#but I managed to finish it before the wrist pain kicked in...so it was a success

[kiose]

Alrighty! Time to help push the Jock Laguna agenda 💪💪💪 Really wanna see Lagoona in her casketball uniform... we only got to see it for like a second in a photo in the background (took screenshots and all) but I wanna see the real deal!! Also! Draculaura gotta cheer on her gf

[touchtheinvisiblestars]

Imagine Spencer looking after you when you get hurt on a stakeout

You'd been paired with a local officer, tasked with a night stakeout at a farm. The pair of you were supposed to watch for any activity, and report back any movement.

Which of course went pear shaped when the young, ambitious man you'd been placed with identified a missing person being led out of the main building. Faster than you could react to stop him, he'd thrown himself out the door, gun raised and ready and attempted to subdue the men.

Instead of impulsively running after him, you chose to stay back and call for help. Simultaneously pressing the distress button on the device Garcia had rather ingeniously insisted you all carry.

It pinged your location to all members of the team, and alerted them that whoever pressed it was in trouble.

Reaching the sheriff's department, you reported the activity and the officers mistake. Watching as they turned on him, you let out a gasp when one of the suspects didn't wait for him to finish the rest of his demands. Instead in the blink of an eye shot him, three times.

"Agent? Agent? Can you hear me, what's going on there?" The Detective who'd answered the phone asked you.

"They just killed him." You breathed, watching as they dragged his body away, the missing boy cowering against the side of the house. Before another one of the suspects grabbed onto him and dragged him away.

"Have they seen you? Are you compromised?"

"Maybe... I don't know. They-" you were cut off by the passenger door opening, revealing one of the men you'd been watching earlier that night.

Before you could reach for your gun, which was stupidly placed on the dashboard, he grabbed you by your hair and dragged you out of the car. Slamming you down onto the ground roughly, even your kevlar vest couldn't stop the air being knocked out of you.

Promptly followed by a hard kick to your stomach, making your chest go into spasm. Gasping in air, you could barely focus on where the next hit was coming from.

***

After what seemed like an eternity he finally let up, shoving you back into the gravel of the driveway and stalking off. Barking orders at the other men who had appeared from the shadows.

"Let's go boys, we need to ship out to location Tango. Got it?.. Let's go then. Her buddies will be here any moment." He called out, sparing a glance back to you.

Feeling entirely too conscious, you dared not move, not fancying another punch to the face.

Multiple cars started up and disappeared over the hills to the back of the property.

You curled onto your side, and tried to breathe in some even breaths. Trying to not focus on the pain all over, you managed to get yourself on all fours. Realising at some point he pulled your bulletproof vest off.

Maneuvering yourself so you were slowly leaning back against the tyre of the truck you were doing the stakeout in. The light from the houses and extra that had been switched on gave you a good look around. And also at yourself. Seeing there were blood splatters on your shirt. You tried not to imagine what you looked like.

Closing your eyes for a moment, taking slow deep breaths in to try and calm your racing heart.

Hearing the sound of gravel under tyres, you instantly panicked. A unexpected wave of adrenaline coarsed through you, giving you the energy needed to get yourself off the floor and in a better position to defend yourself in.

"Y/n?" Hotch's concerned shout fell of deaf ears as you scrambled to get into the car and grab your gun.

"Hey, no, no, no. It's us, calm down." A familiar voice soothed. Intercepting you and stopping your hand before it could pick up your weapon, that you hadn't had the chance to grab.

You hissed and winced as he touched you left wrist, a sickeningly sharp pain shooting up your arm.

"I'm sorry. What hurts?"

"Spence?" Seeing his face relaxed you instantly, "we need to be quick, they literally just left. Over that ridge up there. If we go now we could catch up with them."

Leaning down to get a look at you, some of his wild hair falling out of place as he fussed over you.

"You're not going anywhere, okay? You need to be seen to, what the hell happened? We got the distress ping and ran out the door."

He intercepted your attempt to grab the keys in the ignition. Taking them from you and putting them in his coat pocket.

"That stupid boy got himself killed. He ran over there, gun out, demanding they gave up the boy and that they were under arrest... There were three of them! To one of him, he was never going to subdue all of them."

"You did everything right, okay? He should never have tried to go after them. This group is far too organised for that."

"But I just sat here. I watched it happen, I-"

"Stop. I won't let you do this to yourself. Did you see the person who attacked you?"

"Yeah, he was young. Green eyes, bit of a beard. Around six-five. Probably mid thirties. Um- he was wearing a yellow plaid shirt with a puffer vest jacket. He had.." You trailed off, a piercing headache making you double over.

"That's amazing, y/n. Come on, the ambulance is over here." He said, curling his arm around your waist and helped you out of the car.

Spying Hotch looking over a map, you pulled away from Spencer and limped over to him. Spencer following close behind holding onto your wrist.

You looked at the map to get your bearings, finding the circled area you were in. You pointed at the hills behind the house.

"Y/n, have you seen a medic?" Aaron asked, frowning at you, one of the few facial expressions he had.

"No she hasn-" Spencer started, but you cut him off.

"They went over this ridge," you paused, steadying yourself on the bonnet of the truck, "if we leave now we could catch them."

"Okay, but you aren't going anywhere until you've been checked out. Reid. Make sure she gets medical attention." Hotch spoke to you and then to Spencer who was hovering worriedly.

"Hotch, please. We might not get another chance like this again." You tried, refusing to move from the car.

"Y/n that's not a suggestion. It's an order. Go." Hotch finalised, nodding to Spencer who supported you as he lightly pulled you back.

The medics met you halfway and started asking you an endless list of questions.

A suspected cracked rib and multiple bones in your wrist, concussion, and bruising all over. You were told to visit the hospital once you were back in the city. They strapped you up and gave you some painkillers.

"Where's Hotch?" You asked as Spencer helped you get down from the ambulance, "I've been checked out, I want to help."

"They've headed back to the station. We can't just go roaming across the hills looking for people in the dark. Y/n, it's too dangerous."

"Spencer, come on. We won't get another chance like this."

"We will, okay? I promise you they won't get away. You think any of us will let you go out like this? You need x-rays, anti-inflammatory medication, potentially a CT scan, and most of all rest. Hotch wants you on two weeks leave, after you leave the hospital."

"No," you exclaimed exasperated, "I need you to do a cognitive interview on me."

"Okay. But not now." He spoke softly, brows furrowed as he looked down at you.

"Why not now?"

"Because you've spent the last ten minutes digging your nails into your palm. And you only do that when you're in pain."

You instantly released your clenched fist. Not realising you'd even being doing it.

Releasing a deep breath, you were finally ready to admit defeat. Nodding, you let him lead you back to the car you'd come in.

The drive back was comfortably silent, Spencer looking over to check on you occasionally. You sighed on arriving at the closest hospital.

"I know okay. But do you really want me lecturing you about all the reasons you should follow the medics advice and get to the hospital immediately?"

Shaking your head, you sent a small smile his way.

[allfearstofallto]

saw yr posts abt submissive yanderes, and hear me out, tartaglia. i mean this from the bottom of my heart he is the one that wants you to do things to him, and while that’s not exactly submission i think it’s close enough?

just… in my mind he wants anything you’ll give him, he’ll give his body up to you, even if you punch and kick him, he takes it, sure he’d rather you treat him the way he would (does?) you, but any touch you give makes him feel like a wild animal.

tartaglia, who just needs you. idek i’m losing my train of thought 🙏

I don't think it's exactly what you wanted, but I got carried away and wrote masochist Childe👉🏾👈🏾. I hope that's okay!!! Personally, as a woman who loves femdom, it felt so good to write this though!! It was like I was going back to my roots.

TW: NSF.W Yandere themes, BDSM (bondage, sadism/masochism), violence, nipple play, unprotected sex, finishing inside, dub-con, overstimulation(?), choking

“Hurt me more,” he cooed while looking up at you with big, eyes full of anticipation. Drool leaking from his lips, his cheek was already red and warm from your stinging slap across it, “C’mon, I know you hate me. Now's your chance to treat me like you do.” He'd goad you with that same smug, smirk on his face.

Childe's big strong arms were tied with a rope to the headboard. The material was tight, digging into the flesh of his wrist anytime he'd struggle against them. But despite the aching pain you could imagine he was feeling, he showed a face of hunger, of desire for more.

His cock, large and twitching, was strained against his boxers, begging to be let free from its confines. When you brought another rough slap down across his cheek, you watched it twitch and leak and darken that already deep fabric with his precum, while he trembled with his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

He'd grind his hips up, wanting you to free his aching dick, but you never did. You knew he could cum without it and he did too. Your hand would slide up his chiseled stomach, his body was always slightly colder than what it was supposed to be, and you squeezed one of his pink nipples between your finger tips. As hard as you could. Squeezing and twisting until your hand shook.

Lips clenched together, he muffled his own moans. His cock twitched in his underwear a few more times, the head of it rubbing against the precum he'd already spilled on his boxers .He came like that, the many shots of his semen continuing to soak the cloth until it began to drip down his cock again.

When he stilled from his orgasm, his body still twitching, he smiled at you lovingly. All the disgust you felt towards him still there, you'd turn away without a word.

You never took yourself to be much of a sadist, the idea of it being like a whisper of the night, never being brought to the day, but that was before Childe took you. Locked away in his home, falling victim to his torture that he called love, you felt animosity towards him grow. That animosity would turn into violent fits of rage, ones that he never took seriously. There was no way you could actually hurt a harbinger, especially without a vision, but that didn't stop you from trying. And one fateful day, you actually managed to connect a punch to his jaw.

It was your first time ever punching someone and felt more like you were hitting a brick wall than a person. You shook your sore hand out, immediately regretting what you'd done for the pain it caused you instead. But Childe stood there stiff, a little bruise forming on the side of his face. His eyes had rolled back, body beginning to shutter. His mouth agape, he let out a soft, low moan. You were going to tell him to stop joking around, that he wasn't funny, until he dropped to his knees in front of you, a wet patch forming on the front of his pants. Childe had cum just from your little act of violence.

While he loved the art of fighting. The rush that ending another life gave him, the way his body felt while he was throwing punches, it was an unmatchable adrenaline rush, he never knew he was one for pain. Pain from your hands felt different. It felt pleasurable. A familiar stinging followed by tingles that shot through his body. Only you could do that to him.

“You're incredible, my angel,” he moaned while kissing up your thighs, wanting to do more with this new found knowledge of his.

He had you laid back on the bed, pounding into your tender cunt with little mercy. Each long stroke of his cock made your toes curl from the unwanted pleasure of him hitting your insides. Your legs on his hips, you squeezed the sheets for leverage as you begged for him to stop, or at the very least slow down. He was going to fast, too drunk and clumsy from the satisfaction your dripping pussy was giving him.

Childe’s large hand engulfed your wrist, a feeling you were familiar with. Instead of holding you in place so he could fuck you deeper into the mattress with less struggle from you like you thought he would, he lifted it up and placed your palm to his neck.

“Make me,” he growled, lust clouding his eyes. Uncertainty caused you to tremble for a moment before you realized that this was Childe, nothing you could do could actually hurt him. He was asking for it, even going as far as to lift your legs higher, to thrust into you deeper, to make you try to stop him more.

You squeezed that muscled throat, choking him with the hope that he might actually die, but knowing better. He loved it, his already obnoxious moans were even louder than before. His thrusts felt even more rough, hips slapping against yours as you actually felt yourself growing a little aroused from this and he noticed too. A smirk on his face as he struggled to inhale, but still fucking you at that same brutal pace with those same deep, strokes.

He strained to speak as he tried to tell you he was cumming, his mouth just opening and closing, drooling down his chin. Childe forced his cock balls deep inside of you, going so deep with his length it almost felt uncomfortable. He began to cum, dick twitching like mad against your walls. Soft whimpers and groans would drop from his lips as you didn't let go of him, only squeezing his throat tighter.

His cock didn't get the chance to soften, he stayed hard as he started slow, shallow thrusts into your pussy again. The mixture of the pain of overstimulation and lack of air from your choking has him convulsing, but he didn't pull out, using his own cum as lube.

“Ah…hah…just say you want to milk me dry, my love, I'll keep going,” he managed to grunt through tears, his orange hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.

[surielstea]

Read to me

1k celebration request!

Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is injured and Rhys takes care of her :)

Warnings: mention of injury, all fluff though, Drabble, hurt/comfort

1k words

The door swings open, revealing a sleep-deprived Rhysand and a tray of my favorite food. I smile softly up at him as he kicks the door shut behind him. "Rhys," I say, my grin widening as he attempts to mirror it. But ultimately fails due to the crease between his brows, only resulting in what looked like a pained grimace across his face.

"Hi darling," He replies, his voice tender and honeyed.

"Finally off work?" I ask as he settles the tray beside me.

"Finally off work," He nods with a stifled sigh. Being the High Lord of the court attempting to hold everyone together was a straining job, especially without his High Lady. I offered to do some work, at least remotely but he refused to let me even think about the idea.

"I don't know how you manage without me," I say, my smile faltering as I attempt to sit up. I wince at the sharp pain in my abdomen, my freshly sewn-up torso stretching at the movement.

"Gods, let me help you." He slips his arms under my back and lifts me from the mattress, propping me up on a tower of pillows pressed to the headboard.

"Rhys," I grip his wrist and he winced, feeling my pain second-handedly. I've been too weak since my injury to decipher which parts of his mind I should shut him out of, and he told me he'd rather feel my pain and stay connected to me than be shut out entirely.

"I know," He whispers. "I know it hurts baby," His voice is raw as he speaks, hands soothing over my back as I recline into the pillows.

"Eat something and then you can take more medicine alright?" He brushes a hand through my hair. I nod and he settles the tray over my lap.

I smile down at the meal, tucking my hair behind my ears and away from my face as I begin to eat.

Rhys sits in a chair at my bedside, observing me occasionally, but ultimately choosing not to interact with me in an attempt to preserve my strength.

"How was your day today?" I ask anyway and his brows raise a fraction.

"Don't waste your energy," He says with a shake of his head and I frown.

"Talk to me, I haven't seen you all day, please," I practically whine and his features soften, his violet eyes scanning over my begging features.

"It was, long," He shrugs, leaning back in the chair he's been sitting in for the past three nights. "Like it always is when you're not around," He props his legs up onto our bed and I roll my eyes.

"I told you I'm willing to work—" I try but he cuts me off.

"And I told you not until you're better," His drawl made me glare at him stubbornly. He sighed and reached forward, his fingers intertwining with mine. "It's my fault you're hurt," He muttered like the admission was the greatest fault of his life. "I shouldn't have let you go out there, shouldn't have—" He continued but it was my turn to interrupt him.

"I'm a Valkyrie, Rhys," I look at him with a pointed gaze. "One of your best warriors, it'd be a mistake to not put me out there with the others," I claim and he rubbed at his eyes with his free hand, unable to stomach it. "And I'm fine, a little scratched up but I'll heal," I smile, running my thumb over the back of his palm.

"I love you," He says, his voice soft and tired. I smile cheekily.

"I love you too, Rhysie." I lean in, puckering my lips dramatically. He shakes his head with amusement before meeting my mouth with his and giving me a soft peck, his hand coming to my cheek. "You're too good to me," He murmurs, inclining his position so his forehead rests against mine.

"Nonsense," I whisper, pecking his lips quickly once more, pulling away as quick as I came.

"You finished eating?" He asks and I nod, leaning back into the pillows with a huff as he takes the tray and places it on the bedside table. I shift down beneath the blankets, looking up at his gleaming eyes as he reaches into my mind and soothes whatever pain I might have been enduring from my sudden movement.

I yawn, my body exhausted from rapidly healing itself back together.

"Can you read to me tonight?" I gesture to the bookshelf across the room, lined with books of all different kinds, the variety enough to satiate any need.

"You're tired baby," He shakes his head and I frown, attempting to guilt trip him.

"Please?" I whisper. "Your voice helps me sleep," I explain and I watch as he physically gives in, his shoulders slumping as he stands, approaching the bookshelf.

"Which one for tonight, my love?" He asks, taking in the entire wall of colorful, broken spines.

"The blue one, to your right," I flick my hand, knowing the entire shelf by heart. He smiles and plucks the novel from its place before returning to my side.

"I swear we've read all of these at least twice," He murmurs, opening the book and flicking through its familiar pages.

"We need new ones, my birthday is coming up," I say with a suggestive smile, pumping my brows.

"If you think I'm getting you books for your birthday, you're sorely mistaken," He said and I grumbled a curse, matching it with a frown. "No— I mean, I'll buy them for you anyway." He rushed to say and my lip twitched upward, but I still wasn't fully satisfied.

"How about once you're better we'll go to the book shop and you can pick out as many as you want?" He suggests and I nod with a pleased grin. "Alright, lie down," He waves his hand at me and I do as he says, my blankets up to my chin as I stare up towards him. "You better be asleep by the end of this chapter." He crosses a leg over the other and I nod, knowing well that I have no intentions of sleeping anytime soon. After an eye roll at my devious expression, he begins to read.

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[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Savior

Mizu x Y/N - drabble - 1.1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: prostitution, attempted SA (not too detailed just implied), Mizu being sexy, he/him pronouns for Mizu

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

You had never met someone with eyes like yours. You wore glasses every day, the world appearing dark and dim because of them. You worked for Madame Kaji; being left on a brothel's doorstep as an infant. She saved you from the cold and raised you. She couldn’t stand to watch you be a prostitute, you were practically her own. So she made you useful in other ways. Fetching things for her, cooking, cleaning, always making sure the girls had whatever they needed. You also managed to learn quite a bit of judo. A necessity as you got older, mens wandering eyes and rough hands attempting to take you more often than you would like to admit. Today was no different, you had gathered all the groceries you had been sent to get. You prepared soup for you and Madame Kaji before she had to go and tend to the clients. You only really got to see her in brief moments like these. 

“Good evening mama.” you smiled sweetly at her as you set her bowl in front of her before giving her cheek a delicate kiss. 

She smiled at you before she started eating, “I want you to be careful today.” she said.

“I’m always careful.” you shrugged.

“No, I mean it.” she said as she forcefully set her spoon down. “We have dangerous company.”

You nodded, not wanting to further vex her. You both ate in silence, content with the atmosphere. You both stood, you going to clean.  Madame Kaji’s hand grabbed your wrist before you could make your swift exit. She pulled you back to her before she tucked your hair behind your ears. She slipped your glasses off, you squinted as you adjusted to the light. 

“Rain child,” she said as she kissed your cheek, “how beautiful you are.” 

You smiled and leaned into her touch. Nobody but her and the other prostitutes knew of your eyes. Everyone in the village assumed you were blind, not caring much in general about some whore mongers bastard child. Even Boss Hamata didn’t want you. You preferred it that way; better to be simple and plain than to attract every twisted glance that held nothing but malcontent. She left the small room. As you cleaned you couldn’t help but wonder what company she spoke of. To be fair, most of the usuals were harmless. But there will always be those who enjoy the pain of others. 

You made your way down the hall; watching Ise shrug her Kimono back on as she walked out of one of the many rooms. She gave you a small smile before walking into the parlor to fetch her next client. You shuffled into the room, starting to clean it before one of the girls needed it. Straightening the table, refilling the sake, wiping the sweat and regret off the floor mats. You knew none of the girls liked this work. But you looked at all of them like sisters, you felt their pain and sorrow. You often snuck them sweets Madame Kaji bought for you two to share. Life could always be a little sweeter, even in a small regard. You were almost finished cleaning when you heard what sounded like someone stumbling into the room. You turned and saw a man. Not a regular, tall and stocky. He swayed slightly, alcohol reeking from him. You bowed as you stepped back, putting space between you.

“You’re a… pretty one.” he hiccuped out as he shut the door behind him.

Your heart started racing, nothing good happens behind closed doors here. He stomped over to you harshly dragging you to the ground. He tried to pin you but you kicked him in the shoulder, sending him back. You scrambled up, almost reaching the door when he pulled you by the edge of your kimono. You fell to the ground, stomach against the floor. He held you down with one hand while the other pulled up your skirts. You sobbed and let out one shriek before he shoved your face into the floor, breaking your glasses in half. Your muffled sobs were all that remained. You heard the door fly open and saw a flash of red splatter the walls, a few drops dotting your face. You froze, shock finally settling in as you realize what almost happened to you. Foreign hands rolled you over deftly, you heard their distant voice and saw them through your tunnel vision. 

“Are you ok?” he asked, blue eyes meeting yours. 

He leaned over top of you, arms on either side of your head. You both gawked at each other until you heard running down the hallway. Madame Kaji and a few other prostitutes rushed in. The scowl on your mothers face horrified you. She shoved the blue eyed stranger off you before raising her hand to strike him.

“How dare you touch them!” she shouted. 

You caught her wrist right before she could make impact, “No mama! It wasn’t him.” you rushed out. 

You looked towards the corpse in the opposite corner which was cut in half. You felt the mystery man's hands gently close your kimono which you hadn’t realized fell open. You blushed at his kindness, his respect. Madame Kaji helped you up, a slight shake in your legs from the fear of it all. She walked you to your room but not before you saw which room the blue eyed man entered. As you waited you couldn’t help but think of his eyes, his gentle yet rough hands. Your mind wandered, wanting to know how his lips felt. You shook your head as you made your way to his room, slipping inside silently. 

The samurai’s eyes immediately found yours, yet he remained silent.

“May I sit?” you asked softly.

He nodded. 

“I wanted to thank you…” you said, “I also wanted… to see…” your thoughts tapered out, embarrassed of what you truly wanted to ask. “Your eyes.”

He held a look you couldn’t place an emotion to, “Sit.” is all he said.

You sat closer than he expected, faces inches apart. You knew this position was unbecoming but you didn’t seem to care. You had only ever seen one other person with different eyes, Yuko the prostitute with green eyes and golden hair. But these were blue, just like yours. You admired them looking at the beautiful samurai overall after a while and not just his eyes. 

Your hand came up to gently cradle his face. You moved on instinct, giving him a chaste kiss before leaning back, “Thank you…”

“Mizu.” he answered after a moment, lips buzzing from the brief yet sweet kiss. 

“Thank you Mizu.” you said before bowing and swiftly exiting the room. 

Your heart raced, and little did you know, so did Mizu’s.

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

Naboo's Note:

Hello! My first Blue Eyed Samurai post! YAYYYYYY! It's been a long time coming given my obsession with the show but better late than never! Thank you for all the likes and comments, super motivating! XOXOXOXOXOXOX

[seospicybin]

DON'T THEY KNOW IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD?

PART II

Lee Know x reader. (s,a)

Chapters: Part I

Synopsis: Making a contact with an ancient object, you meet a demon who takes form of the man you desired and forces you to commit terrible acts to stop the world from ending. (13,1k words)

Author's note: I recommend listening to this track while you're reading this fic. Happy Haloween!

Based on an episode of Black Mirror. Content warnings: Violence, gore, mentions of abuse, assaults and graphic imagery. Reader’s discretion is advised!

"I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free." Michelangelo

-

Save one or billions?

Minho's number one rule may be to not leave an eyewitness but your number one rule is to not kill innocent people. Clearly, the man is merely there in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and certainly not expecting to meet a sculptor who turns a murderer at night.

You turn around to run away through the front door but Minho stops you.

"No, no, no," he strongly against your plan to flee.

He fiercely looks at you and says, "No witnesses. You have to kill him!"

You shake your head and refuse to do what he told you. All you want to do is run but Minho holds his ground, not allowing you to leave.

"He's seen you. You have to kill him!" He persists and steers your body to come at the man whose face turns pale once he realizes the horror he's about to face.

The man starts throwing you with anything in his reach, a bag of bread, a pack of sliced cheese, a half-empty bottle of soda, a spoon.

"Go away! Get out of my house!" He says while keeps throwing things at you, sending a bag of chips flying around the kitchen.

"Do it! It's him or you!" Minho urges you.

With one hand steadily covering your face from objects being thrown at you, you rummage inside your bag to take out your hammer to use it once more for the night.

Getting a good grip on it, you aim it at him while he keeps maintaining a safe space from you by swaying a chopping board in front of you.

"Get out, please!" He demands.

He then kicks you quite hard on the leg and with the strength a grown man has, it's enough to send you fall onto the ground. You see the hammer is still in your hand but the bad thing is the man is trying to escape through the kitchen door.

You drag yourself and hurriedly stop him from getting to the door by catching him by the legs, sending him crash down onto the floor.

The fight continues on the floor, the two of you struggling to survive. You try to hit him with the hammer while he gently grips your hand by the wrist to not let you hurt him.

You notice that his other hand is groping the floor, reaching for the bread knife lying inches away from his fingertips.

He only needs to get it and there's a big chance that he can easily stab you with it. You decide to drop the hammer and race him to get the bread knife before him.

You can feel the wooden handle of the knife on your fingers and close to gripping it, he flips you over on the floor to get the knife.

Before he can take it from you, you use all of the strength you have left to flip over, sending him farther from the knife and you can get a hold of it.

Relentlessly, he turns over not knowing that you're holding the knife, and stabs himself right onto it. You can feel the knife piercing through the flesh and right into his chest.

With the knife going all the way in, he still manages to crawl to sit and leans his back against the wall. He's groaning as he looks down at the knife impaled his chest.

You can only watch as he holds the knife and tries to take it out of him, despite you knowing that he shouldn't do it, you do nothing to stop him.

"I'm so sorry," you sob as he finally grabs the handle and slowly pulls the knife out.

Blood is gushing from the wound, soaking his sky blue shirt with crimson red color. Painful groans are escaping his parted mouth followed by a blob of thick, sticky blood.

"I'm so–" your choked sob gets in the way.

"Sorry," you finish with a shaky voice.

You get up from the floor and take two steps back, looking at him helplessly trying to stay alive. The man looks at you and you can see in his eyes that life is slowly leaving him.

The silence that takes over is deafening and the hands on your shoulders are putting some senses back into you.

"Come on. Let's go!" Minho whispers, reminding you that it's time to leave, not wanting to risk another person finding you like this.

Taking one last look at the lifeless body sitting against the wall, you gather your senses and eye the bloodied knife, collecting it along with your hammer as you make your way out of the door like you haven't just killed two men.

-

No matter how long you stand under the shower, the blood is still on your hands.

You sit on the end of the bed in your bathrobe, drops of water dripping from the end of your hair as your head looks down and your hands gripping the edge of the bed frame.

You're in complete shock at what you just did. Killing Tim was the plan, there was no remorse in killing him because you know he deserved it.

But the man, you don't even know his name to begin with, he got killed just because he saw you. You did that.

You look up and Minho is standing right in front of you, "Who was he?"

He sighs before answering your question, "That would be Tim's brother, Kurt."

"What was he like?" You ask, almost inaudible.

He gets quiet and you glare at him to demand an answer, "You know stuff," you say.

You intensely look into the two orbs in his eyes and ask, "Was he a good or bad person?"

He clasped both hands in front of him, "He was... ordinary."

You feel bile rising inside you, feeling sick of yourself for killing an innocent man. You grip the bed frame tighter until your knuckles turn pale.

"I know it's not what you want to hear but..." Minho says, talking in a soft tone and takes a seat next to you on the bed.

"What's done is done and on the plus side, you scored two tonight," he shares, always has a way of looking at the brighter side of evil things you did.

"I think you've done it, look!" He shows you the talisman.

Those two lines should have disappeared since you killed two men tonight which should release you from the binding contract. You feel a little hopeful that maybe you have done it, you have stopped the world from ending.

Minho is just as confused too. He taps the glass as if that would fix it. His face turns sour, realizing that something is wrong.

He holds a finger, at you. "Wait for one– No, two seconds!"

Minho walks over to the landline phone that you only use to call the concierge or to ask for any services available in the building.

He enters 666 on the dialing numbers and presses the phone close to his ear, "It's me, Minho, yep," he speaks to the phone.

"Yeah, uh... I got a talisman circa 1925 but it failed to register one of the sacrifices," He informs while looking closely at the pocket watch.

"Two kills but only one's been recorded," he turns to look at you and flashes you an uneasy smile.

His face tells that he's receiving bad news, "I mean, yeah, but..."

He puts a hand against the wall, needing to hold on to something, "We can't just, ugh... no, I get it, I get it," he says, defeated.

He slams the phone shut and tilts his head up as he lets out a deep sigh. After a while, he turns around to face you and delivers the news, "Tim didn't count."

You feel all hope has exited your body and feel betrayed, "What? Why?"

"He's a murderer. Makes him ineligible. That's what they're saying," he explains with a strained facial expression.

Isn't that the point? You killed him because he was a murderer, he deserved it.

"But we've been picking people who deserve it," you state the only truth you know.

Minho nervously smiles, "Well, you're not supposed to do it that way. It's just..."

He leans against the wall and continues talking, "I thought you'd find it easier that way."

You drop your head and pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to asses everything. You need to process the fact that you need to kill another man.

"I'm sorry," Minho sincerely apologizes.

He then sits next to you, turning his body to face you as he explains, "Look, basically anyone who's already been directly responsible for the death of another human being, they're off limits."

He gets concerned by how you're so quiet and afraid that you would change your mind by the slight changes in the rules of the game.

"As far as my boss is concerned, they're playing for the home team," he reassures you.

Suddenly, you don't see the point of doing it anymore. Kill an innocent has certainly way out of your boundary and you can't find it in you to do another one.

"We're actually lucky, you know. His brother turned up thus made your effort didn't go to waste," he calmly concludes.

Lucky? You wouldn't call killing an innocent man lucky. Tonight, his words don't quite comfort you like they usually do. You feel played and maybe it is his trick just to make you do his evil deeds.

It's like you finally came to your senses, you don't see how it benefits you because it's going to be a win for him either way.

You shot up from the bed and sharply pointed your index finger at him.

"Fuck you!" You curse him.

"Go fuck yourself!" You curse louder.

Minho just sits there and takes it all in like you didn't just spew your thick, hot rage on his face and it pisses you off more.

"This is all right for you, huh?"

He lightly shakes his head, "No, it isn't."

He has it easy because he doesn't need to do the heavy workload, he just needs to be there and keep tabs on you.

"No blood on your hands. You're just watching," you lay out the facts with rage bubbling inside of you.

Minho seems to decide to let you finish talking, knowing that you need to get it all out.

"This is entertainment for you!"

You're the only one doomed in this contract, not to mention, that you accidentally put your blood on the talisman and he forced you to permit entry. It's one sick game that he likes to play.

"If the Apocalypse does come, you'll have one big, fun finale!"

"That would be upending the whole place—"

"Yeah, you failed your initiation and got told off," you easily resolve because you don't see why it's so frowned upon. Shouldn't they be happy that the evil won?

"If I fail my initiation..."

You cut through his sentence again, "Get kicked out of the demon school? How sad!" You mock him with a sinister laugh.

"More like cast out," Minho corrects.

You shrug his words away, "Whatever."

The silence takes over for a moment until Minho speaks and fills the air with his light, whispery voice.

"Cast out into a boundless cosmic void and doomed to spend eternity in a vacuum of infinite nothingness."

You look at him as he stares at the thing he describes in his words flashes right in front of him.

"Absence of matter, time, space, light, and sound. I would endure a profound, palpable, and ever-present lack of existence..."

Hearing that makes you feel cold inside and the way he speaks as if he's been feeling that emptiness already makes you empathize with him.

"Alone in perpetuity, forever more," he finishes with a blank stare at you.

It's something that you can easily relate to. Your whole life you've been alone, living in your head because no one cares for you except for the art you made. You can see why Minho spoke with so much sorrow in his voice.

All these times, his fear has been hiding behind his indifference.

You swallow air, then say, "That sounds like my life..."

He watches as you approach him and sit next to him. He closes his eyes as if what he's about to say next is too painful.

"To be honest, I'm scared," he honestly says.

You take his hand and let him rest his head on your chest, you caressingly cradle his head, protecting him any way you can.

Minho turns his head and looks at you, letting you see everything in his eyes. In that moment, you can see that he's afraid, lost, and lonely, feelings that are way too familiar to you and you find comfort in knowing that you find yourself in him.

You slowly lean in and kiss him, letting him know that he's not the only one living such a life.

Something flickers inside you the second your lips meet his in a kiss that feels like a long time coming, it's ever-consuming, taking over.

Minho returns the kiss passionately, allowing you to let go of the worries that chained you and hold you down.

For tonight, you let yourself free.

-

FOUR DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD

The sliver of sunlight shines through the cracks of the blinds and hits you right in the eyes, waking you from your deep slumber.

You're lying on your side and feel another body next to you, taking a moment before turning your head in the other direction and seeing Minho there.

Sharing the bed with him feels natural. It's as if you've been sleeping with him for years that he belongs there, lying right next to you.

He reaches for the strand of hair falling over your face and endearingly tucks it behind your ear, then places his hand there, holding the side of your face.

"Morning," he softly says.

For a split second, it feels possible to connect to another human being without feeling afraid that you'll be misjudged. He knows you, he knows the darkest thing you ever done that you don't feel the need to hide yourself anymore.

Then the truth hits.

This is not what normal people have. Normal people don't kill, they're following the rules and stay on the safe side.

You inhale air and close your eyes for a second, "So, one more victim then?"

He drags his hand down to your neck. His thumb tenderly rubs your jaw, "Yeah, the only thing for it," he answers.

There's only one thing crossed your head at that moment, "I can't kill another total innocent," you remark.

Minho takes a breath and slides his hand down to your shoulder, "It's just murderers we have to avoid," he reminds you.

"You mean people like me," you sadly say.

You roll over and lay on your back, staring at the ceiling as the truth once again sinks in: You're a murderer.

"My whole life... I never wished harm on anyone," you sigh with so much remorse and guilt.

When you think Minho would do the look-at-the-brighter-side-of-evil-things, he scoffs at your words. You look at him and he is chuckling at you.

You sit on the bed and turn at him, "I-I didn’t," you persist.

Minho also gets up and puts his hands around his knees, smirking.

"Uh..." he scratches the back of his head.

"You couldn't have summoned me for my trial if you hadn't," he says with the smirk still plastered on his face.

You look away and think it over. Were you thinking of hurting someone that night?

"Well, you had to be corruptible not beyond corruption," he further explains.

He then reaches for your hand and holds it, "You know what? You must have had some dark force inside you when you touched the talisman," he says.

That gets you shooting a death glare at him, feeling offended that he takes you as that kind of person.

"There's no shame in it," he assures you with a squeeze on your hand.

That night, you were indeed feeling so much anger and you remember channeling all of that anger on your work. You know exactly what and who happened.

"No, go on," Minho encourages.

He then leans in, not stopping until his head meets yours. With gleaming eyes and whispery voice, he asks, "Who pissed you off?"

-

"There she is!" Kim exclaims.

"Don't you just stand there!" She gets up from her chair and welcomes you with a hug.

It was supposed to be a celebration dinner that she promised, but you see that she invited the director of the gallery with her.

She hugs you and keeps her hand on your shoulder as she pulls away, "You look..." she pauses as she takes a look up and down at you.

Since she said it would be just her and you, you casually dressed in jeans and a blouse.

Kim leans in and quietly asks, "Did you wash your hair?"

She then peers over at Jeff, the gallery director then looks back at you, "Let's sit!"

The waiter pulls a chair for you and prepares another set of cutlery for you on the table.

"She's nice," Minho appears behind you.

He walks over to Kim's chair and looks down at her, "She's a front runner for the..." he mimics throat slitting with his hand on his neck.

He stands behind her chair and continues talking, "Do you know that she takes a bigger cut on your art sales than the one written on the contract?"

You ignore him by taking the napkin and putting it on your lap, at the same time, Jeff talks to you.

"Kim said you're already working on new sculptures?" He asks.

You nod and take a sip of water before answering. Well, you're busy stopping the apocalypse from coming.

"Yeah, I am," you shortly answer.

"Oh, she loves working. There's no way of stopping her from doing what she loves," Kim says with an extra wide smile and false compliments.

Jeff asks the waiter to refill everyone's glass with more wine even though he can do it himself with the bottle sitting not so far from his grasp.

Minho props a hand against Jeff's chair and points at both Kim and him, "These two just fucked earlier in his office," he shares.

That's not the information you needed to know. You kind of guessed why they're so overly friendly with each other, you just didn't expect that Kim would screw a married man.

You quietly sigh while watching the waiter carefully pour wine into your glass without spilling a drop.

"Thank you," you mutter in gratitude.

"Should we start by making a toast?" Jeff suggests.

Kim enthusiastically agrees to his idea, being the first person to lift her wine glass and you have to follow suit, taking your glass in your hand for the toast.

"To our talented artist," Jeff says as he glances at you, then looks the other way, "And to the hardworking art dealer!"

In which Kim smiles and blushes at his words. The second after everyone clinked the wine glasses together, you take a long gulp of your wine in the hope of washing down the sour taste in your mouth.

Once the food is served on the table, you keep yourself busy by stuffing your mouth with food, not wanting to engage in a conversation with them.

You don't mind that you're now only there as a cover for their affair yet you were wrong to think that's the worst thing that happens tonight.

A waiter comes to your table and pulls the chair next to you for someone else. You turn your head to see who else Kim invited to the dinner.

"I apologize for being late," Nick says, taking off his coat with help from the waiter.

"Oh, please! We're more than pleased to know you're still willing to come and have dinner with us," Kim says with yet another fake, bright smile.

If this is her idea of torturing you, she won big. There's nothing that agonizes you more than sitting with these people at the same table.

"You come just right on time, no worries," Jeff says, also pleased by his presence.

Nick sits on the chair next to yours and looks at you when he says, "Yeah, I came just in time for desserts."

You sip your wine to avoid talking to him but that doesn't stop him from talking to you.

"How are you?"

"Good," you shortly answer.

He nods even though looks dissatisfied by your short answer. He takes a sip of his wine as Jeff starts talking to him.

"Thank you for letting us keep the sculptures until exhibitions end," Jeff says.

He waves him off and puts down his wine glass, "No problem at all."

Kim leans on the table at you, "He's the one who bought all of your sculptures," she informs.

"Really?" You innocently ask.

Kim laughs in response but you sense the scornful in that laugh, "She's still in awe," she puts it politely for everyone to

As an artist, you would love for someone appreciative of your art as the one who bought it, not someone who solely has the power to buy it. You know which one is Nick, worse is, he bought them just to impress you.

"Must be busy campaigning, huh?" Jeff says as he digs into his dessert.

Nick lets out a low chuckle yet not denying it. You've been busy stopping the end of the world from coming and not been keeping up with the news.

"Campaigning for what?" You innocently ask again.

Kim leers at you and places a hand on yours, "Nick is running for congress, honey," she says with a strained smile.

"Ah," you swallow a piece of cake down and your throat feels like closing up.

"Young and smart, oh... anyone would be lucky to be with you, Nick," Kim praises with her eyes oozing with admiration.

She looks at you to seek your agreement, "Amazing, isn't he?"

You don't see what is amazing about that when he uses his family's wealth to back his political campaign but surely, you can't be honest about it.

"Yeah," you half-heartedly answer.

Nick seems to be delighted that you show a tad interest in him a smile rises on his face.

The waiter has taken all the plates away and everyone is draining the wine bottle with more conversation that you're not part of and you don't want to be a part of it anyway.

"Nick's brother and I went to the same private school," Jeff boasts of his connection with Nick's family.

"Oh, really?" Kim asks with her saccharine smile.

"We still play golf together now and then, right Nick?"

"Yes," Nick confirms.

"Fuck me," Minho comments as he sits on the table behind Nick.

Nick thinks that you're looking at him and asks, "I've been meaning to ask you," he says.

You gently put your coffee cup down on the saucer, "yes?"

"Our family has this villa, we're renovating it now and I'm wondering if I can personally request you to make a sculpture or two..."

It's a mystery how you manage to have not puked at this point. These subtle bragging and power moves, they're suffocating you.

"I'm not sure," you vaguely answer.

"She's busy working on her new series," Kim answers for you and you feel thankful that you don't have to reject him.

"But maybe if she manages to finish it sooner, she'll reconsider the offer," she adds, shattering the kind thought you have for her just now.

Jeff pats Nick on the shoulder and says, "I can't wait to hear your big speech at the city hall!"

"Oh, please!" Nick politely smiles and leans back in his seat, "Jeff has been kind enough to lend me his villa as our temporary office."

Jeff laughs while squeezing his shoulder, not sure who they're trying to impress beside Kim.

"Oh, fuck me some more!" Minho groans with a dramatic eye roll.

Even when it's time to leave, Nick and Jeff get into a little argument about who should be paying for dinner tonight and the fight has to happen in front of you and Kim.

You're itching to pull out your credit card just to get it over with but you don't want to make a dent on two grown men's egos.

"Thank you for dinner," Kim says to Nick as the winner of the argument.

You meekly follow suit, "Thank you!"

"It's my pleasure," he says with a smile that showcases his perfect white teeth.

Even Minho has disappeared from the scene, probably fed up with everything.

"Can I give you ladies a ride home?" Nick offers as he fixes the collar of his coat.

"I would love to!" Kim eagerly answers, "But since our homes are on the same way, I'm getting a ride home from Jeff."

She holds her purse by the other hand and pulls you close to her side, "but she'll take the lift home, right babe?"

When Kim says, it has to happen or else it's going to end badly.

-

Despite that he can afford a chauffeur, Nick drives his own car.

You've been meaning to ask if he knows where you live because you don't enjoy spending more time with him but how to do that without initiating a talk with him.

"You live in the Crystal Palace, right?" Nick asks.

Should you be grateful that he knows where you live or spooked? But one thing you know for sure is that Kim tells him about it.

"Yes," you answer.

"Isn't the owner just passed away a few days ago?"

"Yes."

"My grandfather knew him when he was still working as the company's mailman," he says.

That's news to you because what did a mailman do that led him to own one of the most luxurious apartment buildings in the city?

"Oh, I never knew that," you weakly say.

"I know, right? One day he just... turned wealthy," he says, gobsmacked by the simplest of mysteries.

He puts one hand down and places it on the space between you and him, "Guess, we'll never know," he says.

He stops the car right near the entrance of the apartment building and you quickly gather your bag, don't want to waste time to exit his car.

"Thank you for the lift home," you tell him, your hand pushing open the handle of the car door.

Nick grabs your elbow and stops you from stepping out, he catches you off guard to place a kiss on your cheek.

"I had a great night," he says, then lets you go.

You don't wait for another second to get out of his car and wipe his kiss off your cheek until your cheek is raw by the excessive rubbing you do on the elevator ride up to your floor.

"So, have you decided yet?" Minho reappears in your apartment.

You toss your bag and take off your coat, "What?"

"Are you going to kill Kim or do you have your eyes on someone else?"

Going to your bedroom, you open your laptop and type a name on the search engine. The results come in under a second and you scan every article there is about this person.

"Oh?" Minho lowly gasps from behind you.

You lean back on your chair and stare at Nick's photo on the laptop screen, "What's his future?"

Not getting an answer from Minho, you swivel your chair to face him, "Can you show me his future"

He seems to hesitate when he has no problem showing you everyone else's. After a moment of consideration, he finally answers, "Yeah, but let's not."

You lean forward on the chair and press him, "Show me right now!" You demand.

He takes a step back and puts a space in between, refusing to do what you ask.

You get up from your chair and stand in front of him, "Show me or I'll confess to everyone and then it's over," you threaten him.

Not letting him get away, you place a hand on his shoulder before continuing your words, "And then you're fucked," you enunciated the doom lingers on those words.

Minho clicks his tongue to try to diminish the threat in your words but it falls short on itself. He knows that he has to cooperate with you for this to work.

"Show me!" You pressure him with a squeeze on his shoulder.

He takes your hand away and now putting his hands on your shoulders, steers you back to your chair, then sits you down.

"Alright, I'll show you," he says, turning the chair the other way. He covers your eyes with his hand to show you what you want.

It's like a movie playing in the back of your head and each scene is taken from war, apocalyptic movies. Getting a seat at the congress is just the beginning, from there Nick will climb the power ladder and become the worst of evil.

Minho snaps you out of it and you gasp as if you've been pulled out of water.

"He's a fucking satan!" You say out of spite and that is the first thing that crosses your head.

"No, he's not one of us, not literally," Minho denies.

You turn your chair to see as he sees him sitting at the end of the bed, "They do like him, they're fans of his work, you might say."

When you thought Nick couldn't be more vile, the future Nick is far worse than you imagined. From what you saw through Minho's vision, you're assured of your decision.

"He's got to go. He's next," you remark.

You see Minho's face turns dim as if someone flipped the switch off, "Uh-oh, they're not going to like that."

Not accepting that Minho refuses to get behind your decision, you come up with your own defenses. You walk up to him and stand firm on your ground, "The only rule is to avoid murderers. You said that!"

He licks his lips which are as red as his hair and lets out an exasperated sigh, "Right. But he's responsible for an impressive number of juicy deaths—"

You cut him off with the current fact, "Not yet he isn't."

"But he–he... he likes to assault women," he argues.

You tip your head and come up with a reply, "But hasn't killed one, though, has he?"

"I mean, he killed a dog with a rock when he was 11," he shares information that he doesn't really favor him.

"Animals don't count!" You remind him of that, "That was one of the first things you said."

Minho seems to be struggling to come up with another excuse. It's the right opportunity for you to push him to the edge and give in.

"Is he qualified or not?" You corner him with the important question there is.

"Technically, yeah. But..." He meekly answers with a defeated sigh.

"He's the one. That's that," you end the conversation there.

With or without Minho's approval, you're going to kill Nicholas de Ville and stop the end of the world.

-

THREE DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD

"Miss Kim is in a meeting with Director Lane," The assistant says as you're about to push into Kim's office.

You turn around with your hand still lingers on the handle of the door.

"I know," you calmly reply.

"You don't mind if I wait in her office, right?" You ask the assistant.

Knowing Kim's traits, you're not surprised that she changes her assistant every few months. Must be hard to find someone who can handle her.

She seems to hesitate to let you in. You let go of the door and hold your bag in front of you. The occasion calls to use your power.

"You know who I am, right?"

"Y-yes," she stammers.

You walk up to her table and look her right in the eyes, "Are you?"

She nervously swallows air and gets up from her chair, "I don't think Miss Kim would mind letting you wait in her office," she says.

You maintain the gaze with her then smile, "Right."

Before you push inside, you stand in the doorway and request, "And can I have a cup of coffee?"

"Sure," the assistant replies.

"With cream, no sugar," you add.

"Yes," she answers.

"Why are you still standing there?" You ask with a subtle glare.

She fumbles to get out of her desk, "Right away, Miss!"

The coffee is just an excuse to send her assistant away so you can get on Kim's desk and search for something on her computer.

To cut time, you use the search box and type in what you're looking for. It takes a few seconds until the desired result appears on the screen, and you take a picture of it with your phone.

"Playing spies, aren't we?" Minho asks as he plays with a figurine on Kim's desk.

Hearing footsteps outside, you hurriedly sit on the sofa and pretend to play with your phone.

"Your coffee, Miss!" The assistant says, serving the steaming hot coffee on the glass table.

She holds the tray close to her chest and informs, "Miss Kim is on her way back and will be here in a few minutes."

"Thank you," you mutter.

Right after the assistant left, Kim came into the office, looking like she just ran a whole yard in her exquisite, pencil skirt.

"Oh, you're here!" Kim exclaims as she steadies herself with her hand on the handle of the door.

"That's what you called sex hair!" Minho shares as he sits next to you.

It takes no genius to know that the so-called meeting means so much more than that. The tousled hair, the untucked shirt, and the folded collar of her blazer are enough to explain what happened in the meeting. You lift your coffee cup and blow on it before taking a small, careful sip.

"What's up? How's it going?" She nervously asks, putting her notebook and phone on her desk as she quietly fixes her hair.

You swallow your coffee first before answering, "I came here to return the paperwork," you answer.

You take them out of your bag and place them on the table, "And also to taste the coffee your new assistant made," you add with a smile.

You seem so calm and collected that Kim takes it as unusual. She stops fixing her appearance and leans against her desk, her eyes are scanning you.

"Are you okay, babe?"

You smile at her and coyly answer, "Never been better!"

Your words only worry her instead of the opposite, she's nodding yet her eyes remain suspicious.

"I have to go back and work on my sculpture," you get up from your sofa and take your bag with you.

You walk up to her and look at her, looking at her face that would usually make you feel the slightest bit of distress. However, as you keep looking at her, you realize that there's no need for you to fear her. With or without her, you'll manage to live because she needs you more than you need her.

Kim senses that you're analyzing her in your head and you see that her cool exterior starts to crumble.

"Is something wrong?" She stammers

You smile at her and sling the strap of your bag on your shoulder, "I'm sorry for interrupting your meeting."

She rubs her neck and chuckles, "The meeting was close to finish anyway," she says.

"Jeff must be satisfied, huh?"

She rapidly blinks her eyes, "Pardon?"

"Satisfied with your amazing work," you put a context to your words.

She dryly chuckles and flips her hair to the back, "Yeah, I guess?"

"I'll let you get back to work," you say and make your way to the door.

You stop by the doorway and look at her, you point at her lips to tell her, "You might want to fix your smudged lipstick."

Kim's hand flies to her lips, cluelessly wiping the excess lipstick on her lips. You leave the room with a triumphant smile.

"You make good coffee but I suggest you work for someone else," you tell Kim's assistant on your way out.

-

After spending most of the day to prepare the technicalities.

You come back to your apartment to create the perfect plan for tomorrow. You lay out the city map in the living room.

With the address of Jeff's villa you stole from Kim's computer, you can look for the right place to execute your plan.

"After Nick finishes his speech at the city hall, he's got to head for Jeff's villa which is here," you mark the place with a marker.

You look at the distance between city hall and Jeff's villa, guessing which way Nick will likely take with his car.

"So... whichever way he goes, he's heading out of the city," you mutter.

A country road means it's less crowded therefore, it's an advantage for you.

"I'm thinking... I wait outside the city hall, then I follow him from there," you look at Minho.

You expect an opinion or two since you should be working together on this but he's too busy worrying about other things, worrying Nick is more like it.

Instead of solving it for you, he asks you another question, "What if he's not alone?"

You stack your hands on the table and look at him, "Is he going to be alone? You tell me," you ask him back.

He acts like he doesn't have the power to know everything, "Well, yeah but..."

You point at the map with the marker, "All I have to do is follow him and intercept him somewhere along—"

"Didn’t you hear me?" Minho suddenly stops you midsentence.

He waits until you look at him before continuing to talk, "They're not going to like it," he says for the umpteenth time.

You have enough of him reminding you of it but you have decided therefore, you will not back out of your decision just because he told you so.

"It's within the rules so they can suck it," you dare him.

Minho runs out of things to defend himself and this will be the last time you let him try to change your mind.

"It's him or no one," you sternly tell him.

With two days left and a plan you created, you don't see why you should back down now. Nick is the perfect target, he needs to be killed.

You sit face him on the floor and urge him to pick a side with the most important question of all, "Do you want to fail your initiation or not?"

Minho knows that he doesn't have much of options, he either helps you with your plan or lets it blow and obliterate everything.

From his silence, you know what the answer is.

-

TWO DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD

It feels right to kill him.

At this point, you can't tell what's right and wrong anymore. But killing Nick feels like the right decision, you'll not only save the world from ending, but you also save the world from a doomed future.

You've been waiting outside the city hall in the used car you bought yesterday and have your eyes on Nick's car that is parked not far from yours.

Your hands are steadily holding the steering wheel, knowing that Nick is going to come out of the city hall soon.

When he does, you grip the steering wheel and your hand is ready to turn the key in the ignition.

You watch as Nick talks to someone else before getting into his car. You turn your car engine a minute after him and drive, trailing not far behind him.

You look to the side, at Minho who has been so quiet sitting on the passenger's side, and give him the one last chance to say something.

"You've changed," he says and you're not sure if he is disappointed or impressed.

Minho is simply running out of things to say to change your mind. What he can do now is go along with the plan.

You wait until you're entering the quieter country road to pick up the speed, getting closer to Nick's car.

You step on the gas and align your car with his, before hitting the back of his car, almost sending his car out of the road.

Aware of what you're trying to do, Nick drives faster and you catch up to him by not letting go of the gas, pushing the car to its limit.

To get momentum, you slow down your car to give you space to hit his car harder. You brace yourself for impact and crash your car with him.

There's a loud banging sound and you hurriedly step on the brake, not risking your life until you know for sure that he's dead.

Your car swerves before the brake stopping the car from hitting the tree even though you ended up hitting your head on the steering wheel.

You look through your rearview mirror, Nick's car is turning over on the side of the road.

"Let's just go!" Minho says.

You shake your head, "I need to make sure that he's dead."

Ignoring Minho who keeps telling you to flee the scene, you get out of your car and check Nick's car. The car is upside down, you have to kneel to see if he's still showing signs of life.

There's only one way to make sure of that. You walk to your car and open the trunk, you retrieve the gallon of kerosene you bought.

"What are you doing?" Minho asks in a panicked voice.

"I'm making sure that he's dead," you answer.

You pour it all over Nick's car and stand a few meters away as you look for the lighter in your jacket pocket. The bursting flame swaying away with your shaky breath you let out through your parted mouth.

"And he doesn't deserve an easy death," you add.

You toss the lighter and the inflammable catches it fast, setting the car on blazing fire. Your eyes are filled with glowing embers, reflecting the hatred you have for him.

-

The last thing to do is to get rid of the car.

You drive it to the nearest junkyard and have it crushed with the machine by paying the worker there. You fetch a bus from there and throw all of the clothes you're wearing into the bin a block away from your apartment building.

Nothing feels as good as knowing that you've done the worst of things for the greater good of humankind.

You come home to see Minho is already inside, leaning against the back of the sofa with his arms crossed.

"You did it!" He says with disappointment tainted his triumphant smile.

With the adrenaline still pumping, you come up to him and not stopping until your body crashes into him. That's enough of arguing, talking, scheming, plotting, and not enough physical contact.

After everything you've done, you learn that fear is nothing to you but something that's been holding you back. You don't want to let fear dominate you anymore, you want to take back your life into your own hands.

Without hesitating, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him close, close enough that you can land your lips on his.

Something explodes inside of you the second both of your lips collide in a rapturous kiss.

The two of you stayed like that, encased in a moment that slowly set the fuse on your desire.

You gasp as you pull away from the kiss and you look at him, finding comfort in what once was a scary pair of eyes. He looks back at you with his arms locked around you.

Gosh! He's so beautiful, even more beautiful than the one you created in your head. Using your hand, you tenderly touch his face, you run your finger down his sharp nose and remember sculpting it.

And these lips, oh... you remember how hard and cold it felt under your touch but now, it feels warm and soft, like a flower under the sun.

"Just let me—" You let your desire finish your words.

You lean in and kiss him again, tasting his lips that get even sweeter with each kiss and with each kiss, your hand gets curious.

You let them explore his clothed body but that's not enough.

Minho gently pushes you away, breaking the kiss and putting a space between your bodies. For a second you thought he refused to do this and instead of that, he takes all of his clothes off right in front of you, exposing his body that is you eager to explore. It takes you a moment to take everything in.

Minho has to take your hand and put it on his body, letting you know that it's okay to touch him.

"You're beautiful," you breathlessly say, overwhelmed by what you're seeing.

You whimper at how perfect he is, smooth and warm. His muscles are firm yet you touch him with so much tenderness, afraid that you would break him.

"You're ethereal..." you dreamily sigh.

Minho puts his hand around your neck and tilts your head to kiss you. As he puts you in a spell with his kiss, his hands are swiftly removing your clothes and let them fall onto the floor.

Slowly, he draws your body close until your body meets his, skin-to-skin with nothing in between.

-

It's unclear what has gotten into you but you like it.

You like how confident you are, how carefree yet in control you are. Other than that, you like how Minho looks at you as you sit, straddling him on the bed.

Aligning his cock with your entrance, you slowly lower yourself down his length while letting a long, breathless moan out of your parted open mouth.

You mewl feeling his cock filling you to the hilt, keep mewling as you're adjusting yourself to his size.

Minho places his hand on your chest, right on your beating heart then slowly drags it down, then to the side to hold you by the waist.

Then out of the blue, he chuckles at you.

You open your eyes and place a hand on his chest, "What?" You ask as you look down at him.

He places his other hand on your waist, "I haven't permitted your entry yet," he says.

You break into laughter and lean in, stopping him from laughing with a kiss.

"Say yes, say yes, say yes," you say with each you plant on his face.

Minho is smirking under you, not answering your question just to annoy you.

You catch his lips in yours and bite on his lower lip before you let it go, "You're not going to say yes?"

Still not getting an answer, you place both hands on his chest and slowly, roll your hips in circular motions. You're lowly moaning feeling his whole length inside you.

You look down at Minho and he has his eyes closed, his eyelashes fanning out so beautifully along his eyelids, and his mouth is slightly parted open, you hear him lowly whimpering as you keep rolling your hips with his cock inside you.

Now moving your hips back and forth, Minho is grunting, digging his fingers into the flesh of your thighs. You keep your hips moving and keeping a steady pace.

Driven by the desire, your body is taking over and picking up the pace. You plant your foot on the bed, launching him deeper inside you and earning a groan from him.

Minho grabs you by the waist, trying to slow you down but you don't seem to be the one in control of it, you keep chasing for that high.

You throw your head to the back while keep taking his cock, in and out of you at a quick pace, getting you closer and closer...

"Oh..." you let out a broken moan.

You keep moving despite the immense pleasure that clouds your mind and dulls your senses. Your hands are grasping at nothing but clawing at his warm, smooth skin.

Minho catches you as you collapse into his arms, putting his arms around you with your head resting on his chest. He put all of your hair to the side, allowing him to place a kiss on your neck.

"Yes," he whispers into your ear.

You weakly chuckle at his late response. You look at him and say, "Too late."

Yet he tightens his hold around you and begins to buck his hips from under you, making you moan with your head buried in his neck.

Minho presses his mouth close to your ear and whispers, "I said yes nonetheless."

-

ONE DAY TO THE END OF THE WORLD

Today is going to be a good day.

You can just tell from the moment you open your eyes. You have to squint for a moment to adjust to the light and see the bright, beautiful day through the window.

You stay lying on the bed while looking at the morning sky and as you gather your senses, the recollections of last night come into your mind. What you touched, you tasted, you kissed... and without you intending to, your hand is wandering to places where he laid his hand on you.

It reminds you of the company you're with and you turn on the bed to see nothing but a crumpled sheet next to you.

You clutch the duvet close to your chest to shield your naked body from the cool, morning air.

"Minho?"

There's no answer but your call that is echoing in your empty apartment. Wrapping yourself with it, you get up from the bed to look for him.

"Minho?"

Still no answer and the first thought that runs through your head is that he's gone. The contract is finished, therefore, there's no need for him to stay.

Tears pool in your eyes as you keep looking for him from room to room, dragging your duvet across the floor wherever you go. You're getting hopeless the more you search and not finding him there.

Fear is spreading inside you, telling you to give up and stop hoping. You return to the living room and finally find him there, standing in the middle of the room.

You rush to come up to him and break into tears as you bury your head in his chest, "Where have you been? I've been looking for you!"

Minho holds you, putting his arms around you, and tangles his hand in your hair. He places a soft kiss on the top of your head.

"I have to make sure of it," he says.

With teary eyes, you look up at him, "Make sure of what?"

He takes something from the inside pocket of his black coat, it's the pocket watch and he opens it to show that the line hasn't gone yet.

Another kind of fear spreads all over your body and you feel cold all of a sudden. You slowly let go of him and take the pocket watch from him, looking at it in disbelief.

"But I–I killed him..." your voice breaks at the end of the sentence.

Minho turns his head to the side and magically turns on the TV. It's a broadcast of the morning news with the anchor in the middle of reading breaking news.

"...running for congress, Nicholas de Ville of the de Ville family got into a fatal accident on his way to a private residence where his campaign base is located. The car was on fire when the emergency service came and luckily managed to pull him out a moment before it exploded. Nicholas de Ville is now getting intensive medical care at the Unity Hospital. It is announced that he suffers from third-degree burn and a broken—"

You stop listening to the news and look at Minho, "Why—"

A moment ago, everything was so perfect, so right, and now... you're at a loss for words. You should have checked thoroughly, you should have stayed there and made sure he was dead.

"I have to finish it," you remark with your eyes still prickled with both tears and fear.

Minho sighs and puts his hands on your shoulders, "Just let it go," he says.

You take a step back, sending his hands to slide off of you and drop to his sides.

"Nick has to die," you persist.

Before Minho can try to change your mind again. You go back to your room and toss the duvet, you get dressed as quickly as you can.

Minho is trailing behind you as you make your way out of your apartment "We gave today to find someone else—"

You shut the door closed to stop him from talking. You should have taken him out with your own hands and that's what you're going to do today.

This time, you're going to do it right.

-

The studio looks like an abandoned place when you haven't visited it for a few days.

You came here to retrieve something. You make your way to carving tools and you remember throwing away the one you used to kill Tim into the river, along with the bread knife.

You have a selection of hammers but the sight of the sharp end of the chisel catches the light and reflects it to your eyes.

Your hand is reaching for it but before you get a hold of it, the doorbell rings.

No one visited your studio except for Kim but she wouldn't come this early, not on a Friday morning. You check through the window and see a man standing outside your gate.

"He's a police," Minho informs.

The police may catch up to something at this point but to your surprise, you don't feel scared at all. Maybe the scariest thing for you at the moment is letting Nick live and giving him the chance to rule the world to only stir it into its doom.

It's either now or later. You calm yourself down and put on your game face before opening the gate.

"I'm Detective Leon from the police department," he says, showing you his badge, "I'm just making some routine inquiries."

You keep the door open just enough to show yourself that you're unarmed.

"Do you mind if I have a word?" He asks.

"Yeah," you answer.

Then you realize that you're saying the wrong thing, "I mean, no, I don't mind," you correct yourself and put on a courteous smile.

He nods and asks, "Inside?"

You don't want to let him inside, not when he can see that you have all your carving tools on display.

"Invite him and kill him," Minho comments from the back of the door.

Not letting him in would only add suspicion, you open the door wider to let him in, "Yeah. Please, come in!"

With his salt-and-pepper hair and beer belly, Detective Leon looks too old to be a police detective, he should be retired already.

He walks around your studio and now is observing your far-from-finished sculpture.

"Would you like something to drink?" You offer as you make your way to the kitchen.

He is now standing close to the table full of your carving tools, "Oh, no. I won't keep you," he kindly refuses.

"Like I said, it's just a routine," he adds with an unsettling smile.

"Okay."

Yet you proceed to try to make a cup of tea as to seem you're going on about your day like normal people.

"Were you at the bar on the Monday night?" He asks.

You open your drawer and see the knife blinking at you, tempting you to pick it up.

"It'll be an easy kill. He was gonna have a heart attack next year anyway," Minho encourages you to take the chance.

You almost forget the question and retract yourself back, "Yes, I was," you honestly answer.

"Regular, are you?" He asks.

You put your hand inside the drawer and take a spoon instead, turning to face him so as to not be seen as rude.

"Nah. I wouldn't say that," you reply.

"How often are you in there?"

You lean against the kitchen counter with your hand ready at the handle of the drawer

"It's not like he has any family. No one is going to miss him," Minho whispers from behind you.

You close your eyes to remain composed, "To be honest, that night was the first time."

"First time?" He asks in disbelief.

He stands next to a block of stone and lowly chuckles, "Isn't it just around the corner?"

You don't see why it's something unbelievable? It may sound suspicious but you tell him the truth.

"Well, I don't drink. Not usually," you tell him and that is also the truth.

"But you did that night," he points out and the one corner of his mouth curls into a subtle smirk.

You quietly exhale air to maintain your composure, "I was busy working on my sculpture and I'm not meant to drink. I was... having a creative block, you might say," you're eyeing the unfinished sculpture standing close to him.

Detective Leons also looks at it, touching the rough edges of it.

"I don't have alcohol in the studio or anything, but... I needed it that night," you lie. You needed the courage that night and that's why you drank.

Detective Leon walks and stands in the middle of the room "Well, we all need to let off steam every now and then," he says.

He shows sympathy just so he can earn your trust, to allow him to dig deeper until something slips out of your mouth. You catch his eyes and hold his gaze for a moment, not long enough to see the anxiety stirring inside you.

"Thank you," you mutter.

You dare to look at him and casually ask, "What's this about anyway?"

It's been a while yet you only asked about his intention to come here just now.

"Well, you've probably heard about Tim and Kurt Shaw," he answers.

Now that you know which murder he linked you to, you get more cautious with everything you say to him.

"Who?" You play innocent.

He walks up to you and leans against the end of the kitchen counter, "Tim and Kurt Shaw."

It's no use to play dumb, detective Leon probably knows by now that you went to the same school with Tim.

"I know Tim Shaw but Kurt... I don't know him," you lie.

You're well aware he's analyzing every gesture and word you said and he gets quiet after getting an answer from you. After a moment, he talks again, "Tim Shaw was there at the bar that night, did you see him?"

"Yes," you shortly answer, stalling would only make you seem suspicious.

"I wasn't sure it was him at first and when I did, I came to greet him, you know as a friend from art school," you further explain with a thin smile at the end.

"Did you see him after that?" He asks, getting more specific with his questions as if he has decided that you're the one he's looking for.

"No," you coyly answer, "I went back here and continued working on my sculpture.

He gets closer to you yet maintains a respectful space in between, "So you didn't see him after?"

"No," you tell him without showing flinching and blinking your eyes.

This time, he looks right into your eyes and you can't avoid it, or else he knows you're hiding something.

You walk him back to the gate and open the gate for him, "So sorry, I wasn't much of a help," you tell him.

He stands in the doorway and gives you his card, "Well, if you recall anything, please let us know."

You take it from him and smile, "Have a lovely day!"

Detective Leon takes one last look at you and exits the gate, you're more than glad to slam it closed.

"Well, one good liar, aren't you?" Minho comments from the top of the stairs.

"I'm impressed," he adds as you walk past him to get back inside the studio.

"He didn't buy it though," Minho informs.

You make your way to grab a chisel and put it inside your coat pocket, "Better hurry then!"

You hail a taxi the moment you're out of the gate and get into the back while clutching your chest, feeling the cold chisel inside your coat pocket.

"The cop is following us," Minho says.

You can worry about the police later. You have an urgent task and you have to get it done as fast as you can.

You look away from Minho and tell the taxi driver where to go, "Unity Hospital, please!"

-

Taking a look at the map of the hospital, you guide yourself through the hallways of the hospital.

"It's not too late to find someone else," Minho urges you to change your mind.

"Oh, shut up!" You snap at him, it's his fault to talk at such a dire time.

You take a turn to the right that leads you to where you're heading and there it is. It's not hard to find where he is, a rich family like him would be staying in the VIP room.

The hardest part of it is to enter it, you have to sneak your way in.

Seeing that you hit a dead-end, Minho takes this as his last endeavor to turn it all around, "I'm just saying it'd be much easier for me if you found someone else," he explains.

Minho seems to not get it yet that it's not about stopping the end of the world anymore. It would be pointless if Nick is still alive, he has to die no matter what.

You turn your head at him and intensely stare into his eyes, "If you're not going to help, then piss off!"

He looks at you, doubting that you dismiss him.

"I mean it," you tell him, feeling fed up with everything and you don't need him to keep interrupting you.

He sees it now that you want him to go, "Fine!"

With a snap of his fingers, he disappears right in front of you, leaving a cloud of black smoke behind him.

You manage to grab a medical mask from the nurse station and put it on, pretending as a mere relative of a patient.

Looking around the hall and making sure the coast is clear, you let yourself into the room with his name written outside the door.

There he is, lying on the bed with his body wrapped in gauze. You get closer to see his face, the burned skin around his eyes that is now closed, you guess he must be heavily sedated.

You hate to give him the easy way out but this is your chance to end everything for good.

You stand close to his unconscious body and take the chisel out of your coat pocket, pressing the sharp end to his neck.

This is not the good time to hesitate but you can feel your determination shrinks in each passing second, ultimately because Minho isn't here.

You take a deep breath and press the chisel deep into his neck. All it takes is one good stab at it, poke it real hard, and make a hole in his throat.

You lift your chisel and decide to aim it at his heart, taking one long breath, you put all of your strength into—

"Stop!" Someone shouts with the door wide open.

Your head snaps to see Detective Leon aiming his gun at you and taking cautious steps toward you.

The time is closing in and if you get caught now, you won't get another chance. You make another attempt but Detective Leon takes another step toward you, taking a good aim of his gun at you.

"I said stop!" He orders you.

You put away the chisel but keep holding it, gripping it tight until your knuckles turn pale and cold.

"I have to do it," your voice is quivering as your anxiety rises inside you.

"It's not right!" Detective Leon says, taking another careful step to get close to you.

You point your chisel at Nick's body and desperately say, "If I don't do this by midnight..." A choked sob gets in the middle of your sentence.

Standing right across from you, Detective Leon pushes his gun right at your face. He stares straight into your eyes that were filled with suspicion now filled with a slight terror and repulsion.

"Put it down!" He orders you

You quickly wipe away the tears rolling down your cheek with your hand, "There'll be fire... everywhere," you continue your words.

For the umpteenth time, he urges you with his gun steadily pointed at you, "Put it down!"

Giving in means that you've given up on everything and wasted away all of your endeavors but at the same time, you just want it to end.

"I... I can't!" You resist with your heart filled with despair.

As your eyes get blurry with tears, you wipe them away only to get caught off guard. Detective Leon successfully got ahold of you.

You keep crying as you get pushed to the wall and he puts your arms together behind your back, putting you in handcuffs.

"Minho, I'm sorry..." you mutter even though you know he's not there.

-

After hours of being locked in the interrogation room and refusing to talk without the presence of a lawyer like Kim ordered you through the phone, they let you go.

It feels good to let go of the cold of metal handcuffs around your wrists, but it's not yet the time to let out a breath of relief.

Kim sits you down on the dining table while she sits next to the lawyer, drilling you with questions about everything you've done.

You're too busy looking at the clock, seeing that it's getting closer and closer to the end. You turn your head and realize that the lawyer asked you a question, but you're too distracted to hear him.

"Pardon?"

He fixes his sitting position and clears his throat "You have to kill three people?"

You've been holding your glass of water with both hands on the table, watching the droplets of condensation dripping down the back of your hands.

"Yes," you weakly answer.

"You're saying you were only targetting people who have done something wrong?"

"Yes," you answer, "Except for Tim's brother."

You take a moment to recall his name, "Uhm... Kurt?"

The lawyer is fiddling with the stack of papers as he further asks you more questions.

"And each time you sacrificed someone, it got registered on the talisman? Is that right?"

You nod again, "Yes, but they said Tim didn't count."

The lawyer clears his throat again, but this time, he does it while glancing at Kim. He then takes a ziploc bag of your things that got confiscated when you were at the police department.

He takes the pocket watch out of the bag and slides it across the table, "Is this the talisman?"

You let go of the glass of water to take the pocket watch, opening it to find the watch is dead and the glass cracked. It appears to people that it's just an old pocket watch and nothing more.

"Before, it had numbers on it and that sort of changed when you looked at it..." your words are trailing off the second you realize how crazy you sound.

The lawyer stacks his hands on the table, "And the demon who told you to do all this?"

"Yes."

"And what did he look like?"

"A monster at first, then he turned into the man of one of my sculptures," you shortly answer.

"He looked like the man you carved? Like your sculpture you made?"

You nod.

A moment passes in silence as the lawyer exchanges a look with Kim.

"So the demon..."

"His name is Minho," you keep holding the pocket watch, hoping that it'll summon him and assure you that it is all real.

You can hear the lawyer letting out a big sigh before asking the next question, "And if you don't do what he told you..."

He sighs again as he writes something on his note, "It'll be the end of the world?"

Instead of answering it verbally, you nod.

"He didn't just tell me," You say.

You hold the pocket watch inside the palm of your hand and put all of your fingers on it, "He showed me what it would be like."

The vision Minho made you see is still vivid and you can see it replaying in the back of your head, "I felt the flames. I smelled people burning..."

The lawyer seems to have given up trying to get something that would help you avoid getting sentenced to life for what you did.

He turns to Kim and quietly whispers, "Her mind's gone, that's for sure."

It's Kim's turn to draw a big sigh and sits straighter on the chair, "You may leave now. It's late, we can continue this tomorrow," she says to him.

The lawyer collects his papers and pens, putting them into his briefcase, looking impatient to get out of here.

Kim has been eerily quiet. She comes back after sending off the lawyer, she then drinks her glass of water just so she can fill the glass with liquor next.

"I tried to stop it, Kim," you tell her.

She looks at you as she drains her first drink and refills it with more liquor.

"Honest I did," you assure her, feeling like a failure that you let down everyone, billions of them.

"Enough!" Kim snaps, throwing the glass she's holding at the wall and it's breaking into pieces, glimmering under the fluorescent light.

"You have to trust me. You have—"

Kim slams her hands down on the table, "Enough with this nonsense!"

You understand that it's a lot to take in, not to mention that she's upset and tired. You try again even though you know it's going to be another fruitless effort, "I know that you think I'm crazy, Kim, listen to me..."

"No!" She cuts you off with another slam of hands on the table.

"I told you to take your medicine!" She screams at you until her voice is strained.

You admit that you haven't taken your medicine the last few days but that doesn't mean you made everything up. You remember taking them and still seeing Minho which doesn't prove that you made it all up.

Then it hits you that the reason why she always reminds you to take your meds is not because she cares, it's because she thinks you are crazy.

"You're just like everyone else..." you meekly say.

You didn't know you're crying until you touch your cheeks and they are wet with tears, "You think I'm crazy..."

Kim doesn't say anything but goes to your room and returns with your bottle of pills in her hand. She uncaps the bottle and lets the contents spill onto the table.

"If you had taken all of these pills..." she says, letting the empty bottle roll across the dining table, "All of these wouldn't have happened!"

You take the bottle and see your name written on it, seeing all the pills scattered on the table, you realize how many days you have gone without them.

This is when your reality starts to distort. You don't what's real or not anymore. Did you make it all up? And if it's real then where's Minho?

"I—" You look around for any signs of him, of his figure, or the sight of his red hair.

"I'm not..." you pause to wipe the tears pooling in your eyes, "...not lying."

The only way to prove everything is by showing Kim that you have only a few minutes left until the world is burning and comes to an end.

You look at the clock on the wall and the time shows that you only have less than two minutes to midnight, "Not long now," you mutter.

You look at Kim and tell her, "Know that I tried to stop it."

Kim grips the edge of the table and lets out a long sing, having enough of all of it, "Just... stop," she says through her gritted teeth.

"It's coming..."

You clasp your hands together in front of you and push it close to your mouth, nothing prepares you for what's coming. You close your eyes as you keep listening to the ticking of the clock that intensifies with each passing second.

Tick, tick, tick...

-

THE END OF THE WORLD

It's midnight and you open your eyes to look at the clock to make sure of it.

The needle has ticked past midnight and you look around to see that nothing happens. You hesitate to get up from your chair and look through the window to see that the world looks exactly how it usually looks like.

A single tear escapes the corner of your eyes and rolls down your cheek, you feel faint all of a sudden. Other than that, you feel like questioning everything you know.

Are you crazy just like everyone said you are? You ask yourself.

Your legs are wobbling, you collapse onto the chair as the answer hits you.

Maybe you are crazy.

Kim turns away, possibly holding herself back from screaming at you and telling you how right she was all along.

When she turns around to face you again, she looks frustrated by you and the whole situation, but mostly by you to the point that she can't look at your face anymore.

She walks to the sofa to retrieve her handbag and then stands at the end of the dining table, "I'll... see you tomorrow," she says.

She then heads to the door and the sound of her closing the door echoes in the big space, leaving you to process everything on your own.

A moment later, you get up from your chair and walk over to the window, looking at the world that seems so small to you from up here.

And tonight, the view makes you feel smaller than you already are.

Then you hear sirens blaring in the distance. You turn around and see him there, sitting on the chair you sat on earlier with his hands on the table.

"Hey..." Minho says with an apparent sadness in his eyes.

It doesn't matter anymore whether people think you're crazy or not, now that the world is ending, you're just glad that he's there with you.

"I failed," you can hear your heart breaking inside your chest as you said it.

He inhales air and then lets it out, "Yeah, well... me too so that's that," he says.

He turns the chair to face you and puts his leg over the other, "Just got word that they're casting me out."

Minho doesn't look like he's delivering bad news with a smirk dancing on his face, "so... eternal oblivion it is," he finishes.

To say that you're disappointed with yourself would be an understatement, you are devastated. Not only that you failed the billions of people from raging flames, but also Minho.

"I'm so sorry," you sincerely tell him.

Minho gets quiet. He then gets up from his chair and walks up to you. He looks at your face and stares deeply into your eyes, he seems to have something to say to you.

You look back at him and patiently wait for him to say whatever he wants to say to you.

"Do you want to come with me?" He asks.

"What?" You ask in utter confusion.

"That's where I've been, checking the small print," he says, placing his hands on each side of his waists, "The rules don't cover it."

He takes a step closer toward you and continues speaking, "There's another loophole, apparently."

He looks at the view outside as the world slowly stirs into chaos with the sounds of sirens blaring everywhere, exactly like he showed you that night.

"They don't say anything about a human companion," he explains, then slyly smiles before talking again, "So, I mean... you could come with."

The offer comes so sudden and you remember how he talks about this place that he tried so hard to not fail his initiation.

"To eternal oblivion?" You ask for confirmation.

He scrunches his nose, "It's much worse than that," he says.

The sheer enthusiasm you have fades away with his answer, perhaps it would be bearable when you have him with you, wherever it is.

"It's with me," Minho adds with a playful smirk.

Well, the choice is here or there, but you can't have him here. You look at the world then at him.

"I'll give it a go," you say with a smile.

A smile rises on his face too, a smile that shines brighter than the fire that is about to engulf the whole world. He takes another step, closing in the gap between your bodies.

At the same time, an explosion occurred at the end of the horizon and it's so bright it's blinding you.

Now you know that it's the end of the world from how everything falls into place and in the end, nothing matters anymore. It doesn't matter that they choose not to trust you and think you're crazy.

What matters now is the one that sticks with you to the very end.

Minho takes your hand and intertwines it with yours, "It's going to be alright now."

You look at him and hold his hand back, everywhere it is, you can't wait to spend eternity with him.

Together, you're walking hand-in-hand, leaving the world as it goes up in flames and into the oblivion you go, forever more.

-

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[neoarchipelago]

And they were Roomates (part 3)

A/N: Wahoou... I didn't expect this to get so much appreciation. I remind everyone that i accept tips even thought my content stays entirely free for everyone as i don't really do this for money but for my horny demon persona. This is probably getting more parts at this point

accepting some headcanons, situation ideas for these two as i'm slowly running out, it might take me longer to write if i can't find stuff.

TW: violence, blood, crusing, etc.

Love ya'll enjoy.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

You frowned, trying to make your laptops fit in your bag. You were heavily frustrated today. 

It didn't exactly differ from your mood for the past three weeks. THREE WEEKS. He was gone for three weeks and you had 0 news. You stopped fighting with the zipper of your bag to sigh. 

Of course, as if the situation wasn't frustrating enough, you had spent the last week on a mission with a team who's sergeant hated your guts. Sergeant Keller. You were just hoping to end this as soon as possible. Avoiding the sergeant was now your top priority. You had managed to get on his last nerve by defying him at the meeting and proposing a plan that was better than his. The furious look he had sent your way promised havok if he found you alone. Which you totally were right now.

The sound of footsteps made you freeze. Spinning around you cursed. 

"Sergeant…" 

You didn't have time to finish, thanks to the punch to your sternum making you drop to your knees, breath caught in your lungs. 

Fuck…

"You are a little bitch." 

The remark passed through you like a yawn. What bothered you the most was the blows you might receive. He wouldn't kill you, or actually hurt you badly because you were still a valuable asset to the government and the military. But he'd still make it painful. 

"You're… just… mad… I'm better than you…" you hissed through breaths.

This time the kick to your ribs made you whimper. Grabbing a fistful of your hair he lowered himself next to you. 

"Stop fucking acting like you're a hero. You're a fucking terrorist. You should be dead, a bullet through the brain. Know your damn place." 

He hissed through gritted teeth. 

"You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid" you teased. 

The two other kicks, one to your stomach the other landing on your wrist were expected. 

You couldn't let yourself be spoken like that… it hurt but fuck you weren't going to let him talk down to you. 

You were hunched over on the floor, hand over your ribs, and right wrist badly hurting.  

The sergeant threw you one last glance before heading out. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. 

You took several minutes trying to calm down the pain before standing up, grabbing your things and darting out. The cold hair made you huff out little clouds. The 21st of December… you had spent many Christmases alone… but you didn't feel as lonely as you did right now. 

You bit your lip. Keeping the tears at bay… but had long lost this fight. 

---

The way home was spent crying. You were thankful no one was out at this Wonderful late hour. You had managed to reach your apartment door, tears blurring your vision, and your aching side and wrist throbbing. 

Your hand was shaking as you put the key in the lock. You pushed the door open slamming it behind you. You locked it, heading for the living room. You let your things drop on the couch. You spun around to the counter, flinching heavily as you sat down on one of the stools. You tried to breathe through the pain, throat burning as you tried to keep yourself from crying even more.

Suddenly your ears picked up a sound from behind. Jumping down and turning around you froze. 

The silence was deafening. Rage and pain filled your brain. How dare he? Just… what?! 

"Sparrow-"

"What the fuck?!" You half screamed, tears now freely falling. 

"Sparrow." His tone now much more firm. "Are you alright?" 

You chuckled, throwing the most cynical smile you could find in you. 

"I'm amazing." You hissed. 

"Stop. What's wrong? What happ-" 

"None of your business." You spat. 

You were furious. You were absolutely broken and in pain. He walked up to you, leaving a few steps in between. 

God… you had missed his eyes… you mentally cursed yourself at the thought. 

"I know you're angry. But tell me." 

"Angry? You think I'm angry? I'm furious! You left ! Without a word! I'm in pain!" 

That was true. Physical and mentally. You were trying to keep your voice down. But his words kept repeating in your mind. 'we're not friends'. 

You took a deep breath, both staying silent for a long minute. 

"Sparrow… tell me." 

You closed your eyes for a second. 

"Why?" You asked. 

You looked at him, eye to eye for once. You were genuinely asking him. 

"Don't tell me you care… you made it clear. We're not friends." 

"Sparrow.." 

"No. No. Not this time." 

You felt the heavy crush of your exhausted mind and body. You wanted to escape. You needed to. You walked around him. He grabbed your bruised wrist making you whimper in pain. 

The silence after was tense. His gaze had heavily darkened. He was… furious. 

"Who?" Was all he asked. His tone was the coldest you ever heard him. 

You walked to the cupboard, your initial destination, grabbing something inside. You ignored his question entirely. You placed the black mug on top of the counter. He eyed it. A white skull was drawn on it, with the letters lieutenant Riley. You had it made for him as a Christmas present. 

"I figured, you hate Christmas. Though I read no stupid file, it was kind of obvious." You started. Eyes not leaving the object. "I still bought you a Christmas gift. And I know it's not Christmas yet, but. I don't think we'll spend it together." 

You looked up at him. "Now you can hate me as much as you want…" you whispered. 

You didn't wait for any answer at all. You simply headed to your room, locking the door behind you. You got into bed, wincing at the bruises now forming all over your skin. You cried. Letting the tears and tiredness take you to sleep. 

___ 

The morning was rough. You had called Laswell, informing her that you were unable to get to base that morning. She gave you immediate permission to work from home. You sighed. Getting up, you threw one of your signature baggy shirts that reached the middle of your thighs. Your eyes were puffy. You could see it in your bedroom mirror. The bruise on your wrist was bad but the one on your ribs was nasty. 

You made sure that your long sleeves hid the bruise. 

Your ears picking up sounds very unusual to your apartment made you frown. Multiple voices could be heard from the living room. 

You opened the door, curious. You could hear ghost's raspy voice. You also managed to hear captain price's. You walked to the living freezing at the entrance. Many eyes were now stuck on you. 

"Hum…" you tried. 

Ghost was the first to move, straightening himself as he scanned your body, wrist, down to your naked thighs. 

You blushed. You were a bit too underdressed suddenly. He was back after all. And he … had … guests? 

"Ah ! Miss sparrow!" Price smiled happily. 

His smile was so contagious you couldn't keep yourself from smiling back. 

"Good morning captain price" you answered with a smile.  

He walked to you, surprising you with a hug. A very suspicious hug as he barely squeezed you. It was more… testing the waters. As if, checking for any injuries. You still hugged him back. The rest of the men in the living room were still staring at you. They all had a giddy smile on their faces. 

"Here. Let me present to you the rest of the squad." He said, positioning himself behind you, hands on your shoulders. 

"This is sergeant John soap McTavish." He explained, pointing to the man with a mohawk. 

"Hi!" He greeted, the taint of a Scottish accent on his voice. 

"This is Kyle gaz Garrick."

The man with a cap stood and threw a wink at you. He sat down back down rather quickly for some reason. 

"And this is Colonel Alejandro Vargas. Not really part of the squad but he's here on permission for a month." 

The man stood walking to you, taking your hand delicately in his, dropping a kiss before smiling. 

"A pleasure." His voice tainted with an accent as well. 

You blushed. Sending a smile to everyone. 

"And gentlemen this is… sparrow." He said. 

He didn't have much more information to add so you did. 

"I'm a hacker. I work for the military but I was actually your enemy a few years ago… my code name is sparrow." 

The man with a mohawk, now Soap to you jumped at the information. Fear reached you, thinking that once more… this would be like sergeant Keller. 

"You're a hacker?! Fuck that's so cool!" 

You smiled, relieved. 

"We were going to have breakfast. Would you like to join us?" Price invited. 

"LT got muffins!" Soap added. 

You glanced at the man in a balaclava, eyes widening as you saw him stand against the counter, a black mug in hand. He… was using your gift. The realisation making something burn in you.

"Hum… sure." You answered, smiling at the men. 

Everyone answered at the same time a variation of happy words. Quickly interrupted by a very familiar raspy voice.

"She's going to change first."

Everyone turned to ghost.

"I..am?" You suddenly questioned his behavior. 

He walked up to you, price stepping back from you. 

"Sure, we'll wait. We'll prepare everything." Price said, with what seemed to be a signature smile on his lips. Ghost softly wrapped his fingers around your good wrist and positioned his palm at the small of your back, beckoning you to walk back to your bedroom with him. 

Once inside he closed the door behind him. You were still mad at him, even though it seemed to fade by the minute. You decided that pushing his buttons would make your point. 

"Why do I have to change? I don't want to change." You spoke, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He froze in place looking at you. You could feel his eyes traveling down your thighs. You blushed heavily. Without a single word he managed to answer. So you teased even more. A bitter feeling at the words. 

"I don't think your teammates are interested. And I don't think you'd care if they-" 

"Listen carefully." He threatened now closing in, trapping you between the desk and his body, hands on either side of your body. Slightly hunched over you to get to your eye level. 

"If Vargas looks at your thighs with that 'i want to fuck it' look again, I'm beating the fuck out of him in the living room." 

You gasped, eyes glued to him. Was he…jealous? 

"Now you do whatever you want." He said in a low voice. 

"Are you jealous…" you answered in a low voice. 

He flinched slightly. 

"No." He quickly answered. 

Of course not. Why did that thought ever cross your mind?

"Whatever… I have to get to base anyway…" you mumbled. 

"We'll take you." He said, moving back and taking a last glance at you before stepping out. 

You stood there confused for a few seconds. This man was unreadable. Terribly confusing. One moment he hated you, the other he threatened to beat up his friend because he was checking you out. You sighed, heading for your closet.

----

You were in the noisy car as you drove to the base with everyone. You had surprisingly spent a very pleasant morning with everyone, heading back to the base after lunch. You had to, unfortunately you needed to get back on the mission and you needed to be with the team for that. 

You weren't exactly excited to see Sergeant Keller. You just hoped you'd stay out of his radar. 

Arriving in the middle of the warehouses and building, ghost parked. Everyone jumped out of the vehicle, you following carefully trying to not wince. Ghost kept his eyes on you and it was hard hiding the injuries. 

"What time you done sparrow?" Soap asked. 

"Hum… don't really know…" you answered genuinely not knowing when you'd get out of the hell of a room you were about to get to. 

"We can wait for you, we all have time to lose." Gaz added. 

You were now incredibly sure ghost had somehow told them about the bruises he saw on your wrist. 

"I don't know…" you tried. 

"We'll wait. Text me when you're done." Ghost ordered. 

You looked at him, deliberately rolling your eyes at him before heading into the building. 

You could hear soap and gaz laughing before quickly shutting up. 

---

The hours flew by you, and you were pretty glad of that. You just wanted to go back home. You were also very glad that the mission was finally coming to an end. Your part would be over tonight, so you'd be far away from sergeant Keller. 

The clock showed 7pm. You watched everyone as they put away their stuff. Grabbing your phone, you texted ghost. 

-"I'm done. In case you actually waited…

- "Copy."

You rolled your eyes again. You were putting down your phone when another notification rang. 

"Of course I waited. We're out front."

You felt a ping in your heart. What was going on? Why was he so… protective all of a sudden? You stood up grabbing your things when a sharp pain to your ribs made you yelp. 

Turning around you saw Sergeant Keller behind you. The asshole had poked exactly where he had kicked you the day before. 

"You and I need to have a little talk." He threatened. 

You looked around. The room was empty. Fuck. And of course you were caged in between the table and him. The door to your right would be hardly attainable. 

"You really adore me don't you sergeant?"  you teased, a little shiver of anxiety running through you. 

"You have such a big mouth. Somebody ought to make you shut it." 

The slap across your faces stung. You had managed somehow to bite your lip in the process, little droplets of blood on your tongue. God damn it. 

"I literally didn't do shit this time Keller." You rang, rage slightly rushing through you. 

"You're right. Just thought I'd make you remember your place one last time. So you wouldn't go pretending to be part of the good guys again." 

"I AM part of the good guys for fucks sake!" You yelled. 

He grabbed your throat. Making you grab his wrist. 

"You think playing around with your little laptop after you were hunted down for multiple crimes makes you good? You think this is your redemption arc? Fucking idiot" 

You hissed as he pressed against your ribs again. He let go of your neck, now grabbing your bruised wrist and squeezing. You yelped in pain. Of course… using the already bruised parts not to add anymore evidence. 

"Fuck… stop Keller!" You yelled through gritted teeth. 

"Little bitch." He answered, a punch to your bruised ribs, this time making you cry out in pain, vision darkening at the intensity.

You barely heard him walk in. You didn't fully understand why Keller was thrown across the room. When the pain was finally slightly down you looked up, eyes widening at the sight. Ghost had Keller by the throat against the wall. He had apparently punched him already, as by the evident blood running down Keller's nose. 

"Ghost…" you tried. 

"Get out." He ordered. 

"What..?" You asked, shocked. 

"Soap and price are waiting. Get. Out!" He ordered, barking the last word. 

You flinched, but moved, hand over your ribs, running out. You heard Keller get punched one more time. 

Fuck fuck fuck. Your eyes stung with tears. Throwing open the heavy metal door, cold air biting at your skin, your eyes searched for price and soap. They were right in front, heads turning to you, instantly running as they saw the blood on your lip. 

"Sparrow!" Your heard soap. 

You breathed heavily. Ears slightly ringing. Price and soap stood next to you inspecting you. 

"Ghost…" you tried. 

"What?" Soap urged. 

"He's… he's beating up Keller… you got to stop him!" You yelled. 

Alejandro and gaz showed up running up to  price. Price cursed heavily. 

"Alejandro gaz! Stay with her, soap, with me!" He yelled. 

Soap and price rushed past you, as Alejandro and gaz surrounded you. 

"You're alright princess.." Alejandro said, a worried look on his face. 

"I'm fine… I'm fine… it's just a few scratches." You reassured. 

You turned around staring at the metal door. You were shivering. It was probably the cold… or probably the panic coursing through you. You were so thankful that he had shown up. But you were extremely worried about the trouble he was going to get into because of you. 

"Come on.. sparrow get in the car." Gaz asked. 

"N-no… I… ghost " you stumbled over your words. 

"He's coming back, don't worry. Price and soap are with him." Alejandro tried. 

"No!" A whimper escaped your lips. 

Your brain was a fuzz. You didn't know exactly what you were feeling. Any anger towards him had vanished. You were worried, you needed to see him. 

"Come on Sparrow, we're taking you home." 

You shook your head, making you even dizzier than you already were. 

"We'll bring him back, we promise." Gaz assured. 

You took a deep breath finally following them into the car. Tears fell down your cheeks, the cold hair had helped them turn your cheeks red. 

You glanced one last time towards the door before Alejandro and gaz drove out. 

Tags: 

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[whump-imagines]

Movie Night

Pairing: Eddie x reader feat. bestie Buck

Word count: 900 ish

Reader has a POTS flare up and the boys (esp Eddie) are a little extra about it.

Finishing the bowl of popcorn, you stood from the couch to make more. You and Eddie were spending the day with Buck binging Marvel movies.

As soon as you were fully upright, you felt your heart start to race and lightheadedness followed quickly. Before you could sit back down, the world tilted and went dark.

You felt fingers pressed against the pulse in your neck. “Jesus, 180 and irregular,” you heard Eddie say.

The blood pressure cuff squeezing your arm caused you to groan.

“Open your eyes for us, sweetheart,” Eddie requested.

“BP is 96/74,” Buck said.

You peeled your eyes open to their concerned faces. You were laid on the floor and you realized they had your feet propped up on the couch.

“Hi,” Eddie said as he pushed some hair off your forehead and ran his thumb soothingly over your cheek.

“Ugh,” you groaned again. “Guess I should have let one of you make more popcorn.” Lifting a hand, you pressed it against your sternum to attempt to relieve the ache.

“Chest pain?” Eddie asked.

“Isn't there always?” You grumbled, rhetorically. “It's not that bad, though.”

Eddie took your hand and pressed two fingers into the pulse at your wrist. “Already down to 165,” he announced a moment later.

Buck pressed the start button on the automatic BP monitor to get another reading.

As it ran, you took a deep breath. “Holy palpitations.”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, you're definitely throwing a lot of PVCs.”

“Up to 110/78,” Buck added.

You moved to sit up but both of them stopped you.

“Can we move to the couch?” you asked. “The floor isn't actually all that comfortable.”

“Fine, but I'm moving you.”

You rolled your eyes but nodded.

Eddie leaned over and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He lifted you and quickly set you down on the couch. Buck set the BP monitor on your stomach next as the cuff was still wrapped around your arm.

“You guys are so dramatic. I'm fine,” you complained. “This is normal.” You tried once more to sit up and Eddie pushed you down once more.

“Collapsing nearly immediately upon standing is not normal. Not even for you.” He tossed a couple throw pillows under your feet. “Now will you just lay down, please?”

“I probably just overdid it a little when I was baking earlier and stood up too fast. I'll be fine.”

Eddie just waived a hand dismissively. “I'm going to get the ECG and you're staying horizontal until you're under 120.”

Buck just chuckled at your obvious frustration. “I'll grab you a Gatorade.”

“And more popcorn please!” you called after him.

Eddie was back first with the tiny handheld ECG monitor he'd bought on amazon shortly after you'd started dating. Thankfully, he mostly only pulled it out when you had fainting days. He started the BP monitor once more as he started to place the electrodes on your chest.

“Am I gonna live?” You rolled your eyes at him once more.

“Still at 150 with a lot of PVCs. Your BP is better though,” he said, finally removing the cuff from your arm.

Buck handed you a Gatorade with a straw a minute later and set the bowl of popcorn on the couch next to you. You drank half before handing it back to Buck to set on the coffee table.

“Thanks.” You started to shift to make room on the couch and before they could protest you pointed at Eddie then the couch. “Sit.”

He did as asked and you settled with your head on his leg. Next, you kicked the pillows out from under your feet and rolled on your side.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asked as Buck settled back into his chair.

You rolled your eyes. “Getting comfortable. I'm staying horizontal as requested. You do know how to manage my POTS myself, right?”

He hummed but didn't actually agree.

“Play the movie.” You took some deep breaths and tried to relax. Within a few minutes you noticed fewer palpitations.

You felt when Eddie started to finally relax. You ate some popcorn and quickly decided it was not an easy task laying down. Chucking a piece at his head, you asked, “Are you gonna freak out if I sit up?”

He sighed. “No, I won't.”

You shifted, leaning into his side. He wrapped an arm around you and shifted the popcorn bowl closer. You shoved a handful into your mouth. “It's a lot easier to eat popcorn upright.”

After a few minutes, once Eddie was sure your heart rate wasn't going back up, you were sure, he reached over and unclipped the wires from the electrodes. “Sorry. I just worry.”

“I know.” You kissed his cheek. “I know it gives you some peace of mind, so I don't mind.”

“Thank you.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead then pulled your chin up and suddenly his lips were on yours.

“Oh, get a room,” Buck complained.

“Shut up.” Eddie laughed. “It was one kiss.”

[rascal-xo]

I heard your requests are open~

I'm always a sucker for angsty hostage reader fics. Maybe one of the 141 are clearing a warehouse, and come across hostage!reader. He takes them back to the base for their injuries and they start to get close

Hopefully this is enough to go off of, I really like your writing

Special Affairs | Task Force 141 x GN!Reader

Chapter Summary: You’ve found yourself in a sticky situation and end up crossing paths with none other than the infamous 141 soldiers.

Warnings: Violence, weapons, language, reads like an action fic ‼️

Word Count: a lot. (i’m too lazy to check lol)

A/N: I decided to let my creativity run wild and took some inspiration from the Cold War campaign (my fav). I hope you enjoy and ty for the request!!

|NOT CANONICALLY ACCURATE| |OVERLAPPING OF TIMELINES| PART 2 HERE

When you were recruited for the CIA, It was only a matter of time you’d find yourself in this situation. Your training had prepared you for the unexpected, but nothing could have quite prepared you for the events that unfolded during this covert mission.

As a highly skilled agent, you were sent deep undercover to gather intel on a notorious terrorist organization. You had infiltrated their ranks and gained their trust, positioning yourself to uncover their plans from within.

But during one of the critical moments, a sudden turn of events led to chaos.

As tensions escalated, shots rang out, triggering a full-blown firefight and you were caught in the crossfire, you fought valiantly, taking down several hostiles. You were outnumbered and one of the enemy operatives managed to sneak up behind you, immobilizing you with a well-placed blow to the head.

When you regained consciousness, you found yourself disoriented and restrained in a dimly lit underground bunker. Your head throbbed with pain as you struggled against the ropes binding your wrists.

Hours turned into days as you remained imprisoned, your captors using various failed forms of psychological torture to extract information.

Unbeknownst to Captain Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz, their mission had brought them closer to the underground facility where you were held captive.

Their objective aligned with yours - to dismantle the terrorist organization from within.

As the four of them navigated the corridors, they encountered heavy resistance. The sound of gunfire echoed through the compound, alerting your captors to the presence of intruders. “Was zum Teufel?!” (What the hell?!”)

The two armed soldiers in your room snapped up from their seats and readied their rifles to fire back if the door opened.

Just as the enemy closed in on your location, the sound of a door being kicked open reverberated through the bunker.

Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz burst into the room, their weapons blazing. Their entrance sent your captors into disarray, allowing you to break free from your restraints.

Without wasting another moment you grabbed a gun on the nearby table, just as The Captain’s weapon pointed away from the now dead guards and to you, “Don’t Shoot!” You exclaimed.

“Who are you?” Ghost barked, not lowering his gun yet.

“I’m CIA.” Price motioned for everyone to lower their weapons and you walked closer to the group.

You nodded to them, “Clandestine Special Officer, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“What’re you doing down here, Lass?” Soap chimed in, looking at you intently.

“Came here on the job you’ve been sent to finish.” You looked at your shoulder which was still freshly wounded, and then looked around the room for your jacket. You finally caught eye on it laying on the floor and quickly went to put it on.

“Wait, you cant go on like this, you’re broken.” Gaz points out, motioning to your shoulder. You could feel the black and blue forming around your eyes and the cut stinging on your lip as well. ‘So much for covert’ you thought to yourself.

“I’m fine, but I know East Berlin won’t be if we don’t get moving.” You answer.

Captain Price exchanged a glance with Soap before nodding in agreement. "They’re right. We need to finish this mission, and it seems like we've got ourselves an unexpected ally," he said, his voice steady and commanding. “Gonna get that arm checked out once we’re back, got it?”

You nod and collect the rest of your scattered gear, before heading out of the bunker and to the main facility. “So what’s the motherfucker got down here that needs to be guarded like this?” Gaz asks, as you take down maps and manifestos from the enemy conference room which is now empty.

“Missiles.” They all pause and turn to you in shock. “American missiles.”

“Steamin bloody Jesus.” Soap mutters.

“In the 50’s, Operation Greenlight put nuclear devices within every major European city as the ultimate ‘fuck you’ to a Soviet invasion of Europe. But an upgraded American Precision Strike system when online 2 weeks ago, sent up red flags all over but they were disguised at that time.”

“Perseus.” Price’s voice had anger lining it. “When does the system become active?”

“We have 24 hours at best. Launch was already delayed a few days from what I understand.”

The group exchanged concerned glances. "We need to move fast and take out the missile launch site before it's too late," Captain Price said, his voice urgent.

You nodded in agreement, knowing that time was of the essence. "I have intel on the location of the launch site, but it's heavily guarded," you said, pulling out a map and pointing to a spot. "We need a solid plan of attack."

You joined Captain Price and Soap as they made their way towards the launch site, keeping your eyes peeled for any enemy forces. Gaz and Ghost went around the south entrance.

Finally, you reached the launch site and saw the missile silos looming in the distance. The group split up, with Captain Price and Soap taking the left flank and you taking the right.

As you made your way towards the silos, you encountered heavy resistance. Enemy soldiers were everywhere, firing at you from all directions. You returned fire, taking out as many as you could.

When you reached the site, you quickly accessed the control panel, determined to disable the launch sequence. With deftness born from your CIA training, you navigated the complex system, neutralizing the imminent threat.

“Bravo Six to Actual- do you copy?” Price spoke.

“This is actual, what’s your report?” Laswell’s voice coming from the comms.

“We’ve got the threat. They were active missiles.”

The tension in the room dissipated as the launch sequence halted. A collective sigh of relief passed through the team.

“Gonna call in the evac, Y/N you with us?” Soap asked, coming to the group. Going back with the 141 didn’t seem like such a bad idea now that you had worked with them. The CIA could use the extra knowledge first hand.

“Hope you’ll save me a seat.” You smiled.

———

After the mission, you and the rest of the team returned to a secure base in London. You found yourself sitting at the counter at a pub.

You watched from across the bar as Soap scored a bullseye with the dart, earning a triumphant cheer from Gaz. Ghost simply nodded in approval, his focus seemingly undisturbed.

“Adler it’s Y/N. Everything’s been handled but I’m in London for the time being.” You sent the voicemail and set your phone down.

Captain Price walked over, a slight smile playing on his lips. He took a seat beside you, signaling the bartender for a drink.

"CIA, huh?" Price remarked, his voice carrying a hint of warmth. "So what’s next for you, darling?”

"There’s always something that needs to be dealt with. But It feels good to have a moment to breathe," you replied, taking a sip from your drink. The cool liquid provided a soothing sensation as it slid down your throat.

You looked up to meet his gaze. You had known of captain for quite some time now. There wasn’t a file at Langley you hadn’t been assigned to go through, his of course was more seasoned than others.

Price's piercing blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to fade away. His expression held a mix of admiration and camaraderie, a silent acknowledgment.

He leaned back in his seat, his expression now uncertain. “Laswell never mentioned you or anything about this mission being active.”

“Well neither did Shepard, and we all know you have a Shepard problem.” You moved your glass in a circular motion slightly, watching the golden liquid rise and fall.

“We’ll always have that problem, darling.” He scoffed, downing the rest of his scotch.

“Well since i’m here now, consider that problem handled.” You said, suddenly deciding that you and the 141 weren’t quiet done being a team yet…

————————————————————————————

A/N: I highkey enjoy writing action/double meaning story fics. LMK what y’all think :))

[materassassino]

a DinLuke kiss for either 30, 24 or 9 please 👀

This meanders like hell but they really were not cooperating with this.

Kiss roulette!

---

30 - A kiss to the palm of the hand

It is their third mission.

They work well together, once they get over their initial standoffishness. Din keeping his guard up, still wary of this man he trusted to once train his child, and Luke maintaining that impenetrable, aloof façade last only until the end of the first mission, when they are trapped and that distance might kill them. They make it out, and something shifts.

Luke smiles more, wider, more glittering things. Din talks more, allowing himself to be drawn into actual conversation. Small, concentric shifts that surprise the both of them.

Their second mission is seamless, goes off without a hitch: the Imps are too terrified by the presence of Luke Skywalker for anything but gibbering surrender, which Din is grateful for.

But then their third mission is the complete opposite.

The intel was faulty, there were numbers at the facility two men alone, even with one of them a nigh-omnipotent Jedi master, could never have dreamt of dealing with. They should be attacking this place with a squadron, a whole army, not two men and an astromech.

They have to cut their losses, run limping away to lick their wounds. Din’s going to kick Carson Teva’s ass for this one. As they run for their ship, Luke turns, throws his hands up. There are stormtroopers swarming towards them, an unstoppable white tidal wave of idiot true believers, and Luke digs into the Force to throw them back. He tries to wrench the blast doors closed, gets pretty far, there’s a sliver left between them…

And for once, a stormtrooper actually has good aim.

The blaster bolt goes right through Luke’s right hand, making him yell in pain. Din stares as he cradles it, teeth gritted, and he has to haul Luke away, back to their borrowed ship, depositing him with perhaps less gentleness than the moment would warrant into the co-pilot seat, but he’s desperate to get them off this kriffing moon.

He deftly dodges laser cannon fire, working the engines to screaming point to get them away as fast as possible. A retreat is, of course, dishonourable, but Din’s run from more overwhelming odds than he’d care to count at this point. He has a kid to take care of, so sue him. Once the rippling blue of hyperspace is around them, on course back to Nevarro, he whirls in his seat, hands reaching for Luke but not daring to touch, hovering weirdly.

Luke unfolds from himself with less of a pained moan and more of an inconvenienced sigh. Din watches him peel back his single glove with a grimace, to reveal a smouldering hole. Thank the manda Din’s helmet has filters, otherwise he’s certain the smell of charred flesh would be nauseating.

“That’s another one gone,” Luke grumbles, holding it up.

Din stares. “What do you mean ‘another one’?”

Luke turns his hand so the palm is facing Din. Din winces, but then he realises something. There’s no horrid sight of burnt flesh, but rather the snapped wires and broken servos of a prosthetic. Din stares some more, before sinking into his seat in relief.

Just a prosthetic. No horrendous, life-altering injury. Well… not a recent one, anyway.

Luke pokes at his own fingers, frowning. They don’t even twitch, the only movement left all in his wrist. Din sits up straight again, eyeing it. He wants to reach for it, study it, hold it gently. He blinks the thoughts away.

“How…?” He doesn’t know how to finish. Luke has never not answered a question from him, but he knows he’s being incredibly rude. “No, forget it…”

Luke looks up. “Oh. Uh… during the War.” His face is tight, pinched, something haunted in his eyes. It’s not a face Din has ever seen him wear. “I kriffed up, badly.”

“I’m sorry,” Din says, but Luke shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine.” He manages to hitch on a smile, something reassuring. “I’ll just need to go to Chandrila for a new one.”

That’s not what Din meant, but he doesn’t know how to correct Luke without making it worse.

“Can you not fix it?” he asks instead. Luke shakes his head.

“I’m a mechanic, but this is a little beyond me. It’s fried. Plus the synthskin needs replacing as well.”

Din nods. He knows Luke can probably fly his X-Wing perfectly well one-handed, but still… he can’t keep the worry from gnawing at him. He gazes at Luke, who has slumped into his seat now. He looks exhausted, truth be told, and Din feels the same, now the adrenaline is fading. He wants to sleep for about seven business days.

They travel on in silence, a rare thing for Luke, the both of them wrapped in their own thoughts for a long while. Din loses track of time as his eyelids grow heavy. They can afford to sleep until they get to Nevarro, he’s certain no one is giving chase, and he folds his hands over his sternum. They could have died, back there. Even with all Luke’s skill and power and his own experience, they came dangerously, terrifyingly close. Who would take care of Grogu? His gut twists sickeningly.

And he hates the way Luke stopped, putting his very unarmoured self between Din and a horde of stormtroopers, lightsaber disengaged. As if Luke was expendable. His gut twists again, some cold horror clawing itself up his throat, his heart thudding. What if? What if? His fist clenches on the armrest and he looks at Luke.

“Hey, Luke?” he says.

Luke hums, just enough of a reply that Din knows he’s still awake.

“Don’t… don’t try shit like that again,” he says. Luke opens his eyes, though they droop heavily, and he frowns.

“Like what?” he asks.

“I’m the one wearing the beskar,” Din says. “Let me take the hits.”

Luke blinks at him, then smiles, something sleepy and pleasant and something stutters in Din’s chest, something winged the colour of sunlight. He swallows.

“I can’t promise that,” he says, and that makes Din scowl.

“Are all Jedi this foolish?” he grumbles. Luke shrugs.

“I don’t know, I’m the only one.”

Another twist within Din, his heart aching. He isn’t fully in control of himself when he leans over, working almost on autopilot. He reaches out, his hand perhaps trembling ever-so-slightly, and takes Luke’s left.

“Then perhaps side-by-side would be a compromise?” he says. Luke looks down at his hand and Din’s, and back up again. Din sees his throat bob, swallowing just like Din did earlier.

“That could work,” he replies, his voice slightly hoarse in a way that makes Din’s heart stutter again, stop-start-stop-start, out of rhythm. He leans forward, tipping his helmet up, and kisses Luke’s palm. He hears Luke’s breath hitch, feels his hand quiver, his fingers twitch. Din rubs circles with his thumb where his lips just touched, feeling mystified by his own bravery.

“Good,” he replies, replacing his helmet. “We’re a team.”

[divine-misfortune]

Lucifer below, finally someone sees that Cirrus just needs to be taken apart every once in a while

Maybe Rain and Swiss pull in others to join- after all, it's not every day you see the ghoulette who commands the stage during Mummy Dust crumble

Oh you don't know how insane I've been about this.

Edit: I should probably provide context for this because it was a few months ago - @iamthecomet enabled me the first time I posted about this and anon you've enabled me to become worse :3

Heavy warning for objectification on this, degradation, a little pain play (and i mean little), and the consent comes off mildly dubious

But

Swiss and Rain are more than happy to share :)

“Tight, isn't it?” 

“Fuck Rainy…” Phantom hissed through his teeth, chin dropping to his chest as he braced his hands on the table bracketing her hips. “Real tight.” 

Buried to the hilt, Cirrus could feel the intrusion. Less of a stretch and more of a swell. It makes her groan all the same, toes curling where they barely graze the cool tile of the kitchen floor. She bit down on the makeshift gag between her impressively sharp teeth at the first shallow thrust like Phantom was testing the waters - whether that be for his sake or hers she couldn't say. 

“Took a hell of a lot of work getting it in there,” Swiss chuckled and draped himself over the back of Rain's chair, kissing the water ghoul's temple as Rain pet his cheek. “Cunt was a little too sloppy to be much good for anyone else when we finished with her but water lily here had a real good fix.” 

Phantom nodded but was quite obviously wasn't listening too intently, his violet eyes glittered as he stared down at the place their bodies met. Should have met. She struggled to lift her head just in time to watch his fingertips traced the soft flesh toned silicone jutting awkwardly out of her, it looked as strange as it felt. 

“Made good use of that fleshlight Sunny got tired of after a week.” Rain shrugged easily, head tipping to the side as Swiss started to mouth lazily down the side of his neck. 

“Made our toy useful.” The multi ghoul mumbled, seemingly more focused on nibbling Rain's pulsepoint than acknowledging Cirrus as more than an object. She was an object for all intents and purposes, and that was all she'd be as long as she was tied to that table - and only Swiss and Rain knew how long that would be. 

“Don't be shy bug,” Rain encouraged with a deceptively sweet lilt to his voice, “it won't bite.” 

Her head hit the wood with a dull thud when Phantom snapped his hips forward, nudging the silicone that much deeper into her in a way that was borderline uncomfortable. A little encouragement was all Phantom needed apparently. Thrust after thrust till he took to a semi-frantic pace, one that typically would have forced her eyes back into her skull and left her sore for days, and yet she felt none of it. 

Frustrated she twisted against her restraints, rope biting deeper into her wrists. She knew the more she pulled the tighter they'd get. It was the last thing she'd requested before Rain had secured the scrap of fabric between her teeth and behind her head. Cirrus still whined. Envious. Forced to simply watch Phantom blindly chase his selfish pleasure while she remained denied and untouched. 

Swiss had reminded her in a sing-song voice as the silicone was seated inside her that toys have no use for pleasure, toys only have to give but that didn't stop her from wanting. 

There was a particularly wet sound that came each time he bottomed out that just seemed to taunt her with what she couldn't have. 

“Look at how pink his ears get when he's close,” Swiss mused and Rain hummed in agreement. “Sweet thing, feel so good don't you?” 

Phantom, steadily turning an entirely new shade of red, only nodded fervently. He couldn't get the words out despite opening his mouth to try, only managing a strained whine. He often lost his words when embarrassment kicked in, quickly provoked into silence by the two almost predatory sets of eyes focused on him and every little move he made. Swiss cooing over him also didn't help, but that was the point. Swiss liked the little bug flustered more than anything, and Rain just enjoyed seeing them all squirm while he remains calm and collected. It was the power trip he got off more than anything. 

“How much longer do you think he'll last?” Rain asked, coyly swatting Swiss’ hand from the button at the top of his shirt. 

“Few more little humps at most.” 

“Gonna make a mess of it for us?”

“Course he will.”

The lip of the table pressed into the back of her knees, biting slightly with every uncoordinated thrust from the little ghoul. Another louder sound of dissatisfaction tore out of her, craning her neck to look at the two ghoul's clearly enjoying her fruitless writhing. Her eyes widened and narrowed with another useless pull against her restraints. Every inch of her buzzed incessantly, anticipation pinging off of each nerve in a manner that could only be described as torturous. Wired. 

Cirrus felt both the rope and her jaw creak from pressure as Rain's gaze swept over her like one would look at a painting in a hotel lobby. Cold consideration, semi disinterested. She distracted with her struggle in his opinion, took away from the main event. He turned his head away, into Swiss’ neck. The multi ghoul chuckled through a hitch in his breath and peeled away from Rain, carrying the scent of burning tobacco and petrichor towards her. 

He leaned over her, blocking the harsh ceiling lights above. She attempted to growl but he killed the sound before it could grow into something proper. His fingers curled around her throat slowly, one falling into place after the other purposefully before he introduced his grip. 

“I think our toy is broken” Rain tut, chair squeaking as he got to his feet. “Makes far too much noise.” 

Cirrus swallowed harshly, throat clicking under Swiss’ palm. His face spelled out the disappointment echoed in Rain's voice. 

“Looks like we didn't do a thorough job,” he released her and Cirrus sucked in a greedy breath through her nose. His thumb swiped over the corner of her gagged mouth, smearing drool across the flushed skin of her cheek. “I think there's still a few thoughts left up there.” 

“Oh?” Rain had taken to the space against Phantom’s back. “I don't remember giving it permission to think.”

The kid was still too enraptured by the warm wet heat around his cock to pay him, or any of them, much mind. Fixated on how her thighs shook every time he bottomed out. Captivated by her neglected cunt leaking around the silicone, still helplessly turned on despite it all.

Cirrus screwed her eyes shut when Rain flicked her clit, a high wounded sound tearing out of her as she unintentionally bucked off the table - Phantom cursed softly in response. It was an abrupt and sharp feeling that left her reeling, worsened when Swiss tugged at the painfully tight clamps pinching her nipples. A harsh tug at the chain connecting them and she was keening, back curving off of the wooden surface beneath her. He released at the peak of the cruel sensation and let her collapse like a ragdoll back onto the table, tears beginning to blur her vision. 

She could stop it if she wanted to. Snap her fingers twice and both ghouls would drop it all to cut her free and carefully lift her upright. A simple action and they'd feed her the antidote to their venom in an instant, but the poison had already gone to her head. Left her with syrup in her veins and fog in her head. She was too hooked to ever want the cure. 

“Fuck, fuck I'm so -” Phantom gasped as Rain pet over his hip.

“Knew you'd be soon,” he laughed “pull it out. Show me, show me how much you like our toy.” 

Phantom whimpered but obliged. Cock slipping out to lay aching against the silicone, head slapping wet against her clit. Another assault on her nerves. His head fell back against Rain's shoulder as he wrapped those thin fingers around him at the base. It sounded slick as he gave a slow, experimental stroke just to watch pre bead and drip from the near purple tip. 

“Isn't it so pretty?” The water ghoul sighed fondly despite the little pained sounds Phantom made, fighting to not hump into his fist. 

“Cutest little cock” Swiss agreed and also encroached on the little ghoul's space. He lifted his chin and kissed the tip of his nose then the corner of his mouth, somehow Phantom was the one who looked wrecked. “Such a good bug for me…You wanna cum for us?” 

“Nn - yes, oh fuck, so bad Swiss.” 

Another kiss that had him melting, surely his knees were ready to buckle by the time Swiss licked over the seam of his lips. Rain gave him a few more generous strokes before finding her glassy eyes. His smile was dangerous. He lined Phantom back up with the slit of the fleshlight and let him hammer home. 

“Good boy…Go on, give our toy it's reward. Use it like a toy is meant to be used.” 

The tears rolled down her cheeks in time with Phantom's final sob of pleasure, she could only imagine the sensation of him spilling hot and sticky inside of her. 

Her bottom lip quivered and Rain's eyes glittered gleefully. He hummed to himself as he pulled a marker from his pocket, drawing a single black line below her bellybutton, just above that dark little patch of curls.

“First one of the night, doll.” 

[whumble-beeee]

The Man in the Sweater Vest

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 7

Content: attempted noncon, threatened mouth whump, disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, scissors, tied up/handcuffs, noncon unshirtening, noncon touch, past captivity references, graphic threats, blood, crapton of whump. As a treat :)

* * * * * * * *

Excerpt from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[Inevitably, there will be disagreements on how you should treat your captured hero. One villain might want to just hold the hero hostage long enough to finish their dastardly plans. Another will want to break the hero’s will entirely! Or anything else in between! 

But when working together with other villains, bounty hunters, henchmen, etc, it is crucial that everyone is on the same page about how your captured hero is to be treated, lest your hero end up with a few less limbs than you meant them too, or your months of breaking down the hero's fragile mind is undone by a single nice gesture.

Always communicate effectively, your hero will thank you for it (or curse the day you were born)!]

* * * * * * * *

Sweater-vest stumbled back, reeling from the punch and clutching his face before pulling his hands down and gawking at the blood staining his hands.

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!!” Stan screamed. 

An intense elation washed through his chest despite the surprisingly sharp exploding pain that crackled up the very bones of his arm when he punched the man, and the now freshly ripped open scabs and bruises from where he’d forgotten to account for the handcuffs and yanked on them violently, streaming new ruby red over dried light brown that already carved down his arms; 

Because he'd got him. He'd got him! Punched him, made him back off! Stan did that! He'd finally managed to actually do something about the atrocities being committed against him and it was so, so sweet. 

Relatively short-lived, though. 

Vaughn, the sweater vest man, started to giggle to himself as he wiped the blood streaming from his nose onto his sleeve. Elation gave way to tentative confusion. Then a sinister seed started to take root in Stan's gut, the roots already reaching out and tightening around his body.

“You-...” Vaughn giggled some more. “You– you think–?...”

He started fully laughing, speech overtaken by an apparent hilarity that Stan must’ve just been too shocked by the sudden mood change to understand. He was cackling. Then practically shrieking, crazy, loud, heaving laughs.

He must be crazy. 

Insane. 

Well and truly insane, the way he was shriek laughing into his shining red-stained hands.

His gaze snapped up to Stan, and Stan could practically hear the horror movie crackling effect with how fast it snapped up, crazy maniacal shudders still overtaking his body, piercing gaze turned wide, animalistic.

“You think you can HURT ME?! HURT ME?! AHAHAHAHA!!”

Suddenly Stan slammed into the wall, cuffed wrists pinned above his head, chest to chest with the crazy man and staring up into his crazy bloodshot eyes.

“You can't hurt me,” he growled into Stan’s ear through gritted teeth. ”I don't feel pain. I carved that weakness out a long time ago, my brain doesn’t register it anymore! And I did it so I could deal with horrible little brats like you–” he slammed Stan's wrists into the wall, “--however I see fit! So I could do whatever I wanted to them. So that even if they fight back, they always, always, always lose.”

He pulled back and leaned into Stan's face, staring the captive directly in his glaringly defiant, wide and shining eyes. Hot shaking breaths misted surprisingly minty breath onto Stan’s cheeks, nearly overpowered by the metallic tang of blood that still poured down his face.

“Always submit. Just like you're going to.”

Stan pulled down hard against Vaughn's grasp, struggling and wiggling and tugging and screaming and kicking and doing every single little thing he could to, if not escape, at least make this as difficult as possible.

“Get away from me!" He cried. "GET AWAY FROM ME, get OFF of me, I’m not gonna let you do this you sadist, you can’t do this to me!! LET GO–!”

A punch to the gut. Stan tried to double over and wheezed as much as he could with his arms pinned up, which delivered him right into another punch to the face.

 Then something cool and sharp stabbed into the soft underside of his chin, straining his neck with how far his head pushed back into the wall.

“This is why I like to keep my victims gagged,” Vaughn gritted. “That bounty hunter of yours never does it, no matter how I tell him to. Always has to do stuff his own way, never listens. All he does is talk talk talk, always has a retort for everything. So defiant, and so is every single subject he brings in.”

A dull aching throb emanated from where Stan’s head pressed into the wall. Black spots dotted his vision. 

“You–... y-you can't–”

The scissors pulled back and dove toward Stan's mouth, eliciting a loud cut-off scream of revolt as he cowered and squeezed his eyes shut from some vain, animalistic instinct to protect himself. 

Then he pried open his eyes again, confused when no cutting metallic pain ripped through the fragile flesh of his face.

The handle of the scissors were fuzzy, too close for his eyes to focus.

They weren’t that far into his mouth.

Just enough that if Stan tried to close it, his teeth would clip on the tip of the metal blades instead. 

The scissors lifted slowly, tapping on his top teeth, tilting his head up until he stared into Vaughn’s metallic blue eyes once more.

“I could always prep your throat with these if you like,” he drawled softly, letting go of Stan’s cuff chain and instead lightly grasping his thumb and forefinger under Stan’s chin, forcing his mouth open further. A small sob crackled out from Stan’s throat. 

“It would be so easy… I could just–” 

The scissors lurched further into Stan’s mouth, and Stan let out another involuntary squeak and an open-mouthed, unintelligible pleading of “no, no, no, no…” as tears started to sting at his eyes.

But he let him do it. 

He even still held his arms up, because surely if he tried to fight back now, with the scissors in his mouth quite literally pinning him to the wall… He didn’t even want to think of the consequences.

“Careful, dropje. Wouldn’t want to cut yourself. Be quiet, be still, be good for me, right? You can be good for me? You can finally shut the hell up. No more fighting.”

He let go of Stan's chin and let his hands wander lower, caressing Stan’s sides, the curve of his waist, making his entire body tense and shudder. His breathing turning loud and shallow as he cringed away. 

Vaughn just giggled.

“See? Isn’t this better? You’re not getting hurt, you’re doing what I say…” His fingers slipped under the waistband of Stan’s pants again. Slower this time. More deliberate. 

It took all of Stan's willpower to not start hyperventilating at what he knew was about to happen. He knew. It was always this, wasn’t it?

Vaughn’s voice lowered as he leaned closer, pressing his body into Stan’s. He could feel the fibers of the stupid damn sweater vest against his stomach, deceptively soft, almost pleasant. The hard blade of the scissors tapped on the tip of his nose. “Because you physically have no other–”

BANG!!

Stan screamed. 

Vaughn screamed. 

The ghost of the gunshot echoed off the cinderblock walls. 

Vaughn also nearly fell backward, pushing off of Stan just in time for Stan to fall to the floor in a duck-and-cover position and pray to whatever gods would listen that his last day on earth wouldn't have been spent dealing with two of the worst people he'd ever had the displeasure of being kidnapped by.

Wait, scratch that, his knee reminded him. He'd had worse.

His heart threatened to jump out of his chest completely, but he finally realized that in fact, he was still alive. So he opened his eyes to what he never thought to be one of the most beautiful sights in the world;

Deeby. 

Gun pointed to the sky and streaming a light grey smoke into a small puff of explosion that hadn't had time yet to dissipate. 

“What in the ever-loving SHIT are you doing?!” he shouted.

He was completely maskless, face now on full display, fiery eyes matching his equally fiery sneer. The sudden absence of the mask almost scared Stan more than the gunshot, the sight making his heart beat in his throat.

Then, for just a split second, Deeby's enraged eyes met Stan's stare. His eyes scanned down his body, looking him up and down, his face changing ever so slightly when his gaze caught in Stan’s chest. A slight crinkle of the eyebrows, a small tilt of the head. Then his eyes widened in some sort of realization, and Stan felt his heart turn to ice. 

Recognition.

No. 

He couldn't have realized who he was. 

Just because of the binder?!

Stan choked on his own throat as the collar suddenly constricted once more and he was dragged violently forward to his knees.

“Your fucking dog punched me in the face!” Vaughn shouted, jangling Stan around enough that he had to grab the collar just to gain back his breath.

“Just because–!” 

Vaughn jolted Stan's collar back hard and cut him off with a violent gag.

“I was disciplining him.” Vaughn narrowed his eyes at the mercenary. “Like we're supposed to.” 

Deeby’s jaw set. And still, he managed to find a slight smug smile within his fury. “That why your face is gushing blood, then? Disciplined him too hard?”

Stan didn't even realize when they started, but tears were practically streaming down his cheeks now, chest heaving in panic. “Deeby, Deeby, he was gonna–”

“Shut up!”

A kick this time, straight to the back of his spine, and Stan's throat strained hard into the collar before breaking free of Vaughn's grasp and nearly face-planting into cold concrete. He scrambled to get up, but the same foot planted on his back and slammed his chest right back to the floor, grinding the heel of its shoe into the captive’s spine. Stan clutched at the ground, screams barely bit back by force of sheer willpower.

“Christ, man! Stop it, get off!” Deeby yelled with uncharacteristic urgency.

The force pinning him down suddenly released, followed by the scattered footfalls of someone catching themself from nearly falling over. 

Stan just lay there limp. Heaving and shivering. He couldn't move. His limbs felt like heavyweights, the world tilted on it’s axis, and he was sure that if he lifted his head up, he would lose every last morsel of that protein bar he'd shoved down earlier.

But at least now no one was methodically turning him into a fine red mist anymore. 

Deeby stood between the two of them like an impenetrable stone wall, hand resting on the unlatched holster of his gun and pointedly ignoring Vaughn’s stuttering disbelief as he patted at the pockets of his jacket, pulling various probably very sharp things out and shoving them into his pants pockets.

Protecting him.

“You– You just–...” Vaughn finally composed himself. “You pushed me off! You're saving him? He needs to be taught a lesson!”

Stan tried to push up despite the dizziness. “Only–... D-Deeby, he was trying–”

“Shut up, Stan, I know, let me handle it! Here.” Deeby slid his jacket off and dropped it practically on top of his captive’s head, never once letting his gaze slip from Vaughn. Stan shakily pulled the brown leather of the jacket over his shoulders before he had time to think better of it, doing his best to just enjoy the show and not think about the implications of what was currently happening.

 “Because he wouldn't let you put your dick in him without a fight, right?” The bounty hunter said sarcastically. “Or– or– or because he wasn’t gonna let you mouth-gore him without complaint? Let you ‘teach him a lesson?’ Yeah, I am stopping you. Piece of shit.” The bounty hunter grabbed the scissors off the floor where they landed when Vaughn dropped them after the gunshot. Then he used them to point sharply at the door. 

“Get out.”

Vaughn scoffed and melodramatically rolled his eyes.

“You got the message from Lana then? Is that why you're acting like such a belligerent wittle babeee?” Vaughn posited in his most obnoxious baby voice.

Deeby bristled. Stan could've sworn for a moment he could see the man shaking. 

“Yes,” he said, slowly. “I talked to Lana. Your useless job is done. You can go back to being an even more useless sidepiece now.”

Vaughn’s shoulders tensed, and he laughed.

“Good! And I’ll make sure to tell Lana all about you taking the side of the disobedient dog of a test subject–”

“Yeah, go cry to your girlfriend about it, he's under my jurisdiction and I'm not gonna let you fuck that up because you feel the need to live out your perverse power fantasy with the helpless people you kidnap and torture. As if it isn’t torture enough to have to be in the same room with you at all.”

Vaughn clenched his fists at his side and forced on the worst imitation of a smile Stan had ever borne witness to.

“You better watch your tone, Deathberry,” he said, sickly sweet voice doing nothing to mask the hissing rage. “I could have you in the same spot as him in ten seconds. Don't ever–” he jabbed Deeby in the chest. “–forget that. You're only allowed to be out here roaming around with your fancy gun and your fancy cowboy boots because you're useful, otherwise you'd be locked up with the rest–”

Vaughn had just started to reach for the holster on Deeby's belt when, faster than Stan could perceive, a flurry of movement between the two men, a cry of surprised fear, the shuffling of feet and spinning of bodies and suddenly Vaughn was pinned back first to Deeby's chest, a wire that Deeby pulled from somewhere stretched taut between his fists and pressing a hard line directly under into the skin of Vaughn's throat.

Vaughn's hands quickly flew up to the wire to try and pull it off his throat, then just as quickly let go when he realized the wire would sooner cut through his hands before it would be pried off.

Stan couldn't help but stare.

“You're just about at the end of my rope, Verhulst,” Deeby growled, accent fully presiding now as he stepped backward and pulled Vaughn toward the door. “Don't you ever put your filthy hands on my gun.”

A slight rasp to Vaughn's voice was the only thing that denoted anything was amiss. “You sure this is about the gun, Deebs? Sure you're not taking your frustrations at Lana out on me?” 

“Trust me, if I was takin’ my frustrations at Lana out on you, bud, you'd be dead.”

Vaughn's eyes shot to Stan, and his smile broadened. 

“Ohhhh, I see. So what then, you are falling for the captive? I'm sure Lana would love to hear about how you're going soft, how you miss her, and how spectacularly you're failing at finding someone better so you have to–”

A small gurk finding its way from Vaughn's throat as he was pulled to a sudden stop.

“You know what, maybe I am. And maybe you should use your mouth to do something not completely useless for once.” He spun the both of them around to face Stan again. 

“Apologize to ‘im.”

What?

Vaughn stared at Stan, apparently more stunned by the notion of apologizing than the motion of having a garot wire to his throat. Stan… honestly had to agree.

“Come again?”

“Apologize to Stan. For tryin’ to rape him. It's the least you could do.”

“You want me to… apologize?? To the test subject? You really are losing it, Deathberry, let me go.”

The wire dug into his throat more. “Say sorry, doctor.”

Vaughn glared at Stan. Stan glared back as well as he could.

“I can't feel the pain of this, you know,” Vaughn's voice came, even raspier. “You're not doing anything.”

“You can still bleed out from a slit throat. Still drown to death in your own blood as it slowly fills your lungs,” Deeby dismissed lightly. “Still bleed out. Very quickly. I wonder what would happen if I hit your carotid–

“And I wonder how Lana would feel about you slitting her head scientist and boyfriend’s throat.”

“Probably call you a little bitch boy for invoking her name every time you need to defend yourself like a spoiled toddler ‘steada bein’ a man about it and defending yourself. Or maybe not. You’d never know, you’d be dead.”

“You wouldn't–”

Deeby twitched the wire across Vaughn's throat and a line of red bloomed across the light tan of his neck. Vaughn's face grew just a little bit paler. He brought his hands up to graze across the wire and felt the warm wetness smear across his fingertips.

“Apologize.” Deeby growled. “Now.”

Vaughn's eyes flitted back to Stan, fully appraising the wonderfully wide-eyed mess he'd had pinned against the wall only moments before. 

He narrowed his eyes. 

Took a deep breath. 

Stared daggers directly into Stan's soul.

“Sorry.”

Oh you bastard.

“Go jump off a cliff!” Stan yelled, erratically reaching into the jacket pocket he'd seen Deeby pull the protein bar out of earlier and luckily finding many more, one of which was immediately thrown directly at Vaughn. He couldn't even attempt to dodge it, and it hit him directly in the chest. 

The mercenary let out a singular loud laugh and spun Vaughn back around, letting the wire retract into what Stan now realized was a little housing box on his weird arm sleeve thing and shoving Vaughn at the door as hard as he could.

“Guess he doesn't forgive you. Better luck next time!” he laughed. Stan genuinely thought (and hoped) Sweater-vest would fall flat on his face, but he managed to grab the door and right himself before that happened. Shame.

“Now get out.” Deeby said.

Vaughn glared with a literal snarl, jaw half a second away from cracking in two. Right before he took a slow, deep breath and reset his features to a forced neutral. Then an easy smile. “As you wish, my liege.” 

He bowed exaggeratedly low in a show of mock respect, retrieving his scissors from the ground in a surprisingly graceful sweeping motion as he went. Deeby just rolled his eyes.

“Oh, and Stanny?” He drawled, peeking back from the door as he left and pointing his scissors directly at Stan's face with a flourish. “I look forward to seeing you soon~.” 

“Get outta here!” Deeby yelled with a threatening stomp toward the door, at the same time Stan stuttered out a very surprised and agitated “In hell!”

The door slammed shut. 

Stan could swear he could still hear Vaughn's deranged laugh echoing through the room even as an eerie silence fell over them.

He was finally gone. Finally.

See you soon.

He didn't completely understand why his breath continued to quicken. He'd won that encounter, right? Or… well, Deeby had. But still.

I look forward to seeing you soon.

He felt dizzy. More than the concussion could have caused. This was different, made him feel like he was suffocating, even though Vaughn was no longer here to strain the collar against his throat. Yet he could still feel the knuckles digging into the back of his neck.

I look forward to seeing you soon. In hell.

* * * * * * * *

Next

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy | @pirefyrelight | @cakeinthevoid | @painsandconfusion | @books-are-everything | @paperprinxe

[deepdisireslonging]

Surrender

Pairing: Ricky Starks x Reader

Warnings/Promises: Angst, canon-level violence

Word Count: 850

Note: Doing a bit of a character study for a larger work thats about to come out. In the words of the Dread Pirate Roberts: "To the Pain" ->

The roar of the crowd echoed in your head like a pack of wolves baying for blood. Just feet from you, caged in by ring ropes and across a desert of canvas, the love of your life battled for you.

Already you could see the bruises forming on his skin. The bright welt across his chest from the slaps. The dark gelatinous forms around his ribs from punches and kicks. But what worried you the most was how Joe’s elbows were hungry to catch Ricky’s throat. If he did that, it would end the match.

Every so often, Joe glanced your way. The match progressed, and Ricky’s offense moved slower and slower. And Joe’s face slid with ease into a smug grin as the end glared inevitable.

“I need to ask you something.” You twisted the traitorous cloth around your fingers. Small enough to hide from Ricky on your way down to the match. Large enough to weigh like a boulder of guilt in your pocket. You swallowed as Britt waited for you to continue. “What do you do? When Adam is going to far; when you both know he won’t return to you in one piece?”

She tasted several answers on her tongue before answering. “You be there for him. Stand there. Watch the pain, feel it burn in your lungs. And you give it back to him as a strength that will motivate him either to the finish or the end. But my experiences… they’re not like what you’re going to have to endure. I’m sorry I can’t be more help.”

“That’s alright. Thank you.”

The ring shook as Ricky bounced off the ropes, hurtling towards his target. His eyes gleamed with focus and determination. Despite what advice Britt had given you, the cheers and praise you wanted to give him died on your lips. Mostly you could manage a smile when he looked your way. One that he would return. And then shift back to the matter at hand.

Still, your lungs quaked.

If he won: he was number one contender. If he tapped out: Joe was number one contender. And you would work for him instead. No pinfall. No count-outs. No disqualifications. Submission only.

You knew him. His match with Danielson was before you joined the roster as Ricky’s valet. And before the feelings developed. You hated how you longed for his touch after matches now. Wanting to feel and know that he was okay like you had never needed before. Ricky wouldn’t tap. He had passed out instead of tapping to Danielson’s brutal victory. The recovery period had, apparently, been more brutal than what the cameras revealed.

Would you be able to survive them with him?

Would the potential championship be worth it?

Then, your nightmare came to fruition.

Joe’s grip caught Ricky’s wrist. With a quick tug, your love was in his arms. Joe turned so you could see his face contort, so you could see him gasp for air. And behind him, like a grinning gargoyle ready to spill a waterfall of brimstone on your dreams, Joe watched you. He waited. Listened. Patiently paused his malice to see what you would do.

“Here.” Joe drifted out of the shadows and handed you a small square of white. “He’s going to need it.”

The fabric seemed to burn your hands. But Joe refused to take it back.

“We both know him. You better than most. He won’t tap. To keep you near he’d rather hold hot coals than let me borrow you.” He stepped near, trapping you against the wall. “I won’t need you long. I promise. Once the title’s mine, you can go back to him. But he’s in my way of getting my title back. If he wants to have a bit of a rematch after I hold gold, he’s welcome to it. Until then,” he nodded at the cloth, “think about it. And what’s best for him.”

Biting your bottom lip, you dragged the surrender out of your pocket.

Ricky’s eyes, already drooping shut from wont of oxygen, widened. He did his best to shake his head. Holding out his hand, he rasped, “reach for me.”

Your hand slid between the ropes. Though your fingertips would never be able to touch, maybe your closer proximity could help him find a way out?

The grip tightened around his throat, and Joe fell to one side. His leg pinned down Ricky’s flailing limbs.

You watched the glow fade from his eyes. His gaze, glazed and empty, never moved from where he knew you to be. But his lips were already taking on a purple hue.

Joe nodded at the square in your hands.

Against your will, it dragged your hand up to the bottom rope, draping the white fabric where everyone could see it.

“No! Y/N, I’ll-” Ricky coughed, forcing a smidgen of oxygen into his lungs. “I’ll be alright. Don’t.”

Without sound, you whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Y/N!”

Before you could think about it, your knees bit into the apron and you caught the attention of the referee. Eyes brimming with tears, you tossed in the towel, ending the match.

[xkaidaxxxx]

A person worth loving

Body shaming, foul actions and language, suicidal thoughts, rape, fluffy, Happy Ending( don’t worry)

Sorry for any errors 3am writing sorry

TRIGGER WARNING

Gojo Satoru is your teacher since you started jujutsu high school. Since it was a small school it was easy to teach everyone based off their year with different curriculums.

Being in a small school meant some people know your secrets before you do. Inumaki is your boyfriend. How did that happen….one day you fell into his trap. He managed to get you into skipping school. You had fun the entire day with him..until midnight hit. He walked you back to your dorm somewhat forced himself in. You guys talked about random things, you knew Inumaki was a rebel but not like this. He handed you a joint. “ Come on pretty girl. You’ll feel amazing.” He said. You were so Innocent. New into the dating world. You let yourself let go. Those type of days went on for weeks. He was constantly flirting,gifting you things, being a good guy, when in reality it was part of his plan. His plan on making a VIRGIN chubby girl fall in love and taking her innocence. He knew you’d be so easy to fool. Maki is your best friend. She warned you constantly. “I’m telling you because I care. You’re not only my best friend…you’re like my sister.” You rolled your eyes,” Inumaki is an amazing person Maki. He’s sweet and kind. He’d never do anything to hurt me. We’re going on a date. I’m so excited!” You said giggling. Inumaki walked into your room scanning your body. He was grossed out. In his eyes you were nothing but fat walking around. “ You look wonderful but you need to lose weight. Your stomach rolls when you sit down. Come on let’s go.”

As time passed by you stopped talking to Maki…“ Inumaki stop..h-hey no stop it.” You said struggling to get out of his grip. “ Oh come on we’ve been dating for almost 6 months. It’s about time we have sex.” He said smirking. He forced your shorts and panties off. “ I bet your pussy is so tight.” Tears slipped. “ S-stop Inu! I’m not ready…ho-“ you couldn’t finish. You felt him deep inside. He didn’t prep you. He slammed in not caring about you at all. You felt sharp pain as he thrusted in and out. You kicked a lot but eventually felt defeated and stopped. “ fu-fuck baby so good.” He groaned. You felt a sting on your face. He slapped you harshly. “ You’re taking me so well…good girl. Not making me struggle anymore. Oh come on give me a smile.” He spoke continued to roam your body. Time passed. “ Well Happy anniversary.” He winked changing and left. You laid there. Blood covering your thighs. Face red from the slap. His handprint on your neck. You cried all night remembering all the times Maki warned you.The follow days were horrible. Gojo noticed your change in clothing style. You wore jeans instead of shorts,kept your hair down, wearing thin long sleeves shirts.“ You completely changed your style y/n. Love the dark colors.” He said moving close to you. You smiled. Genuine smile. “There’s that cute smile. We can have lunch together. My treat.” He said smiling. Gojo had a feeling that your relationship with Inumaki was hell. A shit show. He noticed how you moved. Getting up you’d wince. The way you walked sometimes you’d stumble. Inumaki was waiting for you at the door with his evil eyes. You got scared. “N-no thanks sir. I always have lunch with Inumaki.” You replied grabbing your bento box. “ You should tell him you want to eat alone or with old friends next time.” Gojo said with a serious face and tone. You laughed it off and left with Inu.

“Stop eating so much. That’s why you’re fat. Clothes look bad on you. Skip meals.” He judged as you ate. “You’re right.” You replied closing your bento box. “Good. Ignore your hunger.” You stayed silent as he ate. “Are you bleeding? Ugh you stained the floor. Are you on your period?” He asked. You cut your thighs and wrists. “No. I fell yesterday and landed wrong.” You replied cleaning the stain you left behind on the ground. “Don’t talk to me that way. This is your only warning.” He replied in a stern voice. “It won’t happen again.” You held your tears back following him back to class. “ Everyone settle down. 1st years math exam then 30minutes of training. 2nd years training time. Outside now. Don’t go crazy. 3rd years it’s exam time. All subjects.” He spoke handing out the exams to the 1st and 3rd years. You finished your science questions first then reading and math then English. As you circled a question you felt your pants soaking the blood. Your eyes widened. “Y/n is everything okay?” Gojo asked standing beside you. You flinched. “Y-yeah chilly for me today.” You replied. He took his jacket off placing it around your shoulders. You couldn’t help but blush. It made you happy. “Thank you sir.” You quickly put it on. You were chubby so you did struggle a bit to zip it up. He noted to buy a size or two up that way you could wear his clothes. One day at least. You’re 18. Legal but one day you’d wear his clothes.

You were the last to finish your exam. Everyone left the room. “You’re still here? Is everything alright?” Gojo asked watching you. You had to play this carefully. “ I um...I’m stained.” You confessed. He realized what you meant. “You got your period.” He asked. Normal guys would get grossed out. He didn’t. He’s totally cool about it. “Yes.” “Now stand. I’ll clean the chair. Wrap my jacket around your waist. It’ll cover the stain. I’ll walk you to your dorm.” He said. You stood up and he did exactly what he said. Cleaned it with alcohol and alcohol wipes. You felt sad you had to lie. Once you both reached your dorm you thanked him. “Alright shower and stay warm. If the cramps kick in hard I can go buy you Midol.” You smiled. Gojo is a man you wish you had. Not an abusive guy. “Thanks sir.” You both exchanged numbers. He left. You saw Inumaki “It’s about time I teach you a lesson.” You whimpered. Big Mistake bringing Gojo to your dorm and exchanging numbers.

One weekend you told Inu you’d visit your parents. You lied. “Hey beautiful.” Gojo said. “Hi handsome .” “Today I’m spoiling you. Get whatever you want. I mean whatever.” He said walking into the first store. He followed you as you looked around. A pair of navy blue platforms caught your attention. You saw the price 230 dollars. You quickly lost interest. Gojo called a worker over. “Ma’am may you get these shoes in a size 7.5” he smiled. The lady nodded and left. “They’re expensive.” “anything for you darling” he said. “Here you go sir.” The lady said handing the shoes over. “Thank you madam.” You smiled as you tried the shoes on. At the check out he paid 957 dollars. He held the bags. Walking to another store you saw a bag you’ve been wanting. “Grab it baby with the matching wallet too.” You thought-he did say anything..- once it was charged you were in heaven. Best 660 he’s spent to see you happy. Hours passed“Mhm baby here’s your new phone and laptop. You needed an upgrade.” Your jaw dropped. This one was over the top. Almost 1,999 for the laptop and the phone each.Girls noticed the amount of bags you had. They whispered that you’re having sex with him to buy you things. “Don’t listen. You’re my girl.” He said kissing you. You returned it. “Now is there anything you want or need?” “Feminine products and g-groceries.” You replied embarrassed. Hours passed. You set your things down. He helped placing the clothes away. You finished the process of transferring info to your new phone and laptop. “Hey Maki said yo” Inu held his anger back. “We’ll call later Kay.” You said to Gojo and he left worried. Beating time.

You noticed Gojo did little things that made your day. He did flirt a lot but you loved it. It was hard to date him well you were with Inu and he’s your teacher. You noticed more happiness when being with him throughout the day. Although you knew Inu was watching. Knowing you’d learn a lesson everyday. It was worth it. Gojo was everything and more to you. He always makes you smile. Always giving you his heart.

It was now 8 months together with Inu…he made you take him every week. Whether you liked it or not. “ You piece of shit! Go to hell!” You yelled crying as he hit you. Inu was fully clothed however was very eager to take it all off. He wanted to teach you a lesson first. You were beyond lucky he never dared to use his technique on you. Your teacher was on a night stroll. He heard your yelling from your dorm. “I knew it. That asshole.” He whispered. Gojo didn’t hesitate to run over and break down your door. You were naked, bent over your desk. Hand prints, bruises and bites everywhere. His heart stopped for a moment. Rage took over his mind. You got away from Inumaki coving yourself with a blanket. You witnessed Gojo beating him. Blood on his hands. You let him beat Inumaki. He deserved it. They bumped into things in the room. Your desk, the night bedside table, the body mirror. It got way out of hand. You were scared. “911. Y-yes that’s it.Move y/n. I’ve got this.” You spoke grabbing your phone. A few minutes passed. Cops and ambulances surround the area. Gojo gave the final punch knocking Inumaki out. He walked over to you staying at a distance. “M-may I hold you?” He asked. You rushed into his arms holding the blanket around yourself. “ Y-you’re safe now.” Gojo held you carefully. “ Arms above your head. Now!” One of the 4 cops yelled. Reading the room wrong. One loaded his gun. “N-No stop. He saved me. Don’t sh-shoot. S-stop. Stop it. No No don’t hit me. Don’t hurt me. Stop.” You spoke.They triggered your fears. “ Put the guns down. She’s scared. Do you have any idea what shes been through?” Gojo said holding you close. Not wanting to let you go. Paramedics walked in helping Gojo lay you on the bed. “You’re going to be okay sweetie. What’s your name?” The lady asked. Your mind was fuzzy. “ My name..y/n l/n. Gojo.” You looked around as they secured the bed on the ambulance. “Where is he?” You asked. “ Calm down. You need to relax.” You hit the paramedic who was only trying to check your vitals. “S-stop stay away!Gojo! Help me! Make them go away! Gojo!!” You yelled scared. You’re triggered. It’s an okay response. Gojo ran over getting on the ambulance. He didn’t get to finish his statement to the cops. “I’m here. You’re good. Relax. Let them do their job. They’re making sure you’re okay.” He held your hand. Instantly you relaxed.

Hours later Gojo finished his police report and stayed with you at the hospital. “ s-so..what are you looking for?” Gojo asked the doctor and nurses.“ Since you’re not a parent nor guardian we are not allowed to release information about the patient. “ We have to ask you to leave the room.” Shoko spoke. The cops, male nurses and Gojo left the room. Shoko quickly took her phone out messaging Gojo about what’s going to happen. “ Sweetheart. We have to examine you okay…see if you’re healthy down there.” You looked at the nurses, “I need him here.” Shoko brought him inside. “Y/n?” He reached through the curtain. Finding your hand. Your fingers intertwined. You both relaxed. You winced. You knew they’d have to check for STDs or any vaginal issues. Once that finished. They lifted the gown further up. Applying gel on your lower stomach. “Y-you’re kidding right? There’s no way!” You yelled. “Y/n? Shh it’s alright. I can’t pass the curtain. Privacy you know.” He spoke. As they moved the stick around. Nothing was found. You were so relieved.

Medical proof of sexual abuse was given. Inumaki was locked up behind bars for many years to come.

A year passed. 19yrs old. You graduated and now you’re a full fledged sorcerer!

“You look so sexy.” Gojo said hugging you from behind. You smiled. “Thank you for buying me the dress. I love it.” You replied. You were finally so confident. All it took was love. “ it compliments your curves. Love handles. Rolls. Your thighs. You’re so sexy.” You couldn’t help but giggle noticing his problem. He groaned. “3rd time today.” “Oh really?” You asked. “Yeah. You rubbed up against me when waking up, then you walked around with only panties and my shirt on. Then this dress.” He complains about it but always fixes his hard in front of you. Shamelessly. You enjoyed watching him. The way he throws his head back moaning. His dick twitching. The way he teases himself by stroking himself fast then slow. You even touched yourself too. Showing each other how you masturbate. You both didn’t want to go farther than that. You both promised to take it slow. “Don’t go. I need to see you.” He spoke stroking himself fast. He’s sensitive. You blushed sitting down. “please cum for me Satoru.” You said in a soft voice and that’s all it took. Cum spurted onto his hand. “I love you in many ways y/n” he said. You grabbed his hand and licked it clean. “Y-You don’t have to..we’ve only started dating 5 months ago and started our sexual relations last month. Don’t force yourself.” He said putting his boxers and jeans back on. “I wanted to try it. It tastes good actually” you confessed, cheeks blushed. Gojo held you close. “I’m in love with you.” Both said in unison. Laugher bounced off the walls. Love in the air. As you cuddled on the couch you both said fuck going out. In each other’s arms is all you wanted to do. Cuddle up and sleep,

[yelenghs]

(fem!reader, bully!reader, nerd!armin) (also armin wears glasses in this)

btw note 2 those of u who choose to interact; i am a minor.

nerd! armin who's had enough of you bullying and picking on him all school year!

now that you two have been assigned a project together, he can finally get a chance to get payback. you always thought of his as one thing; a loser. in your mind, he was nothing but someone to step on and walk all over. a doormat you can use to get good grades. but you always manage to forget just how smart he is.

without even knowing it, he'd slowly manipulate and gaslight you into a secluded area. claiming; 'it's more quiet over here! it will be easier to focus'. and as much as you'd try and go the other direction, the way to the library, he keeps on 'correcting' you. saying 'no, no! have you forgotten? the library is in this direction. well, i wouldnt be surprised if you did. especially with those grades of yours..'

eventually, he lead you to one of the storage rooms, in an area of the school that was barely ever used. "armin.. this isnt the library. what, are you playing dumb now? is that it- AH!" you were pulled into the cloest by your pink cropped jacket.

"armin, what the fuck!? what the hell is wrong with you!?" you shouted at him, shoving him back into the door. you tried to tower over him, attempting to intimidate him. yet, with strength you didnt even know he had, he quickly flipped the switch. he grabbed your wrists backed up into you, cornering you into one of the shelves.

"g-get on your knees.. if you know what's good for you." of course, you scoffed and rolled your eyes. "what do you mean 'if you know what's good for you'? i know exactly what's good for me and it's clearly not this. now let me go, foureyes, or i'll snatch those right off your face." you threatened. he knew you wouldnt do it, not when youre working together on this.

"you really are a dumb bitch." he retorted and you gasped in offense. before you could even speak, he kicked your right ankle; knocking you off balance. you fell to the floor, now face to face with his crotch. "you-!"

he pushed your head into his crotch, grinding against your mouth. "you dont even realize, this project is fifty percent of your grade. do you even understand what kind of i could get you in? i could get you suspended, or even expelled. professor levi assigned me with you in hopes you'd learn something from me." he unzipped his jeans, fishing his dick out of his boxers.

he laid it across your face, and your nose scrunched just from the scent of it. "but he didnt tell me exactly what he wanted me to teach you. maybe how to suck dick? or even please a man? who knows. but, you're too stupid to understand this assignment, so i'll do everything. in exchange you'll be my little play thing until im finished."

he tugged you back by your hair, his other hand stroking himself to how vulnerable you look right now. he pressed his tip to your lips, smearing his precum on them. "oh, and did i mention? we have two weeks to finish. and i'll take my precious time.."

with tears in your eyes, both from the pain in your ankle and the humiliation, you opened your mouth and submitted to him. immediately, he started to softly thrust his hips.

your mind was running laps. what if he tells the others? what if someone finds out? will he tell the professor anyways? you gave up trying to fight back, instead taking his surprisingly girthy, large dick in your mouth.

[bagerfluff]

Revenge

Around two days later Villain woke up. As they opened their eyes they saw that they were in a bright room and for a minute thought they were in heaven, until they heard a door open. They tried to get up but a sharp pain in their stomach made them cry and fall on their back.

Hero quickly put the cup of water they were holding on the bed side table and kneeled next to the Villain. “You okay?” The Hero asked his hurt enemy. “What do you think” the villain sneered back and despite the fact that the Villain was in pain the fact that they made that comment made the Hero smile.

“Here” The Hero said while handing the Villain the glass of water. The Villain tried to sit up again but that just caused them to fall again making a grunt. The Hero quickly sprang into action and helped the Villain sit up with some pillows.

After the Villain was successfully sitting up the Villain drank the water with the help of the Hero since the Villain hurt their arm as well as one of their legs and obviously their stomach. After that the Villain says that they were tired but before they fell asleep the Hero made sure to ask who did this.

“Vigilante”

The Villain said right before they left to dream land. The Hero felt that anger they felt when they first found the Villain rising back up. They had done some missions with that Vigilante before and realized that do stuff for money but the Hero was about show them that actions have consequences.

The Hero quickly put on their suit and left their house looking for the Vigilante. They found them sitting on a roof ledge after one whole three hours of looking, but it would be worth it. “Hey Vigilante” The Vigilante turned to look at the Hero.

“Hey Hero, need something?” The Vigilante asked while getting up “yeah” The Hero said in that same dark tone “revenge”. The Hero punched the Vigilante in the face. Making the Vigilante stumble back. “What the Hell!” The Vigilante yelled.

The Hero didn’t say anything as they punched the Vigilante again. And again, and again. No matter how many times the Vigilante tried to doge or hit back the Hero would manage to hit them or doge. But after the Hero lost energy it turned into a proper fight.

A balanced fight. A punch there. A kick there. A doge there. It was a bloody brutal fight. But eventually The Vigilante decided that to continue fighting would be a death wish. They had fought with and against the Hero multiple times but they had never seen them fight so.

Coldly.

Like a Villain.

After the Vigilante left the Hero started to head home. Bloody. As the Hero entered their home they saw the Villain sitting on their couch watching the news. That made them smile.

The Villain also looked up at the door when they heard it open and was slightly shocked at what they saw. The Hero’s suit was all cut up and they were bloody. They had a broken nose, bloody knuckles, and cuts all over them.

“Hero!” The Villain yelled and tried to get up again but just fell on the couch with a grimace on their face. “I’m fine” the Hero said as they left to grab their first aid kit from the bedroom.

As they returned they took off their clothes, sat on the couch, and tried to patch themselves up. But before they could, the Villain grabbed everything and started to do it for the Hero. “Let me” the Villain said in a soft tone that had never heard before and as they started to wipe the blood off the Hero’s nose.

After the blood was wiped off their nose the Villain moved to wipe blood off the Hero’s body but before they could the Hero grabbed the Villain’s wrist and looked them in the eye. “Why are you helping me?”. The Hero asked but all the Villain did was roll their eyes and talk in the tone that the Hero was used to.

“Because “ the Villain yanked their arm out of the Villain’s hold. “It’s the least I can do” The Villain moved to continue to wipe the blood away. “You helped me and surprisingly I do have empathy Hero”. The Villain finished cleaning the Hero and put the dirty wipes in the trash and started to put the bandages on them. 

The Hero scoffed “No you don’t, not for everyone at least” The Hero looked down “Well the Villain said as they put the bandages away and pulled the Hero on their chest. The Hero blushed at this and tried to get out the Villain wasn't having that. The Villain then spoke their next words in a mix of teasing and caring.

“Only for you”.

Thank you to every one who asked for a part to and hope you enjoy :)