#because it’s so stupid and a cop-out that it’s funny

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

I find it a little annoying when it’s obvious that creators can’t make jokes without fanbases claiming it as “canon” immediately and forever.

Like if I were to make a story about some guy name Greg who works at a desk job or something, and then I make a joke on social media that’s like “oh yeah, haha, Greg also religiously worships Danny Gonzales” and then every time someone doesn’t draw Greg with a shine for Danny on is desk in fanart, they get flooded with comments saying “um actually 🤓☝️…” and everyone goes around saying it’s canon that Greg worships Danny as his lord and savior and goes to Danny church every Monday. Like. No. That was obviously a joke.

[marklikely]

cishet men have convinced me that im wrong about movies but like do they understand that the reservoir dogs are. big idiot losers

[dirt-str1der]

Two of the most popular kazumaji fics are roommate ones i just realised. It seems to be a good situation to put them in for their relationship to flourish , so the majima stan twitter / kiryu afraid of getting doxxed (he can be on the run from cops) post can come true

[scientia-rex]

I feel like disappointment in Biden is baffling to me because he was always a disappointment. He was the asshole who got to ride to power on the coattails of a better man. He told bizarre and repeated lies (despite getting caught at it and his team telling him not to) about having a Welsh coal miner dad when he did not and he stole that story from actual Welsh people. I read a profile of him years back that pointed this out and told the story of the time he straight up ignored good advice from an expert not to plant a certain kind of tree too close together and flew a bunch of them out to plant, at night because he was just too fucking excited about it, and they all died. He’s not a smart man! He’s charismatic ish and lacks principles and as far as I can tell doesn’t really care about abortion rights or a lot of things we’d consider pretty critical to preserving freedom. I sincerely thought he couldn’t become President because there were so many obviously better candidates in the pool. I underestimated the sexism and antisemitism in American politics, and when he became the candidate in 2020 I gritted my teeth and voted for him because the alternative was a man who is not only an idiot but also profoundly dangerous. Trump is not ha-ha crazy, he’s Mussolini crazy. He is not dangerous because he’s stupid, although that doesn’t help; he’s dangerous because he does not care about anyone except himself under any circumstances and if that means he lets the far right push us straight into forced birth for white women and sterilization for women of color he’s going to do that. If that means conversion therapy for queers and death penalty for homosexual acts he’s going to do that. He has literally no limits. If he gets back into power, a whole lot of people are going to die, again. It’s not a hypothetical because it happened the first time and he’s only going to get worse.

I am not, never have been, and never will be a fan of Biden. To pretend that he and Trump are in any way equivalent is wrong at best and another goddamn Russian psy-op at worst. To pretend that a third party candidacy is viable in the US is to completely ignore every election of your lifetime and your parents’ lifetimes, and to further ignore the lesson of Ross Perot.

You cannot save Palestinians by not voting for Biden in November; the best you can do is chip away at his margin, and the worst you can do is see Trump elected so he can decide to do the worst possible thing in ever circumstance. Biden has Palestinian blood on his hands and watching this when we could have had Bernie or Elizabeth Warren instead is maddening. (I would have preferred Hillary to Trump, but I don’t think she’d be any different than Biden here. They’re both old-school politicians.)

I hate everything about this, and I hate that saying “maybe don’t put the man who literally said he would kill his political enemies in power” is seen as supporting genocide. It’s acknowledging reality. Joe Biden as a person can eat rocks for all I care. I was kind of hoping he’d die sooner in his term so we’d have time to get used to and then vote for President Harris. (Remember when the line was “she’s a cop, don’t vote for her”? Funny how there’s always a reason not to vote for a woman or a person of color or someone you just “don’t like” and can’t put a finger on why except she “seems angry.” Oh does she. How would she not? When Michelle fucking Obama, the picture of grace , STILL got called angry for having the nerve to be a Black woman with an opinion? When Hillary Clinton lost to a man with no political experience to her decades and who openly discussed sexually assaulting women? Would you have voted for President Harris? Or would you let Trump win again because you don’t LIKE her personally and she’s made decisions and statements you disagree with?)

Biden has both less power than his critics give him credit for and more power than his fans give him credit for. He needs to do more to pressure Israel and although it’s a delicate diplomatic situation I’d rather see us fuck up our diplomatic relationship with Israel than watch more Palestinians get murdered for things like “wanting to eat” and “existing.” The line has been crossed, and he doesn’t see it. Because he wasn’t the best person for the job. Because they didn’t get elected, because of sexism/antisemitism/racism. Hell, I have no idea what bootlicker Pete Buttegieg would have done here, but I’d have given him a try. But no. We got Biden and we’re stuck with this reality where you can be as leftist as you want and still have to look at the situation and decide whether you’re comfortable contributing to a Trump victory through inaction. I want socialism—I want every single person on Earth to have clean drinking water, enough safe food, shelter, medical care, and education—and I’m going to vote for Biden, pissy as it makes me, because the only actual alternative is so, so much worse, for me personally as both a woman and a queer, and for everyone in America and the rest of the world who Trump would find reasons to hurt. What do you think the man who openly and repeatedly praises dictators is going to do when those dictators massacre their own people? Yes, we need to care about this genocide now. We also need to care about all of the other people who are at real risk, both at home and abroad. Would a Trump government agree to fund military intervention in Haiti without insisting on it being a colonial exercise in power? Would a Trump government roll back the restrictions on discriminating against transgender patients in healthcare? How would Trump respond if Orban started dragging people into the streets and shooting them en masse? How would Trump respond if China finally went for it and invaded Taiwan? There are more lives at stake here than mine or yours or even those of the Palestinians, who have deserved better for literally decades and are being mass killed in ways that should result in immediate sanctions, a war crimes trial, and the execution of Netanyahu.

The world deserves better from you than complicity in a Trump victory.

[rcsewcrld]

marauders x y/n incorrect quotes

making these funny is my forte

feat. james, sirius, remus, barty (jr), reggie, lily, marlene

—

y/n: You know, remus gives sirius flowers everyday, I wish you'd do that too.  james: Okay.  *Later*  james: *gives sirius flowers*  sirius: ???  james: I don't know, I'm confused as well.

y/n, pointing to james and remus: Distract them! I'll be right back! *leaves*  sirius: Okay!  *five minutes later*  y/n: *returns and sees james and remus unconscious on the ground* What did you do? I said distract them, not knock them out!  sirius: There's just no pleasing you sometimes.

remus: Why do you look like that?  y/n, laying face-first on the floor: Like what?  remus: Like you’re dead.  y/n: It’s because I’m dying. Leave me here to perish.  sirius: y/n accidentally called james “babe” in front of everyone today.  y/n: *sobs into the floor*

remus: Time sensitive question how flirt boy.  y/n: Throw rocks at he.  james: Hot Dogs.  sirius: Kill him.  remus: Thanks guys.

james: Why is y/n crying on the floor?  remus: She took one of those 'what person are you?' quizzes.  james: And?  remus: She got sirius.

y/n: This food is too hot... I cant eat it.  near full moon!remus: You’re very hot, and I still eat you.  Everyone at the table: *silence*  james: YOU GUYS ARE DISGUSTING!  sirius: One dinner... I just want ONE DINNER!

remus: Subs are so fun to play with. All you have to do is hint at what you might do, back them into a corner with a look, or grab their wrist in a certain way and they're a wide-eyed mess.  y/n: What the fuck kind of Subway are you going to?  james: Substitute teachers deal with so much shit.  sirius: Guys.

remus: What do you three have to say for yourself?  y/n: sirius: james: Oops?

remus: james... How do I begin to explain james?  y/n: james is flawless.  sirius: I hear his hair's insured for $10,000.  barty: I hear he does car commercials... in Japan.  regulus: One time he punched me in the face... it was awesome.

remus: Croissants: dropped  james: Road: works ahead  y/n: BBQ sauce: on my titties  sirius: Shavacado: fre  barty: Miss Keisha: fuckin dead  regulus:  regulus, grumpy: I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

'Can I copy the homework?'  remus: I can help you with it!  james: Yeah, sure.  y/n: Bold of you to assume I did the homework.  sirius: lol nope.  barty: Wait, we had homework?!?!?!  regulus: *Read 5:55pm*

remus: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat?  james: >:O language  y/n: Yeah watch your fucking language  sirius: OKAY WHO TAUGHT Y/N THE FUCK WORD?  barty: 'The fuck word'.  regulus: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time  y/n: Oh my god he censored it  barty: Say fuck, regulus.  y/n: Do it, regulus. Say fuck.

remus: If you got arrested what would be the charges? james: Theft. y/n: Disturbing the peace. sirius: Aggravated assault. regulus: Arson. barty: All of the above.In that order, probably.

y/n: Why are sirius and james sitting with their backs to each other? remus: They had a fight. y/n: Then why are they holding hands? remus: They get sad when they fight.

remus: You are now one day closer to eating your next plate of nachos. y/n: That's the most hopeful thing I've ever heard. sirius: But what if I die tomorrow and never eat any nachos? james: Then tomorrow is nacho lucky day.

y/n: Is stabbing someone immoral? sirius: Not if they consent to it. james: Depends who you’re stabbing. remus: YES?!?

sirius: You lying, cheating, piece of shit! y/n: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD sirius: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING REMUS WITH ME james, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle. sirius: Shit. remus: Wait, three? Cop: Yeah? y/n: OH MY GOD JAMES FELL OFF!!!

remus, walking into their house: Hello, people who do not live here.  sirius: Hey.  james: Hi.  y/n: Hello.  lily: Hey!  remus: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only!  marlene: We were out of Doritos.

*Squad reactions to being told ‘I love you’*  remus: Thanks fam!  sirius: oh no  james: *cries* I love you too  marlene: Sounds fake but okay  y/n: *A flustered mess*  lily: can i get a refund

y/n: I think we're missing something.  james: Teamwork?  sirius : Cohesion?  remus: A general sense of what we’re doing?

james: *Screams* sirius: *Screams louder to establish dominance* remus : Should we do something? y/n: No, I want to see who wins.

y/n: james, I'm sad. james: *Holds out arms for a hug* It’s going to be okay. sirius : remus, I'm sad. remus, nodding: mood.

[moon1833]

HAIKYUU! BOYFRIEND HEADCANNONS

Karasuno Edition

DAICHI

Classmates to lovers!

Secretly super nervous around you before you started dating.

The entire team knew he liked you before you did.

Hinata and Nishinoya would bordline harass you to come to practices and games.

Which resulted in Daichi yelling at them frequently.

Of course you came to the games though (you find him leading the time as really attractive too).

Ends up asking you out after you come to a match that they won (Suga pressured him).

He’s extremely chivalrous, insists on meeting your parents and opens every door for you.

Doesn’t make any moves on the first date because he doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression. (He really wanted to kiss you though).

You kiss him on the cheek after he drops you off.

Catches him completely by surprise.

You have your first kiss right before a game.

He was nervous, and you came to cheer him on.

You called him over to where you were sitting and kissed him.

“Good luck!” You called out as he was leaving, not missing how red his face was.

Tanaka and Noya were loosing their shit.

As a couple, you’re the team parents.

You always tired to help out with his caption duties, you knew it was stressful for him sometimes.

Leads to the team loving you.

Serious good cop/bad cop relationship.

You get Tanaka, Nishinoya and Hinata out of trouble whenever they do something stupid.

He loves you too much so he lets it slide (he can’t say no to you).

SUGAWARA

Love at first sight! (He fell first)

Brain turned to complete mush the first time he saw you.

Was sure he’d never see you again but he didn’t go up to you.

You ended up being Kageyama’s older sibling.

He still was too scared to make any moves.

You noticed him when Karasuno played Seijoh (season 1).

You approached him to tell him he played well, and told your brother he could learn a lot from him. (He blushed).

Kageyama is oblivious to his upperclassmen’s feelings. (Everyone else picked up on it the moment you started talking to him).

You thought him being on the bench but still making an effort to be the loudest person cheering on his team was really attractive.

You started picking up Kageyama from practices after school (you really just wanted to talk to Suga).

You thought you were being obvious about your feelings but the Kageyama facial expression™ is genetic.

His pining was becoming too much for the team to the point where Tanaka thought you were already dating.

Eventually gets to Kageyama.

He’s a little upset that he was the last person to figure it out (that Hinata beat him to it) but besides that he doesn’t care at all.

He thinks it’ll benefit his volleyball career, too, so it’s a win-win for him.

Flat out tells you Sugawara has feelings for you.

Part of you already knew, but you were elated.

Asked him to walk you home one day when there wasn’t practice.

“So, my brother tells me someone on your team had a little crush on me.” You loved seeing him get flustered.

He’s upset because he was in the middle of organizing the perfect way of confessing to you.

You end up at a cafe a little while later talking.

Tanaka and Noya were not so secretly spying on you both. (They took a picture of you guys with the flash on).

You thought it was funny.

Suga wanted to explode.

He walks you home, and you kiss him gently before walking into your house.

Kageyama was grouchy the whole night. (He’ll come around).

Kept PDA very light whenever you were around people.

However he’s super touchy in private.

Like he needs to be in contact with you to some degree at all times.

Always laying on you during movies and falling asleep half way through them.

Stopped having Suga over so much because whenever you did Kageyama would come into your room to talk about volleyball. (And he doesn’t knock)

ASAHI

Opposites attract!

You took interest in him first (he didn’t think someone as pretty as you wouldn’t be intimidated by him).

(You weren’t).

Started with you asking him for help in class.

You were pretty outgoing and spoke to everyone so he was surprised you went out of your way to talk to him.

He’s a complete mess around you.

You thought it was sweet.

You’re making every move if you want anything to happen (but you knew that).

Nearly died when you showed up to one of his games.

Nearly did again when you were gushing about how incredible he played.

Actually died when you asked if you could wear his jersey to the next game.

Died again when you did, the jersey being much too big for you. Seeing you in his clothes distracted him almost the entire time.

You end up telling him you like him one morning nonchalantly in the hallway when he was walking to class with you.

Wasn’t sure if he imagined it with how quick you said it.

“You do know I like you, right?”

“U-uh what?”

He’s nervous around you for months, barely initiating anything until he’s sure he won’t make you uncomfortable by accident.

Likes to lay on your chest while you braid his hair.

Still blushes from casual PDA. (He’s always pleasantly surprised you want to show off your relationship)

You pick fights with anyone who gossips about him being an intimidating guy.

“It’s not him you have to worry about, it’s me. So why don’t you say that to my face.”

He’s desperately trying to defuse the situation, but he loves how you defend him.

NISHINOYA

Childhood friends to lovers!

You’ve known him your whole life, but moved away for a few years in middle school.

You moved back in your second year of high school, reuniting with Noya.

He was different, but exactly the same.

You were adamant to not catch feelings, but you couldn’t help it.

The moment you were in his life again, he stopped obsessing over other girls. He didn’t realize it right away, but he knew he didn’t want you to think he didn’t prioritize you.

Forced you to come to every practice so he could walk you home.

Lines of friendship and something more kept getting blurred.

Randomly grabbing your hand when he’s excited.

Possessive, he gets sad if you don’t pay attention to him for a long time.

Genuinely fights off other guys.

He still doesn’t realize he likes you until Tanaka points it out.

Immediately confesses to you.

Dating him wasn’t much different than being his best friend, only now you were more affectionate.

Constantly napping together.

Brags about you to everyone.

Carries a photo book of you because he couldn’t decide on one picture for his wallet.

TANAKA

Matchmaker gone wrong!

Originally was attempting to set him up with Kiyoko (your best friend), but she wasn’t interested.

You two started getting closer even after you told him you didn’t think their plan was going to work.

Was starting to feel like he was only befriending you to get closer to Kiyoko, but he made a lot of effort to hang out with you.

Realized he was catching feelings for you when he would start to look for you in the crowd after each point he scored.

Did a 180 and went to Kiyoko for advice.

You were a little worried when they started getting closer, but your best friend insisted she had no romantic feelings for him.

Ends up confessing to you after a game. (Kiyoko’s idea).

He kinda screams it at you.

You thought it was cute, you kissed him to shut him up.

Parades you around to the team.

He’s protective, but when guys tell him he did a good job scoring you, he’ll just rant about how lucky he is.

He’s obsessed.

Like, genuinely obsessed with you. He proposed at your graduation. You told him ask you again in five years.

He does.

You say yes.

KAGEYAMA

Enemies to friends to lovers!

You both played volleyball in middle school, and you won “Player of the year” over him.

Rivalry started from there.

The girls team practiced in the same gym as the boys did so you were always trying to outdo each other.

When you’d play each other for practice matches you both would play exceptionally dirty.

Ended up at Karasuno because you got injured.

Became a manager for the boys team since the girls team wasn’t as serious and didn’t have a manager.

Had a small fight on both of your first days because he refused to work as a team.

You two could not get along so for the sake of keeping your job as a manager you just ignored him usually.

One game, a few members of the other team had made a few comments about you.

Conveniently, one of Kageyama’s serves in warmups nailed the guy in the face.

Was the first time he made you laugh.

Thought about it for a week.

Tried to make amends with you by showing he was sorry (he couldn’t say it).

Would ask you for tips on how to connect with his team as well as his form.

Admitted he thought you were a better player than him one night, you told him you most likely wouldn’t be able to play again.

Asked him to play for you, placing your hand on top of his.

He almost kissed you that night but he didn’t know how to and panicked.

You wanted him to.

Ended up tutoring him and Hinata, he started going to you for individual help.

Was worried you’d think he’s stupid.

You thought his focused face was adorable.

You were obviously in your feelings for him, but he was adamant that you wouldn’t like someone who struggles showing his emotions so much.

He didn’t think he’d be good enough for you and that you deserved better.

However, the idea of you with anyone else made him so unbearably mad he started putting effort into becoming what you need.

He struggled, but all you cared about was the effort.

Extremely flustered whenever you showed any kind of appreciation towards him.

Like he completely freezes up if you even hug him.

He warms up to physical affection quickly, he loved it from you, he just didn’t know how to return it.

Always falling asleep on top of you on bus rides.

He snores. Not loudly they’re more like sleeping sounds, but you tell him he snores.

Clingy in private.

Loves holding you but loves being held just as much. (He’ll never admit that, though).

YAMAGUCHI

Best friend’s sibling/secret relationship!

Yamaguchi had a crush on you the second he saw you for the first time when he was over at Tsukishima’s house.

He was sleeping over for the first time, and you were heading to the kitchen for a 1am snack while he was leaving the bathroom.

He knew Tsukishima had a sibling, but he had no idea what you looked like. He had no idea you were that beautiful.

You invited him to the kitchen with you for some food, he obliged because he wanted to talk to you.

You knew he was quiet so you did most of the talking, asking him questions.

“Your freckles are really cute, I wish I had freckles.”

No one had told him that before.

He remembered that for months.

Tsukishima knew something was up right away, but he didn’t say anything to Yamaguchi.

He was more worried about you, so he told you to “leave his friends alone”.

You didn’t

You saw Yamaguchi in school occasionally, always going out of your way to say hi (when Tsukishima wasn’t there).

After beating Shiratorizawa, you texted him congratulations.

You both kept texting from there, then calling.

You started asking him for help with homework, claiming your brother was unhelpful (you knew the work).

You started meeting up at the library, both of you mutually deciding not to tell Tsukishima.

After a few weeks of longing stares and lingering touches, you caved.

He was explaining a math problem to you, you were practically shoulder to shoulder, and he looked so adorable trying to dumb down the equation.

You weren’t thinking, leaning in and placing a gentle kiss to his lips.

You pulled back, apologizing, but Yamaguchi had a shy smile on his face.

“Can you do that again?”

Kept it a secret, only meeting at his house. (His mother understood)

Tsukishima found out after walking in on you both making out while Yamaguchi was sleeping over.

“Do you want ice cream?”

He did not care.

Only told you to stay away from his friends because he didn’t think you liked Yamaguchi.

He trusted you both to be respectful and if things did end to keep it civil.

His only wish was he did not want to hear a thing about you from Yamaguchi.

He loves to cuddle with you.

He’ll initiate a lot more physical affection when you’re by yourselves, but in public he gets too nervous.

Doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable ever.

Also not huge on PDA.

Loves giving you forehead kisses.

Akiteru saw Yamaguchi with a hickey before he knew you were dating and congratulated him.

Akiteru did not know you were dating for months.

That wasn’t intentionally, everyone just forgot to tell him.

Tsukishima gave a legendary best man speech at your wedding.

TSUKISHIMA

Enemies to lovers!

The first day you met Tsukishima, you thought he was annoying and needed to be put in his place.

So, you did.

Any insult he said (whether it was directed at you or not) was retorted by you in seconds.

He didn’t expect that from you (it intoxicated him).

Being friends with Yamaguchi, you were almost always around.

He called you a pest.

You called him a loser.

And so on.

LOTS of tension.

Both of you always glaring (staring) at each other to the point all your friends think you’re together in some shape, way or form.

Both of you could not get the other out of each other’s head.

Both of you think it’s because the other is just so annoying.

Until Tsukishima has a dream about kissing you.

Now that’s all he can think about.

He starts ignoring you because he’s mad at his own feelings and he’s starting to feel like he has no self control around you.

You notice it immediately, he no longer picked on you or teased you at all.

Instead of being relieved like you thought you should be, you’re rather sad.

About a week goes by, and eventually your mutual friends are sick of all the sulking you’re both doing.

Force you to talk to each other.

Ends up in a shouting match.

You call him a coward, and it strikes something in him.

Mid rant, he cuts you off by kissing you.

You kiss him back, finish your argument and go back to kissing him.

“Go out with me?” He mumbles against your lips.

“How chivalrous of you.”

The arguing doesn’t stop now that you’re together, it just leads to other things.

Surprisingly, Tsukishima is extremely emotionally mature when it comes to you.

He doesn’t want to loose you.

You’re his soft spot.

Like it’s so obvious and he almost wants everyone to know it. (He’d never admit it)

Not very possessive unless you’re uncomfortable.

No one was surprised when you got together.

Neither of you are huge on PDA.

Maximum affection you’ll show in public is hand holding.

He uses you as a human armrest occasionally.

“Hates” when you steal his clothes (he leaves them out for you.

You get along well with Akiteru, he loves you.

He’s out like a light if you play with his hair.

Holds you like a stuffed animal to sleep (he can’t sleep any other way).

Surprisingly soft.

Doesn’t say “I love you” for a while, but he does things to show it before he does.

HINATA

Sunshine x sunshine protector!

You grew up as Hinata’s #1 fan.

Helped him with his volleyball skills in middle school and so on.

You were always be his side and it was the same with him.

You’ll tease him of course, but anyone who underestimated him or was insulting him had to deal with you.

Tanaka and Noya call you “Hinata’s girlfriend” (they just think that and no one corrected them).

Started dating by accident.

Hanging out as friends was turning into something else.

Constant hand holding as well as hugs.

Were each other’s first kiss because he “wanted to know what it felt like”.

Kept kissing after that.

Eventually he just starts introducing you as his girlfriend.

“Shoyo, you just told them I’m your girlfriend.”

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“You never asked me to be your girlfriend.”

“Oh my god I forgot.”

Chaos everywhere you go.

He’s your best friend and your boyfriend.

He’s always getting you things.

Invites you to every game (you were going either way).

[thecapricunt1616]

Carmy x Silly TikTok Trends

You guys - I just saw that trend of girls running away from their BF’s screaming on tik tok after challenging them to a race and I know Carmy A) if you challenged him to ANYTHING he’s falling for it & saying he’s gonna win, and B) Feel so gullible and embarrassed when he realized what was going on. Please, it was too funny not to imagine so let me share what I saw in my mind's eye. (Forgive me if this is stupid or cringe being either isn’t a CRIME OK?!)

So of course you’d see this trend online somewhere or another & Carmy didn’t because the man is chronically OFFline, so when you’re walking out of a restaurant after a date one day & you turn to him being like - “Bear, I bet I could totally beat you if we raced to the car right now, wanna try?” he would smile cockily and chuckle, because let's be honest the man is fit- Carmy looks like he has a runner's body with slight weight lifting, so I wouldn’t doubt that he's a cardio king. He would be like “No- No way babe, I’d smoke you- even with a head start” and he's all confident and cocky. So you take your phone out and giggle, sliding your camera open “Really? Can I record it just so I can show everyone I beat you?” and he chuckles and nods and is like “Yup- I’ll even give you 3 seconds head start” as you start recording and you’re like  “Hey guys! So I just told Carm I could beat him on the way to the car in a race- he says I can’t so were gonna see” with a big smile in the camera knowing your plans and he’s like “Babe- I’ll fucking smoke your ass. No doubt,  ready I’ll give you your three seconds-” he said and you took off jogging nonchelantly knowing what you had in store “Is that all you got?” he asked as he took off sprinting after you, you laughed as you took a deep breath and start screaming “HE’S CHASING MEEEEEEE!!!!! HELP!! HELP MEEE!! HE’S GONNA KILL ME!!!” You picked up your speed, sprinting as fast as you possibly could towards your car while keeping his shocked face in frame with his arms spread out in the what the fuck are you doing!! - way, that always made you crack up. He stops dead in his tracks, jaw dropping at your cheating antics and he starts cracking up, shaking his head as a few strangers heads turn, knowing you were just fucking around when you stop and turn the camera zooming in on him when you got to the car, laughing amusedly “I wonnnn!” you said happily and he jogged over, squeezing your hip and kissing you as you ended the recording. “If the cops come pounding down the door cause they think i’m kidnappin’ you you’ll get to explain that you like to fuck around like that in public” he spanked you playfully as he unlocked the car, opening the door to take you both home.

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: He Came Home [Yandere Michael Myers x Reader]

Title: He Came Home [Yandere Michael Myers x Reader]

Synopsis: You're being stalked by the Boogeyman but no one believes you.

For Horrorfest request:

I'm so happy you write for Halloween omg 👀 can I request a stalker ish michael Myers, more yendere than I'm going to murder you brutally right away lol

Word Count: 1647

Notes: Yandere, stalking, death/killing (not reader); some graphic violence descriptions.

It’s someone playing a prank. People always do it around Halloween.

You shouldn’t make up stories using Michael Myers. It’s not funny. He really killed people, you know.

If you don’t have concrete evidence, we can’t do anything for you. It’s probably just some teen messing with you.. Keep your doors locked and call us if anything happens.

You’re being stalked by the Boogeyman and not a single person in your life, your whole damn town, believes you. And maybe there’s a reason for it, God knows that it wasn’t uncommon for people to pull pranks like this--to turn tragedy into mockery and entertainment.

Damn kids, and all that.

But it’s different now because it’s real and it’s happening to you. And you are not crazy or lying and this is not a prank. You’ve seen him more than once, a shadow at first, something you brushed off.

The next time, he was standing down the street, half hidden by a tree. But you saw him. And he saw you. And every muscle in your body had tensed before you whirled around and ran. It was a joke, a teenager with a morbid sense of humor, maybe one of your friends praying on your scaredy-cat tendencies. 

But then you saw him from your bedroom window, standing down below in the grass. 

And your kitchen window, behind the fluttering sheets you’d tacked up earlier in the day.

And you know, you just know, that one day he will be inside your house.

Coming for you.

--

No one believes you. But that doesn’t stop your friends from laughingly agreeing to have a sleepover to ease your worries, something none of you have done since you were teenagers. Only this time instead of sneaking booze from mom’s locked cabinet using the pilfered key and drinking until you saw stars, you were going to be stone-cold sober and sleeping with a knife.

If (when?) he came for you, you’d be ready. 

Glenn disappears first, after announcing that he’s heading out to the garage to grab a beer. Like he’s at some teenage kegger.

Your friends laugh when he doesn’t return--maybe he’s chugging them all and not saving any for the rest of us--but you start to tear up and Tina sighs and says she’ll go out to get them.

But Tina doesn’t come back, either.

The house is silent and it’s just you and Nancy, and Nancy is the sensible one. She won’t make jokes about what you say you’re experiencing, even if she’s keen to downplay it as a prank. She doesn’t dismiss Glenn and Tina not coming back as something silly. Instead, she locks the door to the garage and flicks off all the lights and grabs a baseball bat.

Don’t, you should say, don’t go looking for them. But you’re too afraid to look yourself and Nancy, Nancy is strong isn’t she? Strong and brave. She won’t do anything stupid. So she heads to the front door and tells you to lock it as soon as she leaves, then wait by the phone and call the cops if she isn’t back in a few minutes.

And you do, with fingers that fumble and sweat. The lock clicks hard and you run to the phone, hand trembling on the receiver so hard that you keep lifting it off and hearing little bursts of dial tone. 

You glance down at your watch, squinting in the dimness to see the time. It’s been a minute, maybe two. How long should you wait? Maybe Nancy was chewing them out, scolding them for scaring you. Yeah. She would do that. Then she’d make them come in and apologize, like she’d had to do before when they pushed your buttons too hard. 

This fantasy carries you through to the next minute, and the next, until the garage door bursts open, and you can hear the wood splintering and cracking, swiping away anything but an awful reality that sends your heart rate sky-high.

You should run, really, but it feels like your legs are stuck to the floor. Rooted like a tree, even though your hands are now shaking wildly. You dimly hear the dial tone and remember what you’re supposed to do, and your finger shoves itself into the rotary dial, twisting and twisting the local sheriff’s office--

Until the phone is ripped out of the wall like a piece of paper, and you turn around to see the real-life boogeyman standing in front of you. No longer far away and through glass, but flesh and blood, close enough to see, close enough to smell. 

Close enough that you can see the glint of a knife in his hand.

You can even see his eyes through the mask and meet his gaze, your own eyes wide with pinprick pupils, and his merely staring at you through the holes in this mask. You hear, softly enough, the sound of breathing; his or yours? 

A gasp is caught in your throat when he grabs your shirt and shoves you away from the ruined phone, hard enough to knock you off your feet. You land on the floor, but your legs no longer feel rooted, and you scramble to your feet and do the only thing you can do: run.

The ruined garage door is the path of least resistance, and you run through the doorway and grope for the railing but miss it. 

You trip down the stairs, landing on the concrete hard enough to make your palms sting and even bleed, but--no, that’s not your blood. That’s not your blood at all. The blood on your palm is thick and wet and when you look up, you see Nancy’s corpse sprawled out on the ground, face down, stab wounds oozing from her back. Tina and Glenn are behind her, both bleeding heavily from the chest. Tina’s red chest heaves and maybe her eyes look at you, but you can’t tell if she actually sees you.

“Oh,” you say, voice suddenly unrecognizable to your own ears. “Oh.”

And there’s a shadow above you, the shadow of shadows, and you don’t even have time to turn around as his hand grips the back of your shirt and pulls you backward. 

Words flash through you--I’m going to die--before there’s a dull awful pain at the back of your head (why the knife blunt?) and darkness overtakes everything in the world.

--

You don’t expect to wake up, but you do. 

And when you do, you’re sitting in an unfamiliar space full of dust and dirt. A simple room with nothing in it but a ragged blanket and some stray, dusty furniture--an old wooden chair, a wooden chest. The windows are boarded up, but you can tell it’s night-time.

A house that no one has been in for years, maybe. A house that has fallen into disrepair and ruin. There weren’t any houses like this in town proper, you knew, so you must be in the woods outside of town, where there were occasionally remnants of abandoned places. 

Why were you in the woods? Why were you in a house?

The thoughts are clear and simple, piercing through a swimming ache in the back of your head. You focus on these thoughts to keep you from passing out again. In the woods, in a house. In the woods, in a house. In the woods, in a house.

But why?

And then you remember. Michael Myers. Your friends. The blood. The pain.

As if on cue, there’s another sound in the house. A sound that is distinctly familiar, heavy footsteps and yes, it must have been his before--the sound of breathing. Soft and subtle, like a stray sound muffled through the wall. 

You move to stand on weakened legs, but keep yourself pressed back against the wall as the figure of Michael Myers walks and stands in the doorway.

It’s as if the air itself becomes thick and heavy with his presence, and you almost want to sit down again. But you force yourself to stay standing. At least if you’re standing, you have a chance to run, if you can.

But he doesn’t give you one, not at this moment, anyway. Instead he stays in the doorway and simply stares at you.

Long enough for your tongue to loosen, words coming out dry through your chapped lips. How long were you out, anyway?

“Why… why did you bring me here?”

No answer.

“Where are we?”

No answer.

Finally, you swallow spit, and ask a question that you don’t really want to be answered. 

“Are you going to kill me?”

You swear you hear him inhale through his nose, a short, thin sort of breath. 

He takes a step into the room. There’s nowhere for you to go, and you feel helpless sobs start to bubble up in your throat. You look down and there’s no knife--that you can see--but that doesn’t stop the visuals of your murdered friends and vague impressions of everyone you know who has been killed by him from flashing through your head.

He stops right in front of you. You half expect him to grab your neck and twist. Or grab your throat and squeeze.

But all he does is tilt his head slightly, looking at you through the holes in his mask. You wish you could erase the visual memory of his eyes, wish that you’d never seen them at all; the faraway impression that he had two big black holes was more merciful than this. 

And then his hand reaches out and touches your face, callused fingertips brushing against your cheek. 

His fingers leave behind traces of grime and your friends' dried blood. 

[wileys-russo]

elf on a shelf II a.russo & l.williamson x reader

lil christmas fic number two! psa; just because i write this does not mean i ship them irl elf on a shelf II a.russo & l.williamson x reader

"woah! someone's speedy today, what's wrong then? where's the missus's?" katie was quick to snag you as you stormed into the dressing room, throwing your bag down with a scowl.

"if they've half a brain between them as far away from me as they can get!" you warned, shrugging off your friends arm and dropping down by your cubby to change into your boots.

having driven yourself this morning after a particularly nasty row with the blondes who shared your heart you'd stormed out of the house without a single look back, shocked you'd not copped a speeding ticket with how heavy your foot fell on the accelerator, determined to get as far away from the two girls as possible.

"oi! none of that pissy little attitude with me thanks. tell us what happened then." katie warned lightly, sitting down beside you and knocking her knee against yours as you sighed and dragged your hands down your face, starting to recount where it had all started.

if you were to know just how far things were going to go, you'd have never ever even considered getting that stupid little elf.

everything had been laid into motion last week when you'd seen a few tiktoks of adorable elf on the shelf ideas. never having really given them much consideration before you had thought it might be an opportunity for some cute christmas cheer around the house.

not that it needed much more. between you, alessia and leah all three of you had decorated your shared home extensively for the holiday season.

as you had prepared for there was the usual arguments around the tree, the worst of them being who got to choose the theme and who got to place the angel of the north of course, on top.

"what on earth is that babe?" leah had scoffed as you'd dropped it happily on the coffee table with a grin. "oo one of those elf things!" alessia had gasped happily, grabbing your hips and tugging you down onto the sofa with her.

"well its not a fucking reindeer less." leah chuckled earning herself a filthy look from the striker as you kissed her cheek with an amused smile.

"you're supposed to move them around the house and pose them to look like they're doing weird and funny stuff. it's mostly parents who do them for kids but i thought it could be cute for the three of us to take turns." you tossed your phone to leah who scrolled through a few videos with a hum.

"i think it's a great idea baby." alessia agreed, squeezing you tightly in approval. "guess it's not the worst idea you've had." leah shrugged as you kicked her ankle gently.

"sorry, it's a cute idea love. you start tonight, then less, then me." leah smiled apologetically, scooting closer and handing you back your phone, the three of you getting comfortable.

how naive you were not to know just how far things would go.

your first turn started off harmlessly, once your girlfriends had gone up to bed you spread some flour out on the counter, creating a snow angel and leaving the elf spread out in the middle, snapping a picture with a happy grin.

"oh that's so cute baby!" alessia was the first to notice it the next morning, snapping a picture and uploading it to her instagram story with a smile.

it took leah a little longer, never the most observant woman in the mornings but once she'd had a coffee she'd chuckled at the elf, wiping down the flour before the three of you needed to leave for training.

your suspicions should have peaked when you noticed kyra and vic hanging around alessia all day, seemingly always in her ear as she would nod and note something down in her phone with a grin.

her first turn the next night again was harmless, you waking up to find the elf in the fridge sat on top of a carton of eggs with a sharpie in its arms. the eggs with funny faces drawn all over them you let out a laugh which warmed the blonde's heart as she hugged you from behind.

"naughty naughty elf." she'd tutted in your ear, kissing your cheek and reaching past you to grab out a carton of juice. "really?" was leah's response once she'd spotted it, raising an eyebrow at the younger girl who shrugged.

"he must have gotten bored." alessia grinned sipping at her coffee. "yeah babe, maybe he just wanted the eggs to look their very best on their death day!" you added on, chopping up some peppers to make omelettes.

"death day? touch dark there gorgeous." alessia laughed, rinsing her mug in the sink and tapping your bum as she passed you with a wink. "the two of you are something else, why do i put up with it?" leah sighed dramatically, closing the fridge.

"think you mean why do we put up with you!" you teased, her body pressing against yours and nipping at your bottom lip before she placed a tender kiss against them. "hilarious my girl, hilarious."

for leah's turn she was a little more stumped than the two of you had been, having to do some extensive research to try and find some ideas she felt were achievable.

you'd woken up the next morning to find the elf sat on the bathroom counter with a tube of toothpaste in his hands, UTA spelled out in toothpaste on the marble top.

taking a photo and sending it in the teams group chat you rolled your eyes with an amused smile and hopped into the shower, leaving it for one of your girlfriends to clean up considering both of them were refusing to get up.

your next turn meant you'd filled up the kitchen sink with water, dropping in a bunch of goldfish crackers and propping the elf on the tap with a straw to look like he'd gone fishing.

that had gone over well with both your girls and ended up on leahs story, though having to fish out the soggy crackers from the sink had left you gagging and reconsidering the idea all together.

for alessia's she'd poked holes in a piece of toast, sticking the elf's arms and legs through and leaving it sat by the toaster with a little note stating 'it's cold outside...but i am toasty in here ;) '.

you'd found it adorable, leah less so. which had meant you'd spent the entire morning of your day off fussing over the striker who was grumpy with leah for her response, and then in turn you'd spent the afternoon placating a moody leah who'd felt ignored all day.

by dinner time they'd settled down and made up again and the three of you were curled up on the lounge eating pizza, seemingly a normal evening. until leah had to of course open her mouth and set forth the ball rolling which would eventually lead to a series of unfortunate events.

"why don't we make this elf business a bit more interesting?" the eldest between the three of you had challenged with a smug smile. "how so?" alessia raised an eyebrow, your legs draped across her lap as your top half was tucked into leah's side.

"no more posting photos. end of each rotation we show the girls and they choose whose was the best? most successful choices by the end of the month wins." leah challenged with a smirk.

"no! come on it's just supposed to be something cute for the three of us." you'd protested but it was no use. "you're on." alessia agreed with a smirk that matched leah's causing you to exhale deeply.

"why does everything have to be a competition with the two of you?"

things escalated after that to say the least. with you not wanting to compete you'd been cut from the roster all together, leah and alessia now just going night for night, too absorbed in their competitive natures to notice that it had upset you to see it turn into this.

throughout the week though the elf seemed to take on a little more of a personal vendetta against your girlfriends, the pranks going from harmless and cute to targeted.

alessia had started it by wrapping all of leah's trainers in foil and leaving the elf on top of them with a sign that said 'free shoe shining service'.

leah had countered by tying all of alessia's hoodies together tightly and stringing them from upstairs down to the christmas tree, sitting the elf on top with a candy cane as if he was sliding down them.

still alessia had won that round which leah was not impressed with. you on the other hand barely even paid their turns much attention, refusing to give them any sort of praise of acknowledgement beyond a hum or a nod, not that your vote counted for anything anyway.

it was taken up a notch when alessia had frozen leah's house keys in a block of ice overnight, sitting the elf on top with a makeshift scarf wrapped around him and a pair of tweezers in hand like a small ice pick.

that earned her an entire day of stony silence from the defender, meaning you were instead pulled back and forth between them both after your attention since they weren't receiving any from one another.

leah had once again stepped it up, laying out a bunch of alessia's makeup on the counter, smashing up an eyeshadow pallete and highlighter stick, and writing 'elf was here 2023' on the mirror in her favourite shade of lipstick. the elf in question was sprawled out on the counter with an empty bottle of wine and smeared makeup all over his face.

"leah catherine williamson!"

you'd shot up awake hearing alessia yell, rubbing your eyes and reaching around you, frowning when both sides of the bed were cold and empty. "oh what now." you mumbled tiredly at the noise of the bickering carrying from the bathroom.

"leah most of this stuff is fucking expensive you stupid idiot!" alessia seethed, gesturing wildly to the remnants of what was once her makeup on the counter. "babe i'll just buy you more, you're overreacting." leah rolled her eyes dismissively.

"no you've taken it too far! you fucking ignorant selfish moronic-" alessia struggled to think of her next words as you entered the room. "hey, lessi baby breathe." you gripped her bicep with a concerned frown, steam practically pouring out of the blondes ears.

"oh of course you take her side!" leah scoffed with a roll of her eyes as you fixed her with a stern look. "why wouldn't she? you're the one in the wrong!" alessia spat, wrapping you in a bone crushing hug and pulling your shorter body into hers possessively.

"it's a joke less! lighten up and grow a funny bone would you?" leah laughed, only fueling alessia's anger further as you quickly grabbed her face before she could explode, murmuring it wasn't worth it as the striker huffed and let go of you, storming out of the room.

"leah." you started with a disappointed sigh, crossing your arms over your chest and staring her down. "what?" the older girl rolled her eyes sitting on the edge of the bath.

"she's right lee that's too far. none of these have damaged anything." you reminded her. "she froze my keys!" leah whined with a glare. "your house keys babe, we have two extra sets. what would you do if instead of wrapping your trainers in foil she cut them up?" you challenged with a sigh, standing in between her spread legs.

"that's different! trainers are-" "expensive? but can't less just buy you more." "yeah alright you might have a point."

"clean this up and go and say sorry, sincerely. and if she doesn't want to talk to you then give her some space and apologize later." you grabbed the blondes chin, pecking her lips before leaving her behind to clean up her mess.

indeed alessia hadn't wanted to speak with leah but after a few hours of sweet words and grovelling, all seemed to be forgiven.

key emphasis on; seemed to be.

that next morning you'd woken up to yelling again, only this time the roles were reversed.

"alessia mia teresa russo you come here right now!"

"what did you do?" you shot up awake again same as yesterday, thsi time staring down at the smug looking blonde who was laid in bed beside you.

"i didn't do anything, maybe the elf was feeling naughty again." she'd mumbled with a smirk as you pinched the bridge of your nose and inhaled sharply. "alessia. what. did. you. do?" you asked firmly, poking her chest with each word.

but you didn't have a chance to hear her answer as footsteps pounded upstairs and leah flew into the room, not another word said as she grabbed your hands hauling you up and out of bed.

"leah! put me down!" you yelled in shock as suddenly you were flung over her shoulder, watching alessia sit up in bed as you were carried out of the room and downstairs, dumped suddenly on the sofa.

"look what she's done!" leah spat, pointing to a pile of clothing on the coffee table, the elf sat on a tissue box with a pair of scissors. "lee. baby i just woke up, please stop yelling at me." you sighed, closing your eyes and massaging your temples.

"look!" leah huffed, ignoring you completely as she held up shirt after shirt, all with sporadic holes cut throughout them. "oh for fuck sakes. alessia!" you called upstairs, leah continuing on her angry rant without even pausing to take a breath.

"good morning!" the younger blonde smiled happily, slinking downstairs as leah fell silent. "you've ruined half my wardrobe alessia!" she spat, lunging for the blonde as you hastily leapt up and grabbed the back of her hoodie.

"i didn't do anything, the culprits got the scissors right there." alessia shrugged pointing to the elf. "i will stab you with those scissors!" leah spat angrily as you shoved her to sit down in your previous position. "you! kitchen, now." you warned alessia pointing in the other direction as she rolled her eyes but left anyway.

"my love. deep breaths with me please, in for five and out." you started, sitting down on the blondes lap who did as you asked, calming down a little.

"i will take you both shopping this afternoon and less will buy you some new tops, and you'll replace less's makeup." you gave her a firm look as she opened her mouth to protest, eyebrows furrowing together angrily.

"fine. but i'm not sitting in a fucking car with her this morning and i'm not talking to her until she apologizes. just like i had to yesterday!" leah warned as you nodded in understanding, pecking her lips and standing up allowing her to storm off upstairs.

"alessia." you started with a sigh as you appeared in the kitchen, your other girlfriend leaning against the counter looking through her phone. "what?" she mumbled sourly, lips forming a pout.

"don't give me that, you know you went too far." you warned, pulling yourself to sit up on the island. "she started it!" the blonde moved to wiggle inbetween your legs, wrapping her arms around your torso and resting her head on your chest.

"you both started it when you agreed to make what was supposed to be a cute new tradition, into a competition!" you carded a hand through her hair with a deep sigh.

"we're going shopping after training love. you're going to buy leah new shirts and she's going to replace your makeup." you stated, a stern glare silencing the strikers protests as she nodded. both of you winced as suddenly the front door slammed close, leah's car starting in the driveway.

"you can start with an apology though lessi."

things once again seemed to calm after that, both girls ignoring the small elf for a further three days and you breathed a little easier enjoying the extra attention it meant you got from them instead.

but of course one kyra cooney cross had to open her mouth complaining about the lack of elf content with several of the girls backing her up, and you could have wrung their necks then and there, leah and alessia sharing a look across the dressing room which made your stomach lurch.

your warning them against it fell on deaf ears, their anger at one another for the mistakes of the past evaporating as they spent the afternoon teasing one another for who would win, leah having borrowed an elf off beth without your knowledge.

"thats it! i am over this. both of you leave me alone until you go to bed and i can get some peace and quiet!" you snapped as they started to go back and forth over the top of your head, shoving both of them off of you and storming to the spare bedroom.

you busied yourself with your studies for the rest of the evening, having taken a break over the holiday period considering your course was self paced.

but needing something to keep your mind off things you sprawled across the bed reading your text books, ignoring both your girlfriends attempts to coax you back out to spend time with them, the door firmly locked with the key in your pocket.

eventually having to give into how much you missed them, you snapped your books shut and padded to the bedroom. "baby!" alessia perked up at the sight of you, opening her arms expectantly as leah gave you a tired smile.

"you're both so annoying sometimes." you mumbled as you crawled into bed between them, settling into alessia's arms as leahs face tucked into your neck. "we're sorry gorgeous, we love you very very much." alessia whispered, kissing your cheek gently as leahs hand snaked up your top.

your breath hitched feeling her cold fingers trace shapes on your bare chest as alessia caught on, her lips settling on your neck as leah pushed herself up and hovered over you with a wolfish grin, suddenly wide awake.

"how about we make it up to you then baby girl?"

waking up that next morning you smiled seeing finally both of your girlfriends were in bed with you. no yelling, no arguing, no naughty little elf related disasters.

oh how wrong you were.

ignoring their half asleep grumbles for you to stay you wrenched yourself out of leah's tight hold, kissing both of their foreheads and slipping out of bed to make all three of you breakfast before training.

except you didn't make it to the kitchen.

this time it was leah and alessia who woke up to yelling, though this time when it was a cry of pain they both scrambled out of bed, tripping over one another in their haste to get to you.

"baby?" "love?"

you groaned in pain at the bottom of the stairs, leah hastily grabbing the back of alessia's shirt to stop her following in your footsteps.

"leah!" the striker gasped with wide eyes, the stairs covered with mountains of toilet paper supposed to look like snow which is what had caused you to slip down them.

"alessia!" leah echoed in the same tone, eyes falling to the kitchen where a thin layer of flour covered the entire room head to toe. but hearing you groan both of them snapped out of it, carefully making their way down as fast as they could toward you.

"do not touch me!" you warned as they reached you, the scarily calm tone of your voice causing them both to recoil as you gradually got to your feet. "baby we didn't-" alessia's words fell short as you held up a hand.

"not a word, from either of you." you whispered, anger on the brink of boiling point as you turned on your heel, slightly limping as you headed for the kitchen, none the wiser of what was to greet you as all you wanted was an ice pack for where you'd landed right on your ass.

"oh this is going to be ugly." leah mumbled, grabbing alessia's hand as you rounded the corner and your eyes landed on the kitchen.

"my love we-" again their words fell short as you held up a hand, back faced toward them as you leant forward, sagging against the counter as your hands gripped the marble with white knuckles.

a thick uncomfortable silence formed, both alessia and leah sharing a terrified look as you slowly turned, a murderous look in your eyes.

it was safe to say the words that followed were not PG13, both of your lovers remaining deadly silent as you ranted and raged at them, storming upstairs and changing in the blink of an eye, door slamming after you as they both cringed and hurried off to clean up and get themselves ready.

which is what brought you back to present time, sat beside katie as you finished recounting the mornings events to her. "fuck, well that explains it. incoming!" the irishwoman nodded toward the door where your girlfriends had entered.

alessia tried to approach you first as katie mumbled her a good luck and darted away after caitlin, however the piercing glare and stony silence she received were enough to send her right back to leah.

the older blonde was next, taking a much bolder approach as you felt her sit down beside you as you were hunched over tying up your laces. "baby girl." she started sweetly, wincing as your head shot up and your eyes slit into a glare, the name which normally had you swooning having no effect whatsover.

"both of you need to stay away from me. do not talk to me, look at me, breathe near me for the entire day." you warned the defender before stomping out of the change rooms, a few of the other girls gravitating toward her to question what had happened.

true to your wishes both girls steered clear of you, though that didn't stop you feeling their eyes on you throughout the day. they'd hoped to catch you maybe in a better mood once training was done but you'd already left, not bothering to shower but rather leaving as soon as you could, the first one gone for the day.

when they came home it was to no surprise you were once again locked in the spare room, a stony silence meeting them as they knocked gently, leaving you be for a few hours and hoping with time you might come to them.

when that didn't happen, they knocked heads together to come up with an alternative plan.

which is what lead to yet another round of knocks on the door, your head turning to look at it with a roll of your eyes, tucked up and watching a movie quite comfortably. but thats not to say you wouldn't be more comfortable with your blondes either side of you.

"baby. please open the door and let us apologize face to face." alessia begged softly. "please love, we really miss you and we want to make things right." lead added on quietly, a soft thump sounding as her forehead rested against the door.

with a sigh you paused your movie, getting up to unlock the door, not opening it as you settled back into bed and your girlfriends took that as a green light as they pushed it open slowly and stepped inside.

you refused to look either one of them in the eye as they sat on the edge of the bed, giving you a healthy amount of space not wanting to overstep your boundaries. "we are so incredibly sorry gorgeous." alessia started softly. "very very very sorry." leah nodded enthusiastically.

"for?" you questioned, still not meeting their eyes. you didn't miss the way alessia elbowed leah, the girl clearing her throat for a moment.

"for turning something that was supposed to be fun and light hearted into a competition, and getting carried away with that competition and being immature, selfish numpties." leah recounted, the tone in which she used making it clear it had been rehearsed as you tried to keep the smile off your face.

"if you come downstairs with us please babe we have a surprise." alessia asked hopefully. "please." leah added on as you finally met their eyes and nodded, still remaining quiet but standing up to follow them regardless.

"what-" you started as leahs hands came to cover over your eyes and alessia steadied you, grabbing your hands and guiding you downstairs. "just go with it." leah encouraged as you sighed but nodded none the less allowing them to guide you.

"ta-da!" you blinked a few times as your eyes adjusted to the light, but once you did your hand moved to cover your mouth.

before you was a pillow fort they'd both clearly put some time and effort into building, spare duvets and cushions littering the tee-pee like space. one of the elves was sat on top of a pile of pizza boxes and snacks, holding a sign that said he was very sorry for misbehaving.

the other was taped to a spoon which was dunked into a mug of hot chocolate, next to him was a sign that read 'it was all his fault but i took care of him' and an arrow pointing toward him.

"they wanted to say they were sorry as well." alessia grinned, leah taking her chances and wrapping her arms round your waist, her chin settling on your shoulder and body relaxing when you didn't pull away or push her off.

"we are also very sorry baby, very very sorry." leah murmured as alessia hugged you, effectively sandwiching your body between them as you sighed. "you're both forgiven. but those elves are finding new homes and they are not welcome back!" you warned, all three of you pausing before laughter broke out.

"we've got christmas movies, lots of pillows and blankets, snacks, pizza, cuddles, kisses and even got a pint of your favourite ice cream from that little place down the road." leah recounted as alessia took your hand and guided you down into the little fort.

"the peanut butter choc chip one?" you perked up at that as the strikers face paled. "you told me her favorite was the rocky road!" leah groaned glaring at alessia who shrank into herself with a sheepish smile.

"less that's your favourite flavor!" you cracked a grin, smacking her thigh playfully as leah shoved her head to the side. "you still like it though, you always steal mine when we go babe." the striker pouted, pulling your body to sit between her legs as she leaned into leah's side.

"merry almost christmas, my pretty girls." leah smiled lovingly, hand resting on the back of alessia's neck and pulling her into a kiss, leaning down to press her lips against yours next, alessia following suit, pulling away and kissing your nose causing you to scrunch it up adorably.

"i love you both very much, even if you drive me to the brink of insanity sometimes." you craned your head up to look at them, tapping your lips again with a cheeky smile as both of them took turns giving you what you wanted.

it was safe to say after that you were not surprised to see the next day both elves on katie's instagram story, wasting no time texting caitlin a firm warning about their misbehavior.

as well as a strict reminder they were not welcome back into your home, not even for a visit.

[dolliethv]

One Of The Girls.

summary: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes I'm sorry!! Hiii, this is a pretty TO long story, I wanted to write something with a lot of sexual tension and a lot of smut, read it calmly and I hope you enjoy it xoxo!!

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem reader!!

Word count: about 6k

You weren't sure if attending Jude's party was a good idea, but something inside you—maybe the excitement of Halloween and the thought of celebrating with your group of friends, or perhaps the hope of seeing him—convinced you. Jude's huge, new house in Madrid, decorated with lit pumpkins and fake cobwebs, gleamed in the distance, full of people already enjoying the night.

You stepped inside, and strobe lights danced on the walls, while laughter and music filled the air. You grabbed a drink as you passed by the improvised bar, trying to relax. You hadn’t taken more than two steps when you felt that familiar gaze tracing your body. You slowly turned, and there he was, Jude, leaning against the wall, his eyes fixed solely on you.

You wished the ground would swallow you because your damn group of friends was headed straight toward Jude Bellingham’s group. Of course, they all knew each other.

After your friends had chatted enough with the other group, you decided to take the lead.

"Couldn’t you put a little more effort into your costume?" That was the first thing you asked when you finally looked him in the eyes for the first time that night.

Curious about what he was actually dressed as?

Seriously? A simple cop uniform? You could bet your life on the fact that men have zero originality—they always go for the easy option. Lord, give me patience.

You absolutely hated basic Halloween costumes. Anything that took less than ten minutes and minimal effort didn’t deserve attention. It might seem a bit over the top, but given the number of creative ideas this particular holiday offered, you just couldn’t stand it.

Not when you even designed and made your own costume for the occasion.

But it was funny how quickly Jude changed your mind.

Basic is good. Basic is great. Damn it.

"What’s your costume supposed to be, anyway?" Jude continued, his voice calm but his body still a bit tense.

"It’s Suki from Fast and Furious!" Drew, one of Jude’s friends, shouted loud enough that the music barely muffled it.

He wasn’t even trying to hide his blatant staring, but truthfully, neither of you cared. You turned and headed off with your friends to who knows where.

You knew you looked good. You’d worked particularly hard on your outfit for tonight, so you had no reason to hide. Everything was perfectly planned, from head to toe.

Minutes passed, and you tried to convince yourself there was no reason to panic, but there were a lot of people, and your outfit was a bit too revealing. So, when you felt hands around your waist, you were ready to scream for whoever it was to back off.

"It's me."

Oh my God, you almost had a heart attack.

Jude pulled you against him, your back pressed to his chest, his left hand settling on your hip while his right extended around your shoulder to not-so-gently push people aside. The tall, dark-haired boy didn’t take long to start moving you both, making space with his prominent frame when people were too slow to get out of the way, shoving them until he cleared a path for both of you.

Stupid party, stupid Jude Bellingham. It was his fault you ended up there anyway. Jude may not have seen your face, but he definitely felt how tense you were in his arms.

"Why the bad attitude?"

Bad attitude? You didn’t know much about attitudes, but all your limited knowledge vanished when he pulled you even closer.

You cleared your throat briefly, your words followed by a slight shake of your head.

"Am I the one with the bad attitude?" you replied.

Because truthfully, you’d been on your best behavior since you got to that house. Or at least trying.

Jude loved driving you crazy; he thought you looked damn adorable acting tough at barely 5'1".

"By the way, you look amazing."

It was a great move, saying something so flattering to ease the tension.

"Thanks," you murmured, not caring whether he heard, your eyes glued to the back of the guy Jude was elbowing out of the way.

Two stomped-on feet and a "Are you gonna move or what the hell are you waiting for?" later, you were finally out of the chaos.

Well, as far out of danger as you could be at a party and in a house full of mostly strangers.

However, Jude didn’t stop there. He guided you to what you vaguely recognized as the first hallway on the right, his hands never leaving your body. It wasn’t unpleasant for you, not at all, but you both drew more than a few curious stares. It didn’t bother you much now that your closest friends knew. Other people’s opinions of you were never the most positive anyway, but you were surprised at how little Jude seemed to care, considering it was his house.

When you finally stopped, you found yourselves where you’d suspected a few moments earlier, slightly sheltered from the loud music. There were a few other people around, but they were far enough away not to intrude on your conversation.

Jude released you a few seconds before turning you around and wrapping his arms around you again, pulling you close as he leaned against the wall.

"I like your hairstyle; it’s cute," he said, grabbing a lock of your hair between his fingers. "Scratch that. Actually, I love how sexy you look with your hair down."

You were starting to seriously regret the day you told Jude you wouldn’t mind being complimented daily because it was getting out of hand.

How were you supposed to function properly when Jude kept looking at you with dark eyes?

You swallowed hard, shifting your gaze to the side of his face to avoid dealing with the intensity of his stare. You needed to say something and had to do it now.

"People were staring at us."

Of course, your voice trembled, and of course, out of all the things you could’ve said, you picked the one with the most potential to ruin the moment.

Jude was being very open tonight, and while you didn’t dislike it, it was new and somehow made him even more intimidating. All you could focus on was trying to stay afloat, despite involuntarily melting into the warmth of his touch and the comfort of his voice.

"When you look like that, baby, of course, people are going to stare."

You were getting nervous so quickly that it was unreasonable. Your breathing was already picking up, and butterflies were fluttering, one by one, to the point that you could no longer distinguish between those in your heart and those in your stomach.

This was exactly why you shouldn’t stay away from Jude for too long.

"News travels fast, Bellingham. Especially when you’re the footballer of the moment."

But with Jude, you didn’t have to worry. Jude could take care of both of you, and maybe you shouldn’t trust him, but God, it felt so good to be protected.

You desperately wanted to kiss him. Every brush of his thumb against your skin was electrifying. You needed to be closer, needed more, and this time, it had nothing to do with lust.

It was the kind of need you hadn’t felt before, the kind that demanded an exchange of feelings, even if not through words. Even if you tore off your clothes and pressed skin to skin, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat, it wouldn’t be enough. You wanted to be inside Jude’s mind, to share all his thoughts, to experience the unknown, to finally understand each other, but you were too scared.

You couldn’t get there just yet.

"Your costume is stupid," you finally said, your voice coming out a bit more determined.

Jude’s lips curled into a smile, which quickly turned into a laugh that disappeared just as fast, but it was definitely something worth remembering.

"You’re so good at flirting," he purred sarcastically. "Tell me more."

You thought you might be able to keep a straight face, but as soon as you saw him smile, you followed. There was something so addictive about it, maybe the fact that you didn’t see it often, but it definitely made Jude ten times more attractive.

And he was already too attractive to begin with. God.

"It really is stupid," you confirmed your own thoughts, your fingers trailing up to fix the collar of Jude’s cop uniform. "But you look so sexy. I don’t know why I’m so into this kind of stuff."

You knew you weren’t the only one. It’s not for nothing that women love men in uniform.

"You don’t like the uniforms; you like the authority behind them. Or should I say, you’re afraid of it?"

Even though you had the same smile, Jude looked completely different, but he was right. You always felt uneasy around any kind of authority figure.

Watching Jude—with the quite noticeable height and body size difference compared to you, with the sleeves of his uniform stretching around his biceps every time he moved—you couldn’t blame yourself for feeling a bit nervous.

And to top it all off, a pair of very real-looking handcuffs hung from his belt.

So yeah, you gave up your principles about liking the basic for one night, but Jude had chosen a really good costume to spark your imagination.

"Honestly..." Jude grabbed your chin and pulled you even closer, his eyes fixed on your lips. "I wouldn’t mind being a cop if it meant I could make pretty things like you tremble."

As if he needed to be a cop to do that. Idiot.

As if you didn’t already find him intimidating enough without the costume. As if your knees didn’t buckle and your body didn’t heat up every time Jude looked you in the eyes for more than three seconds.

"I think that’d be an abuse of power."

Very socially aware of you, but it might be more believable if you stopped looking at him like you wanted him to take advantage of you. You know it's wrong to think that.

Jude hummed, sliding his thumb over your lower lip before pressing it and pulling it down. The movement was so sudden it made you hiss. It was almost embarrassing how willing you were for Jude to do whatever he wanted, to play with your body however he pleased, without questioning the reason.

"It isn’t if you enjoy it."

Their heads tilted to opposite sides, moving closer with lips tingling from the desire to kiss. You could feel Jude exhale before gently pressing his body against yours and brushing his mouth against yours when—

"Bellingham!"

Both grimaced, and you quickly jumped back, your hands starting to smooth out the wrinkles in your clothes. You didn’t turn around or look at Jude; you didn’t want to know if someone had really seen you and didn’t want to deal with it.

Jude’s friends weren’t the type of people he enjoyed talking to, so it would be weird to find yourself in a situation where you had to pretend to be a bit interested in what they had to say.

"Oh, hey," Jude responded with much less enthusiasm as the sound of footsteps grew louder.

"Good party, man."

You recognized the characteristically deep voice and immediately tried to move a little further from the sound. You opted to take the empty space next to Jude, and to avoid seeming rude, you looked up, meeting Trent Alexander’s eyes before giving a small nod in his direction. The man nodded back with a shy smile resting on your lips.

"Hey y/n, you look great!!" He said.

"Thanks."

You knew him, or at least you knew who Alexander was. In your defense, you knew all the people in your circle of unfortunately extroverted friends. You knew he was a guy with too much money, another footballer, not surprisingly—very attractive—and also much kinder than many other rich and attractive people.

However, you started to feel anxious.

Alexander didn’t seem to notice your discomfort, even after greeting you. But then the guy lowered his gaze, not going below the level of your skirt, but enough to make you wonder— is this guy checking me out?—God, men are all so bold.

Suddenly, Bellingham cleared his throat, subtly but enough to move you a little out of Trent’s view.

Oh, okay.

"Sorry to bother you, but my friend here won’t stop saying she wants to meet the great Jude Bellingham."

Unaware of the presence of someone else before, you moved your gaze to Trent, where a model-like tall girl was giving all her attention to Jude.

You were annoyed by how attractive she was. You couldn’t imagine how she looked in Jude’s eyes. You weren’t a fan of the cliché thought of hating other women over men, but damn, this feeling was hard to handle.

"Can you blame me? He looks even better than I imagined," she said loudly.

Then you looked at how that girl was dressed.

She was obviously someone very bold, and you were all for female empowerment, but if she came any closer to Jude, you’d have to break her neck.

If Jude hadn’t noticed her before, he definitely was now, shamelessly scanning her figure until stopping on her chest a bit longer than necessary. When he looked back at her face, he gave her a playful smile.

"She knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. My kind of girl."

Sorry, what? His type of what? Is he really giving me a hint?

A fake and shy smile spread across the unknown girl’s face as she tilted her head slightly and flipped her hair back, exposing more of her neck and collarbones.

"Oh, yeah?" She asked, her voice interrupted by laughter. "What else is your type?"

Me?

The girl started tracing circles with her index finger over the lower part of her collarbone before dragging it down, outlining the beginning of her breasts. They were quite exposed; it was hard not to notice them, but there was no worse way Jude could handle it than staring at them, his expression not hiding what he was thinking.

Bellingham took a step towards her, immediately placing his right hand on her hip without gripping it, just touching a bit, while moving to whisper something in her ear.

There was absolutely no damn way Jude was doing this in front of you, there must be some kind of reality error. No fucking way, you were really holding yourself back from pulling him away from her and giving him a beating.

Once the brunette straightened up, they were both smiling, and you couldn’t hear it, but you read it from the girl’s lips.

"I got lucky tonight."

Well, you had never considered yourself a crazy person, or at least not one who acted out of her mind with no regard for social norms.

Nevertheless, at that moment, you could barely stand.

You had no doubt about it anymore; it was too strong not to recognize, too powerful to ignore. You were jealous, so jealous that all you could think about was violence and all you could see was red.

"I’m leaving," Alexander suddenly said, visibly uncomfortable with the looks being exchanged.

You didn’t even have time to thank him mentally before the girl grabbed his arm as if her life depended on it, sweetly smiling at Jungkook and saying:

"I’ll be waiting."

And with that, they left.

The crowd made them disappear in less than a minute, leaving no trace. All you could focus on now was the unshakable smile on Jude’s face.

You despised him.

None of this was part of the plan.

Jude’s plan was to keep you without sex for a while, make you show how much you missed him, make you feel so needy that you’d give in to anything in seconds. Bellingham thought nothing could compare to the feeling he’d have once he saw your desperation, the ease with which he’d let you go, giving him the upper hand in the situation.

He was wrong.

Something better than a proud version of you was a version willing to admit, to admit that you were jealous, and he made you realize it after this little outburst.

"Where were we?" He asked as if nothing had happened, his attention slowly returning to you, clearly displeased at his side.

-I might have overstepped a bit- you thought. Relax.

Since Jude did everything he could to avoid giving you more than a glance while talking to that girl, wanting to make it as real as possible, he was enjoying watching your reaction.

You stared defiantly at the wall opposite them, obviously trying to transfer all your anger to her instead of Jude.

Seeing you cute probably wasn’t what you was looking for, but Jude found it absolutely adorable.

"Is something bothering you, sweetheart?" He gently brushed a lock of hair from your forehead, his voice laced with false concern.

"No."

It wasn’t a very convincing lie with your teeth clenched and a blank expression on your face.

"Mm, I think it is."

"Good for you."

Jude had to stifle a satisfied smile. The way you responded with the first thing that came to your mind showed you weren’t thinking much before speaking.

"Not in the mood for a conversation anymore?"

You closed your eyes.

But you couldn’t do that, not when it was exactly what you wanted to do. He couldn’t be the first to break, admit his lust, show that he wanted to be with you so much that he’d trample his pride.

Not again.

“You know, I never took you for a jerk who got jealous so easily.”

If it were physically possible, your jaw would be hitting the floor. The air caught in your throat and your lips hung oddly open as you looked at Jude and found the lack of concern on his features.

Being honest was the easiest way to get through to him.

“How dare you?” You asked offended, pushing Jude away as hard as you could.

His balance seemed to falter as you failed to move him an inch, but he did successfully sway on his two feet, before Jude grabbed your wrists.

“How dare I what?” He asked you with an amused smirk. “Does she make you jealous? I was just having a conversation, babe.”

“No, not that.” You finished your statement with an irritated groan, violently breaking free from his hold. “You’re an idiot. Go have a conversation then.”

“Should I?”

The look you gave him only said one thing. “I fucking dare you.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to find her?” You couldn’t help the sarcasm. “You didn’t look at her face even once.”

Well, if it wasn’t obvious, you screwed up. The chances of her living without Bellingham mentioning what you wanted him to not notice were now basically non-existent.

“She didn’t put that on so I would look at her face.”

You had never looked so angry, your head shaking in disbelief and fists clenched on either side of your body. You looked like you were really struggling not to slap him and Jude couldn’t blame you. That was the point, after all.

“Oh, wow.”

He was already on his way to calming her down, his hands reaching for your waist, when you raised his in defense.

“Don’t touch me.”

You even pointed with your index finger in warning, wagging it when Jude didn’t stop.

“I’m not joking, I’ll slap you, don’t touch me- mhppm-”

With one hand around your waist and the other pressing against your jaw, Jude had you backed up against the wall in no time. Despite your earlier threats and your bad mood, you surrendered into his arms quickly, melting into the touch, your soft moans being muffled by Jude’s mouth. The longer it went on, the more eager you became, tugging at his uniform, trying to pull him closer despite your bodies already being together.

When he pulled away, you were a mess. It was being a fight for him to refuse your touch.

“We can go to my room…”

He whispered against you, before moving lower.

“Talk…”

He pressed a kiss against your chin

“I’ll make you laugh…”

And then one on the side of your jaw

“I can make you cum…”

You shuddered at the proposal.

You both knew he wanted it, that was not in doubt. The question was how far he would go to get it.

“You will have my full attention.” With sarcasm.

Another kiss, just below your ear.

“All you need to do is ask.” He made sure you were looking at each other when he spoke, eager to see your reaction. “Tell me you don’t want to see me with someone else.”

You noticed how your body completely gave out, all hope in your eyes. Your excitement was replaced with panic as your pupils dilated and your mouth opened and closed without saying a word.

The offer was so tempting, the promise so real, so possible. I hate it.

You wanted it so badly, but it was a matter of pride and even though you were the prouder of the two of you, it was clear that you still had a hard time taking a step back from him.

“If I need to ask for attention, then I don’t want it.” You replied with a dry tone.

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Your jaw clenched at the implication. You knew it.

With the girl dressed in a bad porn nurse costume.

(...)

“Can you stop looking at him? I’m talking to you.”

The words of Odessa, your best friend, barely reached your ears, your thoughts overwhelming you in an almost pleasurable way.

You watched as Jude’s hand wrapped around an unfamiliar waist for the umpteenth time that night, causing your own fingers to grip your knee tightly.

This time it was a redhead, dressed in something that was more meant to cover the most private parts of her body than disguise, but who were you to judge? Right?

There was clearly a set pattern that you noticed during the time you spent sitting, gaping and staring in Bellingham’s direction. People would come up to say hello, most often women, their hands touching as much as they could without being inappropriate and a few minutes after sharing a few words they would come over with eyes fluttering in a way that could only mean one thing.

The first few times it happened, your heart nearly stopped beating. You were sure you knew what was about to happen next- Jude would take her by the hand and lead her to his bedroom.

But it didn’t happen. Not with the curly-haired brunette, not with the six-foot-eight leggy blonde, not with the one he was feasting on now.

Is he not interested? You asked yourself.

A raspy growl rumbled somewhere deep in your throat before you grabbed your glass and clumsily emptied it down your throat, not caring how the liquid spilled from the corners of your lips and down your chin.

You called out to your friends, as you abruptly stood up, almost tripping over someone sitting between them.

“Let’s dance.”

Your lips formed a smile at the thought of Jude seeing you with someone else. It was childish, yes, but you didn't really care.

You were about to execute your plan, but when you turned around, you found nothing worth your attention. The spot Jude was occupying all this time now had other people in it, no sign of the brunette in sight.

You wished you could say that it didn’t affect you.

So you turned your back on your friends and walked in the opposite direction, your newly gained good mood now ruined. You thought maybe if Jude admitted to being jealous, you could too. It would make it less embarrassing.

If Jude was here, surely he could get something better.

Yes, if Jude was here. If he wasn't fucking someone else.

"Having fun?"

A familiar voice reached your ears, close enough to feel the vibration of the sound, making you shiver, thanking God the place was too dark for anyone to notice as Bellingham's proximity made your entire body shake.

You kept your eyes on the empty glass in front of you not quite sure how you were going to respond with his mood.

Any words or actions from you from now on could be detrimental.

"Don't you want to talk to me?"

Silence.

"Okay, I'll go then."

Jude didn't even move. He didn't pull away, nor did he lean back. He stood right where he was five seconds ago, the same annoyed, mocking smile on his features.

"You're still not jealous?"

You weren't just jealous, you were seething with it.

"I am, actually. Tell anyone and I'll make sure it's the last thing that comes out of your mouth."

Admitting jealousy was a big deal for you, especially since you didn't know if Jude felt the same way. Also knowing what was coming after this.

"There's not much that can brighten my mood right now."you entered the room, "I just needed courage for what I'm about to do." locking it once the door was closed.

When you turned around, your eyes met and Jude felt something he hadn't felt in a while, it felt like he didn't really know anything about you.

He wasn't blind to the progress you'd made in the different areas of your relationship, but there was still a lot left to say, explain, discover, and - in a situation like this, when you seemed to be a completely different person - he was surprised at how much he still had to get to know you.

"Yeah? And can I know what it is?"

He longed to feel you again on other parts of his body and even more so when your hot mouth landed on his mouth as you said-

"Punish you."

It wasn't that it hadn't crossed Jude's mind that you might do something like this all night, but still, hearing you out loud was enough to bring a smug smile to his lips.

"Oh, really?"

It would be a lie to say you didn't find it fun.

Things were definitely taking a different turn than he had planned, but then again, ever since the party started, all of his plans were ruined, so he was surprisingly not opposed to the idea.

He was actually very intrigued.

You hummed in agreement and within seconds your hands were back on Jude's body, this time being bolder and freer with your movements.

It was the first proper touch that night and Bellingham thought he was ready, but he really had no idea how much he had missed this until he experienced it again. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but the feel of your palms and the heaviness of your fingers prevented him from doing so.

Your hands moved in opposite directions, one sliding down his abdomen and the other circling the side of his neck. With the pad of your thumb, you traced circles on his skin, massaging and releasing some of the tension.

He had a hard time trying to keep from getting an erection from the moment he laid eyes on you when you arrived. Now... now it was impossible.

"You know..." you started saying.

Jude heard your whisper, but could barely register it due to the heat that was beginning to creep steadily down his body, fading only for a moment when his belt got in the way, but then coming back stronger, with a grip more powerful than before. Bellingham would be ashamed to admit that his breath hitched as soon as he felt you where he wanted it most.

“I’d rather have these for myself, but you left me no choice.”

It all clicked, both metaphorically and literally, in his brain and out loud, but Jude couldn’t move fast enough to stop it.

The handcuffs were already dangling from the tip of your index finger as you swung them teasingly back and forth in front of his face.

Oh. Interesting.

The way you could overpower Jude in a mere second was wonderful.

“What makes you think I’m going to let you do that?”

You pursed your lips briefly as if contemplating his answer.

“And what makes you think I’m going to ask for your permission?” You replied.

“Maybe that drink was too much after all,” he looked at you with a smirk. “Looks like you’re confusing roles.”

Judging by his expression, you didn’t share the same opinion.

You pushed him until the back of his knees hit the bed.

Jude didn’t stop you or object, instead sitting on the edge as he was pushed down, curious to see how things would play out.

“Are you threatening me, baby?” He asked, leaning back on his forearms.

You looked perfect from every angle, she was so sure of it now.

Your free hand gripping Jude’s jaw and squeezing it a little in annoyance.

“My name isn't ‘baby’.”

You slid your fingers down the side of Bellingham's throat where the smear of a lipstick still rested on his skin.

As you stared into each other's eyes, you looked so angry that Jude couldn't help the heat spreading throughout his insides.

"Wouldn't that make you even more angry, baby?" He emphasized on the nickname on purpose, arching an eyebrow mockingly.

The sound that came out of your throat was quiet, but he didn't miss it.

-Even her grunts are cute.-

"Shut the fuck up."

It was clear that you weren't usually the type to get angry to that extent, and even if you had been, you were the type to never act on it.

"Keep your hands behind your back if you don't want to lose your most prized possession."

You felt it before you understood it - a pressure of something hard and unfamiliar against your crotch. Something unwanted.

And it came, a sign. Not too big, not too flashy, not too obvious, but painful and threatening.

Your foot moved so abruptly that the tip of your shoe met the tip of Jude's cock and hit dangerously close to his balls.

You did it. I got you.

"Good choice."

With one swift movement, his crotch was free again, but his hands were bound at the wrists by the steel rings.

You pushed him down onto the bed and pulled his shirt open, leaving his chest completely bare.

“Shit,” you muttered at the sight. “You’re lucky to be attractive.”

“And you’re lucky to be able to see me like this.”

You sent him a questioning look. “Oh, I am? Who hasn’t gotten to see you like this? Because from what I’ve witnessed, you don’t exactly have a criterion when it comes to who you let undress you.”

“You seem really upset by that thought, sweetheart. Are you scared of having a little competition?”

“And what makes them my competition? They’re not as pretty as me.”

“But they’re a lot more obedient.” He replied.

Pure shit.

There’s nothing Jude likes more than how disobedient you are.

“You know my legs are always open for you.”

"Baby..."

"You know you can take anything you want from me, anywhere you want... any way you want..."

Every syllable that came out of your mouth was filled with confidence. Your fingers caressed his jaw as if he was teasing, barely grazing the skin before pulling away and touching another part.

"You have such a dirty mouth." The boy said.

"You want it around your cock?"

Holy shit, did you really say that?

"Yeah."

You hummed, acting like you were considering it.

"But I think you acted like shit, I don't think you deserve it."

"You're lucky that I'm tied up right now, otherwise I'd fuck you until you were ruined."

You seemed to take it as a compliment, your thighs clenching tightly around Bellingham's hips to feel him better.

"Oh yeah? You wanna fuck me?"

As if his massive erection wasn't proof enough already.

“Yes, baby. So bad.”

His confession brought a satisfied smile to your face.

“You wanna see what I got under there?”

“Show me how pretty you are.”

But you didn’t take off any clothes.

You just started riding one of his thighs, your movements teasing and slow.

“Shit. Take this off me.” The dark-skinned one said.

“And why would I do that?”

God, this was getting so frustrating. Jude wanted nothing more to do than watch you choke on his cock until you remembered how to talk to him properly. You shifted a little on his lap, creating a small but effective friction.

“Baby…”

“Suck.” You claimed.

Shit. Usually, Jude was the one giving the orders. Usually, you were the one with Jude’s fingers inside your mouth, too. He opened his mouth obligingly and you immediately pushed two of your fingers in, letting them rest on the tip of his tongue before pushing them fully into his mouth.

“You like having my fingers in your mouth?”

Jude couldn’t help but like the mess he was turning you into.

You withdrew your fingers without warning and brought them to your own mouth, sucking and moaning lewdly as you looked directly into Bellingham’s eyes.

“You’re so fucking dirty.”

Your hand trailed until it was just above your breasts, eyes still on Jude’s as you squeezed your tits.

Jude didn’t even have time to react before he saw you move up your own body and rub through the material covering your pussy, touching up and down a bit teasing the boy in front of you, leaving a wet spot when you pulled your hand away.

“Move your hips for me. Can you do that for me?” That innocent tone you set made Jude explode. And he didn't need to be told twice.

He put all of his weight on his arms, his palms and heels sinking deep into the mattress, and he lifted his hips so hard that you jumped a little on his lap.

Without further ado, he thrust up, fast at first, to give you a taste of his desire, but then slower, nicer, dragging his length over your underwear-covered clit.

You decided to go a little further and freed Jude's cock, so damn big and veiny. You pulled off your underwear and started rubbing yourself. It was so damn delicious the difference in size and how the head of Jude's cock rubbed against your clit.

But what kind of punishment would it be, giving him something he so craved? You knew. You had prepared better.

So when you forgot about everything except the repetitive motion you were supposed to follow, when your moans were finally released loud and clear in the way only he had heard them before, when he could already feel the pleasure, you lifted your hips.

Bellingham groaned in frustration, closing his eyes as he fucked into the air, unable to stop his body from seeking the orgasm he had just been denied.

“Untie me this very instant.”

He may not have sounded angry at his ragged breathing, his body still recovering from the denial, but he was and he would gladly show you how terrifying he could be if he gave him the chance.

You smiled sweetly, dropping your weight onto his lap, a movement so sudden it left him breathless.

“No.”

"I wasn't-" He trailed off, a small sound escaping his mouth from another roll of your hips on his axis. "I wasn't asking."

"Fuck, did I tell you how big you are?" You replied, your small body shaking as you pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed. "You should learn not to play with me Bellingham, I'm not one of those girls, don't get wrong with me."

You pulled up your underwear and pulled back up the shorts that barely covered your ass and the small miniskirt accompanied by a pink belt that was hooked with straps to the leggings that reached just above your knee.

"Shit, shit, shit..." He replied frustrated.

"I'm sorry but now you'll have to fix this on your own." You turned around and walked away.

Jude Bellingham is totally lost.

[fanfic-writer-and-rambler]

Inspired by Class of 09 mostly cause I feel like Jason would ride or die for Roy.

Dick Grayson: Jason, I've been wondering something, Oliver Queen seems to... Really hate you. Why?

Jason: We... We didn't have the best meet up when I became friends with Roy.

Dick sits down: All right, tell me.

Jason: Okay... It's a really funny story, you gonna laugh.

Dick, already prepared for the worse: Oh no.

Flash back (inspired by Class of 09):

Roy: You think that cop bought our story?

Jason: Yeah... Maybe. I'll be right back I have to do this.

Roy watches as Jason walks over to a tilted painting in Oliver Queen's house.

Roy: What are you doing?

Jason Todd, looking at a framed picture of a flower: I can't deal with painting being crooked.

Jason aligns the frame.

Roy laughs. He jolts when his former partner and father figure storms out of his room, Oliver Queen.

Oliver Queen: Where have you been?

Roy Harper: I don't know are you a cop now?

Jason walks over.

Jason Todd: Roy, why's this asshole yelling at you?

Oliver: And who's this?

Roy: My… new friend.

Jason: We were at the mall by the way, so you can stop grilling Roy.

Oliver: So I'm supposed to believe you and this guy were at the mall all night?

Roy: What do you mean all night? We were there for like what... two or three hours?

Jason, looking around: Yeah two and a half like the show.

Oliver: It's 1 in the morning!

Jason: Damn we hung out with that guy that long?

Oliver: What guy?

Roy, nervous: Nobody.

Oliver: What guy, Roy?

Roy: Nobody!

Oliver: Tell me!

Roy frustrated: Oh my God.

Oliver: Tell me or your friend has to go home!

Jason, amused: Cool an ultimatum.

Roy: You really want to know?

Oliver: Yes what guy was this?

Roy, angey: The crackhead in front of the mall we sold weed to!

Oliver: Where did you even get- Oh you're so stupid!

Roy: Oh so you hate homeless people too?!

Oliver: Dealing drugs in public- dealing drugs in general… it doesn’t matter if you sold them to get rid of them! How can you be so idiotic?!

Jason, irritated at the blonde rich man yelling at his friend: It was actually kind of smart.

Oliver, rude: Excuse me?

Jason: You better fix your fucking tone with me before I slash your tires!

Oliver: Who are you talking to!?

Jason: I'm talking to you, Green Arrow!

Oliver: How did you-

Roy: So funny story-

Oliver: Did you sell him crack or heroin? Did you tell him who I was for that smack, Roy!

Roy, rubbing his arm ashamed at his past: ...

Jason: Who says 'smack’, you 1950s gangster! And we sold weed to a crackhead because what would a crackhead want with weed? Cops won't expect that shit! It's genius!

Oliver: Genius, really?!

Jason: Yeah and he's been sober for a fucking year! So lay off him! We sold the weed because we had it left over from a mission! A mission you weren't on! What did you want? For us to keep it? That’s dumb! We did a business deal and got rid of evidence. You should be thankful we don’t have it!

Roy: Yeah, so... why don't you shut the fuck up?!

Oliver: What if I have you arrested? You'll be able to walk since your plan is so bulletproof!

Roy: No, wait, don’t do that!

Jason: Go the fuck ahead asshole they'll believe us because we're young and you're old and dried up.

Oliver: That's it, I don't want you hanging out with him anymore!

Jason: He can hang out with whoever the fuck he wants bitch! So why don't you go to your room, pour your little Cognac, watch M.A.S.H and shut the fuck up!

Oliver, bursting into tears: I can't believe you!

Oliver runs off.

Jason: God that felt good. Wish I could say that to my dad.

Roy: Why don't you?

Jason: He'll probably write me out of the will.

Roy: Wow, huh... I think you broke him so yeah, I get that.

Jason: I did... Awesome.

Roy: Honestly, I appreciate that, but we should leave. He's going to be sobbing for a while.

Jason: And watching M.A.S.H?

Roy: ... It's not on tonight.

End of flashback

Jason: Man that was crazy times. Guess he hasn't forgotten about it.

Jason sighs happily.

Dick: Hm... You have to realize how that wasn't okay.

Jason: Yes, but I helped Roy when he was struggling and got that Oliver prick to get off his case. I am such a good person, you know?

Dick, chuckling: I don't disagree. At least you're not the only one Oliver dislikes.

Jason: Who else does he hate?

Dick: Bruce. Long story.

[sundrop-writes]

The Perfect Brat

Dom!Elle Greenaway x Dom!Fem!Reader x Sub!Spencer Reid

Summary:

Spencer acts up. You and Elle put him in his place. It’s an unconventional relationship, but it works so well.

Dom!Elle Greenaway x Dom!Fem!Reader x Sub!Spencer Reid. Co-Workers with Benefits. Smut/PWP. 

Word Count: 2,900

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is primarily a smut fic; reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; this could be read with or without considering the major canon events; dom/sub dynamics - Dom!Elle, Dom!Reader, Sub!Spencer (he is definitely more of a brat in this and I had so much fun writing it); implications of an ongoing poly relationship between the three of them; punishment and reward (Spencer is punished for being mouthy/talking back); size difference kink/reverse size kink (the reader loves how skinny and easy to toss around Spencer is); Spencer is spanked, Spencer is gagged with his own tie (the tie is also used like a leash on him); general rough play; Spencer calls the reader ‘Miss’; undertones of humiliation kink, mentions of subspace, mentions of pain kink, Spencer is called a whore, a slut a stupid brat;degradation kink (towards Spencer); mentions of paddling; mentions of jealousy; bondage - Spencer has his hands tied behind his back; Spencer wears a cockring; orgasm restriction (toward Spencer); Spencer is forced to watch while Elle fucks the reader with a strap-on (the reader is a bottom between Elle and the reader, but she still is 100% a dom in this); as mentioned - strap-on sex (Elle fucks the reader with a strap-on); crying kink (Spencer is pretty when he cries); mentions of pegging (from Elle toward Spencer); hair pulling (reader receiving); Elle is called 'Mistress’; the reader and Elle could both be considered mean in this. I hope that’s everything and I haven’t missed anything important.

A/N: the inspiration behind this is actually so funny. I was working on the second part of Lessons For A Genius and I literally thought to myself 'Spencer is too nice in this. he’s too well behaved’ - and then I started thinking about a fic where Spencer is a bratty sub and gets punished, and then in that scenario, Elle suddenly appeared in my head (I guess because Elle has such dom energy and she’s always bossing Spencer around in the show, this is just too real, they have so much chemistry) - and next thing I know I was opening another tab to write this because I couldn’t help myself. So I hope you guys enjoy it!! I would love to write more fics where Spencer is a bratty sub in the future. I just love writing sub!Spencer in general. (some people have asked me to write dom!Spencer and I am warming up to it very, very slowly.) anyway, please enjoy!

...

You were in the room for less than thirty seconds when Spencer’s pants were down. 

Usually, something like this occurred out of pure lust or need. Spencer was a very needy boy. It was rare that you felt this much annoyance building up inside of you. It was rare that you tore off his clothes out of anger. 

But he had mouthed off to you in front of the local cops, whining that you ‘weren’t his mother’ when you asked him how many cups of coffee he’d had that day and advised him to drink some water. It had been a sassy comeback that had several of the men in the room laughing, and at the time, Spencer had been grinning into that ill-advised seventh cup of coffee, thinking that you couldn’t see him. 

It was something that got a warm rage simmering inside of you. 

Generally, he had been the biggest kind of brat all day. He had been mouthing off, even going so far as to talk back to Hotch when given orders. And you weren’t taking too kindly to it. 

He had to know who was in charge. He had to know that you wouldn’t stand for him being a mouthy brat. 

The door to the hotel room had barely closed behind you before you had his belt undone, the heft of the leather causing the fabric of his slacks to drop to his ankles. This left him entirely exposed from the waist down, feeling a rush of vulnerability, knowing he was in trouble. His stomach clenched in anticipation. You weren’t entirely surprised to find that he wasn’t wearing underwear. He had been acting out all day because he was feeling needy, apparently. 

Before he could speak, only uttering out a few half hearted protests, you shoved him hard. He was so skinny, so easy to push around, it was almost laughable. You pushed him until you had him exactly where you wanted him - bent over the dresser in the middle of the room. It was a chest of drawers with an attached vanity mirror, forcing him to bend over it and brace his hands on the surface so he could look at himself in the mirror. 

So he could stare himself down and face all of his beautiful shame as you tore him apart. 

“Look, Miss, please-” He stuttered out. 

Clearly he was still trying to come back from this, still trying to grovel, trying to apologize. 

But it was too late for that. You had decided that during the car ride back. 

“Shut up.” You told him gruffly. 

You reached around his body to his front and grabbed his tie, slipping it slightly loose before you brought it partway up his head. He was confused by this, until you slipped the loop into his mouth, effectively gagging him. You then spun it so the length of the tie was at the back of his head. You tightened it harshly then, causing him to moan as the fabric scuffed sorely against the sides of his mouth. 

But that wasn’t all. 

You yanked back on the length of the tie as though it were a leash, pulling his tall body into a tense arch, forcing him to be exactly where you wanted him to be. He moaned deeply as a wave of pleasurable pain shot through his body, his back cracking slightly as you forced him into such an uncomfortable position. Your other hand was on his lower back, keeping his hips pinned against the edge of the dresser as you forced his neck back as far as it would go. 

His muscles quivered and tears easily came to his eyes. His cock throbbed harshly with all of it. He always needed to be put in his place. He needed his head to be emptied as the control was taken away from him - as he was owned wholly, his body and mind no longer his own. 

When you were sure that he would stay like this, the subspace setting in and making him slightly more compliant, you moved the hand on his lower back. This forced him to hold the position on his own, his legs becoming shaky - but he didn’t move to make himself more comfortable, which did cause you to grin. 

Then, you hauled your hand back, delivering a harsh spank across his bare ass cheek. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You bit out harshly. “I know I did not train you to be such a fucking brat.” 

You delivered another spank, his soft skin already turning red from your hits. Your palm was stinging slightly, but you didn’t care. It gave you a certain thrill, and it was worth teaching him a lesson if his ass was sore tomorrow and he remembered this. Usually not being able to sit right did help him remember to behave. 

All Spencer could do was moan in response, being very effectively gagged by his own tie. His cock was angry and hard, trapped between his pelvis and the edge of the dresser as you punished him. 

“You’re just a needy little whore, aren’t you?” 

You barked, pulling his neck back even harder. This caused him to whine out in pain, such a beautiful sound that had you dizzy with pleasure as your ego swelled. You pulled him closer to you and placed your lips close to his ear, hissing the next words near his cheek with malice. 

“What’s wrong? The needy slut doesn’t get enough attention?” 

“Come on, Y/N, take it easy on him,” Elle chuckled from the corner, taking a sip of her drink. 

She had ridden with Morgan, so she had made it to the room an easy five minutes before you and Reid had. And thus far, she had been heavily enjoying the show that the two of you were putting on. But she did think you were being a bit too rough considering that Reid was a bit lippy on a good day. 

“Oh, I need to take it easy?” You chuckled sarcastically, looking over your shoulder at her. 

You tossed your hold on the tie, letting Spencer’s body relax forward slightly while you assessed Elle. He let out a whimper of relief, but didn’t make any further noise to draw attention to himself - not wanting the two of you to gang up on him and make his punishment even worse. (The two of you were devious minds, and when you worked together, it was a beautiful kind of destruction.) 

Sitting there, Elle was smug as ever, staring you and Spencer down with a clear heat in her eyes. 

“Last time you paddled him, he couldn’t walk for a week.” You added on, bringing up the memory to try and prove your point. 

“He was flirting with that waitress, he deserved it.” Elle said, speaking as though it was the obvious thing in the world. 

Generally speaking, you weren’t even sure if Spencer knew how to flirt. You thought that for the most part he just didn’t know when other people were flirting with him and didn’t know when to deflect it to stop it from pissing you and Elle off. But you had enjoyed it too much to argue with Elle about it - his bright red ass and awkward gait for the week following that paddling had just been too good. 

You used the tie-leash and a tight hold on one of his hips to spin Spencer around, tossing him onto one of the double beds in the room. He landed roughly on his stomach with a light bounce. He let out a jagged moan as his exposed cock scraped against the cheap hotel bedspread. But - true to form, trying to prove that he was a good boy, he did nothing more than lay there, staying perfectly still where you had put him. 

Elle grinned at him before she looked back to you. 

“So, what do you think we should do with him?” You asked, putting a hand on Spencer’s shoulder to flip him over onto his back, presenting him to her like a filthy prize. 

Spencer whimpered quietly and blinked up at you and Elle with big, wet eyes, clearly thinking that the puppy dog look could get him some sympathy. But there was no chance of mercy. He had already made his bed, and he was going to get fucked in it.

“I have a few ideas.” Elle chuckled. 

… 

That was how Spencer ended up in his current position. 

He was sitting in the chair that Elle had previously been sitting in, stripped completely naked. A light sheen of sweat had formed over his skin, causing his hair to stick to his forehead in that beautifully desperate way. His hands were tied behind his back with his own belt, and a cockring was secured around the base of his needy, throbbing cock. 

There was no possible way for him to get relief. Even if he became so desperate as to hump the furniture, all that he would get was a fruitless, horrible dry orgasm. The cockring so tight around him definitely assured that. And with his hands tied behind his back, he couldn’t take it off. Especially not with the way the two of you were keeping a watchful eye on him. 

You and Elle certainly weren’t going to let him get away with anything. 

He certainly wasn’t going to get out of your line of sight. That was the whole point. 

The bulk of his punishment was to watch. 

To watch you and Elle and not be allowed to touch his needy, throbbing cock. To have a feast of sights before him, but be stuck, not allowed to cum. Not even allowed to feel the slightest bit of relief against his pathetic dick until you or Elle decided that he’d had enough. 

“Please.” Spencer begged hopelessly. 

His hips arched up into the air slightly, humping into nothing, fruitlessly seeking contact. His cock dribbled out precum, almost as if the pretty pink cockhead was weeping out in protest, trying to show his deep, unsatisfied need. 

“Please!” He bawled. “I’ll be a good boy! I promise!” 

His voice was so beautifully wrecked. It sent a wave of pleasurable tingles right through you. 

“Did you hear that?” Elle chuckled behind you. “He promises.” She cooed these words mockingly. 

Both of you knew that it wasn’t a promise he could keep for too long. 

Elle huffed out a devilish laugh as she raked the sharpness of her nails across your back. She sounded just as amused as you were watching Spencer’s pathetic attempts to get back on both your good sides. 

“I fucking doubt it.” You grunted back breathlessly. 

“If he wasn’t so pathetic, I might take pity on him.” Elle said, her voice taking on that mean edge that she knew Spencer loved. 

He moaned at the words, his hips flexing up once again. Unlike when he played poker, during sex, he always gave away all his cards, always showed what pleased him most and what his weakest spots were. It was one of the reasons you loved taking him apart so much. One of the reasons you loved owning him. 

“If you were a ‘good boy’, you’d shut up and watch me fuck your precious Miss without complaining,” Elle said, continuing to mock him, fucking her hips harder into you to drive home her point. 

She had you in the middle of the bed, perfectly on display for Spencer - on your hands and knees, completely stripped naked. The two of you were a perfect visual tease for him - with Elle in her bright red lacy bra, a commanding presence behind you with her thick seven inch strap-on buried in your wet, wanting pussy. You were absolutely enjoying yourself as she fucked in and out of you with an intense roughness. 

Most of the time, the two of you teamed up as a wicked force against Spencer - and combined, you were a deadly sinful team. But when the two of you took the time to enjoy pleasuring each other, it was a rough, chaotic slice of heaven. Like lighting clashing against itself in the best way. 

When you did let her fuck you, you weren’t whiny or submissive to her wills. You took it well, never begged for it. And she understood you and what you needed - the feeling of a thick cock splitting you open, that rough touch that Spencer never gave you because he was so subservient to your will. You loved the fact that she didn’t treat you like a glass doll. 

“Please!” Spencer tried again, going directly against Elle’s order to sit there and shut up. 

You weren’t sure if it was him playing up again or if he actually thought he could talk his way out of this somehow. 

“Please, let me touch you! Let me help you cum! Let me service you, Miss! I’ll be so good!” Spencer begged, his words dissolving into sobs as the desperation heightening within him. 

“What? You think you’re allowed to touch this pussy? You think you should be allowed?” Elle growled, fucking into you so hard that it caused a wet smacking to resonate through the room - something that made Spencer want you even more. 

You laughed in response to Spencer’s whiny antics, and the incredible fake cock plunging into you from behind - a sound that dissolved into a loud moan when Elle reached around and rubbed your clit, clearly wanting even more from you. 

Elle hammered her hips against you like she hated you, fucked into your pussy with a brutal passion. She was partially trying to show Spencer what he was missing out on, a deadly ache growing in his gut when he thought about the emptiness he felt without her perfect fake cock. Because he did spend a fair amount of time fucked out and drooling on her strap when she wanted to fuck him with it - from either end. 

And she was partially trying to get you to be messier, wetter, louder, putting on more of a show for him. The more beautiful and pornographic you were, the more effective his punishment was (not that it was hard for you to become a walking sex dream, as gorgeous as you naturally were). 

Elle loved to fuck you like this - she loved having your tight pussy hugging the silicone of her cock. You were a challenge. You didn’t simply beg for her cock, your body didn’t just mold and bend to her wills because she touched you with strong hands. You always fucked your hips back into her twice as hard, and you laughed and snarled back if she called you a dirty bitch. 

It was part of the reason that the two of you so perfectly destroyed someone as needy and submissive as Spencer. Spencer, the type of person who got whiny and started acting up if he didn’t get enough attention from either of you in the run of a day. 

“I’ll be good!” Spencer whined. “Please! Please, just touch me! I promise I won’t do it again!” 

His eyes had become as wet as his cock, the tip glistening with precum as tears dripped from the corners of his eyes, his entire being reeking of desperation and uncontained lust. 

“Do you even know what you did this time, you stupid brat?” Elle prodded, her voice dark and lacking any sweetness as she spat the words across the room at him. 

Spencer let out a wounded sound that was barely recognizable - perhaps he was trying to compose himself to speak, perhaps he was truly clueless. 

He could be so mouthy sometimes, but most of the time, he didn’t even recognize his sass as a problem. 

“What makes you think you’re worthy to touch her? What makes you think that you get to touch her after being such a dumb brat all day?” Elle teased him. 

She emphasized her words by yanking back on your hair, delivering a pleasurable amount of pain that made you moan out as she continued to harshly thrust her hips into your wet cunt. 

“What makes you think that a brat like you gets to touch these perfect tits?” Elle mocked him, leaning over you to grope roughly at your swaying breasts. Of course, just to show him what he couldn’t have and heavily enjoying your body in the process. 

You chuckled at this, enjoying the way Spencer’s features twisted up in displeasure. Clearly he was whiny, wanting so badly to touch you - but he hadn’t earned it. Not tonight. 

He let out a few more tears before he spoke again. 

“I’m sorry.” He sniffled quietly. “I’m a bad boy. I’ve been bad.” 

“Why?” You heaved out, breathless from Elle’s efforts. “Why are you bad?” 

“Good boys don’t talk back.” Spencer finally admitted, his voice weak with defeat. 

“Look, the genius finally figured it out.” Elle commented, beautiful condescension dripping through her voice. 

“Good!” You huffed, fucking your hips harshly back into Elle’s cock while you locked eyes with Spencer’s wet, glassy ones. “Now keep your whiny fuckin’ mouth shut while Mistress fucks me, and maybe - fuck - and maybe I won’t keep that cockring on you all day tomorrow.” 

Spencer whined harshly at this, but didn’t protest. Elle grinned, planting a kiss on the back of your neck before she dug her nails into your hips and fucked you faster.

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot, and there will not be a sequel or a continuation of it. If you enjoyed this, please comment about the body of work that has been written. If you want to see more Spencer fics that I have written, definitely check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or check out my other Masterlists to see if anything catches your eye.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter Map Twenty-Three

TW: noncon, shithead doctors, trauma, graphic medical descriptions

Your next shift at the hospital, you are understandably on edge. You have not seen Julian since the incident in the parking garage, and so much has happened since, you haven’t even had time to think about what you’re going to do.

Besides kick him in the junk again, if he gets handsy.

On your break, you make your way to the ICU. Washington is there, miraculously in stable condition. His wife is sitting with him, holding his hand. 

You give a little knock on the curtained off room walls, and peak your head in. “Hello.” 

She wipes some tears from her cheeks with the heel of her hand and motions you in. “Oh, sorry, any news from the doctor?” 

You pad timidly into the room, unsure of what to do with your body besides stand, awkward and uncomfortable, with your hands clasped in front of you because folding them across your chest would just seem too hostile. “No, I’m actually just here to see how you’re doing? How he’s doing?”

She gives you a hard look. “And who are you?” You don’t take it personally, only because this woman holds herself like someone who’s been through hell and back, and you respect her for staying strong. 

“Sorry. I’m y/n.” 

Her expression changes instantly. Apologetic, astonished, grateful—you think. “Oh my. Oh, I’m sorry. You saved my husband’s life.”

You take a page from Tom’s notebook of laissez-faire hero sayings. “I was just doing my job.” 

“Well, either way, thank you.” She gives you a little nod, then looks back at her husband’s swollen, perse face. “He’s alive because of you and the paramedics and the doctors and I owe you…” fat shiny globes roll down her face as her voice catches on sadness. It’s kind of just instinct—the urge to comfort another woman in distress, to hold the mourning mother or the distraught widow. You wrap her in your arms, and immediately she clings to you and soaks your scrub top with all the pent up agony inside of her. 

“It’s alright,” you say, rubbing her back in what you hope is a comforting touch. 

That’s how Tom finds you, and he’s past knocking at this point apparently. Barging in, as usual, like he owns the place, but you’re becoming more grateful than annoyed with these interruptions.

It’s stupid, to think that everything will be hunky dory between Tom and Washington’s wife. 

Because Linda’s jagged-spear stare immediately freezes the pushy cop in his tracks, and it’s kind of funny for a minute—to see Ludlow get nerfed by a tiny woman—until you realize she wants him tarred and feathered. 

“What you can do,” she spits, pointing her finger at him, “is get out.”

“Linda, please, hear me out.” He’s as soft with her as he is harsh with any man, and it makes your heart pop like a bloody balloon. “I-“

“No,” she tells him, “Get. Out.” 

You know Linda is a distraught wife, and you know she’s in emotional distress, and you know that she has every right to be upset, but you still find yourself looking at the back of her head like she kicked your puppy. Your big, nippy, sad eyed guard puppy…

So, what do you do? Defend Tom like every fight reaction in your body is screaming at you to do? Satiate Linda by saying nothing? Tom decides for you, thank God, and slips out through the curtain. 

“He’s got some nerve.” Linda shakes her head, then grabs back onto her partner's hand with a grip as strong as her confident attitude that you absolutely envy. 

You have thirty minutes, because you’re taking your break today whether hospital numbers suffer or not, and you sit with her for the entirety. Not saying much of anything, at first. Just silent. Because you have a feeling she needs someone right now, and even though you’re probably not the best companion, somebody is better than nobody. At least in situations like these.

Finally, she speaks. “They said it’s touch and go.”

“Oh,” you nod, because what do you say to something like that? What do you say to someone who’s real-time getting their heart crushed under the boot of unfair circumstances and injustice? “I’m so sorry, Linda.”

“He’s not dead yet,” she reminds both you and herself and, probably hoping he can hear her, Terrence, too. “He’s been through worse than this.”

Life. What a weird, fleeting thing. You can go through hell and survive, and then a little thing like a bullet wipes you from the earth just like that. You give Linda your number. “Call me if you need someone.” 

Tom’s not here, anymore… You wish he was.

***

Later in your shift, you receive a page to see Dr. Mercer in his office. Your heart makes a very good attempt at beating out of your chest, but you reason he can’t get up to anything too sinister, here at the hospital. 

Yeah, right. 

As you approach his door you start to sweat, your palms clammy, your face hot. Do not have a panic attack right now. Because it’s that easy, of course. You pause and close your eyes, steady yourself with a hand on the wall. You think of Tom, the way some people clutch rosary beads to gather strength, and only then do you feel properly prepared to tell Dr. Julian Mercer to fuck off, if you have to. 

You knock once before entering, and can’t help but think about him like a proper Bond villain now behind his big desk. All he’s missing is the snow-white ragdoll cat. Somehow, you can’t imagine him having a soft spot for an animal. 

“Close the door,” he tells you, his long fingers steepled before him. 

“I’d rather leave it open.”

“Not when you hear what I have to tell you, you won’t.”

With a long breath out of your nostrils you gird your proverbial loins, and shut the door. You do not stray far from it though; a thing he notices, and seems to find amusing. 

“Truce, y/n. I lost my head earlier. You make me…wild.” 

Naturally, it would be all your fault. 

“What do you want, Julian?” you demand, your patience paper thin. 

“I happened to be in surgery, the night your friend Detective Washington came in. I heard you saved his life.”

“Yeah, but…I don’t actually know him.” 

“But your boyfriend Tom Ludlow does.”

Your mouth opens to protest the label–then as you think on the past twenty-four hours, snaps shut. Things have moved like a bullet train with Tom, yet somehow, at their own perfect pace. Everything about that man just feels right, and as you hear his name in Julian’s poisoned mouth you feel as though someone just walked over your own grave. 

“What about it?”

“What if I told you…I excised a very interesting foreign object from Washington’s shoulder?”

He withdraws a small plastic baggie from his breast pocket, shaking it like a dog treat. From where you stand you can see it's something heavy, and silver colored. It kind of looks like lead. “One of these things is not like the others…” 

“I don’t follow?”

“I had a little visit from a fellow in LAPD’s Internal Affairs after patching Mr. Washington up. Sounds like Tom Ludlow has fallen under some suspicion, found in the place where someone attempted to murder the man possibly blowing the whistle on your boyfriend’s less than honorable conduct…what a debacle.”

The blood in your veins turns to ice. 

“Pretty sure Tom was in the store because of me,” you defend, even as you know your deflated tone belies your doubt. 

“Pretty sure will be a great defense in court at Ludlow’s attempted murder hearing.” He looks at the baggy in his hand again, the way some men will look at a lover. Satisfied. Anticipatory. Fond. Dr. Mercer certainly never looked at you that way. “I’m sure the jury will take that over the hard evidence I have in my hand here.”

“What is in your hand?” you demand, losing patience. You don’t entirely understand what’s going on here. Only that it must be bad. 

“This is the remnants of a .38 slug, of the kind many police officers favor in their throwdown. Do you know what a throwdown is, y/n?”

You press your lips, wanting with every fiber of your being to jump over the desk and strangle this man. 

Too bad he might like it. 

“No.” 

“It’s what cops call their extra gun. A little insurance, in case things get hairy on the street, and they have to get rid of a murder weapon. But Tom Ludlow doesn’t seem like the type who would carry something like that around, does he?”

You happen to know he does. You’d watched him strap it onto his ankle, as the two of you had gotten dressed, right before he drove you to work. 

Fuck. 

“And before you think that all you have to do is tell him to get rid of it, they have him on video in the store firing it.”

Double fuck. 

“What do you want, Julian?” You hate how small, how fragile, your voice sounds in that moment. 

He smiles at you the way the snake must have smiled at Eve. 

“Why, I want you, y/n.”

The tinnitus from your misadventure in the store seems to return with a vengeance, a ringing piercing through your ears. 

“Julian…” 

“I’m going to put this in the safe in my house. If you want it…you’re going to have to come convince me to give it to you. And sweetheart, I’m going to need a lot of convincing.” 

“Fuck you.” It comes out of your mouth before you can swallow the hateful phrase back down, and his smile only grows.

“Please, give me more reason to punish you,” he says, motioning for you to go on, to dig your hole deeper. 

Suddenly, a fond memory comes to mind. One where you smashed a flower pot over your ex’s head after his fist met your face. God, you wish you had a fucking flower pot right now. 

You try to set him on fire with pure willpower and the burning look in your eyes, give him a taste of his own medicine. See how he likes being burned alive. Sadly, he stays flameless. 

“Oh, come on,” he goads, leaning back in the swivel chair, “I’m sure that clever little tongue can come up with something.” 

“When?” You grit.

“Hmmm?” He asks, toying with the baggie in his long fingers. 

“When do you want me…to come and get it?”  

“You’re free next weekend.” It’s not a question. He’s passed niceties. Whatever Julian you get now is the one who wants to see you bloody and bruised. 

“Fine. What—what are you going to do to me?” 

He pops up from the chair, and you yelp, fling yourself back against the door with a hard thud, prepared for him to cross the room and show you what he’s planning. His fucked up grin widens, and he takes something from a drawer behind his desk. 

“Do you know what operant conditioning is?” He asks, coming around to perch himself on the front of his desk top. He has a small, round piece of plastic in his hand.

“No.” 

He presses into the side of his toy and you hear a little click at the same time he lunges forward, bringing himself halfway across the room and making you screech again. “Operant conditioning is voluntary behavior modification via reward and punishment. The voluntary behavior, in this case, is the sass that comes from that mouth of yours. And we’re going to work on changing the ‘fuck you’s’ to the ‘please, Julian’s’.”

“What’s the fidget toy for?” You ask, heart in your throat.

He shrugs. “I just wanted to keep you on your toes.” He clicks it again, and then moves forward, and you flinch back, trying futilely  to press yourself further into the wall. 

On the next click, you don’t need to see him move to cringe and twitch, your whole body aching to run, to move, to sprint far away from this awful man. 

“See?” He says. “You’re a fast learner. You’ll do just fine.”

You’re wrong. Very wrong. Have been this whole time. You’re not a woodland creature, and Julian is not a wolf. You’re a rat in a cage, and he’s the scientist appointed to experiment on you. 

“It could have been different between us,” he has the gall to say, reaching up to caress the curve of your cheek with his finger. You hate the way you flinch and tremble at his touch, but it’s like your joints have fused, refusing to move, refusing to carry you away from this bad man who wants to hurt you. “You’re the one who chose to make it this way.”

You know, you fucking know, in the logical part of your brain that he is gaslighting the shit out of you. But the little scared rabbit part of your brain, the part that is regrettably in charge right now, just nods its trembling head at Julian’s assertion. This is your fault. It could have been nice between you, if you hadn’t ruined everything the first night. He would have taken care of you. 

It’s bullshit, of course. This is the monster that was lurking beneath Julian’s pleasant mask all along. He would have shown you eventually–preferably while you were bound and gagged and couldn’t do anything about it. 

You have got to get out of here. 

You don’t know if it’s your voice, or Julian’s, that spurs you on, that gets you moving, even if just a millimeter at a time. 

“Leaving so soon?” asks Julian with a smirk, clearly amused by the way he terrifies you. He gets off on it, and god how you wish you could just knee him in the balls again. 

As he reaches out to touch you again you warn him, “If I scream your game is up. You want to turn this into a shitshow at work?”

This actually stays his hand. His professional image is important to him. You have to remember that. It might be the only real weapon you have against Julian. Maybe aside from Tom Ludlow–but you have a feeling Tom would do something horrible. Something that would get him into huge trouble, and that was exactly what you were trying to avoid. 

“That won’t stop me from turning over that little bag,” he warns you. 

“Maybe. But you’ll still wish your part in it had remained quiet. So let me the fuck go, until the weekend.” You sound tough, while your knees are positively knocking. 

Dangling the promise of a later playdate seems to appease the hungry monster before you. His chest rises and falls as he takes in a deep breath–smelling you, you realize. Smelling your fear.

“I look forward to it, y/n.” With a cordial wave he gestures towards the door, as though he’s just been a gracious host and you had a pleasant little chat in his office–psychopath. 

You sense that you’re safe for the moment, if only because he wants to savor it. You force your leaden feet to shuffle to the door. 

A sharp click makes you jump sky high with your hand on the door handle. You turn back with wide eyes, to find Julian with a diabolical smirk curving that well-made mouth. 

“Bastard,” you hiss, then flee before he can do anything else to you. 

You know he’ll make you pay for it, later. 

Later, when you have to go to his house to let him do dastardly things to you. 

Later, when you’re going to have to cheat on Tom. 

Somehow, that hurts you worse than anything you imagine Julian doing to you, and you have to duck into the bathroom to throw up, and cry.  

[lesinquietes]

Summary: You’re trying to recover from what happened, but it’s hard to forget; especially when you know he’ll be back for you one day. Your commutes home have never been so stressful.

Mean!Yandere!Shigaraki x Bimbo!Reader

⚠️ mdni. a splash of horror. dark content. degradation. exhibitionism. fingering. incel. misogyny. noncon. sexism. thoughts of death and dying. victim-blaming. voyeurism. yandere.

Previous l pls stop asking for a part 3 💕

You go straight to the cops upon fleeing from Shigaraki. You understand why he let you escape when the officers stifle chuckles. You don’t have anything but your word to support the bold accusation that the leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front is trying to rape you. Saying it aloud sounds more ridiculous than the way it echoes in your thoughts.

You check the forum. Crumbleking’s post was deleted days ago. The account he used is gone, too. Your Instagram yielded similar results.

At the very least, they believe that someone entered your apartment and assaulted you. His identity being Tomura Shigaraki is highly contested. They send someone over to investigate your home. Much to your chagrin, the officer returns with a clean report. According to his examination, nothing in the space was disturbed. There was no sign of a break and enter.

It’s funny. When you stumbled towards the window, desperate for safety, you recall knocking over a table and shattering the vase. If nothing was disturbed, did your assailant clean up the mess…?

You ration that he had to have, and your heart almost stops. He’s ballsy for that one. You suppose he’s confident in his plan to enact revenge on you. He considers himself invincible, and he damn well might be. But everyone has a weakness.

You’re not stupid enough to think this is over. You aren’t keen to relax now that you’ve alerted the authorities. Will the cops who laughed at you rush to your aid when he inevitably returns for a second try? Doubtful. You’re responsible for protecting yourself.

You submit a police report anyway. They don’t include a name for the suspect because they don’t buy your allegation. It’s enough to simply have the document on file.

You don’t return to your apartment that evening — at least, not by yourself. You explain what happened to a friend. She lives in a beautiful, isolated rural area, about an hour out of town; nevertheless, upon hearing your bad news she drives all the way to pick you up at the station. A stoic, shivering mess, she works to reassure you. Nothing works. Nothing is helpful. She takes you back to her house after grabbing some essentials at your place.

Entering your space felt foreign and uncomfortable. You found yourself jumping at the slightest creak. Nothing was familiar. And you were correct about the vase — someone cleaned it up.

The days following your attack involve negotiating a lease break with your landlord. Fortunately, you’ve lived here long enough to establish a solid rapport with him. He keeps your deposit for last month’s rent and permits you to leave by the end of the week. You do so discreetly.

Gradually, you transport your essentials into your car. On the last day of your lease, you hire movers to bring your larger furniture to a storage unit. You promise your friend it’ll only be for a few weeks, and you mean that — for her sake. Although she comprehends the risks, she still agreed to help you; nonetheless, you don’t believe she’ll be spared if Shigaraki discovers your location.

You quit your job. A new one isn’t difficult to find. It’s in a different city. If all goes well, you figure you’ll move into a nearby apartment and lay low.

The next week or so is quiet. You maintain awareness of your surroundings but nothing happens. It’s as though he’s biding his time… or maybe witnessing you walking on eggshells is precisely what he wants.

Shigaraki is a busy man. He doesn’t have the energy to spend haunting you, a civilian who once talked shit about him online. There are bigger fish to fry. According to him, he gets enough women at home, anyway. It’s likely that you’ll never see him again.

Oh, you poor, naive woman; so willing to believe the logical lies your nervous brain feeds you.

It’s six o’clock in the evening, two weeks after your encounter with the dust villain. You stand on the subway terminal and glare down the tracks. There are a few other people there with you. No one you recognize.

To get to your friend’s residence, you have to take the 2216 train to the very end, walk for fifteen minutes, and catch the bus. It’s a dreadful commute. You’re saving up to buy a used car. But until then, you’ll just have to deal with the time vampirism that comes with sneaking around.

Five minutes into your gruelling wait, the train squeals into the terminal, dim yellow lights flickering as it grinds to a jittery halt. Its doors jerk open with a soft ding. You enter the cabin. As usual, it’s crowded at this time of night. Everyone else is commuting home, too. They get on at the station right before yours, taking up all the seats and more than half the standing space.

You walk down a bit and stand between two men conversing with seated passengers. There’s a group of stylish women next to you, chattering eagerly about their evening plans, and a few scattered friends on the opposite side, dazed and distracted after a long work day. It’s compact, but not uncomfortable yet.

Your hand dips into your pocket. When your fingers don’t find what they’re looking for, you grimace. No earbuds. Great. You must have forgotten them at work.

The train stops at another terminal. More people shuffle on board. The trip commences.

You close your eyes and meditate. Honing in on your breathing, you feel the air entering and leaving your lungs. The sensation is serene. You sigh gingerly as the background noise lessens a bit. Sadly, your peace doesn’t last for long.

Something swipes across your butt. Your spine grows rigid. Accidents happen on packed subways, but that? That didn’t feel like a mistake. You hold your breath as you wait, positive your assailant will make a second move. He doesn’t keep you in suspense for long.

He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing the flesh tightly. You gasp. A swift, gloved hand covers your mouth. The textured fabric is rough against your skin.

“Shut the fuck up, you little slut.”

Your assailant’s familiar, raspy voice sends a chill through your entire body. Without a doubt, Tomura Shigaraki is behind you. You were a fool to believe he was gone for good. He had to return, didn’t he? If only to put you in your place.

“If you overreact, I’ll dust this entire cabin.” He warns. “Let me do what I want, and maybe you’ll get to leave alive.”

Why wouldn’t he kill you and everyone on this train? It’s not like you’re special. Once you’re dead, he’ll simply find another person to harass. And the people around you? No one significant. He’d probably garner a lot of attention if he committed mass murder.

But all the same, it’s impossible for you to understand the sick feelings he harbours for you in his heart, and the way they grow every time he sees you. It isn’t love. It isn’t lust. It’s a sensation that’s incomprehensibly sinister in its somber nature; a volatile melange of emotions that frightens even him. You have no idea the lengths he would go to for the sake of preserving your life; he’s not finished toying with you yet.

He releases your ass and uncovers your mouth. Securing a palm firmly to your hip, he slithers his other hand up your skirt. Slipping your panties aside, he finds your clit. His index fingers massages slow circles over your twitching nub, eliciting a delicious exhale.

He dreamed of this moment for weeks. He fantasized about bearing claim to you in public, where anyone can watch. He’s about to be the God of this world, isn’t he? He can do as he pleases, and to hell with the consequences. When he possesses rule, he’ll have you cockwarm him on his throne all day long. By that time, you’ll surely know your place beneath his muddy boot.

He teases the lips of your cunt with his sharp fingernail, gliding it gently over the edge of your small hole. He pinches your thigh when you attempt to press your legs together. He won’t let you deny him entry to what’s his.

“I’m wearing gloves that cancel out my quirk.” He mutters darkly. “But if you don’t cooperate, I’ll take them off and activate it right here.”

He twists your clit between his thumb and index finger. The horrifying thoughts causes a stray tear to drip down your cheek. You don’t want to imagine how that would feel.

“Sorry,” you whisper pathetically. “I-I will.”

Picking up the tone of your voice, the man next to you turns around. Shigaraki removes his hand from beneath your skirt and wraps both arms around your waist. He lifts a brow when the stranger acknowledges both of you. To him, it looks like you’re a couple commuting home together. He has no concept of what’s truly going on; that if you don’t obey, him, and everyone else on this train, will die. Ignorant, he smiles and returns to his trivial conversation.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up?” The villain growls viciously. “Second strike, whore.”

You understand that the third strike will be your last.

You glance over your shoulder. He’s wearing a black face mask to match a large, baggy sweater. Crimson irises leer at you menacingly. He has his hood pulled over a head of shaggy, unkempt hair. It’s no wonder he hasn’t been recognized; his signature traits — like the hand covering his face, or his pastel tresses — are hidden from sight.

Just as you’re drinking in his appearance, he’s basking in yours. You look even better than the photos you put up on your social media account. He managed to save a few before you deleted it. He stares at them when he’s fucking his hand to the notion of capturing and taming you. He cums the hardest to porn where women are nothing more than brain dead sex slaves; that’s what he envisions for you.

Of course, submissive bitches aren’t born obedient; they need to be whipped into shape. He thinks the fight you put up is the best part about the training process. When you’re unruly, it forces him to be crueller. He wonders when you’ll pick up on that. It doesn’t have to hurt if you simply comply.

As much as he’s intrigued to witness you up close, he’s pissed at you for wearing a skirt today. Don’t you know the meaning of decency? Anyone could have molested you on the train. It’s practically a cultural norm for cute women to get harassed during their commute. He’s going to teach your pussy who it belongs to. Then, next time you go to work m, you might think twice before wearing a garment that’s easy access.

You face forward, when he grasps your shoulders. Slowly, his hands slide down to your hands, stopping to give them an affectionate squeeze, in case there are curious voyeurs. He wants to make this look as organic as possible.

From behind, he lifts up your skirt and pulls your panties aside. The fabric bites into your flesh, no doubt giving you a rash on the crease of your crotch. He’s careless with his motions; this is all about him. Discomfort is a sensation you should become dearly acquainted with.

“Did you miss me?”

You bite your lower lip when his digits discover your clit. Your back arches as they map out the nub, teasing your hooded flesh to see what your pussy needs to drip. It doesn’t take much. You can’t distract yourself from his touches. There’s nothing stimulating; merely the backs of strangers who couldn’t save you if they tried.

Inwardly, you sob. You have no control. Even your own body is betraying you.

He dips a finger between your folds and hums when he discovers how wet you are. Running the length of his index finger along your clit, he snickers. He knew you were in denial. You must want him. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t get you to admit your desire by the end of your trip back to the Deika City.

“Feels like it.”

You frantically scope the sea of people. You’re between several, so you think you’re clear from view; then, you catch the eye of an older businessman. He’s staring directly at your crotch, where Shigaraki’s fingers are massaging your puffy clit. You bite the inside of your cheek. He knows what’s going on. You bet he’s been enjoying the show. You can’t count on a pig like him to save you.

You repress a sob, utterly humiliated. You haven’t felt this degraded in your life. You’re being groped by Japan’s most notorious villain while a lustful stranger observes.

“I bet you thought you got away from me, didn’t you?” He snarls. “Thought I’d forgotten about you.”

You’re too embarrassed to admit it. You fell right into his trap. Somehow, he knew you would lower your guard after a while. It’s precisely when you set it down completely that he struck. You’re either extremely predictable or he has incredible intuition.

He removes his hand from your underwear and brings it around to your chest. You feel your juices coat your skin and shudder. You can’t believe your body got wet for this disgusting motherfucker.

His nasty fingers claw at the buttons of your blouse. One of them pops off. It shoots diagonal, striking one of the windows. A passenger picks it up and glances around. You lock eyes with her. Instantly, she notices what’s going on. Unlike the businessman from earlier, however, you know she has the intention to act. It sparks a flame of hope in your heart.

A few men shift and shroud her from view. It’s probably for the best. Shigaraki’s digits locate your nipple soon after, dipping beneath your bra to pinch the responsive flesh. You stifle a shriek when his plucking becomes too much.

“I’m going to take you back with me and tie you up in the middle of our courtyard,” he whispers hoarsely, voice dripping with desire. “I’m sure some of our soldiers could use a bit of stress relief.”

You gag. You’ll die abused, beaten, starved, and dehydrated — a prisoner of war because you mouthed off on the Internet. This is so stupid.

Your captor groans softly as he withdraws his hand from your breast and slides a lithe finger past your folds, sheathing it up to his knuckle. He can tell it hurts. Your pain makes him enjoy it more. You stiffen and bite your lower lip.

The vehicle jolts to a halt again. The system announces that this is Jolicoeur Station, the second last stop on the line. That means you’re nearly there. He hums approvingly when the doors shut.

“Time’s almost up, whore.”

You don’t know what the fuck that means. Is he going to kill you or bring you to his base? Only time will tell, you suppose. For now, you want his sharp fingernail away from your cervix. You wriggle, praying he’ll at least stop jiggling it around. It isn’t long until he does, though he makes it clear he withdrew if his own volition; he can’t have you thinking you have a modicum of power over him, can he?

He’ll treat you like you’re nothing — a lifetime of serving him will drill that into your pretty head. He’ll never let you understand your real worth again when you’re under his brutal care. Beneath his boot is where you’ll remain.

The train lunges to another ungrateful stop. Your heart drops. This is it — the end of the line. Shigaraki touches you with both hands from behind, drumming his clothed fingers atop your shoulders.

“When the doors open, walk.” He instructs you. “We’ll pretend we’re a couple.”

You want to throw up. He’s forcing you to act like his lover after playing with you against your will. You’ll be damned if you go down without a fight. If you see an opening to ditch him, you’re going to take it; to hell with considering the consequences of being caught a third time.

He smooths your clothes out from how he rumpled them. He figures it’ll seem more natural if you appear relatively put together. He fixes your blouse and then moved to your skirt. To onlookers, it’s probably cute — a boyfriend tending to his girlfriend. They have no idea about the undertones of his treatment.

As if on cue, the woman from earlier coaxes your gaze back to hers. She licks her lips and reaches for the emergency switch. Your mouth opens. You know what she’s trying to do. It’s perfect. He won’t expect it because he thinks he’s in the clear.

You nod once. She takes that as your signal to proceed. With a visible grunt, she yanks the switch down. Reprieve floods your chest as soon as you hear the alarm.

You have to go.

Now.

The doors of the train freeze. In a panic, everyone races out of the car. You follow suit. The second you sense his grip slacken, you bolt. As you scurry off the car, you feel Shigaraki’s greedy hand reach for you — gloveless. You scream. Your voice blends in with the rest of the cacophony, shielding you from unwanted attention.

You glance over your shoulder. Everything around you slows down. He’s standing in the sea of people, still and glaring. His hood is pulled down and his mask is hanging off one ear. His scarred lips are contorted in a grimace.

For a brief moment, an understanding is met. Today, both of you learned that the other is not to be underestimated. After this little stunt, you’re his main priority. He hopes you’re prepared to take this game just as seriously, because he won’t stop pursuing you unless he’s killed. And he knows that won’t happen anytime soon.

You turn away from him and finish your flight. Like last time, he permits you to escape. He stays glued in place until nearly everyone else has left the terminal; then, he departs.

You have no idea the demons you’ve awakened inside him.

[dianawinchester03]

Season 1, Episode 17 - Hell House

Series Masterlist

Third Person POV

Dean is driving down Interstate 35, Y/N is fast asleep in the back seat after beating Sam in rock paper scissors for it, while Sam is fast asleep in the passenger seat with his mouth open. Dean smirks mischievously at the two, taking up an old spoon he found in the car and shoving it in Sams mouth gently.

Then taking a pen from his jacket pocket, and gently shoving it in Y/N's nose. He smiles proudly, flipping open his phone to take a picture of Sam and then one of Y/N. He then turns the radio up that's playing Fire of an Unknown Origin by Blue Oysters Cult. "A FIRE OF UNKNOWN ORIGIN TOOK MY BABY AWAY!!" Dean sings along loudly, drumming along to the beat in the steering wheel.

Sam jumps awake along with Y/N, panicking when he feels something foreign in his mouth, spitting the spoon out. "What the fuck!?" Y/N yells, startled when she feels something foreign in her nose, pulling the pen that's stuck in her nose out. Sam wipes his mouth as Y/N rubs her nose.

"Ha-ha, very funny" Sam says dryly as Dean chuckles, laughing hysterically. "Sorry. Not a lot of scenery here in east Texas. Kinda gotta make your own" Dean chuckles. "And my nose has to suffer for your boredom" Y/N scoffs, rubbing her nose. Dean smiles at her through the rearview mirror as she rubs her nose like a puppy. His heart flutters at how cute she looks.

"Man, we're not kids anymore, Dean. We're not gonna start that crap up again" Sam says annoyed. "Start what up?" Dean feigns confusion. "That prank stuff. It's stupid and always escalates" Sam snaps. Y/N chuckles a bit at a memory, "Awww what's the matter, Sammy. You afraid you're gonna get a little Nair in your shampoo again, huh?" Y/N teases her best friend.

Dean laughs hysterically at the memory of a bald soapy hair 13 year old Sam, running out of the bathroom, butt ass naked, screaming in terror like he's in a horror movie after Y/N put Nair in his shampoo because he made cookies and replaced the sugar with salt, then offered it to a innocent Y/N. She's the way with cookies, the way Dean is with pie. You don't mess with her cookies. "Alright. Just remember, you two started it" Sam challenges.

"Oh no no noooo. I am not getting involved in your weird sibling rivalry. I always get caught in the middle of it. No thank you." Y/N protests, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest Dean smirks at her through the rearview mirror. "Wuss" He snickers and Y/N glares at him, flipping him off. "Bring it on baldy" Dean chuckles looking at Sam. "Where are we, anyway?" Sam asks him.

"Few hours outside of Richardson" Dean tells him. "Give us the lowdown again" Y/N asks Sam to explain the case they were working. Sam pulls out his file, "Alright, about a month or two ago, this group of kids go poking around this local haunted house-" Sam explains but Dean cuts him off to ask. "Haunted by what?" He asks.

"Apparently, a pretty misogynistic spirit" Sam responds and Y/N groans. "Just wonderful" She mutters sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Legend goes, it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters. Anyway, this ground of kids see this dead girl hanging in the cellar." Sam continues. "Anybody ID the corpse?" Y/N asks, leaning forward in the backseats between the boys.

"Well, that's the thing. By the time the cops got there, the body was gone. Some cops say the kids were just yanking chains" Sam tells them and their eyebrows shoot up at this. "Maybe the cops are right" Dean suggests. "Maybe, but I read a couple of the kids firsthand accounts. They seem pretty sincere" Sam says. "Where did you read these accounts?" Y/N asks him curiously.

He chuckles lightly, a bit ashamed to answer her question, "Well, I knew we were gonna be passing through Texas to go to Y/N's safehouse. So, uh, last night, I surfed some local...paranormal websites. And I found one" Sam says lowly. Dean smirks as Y/N shakes her head, knowing what this might mean. "And what's it called?" Dean asks his brother. Sam chuckles again before sheepishly answering,

"HellHoundsLair.com". Dean scoffs laughing as Y/N chuckles, "Let me guess, streaming live out of moms basement" She jokes, making both boys erupt loudly with laughter. "Yeah, probably" Sam agrees laughing. "Most of those websites wouldn't know what a ghost was if it hit 'em in the 'persqueeter'" Dean chuckles. "Look, we let our dads take off, which was a mistake, by the way. And now we don't know where the hell they are, so in the meantime, we gotta find ourselves something to hunt" Sam suggests.

"You're right I guess. There's no harm checking this thing out" Y/N shrugs agreeing. Dean sighs, "Alright, so where do we find these kids?" He gives in. "Same place you always find kids in a town like this" Sam says as if it was obvious.

________________________________

Richardson, Texas

A couple hours later, the trio pulls into the parking lot of the local diner by the name of Rodeo Drive to question the teens from the police report.

Boy 1: "It was the scariest thing I ever saw in my life. I swear to God."

Boy 2: "From the moment we walked in. The walls were painted black"

Boy 1: "Red."

Girl: "I think it was blood"

Boy 1: "All these freaky symbols"

Boy 2: "Crosses and stars, and.."

Boy 1: "Pentagons"

Boy 2: "Pentecostals"

Girl: "Whatever. I had my eyes closed the whole time"

Boy 1: "But I can damn sure tell you this much: No matter what anybody else says-"

Girl: "That poor girl"

Boy 2: "With the black..."

Boy 1: "Blonde.."

Girl: "Red hair, just hanging there"

Boy 1: "Kicking"

Boy 2: "Without even moving"

Girl: "She was real"

Boy 1: "It's 100%"

Boy 2: "And kind of hot...well you know in a dead sort of way"

"Okay!" Y/N exclaims, chuckling a bit awkwardly. Disgusted by the last comment. She and the boys, sitting across from the three teenagers in the diner. "And how did you find out about this place, anyway?" Sam asks them, the trio confused by the inconsistencies in the stories.

"Craig took us" The three teenagers respond in unison as the three hunters share a look.

________________________________

The three hunters enter the record store after asking where the Craig guy could be found. "Gentlemen and Lady. Can I help you with anything?" A young man working in the store asks them, carrying a box of records to the register. "Yeah, are you Craig Thurston?" Sam asks him.

"I am" The young man confirms. "Well, we're reporters with The Dallas Morning News. I'm Dean, this is Sam and Y/N" Dean lies on spot, covering as reporters. "No way. Yeah, I'm a writer too. I write for my schools lit magazine" Craig chuckles, boasting a bit. "Ahh, well good for your Morrissey" Y/N jokes, Dean snorts at the reference.

"Um, we're doing an article on local hauntings and rumor has it, you might know about one" Sam says casually and Craig's face drops. "You mean the Hell House?" He asks them. "That's the one" Dean says smiling. "I didn't think there was anything to the story" Craig says. "Why don't you tell us the story, hun" Y/N says sweetly. Craig puts the record in his hand down and sighs.

"Well, supposedly back in the 30s, this farmer, Mordechai Murdock, used to live in the house with his six daughters. It was during the Depression, his crops were failing, he didn't have enough money to even feed his own children" Craig explains, sighing. "So I guess that's when he went off the deep end. "How?" Sam asks curiously as Dean checks out the records.

"Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quick, rather than starve to death. So he attacked them." Craig further explains, the three hunters listening intently. "And they screamed, begged for him to stop but....he just strung em up, one after another. And then when it was all finished. He turned around and hung himself" Craig finishes.

"Now they said that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside" He adds. "And where did you hear all this?" Y/N asks him, cocking her eyebrow. "My cousin Dana told me. I don't know where she heard it from...You gotta realize. I didn't believe this for a second." Craig defends.

"But now you do" Sam says. "I don't know what the hell to think man" Craig responds lowly. "You guys, I'll tell you exactly what I told the police, okay? That girl was real, alright? She was dead. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don't wanna go anywhere near that house ever again, okay?" He assures them fearfully.

Y/N cocks her eyebrow at his claims. Not fully convinced but she decided to go with it. They share a look before turning back to him, "Thanks" Dean says gratefully and they all leave the store.

________________________________

Later the boys and Y/N ask around and found the location of, Hell House. Now walking down the path to the abandoned house. "Can't say I blame the kid" Sam says. "Yeah, so much for curb appeal" Dean agrees. Sam and Y/N walk around the side investigating while Dean pulls out his EMF that begins to make some noise.

"You got something?" Y/N asks him. "Yeah, but the EMFs no good" Dean responds, tapping it. "Why?" Sam asks confused. "I think that things still got a little juice in it. It's screwing with all the readings" Dean says, pointing to the power lines. "Yeah, that would do it" Sam says, looking up at it. "Yeah" Y/N sighs and Dean turns to her.

"What about you?" He asks her. "Huh?" She says confused. "You know....your whole ESP thing" He says, pointing to his head and she rolls her eyes. "1, I'm not ESP." She says firmly making him chuckle. "And 2, I actually don't feel anything" She says, crunching her eyebrows.

Knowing normally she feels a heaviness around areas where people have died violently, etc. "Really? No, 'I see dead people'? What about you, Sammy?" He smirks, teasing the two, now turning to his brother who is glaring at him. Y/N shoved him lightly making him laugh loudly. "Come on. Let's go" Y/N ushers the boys towards the house, them following behind.

Dean whistles lowly as they close the door behind them at the state of the house. It was completely trashed, most likely by stupid teenagers. With a bunch of weird symbols all over the room. "Looks like old man Murdock was a bit of a tagger during his time" Dean says, his eyes on the reverse cross painted on the wall.

Y/N notices that some of the symbols are relatively new. "And after his time too" She says, nudging Sam. "The reverse cross has been used by Satanists for centuries" He says pointing to cross. "But this Sigil of Sulfer didn't show up in San Francisco until the 60s" Sam finishes pointing the Sigil.

Dean stares at his brothers blankly, "This is exactly why you never get laid" He deadpans while Sam rolls his eyes, taking a picture of the sigil. "Hey! I get laid" Y/N says defensively. "Yeah, because you're hot. Sam's not" Dean blurts out, shocking the Sam and Y/N, their mouths agape. Only realizing what he said, after it escaped his lips. "You think I'm hot?" Y/N smirks, her tone teasing.

Dean freezes in his tracks as he was walking to the other side of the room. He looks back at the two, Sam with a smug grin on his face, wiggling his eyebrows at his elder brother suggestively, making mock kissy faces in Deans direction. Y/N with her arms crossed over her chest, an amused grin on her face, her back turnt to Sam, so she's oblivious at what Sam's mocking.

Dean clears his throat and gulps. Heat rising to his face. His eyes shifting between his bratty brother and even the brattier women he's in love with. "I- Shut up and work the case!" Dean retorts lamely as the two best friends burst out laughing. Y/N's heart skips a beat at the fact that she's sure now that Dean finds her attractive. Dean then notices a weird looking symbol on the wall, "What about this one. You seen this one before?" Dean asks them, tilting his head a bit to look at the symbol.

The symbol looking somewhat familiar. It was practically an upside down question mark with three lines going out the side of the dot. One on top and two on each sides. Y/N walks next to him and tilts her head also to look at it. "Nope" Sam responds, taking a picture of it. "I have...Somewhere" Dean says in recognition. "Yeah...me too. I don't know where" She agrees.

Y/N then leans forward to touch the symbol, the color of the paint staining her fingers. "It's paint" She informs them, showing them her stained finger. "Seems pretty fresh too" Sam points out. "I don't know, guys" Dean sighs. "I mean, I hate to agree with authority figures of any kind...but the cops might be right on this one" Dean says.

"Yeah, maybe" Y/N agrees. The suddenly, they hear rustling in a nearby room. They share a look before going to the door and pressing up against it on either side, Y/N next to Dean and Sam on the other side. They all nod before bursting in, only to be startled by lights shining in their faces by two guys, Ed and Harry, screaming in fear.

One with a camera and one with a bright studio light. "What the.." Y/N mutters as they all share confused looks on their faces. "Cut. Just a couple of humans" Ed scoffs as Harry switches the camera off. "What are you guys doing here?" He asks the boys annoyed, his eyes settling on Y/N, looking like he's practically in love. "What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asks them, just as annoyed.

Ed clears his throat, his eyes shifting back over to Dean, "We belong here. We're professionals" says cockily, shrugging as if it's obvious. Y/N cocks her eyebrow at this, "Professional what?" She asks them. A smirk rises on Ed's face, "Paranormal investigators" He boasts, pulling out three business, handing it to her. "There you go. Take a look for yourself, gorgeous" He winks at her.

She rolls her eyes, taking the cards from him. Dean glares daggers at Ed, his nostrils flaring. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me" Dean groans as he looks at the business card Y/N handed him and Sam. "Jesus Christ" Y/N groans in annoyance. "Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler. HellHoundsLair.com" Sam looks up as them. "You guys run that website?" Y/N asks them.

"Sure do, gorgeous." He winks at her again and she cringes. "What? Was Venkman and Stantz taken?" She retorts snidely, making them glare at her, a cheeky smile taking over her face. "Oh, yeah, yeah. We're huge fans" Dean says sarcastically, going over to the cabinet, rummaging through it. "And uh, we know who you guys are too" Ed says. "Oh, yeah?" Sam responds as Ed clears his throat cockily.

"Amateurs. Looking for ghosts and cheap thrills. Yeah" He says. The three hunters hold back a laugh at his cocky nature, sharing a look that says 'get a load of this guy'. "So, if you guys don't mind, we're trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here" Harry finally chimes in. Their amused faces don't falter.

"Yeah? What do you got so far?" Dean asks them snidely. "Harry, why don't you tell them about EMF?" Ed says. Y/N decides to have a little fun with this, "EMF? What's that?" She feigns confusion, scrunching her eyebrows. Dean chuckles lightly at this, shaking his head. "Electromagnetic field" Harry responds smugly.

Turning around to go into his bag to grab his EMF. Sam has a small grin on his face. He and Y/N share an amused look as they begin to explain, "Spectral entities can cause entertainment fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector. Like this bad boy right here" Harry shows them the EMF that begins going crazy.

"Whoa. Whoa. That's 2.8 MG" Harry points out. Dean and Y/N glance at each other, holding back snickers. "2.8!" Ed exclaims as Dean whistles lowly. "Wow" Sam says in a fake impressed tone. "Huh. So have you guys ever really seen a ghost before or...?" Dean asks them, putting on a curious face as Ed takes the EMF off.

"Once" Ed responds, turning to him. "We were uh investigating this old house..." He begins to explain taking a deep breath. Dean crosses his arms over his chest nodding as if he's shocked. "...and we saw a case fall right off the table" He finishes. "By itself" Harry adds in a low tone, "But we didn't actually see it...but we heard it" Ed explains, Dean looks down shaking his head in disgust.

Sam and Y/N roll their eyes. "And something like that...it changes you" Ed whispers. "Yeah, I think I get the picture" Dean says nodding, walking back to Sam and Y/N. "We should go, let them get back to work" Y/N adds sarcastically. Ed flashes her a wink. "Yeah, you two should go." He says to Sam and Dean. "You could stay, gorgeous" He grins widely at Y/N.

Deans head snaps in his direction, his jaw clenching. A laugh bubbles in Y/N's throat, amused at the fact that Ed thinks he has a shot, "Never gonna happen" She laughs at his lame flirting walking out the door, the boys following behind her. Ed's eyes fall to her hips as we walks away, trailing down. As she walks out, she gets the sense that Ed was staring at her ass, which he was.

"Stop staring at my ass, Venkman!" She shouts, making Sam and Dean laugh. Deans genuinely relieved at the fact that she wasn't into Ed, not that she would be. But the sight of Ed flirting with her just amped up and fueled his jealously.

I need to get laid and get these thoughts out of my head. Dean thinks to himself.

Yeah, sure. Like that's gonna help.

________________________________

Sam and Y/N walk out of the Colin County Public Library, "Hey" They hail Dean. "Hey, what do you guys got?" He asks them. "Well, we couldn't find a Mordechai, but we did find a Martin Murdock who lived in that house in the 30s" Y/N explains. "He did have children's but only two of them. Both boys. And there's not record he every killed anyone" Sam adds.

"What about you?" She asks Dean. "Well, those kids didn't really give a clear description of that dead girl. I did hit up the police station. No matching missing persons. It's like she never existed" Dean tells them what he found. "Guys, come on. We did our digging. This one's a busy" He says to them.

Y/N sighs, agreeing. "For all we know, those Hellhound dorks made up the whole thing" She says. Sam sighs, "Yeah, alright." Dean says. "I say we find ourselves a bar and some beers and leave the legend for the locals" Dean suggest, giving Y/N a wink before jumping into the Impala. "Amen to that" She laughs, jumping in shotgun.

As they jump in, Sam has a devious smirk on his face. Dean then starts the car, Sam leans down to see their reactions and instantly salsa music starts blurring from the radio and the wipers on the windshield start moving, scaring the crap out of him and Y/N. "WOAH!" Dean yells turning off the wipers. "DAMMIT!" Y/N screams, quickly turning the radio off.

They hear Sam laughing as he jumps in the backseat. He licks his finger, putting up a one and pointing to himself with a smug look on his face and they glare at him. "That's all you got? It's weak" Dean scoffs as Sam laughs, closing the door. "That is bush league dude" Y/N adds as rolls her eyes.

________________________________

Y/N's POV

The next day, the boys and I find out that there was a dead girl found this time in the Murdock house. Police are currently taking pictures and reports of the incident as we're walking towards it. "What happened?" Dean asks a man who was at the scene. "Cops say that poor girl hung herself in the house" He tells us.

"Suicide?" I ask him shocked. "Yeah. And she was a straight A student with a full ride to UT too. It just don't make sense" He says sadly before walking away. "What do you guys think?" Sam asks us as they're wheeling the body out. Dean turns and looks at us, "I think maybe we missed something" He says.

Later that night, the three of us are crouched behind a bush, waiting for the police to leave so we can go investigate again. But they haven't left yet which is strange. "I guess the cops don't want anymore kids screwing around in there" Sam huffs. "Yeah, but we still gotta get in there" Dean says. I then hear some whisper not too far from us.

I turn my head to see Ed and Harry with their geek equipment, trudging through the woods. "I don't believe it" I groan, rolling my eyes. Sam and Dean turn their heads also. "Those idiots are gonna get themselves killed" Sam grumbles. "I got an idea" Dean says, getting up slowly, he cups his hand to his mouth and yells loudly.

"Who you gonna call?!" I bite back a laugh at his Ghostbusters reference. "Hey, you!" A police officer spots Ed and Harry. They panic when they see the officers, "Freeze!" The officer yell, running after them. They begin running away, their equipment partially slowing them down. "Get back here!" They yell at them.

"Come on, don't leave me here!" I hear Ed plead with Harry who's running quicker than him. They boys and I take the clearing to run into the house quickly through the backdoor without them noticing, we shut the door behind us. Sam drops the bag, taking out three rocksalt shotguns, handing one each to me and Dean.

We cock our guns as I shine my flashlight around the house. The light lands on the symbol and I try to remember where I've seen it. "Where have I seen that symbol before." I grumble as I point my flashlight to it. "I know right, it's killing me!" He exclaims. "Come on, we don't have much time" Sam says to us.

We nod and move towards the next room. Walking down into the basement, Dean goes up to a shelf that has a bunch of jars with a weird looking red liquid inside as Sam and I check out the other side. Picking it up, he smirks, "Hey guys, I dare each of you to take a swig of this" Dean says to us, we look at him like he's crazy. "What the hell would we do that for?" Sam cocks his eyebrow.

"I double dare you" He smiles, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I give him a blank stare and shake my head. We then hear creaking by a nearby cabinet, giving each other a look. Me and Dean cock our guns at the door as Sam moves next to it, on the count of three. He quickly opens it and some rats run out squealing.

I grimace as Sam laughs and Dean shudders in disgust, "Ugh. I hate rats" He groans. "You'd rather it was a ghost?" I ask him chuckling. "Yes" He says and I shake my head smiling. Then suddenly I feel the familiar chill run up the back of my neck and I turn my head quickly to see the shadow of a man in a cowboy hat, his wrists slit, holding an axe, ready to chop me.

"Fellas!" I scream, ducking before he can chop me and the boys spin around in an instant, shooting him but he doesn't budge. Disapparating into a black smoke "What the hell kind of spirit is immune to rocksalt?!" Sam yells. "I don't know" Me and Dean respond. "Come on, come on, come on" I grab them to run out of the room.

But the spirit destroyed the shelf of jars and it topples onto me and Dean, throwing us to the ground. The spirit tries to hit Sam but he breaks with his shot gun, "Go! Get out of here!" He yells at me and Dean. Then kicking Murdock in his stomach, we all run up the stairs and bolt for the front door that was board up.

We all crash our bodies through it, breaking it on impact, we fall off the porch and through the police tape. When we get up, we see Ed and Harry with their cameras, "Get that damn thing out of my face!" I yell at them angrily, shoving Ed roughly. "Go, go, go!" Sam shouts. "Get out of here!" Dean shouts at them warningly as we make a break for the Impala.

________________________________

After fleeing for our lives, we are back at the motel. The next morning after getting some rest, Dean is on his bed with his sketch pad, doodling, while Sam and I are at the table doing research. "What the hell is this symbol. It's bugging the hell out of me" Dean says frustrated. "This whole damn jobs bugging me" I agree with him, shaking my head, already fed up.

"Tell me about it, I thought the legend said that Mordechai only goes after chicks." He says. "It does" Sam says. Dean nods, twirling his pen in his finger. "Alright, I mean that explains why he went after you and Y/N. But why me?" Dean mutters, scratching his head. I snort a bit at his burn and Sam's eyes snap over to Dean, glaring at him.

"Hilarious" Sam deadpans. "The legend also says he hung himself. But did you guys see those slit wrists?" I ask them. "Yeah" Dean responds. "What's up with that? And the axe too" Sam points out. "Ghosts are usually pretty strict. Following the patterns over and over" I add as I scroll on the HellHounds website.

"But this mook keeps changing" Dean says. "Exactly" Sam sighs, handing me the book he was reading. I take it from him and hand him the laptop. He then begins scrolling on the website as he rubs his eyes from exhaustion. "Im telling you. The way the story goes...wait a minute" Sam goes to say but pauses, turning the laptop to me as he's found something.

"What?" Dean asks him from his bed. My eyes cork up as I quickly read the new post. "Someone added a new posting to the hellhound website" I tell Dean. "Listen to this: 'They say Mordechai Murdock was really a satanist who chopped up his victims with an axe before spitting his own wrists. Now he's imprisoned in a house for eternity" Sam reads the article out loud.

"Where the hell is this going?" I mutter. "I have no idea" Sam mutters back. "I don't know. But I think I might have just figured out where it all started" Dean says, pointing to his doodle of the symbol. He gives us a smug smile before getting up and grabbing his jacket.

________________________________

We all enter the record shop we were at earlier after Dean explained to us what he figured out. I gotta give it to him, he's smarter than he makes himself out to be. "Hey Craig, you remember us?" Dean calls out to Craig as we enter. From his body language alone I could tell he was annoyed. "Guys, look. I'm really not in the mood to answer any more of your questions, okay?" He says exasperated.

"Oh don't worry, hun. We're just here to buy an album, that's all" I tell him and he sighs relieved turning back. I give Dean a look and he smiles at me as I shuffle through the records and hand him the Blue Oyster Cult album. "You know, I couldn't figure out what that symbol was. And then I realized it doesn't mean anything" Dean says with a smug tone as we walk towards Craig.

"It's the logo for Blue Oyster Cult" Dean calls him out on his bullshit. Craig freezes, instantly giving himself away. "So tell me Craig, you into BOC or just scaring the hell out of people" I narrow my eyes at him and Dean hands him the album which he takes. "Now why don't you tell us about that house. Without lying through your ass this time" I say in a snarky tone.

I could see a smirk rise on Deans face at the corner of my eyes as Craig sighs heavily. Panicking. "Alright. I- My cousin Dana was on break from TCU. I guess we were just bored, looking for something to do. So I showed her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be funny if we made it look like it was haunted. So we painted symbols on the walls. Some from some albums. Some from some of Dana's theology textbooks." He begins to explains.

"Then we found out this guy, Murdock, used to live there. So we-" He pauses, taking a deep breath. "So we, made up some story to go along with that. So they told people who told other people. And then these two guys put it on their stupid website" He adds rolling his eyes as we listen intently. "Everything just...took on a life of its own. I mean. I thought it was funny at first, but...now that girls dead" He says, absolutely horrified.

I sympathize with him because he's a stupid kid that didn't know any better and was just looking for a kick. They don't know about what's out there but at the same time. It created a mess. "It was just a jokes. You know, I mean, none of it was real. We made the whole thing up. I swear" He stresses, tears forming in his eyes.

The boys and I nod understandably as he sniffles back his tears, "Alright. Thanks" I say to him calmly, offering him a small smile which he returns lightly. The boys and I turn to walk off, "If none of it was real, how the hell do you explain Mordechai?" Dean questions as he walk out. Me and Sam sigh, shrugging. Absolutely stumped.

________________________________

Later, me and Sam are at the motel room while he's taking a shower, I'm by the window smoking a cigarette, waiting for him to finish so I can shower. Dean walks in and throws his keys on the table, a mischievous look on his face. "Hey Princess" He smiles at me, closing the door behind him. "Hey charming..." I cock my eyebrow suspiciously as he pulls out a little familiar looking baggy.

His head pans over to me slowly, before bringing a finger to his lips, "Shhh" He shushes me with a smirk on his face. I shake my head as I take I drag from my cigarette, chuckling lightly. "Hey I'm back!" Dean announces his arrival to Sam as he rips the bag open. "Hey! Where were you?" Sam asks him from the shower.

"Oh I went out!" Dean responds as he throws the itching powder all over Sam's pants and boxers. "Seriously dude. Itching powder?" I grumble at him, dusting my ash into the ashtray. He just winks at me. "Game on, sweetheart" He whispers back, a smirk on his face, blowing me a kiss. I roll my eyes chuckling. "So me and Y/N may have a theory about what's going on!" Sam says from the shower.

"Oh yeah?" Dean questions, still throwing the powder on Sams clothes. ""Yeah, what if Mordechai is a Tulpa?" I suggest. "Tulpa?" Dean questions. Sam then opens the door, walking out from the shower as Dean quickly hides the powder in his powder. "Yeah, a Tibetan thought form" Sam says as he walks out of the shower, naked from the waist up, a towel around his waist.

Dean scratches his head, trying to mask his mischievous actions. I shake my head, holding back a snicker as I crush my cigarette in the tray. "Yeah, no, I know what a tulpa is...Hey, why don't you get dressed. Me and Y/N can go grab something to eat" Dean says quickly, pulling me by my hand before I can protest.

He grabs my leather jacket before giving Sam a cheeky smile, closing the door behind us. "He's gonna kill you" I snicker as he helps me put my jacket on, pulling my hair out from behind it. He smiles at me, flashing me a wink. "Wait till you see what I got in store for later" He brags, I just roll my eyes chuckling. "Boys" I scoff.

________________________________

Third Person POV

They're all now at a diner in town, "There you go, love" The kind man at the counter hands Y/N and Dean their trays of food. "Thank you" She says sweetly, taking her tray as Dean takes his. Y/N turns around as they're walking to a table to see Sam itching away at his pants. Y/N and Dean share a look of amusement as she bites back a snicker at this. "Dude, what's your problem?" Dean asks Sam feigning confusion.

"Nothing, I'm fine" Sam tries to brush it off, still itching. "Yeah?" Y/N asks him innocently. "Yeah" He assures them. "Alright? So uh, keep going. What about these tulpas?" Dean asks me as they take a seat at the table. Sam rests his bag down as he takes a seat. "Okay, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. A group of monks visualize a golem in their heads. They meditate on it so hard, they bring the thing to life" Y/N explains while she pops the lid off of her coffee and stirs it up, taking a sip.

"Out of thin air" Sam adds. "So?" Dean questions, taking a sip of his coffee. "That was 20 monks. Imagine what 10,000 web surfers could do" Sam says, pulling his laptop out of the bag. "I mean, Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people, all believing in the bastard." He says, typing on his laptop.

Sam cringes in discomfort, still scratching his legs. "Okay, wait wait wait. So you're trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he's real?" Dean cocks his eyebrow. Y/N and Sam shrug. "I don't know, maybe?" Sam says, typing on his laptop, grimacing from the itching. She bites back a smirk as she eat her fries at his discomfort.

'I feel a bit bad for the kid but I'm not saying anything because I'm not trying to be pulled into this.' Y/N thinks to herself.

"People believe in Santa Claus. How come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?" Dean says sarcastically. "Because I'm pretty sure you're the first name on Santas naughty list" She shoots back with a cheeky smile. Dean glares at her a bit but a slight smirk rises on his lips.

"I'll show you who's on the naughty list" He whispers to her lowly in a husky tone so Sam wouldn't hear. But he damn well heard, rolling his eyes at their stomach churning flirting, he's too irritated by the itching in his pants to care. A blush rises on Y/N's face but she covers it up with a stunned look. She then raises her foot, kicking his shin below the table with her boot.

Dean huffs a "Ow" as she shoots him a warning look. Dean snickers at her reaction, pleased. "Don't test me, Winchester" She flirts back, matching his tone. Deans smirk grows wider. He seems pleased with her response, she takes notice of the way his chest heaves.

'The things I would do to this breathtaking women. Son of a bitch.'

Dean thinks to himself as he pulls his lower lip in between his teeth, causing her stomach to flutter, a familiar heat rising in her southern region.

'Fuck, what I would do just to get a taste of his lips. Oh god, not now. Seriously y/n? The dudes biting his lip and you're turnt on? Get a grip girl! Thirsty ass bitch.'

Y/N practically mentally reprimands herself for feeling so flustered by Dean.

'Hey God? It's Sam again. Please, I'm begging you. Just make these too lovesick puppies fuck already for Christ's sake.'

Sam internally groans.

Y/N's POV

"Here, look at this" Sams voice breaks us out of our heated gaze. "Hmm?" We both say innocently as Dean clears his throat, Sam then turns the laptop to us, showing us a picture of the symbol we found. "That's a Tibetan spirit sigil. On the wall of the house" Sam says. "Craig said they were painting symbols from a Theology textbook. We're thinking they painted this, not even knowing what it was" Sam explains to Dean, cringing from the itching again.

So I decide to take over. Dean bites back a smirk when he realizes the itching is getting worse. "What Sam's saying, That sigil has been used for centuries. Concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So people are on the Helldweebs website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai" I add as Dean nods. "I mean, we don't know, but it might be enough to bring a tulpa to life" I say, taking a bite of my sandwich.

"It would explain why it keeps changing" Dean agrees, taking a sip of his coffee as Sam continues to scratch his legs. "Right. As the legend changes, people think different things, so Mordechai himself changes. Like a game of Telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work" Sam says, pointing to the laptop with one hand, grimacing as he itches.

"Yeah, because he's not a traditional spirit, per se" Dean says. "Yeah" Sam huffs, cringing still itching. "Okay, so why didn't we just uhh... get this spirit signal thingy off the wall and the website?" Dean suggests and I shake my head as I wipe my mouth. "It's not that simple. You see, once tulpas are created, they take on a life of their own" I say. Dean sighs, wiping his nose.

"Great. Alright, so if he really is a Thought-form. How the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?" Dean asks a bit frustrated. "Well it's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us" Sam says, me and Dean roll our eyes at the thought. "Check out their home page" Sam turns the laptop and pulls up the helldorks page to the video they posted of Mordechai. "Holy shit" I gasp in shock as I look at the views.

"Yep. Since they posted the video, the number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone" Sam stresses, nodding at my reaction. "Huh. I got an idea. Come on. You done?" Dean asks me quickly. "Yeah, I'm finished. Where are we going?" I tell him, gesturing to my empty tray as we pick up our coffees and Sam closes his laptop.

"We need to find a copy store" Dean tells us. Sam gets up, still itching his legs. Shakily putting his laptop into his bag. "Man, I think I'm allergic to our soap or something" He groans. I can't hold in my amusement anymore so me and Dean begin laughing hysterically at this. "You two did this?" Sam asks us shocked. I shake my head and point at Dean with my thumb.

"It was all him" I snort as Dean continues walking away laughing. "You're a frigging jerk!" Sam shouts at Dean who's still laughing. "Oh yeah!" Dean retorts back chuckling.

________________________________

The boys and I pull up in the trailer park, near Ed and Harrys trailer. "Gosh, can they get anymore geeky" I cringe as I step out of the Impala. "You guys ready?" Dean asks us. "Like Freddy" Sam nods with a smirk. "Let's punk some dorks" I snort. I knock harshly on the door, I'm pretty sure I heard someone squeak. "Who is it?" Harry asks fearfully. The boys snicker at his reaction, "Come on out here guys. We hear you in there!" Dean bellows.

The two open the door and I snort when I see the shelf behind them. "Oh look at that. Action figures in their original packaging. What a shock" I say sarcastically as Dean snickers. I notice Ed biting his lips as he looks at me and I cringe. "Guys, we need to talk" Sam says. "Yeah, um, sorry guys. We're a bit busy right now" Ed says smoothly as they step out of their trailer.

Busy my ass. I roll my eyes, "Yeah, well, we'll make it quick. We need you to shut down your website" Dean says plainly with a fake smile which Ed finds funny for some reason. "Man, you know, these guys get us busted last night. We spend the night in a holding cell" Ed laughs while Harry looks annoyed. "I had to pee in that cell, in-front of people. And I get stage fright" Harry complains. "Why should we trust you?" Ed narrows his eyes at us.

"Look guys, we all know what we saw last night. What in that house. But now that's to your website, there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai" Sam says. "That's right, which means people are gonna keep showing up at the Hell House, running into him in person. Somebody could get hurt" Dean warns them. "Yeah?" Ed smirks. "Ed, maybe they've got a point" Harry interjects.

"No" Ed shakes his head. "Nope" Harry suddenly says. Jesus, Harry's practically this dudes Yes Man. "Okay, we have an obligation to our fans, to the truth" Ed says cockily. I chuckle annoyed at this, "Well I have an obligation to kick both your asses right now-" I snap angrily, fearful looks taking over both their faces but Sam and Dean cut me off.

"Y/N/N, hey. Just forget it, alright?" Sam says calmly. "These guys. You could probably bitch slap them both" Dean adds, making the two idiots chuckle arrogantly. I narrow my eyes at them. "I could probably even tell them that thing about Mordechai..." Sam adds suggestively, Ed and Harry becomes a bit intrigued by this. "But....they're still not gonna help us" Sam sighs.

"Let's just go Princess" Dean says, giving me a knowing look. I get where they're getting at and nod. Putting the plan into action. "Yeah you two are right" I sigh and we begin walking off. The two following behind us like lost puppies. "Woah woah woah. Wait wait" "Hold on a second here" Harry and Ed stutter in unison.

"Yeah, what thing about Mordechai, you guys?" Harry asks us as we walk away, a slight smirk on my face. "Don't tell them, Sam" I say lowly, staying in character. "But if they agree to shut the website down, guys" Sam fake protests. "They're not gonna do it! You said so yourself" Dean denies as we continue walking, the two following behind us. "No, wait wait! Don't listen to them, okay? We'll do it" Ed finally agrees.

We all share a amused look before turning around to them. "It's a secret, Sam" Dean adds, fueling the act. Sam sighs, "Look, it's a pretty big deal, alright? And it wasn't easy to dig up" Sam says. "So only if we have your word you'll shut everything down" I add, pointing at them firmly. "Totally" Ed smirks at me, his eyes scanning me up and down. I cringe at this.

"And wipe that look off your face, not even an ocean could quench your thirst dude" I snap at him and he looks down guilty. "Yes ma'am" He salutes, causing me to roll my eyes. "Alright" Sam says, pulling a paper out of his pocket. "It's a death certificate from the 30s. We got it at the library" Sam begins to feed them the fake story as Dean hands them the paper we printed at the copy shop.

"Now according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self inflicted gunshot wound" Sam tells them as they look at the paper, then up at us. "That's right, he didn't hang or cut himself" Dean says. "He shit himself?" Ed asks us, shocked. "Yep. With a .45 pistol. To this day, they say he's terrified of them" I respond nodding.

"As a matter of face, they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought iron rounds. You'd kill the son of a bitch" Dean adds. The two look at each other in glee. Harry then runs to the trailer. Presumably to post the story. "Thanks gorgeous" Ed winks at me. I scoff as he runs behind Harry. "Harry. Slow your roll, buddy. They're gonna know we're excited" He calls out to Harry lowly.

I notice Deans jaw clench whenever Ed flirts with me. "Dorks" I snort as we walk back to the Impala. "I think one of those dorks has a thing for you, sweetheart" Dean snickers, his jaw still clenching. I roll my eyes as Sam laughs at this. "Please, y/n/n's standards aren't THAT low" He snorts. I shove him lightly as Dean laughs. "I hate you two" I grumble chuckling, causing Sam to laugh more.

________________________________

Due to Deans never ending hunger, we're now again at a diner. Sam on my laptop searching the website, while I'm reading a book about tulpas. I'm next to Dean while Sam is on the opposite side of the booth. Dean, being the man child he is, is currently playing with a string machine that's next to up on the wall.

Where when you pull the string, a man plastic man with a fish in his hand, starts laughing. This has been going on for about five minutes and it's getting annoying. Sam pulls the string, stopping it while we both glare at Dean. "If you pull that string one more time, I'm gonna kill you" He deadpans. Dean stares at him blankly. I look back down at my book and pulls the string again, making it laugh.

My head snaps up so instantly raise my foot and kick him in the shin under the table with my boot. "Ow!" He exclaims, a smile on his face. Sam pulls the string to stop it, glaring at Dean who chuckles at the both of us. A cheeky smile on his face. "Come on, guys. You need more laughter in your lives. You know? You're way to tense" Dean chuckles as Sam sips his beer, annoyed.

"I'm fine, thank you" I grumble. "Yeah, sure you are" Dean snorts, making me glare at him.

"Did they post it yet?" I ask Sam, who then turns the laptop with the article to me and Dean, picking up his fork and stabbing his pancake. "We learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdock has a fatal fear of firearms." Dean reads off of the site as Sam nods.

"Alright. So how long do we wait?" I ask them as Sam chews his pancake. He shrugs, shutting the laptop. "Long enough for the new story to spread and the legend to change" Sam suggests, picking up his beer in a toasting manner, "I figure by nightfall, iron rounds would work on the sucker" He smirks, me and Dean pick up our beers and cheers with him. "Sweet" "Hallelujah" Me and Dean say in unison, picking up our beers and gulping them down.

When I go to rest it down I realize it's stuck to my hand, my face contorts to confusion until I see Sam with a smirk on his face, bursting into a fit of laughter, clapping because Dean couldn't put his down either. I clench my jaw in annoyance, "You didn't" Dean says. "Ohhh, I did" Sam laughs, holding up the super glue. I groan, "Dammit man, I didn't do you anything. Why did I get superglued!?" I exclaim. Sam laughs shaking his head

"You saw him throw that itching powder in my clothes and kept your trap shut, you're in this whether you like it or not crackhead" He smirks, sipping his beer. I narrow my eyes at him, "Oh, you're on dipshit" I challenge him, glaring at him. He laughs, pulling the string on the machine, as it blurs out it's annoying ass sound, laughing along with it as Dean and I try to get the bottles off our hands.

________________________________

After practically having to pry our hands off of the beer bottles Sam glued ours to. We stole that weird ass noise making machine that Dean loved playing with at the diner and turned it on outside in the woods for the cops to go looking for the noise, stalling a bit so we can run in, kill Mordechai and shag ass out of town.

The boys and I creep into the Hell House, shining our lights and aiming our guns around after bursting open the door. "I barely have an skin left on my palm" Dean complains. "Quit whining, you started this stupid prank war" I grumble back at him. "I ain't touching that line with a 10-foot pole" Sam retorts as we move into the other room. Scanning it, Dean then kicks the door to the basement down, we all file in carefully.

"Well, you think old Mordechai's home?" Dean asks us. I shrug. "I don't know" Sam responds. "Me either" A voice behind us says, scaring the tartar sauce out of me. We all quickly turn around, aiming our guns in the direction just for it to be those Hell Dorks with their stupid equipment on. "WOAH WOAH!" They both scream, putting their hands up in surrender.

We draw back our guns, "What the hell are you two dumbasses trying to do!? Are you trying to get yourselves killed!?" I yell at them angrily like a disappointed mother. "We're just trying to get a book and movie deal, okay?" Ed says shakily. Then suddenly the sounds of an axe sharpening comes from the door behind us and we all aim our guns at it

"Oh, crap" Harry mutters. "Uh, guys, you wanna...You wanna go open that door for us?" Ed asks us fearfully from behind us, gulping. "Why don't you?" Dean retorts, absolutely fed up. The door unlocking alone scares them and then, Mordechai comes bursting through the door yelling. The boys and I empty our clips into the bastard who screams in pain and disapparates into a black smoke.

Dean nods at us, giving us a look. We return the nod, "Sam, upstairs, I'll take the rooms, Y/N, stay with dumbledorks" Dean orders as they begin the check the rest of the room. "Oh, god. He's gone, he's gone" Ed gasps in shock. "Did you get him?" Harry asks him. "Yeah, they got him" Ed responds, still frightened. "No, on camera. Did you get him on camera?" Harry asks him shakily. Ed begins to fidget with the camera.

"Well, I...uh..." He tries to look but Harry grabs the camera. "Let me see it, let me see it" That's when Mordechai appears and knocks the camera out of Harry's hand. "Fuck!" I yell startled, ducking when he tries to chop me, disappearing into a black smoke again. They boys enter back the room, "Mordechais still kicking fellas" I inform them.. "Didnt you guys post that bullshit story we gave you?!" He bellows at Ed and Harry.

"Of course we did" Ed says. "Yeah but then our serves crashed" Harry adds and I roll my eyes annoyed. "So it didn't take?!" I ask him. "Uhhhh-" They stutter. "So these- These guns don't work?" Dean asks. "Yeah" Ed answers guiltily, I angrily toss my gun aside. "Great, just great" Dean mutters sarcastically.

"Fellas? Any ideas?" I ask them a bit panicked, they both give an 'I don't know' expression. "We are getting out of here" Harry says, rushing off but Ed is stuck in place. He runs back and grabs Ed. "Come on, Ed" He drags him out in a hurry. Then we hear Ed and Harry screaming. "Jesus, he's gonna kill them" I mutter, Sam goes to play hero.

Running in to save them. "Let's torch this sucker" Dean suggesst, "Yeah, fire always works" I agree nodding, we rush into the kitchen to get lighter fluid, dousing the ground it in. "Dean! Y/N!" We hear Sam yell. I grab an old can of bug spray and a lighter. "Hey!" I yell at Mordechai who has Sam up on the wall with his axe, choking him.

Igniting the lighter with the bug spray. "Go! Go!" I yell at Sam who breaks out of Mordechais hold. "Come on" I help him up, grabbing him to run over to Dean. "Look, if Mordechai can't leave the house and we can't kill him" I say quickly. "We improvise" Dean adds. He then lights the lighter and throws it where we doused the place in lighter fluid.

The whole room sets aflame. Sam looks baffled but we all run out of the house and into the bushes as the whole house sets on fire. "That's your solution? Burn the whole damn place to the ground?" Sam asks us. "Well no one will go in anymore" Dean defends "I mean, look. Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt" I say. "It's fast and dirty but it works" Dean adds. "What if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?" Sam says baffled.

I pause. Why the fuck did I not think of that? "Well, then we'll just have to come back" Dean shrugs. Sam looks at us in disbelief, breathing heavily, "Kind of makes you wonder, out of all the things we've hunted. How many of those things existed just because people believed in them" Sam wonders out loud and I can't help but agree with him as we watch the house burn.

________________________________

The next evening, the boys and I are hanging out on a picnic table at the trailer park as Ed and Harry walk out towards their car that's attached to their trailer, holding grocery bags. "I was thinking that Mordechai had a really super high attack bonus" Ed says to Harry. "Dude, I got the munchies right now" Harry snickers.

"Gentleman and gorgeous" Ed greets us, a wide smile on his face. "Hey guys" Sam responds back. "Should we tell them?" Harry asks Ed. "Eh, might as well. They're gonna read about it in the trades" Ed says boastfully. Me and Sam share an amused look as they begin to brag. "So, this morning we got a phone call from some important Hollywood producers" Harry brags as we follow behind them.

"Oh yeah, wrong number?" Dean retorts with a snort. "No smartass" Ed glares at him. "He read all about the Hell House on our website and what a to option the motion picture rights. Maybe even have us write it" He says boastfully as he puts the bags in their car. "And create the RPG" Harry adds.

"The what?" Dean cocks his eyebrow in confusion as me and Sam bite back laughs. "Role playing game" Ed says as if it's obvious. "Right" Dean says, still confused. "Just a little lingo for you. Anywho, excuse us, we're off to La-La Land" Ed smirks, his eyes panning over to me.

"Well, congratulations guys. That sounds really great" Sam says sarcastically. "Yeah, that's awesome. Best of luck" Dean adds, snickering. A smug look takes over Eds face. "Oh yeah, luck. It's got nothing to do with it. It's about talent. You know, sheer, unabashed talent" He says as Harry nods proudly.

Ed then bites his lip and I roll my eyes, bracing myself. "You're welcome to jo-" He goes to flirt again. "I'd rather eat my own filth, Venkman" I snap back, narrowing my eyes at him. He shrugs nonchalantly, "Your loss, gorgeous. Later" He winks at me before giving us a peace sign, jumping into their car. Cocky bastard.

I scoff at this, not feeling bad whatsoever for setting them up. We watch as they drive off. The boys and I share an amused look as Dean mutters "Wow", while we walk back to the car. "We have a confession to make" Sam breaks, holding back his laugh. "What's that?" dean asks us, looking down smiling.

"We uh- we're the ones that called them and told them we were producers" I admit. Me and Sam chuckle as Dean looks at us shocked. Turning back to look at their car, bursting into hysterics. "Well, I'm the one who out the dead fish in their back seat" Dean confesses. I laugh loudly along with the boys. "I knew I smelt something!" I laugh as Dean grins proudly.

"Truce?" Sam ask Dean. "Yeah, truce. At least for the next hundred miles." Dean says, getting into the Impala along with Sam. "Don't worry, Princess. We won't drag you into it this time" Dean assured me, starting the car as I'm still outside. Too late for that, darling. I take a step back from the car and then BOOM!

The second the ignition starts, flour explodes inside of the Impala. Coating them all over, inside of Baby. They both cough, glaring at each other angrily. "You said truce!" Dean growls at Sam. "I didn't do this!" Sam exclaims. Their gazes snap over to me as I laugh hysterically, bending over, clutching my stomach. I pull out the flour bag from my jacket and wave it in the air victoriously.

"You didn't!" Sam exclaims. "Ohhh, I did" I mock his words from earlier when he stuck our hands to the beer bottles. Jumping in the back seat, “Victory is mine!” I claim proudly, grinning at them. "This is gonna take me forever to clean dude!" Dean groans in annoyance. "Maybe next time don't drag me into it" I shrug innocently, smirking as the boys glare at me.

This makes me laugh even more. “Awwww, turn those frowns upside down fellas. At least for the next 100 miles at least" I tease them, leaning over to fix Deans frown with my fingers. I notice he holds back a laugh, Sam shakes his head in amusement.

________________________________

Authors Note: Hiiiii, sorry this one took be a bit longer. I went on a trip recently so I’ve been pretty busy but I hope you guys enjoyed this one. This chapter is unedited but I do plan on coming back and editing it so just ignore any mistakes. Just a little insider, Y/N’s flour prank was symbolic to Sam’s cookie prank when they were 13. Let’s just say, she’s still salty about that one LOL. Make sure to leave your honest comments and thoughts, I look forward to them, love y’all😘

Xoxo

[buddhamethods]

10 BL Characters I Would Hit With My Car

(I don't have a licence and can't drive so this is just for fun OBVIOUSLY)

LISTEN, I love these characters. They are complex, they are human, they are flawed and yet you can't help but root for them. Or they are just giant assholes.

Regadless, I think they would all benefit from getting hit by a car as a little treat.

Feel free to tag yourselves and participate in a bit of lighthearted negativity and media complaining.

1) Ben From Never Let Me Go (2022)

Of course he would be on this list. Mainly because how are you, a closeted gay in a coming of age bl drama, sitting down in front of a piano next to a beautiful boy and not just completely eat his face in a passionate life altering kiss? I understand that was the whole point of the scene, but personally I would rise above the narrative that was trapping me.

2) Dan from Not Me (2021)

Being a cop, killing Sean's father and selling NFTs is bad enough on it's own, I agree. But Dan's biggest sin was taking the cigarette out of Yok's mouth and depriving us of seeing sad First Kanaphan smoking near a body of water-THE queer cinema experience.

As it turns out, you can be gay and homophobic at the same time.

3) Kenji from My Dear Gangster Oppa (2023)

So you have funky hair and kawnty fashion sense? Oh, you partake in fun bathtub threesomes? What, you're a little unhinged and psychotic? Perfect! THEN WHY THE HELL YOU SUCK AT BEING A VILLAIN SO HARD HUH???

Kenji you better put your helmet on, I'm turning on the engine.

4) Kanghan from Dangerous Romance (2023)

Rich people don't deserve rights in general so Kang was already on thin ice to begin with. But being a bully on top of that? UNDER THE HOOD OF THE CAR YOU GO!

Also he is so attention starved on account of his father being a negligent asshole that he will jump in front of my car willingly just to get a drop of love from dad and Sailom.

5) Yu Xi Gu from HIStory3: Make Our Days Count (2019)

(I'm so so incredibly sorry but I HAD to okay you don't underst- *gets shot immediately*)

6) Mork from Fish Upon The Sky (2021)

I looked at Pond for 0.1 second and fell so embarrasingly in love that for the entirety of FUTS I saw no flaws in Mork's character at all. All he did made sense and I was blissfuly having a great time! So I'm pummeling him to the ground for my own sake I CAN'T KEEP BEING THIS STUPID ABOUT HIM HE IS OBJECTIVELY CREEPY!

7) Vee from Love Mechanics (2022)

Was he in my "I want them carnally" list? Yes. Do I find him beautiful and incredible? Double yes. Am I smearing him on asphalt like a squished bug for causing Mark so much unnecessary pain and heartbreak? More likely than you think.

8) Jiwoo from To My Star/ To My Star 2 (2021-22)

MY BEAUTIFUL BOY!! A crumb of healthy communication is all I'm asking for!

Jiwoo was so emotionally bricked up for the majority of both seasons that it caused ME damage. So me hitting him with my car is both a revenge plot and an attempt to let loose some of those pent up feelings of his.

(But also I'm dead meat if Seojoon finds out it was me behind the wheel. He loves that boy too much.)

9) Zee from Twins (2023-24)

I'm volunteering to do this as public service to keep Sprite and First together without any twins switch drama. One gremlin down, one successful volleyball couple UP!!

10) Winner from Pit Babe (2023-24)

I want to do it as an experiment. I feel like he would make a funny sound under the wheels, like when you sqeeze clown's nose or step on a rubber duck. I would also like to see how this will affect his character. Will he become even more annoying? Will it fix him completely? ONLY ONE WAY TO FIND OUT!!

(This was so fun I love inflicting imaginary violence on fictional men. If you read this far into this incoherent insanity, consider yourself tagged!💖)