#control freaks rewrite
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Chapters: 1/7 Fandom: Danny Phantom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton, Danny Fenton & Maddie Fenton, Danny Fenton & Jack Fenton, Danny Fenton & Sam Manson, Danny Fenton & Tucker Foley Characters: Danny Fenton, Jazz Fenton, Jack Fenton (Danny Phantom), Maddie Fenton, Sam Manson, Tucker Foley, Freakshow (Danny Phantom) Additional Tags: No One Knows AU, Invisobang (Danny Phantom), Invisobang 2024 (Danny Phantom), Wings, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Identity Reveal, Mind Control, Good Parents Jack and Maddie Fenton, Episode: s01e20 Control Freaks (Danny Phantom), Canon Rewrite Summary:
Danny has enough on his plate as it is, between his kingly duties, the ghosts that have dropped off the map so suddenly that he's starting to worry, and that dang itch - which was beginning to turn into pain - that just won't go away. He doesn't need to deal with this creepy circus and its equally creepy ringmaster. But when he encounters four strange ghosts robbing a jewelry store, and he starts losing time… He realizes that he can't avoid Circus Gothica forever.
If only he could say not my circus, not my monkeys and just be done with it.
Aaaand the time has finally come! I'm so excited for yall to see everything I've written and see the art my amazing artists, @suretkerim and @qt-kt , did. It's been super fun, and I'm grateful to have had the opportunity to participate in the event ^-^
https://archiveofourown.org/works/58614682/chapters/149344042
#invisobang#invisobang 2024#danny phantom big bang#danny fenton#jazz fenton#maddie fenton#jack fenton#sam manson#tucker foley#freakshow#control freaks rewrite#ghost king danny#no one knows au#wings#good parents jack and maddie#im so excited for this#yall dont even know lol#i had a lot of fun with this event#hope yall will have fun reading the suffering of my blorbos :)
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Will the Addison/spamton posts ever come back?
Yeah I am gesturing vaguely
To be fair the first like arch was completed with the last chapter and I know more is gonna happen and like be going on so I’m like in no hurry. Since I’m gonna devote major time to it when it does eventually happen. Though I know it’s a little upsetting for yall.
Maybe I’ll listen to my voice claims for them and look through notes to get back into UTDR faster but ive been in this weird slump due to work and school.
#this is funny cause I just imagined a sad amv for Spam and Banner#sometime I wish I had help or a co writer but it’s like my au alone and I’m like#a control freak on projects like this#cause I think of them constantly#also my dad got diagnosed with cancer around the same time I dropped off UTDR stuff so it’s like#I needed something way diff to not be concerned he’s fine now cancer free and I’m on break so maybe this will be a good reset#I got really into cotl but I am not a lamb narinder shipper#so you’ll probs see that and me mentioning the bendy rewrite#it’s also why I keep asks open cause sometimes o forget this blog exists cause well#I am mainly on tumblr to interact with my fandoms but no one talks so it’s like#I guess I’ll be a real person#ask#anon#utdr
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exhibit #1 - dacryphilia
an installment of the freak shit march gallery showcase.
pairing: yandere!alhaitham x reader (genshin).
length: 2.0k.
warnings: non/con, student + teacher, rough oral sex, wildly unbalanced power dynamics, academic stress, degradation, mild infantalization, and forced helplessness.
The worst part was – it really wasn’t that easy to make you cry.
Before enrolling in Alhaitham’s class, you could only remember it happening twice. Once in adolescence, when hearing that your adoptive guardian had lost his life during an encounter with a group of thieves, and later on, after you failed your first attempt at the Akademiya’s entrance exam with a score so low, it could be expressed in single digits. It wasn’t that you were the stoic type – no, you and Alhaitham had nothing in common, let alone your dispositions. You just preferred to express yourself in more productive ways. Something so irrational, so hysterical, didn’t come naturally to you, and it never had before. You just didn’t cry.
Hence why it was all the more frustrating to be seated in front of Alhaitham’s desk for the fifth time in as many classes, fighting back tears. Your latest paper, an analysis of mythological tropes shared between the ancient folklore of Sumeru’s desert and forest regions, sat in front of you, drowned in red ink and creased from careless handling. You were sure his notes were thoroughly scathing, but so much as thinking about trying to read over them left tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, a fresh sob rising into your throat. It was humiliating. It was pathetic. Children cried over bad grades, not adults. Not you.
If Alhaitham noticed your distress, he kept his concerns to himself. His narrowed gaze remained centered loosely on the book in his right hand, the pointer finger of his left tapping idly against the tabletop. “I’m sure you understand why I can’t accept this,” he started, disinterest thick in his tone. You might’ve found some amount of comfort in his boredom, if it hadn’t been so degrading. “The Akademiya holds certain standards of quality for its students, and the work you’ve submitted is—” A measured beat, a shift to his inclination. “—less than. The orthodox course of action would be supervised revisions, but given the severity of the corrections needed, starting from scratch seems more advisable.”
You tried to control your breathing – five seconds in, five seconds out. The tactic was mildly effective until Alhaitham glanced up from his book and, rather jarringly, you processed he expected you to answer. “…I understand,” you managed, keeping the tremors in your voice down to a slight, nearly imperceptible shake. “But—”
Alhaitham cut in. “But?”
Your chest started to ache, and you realized you’d stopped breathing entirely. “It’s just—I do have other courses this semester, and the amount of time I’ve dedicated to your rewrites—It’s starting to affect my other classwork.” And your social life, and your psyche, and your physical health. You couldn’t remember you’d fallen asleep without a quill in your hand. “I’m sorry, but if there’s any way I could get any amount of credit for what I’ve already done, that would—”
“That would be letting personal circumstance circumvent academic merit.” The knot lodged in the base of your throat tightened. You balled your fists in your lap and counted to ten. “To give you any amount of credit, the work you’ve submitted would have to be worth any amount of credit. Unfortunately, it isn’t.” His gaze shifted to you. “Is that clear?”
You opened your mouth, but it was too late. The dam was busted, the pillar split, and despite your best efforts, the totality of your despair came crashing down around you. You tried to set your jaw, to shut your eyes, but the sobs escaped regardless – tiny and whimpered, fractured by unsteady breathing and your own failure to choke them back. The tears were almost worse, more pathetic, more childish – staining your cheeks and dripping down your chin, spotting the collar of your uniform. You pawed at your face with your sleeves, but that only drew more attention to your instability. If you’d had any less pride, you might’ve fled his office entirely, but the only thing worse than breaking down in front of your professor would’ve been breaking down in front of your peers. You couldn’t take their coddling attempts at kindness, their cooed assurances that Alhaitham really wasn’t that demanding, not after you knew what he was expecting. You couldn’t make yourself seem anymore hopeless than you already were.
Alhaitham, at least, had the decency to keep his mouth shut. He watched on in silence before sighing, setting his book down, and pushing himself to his feet.
He rounded the desk with no great sense of urgency. You were sobbing into your hands when he came to a stop next to your seat, and for one brief, horrifying moment, you thought he might actually attempt to comfort you. He kept his arms crossed over his chest, though, his voice remaining painfully neutral as he spoke. “You need to pass my class, don’t you?”
“Y-yes.” It was a required credit, and you’d missed the unenrollment period. Trying to back out now would be nearly, if not flatly, impossible. “I’d do—”
“Anything, I know. Save put the bare minimum amount of thought into your assignments, apparently.” You felt him reach down, raking his fingers through your hair. “And you mean that? Anything I’d ask of you?”
Had you been a little more lucid, a little less sleep deprived, you might’ve noticed the cloying note to his last question, the uncharacteristic warmth to his touch as his hand slipped from your scalp to your check, a thumb idly brushing away your tears. But, you were distraught beyond the point of reason, and the last of your energy had been spent on a paper he hadn’t deemed worth his time, and it was all you could do to nod into his hand.
Alhaitham, practical as always, wasted no time. “Get on your knees.”
…
Where there might’ve been shock, there was only dull dread. You’d heard about things like this before – tutors holding study materials over the heads of desperate lower-classmen, department head leveraging funding against the morals of insecure young scholars. Of course, you’d always assumed you would never fall into something so obviously depraved, and of course, you sniffled pathetically as you lowered yourself to the floor, collapsing onto your knees in front of Alhaitham. He let his hand drift to the back of your head, its weight settling against your scalp. You tried not to think about why he might want to hold onto you.
He took the initiative, mercifully. You were still biting back pitchy little cries as he shrugged his pants low on his hips, taking his cock in his free hand. Horrifyingly, he was already stiff. You couldn’t tell which had gotten him hard – the idea of the act itself, or the opportunity to exploit a student.
Alhaitham pumped his fist over his length, tightening his grip as he reached the flushed head. His eyes never left you. “Do you know what you’re doing, or will you need remedial courses in this subject, too?”
You pursed your lips. “That’s not funny.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
You weren’t looking forward to this, but having to keep talking to him suddenly seemed like the worse of two evils. You managed to swallow back the last of your tears as you leaned forward, awkwardly replacing his hand with your own. He carded his fingers through your hair as you took his tip past your lips, letting it sit on your tongue. The taste was earthy and bitter, with something more acidic playing just underneath. In another context, it might not have been entirely unpleasant, but right now, it only made you want to wretch.
Shutting your eyes, you soldiered on. Guiding him into the hollow of your cheek would’ve been easier, but Alhaitham was quick to correct you – jerking your head upright as soon as it started to lull to the side. He held you in place as he bucked his hips, the head of his cock bumping against the back of your throat as the girth of his shaft forced your jaw open. You gagged around him, but if Alhaitham cared, it would’ve been impossible to know. There was an airy grunt, then a click of his tongue – a teacher correcting their pupil’s latest mistake. “Breathe through your nose. If you pass out, we’ll only have to start over.”
The bastard. The heartless, sadistic bastard. Your hands shot to his legs as he thrust himself deeper into you; manually nodding your head in time with his languid strokes. You would’ve been better off going limp, letting him do what he needed to and ending this that much sooner, but something primal and contrarian in the darkest depths of your mind spurred you to try and keep up, to bob, to dig your nails into his thighs and stop your throat from seizing around him. The pressure was the worst part – all force, no relief, the gnawing awareness that you were losing air paired with the alien weight of something occupying a part of you that was meant to be vacant. The tears were back in an instant, leaking from the corners of your eyes, joining your spit where it was starting to spill out at the corners of your lips, and Alhaitham groaned, twitching against the inside of your throat.
“This doesn’t mean you won’t need regular tutoring sessions.” His grip tightened, blunt nails biting into your scalp. You whined in pain as he pressed your nose to his stomach, holding you there for a second, then another before jerking your back. “Home visits should prove to be the most effective. You’ll come to me, of course. The student accommodations are too public – it’ll distract you.”
You started to shake your head, but Alhaitham held you still, keeping you concentrated on his cock. By now, his pace was steady, his face flushed, his cock battering its shape into your throat. Tasting him wasn’t an option, anymore. It seemed to coat your tongue, drip down your throat, slather itself over every part of you it could infect. You cried out around his cock, and Alhaitham cursed, his hips stuttering against your mouth. “You’ll come to me, every day, and I’ll—fuck, I’ll—”
Suddenly, violently, he pushed you away and pulled out of your mouth. His hand made it to his cock in time to pump once, twice before your black-rimmed vision was spotted with white, before thick ropes of something hot and terrible were being painted over your face. It was all you could do to blink, to stare, to wonder why he was still looking at you with that awful, frigid intensity. You wished he would look away. You wished you’d never taken his fucking class at all.
You opened your mouth to say as much, but something thick dripped off of your upper lip and onto your tongue. Numbly, you let the bitter, corrosive taste wash over you, and then, you broke down.
What little pride you had left wasn’t worth salvaging, anymore. You sobbed and shook unabashedly, wailing like a child as his cum cooled on your skin. Alhaitham made a passing effort to hush you before kneeling to your height and taking you in his arms. With no strain whatsoever, he carried you back to his seat and fell into it, keeping you bundled against his chest. “You’ll come to me, every day, and I’ll make sure you’re not thinking about anything beyond you and I,” he finished. “That way, you’ll only have to remember what I tell you to.”
Alhaitham paused, sighed. “That is, if the General Mahamatra doesn’t decide to expel you from the Akademiya altogether. Trying to seduce an instructor is a very serious offense. You won’t need to worry about studying after word spreads.”
Rather than draw back, you melted into him, burying your face in his shoulder. For the first time that you could recall, Alhaitham let out a breath of a laugh, holding you that much closer. His lips pressed into your temple – the imitation of a kiss. “But that’s not surprising, is it?”
If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought you felt him smile.
“You were always going to need someone more capable to take of you.”
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere genshin impact#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin imagines#yandere genshin#yandere alhaitham#alhaitham x reader
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✧˖° 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍
[tfp] synth-en!obsessed!optimus prime x human!reader 18+ content/valveplug
cw: possessiveness, jealousy, top!optimus (he can top you once. as a treat <3), subish!optimus (kinda...), reader matches his freak, explicit valveplug, rough sex, overstimulation, breast play, no aftercare?, mention of ratchet's human partner (which is actually different reader lmao)
word count: 5100
sorry it took me so long to write this bitch; i had to rewrite everything three times before I was satisfied. also, don't expect an overly toxic optimus. i decided to stick as close to canon as possible while giving him just a pinch of freakiness, horniness and aggression
Optimus's servo smeared with energon shoots forward, locking around the helm of the nearest Vehicon. Behind him, Bumblebee and Bulkhead fire at the enemies guarding the energon cubes deeper within the cave, forcing the Decepticon soldiers to focus on them rather than on the exposed Optimus, whose servo grips the helm in a death embrace. Prime presses the enemy further against the cold, unyielding wall, just as unrelenting, securing against any escape before tightening his digits. They tremble for a moment, battling against metal, but it does not remain defiant for long. It yields to his strength, bends, gives way, until at last, completely crumples beneath his bare servo, spraying energon straight onto Optimus’s masked faceplate.
Violence is an inescapable shackle of war. Unyielding and inevitable. Optimus loathed violence, despised it, resisted using it, forcing himself only in the rarest of circumstances.
But there was not a trace of reluctance in the way he killed the Vehicon. This was not a wartime obligation or a fight for survival — it was murder. A deliberate act, cold and devoid of sympathy for mere cannon fodder, judging by how nonchalantly Optimus shakes the still-warm energon off his servo, all the while scanning for his next target.
“Bossbot?” Bulkhead asks, but the concern in his voice does not reach Optimus’s audials.
The Autobot leader’s entire focus is on the three remaining Vehicons, bravely defending two carts loaded with energon. On future victims, sacks to unload his uncharacteristic aggression upon. He wants to feel metal yielding beneath his servo again. To plunge his arm into a chassis and tear out a still-beating spark; to experience warm energon coating his entire frame. To break his own moral backbone, free himself, to finally taste victory in an era of failures.
He wants to live, to be free, rid himself of the restrictions he imposed upon himself eons ago. Optimus wants to kill Megatron and bring you his helm impaled upon his blade, for he is finally ready for absolute victory. But he also wants you. To devour, drown in, possess. Now, while the energon on his frame is still warm, while he can allow himself to indulge, while he feels like a god.
The fact that he cannot have you only stokes the unrestrained aggression further.
A storm of emotions swirls within him, spinning through his processor, through spark, and behind the interface panel, tormenting the spike swollen with thoughts of you, until Optimus finally lets rage and hatred win. Allows them to consume him completely and take control over every fiber of his being, including the most hidden, most private parts.
“Cover me!” he throws out a scrap of rationality before charging forward with a speed unsettlingly unnatural for a being of such immense power and height.
With only a few strides, he closes the distance between himself and the promise of liberation, dodging blaster shots raining down from ahead and behind, until he reaches the soldiers still fighting valiantly. He grabs the nearest one in his servo while seamlessly switching the other one to the blade, effortlessly slicing through the helm of a second Vehicon. Digits clench, repeating the sensation of his strength from before, still relishing in the pleasure of breaking free from the chains of nobility. More hot energon splatters onto his tainted frame.
The last surviving Vehicon fights bravely to the bitter end, trying to aim his blaster straight at Optimus’s exposed helm, but he is not granted the chance to strike. Prime releases the headless body of the other soldier and immediately turns his attention to him, predator locking onto his next prey. Before the shot can fire, his blade plunges directly into the Vehicon’s spark, snuffing out his meager, meaningless existence.
Optimus watches the body slide off his energon-coated blade and crumple onto the ground. Only then does it cease to interest him, to hold any value.
Yet, he does not feel satisfied. He still has the strength to fight, craves more enemies to extinguish. He is ready to face Unicron himself, the synthetic energon coursing through his lines whispering that he would win such a battle. He would triumph over anyone. Unstoppable. A god.
“Is that all of them?” he asks, a flicker of hope for more lingering in his voice. He needs to release this energy, to focus his pulsing, muddled processor on something simple. Something that will grant him relief from his hunger, no matter its origin.
“Yes,” Bumblebee replies. Despite his unease over their leader’s state, he adds, “All the energon is ours.”
“Bossbot,” Bulkhead tries again, “are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“Exquisite, Bulkhead,” Prime responds, his tone bored, completely uninterested in continuing the conversation.
His thoughts have already shifted to someone else. Someone softer, sweeter.
His spike throbs irritatingly, demanding attention it will have to wait a little longer for.
Optimus presses his digits to his audials, unbothered by the energon staining them, and adds, “I am sending coordinates for the ground bridge. Be quick.”
He retracts his battle mask and turns toward his teammates.
“Gather as much energon as you can carry,” he instructs them, but the words are not truly for them. He is absent, lost in unreachable contemplation.
His optics, now a furious green, stare ahead, fixed on the point where the ground bridge will appear, each nanoklik of delay eroding his fragile patience. He clenches his servos into fists, trying to focus on that sensation, to concentrate on anything that will quell the irritation of waiting. Waiting until he can return to you and see you again.
Yet, he would not refuse one more Decepticon. The energon on his frame is beginning to cool, becoming nothing more than an echo of the euphoria of unchained rage. He had felt its effects for too short a time. Was not granted the full release of all the filth accumulated over eons of functioning on traditional, insufficient energon — and he wants more. Needs more. Wants to hear the clang of metal against metal again, to see the sparks and feel them ignite another fight; to witness how easily his enemies break beneath his might.
He tilts his helm slightly toward Bulkhead. A strong soldier — he would surely pose a challenge. Perhaps he could toy with him for a moment before hurling him across the cave with a single strike, indulging in his restless need to move, to act.
Their gazes meet for a brief moment, and Optimus sees hesitation in Bulkhead’s step. Uncertainty. A shadow of fear that reassures him of his own invincibility. He smirks triumphantly, even though their battle was only a fantasy.
But it could be real. Would you be proud of him if he took Bulkhead down with one hand? Finally proved his strength, impressed you with his power? He imagines you praising him. A simple “my good mech” rings loud in his processor, but its electrifying effect quickly travels downward, teasing his spike, reminding him just how much he needs you. How desperately he wants to be with you.
His pedes shift impatiently.
He prays to Primus that you are in the base right now. He does not trust himself at this moment to believe he could endure even a few more kliks apart without killing someone with his bare servos.
At last, the darkness of the cave is swept away by the flash of the Ground Bridge. Without waiting for the others, Optimus strides through first, each impatient step bringing him closer to you — until he is met with the familiar sight of the silo. And in the middle of it, standing on a lower platform, is you, seemingly engaged in a pleasant conversation with Arcee, judging by your warm smile.
You say something to the femme, a few words before your attention shifts to him, and you freeze upon seeing the energon staining his frame. As if you were afraid of him, though it is not your shock that truly irks him.
No, it is the fact that you were talking to Arcee, smiling at her, giving her attention that she does not deserve. Because it is he who is your partner, your lover, your soulmate, your future conjunx, and it is he who deserves your affection. He should be the only bot in your life, and this determination, this jealousy pricking at his spark, leads him straight to you, ignoring Arcee’s greeting and attempt to ask a question.
With measured gentleness, a fleeting echo of his former self, he scoops you into his servo and lifts you to his faceplate.
“Optimus, wait!” you plead, but your words do not reach him.
He presses you against the warm, energon-free metal along his intake, securing your back with two digits to prevent any attempts at escape. Like a cat seeking affection, he nuzzles against you a few times, rubbing your entire body and ruining your clothes and hair in the process.
The softness that envelops him soothes his jealousy. Not completely, for he would prefer a far less innocent form of touch, eagerly anticipating that moment, but it is enough to satiate, if only slightly, his hunger for you.
But only for a moment, because he quickly grows bored of simple cuddling. With his thumb, he tugs your shirt upward, revealing a stretch of beautiful, velvet skin, immediately pressesing his intake against it, leaving small but eager kisses.
“Optimus! Optimus, wait!” Your sweet voice quells the hatred and fury within him, but it awakens a different craving, one that has nothing to do with ripping Decepticons apart with his bare servos.
The way you call his name is beautiful. Desperate. But in the mania of his desire, he cannot tell whether it is pleasure or fear that laces your voice. What he does know, is that he needs to hear it again, but in a more private setting. In the seclusion of your quarters within the base, where the only interactions you would be allowed to have would be with him. Where only he would be granted the privilege of experiencing your melodious voice, your laughter, and your pleasure.
With his goal clearly defined, his pedes carry him towards your quarters of their own accord. He forgets about the energon still splattered across his frame — the deadly harvest of synthetic energon — and about his teammates, who continue to watch him in silent horror. His world narrows to you, to the sound of your voice still calling his name, to your occasional laughter whenever his intake tickles a particularly sensitive spot on your stomach. That is all that matters to him in this moment. That is the only thing of importance.
The only problem he is willing to concern himself with right now is the spike pressing painfully against the walls of its cage.
"Optimus!" You try once more. More forcefully, with enough anger and accusation to tear him from his trance of desire. His optics break away from your stomach, and he looks at you with a distant gaze. Yet he has no intention of stopping the way he’s caressing your body. Primus, he wants to devour you so badly. "Can you finally stop?!"
He obeys your demand, watching with invisible amusement as you sigh in relief. His intake remains on you, lips brushing against skin with feathery delicacy, dangerously close to your crotch. He knows he's overstepping, going too far, but he can't pull himself away from you, lost in visions of the future, in mass displacement, in the full-fledged idea of drowning in you.
His glossa, as if it had a mind of its own, slips out from his intake. The tip of his Cybertronian tongue grazes your navel, timidly trailing downward—but before Optimus makes a mistake he will regret for the rest of his life, he feels a kick against his cheek.
Your kick.
Weak, faint, one easily mistaken for an angry kiss, but firm enough to make him retract his glossa. And most importantly, it finally gives you a chance to say something longer than just sweetly crying out his name.
"Christ, why are you so pent-up today?"
"I have dreamed of you for an entire solar cycle. I withered with longing, waiting until I could finally hold you in my servo." He opens up to you, finally gathering the strength and courage to do so. Even if his boldness is artificial.
"I'm glad to hear that, but you've gotten a bit ahead of yourself, my love."
Love. His optics widen slightly, as if that pet name were entirely new to him. And in a way, it was. Because its use reignites the urge to rush to your cozy four walls and beg you to feed him "dearest," "beloved," and "sweetspark" until he goes mad.
"Optimus." A foreign voice pierces through the veil of sweetness, pulling him away from you. Something he cannot accept. His faceplate, unusually expressive today, freezes with irritation because he does not want to be Optimus for anyone but you right now.
Debates ignoring the bitter call, returning his thoughts and attention to you, but a quick assessment of your irritated and rather dissatisfied expression convinces him that, this time, he should at least pretend to care about his teammates. He sincerely hopes you will reward him later for the magnanimity he is about to show them.
Still holding you close to his faceplate but covering more of you with digits to shield his treasure from prying optics, Optimus turns to Arcee, the one who had called him earlier.
"What matter requires my immediate attention, Arcee?" he asks in a sharp tone, so unlike the familiar and beloved gentle giant that it chills your blood.
Arcee must have felt something similar, as she narrows her eyes warily but does not yield under the pressure of her leader's anger.
"Ratchet left the hangar a few Earth hours ago. I can’t locate him, he’s not appearing on the radar or responding to comms."
"So he's with his partner," Optimus replies as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, clearly bored with the conversation.
"What makes you so sure? He mentioned going after Megatron himself. He could just as easily be dead or held prisoner on Megatron’s ship!"
"Arcee is right," you interject. "This isn't something to dismiss so easily."
Optimus sighs, exasperated. This is not how he envisioned spending his time with you. Did not expect to find so many obstacles standing between him and the sweet reward for reclaiming the mine.
"Check his human’s home first," Prime insists. "If he isn’t there, which is as close to impossible as can be, only then do you contact me. Is that clear?"
Arcee studies Optimus with a watchful gaze for a moment but, finding only cold, impenetrable stone, gives up on further argument. For a brief second, her optics shift to you in gratitude for speaking up for her, something that Optimus does not entirely approve of. He shields you further with his servo, a possessive movement, blocking you from any foreign gazes or interaction. At the same time, he straightens his back to appear even larger than he already is.
Today, you belong only to him.
"Fine," Arcee hisses. "Who should I take on recon?"
"Anyone," Optimus says. He ends the conversation by turning on his heel and continuing down the corridor.
His intake returns to nipping at your stomach, but this time, he does so more aggressively. Faster, as if trying to rid himself of the frustration gnawing at him while ensuring that all of your attention remains solely on him. The tip of his thumb starts to toy with the waistband of your pants, attempting to make up for the seconds lost discussing his best friend. In response, you deliver another kick to him.
This time, he finds it utterly adorable.
"Do you really not care what’s happening with Ratchet? You know, your best friend?"
"I feel no need to concern myself with Ratchet’s condition when he himself informed me of his whereabouts."
"What makes you so sure he got held up there?"
"Because I now understand how he felt, rushing home to his beloved when they accidentally called him. Because I feel exactly the same way at this very moment."
His keen optics do not miss the faint blush that blooms across your cheeks.
Primus. Grant him the strength not to devour you right here and now.
"Wait." You speak. You breathe a sigh of relief when he obeys your command, stopping right in front of the newly installed Cybertronian showers. He lifts an optical ridge, prompting you to continue.
"Could you at least wash the energon off yourself?"
"I am heading to the washracks," he states calmly. "I assume you wish to join me."
You nearly choke on your own saliva.
"Later. I have a feeling I’ll need them more later," you reply, and Optimus has to resist the sudden urge to abandon the washracks entirely and rip your clothes to shreds right here and now.
Divine intervention (your words) is the only thing preventing him from completely destroying both his and your reputation.
One last time before your brief separation, he presses a kiss to your stomach.
"I assure you, I will not take long. Wait for me in your quarters."
"As you wish, Opti."
Primus once again tested his self-control.
You shut the door and immediately press your back against it, needing even a second of respite from everything that just happened.
"I have dreamed of you for an entire solar cycle…"
Oh god.
Oh fuck.
Overwhelmed by his unusual assertiveness, you cover your burning cheeks with your hands. But you don’t stay in that position for long, realizing that your blush is nearly as hot as his intake, his glossa. You can still feel the remnants of his kisses on your stomach and the desperation he poured into them. The hot breath that, over and over again, enveloped your bare skin.
You can’t escape from those thoughts, drifting on the edge of madness, wondering what happened to your dignity that his hunger made you feel like a lovestruck teenager.
Who swapped your Optimus for this pent-up, horny beast?
And most importantly, why didn't you mind at all?
In an attempt to regain control over your body and thoughts that were drifting into the near future, you decide to occupy yourself with something. Anything, as long as it is quick and allows you to gather yourself while you wait for his return.
Once again, your mind returns to the searing heat of the glossa working on your stomach. Taking a deep, reassuring breath, you head towards the cabinet and pull out a glass.
Yes, water will do you good, cooling the fire and restoring clarity to your thoughts. Especially since it is only now that you realize the dryness in your throat. Then, you will unpack your clothes from the suitcase. Mhm, that’s a good plan, you think, taking a sip of water. You will certainly have enough time to change out of your old hoodie and sweatpants into something more befitting of Optimus Prime — even if the concept of fashion was still an enigma to him, not entirely comprehensible.
Reaching for the bottle again, planning to pour yourself another drink, you freeze with the glass at your lips as the door suddenly swings open. And through it steps none other than a mass-displaced Optimus Prime, leaving you dumbfounded.
"It hasn't even been five minutes!"
Now free of energon but still dripping water in a few places, he closes the door behind him. "Forgive me, my dearest, but I was compelled to hasten my return," he says.
You finish your water and place the glass at the far end of the counter, cursing internally that your plan has just crumbled due to his untamed excitement. "It’s fine. But seriously, you could’ve at least given me two more minu…tes."
The words die in your throat as you feel hundreds of kilograms of living metal pressing against your rear, pinning you to the kitchen counter. Apparently uncertain of the effectiveness of his trap, Optimus places a servo on the cold marble as well, blocking your escape from the side.
Not that you were planning to escape, really.
"I could not wait any longer for us to be alone," he whispers directly into your ear, warm breath subtly stirring your hair. "I need you, sweetspark."
The unfamiliar passion in his deep, thick voice plays with your skin, sending a wave of goosebumps down your spine.
You should feel alarmed — you know this well. Instinct urges you to try and flee, to break free from the predator, but you cannot. Because the truth is, you do not want to move. You want to take advantage of this small shift in your dynamic. To channel his fervor toward your own needs, burning, pulsing, demanding his spike.
"I need you too," you say, adopting a low, raspy tone that does not contrast with your quickened breath. You turn to face him, only to be immediately consumed by the green glow of his optics, which seem to burn even brighter than usual. Optimus presses his hips against you more firmly, and even through the layer of sweatpants, you can feel that he is on fire.
He leans over you, a servo curling around the back of your head, and finally, he devours you, his heated intake sealing over your lips. He kisses you ravenously, greedily, as if he had been starving for centuries, setting a pace you struggle to keep up with. You try, chasing after his intake as it leaves kisses on your lips over and over again, but it proves futile when Optimus decides to trace a path downward. He attacks the corner of your mouth, your chin, and the edge of your jaw before moving to your neck, leaving several quick kisses before pausing for a moment.
"I can endure no longer," he whispers, and to confirm his words, he gently bites the skin on the side of your neck, only to immediately soothe the mark with the tip of his glossa. "[Name], I beg you, if I do not ram my spike into you this instant, I am convinced I will explode," he confesses.
With processor turned to mush and need surging through his circuits, Optimus opens his interface panel. His engorged spike, already dripping pink transfluid from its tip, presses against your stomach, rubbing against the fabric and leaving, thankfully washable, rosy streaks. You cannot tear your gaze away from this pathetically shameless display, basking in the heat of his desire.
"Are you particularly attached to your current coverings?" he asks, snapping you out of your trance.
"No, um, not really. Why?"
"I am pleased to hear that," he replies.
He grips the loose fabric of your sweatpants and, with a single motion, tears them in half, leaving you clad only in your ruined, slick underwear. But not for long. Your panties meet the same fate as your sweatpants, joining the shredded fabric on the floor beneath your feet.
The sight of your heat shatters the deadly seriousness of his faceplate as Optimus smiles, satisfied. At last, he has reached the climax of his journey, having pushed through the jungle of team complications and the forced visit to the washracks. But for a sight as breathtaking as this, for the intoxicating scent of your desire seeping into his intake and clouding his processor, and, above all, for you, it had all been worth it.
"Exquisite," he murmurs, unable to tear his optics away from your valve, even as you struggle to remove your hoodie and bra. "I am the most fortunate mech in the history of Cybertron."
Without warning, he grips your thighs and lifts you into the air, ignoring your startled yelp, which quickly transforms into a delighted giggle. And Primus, if that was not the most beautiful sound in the universe… Optimus would have crushed every Decepticon into dust if it meant you enjoyed this mere glimpse of his strength.
He aligns the tip of his spike with your burning entrance, teasing your wet lips with a single subtle touch that nearly drives him to overload. But he wants to last. He must, though he knows his stamina will not grant him mercy tonight.
"Optimus," you try, "maybe we could move to the bed, huh?"
"Forgive my impatience, my dearest," he responds, "but I fear I can endure no longer."
"Mhm, alrighhh… ah!"
With a fluid motion, he slides his thick spike into you, fitting two puzzle pieces into perfect unity.
"Primus, [Name]!" he gasps.
His sharpened senses push him down the path of madness.
Your walls tighten around his spike, welcoming your lover with affectionate reverence, and Optimus is overtaken by a profound sense of belonging and rightness, as if, after a long day’s work, he has finally come home. Buried deep within you, lost in the nearly claustrophobic sensation of your tight heat enveloping his spike, he dares to believe that this place is more comforting than Cybertron itself. And if this were to be your daily reality, he would have no objections to remaining on Earth for eternity.
"Opti, ah, fuck…" you try, slightly dazed by the sheer enormity of him stretching you out. Secured by the servos gripping your thighs, you allow yourself to wrap your arms around his neck, bringing yourself closer to the ocean of green. Being this near, you have the impression that the alien color of his optics is about to swallow you whole. Which is not far from the truth when Optimus begins kissing your collarbones, lightly nipping at your skin, trying not to lose his mind while waiting for your magic words.
"You can move, sweetheart."
The roar of his engine makes it clear — he is beyond delighted to hear that.
"As you wish," he growls against your skin.
The liberation he feels at finally being able to pump his spike into your heat is exquisite, yet treacherous, for Optimus cannot restrain himself from setting a fast pace. His hips ram into yours over and over, savoring the sight of the slight bulge moving across your stomach and the wet sounds of transfluid mixing with your juices — the most intimate union of two species. He is burning up, overheating, but even that pales in comparison to the molten lava that sears him inside your valve. If he cared enough, he might worry that you would melt him, truly fusing you both into one.
"Holy Primus," he pants, digging his digits deeper into the flesh of your rear. In response to the slight sting, you tighten your arms around his neck. "I am not pulling out of you tonight. Not even for a single nanoklik."
"Hah, w-what the hell did that synthetic energon…" you start, but a single powerful thrust momentarily robs you of speech. Seeking balance and clarity, you press your forehead against the cool glass of his chassis, but the tremors Optimus sends through your entire body do not allow you to stay there for long. "…do to you? Where did my mech, the one who begged for the strap, disappear to?"
"He is… s-still here," he assures you, purring with delight as he feels your slick, gummy walls clench around his spike, practically milking him with every drag. With such encouragement from your body, he cannot afford to slow down, determined to grant you a climax that will make you see stars. Or rather, one of your first orgasms. "If you so desire, hrrn, you may see him later."
"I don't think I'll, fuck, have the strength for anything later," you reply, words constantly broken by moans or gasps for breath.
"A-a pity, hah! I had hoped that you, too, might manage to wear me out."
You feel the shape of a smirk against the skin of your neck, where his faceplate is currently nestled. Bastard — you think, but cannot stay angry at him for long when every thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. From the crown of your head to your curled-up toes. Optimus is lucky that his spike is so impossibly large. Otherwise, he would be treading on very thin ice tonight — something he proves moments later that he is more than willing to risk.
"My dearest," he murmurs into your neck. The involuntary clench of the softest valve he has ever known in his long life tells him that you enjoy his possessiveness. And what kind of servant would he be if he did not fulfill his master's every desire? "My most beloved. Mine to converse with, mine to kiss. Mine to interface with. Mine. Mine."
His greedy litany is abruptly cut short when your valve clamps down tightly around his spike.
"Ah, Opti!" you cry out. "I'm about to—"
"I as well, ah, I…"
He buries his spike deep inside you, pressing his hips against yours and pulling you even closer. Sticky transfluid spurts from his spike, and you reward him with your own release, now fully sealing your union. And though Optimus fills you perfectly, a few stray drops of your mingled love manage to escape your stretched cunt, soiling the insides of your thighs.
Chasing the divine bliss of overload, Optimus does not grant you much time to rest. He starts moving his hips once more, pushing his transfluid deeper into your body in preparation for a refill.
And at that exact moment, amidst the wet, filthy sounds of his spike plunging into your valve, a faint knocking echoes through the room. Barely audible to you over your own panting, moans, and his loudly revving engines, but Optimus has no trouble detecting the intruder. Their presence disrupts his complete surrender to pleasure, irritating him, bursting the fragile illusion that the world ends with you.
"Frag off," he growls loudly, never ceasing to frag your heat.
Your gazes meet for a brief moment, but Optimus does not hold eye contact for long, too agitated to acknowledge your questioning expression. Instead, he directs his intake toward your chest, stuffing your soft flesh into his mouth. His glossa immediately gets to work, gliding over your swollen nipple, licking and sucking to suppress the stream of curses and sins threatening to spill forth. To ensure you do not collapse backward, one arm wraps around your back, delighting in the discovery that he can afford to gather your other breast into his servo as well. Which he does, kneading the soft flesh like a stress ball.
"My dearest," he repeats his mantra between the worship of your nipple and breast. "My [Name]."
"My Opti," you return the sentiment, stroking the back of his helm. "My good mech."
An involuntary honk of his horn and an exceptionally deep thrust convince you that you have chosen your words well. Even at the cost of losing the ability to walk tomorrow.
#muletia writes#transformers x reader#transformers x human#optimus x reader#optimus prime x reader#obsessed!optimus#valveplug
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SHE ft. SATORU & SUGURU / Reader but check your window.. he’s at your window 𓈒ིུ𖥨᩠ׄ݁˖

on one of your few off days you decided to fill the night with a true blood marathon and shitty snacks. unfortunately for you, a bump in the night suddenly stills all your plans
𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⠀ TAGS ╲ pre-established relationship | “dub-con” | roleplay | ghostface kink | double penetration | porn with little plot | knife play | degradation kink | slight predator and prey | overuse of pet names | rough sex | manhandling | oral sex | threesome | reader is depicted as black but of course this fic is for everyone
𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⠀ NOTES ╲ i posted this on wattpad & ao3 & completely forgot to post this here. if you know my old account “selfishdoll” i made a similar fic before that a lot of people loved. this is a rewrite / rework. i was supposed to make a continuation but 🤷🏾♀️. also this is a way to ease from mouthwashing back into jjk. don’t worry i’m not done with mw i just would like to get back writing jjk again. as always please excuse any typos & or grammar mistakes <3
"C'mon baby.." You crooned softly, blinking and squinting in an attempt to spot your beloved dog. It was dark outside, the sky painted in a pretty black with specks of white lazily dotted across the canvas. And while your backyard light helped your sight, it did little when your black dog seemed to mix in with the background. Regardless after a still moment the pretty little thing came bundling from the darkness, tail wagging and rushing into your home. You smiled, sliding the glass door closed and flicking the lock— listening for that signature click to assure it was locked.
You turned in time to see the puppy waltz over to his bed, scratching at the perfectly folded blanket for a moment before being satisfied with the bundle he created. You had no idea why you continued to fold the blanket at all. Maybe you enjoyed watching the furry beast mess with it, or maybe you were just a control freak that needed order in every way; even when it came to old, dingy rags that belonged to a canine.
Anyway, tonight wasn't the night to delve into that. You had planned to lay across the couch, watching True Blood while devouring just about every snack in your house.
Whoever created the system known as "Paid Time Off" deserved a huge smooch.
You walked over to your kitchen, opening the fridge and snatching a cold soda and water bottle. Setting them off to the side, you then moved onto a small box of assorted chocolates all ranging from caramel and other delicious nougats. Finished with your cold items you shut the fridge, moving over to your pantry and snatching the door open. Your eyes moved about the cans, noodles, and other dried goods before settling on the little corner dedicated to your chips and cookies.
You came closer, outstretching your arm towards the corner and grabbing the first bag. Dragging it forward, you quickly realize your laziness would be the death of you; given the moment your hand moved the bag brushed against a box of elbow macaroni, knocking it to the ground. The force caused the contents to spill right there infront of you, a loud groan escaping you as you looked at the mess. What's more, your dog rushed from his bed, bounding over in hopes of lapping up the hard food, clearly reacting on greed rather than knowing what it even was.
"Nuh uh— go, back to your bed!" You huffed in an authoritative tone, watching the greedy thing rush back to his bed with a little gruff. You rolled your eyes, placing your chips off to the side and grabbing your broom from the closet beside you. Slowly you began to sweep up your mess, assuring to get every single noodle as not to attract bugs or greedy dogs that act like they haven't been fed in years.
Once swept all into a pile, you kneeled down to hold your dustpan flat— balancing and using your other hand to sweep the trash into it. A minute passed and you were finished, rising to your full height and walking over to the trash bin; emptying the dustpan. With that little hiccup solved you moved on; putting the cleaning supplies away, washing your hands, and grabbing your snacks on the way to the couch.
You walked around the plush furniture, flopping on the makeshift palette of blankets you created. Sinking into the comfort, you reached over for the remote and started the episode; a blissful smile crossing your features. You opened your chips, pressing the bag up against your arm whilst using your other hand to grab one, chomping without a care.
Your eyes focused on the tv screen for a while before they shifted over to a sudden light on your coffee table. Your phone. You reached over, grabbing the device and bringing it closer. There, after using facial ID, you noticed a missed call. The contact?
Unknown.
Your eyebrows drew close, swiping up and clicking your call logs. Pressing the one labeled unknown you watched it ring for a moment, pressing speaker as you were too lazy to bring it to your ear. It rung for what seemed like minutes, your hand slowly going slack from how long you were waiting. And just when you thought of putting your phone down the familiar sound of the call being accepted echoed throughout your living room.
"Hello?" You called softly, bringing the receiver closer to your mouth. When you heard nothing, for the first few seconds you pulled back; wondering if they ended it. But no, the seconds counted by, both phones clearly still on call. So you gave a much louder greeting, hoping for a response.
And, you were given one. You just.. didn't quite enjoy it.
Heavy breathing came from the other line, fanning against the receiver in a rather unnerving rhythm. A prank caller? The possibility ran through your mind as you listened, bringing the phone close to your ear. You sat there, unmoving— attempting to listen harder than what physically possible.
In doing so, you didn't notice your beloved dog hop up from his rest until his barks caused you to nearly jump out of your skin. You spun around, spotting his attention to the glass door separating the outside from your home. Your stomach quickly became a pit of fear, rising from your couch and waltzing over to the kitchen.
Flicking the overhead light on, you soon reached the patio light. As nervous as ever you flicked the light on, anticipating the worst. But, as your eyes scanned what you could see, nothing popped out. Nothing alarming, nothing worth barking over surely.
You sighed, shoulders falling from its previous stiff position, glancing over at your phone. To your surprise the call had ended in the midst of you inspecting the backyard. Curiosity grew slowly, but you decided against acting on it.
Hearing someone breathe in the phone for another ten mins just wasn't as exciting as it seemed.
You turned the light off, turning to your pet that was currently standing behind you, watching the backyard just as intently. You shook your head, leaning down and collecting him into your arms.
"Time to go to bed honey."
You murmured. You walked towards a door connected to your dining room, opening it and placing the dog onto his feet. Like clockwork he was walking over to his crate tucked to the side, curling up in another bed placed within it. You kneeled down, locking the crate's door before standing.
"Night baby." You spoke as if he could understand, turning on your heel and closing the door behind you. Just in time for your phone to go off.
The ringer was loud, an annoying mistake that caused you to quickly press your finger against the sound button, lowering its volume. You brought your phone to your face, contorting your expression the moment you read the contact.
Unknown.
Okay, this is getting annoying.. You thought to yourself, accepting the call as you moved back to your couch. With your annoyance slightly clear you greeted the caller, bottom making contact with the cushions and sinking in.
For moment all was silent, causing your annoyance to deepen. Again, it seemed you have fallen for another prank or scam— regardless of what it was, it was ruining your True Blood all nighter. You opened your mouth to speak again, only to be rudely interrupted by another's voice.
"Hello."
The voice was gravely, scratchy, and deep.. slightly unnerving as well. You waited for the person to speak again, but was met with nothing. Just.. more heavy breathing.
"Uhm.." You dragged, attempting to remain polite despite your frustration. "—You've called twice already.. is this like a wrong number situation or?.."
For a moment the voice didn't speak, as if fully processing what you said. Then, they muttered in that same voice;
"Oh, really? I'm sorry, I must have called the wrong number."
Your shoulders relaxed, leaning back against your couch. "Hey, it's okay. It happens to me sometimes too." You decided to laugh it off, a little surprised when you heard the stranger do the same. "Well, goodbye—"
"Wait.. we don't have to cut the call so soon."
Your eyebrows twitched, the amusement from before slowly trickling away. "Uhm.. what?"
"C'mon, you don't seem to be busy. How about we chat for a while?"
You looked around, as if searching for an imaginary camera to capture your reaction; which was a look of disbelief that slowly formed into a scowl.
"Er— I am. I'm trying to watch True Blood."
"True Blood? That one southern vampire show?" The stranger questioned, listening out for your little hum of acknowledgement. He chuckled softly, a breathy thing that fanned into your phone. "So, you like scary media?"
Your eyes rolled, "True Blood isn't scary by any means but— yes, I guess I do like most scary things."
"Yeah? What's your favorite?"
"And why on Earth would I tell you?"
You heard rustling on the other side of the line, causing your interest to pique. You wanted to ask what he was doing, but something told you not to. Regardless, you weren't sure he would give much of an answer anyway. You two didn't even know each other's names after all.
"For fun. Don't you like to have fun?"
"With complete strangers? No." You huffed, biting the inside of your cheek the moment the other laughed. As he talked more, you couldn't help but think how attractive his voice was. Perfectly deep, yet playful enough— as if you could practically hear his smile. Your fingers wrapped around the t-shirt you wore, cringing internally.
A voice? Really? Was it that easy to get you going?
"I.. uh, I guess my favorite would have to be Hellraiser."
"Oh wow..I was expecting something like Halloween or IT. You're a bigger horror nerd than I took you for."
For some reason that caused a sense of pride to enter your body, lips curling into a little smile. "Yeah, I guess I am."
"If that's the case, you wouldn't mind a little pop quiz would you? Since you're.. such a huge fan."
Your eyes trailed over to the television, realizing your little sexy vampire marathon just didn't seem as appealing anymore. Your lips pressed together, lying across the couch and humming softly.
"What do I get when I get all of them right?"
"We'll see.." The other hummed automatically, more shuffling being heard from his end. "But of course, wrong answers will be punished."
"But of course." You chuckled, eyes rolling a bit.
"First question, who was the main antagonist in Hellraiser?"
You scoffed, an are you serious? expression crossing your face. "Pinhead. Duh. If it's gonna be this easy, I should get back to my show."
The stranger laughed softly, "Just warming up. Have some patience." The call went silent for a moment, you assuming he was thinking of another question. This gave you the opportunity to scroll through the many horror flicks you've watched, picking out facts and guessing questions he may ask. A moment passed before he interrupted your concentration;
"What 2016 South Korean zombie film takes place on a train?"
Another, easy one. Truly if it continued like this you might just have to hang up. "Train to Busan."
"Right again! That's two in a row."
"I told you I was good."
"Mm.." The stranger hummed, "How about this.. what movie follows a deaf girl in a world infected by creatures that only react to sound?"
"A quiet place! C'mon stranger y—"
"I'm sorry but that's— incorrect!"
You blinked quickly, eyebrows coming close. "You're lying! It is a quiet p—"
"While you are right, the movie I had in mind was The Silence."
"How the hell was I supposed to know that? Who the hell watched that movie anyway?!" You spoke, sucking your teeth. Your annoyance simmered, nearly boiling over as you heard the other cackle over the line.
"What a sore loser. Since it's only one, you won't get a punishment this time."
You huffed, sinking deeper into the cushions and grumbling something intelligible. "Continue."
He chuckled, enjoying your annoyance far too much. "What are the three rules when taking care of a Mogwai in the film, gremlins?"
You hopped up, grinning ear to ear; confident you had this one in the bag. Your hand stretched out, a finger curling to rest into your palm; "Don't feed it after midnight," another lowered, "no bright lights, and—" the third finger staggered, your eyes widening the moment you realized a ridiculously timed brain fart was interrupting.
"Don't uh.." You dragged, hoping the filler word would somehow cause your brain to work. Of course it didn't, causing you to sit there, mouth gaping like an idiot. A cold sweat brushed over you the moment the other started talking again.. realizing what his words were—
A countdown.
"5...4...3.." The stranger stretched the three; voice masked with amusement, enjoying your struggle. You stumbled, searching urgently for the words that just weren't there.
"Don't—"
"Times up!" The stranger interrupted, laughter hinging onto his words. "Two in a row! Losing your spark so quickly?" He taunted you.
You sighed heavily, leaning back over the couch with your eyes pinched closed in annoyance. You really shouldn't be this frustrated, it was just an odd game between strangers— nothing more. It's not like you were getting money for it. Whatever. You tried to convince yourself, eyes blinking open slowly, widening the moment your vision focused.
There in your backyard, you could have sworn, maybe you were just being paranoid— but.. you swore you saw a figure simply standing there; separated by the glass. But as quickly as you saw it, it was gone, as if nothing more than your mind playing tricks.
You swallowed heavily, turning to lay on your stomach and squint. Hard. Somehow trying to make your eyesight better than what it truly was. But as you continued such strain, you didn't see a thing. Nothing. No explanation, at all.
"You still there, little miss horror fanatic?"
His words caused you to jump, nearly forgetting the cold device pressed to your ear. You pulled the phone back, lips pursing together silently, trying to relax your frantic heart. Talking to a stranger and a horror quiz just wasn't the greatest mix, was it? No wonder you were acting so paranoid.
Slowly you turned to face your television, sinking into the cushions.
"I'm here."
"Good, good— we have to figure out your punishment after all."
You rolled your eyes, the fear that was once placated you, disappearing. "And what exactly is my punishment? You hanging up?" You joked, grinning a bit the moment you heard his soft chuckle.
"No, nothing like that. Maybe taking your power will suffice?"
"Wha—"
All at once, every fan, light, and even your television seemed to shut off. You jumped up from the couch, eyes struggling against the darkness of your house as you frantically searched for the remote. You finally found it, slamming your fingers into the power button— but to no avail; it refused to turn on. This caused your anxiety to spike, shallow breaths escaping you.
"Getting scared?"
Without thinking you pulled your phone back from your ear, slamming the end call button. What.. just happened? How did— how did he turn off your power? You desperately searched for an answer, trying to rationalize this madness playing before you.
There was no way he turned off your power purposely.. right? There was just..
You decided to stop thinking, bringing your phone up and pressing the flashlight button. Your hand moved, lighting up your living room— a small act of comfort for your rapidly beating heart. You walked towards the wall, flicking at the switch only to sigh the moment it refused to turn on.
You debated your options. If he had truly been able to shut off your power, how did he do it? Manually? If so, going outside just seemed like the worst choice. Maybe he did it remotely; maybe some kind of phone emp that.. killed everything but your phone?
"That makes.. total sense." You spoke, ridiculing yourself just a little. You leaned against your wall for a moment, the cool structure consoling you. Only, for a moment.
You jumped as your phone rang again, completely shutting off your flashlight, rendering you back to darkness. With a shaky hand you brought the phone close, sucking in a breath as you spotted the name.
You accepted the call, "What did you do?! Why.. why can't I turn on anything?"
Through sputters the other replied, "I did say you would receive a punishment, why are you so surprised?"
"I don't want to play this game anymore, just—" You slowly breathed, trying to calm down. "..please, fix my power."
Your request received silence for a still moment, the only sound being your heart begging to escape your chest. You stood, against that same wall that once comforted you— now doing the exact opposite.
Finally, he spoke.
"If you get this answer correctly, I just might."
You pulled the phone from your ear to release a shaky breath, eyes squinting closed. You had no faith in yourself for answer nor the stranger to not give you a trick question. But, it seemed the only way to get what you wanted was to play by his rules.
"Fine." You muttered, bringing the phone back to your ear.
"Good. So I shouldn't expect whining if you get it wrong and I punish you — right?" The smile was clear in his speech, a potent dare that he was just begging you to accept. And against your better judgment, you did; muttering out a simple yes squeezing the fabric of your clothes between your fingers.
"Excellent! And to make this even more fun, how about a speed round? Ready? Let's go; what is the name of the fictional town in which the events of Halloween take place?"
"Haddonfield."
"Correct!— Which horror movie features a family being terrorized by doppelgängers?—"
"Us!"
"Right again! Two more sweetheart, and you'll get your beloved power back!"
You breathed heavily, tightening the hold on your phone. Calm down.. you can't think when you're so frantic.
"In 'The Grudge' what is the name of the spirit that curses the house?"
"Ka—kayako Saeki—!"
The other laughed heartily, "You are on a roll! Last one, it's for alllllll the marbles.. where am I?"
In that moment it felt like someone was squeezing your throat, rendering you breathless; clawing at an imaginary hand to fight for breath. Your eyes danced around your dark house, chest tight as little tears pricked at your eyes.
"What?.." Your tone was breathy, fear clearly running through your veins.
"You heard me." The way he spoke, all amusement, all laughter ceasing to exist. This.. wasn't a game anymore, was it?
"Where.. am.. I?"
Tears were streaming at this point, head whipping back and forth between your backyard door and the front. You struggled to pick, knowing the wrong answer meant your demise. You couldn't.. you had to guess right, y—you just.. had to!
"The front door! You're on my porch!"
"Go check."
You swallowed heavily, glancing at the door. Slowly, toy pulled yourself off the wall, shaky footsteps leading you forward. You couldn't hear a thing from the other line, making you wonder if he muted himself. Either way, you didn't care; the thought of hearing him at this moment was just too much to bear. You continued your snail like pace, shaky, gasping as you approached the door. A barrier between you and what you assumed was standing behind it, waiting for you.
You panted softly, watching your own hand reach for the knob as if an out of body experience. Expertly, routinely; your fingers flicked the lock, listening to the usual mechanism. Then, your palm enveloped the golden knob, twisting.. carefully.
Twist.. twist.. pull. Slowly, you opened the door, listening to the hinges for a soft moment before deciding to rip the bandage off— swinging it open the rest of the way, nearly hitting the wall behind if it wasn't for your hand.
And just like that.. all color drained from your face, as you glanced at your porch, your doorstep.
Your completely, empty, doorstep.
Laughter suddenly echoed from your phone, your blood running cold. You sputtered,
"Please! Please just give me another ch—"
Your speech was interrupted as heavy footsteps bounded from your stairs. You whipped around in time to spot a large figure cloaked in black, face covered rushing towards you. You screeched, scrambling to make it out of the door, only for his arms to suddenly wrap around your waist, stilling your movement.
"You lost.." The tone in your ear was sing-songy, arms tightening the more you struggled. You felt the plastic of his mask dig into your neck as he leaned into, fingers digging into your flesh almost perversely. "Poor, poor [Name]."
Before you could whine out, you were met with the sound of your power being restored. You gaped like a fish, confused completely. If he was here now, how the hell did it turn back on?
An answer quickly presented itself. One, you didn't quite like.
Footsteps carried from your porch, and through glossy eyes you spotted another figure approaching your home. The one holding you backed up a bit, carrying you with him— and allowing his partner-in-crime to enter your home. Once he did so, he shut the door behind him, locking it and snickering softly.
"I was gonna lose anyway.. wasn't I?"
"So smart.." The stranger, the mask you immediately recognized as Ghostface mumbled, approaching you. You whimpered the moment his fingers went for your face, caressing it slowly as his other hand reached for his mask, slowly lifting it halfway to reveal his simmering smirk.
Ghostface leaned close, lips pressing against the side of your eye, removing the tears. "I think we scared her too much.. Look at those tears."
The Ghostface behind you chuckled, pressing himself closer to effectively squish you between the two of them.
"I don't think so. She enjoyed this more than she let on, obviously." A hand released your waist to grasp your cheek, turning your face just a tad. "You got turned on by this.. didn't you? The thought of losing, the thought of us coming in here— claiming our reward and dealing out your punishment?"
You whined, unable to speak from their touches and the pressure. They took your lack of words as an answer, the Ghostface infront of you chuckling as his lips treaded down your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just to feel you shudder. While the other slowly backed the three of you to your couch.
Soon enough your bottom hit the plush cushions, unable to fully register what was happening as your lips were suddenly taken in a full kiss. You couldn't keep up at this point, feeling hands reach for your clothes; top gone, bottoms next. The cool air brushed against your skin, quickly warmed by their touch. You felt a hand ghost down the curve of your plush stomach, pushing past the elastic of your panties— gloved fingers brushing against your warm cunt.
"Soaking my fucking glove.." One spoke, clearly not the one kissing you as his lips continued to bite marks along your skin, sinking in deeply when you attempted to close your legs. "Don't be so shy.. let me in, sweetheart."
His words were soft, nearly comforting as you felt fingers spread you, another coming to circle your swollen bud. You finally pulled away from the kiss, a whisper of a moan escaping your swollen lips. You squirmed, not fighting, but unable to control yourself due to the pleasure.
The Ghostface that had just kissed you chuckled, leaning close to press his lips against the side of your face. "Feels that good.. huh?" His hand dragged your body, reaching your thighs, a soft huff escaping the moment he realized you still had your panties on.
"You're so lazy." His words were directed to his partner, tone ranging between annoyed and amused.
The other chuckled, continuing his the slow circles upon your clit, "You want them off so bad, do it yourself." And with that he devoured your mouth in a sweet kiss, tongue intruding your lips to spread along your wet caravan, reclaiming the space.
Ghostface 1 tutted softly, hand moving away from your body to instead sift through his pocket. Your eyes slowly opened, watching as he revealed a pocket knife, flipping it open in on swift motion. You whined softly as you felt the sharp tip drag across your skin, the cold silver causing you to shiver far too harshly..
"Relax.. I would hate to knick you." He spoke, though doing one more playful drag before reaching your hip, carefully catching your panty onto the sharp edge before flicking it up— ruining them. You would have complained if it wasn't for the mouth occupying you at the moment.
Ghostface 1 tossed away the knife onto your coffee table, grabbing the ruined garments and tearing it off the rest of the way. With that, his companion used his free hand to grace the inside of your thigh, pushing it open whilst the other did the same; exposing your wet cunt.
With more access, another hand reached low, gathering your dripping essence, smoothing it between his gloved fingers. And with a single push two fingers were inserting you, reaching deep and spreading against your gummy walls.
Again you pulled away from a kiss, moaning— pitch piquing as those damned digits curled. Ghostface 2 chuckled, continuing the ministrations on your pretty bud while his lips carried down your form.
"So fucking wet.. you like this? All this attention?"
Little tears of pleasure threatened to tread down your face as your legs shook, reaching over to squeeze one of their arms— which of course, was more than welcomed. You felt a free hand knead your breast, thumb flicking and pressing into your nipple gently.
"Hey, he asked a question— or are you too fucked out already?" The first Ghostface chuckled, quickening the pace of his fingers, the squelches of your pretty pussy echoing through the room. He leaned close, nipping at your skin, scissoring you and spreading you open.
"Ye—yes!" You were finally able to muster, a band forming and wounding in your stomach as they continued. Your response was enough for them, laughter carrying between them, one even softly mocking your declaration.
"Such a fucking slut, all excited over two Ghostfaces using you up."
"Ruining you for just about anyone else.."
Your head rolled back against the couch, as blissfull sounds escaped, eyes pinched close from the pleasure. Your thighs tightened with each pass of one's finger upon your clit, and the other's thrust of their fingers. They were right, you were ruined— completely. And they had just begun to play with you.
You whimpered and whined, fingers digging into their covered arms, crying out as a hot tongue spread along your areola, dragging the swollen bud into his mouth. You were close, so, so close. That end heading towards you rapidly, stomach tightening into knots as pure gibberish fell from your pretty lips.
And all too quickly you were coming undone, moaning so loudly you were sure the neighbors could hear. For a moment your vision was blurred, the only feeling being their fingers helping your ride out your high.
"What a mess, your poor couch."
"Here, be good and clean me up." Soaked, gloved fingers were dragging across your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open gently. With little issue your lips parted, allowing his digits to press against your tongue. You dragged your appendage across him, tasting your own arousal and bitter leather. You continued your show, gagging slightly the moment he pushed his fingers just a bit farther.
"Look at that.." Ghostface 2 mumbled, far too excited as his piercing gaze resting on you. Suddenly he was standing up, walking around your couch to stand behind you. Ghostface 1 seemed to catch onto his plan, given he was removing his fingers before grasping you a bit roughly, switching you onto your knees.
Your hands held the hard frame of your couch, breathing softly as a gentle hand grasped your chin. Your eyes carried up to the long figure infront of you, warming as his thumb wiped away the combined mess on your lips.
"Pretty girl.." He cooed, leaning down to your height to plant his lips to your own. Your eyes fluttered shut, moaning into the kiss as you felt the other behind you spread your legs wide, hand brushing across your back to make the perfect arch.
In unison you heard fabric moving before two pairs of belts were being fiddled with. This caused your heart to skip a beat, anticipation and want shuddering throughout you.
Soon enough you were being released from the kiss, eyes landing upon the one before you, watching as he tugged down his bottoms. Short tufts of fluffy white hairs lined his belly and his groin, carefully groomed. He was long, length a pretty pale, veins running along his shaft with a hot red tip.
"No way.. don't tell me you got this excited just from seeing his dick." Ghostface 1 chuckled behind you, dragging his knuckles across your snatch for a moment before gently slapping your messy cunt, the soft plap echoing throughout the room.
You gasped out, lunging forward just a bit from the sudden action. He didn't let you move much though, fingers dipping into your sides and pulling you against him, feeling his own heavy length gliding across you.
Your attention was once against moved as a hand grabbed your chin, thumb pressing against your lips and parting them. You moaned the moment his tip pressed against you, feeling his pre-cum smear across the brim. And slowly, he fed you each inch of his cock, his own groan causing you to shudder.
And what's more, just when you thought you could relax, you felt the other's tip glide across your slit before slowly pushing in, spreading you so perfectly.
As if made for them.
Ghostface 2 started first, pulling his hips back slowly before pushing them forward, filling your mouth easily. Your cheeks hallowed, jaw going slack as his slow pace started. His breath was heavy against the mask, hand rising to your hair and curling his fingers through it while his other hand gently caressed your face.
Ghostface 1 was next, hands digging to your hips as his own hips pulled back until only his tip remained inside of you. With little care he thrusted all the way back in, stifling a laugh as a surprised moan escaped you.
"Sorry, should I have warned you?" He questioned, refusing to give you even a moment to reply before his thrusts picked up, driving his cock into you with no mercy. With each push your breasts were pressing against the couch, the soft fabric stimulating you even more.
A struggled gasp escaped you as a tug came at your hair, fingers grabbing your cheeks rather roughly as the Ghostface infront of you picked up his own pace— reacting out of pure jealousy.
"Don't give him so much attention, sweetheart. Just focus on me." Ghostface 2 chuckled, speech stuttering as he continued. Your mouth felt far too good, sucking him so gently as your tongue dragged along his length. The man's head tilted back, muttering swears trying to keep control as he fucked your pretty face.
Meanwhile Ghostface 1 chuckled, leaning over your form to press his lips right against your ear. "Yet who's the one making you feel so good?" He spoke, slamming his hips, your ass rippling with each hit. You melted, so palpable as a string moans escaped you, smothered by the warm length occupying your mouth. You could barely focus, barely breath— relying only on feeling.
Your mouth being stuffed. Your cunt as well. The way you shook with their rhythmic thrusts, nearly toppling over if it wasn't for one's strong hold. How your arousal and much more trickled down your thighs, definitely dirtying your couch even further.
All of it.. so overwhelming yet, so, so good. You didn't need to think, breathe, nothing. Just kneeling there was enough, allowing the pleasure to consume you.
Tears trailed down chubby cheeks, wiped away by your second lover's tender thumb, gentle compared to how roughly he was using your mouth. Words of praise and encouragement fell from their lips, falling on deaf ears as you felt yourself grow more lost.
Far too quickly you felt your peak approaching, withering as the two pumped in and out of you without a care. You squeezed the couch underneath you, garbled moans escaped you as you spasmed; releasing all over your lover.
"Squeezing me so damn tightly.." The man behind you muttered, the sound of shuffling and something hitting the coffee table being heard. Once again a warm body was covering you, except the familar feeling of silky long hair tickled your exposed skin.
"Felt that good, huh? Can't believe you convinced us to do this— [Name]." Suguru chuckled right into your ear, head going slack as his ruts inside you continued you.
You would be embarrassed, mouth loose with excuses if it wasn't already full. Your eyes settled upon your other lover, moaning against his dick— tongue nice and flat the moment his hips stuttered.
And with a sharp groan he was painting your mouth, pulling you close to assure you didn't waste a single drop.
Suguru was last to let go, fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave marks. In one last thrust he was filling you up, shivering as he felt your walls tightened from the motion.
Satoru's hand rose, feeling at the mask for a moment before tugging it off; tossing it to the side to reveal his pretty face. His grin was far too apparent, pulling his hips back the moment he was satisfied. He watched carefully as you swallowed his mess, leaning down to kiss at your face and remark how good you were.
"You have fun?"
"Just a little." You spoke softly, ignoring the soft ache of your voice. You shivered as your dark-haired lover unsheathed himself within you, feeling him switch around to sit on the couch.
Soon enough his hands were reaching for you, pulling you to sit on his lap whilst his face rested in your neck.
"More than a little, you were practically screaming with glee when I grabbed you."
"Oh shut it.."
#black fanfic writer#chubby reader#black fanfiction#black tumblr#black!reader#poc writer#black reader#jjk geto suguru smut#jjk x black y/n#jjk x fem!reader#jjk x fem reader#jjk geto smut#jjk x black reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#gojo x black reader smut#gojo x black!reader smut#gojo x black!reader#gojo satoru x black reader#gojo x black reader#gojo satoru x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#geto x fem!reader#geto suguru x black!reader#geto x fem reader#geto x black reader#geto smut#geto suguru smut
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manon as ur monster gf hcs
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manon is a phantom, so she can control her tangibility at will. it makes for a very interesting life together…
phantom manz tends to slip through objects when she’s relaxed. it takes a lot of concentration to keep herself solid, so if she’s asleep, or you’re making her comfy, there’s a great chance she’ll fall straight to the bottom of the apartment building.
phantom manz is incredibly cold and not in the way normal undead typically are. she genuinely drops the temperature around her a good 15 degrees, let alone her body temperature… 😞 you can’t explain it–manon just carries the cold with her, probably a side effect of being a phantom. she doesn’t like to touch you for this reason, not wanting to sap the heat from your body. you have to convince her you’ll be fine for hours before she does, fighting back shivers so she’ll be happy. you never mind too much.
phantom manz has a glow around her! it’s cute during the holidays, NOT when it’s 11:00 at night and she’s snoring. you buy a lot of eye masks… especially because she likes to steal yours.
phantom manz has a couple stab wounds on her ghastly form. she doesn’t hide it from you either, she’ll talk about how she died everytime she thinks you’re curious. she was stabbed to death and seriously doesn’t remember anything from her past life. it would’ve bothered anyone else, but manon likes to live in the moment🙏
phantom manz has a tendency to unintentionally possess you… every time she shares too much contact, she starts melting into your skin, and mixing her spirit with yours. it’s a really intimate experience, feeling more like a way to share your attraction to each other rather body snatching. she always gives your body back.
phantom manz can pull your spirit out of your body! it doesn’t happen often, and definitely doesn’t happen unless you want it to. the first time, she mentioned it offhandedly and you wanted to try… needless to say it didn’t go very well, her having to pick you up the whole time lest you fall into the underworld. with a lot more practice though, you’re able to float no problem😼 she likes to say you were born to be a ghost.
phantom manz can’t eat unless she takes your body, so going out gets a bit awkward. you two are banned from 3 fine dining establishments for freaking out the customers. ( apparently it’s not normal for someone to talk to themselves like that… or convulse like that… or contort like– )
phantom manz’s favorite dates are the ones where you take her to paint or make other types of art. she’s a really creative individual, choosing to put her everything into, her words, “the beauty of the world.” she can’t really do anything extreme because she’ll phase right through it. ( it took weeks to get her used to riding in a car. )
speaking of art, phantom manz takes love letters extremely serious, seeing them as a lost art on its own. expect to come home to them every single day–each one about an entirely different thing about you that she adores.
phantom manz likes when you guys share intimacy a lot. it’s kinda hard, seeing as kissing her is like kissing a wet glass in antarctica, and kissing you is like kissing a heater full blast in death valley, but you find a way to make it work. you like to describe it as universe’s most evil joke, but she chooses to think of you two like mercury’s light and dark sides.
phantom manz’s best friends are her pen and the tv remote… she’s always watching really bad reality television and then rewriting it to her liking; love island stood no chance. you read every rewrite and tease her about them.
phantom manz will pull your soul to influence your decisions sometimes–ONLY for small things, like when you both can’t decide on dinner for the night.
with your okay, phantom manz will write her intials on your skin, making it so cold that it burns. by the time it heals, you’ve got an “MB” on your neck.
phantom manz isn’t possessive or even jealous really. she trusts you with her life, or what’s left of it, and even if she didn’t–she could check if she wanted to. your soul can’t lie.
phantom manz is your number one hype man for EVERYTHING… sometimes it gets to be a little much, like that time you slipped on your shit in the bedroom and sprained your tailbone and she cheered all the way to the hospital.
you and phantom manz always take at least an hour out of y’all’s day to spend alone. it helps you connect more while together, but also be your own people🙏
phantom manz doesn’t like to argue for long! you guys always find a way to talk it out. she’s a firm believer in not going to sleep angry at each other.
phantom manz puts her hand through your stomach when she’s mad at you. it freaks you out even when you already know it’s coming.
your first meeting with phantom manz almost never happened 😭 you couldn’t see her due to the sunlight making her almost invisible, leading to your collision seconds later. unfortunately, manon is more like a rock than an intangible being when she puts her back into it. she helps you onto your feet, apologizing for knocking you over and offers to buy you coffee even though you ran into her. the next morning, she’s already in the shop with a smile and drinks in hand, introducing herself. you guys have a really good conversation until you noticed her untouched cup, and she sheepishly admits that she’d need to possess you to drink it. in the end, both cups are empty, and coming to, there’s a new contact in your phone.
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in conclusion phantom manon ily u should caress me with those cold fingers 😍 ( AND YES IK THATS SARAH SCREAMS.. i couldn’t find good operetta ones )
#katseye ⭐️#wlw#katseye x reader#manon doesn’t get enough fics spreading the manon agenda!#meret manon x reader#manon x reader#manon bannerman#katseye manon#meret manon#katseye imagines#manon bannerman x reader#ko’s works
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The other Bronze – Part 15
The rest of camp went by like a blur. Sarina continued to include you more and more in the daily tasks of training and organisation of the national team and slowly you found joy in your new role (the added bonus of being allowed to yell at Lucy to run faster or to yell at Leah to bring her knees up higher just played right into it). The dutch Head coach saw with growing pride how you transitioned into your position as her new addition of staff. Getting you to sign the contract was one of a task. You didn't give in easy having the legal department rewrite your contract multiple times adding clauses to protect your relationships – if it was the family relationship with Lucy (and let's be honest Keira) or your romantically relationship with Georgia. You also pushed the limit of salary until the very last penny – not that you were able to access the money since it will go straight in an account which was under observation by your guardian Jill Scott. You yourself had a deal with Jill that if you needed some extra pocket money she would take it out of your account but only if you could give a good reason.
Just like now when you were about to book a whole as bag pipers band to pipe “Scotland the Brave” at exactly midnight outside Sarinas room to welcome her new age – aka her birthday. You knew that your adoptive Mom hated bag pipes with passion since it was too squeaky and too loud in her opinion but since you were technically Scottish you couldn't care less. Also you didn't give a flying fudge (Keira banned any swearword since Less, Toons and you went a little overboard one evening at dinner watching a mens game on the tablet) that you would wake up probably the whole hotel – you loved your Mama Rina too much to care. Of course Jill was straight on board with your shenanigans being a big kid herself. So you spent around two hours looking for the perfect pipers and comparing different prices. You settled on three pipers, an additional drummer and three songs. “Scotland the Brave”, “Auld lang syne” and “When the Saints go Marching in” - all very squeaky and loud. You were sure Mama Rina would love you for your great Birthday present – she'll probably strangle you to death but it was worth it.
You were so happy with your purchase that you entered the dining room whistleing and smiling.
“What got you all smiley Bubs?” your sister asked you smiling too seeing you in a good mood
“Just a good day” you answered smiling even wider
“Why do I feel trouble?” Keira now asked appearing next to you
“Maybe that extra Banana at breakfast?” you looked at her innocently
“No.. no it has nothing to do with the banana” the blonde mused giving you a once over
“You're just being paranoid” you waved her off skipping over to your girlfriend and best friends
“I just know you too well” Keira yelled after you and you (again) waved her off with a “yeah yeah”
“She's up to something” the blonde said turning around to Lucy who was about to stuff a bread roll in her mouth stopping mid air
“Let her be Kei... she's slowly getting back to normal after her episode in Barcelona... you and I both know she's still pretending a lot and me freaking out with G didn't help” Lucy said as she watched you shoving Tooney around laughing loudly when the brown haired girl ran into Leah.
“Oh it certainly didn't... and we WILL have a talk about it when we're back in Spain” the blonde answered sending your sister an angry glare “What were you thinking?”
“I wasn't... I just saw her crying and my brain short circuit...” your sister said slowly
“On one side I understand Luce... I do... because seeing her cry is the worst thing in the world – but you can't do that... you can't lose control like this” Keira said softly
“I know” Lucy huffed finally taking a bite of her bread roll
“I DARE YOU LESS!!” Keira and Lucys eyes snapped immediately over to you when you laughed loudly
“No... NO... you can dare all you want but NO” Lessi answered shaking her head frantically her eyes wide
“You know what that means right??” you smirked evilly at her
“I'm NOT declaring you as me football-wife on Social Media” the blonde huffed
“Then suck it up and eat them” you pointed at the offending vegetables on the plate in the middle of the table
“No” Less whined desperately “Keira please... help” she turned to her teammate begging
“Eat your veggies Less....” Keira rolled her eyes seeing that you three just causing chaos again
“But” the light blonde whined
“Less... I want to eat my lunch in peace” now Leah interrupted her glaring “.... if you won't let me eat in peace I'll shove them Brussels sprouts down your throat by myself”
“Wow.... okay” Lessi looks at her capitan shocked and taken aback “No need to get violent – not me fault you miss your girlfriend”
“Don't” Leah warned her teammate pointing at her threatening
“Let's go over there... she can simmer in her bad mood alone” you said grumbling pulling Lessi along “Bet Millie and Rach are very happy to see us”
“Okay Lee... what's up?” Georgia asked watching you plopp down next to Rachel and on top of Millie
“I do miss my girl... but I'm nervous G... we're playing Spain in three Days and I'm nervous” the blonde spilled her thoughts to her best friend
“It's just a friendly Lee... no need to stress about it okay...” your girlfriend said softly “... we use some of the new plays we trained and you'll Skipper the shit out of that game”
“Thanks G... really” Leah said sighing a little more relaxed “Now please go and get your girl under control” she pointed over to you where you were concentrating on snipping peas at Sarina and some staff members under the low cheering of Millie and Rachel
“Oh shit” Georgia said quickly as she followed Leahs gaze scrambling off towards you
“Okay everyone listen up!!” Sarina said loudly when all the Lionesses were seated “As you know we arranged a friendly against Spain in a couple of days – we'll go over the Line-up later today but I want to inform you beforehand that there will be some significant changes due to our new tactics. I plan on giving everyone some minutes – if not this game than the next one which is four days later. Also I want to announce y/n Bronze as new addition to our Team. She'll be part of our analytics staff and she already showed her value since she pointed out some good moves for us to get past Spains defence”
“And Ona” you threw in chewing on your Steak you got for lunch
“And Ona Batlle yes” Sarina rolled her eyes but everyone saw it was just for show “Don't interrupt me and don't speak with your mouth full... I know you got raised better than this”
“Yes ma'am” you said your voice muffled by the potato you decided to push into your mouth before answering smiling at your adoptive Mom widely
“Walsh.... get your kid under control” the Dutch said and everyone laughed at Keiras offended face
“Excuse me.... the last time I checked she listened to the name Bronze” Keira exclaimed picking up the banter with her head coach
“While that is true I can't really say “Lucy get your kid under control”...” Sarina answered pointing at Lucy who was about to shovel some pasta into her mouth – just like you did with your potato
“It wouldn't be much use” the dutch said flatly and everyone started to laugh as both Bronzes looked up sporting the same caught look with both of your forks mid air
“I get your point” Keira huffed her face deadpan “You two really can't help yourselves can't you”
“What?” both you and Lucy asked confused
“Nothing... you keep on shovelling” Keira said rolling her eyes once more
You and Lucy looked at each other before shrugging your shoulders and continuing eating
“As I said... we have some new tactics which might look strange on paper and will be confusing at first but I like how y/n gets a read on things and thinks outside of the box” the dutch said seriously “You all noticed how I included her more this Camp because I think she's now at a point very we can profit from her exceptional eye and solutions – yes the upcoming games are just friendlies but that won't stop us from playing our best”
“Sorry to interrupt again but.... the food gets cold” you said raising your hand while already talking
“If you wouldn't interrupt me all the time I would be done already” Sarina threw you a warning glance
“Sorry” you mumbled “But... can you maybe... talk faster Mama Rina”
“If you have questions my door is always open” the dutch said her patience running low “You can also ask the new member of staff but I doubt you get a satisfying answer out of her”
Everyone laughed again as you hummed agreeing pushing your vegetables on your girlfriends appetizer plate much to Keiras dismay
“What is THAT??” your girlfriend looked up from her plate pulling a face while you bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing
“Shouldn't you know babe? You ARE half-Jamaican after all” you smirked as the table bursted out laughing
“So funny” Georgia said flatly “How did you pull that off?”
“Just asked the Chef very nicely to make something from home since you miss the Reggae feeling so much” you smirked very happy with yourself
“I will get you back for that” your girlfriend growled “but back to me initial question... WHAT is THAT??”
“How should I know... that's your traditional food” you shrugged your shoulders grinning
“I regret the day you found that video” Georgia grumbled as she stabbed her fork into the brownish-yellowish dish
“You love me too much to actually be mad” you smirked watching how your girlfriend struggles to actually bring the fork to her mouth “And be grateful – they made me feed Toons dog food”
“Dog food??” Georgia asked shocked
“It was chicken paste” Toons rolled her eyes
“I'm 100% positive it was dog food” you countered “they just told you it was chicken so you wouldn't throw up and sue them.... now come on babe... taste it and tell me if it tastes like home” you grinned
“I really REALLY want to kick you right now” your girlfriend grumbles but finally got over herself quickly stuffing the food loaded fork into her mouth
“It's.... actually not bad... It's really good actually” G shrugged her shoulders “It's a curry... I like curries”
“See.... I did something nice for you there....” you grinned
“But what curry.. definitely not chicken” your girlfriend mumbled as she poked the meat on the plate
“Wait... Jesse...” you yelled over to the buffet where some chefs were standing handing out food
“Yes?” one of the shorter ones looked over to you
“What meat is that??” you shouted back lifting your girlfriends plate up
“Goat” came the answer immediately and you could see how Georgias eyes grow wide in shock and you swear you saw her heave for a second there
“Thanks” you said and he lifted his hand in reply
“Was... was he serious?” your girlfriend asked as the colour slowly left her face
“Naah... it's beef” you said having mercy on her
“You are so SO cruel” Georgia mumbled as she picked up another fork shovelling it into her mouth
“It's not beef is it?” Millie leaning over to you whispering in your ear
You just shook your head smirking and chuckle under your breath while Millie laughed.
“What's so funny?” your girlfriend asked suspicious
“Millie asked if I think Carmona finally declares her love for Lucy by asking her out on a date” you lied quickly while Millie looked at you confused but nodded when you kicked her ankle under the table
“Yep,... I mean... it's obvious” the blonde kept nodding
“Oh Ew... guys I'm eating” your girlfriend said her voice laced with disgust
“Yeah well... I would have to live with her...” you shuddered “... Lucy!!!” you turned around in your seat facing your sister
“What??!” your sister looked up alarmed
“You are NOT allowed to reciprocate Carmonas feelings!!!!” you looked at her seriously
“What?!” Lucy looked confused
“I want to keep Ona” you whined
“What the hell are you talking about??” your sister was so lost
You just shook your head in disbelieve turning back around. Your sister looked at you like you completely lost your plot turning to Keira
“What is she talking about?” Lucy asked
“Don't ask me... you speak Bronze better than me...” the blonde shrugged continuing to eat her salad
“What does she want now with Carmona?” your sister looked at Keira lost
“How should I know? I've been here as long as you...” Keira now said a little annoyed “... just chalk it up to her being her and eat”
“Hey what are you talking about?” Lucy said as she pulled your chair around so that you were facing her
Unlucky to her you were just digging into your pasta (your second dish for the day) and with the sudden movement the pasta didn't only spill over Millie but also Lucys face – and the back of Keiras neck who stopped her fork mid-air and by the way her shoulders moved you know there was a storm coming your way. Lucy herself just stood there blankly spaghetti with pesto sauce and antipasti running down her face.
“Ehrm... Lucy you have a little...” you said lowly gesturing towards her face desperately trying to hold in your laughter as a piece of eggplant sliding down your sisters cheek
The whole room was quiet so you could hear a piece of dust dropping like it'd would be a jackhammer. Everyone looked at you, Lucy, Millie and Keira shock on their faces. No one dared to move while you could see Rachel, Ella, Less and Niamh trying to hold in their laughter. Rach shook with silent laughter pulling out her phone recording a small clip for her Instagram of the sliding eggplant – fans would see it later with the caption “perfect SLIDE tackle by Egg Plant Tough Bronze”. Needless to say the fans had a field day with this clip and half the soccer world commented on it. Best comment came from María León herself tagging Ingrid complaining why Lucy was allowed to play with food when she herself wasn't even allowed to build a rice volcano. Ingrid chose to ignore that comment instead asking Lucy if this was her secret to be such an outstanding player.
“Bitsy” you heard Keira growl dangerously low
“It wasn't my fault... Lucy pulled me over” you quickly said as you jumped out of your chair walking backwards away from the blonde who still hadn't moved one inch
“Stay” the blonde said strictly still not moving
You thought quickly about bolting but as usual Keira knew you better
“You can't outrun me... don't even try” she said as she finally put down her fork
“I mean... I can try” you said desperately
“No... you can't... the only way you'd make it out of here is if you'd jump through a window – because I will be faster at the door than you” Keira said as she SLOWLY turned around
“It wasn't me” you said taking another step back hitting something with the back of your knees and suddenly found you in the lap of the one and only Lauren James.
You looked at her she looked at you both of you getting big wide eyes before you jumped up again knocking against Beth chair who lost balance and fell backwards. Only person stopping her hitting the ground was Lotte who reacted quickly grabbing Beth shirt who ripped a bit but held enough so Beth wouldn't end up with a concussion.
“Bitsy.... just stay still for god sakes” Keira said in a warning tone “You'll knock out the whole squad before we even get the chance to play the world cup”
“Sorry” you apologized quickly getting rooted in place “but at least I don't knock you all up”
That did it for Rach, Tooney and Less who bursted out laughing while your girlfriend squeaked quietly blushing again.
“Why do I have pasta on the back of my neck?” Keira asked looking at you expectantly
“Lucy pulled me around as I had me fork full of spaghetti” you explained quickly your Manchester accent coming through – like ever so often when you get nervous.
“Millie?” the blonde gave her teammate a side eye
“Truth... wasn't her fault this time” Brickwall Bright confirmed and now Keira turned towards Lucy narrowing her eyes
“Lucia... with me” the blonde said lowly and your sister shook her head scared “NOW”
“You tell Ona I loved her right?” Lucy looked at you pleadingly knowing she most like won't survive Keiras wrath
“I'll make sure she's taken care of” you nodded “I'll visit her as often as I can”
“Good...” your sister started before there was an angry “LUCY!!” from outside the room
All of you heard the door fell shut and muffled argument from outside it. You actually winced a few times feeling sorry for Lucy – she didn't mean for this to happen either. But Keira had straight rules for eating times. No whining. No argument over food. Only plating as much as you can eat. And NO throwing food – never ever. So her ending up with some courgette in the back of her neck was bad. Bad for Lucy. And in hindsight bad for you because now you have to find something new to eat now. You looked around the room – who at this point got back to light chatter and eating. You spotted Leahs plate who was still fairly full and decided after checking the ingredients that it was worth stealing. So you slandered over patting her right shoulder. The second she turned around looking you quickly snatched the plate with your left hand hiding it behind your back
“Yes y/n?” the blonde capitan looked at you expectantly
“You think Keira will kill Lucy?” you asked as a disguise pouting slightly
“No... you know them... Keira will yell at her – Lucy will look very apologetic and say she's sorry a hundred times and it will be okay again” Leah said softly still not catching up that you stole her plate
“You sure” you asked again just for good measure
“Yes Poppy... I'm sure” Leah smiled soothingly
“Okay... thanks Lee” you said smiling a little turning around walking away quickly
“Poppy!!” you heard Leah call out angry when she realized what you've done
“Love you Capitana” you yell back sitting down at your table between Millie and Toons starting to shovel down Leahs food
“I would've shared with you too, you know babe” your girlfriend said as she watched you not even chewing the food just swallowing it down.
“I know babe... but I didn't want to steal from you” you said with your mouth full which earned you a hard slap on the back from Keira
“Where do you come from?” you asked shocked half the food falling back on the plate as she slapped your head
“From ripping your sister a new one... don't talk with your mouth full or you'll be the next in line” the blonde looked at you angry
“Sorry mom” you apologized after you swallowed the remaining food
“And don't shovel it down your throat like you're starving” Keira scolded you
“But I am...” you started to get shut down by a glare from the blonde which made you shrink in your chair
“Damn... Walsh has it out for the Bronzes” Tooney mumbled under her breath but not quiet enough for Keira not to hear
“I can expand my list, Toone” Keira barked out
“Kei...” you looked at her scared
You saw Keira take a deep breath before looking at you
“Sorry Bitsy” the blonde features soften “Your sister just pushed a button”
“Can we talk please” you said lowly your eyes never leaving hers
“Come” was the only thing Keira said already walking away
Outside the door she waited for you as you closed the door quietly behind you
“What's wrong Kei? I mean you're kinda mean when you're on your period but that was... two weeks ago” you said keeping your distance from her
“I honestly don't know Bitsy... and getting smacked by antipasti in the back of my neck certainly didn't help” the blonde huffing
“You miss your girl?” you ask fishing for pointers on Keiras bad mood
“Too, yes... but all around it tires me out... I don't know why” Keira sighed deeply “and Spain in three days?? Even more tiring”
“You need a break huh?” you asked understanding “is a lot lately”
“Yeah... but I won't get a break until end of season” the blonde started to massage her temples
“I could kick your ankle” you offered
“No thanks Bitsy” Keira laughed “But thank you for the kind offer”
“No problem” you smiled “But seriously – I can take you out of the starting XI... give you a little break at least”
“In all seriousness... that would be very appreciated” the blonde sighed out happily “Wait... how do you know who is starting XI?”
“Who do you think put the XI together? Mama Rina left it all up to me – it's just a friendly and I have few ideas I want to try out” you shrugged your shoulder
“You are exceptional Bitsy....” Keira smiled at you and pushed some lose hair out of your face “... never lose your light”
“Jesus Kei... I'm not dying” you rolled your eyes
“No... but you're young and the position you just took on brings a lot of pressure with it...” the blonde said and you heard her serious tone “... don't lose your light”
“I'll do my best” you offered a smile “I don't even know how long I'm gonna stay... at the moment it's still fun... so yeah – let's see”
“Good” Keira nodded happily “You want to go back?”
“Not really no... Lunch was a mess... and left me hungry” you pouted
“I tell Sarina.... you want me to send G after you?” the blonde winked
“You would do that? What about Luce?” you looked at her with big pleading eyes
“Just play along...” Keira smirked and before you could respond what she meant the blonde started yelling at you “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO COMMENT ON A TOPIC THAT IS ABSOLUTLEY NOT YOUR BUISNESS”
“I JUST ASKED” you yelled back not knowing what Keiras plan is
“GET OUT!” the blonde yelled but smiled at you “That should be enough to get your sister of your case – she knows better than to question me... now go and send G your location...”
You pressed a sweet kiss to Keiras cheek before running off. Keira watched you rounding the first corner before she took a deep breath put on her game face and shoved the door to the dining room open aggressively. She was met with the sight of scared face from her teammates and smirked internally.
“What?” Keira barked and all newbies quickly ducked their heads not wanting to upset the veteran any further
“Jesus Kei” Georgia looked at her best friend confused “Leave the kiddos alone”
“Sorry... YOUR girlfriend just pissed me off” the blonde growled but winked at G subtly
“I go talk to her” your girlfriend huffed out already pushing herself out of her chair immediately catching on what Keira tried to tell her
“Wait... I'll come too” Lucy quickly said trying to stand up as Keira pushed her back down
“You sit” the blonde said lowly
“Yes ma'am” Lucy mumbled sitting down again
“Okay Ladies” Sarina said loudly getting everyones attention “Time to talk game tactic”
You were sitting between Georgia (who subtly intertwined your pinkies) and Tooney who yapped about some dog she saw at the park earlier.
“I worked closely with our new addition..” the dutch started before you interrupted her – again
“My parents gave me a name you know... and it's not “new addition”...” you huffed annoyed until you saw Sarina smirk
“Not?” the dutch smirked knowing from Keira of your little game so you could get away at Lunch – without informing the head coach
“I mean I got called a lot of names over the years... but “new addition” wasn't one of them” you smirked back engaging in the banter with your “boss”
“I spoke with y/n” Sarina rolled her eyes for good measure “... we – agreed...”
“Agreed? I told you what would help us win and you said “do it”....” you interrupted again knowing no one else would get away with it
“We AGREED to try a few new things when we play against Spain” the dutch ignored you expectantly “We will start with a.... wait why am I talking about this... Liefje why don't you come up here and take over?”
“What?!” you looked at her shocked shaking your head lightly
“Come on” Sarina waved you to the stage smiling “It's your tactic – you worked hard on it so you get to explain it”
You let out a big breath as Georgia squeezed your hand offering silent support before you pushed yourself up and walking up the stage standing next to your Mama
“Okay Ladies and Lucy” you said loudly waiting for your sisters signature “Hey!!!” before you continued smiling “I spent a LOT of time analysing games... plays... players... last Euros was good.. all of you played amazing BUT as Sarina said before – it was close... if you strip it down to just the play Spain WAS the better team... you got lucky with Alex goal in overtime.... REALLY lucky... Toons that leader was world class but Spain bounced back because ALL of you felt too secure for a second... I know this is just a friendly but we'll play it like it's the final again – we're back on home soil, we play Spain again but we'll... throw them off a little... so I still have some painkillers left from me wrist injury – we split them up and then I'll let you run lose... that will throw at least the Barca department off...” you grinned as Lucy groaned
“It was a mistake okay... I AM sorry” your sister said while Keira chuckled beside her
“You have to do more than say you're sorry Bronze...” you smirked “... I want that world cup”
“I'll do my best okay” Lucy smiled at your display of competitiveness
“Okay... so back to the game... we're playing at Old Trafford this time... who's idea that was? Mine – I just love that place and it hold a lot of history... So tomorrow we're moving up to Manchester whoever has problems with it... suck it up or leave” you simply said and Sarina snorted next to you “For tactics... we're going back to the roots of football... like... waaay back – we're gonna play a “Scottish furrow”... anyone any idea what that is... the dinosaur in the room maybe...??” you look straight at your sister smirking cheeky
“Oh get lost...” Lucy threw at you smiling back at you feeling happy about how much you obviously enjoy your new role
“Anyone... Scottish furrow??” you asked into the room looking from player to player
The younger ones shook their head embarrassed as the veterans wrecked their brain have heard of it before but couldn't place it. You looked at Sarina for help.
“It's a 2-3-5 formation... it's dubbed a little outdated but as y/n said – it's back to the roots” Sarina explained before nodding towards you telling you to take over again
“Spain is overall Goliath... they have a VERY strong defence, a quick working midfield and ruthless forwards... we're David in this scenario so we have to play more tactical – we'll have fast forwards a intelligent midfield AND a Brickwall of defence so our Keeper hopefully will have a relaxed game... Mary pack a book because if your Team does its job like I tell them to do it you won't have a single shot on target” you said seriously but joked as well – you started to really enjoy the situation of talking about tactics
“A 2-3-5?” Leah asked confused “How will that work with our playing style?”
“Easy... we let them run into the brickwall – not Millie but the whole defence – take the ball off them and use the momentum in our favour and just.... run” you answer looking at Leah serious “Spain will think they dictate the game... the pace... the tactic... the ball... but you guys will let them run into the wall every time... Spain is thankfully a opponent that gets frustrated easily... the second they start getting frustrated and sloppy is the second we switch back to a 3-3-4 and kill em... if my calculations are correct and the bring the line up I expect them to bring we should get out of this friendly at least 5 – 0”
“5 – nothing??” Lucy exclaimed shocked
“Yes... and we don't even have to bring the A+ team... we need A+ defence... midfield and forwards can be newbies... so whoever wants their first cap against Spain... come find me after the meeting... I set up a preliminary line up but I already have a change in midfield since Keira is out for the game” you said honestly your eyes not leaving your sisters
“Kei... you okay?” Leah immediately turned around to her best friend concerned
“Just tired Lee...” the blonde smiled back weakly “Talked to Sarina Jr. over there and she offered to take me out of the line up which I seriously appreciate”
You swell with pride when Keira referred to you as “Sarina Jr” knowing how much respect the team has for the dutch head coach.
“You need to remember Leah... she's one of the old ones now...” you smirked as Keira threw you a playful glare
“We don't comment on players ages” Sarina told you off flicking your ear lightly “We call it experience”
“Sorry... my bad... she's experienced Leah.... she want's to give the chance to the younger players to get.... experience too” you smirked
“I can make her run laps in your name K” Leah offered helpfully
“I can make her run laps in my own name too Lee” Keira laughed and you swallowed hard knowing just how well Keira could make you run laps
“My knee...” you said carefully
“Don't even try Bitsy... your sister is the one with the bad knee” the blonde smirked
“Hello.... three ACL's” you exclaimed outraged which caused everyone in the room to burst out laughing
“Oh don't even start... your knees where fine when you ran away from Alexia a few days ago” Keira rolled her eyes still smiling
“She didn't leave me a choice” you defended yourself
“She left you the choice of not running off” Lucy threw in
“Yeah like you would've stayed when Alexia Putellas threatens you” you snorted
“Even Mapí doesn't dare to run away from Capi” your sister said “So why did YOU think you could outrun her? You don't even know your way around Nuo”
“Well... I didn't really think... I acted on instinct” you said like it was obvious
“Well your instinct ended your ass in the gym with La Reina” Lucy smirked and turned to Leah “When Ale delivered her back all she did is sleep... for TWELVE hours”
“I need that workout... can you ask her? The possibility of shutting your sister up for twelve hours straight is just a dream come true” Leah laughed at your offended face
“Oh look... Leah doesn't want to play against Spain” you grinned looking at Sarina who just shook her head smiling
“You wouldn't dare to bench me Poppy...” the blonde capitan smirked back happy that the team got back to it's bantering self
“Oh but I would.. because according to my contract I'm allowed to make decisions about the team, the tactics AND the players – all in agreement with the head coach herself of course” you smirked and pulled out your contract “So yes... I can bench you... because I think I saw you having some discomfort in your knee sitting down... right?”
“You little shit” Leah laughed knowing you weren't serious
“Learned from the best” you smirked looking at your sister who smiled proudly “Back to business... 2-3-5... Chloe and Meado up top... I like the way you two work … Hillary... congratulations to your first Cap... you'll get flanked by Franny and J-Park... defenders... Millie and Leah MidDef – Luce on the right, Alex on the left... Lotte you're my false 6... “ you said looking at every single player waiting for their okay before moving on to the next one
“A false 6?” Keira asked confused
“Yeah... I want Lotte to be the connection between midfield and defence” you explained “throw the spaniards a little off... you'll run a lot Lotte is that okay?”
“Sure... I'm fit” the defender smiled
“Okay... if you get tired ask for a sub... J-Cart can come in for Alex and Alex moves up... that is if we're not back to the 3-3-4 at this point anyway – it's still just a friendly... no need to kill yourselves out there” you said and Sarina smiled proudly.
You did an exceptional job. You really took your job very seriously and still you made sure to explain your decision to make it understandable why you were starting players over others and you still had the lightness of a teenager
“Depending on if Spain takes out bait we make two subs at half … Stanway for Clinton – believe me Hillary... 45 Minutes is more than overwhelming for a first cap and Toons for Franny” you kept going with your game tactic feeling comfortable and honestly free talking about something which gave you the feeling of being part of the team
“Sounds good...” Sarina smiled approvingly “... what are your other subs?”
“Around 70th/75th minute... James for Chloe... Less for Meado... I would leave one slot open IF something happens...” you turned towards the head coach
“So you leave the defence like it is... who's in Goal?” the dutch tested your plan
“I actually just changed my mind... Mary... you have the day off... Hampton... if you're up to it?” you looked at the young Goalkeeper
“Yes... yes I'm up for it” the young woman smiles and nods her head frantically
“See... that's the enthusiasm I want” you grinned “None of you asshats were as happy as she is right now”
“Because she doesn't know you as well as we do” Lucy threw in
“Esme... you start against Spain... congratulations... Luce... I think a saw an old camping chair standing around at home... you have enough time to go home and get that chair since you won't put a foot on the pitch” you smiled sweetly and this time Keira bursted out laughing at your sisters face
“You can't...” Lucy exclaimed but you interrupted her
“Oh but I can..” you sing-songed waving your contract
“Sarina” your sister whined
“I gave her the lead for this... her call” the dutch shrugged smiling widely
“Oh come ooooon” Lucy whined again which caused the older players in the room to chuckle
“What... thinking about it I do you a favor... now you can drool over your girlfriend the whole 90 Minutes...” you smirk
“Sometimes I really wish we wouldn't have turned around when Dad forgot you in Tesco” your sister mumbled
You stepped through the tunnel onto the pitch at Old Trafford. You loved that Stadium – even if it's the home of United and you yourself grew up as a City-girl. This place held so many amazing Stories and Memories. You turned once around yourself looking at the still empty seats that in a few hours will contain nearly 75.000 fans – it was just a friendly but the tickets were gone in just under two hours. One of your dreams back then when you were still playing was to play a derby against United right here – Old Trafford. 74.310 seats and all of them will be manned/womend tonight. You remembered the last Derby you attended with Lucy. You had a small smile playing on your lips remembering the crowd, the cheers and chants, the game itself – it was like it happened yesterday.
“Hey” you heard softly behind you and it made you jump for a second
You whipped around and came face to face with your sister
“You okay?” Lucy asked softly
“Yeah... just got a little emotional here... remembered the last time we were here you know... before you left for Spain” you answered quietly
“Was a physical match... Tobin and Christen for United...” Lucy smiled and looked ahead towards the seats
“... Chloe got a stupid yellow... that wasn't a yellow... oh.. and G played left forward... wasn't it the first Derby for the Tower of Power too?” you chuckled
“Sammy Mewis? Yeah... I remember her coming out of the tunnel and nearly fell into it backwards because she didn't expect the fans to scream like they did... she tried to hide behind Rose for a hot minute there” your sister laughed lightly
“I love Rose but damn... she was shiny with the spotlights... told Gareth to put her in – she would have blinded Mearpsi with her reflective skin and bam... goal... but no” you rolled your eyes but smiled
“You always have these backhanded compliments... where do you get them from?” your sister laughed
“Lots and lots of training” you grinned “When are the spaniards arriving?”
“Already in Manchester... for a few hours now... you want to go and say hi to them?” Lucy smiled softly taking your hand
“You think Alexia would appreciate us crashing their Lunch?” you smirked
“Absolutely not... we're gonna wait in the Lobby until they're done and then quickly say hi” your sister laughed
“Yeah... why not? Where they're staying??” you shrugged your shoulders knowing Lucy tried to get you out of your sentimental state
“Hilton Garden Inn” Lucy said after checking her phone
“Ona?” you smirked
“Sí” your sister smiled back
“Wait... isn't that at the old cricket grounds?” you wrecked your brain
“Yes... it's nice apparently” Lucy shrugged not letting go of your hand
“Are we allowed to leave?” you suddenly asked looking around
“Sarina was the one calling me after seeing you out here... she said as long as were on time for the game we're good to go” your sister smiled softly
“Off to the spaniards then” you started running off pulling Lucy after your
“Remember Bubs... we don't cause troub... BUBS!!” Lucy yelled after you as you sprinted off towards the dining area
“I fucking knew it” your sister grumbled as she speed walked after you hearing you already flinging the heavy doors open
“Buenos Aires Motherfuckers!!!” you screamed as you pushed threw the big heavy double-door “I'm back!!”
There were different reactions to your entrance. Some of the spanish players screamed in horror, some nearly chocked on their food and some jumped up and took cover behind the tables
“A la mierda y/n!!!” Alexia exclaimed after she looked shocked over the edge of the table she cowered behind
“I said Buenos Aires... I made meself known” you smirked at the sight of the spanish national team in distress
“You storm inside her, interrupt our Lunch and scare us to DEATH for what exactly? And it's too late for Bon dia Cariño” Alexia now stood up glaring at you
“Lucy said we can go say hi so we did... and I didn't mean bon dias... I meant the other one... the Buenos Aires... your Olga said it” you shrugged your shoulders grinning
“Ay dios mio... my headache is suddenly back...” the blonde spaniard mumbled but in secret she was glad to see you “And it's Buenos tardes.... not Buenos Aires”
“Then that... Buenos tartlets motherfuckers” you said again grinning widely
“Nena!!!!” you suddenly hear from your left and found yourself laying on the ground a second later with someone on top of you
“María!!” you heard a voice from above you and the weight got pulled off you
“What just happened?” you asked confused as Ona helped you up
“Mapí wreckingballed you... she does that sometimes when she gets excited” your sisters girlfriend dusted you off a little bit before offering you a smile “You good?”
“Sí” you mumbled still a little bit confused
“Look at you speaking spanish” the short defender smiled warmly opening her arms inviting you in for a hug
“Putellas was adamant about it” you mumbled against Ona after you accepted her hug
“Okay Mapí...” you heard Alexia behind you “I told you what would happen if you misbehave again...”
“What she doing” you sack against Ona relaxing for a second
“Oh Mapí was a little over the top the whole camp... and since not even extra laps got her to calm down Alexia approaches the problem differently now” Ona answered smiling at how much you were leaning against her “What's up with you Bebita? You look exhausted”
“You guys are exhausting” you mumbled suddenly feeling extremly tired
“Us? We didn't do anything” the short blonde chuckled
“She means your games” you reconized your sisters voice behind you
“Disculpe?” Ona chuckled
“Again with the dislocation...” you mumbled as you get transferred into Lucys arms
“I'm NOT going to wear... Alexia... por favor” you heard Mapí beg “por favor la reina”
“Jenni... ayudame por favor” Alexia said holding Mapí police hold
“León... quédate quieto y acepta tu destino” you heard Jenni growl and immediately sink more into Lucy
“She's not angry with you... what's up with you anyway?” Lucy soothed you after she realize you shrink away from Jennis voice
“Tired” you mumbled
“She can sleep for a bit in my room” Ona offered
“Bubs... you wanna sleep with Ona?” your sister asked half quietly as suddenly four heads snapped in her directions and you were wide awake again
“Scuse me?” you chocked out
“NOT like that you...” your sister huffed out annoyed
“I mean I know you're not shy when it comes to our sex...” Ona started before you interrupted her
“LALALALALALALA!!!” you yelled loudly wrenching your fingers into your ears to blend out the rest of Onas sentence and screw your eyes shut walking away from your sister – and straight into Jenni Hermoso.
You stumbled back a little bit as you opened one eye seeing the tall dark haired spaniard smirking at you raising her eyebrow
“You were more smooth when you were high” Jenni smirked
“HUH??” you asked loudly your fingers still in your ear
Jenni rolled her eyes smiling grabbing your right hand pulling it away from your finger
“High you is smoother” she grinned
“Sober me has better taste” you shot back
“Sober you doesn't like me no?” Jenni teased you
“I can't answer that....” you swallowed hard
“So sober you DOES like me” the black haired said smirking
“Jenni stop teasing the Cariño” Alexia interrupted swatting her friends shoulder “She has a girlfriend”
“Interesting” Jenni smirked wriggling her eyebrows at you
“Indeed...” you coughed out before you laid eyes on Mapí and bursted out laughing “WHAT are you wearing??”
There she was – Mapí León in all her spanish glory... strapped in a Dino-Harness.
“This is all your fault” Mapí huffed
“Moi??” you asked confused
“Yes... YOU have one and that's why I have one now” María looked at you with betrayal in her eyes
“Then it's Lucys fault” you pointed at your sister “she's the one getting Bronzo in the first place!”
“Because you kept running off!!” Lucy defended herself “You still do”
“Why are you here?” Alexia asked your sister “You know it's not really common to visit the opponent before the game”
“She got a little emotional and I thought bringing her here would help – and it did... you guys don't even realize how much you help her” your sister said her voice low so you won't catch on while you were busy wrestling with Mapí around on the floor getting cheered on by Pina
“Ale... Puedes por favor controlarlos?” Aitana asked after you repeatedly kicked her chair trying to find leverage over Mapí both of you laughing
“Jenni... por favor” the blonde spaniard looked at her teammate who just sighed and walked towards you and Maps
“How was she the last two weeks?” Ona asked as she watched Jenni trying to split you two apart
“Rollercoaster.... she had a lot of fun with Less and Toons... and then she fell again and Keira had to drag her out of bed – it helped a lot that Sarina got her to agree to work for the Lionesses” your sister said keeping her voice low so just Ona and Alexia could hear her “And I may have played a part in her moody days” she confessed embarrassed
“What did you do?” Ona asked raising her eyebrow at Lucy
“I may – or may not – have threatened her girlfriend...” your sister scratched the back of her neck
“You WHAT??” Ona whisper yelled “I swear to god Lucia”
“We sorted it out... I just – I need to make sure she's protected okay” Lucy said “She's my baby sister”
“I get it... you know... Alba... the first partner she brought home – I made them run for the hills... threatened the shit out of them.. and had Jenni just stare at them from the other side of the room – for the whole night” Alexia chuckled
“But Albas first partner wasn't your exes best friend and technically your good mate too” Lucy mumbled
“No.. but I get why you're so... y/b Bronze... Ay dios – put that down!!!” Alexia started before she saw you holding a potato like you were a pitcher sizing up the distance between yourself and Olga Carmona.
Jenni was quick to react after she sat Mapí next to Irene who just fixed the younger spaniard with one glare
“No little one... we don't throw potatoes” the black haired spaniard said as she towered over you
“It's a boiled one?” you asked innocently
“No...” Jenni said smiling sweetly “... no throwing potatoes... boiled or not”
“You suck” you huffed annoyed
“And you wish” the dark haired one shot back smirking and you swallowed hard again – the second time in just under an hour
“Bubs... come on... we have to go” you heard Lucy from the other side of the room
You looked up from where you were hunched over the table with Mapí building some Lego figures
“Just five more minutes” you whined “We're nearly done”
“No Bubs.. now... we have to get ready – they have to get ready... come on... I told you we'll leave after an hour” your sister said firmly
“But” you started to whine again what caused some of they players to chuckle
“No... “ Lucy interrupted you “Get your Bag and come on”
“I...” you started confused “... don't have a bag with me?”
“Oh... right... sorry... I just had a flashback from all the times I had to pick you up from kindergarten” your sister said a little embarrassed
“I bet you were a cute pequeño” Alexia laughed pinching your cheeks
“She was a menace from Day 1... her birth was chaos... from the moment she entered this world it was chaos... no wait... she was chaos before that...” Lucy said as she watched you trying to fight Alexias hands off
“Am not” you grunted as the blonde spaniard continued to pinch your cheeks
“You were, are and always will be... which doesn't matter now because we need to leave” your sister answered
“Then tell her to stoooop” you whined
“Capi.... we need to leave” your sister grinned
“See you after the game Cariño” Alexia smirked and pressed a kiss to your forehead
“Can Mapí come too?” you looked at Alexia and Lucy hopefully
“Not now... you will see her later at the game and AFTER the game you can run around with her a little bit okay” Lucy tried to coax you away from Maps who clutched onto your hand
“Why not now?” you whined again
“Because Mapí needs to get ready for her game too... and we need to get ready at our hotel” your sister knew she had to stay calm otherwise you would just throw a big ass tantrum
“This sucks” you huffed but stood up
“Thank you Bubs... I promise you can play Lego later with Mapí” Lucy smiled as she put her arm over your shoulder leading you away from the spanish team
74.310. 74.310 fans – sold out Old Trafford. You were standing next to Sarina in the locker room and heard every single one of them. You knew Sarina gave you the freedom to do whatever you thought was right at this game and you knew the Team waited for the pre-game talk but all you could do was relishing that moment. Your eyes were closed, a small smile on your lips and you listened to the chants from above you. You took a deep breath before straightening up again.
“okay... I know this is just a friendly but I want all of you to treat it like it's the world cup final. Out there are 74.310 fans who are here for YOU... you had a good camp and we have a good play and we have the best team. Let all of them fans see that – let them enjoy that evening and make it an unforgettable experience for them. Let's paella the shit out of them tapas shovelling shrimp eater” you said loudly smirking at the end of your little speech
You send your team outside high-fiving every single one (except for Mearps because her high-fives hurt) before you took your place next to Sarina at the end of the Starting XI. You saw Alexia who was wearing the captains armband and winked at her when she turned around. She rolled her eyes for good measure before turning back and you saw the shift in her posture – she was in game mode. Who you couldn't spot in the line up was Mapí. You were confused for a second since you were 79% sure she would start as well. Sarina nudged your shoulder a lightly and brought your focus back to your own team.
“Sorry” you mumbled and hung your head
“It's okay Liefje... I know it can get overwhelming but I need your focus here right now – if it gets too bad let Keira or Lucy know okay... or Georgia” the blonde said softly as the line up started to move
“Nothing to be sorry about, Liefje... you are doing amazing – you are 16 and still a Ki...” Sarina said softly as you suddenly found yourself getting pushed forward onto the ground
“Hola mi nena” you heard from above you and all you could do was grunt
“Hi Maps... why??” you whined
“I just misseded you so much” the blonde spaniard said from above you
“Excuse me, León... could you please get off my analyst?” Sarina said a little confused
“Wait... I'll get it sorted...” you grunted from underneath Mapí “Lucy!! HELP!!”
Seconds later Lucy came sprinting back from the pitch tackling the spaniard off you both of them rolling in one big ball of limbs over the ground
“I told you not to do that León...” your sister growled after she pinned Mapí to the ground “Who's on the bench today?”
“Leila... Aitana... Athenea... Alba...” Mapí listed off
“So... the A-Team” you laughed which caused Sarina to smirk while Mapí didn't get it and just looked at you confused
“Because all of them start with an A” you tried to explain your “joke”
“That was a shit joke you muppet” Lucy rolled her eyes and pushed herself off Mapí
“At least I make jokes...” you snapped back as Sarina helped you back to your feet
“I get Aita to watch you León..” your sister pointed at the small spaniard who looked like a kicked puppy
“Por favor no... they'll put that stupid thing around me again” the blonde whined
“You have a T-Rex!!!! I have a bronto!!! Yours is so much cooler” you exclaimed
“Which reminds me... come here Bubs...” Lucy grinned
“You can't be serious!!!” you took a small step back
“Come here Bubs” your sister cooed “Bronzo time”
“Old Trafford is SOLD OUT!! And you want to strap me down??!!” you tried to hide behind Sarina “74.310 tickets SOLD!!!”
“Look... I don't need you running on the field trying to have a go at the ref – I also don't want to hold your hand the whole time because you probably would just pull you with me” Lucy said still smirking “So yes – I am gonna tie you to the bench and know you won't cause trouble... Keira is with me on that one”
“You all suck” you grumbled but let Lucy pull the straps expectantly over your arms locking them on the back
“I honestly didn't think you would give up that easily” your sister smiled once she attached the leash
“I want that Mapí has to wear hers too” you stayed rooted in your place crossing your arms over your chest
“I'll sort it out okay... but now you hop off to Kei...” Lucy ruffled through your hair handing the leash off to Sarina
“Come on Liefje” the dutch said lovingly tugging slightly on the offending string
On your way out Irene Paredes passed you with long powerful strides and you saw a harness clutched in her hand which made you grin. A minute later you heard Mapí exclaiming loudly in spanish and you even heard a few spanish swear words. It made you chuckle and got you into a better mood knowing you wasn't the only one the fans will make fun off.
“Hey Bitsy” Keira greeted you softly as you plumped down next to her
“I hate Lucy... I'm gonna put her in as a forward... or in goal” you mumbled
Keira bursted out laughing pulling you into her side pressing a kiss to your forehead – unknowns to you a lot of camera lenses were pointed towards you and that exactly that picture will go viral.
“Lucy in goal? I would pay to see that” Keira smiled knowing exactly why you were so grumpy.
“How much would you pay?” you suddenly perked up
“I would make sure you'll have some quality time with a certain blonde?” Keira smirked amused
“Deal” you quickly said pulling Keiras hand out of her pocket grabbing it quickly shaking it
“It's okay Bitsy... I would have done it anyway – you reacted so grown up with everything thrown at you this camp you deserve a little treat...” the blonde said softly
“I did, didn't I?” you smiled looking onto the pitch where Alexia and Leah stepped up to shake hands
“If I look over your pranks on LJ, Georgia, Leah, Beth and I'm pretty sure Alex wasn't a ginger this morning” Keira smirked
“They weren't pranks... that's love language...” you said embarrassed
“You call it love hiding LJ's clothes while she's in the shower so she has to wait in St. Georges Park until someone got some spare from the Hotel? Put itching power in her bed? Stealing all her left socks? Ordering pizza for the whole staff on her credit card? Not even to start with the laxative in her breakfast on the third day” the blonde raised her eyebrow at you
“Don't know what you're talking about, Kei...” you look at her innocently
“Course you don't Bitsy...” the blonde laughed “... but you should pay attention now – games is about to start”
You looked back over to the pitch seeing Spain won the coin toss and decided to play from left to right – which mean England had the kick off. You're eyes found the way to the spanish bench seeing Mapí being tied up to a post next to Irene as Lucy made her way over grinning widely as she took a seat behind you. Sarina sat on the outside of the row not seeing the point in interrupting right now since nothing had happened so far.
“You good Bubs?” Lucy asked from behind you
“Never been better” you grinned and Keira saw the glint in your eye
The game kicked off and you saw how Spain got thrown off a little bit already by your chosen formation and you smirked to yourself. Your plan worked perfectly – even if Hermoso and Paralluelo made it through the midfield they always ran into your defence brickwall. At one point Hannah even turned around to wave at fans and stood next to the goal for pictures. She was teasing the spanish players. Olga Carmona was lost since she couldn't mark Lucy – who sat behind you on the bench and Esme was not known enough to Carmona to place her playing style. Poor Olga wasn't having the best day.
It was in the 14th minute where Fran Kirby delivered a beautiful pass to Chloe who saw Beth running with her into an open space and directed the ball a forward where Beth just had to chip it into the back of the net. You jumped up just like everyone else screaming just as loud as the Lioness fans. Beth came running over to the bench signalling you to come up to the line and the second you did she pulled you into a hug – both of you staying on your side of the pitch
“This is yours pumpkin... this is your goal” Meado whispered into you hair and pressed a loving kiss to your forehead before she sprinted off again going back into her position.
You looked up to the orange sky as the sun set trying to control the tears who threatened to spill out of your eyes. Sarina stepped up next you laying her arm around your shoulders just offering silent support knowing how much this meant to you. Suddenly you felt Keiras hand on your other shoulder, Lucys hands on your waist and Georgias hand sneaking into yours. Weeks later it would be that exact same picture that would be seen as Lucys lock screen at a Barca video.
Spain kicked off again and you smirked seeing how they started to lose their temper already. Alexia tried to keep her players level headed but especially the younger ones like Salma tried the “head through the wall”-technique all the time. Again and again she'll run into the wall even if there where three players running with her one of them in a perfect position to at least get a shot at goal. But you expected something like that but to your surprise it happened faster than you thought. In minute 35 Millie rocket the ball way into the spanish half for Clinton to pick it up getting it to J-Park who put it into the box for Fran who just volleyed past Cata. Sarina pulled you immediately into a big hug and even Fran pointed over to you which got noticed by Alexia who realized that it was your doing that her team was struggling.
It made her so angry and proud at the same time. She saw how her team was slowly falling apart and she couldn't do NOTHING about it because of you. You placed your players perfectly and the formation you chose was just impossible to break – even if they got past your midfield your defence stood like... yes like a brickwall. Alexia saw her team getting frustrated. She needed to do something but she couldn't think of a solution. When Fran Kirby scored the second goal for england and pointed over to you it just made her blood boil. She loved you. She would give her life for you. But right now she wanted to strangle you – publicly. VERY publicly. Jenni came over to her best friend
“What are we gonna do, Capi?” the dark haired asked
“I... I don't know... this is y/n going” the blonde seethed back “I don't know what to do – I don't know how she's thinking”
“Trust your stomach Capi... but it doesn't help the team if you freak out” Jenni said softly squeezing Alexias biceps
“Let us get through the first half... and try scoring... isn't that what you get paid for?” Alexia smiled at her best friend
“Feed me good balls and I'll score” the dark haired one smirked before turning around jogging back into her position
“Oh so it's my fault” Alexia yelled after Jenni smiling
Just three minutes Leah passed the ball to Lotto who took off like a lightning surprising the spanish players once again. She passed Alexia like Speedy Gonzales which caused the spanish capitan to needed a second to realize what happened before sprinting after Lotte yelling spanish commands to her defence. Lotte saw Chloe wide open at the far post, Cata off her line so Lotte did what everyone would do – she pulled her leg back and bolted through the ball. Cata did exactly what Lotte wanted – she came even further off her line. Lotte kicked the a perfect curve ball to Chloe who headed into the back of the net. 3 – 0. The Lionesses were destroying the spanish National team. When you saw Lottes curve ball you already were out your seat – with Keira holding on to your leash tightly – screaming loudly. Chloe came running over to you as well and you did your special city-handshake. You saw Alexia hanging her head low and you felt sorry for her. You could see that the blonde felt guilty for letting Lotte past so easily.
In the 43rd minute even Ona lost her plot committing a foul against Jess Parker which should have been a yellow card – at least in your opinion. You jumped out of your seat starting to yell at the ref from the side-line
“Oy ref.... that's a yellow!!!!” you yelled angrily
“Calm down Bitsy” Keira said softly trying to pull you back on your leash but you were so in your zone you didn't even notice her
“Oy... OY ref you blind moron!!!” you yelled again and this time you got the refs attention as she looked over to you as you grabbed Sarinas glasses of her nose “You need some glasses so you can actually SEE a foul when it's happening??”
Lucy tried to do damage control by putting her hand over your mouth pulling you backwards while you heard Mapí scream from the spanish bench.
“You tell her nena!!! That's my nena!!!” the small spaniard cheered you on not even caring that the foul was committed by her team resulting in a free kick for the Lionesses.
But it was already to late as the ref already was walking over to you. You sized her up standing a little taller on your toes as she already pulled a yellow card from her chest pocket holding it up over your head.
“This is an official warning” she said to you as you continued to glare at her not able to talk back as Lucy still had her hand over your mouth
“Sorry ref... it's her first game and she's a little emotional” Sarina tried to calm the situation signalling your sister to get you back to the bench who immediately understood and janked you backwards so you lost your balance and she had an easier job getting you away.
Meado and Leah stepped up to the free kick both looking over at you for instruction on who should take the free kick. You held up five fingers and signed for top left. You made sure that all the players knew your signs beforehand so Leah nodded barely noticeable winking at you. She quickly talked to Beth who quickly looked over to you smirking. As the whistle blew Meado started to run up to the ball but running over it while Leah came a step behind her kicking the ball in the top left corner making it 4 – 0 for England. This time you just smirked nodding satisfied. Leah came over to you smirking as well as she stood opposite to you and both of you taking a bow at the same time. Every goal the Lionesses scored today they'll dedicate to you – it was Sarinas wish and the team immediately agreed. This was your doing. This was YOUR game.
The first half ended with a defeated spanish team and a happy english team. The players tickling into the locker room in the best mood chatting happily until you climbed up on a bench whistleing loudly
“Okay guys that was more than perfect – Lotte... great game so far really... you're a perfect false 6... Hillary... you were outstanding for your first game... really great job... great passes, quick thinking, great overview.... really REALLY good job out there... the rest of you was amazing too... honestly you all play phenomenal... we still do the halftime changes and we go a little easy on Spain and go back to 3-3-4” you said before you stepped down again letting Leah take over leaving the locker room.
Outside Sarina waited for you smiling
“You always have to cause trouble, don't you Liefje?” the dutch smiled “A yellow – I can't believe it”
“Not my fault that ref is blind as a mole” you grumbled but a smile tugged on your lips “I'm gonna get that yellow after the game and gift it to Ona... it's hers anyway”
Sarina laughed loudly pulling you back towards the pitch as you looked at her
“Mama Rina... I have another sub if you're okay with it” you smiled
“You can do whatever you want today Liefje” Sarina smiled back
“Perfect” you smiled happily as you felt a hand smacking your ass making you jump and turn to your right seeing your girlfriend jogging past laughing “I'll get you for that Stanway!” you yelled after her
“All empty promises” Georgia laughed as she jogged out of the tunnel
The second half began as the first one ended with England dominating the game being fired up from the comfortable lead and the nervousness from Spain. Spain subbed some players too at halftime one of them being Mapí León who stopped at your height when she entered the pitch
“Nena... I love you... but now I have to do my job okay... I can't let you score again” the spaniard said a little sadly
“Oh don't worry... I know colorbook spaniard... we'll still score at least one more” you grinned at her which made her grin back at you before jogging on
At the 72nd minute you made two more subs just like you cleared with Sarina. LJ came on for Chloe who started to get tired anyway and Less replaced Meado who just came back from an injury. Georgia did a good job in midfield together with Toons and soon Cata got basically bombarded with shots on her goal while the english defence got a breather. Against all odds it was actually Georgia who scored the 5 – 0 after Less pelted the ball against the crossbar and the ball landed at Gs feet who just took her chance and just... scored. Your girlfriend couldn't believe it herself as Less and Toons jumped on top of her screaming loudly. As soon as Georgia got rid of the two stooges she ran over to the side-line stopping right in front of you
“I can't do what I want to do right now but I promise I do it when we win the world cup for you” your girlfriend said softly and you smiled at her
“I'll hold you to it Stanway” you smiled back as she mocked a salute before running off
It was the 84th minute when you made your final sub. You did send Lucy to warm up who just smirked
“You just can't get around letting me sitting on the bench can't you” your sister teased and you smirked back
“Something like that” you answered
You went up to the fourth official to tell her that you had one last sub. She took out her notebook writing down the numbers who get subbed and looked at you confused
“Are you sure? No. 2 comes on for No.13?” the fourth official looked at you
“Yes I'm sure” you smirked widely
“13 is your Goalkeeper” the woman specified
“Yes I know...” you shrugged your shoulders smiling before getting back to your bench “Luce... get ready – coming on the next chance”
“Sure... any orders?” your sister said as she tied her laces again
“Just... keep a clean sheet okay” you smirked
“What?” Lucy asked confused but you ushered her out to the side-line.
The board went up and it showed the green no.2 – which caused a lot of cheering by the fans – and a the red no. 13. THAT on the other hand caused a LOT of confusion. Hannah looked over at you for clearance and you nodded grinning while Keira was howling in laughter
“Are you serious?” Sarina looked at you shocked
“Yes... I am dead serious... Lucy wanted to play... she gets to play” you grinned as you watched Hannah jogging over already pulling her gloves of her hands pushing them against Lucys chest who turned around to you shocked
“What the hell..” your sister started
“Get going Bronze... and keep that clean sheet... Hannah did amazing out there and there's only a few minutes left... trust the process and trust your defence” you said as you gave your sister a push so she would step on the pitch.
The game ended with a glorious win for England. The team celebrated on the pitch and with the fans. But not you. You stood at the side-line and kept your eyes fixed on your girlfriend and the raven haired spaniard who stood very VERY close to her – too close for your liking.
“What's wrong Bitsy?” Keira appeared next to you wrapped in her warm fluffy team jacket her warm breath coming out puffy in the cold english air.
“Nothing” you mumbled distracted growling lowly when the spaniard laid her hand on the lower arm of your girlfriend
Keira followed your eyes until she found the scene of your obvious bad mood. When the blonde realized what was happening she bursted out laughing
“Don't laugh... who is that?” you grumbled annoyed still rooted in your place
“That's Nuria... Nuria Rábano... left back... plays for Wolfsburg in Germany and obviously Spain” Keira chuckled watching as the dark haired woman laughed at something G said her head thrown back
“She's touching what's mine” you growled seeing how the spaniard grabbed your girlfriends arm tighter
“They played each other just before camp... and she's spanish” the blonde answered still very amused about the whole situation
“People could get a wrong picture of it” your mood didn't really improve with all the information Keira provided
“You know what they say... Are they dating or are they spanish?” Keira found great entertainment in poking at your ego a little bit
“I don't like it” you grumbled
“Green isn't really your colour Bitsy” Keira smirked at the your displayed jealousy as you started to walk into your girlfriends direction rather aggressive
“Green is the perfect colour for me... makes my eyes pop” you yelled back growling already halfway there.
Keira just laughed at your antics turning walking around over to Beth and Leah starting her fan round
“This is amazing... putting five past Coll just feels amazing” Ella screamed so you could hear her over the noise of the fans
“Told you it'll work... just trust me” you yelled back laughing “I don't know what her obsession is with Luce but damn... thank you Carmona”
“She looks pissed” Less laughed next to you as you got sandwiched between her and Ella
“I mean... not my fault” you grinned as you three went across the pitch shaking hands with the spanish players.
You stopped shortly at Aitana for both of you to awkwardly shake hands and then quickly walking away again
“What was that??” Lessi laughed in your face
“We... yeah” you shrugged lost
“I mean that's full on Tooney behaviour” the blonde laughed
“Oi” Ella exclaimed loudly “I wasn't THAT bad”
“True... you were worse” you bursted out laughing “If it wasn't for Luce you'd never have gotten that picture... isn't it your lock screen?”
“Shut up the both of ya” Tooney grumbled
“Hola Cariño” you suddenly hear behind you
You turned around smirking turning Less and Tooney (who totally didn't squeal as she reconized Alexia) with you.
“Hola pretty spaniard” you grinned and Alexia laughed out loud
“Good game” the blonde spaniard smirked at you “Good tactics”
“I'll let the staff know” you smirked enjoying that little banter between the two of you
“Whoever came up with that deserves a raise – no one noticed a weak link in our play before.. or threw us off of our game like this ever before” Alexia grinned knowing fully well it was you
“I'll tell the head coach... yeah... we have a new member of staff... she's good...” you wriggled your eyebrows
“I noticed... but is she good enough to come up with more solutions since she just spilled her little... plan” spains capitana smirked right back at you
“She'll have some surprise ready for you the next time we face each other” you smirked “Alexia... Lessi Russo... Ella Toone” you now introduced your best friends “Me best mates”
“Alessia” Lessi corrected you pronouncing the “A” extra loud
You rolled your eyes for good measure and shoved her away
“You do know I know them right? Last year? Final” Alexia laughed
“No... you know the football players Alessia Russo and Ella Toone” you basically screamed the Alessia “But this two are my best friends...” you smiled
“Less.. Toons.. Alexia “Don't touch that” Putellas... two times Ballon d'Or...” you started before getting big eyes as you frantically looked for Mapí
“... Winner, Cariño... I won that trophy twice...” Alexia laughed as you stopped mid-sentence
“Yeah... sure... winner... twice” you said as realized that she had no idea that there was in fact just ONE whole Ballon d'Or... and one broken one
“You sure are something Cariño” the blonde spaniard smiled as she hugged you
“Ew... go away... you're all sweaty” you faked disgust trying to push her off “AND you wear the wrong jersey...”
“I'm very sorry” Alexia said “apologetic” and hugged you even tighter “You want my jersey?”
“Nope” you snorted “But Lessi over here is a BIG fan”
“You want to swap?” the spaniard smiled at your friend who – in true Less fashion nodded frantically and tried to get her jersey over her head just to get stuck in it
You knew the second you saw her tugging on it the second time that there definitely will be a clip of it – and it definitely will go viral.
With the help of Toons and you you managed to get her out of her jersey which she embarrassed offered to a smirking Alexia
“Come on Stooches” you heard Lucy yell from the place she stood with Ona (and Mario for cover) “Time for huddle”
“But I didn't see Mapí” you whined back
“And it will stay that way” Alexia quickly said firmly
“We're on english soil... you can't tell me what to do in me home” you whined
“Lucia?!” Alexia didn't even bother to give in to your whine “you're hermanita wants to spend time with María”
“Absolutely not” Keira yelled from your other side where she was talking to Irene and Patri
“Tweedledumb” you yelled happily skipping over to the trio leaving Lessi and Toons awkwardly standing next to Alexia
“I was tweedledee” Patri said confused
“No... I'm pretty sure you were tweedledumb” you mused
“Bitsy... don't you have someone else to annoy” Keira pressed a soft kiss to your temple
“I would... but pretty spaniard won't let me go to colorbook spaniard” you whined
“Wrong.. I... won't leave you go to Mapí...” Keira laughed
“But whyyyyy” you whined again
“Really?” the blonde raised her eyebrow at you
“Ugh...” you huffed before you suddenly perked up
“What have you seen now?” Keira immediately felt the change in your body language
“Not what... who” you smirked “Hola sexy spaniard”
“Hola little One... you behaving?” Jenni grinned at you as she came over
“Never... good game Hermosa”
All the players around you stopped talking looking at you confused as Jenni began smirking.
“What?” you asked looking around
“Did... did you just call me beautiful?” the black haired woman smirked as Alexia began to laugh trying to hide it behind her hand
“WHAT??? NO!!!” you screeched horrified as you saw G looking at you suspicious
“You did Cariño... Hermosa means beautiful in spanish” Alexia laughed
“Dear bloody fucking...” you started getting interrupted by Lucy
“Push ups!!”
“CHRIST... Ona said the female version of things is A at the end... the male mostly O... as far as I can tell she has breast and no dick!!!” you enthral loudly
“y/n Bronze... watch your mouth... we're in public” Keira said sternly giving you a death glare
“Sorry” you said ashamed “But... she laughed” you pointed at Alexia
“Because you got it wrong” Keira rolled her eyes “and it wasn't a bad mistake... just a mistake.. get over it... and now come on... Sarina is waiting”
You huffed but let Keira pull you along. You watched as the spanish player went over to their head coach Jorge Vilda (or as you called him Vileda – because he's a mop and nothing more) and their president Rubiales. They were laughing with each other when you saw out of the corner of your eye how Rubiales grabbed Jennis head with both hands and how she moved backwards a little bit. It happened so quickly that if someone (Lucy and Keira... and Sarina) asked you afterwards you couldn't even answer why you did what you did.
You saw how his head moved closer to hers and how she slightly leaned backwards. You pushed yourself away from Keira who looked after you confused before yelling out to Lucy (who was in conversation with Meado). You quickly covered the distance between you and the spanish team shoving bodies to the side until you were standing behind Jenni when you saw that he actually DID press his lips to hers. You yanked her around and away from Rubiales as you already had your balled fist lifted behind your head. You knew you had one go and only one. So you made good use of it putting all your anger into that punch. You felt your fist connect with his face (more specifically his nose) and a gush of red liquid landed on your white Lioness jersey.
It just took seconds but these seconds went past like they were hours. You saw how first Rubiales looked at you confuse. Then shocked and when your fist connected with his face how his whole face flew to the side and he tumbled backwards his hands flying to his nose. There was a deadly silence in the stadium – 74.310 fans were silent.
The next second you felt hands on your shoulders and around your torso as several people started to get in between you and Rubiales. Lucy, Keira, Ona, Alexia, Mary, Leah, Mario – all of them and some more getting in between the two of you. Lucy had her arms around your torso pulling you backwards while the spanish girls trying to get you away before Luis recovered.
Lucy (with the help of Keira and Mary) got your growling fuming form into the tunnel and then the locker-room. Sarina wasn't far behind
“All of you leave” the dutch ordered strictly
Quickly the three players got out of the room knowing not to start an argument with Sarina right now
“Are you actually completely mad?” the blonde dutch said upset “Do you even realize what you've done out there??”
“I...” you looked at her and she saw that you actually DIDN'T know what you did “no... I don't know... I saw how he grabbed her head and then... I don't know”
“You hit him” Sarina said slowly trying to see if you played her
“Did I get him good? He's an arrogant pig” you asked
Sarina just pointed at your jersey waiting for your reaction
“Wow... shit... is this his blood?” you looked up after discovering the splash of red on the white fabric
“Yes... y/n... I need the truth... do you REALLY not remember?” Sarina looked you straight in the eye and you held the eye contact
“I swear Mama Rina... I remember seeing him grabbing her head and then you yelling at me – I swear” you said honestly
“Okay...” the blonde sighed out “... we need to do damage control... you NEED to apologize to the spanish federation”
“WHAT? No... he IS a pig...” you exclaimed
“Liefje... you don't have to mean it... just sell it... because if you don't the FIFA has a reason to ban you from the World cup...” Sarina pressed
“And he just can do whatever he wants and gets away with it?” you said upset
“The only one who can press charges right now is Hermoso... not the spanish team or you.. this part of the problem doesn't concern you... but you need to openly apologise... and you need to sell it” the dutch said firmly trying to get through to you
“Okay...” you huffed “I don't like it... but I'll do it for you”
“Thank you Liefje... and please... after you apologized... don't throw an “asshole” in there” Sarina smiled
“Damn it” you cursed
“Yeah... I do know you” the blonde laughed
The two of you exit the locker-room and to no surprise your sister and Keira were still waiting outside
“ARE YOU ACTUALLY..” Lucy started before she gets interrupted by Sarina
“Stop it... we already talked about it and she will apologise” the dutch said sternly
Your sister huffed but after a second smiled
“Nice right hook... made me proud” Lucy grinned ruffling your hair
“Thanks... Jorge taught me” you grinned back as you passed the spanish locker-room
“Wait” you said quickly before you knocked at the door
You waited a few seconds before Misa Rodríguez opened the door looking at you carefully
“Sí?” she asked raising an eyebrow
“Okay look... I neither have the time nor the patience to even try to get you to understand me three words of spaniard so I'm gonna do it me way” you huffed out before yelling into the room “HERMOSO!!!”
Seconds later Jenni pushed Misa slightly to the side standing now in the doorway
“Yes?” the dark haired woman asked and you could see that she was still somewhat upset.
“Here” you said as you pulled the Jersey with Rubiales blood on it over your head “It's yours... you deserve it... whenever you question if people will have your back – it was me honour to have your back at this moment... end him Hermoso...” you said intensely before turning around leaving
“Wait” Jenni quickly grabbed your wrist “Thank you” she smiled slightly
“Let him bleed Jenni... he doesn't deserve your mercy” you said firmly “What he did was wrong... and he should carry the consequences”
“Here” this time Jenni pulled her jersey over her head “It's sweaty but I think it's just fair that you get the jersey from the person who got you in trouble”
“Meeh... I always get meself into trouble... but I'll wear it when I apologise to Rubiales... so that he knows that I'll stick to your side” you winked
“You're going to apologise??” Jenni asked shocked
“Have to... Sarina said I don't have to mean it... I just have to sell it... otherwise FIFA can ban me from being part of the team” you grinned
“Thank you y/n Bronze... I owe you” Jenni smiled again
“Yeah about that... I would love to win next year... could you maybe... hold back a little” you grinned and Jenni bursted out laughing
“You can keep dreaming because that won't happen” the dark haired woman laughed.
#lucy bronze x reader#keira walsh x reader#lucy bronze#woso image#barca femeni#mapi leon x reader#ona batlle x reader#jenni hermoso x reader#lionesses x reader#alexia putellas x reader
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a selection of housefics i love!
i will make a part 2 when i reach character limit :D currently there is just 11 fics here but i WILL be updating!
Playtime's Over or The One Where Cuddy Forces House to See a Child Psychologist - mskullgirl
author summary: Following the events of "Skin Deep" (season 2, episode 13) House spirals out of control and stops eating and sleeping. Cuddy eventually offers him a deal; five sessions with Dr. Addams, the hospital's resident child psychologist, in exchange for three months off of clinic duty. What could go wrong? word count: 48k my notes: SO GOOD!! such a fun analysis of house and it has potentially my favourite accidental child acquisition of all time
Everything He Wants - the_northwind
author summary: House discovers that Wilson is a better coping mechanism than Vicodin. There's no way this could go wrong. A rewrite of the season six finale and beyond where instead of Cuddy, Wilson goes to House's apartment after the crane collapse. word count: 11k my notes: has one of my favourite hilson fic argument scenes. they're dysfunctional and messy and SO in character i couldn't recommend enough
Hypothesis - IreneSpring
author summary: At the beginning of the month, James Wilson decides to break out of his depressive spiral by having an affair with the first woman who is not needy. By the end of the month, he is facing an existential crisis decades in the making. word count: 15k my notes: haha wilson you are gay (jokes aside this fic is actually so fun and silly and made me LAUGH at the hoops our wilson jumps through to eventually realise he didn't get anywhere anyway)
Under My Skin - rhythmofsnow
author summary: Thirteen has a meltdown. House is there to ground her through it. (Post 5x05 "Lucky Thirteen") word count: 1.4k my notes: caring house my beloved... autistic solidarity my even more beloved <3
Composed - ferretwhomst
author summary: compose verb /kəmˈpəʊz/ 1. calm or settle (oneself or one's features or thoughts). 2. write or create (a work of art, especially music or poetry). or: a sick, restless Wilson finds himself in need of House’s company late at night. House indulges him. word count: 2.2k my notes: SO BEAUTIFUL.... wilson is so gay and so melodramatic and house matches his freak so well and WRITES HIM A PIANO PIECE....... they're so soft with each other idk its just beautiful. please read this
Soothe me now, soothe me, old friend (eng) - culturenana
author summary: Wilson would love to – Wilson would like to do so many things, make the most of countless wasted opportunities, erase every mistake, since his time has shortened without any warning, cruelly consuming itself under every cough. / House holds him close as if he is about to slip from his arms, and neither of them has the courage to discern what this thing between them is. There is no excuse or rational diagnosis that could cover it up. word count: 7.2k my notes: oh my god this fic made me want to bawl its so beautifully written and i have been shying away from post-finale fics purely to save myself the heartbreak but im SO glad i didn't do that with this one. they mean everything to me ;-;
'Samson's Mistress Cut His Hair, Thus Removing His Strength' - Sparklesinthewater
author summary: Set in season 3. Stacy doesn't come back. Tritter doesn't interfere. But the drugs and the infarction keep getting House into trouble anyway. Wilson is trying his best (but his best may not be what's best for House). / Or, House gets himself a girlfriend. Life goes downhill from there. word count: a beautiful 129k my notes: hello? hello!!!! can anyone hear me!! fic of all time!!!! a novel in its own right, and i did in fact stay up till 3.30am finishing it. impossible to put down and did make me want to cry in places. absolutely stunning. would recommend to everyone
a thousand teeth (and yours among them) - itooaminthisepisode (anarchy_opossum)
author summary: Sometimes, when House gets too overwhelmed by his emotions, he gets a little bitey. This is five times House bites Wilson, and one time Wilson finally bites him back. word count: 10k my notes: GORGEOUS STUFF!! amazing characterisation with lovely internal voices <3 they're so them and it makes me so happy
i let you win, i love to lose - sesamie
author summary: a short thing inspired by the thought, "what if amber and wilson's sex tape was ***for house***?" it seems like exactly the kind of toxic manipulative thing amber would pull and bring wilson along for. so here it is! set after the finale of season 4, and wilson and house haven't spoken about everything yet. things are bad between them and that's where the angst in this comes from! word count: 4.6k my notes: this fic did irreparable things to my psyche i mean ACTUALLY i do find myself thinking about it as im going about my day. genuinely was blown away by the sheer power of the prose i'll be honest 😭
we peeled the freckles from our shoulders - flowersinapril
author summary: Greg is twenty-three and James is nineteen when they first meet as counsellors at a sleepaway camp in the Adirondacks. word count: 2.1k my notes: GOD THIS WAS SO BEAUTIFUL... AAAHHHHHH i dont even have any words. please read this. crops watered joy delivered will to live restored etc. oh my god.
I'd Make a Deal With God (I'd Get Him to Swap Our Places) - TheFandomLesbian
author summary: When Wilson receives his terminal diagnosis, House flees to the hospital chapel. He doesn't know how to pray, but he strikes a deal: his soul for Wilson's life. When Wilson goes into remission, he has no choice but to uphold his end of the bargain. / In which House learns nothing about God, but everything about worship, in the arms of his husband. word count: 11.3k my notes: HOLY FUCK.. obsessed and i mean Obsessed with love as religious Especially when it comes to gregory 'religion is meaningless' house like this was so... good. it was so good. house is so desperate and so in love and its the most delicious thing ever
#amethyst.txt#gregory house#james wilson#hilson#hilson fic#house md#house md fic#please please read these i have so many to add but these are just the first i grabbed from my history 😭#this post has been in my drafts for so long im sorry i took ages making it#<- because now i have MORE FICS TO ADD. but i thought i'd get this out there first <3
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Touchy-Feely
Title: Touchy Feely
Word Count: 3011
Warning: Smut, Swearing, Unprotected sex, a bit of an age gap, talk of attempted incestuous rape (one sentence). Bisexual Charles and logan. AFAB reader, dirty talk (so sorry for horrible it is), Oral sex, P in V sex, Anal (Male receiving), Praise kink, multiple female orgasms,
Fandom: X-Men movies / Marvel
Pairing: Charles Xavier X Fem!Reader X Logan
Rating: Mature
Summary: This is based on a request I got from my old fandom blog. I’ve rewritten it, added smut, and edited it. The reader (F) has the ability to make people aroused on contact (much like Alisha from Misfits) and to manipulate others emotions, memories, and more. This is post Days of Future Past, but Charles still has hair and ability to use his lower body because it made sense for the story.
A/N: I had a difficult time rewriting this as I had an ex named Chaz, which is short for Charles/Charlie and he graped me. I’ve always loved Charles Xavier and I’m trying not to let the grapist get to me, but sometimes I am unsuccessful. I hate myself for letting things go so far as to “allow” him to do this to me. But I kinda flinch every time I hear his name or variations of it. Also, this is my first time writing a threesome. Please don’t judge it that harshly.
You discovered your powers five years ago when you turned seventeen and went on a date to prom and your boyfriend’s best friend asked for a dance. This led to him trying to drag you to the bathroom to fuck you. That was when you found out that you could make anyone feel aroused just by touching them. Your boyfriend of the time broke up with you because there was no way he’d be seen dating a mutant freak. You knew for sure you were a mutant when your father tried to comfort you that night and wiped the tears from your eyes and tried to undress you. Luckily your mother was home to drag him off.
You were angry, and wished that he knew better. Better yet, you wished that he would try to burn his hand off. A moment later your father turned on the stove and stuck his hand over the burner, catching his hand on fire. That was when you found out you also had the ability to influence people’s actions and thoughts.
After that, your parents sent you away to Charles Xavier’s school for mutants, or, the nicer way to put it, gifted individuals. Charles took you in out of the goodness of his heart, as he would with any other mutant. You never told him of the embarrassing powers of eroticism, only of your ability to manipulate other’s emotions, actions, and memories. Your first week at his school after Bobby Drake pushed past you and accidentally touched your hand, you had to forcibly push him off you. He didn’t know any better so you altered his memory of the situation. But you were still so visibly upset that the professor, who was ten years older than you, tried to comfort you, you stumbled back to avoid his touch. But were unsuccessful, able to tell how aroused he was by the look in his eyes.
You then confided in him about your true powers and afterward made sure that the other students knew not to touch you, claiming you had a power similar to Rogue’s. Charles always took special interest in you and allowed you to stay at the mansion over the holidays and summers when all the other students went home. You grew to like and desire him, but were too scared to say anything because he was your mentor, but suspected he to had feelings for you. Eventually, you had graduated and became a full-fledged member of the X-Men.
While there, another man also took interest in you, Logan. He was a good-looking man with large muscles and claws made of adamantium. You could feel a lapse in his memories and tried to work with him to get them back. All attempts made were unsuccessful.
Today, you had pretty good control over your powers and it was a few days until your twenty-first birthday. Everyone was on vacation for the start of the holidays leaving you, Charles, and Logan alone in the mansion. You woke happy to get some peace and quiet for once instead of having to deal with students and teaching. You spent the whole day reading for your leisure in the library, but not long before dinner time, you went back to your room to change as Charles requested that you join him for dinner. You put on an alarmingly short dress for your taste that hugged all the right curves.
When you arrived in the dining room Charles sat at the table with your favorite meal in front of the two set seats. You wondered why logan wasn’t joining the two of you.
“Logan is out for the night,” Charles said, looking up through his scraggly brown hair. He paused a moment as you tried to hide a frown, “Good evening, Y/N”
“Hi, Charles,” you smiled at him and sat next to him. You made small talk as you ate dinner.
“Oh, Y/N, I have something for you on the kitchen counter. Would you be a doll and go get it.”
“Really?” your eyes glowed with excitement as you stood and walked to the kitchen. On the island counter sat a small cake iced with the words Happy Birthday Y/N and next to it was a small black velvet box with a white ribbon tied neatly around it. Below your breath, you gasped, “What?”
“Open it,” Charles whispered in your mind.
You smiled and shook your head, “Charles, get out of my head.”
You walked back out into the dining room with the box in your hand.
He had a big stupid grin on his face that you just wanted to kiss away, “Just open it.”
You carefully untied the bow and pulled the top back a bit roughly because the hinges on it stuck. You gasped when you saw what was on the inside of the box. With a huge smile, you took the small necklace into your fingers and examined it. It was in the shape of an infinity sign but with hearts on each end. Beautiful red crystals lined the pendant.
“Oh my god, Charles, it is so beautiful!” you looked up at him, “Thank you so much!” you walked over to him, “would you put it on me?”
He smiled, “of course.”
You handed him the necklace and pulled your hair out of the way. He put the necklace over your head and as he clasped it in the back, his fingers ran across the top of your back. He jerked his hands away and cleared his throat, “I’m so sorry, y/n”
You forgot how much you longed for human contact until now. You turned around and shaking your head, you looked him in the eye, “No, it...it felt good.” You could tell it felt good to him too, his face was beet red and he was taking deep breaths, trying to cover up how aroused he was from your powers. “I forgot how nice the human touch could be.”
You could see that he felt embarrassed for touching you, he had the same face as he did in his office that day he first touched you.
“You know, I am an adult. I’m not that young girl whose hand you touched in your office years ago. I’m different. I have more control.”
He smiled, “I know. You have, uh,” he cleared his throat, “definitely changed. In more ways than one.”
Your desire for him grew with every passing second. You could tell his was too.
“Do it again.”
“What?” Charles asked.
“Do it again. Touch me. I want you to touch me. It feels nice.”
“Y/N, I... I don’t want to take advantage of you like that...I-”
“Charles!” You interrupted. He stopped rambling and looked at you. “I like you a lot. I’m old enough to make my own choices. I know you like me too.”
“But, Y/N…”
“Charles, shut up,” you leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.
He put his hand on the back of your head and kissed you back harder. You straddled him in his chair.
Charles broke the kiss, “Logan’s going to be here any minute.”
“I don’t care,” you kissed him hungrily.
“He’s going to walk in on us,” Charles said between kisses.
“Good, let him. Maybe he’ll join us.”
Charles laughed into your lips and pulled your body closer to his, “God, you are so beautiful.”
“So are you,” you rubbed against him, humping his lap. He stood up, pushed his plate across the table, and set you on the dining room table and stood between your legs. You could feel him hard against you as he kissed you back harder, pushing his body against your own and let his hands wander.
“You have no clue how long I’ve waited for this. How much I’ve dreamed of this” Charles said as you trailed kisses down his neck. He let out a soft grunt.
“I do know. Who do you think put those dreams there to begin with” you slid his tweed jacket off him and tossed it onto the floor.
He let out a breathy laugh, “You sly little minx” and smiled into your kiss.
He traveled his hands up the skirt of your dress as you loosened his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt. You could feel the heat between you and Charles. His tongue danced with yours. His hand slid on the inside of your upper thigh. You let out a soft moan of ecstasy. He grabbed at the hem of your dress and slid it over your head and threw it behind him. In your bra and panties, you slid his shirt off his lean and slightly muscular body as he marveled at the sight of you.
Charles made out with you some more before you moved your hands from his chest to his belt. You fiddled with the belt blindly as you were too enthralled in Charles to look down. As he slid his hand over the small of you back to the hem of your panties, you slid the belt off him, tossed it aside, and went back to his zipper and button.
Charles’ hand was at the clasp of your bra when you heard a deep and growling throat being cleared from the doorway.
“Come on, we eat on that table!” you pulled away from Charles’ lips, a small trail of saliva still hooking your lips together, and leaned your head on his shoulder. You saw Logan leaning on the door frame, trying to overt his eyes. But you saw what was truly in his eyes. Lust.
Charles looked up and saw Logan as well. You felt his hands travel down to button his pants back up, but you stopped him with one hand and announced, “We will take it to the bedroom. Under one condition”
“What’s that?” Logan asked, mostly to humor you.
“Join us,” You hopped off the table and stood in front of him. His throat bobbed as he tried to show restraint. You reach out to touch him, forgetting about your powers for a moment but caught yourself before you make contact. You drop your hand, “Please”
“He wants to, I can hear his thoughts. He wants it bad. Nearly as bad as you want him.” Charles interrupted, trying to make you feel better about almost touching Logan without consent.
“Stay outta my head, Charles,” Logan did not break eye contact with you.
“Is it true?” You whisper.
Logan growled again, but this time it was a different type of growl. It was a growl filled with want and desire. He reached out his hand and grabbed yours, he took your open hand and placed it on his hardening bulge, “Princess, I’ve wanted you from the first moment I laid eyes on you.”
Your lustful smile grew and you kissed him with a hard, deep, passionate kiss, “Then join us in the bedroom”
He swept you off your feet and turned to Charles, “Comin’ handsome?”
Charles’ eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. And he followed Logan who led them to Charles’ bedroom. Once the door was shut behind the three of you, Logan lightly tossed you onto the bed and gave you one last kiss before taking his shirt off his body in one swoop.
Logan turned to Charles, “What’re ya waiting for? An invitation? The lady wants us naked. I don’t need to be a mind reader to tell you that.”
Charles stood there for a second too long for Logan’s liking so he stalked over to a stammering Charles, kissed him, and started to undo his zipper to his pants. Logan pushed down Charles’ pants and Charles stepped out of them, leaving him in his underwear. Charles closed his eyes and kissed Logan back as Logan backed them both up to where you sat on Charles’ bed. They pulled apart and looked at you. Heat rushed to your face and to your core.
“See something you like?” Charles spoke up while maintaining eye contact with you.
“I see two things,” You sat up in the bed and drew the both of them close to you. First you kissed Charles, then you kissed Logan. Your hands moved down to Logan’s jeans and unbuttoned and unzipped them. Charles took his pants and yanked them down revealing a large growing bulge in Logan’s underwear.
“Charles, I think Logan sees something he likes as well.” You smirked up at the men.
“I see two things,” Logan said. And pulled you so you were sitting on the edge of the bed. He knelt down in front of you and hooked a finger around your panties. While maintaining eye contact with you, he said, “I can smell how wet you are,”
Charles leaned down to kiss you while Logan slid off your panties and tossed them aside. Logan removed your bra with one hand. You took Charles’ boxers and pulled them down and then took his cock into your hand. You started to jerk him off. With your other hand you reached down to Logan’s head which found its way between your legs. His hands were on your thighs and he began licking your clit in a circular motion.
“Oh fuck, Logan,” you swore, lowering your head to Charles’ cock. You took Carles into your mouth and ran your tongue over the head. This elicited a groan from Charles. You moaned against his cock in approval.
Logan continued to suck at your clit as Charles took one of his hands and placed it behind your head to stoke your hair. You saw Logan reach down, remove his boxers, and pump his cock twice before returning one hand to your thigh and the other to your slit. He slowly worked one finger into your dripping cunt. You mewled with Charles’ cock still in your mouth. You pulled at Logan’s hair as he added another finger. You felt a building tightness in your core.
You took Charles out of your mouth and moaned for both men to hear, “I’m close. I’m so fucking close.”
“Come for him darling,” Charles moaned as you continued to stroke his cock, “Come for him like the good girl I know you are”
With that you let out a loud moan that reverberated throughout the room. Logan added one last finger to your pussy and you came undone, clenching his head between your thighs.
“Oh, fuck, Logan!” You shouted. Logan removed his head from your thighs and looked up at Charles.
“Come down here and taste her on my lips,” he commanded. Charles followed the orders given to him and pulled his cock from your hands to kneel next to Logan. He took Logan’s member into his hands and kissed him on the lips. Logan’s hand rested on your knee while the other held the back of Charles’ head. Still recovering from your first orgasm, you watched for a moment as Charles and Logan made out.
Charles pulled away from Logan and turned to you, “You want a taste?” he asked.
You slowly nodded your head and leaned forward to meet his lips. You tasted your sweet juices on his lips and groaned, “I need you inside me, now.”
Charles looked to Logan.
“Give the princess what she wants, bub.” Logan broke their connection and stood up. Charles followed suit and stared while Logan commanded you go on your knees.
“All yours, Charles,” Logan whispered, “Get on the bed.”
Charles followed the instructions and knelt on the bed behind you. He guided his cock into your still wet cunt and drove all the way into you, causing you gasp. Charles bent over and kissed your back.
Logan moved from his place in front of you to behind Charles, “God, you two are so beautiful.”
While Charles moved in an out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, Logan worked on getting Charles’ ass ready for him. Both men were well endowed and Logan especially had girth to his cock. When Logan’s first finger made its way into Charles’ ass, Charles jumped a bit, not expecting it. But gasped in pleasure when he added a second finger.
“Y/N, You’re so fucking good. You are taking me so well, love.” Charles whimpered.
You moaned as he nipped the back of your neck. He picked up the pace and began slamming into you all the way down to his balls. You felt the bed sink down behind the two of you and logan was undoubtedly lining himself up at Charles’ entrance. When you didn’t think that Charles could go any deeper, you let out a ragged breath when Logan pushed into Charles which made Charles push further into you.
The three of you moved in unison. You could hear Logan and Charles moan and groan and kiss. You felt yourself approaching climax. The knot in your stomach grew and grew.
“Fuck, Charles, I’m gonna cum,” You sputtered.
“Come for us, princess” Logan ground out.
You felt your walls clenching onto Charles’ cock and you moaned out, “Oh fuck, you feel so good!”
With the next few thrusts into you, you felt the knot burst and you came undone. With a grunt, Charles’ thrusts were becoming erratic and uneven.
“I’m close,” he panted and was next to come. He stayed, pushing his cum further into your pussy and moaning with pleasure. The bed creaked with Logan’s thrusting.
“I’m almost there,” Logan cried out. And with a few more thrusts he came into Charles’ ass with a howl.
Logan pulled out of Charles who then pulled out of you. The two men then situated themselves on the bed so that you were between them. You could feel sleep calling your name.
***
You woke up in the morning lodged between a hairy Logan and a snoring Charles. Neither of your companions were wearing shirts while their lower half remained covered by the sheet. You were wearing nothing but the sheet. You dared not wake them, so you stayed put, staring up at the ceiling with the sun shining in on your face.
#fanfic#smut#x reader#xmen#xmen smut#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#charles xavier x reader#charles xavier smut#logan howlet smut#wolverine x reader#charles x logan x reader#charles xavier x logan x reader#marvel smut#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine smut#professor x
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vox, valentino and velvette redesigns!! 📺🦋🦇
for me and my hypothetical rewrite, the vees would be the main villains of season 1, with heaven and the angels being only mentioned. at the beginning of the season the most antagonistic of these 3 is vox, but about halfway through the season it's revealed that her seemingly nicer fellow overlords are actually far more evil than her, and have been pulling strings to try and get the hotel shut down. s1 culminates in valentino's death at angel's hands- something which is supposed to be self sacrifice but angel ends up surviving.
individual rewrites and portraits under the cut ⬇️

VOX 📺⚡
- in life vox was an assistant to a popular tv host in the 50s. her opinions on how the show should be run and maintained were often ignored, leading to faulty electrical wiring killing her on live tv.
- this led her to become increasingly paranoid and a bit of a control freak, including after she became a powerful overlord
- she is the most outwardly villainous of the 3, immediately starting a smear campaign on the hotel at valentino's request
-her screen can display different images, text, etc
- she's still got that weird psychosexual thing going on with valentino, but it doesnt really amount to anything since. he dies
- in her rivalry with alastor she is the more successful of the two, hosting hit shows such as "laughing at disabled imp children" and "gray's anatomy" (NOT grey's anatomy, it's entirely different and definitely not plagiarism)
- owns every tv channel except for katie saint's (katie killjoy). their refusal to sell their channel to her brings her great frustration
- live studio audience noises will often be tacked on to her speaking, e.g laughing or gasping

VELVETTE 🦇⭐
- velvette was originally a californian influencer who died mid 2010s. (she's actually british, but she would never tell anyone that). she's the youngest overlord and her quick rise to power has left the other overlords feeling resentful towards her.
- no one knows her cause of death, she won't tell anyone
- she's a vampire, specifically an energy vampire who drains people's positive emotions. she can do this by either physically biting people (most of her employees wear turtlenecks because of this) or through making them feel miserable via social media. she's a leading cause of EDs, low self esteem other social-media based afflictions.
- she comes off as very shallow, vapid but charismatic. this is a complete lie. her true personality is cunning, resourceful and apathetic. she's the smartest of the vees, helping orchestrate most of the other 2's schemes. when they don't listen to her their plans usually fail
- she puts on this false personality to trick people into underestimating her. vox and valentino are the only demons who know her true personality.
- she is quite good friends with angel dust, often having them model her creations. she know's about angel and valentino's.... situation but simply doesnt care about stopping it.
- aside from attempting to get the hotel shut down, she manages to capture and imprison an exterminator, which she reveals to no-one. she tortures this angel for information and he eventually gives her a key to heaven's gates (which becomes relevant later) in return for his freedom. she still kills him - AND NOW she has access to an angelic weapon

VALENTINO🦋💗
- valentino is by FAR the most powerful and the most evil of the 3. you'd never know this from looking at him however, as he presents himself as calm and kind-hearted
- he reads books, he grows plants, he listens to classical music and he is the owner of the most ethical prostitution house in all of pride
- he died in the early 70s at age 53 and was italian-mexican in ethnicity
-his teeth are permanently coated in blue venom, which knocks people out
- the only reason people believe that he doesn't abuse his workers is their contracts. he primarily sources people who are in desperate situations, like angel who was running from their family. from there he gives them the protection from their specific problem, but essentially chains them to his establisments and makes them physically unable to say anything bad or do anything against valentino
- angel was "saved" from this fate as valentino saw them and took a liking to them. val's very much a chaser, his preffered type (as he would say if you ask him) is 'men who think they're women'. angel falls into this category in val's eyes
- angel physically can go where they want, but are still required to film or go places as valentino wishes. angel's contract also dictates what they can wear, how they can style their hair ect
- most crucially, the contract dictates that 1, angel cannot say anything negative about valentino; if they do they will be sent into a coughing fit
- and 2, any harm done to valentino by angel will be mirrored on angel. this is the most important clause in the contract story wise, as it prevents angel from killing valentino, even after they get access to victoria's (vaggie's) angelic spear.
- valentino really believes that angel and him are in love, made for eachother etc etc, and when he injures angel it's just his way of showing love
- when angel moves into the happy hotel, valentino makes a public display showing how much he approves of this, making sure to get on the staff's good side
- valentino does die, but angel doesn't. its a mystery ooooh
- he does not actually approve of this, and tightens angel's leash and has them enact worse and worse scenarios, worse punishments etc. until the end of the season where angel's life is just. utterly miserable. by that point angel has grown fond of the hotel and is a slightly better person, and so with victoria's spear tries to kill valentino (and by extension themselves)
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In Monk Magazine, Van Sant commented that "the campfire scene was the last thing we shot in America before we went to Europe.
About three nights before we shot the scene, he showed me a lot of stuff he had written, and it was like sixteen pages of handwritten notes with arrows and things leading to other pages and circles around words. It was a big mess. He said he was rewriting the scene and wanted to know if he could do this.
I was scared. It looked like he was freaking out. It was out of control... Sometimes actors just want you to say "No!", I didn't think he was doing that [but] he was the type of guy that wanted you to say "No." So I asked Keanu if it was all right, if River was like, stepping on his turf, because when one actor starts to write another actors' lines, it can get into this bad scene. Keanu really loved River, and he just said, "Yeah, man. Yeah."
This is the best part in the film", insists Gus, "and was chosen by River to be his big scene. He chose it because his [other] big scene, the one with his brother, had shot early, and he didn't get what he wanted out of it. So, he asked me to save the campfire scene.
He was a prolific songwriter, and he rewrote the scene like a song. Although, besides putting everything he had into the scene, he didn't really change it much. As a matter of fact, one of the ways it was changed was for him to flat-out say that he is in love with Scott."
— In Search Of River Phoenix: The Truth Behind The Myth (2004) by Barry C. Lawrence
#my own private idaho#river phoenix#keanu reeves#gus van sant#never getting over the 'keanu really loved river' quote 🥺#he really did. he trusted him with his lines and so we got the best love confession ever <3#mine
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Could I request Grace, Nicole, and Belle with a s/o who can manipulate electronics?
Pairings -> Grace Howard, Nicole Demara, Belle x Reader
Warnings -> None
Note -> Reader can manipulate electronics
Genre -> Fluff
GRACE HOWARD
She is mostly fascinated by your power of manipulating the power of electronics
She is willing to know more about your power
You have the ability to literally control, hack, rewrite, power down, control even erase yourself from any cameras that have caught you
You can do many things that causes Grace to become more interested in you even more
Grace loves it when you use your power for good
You can even use your power for little missions
Even so Grace loves to test out your power sometimes to see how much you can do
We all know grace loves to work with machinery and technology
Sometimes you cause her machinery to turn off by simply hacking into his system if the machine causes to freak out
But on little missions like trying to get information
You can easily get the data and hack into the system even if you are not there
You can hack into the cameras to let Grace or anyone else pass by the cameras without getting caught
You can even rewrite information to misinformation
Grace is so glad she has a very amazing and genius of a soulmate
NICOLE DEMARA
Nicole is very intrigued by your suddenly power over electronics/technology
Its no wonder why you haven't been caught yet while going mission yourself
You can do anything to wipe out anything that Nicole is willing to get rid of
Even sometimes when she gets caught with something you are always willing to wipe that out as well so she doesn't get caught herself
Sometimes you'll have to tell her to be careful on mission if she doesn't want to get caught
You can also literally hack into her phone if you wanted to
But you don't want to upset her so you stop doing it but its quite funny to see her reaction when she notices its just you who is doing it
She is also surprised that you can help Billy as well since he is kind of technology like
So whenever something is happening to him or has a damaged virus
You are always there willing to help a friend in need
Nicole asks you that if you can hack into the bank system but you always tell her no and that's against the law
You are using your thing for good not to steal
But you are always willing to give something to her in return
Maybe you do it though
Just to make her happy
BELLE
Belle is kind of the same
Shes the proxy along side with her brother Wise
She literally helps people through her bangboo and entire screen
She literally sees everything
But when she knows about your power to manipulate technology
She is already geeking over about it and she is always asking questions to learn more about your power
She now knows you can control and literally do anything to machines, computers, electronics, cameras, phones anything that is titled electronic
Belle asks you if you want her on commissions sometimes and you always are happy to help her if she seems to have trouble about something
Maybe you sometimes hack into stuff that she isn't able to
turning off cameras for the people you are helping, helping her bangboo
Anything to help Belle
And she appreciates you for that
#zenless zone zero#zzz#zenlesszonezero#zenless zone zero x reader#grace howard zzz#zzz grace#grace howard x reader#grace howard#zzz nicole demara#zzz nicole#nicole demara x reader#nicole zzz#nicole demara#belle zzz x reader#zzz belle x reader#belle zzz
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Sam fans most absurd and transparent attempt to rewrite MCU history and canon is the idea that Natasha Romanoff was anti-government and against government control.
Don't get me wrong, I freaking love Natasha to an insane degree, but like seriously, if you have to lie to uphold your headcanon then your headcanon is as weak as it can get.
You only have to *watch* Civil War to see through the lie. Natasha wasn't against government control.
She was on Team Tony. She was *pro-Accords*. She tried to persaude Steve to sign them (but accepted it when he wouldn't..)
She was the one who said that Steve's shield and Sam's wings were "government property" in that very movie.
She worked for Nick Fury and SHIELD before the Avengers were even formed. Her backstory is that she defected to America: she literally switched working for the Russian government to working for the American government.
Also what is this about Steve and Nat being Sam's "deepest emotional connections"?
Steve's "deepest emotional connection" was BUCKY. In canon Bucky was the guy Steve threw away his shield for not once but TWICE. He went against his own team members, relinquished the title and role of Captain America and became Nomad for two years to save *Bucky*.
Sam gave up the shield because he was worried people might be mean to him for being black. He didn't give a shit about Bucky- like ever. He certainly wouldn't relinquish the shield for his sake.
Natasha wasn't even that close to Sam either. Her closest connections were Clint Barton, Nick Fury, Steve and Bruce Banner in that order: then her sister took top spot.
It's notable that Clint is the only person we know for sure that Natasha told about her sister because he mentioned it in the Hawkeye show. This means she saw Clint and spoke to him sometime between Black Widow and Infinity War because it's the only time that conversation could have taken place.
She didn't tell Sam or Steve about her sister she told *Clint*.
#sam wilson#bucky barnes#mcu#captain america#thunderbolts*#natasha romanoff#steve rogers#clint barton#hawkeye#hawkeye show#yelena belova#Avengers#stucky
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I freaking adore your Patrick Bateman headcannons!! I wanted to know your thoughts on how Patrick would deal with an s/o that wasn’t very physically affectionate/touch-adverse? Thank you for your time!
sureee! thank you for using your time to leave a request <3


PATRICK BATEMAN x yn.
head-canons:
his ego cracks at the silence.
patrick isn’t used to being denied. not in restaurants, not in bed, not in the smallest gestures of daily control. he’s not necessarily sentimental about affection — his physical touch tends to be performative, part of a rhythm of dominance, a checklist — but it’s supposed to be expected. when he leans in to kiss your cheek and you turn slightly away, or flinch (even slightly) from a hand on your waist, something in him stalls. not rage, not immediately — just confusion. then a bruised sort of insult.
“is this…deliberate?” he might ask one evening, with a half-laugh that isn’t actually amused.
he says it like he’s joking. but he isn’t.
he’s watching you like you’re a rubik’s cube someone solved wrong on purpose. and he hates not understanding.
he becomes uncomfortably fixated.
he’ll pretend not to care. “everyone has preferences,” he says casually. “some people don’t like oysters, some people don’t like to be… touched.”
he shrugs like he means it. then spends two hours lying awake staring at the ceiling and wondering if it’s because you don’t like him.
he starts cataloguing when you withdraw, tracking it like data. at what time of day? during which moods? did he say something before it happened? he’ll create elaborate internal theories and rewrite them hourly.
and because he has no healthy concept of boundaries, he’ll test you on purpose — just to see. a kiss on the shoulder. brushing too close while passing.
if you stiffen, his mind spins: what the fuck is wrong with me?
but eventually, it gets worse — because he gets better at pretending.
when he realizes this isn’t something you’ll “get over,” he adapts — but with that hollow, sociopathic efficiency that always masks a darker intent.
he becomes gentlemanly. tactful. unnervingly patient.
“no touching today either? alright. can i at least walk you home?”
he doesn’t raise his voice. he doesn’t push. instead, he becomes the perfect partner.
he buys you gloves in winter so he has an excuse to hand them to you, fingers brushing.
he picks up books about neurodivergence, emotional processing, body trauma — he doesn’t read them all the way, but he flips to sections he thinks are relevant.
to anyone else, he looks like a partner trying to be sensitive.
but to patrick? this is sick manipulative strategy.
if you won’t let him touch you, he’ll make sure you still need him. emotionally. financially. existentially. in any other way.
when you do initiate, even gently, he spirals.
the first time you touch him, of your own volition — a hand to the chest, a kiss to the temple — his body goes still. for a second, his entire world freezes into that gesture.
he won’t show it. won’t breathe wrong.
but when you leave the room, he sits down on the edge of his bed and stares at his reflection like something irreversible just happened.
because it did. you gave him the one thing he didn’t demand.
and now he’s addicted.
he starts seeing your resistance as purity.
in the most twisted part of his mind, he begins to associate your touch-aversion with something higher. you’re not cold, he tells himself — you’re sacred.
you don’t give out pieces of yourself to just anyone. and that means what he gets from you — even just a slight lean against his side during a movie — is worth more than everything he’s taken from everyone else.
and this makes him territorial. disturbingly so.
the idea that anyone else could touch you — emotionally, sexually, even accidentally — starts to feel violating to him.
“they don’t even know what they’re handling,” he mutters once, eyes dark. “you’re rare. they’d ruin you.”
but the longing doesn’t go away — it warps.
he doesn’t stop wanting you physically. he just learns how to suffer it.
he kisses your hair when you’re asleep. runs his fingers along your arm when you’re not paying attention. leaves notes instead of touching your back.
every gesture is quiet, controlled — until one day it won’t be.
because patrick bateman is not patient by nature.
and eventually, the mask always cracks.
#christian bale type of boyfriend#christian bale type of bf#christian bale x yn#christian bale headcanon#christian bale x reader#christian bale#patrick bateman type of boyfriend#patrick bateman type of bf#patrick bateman x yn#patrick bateman headcanon#patrick bateman x reader#patrick bateman#patrick bateman gif#american psycho x yn#american psycho x reader#american psycho gif#american psycho movie
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getting arrested brought up a lot of psych trauma for me and there's so many things from years ago that are just playing on repeat in my mind right now. i haven't been this fucked up about solitary confinement for a long time. I've spent the first two weeks after getting arrested sleeping on the floor of my friends rooms because I can't be alone in a room without freaking out. and getting arrested wasn't anywhere near as bad as solitary in the psych institution or getting brutalized by the cops when they sectioned me. But it was just close enough to remind me of how fucking scared i was back then. how many fucking times i lost my mind. how the worst part wasn't even the assaults but that knowledge that by getting those diagnoses on my chart, i would never be seen as credible again. I had to lie there, understanding that psychiatric authority could rewrite my every action into a symptom that justified increased confinement. It didn't matter that parts of my madness were in response to the carceral violence i was surviving and that i had been placed in a situation where self-destruction was my only path for demanding autonomy. it did not fucking matter, because i had become a "patient" and that meant i would never be believed again in a system that prioritized social control over any real safety, care, or healing.
last week when they got me alone in a cell with five cops i started to feel that same type of fear that i felt all those years ago when i had to prepare myself to survive some pretty fucking unspeakable things. the moment it sunk in i would be there alone, with no witnesses, i started to feel that same type of powerlessness again. those labels of patient and criminal are weaponized in the same way to create a situation where your words, your protests, your actions are not legible or believed in any way (civil death is how the philosophers would probably describe it. "world-destroying world" is how they refer to solitary confinement.) Sitting in court for hours this week feels the same--seeing dozens of cases each day where the judge is just destroying people's lives and doesn't even fucking care.
i am so angry. i am so fucking angry. i've known all this shit for years, i've joined programs to learn to copwatch and courtwatch and inside-outside organizing and hours and hours of anti carceral suicide support training, harm reduction organizing, trying to build similar stuff for my institutionalized comrades. but i am just so fucking angry every day about the amount of people whose lives are destroyed, who are murdered by the state in these fucking places. it's the same fucking shit over and over again and like, this time i had comrades and community and knowledge and had that type of support I could rely on even when I was in there alone. but I want to scream when I think about how many people don't have any of that shit going through the same fucking thing day after day, who are as alone as I was four years ago, who disappear and are cut out of our communities day after day and we don't always even know whose missing. i want to scream and just keep screaming. i want to tear all this shit down, i don't want the world where I live in to be one where prisons and jails and institutions and any fucking form of confinement still stands.
#personal#been reading tons of Palestinian prison literature lately#will post some later#prison abolition#psych abolition#mad liberation#psych abuse tw#psych ward tw#solitary confinement#ask to tag#okay to reblog if you want
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Simon Said | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? )
Warnings: mind control, canon violence, canon gore, consent lines blurry bc mind control but nothing happens to the reader, mind control attempted suicide
Word Count: 5301
Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist
Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist
Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist
“I don't know, man, why don't we just chill out, think about this,” Dean said, trying to soothe his brother.
Sam had another vision while he was washing his face a state or two back. Dean was having to be the level-headed one at this moment because Sam was a complete basketcase. “What's there to think about?” the latter asked.
“I just don't know if going to the Roadhouse is the smartest idea,” Dean replied.
“I agree. I like ‘em, but I don’t trust any of them enough yet to tell them about this,” you said earnestly.
“Guys, it's another premonition. I know it. This is gonna happen, and Ash can tell us where,” Sam protested. “Plus, it could have some connection with the demon. My visions always do.”
“That’s my point,” Dean said. “There's gonna be hunters there. I don't know if going in and announcing that you're some supernatural freak with a— a demonic connection is the best thing, okay?”
“So I'm a freak now?”
You gritted your teeth awkwardly.
Dean slapped Sam on the thigh. “You've always been a freak,” he smiled weakly.
You looked at Sam concernedly, and it seemed he couldn’t keep still even if his life depended on it.
“Sam, it’s gonna be fine, I promise,” you said.
He looked back at you, offering a small smile at your attempt to comfort him. You could tell he was unconvinced.
***
When you arrived at the Roadhouse, Jo bounded up to you and the brothers. “Just can't stay away, huh?” she grinned to Dean.
You fought the urge to roll your eyes. You knew your jealousy was baseless but still could barely hold it at bay.
“Yeah, looks like. How you doin', Jo?” the older brother asked her.
Sam hurriedly asked, “Where’s Ash?”
“In his back room,” Jo replied.
He brushed past her wordlessly.
Jo turned after him, watching him go. “And I'm fine…”
“Sorry, he's, we're... kind of on a bit of a timetable,” Dean explained, following after his brother. You nodded and gave a closed-lip smile to Jo, who returned it, before heading after Dean.
You arrived at a door labeled, “ Dr. Badass is: IN.” You snorted at the sign, and Sam knocked on the door. “Ash? Hey, Ash?”
Moments passed; no answer. You knocked, this time saying, “Hey, Dr. Badass?”
The door unlatched and opened a crack to reveal a stark naked Ash. You averted your eyes, feeling intensely uncomfortable.
“Sam? Dean?” Ash sounded high. “Sam and Dean. And (Y/N). Hey, (Y/N).”
You laughed awkwardly, still turned away from Ash standing in the doorway. “Hey, Ash. Um. We need your help.”
“Well, hell, then! Guess I need my pants.” He shut the door, and you and the brothers turned to move back to the bar.
Sam described the scene from his dream and drew a logo of the bus he saw in his dream. Ash sat at a table with his homemade laptop and somehow found the logo based off Sam’s drawing. “Well, I got a match. It's the logo from the Blue Ridge bus lines in Guthrie, Oklahoma.”
“Okay. Do me a favor—” Sam began. “Check Guthrie for any demonic signs, or omens, or anything like that.”
“You think the demon's there?” Ash asked.
Sam nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”
“Why would you think that?”
Dean gruffly replied, “Just check it, alright?”
You shot him a look, as did Ash. He obliged, though, and said, “No, sir, nothing. No demon.”
“Alright, try something else for me. Search Guthrie for a house fire. It would be 1983, fire's origin would be a baby's nursery, night of the kid's six month birthday,” Sam said.
You looked around for eavesdroppers, only to find Jo cleaning a table nearby and watching your group.
“Okay, now that is just weird, man,” Ash protested. “Why the hell would I be looking for that?”
Sam pulled out a beer and set it next to his laptop. “'Cause there's a PBR in it for ya.”
Before Sam could finish his sentence, Ash replied, “Give me fifteen minutes.”
You sat next to Ash as he continued his work, and Dean left to get a beer from Ellen. Suddenly, REO Speedwagon’s “Can’t Fight This Feeling” started playing from the jukebox. You turned your head to the source of the sound and found Jo sauntering over to a horrified-looking Dean at the bar. Your blood boiled, but you just looked back at Ash and his computer. However, you didn’t register anything he was saying or scrolling through.
All you could think about was Jo’s attempted flirting with Dean. Technically, neither party were doing anything wrong; you and Dean had agreed to be friends for the time being. But you were furious at the thought of the two of them together. How disrespectful would that be for Dean to get with Jo days after saying he wanted you and agreed to be friends for now? Your jaw clenched, and you clutched your beer tighter.
Sam snapped in front of your face. “(Y/N), let’s go.”
You broke out of your thoughts and grabbed Dean’s jacket, pulling him along with you.
“See ya, Jo,” you called over your shoulder, stomping out of the bar with Dean in tow.
Dean chuckled at you, gently shrugging you off him. He stooped down to your level and whispered lowly, “Jealous?”
You jerked away from him, cheeks heating in embarrassment. “No.”
He just smirked in response and kissed the side of your head. “Sure, sweetheart.” He then walked ahead of you to the Impala.
You froze, flustered and unappreciative of the effect he had on you. “Dean—!”
***
“Sam, you can’t tell me Lord of the Rings is better than Erin Brockovich,” you argued with the younger brother. The two of you had been locked in a heated debate on your favorite movies of recent years, and these two were the next in question.
“(Y/N/N),” Sam started, “Lord of the Rings is based on six books of Tolkein’s experience in World War I, and Erin Brockovich is—”
“Two hours of fuckin’ perfection,” you cut him off. “Julia Roberts acted those other bitches under the table.”
“But the worldbuilding, (Y/N), it’s not even comparable!”
“Yeah, if you stick around long enough to learn about it. It’s a snoozefest from start to finish,” you giggled.
He scoffed. “Okay, what about—”
“If you two keep talkin’ film nerd, I’m gonna kill myself,” Dean grumbled.
“Killjoy. If it’s not eighties horror, you’re not interested, huh?” you commented, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back in your seat.
Dean’s eyes met yours in the rearview mirror. “Did you actually read anything back there, or….?”
“I did, thank you very much.” You pulled the stack of papers on the seat next to you into your lap. “Andrew Gallagher. Born in ‘83, like Sam. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like Sam.”
“You think the demon killed his mom?” Dean asked.
“Sure looks like it,” Sam responded.
“How did you even know to look for this guy?” Dean asked you.
“Well, Sam’s visions have all been attached to the demon or the other kids—”
“Like Max Miller, remember him?” Sam cut you off.
Dean scoffed. “Yeah, but Max Miller was a pasty little psycho.”
“Well, yeah, but my point is, he was killing people,” you began.
Sam continued, “And I was having the same type of visions about him. And now it could be happening all over again with this Gallagher guy.”
Dean asked, “How do we find him?”
You blew air out through your pursed lips. “Don't know. No current address, no current employment. He still owes money on all his bills; phone, credit, utilities—”
“Collection agency flags?” the older brother questioned.
“None in the system.”
“They just let him take a walk?”
You shrugged. “Seems like it. There's a work address from his last W-2; about a year ago. Let's start there.”
***
You and the brothers stopped at a coffee shop dressed in your “formal attire” to question a girl you knew to be friends with Andrew Gallagher about his whereabouts.
“You won't get anything out of Andy, guys. I'm sorry, but they never do,” she said.
“ ‘They’?” Sam asked.
She tilted her head in confusion. “You're debt collectors, right? Once in a while they come by. I don't know what Andy says to them, but they never come back.”
“Actually we're- we're lawyers. Representing his Great Aunt Leta. She passed, god rest her soul, and left Andy a sizable estate,” Dean lied. “Are you a friend of his?”
“I used to be, yeah. I don't see much of Andy anymore.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
A man came up behind the bashful woman. “Andy? Andy kicks ass, man.”
“Is that right?” Dean questioned.
“Yeah. Andy can get you into anything. He even got me backstage at Aerosmith once; it was beautiful, bro.”
The woman turned to him. “How about bussing a table or two, Weber?”
“Yeah. You bet, boss.” The man named Weber turned away.
“Look,” the woman sighed, “if you want to find him, try Orchard Street. Just look for a van with a barbarian queen painted on the side.”
“Barbarian queen?” Dean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“She's riding a polar bear. It's kind of hard to miss.”
***
She was right. It was incredibly hard to miss. You and the Winchester boys sat in the back of the Impala, having caught sight of the blue van with the aforementioned painted on the side of it from across the street.
“I'm sorry, I'm starting to like this dude. That van is sweet,” Dean grinned. He turned to his brother. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Sam, you look like you're sucking on a lemon, what's going on?”
The brunet sighed. “This Andrew Gallagher, he's the second guy like this we've found, Dean. Demon came to them when they were kids, now they're killing people.”
“We don't know what Andrew Gallagher is, alright? He could be innocent,” the older brother argued.
“My visions haven't been wrong yet.”
“Sam, you’re not one of them, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” you said.
“(Y/N), the demon said he had plans for me and children like me,” he replied. “Maybe this is his plan, maybe we're all a bunch of psychic freaks, maybe we're all supposed to be—”
Dean scoffed. “What, killers? So the demon wants you out there killing with your minds, is that it? Come on, give me a break. You're not a murderer, Sam! You don't have it in your bones.”
“No? Last I checked, I kill all kinds of things."
“Sam, that’s different,” you chimed in. “We kill shit that’s already dead. Or… undead. Or… not human— What are you looking at?”
“Got him,” was all Sam replied with. He nodded toward a man walking down the road in a robe, sandals, and baggy pants. The man in question blew a kiss up at a beautiful woman in lingerie leaning out of a window and waving down at him, got a coffee from some random guy he was passing, and then, shook hands with another.
“That's him. That older guy, that's him, that's the shooter,” Sam rushed out, referencing the man Andy had shaken hands with.
“Alright, you keep on him, we'll stick with Andy. Go.” Sam got out of the car at his older brother’s command.
“We will?” you asked, climbing over the front seat.
“C’mon, sweetheart.” Dean followed Andy— who had just climbed into his ostentatious van and began to drive off— closely.
A few minutes of following the man into a suburban area later, the van stopped in the middle of the road and approached the Impala. You discreetly handed Dean his gun from the glovebox and tucked yours into your jacket.
Andy leaned into the rolled-down window of the Impala. “Hey.”
“Hey, hey,” Dean replied.
“This is a cherry ride,” Andy grinned. “Man, the '67? Impala's best year if you ask me. This is a serious classic.”
“Yeah. Y'know, I just rebuilt her, too.”
“And who’s this gorgeous lady you got next to ya?”
“Oh, I’m (Y/N),” you smiled, suddenly not feeling right.
“Hey, can I have the car? And her, if she’ll let me?” Andy asked you and Dean.
“Sure, man,” Dean grinned, getting out of the car to let the man into the driver’s side.
“Hi, handsome,” you smiled, draping yourself over Andy’s shoulder. You weren’t quite sure what was happening to you, but you knew you weren’t fully in control of what you were doing.
“Take it easy,” Andy told Dean before driving off with you.
“Where ya takin’ me?” you asked him, still mentally horrified by the effect he was having on you.
“You’ll see,” he grinned, and you settled into his shoulder as he continued to drive.
***
About ten minutes later, the man driving you around received a call that seemed to really upset him. He drove a little faster and parked the car moments later once you’d arrived in front of the café you’d first gone to when you rolled into town.
“Baby? What’s wrong?” you asked, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Uh, I—” he paused, sighing. “Stay here, okay?”
“Okay!” You sat patiently with your hands folded in your lap, waiting for him to come back. You suddenly seemed to realize what you’d been doing and looked around yourself, trying to gain your bearings. You were relieved to see Dean and Sam approaching you. You jumped out of the car and leapt into Dean’s arms. “Dean! What the hell, man, he full-on Obi-Wan-ed us!” You let him go and hugged Sam. “What’s wrong, dude, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
“That guy, um, from my visions, he stepped out in front of a bus. Right after he got off the phone,” Sam explained. “We’re thinkin’ Gallagher called him.”
Your brows furrowed and stomach dropped. “Oh.”
“He would’ve had to be on the phone with you in the car,” Dean added. “Was he?”
You shook your head. “No. I mean, not until a second or two before he ditched the car and me in the front seat.”
“Did he… do anything to you?” Sam asked.
You shook your head.
“A real Samaritan, this guy,” the brunet quipped.
You turned to Dean talking to his car. “Oh, baby, I promise I’ll never leave you again.”
“Do you want a moment alone with her?” you deadpanned to Dean.
“We have a special bond,” he said after a pause. He turned back to his car. “She just doesn’t understand us.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the ends of your lips. “Anyway, he didn’t give any kind of a command over the phone. If anything, he was upset when he answered his phone not ten minutes ago. I don’t think he’s our guy.”
“Either way, how are we going to track this guy down?” Sam asked.
“Not a problem,” Dean smirked.
***
“I’ll give you that, his ride isn’t exactly ‘covert’,” you said upon finding the van again.
Dean pulled a small crowbar out of his jacket and pried the doors of the van open with it. The opened doors revealed a disco ball, fur rugs, a tiger painted on the wall, several thick books, and an enormous bong.
“Oh. Oh, come on. This is— this is magnificent, that's what this is. Not exactly a serial killer's lair, though. There's no... clown paintings on the walls, or scissors stuck in victims' photos. I like the tiger,” Dean chuckled in awe.
“Dean, he tried to kidnap me. And he kidnapped your car. Can we stay focused, please?” you deadpanned. You looked down at the books.
Sam picked one up. “Hegel, Kant, Wittgenstein? That's some pretty heavy reading, guys.”
Dean picked up the glass object lying next to them. “Yeah, and, uh, Moby Dick's bong.”
***
Sam and Dean bickered over whether or not they thought Andy was guilty as you zoned out in the backseat. That was, until, the man in question hit the passenger’s side door, startling all three of you.
“Hey! You think I haven't seen you three? Why are you following me?” He asked, his voice reverberating strangely in your ears.
Sam calmly began to explain. “Well, we're lawyers. See, a relative of yours has passed aw—”
“Tell the truth!” Andy’s voice echoed in your mind.
“We hunt demons,” Dean rushed out.
Andy jerked back in surprise. “What?”
“Dean!” Sam scolded.
“He’s telling the truth,” you jumped in. “That’s Sam. He’s Dean’s brother. I’m (Y/N). I met their dad on a hunt, and, uh, here I am! I follow them everywhere because they’re my best friends and the only real family I’ve ever had, and I’m terrified of losing them, and I followed them to you.”
“(Y/N), shut up!” Sam chastised, turning to face you.
“I’m trying,” you said.
“He's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer,” Dean continued, “and he's afraid that he's going to become one himself, 'cause you're all part of something that's terrible. And, I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right.”
“Okay, you know what? Just leave me alone,” Andy said.
“Okay,” Dean nodded.
Andy walked away from the door, and Sam followed. You and Dean clutched your heads.
“Holy fuck, that hurt,” you groaned.
“Did you really mean that?” Dean asked, clutching the bridge of his nose.
“What, that this hurts?” you scoffed.
“No, about me and Sam.”
“Dude, he made me Professor-Xavier-level spill my guts,” you grumbled. “I couldn’t have lied if I tried.”
Dean gave you a confusing look, but you got out of the car, feeling embarrassed. Sam held up a hand, warning you not to come any closer. You could vaguely hear Andy and Sam arguing about the origins of their powers and the doctor’s death, but all you could focus on was what you’d just admitted.
“(Y/N)—” Dean started.
“No, Dean.” You looked up at him. “We can talk about it one day when this is all over. Just… for now, let’s not.”
He didn’t say anything, but eyed you curiously. Before either of you could say another word to each other, Sam began to collapse to the floor. You and Dean ran to him to catch him and lowered him to the asphalt.
“Sam? What is it?” Dean asked his brother, shaking him.
“Look, I didn't do anything to him—”
“We know you didn’t,” you told Andy.
Sam snapped to attention. “A woman. A woman burning alive. A gas station, a woman is gonna kill herself.”
Andy’s voice rose significantly in pitch. “What does he mean, going to? What is he, what is—”
“Shut up!” you and Dean told Andy.
“She gets triggered by a call on her cell,” Sam continued.
“When?”
“I don't know.” Dean helped his brother stand as he continued talking, “But as long as we keep our eyes on this son of a bitch, he can't hurt her.”
Andy raised his hands up in surrender. “I didn't hurt anybody.”
“Yeah, not yet,” you said. Your head jerked toward the sound of a fire engine roaring and flashing by you on the highway next to you.
“Go,” Sam told you and Dean. The two of you sprinted to the car and headed off to follow the firetruck.
When you arrived, you were disheartened to see the first responders trying to put out the fire, keep civilians away, and recover the charred body of the woman who had died.
Dean immediately called Sam. “Hey, it's me. She's dead. Burned up, just like you said… Like minutes before I got here! I mean, the smell hasn't even cleared. What's up with your visions, man? This wasn't even a head start… Listen, you were with Andy when this whole thing went down, so it- it can't be him, it's gotta be somebody else doing this… What else is new? Well, we'll dig around here, see what else we can find.”
You and Dean roamed around talking to first responders and bystanders, posing as relatives of the woman who’d died. It was one of the things you felt guilty about in your line of work; posing as relatives of the dead to get information felt disrespectful to you. But alas, you had to, in this case.
You and Dean drove in silence back to the lot where Sam and Andy were talking on the bed of a broken truck as you rolled up.
“Victim's name was Holly Beckett, forty-one, single,” Dean explained to Sam.
“I called Ash back at the crime scene,” you began. “Said he found a Holly Beckett who gave birth when she was eighteen, back in ‘83. Same day you were born, Andy.”
“Andy, were you adopted?” Sam questioned.
He nodded as if it were obvious. “Well, yeah.”
Dean glared pointedly. “You were? And you neglected to mention that?”
“Never really came up,” Andy deadpanned. “I mean, I, I never knew my birth parents, and, and like you said my adopted mom died when I was a baby— do you, do you think this Holly woman could actually be my m—”
“I don't know,” you explained. “I tried to get a copy of the birth records, but they're hard copy only, sealed in the county office.”
Andy smirked. “Well, screw that.”
***
You and the brothers went through the drawers of file cabinets searching for phone records as Andy began leading the guards out of the room.
“Probably shouldn't have left you kids in here,” the guard said.
Andy rubbed a hand over his back. “No, it'll all be fine. Alright? Just go get a cup of coffee.” As the guard left, he continued, saying, “These aren't the 'droids you're looking for.”
You and Dean grinned. “Awesome,” the older brother said.
“I got it,” Sam said. “Andy, it's true. Holly Beckett was your birth mother.”
Andy looked like he’d been punched in the stomach. “Huh. Does anyone have a Vicodin?”
"No Vicodin. Weed, though," you told him, offering him a joint from a pack of pre-rolls in your jacket.
Andy considered but shook his head.
“Dr. Jennings was her doctor, too, I mean, he oversaw the adoption. You have a solid connection to both of them.”
“Yeah, but I— I didn't kill them,” he rushed out.
“We believe you,” Sam told him.
“But uh, who did?” Dean questioned.
“I think I got a pretty good guess,” Sam replied. “Holly Beckett gave birth to twins.”
Andy’s jaw dropped. “I have an evil twin.” He looked to you. "I may take that joint now."
Sam began flipping through another folder of documents. “Holly put you and your brother up for adoption. And you went to the Gallagher family, obviously, and your brother went to the Weems family from upstate.”
You looked over at the zoned-out Andy. “You okay? Still with us?”
He shook his head and looked over at you. “Um. What was my brother's name?”
Sam flipped to another page. “Here. Um, Ansen Weems. And he's got a local address.”
“He- He lives here?!”
Dean pushed a few buttons on the computer. “Let's get a look at him. Got his picture coming off from the DMV right now.”
“Dean, you can barely work a toaster. How’d you find his picture from the DMV?” you asked.
He just glared at you in response. You could tell he was messing with you, though.
You pulled the paper off the printer, eyes widening as you recognized the man in the picture. “Hate to kick you while you're freaked,” you said. “Take a look at that.”
When Andy caught sight of his friend from the café Weber looking back at him from the printed off image, his jaw dropped even further in shock.
***
It was a race against the clock to find where Weber had taken Andy’s ex-girlfriend, Tracy— the woman you spoke to at the diner— after Sam had another vision about her jumping off a bridge. Sam’s visions were getting more intense and painful; poor guy. Andy directed Dean to the bridge Sam described from his vision, and the four of you climbed out of the car in unison.
“(Y/N), Dean, you should stay back,” Sam said.
“No argument here. Had my head screwed with enough for one day,” Dean leaned against his car next to you. You watched Andy and Sam head to fend off Weber when you got an idea. “You got a Remington in the trunk? Or an FR F2?”
He smirked at you. “Have you met me?”
***
You and Dean found a spot in the trees far enough away from the scene below to get a clear shot at Weber without being able to hear one of his commands. Dean only had one FR F2, and you convinced him to hand it over to you. You were a damn near perfect shot and could easily take this guy out.
You lined up your shot, smiling smugly when you centered his head on the cross in the middle of the scope. ‘Gotcha,’ you thought. Suddenly, his head turned to you. He said something you couldn’t hear, but it was enough to get you to tuck the barrel of the rifle under your chin.
“(Y/N)! Stop it!” Dean tugged on your arm and managed to wrestle it away from the trigger when another gunshot rang out. As you came back into full control of your body, your breathing labored. You dropped the gun and collapsed backward into Dean’s chest, and his arms circled you as you turned your face into him.
“I got you, I got you,” he assured you as you wound your hands around his neck and buried your face in his chest.
“C’mon, we gotta get Sammy,” Dean said, pulling you down the hill to the bridge with him.
You found Sam passed out on the floor and sat with Dean while he did his best to wake his brother up. When he did finally awaken, the paramedics had begun to arrive. Andy’s skills were clearly developing given the way he spoke to the police about the incident.
“He shot himself. And you all saw it happen,” he told them. All of the policemen nodded in affirmation.
The paramedics fixed Sam’s shoulder and wrapped a disposable blanket around Tracy’s shoulders. You watched Tracy’s frightened gaze that she couldn’t quite meet Andy’s eyes with. You knew she wouldn’t ever see him the same, and that broke your heart a bit. Andy seemed to understand that, too.
“She won't even look at me,” he noted.
“Yeah, she's pretty shaken up,” Sam gently responded.
“No, it's— this is different. It's, uh, I never— I never used my mind-thing on her before. Before tonight. She's scared of me now.” His face fell as the words left his lips; as if it became real for him.
“Hey, Andy, I hate to do this, but um, we have to get out of here. Here. I wrote down my cell.” Sam handed him a piece of paper with his phone number on it. “You don't have to be alone in this, alright? If anything comes up, just call me up.”
“Wha- what am I supposed to do now?”
“You be good, Andy. Or we'll be back,” Dean stated firmly.
“Looks like I was right,” Sam said as you walked back to the car with the brothers.
“About what?” Dean questioned.
“Andy. He’s a killer after all,” he responded.
“No, he's a hero. He saved his girlfriend's life, he saved her life.” Dean pointed to you, his voice becoming firmer.
“Bottom line, he wasted somebody,” Sam argued.
“No, dude,” you jumped in. “He’s not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho, though. He was pushed into that. All of us would’ve died had he not.”
“Weber was pushed too, in his own way. Max Miller was pushed. Hell, I was pushed by Jessica's death.”
You scoffed. “What’s your point, man?”
“Right circumstances, everyone's capable of murder. Everyone. Y'know, maybe that's what the demon's doing. Pushing us. Finding ways to break us,” Sam continued.
You considered Sam’s words. “I agree that everybody’s capable, but—”
Dean cut you off. “Sam, we don't know what the demon wants, okay? Quit worrying about it.”
“You know, I heard you before, Dean, when Andy made you tell the truth. You're just as scared of this as I am.” Sam turned to his brother.
Dean scoffed. “That was mind control! I mean, it's like, like, that's like being roofied, man, that doesn't count.”
“What?”
“No. I'm- I'm calling do-over,” the older brother responded petulantly.
You giggled. “Are you five?”
“Doesn't matter. Look, we've just gotta keep doing what we're doing, find that evil son of a bitch and kill it,” he told Sam.
The brunet sighed, “Yeah, I guess.”
Dean’s phone rang through the uncomfortable silence. “Hello? Ellen. What's going on? Yeah, we'll be right there.”
***
When you arrived at the Roadhouse, Jo eyed Dean wantonly. You were repulsed, but you stomached your jealousy and pushed forward to Ellen. “What’s going on?” you asked her.
She motioned for you to sit at the bar. You did so, confused.
“Jo?” Ellen called to her daughter from behind the bar. “Go pull up another case of beer.”
“Mom,” she groaned.
Ellen stared her down. “Now. Please.”
As Jo left, Ellen leaned across the bar in front of you and the boys. “So. You uh, you want to tell me about this last hunt of yours?”
Dean shook his head. “No. Not really. No offense, it's just kind of a family thing.”
“Not anymore,” she responded. She dropped a stack of papers on the bar in front of you. “I got this stuff from Ash. Andrew Gallagher's house burnt down on his six month birthday, just like your house. You think it was the demon both times, don't you? You think it went after Gallagher's family?”
Sam answered before Dean could. “Yeah, we think so.”
“Sam—” Dean scolded.
“Why?” Ellen asked.
You began, “Ellen, you’re lovely and all, but this really isn’t—”
She cut you off. “You mind your tongue with me, girl. This isn't just your war, this is war. Now, something big and bad's coming, and it's coming fast, and their side holds all the cards. Now, at best, all we got is us. Together. No secrets or half-truths here.”
You eyed her warningly as Sam spoke. “There are people out there, like Andy Gallagher, like me. And um... we all have some kind of ability.”
“Ability?” Ellen asked.
Dean rolled his eyes, uncomfortable.
“Yeah. Psychic ability. Me, I have, um, I have visions. Premonitions. I don't know, it's- it's different for everybody. The demon said he had plans for people like us.”
“What kind of plans?”
“We don't really know for sure.”
“These people out there; these psychics— they dangerous?”
You and Dean jumped in quickly. “No.” Dean finished by saying, “Not all of them.”
Sam eyed his brother. “But some are. Some are very dangerous.”
“Okay, how many of them are we looking at?”
“We've been able to track a clear pattern so far. They've all had house fires on the night of the kid's six month birthday,” Dean explained.
“That's not true,” Sam told his brother.
You turned to him, confused.
“Weber? Or Ansen Weems, or whatever his name is— I looked at his files, and there was no house fire. There's nothing out of the ordinary,” he explained.
Ellen took yours and Dean’s shock as an opportunity to rejoin the conversation. “Which breaks pattern. So if there's any others like him, there'd be nothing in the system. No way to track 'em all down.”
“And so who knows how many of 'em are really out there?” Sam added.
Jo walked up behind you and the boys.
“Jo, honey?” her mom said. “You'd better break out the whiskey instead.”
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