#the rest were from me going through what my dad was getting rid of for space and claiming it for myself

[bookwyrminspiration]

I can behave normally around books

[slttygeto]

༉‧₊˚. "Shut up, mom!" prank with JJK men.

➜ featuring: nanami kento, gojo satoru, geto suguru.

➜synopsis: your child(ren) has a death wish for sure.

➜note: wasn't able to pick a name for nanami's child. also sorry to the anon who sent this, i had a hard time understanding the request at first. anyway, part 2?

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

༉‧₊˚. NANAMI KENTO

“You need to start learning how to fold your clothes,” you mention casually to your daughter as you carry a basket of warm laundry to the couch.

“Why would I do that?” Nanami’s eyes look up from his book, but he doesn’t budge.

“When you move out, you will only have yourself to rely on,” you continue with the advice and your daughter rolls her eyes as she makes her way to the kitchen.

“Ugh moving out this, moving out that. Just say you want to get rid of me.”

“What–I would never, I’m just reminding you that one day you will become an adult and–”

“Oh just shut up, mom!” 

You truly gave birth to a mini you, a prankster. When you first saw the tiktok trend, you and your daughter had giggled to yourselves at the thought of getting a reaction out of her father. Though, you did warn her of the repercussions. Your husband did not play when it came to showing respect to you.

“I beg your pardon?” Nanami sits up from the couch so fast, it almost makes you jump out of your skin. You don’t have time to react, or hold him back before he is storming towards the kitchen where your teenage daughter was hiding. “What did you just say to your mother?”

“I said shut up, because she was bothering me.”

“And you think that’s one way to speak to my wife?” You see his eyebrows furrow, he even slams the book he was reading down on the kitchen counter so hard that his arm veins are about to pop out.

“Kento,” you walk up behind him, calling out his name softly.

“No, let me take this.”

“No baby listen–”

“I said I will take this.” It’s only when he repeats himself in a stern manner, that your daughter starts to giggle nervously.

“Daddy, it was a prank.”

“Yeah, baby it’s a prank.” You rub his shoulders and biceps reassuringly. Your daughter quickly wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in his chest.

“I’d never be disrespectful like that.”

“Yeah well, it almost gave me a heart attack,” his voice is now much softer and warmer as he exhales, running his fingers through his daughter’s hair. He pulls you towards him and kisses your forehead before patting his daughter’s head.

“Now, whose idea was it?”

“Mommy’s.”

“Hey!” 

༉‧₊˚. GOJO SATORU

“Hey Ryuu, could you take out the trash please?” 

“No, I’m busy.” Satoru’s ears perk up at the sound of his son’s tone. But he doesn’t budge from where he’s standing in the kitchen.

“Baby, it’s been sitting there all day and it’s full. Could you please–”

“Shut up, mom. I said I’m busy.”

Normally, Satoru wasn’t easy to rile up. His relationship with his son was hilarious, one where he doted on his child whilst the latter pretended as though he couldn’t stand all the love and affection he received from his dad. But despite all the love that Satoru had for his son, you were number one. You come first, you are his wife and the mother of his child. When his son will leave, you will be the one he gets to spend the rest of his time with–and when he decided to marry you, a child wasn’t even in the picture.

So he will be damned if he was just going to stand there and let his son talk to you like that.

You freeze when you feel a sudden surge of cursed energy–you knew your husband when he got angry, it clouded over the rational part of his brain. So when you see him start to walk upstairs where his son is, you have to physically grab his arm to stop him. Thank god the infinity was off.

“Satoru– toru! Baby!”

“Who the fuck does he think he is, huh?” His eyes are glowing. You really shouldn’t have played this prank on him.

“It’s a prank baby.” 

“A prank?” It’s fascinating how this man can go from 0 to 100 back to 0 so quickly. He calms down so fast, glancing at the top of the stairs where he sees his son standing with his hands in his pockets.

“I told her it would be a bad idea.”

“I–hey! I didn’t think it was gonna be this bad,”

“I did,” Ryuu starts to walk down the stairs and past you two. “He’s said it before. He doesn’t play when it comes to people showing you respect, even if it’s his own son.” 

Satoru can only sigh at his son’s words before staring at you. “Don’t do that again.”

“I won’t…But I won’t lie, seeing you riled up like that–”

“I’m too old to have a sibling!”

༉‧₊˚. GETO SUGURU

Your girls were a giggly mess. You shush them before saying very loudly.

“In what world is this acceptable?” 

“Mom,” your daughter, Tsukimi, feigns an annoyed tone, refusing to look up from her phone. “I really don’t care.”

“But I do.” You stand over her bed, motioning for her twin sister to get into the role as well.

“Does it matter?” Asahi uses the same annoyed, bored tone. One that quickly catches Suguru’s attention. He walks into the main area from the garage before hearing the argument upstairs. 

Quickly wiping his hands with the dirty rag attached to his pants, he starts to make his way up to your twin daughters’ room to see what it was about. 

“Of course it does, I’m your mother.”

“You’re really just pushing it.”

“You sneaked out last night! Do you know how disappointed your father will be?” Suguru freezes up at the revelation. But he doesn’t let his disappointment or anger get the best of him, maybe the four of you can work this out–your girls were at a rebellious age, this was bound to happen and all he needs to do is figure out a way for all of you to get along without–

“Aren’t you supposed to be our best friend or something?” Tsukimi sits up on the bed, furrowing her eyebrows in a way that reminds you how similar her and her father’s features are. 

“Right now I’m your mother.” 

“Oh would you just shut up?”

A loud slam makes the three of you flinch, and you turn to find Suguru standing by the door looking as angry as a raging bull.

“Who said it.”

“Wha–”

“Who said it. Who was it?” He is so furious you could see steam coming out from the top of his head. “Have you lost your fucking minds to be talking to your mother like that? Did I fail at educating you or what?”

“Suguru–”

“No,” he puts a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you out of the room. “I need to talk to them.”

“No wait, listen–”

“I don’t want to hear it.” When you see that he had a stern look on his face, you realize that you need to save your daughters from the prank.

“It was a prank. I promise you.” 

“It really was a prank,” your twin daughters are sitting on the same bed, looking as sheepish and as guilty as ever. 

“And it was my idea,” Tsukimi adds. 

“And I didn’t stop her.” Your thumbs trace his cheeks, smiling apologetically at him. “Sorry,” 

Suguru sighs, resting his hands on his hips as he shakes his head.

“Fucking prankters. That almost gave me a heart attack.”

“But admit it, we’re good actresses, right?” Asahi asks with a grin and Suguru chuckles before ruffling her hair.

“Yeah, you sure are.”

➜ ┊: COMMISSIONS | KOFI

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[strawberrymatchawhore]

p power

rafe cameron

“take it from him and i leave him with nothing”

summary- john b cheats on you with sarah cameron you get revenge by getting with her brother

warning- DUBCON, sex under the influence, raw sex (wrap it folks), drinking, smoking, partying, fighting, sex tape (reader knows hes recording but doesnt know he sent it to her ex), semi public beach house sex, meanish pussy drunk rafe lol

you took a hit of your pen, gently coughing from the amount you just inhaled. you were currently in your boyfriends room, confronting him. you had caught john b cheating on you with sarah cameron, kook princess and someone you thought was your friend.

“can you not do that in my room? take this seriously.” john b said swiping his hands in the air to get rid of the cloud puffs floating. you scoffed, the audacity.

“i dont give a fuck about what youre asking for me to do right now john b, you cannot be for real about me taking this seriously.”

“i dont know what to tell you, she was going through something. she needed me.” john b gave his bullshit excuse which made you even more angry.

“what about me, did you even think about me for one bit before you decided to fuck her ?” you screamed at him, getting up from the couch ready to leave the room. as you have your hand on handle, john b grabs it. his large hand covers yours.

“i love you.. please” he pleads, eyes getting wetter.

“dont touch me with that dirty ass hand john b, i shouldve known. no matter how much i showed my love for you, no matter how much i cared. you will always choose her.” you gritted through your teeth.

“i-”

“no, its okay. im done with this shit.” your voice cracks and you slam the door in front of john b's face, driving away with tears blurring your vision.

AT THE PARTY

you strut your way into the party, the annual bonfire that happens the same week every year. you grab a pink solo cup and fill it to the brim with jungle juice. you had already pregamed before and begged your friend to drive you here, laughing at yourself when you caught yourself tripping over the pile of beer cans on the floor. obvious that you were feeling the effects of the weed and alcohol combining.

you were tired, physically and mentally, you couldnt deal with anyones bullshit anymore. especially after what happened earlier in the day, you just needed a break.

“what are you doing here ?” you heard a voice question from behind, you turned and saw rafe cameron looking at you up and down.

“oh hey rafey, nothing honestly just trying to forget shit you know ?” you down the rest of your drink and turn again to retrieve another cup. before you can take a sip out of it, it gets knocked down by rafe. who angrily walks over to john b and sarah cameron who were conversing with each other in the corner.

oh shit

“the fuck are you doing bro? chill.” john b says and backs up. sarah tries to intervene by calling his name and you just stand there interested in what was about to happen.

“you feel good about yourself ??” rafe pushes john b, getting ready to instigate a fight. you fight the urge to run up and defend your man. but you stayed still.

this is what he deserves

sarah cameron stops her brother in his tracks and tries to stop him, he ignores her.

oh yeah try to get him to stop, cheater.

“looks like you got my sloppy seconds... good luck with that. shes a real handful” john b insensitively says, rafe continues his way toward him. and within a second throws a hard punch to his face. john b falls to the ground and rafe looks over him.

“you like that shit johnny ? huh ?” he moves and hovers over john b's body, and continues to beat him unconscious. kiaras dad finally pulls them apart, and you walk over to rafe checking to see if he was okay. sarah starts to angrily push rafe, but he doesnt budge.

“sarah you better stop that shit before you end up on the ground just like john b.” you glared at her angrily and pushed her away before gently grabbing rafes arm and walking away with him.

……..

“jeez rafe you really fucked him up…” you said while wiping the blood off his knuckles with disinfectant. he winces when you finishes it off with ointment.

“yeah i dont know what i was thinking, i just.. its just that he pisses me off so much an-” rafe drunkingly rambled, you hesitated. but then losing to your own thoughts you grab his face and kiss him. you quickly pull away fluttering your lashes, mouth slightly open. taking short deep breaths in and out, nothing but the sound of waves crashing could be heard.

“fuck im sorry.” your voice cracked, tears forming in your eyes. you even shocked yourself with that action, moving your hand from your face you fidget with your bikini top. rafe then gently grabs your face and makes eye contact, kissing back but with more passion. everything in the room starts to blur and your focus is only on him. he pulls away and begins to hover over you. cornering you further into the plush couch.

“nah don’t apologize.. just kiss me back” rafe whispers into your ear making his way down to your neck, giving it light kisses and sucks. his hands wander around your body, you begin to grow desperate and grind yourself onto his thigh, hands rubbing his back. you grabbed his hair to pull him closer to you, he groans in response.

"you dont understand how badly i want you.." he kisses you deeper.

"..how badly i wanted to do this." he backs up and takes off his shirt, his abs and buff body glistening from the ocean water combined with the low light of the moon. he lowers himself and his hands reach for your bottoms, untying them then tossing them onto the floor.

your breathing hitches when you feel his cool breath on your pussy, rafes arms grab at your thighs and spread your legs open.

"oh fuckkk" you lightly moaned when you felt his tongue on your clit making slow but rough licks. rafe laughs and moans into you, sending vibrations throughout your whole body. he looks up at your and makes eye contact with your glossy glazed over eyes.

"you taste so fucking good." he continues to lap at your juices, you looked at the blonde. dazed and memorized by how pretty he was. forgetting all your worries and troubles because of how good he worked his mouth. it was over for you when you felt his fingers prod at your entrance.

the combination of his long thick fingers sliding in and out of your wet pussy and his mouth on your clit drove you over the edge.

"fuck, you gonna cum f'me? please cum baby." he slurps and fingers you faster, your chest heaves up and down before you cum all over his face and make a mess. but rafe doesnt stop there, he removes his fingers and uses both his arms to hold your legs open. continuing to eat you out.

"oh my go- fu- please.. too much! rafe please sto-" you mewl trying to close your legs to no avail.

"uh uh stay still f'me" rafe tuts, eventually he stops and gets up, his mouth and chin dripping with your juices. he grabs your jaw and kisses you before taking off his shorts, the classic calvin klein banding accentuates his v line and you could see his bulge.

you sit up and your fingers hook at the band and pull his boxers down, immediately his cock springs up and hits his stomach. your eyes widened.

"its not gonna fit." you say, his tip is leaking with precum and you fight the urge to swallow him whole right then and there.

"dont worry it will." his hand pushes you back down and he uses his knees to spread your legs. rafe starts to rub himself up and down your pussy, circuling his tip around your clit. and you let out a satisfied hum. he was fighting the urge to just shove himself completely inside you and fuck you deep into the couch. rafe eyes your phone, and leans over to grab it.

he hovers the phone over your face and unlocks it, opening your messages app. he clicks on john bs contact and sees that he left 30+ texts, laughing at the idiot rafe then clicks on the camera feature.

“rafe w-what are you doing?" you asked, closing your legs shyly. your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"dont worry, just trust me." rafe responds, leaning down to kiss you sloppily before he pressed record on the camera. using his free hand to push your thighs apart he moves the camera closer to your bodies, your lower body and his are in view. rafe then uses his fingers to spread your lips, showing the camera your slick. he slides two fingers inside you and gives it a few pumps before he removed them.

"open up f'me." he gently taps your cheek and slides the two fingers into your now open mouth. his long fingers caressing your tongue, automatically you start to suck his fingers. cleaning them.

"thats it... good job baby." he admires the way your plump swollen lips wrapped around his fingers, at this point his cock was aching in need to pump you full of his cum. he must have you.

"please rafe.. need you." you whined and looked up at him, watery eyed and pupils blown. you desperately moved your hips, and thank god he started to rub your aching pussy with his cock again. the both of you were hungry and needy. gentle whines filled the room, and rafe eventually slid himself in.

"oh fuck." rafe dragged out, slowly pushing deeper and deeper inside you.

"youre so tight, holy shit. mmmmm." bottoming out he stayed there for a moment to let you adjust. he was so long and thick, you felt every vein on it in your walls. you seriously had nothing to say, no words could have been let out to describe what you were feeling right now. pure ecstasy.

the both of you continued to say nothing as rafe sped up, drilling harder and faster into your wet pussy. his balls slapping against you ass, nothing could be heard besides moaning and the sound of his rough thrusts. you could barely see anything aside from rafes figure but you were sure that his back and biceps were now covered in scratch marks from you. the bright flash of the camera blinding you, you've never been filmed like this before. and the thought of you being slut out on camera made you even more wet.

"such a good fucking slut for me, youre takin' me so well." his free hand gripping tight on the fat of your hips to guide himself against your sweet spot.

"oh FUCK!" you let out a combination of a moan and scream when he continued to hit that spot, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.

"does your ex fuck you like this?" he slows down his pace, but you were too fucked up to respond.

"huh?" he asked and slid out just to snap hips back into you bringing you back to reality.

"no! oh fu- youre so much bigger.." you moaned, your pussy leaving a white ring at the base of rafes cock.

"yes yes yes. ah!" you whined when he sped up, which you didnt think was possible. rafe was pounding you so hard you were seeing stars. your hand went to cover your mouth but rafe slapped it away, and put it on your lower stomach.

"dont do that i wanna hear you moan f'me."

"you feel that?" rafe asked, you could see his cock bulging from your stomach.

"god- squeezing me so fucking tight..." rafe grunted, and lowered his hand to rub circles on your clit. your mouth slack and open, boobs bouncing up and down from rafes thrusts.

rafe wasnt even sure if he was getting all of this on frame, he was jackhammering into you like he hated you. he relished in the way your cunt clenched around him like you were made for him. and he was sure you were. all perfect, pretty and stupid for him.

"rafe i feel like im gonna pee, stop!" you screamed out and gripped his bicep. your stomach burned in pleasure and you felt like it was going to explode.

"pl-please oh my god, oh... my"

"thats it baby, squirt all over my fucking cock. youre so pretty like this." your eyes started water even more, he was fucking you so good you stared crying. overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions and feelings.

"so cute when you cry for me, if you keep doing that im gonna cum inside you." embarrassed you turn your head away and shake your head, the squelching and sight of your cunt was so sloppy and messy. rafe gripped your jaw and forced you to look at the camera.

"open your eyes sweetheart, keep looking at me." his fingers made their way down to your throat and squeezed.

"fuck." he whimpered, rafe has never done that before. the both of you were shocked but youve never been turned on this much.

"mmm keep doing that, you sound so fucking hot rafe." you urged him.

"im gonna cum, can i cum inside you? please baby" he begged, his thrusts becoming less controlled.

"yes, fuck. i need you to fill me right now. i wanna see your cum dripping out of me, breed me." the both of you were whiney, your cheeks were wet and your legs were shaking and sore.

"shit, you are so perfect.. this pussys so p-perfect." rafes body was tired, rutting into you like you were nothing but a fleshlight. his tip twitching inside you before he came deep into your cervix, making sure to push every ounce of his seed inside you before pulling out. and filming your dripping cunt before he ended the video.

rafe didnt have evil intentions but he wanted to let john b know what he lost, who would want to miss out on a girl like you?

*attached video*

"shes busy rn bro"

5 hours later you were laying next to a knocked out rafe, finally sobering up you went to check your phone. the most recent message being from none other than your ex.

why is he spam texting me?

"what the fuck? youre such a bitch" the text read, confused and curious you decided to scroll up. only to get surprised by a video of you and rafe from earlier. you dropped the phone in shock and turned to see rafe who woke up from the sudden sound. you picked your phone back up and shoved the phone into rafes face.

“what the fuck is this rafe?!"

[sweetshuga]

ⓘ content warnings: smut ⋆ +18 ⋆ age gap ⋆ raw doggin’ ⋆ big dick!matt ⋆ semi-public sex ⋆ (kinda) rough sex ⋆ daddy kink ⋆ partial bondage (wrists) ⋆ breeding kink (?) ⋆ creampie ⋆ praise kink ⋆ (slight) degradation kink ⋆ dacryphilia (?) ⋆ overstimulation ⋆ use of safe word + more.

He isn’t supposed to feel this way.

Matt knows he isn’t supposed to feel this way about his student, but the way you speak to him with your voice all soft and smooth – as if you know what that does to him – or the way you look at him with those damned fuck-me eyes like you want him to sport a hard-on in the middle of the lecture—was making it hard to keep things professional.

He had previously put boundaries between you and made it clear that he isn’t ready to make whatever you had going on more than it already is.

Despite being the one to initiate the stop to your physical relationship, he felt disappointed when you didn’t even complain or beg like he thought you would.

Matt sighed deeply, shaking his head subtly as if that’d get rid of the distracting thoughts he was having in the middle of a lecture.

As he droned on about the topic he is supposed to go through today, he couldn’t help but notice how distracted you were, blatantly flirting with some guy in the third row from the front, batting your eyelashes and smiling so sweetly as you listened to the guy talk.

A muscle in Matt’s jaw twitched, his eyes narrowing when he saw the guy lean in close, his hand casually coming to rest on your arm.

‘Snap out of it Matthew.’ He mentally scolded himself.

But he simply couldn’t focus on teaching with you sitting there, giving fuck-me eyes to some other guy who... is probably more suitable for you than a divorced dad like him.

He was starting to overthink, his anxiety taking over for a split second until you looked his way, your eyes locking with his and your lips curling up with a barely there smirk – in a way that almost seemed like you were taunting him – before you looked back at the guy.

Matt’s eyes darkened when he understood that you were deliberately trying to push his buttons, trying to make him jealous, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t affected.

He was burning with jealousy.

He texted you during a lull in the lecture – where students were either taking notes from the slideshow or doing their own thing – and his mood soured further when you acted like a damned brat.

«read the text messages»

Your breath hitched in your throat as you read his messages and you could see how genuinely pissed off he was even through text.

Your heart pounded against your ribcage as you walked towards Matt’s office, your panties already soaked through due to the way he looked at you during the lecture.

You simply wanted to have fun and see if Matt would care if you flirted with a guy – since he wanted to end their arrangement – but now you wondered if you did the right thing.

A shaky breath full of nerves and excitement exited you as you finally reached his office and slowly opened the door to find him sitting at his desk, his jaw tight, eyes dead and dark.

“Lock the door, sweetheart.” Matt’s voice was low, controlled and eerily calm.

Seeing him so calm had you thrown completely off, and you decided to play it safe and drop the attitude, complying with his request as you closed and locked the door of his office before turning around to face him.

More arousal pooled in your panties from the way he was watching you with those intense, blue eyes of his.

“Come here.”

Your legs moved on their own as you walked towards his desk, feeling like you were fully exposed due to how intensely he was looking at you—shamelessly raking his gaze over your body as if he was undressing you in his mind.

“Sit on my lap.” His expression was unreadable as he spoke, giving way to nothing.

You could be a brat and say no and that he was being unfair, but the way his words flowed out of his mouth so smoothly like honey had your knees weak.

You lowered yourself onto his lap without any complaint, your bare thighs on each side of his hips and your pleated skirt riding up due to the position, showing more of your thighs.

Matt’s hands immediately placed themselves on your thighs, caressing them in a borderline possessive manner that had you feeling like your whole body was burning with desire.

“Did you have fun?” He suddenly asked, catching you off guard and eliciting a confused “what?” from you.

Matt’s lips curled up with a ghost of a smirk, finding your confusion endearing despite the anger and jealousy still lingering in him.

“Did you have fun shamelessly flirting with that guy? Was it exciting to have him eating right out of your fucking palm the moment you gave him those fuck-me eyes?” His jaw muscle ticked at the mere reminder of the guy.

His hands trailed higher up your thighs, making your breath hitch.

“And that damned attitude... Jesus.” Matt chuckled mirthlessly, his grip on your thighs tightening as he leaned forward until your faces were inches apart.

“Should I just fuck it out of you? That bratty fucking attitude of yours?”

Your mouth opened and closed but nothing came out—too stunned by his sudden demeanor to say anything.

He was usually more gentler than this but clearly your attempt to make him jealous affected him more than you thought it would.

“Y-yeah...” You managed to breathe out, not knowing what exactly you were saying yes to but your body screamed for his touch – almost starving for it – which made it difficult to think straight.

Matt’s smirk widened slightly at your shaky agreement, his pupils dilating further. His length strained painfully against the fabric of his jeans, pulsing against your clothed pussy.

His hands confidently trailed up from your thighs to just below your tits, his thumbs grazing the underside of them through your shirt before trailing his hands back down, this time gripping your hips tightly to pull you closer.

“You gonna be a good girl for me? Let me fuck you right here in my office?”

His words had your stomach doing somersaults, and you found yourself nodding, whispering a needy “please, prof”.

A slow grin made its way onto Matt’s lips when he saw your desperation, finding your needy plea equal parts amusing and sexy.

The moment you sank down on his cock, Matt’s hands gripped your hips almost painfully—no doubt leaving marks as he began to lift you up and down repeatedly while thrusting up into you.

“Wearing such a slutty little skirt to class... Did you want me to fuck you like this?”

He panted harshly, his hold on your hips tightening slightly as he used you as he pleased, going so deep it bordered on painful due to his tip pounding against your cervix.

“N-no- didn’t mean— f-fuckk!”

You barely held back a scream as Matt changed his angle, the slight curve of his cock helping him hit that sweet spot inside your gummy walls.

His hips pistoned up into you at an impressive speed, burying his length deep each time.

Matt gritted his teeth, grunting in exertion and looking like a vision in his sexy red sweater and slight scruff that screamed dilf.

Your hand slid down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts as you got closer, your eyes rolling back briefly as your mind flooded with pleasure.

Matt saw the action and his eyes darkened, his jealousy rearing its ugly head.

Only he could touch you.

It was an absurd thing to think, but in this moment everything made him jealous, even your own clothes for always being wrapped around you.

Matt stopped abruptly, causing you to stop moving too.

You stared at him in confusion as he took his belt – which was placed neatly on his desk – and bound your wrists behind your back.

You were slightly taken back, but you were definitely not against it.

“Kinky,” you teased, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“Shut up.” He snapped.

“Safe word.” Matt looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to tell him a word, but you just stared at him, confusion etched on your face.

“Safe word?” You repeated dumbly.

“Tell me a safe word... because I don’t know if I can stop myself from ruining this sweet pussy for anyone else.”

He was dead serious—and that had your body shuddering in excitement.

“My lecturer is hot.”

His brows furrowed at the sentence, but then a lazy, dangerous grin spread across his lips.

“You’re not taking this seriously.” His words were eerily calm, almost like he was taunting you for being so stupid—like he knew he’ll reduce you to nothing more than whimpers and moans.

Oh you were so so naïve.

Matt was fucking you so hard that you were seeing literal sparks behind your eyes every time he went deep.

“Oh fuck! I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum-- daddy, fuuuckk—”

Your thighs trembled as you began moving your hips in time with his thrusts, chasing after that sweet release.

“What did you just call me?”

Matt suddenly stopped moving, eliciting a needy whine of protest from you. His voice dropped an octave lower when he spoke again, becoming huskier, giving way to how much your word affected him.

“Daddy? Is that what you just said?”

“S-sorry, it just slipped out... I-”

You breathed heavily, your chest heaving with ragged breaths. Your whole body felt like it was on fire and the pressure that was building in your abdomen slowly subsided due to lack of stimulation.

Matt couldn’t believe how much you calling him daddy turned him on and he needed to hear you say it again.

He began to fuck you in earnest, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist to keep you from squirming as his tip kissed your cervix with each hard thrust.

His free hand tangled in your hair and pulled you down into a heated kiss—all tongue and teeth.

Matt pulled back and whispered harshly against your lips, his voice deeper than usual.

“Call me that again.”

And you did.

“Daddy—ffuuckk--”

You chocked back a moan when he began to fuck you faster, his hips slapping against your thighs and creating loud wet smacks.

Matt groaned low in his throat when he heard your desperate mewls and whimpers, the sounds of your pleasure only making him fuck you harder.

“M’gonna-” Your breath hitched, “Cum-- Matt, sh-shit—shit!”

Your whole body tensed – mouth opening in a silent scream, back arching – as the first wave of your orgasm crashed over you. Warmth spread in your tummy, pleasure coursing throughout your whole body.

Your mind blanked with pleasure, zeroing in on the feeling of his cock still plowing in and out of you, hitting your sweet spots.

He fucked you through your orgasm, relishing in the sight of your eyes rolling back in pure, unadulterated, bliss as tears of pleasure streamed down your cheeks.

“Oh, fuuckkk, you’re squeezing my dick soo good.” Matt groaned, feeling himself growing closer thanks to the feeling of your inner walls spasming around his sensitive shaft.

The sight of your tears was making his balls draw tight, his climax approaching quickly.

“Gonna cum,” Matt warned, “Need to fill up this pretty pussy and stuff you full of my cum— fuuck--”

His movements became jerky and uncoordinated as he got closer to the edge, fucking you in sharp, deep thrusts.

His hips stuttered as he came deep inside you, eyes rolling back briefly before closing shut, mouth opening in an "o" shape. His load painted your velvet walls white as you milked his cock dry.

But Matt didn’t stop there.

His need to make you his and knock you up were too strong.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growled softly and his eyes snapped open—blue orbs basically black with desire.

“Need more... You can take more, can’t you sweetheart?”

You found yourself unable to say no even though you were too sensitive—his words and the primal look in his eyes had you feeling like you might as well just let him knock you up.

Watching you nod, Matt lips curled up with a satisfied smirk.

“Good girl.” He whispered, fingers gripping your hips so tightly that you were sure you’d have bruises tomorrow.

He fucked you through your fifth orgasm – having cum thrice himself – not letting you catch your breath. You felt your nerves burning with overstimulation—your body overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving you.

“l-lecturer—mmh-ah—is hot... my lecturer- my lecturer is hot!” You cried out, feeling yourself trembling with overstimulation.

Matt snapped out of it at the sound of your trembling voice, his gaze softening profusely when he heard you struggling to say your safe word.

“Should’ve picked a shorter one.” He murmured breathlessly, a hint of teasing in his tone. He slowed down before stopping completely, pulling you into a surprisingly gentle kiss.

Matt pulled out slowly – hissing softly against your lips at how sensitive you both were – before gently freeing your wrists from the makeshift handcuffs he made out of his belt, rubbing your reddening wrists.

He pulled you closer and your body immediately melted into him, making him hold you tighter against his chest as he nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling your sweet scent mixed with your perfume and the musky scent of sex.

“Good girl,” Matt whispered against your hair, “My good girl.”

✰ english is not my first language! || wc: 2.2k ✰

Isa’s rambling ۶ৎ My bad for taking so long to finish this fic but your girl was having a hard time writing for some reason like I didn’t have an ounce of motivation, but I finally finished it and I feel like I kinda rushed the ending ’cause I wanted to post it today.

⟢ lecturer!matt taglist: @blahbel668 @ribread03 @sturniologals @annedebeijer @sleazy-1 @m0r94n @cherryswifeyy @lvrsturniolo @iluvnicksturniolo @sturniolosluttt @sophand4n4 @squishybxg @matts-247 @lifecansmd @zokhlyxo @v33ang3l @jibitzlesscrocs @oopsiedaisydeer @shortnsweetsturnz @sagesturns @corspebridedelrey @anonymouslyachrisgirl @heartsforvin @lvrsturniolo @poolover123 @trustinsturniolos @mattsturnsgirlie @riannas-stuff @sturnboos @whore4-chrissturniolo @crazy4weeed @chrismoans @chlosallow @juless-is-elsa @nai2two @natesfavoritehoe @ineedchrisbadly @l0s3rhaha @fwsecret @lyingbymalcom

[13tinysocks]

My Dead Girlfriend

The GDA's golden boy isn't so golden anymore. You make a trip into a trap.

REF! REF, *TWEEET TWEEEETTT* THAT'S A RED CARD! REF! NSFW

[Invincible Variants X Reader]

[Part one]  [Ao3]  [18] [20] [Chapter Index] [Cum Jar] [Full Piece Here - It's Mine!]

19 * Comeuppance [10.2k]

"I'm on probation for a trillion years,

There's nothin' to do but get drunk and get fucked,

an' start mailin' out the bombs, ya hear?

Hell yeah!"

Eat 5678 - Go Hang

        "Why did you make me do this?"

        He can't scream. Can't move a muscle beyond the involuntary breaths his lungs are forced to take, stuttering and wet but enough to keep him conscious. Burning all the way up and down his crushed windpipe. His throat was open, exposed to the cool, gentle breeze that sent shocks of pain along every pulsing nerve. He felt the icy chill on the nodules of his spine, on his detached vocal cords. He felt his head mostly away from his body, snapped hard to the side. The only thing keeping him alive was the tenuous connection of his exposed spine to his brain, screaming for him to move.

        Above him, Dad was on his haunches. Fists hot with his blood. Gesturing wildly though both his eyes were swollen shut. "You're fighting so you can watch everyone around you die!" If he were a normal human boy, he'd be gratefully dead- still by your side after Dad tore you apart. You were a distraction he let make him weak. He tried proving Dad wrong, to get revenge on your behalf but Dad was right- the fight didn't last long. 

        "Think Grayson, think!" It's a taunt, one that stings as badly as his nonexistent throat. He'd become so well known and trusted within the GDA people called him by his last name- after he'd joked Mr. Grayson was his Dad. It became a second name, only said within the halls of the GDA or by you or through his earpiece by Cecil, who he considered a friend. The whole team treated him well. He liked them all. Liked being a hero, making a difference. 

        "You'll outlast every fragile, insignificant being on this planet!"

        Dad thought it was a hobby. Something he'd drop once he learned their real purpose. He didn't. How could he when he loved this planet and its people so much? Earth was home, Earth had his friends. It had Cecil and Donald who had a cake waiting for him in the command room on his eighteenth birthday after he returned from a hard fought mission- forgetting his own birthday just like Dad had. Then he went to you, vanilla cake on his breath, the rest of it saved in Tupperware. You had your own cake waiting for him, your hands covered in frosting as you hastily tried to write 'Happy Birthday' across the top in a blue gel.

        "You'll live to see this world crumble to dust and blow away!" Nolan didn't care about his reminiscing. Was so lost in his rambling he didn't sense the fleet coming.

        Grayson made love to you on the messy countertop. Your fingers curling blue, sticky icing streaks into his hair. You showered together, laughing at things he couldn't remember. You curled up in his arms, watching the trailer for the animated Seance Dog show coming next spring. A spring you would never see. 

        "Everyone and everything you know will be gone!" Dad made sure of that. Got rid of that 'distraction' that he thought made his son such a wimpy bleeding heart. Got rid of his own distraction, that woman he called his wife- marriage was such a pathetic Earthly concept- with you both out of the way, nothing would stop them. 

        "What will you have after five-hundred years!?" 

        Not you. It was all he could think about half-buried into the side of the mountain- You. The planet's safety didn't matter. You. His father's betrayal didn't matter. You. You. You. Dead. Nothing mattered. You were dead. You. You. You. Dead. Dead. Dead.       

        Cecil watched the fleet from the control room. Drone operated, housing experimental quantum bombs. Grayson willingly gave samples of his DNA for research purposes, anything they could think of or want. His blood, his skin, a mucosal swab, a muscle biopsy. He never considered saying no, thinking the GDA would use it to come up with new armor or as a control to test against viruses. He didn't think they would use it to make defenses against Viltrumites, when there were only two of them on the planet, when they didn't know about the invasion plans. But Cecil had known Nolan a long time. Long enough to not trust him. 

        He knew Nolan was hiding something after the Guardians were murdered. They both did, but Grayson was so adamant Nolan wasn't in the wrong. He thought his Father was scared of a greater threat, something he was afraid to share, and he just had to figure it out. Cecil knew otherwise and that's why he was prepared.

        Nolan wasn't slow. He shot up, throwing the first few drones into the atmosphere. They were dummies anyways. Used so medical could teleport to Grayson, get him off the mountain and into GDA care. Only when he was safe did the bombs rain.

        Cecil would come to feel bad for Grayson in the weeks after the attack. Kid lost his girlfriend and his mom in one fell swoop. Lost the dad he thought he had, a hero and thought to be a mild, stoic man. Now he was kept hundreds of miles underground, limbs trapped in individual cuffs, each double the size of his body. Nolan had plenty of visitors in his new prison. Cecil and his interrogation team mostly. Grayson never came. Didn't even blink when Cecil told him Nolan was still alive. Not even when he divulged that the only reason they could contain him was because of Grayson's cooperation, all of the DNA and data he gave in good faith. 

        Grayson was never cold or callous, not a killer the way his father wanted him to be. But something changed in Grayson. Maybe it was getting nearly decapitated, breaking every bone in his body. Maybe it was all the people that died as collateral. Maybe it was his mom's death, you. 

        He hated knowing Dad would be proud when he said to Cecil with his new, broken, entirely wrong voice, "Kill him."

        Cecil expected anger. Expected Mark to choke him out or do something stupidly rash, but he stayed eerily calm. "You know I can't do that, kid."

        Grayson leveled him with a cold, blue-eyed stare. Cecil had never seen that look on his face, never wanted to again. "Do it or I will."

        ***

        After the attack, Phantom's neck was in a thick metal brace for weeks. He couldn't move most of his body, couldn't speak. Despite their extensive testing of Viltrumite DNA and its healing compounds, the doctors were unsure his vocal cords would ever re-string. They did their best putting him back together, but it wasn't right. His voice was forever stretched and scratchy after the incident, much like his mind. 

        The muscles in his neck stiffly groaned as he lifted his head to look at you, you, you, alive, alive, alive. Framed in what little light curved into his tomb. You were heaving with anger at the very sight of him- but you were breathing. Eyes shining beadily with malice- but you were blinking. Teeth grinding in your snarl- but you were moving. Alive. You were still alive. He'd been so worried. 

        Gray had brought him water, scraps of food. Never enough to satisfy, but enough for his body to work with the accelerator. If there had been enough water in his system, he'd be crying at the sight of you. But there wasn't, so he dryly heaved with cracked, wobbly lips. Words tumbled out his throat, feeling and sounding like broken glass, "You're okay."

        "Okay?" You said, brain still catching up like the past few minutes hadn't happened. "Okay!?"

        The isolation, the paranoia, the broken leg, the death, the dick sucked out of desperation and need just to be in front of Phantom. Here he was, served up on a silver platter. Smiling up at you despite his bloodless face and missing limbs. Woozy with pain and acute dehydration, but somehow his eyes gleamed like he'd won. Like he had also wanted to be in front of you- no matter the situation.

        You kicked him in the stomach, doing nothing but send a jolt of pain up your once broken leg. You reeled back, hissing.

        "Called Invincible for a reason." Mohawk said unhelpfully behind you. Truthfully, you'd forgotten he was there. When you saw Phantom the whole world fell away, the same for him. 

        But he could ignore Mohawk even if he was talking. He'd been blocking out Scars and Lensless's presence for weeks. Only really aware of them when they pulled the meat off his bones. Your kick felt like nothing, but the brief contact, even through your boot was precious. He replayed the moment over and over, hoped for another because it was better than weeks of nothing- worrying that mentally unstable freak had hurt you.

        "It's okay, I understand." He said because something, he didn't know what, had hurt you, because, "I wasn't fast enough. I'm sorry."

        You kicked him with your other foot and got the same reaction. A smile because you touched him. He'd prefer a hug, a few sobbing kisses but he could take this for now- it was better than you dead.

        "He almost killed me!" Your brain rewound the tape and played it at hyper-speed. When it was done and you were freshly re-traumatized, the tape played again. "He went crazy! You knew he would!" Mark was right. You had told him to stop talking about Phantom, how he'd betrayed you both but you could feel it in your gut, Mark was right. "You fucking knew!"

        You kicked him again because you wanted him to hurt and you wanted it to be from you, but the only person you were hurting was yourself. 

        A hand came to your shoulder. Gray. "Stop. You'll hurt yourself."

        You shoved at him. "Don't fucking touch me!"

        He hovered back, a notch in his brow. He thought this was what you wanted, so why were you crying? Why were you so angry?

        Phantom needed your attention back on him. He'd gone longer without water than he had without you, but he needed more of your attention than he needed to breathe.

        "You shouldn't of had to deal with that." His words are slow, labored. Some part of him knew he shouldn't say it, that it'd ruin his chances with you, but the part of him that thought about such things had shriveled with torture and food deprivation. "I would've-" His throat spasmed, he swallowed the pain, "I would've done it for you before things got that bad."

        You called Mark crazy. You couldn't believe you called Mark crazy when Phantom existed. 

        You balled your fists, feel acid in your stomach. You wanted him dead as badly as you needed to breathe. You could only give him an appropriate death if you knew the full scope of things, if your fears, his fears, were confirmed. "What was your plan?"

        The rambling began in broken, shambling sentences. Unrelated at first, but slowly inching together as his voice started to blip and crack out. His twisted ideas just kept going and going like tied rags out of a magician's mouth. He wanted Mark to go crazy. Wanted Mark to ruin things. Was going to listen in and swoop in like Seance Dog in the nick of time. Let you lean on his shoulder to cry on. Be your one and only rock. Live in the dark together forever, where he could always keep you safe. Where nobody could ever hurt you again. Not like Dad had. Not like Scars and Lensless had.

        Then you made him tell you what went wrong. Everything that could've backfired did. It should've been more satisfying hearing his comeuppance, but you weren't there to enact it. To see it. To order it. To watch his eyes glaze over with agony, whereas now they were riverbed stones. If he died right now, he'd die happy.

        "You're fucking crazy." Not Mark. But he was Mark. They were all Mark. "It wouldn't have worked. He was onto you. I would've known. I would've hated you." You played out the fantasy. You and Mark killing him. You eating his body instead of your precious bug family that was now all gone. He would've felt less paranoid, would've let you dig a way into the sun so he could heal. But it hadn't happened that way. "I would've never loved you." You said it like it'd ward it away. Like it'd erase the fact that could have been your reality if he played his cards right. You hadn't suspected him at all, defended him, now look at you.

        Phantom had the audacity to shake his head, "We would've been happy."

        He didn't say it, but he knew how much trauma could remold a person. In the wake of Mark's death, he would've remolded you. Pressed in his thumbs and left the indent of his fingerprints forever on your soul. His version of the story would solidify with every passing moment. You would have loved him.

        You turned to Mohawk who'd been watching your back with baited breath. "Hit him." 

        Your control was more a gentle push to his back than anything. You hadn't needed to tell him, he already wanted the rat dead.        

        He lunged forward, grabbed him by the beard, yanked him forward and slammed his head back into the wall. Crack. Again. Crack. Again. Crack! Despite everything, Phantom was still smiling. This was nothing compared to the torture he'd gone through. Mohawk needed to go harder, break him through the wall, rip him in half, skull to taint. 

        It wasn't that Mohawk didn't want to protect you in a similar way. Or that Phantom wanted you to himself, because Mohawk did too. It was that the weakest in the pack thought he had any claim on you. That he almost got you killed again and left you with that other freak. That he led you into his arms and not Mohawk's instead.

        He reeled his foot back to punt him through the rock. Gray grabbed his shin. "We're being too loud."

        Mohawk turned to bark at him but you beat him to it. "Fuck being too loud! They're weak! Let them find us."

        You were out for blood. Scars and Lensless initiated the cave collapse. They weren't as much to blame but you needed more blood on your hands than Phantom had in his body.

        God, Mohawk could drool at how hot you were right now. 

        "I agree," Gray said, "They are likely weakened by now, but don't you want to savor killing him? They'll get in the way."

        Viltrumites killed efficiently, without feeling, though plenty of them, like his mentor, enjoyed it very much. Gray enjoyed a hard fought battle, didn't mind blood on his hands. He understood blood lust. Though he didn't feel it, he wanted you to feel that passion his mentor had to the fullest. Isn't that what you'd want?

        Mohawk yanked his leg from Gray's grip. "I'll kill 'em before they can."

        Gray kept his annoyance in check. How on Earth was Mohawk Emperor of anything with such little decorum?

        "Noted." He turned to you, "I need answers first."

        You frowned at him, tone dangerous, "What could you possibly need from him?"

        Gray stepped forward, standing by your side now instead of some guard dog goon. He looked down at Phantom, who only had puppy eyes for you. He honestly thought Phantom's plan wasn't a bad one. It was smart to expose an enemy's weakness, smart to get you away from danger, to use both of those things to his advantage. He could almost respect him, but he wouldn't tell you that. 

        Since obtaining Phantom, Gray had returned to Scars and Lensless residence. Maybe to kill them, maybe just to see what they were up to- he didn't know. He found rubble. Couldn't find them in the wastes. 

        "Where did they go during the day?" He asked both Phantom and Mohawk. Both of them didn't know, only one of them would answer. You had to use your powers on Phantom, which in his weak, blissed out state was easy. Phantom was unconscious most of the time. Mohawk was scared to not have something to hide behind. 

        "Did they ever speak of any other hideouts?"

        Again you had to step in. Control going around his soft brain like a fist holding jello. Phantom didn't know. They were gone in the wind. Gray doesn't like not knowing where they are. 

        Gray is pulled out of his thoughts by your voice, "You done?" 

        He stepped back in quiet confirmation. 

        He watched the way you stared at Phantom. Could almost hear your gears turning, wondering what would be the best punishment for his crimes. 

        He stared back. Lips moving but no sound came out. You knew you shouldn't help him, but a morbid part of you wanted to hear what he had to say.

        "Gray." It's all you have to say for the man to move in, hold Phantom's jaw, and pour water from a basin down his throat. Most of it dribbled wasted down his chin. 

        Gray settled behind you as you watched Phantom's throat work. You waited, waited. Until.

        "I accept whatever comes next, and I forgive you." He says, not meaning it. He wanted to live, to be with you, he didn't want to die here, but the only way to live was to appeal to your human nature. The one he knew you had because his version of you did.

        In his haze, he forgot how different you were. 

        Wasn't expecting red rage to cross your face. "Mohawk. Kill him."

        Mohawk was in front of him. Fist pumped back, ready to piston forward and put a hole in his head. It'd be quicker than he deserved. That's why Gray stopped him. Stood in front of Phantom, Mohawk's fist in his hands. Muscles straining to keep Mohawk from landing the blow.

       "What are you doing?" You snarled, head pulsing as Mohawk tried to push through Gray's grip. 

        "You'll regret doing it this way," Gray said. 

        Seconds ago, you were thinking torture, now you just wanted him dead. For all of this to be over. No more Jesus-y 'I forgive thee, Judas' bullshit.

        "No, I won't. Move." Your focus is like a shove to the brain, teeters him off balance. His heels gave, sliding back and pressing into Phantom's leg.

        "Mark suffered for years in prison, correct?"

        "I don't care. Move." Another shove. You were stronger when you were mad. He tucked that information under 'problems for another day'.

        "He effectively put Mark in prison again. Don't you want him to suffer the same?" Gray did not revel in pain but he knew you did to an extent. You needed Phantom's pain like you needed codeine to feel better. Good for awhile, then best if it was gone.

         Gray was right. He should-

        "I should suffer." Phantom's voice scratched out, "It's my fault you got hurt. I'm so sorry, (Y/n)."

        Hearing those words was like a fist to the chest, grabbing at your heart. You just wanted this to be over. Just wanted him dead so there'd be no more genuine platitudes from him. His sympathy burned like acid.

        "Kill him." You said hoarsely, "Just kill him."

        "Sorry dude," Mohawk jerked his head back to deliver a blow to Gray, intending to knock him out. Gray regretted having to use such desperate actions, but he believed this was for the best. His knee came up to Mohawk's crotch. Mohawk crumpled, groaning before a blow to both his ears knocked him out entirely. Gray caught him before he hit the ground. 

        You bared your teeth. "What are you doing!?"

        "Helping." Gray lifted a limp Mohawk onto his shoulder. 

        "No you're-" You were off the ground, held to Gray's chest with his free arm. One of his legs kicked back, delivering a heel to Phantom's jaw and sending him easy into unconsciousness. "Hey!" 

        Gray floated out of the makeshift prison. "You need time to think."

        "Put me down!" The strongest shove yet, his grip loosened before he came back to himself. Seeing the flash of terror on your face at the idea of being dropped mid-flight again. Still, you fought. Beat useless fists against his chest, "I don't need to think, he needs to die!" But the more you fought him, the more your anger and wrath flared, the more he knew he was right. 

        ***

        "It's cold, come sit." Markus lifted his cape for you to perch under. You didn't look at him. Don't look at anybody as you paced in circles, feeling like a caged lion. The bitter night bit at your skin but you didn't care. You couldn't look at any of their faces without seeing Phantom, Mark, Gray. Feeling sad and angry all over again.

        Gray shifted up from his seat. Far from a very awake, very pissed off Mohawk, who was considering if he should fuck this whole alliance bullshit and take you for himself.

        "I'll go." Gray said.

        You spun on your heels, catching the back of his stupid skirt before he left through one of the many exits. "Don't pull that kicked puppy shit!"

        He paused. "Kicked puppy what?" He was still very unused to human turns of phrase. 

        "Shut up and get back in here." You snapped. He hovered back inside, confused. "Said it yourself big guy, desert's too dangerous to violently kill a guy in, gotta be waaay too dangerous to be flying around at night- right?"

        "I thought this was what you wanted." He said it softly, meaning more than just him leaving. Wondering where he went wrong, why you hadn't kissed him with those pretty lips in thanks when you had asked him for this.

        Your jaw flexed, unflexed. Because you did want this, but now that Phantom was within reach, weak, killable, it was a whole other story. The worst part was you didn't even get the satisfaction of him being scared to see you again, to see him crying while he confessed. He wasn't sorry, not really, he was sorry he got caught, sorry he was an amputee. You don't know how to feel or what to say and the longer Gray looked at you with those sad puppy dog eyes the more muddled your feelings got.

        So you leaned into instinct, snapping, "Whatever."

        You let go of him and went to the darkest, most isolated corner of the camp. The corner Gray had shoved the bag of Mark. Now two-thirds full, he'd been rationed well. You sat against the sack, not feeling any of Mark's warmth. Feeling only a stiff hardness poking into you in pieces where you were used to a solid mass. It wasn't enough to sit beside it. Soon you were half sitting on it, hugging it, sniffing it, crying quietly into the rough fabric. It felt and smelled nothing like Mark but it was him.

        "Are you alright?" Markus.

        "Go away."

        You heard his boots come down behind you. His suit groaned as he sat, one shoulder pressed to your back. You clutched the bag tighter, finding a stick of dead meat to hold onto through it. Not a hand pulsing warm with blood. You pressed your face into it, let the tears soak through. Markus said nothing as you worked through a knee-deep muck of emotions. He just silently rubbed your lower back in slow circles. The touch real, living, grounding through your tank top.

        He was there for you, even if you didn't want him to be. Had been the whole time you were stuck here. Just waiting for you to reach out, offering comfort you needed but wouldn't take.

        You say it without thinking, "I don't know why I'm always so mean to you."

        Because he'd been kind, charitable, annoyingly uptight, and dad-ish, but not a bad guy. You'd pushed him away at every turn or pulled him in just to try and use him. He knew it, let it happen, and kept crawling back to you anyway. The way you wished Mark had after Machine Head. The gentle comfortableness he represented scared you, threw you and your assassin persona off balance. You always felt like the other shoe was going to drop. Waiting for him to accept you weren't his darling wife and finally leave you alone. But he never did.

        Arms snaked around your middle. Gently goading you off the meat sack, turning you away from it and its garish body. You let him, turning into his chest as he pulled you onto his lap.

        "I know." His voice rumbled in his chest. "It's okay." There was no resentment in his voice. No Mark-ish disdain for what a shitty person you were. You fisted the material of his suit, pressing your face into him, listening to his heartbeat, breathing in the smell of stale sweat. Gross but alive. 

        Why were you holding onto Mark when he hurt you? When Markus was alive and right here and had only been kind of a douchebag who never apologized for being a douchebag. You had been worse, had never apologized for being such a flippant ass. "I'm sorry." 

        The circling hand came again to your back. "I just want you to be okay." His other hand came up to cradle your head, rubbing his thumb into your (hair/scalp).

        You gritted your teeth, trying not to sob like a baby into him. Nobody had cared for you like this in so long. No expectations, no paranoia. You shuddered at the smokey smell still in your nose, "I don't think I can ever be okay out here." 

        "I know." He says again, slowly rocking you both back and forth now. Lulling you into calm with his husky voice and warm touch. "I'm sorry I can't make it better."

        You laugh, because it was such an odd thing to say, "You do." Your walls completely crumbled around you.

        Markus smiled into your forehead as he kissed it. 

        ***

        You slept in his arms for the first time in over a week. You were an unmoving rock while he stayed awake. Hyper aware of your breathing, your weight on his legs. Markus didn't sleep much before the desert, slept less now. Exhaustion always nipping at his heels but it didn't matter how tired he was. As long as you were safe.

        Eventually, the dream was over. You woke up, dazed and confused, slow and sweet with lingering sleep. He savored the unguarded look on your face before the shield fell back down. You excused yourself off his lap, muttering an apology for falling asleep.

        "No apology necessary." He said as he watched you walk away. Feeling airy with affection.

        Crying and sleep had shaken off some of the anger. You knew you needed to fix things before it returned in a violent wave, the way it always did. You walked up to Gray who was silently assessing the damage of the storage box that'd collapsed in the night again. He could've fixed it by now but he always waited for you to help- even if, "I was an asshole yesterday."

        He said nothing but kneeled down to hold up two of the sides at a corner. You bent down and found the spike of metal you'd used to slot one side in with the other. You picked it up, continuing, "I appreciate what you did." You slide the piece in. "A lot. I uhm-" God, why was being accountable for your emotions so hard? Oh yeah, you repressed them so you wouldn't speak out of turn and be murdered by Machine Head! "I get why you brought him instead of bringing me to the crazy person jailhouse."

        The metal slid home. Gray moved his hands, testing to see if the sides would hold. They did but bowed out awkwardly. He plucked a piece of aluminum from the storage and worked it around the corner as a reinforcement.

        "You gonna talk to me?"

        Gray blinked. "I didn't want to speak over you." 

        "Oh." You laugh awkwardly. "Right, yeah." You grabbed some slips of metal and held the aluminum to the wall while Gray hammered the spikes in to keep it there. 

        He didn't speak while he worked. Trying hard to gather up his emotions. He was severely disappointed by your reaction last night, but it should've been par for the course. Mother was always surprising Father with her strange human outbursts and social customs. Still, despite being raised by a human, he understood little of their emotions. In truth, he'd always spent more time with Father. Was always off training or on a mission around other Viltrumites, too long to truly understand his mother's human tendencies.

        He didn't know what would be the right thing to say so he could only hope what came out of his mouth wouldn't push you away. "I want him dead, but I think if it's too fast, you'll regret it."

        You frowned as the wall stood sturdier.

        "The more he talks, the worse things get for me." You said quietly, hoping the others wouldn't hear as they went about their morning business, but they do. There was no real privacy in here, not that it mattered but it was still embarrassing. Bearing your heart to everyone at once.

        "Gag him." Together you move to the next corner and repeat the process.

        "Won't he bite through it? Strong jaw?"

        "Tell him not to. He's weak, he'll obey." 

        You punch the side of his knee, which confused him greatly. "I get it, you're super strong and hard to control, he's not." You smiled but your eyes were misty. Gray was even more confused. "I just don't get why he did it. I didn't have a problem with him. We could've been friends, ya'know?"

        Gray doesn't 'ya'know'. Gray always thought there was something off-kilter about Phantom. He'd made this mistake of ignoring him in lieu of paying attention to Scars and Lensless. 

        "But what I really don't understand is why Mark? Like, if you were going to make me hate someone else, why Mark? He was so sweet and fucked up yeah but-" You looked at the wall, blinking back tears. Remembering the snap inside your leg. The pain, the terror. "Out of all the people he had to ruin for me, it had to be him." Nowhere near innocent, but the closest to it. You'd burn the fucking world down too if you went though shit like that.

        "You didn't trust him." Gray used the flat of his hand to sink metal into the wall. "He chose someone you trusted to get close to you." And now Mark's dead and dinner.

        You bit your cheek. "I want to hurt him so bad but I don't know how." The tears are heavy on your lids now. "I want to kill him so bad it hurts, but you're right." You turn back to him as they fall, "If I don't make him suffer, I'm failing Mark."

        Gray didn't think. Just reached forward and cupped your cheek, thumb wiping the tear away. The others watched, shoulders locked and loaded. On one hand, there was jealousy. On the other, they knew if they ruined this moment, you'd be angry, their standing with you would wither.

        "More amputation is possible." Gray said soft, caressing your face, "I've enough agent fourteen to keep him going awhile."

        "No." You reach up and grab his wrist, needing to feel a body, "Don't waste anymore on him." 

        Gray smiled, hoping you'd say that. He had many more options, "Viltrumites can withstand partial gutting."

        "Really?" Your eyes gleamed, your hand tightening around his wrist and he felt a stir in his cock. He really needed to get that reaction under control. 

        "Are you serious?" His voice made you both stiffen. Maskless didn't move from his seat on a low rock. Eyeing you both like you were garbage. 

        "Got a suggestion?" You snapped as Gray shifted next to you, looking like a puma about to pounce. 

        Maskless's face twitched. "He loves you." He hissed, "No matter what you do to him, he's going to love you." The words come out like a curse. "Just kill him already. He'd gone through enough."

        "Enough?" You barked out a laugh. "He ruined-"

        "His plan backfired, sure, but he did it for you. Can't you see that? Or are you too self-centered to realize everything he's done out here was for your own good?" 

        Seb lifted his head from the hammock hung in the corner. "Whoa dude, that's like a crazy fucking thing to say."

        "It's not!" Maskless lifted his arms, "I would've done the same thing!" For William. Anything, everything for William. Who he didn't even get to see again. This was all for nothing.

        "You'd die for it too," Gray said.

        Maskless's muscles tighten but he stayed put. "I'm just saying. Guy's suffered enough with how much you fuck around."

        Seb's jaw dropped, "Jesus Dude! That's not cool!" He felt a little hurt, considering how he'd told Maskless extensively about his laundry list of flings. Had his friend been judging him the whole time?

        Markus crossed the room, "You're being childish."

        "Me childish?" Maskless huffed. "Look at yourself." Markus was unbothered. Anything Maskless could say about him, he'd already gone through a thousand times worse. "I can't stand you people."

        Yet he made no move to leave. If he left now, he'd be out. Easy pickings. The next meal.

        You stood, the storage box mostly fixed. Gray immediately grieves the loss of your touch.

        "You know what? Just cuz you said that?" You turn to, "Mohawk, wanna hit something?"

        Mohawk was already up and on his feet. Long since stewing in angst seeing you snuggle up with Markus and get all close with Gray. Plans tumbling around his head on how to be the last one standing. All that fell to the wayside with your attention. "Yes, ma'am."

        You locked eyes with Maskless as Mohawk hauled you into his arms. 

        ***

        You didn't let Mohawk get the first lick. You knew you couldn't hurt Phantom but seeing him light up when you walked in made you sick. You stooped down, hovering where his left leg would be if he had it anymore. "I fucking hate you."

        "I understand." Phantom could live with you thinking that. As long as he lived, he had time to prove you wrong. To prove he was right in doing what he did. Those people were animals. 

        You scowled before your fist cracked into his cheek. Pain shot electric up your forearm. You pulled your fist back, finding blood on his cheek that wasn't his. Your knuckles had busted open.

        "Fuck's-" You reeled your head back, knowing it was a bad idea but needing to get across to Phantom you'd hurt yourself just for the chance to hurt him, "-sake!" Foreheads collided. You saw stars as you fell back on your ass. Violently dizzy, head throbbing, warmth trickling down your forehead and around your nose. 

        "Shit!" Mohawk steadied you before you fell further back. "You okay, babe?"

        You didn't look at him. Just at Phantom who brought his hand to his cheek, feeling the warmth of your blood under his remaining fingers. Fingers that could still move. "Break his hand."

        Mohawk smiled and lifted his brows, "No powers on me? Ya think I'm that whipped?"

        "Do you want me to tell you what to do?" 

        He pretended to weigh the idea. "Ehhh."

        You raise a brow, "Do I need to get someone else or-" He moved so fast he nearly sent you sideways. A sickening crack-ack-ack-ack-ack filled the room followed by Phantom's broken gasping. 

        Mohawk grinned as Phantom's face contorted. "Good enough for you?"

        You watched as Phantom tried to move his hand. Now a too-squished together mess of red and purpling bruises, fingers twisted in all the wrong ways. The sight made you happy.

        "You seem awfully proud of yourself for only doing that one lil thing. Why not hit himmmmm-" You pointed, finger circling until you decided, "there." Right where his kidney would be.

        "Yes, ma'am!" His fist landed in the same spot. Causing Phantom to double over, groaning.

        It became a game from there. You spinning your finger, seeing where it landed, Mohawk hitting or breaking something like a good guard dog should. Together, you were splatter artists. Canvas Phantom's pale exposed skin, painted with green and purple bruises. Blood dribbling out of his lips to add a little more color.

        The more he hurt. The happier you were. Almost electrified by Mohawk's cruelty. You shared jokes at Phantom's expense back and forth. Getting meaner and louder the longer it went on. 

        Eventually, Phantom stopped groaning. "Shit, is he dead?" You rocked forward on your heels.

        "Nah," Mohawk cracked his bloodied knuckles, "I can still hear 'im breathing, he's just knocked out."

        You huffed as your high started to wane. You were having so much fun, now it was over. "I thought he'd last longer."

        Mohawk flopped next to you, "He'll be fine."

        You were quiet awhile, watching Phantom's bruised chest slowly rise and fall. Getting some lingering thrill out of seeing the pain you'd helped cause. 

        It was Mohawk who broke the silence. "You know... You're pretty hot when you're mad."

        You take it as a joke. Unable to image yourself as sexy, not with the sweat and the half-congealed blood that'd run from your forehead to your chin. "Yeah right."

        His hand came to your chin, pulling you to face him and his hard-set expression. "I mean it." His eyes dropped as his thumb spread the blood across your skin. "Fuuuuck." He didn't think, just leaned forward and dragged his tongue from your jaw to your cheek. Sending shivers as his hot mouth passed your lips. 

        "That's nasty." You hissed at him as he pulled back, not far, just enough to admire the look on your face. Flushed but not angry, not hating it. You must feel it to, the pull that started in his gut and went straight to his cock. 

        His gloved fingers gently squeeze your jaw, "Could tell me to stop." 

        "Your stupid ass wouldn't listen."

        "Not unless you made me, which you totally aren't right now."

        You glared. "You're annoying as fuck you know that?"

        He grins. "You like it. You like when I push.” He could feel himself getting harder the longer you looked at him like that. Could feel his blood boil, body start to coil. He could hear your heart racing, apexing from its earlier plateau. You wanted it but played so coy.

       “If you keep pushing, I’ll hurt you.”

        “Yeah baby?” His voice was low, gloved finger swiping along your bottom lip. He was right, you could push him away, say the word and have him across the cave. 

       You shivered, “I’m serious.” 

        He hums, distracted by the way you were leaning into him, the way your voice shook. 

        "If you ever do what he did to me, I'll make you hurt yourself so bad you'll shit blood." You hissed, breath on his lips, getting closer now.

        "God, you're hot."

        Heated lips rushed forward, overcoming yours in a fast flash of spitty kissing and lip biting. Piercings shove into your chin, coolly scrape against your lips as you both move, growling into the kiss. He climbed on top of you, holding your jaw in place while you tugged hard at his mohawk. Less kissing more trying to eat each other alive at the mouth. Violence's pull overtook you again. You needed more blood, more pain, so you bit the inside of his lip as hard as you could trying to make him bleed.

        He groaned, "God you're such a-" You shut him up by shoving your tongue into his mouth. He accepted it greedily. His hands left your chin, you expected them to go to your pants but instead he's zipping his suit down. Exposing sweat-slicked muscle, pierced nipples and collarbones. He grabbed your wrist and forced it to a peck. Fingers splayed around a nipple.

        "Come on," he murmured into your mouth when your fingers didn't move, "touch me."

        That move was... unexpectedly desperate. You thought he'd be a little more Seb-y, confident and cocky, but the little jerk just wanted some attention. Fine. You could do something for the work he'd done on Phantom. 

        Your knuckles pinched around his peaked nipple. Rolling and twisting the flesh, making him pant into your mouth.

        "Fuck," his hips bucked into the air, "yes," he shuddered when you started toying with the bar, "yes."

       Mohawk shuffled around your kiss and tangled bodies. Hastily shucking off his suit from the shoulders down. Exposing more of his skin. Nude from the waist up, hard-on trapped in the blue of his suit.

        "More." He growled into your lips. "Fuck, I need you." He pressed your head down, kissing you, pressing the back of your skull to the ground like he was trying to eat your face.

        You let it happen. Lost yourself in the heat. Hands full of his pecs, twisting and squeezing. His hands were everywhere. Groping your sides and hips. Recalling the memory of your body under him. You still felt the same. He needed more.

        You didn't feel a chill as he ripped the tank top up and over your head, falling to the wayside. Desert heat pressed into your skin, but not as hot as his lathed tongue over your nipple. Sucking and nipping before you could object. You were gasping before a single word of protest could pass your lips. He knew just how to pull those sounds he missed out of you. He'd waited long enough. Had endless wet dreams about touching you again. He needed to hear everything, feel everything.

        You were arching into him. Hands gripping his shoulders the way you used to before you fucking betrayed him. You squeaked as he bit your nipple, drew blood in his flash of anger. He made it better, sucking it up as he held your hips. Grinding your clothed heats together. Needing that pre-fuck friction. Watching how your mouth fell open and eyes rolled back so slutty before he'd even gotten to the real thing.

        "Fuck," his mouth came away from your breast, connected by a trail of spit, "fuck, I missed you." Your lips met again. He was in a better position to grind into you, so he did, rough, fingers bruising your sides. But that was fine, you needed some pain after inflicting so much.        

        You felt the heat of his hand slip under your pants, under your boxers. Thick fingers slipped down your slick. He shook, coating his fingertips. "God." He sounded close to tears. 

        You weren't one for emotional intelligence during sex but you had to ask, "Are you-"

        His mouth moved to your neck, pressing lips and teeth to your skin, "Can I finger you? Please say I can finger you."

        You weren't going to turn that down. "Go right ah-hhhhheeeeeeeeeehd." 

        You melted, as two fingers were forced into your slippery cunt. No foreplay preamble, just all the way to the knuckles. Pumping in and out, slapping his palm against you from the get go. He watched you writhe like you were a live art show. Watching you moan and gasp made him want to cry. He couldn't believe he killed you. Couldn't believe he'd missed this for so long.

        He was so in his head he didn't realize you were close until you were cumming on his fingers. Moan echoing rough in the cavern. He snaps back to himself, muttering a, "Good job, good girl, yes baby," as he milks your cunt into submission. You go slack and soft against the floor but he's not done. Nowhere near. Your pants and boots are thrown away before you can blink. He's over you watching your face, moaning as he sucks your taste off his fingers. You can't say anything before he's spreading your thighs, his lips coming down on your cunt with a muffled, "Need this."

         His fingers are back inside you, his tongue pressing harshly into your clit. He nearly cums when you pull at his hair, shrieking, kicking at his back like the nasty bitch you were. 

        You cum again, heels dug into his shoulder blades. His fingers leave purple-ish impressions on the insides of your thighs, he wanted to bite them, to make them a permanent part of your body. Instead he lunged forward as soon as orgasm subsided, kissing you, mixing your spit and juices with his like you always used to. Your hands scratch at his back, make him mewl much less domineeringly into you than he'd like, "Can I fuck you? Please, please can I fuck you?"

        "Just do it alr-" A gust of wind slaps your heated skin as he throws off the rest of his suit. Jumping back on you, cock sprung free. Piercings glinting up and down the bottom of his head and shaft as he started to desperately rub himself against the outside of your core, murmuring praises. Tiny balls of metal catch and roll past your entrance, making you gasp. It's too much, too hot, he can't do this foreplay bullshit anymore. Without warning, he realigns and fills you to the hilt. You go stiff, suddenly achingly, deliciously full, eyes rolled all the way back, a slut possessed. 

        Mohawk doesn't think of your body needing to adjust, he just moves. Not slow, not steady, but snapping. Making your skin harshly slap together, making your tits bounce. Forcing himself in and out of the tight, twitching hole made just for him. Thumb rubbing rough circles on your clit as he pounded into you. Battering your g-spot, bruising your walls.

        Beneath him you are wild. Nearly shrieking and drooling. Whatever you can grab onto him, you do, nails digging in. Gasping, "Fuck- yes-" in the few moments he allowed you to breathe before punching the air out of your lungs. It wasn't enough that his balls were slapped against your ass, he needed to be deeper. 

        Mohawk forced your hips up, shoved your thighs close to your shoulders. Growling as he forced that extra inch of himself inside that much deeper. Cockhead kissing your cervix.

        He growled, rough and uneven as he sped up, "Fuck you used to love this, tell me you love it."

        You can't tell him anything, because with three thrusts in this position you were cumming again. Massaging his cock, coaxing it to fill with cum but he withholds, needing this moment to go on forever. He swallows and slows a few seconds just to last a little longer.

      Phantom isn't aware he's awake. For awhile he thinks he's in a dream. That same one he always had, dad beating him into the side of that mountain. Feeling the cold air on the insides of his throat. Except he's hot and dad's not yelling about what's going to happen in five hundred years. Someone is yelling- screaming. 

        His eyes are swollen mostly shut but he can see- even if it's blurry with his fractured cornea. He isn't sure what he's seeing first. Two jerking blobs. One lean atop the other that is oddly shaped like you. A memory, stirring and distant, tells him that's something you tried together one time. But it was so intense he couldn't handle it long. Ended up cumming inside you and dealing with a pregnancy scare.

        But that's not- No- You wouldn't be doing that here?

        "Mmm-mmmphh-mm!" It sounded so real, your moans.

        "Come on, baby- you can still talk, can't you? Say it." And that wasn't his voice- but it was- whole and unbroken, raspy with sex.

        "Mmm-mm-Mark!"

        He blinked, once, twice. Mind coming to him all at once. This wasn't a dream or a hallucination or a delusion because in his world, in throws of passion you called him Grayson. He only ever imagined it as such. 

        "Fuuuck!" That growling voice, he recognized it at the one that taunted him as he cracked his ribs with a kick. That slap, slap, slap was real. Along with your cried, "I'm gonna-"

        "That's it- Good girl cum on my cock- come on- yeeaahhh- good fucking job." 

        Phantom watched as your bodies moved. Mohawk so much faster and stronger, using yours while you let him. Taking it all with a sick, fucked-out grin. He remembers every snap of bone and peel of flesh from his body. Remembers what it felt like to lose his arm then leg, pieces of him gone forever. But this was worse.         

        "Oh fuck- fuck!" Mohawk threw his head back, announcing to the world, "I'm gonna fucking-!"

        Phantom watched as his body stuttered. As Mohawk forced himself into you two more times before stopping, crying out, filling you with seed that wouldn't take. You both lay there a moment, panting, glowing with sweat. The scent of sex burned Phantom's nose. Worse than the smell of his body as his wounds festered for days. 

        "Holy shit," Mohawk said. "I can't believe I get to cum in you. That's fucking awesome."

        He was joking but his eyes are full of tears because you don't just feel the same- you felt better than he remembered. He was trying not to think about the feeling of your guts bursting in between his fingers, how it was the last time he felt you before this. 

        You scoffed, hitting his arm as you moved out from under him. Hands searching for your clothes. "Don't be gross."

        "Me gross?" Mohawk took your hand, stopping you from grabbing your shirt, he wanted to revel in this, to make up for what he did to you. "You just came like a gazillion times, babe, don't you wanna chill out a bit maybbeee cuddle?"

        You stare up at him slack-jawed, his cum leaking between your legs. "You wanna cuddle?"

        Mohawk dove down to lay his head between your breasts. "Yeah." He nuzzled his growing-out side shave into your chest.

        Phantom felt sick. He had never wanted to kill somebody more than his father, but there Mohawk was. Happy and content and having just fucked you into agreeing to cuddle. He was broken in every way but he wouldn't accept this. He moves slow, choppy but eventually he is hovering centimeters above the ground. Broken fist twitching.

        You catch the movement, look at him horrified like you hadn't just done what you did. "Holy shit?"

        Mohawk looked lazily up. Eyes going wide.

        "Fuck!" He moved faster than Phantom could process. Shoved a fist into his chest, shoved him back to sitting. He didn't have the strength to get back up, even as Mohawk stood over him. Victorious with your juices still wet on his dick. "You scared the shit outta me, dude."

        Phantom's muscles contracted useless under his torn suit. Mohawk needed to die, now. But he couldn't move again. Body broken. Defeated like he'd been all those years ago. 

        You scrambled to get dressed. Unbelieving that you forgot that he was there, forgot where you were. Mohawk turned to you, watching your ass bounce as you hopped into the pants.

        "Aw, come on babe, don't be embarrassed, you're hot." He turned to Phantom, grinning sly as a fox, "You see any of that shit, bro? Hot as fuck, am I right?"

        He hated him. He needed to die.

        "Stop taunting him and get dressed," Mohawk caught his suit as you threw it at him, "you dickhead." Your words have no venom, it'd been fucked out of you. 

        "Yes, ma'am."

        You catch Phantom's bleary eye then. Shining purple with bruise and something deeper. Darker. A chasm that opened in the blue of his pupil and the blood staining his white. There was a promise there, burning quietly into your naked skin you rushed to cover up. Still, you felt the sear. A promise, a brand painful as it was for him to see you fucking Mohawk so happily. 

        Your grin is shaky with exhaust and unease. You don't know why you have such a hollow pit in your stomach when you should be feeling on top of the world, because you finally found a way for him to hate you. That's what you think that look is- hate- defeat. It's not but you don't know that so you regather yourself. Spit at him, "Still forgive me now?"

        His voice is far outside himself when he says in a haze, "Yes." 

        You don't believe him. 

        You leave with Mohawk. Glowing with orgasm, hand lazily squeezing Mohawk's ass as he picks you up. You are embarrassed but gleeful because you think you finally found a way to make Phantom hate you. And you were going to let him stew it in for days before you visit him again. It was fucked up yeah, but just the cruelty he deserved.

        Phantom thinks you need to be restrained. Thinks you need to be away from Mohawk and put under control. His anger is a swirling mess in his chest but no darling, he didn't love you any less. Because he was still alive to fix things and he would. In the end, you wouldn't miss the others, you'd weep into his arms about how sorry you were for how you acted today. He'd kiss the tears away and make you feel so good you forgot what it was to fuck another man. You wouldn't even remember what you were sorry for. Wouldn't remember the rest after he killed them all.

        ***

        They all heard. Gray almost left to save you but Seb and Markus stopped him. Having to regrettably explain you were getting fucked within an inch of your life. Both wishing it was them. Both jealous. Markus was pissed beyond belief. Gray was very confused why you were doing it near the prisoner- some human disrespect custom perhaps? Either way- he wished it was him.

        You were both in the doghouse when you returned. Everyone was mad- more so at Mohawk who Markus thought of pummeling on sight. Markus pointedly had nothing to say to you.

        You forced away guilt by taunting Maskless, "Well, he definitely doesn't love me anymore."

        Maskless bristled. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He doesn't care about who goes in and out of your legs, not really. He just saw William in your place- sees himself in Phantom in how far he'd go. It's not fair that you're playing the others like this. Not fair that you're not William and he jsut gets to watch as everyone fights tooth and nail over some numb bitch.

        "A little of this, a little of that, a little of he fucking ruined everything, remember?" 

        Maskless rose from his chair, "So he could keep you safe!"

        "I don't think he wants to do that anymore." You looked so smug, he needed to wipe that grin off your face.

        Mohawk was glued to your side, arm perpetually slung around your waist to the chagrin of the others. "Aww, babe, you're so cute when you act like an evil mastermind." He affectionately flicked your nose, "We both know you totally forgot he was there."

        You flushed, "Shut up!"

        Seb couldn't believe the messy shit he was hearing today. "For real, bro!?" He caught up to himself when Markus's glare, "Wait. You should like- stop talking."

        Mohawk nodded, uncaring, "She didn't remember he existed till after we were done. Wait, babe, how many times did you cum? Three? Four?"

        "Holy shit." Seb wishes he could talk to Mohawk about how good it felt to fuck you except he was pretty sure Mohawk would rip his head off. Maybe one day. But for now, he says, "Don't fuckin' say that right now dude." He watched Markus uneasily. Sure he's about to witness a murder.

        Maskless sneered, coming closer, fists twitching. "You're both disgusting."

        Markus only cared if, "Did she cry after?" Said to Mohawk because you needed to know how upset he was right now.

        "Plenty of whimpering while I fucked 'er but no tears. We'll get 'em next time." Mohawk squeezed your side. Markus looked murderous but part of him was relieved. No crying post sex meant you were healing. Soon you'd be ready to make real love to him again, untied to your rebellious phase. He'd make you forget Mohawk. Make you cry on his cock and kiss away your tears that tasted of victroy. 

        You whack Mohawk's side, "Shut up!"

        Mohawk snickered, "You love it."

        Maskless was ready to pummel you both. "Are you fucking-"

        Gray moved into the space between you two, crackling with tension. "We're almost out of water."

        Maskless paused, thrown off, "What does that have to do with anything?"

        Gray looked at him evenly, "As punishment for reckless behavior which could've gotten them both killed-"

        Mohawk scoffed, "His freak ass could barely move."

        Gray ignored him, "-I say you both, with me as chaperone," he added, eyeing, Markus who looked very unhappy at the idea of you being anywhere near Mohawk, "are in charge of getting more." He needed to make sure there were no more dalliances. No more pleasure of yours without him involved. Maybe if he went along and watched you and Mohawk flirt, he could get a better idea how to come onto you.

        It was agreed. 

        Markus and Maskless needed time to cool off without you two around anyway. Water was also important.

        You three leave as a party. Gray made a case to hold you as punishment for Mohawk, but Mohawk was too fast, flying ahead of him saying, "Last one to the cave dies a virgin!" He also 'forgot' the vases so Gray had to carry all of them.

        Mohawk annoyingly felt you up mid-flight while Gray cast chiding warnings about the dangers of distracted flying. All the while taking in how Mohawk pulled squeaks and gasps out your lips. Gray was certain he had room to be distracted. None of you had heard Scars or Lensless for some time now. Honestly, Gray thought they must have killed each other by now, with no trace of them in the desert for days. He half expected to see their bodies in the sand as they flew. 

        You reached the cave, now just a wide uneven hole in the middle of the desert. As you descended, you felt the air shift, going from hot to cool, dry to humid. Mohawk watched your face change from relaxed to tight. His feet touched down on the sand, the sun a spotlight on you both. "Don't worry, I got you."

        Gray hovered beside him, opening his mouth to provide his most human-friendly consolation, when he heard it- the snap of a cape on the move. He turned just in time to block Scars first punch.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

do you think jason’s reaction to batsis’ death + revival would be different if they were killed by the Joker with him? Like they’re a little younger and followed him into the Joker’s trap and when they came back, they came back together

SIS YOUR MIND ON THIS ONEEEEE

some points in my previous post and original headcanons still stands.

Ugh.. can you just imagine how heart wrenching it'd be for Jason. His little sister is so much like him. Just like he disobeyed Bruce, you disobeyed him. You followed him into this death trap and you know just how disgusting the Joker is.

He didn't realize that you had even followed after him. He thought he eventually got through your head and that you were safely at home, tucked into bed like he left you. It wasn't until Joker pulled you out, dangling by your feet that Jason regretted his actions. Why didn't this one time he listen to his dad?

Joker toys with Jason and tells him all the heinous things he'll do to you...but he'll let the girl-wonder go if Jason stays. If Jason is brave enough to take the torture instead, you'll live, and he'll let him go afterwards too. Of course Jason would never hesitate to save his baby sister and took the deal...pleading on his knees to be gentle with you. Your big brother thought Joker would instantly let you go run home, but that was just wishful thinking.

He just tied both of you up in chairs, both facing each other and he tormented Jason in front of you...You screamed and cried for your brother, traumatized by the unspeakable things Jason endured. Hour after hour, your brother looked less like himself, riddles with swollen lumps and colored black and blue. Yet...in the mist, Jason still smiled up at you, assuring you it was okay. It was worth it if it meant you could go home scott free. You could save him too, go get Bruce and he'll fix it all. Thiss would all be over soon and he'd recover.

You got him through it all, he focused on your face, even though it was snotty and red from your crying., it calmed him. It made him stronger. He was a good big brother, and good big brothers don't show fear.

Joker came to a stop...leaving the room for a moment while you and Jason sat facing each other. A sense of relief came over Jason as he knew it was all over, that soon you would be safe...he didn't have to suffer anymore. he used his last bit of energy to scoot his chair closer to yours until your knees were touching and he could just ever so slightly touch you with his bloody fingers..

His throat was dry and sore from the lashings, even barely audible but he made an attempt anyways

"i'll.. keep you..safe...okay. He can't get rid of me..babybat.”

His icy grey eyes, were dark and almost completely shut but you could still see just the tiny bit of light he had left in him still...for you.

His sacrifices wouldn't matter though because the Joker would soon come back, placing a clock on the table next to you both. It was now time to play with you too. Did you seriously think he would pass up the chance?? This was too easy.

But for Jason it was worse. He took you to the side of the room where he couldn't see what was happening but could hear. Your wails of terror infected his helpless mind. Joker had taped Jason's mouth shut so when you called out for his help, Jason couldn't assure you that he was still there... You couldn't see how badly Jason was fighting to get out of those restraints to help you but was too weak to get anywhere.

Jason died blaming himself and arose with the same burning guilt. You were the first thing on his mind when he crawled out of that grave and he dug at yours to get you out of there. He held your limp, dead corpse as he rocked you until you woke up..

He has mixed feelings. Part of him wishes you didn't wake up. You were better resting as an angel in heaven than being an angel in this hellscape. He liked the idea of you never having to suffer again…but this was a second chance

A second chance for your brother to care for and to protect you better than he ever has. He'll make up for everything he put you through, you'll see. This new life of yours will be everything you ever deserved.

He's extremely possessive over you, he doesn't trust Bruce or his other siblings. They didn't save his baby sister, they let you die in agony while they twiddled their thumbs. Jason was the only one who actually tried so they don't get to pretend they love you now.

He’s extremely hostile towards anyone who tries to get close to you. He’s not allowing that to happen.

You're his main priority, his own issues are side tracked for you. He'll cleanse Gotham of all of it's evils to make a safe world for his sis to live. You ground him, the only thing that can get through to him. Your existence validates his suffering.

I think he even takes a more fatherly/mature place in your life.

[oddity036]

UNCLE MIKE PT 2:

CW: DISPOSAL, (SAFE)

"Alright kid, your parents will be here in a couple hours... ready to hop out?"

Reluctantly, I said yes, not wanting to leave this warm, squishy heaven, but knowing I had to.

"Alright... well, I can really only get ya out one way..."

Confused by what he meant, I asked how he planned to let me out, though by that tone, I had my suspicions...

"Well, you've kinda gotta go the same way the rest of my food goes, y'know? You'll come out fine, albeit you'll smell a bit... Just let me work ya through, okay?"

Realizing what he meant, I began to think and panic before asking "Wait! How am i going to breathe through there?!"

Mike seemed to ponder this for a moment before asking, "Well, you ever heard of inflation?"

Cut to twenty minutes later, Mike had retrieved a pump and was slowly pumping air through his lower digestive tract for safe passage. As I began to slide through, the constant noise coming from his ass from the air being pushed back out was akin to a thunderstorm, almost loud enough to hurt my ears.

Before too long I was almost through the slimy chamber, but this whole experience had given me such a hardon, it was causing Mike pain.

"Kid, what are you doing in there? Something hurts like hell!"

I briefly explained it was my massive hardon, past the point of embarassment

"Well get rid of it! I aint pushin you any further till you do!"

I did as he instructed, but something was happening outside. As I took care of my own, I heard... moaning? Just then, the walls of the colon shrunk around me, squeezing hard. Was he... getting hard? I realized I must have been right at his prostate, so I felt around for it and... Bingo! I gently massaged the mass of tissue to help him. As I finished with my own hardon, I could hear Mike getting closer with his own, but every second he jacked off, I was losing more air. The only solution was to help him finish as soon as possible. It was too late, I took my last breath of the air that was still left, and held it as long as I could, but I started sliding back inside of Mike as he finished himself off... i began to pass out just as he gave one final push and expelled me from his now enlarged anus

Once I was fully out, he laid down on his belly, recovering, and pointed me to the shower to clean up. Once I finished washing all the... slime, off of my body, I got out and headed back to the living room where my parents were already waiting, with a fully clothed, albeit shirtless, (And probably hungry, now that I was gone) Mike.

"Ready to head home, champ?" My dad asked.

I replied- "Yeah! But uh, would yall mind if I spent a little more time with Uncle Mike?"

"Oh, uh, Sure!" My mom answered, and Mike gave me a sly grin

"Ohh yeah, He and I have are gonna get along just fine"

[ariahmichelle]

Fake It Till You Feel It- Part 3

Rafe Cameron x Reader Series

Link to Series Masterlist Here

Summary: You see your ex with a new girl wrapped around him after he told you “wasn’t ready for a relationship” after you had slowly started to fall for him. The betrayal stings. Rafe Cameron is dealing with his own issue—Amelia, a girl who refuses to take the hint that he’s not interested. One night you impulsively pretend to be Rafe’s girlfriend to get her to back off. To your surprise, it works. You also notice Alex looking pissed. This starts to become an unspoken routine between you when either Alex or Amelia are around. Simple right? However, longer this goes on, the more the lines blur between what’s real and what’s not.

Part 3- The Rescue Mission

••••••••••••••••••••• ••••••••••••••••••••••

It had been a slow, uneventful day—exactly what you’d wanted. You had spent the morning running errands, picking up a few things from town before finally making it home. Now, curled up on the couch, half-watching a show while scrolling on your phone, you were perfectly content to do nothing for the rest of the afternoon.

Then your phone buzzed.

Rafe: You busy?

You frowned, already suspicious.

You: I might be. Why?

Rafe: Because I need saving.

You snorted, shaking your head.

You: Let me guess… Amelia?

Rafe: What do you think?

You sighed, debating for a moment. Maybe it would be good for him to deal with her himself for once. But you also knew how persistent Amelia could be.

You: Sounds like a you problem, Cameron.

Rafe: Come on. Be a team player.

You: …How bad is it?

Rafe: Bad enough to text you :(

Before you could dwell on it too much, your mom walked into the room, grabbing her purse. “I’m heading out for a bit. Need a ride anywhere?”

“Actually, yeah,” you said, already slipping on your shoes.

——

When you arrived at the country club, you expected to find Rafe surrounded by Topper, Kelce, and maybe a few other guys, with Amelia clinging to him like always.

But instead, he was standing outside, alone.

You narrowed your eyes as you approached. “If you made me come all this way for nothing, you’re dead.”

Rafe exhaled, shaking his head. “Trust me, I wouldn’t have called you unless I had no other option.”

“That bad?”

He ran a hand down his face. “Worse.”

You crossed your arms, waiting.

“I was having lunch with my family,” he started, “and Amelia just invited herself over, telling my dad, Rose, Sarah, and Wheezie that she and I have been getting to know each other.” He grimaced. “She’s acting like we’ve been seeing each other, and I told them we weren’t, but—”

“But Ward told you not to be rude and let her stay,” you finished, already knowing how this went.

Rafe pointed at you. “Exactly.”

You groaned. “So now what?”

“I told them I was going to the bathroom,” he said. “And now I need you to help me get rid of her. And make sure my family knows I’m not with her.”

You hesitated. “Rafe, I’m not pretending to be your girlfriend in front of your dad.”

“Come on,” he said, and for the first time, you noticed how desperate he looked. “My dad likes you, okay? If you say we’re together, he’ll believe it, and Amelia will finally back off.”

You still weren’t convinced. “And what happens when he finds out it’s a lie?”

Rafe just shrugged. “That’s a future problem.”

You exhaled, glancing toward the entrance. “I swear to God, Cameron…”

Rafe smirked, sensing your hesitation cracking. “So you’ll do it?”

You groaned. “I hate you.”

His smirk widened. “No, you don’t.”

Rolling your eyes, you held out your hand. “Let’s get this over with.”

Without hesitation, Rafe took your hand, threading his fingers through yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And just like that, you walked into the lion’s den.

——

The Cameron family sat at a round table on the patio, the perfect picture of wealth and power. Ward sat at the head, Rose beside him, while Sarah and Wheezie chatted quietly. And, of course, Amelia stood close to Rafe’s empty chair, her hand way too close to where his arm would’ve been.

The moment you walked in, Sarah’s eyes widened.

“Are you kidding me?” she blurted.

Amelia turned—and her expression darkened instantly.

Ward raised an eyebrow. “Rafe?”

Rafe barely hesitated. “I wasn’t being rude earlier,” he said, looking directly at his father. “I was just trying to make it clear—I’m not with Amelia. Because I’m with someone else.”

He gave your hand a squeeze, and you took that as your cue. “Hey, Mr. Cameron,” you said with an easy smile, leaning slightly into Rafe’s side. “Hope you don’t mind me crashing family lunch.”

Ward looked between you and Rafe, brow furrowed. “You two are together?”

“Yep,” Rafe said smoothly. “Have been for a little while now.”

Sarah still looked shocked, and Wheezie looked downright delighted, but the best reaction came from Amelia, whose face was rapidly turning red.

“You have to be joking,” she snapped.

“Why?” Rafe tilted his head, feigning confusion. “Jealous?”

Amelia scoffed. “Please. I just didn’t realize you’d lowered your standards so much.”

Your smile tightened. “You know, for someone who’s so sure I’m not a threat, you seem really upset about this.”

Her mouth opened. Then closed. Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed off.

Wheezie barely contained her laughter.

Rose just sipped her wine, watching you both closely. “Well,” she said, “this is… interesting.”

Ward nodded slowly, clearly still processing. “Hmm.”

Before they could say anything else, Rafe let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, this has been fun, but we’ve got plans.”

“We do?” you muttered.

Rafe ignored you. “See you guys later.”

And with that, he pulled you away from the table, out of the club, and toward his truck.

As soon as you were outside, you smacked his arm. “You are so dead for that.”

Rafe just grinned, opening the truck door for you. “Relax. It worked, didn’t it?”

“You owe me.”

He just smirked. “That’s why I’m making it up to you right now.”

You eyed him suspiciously as you climbed into the truck. “How?”

“You’ll see.”

Fifteen minutes later, you found yourself sitting in the bed of his truck, legs crossed beneath you, a cup of ice cream in hand, on a hill overlooking the beach. Almost a little secret hideout you’ve never been to before.

“You know,” you said, glancing at him, “this is a pretty good spot. Romantic, even.”

Rafe scoffed. “If I was trying to be romantic, you’d know.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what does romantic Rafe Cameron look like?”

He smirked, leaning in slightly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade.

You took a slow bite of your ice cream, then glanced at Rafe. “So… this isn’t where you bring all your girls?”

Rafe scoffed. “Please. You think I waste gas on just anyone?”

You hummed. “Mm. Seems like a solid move, though, so I must be very special.”

Rafe just smirks not giving you the satisfaction of an answer.

After a few moments of silence, he leaned back, voice softer. “You know… I never thought Alex was good enough for you.”

You looked at him, surprised. “What?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged, “you always deserved better than that asshole.”

You shook your head. “Well… thanks, I guess.”

Rafe smirked. “Don’t get used to it.”

You laughed, licking your spoon. “No promises.”

—————————————

Let me know what you think? Could be some drama in the coming parts???

Taglist: @rafecameronsbaeee

@drewwhor @wtfisastiles @emmafitzzz

@yourmomdotcom42069 @yasmin-oviedo

@pogueprincesa @maybankslover

@my-name-is-baby @rafecameronsslut1234

[victorbutnotreally]

YOU WHAT???

Four times Mn surprised the members with his ~mysterious past~

A/N: Inspired by me constantly getting told that I "randomly drop lore". My friends didn't know that I played the piano until one day I saw a piano at my friend's place (her dad is a piano teacher) and I decided to play a nocturne. Hope you enjoy!

warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive, sometimes it may not make sense (but we're here to have fun), chan's room (rip), google translated french

One

"What is one thing you always carry around with you?"

That question was directed towards Mn. He snapped out of his trance of staring at Minho who was looking a little too pretty.

"Me? I always carry..." he pulls out a compass from his jean pocket. It was black and gold. "...this compass."

The members have seen a compass in Mn's pocket or in his bag while rummaging through it for snacks, but they didn't know he always had it.

"Why though?" was the question of a confused Jeongin.

"My neurophysiology professor gave it to me when I graduated. It means a lot to me since I didn't really receive a lot of gifts when I was younger. And he was such a good teacher."

The answer was met with gasps and widened eyes from the members. They didn't know their goofball of a member learned neuroscience. Hell, they didn't even know he went to university.

"WHAT?"

"PROFESSOR???"

"NEUROPHYSIOLOGY? THE FUCK??"

Two

Mn appeared as a special guest in Han's live. He was ranting about Achilles Come Down which was the song he recommended to be played on Chan's room last week. That's when he noticed a comment.

"Je vous aime tellement les gars ! Tu es honnêtement le meilleur et je ne peux pas te le dire assez"

He reads it out without a struggle and replies back in French.

"Merci beaucoup! Cela signifie beaucoup et j'espère que vous apprécierez également notre prochain album"

Han's eyes widened in surprise.

"Hold up, what?"

The comments started flooding in as well, completely thrown off by the sudden language change. No one knew he spoke French. They should've gotten used to the random lore dropping from Mn, though.

"OH MAH GAWDDDD"

"LORD HAVE MERCY THIS MAN CAN SPEAK FRENCH"

"i didn't know you spoke baguette!"

"just when i thought Mn couldn't get any hotter"

"get ready for the edits, y'all"

Jisung could only shake his head in disbelief.

Three

"Come on, hyung. I'm taking you back to the dorms and you're going to bed. Now."

"Just this one-"

"I slept more in university than you do now. And that's saying something, cuz I was busy!" He really was busy, with the neurology major, but that little smirk, the slight flush of his cheeks, and the bit of regret in saying that last statement was what made Chan raise a brow. There were a lot of times were Mn held his tongue when asked about ahem...experience.

"Yeah? What were you so busy with?"

"..My major, obviously. Now, get up."

Chan chuckled, getting up from his chair. "Nothing to smirk about in neurology, I'm sure."

"No one finds out about this, or I'll use my shooting skills on you."

"Your what now??"

Double lore drop. That's new.

Four

Mn was sitting with the rest of his members to react to his first solo song's MV. He wasn't exactly overjoyed by the idea, feeling awkward about seeing himself on screen. If it was a group MV, he could at least roast the others to get rid of the embarrassment of seeing whatever the directors told him to do on screen.

The screen fades in to a beautiful stage, an empty concert hall, occupied only by Mn who was painted with beautiful makeup and doing ballet. Gracefully, but the pain and insanity in his eyes is evident. Black Swan was the song.

"I...didn't know you did ballet."

Mn shrugged. His dance trainer knew, and honestly, he was glad the members found out this way. It was funny seeing their reactions.

[venusswhite]

my soul was made to love yours

Young Arcane Vi x Fem Leitora

soulmate AU notes: English is not my first language, and I initially wrote this fanfic in Portuguese. With the help of online resources, I rewrote it in English.

“But how will I know that I’ve found my soulmate?” I ask.

“You’ll know, dear,” my mother runs her fingers along my face. “It’s like the world finally comes to life,” she says with a smile.

“Is Dad your soulmate?”

“Yes, he is,” her hand rests on my cheek. “And you are proof of our love.”

I smile, pressing my face even closer to her hand.

“Mom, do you think it’ll take long for me to find my soulmate?” I hold her hands that remained in the same place.

“I don’t know, little one. Your dad and I met when we were just 10, but your Aunt Iris found Aunt Mirella at 25. You’ll find them at the right time.”

“I’m scared…” I say hesitantly.

“Scared?” she asks.

I remove her hands from my face, holding them in my lap. I look down and sigh, feeling my face grow wet:

“I’m afraid my soulmate will never show up… or that I’ll find them, and they won’t like me.”

“My love, your soulmate will like you. They will love every little part of you,” she dries the tears streaming down my face. “Just like I love your dad, they will love you.”

“Do you promise?” I ask, teary-eyed.

“I promise,” she laughs and pulls me into a hug.

I was helping my mom prepare dinner when enforcers invaded my house. Piltover had invaded Zaun and started a genocide. My dad was the first to die, screaming for my mom to take me to a safe place.

“She held me in her arms and ran.”

Motionless bodies were visible on all sides. Houses were on fire, and smoke invaded our vision.

After running a lot, we stopped in a house, which I would soon discover was not an ordinary house.

“I need you to take care of her,” she says, entering a room.

“This is not a place for children…”

“I know,” she cries, squeezing me tightly in her arms. “But you’re the only one I trust to leave her with.”

I look back and see a Yordle. I see her sigh and rise from her chair.

“Alright,” she says, helping me down from my mother’s arms.

“Mom?” I look at the taller woman, confused.

“It’s okay, my love. She’ll take good care of you,” she says, kneeling in front of me, trying to hold back tears.

“Where are you going?”

“I… Mommy will be right back, okay? Obey Aunt Babette,” she finishes, kissing my forehead and standing up. Then she leaves, giving me one last smile before closing the door.

“My mom was right; Babette took good care of me. Now I was 13 years old, and my mom had never returned. I don’t know what happened, but something tells me she went back to my dad.”

“At least they’re still together.”

I sigh and get up from my bed. Babette had told me not to leave because she had something to tell me. I unlock the door to my room, which was at the back of the cabaret, lock it behind me, and head to Babette’s room.

“Aunt Babette?” I enter and see a man.

“Good morning, [Name]!” the man says.

“[Name], this is Vander.”

“Hi,” I say shyly.

“Vander has four children, some your age,” I raise an eyebrow, not knowing where she was going with this. “I talked to him, and he agreed to take you into his home.”

“What?”

Why did she want to get rid of me?

“[Name], this isn’t a place for you. You can still visit me…”

“No. I want to stay with you.”

“[Name], you’re not going to stop seeing Babette,” Vander says. “She just wants what’s best for you.”

“And how do I know that going with you is really what’s best?” I retort.

“As she said, I have four kids there. It’ll be good for you to have interactions with children your age.”

“[Name], you’ll also be safer there. This isn’t a healthy place for a child to grow up.”

The idea of having other kids around was tempting. And this place really wasn’t the best to be. I had seen things I didn’t want to.

I looked at Babette and then at Vander.

“Okay, but I’ll only go if I can come here every day.”

“You can,” Vander says. “I would never deny you that.”

“We were walking through the streets of Zaun. With one hand, Vander held my smaller hand, while with the other, he carried my suitcase.”

“He stops in front of a bar with a big sign that read ‘The Last Drop.’ He pulls a key from his pocket and unlocks it.”

“You live in a bar?” I ask, making him laugh.

“My house is behind it,” he opens the door and enters, locking it behind him. The place was big but empty. “I asked the kids to organize things for your arrival.”

We walked among the tables until we stopped behind the counter where there was a door. Before Vander could open it, it was opened, and a little girl came out.

“Welcome, [Name]!” she says enthusiastically.

“Thank you…”

“Powder,” she says.

“Thank you, Powder!” I smile.

Having more kids around really seemed like a good idea.

“Where are the others?” Vander asks.

“Downstairs,” she points. “Come on, [Name]!”

The little girl pulled me downstairs and opened another door, which also had a small staircase. It was a small place with bunk beds and two sofas, where two boys were sitting.

“Welcome!” the older one said, standing up. “I’m Claggor, and this is Mylo.”

“Hey,” Mylo said.

“Hi,” I greet.

“Where’s Vi?”

Vi?

What a strange feeling. It was like my body was getting excited just hearing that name. Like something was pulling me.

Maybe I was just excited to finally meet another girl.

“I’m here!” I hear a soft and familiar voice. A shiver ran down my spine.

What is this?

I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and turn to look at the girl now behind me.

The moment I saw her, a fire exploded in my chest, spreading to the rest of my body. I gasped, moaning softly, as flashes and lights invaded my vision, causing a sharp pain to pierce my head.

“What… what’s happening?” I hear her voice, trembling, seeming to go through the same confusion I was.

When I managed to open my eyes again, the world was… different. As if everything had gained a bit more life.

Then I saw her, equally shaken, holding onto the railing near her. She was beautiful. Her hair was some striking color and pulled back, her eyes shone, and freckles adorned her cheeks. That’s when I realized��

She was my soulmate.

Her gaze was on me, but I couldn’t decipher what she was feeling. It was like being noticed for the first time. My heart was racing.

I took hesitant steps back, trying to keep as much distance from her as possible.

Insecurities were consuming me. My thoughts haunted me.

What if she didn’t like me?

I was pulled from my thoughts by a voice:

“They’re soulmates!” Powder shouted excitedly.

“Kids, go upstairs!” Vander demanded.

I watched the kids leave, looking back at us. Mylo and Claggor had shocked expressions, while Powder wore a big smile. They closed the door, leaving the three of us there.

“So…” Vander broke the silence. “What a coincidence.” He looked at the two of us.

Vi’s eyes were still fixed on me, full of shock.

“I’ll leave you two to talk. Take all the time you need; the others won’t interrupt,” then he also left the room.

I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Her gaze was indecipherable.

Why isn’t she saying anything?

“My name is Violet,” she said, breaking the silence and approaching, extending her hand to me.

“[Name],” I said, shaking her hand and letting go as soon as I felt that same familiar shiver down my spine.

“Looks like we’ve found each other,” she said, averting her gaze.

“Are you disappointed?” I finally decided to ask.

“Disappointed?” her face filled with pure confusion.

“Yes… Because I’m your soulmate.”

“Of course not, [Name]. Why would I be?”

“I don’t know. I was afraid I wouldn’t be what you expected,” I answered honestly.

“You’re exactly what I expected,” she finally smiled.

“Well… you’re even better than I imagined,” I replied, smiling back.

She moved closer and gently took one of my hands, bringing us even closer to each other.

“Your hair is beautiful,” I said, running a hand through it.

“Vander told me its color is pink,” she replied since, as we couldn’t see colors until meeting our soulmate, it was normal not to know what they were called.

“Then pink is my favorite color from now on,” I said, smiling.

My comment made her smile, and her cheeks turned the same shade as her hair.

“Your cheeks are the color of your hair,” I laughed even more.

“Damn it,” she muttered, trying to cover them with her hands, still smiling.

“Don’t cover them,” I said, taking her hands and lowering them to our laps.

She looked at our joined hands and smiled even more.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered.

Our eyes met again, and it was impossible to look away. It felt like something was pulling us closer every second. My heart raced, and that same familiar shiver coursed through my body. I moved closer to her face until I could feel her breath against mine. I raised my hand toward her cheek, feeling her soft, warm skin. I brushed my fingers gently, caressing her. My eyes drifted to her lips, and I noticed she did the same.

“I think it might be a little too soon,” I whispered, mere inches from her face.

“We have all the time in the world,” she replied, placing a hand on my cheek and mirroring my movements. “We’re going to spend our whole lives together.”

“A life with you is all I could ever ask for,” I smiled. “My mother used to tell me that when we met our soulmate, it was like everything came to life. I never understood that, but now I do.”

Our foreheads touched, and time seemed to stop. Being so close, I could see every detail of her eyes, every color blending together to form a beautiful pattern, like an entire universe existed within her gaze. Tears stung my eyes, and I couldn’t stop them from falling. Violet smiled tenderly and, with delicate fingers, wiped the tears that escaped.

I slowly pulled away, just enough to kiss her forehead, a gesture she returned moments later, full of care and affection.

We rested our foreheads together again, closing our eyes and simply enjoying the whirlwind of emotions surrounding us. Feeling the warm, comforting presence of each other, it was as if, in that moment, nothing else existed but us.

[love--and--venom]

Pack Mentality: Chapter Three

Chapter Summary: You upgrade your phone and return to your parents' house to pack. Chan has some choice words for your father. You get some one-on-one time with the pack alpha.

Warnings: Implied slut-shaming

Series Masterlist

Later that night, you climbed into bed next to Felix. The blonde lent you a t-shirt and sweats to wear to sleep. You had to tie the drawstring on the pants super tight to keep them from falling off. You practically laid on top of your fellow omega, tucking your nose into his collarbone.

“Hey Felix?” He hummed in acknowledgment. “I don’t want to be rude, but why don’t you and Chan share a room?”

“Normally we do. Jeongin was a late bloomer, he only just presented as an alpha a few months ago. I swapped rooms with him for a bit so Chan can help him adjust to his new instincts.” The current room arrangements paired Chan with Jeongin, Changbin with Hyunjin, Minho with Jisung, and finally the room you were in now: Seungmin and Felix. 

“Hey, you should get some sleep,” Seungmin announced after shutting the door behind him. You were only a little jealous of how cozy his sleep pants looked. “You went through a lot today, and you have a lot to do tomorrow.”

“I know.” The beta leaned over Felix to press a quick kiss to your temple, then settled into his own bed. “Seungmin?”

“What’s up, love?”

“Thank you, for everything.”

It took Felix over ten minutes to drag you out of bed. It was already later in the morning, so you had to get ready to head out right after leaving the warm cocoon of blankets. You changed into your jeans from yesterday and a clean sweater from Minho. 

“Come on, Chan’s probably bugging out cus we’re leaving later than he wanted to,” Felix snickered. Sure enough, the pack alpha was pacing the kitchen. He seriously wanted to get this over with so you could finally be rid of your father. You were handed a granola bar and corralled out the door. 

Getting your phone upgraded and on to the pack’s plan was fairly easy, albeit extremely tedious. You were in the store for nearly an hour and a half. By the end of it, you were bored out of your mind. Since your dad didn’t allow any social media accounts (every new tidbit of information about your dad pissed your pack members off even more), you watched Felix scroll through his. Finally, you exited the store with an iPhone 15 wrapped in a floral case and screen protector. You used your old phone to let your mom know you were on your way. 

“Hi, honey!” Your mom swung the door open before you could even take your keys out of your pocket. 

“Hi mom,” you smiled at her. “These are my friends Chan, Felix, and Changbin. They’re gonna help me pack and get my stuff to the new apartment.”

“Oh, Ji-ah couldn’t come?” You shook your head. The worry was evident on her face, and it made you feel even worse about lying to her.

“She’s getting her own boxes unpacked,” you explained. “I’ll introduce you soon, I promise.” Your mom stepped to the side so you could come in. 

“Your father’s in the kitchen, you should go say hi.” Chan tensed at your side. “We have some boxes in the garage, I’ll show your friends where they are.”

“I can go with Y/N, I’m sure her dad would like to know that we’re gonna take good care of her.” Felix rested his hand on your lower back.

“Her and Ji-ah, I hope,” your mom teased.

“Of course, ma’am. We actually live on the floor above them, so if you’d like any of our phone numbers please let us know,” Chan offered. Your mom perked up a bit, nodding and taking out her phone as she led the alphas to the garage. Your dad leaned against the counter, sipping on a cup of coffee. 

“Well, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you back so soon. You must be real excited to be the shiny new toy for those alpha boys,” he smirked over the rim of the mug. Felix’s face hardened, a complete contrast to his gentle hands taking your old phone.

“Here, you can have this piece of shit back.” Felix approached your dad and threw the phone on the counter next to him. Your dad glared at the phone, then at Felix.

“You better watch your fucking tone with me, omega,” he sneered and slammed his mug on the counter. Coffee spilled over the side and onto your old phone. Felix didn’t falter under the intensity of your father. The blonde tilted his head, baring his teeth in challenge.

“Or what?” Your dad clenched his fists at his sides and took a step toward Felix. You held your breath.

“The boxes are ready!” You thanked every god you could think of when your mom poked her head into the kitchen. It was like flipping a switch. At the sight of your mom, your dad’s demeanor instantly turned friendly. 

“If you ever need any help, you know we’re just a phone call away.” Your dad ruffled your hair and stalked over to his home office. You took a deep, shuddering breath before leading Felix to your room. Chan and Changbin were already inside with boxes set up. 

“I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything,” your mom said as she closed the door. 

“I fucking hate your dad,” Felix scoffed after your mom’s footsteps faded. 

“What did he do?” Chan bristled. A muscle twitched in Chan’s neck as he ground his teeth.

“Called our omega a “shiny new toy” then tried to intimidate me,” Felix shrugged. Chan scoffed, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“Can we please just pack so we can leave?” You pleaded, already tense from the confrontation in the kitchen. They nodded, silently moving to put your entire life into cardboard boxes. You paused in the middle of folding a t-shirt. “What are we going to do about my furniture? My mom thinks I’m moving into an apartment, I can’t just leave it here.

“I can have a moving company take them later in the week. Whether we put it in storage or donate it is up to you,” Chan offered without looking up from your photo album. Inside were dozens of photos from when you were young, before you presented as an omega. You looked like a perfect family. You rarely went through that album anymore. The memories made your heart ache too much. 

After an hour, you had all of your essentials loaded into five boxes. You tried to help Chan and Changbin carry them out to the SUV, but they were having none of it. You and Felix leaned on the hood of the car. Your mom approached and engulfed you in a tight hug. Felix rubbed circles on your shoulders while you exchanged teary goodbyes.

“If you need anything please let me know,” your mom urged. She cupped your face in her hands.

“I will, I promise.” You covered one of her hands with your own. She smiled, a mix of pride and sadness welling in her chest.

“When did my baby girl get so grown up?” You dug yourself back into her neck, basking in her comforting scent for what might be the last time for a while. 

Your dad stood in front of the door, arms crossed but a neutral look adorning his face. Changbin was getting the last box into the trunk, so Chan took the opportunity to talk to your dad.

“Can I give you a piece of advice, man to man?” Chan shoved his hands into his pockets. Your dad raised an eyebrow.

“I’d hardly call you a man, but I’ll humor you.” Chan’s easy-going posture immediately straightened out so he stood at his full height. He glowered down at your father, eyes cold and steely. He leaned closer, invading your dad’s space.

“Don’t ever fuck with my omegas,” he growled low in his chest. Chan stepped back, satisfied with the hint of fear swimming in your dad’s eyes. With one final goodbye to your mom, the four of you climbed into the car and drove off toward the dorms. Felix messaged the group chat to let everyone know you were almost home. You pulled into a parking spot and were met with Minho, Jeongin, and Seungmin waiting to help unload the car.

“Is this everything?” Jeongin asked. “Only five boxes?” You nodded sheepishly. The young alpha shrugged and lifted one of the boxes, followed quickly by the other non-omegas. 

“Where should I put everything?” You looked at Chan once in the elevator. 

“For now, try to keep the boxes mostly packed. You may not want your own bed, but we’ll have to get you a dresser for yourself.” He nudged you with his elbow. You hummed in affirmation. Your boxes were stacked in the corner of Seungmin and Felix’s room. 

“I’ll get lunch started,” Minho said mostly to himself as he moved to the kitchen. Everyone followed suit, but you stopped Chan by tugging the back of his shirt. 

“Everything alright?” He ran a hand down your arm, stopping to hold the hand on his shirt. 

“Yea, but can we talk for a minute?” Chan closed the door and sat next to you on Felix’s bed. He rested a hand on your knee. “I heard what you said to my dad before we left.”

“I was hoping you didn’t, but I can’t say I regret doing it,” he admitted with a squeeze to your knee. You leaned your chin on his shoulder.

“I’m not upset. I’m telling you because it made me really happy to hear you call me your omega.” You felt his smile when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You are my omega.” You forced down the purr that threatened to rise in the back of your throat. 

“I want the pack bond,” you blurted out before you lost your spark of confidence. Chan pulled you back by your shoulders, meeting your eyes with an intensity you weren’t expecting. 

“Are you absolutely sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured to–”

“Chan,” you interrupted his rant. His lips pressed into a thin line. “I thought about it the entire ride back here. I’m not doing this because I feel obligated. I want it.” His face softened. He looked at you with a fierce tenderness you’d never seen in anyone. His hands trailed up to your jaw, running his thumb across your heated cheek. 

“Can I kiss you?” You nodded without hesitation. His first kiss was feather-light, giving you an opportunity to pull back if you wanted to. When you didn’t, he pressed further into you, one hand cupping the back of your neck and the other resting on your waist. His tongue darted out against your bottom lip, and you parted them so he could lick into your mouth. You squeaked when he nipped at your lip. He breathed out a laugh at your reactions, moving from your mouth down to the sensitive skin under your ear. His kisses were hot and heavy as he worked his way to your scent gland, already addicted to the taste of you. 

“Ready?” He mumbled against your neck. You nodded, heart racing against your ribcage. “I need words, baby.”

“I’m ready, please, Chan.” He licked over your gland one last time. Then his teeth sunk into your skin, sending a rush of emotions down your spine. You couldn't stop the quiet moan that fell from your lips. He bit down harder, then pulled back to soothe the fresh wound with his tongue. Once he was satisfied, he leaned back to admire the bite and your sappy, dazed expression.

“Your turn,” Chan smiled and pulled his t-shirt to the side, revealing overlapping bond marks. You copied his actions, littering his neck with soft kisses. He gripped the comforter to hold himself back. Finally, you bit down to add a mark of your own to his collection. You released your hold on his gland and before you could lap at the blood seeping from the new mark, Chan kissed you again hard. His fingers skimmed under the hem of your shirt. This was when your stomach decided to interrupt with a loud grumble.

“Sorry,” you giggled and rested your forehead against his. Chan pressed another quick kiss to your lips before pulling you up and out to the kitchen. To say the others were excited about your new bond would be the understatement of the century. You were practically drowned in the pack’s kisses, only saved by food being set on the table. 

A week flew by and you were happier than you’ve ever been in the past couple of years. There was only one thing lingering in the back of your mind. Your heat was getting closer and you had yet to tell Chan what you wanted to do. It wasn’t on purpose, but between their schedule and your classes you didn’t have time to talk to him. Your opportunity arose when everyone except for you, Chan, and Hyunin went out to get drinks at a bar down the street. You softly knocked on the door to Chan and Jeongin’s room. The former twisted around in his office chair, pulling his headphone down to rest on his neck.

“Hey, love, you doing alright?”

“Yes, but I do need to tell you something.” You stepped further into the room, hesitating by the end of the desk. He patted his lap and held his arms open for you. After you made yourself comfortable you hyped yourself up to say what was on your mind.

“Okay, I thought about what you told me on my first night here.” You paused, trying to word this correctly. “I’ve decided that I want your help. I don’t want to be alone for my heat”

“I’m not gonna lie, I was really hoping you’d say that,” Chan smirked at your blush. You flicked his forehead.

“I’m not done!” You huffed. He raised his eyebrows at your bold teasing. You averted your gaze to your lap. “I also want your claim.” He inhaled sharply, dropping his head to your shoulder for a brief moment before turning your face back to his with a finger under your chin. 

“Darling, I would be more than happy to do both of those for you. We’ll go to the sanctuary hotel to get a room set up.” You furrowed your brows.

“We both need to go? Wait, why are we even going to a hotel?”

“We’re going to the hotel because if anyone interrupts I might start throwing punches.” Your jaw dropped.

“What?!” 

“Sorry.” Chan winced. “That was meant to be a joke.” You visibly relaxed. “But in all seriousness, we’re going because I don’t want you overwhelmed by everyone. This will be your first heat with us and it’s very soon after we met. I’d like to give you more time to settle in before more than one of us are there for your heat.” Your face turned bright red at the implication.

“O-okay, but I still don’t know why we both need to go to set up the reservation.”

“You have to sign some paperwork to confirm that I’m allowed in your room. They take the safety of the omegas very seriously. No alpha or beta is allowed past the reception desk without verifying their ID and getting checked by security.” 

“Oh, wow, that’s actually really nice,” you commented. “When can we go?” Chan smiled with a look in his eye reserved for you and Felix. He captured your lips with his own for a quick but sweet kiss. 

“We’ll go on Monday.” He patted your hip. “You wanna stay here or hang out with Hyunjin?” You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck.

“Here.”

“I gotta warn you, it’s gonna be boring since I’m just working on some new mixes.” You borderline purr against his neck. He pecked your forehead and slid his headphones back on, focusing on his PC and enjoying your warmth.

Permanent Taglist: @furfoxsake22 @babygirlskz98 @miniverse-zen @holly-here

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[doctorbitchcrxft]

Bedtime Stories | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: healing from a sexual assault, some tasteful smut (MDNI 18+ ONLY), canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 5344

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

Now that you and the brothers had a working Colt thanks to Bobby and, as much as you hated to admit it, Ruby, the brothers were debating what to do with it. 

“I don't understand, Dean. Why not?” Sam questioned angrily. 

“Because I said so.”

“We got the Colt now!”

“Sam…” Dean warned. 

“We can summon the Crossroads Demon—”

Dean shouted over Sam, “We're not summoning anything—!”

“—pull the gun on her, and force her to let you out of the deal!” Sam finished, getting louder.

You rubbed your temples, head pounding with each shout.

“We don't even know if that'll work!” Dean roared. 

“Well, then we'll just shoot her! If she dies, then the deal goes away!” Sam yelled. 

“Boys!” You finally shouted, silencing them. “Both of you are going to get a grip, or so help me god, I will do this one on my own; you understand?!”

Neither man responded to you, both staring wordlessly at the road ahead. 

“Sam, the crossroads demons don’t hold the contracts—” you began.

Sam cut you off. “How do you—?!”

“Let me finish!” you snapped. 

Sam quieted again. 

“And Dean has already said that if we fuck with this deal at all, you die.”

“And if we don't fuck with it, Dean dies!”

Dean broke back in. “Sam, enough! I am not going to have this conversation.”

The brunet scoffed. “Why, because you said so?”

“Yes, because I fucking said so!” Dean asserted. 

“Well, you’re not Dad!”

The two men stared silently at each other. 

“No, but I am the oldest,” Dean finally said fiercely. “And I'm doing what's best. And you're going to let this go, you understand me?”

Sam turned away and looked angrily out the window. 

“Tell me about the psychotic killer,” Dean ordered calmly. “C'mon, Sam, tell me about the psychotic killer.”

Sam grabbed a paper from his lap and read monotonously. “Psychotic killer… rips victims apart with brute-like ferocity.”

“Any razor sharp teeth or four-inch claws?” you asked. 

“No. But the lunar cycle's right. Look,” Sam sighed, “if it is a werewolf, we don't have long; moon's full this Friday and that's the last time it changes for a month.”

Dean shrugged. “Two days, no sweat.”

***

That night, when you arrived at the motel in the town you’d be hunting in, you and Dean got a room separate from Sam. The two boys decided they needed some time apart after their argument. 

“How do you know that killing the crossroads demon won’t get rid of my deal?” Dean asked, breaking the silence that had settled over you as the two of you got ready for bed.

“Dean—”

“(Y/N),” he said sternly, turning to face you. “Answer me.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you finished pulling on your— well, Dean’s— t-shirt. 

“Sweetheart, please,” he begged you. “Tell me the truth.”

“I’m not gonna mince my words,” you began. “I was trying to get you out of your deal while I was gone. Y’know, before the Seven Deadlies? I tried to make a deal to get you out of yours. No one would bite.”

“(Y/N), why the fuck would you—”

“Because I love you,” you cut him off. You headed over to him and cupped his cheek in your hand. “And if I could stop you from dying without hurting Sam, I would. I’d trade my life for yours in a heartbeat.”

He kissed your palm, but you could tell he was still upset at the thought of you doing that for him. “Are you still trying?”

You shook your head and removed your hand from his face. “No. I knew you’d never forgive me if I was.”

“Damn right,” Dean replied. He stared down at you intensely, and you couldn’t quite read his expression. 

You searched his eyes desperately. “What am I gonna do without you,” you breathed out before you could think about it. 

Dean leaned down and rested his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of him against you. 

You nuzzled your nose against his and slowly leaned in to kiss him. As soon as your lips connected, Dean wrapped his arms around you and held you against him firmly while you threaded your fingers through his hair.

You could feel Dean encouraging you to jump, and you wound your legs around his waist. He caught you easily and walked you over to the bed. Dean gently laid you back on the pillow, and you kept your ankles crossed behind his back. You tugged greedily on his shirt until he tore it off himself, and he then began pushing your shirt up your body. 

You allowed Dean to remove your shirt and then your bra. He looked to you, eyes hungry but pleading and respectful. “Can I—?” He paused. “Can I touch you?”

You nodded, feeling slightly proud of yourself that you were making Dean Winchester get flustered. 

“Words, sweetheart,” he said. 

“Yes. Please touch me,” you begged, arching into him.

He breathed out, almost in relief, and goosebumps formed under his touch as he trailed his fingers down your stomach. Searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation all the way down, he stopped his fingers at your panties. 

“Dean, it’s okay,” you told him. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, staring at you intensely. 

“Dee,” you told him, grabbing his wrist, “it’s okay. I’m okay.” You guided his hand into the waistband of your underwear and allowed him to slip his fingers between your folds.

You took in a sharp breath as he did so, and Dean leaned in to kiss you passionately. He gently bit your lip every once in a while, and you began to palm him through his boxers. He groaned into your mouth, and you couldn’t wait to feel him against you. 

“Dean,” you said between kisses, “Dee, I need you.”

“God, yes,” he groaned, “I need you, too.”

You kissed him feverishly, hands making quick work of his and your underwear while he played with your breasts. Dean sat back on his knees and stroked his cock. 

You looked up at him, somehow both doe-eyed and wantonly, and spread your legs to expose yourself to him. 

“God, (Y/N),” he breathed out. “You are so… beautiful.”

You smiled warmly, instantly reaching out to pull him back down to you. He happily accepted your touch and lined himself up with your vagina.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked. 

“Yes. God, yes,” you moaned. 

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. Within seconds, he was inside you. He rolled his hips against yours smoothly, kissing you gently as his thrusts stretched you out deliciously. His thrusts soon became sloppy, and he broke the kiss to reach down to your clit.

“Cum for me,” he commanded gently. 

“Need you to first,” you whined. 

“Nuh-uh,” he replied, quickening the circles he made around your clit. “Now.”

“Dean—!” you moaned, suddenly convulsing with your orgasm. You reached out to him and scratched at his back, begging the orgasm to slow down. It hit you suddenly and rolled in in waves that you couldn’t escape from. You couldn’t tell whether or not you wanted Dean to get off you or hold you through it, and your spasming around him sent Dean into his own orgasm. Ropes of his cum shot into you, causing your own orgasm to intensify. You whined and writhed around, feeling the ecstasy would never end. It became almost painful, and Dean did his best to soothe you through it. He let you guide him to where you needed him to touch you or not touch you, and you were grateful for this rare moment of gentleness from him. 

Still inside you, Dean held you against his chest as your orgasm finally subsided. 

“How was that?” he smirked down at you. 

You playfully shoved him away. 

***

Later that night, still in that same position with Dean— you against his chest with his semi-hard cock inside you— your breathing became so deep that you thought Dean assumed you’d gone to sleep. 

“I love you,” Dean admitted. 

Your heart nearly stopped. You looked up to him, a flurry of emotions swirling inside you. “You do?” 

He nodded. “Thought you were sleeping, honestly, but I’m glad you heard it anyway—”

You cut him off with a deep kiss, hugging him to you. You kissed all over his face, and his boyish giggle was what finally made you stop kissing him. “I love you,” you told him. 

“I know.”

“Oh, my god, you did not just Star Wars me,” you scoffed playfully. 

“Oh, c’mon, you had to know I would,” Dean replied, nudging his nose with yours. 

***

The next day, you and the brothers headed to meet the man who’d barely survived the scuff with the werewolf. When you arrived, the man was apparently expecting you to be the sketch artist. 

Much to the brothers relief, your skill with a pen came in quite handy. However, the person who’d killed his brothers was just… human. Interestingly enough, he also had a Wile E. Coyote tattoo. Quite comically, the situation reminded you of the Three Little Pigs story. 

You said as much to the brothers when you left the hospital.

“(Y/N), that’s fucked up,” Sam remarked. 

“I’m sorry! I know it is! But think about it,” you replied, wincing, “three brothers who work at a construction site? Mauled by a guy with a Wile E. Coyote tattoo?”

“I don’t remember the wolf having a fuckin’ cartoon tattoo, sweetheart,” Dean snorted. 

“Whatever. Just thought it was funny,” you shrugged, shoving Dean’s shoulder. “Anyway, what’d you find out from the doc?”

“Not much,” Dean responded, “they were D.O.A. at the scene. He did give me the lowdown on the coroner's report.”

“Lemme guess,” Sam cut him off, “their hearts were missing.”

Dean sighed. “Nope. But chunks of their kidneys, lungs, and intestines.”

“Oh, ew,” you grimaced. 

“Yeah; definitely not werewolf behavior.”

“So, what? Demon? Attacker could've been possessed,” the brunet suggested. 

“Yeah, but that guy said the dude stopped halfway through the attack. Why would a demon do that?” you challenged. 

“I think that, uh…” Sam trailed off. “Could've... Yeah, I got nothing.”

“Me, neither,” said Dean. 

***

That night, you and the brothers had gone your separate way for the evening. Dean, of course, was still sharing a room with you. 

“Hey, I meant to ask you,” Dean began, “were you… okay with last night?”

You smiled lopsidedly at him. “Yeah, I was.” You appreciated his concern with hurting you or retraumatizing you. You supposed that was one of the reasons he was so helpful to you through all this, and he was likely the reason you were able to be intimate with someone a little under five months after the attack. Had that atrocity happened to you prior to meeting Dean, you were sure your situation would’ve had a vastly different outcome. 

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts and began to apply lotion to your legs sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you and Sam ever gonna talk about your seriously unfinished business?”

“I told him not to bring it up again. So no. And I’d prefer if we didn’t, either,” Dean said sharply. 

“Well, frankly, I don’t give a fuck what you’d prefer. You need to apologize to him,” you told him. 

“Why?” he scoffed. 

“Because I said so,” you stated, throwing the phrase he’d used in his fight with Sam back at him. 

He half-chuckled but was still clearly annoyed.

“See? Not so good of a reason, is it?”

Dean barely gave you time to finish your remark before he was speaking up again. “Why do you even care?” 

“Because I care about you and Sam. And I have to share a car with you two for the foreseeable future. I’d rather you not wanna kill each other until the end of the line,” you jested, putting the jar of lotion on the nightstand next to you. 

Dean lounged against the pillow with his head propped up on the crook of his elbow on the headboard. You shifted yourself to where you were sitting cross-legged next to his hips, facing him. 

“Hey, I don’t wanna keep talking about this every day of our lives till you get dragged to Hell—”

“Good,” he cut you off gruffly, “me neither.”

“—but I’m also not gonna pretend like these discussions aren’t important. I need you to be honest with me and yourself. You are scared of going, and that’s okay—”

“Oh, god—” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Hey,” you said, pushing his chin back towards you. “I wasn’t done. But I need you to be honest with me, or this doesn’t work.” You gestured between the two of you as you spoke. “I don’t need you to be tough all the time. I just need you to keep it real with me.”

“What difference does it make? I still go to Hell when this is over anyway,” Dean replied. 

“But maybe you’d be able to enjoy living a little bit more if you’d just let me in,” you said, cupping his cheek. 

Dean thought for a moment before he kissed the inside of your palm. “You’re right,” was all he could say. 

“I know I am,” you smirked. 

He rolled his eyes at you, but there was genuine amusement behind them. 

***

That night, you didn’t get much sleep. You stayed awake listening to the police scanner and stroking Dean’s hair as he slept soundly beside you. The police scanner held the least of your attention between the two, though. This was another one of those memories you’d hold near and dear to your heart when Dean was gone. 

Around five in the morning, the scanner finally caught your attention. Static, frantic ramblings exchanged discussing a woman that had been found staggering around coming from the woods. When deputies went with her back to the scene, they found a house where the woman’s former hiking partner and their attacker, an old woman, lay dead in the kitchen. 

You hated to wake up the man with his arms wrapped around your hips, but you knew you needed to get to the hospital the victim was being rushed to and interview her. 

“Dean,” you said softly, running your hand through his hair. “Dean.”

He hummed against your hip, tightening his hold of you. You smiled but continued to try and wake him. 

“Dean, c’mon.”

“Hmm,” he grumbled, “what time is it?”

“I’m not even gonna tell you, ‘cause you’ll kill me,” you joked, ruffling his hair. 

He lightly shoved your hand away from his head and returned his strong arms to their original positioning around you. 

“Dean! C’mon; we gotta get to the hospital. Somethin’ came in on the scanner,” you told him. 

“Can it wait till seven?” he asked you. 

“No.” You tried to wiggle out of his arms to move to the bathroom. He refused to let go of you, though, despite your protests through giggles. “C’mon, dude. We gotta get goin’. I gotta go get Sammy.”

“Ugh, fine,” he grumbled, pressing a kiss to your bare hip. 

Goosebumps formed under his lips, and you took in a sharp breath. “Okay, okay, get off me,” you said, gently pushing his arms away from you. 

***

When you arrived at the hospital, you talked to the witness who said she and her hiking partner had been drugged by an old woman who poisoned a pie she fed them. 

Interestingly enough, she also mentioned seeing a little girl with dark hair and pale skin in the window outside the home. 

Naturally, you and the Winchesters went to investigate the house. 

You took in your wooded surroundings and the strange house sitting in the middle of nowhere. You went into the house with Sam and noted the EMF meter in his hand beeping frantically. 

“(Y/N), I’m thinking you may be right about the whole fairytale thing,” Sam said. 

“Dude, I was kidding—”

“Yeah, but I’m not,” he replied. “A guy and a girl? Hiking through the woods, an old lady tries to eat 'em? That's Hansel and Gretel. And, like you said, those three brothers arguing over how to build houses, attacked by the Big Bad Wolf.”

“Like the Grimm Brothers,” you realized. “Sex, violence, cannibalism; a child’s guide to fucked-up folklore.”

“Right,” Sam nodded. “Now, it got sanitized over the years; turned into Disney flicks and bedtime stories.”

“So, why would the ghost be doing a reenactment?” you wondered aloud. “The creepy girl? Pale skin and dark hair sounds like Snow White.”

“You’re right, it does,” Sam said. “But it’s weird that she’s in the middle of another fairytale. But I’m willing to bet you top dollar she was at the construction site too.”

“Dean’s gonna be thrilled. It’s research time,” you snickered.

Sam grinned at you, and the two of you went outside to inform the other brother of your musings. 

***

However, your research came up empty. There had been very few violent childhood deaths in the area, and none of them involved a girl with black hair and pale skin. 

Dean led you and his brother across the street from the library into the park. 

“You wanna know how many little girls with black hair and pale skin that have gone missing?” Dean didn’t give you a chance to respond. “Right again. Zip. zilch, nada. Tell me you've got something good 'cause I've totally wasted the last six hours.”

Sam snorted. “Well, you ever hear of Lillian Bailey? She was a British medium from the 1930s.”

“She got a thing for fairy tales?” Dean questioned.

“Nah, trances. See she'd go into these unconscious states where, uhm, get this, her thoughts and actions were completely controlled by spirits,” the younger brother explained.

“A ghost puppet master,” Dean nodded. 

You rolled your eyes. “In layman’s terms, sure.”

“Think that's what this kid is doing? Sending wolfboy and grandma into trances, making them go kill-crazy?” Dean’s brow furrowed. 

The brunet shrugged. “Could be. You know, kinda like uh, uh, spirit hypnosis or somethin'.”

“Trances I get, but fairytale trances? That's bizarre even for us,” Dean sighed. 

You quickly grabbed Dean’s arm to keep him from stepping on a bullfrog sitting in your path, croaking. 

“Yeah, you're right. That's completely normal,” Sam remarked, looking down at the frog.

“Alright, maybe it is fairytales. Totally messed-up fairytales. Wanna kiss the frog, princess?” Dean looked over at you smirking.

“Fuck no,” you grimaced. You turned to see a pumpkin sitting on the porch of a home. “Huh,” you said. 

“Yeah? It's close to Halloween,” Dean shrugged. 

“No, dude, Cinderella,” you continued. “Pumpkin turns into a coach, and the mice become horses.”

Dean chuckled. 

“What?” you asked.

“I dunno, just never pegged you for the fairytale type. You’re a little rough around the edges compared to the Disney princesses.”

“I’ll try not to take offense to that,” you joked, “but I was a little girl once; y’know that, right?” You picked the lock on the house and led the brothers inside. 

It was completely quiet, and you and the Winchesters wordlessly decided to split up. 

You moved toward the kitchen, and someone inside apparently heard you. 

“Help! I'm in here!” a voice called. 

“Shh, shh, hey!” you said, rushing into the kitchen. There was a teenage girl handcuffed to the oven. You immediately set to work picking the lock on the cuffs. “It’s okay, I got you,” you told her. 

The girl was crying, and her blonde hair was a complete mess. “You have to help me. She's a lunatic.”

“What happened?” you asked quietly.

“My step mom, she just freaked out, screamed at me, beat me. Chained me up,” she explained, sniffling.

“Where is she now?” you asked. 

“I don't know.”

You looked up at a shadow behind you to see the little girl with dark hair peeking out from behind the kitchen door. When she noticed you saw her, she turned and left. 

You turned back to the teenager and told her you’d be right back, and she nodded. 

You walked into the living room, and the little girl was gone. 

Discouraged, you turned around to go back to the kitchen. Surprisingly, the girl was standing just behind you. 

“Who are you?” you asked. 

She said nothing, simply looking at you with sad eyes, and then she disappeared again. You looked down where she stood to find a red apple. “Hi, Snow.”

***

You sat on the hood of the Impala next to Dean, who played with the apple. Sam headed up to you with his hands in his pockets. “Paramedics picked up Cinderella,” he said. 

“That's good,” Dean said. He tossed the apple to Sam. 

“So, looks like my Snow White theory checks out,” you noted. 

“Snow White? Ah, I saw that movie. Or the porn version anyway; 'cause there was this wicked stepmother? Woo, she was wicked,” Dean grinned. 

You lightly slapped his shoulder and gave a warning glare. “There is an evil stepmother. And she tries to kill Snow White with a poison apple. But the apple doesn’t kill her; she just falls into a deep sleep. So it’s like she’s dead.”

Sam tossed the apple to you, and you took out your knife. You sliced a piece of the apple off, and the apple began to ooze an acid-like fluid into your hand. You threw it to the ground, mumbling, “Gross.”

***

Once back at the hospital, the nurse informed you there were no comatose little girls. All of their comatose patients were either old men or Callie, who was around sixteen years old. 

“Yeah, it's so sad,” the nurse explained. “And poor Dr. Garrison, he just… won't give up on her.”

“Is Callie one of his patients?” Sam asked. 

She shook her head. “No. His daughter.”

Exchanging a brief glance with Sam, you and the Winchesters politely thanked the nurse before heading to Callie’s room. Sadly, you looked on as Dr. Garrison read a book to his daughter. 

Squinting at the book, you were able to make out the book he was reading to her was Little Red Riding Hood.

Dr. Garrison then noticed you were there and stepped outside the room to talk to you. “Detectives. Can I help you?”

“We just... heard that Callie is your daughter,” Dean said.

“And we wanted to say how very sorry we are,” Sam finished. 

Dr. Garrison cleared his throat. “Well, uh. Thank you. If you'll excuse me.”

“Oh, heading this way?” Dean quirked a brow. “We'll walk with you. How long's Callie been like that?”

“We don't mean to intrude,” you clarified. 

“We can't possibly understand how hard it must be for you seeing her like this,” Sam added. 

The doctor sighed. “It's not easy. She's uh, been here since she was eight years old.”

“That's when she was poisoned?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah. Swallowed, uh, bleach,” he explained. “Never figured out how she got her hands on the bottle. My wife found her, uh, brought her to the ER here and I was on call.”

“Your wife was uh, was that Callie's stepmother?” Dean asked. 

Dr. Garrison stopped walking and looked at Dean strangely. “Actually, yes. How'd you know that?”

The older brother shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

“Well, Julie was the only mother that uh, Callie ever knew. My wife passed away last year and, uh… it's just my daughter and me now.” He paused for a moment, becoming quite choked up. “She's all I've got left. Um, excuse me. I've gotta get back to work.”

You watched as the doctor moved down the hall, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. 

Sam tapped you to turn you around and led you and Dean back down the hall. 

“Well, you're right. It's Snow White in spades,” Dean said to you. “Yep. Step-mom poisons the girl, puts her into a deep sleep. What's the motive, you think?” 

“Could be like Mischa Barton. Sixth Sense, not the O.C.,” Dean corrected himself.

Sam seemed confused. “What?”

“Hey, you know fairy tales, I know movies,” Dean commented. “She played the pasty ghost. You know the, uh, remember the mom had that thing you know, where you keep the kid sick so you get all the attention?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, uh, Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy. Huh, could be.”

“So, say all these years, Callie's been suffering silently because nobody knows the truth about what mommy dearest did?”

“And after all this time her spirit just gets angrier and angrier, until it finally just starts lashing out.”

“I’d be pretty pissed to if I was sixteen and still having to listen to my dad read me fuckin’ fairytales,” you added. “It's enough to drive anybody nuts.”

“Okay, but how are we gonna stop her?” Sam questioned. “I mean, Callie's stuck here; her father's keeping her body alive.”

“It does make it a bit hard to burn the bones,” Dean mumbled.

“Ya think?” you deadpanned. 

“Coming in!” Someone called from the double doors across the hall from you. You watched as EMTs rushed an old woman in on a stretcher. “Seventy-two year old female, sustained multiple lacerations and puncture wounds. BP is eighty over forty and falling. Sinus tachycardia.”

“Is that a bite?” a doctor asked. 

“Looks like she was mauled by a mad dog or, maybe a wolf?”

“What was the last story Dr. Garrison was reading Callie?” Dean asked rhetorically. 

You answered anyway. “Good ole Little Red.”

***

The three of you hung around asking the EMTs and policemen that had responded to the scene questions after the grandmother had been pronounced dead. You found out from the policemen that the woman had a granddaughter. 

“I’ll stay here,” you told the boys in a hushed voice. “You two go stop the Big Bad Wolf.” You handed the paper with the address of the granddaughter’s home on it over to Dean, who nodded. 

“What about you?” Sam asked. 

“I’m gonna try to stop Callie,” you said. 

Both boys seemed to understand what you meant, even though you weren’t quite sure how to handle this properly yourself. 

You immediately set to work searching the corridors for Dr. Garrison. Finally, you found him. “Hi! I need to speak with you,” you announced, approaching him. 

“Detective. What can I do for you?” he asked. 

“There’s no easy way to say this, but it’s about Callie,” you said sheepishly. 

“My daughter? What about her?” The doctor furrowed his brows at you. 

“What happened to Callie wasn’t an accident,” you explained. “And Callie’s been trying to tell you that.”

“I don’t have time for this. Stay the hell away from me and my daughter.” Dr. Garrison stormed away from you and toward Callie’s room. 

You followed, hot on his heels. “Think about it, man, how’d she get her hands on the bleach? Why would she drink so much of something like that?” You slipped into the room behind the doctor as he reached for the phone on the wall. 

“I’m calling security.”

You clamped your hand over the phone to stop him. “Nope. You’re smart. Think about it. If you don’t listen to me, Callie’s gonna hurt somebody else.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” the doctor cried. 

“You're gonna think I'm crazy,” you sighed, “but just understand me. Your daughter Callie is still here. She's a spirit.”

Dr. Garrison’s panic suddenly calmed, and he turned to his daughter’s bed sadly. “So you've seen her too.”

You were shocked. “Wait, you called me a lunatic, and you’ve been seeing her, too?”

“I sensed her,” Dr. Garrison sniffed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Callie. Her presence, her scent. I even saw her standing at the foot of my bed but I never believed it, I thought I was dreaming, I—” 

You shook your head. “Not a dream. She looks like she did when she was eight, right? She’s been trying to talk to you.” Dr. Garrison sighed. “You're not a cop are you?”

You shook your head again, pursing your lips together. 

“Then, who are you?”

“Meh, I know a thing or two about this stuff,” you shrugged. “And I also know that your wife was the one to do this to Callie.”

“And how the hell would you know that?!”

“Because Callie told me,” you replied simply. “What?!” Dr. Garrison exclaimed. “My wife loved Callie. So how is— how is that possible?”

“I don’t know. But it is,” you said. 

He got up from the bed and began to pace. “No. No I— I don't believe you.”

“Look, dude, believe whatever you want. But your daughter’s pissed. And rightfully so. Nobody’s listening to her. Listen to your damn daughter.”

Dr. Garrison took a deep breath, then nodded. “Callie? Callie, it's Daddy,” he called into the room. “It's me, Daddy. Is it true? Mommy did that to you? I–I know I wasn't listening before, but I'm listening now. Daddy's here. Please honey, is– is there any way that you can tell me?” 

The doctor looked back at you, and you nodded to the space beside him where Callie’s spirit stood.

Dr. Garrison turned, and tears immediately flooded his eyes at the sight of his child. “Is it true?”

Callie’s spirit nodded.

“Oh— I'm so sorry, baby. But listen to me,” Dr. Garrison begged through his tears. “You gotta stop what you're doing, okay? You're hurting people. I know everything now. I know the truth. It's time for you to let go. It's time for me to let you go.” He turned back to the body in the hospital bed. The doctor leaned down to the girl and caressed her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he cried. 

Callie’s monitor flatlined. 

***

That night, as Dean slept soundly in your shared bed, you were sat at the table by the window; the journal in front of you only illuminated by the moonlight. 

You paperclipped the sketch you’d done for the surviving construction worker of the man who’d attacked him and his brothers into your journal next to the spot where you wrote your latest excerpt. 

“As much as I hate to admit it,” you inked, “some part of me believes everything happens for a reason. I’m not big on the whole ‘faith’ thing, but I’ve always thought that. And I can’t help but wonder if Callie’s case is, like, some sort of astral allegory to my situation with Dean. Maybe I’m supposed to let him go. Maybe he was just supposed to be with me for a short time, and I’m supposed to just move on.

“And that fucking sucks. And I can’t accept that. It’s weird; a lot of the cases I work parallel my actual life. And I frequently try to ignore that fact. But this one is really just beating me over the head with possible ‘hidden meaning.’ 

“But then, I think, if everything happens for a reason, and nothing is coincidence, then somebody’s gotta be pulling the strings here, right? Some sort of fucked-up cosmic being is using my life for his twisted entertainment. It’s using Dean going to hell for the sake of a good fucking storyline or something stupid like that. I don’t understand. I thought ‘god’s plan’ was supposed to be good? I thought he had ‘intentions to prosper us, never to harm us’?

“Anyway. I feel like I’ve thoroughly hashed out my feelings on religion too many times before. At this point, I’m completely over the concept of god. If he is real, I hope he fucking chokes.”

You put your pen down when a blinding light abruptly hit the corner of your eye. You opened the curtains a little more to see the Impala beginning to move out of the parking lot. 

Sam had driven you and Dean back from the hospital, and he brought the keys with him to his room. You assumed that was no accident. 

“What are you doing, Samuel,” you muttered, staring after the car.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

Rain pounded down, drumming on the roof and the metal hood of the cars sitting parked in front of the house.

Darry sat on the porch, sipping at the beer in his hand. It was one of those spring nights, humid but not hot, that heralded the coming summer. The air was thick with the petrichor scent of the rain.

Thick streams of water rushed towards the drains, inevitably stopped up with dead leaves and sticks. What little grass the yard had was completely covered by the never-ending water.

Though he sat under the cover of the eaves, Darry still found himself getting damp. But he didn’t go inside.

The power inside kept flickering, making it impossible to watch anything on the tv so the gang had settled in for a Hold ‘Em tournament. Darry didn’t usually participate in their card games, tonight was no exception. A strange melancholy came over him, driving him to the solitude of the porch.

Darry took another sip of his beer. It was his dad’s favorite brand. They’d all grown up seeing him drink it and when he and Two-Bit started partaking, they drank it too. Any other beer just didn’t taste right to him.

There came an uproar from inside, causing Darry to look over his shoulder in time to see Soda bursting outside, yells following after him. Darry leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow at his little brother.

Soda just rolled his eyes, “They said I was putting queens in my sock.”

“Were you?”

Soda grinned and tore off his left sock. Two cards fell to the porch, one queen of diamonds, the other a joker with the words QUEEN OF CLUBS written on it in marker. They’d lost the original card years ago.

Darry laughed, “That’s what I thought. You wanna sit until they let you back in?”

Soda nodded eagerly and took the chair beside Darry. Soda didn’t drink much, but he took a sip of Darry’s beer then, for once not gagging at the taste. Soda let his eyes fall closed as he inhaled the thick air.

“This is my favorite time of year,” Soda said.

Darry scoffed, “Yeah? See if you say that on laundry day. I bet there’ll be about a gallon of mud in the hamper.”

Soda shrugged, “I don’t mind.” He kicked his feet up on the railing, immediately getting his other sock soaked with the overflow from the gutter. Soda didn’t move them.

There was a time when Darry was jealous of Soda, of how he could walk through life so care free. It seemed like his heart was so light, that nothing could ever weigh him down. Darry should have known better; he didn’t really know how wrong he was until after they lost their folks.

The rain always made Darry think too hard.

The brothers were silent, letting the rain fill the space between them. Soda kept his feet sticking in the rain until the water started dripping down his legs. As Soda rid himself of the second sock he asked, “Dar, are you happy?”

“What?”

Soda shrugged, “I dunno.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. He was strong, nearly as strong as Darry now. “I’m almost eighteen, if you wanted me to take Ponyboy so you can go to college or move or somethin’, I would.”

And wasn’t that a thought?

After so long of feeling like he was drowning in responsibility, Soda was giving him an out. The smallest part of Darry wanted to take it, but the rest of him knew that he would never put Soda through the stress on his shoulders.

Darry squeezed Soda’s shoulder, “Nah, I’m happy.”

Soda looked at him with disbelief, his eyes somehow always able to slip past any mask Darry put up. Sometimes Sodapop was really annoying like that. “You don’t seem happy most of the time.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Darry began. He took a long drink to pull his thoughts together. “Most of the time, I’m stressed and I’m scared. But I’m also happy because me feeling like that means that you and Ponyboy don’t have to.”

“Oh.”

“I decided to put the two of you first for the rest of my life and that’s how it’s gonna stay.”

Soda clearly didn’t like that, “But you should be happy too. You should get to hang out with your friends and-and find a girl and-”

Soda was getting himself all worked up. It was something the three Curtis boys had in common. Their dad would say they were full to the brim with emotions and trying to release them but only tying themselves in knots.

Darry put a hand on the back of Soda’s head, “It’s okay, Pepsi. It’s not like I hate my life.” Not anymore at least. “I love you and your brother and our weird ass friends.” Soda laughed a little. “You’re acting like I’m an old man, I’m only twenty one, asshole.”

Soda laughed heartily then, looking over at his brother. Darry gave him a soft smile. Soda’s heart was too big for his damn chest. “You get me?” Darry asked.

Soda nodded, “I just don’t want you to look back at your life and regret this.”

That made Darry laugh. Seeing the hurt look on Soda’s face, Darry kissed his head. “Honey, I ain’t ever gonna regret taking care of you and your brother. Yeah y’all piss me off sometimes and Ponyboy is real good at getting under my skin and if you leave your wet towel on the floor of the bathroom one more time-”

Soda shoved Darry’s shoulder, “Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Their laughter died down, the silence filled again with the pouring rain. “Would you tell me if you weren’t happy?”

“Yeah.”

Soda rolled his eyes, “Liar.”

Before they could keep talking, the front door banged open again and Ponyboy stood there, pulling at Soda’s shoulder, “Come on, we’re doing teams now and I don’t wanna be stuck with Ace again.”

“Hey!” The girl in question shouted from inside. “You would be lucky to have me!”

Soda laughed and let their baby brother pull him to his feet. Soda looked back at Darry, “Sounds like Ace needs a partner. Let’s go.”

Darry smiled and stood up, “Ace girl, we gonna hustle them or what?”

“Pretty sure you ain’t supposed to announce when you hustle,” Ponyboy pointed out, earning himself a cuff on the back of the head from his big brother. Darry couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, he was happy.

[mj0702]

@helen-with-an-a ... I hope you like it

“Jorge.... Sophie... Lucy!!” Diane yelled from the Kitchen towards the yard where her three children were playing.

Lucy and Jorge were fighting over the old football laughing and shoving each other while Sophie sat on one of the lounge chairs reading a book.

“JORGE!!! SOPHIE!! LUCIA!!” Diane yelled again her voice more strict

“Yeah mum?” Sophie answered on behalf of all three

“Dinner will be ready in 10” the Bronze family leader said grateful that at least one of her children reacted

“Okay” Sophie said and stood up to interrupt her siblings play by kicking the ball to the other side of the yard

“The fuck Soph??” Lucy looked at her younger sister in disbelieve

“Mum said dinner is ready” the youngest Bronze said dismissively turning around heading towards the house

“She just could've said so” Jorge grumbled as he started to walk towards the house “Oh Luce... you need a better stand... root yourself into the ground then the other player can't shove you over”

“Yeah I know... I still have to work on that” Lucy sighed “I just don't know how”

“You need to find your balance” the oldest Bronze said as the two of them entered the kitchen through the garden door

“I don't think so... shoes off” Diane immediately stopped the two pointing outside again

“Sorry Mum” Lucy quickly retreated kicking her shoes off in front of the door

“No you're not...” Diane grinned at her teenage daughter “The only thing the two of you are interested in is football”

“I'm gonna win you the Champions League one day Mum...” Lucy smiled at her mother

“For that women need to step up and play real ball” Jorge threw in and the second he said it Lucy already jumped on his back choking him

“Take it back” Lucy grunted from above as her brother started to spin around to get rid of her

“Never in a million years... you girls are to fragile to play real ball” Jorge choked out

“Stop roughhousing you two... dinner is ready” Diane interrupted her children strictly “Go sit down”

“Yes Mum” Jorge and Lucy said simultaneously as Lucy slipped of Jorges back

“Okay... Your mom and I have to tell you something” Joaquim said grabbing the hand of his wife after dinner

“Oh my god... you're getting divorced... I knew it...” Sophie blurted out shocked hitting Lucys shoulder repeatedly “... I told you... something is weird... I TOLD you!!”

“Sophie... Sweetheart...” Joaquim said softly “.... I promise we're not getting divorced”

“You can stop hitting me now” Lucy said dryly

“But something is WEIRD” Sophie exclaimed

“Weird is the wrong word Soph...” Diane smiled “... try... different”

“Different how?” Jorge asked confused

“I'm pregnant...” Diane said softly her hand finding her stomach resting on it lightly

“WHAT??!!” all three Bronze children exclaimed

“Pregnant??” Jorge asked

“From dad??” Lucy asked confused

“With a baby??” Sophie shook her head “I'm not giving up my room... I JUST got it... I don't want to share a room with Lucy again... she snores”

“I do not snore... you snore” Lucy shoved her sister

“To answer all of your questions” Joaquim interrupted his children “... yes... to all of them.. pregnant... with a baby... it's mine... all of you are going to be big siblings once again... congrats Soph... you're going to be a first time big sister – well done me”

“Oh ew DAD” Sophie exclaimed disgusted which caused Joaquim and Diane to laugh

“Mom... I'm home...” Lucy yelled into the quiet house when she came home from school “... I tell you... Tracey Gellar is a full grown bi.. mom?? are you okay?”

Lucy quickly made her way over to her Mom who was clutching to the kitchen counter holding her belly her face scrunched up in pain

“It'll be okay in a second... your sibling decided to kick me into the rips again” Diane wheezed out “I tell you know Lucy... they be a better footballer then you one day – you didn't kick as much”

“Hey Bubs...” Lucy said softly kneeling next to her mums belly “... I told you not to kick Mum so much... I told you she's the only one who knows how to took... we need her around... we'll all starve... or get food poisoning from Dads food”

Diane chuckled at her daughters words and her heart swell with pride at how Lucy adapt to the situation and how gentle she was when it came to the unborn child. She did most of the chores around the house now. The cleaning, the laundry or whatever arises – Lucy stepped up and took over. Except for the cooking. Lucy tried – she really did. But she wasn't made for cooking. Or frying. Or cutting. So Diane kept her monopole in the kitchen. She cooked and her children did the dishes and Lucy normally stayed longer to clean the whole kitchen. On top of that Lucy had school and homework and football. Diane was so proud of her middle child

“You always manage to calm them down..” Diane smiled as she stroke through Lucys hair

“Her mum... she's a girl” Lucy said firmly

“We don't know that Luce... I told you we want it to be a surprise” Diane smiled at her daughters words

“I know Mum... I just know...” the middle Bronze smiled back

“You have a name then?” Diane asked softly as she pushed herself upright again

“Y/n... Y/n Tough Bronze” Lucy smiled

“That's a beautiful name Lucy... I'm very proud of you” Diane smiled while Lucy got her a glass of water

“Lucy... I trust you to keep an eye on Mum okay... I'll be gone for about three hours” Joaquim said seriously while Jorge and Sophie got in the car already

“Don't worry Dad... I got it” Lucy waved off

“Good... if anything happens...” Joaquim started

“All numbers on the fridge... first call Ambulance, then you... not the other way around” Lucy rattled off what her father drilled into her head

“Good... you're a good daughter Lucy... I love you” Joaquim smiled

“Love you too Dad” Lucy smiled back

“Okay Mum... you need anything?” the middle Bronze asked her highly pregnant mother

“No Lucy thank you...” Diane sighed trying to get more comfortable “... could you please stop moving?”

“She's being difficult again?” Lucy chuckled

“Yes... she's going to be a handful Lucy I tell ya...” Diane groaned

“Don't worry Mum... you've got Dad.. and me... and... yeah no.. I wouldn't trust Jorge with a baby... he's clumsy...” Lucy said thinking about her siblings and their ability to look after a new born which made Diane chuckle

“I know Luce... but it's not your responsibility to look after a new born... you have to study Lucy...” Diane said gratefully

“I don't see it as responsibility Mum...” Lucy smiled “... I see it as protecting someone I love”

“Lucy” Diane said a little louder to get her daughters attention but she got no response

“LUCY” the head of the family yelled

“Yeah??” Lucy opened the door of her vacation home room

“Would you come here please?” Diane said feeling another twinge in her belly region

“What's up Mum?” Lucy padded down the hallway a cereal bar in her hand

“I need you to stay calm now and call the ambulance” Diane said calmly knowing exactly what's happening – after giving birth three times already

“What??” Lucy asked dumb folded a little piece of cereal bar falling out of her mouth

“Call an ambulance Lucy” Diane pressed out clutching her side

“You mean... but it's too early... she has another four weeks to bake” Lucy said panicky

“Lucy... sweetheart... darling...” Diane said soothingly “... calm down.. I know you're getting scared but I did this before... just call the ambulance okay sweetheart?”

“Yeah... yeah I can do that...” Lucy stammered pulling her phone out of her pocket “... wait... bag”

“Bag comes later... Ambulance... Bag... Dad” Diane said calmly

“Okay... Ambulance...” Lucy took a deep breath

“Lucy” the middle Bronze heard her name being called down the hospital corridor and as she lifted her head she saw her Dad and two siblings running towards her

“Hey Dad” Lucy said lowly

“You did perfectly Babygirl” Joaquim mumbled as he pulled his daughter into a hug

“You maybe should look for Mum Dad...” Lucy mumbles against her Dads shoulder “... they wouldn't tell me a lot but I heard one of the nurses that she's apparently “pretty far along”... whatever that means”

“I'll tell you one day I promise” Joaquim winked “Your aunt will pick you lot up soon okay... I'll call you later before bed okay?”

“Can I stay Dad?” Lucy begged with big eyes “Please”

“Lucy...” Joaquim sighed “... this could take hours... the whole night even”

“I don't care Dad... please” Lucy begged again and Joaquim had no choice than to falter under the puppy eyes

“You want to stay as well?” Joaquim asked his other children

“No thanks Dad... I have a game tomorrow” Jorge said and Sophie shook her head as well

“Okay... go get yourself something to eat Luce... something useful – not a chocolate from the vending machine” Joaquim sighed and pulled some bills out of his pocket

“Thanks Dad” Lucy smiled happily

“Lucy... hey Lucy” Joaquim shook his daughter carefully awake who fell asleep in the plastic chairs in the waiting area

“Hm?? What time is it?” Lucy mumbled tiredly

“3.25AM... Come on Luce... time to meet someone knew” Joaquim said softly chuckling at the sight of Lucys eyes flying open

“She's here?” Lucy sat up quickly rubbing the sleep out of her eyes

“Come on...” Joaquim said lovingly taking his daughters hand pulling her up and towards the room Diane and the newest Bronze were placed in

“Lucy... meet Y/n Lucia Tough Bronze... your sister...” Joaquim said keeping his voice low pushing Lucy gently forward

“Hi Bubs...” Lucy chocked out happy tears spilling out of her eyes looking down at you in your plastic container like bed “... hi”

“You can touch her Lucy... but gently... she's not Jorge” Diane smiled tiredly from her bed seeing how Lucy retreated her hand a few times not daring to touch you

“She's so small...” Lucy whispered “... I'm going to hurt her”

“You won't Luce...” Joaquim said smiling softly as he pushed his daughter down on a chair simply lifting you out of the hospital basinet and placing you unceremonially in Lucys arms

“Dad!” Lucy squeaked shocked when she found a little bundle in her arms

“Lucy... the two of you already share a special bond... that's why we decided to give her your name – whatever happens I... we... we know you'll always take care of her and will protect her with your life” Joaquim said soothingly “So say hi to your sister.... born at 2.15AM, 6lb 3oz, 18.8 inches... she's a little small but I can tell you she has a good pair of lungs on her”

“I will...” Lucy whispered looking down at you as you opened your eyes staring up at your big sister right into her eyes “... I promise Bubs... I protect you... I'll keep all bad things away from you... mostly Jorge... I swear he's manky... he doesn't wash his hands after using the toilette most of the times... I won't let him touch you”

“I told you... these two are a perfect match” Diane whispered towards her husband who sat down on the bed next to her observing how Lucy talked to you quietly

“Just wait till Lucy wants to go out and has a three year old attached to her leg...” Joaquim chuckled back also watching the two of you fondly

“Hey Bubs...” Lucy said tiredly as she walked into your nursery “... what's with the screaming?”

Lucy looked in your crib where you where crying and fussing your head red a little sweat forming on your forehead

“I checked on you two hours ago...” Lucy mumbled “... you were snoring”

“Oh you so were... don't try to deny it” Lucy said after you let out a particular loud scream “... you got that from Dad... he always snores when he falls asleep watching the Telly”

“Oh really.... I don't think so” your sister said like you actually answered her as she lifted you up and laid you against her chest your head on her shoulder “... okay... why so upset?”

You calmed down a little bit feeling the familiar skin of Lucys neck, smelling her scent and hearing her soothing voice

“Hungry?” Lucy asked you starting to rock you gently “Okay... not hungry... change? Please say no...”

“Okay... that's good” your sister said after she took a quick sniff and sniffed.. nothing “... if you have colic again I'm going to shoot meself...”

“Lucy??” Joaquim asked tiredly entering the nursery “What are you doing?”

“She was crying... I've got it Dad... you can go back to bed” Lucy said shrugging her shoulders

“It's not your job Luce...” your Dad said to your sister

“She's not a job Dad...” Lucy said seriously “... and I don't mind...”

“Hand her over Luce... go back to bed... you have school tomorrow” Joaquim said holding out his hands to take you from Lucy

“No Dad it's okay... she nearly calm again” Lucy turned away from your Dad basically hogging you

“If she hasn't calmed down in 10 Minutes you bring her to our bedroom...” your father said strictly but left knowing he had no chance taking you away from your sister

“Heard that Bubs... you need to tell me what's bothering you” Lucy mumbled as you slightly hick up against your shoulder “... don't tell me you woke me up because you missed me presence”

Lucys quiet constant talking send you back into a semi-sleepy state which held until Lucy was about to lay you down again and you lost the familiar contact. Immediately you started to fuss again and Lucy groaned knowing what it meant

“Yeah okay... you can sleep in me bed... but I'll tell you know... when I have a relationship you sleep in your own room” Lucy huffed (oh boy was she in for a reality check – the two long-term girlfriends loved you just as much and more often then not you ended up in their bed anyway)

“Keira... this is Y/n... my sister... she's good on her feet... just a little slow” Lucy said apologetic as you held onto her finger tightly while she introduced you to the woman who sat at the table

“Hi Y/n” the blonde smiled kindly down at you and you decided she had pretty eyes and funny ears

“Come on Missy... you made me late already” Lucy sighed lifting you onto a chair next to her and you immediately tried to flee again

“Oh no... you stay” your sister said quickly pulling you up into a sitting position again “No running about”

You made your feelings about it known starting to cry loudly and Lucy pinched the bridge of her nose

“I'm so sorry” Lucy said to Keira while stuffing your pacifier into your mouth trying to silence you “... I didn't want to bring her but she had a whole meltdown when I started to leave so I rushed to get her in some decent clothes and then of course she wanted to walk by herself from the car and because I rushed to get her ready I don't have anything with me to entertain her... I'm so so sorry”

“Oh god no please don't be sorry...” Keira chuckled seeing how you try to spit the paci out again just for Lucy holding it in place professionally “... we can take a walk if you want.. maybe that would suit her better”

“No...” Lucy said quickly “... I haven't had time to eat and I'm so SO hungry”

This made Keira burst out laughing and you looked at the blonde like she lost it – even in your young age you couldn't control your face. Years later it would become a running joke within the Lionesses that your face was the subtitles of your emotions.

“Okay... then let's order?” the blonde laughed

“No Bubs... that's my... okay...” Lucy huffed as you climbed on her lap from your chair “... can you please at least act like you have mann... no... no hands on the salmon”

“I'm sorry but she's just too adorable...” Keira laughed seeing how Lucy struggled to eat AND keep you out of her plate

“Yeah well we can switch if you like... she's a big fan of pasta” Lucy grumbled as she pried your hand open to remove the peas you squished in there

“You have it fully under control... I don't want to disturb your routine” the blonde chuckled and Lucy suddenly grinned darkly at her company

“Hey Bubs... look... Keira has pasta with tomatoes sauce” your sister pointed at the other plate you didn't realized was there but now that Lucy pointed it out you became big eyes and immediately started to climb over to Keiras lap

“Really??” Keira said unimpressed adjusting her hold on you “Using her so you can eat in peace?”

“Told you... big pasta fan” Lucy said her mouth full with her meal

“Okay little Bit... slowly okay?” the blonde said softly holding her fork out for you to eat the two noodles she picked up for you

“There we go... good girl” Keira praised you after you held still for her to feed you the pasta and started to chew slowly

“Are you brat serious??” Lucy asked outraged “You smashing my food but behave for her?”

“What can I say... I have a way with kids” the blonde winked already feeding you another fork full of pasta

“Unbelievable” Lucy grumbled but then smirked “... I might have to keep you around then”

“You might have to do that” Keira smirked back holding her glass of water for you to have a sip

“Bitsy come on... we're late” Keira yelled down the hallway

“I can't find my shin guards!” you yelled back and a second later a pair of t-shirts flew out of your room into the corridor

“Kid...” the blonde sighed rolling her eyes

“FOUND THEM” you yelled but your voice was uncharacteristically low

“Then let's go!” Keira yelled again

“Can't... I'm stuck” you whined “Kei.. help”

“It's like living with Pinky and Brain... with me being stuck with Pinky” the blonde rolled her eyes already on her way to your room and couldn't help but laugh at the sight she was greeted with

“Don't laugh... help me” you whined from under the bed one of the posts broken trapping you successfully

“How did you manage to break your bed Bitsy?” Keira chuckled as she easily lifted the bed so you could rob out from under it

“I used the post as leverage to get to the second shin guard and pushed against it and it just... broke” you pouted

“We'll fix it later..” the blonde ruffled your hair lovingly before she ushered you towards the car driving the both of you to the Man City trainings ground

“Good job everyone...” Nick clapped his hands being happy with the training his team just ended “Tomorrow we work on some Midfield – Defence connection”

“That connection works perfectly already” Steph Houghton laughed shoving Lucy towards Keira with Lucy trying to be smooth and trying to keep upright by flinging her arm over her girlfriends shoulder just to keep on stumbling when Keira took a step to the side

“Thanks for catching me Walsh” Lucy huffed from the ground where she laid on her back shooting Keira a playful glare

“Always my pleasure Bronze” the blonde smirked back spraying Lucy with her water bottle when suddenly a painful scream echoed through the grounds

“LUCY!!” Keira yelled after her girlfriend who shot off the ground sprinting down the field already jumping the first barrier

“Fuck...” Steph swore under her breath taking off as well “... come on Kei... move... if it what I think it is I need you there... the rest of you.. hit the showers and go home”

“But what..” the blonde asked confused when she heard a cry immediately knowing it was you – this time Keira sprinted off in the same direction Lucy did but instead of jumping barriers she took the official exit

“It's okay Bubs...” Lucy panted as soon as she reached you getting down on her knees next to your upper body “... I'm here... I'm here... it's okay”

“Lucy” you cried out clutching your knee

“It's okay Bubs...” Lucy crouched down even further her hand on your cheek her thumb whiping away the tears that were already streaming down your face

“I felt it rip Luce...” you cried “... I tore it again”

“No Bubs... no you didn't” your sister quickly said but both of you knew she was lying “... you just twisted it...”

“I'm not stupid Luce...” you tried to hide in your sisters side from all the prying eyes “... I know what it feels like”

“Bitsy” Keira came to a scrambling halt on your other side “... It's going to be okay... we got it okay...”

“It hurts” you cried as your sister pressed soft kissed to your forehead now basically laying next to you

“I know... medics are nearly here” Keira said softly her hand placed on yours holding your knee still so you wouldn't hurt it further “... just breath Bitsy okay... Copy Lucys breathing”

“Lucy??” Dr. Wimmer asked when he entered the waiting area

“Yeah?” Lucy looked up from her hands still in her trainings kit

“There's no easy way...” the young dark haired doctor said

“Just say it Teddy...” your sister knew what was coming – she has known the second she saw you on the ground

“I can repair it...” the orthopaedic surgeon said “... but there's no way this knee will hold the pressure of a professional career”

“Did you tell her?” Lucy asked quietly

“No... I thought I'll tell you first because she'll need you” the doctor said

“I'll tell her...” your sister said firmly standing up

“Okay... she's in the same room” the dark haired woman said her face apologetic

“Okay...” your sister huffed turning around to a silently crying Keira “... I need you in there too...”

“Give me a minute” Keira took a deep breath before standing up herself “okay... let's get it over with”

“Hey Bubs” Lucy carefully opened the door finding you staring out the window

“Hey... Bubs” your sister said again softly trying to get your attention feeling Keira taking her hand squeezing it supporting

“Again, hm...” you said monotone your voice raspy from all the crying

“Yeah... I'm so...” Lucy said coming closer to your bed Keira right behind her

“It's okay... shit happens right?” you chuckled humourlessly “Another round of physio and learning to walk again...”

“I'll be with you every step of the way Bubs” your sister said quietly “... like always”

“I know it's over Luce...” for the first time you looked at her and Lucy felt her heart shatter into a million pieces with the empty look you had in your eyes “... no player ever came back from three ACLs”

“But you will Bubs... we'll help you get back...” Lucy said quickly but again the two of you knew she was lying

“It's okay Luce...” you sighed your voice emotionless as you turned your head to look out of the window again “... some things are just not meant to be”

[kisskisstine]

Once Upon a Time in Fairywood - Chapter 3

3 - Peri, fairy godparent! Unemployed

Go to Index | Chapter 2 <- Previous | Next -> Chapter 4

>>Read Chapter 3 on AO3<<

Fanfic Summary: Once Upon a Time in Fairywood, FOPANW fanfic featuring the pop idol and actress Goldie Goldenglow and Peri (the unemployed), featuring Irep (super employed), as they run away from the Fairywood award festivities and explore the city altogether!

Chapter 3 Summary: Peri, just having lost Dev as a godkid, bums his parents home unemployed and regretful of his first time being a fairy godparent and failing terribly. His parents, Wanda & Cosmo gets him a surprise retreat to help him out of his rut!

Read Once Upon a Time in Fairywood on AO3.

--

The lazy afternoon sun in Fairy World creeped gently through the windows of the Cosma-Fairywinkle household’s starry-pink wallpaper, whimsical decor, and onto the sleepy eyes of Peri Cosma-Fairywinkle, lying on his parent’s couch wrapped in a knitted throw blanket that had stitchings of nickels sewn into it.

He just woke up from a nap dream… lots of flashing light… there was a blonde girl?  Butterflies? Whatever dreams are dreams.

He shrugged it off, picked up the TV remote and mindlessly flicked through TV channels with empty bowls of cereal sitting on the floor beneath him. His purple hair, usually pristine, was unkempt and ruffled wearing the same pajamas he slept in the night before. It’s been days since he lost his job as a fairy godparent to Dev Dimmadome, the spoiled rich, red-headed brat who upended Fairy World world just for his dad’s attention (and still didn’t get it)! Sure, the kid almost got him to explode from magical backup, but it wasn’t all Dev’s fault was it? He was a lonely kid after all. Peri granted his wishes, right? He did his job, didn’t he? That’s all he was supposed to do! Either way, it’s over, right? It’s over. Peri should be happy. But lying there flicking through Fairywood Awards commercials, there was something about it that just didn’t sit right with Peri. At first, he was glad to be rid of Dev. Riding off into the sunset with Hazel, Antony, Jasmine, Winn and his parents– free of that little brat! But as time went on, that small uncomfortable feeling turned into a rotten churning at his core, that no amount of cereal or random daytime TV show can cure. Ah, but maybe TV could cure me, he thought as he progressed to flicking through channels in pure apathy.

“Peri, son? Are you still on the couch?” Wanda, Peri’s pink-haired mother entered the house, carrying a couple bags of groceries of mostly sweets. She layed out the sweets on the coffee table in front of Peri. Her husband Cosmo, a green-haired man in a green bowling shirt and slacks, and her godkid Hazel, a young 10-year old girl in a striped pink and blue shirt followed closely behind her, her purple backpack on, having just returned home from school.

“Son! We got chocolates for you!” Cosmo exclaimed. “Well… your mother got them for you.”

“Yeah but we also got carrot sticks too!” Hazel exclaimed running up to Peri on the couch and offered him a carrot stick from a plastic pouch. He took it meekly and thanked her. Hazel sighed, sat on the couch with him, took the remote to put the volume down as more commercials about the Fairywood awards rolled, and rested her small hand on his shoulder. “Sorry Peri, I haven’t seen Dev since Fairy World. He hasn’t returned to school. I don’t know–”

“Haha! Dev?! Who cares about him? I obviously don’t, hahaha!” Peri exclaimed and continued to laugh frantically. “Look! I’m doing absolutely fine! I didn’t just screw up my first godkid by completely ignoring his real feelings and not addressing his clear need for parental love at all! Ahaha! I gave him all he wished for, right?! That’s what I was suppose to do, right? I did great! Ahahaha!” 

Peri continued to laugh nervously, as Wanda, Cosmo and Hazel were taken aback in shock.

“Sweetie pie,” Wanda interjected cautiously. “We love you and we know you did your best. Your father and I were thinking that maybe it’s best that you take a vacation from this all.”

“Wait– you’re not kicking me out are you?” Peri asked.

“I mean, technically we are but–,” Cosmo answered with a smile, putting all the empty bowls of cereal together, only to dropped them all as Peri shrieked in the idea of getting kicked out!

“Cosmo!,” Wanda interjected after her husband. “No no, we just think you had a real doozy of a godkid as your first time godparenting and you need some time to relax.”

“Yeah! And maybe get your mind off Dev for a bit and take care of yourself!”, Hazel stated nervously but with an assuring smile.

“I’m already relaxed! And I don’t think of Dev at all! Nope! Not one thought of it!” Peri exclaimed frantically again, as Hazel, Wanda, and Cosmo rolled their eyes at him, clearly judging him in his pajamas from the morning, surrounded by empty cereal bowls, and just having woken up from napping in front of the TV until the afternoon. A silence filled the air, until Peri couldn’t keep pretending anymore. “Fine… maybe you’re all right. I do need to get some air maybe…”

“It’s be great for you, son! Your mother and I already booked an amazing place for you!” Cosmo exclaimed pulling out his wand, poofed Peri into a full vacation outfit, Hawaiian button-up with rolled up sleeves under his usual suspenders and linen trousers, with boat shoes. The the cereal bowls clutter was also poofed away, giving room for Cosmo to dump Peri’s luggage in place. “It’s that island place we took you when we were on retirement when you were still our liiiiittle Poofy-Poofy!”  

“Wanda and Cosmo we’re telling me all about it! It’s all these floating islands in the sky and magical waterfalls and really cool famous fairies!,” Hazel exclaimed excitedly. “Ehehe! It’s so cool! You’ll relax there for sure!”

“Yes! The Fairywood Hotel Resort!” Wanda exclaimed, and then pulled Peri in closer to whisper to him directly. “Between you and me, the owner owes your grandfather and I BIG time. If you need any room upgrades, just mention you’re a Fairywinkle and–”

“Ok ok!” Peri gently pushed his mother at a reasonable talking distance. “Sheesh. I’ll go I’ll go! I really do appreciate all this, mom and dad… but NO, I am not using any of YOU or grandpa’s mafia stuff to bully staff for room upgrades!” speaking directly at his mother, Wanda.

“Hurtful.” Wanda teared up and comments under her breath. “But we’re good mafia… (;-; )”

“Wait… Wanda, what mafia?” Hazel questioned.

“Uhh… this might take some time to explain.” Wanda sweatdropped.

“Alright! See you when you’re feeling better son! We love you!” Cosmo interjected with his wand ready and before Peri can put in another word, he and his luggage are poofed out of the house.

--

Go to Index | Chapter 2 <- Previous | Next -> Chapter 4

[starringthesturniolos]

bite me(part 6)-Matt Sturniolo

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

summary: matt hates your guts but all of that changes when he wakes up and finds out your his mate.

contains: vampire!matt x reader, highschool au! (18 years old), dark themes, death, smut (not in this part)

A/N- THIS CHAPTER IS KINDA SAD but y'all will be alright, trust. a lot of violence in this chapter so by all means if that is not your thing please don't read. I want everyone that reads this to ENJOY it. love yall, bye!

matts pov.

the drive back to my house was silent. even with my heightened sense of hearing, I could only hear the sound of our breathing and the quiet hum of my engine. two minutes ago, she had been crying and I saw into the darkness that was her life. key word, was. between the protection spell and me, no one is ever going to hurt her again. a dark thought pops into my head, and ,unlike any other time, I welcome it with open arms.

"do you want him dead?" I mutter, letting the thought free. I said It quietly, but it sounded like I might as well have screamed compared to the quiet of my car. it made my skin crawl and judging by the look on her face, it made her's crawl too. "what is that supposed to mean??" she whips her head to me with fear in her eyes. merciful. I added that to a list of chracteristics that y/n had that I subconsciously accumulated in my own head. even though he hurt her in the worst ways, she'd never want anyone to lay a finger on him.

"he's my dad, matt!" she panics taking my lack of response as a promise that I would go back to her house and finish him off. I put one arm up in defense. "I was just asking. you panic too much, someone should go check your blood pressure.Jesus." I scoff, playing it off as if I wouldn't have gotten rid of him the moment she told she wanted me too.

she slumped back in her seat, clearly relieved. its right then that I notice the dark circles under her eyes. she's tired, and humans need rest. "go to sleep, you look like shit." I quip. if she were in her right mind, she probably would have said something back. instead she brings her knees into her chest and puts her head on the window. her eyes close and in a few minutes her breathing and heart rate slow. she's asleep and my eyes stay on the rough, pot - hole infested road. all the way home, I dodge the holes so she sleeps fine.

unreasonable fear hits my chest at my own actions. when did you start to care so much? is the question I ask myself as I gently lift her sleeping form into my arms to bring her into the house.

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

y/n is in the other room, and I wake up to my phone buzzing incessantly. I pick up my phone to see that nick is calling me. "he disappears off the face of the earth for two days and all of a sudden he wants to chit chat at the crack of dawn", I think to myself before smashing the accept call button in annoyance. "what?" my gruff voice answers in a more than grumpy tone.

"I need you to come to meet me, now! I'll send you my location. do not bring anyone with you, and do not to take your sweet ass time either matt." he says seriously. I can hear in his voice he is fighting to keep himself from sounding panicked. sensing the danger he's in, worry surges through me, and I can't help but wonder what he's gotten himself into. "don't worry nick, im coming." I say back just as seriously before hanging up the phone and rushing out the house.

I drive over as fast as I can to the unknown spot. it's just a clearing of trees and grass where two cars are parked side by side. ones nicks' and the other is someone's I don't recognize. I hop out of the car quick on high alert. nick where are you??

"you think you can just take my daughter and get away with it. I'm sorry son, but you're in for a real treat." says a terrifying voice that-unless god forbid I took another girl to my house tonight- could only be y/n's fathers’. I turn slowly to see him, a tall, burly man. he's holding nick close too him, a knife pressed lightly against the sensitive skin of his neck. regulary, I would look at this and shrug, vampires aren't supposed to be able to die. but nick's neck is bleeding from where the knife lightly grazes him. vampires can make other people bleed, but they themselves can't bleed, at least that's how it's supposed to be. even though the wound wasn't deep enough to be lethal, the wound itself was the problem to begin with. All thoughts aside, I lunge forward to grab nick away from the man but he dodges with unnatural speed. he smells human, but he's quick, too quick, which can only mean one thing.

y/n's dad is a fucking lunatic magic user, and, based on the position he's got me and nick in right now , he's a damn strong one too.

he throws nick to the side right then, and nick flops to the floor gasping for breath and clutching his bleeding throat. I freeze in fear for what's happened to nick. for what is going to happen to me. he waves the same knife he had pressed against nick at me in tauntingly cold, cut motions.

"matt, run" nick says weakly. my feet listen to nick's instructions, and I turn to bolt, only to find the powerful magic user right in front of me in an instant. before I can react, he plunges the knife into my stomach in three quick motions. unbearable pain laces through me and I feel something coming that I never thought I'd ever have to experience. that something is death.

"should of asked for a protection spell yourself." he lets out a cold, hard laugh as I drop to the floor slipping into an abyss of darkness.

@bbernard-03

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