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iwasntstable · 15 days

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n.s. | if i'm there

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➔𝐢𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞➔➔　𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦!+　　[𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐀𝐎𝟯]

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I didn't want to believe how much you needed help / And I just left you to be all by yourself / And now I wish I had seen that you weren't doing well / But I just came back to see how hard you fell Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall / You'll have a friend down in Hell after all 　　— If I'm There - Bad Omens

summary: when things start getting bad, you withdraw. ignoring calls and texts, and descending into bad habits as you self-isolate. but noah knows what you're like and he loves you too much to let you suffer alone.

content tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, poor mental health, mentions of disordered eating, discussions of food, self-destructive behaviour, fluff.

word count: 3.8k.

note: having a rough time recently so enjoy the self-indulgent product of my stressing. 　　PS: please tell me if the layout of this post is fucked up so I can fix it for you.

Things are getting bad again. You find your sleep schedule sliding later and later, falling asleep in the early hours of the morning and waking in the afternoon, bypassing the day altogether. Meals are becoming infrequent and poor in quality. Appetite dwindling and opting to eat half a bag of microwave rice at 3am rather than dedicating time to creating a nutritious and satisfying meal. Truth be told, you didn’t have the energy to cook anything more, and the malnutrition itself likely played a part in that lack of energy. The trash was left to build up, and the laundry hadn’t been done in weeks.

The progression of all of this was gradual. So gradual, that by the time you recognised what was happening, it was all but too late to stop the rapid descent into your depression. And as the days go by, you start to withdraw into yourself. Messages from friends begin to go unanswered. You tell yourself you’ll reply later, when you have the mental bandwidth to engage in conversation. But later ends up being not at all. Too many days have passed, and you feel like it’s too late to reply now; you don’t know how. That includes your boyfriend.

　　　　　　　　　　　[Noah 💘]

　　　　　　　　　　　Tuesday 　　　　　　　　　　　10:45AM

— Morning! Do you wanna call later? Miss your voice

morning! I have a headache — right now and I feel like it's not gonna go away :( I'll let you know though. I miss you too ❤️ —

— Aw I'm sorry :( — I hope you feel better soon — Text me later and let me know how you are ❤️

　　　　　　　　　　　02:27PM

— Hey babe how are you feeling?

my head still hurts :( —

— Want me to come over and look after you? — Have you eaten yet?

you don't have to do that, I'd be — shitty company anyway just wanna sleep —

— Okay :( — I'll text you later tonight so you can sleep

　　　　　　　　　　　10:09PM

— How are you feeling? — Are you sleeping? — Hope you’re resting well. Text me when you wake up so I know you’re okay — I love you ❤️ — Goodnight ❤️

　　　　　　　　　　Wednesday 　　　　　　　　　　　08:41AM

— Morning, how’re you feeling?

　　　　　　　　　　　09:13AM

— Are you awake? — Babe, are you okay?

hey! sorry I was still asleep. I feel a — little better but my head still hurts :(

— I’m gonna cancel today and come over — I don’t want you to be alone when you’re not well

no don’t do that, i’m okay really — you know this happens sometimes. I just wanna rest, you don’t have to cancel for me. not when work is important

— You’re important too — Please let me look after you

I love you and I love that — you want to be here for me, but all I want to do right now is sleep

I don’t want you to cancel — important schedules just to watch me sleep all day I’ll feel better soon. just need to give it time. —

— I’d cancel to sit and watch you sleep in a heartbeat — I love you, I just want you to be okay — I have to go, I’ll text you later okay?

I’ll text you back when I can, — if I don’t reply I’m probably asleep so don’t worry have a good day I love you —

　　　　　　　　　　　10:26PM

— Hey babe sorry I didn’t text all day I was so fucking busy — How’re you doing now? — Are you sleeping again?

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 10:31PM]

— Text or call me when you wake up, even if it’s the middle of the night I’ll leave my sound on — I love you ❤️

　　　　　　　　　　Thursday 　　　　　　　　　　　08:41AM

— Hey, are you awake?

　　　　　　　　　　　08:55AM

— Hello??

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 08:59AM]

— Message me when you wake up

　　　　　　　　　　　12:20PM

— Babe?? — I’m worried — Even if you don’t wanna talk can you please let me know you’re okay?

　　　　　　　　　　　12:46PM

— Babe please answer me

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 12:48PM]

　　　　　　　　　　　01:20PM

hey, sorry I missed your messages — I’m okay sorry for worrying you —

— I was just about to come over — I still might — I’m worried about you

please don’t I just don’t — wanna see anyone right now

— Even me?

I’m sorry — I’ll text you tomorrow — — If that’s what you want — I love you

　　　　　　　　　　　Friday 　　　　　　　　　　　03:47PM

— I don’t want to bother you, I’m trying to give you space if that’s what you need — But I’m worried about you — You haven’t messaged me all day — Did I do something wrong?

　　　　　　　　　　　04:10PM

— Babe please answer me

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 04:12PM]

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 04:15PM]

　　　　　　　　　　　04:18PM

— Your friends said they haven’t heard from you in days — What’s going on? You can talk to me. — You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to but text someone back, please — I just wanna know that you’re okay

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 04:23PM]

And that’s how Noah ended up outside your door. Banging incessantly and shouting your name through the wood. You could hear him from where you were wrapped up in bed, but you were half hoping he would just drop it and go away. Realising quickly, however, the futility of that hope when you heard another voice join the sound of his. That of your neighbour, the nosy one from the house on the right.

You groan and throw the blanket off yourself, flinching a little when your feet touch the cold floor. You have no choice but to go downstairs, and no time to change your appearance. Hoping to whatever God will listen that Noah doesn’t make a comment on the clothes you’d been wearing for the past week before you can get in the shower and change.

“I’m just really worried about her,” you can hear the unmistakable tone of Noah’s voice through the door before you even open it.

Hesitating for a moment with your hand on the door handle, you decide to eavesdrop on the conversation. “I haven’t seen her for, ohhh let me think... has to be about a week now,” despite the man’s voice wavering with age, it came loud and clear through the door. An unfortunate side effect of his hearing loss.

“A week?!” Noah exclaimed. Having enough of the old man sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, you unlock the door quickly, wrenching it open and taking a surprised Noah by the arm.

“Oh! Nice to see you, dear. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” The old man sneers.

“Yeah, nice seeing you, Trevor,” you barely extend him a glance as you drag Noah in through your doorway, slamming the door closed and turning the key. You let out a deep sigh, your palms and forehead resting against the cool wood.

Noah calls your name softly. You squeeze your eyes tight and take in a breath before you turn to face him. Putting on the best phoney smile you can muster.

“Sorry about him, he’s always in everyone’s business. What are you-”

“He said he hasn’t seen you in a week,” he says matter-of-factly. There’s no hint of a smile on his face. “Your friends said they haven’t heard from you in days either, and you’ve been ignoring my texts. And calls.”

Your heart seizes at the sadness in his eyes. He stands there in your front room, his usual sweatpants and hoodie, but he just looks so defeated. You always tell him he looks like an upset puppy when he’s sad, and the puppy-dog eyes are working overtime on you right now. “I told you, I’ve just been busy, and I-”

“And you had a headache, and you missed my texts, and you didn’t want to talk,” his voice was as stern as his expression. You knew he wasn’t an idiot. That there’s no way he’d believe your—at best—flimsy excuses. You stand frozen to the spot, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. Picking at the stitches, trying to distract yourself from the lump forming in your throat. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” Noah questions.

You swallow roughly, “I don’t know what you... I don’t-”

He says your name firmly and takes a step towards you, “I’m going to ask you how you are, and I would like you to answer me honestly.”

Feeling your heart begin to race in your chest, you swallow again, but it does nothing to get rid of the tightness in your throat. Or the dizziness creeping up on you.

“Are you doing bad again?” He sounds softer this time, and you almost wish he would just scream at you because when he’s kind and attentive like this, you can’t help but crumble and shut down.

You clench your jaw as your breathing gets quicker, shallower, and you feel the unmistakable burn of tears in your eyes. “I’m fine,” your voice comes out cracked and weak, not at all the sound of someone who's fine.

“Don’t pretend you’re okay. Please don’t lie to me, because I know you’re not okay!” Noah crosses the room to meet you, holding his hands outstretched towards you, “what can I do for you? Please, I want to help.”

You cover your mouth as you choke back a sob, wrapping your other arm around your middle; you can’t hold it in anymore, and the floodgates open. Gasping for breath that seems to never come, you grip the front of your shirt tight in your fist, the clothing suddenly feeling suffocating and stiflingly hot.

“Oh, baby. Come here,” Noah takes you by the shoulders and pulls you into his chest, where you fall into him and cling onto him like he’s your only lifeline. “I need you to breathe for me, okay? Slowly, in and out,” he strokes soothing circles against your back as he demonstrates to you how to breathe. “Come and sit down here, yeah? The couch is right here.”

You barely register your legs moving for the numbness extending across your entire body, from your fingertips all the way down to your toes. Your tears are hot on your face, and every time you try to wipe them away, they’re just replaced by more in a never-ending stream. The room feels like it’s spinning around you as you move, only worsening the feeling of nausea rising in your throat. The plush cushions of the couch are a welcome relief.

“You’re holding your breath, I need you to breathe. Just how I am, that’s it,” he cradles your head to his chest through your shaky attempts to take in a breath through your nose and let it out slowly through your mouth. Your breath hitches uncontrollably with every inhale, taking in tiny bursts of air at a time. Noah, though, has nothing but praise on his lips: “That’s it. You’re doing so well, just listen to my voice.”

You missed his voice. As you worsened and withdrew, you found any excuse to avoid going out to see him, and you had been ignoring his calls for days. You knew you were doing it, and you missed him desperately, but with every day that passed, you found it harder and harder to reach out. It was hard for you to reach out for help in the first place, hard for you to admit to anyone that you needed help. Hard to admit it to yourself. Opting instead to suffer in silence and just push through it until you finally broke. You didn’t know any other way.

The familiar presence of him by your side eases the pace of your racing heart, allowing each breath to come a little easier. A little calmer. “I hate to see you hurting like this,” he whispers into your hair, his hand stroking through it gently, working to soothe the seemingly unquenchable anxiety. “I want to help you, please let me help you.”

It broke your heart to hear the pain in his voice. You never wanted to hurt him, but that’s all you seem to do. That cold hand of dread tightens its grip on your chest again, panic filling your lungs and replacing all the air. “I’m sorry,” you barely choke out, gripping onto Noah tighter. Warring with yourself, wanting to hold him close, but feeling like you need to push him away.

“You don’t need to apologise, ever. I’m here, I’m right here,” he runs his hand up and down your back, cradling you close. He can’t help but notice that through the fabric of your shirt, the bones of your spine are ever so slightly more prominent than before. He keeps his mouth shut. Focussing instead on quelling your distress and holding you tight in his arms.

“I just- I fuck everything up. I can’t do anything right, I don’t deserve your love, I don’t deserve you-” Once you start talking, you can’t stop, finally letting it all out until Noah cuts you off, incapable of hearing you degrade yourself anymore.

“No. No, that’s not even remotely true. Don’t say that about yourself,” he says firmly, holding you just a little tighter.

You shake your head against him, “all I do is hurt people and push you away, and I don’t know how to stop. You don’t deserve that, you shouldn’t have to put up with me.”

“I don’t ‘put up with you’. I love you, and I want to be here for you. Whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

“You shouldn’t have to drop everything to come deal with me when you’re so busy. You deserve someone that isn’t so fucking hard to love.”

With that, Noah pushes you backwards by the shoulders, holding you there so he can look into your eyes when he speaks. “You are not hard to love. Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had the privilege of doing. You just…” He takes a deep breath, cupping your cheek and brushing away the tears from under your eyes. “You just need to let me in, and let me show you you’re just as worthy of love as anyone else is.”

The image of him blurs when the tears overflow from your eyes again, your face crumpling as you bow your head. “You’ll leave me," your voice shaking with the force of your sobs.

"Why would you ever think I'd leave you?" he asks, dismayed by your fear.

"Everyone always leaves," you tell him, voice brittle and quiet, shaking your head. "It's only a matter of time before you leave too."

"I love you," Noah feels tears prick at his own eyes. "I love you so, so much. And I'm not going anywhere." He lifts your head, once again brushing away your tears so he can look into your eyes, "please trust me to help you."

"I'm just so tired," you confess, and he pulls you into his arms again.

“I can't promise to fix all your problems, but I can promise you won't have to face them alone. There’s nothing you could do that would drive me away. And the things that would, I know you’d never do,” he runs a comforting hand through your hair as you cry, his other arm secure around your waist. Your tears soak into his shirt, but he doesn’t mind. He wants you to give it all to him—all your sorrows, all your grief—so that he can bear it with you.

You desperately want to believe his words. To lean on him when you need him the most, but that insecure piece inside of you won’t let you yield. You don’t know how to open up to anyone without feeling like a burden.

Noah stays right there with you until the tears subside and your breathing evens out. Your head resting in his lap as he reassuringly strokes your hair, you feel the beginnings of a dull ache in your head that makes you drowsy. He rubs soothing circles into your back with his other hand, shifting slightly to get a better look at your face. “Have you eaten yet today?” He asks tentatively. Feeling your throat constrict under the pressure of guilt, you know you can’t lie to him. You know he sees right through you, so you decide to try being honest by shaking your head. “Want me to cook something for you? Or we can order something? My treat.”

You know he means well, but you don’t know how to say you don’t have an appetite without worrying him. He won’t let you go the entire day without eating, but all you want to do is sleep.

“Please talk to me,” he pleads, “I need to hear you.”

On a shaky breath, you settle for a half truth. “I don’t think there’s anything to cook.”

“That’s fine, we can order food then. What do you want?”

Chewing on your lip, you freeze. The silence stretches on far too long for you to be deciding what restaurant to order from, it’s clear you’re unable to answer.

Noah sighs your name, “you have to eat something.”

“I know. I just… I just don’t want to,” he remains quiet, waiting for you to continue. “I don’t feel hungry. Thinking about it is overwhelming. I just want to sleep so I don’t have to think about it.”

“What have you been eating these past few days?” He asks cautiously, his tone light. Conscious to not sound accusatory.

You sigh, knowing there’s no way of escaping this. “Microwave stuff, mostly,” you play with the fabric of his sweatpants, feeling his leg underneath, fidgeting your anxiety away. “Rice, oats, ramen. Stuff I don’t have to wash up after.”

“Have you been eating every day?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, the tension only thickening when you answer "no,” barely above a whisper.

You feel him nod. Quiet for a moment until he too speaks so quietly, you almost didn’t hear it. “You can’t go on like this.”

“I know,” you confess.

“Please let me help you.”

The desperation in his voice is what does it—the final straw. You sit up straight, turning to face him. Wiping the residual tears from your cheeks and looking him in the eye. You know it’s time to really be honest.

“It’s hard for me-” Your voice catches in your throat as the threat of crying again creeps up on you, not quite realising how much your body would resist. Taking a second to compose yourself—a deep breath in, eyes closed, releasing it slowly—your resolve strengthens and you continue. “It’s hard for me to open up to people. To admit when I’m struggling. I’m so used to feeling like I’m burdening everyone with my problems, so I just keep it all to myself. And by the time I realise I’m going down that road again, it’s too late to stop it.”

“It’s never too late,” Noah says reassuringly, tucking both sides of your hair behind your ears—the left first, then the right. “I mean this in the most loving way possible, but you don’t get to decide whether you’re a burden. You don’t get to take that choice away from me. The choice to help you. Your problems will never be a burden to me, no matter how big or small. You will never be a burden to me. I love you. I choose you. And I’ll never think poorly of you for needing help, ever.”

You don’t know what to say. Your eyes fixed on his. One of your favourite things about him is his big brown eyes. Always so full of comfort. So full of love that even you, with all of your self-doubt, can’t deny it. “I’m sorry. I know you said not to apologise, but I think I need to. I’m sorry for making you worry and for pushing you away. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Noah takes your hands in his. Large palms enveloping your own entirely. “Seeing you hurting is what hurts me the most. I love you so much, all I want is for you to be happy and healthy.”

You squeeze his hands in yours, “I love you, Noah. I’ll try harder, I promise. Feeling so unwanted for so long before I met you, I think I didn’t realise just how lucky I am to have you until now.” Noah raises one of your hands, kissing the back firmly and holding it there, savouring the feel of your skin against his lips. Timidly, you ask, “can we get pizza?”

He breaks out into a smile, “of course we can! But you have to text your friends back first," he bargains, "even if it’s just something short.”

“Deal,” you can’t help but return his smile. “My phone is upstairs, I’m just gonna go get it.”

“Wait!” he calls as you stand, pulling you back to the sofa and into him with a hand on the back of your head, “can I kiss you first?”

Without a word, you lean into him, closing the gap between you and feeling his lips on yours for the first time in weeks. That familiar burn of tears threatening to escape your eyes returns, and when you pull away, those beautiful brown eyes are full of concern.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, laughing awkwardly, “happy tears. I just missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” his smile taking on a more solemn appearance this time. “But I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, please don’t ever forget that.”

“Don’t forget that I love you too. No matter what happens. No matter how stupidly self-destructive I act.”

Noah pulls you in for one final embrace before letting you retrieve your phone. You spend time texting back each of your friends, apologising for your absence and telling them you were okay, that Noah is here, and you’d explain more later. Noah, sitting at your right, creates your pizza order, periodically asking what else you’d like adding.

The two of you spend the night watching trash TV, settling into your usual comfort and hurling insults at the characters for making stupid decisions while you eat your food. Only realising after it arrived just how hungry you really were. And when you’re finished eating, Noah and you head upstairs.

You feel like a new person after you shower, coming out of the bathroom to find Noah relaxed against your headboard. The sheets on your bed changed, and a fresh set of clothes lay waiting for you to change into for bed.

Accepting finally how much lighter everything feels when someone is around to help you. You slide under the clean sheets, comforted by the warmth of Noah’s body beside you for the first time in too long. And just as you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and the feeling of his hand stroking your back, you’re determined to never let things get this bad again. Knowing you need to trust him, because trust is the foundation of love, and you love Noah with every fibre of your being. And despite how hard it is sometimes, you need to let him love you back.

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✉ C:/SYSTEM/APP/TAG

ᯤ 𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗦 (21) :　 ⌞⬤ 7 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾⌝ @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning | @english-fucker @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard | @seven-glass-kids @runadaggerthroughmychest

@lma1986 | @shayzillaaaa

⌞⬤ 5 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒⌝ @madamaaubergine | @thewrstinme | @amourtoken @livingdeceasedgirl | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

⌞⦵ 5 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖻⌝ @xcllnt | @romanreigns-supreme | @slutforcoffein @deathofpeaceofmindem | @lovesick-evangelist

⌞◯ 4 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾⌝ @bluestdai | @fadingangelwisp | @broken0mens @ferduttini

　+[MSG : join the taglist!]

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#so if noah could come over and drag me out of this pit i'm in that would be great!#noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens #bad omens cult #fluff #angst #C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/ONESHOT #C:/PROJECTS/SEARCH/TAG/ANGST #C:/PROJECTS/SEARCH/TAG/FLUFF #C:/PROJECTS/SEARCH/TAG/EMOTIONALHURTCOMFORT

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alientee · 10 months

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Mauga x reader and y’all mainly voted one shots so here’s one haha 18+ so minors don’t interact

🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️

Reader is worried about Mauga when he goes on missions with talon so Mauga eases her worries the best way he knows how. Mauga x afab reader. (Oral sex f.receiving, size kink, overstimulation , mating press, there’s a little manhandling going on .) I tried my best I’m not the greatest at le smut.

You were laying in bed, struggling to sleep. Mauga had been taking on a lot of missions with Talon lately. Now you knew your boyfriend was tough, but that didn’t mean his job as a mercenary didn’t come with consequences. He is such a free spirit, but sometimes his boss doesn’t like it, and you were afraid it would cost him his life one day.

You wanted to stay up just in case Mauga came back and he needed help. He didn’t like it when you worried for him, but you couldn’t help it. You look at the clock, seeing that it’s 1:45 a.m.

“Mauga… please be alright”

And at 2:00am, you let out a sigh of relief hearing the alarm turn off. You sit up, waiting for your boyfriend to show himself, knowing he would stay down stairs and eat his dinner you had left in the oven for him. Around 45 minutes later, you hear big stomps coming upstairs. He peeks his head in to see if you are asleep, and he frowns when he sees otherwise.

Mauga crosses his arms “baby I told you, don’t wait up for me. You need your sleep”

You sigh, you knew were this was going “I know… I just can’t help it… I wanna make sure your ok”

He walks toward the bed and wraps his arms around you. Every time he holds you, it’s like you drown in his big muscles, and it feels like safety. He grips your chin, making you look at him.

“I told you I’d always come back to you, even if I had to take every life I needed to, and I meant it. You understand me”

You nodded; you knew how serious Mauga was. It took a lot for you to accept that he works for Talon. What he does makes you scared of what could come from it. For you and for him, it took a lot of work, but you knew he loved you, and you loved him just as much. He stares into your eyes and makes sure you truly understand that he’s serious. Then let’s go of your chin. He reaches down and grips your hips.

“Good, lemmie put your mind at ease. Lay down”

“But Mauga” he stops you and pushes you on your back, gripping your hands above your head.

“Lay down, and don’t move”

You listen to his instructions and look away with a heavy blush on your face. It always gave you butterflies when Mauga got this way. You could never get used to it. He somehow always made you feel like it was the first time every time.Mauga chuckles when he sees you, his muscular body pressing against your soft skin. He leans in close to your face, his warm breath tickling your neck.

“So fucking cute, you like it when I’m rough with you huh" he whispers seductively before leaning in to kiss your neck

You moan in embarrassment not wanting to admit it. Everything about this man turned you on and you couldn’t help it. He was so big, and so was everything on him. Mauga takes your moan as a sign of approval and smirks, his rough hands trailing down your body. He grabs your ass, squeezing and kneading it as he continues to kiss and nibble on your neck.

“Gonna eat you out til you can’t worry that pretty little head about anything else.” He groans, his cock throbbing in anticipation.

“Please~”

When he made no move to continue, you knew it would take more than that. Mauga loved it when you begged; he loved it even more to tease you. He could play with you for hours and still wouldn’t let you cum. Getting you to the edge and making you want more is what got him going. He knew you would beg for him so sweetly. You always do.

"Please Mauga~, I wanna cum for you…please please please touch me!” You gaze at him with pleading eyes. "I'm begging you, Mauga. I can’t take it anymore. My body is burning to have more of you.” You gasp in between words, and your eyes shyly look away. “I won’t be satisfied unless it’s you”

Mauga's eyes darken, and he starts to smirk as he hears your plea. His hips start grinding against you. He grabs your face roughly, pulling your head to the side as he bites your neck hard enough to leave a mark. His other hand reaches between your legs, roughly tearing your panties off.

“Don’t cry about it being to much later" He growls, using his thumbs to spread you’re pussy lips "I'm gonna make you cum, over and over again doll"

Mauga's tongue darts out, tracing the outline of your pussy before plunging inside. He groans as he feels your wet heat, and his hands grip your thighs as his tongue thrusts in and out of your tight hole in a punishing rhythm. You begin to squirm and beg for more as he licks your wet folds.

“Maugaaa ngh~” you tried to grind against his lips but his grip was to strong

He growls low in his throat. “You're so nasty when ya wanna be; act all shy, then ya beg for it," he says before taking a long lick from your entrance to your clit. Savoring the taste of you on his tongue. He continues to lap at your pussy, pushing his large finger inside you, stretching you as he thrusts it in and out while sucking on your pearl.

“I can't wait to feel you cum on my tongue" he mutters against your pussy, his free hand gripping your hip tightly. He runs his tongue up and down your cunt while flicking your clit slowly. He could feel you clench around his finger, he sped up his movements. Mauga moans into your pussy as you grind against his face, the sensation driving him wild. He increases the intensity of his tongue work, flicking and sucking your clit, pushing his finger deeper inside you.

You could feel yourself about cum, your back arched and you started to feel your stomach tighten. The familiar release washing over you as you grip the sheets and released into his mouth. Mauga pushes his face deeper into your dripping wet pussy lapping up your cum and he doesn’t stop even when you’re shaking.

“Ahhhhhhhhh- Mauga.. I can’t…. s’to much!” You try to pull on his hair to move him back but Mauga smacks your thigh gripping it hard enough to leave a bruise. He pulls you back to him pushing his weight down on you.

“Stop moving and fucking take it you begged for it”

He continues to lap up your juices, his tongue swirling around your clit sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. You begin to shake from the overstimulation, but you had no choice but to take it. He was making a mess of you, kissing and licking on your pussy his saliva mixing with your essence.

Mauga begins to slurp on your sensitive pussy while getting your juices on his face pressing his nose against your clit causing more friction. His finger begins to rub against your g-spot and your eyes roll to the back of your head. While your legs start convulsing Mauga continues his attack on your sensitive folds. Not stopping no matter how much you beg. The sounds of him kissing your clit and flicking it with his tongue rang through your ears.

“Mauga please m’gonna make a mess”

“Go ahead sweetheart make a mess on my face”

You start to lose your breath. The familiar tightness in your stomach returns until you feel added pressure you never have before. “Fuuuuuuckk!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You end up screaming as you squirt all over his face. Mauga rubs his hands over your clit roughly making your juices spray out on his face and the sheets. He stares into your eyes as he slurps up your mess still shoving his face back in your pussy licking and sucking on your folds. You trash in his hold, not able to take his continued ministrations.

“W-wait…. Ahh~….. Mauga ! m’sensitive no more please!”

Mauga growls in annoyance as he grips your legs and pushes them up against the bed. Your ankles were in the air near you knew you were stuck. Mauga leans back and smacks your ass so hard it leaves a red mark behind. You couldn’t help but hiss in pain feeling the familiar sting on your ass. You knew you were testing his patience. Because he knew you could take more of it, you have before.

He starts to finger your pussy quickly trying to get another organism out of you. As you try to beg for mercy squirming in his hold Mauga ignores you, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly. Fat tears start to roll down your face as you release another orgasm. The overstimulation leaving you a panting crying mess unable to think straight.

“Told you to stop fucking moving” Mauga takes off his pant’s and gets on top of you bringing your legs back further he puts his legs on both sides of you trapping you in the position. Mauga could never fully fit in you at the start. He was atleast 10 inches, his cock was fat and heavy. Even when he was fully hard it could barely hold its weight. He strokes his cock a few times before rubbing it against your folds getting himself wet with your juices.

He slaps it against your clit a few times before he slowly puts his thick cock in you. He takes his time stretching you open, knowing how hard it is for you to take him in. He begins to thrust slowly inside of you giving you time to adjust. He pulls back only leaving his tip in before slamming back down inside of you. Once he feels you running your fingers through his hair he knew you were ready. He starts to go deeper as he feels your tight heat around him.

“M-Mauga….it hurts… m’to full” you whine feeling the sting of him stretching you.

“Hurts sweetheart? Lemmie rub that pretty clit, make you feel good”

He moves his hand down softly rubbing your clit in circles. You look at him through your eyelashes biting your lip finally feeling some relief. “Feel better baby?” You nodded at him.

His cock moves deeper and deeper inside you as you begin to relax. You moan louder, begging him for more, and the pain starts to turn into pleasure. He starts to pick up the pace, slamming into you harder and faster. Mauga smirks as he watches you lose control. He continues to thrust in you roughly, feeling your tight walls gush all over his shaft. The room was filled with your moans and his growls. The loud Pat Pat sounds of his heavy balls slapping your ass filled the room and turned you on even more.

You scratch at his back unable to do anything else but to take him fucking you while in the mating press. His movement gets more rapid as his thurst get sloppier as he feels you shake and tremble beneath him. The bed begins to creak and the headboard hits the wall as he roughly fucks you into the bed.

Manga’s entire body shutters, his hips bucking wildly as he feels himself about to release. He continues to fuck you into the bed, gripping your thighs, while his thrust becomes more sloppy. As you start to come undone, he lets out a deep moan, letting out spurts of hot, sticky cum inside of you. And he doesn’t stop for over a minute until you're full of cum, leaving your pussy a sloppy mess.

He lets out a sigh of relief, grabbing ahold of you, turning on his back, and bringing you to his chest with his cock still in you. You lay on top of him, satisfied with being filled with his cum and feeling full with him still inside. You lean up to give him a kiss, and he grips your ass cheeks, caressing them softly while your tongues are caressing each other. When you both separate, a string of saliva connects you. Holding each other, you both lay in silence until Mauga speaks up.

“Any time you think I’m not coming back to you remember that I’ll always do anything to be with you.” He kissed your forehead, and you genuinely believe him.

“I believe it….. just promise you won’t do anything to stupid”

“How about just the right amount of stupid”

“Deal~”

#mauga #mauga x reader #overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch mauga #overwatch x you #overwatch x reader #ow mauga #mauga overwatch #overwatch smut #maugaloa malosi

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doctorbitchcrxft · 4 months

Text

Provenance | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, j e a l o u s y

Word Count: 6703

A/N: Taglist will be closing at the start of season 2! if you aren't currently tagged, and you'd like to join, please please let me know within the next two posts!!

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You gripped your beer tightly watching Dean getting a girl’s number across the bar from you.

“(Y/N), if you hold that thing any tighter, you’re gonna break it,” Sam snorted. “What’s your deal?”

You looked back at Sam but were unable to pull your eyes from Dean and his new “friend” for longer than a few seconds. “Nothing.” You took a swig of your drink.

“Are you sure you don’t know how you feel about Dean?” the brunet taunted.

You shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

He snickered in response and returned to looking over the papers in front of him.

You waved Dean over, who held a hand up behind the woman’s back to get you to wait. You gestured again and his smile dropped. He said something to her quickly before making his way back over to you.

“I think we got something,” Sam told his brother.

Dean grinned over his shoulder. “Oh, yeah, me too. I think we need to take a little shore leave; just a little bit. What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one.”

You rolled your eyes. “So, what are we today, Dean? Rock stars, army rangers?”

“Reality TV scouts,” he grinned at you, ignoring the bite in your voice. “Looking for people with special skills. I mean hey, it's not that far off right?”

“If by ‘not far off’ you mean ‘completely off the mark,’ then you’re spot on,” you deadpanned.

Dean shot you a look while he turned to his brother. “By the way, she's got a friend over there. Possibly hook you up. What do you think?”

“Dean, no thanks, I can get my own dates,” Sam responded to his question.

“Yeah, you can, but you don't.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Dean shook his head. “Nothing. What you got?”

“Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home, a few days ago. Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons, all—” He trailed off as his brother looked back at the women at the bar.

“Dean!” you snapped your fingers at him.

He turned back. “Huh, what?”

“No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows locked from the inside,” Sam continued.

“Could just be a garden variety murder, you know, not our department,” Dean answered.

“No. Dad says different.”

“What do you mean?” Dean’s interest was piqued at the mention of his dad.

You pointed at the map. “John noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one here in 1912, second, right here in 1945, and the third in 1970. Same M.O. as the Telescas. Throats slit, doors locked from the inside; the whole nine. Now, so much time passed that nobody checked the pattern. Except for your dad. It’s frustrating how much better he is at this than me sometimes,” you muttered at the end of your sentence.

“Alright, I'm with ya. It's worth checking out. We can't pick this up ‘til first thing though right?” Dean asked, trying to contain his excitement.

“Yeah,” Sam answered.

“Good.” Before you could stop him, Dean was off to the two women again.

You were fuming; staring daggers at him and downing the rest of your drink.

Sam snickered at you. “Let’s get you out of here before you end up killing one of those girls.”

“Nah, I’d kill your brother. They didn’t do anything wrong,” you responded, helping Sam pick up the papers scattered about the table. “How ‘bout the Telescas’ house?” you asked.

***

You and Sam headed back to the motel you were staying in to research the history of the Telescas’ home. You sprawled out across Dean’s bed with your laptop, and Sam sat on his bed with his laptop.

“Finding anything?” you asked him.

“Nope. You?”

You shook your head. “Nada.”

He shut his laptop. “So? You wanna talk about it?”

You shut yours, too. “About what?”

“Dean?”

“Oh, hell no,” you snorted.

“You two are made for each other,” he deadpanned at your boxed-up emotions.

“Fuck off, Sam,” you retorted. “What about you? Still not ready to jump back into the dating pool?” You snuggled into the blankets on Dean’s bed, reveling in his scent emanating off them.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What was she like?” you asked after a moment.

“Who?”

“Jessica. You never told me much about her.”

He sighed. “She was just… the best, man. You two would’ve gotten along great, honestly. She was—” he grinned sadly at the thought of her, “—so smart. So beautiful. Quick, witty, and…” he shook his head. “I was looking for wedding rings. Few weeks before she...”

You smiled sadly at him. “She sounds amazing.”

“She was,” he responded. A quiet settled over the room.

“Don’t you think she would’ve wanted you to be… I don’t know, happy? Do you think she’d want you to move on? It’s been almost a year,” you said. “Jesus, I’ve known you guys for almost a year now," you realized.

He chuckled before going quiet again momentarily. “I think she would. But Jess… I don’t know if I’ll ever be fully over her. She was my best friend, y’know?”

You nodded. “I get it. I’m glad you had that with her, though. Sounds like you really loved each other.”

“We did.”

You and Sam went silent once more, and you succumbed to the tiredness of your limbs and mind. You were so comforted by the scent of worn leather, Dean’s cologne, and whiskey, that you slept better than you had in years.

***

When you woke up the next morning, Sam was standing over you, shaking you gently. You popped up and grabbed his wrist, twisting it and putting a hand to his throat. “Hey, hey,” he tried to calm you down, “Dean’s back.”

You released him immediately. “Sorry, dude. Uh… reflexes,” you laughed awkwardly.

“It’s okay. Dean does that, too.”

The man in question stumbled into the room tiredly. “Move your asses. Let’s go.”

***

You and Sam had just swept the Telescas’ house for EMF while Dean slept in the car trying to get over his hangover. When you returned to the car, you beeped the horn. Dean shot up a foot in the air and groaned.

“Man, that is so not cool.” He adjusted his sunglasses and leaned back against the car door. You and Sam climbed into your seats and began to explain what you had been up to.

“We just swept the Telescas with EMF. It's clean. And last night, while you were, well, out—” Sam trailed off.

Dean’s smirk made your stomach drop. “Good times.”

“—we checked the history of the house.”

“Nothing strange about the Telescas, either,” you said, swallowing your feelings.

“Alright,” Dean’s gravelly voice came, “so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents. Cursed object or something.”

“The house is clean,” you said.

“Yeah I know, you said that.”

“No, no, it’s empty. No furniture, nothing,” you explained.

Dean turned back to you. “Where's all their stuff?”

***

You felt so out of place in the swanky auction house the Telescas’ belongings had been brought to. Even the Impala looked like an outcast in the parking lot full of McLarens and Corvettes.

You and the brothers wandered around the auction house, and you wrapped your jacket tightly around yourself.

“Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale for Wasps if you ask me,” Dean commented. He took some food from a tray table as a man came up behind you.

“Can I help you?” the man questioned.

You wheeled around to face him.

“I'd like some champagne please,” Dean said in a mock posh voice.

You could’ve killed him. “He’s not a waiter.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow at you, and you held out your hand to the man. “I’m (Y/N) Dewitt. This is Sam and Dean Connors. We’re with Connors Limited. We’re art dealers.”

The man didn’t give you the courtesy of a handshake. You fought the urge to make an inappropriate comment.

“You. Are… art dealers,” the man said, clearly having difficulty grasping that concept. “I'm Daniel Blake, this is my auction house. Now, this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list.”

“We're there, Chuckles, you just need to take another look.” Dean, of course, talked through a mouth full of food.

You shot a sharp look at Dean as he took a glass of champagne off the tray. He turned and walked off, and you followed him.

“Can you chill out?” you asked him.

“What?” he asked through a mouthful of champagne.

You rolled your eyes. “You know what I’m talking about. I don’t like this crowd either, but relax.” You noticed a painting just beyond where you and Dean were talking. It was of a family in an American Gothic style; presumably from the early 1900s. The family contained three young girls in frilly dresses, a man with a gaunt and creepy face, and a woman you assumed was the mother seated in a chair.

“A fine example of American Primitive wouldn't you say?” a woman’s voice called from behind you.

You turned to the place the voice came from to find an extremely good looking woman in a sleek black dress with glossed lips descending the staircase. You noticed Dean beginning to ogle her as Sam answered her. “Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses. But you knew that, you just wanted to see if I did.”

The woman smiled as she approached you. “Guilty. And clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake.”

“I’m Sam,” he said. “This is my… brother, Dean.” Dean was still stuffing his face with food from passing trays. “And our friend, (Y/N).”

“Dean. Can we get you some more mini-quiche?” Sarah questioned.

You snorted. You liked her.

“I'm good, thanks,” he smiled through a full mouth.

“So, can I help you with something?” she asked Sam. You knew she liked him; she was giving him the same look you often gave Dean.

“Yeah, actually. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?” Sam asked her.

She grimaced. “The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, selling your things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich ones.”

“Is it possible to see the provenances?” Sam asked.

The man from earlier came up behind you. “I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that.”

“Why not?” you asked.

“You're not on the guest list. And I think it's time to leave.”

You rolled your eyes, dropping your polite disposition. “Don’t have to tell us twice.”

“Apparently, I do,” he said.

“C’mon, Dean,” you said, dragging his arm out.

***

You and the brothers found a decently priced motel and approached the rooms you had been assigned.

“Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?” Dean scoffed at his brother.

“Art history course. It's good for meeting girls,” Sam replied simply.

Dean unlocked the door to his room and chuckled. “It's like I don't even know you.”

You walked a little further down to the room next to theirs and unlocked it only to find a gaudily outfitted room full of obnoxious disco decor. The "do not disturb" hanger was even of John Travolta’s silhouette from Saturday Night Fever.

“Huh.” You dropped your bag off and headed back to the boys’ room.

“What was… providence?” Dean was asking as you entered the room.

“Provenance,” you corrected. “It’s like a biography for a painting. You use ‘em to check the history of the pieces; in this case, to see if they have a freaky past.”

“Alright, professor,” Dean taunted you. “Well, we're not getting anything out of Chuckles, but Sarah…” he smirked at his brother.

“Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin,” Sam smirked back.

“Not me,” Dean laughed.

You shot a look at Sam, too.

He seemed only mildly horrified. “No, no, no, pickups are your thing, Dean.”

“It wasn't my butt she was checking out,” Dean snorted.

You giggled despite yourself.

“In other words, you want me to use her to get information,” Sam deadpanned.

“Sometimes you gotta take one for the team. Call her,” Dean instructed his brother.

Sam rolled his eyes, but took out his phone. You weren’t sure when he had gotten her number, but he left about an hour later to take her out to dinner.

You and Dean sat in awkward silence for a bit.

“So…”

You went silent again.

“What’s goin’ on with us, (Y/N)? You’ve barely spoken a word to me this whole trip.”

You huffed. “Nothing.”

“Obviously, it’s not nothing.” Dean held your challenging stare.

“Seriously, drop it, please,” you said.

“Fine. You wanna go get some food?”

You smiled despite yourself. “You know I do.”

You and Dean found a crappy diner with deliciously greasy burgers to stuff your faces with.

“So, how ‘bout you, sweetheart? Why don’t you ever go out?” Dean asked.

“On dates, you mean?”

He nodded.

You nibbled on a fry. “I’m just not one for hookups. I can’t take ‘em,” you admitted. “You, though, are king of the unattached drifters.”

He chuckled. “What’s wrong with hookups?

“I get too attached, which kind of defeats the whole purpose,” you replied. “The idea of being intimate with somebody I don’t even know makes me want to throw up.”

“Why? You’re gorgeous. Anybody would kill to get with you," he said casually.

You ignored the way your heart swelled in your chest. “It’s not that, it’s just…” you sighed. “I’m, like, allergic to vulnerability.”

“I get it,” Dean chuckled. “You know by now I’m not exactly the best with it, either.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re worse than me,” you quipped. “You look like you’re gonna throw up any time you have to tell me you’re sorry or something like that.”

“Maybe it’s just your face,” he retorted.

“Hey!” you giggled. “You can’t call me gorgeous one minute then tell me looking at me makes you sick the next.”

He chuckled. “I just did, so…”

“Whatever, Winchester. What is it about hookups you enjoy so much, anyway?”

He shrugged and took a bite of his burger. “Sex is just fun, I guess. Always helps me blow off steam.”

You scoffed. “I’m sure it does.”

“I’m serious! Helps me take a break from… all this.” He gestured around him.

“That’s why you have hobbies, Dean. Sex is not a hobby.”

“It can be! You draw, Sam reads, I fuck."

“Well, get a better one,” you scoffed.

“What would you suggest I do? Knitting?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, just… something a little more wholesome, maybe. You said it yourself, it doesn’t always make you feel great.”

“Never should’ve told you that,” he responded.

“Well, ya did, so.”

He snorted at you. “It’s frustrating how well you know me sometimes.”

“Oh, look at that, another crumb of vulnerability from Mr. Closed Book.”

“That’s the best diss you could come up with?”

“Hey, it’s not easy being effortlessly funny all the time,” you retorted. “It’s a lot of pressure.”

***

When you and Dean returned to the motel room, you pulled out your whetstone to sharpen your knives.

“Who you plannin’ on carvin’ up, sweetheart?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” you answered.

“Remind me not to piss you off,” he remarked.

“You do literally all the time,” you quipped. “You’re lucky you’re still in one piece. If you give me yours, I’ll sharpen ‘em, too.”

“Thanks,” he said. He handed his knives over to you.

Sam burst through the door at that moment holding a stack of papers. “Got ‘em.”

“So she just handed the providences over to you?” Dean questioned.

“Provenances,” you corrected.

“We went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers—”

Dean raised his eyebrows expectantly. “And?”

“And nothing. That's it. I left.”

“You didn't have to con her or do any… special favors or anything like that?” Dean questioned.

“Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter, please?” the younger brother scoffed.

“You know when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit,” he suggested.

“Why?”

“So you could take her out again. It's obvious you're into her, even I could see that.”

Sam ignored his brother. “Hey, I think I've got something here.”

You headed over to Sam’s seated position at the desk and looked over his shoulder at the papers. “ ‘Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted 1910’,” you read off.

“Now, compare the names of the owners with my dad's journal,” Sam said.

Dean pulled it out. “First purchased in 1912, Peter Simms. Peter Simms murdered 1912. Same thing in 1945. Oh, same thing in 1970.”

“Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it,” Sam continued.

“So what do you think? It's haunted? Or cursed?” you asked.

“Either way, it's toast,” said Dean, getting up from his bed.

***

Under the cover of night, you and the brothers broke into the auction house. You were consistently impressed with and sexually frustrated by how easy scaling tall fences and gates were for Dean.

“Come on!” Dean urged you.

You disarmed the security alarm, wearing gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints. “Go ahead,” you whispered.

Dean picked the lock at your cue. You shone your flashlight ahead of you searching for the painting. When you found it, you and the boys were in and out within minutes. You and the boys had clearly been breaking and entering for years. You found it comical almost how good you were. You brought the painting out to a field behind the arthouse and set it alight.

Dean dusted off his hands. “Ugly ass thing. If you ask me, we're doing the art world a favor.”

***

Dean banged on your door the next morning. “We got a problem. I can't find my wallet.”

You opened it. “How the hell do you lose your wallet?”

“I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night.”

“Fuck, dude, that’s bad.” You started pulling on your boots as he paced around the room.

“Yeah, I know. It's got my prints, my ID— well, my fake ID anyway. We gotta get it before someone else finds it. Come on.”

You and the brothers hurried around the auction house searching for the wallet. Sam was clearly frustrated with his brother until he caught sight of Sarah.

“Hey guys!” she smiled.

You wheeled around at the sound of her voice and attempted to act cool.

“Sarah! Hey,” Sam breathed.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Ahh, we.... we are leaving town and, you know, we came to say goodbye,” Sam responded.

“What are you talking about Sam, we're sticking around for at least another day or two,” Dean grinned as he strolled up to the two. He took his wallet out of his pocket and shot a look at Sam. “By the way, I'm gonna go ahead and give you that $20 I owe you.” He turned to Sarah. “I always forget, you know.” Dean chuckled and you grinned as he held out the cash to his brother. Sam took it and glared at him. “Well, we’ll leave you two crazy kids alone, I gotta go do something… somewhere.”

“Smooth, Dean,” you told him as you walked away from Sarah and Sam. The two of you headed back out to the Impala and sat in it waiting for Sam. When he returned, he was frantically saying the painting was back in the auction house.

“I don't understand. We burned the damn thing,” Sam rushed out.

“Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious,” Dean remarked.

“Alright, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?” you chimed in.

“Well, um, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings it's always the painting's subject that haunts 'em,” Sam began.

“Yeah. So we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting. What were their names again?”

“Merchant,” you answered. “I say we find us a bookstore.”

***

And so, that was where you headed. You found a proprietor whose personality was interesting, to say the least. You found his quirk had a bit of charm to it.

“You said the Isaiah Merchant family right?” he asked you.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Sam said.

You and Dean were flicking through a book with pictures of guns in it. The proprietor laid a book of newspaper clippings on the table in front of you. “I dug up every scrap of local history I could find. So, are you folks crime buffs?”

“Kinda. Yeah. Why do you ask?” you responded.

He held up the newspaper article before him. It talked about the sinking of the Titanic, and just next to it, read “Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself.”

“Yes. Yeah, that sounds about right,” Dean replied.

“The whole family was killed?” You tilted your head.

“It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself. Now, he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor,” the proprietor explained.

“Why'd he do it?” Sam questioned.

“Let's look. Ahh... ‘People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament. Controlled his family with an iron fist. Wife, uh, two sons, adopted daughter…’ “ he skimmed on. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… ‘There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave.’ Which of course you know in that day and age, um, so instead, old man Isaiah, well, he gave them all a shave.” He drew his hand across his throat and made a noise to go along with it. You and Dean joined in laughing with the proprietor.

“Does it say what happened to the bodies?” asked Dean.

The proprietor shook his head. “Just that they were all cremated.”

“Anything else?” you asked.

“Yeah. Actually, I found a picture of the family. It's right here. Somewhere. Right— here it is.”

It was a picture of the painting, but something seemed off to you.

“Hey, could we get a copy of this please?” Sam asked the man.

He nodded, and returned a few minutes later with it.

***

You and the boys sat at a table in the motel room and looked over the copy of the picture.

“I’m telling you,” you started, “The picture at the auction house, Dad’s looking down. Here, dad’s looking out. The painting changed.”

“Alright, so you think that Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like he did with his family?” Dean questioned.

“Well, yeah, it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted, then how are we gonna stop him?” Sam asked.

“Maybe other things changed in the painting, too. Maybe it could give us some clues,” you answered.

“What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?” Sam asked.

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

Dean looked down at you, confused. “I’m lost. Still waiting for the movie on that one. Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting.” He walked over to his bed and laid back, crossing his arms. “Which is a good thing ‘cause you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend.”

Sam huffed. “Dude, enough already.”

“What?” he responded.

“What? Ever since we got here, you been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, all right?” he said defensively.

“Sam, relax,” you told him.

“Well, you like her don't you?” Dean pushed.

Sam threw his arms up and looked to the ceiling.

“Alright, you like her, she likes you, you’re both consenting adults…” Dean trailed off with a smile.

“What's the point, Dean? We'll just leave. We always leave,” came Sam’s frustrated response.

“Well, I'm not talking about marriage, Sam.”

Sam snarled angrily. “You know, I don't get it. What do you care if I hook up?”

“ ‘Cause then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time,” Dean answered calmly.

Sam stared at him and huffed before looking away.

“Look, I’m not crazy about hookups either, but maybe it would be helpful,” you suggested.

“And this isn't about just hooking up, okay?” Dean continued. “I mean, I think that this Sarah girl could be good for you. And... I don't mean any disrespect, but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right? Now I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that, but... I would think that she would want you to be happy.” Sam’s eyes welled with tears as his brother continued to talk. “God forbid, have fun once in a while. Wouldn't she?”

“Yeah, I know she would,” Sam responded softly. “Yeah, you're right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part.”

“What’s it about?” you asked.

He wouldn’t answer you.

“Well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so…” Dean trailed off.

Sam picked up his phone and cleared his throat. Dean shook his head and closed his eyes, settling back on his bed.

“Sarah, hey, it's Sam… Hey, hi… Good. Good, yeah. Umm. What about you?... Yeah good, good, really good.”

Dean opened one eye and looked at his brother. “Smooth.”

You suppressed a laugh.

“So, ah, so listen,” Sam continued. “Me and my brother were, uh, thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I- I think maybe we are interested in buying it… What?!”

At Sam’s tone, you and Dean snapped to attention.

“Who'd you sell it to?” Sam stood up.

Dean rose and came to stand next to you.

“Sarah, I need an address right now,” Sam urged her.

Once she’d given it to you, you and the boys sped away in the Impala to an upscale neighborhood. You and the boys were surprised to see another car parked right outside the building: Sarah’s.

“Sam, what's happening?” she asked as you and the boys ran up the front steps of the house.

“I told you, you shouldn't have come,” he responded.

“Hello, anyone home?” Dean banged on the heavy front door.

“You said Evelyn might be in danger; what sort of danger?” Sarah asked Sam frantically.

“I can't knock this sucker down. I gotta pick it.” Dean crouched down in front of you and you moved over to the windows, banging on them with all your might.

“What are you guys, burglars?” Sarah yelped.

“I wish it was that simple. Look, you really should wait in the car. It's for your own good,” Sam told her.

Dean got the door open and you followed him inside quickly.

“The hell I will. Evelyn's a friend,” she said, trailing behind you and the boys. “Evelyn?” She moved over to the elderly woman sitting half-turned away from you. Something was wrong and you knew it; the woman’s gaze seemed completely empty. “Evelyn? It's Sarah Blake. Are you alright?” She touched her shoulder gently.

“Sarah, don't. Sarah!” Sam told her.

Evelyn’s head tipped back, exposing her slashed throat.

Sarah jumped back in horror and screamed. Sam put his arm around her and led her out of the room. You and Dean stared up at the painting before following the younger brother out of the house.

***

Back in the motel room, you and Dean clacked away at the keys on your laptops while Sam paced in front of you. A knock on the door stirred all of you from your thoughts. Sarah stormed into the room and brushed past Sam.

“Hey. You alright?” he asked her.

“No, actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's— alone— and found her like that,” she answered, wheeling around.

“Thank you,” Sam nodded.

“Don't thank me. I'm about to call them right back if you don't tell me what the hell's going on. Who's killing these people?”

Sam looked back at you and Dean, and you shrugged.

“What,” he told her.

“What?”

“It's not 'who'. It's 'what' is killing those people,” he explained.

Sarah was still looking at Sam like he was insane.

“Sarah, you saw that painting move,” he sighed.

The woman began to pace. “No, no. I was— I was seeing things. It's impossible.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to our world,” Dean grinned.

“Sarah, I know this sounds crazy, but we think that that painting is haunted.”

Sarah laughed humorlessly but had tears in her eyes. “You’re joking.” She looked between you and the Winchesters. “You're not joking. God, the guys I go out with.”

“Sarah, think about it. Evelyn, the Telescas, they both had the painting. And there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes, people die. And we're just trying to stop it. And that's the truth,” the brunet told her.

“Then I guess you'd better show me. I'm coming with you,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What? No. Sarah no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and… and I don't want you to get hurt,” he admitted.

“Look, you guys are probably crazy, but if you're right about this? Well, me and my Dad sold that painting that might have gotten these people killed. Look, I'm not saying I'm not scared, because I am scared as hell, but I'm not going to run and hide either.” Sarah strutted over to the door. “So are we going or what?” She walked out.

“Sam?” Dean said. “Marry that girl.”

***

You and the boys returned to Evelyn’s house to scope out the crime scene a little further. Sam picked the lock to let you, his brother, and Sarah inside.

“Uh, isn’t this a crime scene?” Sarah protested.

Dean smirked. “You've already lied to the cops. What's another infraction?”

Once inside, you and Sam got the painting down from off the wall to examine it.

“Aren't you worried that it's gonna kill us?” Sarah asked.

“Nah, it seems to do its thing at night. I think we're alright in the daylight.”

You took the copy of the painting out of your pocket. “Sam, check it out. The razor: it's closed in this one, but it's open in that one.”

“What are you guys looking for?” she asked.

“Well, if the spirit's changing aspects of the painting, then it's doing so for a reason,” Dean explained.

“And look, the painting in the painting,” you pointed out. “Looks like a crypt, or a mausoleum or something.”

Dean grabbed a thick glass ashtray and used it as a magnifying glass. You ignored how your body came alight as he wound his arm around you to reach the painting. “Merchant,” he read out.

***

Your next stop was a graveyard. Several, in fact. You stepped over gravestones carefully to avoid disrespecting the dead even further.

“What, are you superstitious?” Dean asked.

“A little, actually. I think I’m in such deep shit with the spirits already; I don’t wanna make it worse,” you laughed.

“You are somethin’ else, woman,” he smirked. “This is the third boneyard we've checked,” Dean addressed your group. “I think this ghost is jerking us around.”

Sam and Sarah talked amongst themselves behind you and you and Dean walked a bit ahead.

“Over there,” you said, pointing to a mausoleum. The group followed you into the mausoleum where you found four urns in front of little glass-fronted boxes on one wall. On the opposite, there were five brass nameplates.

Sarah looked at one of the boxes containing a little porcelain doll with brown hair. “Okay, that right there is the creepiest thing I've ever seen.”

“It was a sort of tradition at the time,” Sam told her. “Whenever a child died, sometimes they'd preserve the kid's favorite toy in a glass case; put it next to the headstone or crypt.”

Wind blew in the mausoleum, sending a chill down your spine.

“Notice anything strange here?” Dean asked.

“Ah, where do I start?” remarked Sarah.

Sam snickered.

“No, that's not what I mean. Look at the urns,” said Dean.

“Yeah. There’s only four. Where’s the dad?” you questioned.

***

You and Dean discovered that Isaiah’s body had been buried in that same cemetery away from the rest of his family. You returned there that night with Sarah in tow.

You stood watch with Sarah while the boys dug the hole down to Isaiah’s corpse.

“You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this,” she said.

Sam climbed out of the hole laboriously. “Well, ah, this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug. Still think I'm a catch?”

You giggled when Dean’s shovel tapped something hard. “Think I've got something.” He cracked the coffin open to reveal Isaiah’s rotten bones. You helped him out of the ground and began pouring salt and kerosene over the body.

“You've been a real pain in the ass, Isaiah. Good riddance.” Dean tossed the match he’d struck down on top of the body.

“God, I will never get used to that smell,” you commented.

“What? Burning flesh?” the older Winchester turned his head to you.

You made a face and scrunched up your nose to which Dean just smirked at you and chuckled.

***

You returned to Evelyn’s house soon after to make sure the job was complete and bury the painting. You and Dean remained outside and told Sam to go in with Sarah. You and Dean smiled at each other before turning the radio up. A love ballad played loudly through the speakers, and Sam turned to the two of you. You both snickered at the “what the fuck” gesture he was giving you. Sam motioned for the two of you to cut the music. You sighed and turned it off.

Before you and Dean could say a word to each other, the door slammed shut behind Sam and Sarah. You and Dean jumped out of the car and ran across the lawn, trying your best to unlock it.

“Guys! Hey! Is that you?” Sam called from inside.

“Sammy, you alright?” the older brother asked. Moments later, you got a call from Sam.

“Tell me you slammed the front door,” you said after you answered.

“Nope, it wasn't me. I think it was the little girl,” he told you.

“The little girl? What girl?”

“What’s he saying?” Dean interjected, leaning close to your ear and the phone.

“Yeah, she's out of the painting. I think it might've been her all along,” Sam said.

You snorted humorlessly. “The dad was trying to warn us all along. He was looking down at her the whole time.”

“Hey, hey, hey, let's recap later all right? Just get us out of here," the younger brother rushed out.

“Well, Dean’s trying to pick the lock, but the door won’t budge.”

“Well, knock it down!”

“Okay, smartass, just let me get my battering ram,” you remarked.

“(Y/N), the damn thing is coming!”

“I know, I know, just hold it off til we figure something out. Get some salt or iron or something,” you responded. “Stay on the phone with me!”

Moments later, you heard Sam say to himself, “What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low-sodium freaks.” Another minute or so went by before he spoke back into the phone. “Uh, (Y/N), give me a sec, don't go anywhere.”

You and Dean began to walk around the outside looking for an alternative entrance. A bit of yelling and crashing was heard on the other end of the phone. “You okay, dude?”

“Yeah, for now,” he responded.

“How’re we gonna waste her?” you asked.

“I don't know, she was already cremated. There's nothing left to burn.”

Dean got close to the phone again.

“Then how's she still around?” you challenged.

“There must be something else!” Sam went silent on the other end, but you could faintly hear Sarah’s voice.

“(Y/N), Sarah said the doll might have the kid's real hair. Human remains; same as bones.”

“The mausoleum,” you and Dean said in unison.

“Hang tight, Sam,” you said, snapping your phone shut. You and Dean sprinted back to the car, and Dean drove as fast and as wildly as he possibly could.

“One of these days, your driving’s gonna fucking kill us all,” you said, gripping the leather of the seat next to you and the door.

“Not now, (Y/N),” he responded evenly, driving even faster. He plowed straight through the fence of the cemetery and drove right up to the mausoleum. You and Dean jumped out of the car and hurried into the building.

Dean pounded the door of the glass box containing the doll with the butt of his gun, and then went to walk out of the mausoleum. “Come on, Dean,” he grimaced. “Cover your eyes!” He told you. He shot at the box, and you shielded your face as he did so. You leapt back into action and knocked away more of the glass with your hands, cutting them as you did so. You ignored the burning in your palms and took the doll out of its case.

You held the doll’s hair over the lighter, which Dean was having trouble lighting. “Come on, come on!” he said. Thankfully, the lighter caught the hairs of the doll and sent it up in flames. You dropped it on the floor between you and Dean and watched the rest of the doll burn.

Dean pulled out his phone moments later to call his brother. “Sam, you good?” He breathed a sigh of relief and hung up the phone.

You looked down at your bloodied hands. Dean followed your gaze. “(Y/N), you maniac, what were you doin’ pawin' at that glass with your bare hands, huh?”

“It seemed like a good idea in the moment,” you mumbled.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” He guided you back to the car. He held your wrists and sat you down in the front seat of his car. He went to his trunk and returned a few moments later. He sat next to you and gingerly began wiping down your hands. You hissed and grabbed his hand at the pain. He looked back up to you and paused momentarily.

“Sorry,” you said.

“All good,” he responded and went back to work. He gently cleaned your wounds with an alcohol-soaked rag and began to wrap up your left hand. You watched as he worked, heart swelling at the kind gesture.

“Thank you,” you said.

“You’d do the same for me,” he muttered.

“I would,” you affirmed, smiling.

He picked a piece of glass out of your right hand. You hissed again.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he said. “This one’s probably gonna need stitches.” He handed you his flask. “Drink this.”

You did as told and took a sip, swallowing sharply as you felt the first prick of the needle in your palm. “I’m not trying to be a little bitch. I’m really not when it comes to pain,” you said. “I can finish stitchin’ me up on my own if you wanna get back to Sam—”

“No. Let me,” he responded authoritatively. He looked up through his eyelashes at you before returning his attention to your fingers. He ran his along yours and gingerly cleaned the cuts, giving special attention to the deeper ones before bandaging the exterior of your hands. You flexed them painfully.

“Thank you. Seriously,” you said softly.

“Any time,” he responded.

***

“This was archived in the county records. The Merchant's adopted daughter, Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? 'Cause her real family was murdered in their beds," Dean explained to you. “Who'd suspect her? Sweet little girl. So then she kills Isaiah and his family. The old man takes the blame. His spirit's been trying to warn people ever since.”

“Huh,” you said. “Psycho bitch.”

He scoffed. “You know you’re talking about a kid, right?”

“Yeah. Psycho bitch all the same.”

You and Dean were waiting outside of the auction house for Sam to finish talking to Sarah. You and he leaned against the car, watching Sarah and Sam talking at the door. Sam turned away from her before turning back moments later. He grabbed Sarah’s waist and pulled him to her, kissing her deeply.

“That's my boy,” Dean smiled.

“Alright, perv,” you remarked. You shoved him down into the car.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @more-espresso-less-depresso-og @mysticmyth @favoritefandoms27 @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h

quite a few tags are broken; so sorry, my loves!! make sure you have my blog notifs on so you don't miss a chapter, and please let me know if ive misspelled your blog name!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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lovexdeepspace · 7 months

Text

birthday celebration | rafayel

summary - rafayel knew the perfect way to repay you for all that you had done for his birthday

warnings - absolutely none save for the fact of how self-indulgent this is

note - i'm a raf girly til the end and with my birthday being the day after his plus the cute little birthday stuff in-game, this was a must. after this, i will start working on the many lovely requests i've been sent! it's such an honor to have been welcomed so warmly into the community!! <3

!! divider by @cafekitsune !!

"rafayel, where are we going?"

with his hands covering your eyes, you were helpless as he led you down what could only be described as a beaten path given how many times you almost tripped. as if you questioning his plans gave any indication you could see, he tightened his hold.

"for the third time now, it's a surprise," he stressed, tapping your temples with his thumbs. "don't you trust me?"

you chuckled and replied, "well, seeing as this whole escapade started because you faked an emergency to get me to rush over, not really."

your smile grew when you heard rafayel huff behind you and you could just imagine the way his cheeks were puffed out.

"it's all part of my plan! you'll see," he retorted, directing you to the right and muttering, "there was a rock."

you laughed and reached up, gently patting his hands. "alright, alright, i trust you. though i hope you know i've got the slightest inclination on what this excursion is for."

"i'd be more concerned if you didn't, honestly," rafayel shot back, suddenly stopping. "i'm gonna take my hands away so close your eyes. don't open them until i say so, got it?"

you nodded, shutting your eyes as asked. you felt rafayel slowly peel his hands away from your face, then take them back as soon as he was sure your eyes were shut. excitement coursed through you as you heard hurried footsteps go from behind you to in front of you, then a bit of a ways away.

"raf?" you called out after a moment, brows furrowing as you grew slightly impatient.

"alright, alright, open your eyes!"

blinking a few times to adjust to the bright sunlight, you gasped when you were able to make out the sight of an elaborate picnic set up overlooking the most picturesque field of flowers you'd ever seen. sitting atop a checkered blanket you recognized from rafayel's studio sat an array of your favorite foods, two glasses, an expensive looking bottle of wine, and the man himself, grinning with his arms spread.

"well? what do ya think?" he asked, extending a hand for you to take. as soon as you got over the initial shock you put your hand in his and allowed him to pull you down next to him. "i found this spot months ago, right before i met you. i was at a real low in creativity and other aspects in life but this view sparked such a vivid inspiration that i thought nothing could rival it."

as he spoke you drank in the scenery, in complete awe of such raw beauty. hues of red, blue, yellow, and green stretched as far as the eye could see, illuminated by the early afternoon sun. you didn't dare pry your eyes away from such a sight, even as rafayel dropped his head to your shoulder.

"how wrong i was," he continued, his fingers lacing between yours. "it was as if the world said 'hold my beer, i got this'. then, bam, you appeared a couple days later! now all sights come second to the one i've got sitting right next to me."

with an embarrassed chuckle you give his hand a loving squeeze, resting your cheek atop his head. with his free hand, rafayel reached behind him and grabbed a small box. he toyed with the ribbon for a second before putting it in your lap gently.

"happy birthday, my love," he whispered, gesturing to the box. you used your free hand to untie the box, opening it to reveal a sole cupcake adorned with red-yellow buttercream and a beautiful gold-pink pearl crowning it. "you always know how to make me feel so special and i can only hope that this—" he gestured to the cupcake, then to the picnic, then the field, "—shows you how much i appreciate you."

#rafayel #love and deepspace #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader

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missmarveledsblog · 2 months

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Angel ( frank castle x reader )

SUMMARY : When frank meets Matt murdock's sister , he become intrigued more and more as he's around the so called angel of hell's kitchen

warnings : violence , fighting etc . mutual pining

Enemies to lovers

Eye scanning over the sign in such pride yet the occasion was not for such occasion , coming back to hells kitchen he was bound to find out she was home . so here Y/N stood outside NELSON AND MURDOCK LAW OFFICE ready to tell her brother she was home and a failure. The admiration didn't last long when she felt herself being pushed forward almost losing her balance completely. " asshole" she grumbled seeing the man not even stopping to apologise or even recognise his actions as he was walking into the same building .

She already rang Karen so at least one person was expecting her. Maybe the redhead could give her advice on the best way to break her news. Walking into the office she let her eyes scan around , it was the same as the pictures she was sent but being in the space physically was a whole other thing. She was proud of her brother and foggy , she used to tease the two and call them dorks all the time. Of course the same jerk from before was sitting there , deep expression on his stupid handsome face.

She rolled her eyes taking a seat barely sparing him a glance looking around to find a familiar face. She went to grab a magazine and heard a scoff looking to see the man's eyes locked on the one she had chosen . " typical" he muttered. " Excuse me, can I help you? '' she asked, almost gritted teeth . " No, just typical you type of gals go for that celebrity shit" he laughed. " You don't know me pal and all you should really be saying is sorry for nearly knocking me over but your type doesn't have a grasp on manners' ' she crossed her legs and began flipping through the articles . '' shouldn't have been standing in the middle of the sidewalk like a ditz then"he shot back . " should barge through people like you can't see them then" she growled. " Look when murdock comes, I'm seeing him first way more important than whatever you got going on" he scoffed. " how do you know what I want?" she rolled her eyes . " let me guess wanna bang pool boy and find a way out of the prenup" he chuckled. The sting of his words wasn't what she needed, not when she was looking down at the picture of her ex fiance and ex best friend's picture .

" hey y/n good to see you" Karen rushed to her side. " hey great seeing you actually i need to do something , i could meet you guys later at Josie's but don't tell my brother ok" she grabbed her things . " hey you ok" the red head face in concern til her eyes fell on the magazine. " shit i didn't know" she took it up . " i'll see you later" was all the girl called out, running out the office completely. " What's her problem?" the man scoffed. "Frank , that's Y/N as in Matt's little sister , she caught her fiance in bed with her best friend. I mean shitty enough dude's famous for some stupid business company so she has to see it everywhere" she ripped the magazine up . " ah shit" he sighed. " What did you do?" She shot the man a look . " i may have been a complete asshole and took my stress out on her, misjudged her completely too, i mean she looked at her , said she was her to get out of a prenup and banging her pool boy" he winced dodging the incoming balls of paper . " You know Matt's gonna kill you right , or she will" Karen growled, rushing off to find the woman herself.

What frank didn't expect was the two women walking backwards as a man held a gun at them . " sit there and tell me where Murdock is' ' he growled. "I'm Murdock '' her voice cool, calm and well intriguing to the man . " y/n i don't think matt can get you out of self defence murder twice '' Karen said confusing the gunman and frank castle . " i won't kill him but if he doesn't put the gun down i will severely hurt him buddy i ain't having such a great time so if you could fuck off it would be great" she huffed unbothered to the firearm directed at her. " you need help?,"Frank called both amused and curious about his tone . Usually he would handle the situation yet the women didn't seem to be worried . "No," she glared at the man . Frank watched as the man's eyes flickered between the two and her hand moved backwards feeling around the table. " Oh look it's matt" she smiled, making the man turn before she grabbed the armed hand , he watched as the magazine clip fell to the floor and she emptied the chamber in the ceiling before smashing the paper weight to the man's gut. " I warned you buddy I ain't having a good day. '' She huffed and punched him once and the man was out cold. "See I don't need your help or opinions" she turned to the man throwing the paper weight into his hands. " You should clean up" Karen winced seeing the blood on her knuckle.

" or you could explain why their bullet holes in my ceiling" she turned to see the familiar smirk of her brother . " what bullet holes, you can't see them" she rushed to him in a hug. " So if I was to stick my cane up there" he asked. " what the halloween prop you carry around" she shot back . " hey Y/N" . " Hey foggy" . " You ok?" Matt asked softly . " I mean i didn't kill him but he will have a headache" she looked down at the still unconscious man. " not what i meant" he chuckled. " I mean it sucked but Jesus those people were draining" she sighed hugging him again , he could tell she was lying but let it go as he squeezed her tighter. " Well, let's bring him to the office to see what he wants," he nodded to the man . "Well punisher there is waiting to talk to you and i need to get back to my hotel room but i'll meet you later" she walked out before they could say anything. " you told her?" Frank asked. " No, she's just good at that sort of thing," he chuckled .

Being in josie now that was way better than the gala's and pretentious socialite events. It was normal people with real life things going on . She saw her brother and the usual gang sitting as well as the man , who she now knew as Frank Castle . " hey angel's back" a voice called. " Yeah, I'm back," she laughed, heading towards the group. " Angel , devil really," Frank laughed. " except people know me" she said smiling a dig . " Hey, before I wanna apologise, I was having a bad day," he began . " and took it out on me yeah i got it" she shook her head rolling her eyes before heading to the bar before the man could even finish his apology. " hey i'm trying to be nice here" he followed. " Ok? You're still a dick , I mean I'm having a shitty time of it and I didn't take it out on those around me" she quipped. " usual please" she called. " Well then how can I make it up to you" he smiled. " Hmm that ones a thinker i'll get back to you" she smirked before taking a sip of her drink . " you're trouble," he shooting her a flirty grin . " You've no idea" she walked and left him standing there . " buddy she will have you praying" a man chuckled. " ain't that what angels are for" he chuckled, heading back to the group.

The rest of the night they let the worries of the world subside for once and enjoyed the moment . The flirty tension between Hell kitchens' own angel and the punisher was so immense that even her own brother could feel it. " I'm going to head off, I need to get up early to see some places" she yawned as they all booed. " hey i need a place to live plus you got jobs to be doing" she laughed . " Wait, I'll walk you back , lotta scary people out there" frank stood. " And I'm the scariest of them all so i'm ok" she laughed walking off . " She's not wrong," Matt snorted . " She is scary , she's made foggy cry before" Karen agreed. " that was only... five times" the man protested sloppily . " go follow after even i can see you want to" Matt teased. " Just don't sneak up on her," Foggy called. " How much is saying those two get together?" Karen asked . " We don't need to be on the obvious" Matt shook his head.

The dark streets of Hell kitchen held many memories both good and a lot of bad for the woman . passing the church seeing her standing there she shook her head still not as forgiving as her brother for the now sister's abandonment. The boxing gym her father spent time in training them both , to the old schoolyard she may have used to those lessons in .

she felt the presence following her like she was prey she felt it second she left the bar. Her brother wasn't the only one who could sense things turning to the dark alley . He stood wondering where the hell she went , one minute she was there and next gone in a split second , his boss wasn't going to be happy about that one that was for sure. Just as he walked further into the alley she watched from the shadows as he appeared making her roll her eyes she grabbed the familiar man holding her finger over her lips not to disrupt their new friend. She walked out, one movement swept his leg from under him and the mysterious man landed on his back. " Why are you following me , you know dark alleyways aren't safe right?" she asked, pressing her foot on his throat. Boss wants you , he knows you are special" the man choked out . " I mean of course I am but what does your boss think is so special?" she pushed harder. " he knows your enhanced" he spluttered and coughed. " your ex has been sharing it around sweetness everyone gonna want the angel" he grunted pulling a knife out only for her to kick it from his hand. " My ex lies honey I wouldn't listen to a word he says he told me he was eight inches " she walked just as he jumped up she swung around kicking him sending him to the ground .

" wanna tell me what that was about" Frank walked out by her side. " i may or may have not signed up for something when i was 18 turned out to be hydra and well got something extra in return" she shrugged. " extra?" . " yeah extra '' she shrugged and continued walking. They were out of the alley within seconds they were surrounded at gunpoint. " Will that extra help us here?" he asked, looking for his own plan. " can't a girl have a bit of mystery," she groaned, lifting her palms as the other men shouted for her to stop. The light on her palms glowing in a sort of purple hue as the guns they head pulled from their hands she used her other palm to pull the men to their knees as her own feet came off the ground . " You took long enough, '' she called out as the devil of hell's kitchen stepped forward. " i had a prior engagement," he gruffed. The two didn't speak for long when her hands pulled the guns apart tiny pieces falling to the ground as the men jumped up . the now devil and punisher fighting side by side in an all too familiar sequence of events . Her own feet hitting the ground panting, one of the assailants finding it the perfect opportunity to try grab her from behind that was til the back of her head hit his nose and the crack echoed through the streets before her hand grabbed his arm throwing him over her shoulder and hitting the ground with a thump . " this could have come up at any time" frank grunt dodging the incoming fists at his face . " I usually don't advertise to asshole men, I can levitate" she huffed, sending a punch to a man's gut . " Can you flirt another time?" Daredevil rasped, sending one to the ground as the three stood around now incapacitated men. " I'll leave the door open , you come on" she grabbed Frank's arm as the two walked off.

Thankfully due to the location and it being dead of night the staff in the lobby of the hotel barely batted an eyelash at their appearance when they strolled in clearly after some sort of altercation . " I'm surprised you're not an avenger or some shit" Frank quipped once both got into the elevator. " I turned them down, starks annoying" she winked until she felt the sting in her abdomen. " your bleeding heavy" he gruffed. " no shit Sherlock," she gritted . " we need to get you somewhere" he went to press the button but she grabbed his hand. " Just help me to my room" she panted, feeling the burning sensation taking over as the adrenaline was clearly wearing off. He wanted to yell at her but she knew more than he did in the situation so he held his tongue. Throwing one hand over his shoulder as his own wrapped around her waist keeping her supported, two walked down the hall as she gave directions to her room .

the minute the door shut she moved to the balcony door. Soon enough the man came in while she walked over toward the corner of the room and hands over the wound as she shoved something into her mouth. A muffled scream the men looked while a strong purple glow from her hands hit , she turned showing the bleeding stopped and the wound closed over. " See" she winced a sway in her step. " grab her she's going to pass out" Matt sighed before pulling the mask from his face. " why isn't this phasing you" frank brought her over laying her on the bed . " She's done this before huh?". " A few times actually , she nearly burned off tony stark's goatee after a comment on her ass " he walked towards the bed happy to hear everything appeared to be stable. " Why haven't you gotten her to help you out?" . " whether enhanced or not, she's my baby sister who used your brain" . " you Murdocks are trouble and pain in my fucking ass" frank huffed out pulling a bottle from the mini bar. " Well you like at least one of us and I know it's not me, '' he smirked.

" she is not safe here" he completely ignored the man's observation and sly comment . " I'll come back as well as me and we bring her back to mine , stay with her" Matt threw his mask on. " Well, where else am I going to go?" he looked up to see the man was already gone. " hate when he does that" he took his drink and seat . eyes stuck to her form how peaceful she was when her mouth wasn't running although he'd did secretly like it. But now that nickname angel made sense the ethereal effortless beauty that she had . He needed to stop staring before he got completely lost in her .

Matt returned half an hour later to some nervous looking kid driving the car as they carried her out . " how old are you 12 " Frank joked. " I'm the same age as Angel, I'm 24 sir" he squeaked out . " God Mr stark is gonna kill me" he muttered. " ok that's sorted come parker drive " matt got in the car . " She is still stable," he called back . " She hasn't woken up either, " Frank said, seeing her still sleeping head on his lap . " How's her healing factor holding? " the boy asked . " How's her, what , who is this kid". "Peter Parker sir , spiderman" he whispered in the last part . " She can heal herself," Matt added. "your fucking with me right" frank asked only for matt to lift her top slightly to show the wound from earlier was almost gone . " Anything else I'm missing here" he asked the two. "Not yet anyways thanks for lift kid" matt patted his shoulder as two got frank still carrying her as Parker drove off. " really he's the Web slinger" . " she waking up let her get inside" matt walked ahead. "Ominous asshole," Frank grumbled, stopping when he heard the little laugh . " hey if you're awake you can walk " he looked down to see her eyes shoot close making him laugh shaking his head carrying her in. " ok ok where here free ride over" she went to drop her but her feet hit the floor first.

"Little shit" he mumbled as she went straight to her bag. " oh shut up you were worried about her less than ten minutes ago" . " Worried about little old me , I'm honoured" she snorted, heading to the bathroom. " definitely a pain in my ass" he fell back on the sofa. " Yeah, tell that to you that thing you call a heart" matt chuckled. " fuck off and shut up" he added eyes locked towards the bathroom . " I hate to even say this but she's the same , she just hides it way better" Matt handed him a beer. " Who hides what better?" she asked. " Karen hides her feelings better" Matt spoke up . " Being blind didn't heighten your lying sense huh?" She took his own beer out of his hand before sitting on the sofa. " You sure he's actually blind though," Frank asked her. " finally someone else who questions it" she raised the beer up . " You two are made for each other" he walked out of the room . " we're right, I mean I changed this place around so many times and no accidents" she yelled out. "Goodnight assholes , angels don't cook, I don't need my place to burn down" he called back .

" pfft that was one extremely high as hell time and it only burned like half the kitchen down" she laughed nervously. " wait the saint in there let you get high" . " hey jesus isn't against weed , i mean i was first and last time was kinda snuck into a frat party , tried to be like yeah i'm cool , didn't end so well" she winced. " Something I gotta ask, how did you know who I was? Matt said he didn't tell you, " he asked . " I rang Matt during a time you guys were working together and well he said he was with a friend , the punisher you yelled for him to wrap it up along with more colourful words , so when i heard you today" she smiled . " Good memory," he nodded. " I've what they call the perfect brain. I don't use it that often clearly given my life choice but I remember things I hear and see made me prime candidate for that stupid trial they said it was" she grimaced . " the experiments , what made you do it?" . " Jesus, I never had so many questions and I've been arrested a lot" . " not very angel like now is it sweetheart" he teased . " I'm more fallen angel than heaven sent" she winked . " Well where did that come from then" he asked when he saw how her smile faltered. It seemed like the wrong question. " my dad called me , called me so many folks forgot i had a real name" her voice was less playful than before . " hey sorry i didn't mean to bring up anything bad for you" he rambled. " nah it's ok really , you wanna another beer , you hungry?" She stood up quickly. " I'll take the beer , I might pass on the food from that slight warning" he chuckled. " I'm ordering a pizza jackass" she rolled her eyes . " Well then yeah i could eat" . " I decide if you deserve it now" she tapped her chin walking backwards stumbling after hitting a chair . " blind my ass," she muttered as her cheek flushed and a frank laugh filled the living room.

" Hey, you're supposed to be on my side" she pouted. " with you murdock's nah" he shook his head. " oh shut up i'm already your favourite" she stuck her tongue out. " maybe" he muttered when she couldn't hear him . " I'd say we're even, I mean you being a dick at first to helping me out" she came in handing him the beer. " I think you owe me one for that actually" . " what would that be?". " I think you should let me think about that over dinner tomorrow night" he said calmly and cool yet his heart was beating so fast he was probably sure Matt could hear it and was gonna give him shit. " pick me up at 7" she played it cool and honestly glad her voice didn't betray her . " fuck it" was all she heard before her face was pulled toward him and her lips hitting his. It was sort of a kiss she never felt so much emotion in before , like maybe she was doing it totally wrong til now. She leaned more into the action tilting her head so she could deepen it. His hands gripping her waist before pulling her completely onto his lap like she was always meant to be there , the soft sigh from her lips told him she felt the same way . " NO HAVING SEX ON MY SOFA '' the yell made them stop ,foreheads resting against each other before they broke into a fit of laughter like two teenagers being caught by their parents. " would have been easier if he was deaf" she joked. " I HEARD THAT" . " to answer your question earlier , he definitely is not my favourite Murdock" he smirked before leaning up and capturing her lips again .

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #jon bernthal #daredevil #matt murdock #karen page #foggy nelson #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #frank x reader

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luveline · 2 years

Note

Could we get a second part of your recent fic where reader catches their cold + being tired from work and maybe even Eddie having to call her work/go in to get her from work since she insists on not being able to miss a day perhaps? :,)

thank you for your request! eddie and roan fem!reader

Eddie's expecting your call.

"Munson Junior, it's for you!"

He scoots out from under the truck he's assessing as quickly as he can. He hadn't touched anything, and if he had it wouldn't matter — the phone in the shop is layered in years of grease, mud, and sweat. He tries not to touch his face with it.

"Hello?" he asks.

"Hi, handsome."

"What's up? How's your head?"

You sigh softly. "About that. I have like, an aura migraine? I think? Is that what they're called?"

"What's the matter?"

"It's not too bad, really, it's probably not that. The– the lights are really bright. I was gonna go home but I don't think I can drive."

Eddie looks behind him into the mechanics. There's enough guys in today to survive without him, especially if he sweet talks Wayne into picking up his slack.

"So you want me to come and get you?"

He can hear you taking a breath coloured in hesitance. "Would that be okay?"

"Well, it'll cost you. What have you got?"

You audibly move, phone shuffled against fabric or hair. "Uh, I got a bag of cough drops, a rewards card for the cake emporium, lip smackers, and… uh, one of Roan's socks. Huh."

"How many stamps on the reward card?"

You laugh but stop short, a low groan sounding down the line.

"I'll be right there," he promises. "Wait for me by the main door, okay? I'll idle."

It doesn't take much convincing for Wayne to agree to do Eddie's last oil change, so Eddie clocks out early. The drive to your work is out of the way, and by the time he gets there he's full to bursting with worry. He idles right outside the building and sure enough, you stumble out, hand over your eyes to hide from the sun. He frowns as you round the hood and climb into the passenger seat.

"Hey," he says softly.

"Hi, handsome."

"You okay?"

Your face crumples up. "Don't ask me, okay? I was keeping it together 'til you asked me."

Eddie leans over the console to kiss you, taking your cheek into his hand. His forehead presses to yours without force. One kiss, two.

"You're okay," he says against your lips.

"I feel so shitty," you say. "Is this how it felt for you?"

Eddie reluctantly moves back into his seat, releasing the strain of the belt against his chest. "I don't know, I don't remember now, it was a week ago. Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm gonna take care of you."

"I wasn't worried," you mumble.

Your eyes are still closed, your shoulder pulled up to your cheek defensively. Eddie pulls your seat belt around you and starts back down the road he came. You're quiet to Hawkins Elementary, little more than tense breaths. He squeezes your thigh when he can spare his hand, and rubs your shoulder after he's parked.

"I'm gonna go get Ro. Don't go anywhere."

You smile. It's like a shot of relief.

Roan's in her usual good spirits, chattering and swinging her hand in his, though when she sees you in the passenger seat she bursts into a run, dragging Eddie across the parking lot, her hand reaching for the door.

"Roan, she's not feeling good," Eddie says hurriedly, before Roan can throw herself at the door and harass you with love.

"Oh no."

"Uh huh. Be gentle, okay? She's got the world's worst brain freeze."

You must hear their voices, turning your head as they approach, squaring your pained expression into something more neutral. You prop open the door.

"Hey, there's my girl," you coo.

"Dad says your brain is freezed," Roan says, stepping one foot into the car's footwell so she can rest her arms in your lap.

"Too many slurpees at work," you say, nodding. "But it's worth it, 'cause I get to come home early and see you. I missed you."

"Yeah! You can watch Princess Polly now, you missed it every day."

Her voice is high and sweet, and every word she says makes you smile, though your left eye has started to squint closed. "Exactly, bub. There's always something good in the bad."

You don't really pay attention to Princess Polly. Eddie forces some electrolytes into your system via a brightly coloured vitamin drink you'd bought for him only a week ago, and after that you sort of just slump. Roan doesn't seem very happy.

"You're not watching," she says, pouting.

You reach for her blindly. Your hand finds her elbow.

"Sorry, babe."

"Let's give her some space, okay?" Eddie asks gently, not wanting to spark any tears. "She has a headache like I did, remember? When your tummy hurt?"

Roan frowns more and goes to move away, but you peel open your dry eyes to send her a reassuring smile.

"You don't have to go anywhere. I'm sorry I'm not watching the TV, just the light's hurting my eyes. I'd love a hug if you want one, though?"

Roan doesn't think about it. She steps across the couch cushions into your lap, curling into a ball against your tummy. "The light hurts?"

"A little bit."

Roan looks up at you, then Eddie. "Well, we should turn it off."

"Oh, no, that's okay. I'll just close my eyes."

Roan looks at Eddie. Eddie shrugs at her. "It's okay," he says.

Roan ends up hugging your arm with her entire body, eyes on the TV. Eddie doesn't make dinner — he can feel a takeout order impending. He sits in the seat beside you and delights at your body slowly gravitating to his, your cheeks finding a home on top of his shoulder. You hug Roan like she's a hot water bottle and it sucks —you're still sick— but everyone's okay.

"Can I get you something?" he asks quietly.

"Magic spell?" you ask.

He kisses the top of your head tenderly.

You rub your cheek into his t-shirt. "Cured me. Thanks, Eds."

#eddie and roan #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie x mom!reader #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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little-teacupss · 27 days

Text

Memes/Vines/Sounds with MFH and the VK's!

Warnings: mild cussing and Hook's trauma

___________________________________________

Hook: I put red lipstick in your Valentino white bag.

Fay: Lipstick in my Valentino white bag! Wha- what-

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Fay: Just wait til Peter gets free, then you'll be sorry, Hook!

Hook: Wait, you call me this too? Is this a universal thing? How long have people been calling me this?

Morgie: Well, isn't it that your name? Hook?

Hook: NO! It's James! Who told you my real name was related to the worst accident of my life!?!?!?

Hades: -exists-

Hook: Oh my gosh, that's so mean.

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Morgie: Is it his eyes?

Hook: - takes sunglasses off -

Morgie: Is it his smile?

Hook: - smirks -

Morgie: Is it-

Hook: Stop! If you must love me - stares into Morgie's eyes - love me for my IQ!

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Hook: There are just too many dads living here in this home.

Morgie: And just what is that supposed to mean?

Hook: Well, haven't you ever seen that show my three dads!

Hades: Yeah, it's called full house, you dipshit.

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Hook: Is there a cactus where your heart should be?

Maleficent: What's up your ass today?

Morgie: Hey.

Maleficent: Hm, never mind.

Uliana: - random eating sounds as she watches this unfold -

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Hook: I must be Santa Clause cause I get Ho! Ho! Ho's.

- five minutes later -

Hook: I actually don't.

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Uliana: Look at this fat, giant, morbidly, obese squirrel. What are you doing?

- shows a picture of Bridget -

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Fay: It was gay. Why should I have to apologize, I saw gay, so I said gay, that ain't bully that's an astute observation!

- Hook and Morgie in a room alone -

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Hook: We're like a big happy family, and I'm the dad, Uliana's the mom.

Uliana: Why am I the mom? What kind of gender roles are we assuming here?

Morgie: I know there probably thinking I'm the son, but no I'll be the gay, emo cousin.

Fay: and I am the son the hot shot who just wants to be a star.

Maleficent and Hades: And I'm the sassy aunt who talks shit about everyone

___________________________________________

Fay: I was silent.

Uliana: Were you silent, or were you silenced?

Fay: I was silenced.

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Morgie: Would you kiss the pope if he asked?

Hook: If he asked me to kiss him, no way, dude, never kiss someone who asks you to kiss them. You know that's rule 101.

Morgie: That's a rule?

Hook: That's rule 101 of the book, Morgie.

Morgie: They say you.

Hook: Bro, you're gonna tell me if an old man walked up to you and said 'kiss me'.

Morgie: No, not just any old man.

Hook: If it's the pope, and he comes up to you and says,'kiss me'.

Morgie: You gotta ask me.

Hook: Wha- no, he's no.

Morgie: You can't demand me to kiss you, I'm not gonna kiss me.

Hook: Can you kiss me?

Morgie: I'd be like I can.

Hook: Will you kiss me?

Morgie: I don't know.

Hook: Your being a flirty little bitch aren't you!?

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Fay: Get this in every group of friends. There's the dumb one.

- they all point at Morgie -

Morgie: Really?

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Hook: I'm so sorry. I think your sister maybe having my second son.

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Fay: What they didn't know was a romance was blooming.

- Hades and Maleficent look at each other -

Fay: A romance lasting a lifetime!

Maleficent: No!

___________________________________________

Fay: Let me see what you have there!

Hook: A knife!

Fay: No!

___________________________________________

Anyway, I hope you all like this. If you want to see a part two, just tell me, and thank you all so much for keeping up with MFH. You've truly made my co-founder @giveityourworst, and my dreams come true!

Tagged list: @giveityourworst, and @brokenmilkcrates. If you want to be on the tagged list, just ask!

Anyway til the next story! Ba bye!

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universallydestinytaco · 1 month

Text

The Little Smiling Mermaid (Chapter 8)

Guess what kind of feral edgelord gremlin has eight legs and one bad attitude? 🔮 Also double the musical numbers, double the fun! :D

As Damien rested under a tree to take his mind off his blunder, his eye briefly caught Pim, plus a reluctant Alan and Glep, all swimming off with the unscrupulous eel taking them somewhere. Damien closely inspected with open ears as they swam farther, catching wind that he was taking them to see a miracle worker who could grant one's heart's desire, and in Pim's case, legs. Knowing right away that something was a miss, he followed the party in an attempt to set right what he did wrong. "Pimberly, no!" Damien cried, catching up from behind. Pim whipped his head back and shot the nastiest glare he ever gave towards him. "Look, I know we've been distant for so long, but you gotta believe me, I tried to tell him not to destroy-" Pim furiously chewed out Damien: "You left me behind like Amy did and joined in with the rest of the family ostracizing me and Graham for years and NOW you want to have anything to do with me? Not to mention snooping around and revealing where I was hiding!? IS THIS JUST A SICK JOKE TO YOU!?" Damien backed away, not used to the usually sweet and passive mercritter just now unleashing his wrath. "Pimberly...It wasn't my choice...I tried to stop it...please don't follow this guy, I have a sneaking suspicion you're getting tricked!" he fruitlessly pleaded, Pim replied before swimming off in a huff, not looking back: "Why don't you go tell our father? You're good at that!" Damien stayed in place, witnessing the headstrong Pim trail off once again, before his conscience nagged at him to at least quietly follow and make sure his littlest sibling wasn't getting into trouble.

Charlie woke up in the twilight hours of the night, after one peculiar dream where he was about to propose to Mipnessa in front of his friends, family, and nameless background peons until the mysterious rosy-haired stranger emerged from the sea in a sparkling blue dress to lure him away with her beautiful voice; Next thing he found himself breathing underwater and the beautiful mystery lover he swam with turned out to be a mermaid. Charlie immediately recalled the time-around these hours was when he first met the pink maiden. Suddenly having a hunch he might get another change to reunite with “her”, Charlie carefully tip-toed outside to run out to the beach side near his castle, observing closely on every corner, yet still no sign of the mystery critter (yet). Perhaps “she” was angry over “her” cloak being given away to someone else, or maybe “she” was just waiting for the right time to save him again. Feeling overwhelmed, Charlie had to let it all out: “All I ever wanted was the open sea and sky.... freedom from the life I always knew... now all I am is haunted as days and hours roll by, all I ever think about is you…” Charlie felt the wind blowing in his face and the waves becoming stronger as he poured more of his feelings into his song: “There you are, over me, taking me with your song... to wild uncharted waters~ Miles beyond the sea! I was darkness-bound, I had almost drowned 'til you came around, and you found me!! Now I am on the shoreline but I'm still lost at seaaa! in these wild uncharted waters, come find me...again...” Suddenly it all came back to Charlie, the wild party that went off the hook and lead him to that fateful encounter, oh how it started to rev up his adrenaline. “All I do is wonder who you are and where you'll be~ In my mind, your melody goes oooon~ stronger than the undertow~ The night you rescued me, silhouetted by the rising dawn~” Vivid flashbacks haunted Charlie's memory, it all became clearer now: the loving, gentle critter who sang to him after saving his life juxtaposed to the sting of guilt he felt over how he just-so happened to be Mipnessa's suitor. How's he gonna explain this dilemma? "Oh, over you...I cannot get over yooou in wild uncharted waters beyond where man can see~ when your eyes outshine the horizon line~ and you're finally real, here beside me~ Now I'm right here on the shoreline~ I'm right where you left meee! And your voice is like a siren that guides me to wild uncharted waters~ alone, just you and meee! And I hope you're there in the open air~ There's no map or compass to guide me! No time may change the shoreline but time will not change meeee~!" Charlie faced the roaring tides, singing one last passionate vent of frustration and love: "If it takes my life, I will finally find you aaaagain!~ In uncharted waters, come find me aaagaaaain!!!~"

"Well, what are you waiting for? Come on in." An ominous voice echoed from inside a freaky-looking cavern fashioned out of a long-dead sea beast's remains, with crop of long spindly vines to have long-claimed it's dominance over the massive corpse as a long period of time passed, much of which made some admittingly cool-looking curtains. As Pim (hiding Alan and Glep in his hair) slowly proceeded, he felt as if where stringy little hands trying to reach out to him, as he turned around he was surprised to find that some of the vines decorating the cavern where seemingly trying to hold him back from potentially making a decision he'd regret for all time. Pim had finally caught a glimpse at the fabled sea witch himself, lounging on an anemone sofa and casually watching a couple bicker on his crystal ball. The sea witch casually muttered: "Oh yeah, and don't go lurking in my doorway like that, that's just annoying." Pim swam inside the witch's room and curtsied, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a bother...My name is-" The witch sassed back: "Honey, you're a critter that needs no introduction! I know all about you! You're the little scamp who fled from that ever-burning shipwreck of a palace!" Pim felt creeped out. "How do you know about me?" The witch let out a bold laugh, getting off his sofa and putting on some theatrics as he swam around Pim with a doting voice: "I'm kinda like your guardian angel watching over you, making sure everything would lead to you finding me so I could make your biggest dream come true...they call me Grim around these corners." Pim greeted: "Thank you helping me, Grim." Grim got down to business, further elaborating: "Now, then, you're here... because you have a thing for this land critter, this uh...Prince fella?" Pim replied: "Not only that, but because the surface is such an amazing place and I'd love to further explore it! My father always told me it was cruel and uncaring, but from what I've seen it's gorgeous and full of life!" Grim couldn't help but remark: "You must be real easily-amused, because from what I've seen, it's more boring than dangerous....not that I blame you. That land critter is quite a catch, isn't he?" Pim grinned and nodded in agreement. "Well, angelfish, the solution to your problem is simple! The only way to get what you want is to-" "-become a land critter myself!" "Woah there, bloke, did I ASK for you to cut me off?" Pim bowed his head in regret, "I'm sorry." Grim put his finger under Pim's chin and pushed it up so they'd meet eye-to-eye, only for the shy critter's pupils to trail off. "But, of course I can do that, that's what I do! It's what I live for: to help poor little bastards like you who have no one else to turn to!" The music started up, Alan and Glep (plus Damien spying in a blind spot) anxiously anticipated what this magician had up his sleeve.

"I admit that in the past, I've been a little nasty~ They weren't kidding when they called me a real sunnovabitch! But you'll find that nowadays I've mended all my ways! Repented, seen the light and made a switch True? Yeeees~ And I fortunately know a little magic, It's a talent that I aIways have possessed! And here lateIy, please don't laugh, I use it on behalf Of the miserable lonely and depressed-" Grim couldn't help at make a side-glance with a snark- "Pathetic."- before continuing his song. "Poor unfortunate soooouls~ In pain, in neeeeed~" He conjured up an image of two of his past clients, a weakling shrimp and a brunette mermaid with lovely green eyes and freckles, both of which looked down in the dumps. "This one longing to be stronger, that one's a pretty lonely girl! And do I help them?" He altered the images to make it so that not only they where happily wed, but that the shrimp possessed a true "Alpha Male" physique. "Yes, indeed!" Grim made the images vanish, continuing: "Those poor, unfortunate souls~ So sad, so true! They come flocking to my cauldron, crying: Spells, Grim, please! And I help them? Yes, I do! Now it's happened once or twice, Someone couldn't pay the price..." Everyone witnessing Grim got increasingly nervous. "...and I'm afraid I had to rake 'em across the coals!" Grim grinned menacingly, before he waltzed across the room and wrapped his head around some curtains: "Yes, I've had the odd complaint! But on the whole I've been a saaaaint~ To those poor unfortunate sooooouls!!" He took Pim by the hand to his cauldron in preparation for the spell.

"Now, here's the deal...." Grim conjured another image, a silhouette of Pim happily skipping around with legs. "Listen closely...I'll make you a potion that'll give you legs for just three days, take it or leave it, before the sun sets on the third day, you've got to get dear old Princie to fall in love with you! All you need is a kiss of true love to seal-the-deal and make you a land critter permanently!" Pim gulped, asking: "...and if I don't?" Grim made the image vanish as he hissed: "You'll dissolve into seafoam, never to be seen or heard from again." Alan cried out: "NO!" before the vines grabbed his mouth. "Have we got a deal?" Uneasy, Pim opined: "If I become a land critter forever, I'll never see my friends again." Grim reassured: "But, you'll have your man, and your family will finally get off your back!" Pim realized how safer he'd feel with them, especially his father, out of the picture. Grim expounded: "Life's full of tough choices, innit? Oh yeah, one more thing: we haven't discussed the subject of payment! You can't get something for nothing, you know." Pim admitted: "I don't have any-" before Grim ultimately cut him off, wagging his finger: "Oh nonono, I don't ask for much really, something so insignificant that you won't even miss it! What I really want from you is....your voice." "...my voice?" "You got it, Pinkie! No talking, singing, zip." "But without my voice, how can I talk? I don't even know sign language and I guess I could write on paper-" Grim rolled his eyes and snapped out: "COME ON! You poor unfortunate sooooul!! Go ahead, make your choice!" Grim immediately got to work tossing ingredients in the cauldron as he prattled off: "I'm a very busy critter who doesn't have all day! It won't cost much, just your voice! You poor unfortunate sooooul! It's sad, but true~ if you want to cross a bridge, my sweet, you've got to pay the toll! Take a gulp and take a breath and go ahead and sign the scroll!" Gnarly presented the scroll to Pim, who hastily wrote it down to the horror of Alan, Glep and the stealthy Damien. Gnarly swam up to Grim and whispered: "Boss, we finally tricked the boy!" Grim belted out with a miraculous spin as the potion was completed: "THE BOSS IS ON A ROOOOOOOOOLL!!! THIS POOR UNFORTUNATE SOOOOOOOOOOOOUL!!!!" Gnarly opened a book of spells, black leather-bound with a gilded sigil, turning to a particular page Grim read off: "Paluga, sarruga, come winds of the Caspian Seaaaaaaa~ Now rings us glossitis and max laryngitis la voce to meeeee!!!!" Grim, looking like an unhinged madman pointed towards Pim, commanding: "Now...sing." Doing as he was told, Pim sang like the last time, but instead the deep admiration and jealousy where replaced with uncertainty, fear and hoping for the best. Pim helplessly witnessed his own voice escaping his mouth, entering Grim's iconic seashell necklace to be sealed for lord-knows how long. Grim once again reassured, yet with a tone less faux-comforting and more intimidatingly: "Don’t worry, I’ll keep it safe and soundless here with me..." Emerging from the cauldron was a small glass vital that Grim caught with one of his tentacles, presenting it to Pim. "On a scale of 1 to 5, how would you rate that?" Pim opened his mouth, until realizing what he just traded for the potion, so he raised his stubby hands with all his fingers up on the left and only one finger up on the right. "There you go, now slug that sucker down! Bottom's up!" Pim opened the bottle and drank from the tiny vessel until there was no more...all of a sudden Pim started glowing as sparks of light started bursting around him, it was as if fireworks got set off in the room, then he suddenly felt a sharp pain slash at his tail, as if a sword was slicing him in half. He wanted to scream in pain but he could no longer feel his gills as all of a sudden the poor critter could no longer breathe underwater. Scared out of their wits, Alan and Glep immediately rushed over to lift Pim and guide him out of Grim and Gnarly's lair and upwards towards the surface.

Damien couldn’t believe what he bore witness to, his littlest sibling, let alone any mercritter for that matter, successfully gaining legs and becoming a land critter. Still, he didn’t trust Grim nor Gnarly one bit. He sprang out of his hiding spot to confront them. “You! What have you done?!” Gnarly quipped: “Hey boss, another costumer.” Grim joined in: “Well if it isn’t all-brawn and no-brains himself: the Fresh Prince of Meeplantica?” Damien scowled, demanding: “I’m NOT letting my littlest sister turn into sea foam!” before slumping in a rare vulnerable disposition, groveling: “…I’ll do anything to prevent such a thing….not my Pimberly…” Grim grinned, asking: “Anything, you say?” Gnarly immediately piped up: “Shave your head bald and eat dirt, then will spare-“ Grim cut his dimwitted henchman off by wrapping one of his tentacles around his face, prattling off: “As I meant to say, I’d be delighted to spare your little Pimberly! But first, you must fulfil a super important task! It'll be hella difficult but don't fret! It's all gonna work out in the end..."

Everything had been a blur to Pim ever since he took that quaint little potion, all of a sudden being underwater like he always had been his entire life now felt completely alien to him, not to mention he had to get used to swimming without fins, let alone gills. Just in time for the break of dawn, Pim dramatically emerged from the sparkling waves while flipping his rosy curls back, taking his first breath of fresh air as a land critter before being lead by his two brave friends to a nearby shore. Alan served the former sea Princess some pep talk in his usual air of monotone sass: "Come on now, Pim, you just have to put your back into it!"

✨ Chapter 9 Arrives September 6th ✨

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