#*tries not to get livid while i write this*

[frog-with-no-therapy]

That villain scientist peter parker au won't leave my head

Worst of all is that it's evolving to something more, much more, and there are some twists?? And character development?? Found family that may end up tragically??

Also somehow Felicia Hardy, Johnny Storm, and Miles Morales become something of a main characters themselves in this, and their interaction with peter is sweet, funny, a bit tragic, and found family vibes over all

And listen I love this a lot but I also know that if I let this be any deeper I may start taking things into my own hands, and I absolutely can't afford nor the time nor the effort for that so please for the love of god someone take this off my hand and write something for it please

[tender-rosiey]

MY DEAR AND BEAUTIFUL ROSE<3. I saw that your requests are open and I wanted to ask about my husband (Sukuka cough cough) a scenario where the husband Sukuna saves the reader from the enemy, or someone tries to kidnap and hurt his wife! you write Sukuna's feelings so beautifully <3

fools' sentence — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: bro you're too kind ilysm; I really hope you like this too <3

if only you listened to that rude servant about not going out of the castle.

it’s a bitter thought really, but you just couldn’t let your pride be scarred by somebody who doesn’t even speak to you in a minimal amount of respect.

so, in a way, you’re okay with dying a proud queen who doesn’t let anybody disrespect her.

“oh, we are going to have so much fun with you, and that monstrous husband of yours will just see your mutilated body after we’re done with you,” the guy grins devilishly. you back up slightly.

okay, so maybe, you don’t want to die just yet.

“that impudent woman! she disobeyed me, and now, we are stuck looking for her, so we can find her before sukuna returns!” the servant complains loudly while walking the halls of the castle.

“and who is that impudent woman you speak of? surely, it isn’t my wife you’re addressing in such a manner,” a voice—a very distinct and well-known one—says from behind the servant.

only then does she realize the shadow that suddenly was casted from above her.

she quickly falls to her knees and starts stuttering out her apologies and excuses, “o-of course not, my lord! how could I ever speak ill of the lady of the castle! her presence is to be respected, naturally!”

after she is done, she lets silence fill the room. assuming that sukuna has believed her, she lets out a sigh of relief, and her body relaxes ever so slightly.

however, an ear-piercing scream is ripped out of her throat when sukuna steps on her foot, so roughly that it breaks.

sukuna groans, annoyed at the incessant scream and wailing of the lady, and he throws a question, “where is your queen?”

the woman keeps on sobbing but tries to speak out nonetheless, “s—she, she,” she hiccups, but sukuna has no time to listen to her bellow.

“faster! where is she?”

she buries her face in the ground to quieten her sobs, but she doesn’t get the chance to respond to him when uraume appears out of thin air.

they kneel to the ground and speak humbly, “my lord, lady y/n has been taken as a hostage by a group of sorcerers.”

sukuna eyes’ widen, and he frowns.

he quickly turns to leave but not before making a command, “uraume, every servant who was careless and caused her disappearance is to be beheaded immediately.”

you thank god for men being prideful creatures who love speaking about themselves. you only asked them once about their accomplishments and raids, and they never stopped talking.

with a couple of positive encouragements from you, they talked and talked till the sun went down.

the doors of the room you’re trapped in slams open, and a fearful boy screams out, “sukuna—sukuna is here!”

“what?!” they all snap, and you grin. finally, you were going to be freed from this cage.

unfortunately, one of the men notices your beaming expression. his face contorts, livid, and he quickly fists your hair in his hand. you let out a scream, but he slams you against the wall.

he shouts, “shut up! you’re the one that lured him here! you stalled till he could find you! you wretched woman!”

“are you stupid?! you take his wife, and you expect him to stand idly by?!” you reply, voice hoarse, and unable to accept taking what he said lying down.

you can’t, however, control the dizziness that hits you, and you can feel blood trickling down your nose.

the only thing that comforts you is the sound of slashes and the calling of your name by your darling husband.

you smirk at the man above you and whisper, “ever saw sukuna in action?”

the man grits his teeth and before he throws a punch at your face, the door flies and gets crushed into pieces. the man quickly throws you away, so he can focus all his energy on sukuna.

but, sukuna instead moves to be right by your side and shields you from the ground.

he wraps an arm around you and pulls you a bit closer.

his eyes carefully scan you; he clenches his jaw at the sight of the blood. he carefully wipes it and moves your face towards him with one of his hands. he speaks up, “you alive?”

“don’t you ignore me, sukuna—” the man sneers, but he is quickly silenced. he sees his tongue flying to the ground. the sight scares him to the core, he starts screaming—or his attempt at one.

his knees feel weak, and he falls to the ground. his blood pools slowly on the ground.

sukuna shifts your focus back to him again, and you respond slowly, “alive and kicking,” raising a thumbs up. he nods and gently lays you down on the ground.

you wince a little and complain lightly, “this place is dusty.”

he hums, “wait a second.”

your husband rises to his feet and turns to the man. sukuna approaches the man, taking his time with each step. anger swirls violently inside of him, and his eyes looked down sharply at the man.

the sorcerer quivers and covers his mouth; he quickly backs up to the wall. he sukuna scoffs, “you’re still annoying even after taking your tongue out?”

the man’s pride almost causes him to retort back with a yell of his own.

but then sukuna snatches him up by the hair and stares him right in the eyes, “for every strand of hair you’ve touched on her head, I will make you bellow in pain till your vocal chords are ripped into shreds.”

you groan and stir lightly. you slowly open your eyes and examine your surroundings. you’re back in the castle; you smile and relax back into your pillow.

“so you’ve finally awaken?”

you turn to your husband with a grin, “hey handsome.”

“why did you leave the castle?”

straight to the point. you prop yourself up on the pillow and sit up. you look at him then look away, “it’s kind of embarrassing actually.”

“not your first,” he responds, and you pointedly ignore him.

“I wanted to greet you before you arrived at the gate,” you murmur then quip, “but I didn’t even go beyond the fence! I was still in the area!”

he listens quietly and sits beside you. he pulls you against his chest, “you do not need to do anything like that.”

you look up at him with a small smile and he finds himself letting out a small breath—of fondness?—he closes his eyes and speaks in absolute manner, “you should know that I will always come for you.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss@pompompurin1028@scul-pted@requiem626k@nameless-shrimp@sonder-paradise@jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1@sad-darksoul@ko-fi-heart@pumpkindudeishere@suyaaachin@babyqueen17@chaosguy352@murakami-kotone@sukun4ryomen@yumieis@hearts4itoshi@sleepyxxhead@dunixxd@sleepycrybbylaiah @imjustaduckwholikesbread @emilyyyy-08@spacebaby1@arabellatreaty@viscade @washeduphasbeen @janbannan @sugurubabe @enidths @mwtsxri @peppersapro @uranosbaaee

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will write your name on the list I give to sylus

[multifandoms27-blog]

Hi!! I've been binge watching TFP, as I've recently just stumbled across it. And already wishing I've seen this show eariler!

May I request TFP Ratchet realizing he's fallen in love with a F/human ally? Honestly just love 'grumpy, gruff hero falls for sweet, caring love interest. But denies it at first till something happens' trope. Can be fluff/smutt. Anything you're comfy with 😊

Thanks and feel free to ignore, if your inbox is full.

Oh my God I literally love Ratchet so much, thank you for this. Finish the show and then watch the movie! I was lucky enough to watch it when it was coming out - I loved it as a kid and I love it now as an adult.

Content: TFP Ratchet x Fem! Hum! Reader

Warnings: None!

Notes: I wrote for Ratchet a lot on my old Wattpad account, or at least what I can remember of it. If anybody wants to see my cringy old writing, my username on there is the same here, Multifandoms27. I also have a four-part TFP Megatron series if anybody's interested. Also I apologize if this is shit - this is my first time writing for Ratchet in literal years so uh, hope you enjoy lol

• ───────────────── •

Ratchet usually didn't bother with the whole romance thing. He was too old for that. Even when you came into the picture, he didn't pay much attention to you. He thought humans were weak links - something that didn't belong in his world.

But through your own effort to get to know him, he slowly warmed up to you. He thought you were one of a kind - smart, funny, understood him in almost every capacity...he loved you. But he would never admit it, not even to himself.

You had been nothing but nice to him, even in the beginning when all he did was snap at you. Thats what softened him, made him draw closer to you. How could something so tiny be so kind to something so...large?

And then, when the children came and he had to grow accustomed to them, then to June and Fowler, he had realized that you had made him so accustomed to humans and made him believe he could finally...no. No, he did not love you.

...At least, that's what he told himself. Until you got hurt.

• ───────────────── •

Optimus had walked through the groundbridge, his servo raised and, for once, a solemn face. One of their own had been hurt, and Ratchet feared Miko finally had gotten hurt from chasing after Bulkhead. But, when Optimus showed him his servo, his spark nearly extinguished.

"(Y/n)! Oh, Primus, no!" He carefully took your unconscious form in his servos and called for June.

Optimus felt responsible for your state, and so he went to lock himself in his berthroom. Ratchet however, tried to assist June anyway he could. But June eventually grew too stressed trying to dress your wounds and assure Ratchet, that she finally snapped on him and told him to get out of the room.

Ratchet went to find Optimus, to ask how you had gotten so hurt. He was angry. He was so livid. How could this have happened to you? To his favorite human?

He knocked gently at first on Optimus' berthroom door. When he got no response, he began to pound on the door. "Optimus, I know you are in there!"

Slowly, the door opened. Optimus stood, staring down at his medic and long time friend. His gaze was quizzical, but he said nothing. Ratchet was even more put off by that. He began to speak. "How did she come to be like that?"

"She must have snuck through the groundbridge when none of us were looking, and-"

"Just tell me how she got this way, Optimus." Ratchet pleaded.

"Megatron was not so kind to her...that is all I'll say, for your sake." Optimus spoke, sadness lacing his tone.

Ratchet grew enraged. "And you couldn't protect her?! Primus, Optimus! You have had more than one chance to defeat Megatron, yet you stand here, sad as an Earth puppy who got kicked, while my (Y/n) is getting torn apart by the most tyrannical Cybertronian in our history! How could you?!"

Optimus sighed and looked off to the side. "Goodnight, Ratchet. We will speak in the morning."

Ratchet protested, but the Prime had already shut himself back in his room. Grumbling, he turned to find all three children staring from around the corner, accompanied by Bumblebee. He grumbled more. "What are you looking at?!"

Bumblebee whirred that you were awake. Ratchet blinked and rushed back into the medbay, where sure enough, you laid there awake and groaning in pain. June looked up and saw Ratchet once more.

"I administered some pain meds just now. She should be okay in about twenty minutes. Her wounds are all dressed." June backed away. "Do you want me to uh..."

"Yes, please." Ratchet waited for June to leave before kneeling next to you. "How are you feeling?"

"...Could be worse." You laughed, then cringed in pain.

"I'm not sure how much worse you could be. I hear you survived Megatron. Well done, sweetspark."

"Sweetspark? That's a new one." You chuckle this time, careful not to create a big pain response like before.

Ratchet blinked in surprise. "D-Did I say that? I meant-"

"It's okay, Ratch." You grinned and placed a hand on his large servo. "I know what you mean."

Ratchet stopped, then slowly and softly smiled down at you. Yes, you always understood him in some capacity...but not every one. You could never pick up on how much he loved you.

Yes, he loved you.

• ───────────────── •

Here's my Transformers masterlist in case you wanna request something!

[krypticcafe]

Can please get fic where young reader almost gets r-word.. like! What happened to ellie on 'the last of us' like make it into that situation, reader kills the rapist and flees away and runs into the 141 team, and their like in this state of like panic, but they calm them down and they explain what happened they are beyond livid so they just reck hell on the people who was with the man who tried to r-word reader.

(this a platonic relationship between reader and the team)

Me and the Devil

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic 141 x gn!reader

warning(s): no use of y/n, dead dove do not eat, non-explicit attempted r*pe, emotional and physical trauma, sexual physical and mental violence, canon-typical graphic violence, comfort

wordcount: ~3.8k

a/n: i'm not exactly sure what anon meant by young, but for context, reader is probably 20-22, I'm just not comfortable writing this kinda stuff for teen or child reader, I hope you don't mind. also, huge, HUGE emphasis on the warnings. though nothing is explicit and there are no sexual graphic terms, the descriptions and actions alone are still very disturbing and uncomfortable! and the violence is a little uncomfy for those not used to it, too. title is from 'Me and the Devil' - Soap&Skin

synopsis: You can see it. The devil. It laughs, and laughs, and laughs, mocks you for your childish stupidity and naivete. To think the angels would come marching in, that you'd make it out with any semblance of sanity. You can't fight it, you can't even hide from it. All you can do is lie in your grave.

Just hours ago, you were alongside the 141, cleaning up and wiping out an enemy base, a typical Tuesday on a summer afternoon. You should've known things would go downhill with how smoothly it was all going. Even Price commented on it with an air of wariness and suspicion. After all, it was a saying that if the fight starts getting too easy, then it's an ambush. And an ambush it was. You want to tell yourself that it was nothing, easy as pie compared to what you've been through. You wanted to say that it was a success and you turned the tables on your enemies. You wanted to say that it ended within a matter of minutes and that you were on your way back to base with your boys, ready for a night of banter at the pub. You'd join Ghost in watching Soap and Gaz try their hand at poker, taking a shot each time Soap's dogshit luck lost him another couple of euros while Price would pry Roach from having another cocktail and piss himself ('it was one time!' he slurs).

But instead, you're here. Locked in a room, bag over your head, tied to a chair, a stereotypical hostage situation but that didn't make it any less tolerable. Though having a potato sack over your head was nowhere near as embarrassing as the reason why you were captured. You tried your best to hold onto the jeep, honestly, you did. Until some ankle-biter decided to latch onto you and sink his teeth into your flesh, causing your grip to loosen and send you tumbling into the dirt. Your bodies slammed into the ground, kicking up dust and your opponent taking most of the fall damage for you. How thoughtful.

Seething at the audacity he had to chomp on your leg like some feral mutt, you gave him a piece of your mind and made sure he'd never bite another ankle again. His friends caught up the moment you were done. They dragged you back down to the coarse dirt and sand of the earth, making you taste and choke on dust. You looked at the lifeless figure in the sand, briefly wondering if you'd be wishing you were him before a bag was slipped over your head and tied like a collar. It didn't help that the sand on the roof of your mouth combined with your ineffective attempts to ration your breathing made for a burn worse than any hard liquor down your throat. Thrashing and shouting like a madman, you cursed them like some teenager who discovered swearing as they tossed you into the back of a truck, rolling you forth with the heels of their boots. Not your finest moment.

Once you were loaded and the rest of them climbed on, the truck shot forward without slowing down for a second, taking you to your own personal hell for the next few days. Knowing the 141, they were probably at the safehouse, planning their next move to retrieve you. In the time between interrogations and routine attempts to break you, you could imagine Soap and Roach pacing around the room, Ghost brandishing a knife with a dark look in his eyes, and Price looming over a map and pulling up contacts with Gaz at his side. While you hated to burden them with your own mistakes, thinking about them all gnawing their teeth in comical anger at your expense brought you momentary comfort, eliciting a small chuckle.

"Something funny?" Much to your ire, all your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of several people shuffling into the room. You could only expect so much privacy in a place like this. The man who spoke up seemed to carry himself like a leader, considering how he spoke above all others and you could hear him carrying out demands every now and then, checking up on you as if he actually gave a shit. And currently, he was on the top of your "to kill" list, along with every other cunt in this prison.

"What'll it be today, more screaming or more silence? You know, you can only stay quiet for so long." He sighed. Judging by the sound of metal screeching on concrete, he pulled up a front-row seat. With a single yank, you were again temporarily freed of the confines of the bag on your face, glaring at the man with a look of ferocity that seemed as if it were etched on your face permanently. His clothes were disturbingly clean-cut and polished despite the blood he spilled for the past few days. Your blood he spilled. "Come now... you know you'll only make things more difficult. Face it, kid, they're not coming, it's been days."

When you felt gloved fingers touch your jaw you snapped, pulling away like an animal restrained by a leash. Your captor let out a taunting "Oooh", and your skin crawled at how he heckled and laughed like some adolescent boy poking a rabid animal with a stick through its cage. "So it bites."

"Fuck you." You rasped.

"And it talks." The humiliation of their nonchalant attitudes made you seethe, you knew it was a tactic to get under your skin and you just wouldn't have it, turning your head away from the men.

"Uh-uh, eyes on me. How is such a fresh thing like you out fighting wars with men like them?" He hummed, gripping your jaw with a strength that took you by surprise and had you wincing. Even though his hands were gloved, it felt as if he were trying to dig into your skin. With no other choice, you were forced to look into his eyes, the pyres of unimaginable anger burning in yours.

However, it was then that you felt it. Something was off. Something was horribly off about him. The several times he'd come in here to either coax you with gentle words or have his men beat you within an inch of your life, he either had some faux kindness or gleeful malice painted across his face. But this time, his eyes were alight with slimy delight. You hated it, Hated how it made you feel small, cornered, pulling on your leash so that you couldn't be yanked from the one place that made you feel safe. You hated how it didn't feel like he was trying to get under your skin, or sink into your bones but instead your mind as if to violate it. You hated how it seemed like he had something more in mind, something that you couldn't predict like a kick to the ribs or a carefully worded reassurance that you'd be in "good hands". It was the one thing you felt like you had control over, knowing what was next, and now you didn't.

With a wave of his hand, his men all filed out of the room, leaving just him and you alone. One came back with a bowl in their hands and you felt yourself doubt your worries. Were you already beginning to lose it in here? "Hungry?" He smiled, taking the bowl and dismissing the soldier. It looked and smelled like a stew, potatoes, and beef, not scraps of stale bread or lukewarm, half-empty beer cans.

"I asked them to make something special today for you, isn't that nice? I suppose even someone like you has a taste for the finer things in life and wouldn't say yes to leftovers." No answer came but it was to be expected as he mixed the stew with a spoon. Your eyes were trained on his face instead, expecting some kind of strings attached. He entertained that expectation by—to your disgust—spitting into the stew, mixing it more, and bringing up a spoonful to your face. "Consider that the cost of being so picky. Open wide, soldier. Surely you won't make a fuss again, now will you?"

There was a pause, you leaned forward, lips ghosting the tip of the spoon before you roughly shoved his chair away from you with your boot. The bowl fell from his hands onto the ground, pooling between the two of you. He could go to hell with his stupid fucking soup.

He let out a scowl of disapproval, his self-satisfied smirk replaced with disgust and irritation like a parent to their troublemaking child. Fine with you, you didn't need that asshole's approval. He stood, grabbing a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping his hands and the small splatters on his uniform. "Should've known better that the government's pets would act like such animals. I gave you a chance, I tried to make this easy for you." He snarled, tossing his handkerchief aside and grabbing you by the collar, "But no, you just had to be a fucking brat, huh? Fine, be one. I can work with that. Either way, you'll be put in your place soon enough."

Before you could comprehend what he was implying, he slashed the ropes that binded you to your chair with a combat knife and shoved you to the floor, your head throbbing as it hit concrete, along with the rest of your aching muscles. Vision blurred, you sat up and tried to make out what he was doing, falling back when he roughly grabbed your hair and shoved your head back down into the ground. Like an alarm, every single flight or fight response went off in your body and yet you couldn't figure out what he was trying, you just knew that this was something worse and that you were a fool to let your guard down for a single second.

A twisted smile broke across his lips, "You know, you have a very lovely voice. You sing the loveliest songs."

Your brows furrowed, confusion flashing across your face until you let out a yelp of pain when he pressed into your stomach, already bruised from previous matters. He let out a sigh that made you shudder and you felt bile creep up your throat, moving your face to the side in fear that you'd choke on it.

"Eyes. On. Me." He snapped, his voice sounding so much louder than it actually was, his hand twisting your jaw back to look up at him while his fingers proceeded to dig themselves into whatever spots got you hissing and squirming away. That's all it took for your resolve to break, the blaze in your eyes fizzling out and replace with genuine fear and utter shock as you watched him straddle you and stare with a piercing gaze that trapped you. It forced your attention to stay on him, daring you to look anywhere else but him when that was all you could focus on. Him.

You couldn't even scream, paralyzed when you heard the sound of metal clinking against metal and the brushing of fabric, raw horror setting itself alight in your bones at how he loomed over you. At that moment, you swore you could see the devil itself laughing, cackling, mocking you in his eyes.

It was like you were seven again.

Scared, cornered in your room because you swore, you swore and sobbed and cried that you saw it, a monster in your closet. A dark, shadowy figure that'd taunt you merely with its existence and prayed on your downfall, drinking the fat tears you spilled and listening to your high-pitched cries as if they were music, eyes that you couldn't see but they could see you.

Others tried to convince you that it wasn't real, opened the doors, and closed them again, showing that there was nothing but cleanly folded clothes and hung-up jackets lined neatly along a rack. Every time, you'd feel a little more silly about your fears but anxious that they'd come back for more.

At some point, you nearly forgot about the monster altogether. It ceased to exist in your closet, but never your mind.

"Damn it, what now?!"

Pulled back into the present, you heard muffled speech with loud, obtrusive noises and more screaming and cursing from the man above you. He was faced with the still-closed door, talking to a soldier behind it. Instead of trying to catch up with what happened, your mind raced to its defensive instincts. Finding the spoon dropped from earlier, you reached for it with a strained grunt which caught his attention. Yet with a swift grab and thrust of your hand, you jammed the blunt handle of the spoon into his throat and screamed at him, your vocal cords ripping in deliriously satisfying pain.

Barely giving him a second to let out a final gasp for air, you flipped him over underneath you and yanked the spoon out, blood erupting out of the gash. Fire ignited in your veins and you balled your fists, giving him a taste of the rage of a caged beast with nothing left to lose, just the desperation to survive for more. It was a symphony of grotesque crunches of bone and ligament, and you yelled, screamed, and cursed with each impact at him, at the entire organization, at a godless world for making you live through hell. A pitiful yet gruesomely satisfying attempt to reclaim what sanity and control you lost in that room.

Blood and flesh coated your fingers like warm syrup, and you were sure your knuckles were split. Crimson red was a good look on a sterile uniform, you thought to yourself. The sight of your work made you realize it wasn't the devil in his eyes was laughing at you, but rather its reflection from over your shoulder, still gleefully singing and squealing with delight as it watched you indulge in pure, unadulterated wrath. Its tail wrapped around your neck, strangling you with delirium and bloodthirst, guiding you in your ear as you beat an already dead man to a pulp.

Taking a stand, its whispers remained in your ear, praising you and yet you felt sick looking at what was left of what you had done, of what was left of the man's face. His blood pooled around his shoulders, mixing with the stew into an unholy concoction, evidence that was a testimony to your suffering and to your sin. Using his combat knife, you cut through the ropes around your wrists, skin scratched raw and bleeding. Without a second glance, you took his gun and left the room.

To this day, you tell yourself that you crawled out of hell that day.

"Any signs of the hostage?" Gaz shouted over comms, holding off a room of enemies alongside Price.

The moment they had all seen your fingers slip from the jeep and saw you tumble away that afternoon was the moment they knew they wouldn't be coming back to base for a long time. Roach had watched in despair as he was so damn close to grabbing your hand, swearing that had he'd been a little quicker, you wouldn't be here. Soap had yelled for Price to go back but Gaz and Ghost both knew his hand wasn't going to turn that wheel anytime soon. All of them knew. They couldn't turn back, and you wouldn't have wanted them to either, not unless the entire team and mission were to be jeopardized. However, that didn't stop them from doing whatever it takes to get you back safe again.

"Negative." Ghost answered over the line, standing with Soap in a hallway painted with the blood of the opposition, bodies scattered like lifeless bags of flesh with no greater purpose than to rot.

"I have eyes on them, they escaped from captivity. Currently pursuing them!" Roach responded. He'd seen your figure run down a hall at an alarming speed, and when he followed you, he had a glimpse of the room and the spectacle you left behind, "The leader is terminated, too. Jesus, can someone get over here?! They're gunning it for the west exit and I can barely keep up!"

You were in fact, bolting for the exits, panicking the more you got lost and running so fast that you probably could've broken a record on base. Distant gunfire and blasts snapped at your heels like a pack of dogs, reminding you that if you didn't keep running, you'd be dead, you'd be torn apart and beaten just like their leader and fed to the wolves. Boots trampled the ground behind you like drums of death, the yelling of men ringing in your ears, a requiem to the inevitable. Run, just run, it's all you could do in this frenzied state. If you didn't you'd be helpless, you'd be put down like a rabid fucking animal. Run, even if your bones shook from the pain, even if flames licked at your torn muscles, even if it meant dying of exhaustion because anything was better than dying at the hands of those animals.

At last, you found the light of an exit, finally an escape from this asylum. Your heart felt lighter when sunlight kissed your skin only to be weighed down by getting slammed into, grabbed into a relentless hold. You screeched, shrieked, snapped, and sneered while the voices seemed relieved, almost happy at your capture.

"Don't fucking touch me-!" You screamed with animosity, practically frothing at the mouth, "Don't fucking touch me I'll fucking kill you! I'll fucking—"

"Friendly, friendly!"

Still growling under your breath, confusion flickered over your eyes. Why did it sound like... like...

"Captain?"

"You're safe kid," Price panted, as if he'd been running to chase you. He was chasing you. In all your hysteria, you hadn't realized that the group had been running after you for past minute or so, trying to call for you, get you to slow down. The only thing that worked was to just grab to and hopefully knock some sense into you or knock you out. "It's just us, see?"

Your gaze softened, taking in the features of the man before you. Despite the crossfire and fighting, somehow he still had such a kind look on him, puppy eyes that pitied you and kept you grounded. Turning your head, you saw the rest of the men watching you in concern, all tired but overjoyed nonetheless that you were finally back.

You were safe.

It was like a weight finally lifted off your chest, a pile of restrained misery and relief washing over you, and you wept without a thought to pride. Price whispered your name in a way that felt so comfortingly familiar, tucking your head into his shoulder and letting you muffle your sobs into his uniform. It was painful to hear your wails, the relief and the instability shaking off of you in waves. A part of you expected to be scolded, to be teased for messing up so badly with a simple mistake as letting go of the jeep but they didn't.

"You're in good hands,"

"We've got them covered,"

"They can't hurt you anymore, love."

"Do you have any major injuries?" Gaz asked, but you couldn't say a thing, clinging onto Price's jacket and crying like you were four years old and found by your parents after getting lost. Slowly and gently, Price pulled you from him to examine you, and that's when he saw it. It didn't take long for the others to notice as well. Your clothes were torn and belt undone. While no physical harm was visible, knowing what happened was enough to make Price tick.

"Roach, get them to the car and give them some spares ASAP. Everyone else with me, we're cleaning out the place." Everyone else had the same dark look in their eyes, one that sent shivers down your spine but encouraged you once more you were secure now. While Roach escorted you away, you peeked back to see them disappear back into the building. After you changed in the car, you could hear the distant gunfire and screams, shutting your eyes closed tight, making an effort to drown out the thoughts.

"You okay?" Roach frowned. he had apologized to you a dozen times over on your way to the car and explained all that happened after you were taken, which you appreciated him for and insisted it wasn't his fault. But he was sweet and stubborn, bandaging your wounds and telling you he'd make it up by giving you his dessert for the next month, a gesture that made you smile for once in a while.

"Yeah, yeah just... hope they're safe." You breathed, sinking into your seat with the rest of your thoughts. Though you cried once more, quietly this time and on Roach's shoulder. He was cautious not to initiate too much physical contact, holding your hand only when you asked for it.

The building was silent, not a single soul left to be reaped by the 141. They all regrouped around a body that was beaten beyond belief, to the point where the face was unrecognizable. Regardless, they knew who it was.

Gaz broke the silence, "You think they did this?" They all looked at each other, not wanting to imagine what happened to lead to this point.

Ghost nodded, a confirmation of something they already knew but wanted to mutually agree on. "No one else could've made this much of a bloody mess. HQ's going to have a field day with this. Can't say that he didn't have it coming for him, though."

"And well deserved, too." Soap spat. Price continued to look down on the figure on the floor without any thought to it. Not anger, disappointment, or spite, just disregard. Headquarters would be interested to hear what happened, but he could care less about the report. All that mattered was that loose ends were tied.

Minutes later, the men all piled up in the car again, setting for the road back. You woke from your half-asleep state, rubbing your eyes. You were met with a soft smile from Soap, who ruffled your hair. "You alright there, sleepin' beauty?"

Humming in acknowledgment, you nodded and glanced out the window to see the road whizzing by, the building growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Some dingy warehouse. So that was the hellhole you were stuck in for a near week.

"Dinnae think 'bout it too much," He followed your gaze and nudged your boot with his, "When we said they can't hurt ye anymore, we meant it."

"Yeah," You quietly mumbled, leaning back on Roach, who had fallen asleep and leaned on Gaz for support. "Can smell it on you guys."

That got a rumbling laugh out of Soap and even a little headshake from Ghost who sat in the passenger seat. Looking at the rearview mirror, Price was looking right back at you, eyes flickering to the road occasionally, "Get some rest. It'll be a long ride home."

You nodded like a little kid with a mumbled "yessir" and drifted off once more. For the first time in forever, you feel like you can breathe and ground yourself, no punishment, no torture, nothing to haunt in this rare bit of calm. You didn't feel the pain of your sore muscles, you didn't feel that your body was filthy, you didn't feel small and scared, not anymore. Just surrounded by nothing but a familiar feeling of safety and lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine that took you home.

a/n pt.2: had a tough time writing this one but hey, I think I managed! to be honest, though, I'm not super confident about the ending and proofread this while half-asleep, but I'd love to hear some thoughts about it. shoutout to the people who noticed any reoccurring themes.

[a-hazbin-reader]

love the chaotic-ness of platonic alastor and reader of your posts!! the way you write him is more canon compliant but that makes it even more GREAT. can i req platonic alastor (+maybe rosie as a trio?) with overlord!reader. they just talk shit about the Vees and stuff lmao and do it openly on his radio show. hang out at rosie’s. maybe alastor gets reader to support the hotel too and everyone’s to alastor is like THEM?? You know THEM??? alastor’s like yeah lol we blow stuff up every tuesday and broadcast it where you at

OVERLORD PODCAST OVERLORD PODCAST OVERLORD PODCAST-

Alastor X Reader X Rosie Headcanons

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: Alastor and Rosie cannibalism

Description: 👆⬆️

The three of you are very busy demons who have demanding jobs so getting together doesn't happen as often as you'd like

But when you get together??? It's almost like you're all a bunch of gossiping old women instead of powerful deadly overlords

Rosie brings the snacks(bring your own if you don't want people meat), Alastor provides the venue, and you pick the topic of discussion

The first podcast was entirely an accident, Alastor forgetting he was on air when you and Rosie suddenly burst in

ALASTOR YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED

He gets so sucked into what you're saying that he forgets about his radio show and everything the three of you are saying is being broadcast live

But a lot of people are tuning into it??? Like everyone is so entertained by the three of you and your conversation

Once you three realize what happened then you all agree that this must become a weekly occurrence

Even the other overlords listen in on it every once in a while, finding it hilarious

Vox is absolutely livid because he's being IGNORED, why is nobody watching tv anymore???

He tries to get you and Rosie on his show instead but the two of you don't even take the offer seriously

The chemistry would be all off without Alastor's sparkling humor anyways

Which makes him throw a huge tantrum that becomes the next topic between the three of you

Y'all are just trashing this man at this point

It's his own fault for providing you three with so much ammo

But nobody is safe

It's just a fun little gossip podcast that somehow blows up and turns into this gigantic thing

But it gives you three an excuse to hang out

Whenever the conversation starts to drift towards the hotel you try to stay out of it for your own reasons

And it does always go back to the hotel, Alastor is running a business afterall

Alastor slowly starts to warm you up to the idea of his hotel, whatever your motivations are or if you believe in it

Rosie also encourages you to at least humor him and go see it

Easy for you say, he's not pressuring YOU

So you give in one day, accompanying Alastor to the hotel

Huh, Alastor wasn't joking when he said that Lucifer's daughter was his partner 🤔

You're not entirely surprised when you see the shocked looks everyone gives Alastor when they see you

WTF ALASTOR WHEN YOU SAID Y/N WAS COMING I DIDN'T THINK YOU MEANT Y/N THE OVERLORD

Who else would it have been, Vaggie???

Everyone nervously watches you and Alastor interact, it's two extremely powerful beings in one hotel

Except for Niffty, she greats you like an old friend, climbing all over you and making maniacal noises

Husk and Niffty are the only ones not surprised by your friendship, knowing that you and Alastor are good friends

They fill the others in on your relationship when they think you two aren't listening

It's almost funny hearing it come from someone else, you had nearly forgotten how you two met

"That's right..! I DID try to kill you! That's so funny!"

"Isn't it? And I do believe I nearly bit your hand clean off!"

You two are fucking deranged

You have a better understanding of why Alastor wants so much support for this hotel now

And you're a little surprised that Charlie seems to believe so genuinely in the idea of redeeming a soul

Regardless of if you're sold in the idea or not, you agree to support the hotel for Alastor

But now you're going to rope Rosie in with you too, if you're gonna go down then the three of you are going down together

But that's unlikely to happen, Alastor wouldn't lead you guys into a death trap

He's never steered you wrong before

This was so fun to write!!

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I’m BEGGING You 🙏🏼

Write de Delete Pressure ending

'I've got him now..I can put an end to this.'

That was all you could think about as you stared down at the monster, the fishman you once bartered with, seeing how utterly pathetic he looked.

Finally.

Finally.

You've caught him in his latest hideout, and this time there was no escape for him.

It's quite ironic considering you were the one who's been running away from monsters for so long, never having the means to fight back. All you could do was hide and pray that they wouldn't find you.

After having lost count how many times you've perished to the anglers, Pandemonium, and all the others...you figured Sebastian, your "only friend", would be your safe haven from those savage creatures.

But after someone in a previous team accidentally triggered their recently-purchased flash beacon in his shop....you realized he wasn't any different from them.

Not after he nearly choked them out, breaking the tool with a spiteful warning to never try that again--as though convinced they did it on purpose--before throwing them to the ground.

They died instantly, blood pooling all around their head, and the only thing Sebastian was concerned about was needing to move his shop to a new hideout.

Oh, and of course, the items they left behind after their corpse was retrieved.

Then the next time you met him, somebody else tried to do the same thing with intentions to annoy him....and he shot them point blank in the chest. No warnings. No mercy.

That's right.

He had a shotgun hidden beneath his coat. Something that Urbanshade wouldn't dare allow you to possess lest they detonated your gear for even looking at one.

But now that they've given you clearance to eliminate him by whatever means necessary--so long as it was only used to target him and not to escape or damage any property--you were currently holding that same weapon in your hands.

It had one shell left in the chamber, as Sebastian used up the rest during his pursuit of you.

He must have caught wind of the orders the overseers gave out, as he closed his shop and became completely fed up with your attempts to reach the crystal.

Now that Painter was no longer able to stall your progress after you destroyed him for good, he was next on the hit list.

Eyefestation was on it, too, but she would be...difficult to contain. She was the least of your worries.

He, on the other hand, could be easily cornered if you were persistent enough.

The bastard tried playing dirty, at first--sending anglers after you, getting Eyefestation outraged enough to fry your brains, and even distracting you so a Wall Dweller could feast on your body. All before you could even reach Door 50.

You were more than angry.

You were livid at these cheap tricks of his, constantly yelling his name and daring him to come face you himself....and indeed he did at some points, armed with nothing but his gun, claws, and teeth.

True to his document, he was surprisingly fast for his size, able to crush you in a vice grip with his tail, leave deep gashes in your flesh, shoot you point-blank, and even throw you into the dark pits of the ruined facility.

As expected, you came back again and again, finding new ways to outsmart him.

This time, you had the crystal in your possession and repaired the cables in the ocean floor, but your mission wasn't over yet.

Sebastian refused to let you leave, and HQ demanded one final task from you: kill him, lest he sabotaged the submarine that was your only ticket out of here. They refused to send it until the deed was done.

While it became difficult to leave even a scratch on him at first, you managed to wound him more and more every time with makeshift weapons like planks with nails or anything you had at your disposal.

Now it was all finally coming to a head, as you've got him cornered, seeing his clothes shredded and his flesh bloodied from all the fighting.

And while you weren't in any better shape yourself, with your uniform a bit tattered and the crystal's container bearing scratches from his claws..he was in a far worse state.

He wasn't even trying to fight you anymore.

He just curled up in the corner of the room, hand pressed to his chest--his white shirt bleeding red--and the bandage on his third arm having become undone, revealing a reopened wound.

"You've lost, Sebastian." You huffed. "This ends here."

"....gh...ngh...."

You removed your scuba mask so he could see the fury in your eyes, and how they also stung with betrayal. It consumed your heart, leaving an ache greater than the physical ones you felt in your legs.

Once, you liked him, his company, and his attempts to make jokes and light out of grim circumstances.

Once, you considered him a friend and a humble shopkeeper who was just trying to help those who used to be like him: prisoners wrongfully incarcerated such as yourself.

Once, you could never imagine Urbanshade giving you the orders to kill him AND be willing to follow through with them.

That's all changed, however.

"They were right..you're nothing but a goddamn animal." You spat, watching the way he shuddered and gnashed his teeth. "You're just like the rest of them. You're all killing machines."

"...no.." Sebastian managed to choke out, looking up at you through his matted black hair, wheezing. "D-Don't..say that..I'm nothing like them.."

"Maybe you aren't a complete savage, but at least they didn't steal from me. At least they didn't act like they were my friend."

"......"

"Even Painter was honest with me about his intentions. He knew you weren't gonna come back for him..so I did him a favor. And he thanked me, Sebastian. If only I could've put you out of your misery just as easily."

"Go..to...to hell.." He clutched his torso, his jacket slipping off his shoulders as he coughed. "Go to hell.."

"I'm afraid that's where we're both heading." Frowning, you could feel your finger sliding towards the shotgun's trigger. "It's waiting for all of us. No matter how innocent or guilty we are. But unfortunately for you...I'll be a little late to the party."

He said nothing to that, but when you were about to speak again, he mumbled something. You tilted your head, wondering why he was suddenly looking off into space. "What did you say?"

Blinking several times, you grew alarmed as he suddenly raised his hands up to his face. Then you heard the sniffles, and a drawled-out whine that sounded like something from a wounded animal, and it was all coming from the utterly broken and defeated sea creature before you.

"...m...mom..?"

"Huh?"

"Are you there? I...I-I don't wanna die.."

Was this another trick of his? To feign weakness so you could let your guard down?

That's what you wanted to believe, and yet...as he began to cry and curl in on himself, you started having doubts that he could be this manipulative when he was so, so weak and near death.

"M-Mom..everything hurts..I-I need you...please..please, please, please..help.." His voice broke, tears dripping onto the concrete floor as he tugged on his hair and lure. "Ayudame..ayudame.."

Now he's lost it.

His sobs were the only sounds that filled the room, aside from the humming lights and sounds of the sea's pressure constricting the hulls of the blacksite.

You hesitated, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt.

How could you have forgotten?

He's mentioned a family several lifetimes ago, back when you were a naive expendable eager to have somebody to chat with who recalled their humanity. At one point, after obtaining his document, he began opening up to you a bit more about his past. Before Urbanshade and their cruel experiments.

He had a mother and siblings...his father figure was likely absent, but you knew it was rude to question that. So you let him talk about them and what he remembered. He'd never know for sure if they moved on from his "execution", or even if they were still alive at all today...

Either way, the worst feeling for him was that they'd never know he was found innocent of those crimes that got him on death row. And even if he was somehow freed...what would they think of him?

Probably as a monster, no doubt.

Yet despite it all, he cried out for his mom anyways, wanting nothing more than to be in her arms again. He had given up on attacking you and spewing vile threats in your face.

What was the point? You would just come back over and over again, and he'd run out of ideas eventually.

He was just so tired of fighting.

He wanted it all to stop.

Watching how quickly he fell apart in front of you constrained your heart, and for a moment you wondered if there was another way out of this situation--a way that didn't require one having to kill the other...

Until your diving gear began to beep.

'Shit..' Suddenly you were snapped back to the cold hard reality, as your eyes shifted to the broken experimental scrambler on the ground. It was still sparking, showing signs of irreversible damage.

Now that it no longer blocked out any communications from Urbanshade, the cameras could see you and their target in the same room together, with you hesitating to complete the mission and take the shot.

And to them, hesitance showed disobedience...and they've told you that was cause for immediate execution.

You were still an expendable. Someone they can replace in a heartbeat.

The noises seemed to snap Sebastian out of his own trance, as he looked up at you with tears staining his scaled face, blood leaking from his mouth.

He could only stare at you with resignation.

"I'm so..tired.."

Regrettably, you nodded and raised the shotgun, forcing your hands to be steady. You couldn't afford to waste anymore time, not when the beeping had gradually slowed down, allowing you to focus.

Without needing to exchange further words, you two knew the true enemy here..the one who put you both into these horrible, horrible situations in the first place..

But unless you act now, they were just going to find someone else to finish the job.

No.

"I'm sorry, Sebastian. I'll make this quick."

It had to be you, as much as you wish it wasn't you.

If only you met him under better circumstances.

He just nodded and closed his eyes.

And you fired.

You looked away as soon as his body slumped to the floor, already growing nauseous over what you've done. The shotgun fell out of your hands, landing with a loud clatter, but it was finally over

He was gone. Silenced forever.

The beeping stopped completely, before you heard HQ come back online with one last message:

"Z-13 has been eliminated. Good work. Now leave the weapon on the floor and head through the marked doors that will lead you straight to the submarine dock."

Somehow, your weary legs managed to move towards the green-lit doors on their own, and during your long walk to the dock, the crystal's container thumped against your pant leg.

Even when you finally got to rest inside the submarine as it took you away from the blacksite, you felt as though....you didn't even deserve to rest after what you did. You felt like you've committed a crime worse than the one that put you here in the first place.

They made you take a life to earn your freedom.

But why did it have to be his life?

Was there truly no other way?

[flamingoofeathers]

VK GONE SOFT || J. HOOK

pairings: james hook x mermaid!reader

part 2 of 𝗔 𝗣𝗜𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗦𝗘𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗧

summary: Uliana finds out the big secret and goes crazy.

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

one shot; wc: 1.7 k

main masterlist j.hook masterlist

a/n: here’s part two of the james hook x mermaid!reader, that i didnt expect to get any attention at all, so i wanted to THANK EVERYONE who read it and left a like, i really appreciate it and it gives me motivation to write. I hope you enjoy this one too!

The morning after Castlecoming was spent in Hook's dorm after they had gone back there after the dance and cuddled all night long.

Hook woke up before Y/n, stared at her with so much longing and love, yet sadness for the girl. He was worried about what's about to come, he knew that the word of his infatuation towards a certain royal would reach the whole campus, then reach Uliana, but for now all he cared was the girl wrapped in his arms, dressed in his pj's, his love, his princess, his y/n.

A small groan was heard from the girl, slowly opening her eyes and smiled when she saw her boyfriend staring at her “good morning�� she rasped before snuggling back into his chest.

“morning, darling” Hook caressed her head before leaning down to kiss her forehead.

They stayed in silence, both dreading the moment they need to talk about what had happened between the two of them even if they didnt want to.

“So-“ Hook got caught off by the ear-deafening scream from outside the dorm.

“HOOK!!!”

Hook sat up immediately and grabbed the girl, pushing her towards the door “you need to go, y/n, now!”

Y/n stumbled, confused “what? Are you going to hide me again, James?” Y/n said getting madder, she thought that after what happened last night, they would be alright.

“I promise you, my love, i won’t, you know how Uliana is, i dont want you to get hurt” Hook pleaded to her as he opened the door and lead her out right as Uliana was rushing down the corridor with the rest of the Vk’s rushing from behind her.

“YOU!!” Uliana yelled pointing at Y/n.

“Go. Go! I love you” Hook kissed her cheek before urging her to run away.

“YOU! I SAID STOP” Uliana was about to run after her, but James blocked her way “you got a problem with her, you talk to me, yeah?” James said getting in Uliana’s face with a menacing glare.

Uliana was lost for words, cuz how dare he talk back to her.

“J-james, i’m sorry, we tried to stop her” Maleficent said out of breathe as she and the guys caught up to them.

“It’s fine, Mali, thank you though” James smiled at her “but we need to talk alone” he sighed as he entered his room, staring expectantly at Uliana to enter.

Uliana rolled her eyes before begrudgingly entering the dorm, slamming the door close.

“What were, no, what ARE you thinking, Hook!? Dating a royal!?” Uliana was livid, for a reason even he doesn’t know.

“Why? Why does it matter to you?” James sighed, already tired of this conversation.

“WHY!? SHE’S A ROYAL-“ Uliana got cut off.

“AND!? SO WHAT IF SHE’S ROYAL!? HMM!?” James yelled back

“YOU’RE A VILLAIN, HOOK, YOU’RE VICIOUS, YOU’RE CRUEL AND MEAN” Uliana reasoned.

“AND I AM! Just….just not with her” Hook’s voice got softer at the mention of the girl he fell in love with.

Uliana scoffed “You’re pathetic, Hook. Going all soft for that pitiful little mermaid”

“Dont. Don’t talked about her like that, when 𝘺𝘰𝘶-“ hook scoffed “you’re just 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘦 and 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 of Ursula, why? Because you’re weak and powerless compared to her. If anyone here is pathetic and pitiful, it’s 𝙮𝙤𝙪.” Hook provoked while Uliana just stared at her friend with a shocked look on her face.

“It’s her or us, Hook.” Uliana said in a tight voice.

“Get out.” Hook said opening the door.

“Her or us!” Uliana yelled.

“You know the answer to that. get out.” Hook rubbed his temple, he can feel a head ache coming.

“You really are useless” Uliana scoffed before stomping her way out the room.

After getting, basically, pushed out of her boyfriends, or at least she thinks her boyfriend, she doesnt know anymore, she walked back to her dorm.

She dropped to her bed, confused about everything that had happened, when a knock was heard. She stood up, opening the door only to be pushed back in by a pink and blue hair.

“Y/N! OH MY GOD!!” Bridget screeched as she grabbed the girls arms and shook it continuously.

“YOU AND JAMES! WHATTTT! THATS CRAZY” Bridget was overly excited while Ella on the other hand was just awkwardly smiling at her.

“YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE TOGETHER” Bridget was jumping up and down with Ella trying to stop her.

“I’m sorry about her” Ella apologised, as she got Bridget to calm down as much as she can.

Y/n startled by what had occurred waved it off “no no, uh, dont worry about it and i’m sorry, you know, for dating one of your bullies-“ Bridget cut her off.

“Oh no, they don’t bully us, they’re just messing around” Bridget brushed off like the nice person she is, meanwhile Ella just stared at her flabbergasted.

“What she means, is that, you don’t need to apologise, you can’t control what you feel, i should know, i never thought i’d like a royalty but here i am” Ella said blushing.

“Oh, right! Congratulations to you and Charming, you guys make such a perfect couple” Y/n said, remembering the cute couple.

“Thank you, but as i was saying, he might be mean to us, but as long as he’s good to you, then that’s all that matters” Ella said as Bridget rushed to hugged the both of them, startling the both of them.

“OHHHH! YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTEEEE!” Bridget squealed as she squeeze the two girl.

When they pulled away, y/n took her hand into hers “You’ll find that perfect someone for you too, Bridget” y/n said with pity, because she knows how much the girl wanted someone.

“Don’t worry about me, y/n!” Bridget said, still cheerfully and just then door creaked as a figure emerged, It was Hook, who stood awkwardly at the door, he wasn’t expecting to see Ella and Bridget.

“Umm, you know, we should go” Ella said noticing the sudden tension, pulling Bridget with her who said “oh my god, you’re so cute together” before the door closed behind Hook.

There was a beat of silence before Hook broke it.

“Well, Bridget seems nice” he said hesitantly.

“Are you serious?” Y/n said shocked.

“I always thought she was just annoyingly positive” Hooks said explained.

“Yeah well, you would know if you actually talked to her besides making fun of her and Ella, but what do you want, Hook.” Y/n said with a hard voice as she walked towards her bed.

Hook set down the girls dress she had left there last night before kneeling down in front of the seated girl.

“Please don’t call me that, anything but Hook” he pleaded but the girl just stared at him with the same annoyed expression.

“I talked to Uliana” he explained.

“And?” Y/n said.

“Well, i guess, we’re not friends anymore” he let out a small chuckle.

“What!?” The girl said shocked “why?”

“She made me choose between you and them, Y/n” Hook said confused at the girls reaction, he thought she’d be happy.

“And…you chose me?”

“I would 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 choose you, my love” Hook said before kissing the back of her hand and the girl lets him.

“But-“ the girl was confused, so so confused “just the other day, you were ignoring me, for gods know why”

“I was a coward, ok? The day i was supposed to meet you, Maleficent stopped me, apparently she already knew about us, along with Morgie and Hades, and they’re cool about it too” he smiled at the thought of his three friends “but Uliana didn’t know and she was starting to suspect something, apparently she’s been following me around for days before that, because i was acting weirdly and i was scared that if she found out, she would hurt you, so i distanced myself from you and it got her off my back, but 𝘨𝘰𝘥, was it torture to be apart from you, for so long, i missed you” Hook said cupping the girls face and brushing off the tears that started to fall from her eyes.

“You could’ve told me, James” she whispered, afraid that her voice might break “i could’ve handled her bullying”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t, y/n. I wouldn’t have been able to take seeing you get hurt” hook said desperately “but its okay now, because anyone who hurt you would come through me first, I don’t care anymore, y/n… i just want to love you publicly and now we can” Hook’s voice broke as tears of joy ran down his cheeks, y/n catching them before kissing him.

“Everything’s going to be okay now” Hook said to her lips.

Week’s has passed and the couple has never been happier, going out in public, sharing kisses in front of everyone, some might say that they’re worse than Jasmine and Aladdin but the two didn’t care.

There were a few of the rebels who tried to bully y/n when she was alone but Hook always arrived before anything happened. He soon found out from Morgie that Uliana was the one to send them to which Hook wasn’t even surprised. Although as time went on, the attacks soon lessened until they were left all alone.

What did surprise the couple was on one faithful day, Uliana approached them nervously with the rest if the VK’s behind her, trying to give her encouragement as she apologised for how she reacted and for the attacks she sent towards the girl.

Y/n forgave her as she noticed the honesty in the girls eyes but Hook was still skeptical of the witches behaviour.

Hook eventually forgave her and went back to being a VK.

Everything went back to normal but better. Y/n and Hook was finally together publicly and the bullying lessened, cuz they still needed to keep their reputation even if they only played harmless pranks towards Ella and Bridget.

Uliana was still weirded out to see the two but she can live with it.

They were living their best lives. Soon they finished school and went to college, relationship still going strong. It was a dream come true.

Their 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧.

[sturniolospumpkin]

matt’s — m.s. & c.s.

part three (part one // part two // part four)

pairings: rough!dom!matt x sub!reader x chris

summary: your boyfriend matt finds out that you and his brother chris hooked up behind his back.

warnings: this part is really intense & could be triggering, please read the warnings & PLEASE read at your discretion! MDNI. contains smut, unprotected sex (p in v), rough sex, mentions of pain, mentions of safeword, spanking, slapping, choking, degrading, name-calling (bitch, slut, whore), crying, angst, mean matt, some fluff

disclaimers: this is all fiction. obviously the triplets are not like this in real life, these are just fics i write out of boredom. please do not republish my work as your own, and please credit me if using my writing as inspo <3

days had passed since you last spoke to chris. you tried your best to not think about what had happened. you did everything in your power to act normal around matt, but you’re certain he had picked up on something being wrong. you were thankful that he hadn’t questioned you though, knowing you’d have to tell him the truth. you didn’t intentionally do something behind his back, but you knew that wouldn’t matter; he would be livid as soon as he found out, and that terrified you. you’d hoped chris would change his mind about telling matt. you’d done a decent job at avoiding him, until tonight when matt asked him to watch a movie with the two of you while nick was out.

chris, who had also been avoiding you and his brother for the past few days, sat silently on the opposite side of the couch. as time passed you grew more and more unnerved, and you were fairly certain he was staring at you. you finally shift your eyes over to where he’s seated, and your suspicions are confirmed, his gaze is fixed on you. it’s the first time you’ve looked him in the eye since that day, and your heart drops—he looks awful. the dark circles under his eyes are prominent and his skin is pale; you can tell he hasn’t been sleeping. he only stares, but the look in his eyes tells you everything—he can’t keep this from matt for much longer. you quickly shift your attention back to the movie, paranoia flooding your system. you’re breathing faster now, heavier. your heart is racing, and then you hear his voice.

“matt i need to tell you something.” chris shakily announces, your eyes darting to him immediately.

matt’s eyes remain on the tv in front of him as he responds to his brother, “yeah chris?”

you shake your head repeatedly, eyes locked on chris’s, but he only nods to you in response.

“y/n and i—” he lets out a shaky breath as he struggles to finish his sentence.

matt notices the pause in chris’s words, his gaze briefly moving to chris before returning to the tv. matt’s tone is almost humorous as he obliviously responds to chris, “you and y/n what?”

“chris” you plead, voice pulling matt’s full attention from the screen, now fully focused on the conversation.

his eyes move between the two of you, concern painting his face when he notices the look on yours.

“what’s wr—” matt starts before chris interrupts.

“y/n and i had sex.” chris confesses.

your stomach drops, nausea overtaking your body as time stills. you watch matt’s face twist into a confused smile before he responds to his brother.

“yeah i know chris, i watched.” matt chuckles, not understanding what chris means.

“no, i mean we had sex. just the two of us.” chris quietly explains, releasing a shaky sigh before continuing, “but it was my fault okay, i— i got carried away and she didn’t know—it’s not her fault—she thought you were okay with it because i kind of implied that you were…”

“what?” matt’s asks in disbelief, turning to you with an expression you can’t quite read, “is he fucking serious?”

your eyes drop to your lap as you nod your head, unable to speak. silence fills the room for what feels like hours until you finally find the strength to speak.

“matty i—” you begin before he cuts you off.

“get upstairs.” he snaps.

“what? but—” you start before he speaks over you again.

“get upstairs. go to my room. both of you.” his jaw clenched as his chest heaves.

scared to make the situation worse, you obey, getting up from the couch and making your way to matt’s room. chris follows behind, both of you standing in the center of the room as matt enters.

“take off your clothes. go sit on the bed.” matt nods to you.

“matt we should—” you begin, knowing you need to talk about the situation.

“i’m not asking. take off your fucking clothes & get on the bed y/n.” his gaze is piercing, jaw clenched tightly.

you nod, ridding yourself of your clothes before making your way to the bed. matt walks over to you, taking his shirt off before unbuckling his belt. he turns his attention to chris who is still standing awkwardly in the center of the room.

“chris go sit in the chair. don’t touch yourself.” he barks before turning his attention back to you.

chris hesitates, slowly making his way to the chair next to matt’s bed.

“all fours. face chris.” matt orders.

you quickly comply, not wanting to anger him any further. you position yourself on all fours on the bed, directly in front of chris. your eyes meet each other’s, filled with the same fearful look as you try to gauge matt’s next move. chris bites his lip nervously as he flicks his gaze to his brother.

matt enters you without warning, burying his dick to the hilt. you wince at the painful stretch of his sudden intrusion. he gives you no time to adjust before thrusting in and out of you, setting a brutal pace.

“matt—” you yelp, immediately cut off.

“shut up.” he grits, continuing his thrusts. your eyes are squeezed shut, body adjusting to the pain that soon turns into pleasure. chris’s eyes are trained on you, but you stare at the floor, avoiding his gaze.

“does chris make you feel this good?” matt asks, reinforcing his question with a particularly hard thrust.

you moan, hoping it will suffice as an answer. until you feel a sharp smack on your ass and know he isn’t accepting it, “answer me.”

“no.” your respond quietly, head dropping even more to avoid chris’s eyes.

“nuh uh” matt roughly grips you by your hair, pulling your head up. your eyes shut as you wince at his grip.

opening your eyes, you find yourself face to face with chris. his eyes are heavy, a mix of defeat and frustration painting his face as he stares back at you.

“speak up slut, we couldn’t hear you.” matt spits, “i said does chris make you feel this good?”

“no.” you answer louder this time, not wanting to be reprimanded again.

“no? i didn’t think so.” matt chuckles, “who makes you feel this good huh? who fucks you the best? go ahead and tell chris for me.”

“you matt.” you comply.

the look on chris’s face breaks your heart, you silently plead for him to look away so you don’t have to see the pain you’re causing him, but his broken eyes never leave yours.

“yeah, you want me to keep making you feel good?” matt taunts, his arm wrapping around your waist to play with your clit.

you let out an involuntary moan at the added stimulation, eyes squeezing shut as you nod your head hesitantly in response to his question. you know he’s going to torture you tonight for what you did. you also know you could use your safeword and he would stop, but you want to prove to him that you’re sorry. you want to regain his trust.

“beg for it then. look at chris and beg for me to keep fucking you.” matt spits.

chris’s eyes flash to his brother above you, jaw clenched in annoyance at his brother’s tormenting. you hesistate for a moment, not wanting to upset chris any further, but matt pulls you from your thoughts with a spank. a yelp leaves your lips.

“do it.” he demands.

chris’s gaze drops from his brother back to you. mouth shut, his tongue moves across his teeth to rest inside his cheek, a clear sign of his annoyance. knowing matt is expecting a response, you mouth a “sorry” to chris before speaking aloud.

“please matt” you beg, eyes locked on chris as tears of pleasure and sadness pool along your waterline.

“please what?” matt asks continuing the assault on your clit.

“please don’t stop.” you moan.

chris’s eyes refuse to leave yours. your heart stings with a feeling of embarrassment, sadness, guilt—maybe all three. you aren’t entirely sure, but whatever it is causes tears to spill down your cheeks.

“you can do better than that. bet you begged for chris much better than that huh?.” matt grumbles.

you shake your head as best you can under his grip, continuing to beg, “don’t stop please matty, please please please i need you.”

matt drops his hand from your clit, and you whine at the loss of contact. he scoffs at you before resuming his brutal pace, dick repeatedly ramming into your cervix. it’s the hardest he’s ever fucked you.

“you are mine. do you fucking understand that?” matt asks through gritted teeth as he slams into you again.

“yes.” you cry.

“i don’t think you do. because if you did, you wouldn’t have fucked my brother.” he retorts.

his hips still for a moment, hand releasing your hair when you hear him grab something off his nightstand. your eyes are trained on chris. his jaw is tight and cheeks are rosy as his chest heaves. he shifts in his seat and your eyes land on the growing tent in his pants. when did that happen? you think to yourself before you feel the cool tip of a marker drag across the skin of your left ass cheek—matt is writing on you. you can’t make out what he’s spelling, but you feel the marker move to the right side of your ass as he continues to drag it along your skin.

“there we go.” he mutters to himself.

he places the marker between his teeth as you turn your head in an attempt to see what he wrote, only to be met with a harsh slap. face burning, you turn back to chris when you suddenly feel both of matt’s palms collide against the fresh writing on either side of your ass. you hiss at the sting before he grips your waist tightly and flips you onto your back. grabbing the marker from it’s resting spot between his teeth, he begins writing on your pubic bone. you prop yourself up a bit on your elbows, watching as he drags the black marker across your skin. when he pulls his hand back, you finally get a glimpse of it, written sloppily in all caps: “MATT’S”. you let out a gasp, causing his gaze to shift from the writing to your eyes before he wraps his free hand around your throat and pins you back to the bed. with his free hand, he brings the marker up to your chest, repeating the same letters before capping the marker and tossing it across the room. he slams his dick back into you, resuming his relentless pace. the roughness of his thrusts is overwhelming and cries leave your throat as you try to not to think about it. a hard slap lands on your face, pulling you back to reality.

“do you understand now?” he snaps.

you quickly nod your head in response. he lifts his hand and you feel another slap hit your cheek, the familiar sting flooding your face once more, “no, speak. tell me you understand that you belong to me.”

“yes matty i understand— i’m yours, only yours.” you cry, still struggling to endure the bruising pace of his thrusts.

he pulls out unexpectedly, flipping you over on all fours before entering you again. he grips you by your hair again, pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest.

“mine. all mine. no one else’s.” he speaks into your ear, “i fucking own you, not chris. you understand that or you need me to write it on your fucking forehead too?”

“i understand matty, im so sorry.” tears spill from your eyes again as the pain of his actions and words become too much.

“oh are you? you’re sorry for fucking him or sorry that you got caught?” he patronizes.

“sorry for fucking him matty, so sorry.” your croak.

“stop fucking calling me that.” he growls, reaching his other hand around to grab your throat.

your heart breaks at his response. you’ve always called him matty, and he absolutely adores the nickname. your face twists in pain, a yelp leaving you as he squeezes the hand around your throat tightly, continuing his rough pace.

“so fucking stupid, so fucking ungrateful, so fucking impatient. i already told you i’d let you fuck him again, you couldn’t just fucking wait? you had to go do it behind my back? you’re that much of a desperate whore? couldn’t go ten fucking days without my brother’s dick in you?” his words are filled with anger, grip on your throat even tighter as you wince at his words.

“c’mon matt chill, you’re hurting her.” chris’s voice is low as he speaks for the first time since his confession to matt.

“shut the fuck up chris. wasn’t talking to you.” matt scoffs, “besides, she likes it. likes being roughed up and treated like shit. didn’t she tell you that when you were balls deep in her?”

chris rolls his eyes, clenching his jaw at his brother’s comments. while matt was right that you enjoyed a bit of roughness during sex, this was nearing your limits. cries continue to escape you as tears stream down your face. but you don’t want to disappoint matt, you just want to fix things, you know you can take it. chris looks at you once more, his expression filled with concern before he speaks again.

“matt.” he warns.

“oh for fuck’s sake, she’s fine! she has a safeword and she can use it. but you’re not gonna, huh? because you’re a sick bitch.” matt seethes.

his words make you sob. it’s not his usual sex talk, he’s serious now, he means every word.

“a sick bitch who fucked my brother behind my back. bet you’d let him fuck you again too, just like this with my name written all over you. dirty fucking slut.” matt growls as his thrusts falter.

“matt no!” you cry shaking your head, desperately trying to convince him.

“shut up, don’t wanna hear your stupid fucking voice when i cum.” he orders.

your mouth falls open in a sob, head dropping at his words as your tears fall onto the mattress. he’s never spoken to you like this before, never treated you like this before— like he hates you. a feeling of nausea washes over your body. your heart feels shattered.

matt’s hips stutter as he finally releases inside you. he stills for only a moment before pulling out of you and backing up from the bed without a word. he locates his discarded clothes on the floor and begins dressing himself, back turned to his brother and yourself. you’re snifling quitely, eyes briefly meeting chris’s as matt finishes dressing himself and immediately heads for the door.

“clean her up chris.” matt mumbles, walking out of the room without so much as a glance at either of you.

chris jumps up from the seat, rushing over to you. he kneels in front of you and you see his mouth move but you don’t register anything he says. your brows furrow in disbelief as you hear matt’s footsteps move through the hallway. the sound of the front door closing and matt’s car starting are enough to your stomach drop, eyes widening at the reality of your situation. your body curls into a ball as you sob. he just left you, like you’re nothing. you know it’s over.

“hey, hey, you’re okay, it’s okay.” chris whispers finally register as he rubs your back through your sobs. “i’m gonna go run you a bath, okay? i’ll be right back, i promise.”

you don’t respond, simply continuing to cry in a fetal position as you think about how you just ruined the best thing that has ever happened to you. chris returns moments later and carefully picks you up before leading you to the bathroom. he places you in the warm bath that smells of your lavender soap— a scent that usually calms you, but nothing can calm you right now. your red teary eyes meet chris’s, who looks to be on the verge of tears himself as he lets out a shaky sigh. you know he feels guilty for all of this. he glances down at your chest before wetting a rag with soap and water, gently scrubbing the writing off.

“it’s okay,” he soothes, running his unoccupied hand through your hair softly, “it’s all gonna be okay.”

your sobs only worsen at his words as you shake your head. you don’t believe him.

“no—he’s gonna—leave me. he—he hates me.” you choke out through shaky breaths and tears.

chris stops washing you and reaches to cup your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs only for more to fall.

“hey, relax. he’s not gonna leave you sweetheart. take a deep breath for me.” he demonstrates an exaggerated deep breath for you to follow.

you copy his actions, letting out a shaky breath before speaking again, “you don’t know that.”

“yes i do.” he responds softly.

“how?” you ask through sniffles as you try to quiet your sobs.

chris sighs before he continues scrubbing the writing off your chest, “because i know my brother,” he begins, “and i know you’re the best thing that has ever happened to him. you’re the most important person in the world to him, probably even more than me and nick.”

chris pauses before speaking again.

“i know he would do anything to keep you.” his voice is lower this time, more strained, “he’s never gonna leave you.”

his tone is laced with something you can’t quite pinpoint— hurt? jealousy? anger? you watch a tear roll down his cheek before he quickly wipes it. he switches his gaze from the bath to your eyes, offering you a small smile.

“could you stand up for me sweetheart?” his normal soft voice returning.

you slowly stand up in the bathtub as chris begins to scrub the writing off your pubic bone, soon turning you around gently so he can wash the writing off your ass. the writing doesn’t come off easily, causing chris to scrub your skin until it’s nearly raw. every wipe of the washcloth is a painful reminder of matt’s hatred toward you. you find yourself crying again, quietly this time. chris sits you back down and finishes cleaning the rest of your body. he notices your tears but opts to not say anything this time, letting you cry it out while he rubs your hair with his free hand.

“all done sweetheart.” chris whispers after a few minutes before getting up to grab you a towel.

you step out of the tub onto the bath mat, allowing chris dry you off. his touch is soft as he gently pats you dry before wrapping the towel around you. he begins to walk you out of the bathroom before he abruptly stops as if forgetting something. he turns his head to meet your eyes.

“where do you wanna lay down?” his voice is soft.

“matt’s room.” you whisper, wanting to be there as soon as matt returns.

chris nods leading you to matt’s room. he digs through matt’s dresser to find you a t-shirt and boxers before walking back over to you. he dresses you carefully and pulls back the covers for you to lay down. he tucks you in gently and his hand reaches to push a stray hair behind your ear. he gives you a soft smile before turning to walk out of the room. you grab his wrist before he can fully turn.

“please don’t leave too.” you plead softly.

chris’s eyes linger on yours, contemplating your plea. he doesn’t want to make things worse between you and matt, but he can’t leave you like this. he nods, crawling into bed next to you. you curl into his chest, wrapping your arms around his body before breaking down in tears again. he rests his chin on your head and rubs your back softly.

“shh please don’t cry sweetheart. i promise you everything’s gonna be okay. just close your eyes and get some rest.” chris whispers.

“please dont leave.” you beg.

“i’m not going anywhere.” his soft fingertips move in circles along your back.

“promise you’ll stay here while i sleep?” you ask, terrified at the thought of losing them both.

“i promise. close your eyes y/n.” he plants a small kiss on your forehead before you shut your eyes and focus on the comfort of his fingers rubbing your back.

“i’m so sorry sweetheart.” he whispers as you fall asleep.

the sound of hushed voices in the hallway pulls you from your sleep. you turn to find the bed empty beside you, heart dropping at the realization that chris left. still groggy, you struggle to make out what the voices are saying, so you sit yourself up in an attempt to get a better listen. the door to matt’s bedroom is slightly ajar, but you don’t see anyone in the hall.

“all i’m saying is you need to talk to her, she thinks you’re gonna leave her.” you recognize chris’s voice.

“i’m not gonna leave her.” matt’s voice echoes.

it’s the first time you’ve heard him speak since earlier— it’s the first time he sounds like himself. your heart races when you process his words. i’m not going to leave her. chris was right. you angle your head in an attempt to see them through the cracked door, but you only find chris. he’s in the same black t-shirt and grey sweatpants he wore earlier, and his hair is slightly disheveled, presumably from running his hands through it like he always does when he’s stressed out. his eyes are heavy and his cheeks are flushed with a look of exasperation.

“i know and i told her that, but she’s a wreck dude.” chris tries to keep a whisper but his volume only increases, “it’s not her fault okay? she wouldn’t intentionally hurt you and you know that. if you want to be mad at me, that’s completely fine, i deserve it and i can take it. but she didn’t know matt, boundaries were never established and that’s on all of us, it’s a— unique situation. don’t torture her please. it’ll never happen again.”

you start to worry when you don’t hear matt respond. you move your head again, trying to get a glimpse of him through the door to no avail. suddenly the door creaks open. you look up to see matt entering his room and chris looking in from hallway. chris sends you a brief but reassuring smile before matt closes the door behind him. his eyes land on yours—his expression is so much softer than earlier. you let out an exhale you didn’t even know you were holding.

“hi” he speaks softly, his voice hoarse, as he walks over to where you lay.

“hi” you respond at a volume barely audible.

the bed dips as he sits down in front of you, one hand landing on your leg as the other reaches to touch your cheek.

“we need to talk.” he sighs.

“i’m sorry matty i— i shouldn’t have— i’ll never—” tears immediately begin to stream down your face as you struggle to complete a sentence.

“shh, let me talk.” matt speaks over you, his voice still soft and quiet as his thumb rubs your cheek.

he takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“i’m sorry for earlier. i was a dick to you, i was too rough, and it’s not okay. you didn’t deserve that, no matter what happened.” he begins before you shake your head.

“no matty i deserved it. i— i cheated on you and i’m so sorry.” voice squeaking as you bawl, closing your eyes.

“shh, you didn’t cheat on me. i never set boundaries, i never said i had to be present for you to fuck chris. it was a grey area and it’s my fault.” matt coos, wiping your tears, as you shake your head.

“no it’s all my fault. it won’t ever happen again matty, im so fucking sorry.” you cry.

“baby i don’t mind if you fuck him.” matt speaks.

you shoot him a puzzled look, confused by his words, “you don’t?”

he shakes his head, “no, i— i just want you to be happy. if chris also makes you happy, then that’s alright with me. it doesn’t really bother me, i think i just reacted that way earlier because—” he stops himself, dropping his hand from your face and his eyes from yours.

“what?” you sniffle.

“i guess i was— i am, just worried you’ll like him better. worried i won’t be good enough for you anymore and you’ll leave me for him. i don’t wanna lose you. i don’t care if you’re with us both, we have a lot of love to give you, i just can’t lose you. ” he confesses, eyes trained on his hand in his lap.

“matty i’d never leave you, i’m never going anywhere. i love you more than anything or anyone.” you reassure him, placing your hand over his.

“but you have feelings for chris too right?” he lifts his eyes to meet yours again, “it’s okay if you do, i’m not angry with you, i just need to know.”

you nod, heat rising to your cheeks at your admission, dropping your head to avoid matt’s eyes. he chuckles softly, hand lifting your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“hey, it’s okay, i promise you i’m not angry. we’ll talk to chris later okay?” matt asks.

you nod in response, earning a smile from him. he climbs over you and leans back against the headboard, extending his arms out for you.

“c’mere, just wanna hold you and take care of you right now.” matt pleads.

you smile, climbing into his lap and resting your head in the crook of his neck. he places soft kisses along your cheek as he rubs your lower back. his other hand moves to your hair, gently rubbing the sore skin from his tight pulling earlier.

“i’m so sorry that i hurt you baby.” he whispers, “i didn’t mean anything that i said, i was just upset and scared at the thought of losing you, but that’s not an excuse.”

“it’s okay matty.” you respond, placing a kiss on his neck.

“it’s not, i was so awful to you. i’m so sorry, that will never happen again.” matt’s voice strains as you feel a tear hit your skin— he’s crying.

“i’m okay baby, really.” you pull your face back from his neck to wipe his few tears.

he glances down at you with a look of adoration, offering you a soft smile.

“i love you baby.” he pulls you back against his chest.

“i love you too matty.” you whisper before fading into sleep.

a/n: okay so i originally planned on ending this series here but lmk what you guys think 👀

✧ tags✧ @m1zzi3 @pepsiisgoatedasf @courta13

[honeyhoshi]

hat trick!

the term 'hat-trick' is used to define when a player achieves the feat of scoring three goals in a single game.

summary: the first half of the championships is going to their opponents and everyone is looking to mingyu to lead the team to victory. as their star player, it’s a tall order, especially when his plate is already full with you.

this a part of the man of the match universe

genre: professional football (soccer) au, porn with a little plot

wordcount: 5,616

pairing: mingyu x afab!reader

warnings: HEAVY DDlg kink, HEAVY d/s themes, both parties are safe, sane, and consenting adults, reader is implied to be significantly smaller than mingyu, huge mingyu, big dick gyu (canon), (acknowledged???) exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls dont do it, its not worth it), multiple sex scenes, spit kink (bec i wrote it), creampie (also bec i wrote it), mentions of masturbation, size kink go bbrrrr, bulge kink, pussy stretching, plenty dirty talk, mingyu uses soooo many nicknames (pretty, baby, princess, etc.)

author's notes: this is written for my dearest friend @madeforgyu who helped me bring forward!mingyu to life and for making his gf such a joy to write. thank you also to her for inspiring me to come back to tumblr after almost a decade.

Mingyu is pissed. He’s absolutely fucking livid.

This game had to have been fucking cooked. There was no way the ref was making all these shitty calls for him not to be paid off or something. The team had been making all the right moves but the second something seems like a foul, a whistle blows and somehow it's always someone from the Diamonds getting the blame.

Mingyu had come to four attempted goals on target and any other time was deemed offside by the refs. If he sees that fucking checkered flag go up one more time before they call for half time he’s going to really give them a reason for a red card.

Any other day he’d probably be able to brush it off after the half time break. But this isn’t any other day or any other match. It was the last match of the season — it was the Korean FA Cup final.

The 23-24 season was grueling but rewarding for the Diamonds. After the major upset at finishing as runners up in the season prior, the whole squad had come into this season with fire under their asses. The change in coaches was another thing — while their ex-manager, Mr. Cho was a hardass, their tearful promise to give him a win even after his retirement paired with Seungcheol’s no-bullshit coach style took them from 100% to 250% in the space of the off season.

Mingyu’s never been a better football player. Which is why he’s unhappy when the half time whistle does blow and they’re down 0-2.

Both teams shuffle into the tunnel to head to their locker rooms where their managers and coaching staff were waiting. Then Mingyu sees a flurry of pink shuffling through the mess of white and red kits.

“Excuse me, excuse mee, coming through please,” comes a light voice, parting the crowd.

There are a couple of chuckles and greetings coming from his teammates and even a high five and a “hey tiny!” from Hoshi before it finds its way in front of him.

It’s his girlfriend. It’s you.

Your presence at the game is no anomaly. You’re pretty much a permanent fixture, sort of like the 12th man of the team. Except you can’t play football for shit and you’re always somehow wearing the worst shoes for going on the pitch.

Everyone on the Diamonds’ side knows you — from the press, to the coaching staff, even some of the nutritionists. You’ve been with Mingyu forever. You hardly phase anyone around you when you bat your eyes at Mingyu and grab one of his hands in both of yours.

Mingyu tries to harden his glare at you, doing his best to send a look of displeasure at whatever it is you’re trying to pull.

“I’m soooorry,” you start, playfully rocking on the balls of your feet and trying to tiptoe to get closer to him.

Mingyu almost wants to roll his eyes.

The last of the team coaches enter the locker room but before the door closes, Seungcheol peeks out and meets Mingyu’s eyes. Hoshi’s head pops out next to him shortly after.

“I don’t have to tell you anything, I’m sure," Seungcheol starts, “But you’ve got 10 minutes, Gyu.”

“Tiny, I need my forward in tip top shape, alright?” comes Hoshi’s laugh.

Now Mingyu really rolls his eyes.

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles out, “Aye aye captain!”

You don’t have to be told twice when Mingyu drags you into an extra locker room and says “Skirt up, pretty.”

He makes quick work of slamming the door shut, not even bothering to lock the door. But he does flick the lights open. He wants to see. He has to see all of you.

When he turns around he clicks his tongue at you seated on one of the benches. You’re still rolling your underwear down your legs. They’re a completely useless pair. Though he admits most of your underwear is useless, either too frilly, flimsy, just there for decoration. It’s okay. He likes pretty things. No wonder he likes you so much.

“Uh-uh, doubletime princess. No time for the usual. I need to come before stepping back on that fucking pitch.”

Mingyu’s agitation from his sub par showing during the first half is bubbling under his skin. He’s been stiffening under his shorts since he saw you shuffling through the tunnel and the minute you grabbed his hands, the only thing in his head was how badly he needed to stuff you with his cock.

He grimaces at the pout on your lips as you finally untangle that stupid lacey thing from your frilly socks and platform sneakers. Mingyu grabs your wrist and drags you up against the wall that isn’t lined with lockers. He presses your front against the wall and uses his knee to spread your legs apart.

On instinct you stick out your ass, eager already despite him still being fully dressed, wiggling slightly to show him you want this too.

With quick, practiced fingers Mingyu undoes the knot of his bottoms and pushes down his compression shorts low enough to pull his cock out. He breathes a sigh of relief because finally he can flip up your skirt and see just how needy you are.

He has one large hand wrapped around his equally large cock and inspecting the view in front of him. His other hand settles on the roundness of your ass, grasping slightly to spread you open. He eyes your pink puckered hole and allows his gaze to move down to your pussy. He’s pumping himself roughly to get himself to full hardness as he eyes the slick that’s seeping between your lips. You’re almost jealous. That’s your job.

Once he’s satisfied with himself, he lets his cock rest between your cheeks, and he grasps you on both sides to squeeze. You want to cry, almost scared he’ll get off like this, just fucking the tightness of your pressed asscheeks. It’s almost quiet save for his panting and the way your slick cunt is starting to wet his cock.

So you whine loudly, that unimpressed, unsatisfied one that precedes a—

“Daddyyyyyyyy!”

Fuck there it is.

Mingyu grimaces and clicks his tongue again. No use being quiet now. Or ever, really. Everyone knows anyway.

He turns you around quickly, hoisting you up in his arms and moving to wrap your legs around his slender waist. This position has your pussy pressing up against the underside of his cock and the slight relief it gives you makes you nearly sob.

Instead you whine. You whine and start to grind sloppily as the feeling of delirium starts to course through you. It comes naturally when it comes to Mingyu. You’re addicted and so is he.

Even if your bare cunt is already pressed against him and all Mingyu has to do is angle your hips slightly to slip in, he goes the extra mile.

He supports your smaller frame with one hand and uses the other to lift a corner of his jersey to his teeth so he can bite it. He pulls it up high enough to expose his stomach and your mouth waters at the sight.

Mingyu looks good. He always looks good and he knows you like it when he’s on display for you as well. The dips and groves of his stomach, how it's still damp from the sweat from the first half, has you clenching around nothing.

He feels it against his cock and he quickly decides to quit playing around. You two probably have around 6 minutes and not a second to lose. So he flips the front of your skirt up and groans at the sight of you.

You’re soaked and coating his cock as you try to grind against him, a futile attempt to somewhat relieve yourself. 

So Mingyu pulls away slightly to position the head of his cock at your entrance.

“D’you play with yourself at all, sweetheart?” He says, tapping the large head of his cock against your clit.

“Huh?” comes your confused response.

“I asked my dumb baby if she played with this little pussy?” He answers meanly.

You flush. It’s like a routine for you to stay with Mingyu the night before a game, allowing him to let off steam and go into a game day glowing and stress free while you sit on his lap in the team bus full of his cum from your morning fuck.

But the night before the cup finals had you attending a work event at the last minute because of a scheduling issue that had both you and Mingyu pissed off and horny.

You suppose that’s partly to blame for the first half that had even you swearing at the refs from your seat in his private box.

“Just a little—“

He clicks his tongue, “How many fingers d’you use?”

“Just two daddy, a-and I stopped!” you cry almost petulantly.

“Yeah, baby? Why’d you stop?”

“Because it was no good!” You bounce in his hold slightly, biting your lower lip as he continues to tease your entrance and clit. Just the head of his cock was enough to get you this wound up.

He grins. It’s brilliant and handsome and just so fucking mean because he says, “Thats right. Two of my dumb baby’s fingers are nothing on daddy’s cock,” and pushes into you.

Mingyu has always been so big and thick and you have always always been so much smaller than him, his cock always stretching a little painfully when he first slips in. But today, with such little time and even spending the night away from each other, the stretch punches the breath from your lungs.

You squeal in equal parts delight and distress and Mingyu sets a brutal pace, not even letting you settle into the feeling of him inside of you.

But you understand. You’re his good girl so you look at him with big teary eyes, bottom lip in between your teeth and nod dumbly at him. Words fail you whenever he’s inside you but it’s okay. It’s better than okay. 

You two have long established how nothing nothing in this world makes you happier than when he uses you as he wants, when slips into you whenever he wants, and calls you his princess while destroying your insides.

His eyes are transfixed on where the two of you meet and you can’t help but follow his gaze. It’s absolutely lewd how you wrap around his cock, airtight, and how the sloppy noise echoes in the room.

“Look at my little pussy,” he starts, “my perfect little hole. My baby’s little cunt was made for me.”

Your cries are growing needier, louder, and more depraved. At the back of your mind you remember to worry about how tonight's the championship match and that the halls are surely bustling with press, staff, and even the opposing team. But Mingyu is fucking you so deep, so fast, that he’s literally fucking the thoughts out of your head.

You fight to stay with him in this room, in this moment, but before your eyes completely shut close, you feel his hand wrap around your throat.

“Daddy’s running out of time, baby,” he says, “so be a good girl and stay still for daddy, huh?”

You whine and nod as his hips move faster and he cages you up against the wall, your arms coming up to wrap around his head. 

“Words, princess. I need words.”

You want to swear at him and thrash in his arms but you’re feeling too good, too lost in the pain and pleasure. You bite at the collar of his jersey because it's the only thing you can do to quiet the pathetic whimpers, babbling, and indecipherable cries Mingyu’s pulling from you. 

Mingyu presses a kiss to your temple quickly, “My dumb baby,” he coos, “look so pretty when you’re crying on my cock. That’s my pretty baby, daddy’s almost there. Keep being good for me, m’kay?”

He speeds up his fucking, hips pistoning, and the press of his cock pressing against that spot in you that makes you see stars.

Mingyu pulls you into a kiss that’s all spit and teeth and bruising lips. He sucks on your tongue before separating the two of you and looking back down at his cock bullying its way into your pussy. 

It happens before your mind can process it but at the speed of light you feel a wet, hot thwack of his spit landing on your clit harshly and you cry out, unable to keep it in.

“Daaaaddy!” It’s loud and keening and you’re sure everyone on the other side of the wall hears.

But it’s all Mingyu needs and one, two, three, brutal thrusts later, he’s spilling deep into you, fucking you through his orgasm.

Your eyes fly open as he rubs at your clit with his thumb while he pulls out and slaps at your puffy clit before he brings your face close and presses back in for a long, deep kiss.

When he pulls away and meets your eyes there’s a mean glint in them and a shit eating grin that is almost frustrating enough to bring you back to tears.

“See baby, if you’d been good, I’d have made you come.”

“B-but! I was good, daddy! I was so good for you!” He settles you back down on wobbly legs and tucks himself back into his uniform.

You’re looking at him in indignation, tears brimming at eyes, threatening to fall. Mingyu’s eyes soften as he brushes the tears away with large thumbs and tucks your hair behind your ears.

It’s a futile attempt to have you looking presentable but your smudged lip gloss and the mess at the back of your head are enough to sell you both out for your halftime activities.

“Being good means not touching what belongs to daddy when he’s not there.”

All you can do is huff. He’s right.

You’re trying to fix how your jersey (a custom pink version of the Diamonds’ home jersey) is tucked into your skirt when you catch Mingyu picking something up from the floor.

It’s your underwear.

“Gimme!” You pout, trying to reach for it. But all Mingyu has to do is raise it above his head and it’s impossible for your to retrieve the flimsy lace

“I think I’ll keep this one for now,” he starts, “Think of it as a lucky charm.”

He unrolls the flimsy fabric and folds it into a small square, tucking it into his compression shorts and tightening up the drawstring of his uniform.

“If you want to be good for daddy tonight, you’ll keep all my cum inside of you, won’t you?” He says sweetly, talking you through the idea he’s suddenly come up with, “then daddy will win this game and fuck you with my medal on.”

After trying to get both of you presentable again, you slip out of the auxiliary locker room hand in hand just two minutes over Seungcheol’s initial 10 minute deadline.

You greet the team as they all line up again to return to the pitch and smile proudly as Mingyu talks to his teammates about feeling more relaxed and ready to play. You don’t miss the way he lets go of your hand just to wrap an arm around your waist, hand resting just on the curve of your ass as you two pass the players of the opposite team.

“Good luck, daddy. Come back to me a champion, please.” You bat your eyelashes at him and press the most innocent of kisses to his cheek.

The sweet moment is interrupted by an exuberant, “OKAY! LET’S GO!” from Hoshi.

You roll your eyes at him playfully but give in when he asks for a fist bump and says, “Tiny, thank you as always for your invaluable contribution to the Diamonds.”

You head off to where Hoshi’s girlfriend is seated, opting to be surrounded by friends and fans alike, but not before hearing the two teammates’ exchange.

“You ready to show them up, rockstar?” Is Hoshi’s jest.

Mingyu can only laugh and say, “Fuck you.”

And show them up he does. Just 6 minutes back on the pitch and Mingyu reminds everyone why he’s one of South Korea’s most prolific strikers. With an assist from Jeonghan Mingyu is lighting fast as he performs one of his signature moves and sends the ball flying to the top left corner of the goal.

You scream your throat hoarse as you watch him run across the pitch towards a camera, pointing and kissing the diamond crest on his chest.

Not long after that Mingyu nets a freekick from just beyond the penalty box, equalizing the game. With so much at stake and still so many minutes on the clock, you can hardly breathe easily, knowing it could still go either way. And it does. 

At the 80th minute the opposition scores their third goal and you could practically feel the Diamonds’ crowd deflating, fearing a repeat of the previous year.

“They can still equalize, I’m sure of it,” you hear Hoshi’s girlfriend from beside you, “As long as Soonyoung doesn’t fuck up and your boyfriend produces another one of his miracles, we can take this to penalties.”

You groan. You hate penalties, but you know how much this match means to Mingyu and the team.

Despite the possibilities, the game has gone into injury time and the crowd around you already look like they’re ready to pack up but sticking around just in case.

The majority of the players are crowded around the opponents’ goal, desperate feet hoping to score or hoping to defend. At this point some of the opposite side’s players are just trying to kill time to secure their win.

Hoshi is yelling orders from along the Diamonds’ midfield, abandoning his goal with the confidence that his teammates will surely take another goal. 

But time just about stops when the Diamonds are awarded a corner. Jeonghan looks like he’s dragging his feet about taking it, walking away to have someone else take the kick. But in a split second he turns back to kick the ball in a beautiful arch that meets none other than Mingyu’s right foot to take a third goal.

Hat trick.

Penalties are an awful cruel thing for any football fan, you think. Even after over ninety minutes a winner still isn’t decided and it falls down to each team’s five penalty takers and their goalkeepers.

Hoshi’s girlfriend is in hysterics next to you, gripping your hand like a lifeline. Mingyu had been the first to take his penalty, the ball floating almost gracefully and finding itself out of the keeper’s reach in a split second.

The score was at 4-3 with the Diamonds in the lead after Seungkwan’s attempt had found the back of the net neatly. If their opponents miss this, the championships would be theirs.

This all falls down to their captain.

Hoshi has always been so dependable and today is no exception. The very second he deflects that fifth and final attempt, cheers erupted in every direction and the final whistle is blown. 

The Diamonds won the Korean FA Cup.

The players, the coaches, and press flood the pitch and white confetti erupts around you. Before you know it your seatmate has vanished. She’s running across the pitch to jump into Hoshi’s arms, kissing away the tears pouring down his face, the team captain overcome with emotion.

Jealousy flares in your chest and you try to look everywhere for Mingyu. You stand indignantly, looking all over for him when you’re reminded of gravity.

The intensity of the match and the anxiety at its uncertainty had taken your mind away from your mid-match tryst with Mingyu and from the fact that he had come so deeply inside of you that it was only now that you were standing and pacing and you could feel the thick, sticky seed moving inside of you, threatening to drip out of your hole. You didn’t even have any underwear to catch it and sop up the mess, the lace neatly folded and tucked into Mingyu’s own underwear. 

You stamp your foot and a whine pathetically when you feel someone come up behind you. You quickly turn to see that, amidst the chaos, Mingyu had found you.

You’d only been away from each other for an hour but in that hour he had become a champion and that fact alone had changed him. He looked like some Greek hero with how he stood with pride painted on his face and how his handsome smirk screamed winner.

God, you needed to suck his cock. 

Luckily for you, Mingyu had the same idea. With the flurry around the win and the podium and carpets still being set up, the captain, manager, and executives still giving interviews, Mingyu knows everyone will be busy and he has time to whisk you away before anyone will even notice he’s gone.

That’s how you end up in the team’s main locker room, still a bit messy from the half time huddle, kneeling in front of Mingyu’s locker and choking on his cock.

“That’s right, baby. Take it slow so you can take more daddy in your mouth,” is his sweet encouragement before he takes the bottle of champagne next to him and takes a long swig.

You’re transfixed, blinking teary eyes to clear them, just so you don’t have to look away from the sight in front of you.

Mingyu had stripped everything off, feeling like he was overheating from the match he’d just played. He sat like a king, leaning back against his locker, spreading his legs and propping one leg up on the bench. He’d popped open a bottle of champagne and pressed the mouth of the bottle to your lips, watching the alcohol overflow from your mouth and drip down your chin to your neck and down your chest.

He kisses you shortly after, tasting the Moët on your tongue and pushing you down onto your knees.

There’s no need to preface anything because in no time you’re gagging on him. It doesn’t take much to have you drooling all over him, his cock so much bigger than what you should actually have in your mouth.

“You can fuck my throat, daddy, please please please!” You gasp out as he pulls you off of him so you can take in a deep breath.

“I know baby,” he says before taking another swig of that champagne, your eyes following the way his Adam's apple bobs. 

He leans down to bring the bottle to your mouth and says, “tongue out, my filthy girl.”

Your spit is thick and sticky in your mouth and you make a show of it when you follow his orders. He wraps a hand around your throat to steady you as he pours champagne into your mouth again, not caring about how much falls down the side of your mouth and dampens your jersey.

He leans back, pleased with the indulgent mess before him, and grabs at the hair at the crown of your head to pull you back down on his cock.

You’re a dream. You had been so good, so obedient at learning to take his cock over the years, and now he’s sure he’s molded himself into your throat the same way he’s made your pussy perfect for only him.

“My perfect girl’s got the most perfect mouth, huh?” He’s holding you down onto him, keeping your head in place, “The filthiest fucking mouth and its all for dad’s cock.”

The noises are disgusting. With your mouth full you can’t say anything but you’re happy just to listen to him come undone. Your spit and his pre-cum gather at the sides of your mouth but you don’t want to stop until he’s pumping his sticky cum onto your tongue.

You pull off of him to lave your tongue over his balls, sucking on one and then the other before saying, “Daddy, I think I deserve to drink your cum, right?”

Mingyu swears under his breath, somehow still not believing how lucky he got with you, your depraved mind the only one that can match his own.

He downs the rest of the champagne and moves to kiss you, sharing the drink. You gulp down what you can before going back down on him, holding down his hips as the muscles beneath your fingers jerk as he fills your mouth. 

Mingyu comes in thick ropes of sticky hot cum that you almost have trouble swallowing, but daddy trained you to be a good girl, thankful for everything she gets. So you swallow every single drop, proudly showing Mingyu your empty mouth.

“Atta girl.”

You try to be on your best behavior and good for Mingyu for the rest of the evening. You’re the picture-perfect girlfriend watching and cheering proudly as he gets his gold medal and the team cheers in unison once Hoshi lifts the trophy above his head. The pictures are taken and the interviews are given but there’s only so much you can take and by the time Mingyu has you buckled up into his car, you’re feeling unnecessarily bratty.

“Baby,” Mingyu starts. You’re some fifteen minutes away from his house and he’s about to get into it now?

“Mm,” is your petulant response.

“Listen to me,” he warns.

But it almost comes as an instinct to you to retaliate, having the most fun when you two go back and forth like this.

“Don’ wanna.”

From the corner of your eye you see his jaw harden.

“Didn’t daddy fill you up, today?” He says as more of a statement.

“He did.”

“Didn’t daddy feed you his come, princess?”

You start to flush, “He did.”

“And then didn’t daddy say he was going to fuck you with his medal on if he won the championships?”

He’s pulling up to his house now and you almost let out a sigh of relief.

“He did,” you answer.

He parks and turns to you, “Then you are going to get out of this car and head up to our room and you are going to strip yourself naked.”

You’ve been waiting for this. Finally, away from any prying eyes and ears, no matter how accepting, you can finally let loose and have him every way you want him.

“Daddy will park the car and unload the stuff and when I come into the room I better see that messy pussy served up for me.”

There’s buzzing in your ears and you bite your lips.

“Of course, daddy.”

It starts with your good intentions, really.

You had asked him kindly to lay back against the pillows and the headboard promising that you were going to be real good, daddy, I promise! And that you were so proud of him, that he was so yummy on the field and of course he was going to be the winner.

You wanted to reward him, said that daddy deserves to be ridden to have your tits in his face, to be spoiled.

To be fair, it was a valiant effort on your end. Once he’d settled into bed, you squealed and threw yourself over him, chest to chest as you rubbed your bare pussy onto his cock.

You were aching to be stuffed but you know how sloppy and wet he likes your pussy to be. And through his cum from earlier today was smeared all over your cunt and thighs, you knew you could do better for him.

You pressed kisses to his chest while running your hands over the dips and divots, the hardness and softness of his chest and abs and sighed dreamily as you met his eyes through thick lashes, “I love you daddy, I’m so happy for you.”

“I love you too, baby. I’m happy I made you happy,” was his simple response.

You bit your lip at the elation that filled your chest and you pressed a quick kiss to the gold medal resting on his chest. You stood on your knees on either side of his hips and kept one hand on his stomach to steady yourself as you lined his cock with your entrance.

The delicious stretch and resistance was still there as you sank down on him, his own spend mixing with your slick, making the slide delicious.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off how your pussy split open to take all of him. The pace is slow and your whimpers of “Daddy, daddy, daddy” made his head spin.

But while slow and romantic was good, it was always just how your love making started. This was all before your thighs had grown tired and your lower back started to hurt.

Mingyu tried to talk you through it, guide your hips on how to grind just right for the head of his cock to press against that spot inside of you. Even his encouragement of you can do it, pretty, daddy’s tired is futile when you finally cry out.

“But daddyyyyy,” comes the high pitched whine, “I’M TIRED TOO. Don’t you feel bad for your baby?”

And he breaks at that.

He sits up and flips the two of you over without even pulling out and your eyes roll as the movements jostle him inside of you.

The anticipation is reaching its boiling point when lifts one leg and places it over his shoulder and pulls out of you to rest his cock on your sopping cunt.

He loves this. It’s fucking sick, but he loves to see how big he is compared to your little hole. He loves to see the head of his cock aligned with your belly button and how you clench around nothing, already missing him inside you.

Before he decides to push his cock back inside you he grasps himself by the base and rubs harshly at your entrance and clit with the engorged head of his cock. It makes you squeal as the rough stimulation shocks your system.

He had left you hanging during half time, with only just enough time for him to fill you up, and you had been too preoccupied blowing him to rub yourself to completion after the match.

But the blessed feeling of an orgasm is finally bubbling back onto the surface now that Mingyu was focusing on your pleasure.

“You’ll give me this, right, baby?” He says pulling you back to him. He wants you to be present, to know how he’s making your body tick, “Be my good girl and wet my cock, daddy wants this pussy to be dripping when he fucks it.”

You whimper in acknowledgment and he speeds up his ministrations, the stimulation getting to him as well as beads of pre-cum mix with your slick and eventually, the spray of your cum squirting out of you messily. 

Your moan is music to his ears and you cry out as he pushes his cock into you, not giving you even a second of respite.

With both hands free, Mingyu positions both of your legs over his shoulders, your stupid frilly socks tickling his ears. This position is a favorite for the both of you. He loves how deep he can fuck you like this, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. And you love how when you put your hand just under your belly button, you can see and feel how his cock moves inside you.

“Fuck, look at you,” he says all too breathless, “So fucking perfect.” The sweat beading on his face falls on your temples and you want to cry — what a waste not to taste him on your tongue.

“My perfect little cocksleeve, that I made just for me, isn’t that right. Fuck.” He’s losing it and God do you want him to fall apart.

He pulls away slightly and laughs to himself a little when he sees how his medal, still around his neck, is resting on your chest, bouncing slightly as he continues to fuck into you. What a sight. And only his.

What a day it’s been for him to have woken up in this very bed alone and just another football player hoping for a dream to come true. And to end up here now, in the same bed with you calling out to him like a litany of prayers and his champion’s medal sitting between your tits, bite marks on the flesh contrasting prettily against the yellow gold.

He bites his lip and focuses on your bodies and how you can barely get the word ‘daddy’ out coherently, mumbling dadd-da-daddy-dad unintelligibly. He does you a kindness and presses a hand down where your smaller one is, and thrusts hashly, loving the way you clench around him as you finally reach a second peak. The vice grip your pussy has on his cock is enough to push him over the edge as well, spilling another load into you and your eyes flutter shut.

Mingyu doesn’t pull out of you but sets your legs down and massages the insides of your thighs because he knows you’ll complain about them tomorrow.

He slips off his medal and sets it on the bedside table next to your phones.

After arranging your bodies to be more comfortable, he presses soft kisses on your ear and into your hair, chuckling slightly as you mumble in your sleep that it tickles. 

Mingyu can’t help but keep that smile even as he settles down. It feels so good to be a winner.

-`✮´- if you've come this far, thank you and it'd mean the world to get a reblog or to hear your thoughts on my first fic on here!

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hello I'm sorry if I'm bothering you but I had an idea about a hazbin hotel request, so what if everyone at the hotel (except Alastor) consider the reader a big sister who takes shit from no one, like will slap someone without hesitation if they talk bad about any of their friends, especially when Valentino tries something will literally beat him up until he's half dead. (If you're not comfortable with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or goodnight)

Oh, nonnie, you are never a bother! I love getting new requests, feeds my soul tbh. I love this idea too! As much as I love romantic x readers and NS/FW x readers, I also love me some platonic Hazbin 🤍 good morning/afternoon/evening to you and ENJOY!

Notes: fem!reader, this is kinda short sorry, added Alastor at the end but just a snippet :)

TW: aggression, fighting, swearing

Rough and Tough- Hazbin x platonic!reader

Charlie ❤️‍🔥

Adores your passion and bravery but is often the one to hold you back or stand between you and your foe.

She loves keeping you close tho bc she has a hard time asserting dominance and speaking up for herself and you’re always willing to speak your mind on her behalf. You always help uplift and empower her, she greatly appreciates that.

Charlie also really does see you as a sister. As an only child, she grew up pretty sheltered and lonely, but being with you now is really healing her inner child.

When Charlie is having any kind of issue, she always goes to Vaggie, her darling girlfriend. But, when Charlie feels the need to vent about and get advice on her relationship with Vaggie, she turns to you. When Vaggie is busy and away, Charlie goes to you.

Pretty much every weekend, Charlie invites you and the other girls in the hotel to her room for a sleep over and some fun girly time

You def tagged along with her to the meeting with heaven along with Vaggie and while Vaggie is like “keep a cool head, babe.” You’re literally trying to climb up to where Adam is seated so you can rip that smug smile off his stupid, ignorant, narcissistic face and slap Lute with it.

Vaggie’s just panicking as she tries to keep you and Charlie calm lmao

Vaggie ⚔️

TWO PEAS IN A POD TBH

Vaggie adores you and you are often each other’s impulse control and each others biggest instigators

Vaggie getting pissed that someone is trying to sabotage the hotel and storming up to the traitor with her angelic spear cocked back and ready to kill

Enter big sis pulling her back and trying to talk some sense into her

Also you getting livid when someone talks negatively about Vaggie being a fallen angel, or worse being a former exorcist and being untrustworthy

Bad words and ugly names are pouring from your angry mouth, fists balled up and ready to go, muscles tense in anticipation

Cue Vags hugging you as she pulls you away, whispering that it doesn’t bother her so don’t let it bother you

But it bothers you bc you know it bothers her…she doesn’t deserve that.

As Rosie said, maybe she’s trying to be redeemed too…? Being shit talked is only going to put bad thoughts in her head and you can’t stand to see your family belittled like that

Sometimes, if the situation is just bad enough, you and Vaggie lose it together and no one can stop yall now. It’s honestly just as frightening as when Alastor shows his full demon form, you and Vaggie violently teamed up together like this.

Angry Vaggie + Angry big sis reader = a terrible ending for whoever is at the sharp end of her spear and at the mercy of your fists

Angel Dust 🕸️

Is very intimidated by you at first but grows so fond of you as he gets to know you. He admires your courage so much, he wishes he could be more like you.

He never feels safer than when he’s at the hotel with you near by. He knows that whatever he lacks when up against an opponent, you’ll be there to pick up the slack and watch his back.

Angel doesn’t have many true friends or familial figures in hell, and he misses his own sister so terribly. You fill that empty spot in his heart so perfectly, he wishes you had been around when he was still alive.

You two hang out a lot- his flirty, bubbly, goofy demeanor and your kind, accepting but stubborn attitude makes for some fun late night talks and some exciting outings together

Some dude tries to touch Angel out on the street without his consent? Oh fuck no. Before he knows it, the loser demon is groaning from the hard concrete floor as you grab Angel by the wrist, both of you stepping over the banged up body of the handsy asshole.

“It’s called consent! Look it up, ya fuckin prick.” Angel gets such a confidence boost being with you, you are the physical threat and he is the voice that tears them apart even further. You bruise their skin, he bruises their ego

Angel can’t help but laugh everytime you lose it for him. He just enjoys your company and support so much. He says he can handle himself and while he totally can, it’s just nice to have someone back him up, someone who truly cares for him.

Husk 🃏

BRO IS SUCH AN INSTIGATOR!!!

While Vaggie and Charlie often try to hold you back and calm you down, Husk cheers you on in any and every tense situation you find yourself in

“Oooooh you’re in for it now, bone head.” He’ll smirk and watch with a pleased smirk on his face as you pummel some sinner who dared to threaten the hotel and its residents

Husk’s fav pastime is sitting back with a bottle of booze as he watches you just go ham on some stupid, loud mouth loser who tried to pick a fight with the former overlord

Husk isn’t afraid of a fight, he’s not afraid to get up close and personal with the action but he must admit it’s nice to feel cared for enough to have someone sacrifice their own safety just to protect him.

The only time Husk has intervened during one of your episodes of frustration and rage is when Alastor said something to Husk that rubbed you the wrong way. Seeing Husk’s terrified and helpless expression in response to Alastor’s threats lights a fire in your chest.

“How dare you talk to him like that! I don’t give a shit if you own him, he’s not your fucking pet, you piece of-“

Husk practically, no literally begged Alastor to let it go and leave you be which he did but only bc he sort of admired your lack of fear and your loving but fierce protective attitude.

Husk also greatly admires your lack of fear and strong will. He wishes you were his family for real, maybe he wouldn’t be so depressed and fucked up.

Sir Pentious 🐍

Admires tf out of you, babies tf out of you.

He sees you as more of a little sis, wanting to coddle and defend you always.

Sees you coming back to the hotel one day with some bruises and bloody hands and hes immediately comforting you, trying to clean you up even tho you’re clearly fine.

But, he must confess he loves teaming up with you bc together you’re the perfect pair- Pentious with his tools and inventions and intricate weapons and you with your amazing strength and hot headed, witty comebacks and your courage and your quick thinking.

When he feels that he needs to step in and keep you from doing something stupid, he does so with all his might. Pentious would rather face your wrath himself than let you go and get yourself hurt or killed.

Go ahead, take your anger out on him but don’t risk yourself just for him.

You two totally bond over wanting to be seen as evil, devious and powerful but you’re both actually soft little sweet hearts deep down.

You two cry together a lot lmao. It’s always him crying first and then his crying triggers you.

He would frequently talk to you about how you are always so brave, fearless, strong, never faltering, never second guessing yourself. He’d ask where you learned to be so sure of yourself, he wants to learn to be more like that.

Alastor 🩸

SEES YOU AS HIS EQUAL BUT WILL NEVER ADMIT IT. CANT UNDERSTAND HOW YOU STAND YOUR GROUND AGAINST EVERY ENEMY YOU’VE EVER TAKEN ON, EVEN HIMSELF. YOU HAVE NO POWERS, YOU OWN NO SOULS, YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS PARTNERS OR BLOOD RELATIVES DOWN HERE SO WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU’RE SO SPECIAL??? YOU’RE NOT SCARED OF HIM? OH, VERY INTERESTING. HE WANTS TO CUT YOUR LITTLE BRAIN OPEN AND EXAMINE IT, YOU’RE JUST AN ENIGMA TO HIM, HE ADORES YOU. WISHES YOU REALLY WERE THE DAUGHTER HE SPAWNED FOR REAL FOR REAL HE’D BE SO PROUD

[naturesapphic]

Heyyyy babyyy can u write a fic of dom billie giving bratty ready a spanking an then fucking us reallll good while degrading us like the little needy whore that we are

Like we been teasing her ALL day and distracting her while she’s working so she decided to take matter into her own hands

(Mommy kink/dom etc.)

Thank you love u and ur fanfics xoxo

Distraction

Dom!billie eilish x sub!fem!reader

Warnings: smut!, Dom/sub, mommy kink, spanking, strap-on, cussing

You knew you were in for it when Billie gave you that look. You were so screwed and you were excited for it. You’ve been teasing and talking back to her all day. You wore booty shorts with no underwear and you made sure Billie knew too. Billie of course knew, she’s always very observant so she saw all the little tricks and teasing you tried to sneak in. Whenever she told you something to do you would always tell her no and to fuck off. Of course she was livid but she didn’t say anything and just did it herself, waiting for the right time to punish you later.

That’s why you are naked, in the middle of the bed, sprawled out like she had told you to. It wasn’t before long that she came back inside of the bedroom with some toys in her arms. She smirked at your shocked face and placed the toys beside you. “Get on my lap.” She demanded and you shook your head no which made her more pissed. “You still wanna be a fucking brat huh?” She seethed as she grabbed you and placed you over her lap, your bare ass in front of her.

She spanked your ass twenty times before you were crying and begging her to stop. “Awww my poor pathetic baby. Your punishment is over but if you disobey me again, I’ll edge you for a full day.” She threatened and you nodded your head fast. She smirked and laid you back on the bed. Billie stood up and grabbed a purple strap on and secured it around her waist. “Since you took your punishment so well I decided to give you a reward.” She stated and you whimpered out, giving her somewhat of an answer.

Billie went on top of your body and plunged inside of you, making you cry out. “Awww my little whore cant it huh? Well this is your fucking reward and you are gonna take it like the good slut you are.” She grunted near your ear as she pounds into you. “M-mommy…” you moan out and Billie smiles at you. “Hm yes baby?” She said in a fake innocent voice. “F-feels s-so good mommy..” you babble out as you go further into sub space. “Awwww I know my pathetic baby. Gonna absolutely ruin you.” Billie says as she pounds into you harder and faster. You whimper and close your eyes tight, feeling your orgasm approaching.

“You gonna cum already slut? Fine be a whore them. Come on cum.” She demanded as she leaned down to attack your neck with her lips. You felt your stomach clench and your legs shake as you cum hard on her strap. Billie slowly pulled out of you, watching your cum spill out of your pussy. She smiles at your fucked out state and starts the aftercare on the two of you. You may be bratty at times but she always knows how to fuck it out of you.

A/n: thank you for the request and for your support anon! I hope y’all enjoyed! I’ll be posting twice for Billie for a couple of days to get these requests out so keep an eye out for them :) remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all! :)

[yoonkinii]

Jealous Y♡u

Warning(s): cursing, jealousy, flirting with a taken man, hints to having sex (no smut though), anger, extreme kissing :3 Requests open (only for this AU) Masterlist (check for more AU content!) note: Sorry it's short! I couldn't get this idea out of my head and had to write it.

No matter how extravagant the restaurant was, your mood remained sour - a shame, really. 

Nestles in the heart of the city’s glittering downtown, the restaurant gleamed like a polished gem beneath the soft glow of its artfully arranged lighting. The entrance, framed by lush greenery and a discreet brass plaque, hinted at the understated elegance within. The sounds of lively conversations mingled with the gentle clinking of fine china and crystals, creating an atmosphere of refined luxury. 

Inside, the restaurant was a harmonious blend of contemporary design and classic sophistication, while the walls, dressed in muted shades of ivory and taupe, provided a serene backdrop. Large, abstract paintings added splashes of vibrant color - mesmerizing, but now only contributed to your growing headache.

You couldn’t sit still at your designated table, too restless and irritated to remain in one place. The business party was still in full swing, with unfamiliar faces chattering about topics you didn’t understand. When Sukuna invited you to his yearly business event, you were excited. It was a formality he dreaded but had to attend to maintain business relationships. But now, surrounded by strangers and trapped in your own thoughts, the excitement had long faded, leaving you adrift in a sea of discontent. 

A burst of laughter causes you to drag your eyes away from the expansive window, where the cityscape below had tried and failed to distract you as you sipped on your champagne. The laughter of the very person responsible for your agitation was hard to ignore. Your anger had been simmering for the past hour, and it was about to reach a boiling point. Perhaps it was the alcohol buzzing through your system, fraying your patience more than usual. Maybe it was a combination of everything. Either way, you were livid. 

Your eyes lock onto the two figures who have you clenching your glass a little too tightly, a tight-lipped grimace playing on your mouth as you watch them for what feels like the umpteenth time. You don’t know who she is or what her name is, but at this moment, you don’t care. To you, she’s simply that woman. 

She was pretty, very pretty, and she knew it. It was evident in her choice of attire - a brown bodycon dress that hugged her figure, accentuating her curves and leaving little to the imagination. You had noticed her the moment you walked into the restaurant. She had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, with a smile a little too wide as she greeted your boyfriend. Normally, you wouldn’t have minded; it’s not like you’re the jealous type. But after her backhanded comment, something inside you snaps. 

“Oh! I totally expected you to be with someone else.”

From that moment, everything went downhill. She completely disregarded the seating arrangements, forcing someone else to take her original spot so she could sit on the other side of Sukuna. Her behavior escalated from a harmless crush on your boyfriend to blatantly throwing herself at a taken man. It started with seemingly innocent compliments before progressing into something worse. 

“I like your hair today.”

“That shirt looks great on you.”

“Your piercings suit you.”

And poor Sukuna, completely oblivious to this woman’s intentions, responded to her words with a simple hum, not truly paying attention to her at all. To his credit, Sukuna was focused on one thing - you. His hand rested on your thigh, the pads of his fingers massaging the delicate skin of your inner thigh absentmindedly. Throughout the main course, Sukuna leaned into your ear, whispering who was who or making sly comments about others, relishing in the way your soft laughter danced in the air. 

Sukuna remains oblivious to the woman’s intentions, his mind filled with thoughts of you, and only you. He doesn’t notice the way she inches closer, or the way her laughter seems to cling to his every word. His focus is entirely on you, but you don’t see it that way. You don’t see the way his gaze softens whenever you meet his eyes. Dressed in a cream-colored dress with a square neckline that leaves your collar bones on display, you’re the picture of elegance. Sukuna is sure that anyone who cared to notice would definitely see how his expression changes when he looks at you. 

But she doesn’t give up easily. Even after the meal, her persistence lingers like an unwanted shadow. She laughs at everything Sukuna says, her hands constantly finding its way to his biceps, her body icing closer with each passing  minute. Even as Sukuna excuses himself with a kiss on your cheek to speak with a close business partner, she follows, as if tethered to him. 

And so, you find yourself in your current state, scowling as you watch her from across the room. Her laughter is loud and shrill, cutting through the fin of conversations around you. A server passes by, and you force a strained smile as you exchange your empty glass for a full one. The rim of the glass soon bears the stain of your red lipsticks as you hover it near your lips. 

Then, it happens in slow motion. Sukuna’s lips move as he speaks, a faint smile gracing his face as he talks with an older gentleman. But her reaction is out of place; she laughs far too heartily for something that isn’t even remotely funny. As her shoulders shake with her exaggerated laughter, she wraps her arms around Sukuna’s arm, pressing her chest firmly against him. 

Before Sukuna can even register what’s happening, you’re already by his side. Your champagne glass is abandoned on a nearby table as you wedge yourself between them, forcing her to disentangle herself from him. She stares at you, wide-eyed, and it takes every ounce of restraint not to whip that look of confusion off her face with your fist. 

With barley concealed sarcasm, you address her, your voice dripping with venomous politeness. “Sorry, I need to borrow my boyfriend. Is that alright with you?”

She’s visibly taken aback, her pout deepening as she glances at Sukuna, as if expecting him to rescue her from this situation. But Sukuna, feeling the tug on his arm, follows you as you lead him away, guiding him to a secluded area- the restroom. 

The restroom is dimly lit, with warm hanging bulbs casting a soft glow. The black wooden floors and walls accentuate the golden accents of the large, well-lit vanity. A few potted plants sit in the corners, adding a touch of life to the otherwise moody atmosphere. 

Sukuna barely has time to react before you push him into the restroom, the door clicking shut behind you as you turn your back on him, your breaks deep and uneven in an attempt to calm your rising anger. But it’s not working. The fury simmering inside you is only growing hotter. 

“I’m going to fucking kill her,” you hiss through clenched teeth. 

“Jealous, are we?” His voice laced with amusement. 

You whirl around, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat. Sukuna’s lips curve into a smile, clearly entertained by your fiery demeanor. It’s not often he sees you this worked up, and he can’t help but find it endearing, even if the pout on your lips is more adorable than intimidating. 

“I am not jealous,” you retort, though your words come out less convincing than you intended. 

“Oh?” His brow arches in mock surprise, arms crossing over his broad chest. The fabric of his dress shirt strains against his muscles, the buttons barely holding on, as if threatening to pop off at any moment if he breathes too deeply. 

Damn him for looking so good. Damn him for those tattoos that decorate his skin. Damn his piercings, and the new one on his lip. Damn him. Damn him. Damn him.

Before he can tease you further, you grab him by the collar, pulling him down as you rise on your toes. Sukuna grunts in surprise as your lips crash into his. His hands instinctively slide down your back, finding their place on the curve of your ass, where he gives a gentle squeeze, encouraging you. 

“I hate her.” You mumble against his lips.

Sukuna smirks, ready to make a playful comment, but it does on his lips the moment your mouth moves to his neck. Your kisses are wicked, nipping, and sucking at his skin, leaving a trail of red marks in their wake. He shudders, feeling the sting of each possessive kiss, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. 

You both stumble in the small space of the restroom, Sukuna pushing you back until your spine meets the cool surface of the locked door. A breathy exhale escapes him as he tilts his head, granting you better access to his neck. The sensation of your lips painting his skin with red blooms sends a shiver down his spine. 

“Shit.” He mummers, his legs slotting in between yours, pressing himself impossibly closer to you. 

Your brows knit together as you guide his face lower, your fingers firm on his chin. Sukuna feels like he’s burning up from the inside, his eyes darkening with desire as he takes in the intensity of your gaze. The sight of your smudged lipstick only adds fuel to the fire, tightening his grip on you and stirring something primal in him.

You cup his cheeks, your lips leaving no inch of his face untouched - his cheeks, his forehead, the corners of his mouth. Everywhere. When you finally try to pull away, his reaction is swift. One of his hands that had been resting on your ass shoots up to the nape of your neck, pulling you back into a fierce kiss. 

A soft breath escapes your lips, and Sukuna seizes the opportunity, deepening the kiss as he explores your mouth with a fervor that sends a shiver down your spine. A needy whine escapes you as his hands rove across your body, squeezing and caressing with a possessive hunger. Every touch, every press of his fingers, feels like he’s staking his claim on you, and it only intensifies the fire within him. He wants more. No, he needs more. How dare you make him feel this way- jealous of him, when every fiber in his being is devoted to you? How dare you kiss him with such need when he’s been restraining himself, battling the urge to ravage you every waking moment. 

A sudden knock on the door startles you, causing you to jerk back so sharply that your head smacks against the wood. A hiss of pain slips from your lips, and Sukuna’s deep laugh rumbles through his chest, the sound vibrating against your body. 

“Um, excuse me, you've been in there for a while and-”

“Leave before I kill you with my bare hands,” Sukuna growls, his eyes never leaving yours, even as you shy away, your cheeks burning with embarrassment at being interrupted. 

Silence follows as the unwelcome intruder quickly retreats, leaving the two of you alone once more. 

Sukuna exhales, the tension in his body still palpable, but now there’s a look of pride in your eyes as you take in his disheveled appearance. His lips are swollen, his hair a tousled mess from your hands, and his skin is covered in red marks left by your lipstick - a masterpiece of your own making. His body is a canvas, and you’ve painted it with your passion. 

He forces himself to step back, muscles taut with restraint. He wants nothing more than to take you here and not, but duty calls, and he knows he must stay for the remainder of the party. If not for that, he would have dragged you out of the restaurant to finish what you started in the privacy of his home. If he could even make it that far. 

“Leave,” he orders, his voice tight with the effort it takes to say the words. It’s the last thing he wants, but if you stay, neither of you will be leaving the restroom anytime soon. 

You smile softly at him, noting the frustration in the slight downturn of his lips. 

“Don’t take it off,” you reply, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you turn to leave. 

Sukua gives you a confused look before glancing at the mirror. His breath catches in his throat when he sees the array of kiss marks you’ve left on his skin. He turns back, but you’re already gone. 

You are not a jealous person. That’s what you tell yourself as you cast a knowing glance at the woman who had dared to overstep her bounds. It’s not jealousy that fuels you as you reclaim your seat, your once-discarded champagne glass now back in hand. It’s not jealousy that brings a surge of satisfaction when you see the disheartened look on her face as Sukuna emerges from the restroom, his skin marked with the evidence of your affection. It’s not jealousy that makes you giddy as he resumes his conversations with business partners, completely unbothered by his less-than-ideal appearance. 

No, you are not a jealous person.  

-

Taglist (open): @kalulakunundrum , @fushipurro , @sad-darksoul , @cupcaketeddybehr

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | close as strangers (post chb)

a/n: okayyyy so i didn't give them an angst ending but i had to give into the angst monster at least once for this series so here's a bonus chapter for poisoned mercury. miscommunication galore. long distance is hard! two dumbasses in love!

song: close as strangers by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

"i'll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?" luke whispered, trying not to wake his bandmates up. the tour bus was large enough to house them while they were on the road, but it didn't really give the privacy he hoped for. chris was just across the narrow walkway from him and luke could hear his soft snores through the thin curtain that separated them. 

luke felt his heart hammering in his chest when you didn't reply to him. he could still hear your breaths through the phone and you were just talking to him a second ago, so he knew you were still awake. you both had equally busy lives which meant that your phone calls were getting shorter and shorter each day. luke knew it was because you were booked with school and tournaments for field hockey and he was always exhausted after each meeting now that the band was working on their second album. luke knew all of this, but it didn't stop him from missing you. he was lucky to get a ten-minute call with you nowadays. 

"baby?" he tried again, chewing on his bottom lip. he turned to face the ceiling of his bunk, the light from his phone casting a shadow on his face as he waited for you to say something. anything. "can i call you tomorrow?" 

you sighed, "i don't know, luke. i have a busy day. it's a travel game tomorrow so i don't know if i'll be up late." 

"oh," he cleared his throat, trying to hide his disappointment. he felt a little stupid that there were tears pooling in his eyes. so you can't talk tomorrow, it shouldn't be a big deal, right? except that luke felt like you were pulling away from him. little by little. and he didn't know how to stop it. it wasn't like he could drop everything to show up at your doorstep and fix things with you. if it was up to him, he would do it in a heartbeat, but you'd probably get mad at him for it, for abandoning his responsibilities as the lead singer of the most popular band in the world. not to mention the boys would be livid and mr. d and his mom would be equally furious. 

"sorry, maybe next week?" 

"yeah, sure," he replied, thankful that you weren't on facetime tonight. he didn't want you to see his face. "alright, i'll let you get some rest. go kill it tomorrow. g'night, five star." 

"goodnight," you said, ending the call as soon as the last syllable left your lips. 

luke groaned quietly, tossing his phone on the foot of his bed. he knew long distance was going to be difficult. it's been months since he last saw you, months since he was at camp half blood, sleeping in your bed and waking up to the feeling of your lips peppering kisses on his face. maybe he shouldn't have gotten so attached so fast, but it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter. 

he got out from his bunk, tucking his feet into his slippers and made his way to the living room area of the bus. he sat on the couch, peering out the window to watch the empty roads ahead. they were on their way to nashville to meet with a producer that mr. d recommended. the second album was almost done, but it was missing something and none of them wanted to put out a record that didn't meet their expectations. 

mr. d was already in tennessee waiting for them. he'd flown in from houston a few days ago with luke's mom and the rest of the poisoned mercury team while the boys were in atlanta for a movie premiere. they decided that a road trip was needed to de-stress after the glitz and buzz of the red carpet. it was nice to have some alone time with the boys. in their tour bus, luke felt like they were back in connecticut, just four friends fucking around, writing music, and eating junk food until their stomachs hurt. 

he turned on the tv, switching to some random channel that he wasn't paying attention to. he just needed some noise to drown out his thoughts, but that didn't seem to work. all he could think of was you, his five star, and how much he missed you. luke wondered if you were having second thoughts about this whole thing. maybe he'd been too optimistic about things; maybe you weren't on the same page as he was; maybe you realized that it was too difficult to be with him. 

a shiver ran down his spine as he spiraled into his thoughts. admitting to himself that something was wrong between the two of you left a bitter taste in his mouth because he didn't want to believe it. he saw you as his endgame, like nobody else in the world could compare to you, and to think that you may not feel the same about him... well, it was a difficult pill to swallow.

he wondered if he came on too strong, showed his cards too early, and seemed too clingy and lovestruck before it was deemed appropriate. you'd only been together, officially at least, for four months, most of which were long distance, but luke knew he was a goner for you way before that. 

he silently cursed as the chill of the december air hit his skin. he should've worn a hoodie. he grabbed the small throw blanket draped over the armchair and placed it around his shoulders. he wished he got to see you over thanksgiving break because maybe you two wouldn't be in this rocky situation right now, but your coach ordered you and clarisse to stay on campus over break to sharpen your skills since you missed summer training. luke and chris were less than pleased with the idea, but they knew it was out of their control. 

luke fell asleep on the couch that night after succumbing to the tiredness in his body. the sun was beginning to rise by the time his eyelids fluttered shut. he hoped that he'd wake up to a text from you, but when he woke up to the sound of the bus screeching to a halt in nashville, he realized it was the hope that kills. 

-

“are you guys going to the fall concert?” silena asked, poking her head out of the bathroom. she was part of the planning committee for the unc fall semester concert and she’d been stressing over the logistics of it for weeks. 

“lena, if we even tried to miss it, you’d kill us,” clarisse chuckled, putting on a coat of mascara. “you’ve been talking about this since we got back.” 

the three of you were getting ready in your dorm. you and clarisse were roommates this year, thank gods for athlete privileges, and silena lived in the building next door in a single since she was an ra. how she had the time to be an ra, be a member of the music festival planning committee, and be a full-time student was truly beyond your comprehension. 

“lena, calm down. it’ll be good,” you squeezed her shoulders as you passed by behind her, grabbing your lipgloss from the counter. “and even if it sucks, half the people in the crowd are either drunk or high or both and will probably not remember it.” 

“true,” she snorted, curling the final piece of her hair. she unplugged her hair curler and gave herself one last look in the mirror, “i’ll see you guys there? i gotta go make sure shit didn’t hit the fan.” 

you and clarisse nodded as silena said her goodbyes. you dabbed on some lipgloss, glancing down at your phone every few seconds. clarisse side-eyed you, unable to hide her smile, “you waitin’ for a text?” 

“shut up,” you rolled your eyes at her teasing tone. she didn't really know that your relationship was a little muddy at the moment. you weren’t the best at talking about your feelings and it felt wrong to talk about your relationship drama when clarisse and chris seemed to be going strong. “they’re supposed to land in los angeles ten minutes ago.” 

“their flight probably got delayed, y/n,” she replied, “happens all the time.” 

“no, i know, but just wanna make sure they’re safe, y’know?” 

clarisse crossed her arms over her chest, “they’re safe or he’s safe?” 

you ignored her question, opting to busy yourself with the weather app on your phone to avoid any follow-up questions, “how are you not checking your phone for a text from chris right now?” 

she shrugged, “he always knocks out on long flights so i don’t expect a text until he gets to their hotel.” 

“how are you and chris, by the way? i know we live together and shit, but i feel like we haven’t gotten to talk about it in detail since we’re always so tired from school and practice.” 

“we’re good,” clarisse hummed, “just miss him loads, though. i haven’t seen him since we left camp– what? four, almost five, months ago?” 

you were in the same boat, kind of. you and luke hadn’t seen each other in months and you were getting antsy. they’d been on the road for the past few months, meeting with producers and fulfilling their contractual obligations. they hadn’t been in a set location long enough for you to be able to fly out to see luke, even just for a weekend. 

at first, there were movie dates where you’d order each other food and eat and watch the movie on facetime together. there were weekly phone calls and daily texts, but nothing compares to the real thing. being with luke in person was something that you were craving. camp half blood spoiled you with having him all for yourself and now that you were back in school and he’s out in the world, it was beginning to weigh on you. 

you missed him. a lot. 

you missed kissing him and feeling his lips break out into a smile when you’d mumble something stupid. you missed feeling his arms around you, hugging you from behind while you got ready for the day. you even missed waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of him scribbling random lyrics on pieces of scrap paper he found in your room when he slept over. 

long distance is hard and sure, luke wouldn’t be the type to cheat or do anything to jeopardize your relationship, but it still didn’t stop a knot from forming in your stomach every time a picture of him or the band popped up on your social media with a gorgeous singer, actor, or model that they ran into on the red carpet. what if he realizes one day that he wants someone who lives the same life as him? wild and adventurous, not tied down by school or sports? 

a part of you felt silly for being so insecure about things. it was too early in the relationship to have this conversation, isn’t it? you knew that your avoidance of the topic was starting to affect your relationship with luke, as much as you wished it didn’t, but what if the minute you voice your concerns, he’ll realize that being with you was more than he bargained for? after all, you weren’t the same five star with all the time in her hands, care-free, and relaxed that he met at camp. there was a chance that luke would call it quits on this if you said anything and it felt like too big of a risk to take. 

your phone buzzed on the counter, indicating a text.

from: luke <3 

‘landed and jetlagged. gonna sleep for a few. enjoy the concert babe!’ 

you hearted the message and slipped your phone into your back pocket after sending him a quick goodnight text. the three dots popped up for a second, then in a blink, they disappeared. read at 8:43 pm. 

“you ready?” 

you snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of clarisse’s voice. you nodded and grabbed your small purse before heading out the door. you ran into a group of your teammates who were heading to the amphitheater across campus for the concert. the walk seemed to fly by as they cracked jokes and shared stories about random things. you stayed silent for the most part, only laughing along when it seemed like the right time, but your mind was somewhere else. your mind was in los angeles. 

by the time you got to the venue, you and clarisse separated from the group to enter the vip tent, courtesy of silena. a small crowd was beginning to form in front of the stage, taking up the grassy field. charlie was already at the tent, sipping on an ipa when he saw the two of you. his face broke out into a wide smile, giving you and clarisse a quick hug before leading you to the seats he saved. 

“season’s looking promising for you guys, charlie,” you commented, accepting the high noon he offered. “the team’s looking good out there.” 

“thanks,” he beamed, “don’t think we’re on the level of national champs just yet like you guys, but we’re trying!” 

“you guys are doing great,” clarisse chimed in, “the energy in the stadium is electric this year. makes me love college.” 

“are you telling me the papers and tests aren’t what makes you love college, la rue?” charlie teased. 

she snorted, “oh yeah, because i just love staying up until 1 am writing a paper on greek mythology for classics 101.”

the three of you fell into a comfortable conversation about the class you were all taking. it was a prerequisite class that most athletes choose to take because the professor was flexible with deadlines when it came to athletes. it was helpful especially when a team has to play beyond their season for tournaments or championships. about ten minutes before the opening act got on stage, silena rushed into the tent.

“guys, please you need to come with me. i need your help,” she said frantically. she was nervously tugging on her ‘staff’ badge around her neck, already halfway out of the tent as she waited for the three of you to follow her. “please, it’s an emergency.” 

“woah, lena, what’s going on?” you asked, getting up to comfort her. you followed her through the crowd, grabbing clarisse’s hand to keep her close. 

silena shook her head, continuing her march through the sea of people, “just come with me, i’ll explain when we get backstage.” 

you and clarisse looked at each other, feeling bad for silena. she put in her blood, sweat, and tears into this concert and you knew that she would beat herself up over it if something went wrong. silena always put her all into the projects she’s passionate about, but sometimes things outside of her control happen and unfortunately, she blames herself for it. 

in the whirlwind of ‘excuse me’s’ and ‘sorry’s’, the four of you managed to make your way backstage. it was chaotic. people were running around everywhere making sure everything was set for the opening act. the girl who was opening the concert was waiting by the wings, her guitar strapped across her chest as she took some deep breaths. the crowd wasn’t full yet, but you knew that if you were in that position, you’d still be sweating buckets. going out there on stage to perform for strangers was nerve-racking. you didn’t know how luke did it. you admired that about him. 

“lena, are you gonna tell us what’s going on?” clarisse questioned, picking up the pace of her steps to match silena. 

silena stopped in front of a door, slowly turning to face you and clarisse. suddenly, her stressed facade faded as she twisted the doorknob, “why don’t you see for yourself?” 

if you weren’t so confused about what was going on, you would’ve seen charlie lift his can up to his lips to hide his smile at how proud he was of his girlfriend for her acting skills. when the door opened, your heart stopped. 

luke was here. 

he stood in the middle of the room beside chris with a nervous smile on his face. he was wearing a black leather jacket on top of a white tank top and black pants. his poisoned mercury chain hung from his neck, shining under the overhead lights. his hands were stuffed in his front pockets, shy and timid, as he waited for your reaction. 

clarisse screamed when it hit her that chris was actually here. she ran to him and nearly tackled him to the floor. chris wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and laughed as she giggled into his neck. the two of them shared a heartfelt reunion before rushing out of the room to get some privacy. the sound of the door shutting behind you made you blink.

luke cleared his throat, right hand scratching the back of his neck, “hey, five star.” 

the nickname brought you back to your senses. you ran to him, engulfing him in a tight hug with an ‘umph.’ at first, luke was tense under your touch, unsure if you’d be happy with his surprise, but quickly, he melted into you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, sighing in content as your familiar scent surrounded him. he felt sparks coursing through his veins as you hugged him tighter and all he could think about was how good it felt to have you in his arms again. his mind was still reeling at your reaction. he didn’t expect you to run to him like this, especially not when it felt like you’d been avoiding his calls over the last few weeks. 

“what are you doing here?” you asked him, pulling away to hold his face in your hands. your eyes twinkled as you raked over his face, still in disbelief that he was actually in front of you. “you’re supposed to be in la.”

luke couldn’t stop the lopsided smile on his face, “well, i lied? we were in nashville recording with your dad and he mentioned that he didn’t schedule a session for us this weekend in case me and chris wanted to take a trip to north carolina, so here we are.” 

you ran your thumbs over his cheekbones, whispering, “here you are.” 

“god, i missed you so much,” he said, voice breaking. “you have no idea how hard it’s been.” 

you gulped, your hold on his face faltering a bit. if luke wasn’t on edge, he wouldn’t have noticed the falter in your step, but he felt the slight hesitation in your actions. your warm touch slowly peeled away from his face and he instantly regretted saying those words. here he goes being clingy again. he removed his hands from your waist, clearing his throat. he sat on the couch, motioning for you to sit beside him. he tried to keep his hands to himself when you left a space between the two of you. 

“i still can’t believe you’re really here,” you said, staring at him. you wanted to lean over and hold him in your arms again, but there was a weird tension in the air that made you feel queasy. “i feel like i’m dreaming right now.” 

“i hope you’re not mad that i’m here,” luke looked down at his lap, flexing his hands. he had to keep his hands busy or else he’d surely reach for yours and he didn’t want to come on too strong. he had to keep his distance. he didn’t want to scare you off any more than he already did. “there was just an opening in the schedule and i-i wanted to see you.” 

“i’m not mad at all.” 

“good, good,” he replied. silence. he forced himself to look up from his lap, twisting his body to face you. he bit his bottom lip, trying to build up the courage to ask his next question. “are we okay?” 

“we’re okay.” 

“okay because i feel like things have been different between us lately,” he pursed his lips, looking at you with sad eyes. his tongue poked out the corner of his lips, eyes darting between you and the wall behind you. “i don’t know. i feel like we haven’t talked in ages, y’know? and i know you’re busy and you have a great life here that i’m not really a part of, but uh, i wanna be, y’know? i don’t know much about school or field hockey, but it’s important to you and you’re important to me so i wanna hear about it.” 

he was met with more silence. luke continued, “maybe i’m asking for too much when i ask you to let me be a part of this life, but uh, i miss you? and i just feel like i’m losing you and that’s the last thing i want. so you gotta give me something, five star. tell me what i can do to be better.” 

“if you need me to back off, i’ll do it, you know? you call the shots. you tell me what you need from me, and i’ll do it, okay? i just– i can’t lose this. i don’t wanna lose you,” luke mumbled. “maybe this is all in my head too. i don’t know anymore.” 

you shuddered, lip quivering, “i feel like i’m holding you back.” 

“what?” 

“come on, luke,” you flicked away the tear that trickled down your cheek, “you’re out there in the world doing what you love. meeting new people. living your life and i don’t want to hold you back from that. we met each other when i didn’t have all these responsibilities and who i was at camp is not who i am here and i know you love those impromptu adventures and trips and spontaneity. a-and i can’t give that to you.” 

“you deserve someone who can live this life with you and i’m stuck here for two more years, luke. i can’t do that,” it was getting hard to breathe. your throat felt like it was closing up, cutting off your airflow. you’d been putting off this conversation for weeks. it didn’t feel right to talk about this over the phone, and you thought that you had a few more weeks to figure out what to say to him when you saw him for winter break, but he was here now. “you deserve more than facetime calls and text messages, and that’s all i can offer.” 

“is this–” he paused, licking his lips. “is this not what you want anymore?” 

“what?” 

“this, us? is this just not what you want anymore?” 

an involuntary laugh escaped you as you wiped under your eye, “castellan, i don’t think i could stop wanting you even if i wanted to. and you know when we first met, i really wanted to.” 

luke moved closer to you, just an inch or two, trying to gauge your reaction. you didn’t move away, which he took as a good sign, “i’m confused. why do you sound like you want to end this then?” 

“i don’t want you to settle for this,” you sighed, “i know what you deserve and it isn’t this.” 

“bullshit.” 

you furrowed your eyebrows, looking at him in disbelief, “what?” 

“i’m sorry, five star, but that’s bullshit,” a small smile was tugging on his lips. he reached over to place a hand over yours. his fingers traced your knuckles, running the pads of his fingers across the familiar ridges of your skin. “i don’t understand how after all this time you still don’t realize that all i want is you. it’s ridiculous, really.” 

“it’s ridiculous?” 

“it’s ridiculous,” he chuckled wetly. his other hand rubbed at his eyes, clearing his foggy vision. “our situation isn’t ideal, i know that, but i’d take long distance with you over anything else with anyone else. don’t you get it, five star? you’re it for me. if this isn’t what you want anymore, i’ll accept that. but if you’re only doing this because you don’t think i want this… five star, i want it all with you. long distance. phone calls. text messages. weekend trips when we can get them. distance has nothing on how i feel about you.” 

leave it to luke castellan to make you blush. you shyly looked at him, eyes twinkling with something more than either of you bargained for when you first met in that secret spot you call yours, “how do you feel about me?” 

“i’m not gonna say it right now because i don’t want to have the first time be while we’re in a fight,” luke laughed. the air was starting to clear. “but i have a feeling you know.” 

“i know,” you squeezed his hand three times, “i do too.” 

“will you put me out of my misery and kiss me please?” 

“always so fucking dramatic,” you scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes, but you leaned over and pressed your lips to his.

[coyote-with-a-keyboard]

birthday suprise!

a/n: I don’t write for price much- but yknow- it’s for my MOOTS BIRTHDAY! HI ALEC! @rodolfoparras this is super late

Minors; don’t interact -FtmPrice in more feminine clothing warning❓

Price, being the meticulous man he always was, had your birthday saved in his mind for months with plans and plans galor, of how he’d spend a whole the whole day treating you to everything from breakfast to dinner- of course not planning to waste a single second away from you

sadly, his job had other plans and he had been deployed the week of without a single warning. He was livid, and apologized more times than he could count when he left, but he still felt guilt bubble up in his gut when he thought of how he had left you. He tried to wrap up the mission as fast as he could- antsy and tired and covered in blood and sweat for most of the week..

he finally arrived home, the very few hours of your birthday fading into the night as he sighed and rested his head in his hands on the plane back. 10, it was 10 at night when he got back to your shared home… he felt utterly horrid- he showered, tossed off his uniform, and laid on the bed with a deep groan, the mattress shifting under his movement which caused you to wake up groggily, soft kisses peppering your jaw and neck, his mutton hips tickling your neck

“.. ‘m sorry, really sorry.” Price mumbled sleepily as he curled up and fell asleep wrapped up right next to you

you woke up to what might be the best morning on this earth, price straddled on your lap, in a pretty lingerie you don’t remember buying in the past- pink and flush against his skin with very little hidden. He kissed you softly, whining and wanting to make you feel as loved as you could. He scooted down a bit, his eyes looking directly up to you as he undid your belt and kissed your tip with a sharp smile ghosting over his lips before he slowly- painfully slowly stretched his lips around your cock and hollowed out his cheeks until his nose was against your pubes. His throat was tightening around you and his lashes got wet with little tears

he looked perfect. Utterly perfect. Whining and holding your hips as he licked up the underside of your member before sliding back down to choke on you, sticky lines of spit and pre sliding out of the corners of his mouth and getting stuck in his muttonchops. He just wanted to make you feel good. He could feel your hands gripping into his hair and bucking up into his throat, and it was an addicting kind of feeling- the slight lack of air and the look on your face making his brain go fuzzy and warm, in all honesty he viewed this just as much a gift to himself as it was a gift to you. He rutted against the bed slightly, his lingerie slick and sticking against him from sweat and his own arousal

all the sensations of pain and pleasure mixing around in his brain and making his nerves jump and electrify, he felt you cumming in his throat, a taste that he swallowed happily, and whined a bit under his breath as he felt you pull away, looking at you with a blissfully mind fucked look, his eyes half shut. He jumped a bit when he felt you tug aside the bottoms of his lingerie, the sensation of two of your fingers sliding into him giving him little time to grasp the sheets for purpose. He bit his lip to hold in some utterly pathetic whines, trying not to squirm while your calloused fingertips curled just right inside of him and your lips met his T-dick, your free hand holding his big burly thighs open to stop him from crushing you head by accident.

his body tensed and his eyes rolled back in his skull as you did your best to please him too, hand moving from his thighs to his hips and up to run through the hair coating over his chest and tattoo covered scars below his pecs, humming all the while. He came quite quick, scooting away from overstimulation and muddled aftershock, letting your head rest on his stomach as his hands ran through your hair.

his late birthday gift to you in all honesty felt more like a gift to himself, but you clearly enjoyed it just as much as he did

[slasherstories123]

Can you do Michael,Jason,art, pennywise where there child get the bite of 83 f(from fnad) :D

Slashers reaction to their child being part of the bite of 83

Paring: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Art the Clown, and Pennywise the dancing clown x child! Reader

Tags list: @dootys @callmemeelah @mehidktbh @beanbagbitch @mrs-heelshire @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @charliedawn @emychan @slasherscrybaby @the-anxious-youth @callsignwidow @endomishy

A/N: as a fnaf fan I had fun writing this one 😭💗

Michael Myers

He should’ve never left you alone. He went to get you a plush toy since you desperately wanted it to go with your collection of the other small stuffed animals. He had his mask off so he wouldn’t just be seen as a scary person or the fact that people would recognize him too quickly.The loud crunch of your head being crushed filled his ears, making him snap his head in the direction where four other teenagers had on their own animal masks. Staring up at what they did to you, in complete shock. Your body laid limp in the animatronics mouth with blood splattering over the metal and on your clothes. Michael shoved the teenagers harshly to where they fell to the ground with loud sounds or even fell against the chairs as their impact. Michael held one with a red fox mask, ripping it off his face.

His cold eyes stared at the teenager and the teenage boy tried to make Michael let him go, he apologized repeatedly with more cries, not being able to handle his gaze and begged to be put down. Michael had a death grip on his shirt before slamming him head first into a corner of the table. Some of them screamed and scattered away. Michale then grabbed one of the teenagers in a yellow chicken mask. His grip was firm and it broke her arm with a loud crack, making her scream and he shoved her into the ground too, the other two with the bunny and bear mask screamed for help, when he was at a far distance they took their friends away from him. Michael didn’t care, the yellow bunny kept moving while the bear stood in a glitch, Michael nearly ripped its mouth off trying to get you down, holding your bloody head against his chest. Your face was too bloody to show him any form of life.. but you were still breathing..slowly. His grip on your body got tighter, his veins showed on his hands, they trembled.

Michael’s fingers clenched onto your clothes, he breathed heavily, looking around for some sort of help, no one was there to help. The teenagers were lucky Michael didn’t kill him..or any of his friends for the matter. He left without a trace…hoping he could get the help you needed, hoping you didn’t take your final breath in his arms.

Jason Voorhees

All four teenagers stood frozen when the animatronic bit down on your head, your screams cut out with a loud crunch. Jason heard the crunch. He dropped the plate of pizza he had got for you, taking slow steps before he speed walked to the teenagers who did it. His blue eyes through the mask held a deadly glare that scent chills down their spine. His eyes flickered to every last one of them, seeing who was the guiltiest which gave him the indication that they came up with the plan. The boy with the red fox mask looked the most guilty, even trembling under Jason’s gaze.

Jason’s strong, large hand wrapped around his neck, immediately cutting off his access to breathe. His breathing was heavy the more he squeezed, his friends tried to pry Jason off, but it made him shove them hard. He was never the one to hurt kids, but they hurt you. And he was livid. The boy kicked and tried to cry but with every sound that came out made him loose more air, Jason’s hand trembled, dropping him and he fell to his knees to painfully gasp for air. Jason rushed over to you. Ripping off the upper jaw of the bear animatronic to get you down with trembling arms.

His cold hands pressed against your pressure points for any sign of life. He didn’t feel anything, he didn’t even see your chest rise and fall. Jason held you close to his chest. He watched his mother get murdered, and now..he saw you get murdered. He couldn’t believe it, he wished he was there sooner. He already lost his mother. Now he has to come to the terms that he lost you too.

Art the clown

The clown’s mouth was left agape at the sight of your bloodied body hanging from the animatronics mouth. His eves kept flickering from the children and to you. His kith then turned into a frown. A deep frown. His eyebrows furred together in a pit of rage but out in a fake smile to try and get the teenagers attention.

He snapped his fingers and they all looked at him. Terrified, shocked, and confused. All three of their emotions were displayed their eyes through the animal masks, Art’s eye twitched as he held up a finger as telling them to watch. He heard one of them step back before the rest followed the others motions, he pulled out a gun. A fire gun. Holding it out as if it was a trophy. The teenagers screamed once he pulled the trigger to let out heavy fire, aiming it in their direction. Every last one of them screamed in agony from the fire. He kept going. He didn’t stop until every last thing was on fire. One of the tanagers cried and tried to crawl away from the fire.

The corners of his mouth turned into a smile. Grabbing gasoline from his trusty trash bag and poured it all over them, they screamed louder and the fire got brighter. Throwing the small gasoline box away. Tilting his head up to you, he opened the bears mouth to drop you in his arms. Your weak arm shakily held onto his costume, your breathing was slow and he took you out to leave the place ablaze along with more screams.

Pennywise the dancing clown

The smell of blood filled Pennywise’s nose. Even in his human form he could smell it. Looking around to try and find the culprit of the smell until he took a second to actually smell it. It was your blood. The scent of you filled his nose. His eyes flashed yellow at the sight of the four teenagers. Their fear smelled intoxicating. Every last one of them trembled at Pennywise’s gaze even as he began to shapeshift into his clown form, they screamed louder. Two of them tired to escape but every last door was closed shut.

They didn’t deserve the deadlights. They deserved death. His jaw opened wide as his he lunged towards one of them, ripping their arm off with one bite. Every last one of them, he attacked, ripping them apart and biting into their flesh with loud roars and their screamed mixed with his growls. With one last bite from the last one standing, he dropped them all with his tongue licking the blood off his lips. Glaring at all of their now dead bodies, the walls splattered with their blood covering the walls, almost like a scene out of a horror movie.

Finally, he went to your body that didn’t have a pulse, he growled again and used his teeth to rip the upper jaw of the animatronic off. Sulking slightly at the sight of you dead. Holding you close to his chest, having a hand on your bloody head. You might be dead.. but he’ll cherish your soul.

Forever.

[teaboot]

I spent a lot of time alone outdoors growing up.

A lot of time.

It got to the point that some days I'd be sitting in the back of my dull beige classroom, and on the outside I'd be staring out into nothing but on the inside I'd be remembering how it felt being barefoot and knee-deep in sun-warmed mud, cutting my palms and soles to bits against craggy rock, leaning into the wind and screaming into the ocean, sprinting through the woods and standing dead silent in the dark in a wheat field in a thunderstorm, and feeling grit under my nails and bone and wood and rock and metal in my hands

And I'd look around at my stupid, flimsy pressboard desk, and the beige walls, and the grey ceiling, and feel soft, stagnant air circulate through the vents in delicate, dainty little puffs against my cheeks, and listen to kids my age who I couldn't understand and didn't feel connected to talk about things that made my brain go numb and melt out my ears while some fake-smiley adult pretended they knew how I felt

While back home where my siblings didnt know me and my parents didn't like me the house would be dark, empty, and cold, day after day, and the only satisfaction I knew I'd get would be if someone twice my size and three times my age got in my face and fucking tried it,

And I'd think,

This isn't real.

This is designed, and this is weak.

This is cardboard façades with nothing inside, this is tissue paper, this is Styrofoam packing peanuts and puffed rice wafers and the bottom three millimeters of day-old room-temperature water

And I'd get so fucking angry, so frustrated, just so stone-cold livid, helpless and furious, that sometimes I'd start to cry, not because I was sad but because my teeth were soft and round and dull and my fingers felt like they were brand-new pink pearl erasers splitting in half and everything was too much and not enough and all I needed in the whole wild world was to shred the air to pieces for the crime of being too fucking empty, too fucking soft, not *real* enough, like a wild animal clawing into prey only to have puffy cotton candy and soap bubbles spill out, sweet and tasteless and saccharine where it should be hot, bright, loud and solid and sharp.

So when the English teacher- a tall, thin man with glasses who smelled like strong patchouli and liked to ask us to "talk about our feelings" asked me to write about my life, that was what I wrote.

He told me I had a "powerful gift" and smiled, flashing straight, dull, soft round teeth.

I remember he'd ask me every day if he could read my work aloud to the class, every single day, and every day I would say "no", until one afternoon he just took my paper off my desk and did it anyways.

I was a rule-follower. Never broke the rules, never stepped out of line. I would never just leave class in the middle of a lesson, so I guess for a moment I was someone else.

I don't remember hearing him start to speak, but I remember sprinting out the door, hearing it slam behind me, and just not stopping until I was somewhere outside with the grass and the sky and the sun and a ringing inside my head.

After a while, I went back, and by then I guess he'd finished talking.

I sat down at my desk and finished the lesson.

I thought I'd be in trouble or something after that, but nobody mentioned it.

After the bell, I went home to the dark, cold, empty house and waited for something to fight.

That was years ago. Decades, now.

To tell you the truth, though, I don't think anything has changed.