#also he put his finger between her ass cheeks and everyone acts like butt stuff never happens
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One thing this pirate prince book is making me realize about older historicals compared to newer ones (and I’m talking probably like…. mid 90s to early 2010s, maybe), which I don’t think a lot of people get due to stereotypes surrounding older books, is how casual the intimacy often is and how fun that makes them
I feel, and I do think this is reflective of cultural shifts, that a lot of more recent historicals make it so that every kiss is this intense Moment, and every physical progression is like….. a whole Thing.
Whereas in this Pirate Prince book they’re still kind of in a weird gray area in terms of relationship, but he’s drunk and she’s enjoying teasing him and she’s in his lap just casually touching him and he’s kissing her and it’s like…. Just a part of the book. Just cute intimacy that doesn’t have to be this massively impactful break in a slow burn or whatever
And I think you see something similar in Jennifer Ashley’s MacKenzie books—like, Isabella and Mac do have angst and it is a marriage in trouble book but they’re also horny and very attuned to one another’s likes and so they just trade oral sex sometimes and it doesn’t mean there’s been this break in the emotional dam, they’re just….. really physically attracted to each other
I feel that a lot of historicals at the moment have this very “are we giving Austen or are we giving salacious” confusion that makes every tiny moment So Precious and I’m like no dude just let him grab her ass or something Jesus
#romance novel blogging#this probably applies to many subgenres but sometimes you read a book from 1997#and it’s like wow this is a lot sexier than that ARC i read#also he put his finger between her ass cheeks and everyone acts like butt stuff never happens#in older historicals (probably bc it barely happens today lol)#and even tho it was mild i wanted to give prince lazar his dues#it was her first time getting fingered in general he’s laying the groundwork
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You're much better company, tough girl
fratboy!matt has met his match with smartand'mean'!reader, and he can't get enough of her
vibe check: SMUT, mattthemunch, unprotected cuddle time (I'd tell you to wrap it but i'm not your mother) bigdick!matt, choking, spitting, praise, reader strumming the bean, pet names (angel, tough girl), all that good stuff.
4k words
A/N: This concept was born from and is my take on the wonderful, amazing and ridiculously talented @sturnioz fratboy!matt au, and its also my first fic so, be kind.
love and cigs, merc
The autumn air was cold, and the fishnets on your legs weren’t doing you any favours. you’d snuck out the party to escape the weirdo guy that was basically stalking you since you had arrived. You'd hoped to find your friend, but she was somewhere tangled up with one of the resident frat boys, her shy demeanour acting like catnip to the renowned player Chris Sturniolo. You found yourself outside the front of the house, genuinely considering leaving, but knowing your friend would need company once Chris inevitably got bored of her. From around the corner, you heard a lighter flick and the deep inhale that normally follows, turning and walking down to the side of the house, you saw a shadowy figure being periodically illuminated by the butt of his cigarette.
"What're you doin’ out here?" you questioned, walking over to Matt who was leant against the side of the house, trying to escape the "new age, shit rap music" Chris put on.
Matt held up the cig in his fingers and gave you a short smile, before placing the cigarette between his lips and taking a long drag, his jawline becoming even more prominent as his cheeks hollowed slightly.
"Thought you didn't smoke?" you said, arms folded over your chest as the cold air bit at your nearly bare legs.
"I don't smoke weed, but, I do love my cigs" He held the open box out to you and you pulled one out, placing it between your lips gently. He brandished his silver lighter in front of your face and lit the cigarette, absentmindedly staring at the way the flame illuminated your features.
"Chris is the stoner, kid fuckin' loves it" He said as he flicked the lighter closed and placed it back in his pocket.
"Cigarettes still contain drugs, y'know that right?" You smirked, taking a drag and letting the smoke come out with every word.
"Yes, smart-ass I know that" He quipped back, "everyone needs a vice, you know?"
You giggled slightly as his philosophy, "a vice? you need something to help you escape the plaguing reality of being a frat bro?”, smiling as you placed the cig between your teeth and took another drag.
“Ugh, don't call me that" he responded, spitting the foul taste out of his mouth onto the floor, "besides..." He paused to take a drag, "If I was a frat bro, which I'm not, I could have a plaguing sense of reality, frat boys have feelings too you know, kid" he smiled, his perfect teeth almost reflecting the light from the street lamps.
“oh, do tell, what plagues the infamous Matthew Sturniolo" you grinned at him, rolling your eyes in faux sympathy.
"Infamous? ouch.” He held his hand to his chest, pretending to be offended.
Pausing for a moment, he looked at you and then to the floor, shuffling where he leant slightly and shrugging his shoulders, "I dunno, l've always got somthin' going on up there" He gestured to his temple with the cig in his fingers.
“But, 'nough about me, what're you doin' out here?" he asked, desperately trying to change the topic from himself, pointing his cigarette at you in an accusatory
"Came lookin’ for you" you said, blowing the smoke from your pursed lips.
His eyebrows raised at your confession, "Me?" He questioned.
"mhm" You nodded, taking another drag.
“Why?” his brows furrowed as smoke bellowed out his open mouth.
“I didn’t actually, jus' thought you’d like the flattery” You chuckled, ashing your cigarette.
“wow, okay, how tough are you?” He smirked, standing up from his leant position and throwing his cigarette to the floor, just before stamping it out.
“Me? tough? never.” You said sarcastically, placing your cigarette back in your mouth.
Matt came forward slightly and pulled the tiny stick from your lips, placing it between his own and taking a drag whilst maintaining a firm stare. You watched him intently, your big eyes burning holes into his as he placed the cigarette back into your mouth.
“You didn’t answer my question, kid” he said, his tone faltering as he blew the smoke from his mouth.
a long huff left your mouth as you rolled your eyes, “I needed to escape this guy, he was fuckin’ relentless and I was not into it”.
Matt paused for a moment, still baring down into you, “yeah?” half of his teeth coming onto display as a smirk encapsulated his face, “what are you into?” he asked, tilting his head to the side slightly so he was even closer to you, his breath nearly touching the cold apples of your cheeks.
As he was speaking you took a long drag, and in response to his clear attempt to rile you up, you blew the smoke into his face with pursed lips and a smile. Matt blinked slowly with raised brows at your bravery, letting the wind carry the smoke from his face.
“What do you think i’m into, Matthew?” you asked, matching his earlier cadence.
“I think, you act all tough, but really, you want someone to tell you to sit down, shut up, and to take it like the pretty, pretty girl you are” he said, so non-challant you’d think he was explaining that the sky is blue.
Your breath hitched in your chest, and your eyes fluttered slightly, not quite fully closing.
A cheshire cat smile formed on Matts face, he knew exactly what type of girl you were from the moment he laid eyes on you on the first day of the semester.
“You think I’m pretty?” you asked in a condescending tone, pulling your confidence back, trying to ignore the growing sensation in your stomach.
Matt simply nodded in response, tucking a messy strand of hair behind your ear and letting his fingers trail down past your neck and over your bare arms. At some point during your back and forth, Matt had edged his face impossibly close to yours, he hooked a finger under your chin and pulled your head up to face him,
“I think you’re beautiful, tough girl” he whispered, almost into your mouth as it parted with his words.
With that, you threw your cigarette to the floor and thrust your lips into his, the force pushing him backwards to into the wall he was leant on only moments ago. His hands found your waist, pulling you in tight against him as yours pulled and tugged at the loose brown curls on the back of his head. The kiss was feverish, animalistic and messy, you were positioned snug between his legs as one of his hands found its way to the covered flesh of your ass, he squeezed it with a low growl and slapped it quickly after, rubbing the sting away with a soft hand. The sensation caused you to whimper into his mouth, jolting against him as his hand smacked your ass. He chuckled into the kiss, his hands roaming all the way up your back and into your hair. He pulled you off him with a firm hand wrapped around the back of your neck.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you make noises like that” he dipped his head down, capturing your neck in his teeth and soothing the sting with a flat, warm tongue.
“Matt” you whispered, your head hanging on your shoulders, resting in Matts large palm. “What’s up, angel?” he murmured from the curve where your neck and shoulders meet.
“I’m not—shit— I’m not gonna fuck you round the side of your house” You manage to get out, slightly distracted by the sensation of Matt nipping at sucking at your neck.
“Let’s go inside then” You even mentioning fucking him was enough permission to take your hand and drag you inside.
The music boomed against your skull as he pulled you through the party with your hand in his, both of you ignoring everyone that tried to spark up some kind of drunken conversation. He led you up the large staircase in the centre of the main room, his focus on your destination only faltering to glance at Chris who, had your best friend tucked under his arm on the sofa, the pair exchanged a knowing look and Chris shot Matt a wink, quickly returning his attentions to the shy girl perched next to him. As you and Matt reached the top of the staircase, he turned, pulling you into him for the second time that night for a desperate kiss. This time, he leant down, taking the backs of your thighs in his hands with a tap that you knew meant ‘jump’. You obliged and within moments, you were being thrust into his dimly lit bedroom. He kicked the door closed with his foot, never breaking the kiss, and walked the two of you over to his bed, placing you down somewhat gently onto the brown satin sheets.
“You’re so pretty, y’know that?” he said breathlessly, breaking the kiss to tear off his red sweatshirt.
“I think you mentioned it once or twice” You replied, desperately clawing at the back of his neck to pull him back into you, your legs loose around his waist.
“Such a smart-ass” he groaned, his hand suddenly gripping your throat as he pushed you back down onto his sheets, squeezing the sides of your neck.
You moaned at the sensation, brows furrowing as your hips involuntarily bucked upwards. Matt chucked at your responsiveness, his hand trailing down your chest to toy with the hem of your top.
“Can I take this off?” He asked, softly.
“mhm” you nodded, desperately.
“Words, angel, I need words” he halted his movements, his voice stern.
“Yes, Matt, take it off, please” The pleading in your tone evident, despite your attempt to be moody.
“Begging already? I knew I’d like you” with that he pulled your top over your head and left you exposed in your lacy black bra, your hard nipples perking through the sheer fabric.
“Fuck” Matt uttered under his breath, his large hands roaming around your nearly bare torso.
He couldn’t help himself, he leant down, pulling the thin fabric from your tit and wrapped his mouth around your hardened nipple, grinding down onto your core as he did, chasing the friction. Your head rolled back at the feeling, and as if on instinct, your hips rolled against his. Matt trailed his kisses down your stomach, each one igniting a hot fire all over your skin. He hooked his fingers round the hem of your skirt, still trailing hot, wet kisses down your heaving torso. He looked up at you, being met with your pleading eyes staring down at him.
“Can I?” he tugged slightly at your skirt.
“yes, please” you nodded frantically, lifting your hips up to aid him in removing the fabric that separated his mouth from your aching cunt.
“Such a fast learner, such a good girl” he smiled as he pulled your skirt down over your knees, leaving you in nothing but your bra, fishnets and thin black panties.
“Jesus christ” he said as he perched on his knees by the edge of the bed, “these are staying on” he said, caressing your legs with firm hands.
He edged his hands further down towards your core, spreading your thighs apart for him as he lowered himself down, hooking your legs over his shoulders. As his hands reached where you ached for him the most, he pressed firm fingers across your pussy, rubbing upwards and finishing his movement with a short circle of both of his thumbs over your throbbing clit. With one quick motion, he ripped a hole in your fishnets, exposing your dripping cunt to him as your wetness seeped through the thin fabric of your thong. His eyes might as well have sparkled at the sight,
“Look at that, tough girl, you’re all wet over me taking charge” he said, taking a finger and swiping it up the wetness that had collected at the entrance to your pussy.
You whimpered, bucking your hips once again at the stimulation, whining slightly in attempts to coax him into touching you properly.
“I need to taste you, angel, can I?” he asked, like a boy begging to stay up to see Santa on christmas morning.
“Yes, Matt, please, fuckin' hurry up already” you whine, desperate and aching for any sense of relief from this agonising feeling.
He didn’t need any more permission, with a low hum (more like a fucking growl), he pulled your soaked panties to the side with vigour and latched his mouth around your clit. Your back arched off the bed immediately, his tongue sending sweet euphoria up your spine as it toyed with your sensitive bud. The moan that escaped you was pornographic, and it only egged him on further. He slipped his tongue into your entrance, lapping at the juices that seeped from your hole as his thumb found your clit, moving in slow circles over the sensitive bud. He moaned into your pussy, as if he was getting off on eating you out, the vibrations from his groaning only adding to the knot growing in your stomach. Your hands found his hair, tugging at the messy brown curls that covered his beautiful face as he devoured you.
“Fuck, Matt, that feels so fucking good” you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes as he moved once more to suck on your clit.
His fingers swirled and prodded at your slick entrance, your walls nearly sucking him in as they clenched around nothing. He took your incessant moans as invitation to insert two long fingers all the way inside of you, curling up into that perfect gummy spot as he did. Your thighs clenched around his head, tensing and shaking as he brought you to the edge. He raised himself up slightly, pushing your legs apart with his forearms and pinning you down under his weight, his fingers relentlessly curling into you as he sucked and lapped at your clit, desperate to make you come undone all over his mouth. You tugged at his curls once more, earning a deep groan from him that vibrated around your clit and, that feeling, coupled with the warm pressure of his body weight on your thighs and his intense, animalistic eye contact, sent you over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you, your whole body shaking as you moaned his name over and over again, bucking your hips up into his face as he continued his pace, mercilessly lapping at your sopping pussy. You started to tether on the edge of overstimulation just as he pulled his mouth from you, his fingers still pumping in and out of your dripping cunt. You stared down at him with fluttery eyes, your fingers caressing his scalp as he helped you ride out your orgasm with a tender smile and tiny bites down the inside of your thigh.
He pulled his fingers from you and got to his feet, the bed shifted under his weight as he brought himself up to hover over you.
He traced the outline of your plump lips with the tip of his finger, asking for invitation. You obliged and opened your mouth, exposing a flat tongue to him.
“Taste how sweet you are, angel. fuckin’ delicious” He said, placing his fingers on your tongue before edging them down your throat, watching intently as you gagged around them.
He chuckled slightly at your submissiveness, pulling his fingers from your throat and trailing them down your chin. He placed a firm palm on the front of your neck and pulled you into a kiss, his face still wet from your cum. You whimpered into the kiss, frantic hands moving down in between you in attempts to unbutton his jeans. He smiled into the kiss and squeezed the sides of your throat with his fingers, bucking his hips into your hands as they freed him of the confines of the thick denim. He assisted you in pushing his jeans down his legs, not once breaking the kiss as he expertly shuffled them off and kicked them across the room. He crawled back on top of you and pushed you further up the bed, with one hand on the back of your thigh and the other round your neck, he hooked your leg over his waist and began to grind down into your sensitive core, the fabric of his black boxers giving just the right amount of friction between you.
“Matt, I need you inside of me, now.” you whine, the demand sending shivers up Matts spine as he locked eyes with you.
“What’s the magic word, pretty girl” He smirked, you rolled your eyes in response and brought your other leg to hook around his waist, your feet locking him in.
“Please, matt” you reluctantly (you loved it) begged.
“So good for me, angel” he smiled as your hands snaked their way into his boxers, palming his hard cock.
Your eyes widened slightly at the size and he noticed, a sense of pride washing over him, “Bigger than you thought it would be?” he smirked.
A wave of nervousness overcame you but you pushed it down, biting your lip and tightening your grip on his throbbing member, “I always knew you’d be huge, the quiet ones always are” you said, pumping him slowly.
He couldn’t help but rut into your hand, his head falling into the curve of your neck as he palmed your tit, pinching at your hard nipple whilst his other hand left bruises on your thigh. Small whispers left his mouth and fell onto your skin, his warm breath only turning you on even more. You pushed his boxers down completely and he kicked them off, looking down at where you were attempting to line him up with your weeping entrance.
“So needy, huh? tough girl? lemme help you angel” He pressed his tip against your folds and aided you in guiding himself into your slick walls.
The feeling of him stretching you out made your back arch off the bed, your hands flying to the sheets for some sort of leverage. He chuckled slightly, slowly thrusting his leaking tip in and out of you, letting you adjust to his size inch by inch as he trailed soft kisses down your jaw and neck, biting every so often only to sooth the sting with his warm tongue.
The feeling was euphoric, he was somehow keeping you between feeling completely satisfied and overstimulated all at once.
“fuck, angel” he drew out, “y'so fuckin’ tight and m'not even half way in— Jesus christ- y'gonna be the death of me” he grunted, capturing your open mouth in a wet and tender kiss, his tongue pressed against yours as he thrusted into you completely, bottoming out.
You both moan at the feeling, your legs tensed around his waist and your arms found home draped over his shoulders, hands tangled in his hair.
He pulled out of you almost entirely, still kissing you mercilessly before thrusting into you again, this time with a lot more force. You moaned into his mouth, tugging at his hair to counter the sting of your pussy, blissfully stretched out around him and aching for him to move faster.
Matt broke the kiss, taking your jaw in his hand and squeezing your mouth open, he gathered a ball of spit in his mouth and lowered it towards yours. You caught it on your tongue and swallowed it with a smile as he watched in awe.
“You’re perfect” he uttered, leaning down to kiss your squished lips before releasing your jaw and earning another smile from you.
With that, he set a relentless pace, fucking you into the bed with each hard thrust. You moaned out his name, pulling him in impossibly close to you with both your grip round his waist and your hands in his hair. His head fell next to yours, hot breath panting in your ear as he moaned and whimpered at the feeling of your slick walls clenching around him.
“Fuck matt, you're so big, stretching me out s’much, oh my fucking god” you trail off, your words bouncing with every merciless thrust.
“Take it angel, fuckin’ take it, I know you can” he panted into your ear, sucking on the lobe.
He slowed his pace but fucked you harder, each thrust inciting a pornographic moan from your lips.
“you sound s'good when you moan, so fuckin’ sexy” he groaned, pounding into you harder just to earn those beautiful whimpers from you.
His tip formed a bulge in your lower stomach, poking out of you over and over again as he hit your g-spot, bringing you closer to the edge for the second time that night. You brought a hand up to his mouth, silently asking for permission to collect some spit from the pad of his tongue, he obliged, biting your fingers slightly before you pulled them from his mouth and placed them down between the two of you, rubbing fast circles over your clit. The stimulation made your walls clench around him, milking his painfully hard cock.
“Fuck, oh my, fuck, keep doing that, pretty girl, keep touching yourself for me” his command comes out in a near whimper.
“Matt, m'gonna— “ before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your thighs shaking around his waist as white hot tingles covered your entire body, you clenched your eyes shut and all you could see was stars as you came all over his dick.
“You’re clenching me so hard right now angel, y'gonna make me cum, look at me pretty girl, please, let me see those pretty eyes” Matt rambled as his high was rapidly approaching, his pace quickening as his movements became sloppy,
“cum inside me, please matt, I need it” you cried out, still reeling in the after shock of your crippling orgasm.
With your pleading, he realised strings of warm cum inside you, coating your walls as he fucked his seed into you, riding out his orgasm, shaking and trying desperately not to buckle completely on top of you.
He thrusted in and out a few more times before reluctantly pulling out, the cold air hitting his softening cock as he fell down next to you, immediately bringing you into his side and pulling at your limbs so you were lazily draped over him.
You laid there, panting in each others arms, both trying to catch your breath as the sound of the party suddenly became more prominent from the other side of his bedroom door. “You” he said, still catching his breath, “are incredible.” He turned his head to look down at you.
“You’re not too bad yourself, Matthew” you smiled, bringing your finger to trace along his pink bottom lip.
He watched as you admired the plump skin for a moment and with a smile, he bit the tip of your finger. You giggled and pulled your hand from his mouth, resting it on his now steady chest.
“Can I see you again?” he asked, captivated by the way your face lights up when you laugh.
“If you actually start coming to classes, you’ll see me all the time” you taunted him.
“Oh, I’m gonna have the best fuckin’ attendance in this whole college” he responded, pulling you fully on top of him.
You squealed at the sudden movement and shifted to straddle his lap. You sat up, looking down at him as he tugged and needed at the flesh around your hips.
“They’re all probably wondering where you are” you said, referring to the hoard of people in his home.
“Fuck ‘em, they’re all losers anyway” he leant up closer to you, a sneaky hand came and wrapped itself around your neck, pulling you desperately close to his face.
“You’re much better company, tough girl” he whispered through a smile before capturing your mouth in a tender yet rough kiss.
#©sturnsdarling#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt x reader#matt sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#matt smut#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#Spotify
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Hi! before i ask this i would just like to say that your writing is amazing and you’re my fave author on this app! ok so anyways this might seem too weird or kinky lmao BuT is there a chance you can make a jungkook smut where he punished you in front of the entire group and like with lots of dirty talk (and degradation because that’s like my number one kink lmao) and it’s just dom jungkook FiLTh ilysm 💖💖 (also crybaby two was AMAZING🥰)
ily anon thank you for supporting my blog ☹️💕
warning: degredation, name calling, forceful stuff so if you're uncomfortable about it, I recommend to ignore this.
~
"jungkook, please--!"
"no, bad girls don't get to talk, do they?" he growls as he grabs your a bunch of your hair, forcing your up on your feet from the bed.
"you come here with me, hm? you think it's funny disrespecting your daddy like that?"
your stomach tingles from his words, getting slightly excited yet scared for your life at the same time. you didn't know where he was taking you to as until he drags you out to the hallway going to the living room.
where the rest of the boys were.
your eyes widen in panic, hands starting to scratch at his arms, trying to stop. "jungkook, no, no! what are you doing?"
jungkook scoffs as he rolls his eyes, not answering your pathetic pleads. the boys was giving him a weird look, some mumbling questions to each other as they watch you.
jungkook gives them a devilish smirk and a wink.
your boyfriend suddenly sits down on the space between jimin and namjoon, and he forcefully tugs you down with him. you squeal when he bends you over his lap, your knees hitting the floor while your hands grasped his thigh.
"jungkook! what the fuck!" you whimpered, wiggling your legs as you tried to escape.
without any warning at all, he pulls your leggings down until your bare ass was out for everyone to see, and he lands a hard, sharp spank on your cheek.
"that's not my name now, is it? baby girl?"
you whined, feeling so embarrassed as you heard the boys mutter curse words as their eyes were all on you. they were confused, yet slightly turned on from the sight.
"holy fucking shit, jungkook. what the fuck are you doing?" jimin asked him in a quiet mutter, watching how your face redden.
you glimpsed up at jimin with big eyes, making him gulp. he immediately looks away.
"oh, well, this little slut here needs to be punished. she's been a brat all day, and she needs to be fucking tortured."
jungkook spanks your ass again, making you mewl. you can hear him growl beneath his breath as he strokes your red ass.
"mhm, do you like this? huh?" spank. "letting me spank you in front of all of them?" spank.
"d-daddy, I'm sorry," you whisper, lowering your head to avoid them looking at you.
the boys were biting their lips, some of them slowly getting turned on from. namjoon, who was just beside jungkook can see your butt in full view, and he couldn't keep his eyes off of it. it was so shameful. you can feel all eyes on your body, and all you wanted to do was hide.
jungkook spanks your ass again, this time harder than the rest. he grunts, wrapping a hand around your throat and forcing your head up. "look at them, slut."
you obeyed jungkook, scanning around the room as you locked eyes with the boys. their looks were firm, their jaw clenched with strict eyes. it was too much for you, you felt so exposed.
spank. "you don't like it, do you? spank.
"mhnng, daddy, please. I'm sorry," you cried.
"damn, kook, maybe let her go already?" Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head.
"nah, hyung." spank. "you don't know how fucking bratty she is, acts like she's the one in control." spank.
jungkook leads down to your ear, squeezing your neck harder. "this little slut needs to be put back to her place."
he harshly squeezes your butt with his big hand, drawing out a moan out of you. you kept your eyes closed, not wanting to look at anyone at all.
"aw, look at my little baby." he coos, tugging your leggings off of your legs completely. "daddy," you mewled, "n-no."
you can hear the boys release a puff of breath, some squirming in their seat as they saw how wet you were. they couldn't keep their eyes off of you.
his hand suddenly cups your pussy, smirking as he feels your drenched underwear. "hm, baby, what a fucking slut." he gives your pussy a firm, good spank, making your whole body jolt forward.
"daddy!"
"m'gonna fuck this cute little pussy with my fingers, baby, until you beg for me to stop. do you want the others to see how fucking slutty you are, hm? do you want them to jerk off to you?"
the boys chuckle from Jungkook's words, rolling their eyes, but he knew that they were all loving the show.
he spanks your cunt again, "I didn't hear you, slut."
you tried to think of the right words to say, but nothing came out. you took a deep, shaky breath, closing your eyes. "d-do whatever you want to me, daddy."
jungkook smiles in approval, "there we go, baby. you're finally realizing where you belong, huh? beneath me, under daddy's touch. I do whatever I want to you, baby, and you don't get to do anything besides to beg and plead, okay?"
you nod your head, eyes forming tears. "yes daddy."
"good. now let the boys see how much of a fucking slut you are for daddy."
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LOVE LOVE LOVE your micah x readers. Maybe do one where reader has feelings for micah--possibly upset about it cause hes just a dick to everyone including the reader--and he catches the reader touching herself while calling his name and he has to punish her for it.... I am such a Micah Hoe.... love the kinks (choking, hand spanking, hair pulling, and biting--sometimes to bleed--and love the "good girl" stuff) 🤤🤤🤤🤤 sorry for I have sinned
Hi, anon! I’m so happy to receive an ask right now! yaay~
And thank you so much for your compliment, I’m just a humble bitch trying to write something nice.
I hope this small smut meets your expectations
Title: Swamp Nights
Words: 1.6k
Pairings: Micah Bell x f!reader
Warnings: (+18)
It was a hot sultry night on Shady Belle, the air so thick and warm that your skin felt sticky. You’ve been trying to hide away from the others to try and relax since it had been a terrible day. Maybe it was because of the moon that was turning full or maybe a general coincidence, but Micah had been particularly nasty that day. He didn’t show you any mercy, provoking you from time to time - and he perfectly knew how to press all the right buttons.
It seemed as if he felt a dark satisfaction in making you angry, trying to extract the worst from you.
“You could wash my clothes today, MC, they’re just a bit dirty” - he would say while dumping rags and shirts with his dry cum on them - “That’s what you do right? Wash it clean. Maybe you’ll get an idea of how a man should smell”.
And you couldn’t control yourself.
“Why don’t you wash it with your tongue, you bastard! Lick it and shove it up your ass!” - you screamed near the river, getting on your feet as quickly as your temper made you to.
Micah would laugh.
“Getting bothered, doll? Don’t worry, there’s more where that came from” - his crooked smile made your blood boil under your skin - “If you is good, I may even give you some…If you deserve it”.
You hated the way he touched his pelvis as he said that, as an invitation.
“You’re fuckin’ disgusting! A worm! Not even your mother you take you back into her womb!”
“Is that a compliment?” - he never seemed offended, but rather enjoying your rage, like he was always preparing the final act for later. Micah’s smile reminded you of a crocodile, all teeth and no true laugh, cynical, the way he waited for the proper time to take you down.
Now alone in the dark, you felt that rage traveling throughout your body, burning you slowly, but never completely fading. But, if you hated his guts, you hated yourself more. He was the last of the men, and yet, when you thought of him, you couldn’t help to feel wet. So wet, almost as if you peed yourself.
You had kept one of his shirts for that night. A red one. His scent was heavy on the fabric, filling your nostrils with his bittersweet smell. Your hand traveled inside your pants, your fingers easily finding the source of your desperation - secret cave, empty dwelling in feverish heat, in wanting of something to fill your desire.
With the other hand, you kept his shirt against your face as you played with your soft skin. Two or three fingers, it wasn’t enough, even if you stretched the small space, it felt as if you were trying to put out a fire with a cup of water.
“Micah… you son of a bitch… I hate you so much…” - you said and kept saying between whimpers and moans.
You hated him so much that the feeling of your fingernails ripping against his face was a regular daydream, but when the night fell and your body went warm and lonely, you wanted a different thing from him.
It was true, he made you feel bothered. You never had laid with him for obvious reasons ( in fact, with none of the men on camp, you weren’t some type of rent-whore), but you couldn’t let go of the idea of actually go through with his proposal.
What were you? Some kind of moron?
You closed your eyes and pushed your fingers even deeper into your insides. Oh, yes you were the biggest stupid out there, and you needed him so bad it made you feel ashamed.
“I thought I heard my name…” - you heard.
Suddenly your eyes were wide open, you hid your hands behind your back as quick as you could. You were far away from camp that night, meters into the swamps, and the lights of the house were but a ghost lingering in the night, but even so Micah Bell had found you.
He must had been waiting for this chance.
“Don’t mind me, sugar, you keep doing whatchu doin’” - he said, and his voice was heavy with a dark tone, even if he tried to play it as casual.
You were so surprised - almost scared - that you couldn’t say anything. Shame and fear crossed your eyes, as you looked for a place to hide.
“I know that look… you look like an animal that wants to escape from me… - he breathed deeply the night air, making noise - “And you have my favorite shirt on top of that. Didn’t anyone teach you that stealing is wrong, little girl?”
He was satisfied like a reptile. All teeth, no smile.
“I can’t let that pass… Or else you could go on robbin’ other folks too, and we don’t want that, do we? You is lucky that was I who found out your little crime… and your little pleasure”.
“No, Micah, go away” - you suddenly found your voice as you stood up to your feet.
“I simply can’t, doll - he said, coming into your direction, you were frozen in place - “someone has to punish you good so you won’t forget who owns you…” - he said, and his hand grabbed between your legs with resolution, pressing you with violence - “Bad girls have to be punished”.
You felt all your strength fade with a moan, your legs went numb and all you could think of was his cock inside of you, thrusting against your womb. You didn’t know what hurt the most, his hand or the desire within yourself.
He pushed you against a tree and demanded your pants on your knees. You were so ready to have him that your cunt ached like thorns were already inside of you. Your mouth was closed in a hard line, but your eyes were humid, melted in pledge.
“I hate you… I hate you Micah…” - you said again, trying to regain some control.
His hand now discovering your secrets with rough fingers.
“I can feel how you hate me, right here…” - he said, pressing your clit.
You moaned - it was a cry of pleasure and pain. You didn’t want to wait anymore, but oh! how sweet it was the waiting, nonetheless. A neverending type of madness crossing your body and mind.
“Tell me, how should I educate little girls that don’t do what they is told?” - he rubbed you hard and intensely. His eyes never leaving your face.
You tilted your head back against the tree.
“Fuck me…” - you whispered.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you” - he said - “Good. Now, say it again”.
“Fuck me.” - you said, frustration painting your words.
“And…? Ask me nicely and I might do it for you, or else… I’ll have to find another way to punish you”.
“Fuck me, please Micah!” - you said, as he slipped his fingers inside of you, exploring each wet corner.
“Then I’ll make you my cum-whore. I’ll stuff you with cum and piss, and you will thank me every time”.
For a moment you too were silent, his blue eyes locked into yours, you could smell whiskey on his breath, and also feel how his band abandoned your cunt and turned you facing the tree.
“Fuck me now!” - you squirm opening your legs like a whore on a heat, everything to make his entrance easier, deeper, please, cum in me, fill me with it until I can’t take it anymore.
He opened his trousers, and his dick was already hard as you felt it against your butt. Painfully throbbing in the night air.
Micah grabbed you by your hair and in a single thrust he was inside of you. All of him at once.
“So tight MC… If I didn’t know better, I would say you is still a virgin” - he said as he stretched you to him.
You felt as he pushed against your core, and your cunt ached as if it was a raw wound. He kept moving his hips deeply inside of you, violently shaking your body as you held onto the tree. The harder he was, the louder were your moans.
He kept holding onto your hair, pulling your head back until you could see only the sky hidden behind tree branches.
“You was all high and mighty, no man could lay a finger on you, wasn’t it?”- Micah said with a sadistic pleasure - “Well, now you ain’t nothing but my cum-whore, and you’ll take any shit I give you”.
And he pounded against you with anger and lust. You could hear his breathing against your ear, and how good it felt when he bit you on your shoulder. Ravenous pain, tears and cries. He had rendered you his completely. All flesh to his pleasure, to his anger.
You felt your legs shaking uncontrollably, and for a moment all went blank as you felt a strange liquid running down your legs. You had pissed yourself? It never happened before.
“Ugh, you’re so disgusting, pissing on me like that… I think you’s even hotter now” - he said, between surprise and satisfaction.
And he found a way to fuck you harder, hitting your butt cheeks as you moved for him, much like a slave with no control of its own. You were no longer “you”. You were his desire, his cum-whole, and his alone.
You could feel his cum filling you by this point, warm and thick. He moved a little longer to be sure you took all he had that time, no wasting his seed.
He left you there. Naked and shaking, dripping cum and sweat.
You were angrier than ever.
—-
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Traitors of Olympus IV: Fall of the Sun
Fifty: Kalypso
Satyr Butts and Catching Up
Kally was happy they waited until she was awake to fill in the group about what happened. Frank wanted to wait until everyone was up, but Axel and Calex did a convincing job dissuading him from waking Euna.
Clovis had gently beckoned Kally out of her surprisingly peaceful dreams and Chris Rodriguez and Matthias Severe Hanson very ungently pulled Pax from inside his nest. Hazel was even generous enough to give Alabaster a white board and some dry erase markers.
Kally feared the first thing he’d write was, My helm or your first born child.[1] Considering the ingredients he kept for his spells, she wasn’t sure what he’d want if she’d lost something of his that was so important.
All of their possessions were gone when Kally woke up: her notebook, messenger bag, and his Cloven Terror helm. Even her clothing was gone. Instead, she woke up with an IV drip in her hand, a surgical smock, and pain with each breath. She had barely been able to pick up her glasses from the pillow beside her.
It was creepy to think someone had changed them. The only people Kally knew well at camp had also been unconscious. For the time being, Kally would just pretend that was one of Will’s powers: magically poofing people into surgical-friendly clothing.
The only person in the room who was allowed to keep their weapon—and Kally guessed “allowed’ was a strong word—was Euna.
Instead of asking about his missing things, Alabaster scribbled down, Why? and pointed to the balloon beside his sleeping bag. It depicted a satyr on one side and the satyr’s ass on the other with a note that said, “Poke me; I sing!” There were also streamers strewn off his IV stand.
“Apparently this is how a certain child of Hermes decided to thank you for saving his brother,” Dr. Claymore said. He never looked up from the book he was reading, though the smile that he cracked said he’d watch the Stoll set up everything while Alabaster slept.
Alabaster’s fingers flashed over the board to write, Ajax. No.
Pax, meanwhile, pouted.
Axel sighed. “His arms are too messed up to throw anything at it. Trust me. He tried.”
Frank and Reyna sat in foldout chairs they’d managed to stuff into the room, moving Lapis’ closer to the weird bird cage in the corner. Hazel stood ready by the door like the most unassuming of guards. None of them wore armor, just SPQR sweatshirts and workout pants. Hazel’s fingers tensed around her spatha’s hilt. Reyna twirled her knife into the edge of her seat. A sword hung at both her and Frank’s sides. Every time Euna mumbled in her mossy cocoon, they would startle and go for their weapons.
While nibbling on some microwave breakfast sandwiches, Reyna got them up to speed.
“Apparently, after Prometheus brought Axel and Pax back here, he contacted Helios—”
Kally felt her jaw drop along with a piece of egg. “Wait—that creepy, former sun god that used to work with Hemera?”
Kally remembered Helios and Eos, the Goddess of Dawn, dream-messaging her to say that Hemera had been taken.
“Creepy is a forgiving choice of word,” Reyna said, looking utterly unamused.
Frank coughed off to the side. “Reyna may have brought Helios up to speed on the last few decades of equality on gender treatment.”
“With her fist,” Hazel said with a giggle. Whatever transpired must have been intense. Hazel was fanning herself.
Axel smiled, looking impressed. Although Merry and Calex had informed Kally about his flirt-session with a cat goddess, Kally had a feeling no one could distract Axel from this praetor.
Reyna cleared her throat and continued, “Prometheus contacted Helios—”
“And said there might be an open job listing for Sun Chariot Driver,” Pax filled in, bouncing on his haunches.
Apparently, before Kally woke up, Pax had been refusing treatment. She forced him to take some ambrosia with a Reese’s Stick. Now, she was wondering if the extra sugar before real food was a bad idea. Though, with the barely convincing smile on his face, she wondered if Pax was acting as peppy as possible to distract everyone from how he actually felt.
Reyna nodded, looking a lot less like she wanted to strangle Pax than Kally would expect. “If Nyx wanted Hemera to come back alive, Eris told Nyx that she had to wrap Apollo in the Golden Net and keep him there, but didn’t mention anything about the chariot. When Nyx’s old business associate showed up to borrow the Sun Chariot, she didn’t try to stop him.”
“How did Helios know where to find them?” Calex asked. He leaned up against the wall, sitting on top his sleeping bag. Kally winced anytime she glanced at him. Half his handsome face was covered in some vicious scabs that cracked when he talked. The bandages peaking out of his clothing indicated that wasn’t the only part of him that was cracking.
Merry, sitting between them, would occasionally frown and apply pressure with a clean cloth when something bled too much. Her face was marred with bruises, and when Kally had tried to put a thumb at neutral position to see how Merry was feeling, Merry had shaken her head and mouthed the words, later, sweetie.
Frank snorted and leaned back in his chair. “Augh, you should have heard Helios. ‘I helped find Persephone when Hades kidnapped her. You think I can’t find someone as high on his own sun fumes and flamboyant as Apollo?’’
Hazel frowned. “They really don’t like each other. After Sadie, Leo, and Jason got Hemera and Lapis back and Lady Nyx let Lord Apollo go, he stormed back here. Helios had come back to get rid of Python’s corpse—”
“Corpse?!” Calex and Kally echoed.
Her head spun. She had put her everything into the last light javelin she threw, but… corpse?
Calex slipped a hand past Merry to offer Kally a high five. “Nice play, Kassand,” he said.
Kally struggled to raise her arm that didn’t have the skin graft. Every move made her ribs burn. On the list of reasons she found her powers stupid, having the ability to conjure the heat and brilliance of the sun without being fireproof topped everything else.
Seeing her slow movement, Calex leaned the extra way to tap her hand.
“Thanks for the assist, McKenzie,” Kally said, sincerely hoping they’d be well enough and the chaos would settle enough that she and Calex could scrimmage each other on the soccer field. Every time they high-fived, it made her long for a fun, normal-seeming soccer match.
“Python will reform one day,” Reyna said. “Until then, Helios pried out her fangs for the two of you. Thalia already called dibs on one of the eyes to add to her Aegis shield.”
“Thalia’s okay?” Axel asked, his ears perking up at the name.
Reyna nodded. “Once Lady Diana saw the sun fall, she returned to check on everyone. Thalia is with Lady Diana now, assuring that Lord Apollo doesn’t skip out on details when they explain everything to the other Olympians.”
The squeak of a marker brought everyone’s attention to Alabaster. He held up his white board. If his jaw wasn’t wired shut, he looked like he might have been smirking.
Helios and Apollo didn’t get along?
Kally suddenly wondered whose side Helios was on during the Second Titan War and why Prometheus, who apparently had been hiding since Mount Othrys’ fall, had been comfortable going to him for help.
Hazel continued her story from where Kally had interrupted. Kally felt her cheeks get red, realizing how much she’d derailed them.
“Helios’ actions helped save the camp, but Lord Apollo was furious the older deity had borrowed the sun chariot. And Helios began shouting at him for neglecting his employees. He demanded Lord Apollo give Hemera, Eos, and Astraeus more benefits and more days off during the winter solstice. I thought they were about to start brawling, but that’s around when Artemis showed up and calmed her brother down. It was…” Hazel smiled softly. “Kinda sweet. You could tell Helios really cared. He only left to check on Hemera and make sure she and Nyx were okay.”
“At least he had some redeemable features,” Reyna grumbled. She flexed her hand and Kally noticed the bandages around Reyna’s knuckles. “And Lord Apollo helped a little with the healing before he left. His song saved Lou Ellen and Michael Kahale.”
Alabaster made a noise.
Kally glanced over to see him covering his stitched jaw, where she knew a bone had been sticking out a day before. Judging by his pallor, he must have tried to talk.
Kally didn’t have the heart to ask which people Apollo hadn’t been able to heal. A moment of silence passed; everyone seemed to be thinking the same thing.
Pax stopped rocking on his haunches. “So, two of the Special Seven are here.” He pointed to Hazel and Frank. “I’m going to guess Piper and Annabeth are still doing some massive sleep marathons to get rid of the kissing disease and the buboes. Commander Valdez just left, and his good mood means he’s got his blond Superman around. Where’s your Aquaman?”
The tone of his voice was a little too careful. Kally didn’t understand the seriousness of the question—she assumed Percy had other important things to do now that he wasn’t glued to a chair—then she saw the way Merry jutted her jaw to the side.
“After Jason assured him that he’d focus on reconstruction, Percy went to spend the day with his parents and little sister,” Hazel said, “I think the whole family is coming to help out tonight. He’s a little rough though. Um… I think the early stages of mono are setting in.”
Kally held her breath as Pax, Axel, and Lapis all turned their gaze to Merry. Even Calex frowned in concern, showing she hadn’t told him about anything yet.
Reyna cleared her throat, sitting up.
Merry waved the diversion off before Reyna could begin. “I guess I can’t really avoid the Debby Downer anymore,” she said. The buoyancy vanished from her voice. “I…”
Her gaze had sunk to the floor. Reflexively, she tapped her collarbone, like she expected the music dial on her jacket to appear. After sucking in a shaky breath, she looked back up, glancing from Pax, to Axel, to Lapis. “Baby Jackson is safe… but, by the time the EMTs got there...” A silent tear rolled down Merry’s busted cheek. She withdrew her hand from Calex’s reach when he tried to touch it. “Hiro is paralyzed from the waist down.”
Kally froze. She could hear the sound of three different cheeks popping.
“He fell onto one of the parapets… I shattered his mind. It was all I could think to do when—he’s at Mount Sinai hospital.” Merry’s breath was so short, she sounded close to hyperventilating. “I-I’m sorry.”
Kally felt her mouth hang open in surprise. Iciness in her stomach made her set the half-eaten breakfast sandwich down. Her appetite was gone.
Merry hated violence. She wouldn’t even hurt bugs. Shattering someone’s mind? Was that even something Merry could do?
Tears streamed down Pax’s face.
Axel closed his eyes.
Lapis choked into his gag. His chair thudded on the ground as he thrashed.
Pax shot up from his bedding.
Frank rose to intercept him, but Reyna shook her head.
Pax scurried to Lapis. With a whimper at moving his arm with the injured shoulder, he tore off Lapis’ gag before anyone could stop him.
That mustn’t have been what the praetor thought Pax would do. Maybe a hug. Not giving a psychopath their most dangerous weapon back.
Hazel, Frank, and Reyna all tensed. Kally expected Lapis to cast some kind of Egyptian magic and send everyone’s faces smashing into the ground.
Instead, Lapis sobbed, tearing making black lines as they mixed with his charcoal liner. “He’s alive. Our stupid grime-licking Dartface is still alive. You hear that, Tufted Ears?” Lapis looked up, his expression one of crazed glee. “There are still four Pax boys! Eat garbage, world! You can ‘t eradicate us that easily!”
Pax and Axel released broken laughs. Pax snuggled, as best as he could, against Lapis.
Axel muttered something back to Lapis in a staccato language that Kally could only guess was Mayan. The Egyptian barked something back that made them burst into more sob-laughs.
Merry looked understandably speechless. She hugged herself and huddled further from Calex’s worried glance.
Axel exhaled slowly and opened his eyes. “Merry, we expected you to do what you needed to do. Hiro babysat Percy’s little sister for days and was willing to cut off her fingers without a moment of hesitation.”
“His mind was more like a mirror hanging out at a skeet shooting lounge,” Pax croaked.
“But he’s alive,” Lapis repeated, rubbing the coal-tear streaks against his sleeve. “Our crazy bastard is alive.”
Lapis sat up to glare at Reyna. “I’m going to hug my brothers,” he announced. He muttered something in Egyptian and his bindings disintegrated.
The Romans clutched their weapons tightly as Lapis rose. He half-dragged Pax, half-limped over to Axel’s sleeping roll and collapsed beside him, dragging Pax down on his other side.
“We’re going to be a Facebook-friendly, snot-happy family, and we’re not losing any more of us. But, I’m still kicking both your sorry asses for all this shit later,” Lapis said, rubbing his face on some of Axel’s bandages. His scowl darkened when he pointed to where Merry was now sobbing into her cupped hand. “Don’t think you’re off the hook though, Wine Babe. You’re coming over all the flippin’ time to try to fix up Dart Face’s messed up head.”
Merry didn’t complain. She nodded her head feverously. With that tiny hint at forgiveness, she leaned toward Calex.
Despite all the terrible things Lapis had helped put them through, Kally felt her own eyes warm. Axel and Pax looked so much more relaxed with their family member beside them, like neither cared what was going to happen next. For a moment, she could picture some of the stories Pax had told her, about them playing in the school yards of Belize or pranking the carnival with Frasco. Her gut twisted to realize there really were only four members left when there used to be seven in their Tumbling group.
Like Reyna had read a book on how to ruin family moments, she twisted her knife deeper into her chair and said, “We need to talk about that.” Frank and Hazel’s expressions fell. Alabaster made a low growling sound, closer to something Axel might make. Dr. Claymore shut his book and examined them carefully.
“Merry being a Wine Babe?” Pax choked through hiccups.
Reyna ignored him. “Frank and I discussed matters with Chiron and Annabeth. Considering Merry’s father’s position at camp and her importance in saving Percy’s little sister, we believe the Olympians will overlook her involvement with the Triple A Chimera,” Reyna said.
Kally felt her stomach make a valid attempt to punch its way out.
“We believe Calex will also be absolved of any crimes, as well as Kally, especially considering their prominence in taking out Python. However, Euna is a different matter. Her declaration and continued vehemence towards the gods will make her a target for Olympian ire and they’re going to be looking for a target after this humiliation.”
Kally glanced over at Euna. The daughter of Demeter snored softly in her moss and grass cocoon. Despite the scythe in her hand, Euna looked peaceful, in a weird feral dryad sort of way.
Any relaxation Axel might have felt about having another sibling close must have tensed away. He sat up, away from Lapis and Pax, pulled his shoulders back, and raised his chin. “You’re not taking Euna without a fight,” he said.
Reyna sighed. She stood and walked over to Axel’s sleeping bag. When she knelt down, his gaze remained firm. Then, Reyna pressed the butt of her knife into Axel’s bandages.
Pax and Lapis exchanged a look and a short conversation in Mayan. One of Lapis’ hands shot up and Pax shoved it down.
Axel’s face paled at the pressure on his wounds. He collapsed backwards with little more than a grunt.
“Will says that you’d be dead if that goddess hadn’t helped you heal,” Reyna said, sheathing her knife. “And Euna’s not the only one we’re worried about. The Triple A Chimera isn’t safe. New Rome has wanted to hunt you down for years, and I assume the gods want the same. Look at what Ares did as an unofficial punishment. Image what it would be like with a full consensus.”[2]
Kally could feel the saliva building in her mouth and she swallowed back the urge to vomit. The thought of Pax’s fresh injuries and both brothers’ internal turmoil flashed through her head. She still couldn’t believe the Greeks and Romans worshipped gods that would force people to kill their own family members. She knew Axel and Pax had screwed up in the past—they’d even betrayed her—but nothing warranted what happened to them.
“None of you could defend yourself right now. The spellcaster doesn’t have a mouth to cast a spell. The thief can't use his hands to throw a smoke bomb or plan an escape. The tank isn’t strong enough to hold up against the gentlest press from the butt of a knife,” Reyna said, her tone tight.
“You said butt,” Pax whispered, though his face was still pale.
No one laughed at Pax’s joke. None of them were in a condition to help the Triple A Chimera or Euna escape, except maybe Euna herself. Even then, maybe not. Tearing one god apart left Euna comatose for a day. What would Euna do if they summoned her to Olympus with the twelve gods?
Squeaks interrupted the ominous hush. They glanced over to Alabaster as he flipped his white board over, What are you saying?
His scowl was intense.
“I’m saying that we’re grateful that you helped save camp, but that doesn’t make up for your crimes in the past.” Reyna’s sternness didn’t break under his glare.
Merry, Kally, and Calex exchanged a terrified glance. This wasn’t right, and they all knew it.
Frank cleared his throat. “But, we are also saying there is a lot of chaos happening at camp right now and it’s hard to keep track of who is here and who leaves and who was supposed to be guarding the Pax Mobile. Hazel, wasn’t it supposed to be Dakota?”
Hazel coughed and became very interested in something outside their room. “I’m not sure. I thought Dakota had a sugar crash and Bobby was supposed to take over for him? It’s kind of hard to say.”
After dealing with Axel and Pax for so long, Kally was relieved to see that Hazel was a terrible liar.
Tension eased from Kally’s chest. Merry squeezed Kally’s shoulder. Calex chuckled.
Axel still looked concerned as he struggled to sit up. Although they made it as subtle as possible, Kally could tell Lapis and Pax were helping him, especially when Lapis rolled his eyes. “Reyna?” he asked, like he was looking for affirmation.
Although Kally usually looked at Axel as a leader of sorts, she wanted to hit him with a, shut up and accept it speech.
Reyna folded her arms across her chest. Her face was unreadable. “If I didn’t want to face the Olympian’s wrath, I wouldn’t be here when the sunsets. That’s as long as Thalia suggested she could stall the Olympians, if there was a need. But, also, I would get out of here as soon as possible, in case any guards decided they wanted to change how vigilant they were being. Speaking of which, Zhang?”
Frank sat up, and Kally got the feeling he often forgot he was a praetor. It made him a lot less intimidating and made Kally feel even worse that she’d given him a massive concussion during one of their… misunderstandings. With the Triple A Chimera on the run again, Kally wondered if any of those misunderstanding would be cleared up, or if the Triple A Chimera would go down in the history books as exclusively monsters.
“We should decide who we wanted to post here, since Leo and Sadie might consider leaving early for their trip without telling anyone and there might be a gap in the guard,” she said. There was a hint of humor in her tone as she turned to step out the door.
As Frank went to stand, Axel said, “Wait, I’ve been meaning to say something to Praetor Zhang.”
Reyna continued out the door with little more than a wave. Apparently she was done with Pax nonsense for the day.[3]
Frank paused. His expression twisted to one of trepidation and Kally couldn’t blame him. Out of all the heroes of Olympus, this shockingly nice son of Mars had taken the brunt of the injuries from their group, both mental and… emotional.
“I’m sorry about your ear,” Axel said. The comment felt almost like a casual formality and Kally contemplated whether maiming apology letters were a thing.
Frank reached up to touch the bandages still plastered to the side of his head. He frowned. “Yea, I’m still pretty mad about that. But… um… Sorry my dad made me interrupt your date. I would have at least waited until you were alone to arrest you. Do you guys… know what happened to it? My ear, I mean? Will said we could have reattached my ear if we had it…”
Frank looked a little queasy. Kally had to wonder: if someone ripped off her ear, would she rather they had eaten it or the ear just been lost?
Alabaster and Pax exchanged a glance. Axel’s face remained blank, but he puffed up his cheeks and popped them.
The son of Hecate tapped his white board to draw attention to him. After an uncomfortable period of marker squeaks, Alabaster held up his board, No. It would be weird if we took it, right?
Frank’s shoulders slumped. “I just wish we hadn’t lost it,” he said.
Calex cleared his throat. Kally made herself look anywhere but at Frank. Merry glanced at all of them with a disapproving, confused hum.
Before anyone could stop him, Pax let out a nervous giggle. “Oh, we didn’t. It’s in a tube of formaldehyde in Alabaster’s basement.”
Frank paled. His mouth moved a few times in horror. Hazel’s eyes went wide.
“I just wish we’d lost it,” Frank corrected forlornly. If possible, his shoulders sank lower.
“Oh!” Pax said, “Speaking of not losing things that could emotionally destroy cute Canadian boys.”
From within his blanket nest, Pax withdrew a charred stick and balanced it on his busted hand like he was presenting a baby lion.
Hazel reacted first. She snatched the stick from Pax’s palm and held it close to her chest. “When did you get this back?!”
“We thought Atë still had it!” Frank said. He rushed to Hazel’s side, slipping a hand to hers to touch his stick.[4] “Thank—wait, were you the one that set it on fire during the fight? I felt that.”
Frank scowled at Pax.
Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them. “If I said that I gambled your life force for a good cause—Aye!”
“What Ajaxapax is trying to say is that he’s sorry for stealing your piece of ugly kindling in the first place,” Lapis said. His fingers were pinched tightly around Pax’s ear. His charcoal-lined eyes narrowed as he gave Pax a devilish grin. “Just ‘cause Tufted Ears traumatized you doesn’t mean you get an easy pass.”
“But—but my year of consequence-free pranking!” Pax squeaked, squirming to break Lapis’ hold.
Hazel tucked the stick neatly into Frank’s pocket. “When did you get it from him in the first place?” she asked. “Frank is really careful with his stick.”
Lapis released Pax so he could give a proper explanation.
Heat rose in Kally’s cheeks. With everything going on, she couldn’t remember why she was so enraged by the mention of that stick, but she knew it was something that made her furious.
As they watched, Pax’s features shifted. His skin darkened several shades as his hair lightened to a cinnamon. His black eye lightened to match the hazel one. His frame shrank. Within a few seconds, there were two Hazels in the room. Fortunately, his hand stayed busted and bruised as a dead giveaway in the event that they decided to play a quick round of Ring around the Rosie. Pax-Hazel altered the way he was sitting, mimicking Hazel’s shy demeanor.
Frank’s jaw dropped.
Real Hazel gasped.
Hazel-Pax batted his-her eyes at Frank and fanned her face. When he spoke, his accent mimicked her slight Louisiana one. “Oh, the day after we arrived in New Rome? It was just a little detour that Frank and I took on our walk to the training fields. I needed you two to be too flustered to communicate, so no one would realize there were two Hazels walking around. And I needed a centurion that the praetors would trust to go into the principia on their own.”
“Wait, what?” Axel demanded, scowling at Pax.
“You dodgy perv,” Calex said, putting the good half of his face into his hand. “Do you want these blokes to go back on letting you go?”
Frank looked like he couldn’t decide if he was going to be sick or if he was going to turn into a rhino and gore Pax. Hazel looked horrified. “You were mean to Frank? As me?!” she asked, sounding genuinely hurt.
Kally remembered why she was in the let’s hurt Pax party.
“Yea, ‘mean.’” Hazel-Pax lost the act. At real Hazel’s appall, he gave Frank an endearing smile. “She’s so cute and innocent.”
Frank seemed to decide on goring Pax. He stood back to full height and Kally could see him tensing for an attack.
Lapis twisted Pax’s ear again. Pax shrieked while morphing back into his raven-haired, hazel-and-black eyed, Hispanic self.
“Aye! Okay! Okay! I’m sorry I impersonated your girlfriend and rocked your morning!”
“We’re giving you this head start because you saved the camp,” Frank told him, shaking with rage, “But, once we help rebuild the camp, I’m fulfilling my father’s quest and dragging you before the Olympic council in place of your brother.”
With the threat, Frank stalked off down the hallway.
Hazel paused. She walked up to Pax and punched him in the face.
Pax squealed again, pressing his ruined palm to his face. “Well deserved punches are the most painful!”
Hazel’s mouth moved a few times. She blushed. When she couldn’t think of the right words, she stormed off after Frank.
Although Kally knew Pax’s words were light, the tone was choked, like all his obnoxious bravado had met its match. For an uncomfortable moment, she wondered if Pax had been intentionally a jerk to let Frank and Hazel focus on that, instead of going easy on him after… everything.
Kally shook off the feeling. She was still mad at him for doing whatever he did with Frank while they were almost-not-really-dating. She was also mad that she couldn’t decide if she did or didn’t want to know what it was or if that even mattered. There had been so much going on, and so much almost dying, that Kally hadn’t had a chance to think about her feelings for Pax, or that Alabaster had kissed her in the infirmary, or that Alabaster and Pax had dated, or that Pax had locked himself into a hopefully platonic date with his half-sister. There was still too much going on to acknowledge that train wreck.
New rule: no flirting until at least one month after the most recent traumatic event. Preferably with everyone in safe locations with fewer gods trying to kill them.
Kally glanced at Pax, wondering how long he’d make it before—
“What did you do?” Axel demanded again, his voice tight.
Tapping emitted across the room and Alabaster pointed to his board. And why did you need access to the principia? Unlike Axel, Alabaster looked amused.
“Yep, still illiterate,” Pax reminded him, though Kally suspected he’d dodge that question regardless. “Let’s just say that Frank might know these hands better than Alabaster or Kally. And really, that—in itself—is a crime.” Pax held his hands up and winked at Kally. He blew a kiss to Alabaster as best he could. Although he was trying to look playful and cute, the way his shoulder slumped and the discoloration of his hand almost distracted Kally from the obscenity. Almost.
Axel sighed. “Lapis, can you hurt Pax for me?”
Pax didn’t squeak fast enough when Lapis snagged his ear. There was a split second where Kally could see Pax examining his hand. His forearm twitched with movement, but only his thumb folded to the bruised skin. A sickness returned to Kally’s stomach when she realized he was trying to move his other four fingers. All their hard work reattaching Pax’s tendons had been undone. She wondered if he’d ever be able to move his fingers again.
In one way, that felt like karma, with how much of a sneak thief and pickpocket Pax was. But then Kally remembered how much Pax liked to paint and sew and bake for others. She remembered how he used his pickpocketing to help his brother combat his nicotine addiction.
That moment of Pax’s silent recognition past, then he was whining under Lapis’ grip. “Aye! Okay! I lied! Kally still knows this hand better!”
Merry shoved Kally’s shoulder while humming Let’s get it on.
Kally felt like her face had caught fire, her head scrambling to figure out what he was—
“Because I cut it open for surgery?” she half-asked, half-explained. That’s the only thing he could—
Something made a loud thump. Kally jumped. Pain exploded in her ribs and she inhaled sharply. That’s when she remembered there was an adult in the room, listening to this whole conversation.
Claymore had slammed his book shut, which Kally didn’t even remember him reopening. “As charming as this teenage idiocy is, it might be prudent to follow the praetors’ suggestion of haste. The Triple A Chimera and Euna are on a timeline. I don’t want to see what will happen if they change their minds.”
***
Thank you for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed :D Stay tuned next week for Kally’s chapter, A Stalling Resolution. And, afterwards, stay tuned for the Part One/Part Two epilogues the following weeks! We’re so close to being done!
***
Footnotes:
[1] Pax would like to say that Alabaster probably wants to say this regardless, but not with the same intention that Kally fears.
[2] I just had to note the amount of swearing and anger Mel wrote in her betanotes about this. XD
[3] Mel beta note: “BUT YOU LOVE ONE PAX’S NONSENSE, RIGHT?! THERE’S STILLL A CHANCE, RIGHT?!”
[4] I will leave this how it sounds and judge all of you for saying anything between this cute Canadian and sweet New Orleans girl could be dirty.
#TOO#HOO#Heroes of Olympus#Percy Jackson and the Olympians#PJO#Traitors of Olympus#Calex#Kally#Reyna#Frank#Hazel#Pax#Axel#Alabaster#Merry#Lapis#Pax almost rightfully gets his ass kicked by Frank <3#WE'RE SO CLOSE TO THE END! SOOOO cloooossseee!
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Anon asked: "U are so fucking funny! SO! THIS is going to be sad can u write something about Dwayne getting into a fight with his mate (including the fight make me CRY lol) and then she proceeds to not talk to him for days because she is insecure about herself and about what he said and then she leaves Santa Carla and u can decide what happens after that? But please u can make me cry there isn't much dwayne content here, and it's sad! Btw I love your blog , personality and aesthetic! 💞💗💕💖💓💘💝"
Warnings: Anxiety, Deoression, Death, Rejection??
You are the sweetest, of course I can write this for you. But be-warned, I hate making people cry unless they deserve it. But I'll try!! Also I tried to put some Cherokee words in there because Billy is Cherokee. @dead-inside-and-drunk-outside @langdonsdemon
Dwayne/Reader
First Person POV
It wasn't a busy night on the boardwalk, seeing as it was out of season. But it was Santa Carla, aka the best tourist trap ever. So it was still filled with a bunch of locals trying to avoid getting asked where the rides were, the movie theatre was, all that stuff. I was on the boardwalk, spending time with Star. Why was I doing that? My bestfriend figured I needed a babysitter while he and his family were out hunting with some people. Not that I minded spending time with Star, in fact I loved it. I just didn't appreciate Dwayne feeling like I needed someone to watch over me while he got something to eat. Star grabbed my hand, giving ne a sympathetic look, no doubt knowing what I was thinking. "You're annoyed aren't you?" I raised my eyebrow at her question and looked at her, "You aren't?"
I watched as she ran her fingers through her hair, a sigh coming out of her lips. "Sure I'm annoyed, but that's because I'm actually a full vampire. I can take care of myself." We were in the same boat. Well... Almost. I was human, she wasn't. A new undead gang showed up in Santa Carla three weeks ago. David decided he wanted to see what they were like and invited them on a hunt with him and his boys. No doubting the fact that he probably had a different motive. But, David didn't think Star could handle hanging around a bunch of new vamps.
"Not that you couldn't survive being alone for one night, but I'm hungry and this is just stupid." She rolled her eyes, pulling me towards a bench. "Plus, if he would just let me hunt, I could come back and actually just hang with you. Screw what Dwayne thinks." I snorted, remembering what he told me about 2 hours ago. "Look, we don't know how many of them there are. What if one decided to stay back and smelled all of us on you?" It grated on my nerves to no end. We watched Laddie bounce around in front of us, playing with the annoying pigeons. At least he was given an option to go. Not that he wanted to, he always stuck to Star like glue. Not that that thought helped much. They all trusted him way more then they did us.
The roar of motercycle's made me pick up my head, looking behind me at the beach. "Well... They're back I guess." Star gave a sigh of relief, leaning her head on my shoulder when I turned back around. I giggled at her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. "Look... Just don't say that I was ticked okay?" She hummed and moved her head a bit. "You and Dwayne still fighting?" I sighed, thinking about all of the small stupid arguments he and I have been having lately. I lightly shook my head, laughing a bit. "You know it. It's all we ever do now." I felt my stomach jump at the thought of seeing him again, making me grab Star's hand. "You won't... Leave me alone with him will you?" She turned her head, looking to see if the boys were on the boardwalk yet. Seemingly satisfied, she looked back at me, a humorless smile on her face. "You know I can't promise that. Laddie and I are starving. You can't avoid him forever." I stood up while sighing in frustration, not at Star but at myself.
Star stood up to give my cheek a kiss. I watched as she got Laddie's attention, telling him it was fine to get something to eat now that the boys were back. I didn't wait around for Dwayne to show up find me, walking down to the rides. It's just so damn annoying! I kicked an empty fry bucket that was in my way out of anger. Things were just weird between me and him now a days. I thought that maybe... Maybe he might... I felt my eyes start to water at the thoughts swirling in my head, all of them focused on Dwayne. I stood in the crowd formed around the stage and looked up, furiously blinking away any stray tears. I felt a hand on the small of your back, causing me to freeze.
"Relax (Y/N), it's just me." 'I know that it's you.' I wanted to say, but just like the first 3 years of our friendship, one of us will talk while the other stays silent. Of course he found me here. It was Friday night, and there was 2 free concerts. I looked up at the dark skinned man next to me, studying his face. "Where did Star go?" He asked quietly, worry laced in his voice. I chuckled, looking back at oiled up man on stage. "She and Laddie went to get something to eat, seeing as David didn't trust her." I paused for a moment before voicing what I had been thinking while with Star earlier. "Or maybe he did trust her and he just owed you something?" I looked back at him, feeling a bitter smile curl on my face. It was just like him to do this to me. 'No, No, No! Stop it. Just let it go. You said you could remain friends with him, so keep it to that.'
Of course I was going to through a hissy fit at him. This was getting ridiculous. Just because he turned me down didn't mean he didn't care and I had to act like a bitch. "Look, Dwayne it's fine. Can we just... Go back to the cave or something?" I caught the panicked look on his face and rushed to speak before he said no. "Can the others come to? I'm pretty sure Star and Laddie can find their way back on their own." He looked a bit more relived at the offer, nodding his head. Normally at this point he and I would be all over one another, holding hands, making jokes. All that jazz. But, after I asked him out... It's like he drew back from me. Meeting Dwayne, he never hid from me for one bit. Always trying to get me to laugh, lean on him, or braid his hair. It was one of the reasons I started to fall in love with him. Yes I know, love. Ugh. Tacky as hell, but I won't deny it. I almost had a heart attack the first time he kissed my cheek. Ugh! Stop it stop it stop it! If you keep thinking about all of this you'll get sad and annoyed again.
Second Person POV
You followed behind Dwayne, occasionally apologizing to people that got pushed out of the way. You looked at the figure in front of you, walking swiftly around everyone. A stitch in your side started to make itself known trying to keep up with his long quick strides. "Dwayne come on, can you please slow down? It's 10 pm. I think you'll beat the sun." If he heard you, he didn't show it. Out of nowhere, you felt something collide into your back, pushing you forwards. Out of instinct, you reached out and grabbed Dwayne's hand. "What th-" He cut himself off when he saw it was just you. "I'm sorry, I needed to stabilize myself." You know he heard you over everything, being a vampire had it's perks. You figured he would nod and keep walking with you, but when he wouldn't tighten his hand around yours, almost like he was trying to shrug you off, you just gave up. You felt your throat tighten up when you watched him shove his hand into his pocket, not sparing you a glance.
'Is it because I asked you out?!' You wanted to ask. 'Is it because I said I love you?!' You wanted to yell at him. You staggered a bit, tripping over a loose floorboard, your vision blurry. You landed on the ground with a hard thud, your face burning with humiliation. You hopped no one was watching as you rolled off your knees and onto your butt. "Jesus fucking christ..." Tears started falling down your face as you examined your hands and knees. They burned, the skin ripped, scratched and bleeding. You looked back up to see Dwayne looking at you, almost like he just lost a bet. It sparked something in your chest, him looking at you like that. You hissed in pain, pushing yourself off the ground with your hands. "You okay girl?"
"No. No I'm not okay Dwayne. And you're not fucking helping either." You side-stepped him, pushing away his hands. He walked behind you, easily keeping up with you. "What's your problem (Y/N)? What crawled up your ass and died?" A disgusted laugh escaped your throat. "Ya know I didn't wanna go there, but it certainly wasn't you." You speed up your pace, tears streaming down your face. You cringed a bit, hearing his footsteps falter and then pick up again. "What the hell is that supossed to mean?" You shook your head, trying to get him to get away from you. "I don't know... I just said the first thing that came in my head. Can you please just leave me alone?" You hopped off the boardwalk, onto the sand. "If you're gonna keep acting like a little papoose then I will leave." This stopped you in your tracks, looking back at him. "I'm acting like a child? You're the one who won't even look me in the eyes anymore."
It was true even at that moment, Dwayne chose to look just above your head then directly at you. It was annoying as hell, making you even angrier. "So what's going on then huh? We're friends the next minute, I ask you out and it's like I'm one of the new meals you're fuckin with." He flinched at the words you choose, making you feel bad. "I didn't really mea-" He cut you off, venom in his voice. "You did mean it and you know it." He let out a humorless chuckle, making you take a step back. You knew how he felt about you calling yourself the next meal. He always hated it, hated that you thought so little of yourself, so little of him. You wrapped your arms around yourself, hiccuping a bit. He finally looked down at you, seeing that you were crying. You stepped back, looking away when he reached out to you. "I know that you hate to hear it... But it's true Dwayne. It's like you never even cared about me in the first place. I can handle just being friends with you, saying okay and getting over the fact that you don't care about me the same way I care about you." You stopped talking, your chest spasming a bit. You took a few deep breath to calm yourself. But when you looked up at him, seeing his emotionless face, you just... broke.
You let out a strangled sob, clutching yourself harder and digging your nails into your skin. In the corner of your vision you saw the rest of the boys standing there, watching helplessly. You backed up a bit, hunching over forward. No one spoke while you continued to sob, almost on the verge of screaming. You reached up to your face, wiping away the tears and snot. You probably looked a mess, but in your state of mind you just didn't care. "Why..." You mumbled, closing in on yourself. You felt a sharp pain on your arms, but it was probably fron your nails. You just didn't want to be there at that moment, showing everyone just how hurt you were. You saw someone step forward to you on your right. They stopped moving whoever they were when you shook your head fast. You began taking short and fast breaths. Dwayne leaned down a bit, careful not to get in your space, "What do you need ageyutsa?" He whispered. You stuggled to form the words, completely collapsing in on yourself. "Star-" you struggled out, needing the only true motherly/sister figure in your life. "I want Star!"
Dwayne stepped back as you felt slender arms wrap around your frame. You finally let go of yourself, holding on to Star for dear life. She felt like an anchor to you as she spoke quietly. "Shhhh, it's okay." You buried your face into her stomach, letting out a scream. You knew you shouldn't be acting like this, it was so trivial to you. But you just couldn't explain the intense feeling of fire and ice that has been running through your veins ever since he rejected you. "Dwayne... Tell her." You heard Star whisper. You looked up at the man in front of you, confusion and despire mixed into his face. "(Y/N)... I won't ever be with you. I just can't." More pain spiked in your core as he continued. "I'm dead my love. I'm a vampire. You're human. You shouldn't have been the one." Star pulled you into a standing position, so you could face him.
"Tell her what you mean." You heard David say on your far right. Dwayne held your eyes, his face still emotionless as you struggled for air. "A vampires blood mate is supossed to be a vampire. But... You're a human. You're my blood mate. That makes me a disgrace of a vampire." You flinched at the harshness of his words. "It shouldn't be you. Max wouldn't let either of us live if he found out you were a human." You struggled to keep up with what he was saying, a small light of hope flairing into your chest. "Just... Change me then?" You looked over to David, a sad smile on his face. "He won't let me." He muttered loud enough for you to hear. The hope you were feeling escaped you with the strangled sob you let go. You looked back at the man that was holding your heart and ripping it to shreads. "I won't do that to you... I won't let you kill someone just to live." You felt lighthead as you let go of Star, "But letting me live feels like death already." You waited for him to say something, but when he didn't you nodded, brushing Star's hands away. Grabbing your hair and pulling it in an anxious manner, you walked up to Dwayne, stepping up on your tiptoes. "Fine then." You kissed his cheek and stepped back. "I guess we need time apart." No one stopped you as you walked away. No one saw the group of boys on the boardwalk, smirking while watching you crawl away for safety. The smell of your bloddied cuts from earlier reaching their heightened senses.
It had been a few days since that night. Everytime you thought about everything he said, you felt even worse about yourself. You sat on the bench at the bus stop, thinking about what you were doing. You couldn't go back and face them. Any of them. When you did actually brave the boardwalk one time, you saw David and you freaked. He started walking towards you to make sure you were okay, - Probably for Star's sake. You just can't see him really caring for you like a sister.- but you bolted. You haven't been back since. You used the money you've been saving for college to get motel rooms for about 2 weeks now. But, staying by yourself cooped up has been wrecking your mind. So you figured it was time to move on. You couldn't keep hanging around here. It was just something you had to do. You didn't see the shadows around you, or notice them growing.
Third Person POV
No one saw what happened that night. People would tell the Lost Boys that it was too dark, windy or it was raining. Well it was dark, but it certainly wasn't rainy or windy. The boys knew what happened. Paul swore to that damn god in the sky that if that any vamp even thought about touching his little sister, that he would make it his life's work to harm so many innocent people. Marko and David were the ones who tracked down the other gang. Star and Dwayne were the ones who ripped them apart. Laddie had to stay in the cave, still unaware where his other best friend was. The leader had simply stated to Dwayne that he was doing him a favor. That didn't really help him, and it didn't help Dwayne in the end either. He let a part of him die the night (Y/N) did.
No one talks about (Y/N) anymore around Dwayne. Everyone figured that she would show back up later, ready to kick Dwayne's ass. Marko and Paul had a bet going on, for when (Y/N) would come back. It was just the type of person she was. Mental breakdown, and then you just went mental. But Dwayne knew (Y/N) was dead. It was a sharp feeling, painful and world shattering. The moment it happened, he dropped to the ground, the world spinning. It wasn't normal for a vampire to throw up, but he managed it, only bringing up blood.
He wouldn't tell the others what he knew, all except David and Star. The two of them would go around and rip down the missing posters of her face. They just couldn't risk watching Dwayne break down again. He was the first one to come across the posters. It utterly destroyed him. What (Y/N)'s mother didn't know when printing the posters out, was that Dwayne was in it as well. He couldn't sew himself next to her on the page, but he knew that memory. It was the first time she ever held his hand, and then later kissed his cheek. It was in her room, black out curtains up. After calming down, he took the first poster that he laid eyes on, and put it in his breast pocket. He wouldn't talk to anyone but David. Always telling him that whenever he found his mate, human or not... To have them. To never make the same mistake as he did.
I know this is the laziest ending, but I've been going through some stuff today and I didn't want to skip out on the promise of posting this. I've just been so... Ugh lol. I'm sorry, I really hope you liked it and I'll try so much harder next time! @langdonsdemon I'll be writing that little one-shot with Dwayne and the reader soon. So it'll be alot happier!
#paul the lost boys#marko the lost boys#the lost boys#the lost boys imagines#david the lost boys#the lost boys (1987)#the lost boys david#dwayne the lost boys#star the lost boys#laddie the lost boys#santa carla#vampires#vampyr#vampire#mates#soul mates#anon is sweet#anon ask#anonymous#x reader#reader is female#oneshot#anxiety#depression#character death
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Christmas Dinner Part II
The much awaited final chapter of the Christmas dinner prompt! This is pure fluff with a delectable finish, if I do say so myself. The first part of this fic can be found here.
I am so sorry that I had to repeatedly bump back the post date for this piece. You guys were so excited for it, and I swear that I got it to you as soon as I could. I’ve had a couple of weeks with a new job and some stuff that needed to get done around the house for the change in season.
As always, I am grateful for your patience, and I would love to know what you think of my work!
(Side note: If you want to be added to a taglist, let me know. I don’t really have one yet, only a small one for Part II of the Ballerina/Dick fic. Not really sure if anyone is interested. Drop me an ask or message me if you’d like to be tagged in my work, and please specify if there are certain triggers that you’d like not to be tagged in.)
"Just make sure to act... ya’ know.... natural. Like we willingly spend time with one another romantically. Also please, please do not take Jason’s bait. He’s always an especially bitter pill during these parties. I don’t know why. It’s just like, one of his things. One of his many things. Oh! And remember-”
“Christ on a bicycle, Tim!” you interrupt him, patience completely evaporated. “I know how to be a girlfriend. I’ve been in more relationships for an amount of time that totals longer than your go with Stephanie. I know all the weird quirks with your family, even Jason. I understand what jokes not to make. All of my major etiquette lessons were from Alfred himself, and I don’t drink. Won’t make a habit of it in front of Bruce as an underage date to the only son functioning as a public figure for Wayne Enterprises. I get it. I know. Chill the fuck out and get off my back, or I’m going to punch you in your bird throat.”
Usually, you do not threaten violence to anyone, especially people as kindhearted as Tim. Jesus God though, 45 minutes of his frantic dictation about your expected behaviors and you’re ready to strip off your bribery gown, roll out of the moving car buck-ass naked, and hoof it back to your apartment in the snow.
You have enough anxiety of your own, poured into a buh-jillion dollar dress that was made to push your boobs up to your chin and mold your butt into some kind of evergreen-colored peach. You can barely walk in your shoes, you’re wearing jewelry that cost more than your education, you are terrified that Damian might mistake your fake fur for the real thing and try to murder you on the spot, and the flower crown braided to your head is made of poky pine twigs, baby pine cones, and glittery sugared berries that are all working together to make your scalp itch worse than the week and a half you spent fighting a colony of lice in the fourth grade.
Fucking Lacey Whitaker and her four-feet of infested hair...
In short, you want to die and you haven’t even tried to lie to Batman yet.
“Wow.” Tim blinks, mouth scrunched into an unimpressed line.
You sigh, hanging your head. “Tim, I am not going to punch you. That would be unkind and, frankly, a stupid move on my part.” You shake your head. “Not a fight I can win.”
“I’m honestly less offended by the punching and more hung up on the bird throat comment.”
You cut your eyes at him, incredulous. “Yeah, well, that scarf isn’t exactly doing you favors.”
He balks, jaw falling open. “Okay, first: you must be going blind. Francisco hand delivered all of the accent notes for my attire, including this scarf, so that I would match your dress. The one that you picked. The one that is on your body this very minute, if you would recall. The botanical embroidery is even consistent. So, yeah.” He motions to the fitted portion of the gown that can be seen hugging your thighs below the hem of your fluffy false fur coat. “Second observation: you are hella’ mean when you have The Anxiety, and I did not intend to fan that flame.”
“Well, you’re hella’ bossy when you get nervous. Not a great combination to be crammed in a sports car together.”
“Noted,” he says, pulling the scarf looser.
The rest of the drive is somewhat tense as you both deeply question your life choices and rehearse the practiced cover story about first dates and whatnot. The sidewalk that leads to the main entrance of Wayne Manor is mercifully devoid of ice, having been flawlessly scraped and salted ahead of time. Alfred greets the two of you with a broad smile and ushers you into the bright, impeccably decorated foyer.
“Happy Christmas,” he says, looking down at you in his warm, if distant, way. “Aren’t you a sight, Miss?”
You acknowledge the compliment as Alfred hangs Tim’s coat and scarf, ducking your head in an awkward cross between a nod and a bow, frantically trying to peel the fur coat away from you before Damian gets a look at it.
It is then that Tim sees the bodice of your dress for the first time. He stares, too struck by the full effect of the incredibly intricate, fitted garment to be ashamed that he is staring. The gown envelops you tightly from your bust to just below your hips, flowing seamlessly into rounded pool of silken fabric at the floor. Delicate lacework that echos the embroidery running throughout the piece act as wide, gossamer straps that tip over your shoulders and dive into what the cut of the dress would indicate to be a deep hemline baring a good portion of your back. With the high notes of red in your wreath, on your shoes, and staining your pretty, pretty lips, it’s hard for Tim to decide if the incredibly flattering silhouette created by your gown is more provocative than the contrasting, complimentary colors of forest green and holly-berry red that work to draw eyes up and down your body, then back up again... and down.... and up.
It is Alfred’s voice, chastising him, that breaks Tim out of his awed silence. “Take her coat and put your tongue back in your mouth immediately, Master Timothy.”
“Right!” he says, closing his eyes with a nod and stepping toward you. And again quietly, he almost sighs, “Right.”
You hand him the fur, somewhat confused. Meeting his eye, you attempt to convey a look that asks whether or not he’s begun acting. After all, it’s only Alfred, and you both knew that there was zero hope of convincing the brilliant Englishman from the get. Tim was relying on the gentleman’s steadfast discretion to allow him this Christmas of peace from his brothers.
Your initial reaction to Tim’s obvious admiration isn’t playful banter or a controlled taunt, as rehearsed. Rather, you are overwhelmingly flattered and suddenly battling an absolute tidal wave of uncharacteristic bashfulness. Heat burns in your cheeks from more than the rush of blood brought up by the warm house as you pass off your coat. Tim seems genuinely embarrassed too, as he avoids touching your hands and keeps his body far from you, using the full length of an outstretched arm to snag the outerwear. The left side of his face is crumpled in an apologetic wince, and the expression cuts clean through you. The bubble of your sheer delight implodes into a million little radiant drops as you try to decide whether or not the wince means he regrets having found you an attractive sight.
That is not how boyfriends who enjoy your dress behave. Tim’s presenting a friend reaction, a friend who is afraid of having objectified or offended you. You steel yourself against the rush of anxiety that previously dimmed your flattered reaction and accept that you are gonna’ have to hem this tattered patchwork of a plan all by your lonesome if it’s going to be believable.
The Red Robin’s body language indicates that he’s all but thrown in the towel here at the door.
And so, you take a deep breath, unfolding the neat, tidy little booklet of repressed feelings that you’ve been harboring in the pockets of your heart since you were 15, and you let yourself smile at him.
Really smile. The way you do when his back is turned. When his woefully dedicated or unimaginably funny words are in text. When you know it’s safe and no one will see the way that you smile for Tim.
Your lips curve up a bit wry, teasing but encouraging. Teeth flash, a porcelain sign advertising your giddy joy and the silly sense of eagerness you allow yourself to feel, all-too-easily engaging the fantasy that this is a real date. Your shoulders half-shrug, and you catch the perfectly manicured nail of your ring finger between the knuckles of the opposite third and fourth fingers, running the corner of your thumbnail beneath it. The gesture is a nervous, fiddling one that communicates that damnably predominant shyness creeping up again.
You keep his eyes too, pegging him with an expression that communicates all of the softness and the intensity that you’ve been fighting to hide for so long.
Tim goes stone still, like he’s been struck by lightening and his brain decided to exist stage left for intermission. He stares at you, staring at him like he’s answered some kind of prayer by grabbing your coat.
For a brief, breathless moment, he feels like Gods must.
He’s dizzy with the sensation. It echos from his temples through his skull, then all the way down to every toe. A reverberation of unmitigated glory as delivered by the expression of someone he loves.
Nobody has ever looked at him that way.
Not even right after he saves their life.
“Heavens,” Alfred mumbles behind him, a shared note of awe in his voice.
Tim jerks, having completely forgotten where he was, why he’d be there, or that other humans who weren’t you existed at all.
The older gentleman relieves Tim of the coat, casting a prideful, knowing look over the much younger man. “I’ll just take that. Everyone is socializing in the parlor. Go on to the party, and I will call when the dinner preparations are in order.”
Tim, grateful that Alfred habitually motioned both of you toward the heavy mahogany doors that lead into the front sitting room, realizes that he somehow lost all memory of the manor’s blueprint. He also cannot recall the name of Damian’s dog.
“Well,” you say, waiting until Alfred bustles away before leaning toward him with a much more contained smile. You nod toward the parlor, a curl falling from its place pinned to your crown.
“Uh,” Tim delays, closing his eyes and giving his head a quick shake. He dares to step closer to you and carefully brushes at the strand of loose hair. “Actually, do you think it would be okay if... um.... well, I was wondering if you’d like the plan being that this-” he motions between the two of you. “This was less for pretend and more for real?”
He speaks so quietly that you are straining to hear him. Beyond that, what you can make out of his words seem to imply a notion that has your heart hammering so hard that it isn’t leaving any room for your lungs to expand.
You get closer and whisper more distinctly. “More real how?”
“Like, real real.”
“You are not helping me understand, Tim,” you hiss, feeling rather vulnerable and unsure.
He grins haltingly, schooling his features into a gentler expression before balancing your chin on his thumb and forefinger. Tim tilts your face up, sure to keep gauging your reaction to his approach with inquisitive looks and plenty of pauses. Your eyes flutter shut after the tip of his nose presses into yours playfully, and he angles his head to brush past the bridge of your own nose and nuzzle into your cheek.
Time stops again when you’re on the very cusp of kissing, lips together in a tickling brush with warm puffs of breath mingling between you. “Is this okay?” he asks, the press of his mouth to yours causing you to silently mirror the formation of his words.
“Uh-huh,” you answer a susurrant hum, eyes still closed and oh so excited for a proper kiss.
“Ah, crap.” Jason’s voice booming out of the parlor behind you has both you and Tim jumping out of your skins. “That’s 60 bucks to Selina, guys! Turns out Timbo and Bo-peep are an item after all. They’re kissin’ in the foyer like animals! Catwoman takes the pot.”
#Tim Drake#Christmas Dinner#Christmas Gala#Christmas Dinner Part II#Tim Drake Imagine#Tim Drake x Reader#Anon Request#request#answer#fanficiton#fanfic#DC#DC imagines#Batboys#Batboys imagine#Batfam#Batfamily#robin x reader#red robin x reader#prompt#sorry this took so long#I hope you like it!
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Children and secrets part two
I suggest you read part one first.
Y/n sat in the back of the car while Spencer sat in front, their fight forgotten in the rush of trying to safe probably three people. As the car stopped, and all the FBI agents hopped out, pulling their guns, Y/n took a deep breath, a habit she had made. She knew this could be her last breath of fresh air. She hoped it wouldn’t be, but if it was, she would be ready. Or at least, almost. “Spence, I love you.” She whispered as Spencer Reid stood besides her, waiting for the sign to invade the house. “I love you too.” Spencer said, glancing down at the girl who still looked straight at the house. Hotch gave a sign, Morgan kicked down the door and everyone stormed inside like bees. Y/n, Prentiss and Spencer went to the small upstairs. There were only two rooms, but it was obvious in which room they were. Y/n nodded her head in that direction and kicked the door open. “Put down the weapon!” Emily called at the middle aged brunette who was holding a knife. A man and a woman laid on the ground, eyes open and full of fear, paralyzed by a drug. A baby boy was in the arms of the woman, knife pressed to it’s neck. He was crying softly. “Helen, You do not want to do this.” Y/n said, gun still pointed. “I do. They can not be happy and rubbing it in my face while I am not.” She said, voice cracking. Lowering her gun, Y/n stepped closer. “I know why you aren’t happy. You lost your child.” Helen lowered the knife. “Chase.” She whispered. “And your husband.” The woman let a tear fall. “I know you can’t have children, not anymore.” Helen got an angry expression, pressing the knife back to the boy’s throat. “I know how that feels.” Y/n said, putting her gun away. “You don’t! I’m sure you have a lot of children! liar!” Helen called. “I know what it feels like. I want children, really bad. But I can’t. Do you know why?” Helen shook her head. “When I was young, I got in a shooting, lost my dad. Got shot in the stomach. Lost my ovary’s. I know how much it hurts to not being able to have a child.” Y/n swallowed, seeing how Spencer slightly lowered his gun. “I can help you, you don’t have to hurt the baby. You don’t have to hurt anyone.” She whispered. Helen was silently crying, she dropped the knife, and was about to drop the baby when Y/n swiftly took him out of her hands. Emily sped to the woman, pulling her hands behind her back. Spencer called for an ambulance and Y/n focussed on making the baby silent again. “Shht... It’s okay. I am here, Mommy and Daddy will be fine. Just be quiet. You are safe now.” She cooed, rocking the baby and smiling, even though she didn’t feel like it.
As the baby and his parents went to the hospital, Y/n watched them leave, knowing she couldn’t avoid Spencer any more. “Y/n, Why didn’t you tell me? We have been dating for almost six years.” Spencer sounded hurt, but Y/n was tired, and not in the mood to talk. “Don’t act so butt-hurt, Spencer. I never told anyone. Not even my best friends know. I am tired, and probably emotional. I am going to sleep. We can discuss this later.” But Spencer couldn’t wait, he wasn’t angry, just... Feeling. “No, Y/n. We are going to talk now.” She rolled her eyes. “Fine. When I was young, I got in a fight my stupid-ass dad caused and got shot in my lower stomach. I had three surgery’s, first lost one ovary, later the second because of a mistake my bitch of surgeon had made. I lived, what was a miracle. I knew I would never have children. My mother and I left the town, it was full of bad memories anyways. We moved far away and I never told anyone about my lost organs. Happy now?” She asked, feeling sad after telling her own story. “No, why didn’t you tell me?” She took a deep breath, she knew why, she just didn’t want to say it. “Because I love you. I know you wanted children, and I didn’t want to dispoint you, I didn’t want you to leave me. I didn’t want to break again.” A tear, the first tear he had ever seen from her, rolled over her cheek. “I would never leave you. There are other options. We can adopt.” He smiled and wiped away her tear. “I love you, and for some lost organs, I wouldn’t leave you.”
A few months had passed, Spencer and Y/n were closer then before, partly because her secret wasn’t between them anymore. Spencer, however had been away a lot, recently. Y/n knew he wasn’t cheating, she just wanted to know what he was doing. So, she decided to ask during dinner. “Spence, I noticed you have been away a lot, lately. What’s up with that? Your mother?” She asked. He looked nervous, but shook his head. “No, no. I am planning something. Tomorrow, actually.” Y/n smiled and got curious. “Well, I’ve found out, so tell me.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Wait until tomorrow.”
The next day came too slow, in Y/n’s opinion. How much she begged, how much she said ‘fight me’, it didn’t matter, as he didn’t way anything and just looked amused. When the morning came, Y/n took revenge, waking up Spencer before the sun had woken up. However, he as still in a good mood. Around noon, he said she should get in the car. She did, happy to finally know what was going on. She was rather surprised when the orphanage came in view, and they stopped there. “What are we doing here?” She asked with a raised brow. Spencer only grinned and got out.
“Oh, mister Reid. This must be miss Y/l/n?” He nodded. “Yes, she would like to meet her.” He said with a smile. “meet who? What is going on?” Y/n said, beyond confused. “Isobell. We thought you’d like to meet her before you sign.” The woman said before walking off. “Who is Isobell? What are we signing for?” Spencer didn’t answer and just followed the woman. They ended in a rather large room, with a play area, a few cribs and baby stuff. The woman already had a girl in her arms. “This is Isobell. She is six months, now.” The woman said and smiled as she handed her down at Y/n. Y/n looked at the baby and confusion became realization as she looked into those blue eyes, when she felt that strong hand hold onto her jacket. “Izzy?” Y/n asked with a smile. It seemed as if the baby knew her, what she couldn’t, obviously, but it still seemed so. “I was thinking about adopting her? Since her grandmother couldn’t take her in.” Y/n smiled widely. They had talked about adopting one more lately. “Yes. I would like that.” Her eyes were filled with happy tears. “Would you want to be a part of our little family?” She asked Izzy, a tear rolling over her cheek.
Some time and research had started and ended. Isobell laying in Y/n’s arms as she walked through the house. ���Yes, this is your new house. Do you like it? I hope you do, because this is where you will live.” She entered now Izzy’s room. “This is your room. Do you like it? We also have some nice clothes. But we do really need to go shopping, don’t we?” Y/n asked. The room was soft pink and white, stickers on the windows and the white closet open. The bed with pink blankets and a purple dog stuffed toy looked ready to use. She walked away again. “I wil be home a lot, for a few months. Isn’t that great? Now we need to wait for Spencer, he is getting some food. Not for you, because that is downstairs.” She smiled at the baby who was grabbing for her finger. Y/n gave her her finger and walked down the stairs. “I think he is there.” She whispered as the door opened. Spencer came in with a plastic bag. “How’s our princess?” Spencer asked, putting down the bag. “We were alone for fifteen minutes; She is fine.” Y/n said with a smile. “You hold her, I’ll set the table.” Y/n said, handing the new father the baby. He looked down at her, but it didn’t take long for her to start crying. “You need to rock her.” Y/n said as she watched Spencer struggle. “Yeah, like that.” Y/n laughed as she put down two plates. “You’ll be a great dad.” Spencer smiled. “Not as great as you’ll be.” Y/n looked serious. “Yes, I’ll be a good dad.” She said, making him laugh. “She’s beautiful. I already love her.” She whispered, kissing her forehead. “She is prefect. Our little princess.” Spencer said, smiling down at Izzy.
I hope you liked it! Do you maybe want another part? Or a few years later? That sounds like a good idea to me, but I don’t know if you’d like it, so be sure to let me know!<3
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