#tatter fanfic

[mikaleialt]

MASTERLIST

🩵 - Bada Lee

❤️ - Minah Lee

💛 - Kim Taeyoung/Tatter

Writing for Team Bebe only, request more Bebe members please

Series:

Secret Love Song

Pt.2 🩵

Little Moments

Pt.2 ?? 🩵

One-Shots:

BMW | TATTER VER.

Smut, Suggestive 🩵💛

Caught in 4k

Fluff 🩵

The Reveal

Crack, (made for Eli @/badasgirlfriend) 🩵

Stolen Hoodie|Halloween Special

Collab with Eli @badasgirlfriend , smut 🩵

Captured Hearts

Suggestive, fluff (request) 🩵

Ride it!

Fluff, suggestive, smut 🩵

Coming Back To You

Angst, smut, fluff ❤️

Girlfriend

Suggestive, smut 🩵

[b1ackbunny]

DIRTY DANCER

CH. 0 | PROLOGUE

A Tatter smau-ish ff

pairing: tatter x fem!creator!oc (laura wen yu)

synopsis: just like the saying goes, first impressions go a long way. when laura wen yu and kim taeyoung meet in rather sour circumstances, they both develop firm beliefs that they will never truly get along. but over time, their two worlds keep colliding beyond their control and the underlying tensions begin to build. the two explore the line between love and hate, but on which side will they ultimately fall?

word count: n/a

warnings: au, no mentions of swf or smf (but mentions of the contestants), bad writing, friendly violence, a little inaccurate, suggestive language, toxic relationship tendencies, cheating, unedited

previous: laura’s rat colony

next: chapter 1

taglist (open!):

masterlist

a/n: hello party peopleee!!! welcome to the spin-off of love lies where it’s tatter x laura!!! I really hope y’all enjoy this + this doesn’t count as officially starting it so shhh updates will be on the slower side compared to love lies🧎🏽‍♀️also synopsis might be changed but keeps the same general idea bc I’m trash at writing those so don’t mind it 🙏🏽 comment if y’all wanna be added to the taglist 🫶🏽 (too lazy to change somi’s text to yeji so just vibe)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

[starogeorgina]

Tattered hears

Warning: Smut, hints of abusive marriage, cheating, swearing

Pairing: Ubbe × reader

1.01

The snap of a branch caught your attention. He was getting closer. You still made your movements, knowing if you made any noise, he’d hear you. You try to hear what direction the footsteps have gone, but the forest goes completely silent. You loved this little game of cat and mouse, you being the helpless prey and…

“Ubbe!” You squeal when he pounces from behind and pushes you forward into a tree.

You press your palms against the tree and arch your back so it’s not touching the rest of your body. Your breath hitches as the cool night air nips at your bare skin and as your lover's hand grazes against the back of your legs, then your ass cheek. He palms your ass with one hand, then another, snaking around your front to squeeze at your jaw, slipping his fingers into your mouth for you to suck on. After a moment, Ubbe lets go of you to lower his trousers enough for his cock to spring free. He rubs his cock against your cunt, which was still dripping from the previous orgasm he gave you from his mouth. He pounds into you roughly, one hand resting on the tree for balance and the other groping at your breast.

You hold your breath, waiting to see if he notices.

Ubbe abruptly spins you around so your back presses against the tree. The look on his face was hard to read. He lifts you, slides back into you, and pulls down the front of your dress so your heavy breasts are out and swaying with each thrust. Ubbe’s eyes widen as he rubs his thumb over your hard nipple. He lifts his head up to meet your gaze with a wicked grin on his face. “You are with the child again.”

“Y—yes.”

His cock reaches the sweet, soft spot that drives you crazy. You dig your fingers into the back of his neck, savoring the moment. It had been months since you last had him alone, and you weren’t sure when you’d be able to do this again. The bark from the tree scratches you, but it only adds to the thrill of fucking him when you shouldn’t be.

“Is it—”

“It’s your baby, Ubbe,” you say before clashing your lips against his.

He smiles into the kiss and says, “How many children must I give you before your husband notices, hmm?”

Muffled moans fall from your lips; you’re so lost in pleasure that it’s hard to form a sentence. You wrap your arms around Ubbe's, holding him close as he continues to thrust into you until he cums. When he’s recovered from his orgasm, he pulls out and gently places you back on the ground, then falls to his knees. Holding your skirts up, he licks at your clit until you come shaking and crying his name.

As Ubbe fixes your skirt, you catch your breath. He smirks while kissing your clothed body, breathing in your scent until he reaches your chest. He brushes his nose against yours while his fingers fix you back into the top of your dress. He raises his brows and says, “This won’t fit soon. You’ll need to size up to make space for your bump.”

“I know.”

“Does he know?”

You shrug. “I’m unsure; he doesn’t pay much attention.”

Ødger, your husband was almost loved as much as Ragner himself. He was known as a fierce warrior and was old enough to be your father. He was well respected within Kattegat by most, aside from Ubbe and his brothers. They saw who Ødger really was; the only reason they hadn’t killed him was because their mother, Aslaug, the queen of Kattegat, made them promise not to.

“When can I see you again?” You ask. After almost getting caught having sex by Bjorn, you decided to keep a distance between you to throw off any suspicions, but it was hard. Your sneaking around had started as one friend helping another, and now you were in love with someone who wasn’t your husband.

“Tomorrow,” he says, fixing himself back into his trousers. “Me and my brother are going fishing. I could take the boys with us; I get to spend time with them and see you without raising any suspicion.”

“Okay, I look forward to it.”

“I don’t know how long I can keep doing this,” he sighs. Ubbe presses his forehead against yours and says, “Leave with me.”

Your heart hammers in your chest. “What?”

“Leave Kattegat with me. We can take the boys and go.” Seeing you look hesitant, Ubbe places your hand on his chest, right above where his heart is. “You love me. I’m the father of your children, not him.”

“Ubbe…”

“Egil and Kåre are my blood, and they should be raised as such.”

Tears swell in your eyes. “Ubbe, please, we had an agreement.”

“What if I told you I wanted to end it? That I want more.” He kisses you passionately. “Elli, I would treat you right; I would give you everything you want.”

You married Ødger too young. And when you failed to fall pregnant, he became violent. The only person you shared the fear of not having children with was Ubbe. Wanting to help you, Ubbe suggested you sleep together until you were with the child. By the age of fifteen, you gave birth to your first child, Egil, and two years later, you gave birth to Kåre. Now, seven years after your secret relationship started, you are pregnant again. Throughout the years, you had hidden the way Ødger treated you, but as your sons got older, you feared for their safety.

“I’m scared,” you admit.

“If you stay with him, I’ll watch over you and the boys from a distance, but I cannot continue doing this. It’s becoming too hard; watching you fake a happy life with someone who doesn’t deserve you is painful for me. Leave Kattegat with me; we can come back one day.”

“What about your mother?”

“My brothers can protect her without me for a few years.”

Looking into Ubbe’s blue eyes, you knew what your decision would be. “I’ll go with you; as long as you promise me, you’ll always keep Egil and Kåre safe from Ødger.”

“I promise.”

—

Your day had gone well; your sons had gone fishing with Ubbe and Hvitzerk. Your eldest Egil was incredibly proud to present you with what he caught. You prepared the meal alone so it would be done faster, promising to show them how to gut a fish the next day. Aslaug had asked you to make her three new dresses in a short space of time. You still needed to collect more plants for dyes and more wool to turn into yarn.

Hearing Ødger’s voice, you told your boys to play outside but not to go off far. Ødger stands behind you, watching as you clean food off the table. He grunts, “We have thrall’s for that.”

“I don’t mind.”

Your husband pushes himself up behind you, causing you to scrunch up your face. Even the mere touch of him caused your skin to crawl. He brushes his mouth against the back of your neck. “I heard Ragnar’s sons were here earlier.”

“They took Egil and Kåre fishing.” You say. Ubbe had briefly discussed the plan he had made for you to leave together when Hvitzerk appeared, cutting the conversation short. Feeling your husbands hands start to grope at your body, you push him away and say, “Ødger, stop.”

“Stop?”

“I’m not in the mood for… that.”

“What?” He frowns.

“I don’t feel well,” you say, trying to walk by him.

Furious, he grabs hold of your wrist to stop you from leaving. “Is it not a wife’s job to please her husband?” When you don’t answer him, his grip tightens. “Speak woman!”

“I don’t feel well because I am with a child.”

Kåre runs inside, interrupting Ødger before he can reply. “Mother, Queen Aslaug is outside.”

Aslaug walks into your home with a smile plastered across her face while holding Egil’s hand. You were convinced she knew the truth about your son's parentage but would never ask. “I just came by to see how the dresses were coming along.” She walks closer to you and says, “My sons told me the good news.”

“My apologies; I haven’t finished the dresses yet.”

She gives you a knowing look, then politely talks to Ødger, but he quickly leaves. When he is gone, Aslaug mumbles something to herself and places her hand on your stomach, her smile fading as she does.

“What’s wrong?”

“I am told very little, but I know everything,” she says quietly. “And I know leaving Kattegat isn’t in your future.”

[badasgirlfriend]

Stolen Hoodie | Bada Lee Social Media Au

pairings: bada lee x shin nari

prev - next

Tatter was patiently for Bada to leave her things so they could leave to eat something. Bada tossed her bag to the ground before removing her grey hoodie and tossing it down next to it. After fixing her hair, Bada made her way towards Tatter, eager to get going and

"Let's go. I'm starving," Bada said with a smile.

Tatter nudged her playfully in response as she eagerly nodded, "Finally. I thought you'd never come."

They stepped into the busy cafeteria, filled with students from the university of arts. Tatter grabbed some tteokbokki, while Bada settled for some pizza.

Tatter let out a groan upon discovering that her food was cold to the touch. "Nooo, it's cold," she exclaimed.

Bada chuckled in response, "Well, what did you expect? For them to keep it warm just for you?" Tatter stuck out her tongue at Bada

Tatter looked around not knowing how to start the conversation shes been longing to have. She cleared her throat deciding to just go for it

"Sooo, my friend has this friend whos super pretty and hot" Tatter began to ramble but Bada wasnt paying attention to her, her eyes locked on her phone as she scrolled down "Look she's so pretty and funny

Tatter showed her a picture of Nari but Bada didnt even cast a glance "Yeah so pretty"

"Bada," Tatter whined again, her phone now locked, "You didn't even look at her!"

Bada huffed, setting down her phone. She looked up at her best friend, giving her a sigh that was both genuine and resigned. "I'm sorry, Tatter," she spoke softly, her tone being sincere yet not budging. "I'm not interested in anyone right now, and I don't plan on it."

"But, Bada-" Tatter started to say, but Bada quickly cut her off.

"Tatter, please," she said with her eyes locking with her best friend's. There was true sincerity and desperation in that single glance, as she begged for Tatter to please understand and respect her decision.

Tatter sighed, as she felt a deep sense of guilt and sympathy for her friend. She had held her tongue while Bada was with her ex-girlfriend, despite Tatter's distaste for the woman's attitude, simply because her best friend had loved her so much.

Yet now, she was confronted with the reality of that love ending, and her best friend being betrayed in that way. Tatter let out a grumble at Bada's misfortune, her feelings of hatred and hurt growing deeper in her chest as she processed the situation.

Tatter wanted nothing but for Bada to find joy and healing. Though, she also acknowledged Bada's position and feelings, which she had to respect. She had to allow her friend the time and space she needed to process and recover from such a traumatic event, regardless of how badly she wanted to see her smiling again.

Bada's question startled Tatter out of her reverie, as she turned to look at her best friend. "I'm done. Are you ready?" she asked, as Tatter glanced at the partially uneaten pizza.

"But, you didn't even finish your pizza," Tatter pointed, confused.

Bada simply shook her head, replying, "I'm not that hungry anymore." She didn't elaborate, seemingly more focused on getting ready to leave. Tatter didn't protest and got up

Unbeknownst to Bada and Tatter, Nari walked into the dance class, noting that the door was opened. She couldn't help but smirk mischeviously as she scanned the room, recalling the tweet she'd recently seen. "Fashion students are annoying, huh?" she spoke out loud, her tone dripping with sarcasm and disdain.

Nari's eyes scanned the environment, ensuring she was alone before grabbing the grey hoodie from the floor and stepping out of the open door. After confirming that nobody was nearby, she bolted for the hallway

As Bada and Tatter turned the corner, they saw their dance class door opened. However, things quickly turned sour as Bada recognized something - a girl was leaving with her grey hoodie.

"Hey, isn't that my hoodie?" Bada pointed out, her expression shifting to disbelief. Tatter followed her gaze, noting the familiar grey hoodie being taken away by a complete stranger.

Tatter couldn't control her laughter as "Y-yeah"

"Stop laughing-HEY THATS MY HOODIE" Bada yelled but the girl, was completely unaware of Bada's yells, she maintained a swift pace as she walked away.

Bada's shouts were pointless and the girl walked out from view. The dark haired girl with tall girls hoodie left no sign of recognition, her back facing Bada the entire time.

Bada didn't even try to chase her "What the fuck did I just witness"

[currentfications]

Ocean Eyes | Part 8

Pairing: Bada Lee x Producer!Reader

Synopsis: At team BEBE’s practice, the girls have a little gossip among themselves

Warning: None? But y/n is not in this chapter because I am not feeling well and just wanted to write a little something for funsies- sorry y’all ( ･᷄ὢ･᷅ )

AN: Am not good at writing conflict so the original part 8 is scraped hehe instead I’m procrastinating and decided to write a light hearted dribble with the girlies instead~ thanks for tuning in again ^_^

Previous | Next

Tatter smelled something suspicious in the air following Bada’s MIA status after their Performance Battle. Yes, the team did witness Bada landing on her chin during one of the routines- and it’s not that the BEBE member didn’t believe in said injury- it’s the fact that their team leader was oddly giddy after the fall. Like, straight up lowering-her-cap-by-the-rim-to-hide-her-smirk-lip-biting-giddy. ‘No one should be that cheerful after tearing a muscle’, Tatter had decided. ‘Therefore, Bada must be suspicious’, she further deduced.

“Look at her trying to play coy with us,” Tatter leaned over to their team’s sub-leader and muttered, frowning at the charm which the choreographer seemed to be exuding lately. Looking pointedly at their team leader, who’s currently snapping a selfie in the studio mirrors (presumably to post it on her instagram later), Tatter narrowed her eyes. Bada had always been a heartthrob to the camera and fans, but the blonde dancer had noticed a telltale spike these past weeks. “Look at all that swag, she must be overcompensating for something.”

Looking up from her stretches, Lusher followed Tatter’s gaze towards their team leader in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, whose mood did seem to be extraordinarily pleasant as of late. “Oh- Oh damn. Sorry for calling you crazy last week, you were clearly onto something.” Lusher squinted at Bada’s obnoxiously preppy footsteps in the morning. “Prancing around on a Monday? Somebody got laid over the weekend.”

‘Who could it be?’ Tatter wondered to herself as she finished warming up for the day. ‘Bada’s reaction to the bouquet and the card- what an interesting reaction.’

“Whoever it is,” Lusher pressed her palms together dramatically and said a little prayer, “thank you for keeping her happy, and our lives easier.”

“Amen to that,” Minah chimed in. “You reckon it’s someone from the show?”

“Elaborate.”

As the duo bickered among themselves regarding the identity of Bada’s newest scandal, Tatter continued to ponder over the pieces of information she had accumulated. Her eyes lit up as she recalled Latrice’s request, and something involving a skirt.

“Lusher,” Tatter interjected a debate between Minah’s team-Redy and Lusher’s team-Audrey. “Do you remember that time Bada asked to borrow your skirt?”

Lusher snapped around with speed that almost warranted whiplash. “Latrice’s friend!” Her hand flew to her phone by the dance studio’s floor length mirror, flicking through her contact list. “Aha.”

Latrice was at the shops when her phone chimed. Reading the message popping up on the phone, she chuckled a little and clocked the noseyness instantly. Within a few moments, Latrice had sent through your best ‘this is her’ photos and social media profiles to the team BEBE’s subleader.

Tatter and Lusher hummed squinted their eyes at your picture, trying to pinpoint why’d you look familiar. A shockingly good candid photo of you attending an event was pulled up on Lusher’s phone. A gray suit sat on your shoulder, accompanied by a scowl as the photographer had caught you off guard (cr 📷: Latrice). “I think I’d remember if she’s been around,” Minah wondered aloud.

“Elevator, real tall.” The usually timid Sowoen piped in unexpectedly. “The one with mother Miranda vibes.”

Now that registered in Lusher’s mind. “Wait,” Lusher zoomed in on your picture, “does Latrice have more friends in town?”

“Mhmm- I dig the delinquency,” Tatter said, still staring at the phone. “Bada finally found her match huh.”

“I’m giving my number to her,” Sowoen announced. The youngest is filled with surprise today.

Tatter and Lusher glanced at each other before bursting out into a fit of giggles. “We are pretty sure Bada is linking up with her, what do you mean you’re giving her your number?”

“I called dibs!” The youngest of the group wailed, her teammates now laughing at her flushed red cheeks.

The noise attracted their team leader, who have finally decided to investigate the shenanigans that the girls have been up to.

“What’s the gripe? Who do we hate?” The tall choreographer butted between Sowoen and Minah, expecting another Selena-Hailey debate going on among the dancers, only to be shocked when Lusher turned her phone screen to her. “Woah! How’d we get this?”

Sowoen gently prodded a finger at Bada’s shoulder. “Bada-unnie,” she quietly, but firmly, requested for Bada’s attention. “They said you’ve been linking up with her. Respectfully, that’s not cool man, I called dibs.”

The group stared wide eyed at the baby of their team, who’d suddenly found her voice in the team- and immediately chose to use it to declare her utmost disappointment at their team leader’s disrespect.

“Wait. Pause. Rewind. how did the conversation get here in the first place?”

“I find you suspicious these days,” Tatter shrugged.

“Can you still pass my number along?”

“I have no idea what’s going on but I’m loving your energy,” Lusher and Minah egged on. A ‘go Sowoen’ was muttered by one of them.

Bada stares incredulously at her teammates, “y’all this is the toxic gossip train-”

“Nope,” Tatter cuts her short, not giving Bada a chance to finish her sentence. “That’s not how that saying is used.”

“We won’t gossip if you give us the tea,” Minah proposed an alternative.

“There’s no tea!” Bada shook her head at the girls, raising a hand in defense. “Look, it’s nothing serious, and I won't let it affect my work. Can we please get back to brainstorming some Rihanna songs?”

The group gasped, Sowoen looking over at Tatter for moral support. “So there is something going on?”

“Oh come on,” Bada sighed exasperatedly, sticking her tongue against the hollow of her cheeks. “We’ve been filming for months, do you know how hard it is to find someone who can work around my schedule?”

“You have a schedule… to fuck?” Minah side-eyed her team leader. Tatter swiftly placed her hands over Sowoen’s ears. “That changed my perception of you- Not sure what kind of change- but not for the better, I can assure you.”

“Jesus, that’s not what I mean,” Bada rolled her eyes at the girls, defending her image in Sowoen’s eyes. “As much as I love dancing, a woman has needs, alright? Hey- no, don’t boo me Lusher. I saw the way you acted around Chocol. You little sl- I said don’t boo me!”

“Eh,” Tatter shrugged her shoulders and pointed her chin at the phone screen, “lesbians? Give ‘em two weeks, three more dates, and they’ll be u-hauling.”

Bada gasped, “accusatory and stereotyping.”

“Hey wanna bet that bada is going to use winning the show to get laid?” Ignoring their leader, the girls giggled amongst themselves.

“If we win-”

Minah was cut off by Bada. “-when we win.”

Sowoen gasped and pointed a finger at the team BEBE leader. “So you are planning on doing that!”

The girls watched their team leader dumbly open and shut her mouth as she attempted to come up with a witty comeback. When she drew a blank, she huffed and retreated to the speakers across the room, fiddling with the Bluetooth settings as she tried to keep her hands busy.

“Bada-unnie,” Sowoen cleared her throat before throwing in one last jab, “if it’s just a fling you won’t mind me asking her out, right?”

Tatter learned two things that practice: 1, Bada, despite contrary beliefs, bottoms (frequency still unknown, but seemingly not zero). 2, Sowoen is a milf hunter.

‘What a week!’ Tatter thought to herself. ‘And it’s only Monday.’

Tag list: @bada-lee-ily @lil-elliesgf @rubywonu @wiselight @avocifera

[stusbunker]

Tattered: The Things We’ve Been Promised and Fought for

A SPN ABO Fan-fiction Series

Featuring: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Dean, Cas/Meg

Word Count: ~5600

Warnings, etc: Rushed through rut sex, Dean disappearing to go after the Leviathans, building a bigger pack, the babies arrive (hospitals, blood, c-section, nursing), and a jump forward

Series Masterlist

Special shout out to @lastactiontricia​​ for putting up this series the entire time.

SAM

Cas was actually right. She’s fine. The babies are fine. I don’t know if I’d call it a miracle, but it’s a win and we’ll take it. The doctors asked her if she’d be interested in being included in a medical paper. She told them she’d think about it, being warned by an angel about our claim imbalance is a bit harder to reproduce in further studies.

And the last thing we really want is more questions.

She smells like sunbaked wheat fields and some kind of pastry, warm and comforting as she nuzzles me awake. Dean’s on his belly, head shoved between his pillows snoring gently. He’s dreaming vaguely, so I know we’ve got time to ourselves. I reach down and palm her ass, scooping her onto my lap as I tug the sheer nightgown up by my fingers.

She’s bare against my belly as she starts to kiss me, slow and teasing. I eat it up.

I hold her jaw in the palm of my hand slowly lap into her mouth, tasting and tempting as she gets wetter against me. She’s so solid now, the pups’re over a pound each and getting bigger every appointment. I want to keep her close, make sure she’s this healthy and safe always. Fill her up over and over so no one questions that she is spoken for, claimed by and possessing both our hearts. I need to be inside her, ten minutes ago.

She groans and then chuckles knowingly. “Your rut is coming up, I can smell it, it’s almost smokey on your skin.”

“What are we gonna do?” I ask, worry sinking in my gut.

“What we always do, fuck like crazy, hydrate. Rinse and repeat.”

“But what about the pups?”

She smirks down at me like I’m an idiot. “Sam, alphas have been fucking their pregnant omegas since the begining of time. Rut sex isn’t a threat, unless you tie me down and leave me somewhere—”

“I would nev-”

She brushes her thumb over my lips. “I know, stud, I know. I’m just saying. We’ll get through it. Dean might be pissy, but he gets his turn soon enough.”

I nod against her hold on my chin and she rewards me with a firm kiss. I hug her close and breathe in the calm she radiates, nosing against her hair. I won’t hurt her. I can’t.

She reaches between our bodies and starts stroking me back to life. I groan, watching as she rubs against my side, riling herself up just as much. I spin us on to our sides and she rolls to slot her ass against me, keeping it quiet for Dean, who’s still asleep behind me.

      "Easy," I murmur and kiss the back of her neck. I sink inside her slowly, inch by inch. She's even tighter at this angle and I close my eyes and breathe. I need to make this last for her.

       She gasps and starts rocking against me, so I pull her tighter to my chest. The smell of her slick fills the room and I love her so much I don't know what to do with it all. I cup her tit and marvel at how heavy they've gotten, nuzzling against my claim on her neck.

     I push into her in shallow rolls. My knot is hot against her ass. But we're in no hurry. She keeps sighing and squeezing me. My name coming out in little slices of whisper.

  "It's okay, baby."

   She breaks off on a moan and I brush my fingers over her nipple to give her more. But I keep it slow, building, trying not to rush anything. She pulls my fingers off her nipple and sucks them into her mouth, which is just —- then she drags them out and down to her clit. And as I slide them against that swollen nub, she clenches and my knot throbs. I gasp against her hair, trying to breathe through it all.

  Stopping myself from fucking her into the mattress, because I know she likes to be tossed around, even now.

    “Make me come first, Alpha—- Sam, please, I’m so close—,” she demands more than begs and I’m fucking trying, but she’s so wet I’m losing any purchase I have on her clit. I seal her lips around it, and rub, feeling it all hot and grinding against my hand. She’s digging her nails into the back of my neck, holding me as close as we can get from this angle and I’m going to explode.

   I teeth down the side of her face, landing on the hinge of her jaw and instead of biting her, I suck the smooth skin into my mouth. I can feel her blood drawing into the bruise, the delicious heat. Her claws are latched into my flesh and she keens, coming with a bucking thrash against my side— her legs kicking the last of the blankets off my side of the bed.

   I lick the sweat off her neck and pin her mound with the heel of my hand as I finish rutting my knot into her pulsing core. God— I swear I don’t know how I fit, but she fucking makes room for me or something because when I lock into place it’s like the first day out of the cage again. Her scent floods me with completion— contentment and I’m blinking away the tears. Mine. Ours. Us.

    I place my hand on her belly, dragging it up and down, feeling the shape of our pups inside and I pour even more pride and love into the air.

When we wake up, Dean’s gone. He left us a note saying: ‘Have a good rut. Fridge is stocked.’

*

It takes us two days to realize Cas and Bobby are gone too, between the house and salvage yard it’s a ghost town and we both know that can’t be good. But I can’t go and find anybody with a constant erection and reeking of rut. Besides, she’s got us nested down so good I’d probably lose my nuts if I even suggested we leave.

We’re both exhausted, but hydrated. And I’m eating her out like I’m going for the record. Not that Dean and I keep score, or anything. Or at least not that she knows about.

She’s riding my face and I can’t even see her tits anymore, her belly’s so big and that’s saying something because her tits have never been better. Fuck she’s so close I can taste the change in her slick— like it gets ultra concentrated just before —- I’m drowning in it, slurping it up and feeling her thighs trembling against me.

I’m hard as fucking steel and I don’t even want to touch my dick. I want to stay here on the verge of suffocation surrounded by my mate’s scent, her warmth. It makes me think of poems from school, of dying willing in your lover’s arms. Take my life, it is already yours.

And then she’s gone, slumped against the pillows and fanning herself as she catches her breath. I grin at her and wipe my mouth off with the back of my arm. She rolls her eyes at me and beckons me closer. I fall against her, hugging her middle as best I can while arching around the pups. My dick is persistent, but remains ignored along her leg.

She plays with my hair and I moan as she starts to scratch my scalp.

I can smell it on her before she voices it out loud, but still she says. “I’m worried about Dean, Sam.”

“I know, me too.”

"Do you think the Leviathans got them?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Just like that. No?” She looks at me like I’m lying to her, which I haven’t been able to manage since I got my soul back.

I shake my head, chewing on the explanation for my conviction. “It’s just, we’d feel it if something big happened, wouldn’t we? I think they’re hunting, but I don’t think it’s Def Com 6 here. Plus Cas and Bobby are with him— Dean’s gonna be fine.”

“You’re not just saying that because you want to keep fucking like rabbits, right?”

I sigh and try not to glare at her. But she smirks at me and I know she knows I was being sincere. “Very funny.”

“Dean’s not the only one that can give you shit, mister,” she teases, sinking further down my body to plop into my lap.

I nuzzle my nose against hers and she hums before she kisses me firmly on closed lips. “Even though you’re sure, I’d feel better if everyone was back home. So! Let’s see if we can get this rut over quickly then, just in case.”

I shake my head at her front of nonchalance, but agree wholeheartedly. “Can’t argue with that.”

*

They pull into the driveway two days later, dragging the impala behind them in Bobby’s truck. And they’re not alone. Cas and Meg ride in on the bed of the truck, presumably because they couldn’t be killed by something as inconsequential as an accident. And there’s Charlie, who I’ve only really talked to on the phone, looking a little dazed, but enthusiastically climbing out of the cab to shake hands with Y/N and me. Both Bobby and Dean look like they haven’t slept in days, and Dean’s got a shiner and his new coat is still covered in Leviathan juice.

“So?”

“We got him, Sammy. Dick’s dead. They’re all gone.”

“What, seriously? How?!”

“Bone of a nun, straight to the neck,” Dean gestures and grins, wagging his eyebrows. “I stuck it to ‘em.”

Our Omega, having enough of Dean’s antics, pulls him in for a proper scenting, opening his jacket and looking him over as he rests his hands on her hips, widening his stance so he is low enough to look her in the eye. “I’m fine, honey, really.”

“Tell me everything, from the beginning, like how you ran out on us without any way of knowing where you were!” She fumes, shaking him by the collar and pushes him away. Dean barely has to step back to withstand the weak force of her shove. He sighs and rolls his neck to look at me for back up. I hold up my hands and claim no loyalty in this spat.

He flips me off.

“Look, Sammy needed you here and, well, we got word it was time to move on the head honcho, so we took it.”

“What happened to Baby?”

Meg spoke up for the first time, husky voice deliberately unmussed. “That would be me. Drove her through their little glass welcome screen. Lucky me, I got to be a diversion.”

The story slowly unravels, Charlie sneaking Dean and Cas in. Cas identifying the real Dick Roman or the head chomper wearing his face. Saving the prophet Kevin, who they somehow lost when Crowley stepped in to help. And Cas flying Dean out of the blast zone just in time before the Leviathans got literally sucked back into Purgatory.

“So, uh, we’ve still got some clean up to do. Finding the kid. But I think —” Bobby explains before he gets cut off by Cas.

“We did good.”

“You’re damn right we did,” Dean agrees, holding hands with the mother of our children as we all drink and eat around the large banquet table Bobby built for us.

I can’t believe it’s over. “Well, Crowley can’t be too hard to get a lead on. We’ll get Kevin back to his mom.”

And just like that the mood turns sober. Before long, Bobby and Y/N take Charlie back to his house to help get a room ready for her to crash in until she gets her next move figured out. Which leaves Meg, Cas, Dean and I continuing to sip our drinks and shoot the shit.

“Look at you Winchesters, properly domesticated and everything,” Meg teased, eyeing the beams above her head and taking in the quality of Dean and Bobby’s craftsmanship.

“I know, right?” I agree, unable to stop the heat that burns across my cheeks.

“Awww, it’s okay, Sam. Maybe we all deserve a little bit of happiness this side of the apocalypse,” Meg says to Cas more than anyone. Cas, who had been eerily quiet, suddenly looks up and they lock eyes with something earnest and maybe a little dirty passing between them.

I clear my throat before Dean gets offended, because he’s already weirded out that we broke the warding for Meg. “You guys have any plans? Cas, any word from Daphne?”

“Uh, no, unfortunately when I didn’t return promptly from my first visit, she slowly realized that my abilities couldn’t be the claim to fame she was seeking. So, we parted ways and as I couldn’t be legally married as I don’t exist as a citizen, we didn’t really have to annul anything.”

“Heartbreaker,” Meg taunts.

“Wow, that’s good, Cas. I guess. One less loose end,” Dean agrees.

“I know you’ve been hanging out with Bobby a lot, thinking about sticking around? The more the merrier, right Dean?” I ask pointedly.

“I hadn’t really thought about it. I need to talk to Heaven, see if I can begin to atone. But it would be nice to have a homebase of sorts on Earth,” Castiel replies almost shyly.

“Well, you know where to find us, man. Because until those pups are out and until they’re walking, we’ve got one job to do,” Dean says and it all hits me. We don’t have to keep hunting. Sure, we can, but we don’t have to. We can have a life. Bobby will put us to work and we’ll do what we can for money, but once Kevin is safe. We’re just gonna be dads.

It’s unreal.

DEAN

It’s been two weeks since we took down Dick and yet Meg and Cas and hell, even Charlie have stuck around. Though Bobby won’t let Meg in his house, considering she tried to kill him at least once. But at this point, who hasn’t she tried to kill?

Charlie’s fascinated with all things hunting and the demon-angel team up sounds like something out of one of her video games so she can’t stop asking questions. Bobby’s actually having a lot of fun having her around, think she’s growing on the old bastard by sheer earnestness. And there’s our Omega, who is about fit to burst. She’s gone through the babies’ room everyday trying to figure out what we forgot, what we’re missing. 

Her waddling around like that makes me stupid and proud, but also just so damn happy that I start putting my foot in my mouth because it all seems too good to be true. Sam hates it when I piss her off, but it’s not like it’s intentional. I just can’t leave well enough alone.

The current argument is over names. Because everybody’s healthy in there, so we start getting serious about these pups we’re gonna meet any day now.

“Do not say John again— I will smack you,” Y/N growls.

“Dean, yeah, man, come on,” of course Sam agrees with her.

I know my dad’s name comes with a lot of baggage, but I still miss the son of a bitch anyway. Just not quite why she’s got such a vendetta against it, it’s a classic name. 

I grumble and concede this time. “Okay, fine, what do you like?”

“Jasper or maybe Jeremiah,” she replies, not bothering to look up from her little notebook that she has them all listed out on.

“Can we stay away from Pop culture names? Jasper is really popular lately,” Sam asks delicately, because yeah, we’re not doing the vampire name game, but still I hold my breath waiting for her to explode.

She sighs and crosses it off the list.

I see how tired she is and rub her knee under the table. “How about we go back to the girls’ names? Huh? Maybe if we get a small enough pool, we can narrow down the boy’s name better.”

We discuss names for another hour. Nobody agrees on any three names. But there’s some progress. Sort of.

Sam makes fajitas and I go and find Cas, even though he doesn't eat, gotta let everybody know it’s dinner time. He’s standing in one of the fields that I’m pretty sure don’t belong to Bobby, but I’m not about to go tattling either.

“Hey, man, soup’s on.”

Cas turns on me, all squinty eyed and concerned. “Hello, Dean.”

“Can you grab Meg and tell her to wash up for dinner? Sam says it will be ready in a minute here. I’ll go tell Charlie and Bobby.”

He walks with me towards the main house, but something must be up because he’s extra quiet. Not like listening to the universe or angel radio quiet, just thoughtful. He doesn’t go looking for Meg and soon we are stomping up the back steps in through Bobby’s kitchen.

“Dean? How did you know you were ready to take a mate?” Cas' question comes out of left field, but it also makes a lot of sense with the way he’s been acting.

“Uh— I don’t think I was ready, man. I mean, look at us, we kind of fucked things up before we really got it right. Why?”

“I also seemed to have—- fucked things up. When I lost my memories— with Daphne. But I realize now that I probably wouldn’t be able to make a human mate happy.” Cas looks up at me with a wavering dare in his eyes.

“Oh, shit!” I can’t believe he means—

“Don’t tell Sam, not yet. I just have begun thinking about pursuing her.”

“Yeah, man, I get it. But what about making amends with Heaven? A demon mate can’t be too far down on the No-No list.”

“Mating in general is considered beneath us, Dean.”

I can’t help the heat of shame that rises up, gaping at my best friend like a middle schooler during health class. But Cas has been in the trenches with us mud monkeys long enough, I guess I had forgotten just how holy he was. Maybe it’s also because we’re standing in Bobby’s too small kitchen and I can feel the old man’s eyes on me like an overzealous librarian.

“You got a reason for busting in here with your locker room talk or just felt the need to make everyone else uncomfortable?” Bobby glares at me then looks at Charlie who just waves innocently.

“Uh, food?” I swallow and try again. “Dinner’s ready.”

By a fucking miracle, we all make it to our place without more oversharing on anybody’s part.

*

Everything is so loud, but it’s like background loud, sitting next to a horror movie showing loud. Which is fitting, because there’s a lot of blood. And it’s getting harder to see, but I can’t do anything about it because my hands are full.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m your dad— one of ‘em anyway.” I swear she turns and looks at me, like she knows the sound of my voice. But her eyes are squeezed shut and she’s still screaming. And I’m crying worse than she is, because she’s here and she’s healthy and Y/N is a fucking miracle worker. She’s perfect. 

They’re all perfect.

Sam’s got the boy while the doctors clean up his little girl. She had a cord wrapped around her neck, but they could see everything once they got in there, so she’s fine. Sophia. That’s the name Sam and Y/N picked for her. Wisdom. It fits. 

I’m bouncing Joni, trying to get her to calm down as they put our Omega back together again. I walk over to where her face is behind the curtain, show her how amazing she is. How awesome our pup is. Pups are.

“Hey, Mama,” I can’t keep the tease out of my voice, I’m just so fucking happy. “Somebody wants to say hi.”

“Hi!” She sobs out, reaching as best she can with her arms pinned down to kiss a tiny forehead. 

The nurses clear some room on her chest, get her arms free so she can hold her, skin-to-skin they say. Once I know she’s got Joni good, I go and see how Sophie’s doing. Her cry is reedy, softer than her sister’s but still breaks my heart wide open. Once the nurse says I can, I scoop her up and hold her tight against my shoulder, whispering to her as we bounce-step over to her mom. 

“Sorry, sweetheart, we had to give Mama a minute. But now we’ve got you. Everybody’s safe.” I tell her as much as myself. I lock eyes with Sam as he is scenting Jimmy’s dark head. Leave it to our son to come out with a full head of hair. 

He’s not talking, but I can tell Sam’s just as much a mess as I am. I walk over and show off Sophie and he hands me our boy in exchange. He’s all wide eyed and looking around at everybody. Never seen a baby so alert. But I’m guessing that will change. These three are gonna put us all through the ringer— fill our lives with the new and the unknown.

It’s mesmerizing. And terrifying.

It’s a long time before they move us into a family room, they don’t even let us carry them down the hall. Instead we have three little plastic boxes on wheels that we push, along with a nurse, behind Y/N’s gurney. They help her figure out how to feed them. And I know Sam’s listening to all the technical crap about latching and pumping. 

But I am just amazed at her, exhausted as she is, cooing down at our pups as they nurse. Joni’s the smallest, but they all made it long enough to not have to worry about being hooked up to anything. Which I am gonna call Cas out on later, because the odds were near impossible on avoiding a NICU stay with triplets, but somehow we managed it.

Joni and Jimmy have been burped and are sleeping in their little blanket burritos tucked into a single bassinet. They’re used to close quarters and I can already tell they’re better together than apart. Sophie sleeps against Y/N chest, too tired from being born to really eat yet, but the nurse says it’s normal. Sam grabbed a shower and eventually Y/N will get a turn, but she’s got to worry about all the stitches and staples, so it might be just sponge baths for a few days.

I try not to get excited about helping her with those. 

We’ve got a lot more things to worry about now. And that kind of thinking got us here in the first place. I lose the last layer of scrubs and  leave the bathroom door open so I can hear them if they need me, if a nurse catches a peek, who cares at this point. Finally, we’re all clean and wedged on her bed, a baby a piece and everything quiets down. We shift and scent and just exist together for the first time, all six of us. God, it’s a whole pack now. We’re a real family.

Nothing will ever be better than this.

Five Years Later

Bobby

If I wasn’t already losing my hearing, the shrieking coming out of the backseat would have done it. I pull up to the drive in and wait for the carhop to come and take our orders. Don’t tell Rufus, but this minivan handles pretty damn well.

“Grandpa? Can I have poppers?” Joni asks like it’s normal for a little girl to be ordering deep fried peppers.

“No, doll, we’re having dinner at home. This is just a quick treat, but don’t go telling on me. Your dad will be all whiney about ruining your dinner and your daddy will be mad we didn't bring him home anything.”

They all giggle. 

The waitress taps on my window and I tell her, “four rootbeer floats please. Extra napkins if you got ‘em.”

“Sure thing, hun. That’ll be eighteen eighty.”

I give her a twenty and a couple of singles, waving away the offer of change.

“Thanks, it’ll be right up.”

I can feel them all fidgeting in their little booster seats, so I turn around and unbuckle myself to talk to them better. “You have fun today?”

Sophie’s staring out the window and hugging her little ratty stuffed rabbit. But she smiles and nods. Joni and Jimmy are both bellowing, trying to be louder than the other. “Yes! It was so fun!”

“Good.” I say, trying not to get too pleased with myself.

The mugs arrive and the pups are sticky from head to toe by the time we hand them back to the carhop, mostly empty. The extra napkins get wadded up and shoved into a grocery bag Y/N keeps on a little hook in here. Shoulda grabbed some baby wipes before we left. Friggin’ evidence is gonna get us all in trouble.

I check that their belts are tight and that Jimmy can reach both of his sisters’ hands if he needs to. Once we’re all set for the drive home, Sophie’s already nodding off. Then Jimmy conks out. Silly Miss Joni singsongs herself to sleep just as I’m pulling into the driveway. It’s nice out. We’ll leave them in there with the windows down until they wake up. With three of ‘em we’ve learned to pick our battles.

And the fresh air and afternoon sunshine will be a better way to wake up than yanking them out of their seats only to try and force them back to sleep after a fright and a carry upstairs.

I let myself in and hang up the van keys by the rest of them. Somebody’s in the library and somebody's snoring upstairs. I go warn Sam to finish his chapter outside on the porch and then make my way back to my place. I pass Charlie’s little trailer and don’t bother to knock, she’s hunting with Jody and the girls this week, but make sure she didn’t leave any lights on.

Cas and Meg’s place is aways in the back, more of a house than a barn, since we did it from the ground up. But it suits them, as much as they come and go. Then there’s Garth and Bess, never figured I’d have nearly a full set of monsters for neighbors, but life is nothing if not surprising. They’re expecting their first pup in a couple of months. I’ve been working on fixing up an old conversion van for them, but parts take forever. It’s funny, never saw that dipshit so normal as he is as a werewolf.

Kevin stops by from time to time, but that’s between research positions. He graduated from college and is working on a doctorate already. His mother calls me once a month whether I’ve heard from him or not. I don’t hate the check ins. 

The birthday party is tomorrow, giving everybody more time to make it in.

I can’t believe the kids are already five. Starting school next fall and everything. It makes me feel every inch a grandpa. Because I remember when Sam was that size and now he’s got his own to worry over. It’s been years, but it feels like yesterday. I check that the gifts I have tucked away for them are still safely hidden, because the rascals are curious little things. Had to move the Christmas presents to Jody’s after last year, got into them a whole week before I even had my tree up.

*

“Okay, time! Time. Sophie, it’s Jimmy’s turn,” Dean braves the terribly aimed swings of the old broom and catches it before she swipes into the snack table. Jimmy’s been waiting with his blindfold looped around his neck. The crepe paper donkey is swinging idly where Y/N holds the rope over the branch.

Everyone here knows this is going to take awhile. But without any other kids in line, we’re gonna let them have their fun.

“Good job Sophia!” Cas calls through his hands. She peeks out of her blindfold and groans at the fully intact pinata.

“Jimmy! Whack it good!” Joni crows and everyone cheers along with her. Sam collects Sophie’s blindfold and ties it around Joni’s neck as she waits for her turn. Sophie slumps over and leans against me like she’s run a marathon.

I don’t bother asking her what’s wrong, she’s a pouter, but she’s not showy about it. She thinks she didn’t do a good enough job, so I’m just gonna hold her while she watches her brother fall over himself missing the moving target too. Joni gets a good couple thwacks in, but the dumb donkey’s still holding all the candy when Dean decides it’s his turn.

“Now you watch, your daddy isn’t gonna be able to get it either.” And bless her, Y/N kept that pinata out of Dean’s reach the entire two minutes we gave him. Then it became a taunting exercise between the adults. After enough of them had laughed themselves stupid, I stood up, setting Sophie down gently. 

“Alright, idjits, it’s time for sudden death. No blindfolds, only spinning and let the birthday pups get their candy.” Being the pack elder has its perks and times like this is one of them.

Joni teeters over with laughter as she swings. She catches the rope around the broom handle and pulls the whole thing down with little resistance from Y/N’s grip. She beats the cardboard animal within an inch of recognition and finally a hole caves in and the other two pounce in for the candy as soon as the weapon is out of play.  Dean hands it over their heads to Sam. 

Jimmy keeps trying to stuff candy in his pockets, but they’re too full and he’s losing more than he’s saving, meanwhile the girls just use their shirts like aprons. We are all bent over in tears, but the kids have their haul and nobody is gonna forget this party. Between Jody’s pictures and Meg’s recording on her phone, we’ll be able to bring it up for blackmail in the future.

Dean grabs the last handful of candy out of the carcass before he tosses it on the woodpile for next burning day. He doesn’t share, figures.

“Alright, before you go on about singing and cake, I’m handing out my gifts first,” I announce. “Over here you rascals.”

I march across the yard and head to a little strip of grass along the tree line. The kids are racing after me, I can hear their mother yelling at them to be careful since they’re in their nice clothes for the party.

But it’s an outdoor party and she should have known better, if you ask me.

I stop beside a big lump of canvas and wait for their little legs to catch up. I look down at them and give them the rules. “You have to take turns. You cannot cut in front of each other. And you do not use these on one another either, ya hear me?”

“Yes, Grandpa.” Three little voices nod, half listening half wiggling with excitement.

“Okay.” I pull the cloth off the target and step back hiding the packages behind my back.

“Ooooooo!”

“A target?”

“Are we shooting it?”

“No, guns are for grown ups. But if you get good, maybe you can hit it with one of these.” I fan out the bundles in front of me, letting them each pick one. Sam’s close now, eyeing me and I know what he’s thinking. But it’s not about hunting, not that kind of hunting at least. He grabs up the wrapping paper as the kids shred it to pieces to keep it from blowing away and becoming litter.

“A bow and a quiver!” Jimmy exclaims.

“I’m gonna be the Green Arrow!” Joni declares.

“I’m Huntress,” Sophie decides.

“I’m gonna be Hawk-guy.” Jimmy finally adds after much thought.

Dean chuckles. But Charlie calls over, “It’s Hawkeye, buddy.”

“Right. Hawkeye. I didn’t know that one either,” Y/N adds, shrugging.

I get them for the next hour, showing them how to crook the bow, and notch the arrow. They listen better for me than anybody, but seeing them this hooked on my every word made my damn month. They’re naturals, even if they don’t have the arm strength yet. We let them shoot from ten feet. Then finally Garth and Charlie convince them it’s time for cake.

I let it go. Because I know I will have them crawling through my backdoor everyday until they’re pros. It’s a selfish gift, but it’s an even trade. Let their parents off the hook about preparing them for everything out there, while giving me an excuse to spend more time with them. When they’re old enough we’ll go after turkeys for Thanksgiving, not wendigos or vampires.

They’ll have the skills and none of the burden their folks had at their age. 

I nod at Y/N as she sets three mini cakes down on the table, letting them each blow out a matching number five. She’s a good mom and I can’t help but be a little proud about that fact. She’s not mine, but she always had a piece of my heart. Then there’s those two knuckleheads that somehow manage to keep her healthy, happy and safe. I couldn’t hope for any better for any of them. And I’m just grateful I’m still around to see it all happen.

Tell me what you think?

Tagging:  @idreamofdeanie​​​ @stoneyggirl2 @delightfullykrispypeach​​​    @dolphincliffs​​​ @flamencodiva​​​ @crashdevlin​​​ @dontshootmespence​​​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​​​  @rockhoochie​​​ @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis​​​ @cosicas-cuquis​​​ @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @defenderrosetyler​​​ @ericaprice2008  @wingedcatninja​​​ @akshi8278 @itmighthavebeenintentional​​​ @smi727​ @princessmisery666​​ @impalaslytherin​​

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: I let you hurt me every day,' Jaskier thinks, but doesn’t say. That’s his fault, not Geralt’s. A wiser man would run away from this kind of heartache, but Jaskier’s never exactly had great self-preservation instincts. Besides, if Jaskier gets to have this – sitting naked in a forest with his fingers in Geralt’s hair – then wisdom can absolutely and categorically just fuck off. Or, Geralt and Jaskier try to fuck their way through Geralt's intimacy issues. It doesn't exactly go as planned.

Author: @twisting-vine-x

[renawaywithme]

I don't think. I've ever been so emotional reading an Fic. I think I've lost count of how many times I've been brought to tears reading these, which is a good thing!! I just joined the TMNT fandom after watching the 2012 show. I just happened to come across Tattered Remains and Frayed and I don't think I can express how absolutely amazing it is. The Storytelling. The raw emotions. Everything is just so AMAZING!!! I'm in absolute love with it and I'm obsessed with these fics. Just the characterization of the 2012 turtles oh man, having them darker than their actual show counterparts is amazing! I can't wait for future chapters and to read more. I love these boys so much and I can only hope things turn out well for them.

KAJKSJSKSHS THANK YOU SO MUCH

Making the 2012 boys slightly... darker?? Was a risk I wanted to take while being in college and learning about trauma. They've never had a real break to work through those issues or heal and a lot of times when people are just constantly running, they don't see how tired they are until they stop. And yes, despite everything they are going through, they will have a happy ending ‼️ I am huge for hurt/comfort tropes, no pain, no gain. Thank you so much for supporting the story and liking it as much as I have liked writing it!

[ssivinee]

📂 BEBE

𝖡𝖺𝖽𝖺 𝖫𝖾𝖾

📁 𝙿𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝 ↳ 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙼𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚕! 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 📁 𝙼𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚕 ↳ 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙹𝚊𝚖 𝚁𝚎𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌! 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 📁 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙶𝚊𝚖𝚎, 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚛 ↳ 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛! 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 📁 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 ↳ 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙹𝚊𝚖 𝚁𝚎𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌! 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 📁 𝙱𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝙴𝚗𝚟𝚢 ↳ 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙻𝚎 𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚖! 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 📁 𝙴𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕 ↳ (𝚙𝚝 2 𝚘𝚏 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙶𝚊𝚖𝚎, 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚛) 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛! 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 📁 𝚆𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 ↳ 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 📁 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 ↳ (𝚙𝚝 2 𝚘𝚏 𝚆𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝) 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 📁 𝙼𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙱𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚍 ↳ 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝙴𝙱𝙴! 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 📁 𝚃𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 ↳ 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝚅𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚝! 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 📁 𝙼𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌 ↳ 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 📁 𝙴𝚕𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚍 ↳ 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 📁 𝚁𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ↳ 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝖫𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗄𝖺 𝖫𝖾𝖾 𝖲𝖾𝗈𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀

📁 𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚎 ↳ 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚘𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚡 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝖳𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗄𝖺 𝖪𝗂𝗆 𝖳𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀

📁 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 ↳ 𝙺𝚒𝚖 𝚃𝚊𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚡 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚛! 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 📁 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚎𝚜 ↳ 𝙺𝚒𝚖 𝚃𝚊𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚡 𝙱𝙴𝙱𝙴! 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝖬𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗁 𝖺𝗄𝖺 𝖫𝖾𝖾 𝖬𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗁

𝚃𝚘 𝙱𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚍 …

𝖲𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌

📁 𝙻𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙴𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 ↳ 𝙱𝙴𝙱𝙴! 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙼𝚘𝚖! 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 [𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝚄𝙴𝙳] 📁 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙶𝚘𝚍𝚜 ↳ 𝙱𝙴𝙱𝙴! 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙾𝙲 𝚃𝚎𝚊𝚖! 𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 [𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝚄𝙴𝙳]

Error - More to be released soon…

[burpfrog]

Beauty and a Beat | Prologue

I am not a good writer and have the tendency to abandon works, apologies in advance. Also this is me shamelessly simping for Bada Lee after watching one episode of SWF2, so it will be cringe and it will be insufferable but alas here we are. And yes I have no ounce of originality so I can’t even come up with a decent title, so let’s go with this one for now~

The chittering in the dance studio’s elevator faded as a hand reached in, reopening the screeching metal door. “Sorry I didn’t see you there,” the tallest of the group muttered. A looming figure entered, smiling politely. “You’re alright.”

The girls exchanged a look as they silently sized up the newcomer, one more amused than surprised. It’s not everyday that they meet a female dancer taller than her after all. The elevator stopped at 4th floor and she marched out, but not before nodding courteously at the group.

As soon as the door shut the chattering resumed excitedly, new blood are always a welcoming change. The fox-eyed blonde turned to the leader of their group and teased, “Ah Bada, seems like you have competition,” she said as the rest of the group chimed in with agreement.

Bada laughed at the jive, rubbing Tatter on the head. “Okay I promise I’ll get her number for you once she’s here to stay.”

“Oh come on, I barked up the wrong tree once-” Tattee stuttered, flustered. “Can you please just let it go already?”

The group bursted out into laughter. “Yeah well it seems like we have a second walking tree,” Lusher joined the teasing, gesturing at the door.

“Nah I’m not going be asking Ms. Steve Jobs wannabe out,” Tatter refused, still blushing. “Bada’s the one who’s into that turtle-neck-oversized-blazer type.” The group nodded in agreement, “Actually, she does look like a rip-off of you, but much more corporate looking.”

“I wonder what’s her dance style, hopefully we get a new member soon,” said Bada, “hopefully she can take over some of my classes. I can really use some time off after all these jam packed schedules.”

I’m sleep deprived and not the best at checking before posting, so thanks for reading - and here to hoping that I am able to edit after posting (I haven’t been on this site since Yahoo removed p*rn from here…)

[mikaleialt]

NIQUE YOU JUST DROP THE BEST FUCKING TATTERS SMUT AND A FUCKING CRUSH PLOT I CANT FORGET NOW

Also I just imagine Taeyoung like this; makeup and outfit 😩🙇🏽‍♀️

OMG THAT’S THE OUTFIT I’M IMAGINING TATTER IS WEARING TOO AJDGSGHSHDJSM

[b1ackbunny]

LAURA WEN YU’S RAT COLONY !

— tatter x fem!creator!oc lore (basically)

next: prologue

masterlist

LAURA (23) — content creator && model under ESteem group. born in china, moved to the usa at 4, and moved to south korea after college to be with her sister && explore new things. makes varied content, but has recently grown in views for her web-series “laura tries things” and her interviews with different idols/celebs. frequently models for designer brands (e.g.: calvin klein, louis vui, ysl, etc.)

MAIN SIDE CHARACTERS !

JIA MEI (25) — dancer/choreographer under the jam republic agency. laura’s older sister, roommate, and best friend. strawberry lover, film buff, && hopeless romantic. supports laura’s shopping addiction.

SUYIN (23) — content creator based in china. met laura at a party they were both invited to in late 2019. has been in a long distance relationship with laura for almost a year. a little manipulative but laura lets it slide.

YUQI (24) — member of girl group (G)I-DLE. met laura at an event in mid 2019 and instantly clicked. one of laura’s closest friends and ties with hyunjin as her biggest hater. shuts down laura’s delusions most of the time.

HYUNJIN (23) — member of boy group STRAY KIDS. met laura at an interview she conducted for his group in early 2021 and almost immediately bonded. one of laura’s closest friends and ties with yuqi as her biggest hater.

YEJI (23) — member of girl group ITZY. met laura through her sister in 2020 and grew very close since then. one of laura’s closest friends and often referred to as her twin. one of the people laura confides in the most.

YOUNGJAE (ERIC) (22) — member of boy group THE BOYZ. met laura through hyunjin in late 2021 and became friends. the co-founder of laura’s drama club (made-up club that’s like a book club but for watching dramas).

OTHERS AS MENTIONED !!

a/n: soooo cast list has been made!! this ff is going to mesh with my bada one (called love lies go check it out!) bc they’re in the same au so I’m not going to fully start this one until it gets to the part where i want it to start in this one, in the other one 🧍🏽‍♀️I probably make no sense but pls bear with me 🙏🏽 (replaced somi w my girl yeji btw)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

[vorpalwyrm]

doodle of one of the (multiple) petsite ocs i've created. please help i am drowning in them theyre up to my neck i cant br—

[ character uses he/him pronouns! ]

[badasgirlfriend]

Stolen Hoodie | Bada Lee Social Media AU

pairings: bada lee x shin nari

prev - next

a/n: sorry for that lame joke ik it was too much... TOO MUCH OF DEEZ NUTS (sorry again)

ALSO ill be making a tag list in case u havent seen my other post so reply if u wanna be added

[paradlselost]

. ⋮ ULTRAVIOLENCE .ᐟ ֹ

doctor phosphorus x female reader

⎨ 𝐀𝐍 ⎬ fun fact i’ve wanted to eat uranium for a long time so he is the worlds most perfect man to me . also sorry for not writing anything in so long , i’ve been busy and jumping from hyperfixation to hyperfixation for a while now as you can see by my unfinished mouthwashing fanfics . but i watched the show last night and he is my favorite and there’s almost nothing about him so i had to . enjoy !

⎨ 𝐂𝐖 ⎬ monster ! reader , mentions of body dysmorphia and imposter syndrome / depersonalization , religious trauma + blasphemy ( cause i can’t help myself ) specifically in catholicism , catholic rituals , depictions of eating raw meat , depictions of wounds , hurt / comfort , depictions of cannibalism , described body horror . smut : fire / burning kink , dry humping , fingering , male moans ( yay ! ) .

3 . 1 k words ++ not beta read .

PART TWO OUT NOW : CINNAMON GIRL

Eyes flutter closed, allowing darkness to wash over you. Soft sounds of birds chirping fill the room around you, drowning out the constant humming of the chip in the back of your neck. You’re hyper aware of everything, the fabric of the blanket that covers you and the cold air that stings your nose as you breath in; chest rising and falling in rhythm.

You remember how reluctant the guards that watched over you were to allow you the sounds you so desperately needed to sleep, not believing your pleas to quiet your constantly racing mind. Nearly a week without rest made them understand rather quickly, when, despite the power dampener locked around your neck, talons began to grow out of your hands and your spine contorted with the growing of fleshy wings.

It seems you’ve been blessed, something has gone right for once in your life as you’re now able to change the sounds to whatever you wish instead of the constant rushing of waves. Secretly, you’re happy to have been put on this mission. Grateful, even, as much as you could be to a monster like Waller. Perhaps you could even forgive her for the electrocution you’d been put through.

Weasel kips at the foot of your bed, stuck to your side since the day you had snapped at him: barred your fangs and shoved him away from you. Something about the beast had been so pathetic that you ended up apologizing and giving a hesitant scratch to the back of his ears. He’s good company, loyal if not a bit of a flea concern, and he listens when you speak to him unlike many of the others in the special containment of Belle Reave.

Nina was kind, as well, perhaps a bit out of her element, though. You’d once tried to make small talk with GI but that ended as quickly as it had started with his sudden interrogation on if you were a Nazi. And god, you wouldn’t dare bring anything up to the others.

Crickets chirped through the headphones you had been allowed to wear, owls hooting and birds calling. A forest at night, a beautiful scene you were sure you wouldn’t be able to see freely again, but you do not indulge in those negative thoughts. You can already feel it looming over you, exhaustion and stress mingling to bring it out. The thing that stirrs inside you, monstrous and ugly. Its hungry, and you know better than to ignore that hunger lest the Weasel that kips at the foot of your bed be more than a scrap of fur.

So, you stirr. Sitting up in the bed you remove your headphones and push the blanket from your form quietly as to not disturb him. He’s almost cute when he sleeps, like a crusty old dog that resembles more of a tattered blanket than a pet. Regardless, you close the door quietly behind you and walk down the long winding hallways of the palace. Truthfully, you had never been anywhere quite as lavish, never had a king sized bed all to yourself or a private bathroom. Its almost too big, especially at night when the shadows dance up the walls and cast an ominous glare over just about everything.

You know better than to gaze at your shadow as you pass the large walls with royal family portraits. Unworthy, unrighteous, evil. The rosary marks still pierce your skin, forced to pray this thing away day and night till your palms and knees bled. You’ve grown resentful towards the being that shares your body. It makes demands of you, to feast, a single slip can give way and allow it to control you. Some kind of devil, the reason you’re here in the first place.

Your mouth had begun to hurt in your search for the kitchen, gums beginning to bleed and pool against the base of your tongue.. You’d have thought you’d be used to this by now, that your world wouldn’t continue to be turned upside down, that the Lord’s Prayer wouldn’t recite involuntarily in your mind as it all starts over again. You stumble over your own two feet, finding yourself silently wishing you had that power dampener around your neck once again. Your stomach rumbles more.

It feels like an eternity till you finally find the kitchen, thankful that all the servants had retired for the night so you can spit your mouthful of blood into the sink. Crimson stains the marble, dripping from your chin as you turn on the faucet to wash your mouth of the taste. Your fangs had grown in now, taking space in front of your canines and piercing uncomfortably against your bottom lip whenever you close your mouth. Hunger gnaws at your stomach as if beginning to consume the lining itself.

You throw open the fridge door with little care of the noise it makes as it slams into the counter beside it. Eyes scour for something, anything, till you land on a large, raw goose marinating for tomorrow nights feast. Shaky hands reach out to grab it, allowing the glass tray it sits in to fall to the ground and shatter. The shards prick at your bare feet, cutting and marring your skin with more blood, though you don’t seem to notice.

Fangs sink into the bird, soft flesh breaking at the intrusion. The taste is almost euphoric, never had you tasted a meat so rich and fatty; your body had gotten far too used to the awful prison food they served in containment. You rip out a large chunk; tendons harshly snapping from the body as you swallow nearly without chewing. Your eyes gloss over as you devour the bird, reaching in to grab at the sausage links that had also been waiting to be cooked the next day.

You hadn’t realized how much you had truly lost yourself till a harsh green glow halted your feast. Head whipping around to greet the skeletal face of Phosphorus, a hiss falling from your lips that still wrapped around a chunk of meat like a food insecure cat. He was your least favorite of all, acting as if he knew everything simply because he had been a doctor before his incident. Not like it mattered in Belle Reave, and certainly not in the monster sector they were kept in.

“Woah. Calm down, I’m not takin’ that from you.” A huff came from him, head tilted to the side as he watched you, almost intrigued with the way you acted. He simply stepped past you, walking over to the sink and simply staring down at the blood that had graced the basin. “This yours?”

The link fell from your mouth, rolling into the shards of glass and crimson as the fangs retracted back into your gums, eyes returning to normal. All you could do was stare at him, as if he had asked the most stupid question in the world. Smartest man in the room your ass.

“Who else’s would it be?”

“Don’t know, thats why I’m asking. Flag and I got into a fight earlier and I totally won, so I’m just wondering.”

“Oh.”

He leans back against the countertop, facing you now, the sleeves of his hoodie protecting him from burning through the granite. Part of him had always intrigued you, in a way, everyone but Weasel had a signature outfit; but him? A hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. It was almost comical how simple he was, though you supposed there wasnt much he could keep. A step towards him, wincing at the sudden realization of what you had done.

His gaze followed yours, looking down to the glass and blood that gushed from your feet and ankles. The light from the fridge and his green glow illuminated the space between you two, dancing off the shards on the floor. Your mouth was covered as well, sloppily wiped onto your cheeks as you had feasted. God, you looked a mess, but the pain distracted you from that fact. Biting your bottom lip to muffle a pathetic whimper of pain.

“Cmon don’t cry, what’s a little glass among friends?”

“I am not crying.”

If he had eyes to roll no doubt he would’ve. Stepping over to you and hooking an arm around your shoulder to help you stand without any warning. Your first instinct is to fight him off, to tell him no and shout at him, but you don’t. Instead, you lean into the touch and allow him to help you hobble up the stairs to, what you originally assume to be your room, but soon discover he’s guiding you into his, and then, into his bathroom.

Theres something almost intimate about the way he grabs your hips to help you onto the counter so he can patch you up. You hadn’t asked this from him, but it didn’t seem to matter much now as he filled a bucket with warm soapy water, dunking a rag in a few times and using the help of tweezers to pick the glass out of your skin. You do your best not to flinch, using the time to preoccupy yourself with washing off the blood from your face.

John 13. You detest the thought, Belle Reave had ripped every ounce of belief from your body, but the ceremonies and rituals of your youth had not quite left your mind, and the intimacy of the moment didn’t help. Silence filled the room, the only noises being the soft sounds of the wash cloth being dunked into the water and squeezed out. You’d seen it before, a relatives wedding, the washing of the feet ceremony. It’s meant to be intimate, to be between spouses, to show commitment and love just as Jesus had to his disciples. You feel far more like Judas, however, with the monster that festers inside you.

“So. What was that?” His voice snaps you from your thoughts, eyes fluttering down to look at him, hesitating at his question. You don’t have a good answer, not one that wraps everything up into a neat bow at the least. Just what you know, which isn’t much.

“It’s the reason I’m classified as a monster. Theres… something that lives inside me, a devil of sorts I was always told. It’s been there for as long as I can remember, its why I had to wear the collar back in confinement. It starts to creep out whenever I slip, get too comfortable or let my guard down.” You’re quiet, not wanting to break the softness of this encounter. “I’m sorry you had to see it.”

“You don’t have to apologize. We’re all freaks, its the whole point of this task force.”

“I guess. I’m still sorry.”

A huff comes from Phosphorus as he grabs a clean washcloth, dunking it in fresh water and reaching up to wipe off some of the blood that you had missed, that still marrs your mouth and flesh. He’s close, now, very much so. He smells of sulfur, though it does not cause you to recoil or scrunch your nose; its a scent you’ve grown accustomed to with the monster that shares your body. Can a skeleton be attractive? Is that possible?

You lean into the feeling of the warm washcloth against your cheek; having been so long since someone had touched you. Before you had been arrested you indulged in sin, lust, it had engulfed your body and it wasn’t a feeling you ever wanted to encounter again. How it could consume your entire being, give control over to someone other than yourself. It’s a fine line for you, but you feel the distantly familiar feeling of butterflies flutter in your stomach at the proximity of him.

You feel sick; like bile will creep up your throat any moment, but it doesn’t feel bad. Not with how he lets the cloth be a barrier between the two of you, between his hands that will burn your body at his touch. You’d welcome it, to let him cauterize your wounds and fix you. Your hands creep up to wrap around the back of his neck, protected by the hood of his sweater as you pull him closer. He’s warm, comfortable.

“I don’t like you apologizing, you look like a kicked puppy.”

“You’re smiling, though.”

“Can’t help it, I’m a skeleton, doll.”

His voice is a giveaway, though, possibly the most upbeat you had heard him despite the quiet and intimate nature of the room. You feel it, the radiating warmth from his other hand creeping down to your thigh, rubbing soft, soothing circles against the fabric that protects your skin from his touch. It would hurt, but a part of you almost welcomes it, wants to feel it.

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes focused on the hand that slowly crept higher from your thigh. He’s close, his heat rivaling that at your core. You miss the way his head tilts to the side at your demeanor, hands grasping and releasing the fabric of his hoodie over and over.

Phosphorus said nothing as he continued to wipe some of the blood from your mouth, lingering over your bottom lip while his other hand becomes preoccupied with cupping you over your pajama pants, skeletal fingers pressing in to give you some friction.

That nausea you had felt earlier returns tenfold, punishing yourself for feeling anything remotely good. The situation reminds you far too much of the last time, dipping too far into bliss. It seemed you had only blinked when the body of the lover you had found for the night was strewn across the room, spitting half eaten entrails out of your maw. He guides you to lean back against the mirror, your hand clasping over your mouth to muffle your sounds as he slips below the fabric of your nightwear.

You can feel it again, the hunger that rises to your chest. Your hands shake against your skin now, nailbeds aching with the growing of your talons. A whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. You are selfish, greedy. You’d rather relish in this than warn him, to have one moment that allows you to feel human, to feel wanted and loved.

A sudden burning feeling rips you from your thoughts, your hand had been removed from its post over your mouth and was held in his. Tears well in your eyes at the feeling, the searing pain that washed over your body and forces you to see white. It aches, branding you.

“Shit.” Is all that falls from his mouth, moving his hand away before you needily grasp it once more. Intertwining your fingers, keeping him there. The pain had forced the monster away, talons no longer threatening to protrude from your nailbeds and spine ceasing its contorting. You are lucky, graced with an opportunity to feel something beneath the endless pit in your stomach. To feel him.

“Don’t stop.” Your breathless words are more than enough to encourage his continuation, slotting himself between you legs and pressing the suddenly tight fabric of his sweatpants against you. A soft sigh falling from your lips, head tilted back, hair fluffing up on the mirror as he began to rock against you.

“I wont.” Slow, at first, as if testing the waters to gauge your reaction. Soft whines emitting from somewhere behind the skeletal teeth that were on display for you. Your hand scrunches up his hoodie, dragging his chest closer to you as he began to pick up the pace.

Needy and pathetic, his hips grinding rougher against your pajama pants, the tent in his pants catching on your covered clit; pulling a gasp from you as you arched your back. He focused his movements in that spot, up and then down to elicit soft whines and moans from you. Matching his neediness, having been touched starved for so long.

You’d grown up with depictions of heaven, imaginary white fluffy clouds somewhere high above the Earth. But here, right now, you’re more than convinced this is paradise. Rough fabrics rocking against each other, keeping you grounded on the countertop you sit on, the mirror behind you beginning to fog up with your heavy breathing. Your hands still intertwined, the harsh stinging drowned out at the near bliss you faced.

Hes sloppy now, nearing his finish far faster than you despite your state. Harsh whines fall from him as he grinds against you a few more times before panting and leaning against you. He’s winded for a moment, catching his breath, though the hand not holding yours travels back down to rub against your core.

Hes rough, guiding you to gush around nothing. You can feel your heartbeat below, drumming uncomfortably as you bury your face in the neck of his hoodie. His hand slips below your pajamas once more, continuing to tease your swollen clit and soaked folds as tears pricked at your eyes, squeezing his hand to single for him to stop.

Within a moment, he did. Ceasing the torment though not removing his hand from under your pants. Allowing your juices to pool against the cotton of your underwear before guiding his hand lower, placing his palm flat against your thigh and removing his other hand from yours. It stings, the cleansing fire emitting from him, your hand already burned as he brands your thigh with his handprint.

“Perhaps we should act like this didn’t happen… I’m sure it would make being on a team awkward.”

“I-... Yeah. Agreed. I should, um, head to bed.” Awkward you lift yourself from the counter and fix your pajama pants, slipping off the granite and setting against the cold tile floor. Your feet still hurt, though not nearly as bad as they had hurt before and surely nothing in comparison to the feeling of him against your skin.

He gives little more than a nod as you slink out the door, stumbling down the hall to find your own room and quickly running a hot bath. It would soothe you, make everything better, you deemed. Stripping to allow yourself to sink into the warmth as a sigh falls from your lips, eyes drawn to the handprint marked on your thigh.

You trace the outline with your finger, over and over almost obsessively and silently cursing him for his words. An asshole, you remembered, your least favorite in the little ragtag team. Though, with the way he had whimpered and moaned against you, you were halfway convinced you may be able to fuck the sarcasm and ill wit out of him.

[stusbunker]

Tattered: Epilogue

A Supernatural A/B/O Fanfiction Series

Featuring: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Sam

Word Count: ~3250

Warnings, etc: Just some thoughts and kitchen sex

Series Masterlist

Reader

The house is entirely too quiet as I park the van. No shrieking voices wafting from the playroom or doors swinging open on the chance that I brought home snacks. I still don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it. But school days loom ahead of us for the next ten months and another twelve years after that. My babies are school aged and it tightens my chest in grief as much as it soothes my mind with the idea of free time.

My Alphas have both had their adjustment periods. However, I have been nominated for drop off duty indefinitely after Dean cried so hard he couldn’t see the road on the first day of school.

Sam’s excuse is that he prefers to run in the mornings.

Oh well, I don’t have to deal with the pick up queue and for that I am grateful. I hang up my keys as I step inside the eerily peaceful house. Sam’s in the shower, water audible even downstairs. I beeline for the kitchen and a second cup of coffee and debate what I should do before I have to run back into town to mail out deliveries for Bobby’s online parts business.

I jump when I find Dean at the table, coffee in one hand and a book in the other, which makes sense why I didn’t hear his thoughts because he tends to get lost in the story and I can’t tap into his feelings when he’s lost to his imagination.

He smirks and I try to play it cool.

He pretends to keep reading as I fix my coffee, his amusement bright on the air. I run my fingers through his hair as I brush past him on the way to my usual spot and his brow softens before he goes back to his book for real. I watch Dean read, relishing in the ordinary of the little pucker of his lips as he thinks, the shadow of stumble along his jaw, the ease in which we all exist these days. I can’t help but get a little emotional over how far we’ve come as mates, as a family.

I must be dwelling because Dean reaches out his hand, palm side up against the table and I grab onto it as he continues his literary journey and I sip my coffee with my opposite hand. Reassured and supported.

Sam joins us and disrupts the quiet with the shrill whirl of the blender for his daily smoothie. And as much as Dean hems and haws about it, he’s not actually mad. He winks at me over his probably cold coffee and I nudge his foot beneath the table. Sam sits down opposite me, smelling clean and enthusiastic.

“It’s so quiet,” he huffs a little in disbelief.

“Cherish it, it’s only seven hours a day,” I remind him.

“Right?!” Dean emphasizes using a coupon for the new fro-yo place as a bookmark. He leans back and stretches out his arms. In just a t-shirt and jeans, I get a good view of his strong torso and gorgeous arms. He holds the stretch and I pull my feet up under the table to rest against his lap.

Sam eyes me over his fancy smoothie tumbler and I consider moving upstairs, and taking them both back to bed.

Dean sinks back into his chair, hands finding my calves beneath the table and starts rubbing them gently. God, those hands. My eye lids droop in the pleasure of Dean’s grip, head lolling back as I laze in place. Sam gets up and rinses out his dishes, and when he’s done he makes his own move onto my shoulders. Sam’s hands are massive and no matter how many ways he touches me, I always feel safe.

I fall into the sensations, Dean’s thumbing into the arch of my foot and Sam working out the knot between my shoulder blades that I get from bedtime stories and too much time at a computer. It’s the happy kind of ache. Before I even realize it I’m mush. And Dean is having one of those silent conversations with Sam over my head. I can hear their intent, naked, table, Omega. But most of all I feel the pride and the hunger of their thoughts.

I can’t hold back the shiver as Dean twists the fabric of my leggings against my thighs and pulls, lifting my hips from my chair and dragging my pants off with expert fingers.

Sam leans down and kisses the side of my neck, chest hot behind me. Before I realize he’s no longer touching me, my chair scrapes against the stone floor, pulling me away from the table, baring my naked legs to them both. Dean’s out of his chair and rounding on me, eyes dark and playful. As Sam tugs at my sleeves, drawing my focus away from Dean as he rips my hoodie off of me, leaving me in nothing but my cami and panties.

I don’t know if I should lean back and keep making them work for it or stand up and take what I want.

Dean makes up my mind for me as he drops to the floor at my feet and starts kissing up my thigh. He watches me as I spread my legs open, want thickening in the space between us as he nibbles his way to my core. Sam’s not waiting his turn, instead he drapes himself over me and kisses me upside down. The fresh tartness of his smoothie still on his tongue, he invades my mouth.

I get a hand in his hair and I hold him there, meeting his every stroke. 

Then Dean’s nuzzles against my seam, breathing and lapping against the patch of slick soaked cotton.

I can’t help but rock against his pretty face.

Sam’s long fingers delve down the front of my top, sure and steady they tease my nipples into peaks. I moan into his mouth and Dean drags me further off the seat of my chair, hoisting my legs over his shoulders one at a time. I squeeze him closer, but Sam’s pulling back and I can tell that he needs more of me than this angle allows.

I blink back to reality, watch Sam’s chest rise and fall as he takes stock of the room. Dean’s threading his knuckles into the legs of my panties, teasing me with the fabric as he sucks a bruise on my inner thigh. Everything is hot and churning and none of it is enough.

“Up, Dean,” Sam barks. And they’re lifting me by my thighs and my armpits and spreading me out across the table like a goddamn buffet. Dean works my panties off, but Sam just shoves my top down,  getting his mouth on my tits as soon as he can. I arch into the heat of his mouth, snake my fingers into his hair and tug. My skin prickles with Sam’s deep growl.

Dean’s there to catch the next wave of slick fresh from the source. He slurps at my cunt and I twitch with the electricity humming beneath my skin. But they’ve only begun to pull me apart.

I drag Sam’s mouth to my own, my tongue challenges him for more. He breaks the kiss to catch his breath.

All I am and all I have is wet and empty.

I inhale deeply and reach for Sam’s waistband. He didn’t bother putting on shorts after his shower, his dick is heavy and thickening as I pull it out of his sweats. I realize I forgot breakfast, and take my fill anyway. He tosses his head back as I gaze up at him from the tabletop, all wide chest and damp hair. His huge hands clamp down on my chest and I loosen my jaw, breathe through my nose and let Sam fuck my throat.

My lips bump into the heat of his knot and I begin to drool from the fat of his shaft. I swallow instinctively making Sam moan my name. Dean pushes my legs further apart, and strokes my thighs as his soft lips pull on my clit, focusing all my pleasure on that tiny mesmerizing patch of nerve endings. He draws it out of me, and the tether of my climax starts to break loose, like a clothesline in a tornado.

Two thick, calloused fingers slide inside me and I start to cough in warning to Sam. He knowingly pulls out and almost immediately Dean is tapping against my g-spot, making me bend and writhe. And with one last wide swipe of his tongue, I explode, straining towards Dean’s face. Desperate and thrashing.

When I gather my bearings, Sam’s actually holding me down by the wrists and by the looks of Dean it’s because I decided to use Dean’s ears as handles. His usually bright eyes are heavy with betrayal as he rubs the abused skin. “Easy!” 

I can’t even pretend to be sorry. I sigh and shift against the wet patch beneath my ass. I look back up at Sam and tip my chin up, cracking my jaw wide as the pulsing of my channel ebbs away. Sam juts out his chin and sticks his tongue in his cheek, impressed with my gaul. I get my reward, my hands released and that satisfying, suffocating stretch of his cock back down my throat.

Dean, in retaliation, drags me by my hips to the other edge of the table, almost making me drop Sam. Fucker. But Sam follows, height in his favor as he rests his balls on the kitchen table and continues to fill my mouth, pumping gently as Dean drops trow and works himself up to fuck me himself. I feel and hear Dean’s actions, unable to see anything but the wood grain of the table top, Sam’s heavy sack and his slowly filling knot.

I tease Sam’s crown with my tongue, coaxing him deeper, harder.

Then I feel the welcome shift between my legs, the hot press of Dean on my swollen lips, and he’s home. They’re both home. With me. In me. Us. They move in sync, like a well oiled machine, slick and sleek and determined. Stuffing me until I come again on a silent cry. Sam’s got one hand on my shoulder, the other cupping my chin, caressing while holding me in place. Dean’s thumbing my clit, threatening through clenched teeth and I know how competitive he is, how he’s trying to rack up his come count while he’s got his hand on one of my magic buttons. His knot soon to drag against the other.

I know how sensitive his ears are, so it might be a little bit about revenge too. But it’s well worth it. I wiggle my hips and clench around his dick, taunting him back until he pulls out completely and I whine at the loss.

Dean fucking paints me with his seed, shoots over my cunt, thighs and belly. Though his knot is unfulfilled, he grunts and falls face first against the soft pooch left over from the pups, mouthing against my skin, he catches his breath.

I tremble from the sensitivity, but I still have another Alpha to satisfy. I reach down and pet Dean’s head before planting my feet on the edge of the table and shoving my chin against Sam’s pubes. My nose is filled with soap and Sam, his balls a cushion as I try to make him feed me his knot.

A noise catches in the back of Sam’s throat and he thrusts shallowly as I hum around him. I swallow and feel his wide tip catch, I keep swallowing, breathing through my nose. Growing desperate I hum deeper, try and use my tongue for better pressure.

Dean’s warm palm slides up my chest, both soothing and praising as I focus on Sam. I wish I wasn’t upside down, I wish I could see Sam’s face. Instead, I scream at him in my mind. And the bastard chuckles, stroking my chin he finally starts to really move, sharing in the work. I am a drooling, sated mess, but he’s still hard as ever.

Dean pulls himself off of my sticky body, dropping into Sam’s forgotten chair. Cautiously, I relax my jaw, easing Sam out of my mouth so I can finally face him. He grips his knot and watches me darkly, waiting to see what I’ll do next. I sit up and flick his shoulder before kissing him sloppy. His big hand holds my waist tight against him and he teases me with that sinful, long tongue.

We break apart and lock eyes. Sam smirks, so I know he’s on board.

“Dean? How should I finish Sam off?” I call over my shoulder, feeling my first Alpha thoughtful behind me. Sam and Dean have another silent conversation.

The moment stretches with anticipation and I shiver, reminding me that I am the only one completely naked.

“Bend her over the table, I want to watch her face when she comes the last time,” Dean decides finally.

I shriek as Sam hauls me off the table with a stiff forearm to my lower back, but I love it from behind so I settle face down and hoist myself up onto my tiptoes, giving Sam and his ridiculous height the best angle I can. He still has to squat to get low enough to notch at my entrance. But then he’s stretching me open once more and I sigh with the fullness.

I open my eyes and look across the table at Dean, and he licks then bites his bottom lip. Idly, he cups his junk, too soon for more, but it won’t be long. I can tell he’s making plans for the rest of our childfree hours. Sam picks up the pace and I gasp, making Dean chuckle.

Sam angles his hips down and I squeal as he drags against my g-spot, his knot burning against my swollen lips. Fuck, they’re ruining me all over again. Like always.

I fight to keep my eyes on Dean, but Sam’s really fucking me deep and my body wants to focus on all that heat and friction more than it wants to see how much my other Alpha approves. Sam smacks my ass and I clench and then it all comes crashing together inside: Dean’s jizz sliding against my belly as we further debauch the table, Sam stuffing his knot inside of me so hard, so fucking wide and my eyes burst open as I come one final time, gushing against both mine and Sam’s thighs.

“That’s it, there she is.” Dean’s husky voice makes me twitch. 

I whine but Sam’s nipping across my shoulders as he leans down to catch his breath, bracing himself against the table. Then I inevitably fall asleep waiting for Sam’s knot to deflate.

We do eventually get decent and clean up after ourselves. And all of us go with to pick the kids up from school, because that’s the kind of saccharin crap our lives have become. It’s amazing and safe, however stressful, but still floors me so many years in. 

Usually siblings aren’t kept in the same classrooms, but there aren’t enough kindergarten classes to completely separate our brood. Luckily, the administrators listened to us and let Jimmy and Sophie into the same class. Joni’s a social butterfly and we weren’t worried about her making friends.

Naturally, Joni is the first one out of the door and sprinting across the playground to reach the van. Dean rolls down my window and cheers her on. The rest of the school pours out of the doors in a steady stream of pigtails and oversized backpacks and not-yet-broken-in school shoes. Just as Joni reaches the back door Sam had slid open, I spot Sophi and Jimmy marching down the steps, hand-in-hand beside their teacher, who seems amused at whatever story Jimmy is telling her.

Sophie stops herself from eating her hair twice.

“We are having a field trip to a pumpkin farm!” Joni announces out-of-breath and ecstatic.

“Wow, princess. Lucky!” Dean replies.

Joni throws her arms around Sam’s neck and continues on at top volume. “We get to go on a hay ride and pick our own pumpkins to bring home with us!”

“Hey, I’m right here, okay?” Sam reminds her about inside voices.

“Sorry—- Can you come?! Ms. Mary says she will take any parents who can go,” she barely lowers her voice.

“Sure, peanut, we’ll look at the permission slip when we get home. Let’s get you in your seat,” Sam agrees and redirects.

Jimmy and Sophie take their time, heads bowed and backpacks so light and big they bounce off the backs of their legs. 

“What else did you do today?” I ask Joni as we wait for the other two, turning in my seat.

“Um, gym? And we had broccoli at lunch.” She makes a face and Dean visibly shivers along with her.

“Gross!”

“Daddy!” She giggles at his exaggerated face of disgust.

“What? You don’t even like broccoli?!” Dean teases back.

“But you’re a grown up!” Joni reminds him, because he needs the reminder.

“Don’t mean I have to like gross food. Dad likes that crap, not me.” Dean explains.

“Nice,” Sam mutters, climbing out of the back seat to make room for the two pokey puppies.

“Hey guys!” Sam cups their heads with his big hands, hugging them awkwardly without bending over.

“Sophie’s sad, so we need some feel good tunes,” Jimmy explains.

“Tell Daddy, okay, buddy?” Sam tells Jimmy before bending down and scooping Sophie in a tight squeeze. 

Jimmy climbs into the van and whispers into Dean’s ear, as much as a five-year-old can whisper. “She didn’t get her picture done and now she thinks the art teacher is mad at her. Back in Black, Daddy.”

Dean nods and glances at Sam and Sophie as they get settled into the van. Dean scrolls through his phone and finds the song, while I glance at Sam to see if speaking to Sophie is wise.

Sam straps her in as the familiar opening comes to life through the van’s well used speakers.

“This one goes out to Little Miss. Sophia Winchester, top of your lungs sweetheart!” Dean points at her until her sad little face cracks a smile and she sings along with Brian Johnson, getting half of the words wrong. Dean bobs his head, checks that Sam made it into the way back and pulls off the curb into the barely crawling line of SUVs and minivans.

We all join in on the chorus. And everyone is still singing along with the playlist as we pull back up to the house. We unbuckle the pups and collect their forgotten backpacks, letting them run around and relax before it’s time for dinner. One of the perks of living in the middle of nowhere, plenty of places to play. 

I watch their little heads as they chase each other in the slanting sunshine of an autumn afternoon. Three whole pieces of my tattered heart roaming free, capable of bringing so much joy and so much ache. And then there’s the two reasons they’re here in the first place, my Alphas. The reasons my heart is so tattered to begin with, not just from all the pain we went through to get here, but because they loved me so fiercely the whole time. 

And well-loved is something I’m grateful to be.

Tell me what you think?

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