#the past tense of spin is spun

[songweaver]

I'm really enjoying the story and characters in An Archdemon's Dilemma, but J-Novel Club really needs to up their translation game. If I have to read the phrase "span on the spot" one more time, I'm gonna seriously lose my shit >_<

[gulliblelemon]

Sunday Snippet

I am currently actively writing two things (which I almost never do, but after this week I just couldn't concentrate on my other WIP). This is a snippet from the second one, which will be a slightly angsty but also fluffy (willing to be corrected on this when you all yell at me) one shot. I might post one from the other WIP later, which is a bigger project.

-

After sliding Wille’s mug over to him, Simon made his own drink and took the seat opposite Wille. It was where they always sat, and it made something clench in Wille’s chest, either from fondness or anticipatory sadness he couldn’t tell.

Simon spun his mug one way, then the other, watching the liquid slosh with an intensity that betrayed how nervous he was. Wille wanted to reach across the table and lay a palm over Simon’s, to reassure him, to calm him. But Wille knew that that wouldn’t help. Not today. So he kept his hands to himself, and found himself tapping his own fingers on the side of his mug.

“So,” he said, not really sure where he was going to take that.

“So,” Simon repeated. He lifted his face and looked at Wille with an inscrutable expression. It made all of Wille’s insides curl up. He didn’t want to be a puzzle to Simon. It had been years since Simon hadn’t known how to figure him out. He wanted Simon to understand everything about him. He wanted—

“I’m sorry!” he blurted, panic forcing the words from his mouth. 

“You’re sorry?” Simon repeated, watching Wille’s face carefully.

[mallowsweetmiri]

Truth, Dare, or Punishment ~ Fred Weasley

summary: you bitches asked for dom!Fred and you shall receive. a game of truth or dare in the common room goes south when Mclaggen dares you to kiss him

warnings: possessive dom!Fred, smut, cursing

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The night had been going splendid so far. Everyone was way too excited after the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrong to go to sleep, and the older Gryffindors decided to get shitfaced as the perfect solution to their restlessness. After all, there was no quidditch this year to justify throwing common room parties, so you guys had to get creative. The new year brought new witches and wizards to corrupt, and so the twins finally let their baby brother Ron and his year join the fun. It been going well, granted Hermione was drunk off her ass, but Harry had been watching over her well enough. You were also past the point of drunk, and you assumed by their faces that the rest of the group were on their way there. At this point in the night, those who were still awake were circled up playing a filthy game of truth or dare. Angelina had gone to do seven minutes in heaven with George, Neville had eaten a puking pastille, and Ron had madeout with Lavender Brown in a disturbing manner. It was time to spin the bottle again to see who would ask the next question. Hermione giggle and leaned into the circle to spin the bottle. Everyone look around with nervous smiles as it spun around and around, before landing on Cormac McLaggen. You cringed. This was possibly the worst person it could've stopped on. Your body had a visceral reaction when your name left his lips.

"Y/N," he smiled drukenly, "Truth or dare?" You rolled your eyes. Oh, great.

"Truth," you said, grabbing your drink and taking a swig. You were going to need it.

"Who did you lose your virginity to?"

You choked on your drink as the rest of the group murmured at the question, Hermione's jaw dropping before a stream of shocked laughs escaped her. You felt Fred tense up beside you. Your mind raced with the memories of this summer at the Burrow.

"Just like that, Y/N. You're doing so good," Fred praised as he thrusted into you, kissing the crook of your neck while he fucked you. He'd been teaching you how kiss, as a friend of course. He had to help out his dear friend Y/N when she confessed how embarrassed she was that she had never kissed anyone. Never done anything with anyone. From there it had escalated. First, you wanted to know learn to give a blowjob, but soon enough Fred thought it'd be best if you knew what these things felt like too. After a while, you both realized you were terribly obsessed with each other, and one night you decided to let him be the one to take your virginity. He was big, and you were nervous, but he was so sweet about it. Even at the beginning when you thought it wouldn't be able to fit, he was reassuring and gentle with you. But that was at the start, and by now he was fully fucking you on your back, your pussy starting the soften around his cock as pleasure began to ripple through your body. You both came together in a heap of sweat and kisses.

"Y/N," McLaggen sung, waiting for your response.

"I'm not answering that," you coughed, still choking on your drink. The group has set up measure to tell if someone was lying, so you couldn't fake still being a virgin. You supposed the question wasn't that out of pocket, but you couldn't answer it. Nobody knew about you and Fred besides George, and you both wanted to keep it that way. Especially from your families.

"Well then, you know the rules," McLaggen tsked teasingly, "you forfeit to dare."

"What? No, I-"

"Those are the rules Y/N," Hermione cringed, unable to stop herself. McLaggen smirked.

"I dare you to kiss me."

You felt nauseous. McLaggen was disgusting, and the last person you'd ever want to kiss. Unfortunately, you'd brought this onto yourself. You should've known he would dare someone to kiss himself. What a weirdo. The circle groaned and laughed in disgust as McLaggen puckered his lips. You cringed and shifted your weight to lean across the circle. Just as you were about to shuffle over to him, Fred grabbed your wrist and pulled you back. You looked back at him and saw anything but a smile on his usually cheerful face. He spun the bottle and landed it on himself in a hasty motion, still holding onto your wrist tightly.

"McLaggen, I dare you to stop wearing your fucking Ballycastle Bats tighty whities to every single quidditch practice," Fred sneered before yanking you up with him and pulling you towards his dorm. You heard the group go crazy with laughter behind you and hoped it would cover for the fact that Fred just pulled you away from the party. Hopefully George could cover for you two, he should be done with seven minutes by now. Fred dragged you up the stairs without so much as a look in your direction. Once you reach his dorm, he threw open the door. What was happening?

"Fred-" he smashed his lips into yours and shut the door with your body. You gasped as your back hit to wooden surface, Fred pulling your skirt up while his hand gripped your thigh. He used your lifted leg as leverage to grind down into your hips as he pressed you against the door. Your pussy pulsed when you felt him against you, his hands gripping in all the right places. Wait a minute. When did he start kissing you again?

"Fred," you said quickly, pulling away from his mouth. He tried to kiss you again. "Fred, we just left the party. You just dragged me up here when I was supposed to kiss-"

"Don't even say his name," Fred growled, his breathing heavy and hot as he kept his face inches from yours.

"I'm sorry," you whispered out, unable to speak properly. You'd never seen Fred mad before.

"I'm sorry I dragged you," he softened, ducking his head down to kiss your neck, "but I wasn't going to let somebody else kiss you." With that, he began to attack your neck. His left hand came up to grip the back of your head as his tongue and teeth lapped at your sweet spot. You let out whimpered moans as he worked, his fingers gripping you just right. Rougher than usual.

"Freddie," you moaned, grinding yourself onto his leg. You needed more. This man had hooked, and you'd never been so addicted in your life. He picked you up under your legs and carried you to the bed before placing you down on your back. He stood over you, leaving you panting on the bed as he took off his shirt and undid his belt. His eyes were locked on yours. You wanted to look away but you couldn't, his gaze wouldn't let you. When he finished, he rushed towards you again, kissing you deeply as his hand flipped your skirt up. His tongued rammed itself into your mouth, stifling your moans when his fingers grazed over your clit. You blushed as his fingers masterfully moved your panties aside and dipped into your core. Fred laughed into the kiss as he felt you.

"Already so wet for me," he breathed huskily, "are you ready to take me?" His words had you aching. You nodded up at him bashfully. You wanted him so badly. You had turned into such a slut for his cock. "Good girl." He sat up and flipped you over, pulling your panties down as he took off his own pants. He didn't bother to take off your skirt as he pulled you back onto him. You let out a guttural moan as you felt his length stretching you out.

"Fuck, Freddie," you whined as he gripped your hips and began to thrust into you. He was going to leave bruises for tomorrow, but you didn't care.

"You're taking it so good, Y/N" Fred groaned, smacking your ass, "you like getting fucked by me? Huh?" He picked up his pace, pounding into you hard. Your moans were bouncing with the rhythm of his thrusts as he waited for your reply.

"Y-yes, Freddie. I love when you fuck me," you whined, feeling you pussy begin to clench around him. His dick twitched at the feeling and groaned. In one motion, he pulled out and spun you onto your back, pulling your shirt up over your tits and pinning your wrists above your head.

"God, you look so fucking pretty. Can't see your beautiful face while I'm behind you," Fred grunted as he thrust back into you. You moaned and threw you head back. You writhed underneath Fred, his hand constraining your wrists. You desperately needed to grasps something. You were reaching the edge.

"Freddie," you cried, unable to say anything except his name. Your eyes clenched shut as you felt your stomach knot up one final time.

"That's it, baby. Come for me." You could feel his eyes on you as you released yourself around his throbbing cock. As the waves of pleasure began to slow, Fred grunted and became sloppy. He released your hands and buried his face into your neck as he came, pushing himself as deep as he could inside of you. He laid there for a moment before pushing himself off you and pulling you onto his chest. You couldn't help but giggle a little as he kissed your head and rubbed your shoulder.

"You are so jealous," you teased, looking up to see Fred. He laughed with a sleepy half smiled.

"I'm not jealous," he retorted, pinching your cheek. "I'm just protecting whats mine."

[klausysworld]

Hey so i was wondering if maybe you could possibly write me a smutty story with Klaus like about how even though he turned me made me a hybrid or vampire now he still wants to celebrate my birthday? My birthday is on the 29th of August so its literally 4 days away id love that

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.

Turning wasn't something I had intended to do or wanted really, it was out of necessity that Klaus had given me his blood and it was an accident that I died with it in my system.

Klaus had convinced me to complete the transition, promising to be there with me and for me throughout the highs and lows of vampirism.

In all fairness, he had been with me but sometimes the lows were really low. Especially when it came round to my supposed to be birthday. However I was never going to get older again, there was no point in blowing out some silly candles and making a wish that would never come true. I couldn't celebrate that I was a year closer to any major life event or be able to talk about stupid things like a slight pay rise as I get older.

So when I woke up, and checked to see the dreaded date, I didn't bother getting out of bed. Well not until I felt an arm round my waist, pulling me back against a firm body. My eyes cracked open when his deep voice rumbled from behind my ear.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart." He muttered, a kiss pressed to the back of my ear and then my cheek before I was rolled over to face him. My face was level with his as he brushed the tip of his nose over mine and I groaned.

"Can we just not?" I mumbled, my voice croaky from sleep but I knew he got it as his brows pulled together and his eyes crinkled ever so slightly at the edges.

"No, we definitely will." He argued, his face returning to relaxed again as he pecked my lips. "Believe it or not but we all still celebrate our birthdays, Rebekah insists upon it."

"Were calendars even a thing back then?" I ask, still just about coherent and he hummed.

"No...but we had our ways to know...or perhaps we simply chose our birthdays a few years down the line. Nevertheless we celebrate and I refuse to let you go without." He whispered, kissing my temple and offering a smile.

"I've been here ages and haven't seen any of your birthdays, you're lying." I murmured, eyes narrowed.

"Well..." He sighed, a click to his tongue. "We celebrate as often as we can, the past couple months or so have been very complicated to say the least."

"Fine but I better see you with a birthday hat and badge on- when was your birthday?" I question and he sighed.

"March time. Doesn't matter, it isn't about me. This is about you. Now come, the festivities have only just began." He teased before both arms were hoisting me up and over his shoulder like a rag doll making me whine.

"Klaus!" I squirmed but only for a second, I wasn't awake enough to fight him. His hand patted my ass playfully as he carried me out of our room, making my body tense but he shushed me.

"I won't let anyone see this pretty little behind of yours." He chuckled, bringing me down the stairs and spinning me round and placing me on the breakfast stool. My head spun a little, attempting to adjust as a warm plate was placed in front of me by a softly smiling Elijah.

"Congratulations on your birthday, Y/N." He uttered, keeping his voice quiet which I appreciated before Rebekah's voice bellowed out.

"For christs sake Elijah! Just say normal things like 'happy birthday'!" She tutted, rolling her eyes and dropping down beside me. "Happy birthday, darling. It'll be spectacularly, I guarantee." She grinned and I could feel the dread forming as I pushed a smile to my face and bit the end of some bacon to keep my mouth preoccupied so I wouldn't have to find any words to keep the magic of my fantastic birthday alive.

Klaus's hand ruffled my hair, his chuckle a distant sound in the air as he left the room. My head turned to find him but Rebekah was nudging my side.

"Don't look, he's going to get your presents. Keep eating, and try to contain your excitement." She practically bounced beside me, smile brighter than ever as she pulled out a party horn and blew it in my face.

Just seconds later an elastic band snapped under my chin, a card hat on top my head and Hayley kissing my cheek before catching my ear. "Just go with it, it'll get better." She whispered and I listened.

By the time I had finished my breakfast, Klaus was behind me.

I had just slipped off the stool, Elijah had already taken my plate and when I turned around there was an array of differently shaped and sized presents wrapped and displayed across the room. Klaus standing infront of them, slowly coming towards me with a hand outstretched.

I took it after a second and let him lead me over, arms going round me from behind as he lifted the first gift to my hands. "Please...just enjoy yourself." He whispered, nose in my neck.

Presents took a while. By the end I couldn't be upset. Klaus knew me like an open book and had hit every mark possible. Bringing me to tears several times with extra special gifts.

Which was why my face was buried in his chest, eyes closed and fingers curled around his henley as he kissed the top of my head.

I found myself back upstairs soon after, stripped bare and soaking peacefully in the bathtub whilst Rebekah and Hayley yelled through the next room, going on about the party they had planned.

The dress Rebekah had designed fit like a glove and I couldn't deny how beautiful I felt in it, especially once the girls had done my hair and makeup.

"Everything's perfect." Bekah uttered, hands fixing the last few strands and checking the hairspray had set.

"Klaus is gonna go crazy." Hayley whistled and my eyes rolled though a smile pulled at my face.

They were right too, he was all over me as soon as I got to the bottom of the staircase. Lips kissing mine and hands on my hips, gripping them like he usually does in the depths of our room.

"Happy birthday, my love." He whispered and I hummed before adjusting his bowtie.

"You are adorable when you dress up." I teased and he smirked.

"You may never cease to surprise me with your...unique compliments for me." He chuckled and I hummed, kissing him again.

"Lets go dance." I whispered and he shook his head with a grin.

"Birthday toasts, my love." He told me and I groaned softly as I pulled him over to where everyone was spinning each other around happily. He relented of course and gave into a few dances before pulling me onto the stair case and having me held to his side whilst he toasted my birthday before his siblings and Hayley followed. All expressing their appreciation and love for me.

It was quite lovely actually. I was glad to have celebrated my birthday when I hugged each of them before we all got back on the floor.

So many people had brought me gifts, said such kind words and I had to wonder if they were compelled but I didn't even care by the end of the day when Klaus had me held against the wall. Mouth on my neck, sucking his beautiful marks into my skin and hands bunching up my dress.

I could still hear the music and chatter of guests just a wall over as his fingers stroked their way up my thighs. I could feel the warmth spreading through my body. I clung onto his suit jacket, tugging relentlessly with need as I tried to contain the moans that clawed up my throat.

A gasp escaped me as his teeth bit my skin, not his vampire teeth but his human ones. Not quite making me bleed but still breaking the skin.

I tried to pull him closer, my legs pulling at his waist letting me feel how hard he was against me.

"Oh god" I breathed, my eyes looking down quickly but all I could see was dress as he ground himself against me.

"You have no idea how badly I want to take you right now." He whispered and I moaned softly.

"God..yes, do it." I begged and he hummed.

"Not yet...you need your gift." He muttered before he was holding the backs of my thighs tightly. I glanced at him, confused before groaning softly as he got down to his knees and placed both my legs over his shoulders.

"Klaus..." I whispered as his head was completely covered by the skirt of my dress.

Despite not being able to see him, there was absolutely no doubt he was there as the heat of his treasured mouth kissed my wetness through my thong. God he was good, he was always so good.

If euphoria were a person, it would be Klaus.

He knew exactly what to do, how to touch, how to love me so good that I love myself too.

My hands pressed to the walls around and my head went back to rest. He was pure heat between my legs and he made my legs shake against my will.

"One day you're gonna really kill me." I whispered, my words a blur as I felt my back arch off of the wall behind. I could feel his lips move against my cunt as he mumbled something back. The wet vibrations of his mouth making my insides twist delightfully. "God- fuck!" I cried as he chuckled, only adding to the intensity.

A laugh escaped him whilst he pulled his face away though my dress still hid him from my view.

"You'll alert the whole party if you keep screaming sweetheart." He reminded and I nodded in acknowledgment. My mouth closed in an attempt to muffle my sounds as the warm touch of his fingers stroked my pussy tauntingly.

I felt blood pool my mouth when my fangs sunk into my own tongue in time with his fingers plunging inside me. He made my nails penetrate my palms; a shiver to run down my spine.

My mind drew a blank at the methodic pump of his fingers, each curl and stroke hitting so unbelievably perfect that I seemed to be falling apart before he'd truly even started.

His laugh was amused and teasing as my legs were dropped to his waist where both his hands grabbed my thighs.

"I'm very serious when I tell you that the entirety of next door just heard you my love." He grinned before lifting my as he got to his feet and carried me to our room.

I was dropped to the bed with a soft thud, his body covering me like a blanket would as he nuzzled beneath my ear. "You know...I sincerely considered wearing a ribbon for you, my love." He murmured making me giggle at the idea.

"Oh yeah? Where would you have worn it?" I teased, my hands lifting to cup his face; my thumbs brushing over his stubble. "What part of you would I have gotten to unwrap." I whispered and a soft rumble travelled through his body.

No words left him as I felt my dress be tugged, a quick rough tug which caused a loud tear to sound through the room. I didn't have to look to know the extent of his damage, the cool air spreading down my front told me enough. His hands pulled the loose material away, leaving me completely bare beneath him. Open to him in all ways.

"Must you always break things?" I whined, despite not truly being annoyed.

"Oh love. I don't break things, I ruin them." He uttered, his words sharp on his tongue as his calloused hand stroked the side of my face. "Now lay back, my love, and let me ruin you."

I knew it wasn't a question but a demand and a demand that shot straight to my core.

The silence rang as I laid back, head against the pillows.

I accepted my fate wholeheartedly, and under no circumstances would I even consider skipping out on my birthday next year if I knew this was coming.

————————————————————————

You have no idea how sorry I am for this being so god damn late. I know it’s not my best, I hope it’s still something that can make you smile even just a little bit @nerdygamer829

[55sturn]

✮ TALKING TO THE MOON

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader [ past tense ]

synopsis: in which it’s been a year since you last stepped foot in boston after the devastating events of the last year, but as the moon grows full, you find yourself having a peaceful conversation with it.

warnings: swearing, lots of crying, angst with absolutely no comfort, major character death, minor mention of someone shooting up a gas station, mentions of puke+bile, death of a pet.

THIRD PERSON POV

it’s been exactly a year since you’ve been back in boston.

twelve months. fifty two weeks. three hundred sixty five days. eight thousand seven hundred sixty hours. five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes, since you’ve been back home.

the last year has been by far the worst year of your life. losing the love of your life, your very best friend was something you’d never wish on anyone. when you got the call from nick that night, his hysterical sobs hardly understandable, your heart dropped. matt had been at the wrong place, at the wrong time as someone shot up the 7/11 that matt was at on the way home from your place. when nick finally took a moment to breathe and explain the situation, your entire world stopped spinning for a moment, and the screaming sob that ripped through your body was something that nick needed professional help to forget. it was a sound that still haunts him to this day.

after his funeral, you up and left town, unable to live in a city that matt loved without him by your side, knowing that he was never returning. you, and chris fought a lot the few weeks that you kept in contact with his brothers for, chris tried so hard to blame you. saying that if you had just told matt to stay at yours a little bit longer, he’d still be alive. but you tried to explain that matt wanted to go home because it was jimmy’s birthday the next day and all the triplets wanted to make their dad breakfast.

no matter how the story was spun, one of you kept pointing the finger at the other. but logically, it no one’s fault except for the man that took matt’s life, and the three of you came to terms on thing, you were thankful the man was rotting behind bars.

but you’ve been in therapy for a year, and your therapist suggested taking a trip back home in attempt to heal some of the residual anger and pain lingering in your heart and clinging to your soul. you had begged her to help you find peace with the situation and this was her only solution. and after fighting it for three sessions, you finally agreed to return to boston on his anniversary, knowing his entire family would be home, and you wanted to make amends for leaving for abruptly.

as you stepped onto the road in front of the sturniolo residence, you felt your heart hammering in your chest, making you feel like you were two seconds away from vomiting up everything in your system. you took a seat on the curb, taking a moment to breathe as you looked at the cars lining their driveway and the street across from you, knowing they were having a memorial for matt. you had been invited but you hasn’t responded, the invitation is what caused your most recent mental spiral. sighing, you pulled out your pack of cigarettes, a habit that you had kicked when you and matt got together, but had picked back up about a month after leaving. as you lit it, you watched the clouds slowly shift, your head snapping as you heard footsteps behind you.

as chris steps outside the front door to grab something from the car, he sees a figure sitting on the curb, and despite your hair being much shorter and much lighter than he remembers, he knows it’s you. especially as he hears you flick your lighter. and he’s fighting a battle within himself, one side telling him to ignore you due all the pent up anger and blame he holds against you, but the more understanding side of him wins. he knows you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t trying to make up for leaving, and he knows you’re hurting too. so without so much as a second thought, he begins to step toward you.

“hey kid, why the fuck are you sitting out here?” chris asks, taking a seat beside you, watching you as you fight back tears, your posture stiff and rigid, as if you were trying to make yourself appear put together, as if you were sinking in on yourself.

“i’m terrified to go in there and not see him.” you whisper, your shoulders falling as you take a drag of your cigarette, chris’ arm wrapping around your shoulders as he nods, understanding what you’re feeling.

“that’s how i felt this morning. it hurt to go in there and not see him hugging mom and dad. i was also terrified to see you, i know matt is yelling at me right now for not being there for you and being such a jackass to you.” chris chuckling, but it sounds more like he was clearing his throat, the sound was broken and throaty as he holds back his tears.

“he’s probably yelling at me too for leaving and not letting you guys back in.” you laugh back, your head on chris’ shoulder, an unspoken apology being shared between you two as you lift your head upon feeling his shoulder shake. as you look at him, your heart breaks all over again at the sight of him sobbing. you toss your cigarette to the ground before pulling chris into a hug,

“i fucking miss him, y/n.” he sobs, his hands fisting the back of your shirt between his knuckles as you rub his back, your cheek pressed against the side of his head as you nod, trying to some form of comfort, despite how weak it’d sound.

“i know chris, i miss him every day.” you hum, unable to find something to say to soothe the man crumbling in your arms, you want to comfort him, to console him, but it’s so hard when you can’t console yourself.

“let’s go in, i know mom will be grateful to see you.” chris whispers as he stands up, his hand outstretched as you link yours in it, your worries rising to the surface like bile as you nod.

your first step into the house is tentative and timid, the house feels empty without matt’s laugh and voice ringing and echoing throughout it. and you want to crumble to your feet, being back here feels impossibly difficult to go through with. but you’re finally here, and that’s a big first step. and as you take careful steps towards the heart of the home, you feel something warm stirring in your chest, and it feels a bit harrowing too, but you want to see his parents, to comfort them and tell them you’re sorry for leaving.

but the guilt is eating away at you and so you’re ready to turn back as chris steps ahead of you, but you feel a warm sensation on your lower back and you know it’s matt guiding you deeper into the home, just like he did the first time he brought you home. as you round the corner, the first pair of eye you meet belong to nick, and a soft gasp is heard as mary-lou turns around, and she’s quick to tear up as you rush toward her, barreling into her arms.

“oh, dear.” she whispers as you sob in her arms, your body completely wracked with guilt and regret as she holds you.

“i’m s-so sorry for l-leaving, it was too hard and i know that s-sounds selfish because you’re going through the same pain as me, i-if not more.” you hiccup and blubber, trying your damnedest to get the apology out as she rubs your arm, her soft but heartbroken smile showing that she understand what you’re trying to convey.

“it’s okay hon, everyone deals with grief in their own way. some bottle it up and some try to run away from it. but you’re here now and that’s all i can ask for.” she murmurs as you nod, wiping your eyes as you walk to nick, pulling him into a physically silent hug, but the two of you share an understanding that transcends the need for verbal communication. and as you look around the room, you see everyone but jimmy. and deep down, you know where he is.

so with a wordless exit, you turn around and take the steps slowly, trying so hard to prepare yourself to open matt’s door. and you almost choose not to, but you know you need to talk to jimmy. so with a shaky hand, you turn the knob and open the door to matt’s room, and the smells immediately rips a new wave of tears through as you spit his dad holding mister wrinkleton to his heart with one hand, the other holding his head as his body shakes and you’re quick to sit beside matt’s father, raising your hand to his shoulder as he lifts his head, shock glinting in his eyes as you smile sadly.

just like matt, you were closer to jimmy than mary-lou. jimmy reminded you a lot of your late grandfather so you took a quick love to the man that matt admired with everything in him.

“i didn’t think you were coming.” jimmy hums, standing up and pulling you into a hug.

“i had to. it’s what matt would want.” you sigh.

“i just cant believe my boy is gone. every day i wake up and think he’s gonna call me and then the realization sets in and my heart breaks all over again, and the pain renews itself. it’s a battle to get out of bed after i remember everything. and for a moment, i think that at least if my boy is gone, i have you to call me, but that never happens either. and it feels like i’m living on autopilot these days.” jimmy sobs, and the crack splitting your heart in two feels impossibly bigger.

“i’m so sorry jimmy. i know i should’ve called, but i was so angry at the world. at the fucking piece of shit that ripped matt from me, from us, from this world. and i let my anger consume me. and that’s why i left. and i wiped every memory and reminder of boston out of my mind because it hurt so fucking much.” you whisper, and when jimmy pats your back silently, you know the appreciation and acceptance of your apology is there. and suddenly you’re left alone in matt’s room. and for the first time today, you stop crying out of pain and anger, but rather fondness. because being in his room feels peaceful. it’s the only thing that hasn’t changed since his passing. and it’s like for a moment, he’s okay, he’s alive, and he’ll be stumbling in the door, too focused on his phone or the conversation he’s in the middle of, with a big smile on his face.

but then you’re thrown back to the present, and you’re reminded that it hasn’t changed because matt hasn’t stepped foot in this room in a year. and he never will again. and it’s too hard for his parents to spend longer than five minutes in here without their hearts breaking over and over again. and you’re dropping to your knees, sobbing as quietly as possible. because matt will never be yours again. he’ll never hug, kiss, or touch you lovingly again. he will never laugh at your stupid jokes, or yell at his brothers again. and that rips your heart from your chest in one ruthless, swift tug.

you don’t know how much time passes, but when you lift yourself off the floor and head down the stairs to look out the window, the moon is high. and you walk out the door, standing on the front steps, silently admiring the moon. and for a split second, you feel warm arms winding around your shoulders, and you know matt is there visiting as quickly as he can, and as you look to the moon again, you take a deep breath,

“hey baby, i don’t know if you can hear me from wherever you are, but i hope you’re at peace, and i hope you’re safe, and i hope trevor is with you. i’m sorry i wasn’t around to say goodbye to trevor, it was just another piece of you that i would’ve had to say goodbye to and that would’ve been too hard at the time. but i miss you, a lot. we all do. but i made up with chris, i know you were pissed that him and i were fighting, given the fact that he was my best friend. but we’re okay now, and i think that we’ll be okay as long as we stop fighting. i love you matt. visit me soon, okay?”

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© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED ! [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

BACK!

[xprakzif]

LOVE YOU GOODBYE,

matt x fem!reader

summary: when matt’s career gets in the way of his relationship, his girlfriend simply cannot take it anymore. what better way to say goodbye than this?

warnings:: MDNI//SMUT, car sex, overstimulation, raw intercourse, kissing, angst, no happy ending.

“just one more time?”

the chilly breeze of the night rushed in causing both bodies to shiver. her short mini dress with lack of sleeves or a jacket only worsened the setting. the hair around her shoulders wasn’t doing her any favors by warming her up.

her tear stained cheeks illuminated by the street lamps occasionally flickering with him standing in front of her. so majestic yet full of shit, how could he stand there so beautifully after breaking her heart?

“face it, matt. i understand this is your job, i get that and i know you have to do this. you have to go hang out with other girls, you have to film and stream all the time, i know! but even when there’s time you don’t bother..” her heart pounding against her chest feeling like she was slowly sinking. she didn’t mean to come off this way. but it gets tiring after a while.

“i don’t know what you want me to do..” he didn’t even look her way, still looking out into the crowd of bodies that filled his shared home.

“yet you throw a party? shit, this is the closest thing i get to-“

“it wasn’t even my idea, y/n! you swear you get me but you don’t, ‘cause if you did, you’d know i don’t even want any of this! it was chris’s idea to invite some people over—shit, it’s not even a party for real. you always do this.. i’m just as tired as you are, alright?” his sudden outburst snapped a few heart strings, she felt herself breaking down quicker by the second.

the booming voices made her racing heart only beat faster. maybe she’s the problem. maybe her leaving would solve his worries, cut back the stress he’s dealing with.

“okay..” she whispered, face heating up as her eyes burned with tears. she continuously swallowed the nerves in her throat but nothing could stop the pain in her heart right now.

she moved through the room trying to find an escape, an exit. haven’t even noticed she let loose and sobbed, ruining her eye makeup.

finally reaching the front door, she stepped out trying to slam the door behind her, but something was in the way.

“cmon, y/n..” matt took ahold of her arm, which she ripped out of his grip to walk off.

from an outsiders point of view, it’d look like he was chasing her. her heels clicking against the cement as she made her way to her car parked a bit far from their house.

“please- wait!”

getting to her car, she finally spun around,

“no, matt! i’m done- with you, with us.. i’m sorry.” she managed to get out. he took in her figure underneath the glooming street lamp. it looked like a scene from a movie.

“what..?”

“i’m sorry.. i don’t wanna be in the way of your career anymore–please don’t convince me otherwise..”

he stood shut, a part of him knew she was right.

he felt his heart tense up as if it were being squeezed. thought they were both going through such heartbreak, neither of them could help but admire the other.

after all, she was his–or atleast used to be. it wasn’t unlikely for him to lust over her, now just wasn’t the right time.

both of them couldn’t deny how sexually frustrated they were. she was right, matt hadn’t spent enough time with her. neither of them were disloyal, so the days added on and on.

he couldn’t help but realize her beauty, even with eyeliner and mascara running down her stained cheeks. if anything it only made her more exquisite.

him standing there, dark purple bags under his eyes from the lack of rest he had gotten these past weeks, his bright blue eyes looking up and down her body. she felt the need as much as he did.

his slow steps toward her made her head spin. he placed a delicate hand to her cheek, caressing it while he looked into her eyes.

“just.. one more time?” he whispered. “as a goodbye..”

there was no need for context when they both knew what that meant. she grabbed the back of his neck, drawing him closer to smash his lips onto hers.

the world around them paused, no care for the party that was going on just a few houses away.

struggling by reaching in her purse, she searched with her hand for her car key unlocking it in the process. the lights flashing for a second took matt’s attention to pull open the backseat door; pushing their bodies onto the cushioning of the seats.

she laid on her back, matt crawling on top of her after closing the door. it was such a cramp space but neither seemed to care too much.

he reconnected their lips to move in synchrony, their hands roaming each others body.

“matt-” she whispered breathlessly, tugging at his hair.

his touch grazed over the thin fabric of her mini dress, trailing down to grip onto her hips. the opposite hand pulling up the material over her waist, revealing her lacey panties.

her hands began unbuckling his belt and undoing his baggy jeans. somehow, he’d shifted them so she was now straddling his lap.

he trailed his hands down to her hips, once again holding onto them while they moved with rhythm, grinding onto his crotch.

“fuckkk– y/n..” he dragged out.

the car filled with heavy breathing and the smacking sound of lips, causing the windows to fog. matt was sat up, back against he car door. she felt the stiffness in his pants through her panties that were damp and sticky.

breaking the kiss, she reached down to tug the fabric down her legs; it was difficult in such an awkward position, but her eagerness made it happen.

he watched her with gleaming eyes as if she were a display of art in a museum. pulling down his jeans, including his boxers, he freed his hardened cock that sprung up.

she aligned her entrance with his length, sinking down slowly; she gasped. he sucked in air between his teeth, seething at the feeling of her tightness gripping around him.

she was swallowing him whole as her hips dove lower to collect him fully into her.

“keep going— that’s it-ahh, take it all..” he groaned and she was fully sat with him deep inside her.

she began rolling her hips forward, reconnecting their lips in the process. the kiss was sloppy. her mouth opening constantly to let out breathless moans from bouncing on his cock.

it sounded like they just ran a marathon with the amount of heavy breathing. he tried his best to buck his hips upward to feel her deeper inside.

“fuck!–so deep—nngh- need to–”

he took everything in his power to thrust deeper and harder with a quickened pace to bring her closer.

she threw her head back with pleasure, clenching around his base as her orgasm washed over her.

“matt–ma– ah–“ she stammered out while she stiffened up with trembling thighs, digging her nails into his shoulders.

he wasn’t far behind her. groaning while slamming up into her, she was caught in a trance by the overstimulation.

“ohmy– nngh—fuckkk, i love y-you–i lov–” he echoed into the car, shooting white ropes of his seed into her painting her slimy walls.

there was a ring of a bubbly, white substance around his cock, a mix of both of there liquids.

they panted trying to come down from their highs. she felt a pang in her chest; the sudden realization hit and hit hard.

this was it. the last dance.

she started to remove her self from him,

“wai-wait. don’t leave yet.” he helped her off, “it’s late, y/n. just stay the night, please.”

she thought for a minute. he was right, though they weren’t aware of the current time, it was late. she thought about the dangers of driving so late on a friday night,

“alright.. fine”

after fixing themselves up, they found their way back to the house. the ‘get together’ the boys were hosting had already died down. no one noticed them slip into matt’s room.

“here,” he handed her one of his larger shirts, "wouldn’t want you sleeping in that..”

“thanks..” she accepted the offer, still feeling hurt with the tension from someone she was once so comfortable with.

she changed, slipped under the covers, and took a deep breath.

he got in right behind her, they were faced away from eachother, she thought.

“y/n?” he whispered, clear enough for her to hear.

“hmm?”

“i love you..” he watched her body expanded with every breath she took. he was facing her the entire time.

“i-i love you too..” she whispered, her voice steady but her eyes brimmed with tears.

the night fell silent. both bodies drifting to sleep after losing energy from their previous actions.

it came morning time quickly, matt shifted in his spot as the sunlight peeked through the curtains.

he recalled being with her last night, joy awakening him. he rolled over to the other empty side of the bed.

empty? this can’t be right, she was here..

he felt like he remembered a bad dream from last night. quickly grabbing his phone to call his girlfriend.

the line rang once.

“you have reached the voicemail box of—“ rang too loud in matt’s ears, he quickly shut it off. his heart began to race.

baby? •!Not Delivered

his mind soon flooded with the memories they shared, then it got to last night.

that wasn’t a dream after all.

[cabotwife]

omgggg feeding us with johanna delusionss, thank you 🙏

could i request a fic set in the 75th games where reader falls off the spinning clock. some angst, hurt/comfort all that good stuff 🙏🙏

ur a savior frrrr❤️❤️

Wait For Me

johanna mason x fem!reader

warnings: poorly written in a rush while hiding in the bathroom at work.

word count: 1023

a/n: sorry abt not posting yesterday, life got busy..

the world tilts.

at first, it’s subtle, the sea leans too far to the left, your balance shifts, your foot slips. the rocks beneath you, slick with mist and heat and blood, betray your weight. you reach out—nothing but air. then your back hits the water, hard.

you don’t scream. there’s no time for that. you hit, sink, and thrash. the salt stings like acid in your eyes, and for a moment, you don’t know which way is up.

the arena is spinning. that cursed mechanical hellscape of a jungle, built to make you dizzy, make you weak. and it works. it works too well.

you drag yourself up the side of the rock ring, fingernails clawing at grooves in the stone. but your shoulder’s wrecked—dislocated or something close to it—and your leg won’t take weight. you collapse halfway up, breath hissing through your teeth.

no one is coming for you.

the sky above is false blue. jungle trees blur past like a child’s toy spun too hard.

you’re not sure how long you lie there. time is warped in this place, measured in mutts and cannon fire. you drift in and out, the pain making it hard to think. you hear footsteps at some point—fast, angry. then a voice, sharp and low.

“oh, for fuck’s sake.”

you blink. through the haze, through sweat and grime and pain, you see her. mud smeared up her arms, axe in one hand, eyes wide with fury. not fear. fury.

she drops to her knees beside you, so fast you barely register it. “what the hell happened?”

you try to talk, but your throat’s sandpaper.

“i fell,” you manage, voice hoarse.

“no shit,” she snaps, but softer this time. her hand brushes your hair back, trembling.

you want to tell her to go, that you’ll slow her down. but you don’t. because you’re selfish. because Johanna is here.

she presses a hand to your ribs, tests your leg, eyes flaring at the way you flinch.

“you’re not dying,” she says, as if daring you to argue. “but you’re not walking either.”

“i’ll crawl,” you mutter. half joke, half pleading.

“shut up.” she leans closer, voice low. “you really think i'm leaving you behind? you’re mine. you're all i’ve got.”

the anger’s not at you, you know it never was. it's at the capitol. at the games. at everything that makes her watch the person she loves bleed out on wet stone.

she lifts you, carefully, arms under your back and knees. you bite down on a scream. her jaw clenches.

“you’re heavier than you look,” she mutters.

“gee, thanks,” you whisper, and her mouth twitches. almost a smile.

almost.

she starts moving, step by step through the wet rocks, holding you like you’re made of something that matters.

the world has stopped spinning, but your body hasn’t caught up. every nerve is raw. the horizon still tilts when you blink, and your stomach coils with leftover nausea. but the cornucopia is still again and the jungle quiet for now.

johanna lowers you onto a bed of tangled ferns just inside the treeline, just far enough to stay hidden from the center. she’s breathing hard, crouched beside you, arms tense like she’s still ready to fight. you don’t know how long she was searching, but she’s drenched in sweat, streaked with grime, and her hands are shaking.

“you could’ve died,” she mutters, voice flat.

you look at her. “well, i didn’t.”

her jaw clenches. she rips off a strip of her already ruined body suit and starts wrapping your leg. you flinch, and she pauses. her eyes flick up to yours, searching, angry.

“i thought you were behind me,” she says.

“i was.”

“you were. then you weren’t.” she yanks the fabric tight, maybe harder than necessary. you bite back a hiss.

you should tell her to go. to find katniss, finnick—anyone who actually has a plan. but she’s here, and she chose to be. you don’t understand it, not fully, but you really don’t want her to leave.

“i slipped,” you say finally. “the spinning knocked me off the rocks. i tried to crawl back up, but...”

“yeah,” she says. “i saw the blood.”

you blink. “you followed the blood trail?”

she gives you a look. “no shit.”

you try to laugh, but it comes out hoarse. “that’s messed up.”

“yeah, well. so’s this whole thing.” her hands move more gently now.

you look up at the sky, blue and unnatural. the arena's playing calm again. you know better.

the brunette finishes tying off the makeshift bandage and sits back on her heels. she’s still watching you, that same look in her eyes. not panic, she doesn’t panic. but something close.

“you’re not dead,” she says again, quieter.

“i’m really trying pretty hard not to be,” you answer.

she shakes her head, then leans forward and presses her forehead to yours. for a second, neither of you breathe.

“you scared the shit out of me,” she murmurs.

you don’t say 'i was scared too'. she knows. she felt it in your grip when she pulled you up, in your half-conscious murmurs when she carried you off the rocks.

her voice tightens again. “if i’d gotten there two minutes later…”

“you didn’t,” you cut in. “you got there in time. that’s what matters.”

she pulls back and wipes her face roughly with the back of her hand. “you’re gonna be slow on that leg.”

you nod. “you’re still dragging me around, though.”

she snorts. “yeah. i am.”

[crescenthistory]

b.11 w/ paul atreides please <3

i hadn't realised how much i missed writing for paul, my best boy. thank you for your request love<3

Prompt: B.11 "Come back to bed"

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: not proofread, tooth-rotting fluff, insomnia, talk of anxiety and feeling the pressure of leadership, cuddles and kisses

Note: again, in my mind this is the same paul and reader as in in the silence, there is an us just because i love them and they both clearly cannot sleep without each other

The cool desert air wrapped around you as you stirred from your barely-there-sleep. The bed felt too big, too cold, and as you stretched out a hand to be lulled back to sleep by Paul’s breathing you knew why – he was gone. Your fingers drifted across the blankets, but only touched emptiness where his warmth should have been.

You sighed, rolling onto your back as your eyes adjusted to the faint light filtering into the room. The Sietch was quiet, but you could still hear the distant murmurs of the desert, the occasional soft sound of wind brushing over the sand. In theory a comforting sound that should help you fall asleep, but you knew from experience that without Paul there, your body refused to settle. Neither would your mind, spinning with worry for your sweet boy who was rapidly turning into a strong man, overworked and drawn too taut the past few months.

Paul had been doing this more often lately, slipping away in the middle of the night, drawn in by the weight of his responsibilities, the relentless pull of being Muad'Dib. You saw that familiar gleam in his eyes slipping more and more, and you ached to inspire it back into existence. That burden was not just his to carry, but you knew that was difficult for him to fully accept, which is why you made it your mission to remind him.

With a soft groan, you sat up, wrapping your shawl around your shoulders to chase away the chill. You knew Paul was not coming back on his own, so you would bring him back. No one can save the world with 2 hours of sleep.

You padded softly through the halls of the Sietch, navigating the familiar paths that had somehow become home. While your mind still spun with all the changes you had had to face, Paul remained your constant and you were determined to keep it as such, grounding him into all he was and all he did. It didn’t take you long to find him, he was exactly where you expected – his private makeshift study, hunched over a table littered with charts and maps of the desert. 

You lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching him. He had his back to you, shoulders tense with focus and hair still mussed from sleep. You could see the twirls you had made in it by the nape of his neck as you were falling asleep. 

There was a certain beauty to him like this, lost in thought, the weight of leadership heavy on his lean frame, but you knew what it was doing to him, too. You saw the way his eyes darkened when he thought no one was watching, how the weight of being the Kwisatz Haderach pulled him further and further into himself. The worry served a purpose in the daylight, but you couldn’t let him disappear into that tonight.

With a soft smile, you crossed the room, your bare feet making almost no sound as you came up behind him. Yet you could see he knew you were there by the way he sat up a bit straighter, ready to lean into the touch he knew was coming. Without a word, you slipped your arms around his shoulders, pressing yourself against his back.

“Paul,” you whispered, leaning your head against him, breathing him in. “It’s late. Come back to bed.”

He let out a breath, leaning into your touch as his hand instinctively moved to rest over yours where they clasped at his chest. 

“My love, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured, though his eyes were still fixed on the maps in front of him.

“You didn’t,” you said softly, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Just missed you.” 

Paul let out a soft hum of acknowledgement, though he didn’t make a move to get up. His thumb absentmindedly traced circles on the back of your hand, his mind still half-lost in whatever plans were swirling in his head. “There’s… too much to think about,” he finally said, voice low. “I just need to finish–”

“No,” you interrupted gently, tightening your arms around him. “What you need is to come to bed and get some rest while you can.”

He sighed, tilting his head slightly to rest against yours. “You sound like my mother,” he teased, though there was a hint of exhaustion in his voice.

You smiled against his skin, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. “Then you should listen to her,” you said playfully, your breath warm against his skin. “Despite her peculiarities, she is very wise.”

“Mmm, you might be right,” he admitted, turning his head just enough to catch your eye. His lips twitched with the barest hint of a smile, and your heart fluttered at the sight. “But she doesn’t quite have your charm.”

You grinned, brushing his hair back with your fingers. “Flattery won’t get you out of this, Paul. Come back to bed. Your maps will still be here tomorrow.”

His smile faded slightly, his eyes drifting back to the table. “I don’t know if I can. I can’t stop thinking about it all,” he admitted, quieter now. “The future, the Fremen, everything I have to do. It’s… always there.”

You frowned softly, shifting to hug him from the side, so you could see his face better. “I know, love, but that is not yours to carry right now,” you said, your voice gentle but firm. “Not tonight. You’ve done more than enough.”

He didn’t answer immediately, but you could feel the tension slowly draining from him as your fingers continued to comb soothingly through his hair. His body relaxed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he leaned into your touch. He tilted his head back just enough to rest it against your shoulder, closing his eyes.

“You always know how to make me calm down,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of affection. “It’s dangerous, you know. I might never get anything done if I listen to you all the time.”

You chuckled, brushing a kiss against his temple. “I think you could use a little less getting things done and a little more sleep. I promise to use my persuasion to kick you back into sleep tomorrow.”

“I’ve noticed you seem particularly invested in my sleep schedule,” Paul teased, opening one eye to look up at you. “Should I be concerned?”

You smiled down at him, your heart warming at the familiar lightness in his tone, the teasing he only ever reserved for you. “Very concerned,” you said in mock seriousness. “Especially since I can’t sleep without you there.”

His face softened, the teasing giving way to something more tender. He turned fully in your arms, slipping his hands around your waist and pulling you close in between his legs until your foreheads touched. “I can’t sleep without you, either, you know,” he confessed quietly, his breath warm against your lips. “You… ground me. In ways no one else can.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled softly, brushing your thumb over the curve of his cheek. Familiar words, yet they never ceased to warm you. “I know,” you cooed. “Then let me ground you tonight. Come back to bed with me.”

He stared into your eyes for a long moment, and you could see the struggle there – the pull of duty versus the need for rest. But in the end, he sighed, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips. “Alright,” he whispered. “I’m coming.”

“Good,” you said with a grin, tugging at his hand as you led him away from the table, back toward the bed waiting to be warmed up by the both of you. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

As you reached the bed, Paul wrapped his arms around you, pulling you down with him in a tangle of blankets and limbs. You let out a soft laugh as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, placing sweet kisses there, his warm breath tickling your skin.

“If I didn’t know any better,” he began, his voice muffled against you, “I’d say you’re trying to distract me from my very important work.”

“Very important work,” you echoed with a laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “It can wait, Paul. I’m your very important work tonight.”

He chuckled softly, his grip tightening around your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to your ear. “You make a compelling argument.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

For a while, you just lay there together, his body pressed against yours, the quiet of the Sietch wrapping around you both like a protective cocoon. The world outside faded into the background. Here, in the soft glow of the night, it was just you and your Paul. 

“Thank you,” he whispered after a while, his voice sincere and, to your glee, sleepy.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his bedhead. “Always.”

Neither of you woke up again throughout the night as you slept soundly in each other’s arms.

[studiogrimm810]

Baby

pairings/characters: (pining)dean winchester x impala!reader, sam is also there

summary: when a novice witch doesn't know what spell she's casting, she accidently awakens life in an inanimate object

warnings: none really, this one is just super silly imo

word count: 2,778

A/N: this is a request!!! and if i'm being so honest, this was kinda difficult to write lolol,, i'm such a stickler for lore accuracy and just explanations but some things were left to be unexplained. i just decided to take that pressure off and just have fun w this one. enjoy!! heheh

———————

Dean chased the young witch through the rows of books that decorated the campus library. He skidded around a corner that she swiftly slipped past and bumped into a shelf, knocking over dozens of books in the process, but he didn’t halt. He pushed harder, letting his feet stomp the outdated carpet as he crawled closer and closer.

Sam, close behind Dean, kept the same speed but with a slithering stealth as to avoid the clumsy piles of books left in his brother's trail.

The brothers were almost on her, ready to tackle and question. They were drawn to the college campus after seeing articles and news coverage of strange happenings at the university, they had come to find a novice witch who hadn’t intended on hurting people. So, when Sam and Dean cornered her on the top floor, scouring through the archives of textbooks for anything religious or cultist, and confronted her- she ran.

Here she was again, pounding helplessly against a set of locked glass doors.

“Stop running,” Dean pants, “we just wanna talk,” he tried to coax her to stay but it didn’t work. She fumbled with something in her pocket and threw out a puff of dust at the door with a trail of words. The metal lining of the doors melted and glass shattered, settling into the floor in a prickly goo. She obviously wasn’t expecting that, but she used the opportunity to dart. “Fuck,” Dean hissed, sprinting after her.

She was headed to her vehicle, a simple hatchback with one too many stickers on it, and hopped in. Dean, ever so ready for a car chase, whipped out his keys and instructed Sam to get in as quickly as possible.

The witch pulled up a book and out another jumble of herbs, chanting something incoherent.

Just as Dean opened the door to Baby and dipped in, Sam in sync, he instead bypassed the seat entirely and landed on the stiff concrete with a groan.

Tires skidded and the witch was gone.

Dean looked around him, no steering wheel, no leather seats, no car. Only the keys remained in his hands, but the Impala vanished.

“That bitch!” Dean was seeing red, seething as he jumped to his feet and paced, scanning the parking lot for any desperate hint of his Baby. “When I get my hands on-.”

“Dean-,” Sam stated cautiously, trying to get his brother’s attention.

“It ain’t gonna be kind, I’m-.”

“Dean!” Sam barked and Dean spun around to face him.

“What!?” Dean thundered, riddled with rage. Sam looked over at the bundle of items on the cement. There were a few duffles, a splay of weapons, a few books- all items that Dean knew were homed in the trunk of his precious Baby. But, under the emergency blanket they leave in the back seat, was you.

“Who the hell are you?” Dean booms with clenched fists. Your eyes are wide and observant, looking over his tense form. The blanket over you slips, his rage haltered with confusion as his eyes dart to the slipped cloth and he realizes you’re naked.

“D’ya mind?” You grimace in annoyance, holding the blanket over you the best you can.

“Shit, right,” he spins on his heels, looking right at Sam, mouthing ‘what the fuck?’ in which he gets a confused shrug in return.

You stumble up to your feet with a heavy sigh, hugging the blanket around your chest like a towel. You brush back your messy hair which is as ruffled and tangled as you feel in this worn blanket.

“Fuckin’ hate witches,” you grumble, adjusting the blanket that’s hugged tight over you breasts and when Dean turns back to you, he has to forcefully advert his gaze.

“Who are you?” Dean repeats his question, a little less forcefully this time.

“Baby,” you shake your head with a small tilt that Dean almost matches. The tone of which you say makes it sound like you’re worried about his confusion.

“Baby, your name is Baby?” Dean scoffs, not believing a word.

“Well yeah, you gave it to me,” you hook a hand on your hip and cock your head, waiting impatiently for him to catch up. Dean's face falls, twisting in confusion and turning back to look at Sam who is just as confused.

“C’mon, Winchester, I know you’re not this slow,” you pinch your nose, sighing and dropping your hand by your hip, keeping the other hooked on the edges of the blanket.

“How do you know my name?” Dean asks, stepping closer, his brow furrowed.

“I’ve been owned by a Winchester for the past forty-some years,” you say as if it’s common sense. You look back and forth between the brothers, annoyed with how dense they’re being. “Jesus, take your time,” you roll your eyes and go over to one of the duffles, bending down to shuffle through the bag. The blanket hugs your ass, the gentle fabric lining your curves and kissing your dips. Dean’s eyes linger and he forgets the issue at hand.

You pull out one of Dean's flannels, dropping the blanket to your hips and slinging the flannel over your shoulders. Dean swallows thickly and gawks at your smooth skin, noticing a strange birthmark on your shoulder. It resembles the chicken scratched initials that Sam and Dean carved into the Impala all those years ago.

What the fuck?

“Wait so-, you’re telling me that you’re the Impala?” Deans brow raises. You dip back down to retrieve a pair of boxers- making sure they’re clean- and slipping them up your legs, discarding the blanket fully. As you turn to face the boys, they take notice of the many marks on your body, all the tone of a birthmark, but lined on your skin like tattoos. The Devil’s Trap that was painted on the inside of the trunk spanned your entire thigh, and other wardings and markings litter your forearms.

“Good boy! You did it,” you praise sarcastically, dropping the feigned excitement instantly. Dean ignores the effect your words have on him. Sam is speechless and Dean honestly feels a little put in his place. You look back between them, awaiting a response.

“You guys should really get your shit back to the motel or something. Someone sees this and they’re gonna have some questions. Sorry I can’t hold it anymore,” you look back at the pile of items on the pavement. You look back at the boys to find them still dumbfounded with dropped jaws and words caught in their throats.

“Seriously, you two need to catch up if you wanna get me fixed. This skin feels weird,” you shudder dramatically, folding your arms over your chest.

“So,” Dean clears his throat, losing his confidence when your expectant eyes burn into his own. “You’re-.”

“Getting impatient,” you nod, walking past them both to the closest car- a Jeep- and popping the lock to get in and hotwire it. Quickly, you get it roaring to life and bring it over to the boys, putting her in park and hopping out. The loose flannel barely hugs your torso and you have just enough buttoned to cover the more sensitive parts of your chest, but Dean’s eyes still linger on the soft flesh exposed by his flannel.

“You guys gonna get to it?” You ask, gesturing to the pile of their items. They oblige mindlessly, collecting their items that used to be housed by the Impala- you, they suppose. They’re still so confused by the whole ordeal and they just follow the order and pile into the stolen car. You round the front and get in the passenger seat, expecting Dean to drive.

The ride back is tense. You’re sat in the front seat, letting your fingers trace the modern interior of the car.

“What is this? Just plastic?” You ask, glancing over at Dean who has to keep his eyes on the road in fear that if he even catches too much of you in his peripheral vision that he’ll crash the car out of negligence.

“Yeah,” Dean says, clearing his throat. His hands grip the wheel and his foot presses a little harder into the gas.

“Don’t give her so much love, Dean, I’ll start to get jealous,” you tease with a soft nudge. You turn back to face Sam. “Comfy back there?”

“Fine,” Sam nods curtly, eyes glazing over your form. “What, um, what was it like? How is this even possible?”

You adjust in your position, resting against the chair and thinking of a way to word it. Then you remember.

“Y’know when Gabriel put you guys in that ‘Night Rider’ illusion? That was pretty accurate, Sam. I just can’t talk or think too much. I just know. But, when I was given this body, I came equipped with language, thoughts, and conscious recollection of my lifespan,” you explain proudly, sitting up a bit straighter with a smile.

Their silence causes your smile to falter. You nibble at your lip and turn back around.

“You’re upset,” you note to neither brother in particular.

“No, no, we’re just confused. We’ve never- this just doesn’t really make any sense,” Sam rationalizes because of course he does. He’s always the practical one, trying to give everything a cause for its effect.

“Yeah, listen, sweetheart. To us, the Impala has been a car. Our home on wheels. We’ve just never given it a second thought to it being you,” Dean offers, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable or unwelcome. The boys couldn’t describe it, but they felt a connection with you, one of which made the reality of your situation settle with them semi-rationally.

You don’t have a response to give, so instead you just look out the window and watch the trees pass- wondering who they could become too.

———

The motel is as rundown and dull as you expected, but it was still the first room you’ve gotten to explore yourself so you aren’t complaining.

You look along the peeling wallpaper, different patterns and colors lining the odd textured wrap. There’s a painting of a field of flowers with a windmill, it’s pretty, but sunbleached you’d assume due to lack of color.

The brothers are whispering something between each other, but you can’t really make it out.

Dean goes to grab a beer, popping the cap and getting your attention. You tilt your head and walk over. Dean has taken a swig but you reach up to grab it from his lips.

“The fuck?” he gurgles through a gulp of beer. You take a swig and cringe.

“Yuck, with how often you two drink these, I really had higher hopes,” you shake your head, handing the bottle back. Dean watches you with a raised brow as you walk back over to look around the room more.

“So you’ve never-,” Dean starts but he realizes he doesn’t even know what his question was.

“If it’s not something a car does, then it’s not in my history,” you interrupt, looking over the books on Dean’s bed, selecting John’s journal.

“But you know us?” Sam contributes.

“Yes,” you say without looking up from the journal.

“How?” Dean barks exasperated.

“How do you know how to breathe?” You combat, looking up at him with a stoic face but rolling your eyes in annoyance before looking back down at the journal.

Dean can’t help but watch as your eyes scan over the page. Your hair feathers around your face and the contrast of your skin to your hair makes you almost sparkle. Your attitude is like a cherry on top of this melted sundae.

“John and Mary-,” you let the names roll off of your tongue, “It’s unfortunate I won’t get to meet them,” you say, flipping through the pages, “I suppose you two will do,” you joke with a smirk.

Dean's own smile works against his initial dread for the situation, enjoying your snark.

“You ain’t missing much,” Dean shrugs, taking a swig of his now sticky beer. He can’t tear his eyes off of you, the way your lips silently move as you read and when your gaze hardens at certain points of the text.

You tilt your head and move the book to look down at the birthmark on your thigh. You trace the skin thoughtfully.

“Keeps demons out,” Dean fills in.

“Yeah, I know,” you blurt, not as a remark but just a statement. “I bet it won’t work like your tattoo- oh! Tattoo’s, I want some,” you snap your head up from the book and Dean's eyes widen in amusement.

“Tattoo’s,” Dean echos with a smirk, “really? You’re a human now and that’s the first thing you wanna do?”

“You offerin’ sex?” You ask with feigned seriousness. He chokes on another gush from the beer, sitting up and tripping over his words. You cackle having earned the exact reaction you baited for. Sam also chucked at Dean's fluster, not used to seeing his brother so put in his place.

“N-no, that’s not… I don’t even, like- you don't-,” he trips over his words, setting his beer down and trying to find a casual way to situate his hands.

“Calm down, De, or else you’ll make me believe you’re actually considering it,” you wink, setting down the journal and stretching. “Now that tattoo?”

“I mean-,” Dean shrugs, looking over at Sam who is as careless about the request as Dean is. “It’s your body now, may as well have fun while you have it,” Dean clears his throat, rubbing his hands together after successfully landing on that as the casual placement.

“Hell yes!” You cheer in victory.

———

After finding more suitable clothing for you, the brothers usher you to a nearby tattoo parlor. They wanted to find a reason to tell you no just because of how odd this whole situation seemed but they couldn’t say no to you.

The walls are lined with reference art, some good and some great. All different colors and styles. The kind woman behind the desk greets the trio casually and not overly happy like you’d expect a usual receptionist to be.

“Dean, show her,” you instruct, glancing back at Dean, wanting him to show her his tattoo. The woman looks expectant at Dean in a way that makes him feel a little small- almost like she’s matching your light agitation and subconsciously taking your side with little to no prior knowledge of the situation.

Woman power! You think with a stifled giggle.

Dean rolls his eyes but that’s all that’s defiant about him as he unbuttons his flannel- a different one from earlier because you’ve refused to give his back, but Dean wasn’t complaining about the way it hugged your waist since you’ve tied the loose pieces into a knot on your stomach- and showed the woman his tattoo.

“Sick, and where do you want it?” The woman nods in approval and looks back at you. You think for a moment but point at the center of your sternum, right beneath your tits. “Got it, let’s get you some paperwork and I’ll start a sketch.”

You haven’t stopped talking Dean's ear off as you half-ass your clipboard of paperwork. You point out different works on the wall and tell him where you’ll put it on your body next. He has to force out the mental image of the one you say you want on your ass.

“Miss Winchester?” Your adopted name is called by the receptionist from earlier.

You handle the pain like a champ and Dean makes a joke of how many car crashes you’ve survived- the artist doesn’t get the joke but you snort.

Sam offers to go out and get some food for the trio and you insist Dean stay with you. The placement of your tattoo leaves your chest exposed and as flustered Dean gets at first, you're honestly a little impressed with how well he keeps himself together.

The artist doesn’t talk much outside of small contributions to yours and Deans conversation. She doesn’t seem to mind too much though.

Sam makes it back with the food and the artist leaves you to have a break from the intense blackwork she’s doing on such a sensitive spot.

Conversation doesn’t stop and Dean has to take a moment to fully admire how well you fit with them, like a missing handlebar they never knew they lacked.

Dean starts to wonder just how bad it would be losing the Impala if it meant keeping you.

The way you light up at a joke Sam tells proves that Dean will be just fine with one of the other rust buckets on Bobby’s lot.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

>tags: @blossomingorchids @areswasneverhere

[eldulcopatato]

LOVE ISLAND: THE CREATOR CHAOS VILLA┊GEORGE CLARKEY

summary: The morning after the first coupling brings tension, gossip, and a steamy villa challenge — and when you decide to play "Lip Service," everything changes.

previous / next

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Chapter 2: Morning After Mayhem

The sun had barely risen, casting a soft orange glow over the white-tiled villa, but already the kitchen was alive with the low hum of gossip and the clink of spoons against cereal bowls. The islanders had barely survived their first night — some beds shared in awkward silence, others filled with whispers and flirty giggles. And a few? A few were filled with thoughts of the wrong person.

You walked into the kitchen in an oversized tee, hair messily tied up, and made a beeline for the coffee machine. You didn’t say much — not yet. Your eyes did a slow sweep of the open-plan space, clocking everyone in their little pairs. Chris was already awake, standing behind the counter, shaking up a protein shake. He handed you a mug of coffee without even asking. Sweet, safe Chris. You offered him a small smile.

"Sleep okay?" he asked.

"Like a baby," you lied. You hadn’t. Not with George’s voice drifting in your head every time you closed your eyes.

George, who was now coming down the stairs shirtless, towel over his shoulder, still damp from a shower. His eyes met yours briefly — then flicked to your mug, to Chris, then away again.

Malia, Sadie, and Odessa were already gathered around the breakfast bar, whispering too loudly not to be overheard.

"He literally stared at her all night," Malia said, spoon halfway to her mouth.

Sadie gasped. "Stop."

Odessa smirked. "I thought he picked Jenna? That man is fighting demons every time she walks past."

You ignored them. You sat next to Malia and stole a strawberry from her plate. "You guys need hobbies."

"We have hobbies," Sadie said. "They're just mostly about your love life now."

Before you could respond, the phone at the center of the bar buzzed. Everyone’s head snapped toward it like trained meerkats.

Chris picked it up. "Islanders, it's time for your first challenge! Girls vs boys. Get ready to play ‘Lip Service’ — the ultimate truth-or-kiss showdown."

Groans, whoops, and immediate panic followed. Arthur nearly choked on his toast. Jenna smirked from the corner where she was braiding her hair. George said nothing, but his jaw twitched.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The villa transformed into a makeshift challenge arena by the pool. A bright pink spinning wheel stood in the center with phrases like "Kiss your crush," "Truth bomb," and "Steal a kiss from someone else's partner." The producers were clearly not playing.

Everyone sat around a oval table, girls on one side, boys on the other, half of them trying to act chill, the other half already sweating.

First up: Chris. He spun the wheel.

Kiss your crush.

He laughed nervously, turned to you, and gave you a quick, polite kiss on the cheek. You smiled — but your eyes instinctively flicked to George.

Next, Malia. She spun.

Truth bomb.

"Who’s the most fake person here so far?" the voiceover read.

Malia cackled. "ItalianBach. There’s no way anyone’s that charming naturally."

He laughed and blew her a kiss. "I’m wounded."

Spin after spin, the tension built. Arthur was smooth. Sadie kissed Harry just to shut him up. Jenna? Jenna picked George to kiss. Full-on. Long. Deliberate.

You clenched your jaw. Cool. Totally fine.

Then it was your turn.

You spun.

Kiss your crush.

The air shifted.

You could feel everyone’s gaze. Chris gave a hopeful smile. Arthur raised his brows. Jenna smirked. George? His jaw tensed, but he didn’t look at you.

You hesitated just a second longer than necessary — then walked over to Chris.

You stood in front of him, smiled gently, and leaned in. The kiss was soft, steady, just long enough to mean something. Chris responded with surprise and warmth, his hand brushing lightly against your waist. You let it linger — not for the cameras, but for effect.

Gasps. A few whistles. Malia whispered, “Oh, it’s like that now.”

You pulled back slowly, gave Chris a playful smile, and turned to walk back to your place in line — but not before your eyes flicked to George.

And that’s when you saw it.

He wasn’t looking at you, not directly. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched, mouth set in a firm line. He was staring ahead like if he moved, even slightly, something would snap. Jenna was giggling beside him, clearly pleased with herself, but George didn’t even blink.

The tension rolled off him in waves.

So that’s how it was going to be.

You sat back down and leaned into Malia’s shoulder, pretending to laugh at something she said. But your chest was buzzing. Hot. Electric.

It wasn’t the kiss with Chris that did that.

It was George’s silence.

And the storm brewing behind it.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Back at the villa, the aftermath hung heavy.

Chris was buzzing quietly, clearly pleased, though he tried not to show it too much. Jenna was glued to George’s side now, talking loud enough for you to hear her fake laugh. George sat beside her, posture stiff, arms folded like he was physically restraining himself from doing something stupid.

You stretched out on a sun lounger, sunglasses on like armor, coffee in hand but untouched.

Sadie flopped down next to you. “You good?”

You gave a little shrug.

“That kiss... that was a move, babe.”

You cracked a smile. “Just giving the people what they want.”

Sadie tilted her head, studying you. “Or giving George what he deserves?”

You didn’t answer. But your silence said enough.

Because it wasn’t just the game anymore. It was personal. George had made it that way. Letting Jenna kiss him like it meant nothing. Letting it happen right in front of you.

So, you kissed Chris. And maybe it wasn’t the most romantic thing in the world — but it felt like a reclaiming.

Not of George.

Of your own power.

Your eyes flicked toward the daybed where George sat now, laughing at something Jenna said. But it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Not really.

Good.

Let him stew in it.

Let him wonder if the kiss meant something.

Because now he knew how it felt to watch someone else have your attention — and not be able to do a damn thing about it.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

word count: 1k

[mountainrusing]

accident

519 words, @wolfstarmicrofic

Friends kissed all the time. It was just a thing, obviously, a cheeky peck on the lips, or to teasingly piss people off. Just a thing. If the bottle lands on your friend during spin the bottle, you put on a show. If there’s mistletoe above your heads, then pucker up.

So really, it wasn’t a big deal when Remus and Sirius were dared to get caught past curfew in an act of public indecency.

“Alright, what should we do?” Sirius asked, standing in front of Remus.

Remus shrugged against the wall, before his eyes widened, and he hissed, “Hufflepuff Prefect round the corner. Think it’s… Qingjin Yao?”

Sirius laughed, “Bloody werewolf senses. You’re awesome.”

“Thanks. Now shut up and do something indecent in five secs.”

“What should I—”

Remus kissed him, and breathed, “Indecent,” into his mouth. Sirius felt the word diffuse from his lungs into his bloodstream, flowing into his organs and muscles as they tensed and clenched in response. He kissed back with equal fervour, ‘indecent’ chiming in his mind on repeat. Indecent. He reached down. Indecent. Their hips rolled like a spinning record. Indecent. The record stuttered in time to their own stutters.

Indecent, but it was more than decent, because Sirius was thrumming with energy, whirring faster and faster until the momentum thrusted them upwards, and they collided with atoms in the air, sparks flying and skin sparking. He pushed into Remus with a surge of power, the air hot and dense as particles compressed and pressure built, and Remus was pulling him like a magnet, the charges in his body lining up to face him and tug, as if Remus was the core of the Earth and gravity was dragging Sirius into him, and when they met, the world would explode into a million tiny stars—

“Um. Uh. I didn’t see this. Boys. Please step apart.”

Sirius flew away like a flipped magnet. But he immediately flipped back, and wanted to crowd Remus’s space forever—

“Hi, Qingjin,” Remus politely smiled, patting his hair down and fixing his clothes. Sirius frowned, and thoughtlessly reached up to dishevel Remus’s hair again. “Accident,” he muttered, smirking at Qingjin before shamelessly staring at Remus.

“Could you please escort us to the Gryffindor dorms before we get caught up in indecency again?” Remus asked, somehow sounding agreeable despite the way he was smirking.

Qingjin shook her head, “Um. I suppose. We’re gonna forget this happened though. I need bleach.” She began to walk, and they followed her quietly. She spun around suddenly, “No funny business, or I’ll take points and file detentions. Only reason I’m not doing that is ‘cause I really don’t want a reminder of this.”

“And ‘cause you’re a Hufflepuff,” Sirius smiled sweetly.

She ignored him, and carried on marching them to the common room, where James and Peter were waiting outside the portrait.

“Oh, thank you Qingjin,” James gushed, “We were so worried as to where they went! So… what did you catch them doing?”

“What trouble were they causing?” Peter piped up innocently.

She sighed. “Gay shit.”

James and Peter burst out laughing.

[vampykween]

remind me

because @tomiesdiet is the little angst devil on my shoulder hehe

simon ghost riley x reader

“how am i supposed to live without you? i- i don’t think i can do this…” your sobs cut your words short and you try to speak again but the lump in your throat is slowly suffocating you.

the smell of alcohol and harsh chemicals infiltrate your nose and nauseate you. you’ve always hated the smell of hospitals. always so sterile and lifeless, which you guess is fitting.

you stare out the small window to the room and ponder about the people steadily walking past. could they see in your eyes that very soon your life was going to end? your reason for living would soon cease to exist. or was this just another meaningless day? while your entire world has halted and been spun wildly, there are people experiencing the best days of their lives.

you desperately wish simon could respond to you, squeeze your hand back, smooth your hair and kiss your head like he always does - or how he always did. you were sure you’d never get used to speaking of him in past tense. there was no manual for how to live after simon.

suddenly the room begins to spin and you feel like you’re watching a scene from a tv show as the nurses tell you to say your last goodbye. your stomach clenches so painfully you’re sure you’re going to vomit everywhere. you want to scream at them to stop, to shake them and tell them to save him, but there wasn’t anything they could do that’s what they told you.

-

the drive home feels endless and with all the tears clouding your vision it’s a wonder you make it back safely. simon would get onto you if he knew you were driving so carelessly. except no he wouldn’t. he’s dead. you remind yourself of that. simon riley is dead, gone, no longer living. that was fact.

you’re not sure what to do with yourself as you wander aimlessly throughout the house. every room feels so lifeless now, there’s no sound of a football game on and even though everything looks the same way you left it, it feels emptier.

something bright pink catches the corner of your eye and it’s like there’s a lead weight crushing your lungs. you slowly walk over and pluck the note off the counter ‘don’t forget your lunch. love you xx’ you always had a bad habit of that and simon loved leaving you little reminder notes from time to time. you normally keep them in your nightstand drawer to read when he’s away but now you’re not sure if you’ll ever have the heart to look at them again.

the notes crumples in your hand as you fall to your knees and let out a visceral scream. the force of your cries wracking your body and leave you heaving and shaking. simon riley was gone and all those notes were all you had left of him.

[everwhovian]

hi! Love ur short fics of the hwang bros. Doing gods work i say. Would u be able to write onewhere it’s somehwee in season 2 but inho keeps hallucinating junho (maybe side effect of his trauma aftee shooting him in season 1) like maybe in the 2nd game or mingle

I'm gonna be completely honest with you here – I wrote the mingle scene already for what remains (act 6) 'cause a scene like that has been in my head ever since I watched that episode!! So I pulled my rambling out of my document, fixed it up a bit and now... enjoy!

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ○△□ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

The lights dimmed.

A mechanical whirr cut through the silence as the platform beneath them began to rotate. In-ho stayed still, head lowered just enough to remain unseen, just enough to watch. He didn’t need to pretend to be nervous. His pulse was erratic, not from fear of the game – but from everything else.

The spinning slowed. Then stopped.

A terrible hush settled across the players, the kind that only lasted a beat. And then: “Ten players.”

The crowd exploded.

A dozen voices rose at once. Bodies pressed into each other, everyone grabbing, calculating, scanning for familiar faces or anyone who might be useful. In-ho didn’t move. He watched it all from the eye of the storm, untouched, his thoughts quiet even as the room dissolved into chaos. It was always like this – the first few seconds of panic when the number was called. Even the clever ones stumbled. Fear made fools of everyone.

Gi-hun didn’t hesitate. His head turned, sharp and alert, eyes already searching. He moved with a kind of stubborn purpose that In-ho remembered well – always trying to save people, even now. He was already weaving through bodies when he found her. Player 120.

“How many are you?”

“Four.” She spun toward him, flanked by three others – player 095, player 009, and player 149. They stuck close together, braced against the tide of players pushing past.

“That makes nine,” Jung-bae commented.

Dae-ho pressed in over his shoulder, tense, while Jun-hee hovered close behind, glancing anxiously at the already closing doors.

In-ho stepped forward, seamlessly joining them.

Another player – number 050 – rushed over, trying to recruit their group of five to join him instead. But before anyone could respond, a different group dragged him away.

“We have to hurry,” In-ho said, pitching his voice to match the urgency in the air. “There’s no time, Gi-hun.”

“Need one more!” player 120 shouted.

Her eyes cut through the chaos, scanning wildly.

There – player 044. Alone, frantic, throwing her hands up and praying to an unseen entity.

Player 120 lunged, grabbed her by the arm, and hauled her toward the others.

“Room 44!” someone screamed.

And that was it – the signal, the lightning strike. Everyone moved at once. A stampede. Players surged toward the rooms, clutching each other, some tripping, others shouting. The doors lining the walls began to slam shut one by one as rooms filled. Too many people. Not enough spaces.

Even In-ho was swept into the momentum, carried by the panic. But his mind stayed sharp.

He reached the door first.

Room 44.

He threw it open.

“Go!” he shouted. “Go, go!”

They surged past him – Gi-hun first, then player 120, still dragging player 044 by the arm. Player 095 followed close behind. Player 007 rushed in next with his mother, player 149, clinging tightly to him. Dae-ho. Jung-bae. Jun-hee.

Nine.

He was the last.

In-ho stepped through and grabbed the handle behind him, slamming the door shut. The lock snapped into place with a heavy, final click.

Silence.

Ten players. A full group. Safe – if that word still meant anything here.

Everyone breathed. Some slid to the floor. Others stayed standing, shoulders heaving.

In-ho didn’t move.

Instead, he turned back to the door, to the narrow slot that served as a window, just wide enough to see the room beyond.

There was still noise out there – screams, pounding, the sound of fists against metal. The unlucky ones. The too-slow. The ones still begging for a spot.

He watched them.

At first, it was all a blur. Shapes, motion, shadows slamming into the metal doors of sealed rooms. Desperation in its rawest form. One player collapsed just outside their door. Another yanked at the handle, as if brute force might still open it. His face was pale, lips cracked.

And then – in the chaos –

A boy turned.

Not toward the door, not toward the others, but directly toward In-ho. His gaze cut through the narrow slot like he already knew where to look.

And In-ho stopped breathing.

Jun-ho.

It was him.

The eyes were the same. So was the mouth. The slope of his brow. Even the wound across his cheek – familiar, too familiar. The boy didn’t move. Just looked at him, silent and steady, as if he'd always known In-ho was watching. As if he’d been waiting. As if he never fell.

They locked eyes.

A bolt of something – fear or grief or something so much worse – ripped through In-ho’s chest.

No.

It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.

But it was.

For one, crushing second, the world narrowed. The sounds dulled. The air thinned.

He felt himself moving before he realized it. His hand lifted, fingers brushing the cold metal of the door handle. His other hand came up too, ready to pull, to open the door again – get to him –

Everything rushed in at once – the smell of gunpowder, the weight of his brother’s stare, the cold ocean water closing over his head.

His heart stuttered in his chest.

It was Jun-ho.

He just had to get to him –

He grabbed the handle.

And froze.

The metal bit into his palm.

Jun-ho stared back at him through the window.

Not angry. Not scared.

Just watching.

Waiting.

And then, without warning, everything shattered.

Someone shoved past the boy, blocking the view. The figure shifted – hair too short, shoulders too broad, face wrong.

It wasn’t him.

It was never him.

The illusion shattered as quickly as it had appeared.

In-ho flinched back from the door, stumbling a step, his breath tearing out of him in a sharp gasp. His hand hovered uselessly in the air.

His vision tunneled.

Gunshot.

The recoil jolting through his arms.

Jun-ho’s body arched back – staggered – stumbled.

Fell.

The sound of the sea. The wind. The silence after the shot.

Jun-ho’s eyes widened as he plummeted from the cliff’s edge, arms outstretched. And then – nothing but ocean. Swallowing him whole.

Gone.

In-ho gripped the edge of the doorframe now, hard enough to ache.

His face – the way Jun-ho had looked at him – it hadn’t been angry. It had been disappointed. Terrified.

In-ho’s mouth parted, but no sound came out.

He blinked hard, forcing the memory down, trying to anchor himself in the present.

In-ho blinked. Once. Twice.

It wasn’t Jun-ho. It was no one. Just another body among hundreds.

Behind him, someone muttered something. Player 044 was already complaining. Her voice, sharp and shrill. Gi-hun was saying something calm, trying to soothe. But the words were underwater. In-ho’s heart was still hammering against his ribs, louder than anything else.

He turned away from the door.

Didn’t speak.

And somewhere behind his eyes, Jun-ho was still falling.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ○△□ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

(A/N: so... first round of mingle! Definitely more rounds in which In-ho could see Jun-ho somewhere!)

[missmarveledsblog]

I'll show you different ( joel miller x reader) part one

Summary : y/n ( peach ) is learning to be free , learning to be her own woman again. Since life wasn't so easy for girl she ran from one monster into hands of another now back in her hometown back with her grandfather she learns being free is lot harder than she thought but lucky for her there's a couple of brothers help her along the way .

Warning : mentions and allusions to domestic violence and child abuse. Slightly angst but not much .

It’s funny when you hear thing repeated to you , that you begin to believe them and absence and time makes you take a step back and you realize how truly fuck it all is , when it takes an outside look to see the toxicity . y/n would always be indebted to her friends . she was a runaway , a product of a cycle that kept repeating from her mother to now her. She was afraid when she was younger no one would believe her so to escape her father she ran with the help of fake id , she crossed country ended up away from one monster to the hands of another . she thought he was one to save her , she should of seen the mask he held perfect man saving her like a damsel in distress . looking back it was stupid to believe it all but thank to good surprising people she was able to escape and only one place she could go that had family was austin texas , she was born and bred , only family consisted of her grandfather probably the only man in her life that didn’t hurt her , one that loved her no matter what . she felt guilty not seeing him in so long and yet when she showed up on his door step he said sorry , he apologized for not protecting her as if he was the one to let her down.

He set her up in one if his houses , his old home that he was going to rent out but couldn't due to it Being The one He shared with his wife. She spent many times in the confines of these walls Everytime her mother was in er or her father in jail . The house held the only happy memories from her broken past . She was happy to be home though this was always home whether it was just her or her grandparents This was her safe space , her breather The one place that didn't have fear laced In the foundations .

She Stood looking over the garden , knowing to sass her grandfather for its state . She checked the old shed door almost falling off The hinges But the things she needed taken care of pulling Them out And heading placing Them along the porch only thing she couldn't do was put on the gloves Those ones that kept her grandmother's hands safe tending to the once beautiful rose bushes. No those went into a draw In the house to be kept safe . She wrote list smiling at the freedom Of being just able to leave and come back without a fight Or more To ensue After . Checking the car she'd bought second hand , like it was second nature make sure nothing or none one was lurking Waiting . She watched the town passing By one she grew up in seeing the change and yet it was still the same . Few saying their hellos and what not she could tell it was to fish information out , the faux Friendly manners to fuel the gossip pressing at tip of their tongues . She and her grandfather even held A little bet on it one she was winner of the moment she got his text standing in hardware store .

Eyes scanning the aisle looking at the buckets of paint all looked the same and yet All claiming to be the best for this and that . She moved back trying to make out The buckets up higher only for her back to hid a solid Mass and clash of Metal making her tense up .

“ woah easy there darling” the voice rasped making her spin to see what or who she hit.

“ shit I am so sorry here let me help” she spun picking up the bit And bobs She knocked From his hands .

“ which one you need” he asked softly head nodding To the shelf .

“ white paint one up there says it weather bearing , I need like two cans “ she shrugged going to hand his thing only he Walked up effortlessly reaching for the ones she wanted . “ good brand actually does the job Too” he chuckled placing Them in her cart , glancing at other thing that sat there .

“ I hope so still getting used to the heat again it's something” she nodded finally handing His things to him. “ well thank you and sorry again for before” all she said heading off .

“ hey wait if you need help with anything build , repair heres my card” he smiled pulling it out and holding It out.

“ thanks … Joel but i got it covered” she glanced to the card.

“ actually I'm tommy work's my big brother , but we actually work in construction and since I'm guessing your new To town well handy man is handy to have right” he chuckled.

“ well thank you tommy but I'm Not new to town just back and I'll hold on to “ she sighed before completely leaving him standing there like a boy lost in dreamland.

“ tommy what you doing standing around, John's waiting” a gruff Snapped the man from his dreamy state.

“ met the hottest girl in town joel give a man a minute ” he smiled Brightly .

“ you said that Friday night too “ the older miller Rolled his eyes .

“ no this ones different I can feel it” he chuckled as two headed Get rest of their supplies.

The two brothers heading home for lunch Tommy miller non stop Chatting over the mystery Girl , while joel learned To drown his Little brother out knowing The man would move on , glance at the car cross the street wondering who the mystery tenant was knowing his boss wasn't In a rush to rent that property out at all. Seemed to special for him to do so but didn't question much when he did event catch the new car parked out there once no trouble was brought To the street well it was fine By joel .

Tommy eyes widened as He caught the person standing on the porch. “ that's her man that one from hardware Store” he clapped his brother excitedly On the shoulder.

Hell his brother was right she was beautiful, yet he even from where he stood he could tell she was way too young for him she barely looked mid twenties probably College kid needing place to stay he reckoned.

“ I should say hey welcome her to the neighborhood” tommy winked .

“ though it was her” the voice Of miss Benson taking A stand beside them sad look on her face. “ that boys is john granddaughter y/n, now don't Bother poor girl I'd say it hard being back here” her words more pointed to the younger of The two men.

“ hard, how ?”.

“ y'all not heard What happened surprised with the mouths Around here , her mama was killed By her daddy girl ran away when she was 16 all way across the country , think it was new York guess she finally came back “ she sighed remembering the little pick of a thing that used to stay in that very house.

“ shit That is ..” tommy voice dropped.

“ he got life and he should of gotten the needle” she scoffed. “ hey peach “ she called making girls head shoot over.

“ miss Benson you still here huh?” She smiled although staying away taking in the two men standing til gaze feel On one .

“ I ain't following you darling , that brother I was telling you about We live here” tommy chuckled as three headed over.

“ how you doing sweet girl , good to See you back” the elderly Woman smiled softly .

“ I Don't think all have those same feeling but you alway been Exception to most” peach shook her head shyly .

“ so your grandpa Is our boss and landlord” tommy smiled bright flashing his flirty grin only to return a head nod back .

“ you fixing up your grandmother's garden ,about time someone did I'm sick of giving out That stubborn man” miss Benson chuckled.

“ he got mouthful from me too , but he ain't got green thumb is his Excuse” She rolled her eyes.

“ well if you need anything you got our card” tommy winked again she didn't bat a lash at the action.

“ thank you again I don't think I do “ she smiled softly trying not to come off rude Or anything .

“ welcome party has arrived “ the cheery Voice called .

“ of course it has , although not happy I find out she here Days later “ miss Benson narrowed Her eyes.

“ letting girl settle In before you start with your casseroles is all Ellis “ he chuckled .

“ my fault miss Benson , just needed time to be back” she smiled Weakly it wasn't a lie but it wasn't the whole truth either.

“ I'll drop by Once your settle peach good Seeing you” the old woman smiled.

“ we best get our lunch but need anything darling” tommy smiled .

“ I got your card “.

“ come on , it was nice to meet you y/n” joel nodded.

“ you too , pop I got your Food ready come in when you finished” she smiled heading Into the house not Really used to the social Proprietary ties Being back .

“ hey boys y'all wouldn't mind keeping eye on her while she there , you know young girl living a lone and all that?” john Asked but felt their was more to his words .

“ course we don't not one bit” Joel called back something was different about the girl , he'd give that much to tommy but he couldn't place his finger On it. Something she was hiding. Some thing clouded over her like weight of world was on her Shoulder So to say joel was intrigued was understatement

Part two,

[mykoreanlove]

rotten fruit

“Hyunjin, who is blowing up your phone?”

Hyunjin’s eyes left the gorgeous girl he was talking to and darted to the other side of the room where he had left his phone unattended. It had been buzzing and ringing for the past hours, but he didn’t bother to notice. He took another sip of his beer before getting up and grabbing the device. Hyunjin smirked as he realized that it was you – again.

“So, who thinks you’re THAT important?” His friend scoffed sarcastically. Hyunjin’s eyes didn’t leave the screen as he was answering. “It’s y/n.” His friend came closer, curiosity getting the best of him. “Y/N? Is that the girl you’re seeing right now?” Only now did he look up from his phone, grinning from ear to ear. “One of the girls I am seeing right now.” His friend applauded proudly. “Damn, look at you player!”

Hyunjin thought back to the night he had met you. He was out dancing, shaking off the stress of the past weeks. He had been confined way too long, he desperately needed to let loose. And then you showed up – beautiful, captivating, cute. You were just his type. Given the fact that you stuck your tongue down his throat in the back of the club made him your type, too. You were crazy about him. One look was all it took for you to fall madly in love with him. But for Hyunjin it was different. He was out to hunt, to catch his prey – not to fall in love. He worshipped you all night, licking and kissing every part of your body until you fainted from pleasure. He whispered the sweetest, yet naughtiest things into your ear – his words taking you for a spin. He knew exactly what he had to do, crafting one lie after the other to get you hooked on him.

Which you now were.

“Tell us about y/n, Jinnie.” Hyunjin turned around and looked into the almond shaped eyes of the gorgeous girl he had been talking to earlier. “What do you wanna know?” The girl got closer, almost whispering. “Are you guys fucking?” He chuckled. “I didn’t take you for the bold type.” She fake-pouted and closed the space between them. “You can take me right here after you told me what your deal is with her. I don’t want no taken man.”

Hyunjin spun her around and cornered her against the wall. His lusciously shaped lips tracing her neck, leaving little kisses as he was making his way to her ear. “I am no one’s man, baby.” She grabbed his bleached hair and pulled it to the side, making him let out a hiss. “And why is that?”

Hyunjin tensed up as he had had the same conversation with you before. Tangled in one another you talked about deeper stuff in between sweet kisses. He barely talked about significant topics to anybody, yet somehow, he opened up to you. “Don’t you believe in love?”

That’s what you had asked him.

Love.

L-O-V-E.

You clearly mistook him for a precious gem, failing to recognize that he was a rotten fruit instead. If he had been honest that night, he would have confessed his darkest thoughts. No, I don’t believe in love. I believe in pretending to love, though. Do you really want to know what I’m like? I’ll trick you into giving me your everything. Your time, your energy, your love – even your devotion. You’ll lose yourself in me, giving me your all. I won’t even have to ask; you’ll do it gladly. You will believe my lies and ignore my actions. I will give you pain, and you will interpret it as love. And once you figure that out, I’m long gone. That’s what I believe in, y/n.

He wasn’t honest, though. Far from it. Hyunjin took your head into his palms and kissed your nose. “I never believed in love but maybe now I’m having a reason to?” He flashed you an innocent smile before kissing you again.

“Hello? Jinnie? Earth to Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin snapped back into reality, only now noticing the finger snaps in front of him. “Sorry, I…” He let go of the girl and turned around. “I’m gonna go and grab a beer. See you later.”

Hyunjin grabbed another beer and left the apartment, he had trouble breathing. His phone started buzzing again, your messages flooding his notification bar.

Jinnie, please. Can I see you? I want you. I really fucking need you. Forget about dates, we don’t even have to go out. Let’s stay in and do nothing. I just- I really want to see you again. Pretty please?

Your desperation grew by the minute, just like he had predicted. Hyunjin watched the screen light up, feeling proud and disgusted at the same time. Y/N, y/n, y/n. He shook his head in dismay. You are so needy for me; you can’t even think straight. One night of me fucking you has you already like this?

He got into the next cab and contemplated his next move in silence. A part of him felt sorry for you. A part of him wanted to warn you. Get away, as long as you can. No one is going to save you. I can do whatever the fuck I want to, do you understand? You are at my mercy. You are in danger, y/n. No one can punish me – you get that?

He often found himself in situations like these, balancing between good and evil. But a game was just a game, right? Wasn’t this fun? He got off the cab and watched your apartment from the outside. It was up high, yet he could figure out your silhouette at the window. You were already waiting for me, huh?

Uneasiness grew in his stomach. This is going to hurt in the end. I can feel that. A perverse smile formed on his face as he realized what that meant. You are going to be devastated, y/n. The pain will be unbearable. But you know what? It will be bittersweet. You will forever remember me in your heart. 

Hyunjin got out off the elevator and waited in front of your blue door. He took one last deep breath before ruining you, once again. He whispered silently as he knocked on the wood, letting you know that he had finally arrived.

Forgive me, y/n.

[foxsoulart]

Blorbo for Mystic Summons au, takes place after Leo loses his arm.

Leo opened his eyes, half-lidded and drowsy still. The world spun in a kaleidescope of blurred colors and shapes. He scrunched his eyes shut, tensed, and willed it to go away. It did. Gradually. Once the spinning and subsequent nausau stopped, Leo reopened his eyes and settled into his body. The crinkle of sheets under him and the shift of a blanket when he moved told him he was in a bed. Not his though if the scent and color choice said anything. Which it didn't literally but still.

The dimmed lighting either meant it was night or someone was worried about waking him.

Tilting his head to look on either side of him felt like a momentous task. Muscles aching in tandem with his brain fog. Geez, what did I do before this? Run a marathon or six? I am so tired.

To his left was the rest of the room. Which if his eyes would focus he could tell what that was, but alas, it wasn't meant to be.

To the right was the door. And a slumbering figure in a chair that looked like it was dragged in from another room. Because, wow, that does not match the decor in here that I can see at all. I hope it is not normally in here. Otherwise I'm gonna need to have a talk with somebody.

After straining to pick out details with his still unfocused eyes for far too long, Leo gave up and closed his eyes with a sigh. Letting his head flop back onto the pillow with a thump. The motion jolted awake the guy in the, absolutely hideous, chair.

A grey sweatshirt over baggy worn blue jeans, long black hair pulled in a messy half pony, and startingly blue eyes.

Ah, I know this guy. Casey.

"Still a walking self-care disaster." Leo mumbled outloud, potentionaly unintentional.

Casey heard but elected to ignore that comment. He instead slipped around the end of the bed and checked Leo's pulse using his left wrist. Comparing and counting with a watch he was wearing.

The yokai scrunched his brow in confusion.

"Dude, you could have just done that with my right. Less work."

He lifted his right to wave it around to prove his point. Or tried to anyway.

He was met with the sensation of.....nothing. He felt his shoulder move, but nothing after that. Feeling just.....ended. Leo's beak twisted in further confusion, his mind on the brink, the precipice of remembering something important, of clearing his fuzzy head.

Casey was saying something but Leo wasn't paying attention, too preoccupied with the mystery of why his right arm wasn't responding. He turned his head and lifted it to see better, ignoring his body's aching protests. What he saw...was nothing. A small bit swathed in white bandages extended a little past his shoulder. But that was it. His arm just ended. It wasn't there.

What. Why isn't...

Then the brain fog cleared and let the memories come crashing back in.

The glint of metal, the all consuming burning pain, a horned face cruel and cold.

Horrible re-realization and panic pulled him into a sitting position, lurching up. His left arm held onto his shoulder, feeling the absence of that arm. He hunched forward, eyes blown wide, pupils pinpricks, his breathing shook and convulsed in his chest. Tears fell unbidden. He leaned forward pulling his knees up to grind his forhead on. His whole body tensed, fingers and toes curling in, then released inone long shuddering breath.

"I'm never going to see a triceratops the same again, am I?"

".....No." Casey said, remorseful. The experience had already been ruined for him, but it must be 10x worse for Leo and his brothers.

".....Cool." It wasn't. "My favorite was brachiosaurus anyway." Leo tried to joke. Emphasis on tried.

He really needed a better coping mechanism. But laughter was supposed to be the best medicine right? Too bad his laughter died deep in his chest. And dang, the tears just wouldn't stop. No matter how hard he tried. So he dropped his resistance and let them flow. He just lost his entire freaking arm, facade be damned.

This felt better that holding it back anyway.

Leo was a quiet cryer, quieter that even Donnie(who wasn't as quiet as he thought himself) He didn't sob loudly, it was just silent anguish. Over time his brothers figured this out and learned how to tell. Leo would say he preffered to cry alone if it wasn't a lie, he absolutely hated it. It was just so hard to take that first step. Once he started, moving anywhere by himself was out of the question; he just couldn't.

Leo had curled further into himself. The solitary arm hugging his knees to his chest had him crying harder.

Now a Leo from another time might be thinking himself selfish for crying over his arm before making sure his brothers were okay; but those same brothers had drilled into his brain (and their own) that if no one was dying right that second, to take care of himself first. They were all still working on that, but they were working on it.

Casey was panicing.

"Um, it's okay. I'll uh I'll go get your brothers? Would that help?" I have no idea what I'm doing.

Every action was faltering, not sure what would help or make it worse. He moved toward the door, deciding to find someone else who would know what to do, at least more than he did.

Leo noticed Casey leaving and was clutched by fear, he hated crying alone.

"Don't leave!" was choked out past his tears in desperation.

The utter and absolute panic in the slider's eyes told Casey that the best course of action would be to stay. So he did. His hand lifting off the doorknob to hang awkwardly at his side. Casey came back around to sit back down in the chair Leo had first seen him in.

"I won't." He promised.

Leo sagged in relief. Silence only broken by shuddering breathes settled over the room. Surprisingly the atmosphere was not negative.

Casey was still uncertain if he should be doing something more, so he fidgeted nervously. Carefully studying Leo when he sat back up, wiping away his remaining tears with his remaining hand, sniffling.

"Do you....um.....do you want a hug?"

For Casey a hug always made him feel better after crying.

Leo looked surprised by the offer but recovered quickly, smiling softly and shy. "Sure, I'd love one."

Casey stood and leaned over, wrapping his arms around Leo. He gave his best, most comforting hug he could, mindful of Leo's injuries.

It reminded Leo of Raph's hugs. Of a big brother. Of warmth and safety. It wasn't nearly as crushing and all-encompassing, but it was still absolutely amazing and exactly what he needed.