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#tooth fairy protection
abysswalkersknight · 3 months
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very quick thing I wrote down at nearly midnight because I saw this Brooklyn 99 clip.
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‘Pa-papa! Papa come in here!’ Yawning widely Lilia slid off his spot upside down his bed’s canopy, rubbing his sleep heavy eyes as he trudged toward the room next door, where his little one sat quivering with the fragility of a weak legged fawn ‘ah, my darling Silver, what is ever the matter?’ he coos, sliding in next to his son, pulling the frightened child close and nuzzling those soft silvery tresses ‘there’s a monster in my closet!’ the boy cries, clutching his father’s shirt and burying into his side. Despite his inner irritation at being awoken at such an ungodly hour Lilia chuckles good heartedly and continued stroking Silver’s head ‘now, now my dear I doubt there’d be any monsters here let alone inside your closet, perhaps one of your squirrel friends snuck inside?’ he murmurs, glancing at the closet doors with a bemused expression. Ever since he introduced his precious babe to his life Lilia has made it abundantly clear to all just what would happen should anyone dare intrude upon their home, he retained his skills as a soldier of Briar Valley after all. 
Unfortunately his son was not convinced in the slightest ‘no I saw it! It was big and hairy’
‘Big and hairy? My, so perhaps it was a bobcat?’ Silver swiftly shook his head into Lilia’s side. Sighing he gently nudged his boy ‘well I believe you may have just had a nightmare my dear’
‘No it was real!’
‘I’m sure it felt that way’ Lilia says with a wide yawn ‘tell you what. How about I go open the closet and show you there’s nothing to be frightened of’ there was a pitched squeak as he stood and gently he pried the little one’s fingers off his shirt, it was obvious Silver wanted to still cling onto his father but as the fae drew dreadingly closer towards the closet, fear won over and instead Silver hid beneath the warm sanctuary of his covers, oh well he’s still quite young ‘here darling, see? Nothing is there, now I am going to open this closet and show you there is nothing to be afraid of,’ he says, placing a hand on the knob, ‘don’t do that papa!’ shrieked his little boy, ducking under the covers, Lilia chuckles at the cute eyes peeking under ‘see? One. two-AAAAHHHHH!!!!!’
The local wildlife trembled in their burrows as three voices shrieked bloody murder to the heavens. 
Bracing himself on the closet door, Lilia takes huge gulping breaths, on the bed Silver is sobbing his little heart out in terror but the old fae could not move to comfort him with the large figure he’s trapped in the closet in a tight chokehold ‘hurk! Ack, Lilia!’ the third voice gasps, tapping Lilia’s arm. Breath caught Lilia looks down at the intruder ‘Malleus Draconia’ he snarls, slowly releasing the prince ‘and just what made you think you could scare us like that?’ said prince ducked at the dangerously low tone that spoke volumes of just how livid his guardian was, right before a loud smack mingled with the child’s wailing as Malleus rubbed the back of his head ‘go on, get out of Silver’s closet! I’ll deal with you later’ once the dragon slumped outside to the living room, Lilia sighs and busies himself with soothing poor Silver.
‘- and that is why Malleus is not to hold Silver for two weeks at most’ Lilia grumbles while Baul’s daughter and her husband burst out into wild cackles. Oblivious to the prince sulking on the stool he was forced to sit on ‘speaking of Lilia, I believe I can hold him now-’ Malleus starts, already reaching out for the child napping peacefully on his father’s lap, only to have said father lightly slap his hand away ‘no, Malleus, you still have two days left remember? And now poor sweet Silver refuses to sleep in his bed anymore’ he laments the last part to the Zigvolts who giggle once more.
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hyunverse · 8 months
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lucky number five ☆ hwang hyunjin.
pairing: hyunjin x fem! reader. tags: fluff, drabble. words: 3k words. warnings: reader is referred to with she/her, called as wife. about: the five most memorable memories you share with hyunjin. note: i haven't written in a while, so my writing's definitely a little rusty. i hope you'll like it! please reblog, and feedback is very much appreciated <3 disclaimer — © 2023 hyunverse on tumblr. all rights reserved. authors works are protected under the copyright law. do not plagiarize or translate my works. tumblr is my only platform.
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𝐨𝐧𝐞.
Five is Hyunjin's lucky number.
Hyunjin first met you when he was five. He had pointed out that you were wearing the same shirt as he was — and you've been attached to the hips ever since.
His first tooth fell out on the fifth day of Summer. He could recall holding the baby tooth on a tissue in one hand, looking up at his mother with puppy eyes. His mother patted him on the head and told him he had grown up. The tooth fairy gave him a single gold coin chocolate, too. Tucked it under his pillow where he placed his baby tooth. He remembers having a lisp until the tooth grew back — remembers how jealous you were that he had "grown up."
The first feeling of victory Hyunjin had ever experienced was when he won fifth place in a colouring contest. Truth be told, he could've easily won first place — but he wanted you to win over him just to see you smile, so he coloured messily. Though the trophy for first place looked glorious, he thought that the smile plastered on your face as you held a medal beat the shine on the trophy.
It was the fifth of May when you two started dating. Hyunjin remembers everything about the fated day, bit by bit. He could play each scene, each dialogue in his head like an overplayed radio song. He was merely sixteen, studying in an all boys school with little to no knowledge about dating. Boys his age didn't care about dating. They only cared about soccer and video games. While he cared about all of that too, a lot of the space in his heart was overtaken by you. Figuring out how to ask you out was tough, he had spent a lot of time pondering. He even gathered up the courage to seek advice from his friends, yet to no avail. They were barely any help. In the end, he observed television dramas and prayed for the best.
Under a cherry blossom tree, you sat on a bench. Your eyes were fixated on the sky as your legs dangled over the wooden bench. The clouds on the sky were huge, luminous — enveloping the sky the way lovers do.
"Jinnie!" Hyunjin heard you cheer as he approached you. The nonchalant look on his face immediately turned into a bright smile, his footsteps becoming more hurried.
Standing in front of you, Hyunjin was the perfect depiction of nervous. Both his hands dug deep into the pockets of his jeans, front teeth nibbling onto the inside of his cheeks and the little rocks underneath his foot tumbled as he kicks on them.
Hyunjin gulped, "Hi."
You tilted your head with concern, "are you okay, Jinnie?"
The concern laced in your tone reminded him of all the reasons why he liked you so much. You cared like no other — loved as though nothing could hurt you in this world.
"I am," he replied, rubbing on the back of his neck, "I just —"
"You don't have to rush it," you tapped on the seat beside you, "sit with me. You can take your time to tell me whatever that's on your mind."
So, Hyunjin sat. His legs reached the ground unlike yours, and his eyes fixated on the stain on his sneakers. He was painfully aware of the rapid beating of his heart. The urge to tell you his feelings were bottling up quickly.
Then, it spilled.
"I like you a lot," the words were muttered before Hyunjin could stop them.
"Hm?"
"I like you," he repeated. This time, he sounded more sure, looked more sure. The raven was looking at you, blinking sanguinely.
It took a while for you to process the words, for your jaw to relax and finally respond.
The first response came in a way where you slowly turned your head towards him, blinking profusely.
You stuttered, "like me? Like like, or just friends like?"
He sighed, "like like. I like like you."
"Oh."
There it goes, the rejection. Hyunjin had expected it, but it hurt nonetheless. You were the only person Hyunjin had ever liked, his best friend since kindergarten. His feelings for you ran deep. He was merely sixteen, yes, but he was well aware of how strongly he felt for you.
You didn't expect it, but he tapped on your shoulder comfortingly, as if to say, "I know you don't like me, it's okay."
You were right.
"I know you don't like me, it's okay," he comforted, "I just wanted you to know."
"No, I do like you," you confessed.
"What?"
"Yeah," you replied, breathlessly, "was just shocked, that's all."
"Oh."
Silence blanketed the two of you as the conversation exchanged slowly seeped into your brains. Hyunjin looked like he was simply admiring the view in front of him but really, his brain was going haywire.
"No, I do like you," the words repeated in his brain over, and over. They filled his brain with dopamine, the kind of rush that even his favourite football team winning could not replicate.
The five words which will be engrained in Hyunjin's mind forever.
"I like you a lot."
The five words which will be engrained in yours.
"So..." you broke the silence, "what now?"
Hyunjin's pointer circled against the wood of the bench, itching to hold your hand, "we... you know. Date."
"Yeah. Okay."
For best friends who have known each other for years, it was abnormally quiet for the two of you.
But it was okay. Hyunjin was content with the small smile lingering on your pretty face, and your hand in his — finally in his.
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𝐭𝐰𝐨.
The sound of a pan sizzling and a kettle crackling seeped into the guest bedroom, though the sound of Hyunjin and his mother's voice caught your attention the most.
You were spending the weekend at the Hwangs'. Your parents were on a company trip that weekend and didn't trust you alone so naturally, they dropped you off there. You were about to take your morning shower, a towel slung over your shoulder when their voices stopped you in your tracks.
"You really like her, Hyunjin?" his mother asked, her voice the epitome of motherly.
She truly is the stereotypical loving mother — soft, and nurturing. Lunchbox ready on the table every morning, not a single football match of Hyunjin's missed. Treated you like the daughter she never had, braided your hair by the porch as Hyunjin ran around with his beloved dog.
"Um," Hyunjin muttered, silverware clinking against plate as he cut through a sausage.
You clasped your ear against the door, eager to hear more.
"You don't have to be shy with me, Hyunjin."
"I do like her," you heard him say, "a lot."
Crimson crept up your face, and you could picture his face doing the same. You could imagine the tips of his ears going red, and his mother looking at him with a grin.
"You want to marry her?" she asked jokingly.
"I do," he answered. Confidently. Surely. Absolutely no hesitation. As though it was the one sole thing he was sure of in his life.
"Oh, my Hyunjin," his mother cooed, "you're all grown up now!"
You didn't know what happened next, how their conversation continued because you were too busy stifling yourself from giggling giddily. Your back was pressed up against the door, replaying the eavesdropped dialogues in your head over and over. Overcame by excitement, you failed to notice the footsteps approaching the door.
Before you knew it, your head came in contact with the wall as the door swung open. Hyunjin stood in front of you, confused as you rubbed your forehead.
"So aggressive, and for what?" you grunted, looking up at him with a pout.
"Who told you to stand by the door like an idiot?" Hyunjin huffed. Nevertheless, he reached towards your forehead, checking for any bruises.
"You'll be okay. Next time, don't stand by the door like an idi—" he paused, "wait. Did you hear anything?"
You batted your eyelashes innocently, playing dumb.
"Hear what?"
Hyunjin sighed out of relief, ruffling your hair, "nothing you need to worry your pretty self about. Just go shower. I saved you some pancakes."
"Aw," you pecked his lips, "you're so sweet, and so caring. You must want to marry me."
He smiled, but the face soon contorted into one of annoyance.
"So you heard!"
"Heard what? The fact that you're obsessed with me and want to marry me so bad?"
"You're so annoying, y/n."
"You still want to marry me though."
Hyunjin rolled his eyes, "shut up, or I'll take it back."
He wouldn't.
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𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞.
Exhaustion lugged on Hyunjin as he exited the entertainment building. He's been a trainee for a couple of months now, and the burn-out was no joke. A day with you was exactly what he needed. A couple of days spent with his home, his solace — and he refused to come empty-handed.
Thus, he roamed around the park, in search of wildflowers. Anything he could get his hands on, just as long as he could form a bouquet from them. Hyunjin ducked and moved around, pulling out any flower he deemed beautiful enough. A black hair tie tied together the ensemble of florals. He wished he had managed to get his hands on some ribbons but alas, he couldn't. For now, the black hair tie on his wrist would suffice.
You arrived right when you promised you would. Clad in a pretty yellow sundress, Hyunjin swore that you came right out of a daydream. He watched you wander around in the park for a while, admiring from afar. Even with a confused expression plastered across your face, he still found you gorgeous. A part of him wished that he was simply your secret admirer, so that he could keep watching you from afar for hours. Not being able to be around you would suck though, so perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea after all. 
“Y/n!” Hyunjin finally called you out, waving his hand to catch your attention, “here!” 
You whipped your head towards his direction, lips twitching into the cutest smile once you caught a glimpse of your boyfriend. 
An arrangement of colourful flowers was handed to you once you were in front of him.  You vividly remember how beautiful it was — petals of yellow, pink, and white which coincidentally matched your dress. Hyunjin on the other hand remember how you looked, the pupils of your eyes practically shining at the ensemble. 
“For me?” you asked, looking at him with big, bright, eyes.
Hyunjin nodded, “for you, of course. Flowers for a flower.”
“Oh,” was all that you could utter, overwhelmed by appreciation. You gently pet the petals, “they’re so pretty.”
“Really?” Hyunjin queried, “I don’t have any money. I wish I could buy you pretty roses and tulips, but I really cannot afford them right now. This is the best that I could do, and I’m sorry my love.”
“Don’t you dare say sorry, Hwang Hyunjin. The fact that you spent time to find these flowers means a lot to me, and makes them even more special. I love them, they’re beautiful. Thank you.”
He nodded, smiling sheepishly. All the worries he previously harboured immediately disappeared at your words. 
“Okay, love. Let’s go then, find more flowers and I’ll make a wreath out of them for you.”
Years later, and the flowers had long wilted away — pressed and put in a frame for display, resting on a table with vases of flowers accompanying it. 
Hyunjin never stopped gifting you flowers. 
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𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫.
A yellow bus drove away, leaving two figures at a bus stop in the middle of nowhere. 
The outskirts of Seoul — only ever acknowledged as a place vehicles pass by. No stores, no houses in sight, just a lonesome bus stop surrounded by greens. 
Hyunjin would’ve never stepped foot in this place if it wasn’t for you. If it wasn’t for you climbing into his window and hysterically crying, he wouldn’t have purchased tickets to the middle of nowhere. He would probably be in bed and wake up at noon. 
“I want to run away,” you told him, hours before.
“Okay,” he replied, “I’ll go with you.” 
Normally, Hyunjin wouldn’t support your attempts at rebelling against your parents. Honestly, the words, “don’t be dumb and just say sorry,” sat at the top of his tongue, but they dissolved at the sight of your mascara running down your cheeks. He knew that even if he was to disagree, you would’ve packed your bags and left anyway. He would rather follow to keep you safe.
Plus, the boy knew that the rebellion would only last a couple of hours.
“Let’s sail off without a map. Just walk and see what we’ll discover.”
“Okay.”
God knows how many of those he already said to you that day. 
You walked, hand in hand, him siding with the highway. You looked far too relaxed for someone who was running away. Hyunjin, on the other hand, was terrified. If anything were to happen to the two of you there, nobody would be there to help. His free hand dug into his pocket, tightly clutching onto a butterfly knife. 
Minutes soon turned into an hour. Two people walking soon turned into one — Hyunjin ended up carrying you on his back after seeing that you’ve blistered your feet. He nagged about your choice of footwear, but amidst the nags, he still opted to carry you anyway. Your hands rested around his neck, chin on his head as he walked aimlessly, just waiting for you to finally cave in and ask to go home. 
“Hyunjin, look!”
“Hm?”
The boy turned around, gasping at the sight which greeted his eyes. A field of flowers stretched as far as his eyes could see, green plains decorated with splotches of colourful flowers. 
Before he could say anything, you were already running towards the field, screaming in glee. He followed in pursuit, taking in the breeze and letting blades of grass sway against his legs. 
“Hurry!” 
Hurry, Hyunjin did, running towards you and lifting you off the ground. Hyunjin took advantage of the seemingly infinite space to twirl you around, and run around until the two of you turned breathless, lying on the grass to look at the sky. 
“I love this place,” you mumbled between heavy breaths, “feels like something you only see in your dreams.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, rolling onto his side and propping himself up with his elbow. 
Quietly, he admired you. The tranquil expression your face held matched that of the sky. He couldn’t stop the hand reaching towards your face, calloused thumb caressing your face with the same softness of a feather. Each stroke of his thumb whispered, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 
“Thank you,” your words reeled Hyunjin out of his daze, “for coming here with me.”
His eyes on you softened. 
“You don’t have to thank me. Just be around forever,” sat at the top of Hyunjin’s tongue and dissolved. 
Instead, he pressed a kiss onto your lips.
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𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞.
Hyunjin asked you to marry him five years after you started dating.
It was the peak of his career. He was everywhere around the world, collecting awards and breaking records. The little boy who loved football slowly turned into a superstar. He had to bid goodbye to his quiet life, making space for all the glory the world had to offer to him. His name sat at the tip of everyone’s tongues, talk of the town — Achilles reincarnate. 
That was when he decided that he would have to marry you. For amidst all that glory, you were the only stagnant thing in his life. You continued to annoy and nag him as you always do. You continued to be the first person he thinks of when he wakes, and the last person he thinks of as he shuts his eyes. You’re always the person he has in mind as he looks for souvenirs, and when he watches old couples sitting on benches in different cities.
You, you, you. 
Always you. 
Boxes scatter around the living room, some opened and some not. It’s been a few hours since the moving truck unloaded all of the boxes. Honestly, you could’ve gotten so many things done if it weren’t for the two of you constantly procrastinating. 
“Just a five-minute break, babe,” Hyunjin whines, landing on a (still wrapped in plastic) sofa. 
You roll your eyes, “you’ve taken breaks like three times just this hour, Jinnie.”
He whines again, making grabby hands, “need my wife here right now or I’ll die.” 
The sigh which leaves your lips cannot fool him, because the slight grin on your lips gives away that you like his clinginess. You seat yourself in his arms, burying yourself in his neck. The familiar scent of fresh laundry and cologne fills your nostrils, washing away the exhaustion from the day. 
“Me, my wife, and a new house,” you hear Hyunjin mumble, “feels like a dream.”
You voice your agreement by humming. It’s when you stare at the boxes surrounding you that the reality finally sinks in. You’re married to the boy you met in kindergarten. His toothbrush will be in a cup next to yours, his mug will be in the dishwasher with yours, and your dirty laundry will be in the same machine. You’ll wake up next to him every day for what you hope will be your entire life. 
You smile at the thought, sinking yourself into Hyunjin even more. He’s holding you with one hand, the other rummaging through a box when he takes out a Polaroid, showing you it with glee.
A Polaroid of you and him under a cherry blossom tree, five years ago. 
“Isn’t this from the first day we started dating?” Hyunjin asks, blinking his eyes at you.
You tilt your head to observe the polaroid, “oh… Yes, it is, babe!”
He’s laughing, particularly at how red his face looks in the picture. 
“Oh my god, we have to recreate this picture soon, love.”
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fanfics-and-love · 1 year
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How Did Love Become So Violent?
Ghostface!Tara Carpenter x reader
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Not my gif
Warning(s): ghostface!Tara, canon typical violence, mentions of death, mentions of blood, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of stitches
Word count: 5k words
Summary: A new ghostface has been terrorizing Woodsboro. After one of your friends is killed, you fear how close the killer might be. You could’ve never guessed Tara was the one behind everything
masterlist
Tara Carpenter had been a constant in your life ever since you had memory.
When you lost your first tooth, she helped you hide it underneath your pillow and slept with you, holding you so you wouldn’t be taken by the Tooth Fairy. When you broke your leg trying to skateboard at fourteen, she was there on the drive to the hospital, holding your hand and telling you everything was going to be okay. When you failed your math final and your father hit you for the first time, she was there, screaming at him and dragging you towards her house.
When everything else went to shit, Tara was there, next to you, helping you through it. So when murders began to happen again in Woodsboro, she was, of course, there.
You were staying at her house for the weekend, enjoying the calmness after so many days of chaos within the school walls. Another ghostface— god, you couldn’t believe it. People wouldn’t shut up about it either.
“Y/N,” Tara called from the kitchen. You muted the TV, turning to look at her. When she entered the room, she was smiling. “The popcorn’s almost ready.”
“Cool,” you said, getting up to grab two cans of soda from the fridge. 
“Hope the movie’s ready when I get there,” Tara turned back towards the kitchen, humming as she stared at the microwave. She seemed happy— happier than usual. You could only assume it was because summer vacation was getting closer. She hated school.
“Wanna know what we're gonna watch?” You asked, setting a glass on the coffee table. Tara hated drinking soda directly from the can.
“What are you watching?” She said. She only stopped looking at you when the microwave beeped. She put the bag of popcorn out, and poured the content into a bowl.
“Just the news,” you said, raising your shoulders.
“Turn that off,” she said, walking towards the sofa. She set the popcorn down harsher than necessary, sitting beside you. “You know how you get with this stuff.”
You nodded, deciding to open the Netflix app on the TV. Tara was right— you hated the whole ghostface fiasco. If you had to be honest, it scared you to pieces, though you would never admit it out loud in fear people would call you a coward. You sometimes wished you could just move out of Woodsboro, its bloody history making your bones chill. But of course, you were still underage so leaving was not an option, and even if it was, that would mean leaving Tara.
You couldn’t leave her, not after she was abandoned by her father and her sister, and her mother became a drunk. You had promised it the night Tara ran to your house, crying as she told you that Sammy is gone. You had held her throughout the night, whispering in her ear that she wasn’t alone.
“I’m right here. I’m never going to leave you,” you had pulled away then, looking into her brown eyes, surrounded by red from all the crying. “We’ll always be together.”
Something had changed in her face then, something that had made you realize it wasn’t simple words— it was a promise. One you weren’t sure how far Tara would take it to make sure you kept it.
“Sorry if I was harsh,” Tara said, as you scrolled through the multiple movie options. You turned to look at her. “I’m— I didn’t mean it that way.”
“You weren’t harsh,” you said, leaving the remote on the sofa to grab her hand. You wrapped your arms around her left one, resting your head on her shoulder. “You’re right. I get really spooked by those things. I know you’re just trying to protect me.”
And it was true. Ever since you were kids, Tara had protected you. Once, when a group of children had pushed you off a swing, she had punched one straight on the nose, hard enough to make it bleed. She had them feigned regret, telling the mother of the kid she was swinging her hands around and he just ran into her fist. You had backed her up, and after a while the mother had given up and had left the two of you alone.
It got worse after her father left, and once her sister did as well… Tara changed. She was still sweet, and caring, and the best friend in the entire world, but sometimes she would get this look on her face when you declined hanging out with her, or when you talked about how cute that guy from the TV show you were watching was. You weren’t sure what exactly it was; if it really was anything at all and not just your mind playing tricks on you, but whatever it was, you hoped it never got worse.
“I am,” Tara said. She kissed you on the head. “I will always protect you.”
You hummed, eyes getting heavy. Tara was always so warm, it felt nice to rest against her.
“Oh! Titanic,” you said. You two alternated every movie night to have control over the movie choices; you would always pick the romances or the romcoms, and Tara would choose scary movies that always ended up with you screaming and hiding your face in Tara’s neck.
“You’re a hopeless romantic,” Tara said, laughing. She grabbed the popcorn and set it on her lap, leaning back against the sofa as you pressed play.
━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━
Wes Hicks was found dead the following day, stabbed through the heart and neck, the cut so fiercely that the killer had almost fractured the bones on his spine. He was the fourth victim, and the closest to your group of friends.
Wes’ mother, Judy, had woken you and Tara up that morning, eyes red as she frantically asked you to go to the police station. You had gotten into her car, confused; she had almost dragged you towards it, so fast that you were still wearing your pjs and Tara’s jacket— she had lent it to you after she saw you shaking in the morning breeze.
“I can’t believe Wes is dead,” Chad said. After the interrogations, you had gathered around with Tara, Amber, Mindy and her outside the police station.
“Me either,” you said.
Amber rolled her eyes when she saw you were crying. “Honey, don’t be a crybaby. He was a dork anyways.”
You looked taken back by her words. “Wes is— was a good person. Don’t talk about him like that.”
“What are you gonna do?” She asked, moving closer to you. “Stab me?”
“What the fuck, Amber?” Mindy said, pushing her away. “Stop acting like that. Our friend is dead.”
“And we might be next,” she said, raising her shoulders. “Who the fuck knows. He was the weakest one anyway.”
“Don’t say that,” you said, sharply. You knew deep down that if someone from your friend group were to die, it would be Wes, but that didn’t mean she had to be so cruel about it, especially when his mother was a few feet away, mourning him.
“Where were you last night?” Mindy asked, crossing her arms.
Amber looked at her, and then laughed. “In my fucking house, where else?” After a moment of silence, she crossed her arms as well, moving to be in front of Mindy. “And why the fuck are you asking me that?”
“You seem rather relaxed and almost happy that your supposed friend is dead,” Chad said. “You can’t blame us for asking.”
“Oh, but I can,” Amber said, in a soft voice. “Because I can also ask where you were, and where your girlfriend was.”
“Leave Liv out of this,” Chad said, walking towards the dark-haired woman.
“Maybe you are the killer,” Amber said, eying the twins. “You two; the brains,” she pointed towards Mindy, “and the muscle.”
“I was with Liv,” Chad said.
“And I was with Frances,” Mindy said, harshly.
Amber looked at you then. “And what about you?”
“I was with Tara the entire day,” you said, feeling uncomfortable under her stare. You hated that Tara was being surprisingly quiet and wasn’t defending you.
“How convenient,” Amber said, shaking her head. “Everyone but me has a perfect alibi.”
“Maybe it’s because you are the killer,” Mindy said.
“Fuck off,” Amber said. “I’m not. But…” she turned to look at you— no, right behind you. Something crossed Amber’s face then, and she laughed. “Oh, I know just who the person is,” she said. “I know exactly who the new ghostface is,” she chuckled, turning around.
“What?” Mindy asked, looking taken back by her sudden change. “Amber!”
“What?” Amber said, getting out her car keys. “Angry I figured it out before the queen of horror?”
Tara ran after Amber, stopping her. The three of you looked as they talked, and then Amber left pushing Tara away.
“What did she say?” Chad asked.
“I asked her to go to the police,” Tara said, putting an arm around your shoulders. “I told her if she knew something she should go tell Judy, so we can get justice over Wes, but she said she doesn’t fuck with the police. Whatever that means.”
“It means she’s lying,” Mindy said. “She doesn’t know who ghostface is, and is just trying to fuck with us.”
“I think so too,” Tara said. “I just hope ghostface didn’t hear her.”
“Should we tell Judy?” You asked, leaning into Tara’s body. “Maybe he’s heard and Amber is her next victim.”
The four of you went quiet. You looked around, noticing how many people were in the surroundings of the police station. It ought to be busy, considering what had just happened, but that could mean ghostface was around, watching you and choosing his next target. A chill went down your body, and you burrowed your body into Tara’s. She held you closer, feeling your uneasiness.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Tara said. You could feel the vibrations of her voice through her body. “Amber is just fucking with us, and Judy has enough to deal with already. Giving her a possible lead and it turning into Amber being an idiot…”
“It’d break her heart,” you said, understanding her reasoning. “You’re right. Besides, it’s not like ghostface would just be stalking us… right?”
“Yeah,” Mindy said. She too was looking around, taking in all the faces surrounding your group. Inconspicuously, she pulled out her phone and took photos of the people. “Just in case.”
“Good thinking,” you said, making Mindy smile.
“I say we go back home and wait until we know something else,” Chad said. He turned to look at you. “Your mom is still off on that business trip, right?” You nodded. After your father left, your mother got a job that required her to be away for long periods of time. It paid the bills, so you didn’t complain much. “Then go to Tara’s, or Tara goes to your house. Once Liv is done being interrogated, I’ll take her to our house,” he looked at Mindy, who nodded. “And tomorrow we gather around and try to figure out who this fucker is. But until then, no one goes anywhere alone.”
“What about Amber?” you asked.
“Her house has a dope security system,” Tara said. “She’s safer inside her house. We’ll text her later about tomorrow. Maybe she actually knows who’s ghostface.”
“I doubt it,” Mindy said, never once the one who was okay with losing.
“I doubt it as well,” Tara said. “But we won’t know until tomorrow. So today we do what Chad said. Got it?”
All of you nodded, but you still felt something gripping at the back of your throat. Something was off, something that Amber could have figured out, but what was it?
“Hey,” Tara said, opening the car door for you. “It’s going to be fine, okay?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, eyes staring straight ahead. 
You could be the next victim. You could already see the headlines: Y/N Y/L/N, dead at 18. You looked over at Tara. She could be the next one.
“What?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. She closed the car door and locked it, turning once again to look at you. “What is it, baby?”
You felt tears in your eyes. “Don’t leave me.”
“I would never leave you,” Tara said, cradling your face in her hands. “Never, okay?”
“What if you’re the next one?” You asked. You could almost see it; Tara, laying breathless on the ground, blood slowly clogging around stab wounds. “I— I don’t want you to die. Please. I love you.”
“I love you too,” she whispered. “And nothing is going to happen to me, okay? I’m going to be with you all day, and then we’ll take down that asshole together.”
“Please, don’t die,” you begged, grabbing her by her shirt. “Please.”
“I won’t,” she said. You couldn’t believe how sure she sounded.
You shook your head, and without stopping to think of the consequences, you cut the distance between your lips. Tara responded automatically, grabbing your neck and deepening the kiss. After a moment of just enjoying her close to you, you pulled away. “Wow.”
“Yeah, wow,” she said. She was still holding you by the neck. “Where did that come from?” She whispered. Her breath hit your lips, and you licked them, looking into her eyes.
“I— I’m not sure,” you said. You rubbed your nose against her, making her laugh softly. “I didn’t want one of us to die without doing this.”
“We’re not going to die,” she said. “Scratch that. I must’ve died and gone to heaven, because this is all I ever wanted.”
“Really?” You asked.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “I think I’ve been in love with you my entire life.”
You chuckled, pulling away to caress her cheek. “If we make it—”
“We will.”
“If we make it,” you said, giving her a hard look. She laughed, moving her hand towards your hair, scratching your scalp softly. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”
She smiled, lips stretching almost painfully. You couldn’t help yourself from kissing her again, teeth crashing into each other as you laughed. You had been wanting to kiss her for ages, and it had taken a new ghostface for you to gather up your courage.
A new ghostface. Wes, dead. And here you were, kissing and laughing with Tara. It felt like a dishonor to his memory.
“What is it?” Tara asked, noticing how your face had dropped.
“I just can’t believe he’s gone,” you whispered, blinking at the new tears that were trying to escape. “He was alive just yesterday, talking and laughing… it’s not fair.”
“It isn’t,” Tara agreed, resting a hand on your thigh. “But we’re going to figure it out, alright? And you’re going to be just fine.”
You chuckled. “You can’t promise that, Tara. Not when there’s a killer on the loose.”
Tara smiled then, and something in the back of your mind screamed at the sight; that wasn’t her normal smile, the one she had just given you after the kiss. It was gone the next second, when she reached over the console to kiss you on the cheek, and you smiled softly at the gesture. God, this whole mess was driving you crazy. 
“You’re safe,” she said. “Don’t worry.”
━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━
You woke up in the middle of the night, hearing a noise somewhere in the house. You sat up in Tara’s bed, reaching for her side of the bed.
Empty.
You had spent the entire day with her, laughing and stealing kisses. She had ordered chinese and had let you put on one of your favorite comedies to make sure your mind stayed away from Wes. She had even made you lasagna, even though she always complained about how dragging it was to make it all for it to end up tasting like feet, and you had fallen asleep shortly after, the taste of her mother’s wine still on your lips as you kissed her goodnight.
“Tara?” You asked, rubbing your eyes. Your head hurt as you got up, going to the bathroom. She wasn’t there either. You walked back to the bedroom as quietly as possible, grabbing your phone. You turned on the flashlight and, after a moment where you took a deep breath and gathered some courage, you walked downstairs.
You walked into the kitchen, thinking maybe Tara had gone there for a glass of water. Instead, you found it empty. You turned on the light and tried calling Tara, but it went straight to voicemail.
Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong.
You grabbed a knife and turned around, looking at the place. It seemed empty, but was it? Had ghostface somehow gotten inside the house? Had Tara gone to check out some noise, just like you were doing now, and ghostface had killed her?
“Tara?” You asked in a whisper, rushing to turn on the lights of the living room.
Nothing. You looked behind the sofa, and the closet beside the front door where Tara kept all her coats. Nothing. You made sure the front door was closed, and then ran towards the dining room. Nothing. Nothing.
Where the hell was Tara?
You decided to check the bedrooms upstairs, and moved towards the kitchen to grab a bigger knife. Before you could, a hand covered your mouth and dragged you back to the living room, turning off the lights as they went. You tried to scream, and even bite off the hand, but they were wearing thick gloves that all it did was make your jaw hurt.
“Shh. I’m not going to hurt you,” you heard that disgusting modulated voice, and tears began to fall.
Ghostface was going to kill you. Ghostface had killed Tara, and she was probably laying in one of the guest rooms upstairs, her blood staining the carpet. 
Once he let you go, you turned around, ready to stab him right in the chest. But he was faster, grabbing your hand and twisting it until you dropped the knife. You gasped, feeling tears as you saw your only lifeline fall to the ground in front of your eyes.
You were dead. All he had to do now was raise his knife and—
He did raise his hand, but it was empty. He grabbed your face, caressing your cheek. The material of the glove was surprisingly soft against your skin.
“Fuck you,” you said, trying to punch him in the face. He grabbed your other hand, and pushed you towards his body. The warmth felt familiar, and the smell… no, it couldn’t be.
You looked in complete shock as ghostface raised his hand and took off his mask.
Your knees almost gave in when you looked into Tara’s eyes.
No. No. No fucking way. This had to be a nightmare. Tara wouldn’t…
She wouldn’t, would she?
“Baby,” Tara whispered, dropping the mask to the ground. She stepped towards you, but you immediately moved away as you shook your head. It couldn’t be.
“You’re pranking me,” you said, voice shaky. “You— it can’t be.”
“Baby, let me explain,” she said. Though the awful mask was on the ground, she was still wearing the black robe. It made her look terrifying against the darkness, almost as if she was a flying head.
“Explain?” You asked, putting even more distance between the two of you. “You’re— you’re ghostface?”
“Yes,” Tara said. She was starting to look desperate, and you didn’t want to know what she would do then.
Would she kill you, just like she had killed Wes and those other three students? Were you her next victim? Was what had happened today all a lie, a way to get you to lower your defenses? If you hadn’t woken up, would she have stabbed you in your sleep?
“God,” you said. The tears were falling too fast now. You could barely breathe.
“Baby, listen to me,” Tara was begging. She wanted to get close to you so she could kill you? You looked at her hands, raised in surrender. Where was she keeping her knife? “Please, just let me explain.”
“You’re going to kill me,” you said, crying.
“No!” She said, in a rush. She frantically shook her head, walking all the way until she had you in her arms. You tried not to shake. “Baby, Y/N— please, look at me. Please.”
Her left hand grabbed your chin, guiding your face until you had no choice but to look at her. “Tara, how could you?” Her gloves felt wet, and you touched your chin, looking to see your fingers bloody. “God. God, Tara. This is blood.”
“It’s not mine,” she said, cursing to herself as she took off the gloves. Stupid, she should’ve taken them off before touching you.
“Whose is it?” You asked, drying your hand on your shirt. “Fucking tell me!” You pushed at her chest, hating how much she was prolonging it. You just wanted her to kill you so you could be over this panic. 
“Amber’s.”
Your breath caught in your throat at the name. So she knew— she had figured out Tara was the killer, and that had gotten her killed. You couldn’t believe what was happening.
“What?”
“When she said she knew who the killer was,” Tara said, once again moving towards you. “I ran to her and told her we’d talk at night,” she was soft as she grabbed your hands. It felt nice to finally feel her skin on yours. “She said yes, because she wanted to be part of it. The fucking hero who will bring the Stab movies back from it’s fall from grace,” you swallowed hard, trying not to picture Tara stabbing Amber. “I put sleeping pills on the wine,” your breath was momentarily stuck in your throat; so that was why she had declined the glass you had offered her. “So you would fall asleep fast. That way I could go talk to get and not implicate you. It was to keep you safe, and out of this.”
“Jesus Christ,” you rubbed your forehead. Now it made sense why your head had hurt so much when you had woken up. It was a wonder you were even awake now, which was probably why she had been more careless moving around the house and making noises.
“ I was just going to talk to her. I swear. I didn’t want to kill her,” she sounded desperate as she grabbed your cheeks, making you look at her. “She kept the back door open, and I got in. I had the ghostface costume on my back because I knew she’d want to see it. And she did. God, her eyes…” she shook her head. “She was delighted when I told her how I killed Wes, and those three other boys.” Those three other boys who had asked you out this past year, you completed the sentence. How could you have been so stupid to not connect everything before? It all pointed towards you, which in turn pointed towards Tara. “But then,” Tara said. “But then she started to talk about my sister, and—” she shook her head. “That doesn’t matter. We were going to arrange an attack on her, to eliminate her as a suspect, and then one on me. But I knew the more she talked, that she was planning on killing you. Her movie could only have two survivors. I knew it, and she knew it. I couldn’t allow it. So I went into the bathroom while she was typing on her computer with a smile on her face and put on the mask and the robe, and then I killed her. She couldn’t kill you.”
“Why?” You asked, trying not to notice Tara’s fingers gently drying your tears. “Because I’m yours to kill?”
“No!” Tara said. “You— no. Please, don’t ever say that,” the desperation in her voice surprised you. “Please. No. Never. I will never let anyone hurt you, not even myself. I will never hurt you.”
“Tara, you’re a murderer,” you said, blinking rapidly. You refused to cry anymore. You were too angry to shed any more tears. “You fucking killed Wes!”
“Because he was going to steal you,” Tara said. Her eyes were wide open; it made her look terrifying, so different from the girl you’ve known for so long. “He was in love with you. I heard him talk with Chad, saying how he wanted to ask you on a date. I couldn’t let him do it.”
“God, Tara…” you closed your eyes, letting your head fall towards the wall. You weren’t even sure when she had cornered you, but it made your heart beat faster when you realized you had nowhere else to go. “You… you’re crazy. Like clinically sick in the head. Mental asylum type of way.”
“You drive me crazy,” she whispered, her lips hovering over yours. You put your hands on her shoulders and pushed her away. “I did all of this for you. So we could be together.”
“Tara—”
“We have to be together,” she said. “Don’t you see? It’s always been you and I. My father left, my sister left, my mother doesn’t even look my way on the rare occasion she’s home… but you have never left me, because you’re my constant. I can’t let anyone take you away from me. I’d go crazy without you.”
“And this is not crazy?” You asked, fisting her robe harshly. You couldn’t help but remember just that morning, when you had grabbed her shirt the same way to push her towards you. The memory tasted bittersweet now, tainted by her recent actions.
“This is me making sure things stay the same,” Tara said. Her nose caressed your neck, and you let her. Your body was completely petrified. “We’ve been so good lately. You even kissed me today. You want to be my girlfriend. You asked me on a date.”
“That was before,” You said, shaking your head.
“This doesn’t change anything,” she said, desperate. “I’m still the same person I was this morning.”
“I thought I knew you,” you said in a whisper. “I thought… I thought we were in this together. I didn’t know you were a fucking killer.”
Tara swallowed, tears in her eyes. “Please,” she said, hands on your hands. “Please, please. Y/N, please. Don’t leave me.”
“Tara…”
“I’ll beg until my throat is raw. I’ll beg on my knees— do you want me to get on my knees and ask you for forgiveness? I will right now. I’ll do whatever you want.”
You rushed to grab her forearms when you saw her beginning to lower herself onto the ground. “Don’t do that,” you said through gritted teeth. “Get up. Jesus.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, straightening her back. “Please. You’re all I have. I did this for you— for us. I don’t know what’s gonna happen to me if you leave.”
“For fuck’s sake…” This was too much. You looked down, and saw her hands were shaking. Her eyes were full of fear, so profound you couldn’t stop yourself from hugging her. She immediately relaxed into your body, head pressed against your neck as she sobbed.
“I did this for us. Don’t leave me,” she whispered over and over, as you ran your hands through her back. 
You were reminded of the night her sister left. You had held her just like this, and she had shaken the same way as she cried. What would happen if you packed your bags and left, just like you had been planning in your mind ever since she had removed that mask? Something horrible, even compared to those four kills.
You didn’t want to know what would happen. It made your skin crawl with fear.
“It’s okay,” you whispered.
She felt small in your arms, opposite to how she usually acted— like the oldest, the strongest, unable to feel any fear or pain as she let you rely on her. She had always tried to be strong for you, with the exception of now; and that time when she was a little kid and had scraped her knee, so hard she had needed two stitches. You had hugged her as she shook in pain, waiting for your mom to pull out the car so she could take her to the hospital.
“Don’t go,” she begged. It was hard to imagine this same girl that was clutching onto you killing people emotionlessly. It was hard to see her as anything but your Tara.
“I won’t,” you whispered, running your hand through her hair. “I won’t leave you.”
“You won’t?” She asked, pulling away to look at you. You sighed, drying her tears.
“I won’t,” you said, hating how your loyalty towards her was stronger than your moral compass. But this was Tara, a girl who loved you, and a girl that would be dangerous if you weren’t there to stop her. “But you have to promise you won’t kill anyone else.”
She hesitated, eyes looking at the ground. You wondered if she was too far gone to live without killing now she had gotten a taste for it.
You weren’t sure if you wanted to find out.
“I promise.”
And deep down, you knew she was lying. But you still allowed her to grab your neck and kiss you. Her lips were just as soft as when you kissed her for the first time.
You weren’t sure if you had made the right choice.
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dfortrafalgar · 2 months
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I'm Losing You
Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.
Law x Fem Reader
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read these warnings before reading this fic. Genuinely, I implore you. I started writing this fic on a whim a few weeks ago, when I was contemplating my own experiences with reproduction-related health conditions such as the one that will be addressed later on in this story (endometriosis). Reproductive education and health is something that I feel very strongly about, and I feel that topics such as pregnancy complications and loss aren't addressed enough in media for fear that they're too taboo or shocking. Which, to be fair, is true, at least for the shocking aspect. Pregnancy loss is difficult, traumatic, and life-changing, for better or for worse, truly dependent on the person and the world around them.
Now you might be wondering... why would you drag one piece into this? well, i don't know. i felt like it, perhaps. Law is a character who resonates very deeply to me, his character is emotionally complex and layered, and imagining him in a scenario like this one became very interesting to me. Combine that with everything i stated above and taddaa, you get this fic.
this story does and will eventually have a happy ending (a very happy ending!) however it will take a bit to get there. this is a multi-chapter fic that i'm moving from my ao3 to my new blog, and the same warnings there apply here.
if this fic doesn't seem like your cup of tea, i encourage you to check out some of my other fics on my blog. i have a few law/readers that are tooth-rottingly fluffy and much more feel good.
with all that out of the way, thank you for reading.
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Chapter 1
[Next]
The air in the room was as stifling as a sauna from the stress and anxiety filling the air.  It was so silent, the tiles surrounding the small area blocking any and all noise from outside.  The door was closed, caging you in.
You were sitting on the toilet lid, your hands rapidly perspiring and your whole body shivering with nerves.  Across from you, your husband had his arms crossed, his head hung low, his heel bouncing off the floor.  The tension was unlike anything you had ever experienced, however this had unfortunately become the norm for the past six months.
On the side of the sink sat a long white stick.  Neither of you wanted to look at it.
“Do you think it’s ready now…?” you asked, inwardly cringing at how pathetic and weak your wobbly voice sounded.
Law picked his head up, his golden eyes creased in profound concern and worry.  “It should be.  Five minutes, right?”
“I think so,” you replied.  With a trembling hand, you grabbed the stick from the counter.  Law watched your every movement with a close eye.  With a deep breath, you flipped over the test and gazed at the result window.
A single red line.
After the last failed attempt, you made a joke that you didn’t have any more tears left in you to cry, but clearly that wasn’t the case as fat, salty tears rapidly welled in your eyes and flowed down your cheeks.  Law immediately knew what the result was the second your lips twitched downward.  His heart sank into his stomach, immediately stepping toward you, grabbing the test from your hand and blindly chucking it into the small garbage can in the corner.  He knelt on the floor in front of you to pull you into his chest.
“Damn it…” you whimpered.  Your body forced you to take a shuddering inhale before sobbing an anguished, “FUCK!!!!”
Law’s heart broke.  He didn’t even know what to say to comfort you anymore.  6 months of failed attempts at conceiving a very wanted baby had caused nothing but pain to both of you.  You had both been scientific about the process.  All birth control and protection was ceased, and the two of you were religiously tracking your cycle to make sure you would try during your ovulation window, but nothing but failure after failure showed up.
You thought you were broken.
Law thought he was broken.
You wept into his shoulder, your body shuddering with each pained sob that crawled from your sore throat.  Law’s hands were frozen around you, firmly gripping your back.  You couldn’t see the tears that were forming in the corners of his stern eyes, biting his lip and forcing every muscle in his face to prevent those tears from slipping downward.  The last thing you needed was to see him cry, but he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to hold it in.
“Law…” you whimpered into his shoulder.
Law stayed silent.
“I’m sorry–”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” he quickly retorted, cutting you off.  He felt you lurch in his arms.  “This isn’t your fault.  It’s not anyone’s fault… it’s…”
Now you stayed silent.
Law took his own shallow inhale.  “I… don’t know.”
For one of the only times in Law’s life, he was rendered completely incapable of speech.  Normally calm and analytical, looking for every possible solution or reason for an issue, he was now left completely helpless to the crashing waves of sheer dejection.  As your quivering body clung to him like a lifeline, his entire brain was scrambling for some sense, any logical thought, for the current predicament, but it was starting to become glaringly obvious to both of you.
It was very likely one of you was infertile.
When you finally picked your head up from his shoulder, Law’s previously broken heart fractured into even more irreparable pieces.
Your eyes were puffy, swollen and bloodshot from your tears.  Your entire face looked bloated from the force of your crying, and you were clearly flushed.  You looked, for lack of a better word, completely miserable.  Law helped you stand from the closed toilet seat, keeping your eyes away from the trash can where the negative pregnancy test lay on top of discarded tissues and makeup wipes, to guide you to your shared bedroom.  Neither of you had to say a word, you knew he was going to put you into your shared bed and let you get some much-deserved rest after the stressful eternity (10 minutes) you had just endured.  It was almost 8:00PM anyway, and regrettably, both of you still had work the following day.
You didn’t fight it when Law eased you down onto the mattress by your shoulders.  You kept your eyes pinned closed, not wanting to let your husband see any more of your beaten state.  You rolled over onto your side and hid in your pillows.  You didn’t hear Law mention that he would join you after cleaning up, and you didn’t notice the overhead light dimming.  You simply begged for sleep to take you quickly and painlessly.
When Law finally returned after washing his face, he gazed dejectedly at your weary form.  Finally asleep, fortunately, but your cheeks were glossy with fresh tears.  The man carefully crawled into bed behind you, carefully pulling your body into his.  He wished more than anything that he could make your pain go away.  He ran through the many years you had been together, and struggled to find a time where your sorrow was as profound as it was this evening.  His mind was constantly at war- his analytical, doctor side beginning to list specific reasons why this could be happening, and his sincere, passionate, loving husband side breaking apart reflecting over the sound of your sobs.
It could have been either of you.  But it also could’ve been both of you.  The thought was enough to finally force the tears in Law’s eyes to break free and travel down his cheeks.  Some of them plotted into your hair.
You awoke to the sound of whispering in your hallway outside the bedroom.  The blinds covering the window above the bed you shared with Law were pulled shut, but the sunlight still beamed through them leaving patterns on the walls and floor.  The side Law slept on was empty and freshly made.  No surprise, he left for work early in the morning after all.  You slowly sat up in bed, your head pounding.  The events of the previous evening came rushing back to you, but you felt nothing but an empty melancholy, a dark fog that hung over your brain and clouded your vision.
The door to your bedroom slowly opened.  You looked up just in time to see a very large, very fluffy cloud with four legs and two beady eyes come sprinting into your room.  Its feet ripped across the carpeted floor as It hopped on your bed with a loud huff, immediately snuggling on top of your duvet and leaning into your body for some much needed cuddles.
You mustered a weary laugh, your hands instinctively moving to the back of the dog’s neck to rub his fluffy cheeks from behind, eliciting happy grunts from the large animal.  He had his tongue out, a tiny pink blep among the sea of rich white fur.
“Bepo,” you sighed.  “You know Law doesn’t like it when you get on the bed.”
“He missed you!” called a voice from the hallway.  Spiky red hair appeared in the doorway.  “So did we, actually.  I hope I didn’t wake you up.”
Shachi had, actually, woken you up, but you didn’t need to tell him that.  “No, not at all.”  You shook your head.  Bepo’s tail was wagging in your face, causing you to sputter out small strands of loose fur from your mouth.  The red-head entered your bedroom, leaving the door open.  The smell of French toast instantly wafted into the space, making your mouth water and your eyes widen.  “Is Penguin cooking?”
“Yee-up,” Shachi replied, popping his lips to enunciate the word.  “Law invited us over, if you couldn’t tell.”  He flashed a smirk.  “You got the day off, by the way.”
Your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion.  “What?”
“Law called in sick for you,” the man confirmed.
You frantically reached for the night stand and grabbed your phone, tapping the screen to illuminate it.  It was almost 10:00AM, and sure enough, your alarm had been turned off.  Three texts from Law sat waiting on your screen, as well as two texts from your coworkers.
Baby~~<3
Sorry, I broke into your phone to turn your alarm off.  You get to sleep in today, I called you out sick.  I didn’t tell them anything, just that you weren’t feeling good.
Baby~~<3
Shachi and Penguin might be there when you wake up.  I did tell them a little about what happened, just so they know to give you space if you need it.
Baby~~<3
Call me if you need anything at all, I love you.
Ika-chan
I heard you called in sick today!!!  I hope you’re alright, let me know if you need anything!
Nami Swan
How r u feeling?  If u caut the flu u can blame Usopp :P
You smiled, your heart beating in your chest.  “You guys are too much sometimes.”
Shachi proudly rested his clenched fist over his sternum as a display of pride.  “Nothing is ever enough for your best friend!”  The sight made you chuckle.  
You were caught off guard by Penguin entering with a much larger platter of food than you ever expected.  He excitedly approached your bedside with a wide grin, marveling at his own work.  A bowl of mixed fruits, a plate of French toast drizzled with maple syrup and dollopped with a swirl of whipped cream, a small portion of sausage on the side, and a single unopened bottle of apple juice.  You graciously accepted the spread, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely befuddled.
“You guys know I’m not actually sick, right?” you asked, glancing at your husband’s best friends with concern.  You shooed Bepo away from getting too close to the sausage.
“We know,” Penguin clarified.  “We can treat you to a nice breakfast even when you’re not sick, though!”
You smiled, forcing down the lump that formed in your throat.  “Thank you guys, I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I know what you’d do,” Shachi stated.  “You’d eat your breakfast and savor every bite!”  He stood up from your bed and clapped his hands twice, beckoning Bepo off of the bed and over to his side.  “We’ll take Bepo for a walk around the neighborhood!  Take some time for yourself!”  The two men left with your dog in tow, leaving you to stare in awe at the spread of food.
Your mind was reeling.  Law’s text informed you that he had given his two friends a brief summary of what had happened, but you didn’t really mind.  If anything, it brought you some comfort to know that you and your husband’s two closest friends understood the predicament you were currently in and were more than willing to go out of their way to support you.  You also couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Law calling you out sick for the day, putting your passcode into your phone to turn off your alarm, and making sure his friends would be there for you when you woke up.  You were beyond grateful for such an incredible support system, but just to be on the safe side…
You grabbed your phone once more, opening your text messages with Law.
Good morning baby, thank you for calling me out.  Im feeling a bit better, Shachi and Penguin made me breakfast.  I hope you didnt give them too much grief ;3; Take care of yourself today, I’ll see you when you get home.  I love you!!! <333
With your breakfast completed, you slowly trudged to the bathroom to take a relaxing shower.  The sight of your negative pregnancy test filled you with nausea, but you pushed past the feeling and turned on the water.
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atlasxspeaks · 7 months
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Another silly headcanon for Spider (inspired by me finding all my baby teeth that my mom keeps in a box for some reason):
Every member of the Sully family has one or more of Spider's baby teeth. It starts all because of a misunderstanding.
Norm had told Spider that his front bottom tooth was set to fall out soon, something Spider didn't understand because Na'vi children don't lose their teeth. Norm skips over explaining that Spider once again is not Na'vi, and instead tells Spider to just bring the tooth back to Hell's Gate if it comes out while he's playing outside. When asked why, Norm and Max explained that he needed to keep his tooth so that the tooth fairy could come and give him a gift in exchange for his tooth.
Now, Spider has no frame of reference for anything that they're talking about. All his 5-year-old brain gets is that somewhere out there, there is a human who steals kids' teeth, and he's terrified.
Later that day, Spider goes careening through the forest and bursts into Mo'at's pod where everyone tends to eat lunch, yelling in broken Navi about a theft coming to take his teeth.
Jake immediately understands what he talking about, but he’s too busy laughing to properly explain. By the time he catches his breath, Mo’at, Neytiri, and the kids have both been thoroughly convinced that there is a theft among humans taking children’s teeth. In a rare moment of compassion towards the human boy, Neytiri assures him that she will protect his teeth. Jake decided not to tell them the truth and just let events play out.
Spider winds up losing his tooth later that day, roughhousing with Lo’ak, who takes great pride in telling everyone he will protect Spider’s tooth from this "tooth theft".
And thus brings the saga of the Sully family all coming into possession of Spider’s baby teeth (to keep safe from the tooth theft, of course).
Lo’ak gets Spider’s first baby tooth but winds up with 10 over the years (much to Kiri and Neteyam’s envy). To be fair, Lo’ak is responsible for most of them falling out anyway. He takes all of them after Spider loses his last one and weaves them into an intricate armband that he wears during festivals and special events to always have a piece of Spider with him.
Kiri has 3 of his baby teeth, the majority of which she keeps in a wooden chest she made for all her most prized possessions. The first one she got was one of Spider’s left upper canines that she wiggled out herself after nagging Spider about it for days. She used it as a charm on her anklet and never took it off.
Neteyam also has 3 baby teeth - all molars. 2 fell out simultaneously while Spider was eating Pali jerky. The first, however, fell out just before their first hunt. Spider had been wiggling it all night, and it fell out while Jake was checking their gear. Spider handed it to Neteyam, declaring that their hunt would be fruitful because that was his lucky tooth. Spider never shares what about the tooth made it lucky, but they both caught their first yerik that day, so Neteyam takes it with him whenever he goes hunting. After the humans return, he encases the tooth in amber into his bow, hoping that its luck will protect him in battle.
Tuk, Jake, Neytiri, and Mo’at each have 1, with Tuk getting the last baby tooth Spider ever lost. It was his left upper front tooth, and like Lo’ak, she was the cause of it falling out because she accidentally head-butted him while he was eating with a cannula. Thankfully, he didn’t choke on it, and now Tuk has it on her songcord, representing Spider as her brother.
Jake gets his tooth gifted to him by Spider after it falls out. It’s his other front tooth that Spider wiggled out himself and decided to give to the man because Lo’ak was annoying that day. Jake denies wholeheartedly that he cried afterward. He, too, adds it to his songcord on Spider’s 13th birthday, declaring that Spider is now a man since all his baby teeth are gone.
Mo’at has the second baby tooth Spider ever lost because she had to pull it out herself. Spider had fallen and chipped the tooth, causing extreme pain. Since Hell’s Gate has no dentist, Mo’at pulled the rest of the tooth out herself while Norm fretted behind her. Spider bounced back quickly, proudly showing everyone the new space in his mouth. Mo’at keeps the two pieces of Spider’s bottom front tooth and fashions them into earrings that she wears on his birthdays.
Spider gifts Neytiri her tooth, a small lower molar he lost while eating caramel that one of the scientists in Hell’s Gate made. He gives it to her for the human holiday called Mother’s Day but does it at the end of the day, right before Norm comes, to avoid rejection. Once he's older, Spider realizes he never saw the tooth again and figures she either threw it away or gave it to one of the kids to add to their collection. In reality, tucked away in a small box in their family pod, sitting next to the only picture Neytiri has of her sister, the last arrowhead her father ever made, and Jake's old dog tags, lies Spider’s baby molar.
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luvrrszn · 9 months
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pov
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MIGUEL O'HARA x FEM READER
summary miguel o'hara is in love with you. so hopelessly in love with you. (spoiler alert: you are, too.)
warnings fluff, pure tooth-rotting fluff, just a bunch of blurbs put together, NOT proofread
a/n feeling peaceful 2day love u all xx (p.s. wrote this listening to "pov" by ariana)
masterlist
mornings with miguel o'hara can only be described using one word: peace.
you'd never think that "peace" would be a word associated with miguel o'hara, but once you've experienced what you have, you wouldn't see it any other way.
miguel is protective of his mornings with you. being such a busy man, mornings with you are sacred.
"can we sleep in a little longer?" you mumble against his chest, almost every morning. his answer is always the same: "of course, my dear."
how could he ever say no to you?
you set your phone down on the kitchen island as you go to grab a glass of water. miguel's gaze leaves his laptop as he glances at your phone screen.
your phone was left unlocked, an instagram post of your high school classmate with a gigantic diamond ring displayed on it. miguel asks you, "mi corazón, does it bother you? we have been together for 8 years, and no ring."
"hmm, not really, miggy. does it bother you?" you reply, setting your glass down as you approach miguel.
"no, but if you did, it would be understandable."
you walk closer to him and he wraps an arm around your waist. you settle down on his lap and stroke his hair, saying, "i don't need a ring to prove that i love you. ring or no ring, we both know that i am yours, forever."
you wake up to the sound of giggling and a thud of something falling to the floor. you drag yourself out of bed and down the stairs. your daughter is giggling as she runs around the living room, being chased by miguel who's holding a...bottle of pink glitter?
a chair at the dining table has toppled over, the culprit behind the "thud" you heard earlier. the dining table has a piece of A3 drawing paper on it, covered in pink glitter glue, light pink sequins and dark pink and purple fairy dust. you've never seen so much pink in your life.
"the glitter monster is coming for you!" you hear miguel call out. you turn around just in time to see miguel pick up your daughter and carry her over his shoulder. she giggles, "papá, put me down!"
you look at the line of photo frames on top of the fireplace, a mere representation of the time that has passed since you first met miguel o'hara
there's a photo of you and miguel in a dark, crowded bar. the night you two met.
there's also photo of you and miguel in front of the eiffel tower. the night of your 5th anniversary.
there's a photo of you and miguel in a chapel in vegas, both of you grinning, his arm slung over your shoulder. the night the two of you were married by an elvis impersonator.
there's also a photo of you in the hospital, miguel grinning next to you, and the most perfect baby girl bundled in your arms. the night your baby girl entered the world.
last but not least, there's a photo of you and miguel slightly hunched forward, with your daughter in between the two of you, holding a huge bouquet and grinning. the day of her very first dance recital.
by the end of the day, your little angel's pink artwork takes its place above the fireplace, joining the array of photo frames.
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stevesbipanic · 4 months
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@steddielovemonth Day 2: Love is protection ❤️😉 @steddieas-shegoes
Mild smut under the cut
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"Mmm, Eddie, fuck please," Steve moaned biting his lip to try and stay quiet, they hadn't exactly told Eddie's uncle yet. He'd been climbing through Eddie back window for weeks now, he almost ripped his jeans last night. It wasn't like they thought Wayne wouldn't accept them, he loved Steve and he knew Eddie was gay. But the fun of sneaking around hadn't quite worn off left, only Robin knew because movie nights were boring if they couldn't cuddle, plus Steve couldn't not tell his soulmate.
"Please what, baby, you need something?" Eddie responded teasingly. Steve would've glared at him if his fingers weren't dipping under Steve's waistband. "Lemme just grab a condom, sweetness." Robin liked to remind them about the news despite not wanting to know exactly where the condom would be going.
Eddie pulled open the bedside drawer, pulling out an empty box. "We finished that one this morning, did you not buy another one?"
Eddie looked at him confused, "But we never run out." Now it was Steve's turn at being confused. "Eddie, it's only a ten pack, of course we run out."
"But there's always condoms in here."
Steve's eyes widened, "There's always refills and you're not buying them?" He says slowly, connecting the dots faster than Eddie. "Eds, either the tooth fairy picked up a new hobby or your uncle has been refilling your fucking drawer," he explained flustered and definitely no longer in the mood.
Down the hall they could hear movement in the kitchen, Wayne clearly awake for dinner before work. They quickly got dressed and decided to face the music.
"Hey Wayne, hi Mr Clarke," Steve said sheepishly as if he'd been here the whole time and hadn't snuck in twenty minutes earlier.
"Steve, I've told you you can call me, Scott, Eds does."
"Right, Scott."
Eddie was looking so red looking at his uncle.
"Wayne?" He strangled out, "Have you been buying me condoms?"
"Protection is important, Eddie, your dear Robin keeps me updated."
"You've been talking about our sex life with Robin!"
Steve accepted the plate of food from Scott, sitting down to eat, might as well see this through now.
"Who did you think was buying them?"
"I thought it was a big box!"
"I'd put them on your bed, did they walk from the drawer?"
Steve had now started giggling, he loved his boyfriend but he could be oblivious when he wanted to be. Oh, he loved his boyfriend.
Eventually, Eddie calmed down enough to sit through dinner, and later, after they'd said good night to his uncles and were back in bed, Steve cuddled into his side.
"I love you, by the way, even if you think a condom fairy exists." Steve felt Eddie's grip tighten.
"Did you really tell me that you love me for the first time and say condom fairy in the same sentence?"
Steve laughed, "Yeah, seems like our kinda style."
"I love you too, Stevie, but I'm buying our condoms from now on."
Despite their family being a bit too involved in their extracurricular activities, they were both glad they had people that loved them enough to care.
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justcallmesakira · 4 months
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Bsd men with a childish s/o part 2!
Sypnosis: Bsd men with a very silly and goofy s/o with ranpo, akutagawa and nikolai! Genre: Lowkey fluff, crack
Warnings: poisoning with peanuts, sliding down a metal Rollercoaster railing, implied doxxing a Mexican kid, blasting, teeth 😇
A/N: Okay so my last post got loads of likes so I decided to do a part 2 because why not? I don't think I will do part 3 but you can request if you want..?
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Ranpo-
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Wow... look two autistic lovers challenging each other who can eat the most sweets without getting cavity!
You one time tried stealing his candies,, so he kept you in those childrens tents filled with colorful balls😧😧😧 yk those silly cages made for children so they think they are meant to have fun?
Nahh fukuzawa gunna call the CPS
If you think he will be all sweet with you.... No shit bro your in for a ride, AND I MEAN A LITTERAL RIDE-
"uhh ranpo I don't think we should use a Rollercoaster as a slide" "shut up you kid! Sliding not a crime xD"
Two grown up adults found sliding down a roller coasters rail
BRO let the news reporter have a break 😭
He's kinda like dazai but a bit more childish with you (awh how cute...)
One time he tried to play with a kid on the sandbox but he refused so you came and gaslighted the kid to eat a peanut butter lollipop 🍭🥜
Turns out the kid had allergy to nuts
Kid: AUGHHH AGUH AGHGh AEEEEUGHH you: :3 Ranpo: god must be happy
FAMILY GUY Reference??? YES
And so two totally romantic lovers go on a journey to poison little kids!
Hohoho if aomeone bullies you he's gonna go "Hello (first name) (middle name) (last name) who lives in (full address) and was born in (birth hospital)" on that Mexican kid who tried to bully you
That's hot😋😳🤭
One time you lost your left glove in the winter so he took your left hand and slid it in his gloved hand
YES THAT'S POSSIBLE I DID THAT TO MY hopeless romantic ass Self!!!!
Akutagawa-
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....
How did you get him to date you bro 😀
He does not even understand what wrong with you so he always has be the one saving your ass during a mission just in cas3
OH it's not for your protection.... It's him protecting the building so you don't blow it up
😁😁😁
You know how he goes ◉ - ◉ sometimes? That's exactly how he questions your silly antics
"I can't wait for the tooth fairy to come for the teeth under my bed!" "◉-◉" higuchi: you are too old for fallen tooth what are you sa-- Y/N WHO'S TOOTH IS THA--"
He only glared at higuchi telling her to not question it with you behind him ":3"
Sometimes you play with his rashoumon by putting make up on it
Idkdontaskmehowyoudidthat-
"sir we bombed up the plac-" "good" 💁‍♀️💄👹---🧑
GUYS THE DEMON IS THE RASOUMON AND DON'T QUESTION IT
If anything akutagawa is questioning why he has to keep you in a children's daycare
BRO give him a break-
When dazai met you and you two had matching energy he was just staring at you two with respect... He felt a bit felt out though
HUG HIM RIGHT NOW👿
Other then that he tries to understand you and protect you from danger because of your goof :)
Nikolai-
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This is gonna get messy.... 😨
Honestly you have matching energy butttttt- BONUS POINTS IF YOU ARE A TERRORIST WHO Goes >:3 WHILE BLOWING UP A BUILDING-
Fyodor is questioning his life choices because you two acCidENtaLly burned his kitchen
"Damn.... It's 7 am..." Fyodor said calmly as he saw his only house burn down
Your gonna become his pretty assistant in his circus or sth🤡
Anyways you know those bumper cars? You two ride those and bump each other with it causing a friction and blasting the whole place
He will let you lay on his thi- I mean lap if you are too tired but don't be surprised to wake up with pigtails and heavy makeup :>
NIKO I love you but if you do that... Things are gonna get way messier😊😊😊
If
If you want anything he Wil just open up his portal and bring
"oioioioi koala (the name you gave him because of kolya) I want to drink shrimp and lollipop soda" *opens up portal and takes out a golden can* "here you go! :3" "Oh tank yew :3"
Totally sane and normal!!
Yes you call him koala instead of kolya but he always goes 😳🤭
I would too bbg wann-
Overall I think it's sort of good to be cheerful I mean at least you get too get away with his pranks (slightly)
Just make sure he doesnt sigma 3 breakdown hair you
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A/N: I know this wasn't good but I am not in the mood to write yk--so sorry it's not funny or anything anyways I am not sure whether I WI will write part 3 or not
Tag: @silverbladexyz
Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated!
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radiocrypt-id · 1 year
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I think there's something poetic about Pinnochio that's crushing some of us more than others. Like, this little kid, this sweet baby was given life and from day one, minute ONE, was given a short list of rules to follow to earn his fathers affection. Because his father wanted a son, but a son cannot be made of wood, he must be a "real boy" to be a son. He's had to fight tooth and nail, splinter and varnish, to be what his father wants and the tiniest mistake? the ittiest bittiest littlest mistake? BOOM! wood.
By the end of his Story, Pinnochio figures it out. He's found the limitations, the hard lines of the laws of his life. If he is good, and kind, and doesn't ever lie, he gets to be loved, he gets to be a son. It's a solid box, small and ill fitting for a child, with no sign of what it will do to him as a grown up but that's not in his Story, so it doesn't matter. Maybe in his world, in Amanti, with his father, if The Times of Shadow never came, he would have been fine staying in that box. Being a good boy, and later man, and never once telling a lie lest he become unlovable wood.
But the Times of Shadow did come. And Pinnochio looked into the eyes of the Wicked Fairy, after hearing the screams of his friends fathers dying in the night, drowned and eaten and bled by rats and birds and all manner of critters of shadows. He saw the very thing he'd always been questioning stare him in the face with a sweet smile and screams at his back.
He saw the rules c h a n g e.
Before anyone else, Pinnochio saw a damned if he did situation and chose to be wood. He Chose to be an Unlovable, Bad, Little Wooden Boy, because he loves his father more than he fears being unloved. He'd rather be a puppet and with his father than be Real and be alone.
He loved his father so much, he made a deal with the Wicked Stepmother because she promised to take care of his father for him. After he lied to keep his father alive, safe from the Wicked Fairy and knowing he's just a little wooden boy, how could he possible keep his father safe, especially when he won't listen to pinnochio? Of course he'd agree to help the stepmother it it meant his father would be safe. Of course he'd take that sacrifice. Of course he'd die.
Pinnochio loves his father. Enough to be wooden forever. To be unloveable, bad, mischievous, foolish, left behind. Because Pinnochios life has always been harder than other children. He's used to it now. But now it has purpose. Now that repetitive hard line he'll never escape has given him the strength to survive. He's smart, fast, powerful in his own right and growing everyday. He's his own patron now. He wasn't built for the world he was forced into, but he's built for this one.
And isn't it terrible? To be in a world not made for you? Or rather, specifically designed to hurt you and only you? so that the actual end of the world isn't that big a deal at all?
"Sometimes, you have to lie... You have to lie to protect the one you love..."
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j0kers-light · 3 months
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Innocent!reader , wearing a summer dress (I know it’s December 😭) , and not being aware of its effect on joker . Please bring back innocent!reader , need more of her 😭🩷🩷
His Lighthouse: Summatime Fine (LedgerJoker x f!reader)
Summatime Fine - Oneshot
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Image Credit
It’s the long awaited return of innocent!reader! Joker's sweet girl is finally back in this long awaited part two!
Its not December anymore anon and I am terribly sorry for filling this ask so late. I come bearing a lil something something as a thank you for your patience! I encourage you to listen to the song that inspired me to write this oneshot! Enjoy! 💖✨
taglist:
@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack @spaghettificationandpretzels @reneisance @alittlesmartcookie @ninacutebee16 @carydorse @jaysmentalspace
Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist! Be alerted with any oneshots and the main story updates! 🖤✨
You are a f__king tease and the worst part? You were completely unaware of the effect you had on Joker.
He thought he purged that blissfully ignorant demeanor of yours, but alas you were still a virgin at heart. A part of him loved it— another wanted to fully corrupt you until nothing innocent remained. Yet you were still his sweet little doll he so desperately wanted to defile.
Your childlike view of the world was so painstakingly cute, it made him want to vomit. Your natural kindness practically begged him to destroy it. Would it be wrong if he spoiled the secrets of your youth? Santa wasn’t real, neither was the Easter bunny and gasp! Okay, he’d let you keep the tooth fairy. That one was too cute to ruin.
He loved exchanging your baby teeth for jewelry and other pretty things. Granted that it fit under your pillow.
Joker found it his mission to protect your naivety from the gruesome world. The extremely sheltered childhood you endured molded you into the person you were today. Joker could live out the rest of his days in your pink little bubble, but he knew that was impossible with his lifestyle.
You were still shy and bashful, uncertain of your own body, but the worst of them all—you were unaware of the control you held over Joker.
If you batted your lashes, he was a goner—forever doomed to follow behind you like a lovesick puppy, wagging his tail. He could come to terms better if you were intentionally trying to seduce him. He could fight back if you were in on this game of cat and mouse but that wasn’t the case.
Your body was still a prize to be had and poor naïve you did not know that the situations you put yourself in were utter torture to Joker.
Getting stuck in the dryer with just your butt sticking out? Stretching on the couch and practically pushing your breasts in his face? Or when you knelt on the floor with your mouth wide open begging for cock?
Okay, maybe that last one was a fap dream, but still!
How did you not know what you were doing to him? You still went about the apartment cooking and cleaning in those skimpy clothes, and he loved how you still bit your lip and looked away whenever he gave you a compliment.
You adored his silly jokes and that smile of yours would always make him a simp. He took your virginity, yet nothing really changed about you.
Your stupid parents protected you from anything remotely sexual and it was now Joker’s job to educate you. And boy did he have his work cut out.
He would try and instigate things, whether smacking your behind as you walked past or palming your breasts mid make out sessions, all to no avail. One night Joker dry humped you right to the edge of bliss only for you to fall asleep, leaving him raging hard and dumbfounded.
He couldn’t believe you fell asleep during foreplay. It was a blow to his ego and he had no other choice but to jerk off and fall sleep, questioning if he could put up with this for much longer.
He had to take a step back and remember your lack of experience. You didn’t know that you were horny and even after a trip to the clinic, you were still clueless.
You were a child compared to his extensive knowledge of sex. If Joker didn’t tell you his intentions outright, then his dirty comments and attempts at flirting would go through one ear and out the other.
Despite all of this, his little Bunny was smart. You craved knowledge on this secret world of sex—your subconscious actions proved that much; and what better teacher than himself?
Your first night was all about you but Joker wanted to change that. He wanted to test your skills giving pleasure. He remembered the promise he made, ‘I’ll let ya have a uhh, taste, another day Bunny.’
He was a man of his word and let you explore.
Joker was amazed to discover that you lacked a gag reflex and loved the taste of his cum. It was only natural that he teased you about it. “My sweet girl don’tcha re-mem-ber? You gave me such an attitude about how you taste. What was it? Uhh tangy and salty?”
You reminisced back to the night that you lost your virginity. Joker kissed you after eating you out (much to your disgust) and now you felt embarrassed for subconsciously craving his cum.
“I wonder.... what do I taste like, sweet girl?” Joker purred.
His words always made you feel funny.
It happened to be a kink of yours Joker explained. An idea, thing, or act that made you aroused. Every night it seemed you added more and more to your growing list.
And Joker’s influence didn’t stop there. He took educating you very seriously and found informative sex-ed material for you to read in your downtime. He wanted you to know about your anatomy and how to take care of it.
Your parents should’ve been the ones teaching you this stuff but alas.. They were absolute morons.
It was embarrassing to learn about your own body another person (even worse from a man), but you were grateful that Joker took the time and cared enough to do it.
You didn’t want to imagine the alternative of being taken advantage of due to your lack of experience. Joker was a bit rough but what else did you expect from him? It could have been a lot worse.
It was a miracle that he took the time to talk you through every step of sex and then exposed you to the wonders of aftercare.
You couldn’t ask for a better partner. It was why you did well to study hard and learn everything that you could. You actually looked forward to ‘pop quiz’ days. For obvious reasons.
Joker made you lie back on his chest in front of your giant floor length mirror. When you were in position with your legs spread wide open, the test would begin. “Mmm, whaT is this?”
You squirmed as his fingers stroked your outer lips in a v shape, making them slick with your juices. “It’s ah! That’s my labia!”
You felt, more than heard Joker’s approving hum and he didn’t waste any time finding the next body part to quiz you on.
Joker forced you to keep your eyes open and pay attention despite the overwhelming pleasure. He would bite your neck if it took you too long to remember. The sharp pain did little to jog your brain nor did his fingertips rubbing fast circles on your bundle of nerves.
“I think you know what this is.” He laughed as you jerked wantonly in his hold.
Try as you might, you couldn’t answer, especially not when Joker plunged two fingers deep into your pussy and started thrusting them. “What is this, hey shushhhh... hush now doll. Focus. What is this spongy... sensitive... ooey gooey spot that’s melt~ting under my touch?”
So what if you failed that night’s pop quiz? You disqualified yourself by cumming but you still felt like a winner.
Slowly but surely Joker was introducing you to the ways of sex with new and exciting lessons. Soon you would be the insatiable vixen he secretly desired.
If only you would cooperate. It seemed like after sex was over, you were back to your shy, timid self—hiding underneath the covers and asking J, “Did I do okay?”
All he could do was chuckle under his breath ‘It's always the shy ones,’ before tackling you with kisses.
His Princess was a handful yet no one else would have the honor of knowing you so intimately. Joker would kill anyone who dared try. Over time he coped with the fact that you would always be his sweet girl, as innocent as spring.
Which is why he dedicated himself to protecting you. Somehow you convinced J to visit a farmer’s market with you in the Cauldron.
It was a beautiful day out and the people milling around the market brought a lively festive atmosphere to the area.
The crowd was tolerable, but Joker was being a grumpy stick in the mud, preferring to be holed up in an underground hideout or better yet, in your apartment, far away from others. The things he did to make you happy. However, it wasn’t all terrible.
The crowd was an insignificant backdrop when his sweet girl dressed up to the nines stole the show. It took you almost an hour to doll yourself up, but he very much appreciated the final product. You were the focal point in all your beauty.
Your colored skin was fitted with your signature hue of bubblegum pink. Today’s summer dress had detailing that followed the curve of your back right down the bodice. He loved the puffy sleeves and the swooped neckline on you.
You had stopped to quite literally smell the roses, while Joker counted the buttons down your back. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen...
“J? Did you hear me?” Your sweet voice danced on the wind right into his ear. There was never a time that Joker wasn’t laser focused on you. As if he’d miss a single word you said.
“Uhhhh, yeah.” He fished out a dub for you, “Here, pretty girl.”
Ugh you loved the numerous pet names he held for you. Of course, he valued you as a person and knew your real name, but sweet girl, princess, and bunny just sparked something in you. It made you feel special.
You smiled wide and turned back around to exchange the twenty dollar bill with the vendor. It didn’t dawn on you that Joker gave you real money—the both of you were too distracted to make it into a big deal.
Little did you know, Joker was analyzing in the bun you styled your hair in. It was so perfect, not a single strand out of place. You even wore a cute pearl bow as a functional hair clip. Everything matched to create a timeless look.
He stole gifted you a pair of pearl earrings and they glistened each time you moved your head. The cutout of your dress made it impossible to wear a bra, but Joker was taller than you and could see straight down your front. Your tits looked good from any angle.
Random people in the crowd admired the living doll walking amongst them and if not for your scary guard dog (ahem Joker) anyone brave enough could’ve walked up and hit on you.
That would never happen on his watch. Only he could have you.
Joker invested so much into you; it would be a shame for some lesser man to enjoy the fruits of his labor. Joker didn’t care how he looked glued to your side; he wasn’t leaving.
You were all dressed up in pink and ballerina heels with your tall, imposing boyfriend cloaked in black and metal. A grunge king with his ethereal princess. You and Joker were opposites in so many ways, yet the relationship just worked.
He loved seeing the innocent wonder shine through your e/c eyes as he explained different kinds of knives and torture methods, and you enjoyed helping him stir cake batter after the horrific lesson. Nothing he did scared you away. J could do no wrong in your sheltered eyes.
Speaking of your innocence, it was tangible in the afternoon air. It must’ve been the way the sun beamed down on you like a spotlight or perhaps it was the dress you were wearing. Either way, Joker couldn’t stop staring.
How could he ignore the way you wore your hair? You carried yourself with a regal splendor, even if you were self-conscious almost all of the time. You were quite the sight to be seen in his opinion.
You thanked the stall owner and lifted your new bouquet of flowers to your nose.
You took in the delicate scent; Joker drank in the sight of you. Times like this he wished he carried that Polaroid camera with him more often. He could take a thousand pictures of you and still fail to capture your beauty properly.
It was the little things you did that made him want to stay with you. If he lost you? No. He didn’t want to consider the possibility. He was already insane; you were the only thing keeping him from turning into a killing machine. You and your infinite beauty, he could barely breathe right while in your presence.
You were caught in a ray of sunlight and Joker’s eyes widened in awe. Those sunlit eyes of yours… they could rival the world’s finest gems.
And somehow you were blissfully ignorant of the destruction that one single look from you could inflict. Hence the state Joker found himself in.
“Is there something wrong, J? Your eyes look really spacey.” You lowered your flowers and devoted your full attention on Joker.
And that seemed to make the situation worse. Undiscovered shades of green swirled within Joker’s eyes. He was most definitely spaced out and you were to blame. He couldn’t take it anymore.
He swore under breath and grabbed your hand. You yelped and tried your best to keep up with Joker’s long strides in your dainty heels. A few people looked on in concern, but none dared to speak up against Joker.
He was a man on a mission.
There weren’t that many options at this dumb farmer’s market, but he’d make do. He had to.
“J-J.. where are you taking us?” You gasped as he shoved the nearby park’s restroom door open and flung you inside.
The lock dial turned to occupied and his mask was ripped off. Then it was just you and Joker in the cramped public bathroom.
It wasn’t what he had in mind and definitely not the best locale, judging by your adorable pout. Both of you knew that you deserved better accommodations than this.
You didn’t have a chance to argue since Joker backed you into the door to cup your face. Your flowers fell from your grasp in order to hold onto Joker’s hair.
His kisses had a way of erasing your thoughts. Your only brain function was breathing and moving your lips to match Joker’s urgent pace.
He devoured you whole and only pulled back to catch his breath. “I need ya. Right. Now.”
He was already lifting your dress up when you replied, “H-Here?” You glanced around the stall in open disgust. Surely, he was joking. His devilish smile said otherwise.
“Are you wet for me, baby doll? Lemme check.” Joker dropped to his knees and grinned, finding a wet spot already ruining your panties.
Your mouth might deny, deny, deny but your body craved J without a doubt.
Joker peeled your panties to the side and lapped at your juices. Your instincts cautioned you to be quiet, (this was a public place after all) but Joker reached up and pulled your hand away from your mouth.
“None of that, doll. I wanna hear ya. Cry out if it uh, feels good. I know it doesss.” He resumed his focus back on your pussy and indulged himself like a starved man.
Joker’s loud slurps and eager swallows filled the hollowed room and forced you to hold onto his hair for balance. You refused to touch anything inside this place for support.
The back of your head banged against the door, “J, it feels weird.. please I can’t..”
He pulled away to lock eyes with you. “Aht ahttt. You know better, Princess. If you’re gonna cum, then... use your uhh, big girl words, ‘n tell me. None of that shy girl s__t.”
You totally forgot about Joker’s rules in the throes of passion. You were educated now, so he expected you to speak accordingly.
You mentally corrected yourself. Your pussy felt weird because Joker was eating you out with every intention of making you climax on his face. Now if only you could articulate that out loud..
He flicked his tongue against your clit, causing you to lose your train of thought. It only took a moment, but you cried out and came over Joker's tongue. He was upset that you didn’t express yourself more, but he still growled in delight before cleaning up his treat.
He stood up and bent down towards you, but you turned your head away, “Eww no kisses!!”
Now that got a laugh from your clown. You still thought your own cum was yucky. He was still chuckling to himself as he undid his belt. The sharp chime it made always got your attention.
You raised an eyebrow when he began grinding his hard on into your thigh. “J-Joker?” Did he not get what he wanted?
“I saidddddd. I need ya, Y/n. It’ll be quick, I p-prom— oh f__k!” Joker moaned mid-sentence, feeling your wet pussy welcoming his dick inside. It felt like coming home after a long day, you were amazing.
You knew how big Joker was, you held his girth in your hands before. He was a big boy and yet he respected the size difference every time the two of you joined. Slow and steady was the game until he was flush with your hips.
He would remain there until you nodded that it was okay to move.
Just because you were no longer a virgin didn’t mean your pussy could accommodate him so quickly. There would always be a stretch to fight through and overcome. But after a while, you gave him the green light to start.
It felt criminal to depart from your warmth, but that delicious friction was sought after by the both of you. The first few thrusts were always the most intense and your toes curled in your heels as Joker pistoled back inside you with a guttural groan. He readjusted his grip on you right before he pulled out again—only to bottom out at a snail’s pace. The heavy drag of him brushing against your walls was just too good to rush.
Now that Joker pinned you to the door, you could cling onto his shoulders and relax.
You trusted him to hold you steady, like he’d ever let you fall. He loved how you buried your face into his shoulder when it became too much. It gave him the perfect opportunity to kiss along your neck and coo in your ear.
“M’sorry, Princess. I just need to.. I just need. Agh, I can’T.. get enough of ya.” Joker groaned into your ear.
His pace suddenly picked up and rattled the door against your back with each powerful thrust. Should anyone walk by the park restroom, it was obvious what was happening inside. That thought made you gush even more on Joker who immediately took notice.
“Look at yoooooooou my pretty. Little. Slut. Taking cock in some uh, public stall. You that needy doll?” His grip tightened on your waist as he sped up even more. You swore you could feel him hitting your brain, he was so deep.
The wet slap of his balls repeatedly hitting your thighs rang out in the empty stall. There was no way you were walking out of here and Joker knew it.
But how dare he blame this on you? You were minding your own business at the market before he dragged you in here! You had to put your foot down. “No! Ah, y-you’re the needy one, J!”
He was too far gone in your pussy to hear your weak cries but you finally got his attention by clenching down on his dick. He shuddered to a standstill before regaining his momentum. There was no way you were becoming self-aware of your charms and using them against him. Joker glanced your way, only to find that you were already staring at him.
He couldn’t take your fluttering walls and your smoldering eyes.
Both were just too much so he buried his face in your neck. “I know, sweet girl! J-Just uh.. f__k, meeee. Why are you soooo tight?” Joker had to catch his breath and get your permission. “I need ya to cum, Princess. Ya got one more?”
Two orgasms seemed to be your limit and it was sweet enough of Joker to ask if you could cum again instead of expecting it from you. He made sure you stayed hydrated to get the most out of your big O’s.
At this point you were cock drunk, so he took your subby uh huh’s as a yes and smiled wide. “Atta girl, go on... don’t be... nghh, shy bunny. Let me have itttt.”
The audible slaps, Joker’s praise in your ear, and the eye rolling thrusts he pounded into your pussy, it was all too much to handle.
Your whole body shook in Joker’s hold as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your nails punctured holes in his jacket, not that he minded, and you crossed your ankles over his back—locking him right where you wanted him to be.
It was a nonverbal signal for him to let go and cum inside.
Joker chanted your name as each rope of cum shot into your cunt. He never came this much; it was making him dizzy, however his grip on your never faltered. The last thing he would ever do was drop his Princess regardless of his physical state. He just sagged his weight onto the door, squishing you further into the hard surface.
The room was quiet save for the collective pants of air you and Joker took. You breathed in his exhale and vice versa until he leaned back to gaze into your eyes.
He wasn’t surprised to find they were heart shaped and hazy. He had no doubt that his were similar. “You feelin’ alright, doll?”
Was he kidding? You felt amazing! At least, the parts that you could feel. There was a numb, tingling buzz spreading throughout your body after such a powerful orgasm. You were in the arms of your lover riding your afterglow; there was no doubt you were satisfied.
You caressed Joker’s scars with a big smile. It slipped your mind that he was the one that instigated this interaction. But almost like clockwork, the sex was over, and you were reverting back to your naïve ways.
“I want strawberries, J.”
Joker almost dropped you after hearing that.
Only his sweet girl would blurtout something so random after sex. He wheezed out a laugh and with great care, carried you over to the sink area.
You made a noise upon contact and Joker rolled his eyes at your inner germaphobe having a conniption. It was too little, too late to be acting out. You did just have sex with him in a public bathroom after all.
“Calm down, Bunny. We’ll uhh, clean you up, later. Lemme fix ya back pretty. Mkay?” He waited until you pouted and eventually nodded before starting.
Joker wetted a wad of paper towels and wiped your pussy and inner thighs as best he could. The soap was abysmal, so he went without. Your panties were soiled with his cum, but it wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last occurrence. Joker secretly liked you walking around with a reminder of what he did to you.
Joker was fixing you back presentable when you batted your lashes at him. “Okay.... I still want strawberries. Can I get some, J?”
He was still confused. How could your mind quickly bounce from sex to fruit? “Huh?”
“J.... listen! I saw some fresh strawberries at the farmer’s market like a few stalls down. Can you buy me a pint? Ooh and replace my flowers? You.... you um stepped on them when you...”
The tips of your ears turned red and Joker knew why. It was far too easy to tease you.
He tipped your chin up, “When I whaT, Bunny?” A quick glance over at the floor revealed the trampled flowers underfoot.
You didn’t need to explain. They were no doubt a victim of his efforts to pound into you without abandon. The flowers were replaceable and judging by your watery eyes, he’d better buy you new ones and fresh strawberries or he wouldn’t hear the end of it. Whatever his sweet girl wants, she gets. That was his motto from the very beginning, and he considered himself a man of his word.
Joker sighed to himself, nodding. “Yeah, yeah. Let's go get my gooo~oood girl a reward then we’ll errr head on home, ‘kay? I might get ya dirty again before I get ya all cleaned up.”
“How does that sound, Princess?” Joker bopped you on the nose. Your bashful nod was your only response. Now that wouldn’t do!
He bent down to kiss your cheek, making sure that the exaggerated mwah got a response out of you. Just his luck, it did. He smiled wide at the peal of laughter you let out. “Okay!”
His sweet girl laughing was the best sound in the world.  
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merakiui · 7 months
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it's trey's birthday!!!!! >:) to celebrate, here are a few trey thoughts and concepts.
(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, gaslighting, mention of non-con, sk!trey, mention of love potion/drugging, brief nsfw, implied somnophilia)
✧ trey using his um to make you think you're free and can go anywhere, when in reality all this time you've been confined to a single room and every "place" you've gone to is simply the result of his unique magic altering your senses. that bakery you visited with him? that didn't really happen. the library? not real. the park? nonexistent. it's just you and trey in this single room and you've yet to figure it out. :)
✧ being trey's friend since childhood and you've always had a crush on him. the two of you have been inseparable, but when he goes off to nrc and you're left in the queendom of roses to attend school there your feelings start to dampen...and very quickly at that. the reason? trey hasn't been around to feed you the love potion he mixed into the pastries. he's been doing it since the two of you were children. it started as an accident when he unintentionally knocked it into the practice batter and you ate it and... he just likes it when you're in love with him. is that so terrible of a thing to want? :< meanwhile, you've always thought your feelings for him were true. ;;;
✧ au in which trey and rook are roommates and you're desperately trying to find a place to stay. isn't it so nice and convenient that your two friends have an extra room open for you to take? :) don't worry about paying rent with money. you can pay with other things.
✧ researcher trey x captive mer darling. maybe you're scared or anxious around humans and he's ultimately the one who befriends you. of course he does so with his own intentions in mind...
✧ trey with a darling who has a fear of men and he helps you get more comfortable around him by showing you he's safe and would never hurt you. he's just so gentle and so trustworthy and so sweet; he's so good at minding your personal space and being so patient and helpful. unfortunately, he just wants you to be more comfortable so it'll be easier to slide into your heart. and maybe he gets impatient and non-cons you instead. :( all of that trust... shattered. but now he has you all to himself and can slowly twist your perception of him in the strangest ways. he gaslights you into thinking that other men would do the same thing, but it'd be much worse and so you can really only ever trust and rely on him. see? doesn't he treat you so softly? you don't have to be scared; he helps you, saves you, protects you. he's good and others are bad.
✧ i never talk about trey's starsending robes, but omg they're so !!!!!!! stargazer trey who is there to collect your wish and you wish for a boyfriend because you thought it'd be a silly and lighthearted wish to make. trey is going to grant that wish if it's the last thing he does. >:D
✧ vampire trey.
✧ trey helping you fix your gag reflex by fucking your mouth often!!!! <3 now when you brush your tongue you won't gag anymore. :)
✧ serial killer trey and his obsession with collecting full sets of teeth from his victims. your teeth are especially fascinating to him, and thus you shall be his next victim.
✧ tooth fairy trey LOL.
✧ dentist trey......... but he's the dentist from novocaine. the sheer gaslighting in this song omg. the "you're bleeding now cuz you never floss" line.......... dentist trey is my beloved. i hope others can see this vision.
✧ OMG WAIT. dentist trey and dr. riddle... the two horsemen of the medical malpractice apocalypse. ;;;;;;;;;;; maybe they're roommates and you see the both of them for annual check-ups, so it's over for you when you wake shackled in their flat. T_T they know your medical history so well; you're in good hands.
✧ trey who takes care of you when you're sick, only to realize he quite likes it when you're so weak and feeble. he intentionally keeps you sick so you'll rely on him and if you think something's amiss he gaslights all of your worries away, minimizing them with a simple, "it must be a rough flu season..." or "don't push yourself so hard; you'll only get sicker." >:( no!!!! trey, you're the one making darling sicker!!!!!! in the same vein that trey is your greatest pathogen, he is also your greatest panacea. for only he gets to decide when you can heal and get better. :)
✧ you often party a lot with cater, so trey's seen you when you're intoxicated far too many times. he tries to be upstanding and honest on the surface, if only to look normal and reliable. but how can he resist when you're right there on his bed, passed out like a corpse?
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cattonicdragon · 1 year
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So how about tooth fairy Jack frost Easter bunny and mr claus(sorry if do do him) with someone that represents karma and make bad things happen to terrible people.
Tooth fairy,Jack frost,Easter bunny/bunnymund and north with a karma reader
I have so many requests so I'm starting off with the requests that have the less characters bc they take me the less amount of time.
Of course you can,for this you will be chosen as a guardian because karma dosnt nescerally have someone who represents it so they just have to believe in karma and shit.
Also norths will be more platonic than romantic
Has been proof read
Ty for the request
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Tooth fairy
Shes kinda scared that you'll be something like pitch black
However once shes been explained to that you give people what they had coming she understands alot better
Despite her first interpretation shes actually very sweet
She sees you give a bully karma and she just smiles sweetly at you.
You and her come across each other every so often,usually it's because someone had their tooth taken out unwillingly(like someone punching someone or something)
She likes hanging out when shes not collecting teeth or just having some down time
You also explain to her that when you give someone karma they had it coming and deserved it
You like to hang out with her at the tooth palace(or whatever its called)
You have actually given abit of karma to pitch before
There have been times where you've had to put bunnymund and Jack in their place,she finds it funny whenever this happens
Her mini tooths love you to bits
Even when your not at the palace you'll always have a small group of them following you about
They like to make sure your okay and pick up teeth along the way
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Jack frost
Honestly hes kinda excited
A guardian of karma sounds excitciting
He probally wouldnt be surprised if he was one of the first to receive karma though
He asks you constantly why you give him karma,much like a kid who broke a vase then pretended they didnt do anything
Hes very clingy
Tries to get other people out of trouble by bribeing you
If hes ever done something that you need to give him karma for he'll try get out of it by sweet talking
If there one person he'll never stop you giving karma to its pitch
Infact he constantly whines to you about giving pitch more,even going as far as making things up
He likes putting his hand on your shoulder
Will start snow fights with you at random
He will definatly see you floating around during an unexpected storm
Your almost constantly busy so he dosnt get to much time with you
Because of this he will definatly start more frost days so you can spend a day off with him and enjoy the snow
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Bunnymund/Easter bunny
Hes mixed between two mindsets
Having another responsible guardian
Another Jack situation
He would definitely be surprised if he got any karma,its be a "I dont think I deserve this " even though he knows what hes done
Hes definitely got it easy after seeing the type of karma you gave to Jack though
Will ask if you can give karma to Jack,because he was playing with some of the elves....
He likes to hang out with you when your not doing anything in Easter island
He likes to give you personalized eggs as presents
Hes very protective of you especially when coming on the topic of pitch
Speaking of,bunny would definatly ask how much karma hes due,isnt surprised with the amount
You sometimes help him place the eggs around at Easter,its a fun activity for the day
Your the only one he'll ever allow to brush his fur,let alone touch it
Glares at Jack if he gets to close
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North(platonic)
He trust the man in the moon,and so far manny hasnt been wrong in choosing his guardians
Hes also heard about you before so hes confident in manys choosing
Hes grateful that you seperate Jack and bunny alot,they can be quite tiring sometimes
Since you dont really have a realm or anything north let's you hang about in the workshop
The yetis and elvs love you
The elves will often climb on you or show you some of the toys
You help the yetis paint and make the toys every so often
He gives you one of the snow globes so if you cant make it back yourself you can just throw the globe
He acts very much like a father figure to you
Asking how your day was and what some of the people did etc
He was the one to reasure the others that you ment no Ill intention
You fit very well into the guardians
If north thinks you need a break he gives you a toy with a note with it
Let's you pet the reindeer
He allows you to watch the globe if your ever bored
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cellythefloshie · 7 months
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;; meant for loving Dedicating this one to @hockeyboysimagines
Summary: Desperate to relax on the final long weekend before he has to return to St Louis, Vince and his best friend, Miles head out to the cabin for the weekend. Waiting in their tranquility, is Miles' baby sister, Samantha who keeps Vince on the verge of chaos as he has desperations of her own: to love her virginity before she goes off to university. Kinks & TW: male pov, original character, age-gap (5 years), situation ship, brother's best friend, virginity trope, teasing/banter, breast play (mild), missionary, protected sex, (i probably missed something here so please be sure to yell at me if I did) ABOUT THE OC: Face Claim: Sydney Sweeny Name: Samantha aka “Sam” aka “Sammy” aka "Princess". Is the little sister of Vince's friend Miles. Sam is 18 and is set to go off to college come fall while Vince is set to report to training camp. Word Count: 14k+
Listen to their playlist while you read.
Taglist: @starshine-hockey-girl @mp0625 @misunderstoodwerewolf @callsign-denmark @puckmaidens @xciciix @cixrosie
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There were two things people knew Vince Dunn for and they were hockey and his love to party in the off-season. What they didn’t know, however, was that Vince loved to escape the chaos. He always had, ever since he was a kid, growing up back in Lindsay. There was a certain peace in it all. From the way the tall, green coniferous trees towered high into the gray and stormy skies, to the way the rain hit the windshield with its soft hollow drum, it all drew him away from the city. The cabin was one of his favorite places to escape before the hockey season, especially with the right company. 
Vince could have invited anyone to go with him, a teammate or the girl he was casually fucking ‌and they would have come. But he only invited one person, his best friend, Miles. The pair had grown up playing hockey together - sharing toothless grins back when you gifted them to the tooth fairy instead of going to the dentist and hoping they could splint it back into place. And while their careers had taken them down separate paths, they had always made the summer theirs. Together, at the cabin their families used to vacation at when they were kids, Vince knew he could relax and rejuvenate - and maybe pick up a hot chick at the beach - before the season began. 
But there would be no trips to the beach today. Not with how the rain was pouring down, leaving the cold wet rubber of his tires to slide over the winding Canadian highways that would narrow into roads of gravel and dirt. The slippery conditions left Vince gripping his steering wheel tight, but he wasn’t tense. He welcomed the calm that came with the rain, even if it wasn’t too kind to the car. 
He could always buy another one. 
The drive to the cabin was long, and he spent the entire time in silence. Vince listened to the rain as it fell, growing harder, then softer and harder again. Only for it to be drowned out by the rocks as his tire kicked them up and left them to scrape the paint on his car as he rolled to a stop in the driveway. The windshield wipers made their awful screech against the wet glass as he undid his seatbelt and leaned across his center console to look at the car parked beside him. The water against the glass distorted its body, but he could tell it was some kind of sedan in a color he didn’t like. And he knew it didn’t belong to Miles. He didn’t know whose it was, but he was going to find out real quick. 
Reaching into the backseat, he fisted the handles of his duffle bag. He lifted it with ease - he only packed enough for the weekend - and lifted it up over his head to keep his hair from the rain. But it didn’t stop the icy rain from soaking into his t-shirt and sending chills down the length of his spine. It left him dancing through the front door with zero consideration for knocking. This was like a second home to him. He didn’t need anyone’s permission, and he was curious. 
Miles didn’t mention that anyone else was coming when they had made the plans. And the last time Vince checked, Miles wasn’t seeing anyone. 
Tossing his duffel bag on the floor, he looked over the living room. No sign of life. 
“Mom?” He called out, knowing he wouldn’t hear his own mother calling back to him. Miles’ mother had been just as much a mother to him as his own, so it all slipped off his tongue with ease. 
“Dad?” He called out again as he kicked off one wet sneaker and then the other - still nothing. 
There was nothing in the kitchen either, as he walked on through. Vince even opened the fridge. Nothing. Whoever was there didn’t plan to stay long. 
His every footstep was quiet as he moved through the main floor and up to the spiral staircase that led up to the second story. There, he looked up and down the hall and didn’t notice a thing out of place. That was until he took a single step down and his bright eyes caught the familiar glint of the tarnished metal door handle in the sunlight. Peering up over the top step, he noticed every single door on the second floor was open, except for one. 
Samantha’s door. 
Little Sammy Fraser. Though she probably wasn’t so little anymore. He hadn’t seen her since St. Louis drafted him, and that was five years in the past now. She had been only thirteen then. And through Miles, she was the baby sister Vince had never wanted but would torment all the same. And after so long, it was due time he caused a little trouble again. 
Vince’s lips pulled back in a too-perfect troublemaker’s grin as he cracked his knuckles and took the quick steps onto the second-floor landing. It only took a single stride from the top of the stairs to reach for her door, his large hand gripping the cold handle and pushing it open without a single thought in his brain about why he shouldn’t. And then he saw the very reason he should have knocked. 
Samantha sat on the bed, once propped up against the pillows, she sat completely upright now. Her expression, mortified. Vince had caught her in nothing but a tight pair of denim shorts and a bright pink lace bra. The color alone would have been enough to make him stare. Her heavy cleavage - that he didn’t quite remember her having before - was the fixation of his stare. Even as she tried to cover herself with her arms, Vince’s gaze didn’t break. That was until he realized she wasn’t alone in the room. 
Beside the bed, half dressed though, Vince was sure that wasn’t always the case, was some lanky teenager. The guy couldn’t have been older than nineteen, his hair a mess, and his shirt lost somewhere in the room. It only took a second for Vince to conclude what was happening there, especially when he watched the panic on the kid’s face melt into relief when he realized that they had not been interrupted by her parents or Miles. 
“Who’s this?” the young man, if Vince would even call him that, questioned as he looked up from where he fastened his belt around his middle. 
It was a valid question. Vince wasn’t her brother, and he sure as hell wasn’t her parents catching them alone in her room. If it had been, the kid would have been as good as dead. Though, with Vince,  he still might be. 
“I could be asking you the same thing, dipshit,” Vince shouted back as he stepped into the room with no hesitation or regard for the fact that Samantha still sat nearly petrified on her bed. He didn’t dare look at her, not wanting to remind himself just what state of undress she was in. That was until he heard her broken words pierce the air. It drew his gaze up to her as he stepped towards the bed and fisted the young man’s t-shirt in his hand. Then, he threw it at him. 
“Vince don’t-” Samantha had said. 
Vince was quick to answer. “I’ll deal with you in a minute.”
But his firm words felt soft against his tongue. It felt swollen in his mouth at the sight of her sitting there on the bed, her blonde hair a mess that framed her features and hung over her bare shoulders. Vince held his breath, his eyes burning in their socket as he desperately fought to keep his eyes fixated on her face. On how her wide eyes were glassy with the threat of crying, and how her full bottom lips seemed to quiver. But he was but a man. A man with eyes that could clearly see all that tempted him. 
Samantha knelt on the bed, her shirt still lost. She was still bare from the waist up, except for the bright pink bra that he could only see glimpses of from behind her arms as she crossed them over her chest. It was her attempt at modesty, but it only emphasized her already eye-catching cleavage. The mere weight of her breast alone left the fabric looking flimsy as Vince’s bright eyes flickered over each swell. 
Vince had to choke out his next words. “Put a goddamn shirt on.”
In the time that Vince was staring, Sam’s guest had pulled on his shirt, but he had yet to make any attempt to leave. Vince’s skin went hot, his jaw going slack as his head leaned back on his shoulders. His shoulder rose and fell in a heavy sigh, and then as Sam groaned out his name in protest, Vince lurched at him. His hand fisted around the guy's shirt collar, his knuckles white as he tugged on the fabric and‌ pulled the lanky trespasser towards the bedroom door. 
Leaving Sam and her harsh words behind him, Vince moved back down the path he had come. Down the winding staircase, and through the kitchen before he came to the front door. The young man stumbled behind him. He tripped on the stairs and then his own feet, but Vince didn’t slow down. Vince would have dragged him all the way to the front door if he had to, and he only stopped when he came to the door. It was a brief pause, just long enough time to step into his sneakers before his free hand reached for the door handle and he stepped outside. 
The rain filled the gravel driveway with murky puddles that soaked into white socks as Vince shoved the uninvited guest out towards his car. He hadn’t given him the time to put on his own shoes, and for a moment Vince considered making him leave without shoes. It would have been a cruel thing, but only a small punishment for trying and failing to get into Samantha’s pants. But then, he would have to make up an explanation for the random, too-small pair of shoes to Miles. And he wasn’t going to rat on Sam. The embarrassment of him catching her would be punishment enough for her. 
Reaching back inside, Vince hooked his fingers around the shoes and tossed them out the door and into the driveway. It was a shame really, he had good taste, but it was satisfying all the same as he shouted, “If I see you around her again, I’ll kick your ass, kid.”
He scrambled for his shoes, but the rain had already soaked through his socks, and for a moment Vince met his eyes. They stood in the rain. Vince’s confident stare met the teenager’s terrified as they were both soaked by the downpour and then the man ran. He took off through a puddle with complete disregard for how wet he became and moved straight for the sedan, which Vince only saw now was some kind of Subaru. As he expected, the kid took off down the driveway like some kind of idiot and disappeared down the road before Samantha could reach the doorway behind him. 
“What the fuck? Vince!” was how she greeted him. 
Turning in place, Vince smiled, even if he knew he shouldn’t have. If she hadn’t been upset already, his smile was sure to do it as Vince turned in place to face her. 
Sam stood in the doorway, fully dressed now, which brought on a sigh of relief - even as she stepped out into the rain with him and placed both hands on his chest. She shoved him firmly, her soft features twisted into a scowl as the cold rain hit her. But she didn’t seem to care. She stood there, away from the cover of the awning, and let the rain soak her. Her straight blond hair began to kink and curl as it dampened, and her white linen blouse became damn near see-through as the rain sent it to cling to her curves. 
Again, Vince struggled not to stare. 
“I’m doing you a favour.”
“A favour? You just stranded me here!”
One of her arms reached out wide, gesturing to the now empty spot in the driveway, but Vince’s eyes fixated between her lips and her collarbone and glanced so subtly down to her breasts. 
“He was your ride, huh?”
“Ah yeah!” Her attitude only left him grinning further, and any guilt he might have gotten hearing he had gotten her stranded at the cabin with him and Miles for the weekend was gone. 
Vince took a step forward, his body nearly colliding with hers as he towered over her. He looked down, smirking as his dark, wet curls hung down into his eyes. “I’m your ride now.”
He watched as her hardened expression wavered. Sam was trying too hard to be tough. It was almost laughable. “You can’t just walk in here and-”
“And what?” He interjected, challenging Sam. It sent her face flushed with colour, but the rosiness of her cheeks paled with his next words. “You’re lucky it wasn’t your brother that found you.”
“Fuck,” her bright blue eyes shot open wide, “he’s on his way?”
“Should be here soon,” Vince spoke, his words kept their cockiness as one hand reached up to push back his wet curls, “he would have kicked that guy's ass, and you know it, Sammy.”
She could only nod as they stood there, so wet that the rain no longer phased them. Sam was stubborn and always had been. She was not ready to concede to him. And Vince? He liked to stir up trouble, even with his best friend’s sister.
“What were you thinking coming here with a guy like that?”
“Guy like that?” Sam scoffed in return, offended. 
The pout that took her features brought Vince to laughter. She couldn’t be serious, right? It was clear just by the car he drove and the shoes he wore, what kind of guy he was. Someone who was superficial, materialistic even, and put the thrill of his ride before the safety of his passenger. Vince didn’t like it, and Sam, well, she didn’t like what Vince was implying. That was clear in how her arms came up to cross over her chest. He knew it was something she did to show him just how unimpressed she was with him, but all Vince could focus on was her breasts. He could see them through her shirt. From the bright pink lace to each swell and the cleavage in between. 
“Believe me, I know the type,” Vince told her, his voice firm as he looked down at her. 
Her cheeks had flushed a brilliant shade of pink as embarrassment consumed her, and silence hung between them. Vince didn’t need her to say it to know that he was right, and she didn’t want to tell him. His smile only grew as they stood there, getting drenched by the rain. 
“That’s why you had him drive you all the way out here, didn’t you?” Vince had a bit of a laugh in his words. “So the guy could get in your pants without your parents getting in the way. I’d say I’m sorry, princess, but as I said, I did you a favour. The guy couldn’t find the clit if you drew him a map.”
Those should have been the words that ended the conversation. That brought Samantha to the silence of her shame and embarrassment and left Vince with a cocky smile as he took his stride towards the front door. Towards dryness and warmth. 
But Samantha was quick to stop him in his tracks with a soft scoff. “As if you could do any better.”
It’s a weak, unexpected jab that left Vince laughing in the door frame. “Damn right, I could.” 
Vince would never admit it, not to Sam and not to anyone, but he had taken more women to bed than he would ever want his mother to find out about. He couldn’t define what a serious relationship was because any attempt at a relationship he had didn’t last more than a series of late-night fucks. But that left him well-practiced and confident in his abilities in the bedroom. 
He had no doubt in his mind that he could leave Samantha satisfied, but the thought alone should have been enough to leave him choking. He had never thought about her like that before - well, before now. 
There would be no ridding his mind of the vision of her back in her bed with her body so freely accessible to his gaze. And now, as they took in the rain so completely soaked that her clothes clung to every curve of her body. 
It should have left him feeling dirty. Samantha was Miles’ baby sister. His best friend’s baby sister. But she wanted so desperately to be fucked. Vince could hear it in her strained words as she challenged him, and in her stare as she held his, her wide blue eyes glassy and hopeless. She was practically asking her to fuck him with so few words, and he was so close to caving. 
Vince cussed under his breath as he reached out to her, a single hand finding her back and pressing against it firmly. “Get in the house,” he told her and let the gentle guidance of his touch usher her back inside the cabin and out of the rain. 
Together they stood in the narrow entryway, so close he could feel her warmth cut through the cold air as he reached into his back pocket for his phone. While he dialled, he held her gaze, silently telling her that their conversation wasn’t over. Then he brought his phone up to his ear, and her face fell. “Hey buddy, I just arrived. How far out are you?”
He was talking to her brother.
Sam inched closer to him, her expression soft as she tried to make out what her brother was saying, but Vince only let her hear what he wanted her to hear. 
“You haven’t left yet?” His brow raised up as he looked at Samantha, her panic only growing as he spoke. “Nah, it’s all good. You’ll never guess who’s here…” 
Vince has to look away as he trails off. It’s the only way to keep himself from smiling. His eyes fixated on the window, watching as the raindrops fell over the cold glass as he answered, “Yeah, your sister.”
The mere mention of her left Sam lurching for his arm. Both of her hands found one of his forearms, clutching to him with her desperation and drawing his gaze from the rain and back to her face. She didn’t have to say a single word. Her eyes did all the pleading for her. Still wide, still glassy, but begging. Begging him not to tell Miles what he had caught her doing up in her room. And he wouldn’t, Vince liked the leverage. 
“One of her friends dropped her off,” he paused, listening to Miles as he listed off some of her friends' names as if it mattered who left her there, “yeah, that’s the one. She’ll keep me out of trouble until you get here.”
Or they would get into some trouble of their own. That fate still was yet to be determined. 
His thumb stroked over the screen of his phone, ending the call and sending it to darkness before he placed it face down on a nearby console table. Vince thought the simple action would get him off the hook, that Sam would back off and let her guard down, relieved that he didn’t let her little secret slip, but she remained, her hands on his forearm as they stood in the entryway. 
“He’s going to be a few hours,” Vince told her. 
And her brow raised up with her sweet and simple, “So?”
“So,” he hesitated for a moment, his tongue dragging over his lower lip. His body rocked with a careful sigh, unsure if he should entertain the dangerous temptations in his mind, but he did it anyway. “So, you want to lose your virginity as desperately as I think you do?”
Her hands fell from him, her jaw slacked, “I’m not-”
“Don’t fucking lie to me,” Vince interrupted her firmly, his cold eyes hardening, “Couldn’t get it done on prom night, so you sneak out here the summer before college just to get it out of the way? I got that little fantasy, right?”
Samantha’s face faded free of any expression, shock consuming her. And Vince can only smile. Fuck, he loved being right.
But Sam didn’t answer him, so he pressured her further. “So you don’t go in all prudish and innocent?”
“Vince,” she spoke his name so slowly, so meekly, it gave him goosebumps. 
“Did you even bring condoms?”
She paled. 
And he laughed. 
Of course, she hadn’t come prepared. 
With a careful tug, Vince was out of her grasp and moving towards his bag that he had discarded on the floor. He had only packed enough for the long weekend, but what he searched for, he kept buried at the bottom. It was half empty, crushed by the weight of his belongings, a box of condoms. Vince always carried some with him, let it be in his car, in his bag or in his pocket. He was always prepared. Unlike Sam, who watched him from her place in the entryway as she chewed at her bottom lip. 
At the sight of them, her eyes lit up like he had some sort of prize in his hands. Any worry she had seemed to fade with her offering, a thank you on the tip of her tongue as she reached out for the box, only for Vince to tug it just out of her reach with a smile of his own.
“I’ll give them to you, on one condition,” he told her, only for her brow to raise in a silent question. He answered, “I’m the one who fucks you this weekend. Not that idiot kid, not some lifeguard, me.”
Vince didn’t know what to expect when he had made the proposition, but he hadn’t been expecting for her to take a step towards him, a cocky little smile on her own lips. He was struggling to accept that she may not be the timid teenager he remembered. Samantha was very much all grown up now, and she knew exactly what he wanted from her now. 
“And what makes you think I’d want it to be you?” Sam’s question was slow as her large blue eyes looked up at him through thick lashes. 
And Vince laughed. 
It was a low rumbling as he smirked and cocked his head to the side slowly. “You wanted it to be him?” His arm raised lazily, gesturing to the door that he had forced her little friend through.
They both fell into silence, their smiles small and their stares unbroken until she backed off and moved for the spiral staircase to begin her ascent. 
“I’ll take that as a no?” His words are a question, not a statement that had her freezing halfway up the staircase to look back at him as he remained in the entryway. 
Her smile remained small, a cocky troublemaker’s grin that told Vince that he just might have gotten himself in over his head with her and her words only confirmed that for him. “It’s an; I’m thinking about it.”
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It rained all day, and into the night, trapping Vince inside the cabin, awaiting an answer to the proposition that hung too heavily in the air. The longer he had to wait, the more conflicted he felt - the more stupid he felt. He should have never put Sam in this position. He should have never, so bluntly, asked to fuck her. Yet, she was considering it. Considering him. She was interested, maybe only a little or greatly, and it was a weight that hung over him as he lounged in the living room and waited for the rain to pass. For an answer. For Miles to arrive. 
Miles arrived before the rain could stop, and before he could receive an answer from Sam. She had remained up in her room, hidden away until her brother arrived. Vince almost wished she had stayed there. Seeing her in her little shorts that were made more for sleeping than covering anything up and her sweatshirt left him near choking on the fact that their window to do anything had closed. 
Vince wasn’t all that mad about that fact. It would save him the headache of having to deal with the consequences later. But that didn’t mean the idea of it all didn’t linger. Samantha’s exposed body was all he could think about when she was in the room, even if she had covered herself up. The worst part was what she did with the knowledge of him wanting to fuck her. When she could have told her brother about the pass he had made on her, she withheld it from him. Much like Vince, it gave her leverage. 
If he told Miles about the guy he had caught her with, she would tell him that Vince was all too willing to take on the responsibility of taking her virginity himself. So they both remained tight-lipped and casual, but Sam teased him. 
Every playful glance she gave him, every moment her hands had been so casually placed on him, stewed in the back of his mind and his needs were desperately close to boiling over. The thoughts left him tossing and turning in bed at night. The rain was gone, and the hollow sound of the drops hitting the window couldn’t drive each forbidden thought from him. They couldn’t drown away the thought of what it might feel like to touch the smooth skin of her waist, or what she might sound like when he made her cum. They were thoughts that ran rampant, leaving his body shimmering with sweat and his cock raging so hard it ached. 
Vince needed a distraction, and he found it out on the back porch where the silver moonlight glistened off the lake water in the distance and the cold autumn air that threatened the last few days of summer left him shivering. Any other night, he would have retreated inside, but he needed the chill. It raised goosebumps over the flesh of his arms and his chest as he stood, leaning against the porch railing, in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. And while it was cold and uncomfortable, it calmed him. 
The crest of the water against the shore freed his mind, and the ache slowly faded. It all lulled Vince into thinking that he just might get to go back up to his room. That he might just be able to get some sleep. 
That was until he heard the open and shut of the flimsy screen door behind him. A heavy sigh shook his shoulders, and for a moment he thought he might just see his breath in the air as he let it go. Then he let himself look back, hoping to find Miles, but the sight of Samantha was what greeted him. He almost cursed and knew he should have gone back inside at that moment and left her alone. But his eyes fixated on the hem of her oversized sweater and how it crept up the skin of her thigh with each stride. It left him convinced she was wearing nothing else and forced him to look back out over the lawn and down to the lake water that he suddenly felt like he was drowning in. 
“Sneaking out?” Vince asked, his brow raised up even though he wasn’t looking up at Sam for her to see it. 
“I just wanted to get some air,” Sam answered him simply, and while he didn’t look at her as she spoke, he felt her warmth as she leaned up against the railing beside him, “can’t sleep.”
“Yeah, me either,” Vince sighed and reached a hand up to knot in his curls. 
“Got a lot on your mind?” Her sweet question left a smile on Vince’s lips. 
She didn’t even know the half of it, and he knew better than to indulge her. It would only get them both into trouble. 
“Something like that,” Vince sighed, his head turning to give her a quick glance. 
He regretted it in an instant. Samantha was petite, standing there at his side. He towered over her by seven inches still - maybe more. And while her hooded sweatshirt consumed much of her, there was no stopping his eyes from dragging down the angles of her legs and back up again The simple movement of resting her chin on her arms raised the sweater up inches on her body, the hem resting on the curve of her ass and confirmed that she was wearing nothing else but a pretty pair of panties. 
Vince cleared his throat. 
“You really should put some clothes on if you’re going to be prancing around here.”
“Prancing?” Sam asked him, her words sweet as she cocked her head to the side. She seemed so innocent, so naïve, but she knew exactly what she was doing. 
Toying with Vince. 
Tempting him. 
“I’ve seen that little hop in your step since our little conversation earlier-”
“Oh, have you?” Sam cut in, “Maybe I’ve always had that little hop in my step. You’ve just never cared enough to notice.”
“Of course, I care,” Vince’s eyes rolled as he stepped in closer to her, sighing under the feeling of her warmth as he was so close to touching her body as he had wanted to all night, “that’s why I never let myself notice.”
“So what changed?” Sam asked him slowly, leaning in and looking up. 
She looked so pretty there in the moonlight. The pale silver light illuminated all of her features, and for a moment Vince found himself distracted, staring. Samantha’s skin had been kissed by summer, giving her this warmth that Vince wanted to lean into. Her eyes were a brilliant shade of blue, so bright beneath stray blond locks that the breeze tossed into her face. And her lips, so pink, pouted and kissable, he was one mere temptation away from taking her face in both hands and drawing her in for a self-indulgent kiss that would answer so many of the questions that plagued her. 
But his silence didn’t lure her in. It left her fumbling with the sleeves of her sweater as she sought any semblance of clarification. “I mean, I know why you wouldn’t have before, but I’m still my brother’s baby sister…”
That would never change. 
Samantha would always be Miles’ baby sister. 5 years younger than both of them. The kid they were stuck babysitting for years - but she wasn’t a kid anymore. And he couldn’t offer her a more complicated answer, even though he wished he could. This wasn’t some love story of a lifetime in the making. This wasn’t some kind of connection he had felt for years, just waiting for the right moment to act on it. 
No, this was primal. Selfish. 
When Vince had found her in her bedroom, so vulnerable and leaving so little to the imagination, she showed him almost all of what she could offer him. That enough was enough to catch his attention, to plant that nagging thought of wanting to take her to bed. Then he learned she was still untouched. A virgin. And it only made her more desirable. 
All he could think about was her tits, and now her ass as it peeked out from what little coverage her cotton panties and her sweatshirt concealed from him. It leaves his mouth dry, his tongue licking over his lips to moisten them. 
Then, he doesn’t answer his question and instead asks one of his own. 
“Aren’t you cold?”
Samantha narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re dodging my question.”
He nodded. She wasn’t wrong. But his mind was clouded, focused on her body, not her words, and he didn’t think he could string together an answer she deserved, never mind an answer she would want to hear. 
“I respect your brother, but-”
“But?” Sam interjected, and she inched so close to him he had to shut his eyes to keep himself from temptation. 
A low groan vibrated through him, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose, knowing all too well he might regret what he was about to say. “Your first time should be something special.” 
Her scoff was just short of a laugh and left Dunn’s stomach heavy. He was right. He regretted saying that. 
“Your ego is, wow-” He could hear the smile in her voice as he let his eyes open to take in the darkness. Vince watched her as she stepped away from him and the railing and spun around as if her laughter was sweet music. When her feet stilled, Samantha leaned up against the screen door. It was then she spoke again, a smile in her words, “What makes you so special, Vince?”
“I know what I’m doing-”
She barely let him answer before she laughed again. Mocking him. 
“Do you? On whose word, your own?”
Vince’s jaw set as he turned to face her fully, his eyes dragging over her features that were alight with amusement. She was playing a little game with him, and he was letting her. 
“You want testimonials?”
“I don’t need to hear shit from the bunnies you fuck.”
There was a bit of harshness in her words, and Vince couldn’t tell if it was judgment or jealousy because she wasn’t wrong. Vince couldn’t even count the women he fucked since being drafted in 2015. Hell, even before that, he had developed a reputation for sleeping around. From the OHL to the AHL and the 3 seasons in the NHL that included a Stanley Cup Win - Vince had many options when it came to which women he took to bed. He had one in every city he played in and knew that the moment he sent that all too typical “you up?” text, they would be catching a cab to his hotel room. Because he was just that good in bed. 
“Sounds like you’re jealous.” His words were a baseless accusation, but they challenged her in a way that left her confidence wavering for a moment before she found her words again. 
“Jealous? No,” she hummed, her chin tilted up so she could meet his eyes. Samantha didn’t shy away from him, and Vince both loved and hated that. Part of him wanted her to be meek, to both accept the imminent collapse that would be her in his bed or go to the opposite extreme and reject him so harshly that he never contemplated the thought of being between her thighs again. Yet, she continued to toy with him just as he toyed with her. 
“But I know you. I’ve known you for a long time. You’re hot, don’t get me wrong. But you’re also filthy rich. An athlete. I’d fake it too if that meant I might get a piece of that life. Fuck, some might just do it for the bragging right alone,” there was a humour in her voice, one that dropped into a low hum as her lips curled with her next words, “but I’d bet you couldn’t find the clit if I drew you a map.”
It was Vince who laughed as he took his lazy strides away from the porch railing. Bare feet stepped over wet wood, the chill coursing up the length of his now heated body. He felt on the verge of sweating as he came to stand toe to toe with Samantha, towering over her and trapping her with her back against the door. As if he could risk getting any closer to her, he took in a steady inhale as he braced himself against the screen door, giving her nowhere to run. 
He stared down at her, and her up at him as they stood in silence. The only sound around them was the water of the lake in the distance crashing against the rocks on the shore and the trickle of water down the eavestrough as the remnants of the rain slowly faded into the night. Then, so faintly, yet so loudly in his ears, he heard Samantha take a quivering breath. 
He was so close to her, and her to him, that he could feel the night’s chill on her body, and he was sure that she could feel every breath he took on her cheeks as he stared down at her. 
“Let me warm you up a bit?”
Full pink lips parted to speak, but she found no words. His mere proximity had rendered her to silence, and he hadn’t even touched her yet. Samantha could only nod as she looked up at him, her hands fisting the too-long sleeves of her sweatshirt. 
If he had wanted to be cruel, he would have pulled back and went up to bed. To leave her standing there until she realized just how close he was to kissing her, to touching her. He would have loved to tease her, leaving her craving his kiss on her lips when she was just a breath away from having it. But not even Vince could deny himself of just a simple pleasure when he had gone through the entirety of his day at the cabin thinking about it. 
Vince leaned in nice and slow, almost waiting for Samantha to speak a single word. To tell him to stop before he could even taste her, but that moment never came. Instead, he watched as her eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted in a subtle breath as she welcomed the caution of his kiss. Her lips were smooth against his own, so soft and plush that Vince’s hand which had lain flat against the door gripped into a fist. Samantha returned his kiss, easing his cautions, and what little restraint he had was quickly dwindling. 
His tongue ventured out through parted lips, coaxing her lips into parting and giving himself a taste of her. Vince’s tongue stroked against her own, and he heard the softest of moans as she let it slip into his mouth. She tasted sweet, like strawberries, and was only beginning to ease the hunger that consumed him. 
It was a hunger that had him throwing all caution away now that he had gotten a taste of her. His body pressed firm into her while one hand remained up above her against the door. His other hand explored. It found the curve of her waist, craving so desperately to travel upwards to grope at her breast, but Vince’s touch travelled down. Down along the curve of her waist and over the swell of her lip before stroking over the skin of her exposed thigh and settling between her legs. 
Samantha quivered as her breath hitched. Vince’s fingers had stroked over the thin cotton of her panties and dipped down just low enough to rest just over her clit. Then his hand stilled, and his kiss halted. Vince just stood there, his fingers a ghost of his touch over her clit without giving her the satisfaction of pressing into it. 
Vince just wanted her to know that he knew exactly where it was. 
Drawing back slowly, Vince smirked down at Samantha, who looked to be on the verge of collapsing if it wasn’t for the support of the screen door against her back. 
“You should go back up to bed before we do something stupid,” Vince tells her slowly, and she still can only nod. 
She took a moment to find her composure there against the door before she fixed her sweater and pushed off of it. She didn’t have to go far, taking only a mere step before she turned around and pulled it open to let herself inside. But he wasn’t following her, and it left her lingering in the doorway as she spoke. “You’re not coming?”
“I’m going to need a minute,” Vince admitted, stepping back to lean against the porch. The moonlight caught him just right and cast the shadow of his own erection against his thigh. He didn’t hide it. He wanted her to look. To see the effect she had on him, and what he can offer her in return. 
And she noticed. It was clear in how red her cheeks became, and how quick she was to look away when he caught her admiring the outline of his cock. Samantha’s hair fell down into her face in a golden curtain that hid her bashful smile as she retreated through the door with nothing more than a simple, “goodnight”. 
It shut hollowly behind her, leaving Vince to stand on his own. He welcomed the breeze, and he welcomed the quiet, but calm did not come as easily. Vince has to fight off every corrupt thought, the feeling of her skin that lingered on his fingertips and the taste of her on his tongue. The mere essence of her remained with him even after the night’s cold shocked Vince back into a calm, and as he returned inside. Samantha was a lingering thought as he moved through the main level, up the spiral staircase, and when he stopped just outside her door. 
His eyes dragged up and down the door frame, fixating on the tarnished handle as he stepped a little closer, his hand outstretched, only for it to ball into a fist before he could take it in his hold. He shouldn’t. He couldn’t. And he sighed as he took a step back and retreated into his room for a restless night of sleep.
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Come morning, Vince did what he should have done since he caught Samantha in her room. He kept his distance. After a restless night, he woke up with the sun. It was barely cresting over the horizon when he had pulled on his sneakers and went for a run through the familiar trails that wound through the trees that surrounded the cabin. When he returned, Sam and Miles were both making breakfast. And while his stomach growled with hunger, he made his excuses and disappeared into the bathroom for a quick, cold shower. It was only when the kitchen was clear; that he stood at the counter and ate breakfast alone. Strawberries, eggs, and toast. The strawberries were all that remained on his plate when he was done, knowing he could not last a day where the taste of them lingered on his tongue. 
Then Vince spent his day away from the cabin, out on the water. Unlike the day before when the rain left it feeling more like autumn than the last long weekend of summer, the sun was out in full force before noon. He enjoyed every moment of its warm embrace as he whipped around the lake on the back of a jet ski. 
Out on the lake, it was just him and Miles. The perfect distraction from the temptations that waited for him back at the cabin. But it didn’t keep his mind from wandering, wondering. When the warmth of the sun met the chill of the water and didn’t shock him, Vince thought about Samantha. About what happened the night before, and what she might be doing. He hadn’t seen her since he had given her the cold shoulder at breakfast, but it didn’t stop him from hoping that she was staying out of trouble. 
Vince got his answer when he pulled up at the dock behind Miles just after noon. Samantha was down by the edge of the water, her body glistening with water as she climbed out from a swim. Even from a distance, he could see how it glimmered like glitter as it travelled down her curves as she made no effort to dry off. She had pulled her hair up in a claw lip, giving him a better view of her body than she had unintentionally given him the day before. And her blue and white gingham bikini was too tiny, leaving very little to the imagination. She might as well have been standing in front of him naked. 
Vince had to bite his tongue as he threw his life jacket down on the dock. He wanted to desperately to tell her to go inside, to put some clothes on, but he couldn’t give any suggestion that his view of her had changed. Vince needed to be unbothered, even if the mere sight of her made his skin crawl in the best of ways. Especially as Miles led the way back up to the cabin. 
With his eyes fixated on the ground, Vince followed Miles’ path with no guidance beyond watching his ankles. It was the only way he could keep himself from staring at Samantha as they walked up the dock - but the moment Miles called out to his sister, Vince’s eyes strayed from his hollow steps on the dock and found their way back to Samantha. 
She had settled back in a lounge chair at the edge of the water, her petite body sprawled out in a way that almost looked staged. Like she was waiting for someone to take her picture. Sam wanted him to look at her. And in her hands, she held a book. Not that Vince cared to notice it as his eyes dragged up the length of her legs. It was her brother who made him aware of it in the cradle of her hold. 
“Good book?” Miles’ words were simple as he approached his sister, Vince following in his shadow. 
“Very. I’m almost done,” Samantha held up her book with one hand, and let the other fall on her sunglasses to push them back up into her hair, “just started today.”
“You’ve been out there that long?” Miles asked, and Vince almost groaned. He just wanted to get back in the house, but he wasn’t about to push past Miles to do it. 
It would beg too many questions if he didn’t loiter. If he didn’t wait for the two siblings to finish whatever mundane conversation they were having. 
“Yeah,” her answer was slow as she looked past her book, and to her brother and for a moment Vince was sure her eyes flickered to him. Just to make sure he was looking. And he was. So shamefully, he was. 
“Did you put on sunscreen?” Miles' question left both Vince and Samantha groaning, and he could only hope that Miles didn’t notice. 
“Of course,” Sam sat up, almost offended by the accusation, and her breast seemed to bounce at the motion. Testing the flimsy hold of her bikini and catching the stare of his eyes as they settled. 
“Recently?”
“You sound just like mom,” Sam tossed back at Miles and set her book down on the chair beside her and she reached for her sunscreen. 
It was the end of her conversation with her brother, sending him up the path back up to the house. And Vince moved after him, but Samantha wasn’t done with him yet. 
“Vince, hey,” she called out to him, stilling his steps and drawing his gaze back to her as she sat in her chair, “can you help me get my back?”
Sam wore a devilish smile on her lips as she held out the sunscreen to him, wiggling it silently as if her body alone wasn’t enough to entice him. 
“Sammy,” Vince sighed, his jaw slack as his eyes rolled. 
She shouldn’t be asking him to do these things, but she knew that. 
And he should have said no and gone back up to the house with Miles, but he couldn’t. She knew that too. 
“Please,” she pouted her bottom lip out at him, and it had him backtracking. 
The smile Sam gave him was one of triumph as he took the sunscreen from her hand and sat down on the chair next to her. He kept his eyes fixated on the bottle and the lotion as he squeezed it out into the palm of his hand. It was all he could do to keep himself from staring, but he regretted it the moment he looked up. 
While he had been distracting himself, Samantha had reached back with both hands and unknotted the back of her strapless bikini. Vince had looked up just in time to watch as the wet bathing suit fell away and he panicked. 
With one hand full of sunscreen, he dropped the bottle that he held in the other and reached out to her. It was a reflex that fried his every thought process. One moment, he was telling himself he needed to stop the fabric from falling away from her body. He needed to stop Samantha from exposing her breasts. And the next, he froze, mere inches from her body at the realization that if he stopped that fabric from falling, he would have a hand full of her breast. 
His hand flexed as he flinched back, his eyes narrowing as the fabric fell, but her arms came up to cradle her breast in her hold. He wanted to curse at her, to shout for being so reckless, but he didn’t want to draw in any unnecessary attention. 
Vince could only sigh. 
“Jesus, Sammy. What are you doing?”
Her smile was unwavering as she sat there facing him so confidently with her smile. Not even the risk of her own breast spilling over the hold of her arms had her shying away from him as she innocently answered, “What? I don’t want to get tan lines!”
And he almost believed her. Almost. 
If it weren’t for the testing twinkle in her eyes, he would have thought it was an innocent thing. But paired with her little smirk, Vince knew she was teasing him. 
He watched as she turned in place so that her back was to him. A heavy breath caught in his chest when he thought she might have to reach a hand up to hold her hair away from her back before his eyes flicked up to the clip that held her hair in place. The clip alone helped put him a little at ease, even if his body was rigid as he reached out to spread the lotion over the flesh of her back. His hand moved in gentle strokes as his eyes looked up at the cabin to ensure her brother had gone inside before he let his eyes return to her. 
Before he could see it, Vince could feel Sam’s reaction to his touch. She was melting beneath his fingers, her shoulders falling forward and her head lulling back on her shoulders. Vince watched as the tension of her muscles disappeared and he smirked as she leaned back into the caress of his hands. 
“I think you’re just making up excuses for me to touch you,” his words were a low growl as he leaned in to mutter them in her ear. There was a long moment of silence that fell between them, and he waited for her to deny it, but she didn’t. “You like how my hands feel on your body?”
His words hit her in a breath, and she refused to answer him with words. But her body was all he needed to know about the effect he was having on her. He noticed how her toes flex in anticipation, and how her hips angled her pelvis down. Vince couldn’t see what exactly Sam had angled herself into, but he was sure she was one touch away from grinding against the lounge chair. 
“My offer still stands,” Vince told her as his hands settled on the curve of her waist and gripped her flesh carefully. It’s a touch that leaves her glancing over her shoulder at him, her face-framing strands falling into her eyes as she bites at her lower lip. 
There was no more wonder. No more contemplation. She wanted him and Vince could only wish that he could take her right then and there, but it was too risky. Too stupid. 
“Tonight?” she offered in a quiet yelp as Vince guided her hips in a careful roll that sent her cunt grinding against the lounge chair. 
“No, we can’t do it here, not with your brother around,” Vince sighed, leaning forward to place a careful, reassuring kiss on her shoulder, “I have an idea, but you’re going to have to follow my lead. Okay?”
“Yeah,” Sam nodded, “okay.”
With her answer, Vince left her there, out on the lawn in the embrace of the sun, and didn’t see her again until dinner. 
The three of them sat around the small dining table, the sound of forks scraping against glassware filling the silence between mouthfuls and casual conversation. It was with them, all together, that Vince could put his attempt of a plan into motion. 
“Hey, man,” Vince nodded to Miles across the table casually, “can I take your truck into town in the morning? Early. I just want to grab a few things, and I don’t think my car will handle the back roads.”
His eyes glanced over at Sam as he spoke. This is it, princess, he thought as she watched her straighten up in her seat, her fingers toying with the drawstring on her sweatshirt hood. 
“Yeah, go for it,” was the answer Vince expected, and the one that Miles gave to him. 
“Thanks man, I-”
“Vince,” Sam cut in, and Vince had to try not to smile. “Do you mind if I tag along? I, ah, I need a few things.” The way she emphasized the word, things didn’t leave room for Vince or Miles to question it. 
All Vince needed to do was accept, and he did it with a look of annoyance to hide the satisfaction that had him melting back into his seat. “Yeah, that’s fine. Just be up on time or I’m leaving without you-”
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On the cold morning, the truck’s windows were fogged, and the cab left chilled even as the motor ran. Vince’s stiff, tired fingers toyed with the dials of the air conditioning that was left on. He was quick to turn it off, replacing the cool air with a gust of warmth that left him leaning back in the driver’s seat. Beside him, resting on the bench seat, was a pile of heavy blankets and on top of them was the box of condoms. He couldn’t hide the crooked smile that consumed him at the sight of the tattered cardboard as his head leaned back against the headrest. He had waited all weekend to get to use them. His original intention was to pick up some random, desperate woman from the beach, but his plans quickly changed because of Samantha. And while it left a heavy feeling in his gut, his cock was already half-hard just waiting for her. 
Watching through a patch in the window that he had wiped clear of the fog with his fist, Vince waited. For how long, he didn’t really know, but it was long enough that doubt crept in. His hot breath mixed with the cold air, and would fog up the window once and then again as he watched the front door. There was no sign of life. No light. No movement. No Samantha. 
Eyes dropped to the bright, blue-green glow of the digital clock. It was still early. Earlier than he told her, but even he got nervous when the stakes were high. The minutes ticked by and Vince began making excuses as to why he didn’t make it into town after all for when Samantha didn’t join him - but then the front door opened and a wave of relief hit him. 
Samantha left the house as if her brother didn’t know that the two of them had plans to run into town. Her every moment was slow, deliberate and careful, and she had the hood of her zip-up sweatshirt pulled up over her head as if she needed to conceal who she was. It left Vince chuckling as she climbed into the seat next to him, her blonde hair framing her face and the bright blue of her eyes as she looked at him. 
“What?” she asked him slowly, a weakness in her voice that sounded more like insecurity than sleepiness. 
“It’s nothing,” Vince assured her slowly, his hand reaching up to throw the truck into reverse before Sam could put her seatbelt on, “you’re just a dork. Sneaking out like that. Your brother knows we’re going out.”
“Yeah,” she breathed out, her hands reaching up to push her hood back, “right.”
Together, they sat in the truck cab in silence as they drove down the road. The fog beaded into drops of moisture, streaking down the windows as the heat cleared it away. On the horizon the sun was only just rising, flooding the dark skies with the many shades of sunrise. It was a beautiful sight, even with heavy tired eyes, even if they wouldn’t be able to see it for long as he turned down a back road that was smothered by the overgrowth of towering trees. 
Thin branches reached out over the narrow road, their baring branches hitting and scratching at the truck as it passed. The tires kicked up the dirt, and even while he slowed, it left a dust cloud in their wake. It wasn’t an unfamiliar road. Miles’ dad had taken them all fishing when they were kids, just beyond the dead end. Where the road met thick brush, and beyond it the water. But the paths once taken had long since grown over, and there were no other vehicles parked along the edge of the road. There would be no one to interrupt them for now, but Vince knew they would have to be vigilant. 
“Alright, get in the back,” Vince broke the silence, his hand reaching out for the pile of blankets. 
He tucked them under his arm, and in his hand, he carried the box of condoms in his firm grip as he slid out of the driver’s seat and rounded back to climb into the truck bed. The truck bed was cold and it wouldn’t be the most comfortable of things for her, but Vince was going to do his best. Tossing the condoms down, he unfolded one blanket and laid it out, then another. The third he would use to keep them warm. 
Samantha stood at the end of the bed, watching him with curious eyes before letting herself climb up into the bed with him. He watched her as she crawled up the length of it. Her black leggings hugged her body with each movement, right down to her chunky white sneakers on her feet. She looked like she was going for a run more than she looked to be going to a dick appointment. But she was comfortable as she sat down at his side - a little nervous, but comfortable all the same and it left Vince smiling. 
“Come ‘here,” he coaxed her as he reached across the little space between them for her hand. 
He held it carefully in his hold, giving it a careful tug to draw her in close, only to drop it when she was near enough to place his hands on her hips. His hold on her was gentle, his thumbs stroking over the swell of her hipbone as he guided her down to straddle his hips. Vince could feel her warmth on every side of him, bleeding through the thick fabric of his black hooded sweatshirt and his grey sweatpants as they warmed between her thighs. With her there, he took a moment to admire her, his bright eyes flickering over her softened features. She was doing a good job of hiding her nerves, but he could still see it there in her eyes, as she couldn’t quite meet his own. 
When he spoke, his hand moving up and down over her thighs in a soft stroke as he did so, he only made it worse. “Alright, Sammy, tell me what I’m working with.”
Her gaze shifted from where they seemed to stare at his lips to the trees beyond as she chewed at her bottom lip, “I, um.”
She was hesitating. Unsure of what exactly he was asking, or too nervous to tell him the dirty little details he didn’t know, he encouraged her all the same. “How far have you gone before?”
Sam blushed, her eyes coming to find his face again, and only for a moment did he meet his eyes. “Over the clothes.”
“And what do you do when you’re by yourself?”
“Vince!” His name was soft on her tongue, her eyes wide as her mouth full agape. She hadn’t been expecting him to ask her that. 
“Hey,” he met her, his own voice dropping to her softness as he reached his hand up to caress her cheek, “You don’t have to worry with me, okay? I’m not here to judge you,” she relaxed into his touch, a heavy sigh rocking her body, “and if I’m going to fuck you, Princess, I want to know what you like and what you’re going to be able to handle-”
Her insecurity broke, her lips spaying into a confident smile as she leaned in to challenge him. “I can handle anything you give me.”
There she was. The Samantha that was so eager to toy with him. 
“Humour me then?” His head cocked as his hand left her cheek and traced the outline of her curves. It ghosted over the swell of her breasts, and his hand hesitated there for a moment. Vince craved to grope a handful, but his touch travelled over her waist and settled on her hips once more. He gripped them tight and guided them into their first gentle roll over his cock.
Sam’s eyes fluttered shut at the friction. Her lips parted in a silent gasp before she could bite down on her lower lip.  
“How often?” Vince asked. 
“Often,” was her simple, feeble response. 
A smile grew over Vince’s lips as she crumbled for him. He sat up from where he leaned against the back window of the truck and leaned in. She had found her rhythm, her lips rolling over his slowly, but not enough to tease him. She, much like him, was too eager to wait. Vince’s eyes shut as he fought off a groan of his own, his face finding the warmth of her neck just below her ear. It was there he kissed her, his hot breath warming her skin as he muttered, “Fingers or toys?”
“Fingers.”
His lips dragged over the smooth angle of her jaw in a slow kiss before he spoke again, “Clit or-”
“Vince-”
He kissed down her neck, his teeth grazing over her flesh as he tried to coax an answer from her. “Sam.”
She hesitated, and it had Vince leaning back to look up at her. No answer. No sex. 
Pouting in his lap, Sam let out an embarrassed huff. “You know the answer.”
“How many fingers?”
Her face was bright red, her skin so hot that Vince forgot that he had been cold. And while she hesitated, she answered him, “Two.” 
Vince’s hands left her hips and took hold of one of hers.  He drew it up so she could see it in front of her. There, his palm met hers and they compared how much bigger his hands and fingers were to hers. He let her stare, her eyes wide as her tongue stroked over her bottom lip. He knew exactly what she was thinking about at that moment without her needing to say a word. Vince had planted the very thought of wondering what his fingers would feel like as they plunged into her core. And he felt her shudder. 
“I’ll be gentle,” he promised, “but you have to promise me that if it becomes too much, or it hurts, you tell me to stop. Got that?”
Samantha nodded slowly, her teeth biting her lip before she let it fall with her words. “I promise.”
“Good girl,” he praised her, and she shuddered again. 
She liked praise. And he noted it. 
“So,” she hummed slowly, “where do we start?” Vince could only hush her as his hand reached up to stroke through her thick blond hair. His fingers toyed with her soft strands as he pushed them away from her face before they came to rest at the nape of her neck. With that hold, he guided her in and met her lips in a kiss. 
There was no caution between them. No hesitation as their lips fell into that same hunger that they had fought back on the porch during the night he had let his desire to fuck her swelter cloud every bit of her better judgement. Her tongue was in his mouth, her hands were in her hair. Tangled in each tendril as he held her head in his hands. Thumbs coaxed her carefully, guiding her mouth open further. The kiss became sloppy, saliva-coated chins and teeth clashed in the desperation of it all. And then his hands dropped. 
Samantha had maintained the careful roll of her hips over his raging cock, so she didn’t need his help there. Now, he got to explore. 
There was no stopping how his smile splayed over his lips as his hands found the swells of her breast and brushed over them in a feather-light touch. Vince had wanted to indulge himself in them from the very moment he had spotted her there in her bed, and now he was finally going to get the chance. A single hand found the zipper of her sweatshirt, and he pinched it between his thumb and forefinger before dragging it down. It took all of his willpower not to break the kiss and not to look down to see what she wore beneath her sweater. His hands got to do all the exploring as he pushed the sweater open, but not off of her. And he let out his first audible groan when he felt what was beneath. 
Samantha wore nothing but what felt like a lacey bralette beneath her sweater as the delicate fabric that dropped off to her smooth flesh greeted Vince’s fingertips. His hands moved blindly, stoking over soft skin and fingers hooked on the flimsy fabric that concealed her breasts and pulled it down. There was no holding back now, not as he could feel the heavy weight of them spill over the excuse of a hold that was the bralette. He needed to see them. 
Strong arms embraced Sam around her middle, coiling around her as Vince broke the kiss in a desperate gasp. So selfishly, he housed her up to sit just a little high on her hips so that the very swells of her cleavage were in his sight. His lips came together in a satisfied hum, his hands gripping at the bralette in both hands to fully rid her chest of it before taking a breast in each hand. Large hands kneaded at her flesh, groaning when Samantha’s breasts seemed to overflow from his hold. 
They weren’t better than he had imagined. So full, so soft, and so tempting to his mouth as Vince leaned in to place sloppy open-mouthed kisses over the swells of her breasts. Then his lips travelled down, his tongue lapping over a single pert nipple before he was taking it fully in his mouth. 
He wasn’t sure if it was the warmth of his mouth, or the stroke of his tongue that coaxed it out of her, but with his mouth consuming her breast, Samantha’s lips parted in a soft sweet gasp. It had Vince smiling against her flesh. But what he liked more was how her hands stoked up the back of his neck and found his curls. He could feel the gentle scratch of her manicured nails over his scalp as her fingers knitted and tugged carefully at his locks. It sent a hum of pleasure buzzing through him, one that had his hands drop to her hips to get a good grip on her. And then he flipped her, her breast falling from his mouth as her back hit the truck bed, and quaking with the impact. 
A heavy breath left him as his eyes fixated on her breast again, watching them bouse as they settled and a groan ripped up the back of his throat. Selfishly, he wanted to fuck them. To press them together with his hands and thrust his cock between them until he came. And he would unload all over them and watch it drip down over each swell. 
The thought alone made his cock throb. 
But that’s not why they were there - and he was done holding back. 
“You’ve got such a great body,” he complimented her in a rush of words that sounded more like one as his hands traced the curve of her waist and settled at the top of her tight black leggings.  
He gripped the fabric in his fists and tugged them down the length of her legs, only to hit her sneakers. Two kicks of her feet and they were gone, leaving her in her panties and her unzipped sweatshirt beneath him. Then, he reached up, pulling off his own sweatshirt, baring his chest to her, and shivering in the breeze. Vince’s mouth opened to apologize for the cold, but his words were unspoken as Samantha leaned forward, her lips kissing over the toned muscles of his abdomen. 
And he just smiled. 
That was the beauty of sex. It didn’t need to be learned or taught. It was all instinct. Once he had gotten her caught up in the moment, in the rush of the feeling, Samantha knew exactly what to do. Biting his lip, Vince’s head lulled back. He relished in the feeling of her sweet pink lips against his skin, and every breath that washed over him. But there was a risk in taking his take with her. At any moment, another truck could roll up, and he intended to get back to the house long before Miles woke up. 
Reaching out with one hand, he took hold of the third and final blanket while the other stroked back Samantha’s hair from her face. “Lay back, Princess.” 
She didn’t hesitate, and Vince positioned himself fully between her thighs. His hands made quick work of the blanket, draping it over his back and leaning in close so that it fell over them both to give them some semblance of warmth. Then his hands were on her body once more. He stroked down over her thighs before dipping down into the heat between them. The skin of Samantha’s inner thigh was so delicately soft that Vince was almost worried that the hardworking callouses on his palms might hurt her. But any thought of worry was gone the moment a single finger stroked over the damp fabric at the crotch of her panties. 
“You’re so nice and wet for me,” his words were a growl as his fingers settled on her clit. This time, he didn’t just tease her with the very knowing of where it was. Vince pressed into the sensitive nerves, stroking her slowly and coaxing her into a heavy breath and the careful buck of her hips. 
“Would you like me to take these pretty little panties off?” 
Nothing more than Samantha’s desperate nods met his question, and Vince didn’t make her wait. The careful rise of her hips helped him as his finger hooked along the thin fabric and dragged it down. She was already such a mess for him, and he’d barely touched her. Vince could see it in how her face softened for him and felt it against his fingers as he slipped her panties from her ankles and took them in his fist. He gripped them tight for a moment before he shoved them into the pocket of his sweatpants. 
As to not to lose them - or maybe to keep them as a souvenir. 
He smiled at the thought of getting to keep them. Of getting to bring them back to St Louis and keeping them in his own drawer. And it had fully consumed him as he leaned in close and let his hand settle between her legs again. Bare for him, he could feel everything. From her clit to the slickness of her core, he stroked her with a single finger. Gathering that sweet arousal around his index finger before he eased it into the tightness of her cunt. 
His thrust was slow, careful as he eased into her inch by inch until he was knuckle deep. 
“That’s it, princess,” he encouraged her in a hit whisper that washed over her face as she let out a silent moan, “doing so good for me, you want another?”
He met her eyes that seemed to flutter with every careful pump of his fingers, earning a sweet, “Yes, yes, Vince, please,” from her lips. 
“Ready?” he asked her, his words as slow and agonizing as his last thrust with his single finger. And before she could answer, his middle finger had joined in on the plunge, stealing her words and sending a moan into the air. 
Birds in the trees above flew in a flock from the treetops, startled by the noise. “Easy there, Princess, it might not just be me and you out here,” Vince cautions her, his eyes meeting hers and he feels her core flex around his fingers. “Oh?” his head cocked. “You like that? The idea of being caught? That someone could walk out of the trees or drive in from the main road and catch us here. My fingers knuckle deep in your pretty little pussy.”
Each word coaxed out a heavy breath, and her walls squeezed around his fingers in a warm embrace that left Vince salivating. He was so close to making her come already. And it was a good thing too. The tension between them over the last two days had left him on edge. Once he had her, he knew he wouldn’t last as long as he would like to with her. 
“You ready for my cock, princess?”
Samantha let out a weak hum and reached out her hands to tug at his sweatpants that already hung low on his hips. The tips of her fingers grazed over his flesh, tracing over the angles of his toned body as she brought them down just enough that his cock sprang free. Vince had half hoped to see a shocked expression take her features, but he wasn’t naïve enough to think his cock wasn’t the first she’d seen. He had been one or more unsolicited dick-pic away from that honor, but he was going to be the first of what really mattered. 
Vince reached out for the almost forgotten box of condoms, crushing the already battered cardboard in his hold as he fished for the foil package with two fingers. Securing it, he tossed the box aside again, spilling the contents in the truck bed, before ripping open the package and working the thin latex onto his cock. Choking back a groan at the stroke of his own hand, Vince asked, “You watch porn?”
She didn’t shy away from answering him now that her mind was dizzy with lust. “Yeah,”
“Forget everything you’ve ever watched for a second, and just enjoy the moment, the feeling.”
Vince had pressed the top of his cock to the narrow entrance of her core before he could finish speaking. The very pressure of the tip punctuated his words as it eased his way into the embrace of her walls. She was warm, warmer even as Vince leaned in to press his body flush against hers. All the morning cold seemed to disappear around him, the warmth of her body all so consuming as she entwined herself with his by body and limb. He could feel all of her, from how her feet dragged down the length of his lengths before hooking behind his knees to how one hand knitted in the curls of his hair while the other scratched and gripped at his back. But her hold on him, and the slow, steady and deep thrusts, were not enough to keep them anchored in place in the back of her brother’s truck. 
Reaching his hand out, Vince pressed it firmly against the cold glass window. The temperate sent a shock right through him. It was such an intense contrast to her warmth, to the pulse of her core around his cock with every one of his thrusts. He fucked her good and slow, kissing her slowly just to feel her sweet moans against his own lips as if he could taste them. And then her climax hit her, so hard he could feel every wave as it consumed her. Vince could feel her legs weaken and tremble, and her grasp on him only grew tighter, as she didn’t quite know yet how to handle the intensity of the pleasure he had brought her.
The pulling on his hair, the coaxing of her core and the squeeze of her legs around his tights brought his own soft groans as he fell into the chase of his own high. His every movement that followed was primal. The sound that left his lips uncontrollable as his thrusts hastened, and his cock twitched against her core’s insistent grasp. Pleasure strangled his final moan as his hips crashed into hers and Vince kept himself buried deep inside her cunt as he unloaded. It left him panting,  sweating, groaning, relieved as he had finally gotten what he had been craving the entire long weekend. 
Yet, he felt a sense of disappointment. He wished he could have been able to take his time with her. To really enjoy her and teach her a few things outside of being a pretty little pillow princess. 
“Fuck, I could have so much fun with you,” Vince told her in a low muttering that he was sure would become lost in the wind. And it was the truth. She had the perfect body, and Sam was still so impressionable in the bedroom. Vince wanted to be the one who walked her through all of it. To be the one who ruined every single other man for her. But she would be off to university in a few days, and he had to report to training camp. Even if he wanted her, there would be too great a distance between to satiate and desire that took him. 
Drawing out of her, Vince eased the condom from his cock and pulled his sweatpants up quickly. Fingers knotted up the end, and with little regret, he tossed it into the grass beside the road before he hunted down his clothes. The two of them moved around the truck bed, gathering their things and shrugging into their clothes in silence. That fact left worry hanging heavily in Vince’s stomach. By now, women would have complimented him on anything, everything, desperate to get inside his head after a hookup. But Sam had barely met his eyes as he stared at her breasts one last time before Sam zipped up her sweater.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” she breathed out, coming to stand in front of him, but she didn’t offer another word to him. Instead, she leaned in and pressed up onto her toes to place a simple kiss on his cheek, “but you might have to help me down.”
“I can do that,” Vince grinned and made that his priority. 
He jumped down from the truck bed and reached his arms out to her. Hands settled on the curve of her waist and lifted her down with ease. But he didn’t stop there. Vince wrapped one arm around her and watched her with soft eyes and an amused smile as she walked to the passenger side on weak legs. Her strides had been slow and careful, and he had been the one who did that to her. 
“Get in. I’ll take care of the rest.” Vince helped her into the passenger’s seat before closing the door firmly behind her. 
Then, he made quick work of the mess they made in the truck bed. Vince folded the blankets in on one another, hiding the stray condom that had fallen out of the box, and any traces of sex they may have left behind. They ended up in more a ball than nicely folded, and he tossed into the backseat before Vince found his seat and started up the engine just as another truck pulled into the end of the road. 
The driver, an old man, his face thick with wrinkles and his smile friendly, so Vince rolled down the window and offered a friendly wave. 
“Any luck out there this morning?”
His mind was cloudy, stuck in a bit of a daze of his own, and left confused by the stranger’s question before he watched him reach into the back of his truck for an old fishing rod. 
“No, nothing for us, though we weren’t out long,” Vince upheld the friendly conversation as he reached his arm up to stretch over the back of the seat of the truck. He patted the soft leather of the bench seat, coaxing Samantha over to lean into his side casually. His hand stroked over her arm as he spoke to the man, the conversation falling on the nice weather the day was supposed to have for fishing, but it wasn’t long before he was wishing the man luck and Vince was putting the car in reverse. 
With Sam pulled close to his side, he drove into town on the back roads in silence. Not that they really needed anything from the store, but Vince knew if they didn’t return with anything, Miles would get suspicious. 
When they arrived, Vince left Samantha in the truck and went into the store alone. He grabbed odds and ends of things. Items that he could have easily forgotten to pack for the weekend, and he even bought Samantha a box of tampons just to cover all the bases before he returned to the truck. She had turned the music on and eased back into her place by his side on the bench seat, but they continued to ride in silence. 
Vince could hear her every tired breath and the music that was just loud enough to hear but not loud enough to make out the lyrics. And when she rested her head on his shoulder, he almost groaned. The silence was getting to him, his own curiosities now eating away at him. Vince wanted to know what she was thinking, what she felt. But he was only a quick glance in the mirror from seeing that her eyes were softly closing, sleep threatening to take her as they travelled down the final stretch of road before they were back of the cabin. 
He let her flirt with the idea of sleep, but the moment he pulled into the driveway his touch had found her face. He pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head just enough to look up at him. Her eyes fluttered, and her smile pulled at her lips as just how close they were. And he smiled too as he whispered, “You still upset with me for scaring away your little friend?”
Her head shook slowly as she tried to look away to hide the smile that played on her lips, but his hold on her kept her in place. Days ago, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she had screamed at him for what he did. Shouted, hell, he wouldn’t have put it past her if Sam had told him she hated him for what he did, but it was all very different now. 
She had no frustration in her eyes. No anger. 
“And how do you feel right now?”
Glancing back at him, Samantha could only shrug as her cheeks were the faintest shade of pink. There was a dreamy look on her face, one that Vince had seen so many times before. One of peace, one of calm and adoration. 
Lust. 
Longing. 
 Love. 
“That’s the endorphins.” His words were soft, a long hum as his hands cupped her face in his hands. “You see, this is the shit they don’t teach you about sex in school. When I fucked you, made you feel so good, it fucked with your brain chemistry. Releases Oxytocin or some shit during orgasm.” His thumb trailed down her cheek oh so slowly, drawing her into a heavy breath that left her bottom lip quivering. Vince stroked it slowly. “Fucking dangerous thing it is. It’s why every time a man touches you from here on out, and he doesn’t get you there, you’re going to think of me. When you touch yourself, you’re going to think of me. And when you do, fucking call because I want to see the mess I’ve fucking turned you into.”
Samantha’s features softened, her eyes wide and her mouth agape in awe at his words. There was nothing she could say to change the effect he would have on her for the rest of her days. A little piece of her would always belong to him. It went beyond the physicality of it all, and Vince fucking loved that. 
His thumb stroked over his lower lip one last time, knowing that just touching like that in the driveway was too great a risk, but he wanted more. Vince leaned in and kissed her hard. He wanted to taste her tongue later in the day when he wanted to fuck her, but could only reminisce about the feeling. His fingers nearly knotted in her hair. So close to drawing her in and fucking her in the truck cab, but the possibility of being caught by Miles there left an uncomfortable knot in his gut. Yet, he didn’t pull back until he knew her lips would swell from the kiss. But it might have been too late. 
The front door was the first thing he looked at when Vince pulled back from Samantha, his hands still cradling her face. And his body flooded with panic when he saw the door wide open, and Miles making his way out the door, his eyes fixated on the gravel beneath his feet. The truck cab filled with a series of rushed curses as they rushed to put as much distance between themselves as possible. Samantha went as far as to press her back against the passenger side door. There the both of them stayed, panting, watching as her brother looked up towards the truck and he smiled. 
Miles hadn’t seen a thing. 
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flowersandbigteeth · 3 months
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Roth the mothman was so cute! Thanks so much for deciding to write my little brain rot idea! It’s also so nice that the club girls are respected and taken care of.
Now I can only imagine how adorable Roth would be if reader birthed a human daughter, and Roth being thrilled to play the tooth fairy. Collecting his little princess’s baby teeth over the years and putting them in a separate ostentatious case.
Why do mothmen collect their enemy’s teeth? What’s your lore on that?
I'm glad you liked it ^_^ I spent a long time thinking this one through to get it right <3
Yes, the club girls are a menace :D Roth mostly provides security, and supplies, the girls run the show how they want to run it.
OMG he would love having his babies' little first teeth!!!
So the teeth thing. I've been thinking about this tradition for a while and trying to figure out how to work it a story. Originally, the idea came from a medieval European practice where baby teeth were tossed into a fire immediately after they lost them so witches couldn't control their children.
I liked the idea that teeth have a sort of psychic power attached to their owner. In Roth's culture, they take it quite a few steps further. The strongest teeth (usually the front two, canines, or fangs) are taken from someone who wronged you gravely, so you would hold some mystical power over them so they can't offend you again. If a person is killed and their teeth are extracted, the Moth people believe they hold their enemies' power. The more teeth a Moth person possesses, the more powerful they are seen to be. This is an especially pertinent tradition to other monsters, like Elijah as having big fangs are very important to his abilities as a werewolf. Being defanged is humiliating.
One other tradition I also thought was interesting when researching Mothman, was that Mothmen are a harbinger of bad luck, not necessarily baddies themselves. So I thought in the monster community, Mothmen are considered pillars of justice. If a Mothman removes your teeth, everyone in the monster community knows you really fucked up somehow and you are shunned.
Mothmen's lives are a little lonely because if you hang around one, the general thought is they are kind of spooky and your might life might take a bad turn in the future, which is why I thought it was cute that the reader has chronic bad luck until she meets Roth. He might be bad luck to others, but not to the people he chooses to offer his protection.
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pearlofthesirens · 2 months
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OMG I LOVE YOUR FIC WITH VALERIA 🤩🤩🤩🤩 can you write some fluff with fem reader? Valeria and her girlfriend have a movie night after weeks of not seeing Val (she's a busy woman we understand) and Val is not 100% into it but she wants to see reader happy and in the middle of watching movie reader sees that Val fall asleep. A lot of cute stuff and maybe some sarcasm...obviously from Valeria. I'll be so happy to read this but if you don't like it it's totally fine 😘😘😘
Thank you 🖤
of course!! thank you so so much for submitting a request, i promise you will love this one <3
cw: tooth rotting fluff, slight spanish cursing, val being a tease and lots of happy gae moments
Valeria being a very busy lady, doesn't always get to spend quality time freely with you. Dates often get cancelled, "Stupid fucking gringos stepped in Las Almas again." and "Putamadre Alejandro!" were recurring words in your household during some of 'long' vacations she'd take only to leave for her work. She would always let you help her prepare herself for the upcoming missions, leaving after giving you the longest kiss full of love.
"Take care of yourself, okay chula? I've got men outside to protect you from any intruder, will be back soon."
It's one of those days you're sulking at home, watching a random cartoon movie in Spanish for no reason. The blanket was bunched at your thighs, the cushion of the couch dipped under your weight. A bowl of chips was present on the coffee table in front of you untouched, you refused to take a single bite. Nothing but Valeria's sweet smile was on your mind, oh how you missed her. If she were there, the movie would've been long forgotten and you two would've been busy cuddling.
You felt a tear roll down your cheeks. Solitude was really hitting you at that moment and you pulled the blanket around yourself, letting out a soft sob. The big house felt even bigger, and emptier without your lover there. You missed the times when the halls would echo with both of your laughter, fairy lights adorning the curtains as you two sat and watched the rain while cuddling with each other. You missed the times she would kiss you sweetly and call you hers, her fingertips tracing your lips. You missed everything about her. But your train of thoughts came to a halt when you felt a familiar hand on your head, ruffling your hair a little.
"Miss me, amorcito?"
Your head snapped back, eyes meeting with your girlfriend's. You could barely wipe your remaining tears away before she came round and sat beside you, using her thumbs to swipe them away.
"You cried, mi amor?"
You could only sniffle back as you wrapped your arms around her, pulling yourself closer. She gently rubbed your back, placing butterfly kisses on top of your head as you sobbed in her arms.
"Missed you so so much, Val. I thought..I thought I wouldn't be able to see you again."
"But I'm right here now, out of any trouble. Don't cry, mi vida. I'll make up for the missing time, I promise."
You pull your face away from her neck, letting her wipe away your tears before she pulled the blanket over both of you comfortably. Laying down on the couch, her hands crept up to yours and slowly pulled you down so you'd lay on top of her. Your head immediately met with the softness of her chest as her hands kneaded your ass, a teasing smirk on her face before her eyes turned to the TV screen.
"Coco, really? You were watching a kid's movie?"
"But it's nice."
"Being childish, are we?"
"You still love me."
Her hearty laugh made your heart increase its pace, her husky voice tickling your ear as she brought herself closer.
"Mierda, of course I do. So much that I'd watch a stupid movie for you."
Her hands slowly pulled the blanket over you two, arms trapping you as you placed your head on her chest. Your eyes followed the TV screen, watching the movie as Valeria's chest heaved in and out. The way she breathed calmed you down and you weren't upset anymore. your fingers gently fidgeted with her shirt, eyelids getting heavy. Turning to face Valeria with a yawn, you called out her name.
"Love, wanna sleep."
"Val."
"Val?"
The lack of response had your eyes wide open, and you met with the loveliest thing you would ever witness. Your girlfriend had fallen asleep with you on top of her, yet one of her hands still stayed on your ass. With a small smile, you raised your head and placed a soft kiss on her lips before switching the TV off. Her arms held you tightly in her sleep as you snuggled closer, nuzzling in her chest happily. At the end of the day, Valeria not only cares about you but also makes up for the time when she's not present, even if it means letting you lay on her chest while watching kid's movies.
(not proofread!!)
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heartthrobin · 10 months
Text
making merry, oh my little fairy (2)
sam winchester x fairy!reader
wc: 5.3k
warnings: soulmate!au (partners share scars), fem!reader, implied age gap (reader is early 20's), hella pining, tooth-rotting fluff, destiel is canon, town being mean to reader, some shaky police jargon, references to thick reader (everyone cheered) but can be ignored, dean being dean, canon-typical warnings (child kidnapping, violence ect.)
an: part 2 of my little fairy series! it's been sitting in my drafts for weeks and part 1 was pretty unpopular so i've been hesitant to post it but then i realized i write for myself and not for recognition! so enjoyyyyy. remember to comment and repost to support your favourite writers :)
summary: you flew around Sam's mind with your pretty little wings all night and all day, it doesn't help that you're popping up around every corner of this case. he's trying not to think about it.
part one part three part four
They'd sat in the car parked out front maybe longer than they should have. Sam noticed you peak through the curtain at the twenty minute mark, he only noticed because he could feel your curious gaze.
It disturbed him enough to allow Dean to fly down the neighbourhood road noisily at too many miles an hour.
Naturally, sleep became a stranger.
Dean was long passed out on the questionably lumpy motel bed and Sam was still at the desk. The white light off his laptop made his eyes itch.
A dryad is a tree nymph, commonly inhabiting oak trees, and generally born into the form of beautiful women. Many dryads were considered to be originally human or children of the nature Gods and it is widely believed that they take on the physical characteristics of the trees they protect.
Your eyes returned to him again, if not for the hundredth time that day. The way the greenery reflected off of them at him. The strength of your legs, how they were wide and grounding like the tree that engulfed your house. Your movements, your walk, how you floated like how the leaves shivered in the forest beyond your garden walls.
Sam had given considerable thought to his soulmate, as most people did.
He was turning thirty-one in a few months time and it had occurred to him that maybe you were on the other side of the world. Maybe you were dead. But people had warned him that he'd know if that were true. He'd feel it, like a gaping wound in his soul.
Castiel had appeared to Dean in a flash of light. In a heroic swoop of love, and Sam thought maybe that could happen to him too.
His thumb was warm where it ran over the scar down his arm.
He wondered if you thought the same.
If you dreamed of his arrival the way he'd dreamed of yours.
It was a silly thing, to dream of meeting your true love. Far too trivial in the life of someone like Sam Winchester when the fate of the world, of good versus evil and heaven versus hell was always in the palm of his hand.
But your figure was burned into his corneas like a blinding torch.
It scared him. Not an easy feat for the man who'd seen it all.
Sam had asked Dean a few years back.
Can someone live without their soulmate?
Dean had shrugged. "Sure, plenty of people do."
Sam had sunk back another sip of his beer at the time, they were somewhere in Florida.
"What if they'd already met them? Can they decide that they don't want to be with them?"
Dean chuckled at that. "I doubt that works out very often."
It was already long after Dean had met Castiel. Long after he'd survived his "my soulmate is an angel and a man what the fuck--" stage.
"What makes you say that? I'm sure some people have a strong enough willpower."
Dean had answered him by referencing some movie, one that Sam knew he loved and it took a bit of pestering for Dean to admit he knew the quote by heart.
He'd blushed nearly red and shrugged, accompanying it by another long slug of his beer.
"It's like at the end of the movie--" When Harry Met Sally, specifically, "When they're at that New Years party and Billy Crystal goes up to Meg Ryan and gives that whole speech, and he says that line."
Sam was grinning by then. "What line?"
Like he hadn't seen the movie enough times to know.
"You know, he when says ... when you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."
Sam had long made peace with the fact that even if you did ever come around, that it would be better to leave you be. To leave you in the safety of a life different to his own.
At least he had.
In the slim hours since leaving your doorstep he'd found himself choking over the thought of never seeing you again. Of his eyes never laying again on your face that gazed so happily up into his own, like you felt his warmth in a cold winter.
He was plagued, possessed, by the thought of never knowing more.
Never knowing the way you liked your tea, how you looked first thing in the morning, or worse, how your lips would feel slow and warm against his own.
He wanted to know your favourite song, and your worst fear. He wanted to know where you came from, how you found Fernglade, Washington. What's your favourite book, do you like to read? Would you like it if he read to you instead? Maybe you would, you'd be tucked against his side in bed and he'd tell you about his favourites. His favourite movies and the way he drinks his coffee and the shampoo he used. Maybe you'd play with his hair, braiding little flowers into the ends--
Sam groaned. His face fell into his hands.
This wasn't supposed to be happening. Not now.
But he supposed there would never be an adequate time for your arrival.
And god, you weren't even human.
Cross species soulmates weren't impossible - improbable, sure (about as much as being hit by lightening) - but not impossible.
It was only Sam's luck, the Winchester's luck, that they'd both been struck.
Castiel was an angel, but the concept seemed to fade off Dean quickly at the time.
Dean himself had been little help on the matter during the blurry drive back to the motel. "Hey. I mean, all things considered, fairy sex must be crazy."
Sam closed the tab on Dryads: A Modern Day Delve into Greek Mythology. Another page blinked up at him.
When the sun was still setting and Dean was still seated across from him, he had managed to do some work.
It distracted him, barely, but he managed to somewhat narrow the list of potential suspects.
The filters helped. Creatures that steal children. Creatures that live in the woods.
In all the webpages and in some text from John's journal he'd found a common thread. A thinly veiled one, but a lead regardless.
Goblins are generally found living in communities in burrows of forests across Western America. They are known to be mischievous and malignant spirits which often feed on small animals or easy prey and hunt during the warmer months before hibernating in Winter.
Children are easy prey, Sam thought.
Some subspecies were believed to be able to shift into the form of naughty children and sneak into nearby villages to prey on young humans.
It was the last thing his eyes ran over before he slipped the laptop shut. He crawled to the bed, wishing more than anything that his mind would cut him a break, before sliding under the sheets: seeking respite from the crisp autumn Washington
-
"Rise and shine, Sammy."
The hangers reeled noisily against the rod where Dean had ripped open the curtains and the stark light brought Sam to gasping consciousness.
Sam pulled the pillow up over his face, grumbling into it.
He made out the sound of Dean setting a coffee mug on the side table.
"What time did you get to sleep?"
Answered by another indiscernible whine, Dean sunk into the chair at the tiny table in the room. "Fine, fine ... but did you find anything helpful? Besides fairy porn probably."
It earned him a well-aimed smack in the face with a pillow.
Dean laughed jovially, "Okay, okay."
Sam rose up into a sitting position with a moan. He ran a hand over his face, the other grappling for the already cooling coffee mug on the table.
"Goblins." He muttered around the rim.
Dean paused his own sip, face falling into incredulity.
"Did you just say "goblins"?"
Sam nodded. He didn't elaborate.
"Listen, I know it's a conversation you probably don't wanna have ... but are you sure we're ruling out your little garden fairy from this equation? I mean, it really doesn't look good for her--"
"You're right. I don't want to have this conversation."
Dean shrugged. He fiddled with the coffee mug against his hand.
"It's not her." Sam added quietly.
Nodding slowly, Dean watched his brother with tentative eyes. "Have you thought about that? What you're gonna do?"
Sam rose from the bed, stripping off his shirt. "I don't know man. I don't even think she knows."
It had been a thought that occurred to him at some point in the previous night, that you didn't know. That it was probably selfish to keep it to himself.
"Right, well anyway," Dean reached into the tupperware you'd gifted them the previous afternoon. He'd already cleared out his own and was starting on a pastry from Sam's box. "I was thinking we should go speak to the third vic's mom. Kelly Williams. We haven't spoken to them yet and maybe they can tell us more."
Sam nodded. "Sure. You got an address?"
"No, but she's working a stall at..." Dean picked up a leaflet from the table that Sam assumed he'd found on his coffee run before he was up, "The Fernglade Sunday Market. We can find her there."
"Fine."
He disappeared into the bathroom, Dean heard the shower turn on.
"And you can tell me about this goblins story on the way there!" He called after him.
The door slammed shut.
-
"So you think goblins are coming into town and stealing kids out their back yards?"
The morning was warm and the market made it more so. It was out on a farm a couple roads down from the boys' motel.
There were little set-up stalls as far as he could see over lush green grass, selling cakes and jewellery and home-made soaps. Couples strolled hand-in-hand and children chased their parent's ankles.
Sam shrugged. "I mean yeah, it makes sense. Dad mentioned about the trees, Y/n mentioned about the forest too."
Dean nodded, his eyes rolling over the scenery. "Sure, but goblins? I've never heard of that anywhere, I mean, how do you even kill it?"
"Them." Sam corrected. "They live in groups."
Dean sighed. "Well that's gonna be fun."
Somewhere down the row, a man was singing behind a set up microphone with a guitar in his lap. A small crowd had formed to watch him.
Sam's stomach had begun churning with that feeling that made his organs feel like jelly again. He shrugged against the collar of his shirt.
"Right, well, there's Kelly Williams' stall." Dean glanced again down at the pamphlet, "Rings and Things ... how creative--"
But Sam's eyes had found on another stall. One further down from Kelly Williams', a little set-up of vases and stain glass sculptures. Rather ... they found the woman standing in front of it.
Of course it was you.
Standing against the breeze in another, unsurprisingly, light green dress. It was ruffled and shimmering and glittery and short. It made Sam's airways tighten to a shut.
You seemed intent on avoiding wearing anything that draped any further than just over the curve of your ass, and Sam prayed to anyone listening that it would stay that way.
"Sammy?"
Dean's face shrunk in confusion, he followed his brother's line of sight. He began to laugh, clearly finding you, and jostled Sam with a hand on his shoulder. "Well, isn't this just your luck."
Sam was sucking in deep breaths again. Dean shoved him in the side.
"Go talk to her, I'll speak to Mrs Williams."
Jumping back into semi-consciousness, Sam shook his head, "No, no, it's fine. We'll go--"
"Stop being a baby, Sam." Dean shrugged him off. "You're gonna have to talk to her eventually. And I hope you do a better job than you did yesterday, because that was a train-wreck."
"Thanks."
But Dean's figure was already retreating.
"Asshole." Sam muttered under his breath.
Eyes found you again, they strained against the sunlight. He could make out your face from where he stood: it was twisting, falling into a creased brow that Sam didn't like the look of.
His legs began moving before he had chance to instruct them and it only took a couple paces of his long structure to find your side, heart thumping violently in his ears.
Your eyes lifted from the table, there was an elderly lady sitting in the shade of the cover and looking unimpressed.
"Sam." You smiled up at him and he swore in that second he could listen to you saying his name forever on repeat and never grow bored. "What a pleasant surprise."
"Hey." He sighed, it was louder than he anticipated and he could feel his cheeks growing warmer. "W-What are you doing here?"
You stuttered, "Well, I was just looking at this cute little crocodile--"
His eyes found where your hand was motioning over the woman's table. He was unsurprised to find it littered with stained-glass sculptures of animals. Lions and fish and elephants among others.
But the woman interrupted before you could find the end of your sentence.
"I don't sell to kidnappers."
Her elderly face was curled up in disgust. Sam was taken aback by her directness.
He was more taken aback by your polite smile at her.
"That's fine. I'll be on my way." You nodded kindly, looking back up to Sam. "Wanna take a walk?"
Sam's bones had begun aching with fury in the small seconds since he'd arrived. His brow-bone was heavy set against his eyes.
He glanced over at the crocodile you'd referenced. It was about the size of a shoebox, glassy in bottle green tones and grinning a mouthful of sharp teeth up at him. He could already see it sitting happily on a spot between your books and photo frames, maybe up on the mantle above your fireplace.
Brushing softly against your elbow with his hand, a movement that sent a stone cold shiver up his whole body, he shook his head. "Just one sec--"
He turned to the woman, sticking his finger in the direction of the lifeless creature.
"I'd like to buy that crocodile please."
"Oh, Sam, you don't have to--"
But the woman was unmoved, "No. I'm not selling anything to anyone associated with her."
She stuck a shaking finger in your direction and Sam suddenly wanted to rip the stall to pieces.
"We should just go..." Your voice was small and he fought hard against pulling your frame into his side.
Instead, he reached into his jacket pocket for his FBI identification: flipping it out into the daylight for the woman to see. Her eyes widened behind thinly framed spectacles.
"I said I'd like to buy that crocodile." His voice was stern, heavy laden with his trembling aggravation. "How much is it?"
The woman's face flickered between emotions, before settling on vexation. "Forty dollars." She mumbled.
"I'm sorry?"
"Forty dollars." She replied more clearly, face turning red in embarrassment.
Sam slipped away his badge and dug for his wallet in his pocket, he flipped between the notes and handed her two twenty dollar bills. The woman was quiet while she wrapped the creature, avoiding your and Sam's eyes in the process.
She handed it over with a scathing, "Get away from my stall."
"With pleasure." He turned to you, your face was a cherry red shade. "I'll take you up on that walk."
You stepped away, offering a small sheepish "thanks" to the woman scowling at your and Sam's retreating figures.
"Here." He handed you the crocodile gently, and you took it with tentative hands. "Get a lot of that?"
But you shrugged off his question, grabbing for your purse. "You really didn't need to do this, Sam. Let me just pay you--"
Sam stopped, taking your forearm into his hand - the tingle it sent up his body again didn't go amiss - and he huffed. "Please, please. Don't. It's a gift."
The sun was shining off your dress and it made your face seem lighter. "Sam, really, I can't ask you to--"
"Please?"
You paused, lashes blinking carefully up at him and god he could really kiss you right there--
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
Smiling again, easing the tightness in Sam's chest, you nodded. "Fine."
You held the crocodile up to your face, "What are we gonna name him?"
"We?" Sam laughed and you laughed back at him.
"Sure, he's ours now." You tucked it under your arm again.
Ours. He was fragmentally taken away with the thought of something belonging to them, to us. A house, a couch, a dog (or a fox if that's what you wanted)--
"Anyways, where's the other one?"
Sam was brought back to the conversation.
"Oh, uh, Dean?" his eyes grazed over the stalls, pointing over to where Dean was talking with the tall Kelly Williams behind a tray of seashell necklaces. "Talking to one of the victims."
"Right, I almost forgot." You fiddled with your bag over your shoulder. "He decided whether he's killing me yet?"
His mouth tilted teasingly. "What makes you think that I've decided I'm not here to kill you?"
You shrugged, teeth flashing in a gut-wrenchingly beautiful smile. "Well, you bought me this, and ... you don't seem the type."
"The type?"
"Nah, you're too sweet on me already."
Sam's stomach did a somersault in his chest. "I--"
"Besides, you couldn't do it here. Too much blood, too many witnesses ..."
Sam's hair flicked over his shoulder where he tossed his head back to laugh. "Right. You've thought about the logistics already."
"Sure have." You nodded. "Any headway on the kids?"
"Some." He shrugged. "There's this fairy--"
"Dryad."
"--living in this petting zoo in this cottage on the outskirts of town..."
"Fine." You conceded. "I won't ask."
"No, but we have--"
"Ah, look at you two. Getting along like a house on fire."
Sam hadn't noticed his brother's approaching footsteps. Dean clapped a jolly hand over his brother's arm.
You smiled in greeting. "Good morning Dean."
He nodded. "'Morning Tinkerbell."
"Dean."
Chuckling you nodded. "Good one. Haven't heard that before."
The sun was hot on Sam's shoulders, Dean was making it hotter with his conspicuous side eye.
"What's that you got there?" He motioned over the figure under your arm.
You lifted it up proudly, "It's my crocodile. Sam got it for me. The lady wouldn't sell it to me."
"Oh, Sam got it for you, huh?" Dean smirked, relishing in the admission.
"Yep."
The glitter in your eye was making Sam's knees buckle.
"W-We should get going ..." He shifted from his one leg to the other. "Work to do ... and stuff."
"Right," you agreed, fixing the strap over your shoulder again. "I should also head home, not very welcome 'round here anyways."
Confusion glazed briefly over Dean's face but he said nothing on it.
"Yeah, stuff to do." He nodded.
You began your walk past them, finding Sam's gaze. "Thanks again, Sam. I'll see you boys around."
His eyes followed you where your crystals were clinking around your neck. "Yeah. No problem."
Barely out of your earshot, Dean turned to Sam. "A crocodile, huh?"
"Shut up."
-
It wasn't another two days before Sam saw you again.
The boys dove head first back into research, Mrs Kelly Washington hadn't much more to add beyond the fact that she heard another child's voice in the moments before her daughter's disappearance.
"I mean, there was some mention in the lore about goblins being able to turn into kids. Naughty ones at that."
Dean sighed over his bar-top lunch. He took another swig of beer.
"Okay, so what, these ... goblins are coming into town as children and grabbing the kids from their yards? Maybe they'd met somewhere before then, at school or the park?"
Sam shifted the salad around his plate, bored. "Yeah, maybe."
There was a depressingly thin amount of information in John's journal on goblins and the website lore was too broad to even begin sifting through it before another child was taken.
"Well we know that eight kids are taken each time, right?"
Nodding, Sam took an unenthusiastic bite of tomato.
"That means there's still two kids to be taken. I mean, there's only been six victims and autumn is two weeks away from ending, if the story is true that they hunt before winter."
The boy's didn't have to wait long. They were less than an hour clear of the dilapidated bar they'd stopped in for lunch when the call came over the police monitor in the car.
"Units, this is dispatch. We have a suspected 134 at 98 Calvary, requesting assistance."
Code 134. Kidnapping.
Dean found Sam's eye across the front seat before taking a screeching turn into the next street.
Cavalry road was just a few streets down and the scene was as they'd expected. Burning red and blue cop cars littered the street and Dean pulled the Impala into a space between them.
There was a scuffle of officers, in the corner of the driveway a man holding a sobbing woman to his chest. The parents.
Dean and Sam flashed their badges at the nearest deputy.
"What's the situation?"
The officer huffed, tightening his grip on either side of his belt. "We think the kid was taken, Frankie Moore. Disappeared about two hours ago, the parents only called in the last twenty minutes. They thought he'd just run off."
Dean nodded and Sam watched over the scene around him.
"Any witnesses?"
The cop shook his head, Taylor, his badge read. "None. Right out the backyard, just like the others."
"Did the parents see anything, hear anything?" Sam pressed.
"Not from what we can gather from them right now, they're pretty out of shape." Taylor motioned back to where the Mrs Moore was desperately pushing out sentencing between racking sobs. "But we've got a suspect, they're out fetching them right now."
Dean glanced over the officer, "A suspect?"
Sam's hands were starting to itch. He twisted them against his the cuffs of his sleeve.
"Yeah, neighbour saw them out in the forest about an hour ago. Called it into dispatch. They never took it seriously until this call came in."
Somewhere behind them a short siren yelped from one of the cars.
"Did they have the kid or what?" Dean's face was laden with confusion, the story twisting around his brain.
"No, but they've been taken in on suspicion. Talk of the town and such." Taylor responded and Sam's heart sunk to his knees.
There was a click over the officer's radio. "Suspect is in custody."
He pulled it closer to his mouth, "Copy that."
Sam tugged up on the end of his sleeve, revealing his wrists in the afternoon light. They were turning a pinkish red. Handcuffs.
"Dean."
Dean's back stiffened at his brother's tone, eyes finding his wrists. He sighed. "You've got to be kidding me."
Sam's brain was turning muddy. "The suspect, is she a woman?"
Taylor nodded. "As far as I know, yes."
-
There was nothing else said.
Sam fled the scene as if the perpetrator himself. He flew into the passenger's seat with the force of an attacking bear.
Dean chased after him, slotting the key into the ignition: setting the car alight.
"Sam, I know what you're thinking--"
Houses flew past the car, streets and pedestrians, but Sam had no space to consider them.
"You don't know what I'm thinking."
But Dean was persistent, knuckles white around the wheel. "She's your ... your soulmate, I get that, but our leads are thin. Have you considered that she could really be doing this?"
The station came into view at the end of the road. Lights from the cars were flashing in Sam's eyes. His head spun.
"She's not a monster, Dean."
"But she is, Sam! She is! She's not a human."
Dean pushed down on the brake in front of the sheriff's station and Sam was out the car before it had fully pulled to a stop.
He threw the doors open. Officers were flocking around like seagulls over an abandoned hot dog.
Sam grabbed the arm of the nearest one, firm in his grip.
"The suspect, where is she?"
"Uh, they've just moved her to--"
The doors swung open again behind him and the rumbling of the station was overpowered by a loud low whine. It was followed by an equally distressed yelp.
Sam turned to find a row of officers, leading one after the other like ducks, each with a rattling metal cage of a different animal. Your animals.
Goose was yipping wildly in the confines of the box. A woman holding Lydia followed him. They come in procession: the rabbits, the ferrets, the ducks, the budgies.
"What the fuck!" An officer close to the door jumped out the way where Lydia hissed angrily at him from between the bars.
"No, please!"
Sam spun on his heel. His hands felt heavy with helplessness. It was your voice, echoing across the station and reverberating in his brain.
"Please, just leave them! They're not gonna hurt anyone. I haven't done anything--"
His feet chased after the sound. Sam found a long corridor near the back of the room, there were two officers tugging on either of your arms. Your eyes were bouncing wildly between each of the officers where they disappeared into the evidence room with your pets.
Your gaze found his own. "Sam!"
"Y/n." He was bounding down the corridor, long stretches of leg, but the officers were adamant in their grip.
"Sam, I promise I didn't-- it wasn't me. I swear--"
There was a loud huff and a heave and you stumbled backwards into a closed holding cell. Your hands wrapped between the bars.
"I know," Sam was breathless. "I know you didn't--"
Suddenly there was hands on his chest. "Sir, you need to get out of here."
"I need to speak with her--"
"Sir you can't do that. You need to speak to the sheriff."
Sam's chest was rumbling with a frenzied desperation. He couldn't pull his eyes off the fragments of your figure behind the bars.
The officers shoved him again. "Sir--"
He ripped himself off their grip, hair flushed back against his reddening face and he turned back down the corridor.
Dean was already at the sheriff's desk.
"--suspicious behaviour--"
"What the hell is going on?" Sam's voice rumbled across the room. "On what basis are you holding her?"
The sheriff was a small man and he looked smaller under Sam's furious stature.
"It's like I was telling your partner here, agent," He was patting a handkerchief over his balding head. "Y/n Y/l/n is being held on the basis of suspicious activity."
"What exactly is your definition of suspicious activity?"
The sheriff shrugged, "Well we got a call in of her roaming around the forest--"
Sam could feel his fists tightening at his sides, "What are people not allowed to go into the forest in this town or does that make them all kidnappers? You have no evidence--"
"Sammy, calm down." Dean's hand found Sam's chest but he shrugged him off.
"Release her. Right now."
But the sheriff shook his head. "Unfortunately, not even FBI have the power to do that. State's laws say she can be detained for 12 hours pending investigative procedures."
"Investigative procedures--?"
By then, Dean had him by the arm. "Okay, okay. Let's go cool off--"
He tugged Sam towards the door, surprising both himself and Dean by allowing him to do so successfully.
The cool dusk air rushed over his face. Sam took a deep breath.
"They have no evidence, Dean--"
"I get that, but you need to calm down. You're not helping the situation by threatening the sheriff."
An officer passed them with another cage. Three hedgehogs.
Sam ran a hand over his face. He took a deep breath.
"You don't even believe she's innocent, Dean."
There was quiet for a long moment.
Sam fell into a bench bolted against the side of the building. His hands found his face again. After a moment, Dean crouched into the spot beside him.
"Look." He sighed. "If you believe her, I believe you. Alright?"
Sam's eyes were watching his shoes. He nodded, only half believing his brother's claim.
They sat like that for nearly an hour with evening settling over Fernglade around them and the autumn crisp seeping into their suits.
After a long resounding silence, one that had stretched on past Dean's wide yawn, Dean rose to his feet.
"Sammy, we should go home. Get some headway on this goblins angle."
At that, Sam shook his head. "I'm gonna stay."
"What, until she's out?"
"Yeah."
Dean's eyes were dripping in pity and it made Sam's blood boil.
"That's--" he raised his watch into his eyeline, "She's still got another ten hours. It's only six o' clock now."
Sam nodded. "Yeah."
"Sam--"
"Dean."
Another cold silence.
Sam pressed his hair back with a wide hand, conceding. "Look, I'm sorry. But I'm gonna stay. You head back to the motel, do some work and get some sleep. I'll be fine."
Dean considered him, but he made no further argument and Sam thought momentarily it was maybe because he knew he couldn't budge him in the same argument with Cas.
"Alright. Fine." Dean nodded, tugging his jacket closer against the cold. "I'll see you in the morning."
Sam watched his brother's retreating figure all the way until the Impala had disappeared down the next street before going to stand.
The doors swung open with a whine, the station had cooled to a quieter buzz than when he'd first burst in. The sheriff had disappeared into an office off in the corner of the room.
Finding the nearest officer, Johnson, behind a short wooden desk, Sam approached him.
Officer Johnson glanced warily up at him from the papers he'd been filling out. He'd probably been witness to his first outburst.
"Uhm," Sam cooled his voice to a deferential timber. "The animals at the back, what's gonna happen to them?"
The officer set his pen down, "Well I'm doing the paperwork on them now. They'll be released if and when she does."
"If?"
He shrugged, "Yeah, if they don't find anything they'll let her go. Only got twelve hours."
Sam shifted his weight, running his eyes over the station. Somehow it was colder inside than the bench he'd just abandoned.
"Right."
The image returned to him again of your tiny green dress, the satin sleeves that reached down over your arms - he wondered for a moment if you wore them to cover all his scars - and the shiny ends that left your legs a prize for the bite of the freezing air that nipped at him even through all his layers.
He dug his hands into his coat pocket, pulling out his badge and his wallet and his phone to slip them into his pant pockets. Then he shrugged out the jacket.
Sam held it out to the officer. "Would you mind giving this to her?"
The officer took it with tentative hands, he gave it a glance over but made no move to stand.
"There's nothing in it." Sam huffed. "It's freezing in here, and unless you want her to die of hypothermia before morning, I suggest you do what I've asked."
He was considering it, Sam could tell by how his eyes flickered over the office door behind which the sheriff was hiding, but eventually elected to stand.
"Fine."
-
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