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trashogram · 2 months

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He Chose You (Pt. 9)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated Explicit.

Warning: Character Death, and minor details of childbirth.

“You’re glowing!”

You’d scoffed while watching as your body literally began to illuminate from the inside out.

“Well of course.” You’d snickered, looking from your hands to Lucifer. “Every mother does.”

Your hand came up to clasp your mouth shut, but the Freudian slip was already out there. Lucifer stared at you and you stared back.

Your lips wobbled and torso trembled until you could no longer hold it in and burst into laughter. Elation ran its course, and Lucifer joined you — laughing so hard that he slapped his knee.

When you fell into his arms and let yourself be held, you imagined it would only be for a little while. This bizarro pregnancy had you on some kind of high, and all the worries and doubts that had been building up disappeared.

—

You can’t remember for how long you’ve been walking but there’s discomfort in the soles of your feet. The landscape changes as soon as you truly behold it.

The endless field of tall grass and the trees so tall they could touch the sky had been replaced by golden sand. You could feel its gentle heat on the ends of your toes. Beyond the sand is a gently rolling ocean, lilac beneath a honey gold sky as the sun has only just set. The sound of rhythmic, rushing water is so real and so close that you’re immediately calm.

Memories flood your mind like a sneaker wave. You’re a child again, running away from the water as it laps at you. The shock of the cold water goes away quickly and you want to follow the pebbles and seashells that drift back out with the retreating tide.

You look back, away from the sea, and see the blonde woman behind you. You grin.

She’s wistful.

It stamps down on your joy. The air is salty and wet blowing through your hair and inhaled through your nostrils. You want to speak, but you can’t think of a thing to say.

“I wish this was goodbye.” Her voice carries above the waves, muffling them until they’re nothing but a dull roar.

—

You awoke to the sensation of falling and seized in your bed. Lucifer startled beside you. He’d been sleeping wrapped around your belly; a compromise to laying perpendicular to you so that he could continue talking to the soccer-player in your stomach.

He or she had not stopped moving since they decided to make it known that they were, in fact, not dead.

(You’d chided the baby for that, and for doubling in size in less than two week’s time, much to Lou’s amazement:

“Hell isn’t ready to be ruled by two speed demons.” You’d deadpanned.)

“Huh?” He grabbed you without thought. “What—”

Movement erupted from deep down in your core, muscles clenching and unclenching quickly, forcing you to seize again.

“I think I’m — ugh!” You gritted your teeth. “—I’m going into labor.”

Lucifer doesn’t do anything for a long moment.

Then he flew into a panic before you could say ‘Jesus Christ!’.

—

The hallway outside illuminated with the sheer brilliance of your body, literally glowing. It hadn’t stopped since it started, only a few weeks ago. Fortunately, the glow was tied to an almost paralyzing euphoria. It was the kind of delight that turned your blood into gold while racing through your body. The kind that kept you from complaining that you’d become Tinkerbell.

“Steady. I’ve got you!” Lucifer assured whilst trudging over the carpet with you in his arms.

An influx of pain rippled through you for the first time, providing distraction from the mortification you might’ve felt in that position. It hasn’t escaped your notice that the Prince of Darkness was a shortstack. Your brain had a hard time accepting that for as small as he appeared, Lucifer was capable of unimaginable feats of strength and endurance.

So, you didn’t think about it. Instead you focused on breathing in and out deeply as your partner kicked at the front door of your neighbors’ apartment with the toe of his boot.

As if waiting at the door, Warren Farrow appeared from behind the polished wood. His expression was of minute surprise, but within seconds he was turning back and calling for his wife.

Lucifer managed to pivot the two of you into the Farrow home. Warren guided you with an unusual vigor in his step, as though he were a man decades younger.

“We’ve had it set up for weeks now, Sir.” Warren said gravely.

Through the convulsions, you observed the inlet that Lucifer had taken you into. It was like a roomy closet, covered in tapestries and littered with candles of all shapes and colors.

Warren’s wife was flitting about, quickly lighting the pitch-black surroundings until you could see the mere outline of things.

You were drawn to the center of the crowded room, where a humble white cot covered in white towels contrasted everything else.

It occurred to you then that this entire pregnancy had been a shit show, not the least bit because you’d never gone to any OB. You hadn’t checked in with any hospital, or stepped foot in one — how could you?

Therefore, any and all “check-ups” you’d had had come from your creepy neighbors with their tea and their scrutinizing questions and their buzzard-like stares.

You’d consoled yourself throughout with the brief, semi-serious talk with Mrs. Farrow three months into gestation.

“What? Were you a midwife or something?” You asked incredulously.

“Yes, honey.” Cass had patted your hand like you were a simpleton. “I helped deliver babies for over 15 years. I was younger than you were when I first started!”

You had stared. ‘Oh god, how many crazy cultists are actually nurses in disguise?’

“Here we go, all set. You can lay her down here.” Cassie came over brusquely, smoothing over the wrinkles in the cot before Lucifer put you down.

He laid you on the sheets, light as a feather, jarring as you felt your belly weigh you down. The King didn’t go far, reluctant to let go of your hand. You held on like a vice as well, gripping and squeezing with each contraction.

You felt pinches in and around your abdomen, but the pain was… off. It came not from true agony, but the overworking of your internal organs in contrast to the pleasantness that you embodied post-glow stick phase.

Hearing childbirth horror stories all your life, and just the horrors of raising children in general, you expected to be screaming and thrashing.

This wasn’t as bad as some of your past periods had been. What’s worse than that, however, is the unnecessary guilt you feel for how troublesome it isn’t.

—

Lucifer struggled to remain in one spot as the urge to pace up and down the cramped little birthing room ate at him.

He didn’t want to leave you — not that his two hosts would dare make him, regardless of tradition — but old habits die hard. He was fidgeting, putting all his weight on one foot then the other.

You were his exact opposite, laying placid and relaxed on the birthing bed, eyeing the little room. Microexpressions flitted across your face, some of confusion and some of hurt, but aside from your firm grasp on his hand, and the occasional grunt, you may as well have been dozing off.

Eventually you glanced at him.

“Do you wanna sit down?” You asked calmly.

Lucifer tried to laugh but it came out like a strangled wheeze. “Nahhh, this is fine. I’m fine. Are you fine? I mean I know you’re not fine, but can I do something? Whatever you need, I can get it for you!”

His rambling ends with you bopping him between the eyes teasingly. “You’re silly.”

It’s inexplicable, but Lucifer’s mood lightened at your mellow admonishment. He meets your warm, drowsy expression with an adoring smile of his own.

“I am.” He kissed your forehead. “You’re an angel to put up with it.”

A too-loud rasp interrupted the soft moment of nothing but affection and kisses. Cass was standing at the foot of your cot, hands on each of your knees as she kept your legs apart.

“Get ready, honey. You’re on your way.” She hailed.

–

A cry split through the air and it went straight to your heart.

You gulp down air (Lucifer mimicking you without meaning to) with sweat pouring from your hairline. The lack of pain hadn’t meant a lack of effort, and you still felt like you’d run a marathon just to pass the little being currently wailing in Mrs. Farrow’s arms.

“It’s a girl.” Mrs. Farrow declared.

There was no attempt to hide the sidelong glance she gave Mr. Farrow. The lines and grooves on the elderly man’s face deepened until he resembled a gnarled tree trunk.

“Hmm.” Was his reply, deep baritone rolling like thunder in the tiny room.

Vehement indignance blazed to life inside your mind when the old man looked at you, critical and disappointed. You felt like tearing him and the rest of this old, tacky room to shreds. Yet, exhaustion had planted its roots deep inside of you, and all you could do was glare at the old couple from your makeshift bed.

‘Why does it fucking matter?’

“Gimme my kid.” You growled.

As if to piss you off further, Cass ignored you in favor of wiping the baby clean before passing her off to Lucifer. The old bat presented her to the King like she was a fallen bannerman’s sword, even curtsying while doing it.

It was so weird that it brought you out of your anger for a second.

Lucifer was clearly apprehensive, and his insecurity made the grand gesture stranger. He swallowed visibly, making eye contact with you when he couldn’t break away from the internal turmoil he was struggling with.

“Bring her to me.” You demanded. Lucifer nodded vigorously, cocking a head toward you.

It was fucking nonsensical, but at last Cass obeyed and brought you a bundle wrapped in silky black.

The baby’s wailing tapered off as soon as she’d made contact with you. And like a child on Christmas morning, you shifted to sit up as much as you could and pry open the swaddling cloth.

You sniffled.

All at once, the breath caught in your throat and your eyes welled up with tears.

The newborn was as flagrant as her father in terms of skin tone and hair. She hadn’t yet opened her eyes but already you could see none other than a spitting image of Lucifer himself. Right down to the rosy apple cheeks that made up her pudgy little face.

You were a little surprised to see that she had a nose. A little black smudge, puppy-like - anomalous like the little growths on her forehead and the itty bitty spade on the tip of her wagging tail.

She was perfect.

“I think she’s a Charlotte.” You manage to tear your eyes away from the miraculous hellspawn in your arms just long enough to search Lucifer’s golden gaze. “What do you think?”

His Majesty is a whimpering mess beside you. “Y-yeah. That’s perfect.”

Peeling the blanket back just that much more, you lean toward him. It takes a little coaxing, but sure enough Lucifer traces a delicate claw over the child’s tiny brow.

“Hello Charlotte.” He whispered. “We’re so happy you’re here.”

Adoration overwhelmed you, nigh on visible like the air was tinged with its color, its scent, its warmth cocooning the three of you.

Daddy, Mommy and baby. A strange but happy little family.

Lou embraced the two of you, hiding his face, and subsequent weeping, in the side of your neck while your baby cooed.

The background chants of ‘Hail Princess Charlotte’ and ‘Hail King Lucifer’ were, thankfully, not enough to ruin the moment.

Nothing could. Until.

It doesn’t dawn on you that anything is wrong when the glow has faded. It’s only the incidental look at your fingers, with Charlotte’s tail curled around them, that freezes you. Numbness then began to crawl up your body, as if waiting for the moment that you’re brain would connect the dots. The copper scent of blood made your nostrils flare and heart hammer.

Fear clutched at you in an instant. “Take her. Take the baby.”

Your desperate hiss and barely-there shuffle to push Charlotte into Lucifer’s arms fully had his face falling.

“W-wai-wh-What’s happening?” He asked, panic rising.

Mrs. Farrow is prompt, crone’s face scrunched and nose prominent as if she could sniff out the issue. She’s stood at the end of the bed, already lifting the sheets off your body before you can seek her out.

A stiff hand appears over the covers, covered in shiny dark claret. “She’s bleedin’ too much.”

Lucifer’s eyes blazed from where he hovered. “Why?”

The elderly woman was ready to shrug, but she stalled. Perhaps out of fear. “It happens, your Grace. Birthing a baby takes a toll on the mother, sometimes it’s too much.”

“Then why are you just standing there?”Lucifer bared his fangs, ivory in the lowlight. His eyes were a haze of vermillion, so opaque that you couldn’t find his pupils or the soul inside. “Help her!”

The truly demonic scrape of his vocal chords frightened you, as did the sudden appearance of tusk-like horns protruding from his skull and the fire coming to life between them. His beautiful skin marred and stretched and cracked as if his form were a prison barely containing the true beast within.

Energy crackled in the air, heat rising to blow back your hair and dry the air from your lungs like a flung-open kiln. The breath was stolen from your lungs as ivory wings shot out and overtook what little space was left in the alcove.

Reality was literally distorting around Lucifer’s warped rage.

Mr. Farrow, for all his reticence, reached for his wife’s shoulder from within your line of sight.

“Lucifer.” You hissed, bearing the brunt of his inhuman stare when he turned to you. It took real energy to speak. “I need you… the baby…”

It didn’t take anymore prodding for the blond to intercept your daughter once your desperation got through to him. The Devil slowly shifted back, revealing the depth of his fear in the cloudless turn of his gaze. He met you halfway - finally - and pulled Charlotte close to his chest.

A pang of thankfulness made laughter bubble up from your diaphragm. It hurt. Everything hurt again.

“Stop. Wait.” Lucifer begged, voice turned to ice. Fragile, cracking. His natural white glow had dimmed significantly like a cooling star. “This isn’t— I promised you this wouldn’t happen! This can’t happen!”

A shudder ran through you.

“Hey.” You lifted a hand and placed it on his pale cheek, thumb brushing over where white met red. “Nothing… for it now.”

“No, don’t, that’s… No.” His agony was so palpable, as his fury had been.

“You’re gonna be a great dad.” You murmured.

Lucifer bowed over the side of the bed with Charlotte snug against him. You could feel the warmth of his breath, and then the splash of his tears against your cheek as he broke down. You felt it deep in your bones, and the lump in your throat that choked you.

“Not without you.” He said. “I can’t do this without you.”

A pained smile was your response. Vision a-blur. Cotton tongue.

“You… will.”

Lucifer shook his head fiercely. “I promised you. I swore I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. I can’t… I can’t...”

“Please. Please don’t — ” Anguish turned Lucifer’s once melodic voice into broken notes. “Don’t leave us. Please, please, please.”

His sobs intermingled with Charlotte’s whimpering. She fussed as she was woken from her doze by the growing, tangible urgency. You wished you could calm both of them. Take them in your arms and make it all go away, promise that you weren’t going anywhere.

“Please. Please. Please.” The word fell from the Devil’s mouth like a prayer.

You wondered if he really was praying. Praying to his Father.

It broke your heart.

The candlelight around you was getting brighter as the rest of your surroundings grew dark. Lucifer, as brilliant as he was, lingered somewhere in between. You squinted when his features began to fuse together in your mind. It did little to help, as large, dark shadows blotted out the corners of your sight.

Charlotte was bawling and you fought to open your eyes again. You hadn’t realized they’d closed.

You were so tired. The will to rise up and comfort your baby was dwindling. Everything had succumbed to a thin stream of light in a sea of darkness.

With a breath, and another Herculean effort, you opened your eyes again.

White blinded you.

And then you were nothing.

***

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#lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer

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mediumgayitalian · 3 months

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Nico wakes up with a mouthful of hair.

“Are you serious.”

He sticks out his tongue, trying to get it out of his mouth without spitting on it, giving up after about four point three seconds of trying. He wriggles his arm out from where it’s pinned between his body and Will’s, flicking the last few strands off his tongue. For good measure, he kicks the first thing he can reach — his boyfriend’s thighs, go figure — in protest.

“Please, no,” Will mumbles tiredly, batting blindly under the cover until he slaps on big hand over Nico’s ankle, squeezing. “Please. I got in at three thirty last night. It’s barely seven. Please.”

Nico sighs, relaxing his muscles. Will presses a brief kiss to his shoulder in gratitude, face buried in his chest, sinking boneless into him.

“The whole knowing the time without a clock thing will never stop being weird,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to a freckled forehead. He rubs his hands over Will’s bare shoulders, digging his thumbs along the knotted muscles, and smiles as he groans, trying in vain to plaster somehow closer to Nico, practically melting into him. “Gracie keep you up all night?”

He shifts as he nods. “Harley, too. Poor things just want someone to hold their hair outta their face and rub their back, they’re so miserable.”

Nico hums in sympathy. It’s flu season — hitting the little kids, mostly. Will has been on his feet for days trying to mitigate symptoms, soothe aching bones and sore throats. There’s not too much he can do for the flu, but the kids are miserable and they trust him, so his presence is more of a cure and a comfort than anything.

“Kayla there now?”

“Austin and Lou. Kayla’s on after lunch; Piper’s with her.”

“Good.” He squeezes his shoulders again, leaning down to press a long, lingering kiss right between his eyes. He leans into it, sighing. “Sleep for a bit, okay? I’ll come check on you, but I don’t want you up before 2.”

“‘Kay,” Will sighs, unconscious again by the time Nico’s wiggled out of his hold. For a moment he stands, watching him: his bare, broad back, spattered with dark freckles and moles, dipping at the base of his spine and covered barely by the soft, white sheets; arms curled up all the way around his face in Nico’s absence, bicep squeezing his cheek, pursing his delicate Cupid’s bow; long, light eyelashes fanning over round cheeks; even, steady breathing, in and out, in and out.

Golden hair, of course, frizzy and messy and poofing out around his head; haloed in the early morning sun.

He’s barely able to tear himself away to go shower.

———

“They’re everywhere,” says Kayla in disgust, peeling a long, curly strand off her shirt. “I haven’t been in the same room as him in two days. This is a brand-new shirt. How am I still somehow covered in his hair?”

“He’s like a dog,” Austin explains. Nico snorts. “He sheds, and at first it’s subtle, here and there, you get used to it. The suddenly two years go by and people are complimenting the fur coat that was not fur before you bought it.”

Gracie sticks out her bottom lip, eyes watering. “Will is not a dog, he’s a boy!”

Austin groans, muttering something about favourites and annoying older brothers and where was this energy when I ate the last secret cabin twinkie and was accused of being a ratbag, huh, Gracie, where was my defense squad and annoying older brothers again. Gracie is unmoved by his whining, glaring at him with big green eyes — ever her oldest brother’s defender.

Nico hides a smile in his hand. No wonder, with how Will dotes on her. On all his siblings, really, but only Yan and Gracie are young enough that it doesn’t embarrass them.

Kayla and Austin, on the other hand. (At this point, Will enjoys embarrassing them in front of their friends as much as the actual doting.)

Kayla, weak to her sister’s pouting, pokes her playfully in the side. “I’m only teasing, Gracie-girl. Of course Will isn’t a dog.”

“Except the shedding, and the constant yapping, and the fact that if you don’t let him loose to run around for a while he goes batty, and of course the following Nico around like a lovesick pup—”

“Thank you, Austin,” Nico interrupts, clearing his throat. He sends a quick prayer of thanks to his father for hair genetics covering his flaming ears.

Austin snickers. “Anytime.”

After three years it’s futile, but sometimes Nico really considers rescinding his doctor’s note. Is sitting here during meals really worth his peace? Is it?

“He really does shed, though,” Kayla says after a moment of silence. She pinched yet another hair off her shirt, sighing. “Like, not to agree with Austin or anything —”

“Hey!”

“— but, like, damn. If he’s been there, you know it.”

Nico snorts. “Tell me about it. I keep finding hair on my pillows, it’s driving me insane.”

It does drive him insane. He finds it in the shower — although to his credit Will really does try to get them all there — and in his hairbrush, on his clothes, his sheets, his mattress. The floor. Once, notably, on the shrine in his cabin, after which Will had panicked and sprinted to the pavilion to scrape an entire pot roast and pray not to get smited, leaving Nico to laugh himself to tears at the base of it.

Too late, he notices the total silence at the Apollo table, the wide eyes boring holes into his head, the loose, dropped jaws.

“What?” he says, shoulders curled defensively.

As soon as the word leaves his mouth, realization dawns on him. He chokes on a grape.

“You two didn’t tell us?” Austin demands. “How long has this —” he gestures vaguely at Nico and at the infirmary, which, he assumes, is meant to represent Will — “been going on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he wheezes. With his rapidly asphyxiating brain, he attempts to summon his boyfriend, still conked out, via sheer force of will. GET THE HELL UP AND COME RUN DAMAGE CONTROL, he screams silently.

Predictably, this does nothing.

Kayla shrieks. “Oh my gods, look at his face! They’ve been doing this forever!”

Nico bangs his hands on the table, trying at once to convey his protest and also hi, hello, children of the god of medicine, I am choking to death, fix please. Neither signal gets picked up, inhabitants of the table erupting an a screeching series of questions so loud that other campers notice, understand, and approach, equally as screechy.

“Will and Nico are together?”

“Holy shit! Since when?”

“I thought they’d never get out of the pining stage!”

“Don’t they hate each other?”

“Bro, are you stupid? Do you not know what bad flirting is?”

“Hey, is di Angelo turning purple, or is that just me?”

Throwing himself into the nearest shadow, Nico disappears.

———

“Get up, get up, I fucked up, I fucked up!”

Will shoots straight upright with a gasp, force of his own body sending him careening right over the side of the bed. He goes down in a tangled heap of cursing and yelping and ow, fuck, shit-damns.

“What happened?” he demands as soon as he’s free from his fabric prison. He rushes (stumbles) over to wear Nico is still wheezing, hands braced on his knees, for dizziness now as much as to catch his breath. “Neeks, woah, slow down for a sec. Deep breaths with me.”

He tries to follow along to Will’s exaggerated breathing, steady, long inhales and exhales. A calloused hand touches the curve of his neck, warmth blooming under it, and suddenly his airways are cleared.

“Thanks,” he manages hoarsely, breathing back somewhat under control.

Will squeezes his hand. “No problem.”

There are several pillow creases criss-crossing on his cheeks, making him look soft and sleepy, although his eyes are alert, crinkled in poorly-concealed amusement. His hair is somehow more mussed than when Nico left him this morning.

“What happened?”

“So I. Um.” Nico clears his throat. “Your bother was roasting you for shedding like a dog. I, of course, had to join —”

Will rolls his eyes, mouth twitching. “Of course.”

“— and I mentioned super casually that I get your hair all over my shit, right? And, well — well.”

“Well?” Will prods, when Nico cuts himself off. Chancing a glance, Nico finds he doesn’t look angry, or nervous, or disappointed — and of course he wouldn’t. Not for something as silly as this.

He is gonna laugh, though. Nico hates when he’s righteously clowned.

“Well, I.” He lowers his voice to a mumble. “May have said something about all of your hair that ends up on my pillows.”

For a moment it’s silent. Nico keeps his eyes trained away, although he leans into Will’s touch, his hands in his face, the side of his neck, the warmth thrown off his sleep-addled body.

He’s almost startled by the giggle.

Almost.

“…Oh, you dumbass.”

He tries very hard to look annoyed as Will cracks up. He taps his foot, crosses his arms, and tries very, very hard to frown, but Will’s laugh has always been the most musical thing about him, and he loves to serenade. And Nico is very weak to song.

“Stop laughing at me,” he snaps, without heat.

Will’s cheeks puff up from the force of him trying, face going red around the edges.

“I’m trying, Neeks, I am —”

“Not very hard.”

“I am, I am.” Valiantly, he draws in a deep breath, only breaking into giggles twice before managing to hold a somewhat straight face. “Nico,” he says, suddenly very close and very warm, “I love you.” He presses a kiss to his forehead. “And I love sneaking around with you —” the bridge of his nose — “and making out in dark closets —” his cheeks, both, quickly, one after the other — “and behind the Big House —” the base of his jaw — “and in the —”

“I get it,” Nico interrupts, flushing. He can feel the curve of Will’s smile against his skin.

“My cabin, if it’s empty,” Will murmurs, kissing the underside of his jaw, his neck. “Yours.” Slight nip of his teeth. Nico gasps.

“Will,” he whispers. His knees start to shake. “Will, c’mon, we gotta —”

Will presses a kiss square to his Adam’s apple, lingering. “We’re in yours quite a lot. I’ve gotten used to it, honestly, Neeks, I —”

The door bangs open, making both of them yelp. The matching screeches to not help the general air of panic and sitcom level foolishness.

“Oh my gods, you really are porking!”

“Get out, Kayla!” they both yell together.

“Jesus,” Will curses, forehead resting on Nico’s shoulder.

Nico bites his lip. Will shifts, turning to meet his eye.

They last two whole seconds before losing it.

“Three years of sneaking around without so much as a soul finding out,” Nico huffs as Will snickers. “Three whole years.”

Will pecks him loudly and exaggeratedly on the cheek. “And endless more in the open.”

“You’re such a goddamn cheeseball.”

“And yet you’re in deep, deep love with me.”

“…I am.” He cradles his face, pressing a kiss, finally, to his lips. Will presses back, smiling. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#i’m sorry i love secret relationship so so much #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #nico di angelo/will solace #nico/will #will/nico #established relationship #secret relationship #fluff and humour #apollo kids #my writing #fic #longpost

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sturniolo-fall-enthusiast · 13 days

Text

Meet the Parents

Request: Hii🩷 can you maybe make like a fic where reader is matt’s girlfriend and friends with the triplets and after like a few months of dating Matt she meets their parents in Boston and she’s like nervous and stuff and they all try to calm her down and their parents and other brother end up loving her

The triplets are going to visit Boston for a little bit and Matt invited his girlfriend of five months, the girl immediately accepting the invitation. The general idea of meeting the rest of Matt's family and seeing where he grew up was amazing at first, but now that they're about to leave, she has nothing but anxiety coursing through her.

"What if your parents totally hate me? What if they think I'm not good enough and you deserve much better?" Y/N rants off any question that comes to mind.

"They won't think that." Matt insists. "I've talked about you countless times and my mom already loves you."

"So your dad might hate me." Y/N says.

"He doesn't hate you either." Matt says. "Stop psyching yourself out, sweetheart. I know you're nervous, but it'll go great. I promise." He kisses her on the forehead.

"We're back!" They hear Nick yell out, the other two triplets having gotten an Uber to go pick up some food for the group, Matt needing to stay and pack.

"Come on." Matt grabs her hands, pulling her to her feet. He leads her out as she continues to wrack with nerves.

"I'm not gonna be able to sleep tonight. I could totally embarrass myself and they'll hate me forever." Y/N whines.

"Baby..." Matt tries.

"What are you talking about?" Chris frowns.

"Y/N's nervous about meeting mom and dad." Matt says. "Despite me assuring her that it'll all be okay."

"They've been looking forward to meeting you." Nick says. "Mom will probably be attached to your hip all day asking questions and gushing over you." He laughs.

"Yeah, they ask about you whenever Matt talks to them." Chris says.

"What about Justin? He could totally hate me. You're his little brother, it may not--"

"Justin will be fine." Chris promises.

"Long as you and Matt are happy, that'll probably be all they need to be happy." Nick says, his brothers nodding in agreement.

"It'll be okay." Matt promises, cupping his girlfriend's face. "And if you're too nervous, I'm right there the whole time. I promise." He pecks her on the lips.

"Can you guys save that for later so we're not throwing up during our meal?" Chris pleads.

"Shut up, Chris." Matt rolls his eyes.

---

They're at the airport in Boston, waiting on the boys' parents. Y/N barely got sleep and has been anxious the whole day, Matt doing his best to calm her nerves by making her focus on things other than meeting his family.

Matt grabs onto Y/N's hand, intertwining their fingers and gently squeezing.

"They'll love you." Matt assures.

"Hey, there they are." Chris points. "Oh, Justin came." He smiles.

Y/N stands back, watching with a soft smile as the boys reunite with their parents and older brother.

Her smile falters for a moment when the attention is turned to her and Matt quickly wraps his arm around her waist, gently squeezing her hip in reassurance.

"Mom, dad, Justin, this is Y/N." Matt introduces, a grin full of love directed to his girlfriend.

"Hi, sweetheart. It's so nice to meet you." Mary Lou immediately greets her with open arms, pulling the girl into a hug.

"Hi." Y/N softly replies, gently hugging the woman back.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N." Jimmy smiles, giving her a quick hug.

"Hey, nice to meet you." Justin gives her a small wave, Y/N returning it with her own wave.

"Nice to meet you guys, too." Y/N smiles.

"Oh, we've heard so much about you. I can't wait to learn more." Mary Lou smiles. "Come on, let's get you guys something to eat and get home."

"Sweet." Chris excitedly whispers at the idea of eating.

"Y/N, what food do you like? We can go out somewhere." Jimmy offers.

"Oh, uh... I-I'm okay with wherever." Y/N smiles.

"She loves Italian food the most." Nick speaks up.

"Ooh, perfect! There's a really good place we all enjoy, you can try it." Mary Lou grins.

"Can't wait." Y/N nervously smiles, reaching for Matt's hand.

"All right, let's go, boys." Mary Lou urges.

"See? Not so bad." Matt quietly says.

"It's only the first five minutes. I could still totally fuck up." Y/N insists.

"You won't. It'll be amazing, promise." Matt tells her, kissing her cheek.

After lunch, Y/N's anxiety had finally started to dwindle after spending time with the triplets' family and being able to converse with the three just as easily as she can with the boys.

#matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo

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usafphantom2 · 5 months

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Legendary Pilot Bob Pardo, Who Pushed A Damaged F-4 With His F-4 Over Vietnam, Has Died

December 20, 2023 Military Aviation

Bob Pardo

Bob Pardo in a 2017 photo by Senior Airman Ridge Shan. In the background, Pardo's Push in an artwork by S.W. Ferguson.

Bob Pardo passed away earlier this month at the age of 89. With his Phantom, he pushed a crippled F-4 outside the enemy airspace in one of the most heroic missions in the history of military aviation, known as “Pardo’s Push”.

“Pardo’s Push” is the name of an incredible maneuver carried out during the Air War over North Vietnam that, over the years, has become the symbol of heroism and a demonstration of courage and contempt for danger.

March 10, 1967.

Captain Bob Pardo is flying in an F-4C with Weapon Systems Officer 1st Lt Steve Wayne. Their wingman is the F-4C flown by Captain Earl Aman with Weapon Systems Officer 1st Lt Robert Houghton. The two Phantoms of the 8th Tactical Fighter Wing, based at Ubon Royal Thai Air Force Base, Thailand, are assigned the task to attack a steel mill in North Vietnam north of the capital Hanoi.

During the approach to the target, both F-4 is hit multiple times by enemy’s anti-aircraft fire. The North Vietnamese flak causes significant damage to Capt. Aman’s aircraft whose fuel tank begins to leak fuel forcing the crew to abort the mission. While hit too, Pardo’s F-4 is able to continue its mission.

On their egress route, at 20,000 feet, Aman and Houghton determine that they do not have enough fuel to reach a tanker or Laos, where they could eject and avoid capture. Although his F-4 is still efficient and has enough fuel to reach a tanker, Pardo decides to remain with his wingman.

At a certain point, while still inside North Vietnamese airspace, Aman’s Phantom flames out. To save Aman and Houghton, Pardo decides to do something he believes no one has ever done before: he attempts to push the other F-4 to Laos.

Initially, Pardo tries to push the other F-4 by gently making contact with the drag chute compartment. However, turbulence interferes with the maneuver and after several failed attempts, Pardo opts for an extreme solution: he instructs Aman to lower his tailhook, then he positions his F-4 behind the other Phantom leaning his windscreen against the tailhook. The contact is made but the “solution” is quite unstable and, as a consequence of turbulence, Pardo needs to reposition his F-4 every 15 to 30 seconds. Nevertheless, the push works and rate of descent of Aman’s Phantom is considerably reduced.

As if the situation was not complicate enough, Pardo’s F-4 suffers an engine fire, forcing him to shut it down.

Try for a second to visualize the situation: a flame-out F-4 is somehow pushed by means of its tailhook by another F-4 powered by a single engine. In enemy airspace. Incredible.

Ezoic

Pardo pushes Aman’s F-4 for another 10 minutes until his Phantom runs out of fuel too. With both planes safely inside Laotian airspace, at an altitude of about 6,000 feet, the aircrews of both F-4s ejects (they will be rescued by SAR helicopters and evade capture).

Although he saved another aircrew, Pardo was initially reprimanded for not saving his own F-4. Until 1989, when the episode was re-examinated and both Pardo and Wayne were awarded the Silver Star.

Retired Air Force pilot Lt. Col. Bob Pardo poses in front of a static display model of an F-4 Phantom II, one of the many fighter aircraft he has flown, at Luke Air Force Base, Ariz., Dec. 12, 2017. (U.S. Air Force photo/Senior Airman Ridge Shan)

Pardo and Aman both continued serving and retired from the U.S. Air Force in the rank of lieutenant colonel. Years later, after learning that Aman had lost his voice and mobility because of Lou Gehrig’s disease, created the Earl Aman Foundation that raised enough money to buy Aman a voice synthesizer, a motorized wheelchair, and a computer. The foundation later contributed to raise funds to pay for a van, which Aman used for transportation until his death. In other words, Pardo never left his wingman behind, not even after retiring.

Ezoic

Noteworthy, as told by John L. Frisbee in his 1996 article for Air Force Magazine, Pardo’s push was not the first time a U.S. pilot pushed another jet out of enemy airspace: in 1952, during the Korean War, fighter ace Robbie Risner pushed his wingman out of North Korea in an F-86. However, pilots were ordered to refrain from attempting the hazardous maneuver again, and the episode had faded from memory and was almost completely unknown within the Air Force by the time Pardo and Wayne pushed Aman and Houghton outside of North Vietnam’s airspace.

Bob Pardo passed away aged 89, on Dec. 5, 2023. His courage and ingenuity, along with the legendary “Pardo’s Push“, will be remembered forever.

About David Cenciotti

David Cenciotti is a journalist based in Rome, Italy. He is the Founder and Editor of “The Aviationist”, one of the world’s most famous and read military aviation blogs. Since 1996, he has written for major worldwide magazines, including Air Forces Monthly, Combat Aircraft, and many others, covering aviation, defense, war, industry, intelligence, crime and cyberwar. He has reported from the U.S., Europe, Australia and Syria, and flown several combat planes with different air forces. He is a former 2nd Lt. of the Italian Air Force, a private pilot and a graduate in Computer Engineering. He has written five books and contributed to many more ones.

@Aviationist via X

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 6 months

Text

.⋆｡You're Gonna Go Far｡⋆.

Batsis!reader

We ain't angry at you, love You're the greatest thing we've lost

Warnings: older sister syndrome, angst, mentions of Jason’s death (seriously Lou not every fic), hurt/comfort, all platonic

Stick Season (We'll All Be Here Forever)

The letter in your hands felt far heavier than the small envelope of papers should have felt. You knew already what it said, what it meant and by god it was tempting to just shove it into your desk drawer and forget about it.

But you couldn’t forget, not when the words inked on those white pages meant that you could finally follow your dreams. Your thumb traced along the emblem at the top right corner of the letter as you read over the excited paragraph of acceptance yet again. It was a spur of the moment thing, a brief lapse into insanity when everything got to be too much and now, the consequences had come.

Could you go? Could you really leave all this behind and do the things you’ve always wanted to do? The seed of hope began to sprout in your chest, slowly weaving through the years of responsibility and obligation you had used to bury it as deep as you could.

But then, you heard muffled arguments through your bedroom door, seeping in like a thick fog. It brushed against your feet, sending a freezing chill through your body. It licked at your fingertips until you couldn’t stand the cold.

Quickly, you shoved the envelope and the letter into the bottom of your trashcan and stood. “What are you fuckheads fighting about this time?” Your siblings responded with more shouting and as you left your bedroom, you doused that little bit of hope with the poison of your duty.

——————

“What did you want to be when you grew up?” The question hung in the stale air for a moment, looming over you as you worked on sharpening Damian’s favourite sword. Your father was sitting at the massive wall of screens, wearing all of his uniform except for the cowl. A pensive look on his face, he seemingly couldn’t meet your eyes.

“A dinosaur cowboy rockstar.” You snipped back. The letter flashed through your mind but disappeared quickly enough with another pull of the blade against the sharpening stone. Bruce’s brow furrowed.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” You sighed heavily through your nose as your shoulders tensed with the blowout that was about to happen. His eyes pierced into you, watching you with that same bit of intensity they had the first time you donned the Robin suit.

The leather hilt of the blade creaked with the strength of your grip and the cave settled into a tense silence. But you couldn’t feel that anger that you used to when he asked that question any time before, all you felt was that overwhelming, devastating sadness of what your life could have been.

The first time was when Dick left; Bruce wanted comfort, to know that what he had condemned you and your brother to do was right. You had swallowed down that anger, the urge to scream at him and blame him for everything in favour of telling him exactly what he wanted to hear. “I’ve always wanted to help people and being Robin was the best thing I could be.”

It was after Jason’s funeral when he asked next. Your eyes were still swollen with your tears, your shirt ruined from where Dick had been clinging to you and the bruises from the explosion that took your little brother not yet healed. You had refused to answer him, just telling him to get some rest and that the mantle of Batman would be yours until Alfred determined him fit for the field once more.

You supposed this time had been brought on by Tim’s departure to college barely a week ago. The house was noticeably dimmer without the boy genius and it had quite obviously been affecting your father. You nor Dick or Jason ever got the chance to go to college so it was a massive change.

The bite of your nails into the palm of your hand brought you back into focus where your father was watching you, unblinking. Bruce was a patient man, you’ll give him that.

“Why exactly does it matter? I have a job to do here- protect my brothers, protect the city, protect you in that order, just like you taught me.” His flinch was almost imperceptible to the untrained eye but you were far from untrained.

“Is that really what you want out of your life?” He was probing for something and you didn’t really care. The blade slid easily back into its sheath as you approached the wall of weaponry behind you.

“What I may want isn’t relevant here, I’m doing what I can- is that enough for you?” With more force than necessary, you slammed the sword into place, turning your back on your father. “I have shit to do, call me if you need backup.”

——————

You had been avoiding your room like the plague for three days now. Each time you stepped foot in there, all you could think about was the letter and how the deadline for the offer was drawing ever closer. The easiest solution would just be to throw it out or even calling the university to tell them that you were declining their offer but the easy way of doing things was not your style.

Instead, you started staying up all night and crashing on the couch whenever you needed a power nap. You weren’t dense enough to think that your family hadn’t noticed your change in behaviour but they at least didn’t mention it and you were grateful for that.

“Hey Dams, I need you for a second.” Ever eager to avoid his homework, your youngest brother perked up, his undivided attention now firmly on you. You chuckled softly. “Can you go grab my charger from my room, it should be on my desk.”

“Tt, so forgetful.” He muttered but obeyed anyway, leaving you smiling softly as you returned to your book.

You hadn’t noticed how long he had been gone until it was Jason that strolled into your father’s office. Still donned in his leather jacket, hair still damp from the rain that had only just started, he looked like a mess. “I thought you vowed never to come back.” You quipped.

“Har har, you’re still annoying as shit I see.” But even with his harsh tone, Jason plopped himself next to you on the couch and leaned his head on your shoulder. “Are you ever gonna get outta here?”

Your eyes flicked to your not so little brother. “Why is everyone asking me that, I mean if you want me to move out, I can.” You brushed off with a laugh.

“You don’t have to stay y’a know, you can go if you want. No one would be angry at you.” Your heart clenched painfully in your chest. That little seedling of hope began to come back to life once again, tentatively putting out roots.

“Where would I go Jay-bird?” He shook his head, forcing his face into your neck just like he would do when he was little.

“Anywhere, somewhere far from here.”

“But then who would be around to protect you Robins hm?”

“We aren’t little anymore, we can take care of ourselves.” You wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders and kissed the top of his head. Before you could respond, the office door opened once more and most of the rest of your family filed in.

Each of them looked haunted and almost withdrawn, save for Damian who angrily stomped over to you, and shoved Jason off of you so he could crawl onto your lap. “Who died?” You let your youngest brother wrap your arms around him as you made eye contact with your father.

But it was Dick that stepped forward, a piece of paper in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell us?” His voice shook with that unique mixture of rage and heartbreak that it seemed only he could perfect. The paper trembled in his hands, making the embossment at the top visible.

You poked Damian on his side. “I told you to stop looking through my stuff, you little shit.”

“Couldn’t find your charger.” He responded indigently, his fingers curling into your shirt.

“This is a big deal miss, not just anyone gets into this university.” Alfred, ever the peacemaker, laid a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “You should have told us.”

“It’s nothing, it was a lapse of judgement. I wouldn’t leave you all.” You brushed off but evidently, that wasn’t good enough for anyone. Dick and Jason scoffed while Bruce just looked like he was about to cry.

“You could go, leave this place and you’re giving it up for some idea that we need protecting? That’s fucking stupid.” Jason shoved himself away from you, angrily rising to his feet as he ran a hand through his hair. “You have a real shot here.”

“Is that what this is, some kind of fucking intervention? My life is my own thank you very much, I don’t need all of you telling me what I can or cannot do.” You tried to pry Damian from you in some vain attempt to get away from the conversation but that sneaky shit had dug his fingers into your shirt so tightly that there was no way you were getting him off of you without ripping off your shirt.

The roots were taking hold and it made you feel like shit. Who were you to leave this all behind when it could so easily be ripped away from you? You were needed here, your purpose was here not at some college where you couldn’t be there to protect your brothers.

“We’ll be ok, you can go.” You shook your head, biting back tears that were already building. Bruce came closer, taking your face between his hands. “I have put too much on you, I should have realised long ago. I’m sorry Birdie.”

“You haven’t called me that since I was 12.” Your father laughed sadly.

“Oh my girl, I haven’t been a good father to you have I?” His calloused thumbs wiped away the tears that you hadn’t realised were now steadily rolling down your full cheeks.

“You were never a good dad.” Jason scoffed which was quickly followed by a yelp as Dick elbowed him in the stomach.

“They’re having a moment.”

“I put so much weight on your shoulders, it was my job to protect all of you but I don’t think I’ve done a very good job at that. This shouldn’t be your dream, you deserve to make a life for yourself without having to worry about all of us.” It was so strange to see your father laid so bare in front of you, freely admitting his mistakes. “You deserve so much more than this.”

You looked at your brothers as if they would give you some excuse to stay, to reject that offer but their faces remained stern if not a little sad. “You can go sis.” Dick nodded.

“You’ve done more than enough for us, I think it’s time that we pick up the slack.” Jason bumped him with his shoulder and gave you a big grin. “Besides, I think it would be nice for you to actually have a social life instead of nagging us all the time.”

Alfred spoke again. “I believe what Master Jason is trying to say is that we won’t hold you back from chasing your dreams. In fact, we are actually quite proud of you.”

A solid weight against your chest brought your gaze back down to the youngest of the group. “Damian?” You knew that boy was incredibly attached to you and would take some kind of issue with you leaving to go study somewhere else.

“If you don’t go, I will never talk to you again.”

“Well I guess that settles it.” You said thickly, struggling to speak through the lump in your throat. “I’m going to college!” Bruce didn’t hesitate to scoop you into his arms in a hug so tight you felt your ribs creak. Damian whined a slight protest but made no move to slip out from your arms.

“Good because Tim already accepted the offer for you, you start in a couple months.” As your laughter filled the room, the hope in your chest blossomed, casting your guilt and pain into the shadows of its petals.

[Verse 1] The only time I got to praying for a red light Was when I saw your destination as a deadline "This is normal conversation, babe, it's all fine" Making quiet calculations where the fault lies This is good land, or at least it was It takes a strong hand and a sound mind [Verse 2] The college kids are getting so young, ain't they? They're correcting all the grammar on a spray paint And I even gave up driving after nightfall I got tired of the frat boys with their brights on This is good land, or at least it was It takes a strong hand and a sound mind [Pre-Chorus] It makes me smile to know when things get hard Ooh-ooh, you'll be far Ooh-ooh, you'll bе far from here And, while I clеan shit up in the yard Ooh-ooh, you'll be far Ooh-ooh, you'll be far, far from here [Chorus] So, pack up your car, put a hand on your heart Say whatever you feel, be wherever you are We ain't angry at you, love You're the greatest thing we've lost The birds will still sing Your folks will still fight The boards will still creak The leaves will still die We ain't angry at you, love We'll be waiting for you, love [Post-Chorus] And we'll all be here forever And we'll all be here forever We sure will [Verse 3] We're overdue for a revival We spent so long just getting by That's the thing about survival Who the hell— who the hell likes livin' just to die? You told me you would make a difference Well, I got drunk and shut you down It won't be by your own volition If you step foot outside this town But it's all we've had For always [Chorus] So, pack up your car, put a hand on your heart Say whatever you feel, be wherever you are We ain't angry at you, love You're the greatest thing we've lost The birds will still sing Your folks will still fight The boards will still creek The leaves will still die We ain't angry at you, love We'll be waiting for you, love [Post-Chorus] And we'll all be here forever And we'll all be here forever [Outro] You're gonna go far You're gonna go far You're gonna go far You're gonna go far Yes, you are (Ooh-ooh) If you wanna go far Then you gotta go far

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @km-ffluv

@snedhdh @kobaltdragon @blackhawkfanatic @8bookishworm8 @honkytonkbabe @certifiedhunter @qardasngan

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callmebrycelee · 2 months

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MAN CRUSH MONDAY

LOU FERRIGNO JR.

Louis (Lou) Jude Ferrigno Jr. was born November 10, 1984 in Los Angeles, California. The 39-year-old actor is best known for portraying SWAT team leader and decorated officer Donovan Rocker in the CBS procedure action drama television series S.W.A.T. His other TV credits include Louis in How I Met Your Mother, Deputy Haigh in Teen Wolf, Dave Lancellotti in Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Officer Kramer in The Young and the Restless, Jett Masterson in Nicky, Ricky, Dicky & Dawn, firefighter Tommy Kinard in 9-1-1, Weston Wade in Old Flames Never Die, Ryan in Outer Banks, Trent in Resisting Roots, and Jackson Jacobs in Blackout. Lou is 6 feet and 2 inches tall.

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 7 days

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Jack fluff concept request pls

Jack has been really clingy with reader after being apart for a couple days. When they’re finally together he can’t stop following her around. When reader walks from the living room to kitchen Jack is speed walking behind her with a big smile on his face. When reader moves to a different spot on the sofa he automatically gathers his stuff and moves right next to her. When y/n is in the restroom doing her business he opens the door ajar and forced her to hold his hand through the little crack💀💀 basically giving her no personal space. Jack gets offended when y/n asks him why he’s acting this way all clingy and more obsessed than usual

I love you

My Baby Love

A/N: I love you too, anon!

Warning: suggestive

You let out a sweet hum as you felt Jack's cold hands slip around your waist, his chest resting against your back. You felt him sink into the bed against your body, letting out a deep sigh.

"You're home", you whispered with a smile, turning in his hold to face him. "Shhh", he mumbled against your forehead in between gentle kisses. "Go back to sleep, babe." You gave him a quick kiss, your fingers finding his beard as you snuggled into his hold, Jack's chin resting on your head.

You woke up a few hours later to the sun in your face, Jack's body heat warming you up against the cold of the room. You didn't want to get up- two weeks away from Jack was way too long, and you knew in the back of your mind the two of you only had a couple of days together before he was traveling again, and you wanted to soak up as much time together as possible.

You laid gentle kisses along his jawline as you watched him sleep, his lashes fluttering as he dreamt, messy curls hanging low in his face. He barely stirred, only pulling you in tighter.

"Jack, I need to get up." You felt a hand move to cup your bottom. "Mhm, no you don't."

"Someone needs to let Lou out." You countered back, trying to wriggle from his hold to no avail. Jack peeked out of one eye, letting out a sharp whistle that immediately got Lou's attention at the end of the bed. "Lou Lou, go potty." You giggled, moving to tickle Jack underneath his arms so he was forced to let you go with a chuckle.

"That's not fair", he whined as he followed you out of the bedroom, his gruff voice was extra scratchy after a night of performing. You could hear the shuffle of his socked feet as he trailed behind you to the kitchen, his hands never leaving your hips.

Everywhere you moved, he moved as well, resting his head against yours as you worked around the kitchen making breakfast.

You enjoyed his touch, having missed it over the last fourteen days, and knowing that Jack's love language was physical touch, you didn't dare object to him holding you. At least- at first you didn't.

Jack followed you everywhere on that quiet Sunday morning. When you went to do laundry, he was right there with you, holding the laundry basket as you loaded the dryer. You enjoyed the company as he told you every detail of his trip; you loved hearing about everything you missed when you couldn't be with him.

As you moved through your to-do list, Jack was like you personal assistant. First, cleaning out your closet. You modeled new pieces and old ones you were thinking of donating, for Jack, and he eagerly gave his opinion on each one. Next, as you answered your work emails, Jack pulled up a chair next to you, watching your every move, his hands moving between massaging your lower back and thighs as you worked.

The closeness really didn't bother you as you moved through your list, crossing one thing after another off with his help. It wasn't until you went to the bathroom to shower and get ready to run errands that you noticed something was different in his behavior.

"JACK!", you screeched when he busted into the bathroom as you were taking care of business. "What are you doing, baby?" You tried your best to cover yourself up, but he was unfazed. Jack moved across the room, settling on the rim of the tub with his phone in hand, scrolling through his texts. "What?", he looked up at you straight faced. You gestured wildly at your current position, pressing your legs together.

"Its nothing I haven't seen before", he said with a shrug. "Do you like these sneakers?" He showed you his phone screen.

"Jack! Its not about that. Can I have a little privacy, please?" You quickly got up from the toilet, moving to the shower and turning the water to the hottest setting. The steam billowed into the room as you stripped down.

"Oh good, I needed to shower anyway", Jack remarked, pulling his shirt over his head, his ab muscles flexing as he worked at his belt buckle. You placed a gentle hand on his bare chest, stopping him.

"Baby, I'm taking an everything shower. I think you'll just be in the way." You needed to shave, wash your hair, exfoliate your skin, and you knew it'd take at least 45 minutes, even without Jack stopping you multiple times in between to make out. You watched as his face dropped with disappointment, quickly backtracking. "I'm sorry, of course you can join me. Can you help me wash my hair?"

Jack immediately perked up, giving you a kiss to the temple. "Of course, whatever you need."

True to Jack's temperament, what was supposed to be your everything shower, quickly turned into an extra curricular activity that found both of you tired enough to head back to bed, both comfy in Jack's hoodie and sweatpants. When Jack woke an hour later to an empty bed, he gingerly got up to find you, spotting you on the couch with a book in your hand.

"Where'd you go?", he asked with more worry than he intended. You looked up from the pages of your novel with a smile. "You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn't want to wake you."

"Next time, wake me, okay?" His voice was calm but stern, which got your attention. You grunted as he laid his full body weight on top of you. "Baby, I-", you couldn't get out any more words as he tried his best to hide himself underneath your hoodie, his cheek resting against your stomach. You rubbed his back as he settled, knowing you needed to ask him if something was wrong, but not wanting to upset him. As you felt his breaths even, you broached the subject.

"Is something wrong, babe?"

"Nope", he mumbled against your skin, his beard rough across your skin.

"Are you sure? You seem clingier than usual." Jack pulled his head from underneath your sweatshirt. "I didn't know loving my girlfriend was such an inconvenience for you." You could tell he was offended by your questions.

"That's not what I mean, J." You grabbed at his chin, forcing him to look at you. "I love spending time with you, but usually we spend a little bit of time apart during the day. You do your thing, I do mind. I thought we both liked that."

"I do, I just-", he hesitated, "Nevermind. I'll give you some space." Jack pushed up from the couch, but you grabbed his hand before he could walk away. "Talk to me."

He let out a sigh, sitting back down, placing your legs over his lap. "I had a dream a couple nights ago, that you were just gone. It was like a nightmare for me, and the only thing I could think about was getting back to you and making sure you never left my sight."

You could feel a lump building in your throat as he spoke. "I don't know where you went or anything." He shook his head like he was trying to rid his mind of the thought. "I just know I never want to feel like that ever again." He ran a hand through his messy locks, looking at you with watery eyes.

You interlaced your fingers with his, running your thumb over his knuckles. "I'm not going anywhere, Jack. Not ever, okay?" He gave you a quiet nod, and a soft smile. "Okay."

You leaned back against the couch, motioning for him to join you. "C'mere, babe." Jack wasted no time falling into your arms, resting his head against your chest.

#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackman harlow #jackharlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine

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lambtotheslaughterr · 2 days

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Something Wicked This Way Comes

A Rafe Cameron Oneshot

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 13.3k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

OONA'S MASTERLIST

request for @namelesslosers

requests are currently CLOSED

all AI images are created from prompts i wrote. they are not real images.

Summary: Five years after escaping the cluthes of her violent ex, reader is preparing to spend Halloween night alongside her son, but she wakes that morning feeling something amiss...

it's Halloween, after all, & things are bound to give her a fright, even if it is her past catching up for a bite.

READERS, PREPARE YOURSELVES. I GIVE YOU...THE DARKEST FIC I'VE EVER WRITTEN.

It was like any other day. Except it wasn’t. From the moment you woke up, something was off. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but there was a tense sensation in the air around you. It left you feeling on edge all day, but you had summed it up to be your paranoia & anxiety kicking in because it was Halloween night. After all, it was a night of spooky scares.

What didn’t help relieve your unsettled nerves, was the fact that you had woken up late. It was a little past 7:30 in the morning when you finally rolled over to see the time. The red lights flashing at you on your alarm clock shocked you awake, causing you to stumble out of bed.

“Shit!” You hissed as you raced to your closet to pull out your outfit for the day.

“Louie!” You yelled from your bedroom, listening for any sign of your son being awake. When you didn’t get a response you tripped into the hallway as you struggled to throw your dress on over your head. You were relieved you showered before bed, otherwise you would have dreaded going to work without one.

“Lou?!” You hollered again as you stumbled into his bedroom.

His bed was empty & unmade. You cursed again, knowing exactly where you’d find him next. Leaving his room, you succeeded in getting your dress on & tying the bow in the back before entering the living room. As expected, your son was on his stomach, his bent arms holding his head up as he watched cartoons. You spotted the bag of opened candy on the floor before him.

“Lou…” You sped-walk towards him as he kicked his feet.

He smiled up at you, that sweet innocent smile of his you loved so much.

“You overslept again, Mommy.” He pointed out.

You feigned surprise, “You don’t say. Maybe someone should have woken me up."

Bending at the waist, you picked your son up, cradling him on your hip as you searched for the remote to shut off the TV. Lou rested his on your shoulder, his fingers tangling into your hair as he rubbed the strands between his fingers.

“You were crying in your sleep again last night.” Lou revealed, making your heart stop. “I didn’t want to wake you up since you weren’t crying anymore.”

“Oh, hon.” You paused in the hallway to placed him on the ground, kneeling down to be eye-level with him, “I’m sorry you had to hear that again.”

Ever since you left your hometown, or rather ran away from there, you had the same nightmare. In the beginning they happened every single night, but now, almost six years later, they were few & far between. But it was Louie who suffered the most from them. You didn’t realize you were still having him until he was older & started talking. You remembered when he lied next to you in bed one morning, asking why you cried in your sleep. You never had any memories of the nightmares. But Louie remembered them for you.

“Was the bad man in your dream trying to hurt you again?” Lou bit his lip, a small bout of fear appearing in his eyes.

You tugged him into you, holding him tight against your chest as you hugged him, “All that matters is that it was just a dream.”

Lou wrapped his tiny arms over your shoulders, his hands never leaving your hair. That had been a comfort mechanism of his ever since he was an infant.

“I wish he would visit my dreams.” Lou shared softly, to which you gently pulled him away from you to stare at him bewildered.

“Baby, why would you want that?”

He lowered his eyes, “So you could sleep.”

Releasing a saddened sigh, you ran your fingers through his hair, “Mommy is fine, okay? You keep dreaming your excellent, beautiful dreams. One of us has to, right?”

Lou nodded at that but he wasn’t smiling.

Wanting to lighten the mood, you gathered his hands in yours, “I tell you what, you hurry up & go get dressed while Mommy finishes getting ready & we’ll take the long way to school so you can see the kitties, yeah?”

Louie beamed at that, “Really?!”

“Yes, really.” You kissed his forehead before standing up, “Now, hurry! We’re late as it is.”

Lou took off for his bedroom, cheers of joy left in his wake. You smiled after him before re-entering your bedroom. You closed the door behind you, resting against it momentarily as an old memory flashed before you.

You couldn’t breathe, one of his hands wrapped securely around your throat as he fucked himself into you. His pleased groans filled your ears, forcing more tears from your eyes. A chilled shiver shot up your spin when you felt his lips kiss the tops of your breasts where his teeth marks remained. The weight of his body crushed against yours & you had never felt more trapped.

“Mom!” Lou yelled from down the hallway, making you jump, “Can I wear my costume to school?!”

“Yes, baby!” You hollered back, hearing the unevenness in your voice. Shaking away the awful sensations of that memory, you finished getting ready for work.

Lou skipped ahead of you as you walked down the main street of your small town. You had moved here shortly after Louie was born, wanting him to live in a family town that had a good school system. More importantly, it was a close-knit community. Almost everyone knew everyone. That worked in your favor & made you feel safe. It meant that if anyone new ever moved to town you would know about it. Your neighbors were your last line of defense against the man you escaped from over five years ago.

“Look, Mommy, look!” Lou paused in front of the display window the cat adoption café. He had his face pressed against the glass, his ghoul makeup smearing as he did so. You laughed to yourself, knowing you would just have to re-do his makeup again before going into class with all the other ghosts & witches.

“Wow.” You mused along with your son as he meowed at the cats chasing his finger on the other side of the glass. Lou had been asking for a cat for his birthday ever since he was three years old. Whenever he saw one on the street or in a neighbor’s window, he would race towards it at lay on the ground with it as the feline in question would rub along his face & body, making him as one of their own.

But you always had to say no. A cat, or pet of any kind, would slow you down in the event you had to run again. There had never been a peep or warning from your few trusted friends back home, but you couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t live with yourself if you had to escape from your home with Lou at a moment’s notice, him crying over your shoulder as he begged for you to get his pet.

And that made you furious. That you couldn’t give your son something he truly wanted & loved because you had to be ready for when your past caught up to you.

As Lou continued aweing at the kittens behind the glass, you raised your head to peer inside the café. The elderly woman that was always there waved at you through the glass & you waved back. But as you did, you spotted another in the glass. Only they weren’t on the other side, but in the reflection. And they looked a lot like…

A panicked gasp escaped you as you spun around, staring wide-eyed across the street. But no one was there. Your heart was racing as you looked down the street every which way. But all you saw were other townspeople going about their Friday morning.

It’s in your head, _____. You calmed yourself. He’s not here. It wasn’t him. It’s just your paranoia.

Inhaling sharply, you stole Lou’s attention, grabbing his wrist softly, “C’mon, honey, we gotta go.”

Louie allowed you to drag him away from the kitty café, his arm outstretched in longing.

You saw Lou off to his kindergarten classroom before speed-walking down the hallway to the main office. It was a massive relief to you that you managed to land a job in an administrative position at Lou’s school before he even started. Before that you were waitressing while taking online classes at the local community college, & once you got your degree in business administration, you scored a front office desk job at the only elementary school in town. All you needed was to be close to Lou because you never knew when you’d have to snatch him & run.

“Hey, Miriam.” You greeted breathlessly as you raced into the office, tossing your purse on the floor under your desk.

“Hey, you.” She eyed you mischievously.

Miriam was well beyond her retirement period, but Principle Bentley couldn’t get rid of her if he tried. And tried he had. But it was all in good fun. Miriam was a staple of the school & the town itself. She was known as a hard ass but also a gossip queen. She always had all the tea o what was happening in the sleepy Northeastern town. It made your mostly mundane days more enjoyable.

“Overslept again, I see.”

“Yeah.” You sighed as you turned your computer on, “Don’t know what’s going on lately.”

“Something’s in the air.” She commented, echoing your silent thoughts from earlier that morning. “You should relax, though, hon. You’re always wound so tight.”

You raised your brows in agreement as you pulled up your morning duties, “Easier said than done.”

Miriam chuckled at that. The door behind your respective desks opened & Principle Bentley stepped out.

“Morning, ladies.” He greeted as he approached the coffee maker in the corner of the office.

“Morning, Nicholas.” Miriam didn’t care for referring to him by his career name, after all, she did babysit him when he was only a child.

“Morning, Principle Bentley.” You greeted him, to which he smirked sweetly.

“How many times do I gotta tell you, _____, call me Nick.”

Principle Bentley was young for his job. Thirty one, to be exact, & he was a well-known bachelor in the community. He was easy on the eyes, with dark brown eyes reminiscent of a puppy, & dimples that only added to his boyish charm. But he was your boss. And despite his mild flirtatious advances, you only treated him as such.

If you couldn’t indulge your son by getting him a cat, you sure as shit couldn’t indulge yourself with a romantic partner. It was out of the question. Perhaps one day, when Louie was older & out of the house, but until then, you kept your mind distraction free.

“And how many times do I have to tell you, you’re my boss.” You reminded him back, though your tone was friendly.

Principle Bentley chuckled at that before pouring himself a mug of coffee, “What’s on the agenda for today?”

You glanced back at your computer, knowing Miriam really only showed up to get paid & gabber with the mom’s & dad’s that came in to pick up their children.

“There’s an assembly just before lunch, the usual ‘stay safe out there on Halloween night’ spiel followed by some games the teachers put together. And then during final hour the kids will be going from class to class as a precursor to their trick-or-treating.”

He nodded in response, “Sounds like a normal day.”

You smiled, “Pretty much.”

“Alright, well, I trust you two to hold down the fort out here while I make some calls.” He began walking towards his office before stopping in the doorway, “_____?”

“Yes?” You spun around in your chair to face him.

“Before the assembly, I’d like to speak with you.”

“O-okay.” You fumbled, your fingers clenching together.

“It’s nothing bad. Just something I wanted to run past you.”

“Of course.” You nodded sheepishly. Then he closed his door.

Turning back to your computer, you rolled your shoulders, having felt them stiffen at his proposal to talk one-on-one.

“Why is it they always say, ‘it’s nothing bad’, when it is indeed something bad?” You murmured out loud, not truly expecting an answer.

“Nick?” Miriam chuckled, “Boy couldn’t hurt a fly even if he tried. You’re not in trouble dear. If I had to guess…”

You rolled your eyes, recognizing that suggestive tone of your voice very well.

“Nick is finally going to put his big boy pants on & ask you on a date.”

You scoffed at that, facing her wide-eyed, “Miriam! He is not going to ask me on a date. He’s my boss!”

“Oh, pish, posh.” Miriam waved your dismissal away, “I met my husband working for him. It still happens.”

“No.” You chuckled, focusing on your computer as you read emails, “Not that. Besides, I already have a man in my life.”

“Your son, as cute as he is, doesn’t count.” Miriam told you bluntly.

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved her away before sarcastically responding, “Now, shut up. I have very important emails to get back to.”

Miriam left twenty minutes early for the assembly, leaving you to finish off your morning duties alone in the office. There was still five minutes to spare before the assembly started so you put your computer in sleep mode then stood up to head to Principle Bentley’s office.

Knocking gently, you waited until you heard the familiar sound of his voice, telling you to come in.

“_____!” He grinned, rising from his chair, “Please, take a seat.”

Despite what Miriam teased you about earlier, you still felt nervous. Though she was right about Principle Bentley being a good guy, you still felt like you had done something wrong.

“So, is this about my being late?” You questioned, your brows creasing.

“You were late?” He replied, clearly only hearing about it now.

“Oh…yeah.” You sighed, “I’m sorry about that. It won’t happen again, I prom—”

“_____, it’s okay. You’re not in trouble. Miriam bails on her duties all the time & have I spoken to her about it?”

“Well, no, but it’s Miriam. No one really wants to cross her.” You joked, trying to lighten the anxiety bubbling in your chest.

“Sure, sure.” He nodded in agreement, “Look, I don’t mind if you’re late. You could be two hours late & it’d be fine. I mean, what are you gonna miss, signing kids in & out? It’s fine, really.”

“Okay.” You felt yourself relax, “If you say so.”

“I do.” He chuckled.

“So, what is that you wanted to discuss?”

Principle Bentley sucked his teeth in awkwardly before finally leaning forward on his desk, his elbows resting there with his hands raised, “I know it’s a long shot, but I was wondering if you’d be interested in getting lunch together today.”

“Oh.” You felt your smile drop. Oh. Miriam had been right.

“No pressure, either!” He rushed out, “I know how weird it’s gotta be having your boss ask you out but I don’t know, figured I’d at least try.”

“Yeah.” You chuckled awkwardly before gathering your thoughts, “The offer is nice, Nick. But—”

“Nick?” He asked incredulously but was smiling nonetheless, “Using my name? I know what that means.”

He was letting you let him down easily & you were grateful towards him for it.

“But I’m going to have to decline.”

“I understand.” He nodded, never losing his boyish smile.

“Ya know, in a perfect world, I—” You stopped yourself, unsure if you really wanted to say what you were about to say, but the look on Nick’s face encouraged you to keep going.

“In a perfect world, I’d say yes.” You admitted. Nick was a good guy. He always took care of you & Miriam. Plus he enjoyed working with the kids & all parents sung his praises. Nick Bentley was a good guy, & he’d be an excellent father. Truly, that was something you wish you could have given Lou, a father, but with your past still terrorizing you in your sleep, it just wasn’t possible.

“And what is a perfect world?” Nick asked, his voice soft.

You sighed, biting your lower lip in thought. “I love being a mother. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”

For some odd reason, you were ready to tell someone your life story, or at least the nicer parts about it. Something indeed was in the air.

“But I had Lou when I was young, too young. I was nineteen. I wasn’t ready… & ya know, Lou’s father…” You inhaled sharply as those startling blue eyes of your ex flashed through your mind. “Let’s just say he wasn’t a good guy. I’m just not ready for another relationship. Or dating, even. I just want to focus on being a good mother to Lou.”

Nick eyed you with admiration in his eyes. He nodded in understanding, “Your son is very lucky to have you. I hope you know that.”

The praise made your heart falter with elation. Because you ran away from your hometown, & couldn’t risk your ex finding you, you were forced to cut off all communication with friends & family. No one had even met your son. Not your parents, not your best friend, no one. It was another aspect of your life that you were furious about. That Lou was forced to only call you family when he had so many more people out there who would love him just as much as you did. But to protect him most of all, you had to stay hidden. So, hearing those words from Nick made your heart swell.

“Thank you for saying that.” You replied almost inaudibly.

“Thank you for being transparent.” Nick responded in kind, “I can’t imagine it was easy to share.”

“No.” You chuckled openly, “It wasn’t. At all.”

“Well,” Nick stood from his chair, gesturing towards the door, “walk with me to the assembly?”

You laughed & clapped your hands as kids all over the gymnasium ran amok, your ghoulish son among them. After the usual ‘stay safe’ portion of the assembly, the kids were free to go around to booths the teachers had put together in the spirit of Halloween night. You took to the wall, your eyes following your son as he ran around with his friends, chasing one of the 3rd grade teachers dressed a ghost, playing a game they called ‘ghost hunters’.

Nick was in the midst of it all, getting tangled up with the kids as they either wrapped themselves around his legs or tried climbing his black. You hid your smile behind your hand as you watched on.

On the bleachers to your right was Miriam & a few other female staff members. They all appeared to be reacting in shock to something Miriam was saying. You were curious to what tea she was spilling so you found yourself joining them.

“Why the shocked faces?” You asked. One of the first grade teachers, Isabella, handed you a Styrofoam cup of hot apple cider. You accepted it gratefully.

“You haven’t heard?!” Sophia, one of the student teacher’s, turned to you in shock, “Someone broke into George Acosta’s barn last night & stole that ancient Chevy truck he’s been working on for ages.”

You frowned at that. You knew the truck well, everyone did. But only because it made these awful metal, grinding sound as it ambled down the roads throughout town. You could hear it from two blocks away most times as it backfired, alerting anyone in the vicinity that good old Mr. Acosta was out & about.

“I’m telling ya.” Isabella commented, “Whoever stole it has to be from out of town. No one is idiotic enough to steal from George. Remember when he threatened Sheriff Kaufman with a loaded shot gun just for pulling over a reckless driving teen on his property last year? Even the Sheriff was apologizing profusely to him.”

The women cackled amongst themselves but you weren’t laughing. The strange occurrence & Isabella’s theory about it being an out of towner made your stomach shift into knots.

It not him. It can’t be. Someone would’ve contacted you if he got wind of where you were. It was just a random crime, _____. It’s not him. You’re okay. Lou is okay. Calm down. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Ex—

“_____? My god, are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Isabella placed a hand on your upper back in comfort.

You nodded shakily but stood up, “I’m alright. Just feeling sick all of a sudden.”

“You don’t look good, hon.” Miriam added, peering at you with concern.

“I’ll be fine.” You assured them, “I just need to use the restroom really quick.”

Everything was okay. It was just your paranoia, you knew that, but you couldn’t deny how ever since this morning you felt like something awful was coming. But you reminded yourself that it wouldn’t be the first time you felt that way & ended up realizing eventually that it was just your nerves & traumatic responses acting up.

“Nick.” You approached him as he assisted with the gym teacher in replacing a skeleton pinata with a pumpkin one.

“Hey!” He greeted jovially but frowned when he took in your state, “Whoa, you alright?”

“I’m not feeling well, all of a sudden. I don’t know what’s happening but—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” He clambered down the ladder he had been on to gently grip your upper arms, “What do you need?”

“I know I was late this morning but would it be alright if I went home for the day? I just, I don’t want to get the kids sick if it’s something contagious.”

You were lying through your teeth, something you had gotten really good at, but it was for the right reason.

“Yeah, of course, of course. Is there anything I can do?”

Your eyes searched out Lou as he gathered around one of the teachers dressed as a warlock, listening intently to a story he was reading from a book.

“Yes, but it’s too much to ask for.”

“Hey.” Nick smiled kindly at you, “There’s no such thing, what is it?”

“Would you mind bringing Lou home after school? Normally I’d take him with me but he’s having too much fun & I don’t want to ruin his day. Plus, I have no car to pick him up & I don’t want him walking home from school alone.”

“Of course, yeah, I can do that, it’ll be no problem.” He nodded.

It took a long time getting comfortable about Lou being alone with anyone who wasn’t you, but after living in the close-knit community as long as you did, you knew that Louie would be in safe hands with whomever you left him with.

“Thank you, seriously, thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He stood up straight but remained watching you with concern, “What about you though? Do you need a ride home?”

“No.” You mustered a grateful smile, waving away his offer, “I’ll be okay. I just need to get home & take a cold shower or something.”

“Okay, yeah. Will you call me when you get there? Let me know you’re alive & what not.”

The two of you shared a laugh but you nodded, “Of course.”

“Alright. I’ll bring him back straight after school. You focus on feeling better.”

“Thank you, Nick.”

He gripped your shoulder in comfort before you parted from him to approach Louie. He was still listening to the warlock’s story when you appeared behind him.

“Hey, baby. Mommy’s not feeling well so I’m going home. Principle Bentley said he’d bring you home after school, okay?”

He spun around towards you, his youthful face frowning as he peered up at you, “Are you okay, Mommy?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, I just feel sick, that’s all.”

“Is it your dreams?”

“No.” You shook your head rapidly, cupping his cheek, “I just need to lie down for a while.”

“Okay.” He gave you that soft smile of his you adored so much.

“Mommy loves you.” You hugged him, kissing him three times on the crown of his head, “I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Bye, Mommy.”

“Bye, baby.”

After seeking out Lou’s teacher & asking her to walk him to the office at the end of the school day so Nick could drive him home, you were finally able to leave work. Fortunately, you only lived five blocks away, so you would be home in no time to get your head together. You hated lying to your coworkers, more so, your son, but you needed to get home to ensure that everything was still ready to go in case you & Lou had to run. Never in the five years that you had lived in your town had you ever had a nasty feeling like you did today. And although you knew it was likely just the eeriness of Halloween mixed with your paranoia, you chose to be safe rather than sorry.

But as you strolled home, your cardigan wrapped snugly around your front, you couldn’t help as your mind strayed to the past.

You were in love, maddeningly so. He was everything you could have dreamed of. And the way he looked at you always had you feeling like a schoolgirl with a silly crush. You could never have imagined that you would have found your prince. And that’s just what he was. He was your prince charming & you were his darling princess.

The two of you were inseparable. The honeymoon phase meant something new with the two of you. Your relationship was filled with laughter, friendship, trust, & most importantly, love. So much love. You never knew you could love anyone as deeply as you loved him, & you knew he felt the same.

And for the first year of your relationship it was pure bliss. Until it wasn’t.

Everything changed after you turned 18. You were ready to take your relationship to the next level. He had been ecstatic that you were ready to become intimate & finally have sex. It was how you knew he was one of the good ones, that he never pressured you or tried anything himself. He was respectful & kind & patient. Everything you dreamt about. But once you two did have sex, something changed in him. A darker energy you never knew he had emerged.

It started out small. He would become touchier. You had reasoned to yourself it was just because now that you two were having sex he was antsy for it all the time. But when the times came that you wouldn’t want, whether it was because you weren’t in the mood or weren’t feeling well, he would make snarky remarks under his breath. And then it shifted again.

He started to not want you going out with him, even if it was just to a friend’s house to watch a movie. He would text you the whole time, blow up your phone, leave you voicemails accusing you of not being where you said you were. Your friends pointed out to you that his behavior was problematic & that you should discuss it with. And so you did. Why wouldn’t you of? After all, you two had never had serious issues before. But you couldn’t have been more wrong.

The night you told him that he was beginning to make you feel suffocated would be a night you never forgot. He has lost his mind. You had never heard him yell before, let alone raise his voice, especially at you, but he had done it all that night. When he got to a point where you felt scared to be alone with him you had tried leaving but he wouldn’t have any that.

It was the first time he raped you. It wouldn’t be the last.

After the first time though, he had apologized profusely, swearing it would never happen again. He confessed to you that he was just scared of losing you & that you were giving him mixed signals lately. You didn’t understand that, knowing that in your own mind you were definitely not doing that, but he looked so scared, so terrified of losing you, that it had convinced you to stay with him.

You would live to regret it. His behavior didn’t change, it only got worse. But it eventually go to a point where you were practically chained to him. You stopped hanging out with your friends, quit coming out of your room to visit with your family, stopped posting about your life on social media. You became a scared little girl, & it was all because of him.

Then when you thought he couldn’t get worse, he proved you wrong.

The two of you had been attending a beach party. It was with his friends so you weren’t anticipating seeing any of your own, but one had been there. You had known Donovon your whole life, longer than any of your friends. Other than your closest girlfriend, Donovon was your next closest friend. So, when you saw him at that party, you were ecstatic to see a face you were forbidden to see.

It was your mistake putting Donovon in the devil’s path. Had you known what your boyfriend was capable of, you would have never taken him back. But that didn’t matter. When Donovon saw you, he snuck up behind you, capturing you by your waist & lifting you into the air. You had squealed in fear at first, genuinely scared due to your ex’s mental, emotional, & physical torment, but when you realized who it was, you only felt relief.

So, you hugged Donovon. Your oldest friend.

And it would be the last time you, that anyone did.

The devil had heard your screams of fear & came rushing forward furiously. You had no time to react or stop him as he tackled Donovon to the ground before beating him to a pulp. Donovon didn’t have a chance to defend himself as the devil knocked his head every which way. Others at the party managed to separate the two but the damage had been done.

Donovon was in the hospital for two weeks before his family took him off life support. Your boyfriend had murdered your oldest friend. And he got away with it, too. Witnesses at the party protected the devil, saying that Donovon had started it. That it was just a fight that got out of hand. No one knew that it would come to that. And most of all, your boyfriend’s father used his influence to ensure his son would never see a sentence. Not even for manslaughter.

Your boyfriend swore to you that he didn’t mean to lose it like he did but you saw that dark fury behind his eyes. He had. He had meant every single fist brought down onto your friend’s skull, & he would do it again.

You weren’t safe with him. That much you knew, but you didn’t know how to get away from him. At the time, you were preparing yourself to be one of the women you had seen in those domestic violence movies who couldn’t find their voice to tell anyone the truth. But that all changed when you took a pregnancy test & it came back positive.

That pink plus sign was all you needed to kick your flight instinct into gear. It took a couple weeks to get everything prepared, but you made it happen. They were the scariest weeks of your life because you were required to sneak behind the devil’s back to get the plan into place. After what he did to Donovon, it took little convincing from old friends & your parents to help you get out.

But you didn’t want them to get hurt in the process. So, once you had the funds, the drive, & a bus ticket out of town, you told all of those who helped you that you wouldn’t be in contact with them, too scared that if they knew where you were that your ex would do to them as he did to Donovon just to find out where you were. You couldn’t allow that, not again.

And so you ran, & you didn’t stop running until you reached the New England states. Throughout your relationship, you had revealed to your boyfriend many times how you dreamed of living in the Pacific Northwest. It would be the first place he looked for you. And he had the funds & means to do just that. So you went to the other end of the country, counting your days until he found you again.

The backfiring of a nearby engine shocked you out of your reverie. You blinked away your memories, realizing you were then only a block away from your house. The backfiring of a nearby engine sounded near the end of the street you were on & you froze, remembering what your coworkers at work had just told you about Georga Acosta.

You felt safe enough standing there on Main Street, surrounded by townsfolk as they went about their business, but you felt a chill roll up your spine. As if eyes were watching you. As if he was watching you.

Your flight instinct from long ago kicked in & you rushed into the nearest storefront. It was a Halloween store. The man behind the counter smiled politely at you as he continued helping a customer. You backed yourself up until you couldn’t be seen from the street but could still see the street yourself. As you did, the engine grew closer. You stood behind a shelf at the end of an aisle as you waited for Acosta’s truck to appear. For him to be behind the wheel.

But when the truck finally appeared, you felt a heavy weight lift from your shoulders. It was Chevy, much like Mr. Acosta’s, but not his. Instead, the truck that ambled down the street was filled to the brim with teenagers hooting & hollering as they wore Halloween masks, playing the iconic Halloween theme song on a boombox from the bed.

You fluttered your eyes closed, your hand on your chest.

“Miss, are you alright?”

Your eyes flew open at the nearby voice. It was the man behind the counter, the customer he had been helping gone.

“Yes, sorry.” You breathed out, a relieved smile on your face.

“Did you need to purchase something?” You could tell he was curious about you but didn’t push.

Your arm brushed against the shelves you had been hiding behind. On the display shelf was a witches hat. You quickly grabbed it.

“Just this.”

After paying, you felt safe enough to leave the store, now knowing your imagination was just that. Then you finished your walk home.

Someone was calling your name. It was like a whisper, close but far away at the same time. Your name was said again, over & over, & every single time it repeated it grew closer, louder. Until nothing. Then it was quiet.

Then a pair of lips touched your cheek.

You shot forward in bed, your face coated in sweat, your chest heaving. Your mouth & throat was dry. Holding your head in your hands, you focused on calming down your breathing. You touched your cheek where you had felt the kiss. It was warm to touch.

It was just a dream. You had fallen asleep, not meaning to, just wanting to lie down for five minutes but it seems your body had other plans. Once you gathered yourself, shaking away the nerves, you stood from your bed, your muscles aching. But as you did you halted immediately.

The door to your bedroom was open. Not all the way, just cracked open. You frowned. You were sure you had shut it. But ever since getting home, your mind had been a mess. All the anxiety & paranoia you were feeling was eating you away. You were losing it!

Brushing the concern for you door away, you exited your room, heading down to your kitchen. The clock on the stove read 2:32. School would have just gotten out, Nick would be here any moment with Louie. You chugged a glass of water & opened the fridge, peering inside to get a snack ready for Lou, though you imagined he would be bringing home plenty of candy from the trick-or-treat at school.

Just as you fingered a package of sliced ham, the doorbell rang. You felt your brows crease, checking the clock once more. 2:33.

They must have left school early. You thought mindlessly, knowing it was Nick with your son at the door.

Tossing the ham onto the counter, you rounded the kitchen to the front door. You unlatched the lock & swung it open.

“That was qui—” Your words died on your tongue.

There was no one. You frowned, stepping out onto your porch. Looking into your front yard & the neighbors, you saw no one in sight. Your street was quiet & bare of any life.

So, who rang the doorbell?

The question only left you reeling. Turning back to go inside, you stopped when something in the corner of your eye stole your attention. On the bottom step of the stairs leading to your porch was a few pumpkins you & Lou hard carved out together earlier that week. They appeared relatively normal except for one.

Warily descending the stairs, you gripped the banister when you finally realized what was wrong with the single pumpkin. The handle of a knife glinted under the autumn sun as it stuck out from the top of the pumpkin. You covered your mouth with your hand, whipping around to check your surroundings once more. There was no one in sight, not even Eugenia May—the town recluse—was peeking out from her window.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. You turned back to the pumpkin, kneeling down to inspect further. From what you could make out thanks to the cut-outs of the pumpkin, the knife was long, nearly piercing the other side.

Why would someone—

“Boo!”

A scream tore from your throat at the booming voice behind you.

Spinning around, you nearly toppled over before Nick managed to catch you by the elbow.

“What the fu—” Your son looked up at you with wide eyes, “—dge?!”

“Sorry.” Nick smiled uncomfortably, “It was your son’s idea.”

Your eyes danced between the two of them as your heart began to settle down. You hadn’t even heard the hum of an engine, let alone their footsteps as they came up the walkway.

“What are you doing outside, Mommy?” Louie asked, watching you curiously.

It was then that you remembered, too, why you were outside. You stepped in front of the pumpkin with the knife sticking out, grateful Lou had yet to see it.

“I was excited to you, baby.” You told him, ruffling his hair. He slapped your hands away playfully.

“Hey, why don’t you go inside & get a fruit snack, I’ll be in in a moment, I just need to talk to Principle Bentley.”

Louie charged forward. You smiled wryly, watching his small legs amble up the stairs & into the house.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Your kid is hard to say no to.” Nick apologized.

“No, that’s okay.” You waved it away, “I’m just relieved it was you & not someone else.”

“Who else would it be?” Nick asked, not realizing the dangerous ground he was treading.

“Maybe the person who stabbed my pumpkin.” You said, stepping out of the way to reveal the petty crime.

“Oh, shit.” Nick eyed the pumpkin on the bottom step, “Who’d you piss off?”

Of course you knew it was a joke but you didn’t laugh. In fact, it did the opposite. You frowned, staring at the deadly weapon.

“Oh, hey, I’m sorry, I was only kidding.” Nick reached for you but you stepped away.

“It’s—it’s fine. Forget about it.” Bending over, you snatched the knife by its handle before yanking it out. “Just me being fucking paranoid again.” You mumbled but Nick had heard you.

You were climbing back up to porch when he caught up to you, blocking the way to your door with a concerned look on his face, “_____, I’m sorry, truly I am.”

You stared at him, unsure of his words.

“Are you really thinking someone did this to you on purpose?”

His question unsettled you. You shifted from foot to foot as you avoided his eyes. You could feel your breathing begin to quicken, on the edge of hyperventilating.

“Hey, hey.” Nick closed the distance between the two of you, placing his hands on your shoulders gently, “Talk to me. If you’re really concerned then we should call someone about it.”

“No!” You rushed out, “No. It’s nothing. It’s just me being paranoid, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

You tried to go around him but Nick blocked you once more.

“I’ll get out of your way, I promise, but…I’ve never seen you like this before. This…scared. If something is happening, I want to help.”

“You can’t help.” You sighed defeatedly. You were just so tired, so tired of looking over your shoulder, of worrying about if & when he would find you. You just wanted to live a happy, normal life with your son.

“I can try.” Nick captured your eyes, “If you let me.”

As you stared back at him, seeing the genuine care for you, the same look you had seen once before in the last man you trusted, you felt yourself soften. Nick wasn’t him. Nick was a good person. Unlike your past, he wanted to help you. And so, for the first time in five years, you let someone in.

It was nearly 5’o’clock when Lou took off from the dinner table to go wash his hands. Nick helped you clear the table of dirty dishes. You thanked him for his help before placing the last of the dishes in the dishwasher.

“So, this ex of yours.” Nick began, “You think he’s found you?”

“I don’t know.” You shook your head, peering out a window over your kitchen sink, “I’ve been living in fear of him finding us for so long that anything remotely out of the ordinary makes me think it’s him.”

“Well, I can almost assure you that it’s not.” Nick kept his voice low as Lou entered the main room.

“Go ahead & watch some cartoons.” You told him, to which Lou very happily obliged. Once the TV sounded from the living room, you turned to Nick.

“How can you assure me that?”

After Nick made his claim to want to help you, you had told him everything. Everything. Not a detail spared. You weren’t explicit in reciting your history with your dreaded ex, but you detailed enough to get the point across.

“I called down to the station.” Nick revealed.

Your eyes widened, immediately questioning if you were wrong to trust him, but Nick raised his hand in reassurance, already predicting your reaction, “I didn’t give any names, I promise. I just asked if they had gotten any complaints about pumpkins or the like being vandalized. You know Brenden Brennen?”

You did. No one forgot an unfortunate name like that. He was a local teenager, known to be trouble.

“Apparently Brenden & some of his friends have been going around scaring people. Throwing poppers into driveways, jumping out of bushes, prank calling. I guess even Stephanie Romero’s garage got tagged with fake blood.”

You nodded, understanding where he was going with it all.

“It’s Halloween. It’s a spooky night. Kids are just getting up to no good, that’s all. Things are bound to go bump in the night.”

It did little relieve you but you accepted the likelihood that it was Brenden who stabbed your pumpkin.

“But what about Mr. Acosta’s truck? I mean, Isabella’s right. No one in town, not even Brenden Brennen, would be stupid enough to mess with him, let alone that truck he holds near & dear to his heart.”

Nick chuckled at that but shrugged, “Nothing so far as far as I know. But Mr. Acosta is getting up there. Way, waaaay up there. I hear his daughter complain every now & then that she swears he’s got Alzheimer’s, says he’s been losing track of things a lot lately.”

“A truck is quite a big thing to lose track of.” You muttered.

“Yeah, it is.” Nick nodded in agreement, “But think of it this way. From the sounds of it, your ex has money, & lots of it. If he were here, he wouldn’t be breaking into a barn to steal a beat-up old truck. He’d probably be driving through town in one of those nice sports cars that rarely come through here. And I say ‘rarely’ because folk like that stick out like a sore thumb. So, if he were here, someone would’ve noticed him by now.”

Everything he was saying was making sense, & you knew it to be true. You sighed, smiling, feeling like a fool.

“I just want it to end.” You admitted, your voice soft as you stared at Lou on the other end of the room, “I don’t want to live in fear for the rest of my life. I want Louie to have a normal childhood, not one that he looks back on wondering why his mom was always crying in her sleep or looking over her shoulder every day.”

“Hey.” Nick approached you, his hand on your lower back in comfort, “You have done so much for him. He knows how much you love him, he sees that. And he loves you, too. It may not be the childhood you want for him but it’s better than the one he could’ve had if you hadn’t run away, isn’t it?”

“Oh, god.” You marveled horrifically at the thought. You never thought too long, if ever, about what it would have been like raising Lou back home, with him always around.

“See?” Nick consoled you, “You’re giving him the childhood he deserves. As long as that kid there has you, he’ll be alright.”

You nodded, peering up Nick, “Thank you. For everything.”

He grinned sheepishly at that, shrugging, “I’m here for you, _____. For as long as you need me.”

It had been a long time since you felt like you found someone you could trust. You were happy Nick was the first.

Surprising even yourself, you raised onto your tiptoes & placed a kiss on his cheek. You watched as Nick blushed at the affection. When you pulled away, you two stared at one another before laughing lightly.

“Are you going to be my Dad, now?”

Both of you jumped apart as Lou stared at the two of you from the other side of the kitchen.

“What was that, buddy?” Nick played off your sons question as you tucked your smile into your teeth.

“No, baby, Principle Bentley was just helping Mommy.”

Lou made a questionable face but moved on, “When are we going trick-or-treating?”

“Oh, um.” You eyed the clock on the stove. It was nearly 6. “Any moment! Go get a jacket on & we’ll head out.”’

Lou began to run down the hallway before he stopped to stare at Nick, “Are you coming with us, Principle Bentley?”

“Oh, I, uh, we haven’t discussed—”

“Yes.” You answered for him, watching as Lou broke out into a smile in response, “Now go get a jacket, mister!”

Once Lou was out of sight, you turned towards Nick, “It’s probably not the date you had in mind but if you’d like, Lou & I would love to have you join us.”

Nick grinned that dimpled boyish grin of his, “Then I’d love to.”

Kids ran amok throughout the neighborhood as you & Nick walked side by side on the sidewalk, watching as Lou raced from house to house, filling his plastic pumpkin candy bowl to the brim. Every now & then, a candy or two would spill out as your son ran happily between yards.

Lou had wanted you to dress up but you had forgotten to actually get yourself a costume. So, the witches hat you had purchased earlier that day was all you had for a costume. It was enough to satisfy Lou, though the same couldn’t be said for Nick. You ended up having to use some of your own makeup to draw a clown look onto your boss’s face. He looked ridiculous, but you supposed that was fitting.

“He’s pretty great.” Nick commented, watching your son compliment another ghoul’s costume.

“Yeah, he is.” You felt pride.

“Ya know,” Nick began, his hands stuffed into his pockets, “I obviously don’t know anything about your ex except from what you’ve told me—which is all bad, bad stuff—but I hope you know that your son is yours. He’s not his. Even if he’s made up of half of him. Who he grows up to be, that’ll be all you.”

The thought warmed you. That was all you could really ask for.

The two of you watched as Lou ran down the stairs of another house before running up to you, practically slamming into your legs.

“Oof, careful, babe.” You giggled. Lou grinned up at you, holding out a piece of candy.

“Your favorite.” A Smartie was perched between his fingers.

You accepted the candy, smiling down at you son, “Thank you, Louie.”

Then he was off again, more candy spilling out behind him.

“He has his eyes.” You shared. Nick peered at you as you continued. “At first, that terrified me, ya know, when he grew into them. So much of his father there. So much of…”

You still couldn’t say his name.

“But you’re right.” You sniffled, the chilly autumn air beginning to make your nose run, “Louie will be nothing like him, even if he resembles him. He’ll be soft, gentle, kind, so full of life & wonder & happiness. All the things he is now. All the things his father isn’t.”

The three of you crossed the street once Lou finished up at the last house on the corner.

“You’re a really good mom, _____.” Nick commented, “Louie is in good hands, your hands.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, sharing a smile with him, though his smile appeared wider thanks to the red lipstick stretched across his lips & cheeks. You giggled openly, unable to take him seriously.

“What?” Nick widened his eyes in feigned offense, “It’s not my fault you don’t know how to draw a decent clown face.”

As you two laughed amongst yourselves, someone suddenly shouldered you, practically taking you off your feet.

“Hey, watch it!” Nick caught you as you stumbled into a neighbor’s yard.

You followed his line of sight, staring at the back of what you assumed to be a grown man as he stalked down the sidewalk, his hood pulled over his head. Nick grumbled in annoyance as he pulled you upright but you only remained staring after the man. But he never looked back & before you knew it, he had turned a corner & disappeared from sight.

“What is it?” Nick asked.

“N-nothing.” You faked a smile, shaking your head as you turned your attention back to him.

“Prick should watch where he’s going. Had we been one of these kids we’d’ve been flattened.”

Nick continued walking down the sidewalk, following behind as Lou continued his night of trick-or-treating. You looked over your shoulder once more & were startled by what you saw.

At the end of the block, where the man had disappeared off to, there he stood. At least, you assumed it was the same man, standing eerily still just staring at you. But you weren’t sure if it was you he was staring at. He was wearing a mask resembling a hockey mask, his face completely covered. There was no way to tell just exactly where he was looking but you felt it… you felt his eyes staring right back into your own.

“_____!” Nick hollered your name. You spun back around, realizing they had moved a couple houses down, “Coming?”

Looking back to the man, you were disheartened to find him gone, the corner barren of anyone taller than five feet.

Frowning, you caught up to Nick.

“Everything okay?”

You weren’t sure, but you reminded yourself of everything Nick had said earlier. If he was here, you would’ve known by now. And like he also said, it was Halloween, there was bound to be scares in the night.

Lou was slouched against Nick’s chest as he carried him back to your house. He was already half-way asleep, the excitement & running around having finally caught up to him. You carried his pumpkin basket full of candy, leading the way back. Once you reached the steps leading up the pathway to your porch, you peered up at you house, ensuring that nothing looked amiss.

“He’s gonna have one hell of a candy hangover.” Nick joked softly.

You smiled back him, “Thank you again for carrying him all this way.”

“It’s no problem.” He assured you, carrying your nearly asleep son up the stairs to your porch. You unlocked the door to your house, swinging it open so Nick could bring Louie inside.

“Where’s his bedroom?” Nick whispered. You pointed to your hallway, “Last door on the left.”

Locking the door behind you, you placed your keys & Louie’s basket of candy onto a counter in the kitchen before trailing down the hallway to his room. Inside, you found Nick gently tucking your son into bed. He was well asleep at that point. You smiled elatedly at the sight. It was a sight you had never seen before: a grown man putting your Lou to bed. It brought you more comfort than you thought possible.

Nick tiptoed out of the room & you pulled Lou’s door closed until only a crack was left.

Following Nick back into the main room, you grinned up at him, “You’re my hero.”

“Oh?” Nick raised a single brow, “Why’s that?”

“He adores you.” You nodded, “I remember after his first day of school he talked about how the principle came to his class to play games with the kids & get to know them. Of course, he doesn’t understand yet that you’re my boss, so he spoke about you like I had never met you before. You’ve made an impression on him ever since.”

“I could say the same thing about him.” Nick returned.

“Thank you again, for everything.”

Nick approached you, smiling down at you, “This better mean you’ll stop referring to me as Principle Bentley at work.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at that, “We’ll see.”

He narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously but chuckled nonetheless, “Well, I better get outta your hair, let you get some rest.”

You nodded, seeing him to the door. When you unlocked it, Nick stepped out, but before either of you could verbalize a parting, he turned back to you, “And thanks for the date. I enjoyed it.”

“Me, too.” You admitted, unable to hide your smile.

Then Nick crossed back to you, leaning down slightly to kiss your cheek, returning your affection from earlier, “I’ll see you Monday.”

“See you.”

Closing the door as he descended your stairs, you relocked the door before finally kicking your shoes off. It had been a long day. You were looking forward to winding down in bed with your recent Kindle purchase before dozing off. Turning off the lights in the front room, you grabbed a couple pieces of candy from Lou’s basket before retreating to your room, sure to leave the door cracked this time now that Lou was home. Unlike when you closed the door for your nap earlier, you never kept your door closed as Lou slept, always wanting to hear if any sounds came from his room.

Getting undressed & into pj’s, you slipped under the covers of your bed, pulling your Kindle out from your nightstand. Settling against your pillow, you began reading the text but it wasn’t long before you felt your eyelids begin to droop. Then, before you knew it, you slipped into slumber.

A floorboard creaking somewhere in your house woke you with a start. It was dark in your bedroom as you wiped the sleep from your eyes. You moaned at your stiff muscles, having fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position for your neck. Your eyes flashed to your nightstand. The clock flashed 2:24 a.m.

Your mouth was dry again, & you had forgotten to bring a glass of water to bed. Slipping out of bed, you exited your room. You stopped in the hallway to peek into Louie’s room. He slept soundlessly still in his bed. Closing his door most of the way once more, you trailed quietly down your hallway to the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, you approached the cabinets by the sink. You had pulled one open, preparing to reach for a glass, but a sight outside the window above your sink caught your eye. And when you realized what you were looking at, your breath caught in your throat. Nick’s car. It was still parked out front. But more horrifying than that was what lied just beyond it. Across the street, parked in front of your neighbor’s house, was Mr. Acosta’s beloved Chevy.

Before you had time to react, a hand fisting itself in your hair yanked you backwards. A scream about ripped from your throat, but a gloved hand quickly clamped over your mouth before it could.

Panicked tears erupted from your eyes as you felt yourself being dragged backwards, the soles of your slippers failing to catch themselves on the hardwood. You struggled against the strong grasp of the arm that was wrapped around your middle as they yanked you back down the hallway towards your bedroom.

You didn’t need to see them to know who it was. All day, your paranoia had been trying to warn you but you didn’t listen, & then when you did start to listen to it, Nick had reasoned it out of you.

The force threw you onto your bed & you bounced haphazardly atop it before the room flooded with light.

All of the nightmares you had had in the last five years were occurring before your very eyes. And the man that caused them was glaring at you through the slits of a hockey mask. The same eyes your son had.

“Boo.” If the eyes of your ex wasn’t enough of a give away as to who wore the spooky mask, the hollowed out voice behind it was.

He was here.

Rafe had found you.

It took all off your strength & will to not scream in that very instance. Lou was sleeping safe & sound less than twenty feet away from you, totally unaware of the dangers in his home, you wanted it to remain that way. But damn it all to hell if you didn’t fear for your life at that very second.

Fear racked your body & panic ensnared your heart as Rafe Cameron, the ex you had ran out on with his unborn child in your tummy, stood before you.

Tense silence filled the room, save for the sound of your shuddering breaths. Tears blurred your vision as you stared wide-eyed in horror.

Rafe was breathing heavily, his chest moving almost in perfect time with your own. Your eyes fell to his hand, the glint of a familiar looking knife catching in the light.

He had been here all along. From the beginning. The cat store, Mr. Acosta’s truck, Lou’s stabbed pumpkin, & the man in the mask who stared at you on the street. All of it Rafe. All of it your past finally catching up to you.

“Rafe…” You shakily cried.

He cocked his head, the mask only adding more fuel to your nightmare. And though the mask kept his face hidden, you knew well enough that the man behind the mask was carrying a face full of fury. It was a face you never forgot.

He raised a single gloved finger then, wiggling it slowly at you. Then he brought that same finger to the mouth of the mask. Shh, he was telling you.

Tears burst from your eyes as you bit your lip to keep from whimpering out loud.

Don’t make him angry, do as he says. Lou is depending on you.

But images of Lou sleeping in his bed just down the hallway flooded your mind. Rafe was blocking the door. You wouldn’t have a chance to slip by him & race down there, & even if you did, you’d lead him right to your son. If you did that, there was no saying what he would do next, but you knew Rafe Cameron was capable of deadly things, & you were determined to keep your son ignorant to that.

It took every amount of restraint you could muster up not to run for your son, to shield him from the devil that snuck into your home. You kept a baseball bat hidden beneath your pillows. It had always been there, & only on rare occasions in the past did you feel the need to bring it out when something went bump in the night. But those bumps always turned out to be nothing. This wasn’t nothing. It was time to really use it.

Rafe only remained standing before you, his tall & solid frame filling the space of your room like a sleep paralysis dream. Though he wore a thick jacket to keep warm, you could see that he had grown over the years. He had always been tall, towering over you, but he was slender as well. Not anymore, though. It was obvious that he had gotten into the habit of working, adding muscles to his already destructive strength.

Swallowing the scream that desperately wanted to erupt from you, you kept your voice hush as you spoke, needing to distract him with your words as you very slowly, very subtly inched your fingers towards your pillows.

“What are you doing here?” It was a stupid question, you, especially as well as he, both knew why he was there. But you didn’t care. Just keep his mind distracted.

But he said nothing, just shook his head once.

You breathed heavily & sharply, your fingers managing to have slid under your pillow without drawing his attention, desperately seeking out the cool, metal touch of the bat.

“You shouldn’t have come here.” Your voice shook as you spoke, “You should’ve let me go.”

But Rafe exhaled heavily at that.

A relieved, quiet gasp parted your lips when your fingers finally found the bat, fiercely gripping the handle of the weapon.

Dropping your eyes to the open door behind him, you frowned, “Lou?”

Rafe turned around at that, expecting to see your son standing in the doorway, but it was only a fake-out.

Gritting your teeth, you yanked the baseball bat & raised it above you, quickly rushing to your feet to stand atop your bed.

You let out a war cry as you swung the bat downwards, aiming straight for Rafe’s skull. But he spun around in time to duck. The full weight of your swing made you stumble & one of your feet slipped off the bed. You clambered harshly to the wooden floor, your grip on the bat still tight, but Rafe snatched you by the back of your neck, ripping you upwards. You blindly swung the bat a second time but you felt a force catch the other end before tearing it from your grasp.

“No!” You cried out as Rafe threw against your dresser, a picture of you & Lou toppling over in the impact.

You threw yourself back, crab-crawling backwards as Rafe marched towards you, now your bat in one hand, his knife in the other.

“Rafe, don’t!” You screeched once you felt the wall against your back. But he only continued moving towards you. As he did, he tucked his knife away & raised the bat.

Fear choked you as you watched your own weapon of defense prepared to be used on you. You raised your arms, readying yourself to protect your face & head from the blow. Your eyes were squeezed shut, waiting for the whisper of air as the bat swung before reaching you…but it never came.

Breathing fearfully, you fluttered your eyes open.

The room was empty. Rafe was nowhere in sight.

“Lou.” Your voice shook with the realization.

You threw yourself forward onto your feet, getting ready to race after Rafe, but just before you reached the doorway, Rafe appeared again filling the space with his large frame. But he wasn’t alone.

To your horror, he had another before him, on their knees.

Duct tape was wrapped securely around Nick’s face, his mouth & most of his nose covered to suppress his grunts. His forehead was swollen & bleeding, evident of him having been attacked by a deadly force. Nick was unable to fight back, as his hands too were securely taped before him.

A shocked gasp left you as you backed up, taking in the nightmarish sight.

Rafe entered the room, pushing Nick forward until he fell face-down onto your floor. Nick groaned on impact before struggling to roll himself over onto his back. It was then that you noticed his legs were taped at the ankle.

Fresh tears breached your eyes as you peered at one of your only friends in the neighborhood. You made to move closer, to shield Nick from Rafe but as you did, you felt the cool touch of your bat catch the underside of your chin. Your eyes trailed the length of it until it led you to Rafe’s hand & arm, thus his face.

He shook his head once.

Shaking, you backed away as Rafe stepped closer.

Nick, the whole time, trying to speak but his words were unable to be made out behind the tape. His flashing between you & your ex with a mixture of fear & anger.

“Don’t hurt him.” You begged, “He has nothing to do with this. Please, just let him go, I’ll do whatever you ask.”

Rafe sighed at that, his head cocking at your plea.

“Please, Rafe.” You whimpered, snot running from your nose, “I’ll do anything.”

His silence only added to your terror. He wanted you to suffer.

“You’ll watch.” Was all he said. And before you could absorb what he had said, Rafe moved to stand over Nick & raised the bat.

“No!” But your scream died in your throat as Rafe brought the bat down on Nick’s skull.

Cries & choked sobs erupted from you as you watched on in horror as Rafe repeatedly bashed Nick’s face & skull in. You were forced to look away when blood spurted across your face & chest as Nick quickly became unrecognizable.

You covered your mouth as hot tears fell from your eyes & over your hands. Your room was filled with the gruesome sounds of the bat repeatedly making impact with what was once Nick. Squelching of brain matter & the crushing of bones filled your years & you felt bile rise in your throat. A pool of blood threatened to cake the soles of your feet as it grew bigger, forcing you to pull your knees to your chest.

The ghastly sounds stopped after another minute & by then you were numb to everything that was happening. Your body still shook, your mouth hung open in a silent scream, but you were no longer crying. Just staring dizzily at your headboard.

A metallic thud sounded & your eyes betrayed you as you sought the sound out. Your bat rolled towards you, all of it covered in a deep, thick red color, chunks of brain, flesh, & bone texturizing it.

A gag forced it’s way from your mouth & you crawled away from the monstrous sight, unable to look at what Rafe had done. But as you did, you felt Rafe eyeing you from the opposite side of your room. Before you could react, Rafe climbed on top of your, ensnaring you by the back of your head as he dragged you back over the bed. You thought he would’ve stopped there, but your horrors were only reignited when you dropped to the floor & were dragged into the hallway. Towards Louie’s room.

“No!” You yelped but Rafe quickly swung you around to his front, covering your mouth. You smelled the scent of blood on his glove as he kept you quiet, knowing good & well that Nick’s blood was now caking your face.

You fought against Rafe as he yanked you closer to your sons room, terrified that he would do to him what he had just done to Nick. At this point, you didn’t care if Louie woke up, if he woke to the sight & sound of you crying & screaming & fighting against the man from your dreams, thus shattering his childhood. You just needed him to run. Run as far as he could as you once did.

Once in the room, Rafe forced you to face your sleeping son, none the wiser to the danger approaching. You whimpered & thrashed against Rafe, trying every which way to elbow him or knock your head back into his but his strength greatly outmatched yours. It always had.

Rafe paused in the center of the room, crushing your back against your front as he secured you around the waist. He removed his hand from your mouth, but before you could scream a blood-curdling cry to alert your son, Rafe had swiftly produced the knife he carried & pressed the briny edge of it to your throat.

The plastic of the mask moved against your ear, “Don’t scream. Or he’ll scream.”

The threat was apparent. Your horrors were coming true. Everything you had fought for for so long were crumbling around you.

“Don’t.” You gasped, desperately reaching to cling to Rafe’s arm.

Your plea only forced the Rafe to press the knife harsher against your throat. Even you could feel your heartbeat pulsing against it. One swipe & Rafe would end your life before surely ending that of your sons. In a last ditch effort to save your sons life, you revealed the truth that Rafe needed to know.

“He’s your son.” Sobs racked your body as the words parted your lips. “Our son.”

Rafe stiffened behind you.

“Are you going to tell him?” Your mother asked you as she helped you pack one of your go-bags for the great escape.

“No.” You responded despondently, “If he knows I’m on the run with his unborn kid, he’ll stop at nothing, he’ll hurt anyone I love just to get to me.” You knew good & well that he would still do that, but he wouldn’t be in as such a rush otherwise.

Your mother nodded in understanding. But her hands shook fearfully as she folded your clothes before handing them to you.

“Are you going to go through with the pregnancy?” It was a question you asked yourself every day. “I love you, baby, I only want you safe. A kid will slow you down.”

“I know.” You muttered in agreement, “I haven’t decided yet. I just need to get away first before I do anything.”

“You’d deliver the baby alone.” She commented. Another thought that kept you awake at night. “We wouldn’t be there to hold your hand.”

You nodded, tears threatening to fall. Though you were still on the fence about whether or not you’d fulfill the pregnancy, you were leaning towards terminating it. Being on the run was no life for a child. And, your mother was right, the kid would only slow you down if Rafe ever caught up to you.

Your mother’s quiet sobs drew your attention. She had a hand over her mouth in an attempt to hide her cries.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” She peered at you through her tears, “We never wanted this life for you.”

You hugged your mother, & she you. Tightly, lovingly. You burrowed your face into her neck, savoring the form of affection. You didn’t know how long it would be until you ever felt it again, if ever.

“There’s always adoption.”

Rafe had tucked the knife away, but kept you quiet by grasping the column of your throat, your air restricted. He continued holding you just like that as he slowly approached your son, his son. He stood just beside Louie’s bed, his knees pressed against the bedframe as he leaned over to peer at the child’s serene, sleeping face.

You felt as Rafe shuddered before you, his arm outstretched with you on the other end as he kept you at distance from your son.

“My son…” Rafe’s voice was filled with wonder.

Tears continued to fall from your eyes, dripping onto Rafe’s wrist where the skin was exposed between the glove & sleeve of his jacket.

“Our son.” He whispered, but as he did, the grip on your throat tightened. Black dots filled your vision. Rafe turned away from Lou then, facing you head on, his eyes blazing behind the mask.

You kept him from me.

His fury was palpable. You tried to breathe, to speak, but Rafe only continued to claw his fingers into your throat.

Then he began to back you out of the room fast. Your were unable to catch your grounding as your feet tangled beneath you. Before you knew it, you were back in the hallway, your back pressed harshly against a wall as Rafe used the wall to lift you off the floor, your toes wiggling.

You latched your hands onto his arm, using every bit of strength you had left to try & fight him off.

Rafe glared at you hard through the slits of his mask, his eyes red, watering, filled with betrayal, contempt, & murderous intent.

“We could have been a family.” Rafe breathed out harshly, his grip tightening more than you thought possible. Your vision swayed.

“You took that from me.” Rafe spit from behind the mask.

“Plea—” You choked, the lining of your vision beginning to darken. Your muscles were loosening. Death awaited you. But Lou needed you.

Then Rafe brought his other hand to your throat & squeezed. You thrashed weakly until you felt your consciousness begin to slip. Rafe’s hands around your neck were the last thing you felt before you stopped fighting, your body going limp.

“He’s my family now.”

A cry tore from your throat as doctors & nurses alike rushed around you. A stinging, hot pain shot up your spine as you felt your insides contort & cramp within you. Your legs were splayed open, blood staining the white sheets that kept you from seeing what happening down below.

“She’s losing blood!” A voice yelled.

“Get the baby out!” Another responded.

“We’re gonna lose both!”

Tears erupted from your eyes, blurring your vision as you clung to the sheets of the hospital bed, your throat raw from screaming.

Another pinch & you screamed again, sweat coating your face.

And then cries filled the room, Lively cries of a baby having been born. You collapsed against the mattress, your body weak.

“Baby’s out, we got him, he’s okay!”

You felt your vision go in & out, but you reached your hand out blindly in search of your child.

“It’s a boy.” A soft voice neared you. Cries continued to fill the room, but they grew closer to you.

“It’s your boy.” A nurse appeared in your vision as it swayed.

In her arms, she held something small as it wriggled about in her arms. A single hand stuck out in search of something.

Then your fingers touched, & the small yet mighty grip of the child clung to your index finger.

A weak smile crossed your lips, “Louie.”

But your hand fell as you felt your heart rate slow.

“We’re losing her!”

“Louie.” You whispered, his name like a dream on your tongue.

A gasp choked you awake & you shot forward. Tears coated your cheeks & you were breathing heavily. You winced at the burning, raw sensation within your throat.

The room, your room, was filled with morning sunlight. Your eyes flashed fearfully around the room. You were still in your home.

Lou!

Launching yourself forward, you halted to peer at the floor near the foot of your bed. It was empty. No body, no blood, no bat.

You frowned. It wasn’t a dream, though. You touched your fingers to your neck, the skin tender as you did.

He had been here, he had!

Racing out of your room, you stumbled down the hallway to your son’s room, “Louie!” You screeched, despite the pain it caused you as you did, your throat burning in response.

But your fears were instilled as you charged into your son’s room to find his bed empty.

“Louie, baby!” You cried, retreating from his room & tumbling down the hallway, “Baby, where are you?!”

At the mouth of the hallway, you halted, eyeing your son at the counter bar. His back was to you as he ate pieces of candy from his pumpkin basket.

“Louie!” You released a relieved cry & approached him. But before you could reach him, another figure appeared in the corner of your eye.

Rafe rested against a counter opposite your son, a mug of coffee in his hands. He was barren of any mask or clothes from the night prior. He grinned wryly at you, challenging you to attempt anything.

You eyed him warily, furiously as you continued moving slowly towards your son.

Lou looked back at you then, a chocolatey smile gracing his youthful features.

“Morning, Mommy!” He greeted in his cheerful tune.

Dropping your gaze from Rafe, you peered at your son. Closing the distance, you hugged him to your chest, crying into his hair as you kissed him repeatedly.

“Don’t be mad. Daddy said I could have candy for breakfast.”

You shook against your son as you raised your eyes to that of your ex’s.

“That’s right.” Rafe smirked, crossing the kitchen to where the two of you were. You pressed Lou closer against you, your hands gripping him tightly, ready to shield him from Rafe.

“And you can have it for lunch & dinner & dessert.” Rafe grinned down at your son, his son.

“What the fuck do you want?” You sneered, uncaring if Lou heard the fear in your voice.

Rafe eyed you then, “What we all should want.”

He peered at your son then, “To be a family.”

The thought unnerved you.

“If you don’t get out of my house, I’ll—”

“Careful.” Rafe cut you off firmly, before casting his eyes to an object on the counter only inches away from his fingers. The knife.

“Sorry, buddy. Mommy had a bad night.”

You felt as Louie stared up at you then, “Was it the bad man from your dreams again?”

Rafe’s eyes stared coldly into your own.

“Yes, baby.” You replied, your voice shaky.

“But you’re okay now.” Louie attempting to soothe you as he fingered your hair, “Daddy is here to protect you.”

His innocence, still intact as grateful as you were, only made you fearful of when Rafe would surely snuff it out.

“That’s right, Louie.” Rafe peered between the two of you, “Daddy’s home, & we have a lot of catching up to do.”

this is 7/10 requests from my 500 followers celebration request opening!

fuck. that's all i have to say.

big thank you to @namelesslosers for making this fucking AWESOME request, i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it, please be sure to share your thoughts w me.

as always! drop a comment, reblog w reviews, or talk to me in my ask box. this is one doozy of a dark fic that has me on edge just waiting for your feedback. so please provide some.

thank you for reading!

oona<3

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

taglist: @jsrafesgirl @bunnycvnts @ditzyzombiesblog

to be added to a taglist read rule 11 here. requests will be dismissed otherwise.

#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!fic #dark!fanfiction #non con fic #outer banks fanfiction #dark!outer banks #something wicked this way comes

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bullet-prooflove · 1 month

Text

Rough: Frank Castle x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @juliannatryon @beardedbarba @crazy4chickennuggets @wooshwastaken @justreblogginfics @anime-weeb-4-life @pleasurebuttonwrites @annetje @adaydreamaway08 @est1887 @multiflixshelves @thanossexual @bonsaijoons @spookyboogyuniverse @ankhmutes @spaghettificationandpretzels @trublu2u @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @skyesthebomb @viridianphtalo @yezzyyae @casa-boiardi @lulawantmula @vermillionwinter @notanotherpotter @yousigned-upforthis @toheavenwmydrms @wabi-sabi1090 @issieruby @darkangelforever333

It’s late when you turn up at Frank’s door. You don’t expect him to be home, he never is at this time. He’s usually out on patrol or on the hunt. You can tell he’s been sleeping when he opens the door. His dark hair is ruffled, his eyes a little blurry. He’s wearing a black vest that clings to his frame over grey sweatpants.

“Angel…” He murmurs as he opens the door to let you inside.

You have him up against the wall before he even closes it, your mouth is on his as his back impacts against the plaster. You’re a strong little thing, he forgets about that sometimes. He thinks it’s because it’s been a while since the two of you actually tussled.

He remembers the last time, the scrape of gravel across his face as your knee dug into his back. He’d been both pissed off and proud because the two of you had been sparring since the night Lou Beretti sent those thugs after you and you’d come a long way since then. Not a single person had got the drop on him throughout his tenure as The Punisher but then his scrappy little cop from Queens had pulled the rug out from underneath his feet and dumped him in the drunk tank for the night because he was ‘interfering’ with her investigation.

Now he stays out of your shit, and you stay out of his.

When you bite his lower lip, he moans into your mouth, his hips surging forward so that you can feel his hard cock straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. He switches positions, pinning you against the wall with his muscular form. His forehead comes to rest against yours, his breathing ragged as your hand encloses on his wrist guiding his large hand up so that his palm covers your throat.

“Do your worst.” You say, pressing down on his fingers, forcing them to dig into the soft underside of your throat. “Treat me like I’m your whore.”

He looks into your eyes, and he sees the intensity in your gaze. You get like this sometimes, when things have gotten dark, and you need to feel something. He’s been there, he knows what it’s like to feel hollowed out, numb. You need him to take care of you tonight, to fuck all of the thoughts right out of your head.

“Safe word?” He questions, his thumb tracing over the shape of your lips.

“Daisy.” You murmur and he smiles.

It’s the first flower he ever gave you.

His kisses are bruising, forceful. His tongue thrusting into your mouth as he tears the clothes away from your body. He pins you down on the bed, the heat from his naked flesh rolling over yours as he forces your legs apart with his thigh. Your wetness smears against the hard muscle and your back arches as you try to generate a little more friction against your clit.

“Can’t help yourself can you?” He mutters into your ear as he grips your jaw and tilt your head away from him baring your throat. “Need my cock that badly huh?”

You don’t respond and he doesn’t expect you to. When he’s with you he can’t help but run his mouth but that’s not what you need tonight. It’s not about the words, it’s about the physicality, the sensation. He isn’t gentle when he enters you, he does it with one firm stroke, filling you entirely and the noise you make, fuck he nearly comes right there and then.

It gets rough after that.

Your nails rake up his back, the sting of it intermingling with the ecstasy as he fucks you like you’re nothing to him, just a vessel for his own pleasure.

“Harder.” There’s a bite to your voice, a savageness. “Make me feel it.”

He raises to the challenge, his muscular arm wrapping around your waist, gripping you in place as he uses you like his personal fucktoy.

It’s brutal, violent. The slapping of skin resounds through the air, the sound mixing with your hitched breathing as he thrusts inside of you hard and deep.

“Feel that?” He mutters against your skin, his lips brushing over the teeth marks he’s left on your shoulder. “That’s what you do to me, drive me so fucking crazy I can’t control myself.”

You’re close, so close he can fucking taste it. It’s in the way that pretty cunt of yours clenches around his dick, the scrape of your teeth as you bite down on his shoulder hard enough to break the skin. You drag him over the edge with you, his release spilling into you as he grasps your hips, holding them flush against his own. He doesn’t stop, he fucks it deeper, marking his territory because you’re his, you’ll always be his and in that moment the animal in him needs you to know it.

“That’s it my angel, take it.” He murmurs, his palm coming to rest on the back of your neck as he holds you against him. “Take it all.”

Love Frank Castle? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #marvel #punisher #the punisher

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fluloa · 1 year

Note

okay well now i’m going to be the one to ask you for the step!dad jake request bc I NEED IT, your jake fics are god tier fr

it’s time that i hop onto the wagon. also i have hadf a few glasses of wine

warnings — praise, stepcest, masturbation, rough fingering/fuck, little bit of awkward step-daddy jake, in heat shit, stomach bulge, daddy kink

fingers stuffed in your cunt and legs spread wide open, you hadn't expected for the flaps of your marui's pod to fling open.

"holy mother of eywa—" jake curses, shrieking at your dazed, whiney state with your really wet and bare pussy on display and he swings the flap back shut. you scream as well, embarrassment shaking through your system but it's immediately numbed by your heat fizzing up your body, stilling your mind and forcing your thoughts to only focus on your orgasm that you can't reach.

the smell of you reaches jake's nose, your sweet caramel-like aroma fogging up his senses. he understood now. why you had been stooped up in your moss of bed for the past few days, why you were so distant at dinnertime, why you had been avoiding him so much.

you were in heat.

his poor babygirl, fingering her pussy while she whined and withered in utter torture. that's why you were hissing with pain. not because you were hurt or sick, but because you were in fucking heat.

then he realizes you haven't stopped, by the continued noises of small gushing and pathetic high-pitched whimpers. "hey, sweetheart?"

you only whine in reply.

jake clears his throat, trying so hard not to focus on the way your pussy messily quelches each time your fingers thrust inside of it. he re-adjusts his loincloth, cringing at his growing bulge pressing up against it. "does it hurt? baby?"

"oh," you grit out a moan, and jake can hear the way you kick your feet against the woven ground. "mmmhm... daddy, 's hurts."

"didn't catch that. what was that?"

"it hurts," you groan. "please, daddy, come.. in here. i need- i nee... i need..."

jake gently pries open the flap of the pod once again, creeping his head past it and there you are, just like before, fucking yourself dumb with your tiny fingers. he clicks his tongue, crawling to your aid and he runs a hand up your arm, and you fucking shiver at it. your tail twirls ferally, and with the hand that isn't tied up in your cunt, you use it to slap it onto his arm and drag him towards you, piling him on top of you.

"tell me what i can do, babygirl. how long you been hurtin' for?" he whispers, and you can't even reply, only jutting your legs further apart.

jake is still unsure what to do, even though the solution is right there in front of him, right in between your glistening thighs. your smell is intoxicating him, telling him to just pick you up by your legs and fuck his cock into you so hard you see stars. "i want it," you rasp out, looking up at him with your big eyes that you know always gets him to give in and give you what you want. and right now, it's his cock.

"uh- for now, you can hop on my thigh. that sound good? yeah?" jake reasons, and you push out a reckless nod. he rolls you over with him, now laid out on his back and you practically pounce on his thigh, your gush of warm wetness immediately spreading along his skin. he bites back a groan.

you instantly start grinding your hips, letting your head fall back as your body sways, your pussy gliding along his thigh and rubbing at your puffy clit. fuck, if he wasn't hard before, he is now. hard as rock. watching his little princess ride his thigh like an animal, like a slut. it shakes him up in way more ways than one. the thick muscle of his thigh does absolute wonders for you, the amazing friction of your clit catching on the tough of his muscle making your eyes quite literally roll back.

"that's it, that's my girl. fuck yourself on me like that. using dad's big thigh for your pussy, hey? good fuckin' girl," he jumbles, sliding his hand on your hips, now helping you sharpen the desperate rocks of your body and you moan loudly.

your boobs bounce each time your hips roll, your hands trembling as they support your body on his chest and your fingernails digging into his blue skin. you're panting out heavy, quick breaths as you try and find words, "can... i..."

"hey, hey, 's 'right. use your words slowly for me." jake reassures smoothly, running a hand up your thigh and rubbing his thumb into your hot skin. "you close?"

"no," you hiss lowly through your gritted teeth. your words are filled with sobs, a sweet twist with desperation that has jake's dick twitching under his loincloth. "your cock."

"want my cock?" he asks, letting a dark and quiet chuckle slip past his lips, "don't know if you'll be able to ride that one, sweetheart."

"then fuck me with it," you manage to blow out, taking a hand and slipping it to palm his cock, tented up and ready for a pussy to plunge into. your pupils widen immensely, tail whipping up in excitement and your riding quickens, moving your cunt faster on his thigh. "please, daddy. pleasepleaseplease."

"might hurt a little. promise you won't cry?" jake coos, letting his finger trail up the smooth skin of your belly.

"promise," you rush, speeding onto your back and splaying out your body for him. funnily, your top is still strapped to your body. a bit disheveled, but it's still on. jake changes that though, as he yanks it off of your shoulders and flings it across the room. he then presses kiss to the middle of your shoulder, his hand shifting down to play with your pussy, striding a long finger up your slit and gathering some of your slick onto the pad. you whine at the much needed attention, finally getting a touch that is not your own, but your stepdad's.

he wastes no time in pushing a finger in, and then another. the girth of his digits stretch out your viscid walls, heighten your breath and make your pussy pulse in delighted appreciation.

"am i making you feel better, baby? feelin' good?" jake murmurs, and you can feel the side of cock rub up the inner of your left thigh. "think you're ready for dad's cock?"

"yes," you cry, your back arching off the ground as your mouth agapes.

"okay, okay," jake gives your cheek a messy smooch, untying his loincloth with ease and lining up the tip of his cock at your sopping opening. then he slides it in, pushing past your tight pussy and forcing the thick of his length inside of you. you let out a strangled mewl, your ankles kicking at the back of his legs and he catches the way your lips tremble. "ah-ah, baby— what'd i say about crying?"

"i'm not. i'm not crying, daddy." you beg with your voice meek, your cunt wrapping around him tight as if the body part itself did not want to let him go. milking his cock perfectly, he decides to start a slow rock of his hips, a soft pace of back and forth in your pussy. your legs are shaking as they shift to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer and encouraging him to push his cock further into your tummy.

"big ass bulge in your tummy from me. ouch, hey? that's daddy's cock in there, pushing your skin up like that." you're compelled to look at where your bodies meet, and you glare at the bump forming and deforming each time his cock glides into you, big and pointy and it only drives you faster to your release.

jake scoops an arm beneath you and around your back, using it to start bringing you down onto him, speeding up his thrusts little by little. a high moan breaks from your sore throat, hands shifting recklessly as you struggle to find a place to rest them.

"over my back, baby." he says, grabbing your arms himself and swinging them over the broad of his back. "there we are."

he leans down and seals your lips in a harsh kiss, tongue sponging out to dance along your hot one. it feels so wrong, so vivid and bad, that you can't help but let out a pathetic whine because of it because you love everything about it. jake fastens his pace, now rutting up into you hard and rough, moving your body with his as your loud noises muffle by the wrap of his aggressive tongue.

you're meeting his animalistic thrusts with your own, only they're more smaller and choppy because scrap before, you're getting fucked dumb now. your stepdad's cock driving in and out of your pussy so ruthlessly, you're going to see stars. literal stars.

"close?" jake mumbles against your mouth, his tone twinged with a sudden lick of his own desperation.

"mhm," you slur, gripping onto him as you attempt to have his cock impossibly hit deeper inside you.

“come all over daddy’s cock then,” he deepens the kiss, angling his head to the side slightly as a thick lock of his hair falls down in front of you. “wanna see my little girl come undone,” he pants.

that sets you off, has your orgasm exploding out of you and pussy gushing around jake’s dick. it shakes your entire body, smacking you with absolute bliss and all you can do is moan, feeling the tears rim your eyes. suddenly, jake is scooping out of you and groaning, dumping his load in his bunched up loincloth beside him.

you lay still beneath jake, panting like crazy and so is he, leaning an elbow on the ground as he attempts to catch his breath. eventually, he ends up collapsing to the ground, and he takes you with him. too fucked out to care, you slump your head against his chest. he tucks a lather of hair behind your ear, kissing the smooth skin between your shoulder and neck.

he doesn’t think it hurts anymore.

#jake sully smut #avatar the way of water #jake sully #jake sully x reader #dilf jake sully #jake sully imagine #james cameron avatar #avatar 2 jake sully #stepdad jake sully #jake sully x reader smut #so what im a sucker i gave in #yall already know i had to #STEPDADDY JAKE SULLY #jake sully oneshot #jake avatar smut #eat children EAT

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bettyfrommars · 1 month

Text

Death Becomes Us

Part 10: The Man Who Made a Monster

vampire!Eddie x supernatural!Fem!Reader

masterlist playlist

WC: 7.6k

18+ONLY, MDNI, mention of wounds, car accidents, a bit of body horror, angst, guns, gunshot wounds, reader gets physically hurt (but bounces right back), blood, drinking blood, allusions to smut, evil men, supernatural powers, a demobat fren, fear of the unknown, a fire, werewolf!Steve, Dr. Brenner. References to one of my favorite 80's shows, the Incredible Hulk with Lou Ferrigno, and mid-90's MTV. Tiny references to FOI that you won't even notice if you haven't read the book.

Summary: Eddie, Jareth, and Steve come to your rescue, but do you even need to be rescued? Bad men surface and reader finds strength she never knew she had. Eddie confesses more than one secret to us, and the tension is thick. Reader is called Dove as a nickname.

Author's Note: I covered quite a few bases in this chapter, but there is still a lot to explore in the next and final part. We get to see reader in action and get some much-deserved satisfaction. I 've been staring at it for so long, I really hope you have fun reading this, love you. As always, Jareth's face claim is Jamie Campbell Bower.

-----

this starts right where Part 9 left off

Eddie snatched his keys and shoved Steve out the door before he quickly put some food down for Dio and locked the dead bolt.

Steve called shotgun in the air, vaulting over the hood like an extra from the movie Grease, making Jareth roll his eyes. “Is he part werewolf or labrador?” Whispering under his breath to Eddie, but Eddie just nudged him out of the way.

Jareth paused on the opposite side of the Pontiac GTO. “We should go on foot, it would be faster,” hinting to the lightning-speed with which vampires moved.

Eddie inclined his head to Steve. “Not when we’ve got the pup with us.”

“Fuck you,” Steve sneered, brushing back a flop of hair from his forehead. “I can keep up with you two geezers, trust me.”

“What if I just kill him and rid us of the dead weight,” Jareth grumbled.

“You can try,” Steve bit, growling deep in his chest.

“Enough!” Eddie snapped, swatting the top of the car with his hand. “Everyone get in and hold the fuck on. We’re goin’ for a ride.”

—----

Heat scorched through your veins like lava, and as your eyes fluttered open, you passively wondered if the car was on fire, and you were about to be cooked alive.

But

You were no longer in the vehicle. Squeezing your eyelids tight to find the memory, recollection came flooding back as your fingers curled into dirt, cheek pressed into the forest foliage. There might have even been a pinecone acting as a pillow at your ear.

The muscles in your arms and shoulders throbbed, not to mention the feeling of your skull being cracked open by a catastrophic neurological event. A migraine to rival all migraines.

You remembered being taken…the conversation about Brenner…and Bela…

Bela!

You called her name, but it came out as nothing but a puff of air, a whine deep in your chest.

What if she got hurt in the crash? What if she —

The crash!

Adrenaline flushed through you like a swarm of bees and you sat up, cracking your stiff neck as you went, and your head swam.

Where the fuck were you?

A car passed a few yards away on the highway and you realized you’d been tossed into a ravine. In the distance, the SUV you’d been kidnapped in was on its back and smoking as if something inside had caught fire. Where was that awful witch and the man who was driving?

A memory of ripping the door off by its hinges and climbing out of the vehicle flashed behind your eyes, but that was impossible. You must’ve been able to jump out and then hit your head or something. You weren’t turning green and ripping out of your clothes; you were no Lou Ferrigno.

You moved your legs to make sure they worked, and soon you were on your feet, using tufts of grass to crawl along as if you were about to fall off the earth.

In the distance, thunder rolled.

—----

“Turn here, take the shortcut!” Steve shot his hairy arm between the two seats, pointing to right after the stop sign.

“I know what I’m doing!” Eddie roared. “Just sit the fuck back and stay cool.”

Eddie could feel you, and his heart was jackhammering in his chest.

He floored the gas, tires squealing as they ghosted the road, peeling down the old highway through the woods that barely anyone used anymore. The velocity shot Steve back against his seat, and Jareth’s fingers dug into the console while music from Sisters of Mercy blared from the stereo.

“We’re close,” Eddie lowered his chin, laser focused on the scene ahead of him. He could feel that familiar static fill his body whenever he was in your vicinity.

You were not the first human whose blood he’d tasted, not by a long shot. In fact, for the first few years after he’d been made vampire, he didn’t care about himself or anyone else, and it seemed there wasn’t a willing human in a 100 mile radius that he hadn’t tasted.

But with you, it wasn’t even about your blood.

You made him feel a certain type of way that he’d been missing for over a decade, perhaps even his whole life.

The clouds trembled, and a crackle of lightning shot a silent burst of light through the midnight sky. All three of them could smell the wreck before it was ever in view, and Eddie released his foot on the gas to slow down a bit.

—---

You stumbled onto the main highway, and the headlights came at you too fast to understand what was happening.

Everything was so bright, it hurt your eyes. It made you swipe your hands in the air and groan, fighting the illumination as if it were a tangible enemy.

The car coming at you screeched on its brakes, twisting to the side so that it wouldn’t hit you, skidding sideways.

In a blink, you recognized the stunned faces on the other side of the windshield.

—---

The other two men in the car didn’t see that it was you at first—but Eddie knew. He’d witnessed those shock white eyes before, void of color or pupil.

Electricity snapped off you, as if you were a live wire. It crackled and skipped off of your skin like the lightning that appeared above them in the sky.

One of your arms was twisted unnaturally backwards at the elbow, but you somehow flexed the joint back into place as you stood there, correcting your posture. You stood on one side of your foot as if your ankle was broken, but then that righted itself with a sickening twist. Your limbs jerked like the walking dead trying to move for the first time after reanimation. All of this, and yet your face appeared unphased, as if you were impervious to the pain.

Your face was set in surprise and fear and confusion, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest to be able to hold you.

With a curse, he slammed the GTO to a halt, tires burning rubber as they locked and skidded on the asphalt.

Something told him you were fairly invincible, just like him, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

Steve slid across the backseat, knocking his head on impact, and Jareth’s fingers dug so deep into the console that they left puncture marks.

Eddie didn’t have time to think about what the other two were doing or the danger of leaving his car in the middle of the highway, he threw the gear into park and jumped out to check on you.

From above, there came a loud squawking, and Bela soared down from where she’d been circling in the sky to land on your shoulder with a weight that almost made you lose your balance.

—-----

Bela bared her teeth and screeched at whoever was approaching from the vehicle. The headlights were too bright, and your ear canals were on fire with hot noise. A loud, shrill ringing filled your skull cavity like sharp a million tiny pinpricks.

But then you recognized his silhouette

You’d know it anywhere

“Eddie?”

“It’s me,” he assured you. “Are you hurt?”

Bela settled once she knew it was him, lowering her wings, and his body came to block the light so that you could see the distress in his face. He reached a hand out to touch your arm, but then he yanked it back with a hiss. It was like you’d given him an electrical shock, with volts like those from a cattle prod or taser.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” you hesitated, hoping he’d dare to touch you again.

And he did, rushing closer without pause, not caring about how bad the last one stung. He cupped one hand at your jaw while the other went to your hip, searching your mouth for temptation's sake. “Let’s get you home.”

He got zapped a few more times from seemingly stray sparks, in the chest and the side, making him wince, but he did not relent. It was a good thing the violent stabbing did not force him back, because just then your knees gave out and you slumped into his arms. Bela took to the sky again before landing on the hood of the GTO with another high pitched wail, wings spanning out as if she were about to conduct an orchestra.

Eddie dropped to his knees on the ground next to you, careful to protect your head from the pavement with his hand. In wolf form, Steve trotted over to nudge your face with his snout and lick your cheek with a whimper.

“She’ll be okay,” Eddie took his jacket off and made it into a pillow for you, before angling to sink his fangs into his own wrist. “She needs blood.”

“Use mine,” Jareth hovered nearby, and you could vaguely hear them arguing as your adrenaline crashed. “I’m older, my blood is stronger.”

“No,” Eddie growled, and then the two bared their teeth at each other.

Eddie knew that, more than anything, Jareth wanted to be in your head, to be linked to you in the same way he was. To know where you were at all times and for you to have…those special dreams about him. No way in hell would Eddie let that happen.

He’d already punctured a vein and had his tattooed wrist over your mouth, leaking his life force into your trembling lips until you were able to latch on and suck.

Jareth’s stare bore into Eddie. “Maybe I should tell her you’re the reason Brenner knew about her in the first place.”

Eddie glared at him. “You don’t know fuck about it.”

Jareth smirked. “I know more than you think about the little ‘job’ you were hired to do for him.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed and he shushed him. “This isn’t the place for this, Jareth.”

A car had to navigate around the GTO to continue down the old highway, and the person shouted their disapproval, but then the driver slowed once he spotted you on the ground and the SUV that was rolled over on its side in the distance.

Jareth and Eddie turned to him and hissed with their fangs out, glaring at him with obsidian eyes, until he slammed on the gas and sped off in the direction he was headed. Steve growled and chased after the car, keeping up with it for a while before hanging back to sniff around the wreckage that you’d managed to somehow survive.

You mumbled, gurgling on a spurt of blood, and Eddie took his wrist away. Your eyes were closed, but your tongue flicked out to lick more of his essence from your stained lips. Were you conscious enough to know what they were talking about? He’d planned on telling you everything, but the time was never right. He never expected things to get so…messy. Never expected you’d become so…special to him.

Some rich dude offers you to keep an eye on someone for a couple weeks for an abnormally huge chunk of cash, you do it. He’d had no skin in the game when he initially accepted the offer.

Caring about you as much as he did was the last fucking thing he’d expected to happen, but he didn’t know how to make it stop.

Jareth leaned over you to get closer to Eddie. “If you don’t tell her soon, I will, and your little fairytale will be over.”

All Eddie could do was grind his teeth: Jareth was right, he should’ve explained the whole thing to you that night when he’d waited for you to get back from your date with Steve. But by then, he was afraid he’d lose you.

Yet, how could you lose someone you never had?

“We need to get out of here,” Eddie eased you into a sitting position, your head flopped, and then held your chin in his hand. Your eyelids were fluttering and your skin was beginning to cool as the healing properties of his blood took effect.

God, how badly he wanted to press his lips to yours.

“What about the witch?” Jareth stood to full height to look over and see Steve sniffing around the crash. “What if they survived?”

Eddie had you off your feet and lifted in his arms by then, but Jareth was right. As much as he wanted to get you far away from there, he’d watched enough horror movies to know that you never turned your back on a killer until you knew they were dead. Knocking them unconscious with the back of a shovel wasn’t enough; you had to chop their whole head off and throw them in a cement mixer.

Steve morphed back into human form halfway back to the group, butt naked again, to report back on what he’d found.

Eddie waited for him to announce that there was no one in the vehicle and the bodies were gone…

But instead, Steve shook his head. “Looks like they didn’t survive. His neck is broken and she’s—-”

“Are you sure?” Jareth blurted with an air of irritation. “Maybe I should check for myself.”

“I think I know what a dead body smells like, asshole,” Steve grunted, pushing back on Jareth’s chest.

The headlights of another car was approaching, and Eddie reiterated that they needed to get as far away as possible from the scene of the crime. He threw the keys to Jareth, and made Steve sit in front so that he could crawl into the back with you while you healed. Bela billowed into the sky and hovered there, waiting to see where they were taking you so she could follow.

It wasn’t his blood that healed your broken foot or your fractured arm though—you’d done that all by yourself. Maybe you didn’t need him after all, maybe you’d be better off without him.

“Put your pants back on,” Eddie tossed the clothing from the back seat over to Steve. “I don’t need you teabagging the upholstery.”

Next to him, you had your head on Eddie’s shoulder and your hand on his thigh when Jareth sped off just in time to miss being clipped by the oncoming semi truck. It blared its horn just as you lifted your head to look up at Eddie with groggy eyes.

He licked his lips, feeling his throat close up at how near your face was to his.

“Did you save me?” Your voice was strained, sounding like your esophagus was constricted.

Eddie put his hand over yours and you interlaced fingers. “I think you saved yourself,” he mumbled. “You don’t need me.”

“I do,” you said it so fast, and he leaned over even more, thinking maybe he hadn’t heard you correctly. “I do need you.”

Your hand in his, he brought it up to his chest, searching your eyes as an avalanche of words trembled at the tip of his tongue, right there wanting to roll out like a carpet of devotion to you.

He took a deep breath to calm his nerves because he was shaking so fucking bad.

Jareth caught his eye in the rearview mirror and the two glared at each other before Eddie broke contact and wrapped another arm around your shoulders to bring you closer. “We’re almost home,” he hushed, planting his lips to your forehead, blushing at the way you refused to let go of his hand. “I won’t leave you.”

—----

By the time you got back to the trailer park, your energy and strength had been fortified and you urged everyone to go home to let you get some rest, except for Eddie, who’s hand you were still holding as you got out of the car.

The witch and her companion being dead felt too good to be true, and a measure of palpable dread hung in the air. It was unspoken knowledge that Brenner was still after you, and he knew exactly where you lived.

Jareth stepped forward, tipping your chin up with the crook of his finger. “Are you sure you don’t need anything, love?”

“She has me,” Eddie growled.

Jareth fluttered his eyelids in that bored way he’d mastered. “If you’re so concerned, we’d be better off at Sacrament. I can keep her safe there more sufficiently than she’d be in this…” he fanned his hand around a few times, “...this place.”

Bela landed on the railing with a swoosh and squawked.

“I hate to say it, after everything,” you angled toward the steps, exhausted. “But I don’t think this Brenner person is going to stop until he gets what he wants.” You glanced sideways at Eddie. “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me.”

“I’d like to meet this guy myself,” Steve said through gritted teeth.

Jareth flipped the collar of his coat up and ran a hand through his golden hair. “Well, my offer stands. Sacrament is at your service if you should require shelter or protection.”

“Sounds good,” Eddie said dismissively, reaching for the railing to cage you away from the two men. “We’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, Jareth,” you told him, and he winked at you, returning the genuine curve of your smile.

And Eddie hated it so much, he wouldn't have been surprised if steam were coming out of his ears like a cartoon villain.

But he let it slide because Jareth could make things fucking awkward in that moment if he wanted to.

You turned to Steve. “Would you like to come in? I don’t have much by way of food, but—”

“He’s fine,” Eddie answered for him.

The two glared at each other for a beat, but then Steve relented. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry. Still, I think I’ll stick around for a while, check the perimeter,” he ignored the tick in Eddie’s jaw and waved at you as he backed up to disappear around the backside of the trailer.

“Hey Harrington, my vest!” Eddie shouted, and it wasn’t long before the denim came sailing through the air to land on the dead lawn near the porch. Eddie bent to pick it up with a huff, and by then Jareth had disappeared into the night.

Now you were finally alone, and as much as it was what he wanted, it made his stomach drop.

Eddie paced the living room a bit before taking a seat, perching precariously at the end of the sofa to bounce his knee and gnaw at his bottom lip.

“Listen,” you took a beer and a half-full bottle of NuBlood out of the fridge to put it in the microwave for him. “I figure there’s no use asking you to leave with people obviously hunting me down, but I really need to take a shower. So just…make yourself at home I suppose?”

The microwave dinged and you walked the warm glass bottle over, and then waited for him to wrap his hand around it, fingers grazing yours, before you spoke. “I feel like there are some things we should talk about.”

Eddie was already nodding. “I’d like that,” he gulped.

Eddie waited until he heard the shower running before he sank down into the cushion and used the remote to turn the TV on. He needed to distract himself from letting his mind wander to how you were absolutely undressing in there, about to be naked and wet and…

He squirmed in his seat and turned the volume up. It was an MTV music video for Metallica’s Until it Sleeps, but he only vaguely cared as he puffed his cheeks for a forceful exhale. In his head, he practiced what he would say, how he would beg your forgiveness, and how he never really understood what this guy Brenner was all about until it was too late…

In the shower, you made the water as hot as you could handle it, leaning into the burn, and stood there for the longest time without moving. Eyes closed, you could feel Eddie step into the shower behind you, sneaking his hands around to pluck at your nipples. “Room for one more?” He rumbled in your ear, just before he nibbled it.

He wasn’t really there, but you couldn’t help but touch yourself with a soapy hand as if he were, biting your lip around a moan.

The water ran cold by the time you were ready to step out, swooshing the curtain aside with a swift swipe of your arm.

The thump of something heavy falling to the ground out in the living room had you straining to hear what it might’ve been as you pulled a clean t-shirt and jeans on. Music videos were on, playing In the Blood by Better Than Ezra, and you called Eddie’s name.

The only response you got was from Bela, and she let out one long screech that felt like it had the power to break glass.

“Eddie?” You shouted this time, flinging the door open to let the steam roll out and fill the hallway. “Bela??”

The door to your trailer was wide open, but Bela was there, scrambling from the back of the couch to perch on your shoulder the second you came into view.

“What happened?” You asked your demobat companion. “He just left us here? Without a word?”

The potted terracotta plant that had once been above the TV right by the door was on the carpet, shattered.

You crossed your arms over your chest, and shivered as you stepped one foot out on the porch to look around, a chill breeze nipping at your flesh. “Eddie? Are you out here? Steve?”

The whole court was eerily silent, even the crickets and frogs were holding their breath.

You backed up into the house, pulling the door shut.

The TV screen went from MTV to static, and you stepped back to stare at it while Bela swished her tentacles around nervously, leaving red, raised scratches on your arm and neck. She was heavy, but you’d gotten used to her weight and hitched our shoulder up to accommodate.

The static changed to the image of a man standing before a black backdrop. He was tall and thin, wearing a business suit with a full head of silver hair.

“Hello Dove,” the man on your TV said.

He was looking right at you.

You glanced around for a weapon, but as if he could read your mind he said. “No need for that, I don’t want to hurt you.” He was handsome in a “trust me”, evil doctor kind of way, but the last thing you felt like giving him was your trust.

“What did you do to Eddie?” It felt stupid, talking to an electronic device as if it were a person, but that was the situation you’d found yourself in.

Brenner said nothing, but you got a bad feeling and swallowed to wet your dry mouth before taking cautions steps over to the window facing his trailer to peel back the blinds.

But you could already see the flames inside, and just then, you smelled the smoke.

His trailer

It was on fire.

“Nononono no,” You chanted, charging for the door.

“Come with me quietly,” the man on the TV said, calmly. “Or your vampire boyfriend will meet the final death.”

You halted in your tracks, glaring down at the older man, nostrils flaring with anger. “Come with you? Where are you hiding?” You chided; hands balled into fist as you cocked your head. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

Brenner looked down before meeting your eyes again. “Your father underestimated the capacity for your powers. I don’t plan to make the same mistake.”

“How did you know my father?” You barked.

Outside, one of Eddie’s windows blew out, glass shattering everywhere, and his curtains went up in flames.

You ran outside and flew down the steps before the man's voice could stop you. Dio, Eddie’s cat, ran by to hide under your trailer.

Maybe Eddie had gone in like a crazy person to save some photos or something, and somehow, he’d gotten trapped in there. Bela took to the sky while you rushed to his door.

But then there he was, staggering out on a dark cloud of smoke, holding an electric guitar in his hand.

“My sweetheart,” he held it up. “I couldn’t let her burn.”

He was smiling at you from the top of his steps, dimples popping, and you could help but mirror it, flooded with relief. He really didn’t care that his whole place was burning, as long as he had Dio, his guitar, and you.

He’d lost much more in his life to a fire once when he was younger, so this one wouldn't sting half as bad.

And it suddenly didn’t matter that some creepy old dude could somehow talk to you through your TV: Eddie was okay.

But then something else happened.

He took the first step, never taking his eyes off of you, but something knocked his shoulder back, like an invisible punch.

And then another and another

The smile on his face quivered and his forehead creased, trying to understand what was happening.

He tucked his chin to look at his torso, and your eyes followed.

Dark blooms were appearing on his shirt like liquid spilled from an inkwell. On his chest, over his heart, from his stomach.

He stumbled down the last two steps and then fell to his knees, dropping the guitar so that he could brace himself with his hand.

Had Eddie been shot?

You didn’t have time to figure that out. Some strange voice in your head told you there was a chance the trailer could explode—or maybe you’d watched too many movies—but you had to get him away from there. He was a vampire, and even if he had been shot, he could heal, but you weren't sure how he would survive his body being blown to bits.

The next thing you knew, you were carrying him, much like he’d carried you in his arms earlier. You didn't need to summon the insane strength; it was just there. There was that buzzing in your skull, and you could feel violent sparks crackling through your muscles.

Everyone was coming out of their trailers at that point, and Dolores was screaming frantically into her phone wearing a nightshirt and curlers in her hair. You didn’t know how long it would take for the fire department to get there, or if there was a possibility that the wreckage would spread to the other trailers.

You put Eddie down on the other side of your hearse and leaned him back against the tire to find there was blood trickling from his mouth, but he still tried to grin at you.

“See,” he sputtered. “You’re like a superhero. You don’t need me.”

“But I do,” tears clouded your eyes while another window blew out from the trailer. You put your forehead to his and your lips brushed together. “Please, don’t leave me. Eddie I—”

“The bullets,” he winced. “They’re silver. My body can’t reject them.”

There were three or four different holes in him there that were steaming as the silver burned him from the inside. You cupped your hand on his jaw, and he grabbed your wrist, turning his head to kiss your palm.

“Here, take my blood—”

You yanked your shirt down to give him your pulsing jugular, but all of a sudden you were forced back by some unseen force, flying through the air until you landed ass first in the gravel and skidded to a stop, rolling over to find yourself face first at the feet of someone wearing a pair of black, shiny shoes and slacks.

“Dove,” a familiar, deep voice said. “We meet again.”

You pushed back, scuttling away to find that it was the man from your TV; he was standing in your trailer park. Flanked by two menacing looking men with bald, tattooed heads, wearing sunglasses. Each of them in suits and ties as if they were the actual Men in Black.

“I don’t know you,” you grumbled, getting to your feet that were bare and bleeding, but healing rapidly. You checked around each shoulder cautiously to see that there was a handful of other men in suits, all of them holding guns, and then a tall guy with a scalp of strawberry stubble, no more than 20, in a red jumpsuit. The guy had his chin down, eyes pinned on you as if he might shoot lasers from them.

His expression was deceivingly kind. “My name is Martin Brenner. I met you before you died the first time,” he said casually.

“You see, your father and I used to be friends,” he walked a circle around you, before coming front and center again. “He stole valuable information from my laboratory in order to bring you back. You're my property as well, but he decided to keep you from me.”

“My father never mentioned you,” was all you could say. In your peripheral vision, you could tell the others were inching close.

“We could’ve been so great together, Dove. Imagine your contribution to science. And you would not be so uncertain about your powers,” he stepped back to gesture at the boy in the red jumpsuit. “I want to introduce you to Kane. He was reanimated the same way you were, but under my expertise and supervision.”

Kane had a railroad scar on his forehead, and a hand that was a different skin color than the rest of his body. It wasn’t just a different skin tone; it was a body part from an entirely different person.

You thought about all of the love you were raised with, and though your dad fumbled the ball on attentiveness quite a bit, you never doubted how much he cared for you. You were beginning to understand that maybe he didn’t explain what abilities you might have because it would lead you back to Brenner somehow.

The surge of power was growing inside of you, and instead of pushing it down, you let it grow and churn and spill out, creating a type of electrical force field around your body, a vibrating aura of protection.

“Show her what you can do, Kane,” Brenner said.

Not sure what to expect, you watched Kane rubbed his hands together, creating a bright bolt of lightning from the friction, his eyes went milk white, and then he shot an arm out towards the nearest hulking security guard, palm open, and it sent the man in black off his feet, sailing back as if he were hugging an invisible beach ball. He smacked into the side of the opposite neighbor’s trailer with a bone to metal thwack.

Your eyes were fixed for too long on the man slumped in the gravel, and when you turned to face Kane again, he was a few steps closer, peering through his lashes at you with an evil twitch of his lips.

Apparently, you were the next example in his bag of tricks.

Your feet were off the ground before you could process another thought, catching air like a rag doll only to drop down and skid face first into the cold, dry earth.

Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, eh? Lifting into a push up position, you spat dirt and blood from your mouth with a curse.

Gathering yourself up and into a crouch, you vaguely heard Eddie call your name, but he was still rendered temporarily helpless by the silver, and your head was spinning. Not so much from confusion and fear this time, but more…anger.

You nailed Kane with a heated look, and then your hand lashed out in his direction, though he was yards away, and actual sparks flew from your palm, spitting like fireworks.

Kane was pummeled in the gut with a force he obviously wasn’t expecting, and you kept going before he could find his footing again, knocking him down before he could raise a hand at you again..

“How does that feel?” You bit, towering over him.

In a heartbeat, you lifted Kane’s limp body above your head with a roar that you could not believe came from your own mouth. Arching back, you aimed to drop him over the nearby trailer hitch, which would surely break his back, if not kill him, but then you remembered who you were and faltered.

Blinking, trying to quiet the buzzing in your skull, you knew you did not want to kill this boy.

You understood, even under such duress, that he was only doing what he was told.

But Brenner was actually applauding you, pupils blown from the intensity, urging you to keep going, to murder this stranger at his bidding.

You could’ve very easily ended up just like Kane, if not for the love and protection of your father.

Heaving, trying to calm yourself, you threw Kane’s body in the opposite direction, so that he landed on flat ground that would absolutely hurt, but he’d be able to walk away.

Brenner beamed at you like a parent watching their child take their first steps. “You’re stronger than I’d imagined. Your powers have somehow increased since your inception, and I’d love to know why.”

You squared up with him, making him step back to avoid the sparks actively snapping off of you. “What do you want from me?”

You didn’t have to look to know that all of the guns were trained on you.

“I want you to work for me, Dove. We could change the world together, you and I.”

It felt like he was trying to sell you a car, not asking to hook you up to electrodes and make you his own personal soldier.

“Never,” you were calm now, and you wanted nothing to do with this man or whatever he thought he could do for you.

The flames went higher on the trailer, and in the distance, wails of a fire engine could be heard.

You caught sight of Eddie, but he was flat on the ground now and no longer sitting up.

You rushed by Brenner, slamming into his shoulder as you went, but two of the guards caught you by the arms. It felt like they were stronger than normal men, and when they bared their fangs, you realized they were vampires.

Growling, you flung them off of you, and they went stumbling back as if they weighed nothing, as if you were suddenly impervious to their supernatural strength.

“Kill the boyfriend,” you heard Brenner bark at the men. “Use the wooden bullets this time.”

A gun cocked, and you ran a few steps, but then vaulted over Eddie’s body, arms wide, using yours as a shield.

You felt the bullet impact like a dagger in your back, but it was as if it bounced off somehow instead of penetrating. Eddie barked in pain as you covered him, but then he clung to you as you rolled him under the hearse, away from the gunfire.

Caging yourself on top of him, knees on either side of his hips, and stomachs touching, you could feel how weak he was; the silver enabled his body from healing, and you had to find a way to get them out.

You watched the feet of the one with the wooden bullets approach the vehicle, thinking of your next move when Eddie whispered into the side of your neck: “You’re so fucking beautiful—”

If this was the end for him, this was how he wanted to spend it: with you, being able to see your face one last time.

Before you could respond, there came a shrill, tortured scream, and the booted feet you had your eye on stumbled back.

More agonizing screams, until the body in question dropped to the ground, limbs writhing, and you could see that Bela had attached herself to his head like an Alien facehugger.

Only because he was a vampire, he was able to pull her off, but she took most of his flesh and his nose off with her.

Bela took to the sky again, out of view, and they aimed their guns up at her.

“Not so fast, boys,” a new voice rumbled from the shadows. “I want to play, too.”

Eddie’s shallow breaths moving under you, it was all you could do not to cheer out loud when you realized the voice belonged to Jareth.

And apparently, Jareth brought friends; enough to fill the entire courtyard.

They were crouching on the roofs, on cars, everywhere.

Brenner and his crew were surrounded; Bela had gone to get help.

In the woods, a pack of wolves howled their attendance as well.

Jareth pierced the closest vampire in the heart with a wooden stake and he exploded, guts flying everywhere.

As far as the human bodyguards went, the rest was a bloodbath.

From what you were told later, Kane ran, and Brenner tried to get behind the wheel of the SUV, but instead he was dragged into the war zone and drained dry before being ripped limb from limb.

Jareth wanted to keep the doctor in his dungeon to torture him, but a few of the vampires knew of Brenner and the experiments he’d done on their kind over the years. It was all nothing short of sadistic torture, keeping them barely alive so that he could run experiments on them over time and sell their blood for a profit.

They’d been wanting to get their hands on him for a long time.

—-----

By the time the rescue team and fire truck showed up, all of the vampires had evaporated into the shadows, and you’d snuck Eddie up into your bedroom, carrying most of his weight as he was only able to hobble. You collected his guitar as well, and brought Dio inside, since those were the only two things from the burning wreckage, he voiced a care about. With the lights out and the curtains closed, you used a modest bedside reading lamp to assess the damage. While you were concentrating on him, his eyes never left your face, his heart bursting.

“You might have to suck them out,” he cleared his throat. “The bullets I mean. I’m sorry if that’s weird.”

“You mean, weirder than all of the other shit that happened tonight?” You mumbled, coming back from washing your hands. There was still dirt caked under your nails, possibly some blood, but whatever.

“Good point.”

Until you got the bullets out, any blood you gave him would be useless, so without another moment of hesitation, you crawled up on the bed, springs bouncing, and knelt next to his torso, bracing a hand at either side of him. He was burning up around the sight of each wound, and the skin sizzled as the alloy continued to roast him alive.

The first one was at the surface and came out fast, hot metal on your tongue. The next one, under his right nipple, was deeper and you had to suck harder, making Eddie’s toes curl. You spit each out onto the floor, and strings of his blood mingled in your saliva.

One hand behind his head, the other rested at his hip with a thumb in his belt loop. “So, you’re like…the incredible Hulk, but with powers. That’s pretty badass.”

“I don’t know what I am,” you scoffed, sucking out another, and then pausing to watch the openings seal up and heal. “I’m a waitress, that’s all. That’s all I want to be.”

He nodded, musing on how many times he’d wished he could go back and not be a vampire. He wanted to tell you the story of when he was reborn, but that could wait for another time. Now it was time to put some very messy cards on the table.

The last bullet was deep, and you had to swirl your tongue around in the hole to loosen it.

“I have something I need to tell you,” he blurted while your lips were near his belly button.

“Mmmhmm?”

Fuck, here it goes…

“First, I just want to say that I had no idea who this Brenner guy was before, like, a few months ago,” his next swallow felt like he was chugging a grapefruit. “If I’d have known what a creep, he was I never would’ve…”

You stopped what you were doing to raise your head, waiting for him to finish, the final bit of silver still lodged in his abdomen. “You knew of Brenner? Before all this?”

He couldn’t look at you, he had to stare at the ceiling.

“Uh, yeah, that first week you were here, he tracked me down at the chop shop and said he’d pay me a shit ton of money to keep an eye on you. I didn’t ask a lot of questions. As far as I knew, you were his long-lost daughter, or some shit and he wanted to make sure you were safe.”

You sat back on your knees, trying to let that sink in.

He lifted up to brace himself on an elbow, wincing at the sting of the remaining bullet. “I didn’t know you then, that was before we were…” he fumbled with what he wanted to call you and what you actually were, “...a friend.”

“So,” you frowned down at your hands. “You’re the reason I was kidnapped tonight? The reason all of this happened?” Your wide eyes snapped to him. “Did you set me up?”

He sliced his hand in the air a few times, shaking his head vigorously. “No..nope…I had nothing to do with any of this,” he pleaded. “I only reported back to him for a couple of weeks, and then I stopped, really. After that night I first took you to Sacrament, I told him I was too busy to—”

All of the horrific memories were rushing back to you. “What about the Klemp’s? Did you pay them to hurt me or something? So that I’d have to drink your blood and let you into my head?”

Eddie spoke so fast; he stuttered over his words. “No, absolutely not, never! I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. I would never let anyone hurt you like that.”

“But they did hurt me,” you muttered.

Now it was you who couldn’t look at him, working your jaw muscles as you tried to decide which emotion you should be feeling.

“Why should I even believe you?” Your voice was small.

“Please believe me I—”

“If you knew this guy was stalking me, why didn’t you tell me sooner? If you’re as concerned for my welfare as you claim to be?”

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to cry or scream; maybe both.

Eddie didn’t have a chance to answer. You were on your feet at the end of the bed with your arms crossed.

Suddenly, you were shaking, and you couldn’t control it. “After Sacrament, I didn’t see you for a long time, it felt like you were avoiding me. Was that because you no longer had to fake interest in me for your scam?”

Eddie pushed himself up into a seated position, blinking back the memory of how painfully hard it had been to stay away from you for all that time. “No, you have to trust me, that had nothing to do with—”

“Trust you?” You barked a sarcastic laugh. “Tell me why then? Why avoid me for so long, huh? Because you weren’t getting paid to—”

Eddie’s voice wavered and he spoke in a rush. “Because I started to have feelings for you, that’s why. Happy? Because ever since that first day I saw you, you’re all I can fucking think about. Because I can’t even look at another woman without seeing your face, and believe me, I’ve tried. I’ve gotten real good at disappointing people and leaving people behind, and all I know is, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Your lips parted to say something, but he figured what the hell, he might as well scare you all the way off while he was at it.

He relaxed his shoulders and wet his lips. “I never told you that I was made vampire against my will. I died and was brought back, but my heart went cold, and I never thought I’d feel anything for anyone ever again. I didn’t want to feel anything. I should’ve stayed dead, I wanted to be with all of the people I’d lost…”

His suede brown eyes sought your face. “When I’m with you, I don’t feel dead anymore. When I think about you, I feel fragile and human again. Like maybe I’ve got something worth giving away.”

Silence filled the room like helium in a balloon about to burst.

He’d gone for broke, and there was nowhere left to hide. He was officially at your feet, where he’d always been.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered when you didn’t respond right away. “I get it.”

You tilted your head all the way back to stare at the ceiling.

“I dream about you every night,” you admitted on an exhale. “Logically I know it has to do with ingesting your blood, but it’s…it’s more than that.”

He bit at the inside of his cheek, picking at a thread on the comforter. “Every night, huh?”

You gave a few slow nods, and you could almost hear the smile pull across his teeth.

“Yeah, so, blood induced dreaming should only happen a handful of times after it’s ingested,” he said, shifting in his seat.

You kept nodding, since that was something you’d already suspected. “The dreams are always so vivid, I wake up…”

He dared to finish for you after a long pause. “Wanting more?”

“No,” you corrected, turning to face him. “I wake up wishing they were real.”

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I la la la love you all who have reached out to me about this story and continue to cheer it on. Comments, reblogs, and asks about this world mean everything to me.

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