I love her Punkertaker (her pairing name by the way. Awesome, isn't it?) fics to death. Dedicated to her obviously! Hope you enjoy this, chick. By the way, this was originally going to be titled 'Pet' but since she beat me to the title, I had to change it. XD.
Inspired by "VooDoo" by also browngirlwrites. Awesome, isn't she? The only resemblances of these two fics is this is Punkertaker, too and that Phil's gonna get preggers.
The horror isn't going to start until after 3-4 chapters. At least.
Nightshifters
Rated: +18 – violence; sex; drugs; blood and gore; mpreg; language
Summary: Mark's hot breaths were on Phil's neck. "If you touch my pet then I'll kill you all." But those eyes were still murderous set on Phil… P-P-PUNKERTAKER. For browngirlwrites.
Pairings: Punkertaker :D and one-sided Taker/Jeff.
Genre: Supernatural/Horror
Chapter One
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After the Hell in the Cell match, I was wincing in pain, twisting in anguish and suffering, coiling in desolation and distress, but there was no physical pain that could describe the feeling of my title being taken away from me, ripped from my hands, my title, not Mark's. Never Mark's.
He proved that he could make me his bitch out there.
That made anger boil in my blood and I tried to move from my chair but I couldn't. I saw Mark coming towards the locker room, Jeff tagging alongside of him and it sickened me. Jeff had been watching the match, his eyes glowed with gleefulness and I wanted to punch that look off his face, the smile that stretched, the amusement of knowing that he was dating the very man that had broken me into pieces on the inside. He didn't know how much that title meant to me. It gave me a name. It gave me a reason to be around here. I wanted to have power. I wanted to have control but now, I didn't. I lost all of it. Saw my kingdom tumbling down.
Breaking.
Smashing into nothing.
Shattering.
Two hours ago, I had gotten a call from my brother, saying that he couldn't pick me up and that angered me. My car was under works, those mechanics told me that I had to wait a week or so until I could get my car back and now I wondered how I was going to get to the hotel. I groaned at my own thoughts but I had no other choice. I looked as Jeff and Mark shared a kiss and my stomach flopped with twisted disgust. I wanted to tell them that to get a room but instead, slurred grunts escaped from my mouth. Jeff broke the kiss and stared at me, with a scowl, he walked towards me and a grin appeared on his face and without saying a word, I knew that he was mocking me. "So, how's the World Heavyweight Champion? Oh wait, you lost that, didn't you?"
"Get out of my face," I snapped and I was ready to punch him but I restrained myself. I didn't have the energy to start a fight and I sucked in a deep breath, "I need you to drive me to my hotel, can you do that?"
"I can, but why should I?" there was an edge to his voice, stirring in his eyes, too many emotions and we knew how much we hated each other just by the look we both gave each other. The hatred trapped into his eyes for me…I almost knew that I was mirroring it without having to look into the mirror. I heard Mark chuckle, his arms crossed as he walked towards Jeff and put a hand on his shoulder, "well, Jeff, you can gloat about how he was running away from me in the cell."
Jeff's smile turned even wider and I didn't think it was possible until I had seen the grin and he nodded his head at his boyfriend, giving him one last kiss before turning to me. "Come on, let's go, straight edge bitch!"
He knew that I didn't want to fight but that didn't make me just stand there and take his insult so I had insulted him back, countless of times, mumbling curses and swears under my breath as I made my way into his car. My muscles were aching and I felt like each one of them was tearing into pieces as I slipped inside of his car, and he slipped towards the other side.
During the drive, all was silent, shockingly.
Then just when I was about to nod off to a much needed sleep, he started talking, "why do you want this straight edge life? Don't you go out? Live a little? I know that you're the type of guy that goes with a group and at the end of the night, he drives his drunk friends home because he's still sober. Don't you have a little fun once in a while? You said 'straight edge means that I'm better than you' all the time but what makes you so different? That you're boring and would rather complain about junkies other than just get over with the fact that druggies will always remain druggies and junkies will be junkies—"
"Hey," I snapped, my eyes set on his face, "straight edge is my way of life and if I choose to complain about the junkies and druggies, then I have the right. You don't know what it's like to live with a father that always drinks and you don't know how hard it was for me to live with that? Do you want your children to grow up with the image of seeing you vomit every night just because you had a 'fun' night out with your buddies? And ravishing all those drugs that are shutting down your body…it's suicide."
"It's better than living a long, boring life filled with nothing, and just die one day. It's the excitement, you know? You take a bottle of alcohol and at the end of the night, you wake up in this new person's house and even if it's date rape drugs or anything, you still find yourself laughing, because after all, that's fun. I love taking drugs because they make me feel alive and if being alive is a crime, then I'm committing it every day."
I snorted.
The next sentence got to me though.
"Are you alive, Punk?"
I twisted my head towards him and both of eyes locked and I knew what he meant. "No, I'm dead inside." I spat out, acid in my every words. "I am dead because I live a straight edge boring life and I can't ask for anything more. I know it's boring now but one day, when I have children and I have to watch them grow up, make them happy…I want to give them what I didn't have."
"So cliché," he said.
"Cliché or not, it's how I feel and you asked for it, didn't you?" I snapped at him, letting the acid overtake my words. I didn't care about how he felt right now. Like he didn't care how I felt. I just wanted to get this over with. I wanted to go to the hotel room and crawl under my bed and just die there. I still couldn't believe I had lost my title to Mark. It was my title…how could I just let it slip away from my fingers? The thoughts were consuming my head and I didn't know how I could make them stop.
Silence engulfed through the car again but then I noticed that we were going the wrong road. We were in the same hotel but he wasn't in the right road. I shook my head and grabbed onto the wheel, turning him towards the side of the road and he stared at me in shock and confusion. "What in hell's name are you doing, Punk?"
"We're not in the right road!" I exclaimed, "it's that way. You did a wrong turn—"
"I know where our hotel is!"
"No, you don't!"
"Yes, I do!"
"No, you don't!"
"Yes, I do, straight edge bitch!"
We battled for the wheel, which caused us to crash to a pole and people ran off from our car just so they wouldn't get bumped and we just glad that the road was mostly all cleared as I tried to spin the car around and I got up from my place, slouching my back so that my face could see his own and then, all I could remember was that I saw his feet going to the accelerator and the impact knocked both of us backwards, smashing his nose and we went into such a high speed.
80…81…82…83…84…85…86…87…88…89…90…
My heart was beating so loudly in my chest as I tried to get control of the seemingly unreal situation and before I could realize what was happening, the car ran through a cliff, both of our bodies crashing into each other, the objects of my pocket flying around, the metal of my cell phone and my keys were digging in my flesh, the blood spluttered on the glass and soon, we tumbled through the car's glass and with blood all around, we fell to the floor, and all I could remember was feeling Jeff's breath on my face before I blacked out…
That's the first chapter. I ended the chapter there just to build some suspense. I'll try updating everyday but I can't make any promises.
I hope you liked the chapter, browngirlwrites.
And thanks to Cody, my ex-boyfriend (who said that ex-boyfriends can't be friends?), gameboycjp10, for support.
X Sam.