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yandere-daydreams · 4 months

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Title: Bared Fangs.

Commissioned by the very lovely @ohsotearful.

Pairing: Yandere!Childe x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Modern/Serial Killer AU, Kidnapping, Prolonged Imprisonment, Blood/Gore, Reader Gets Hurt, Obsessive Behavior, Gun Violence, and Unhealthy Relationships. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You should’ve known something was wrong as soon as Childe asked you if you wanted to go outside.

Honestly, you should’ve known something was wrong as soon as he found you reading in front of his fireplace, as soon as that crooked, schoolboy grin found its way to his lips and he forewent his usual routine of draping himself on top of you like some muscled, zealously homicidal weighted blanket in favor of ruffling your hair and toying with the collar of the flannel you were wearing (his flannel, technically, but you tried not to let yourself acknowledge how accustomed you’d grown to wearing your captor’s clothes or, more troublingly, how long it’d been since the last time you’d felt disgusted by it). “Snow should be done for a couple hours,” he started, nodding towards the frost-coated windows. It might’ve been a more charming sight if not for the scratches carved into the surface of the glass – souvenirs from there the first time you got your hands on one of his axes. “I’m thinking of stepping out, doing a little hunting before the storm kicks up again. Wanna come with me?”

You narrowed your eyes at your book, trying to hide the way your heart beat a little faster at the suggestion of being able to leave his claustrophobic cabin. But, with Childe, you were usually better off staying safely tucked behind the bars of your rustic cage. “Is this going to be a normal hunting trip or a you hunting trip?”

He only hummed. “’fraid I don’t know what you mean by that, princess.”

“Are we going to be hunting animals, or…” You trailed off, swallowing down the bitter taste that came with remembering why you were here. “… or, you know. People, or whatever.”

“This time of year?” He let out an airy laugh, like you’d asked to go skiing in the middle of summer. “There’s nobody on the mountain ’cept me and you.”

Still, you dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to try and think beyond your near-overwhelming desire to be anywhere but here. Childe was a murderer, a sadist, a kidnapper, but he wasn’t the type to play mind games. He tended to divide his reality between the world outside – where people could be hunted like quarry, their bodies left to rot in tents and rivers with only the occasional token taken as a keepsake – and the world inside the walls of his cabin – where he sat you down in front of a low-burning fire and told you stories about ice-fishing with his siblings and pouted when you admit his (admittedly, not entirely inedible) cooking could use a little more seasoning. After that first night – the worst night of your fucking life – he seemed to want to keep you resigned to the latter, at least until he came home covered in blood and desperate for something warm and familiar to fuck until he passed out.

Eventually, you sighed, closing your book and sitting up. “Fine. When do we leave?”

His grin widened, head lulling forward as he pressed a kiss into the top of your head. “The front door’s already unlocked. I’ll give you a head start, a full five minutes. Actually, make it ten – just to make it a little more fun for you.”

There was a beat of silence, then another. “Childe, you’re making it sound like you’re—”

“Like I said, there’s nobody on the mountain but me and you.” He pulled away, turning on his heel. “I’ll be nice, too – won’t use anything with more than a twenty-foot range.”

“But, you— you can’t just—”

“Tick-tock.” He clicked his tongue, winking at you over his shoulder. “Unless you’d rather cut straight to the good part.”

You should’ve known something was wrong, and now, running through the frozen wilderness desperately lost and barely dressed, your ten minutes spent and a killer undoubtedly chasing you down, you were paying the price for it.

You didn’t have time to be tactical. The snow was fresh enough to make every interruption unbearable obvious, meaning that – even if you were willing to stop and spare the seconds it’d take to hide your tracks, it wouldn’t have done you much good. Your only option was to run, but even that was easier said than done. Childe preferred to keep you in a state of hand-crafted domestic bliss, meaning what few clothes you did have were either picked out by or borrowed from him. Currently, all that separated you from the cold was his flannel, an oversized shirt, and a pair of his boots that you’d snagged on your way out. The chill snapped at your cold legs like the teeth of some unseen predator, the frigid air burning holes in your lungs, but the thought of what Childe would do when he caught you was enough to keep your feet moving, to keep you sprinting blindly through the forest. He wouldn’t kill you. You had to believe that he wouldn’t kill you, but—

A high-pitched holler, the sound of branches snapping underfoot and foliage being pushed aside somewhere behind you. You hadn’t stopped running after your first trembling steps away from the cabin, and yet, he couldn’t have been more than a few hundred feet behind you – half a mile, at your most generous guess. You started to curse under your breath, then thought better of it, biting down on your bottom lip with enough force to draw blood and pivoting to the left, where the forest seemed to be just a little thicker. If you couldn’t get away from him, you could at least try to hide before he got to you.

It was a haphazard, half-baked plan that was cruelly and immediately cut short as your foot caught on a root hidden by the snow, tearing away your right boot and leaving you sprawled over the frozen ground. Dampness sunk into your thin clothes, and you shut your eyes, trying to listen for Childe’s footsteps, but there was a reason none of his victims ever seemed to hear him coming. The forest’s minimal white noise was enough to swallow him entirely, the sound of birdsong and distant car engines disguising his presence despite your best attempts to—

Your realization was delayed, but intense.

Cars.

Cars meant roads. Cars meant civilization. Cars meant people, people who could take you away from here, away from Childe. You clambered to your feet, but failed to take so much as a step before a sudden, stabbing pain bit into your calf, your leg immediately buckling underneath you. You would’ve fallen entirely if it hadn’t been for the adrenaline running through your system, numbing the agony and choking the ragged scream that threatened to rise from the pit of your chest into a cracked whimper. It was one of Childe’s arrows – you would’ve been able to recognize that black steel from a mile away – but you didn’t let yourself linger on the implications. With grit teeth and balled fists, you limped forward, leaving a thin trail of crimson in your wake. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been looking, but it was there – a thin, wobbling, unpaved dirt road, only marked by two thin rows of tire tracks that sliced harshly through the otherwise unmarred blanket of snow. God, you never thought you’d be so happy to see dirt.

There wasn’t time to think. You stumbled out of the woods and into the road, the arrow’s head sinking that much deeper with every stuttering movement. The car you’d heard was still there, too; a by-the-numbers sedan, only a few hundred feet down the road. You threw up your arms up, then thought better of it; cupping your shaking hands around your mouth. You moved to call out, but whatever you might’ve said was stolen away from you as something dark flashed across your peripheral and another arrow planted itself in your right shoulder. This time, you crumbled like a dead leaf – broken into pieces by a morning gale.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Childe emerge from the tree line, his crossbow still in-hand. As he came to stand in front of you, your gaze shifted back to the car. You watched, your mind buzzing with pain, as it disappeared around a sharp bend, never so much as slowing down.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you heard Childe coo, wiping away the tears flowing down your cheeks before they could freeze against your skin. “Sorry, princess,” he muttered, his voice low with a painful edge. “I guess I cheated, huh? Couldn’t help it – just knew you’d look so cute all bruised up and bleeding.”

Dropping his crossbow carelessly, he fell to your height. He was dressed for one of his usual hunts; a cut-off shotgun slung over his back, a hunting knife sheathed at his hip. The leather casing of the latter pressed into your side as he dipped lower, burying his face in the crook of your neck and pressing a long, open-mouthed kiss into the base of your throat. You felt his knee settle between your thighs, and weakly, your hands found their way to his chest. “Not here,” you mumbled, more afraid of the chill quickly seeping under your skin than being seen. “It hurts, Childe. I—I think you hit something imp—”

“I’ll be fast.” Another kiss, this one to the exposed skin of your collarbone. His calloused hands skirted over your sides, then your waist, hiking the thin fabric of your oversized shirt up to your midriff. You were already past the point of total numbness, and yet, the rough gravel beneath the snow cut harshly into your exposed skin. Rather than distracting you from the pain in your calf, your shoulder, it only seemed to draw more attention to your bleeding wounds, only seemed to make it harder to ignore the dull heat of Childe’s mouth against your chest. “Gotta take you out more often. You’re always beautiful, but I didn’t know you’d look this pretty.”

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. His arrow burnt into the tattered skin of your calf as his hands fell to your legs, groping at the plush of your thighs playfully before shifting his attention to the fly of his jeans. You knew what he wanted, he’d always been transparent, but the sound of shifting fabric, the sight of his rosy-tipped, stiff cock pressing flush against his stomach – that was enough for the loose coil of dread writhing in the pit of your chest to tighten into a tight, jagged knot of pure terror. You tried to sit up, to make your refusal that much more apparent, but Childe only caught you by your uninjured shoulder, shoving you into the ground with enough force to earn a pained scowl, a fractured whimper. His only response was a wordless, vaguely sympathetic noise, a softened lull to his wide smile. “No skipping out on this, babydoll. I can’t guarantee you’ll end up in one piece if I have to wait ‘till we get home.”

It was a fair warning, but anything he could have said would’ve been lost on you. Your heart was beating in your ears, blocking out any other sound. Pools of red blood and piles of limp bodies flashed across your vision and desperately, futilely, you clawed at the hand on your shoulder, kicked at his chest, thrashed underneath him like an animal unaware that resistance would only make the predator want to drive its teeth that much deeper. It was more Childe’s divided attention than your strength, but your heel found his side and, just for a moment, he slipped, letting out a soft grunt as the hand pinning you down fell away. You were scrambling onto your knees in a second, attempting to get your feet underneath you in another, but your little stunt was cut short as Childe lashed out, wrapping his arm around your neck and forcing your stomach against the ground. There was no whimpering, anymore – just a ragged, ear-piercing scream as his free hand found the arrow in your shoulder, tearing it out of you in one clean, unfaltering motion. His only response came in the form of a throaty moan; deep and terrible and followed immediately by the feeling of his cock against your dry cunt. You would’ve begged him to stop, offered to let him do anything he wanted to you if he just didn’t do this, but he didn’t give you time to bargain. Without hesitation, he thrust into you, bottoming out in the same motion.

Trembling sobs tore at your throat and past your lips, tears now flowing unabashedly down your cheeks. Childe kept his full weight against your back as he fucked into you with short, sharp thrusts – never happy unless he was burying himself in the deepest pocket of your poor, freezing pussy. Rather than desensitizing you, letting you fall back into some distant state of nonexistence, the snow seemed to burn where it was pressed into your cheek, your chest. You wished he would’ve taken off the rest of your clothes. You wished he would’ve just shot his stupid arrows into your skull and put you out of your misery.

It shouldn’t have felt good, you didn’t want it to feel good, but your body didn’t know that. Your cunt clenched and drooled around him, trying in vain to turn his assault into something you could enjoy, but the way he grunted into your ear snuffed out any pleasure you might’ve been able to feel. “Tryin’ to pull me back in,” he muttered, his voice already airy, already strung out. You couldn’t help but wonder if, had you only been able to run from him for another minute, he would’ve found something else to shove his dick into and left you out here to freeze to death. “Is that your goal? Wanna – Fuck, wanna help me warm you up?”

His hands fell to your hips, pulling your ass flush against his hips and letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much more brutally. Your injured leg grated against the dirt of the road and you cried out, your voice ragged and barely coherent. “St— Hurts, stop, stop, please, stop—”

“That’s it, always making such pretty sounds for me.” He buried his face in the dip of your shoulder. “Sometimes, it feels like all I wanna do it cut you open and crawl—”

He was interrupted by the dull roar of an approaching engine and something brightened inside of you, your eyes shifting towards the road, towards the well-beaten pick-up truck speeding in your direction. The breaks screeched as you and Childe came into the driver’s view, and for a second, you let yourself go slack underneath him, relief overwhelming your better judgement.

Childe wasn’t so sentimental.

His shotgun was in his hand before you could so much as process that he’d moved. Wordlessly, he fired off two shots; the first to the windshield on the driver’s side and the second to one of the front tires. You watched on helplessly as your last hope for salvation bucked, swerved, then veered off of the road entirely, catching on a snowbank and turning over once before crashing into the trunk of an oak that failed to so much as shake under the force of the collision. It was quieter than you’d expected it to be, the only sounds that of shattering glass and crunching metal. If there were survivors, no one screamed, or called for help, or came stumbling out of the wreckage. Childe’s breath hitched in his throat, his pace growing that much more erratic as he buckled into you – his pointed canines finding the tender junction at the base of your throat and burying themselves in your skin. It was less a love-bite and more an effort to eat you alive. What little blood he didn’t lap up washed over your chest, melting the frost and mixing into the snow beneath you. “Look—” He groaned, tried and failed to pull away from you. His voice reverberated against the curve of your neck as he went on. “Look what you turn me into, princess. Got me making all kinds of messes for you.”

Blood. Bodies. The taste of his cum on your tongue as your friends bled out under the same roof. You would’ve choked the air in your lungs if you’d been able to breathe, but there was no point lingering on pleasant hypotheticals. There were no distractions from the feeling of Childe’s hips grating against yours, the way his cock twitched as settled against you. A guttural moan tore past his lips as something thick and searing flooded into you, and you refused to let yourself acknowledge that this was the warmest you’d felt in days.

You stayed there, limp and frozen and miserable, as Childe pulled away from you, pulled out of you. Your eyes fell shut as he stumbled to his feet, your skin too numb to feel anything aside from the pressure of his arms around your motionless body. He pulled you against his chest, then let out a low whistle. “Might’ve gone a little overboard there. Sorry ‘bout that, princess.” A low chuckle, a gentle squeeze. “I just can’t help it, not when it comes to you. You’ll forgive me after a warm bath, right?”

You didn’t answer. The arrow in your calf must’ve fallen out, or maybe not – you couldn’t feel anything below your knees. Your hands felt like dead weight too, utterly disconnected from anything you might’ve used to control them, but every drop of panic, every ounce of horror – that all paled in comparison to the never-ending pit of pitch-black loathing that formed in your chest as you stared up at Childe. You hated him, wanted to see him torn apart with his own stockpile of weapons, but you really couldn’t blame him. Not for this, at least.

You should’ve known something was wrong as soon as the monster bared its fangs.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere childe #childe x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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mistydeyes · 7 months

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smth abt your recent 141 post gave me a thought.

somebody need to get these boys into a club, flashing lights, music and dancing, fun drinks and flashy y2k reader who’s lowkey an absolute party animal?? or an ex party animal, teehee anyways,,

imagine how fun it’d be dragging johnny onto the dance floor, drunkenly screaming that “this is my FAVORITE song!!”

i just see fics of them at bars and i just need to see them up in a club😫😫

thank you so much for requesting! i LOVE drunken club energy so much (something about going to a club and drinking a weak rum and coke on a thirsty thursday really does it for me). this totally fit the vibe of a previous request so please enjoy a little cameo of the best 2000s aesthetic character, Storm!

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summary: The 141 decides to allow you to pick the place for some drinks while on leave. You take the opportunity to get absolutely hammered and sing your heart out to some 2000s hits.

pairing: Taskforce 141 x reader (codename: Storm)

warnings: swearing

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"I thought they said we were going for drinks," Gaz shouted to Ghost over the loud 2000s dance music that blared on the dance floor. Gaz had found his way back to Price and Ghost after you had dragged him to the beats of Low by Flo Rida. After the chorus, you and your low-rise jeans and Harley Davis tiny top had disappeared with Soap in hand. He figured you would emerge eventually as he took a large gulp of his beer that appeared to be hot pink underneath the neon lights. "I am never letting Storm pick again," Ghost said and Gaz strained to hear him. But by the look of how drunk he was getting over the sugary drinks, it was clear Ghost was trying to make the most out of the experience.

"Here they come," Price yelled, almost as if he was delivering a warning, as you emerged from the crowd. Sweat coated your face and perfectly complicated the loose glitter from your makeup and the mingling crowd. Soap followed close behind, somehow losing his shirt after the three-minute song. "What happened out there?" Simon couldn't help but ask as you and Soap chugged the remainder of your dirty shirleys. "Met some Scousers," Soap breathlessly answered, "shirt went with 'em." The group laughed loudly as Soap fanned his sweating torso. "How'd you find this place, Storm?" Gaz asked, leaning forward closer to the group. "Went here a lot in sixth form and the summer before enlisting," you answered. You remembered the long nights and the hoarse voices you left with. You also remembered the paracetamol and glass of water affectionately left on your bedside table.

You continued to exchange wild stories about your drunken adventures including the time you threw up in someone's designer Juicy Couture bag. "And you still party like a teenager," Price couldn't help but tease as you threw your head back in laughter. "Don't see you complaining about all the compliments you've been getting, Captain," you quipped back. Almost on schedule, a young woman passed by the Captain and sent an air kiss his way with her glossed lips. You held your drink in the air and shared a toast with the group as you celebrated the woman's flirtations. Before Price could respond back, you could hear the beginning of your favorite early 2000s hits.

You jumped up, sloshing the drinks on the small metallic table. "Oh my god," you screamed, "this is my favorite song!" Unfortunately for Price and Soap, they were the nearest to you and your hands immediately began tugging them to the dance floor. Your sneakers squeaked against the floor as Soap relented but Price remained firmly in place. "I'm too old for this," Price said as he shook his head in dismay. "Whatever," you rolled your eyes, letting him fall back onto the plush couch, "but the next time there's a Britney song, I better see your boonie hat on the floor."

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bubblergoespop · 2 months

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My Top Vincent Quotes

save me flirty vampire save me (≧∀≦)

“Fuck!”

“When it feels like it’s too much, just squeeze, okay?”

“Because otherwise you’re gonna be doing your best imitation of a Southern-fried steak under this sun. Move it, cowboy.”

“Oh, I know I’m very close. You’re welcome.”

“My entrepreneurial efforts should not be mocked, Vincent.”

“Should I strip down for easier access, doctor?”

“No one can touch you anymore… No one but me.”

“I’ve only ever met a couple of air elementals in my day, and we, uh… we weren’t doing much talking, if you get my drift.”

“Boo!”

“I’ll never get tired of seeing you come down those stairs like that. Like you know exactly what it does to me. Like you own the room. Like you own my heart. Because you do.”

“This is different. Because it’s with you. And not because of what happened to you but because it’s you. Because of what you mean to me. You’re special to me.”

“I love your neck. And that’s not a vampire thing. That’s a Vincent thing.”

“Hold my hand. Please. Yeah, hold it tight. Feel how strong it is. That’s all for you. It’s your strength. It’s yours.”

“Unlike me, the proverbial golden child.”

“Your scent, even through the skin… It’s torture. But the fun kind.”

“The old man.”

“Knowing you has been like switching my life from black and white to technicolor.”

“When I’m around you all I can think is Ohm my god— That one was so dumb”

“You. I’m looking at you.”

“I assume your lupine-inclined S.O. finds it palatable?”

“I can find them.”

“God, your blood practically sings to me, do you know that?”

“I love you. And I will spend eternity at your side if you’d let me.”

“Don’t tell him I said that though. He already threatens to kick my ass every other day. I’d probably deserve it too, but he’s too much of a softy to actually do it.”

“What? I am looking. All right, maybe I’m not looking out at the view. But I’m definitely looking. And loving what I see.”

“All of you is amazing. I mean that. I couldn’t say it if I didn’t. “

“If you really want someone to act like a mother hen, try pulling anything in front of Sam, you can practically hear his blood pressure rising in real time”

“You were my new beginning.”

“My magic is yours, to be whatever help it can. All of me is. Always.”

“I love you. Yes, even when you eat shit. C’mon, you goof.”

“I know your neck’s sweaty. What’s your point?”

“I need your blood. Please.”

“Yeah. It’s still a Vincent thing. I’ll always love kissing your neck, Lovely.”

“Alexis is… being Alexis about it all.”

“Oh I’m not just any idiot, I’m your idiot. There’s a difference.”

“Mine.”

“It’s nothing. You just… you look so cute cuddled up under the sheets like that.”

“Fuck, you smell good.”

“What? I am being good.”

“I’ll fix the drywall… You’re right, I won’t.”

“If the attendant hears it’ll give him something fun to talk about when he gets home.”

-“Even when we’re apart, just thinking of you gets me hard.”

“Have I mentioned that I love when you really lean into your Vampiric strength? Good. Because it’s so fucking hot.“

“You know I’ve always been a tease. Your tease.”

“Yeah you can bite me. Do it.”

“I said mine.”

“Let’s go see what the cowboy’s thinking.”

“Fuck. I wanted you so bad. You’ve been so close. But I knew it’d be worth the wait. And you’re worth every minute of the wait. ”

“Makes sense when your mate’s halfway to being a lumberjack already.”

“Eat shit, asshole. Is that better?”

“Do you like it? [the cutest relieved chuckle in existence] Good. Good I’m glad.”

“I’m not some animal. I’m Vincent Solaire. I’m not just a vampire. I’m more than that. I have to be more than that.”

“Lex.”

#FINALLYYY OMG #bubbler’s top quotes #redacted vincent #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse

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lavendertom · 6 months

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My Favorite Prize

Mike Schmidt x f!Reader

wc: 1.7k

warnings: none! just fluff and fun 🤗

so this is my first time ever writing a fic and posting it, so apologies if it isn’t great and has mistakes, i just felt so drawn to this idea i had to attempt to write it! i hope y’all enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

this is kind of an au where nothing bad ever happened to the pizzeria (i’m an optimist if u can’t tell), mike still has the security job there, but it’s all good vibes bc he deserves happiness :’) basically just mike, abby, and reader having a fun day out at freddy’s ☺️

also was written w a female reader in mind, but i don’t think there’s any explicit use of she/her pronouns so do what you will with that

keeping this intro short as possible, but i’ll include another a/n at the end!

——————————————————————————

You would’ve never thought that taking a babysitting job for a neighbor down your street would lead to some of the best memories you’ve ever had. Not to mention it also led to you and Mike, your boyfriend, meeting each other.

Naturally, you spend a lot of time with Mike and especially his sister, Abby, who you’ve been babysitting for about 6 months now. Your bond with her feels like so much more than just being her babysitter, even more so after starting to date Mike. You are always more than happy to do all kinds of activities with her, even if you’re “off the job.” After all, you’re at the house almost everyday now.

“Can we please go to Freddy’s today? I’ve been collecting quarters for months now, I want to use them!” Abby begged as you, her, and Mike finished your breakfast.

“I’m sure your brother doesn’t want to go to work over the weekend, but I can take you if you really want to go.” you said with a smile as you got up to wash off your plate.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t want to join in on this?” Mike asked looking back at you.

“You need a break, Mike.” you answered. “You stay home and rest, Abby and I will go. Plus it’s your job, you don’t want to be thinking about work over the weekend. I don’t mind taking her, trust me.” You often needed to remind him it was okay to stay home and rest. He works his ass off, mostly to provide for Abby, but also because he can’t help but spoil you as well. Even if you didn’t need anything, he still cared too much.

“Please y/n!” Abby shouted from her seat. “Let Mike come too. It will be extra fun then!”

“Yeah, y/n.” Mike said, giving you that look you couldn’t say no to. You looked into those brown eyes, shaking your head smiling.

“Okay, okay,” you responded laughing at the siblings, “let’s go then.”

The three of you piled into Mike’s sedan. On the way there, you and Abby sang some of her favorite Disney tunes, occasionally getting Mike to sing a line or two.

When you arrived, Abby immediately ran up to the stage of three animatronic animals who were singing and dancing. You and Mike followed behind, hand in hand. The pizzeria was full of children playing games, eating pizza, and running around doing whatever kids do.

“I don’t know why she loves those damn robots so much.” Mike said as the two of you walked in. “They’re creepy.”

“I think it’s cute.” you replied. “I think it’d be fun to hang out with them sometime, you know? Like, play arcade games with them, eat some pizza. I mean, you practically have a sleepover with them every night, Mike.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you had to be their guardian every night.” he said sarcastically.

“I don’t buy it, you love them.” you responded, squeezing his hand. He gave you a dramatic eye roll and you couldn’t help but giggle at him. You finally caught up to Abby, finding the girl still in awe of the animatronic show. “Alright Abby, what are we doing first?”

The girl thought for a moment, until her eyes lit up and that mischievous little smirk she makes was on her face. “Skee ball competition.”

“What does the winner get?” Mike asked.

“If I win, you have to get me ice cream for dessert.” She replied confidently. She always knew what she wanted, and she was gonna get it no matter what.

“And what if I win?” you asked.

“Then Mike has to get you a prize.” She replied grinning at the two of you.

“Why’s it always me who has to pay the price?” he asked. Abby already began skipping towards the arcade games.

“You’re the one who asked.” you replied giving him a shrug. “And by the way, I’m so winning this.”

“Yeah?” he asked smirking as the two of you followed Abby. “What if I win? What do I get?”

“I guess something can be arranged if you win.”

“Well you better start thinking of something because there won’t be an ‘if I win’, just a when I win.”

The three of you found the skee ball games, each picking a lane to play on. You all agreed whoever had the most points after three rounds of playing was the winner. Abby decided she would count down before shouting “go!” and the game was on. Surprisingly, Abby did very well, and the game ended with a win for Abby, and a draw between you and Mike for second place.

“I win!” Abby shouted jumping up and down before giving Mike a hug. “Now you have to get me ice cream for dessert!” You couldn’t help but smile at the two, their bond was unlike any other.

“Okay, okay, Abby!” he said with a laugh as Abby pulled away from him. “But before that, it looks like y/n and I have a tie to break.”

“Oh, we’re doing this now huh?” you said, crossing your arms. “You can’t stand a draw?”

“I was told there would be prizes and I am not letting my efforts go to waste.”

“Okay, fine, best of three wins.” You grabbed a handful of quarters out of the cup sitting on edge of the game.

“Ready to lose, sweetheart?”

What he didn’t realize was Abby slowly making her way towards your skee ball lane, silently noting she was on your side.

“Don’t get so ahead of yourself, babe.” you said with a playful scoff. What ensued after was the best mix of chaos and fun.

You and Abby were both trying to throw as many balls as you could in the somewhat small skee ball lane. The two of you were laughing at how terribly it ended up working out. Mike finally realized the team you two had formed to which he kept playfully shoving the balls out of your hands, while somehow still maintaining control of his own with his other hand. By the end, you were so out of breath from not only playing the competitive game, but laughing at the madness that occurred.

“I can’t believe you let Mike win, y/n!” Abby said, sounding more upset than she should’ve been.

“I would never let your brother purposely beat me at a game of skee ball.” you said, still out of breath. “He sabotaged the game!” you shouted, giving him a knowing look while pointing an accusing finger at him.

“I believe I deserve some sort of prize for my victory.” he responded smirking as he stood looking at you with his arms crossed.

You finally caught your breath as you looked into his brown eyes, then down to his lips which still held the small smirk. You walked closer to him, putting your hands on his shoulders as you stood on your tip toes to place a soft, small kiss on his lips. He put his hands around your waist, pulling you in just a bit. You could feel him smile, and you did too, letting out a small laugh.

“I’m still here you know.” Abby said, making you both turn to face her, still standing by the skee ball lane. She wasn’t the biggest fan of the two of you showing affection, but you knew deep down it made her happy. After all, she was the one who got you guys to realize your feelings for each other. “So am I getting my ice cream or not?”

“How could I forget.” Mike said sarcastically to his sister, giving her a small smile. He wrapped an arm around your waist as you stood next to him. “Does pizza sound good for dinner?”

“Of course, but don’t you dare forget her ice cream. She’s scary when she gets mad.” you said that last part in a whisper just loud enough for Abby to hear.

“Hey!” she shouted, knowing you guys were messing with her.

“Believe me, I know.” Mike said, ruffling his sister’s hair as they all made their way to the dining room.

The three of you enjoyed a delicious pizza dinner at Freddy Fazbear’s, making sure not to forget Abby’s ice cream she so rightfully earned. Before you left for home, Abby traded in some of her tickets for prizes at the prize counter. She ended up choosing a Bonnie plushie and a little Freddy keychain. She had been working towards collecting all of the Fazbear plushies, having just a few more left to complete the collection.

“Today was so fun!” Abby squealed as the three of you left, her Bonnie plush in hand.

“It was pretty fun.” you said smiling, taking in the final sights, sounds, and smells of the pizzeria as you walked out the doors. The three of you somehow ended up spending most of the day there, continuing to play games and eat tons of pizza.

“You know what, I think we should do this more often.” Mike chimed in.

“Really?” you said, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah. I know it’s technically work, but this was really fun. Thanks for letting me tag along, y/n.” he held onto your hand again.

“Don’t just thank me, Abby was the one who really convinced me to let you join us.”

“I find that extremely hard to believe.” he said while bumping his shoulder into yours.

“Fine, you’re kinda fun too I guess.”

“Just kinda?” he asked raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe a little more than kinda.” you admitted. He placed a kiss on the top of your head as you reached his car.

“Y/n?” Abby asked.

“Yes Abby?” you replied.

She took the Freddy keychain out of her pocket, handing it to you. “This is for you, since you never got a prize for winning skee ball. And because you’re my favorite.”

You nearly teared up at the gesture. A huge smile had come across your face.

“Abby, you are too sweet. Thank you.” you said as you held the small keychain in your hand, giving her a hug.

At the last second you decided to pull Mike into your hug, savoring every moment of having your two favorite people right by your side. “You guys are my favorite prize.”

——————————————————————————

A/N

i hope y’all enjoyed :) depending how well this is received i may consider writing more for mike and whatnot. hopefully it didn’t feel too long, once i start writing i can’t really stop myself. don’t be afraid to lmk ur thoughts in the comments!

i thought we needed more of these kinds of fics for those of us who had our inner child healed from the fnaf movie. these r my fav kind of fics and there just isn’t enough of them 🫶

if ur one to listen to music while reading, i recommend the first 4 songs off of Mylo Xyloto by coldplay. that’s exactly what went thru my mind while writing. 🤗

#fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #five nights at freddy’s movie #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #abby schmidt #mike schmidt x y/n #michael schmidt

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foxy-eva · 1 year

Text

Cowboy Like Me

Summary: Spencer decides to fulfill a childhood dream

Author’s Note: This story is loosely based on the conversation Spencer and JJ have in S15E07 about parallel universes (a.k.a. Cowboy Spencer)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: none

Word count: 1.9k

Masterlist

Toy departments have always been magical for me. I clearly remember walking through them wide-eyed as a little girl, entranced by all the colorful and sparkly objects calling to me. There was nothing more exciting than to find one of them perfectly wrapped on birthdays or Christmas, waiting for me to play with it.

Even as an adult I couldn't hide my child-like wonder as I walked along the aisles. Spencer was clearly more focussed on my reactions than on whatever toy we could pick for his godson's birthday. When my eyes landed on a particular stuffed animal, a gasp fell from my lips.

When I reached out to hold it in my hands, Spencer chuckled, "I don't think Michael is into sheep. He's more of a dinosaur kind of boy."

I took the plushie into my hands, inspecting it thoroughly. In an instant I was taken back to childhood days, playing peacefully with a very similar one.

"She looks just like her," I whispered.

Spencer wasn't sure what I was talking about when he asked, "Like who?"

"Fluffy. A sheep plushie I had as a child. I loved her so much but unfortunately I lost her when we moved."

"Awe I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe we should give this one a new home?" Spencer suggested.

I put the toy back on the shelf and shook my head. “No, that’s okay. I’m sure it’ll make a child very happy someday.”

Taking my hand in his, Spencer walked me to a different section of the store to find the perfect present for Michael.

Neither of us mentioned my little anecdote again and I almost forgot about it altogether. That was until I got home from work a few days later. Spencer was waiting for me on the couch with the small sheep plushie sitting beside him. A wide smile was painted all over his face when we locked eyes.

“What’s this?” I snickered as I took the toy in my hands to inspect it.

“Fluffy 2.0 – or whatever you want to name it,” he said. “I had to go back to get it. You seemed so happy when you found it, so I thought it’d be nice to have it as a little reminder of your childhood.”

I found my place beside him on the couch, pressing a brief kiss on his lips to thank him. The toy not only reminded me of days long gone, it also took me back to my first ever career aspiration.

“There’s actually more to the story,” I confessed.

He placed his arms around my waist to bring me closer while he encouraged me to tell him about it. “I would love to hear it.”

It had always been astounding to me that even after years of knowing someone, there were still parts of their lives we had no idea about. Sometimes it made me wonder if it was even possible to know everything about our loved ones. After Spencer had surprised me with stories about his past - most of them a lot less merry than what I was about to tell him - it was my turn to let him in on this unknown side of me.

“The reason I got Fluffy in the first place was because I was obsessed with sheep. It was all I could ever talk about. You know how most little girls want to be a nurse or a teacher or even a princess? Well, I wanted to be a shepherdess. I dreamed of living in the countryside with my flock of sheep, doing nothing all day other than walk around and pet them.”

Spencer couldn’t hide the playful tone in his voice when he chuckled, “That’s adorable.”

I pinched his stomach, whining, “Hey, don’t make fun of me!”

He was quick to take my hand in his, softly kissing it before telling me, “I’m not! I swear. I genuinely think that this is really sweet. So, what happened to that dream?”

I thought about my answer for a moment until I decided to tell him the truth. “I would like to say that I grew out of it but the truth is, I still think about it sometimes.”

Spencer seemed genuinely surprised. “You do?”

“Not about becoming a full-time shepherdess – I know that’s unrealistic for me – but I sometimes imagine us living on a little farm with a bunch of animals. Some chicken, my little flock of sheep, maybe even some alpacas,” I explained.

I expected him to be more surprised by my confession but instead he asked, “Can I let you in on a little secret too?”

After I nodded, he told me, “I actually like to imagine that there is a parallel universe where I’m a cowboy.”

“A cowboy?” I giggled. “I would have never guessed that.”

“Yeah. Maybe in this alternate reality you’d be a shepherdess and we’d fall in love after meeting at the farmer’s market,” he cooed before placing a kiss into my hair.

I really liked this fantasy he created, I could see those alternate versions of us living a rural life.

“I’d love that for us. We could sell milk and wool together after joining our ranches. We’d be the hottest farmers in town. The cowboy and the shepherdess.”

Spencer laughed out loud at my words before adding, “I’m sure you’d be the hottest farmer in the whole state.”

For the following weeks we kept talking about this fantasy, adding details and creating scenarios of what we'd do in this parallel universe. It became like a nighttime routine to us to let cowboy Spencer and his wife go on adventures together. It might seem silly to anyone else but those stories became very near and dear to our hearts.

Never had I expected that even a fraction of our fantasy world could ever come true. That was until one sunny Saturday morning when Spencer told me he had a surprise for me. It was rare for him to be the one to drive but it was even rarer for him to not tell me where we'd be going. Despite my constant pleading to let me in on his secret, he kept his lips sealed.

I didn't recognize the roads he was taking when we left the city but I did enjoy the landscape the further we got away. After a forty-five minute drive, he pulled into the driveway of a very small but unbelievably cute ranch. There was a beautiful house with a small stable and a garden waiting to grow vegetables in it.

Before I could wonder what we would be doing here, I took my time to take everything in. When I turned my head, I found Spencer smiling at me, curious about my reaction. I got out of the car to take a few steps towards the front door of the house.

"What are we doing here?"

I expected him to tell me we'd spend the day here to pet some sheep and cattle. That wasn't what he had planned though.

He was hesitant to answer me at first but when he began to explain, he did it in his usual rambling manner. "I found this little ranch for sale at a really good price. It'll need some work before we could actually live here but Morgan already offered to help us. The stable is in good shape though."

His words didn't make sense to me. I stared at him with lips agape and eyes widened. I kept looking back and forth between him and the house.

When I finally found my voice again, I squeaked, "What? Spencer, this is crazy!"

"It's an adventure," he corrected me.

Still unsure of what to think, I breathed, "I don't know what to say."

He took my hand and gently squeezed it. "How about yes? Think about it. We're still within driving distance to both our workplaces. It's small enough to be able to take care of everything after work and who knows, maybe someday we'll actually sell our own milk and wool at the farmer's market. Just like we talked about."

Although my head was trying to come up with so many reasons why this couldn’t be a good idea, my heart screamed at me to agree with him, so I sighed, "You are very good at making compelling arguments. How could I ever say no to that?"

"Thank god,” he groaned in relief while pointing at the stable. “I already bought two sheep."

With a firm grip around my hand, he led me to the door where I could hear the sheep he just mentioned.

In complete disbelief of everything that was going on, I said, "You did what? We don't even own this place yet!"

Spencer just shrugged and mumbled, "I mean…”

"Spencer!” I reprimanded him, “You can't make big decisions like that without me! What if I had said no?"

While opening the door to the stable for me to look at the two young sheep, he said, "It was worth the risk."

My husband must have completely lost his mind and I loved him so much for that. I stepped closer to the little creatures, reaching out my hand to make contact with their soft wool. They were very curious to get to know me, making my heart melt when they began nuzzling their little snouts against my hands.

Spencer glanced over my face, wondering, "Are you mad at me?"

A bright smile spread across my face when I found his eyes, explaining, "I can't be mad at you for doing something so sweet. Very irrational, but sweet."

“I know it’s not a whole flock yet but it’s a start. How do you want to name them?”

I was mesmerized by the little lambs in front of me when I cooed, “They look like little clouds.”

“We could call them Alto and Cirro. Like the types of clouds,” he suggested.

“That’s perfect.”

We spent the rest of the day at our future home, figuring out what exactly we wanted to do with this place. It would take at least a couple of weeks until we could move here. Even though it was impractical to have to come here every day to take care of our sheep, I was still looking forward to finally make my childhood dream to be a shepherdess come true.

When I came home from running errands the next day, it was my turn to surprise my husband. It didn’t come close to the grand gesture of buying a ranch, but I still knew he’d appreciate it. He was reading a book about farming when I approached him in the living room, hiding a foreign object behind my back.

With one eyebrow raised he looked at me and chuckled, “What do you have there?”

I showed him the ridiculously large cowboy hat and he broke out in laughter.

“I know we don’t have cattle nor horses yet but I still wanted you to feel like a cowboy,” I giggled.

When he put the hat on, my heart skipped a beat at the sight of the man in front of me. He placed a soft kiss on my lips before thanking me.

“I love it. And I love you,” he said. “How about we get going to see Alto and Cirro?”

“I would love nothing more, cowboy.”

If you enjoyed reading this story you should check out the other fluff fics in my SFW Masterlist!

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @spookydrreid @gspenc @justreadingficsdontmindme @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @pauline5525mgg @sanaz1dlol @luna-novae @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @s4r4hsblog @sebs-oxygen @reidsmilf @beepbooptoop @lovejules888 @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @lilibet261 @fandomstuffff @spencer-reid-wonderland @happymangospot @conniesanchor @jordierama @ellamaianderson @cynbx @feltonswifesworld87 @sweetannanas @dashneydanger @melifluorei-d @l-e-n-a @bitchassbecky691 @iameternallylonely @hotchandspencearedilfs @amititties @lover-of-books-and-tea @castiels-majestic-wings

Join my taglist here

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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rootsofdread · 8 months

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I live for goofy moments with survivors mid serious matches tbh. Nuthin'better than throwing the game because some guy found a way to jump on the table!

Ace, Rebecca, Feng and Dwight with a usually ferocious killer, who's easily amused and/or distracted? They basically see red at all times, running and slashing and tearing everything apart.. untill people stop running away and start doing something unconventional for the place. They see a survivor behind the counter in the Dead Dawg Saloon? Yeah, no, it's not a hunt anymore, it's a bar night. Someone watches TV at Lery's memorial? That's their favourite thing to do now, too! And the carnival games.. Don't even get them started on carnival games. So it's mostly the matter of "who can entertain the said killer for the most time possible" instead of "who can outrun them" most times :)

🦞 uhavefuntoo

this was a fun one to write hehe!! fun fact i based the dwight one off of an experience i had in-game, i can't remember if i was playing dwight at the time but i had gone to pet maurice with two of my teammates and while we were petting him our killer, a nurse, came over and just watched us for a little bit, then left. IIRC, she massacred us, but it was funny X)

(i also tried to amuse a sadako in a similar way...i pretended to be watching one of her TVs, crouched in front of it, was pointing at it, and so she teleported through it, which got me to laugh. she also ended up killing me though lol)

Dwight Fairfield:

For the most part, Dwight is so afraid of you that anything funny or distracting he might do is completely by accident. For example, when he was trying to hide from you on the grounds of Father Campbell’s Chapel. He ducked down by Maurice’s favorite tent, hiding slightly behind the horse hoping you wouldn’t see him. He began gently petting Maurice to calm himself down, because he swore he could feel something looming over his shoulder. The feeling kept nagging at him as he pet the animal…until he decided he should turn around, and saw you staring at him. But there was something different about your demeanor — you seemed to have calmed down. He was still petrified, of course. Especially when you moved closer and crouched down beside him. He almost bolted away, but you started petting Maurice with him. Confusing as it was, he decided…whatever keeps you from killing him. Maurice seemed happy, too.

Feng Min:

Feng has quite the penchant for messing with killers. Whether or not they ever enjoy it could be up for debate, but it doesn’t stop her from doing it, and she always has fun with you. Every time the two of you are running through the Dead Dawg Saloon, she’ll make some distance between you and her and dive behind the counter inside the saloon, and when you finally catch up to her, she pops up from behind it and announces she’s here to take your order. Seeing the immediate change in your demeanor amuses her to no end, when you suddenly stop and politely approach the counter. Typically, you two will end up playing barkeep for the rest of the match while Feng’s teammates finish generators and everything. Sometimes, other survivors will wander in and either be confused by the scene or decide to join in your games. Either way, Feng loves having fun with you like this.

Ace Visconti:

Of course, Ace is no stranger to testing his luck, especially when it comes to killers. He was testing wacky ways to lose you or direct your attention to something else long before he knew how easy it really was to distract you. He didn’t truly discover this until one day, when running from you around the carnival grounds of Father Campbell’s, he decided to stop at one of the booths. It was a milk jug ring toss game, he figured if he landed a shot, maybe it’d amuse you enough to leave him alone for now. To his surprise, you actually stopped your bloodthirsty rampage to watch him play the game, and you even took a turn after he’d thrown a few. He soon realized, after a couple rounds, was actually having fun with you. A killer…! If he would’ve known this was going to work, he would’ve done it a long time ago.

Rebecca Chambers:

Rebecca doesn’t tend to goof off during trials, not even with other survivors, especially not with a killer. Normally, she wouldn’t be particularly inclined to waste time either, but during a trial between the two of you inside Lery’s Memorial, as she was running from you she was quickly realizing she was running out of ways to keep you distracted. She noticed a television up the hallway, and as a last-ditch effort, sprinted towards it and called a time-out to watch TV together. She didn’t think it would work. But you actually stopped and lumbered towards the TV with your head cocked, and you stood next to her in front of the screen. She was still tense, but internally, she heaved a sigh of relief. Somehow, it had worked…she had gotten you to calm down and stop terrorizing everyone for a few minutes. In a way, it was nice, almost….

#inbox #killer reader #gender neutral reader #dwight fairfield #feng min #ace visconti #rebecca chambers #dbd imagines #dbd x reader #dbd x you #dwight fairfield x reader #feng min x reader #ace visconti x reader #rebecca chambers x reader

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nekropsii · 4 days

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Two-part question. First, do you think the structure of late Homestuck (Vriskagram -> Lilypad convos -> Collide -> Act 7) is good? Second: if not, how would you have structured the endgame instead?

I think Act 6 was kind of a burning dumpster fire with some good bits snuck in. Most of my beef with Act 6 are embodied by the Strider Rooftop Scene. Far, far too drawn out, far too direct, and I just… Cannot see Dave behaving that way. Yes, it brings up some aspects of abuse that I personally have had to cope with, and the story of Dave’s abuse is personally resonant to me, but… The execution of that scene felt extremely fanfic-y to me, and I just can’t see Dave being so willing to be so vulnerable and open with Dirk so quickly. Rose? Sure. He loves Rose. I could see him having this kind of conversation with Rose. But not Dirk. Not this soon, and not this directly.

A lot of Act 6, especially Late Act 6, is just fanfiction to me. I have a crack theory that at least some of it was ghostwritten. Far too much of the characters literally sitting around and doing nothing but talking about their feelings in extremely plain terms. But again, there’s some really good bits mixed in. Act 7 is just a banger piece of animation, and I do enjoy Collide. I don’t have qualms about where it ended, I think it ended where it should have.

I’m not sure how I’d restructure it. I think I’d make it do way less of characters sitting around doing group therapy for 50 pages and actually give some characters some satisfying resolutions, first of all. Less Strider Man Pain, more of Whatever Jake Has Going On. One of my only gripes about the ending of Homestuck is that I wish Jake got more exploration, instead of actually getting turned into 16 year old eye candy.

I’d keep Homestuck around the same size. The size felt good. I’m just not the biggest fan of the way they used it during the later parts, but… Seemingly for the reasons why some people really liked it? Eh.

My joke answer is that I’d make Dirk and Caliborn properly Spades to parallel the fact that I’d make Roxy and Calliope properly be stated Girlfriends. Yes, it’s obvious that they have a romantic relationship, but apparently it’s not obvious enough because so many people just do not seem to get it. I think it’d be fun and good for all four of them.

Less feelings jams, more actual feelings. I read these long drawn out therapy talks and feel nothing. Punch me in the face in the way [S] Terezi: Remem8er did, or the way Dave’s speech about Heroism did, or Caliborn’s arc. Punch me in the face the same way as John having a meltdown because he realized he doesn’t like Con Air anymore. Get creative.

#homestuck #homestuck analysis #nekro.pdf #nekro.sms

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year

Note

The fire pillar from demon slayer meeting Exsotica as she heading to a lord house to entertain them but the run to a carrange probably and they both happen to meet

Meeting someone other worldly and kind would be something

Exotica | Meeting the Flame Hashira

Well first and foremost this would never happen cannon storyline

By the time you show up in this universe it's almost a year or two before Kyojuro is fated to die

But with the tidbit dropped in the Art headcannon it’d seem that Kagaya would eventually summon you to the estate

But that couldn’t be the case because you never can’t leave the Yukaku District

Daki and Gyutarou have been ordered to hold you there

And of course, the Red light district suddenly becoming more famous for your existence would sooner send the art of you than sending you on your own

They’d risk losing you to bandits, obsessed fans, demons

It would just be too much for the Red District to lose their favorite cash cow

Not to mention if Kyojuro ever stepped foot near any of the houses

There’s no way that both sides would remain clueless

Kyojuro’s too adept for that Daki and Gyutarou would never let this fly on account of That Man’s orders

The conditions for this meet would rely on the luck Exotica does not have, and it can’t be too far from the Yukaku District:

“HELLO THERE FAIR MAIDEN!”

You were by the river taking a rest from your travels and from the carriage that housed Warabihime. You didn’t mind spending extended hours in Daki’s disguise, in fact, you preferred it. Her clinginess was kept to a minimum and she’s in a much better mood; usually too distracted by you to badger her own staff. But you were able to excuse yourself heading into the sunlight to relieve yourself as well as get a look at the majestic scenery you could only read about in manga/only fawn over in anime. Either way, you sent a smile and greeted the demon slayer.

You recognized him immediately—who wouldn’t, but you refrained from expressing any sorrow. Instead offering to give him food. You had plenty in abundance having done the Edo equivalent of a celebrities tour. And you happily sat with the Hashira as he munched on his provided meal.

“YUM! YUM! DELICIOUS!”

You let yourself giggle, drawing the fiery eyes of the Hashira as he tilted his head into confusion.

“I don’t mean to sound like I’m making fun of you. I’m just curious as to why your so vocal while eating?”

The hashira finished his bite giving you his glowing smile.

“I BELIEVE IT’S BEST TO VOICE EVERYTHING YOUR HEART! ESPECIALLY WHEN THAT CHANCE MIGHT BE TAKEN FROM YOU!”

“Wow, it sounds as though…your speaking from experience.”

He gave a hearty laugh before continuing to eat befor cleating his mouth once again.

“ON THAT NOTE, I’D LIKE TO SAY YOU’RE ABSOULUTELY BEWITCHING! MARRY ME!”

“Haha Rengoku-san, you’re very funny but I don’t think I can.”

“HAHA PERSISTENCE IS A VIRTUE TOO MANY LOSE HEART THAT WAY! MARRY ME!”

He would repeat the same declaration all throughout your break before one of the young maidens called you on behalf of the oiran. When the time came you bowed to him, encouraging the hashira on his way. Before you depart he grabs your hand, and with a grim theme to his expression he gave you a promise.

“I WASN’T JESTING WHEN I PROPOSED THIS TO YOU. ONCE MY MISSION IS COMPLETE I WILL FIND YOU AND MARRY YOU. SAFE TRAVELS MY FLAME.”

Releasing you to begin his jovial trek to whatever mission he was on. Standing still in genuine stupor you were broken out by Warabihime’s calls. Returning to the carriage you urged the demon’s worried cries as well as your own.

‘What was that and why did it feel so…true?’

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zalrb · 6 months

Text

The First Meetings {SE Fic}

This was fun, though I'm mad I couldn't use all the gifs I wanted.

Elena stood on Wickery Bridge and peered down to the river below. As she examined the water, she saw it all: her parents’ car skidding off the road, plummeting into the depths. The water filling the car. Her father pounding the window. Her mother unconscious. The panic. The fear. The acceptance. The darkness. And then she woke up in the hospital. Her parents were recovering in different rooms on the same floor. It’d been a close call. Too close.

She didn’t tell anyone about it, not her parents or her brother, not her aunt Jenna, not Caroline, not even Bonnie, but every day since that night, she’d come to the bridge. She’d spent a lot of summer mornings just standing here, sometimes sitting against the railing, writing in her diary, before meeting up with whoever or doing whatever. Like a ritual. She couldn’t really articulate why she did it. She couldn’t really articulate how she felt since that night either. Everyone expected that she was fine because she was fine, her parents were fine, everything was fine.

Maybe a week, a month of being jittery -- that was to be anticipated -- but now, it was time to go back to the way things were, the way she was. The only difference she’d really seen with her parents was that her dad had started spending more time with Jeremy, as if trying to make up for the possibility of lost time. But she and her mom were back to their routine. So she was back to hers.

Suddenly -- a caw. The noise disrupted her thoughts. A crow flew by and perched beside her. Elena startled. A crow on the bridge where she nearly died, how fitting. It didn’t leave. It hopped closer to her.

“Go away.”

It started to flap around her. What was its problem? “Shoo!” Stubborn damn bird. She turned to bat it away only to find the crow gone and a dark-haired man standing behind her. Her hand flew to her chest.

“Oops,” he said, his blue eyes glinting. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Elena didn’t answer right away. “I just didn’t know anyone else was here.”

He was grinning at her. Elena didn’t know how she felt about it. It was playful but there was something else there to it, something that made her a bit uneasy, like she should be ready to run at a moment’s notice. She blinked at him. Wait a minute…

“I know you,” she said, taking in the leather jacket, the blue eyes, the smile that in a second could turn to a leer.

They’d met months before. Four months before to be exact. On the night of the crash. Before everything changed. He’d come out of nowhere, just like he did now, and he thought she was someone else, someone called … what was that name, it’d been a ‘k’ name or a ‘c’ name…

“I do have a pretty unforgettable face,” he said now.

Elena nodded. “D..Da…Damien, right?”

He paused, something sharp and painful flitted over his face and then it was gone. “Damon,” he corrected.

Right. That was right.

“You should be careful out here, all alone.” He gestured around the empty bridge.

Not to be rude or anything, Damon, but it’s kind of creepy that you’re out here in the middle of nowhere.

You’re one to talk.

Pieces of the conversation they’d had in May were coming back to her as he said, “Been catching up on the local news.”

Elena swallowed hard. “Yeah, it’s weird, you know, because all my life, there’s never been a single animal attack and now suddenly it’s like bears and wolves and coyotes.”

“Oh my!”

Elena stared at him.

“Wizard of Oz.”

“Funny,” she said.

Why did she feel so tense? Why did it feel like he’d cornered her somehow?

When she’d met him that night, she’d felt … well, it’d been weird, but it’d been somewhat intriguing. He’d been somewhat intriguing. You want what everybody wants…

“Animal control’s been out so it’ll all die down soon,” she said.

“Unless it isn’t animals.”

Elena narrowed her eyes, trying to sus him out. “Why? You know something everyone else doesn’t?”

“Oh, I know a lot more than ‘something’.”

She shivered. It didn’t feel … her heart rate was steadily picking up. Why was something so simple so nerve-wracking? So stressful? She should walk away but she didn’t feel released from the conversation. He seemed to sense her trepidation because he took a step back and loosened his demeanour, like he was trying to appear non-threatening. He’d done that the last time they’d met too.

“So what are you doing here? Isn’t school starting?”

Elena bit the inside of her lip. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

“I ain’t getting any younger.”

Elena paused. She didn’t know if she wanted to tell him or not, but she somehow felt like she had to.

“A few months ago, the night I saw you actually, my parents’ car skidded off this bridge. We almost died, it’s a miracle we didn’t.”

“You come back to the spot where you almost died?” He raised his eyebrows. “Seems a little morbid.”

Elena pressed her lips together. “Yeah, I can see how it seems that way.”

“What does the boyfriend think about this? You know, the one you got into a fight with?”

Good memory.

“Matt?” Elena thought about him showing up to the hospital, taking her hand in his. Then showing up to her house, anxious to make sure she was doing OK. Then his back as he left when she told him… “We broke up.”

“Figures,” said Damon with a shrug. “Seems too much like a country bumpkin for a gal like you.”

Something in Elena switched and her tone grew firm. “I was in a weird headspace when I talked to you that night but I would never talk down about Matt. OK? You don’t know him so you shouldn’t either.”

He shrugged. “I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.”

“But you haven’t seen anything.”

He squinted his eyes at her and Elena didn’t really know what that meant. She couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t hurt her but she couldn’t be sure that he would.

“You’re right, you know, I should get to school. Don’t want to be late my first day.”

“Want a lift? I got a sick ride.”

“Thanks,” said Elena slowly, picking up her school bag. “But I’m kind of taking a break from cars…”

“Suit yourself.”

His eyes twinkled and Elena smiled somewhat awkwardly before taking off down the bridge, and when she was sure she had enough distance between them, she slowed down and exhaled, before picking up speed again at hearing another caw.

She’d made it to school quicker than she thought she would. People were still outside, finishing homework or gossiping or playing hacky sack like they were in some weird retro movie. Elena stopped walking, taking a moment to properly breathe and unclench from her talk with Damien or Damon or whatever on the bridge, and glanced around for Bonnie or Caroline.

“Look out!”

Everyone looked around, and then up. By the time Elena followed suit, it was too late. A football. Spiraling in the sky. It was soaring toward her and in a second it was going to connect. With her face. Elena already knew it was going to be bloody. Bloody and embarrassing and painful.

Someone was calling her name. “Elena!” Maybe Matt? “Elena, watch---”

Out of nowhere, someone came in front of her, catching the football before it could hit her.

He wasn’t even looking at it. His head was turned toward her, his eyes peering into hers for any hint of impact or injury. She could get lost in those eyes -- that brilliant green. She was lost. Elena’s lips parted.

“You saved me,” she said, with a gasp of disbelief.

“You all right?” The boy’s tone was soft but his expression was focused, intent on her, and almost smouldering with concern. She could do nothing but blink. It took her a moment to realize that she was actually holding her breath again. It took her another to realize that it wasn’t because she’d almost been pummeled by a football.

“Sorry! Yes! Yeah, yeah, I’m --- thank you.”

His gaze lingered for a second before he turned around and threw the ball back. It whipped through the air at a speed Elena didn’t think she’d seen before. She chuckled. She couldn’t be sure if it was because of the adrenaline or because she was impressed.

“That was incredible. How did you throw it like that? How did you catch it like that?”

He shook his head. “I saw that it was coming toward you, and I just reacted, I guess.”

Elena felt suddenly and unexpectedly embarrassed, as if that had been the most intimate thing she’d ever heard. She was vaguely aware that they had an audience but she saw no one else, just blurs and shapes, this boy’s chiseled face the only thing she could see clearly.

“So, does my hero have a name?” She hoped he could sense the playful irony in her tone and her eyes widened slightly at the possibility that he couldn’t. She spoke quickly to fill in the silence. “Mine’s, um, I’m Elena.”

He smiled at her, his eyes glinting with … what was that? Amusement? Charm? Was he charmed? Did she charm him? Why was her heart beating so fast?

“Stefan.”

She nodded and bit her lip nervously. “I’ve never seen you around before. I would’ve remembered.”

That last part was unnecessary. Oh God.

“Uh,” he grinned, like he didn’t know what to do with the compliment. “I’m sort of new here. My family has roots in Mystic Falls, I was born here but I moved away a while ago. I just came back.”

“Just in time,” she said.

He looked at her curiously. “For?”

Me. Wait, what?

“Uh, well, our football team is in desperate need of saving. And with reflexes like yours, we might actually have a shot at not being a complete joke this year. Tryouts should be this week.”

Stefan made a face, like he wasn’t certain.

“You should do it for your moral fibre,” she continued.

He laughed at that.

“No, seriously, wasn’t it, uh, Camus!” Elena said his name like she was answering a question on a game show. “Wasn’t it him who said everything he learned about morality and obligation he learned from football?”

Stefan licked his lips and Elena did her best to keep her gaze eye-level.

He smiled. “He wasn’t talking about American football.”

“There’s non-American football?”

“Soccer.”

Elena cringed. “Oh. Right. I knew that.”

He shrugged it off. “Common mistake.”

He was kind. Elena brushed her hair from her face. The bell rang and everyone started moving toward the building.

Stefan gestured in front of him. “Shall we?”

Elena couldn’t help but smile but tried to control how widely. “We shall.”

They started toward one of the school’s entrances and even walking side by side, he kept his attention on her.

“So, you read Camus?”

“Yes. No. Well, I’m trying.” Elena couldn’t understand why she was rambling. Maybe she’d stop if he’d stop looking at her.

“I had something sort of happen to me a few months ago and it - uh - it - it changed things for me, not everything, a lot of things. Well, maybe not a lot of things, but some things…” Why couldn’t she just shut up? “So I’m trying to do … things.” Elena, she admonished herself, stop saying ‘things’. “Kind of like a New Year’s resolution just not on New Year’s…” She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly. If the universe had any decency, it would open up a hole in the ground that would swallow her up.

“That didn’t make any sense did it?”

Stefan grinned. “I get it. You have a new perspective now and because of that, you’re trying to do things you wouldn’t have before.”

That was exactly right. “Wow, you make talking look so easy.”

“Years of practice.”

She laughed at that. She didn’t remember a time laughing this much, this genuinely in such a short period of time.

They were in the hallway now and Stefan had stopped walking. Elena had the horrible feeling that he was going to head in the opposite direction of her and that it was time for them to go their separate ways.

“Thanks again,” she said.

“Any time.”

She moved to continue the way they’d been walking the same time he moved to walk down the opposite way.

They did that a few times before he stood to the side and let Elena pass.

“Thanks,” she said, hunching her shoulders, embarrassed.

She should keep walking. It would be smoother that way. Cool. Indifferent. Unaffected. It’d be what Caroline would tell her to do. She was almost around the corner. No, she couldn’t help it. She felt drawn back. A pull. She had to see him one last time. She turned her head and felt a jolt when she saw that he’d been watching her the entire time.

The rest of the morning went by in a bit of a haze. Truthfully, like most of her days since the accident. And then everything suddenly brightened to a sharp clarity just before lunch. History class. Her eyes went right to him when she walked into the room and she felt locked in even though Stefan didn’t seem to notice her. Before he could catch her staring, before Matt -- who she’d realized a second too late was also in this class -- could feel any worse, she sat down.

Mr. Tanner had been droning on for fifteen minutes but Elena wasn’t paying attention. She couldn’t even if she wanted to --- her thoughts wouldn’t let her neither would her body. Everything in her seemed to respond to Stefan’s mere presence being in the same vicinity. As if she were being called to. Which was crazy, she thought, because she didn’t even know him.

Casually. Very casually. She turned her head to glance at Stefan. A second later, his gaze met hers and embarrassed excitement bloomed in her chest, making her turn away immediately, a smile lingering on her face.

“Am I boring you, Miss Gilbert?”

Mr. Tanner saying her name made her flinch.

She wasn’t expecting it and so answered without thinking. “Kind of.” She was snapped back into reality when she heard the rest of the class titter with excitement. “Sorry, no, I didn’t mean---”

“No, no, you spoke your mind, don’t be a coward, own it. Let’s do something to correct your disinterest in my class.”

“Mr. Tanner, really…”

“Pop quiz,” he said, leaning against his desk. “The Battle of Willow Creek took place right at the end of the war in our very own Mystic Falls. How many casualties resulted in this battle?”

Elena had no idea. It had to be a lot, right? It was a battle. “A couple hundred at least.”

“Are you guessing?”

“Well, I’m trying,” she said helplessly.

The class laughed.

“It would impress me more if you just owned up to not knowing.”

“OK then, I don’t know.”

Mr. Tanner sighed. “I was willing to be lenient last year for obvious reasons, Elena. But the personal excuses ended with summer break.”

“There were three hundred and forty-six casualties,” said a deceptively light voice. “Unless you're counting local civilians.”

Elena looked behind her. Stefan was looking at Mr. Tanner with a pleasant expression on his face.

“Thank you, Miss Gilbert.”

Stefan smiled. Entirely un-intimidated.

“Your name?”

“Stefan. Stefan Salvatore.”

“Salvatore. One of the Founding Families.”

“Distant relative.”

Elena saw Matt mutter beneath his breath. It looked like it could’ve been ‘of course.’

Mr. Tanner nodded, as if deciding on how he would play the rest of the scenario. “In any case, you’re correct. Except, of course, there were no civilian casualties in this battle.”

“Actually, there were twenty-seven, sir.”

Mr. Tanner raised his eyebrows. “Twenty-seven?”

“Confederate soldiers, they fired on the church, believing it to be housing weapons. They were wrong. It was a night of great loss.”

Elena felt suddenly moved by that. Something in Stefan’s tone, in his expression told her that he was no stranger to loss. It was almost like he could feel the pain of that day as if he'd lived it.

“The founder's archives are, uh, stored in civil hall if you'd like to brush up on your facts, Mr. Tanner.”

Elena’s mouth fell open in gleeful shock and admiration.

Mr. Tanner’s eyes flashed. “Cute,” he said. “You know I let it slide before when you swooped in to save Elena, no doubt to impress her, even though I didn’t call on you to speak but I won’t tolerate rudeness. Pack up, go to the office.”

“Well, don’t get upset at him because he knows more about your subject than you,” said Elena.

The class tittered again and Stefan shot Elena an amused expression. She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.

Mr. Tanner let out a nasty laugh. “Well, isn’t this sweet, the lovebirds defending each other. You can join him in the office, Elena. Come on, let’s go.”

Outside in the hall, Stefan was already walking in the direction of the office and Elena reacted.

“Hey,” she called out.

He turned around. She didn’t really have a plan. She just didn’t want to go to the office and she didn’t want him to go either. She wanted time. She realized right then and there, she would probably always want more time with him.

Elena walked over to a door and pushed it open. She tilted her head -- you coming? He grinned.

They decided to walk around the track, spending a few moments just ambling next to each other as the sun beamed down.

It was weirdly comfortable. Elena didn’t feel the need to talk to fill the silence. It was also strange how calm she felt. Earlier, being around him made her nervous, light-headed, and now she just felt ... anchored.

She’d never experienced that before.

“Bit bold of you, you know,” she said finally. “New school, new - well - old town, but first day and you’re already making trouble?”

“Well, I live on the edge.”

Elena giggled. “I can see that.”

“What about you? Mouthing off to a teacher on the first day? Very edgy,” he said, deadpanned.

She snorted. “Well, I nearly died. What’s your excuse?”

He turned to her then and Elena mentally kicked herself.

“That the thing that got you on your not New Year’s resolution?” he asked. “What Tanner was talking about?”

Elena brushed it off. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s…”

She glanced sideways at him to see if he would just change the conversation to something else he wanted to talk about but his expression was interested. Open.

“My parents and I got into a crash last May. Over on Wickery Bridge.” She shrugged. “That’s it, that’s the story.”

“Mm,” he said. “Maybe that’s what happened but it’s not the story.”

How did he know that?

“You don’t like talking about it.” The way he said it, Elena knew he wouldn’t press the subject if she didn’t feel like continuing.

“I just don’t really feel like I can say anything about it,” she found herself saying. “I lived, you know, I survived. My parents survived. I shouldn’t…”

“Have feelings about it?”

Elena had never really thought of it like that before. “Everyone’s just so ready for it to be in the past, you know?”

“A car crash isn’t a little thing. Nearly dying is the most transformative thing you can experience. It’s OK if you’re not OK about it right now. There’s a lot to process.”

“You know, I go to the bridge everyday? The spot we skidded off and into the river. Morbid, right?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Seems like you’re trying to keep a promise to yourself. Going to the bridge helps remind you of that.”

“Yeah.” The word barely came out as a whisper.

How did he know that? Know her? Elena felt … recognized. And bare. Yet … safe. This. Was. Crazy.

“A promise…” She repeated. “And that’s the other thing too, it’s like it’s made me restless. Like, I got a second chance, a miracle, who gets that in their lifetime, you know? And I don’t want to waste it. But everything seems dumb and superficial now. I just want to live, you know, live with … with, uh--”

“Passion?”

She nodded. “Right.”

“In my experience, it’s the dumb stuff, the small stuff, that’s what makes up living. By all means, if you want to climb Everest, climb Everest, you know, but going to a concert or a pickup game or …

“Family night,” said Elena.

“Who says you can’t do those things passionately?”

Elena didn’t remember when they stopped walking but they were standing now

and the feeling … that feeling … of being recognized had deepened into something more acute, more intense and she felt the urge, the need to be that person, that space for him. Right then and there, she wanted to pour into him, and wanted him to ---

A crow cawed.

Breaking the reverie.

Elena turned sharply toward it. She couldn’t be sure but it seemed like the same one from the bridge. As soon as the thought entered her mind, Damon’s face flashed before her eyes, and she took a deep breath in. Stefan touched her arm. She wanted him to keep her hand there forever.

“You OK? Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere,” she said. “I’m here. I…” She took another breath and looked around for the crow. It was gone. “The crow … it reminds me of someone. Someone I saw earlier, before school.”

“Someone you know?”

“No. Not exactly. I’d met him once before.” She closed her eyes, searching for the words to describe what was happening to her. “I don’t know, since then there’s just been this feeling in the pit of my stomach. It went away for a bit, when…” When she was talking to him. When she was relaxed. “But it just came back. It’s like something I can’t seem to shake.”

“Sounds like he made an impression.”

She looked at him. “There are better impressions, believe me.”

Stefan’s eyes searched hers and it happened again. Immediately. He was drawing her into him and she was falling and falling...

“Hey, your face. Is there something---”

“Sorry.” Stefan shielded his eyes from her. “Sorry, I … sorry, I’ve gotta go.”

“Uh…”

Elena watched Stefan walk away, his stride swift, and felt a sharp stab of disappointment that they were no longer talking, no longer in the same place together,

A few seconds later, the bell signalling lunch rang.

The moment Elena opened her locker, it was slammed shut and her best friend, Bonnie Bennett, was standing beside her. Elena let out a sigh of relief. “Bonnie! Why did you--?”

“You and the new hottie. The whole school’s talking. Dish.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” said Elena casually. Too casually.

Bonnie looked at her. “That always means there’s something to tell. And I can tell because---”

“Because you’re a psychic now?”

“Because I was sitting by the window in calc. and I saw the two of you walking around the track. And you two were vibing. Don’t deny it.”

“Oh, please.”

“Aimee Bradley said that he defended your honour in Mr. Tanner’s class. She said he cussed Tanner out and stormed out of class..”

Elena made a noise of disbelief. “Since when did you listen to Aimee Bradley?”

Bonnie shrugged. “She’s not the only one saying it.”

“That literally did not happen! He just---”

Elena was interrupted.

“Well, your nose doesn’t look broken,” she said, nudging her way between Elena and Bonnie.

“Hi, Caroline.”

Elena exchanged a quick look with Bonnie who tried to stifle a laugh.

“And what do you mean my nose doesn’t look broken?”

“Oh, everyone’s talking about how Matt threw a football at your face to get back at you for dumping him and the new guy beat the shit out of him on the green.”

“What!” Elena looked at Caroline incredulously. “Oh my God, guys! Nothing you’re saying happened! Someone --- not Matt, he tried to warn me -- threw a football, it almost hit me and---”

“And the new guy saved you from massive embarrassment on the first day?” said Caroline. “It’s just so typical. There is a finite amount of hot guys at this school and when we finally get new blood, you get there first. You’ve already dated the captain of the football team, you had this encounter with some mystery man---”

Elena unconsciously tensed at the memory and Bonnie looked at Caroline pointedly, who closed her eyes.

“Sorry, I’m a bitch,” she said. “I shouldn’t have brought up that night.”

Elena sighed, half-exasperated but already on her way to forgetting the insensitivity. “I never said that guy was hot by the way.”

“Oh, please, mystery men are always hot. It’s like a rule,” said Caroline, apparently over her brief bout of contrition.

Elena addressed Bonnie. “You know I actually saw him again today before coming to school?”

Bonnie shook her head. “Really?”

“Yeah, the vibes were … weird.”

Bonnie squinted. “Weird, like, dangerous, weird?”

Elena opened her mouth but didn’t say anything . “It was definitely intense. But not like…” Not like what she’d felt when she spoke to Stefan. “I don’t know, it kind of made me queasy?”

“Butterflies,” said Caroline, throwing up her hands. “So, the sexy, dangerous mystery man gives you butterflies--”

“I never said--”

“And now you’ve got the other mystery guy who actually goes here saving you on the green like some freaking knight?”

Elena rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. He caught a football.”

But even when she tried to minimize what had happened verbally, physically she felt her heart thud and a jittery, giddy flutter in her stomach that made her want to laugh to get the feeling out.

“And stood up to Tanner on your behalf,” said Bonnie.

Caroline shook her head like she was severely disappointed in Elena. “You’re being so greedy.”

Bonnie snorted and rested her head on Caroline’s shoulder.

Elena opened her locker again. “Look, I’m not even thinking about Stefan.”

“So the new guy’s name is Stefan.”

“I could be talking about the mystery man on the bridge.”

“You’re not, I can tell by that big, dumb smile you’re trying to hide,” said Bonnie.

Elena popped her head out from behind her locker door and gave Bonnie a playful grimace.

“Anyway. I’m actually thinking about Jeremy. I haven’t seen him anywhere. Have you two?”

Caroline rooted around in her bag for some lip gloss. “Elena, if I ever start caring about the comings-and-goings of sophomores, shoot me.”

“That’s Caroline-speak for ‘no’,” said Bonnie. “And I haven’t either.”

“I’m kind of worried. He never skips school.” Elena pulled a contemplative face. “Bonnie, do you mind if we, like, quickly go over to my house to see if he’s there? I’m sure there’s something in the fridge we can eat so we won’t miss lunch.”

Caroline made an expression as if Elena had said the dumbest thing she ever heard. “In all of the times we’ve skipped school, when have we ever stayed home? He’s probably at the stoner’ pit or something.”

Bonnie snorted. “Yeah, Jeremy, a burnout. Please.”

“No, he could be at home. I don’t know, all summer he’s either been on his Xbox or pining after Vicki Donovan. Maybe he’s pretending to be sick and he’s still in his room.”

“If he’s been pining after Vicki Donovan then he’s definitely at the stoner pit probably trying to impress her..”

“Caroline!” Bonnie gave her an admonishing hit on the arm.

“What! You know I’m not wrong.”

“Don’t be mean just because you’ve had a thing for Tyler since fifth grade.”

“Shut up.”

Bonnie laughed. “Elena, I’ll give you a lift.”

“Since when was your family pack rats?” said Bonnie.

They’d made it to Elena’s house and walked into the foyer. The closet beneath the stairs was open and there were a bunch of boxes around the door, crammed with what looked to be junk. Papers. Dusty journals.

“I don’t know, this wasn’t here when I left this morning,” said Elena.

“You think Jeremy took it out?”

“Yeah, but why?”

Bonnie shrugged.

“Jeremy?” Elena called.

When there was no answer, she walked into the living room and didn’t see him there or in the kitchen.

“Some leftover spaghetti in the fridge,” said Elena to Bonnie. “I’m just going to check upstairs and then I’ll be right down.”

Bonnie nodded. “OK cool. I love pasta night at your house.”

“It’s the oregano,” said Elena, grinning.

She headed up the stairs. She could definitely here talking. Low talking. But it wasn’t coming from Jeremy’s room. She turned around. It was coming from her parents’. It was the middle of the day. Neither one of them should be home. Elena felt like suddenly she shouldn’t be up there. Something was wrong or secret or … She walked slowly down the hall toward the room. The door was nearly closed, but not quite. She peaked through the crack. Jeremy on a chair. So, he did stay home. And then … Dad. He let him stay home? And then … was that … was he holding … a stake?

#stelena #stefan salvatore #elena gilbert #the vampire diaries #dobsley #paul wesley #nina dobrev #stelena fanfiction #maybe if you and i had met first ... oh please

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