#they take away jaspers golden curls

[letmeinnnnn]

Twilight Reboot???

So I heard tell of a Twilight TV series in the works. My sister was a HUGE Twilight fan. I never shared her passion; however, as someone who went to every movie with her and read most of the books for her- I have some thoughts.

1. Initially it just said a new series so I was hopeful it might be something new-- What I would’ve liked to see is a series going more in depth into the individual stories of each Cullen vampire and showing how they all came together

Unfortunately she tells me the series is planned to be just another remake.

2. Which leads to thought #2 which is that I’m ??? because Twilight as a film holds up today imo- like it doesn’t feel super outdated (I was shook to look up that it came out in 2008 fuck)

3. At the very least, I’ll be curious to see the cast

sidenote: the breaking dawn movies were the worst in many ways, but the thing that always killed me-- the hair stylist???? they dropped the ball at the last part! how did they manage to mess that up?! edward and jasper’s styles were busted in breaking dawn

#we went to volterra italy okay #she LOOOVED twilight #twilight reboot #Number 1 exists in my ideal fantasy world #because I was always most interested in the cullen family #edward jacob bella- not at all #anyway I don't know a whole lot about this but had to comment on it #twilight book series #twilight movie series #twilight remake #twilight #why would #they take away jaspers golden curls

[junkdrawerfics]

Swan Sisters (Part 1)

Jasper Whitlock X Reader

Bella Swan and Sister!Reader focus

Request:  Hello :D, I did like to make a request where Jasper's mate is Bella's older sister that lived with Charlie instead of going with her mother, so she was turned into a vampire even before Bella comes back so when she moves to Forks the reader avoids Bella for some time.

Note: I have attempted, though it definitely ran away from me! Part 2 coming soon, because I felt like it was getting too long. I really loved this request, and I hope I'm doing it justice.

Word Count: 3962

Warnings: None that I can think of! Maybe a bit jumpy, also does not really follow the book timeline, so apologies to any hardcore fans out there! There's gonna be discrepancies.

---

“Bella’s gonna come live with us for a while.”

“What?”

Your head shoots up, eyes impossibly wide as you stare at Charlie, your father.

“Yup. Your mom’s hitting the road with Bill, so Bells is going to come stay here,” Charlie explains as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“His name is Phil, dad,” you snort, though you still can’t wrap your mind around the news.

“Close enough,” he grumbles as he goes back to his paper.

You let out a heavy sigh, an old habit, and wring your fingers together.

This is really not good. Really really not good. 

You haven’t seen your younger sister since you were turned. It’s hard enough being around Charlie, you had to go on a month long “roadtrip” to adjust, which was actually just a month at the Cullen’s Alaskan home with Jasper. It’s easier when you’re with him, since he helps keep you in control. Everything is easier with Jasper by your side.

But you can’t have him at your side all the time here, in your home. Charlie wouldn’t like that. You cope for the most part, since you just graduated and work from home. Billy and Jake are the only ones who visit, and they don’t exactly smell all that great. Besides them, it’s still a struggle to be around other humans, and the thought that you might hurt Bella? It makes your chest hurt.

“I’m going for a run,” you mumble, throat tight, and you can’t tell if it’s thirst or anxiety. Either way, the buzzing under your skin is only getting worse the longer you do nothing.

“Take some mace with you, there’s been some weird animal activity in the woods recently,” Charlie calls as you head for the door.

“Sure thing.”

You tuck the canister of mace into your pocket despite knowing how pointless it is. You could handle anything in the woods with your bare hands, but if it helps Charlie feel at ease, you might as well.

You get a few paces from the house before you take off like a bullet. The forest whips by, blurry and focused all at once. Every deer, every squirrel, every spider, you can feel it, hear it as clearly as you can hear your feet pounding against the ground. And you can hear voices ahead of you as you near the glassy house tucked deep in the forest.

Alice must have seen you coming, because Jasper is waiting on the doorsteps, dark eyebrows set in concern, jaw tense. You come to a stuttering stop in front of him, practically falling into his arms when he opens them for you. The moment they wrap around you, all the anxiety, the worry, the fear, dims into a low hum, replaced with something warm and comforting and so Jasper.

His question rests heavily in the silent moment you take to compose yourself, to just breathe in his scent. Old books and gunpowder. He hasn’t touched a gun in ages, but somehow it lingers, and you love it. It reminds you that everything turns out for the better, just like you and him.

“Bella’s coming to stay with us,” you confide into his neck, fingers curling in his sweatshirt.

Jasper’s arms tighten just a fraction around you. “You’re scared.”

“More like terrified,��� you breathe and pull back to look into his eyes, golden just like yours, like the sun. If you didn’t feel so much like crying, you’d bask in it, but you can’t do either now, and all that comes out is your voice, broken and shaky, “I don’t want to hurt her, Jas. She’s my little sister. I can’t hurt her.”

“You won’t,” Jasper insists softly, hands coming up to hold your face, fingers cool and smooth against your cheeks.

“How can you be sure?” 

“Because, darlin’, you care too much. Under this fear, you’re all…stubbornness.” The corners of his lips quirk up. “But if you’d like, we could take another trip, jus’ you and me. I hear Brazil’s nice this time of year.”

You shake your head, “As much as I love the sound of that, cowboy, I don’t think my dad will be such a fan of me disappearing again.”

“That’s a shame, I sure wouldn’t mind seein’ you-”

“Jas.” You narrow your eyes, and the vampire smirks.

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Let’s stay on topic, shall we?” You chirp, resisting your own urge to smile.

“My apologies, ma’am.” Jasper gives you a mock bow and takes your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles, eyes dancing with mirth as he looks up at you.

This does get you to smile, “You are ridiculous, mister.”

“And you’ve calmed down.”

You pause, check in with yourself. Jasper always seems to be more aware of your feelings than you are thanks to his ability. And he’s right, you do feel calmer. Your mind is clearer and the urge to run has dimmed. The worry is still there though.

You can’t let her figure out what you’ve become, or what the Cullens are. You don’t want to leave Forks, after all, and you can’t leave Charlie behind. So you’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t figure it out. Shouldn’t be that hard, right?

---

The moment Bella steps into the house, you realize just how wrong you are.

The scent of fresh blood hits you like a truck, or perhaps something worse considering you could handle a truck now. A werewolf maybe. It makes you falter, chest completely freezing as you stop breathing all together.

You were very, very wrong.

“Hey, Tinkerbell,” you greet her, forcing every bit of warmth into your voice despite the pain creeping up your throat.

Bella rolls her eyes, but a smile pulls at her lips as she sets her suitcase down, “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Sorry, but it’s a forever thing, hun,” you chirp and move to give her a quick hug. She accepts it far too awkwardly, which you’d tease her for any other day, but you’re more focused on putting some distance between you. “So, how was the trip?”

Your sister looks at you for a moment, something unreadable in her eyes, which makes you shuffle your feet out of habit. Did she notice the cold skin thing? You’d put on several layers though, and you’ve both always run cold. Maybe your eyes? No, no you’re wearing the contacts. 

“You look different.”

Crap.

You feign innocence, casting her a confused glance, “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know…”

“Your sister’s on a big health kick, she’s looked different since she started.”

Thank God for Charlie.

“Health kick?” Bella raises an eyebrow at you, far too smug for your liking.

“All you’re nagging finally paid off,” you huff, secretly relieved.

“Not on me,” Charlie points out, almost proudly.

This takes most of the attention off of you thankfully, as Bella turns to chastise your father and they fall into an all too familiar debate. She’s still the same Bella, and Charlie is still Charlie. You’re the only one who’s changed.

Something twinges in your long-still heart.

You don’t regret your decision, you could never regret choosing Jasper, but looking at your family, you can’t help but realize how temporary this will all be. While you will end up disappearing with some elaborate story, they’ll keep living, keep aging. They’re human and you’re not anymore.

Another breeze catches Bella’s scent, the fire in your throat flaring back to the front of your mind. You swallow dryly.

Focus, (Y/n), focus.

Without a sound, you busy yourself grabbing Bella’s bags and taking them to her room. It’s all you can do to stop the hunger from taking you away. It’s like you didn’t just feed a few hours ago, like you haven’t fed in weeks. You haven’t felt this bad since you first turned.

If only Jasper was here. It’d be so much easier if you could just tuck yourself into his chest, forget the world for even a moment. But then he’d be struggling just as much as you are. You could never ask that of him.

So you tuck yourself into your room, shouting down the stairs that you have some work to do. Even when Billy and Jacob drive up in the truck Charlie bought for Bella, you merely perch at the window and watch on. Billy must feel your gaze because he glances up to you, his lips pinching into a thin line when your eyes meet.

Is it even possible for someone to look more disapproving? You can’t imagine it, looking down at Billy right now. To think, the man used to be like a second father to you. And then you turned, and suddenly you were on opposite sides of a longstanding war.

You miss him, and Jacob. So much.

All that’s left of that relationship is a curt nod, a small sign of respect, before Billy turns back to Charlie as if nothing happened. At least you know he won’t say anything. That would hurt Charlie more than you.

With a soft sigh, you watch as Bella hops into her truck. She leans forward, obviously looking for something in the house. You lift a hand, catching her attention. Bella sends you a relieved smile, waving back, before she shifts into gear and backs out of the driveway. Off to school, you guess.

You take a deep breath, letting the clean smell of your room fill your senses. It helps sooth the pain in your throat, enough that you can think a little clearer.

You need to stay as far away from Bella as possible. At least, for the time being, until you get used to her scent. She’ll probably notice, your sister has always been more perspective than you give her credit for. After all, it’s no diet that’s changed the way you look. 

You’ll just have to be even more careful.

---

“What?”

You blink owlishly, glancing between Jasper and the rest of the coven to Edward, who looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him look. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look nervous.

“She’s his singer,” Alice explains softly.

“Bella?”

“Yes.”

“My sister?”

“...Yes.”

An indescribable feeling burns in your chest as you cast another glare towards Edward.

I’m going to kill him.

“I didn’t do anything!” He exclaims, holding his hands up defensively.

“She’s my sister, Edward,” You growl, temper simpering.

“It’s not like I have a choice in the matter,” he snaps back.

You lunge for the man, only stopping when a pair of arms circle around your waist like iron bars. You snarl, struggling against the bonds, clinging to the anger burning in your chest when a flood of calm water rushes in to wipe it away.

“Let me go, Jasper,” you bite out, but his grip only tightens.

“Calm down.” His voice is firm, his ability cloaking you further with calm calm calm.

You grit your teeth, eyes clenching as you shake your head, as if that can rid you of his powers. You don’t want to be calm. You want to tear Edward limb from limb. Every morsel of your being is screaming at you to protect your sister, protect your family, even though you know Edward would never hurt someone.

It’s impossible to hold out long against Jasper’s ability though. You’re one of the few that actually can resist, if only for a short time. But eventually, you have to give in. You slump back into Jasper’s hold. The last strands of your fury melt away, soothed when your mate presses a kiss to your temple with a low hum.

With one final deep breath, you turn back to Edward, “So, what are you going to do?”

“I can’t stay here,” he murmurs, voice tight, “Not with what Alice has seen. I’ll go to the Denari, stay with them for a while.”

“For how long?”

“However long it takes.”

You purse your lips and nod, “Be safe. And don’t be long okay? I may want to kill you now, but I’ll miss you.”

Edward flashes a snarky grin your way before nodding to the rest of his family and disappearing to go tell Carlisle. The others disperse as well, probably wanting to occupy themselves after such a crazy day. You huff softly. 

It must be difficult for all of them to be separated from him, since they’ve been together for so long. Even after just a few years, you’ve come to love Edward like the brother you never had, which makes you feel all the more conflicted about all of this.

Instead of facing it, you turn to Jasper and wrap your arms around his waist, chin propping against his chest as you gaze up at him,“How did you feel today? Everything okay?”

“Besides the constant concern from my siblings?” He sighs, and you brush your fingers comfortingly along his jaw. Jasper leans into your touch, kind of like a content cat. “I find myself still struggling with certain…urges.”

You hum softly, “I hope you’re not ashamed of that.”

Jasper perks a brow at you.

“I just mean that you should keep in mind how hard you’re working,” you elaborate, “Give yourself credit for that, Jas. You may have to work twice as hard as them, but you’re doing so well. I mean, look at us. You knew me for years as a human, and I know how hard that was for you, but you never, ever hurt me.”

The blond purses his lips, glancing between your eyes for a silent moment. It’s only when he feels your sincerity, a feeling akin to a warm blanket on a cold day, that the tension drips from his shoulders.

“You really are something, darlin’,” he murmurs, lips pulling into a slanted grin as he ducks down to press a kiss to your lips, “Worryin’ about me when you’re facin’ your own problems.”

“Well, I can always just come here when Bella’s home, you’re stuck in that school. I’m sure she’ll notice me avoiding her, but that’s better than her ending up dead, right?” The words send a pang through your chest.

“Based on today, I’d say your need to protect her far outweighs your thirst, sweetheart,” Jasper drawls, a touch of humor in his tone, “You looked this close to killing, Edward.”

“Oh, I would have. If he even touches her, I still might.” Jasper grins amusedly down at you, despite how serious you are trying to be. You set your lips into a stubborn frown to hide your own smile. “Seriously! I need you to keep an eye on him at the school when he comes back, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” You huff and stretch onto your toes to press a kiss to his curled lips. Jasper chases after you as you pull away, but you cover his mouth before he can draw you into anything more. A giggle breaks past your facade when his brows steeple, eyes narrowing at you. “Sorry! But I need to go home, mister. I may have to keep my distance, but goodness knows Charlie can’t cook, and we don’t have food to make anything, so I need to make sure that girl gets something good to eat.”

“You can get there in seconds,” Jasper grumbles through your fingers, grip tightening around your waist as he pulls you even closer.

“Yes, but we both know that I won’t be leaving anytime soon if you start something,” you point out, a teasing smile on your lips, “And it’s not like I’ll be gone long. I’ll come back tonight, okay?”

That’s when the sad puppy look comes out. For being the strong, southern hero type, Jasper is secretly a sucker for some soft attention, and he’s figured out exactly how to get it. He quickly mastered the puppy-eyes once he realized how they weaken your resolve. The little, conniving devil knows exactly how to get to you.

“Don’t give me that look,” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut, “Please, Jaz? I promise I’ll come back.”

“...fine.” Jasper relents, you can feel his grin under your fingers. “I’ll be waitin’ for you, darlin’.”

“I love you, Jazzy.”

His laughter fills you with a warmth you no longer have. You’d be a blushing mess if you could, especially when he kisses your palm, all gentle and soft, eyes alight with mischief.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I already was.”

“I swear-”

---

The next week goes by miraculously, somehow, between you avoiding Bella and Edward being gone. You get away with a few lies whenever Bella tries to talk to you.

Oh, I have some work I need to finish tonight.

My boss is about to call, can we talk later?

Sorry Bells, work is just killing me this week.

Each time, when you have to watch her face fall, guilt claws viciously at your chest. It’s not like you want to avoid her. If anything, you wish you could just sit down, spend hours talking, about school, about boys, about everything. But everytime she gets close, the familiar burning feeling comes back. Weaker and weaker each time, thank the heavens, but you still can’t bring yourself to linger.

Bella doesn’t seem too keen on being patient though, as she corners you one evening while you’re cooking dinner.

“Do you know the Cullens?”

Every muscle in your body goes still, but only for a millisecond, before you force yourself to keep moving, breathing, blinking.

“Kind of! As well as most people, at least.” Not exactly a lie. “I knew of them while I was in school.”

“How about Edward?”

Ah. You recognize that tone. The slight interest, a touch of curiosity. 

It’s exactly how you felt when you first learned about the Cullens, when you met Jasper.

“What, are you into him?” You cast her a glance, eyebrow raised teasingly.

“What? No!” Oh, she’s blushing. Now you really have to keep an eye on Edward. “He’s a total weirdo anyways.”

You snort, “Yah?”

“I have biology with him, and he just…I don’t know. He was so weird, and then I caught him trying to change classes after school. I think he hates me, but I don’t know why.” She looks so put out by the idea, an all too familiar pout on her lips.

“I doubt that’s the case, Bells,” you chime, “Edward’s not that kind of guy.”

“I thought you said you barely know him?”

Whoops.

You smile down at your soup nervously, “I don’t, I just meant that he doesn’t seem like that kind of guy. The Cullens are weird, but Dr. Cullen is a kind man. Dad likes him.”

Plus, you know exactly why Edward acted that way, not that you can tell her. It’s far from hatred, you think bemusedly.

“So you don’t think it’s a coincidence? Him asking to leave the class the day I start? Or that he hasn’t come back to school since?” Bella crosses her arms, staring you down with the stubbornness of a bull. She really is Charlie’s daughter.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Tinker Bell. Maybe he just got sick?” You force a smile, despite the pit opening in your stomach from the lie. “Boys are weird, take it from me.”

“Does that mean you have a boyfriend?”

“And dinner’s ready!” You squeak, dancing right past that question, “Could you go tell dad?”

“Sure.” Bella gives you a look that says this conversation definitely isn’t over, but does as you asked anyways.

You breathe a sigh of relief once she’s out of the room.

Of all the things to start talking about, of course she would pick the Cullens. You can’t blame her, you really can’t. When they first showed up in Forks, everyone was inexplicably drawn to the vampires. Not so inexplicably, you guess. You were drawn to Jasper the moment you laid eyes on him. His quiet, almost shy demeanor did you in, and the accent. To this day, you still swoon over that deep, southern drawl.

And now it’s like you’re watching it all from the start. The disappearing. The self-doubt. The intrigue. Except it’s Bella and Edward instead of you and Jasper. 

“So, what’s for dinner, (Y/n)?” Charlie rubs his hands together as he shuffles into the kitchen.

“Tortellini soup, old man. Low sodium, but plenty of chicken, just for you,” You tease as you put a bowl in front of him.

“Dad, does (Y/n) have a boyfriend?” Bella follows close behind, and you can’t help but quawk at her.

“Bella!”

“She sure does,” Charlie snorts as he blows on his soup, “That Cullen boy.”

Bella shoots you a look, something between a glare and something smug. You cringe away, busying yourself with cleaning up. You’re screwed, you’re so screwed.

“Which Cullen boy?” She presses.

“The blond one. Not too bad, that kid.” And Charlie is completely oblivious! He’s supposed to be on your side here!

“I thought you said you barely know them?” Bella prompts, brow raised in accusation.

Think quick, (Y/n).

“They’re a private family, Bells, and you don’t understand how people are here.” You dig into old emotions, one’s you’ve long since buried. Hopefully it’ll make her uncomfortable enough to stop. “When it came out in school that Jasper and I were dating, people were horrible to me. I don’t like talking about it.”

It brings back every pain seeded in your heart. You faced it all. Jealousy, hateful notes shoved into your locker, obscene rumors whispered as you walked down the halls. Everyone you grew up with, everyone you loved, turned on you, just like that. You had no one except the Cullens and Charlie after that.

“I have work to do,” you mutter, grabbing a bowl of soup to pour down your sink later. “Enjoy the food.”

“(Y/n)-”

“I’m sure he’ll come back soon, Bells. Give him the benefit of the doubt when he does.” You give her a gentle, sad smile. “He is a good guy.”

And with that, you disappear upstairs, every step like a heavy weight, pulling you underwater.

It’s not supposed to be this hard. You’re supposed to be able to tell her everything. That’s how it’s always been. Even when your parents divorced, even when they moved to Arizona, you and Bella never drifted apart. You told her every tiny detail of your life.

Until high school.

When it all happened, you were just so…embarrassed. You’re the older sister, you were supposed to be strong, set a good example, show her that she could do anything. But you just ended up drowning, with Jasper as your only source of air.

So you’ll do anything for him, for the Cullens, even if that means lying to your sister. And it’s protecting her too, you remind yourself as you settle down at your desk. The less she and Charlie know, the safer they are from the Volturi.

You can do that, at least. Protect them. Both the Cullens and your family. No matter how many lies you have to tell, or creative answers you have to whip up for Bella’s sure to be unending number of questions, you will protect them.

And who knows! You perk up, trying your hardest to be positive. Maybe this won’t be exactly like you and Jasper. Maybe this is just a passing curiosity that will let up once Edward comes home, and you can forget it all in a week. Eventually you’ll be able to talk to her about Jasper, just without all the bloody details.

Yah. Once she’s safe, from you and the looming threat that comes with this truth, everything will go back to normal. Hopefully.

---

I'm struggling a bit with this one but I'm really enjoying the concept! There's just so many ideas to go with, and I want to write them all! Who knows how far it'll go haha.

Part 2

#reader insert #x reader #reader #twilight saga #twilight #jasper whitlock #jasper hale #jasper x reader #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #vampire reader #swan reader

[mermaidgirl30]

Love Amidst The Blue Sneak Peek

A/N: I will most likely drop the first chapter this weekend, so here is a little sneak peek of my sailor/treasure hunter Joel and mermaid au. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged 💙

Joel clings to the side of the boat as he digs his nails into the warm, polished wood. He turns his head to watch his crew stay busy on the deck as they bustle around and drag their worn out shoes against the floorboards. He sighs and takes another look at his intricate map, tracing his finger over every crevice of the parchment until he gets frustrated and throws his head up to look out on the bright horizon.

As soon as he looks up, he stops cold as he spots the gleam of a sparkling tail in the near distance. It’s not just a tail, there’s a girl leaning up against a rock that’s staring right back at him. He rubs his eyes to make sure it’s not the sun playing tricks on his mind, but she still appears there in the same spot just staring blankly at him. He sees a young woman who’s beautiful, dreamlike, something he only thought was a fantasy. He sees you, a mermaid…

Mermaids aren’t real, mermaids can’t be real. But how does he explain what he clearly sees now? You are very much real.

His ears ring with white noise, the sounds of his crew scrubbing along the deck nearly nonexistent now. It’s just you and him, staring at each other as if you’re the only two people out on the calm waters. It’s just the gentle breeze kissing his tanned skin and the distant noise of waves lapping against the rock that you so subtly lean against, eyes locking with each other as if the world crashes on its side to bring the two of you together.

He grabs his golden telescope, looking through the lense as you come into view just inches from his vision. The sight of you nearly knocks the breath out of him, his eyes widen as he takes in the beauty that sits before him. He thinks you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on, thinks you’re absolutely divine, a treasure that should be well cared for.

His eyes trail down your lush curves, taking in the dusty coral colored seashells that cover your breasts, scanning every inch of your shimmering tail that’s soft pink as it flicks back and forth against the water. It’s almost sparkling like diamonds, maybe even soft to the touch. He wonders what you feel like, what you sound like. He bets your voice is like an angel’s, captivating and melodic like nothing he’s ever heard on earth. He wonders what your hands feel like, how they’d feel entwined in his own.

You should swim away, dive back underneath the blue water, but you can’t move. You can’t look away from the handsome stranger. You want to know his name, want to ask him all about what land life is like, want to know if his voice is as soft as his tousled curls look like, want to see him again and again…

“Cap’n, whatcha lookin’ at?” Jasper asks as he comes up to Joel and nearly sends him over the edge of the boat. Joel drops the telescope from his unsteady hand, and it lands in a heap on the wooden deck. He scrambles to pick it up, and when he stands up and looks back out at the rock he sees that you’re gone.

He huffs out a sigh and shakes his head slowly. “It was nothing, Jas. Just thought I saw something. Was only a dolphin, nothing else,” he says with a hint of sadness on his tongue, wishing you were still on the rock so he could look into your entrancing eyes.

“Too bad it wasn’t a mermaid. Could’ve made you a true believer,” Jasper laughs as he hits Joel on the back of the shoulder with more force than he meant to.

“Yeah, too bad…” Joel says quietly as he stares at the vacant rock, doing nothing for his peace of mind as he wishes you were still there.

#joel miller smut #joel miller #mermaid au #sailor! joel #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel miller pedro pascal #joel x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #protective joel

[laceandhalos]

February Daily Writing Challenge Day 2 - Opportunity

Sylrissa finally got the 8 months down to sleep.  Braeden curled up with the blanket that had once been Lily’s well-loved and worn but for whatever reason, it helped him sleep just as it did Lily 10 years ago. 

Finally Lady Ravenmourn would have the Opportunity to spend some one on one time with her daughter.  Quietly she tip-toed from her son’s room toward the dance hall where Lily was hamming it up. Music blared, a song Sylrissa knew was Lily’s favorite.  While her daughter had ballerina and court lessons later for now it was time to be silly and full of giggles.  Soon Lily would hit teenager stage and these moments would be fair and fewer.  Would she resent her mother for living a shelter life?  True they traveled as much as possible, explored the world where it was safe, but Sylrissa did all she could to keep her kids away from the darkness that plagued the Ravenmourn line. 

Even Braeden would be kept from knowing his real mother for as long as Sylrissa could manage it.  Maeskia did send presents and letters every opportunity she got herself.  Yet Syl could not bring herself to put any trust into her own sister.  It was best his biological mother stayed away.  Papers had been signed Braeden was fully hers now. 

“Mom! Did you hear?  They are selling tickets to the concert! I wanna go see this band in person.”  Lily cried as she ran to her mom and clung to her hips.  Long blue eyes peered up at Sylrissa’s golden ones.  “Pleeeeeeeeeease….” Tension filled Sylrissa thinking of the girl she was at clubs and parties herself.  “Well… Maybe if we can find someone to watch your little brother.  Though I would prefer it be a few years before I take you to some loud concert.”  

“Oh come on, you are no fun!  Jasper’s parents took him to one last week.”  Lips pouted as Lily pushed away from her mom and crossed her arms. 

“Okay, I have to listen to every song first of theirs first before I give approval okay?  If I feel it is not kid friendly my answer is now.”  Sylrissa gave a stern look but grabbed her daughter’s hand.  A twirl was offered to the young blonde who spun around full of giggles.  

“Fine… but there are some curse words.” Lily blushed hoping that would not ruin her chance to see them in person.    A cry from the other room was heard as Braeden decided sleep was not something he wanted to do.  

With guilty Sylirssa pressed a kiss to Lily’s cheek.  She had to run and get him.  “Maybe..”  Lady Ravenmourn replied as she hurried back to the baby knowing Lily needed some major mom time too.

@daily-writing-challenge

#februarydwc #februarydwc2023 #Sylrissa Ravenmourn #I need a band that is rp current for lily to love

[venusflytrps-a]

ANSWERED ASK - MARIA 

@altarcup​ asked “  i don’t need you in my life.  i don’t want you in it.  ” jasper 

A sharp tongue clicks against her pearly whites that could easily release into FANGS at any moment. She had allowed Jasper to challenge her at times, sure - it was fun, but only as long as she had the upper hand. And she could feel him slipping. Heeled boots draw her closer to her most useful progeny, narrowed browns soaking in his defiance.

With a swiftness she coils herself around him from behind, like a python trapping its prey. One claw trapping a fistful of his golden curls, pulled back toward her, the other wrapped around his throat. A move she’d taught him to use on other would-be TRAITORS. “You wouldn’t have this life without me.” The words hissed into his ear with a venom that let him know how easily she could take it away. Her body is silently begging his to engage in the thrill of one of their mock battles, for him to use her own training that he’d mastered so well against her. She is sure it would remind him how much his REVELLED in violence. A sweetness seeps into her tone, echoing the one she’d drawn him in with as a human man with all his predictable DESIRES. Lips graze his earlobe, honeyed notes decorating her accent. “Your body would miss me, mi amor. You can convince yourself otherwise all you like but you know it’s true.”

#OOP SHE #is gonna try everything bc she knows he means it #altarcup #maria

[undercoveravenger]

Regrets

Written for my 2021 Halloween event

Prompt: Jasper under a love spell

A/N: This is prompt # 7 for my Halloween event! The next prompt will be posted Sunday, October 17th.

-----

Jasper Hale was staring at you again.

When you felt him eyeing you during the first class that you shared with him that day, you could tell that something was different about him.

Before you’d become close with Bella and the Cullens and learned the Cullens’ secret, you had found the weight of those brilliant golden eyes intimidating whenever they found you from across the cafeteria or in class. Back then, Jasper had always looked pained when he looked at you, but the way he was looking at you now revealed something different in his gaze- something more to it.

You’d first attributed it to him needing to hunt, but when you finished your lunch and made to leave the room he shot to his feet and trailed behind you, the distance between you growing shorter as he followed you all the way to your locker. You made short work of the lock and began unloading the textbooks you wouldn’t need from your backpack, figuring that he’d say something when he was ready to do so.

Instead you were surprised by a pair of arms wrapping around your waist and dragging you back until you were pressed tight against a firm chest, Jasper tucking his face into the side of your neck and taking a deep inhale.

You froze, tensing up at the surprisingly affectionate gesture. “Uh, are you-” you had to pause for a moment as you tried to find the words, “Jasper, are you feeling alright?”

“I am now that I’m with you, darlin’,” Jasper murmured against your skin, lips quirking up into a grin as he looked up at you. “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” you started, shifting a little in his grasp as you tried to free yourself, “It’s just that you seem to be acting a little strangely-”

Jasper’s grip on you loosened slightly, just enough so that you could turn and face him, “You think this is… Strange?”

You shrugged noncommittally, stepping back and out of his grip so you could turn back to loading your backpack for the second half of the day, mostly to give yourself something else to focus on. “A little bit,” you admitted quietly, “I always thought that you didn’t like me and now I’m not sure what’s changed.”

As you said that, your phone chimed with a text from Alice. One of Victoria’s newborns had an ability; they hit Jasper with it and he’s been acting odd since, it read. He seems dazed until someone mentions you; Carlisle thinks it's some sort of love spell. A few seconds passed and then your phone chimed with a second message, We’re working on a solution. Had a vision; just go with it and things will work out well for you.

Your brows furrowed as you tried to figure out what she meant. Jasper seemed to take your silence as a cue for him to speak.

“I never disliked you,” he said quietly, moving to lean against the locker beside yours. “Not even before Bella came to Forks. I just-” He smiled, a little sheepish but a lot adoring, “I found it really difficult to control myself when you were around, so it was easier to distance myself. But when you started coming around with Bella, I knew staying away was a far worse option than learning some self control.”

You were hesitant as you parced through what he’d told you, “What are you trying to say, Jasper?”

He sighed, cocking his head to one side as he looked at you, a bright blond curl falling into his eyes. You could feel your fingertips itch with the urge to push it back out of his face. “I’ve done a lot of things that I regret immeasurably and will never be able to change.” By his tone and the faraway look in his eyes, you knew that he was referring to his time in the Confederate army during the Civil War. “But I won’t let missing the chance to be with you become one of them.” He took a deep, shuddering breath, eyes darkening slightly as yours locked with them, “I don’t know if you’d be interested in someone like me in the first place, but I want the chance to be with you in whatever way you’ll let me.”

You could tell that he would back off if you only asked, but you knew you wouldn’t. There had always been something… enticing about Jasper Hale, even when you’d been intimidated by him, and now you were being given a chance to see where this feeling might lead you.

“Okay,” you said finally, closing your locker with a decisive clang as you turned fully to face the vampire. “You can pick me up at seven o’clock on Friday and we’ll see how this goes.”

Jasper’s blinding smile had you convinced that you’d made the right decision.

#male reader x jasper hale #male!reader x jasper hale #jasper hale x male reader #jasper hale x male!reader #jasper twilight x male reader #jasper twilight x male!reader #male!reader x twilight #twilight x male!reader #male reader x twilight #twilight x male reader #twilight x reader #male reader insert #male!reader #male reader #male!reader insert #x male reader #x male!reader #male reader x #halloween event

[queerfics]

All Yours - Jasper Hale x FTM! Reader

(Fluff + make out scene)

Summary: A loving moment with Jasper Hale, and reader gets a little territorial.

The trees were haunting late at night. Through the glass wall, they seemed to loom towards you, harboring secrets of the unknown dangers that undoubtedly lurked in the woods. Some dangers were friendly, and some were not, and many blurred the lines between.

To those who resided on the other side of the line, the Cullens were distinctly unfriendly. To some, it was hard to tell and varied. But to you, it was very clear who your safety net was. A shiver ran down your spine, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You turned your eyes away from the window with a harsh blink. They burned and watered, and instinctually you rubbed them with your palms.

Jasper’s monotone room cleared into recognizable shapes, and you leaned back into the plush chair. You looked back at Jasper once more, only to find that the book he had been reciting was discarded next to him at the foot of the bed. His eyes met yours with a knowing glint.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, curling your legs into your chest as you averted your gaze.

“No need to apologize,” he mused, feigning a teasing tone. “I take it Gatsby isn’t your kind of Romeo?”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and your tense shoulders slowly rolled back into the chair. You shook your head.

“I have a very specific kind of knight in shining armor in mind,” you said. Jasper quirked an eyebrow.

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

“Tell me, (Y/N), what sort of man woos you?”

You hummed, wrapping the fluffy blanket tighter around your body and pulling your knees underneath you to keep your feet warm.

“I like a chivalrous man,” you said. Jasper’s lips twitched upwards. You let out an overdramatic sigh, shaking your head and looking back out the window.

“Hard to come by these days?” He asked.

“Very,” you confirmed, playing along with false annoyance.

“How so?”

“Well.. never would a man today bring me flowers.”

“But flowers are a necessity,” Jasper said. He stood and slipped his hands into his pockets.

“Never would a man today even consider opening a door for me.”

“That’s just common courtesy.”

“Never would a man today ask my parents for my hand in marriage.”

“Scandalous.”

A small giggle slipped from your lips at that, and you turned back to face Jasper, who had quietly made his way towards the chair you lounged in. He crouched down in front of you and raised his hand to gently caress your jaw. His thumb ran delicately over your bottom lip. Your lips parted automatically.

“No man would ever carry me to bed.”

“Now that’s just a shame, isn’t it?”

His gold eyes locked with yours. He leaned down closer until his cool breath was fanning your face. Another electric shiver ran down your spine.

“Tall, handsome, blond. The works. But I do love a good southern charmer… Do you know where I could find a man like that?” You purred, leaning into the palm of his hand.

“I’m afraid you might be all out of luck, darlin’,” Jasper said. You pouted, and he slipped his hand under the blanket to grasp yours. Golden bands knocked together as you intertwined your fingers. You reached your other hand up to run it through his hair, scratching at the base of his neck. You pulled his head closer, until the cool skin of his lips just barely brushed against yours.

“Jas?” You whispered, eyes flickering down to his mouth and then back up to his eyes.

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I’m all yours, pretty boy.”

A low whine left your lips at that, and you arched your back into his touch and pressed your lips firmly against his. His hands slipped around your waist and he pulled you off the chair and into his lap, thumbs rubbing circles into the exposed skin of your hips.

Jasper groaned as you pressed your chest into his, kissing him so fiercely it would have bruised if possible. His hands slipped under your borrowed shirt and up your back. You mewled into his lips, breath stuttering as he dug his nails in. Your hands tangled themselves into his golden hair and pulled, exposing his neck.

Your lips ghosted along his jaw, switching between nips and sucking at the porcelain skin. He murmured your name as you searched for the perfect spot, taking small breaks to rub your nose against his pulse point affectionately.

“I love you,” he mumbled between heavy breaths. Your heart raced against his still chest. You pushed the collar of his shirt aside, hungry mouth searching for more territory. As your lips traced over a dip just above his collarbone, a sigh of satisfaction left your lips and you bit down, hard.

He grunted, hips bucking upward and a hand flying behind him to sturdy himself against the floor. He swore, letting his head drop back.

“Mine,” you whispered against the cool skin. He nodded shakily.

“Yours,” he agreed.

#jasper hale #twilight #jasper x reader #jasper fluff #cullen #vampire

[little-diable]

Two hearts - Jasper Hale (smut)

Requested by @ravenhood2792 - enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is insecure about their relationship, so, Jasper reminds her once again of his love for her.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f)

Pairing: Jasper Hale x fem!reader (1.5k)

How do you explain to your lover that each kiss he presses against your body forces you to remember all the touches of the ones that have broken your heart in two? How do you explain to your lover that each “I love you” that leaves his lips makes your heart twist in fear, wondering when he will finally leave you?

Just like the ones before him.

Jasper Hale was a lover like no other, careful though urgent with his touches, always trying to protect her from herself and the things her human mind couldn't wrap itself around. Jasper Hale was the lover that swore to love her till even his eternity would find its end.

(Y/n) had tried to keep her worries to herself, mind wandering back to the boys that had ripped her heart right out of her chest, stomping on it as they turned to another girl. She had tried to forget about their hurtful words, how they had treated her, but sometimes - just  sometimes - even her walls would begin to crumble.

Just like today.

With her forehead pressed against her palms (y/n) grounded herself, calmly breathing to stop her tears from running down her cheeks, body twisting underneath her covers, tuning out the world outside. How she wished to disappear, to make her way out of Forks, the town whose every corner and street she knew, the town that knew all her secrets.

Her hands tightened their grip on her strands, tugging on the roots to distract her mind. Pain shot through her system, pain he could feel from miles away, body freezing in his step. No words left him as he turned away from Emmett, feet meeting the cold forest ground, fingers teasing the tree trunks that were covered in moss.

She needed him, needed to feel his arms wrapped around her middle, pressing her against his chest as he would restore the peace in her little world. Jasper Hale was the one to save her, the one to show her the beauty of the love they shared, Jasper Hale was the one to catch her - this time around he wasn’t the villain in the story, but the boy from next door that would take care of her fragile heart.

(Y/n)’s head rolled to the side as her ears picked up the sound of somebody opening the front door of her house, running up the stairs as if they were chased by someone or rather something. His golden, panicked eyes met her glassy ones, frame lingering for a second or two, carefully studying her trembling frame.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice broke mid sentence, hand reaching for her blanket, giving Jasper enough room to place himself down on her mattress. His scent met her frame, calming her beating heart, making sure that the soaring waves of sadness began to calm down before they’d spill onto her soul.

His cold lips kissed her warm forehead, mind trying its best to take away her pain, using his power to distract her from the dark thoughts that ran through her mind. Carefully he let his hands wander, teasing her sides as (y/n) pressed herself further into his chest, holding onto him as if the earth was shaking, threatening to rip them apart with its force.

“What’s going on, darlin’?” She couldn’t reply, would start crying once again, so, (y/n) pressed her lips against his. Jasper eagerly replied, very well knowing that she wouldn’t get back to his question, at least not today.

Their lips met over and over again, hands freeing themselves from their grasps, running through his curls, exploring her sides, the skin they had touched too many times to count. Gently Jasper pushed her onto her back, straddling her waist, careful not to crush her. Cold hands pulled her sweater over her head, cupping her naked breasts, twisting the nipples that rubbed against his fingertips.

His fingertips were writing poems on her skin, telling a story of love and pain, a story that would end with the sun rising above the horizon as all pain would let go of the lovers that had met in the middle of the night, in a forest as dark as the ocean's deepest spot. Jaspers touch elicited soft moans from her, eyelids fluttering shut to focus on him.

“Do you trust me?” His husky voice filled her bedroom, danced along the walls she had painted months ago, symbolising yet a new start to life she could only live once.

“I do.” She would trust him with his life, even on days where her mind tried to tell a story as gruesome as the movies that would haunt her in her dreams, as cruel as the words others have spoken, breaking her fragile heart apart.

Soft lips kissed their way down her naked upper body, to her fabric covered heat. One hand moved her panties down her legs while the other lingered on her stomach, making sure that she wouldn’t move away from him.

(Y/n) arched her back as he began suckin on her pulsing clit, his rough tongue brushed through her folds, tasting her dripping arousal, the sweetness of her heat. Jasper hummed to himself as he eagerly ate her out, eyes meeting hers every now and then, clearly projecting their lust and love.

His name fell from her lips, loud and clear, disturbing the peace that engulfed them, making his eyes twinkle in delight. Jasper urged her on to call out his name, dead heart swelling at the thought of making her feel this alive and admired.

Soon her body would hurl itself forwards, time freezing for a second as her earth would crash, ripped apart by the fire that began to spread through her. His skillful tongue took care of her every need, meeting the spots that left her shuddering and panting, writing his name on her clit.

Tenderly he kneaded her breast, sending shivers down her spine as his cold touch met her warm skin over and over again. Their bodies were incompatible, two systems that weren’t made to work together, though their hearts longed for one another like two magnetic poles, pressed together by the electricity that kept them going.

“Jas’, I-” (y/n) bit down on her lower lip, walls fluttering as her orgasm shook through her, worries ending in smoke as calmness stretched itself through her body.

He gave her a few moments to find her way back to him, undressing himself as he studied her with dark eyes, planning his next moves. Their lips met, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue, holding onto him as his length slid through her folds, coating himself with her arousal, making sure that she was still wet enough for him to pound into her heat.

“Hold onto me, darlin’.” Jasper guided her like a lighthouse would guide the ships into the safe haven. (Y/n) twitched as he pushed into her, moaning against her lips, still not used to feeling her tightness wrapped around his length. He wasn’t fucking her like he’d do on stormy nights, wasn’t fucking her like he would in the backseat of his car, no, he was making sure to soothe the ache in her chest, making sure that she got reminded of his love.

“I love you, you're doing so well for me, such a good girl.” Jasper’s words got swallowed by her kiss, tongues meeting just like their hips, moving in a calm though steady rhythm. Her hands toyed with his strands of golden hair, arms wrapped around his pale neck, keeping him as close to her as possible.

(Y/n)’s moans grew louder with each thrust of his, cock rubbing against her walls, nudging the swollen spot that was needy for his touch. Tonight she would allow her mind to rest, leaving the dark thoughts outside her room, clinging onto him as her heart would calmly beat in her chest.

Jasper could tell that she was close, walls tightening their grip on his length, pulling him closer and closer. His cold hand found its way back to her clit, teasing the bundle of nerves, making sure that yet another powerful orgasm would crash upon her.

“I love you too.” (Y/n) came with her eyes focused on him, fingernails scratching his scalp, back arched off her bed. A deep moan followed hers as he released himself deep inside of her, painting her walls white.

Jasper rose from her bed, pressing kisses to her thighs before he left to grab a warm washcloth. As he cleaned her skin (y/n) felt her heart jumping in her chest, wondering why she was worried about him breaking her heart in the first place.

#jasper hale smut #jasper hale imagine

[notquitecanon]

Spiked punch // Jasper Hale x Reader

I had snap chat memories from prom and I want to make out with a vampire cowboy

TW: alc mention , no NSFW just a lil steamy, heavy handed pg13

It was cliche really, how you snuck away from Forks High's prom with Jasper Hale. Pressing your smile against his lips behind the venue as you leaned back against a wide Oak tree that would hide the two of you from both party goers and chaperones alike. You were sure you were going to wrinkle the front of his suit with how desperately you were grasping it to keep him close while he briefly indulged you. It was very human- very teenage hormoney human.

Beautiful dress, perfect date, good music, better company, pleasantly spiked punch bowl (emphasis on the pleasantly spiked punch bowl)... Everything was perfect as you deepened the kiss, heart rate picking up, movements becoming frenzied, closing the limited distance between you until Jasper made a noise deep in his throat somewhere between a growl and a groan.

"Jazz..." You whined breathily as you felt him pull away from you like he always did, gentle at first but when the breeze hit you and your eyes fluttered open- the human facade was shattered, seeing as your boyfriend had made it ten feet away and halfway up a tree in under five seconds. It took a moment for your human eyes to find him.

Jasper was always careful with you, like one wrong move and you would kill over. He was careful when he drove you places. He was gentle when he would pick you up or run with you, and held your hand like it was made out of million year old glass. He was cautious getting too comfortable lest he slip up. Which was why, things never got anymore heated than he allowed, and thanks to that pesky power of his he always knew exactly when to cut things off before you got too... eager.

And as usual, he was waiting to give you that scolding golden-eyed glare as you tried to calm your breathing and wild flush, carefully smoothing the hair Alice had spent hours fixing. He didn't appreciate that you were decidedly more determined tonight- nor did he appreciate how easily he was considering folding when you gave him those innocent eyes.

Jasper had to look away before he scooped you up and ran halfway to Canada with you, but you read his discipline as something else. Immediately your emotions went from tempting to him to breaking his heart as he felt the deep streak of rejection and embarrassment coursing through you. You thought he didn't want to kiss you against that tree until you couldn't think straight?

"(Y/N), you don't know how much I want to, believe me, you have no idea," He tried assuring you, dropping out of the tree and forfeiting a little of the ground he covered. Just close enough to catch your hand in his and press the softest kiss against your knuckles as he let you feel just how much he loved you and wanted you.

"Then why not? Jasper, I trust you." You sighed, taking a few steps closer and lacing your fingers through his so he wouldn't be able to flash away again- not without taking your hand with him at least. The blonde dipped his chin so he could look down at you while you looked up at him through your lashes, "Completely."

"I appreciate the faith, but you're seriously overestimating my control, darlin'." He reminded you, taking another two steps back so there was at least some space between you and him even if he was still rubbing circles on your knuckles with his thumb. Jasper had to use every ounce of discipline from his 160 years to pretend that the pout on your lips wasn't effecting him. Not to mention the way you'd danced with him, smiled at him, flirted with him- and ESPECIALLY ignoring the gorgeous dress Alice had you in.

"And, I think you're seriously underestimating yourself." You argued defiantly once again closing the distance between the vampire and yourself. He gave you a stiff, warning look as you copied his earlier gesture, painting his knuckles with an ironic red smear from your lipstick, never breaking eye contact- but this time your eyes had gone from temptingly innocent to flashing dangerously.

“(Y/N)-“ his voice was strained as he watched your display- but he didn’t tell you to stop nor did he remove himself from the situation. He kept perfectly still as you tugged yourself closer to him, heels (or punch) making you stumble flush against his chest. Not your original goal, but you could work with it.

From this angle, you could press another soft kiss right above the collar of his dress shirt- no doubt designer, he wore it better than any model-right where his pulse point would be if he was human. His hands went to your hips and you expected him to push you away, but he didn’t, only holding you where you were.

So you moved to your next target, the marble point of his jawline which clenched under your lips. You paused, even in heels you couldn’t reach any further without Jasper’s cooperation. Even in heels, he was easily a head (if not more) taller than you. You couldn’t help it; you breathed a giggle against his neck, momentarily resting your cheek against his chest.

"Darlin'." His voice was somewhere between begging for more and a warning. When he pressed his lips roughly against your forehead, you guessed he opted for more. So, you wrapped his tie around one of your hands and tugged twice- not harshly, as you knew he wouldn't budge if he didn't want to, no matter how hard you pulled. This was more of a request.

To your surprise the blonde adhered to your wordless request, tipping his face down to you- golden eyes narrowing in on yours as he watched you with dark, curious eyes. Now with his lips in reach, you kept your grasp on his tie, holding it flush against your chest as if that would keep the vampire where you wanted him. With your free hand, you reached up and caressed his beautifully cold face- from the perfects Cupid's bow of his lips to the sharp outline of his cheekbone. Your heart couldn't help but soften at how he leaned into your warm touch before you leaned forward for his lips. One of his hands came up, gently guiding your chin as his eyes instinctively closed.

When you were close enough to almost feel his lips, you diverted to his cheek before pulling a little bit away with another innocent smirk. Jasper gave you a look of both disappointment and betrayal.

"Not so fun is it?" You hummed, dropping his tie in favor of smoothing out the wrinkles on his suit. It took a moment to work out the wrinkles you'd caused before taking the chance to slowly drag your hands down his chest. As chest turned to torso, you slipped your hands under his suit jacket which pushed your chest flush against his as your wandering hands started climbing back up his back.

"Sugar."

That was new. Jasper's voice was low and still warning- but this wasn't his usual warning- no you were treading into new exhilarating territory. Well, Jasper would probably use the words wantonly, stupidly dangerous. He'd never used this name or tone with you, and his eyes never flashed like that. Both signs you were heading in the right direction.

Gingerly, your hands snaked back around front before going around his neck. Jasper's perfect eyebrow quirked as your fingers started twisting and tugging the blonde curls at the base of his neck.

Suddenly, your back was against that tree again, plush moss protecting your skin from the rough bark as your mind processed what had happened. In a split second, Jasper had flipped you around, pinned you to the tree, and had both of your wrists pinned above your head with just one of his hands. All the while, he kept a careful watch on your emotions- exhilaration, love, and now that you'd realized what happened, shock. Jasper shook his head to the side, "A healthy dose of fear could do you some good."

"I'm not afraid of you, Jas." You whispered, breathless as your eyes flicked between his and his lips. Craning your neck, you caught his lips with yours and surprisingly he didn't pull away. The gentleman he was, he even let you maintain your illusion of control as he kept with you pace even as he held you captive.

You steadily moved yourself against him, lips in synchrony, chest flush against him only separated by a couple layers of fabric. Eventually, you couldn't keep the tempo you wanted if you kept straining up to his lips. A high pitched half whine, half moan escaped your throat that pushed the vampire over the edge.

With a low growl, he dropped your wrists in favor of hoisting you up like a bride- not that you minded as your arms fell neatly around his neck. Your forehead fell against his cheek as you struggled to catch your breath, "See, totally in control."

Smiling, you pressed kisses from the corner of his mouth down his jawline and then down his neck. Your faith in him was always astounding, more than he deserved. He could hear and feel your heavy pulse, smell every hormone, feel every emotion, and see the flush creeping up your neck. He could do this, he would never hurt you. This time, the blonde smirked even though you couldn't see it.

"You just brought yourself a death wish, sugar."

And with that, his lips attacked yours with aa fervor he'd never dared have before.

Thank God for spiked punch.

#jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper cullen x reader #jasper hale

[waywardrose13]

Touch of Betrayal

Masterlist

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Angst, smut, smidge of fluff, graphic abuse, graphic depictions of injuries, fucked up coven, language, all the angst, not enough editing to satisfy me

Word Count: 20,538

Summary: As the oldest sibling, Y/n was supposed to be sacrificed for the betterment of her coven. After her escape, she meets Bobby Singer, who takes her under his wing. It is no secret Dean Winchester hates witches, but Y/n is different, and Dean begins to question his feelings. When Sam is threatened and Dean is given an ultimatum, the trust and feelings that have grown between Y/n and Dean is jeopardized. The touch of betrayal stings.

Commissioned by anonymous:)

A/N- To the lovely soul who commissioned this fic, I hope you enjoy!

Y/N

You could feel the blood from the shackles trickling down your fingers, dripping onto the backs of your bare knees. Shivering, the autumnal air bit at your skin and seeped into your bones. The cold wasn’t the only thing making you shiver, however. You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off the gold blade laying on the stone pedestal in front of you. Soon, that blade would slice through not only your throat, but four other eldest children of the founding families; Freya, age twenty-four; Marxicus, age twenty-two; Sera, age twenty; Gunthias, age twenty-two; and finally, you, the youngest at twenty-one.

The thin slip hanging from your body did nothing against the cold, your bare limbs exposed to the night air, droplets of blood dotting the backs of your legs. Those damn shackles had cut into your wrists for three days. You could feel how raw your skin was beneath the cool metal. However, it didn’t really matter seeing how you would be dead once the moon reached its apex.

Sera was sobbing loudly to your left. Some of the coven, maybe a handful, looked on empathetically. The majority stared with disgust at her emotional state. Your mother’s words rang in your head from the night before. “This is an honor. Do not embarrass me tomorrow.”

You scanned the gathering. Many people were drinking goblets of harvest mead, others were conversing lowly in small packs. Many people were simply watching you and the other sacrifices, taking in every inch, as if staring so intently would siphon even more power.

No one caught your eye in particular. Not until you spotted him.

His dark eyes were trained on you intently. Biting your lip to keep it from wobbling, you took a deep, steadying breath. Don’t embarrass me, don’t embarrass me, don’t embarrass me.

As the world faded away, you and Jasper locked in a silent pining, you wondered what it would have been like if you had been able to go through with the wedding. As a female within the coven, you were obligated to have children unless you absolutely couldn’t, so maybe the two of you would have had a few kids, settled in a cabin on the outskirts of the compound. The marriage may have been arranged, but you were friends before lovers. You were lucky when it came to that. Most people were strangers up until their wedding night. You had the privilege of at least knowing Jasper, even if you weren’t friends until after the arrangement had been made. You would have been happy.

Instead, your heart ached at the thought of never seeing him again, the thought of him marrying someone else and fathering someone else’s children. You weren’t sure if you loved him like that. Yes, you loved him. He was your best friend. You loved him with everything you had. However, you weren’t sure if you were in love with him. It was rare that the marriages in the coven had any love. You could see yourself falling for him, though. If given the opportunity, he would be easy to fall in love with.

Of all those secret meetings and passionate embraces, you wondered what it would have been like to be together in the public eye. Sneaking off was fun and thrilling, the secrecy and forbidden joinings exhilarating and they certainly helped you fuel the rebellion against your parents and the coven. You two weren’t supposed to be together in any way, even in a friendly manner, until after the wedding. But those meetings? After finding out about your arrangement, you two decided to get to know each other on your terms, not your parents’. Those friendly meetings had turned into so much more, and they were fun. Fun was a rarity in the coven. You and Jasper always had fun. He was a fantastic lover, much more experienced than you were, seeing as he had been your first. You two never spoke about it. It just sort of happened one night. There was no true romance, no heart skipping love. Just two friends having some fun before they were married. 

Then your older brother Danny had died, and suddenly your world had crashed down around you. You were suddenly the oldest child. You were going to be sacrificed, the power transferring to you the moment Danny took his last breath. Not only had you lost your best friend, but your future had been rewritten; the arrangement made for you and Jasper had withered, and you were going to be murdered in a blood sacrifice in three years. 

You and Jasper no longer were to be married, but that didn’t stop the meetings. That didn’t stop the passion. After Danny, you needed the distraction. You spent more nights with Jasper than you did alone. Not that he complained.

Your last night of freedom was different. Typically, the nights spent together were fast, primal, and more often than not, rough. Three nights ago, your final night spent free, or as free as you could get inside the coven, was spent with your family. Then after they had gone to bed, your mother excited for your honorable sacrifice, your siblings looking forward to furthering their power, and your father despondent and sullen- the thought of losing another child weighing on him- you had snuck out to meet with Jasper for the final time. And like he had been your first time, he was slow and tender. Emotion poured from him and it had frightened you. You knew he felt more for you than you did for him. You also knew you couldn’t let yourself feel that way, not knowing your fate. You couldn’t give into your own temptation, or let him taste the sweet tang of the promise of forever, not when you were being ripped from the world by a cruel hand. You two had spent the whole night together, words a rarity, speaking with your bodies, saying goodbye. He was your best friend, your confidant and solace. The person you wished you had the time to love.

He stepped closer to the circle of stones, face still shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the flickering orange lanterns hung by iron wroughts. Ever so slowly, he lifted a hand, a deep yellow spark igniting at the tips of his fingers. They settled there for a moment, glowing bright in the dark, but no one seemed to notice. No. This was for you and you only. Jasper loved art, and that’s what his magic was. The light danced in his palm and glided around in swirls in the air above his outstretched arm. 

He was distracting you. Keeping your mind elsewhere as the elders, cloaked in the charcoal gray robes of their ancestors, stepped up onto the dais. Grisha, the High Priestess of your coven, chanted in latin. If you paid more attention, you could know what she was saying. But you stayed focused on Jasper, even as his figure trembled in the light, face pinched to keep emotion from showing. Your heart ached at the sight and you so desperately longed to run your fingers through his chocolate curls one last time. Wanted to feel his strong hand in yours. Wanted to run away from here with him.

But if there was something Jasper was, it was loyal. And his family came before you. He would never leave them, never leave the compound or abandon the coven. Not even for you.

As a founding family, your father was amongst the robed figures. It was by the hand of the creator who committed the sacrifice. For generations, parents held the golden blade to their children’s throat to spill their blood upon the stones. You glanced down at your bare knees, noting the stone’s color; black and a deep gray. The stones were once as pale gray as the standing stones that formed the circle. But each sacrificial slab had held so much death, the color was no longer so.

It made you shiver.

The light flickered brighter across the circle and you raised your eyes to Jasper again. His own dark eyes were pleading with you across the grass, begging you to keep your gaze on him. Begging you to stay locked with him for as long as you could.

So you obliged.

Sera was first. The volume of her sobs increased. She screamed and pleaded with her mother, blubbering and crying until suddenly, she gurgled, and a thud echoed ominously across the circle. You shook violently and you were afraid of collapsing. Jasper brightened his tendrils of light, forming small animal shapes; rabbits hopping, birds flying, butterflies flitting. His distractions only went so far.

Marxicus was next. He had been stone still and completely silent. As his father raised the blade to his throat, all he said was, “sancti libera me.”

Saints liberate me.

The blade smoothly sliced open his throat, and he slumped to the stone heavily.

Freya cursed at her father, both in English and in Italian, snapping and snarling and fighting until the end. She didn’t die immediately. She had fought hard enough that the blade hadn’t sliced through her artery. Her father gripped a fist full of her hair and yanked her head back before pressing harder and deeper into her throat until blood sprayed across his face and her body fell.

You thought you might vomit. Or faint. Or both.

Gunthias pleaded without tears, but begged nonetheless. You saw the blade slice his throat from the corner of your eye, watching as his body fell and slipped half-way off the stone slab.

Finally, as the youngest, you were up. You were shaking so hard, you thought you might fall if it wasn’t for your father’s hand landing on your shoulder. Jasper’s light flickered slightly, dulling into small swirls of yellow dust around his palm. He was too frightened to conjure enough power. He half turned, as if he was going to run, but thought better of it. His eyes never left yours.

Yours left his, however. You scanned the crowd one last time for your family. It didn’t take you long. Your siblings were hugging each other, the twins- Margot and Matthias, both clinging onto each other as if their lives depended on it. Your mother stood over them, hands clasped beneath her chin, lips murmuring a prayer to the Gods as she watched with eyes full of elation. She smirked lightly at you as she caught your gaze, giving you a deep nod.

You looked away quickly, finding Jasper one last time. He was still there, as he said he would be. Always. 

The blade was wet and sticky with blood against your throat. You trembled and murmured a prayer to your Gods, wishing for a quick death, hoping the afterlife was as glorious as promised, hoping this was fucking worth it-

The blade swiped through the air, missing you by mere inches, before it lodged itself into Grisha’s chest.

Gasps and screams erupted from the crowd as the High Priestess shrieked and keeled over, clutching at her chest as she began to spasm. You met Jasper’s eyes one more time, his face stunned and eyes impossibly wide. Your father gripped you under your arms and lifted you from the slab. 

Then you two were running.

Your father raised his shields as the coven went wild. Many people cowered in fear. Your father had just killed the High Priestess. If he did that, what was stopping him from killing them?

Others were sending out powerful blasts of energy to slow you two down. But your father simply gripped your arm tighter and sprinted from the circle and into the field, the tall grass whipping at your bare legs, your feet slicing from thorns, but you didn’t care. You were escaping. You could do this.

“Faster, Y/n/n!”

You pumped your legs until they burned as the two of you ran. Shouts and battle cries erupted from behind you and you knew the two of you were being chased. Of course you would be. They couldn’t finish the sacrifice. The power would not be fully replenished. 

You had to die.

But you didn’t want to. You spent your whole life confined inside the damn coven, in the damn compound. You wished to see the world, wanted to experience life outside. You wanted to live- for you and for Danny.

“Faster. Please, run faster!”

Your father pulled you along until you were nearly stumbling. He noticed and sent a quick surge of purple light, the shackles bound to your wrists bursting apart. You winced as the air hit your raw skin but you were now able to run with more balance.

Finally, you broke through the trees. The confinement within the branches helped shield you from the onslaught of power surges being sent your way. If you were caught, not only would you be killed, but your father would be too. He would be deemed a traitor to the coven, and treason was the highest offense you could commit.

“Where are we going?” You panted between breaths. Your lungs burned and you tried your best to ignore it, but you had never been one for running or for sports. Not to mention, you had been locked away in the Harvest Rite cabin for three days, shackled to a “room” that was really a cell, locked from the sunlight for three days so the harvest moon would touch your spirit better or some shit. Honestly, you had no idea, not interested in the faux explanation the coven founders had spouted centuries ago. 

“Anywhere but here,” your father said breathlessly. “We need to get you somewhere safe. Then we can-”

Red light collided with your father’s back, sending him sprawling. You yelled in surprise and skidded to a halt, falling to your knees beside him. The magic seeped into his back and erupted through his chest in bloody bursts, clawing its way free. 

“Daddy!”

“Go! Y/n, please! Go!”

You shook your head and sobbed, covering his chest with your hands, his blood warm against your chilled skin. 

“No, no I can’t leave you!” You said. The shouting grew louder and you knew the ones chasing you were close. But how were you to leave him? Especially when he risked himself for you.

“You must. Please, Y/n/n. Please.” His eyes, ones matching yours, pleaded with you behind light lashes. He retched, blood dribbling from his lips. He gripped your hands with his. “I would die a thousand deaths before I would let them kill you. I… I can’t lose… another one.”

You knew he was talking about Danny, about that fateful day that your older brother had drowned in the lake. How the grief had radiated from your father so potently, it physically pained you. It was the worst day of your life. Now you had to watch another person you loved die.

“Don’t go,” you whispered. “Please don’t go.” You laid your forehead to his, the metallic scent of blood surrounding you. 

“I… I love you… I… want you to… live… for me… and for… D-Danny… Please… run.”

“I love you, too,” you said. You pressed a kiss to his forehead and pushed yourself up, giving him one more glance, torn between running and fighting the bastards who did this.

“Go. Please. I love you. Go,” he said weakly. His body went limp and you knew that was it.

Letting a scream of outrage bubble in your chest, you vowed to personally kill every single last one of the fuckers who did this. You vowed to avenge your father. Freya. Marxicus. Gunthias. Sera.

Yourself.

Letting your shields surround you and your glamour conceal you, you turned and sprinted deep into the woods, trying to keep your anger and sorrow at bay long enough to prepare yourself to step foot into the outside world for the first time in your twenty-one years of life.

DEAN

“Screw you.”

Dean laughed and reached forward to scoop up Sam’s cards, shuffling them with the larger stack of cards in the center of the table. He had won three games in a row now, and he was pushing for a fourth. 

“Admit it, Sammy,” he said, leaning back into his chair. “You just suck.”

“Shut up, jerk. Deal the damn cards.” Sam sat forward and shook out his hands. Dean snickered and dealt cards to himself and his brother.

“Quit while you can, bitch,” Dean said. “Losing four times in a row? Pathetic.”

“Will you two shut the hell up?” The brothers looked up at the doorway, Bobby trudging in from the hallway with a beer in one hand and a leather bound book in the other. “Some of us need to research.”

Dean sipped his own beer and threw a handful of salted peanuts into his mouth. “How much more research could you possibly have to do? Don’t you ever just… chill?”

Sam furrowed his brows, mouthing the word “chill?” to his brother. Since when had they known Bobby to “chill?”

Bobby grumbled something under his breath and sat down at his desk. “Maybe if you researched more, you wouldn’t have to ask me for help all the time.”

Sam spit out his beer, doubling over in laughter. Dean wasn’t as amused and he threw his next handful of peanuts at his brother. 

“Children,” Bobby muttered. 

The rest of the night went by in a similar manner. Dean won the fourth round, and the fifth, and then Sam finally gave up before suggesting a new game in which he promptly beat Dean’s ass. Bobby silently read and scribbled notes, answering a phone call around nine.

“You boys up for a hunt?”

Dean rubbed his hands together and lifted his brows. “When aren’t we?”

“Dean, we just finished one yesterday,” Sam said, putting the stack of cards back into the worn box. Dean shrugged and got up from his seat.

“Sounds simple, probably a vengeful spirit,” Bobby said, handing Dean his notes. Dean read over them to himself before silently handing them to Sam who did the same thing. “Should be a one and done thing.”

“Yeah, why not?” Sam sighed.

Bobby waved the brother���s off, Dean speeding from the long, dirt driveway with AC/DC blasting from the stereo. Sam chewed lightly on the tip of his pen as he made some of his own marks to Bobby’s notes.

“So what, you're gonna find another hunt right after this one again? Maybe it’ll take you twelve hours instead of a full day next time.”

Dean’s hands curled tightly around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He liked hunting, so what? Was he throwing himself into hunts more often than not recently? Sure. But they helped. They helped with the rage that simmered beneath his hands. They helped with the itching feeling he got whenever he thought of hell.

Fucking hell.

Literally.

It hadn’t even been three months since he returned to the land of the living. Sam was still in the dark and Dean planned on keeping it that way. He wouldn’t subject his younger brother to the horrors of hell, what he experienced or what he did. He shared everything with Sam. He wanted to keep this to himself.

Hunting helped relieve some of that pent up aggression and fear that burned beneath his bones like fire. Saving people, hunting things. That was his motto, right? Saving people now when he couldn’t in hell, when he caused people pain. Hunting things and killing them to let out some of that burning rage.

If Sam suspected anything, he didn’t say so. Dean thought he might have a few times, but he would quickly change the subject or cut him off. 

No chick-flick moments. Another motto he planned to live by.

So he pressed a little harder on the gas pedal, Baby revving beneath him, trees a blur outside his window. He simply let himself drive and listen to his music, thankful he even got to do this, that he could hunt and be with his brother and live.

Even if he wasn’t truly free from the confinement of his own mind, or the burdens of his guilt.

Y/N

It had been nearly a week since you escaped.

A week of hiding and traveling.

You had no money, no way of knowing where you were, no knowledge of anything besides your coven.

Luckily, it seemed you were in the middle of nowhere. You had come across a rundown building with broken windows and shutters that hung from their hinges. Taking a peek inside, you realized it must have been abandoned ages ago. Branches, leaves, and cobwebs littered the inside. You had carefully maneuvered around the broken glass and into a small room. A moth-eaten couch sat cockeyed in the old living room, drapes pooled on the floor beneath the dirt covered windows, dusty books and picture frames laid forgotten on the floor underneath wall to wall shelves.

You still shivered in your shift, but there were a pair of boots by the front door. A quick inspection found the inside to be worn but wearable. After plucking out leaves and a small spider in one of them, you slipped them onto your feet. They were a bit big on you, but they would have to do until you could figure out your next course of action.

You raided the house, finding a small backpack to take with you. You couldn’t stay in a place like this. The only furniture was that god-awful couch and a table in one of the upstairs rooms. But you found a pocket knife, a flashlight (with no batteries), and you had taken a few of the books from the floor, stuffing the items in the backpack before continuing with your journey.

For the rest of the week, you would find small places to settle for the night within the woods. Cover beneath large rocks, crannies between cliffs, in the low branches of trees. You didn’t dare risk making a fire, not with your coven on the lookout for you. Instead, you would summon a warm ball of light to keep you from freezing to death. You would nestle the light and smaller droplets of light around your body as you slept, one hand on the pocket knife, the other cradling your head as a pillow.

You thought of your father every waking hour.

You missed him so much. It seemed as if he was the only one in your family who actually cared about you. Your siblings were too young to really understand anything about the coven, and they saw you more as a prized possession than an older sister. Your mother was devoted to the coven and its members. She loved you. In her own way. But not like your siblings. You were a possession. A thing full of intense power that would eventually return that power to the coven to fuel and replenish it.

You hated it.

You hated that damn coven and its traditional ways. You heard of covens that were modernized and didn’t sacrifice, covens that lived in the modern world. You didn’t know if they were real or not.

You wished your father was with you. He loved you and cherished you as a daughter, not a weapon. You two had always been close. And it was because of you that he was dead.

A week went by, and you were walking along a dark road. The road was made of black stone, white dotted lines painted down the center. You weren’t completely ignorant of the outside world. You knew what roads were, had heard about cars and telephones.

That amongst other little things was all you knew.

Being alone was terrifying. 

You allowed yourself to cry. Your mother always told you crying was a sign of weakness, but she wasn’t here. You were alone. For the first time, you were alone in a world that was foreign to you. But you were free.

A low rumbling sounded from behind you. Turning, you caught sight of a large machine barreling towards you. Wheels spun quickly and two lights flashed in your face from the front of it.

A car.

You watched in awe as it sped past you and then stopped a little distance ahead. A man in jeans and a flannel pushed open a door and slipped from the raised seat. A hat with a brim shading his eyes sat on his head, a gray beard covering the bottom of his face. He took a few steps towards you which made you step back.

“You alright, girl?”

His voice was gruff and slightly accented. It reminded you of your father’s voice. You subconsciously took a step towards him, desperate to hang on to that feeling of familiarity that had to do with your father’s memory.

“Miss?”

You stopped when you realized he was taking steps towards you. What was the worst that could happen? If the man tried to hurt you, you would be able to stop him with a single thought. You were a witch, and a damn powerful one. He doesn’t even know witches exist.

“Can I drive you anywhere?”

“No,” you answered honestly. Where could you go? You had nowhere. You left your only home behind and you didn’t have any money. Fuck, you really had nothing. Panic began to creep up your throat.

“Okay,” the man said slowly. “Do you need help?”

Yes, yes, yes. You wanted to let him help you. But what would you say? Oh yeah, my family comes from a closed off coven and my father saved me from having my throat sliced open in a traditional sacrifice, then he was killed while we ran. I have no money, no clothes, and absolutely no where to go.

“I…”

“You look freezing. Let me help you out. I’ll get you something to eat and we’ll figure it out.”

Right to business he was. You glanced down at yourself, skin prickled in gooseflesh from the cold, your slip dirty and ripped in some places. Your feet ached in those too-big boots and your stomach growled in hunger. The berries and bark you had eaten for the past week left you starving for more.

Going against your better judgement, you gave in. He helped you up into the truck. You hugged your backpack to your chest, body ready to bolt if he tried anything. He gave you one last look before the car started moving. You started, gasping a little. The man flinched.

“What is it?” He asked. 

“Nothing,” you responded quickly. He grumbled something and the truck went faster.

It was an odd feeling, but one you became accustomed to quickly. You felt his eyes on you again, as if he was sizing you up, and it made you a bit uncomfortable. You shifted in your seat. He seemed to notice and promptly looked away.

Not too long later, he was pulling the truck onto a dirt road. Various crushed and mangled pieces of metal were scattered along the yard. It didn’t take you long to realize they seemed to be old cars, scraps of such that the man must use for something. Tools lay forgotten all around, random bits of chain flung here and there.

Water suddenly splashed over your face.

Jumping, you spun to face him with a bewildered look. He looked you up and down again before reaching into his pocket, revealing a knife. 

You reached for the door handle, trying to push open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. This was it. You were dead. 

“Calm down, girl,” he said. He reached forward to grab your arm and you whined. You didn’t want to resort to using your powers, but you would if you absolutely had to. “I’m just testing you.”

“What?” You asked. He pressed the tip of the knife into your forearm. It pinched for a moment and was gone almost instantly, a tiny droplet of blood forming where it had knicked you. “What the hell was that for?”

“Precaution,” was all he said as he clicked a button and opened his door. He walked around the truck before he opened your door and offered you a hand. You looked at it suspiciously. You needed to leave. You should leave. You were also incredibly confused. The man rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt ‘ya. Well, not anymore. That was more for my safety than anything.”

“How?” You asked. 

“I thought you were… nevermind. Just, get out of the car, will ‘ya?”

You narrowed your eyes and let your power inch into his head. It slithered inside and easily found his thoughts. You were a telepath, rare in the witch world, and you weren’t very practiced with it, but it came in handy for situations like this, you supposed. Your mother hated that you were a telepath. Danny was a telepath, and anything that reminded her of him was strictly forbidden. And ever since he died, you were forbidden to use your telepathy, and that led to you being incredibly out of practice.

...Didn’t mean to hurt her… she could have been a shifter… I could have sworn she was something…. She looks scared… probably just a runaway… she doesn’t look very old… why is she staring at me like that...

You pulled your power back and took his hand. The thoughts were quiet and breaking up, but you could make out most of what he was thinking. A shifter? As in shapeshifter? As a witch, you knew about some of the other supernatural creatures. But how would a human know about them?

Leading you into the house, the man kept sparing you odd glances, and you hugged your backpack even tighter to your chest. The inside of the house was dark and dingy, cluttered with old books and boxes. The man gestured to a small round sitting table in the kitchen. You sat down slowly, watching as he pulled out bread and some meat from the refrigerator. 

“What’s your name?” He asked. He set the plate down in front of you as well as a glass of water. You tentatively reached forward for the sandwich, made up of some meat and cheese and lettuce, the bread spongier than the homemade kind your mother made at home. You picked it up, sniffing it. “It’s just a sandwich. It won’t kill you.”

Thinking back to the knife in the truck, and the scabbed droplet of blood on your arm, you scowled, but took a bite anyway.

The man pushed over his own sandwich not a minute later, seeing how hungry you were.

“Y/n,” you said after finishing the first sandwich, picking up the second one. You wiped the crumbs with the back of your hand and drank the glass of water deeply, gulping down every last drop. The man pushed his water over as well. You drank that, too.

“Okay, Y/n,” he said. He watched you carefully. “Why were you out on the road like that, dressed in a nightgown when it’s forty degrees out, at almost ten at night?”

You paused and chewed your bite of sandwich slowly. You wouldn’t tell him everything. But he seemed to be kind. And he reminded you so much of your father…

“I ran away.”

The man sighed and nodded. “I figured. You an adult?”

“I just celebrated my twenty-first year.”

He blinked at you, mouth opening to say something, closing it only a moment after. He furrowed his brows. “Odd way of saying it, but okay.” He scratched his chin. “Why did you run away?”

You blanched. You weren’t expecting that question, although you should have. You swallowed the food in your mouth. “Um…”

“I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me,” he said gruffly, making you frown. 

“Um… well… It’s hard to explain,” you said truthfully. How were you supposed to explain your situation to him?

The man leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temple. “I guess if you don’t want to tell me right away, you don’t have to.” He looked you over, noting the still bruised wrists from the shackles and the cuts and various other small wounds from your coven and from spending a week in the woods. He swallowed hard at the sight of them. He reached a hand out for yours, and you obliged. He gently touched the wounds on your wrist, getting up to reach for a box in a cabinet over the sink. 

Restraints?... I wonder… 

That was all you could get from his head. You wished you were more practiced in your telepathy. Life would be much easier for you.

As he cleaned, applied salve, and dressed your wrists, his face was pulled into a pondering pout the whole time. His silent conversation with himself prompted a quick shake of his head to clear his mind before he was patting your forearm.

“Look, I know you don’t know me. I don’t know you. I don’t know what you have gone through and you don’t have to tell me. But I won’t hurt you, and I sure as hell won’t let anyone hurt you any more. I don’t know what caused these wounds but… I have an imagination. Just… you can stay as long as you want to, or need to. I have a spare room upstairs. I won’t bother you or nothing, but it’ll give you time to heal and get your shit together.” He thought for a moment before adding, “That is- if you want to.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Without thinking, you had wrapped your arms around the man’s neck, hugging him tightly. He grunted and hesitated before patting your back stiffly.

“Okay,” was all he said. You pulled back and grinned shyly. 

“Thank you, sir,” you said. 

“Call me Bobby.”

DEAN

“Piece of cake.”

Sam scoffed and limped after Dean, who was cradling his arm against his chest. They took out the vengeful spirit, but not without it getting the upper hand on them at one point. Nonetheless, Dean turned to his brother and grinned.

“Aw, come on, Sammy. That was fun!” Dean opened the trunk of his precious car and threw in his salt-filled shotgun. Sam shook his head and opened the passenger side door.

“Your definition of fun is startling,” was all he said as he ducked into the car, closing the door behind him. Dean laughed and slipped behind the steering wheel.

“Please. Your definition of fun is watching Harry Potter.”

Sam scoffed and turned to Dean. “Yours is watching cartoon porn.”

“It’s anime!” Dean snapped. Sam cackled in his seat and rubbed his sore knee.

“Okay, Dean. Whatever you say.”

***

By the time they got to Bobby’s, it was well past midnight, but a light was on in the windows. The air had cooled even more, the light wind nipping at their noses as they hurried to the door. 

“Fucking locked-” Dean banged on it. “Bobby! Open up!”

“Dean, he could be sleeping,” Sam said. 

“The light is on,” Dean pointed out. He raised his fist to bang on the door again but it swung open. Bobby knocked Dean’s hand out of the way.

“Would you quit it?” Bobby said. He moved out of the way to let the shivering brothers inside. “You’ll wake up-” Bobby snapped his mouth shut. 

Dean smirked and let out a wheezing laugh. “Bobby, you sly dog!” He clapped his father figure on the shoulder. 

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Sam said simply. Dean was still making sexual jabs. Bobby rolled his eyes.

“I’m not seeing anyone, you idjits,” he said. “I took in a runaway. I don’t know the story so don’t ask, but she was hurt. I honestly thought she was… something at first.”

“Why?” Sam asked. He cocked his head. “Did she do anything weird?”

Bobby shrugged. “Call it a hunch. She’s clean, though.”

“So what, you’re just letting her stay here?” Dean made his way to the fridge to grab a beer. “Why would you-”

A scream tore through the upstairs of the house. A bloodcurdling scream that made the hair on Dean’s neck stand up.

Bobby spun and sprinted up the stairs in the blink of an eye, the brothers close on his heels, however when they reached the door to one of the spare bedrooms, Bobby slammed it in their face.

“What the hell?”

The screams broke off suddenly, and Dean could vaguely hear Bobby speaking softly through the door. A woman's voice sounded back, one that was melodic but had a rougher edge to it. 

A few minutes passed before Bobby slipped out of the room and pulled the door closed. “Nightmare.”

The brothers stared at him incredulously.

“What?” Bobby raised his shoulders. 

“What the hell, Bobby?” Dean asked. “Why’re you getting involved with something like this? I mean, do you even know her?”

“We help people, it’s what we do. I don’t know her but so what? Call it… a hunch,” Bobby said again. He shrugged for a third time and shouldered past the boys to head towards the stairs. “You two need to leave.”

“Excuse me?” Dean followed him, raising a brow. 

“She barely trusts me. She’s skittish, is all. I don’t want three men freaking her out, especially two of them as big as you guys.” Bobby opened the door to the house and jerked his head. “You can come back when she settles.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Dean deadpanned. He couldn’t believe it! All of this over some girl? Some runaway girl who Bobby had just met? “There has got to be more to the story.”

“There isn’t. Now beat it,” Bobby said. 

Y/N

Bobby was kind.

The first three days were a struggle. You weren’t sure what to do or what to tell him. He seemed harmless, but you easily spotted the guns and the knives and the sigils around the house. You knew what they were and what they meant. The Devil’s trap was something you had learned to create at a young age.

“Are you a hunter?” Bobby had asked. 

“A… what?” You figured he didn’t mean a hunter in the sense of killing animals. 

“A hunter. You know about demons and the sigils,” Bobby trailed off when he realized you didn’t know what hunters were. “What are you then?”

“Well, I had to learn about them growing up. Where I’m from, we were taught about demons in school and their protective sigils.” You had chuckled a bit. “My mother told me many people believed we are devil worshipers but we aren’t!”

Bobby simply stared at you. 

“You’re a satanist?” He asked. That had you laughing again.

“Like I said, we don’t worship the devil.”

“Who is ‘we?’” 

You hesitated, but you figured you could trust him. He had been kind and understanding with you. He knew you must have grown up pretty sheltered. You hadn’t known how to use the telephone and you didn’t know how to drive a car. You had never used a television.

Yes, you could trust him. 

“My coven!”

Bobby moved so fast the table shook as his knees hit it, your glass of water toppling over. “Bobby, what?-”

“Your what?”

You cocked your head at his reaction. “My… my coven?”

“You’re a witch?” He was mad. Really mad. So mad, his face turned red and he fisted his hands at his sides.

“Well… yes,” you said slowly. 

“We hunt you,” Bobby growled. That had you standing up slowly, hands raised in innocence.

“I don’t understand,” you said. You swallowed thickly. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Ever?” He snapped. 

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever hurt anyone?” 

You froze. Hurt anyone? “Of course not! What are you talking about?”

“Witches kill and maim and bring harm to people,” Bobby hissed. “I knew you were something.”

“I’ve never done any of that! How dare you think I have?” You said. “Up until a week and a half ago, I had never left my compound. I was going to be sacrificed for fucks sake! My coven is traditionalistic. We live a simple life. We have no communication with the outside world. You were the first person I had ever met outside my coven!”

He stared at you dumbly, blinking a few times to process your words. “Are you… are you serious?”

“Yes,” you breathed. You kept your hands up but you shrugged lamely. “If it wasn’t for my father, I’d be dead.”

“Where’s your father?” He asked. Your heart sunk at the thought and suddenly your knees felt weak.

“He died,” you spoke softly. “He freed me and they… they killed him in the process.”

Bobby’s fists unclenched. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “He died trying to save me and I won’t let him die in vain. I’ll leave if you want me to but… I haven’t done anything for you to kill me. You have my word.”

He looked at you for a while, really looked at you. His eyes softened as a tear slipped down your cheek. You desperately wanted to enter his mind but you knew you shouldn’t, especially not now. Finally, he relaxed his position. 

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay?”

“You don’t have to leave,” he said. “But if you start… I don’t know, killing things or doing any of that evil devil shit, I’ll kill ‘ya.”

You scoffed. “What would evil devil shit entail?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, you idjit.”

In the next few weeks, Bobby had taken you under his wing. He began to teach you how to shoot, which you weren’t terrible at. He gave you books to read on lore (much of which you already knew) and even brought you out on outings with him. He was a bit of a hermit, but the few times he did go out, he’d take you with him.

Needless to say, it was… overwhelming.

There were so many people. So much technology. But it was exhilarating. You had never been shopping before, never been to a restaurant. The diner Bobby brought you to was one he said wasn’t very good, but it was fun. The waitress had looked at you like you had grown a third head as your eyes took in all of your surroundings, gazing incredulously at the picture covered walls and the jukebox- that’s what Bobby called it- against the wall. 

Then there was the music. You grew up with your mother’s fiddle and that was nothing compared to what you listened to now. You had chosen so many songs from the jukebox, Bobby had to pull you away from it before you drove everyone insane. 

It was amazing and you wished you could experience it all with your father. You wished he could see the new sights and hear the wonderful music. The food was a bit more artificial tasting but there was a whole new world of foods to explore. You especially liked the cheeseburgers Bobby introduced you to.

Three weeks into your stay, Bobby had taken you on a hunt with him. He told you there would be people out there who would want to kill you and wouldn’t listen like he had. You had to keep your witchcraft and religion a secret, or else hunters like him would come for you.

That didn’t help the nightmares that plagued you at night.

Your father’s death haunted you. The screams and pleads of the other oldest children haunted you. Danny’s blue lips and waterlogged skin haunted you. 

You couldn’t escape it. 

“Here’s some money,” Bobby said. “Go to the bar next door. Get yourself a drink, dance a little. I’ll meet you back in the room when I’m done, okay?”

He brought you along but didn’t want you hunting quite yet.

You did as he said. You drank some new drinks, danced with a man you had met, conversed with the pretty red headed bartender. You let loose and had fun, something you never would have done with the coven.

When you stumbled back into the motel room that night, Bobby had grinned at you, watching as you fell back onto your bed.

“Fun night?” He asked, helping your boots off when you struggled with the laces.

“Screw my coven,” you slurred. You smiled toothily up at him. “That was fun!” You reached into your pocket, holding out the remainder of the money he had given you.

“Keep it,” he said. You smiled and shucked off your jacket.

You were asleep by the time your head hit the pillow.

DEAN

“You think the girl is still there?”

Dean sighed and shook his head. “Doubt it. It’s been almost two months.”

Sam stretched his legs as he and Dean walked up the steps to Bobby’s house. Dean knocked twice, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Autumn had faded into winter, the leaves long fallen and the flurries of snow drifting around their feet as they walked. The sun was hidden behind a blanket of clouds, making it even colder than it was.

The door opened, but instead of Bobby, a woman peered up at them. Dean’s breath hitched in his throat.

She was beautiful. Her eyes were e/c and held a sort of wisdom in them that startled him, but a glint of innocence were beheld in them, too. Her face was framed by long stray locks of h/c hair, half of it braided, the rest loose. She was tall for a woman, but the brothers still towered over her, and her simple t-shirt and jeans showed off her curves nicely. Dean looked her up and down, giving her a lopsided smile.

“Hey there,” he drawled. He touched the tip of his tongue to his top lip before giving her a nod. “What’s your name?”

The woman looked between them both, seemingly unfazed by Dean’s advances. “Bobby! There are two guys out here!”

“Let them in,” Dean heard Bobby call. “It’s the Winchester boys I was telling you about.”

“Oh,” was all she said as she stepped out of the way. She held the screen door open for them as they ducked inside. Dean sent her a wink as he passed.

“Sam, Dean,” Bobby greeted. He gestured to the woman who had now gravitated to the corner of the room. She simply watched them, her hands curled into fists at her sides. Dean noticed faint scars around her wrists. When she caught Dean’s eyes, she held them behind her back. “This is Y/n.”

“Hi,” Sam said, giving her a friendly smile.

“Hey.” Dean grinned lazily at her.

“Hello.”

Her voice was soft and Dean’s heart leaped in his chest at the sound. 

“Is this the same girl from a few months ago?” Sam asked. Bobby nodded.

“Yep, that’s her,” he said. “I’ve been showing her the ropes.”

“What- like hunting?” Dean furrowed his brows. “Bobby, since when have we brought civilians into this shit?”

“I’m not a civilian,” Y/n spoke up. 

“Sure, sweetheart,” Dean said. 

“I’m a witch.”

“Dammit to hell, Y/n!” Bobby threw his arms out to his sides.

“A witch?” Dean snarled. He pulled his gun without a second thought, but before he could shoot, Y/n’s eyes shined purple and the gun was flung from his hand. “Bitch!”

“Watch your mouth, boy!” Bobby hissed. “She’s a witch, but she has lived her whole life in a secluded coven. She’s never hurt anyone.”

“She will!” It was Sam’s turn to pipe up. “Bobby, how can you trust a witch?”

“If you knew her, you’d understand,” Bobby answered. He gestured to her. “She won’t hurt anyone, and you won’t hurt her. Because if you do, I’ll hurt you. Do you understand?”

“Bobby-”

“I said, do you understand?” Bobby repeated himself. The brothers looked at him, noticing how his lips were screwed into a silent growl, his body moving into a defensive position half in front of the woman. Sam swallowed hard.

“Fine.”

“Sam!” Dean protested.

“If Bobby trusts her… then I do, too,” Sam muttered. Dean scoffed.

“She’s a witch!”

“And you’re a dick!” Y/n snapped. 

Dean’s eyes widened. He lifted a finger to point at her. “You shut it.” 

“Make me,” Y/n mocked. She folded her arms over her chest.

Dean took a step forward. “Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”

“Enough!” Bobby roared. He turned to the woman. “What did I say about Dean?”

She sighed deeply. “Not to rile him up.”

“And what are you doing?”

“... Riling him up.”

“Exactly,” Bobby said. “Stop it.”

“Sorry.”

Bobby turned to Dean next. “You quit taunting her, would you? She’s turning into a decent hunter, and an even better consultant, and she’s a kind woman. If you would get your head out of your ass, you two actually have a lot in common.”

“I don’t care,” Dean said. Which was a bit of a lie, but not really. She was attractive, and he liked her spirit, but she was a witch. How was he ever going to trust the likes of her?

“A consultant?” Sam asked.

“She grew up learning about monsters,” Bobby clarified. “Not only that, but she has the knowledge for spells and herbal magic. She’s given me a lot of great information on healing spells and on some research type stuff.”

“Oh great, she could be poisoning you, Bobby,” Dean said. 

“I could poison you.” Y/n narrowed her eyes at the green eyed hunter.

“Bobby, she literally just threatened me,” Dean pointed out. Bobby just shook his head and rubbed his temple.

“Y/n?”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Thank you.” Bobby gestured to the brothers. “If you two ever need any help, she’s your girl. Dean, you may not like her, but she’s smart and her herb mixes really do work.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Sam said gently. He grinned at Y/n. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too, Sam,” she said, enunciating his name more prominently. Dean scowled. “I’ll see you two later.”

“Where are you going?” Bobby asked as Y/n made her way to the stairs.

“On a date!”

Bobby started and gaped at her. “A date?”

“Yeah! Remember Ben?”

Bobby thought for a moment. “The EMT from the wraith hunt?”

“Uh-huh! We went out that night afterwards and he called me yesterday for a second date.”

“Why didn’t I know about this?” Bobby asked. 

Y/n rolled her eyes. “I am an adult, Bobby. Besides, the only relationship I had ever been in was an arranged one. I’d like to have my own.”

Dean sputtered. “I’m sorry- arranged?”

“Her coven was a little… old school,” Bobby said.

“To say the least,” Y/n chimed in. “Anyway, I have to get ready. Bye, boys!”

She disappeared up the stairs, the soft click of her door closing echoing down from the hallway. Bobby still looked like he was going to explode.

“How did I not know about this?”

Sam chuckled. “Don’t ask us, Bobby,” he said. “But I like her.”

“She’s great,” Bobby agreed. “Dean, if you don’t lighten up, I swear to God.”

Dean rolled his eyes, putting his whole body into it. “Okay, fine, whatever. I won’t kill her.”

“How generous of you, Dean,” Sam said, patting his brother on the shoulder. Dean pushed him away, giving him a dirty look.

“Shut up.”

Y/N

Ben was sweet, and handsome, and decent in bed, but he didn’t send that spark to your core like Dean did.

By your fifth date, you decided to break it off. It had been a month since you last saw the Winchester brothers, and three months since you had met them. You occupied your time with research and exploring the outside world. Ben had been fun, and he was so nice, but by God, Dean lit a fire in you that burned so brightly, all you could think about was him.

So after Ben, there was Derek. He was a bit more rugged than the soft spoken EMT, and if Ben had been fun, Derek was a fucking rollercoaster. He wasn’t more than a month long fling as he rolled through town, but fuck was it great. You liked this new freedom. You liked experimenting and having the choice. Sure, you and Jasper had a good time, and it was the escape you needed, but you two were arranged by your parents and the elders. Ben and Derek were your choices. 

You loved having the fucking choice.

And if given the chance, you’d like to choose Dean.

He was an arrogant dick, but you remembered that smirk and the dark look in his eye and that filled you with an excitement you wanted to chase. You knew you shouldn’t chase. That you couldn’t chase.

Because no matter how civil he acted with you, you also knew he wanted to kill you. 

But you also thought he wanted to fuck you. He was incredibly confusing.

Your phone calls were always short, and they either ended up with insults thrown at each other, or flirtatious innuendos from the hunter that always left you questioning whether or not he actually hated you. You provided them with copious amounts of information for their hunts, and Sam always took you up on your offer for spells and herbal concoctions. You thought Dean may have been coming around, but you wouldn’t know until tonight when they came to visit Bobby. 

It was clear Dean didn’t trust you, and his cocky attitude made it so much worse. But he was a damn good hunter and a great brother to Sam, and he was Bobby’s family. So you’d try to be civil.

You’d try.

***

“Goodnight. Try not to kill each other, please.”

You waved Bobby off. Sam had long gone to bed, and with Bobby leaving, you and Dean were left alone. 

And fuck was that awkward.

You looked anywhere but him. You didn’t want to just get up and leave. But you also didn’t want to sit here in silence. Dean seemed to have the same idea.

“So how’s it been-”

“How do you like-”

You spoke at the same time and heat rose in your cheeks. “Go ahead.”

He cleared his throat. “How do you like it outside the coven?”

Right, Bobby had told you he told the brothers a bit about your past. Not everything, but enough to help them understand you weren’t evil like Dean thought you were.

“It’s different. A good different,” you said. “It’s… amazing, really. There are so many things I never knew existed.”

“Like what?” Dean asked. True curiosity shined in his eyes and it made you smile.

“Like music. The music is amazing. I have more freedom. There is so much to explore. Television is pretty neat. There are a lot of books, too.”

“You sound like Sam in that sense,” Dean mused. You shrugged.

“It’s just better, you know?” You thought back to your father and Danny, how you wished for the thousandth time they could see this. You wondered about Margot and Matthias, how they would like it. “I wish my family could see it.”

“I heard about your dad. I’m sorry,” he said honestly. His eyes were earnest and full of something you couldn’t understand. You desperately wanted to read his mind, itched to. But he already didn’t trust you.

“Thanks,” was all you said. You fiddled with your hands in your lap. “We were supposed to do this together, you know? He was supposed to be with me.” You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. You couldn’t cry. Not in front of him. “But then I met Bobby and… he reminds me so much of my dad. It was like the goddess gave him back to me.”

Dean’s breath hitched. “I lost my dad, too.” He wouldn’t meet your eyes when you looked up at him. “Bobby was always like a father to me. More than my own was. He’s good like that.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “He is.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, but the awkwardness had faded. 

“So. You were going to be sacrificed, huh?”

You burst out laughing. 

Dean stared at you in bewilderment as you laughed so hard your stomach hurt. You covered your mouth with your hands, not wanting to wake up Sam and Bobby, but you couldn’t help the laughs that came from deep in your chest. 

“How is that funny?” He asked. He must have thought you were going crazy.

“We… we just had this… heartfelt conversation… and that’s what… what you follow up with?” You said between fits of laughter. You wiped a tear from your eye. “I’m sorry. That was so fucking funny.”

Dean’s lip quirked. “You’re very odd.”

That made you laugh again, and this time, he joined.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad afterall.

DEAN

“You like her.”

Dean’s head snapped up at the sound of Sam’s voice. He had just gotten off the phone with Y/n and he hadn’t realized he’d been smiling until Sam raised a brow with a knowing look.

“Winchester.”

“Hi, Y/n,” Dean had said. He smirked at her greeting. “How’re you doing?”

“Do you need something?” She asked. Dean’s grin widened.

“You.”

Y/n scoffed and Dean heard some shuffling. “Course you do. Without me, you’d crash and burn.”

“Real funny,” Dean said. “Do you have information on basilisks?”

“Of course I do,” Y/n said and Dean could practically hear her eyes rolling. “Is that what you’re hunting?

“We think so,” Dean replied. He waited for her to speak but the other end was silent for a few moments. “Sweetheart?”

“Oh- sorry. I forgot,” she said. Her voice sounded distant, like she had left the phone across the room. He raised a brow.

“What are you doing?”

“Hm? Nothing.”

Dean chuckled and leaned back in his seat amused. “Y/n.”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t tell me you’re sacrificing kittens or something fucked up like that.”

“Damn. You caught me.” A pause. “I’m actually trying to cook for Bobby.”

Dean’s smile faded from one of amusement to one of wonder. “Really?”

“Yeah and this cookbook is so confusing.” He heard a smack-presumably her palm hitting the book in frustration- and a groan. “I just want to do something nice for him.”

Dean’s heart warmed at her words and he closed his eyes. It was hard to hate her. Or in his case, act like it. Sometimes. To be honest, he found it difficult to see her as anything other than good, even if she was a witch. But she still was one, and he knew someday she would turn.

Why did she have to make it so difficult to hate her?

“It’s the thought that counts,” he said softly. 

“Well. I’m still trying,” she said. “My mother stopped teaching me to cook once Danny died and the marriage to Jasper was called off. Why know how to cook when I’m supposed to be dead?”

Dean flinched at her words. “What, they don’t teach you how to magically create dinner at Hogwarts?”

She didn’t say anything for a while and Dean thought he had gone too far before she said, “Only how to sacrifice kittens.”

He laughed so hard, it made Sam jump. 

Then he heard that bell-like laugh of hers through the phone and he found himself unable to stop smiling. 

“Dude, stop flirting and get the information,” Sam said. He narrowed his eyes at his older brother. “We’re wasting time.”

Dean sighed deeply. “Alright, Mr. Stick-in-the-ass needs the basilisk information or else he might spontaneously combust. Sorry to interrupt your cooking, sweetheart, but whaddya got?”

They had met her four months ago. She had been with Bobby for six. Somehow, she had weasled her way into their lives, and at first, Dean hated it. But ever since that conversation with her, watching as the haunting memories of her past swam behind her eyes, how she laughed at something so morbid, how she tried so hard to be good, something had changed.

Dean wasn’t sure what to think anymore. The thought of her warmed his chest. He no longer twitched with annoyance when she spoke or frowned at the mention of her name. He eagerly picked up the phone to hear her voice, wanted to talk to her, to hear her theories.

She was weird but he liked it.

Dean knew she had a rough past. He also knew that she told Bobby some of it, but not all. She was private when it came to her life in the coven. But he knew some of what she had gone through. He knew she was arranged to be married, she knew her older brother had died and that she took his place for the ritualistic sacrifice, he knew her father died saving her. He knew she had to learn all about the world when she escaped.

And she was so smart. She had picked up on the world quickly and it surprised Dean. He knew if he was in her shoes, he wouldn’t do that well. Hell, when he came back to the life of the living after only four earth months, it took him ages to learn about all that had happened.

“I do not,” Dean said. He brushed off Sam’s comment. Liked her? Please…

Did he? He was incredibly attracted to her. Who wouldn’t be? And sure, he liked to talk to her, liked to watch her face light up when he turned on the radio, or when Bobby brought home mac and cheese. He liked to watch her dance in the kitchen and could watch her read for hours without getting bored.

Did he like her?

He shrugged off the feeling, not wanting to get involved. She couldn’t possibly feel the same way. And even if she did, she deserved better. Her gentle heart was no match for his own hell-blackened soul.

“Right,” Sam rolled his eyes. He stood from his seat and picked up his jacket from the table. “I’m going to get some food.”

“Bring me some pie,” Dean muttered. As much as he tried to get her off his mind, he couldn’t. Sam rolled his eyes again and left Dean to his thoughts.

***

At one hour, Dean called Sam, but it went straight to voicemail.

Ten minutes later, he called again. Still voicemail.

At an hour and a half, Dean was dressed and ready to go on a man hunt when his phone rang.

Sam.

He answered it with a low growl. “Dammit, Sam. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Hello, Dean Winchester.”

Not Sam.

Dean’s face went slack and his body stiffened at the cool voice that spoke from the other end of the phone. He swallowed down his anger. This wasn’t the basilisk, it couldn’t fucking talk. And it didn’t sound like anyone he knew.

Fuck.

“Who the hell is this?”

The man on the other end of the phone chuckled darkly. “I’m Zacharias.”

“I have no clue who the fuck you are but if you have done anything to my brother, I swear-”

“Yet. I haven’t touched him yet,” Zacharias said smoothly. “Although, a Winchester? I can imagine a hundred different things I’d like to do to him.”

“You sick son of a bitch.”

“I won’t touch him, though,” Zacharias told Dean. “I will, if you don’t get me what I want.”

“Why don’t I just find you and rip out your lungs?” Dean spit. His body shook with anger. “And how do I know you’re not lying?”

“Should I put old Sammy boy on the phone?” Shuffling. Grunting. Then finally-

“Dean?”

Dean sighed with relief. “Sam? Are you okay?”

Sam groaned a bit. “Define okay.”

“I’ll kill them all,” Dean snarled. 

“Don’t listen to them Dean. Don’t give her to them. These people, they’re-”

“That’s enough.”

The phone was pulled away as Zacharias interrupted Sam. The man cleared his throat.

“I’m sure you don’t know who I am. We keep to ourselves, but I know who you are, and I know you have access to something I want.”

“Which is?”

“Deliver it to me, alive, and you get Sam back in one piece, not a hair on his pretty little head touched, and we will leave you be forever. We will go back into solitude. You won’t ever have to deal with us again.”

“Who is ‘us?’” Dean was growing agitated. Why was this fucker so vague? “Just get to the fucking point!”

Zacharias laughed. “So impatient, hunter.” 

“Listen, Zach- can I call you Zach?”

“No.”

“Okay, Zach. If you don’t get to the fucking point, I will-”

“What? You’ll do what?” Zach sneered. “The way I see it, I have the one thing in the world you care about most. You have something I need, and I have something you need. Besides, I thought you liked causing harm.”

Dean’s blood ran cold.

“Feel free to rough her up a bit. I won’t mind. Lord knows she won’t get it once she gets home.”

She. Home. 

Who was he talking about?

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, but I think you do,” Zach’s voice lowered an octave. “I’ve heard the whispers, Dean Winchester. I’ve heard about the part you played in hell, how you were acting a little too well. Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me.”

“What do you want?”

Zach’s breath hitched a bit. “I want the girl.”

Y/N

“Thank you for dinner, Y/n,” Bobby said. He patted your cheek and kissed your temple as he went to rinse his dish in the sink.

“I know it wasn’t great but-”

“I don’t get very many home cooked meals. This was fantastic,” Bobby said. Your chest swelled with pride at his words and you grinned.

“I’m glad. I just wanted to do something to say thank you. It’s not much but… I don’t know. You’ve been very kind to me,” you told him. He gave you an odd look.

“This sounds like a goodbye,” he said apprehensively. Your eyes widened.

“Oh, God no! No, this isn’t a goodbye!”

Bobby’s shoulders sagged in relief. “I’ve gotten used to another person being here. I’ve gotten used to you being here. I know I said take all the time you need, but I selfishly hope for more time.”

“Bobby, I like it here. I like it here with you. You remind me a lot of my father,” you said. You swallowed hard. “You’ve done a lot for me. You’re a good friend.”

Bobby blushed and went bashful. He shrugged and murmured some words you couldn’t hear before shuffling into the study, throwing a “thank you” over his shoulder. You didn’t take any offense. You knew he wasn’t very good at deep conversations.

You cleaned the kitchen and were about to head to bed when the phone Bobby had given you rang. You smiled smally when you saw Dean’s name flash on the screen. 

“Two phone calls in one day? I must be special,” you said snarkily as you answered the phone.

“I need your help,” he said. 

“What, no ‘hi, sweetheart’ this time?” You mused. 

“I’m serious, Y/n,” he said. You frowned at his tone. He was usually playful with you. If he was grumpy, he was usually doing it to mess with you. 

“Is everything okay?”

“No. I’ll send you the location. Get here as fast as you can.”

Your knees wobbled a bit as nerves lit a fire in your belly. “Wait, Dean, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Just get here. I’ll explain everything when you do,” he said. “Please?”

You sighed and rubbed the bridge of your nose. You were tired after researching all night, but you couldn’t just say no. If Dean was asking for your physical help, he must really need it.

“Okay. Fine. Send me the address.”

***

You knew something was wrong when you pulled the car Bobby loaned you into a small patch of trees down a dirt path off the highway.

Bobby had taught you how to drive not long after you started staying with him. You didn’t drive much, but it was cool when you did. The drive to the location only took a few hours, and within that time, you tried to think of the different reasons he would have called you. Surely he wouldn’t be asking for your help unless he really needed it. Sure, he was a lot more civil with you, even nice sometimes, but he still wasn’t a huge fan of yours. He hated witches and that hatred didn’t stop with you.

The thought made your heart fall in your chest, but you pushed the feeling away. You couldn’t feel those sort of things for him. It was a dangerous game to play.

He was leaning against the Impala when you parked the car. Slipping out of the driver’s seat, you approached him warily.

The first thing you noticed was Sam’s absence.

“Where’s Sam?”

Sam was always with him. You and Dean never met up alone. The few times you had met up with the brothers when they weren’t hunting, whether it be for some healing spell lessons, research sessions, or just lunch, it was always Sam and Dean. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

You looked Dean up and down, noticing the way his fists were clenched and tucked tightly into his sides. His eyes were wide and nervous, as if you were some cruel seductress here to kidnap him, but his mouth was screwed into a hard line. You watched him swallow hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.

“He’s going to uh… meet us there,” Dean stammered. He gestured to his car. “Get in?”

“Tell me what’s going on,” you demanded. “You’re acting weird.”

His chest rose and fell as he took a deep, settling breath. Energy crackled between the two of you as anger rolled from him in waves. You could sense his worry. His anger. You prodded your power at his mind, running a smooth finger down the inseam as you stepped into his thoughts.

She just needs to get in the car… fucking hell… I need to get Sam… quit acting so weird, Dean, you’ll put her off… get in the car!

That was all you could muster before a sharp pain stung your temples. Damn you needed practice. His thoughts made you more uneasy and you took a step back towards your car.

“Dean, tell me what’s going on!”

“Get in the car, Y/n,” he said darkly. You made a move to run but he lunged, gripping your wrist. You yanked free of his grip and pushed him away. “Just get in the car!”

You turned to face him, but your eyes met the barrel of a gun.

You couldn’t breathe. This was it. He was going to kill you. You had no doubts that he had witch killing bullets in that gun, and you just fucking knew he wouldn’t hesitate. 

“This was your plan all along?” You whispered. You tried to keep the emotion off your face, but couldn’t keep it from your voice. “To get me to trust you, then you’d kill me? Really?”

“Get. In. The. Car.” He jerked his head towards the Impala. “I won’t say it again.”

You made a run for it.

You turned and made for the trees. This was the second time you would flee into the woods in your life and you really hoped there wouldn't be a third.

You heard Dean curse behind you and you sprinted. With his long legs, you didn’t get very far, and his arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you up in the air. You swung your head back to collide with his face. He yelped as you felt his nose crunch beneath the back of your skull. 

That only made him angrier. 

He threw you to the ground roughly, pinning you down with one knee to the center of your back. You thrashed and raised your hand, a purple glow emanating from it, ready to strike.

He quickly latched a handcuff to your wrist and your power fizzled.

“What?”

“They’re warded,” he said simply. He cuffed your other hand and gripped a fistful of your hair. “This wouldn’t have happened if you just got into the car.”

Your body ached and your scalp screamed but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you in pain. “Would you have gotten into the car if you were in my shoes?”

“I’d never be in your shoes,” he snarled, hauling you to your feet. “I’m not a filthy fucking witch.”

Ouch.

“You’re still not over that? Really, Dean?” He dragged you to the car, all the while you kicked and thrashed, but he was much stronger than you and the wards were weakening you significantly. “I’m not evil! I thought we were friends!”

His hand gripped your chin harshly, forcing you to look at him. His fingers were rough and heavy against your skin as he dug into you, making you wince. Up close like this, you could see the beautiful green of his eyes, even in the dark, and his freckles stood out against his cheeks. You wished this was happening in a different circumstance. You wished you could have been close like this in another way.

His mouth curled into a ferocious snarl as he said, “I’m not friends with monsters.”

He shoved a gag into your mouth, opened the trunk of his car, and shoved you inside before closing you in, concealing you in a darkness that swallowed you whole and muffled your sobs.

DEAN

The compound was deep in the forest. 

Dean stood by the driver's side door, waiting. Three cloaked figures walked towards him, Sam hauled behind them, dragged by a crimson energy around his wrists and ankles. His face was a bit bruised and his clothes were dirty, but he was unscathed.

That didn’t relieve the guilt he felt.

“The girl.”

Dean recognized the voice as Zach’s. He gave a long look to Sam before he walked around to the trunk. 

He betrayed her. He betrayed her in the worst way possible and now she was going to die because of it. She told him she trusted him. She had learned to trust him after he wanted to kill her.

And now?

Now, he had taken that trust and destroyed it. Bobby would kill him surely. His father figure had started looking at her like a surrogate daughter. Y/n had come into his life and brightened it in the best way possible. Bobby had been so excited when he talked about how well she was doing. How the nightmares had begun to fade. How her scars were barely noticeable. How she didn’t flinch as much. 

How she trusted Bobby so wholeheartedly, and how she trusted Sam and Dean.

That was ruined now, and Dean had to face it. He had to face it like he had to face what happened in hell. But he wouldn’t do that. No. He was saving Sam again. 

He would always save Sam.

He opened the truck and nearly broke at the sight of her tear stained cheeks. Regardless of the tears, however, she gave him a look that was pure death. It sent shivers to his core as her eyes lit purple. A warning. 

A promise.

He yanked her from the trunk and half carried her to Zach.

The new High Priest of Y/n’s coven.

“Who?” Dean asked.

“Y/n. I know you know where she is.”

“Why do you want her?” Dean’s stomach curled.

“We have some… unfinished business.”

It didn’t take Dean long to realize it was her old coven, the one she had run from. The ritual wasn’t complete, and it wouldn’t be complete until Y/n was dead. So there was to be an exchange. Y/n for Sam.

“Let Sam go.”

Zach, a tall and plump man with gray hair and a bulbous nose, nodded at the two cloaked figures at his sides. They yanked Sam to Dean. Y/n writhed in Dean’s grip, desperate to escape, desperate not to return to the coven.

“The girl,” Zach said again. Dean looked down at Y/n, whose eyes were so wide with fear, he was afraid they’d pop right from her head. She looked at him then, pleading, begging for him to take her.

Instead, he took the gag off, pressed a chaste kiss to her mouth, and pushed her away.

Y/n was so surprised, she barely flinched when the cloaked figures gripped the tops of her arms.

“Dean!” She said his name with yearning as the two figures dragged her away, still chained, still terrified. “Dean, please don’t do this! You know what they’ll do! You know! Please! Sam, Dean, please!”

With an evil grin, Zach sent the brothers a wink. “Thank you, boys. We’ll take good care of her.”

Then in a blast of crimson, the four witches were gone.

Y/N

“You traitorous bitch!”

Your mother hit you again, the whip stinging across your back with the scorching pain of the sun. You keened, tears long fallen, your eyes dry and crusty from how much you’ve cried.

Dean had betrayed you. This was worse than him killing you. Worse because not only were you going to die, but your freedom had been ripped from you, stolen out from underneath you. Worse because your father’s death would mean nothing. Worse because you still loved Dean.

Shit, you loved him. You hated that you did. You hated him while you loved him.

You realized you were in love with him when you were locked in that trunk. You wondered why it hurt so much. Why although he had put you there, you wanted him to comfort you. It was fucked up and twisted, but you were in love with him.

And he had royally, utterly betrayed you.

“I’m sorry, mother,” you said for the thousandth time. The whip cracked against your back again, tearing another ribbon. It wasn’t the first time you had been whipped. It was a typical form of punishment within your coven. Your wrists were bound to the top of a pole, your shirt stolen off your body to display your previously marred back. It wasn’t bad, the scars having long faded to dull lines. But now? Now they were re-opened, new ribbons sliced into your back by your own mother’s hand.

There were some spectators still. Many had gathered around to watch the pariah be punished for committing treason. Usually, treason was instant death in the coven. But you were to die in three days under the summer solstice, the moon at its peak for the season. It wasn’t as powerful as the harvest moon, but the solstice was still great for harvesting energy, and the coven couldn’t wait until autumn to refuel their power.

So they resorted to public punishment, letting you be an example to the children of the founding families who would grow up to have kids of their own to be sacrificed. This was what would happen if you or your child tried to escape. If they did escape.

Thirty lashes later, you were slumped against the pole, your body in so much pain, you were on the brink of unconsciousness. Hands moved to untie you and you slumped to the ground once you were unbound. You cried out in agony as you hit the dirt, screaming when someone lifted you up into their arms.

“I’m sorry.”

Jasper.

You didn’t turn into his chest like you would have a year ago. But you did like the comfort his touch brought you. Your best friend.

That comfort disintegrated when he laid you on your stomach on a moth-eaten cot in one of the cells of the dungeons below the founder’s hall.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said again as he left you, someone else closing the cell door, locking you inside.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t think you could physically cry anymore.

Instead, you wallowed. You wallowed in the pain, your own self pity, your anger and sadness. 

You gave up.

You were done running. You were done fighting. Nothing was going to come of it. Nothing was going to change. The man you loved had shoved you back into the cruel clutches of your coven, and you were going to die in three days time, just as you should have died under the harvest moon with the others all those months ago.

DEAN

“Dean.”

Sam and Bobby watched as Dean paced in front of them. The older Winchester brother’s shoulders were hunched, brows pinched, mouth pulled into a sour frown as he paced and thought, thought and paced.

“Dean.”

He ignored his brother again. What was the point? What was the point in talking? He had done it. He had given her up. He had traded her life for his brother’s, just like he had done his whole life.

Sam was everything to him, and although she had weaseled herself into his life, into his heart, that wouldn’t change.

The guilt ate at him. He felt uncomfortable in his own skin, an itching fury burning beneath his flesh that left him twitchy. This felt… wrong. This felt more wrong than he thought. What he did was awful. But it felt different. It felt…

No. He couldn’t feel those things. He wouldn’t. If he felt those things for her, there would be no going back, and he would just be hurt again. He would be hurt beyond comparison if he felt those things for her. If his heart raced at the sight of her, if he itched to reach out and touch her whenever she was close, if his mind thought of her when he woke up in the morning and right before he slept at night.

If he felt those things, he’d be a goner. If he felt those things, this situation would be so much worse.

“Dean, goddammit!”

He stopped, turning slowly, finally letting himself look at his brother and Bobby, the former who was the epitome of worry, the latter looking like he was mourning a daughter.

Which, Dean thought, he probably was.

Dean knew how much Bobby cared for Y/n. He could see it in the way his father figure would gently touch her cheek in passing, or press a kiss to her forehead whenever she went to bed. How he went out of his way to keep her comfortable, how he helped her heal. Bobby was never like that with the boys. Sure, he loved them and Dean knew he and Sam were like Bobby’s sons, but Bobby also grew to have a daughter figure in his life, and she had been ripped away from him by Dean’s doing. 

“You’re going to get her back,” Bobby said smoothly. His voice was still and unwavering. Emotionless. 

“Don’t you think I want to?” Dean asked. “I can’t leave her there. I can’t… It was part of the plan to go back and get her. But what if... what if she’s already dead?”

Bobby was suddenly in Dean’s face, gripping the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the wall. His face was contorted in a rage Dean had never seen pointed towards him and it made him gulp.

“Don’t say that.” Bobby tightened his grip on Dean’s shirt. “We’re getting her back.”

“Bobby, even if she is still alive, how would we get past an entire coven?” Sam spoke from behind them. He didn’t move to pry Bobby off of Dean. 

Even Sam knew Dean made a bad call.

“We’ll figure it out,” Bobby said. He finally let go of Dean and backed up a few paces. “It’s not the right time for the ritual. She’ll be alive until late tonight if I have the moon cycle right.”

“Wha- Bobby! We’re barely going to have time!” Dean said. Alive? God, he hoped so. 

“We need to go. Now.” Bobby was rushing around the study like a madman, collecting guns and knives and a flask of holy water. Dean knew the holy water would do nothing, but watching as Bobby also stuffed a bag full of salt filled rounds, he knew the man was just desperate to get her back, using anything and everything to do so.

“We’ve wasted too much time,” Bobby said. He stalked towards the door and turned back to look Dean in the eye. “You better hope she’s alive, boy.”

He slipped out the front door without another word, the brothers giving each other a long look before following after him, hoping they weren’t too late.

Y/N

As night fell, the moon peeking up from behind the trees, you prayed to your gods quietly. Your mother and siblings hadn’t come to see you since the punishment in the square the day before. You were left alone, back oozing blood throughout the night and into the morning. It still leaked, but much of the blood had begun to crust and clot. You didn’t want to know what your back looked like. It had finally healed enough from the last time you were punished six years ago that you could start looking at your back in the mirror. 

You supposed you didn’t have to worry about it now, seeing as you’d be dead by morning.

The cuffs from Dean had been swapped for similar cuffs as the ones your dad melted when you two made your escape the last time. They dug into your wrists painfully, chafing them raw and bloody. 

A loud bang sounded from somewhere above the cellar. Your mouth went dry. This was it. 

The door to the cellar opened, revealing Jasper. He looked at you solemnly and reached down to grip the tops of your arms. You cried out as your back was jarred, and he ignored it, dragging you up the stairs and into the main hall where someone else gripped your other arm. Together, they carried you outside into the warm night. The hot air hit your back painfully and it took all your strength not to cry in pain. Instead, you bit your lip so hard you tasted blood and tried to push the pain away, not giving them the satisfaction of seeing you hurt.

They carried you to the waiting cell, which was really just a shed, and pushed you inside. You landed on your side, agony ripping through you, and you groaned. They closed the door and locked you inside as everyone prepped for the ritual. 

As you laid there, having flipped onto your stomach, you tried to count the minutes in your head, counting the seconds. If you let yourself think of what was coming, you would surely go insane. This was the second time you were experiencing this and thinking about it made you queasy. Thinking about Dean left you conflicted. Thinking of Bobby and your father left you dejected.

So you just counted.

And counted.

And counted.

Until a thud echoed outside the shed. Shuffling. Another thud. A squelching sound.

“Keep an eye out.”

“No, I was just going to stand here with my thumb up my ass.”

“Real mature, Dean.”

“Thank you.

“Shut up.”

“Hurry up, Sam.”

“I’m trying! It’s spelled or something.”

“You know what? Move.”

Holy shit. Was that-

There was a loud bang on the door and suddenly it creaked open. It was too dark to see, but you could make out the shadowed silhouettes of two very familiar bodies.

“Shit.”

Dean dropped beside you so fast it made your head spin. How had they found you? How did they even get to you?

His hand lifted to your head and he brushed your hair from your eyes. Your cheek was pressed against the cool stone floor of the shed, violent shivers racking your body.

“God, Dean- look at her back.”

“We’re gonna get you out of here, okay? Sweetheart, can you hear me?” Dean made to lift you but you snarled at him, reaching your hand out to slap him away from you.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you hissed. You glanced back at Sam, relief flooding you as he looked unharmed. There was some blood spattered on him, but he looked fine. You didn’t think the blood was his.

“Y/n-”

“Shut up, dick,” you said. “Sam can carry me.”

“Y/n, I don’t know how I’m going to. It’s… it’s bad. I don’t want to hurt you,” Sam said softly. He bent down beside you as well. 

“I don’t think I can walk. It’s going to hurt like a fucking bitch but just do it,” you said. “How did you guys get to me?”

“A lot of fighting and a lot of bullets,” Dean said morbidly. “Bobby’s our getaway driver. He’s picking off a lot one by one.”

“He’s… what?” Your eyes widened. “Dean, there are children here!”

“He’s not killing them all, Y/n,” Dean said. “Just the ones who are fighting to kill you and trying to kill him.”

You let that sink in. They were killing your coven. They were killing the community you grew up with.

“Okay,” was all you said. Sam made a pained sound and reached for you.

Your body was lit with an excruciating fire.

Sam apologized so much, it all blurred together. You gasped and cried and whined as he carried you. Dean had laid his flannel over your bare chest, his face pained as Sam carried you out into the woods. Bodies laid scattered all around, fires licked towards the sky. The compound was devastated, but you could vaguely make out the shapes of some people fleeing into the trees across the field.

You could also see Jasper’s lifeless eyes staring at you from where his body was leaning against the shed, a single bullet hole in the center of his forehead. How you had not heard any of this, you weren’t sure. Perhaps you were too delirious with pain.

Your heart was in your throat now. Jasper. He was dead. Your best friend. Your confidant. Your lover. Dead amongst the ones who wanted to kill you.

He was going to stand by and watch you die.

You bit your lip and tried to push away the urge to vomit. Jasper was dead, you didn’t know about your mother, or Margot and Matthias. Your mother… you couldn’t bring yourself to worry about her too much. A sliver of yourself worried for her… but she didn’t care for you. Not really. The coven was the most important thing to her. Margot and Matthias however, you hoped they were alright. As long as you were alive, they couldn’t touch them.

“We’re almost there,” Sam spoke suddenly, bringing you from your thoughts. You were almost to the car, where you would be taken from this place once again.

“Hurry,” you rasped. You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on. You were gasping for air at this point, the pain constricting even your breathing. 

“Bobby, start it!”

“Holy mother of-”

“Just do it! She won’t last much longer,” Sam ordered. Bobby reluctantly turned from where he started forward towards you, getting into the driver’s seat of the Impala. Sam sat you in the back seat and started to get in with you but was pulled back. He grunted as he landed on his ass, Dean taking his place.

“Not you!” You didn’t want him anywhere near you.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I’m not leaving you again.” You laid on your stomach across the back seat, your cheek resting against his thigh as he gently laid your head down onto him. The fire across your back faded ever so slightly, but it had been reawoken when Sam touched it. You wished unconsciousness would claim you but it didn’t. Tears slipped from your cheeks.

“How could you?” You whispered. You found yourself repeating it again and again, Dean’s hand stroking your hair as he shushed you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Finally, as if the gods had heard your prayer, the edges of your vision began to darken, and sleep claimed you at last.

DEAN

Dean’s back was to the wall. In one hand, he held a beer, and in the other he held a small bouquet of flowers. It was a useless sentiment, he knew that, especially when it was his doing that caused this.

Another yelp of pain from the room behind him and he flinched. Bobby and Sam had been hard at work for the past two hours on Y/n’s wounds. She had kicked Dean out promptly as soon as she regained consciousness. She was furious with him and she should be.

Dean didn’t blame her. 

The door opened and Sam stepped out. His shirt was covered in blood, hands stained pink. His face, ashen and pinched, turned to look at Dean.

“Well?” Dean asked.

“She needs rest. She’s… she’s going to scar pretty badly.” Sam sighed and shook his head. “How could they do that?”

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “Is she alright?”

Sam scoffed. “No. No, she’s not alright, Dean. She was given up by someone she thought she could trust, whipped to ribbons by her own mother, and then was thrown in a cell to wait for her slaughter. So no, she’s not alright.”

Dean stiffened. “Her mother did that?”

“As punishment,” Sam seethed. “Apparently it wasn’t the first time.”

Dean thought he was going to be sick. He took a deep breath and stood up, hesitating. “I want to see her.”

“She doesn’t want to see you,” Sam said.

“I know. But I at least want to apologize, even if she doesn’t believe me,” Dean murmured. He glanced down at the flowers in his hand, a futile attempt of an “I’m sorry” and he knew it. “I…”

“I know,” Sam said softly when Dean couldn’t finish his thought. He couldn’t quite say the words yet. He didn’t even have half a mind to think them. Sam reached over to squeeze his brother’s shoulder gently. “I know.”

Dean gave a low nod and stepped around Sam, ducking into the study. 

It had been turned into a makeshift infirmary. The desk had been cleared of items, a sheet thrown over it, a pillow supporting Y/n’s head where she laid upon it. Everything had been pushed away against the wall, making room for bags of gauze, salves, and other medical tools that Dean cringed away from. It smelled strongly of antiseptic and blood, making Dean woozy as he stepped inside.

Y/n’s eyes were half open and glazed over. She stared unfocused at a spot on the wall beside Dean, and didn’t flinch as he stepped right beside her line of sight. She just simply stared.

Bobby sat beside the desk, one hand in hers- which once again had bandages wrapped around her wrists- as he watched her closely. Her back had been heavily bandaged, blood staining the sheets below her body, tears long drying on her face, leaving streaks on her cell-dusted skin.

“How are you feeling?”

Her eyes lifted to him finally. They were cold and hard and so void of emotion it made Dean shiver.

“What do you think?” 

Dean swallowed hard and placed the flowers on a nearby shelf. He wrung his hands together as he thought of what to say next.

“Bobby, would you mind-”

“Don’t even ask, boy.” Bobby didn’t even move when he said it. He just stayed in his position, gaze locked on the broken girl on the table, face pulled into a deep frown.

“Sorry,” Dean murmured. “Y/n, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“How sweet of you,” she said. “Now get out.”

“Please.” Dean said.

“I trusted you.”

Dean’s breath hitched. Her voice had turned soft and pained. So unlike her and so full of anguish. 

“I trusted you and you betrayed me,” she said. “I don’t trust people easily, Dean. But I trusted you. I trusted you and Sam and Bobby. That’s it.”

“I know.”

“Ever since I met you, you have wanted to kill me. You never trusted me. I’m a witch, just another monster for you to kill. That night? I thought you were going to do it yourself. What you did was worse. You gave me back to the people who I ran from. Who killed my father. You took away my freedom again. You took away my choice again. You took it all away when you gave me back.”

She was crying now, tears silently dripping to the pillow beneath her cheek. 

“I’m not the untrustworthy one, Dean Winchester. You are. You call yourself a hunter. You tell yourself you save people. Apparently the bar falls short as soon as you are something different, regardless of what kind of soul you are.” She pushed herself up onto her elbows to get a better look at him. Dean would never, not until the day he died, forget the look she gave him in that moment; malicious and hurt, her eyes dark and narrowed. 

“Go back to hell, Dean.”

Dean thought his chest had been ripped open. He touched the skin over his heart as her words sunk in.

Go back to hell, Dean.

“Y/n, I need you to listen to me-”

“I don’t need to do shit,” she snarled. Dean winced at her tone, so dark and vicious. “I need you to leave.”

“Y/n-”

“That’s your cue, boy,” Bobby said. Dean’s shoulders slumped. He gave one last longing look to her, taking note of her eyes and how they left him again, staring unfocused at that damn spot on the wall, before turning and ducking back out of the room, finishing off his beer in the hallway and making his way to the kitchen for another.

Y/N

“Please be careful.”

Bobby loaded the last of your bags into the back of the truck. He had given you the same truck he picked you up in a year ago. 

Your back was finally healed enough thanks to your spells, scars now the only reminder. You didn’t look in the mirror, not anymore, knowing how it would look. You felt them whenever you accidently touched your skin as you changed or when you showered. You could feel the raised, soft flames that licked up to your shoulders, forever imprinted into your back. The ones you had before were small. But these? These were long and large in number, the spite and anger of the one who created them clear in their abundance.

It had been a week since Dean had given you back to your coven. In that time, you hadn’t seen him again, not since he tried to apologize the night they rescued you. 

Of course, you wouldn’t have needed rescuing if he hadn’t given you up.

The boys were due back soon and you wanted to be long gone once they arrived. You were going to start hunting. Really hunting. You were fine, your healing salves and spells doing their job perfectly. The scars would be the only reminder.

“I will,” you promised. You were ready for this. You needed this.

Bobby hugged you tightly, mindful of the pressure on your back, before he pushed you lightly towards the truck.

“Alright, off you go, ya’ idjit.” You grinned and got up into the truck. “You sure you don’t want to see them?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “I never want to see Dean again. Not in this lifetime.”

Which was half true. He had hurt you beyond words. He had taken your trust and destroyed it. He had given you back to the people who killed your father and planned on killing you. But at the same time, you understood. Dean’s world revolved around Sam. He would put his life on the line, and has, for his brother. A part of you understood why he did what he did. You went crazy when Danny died, knowing the one person besides your father who loved you just as much as you loved them was dead. You had tried everything, even resorting to dabbling in necromancy, but your mother had caught you, and your last hope of bringing your brother back was gone. 

So yes, you understood Dean to a point. You just couldn’t get over the pain it caused you.

Bobby nodded at your words and kicked a rock in the dirt. “I hope you change your mind someday. Maybe not anytime soon. But someday.”

You blinked a few times and processed his words. You were going to answer, but thought better of it, instead going with, “I’ll call you when I know where I’m going.”

Bobby sighed. “You better,” he said. He gave you a wave. “Kick some ass.”

***

Two months later

“Another?”

The bartender tapped the bar beside your empty beer.

“Please.” He nodded and turned to pour you another. You sighed and rested your chin in your hand, your other hand lazily scrolling through your laptop in search of cases. You had just finished a ghoul case that morning and were already itching for another one. 

The bartender set the beer down in front of you and raised a brow. “Hard at work?”

You shrugged and sipped your beer. “Something like that.”

He cocked his head, eyes trained on you as he cleaned a glass. “Are you busy tonight?” He shifted nervously. 

You looked up at him. He was very attractive, with warm brown skin, hair black as night, and a crooked smile that would make anyone weak in the knees. You had frequented this bar the last few nights and your conversations were always nice. He was sweet and handsome and if this was before your tangle with the coven, you would have taken him up on his offer.

But the scars hadn’t faded.

“Yeah, I’ll be working all night,” you said. He frowned a bit. “And if I wasn’t leaving town tomorrow, I would take you up on that.”

He grinned a bit. “Thanks. Can I get you anything else?”

“I’m okay.” You drank your beer deeply and reached into your bag, pulling out more than enough money for the beers. “Keep the change, okay?”

“Thank you,” he said. You finished your beer and gathered up your things.

Many of your nights went like this. How were you supposed to explain the scars to someone? They were gnarly and would immediately spark fear and confusion and that was something you didn’t want to deal with.

Your phone rang and you grumbled to yourself. Unlocking the truck, you hauled yourself inside, setting your laptop down before you answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Y/n?”

“Sam?” You smiled. You and Sam had stayed in touch. Just because Dean was an ass didn’t mean you couldn’t still talk to your friend. “What’s up?”

Sam loosed a breath. Uh oh. “Look, I wouldn’t call you if this wasn’t important.”

“No.”

“Y/n, come on.”

“No, Sam.”

“Please?” Sam said. “We really need help and no one else is stepping up to bat.”

“What about Bobby?”

He paused. “He actually told us to call you.”

Damn him! You groaned. “Why do you two need help? Aren’t you like the best hunters in the world?”

Sam scoffed. “I know you and Dean have your differences-”

“-Differences!-”

“But we could really use your skill. Please?” 

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes. “You know, I can feel your puppy dog eyes through the phone.”

“Are they working?”

“... Maybe.”

“Come on. You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to,” Sam said.

You pressed your knuckles into your forehead. “Jesus- fine.”

“Thank you!” Sam said. “I’ll send you the address to our motel.”

“Whatever.”

DEAN

“Is she coming?”

Sam turned at the sound of his brother’s voice. Dean’s heart thumped heavily in his chest.

“Yes,” Sam replied. Dean grinned. “But don’t chase her away, Dean. I mean it.”

“I won’t,” Dean said quickly. “But this could be my last chance to make things right with her.”

“Dean, she doesn’t want to talk to you.” 

“I need to, Sam.” Dean looked down at his hands. “I need to make things right. It sucks not talking to her. It sucks not seeing her.”

“Because you lo-”

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean snapped. Sam grinned wickedly and flopped down onto his bed.

“Well don’t you?” Sam asked. He folded his arms under his head, propping himself up to look at Dean.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Dean rolled his eyes and went back to cleaning his guns. Sam had no idea what he was talking about. Dean wasn’t sure what he felt for Y/n, but he knew it was friendly. He hoped she had once felt the same way, and maybe if she knew what he felt, she could learn to forgive him.

Or this whole plan could crash and burn and chase her even further away.

Regardless, Dean was going to try.

***

Three hours later, someone knocked on the motel room door.

Sam got up to answer it but Dean shoved him back, resulting in a smack on the head, but he was able to reach the door first.

Opening it, Dean’s eyes landed on Y/n. Her eyes met his, a scowl painted on her lovely face as she zeroed in on him. She looked him up and down and hoisted her backpack over her shoulder. It was ratty and worn, but Dean noticed she took it on all her trips. He wondered what its significance was.

“Well. Aren’t you going to let me in?” She asked. Dean, startled by her voice, lurched out of the way, nearly knocking over a small table. 

“Nice,” Sam mouthed, rolling his eyes. He smiled at Y/n who stepped inside, brushing past Dean quickly to give Sam a hug. “Thanks again.”

“Anything for you, Sam.” She gave Dean a dirty look. “So. What are we hunting?”

Y/N

The hunt went by smoothly.

It was a vamp nest, and a large one, definitely too difficult for two people but just easy enough with three. You had worked in tandem with boys as if you did it all your life. By the end, they both turned to you impressed.

“Wow. You’ve really trained hard, haven’t you?” Sam asked, bumping his hip with yours as you walked to the car. You wiped blood from your forehead.

“I kinda have to if I want to hunt alone.”

Dean spun to face you, blocking your path. You halted and glared up at him. God, he looked like shit. You noticed it when you arrived at the motel. His face was gaunt, eyes slightly sunken with dark circles beneath them. A permanent frown seemed etched on his lips and he looked like he lost some weight. He looked as if he was being eaten away by something.

He looked as if he was being eaten away by guilt.

A part of you took pride in that, but another part, a larger part, was sad. Sad that he had gotten this way. Sad that the man you loved was in so much despair, all you wanted to do was comfort him.

Of course, that despair was caused by himself, but you pushed that thought away.

“You’re doing what?”

“Hunting? Didn’t Bobby tell you?” You stepped around him.

“I thought he meant hunting with him, not alone,” he said. He hurried after you. “You could get hurt!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have thought you cared, Dean,” you said. You shrugged and gave him a pointed look. “Seeing as you’ve hurt me before.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“And I said go back to hell!”

“Okay!” Sam stepped between you and Dean, lightly pushing on your chest. He glared at his brother, but turned to you with a more gentle expression. “Let’s just calm down, okay? We’ll take you back to the motel.”

“Yeah. Okay.” You lightly pushed his hand away and threw open the back door, slamming it shut. You smirked when you saw Dean start forward in anger at how you treated his car, Sam stopping him with a hand on his chest again. They spoke lowly to each other before Dean slumped and got into the car, Sam close behind him.

Yeah, you absolutely regretted agreeing to help.

***

Later that night, you were lounging in your motel room, watching trash television, when there was a knock on your door.

There was a good possibility it was Dean. You knew that. Yet you still got up to open it. To be honest, maybe you’d like to hear him apologize again. It wouldn’t hurt. 

You’d do it for Bobby. Not for yourself. For Bobby.

Opening the door, unsurprisingly, Dean stood there. His head was ducked slightly, face pulled into a nervous pout.

“Hey.”

You leaned against the door frame. “Hey.”

“Can I come in?” He asked. “Please?”

You bit your lip and moved out of the way, gesturing him inside. He muttered a thank you and stepped past you. You closed the door softly and turned to lean against it. He stood in the center of the room, looking down at a spot on the ground instead of at you.

“Y/n, I know you hate me. I know that.”

You felt as if you were going to be sick. “I… I don’t, you know, hate you.” 

He furrowed his brow but didn’t look up at you. “You don’t?”

“I don’t particularly like you right now.” His lip quirked slightly. “But I don’t hate you.”

He rubbed his chin and turned to sit on the edge of your bed, resting his hands on his knees. One knee bounced and he rolled his shoulders a bit. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t answer but didn’t look away either. He continued. “What I did… I know it wasn’t okay. I won’t excuse myself for what I did. I just knew I had to save Sam and I went about it very, very poorly.”

You continued to stare at him silently.

“I should have figured something out. I was just so afraid. I do very… stupid things… to save him. I sold my soul and went to hell for crying out loud.” He smiled without humor. “Giving you to them will forever be something I will regret. Seeing you in that cell, bloody and broken, it’s an image I will never get out of my head.” His eyes turned misty and he swallowed thickly. “I will never forgive myself and I will live the rest of my life with that image. I will live the rest of my life knowing I hurt you and I’m sorry.”

You tentatively took a step towards him, and another, until you stood directly beside him. His green eyes finally lifted to yours, lined with tears, and you slowly sunk down to sit beside him. Biting your lip, you reached forward for one of his hands, resting it palm up in yours. 

“I’ve… I’ve liked you for a long time now, Y/n,” he whispers. Your heart began to rapidly thump in your chest. “More than like, I think. And it scares the hell out of me. I’m so sorry.”

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat. You didn’t know what to say. You knew about your own feelings for him. Even after what he did, they had been buried beneath anger, but not disintegrated. You traced a line on his palm.

“All I could think about when you gave me up was how much I had trusted you, and how betrayed I felt,” you began. He stilled beneath your touch. “After, I was just so angry. Angry at you for doing that to me. Angry at myself for letting myself become vulnerable.” You hesitated before continuing. “I was hurt. Really hurt. And conflicted. I wasn’t sure how I could love someone and hate them at the same time.”

Dean pulled back from you.

You hadn’t even realized you said it until his face morphed into one of shock. 

Oh, shit.

Shit, shit, shit!

You leaped to your feet, mouth open and closing, your brain racing to find something to say. But your thoughts were clouded with panic. “I don’t… I mean… I didn’t mean to say…”

You backed away from him but he stood and followed. His eyes were full of longing as he reached for your hands and brought them to his chest.

“Don’t turn away from me. Not after that.”

“I didn’t mean to say that.”

“I’m glad you did,” he told you. 

“Why?”

He grinned. “Because I didn’t want to be the only one with those feelings.”

“I’m supposed to be mad at you,” you murmured. He chuckled a bit.

“I’m supposed to hate you. But look at me.”

“Look at me,” you echoed. 

“A hunter and a witch, who would have thought?” He said amused. You smiled shyly. 

“I… I forgive you, Dean.” He sagged in relief. “But I won’t forget.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” He lifted his hand to brush his fingers down your cheek lovingly. “Can I kiss you?”

You blinked at him, letting his words sink in. Once they did, your grin widened, and you reached up on your tip-toes to plant a soft kiss to his lips. 

When you pulled back after a moment, he searched your eyes, waiting for you to push him away, to tell him to stop. 

But you didn’t.

He leaned down to press his lips to yours, harder this time, wrapping his arms around your waist to lift you to gain better access. His lips were soft against yours, moving in fever, his body warm against you. 

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped, voice thick with lust. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

“I can’t. Because I do.” You kissed him roughly, bringing your hands up to curl in his hair. He growled against your lips and moved you to the bed, pressing you down beneath him gently. He rolled his body over yours and you widened your legs to let him fit between them. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, Dean.”

He moved to suck and kiss your pulse point, making you moan. “God, me too.”

You cupped his face and dragged his mouth back to yours. His hands lowered to the button on your jeans, popping them open before he pulled away from your mouth again. You whined at the loss and he chuckled.

“Patience, baby.”

You raised your hips as he pulled down your jeans. He kissed down your legs as he pulled off your socks and looked up at you with hooded eyes. He grinned against your skin before he kissed his way back up, landing a kiss to the top of your pelvis. He thumbed your panties.

“Are you sure?”

“God, yes.” You ran a hand through his hair, tugging lightly, and that was all he needed.

He pulled your panties down your legs, kissing the area above your pubic bone as he gently coaxed your legs further apart. You peered down at him, but his eyes were trained on your sex, his pupils dilated wide, lips slightly swollen from your kissing. Jesus, the man was like sex on legs.

He leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to the hood of your clit. You groaned and jerked at his touch, keening when his tongue ran through your folds.

“Jesus, Dean!”

He ate you out slowly at first, teasingly licking and sucking, before he moved faster, feasting on you like a starved man. His tongue prodded at your entrance before he licked inside, his thumb strumming your clit it time with his ministrations. Your hips raised off the bed, pleasure jolting through you, but he splayed his free hand over your abdomen, keeping you down, making you take everything he was giving.

“Dean!”

He smirked against you, dragging his tongue up through your folds again, sending a deep shudder over you. He hummed, flicking his tongue over your clit a few times, a moan eliciting itself from your throat. He slowly pushed a finger inside you, your back arching slightly as he curled it, pumping a few times before adding another. He suddenly sucked down roughly, a cry pushing itself from your lungs to bounce off the walls, his fingers scissoring in and out at a rapid pace. Your chest was heaving as he curled his fingers again, curling so deep, pads brushing against your g-spot with every move.

You came, falling over the edge violently as he suddenly and harshly sucked your clit into his mouth again. He continued to give kitten licks to your clit as you came down from your high. As you caught your breath, you peeked an eye open to spot him grinning like a cat.

“Don’t ruin it, Winchester.”

He laughed and pushed himself up to kiss your cheek. “But that’s so much fun!”

You smirked and reached for his belt. You unbuckled it and took it off him before throwing it aside. He kicked off his shoes and you unbuttoned his jeans. He pushed himself up to stand and shimmy out of them, peeling off his socks as he went, before he pulled his shirt up and over his head. His boxers strained against his dick, and you went to reach for them, but he stopped you.

“Take off your shirt.”

You froze. If you did, he’d see the scars on your back. They were so gloriously unsexy and you knew he’d look at you in disgust if he saw them.

“No, I don’t want to.”

You were still sitting up, but Dean bent to crawl over you. Your faces were only inches apart, his breath fanning over your face. You shivered.

“Sweetheart, I’ve seen your back before it was healed. Don’t hide from me. You don’t have to hide from me.”

“They’re ugly,” you whispered. He shook his head and lifted one of your hands to kiss your knuckles.

“Nothing about you is ugly, Y/n,” he said softly. “Don’t be ashamed of them. Please.”

You swallowed hard and closed your eyes for a moment. Once you gathered enough courage, you lifted your shirt up and over your head, knowing your scars were on full display for him if he just looked over your shoulder. You sighed and he lifted his hand to run over your shoulder, down your back, and to the clasp of your bra.

“Look at me,” he said. You complied, keeping your eyes on him as he unclasped your bra and gently pulled the straps down your arms. He tossed it behind him, leaving you naked beneath him. He leaned down to press a kiss to your shoulder. “I love every inch of you, Y/n.”

You shuddered as he kissed your neck again.

“I want you,” you whispered into his ear. You ran a hand over his back and up to scratch lightly at the nape of his neck.

He kissed you quickly and pushed his boxers down and off. His cock sprang free, and you reached down, gripping it. He groaned as you ran your thumb over his tip, spreading the pre-cum that beaded there, before stroking him a few more times.

“Do you want me?”

He cleared his throat and grunted as you squeezed him gently. “You know I do.”

You licked the shell of his ear, feeling him tremble beneath you. “Then show me.”

He snapped.

He growled low in his throat as he pushed you down gently, hovering over you, one hand gripping one of yours, the other batting your other hand away from his cock. You giggled and he gave you a pointed look before positioning himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock running up and down your slit a few times, lathering himself in your wetness. He pressed himself gently into you, only the tip of him nestled in your warmth.

He entwined your fingers together, eyes locked on yours as he slowly eased himself into you. You felt your walls stretch to accommodate him, a slight burn following, but it quickly eased as he bottomed out. 

“God, you feel good,” he said lowly into your ear. He gently pulled out until just the tip of his cock was inside you before pushing back in. He moved in long, deep strokes, and hell did it feel good. You slowly began to feel yourself moving with him, trying to match his thrusts and meet him there.

“Faster,” you pleaded, the coil once again beginning to wrap around itself. He bottomed out with each thrust, and his balls slapped against your ass with each plunge. He quickened his pace, but also lifted your leg to wrap around his waist. The angle allowed him to reach depths you didn’t even know you had. He brushed against your sweet spot with each stroke of his cock, and your eyes fell shut at the intense pleasure. 

“Dean, I need more,” you said breathlessly. He moved his hand down between you, his finger beginning to strum at your clit in small circles, the rhythm matching that of his thrusts. “I’m going to come.”

“You can do it, baby,” Dean said. “I’m right behind you.”

He began to rub your clit faster and harder, his hips stuttering into a sloppy pace as he neared his own end. With one more thrust of his cock against your sweet spot, you were coming, body spasming and inner walls clenching around his dick. He followed only moments after, his face buried in your neck as he moaned his relief, spilling himself deep inside you.

You stayed still for a moment, his cock still enveloped inside you as the two of you simply laid together in the afterglow. He kissed your neck and pulled out once his cock had softened inside you.

He left for a moment, disappearing into the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He swiped it between your legs, then his own, before he tossed it back into the bathroom. He climbed back into bed with you and pulled you against his chest. You winced as your scars rubbed up against his chest, but he simply pulled you tighter against him.

This was Dean. You shouldn’t be ashamed. Not around him. Not at all.

He kissed the back of your neck. “I will never, ever, hurt you again, Y/n.”

You grabbed hold of one of his hands, tugging it up to your chest over your heart, holding it there. You sighed happily and smiled.

“I know, Dean.”

He gently lifted a finger to tilt your chin back to look him in the eye. “No. You don’t. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” He kissed you softly. “I swear it.”

“I love you.”

He smiled, eyes crinkling as he looked at you. He kissed you again, gently, lovingly, and brushed a hand over the side of your face.

“I love you, too.”

#dean winchester x reader #supernatural #fanfiction #oneshot #commission #dean x reader #dean winchester #spn #waywardrose13

[superhero--imagines]

Part 12

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here!

* You stare at the blank ceiling, the smooth unblemished surface like freshly fallen snow

* you should really put some nudie posters up there or something to lighten the mood a little. 

* Light notes from the piano float around your room

* You sigh, so these are the facts as you know them:

* Edward is your best friend who has occasional bouts of brooding and flirtatious behavior.

* Bella is not albino, she has a lovely peach undertone, and a lovely grilled peach scent

* The entire coven has treated your attraction to this young lady’s blood like you got caught masturbating or wetting the bed or something

* “You don’t need to be embarrassed it’s a perfectly natural feeling.” Esme tells you while rubbing your shoulders

* “We’ve all been there” Rosalie reassures

* “Totally not a big deal, it happens to me everyday!” Jasper chimes in

* You wish sunlight hurt you so you could combust into flames on the spot

* The piano notes get louder, and you feel your mouth pinch into a frown.

* “Oh my god Edward! Read the room, I want brooding music!”

* Edward stops, up until then he had been playing a pretty cheerful Mozart piece

* You can tell he wants to ask why, you’ve been radiating joy non-stop since biology. But he decides against it

* “You really shouldn’t eat lying down.” He says as you sip blood while lying flat on your bed.

* “Okay dad.” You snort

* Edward starts to imagine what it would be like if you called him ‘daddy’

* All needy on top of him, your hands curled in fists against his chest, the breathy “daddy please” that leaves your mouth

* All of a sudden he’s ugly turned on

* “Ugh you’re no fun, I’m going to hang out with Rosalie”

* You leave the room and Edward has a total meltdown, is this what a kink is? Is he discovering a kink?!? At 100 years of age?!?!?!?

* Edward.exe is broken

* You don’t even make it to Rosalie’s room, you can smell them a mile away

* Broccoli, sugar and fat, and axe body spray. No peaches you realize with a sigh.

* They’ve only just barely rung the door bell when you open the door

* “Hey what are you guys doing here?”

* Jessica’s standing in front, looking pretty at ease, while Mike and Angela look equally uncomfortable.

* Makes sense, Jessica’s here all the time now either for homework or to watch TV.

* Mike and Angela haven’t been back since your sweet sixteen

* “How did you get down here so fast?”

* “I saw your car from upstairs” you say with a sheepish smile.

* You wish Alice would have given you a heads up, you weren’t planning on pretending to be human right now. Still you probably look raggedy enough right now in sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt

* You can probably pull this sick thing off

* “We just wanted to check up on you, I heard from Mike and Angela you got sick during class.” And then in a more annoyed tone Jessica adds “And I guess you’re too sick to respond to all my texts and calls”

* Oh crap, where is your phone.

* You pat your pockets, and think when you saw it last

* “I left it in my locker” you smack your head. You told Edward to go grab your bag from class but you forgot your phone.

* “Hey don’t worry about it, I can get it for you tomorrow if you want.” Jessica rushes to your side and pats your arm. You shake your head

* “No I can get it myself, I’m fine I just ate something bad.” You mumble.

* You’re not missing school tomorrow. You would literally risk murder to smell Bella again.

* It’s not insatiable thirst like described in the books, more like a craving, like someone might have for nachos.

* It itches at you for a while, but if you just distract yourself long enough you can move on

* “Would you like to come in? I think Esme just baked cookies or scones or something.”

* Esme likes to bake for the smell and donate the food to the local shelter. That, or take it for her employees at her architectural firm in town.

* Firm is a loose word, she has maybe four employees, and they get one job a month, but it seems to make her happy.

* Angela and Mike give each other looks but Jessica perks up

* “Is she making those delicious earl grey scones again?” You sniff the air

* “I think she made some of that orange zest butter too”

* “Omg I am so happy you left your phone at school” Jessica giggles walking inside past you, you hear her greet Esme with a squeal

* “They really are good.” You tell them and your remaining human friends enter the house carefully

* “Soooo where is everyone?” Mike asks taking a look around your living room.

* “Ummm Rosalie’s in the garage, Alice is probably meditating on the roof, Emmett’s at swim practice, and Jasper’s probably at the barn.”

* “What about Edward?” Angela asks before Mike can ask about the barn

* Last you saw him he was playing the piano in your room, but it’s been a while since then

* “He’s probably in his room monologuing about the degradation of the American dream or something.”

* You lead them into the kitchen where Esme and Jessica are already deep in conversation about the wonder of her baking

* “-side is so light and fluffy, how do you get the tea flavor though”

* “Witchcraft.” Esme jokes, giving a full smile before putting another tray in the oven. Only Jessica laughs, the other two are too nervous to even sit down

* “Why don’t I teach you how when you come over next week.”

* Yeah you’re pretty sure Jessica is really only a fan of the “eating” and not of the “baking”

* You’re half surprised when she seems happy at the invitation. 

* “Oh that sounds great, I can’t wait for it!” Jessica’s practically beaming

* Where’s Edward when you need him? You wonder what her motivations are. 

* Jasper is not going to like this. He’s already irritated enough that he’s kicked out of his own house every Friday when Jessica comes over to watch arrested development

* Before you can say anything to Esme the conversation moves forward

* “Did you guys hear about that security guard that died in Mason county?”

* She’s just making small talk, you know that. But you and Esme instantly tense at the mention

* Carlisle had mentioned he thought there was a nomad wandering through, they were still far enough not to cause the coven immediate trouble, but anything that brought more attention to them was a disadvantage

* “My Dad says he heard from Chief Swan it was probably a wild animal attack” Mike mumbles over a bite of scone, you figured he would be the easiest to win over with food

* You hide a smile behind your hand, he really is like a golden retriever

* “What kind of a wild animal climbs stairs into a building” Jessica mumbles over another bite of scone. And maybe to fit in, or maybe because she’s always been a nervous eater, Angela takes a bite too.

* “Oh wow, these are really good” she murmurs

* Esme Cullen ladies and gentleman, winning the hearts of teenagers with baked goods since 19XX

* “Well you kids stay safe, stay together if you can.” She pats your head and you nod.

* You don’t know the details of the attack, you get the feeling Carlisle still see’s you as a kid and he doesn’t want to burden you.

* But assuming the small changes that have happened have nothing to do with the large changes, that means Laurent, James and Victoria will be passing through soon.

* Maybe it’s for the best Bella doesn’t get involved with Edward until later.

* You’d really like to not get all mixed up in the whole “James Thing” if you can help it.

* “Are you staying for dinner? I’m thinking of whipping up some pasta, maybe a chicken?” Esme looks to you, yeah you have no idea how she’s going to manage that. Besides the baking basics there’s no actually food in this kitchen. And the one upstairs is just for your blood bags.

* “(Y/N), do you think...Carlisle would mind if we used one of... his chickens?”

* His chickens? The only chickens in the house-

* “No Esme! My chickens are only for love and chicken snuggles” and their blood which tastes very leans yet rich. “Not to eat!”

* “It would just be one-we’ll eat your least favorite!”

* You’re really hoping this is her way of chasing the humans out because she doesn’t want to cook.

* “No- oh my god- we’re going to the diner come on!” You say tugging Jessica and Angela to stand.

* “It was great seeing you again Mrs. Cullen, see you next week!” Jessica shouts as the three of them follow you out.

* “Going out? Is that such a good idea it’s late and a school night.” Edward says as he descends down the stairs

* “Oh my god, yes Dad I’ll be home before my curfew.” You say before leaving, cue Edward crumbling onto the stairs as he imagines you calling him “daddy” again

* “I’m going to hell, I’m definitely going to hell.” He mumbles, his face in his hand.

* It’s a really short drive to the diner, also known as the only place to eat in Forks in the mid 2000’s. 

*There’s not even a McDonald’s. It’s almost sad

* And when you get there, while everyone moves ahead to the table you see a familiar face.

* “Oh, Hey Bella”

* Your eyes met and you figured it would be rude not to say anything. It looks like she’s here having dinner with her Dad. 

*She really does look like her dad, same eyes, same cheekbones.

* “Nice to see you again Chief Swan”

* “Nice to see you too, how’s Carlisle doing? Heard it’s been busy at the hospital.”

* “Yeah, it’s like he doesn’t sleep anymore.” You grin at your own joke.

* “Are you feeling alright now?” Bella asks, she looks genuinely concerned

* “Yeah, I um, made some questionable food choices at lunch.”

* There’s an awkward moment of silence. You get the impression that Chief Swan and his daughter are both the “strong silent” types.

* It looks like they’ve both finished eating already

* If you had known she was going to be here you would have made Edward come with you. 

* “Oh hey, do you want to join us for dinner?” It just seems like the friendly thing to do for the new girl, something on-brand with human character

* Definitely not because if you get on her good side now, maybe she won’t kick you out once her and Edward get married. 

*Father and daughter exchange a glance and the familiar connection they have makes you nervous. 

*“Of course you don’t have to, I know you’re here with your dad so-“

* “I’m sure Bella would love to join-“ Charlie says at the same time Bella says:

* “Wouldn’t it be kind of weird since I already ate.”

* Ah, so they’re not as in sync as you thought. 

* You give your best “Golden Girl - You can totally trust me with your daughter” smile.

* “I’m actually not eating either,” you place a hand over your stomach like a human might. “The uh, Clam Linguine is still haunting me, so I’m sticking to broth and sprite.”

* Why did you say Clam? You don’t even eat meat, it’s how you’ve been getting away with eating so little at lunch. 

* “not a lot of vegetarian choices” You say to your human friends who nod solemnly. 

* Father and Daughter exchange another look likening telepathic communication and they both move to stand

* “I’m going to finish up some paperwork at the precinct, don’t stay out to late.” Charlie says, leaning down to kiss his daughter on the forehead

* You watch with warm eyes and a small smile twitching onto your lips

* Bella is so loved.

* You can’t believe she’s willing to break her dad’s heart just so she can be 19 forever.

* Which, as you are 19 forever, you can fairly say is overrated

* “Hey guys Bella’s joining us.”

* Your female friends offer her a polite smile, you see Angela gaze flick from the menu to Bella’s face. Silently calculating the worth of this opportunity

* Any intel on this new girl would be pretty valuable

* Same old Angela

* Mike sits up straight so fast that he actually knocks his silverware off the table.

* “H-hey Bella, Hi, w-what, what are you doing here?”

* “Eating.” Bella says it so bluntly that you can’t help but laugh.

* Mike flushes bright red and Jessica and Angela exchange a look before giggling.

* “I thought it would be cool if she came over since I didn’t get to talk to her much.” You take a seat next to Jessica and Bella follows by taking the last seat between you and Mike.

* You still catch whiffs of her scent her and there, especially when she’s sitting so close to you.

* But it’s not so bad, the peachy smell is making you a little lightheaded, but you can handle it.

* At least you’re not fantascizing about killing her and everyone in this room like a certain dork you know.

* “Do you guys want to do that promotion where we get the basket of fries for the table?” Jessica asks

* “I don’t like sharing fries with Mike he eats them all.” Angela mumbles

* Yeah you remember last time when after a football game the three of them actually sat down and divided the plate in three equal portions

* They even measured out each fry dividing up the extra long ones 

* “Says the person who basically eats ketchup with a spoon.” Mike retorts and Angela scoffs

* “It’s America’s best condiment for a reason Mike.” Angela snaps back

* “I think we’re getting off track, I say Mike buys us all french fries to make up for all the times he hogged the joint basket” Jessica’s teasing but Mike takes it seriously

* “What so I’m a French fry monster now?”

* “Yes” Both Angela and Jessica respond in unison without looking up from their menu cards

* “What do you think Bella?” You’re surprised that Jessica’s the one asking. You get the feeling she’s not very happy about Mike’s crush on Bella.

* “I think Mike should buy everyone their own basket since he has such a bad history with sharing.”

* “You traitor!” Mike mocks hurt and you all laugh.

* You look at Bella through the corner of your eye, maybe it’s just the lighting but she looks pinker when she’s laughing.

* She looks happy as she starts contributing to the conversation.

* “I will say the pie here is really good, I wouldn’t share even if someone paid me to.”

* “Omg yes, the cheery icebox pie is out of this world” Jessica responds

* “I’m partial to chess pie” Mike pipes in and Angela laughs

* “You guys are crazy, the fruit custard they make is the best”

* You grin as your four new friends argue about the superior dessert, watching Bella laugh beside you.

* Welcome to team human Bella

Tags:  @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @xxxmuxxx @puritanicalhypocrite

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight headcanon #twilight reader insert #edward cullen imagine #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen #edward and bella #bella swan x reader #Bella x reader #bella swan #Jessica Stanley x reader #mike newton #angela weber #midnight sun #superhero--imagines

[only-goose]

Whitlocked

this scene tho 😍😍

just a fluff about losing each other then finding each other, enjoy!

*******************************************************************************************

Jasper Whitlock was the best man you had ever met. He joined the confederate army when he was 17 and became the youngest major they ever had. He was a headstrong, testosterone filled sweetheart. He was turned into a vampire by Maria at 20, and you never saw him again. You and Jasper had been dating for a year and half when he joined, and you were broken when he never came back. You found Jasper’s boss and asked how he died. “He didn’t, he ran away” he replied. You were shocked. Jas had run away, not a word to you. You began waking home, it was dark and eerie, and you were walking alone. You didn’t care, the man you loved had run away.

There was a bunch of loud, rowdy people in front of you, and they made you nervous. You turned the go a different way to house you used to share with Jasper before the group could see you. Unfortunately, you tripped, and squealed as you fell over, alerting the group you were there. You quickly got up and kept walking, trying to avoid them. They caught up to you pretty quick. “What are doing out here on your own darlin?” he rasped. The group gave you a hungry look, and you were desperate to leave. “Heading home to my husband, so I better get going, goodbye” you replied. You felt bad about lying, you so badly wanted it to be real.

“I don’t think so, you can hangout with us for a while” he replied at your attempt to freedom. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into him, biting into your neck. Agony coursed through your veins, they left you on the ground, screaming in pain. A tall pale figure appeared above you. He had blonde hair, slicked back, and sharp features. He picked you up as you passed out. You remember his skin being stone cold, shocking you, yet calming you as he carried you away.

You woke up in a white room, a doctor’s office maybe. The man who picked you up walked in and started to talk to you, asking your name, what happened and why you were walking out by yourself. “My name is Y/N, those men came after me and bit my neck and left, and I was alone because I was trying to figure out where my boyfriend would be and why he ran away”. You were upset, yet you shed no tears. The man introduced himself as Carlisle, he was an experienced doctor and started to explain why they bit your neck.

You decided to stay with Carlisle, he took care of you and introduced you to his family, Esme, Rosalie, Emmet, Edward, Alice. You learnt how to control your blood lust and you became “vegan”. You still thought of Jasper every day. You had heard about the war that vampires had wagered against humans, and how the vampires lost, taken out by someone on the inside. One night you decided to go and have a look at where the war was waged. You ran there, not before telling Carlisle you were going to be out for a while. Once you got there, you saw how beautiful the sight was you were stunned.

You heard someone behind and turned around as humanly as you could. As you turned around, you were met with the sandy curls you missed so much. It was Jasper. A very pale Jasper with red pupils, unlike your golden ones.” Jasper?” you called out, making sure it was him. He hasn’t changed at all, then it occurred to you, you couldn’t hear a heartbeat or smell blood. He is like you; he is a vampire. “Y/N?” Jasper called “What are you doing here?” he asked, slowly walking towards him. You explained what had happened to you and how the Cullen family had taken you in. You continued to slowly walk towards him. “Where have you been Jas? I missed you”. You saw hurt flash through his eyes. He explained how the became general and was turned by Maria, who used him to fight her war, only for her to end up dead, and him, alone and scarred.

 You couldn’t take it anymore; you closed the gap between you and hugged him. It took hm a second to process what was happening before he hugged you back, snuggling into your neck, mumbling “I missed these”. You giggled and hugged him tighter. “Why don’t you come back to the Cullen’s with me? We can be together, like we were supposed to before all this madness happened?”. You pulled away to watch his reaction, he looked you in the and nodded, you smiled and kissed his cheek, took his hand, and ran back to the Cullen clan. You introduced him to your “family” and told them his story, while he shyly stood behind you. They accepted him as they did you, and decided to take him hunting, you came with him, of course. He was very clingy towards you, not wanting to leave your side.

He struggled with his bloodlust. You went hunting, just you two. You could smell a human, rock climbing. Their blood was pumping. You quickly rain in front of Jasper, trying to get his attention. “Jas? Jas! Look at me, look at me!” you held his face and made him look into your eyes. He put his hands on your waist, gripping you hard. You kissed him. It was the first time you had kissed as vampires. It was different then before. It was soft and tender and loving, above all else. That is when you knew, he was all you would ever need. You would happily spend forever together.

#jasper whitlock #twilight #fluff #the cullens #vampire #turning #Jasper Cullen #jasper hale

[itsmyturnonthegender]

So, as he is 1000+ years dead at time of canon and mainly exists as part of Favien's backstory, rather than writing a character profile for Saba, I'm just writing his story right now so uh here's part one I guess, more soon probably.

~~~

The night after their wedding and Jasper's appointment as God of Nature, Favien and Jasper are lying together in bed, Favien stroking Jasper's hair and Jasper gently tracing the veins in his wings with a claw.

"Favien?"

"Yes, Love?"

"How did you get this scar? You don't have any others, so why didn't this one fade?"

"Oh, I got that before I stopped aging. Couldn't have been much more than twenty years old, I think. Crossbows are quite dangerous when mishandled, you know?"

The sprite giggles and looks up at his new husband's smiling face, "You don't expect me to believe it was an accident do you? What happened?"

"I- it's- It's a long story."

"We have all the time in the world," he pressed

"It's really not that interesting," Jasper's ear twitches as he shifts to more comfortably meet his gaze, a slight frown casting an unspoken accusation.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," he lets out a deep sigh, "Look, it- concerns an ex-lover. My first, actually. I never really got over losing him" Favien murmurs.

Jasper reached out to stroke his cheek, "If it brings back painful memories, you don't have to tell me."

"No, it's okay. It's already been brought up so I might as well. And besides," he adds with a sly grin, "I've never been one to leave a man as handsome as you unsatisfied."

"You only ever have one thing on your mind, don't you?"

"Always, Darling, always." he continues, "So, do you want to hear the story?"

Jasper nods and falls silent, laying his head on Favien's bare chest.

"Okay uh..." he trails off, staring at the ceiling in thought, "I was born on Earth, my family lived in a forest near a seaside village which, if I recall correctly, would now be in France. It's beautiful, I'll have to take you sometime.

My parents, of course, warned me to stay well clear of the humans as they had always been a volatile, superstitious bunch and our little tribe had been attacked and forced to relocate several times before. I paid little heed to their advice. I never was the obedient type.

I was exploring near the forest's edge, much closer to the village than I should ever have been, when I found a secluded clearing with a stream-fed pool and there, bathing in the crystal clear water, I saw the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on. He had fair, unmarked skin that told me he'd never worked afield a day in his life, but I figured he must have been a trained fighter or perhaps a hunter to have such impressive musculature. He was built like a daydream, broad and toned with golden curls that fell to his shoulders and close-cropped stubble.

Until I saw him, I didn't even know I liked men. I'd never in my life felt such attraction. He truly took my breath away."

"Your first lover was a human?" Jasper interjects.

Favien nods, "Mmhm, and a noble at that. Though I can't tell you what kind of power he held, I still know nothing of human politics."

@zypiris

#a guide to the gods #writers block can suck my balls #to archive #lUwUcien

[bald-tales]

New Life for Cooper.

By Titan

PART ONE

A drunken night out for a 21st birthday celebration leads to a total transformation of body and mind.

New life for Cooper!

Cooper wasn’t sure where he was as the sudden downpour made him seek cover.

He was in a part of town he’d never visited before and judging by the delapidated store fronts and closed shutters it didn’t look like anyone else visited either. At first he feared for his safety on the deserted streets, now he was more worried of getting drenched through.

Then suddenly he noticed a light in a window ahead. He made his way to the door and as he pushed it open he felt the warmth of the shop straight away. As he pulled the door shut he realised he was in a Barber shop. A very traditional one at that judging by the two, red leathered chairs in front of a mirror surrounded by old, faded photos of mens hairstyles.

He could hear soft voices then music and realised a radio was playing in a back room somewhere.

‘Ah! Hello young men’ a deep voice welcomed him. ‘what brings you out in weather like this?’

The truth was he’d been out with friends celebrating his 21st birthday. Finally legal age, he had done far too much celebrating and before long he’d pissed everyone off which he had a habit of doing.

This making him bravely decide to carry on his own celebrating, leaving his friends behind. In fact, most of his friends only hung around the conceited Cooper, because of his popularity. His boyish good looks and thick golden blonde hair made him popular with the ladies at his college. He was also a star athlete, at 6 foot and possessing a tight six pack, that men and woman drooled over.

Pissed off and drunk he’d taken a wrong turn or two.

‘Well it’s my birthday, and I was looking to carry on with the party seeing my friends deserted me, but it doesn’t look like there’s one going on in here.’ He lightly laughed as he came closer to the man, oblivious to how drunk he had become. ‘This is some setup you have.’

’ Well happy birthday son. Here! Why don’t you get out of those clothes before you catch cold,’ the man replied as he came from behind a nearby counter, sizing up his visitor.

’ Ah, that’s alright. I’m keeping my clothes on old man. I’m not into any fag shit you know’ he stammered suddenly aware of how the man before him was looking at him. The little man had a dark twinkle in his eye, something that made Cooper uneasy despite his drunken state. His physical look placed him somewhere near 60 but something in those eyes made the man look younger.

‘No offence old man!’ Cooper added holding up his hands. ‘I’ve got nothing against gays you know!’

‘None taken young sir! But why don’t you come by my fire to dry and I’ll make you a hot chocolate’.

‘You wouldn’t have anything stronger?’ He asked as he went to warm himself by the small electric heater that seemed to offer a lot of heat for its size.

‘What about a beer? I’m sure I have something you’ll like!’ The man said with a mischievous sound in his voice.

‘Now that’s more like it!’ Cooper said having a closer look at his host.

‘Sorry there goes my manners. My name is Jasper, Samuel Jasper.’ Offering his hand. ‘But you can call me Sam.’

‘Yeah. Ah, Cooper. Cooper Denwood.’ Taking the small offered hand then noticing the grip was solid for an old man. He was probably only 5 foot nothing but what he lacked in height he made up in weight. He carried a huge potbelly. His hair was a mere horseshoe of short, white hair, the top being shiny bald, and a large white moustache with the ends curled upwards, sat above his top lip.

’Now let me find you a beer!

Starting to feel warm and relaxed Cooper removed his leather jacket exposing a tight t-shirt damp and clinging to an extra large set of pectorals any man would be proud of.

His host returned with a large mug of frosty beer. ‘Here Mr Denwood, I’m sure you’ll enjoy this.’

Taking the mug gratefully he started to drink the contents not even stopping to think about it being drugged. Besides the old man looked harmless enough. ‘You’re not drinking?’ He suddenly said between gulps.

‘No, no, afraid I’m not a big drinker!’

‘Could have fooled me.’ Cooper said not aware how drunk he was getting and eyeing the beer gut on the little man.

Tapping his belly Jasper smiled before saying, ‘ah! You’ve noticed my little addition. I just happen to like my food too much.’

‘Any more of this beer? It sure is good!’ Cooper spluttered as he finished the beer in quick time.

‘Sure, but you should slow down or you could end up with a belly yourself.’ And with that he disappeared out the back.

’No chance of that old man. My metabolism works overtime. Besides, I work out all the time, ’he called out as he subconsciously took his damp t-shirt off feeling the heat of the small shop building.

Coming back with another even larger mug of beer his eyes marveled at the upper torso of his guest.

’It certainly looks like you work hard at keeping that body!" Jasper said as he studied his next victim.

"Not really,’ Cooper boasted as he downed the beer. ‘A bit of time in the gym, some swimming. Nothing to it really.’ It seemed to be loosening his tongue more and more.

‘You are certainly a confident lad.’ Jasper said as he lit a pipe.

‘Yeah! Some people say arrogant, but I say if you’ve got it, flaunt it.’ He laughed starting to feel the effects of the beer, which was also making him even drunker, and not even thinking about how he was talking.

‘Well I suppose while you have it, but you won’t always look like this.’ Jasper said puffing steadily on his pipe.

‘Well, I got a way to go before I look like you old man, if that’s what you mean,’ he laughed finishing the last of the beer. ‘Got anymore.? This stuff is addictive.’

‘Sure do. But maybe you should ease up.’

‘I can handle it old man, don’t sweat it…..(cough!)’ The tobacco that filled the shop was having the desired effect as well.

‘I hope my pipe isn’t bothering you, Cooper?’

‘No…… I mean it’s okay…….(cough!) I’m getting used to it.’ He lied as he’d always hated smoking and it’s effects on the body.

‘Well I didn’t always look like I do now you know?’ Sam decided to see how much control he had of his visitor.

‘Well you ain’t got to be an Einstein to figure that pops!’ Cooper started to slurr some of his words.

’I don’t think you understand. I’m saying that I chose to look as I do now. In fact only a few years ago I looked very much like you, young and athletic.

‘What the fuck? Why would you choose to look like some old, fat guy? Besides, I think you’ll find no one can age that quick, maybe your memory plays up?’

‘Thanks for the compliment, you certainly speak your mind.’ Sam was amazed at the youths lack of tact. ‘And my memory is fine; I met a man some years ago that showed me new life and direction. I had no idea what I wanted to do and Ivan set me up in this Barbershop. He helped mould my look and the rest is as you say history.’

‘Yeah! Great!’ Cooper said now not really listening, ‘got…….another……beer?’

‘You better watch that stuff, it’s potent you know?’ Then Sam went out back to get another beer.

‘I can…..handle my beers pops……. don’t you worry!’

When he returned he had a oversized pitcher filled with beer. ‘Well if you are so confident about your alcohol intact I’ll save my legs by giving you plenty to go on with.’

‘Thanks Sam. Glad you….. getting….in the spirit,’ Cooper said as he grabbed the pitcher and started to down the beer as if he’d never had a drink.

‘See….. old man……. The Coop….is handling it.’ He slurred as he wiped his mouth.

The drugs were working as Sam could see the beads of sweat on the kids face.

’Sheez…it’s hot in here…… ’

’Well take that shirt off boy!’Sam said sternly. And with that, Cooper obeyed without question,stripping his shirt off revealing a tight set of pecs.

‘And those jeans!’ He added sounding even more in charge. And the jeans came off, the stud was wearing no underwear so everything was now on show for Sam who

Iiterally was licking his lips at the body before him.

Already the results of the beer intake was showing as the tight abs had lost their definition.

‘That is one impressive penis young man. I bet you can make it grow even bigger, start making it bigger for me.’

As the combined effects of the drugs in the beer and the pipe tobacco, overtook him he couldn’t help but touch his cock, running his hands up and down the slowly stiffening length. It felt good, he wasn’t sure why he was doing it in front of the old man before him but he didn’t care.

The cock had grown to an impressive 10 inches.

Laying his pipe on the counter he asked,‘Would you like me to suck your cock Cooper?’

Without waiting for an answer he added, ‘Say yes please Master Sam’.

‘Ah… Yesss……pl…ease…….master…Sam’ he moaned as he kept pulling on his massive member, answering the only why he felt he could.

He felt the whiskers of the old mans thick, moustache first as his cock slowly was engulfed in the barbers mouth. As he looked down at he shiny head of the man sucking away at his cock, he thought maybe this was all wrong. But only for a second as he felt the ecstasy of having this man give him the best darn blow job ever.

He had never felt this good before and as he shot his load, he was surprised the barber swallowed every last drop.

Cooper couldn’t help thinking his former girlfriends had never sucked him off as well as this old fat guy before him.

Suddenly feeling the effects of everything he started to feel sleepy, ’geez …..I can hardly keep….my….. eyes…..open..’he found himself being led to the barbers chair, hardly noticing how strong the small barber was.

‘Now Cooper, I told you to slow down on that beer. It sneaks up on you’.

Settling in the chair totally naked he protested, ‘I…..can …..dr..ink, more…….. It’s no…pro……’

’Well if you insist.’returned Sam, ‘your the big stud on campus.’

‘Yeah……stud…….better believe…….old….man.’ He muttered now not really able to move.

‘Soon you will be less of a stud and more of a slave to me.’ Sam replied adding,‘Well, at least I won’t have to restrain you, such a willing customer. Makes my job easier!’

‘Why…..can’t move…….so tired…….’

‘So first things first. You insisted on being a big drinker. Well let’s fulfil that request.’

Sam took his hands and placed them on each side of the head. Suddenly Coopers eyes opened fully.

‘Now Cooper. You told me how you can handle my special brew. From now on you will insist on coming here for another drink. You will enjoy the beer belly your growing, it will turn you on as much as the sound of my clippers. Everything that happens here makes you feel more and more like a man. A mature man, the man we all want you to be. As you drink more of my beer you will become more willing to do whatever I tell you. You want to make your new friend Sam happy. You want to become his friend more than anything in the world. Every time you come here you will feel more and more at ease, hoping to please your new friend. Whatever I ask of you will be done without question. You will be loyal to me and only me. You have no control over what I ask of you. You will love everything that happens in this shop looking forward to every visit. You will recommend Sam’s services to all your friends. You want to see all your friends become real men as well. That’s what you want in your friends and any new man you meet. You are attracted to older men. You appreciate the look achieved by the years on real men. Their baldness, their facial hair, not to mention their beer bellies. It all adds to their handsome maturity, something you look forward to yourself. You can’t wait to look older, to please your new master Sam. It’s what you’ve always craved, you just didn’t know it till you met me. I will turn you into the person you want to be; older, sexier and loyal. a proper gentleman.’

Cooper felt relaxed. He could here the familiar voice of the barber called Sam. He was such a nice man. He wondered if he could come here again. He felt so good, so relaxed and at ease. Why did he want to come back? Oh! That’s right for the beer. And the blow job. Could he get that again? Why didn’t it bother him. Oh! That’s right, it was something that mature guys did around each other. Real men understood this.

Still under the influence of the master barber; Oh! and the combination of drugs flowing through his system, Cooper heard the clack of the heavy-duty clippers.

Suddenly, he could feel his penis react.

"So Cooper! How about we start that haircut you came in for?’ Sam said as he moved the clippers closer to the youth’s thick, blonde hair.

‘The haircut. Did I want that?’ he answered stroking his thickening shaft. he thought he wanted more of that great beer.

‘Yes Cooper; why else would you be in my chair? Remember you asked to look more manly. You are sick of all this boyish hair. I’m sick of all this boyish hair. You want to make Sam happy don’t you?’

Something deep down inside him told him this was all wrong but the new found feelings in him or rather his cock argued otherwise.

‘Yes! Sam happy!’

Seeing more mind control was needed Sam switched off the clippers. ‘Maybe another beer first. Where are my manners?’ He went to get another beer while Cooper stopped pleasuring himself.

[fanficteen]

gone (4)

tw: implied/referenced self harm, self-destructive behaviours & tendencies, references to canonical suicidal tendencies

“I need you to drop the illusion.” Carlisle’s hand was cool on your cheek, golden eyes pleading with yours, even as you stiffened. “I know I can’t ask you to trust me, but at least trust my medical degree. I need to make sure they’re not infected.” There was no way out of this, except to set your jaw and let the glamour drop. Carlisle whispered thanks, resisted the urge to say anything further as he cleaned the wounds up your arms, in various states of healing. “I’m sorry.” You didn’t owe him an apology. “You don’t need to be.” A bandage swept up each wrist as he released them, finally meeting your eyes again. “I let you down.”  You resisted the urge to comfort him with false assurances that he hadn’t, that it didn’t matter, that he was here now. “I won’t let it happen again.” You wondered if you were naive for starting to believe him.

You came home to a house in chaos, Billy’s sad eyes meeting yours from the middle of Jacob and Rachel’s screaming match, Paul growling at Jacob over Rachel’s shoulder. “HEY!” Your voice cut them both off and the whole pack’s eyes turned to you. “What the hell is going on?” “(Y/N)!” Rachel was on you in a moment, beating her werewolf brother to the punch. “Are you ok? I came by the house but Bella told me you were fine and sent me home.” “I’m fine,” you soothed, grasping her hands. “Just had a few things to sort out.” “So you’re going crawling back to him, huh?” Jacob challenged, surly. “After everything he did?” “We’ll see,” you answered, steadily, determined not to match his anger. “I’m still researching. Even if he keeps this promise, I don’t want to know I have to rely on him.” He grunted some kind of disapproval, but let it go. “The doctor fixed you up?” Billy confirmed, a rough nod at your wrapped wrists, face calm around his storming eyes. You nodded, not trusting your voice. “What?” Jacob’s confused eyes shot to your wrists, the emotions his father hid in his eyes warring for primacy on Jacob’s younger face. “What happened?” You flicked your eyes away from him, only to be caught by Sam’s sorrowful gaze. “Jake–“ “Did he hurt you?!” “No, it’s not like that,” you assured him, frantic. “Jacob,” Sam warned, lowly, but was ignored. “Then what is it like? Who the hell hurt you?!” Sam’s hand landed on his shoulder, trying to soothe the swirling tension. “I DID!” He wilted back into Sam’s grip, eyes wide and tearful, as you buried your face in your hands. “I did.” Billy caught you by the elbow before you could bolt, settling you on his lap in a warm embrace, just as he had done when you were a child, large calloused hands clutching you to him as you sobbed. “It’s time we left,” Sam commented, distantly. “Paul, you too.” Even Rachel’s hotheaded mate didn’t complain at the command, leaving Jacob and Rachel alone to stare at you, aghast, still curled up to your surrogate father’s chest.

Eventually, you unfurled to explain yourself, swiping at the tear tracks sticky on your cheeks as you spoke. Spoke of the pulsing pain of an absent soul bond, of the darker magics you could unlock with only your blood and breath to command it. Of the stinging clarity seeping from open wounds. Jacob’s face hardened into silent stone, and you watched him sink away from you. “I need to go–“ “No!” Hard, dark eyes turned to you. “I can’t be around you–“ “I’ll go.” You stood and grabbed the jacket and handbag you’d discarded by the door. “I’ll be back in a couple of days.” “Running back to your vampire?” Jacob sneered, ignoring Billy’s firm scolding. You didn’t deign to respond, just stepped out the door and slipped away into the woods. Chilled darkness blanketed around you, heavy on your shoulders, but familiar. The woods breathed a peace that you had missed from your time upriver – no vampires, no humans, no shifters. Just… nature. Unaltered. Footsteps approached behind you, hot-blooded heartbeat fitting the hand that landed on your shoulder, that pulled you into a warm body. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.” Sam’s voice spoke of sorrow and understanding, of scars too fresh for either of you to be comfortable. You sniffled into his chest. “You can come home with me, or I can take you to your imprint, or–“ “Alice.” Why her name was the first to tumble from your lips, you weren’t sure, but the pixie-like girl swam starlight in your mind’s eye – promises of safety, of honest truth. “I’ll call Alice.” Sam nodded, letting you fumble for your phone. “Alright, we’ll head in that direction while you call her.” His warm arm never left your shoulders as he turned you around, setting off towards the clearing around the Cullens’ home.

You woke the next morning to a cup of steaming tea placed on the bedside table, as Alice took a seat on the bed beside you, offering you a soft smile. Just like the night before, you appreciated the quiet, the lack of questioning – she had opened the door as you murmured your gratitude to Sam, who had given Alice a begrudging nod as he disappeared back into the treeline. You were drawn out of your memory when Alice pulled you close and you let yourself melt into the cool familiarity of her arm draped around you. “How are you feeling, sweetie?” You hummed, closing your hands around your mug as you thought. “I don’t know,” you admitted, eventually. Alice turned her palm over, a wordless invitation, and you placed your hand in hers, letting pain fear anger hurt fear fear love love love burn through the temporary bond. Alice didn’t flinch away, didn’t give any indication that she felt it, her than her fingers intertwining with yours, her other hand combing through your hair. “I just don’t know who I can trust anymore. It’s like… every anchor I had was ripped away and even when the storm clears, it’s not going to carry me back to familiar waters or fix my broken masts.” Your eyes dropped to your bandaged arms. “I’m not even sure they can be fixed. Maybe I’m already a wreck and I’m just waiting for the water to drown me.” “You’re not.” Firm, sure, Alice’s words held every bit of the determination you’d come to know from her. “You’re not broken, you’re not a wreck, and you’re not alone. I know – I know we hurt you, but we’re here now. From now on, we’re here whenever you need us, whatever you need us for. And I know that Billy and even Sam will be too, even if we don’t get along with them. You’re important to both of us, so we’ll make it work.” Protests and disagreements stung on the tip of your tongue, shattered trust and hurt and fear, but Alice’s hands were steady and so was her voice, as she promised she was here. As she promised she wasn’t going anywhere. You didn’t realise you’d lost your shields until an artificial kind of calm washed over you, Jasper padding silently into the room. “Be gentle with yourself,” he requested, quietly, dropping at Alice’s side, golden eyes soft and warm, despite his ice-cold skin. You let his calm steady you, before you began to build your walls back up, closing off their powers.

“Thank you.” Alice smiled at your quiet words, Jasper simply inclining his head in quiet acknowledgement. “Bella’s making waffles,” Alice prompted, after you finished composing yourself, jigsaw puzzle pieces falling into place again. “You wanna shower and come down?” “I don’t have any clothes.” Alice paused. Her clothes wouldn’t fit you, but… “You’re welcome to borrow some of Carlisle’s clothes.” Perhaps, the scent of your soulmate would help soothe you, as well, despite his role in the fragile cracks of your heart. “He’s at the hospital at the moment, so you can use his bathroom and get changed in his room, if you’d like. He should be back soon. But if you’re not comfortable with that, I’m sure you can borrow one of the other guys’ clothes, or someone can duck over to–“ “Are you sure that’s okay?” Alice’s eyes softened. “Of course it is. Carlisle won’t mind one bit, so long as you’re safe and happy… or as close as you can be.”

You stepped out of the warm water feeling a little more like a person, and pulled on the first of Carlisle’s shirts that you found, a button up that draped comfortably down to your knees. Once your hair was dry enough not to soak the shirt, you hung up the towel Alice had lent you and headed downstairs towards the quiet chatter in the living room. Edward was draped over Bella’s shoulders as she cooked, Esme watching fondly as Alice and Emmett bantered over who was really Mr Johnson’s favourite, Rosalie rolling her eyes at them from where she leaned into Emmett’s side. Jasper offered you a gentle smile as you entered and you returned it, only to freeze in place as a familiar head of blond hair poked out of the pantry, which had been stocked with some more human-friendly foods since their return and Bella’s regular presence. “I knew we had maple syrup!” he announced, holding the bottle up victoriously. “Great. (Y/N), what do you want on your waffles?” Bella shot the query over her shoulder as she finished plating up the waffles and turned to plop a plate in front of you. Your tongue tumbled over itself before you managed to sputter a response, earning yourself a concerned look from most of the room. “We’ll leave you two to eat,” Esme decided, ushering the vampires out of the kitchen. Apparently, no matter how good your shields were, you still had an expressive face. Bella leaned against the counter across from you, chewing her waffles and examining you thoughtfully. “Do I need to punch Jacob, or someone else?” she asked, eventually, and you smiled, sombrely, though the effect was ruined a little by the mouthful of waffles bulging your cheeks. “I don’t know who I’m most angry at, so I’ll give you a pass on the punching for the moment.” She laughed, and for a moment things were almost normal. Almost. “What are we doing here?” Bella blinked up at your sudden question. “…eating waffles.” “Yeah, but why are we here, eating waffles, with the people who abandoned us? Why can’t I still be angry? I’m still hurting, like every time I see him the wounds reopen but he’s the only one who can stitch them up and I just don’t get it! Why was it so easy for them to leave us, but we can’t ever stay away?” You were crying now, and Bella offered her shoulder before you ruined your waffles, soft circles running along your shoulders. “It wasn’t easy for them to leave us. And it wasn’t easy for any of us to come back. But… this is where we’re meant to be. No matter what happens now, we all belong together. We can heal together.” She pulled back, brushing tears from your perpetually stained cheeks, and offered a soft smile. “I know they fucked up. I know we fucked up. But… we can do better.”

a/n: sorry for the wait y’all, have some platonic bonding

@mylovelyjoon @kyrah-williams @crazycookiecrumbles @mangoberry43 @misselsbells06

#gone #gone (carlisle x reader) #carlisle cullen #carlisle #carlisle cullen imagine #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle x reader #cullens x reader #bella swan #alice cullen #jacob black #billy black #twilight #twilight imagine #twilight fanfiction #twilight x reader #tw self harm #tw implied self harm #tw self harm mention #self destruction #tw self destructive behaviours #sam uley

[hermits-that-craft]

In My Dreams (Will You Remember Me?)

Flower Husbands Fic - Chapter Four - The hues in our hair compliment one another

Ao3 in the comments

Jimmy watches as the guests walk in, gawking at the decorations that he, Katherine and Gem put so much effort into. Pride fills his chest - a week of hard work paying off in happy citizens and rulers alike. Jimmy nods politely to Iris as they walk in, he knows that being one of Pix’s advisors means that the dryad doesn’t get much time off, so he hopes that they enjoy themself.

A group of dryads bow to him before they disappear into the crowd, which makes him happy - he’s still recognisable with the mask that Katherine gave him. It’s a standard masquerade mask, though it has small cod painted on it in bronze paint, though it has a white veil attached the the lower half to cover his face. It was nice of Katherine, to remember that he prefers to hide his face.

He feels safe with his face hidden.

Jimmy watches as a young woman in a black cloak comes in, and an axolotl hybrid from his empire chats with a man from Mezalea. He’s glad that they opened to ball not only to the leaders of the empires but their citizens as well, and a fae man in a forest green vest dances with a spirit in a ribbon skirt.

The doors open, distracting Jimmy from people watching for a moment.

Lizzie walks in, the necklace around her neck shimmering in the glow from the purple lanterns. Jimmy watches as everyone gawks at the wedding gift that he gave her - it’s rare to see her wear it out of battle. The necklace has two axolotls, one made of rose quartz and the other of red jasper, curled around a pearl and inset in silver. It was handcrafted by the finest artisans of the Cod Empire, and Jimmy himself carefully enchanted it with healing and protection.

The best wedding gift she received, if Jimmy does say so himself.

“You clean up nicely, did Katherine give you that suit?” Lizzie teases, pointedly ignoring the stares she receives as she walks across the room to him.

“You’ll find that your husband did, for your wedding.” Jimmy smiles. “Though I did get it altered slightly for the party.”

“You didn’t put slime in it, did you?”

“Lizzie!” Jimmy gasps, pushing his sisters arm in rage. She laughs, ignoring his fake rage.

“I’m very glad you ditched the cod head.” She says. “I think Katherine would have killed you.”

“She actually gave me this mask.” Jimmy admits. 

“Ohh, look at Scott’s outfit.” Lizzie says, and Jimmy turns back to the crowd. 

Scott stands next to Joey, looking mildly uncomfortable. The king of the lost empire wears a red suit with a black crown, rubies and jaspers adorning it. But Joey’s outfit pales in comparison to the one that Scott wears.

Scott’s wearing an intricate white top, with long sleeves that bell out at the end. He has a high waisted skirt, fading from a sky blue into a deep, ocean blue. He looks like he’s stepped out of a high fantasy story, a golden crown shimmering in his blue hair. He looks stunning, making Jimmy feel almost as though he’s underdressed.

Scott makes eye contact with Joey, an emotion Jimmy doesn’t understand flashes in Scott’s eyes as he walks over to Jimmy.

“Lizzie, I think I’ve made him angry.” Jimmy mumbles, breaking eye contact with Scott. 

“He’s your land boy, you work it out.” Lizzie says. “I need to go find my land boy.”

“Scott isn’t mine, Lizzie - Don’t leave me!” Jimmy protests, but it’s already too late, the queen of the ocean has left Jimmy to whatever fate Scott has planned for him.

Hopefully Lizzie will hold a nice funeral for him.

“You look nice.” Scott says softly, barely audible over the music.

“Oh, thank you.” Jimmy says, the back of his neck reddening. “You clearly outclass everyone here.”

“You really think so?” Scott asks, his face red. Poor Scott, he mustn’t get complimented often. 

“I know so.” Jimmy smiles, though the man can’t see it.

“Could I ask you to dance?” Scott asks, offering Jimmy his hand. Jimmy blinks in surprise, looking into Scott’s eyes in shock. The elven man’s eyes glitter in the lantern light, light and full of something Jimmy can’t quite place.

Even so, Jimmy puts his hand into Scott’s, and lets the man pull him into a dance.

Scott’s hand rests on Jimmy’s waist, and Jimmy puts his hand on Scott’s shoulder, letting him lead. Scott, thankfully, doesn’t mention when Jimmy steps on his feet, the king just mumbling instructions to Jimmy as he leads them.

“You teach dances like this often?” Jimmy asks breathlessly, trying to concentrate on not stepping on Scott’s feet.

“No, I don’t. I don’t think I’m even teaching you this correctly.” Scott admits. “I’m not even sure this is a real dance.”

“This feels pretty real to me.” Jimmy says, his heart picking up. “Kind of familiar, like I’ve done it in a dream, but real?”

“This is dreamlike?” Scott asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Jimmy admits. “Do you think we could spin with this dance.”

“If you want to, then of course.” Scott says, spinning Jimmy around.

Jimmy giggles slightly, breathless as his hand falls onto Scott’s shoulder again. Scott leads them again, and Jimmy lets his feet go without thinking. It’s like the dance he had in his nightmare, with his shadow husband. Scott’s hand on his waist is comforting, a promise of safety, in a party of peace.

The music slows and they stop, breathless and hearts hammering. Jimmy takes his hand off of Scott’s shoulder, pulling away from his dance partner.

“I’m going to get a drink, you coming?” Jimmy offers. Maybe this could end with a new ally, a new friend.

“I need some air.” Scott admits, rubbing the back of his neck as though he’s nervous. “I’ll see you later?”

“See you soon.” Jimmy promises, smiling brightly at the elf.

The other man just nods, walking out of the room and up the stairs. Jimmy moves off of the dancefloor, avoiding bumping into people as he makes his way to the table, picking a prawn off of the table to eat while he looks for something to drink.

“Enjoying the food?” Pearl asks, startling Jimmy.

“It’s nice.” Jimmy says. “I love the prawns.”

“Thank you! I was hoping to get something from every empire.” Pearl says. “I’m glad I got something for you and Lizzie. Your empires were the hardest.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I could have helped.” Jimmy apologises.

“Don’t be. Be more sorry that you didn’t tell Katherine about you and Scott. She’s rather excited that the prospect of you two being together.”

“What?” Jimmy asks, blinking.

“Oh, if it’s supposed to be a secret I’ll tell her to leave you two alone.” Pearl says, laughing. “Next time, though, don’t dance in a public ball like that. Rumours will spread!”

Jimmy stands confused, staring at the space that Pearl used to be in. He must be tired, why would anyone start a rumour about him and Scott? There’s nothing to talk about. They’re potentially friends, barely aquantinces. 

“I should find Scott.” Jimmy mumbles, walking in a daze towards the stairs. Scott must be on the balcony, right?

“Jimmy!” Pixl says, relief on his face. “You need to come with me. We’re leaving.”

“What?” Jimmy asks incredulously. “Why are we leaving?”

“Emergency at Lizzie’s empire, she’s asked that we both attend.” Pixl says, grabbing Jimmy’s hand and dragging him out. 

“What’s the emergency?” Jimmy asks, waving goodbye to Pearl and Gem at the door. The two of them share relieved looks as Pixl drags Jimmy further away.

Lizzie and Joel stand in the middle of the courtyard, holding a spare pair of elytra that they put of Jimmy’s shoulders as Pixl straps himself into his own elytra. Jimmy straps the elytra on, wriggling uncomfortably.

“What’s going on?”

“Gem told us to go home.” Lizzie says. “Sausage and Fwip are up to no good, apparently.” 

“Pixl said that there was an emergency at your empire?”

“I lied.” Pixl says. “Don’t look at me like that, you wouldn’t have come otherwise!”

“Look as funny as this is we have to go.” Joel says, pushing Jimmy and Pixl slightly.

The group takes off, flying into the sky. Guilt eats at Jimmy the further they fly away, and he turns back to look at the hall. Did anyone warn Scott that Sausage and Fwip were up to something?

He broke his promise to Scott.

----

“You look cute in the bunker.” The shadow says, sitting on the roof. Jimmy can just barely see out of it, and he knows that his husband wouldn’t be able to see at all.

“Shouldn’t you be preparing for battle?” Jimmy asks. “You don’t want to die.”

“I’m on my green life. I’m fine.” His husband says. “You’re the one we’ve got to worry about. Burning Dogwarts banner, really poppy?”

“I don’t want to see you sacrificed on any altar, petal.” Jimmy responds easily. “I’ll be fine, the bunker is safe and there’s an emergency exit.”

“Promise me you’ll come home.” His husband asks, standing up. 

“For you? Of course.” Jimmy responds. “In sickness and health. You’ll always have me by your side.”

Jimmy watches as the shadow people fight. It’s dreamlike, unreal to him. Swords clash and fires spread across a desert stained in blood. The dogwarts banner flies and burns and his allies are so outnumber it won’t ever be fair.

And a scream tears from his throat as his husband is shot.

His body dissipates, he’s not dead. Not permanently, but something is wrong. This world mustn’t have respawn, not the infinite respawn that it’s supposed to. Green life. First life. 

The love of his life is dead. He will come back, but he’s dead now.

“We want that banner!” A man yells, an enemy. There isn’t any winning this. He needs to get to him, to his husband, to his petal.

He’s shot through the throat on the ladder to the escape route.

Jimmy's screams echo through his empire. Not for the first time does he long for the embrace of someone who isn't even real

#in my dreams (will you remember me?) #imd(wyrm) #flower husbands #empires smp fic