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elliesbelle · 10 months

Text

nobody compares to you

chapter 8

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, lesbian flirtationship?, mentions of kissing, mentions of a weapon (it's just ellie's switchblade), descriptions of injuries and bruising, abby is hot and cocky (duh), minors do not interact

word count: 4k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

You’d spent the last few days texting back and forth with Abby. She hadn’t changed much since your freshman year, still confident and charismatic and charming as always.

It was nice, taking a step outside of your comfort zone. It had been a while since you’d regularly socialized with someone other than your usual group of friends. The older you got, it seemed harder to feel comfortable getting close to new people.

But Abby made it easy, keeping things casual and light. She’d ask about your day, talk about hers, and inquire what you were up to. She’d flirt every now and again, and you’d cautiously flirt right back, but she never pushed much further than that.

You hadn’t told anyone yet about reconnecting with Abby. The girls from the Wilson Crew would no doubt be incredibly supportive, having partly seen you going through some of the disastrous aftermath with Ellie. But as loving and encouraging as they were, having six girls simultaneously asking you questions and being loud & abrasive about your love/sex life was too overwhelming a thought.

You considered disclosing your secret to Dina. But though you loved her deeply and she was the closest thing you’ve ever had to a sister, Dina was just a tad bit judgy. She wouldn’t say anything, but after a few years of knowing her and her mannerisms, you’d recognized her pursed lips and her one raised eyebrow as her judgy face. And right now, the last thing you needed was to be evaluated when you’re trying to break from behind the walls you’ve built the past couple of years.

After musing over it for a while, you kick yourself for not realizing right away who it was that you could confide in.

Jesse.

Jesse was an easygoing person, effortless to chat with and always cracking jokes. But when it came down to it, he cared about you and knew how to listen, judgment-free. You used to have long talks with him back in freshman year, separate from Dina and Ellie, while you watched old movies or played video games together. After Rafael died, he made sure constantly that you stayed stable and took care of yourself. He’s never failed to be a great friend to you.

Thursday morning, you make the decision to text Jesse as you get ready to leave for your first morning class.

You let out an audible “uhhh” as you remember that Jesse shared an apartment with Ellie. Jesse seems to suddenly remember as well a few seconds later.

You chuckle as you read Jesse’s last text before putting your phone in your pocket and walking out the front door of your apartment.

“So, you free tomorrow night?” Abby asks.

“Mm, that depends.”

“On?”

“On why you’re asking.” You reply cheekily.

Abby chuckles.

You were making your way to your Race and Sexuality in Popular Culture class and Abby, who supposedly had some time to kill, was walking you over.

“Oh, just curious.” Abby says.

“Uh-huh, just curious.” You reply, rolling your eyes playfully.

You stroll down the brick path holding a large textbook to your chest that you couldn’t stuff into your backpack with the rest of your things. Abby’d offered to carry it for you, but you insisted that you were a “strong and independent woman who didn’t need anyone to carry their books for them,” to which Abby laughed.

“Oh, I’m just fucking around,” Abby continues. “Wanted to see if you wanted to maybe come to this bar with me and my friends. It’s pretty close by.”

“Wow, getting drunk? On a weekday, Miss Anderson?” You joke.

“Friday night counts as a weekend, you weirdo.” Abby chuckles.

“Which bar is it?”

“The Bow and Arrow on Waverly Street.”

You purse your lips at this.

The Bow and Arrow was a lesbian bar that was near the university’s campus. It was a pretty small place with a nice set-up: friendly and welcoming bartenders, TVs that played a variety of movies or that were connected to old consoles for patrons to play retro games on, and a spacious dance floor on the rooftop.

Last year when you were still freshly heartbroken, you’d gone to the Bow and Arrow with a few friends from the Wilson Crew. Somehow, you ended up making out with a random girl in a dark corner who’d been eyeing you all evening. But after they’d asked if you wanted to go home with them, you chickened out and muttered a quick apology before rejoining your friends.

Before then, you’d gone a few times during your freshman year. But after one fateful December night that involved a random stranger, the dance floor, and Ellie, you didn’t frequent it much afterwards.

Abby doesn’t notice your hesitation, which allows you a second to come up with a calculated response.

“Do you mind if I think about it? Tomorrow’s kind of a long day for me. Might be too exhausted after all my classes.” You say.

“Sure, that’s totally fine.” Abby replies. “No pressure at all. If you wanna have a chill night, you could also come over and we can watch a movie or something instead.”

You smile at her thoughtfulness.

“You’re sweet,” You say. “But it’s okay, don’t change your plans ‘cause of me. You should go anyway and have fun with your friends.”

“Still trying to avoid hanging out alone with me, huh?” Abby jokes.

You roll your eyes and smile.

“Yes, that’s exactly why I’m letting you walk me to class today.” You reply sarcastically. “Definitely trying to avoid being around you right now, Anderson.”

“Oh, you’re ‘letting me’ walk you to class, are you?”

“Yup,” You say. “Now leave me, I no longer require your services, Miss Anderson.” You joke, gesturing for her to leave the opposite direction.

“Bossy.” Abby chuckles but continues to walk alongside you.

It’s a slightly chillier day today as October begins to slowly approach November. You’d opted for an oversized sweater that used to belong to your cousin Rafael (it had his alma mater stitched onto the front and your uncle had gifted it to you sometime after his passing), a beanie, and a pair of thick leggings. When you’d met up with Abby, you pretended not to notice her eyeing your ass in your leggings for half a second when she first spotted you.

“Alright,” Abby continues. “How about tonight? You busy?”

“Can’t tonight, sorry.” You say. “Meeting up with a friend.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, just having dinner with my friend Jesse.”

“Oh, Jesse Chang, right?”

You blink at Abby’s recognition.

“Yeah, you know him?”

“Just seen him around and all.” Abby explains. “He’s at the gym sometimes when I’m there. He lives with that friend of yours, Ellie, right? They’re both there together a lot.”

Your face drops at the mention of Ellie, but Abby has her eyes straight ahead and doesn’t catch it.

“Oh, and I see him sometimes playing guitar on the quad.” Abby continues. “He’s pretty good.”

You quickly compose yourself.

“Y-yeah. He’s known to play since he was a kid. A, uh, a family friend taught him growing up.” You say.

You feel a pang in your heart. Joel taught Jesse how to play the guitar when he was younger. Jesse and Ellie.

That summer that you’d spent in Jackson, Ellie’d told Joel during a Miller/Williams dinner night about how you were musically inclined. You’d felt embarrassed but you remember thinking that it was sweet how excited he got. Joel then proceeded to gush all about how he taught Ellie and Jesse how to play the guitar when they were just teenagers.

Jesse’d already known how to play piano from lessons he’d been taking and was curious to branch out (Ellie made a comment that he just wanted to learn because playing guitar looked so much cooler to girls). According to Joel, he had been a good, attentive student. When Ellie found out Joel was teaching Jesse, she competitively insisted on being taught too.

You remember chuckling when Joel’d told you how much of an impatient and temperamental student Ellie turned out to be. She’d easily get frustrated when she forgot a chord and curse herself out when her fingers would slip to play discordantly. But along with her hotheadedness came passion, and Ellie ended up teaching herself quickly into mastering the instrument anyway.

Something inside ached when the memories of Jesse and Ellie casually strumming on their guitars flooded back. You’d watched in admiration as they fucked around and even occasionally wrote songs together. Sometimes you’d sing along to whatever they’d be playing, and they would joke about how they should start a band (to which you’d tease that Ellie didn’t play nice with others to handle being in an organized group).

“That’s nice.” Abby says, interrupting your trance. “You’re pretty close to him?”

“Oh yeah,” You reply. “I’d say he’s one of my closest friends here.”

You quickly feel guilty saying that out loud, knowing that you’d pulled away from both him and Dina the past year.

“That’s pretty sweet,” Abby smiles. “He seems like a really chill guy.”

“He’s the best.” You say, smiling back.

“Well, I won’t get in the way of some bestie bonding then,” Abby says. “But at least consider coming out with us tomorrow night?”

You’re approaching the building of your next class now with just a couple of minutes to spare. You grip your textbook to your chest tightly, almost like it's a source of stress relief. Going out and actually being in public with Abby was a nerve-wracking concept. But you don’t want to disappoint her either.

“I will,” You say. “I promise.”

“Good.” Abby smiles.

“Now, go and get out of here,” You tell her. “You’re gonna be late for your next class.”

“Why are you always so eager to get rid of me?” Abby teases.

You roll your eyes, amused.

“You’re just so sickenly nice to me that I can’t stand to be around you.”

“Get used to it then.” Abby replies.

“Mm,” You muse. “We’ll see.”

Abby chuckles.

“Alright, well, I’ll text you.” She says, waving as she walks off. “See you, pretty girl.”

You feel blood rushing to your cheeks at this flirty comment as you wave her off. Your grip on your textbook loosens before you turn and proceed into the building.

“Another strawberry milkshake? Really?” You ask as the server walks away.

“What?! I’m having a craving!”

You chuckle before taking a sip of your water.

Ever the responsible and reliable friend, Jesse was ten minutes early to the diner for your meet-up. He’d pulled you into one of his classic bear hugs when you came in, and your heart jolted and your eyes teared up. You’ve really missed being around him.

“So, how’ve you been, kid?” He asks, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms.

“Mm, short or long answer?”

“Long,” He smiles. “I wanna know everything.”

You return his smile uncertainly.

“Don’t really know how to start, Jess.”

“How ‘bout telling me how classes have been going for you?”

You go on for a while about how you’d been handling your schoolwork, Jesse occasionally chiming in about his own classes. He laughed at your anecdotes and asked all the right questions at all the right times. Your orders were placed in front of you as you were complaining about your Women in Classical Antiquity professor who you swore has a vendetta against you.

“Then she looks at me like I’m crazy!” You complain before stuffing your face with a slice of chocolate chip pancake.

“Yeah, a buddy of mine had her last year, and apparently half the shit she was teaching made no sense.” Jesse replies, licking whipped cream off the top of his milkshake.

“It doesn’t!” You exclaim. “Like, I’m sorry that I corrected you in front of the rest of your students, but like? Do your job right the first time then, bitch!”

Jesse guffaws as you pour more maple syrup over your pancakes.

“Dude, she’s gonna fail you for sure if you keep it up.”

“Fail me for knowing more about Greek mythology than she does,” You grumble. “Get me up on that podium, and we’ll all learn something for a change.”

You continue your tirade for a couple of minutes until the conversation shifts from your classes to your friends.

“It’s so cute that they’ve been together since freshman year,” You say, discussing your friends Tara and Astrid who were celebrating their two-year anniversary in a couple of months. “Although I guess to you and D, two years is nothing.”

“Hey, still an impressive feat. And I definitely agree that they’re real cute together.” Jesse replies.

“Nice to know love is real after all.” You joke.

Jesse smiles at this but then suddenly looks thoughtful before speaking.

“How about you, dude?”

“What about me?” You ask, finishing off the last of your pancakes and attacking your side of grits.

“How’s your love life been going?”

You pause. This is exactly why you’d invited Jesse out, to confide in him. And yet somehow, you feel your mouth go dry and your heartbeat rapidly increase.

Jesse notices your hesitation and puts his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his hands.

“We don’t have to talk about it, bud. But I’m here if you need someone. Judgment-free zone.”

You give him a soft smile. Jesse was so perceptive sometimes.

“Well, umm,” You start. “I’m sort of… seeing someone? Or trying to see someone, I guess. Not sure what to call it yet.”

“Oh, yeah? What does ‘trying’ to see someone mean exactly?”

“It means…” You sigh. “…it means I don’t really know what I’m doing or what’s going on or if I want to go further.”

Jesse chuckles.

“Well, what do you want?” He asks.

“I’m not really sure,” You reply honestly. “I guess, I’m a little tired of feeling lonely, and she’s so nice to me. She makes me feel good about myself. I don’t know. I just haven’t actually dated anyone in such a long time.”

“That’s okay. It’s been a rough couple of years for you. I don’t blame you at all.” Jesse says.

You look at him sadly before popping a spoonful of grits into your mouth.

“Well, I don’t think you should completely force yourself into something you’re unsure about,” Jesse says after taking a sip from his milkshake. “But I also think that you deserve to be happy. And unfortunately, that means putting yourself out there.”

You scowl at his sage advice.

“Do I have to?”

“Sorry, kid.” Jesse chuckles and you grimace.

“I just want to see you be yourself again,” Jesse continues. “Whether that’s because you start going out with someone new or because you just leave your apartment more often, it doesn’t matter. Do you think this girl could be good for you?”

You contemplate his question seriously for a few moments.

“Maybe?” You reply, unsure. “She could be. I don’t know.”

“Well, you don’t have to know now,” Jesse says. “Just do what makes you happy, okay? That’s really all I want.”

You feel something warm growing instantaneously in your chest. Gratitude is too small of a word for what you felt towards Jesse, and you make a note to yourself to start hanging out with him more.

“Thanks, Jess. You really are the best.” You say.

“Hey, that almost rhymed.” He jokes.

“Oh my god,” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “You’re so annoying.”

“You’re a poet and you don’t even know it!” He cackles.

You take one of your used, syrup-y paper napkins, ball it up, and toss it at his face. He catches it easily, chortling to himself.

“God, you’re a fucking dork!” You say.

“Don’t be a hater!” He says, holding his hands up defensively.

You giggle.

“I missed you, Jess.” You say.

“Missed you too, kid,” Jesse replies, eyes softening. “You’ve got to come over sometime. I haven’t beaten your ass at Smash in forever!”

You give him a hesitant smile, which he notices.

“Just come over when she’s not there.” He says, accurately assuming the reason behind your reluctance.

“Dude, I don’t know…”

“We’ll do it sometime when she’s not home. It’ll be fine, I promise.” Jesse reassures. “Plus, we haven’t had a jam sesh in forever. I miss my jamming partner.”

You smile, remembering the times when Jesse would convince you to teach him something new on his guitar or have you sing along to a song he’d been learning. He almost roped you into performing at an open mic with him back in freshman year, but you ended up chickening out.

“Don’t you have Ellie for that?” You ask timidly. You find that her name hurts to say out loud.

“She judges me too much for my exquisite and refined music taste,” Jesse complains. “She nearly threw her knife at me for trying to get her to duet a Taylor Swift song with me.”

You laugh, despite yourself.

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get.” You tease.

“Hey! This is a judgment-free zone. No judging my Swiftie habits.”

You roll your eyes playfully.

“Hey, by the way,” Jesse suddenly says. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“What?”

“The girl that you’re ‘trying’ to see or whatever.”

“Oh. Right.” You say, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s umm… Abby Anderson.”

You look up to see Jesse with an expression on his face that you don’t fully recognize. His eyebrows are furrowed and it looks as if he was trying to connect the dots about something you weren’t privy to. After several moments, you see what seems like a sudden realization reach his eyes.

“Oh shit, umm.” He starts. “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

“What is it, Jesse?” You ask skeptically.

“No, nothing. Just processing.” He replies unconvincingly.

“Jesse,” You press. “What is it?”

“Seriously, it’s nothing.”

“Dude, come on. Don’t bullshit me.” You assert. Jesse sighs.

“That just…That just explains a couple of things, that’s all.”

“What things?”

“I—” Jesse starts but his eyes suddenly wander away from you and towards the front door of the diner. “Oh, fuck.”

You follow the direction of his gaze. You feel your throat close up and your stomach lurch as you recognize the figures of Dina and Ellie entering the restaurant. The instinct you’d developed the past year to suddenly look elsewhere whenever Ellie entered the room vanished completely when your eyes fell on her face.

Ellie was sporting a black eye with a dark gash right underneath. The bruising didn’t look fresh, but you can easily tell it happened recently. Your eyes trail down and see that her right hand is also bandaged.

“Shit.” You hear Jesse mumble, breaking you out of your wildly unravelling thoughts. You turn to face him.

“I’m so sorry, man. I had no idea that they were gonna pass by—” Jesse immediately starts to apologize.

“I-it’s okay, Jess.” You stutter. “I just—”

You fall silent as you glance back towards the pair, your eyes inadvertently meeting Ellie’s ocean green ones. Your faces make the same panicked expression before you both break eye contact to hiss at your respective friends.

“You didn’t tell Dina where we were meeting?” You whisper fervently.

“I told her that we were gonna hang out, but I completely forgot to mention where.” He says apologetically.

“Jesse…” You whine.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, bud. Do you, uh, want me to go over there and—” His sentence is cut short as Dina approaches your table.

“Hi, babe.” She says, directed at Jesse. “So, what the fuck?”

“Why are you here?” You and Jesse demand simultaneously.

“We ordered takeout and we came to pick it up so we didn’t have to pay delivery fees.” Dina explains. “Jess, why didn’t you tell me—”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think you were coming out with El!” He says defensively.

“Fucking hell,” Dina says before turning to you. “I’m sorry, honey. Are you okay?”

“I, umm,” You start, your eyes unwittingly wandering back to Ellie. She was standing awkwardly by the host’s podium, bouncing back and forth between her feet and twiddling her fingers. She seems determined to look at nothing else but at her Chuck Taylor sneakers. You shift your gaze back to Dina.

“Y-yeah. I’m okay.” You say weakly.

She smiles sympathetically, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Is…” You begin timidly. “Is that a black eye? O-on Ellie?”

Dina and Jesse share a worried look.

“Did you tell her anything?” She asks him.

“No, not yet.” He replies.

Dina sighs.

“Tell me what?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing.

Dina’s hand squeezes your shoulder lightly.

“It’s—” She begins. “It’s kind of… private.”

“Oh” is all you say in response. You feel a little rebuffed and excluded, but you decide not to press further. You knew it wasn’t your business. And after all, you were no longer a foursome.

“We’re just gonna grab our food and go, okay?” Dina assures. “I’ll text you later, hun.” She says to you.

“O-okay…” You reply meekly and watch as Dina makes her way back to Ellie.

Neither you nor Jesse says anything. From your peripheral vision, you see Dina and Ellie seemingly argue about something for a few moments before the hostess arrives with a plastic bag of food, which Ellie grabs with her good hand. They leave without another glance back at you.

“Jess, I’m…” You say after a second or two of silence. “I’m gonna go use the bathroom real quick, okay?”

Jesse responds with a simple “okay.” His eyes meet yours with an acknowledgement that you merely need a second to yourself. You nod, silently thanking him for his understanding before making your way to the diner’s bathrooms.

As you shut the door behind you, you lean against it and weep silently.

Why? Why am I here again?

You realize that it hasn’t even been a week since you were in this same, empty diner bathroom, breaking down and crying tears of frustration.

Am I not allowed to catch a fucking break?

You spend a couple of minutes breathing deeply the way your old therapist taught you before you can wrench yourself off from the door and look at yourself in the mirror.

Please, just… please.

Your right hand unwittingly comes up to touch your face, right where Ellie’s injury had been on hers.

What the hell did she get herself into?

Ellie wasn’t inherently a violent person, but she didn’t shy away from it either. She was reckless and impulsive, something about her that you used to love but also dread. A memory starts forming in your head, of you and Ellie and that December night at the Bow and Arrow.

Your reminiscence is suddenly interrupted by your phone buzzing in your pocket. You take it out to see you got a text.

Abby?

You unlock your phone, giggling when you read her message.

She really is so nice to me.

Your heart starts to feel warm before it stops completely upon reading her follow-up texts.

O-oh. Oh, okay.

You gulp and feel a chill going down your spine. You almost feel the need to look around and make sure nobody is watching you, only to remember you were alone in the bathroom. Your phone buzzes with another message.

You chuckle nervously at Abby’s last message.

She’s bold, I’ll give her that.

You chew on your lip for a few moments while one hand grips your phone tightly and the other taps nervously on the bathroom counter. You take a deep breath.

Fuck it.

Remembering Jesse’s advice, you make the decision to put yourself out there again.

Hastily putting your phone back in your pocket before Abby can text back, you feel every nerve in your body tremble. Your heart hammers rapidly in your chest, but you stare at your reflection resolutely.

Abby likes you, okay? I think. And I think I can like her too. This is a chance to be part of something healthy for once.

You stand in front of the mirror, conducting your breathing exercises and attempting to convince yourself.

Back at your table while waiting for your return, Jesse is hastily questioning Dina through text if Abby Anderson was the reason that Frat Guy Adam was nearly beaten to a bloody pulp by the hands of Ellie.

author’s notes:

omg a million years later and i finally update? gasp. now everyone clap for belle (pls clap)

tbh i was too lazy to do all the phone texting parts with the format i did in the past chapters cause i hate having to mess around with the html format for the customized grey text, so my lazy ass just did screenshots of the texts instead, sorry slfkjsddsf

if you recognize the lesbian bar that i loosely based the bow and arrow on, no you didn’t

i’ve been replaying tlou2 lately and i know many of y’all headcanon jesse as a himbo which i honestly love, i’m obsessed with himbo!jesse, but i personally didn’t wanna ignore the fact that jesse’s actually a very intelligent and level-headed guy who’s extremely organized and who’s a natural leader and etc. let’s acknowledge this jesse more!

also jesse’s last name is merely inspired by the last name of the actor who plays him (stephen chang)

also jesse is a musician because i say so. i’m also hcing him as having taken piano lessons as a kid cause which of us asian kids weren’t forced to take piano lessons or whatever when we were kids, let’s be real (i took them briefly but they were boring and i’d already known and i also mostly taught myself anyway)

the part about reader's professor not knowing how to teach her own class is just me being still bitter over a mythology professor who kept trying to fail me cause i knew more about greek mythology than she did (she couldn't cause i was literally correct all the time). the bitch even tried to accuse me of plagiarism! i'm still mad.

i added in the part about ellie not inherently being a violent person as a passive-aggressive reference to craig mazin, the creator of the hbo show, who says that ellie has a violent heart when she does NOT, he does not understand our girl at all

the image i used as abby's selfie is of the body model that they based abby's character on, colleen fotsch!

wow i added waaaay too much in the author’s notes lol sorry belle has adhd everyone

anyway thank you for bearing with me as i take time uploading. replies and reblogs and messages are fuel to new chapters, so pretty please! indulge me!

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriesxinthespring, @amitycat, @thefishymissy, @yevheniiaaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam, @elliesnumber1gf, @digit4lslut, @tayyyystan, @emothurman, @livvy-2000, @abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky, @qtefolleunpez, @libr4sonsa, @17luv, @robinismywifee, @villainousbear, @ashlynnnnnnnn15, @scarlettadore, @vianna99, @g0n3girls, @totheblood, @embermdk, @awyunh, @kenz-ee, @marvelwomen-simp, @eleactric, @simpforellie, @omgidksblog, @anxiouso, @nyrastar, @lillysbigwilly, @hopeless-y, @elliesbabygirl, @alexpritch, @thestarsanctuary, @aethelwyneleigh27

#nobody compares to you series #ellie williams #dealer!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #belle speaks #belle writes

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hopelesslyromanticgay · 10 months

Text

Playing with her hair - Vada Cavell X Reader

Y/N's POV:

"Why are people in horror movies so dumb!" my girlfriend Vada complains, "Like in the real world no one is stupid enough to do ANY of this. Like, no one would even pick up the phone in the first place!"

"Uh huh," I say to the girl sprawled out across my lap and the rest of the couch, not fully paying attention to what she's saying. I'm more focused on counting her freckles. A while ago, the question of how many freckles she had started to interest me and ever since it's been hard to get the idea out of my mind.

68...

69...

70...

"Y/N/N, are you listening to me?" she asks, breaking my trance, "am I rambling again, I'm sorry."

"Don't be! You're cute when you ramble," I reassure her. She looks over at me, a huge smile creeping over her face, her beautiful brown eyes shimmering in the dim light.

"In that case, I'm gonna keep going," she tells me, "what kind of dumbass decides it's a good idea to let their younger than six year old kid go out of the house alone on a rainy day!"

"Bad ones, I guess," I say absentmindedly. We keep on watching the movie we have on, neither of us really focused on it. without even thinking of it, my hands make their way to her hair.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"Messing with your hair," I admit.

"Oh my god, are we acting like a normal couple?" she gasps.

"Do you not like it?"

"No!" she exclaims, "please don't stop."

"Oh my god, can I style it?"

"As long as it's not too fancy," she insists. One of the first things I ever learned about Vada is how much she hates looking fancy. She doesn't like the tight fitting "feminine" clothing, or the way makeup feels on her face. She hates the way her hair gets tightly pulled into an uncomfortable style, and then gelled into place. What's even worse is if she has to do all three of those TOGETHER. So I'm making it a point to keep it fairly informal, but still neat.

I run my fingers through her dark brunette locks, trying to get the various knots out.

"Ow!" that one hurt!" she squeals.

"Sorry, oh my god are you okay?" I apologize, hoping I haven't hurt her too bad.

"I guess," she says sadly.

"Will this make it better?" I ask, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She looks up at me smiling, "so much better." I brush a few strands of hair out of her face before continue styling it. She climbs into my lap, facing away from me so I can better access her hair.

I start parting her hair, so that there's an even amount of it on each side of her face.

"Oh my god Beverly get out of that house!" Vada screams, practically jumping up at the television, "I swear these people are so dumb."

"Vada, baby, you need to sit slightly still for this to look good," I say softly.

"Fine," she pouts, "why is you doing this kind of relaxing?"

"Maybe I just have that effect on you," I suggest.

"No, normally you make me so excited and happy, like a little kid seeing a bunch of candy and a lot of stuffies!"

"Aww, that's cute," I smile, my face getting warm.

"You're the best girlfriend ever," she compliments me, "I don't know how I wound up with someone as beautiful and funny and all around amazing as you."

"Maybe it's because you're the best girlfriend ever," I suggest.

"No you are!"

"No you!" We continue to argue about who's the better girlfriend, eventually realizing that we'd never get the other to agree with our opinion.

I end up sorting her hair into two neat braids, not too fancy, but presentable.

"And voila!" I say, snapping a photo of the brunette to show her how she looks. She turns around quickly to view the photo.

"I look like Wednesday Addams if she had severe PTSD," she laughs, "but seriously, I love it."

"You do look like that!" I cackle, "what a funny coincidence!"

"Thank you, Y/N/N. I love it," she smiles softly, a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

"Sure thing, it was probably more fun for me than it was for you," I giggle.

"Well you can play with my hair anytime," she offers.

"Haha! You're gonna regret making that offer," I tell her.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #i love jenna ortega #vada cavell #vada cavell x y/n #vada cavell x fem! reader #vada cavell x you #cute #the fallout #jenna ortega x you #reader insert #vada cavell x reader #fanfic #drabble #one shot #jenna ortega one shot #vada cavell one shot #jenna ortega x fem!reader

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malebodyexhibit · 1 year

Text

Getting in the Action (a Next Door Boy tale)

'Never meet your heroes' is how that saying goes, but for me it should be, 'never become your hero.'

I first saw my hero on the big screen when I was in fourth grade. He was the coolest thing ever! There was a movie where he was a pilot and pulled off cool stunts in planes. My dad and I idolized him. He was the one who dragged me to the movie. It became his way to get me to do things, like "Tom always eats his vegetables" or "I doubt Tom failed his Math class." And, being the idiot I was, I obeyed.

The movie star’s influence steered my life to places I never thought I'd go. I got into weight lifting, because in all his movies, he always had that shirtless scene to hammer in the point that he was a man's man. That is what men should be. I bought a fitness magazine after I watched that movie where he has sex with his girlfriend and he strutted around his apartment naked. I wanted to be like that (confident in my own skin), so I studied the magazine and used my father's dumbbells. When I reached high school, I had washboard abs and biceps the size of grapefruits.

And sure, I was built like a linebacker, but I didn't enjoy sports. Of course I valued athleticism, but I also wanted to be an actor. I tried out for roles in Drama class and mostly got them for my good looks and body, but I really put in effort. It wasn't until we started rehearsing for Shakespeare's "The Tempest" that I started to appreciate the sounds and art of classical theatre. So in English I found a new joy. My dreams shifted from action movie star to a classical theatre. I really wanted to impress my hero that I was making something of myself for him.

Then the Next Door Boy craze happened. I'm sure you already know what happened. The debauchery and scandals. Yet, when it calmed, the benevolent acts stood out. People who lost out on life got a second chance. And then Tom announced something truly amazing:

"Hello, everyone. So many of you are my fans and have been since I was on the big screens almost half a century ago. No doubt I've gotten old. Seeing my gray hair is always a shock. But many of you suggested that I continue my legacy and through the efforts of Next Door Boy, I can. I won't just accept anyone. I want to only accept the biggest fan of mine. I want to take you with me to the stars in show business. So, fill out the application, send in those photos, and let's make something together."

The news was shocking. I could be him. He could be in me. We could share a future together. So of course I applied. I had my dad shoot the photos of me. He was over the moon. Anything for our hero.

And I was chosen. I couldn't breathe when I heard the news. The rest blurred in a rush of euphoria. I was seated in a chair at Next Door Boy as the agent went over the details. I was to be Tom’s body and I would still exist, but I wouldn't have control over anything; I would ride backseat in my mind. Do you accept?

"Yes," I said. Those were my last words spoken by my mouth by me.

---

"Tell me how much you like it when I do this," Tom whispered as he pulled my shirt over his nipple. He ran his hand over what used to be my stomach.

"Stop, please," I whimpered. I could only communicate in our shared mind. It had been a couple months since the procedure and since then, Tom has been using my body for his sexual gratification. I know he isn't even gay. He just likes tormenting me.

"I don't think so," he taunted. He stuck a finger in his mouth and gave a soft moan. As he pulled it out, a trail of spittle followed. He reached around our back and I felt the push against our tight hole. In a rush, he plunged it in. A sudden ache hit us and he moaned while I screamed, "stop!" He drove it in and out. He buckled over the restroom counter and continued to go knuckles deep. Finally, he pulled out the digit and wiped it on my six pack. "Well, that's enough for now. I don't want to make you too loose. I want this body to last a few years."

He jumped in the shower then got dressed. Around my parents he was a model son. Even though they know he wasn't me, but some middle aged action star, they still treated him like me.

"There's my boy!" My dad said and he stood to hug my body. My body hugged him back and my father beamed at us. He took my face in his hands and said, "have fun out there."

"Don't worry, dad. I will!" Tom said from my mouth. He was beaming his innocent smile. "Hey, mom. I have to fly to a studio today. We're starting on the set of a new movie. Could you pack me lunch?"

"Of course, dear. That sounds fun!" My mother smiled and went to prepare something in the kitchen.

"So how is it being the action hero?" Dad asked. I couldn't tell who he was asking. It seemed my parents believed I was still in control or that it was a mix of both. But no. It was always Tom.

I remember waking up from the procedure and seeing myself, unable to move or speak. I watched as he ran my hands over my arms and chest. I watched him flex in my body.

I felt how aroused he was getting from checking out my body. "God damn, boy," he said, "you're a snack." If it wasn't for health regulations, I'm sure he'd whip out our cock then and jerk off. But instead, he waited for the public restroom in the hallway. Since then, he tortures me by treating my body like a dildo or a fleshlight. It wasn't useful unless it was pounding or being pounded at both ends.

"It's pretty good. Let me tell you about the movie I'm shooting." Tom_ said, "It's about a college student, me, who has to fight off bank robbers and saves the day. It takes place in Vegas."

"That sounds cool," my dad said. "Remember, don't drink. You might be an action star, but you're still my son."

The man in my body smiled. "Of course."

We left the house and walked toward a limo waiting for us at the curb.

"It was a lie," he said now that we were alone.

"What?" I asked.

"There is a movie, but it's not one where the hero wins. He tries fighting the robbers and finds himself facedown in his own piss. He's then stripped and finds out how much loves a dicking and giving head."

"It's a porno?!" I screamed incredulously. "You can't make me do that! That's disgusting and I'm not gay!"

"It doesn't matter if you're gay. I already set up something with a studio. They're wanting a few hundred movies of us, well me in you. They like your body, and I do too, especially when it's a cheap slut for cock." He smiled, flashing the driver a toothy grin. His signature boyish charm displayed on my face.

"You're supposed to make me famous," I cried. The promise of his echoing in my head.

"And I will make you famous. There will be no gay man alive who wouldn't have seen take a couple dicks. I will make you a household name in the porn industry. I will wear out your hole and it so you can't pretend you're a straight virgin."

"Please, stop," I begged, uselessly. I watched as he pulled a beer out from a cooler. He twisted off the cap and chugged the bottle. Since he was in my body, he drank incessantly and ate passionately. He rarely maintained my exercise and I feared my fit body would slip away.

"Why should I? What's the point of working out when I can just get another teen like you desperate for fame? I'll know it's time to leave your body when I can't see my toes and I can't get a good fuck. You can have your body back when that happens." He said as he opened a second bottle of beer. He was already unbuckling his belt to relieve himself of the strain. I cried in the unfeeling void of his mind.

#possession #male mental change #straight to gay #male body exhibit #a next door boy tale #next door boy #male takeover #old to young #body theft

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natalievoncatte · 8 months

Text

She knows I’m coming. She probably heard me six blocks away. Heard my voice, my heartbeat.

Lena walked softly down the hall of Kara’s building, counting the doors, counting how many times she had walked past these old bricks with joy lifting her heart. Game nights and movie nights and sleepovers, all the little things she’d torn apart with her bare hands in petty vengeance for Kara’s betrayal.

She did betray me! She lied, she manipulated, she used me.

Lena reached the door and hesitated.

Used me for what? What did Kara or Supergirl ever ask of me that I wouldn’t have given freely?

In her secret heart, Lena knew that it was what Kara didn’t ask for. The one thing she never wanted. She stood outside the door for a half minute, fingers curled in a loose fist as she fought to find the willpower to do this.

It never came. Kara swung the door in and stood there. She was dressed in a soft, yellow sweater and gray leggings, hair down and barefoot, in her natural state where she was just Kara.

A momentary flicker of concern folded Kara’s brows when Lena’s heart raced explosively. Maybe she really could hear it.

If only she’d listened to it.

Lena dropped her hand to her side. Her carefully prepared speech fell to ash in her mouth and she trembled on the spot, eyes a little too wide as Kara looked at her with a flat expression. Not anger. Not remorse. Not concern.

(not desire)

Just… nothing.

It felt like a thousand years passed when Kara turned around and silently padded back into her loft, stopping by the table. She stood, her back to Lena, arms folded, silent.

But she didn’t close the door.

Lena stepped tentatively inside and swung the door shut behind her. She swallowed hard, trying to wet her throat so she could speak, but nothing worked.

Finally, she managed to begin choking it out.

“I made a terrible mistake.”

Kara said nothing.

“I was hurt. I was so hurt. I let it blind me and lead me down a dark path. I thought I could fix everything. I just wanted to make the hurting stop. All the hurting. Lex is back. He’s taken my research and he’s going to do something terrible with it. I want to help you stop him.”

There was still no reaction. Lena wasn’t sure if she saw Kara’s shoulders move or if it was a figment of her imagination. She supposed it didn’t matter. Kara wasn’t saying anything.

Lena couldn’t hold back the sob that burst out of her. She could see it now, the anger burning inside Kara. The rejection and betrayal. The fury as cold as the crystal walls of her secret fortress.

This was it. Lena did it. She won.

She made Kara hate her.

Lena sagged, almost falling like a puppet with cut strings. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and tried to fight back the tears and failed. They fell freely, cutting hot lines down her cheeks as sobs wracked her body.

She didn’t beg or plead; her silence was not born of stiff-necked Luthor arrogance but of resignation. She couldn’t bear it. If she beseeched Kara for forgiveness and was met only with silence she might die.

Lena turned for the door, half blinded, wishing some hell would swallow her up and bring an end to this misery.

She didn’t make it.

A powerful arm drew around her with sublime care. A hand that could crush titanium rested gently on her shoulder, and she was turned around so delicately, so gently, that she wondered if she’d fainted and this was a dream.

Even with Lena in heels, Kara easily brought Lena’s head to her shoulder and rested her own chin atop hers, taking Lena into a deep, careful embrace. Lena hugged back hard, with all her strength. She hugged Kara as if she meant to climb inside her, as if she could never let go. Kara was still silent.

“Kara?”

Kara took a deep breath, her powerful body shuddering in Lena’s arms.

“I thought I lost you forever.”

Lena shattered again, harder this time. She sobbed against Kara, digging her fingers into Kara’s back. Kara simply stroked her hair and hummed softly into Lena’s scalp.

“I don’t want to let go of you,” Kara whispered.

Kara shifted, looking down at her. Lena drew back, blinking tear-reddened eyes. Kara just stared at her, eyes searching, drinking every detail of her face. With her fingers, she lightly brushed a lock of hair from Lena’s cheek and smiled.

Kara was radiant. It was like the sun had finally emerged from behind dark clouds and Lena stood full in its warmth again. She hasn’t seen that smile in so long, she could barely believe it had ever been real. The sheer joy in Kara’s eyes was too much to bear.

Lena was barely aware that she’d lifted up on her toes, that she was reaching, back arching, arms around Kara’s waist to steady herself.

The look of absolute shock on Kara’s face paled in comparison to the softness of her lips. Kara stood stone still for a moment and Lena’s heart jumped again as she thought she’d again made a terrible mistake, and started to pull back.

There was nowhere to go. Kara casually lifted Lena from her feet as she kissed her back, effortlessly pulling her into a spinning, joyous hug.

When Kara put her down again, Lena knew she was a mess of red-rimmed eyes and tears with a silly smile on her face. Kara’s eyes were wet, too, and Lena had left a smear of dark lipstick behind.

“Kara,” Lena whispered. “Is this… are we… can we…”

Kara’s shoulders rolled back and she stood to her full height, gently cupping Lena’s chin in her soft hand.

“Lena, I’m Supergirl. I can do anything.”

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imagionationstation · 25 days

Note

*Slams open the door to your inbox very, very loudly*

I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA FOR AN AU

But this one is a little bit deranged.

AU where only Donatello and Karai are raised by Splinter and the rest (Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo) were raised by the Shredder. (Or vice versa idk which would be funnier)

It's stupid, I KNOW— but wdnsixjsks—

Just imagine the lone turtle being raised by the opposite side of the other three, accompanied with just as fierce + overprotective older sister who'd drop kick anyone who ever attempt to claim the title as 'Donatello's older sibling'.

Donnie'd be so confused to suddenly have a group of the same species as him suddenly thrusted into his life after spending years of beliving he's the only one— and oh look they're now claiming him to be their brother, how neat.

Karai is NOT happy because that's HER little brother and they have to pry him out of her cold, dead hands.

Leo and Raph would be, "You're our master's daughter and that's OUR little brother", to which Karai would be, ">:0".

Cue to Mikey and Donnie arguing who is older.

I'm not sure about you, but I am also a sucker for (over)protective Mikey. It's a neat concept, one that hasn't been explored much by the fandom— but arhwidnsidnsi.

I just love the purple genius, okay?

This AU is purely crack and self-indulgent at this point hahah.

-Ellestrade

Donnie didn’t consider himself to be a bad son, per say.

Sensei always had a list of rules to keep him safe. Never go down to the ground floor unless the dojo was closed for the day. Never open the curtains because he might be glimpsed. Never go out into the yard unless he got permission or had one of them with him.

And never, under any circumstances, was he to enter New York City.

Sensei was always very careful when it came to his safety. It’s the whole reason that he found a place outside the city for him to grow up, miles away from people, but close enough to the city that Miwa could visit to terrorize socialize whenever she feels cooped up.

Donnie’s never had that luxury, but now he was fifteen.

Fifteen was practically driving age. Fifteen is old enough to be in a high school and get invited to parties that sounded unsafe and rent adult movies behind parents backs and get to buy things at stores or check out books at the library!

He’s definitely responsible enough to borrow some books on his own.

Fifteen is also the perfect age for sneaking out and breaking rules.

It’s not really his fault. It’s the hormone and teenage ritual stuff. He couldn’t help it, probably. That’s what Miwa always says. Sensei buys it sometimes. He goes easy on her. So when Donnie wakes up to a carpeted floor and a splitting migraine, he knows he’s been caught and he’ll need every reasonable excuse that he can get his hands on.

It’s his birthday, anyway. Sensei can’t be too mad.

There are muffled voices around him as he lifts his head, immediately regretting it when pain spikes from his skull and scatters across his forehead. He clutches at his skull, groaning miserably. He’s never had an all-nighter migraine this intense before.

He supposes that this is what Miwa would call a personal problem as remains on the ground, forcing his eyes open to get a read on the situation. He expects to see his father hovering as Miwa goads him into a punishment because the consequences of his actions was never enough for her.

Somehow, his father usually ends up letting him off the hook instead. A perk of being an extinct species that can never see the light of day, he supposes, is endless sympathy points.

Donnie’s greeted with three shells, four blinding overhead lights, five individual weapons, and six eyes, all balanced out by a truckload of confusion. He stares, blinking sluggishly, as one of the turtles announces, “Well, he’s not dead.”

And just like that, this has officially slotted itself to be the weirdest dream Donnie has ever had.

DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT I HAD TOO-

So anyway, feel free to assume that he’s in pain and kidnapped for any number of reasons because I have about twelve different ideas and they are all equal GREAT for the crack AU atmosphere that is in development in my brain.

I’m just imaging a backstory where Shredder fought the Kraang (cause he was hangry or something, who knows) and the turtles (sitting abandoned in the alley, maybe?) are corrupt with mutagen.

Absolutely dumbfounded but not stupid enough to leave the little freaks of nature behind, he (still human) snatches three of them, accidentally leaving one behind.

Hours/days later, Toddler Miwa hear Donnie crying, barely alive and all alone. Obviously, dad and daughter care for him.

Shredder and Yoshi are still human, but neither is on guard for the other. They both think the other remains in Japan.

Their sons don’t grow up hating each other’s guts. They are both trying to leave their past behind. Yoshi is raising his family. Shredder is growing his empire.

So Donnie didn’t grow up knowing he had other brothers because no one knew they existed. Ergo, I imagine Donnie would be confused at first, but after fifteen years thinking that he’s alone in the universe, he’s eager to learn everything about these three fellow turtle mutants in ninja gear. He’s a bit perturbed about the fact that they keep making excuses to keep him from leaving, but he’s not to concerned about it. He has brothers! How neat is that?

And since it’s a crack AU, it would be absolutely hilarious if Donnie seems like this naive, learned soul, who cannot social in the slightest- but the second that the need calls for it, he knows how to use several different type of weapons and can take all the brother down single-handedly. He had fifteen years of no brotherly distractions and a sister who takes training very seriously. Why wouldn’t he?

It’s why he’s not concerned with technically being held hostage. He’s reasonably certain that he can take them. And he proves it when Karai finds him and tries to take him home, only for the brothers attempt to stop him from leaving.

Of course, he always feels bad about his supremely awesome and instinctive skills. He prefers his studies.

No, but your “pry him out of her cold, dead hands” comment made me think that she’d need a reason to feel threatened. If they bond before she finds him, Donnie will begin looking at his older brothers (yes, even Mikey, who adores being able to feel in charge of someone) like, well, eldest brothers, and Karai will sense the change.

And, obvs, be completely and utterly ticked off by it.

Donnie’s spent his entire life admiring her and everything that she does- how DARE she have to share his attention with these three random strangers that literally kidnapped him?!

And his older brothers will all immediately decide that this lost child is theirs’ for one reason or another. And obviously, the safest thing to do when you find a stray mutant like you is to take it home and give it care. Heck, if it turns out to be your brother, even better!

HAPPY FIFTEENTH BIRTHDAY! YOU BELONG TO A GROUP OF NINJA TURTLES NOW, ADOPTED LIKE A LOST CAT! CONGRATS!

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shedoessoshedoes · 6 months

Text

So Close

Inspired entirely by the movie Enchanted and the 2015 adaptation of Cinderella, I give you *drumroll please* PINING ELRIEL DANCING (yayyyyyyy) hope you all enjoy, and let me know if you do 😘

wc: 1165

tw: none

“Thank you all for your presence here tonight,” Helion announces to the crowd. “It is my privilege to share the joy of my newfound family with you.” He glances over to Lucien and the former Lady of Autumn, now High Lady of Day. “Love truly comes from the strangest of places. In honor of our story, Andromeda and I invite you to dance this final waltz with a partner you did not come with tonight. Those we are bound to are not always those we are meant to be with. Seek out a different kind of love, whether that be a romance or a friendship, as we partake in the dance of the sun.”

Elain doesn’t know what to do with herself. She had come tonight with Lucien, as a favor to Rhys and Feyre (“Please, Elain,” Feyre had begged. “Just to show everyone that you’re trying.”) (Nevermind that Elain did not want to try with Lucien. Nevermind that perhaps Elain loved someone else.), and had spent most of the night on his arm. Helion’s speech had described her story a little too perfectly. She, too, was seen as belonging to a male she did not love. She, too, had found love outside of that binding. She, too, could not act on how she felt. She, too, had spent too much time wondering if perhaps the male she wanted to be hers felt the same way. But nevermind all of that, too. It wasn’t like she was in any position to ask Azriel to dance.

She watches as Rhys bows to Nesta, still in the process of paying his penance for all the years of judgment and hate. Cassian sweeps Feyre off her feet in a twirl, and she tosses her head back and laughs. It’s a typical scene: no one would think to wonder whether silly old Elain would have anyone to dance with. She melts slowly back against the wall, but then–there he is.

Looking every inch the dark, tortured soul he is, Azriel simply inclines his head to her. Elain’s breath catches in her throat. He is so beautiful. She loves him so much. They haven’t spoken since the Solstice. “A dance, Lady Elain?”

Elain can do nothing but nod silently and slip her hand into his as he leads her to the center of the room. Sparks shoot up her arm from where their bodies touch. They settle into position, and the dance begins.

—-

She looks stunning. In a cobalt blue gown, she might as well just declared herself as his, even if she stepped into the room on the arm of Lucien Vanserra. Azriel cannot breathe if he looks at her for too long. But the combination of the dress, and Helion’s speech, and six months of agony have Azriel losing control of himself. Besides, he couldn’t leave her standing alone during the last dance of the ball, could he? He can explain it away to Rhys, can claim that he asked her to dance with the intentions of a brother. Though his thoughts about her are anything but fraternal.

This dance is simple. They both know it by heart. Azriel slides one hand around her waist, pulling her as close as the skirts of her dress will allow (which is not nearly close enough), and suddenly all the world is gone.

They sway back and forth, and then Elain’s wrist comes to rest against his, and fuck, but that one simple touch has him nearly undone. “Elain,” he breathes out, and she takes an unsteady breath. Perhaps, five hundred years of life have required Azriel’s more romantic dreams to die. Perhaps he said goodbye to them far too quickly, because every dream that he ever could have had is here, in front of him, wrapped up in the package that is Elain Archeron.

“They’re all looking at you,” she whispers. “You never dance.” This is true, mostly. The last time he danced was with Nesta in the Hewn City, and while that had been enjoyable, it hadn’t exactly been a choice. And it’s not like the Day Court citizens frequent Velaris’s Starfall celebrations where they could have seen him dance with his family.

“Believe me,” he murmurs back, just loud enough for her to hear. “They’re all looking at you.”

They twirl out for their first promenade, Elain’s hands resting on his arm, and he spins her around before pulling her back into a proper waltzing position–the closest they’ve been so far tonight. The closest they’ve been since Rhys’s godsdamn order. Elain’s heartbeat stutters, and Azriel wants to put his mouth on her pulse. Her entire neck and shoulders are visible in her gown, and it is entirely too distracting.

He twirls her out and around him, and she laughs, and he would crawl over glass to hear that sound again. When he pulls her back in, her back is to his front, his hand covering hers on her hip. She leans back into him just slightly, and its his breath catching this time. When she spins around to face him, he can almost believe that this isn’t pretend. Can almost believe that this stunning female is actually his. The circle they’re clearing for their dance is larger now, other couples stopping to watch them. Az catches sight of Nesta with a small knowing smile on her face.

This time, when he twirls her, he decides to show off, wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her up off the ground. Elain’s smile is so bright it could replace the Day Court sun, and Azriel can see Rhys and Lucien glaring at him from two sides of the ballroom. He doesn’t care. He does it again, lifts her higher, and when Elain comes back down, her lips are far too close to his. He dips her to finish the dance, and the room erupts into applause. Elain looks around, startled, and blushes. Azriel pulls her back upright and whispers quickly into her ear. “I’ve never been so sorry for anything in my life. Let me explain it to you? Later tonight?” Then he’s pulling back before he can second-guess this massive risk he’s taking, and Elain gives him a tiny nod as Lucien returns to his mate’s side.

“Lovely dancing Elain, Shadowsinger,” he says, and Azriel can feel a fight brewing in his bones. So he does nothing but incline his head to Lucien, bow to Elain, and step away. He’s sure he’ll have a shitstorm coming his way from Rhys, but right now, he can’t find it in himself to care. He sends a shadow over to Elain and watches it whisper into her ear. Her eyes tell him she understands.

Later that night, he’s waiting, standing by the window of his room, wings folded in tight, a glass of whisky in his hand. The sound comes right when he thought that it would. Footsteps, and then a single knock. Elain. He takes a breath, whispers a prayer to the Mother. And goes to open the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Let me know what you think!! Comments/feedback/constructive criticism is always welcome. My ask box is open--let me know what you want to read next!

#elriel #azriel #elain archeron #cinderella #enchanted #so close #elriel fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #shadow bat and flower girl #acotar

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sequinsmile-x · 2 months

Text

Movie Night

Emily doesn't remember the last time they watched a film that wasn't their daughter's favourite, so Aaron hatches a plan.

-x-

Hi friends,

This is some nice family fluff for you all on this Friday evening <3 this all came from a conversation with @eobangingwhen, so I'm dedicating this to her.

I promise I will write something more than pure fluff very soon haha

Hope you all enjoy this, and as always let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: vague spoilers for Frozen and Star Wars VI I guess??

Words: 3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

There were moments when she found it hard to believe this was her life.

It was strange to think that only six years ago she was in Paris, convinced she’d never feel safe again. That her penance for her actions which had led to a gravestone with her name carved into it was the loneliness she’d felt there. The fear she would have once believed would never fade a punishment from a God she wasn’t entirely sure she had ever believed in. She wished she could go back and talk to that version of herself, that she could assure her that life would get better than it ever had been before, that she’d end up with a family of her own.

The idea of it always made her smile, because she knew even if it was possible she’d never believe herself anyway, especially when she would reveal her husband was Aaron.

She’d had a crush on him for as long as she could remember, a flipping in her gut whenever he was near that had morphed into something more powerful as time went on. A feeling she knew was love the moment he was missing after Foyet had attacked him. Their timing had never been right, feelings she now knew he’d had for her growing at the same rate as hers that had to be ignored because of circumstance. For a long time, it felt like they’d never get a chance, so she’d convinced herself it would never happen. An attempt to protect herself from any more pain, sure that if she attempted something that wasn’t reciprocated would leave her with a brand on her heart more painful than the one Ian had left on her skin.

It made her grateful for this, made the difficult moments of parenthood and marriage easier to swallow when she reminded herself she could have missed out on him, on them. Her life a quilt made of ordinary moments, memories stitched together and laid over her like a comfort blanket that she relied on in her worst moments, when her monsters snuck out of the shadows and convinced her she would somehow lose all of this.

She smiles as her daughter presses herself in the small space between her and Aaron, the three-year-old insistent on being as close to them as possible at all times. Alice smiles at them both as she rests her head on Aaron’s arm, sinking into his embrace when he wraps his arm around her, his hand coming to rest on his wife’s thigh. He smiles at Emily and winks before he looks at their son, Elliot, curled up on his mother’s chest, his hand tangled in her hair as he tries to fight off sleep. The 18-month-old always wanted to be involved in everything, his focus always on his older siblings, and very often Emily and Aaron had to hoist him up into their arms, lifting him off his feet so he didn’t follow them to the roundabout at the local park and get too involved with the bigger kids rougher games.

“Mommy, can we watch Frozen?” Alice asks, her sweet voice drawing her attention to her and Emily has to suppress a sigh.

Alice loved Frozen. She wanted to watch it all the time, the movie one of the few things that would hold her focus. They’d watched it so often that Emily was sure she could recite it word for word, her disdain for Olaf the snowman enough that she’d planned his death in more than one way.

She never thought she’d loved Aaron more when she quietly admitted that to him one evening, shame dripping from every syllable as she told him just how much she hated their daughter’s favourite character, and his only response was to say he’d done the same thing.

“Sweetie,” Emily says, taking one hand off of Elliot’s back and tucking some of Alice’s hair behind her ear, “Maybe Jack wants to pick the movie for once.”

Alice pouts a little, and frowns at her, but any comment from the little girl is cut off by Jack from Emily’s other side.

“It’s okay, Mom,” he says, smiling at her when she turns to look at him, “I don’t mind if we watch it again.”

She reaches out and ruffles his hair, smiling when he dives out of the way, the pre-teen on the cusp of being constantly embarrassed by his parents.

“Are you sure honey?”

He nods, smiling as his little sister beams at him, and he shrugs as if it’s no big deal, “She loves it.”

Aaron squeezes Alice closer to him. He looks back and forth between Jack who was sitting at the other end of the couch and then at his watch. Jack was endlessly patient with his younger siblings. He loved being a big brother and always went with the flow, but he could see the flash of horror going through his son's eyes as he thinks about spending another evening watching the animated movie.

“How about we watch it now,” Aaron suggests, looking up at Jack, “And Jack can play his game whilst we do,” he smiles when his eldest smiles and nods, already walking over to the Nintendo Switch they’d bought him and turning it into handheld mode, “And then when you go to bed Mommy and I will watch something Jack wants to watch.”

Alice nods enthusiastically and Aaron grabs the remote, well aware the Frozen DVD would already be in the player, and he starts the movie. Alice is enraptured for the start, her eyes fixed on the screen as she sings along.

“I don’t remember the last time we watched a movie that wasn’t made for children,” Aaron eventually says quietly so only Emily can hear, Alice too lost in the movie, as if it was the first time she’d ever seen it, and Jack in his handheld video game to hear their parent’s quiet discussion.

She hums and raises her eyebrow at him, running her fingers through Elliot’s hair, the toddler now fast asleep against her, “I don’t remember the last time we watched a movie that wasn’t Frozen.”

He smiles at his wife and leans in to kiss her cheek, only to be immediately chastised by Alice, who turns to look at him, a glare Emily would say was all him on her face from where she’s sitting between them.

“Daddy - watch Frozen!”

“Yeah, Daddy,” Emily says, winking at him over Alice’s head, a promise for later hiding in the action that makes his stomach swoop, just as enamoured with his wife as he was on their first date. “Watch the movie.”

Time alone was rare these days, even rarer than it always had been and all of a sudden he found himself desperate to just spend time with his wife. To watch a movie that they picked and snuggle on the couch the same way they did when they were first dating and Jack had gone to bed.

He watches the movie but doesn’t pay any attention, his focus instead on planning a date night as soon as possible.

___

Emily sighs to herself as she shakes her head, unable to focus on the paperwork in front of her. It had been a rough night. Elliot had barely slept, his shift from two naps a day to one having an impact it hadn’t had with Alice. He’d been fussy all night, crying out for Mama even when Aaron went in to try to settle him. Eventually, he’d woken up Alice and she’d crawled into their bed and fell asleep in between them.

She blinks blearily, massaging her fingers into her temples as she desperately tries to pay attention to her work, and she smothers a yawn. She smiles tightly at Spencer as they catch each other's gaze over the divider between their desks and then she looks back at the paperwork, determined to get at least some done today.

“Emily, do you wanna-”

Later, she’d blame her exhaustion for how she replies to Specner, her brain automatically taking over her mouth because they’d yet again watched Frozen that morning, the movie on in the background to keep Alice and Elliot happy as she and Aaron desperately sucked down coffee and half-cold oatmeal.

“Honey, Mommy really doesn’t have the energy to build a snowman right now.”

Her eyes go wide as soon as she says it, her brain finally catching up with her surroundings and she groans when the moment of shocked silence is filled with laughter, Derek’s the loudest. She covers her eyes with her hands and curses under her breath.

“I think somebody should go get Mommy a cup of coffee,” Derek says, and she looks up and narrows her eyes at him, her glare doing nothing to stop his smirk.

“That’s actually what I was going to ask,” Spencer asks, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he stands up, “I’ll go get you one.”

“Alice still obsessed with Frozen, huh?” JJ asks, turning to look at them and Emily nods, groaning again as she thinks about it.

“It’s all she ever wants to watch. I never thought it was possible to hate an animated snowman as much as I do,” she narrows her eyes, “I’d melt the son of a bitch if I could.”

JJ chuckles sympathetically, “For Henry it was Cars,” she says, shaking her head as she crosses her arms over her chest, “I actually once dreamt that I cut Lightening McQueen’s break line.”

Emily laughs, any guilt she may have felt for disliking her daughter’s favourite movie as much as she did fading, “You have no idea how much better that makes me feel.”

Derek clears his throat, his smile getting wider as he gets her attention, and he leans back in his chair, his hands on the back of his head, “So, Mommy what are your and Hotch’s evening plans?”

She rolls her eyes and actively ignores the use of the moniker, “The usual.”

Spencer walks back over and places the coffee down on her desk, smiling at her before he returns to his own desk. The smell of it alone is enough to reinvigorate her and she picks it up and immediately takes a sip.

“Thanks, Spence,” she says, smiling gratefully at him, “I appreciate it.”

He shrugs nonchalantly, “No problem.”

“Yeah,” Derek says, “We’ve got to be nice to our Momm-”

“Derek Morgan if you call me Mommy one more time I will make sure you never have kids of your own,” she says, cutting over him. She purposely holds her glare, suppressing her need to laugh, when his eyes go comically wide, clearly very aware that she’s serious.

“Why are you threatening Morgan, sweetheart?” Aaron asks, and she looks up, smiling softly when she sees him standing on the walkway, leaning on the railing above their desks.

She knows he’s tired too for two reasons. Firstly, because he used a nickname for her in the office, a tiny piece of their personal life slipping free, the sharp line between the two parts of their lives slowly getting blurrier. Secondly, he had an Elsa sticker on the lapel of his jacket.

It was something Alice frequently did. She would carefully select a sticker and place it diligently on his jacket, she did the same for Emily too, claiming it would protect them as they fought the bad guys. She knew that usually, Aaron would remove it the second he got to the office and shrugged off his coat. He would place it on a photo frame on his desk, the picture inside of it one of Emily and the kids, a collection of brightly coloured cartoon characters surrounding a photo of his family. A much needed contrast to the usual horror that crossed his desk in their case files, a reminder of all the good there was in the world.

She had a similar collection too, although she placed her stickers on the inside of one of her drawers, safe and protected from any unsub that might be brought through the bullpen, not wanting to give them any access to something they might consider a weakness.

She smiles at her husband and taps her own lapel, “Honey…”

He looks down and clears his throat, pulling the sticker off of his jacket with more tenderness than his hands should be capable of. A smile flashes across his face that she knows he can’t control, and he nods briefly at them all.

“I’d better go put this away,” he says as he turns and walks back into his office.

“You guys are so cute-”

She turns and looks sharply at her friend, “Derek, I swear to God.”

The rest of the day drags by, minutes feeling like hours as her exhaustion slowly returns. When it’s time to go home she immediately jumps up, smiling at her husband as he exits his office exactly on time. He takes her bag from her the moment he makes it to her side, ignoring her playful eye roll.

“Ready to go home, sweetheart?”

She hums, “God yes,” she says, checking her watch and hissing, knowing if they didn’t leave immediately they’d hit traffic. “We have to go get the kids.”

“Actually,” he says, waving goodbye to the team as they step out through the glass doors and towards the elevators, “Jess went to get them. And right now they will all be very excited to have a sleepover at hers.”

She smiles, narrowing her eyes at him as he reaches for her hand, linking their fingers together, “What are you up to Mr Hotchner?”

He winks at her and squeezes her hand again, a silent promise pressed into her skin, “That’s for me to know and you to find out Mrs Hotchner.”

___

He takes her home via their favourite pizza place, refusing to tell her anything else about his plans for the evening as they drive home.

It’s only once they’ve eaten, talking softly over slices of pizza, the house so much quieter than usual it makes her ache a little, that he tells her they are going to watch a movie together just the two of them. They call the kids and talk to them over FaceTime to say goodnight, and Emily can’t help but smile at the sight of all three of them squished together as they fight to get their faces in the frame, each of them desperate to see their parents despite their excitement to be at Jessica’s.

Once they are done speaking to the kids, she smiles widely at Aaron as he tells her to settle on the couch and that he’ll go get them some wine as he clears the pizza boxes, an instruction he signs off with a gentle kiss stamped against her lips. She chuckles when he brings in the wine. He’d served it in plastic Death Star shaped cups they’d got at DisneyWorld the year before. He waggles his brows at her as he hands her one and she laughs again, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips as he settles on the couch next to her.

“I don’t need many guesses to know what film we’re watching,” she says, kissing him again before she pulls back to take a sip of her wine, “You thought of everything.”

He shrugs as if it’s nothing, as if the gentle way he loves her wasn’t the thing that kept her afloat, and he places his cup of wine down on the table, “I just thought it’s been a while since we did this just the two of us.”

She hums and nods, putting her wine down next to his before she snuggles into his side, sighing contently as his warmth immediately starts to leach into her. He reaches for the remote and starts the DVD player and she smiles when she sees the menu for A New Hope already on the screen, and she idly wonders when he got the chance to put the DVD in the player, a small part of her hopeful he’d somehow lost the Frozen one in the process.

“Are you sure you want to watch Star Wars, honey?” She asks, tilting her head to look up at him. She rakes her fingers through his hair, love for him threatening to burst out of her chest, “We could watch something more grown up, who knows when we’ll next have the chance?”

“It’s your favourite movie, Em,” he says simply, stamping his lips against her forehead as he presses play, “I wouldn’t want to watch anything else.”

She shakes her head at him and kisses him, her hand on his cheek to hold him in place as she sighs into his mouth. When she pulls back she rubs her nose briefly against his, unable to stop her smile even if she wanted to, “I love you.”

“I know,” he replies, his voice deadpan and she playfully glares at him. He laughs and leans in to kiss her again, “I love you too,” he says, kissing her once more before the scrolling text appears on the screen, “Now pay attention.”

She chuckles and rests her head on his shoulder, content and relaxed as she snuggles further into him as he lays a blanket over their laps. She wraps both of her arms around one of his and hugs it, safe and happier than she ever thought possible as she sits next to her husband. Snuggled up on their couch in their home, watching a movie she probably knew by heart. It was achingly ordinary, and she would never stop being grateful that this was her life.

He notices she’s quieter than she usually is when they watch this. She’d normally whisper lines half a second before the characters said them or tell him a fact about the behind the scenes, not embarrassed about her self-declared nerdiness around him, but she’s silent. He looks down and chuckles to himself when he sees her eyes drifting closed and he kisses her forehead, shifting her gently so her head is resting on a cushion in his lap. He runs his fingers through her hair, scratching gently at her scalp as he does so, and she hums contentedly.

She’s asleep before Princess Leia is captured.

-x-

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melanieathene · 1 month

Text

Mr. Wonderful

This is a love story.

I'd like to say it was a classic case of love at first sight, but I don't know if that's true.

All I know for certain is that it's a love that was meant to be.

We don't get many quality folk in this dump that calls itself a diner. Truckers who haven't seen a washcloth in days – weeks maybe. Bums who stumble in to get out of the cold, taking up table space long after they've drained the last drop of coffee in their cup. Old folks on a tight budget looking for a cheap meal. Cheaters looking to score, streetwalkers looking to oblige them. Impatient, forlorn, pitiful people. Losers, every one.

He stood out like a sunbeam slicing through a cloudy sky. Clean, well-dressed, and handsome – god, he took my breath away with his movie star good looks. He was way prettier than the models you see in those fancy magazines – the ones I leaf through in the grocery line, but can never afford to buy.

“I'm gonna to marry that man,” I murmured.

Rhonda snapped her gum as she turned her head to follow my gaze. “Him?” She snorted. “Honey, he's out of your league. Married. Or gay. My money is on gay. Look at the long-haired fella he's with. There's something going on between them.”

“I don't care. I want that table. I'll trade you for the party of six.” I hitched my thumb towards table three.

The cackling old biddies sitting there were fussy, but they were surprisingly good tippers. Regulars who liked to meet up after church, or their book club, or whatever. Normally, Rhonda and I butted heads over who got to serve 'em.

“Your loss.” Rhonda shrugged and sauntered away. I saw the good-looking guy shoot a glance at her ample bosom as she walked by.

Gay, my ass.

I popped a couple of buttons on my blouse, the better to display my cleavage. If he liked boobs, mine were an even bigger eyeful than Rhonda's. The rest of the package wasn't bad either.

The green eyes that turned my way as I approached the back-corner booth set me in mind of an emerald I once saw in a store window. Dazzling. No other word for it.

“What can I offer you, gentlemen?” I asked in as sultry a voice as I could muster.

“Well, I don't know,” Mr. Wonderful drawled – and damned if he didn't sound just as good as he looked. “What do you have to offer?” The suggestive smile that accompanied the question set my pulse racing and my cheeks ablaze.

“Dean!” the tall one barked.

Oh-oh. I quickly suppressed a sigh. Jealous boyfriend alert. Abort! Abort!

But it would appear luck was on my side, because the next words out of his mouth were:

“You'll have to excuse my brother. He... He's...” Mr. Tall flung up his hands, as if giving up on trying to explain the unexplainable.

His (hallelujah!) brother grinned unrepentantly.

“I'll have a salad – the house dressing is fine,” Mr. Tall continued, obviously deeming it better for all concerned if he changed the subject. “He'll have the double cheeseburger with fries. And, uh... two coffees, please. Make mine decaf.”

“And pie,” Dean added. His eyes caressed my name tag, before straying over to the curve of my breast. “Apple if you've got it, Sherri with an 'i'. With whipped cream –”

“And a cherry on top?”

“Ahh, a woman after my own heart. Thank you, darlin'.”

I could feel the weight of his stare as I walked away. Who could blame me if I put a little extra wiggle in my walk?

“Not gay,” I whispered as Rhonda and I crossed paths. “With his brother. And he's a first class flirt.”

“Hrmph,” she muttered. “That don't mean nothing. I might bump him from gay to bi, but that's the best I can do for you. My gaydar's never wrong.”

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate Rhonda? She's my best friend and I love her to bits, but she can be an insufferable pain in the ass when she thinks she's right. Which is all the time.

I wasn't going to let her be right this time. Mr. Wonderful – Dean! – was the kind of man I'd been dreaming of for far too many years. I was through with settling for Cracker Jack toys! I wanted a real prize. And there he was... not ten feet away.

A glance over my shoulder at the booth showed Dean frowning as Mr. Tall shoved his laptop towards him. They both seemed pretty engrossed by whatever was on that screen. Real serious, like. So it would appear that I had a little competition after all. Digital competition. Pfftt! I wasn't worried about that. With my looks and bubbly personality, most men easily sway the way I want them to go. I fluffed my hair and unfastened yet another button. Hey, when you're going for the gold, you gotta give it all you've got.

I picked up the tray containing their order and called up my best smile. The megawatt one that best shows off my dimples and pearly whites.

That smile dimmed considerably as I turned to face them.

There was a third person in the booth. Another man. Another looker, with dark, wind-swept hair and heavy five o'clock shadow on his chiseled jaw. Dean had scooched over to make room for Mr. Trench Coat, but they were sitting close. Really close. In fact, they were pressed together from shoulder to hip to knee.

Dean caught my eye as I approached and hissed, “Personal space!”

“My apologies,” Mr. Trench Coat replied in a low rumble that rivalled Dean's for the honour of sexiest voice ever. Though why he was apologizing wasn't clear to me. Dean was the one who hadn't moved over far enough in the first place. The bigger question was where he had come from, though. I hadn't heard the bell ring to announce his arrival. It was a mystery that didn't sit well with me.

“Would you like to place an order, sir?” I said, polite and frosty in the same breath, as I set plates in front of the two brothers.

“No.”

No, thank you. Lovely manners you have, there.

Blue eyes lifted to meet my gaze, staring at me – through me – as if they could see into my very soul.

“No, thank you,” he intoned.

And just like that, I was dismissed. I mattered less to him than the cockroaches in the kitchen.

His eyes turned back to Dean. Dean's gaze fell to his plate. Mr. Tall choked back what could have been a chuckle – or maybe he just swallowed funny.

I beat a hasty retreat. But I wasn't done with table nine yet. Dean was clearly a dessert man. And I had pie as my secret weapon. Homemade pie, too. None of that pasty store-bought stuff most dives like ours serve. I baked it myself twice a week to squeeze a few extra bucks from our skinflint boss, and I wasn't beyond letting that little fact slip when I brought a slice over to Dean. So, take that, Blue Eyes.

Confidence restored, I felt almost generous towards the poor guy. I even brought him a glass of ice water – which he didn't touch. Nor did he thank me for it.

It was a fairly busy night, but I kept glancing over to that corner as I hurried about my tasks. Dean had once again inched closer to Blue Eyes – or maybe Blue Eyes was crowding him? Either way, their knees and elbows were knocking. Mr. Tall noticed this too. Judging from the knowing little smirk he wore, it wasn't the first time he'd seen it happen. But even his eyebrows rose when Blue Eyes casually swiped a fry from Dean's plate, and Dean didn't so much as blink. He'd slapped Mr. Tall's hand when he'd tried that trick not five minutes before, hard, growling something along the lines of, “if you insist on eating rabbit food, don't expect me to share the good stuff.”

Blue Eyes dove in for another fry. And then a third. And then he snagged Dean's coffee and took a tentative sip.

Apparently, that wasn't much to his liking. I had to turn away from the sourpuss face he pulled, just so I didn't laugh out loud. When I turned back, Dean was doctoring his coffee – pouring in creamer and adding tons of sugar – all without taking his eyes off the computer screen or his mind off his ongoing conversation with Mr. Tall. He removed the stir stick from the mug and licked it. Blue Eyes took advantage of his distracted state to grab the coffee and cautiously sample the results. He smiled and took a second, deeper drink. And a fourth fry.

It was with considerably less enthusiasm than I had originally planned that I delivered the pie and declared it was made by yours truly.

Oh, I hovered in the vicinity, ready and eager to reap the rewards of my labour, but I had a sinking feeling that Rhonda – once again – was going to be proven right.

Sure enough, I wasn't the one Dean sought out after the first bite. The look of bliss that crossed his face was all I'd wished for – and more – but it was Blue Eyes he turned to. Blue Eyes on the receiving end of an ecstatic smile. Blue Eyes who obligingly opened his mouth when so prompted, and thus received the second forkful of my pie.

What Blue Eyes thought of it, I'll never know. For at that very moment, the bell that had been faithfully announcing arrivals and departures (except for Blue Eyes', of course) blasted from its place above the door, followed by the door itself. Shattered glass flew in all directions, and the metal frame embedded itself in table five. I heard Rhonda scream, saw her limping for the kitchen with blood seeping from a gash on her left leg. Customers who jumped up, preparing to follow her example and flee, were trampled as a horde of people poured into the diner – fifteen – twenty – maybe more. They looked like a biker gang, all dressed in black leather with dangling chains, all tattoos and piercings and unkempt beards. We've had a lot of bikers pass through. Most of 'em never cause a spot of trouble, though a couple of times we've had rival gangs rumbling in our parking lot. But I'd never, ever before seen black eyes like this lot had. Black. So very black. Like the gates of hell must be...

I'm a little hazy on what happened next. There was a lot of hollering and pushing and crashing. Things flew through the air – tables, chairs, even people.

I slipped in a puddle of what I sincerely hoped was ketchup, and felt myself falling... but, somehow, Dean was there to catch me. He scooped me up in his arms like the hero in one of those stupid romance novels Rhonda likes to read. He carried me through the mêlée, shoved me into the restroom, and told me to lock the door and keep it locked.

He didn't have to tell me twice. I didn't have to see any more to know that whatever was happening out there, it was bad. Really bad.

I just prayed the bathroom door was strong enough to keep it from happening to me.

If there had been a window, I would have climbed out of it and run away.

But there wasn't a window. And I would never have known the end of the story if I had skipped out at the middle.

Two clear voices rang out, rising above the continuous chorus of furious shouts and frantic cries. A sudden wash of light crept under the door, almost blinding me with its intensity. The silence that followed was almost worse than the horrible noise that preceded it.

I'm not ashamed to admit I screamed like a little girl when a quiet knock sounded on the door. I was bawling like one too, I was that scared: snot and mascara smearing my face, breath hitching and heart hammering fit to burst.

“Sherri? Sherri, it's Sam. It's over. It's okay to come out.”

“I don't know you, Sam.” I sniffled and drew closer to the door, but I wasn't about to open it. “Why should I trust you?”

“I'm Dean's brother.”

“Where's Dean?”

“He was injured in the attack. Cas is... uh... patching him up. Don't worry, Dean's in good hands.”

“Is Cas a doctor?”

“No... not exactly. He's... It's hard to explain. Sherri, will you open the door? We have to get you out of here.”

“Dean told me to stay put.”

“Oh, for Christ's sake,” I heard Sam mutter. And then, louder, “Cas! Can you help Dean over here? I need him to convince Sherri that it's safe.”

Slow, shuffling footsteps made their way across the floor. It felt like an eternity before the voice I wanted to hear finally spoke my name.

“Sherri,” he said wearily. “It's Dean. Open the door.”

Blue Eyes was standing there scowling at me when I cracked the door open. His arm was snugly draped around Dean's waist, clearly supporting most of his weight. Dean's arm was slung around Blue Eyes' shoulders, further steading himself. I suppose I should have felt guilty for making Dean come to me in his condition, but I didn't. I flung myself against his chest and hugged him tight. But not too tight, and not for as long as I really wanted to hold him. His quick gasp let me know how much his ribs were hurting him.

“Thank you,” I said, reluctantly stepping back. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“It's what we do. Besides, how could I deprive the world of a five star pie maker like you?” The cocky grin was back and (damn!) it looked good on his face. Even bruised and bleeding, he was one fine looking man.

Blue Eyes' fingers twitched, knotting into the fabric of Dean's shirt. His little finger brushed against bare flesh where the shirt had rucked up. Dean shivered and turned a questioning gaze his way. “Sam will take you home,” he said absentmindedly, as if he'd already forgotten I was still standing there. It was obvious he was trying real hard to fit a puzzle together, as if he'd just found a missing piece and the picture was finally making sense.

Sam ushered me away, his giant hand hovering near my face, ready to shield me from the worst of the carnage, or so I believed at that moment. We were almost to the door when a thought struck me.

“Rhonda!” I exclaimed, suddenly stopping dead in my tracks. “She went into the kitchen. She was hurt.”

“Wait here.” Sam righted a toppled chair and gently but firmly insisted I sit down. I bit my lip as I looked around. Carnage? Where was the carnage? There should have been bodies. Lots of bodies. But there were none, just a strange, dark ash that coated every surface. As if the people had been burned away.

I remembered the blazing light.

Just before it flared, I remembered a voice calling, “Dean! Dean!” Desperation filled the cry. The anguish of a man about to lose all that he held dear. The voice of a blue-eyed man who liked his coffee overly sweet.

And I remembered Dean's voice crying out in reply. One single word: “Cas!” As if the name carried with it a thousand conversations they'd never had – should have had – might now have.

The kitchen door swung on its rusty hinges, and Sam came towards me carrying Rhonda as if she weighed no more than a kitten. She was unconscious, but alive. I felt my heart blossom in relief as I rose from the chair and rested a hand on her arm. Sam led us out the door. Out to the blessed smell of fresh air, where a hint of rain lingered like a promise on the breeze.

I don't know why I turned around for one final look at Mr. Wonderful.

He didn't look back at me.

He and Blue Eyes were too busy staring into each other's eyes.

Slowly, Dean leaned forward. Just as slowly, Blue Eyes tilted his head and leaned in to meet him halfway.

All love stories should end with such a tender, yearning kiss.

And, like I said at the beginning, this is a love story.

It just isn't mine.

Originally posted 2015-03-03. Just thought it might be fun to post some old stories here. :)

#supernatural #spn #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #original character #destiel fanfic

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pollenallergie · 1 year

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Eddisms

The much more aptly named sequel to “Eddie-isms”

As always these hc are miscellaneous and not in any particular order. Enjoy!

best friend!Eddie masterlist

reblogs are most appreciated!! :)

taglist: @gaysludge @heavymetalbabyy @luvrsbian @munsonology @tayhar811 @stolen-in-moonlight

Eddie is so insufferably loud in every single thing he does. It’s honestly a mystery how he managed to sneak up on Chrissy because that man can be heard from miles away. He’s so heavy-footed when he walks that it rattles the trailer a little bit from time to time. Nothing about that man is deft or graceful. <3

He snores and I mean SNORES. He always has, even as a little kid. At first, his snoring scared the crap out of Wayne, but now it’s just sort of become background ambience for his uncle. Wayne almost finds it reassuring, in a way; at least Eddie’s breathing, right? <3

Despite what Dustin says, Eddie has a very short temper. Granted, it takes a lot for him to get truly angry, but it doesn’t take much at all to get him cranky. In fact, Eddie’s just as much of a mean girl as Steve. Though he lacks Harrington’s resting bitch face, he’s absolutely just as bitchy. <3

Eddie’s always been obsessed with cars, but not in the way you might think. He doesn’t really give a shit about the typical sports cars or anything like that, what he finds the most fascinating are the niche, funky-looking cars. Citicars, Firebirds, Scarabs, he loves ‘em all. He’s especially a fan of station wagons and vans, probably because those were the kind of cars your mom always drove. His favorite of all time has to be the 1948 Tasco because it combines his favorite types of cars; weird looking ones and vans. He won’t ever admit it to anyone but you and Wayne, but he also really likes pick-up trucks; specifically the old, somewhat worn ones like Wayne used to have. <3

Eddie definitely had race-car bed sheets growing up. Honestly, he still uses them in the winter because they’re a lot warmer than his usual sheets. <3

He asked Santa for a race-car bed for six years in a row. For his ninth birthday, he finally got one. Though it was a hand-me-down from your older brother, he loved it like it was brand new. <3

As kids, you and Eddie used to “rescue” (kidnap) wild turtles and beg your mom and Wayne to let you keep them. <3

When he was six, Eddie got kicked out of little league baseball for mooning the umpire. </3

Eddie doesn’t use 3-in-1 shampoo, he does something way worse. He uses Irish Spring on every square inch of his body; hair included. His scalp is practically pleading for death at this point. <3

Eddie doesn’t see the point in using lotion, so he simply doesn’t. The most he’ll do is use vaseline on his lips when they get all dry and cracked in the winter. <3

Eddie’s routine is so simplistic that it’s really not much of a routine at all and, yet, it takes him nearly an hour to get ready every morning. Does that at all make sense? No. Nothing about this man makes sense, he’s an enigma, a silly lil enigma. Well, not so much of an enigma… The reason it takes him so long to get ready is because he moves like a sloth in the morning, getting ready in 0.25x speed due to his residual sleepiness. <3

Eddie watched Zardoz and made it his entire personality for like two years. Seriously, he quoted it non-stop for two years straight. <3

Eddie has a thing about toenails. Not feet in general, just toenails. They absolutely disgust him. He gags every time he cuts his own toenails. So, yeah, Eddie’s the kinda man to chew with his mouth open and belch in your face just for shits and gigs, but cower in fear when he’s faced with a human toenail. <3

I know I already said that Eddie cries when he watches emotional movies (The Color Purple, Old Yeller, etc.), but here’s the thing about Eddie… He’ll sob like a baby while watching those movies, sure, but while he’s actively sobbing he’s also making fun of you for doing the exact same thing. He’s like “You’re such a crybaby. *sniffle* It’s not even that sad. *sniffle, sniffle* God, who cries during the happy parts of movies?? *sob*” <3

Eddie used to steal your clothes so much that eventually you just cleared out a drawer in your dresser and filled it with clothes that you were willing to share with him. Of course, your clothes are too big for such a lithe lil stringbean like Eddie, but he still loves wearing them. You don’t mind much, though, because you get to reap the benefit of your comfiest t-shirts and sweatpants smelling like Eddie. <3

In direct response to you making a drawer for him in your dresser, Eddie went out, bought a bunch of comfy clothes in your size from Goodwill, and filled a drawer of his dresser with them, that way you’d both have drawers of shareable clothes at your respective homes. <3

One time Eddie walked into the living room wearing a baby pink t-shirt with some CareBears and a vibrant rainbow printed on the front, and Wayne almost keeled over from laughing so hard. His amusement was doubled when he noticed the matching pastel scrunchie in his nephew’s hair, something Eddie had also “borrowed” from you. <3

Eddie’s weirdly into soap operas, especially Dynasty. The man loves Dynasty. However, he’ll only watch soap operas when he’s high because he thinks it makes for a better viewing experience. <3

Eddie never wears boxers underneath his sweatpants nor under his pajama pants. Why? Because he’s a whore. Because he firmly believes that you should only wear underwear with uncomfy pants (for example, jeans) and that cozy pants do not warrant underwear; it’s just a waste of good, clean boxers to wear them beneath sweatpants and pajama pants. <3

All of Eddie’s shirts are either just a bit too tight or entirely too big for him. This man does not know his real shirt size. <3

Eddie does not wash his feet when he showers. He also rarely washes his arms or legs. He feels that you really only need to wash the “essential” parts when you shower; the essential parts being his armpits and naughty bits. <3

Eddie once got you a purse for your birthday… sort of. Really he just haphazardly sewed one of the straps from his backpack onto an old, cloth sack and painted the words “Miguel Cores” on the front of it. It actually works really well as a reusable grocery bag for all of your nonperishables. <3

Eddie’s right eye gets all twitchy after sleepless nights. The boys always see it and think that he’s pissed off about something, but really the sweet man just needs his rest. <3

Eddie sucks at holding grudges. I’m not kidding, the man is genuinely horrible at holding grudges, mostly because he often forgets about whatever has happened within a few days; his anger vanishing along with the memory of what’s transpired. Case in point, you both had a severe falling out during the summer before your freshman year, which ended up in the two of you being at odds for two whole years. Or, rather, it ended up in you being mad at him for nearly two years. Eddie, however, consistently kept forgetting that you were mad at him during that time. In fact, he would often approach you in the halls of Hawkin’s High so that he could banter with you like he had in middle school, only to be reminded of your steadfast dislike of him by your short responses, refusal to meet his gaze, tense posture, and clipped tone. </3

He chews his gum like a cow munches on grass, just annoyingly loud and with his lips constantly smacking together. <3

Eddie’s fancy, old-fashioned silver lighter -the only good thing he ever got from his shitty old man- also doubles as his preferred fidget toy. The man always needs to have something to do with his hands. <3

He’s a wizard with some sidewalk chalk. It used to drive you crazy as a kid because he would always do these really detailed drawings with the crumbly chalk that your mom got from the dollar store, meanwhile you were always just stuck writing your name or drawing hearts and stick figures. <3

At 10 years old, Eddie invented his own language while cooped up in the back seat of his uncle’s car on an annoyingly long summer road trip to Myrtle Beach. He hasn’t taught the language to anyone, not even to you, but sometimes you’ll hear him mumble things to himself in his strange tongue. You, Wayne, and your mom have picked up on the meanings behind certain words and phrases over the years, simply because he uses them so frequently, but other than that, it’s mostly gibberish to the three of you. <3

Eddie spent a solid two months trying to convince his elementary school crush that he was, in fact, Mick Jagger. He even nailed the Mockney accent from listening to his radio interviews. Unfortunately, they weren’t buying it. <3

Eddie refuses to touch you when/if you’re wearing anything made out of velvet simply because the feeling of velvet makes his skin crawl. So, no hugs, no playful wrestling, and absolutely no cuddles while you’re wearing velvet. <3

In the summer of ‘85, Eddie won a goldfish at one of the carnival games at the local fair and named him Tater Tot, but he knew that he couldn’t afford all the stuff the little guy needed to stay alive, so he gave him away to some little girl that had been trying to win one of her own for nearly an hour. <3

Let’s be real here for a second: Eddie’s not straight. Actually, due to a lack of terminology available to him, Eddie doesn’t really know what he is. He knows that he likes women, he knows that he likes men, and he knows that he likes people who are neither women nor men, but, given that it’s the 80s and he lives in rural Indiana, he’s not really sure if there’s a word for that. Truthfully, he’s not really sure if anyone else in the world even feels the same way that he does. Obviously, there are tons of people out there with the same sexual orientation as him, but, fuck, he doesn’t know that. When he was much, much younger he felt incredibly isolated and insecure about his sexuality, but as he’s grown up he’s become less unsure of himself and more accepting of his sexual orientation. Of course, he still likes to keep a low profile, at least when it comes to his sexuality, because, as I said, it is the 80s and he does, indeed, live in rural Indiana. However, he’s at least become confident enough to come out to his closest friends and family. Hence, the rainbow mug in the Munsons’ famous mug collection. <3

Eddie’s a crafty lil goblin, he loves to craft. Papier-mâché, fuck yeah. Hot glue, hell fuckin’ yeah. In fact, many of the props in the theatre room were crafted by Eddie during his time at Hawkins High. Even after he stopped doing theatre, he still always volunteered to help the drama club set up for their performances and craft their props. <3

“But why did he quit theatre?” one may ask. Well, there was the Great Egg Incident of ‘82, in which a bunch of upperclassmen (mostly jocks) literally threw eggs at the drama club during their spring production of Guys and Dolls. More specifically, their onslaught began right as Eddie began uttering his most iconic line in the show, “Nicely, nicely, thank you,” so Eddie, understandably, took that pretty personally. As a result, he left the drama club at the end of sophomore year and, instead, opted to focus all of his creative energy on the hellfire club. </3

You and Eddie took the same art class senior year and it was honestly one of the only classes he passed that year. Every Friday, you guys had to turn in a weekly sketch for that class and his favorite one that he’d done was of you; he’d drawn it while you were working on homework together at the picnic table near his trailer. At the end of the year, he’d asked the teacher for it back so that he could keep it. <3

Eddie’s a massive worrywart when it comes to the people he loves, that’s especially true when it comes to you. <3

Eddie once risked further social ostracism to help you take the little kids you babysit to Build-A-Bear when Starcourt Mall first opened up. In the end, you rewarded him by making him a stuffed animal of his own, a spotted dog named Ozzy who’s adorned in the most metal (or metal-adjacent) outfit Build-A-Bear had to offer. Perhaps that shouldn’t have been so rewarding for a 19 year old guy, but 1) he’d never really had many toys growing up, at least none quite as nice and soft as Ozzy the Dog, and 2) watching you kiss the little cloth heart before gently stuffing it inside the toy did funny little things to his supposedly cynical heart. He’ll never admit it, but he sleeps with that stuffed dog far more than a guy his age probably should. <3

Although Eddie never makes his own bed, he’ll gladly help you make yours because he knows that fitted sheets are the bane of your existence. <3

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saturnznct · 2 years

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time alone | lhc

➸ request from anon; hiii can i request a haechan fluff where he and his partner (fem, preferrably) leave the kids to their grandparents/members/whoever else for a while so that hc and his partner could just spend some time together? love your works btw!

➸ note; hii anon thank u for waiting so long aha hope u like <3

➸ word count; 1096 words

➸ dalgun; aged 11, kyungah; aged 6, sunhee; aged 2

nct masterlist

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‘This is the greatest idea we’ve ever had.’

You and Donghyuck had just dropped off your three children with Donghyuck’s parents for the night.

Donghyuck’s mother had begged for so long to have her precious grandchildren over for a sleepover, and honestly, now was a great time. You were both so tired, slightly even burnt out from raising your children, who were eleven, six and two years old. You loved them, so much that it hurt, but it was hard to spend real quality time together when at least one child was always holding your attention.

You weren’t even doing anything too interesting like going out for a meal, just staying at home for the evening.

Once you got home, you were immediately on the phone to your local favourite chinese place, ordering all your favourite dishes. You change into your comfy clothes, you tugging on Donghyuck’s giant t-shirt and him wearing those grey sweatpants that drive you crazy.

You take longer to change than him, so when you enter the living room he’s already lounging on the sofa, plain white shirt riding up slightly to reveal his tanned abdomen. Noticing you in the doorway, he turns his head to sleepily look at you.

‘You look so cute,’ he smiles, outstretching his arms, ‘come here.’

You gladly flop down on the sofa next to him, crawling into his lap. His arms wrap around you instantly, almost like its an instinct. Your eyes flutter shut, in tiredness or bliss you’re not sure, and you rest your forehead on his shoulder, allowing him to press kisses to your head.

‘Hyuck, I’m so tired,’ you laugh, ‘and you’re so warm.’

‘You’ve got to wait for our food babe,’ he points out, rubbing circles onto your honestly quite sore back.

‘I might fall asleep before then,’ you murmur, and he laughs, his chest vibrating under you.

‘Please don’t, I wanna spend time with my favourite girl.’

‘Don’t let Kyungah or Sunhee hear you say that,’ you joke, referring to your two daughters.

‘Nah, all three of you are my favourites, but you’re my girl.’

Your food arrives not long later (you thank God for Korea’s insanely quick food delivery service) and the two of you are happily tucking in, your favourite movie playing in the background. Once plates are clear, you finish watching the movie in his arms.

‘What do you want to do now?’ he hums, tanned arms still wrapped firmly around you.

You look up at him, putting on your best puppy-dog eyes.

‘Bath?’

He smirks, kissing you gently, ‘I still have rose petals from Valentine’s day.’

You blush at the memory, ‘and the wine?’

‘In the wine fridge.’

‘I’ll get the wine,’ you practically jump out of his lap.

A few minutes later, you meet him upstairs, the bath is already half-run, Donghyuck sitting shirtless on the edge. He’s lit several candles, the glow only highlighting his beautiful skin.

‘Oh, hey,’ you stop dead in the doorway at the sight of your husband.

‘Hi,’ Donghyuck is still smirking at you and how flustered you are seeing him half naked.

‘I-I got the wine,’ you place it down on the counter.

‘Why so nervous gorgeous?’ he asks, ‘you’ve seen me like this millions of times.’

‘I don’t know… you always make me nervous.’

‘Aww, cutie,’ Donghyuck laughs, pulling you in by the waist and pressing his lips to yours. You stay like that for a few minutes, until the bath has filled and is ready for you. Donghyuck turns the water off.

You clear your throat before you rid yourself of your clothes.

‘Look at you mama,’ he whistles, and you blush furiously again, swatting at him with your hand.

‘What! It’s true,’ he argues, ‘you’re beautiful.’

‘Stop making me embarrassed and just get in the bath.’

Donghyuck does, holding out his arms for you to climb into. The water is just the right temperature, hot but not swelteringly so, and Donghyuck’s chest is as comfortable as ever.

‘It’s so quiet,’ you hum, ‘too quiet.’

‘It’s because there’s no kids in the house,’ Donghyuck laughs, ‘no Dalgun breaking things, no Kyungah begging me for cuddles, no Sunhee having a meltdown.’

‘She is in her terrible twos,’ you point out.

Donghyuck just sighs, kissing your shoulder, ‘God, I love those kids.’

‘Me too.’

‘Thank you for giving them to me,’ he kisses the back of your head.

‘I am enjoying the quiet though.’

Donghyuck laughs, ‘it’s been so long since we’ve done something like this.’

‘We need to send the kids to your parents more often.’

Donghyuck is quiet for a few minutes, humming along to the quiet music you’re playing while he washes your body with shower gel.

‘I hope you know how much I love you,’ he hums, ‘I know we’re always so caught up on the kids and life so I don’t show you that I love you as much as I should. But I do. I love you more than anything in the world. Just as much as before you were even pregnant with Dalgun. You take such amazing care of our babies, and you’ve brought so much joy to all of our lives. We’ve come so far from when we met in that park.’

‘God,’ you laugh and shake your head, ‘that was like fifteen years ago.’

‘We’re getting old, huh?’

‘Don’t remind me… But I love you too. And you’re so good about showing me that you love me. You do so much for me, especially with the kids.’

‘Even beyond the kids. You support me unconditionally. You’ve always been here for me. I don’t want you to think that my love for you revolves completely around the children.’

‘I know you love me,’ you smile, relaxing into him even more as he begins to massage your shoulders gently.

‘Mmmh,’ Donghyuck murmurs, ‘you’re my girl.’

You giggle, ‘tired, Hyuckie?’

‘Kids really took the life out of me today.’

‘I hope you’re not too tired for some mummy/mommy and daddy time.’

Donghyuck’s eyes snap open.

‘I am never too tired for mummy/mommy and daddy time.’

You laugh, turning in his lap to face him and wrap your arms around his neck.

‘I guess we better go have that then.’

‘I agree.’

You squeal as he lifts you out of the bath and into your bedroom.

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dreamersbcll · 7 months

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“I paced around for hours on empty, I jumped at the slightest of sounds”

- whumptober, prompt no. 7

(hey, can you hear me? who’s in control? are you there?)

——————————————————————————

It had been a long time since Sam saw his face.

Though she was twenty-six years old, she still believed in second chances. She believed in foolish ideas that were only tangible as a child. Ideas that grew hope, and hope that always killed.

But she thought it was better. She was supposed to be better. Her stupid psychiatrist said she would be better. Take the medications, exercise, drink water, and stay on a tight regimen. She did all that and more- as Tara was on a similar neurological cocktail, the two were able to make it all work.

It was never enough. Whatever she did wasn’t ever enough. Somehow, the monsters under her bed morphed into the waking nightmare that followed her around, consuming every piece of her.

One year since New York. Well, a little over. They were coming up to the year and a half-mark lately. Yet it didn’t matter.

Billy is back. And she can’t get rid of him.

As everything does, it started small. It was the small glimpses of him in freshly washed plates or hearing his laugh in a crowded room. Then it progressed. She couldn’t brush her teeth in the mirror without seeing him smile at her, and she avoided the stainless steel dishwasher at work, for he was always lurking.

The whispers were the final straw. There wasn’t a moment of peace anymore. Billy was constantly at her ear, talking, begging, pleading. Anything to get her to listen. He begged Sam to let him take over, to let him hold a knife again. He promised that he would help her feel better, that he would scratch that itch that she couldn’t quite get.

The worst part was she agreed with him. She has been feeling a strange itch- something resting under her skin, gnawing at her bones. Alcohol or drugs couldn’t satisfy it. Movie nights, midnight walks, or early morning workouts couldn’t quench it. She knows what it wants. She knows what it needs.

But she won’t let herself kill again. Unless there was a good reason, and she didn’t have one.

Billy had other ideas.

He wanted Sam to hurt people close to her, and she couldn’t handle that. She couldn’t lay her hands on the twins, or Gale, or worst of all, her little love. They were her life, and she could never touch them.

But he wanted more. So she pulled back. She stopped going to movie nights, claiming she had work to do. Every time someone called out, she picked up shifts. She worked days, doubles on most, and nights. Sam began to utilize the spare room, sleeping there while Tara had class. Touches, hugs, kisses, all were pulled back. She knew how Tara felt about it. She saw the crestfallen looks and broken-hearted smiles.

Sam wasn’t going to give in.

Until Tara forced it out of her.

In her defense, Sam was trying to cut onions for dinner but got distracted by his reflection in the stainless steel. He was trying to talk to her, and though she didn’t want to, she couldn’t help but listen. She admittedly watched too long as Tara managed to sneak up on her.

“Sam? What’s going on?” Tara asked, her voice thick with concern.

Dropping the knife, Sam scrambled back, her back pressed against the refrigerator. Tara held her hands up in confusion, her brow furrowing.

Before Tara could speak, Sam was already blabbering in panic. “Get away from me. Get away from me!” she cried, throwing napkins and unopened letters at Tara.

Her sister ducked, her teeth bared in a snarl. “Jesus, Sam! What the fuck is going on?” She got up in Sam’s face, reaching for her big sister’s chin. Her eyes softened as Sam flinched at the action.

Pulling back, Tara clapped her hands together, making Sam jump. “Hey! Look at me. Talk to me! Sam!” she pleaded, waving her hands in Sam’s face.

Shaking her head rapidly, Sam swallowed hard. She looked around, digging her nails in the fridge. She couldn’t see Billy, but he was there. His laughter could be heard down the hallway. “You can’t, you can’t be here. It’s not safe-”

Tara cut her off before she could begin. “-Sam. What are you talking about? You’re the safest thing I know. You’re home, Sam. You’re my home. Now stop tweaking and fucking talk to me!”

Her words hung up in the air, frozen. Sam stopped listening around the second sentence as her world was coming to a halt. He was here. Behind Tara, Billy bent down, picking up the knife. Sauntering right up to Sam, he grinned wide, waving the knife in her face.

She lost. He was here.

“Oh, Tara,” she breathed, tears pricking in her eyes.

Tara’s steely eyes softened, her breathing picking up. Sam knew her little sister could see her cracking open, and she wasn’t sure what to do. Fuck, Sam didn’t know what to do.

“Sammy. What’s wrong?”

Shaking her head, Sam swallowed hard.“He’s back. And he won’t stop talking,” she whispered, watching as he mouthed, let's kill her.

Frowning, Tara followed Sam’s gaze, trying to find the murderer in their kitchen. Little did she know that there were two. “What’s he saying?”

“He wants me to hurt you,” Sam blurted out, wincing at her lack of finesse. She licked her lips, trying to calm her nerves. He still kept whispering and twirling the knife.

Tara’s lower lip wobbled, her big brown eyes shining with tears. “And?” she said, her words barely above a whisper.

Sam just shook her head, shifting her eyes away from her little sister. Tara reached out to grab her hand, but Sam snatched it away before contact could be made. She couldn’t touch her sister. She couldn’t have him know what Tara’s skin felt like. And she couldn’t let him make her feel what Tara’s dead skin would feel like.

Frowning at the action, Tara stepped back. “You’re scaring me, Sam. Please stop. Please talk to me,” she begged, reaching out again for Tara.

Once again, Sam moved away from Tara. Clenching her jaw, Sam breathed out. “I can’t stop his awful energy. I can’t stop him. You have to go.”

Glancing towards the door, Sam swallowed hard. “Maybe I have to go,” she whispered.

“No! No, we will fight him together—you and I. You promised we would take on everything together. You promised me!” Tara forced out, her teeth bared.

Her little sister always tried to look so ferocious, so threshing. But she could never be as scary as the man standing behind her. The man that Sam couldn’t control, the man who, instead, possessed her.

She didn’t know what to do. So she did what she could, be honest.

“I don’t know who’s in control anymore, Tara.”

#scream #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #ao3 author #whumptober2023 #radio silence #can you hear me??#AU: i’ve got blood on my hands

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scryarchives · 8 months

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𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 - 𝐣𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟕

things go better than expected, and jaime has so much more to learn about drea than he realised

masterlist | previous , next !

– pairings: jaime reyes x oc

– warning: fluff, canon divergent, blue beetle movie spoilers

– author’s note: more filler chapter because well... i decided so :) disclaimer: i’m not of Hispanic descent and i have don’t know casual terms spoken, so do correct me if im wrong!

Despite the rough start to the morning, the atmosphere around the two was pleasant while they walked under the sunshine, the wind conveniently breezing through the neighbourhood as it kept them cool on their stroll.

Unfortunately, the silence between them was still present, Jaime still feeling a little on edge. He wondered as to why Drea still wanted to speak to him even after their rough start, and he wondered if she barely considered him friends.

As they walked under the shade of the trees that lined the walkway, he peaked to his left, finding Drea walking alongside him calmly, hands clutched around her purse strap.

“What’d you wanna talk about?” Jaime shrugged, Drea, turning left on the street as he followed behind her.

“I mean, I’d like to talk about it more when we get there, but it’s more just to, I dunno… get to know each other better. Especially since we both aren’t, uhm, completely human.”

Oh.

“Wouldn’t texting have been better than?” He questioned, watching as his neighbour walked off of the trail, curiosity piquing in him.

“I guess,” She turned around while walking, seeing him follow behind. “I mean, I just thought maybe it’d be better to talk face to face, avoid complications.”

With that, she turned left once more, disappearing around the corner. Quickly, the Mexican male hurried his footsteps to not lose sight of the woman, but once he turned the corner, he noticed that together they’d walked quite the distance from the neighbourhood he grew up in.

“What the…” He flinched at the sudden brightness of the sun, the view of an all-too-familiar abandoned office building not too far from him.

“Remember, Mijo,” His father’s warm voice flooded into his mind along with a long-lost memory, the elder warning Jaime’s six-year-old self.

He still felt the way his father gently gripped his upper arm along with the reason his six-year-old form ended up in the building.

He recalled the kids he saw as friends jeering him, calling him a coward for responding in hesitance to the dare they gave him.

He recalled the fear he felt as he tripped and fell somewhere deep within the building, his bleeding knee stinging with furious pain as he cried for help, the pain worsening with each step he took.

He recalled the panic that welled in his throat when he lost his way out, the darkness surrounding him as the sun sunk lower and lower into the horizon, the sealed windows preventing any good light from entering the building.

“It’s extremely dangerous in here. Don’t you ever go near there again, especially when Mama and I aren’t with you.”

Well, fate had a funny way of making fun of him.

“Take in a deep breath, Jaime,” Khaji-Da started. “Your heart rate is increasing by 0.2%.”

With a frown present on his tanned skin, Jaime jogged after his neighbour, Drea already far ahead of him as her hands were placed on the handles of the door’s entrance.

“Hey, uh, Drea,” He called out, staring down at the younger of the two as he held the door open, walking in after her, but stopping once he was two steps in.

“Why exactly are we here?”

Glancing back at him, Jaime continued to hold the front door behind him, letting the sun’s light from behind him into the building, that being their only source of light other than the streaks that crept in through the cracks between the boarded-up windows.

“To talk, don’t worry,” She smiled reassuringly, lifting her hand up to her face, a handful of beads resting on her palm before her face.

Jaime watched as she took a deep breath, puffing air onto the beads as they started to glow, a light growing within them.

Within minutes, the dim glow of the orb sparked into a flare so bright that the duo had to briefly shield their eyes, the beads floating higher and higher into the air, through the holes in the ceiling, revealing more of their surroundings.

“Woah,” Jaime muttered in awe, eyes widened as the once-dark structure was filled with so much light, he would’ve thought that electricity continued to flow within the establishment.

“What are those?” He asked with a curious smile. “That was pretty cool.”

“Only pretty cool?” She chuckled. “It’s one of my best tricks. Besides, don’t you have a scarab that told you everything about me?”

“You mean, you know about the scarab?”

“How else would you be ‘the Blue Beetle’?” She shrugged, the two standing face-to-face. “And how else would you deem me a threat?”

“Right…” Jaime winced. “I’m still really, really sorry about that–”

“No harm, no foul,” She chimed with a calm smile, hopping up the rickety stairs that lead up to the second floor.

Pulling out another bead from her bag, Jaime walked closer to her. And as soon as he was an arm’s length away, she flicked the little orb in his direction.

Quickly, his hands darted to catch the item, palms cupping around the tiny object as he carefully pried his appendages apart, almost as if scared that the orb would burst into light, blinding him.

“It won’t bite,” She joked. “They’re just little beads.”

“But what about–” He juts his thumb out in the direction behind him, Drea catching his drift while he slunk up the stairs behind her.

“Oh, they only react if I ignite my powers on them,” She held her hand out, the male behind her placing the bead back into her palm.

“What are they made of?”

“Just a little element from my Mama’s home planet,” She started, spotting a vine-covered chair.

Instantly, she plucked the plant off the seat, placing it on the ground before pulling another plant-encased chair.

“Speaking of which, I was hoping that maybe you’d want to know more about us. Well, more specifically, my alien mom and I… right?”

Jaime dug his thumb into his palm, seeing the woman across him finally clear the two seats of any dust and dirt, placing them across each other while gesturing for him to sit on one of the chairs as she, herself, sat down in the other.

“I mean, that’s the reason you were prying about me previously, isn’t it?”

Instantly, Jaime felt a small lump of guilt in his throat, recalling his reason and internally blaming Khaji for creating such a messy situation for them both.

“Yeah, totally,” He hummed, sitting in the seat across from his neighbour.

“Great! Then we can start talking,” She grinned. “You might want to take some notes down though, there’s a lot to cover.”

Oh boy.

gif by @rob-pattinson

taglist: @mooncleaver @hoshi4k @mymanjaimereyes @asvterias @tinkerbelle05 @littlekidsteve

< comment/dm me if you’d like to be on the taglist! >

#blue beetle #blue beetle 2023 #jaime reyes x oc #jaime reyes x reader #blue beetle jaime reyes #blue beetle movie #blue beetle slight spoilers #jaime reyes #milagro reyes #bianca reyes #alberto reyes #khaji da #oc #ocs #blue beetle oc #sam writes !

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crashdevlin · 1 year

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Forbidden Fruit 1- Just Helping Out

Author’s Note: This is part one of Forbidden Fruit. It is a high-school set, adopted sister Wincest, non-Supernatural, a/b/o series. This is brand new, never been posted (not even to my patreon). There was an Omegaverse week over on @spnkinkevents and there was a prompt of Heat/Rut which I think this will fit pretty well.

Summary: When John and Mary Winchester adopted Y/n into their family, Dean never imagined he'd grow to think of her as anything other than a nuisance. Imagine his surprise when his sister becomes the single most important person in his life.

Pairing: Dean x Sister!Reader, Michael x Reader

Word count: 3342

Story Warnings: sister wincest, alpha!Dean, alpha!Michael, omega!reader, 18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!, masturbation, phone sex,

~~~

Dean Winchester stepped out of his car and slung his backpack over his shoulder, long bowed legs carrying him toward the last building in town he wanted to be in. His brother followed at a slower pace. His friend, Richie, approached him as soon as he entered the school, looking around pointedly.

"Where's your hot sister this morning?"

Dean rolled his eyes. He was more than tired of his friends trying to get with Y/n. Just like he was tired of reinforcing that she was adopted. "Fuck if I know, man. She was sick or something this morning. Mom told me and Sammy to head out without her."

"Sick, huh? She ain't pregnant, is she?" Richie asked. He always took it to a sexual place.

Dean scoffed. "Be real hard 'less it's the second coming of Christ, man. She's a virgin."

"You sure? 'Cause word around the locker room is-"

"You finish that sentence and I'm gonna rip your fuckin' lungs out. That's my sister and she is not a topic for your locker room bullshit," Dean growled. He knew there was no way the rumors might have substance but the very idea that Y/n let some guy touch her made his alpha show itself.

"No, no, man. Not me! I would never disrespect you and yours like that, but...I mean, Mike...Cas' big brother...he was sayin'..."

All anger flowed out of him. "They went to one movie and I escorted them. Nothing happened. He's a lying piece of shit."

"Maybe...but he's telling everybody that he nailed her so…"

"I'll deal with it."

Dean wasn’t sure how he'd deal with it, but he knew he would. There was no way he would let everyone think his sister was a ho.

"Well, don't hurt Mr. President too much. You don't want to get arrested."

"I'm not gonna hurt him," Dean argued. "Well, I might, but if I say that then it's premeditation and I don't have the 'crime of passion' thing to fall back on." He scoffed as the bell rang through the PA system. "See you in English, Richie."

"She wouldn't want you to fight with him. She likes him," Sam said, walking up to his brother as Richie rushed down the hall.

"She doesn't like liars and she doesn't deserve to have him spreading rumors like that about her."

"Then let her deal with it."

"She's not here today, is she?"

"And you gotta deal with it today?"

Dean turned on his little brother and let out a growl. "The longer he's out here spreading this shit with no pushback and no one defending her, the longer it has to take hold and the more people are gonna believe it. I am not going to let that happen."

Sam sighed, his hair swinging as he shook his head. "When she gets upset and cries about you beating up her boyfriend, I'm not gonna hold back the 'I told you so'."

"He ain't her boyfriend!" Dean called before heading into his homeroom. He threw his body down into his desk and rested his head against his fist.

He never would have thought he would end up so protective of Y/n. He hated that girl when his parents decided to foster her. They put a seven-year-old boy who only ever had a little brother with a brand new six-year-old 'sister', they were naive to not expect some pushback. She was living with them for almost a year before he called her anything other than 'Foster' and he remembered making every single thing a fight even after they decided to adopt her and make her his sister. He was an unbelievable ass to her and that still showed up sometimes.

But despite the genetics, despite the rocky start, Y/n was his sister. Y/n was his little sister and he was not about to let the student council president get away with telling everyone that she gave her virginity up to a piece of shit like him. Fuck Michael Novak.

Four other people mentioned "the rumors" before lunch. By the time he saw the tall green-eyed teen across the cafeteria, Dean was seething. He was laughing with a group of other wealthy, popular seniors and Dean was itching to hit the smile right off his face. At least it wouldn't be an unfair fight. Michael was the same age, same height, same build, and both were alphas. In a lot of ways, Michael Novak was just like Dean Winchester, so much so that people sometimes mistook them for each other in the halls during hotter months when Dean only wore t-shirts instead of his many layers of plaid and leather.

"So tell me, how'd you manage to get some from my sister when I was with you the whole damn night?" Dean asked without preface and definitely without tact as he walked up to the group.

The group collectively blanched before turning to the gruff boy. Michael's blank green eyes found Dean's rage-filled ones. "What are you going on about, Dean?"

"You been tellin' everybody that you had sex with my sister and I'm just wondering exactly how that could have happened when I was with you the whole date. I picked your lame, Abercrombie and Fitch-wearing ass up. I drove you to the theater. I sat next to her in the movie. I drove your lame, Abercrombie and Fitch-wearing ass home. When did you put her ankles behind her ears and make her see God?"

Michael looked caught for a moment, obviously unsure what to say. "You weren't around the whole night," he responded, eventually. "She and I were alone while you went to the anime store in the mall."

Dean nodded, angrily. There was a short gap where he let them out of his sight but… "I was gone for ten minutes. I just needed to grab the new Twilight Princess manga. My baby didn't smell like sex when I got back in and you really think anyone's gonna believe you talked Y/n out of her virginity in the backseat of my car in ten minutes? Also, dude, if you're only giving girls ten minutes of time, you're doing sex wrong. Have you ever had sex?"

Michael obviously took offense to the question, eyes going wide. "More than you, I'm sure, you...white trash, thrift store-shopping, piece of-"

"Well, you're wrong there. I steal my clothes and if you think I'm trash, what do you really think about Y/n?"

"I think she's been trying to get me to knot her for months and she would have been easy if you hadn't been a constant presence during the date!"

"Did you just call my sister 'easy'?! And like hell, she's been tryin' to get your dinky little dick!" Dean's fist clenched and he moved to step closer, but his phone vibrating in his pocket stopped him. He growled as he pulled it out, softening a little at his mom's contact pic on the screen. "Yeah, Mom?"

"Hey, I need you to take Sam over to Bobby's after school. You boys and your father are going to be staying there for a few days."

"Wait, wha--Why? What's goin' on?"

"Because Y/n's becoming a woman and having two alphas in the house when an omega is going through her first heat would make everything harder and Sam is going to want to be with you wherever you are so...meet your dad at Bobby's, we'll see you in a few days, okay?"

"Y-yeah." Dean turned away from Michael and his friends, phone pressed to his ear. His cheeks went hot as he heard Y/n moan in the background. "Is she...she okay?"

"She'll be fine. First one's the worst one. You remember your first rut, how you wanted to fight everyone and went through half a bottle of lotion?"

"Com'on, Mom," he groaned.

Mary laughed. "I'll take care of her. We'll see you when she's on the other side."

"Yes, ma'am. See ya then." He sighed before pushing his phone back into his pocket. "Stop lying about my sister, you dickbag...and lose her number because no way is she going out with you again," Dean called over his shoulder as he walked away. Y/n was under enough stress. She didn't need to come back to school to find out that Dean got in a fist fight with Michael over her.

"You didn't hurt him?" Richie couldn't believe he just witnessed Dean walk away from an opportunity to defend Y/n's honor. "Who was on that call, man?"

"My mom. I'm not gonna…not gonna hurt him. I called him out, his friends know he lied, and I'm never gonna let Y/n go out with him again so…" He shrugged and sat on the table, boots resting on the seat. "He really said she'd'a been easy if I hadn’t been on the date, blockin' him. He obviously doesn't know anything about her."

"You let that slide?! 'Cause your mommy called you?"

"Richie," Dean started, licking his lips. He had a hundred things he wanted to say to his friend, but his mind kept replaying the moan he heard in the background of his conversation with his mother. He adjusted how he was sitting as he started to get hard. "Shut up."

~~~~~~~~~~

"So, we gotta sleep at Bobby's until Y/n's feeling better?" Sam asked from the passenger seat of Dean's Impala.

"Yeah. Dad brought clothes over for us and we're gonna be sleeping on the couches. Dad gets the guest bed, of course."

"How long does an omega stay in heat?"

Dean looked over at Sam for a second before looking back to the road. "Aren't you takin' sex ed? Isn't there a whole section in that book about gender presentation?"

"It's all vague. 'One to five days'. That's not helpful. Come on. You know stuff. Cassie was an omega, right?"

Dean rolled his eyes at the mention of his ex. "Yeah, Cassie was an omega...and her heats lasted three. Mom's last two. So...we'll probably have to stay at Bobby's 'til Saturday."

"Thank you. Was that so hard, jerk?"

"Harder than you think," Dean said, shifting on the bench seat. Just thinking about Y/n in heat gave him a hard on...which was wrong. So wrong. That's his sister.

Bobby's front door opened and Ellen stepped out. "Hey, boys. Jo Beth and I put pillows an' blankets out on the couch and loveseat and y'all can do your homework in the library. Bobby and yer dad'll be back from the body shop at 6 so you got plenty'a time to get that stuff finished before dinner. Fried chicken. Come on in." The Winchesters followed the brunette woman inside. "As always-" she started as soon as Dean walked in.

"'Hands off Jo'. Yes, ma'am," Dean finished for her.

"Good," she said before disappearing into the kitchen.

"Get caught playing doctor once, ten years ago...never let us live it down," Dean grumbled under his breath as he tossed his backpack through the open doorway into the library.

"She'll get over it one day," Jo said, walking up to pick Dean's bag up.

"Not fucking likely. But it doesn't matter, does it?" Dean chuckled as he slid the door closed and sat at Bobby's desk. "Her threats didn't actually stop us."

"Hush yer mouth," Jo whispered, furiously. "Momma would kill us!"

"She'd kill Dean." Sam flopped down on the loveseat and dropped his backpack to his feet. "No big loss."

"Yeah, shut up, you little bitch."

"Are you going to do your work or just-" Sam cut himself off when Dean put his feet up on Bobby's desk and pulled out a comic book from his bag. "Right." Sam rolled his eyes.

"I don't need to do the homework to pass the tests and all my teachers know that shit, man. They don't fuck with me about it."

Sam just rolled his eyes again.

~~~~~~

Dean's phone ringing on the floor beside the couch woke him at a little after midnight. He was barely awake enough to recognize Y/n's contact picture before he had answered and put the phone to his ear.

"Dean?" Her whisper through the phone made him sit up, more awake.

"Yeah? You okay?" he whispered back to keep Sam from waking.

"Mom told you?"

"Yeah."

"I don't like this," she whined and Dean was struck with the desire to go home and comfort her. "I've never been so…"

"Horny?" Dean guessed.

"I was going for 'uncomfortable' but...yeah," she admitted. Dean swallowed thickly and licked his lips as blood rushed southward. He felt a little bad about getting hard over his little sister's first heat, but it wasn’t something he could control. "I don't know what to do. I just wanna...make it go away."

"O-only thing that would m-make it stop for a few hours would be...an alpha, but, um...you can...you know...and that'll...take some of the edge off."

"I can't," she squeaked.

"Can't...what, masturbate? It's totally natural and okay to-"

"No, I just...maybe I'm too stupid or I'm doing it wrong but it...I've tried before and it d-doesn't work."

Dean's face went hot as his dick twitched. "Um...you could--you aren't stupid, you just don't--um, I could send you a few videos from Pornhub and-"

"I can't watch those kinds of things!"

"Don't be such a prude," he snapped before sighing. "Sorry. That was rude. I'm an ass."

"It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I'm just...I'm not eighteen yet. I really shouldn't look at those videos."

"Right, well…" An idea came to his head and it left his mouth before he could realize how wrong the idea was. "I've seen a lot of those videos. Maybe I could help you."

There was silence on her side for a minute and Dean almost laughed it off and pretended it was a joke until he heard, "You could do that?" Her voice was so small and hopeful that he couldn't call it a joke.

"Y-yeah. I could do that...for you."

"And that’s...okay? It's not-"

"I'm your big brother. If I can help make this a little more bearable for you...I should. So, uh." Dean shot a look at Sam's sleeping form and got up to tip-toe into the bathroom at the foot of the stairs. "You in bed?"

"Yeah," she said on a breath.

"Okay, so...I guess, just get comfortable and, um, close your eyes."

"Okay."

"And just get a clear picture in your head of somebody that you'd wanna touch you. It's better if you can imagine someone...when you can think about their voice and how they might look when they're hovering over you...looking down at you...runnin' their hands down your body like you're about to be doing."

"So, I should run my hands down my body?"

"Did you come up with someone to imagine?"

"Uh-huh."

"Okay, now, imagine that guy and let your hands drift until you find a place that feels good. Imagine him kissing your neck and telling you how fucking pretty you are." A sharp gasp from Y/n made Dean's dick twitch and he reached down to run his hand across the front of his pajama pants. "Some girls really like their nipples being played with. Some like tugging and pinching real hard, but others like it to be all light like a feather touch. So you should-"

"Oh my god!" she whispered through a moan and Dean had to bite his lip to keep from moaning himself...and to keep from asking how she likes her nipples played with.

"Now, um, put your hand in your underwear, whichever hand feels better...usually dominant hand, but sometimes that left hand is just a bit different and that can be fun." He wrapped his fingers around his erection through his pants and tried to control himself. "Keep your other hand playing with your nipples and don't just go straight for it. Tease yourself before you get the fingers going."

"T-tease what? My…"

"You need to play with your clit, baby," he said, cursing himself for calling her that before squeezing his erection and moving on. "Gentle pressure, circular motions...when you-"

"Oh! Oh, fuck!" Hearing her curse was too much. His goody-two-shoes, Student Council Vice President, church choir soloist little sister was playing with her clit and moaning for him. It was so wrong...and a-fucking-mazing. He reached into his pants and boxers and pulled out his cock, sweeping his thumb over the head. "It feels so good."

"If you're...if you think you're wet enough, you can slip your middle finger in-inside you and...just kinda feel around. Don't thrust, just press your fingertip into your pussy." His hand started moving slowly down his erection and back to the tip. "Gotta find the spots you're gonna be aimin' for when you start thrusting."

"How do you know-"

"Dirty movies, nasty mangas, and some hands-on experience. Now...fuck...um, take as long as you want with the teasing, ya know. There's no such thing as too much foreplay, even when you're playing with yourself."

He started tugging at his cock as he listened to her breathing heavily. Something in the rhythm of her breaths told him she had found her pace and started fingering herself. "How's that workin' for you, baby sis?" He needed to hear her voice. He needed to know what she sounded like all wrecked with bliss.

"It's workin'," she whimpered.

"Yeah? You think you can make yourself cum like that?"

"Yeah. Oh, I'm so close."

"I bet you are. Bet you're about to gush all over those pretty little fingers, aren't you?"

"Fuck, so close. Alpha, I'm so close."

Dean dropped his phone in the sink as his whole body jerked and his toes curled, a powerful, unexpected orgasm taking his breath as he shot cum all over the counter. "Shit!" he hissed, grabbing his phone as he continued fucking his fist. He got the phone to his ear just in time to hear Y/n let out a shuddering breath and a relieved moan. "You...you feel better, Y/n?"

"Uh-huh. I...I'm sorry I called you that. It just came out."

Dean chuckled, grabbing some toilet paper to clean up the evidence of what her calling him that did to him. "It's okay. It's natural. You're an omega in heat. I'm an alpha you trust...you were doing that. It's not a big deal. As long as you're feeling better, that's the important thing."

"I'm feeling a lot better. Thank you. I knew it was the right choice to call you."

Dean tossed the toilet paper in the bowl and flushed before securing his boxers and pants. "Why did you call me?"

"Something in me said you'd be able to help."

Dean licked his lips and swallowed. "I'm glad I could help. Um...but we should probably not tell anybody that I did, ya know?"

"Yeah. People probably would think-"

"Yeah."

"Thank you for helping, Dean. This won't be so miserable now."

"Try to get some sleep, Y/n."

"You too. Sorry I woke you up for this."

Dean smiled. "Don't be sorry. I'm glad I could help."

"Oh, um...can you collect my schoolwork for the week? It's gonna be in the front office tomorrow."

"Yeah. I'll, uh, grab it and drop it off for you tomorrow."

"Okay. Thank you. Love you, Dean. Night."

"Night." Dean disconnected the call and stared at himself in the mirror over the sink. "That’s your little sister, man. What's wrong with you?"

He shook his head and sighed, checking the time on his phone and wiping at his tired eyes. "Nobody has to know. Doesn't have to be a thing. I was just helpin' her out like any good big brother would." He flicked the light off and headed back to the couch in the library.

The Kitchen Sink Tags- @flamencodiva @sacriceria @lyarr24 @440mxs-wife @nancymcl @mariekoukie6661 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @cosicas-cuquis @queenoftheunderdark @myheartbelongsintz @squirrelnotsam @akshi8278 @muhahaha303 @agirlwithdemonblood @this-is-me19 @mrswhozeewhatsis

#cassie writes stuff #spn fanfic #a/b/o dynamics #sister winchester #alpha!dean #omega!reader #sister reader #true mates #all human au #sister wincest

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ghoulinpieces · 6 months

Text

𝑽𝑨𝑴𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑪 𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑰𝑺𝑴 ✦ 𝑫𝑹𝑾

╰─➛ vampires surely couldn't exist. & surely, you wouldn't know one personally. so, obviously, no, your boyfriend isn't a bloodthirsty monster... right? so then why was he so odd?

❪ cw: a tad suggestive at times. brief mentions of drugs and overdosing. blood, obvi. arguing. kinda angsty, i suppose. fluff for the most part. a little rushed at times, mb. ❫

❪ ghoulie speaks !! first full fic i'm posting and it's lowkey a little shitty but it's okay. it's severely unedited so just ignore that, and happy spooky season babes <3 ❫

Growing up comes with fears. Whether that be the dark, or heights, or even stupid things that don't exist such as the boogeyman who sits all night under thousands of kids beds, terrorizing them into sleeping earlier, tucked in tight, as to avoid him.

These horror stories are told to you from a young age. From parents who need their kids to listen or older cousins who think it's hilarious to see the scared look on that poor six-year-olds face when they're told the story of why you hear howling on a full moon.

Some kids grow out of it, others don't. Either way it's all fictional superstition, isn't it? No need to be scared of that.

Not when there were very real things to be scared of, such as the spider crawling above the toliet that you were calling your trusty boyfriend to kill.

You were by the door, slipper in hand. He was on the couch, remote in hand. Looking for the perfect horror film to make you cringe when he faintly heard you call his name, jumped up the second time you yelled.

"What?" He approached you, noticing the slipper. He let out a sigh, smiling when you looked at him.

"Kill it." You frowned, "Please, I really gotta go and I can't." He laughed, palm outstretched for the slipper you immediately put in his hand.

"You know... we have two bathrooms. You don't always have to use this one."

"Okay, and? My pads are in this one.. what's the point of using that one when I have everything here?" You leaned on the doorframe, watching as he pushed the slipper against the creepy crawly on the wall. He made a face when you mentioned the pads, as if he was making a mental note of your time of the month. He was always weird on your period.

"Rest in peace, Charlotte." He shrugged, wiping it up with toliet paper.

"Stop doing that! You make me feel bad!" You laughed, hitting his bicep. He had begun referencing Charlotte's Web whenever this situation occurred. He thought it was the funniest thing seeing you cry over the helpful spiders death when you call him to play exterminator in your own home.

He laughed, "Relax. I mean, it's just a spider with friends and family. Wife, kids, a dream." You hit him again as he fixed his hair in the mirror, his freckles prominent in the bathroom lighting before finally walking towards the door.

"Get out." You giggled, "You're an evil man, Danny. Starting to think you don't have a soul." He sighed, his smile dimming a bit.

"Oh, if only you knew... hurry up in here. I wanna watch that new Saw movie." He smiled, closing the door. That was odd, wasn't it?

His words seemed so serious, too serious to be playing along. Maybe you're just overthinking, I mean... what could've he had meant?

But you've been noticing a lot of strange things lately. Ever since you had offered for him to start spending weekends at your place since he's always complaining about his roommate, plus he's barely at his own place anyways, and after much hesitation, he obliged. You've seen more and more of the things he thinks he keeps well hidden.

You've always noticed how he talks very vintage like. Not as in 18th century vintage but just like he's a kid from the 60s with no cares and the only thing he was looking forward too was Grateful Dead and Janis Joplin at Woodstock. But that was explainable, he likes old things, has an old soul.

But, something not so explainable is that he often ventures out at night, late when he thinks you're sleeping, and doesn't return till hours later, hair messed with and slightly out of breath when he snuggles back up to your form. Hands always cold. You swore you saw blood on his lip one time.

You've left your mind gone wild with explanations of that. Cheating always at the forefront but Danny could never do that. Not with his kind heart and his puppy eyes that worship you. His praises and actions that he reserves for you and you only.

You're not even sure if he sleeps at all. You're quite the insomniac yourself but even then you end up passing out of exhaustion. You've never seen him sleep.

He also doesn't eat garlic, can't be in the same room as it... odd but not the most strange.

You smile as you walk out the hallway and into the living room, your female pitbull cuddled up with him. You named her Rhiannon, it had been the song playing in the adoption center when you met. "Aw, aren't y'all just the cutest. I love that she loves you now." You scrunch your nose, bending over to kiss her snout.

You were always happy seeing them get along. When you first had Danny over, she had barked nonstop. She had even snapped at him, wouldn't let him near her or you. Which is odd considering she's the sweetest dog on Earth. She's never bitten anyone or even tried to, she's loves people, especially ones you're close with.

Odd she didn't like the man you're inlove with. Oh, well, she does now. That's all that matters, right?

Danny gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you onto his lap as you shivered from his cold touch.

He is always freezing.

For a man like Danny, you'd expect him to always run warm. Just like a human furnace, instead, he's the North Pole.

"You okay?" He knows you're okay, just like he knows why you're cold. Of course he does. He's managed to cover up the truth by telling you he has low iron.

You simply nod, grabbing the throw blanket from behind him and snuggling closer to him on his lap. He smiles softly as he starts the movie, setting the remote down before holding you tighter. You moved your legs to be touching Rhiannon, just to let her know she's not forgotten.

It's the simple things you do that make his heart ache, make him yearn for a forever with you. Yearn to be able to grow old and watch your grandkids play in the backyard. Yearn to be able to tell you the whole truth.

But he can't. He wouldn't do that to you. Let you know there's a limited time frame between your love before he has to move cities to keep his charade going. He must rather suffer with that knowledge alone then break your heart before it's time. Or break his when you inevitably fear him.

Oh, how he curses his soulless body for loving you so deeply.

Perhaps he should've gone with the twins to Nashville, he thinks the distraction of them would've kept him from falling inlove.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

It was sunny out, far too sunny for an October sunday afternoon but you weren't complaining. Danny was outside, playing with Rhiannon while you were in the kitchen, knife in hand, apple on the plastic plate you've had for far too many years.

He had offered to cut it for you but you declined. He does so much for you, the least you could do is cut your own fruit.

But even then, you always were a klutz. You grip on the knife had slipped, sending the blade straight into your middle finger as you, stupidly, tried to catch it. "Fuck!" You hissed grabbing a paper towel to wrap around the wound.

"What happened, are you okay?" You jumped as Danny appeared behind you. He's always been freakishly fast, Rhiannon just now approaching the kitchen and she was running.

"Jesus, fuck! Don't sneak up on me like that." You sighed, "Sorry, sorry... 'm fine, just cut myself." You frowned watching as he picked up the knife and dropped in the sink, his body tensing when you mentioned the cut. He shouldn't... it could go horribly wrong, he knows that... he does it anyways.

"Let me see." His voice is so soft you could cry, hand outstretched for yours which you give gladly. Winces escaping you as he looks at the cut, blood pooling slowly from the broken skin. His jaw clenched and eyes zeroed in on it, "You scared me, y'know, thought something worse happened."

"I'll be fine. Sorry I scared you, it just fucking hurt so bad." You sigh, he shook his head.

"Don't apologize, you hurt yourself. You're allowed to be as dramatic as you want." He smiled softly, looking up at you making a face at him. He smiled wider to which you smiled back before looking back at your finger.

"Shit, Danny, it's bleeding. Can you go get the band-" You cut yourself in shock when instead of doing what you had asked, he wrapped his mouth around your finger and sucked the blood away.

His eyes never left yours, it was strangely erotic. You just blinked at him, breathing quite heavily, "Never thought those fingers would be in my mouth in a different context." He just barely whispered, kissing the cut that had stopped bleeding. The cut that was barely a cut anymore and instead skin somewhat stitched back together.

He's panicking. He shouldn't have done that, what normal person does that? He just fucked everything. Fuck, there's no excuse or reasoning for that... blood kink? Wouldn't be too far from the truth. He ran his tongue over his teeth, panicking further when he feels the slight poke of his fangs.

You just laughed in slight disbelief, reaching up to kiss his cheek, "Thank you for helping me."

He laughed, "You gonna let me finish cutting it for you?" He hid his face by turning around to find another, clean, knife.

"Have at 'em, baby, I'm done. I'm injured." You sigh dramatically, walking over to kiss the base of his neck and wrap an arm around his waist, "Just so you know, and not to be weird here... that was strangely sexual... kinda hot" He laughed loudly, his eyes crinkling.

"You liked watching me suck your blood? Really? That's what does it for you?"

"Hey, you can suck my blood anytime you want, Dracula." If only you actually knew what you were saying.

"Might take you up on that, weirdo." He nudged you with his elbow. He wouldn't. He'd never do it, too risky. He could kill you. He's not too good at self restraint.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

Nights were always your favorite with Danny. Ever since he started spending nights over, your nighttime routine had been weaved along with his.

The two of you had learned to dance around each other in the bathroom. Maneuvering around one another so you get to your toothbrush or facial cleanser.

You were in the middle of scrubbing your teeth when Danny finished, putting the toothbrush he bought down at CVS to keep at your place in the cup. He leaned against the counter, watching you with the softest look on his face. He was a goner when it came to you, especially to the domesticity of your time spent together.

"Why you lookin' at me like that?" You smiled softly, looking over at him.

"Like what?" He laughed.

"You know how you're looking at me." You shook your head, putting your own toothbrush away.

"Like I love you?" He smiled, his arms wrapping around you, "Like you're the best thing to ever happen to me? Like I couldn't imagine never knowing you?"

Despite the blush on your face you laughed, and grabbed his arms, "Come on! Now, you're just bein' cheesy." You leaned your head back against his shoulder as he looked at you through the mirror, his own head resting ontop of your shoulder.

"Thought you liked cheesy." He kissed your cheek, his hands tightening their grip ever-so-slightly for just a moment before loosening.

"I do but sometimes you take it so far." You smile, walking out of his grip and grabbing his hand.

"There is never too much cheese." He sounded offended and it made you smile wider, "You think there's such thing as too much cheese?"

"I know there's such thing as too much cheese now get in bed. I'm tired."

With you cuddled up close to him and fast asleep, your arm around his waist and Rhiannon on his other side, her snout on his stomach, he decides to stay in that night. He can miss one night.

He hates leaving every night, to leave you in an empty bed that's cold for hours on end, but it's the only time he can get away long enough to do what he needs to. He wishes he didn't have to, he wishes he could stay wrapped up in you and your arms. Or at the very least he wishes he could sleep, he wishes for a lot of things.

But, when you're like Danny, most wishes can never be granted. And if they can, certainly not without a price. A risky, dangerous, scary, price.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

Perhaps you were bored or perhaps your Twilight binge had rotted your brain, but you were knees deep in vampire facts.

You were definitely bored.

You were simply curious as to what the original folk story had about vampires, what had been added over time for the sake of storytelling. First clicking on Reddit, horrible but what else would you use? But then, you started to notice that too many things stated seemed quite familiar.

You couldn't remember who it had reminded you of... it was annoying you if were honest.

Cold skin. Nocturnal. Freakishly fast. Doesn't like garlic. Little to no eating. Obviously likes blood.

But then, there were things that counteracted it like them burning in the sun and having no reflection. He loved to look in the mirror and he practically lived in the sun.

He... oh shit.

It was Danny. He fit every description.

You began to look more into it, going on odd forums and weird websites that seemed like they were created for the weirdos of the internet and everything you saw reminded you of him more and more. He fit everything. It was quite scary. But, it's just a coincidence, right? Vampires don't exist, right?

You'd just have to pay more attention than you already do the next time you see him.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

The week had came and gone since that night but you hadn't heard from Danny in days, you were worried. You had no one to call to see if they knew about his whereabouts. Sure, he had friends. Work friends. They rarely spoke outside of his job.

Sometimes you think you're the only one he hangs out with. He's a bit of a recluse but you can tell it's not by choice, he's far too much of a social butterfly and outgoing in public to be this lonely in a city as big as yours. Another odd thing about him. You might just start making a list. After you find him.

It wasn't like him to disappear, not like that. He always returned within the day. It's been radio silence since Monday morning when he left. He had even missed your date that was planned for Wednesday, ignored all your messages and calls while you sat at the book store, browsing alone.

You had considered going to his place after that but... he didn't necessarily allow you there.

It was never explicitly stated that you were banned from his home but he never invited you over, always made an excuse why you couldn't come in, never had you pick him up from his complex.

#7 on the list of things that make him odd and another reason to the possible vampire theory, but they don't exist. You don't even know why you're entertaining the idea.

So, maybe he is cheating. It explains the late night departures, you never spending time at his place. There's not much to go off of but... it's the most sane explanation you could think of.

You wouldn't believe he was a vampire. Fuck what all those sketchy websites and forums and reddit posts said. Vampires are not real.

But, oh, how it pains you to think of him cheating. To think that every moment between you two was an act, that every praise and act of service wasn't true, that he pleases other women in the dark of their bedroom the same he pleases you. That he doesn't love you.

You two had been together for a little over a year and you were madly inlove. He was your gentle giant and it pains you to think he could be someone else's as well. Maybe that's why he hesitated so much when you brought up the weekend stays, he had someone waiting for him back home.

If he did, she wasn't there. You had hesitated multiple times before finally knocking on the apartment door, you waited about a minute or so after hearing a dog bark before deciding to just leave. Maybe nobody was home.

But then the door swung open, his roommate on the other side. You had seen photos of him. He was tall and skinny, long brunette hair with a bit of a wave to it and downturned eyes accompanied with an amazing bone structure. "Oh, hello." His voice was a bit raspy, not too much but enough to notice.

"Hey... um, is Danny here?" Your voice was timid, you felt odd showing up out of the blue. Even odder and uncomfortable when his brows furrowed together in confusion.

"No... he isn't. Do you know him?"

Oh.

You realized you were staring when he tilted his head, "Oh, yeah... yeah I do. He's um... I'm Y/N. His girlfriend." You wanted to curse yourself for sounding so scared.

His face fell before his jaw clenched and his eyes widened, whether that be in panic or anger, you weren't sure, "You are? Well, he didn't tell me he was seeing anybody... I'm Sam." He reached his hand out and when you took it, all you could notice was that he was cold too.

"Yeah, he's... he's told me about you." You smile softly when he nods.

"I'd hope. I only live with the man." He laughed, quite stoner like, "He's never mentioned you. I can see why, you're quite gorgeous. No wonder he wants to keep you a secret from me." Lie. He knows why Danny never told him and he knows it's not because of how gorgeous he finds you, "How long have you been seeing him?"

"For like a year or so..." You sigh as his face falls, "Kinda odd he never mentioned me, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. Really odd." He shrugged, "But, yeah, he's been down in Nashville since Monday. He returned home from wherever it is he spends his weekends, which I assume is your place? He left that afternoon, a family emergency popped up. I couldn't go, I mean, I have a dog to feed. Can't leave her all by herself." He laughed.

"Since Monday?"

"Yeah... I gather he didn't tell you? Missed whatever it is you had planned Wednesday?"

"Did he tell you about it?" How could he tell Sam he had a date but not about you? You were starting to regret this, you just wanted to go home. Maybe you could distract yourself with terrible Netflix romcoms.

"Not really. All he told me he was busy on Wednesday but I just assume he must've cancelled once he left..." Sam tilted his head, "Quite cruel he didn't."

You frowned, "It is, isn't it? Um... if you hear from him at all.. can you just tell him to give me a call?"

"Oh, yeah, of course." Sam will, but he can't promise that he'll tell Danny he can keep seeing you. It's far too dangerous, not just for you but for them too, "You have a nice day, Y/N." He smiled, you smiled back though it had to be forced.

"You too, Sam." The interaction did more harm than good, you felt odd and off balance as you walked away. More saddened than anything. What was Danny hiding from you? Why was he hiding you? Were you some dark secret?

You were taken out of your memory revisit when you heard a knock on the door, Rhiannon barking as she you shushed her and stood.

You sighed when you opened the door. Your gentle giant standing with sunflowers in hand, fiddling with his necklace and his short curly hair moving when he looked up at you. You were relieved he was alive, pissed that he disappeared and showed up with flowers.

"Hi." He breathed. He thought you looked radiant, he always did. You could show up covered in dirt and mud and slime and he'd happily clean you off while complimenting how beautiful you are, "Got you flowers... sorry that I missed-"

"Where the fuck have you been?" You cut him off, hand on your hip as you eyed him.

Shit.

He's heard that tone before. He's seen you use it on the phone with your mother when she's pissed you off, and he's seen you use it with Rhiannon when she won't listen. You've used it hundreds of times, pissed off beyond belief, he's just never been on the receiving end.

"You disappear for fucking days, ignore all of my texts and my calls then you show up like everything's fine? With fucking flowers?" You sighed, pushing the door open with more force than necessary, "Get in, I'm not arguing with you in the middle of the hallway." He quickly obliged. If there's one thing he's learned about you when your mad, it's to listen.

"Baby, believe me when I say I am so, so, sorry I missed our date and didn't call. I was going too but I had a family emergency and it just slipped my mind." It's not a lie, but it's not the whole truth. The truth would involve exposing him and the twins to you, he couldn't do that.

Now, he sounded genuine, but the anger that seeped itself into your bones refused to leave that easily.

"It slipped your mind to call me and tell me you were going to Nashville? What? Did it also slip your mind to tell your roommate I existed, Danny?" He tensed up, eyes wide, once you mentioned Sam.

"You went to my apartment? You talked to Sam? Why would you do that? What's wrong with you?" He knew he fucked up when the words left his mouth and you frowned,

"What's wrong with me? Are you shitting me, Danny?"

"You know I didn't mean it like tha-"

"You were gone for fucking days! I didn't know where you were, not one fucking call or text in eight days! What did you expect me to do?!" You snapped, you were not going to be painted as the one in the wrong for caring, "He at least had the decency to tell me where you were!"

"What did you tell him?" You wanted to scream, that's what he was worried about? "Y/N! What did you tell Sam? Did you tell him we're together?"

"No, I told him I was a fucking alien from Mars looking to probe your brain. Of course I told him we're together, why wouldn't I?" You sighed, arms crossed. Danny looked tense, scared. You've never seen him like that.

"Because I'm not supposed to be seeing you... I'm not... I was never supposed to be even talking to you." He sighed, rubbing at his forehead. You just felt more confused and hurt.

"What the fuck do you mean? ...Danny!" You exclaimed when he didn't answer, "Are you... are you cheating on me?"

"What?"

He looked bewildered, maybe even hurt you'd think that. You regret asking but what was were you supposed to say? You two were on opposite sides of the world, he was in the light and you were in the dark. You needed to know.

"Are you?"

"No, baby, no. I'd never, I... even if I could I wouldn't." He sighed, frowning. He walked over to you, grabbing your biceps softly, "I promise you, I would never. I love you and only you, where would you even get such an idea?"

"Are you shitting my dick? Do you think you're good at hiding shit? I know you sneak out in the middle of the night for hours, Sam didn't even know about me and now you're saying you're not supposed to be seeing me." You sigh, dropping your arms which he immediately grabbed your hands. And you let him, "What the fuck is going on with you?" He sighed, looking down at the ground before back at you.

"Listen, I can't tell you-" You scoffed, taking your hands back and going to walk away before he grabbed your arm and turned you to him, "You don't know how badly I wish I could, but, please just trust me when I say it's for your benefit. It'd be dangerous for you to know." His hands grabbed your face, his fingers gentle as they cradled it, thumbs brushing your cheeks.

"What are you in a gang? I can't... I can't be with you if you're hiding shit from me, Danny." You frowned, "You can't just keep lying to me."

"I know but... it's better if I do." He whispered. He didn't want to lose you, ever, but maybe it is for the better.

"So you're fine with me walking away? You're okay with losing me?"

"No, I'm not but I can't tell you the truth."

"You'd much rather I break up with you than tell me?" You couldn't believe it, it seemed like a such a stab. It was worse for him though, he knew he was going to lose you but he thought he had at least another three years with you. At least he'd be able to get over it now rather than mope about leaving you behind when him and Sam move down to Nashville to be with the twins, "I can't fucking believe you, Danny. Seriously. What is so fucking bad that you'd rather lose me than just be honest?" You weren't sad, not at that moment. You wanted him to fight for you instead he gave up as if it was a battle he could never win, which in his eyes, it was.

"Y/N..." He sighed, "I'm sorry."

"You're not sorry, Danny, don't act like you are. Jesus Christ, you don't even care! Do I really mean that little to you? Like seriously, did I ever matter?" You scoffed, taking a step back.

"You mean everything to me, Y/N, and you know that. Do you seriously think I don't care?" He seemed hurt that you'd ever think that but what else were you supposed to think?

"You're not showing me otherwise." You frowned, "Just... just tell me!" You exclaimed, opening you're mouth to speak before he beat you to the finish line.

"I'm a vampire! Okay? I'm a fucking nocturnal blood sucking monster!"

Is he... is he serious? ...Does he think you're that fucking dumb?

You can't help but laugh loudly, putting your head into your hands. He's scared out of his mind, he doesn't know how you're gonna react. He just knows he can't lose you this early, he needs you. He's an addict and you're his heroine.

He's quite literally the vampire and he considers you to be the blood.

"I can't believe you. Are you fucking with me? Like... are there some hidden cameras here?" You look around to emphasize your words while he stares at you, "Jesus, fuck, Danny. Y'know-"

"You don't believe me?" He seemed shocked, as if he didn't just say he was a vampire.

"Of course I don't believe you! Vampires don't exist!" You exclaimed, "You seriously much rather fuck with me? If you're cheating, the least you could do is tell me! It'd make this a whole lot easier!"

"Make what easier? You're seriously gonna leave me? Even after I told you the truth?" He seemed in disbelief. He swears, if he had a heart it'd broken like a dropped vase. Shattered. Pieces scattered around the floor that he'll have to pick up one by one and try his best to glue and tape back together but inevitably fail because he'll be missing the key part. You.

"You're not telling me the truth, Danny!"

"I am! I swear to God I am!" He was getting frustrated now too, you had never seen him so annoyed. If you weren't drowning in your arguement, you'd want him to take you then and there.

Anger looked good on him.

"Prove it!"

"What?"

You sighed, rubbing at your forehead, "You heard me, Danny. If you're really a nocturnal bloodsucker, prove it."

He scoffed, "How do you want me to prove that?" You rolled your eyes, "I'm not gonna start fucking running around here like I'm Edward Cullen." You scoffed this time. Did he have to be so fucking cute? And dumb?

"Your fangs. Show me your fangs." You stepped closer to him, hands on your hips. Watching as he sighed before opening his mouth, you waited a moment or two, just looking at a regular human mouth. But then, you gasped as his fangs began growing in. His teeth changing right before your eyes.

His eyes, however, were no longer the sweet brown you adore but instead piercing red. Scarier, sure, but his puppy dog eyes were still there and you loved it all the same.

"Believe me now?"

"But you don't burn in the sun... and you have a reflection..." You whispered, eyes wide and frantic.

"All myths." He shrugged as if he didn't just reveal that he was a blood thirsty monster, "Do you believe me?"

"Yeah.. yeah, I believe you." He smiled at that, putting his fangs more on display, "Oh my God... you don't... all those nights you disappeared, you weren't eating people were you? You're not gonna eat me, right?"

"No! Oh my God, no." He laughed a bit, his hands immediately shooting to grab your arms, "I feed off of animals. I don't... I never liked the idea of killing someone. I mean, I don't have to kill you to feed off you but..." He trailed off, shrugging.

"But what?" You tilted your head. You wanted to understand, you needed to, "You're afraid you'll go too far?"

"I have gone too far. One too many times." He sighed, "So, animals are the next best thing. They work just as well as people."

"You're a vampire." You laughed, the information fully settled, "Oh my God! Is that why Sam didn't know about me?" You frowned as he looked down at the ground.

"Yeah.. yeah, we made a deal we wouldn't going to get close to anybody here, let alone date them. Too many broken hearts, too many risks. Plus, we'd have to leave eventually." He sounded sad, telling you all this. And you couldn't help but hang onto to the leaving part, "But I just... I couldn't stay away from you even if I wanted too... you know that."

"You're gonna have to leave at some point?"

"Listen, I don't want to but... I can't stay forever. I mean, either way, I'm immortal... you're gonna grow old and blossom while I'm stuck being 24." He frowned, stepping closer to you. Your chest against his, "I promise you, if I could stay and give you the life you want I wouldn't even think twice about doing it." You just nodded, wrapping your arms around him.

This was going to take some getting used to.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

It had been three months since that night. Things were the same for the most part but you could tell, the fact that you'll have to inevitably part has been looming over both your heads. You just decided to ignore it, live in delusion. It hadn't exactly worked.

You two had always been inseparable but even more so now. Constantly touching, constantly talking, constantly just being together. You still never went to his place, Danny claiming it's because he likes the privacy of your apartment, and something about Sam being a whore.

However, that didn't stop Sam from wanting to get to know you. Ever since he found out about you, he claimed you're all Danny ever talked about. He never realized just how little Danny talked before then. You've invited him over once or twice.

He'll come in, eat all your food, because apparently vampires not being able to eat human food is also a myth, something about how as long as they drink blood they'll be fine. He'll talk to you about whatever, whenever, as if you're old friends and be completely barefoot the entire time.

You've also overheard their little conversations once or twice, mostly about you. Mostly about how badly the break-up will hurt, the seconds counting down to it.

"Y'know..." Sam started, looking in your fridge, his tone immediately tensing Danny up. That's the tone he'll use whenever he's about to suggest something outrageous, "You could always turn her, wouldn't exactly be difficult-"

"Are you fucking crazy?" Danny exclaimed, accidentally slamming his water bottle down. Eyes shooting daggers at Sam, "Seriously, Sam? Do you know what could fucking happen?"

"Yes, I know. You have no restraint and you'll end up killing her which you know isn't true." Sam sighed, closing the nearly empty fridge and leaning against it, arms crossed.

You were currently standing in the hallway, trying your best to eavesdrop quietly.

"Isn't true my ass. Do you not remember Annie? Her death was my fault." Sam rolled his eyes, sighing. He always brings up fucking Annie.

On that note, who the fuck is Annie? He's never mentioned an Annie to you.

"Annie died because she was coked out and shooting heroine while you did it. She would've died either way from an overdose, you just sped up the process. Y/N isn't a fucking drug addict, she'll live." He wasn't wrong but Danny could never risk it.

"You don't know that, Sam."

"Yes, I do. You love her too much to ever risk hurting her, I know. But guess what? You didn't love Annie, not the way you love her, and Annie surely didn't love you, she used you for drugs and sex, man, and you know that." Danny did know that, but that doesn't make the blood on his hands wash away, "You think Y/N wants to lose you too?"

"No, I don't but guess what, Sam? I'm not ever doing it, no matter what. I'm not risking her life or taking away her fucking soul." Danny sighed, rubbing his forehead, "I can't... I don't want to. I could never forgive myself if she died, just like I could never forgive myself if I took her away from her life."

What life? You rarely talk to your family in years and all your close friends live in different states. Danny had been the one constant.

"Just because you didn't get a choice in the matter doesn't mean she shouldn't either." God, he hated when Sam was right.

"She wants to grow old and have a family, Sam, she doesn't want to move from state to state every three to six years." Danny sighed, looking down at the counter he was leaning on.

"How do you know that? How do you know that girl won't follow you to the ends of the Earth? 'Cause it's clear as day that she'll do whatever if it means you won't leave." Sam had grabbed Dannys water now, going to sip from it when you finally decided to walk into the kitchen. Saving Danny from the conversation.

"Hey, weirdos. What'd I miss?" You smiled, seeing Danny immediately soften at the sight of you. And you didn't miss the look Sam gave him either when you walked up and wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Nothing. Just vampire shit." Sam smiled.

"Yeah... just vampire shit, nothing interesting." Danny smiled, "I'll go get the popcorn ready if you wanna go put movie on."

"Sam... you wanna do that for me?" Thank God he took the hint and walked to the living room, both hands raised as he did. He usually complains whenever you imply you want to be alone with Danny, "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" He turned around in your arms, his hands resting on your face, "Got you in my arms."

You scrunched your nose at him which he kissed, "You're so cheesy. Go get the popcorn ready, Dracula." You kissed his cheek, leaving him alone in the kitchen when you walked away.

You'll bring it up another day. For now, you're enjoying all the time you have left with Danny... and apparently Sam.

#danny wagner x reader #danny wagner fluff #vamp!danny #greta van fleet fluff #gvf fluff #danny wagner fic #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #ghoulie <3

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