#and then the movie did not end at him being in the basement when the house blew up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jawllines · 3 months

Text

So on a Tuesday, Y/N wakes up from a fitful rest and leaves Harry’s bed to find him in the kitchen. Leaf is cradled to his chest while he speaks to someone on the phone – a designer, she thinks, they’re talking about a pattern of something, but Y/N isn’t sure. She doesn’t get to know either because as soon as Harry sees that she’s awake, he smiles, then hovers his finger over the end button, “Mael, I’ll call you a little later, yeah?” He hangs up without a second thought, and Y/N’s eyes go wide.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she frowned and Harry waved his hand.

“Nah, s’boring shit anyway. Chevron is a thing of the fucking past and it’s not coming back any time soon on my watch.” He turned on his stool, stretching out his legs and waving her forward, and when she got close enough, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, until she was standing between his thighs, “You take forever to get up. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were still a human.”

Harry and Y/N like being around each other maybe too much

part 1

part 2

part 3

iv.

Y/N wondered how many vampires she’d seen in her lifetime.

Unlike the stories and movies, they didn’t lurk in the night and meld into the shadows all of the time. Their skin was pale, but no more pale than someone living in the mountains with very little sun. Their eyes weren’t red, or golden brown, or pools of black – they were just normal irises, no different than humans, the color encrypted in their DNA from conception. They were gorgeous, sometimes eerily so, but not in a way that you could easily group them by their features. It was comparable to being backstage on a runway – the people surrounding you were models, you knew that, and they were all beautiful in their own way with their own unique features. The difference is that instead of only finding them pretty in passing, it’s mesmerizing, almost hard to fathom, alluring in an almost unignorable way.

But Y/N can’t remember ever being out in public and seeing a vampire, even if she didn’t know what they were called at the time. Clearly she didn’t, if one was able to ask her on a date and she’d just presumed she’d lucked out with an attractive man who didn’t mind dating below his league. Otherwise, they were masters of camouflage, or Y/N was just less observant than she thought.

Because right now, even to the untrained eye, Y/N is almost positive that she looks like a vampire. Or at least that something is off with her. It’s in the way her posture is almost too correct, ramrod straight like someone straightened out her back and put her in a brace to keep her unmoving. Her chest did not rise and fall with each breath – not because the need to use her lungs had not been completely eradicated yet, but for the fact she’s taking a ton of shallow breaths through her mouth to avoid smelling anything, or anyone. The way she holds her fork looks weird to her – she hadn’t held a fork in so long it was an unfamiliar weight between her fingers. She gave terse replies to questions, and could barely hold a conversation longer than small talk.

To anyone looking or interacting with her, they must think she’d grown up in a basement and just recently ventured out into the world. To Harry, who sits across from her with an amused look dancing across his features, he knew she was just attempting to reacclimate into society.

They had been out before, but normally that was at night, or early during cloudy weekdays when most of the city population is stuck in their stuffy office buildings. When the amount of humans is sparse and Y/N could amble away if being around them became too much. She’d never been forced to sit among them for longer than a couple minutes at a time, maybe waiting in a long line, or patiently off to the side when a human woman was interested in the same earrings that she was.

That had been her toeing the water; Harry held her hand at the edge of a dock while she dipped her feet into the pool of being a productive member of society again. She would have to return to work at some point, and she would need to be able to attend social events or see her family, or her friends back home without wanting to eat them. Harry was surrounded by humans all day nearly every day and he hasn’t lashed out and ended up in a tabloid for sinking his teeth into a designer. It was possible, though it would take time, and a lot of practice – at some point she would be able to integrate seamlessly back into the human world.

At some point – right now, it was fucking hard.

Harry took her out for lunch, at a small deli a couple blocks from his flat. It was a day when the sky was heavy with clouds and would be for the majority of the afternoon, so they were able to venture out with no fear that Y/N would get all rashy again. All of Y/N’s fear lay within being in closed quarters with humans and pretending that the scent of their blood doesn’t affect her in the slightest. Or that the leaves of the salad she was stuffing into her mouth tasted more than just bland, rubbery nothing to a palate now keen on something metallic and sweet. And in that fear, and her overexerting her effort trying to look normal, she thinks she’s making herself look uncanny, unapproachable, and too much like she doesn’t belong. Like someone clipped her out of a comic book and pasted her in The Very Hungry Caterpillar.

“Relax your shoulders,” Harry spoke from across the table, having already eaten half his sandwich, tucking the straw of his soda at the corner of his lips and sipping, “It looks like I just brought you out of a boarding school.”

“Shut up.” Y/N had been saying that a lot to him today because it was two simple words that didn’t require as much effort as trying not to eat someone.

Harry smiled, all too relaxed for what Y/N would think are pretty serious circumstances but she guesses he’s been through this so often he isn’t worried about a thing. Harry never seemed worried when they did something new, always promising her that he would know if she was going to do something stupid, because he knows her. And if the need to subdue her were to arise, then he could do so easily, or so he tells her every time she’s stressed about it.

“You had plenty to eat before we came,” he murmured, voice just a touch lower, his brows raising slightly, “Even if you take a small little breath through your nose, you won’t feel like you need to do anything.”

It’s difficult to talk inconspicuously about it, in case someone nosy was listening into their conversation (because Y/N is fucking nosy, so she knows someone else is bound to match her), but Harry does it easily. Y/N did eat a considerable amount before they did this, from the baggies, and even a little treat from Harry just before they’d left the flat. She was full, blood-drunk, and hazy up to the point that they were about to walk inside the shop and she’d worked herself up.

“Mind over matter,” Harry slid his leg to her and locked their ankles together – he was resting his chin and cheek in his palm, watching her carefully, drinking her in, “Just take a small little breath through your nose, hm? You’ll see it’s not as bad as you think.”

Y/N blinks at him, gripping her fork a little too hard, and she feels the stainless steel give beneath her grip, “I – okay,” she nodded, slow, steady – the whole point of this excursion was to start working on being able to smell humans without wanting to desperately sink her teeth into them. Before she could start utilizing feeders, she needed to be completely in control of how her body responds and reacts to stimuli like this. At least that’s what Harry tells her, and she’s inclined to believe him since there isn’t anyone to bounce off of his ideas anymore. She isn’t sure if they’re still on the pathway he used for all the new vampires he mentored or if he’d toggled it based on their situation. She could message Christopher and Naomi about it but every time she messages them, her heart yearns and aches in her chest.

“You’ll stop me if anything happens?” She knows he will, but she feels better when he’s all cocky and sure of himself. One of them needed complete faith in the situation, and it usually was Harry.

Harry, who had been treating her all soft and tender lately. His words could still be harsh and he rolls his eyes and rumples his lips at her when she says something he thinks is stupid, and he’s patient, but even that patience runs out relatively quickly – but every interaction has a much softer edge to it. With every harsh critique of her technique or skill, (“How many times are you going to listen to the neighbor’s conversation and not me outside, downstairs, when you’re on the balcony? It shouldn’t matter how many flights up you are, this is baby stuff we’re trying to accomplish now!”) there is a gentle caress of her skin. His fingers will dance along her wrist, and he’ll slide his fingers between the slots of hers, and squeeze, before murmuring, “Let’s try again.”

They are much closer now – Y/N doesn’t know if they’re dating, or if vampires even date, but she knows that Harry treats her like they might be. Harry pushes his nose into her neck and breathes in deeply like she’s the best thing he’s ever smelled. He entertains her musings about code and work despite not having a clue what she’s talking about or saying. At the end of the night (early in the morning) when she is thinking about lying down, Harry offers his room to her, his bed.

“You can always sleep in here,” he’d told her, “Even if I’m not here, yeah? Just don’t stain the sheets or anything, because to keep them this pristine even with a kitten has been hell.”

Shit, he’s even referred to Leaf as their baby a couple of times, whereas previously he’s only called her his own. “What are you doing to my baby?” Is what he would say before when Leaf is playing with one of the many feathered string toys that Harry bought her and Y/N accidentally makes her jump right into the wall. Now it’s things like, “Our baby is so happy,” when she comes up to them on the sofa, purring and kneading at Y/N’s thighs before snuggling in her lap and falling asleep.

Things with him were soft. This certainly felt like a relationship, sometimes, but Y/N knew better than to get ahead of herself. Last time she did that she ran away from her hometown and then got bitten by a fucking vampire, so it was better to just take things a step at a time.

“What, you think I’m g’na let you eat someone and make me look bad?” He speaks low enough that only she could hear, helped by the loud chatter of voices around them, and stretches one arm across the table, looping his fingers around her forearm, and dragging the blunt tip of his nail along her skin, “Of course I’ll stop you, dummy.”

Y/N shivers but feels safe; he’s got a leg wrapped around hers, and a hand on her. If she tried to move, he would stop her immediately. Harry doesn’t say aloud that that’s what he’s doing, but they both know it makes her feel better when he’s got his hands on her in some way. She’d told him as much in the past when she’d looped her arm in the gap between his and his body when they first went into the grocery store.

“Hm, is this a ploy to make me touch you in public? You’re a filthy exhibitionist.” He’d teased her at the time, but now he keeps his hand on her when they’re out. An arm wrapped around her shoulder, a hand at the nape of her neck, his fingers looped around her wrist.

She lets herself breathe in, just a little bit, a tiny inhale through her nose. The scents weren’t overwhelming like she’d thought – there’s plenty to sift through, it wasn’t just an onslaught of the blood pumping through the veins surrounding them. Fresh bread, the fabric softener on people’s clothes, the cleaner used to wipe down tables when they were emptied – she smelled all of that too. All a mix, like when she was a human, only she could smell and separate them just a note better than she could before. And the blood – she couldn’t smell blood before, but with a belly full, it wasn’t as hard. It still made her mouth water, and there was an itch beneath her skin that wanted to be plucked at, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

Harry drags his nails back and forth on her forearm lazily, “See?” His relaxed posture stays, leaning on his palm, “You’re not a monster, are you, baby?”

She swallowed thickly, shaking her head, “No, I’m not,” she cleared her throat a little, “We need to – um – we need to get Leaf chicken treats, she likes those best.” Y/N wanted to practice being normal, talking about normal things, and thinking about something else than how she’s trying not to breathe in too deeply. She didn’t necessarily explain this to Harry beforehand but he doesn’t seem confused either, just goes along with it.

“Really? I kind of thought she liked the shrimp ones better.”

Y/N focuses more on Harry’s scent – he smells good. He always smells so good, that whenever she does sleep in his bed, she dips her nose into the blankets and stuffs her face into the pillows (obviously when he’s not there, she would never live that down). If she could shove her nose in the base of his throat and not stuff her teeth into his neck then she would do it all of the time. Harry does it to her, unprovoked and unannounced, burrowing the cold tip of his nose against her carotid. She used to squirm, her ear meeting her shoulder as she pulled away from him, but now she’s gotten used to it – now, she almost expects it when he comes home from work, and if he doesn’t, she’s a little disappointed.

It’s easy to forget why she’s at Harry’s in the first place if she’s just focusing on her and Harry’s dynamic. It’s also easy to forget that she would eventually face the music when she has to confront her feelings – Niall. There was a heavy weight on her shoulders like she wore a helmet of cast iron everywhere she went; sometimes she would forget about it, it’d been so long that it was easy to let it slip her mind, but then her shoulders would feel the pressure of it periodically.

Like when you wear glasses for the first time. At first, it is all you can think about, how it rests on the bridge of your nose, the way the frames outline your field of view. But a couple of hours in they’re merely an extension of you, you forget they’re on your face until you reach up to rub your eye and something is in the way.

The helmet was heavy, the look in Niall’s eyes as he told her, the cold feeling that had flushed through her veins when he’d admitted it. She wondered if it felt like his own helmet had been lifted, the weight of his guilt eased by the admission. Did he know he was going to transfer it to her? Take the helmet off and plop it onto her head?

Her heart was torn in two. Y/N wanted to hate him for it, she really did – want to cuss him out, scratch him, and spit on him – how did vampires fight? Did they bite each other? Do they punch each other? Kick, slap? Was it still below the belt to kick him in the balls or was that an appropriate fighting tactic? Harry had never taught her how to fight – she thought maybe some sort of combat training would be important down the line, but vampires don’t usually do that. Movies and books make it seem like it was a constant battle, always something going on that they needed to defeat. Vampires typically coexist peacefully, is the thing, and their only true threat are hunters but it’s often better to avoid them or flee the situation than to fight, at least when you’re new. As long as she doesn’t act recklessly then she wouldn’t have to worry.

And in the same breath that she hated him, she owed him her life. It was a new one – a flawed one, no more flawed than her old life, but still a new life. She would have to change how she lives, eats, exists, and it’s scary – it’s so scary! But she was alive. She was still walking around, she could still work toward goals she’d set for herself, and she could find a place for herself in this world instead of bleeding out in an alley, still feeling lost and alone.

Would she have walked away from someone in need how she expected Niall to? If she’d stumbled upon the same scene, would she have been able to ignore it? She couldn’t even ignore a fucking kitten meowing! So it was hard – her feelings were difficult to work through and that was only worsened by her not seeing him. Playing house at Harry’s flat and ignoring what happened.

“Where’d you go?” Harry pulls her out of her reverie, and she realizes she’d been digging her fingers into the croissant she was holding, her eyes dazed. He drags his fingers along her skin again, tenderly, gently, “Hmm? Where’d my girl go?”

Y/N feels warm and bubbly and allows herself to revel in the giddiness that comes with Harry treating her like something special. If there was one single benefit from this whole mess, it would be Harry – experiencing this homely side of him. Whether it be the connection through their blood, or their time spent together, she felt at complete, and total ease in Harry’s presence. If she was starting to spiral, he pulled her out of it just as quickly.

“Sorry,” she murmured, swallowing, ripping a piece of the flaky pastry and laying it on her tongue – it tasted like nothing, chalky and bland, “I. . .need to figure things out with Niall soon. I can’t keep burdening you.”

“You’re no burden,” he answered without a second thought, “Not even a little bit, but I understand needing to sort things out for your peace of mind.” He reaches forward, thumbing at the apple of her cheek, and pinching playfully, “But you don’t need to leave just for that, hm? You’re no burden to me.”

Y/N rests on the palm of his cheek, sighing, and the smell of all the other humans in the place pales in comparison to Harry, “Mm,” she nuzzles – it’s embarrassing, how easy she is for him, but he doesn’t tease her like he probably could, “I just. . .I think, how I’m seeing it, is I would have done the same.” She explained, “If I’d seen someone, I would have done the same, you know?” Her gaze flickered toward him, “Would you?”

“I have,” he shrugged, “You know, it’s something that you never really know what you’ll do at the moment but when it’s presented in front of you – that’s when you’ll know. You act off instinct,” he squeezes her shoulder, slipping down to her bicep, “Just how you ran to go save Leaf with no concern of the sun. This isn’t me trying to sway you either,” he shook his head, “If you decided you fucking hated him and never wanted to see him again, I would endorse it. If you decide that you’ll forgive him, then I’ll accept that – whatever you want to do.”

Y/N nodded, “Yeah,” she ripped another piece of croissant, “Yeah, okay.”

. . .

Despite coming to terms with what she wanted to do, it still took her a week to gain the courage to see him. Harry doesn’t push the issue, merely enjoys his time with her and Leaf until she tells him she is ready. Honestly, there were a couple of times when Y/N wondered if she should just start ignoring it again and live life peacefully with Harry, or as peacefully as she could. But still, it weighed on her, like a Niall-shaped force that stretched himself over her and smothered her in her sleep. She had dreams of confronting him, some heartwarming and with a good outcome, some horrible that left her with tears bearding her eyes.

She needed to do it. If she did, then she could better focus on whatever the hell is going on between her and Harry. And being a vampire. . .big, important things like that.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she frowned and Harry waved his hand.

She laid her hands on his thighs, “I need to do it today,” she told him, and she didn’t have to be descriptive for Harry to know what she was talking about, “It’s gotta be today or I won’t.”

His gaze softened, the pale skin of his face smoothed over into something contemplative and understanding. There’s a soft sound that pulls from his throat, and his legs squeeze around her as he nods, “Okay,” he answered easily, “Do you want to ambush him or should I give him a heads up?”

“Will he run away if he knows I’m coming?”

Harry pursed his lips in thought, “You know, Niall isn’t one to run away,” he started, “But he also isn’t one to admit when he’s in the wrong either, and he’s done that, so I reckon some of the things I knew about him fundamentally might be wrong. He may flee from guilt alone or he’ll respect you enough to want to hear what you have to say.”

“Then you can let him know,” she took Leaf, scratching the soft, short furs beneath her chin, “If this is a friendship worth salvaging, then he’ll wait for me.”

The drive, which typically felt like an hour-long adventure out to the secluded space in which Mitch’s house resided, felt far quicker than it ever had before. Y/N thought it was because this time, she actually wanted it to go by slowly so that she had the chance to collect her thoughts and plan out exactly what she was going to say, and how she was going to say it. She needed the full forty-ish minutes (accounting rush hour) to develop her script, but Harry must be pressing the gas pedal right down to the floorboards because they zip through the roads in record time.

There’s a hazy, orange glow casting over the trees while the sun sank beyond the horizon, the other half of the sky blotching the inky black sky of a winter night. She wondered if there would be stars later on – there hadn’t been for the last couple of days because of clouds heavy with snow, that’s now freckling the earth and freezing up the soil. Y/N missed them – she feels like she hasn’t seen them in a while.

They roll up in front of the house, and Y/N thinks all of three seconds go by before a pouting Naomi rips the passenger door open, “Shame on Harry for keeping you all to himself,” she whined, and she unbuckling Y/N before Y/N could even gather her bearings, pulling her out of the car and into her arms. Naomi looks a bit frail but she’s got the strength of someone who’s prepared for war, and she gives Y/N a bone-crushing hug. “I’ve missed you!”

Y/N laughed lightly, squeezing her arms out from where they’d been trapped between their bodies so she could reciprocate the show of affection, “I missed you too,” she replied.

“Oi,” he grumbled, “I wasn’t keeping her to myself, I gave her a haven in a rough time.”

“You never let any of us come over besides Christopher!”

Harry crossed his arms, after pushing his sunglasses up into his hair, “Why would I want you heathens in my flat? The lot of you would trash the place or steal from me.”

“You’re just no good at sharing, you –”

Their voices fade into the background as Y/N leaves them to bicker, a tiny quirk at her lips like the muscles in her face want to smile but are thinking better than to. It was nice, sort of, to be back; to smell all the familiar scents, like she was returning home. This felt more like home than her flat did now, just from the sheer amount of time she’d spent here. She walked the familiar map from the front door, to her room, and nearly made a pitstop to give herself more time but muscled through the desire to. Y/N took the four more steps she needed to before knocking on Niall’s door – she could smell him in there.

“Come in.” His voice sounds stiff, and when she opens the door, the position he’s sitting in matches it. He must have heard her coming because he isn’t in the lax state he normally is – his legs are off the end of the mattress, feet firm on the floor. He sits straight, his face serious, stern. She’s so used to the nonchalant way he goes about that this is the most uncanny and makes her feel like an agent sent to question him, or a judge to sentence him. Y/N hated that, she doesn’t want it to be like that – she wants it to be normal between them. Or, normal-ish, at least.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her cat paw chair sitting at the foot of his bed. Niall followed her gaze and answered before she could even question it, “I – um – promise I wasn’t stealing that,” he replied, “I missed. . .you know – having it in here made me feel a little better. Which I know, I don’t deserve to feel good about what happened.”

Y/N ignored him, closed the door behind her, and then plopped down in the chair, resting her back on the pink, plush toe beans, “Get on the floor,” she ordered, patting the empty spot in front of her with her foot, “Please stop sitting so straight, it’s freaking me out.”

Niall is quick to crawl down on the floor in front of her, he relaxes his shoulders so they slump just a little, and he kicks his left leg out how he usually did when he was sprawled out on the floor of her room and they were talking. It brings some normalcy to the situation that Y/N desperately needs. She bites the inside of her bottom lip for a second before giving an unneeded clear of her throat (it was just a habit at this point, she wondered how long it would take for it to break).

“I’m just gonna come right out with it because I don’t want to beat around the bush, and if I do, I’ll just talk myself in circles until I don’t make any sense,” she started, “At first I was so mad at you I could have slapped you and spit on you and called you names. I was pretty sure that I never wanted to see you again and that I would be fine if you were completely wiped from my life,” he grimaces at the description but does nothing to refute it, “But you couldn’t have been wiped from my life, if I wasn’t living to begin with, which – I know, it gets a little confusing and convoluted. This life I have now is. . .odd, and different, and I’m not human anymore, and maybe by all technicalities I’m not alive, but I feel like I am.” She runs her thumbnail along the inside of her other palm, following the lines in them she’s had since birth, “I feel the world around me, and I can love, and I can talk, and laugh, and work, and cry. I can do all the things that I did before and then some, so even if it is different. . .I’m still alive. And I wouldn’t be had it not been for you.”

Niall is following along, motionless, soaking in every word, “I’m more upset that you kept it from me. It would have just been nice to know, right? What exactly had happened that night, it’d been plaguing my mind and you would ask every so often, and now I’m realizing it was less from a place of care and more you covering your tail.” She shrugged her shoulders when Niall’s face scrunched with shame, “But I can’t sit here and act like I would do something different. I don’t know what I would do, in a situation like that – I think, if I came across someone in my position, then I would have changed them too. I don’t really know how at this point, but I would have tried to figure it out. And I would have been scared, afterward, I don’t know if I would have told anyone either. But I thought we were close enough. . .at least a month in, I feel like you could have told me,” she sighed, “That’s what makes me angriest. I thought we were friends but you were just being nice to me because you felt bad.”

“That’s not true.” It was the first time he’d uttered a word since she began, “You – maybe at the start, I was a little more protective of you because I felt bad, but the rest of it – I truly felt friendship with you. Not all of it was a lie,” he shook his head, “I wanted to tell you, I did, but it never seemed like an opportune time to. And the one chance I did get, I chickened out. But I get it, if – if you need to be angry, be angry, I honestly wish you would just slap me or hit me or something, so it felt like I was getting punished for it.”

“I wanted to, believe me, but Harry was pretty convinced that you were punishing yourself enough for it. Listen, what I’m saying is,” she crawled off the cat paw, and took his hands in her own – they were smooth and ice cold – he probably hasn’t been eating well, “My feelings are very conflicted and confusing, and I don’t know if I forgive you entirely, but forgiveness isn’t out of the question. Do you get what I mean?” Niall hums his assent, “I know things can’t go back to the way they were entirely, but I’d like it if we could get somewhere close to it. And – and if you think about it, we’ll probably be around for decades, won’t we? I’m bound to get over it eventually.”

Niall and Y/N don’t really hug – Naomi is the touchy-feely type, and Y/N can be when she wants to be, but Niall is much more reserved with his affections. So that’s why she is tentative and a little hesitant in embracing him, slowly wrapping her arms around his neck, but she’s pleasantly surprised to feel him hug her back tightly, “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and his words vibrated through her throat, “I’m so sorry, thank you for even coming back to talk to me. I thought surely with Harry at your side, you would’ve hated my guts.”

“You would be surprised by this, but Harry went to bat for you pretty hard,” she peeled back just a little bit, “I mean, he didn’t try to change my opinion but his of you never faltered.”

Niall frowned, “Ugh, it’s so hard to keep up with hating him sometimes,” Y/N laughed, “Seriously, he’ll be the worst prick alive and then he does something unreasonably kind and it’s like. . .either be a dick, or be nice, I hate the mix-up.” He gently let his arms slip away from her but he remained close, “Speaking of, I’ve been eavesdropping on him and Mitch – they never hear me coming so I can always get away with knowing shite I shouldn’t – has he told you yet? About the whole blood thing?”

Y/N shook her head, and part of her was worried that Niall would save it for Harry to tell her, but she forgot that Niall is Niall, and through and through, he loved causing trouble for Harry at any given notice, “After Mitch’s initial displeasure that he’d been keeping it from him, he said there was something called ‘fated pairs’ or something like that. Your bodies call out to each other on a molecular level, something that was – predetermined the day you were both born. There was a lot of vampiric folklore nonsense that he spouted off, but he seemed pretty convinced. I don’t know why it affects you both in the way that it would make you horny, but, yeah. He said that it would’ve been the same if you were human – even if you were both humans, actually. That it was like a soul bond.”

It was a lot to take in; Y/N is relieved of one stress and then immediately another is placed on top of her. Was it stress though? She doesn’t feel stressed at the thought of them being bonded together by their souls – she doesn’t mind that – but she is stressed that maybe he minded that. Because as far as Harry was concerned, there was no rhyme or reason for their reaction to one another’s blood. Y/N hadn’t even known he’d spoken to Mitch about it, and so to find out he has and he didn’t even express the findings to her. . .worries her, a bit. Did he not like it? Was the thought of being tied to her horrible? But if it was then he wouldn’t have been so doting and cuddly these last few weeks, right?

“You look stressed,” he noted, “I would be too if I was bonded to that fucker, so I understand.”

Breathlessly, she laughs again, “He’s not so bad.”

. . .

Harry gets pretty clingy when Y/N goes back.

Though he’d promised that she wasn’t a bother, she still felt guilty to be inhabiting his home when he was at work. She’d been hearing him postpone different trips too, a couple of days in Italy, a fashion show in France – things that he always went to before, and she had a feeling it was because he didn’t want to leave her alone. It was sweet, but it made her feel guilty, so she decided it was okay to go back for a little while and reacclimate to the house.

It wasn’t so bad – going from Harry’s modern, high-tech flat to Mitch’s Victorian-style mansion was different but it isn’t horrible. Y/N liked being surrounded by people when Harry was at work or attending some smarmy event, instead of being alone. The only downside was there was a little Leaf-shaped hollow in her heart, but Harry describes shared custody and drops her off with Y/N when he knows he’s going to be out all day or if he does have to leave for one of those week-long trips.

The others act like she never left. She goes to the movie nights and nobody mentions what happened. Christopher gives her a big, long hug when he sees that she’s returned, then promptly warms her two mugs of “the sweetest blood” as a welcome home present. Naomi comes to inhabit Y/N’s bed and talks about pop culture and how Samuel is fucking someone who isn’t Theodore so that had been a lot of drama while she was away. Delphine starts to visit her room for Leaf – apparently, she’d grown up with a lot of barn cats, so she was very fond of them, and they find their shared love for animals as a link to start speaking more comfortably with each other. And wherever Delphine was, Saskia was close behind. Her past with cats was checkered because she had an allergy to them before, but being a vampire meant eradicating all allergies, so she hesitantly gave Leaf a pet or two.

Leaf, all tiny and soft, loves the extra attention.

Niall still comes to her room but not without being invited first. Y/N thinks eventually this will change, but it seems like he doesn’t want to smother her with his presence, though Y/N wouldn’t find it smothering at all. He’s still hesitant, and she gets it – Y/N liked that he respected her enough to let her decide if she was in the right headspace to see him that day or not.

The only person who takes it hard and acts like it is the worst thing in the world is Harry. He never goes three days without coming to see her, and when he isn’t with her, he’s messaging her and calling her, asking if she wants to FaceTime in between flights. When he does come, he poses a strict, “Nobody bothers us” rule where he threatens to move her dresser in front of the door to ward off “unwanted” intruders (though they could all probably move the dresser anyway, they’re very strong). He crawled into her bed and pulled her into his body, dragging the blankets over them, “You smell too much like the others,” he’d grumble, resting his chin on the top of her head, “Hate it.”

“You’re silly,” she’d respond but soaked in the snuggling happily — it used to be something they merely indulged in while she was asleep; before, Harry would only ever kind of curl around her or pet her or hold her when she was all blood drunk and full, seconds from slumber. Now he’s much more open and willing to do it whenever – when they were watching the telly, when they were on the ground and Y/N was painting her nails (“I should sit behind you, yeah? You can sit between my legs, and when you’re done with one hand, I’ll blow on your fingers to dry them,”) if they were outside on the deck, practicing whatever Harry had come up with for the day.He crowds her space like he was made to. If Harry was there, they’re glued at the hip, and that was just normal now.

Y/N wondered if he would ever bring up the whole bond thing, but he seemed content not to. Still, it didn’t seem to deter him from letting her snack on his blood, which she sure only furthers the whole thing. So maybe he wasn’t concerned with it – maybe he was just seeing where it went. Y/N isn’t sure, but she’s usually good at ignoring things. If the other party didn’t want to talk about it then she wouldn’t either, it was never in her nature to press for answers.

. . .when she was a human, at least. Being a vampire hasn’t changed her at a fundamental level, she doesn’t believe, but it has given her a new outlook on life, and a different perspective on some things. It was better to ask and get an answer that she didn’t want rather than continue not knowing something for sure. If she’d lived by that rule in the past it would have probably saved her a lot of trouble.

So Y/N asks him outright, Leaf curled in her lap in a tiny furry heap, and Harry with his arms curled around Y/N’s body protectively. Nobody else was in the den – they were either in their rooms or out and about (with a strict curfew now, because of the whole thing between her and Niall – Mitch blamed himself for giving them a little too much freedom being newly presented). Harry suggested they utilize the tv then, instead of trying to watch it on her laptop screen. Harry tells her they should be at his flat, but since he was supposed to go three hours away for a photoshoot tomorrow, he didn’t want to leave her alone (it turns out he’d been postponing more than she had initially thought so now he was playing catch up – something about Spring deadlines and all of that).

The screen clears as the next episode of the show they’re watching loads up, and maybe it isn’t the best timing or the best place to do it, but she has to ask before she loses her nerve.

“Are we a. . .fated pair? Is that what it’s called?”

She feels Harry stiffen behind her, his hold around her arms tightening only slightly as he processes what she’d just inquired. There aren’t a lot of things that could stun Harry, as long as he’s been around he normally has a response to anything and everything within a couple of seconds – but he sits with this for a little longer. His fingers, where they’d rested on her waist, began to play with the fabric of her shirt, plucking at the hem and fiddling with the stitches. The tension in the air is palpable, but it isn’t a horrible tension. Not something she wanted to run away from, at least.

“Niall,” Harry finally muttered, like he’d been spending half of the time he was silent, trying to figure out how Y/N would have heard that, “That fucker is too good at masking his presence.”

“Harry –”

“I know,” he exhales, and Y/N thinks it’s funny that he does things like this not because he’s releasing a breath, but to express how he’s feeling. He nudges the side of her head with his own and dips his nose into the curve of her throat, his favorite spot, “With you at my flat, and with how you’d been eating from me still, the – how I felt for you was becoming concerning and a little obsessive. Not in like an obsessive “I’m going to kill her so nobody else can have her” way, more like a “I want to be near her and I’m forgoing responsibilities to spend time with her” kind of way. I don’t do that, for people, I’m not. . .so giving with my time, which makes me sound like a dick, but it’s the truth. I have my time and they have theirs, even if it’s someone that I’m interested in,” he slides his fingers beneath her shirt’s fabric, his nails tracing circles into her skin, “But with you, I just. . .wanted to be around you. To be with you makes me feel calm; it soothes me like putting ice on a sprain. And for you to drink from my vein and our bodies react so intensely to it. . .well, it had to be something.”

“I was glad to ignore it and just continue enjoying myself with you, but I was getting curious. And I knew you and Niall would make up soon, and you’re so concerned about being a burden all of the time, I knew you wouldn’t take me up on my offer to stay with me. This meant I was going to be coming around her, and being way more possessive and clingy than I ever have before and Mitch always knows what’s going on in the house. He would ask me about it eventually, so I just beat him to it.” He lifted his head, and his words were less muffled when he coaxes her to lean back against his chest more, “He went into the most intricate, convoluted discussion about molecules, and vampiric folklore, and I’ll be honest most of it went right over my fucking head, except for him saying that we were bound together by our souls. That whether we had met like this, or centuries ago in my village, while I was running from war, or had I just been some random UNI student sitting beside you in class – we would always have this kind of connection. It’s rare,” he squeezes her hips, “It’s a rare thing, a really rare thing, and it used to happen more often back in the 1600s but that doesn’t mean it never happens now.”

Y/N cranes her neck to face him, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her brows pinched toward the center, and Harry reached out, using his thumb to press at the crinkle in her skin and smooth it out.

“I wanted to, but – I don’t know. I kind of wanted you to conclude for yourself, if you liked me or not. I didn’t want it to feel forced because you knew about this. Other than my blood making you a filthy, horny little thing, I don’t know exactly what your feelings are for me. And I know – you told me you feel whole after you drink from me, but again, outside of that – outside of the blood, I don’t know how you feel.”

Y/N thinks, that if she’d eaten recently, blood would be roaring in her ears and her heart would be thudding something fierce in her chest. It was one thing to have Niall tell her on a whim, it was another thing for Harry to admit it to her, all shy, avoiding her gaze and pressing tight and close to her body. It was another thing to hear him feel insecure about not knowing how she felt about him.

Because for Y/N, she’d thought she’d been incredibly obvious. She wanted to be around him always, she recognized his scent out of everyone anywhere, she felt safe when his hands were on her in some way, or even when he was just nearby. Even when he was short with her, or grumpy, Y/N had felt endlessly at ease. After what happened at the club, he was the only person she wanted to be around. The way her heart lights up when he calls her sweet names, or when she sees him for the first time in a while. How her whole mind swam at the prospect of him rather hurting his hands than letting anyone else see her vulnerable when she’d been in the sun. No matter when he lost his patience, or when he seemed upset, or even when he swore up and down that he shouldn’t be a mentor – he was supportive, tender, and made her head feel melty and her insides gossamer soft.

“I have plenty of reason to like you, outside of some bond,” she finally replied, wiggling in his arms to face him again – Leaf got up, stumbled out of her lap, then stretched with a silent yawn, “And it wasn’t just after eating. Just being with you makes me feel. . .complete, just as I said before. I thought it was just the blood, but when you leave for work and we’re separated, there’s a – it’s noticeable, the gape I feel in your absence.” Y/N curled her fingers up in his shirt, “I mean, how I feel for you, surpasses how I ever felt for Daniel, my old friend. As dramatic as it is, I’d thought I would never be able to love again –”

“Oh, you humans and your theatrics,” he murmured with a laugh and Y/N smiled shyly, looking away.

“-- but the way I’ve felt about you lately, I just don’t think whatever puppy love crush I had on him scratches the surface. Sorry, I wasn’t clear about it. I’d been so focused on trying to figure out my place in this world again and how to live life like this, that I hadn’t given myself a chance to sit and sort through my emotions. But they’re there – they’re real and scary.”

Harry kisses her – she wasn’t expecting it, but she’d completely turned around in his lap by then so at least the angle wasn’t horrible. His lips are soft, and without the preface of something lewd, it is saccharine and chaste. Y/N shivered, her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into him, practically molding herself into the shape of his body. It was good – Harry’s been treating her delicately for a while now, but this was different. Like he was kissing something important to him. Something that he wanted to handle with softhearted gloves.

When they part, Harry kisses the corner of her mouth, then her right cheek, her temple, over her forehead, and down the other side of her face. They’re feather-light and ticklish but his arms cage her in so she couldn’t wiggle away, helpless but to giggle. Once he finishes, he hums low and their eyes meet.

“I’ll be keeping you, so get used to this.” He admitted, and if he’d eaten recently, then his cheeks would have flushed pink the way they do anytime he’s sentimental.

Y/N nodded and hid herself in his chest.

She didn’t mind that at all.

. . .

Harry couldn’t wait to see her.

He used to take great pleasure in his week to two-week-long trips out of the country for work, whether he was going to Dubai, Milan, Paris, or other places like it. Harry would gorge on international feeders and sex and all the adoration from people who question his otherworldly beauty and get lost in his sharp gaze. It was nice to be sought after, admired, to get his fill of all the blood he wanted. He thought it was a fair trade, for all those years ago, when he’d been scrawny and worthless to everyone.

However, now? He just can’t wait to get home. Without the sex and the gorging, there actually wasn’t a whole lot to do in any of those spots that he hadn’t done thousands and thousands of times before. It was work, strictly work, and there was no sort of pleasure, apart from the gratification of seeing one of his looks trek down the runway. Besides that, there was only one person he wanted to sleep with now, one person he wanted to be adored by, and only one person he wished to get lost in his gaze.

And she was thousands of kilometers away from him, probably coding some program that made no sense to his brain, in his sweatshirt that he made her promise to wear and those horrific (and endearingly cute) slippers shaped like cats that she picked up from the store in honor of Leaf (who liked to chew on them when Y/N wiggled her toes). Even on the plane ride back home, he wondered how he could make it quicker – if there was a way to travel even faster than a plane. He supposes he could run, his legs are quite fast, but if someone spotted him going a little too fast to be human, then that would be a whole other list of shit to deal with instead of just tucking himself into Y/N’s side.

So as soon as he was finished up, the models had gone home, he’d given his statement for editorials, and he’d shared one glass of wine with a designer he really couldn’t be arsed to learn the name of (he’d drank with types like Chanel and Dior in the past, so the glitz and glamor of it now are easily lost on him) – Harry was on a plane and headed home. He used the in-flight wifi to watch a movie Y/N had suggested to him, but he was barely paying attention. How could he, when he was so excited to get home to her?

It was crazy to think this was where their relationship had ended up. She used to be nothing but an obnoxious little thorn in his side and now all he wants to do is smother her with affection and give her his blood. Y/N was so important to him, it made his heart feel heavy and full for the first time in. . .well, he isn’t sure it’s ever felt this heavy and full before. The weight in his chest is unfamiliar, and at first, it had been unwelcomed, but he likes it now. It’s as if she’d curled her body around it and took residence there. She’s always with him, in that sense of it.

The others had gotten used to it far quicker than he’d imagined they would. He expected more teasing as well, but they all like Y/N a lot, so he guesses to tease him is to tease her indirectly and they don’t want to. The most he gets is scolded that he isn’t good at sharing, and why should he be? Harry feels like he’d spent centuries waiting for her, now that he has her – doesn’t he deserve to be a little selfish? Especially after a week of not seeing her, Harry just wants her all to himself. That’s why he suggested that she come to his flat the first day he’s back, so they could be alone.

So he’s more than happy, after the flight, after getting his shit from baggage claim and finding his car in the mass of other vehicles parked for overnight trips, and the 30-minute long drive from the airport to his flat – to see her just as he’d envisioned her. Only with a few additions; she wore the sweatshirt, and she had on these little shorts that were filthy (but she swore up and down she wore them because they were comfortable and not to taunt him with how little it would take before her bum was out), but tucked under her thigh was Leaf’s feather toy. Whenever Y/N was working, Leaf could go from sleeping peacefully at her side to the zoomies in all of three seconds, so this was her way of keeping her preoccupied – the stick was placed just precisely so that the feather and the string hung off the side of the couch for Leaf to jump and pull at. Y/N has pretty decent thigh muscles so she’s able to keep it in place without letting it move around too much.

She has those horrible little booties on, but she’s wrapped up in the throw blanket that Harry usually has wrapped around him – not for warmth, of course, but the way soft fibers feel against his skin is nice. He knows Y/N is not using it for that purpose because it touches nowhere that her skin shows, besides a little bit of her face. Y/N has it so close to her so that she can smell him, and Harry is just. . .so endeared by that he could scream.

When he walked through the door, Y/N turned to face him with a big grin. She slid her computer out of her lap, and Leaf’s toy fell to the ground once she stood, carefully stepping over the kitten, and getting up on the other sofa so she could climb over it. She gets to him quicker this way, and her arms slink around his neck, and she holds him close, “Finally,” she murmured, “A week is too long.”

“You could always come with me.” He smiled into her hair, letting his eyes close – it was good to have her in his arms again, “I don’t think they’d mind a puppy backstage.”

Y/N peeled away from him, flicking him in the center of his chest, “Shut up,” she threw at him, but it held no real spite, and her eyes were dripping in mirth, “Should I dress myself then show up?”

“Oh, baby, please don’t – let me be the one to dress you.”

It was nice, that back and forth, and had Harry not felt so keyed up then he probably would have started a load of laundry, showered, gotten in more comfortable clothes and they could have just hung out for the night.

But Harry was keyed up – a week away from Y/N meant a week away from not only her beautiful brain, but her beautiful body as well, and he was missing the sounds she’d make when his fingers slid against her. How easy she was to rile up, the way she tasted on his tongue, how dripping wet she got from even just a little bit of Harry’s blood in her. It’s precisely why he’d eaten so much before leaving, and he’s sure she could tell he’d just eaten recently, with how warm his cheeks felt they must be rosy. And that flush on his pale skin is clear as day, especially how it slithers down his throat, and if he’s really worked up, it might splotch his chest.

“When’s the last time you ate, Sweetheart?” He inquired – the icy little tip of her nose was enough to tell him it had been a while.

“Mm, I had some earlier, when I woke up,” she explained, “But I got distracted with work, so I haven’t since.”

Normally, Harry might chide her for that, but he’s all too excited to offer his throat, “I have a treat for you then,” he placed his hands on her hips, walking her backward, “Get on the couch.”

Where Y/N used to start on the side of his body and eventually make her way into his lap while she ate, she just crawled into his lap now to cut out the unnecessary jostling around. The weight of her in his lap is familiar, nice, and something he didn’t realize that he missed until he was away from her. She stretches her thighs on either side of him and scoots in very close; Harry is already half hard, and he isn’t sure if he’d been like this since he saw her, or on the plane when he’d even just thought about her. Whatever it was and whenever it was, he was definitely already getting hard just from the anticipation of her teeth in his neck. It felt like young adulthood all over again, when it wasn’t “mind over matter”, and Harry couldn’t help but get hard in three seconds from one thought.

“I missed you,” she tells him, pressing her chest up against his, her nipples were already hard and Harry felt dizzy with the want burgeoning up from deep in his belly, “So much, and you were only gone for a week. It’s a little embarrassing.”

“I miss you when I leave you alone for an hour,” he slides his hand on the nape of her neck and brings her closer, “Isn’t embarrassing. I’m flattered that you like me enough to miss me, even. Now take what you need, baby, I ate enough to fill you up.”

The slide of her teeth into his skin never gets old, especially when it’s his throat. There’s a bite of pain, immediately soothed over by the euphoric feeling of it not only being a vampire bite, but a Y/N bite. The way she goes about it is still so tentative to start, and unsure, like she’s worried about hurting him – but the moment she tastes his blood on her tongue, all that vanishes. She moaned against his neck like she’d been starving for months and he’d finally come to save her, her fingers digging into his body wherever her hands lie. Harry can feel her inhibitions leave her, the way she gulps, drinks him down, and takes her fill how he wants her to.

It’s always after a minute that Y/N’s body starts to move out of tandem with her. She hates that she starts rutting against him like an overexcited puppy, but that doesn’t stop the way her hips twitch and push closer to him while she’s eating. Harry’s hand slid from her neck, to meet his other at her hips, holding her still as she rolled her hips into him greedily. “Mm, it feels good, doesn’t it, baby? Especially after not having it for so long,” Harry shuddered, closing his eyes as he melted into the feeling, “I bet your pussy is already soaked.”

Y/N whines, and he can only imagine how debauched the scene must look from an outsider's perspective. Her hands slip under his shirt, fingers tracing along his stomach and when the muscles in his abdomen tense up, his cock throbs to match. Harry’s fully hard now, and he thinks he’s already leaking, dripping into the inside of his trousers because he was always one to forgo underwear when it caused lines in his pants. Y/N lines herself up with him, tucking him into the folds because her pussy just swallows these shorts up, and rolls into him, “That’s it,” he whispered, “Such a good girl, you can have anything you want.”

The times she bites his throat aren’t always for pleasure. Harry still tries to prepare her for the first time she will meet with a feeder, so each time Y/N eats she gets better and better. She’s learned to stop when she’s full and to not overstuff herself just because it tastes good. She also has learned to read the queues of the other person, that she might have had too much – it’d be different for a human, but she can tell by the way Harry might start feeling even a degree less warm than he began as.

He isn’t sure what coaxes her to stop today. She pulled away from his neck and lulled her tongue over the little puncture wounds in his skin, before moving so she faced him. Y/N made a pretty sight with her hazy eyes and her mouth stained red. Before he could spend too much time admiring her, she fixes her lips against his, slips her tongue into his mouth, and oh fuck.

She’d kept some of his blood in her mouth, so it filled his own when she kissed him, and his eyes all but rolled up to the back of his head. Who had taught her something so filthy? His cock throbs so hard in his pants and he’s leaking so much precum he’s wondered if he’s cum already – he’s sure it’s sticky and webby beyond belief around the head of his cock, and Y/N isn’t helping the matter, she’s just making it worse.

Harry takes her by the chin, parts her lips, and makes sure they stay open. Without having to instruct her, she presses the tip of her tongue to her bottom lip, waiting patiently – normally Harry places a couple of fingers on her tongue for her to suck and bite at, so he presumes that’s what she was expecting. But Harry couldn’t help himself, and if Y/N was going to be filthy, then he was going to be filthier, so he encased her tongue and her bottom lip with his mouth and suckled at it. When Y/N mewls, he takes more of her in, sucking the taste of him off her tongue while he pries at her little shorts. He was in no mood for her to get off his lap to wiggle them down, so he tore them, shredding the fabric.

She makes a startled sound, mixed with a moan when Harry slips his tongue back into her mouth to kiss her properly again. Harry’s head spins when he backs away from her – they could kiss forever without needing to take a single breath (or they would be able to one day when Y/N really didn’t need to use her lungs anymore), but Harry wanted to look at her. Want to see her with lips bitten red and swollen, filled with blood that Harry kind of wants to knick with his tooth and drink from. He presses at her chest just a little so she stretches back, and he gathers the fabric at the bottom of her shirt in between his thumb and index finger, pressing it up her quivering belly.

Her pussy is puffy and swollen and soaking wet, he would’ve thought she’d been touching herself before he’d come home. He can’t tell if he wants to bury his face or his cock into it more, but another hard throb suggests he’d better do the latter or he would cum hard in his pants. He uses his fingers to spread her open, showing off the engorged bud of her clit, chuckling brightly when it pulses beneath his attention. Harry is unsure what drives him to sink his fingers lower, get three of them wet then return to her clit to slap it, but he does, and the payoff is Y/N trying to close her legs around him with the most wanton of sounds. He does it again, a little harder, and Y/N’s hand comes to grab his wrist, “I’ll cum,” she whines like that was supposed to deter him, “I’ll cum if you keep going.”

“Isn’t that the point?” He murmured, sliding his fingers through her juices and tucking them up inside of her, petting at her g-spot for a second before slipping them back out and licking her off his hand, “Want you to cum.”

“I wanna cum with you in me,” she sounded like she was pleading with him, and Harry had always been a sucker for pretty girls begging, “Please?”

Harry’s quick to work the button of his trousers open, pulling the zip and removing his cock from the oppressive confines of it. He’s harder than he’d even thought, but he was right to assume that he’d leaked so much precum it looked like he’d cum. The clear fluid oozes from the tip in a long, sticky line, filling up the dip of his hip bone. Y/N ogles him with awe-filled eyes, “Whoa,” she swallowed thickly, her fingers tracing up the underside from his balls to the tip, in a move he doesn’t think she means to be as teasing as it is, “You’re really hard.”

“I know,” he bites down hard on his bottom lip as he throbs again, under her attention, in the coolness of the air.

“Like, harder than I’ve ever seen you,” she states, and now her palm slides against his shaft, and she squeezes experimentally, looking between him and his cock, “And you’re so wet –”

“Y/N,” he just barely holds back from whimpering, “No teasing, Darling, I need to fuck this into you or I’ll cum all over myself. You don’t want to waste it, do you?” He inquired, and Y/N shook her head, scooting closer, “Yeah, let me fill you up, Baby, want to watch it fucking drip out of you when we’re done.”

She visibly shivered again, and Harry helped her lift and slide his cock inside of her. Y/N moans, her face pinches up from the pressure of him against her walls but she slips right on down like he belonged inside of her. Harry thinks Y/N likes the stretch – the burn of it, as long as it doesn’t border on too painful. She bottoms out, her arms wrapped around his neck, and she smushes their lips together. The kiss is brief before she nips at his plush bottom lip and sucks it into her mouth. While she does that, Harry presses his upper lip just above hers, his fingers digging into her thighs as she squeezes around him, accommodating his size. Her walls were velvety soft and smooth as they contract around him, the ridges and bumps something he’s set on memorizing.

Her ministrations with her mouth go to his chin, she kisses then bites her way down his jaw, to his ear, laving her tongue over the little wounds that were no doubt closing and healing over by now. Harry offers her his hand when he realizes that she must want to bite something, and he’d made the right assumption when she fits his knuckles between her teeth and chews on him. Harry laughs as she starts to lift her hips, then drops back down onto him, “You’re so fucking cute,” he chuckled, “Should we get you a chew toy? A little bone for a puppy like you?”

“Shut up,” her words are muffled around his fingers in her mouth but she’s riding him well. It feels so fucking good, Harry is holding onto every last bit of strength not to cum before her. A damning feat to accomplish when she finds the angle that hits that bundle of nerves inside of her just right – she clamps down on him, her eyes bead with tears as she fucks down onto him, and nibbles at his fingers.

“Do you feel good, Baby? S’my cock stretching you out nice?” Y/N nodded, whining, “You can cum for me. Don’t you want that? Cum on me and I’ll fill this little pussy right up.”

Harry shoves the sweatshirt up so it rests just above her bare tits, or at least enough that he can visualize them and then get one into his mouth. Her nipples are still hard, so pert and sensitive for him when he pulls them between his teeth and lulls his tongue in big circles around them. Harry alternates between sucking hard and flicking his tongue, and Y/N goes from chewing on his knuckles to holding them uselessly in her mouth and moaning around them. Harry feels her start to cum before she can even tell him through these breathy little whines.

He isn’t ashamed to say he starts cumming before she could finish – he makes sure to work her through it still, fucking through the point of overstimulation, his thumb lulling on her clit when he raised his feet onto the coffee table and started to fuck into her. Harry fills her up, his orgasm splinters through him so intensely that he thinks his vision whites out for a second. He’s throbbing so hard inside of her, he knows she could feel it each time, and in response to each one, she mewls and sighs as she finally starts to come down from her own high.

Harry untucks his face from her chest just as Y/N drops his fingers from her mouth. He’s still tucked inside of her but his cum slicks out from around where his cock is plugging her up, too much of it to even keep inside. The feeling is a little atrocious as it cools, but the thought of what it must look like almost has him stiffening up again.

Y/N all but collapsed onto him, and Harry oofs! dramatically, before wrapping her up in his arms. Her arms moved to hug around his waist this time, and she murmured something on his shoulder that he couldn’t quite make out. She turns her head, so her cheek rests against his shoulder instead, “I said I really missed you,” she repeated, “I’m happy you’re back home.”

A lot of responses run through Harry’s head, including, but not limited to I’m happy you’re here with me, I’m happy you’re in my life, I’m happy my cum is dripping out of you right now, I’m happy that our fates matched in this way, I’m happy that we have a kitten name Leaf, I’m happy our souls are bound together.

Harry doesn’t though. He thinks them, and he smiles to himself when he replies with something that he’s pretty sure covers all of that.

“I’m happy too.”

#WOOOOOOO #OKAY YAY #SORRY IT TOOK LONG #I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT!#I REMEMBERED THE TONGUE SUCKING!!!#WRITING #HARRY STYLES SMUT #HARRY SMUT #YAHTZEEE #OKAY #HOPE YOU LOVE IT #LOVE YOU

1K notes · View notes

neolxzr · 6 months

Text

OK so heres some of my favorite things that were talked about during the enter the florpus commentary thing yesterday:

one of jhonen's favorite things in the whole movie is the writing in zim's kitchen that says "do anything is real?"

they clarified specifically that gir was not lying and he did in fact eat a baby at the crazy taco

gir smells REALLY bad. theres like rotting organic matter in his body at all times. he stinks

zim's human suit is made out of actual human skin

zim is acting drunk on nacho cheese during that scene in his house because richard horvitz recorded it while drunk

they planned to have this whole thing with tak's ship only agreeing to go to moo-ping 10 because it knows tak is there. they wouldve shown her in silhouette during that brief explosion and she wouldve stowed away on the ship without anyone knowing and then wouldve shown up towards the end of the movie, but they decided to cut it out

zim did not need to frame membrane for a crime in order to get him into space prison and likely just tossed the guards like 5 bucks for it. its a shady place. they did specify though that if he did frame him for something, it would have been jaywalking

they pointed out during that scene where zim is celebrating peace day on dib's lawn that zim's reaction to seeing dib was very much genuine and that's just how his brain works. he is genuinely surprised to see him pop out of his own house. (they also described his reaction as like "being surprised to see your best friend")

the ham joke was ABSOLUTELY CRITICAL to the film and at some point jhonen remembered it and was like GUYS. WE ALMOST FORGOT THE HAM

there was supposed to be this joke where it cuts to and from gaz and dib in tak's ship and they would've had to stop at like a warp station or something and theyd be waiting in a long queue of spaceships and the radio is broken in the ship so theyre stuck listening to that one song. then itd cut to them like totally braindead drooling from listening to it for so long. and then a little later itd cut back a FINAL time and theyd know all of the words and both be singing along to it. but this was also cut out so only the last bit remained

when asked "who would win: minimoose or mrs. bitters?" the answer was along the lines of "neither, i think all of us lose in that scenario"

the tallest are just two dudes who happen to be the same height and therefore have to share the same job. they are not brothers and they are also not gay lovers ("as much as you want them to be, they are not. there is no love in this universe")

skooge is in fact alive and lives in zim's basement. they wanted to keep the number of "hey remember this thing from the tv show!" moments to a minimum so he was not mentioned in the movie. but he is there

#cryn rambles #invader zim #this is based pretty much entirely off of my memory btw Sorry i was not taking notes #im sure people will be uploading clips and stuff i saw people recording on their phones at different points #but i was not one of them. my phone was already like 3/4ths of the way dead when i walked in #also zadf real ANYWAYYY #kinda obsessed w jhonen's rapr shade LMAO #the whole thing was fucking hysterical im so glad i was able to go #anyways. there was so much more but these were some of my favs or just ones i thought were notable #also jhonen was excited for alan wake 2 today. my friend (big alan wake fan) was very excited to hear this info #iz tag

654 notes · View notes

auteurdelabre · 21 days

Text

SOMETHING TO FIGHT FOR - VIGNETTE #3

SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T READ SOMETHING TO FIGHT FOR

RATING: PG

tags: Pregnancy, Talk of pregnancy anxieties, fluff, Joel being sweet, Sarah being the sweetest.

Summary: As requested from my comment section on a03: You find out your pregnant and tell Joel.

a/n: To all of you who send me messages on here and leave comments about my STFF story to this day, know that y'all have my heart in your hands and this is for you.

----------------------------------------------

You find out during your monthly girl’s night with Maria huddled under blankets, a glass of wine forgotten on the table and plenty of magazines spread over your laps. You’re very interested in the home repair ones now, similar to Maria. She’s thinking of installing a games room in the basement (your former apartment). Joel has mentioned something about doing some built-ins for the kitchen and the thought delights you.

“Isn’t it so nice to be married to handy men?” you muse with a dreamy smile as you flip through the glossy pages.

“It really is,” Maria replies equally dreamy. She hears the gentle thud and shriek from upstairs and smirks. “Tommy’s putting Jackson to bed but we’re weaning him from his soother.”

“Good luck, Tommy.”

The two of you giggle before swapping magazines, pointing out fixtures you like, dreaming about perfect kitchens and listening to Maria catch you up on Jackson, the wild toddler who keeps both she and Tommy on their toes. You love hearing about Jackson, since you’re his favorite person (aside from his parents). You and Joel often babysit for Maria when she and Tommy need a night off. Nights spent watching movies with Sarah on one end of the couch next to you and a dozing toddler between you and Joel make you feel strangely contented.

“We’re thinking of having another one,” Maria says with a coy grin.

You slap her thigh under the blanket excitedly. Thoughts of them expanding their family makes your heart squeeze with joy.

“Really?”

“Yeah, are we insane? One is already enough work.”

“No!” you insist joyfully. “That’s so w-“

Before you can answer properly a wave of nausea goes through you. Maria’s eyes go wide as you fling the blanket from your legs and go staggering to the washroom. You barely make it in before you’re throwing up into the sink. Maria is there to hold your hair back, waiting until you’ve finished before running the sink and cleaning your mouth.

“Where did that come from?” she muses. “Food poisoning?”

“I don’t think so,” you insist, wiping at your damp mouth. “It’s like all of a sudden I just felt sick.”

“Nervous about anything? Work?”

“No, work’s great.”

“And Sarah? Joel?”

“Perfect,” you answer honestly. “I don’t remember ever being this happy.”

“Hmmmm,” Maria nods as you shakily make your way out of the washroom. She gives you a short laugh. “Pregnant?”

You start to laugh along with her before you pause. Like bullets to your brain you’re assaulted with the memory of Joel coming to your office to fuck your brains out. Unprotected, excited at the thought of getting pregnant. But it never happens on the first try! The percentages of that is so low! Everyone knows that… right?

When you don’t reply right away Maria turns, brows raised. “Something you’re not telling me?”

“Uh…”

“Get back in there,” Maria says, ushering you back into the bathroom. She drops to her knees and retrieves a box from the far back under the counter. A pregnancy test. She thrusts it into your hands and grins widely.

“Hope you have to pee.”

---

Ten minutes later you and Maria stare at the dual lines on the pregnancy test.

“You’re pregnant.”

“Holy shit.”

“You’re gonna have a baby.”

“Holy fuck.”

All of a sudden Maria gives a large shriek of excitement, pulling you into her arms and jumping.

“Wait, no, shhhh,” you insist, not wanting Tommy to hear. “I don’t want anyone else knowing before Joel. Don’t say anything to anyone until I give you the go ahead.”

“Oh of course,” Maria nods, her eyes bright with excitement. “How are you gonna tell him?”

You pause, thinking of all the romantic gestures Joel has thrown your way during both your courtship and your marriage. It has to be something special, something memorable.

Joel deserves the best.

///

The next morning you sit at the kitchen table with your coffee and a piece of paper covered in your scribbles. You look down critically at your list, frowning.

1. Put actual bun in oven. Cheesy??

2. World's greatest Dad Mug? Where would I get it done ASAP?

3. Scavenger hunt?

You've worked on this stupid thing all morning while Joel went into the office and nothing on it looks good. It turns out grand gestures aren’t really your natural style. The thought seems daunting at best.

You considered having Sarah tell him, but you want to tell Sarah together. You want Joel to be a part of sharing that with her.

You hear tiny feet making their way down the stairs and you quickly ball the useless list up into a ball before throwing it into the garbage can.

"Hi Mama," Sarah says padding into the kitchen with a sleepy smile. She's wearing polar bear pyjamas tonight, ones you got her for Christmas. She's growing faster than expected, her ankles already showing.

"Morning."

She wraps her tiny arms around your middle, squeezing gently as you hold her. You rock gety from side to side before you smile down at her, pushing a curl of hair from her large eyes. You curl, pressing a warm kiss to the top of her head.

"Have good dreams, bug?"

"Yeah," Sarah insists with a bright smile up at you. She follows you around to the oven, standing at your hip and chatting away.

Joel is normally the Sunday morning pancake maker, but on the odd weekend he's busy with work you take over kitchen duties. Thankfully he had the batter already prepped and waiting because you are a shit chef. It took you weeks before you stopped burning each one.

You lift the waiting Sarah and place her on the nearby counter to watch. You love these little traditions you share with her. Every year you feel a little bit more like her mother, every time she calls you Mama or requests it be you that kisses her scraped knee better, every moment she clings to your hips or draws you a picture makes your heart squeezes with adoration for her.

"So what did you dream about?"

You place a small bowl of blueberries on the counter for her to snack on as she jiggles her legs absently as she tries to recall her dream.

"I dreamed that there was a zoo and me and daddy we went but the animals were all gone," she says taking a handful of blueberries and chewing. "And we had churros but-but they were bad and uh..."

"Uh huh," you say politely even though your mind is a billion miles away.

"And I dreamed that I could fly over, um, up over the school and-and," Sarah stumbles over her words to get the story out. "You remember like in that movie where the guy flies in the car?"

"Oh yeah."

"Like that guy. Plus I dreamed I had a little sister and she didn't wear the hat I gave her."

This gives you a start. You whip your head to face her fully, the pancake temporarily forgotten.

"You dreamt you had a little sister?"

"Yeah," Sarah pops another blueberry into her mouth, her tongue already stained blue. "She was so cute and small."

Your heart jumps into your throat.

"What was that like?" You ask, trying to be subtle as you go back to flipping the pancake. "Did you like being a big sister?"

"It was only a dream mama," Sarah tells you with a good natured laugh, as if you're a silly fool who doesn't know the difference. "I don't have a sister."

"Of course," you say with a smile, dishing the pancake onto Sarah's plate. "Mama was just being silly."

///

MARIA: Have u told him yet??

Not yet. I just got the official confirmation from the doctor yesterday.

MARIA: C'mon!! I'm dying to tell Tommy! It's been A WEEK!

Just wait. I need to make it perfect.

MARIA: Just fucking tell him!!!!!!

The truth is you have no idea how to tell Joel. The entire thing seems strangely stressful and you wish you could be as naturally romantic as he is. You gaze at him over breakfast, taking in the curls that fall into his forehead, the strong line of his jaw and nose. And that’s not even the sexiest thing about him! He’s so kind, so patient, so fucking loving.

"You know the spare room upstairs?" Joel says not noticing how distracted you are. "I was thinkin' of turning it into a playroom for Sarah. Might mean havin' to put some stuff down in your office to store if that’s okay by you."

Your body tenses.

But that's where the baby will go.

"I was actually thinking we could turn it into an extra bedroom," you offer quickly. Joel glances up from his coffee, brows quirked.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"What do you want that done for?"

"To have a guest room," you lie. "When Jackson gets bigger he'll need somewhere to sleep, right? Not just a portable crib. And what if my mom comes to visit?"

"Suppose so, yeah." Joel takes a look around the room with a critical eye as if just seeing his kitchen for the first time. "Maybe we need more space."

You're not paying attention to that last murmured comment. All you can fixate on is the fact that in nine short months you're going to have a baby.

A baby. Pregnant.

A wave of nausea hits you again, but you manage to excuse yourself without raising any alarm.

///

It's not until that Saturday that things go pear shaped.

You rise with a yawn and a stretch, your hand absently stroking down your midsection. How strange to imagine it swollen with life, your son or daughter.

"Mornin' baby," Joel greets you from behind with a sleepy growl. The kind of sound that hits you below the navel.

You roll to face him, your cheeks flushed. He's so sexy in the morning with his tussled hair and sleepy eyes. Your love for him feels overwhelming at this point and you decide to just tell him flat out that he's going to be a father again. No bells, no whistles.

"Morning handsome," you reply, hand sliding between the two of you to grasp his forearm. "Joel I wanted to-"

Before anything else can be said, the door to your bedroom is flung open and a bleary eyed Sarah comes stumbling in.

She mumbles something about going to the park before clamoring into the bed, situating herself under the covers between you and Joel. She snuggles up to her father, calling over her shoulder to you.

"Mama can you give me back scratches?"

After ten minutes of good back scratches Joel suggests it’s time for pancakes and then a trip to the park. You and Sarah give an enthusiastic yes to this suggestion because you need some time to think of how to tell Joel. It seems a direct approach might not work with Sarah around.

Full of pancakes and wearing your favorite sundress (and Sarah her favorite purple sneakers) the three of you drive to a new park Joel suggests. It's in a nicer part of Austin with lots of greenery and expensive looking homes.

The park is bustling with families and you watch as the ever social Sarah waves to you and Joel before taking off for the swings. You both watch your daughter playing but your mind is a million miles away, stuck on two lines on a pregnancy test.

The shock has worn off now, leaving you with a thrumming excitement that terrifies as well as thrills you. This morning it had been all thrills, the thought of telling Joel and how he would react. But now hours later it’s been replaced with terror of all the things that could go wrong.

Your husband holds a cup of coffee in one hand, the other rubbing along your spine absently. You lean into his touch, your eyes on Sarah and your mind on the child slowly knitting itself together within your womb.

"This is a nice neighborhood," Joel observes, glancing around as you watch Sarah pump her legs on the swing. "Close to the schools."

"Mhmm," you answer not really listening.

What would you name the baby? Do you want a boy or girl?

Joel continues to drone on beside you.

"..could even walk with Sarah to school..."

What if Joel changed his mind? What if after all of this he doesn't want to be a dad again?

Sarah rushes off the swing and you absently observe as she clamors to the top of the slide.

What if Sarah hates the baby?

".... for cutting the grass and..."

What if you're a terrible mother? What if you're selfish like your dad?

"... different mailbox, but I don't...."

Fuck what if your baby grows up and hates you?

"...So what do you think of this place?" Joel asks, his hand tightening around your waist. The sensation brings your attention back to the present and after a delay his words catch up in your mind.

You glance over to see the house he's pointing at, a pale yellow suburban home with ornate windows and large front yard.

"S'nice," you observe. "You and Tommy doing renovations on it?"

"No," Joel says and you feel his deep intake of breath behind you. His large fingers tap along your hip. "I mean, what do you think of livin' there?"

Confusion suffuses you all over. You turn to face your husband, brows furrowed.

“Huh? What are you talking about?"

"I just got to thinking after we talked that maybe we need to think of moving somewhere bigger. More space and-"

Joel suddenly breaks off when he sees fat tears rolling down his wife's cheeks. He's immediately on guard, hands coming to cup her face.

"Baby what's wrong?"

"I don't wanna move!" You blubber, suddenly overcome. "I love our house."

Joel's heart softens at this remark. He'd always worried you'd thought of the house on Rancher Street as his. He bought it before you, raised Sarah there. Hearing you refer to it as home makes him pull you tight, pressing tender kisses to your forehead.

“Don’t you think we need a bigger place?” Joel asks, eyes wide with concern. “I thought that’s what you’d been hinting at.”

"We have enough space," you insist, wiping your damp cheeks with the back of your hand.

“But you’ve been goin’ on about converting that spare room upstairs and I thought maybe you’d wanna get a place we both chose,“ he reasons.

“No!” you insist, eyes welling with tears. “Joel we fell in love here, this is where you raised Sarah, and it’s where you proposed to me. I never want to leave Rancher Street. I fell in love with you in that house, Joel. You and Sarah. There are so many memories in that house. I want the baby to grow up in the same place as Sarah and I want-"

Joel's sharp intake of breath stops you from continuing. You watch as his eyes fill with tears.

"The baby?"

///

Sarah watches her parents from the top of the slide as other children clamor around her. She sees them talking while facing one another with Mama looking at Daddy with a serious look. Sarah has never seen them fight before and she wonders if this is what's happening.

Sarah is further confused as Daddy looks down at Mama's tummy then back to her face. He keeps saying the same word over and over but Sarah can't make it out through the din of the noisy kids around her.

Sarah's anxiety is erased as Daddy starts to smile wider than Sarah's ever seen, his eyes disappearing into half moon crescents.

He grabs Mama in his arms and raises her off the ground. Sarah giggles when Mama gives a loud yelp of surprise, the two of them laughing before Mama wraps her arms around Daddy's neck and kisses him all the while with tears running down her cheeks.

Allergies, Sarah decides.

Daddy lowers Mama to the ground, their lips breaking apart so that their foreheads can touch gently. Their eyes are closed and Daddy is saying something to Mama and she's nodding.

Their eyes open and Daddy's hands are cupping Mama's cheeks. She's smiling up at him and Sarah thinks she sees a tear rolling down the curve of her Daddy's cheek but she can't be sure.

Sarah looks away when he kisses Mama again, feeling shy to see it even though it secretly delights her. When she glances back up Daddy and Mama are scanning the playground for her. Daddy finds her first (he always does) and he waves at her.

"Come down here babygirl," Daddy calls over to her. "Let's go for ice cream."

Sarah squeals excitedly, throwing herself down the slide and jogging over to her parents. Mama lifts her up into her arms for a tight embrace even though Sarah's getting too big for it. But she allows it because Mama's hugs are the best.

"I love you, bug."

"Love you Mama." Sarah glances over her shoulder at her father. "You too, Daddy."

Joel chuckles and presses a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. Mama lowers her to the ground and both she and Daddy take one of Sarah's hands, the three of them walking to the truck to drive to the ice cream shop they always visit in the summer.

You've just reached for the handle to the truck when Sarah suddenly stops and glances up at your face, a beam spreading across her features as if she's just come to a sudden realization. And even though she doesn’t ask and even though her parents won’t officially tell her for months to come, Sarah just knows she’s getting a sister.

#something to fight for fic #something to fight for series #something to fight for #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller #dad joel miller #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel tlou #joel fanfic

175 notes · View notes

evanpeterswhoresblog · 24 days

Note

i'm soooo glad you're back!!! love your writting so much, was thinking about some ghostface¡ tate or shit yk...like everyone who flirts with reader end murdered

i’m sorry this took me so long to do 😔 but i sorta did my own twist on this request, hope you don’t mind… i love it… anyway… :)

~~~

Lovefool

Tate Langdon x f!reader

warnings: murder, smut, stalking, obsession, very toxic, manipulation, very minor talk of drug use… virgins, yeah idk what else it’s just stalker tate being crazy for you

summary: tate’s loved you since the first moment you met, and he would do anything to be with you… anything…

word count: 4.4

~~~

2011

You stare at the boy in front of you, a mix of emotions stirring inside you. He’s your age still, you aren’t too surprised at that. You’re more surprised at the fact that he’s in front of you. It’s been so long since the last time you saw him. You remember the pain, the pure fear that paralyzed your body the last time the two of you had an encounter. It still makes you uneasy.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice weak.

He shrugs. “It’s Halloween.”

“There’s been plenty of Halloweens Tate and this is the first time I’ve seen you here. What do you want?” You reply in a harsher tone than.

Tate shrugs again and starts to play with the sleeves of his sweater. You can’t believe this is real. You want to close your eyes and pretend this is all a sick dream, though you haven’t slept in years. After a few seconds, you cross your arms over your chest and take a deep breath. This isn’t going to be easy.

“Tate the fact you even have the balls to try to find me is crazy, what happened? Did you suddenly feel some sense of guilt? Are you finally sorry for what you did to me? I don’t even care if you are sorry, I don’t care about anything except the one question I’ve wondered since the night it happened,” you say.

“What question?” He responds.

“Why?” Your eyes start to burn. “Why did you kill me?”

~~~

1993

Tate had never seen any girl as beautiful as you. Never. Not in a movie, not in a magazine, nothing. From the first time he saw you in kindergarten, he knew there was something special about you. Of course, he didn’t know it would grow into what it did until middle school when his hormones took over. His feelings for you quickly transitioned from a pure crush to a sick obsession. And the best and worst part of it all was that you had no idea.

You never really spoke to him. He was out of your league. You were popular, but not braindead popular like the people you surrounded yourself with. Tate had seen you in some of your classes. You were smart, you got the best grades in those classes. You had plans for yourself after high school, unlike your friends. That knowledge only made him admire you more.

The problems began when you started going out with one of the popular boys in your group, David. He was awful for you; Tate didn’t understand why you chose to have such a relationship with someone like that. He’d watch how David would wrap his arms around you in the hallways, leave small kisses on your cheeks, and whisper words in your ears that made your face turn bright red. It made him furious.

What did David have that he didn’t? Why was he so special? Tate knew he could give you more than David ever could. So, why were you with him?

Tate quickly became blinded by rage and jealousy.

At night he’d lie awake, the knowledge that you might’ve been out there opening your legs for another boy making him sick. That’s when the fantasies began. He imagined killing David. How would he do it? Where? In what way would leave the least amount of blood on his clothes? The image of his mutilated body consumed Tate’s thoughts. He liked it.

It was around that time that he had found the mask.

It was a strange mask he found in the basement. It had a long white face with black holes for the eyes and a long mouth. He wondered which resident of his house had left it there for him. He didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care. All he knew from the second his eyes fell upon that mask was that bad things were going to happen.

He started going out at night and driving by David’s house. The mask he wore gave him a sense of power he never knew he could feel. At first, it was innocent. He’d simply drive down the other boy's road and look through his window for a few minutes before leaving. But all it took was one second of seeing you inside to blow the whole thing up. He was livid, seeing red. He decided he needed to bring his fantasies to life and get rid of David for good.

Halloween was when the opportunity to kill David became undeniable. By that point, Tate had been stalking the two of you for a month so he knew the basics. Which room was Davids, how to get into his house, and where his parents were most likely going to be. He had it all planned out. So, on Halloween night he put on the mask along with black robes that covered his entire body and ventured to the other boy's house, ready to kill.

He brought a knife, and when the time was just right, he snuck in through one of David’s open windows and started his game. He crept through the empty house, not making a sound. Getting to David’s room only took him a few minutes and what he heard from outside the door made him not regret his choice at all.

“Yeah, I know, listen she’s so close to finally giving it up to me and that’s what I’ve been working for this whole time. Once it happens, I’ll dump her, easy,” David spoke into his phone. His voice was cocky. It made Tate clench his jaw in frustration.

“Because dude, do you know how many girls from school I’ve already got under my belt? Y/N is just gonna be a name on my list. Yeah, whatever, I gotta go anyway I need to shower for the party, maybe I’ll get lucky, and she’ll drink too much. Okay bye.”

Before David could even get up from his chair, Tate kicked the door down and stormed in, too overpowered by his rage to think about anything but slitting the other boy's throat. He pounced on him, stabbing the knife into any part of his body he could reach. David screamed, but Tate quickly silenced him by shoving the knife down his throat. He felt empowered, he felt thrilled at the sight of his dead peer. It was amazing.

Tate didn’t waste much time gawking over his achievement, however. Once he was sure David was dead, he quickly pulled the knife out of the boy and fled out the window and back to his car. As he drove through the small neighborhoods of your guys' town, he wondered how big the news would be. Would you cry? He hoped you wouldn’t. Not over that asshole. You would move on, and Tate would wait however long it took.

~~~

The news of David’s death spread faster than wildfire and consumed Westfield High’s drama for weeks. Out of all the kids in the school, you took his death hardest. Seeing you so depressed almost made Tate regret his actions. He couldn’t bear seeing you tear up in class or show up to school two periods late. You weren’t like that.

However, as the days turned into weeks, you started to appear healthier and happier, and soon enough you were back to your normal self. Tate was glad, you were always so much prettier when you paid attention in class. He decided it was time for the second part of his plan to finally act. Though he was incredibly nervous, he knew it was then or never. He couldn’t risk you getting a new boyfriend that he’d have to kill again.

So, one day, he followed you into the library when the two of you coincidently had a study hall during the same period. His heart was beating so loud he could hear it in his ears. There you were. sitting at one of the tables alone studying, and he was going to speak to you. He’d thought up conversation starters all morning along with taking a few extra hits off his bong to help with the anxiety.

He shook the nervous thoughts from his head and grabbed his notebook from his backpack before walking in your direction. Your head was down, your hand moved aggressively across the paper as you wrote your notes. Tate stood at the other side of the table for a few seconds simply admiring you. His hands were shaky, his breathing uneasy. God, you made him lose his composure by existing. It was excruciating.

After he was done staring, he spoke, his voice quiet. “Hey y/n, do you mind maybe helping me with some of that psych homework?”

Your head shot up, your eyes instantly meeting his. He swore he couldn’t breathe. You, y/n, were looking at him on purpose. At that moment he didn’t care about what you were going to say, he didn’t care if you completely rejected him. All he cared about was how good it felt to have your eyes on him. Such innocent, loving eyes.

“Oh, yeah of course Tate that’s actually what I’m working on right now. Just sit, we can do it together. Unless you’re like super behind,” you answered.

“Are- Are you sure?” He couldn’t help the uncertainty. Did you really say yes to him?

“Yeah... should I not be?” You replied with a smile.

“No- sorry.” He sat down across from you. He could smell your perfume; he’d never been this close to you. “I just wasn’t sure if you even knew who I was.”

You chuckled. “How could I not know who you are? We’ve literally been in the same school system together since kindergarten.”

“I don’t know. You’re you know popular and stuff,” he said as he opened his notebook.

“Not really, besides even if I was that wouldn’t automatically make me forget anyone. But anyway, you can use my notes in a second, I’m almost done with the page,” you responded. You looked back down at your work and started writing again.

Tate nodded despite you not paying attention and watched as you wrote. He felt like that whole conversation was another one of his daydreams about you. Was he really sitting across from you? Or was it another mid-class nap? He cracked his knuckles to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and thankfully, he wasn’t. It was all real life.

“Sorry if this comes out as creepy, but I feel like I haven’t seen you around in a while. I mean, when was the last time we even spoke?” You suddenly spoke, your eyes back on his.

“I guess you weren’t looking hard enough to see me,” he said with a shrug. All his confidence was a facade because on the inside he was losing his mind.

He noticed the way your cheeks slightly turned pink before you replied. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t. But I should have been.”

He knew deep down you were going to be his for so long, but at that point, he knew he had already achieved his goal. You were his.

~~~

“What is this place?” You asked as you clutched your cardigan around your body.

Tate smiled and grabbed both of your hands in his. “I told you it’s a surprise. Patience is a virtue.”

“I have patience, but I also have a lower body temperature than usual and it’s bothering me so I would really appreciate it if you’d just take me to the surprise already,” you said, a small smile forming on your lips.

“It’s seventy degrees.”

“Yeah, but it’s also windy at the beach and it’s probably colder than seventy because of the ocean’s temperature.”

Tate sighed and leaned his head down to press a small kiss on your lips, a feeling he still hadn’t gotten over. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Terrible, naughty things I hope,” you replied, kissing him again. “But please lead me to your special surprise beach spot.”

Though he wanted to stand there and kiss you all night, Tate obeyed your request and began to lead you further down the beach. It had been a few months since the two of you started talking, and to say it progressed would be an understatement. Tate had truly underestimated how easy it would be to capture your attention. All you wanted was a sweet, caring, genuine boy and he could be all those things easily.

So, after a month of being friends, he asked you out and you said yes. The relationship grew deeper with each day, and it didn’t disappoint him one bit. He loved everything about you. The way you’d lie on your bed with him and talk for hours, the way you’d make your relationship with him public by holding his hand in the halls, and most importantly the way you never expected or wanted him to change to fit in with your friends. You liked him for who he was, and it melted his heart.

It was your three-month anniversary, and Tate wanted to make it special. Even though he knew before the two of you got together that you were a virgin, he didn’t know to what extent you were. He quickly became aware you had done most things already, just not full sex. At first, he was annoyed at the fact that you weren’t completely his because he had never done anything with a girl before you. But after the first night, you went down on him, he wasn’t that upset anymore.

On this night he planned to take the next step with you. He had it all set up. The blankets, the lights, all of it. As the sight of his setup came into view, he watched your face light up. You squeezed his hand and grinned up at him.

“Is this really for me?” You asked.

“Yeah, do you like it?” He replied.

You nodded and sped up to reach it, dragging him with you. Once you made it you dropped down to sit on the blanket, urging Tate to do the same. “This is so cool. You’re the first boy to ever do something like this for me. I love it.”

“I’m glad, I know how you like sentimental things,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “And I’ve been wanting to show you this spot for a while. I used to come here a lot as a kid and watch the waves with my dad... before he left. I wanted to make it special with you because you’re not like my dad. Right?”

“No, I’m not. I won’t ever do anything to hurt you like that. I lo- I like you Tate, a lot.”

Tate only stared into your eyes, his heart beating faster than it ever had in his life. You almost said you loved him. He knew then that night was going to be the night you finally gave yourself to him. Something in your eyes made him certain. Your eyes were dark. You stared up at him as if he were the only boy in the world. There was a feeling in the air, one of lust and fear.

“I’ll never want to hurt you either,” he mumbled after a few seconds. “I doubt I ever could.”

You gave him a small smile and placed one of your hands on his cheek. You caressed the skin with your thumb as you slowly started to lean your face toward his. He accepted your lips on him, kissing back instantly. It was the moment he’d been working up to for years. He was finally going to lose his virginity to you, and you to him. Nothing would ever compare.

~~~

The sound of Nirvana mixed with skin slapping filled Tate’s room. He couldn’t help the moan that left his lips when he looked down at you. Your back was arched so perfectly, your waist looked impossibly small, and your ass looked incredibly big. The side of your face was smushed against one of Tate’s pillows. You were so red, so loud you had to bite your hand to spare the whole house from hearing. Tate took in a deep breath and slapped your ass, his thrusts not faltering for even a second.

“Fuck baby, you look so pretty right now. You take me so well,” he whispered. He wrapped some of your hair around his hand and yanked you up, making you practically scream. “Yeah, you like that. You like being manhandled y/n?”

You let out another moan but didn’t reply. Tate slapped your ass again and threw you back down to the mattress. He leaned over you, your sweaty body feeling perfect against his. He was close to finishing. He’d already made you cum a few times that day, so he wasn’t too concerned about where you were. All he was concerned about was getting closer to you before he came.

“I love controlling you, you’re so helpless. Fuck I’m so close,” he mumbled in your ear. “You’re mine, all fucking mine forever. I’ll kill anyone who even tries to take you away from me.”

You made a noise and Tate couldn’t hold back any longer. He came inside you, his cock pulsing heavily. You groaned; his cock was hitting your cervix too hard it hurt. He waited a minute or so before finally pulling out and moving to the spot next to you on the bed. He’d never felt anything as amazing as having sex with you. He was breathless.

He was so caught up in his thoughts about what just happened that he didn’t notice your sad expression. When he eventually looked at you, he saw your frown. Immediately he turned to his side and faced you, reaching out one of his hands to brush a few of your hairs behind your ear.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you replied.

“It doesn’t look like nothing you look sad; you can tell me whatever it is.”

You sighed and turned your head to meet his gaze. “Why do you like hurting me? Like during sex and stuff. You’re always so rough and I don’t know you’re really mean and sometimes the stuff you say is… scary.”

“How is it scary?” He laughed.

“You said you’d kill anyone who would try to take me away from you,” you said.

“Yeah, I would. I swear I’ve said this shit to you before. I would do anything for you, or to keep you,” he responded.

“Don’t joke about that Tate, you know I’m scared of killers because of what happened.”

“Oh, so this is about David? Why are you even thinking about him y/n he’s been dead for months. Do you miss him, or something is that it?” He questioned; his tone harsher than before.

You scoffed and sat up. “You’re seriously making this about me missing David?”

“Well, is that what this is about?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered before you stood up and started to get dressed.

“Oh, my fucking God y/n I’m sorry for whatever I said wrong while we were fucking. Can we just move on already? I don’t see what the big deal is,” he snapped.

“No, we can’t just move on. You scare me sometimes Tate like genuinely. I know you mean it all in a sweet way but it’s weird. I love you but you don’t hear me saying I’d kill people if they talked to you or looked at you a certain way. That’s not normal.”

Tate sat up. “I wish you would say those things. I wish you loved me as much as I love you. I’d do anything you ask; I would shoot up the fucking school if you wanted me to.”

You looked at him, he could see the terror and fear in your eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am. I don’t get why you’re acting so scared. I’d never hurt you I don’t even think I could if I wanted to, you mean more to me than any person alive or dead,” he answered.

“You’re sick,” you mumbled. You grabbed your bag and walked to the door. “I think we need some time apart; you aren’t sane.”

His heart practically stopped. “What?”

“We need to stop seeing each other for a little while, I can’t take this insane shit Tate. I’m sorry. You know I love you, but I need you to get some help before I can be with you.”

Before Tate could reply, you left. All he could do was stare at the door, a million thoughts roaming his head. Did you really just break up with him? Was that it? Did you just throw away everything the two of you had because you felt his love was too strong? It didn’t feel real.

As the night progressed, he tried to call you, dozens of times. But each call was either declined or rang out. His anxiety grew with each ring of the phone. Why weren’t you replying? Who were you seeing? Did he really mean so little to you that you could leave so easily? His mind spun with scenarios, each one worse than the last. By the end of the night, he had convinced himself you were cheating on him, and the following days only worsened his state of madness.

You ignored him completely in school. Every time he tried to talk to you, you either turned away or walked away completely. It hurt him terribly. He couldn’t understand what had changed so fast. He chased you around the halls for days, trying his hardest to get your attention. But it never worked. And so, his love for you began to fade into an awful rage.

He couldn’t let you just walk away from everything the two of you shared. You were his. Only his. He couldn’t let you leave him, not like his dad. He hadn’t spent his entire life chasing you just to end up losing you. No. So, he began to formulate a plan. He’d leave you alone for a few days then calmly ask you to meet him at the beach, in the special spot he once made for you.

He wasn’t surprised that his plan worked. You were predictable.

When the night came, he made sure he was prepared. He snorted a line, packed his bag full of your favorite things, and set off. As he walked down the beach, he made sure the knife he hid was secure in his pocket. It was smaller than the one he’d used on David, but it would do the job just as efficiently.

You arrived a few minutes after him, a sad expression on your pretty face. He fought the urge to run to you with open arms.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. Only a few feet separated your bodies, he wished he could close it. But he needed to be patient.

You took a deep breath, you looked nervous. “Yeah, look Tate I... I’ve thought about it and I... I really think we should stop seeing each other for some time.”

“Why Y/N? I love you, so fucking much. I’m sorry for what I said, I can change, I won’t say shit like that ever again. I’ll be gentle, I swear. Just give me the chance I can be whatever you need me to be,” he replied desperately. He opened his bag and pulled out your favorite candy. “I love you; I really do. Please give me another chance.”

He watched your eyes fill with tears. You wanted to give in, he could see it in your eyes. But you only shook your head and wiped a fallen tear from your cheek.

“No. I’m sorry. Tate, you aren’t gentle, that’s not who you are. And I don’t want you to pretend to be someone you aren’t.”

Tate swallowed hard. “You promised me you’d never leave me; you said you were nothing like my dad. Was it all a lie?”

“Of course not!” You exclaimed and took a step closer to him. “I love you; I really do. That’s why this is so hard.”

“If you love me, why can’t we work this out? Don’t lie to me Y/N.”

He couldn’t stop his eyes from watering, nor could he stop his lips from quivering. He dug the bouquet of your favorite flowers out from his bag and held them out to you.

“Please,” he mumbled. “I need you.”

You caved. You wrapped your arms around his waist and held him tight. He could feel your muffled cries on his chest, it pained him. You were a sensitive sweet girl; it was both your blessing and curse.

“Maybe in a few months, we can try again, I don’t know.” You looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. “We just can’t be together right now. And I mean we’re going to graduate soon, and I might go to a college far away, how would that even work? But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s too late for that Y/N, you’ve already hurt me.” He dropped what he was holding and dug one of his hands into his pocket. He touched your face with his other hand, your tears covering his palm. “You’ve planned on leaving me this whole time. I wanted to give it another try you’ve made up your mind. I guess it just comes down to one thing.”

“What?” You asked.

“If I can’t have you, no one can,” he whispered before he pulled out the knife and plunged it into the side of your neck.

~~~

2011

“I killed you because I loved you,” he answers. “Because you were going to leave me and find someone else.”

All you can do is stare at him in silence. You think back to everything that happened. How could you have been so blind? It couldn’t have been your fault though. He would’ve killed you anyway. You think back to all the times Tate made you uneasy, all the times he would say things that creeped you out. Deep down you must’ve known that’s who he is. Maybe you knew all along.

Maybe you loved him because of his darkness.

You exhale a long breath. “We don’t have that long till midnight.”

“So?”

You shrug. “Wanna hook up?”

156 notes · View notes

virtualreader · 9 months

Text

broken hearts and healing souls

deanwinchesterxfem!reader

summary: carrying the ruins of the broken heart the death of his father had left behind, Dean pushes you away, fearing hurting you as well. or perhaps he’s just scared of being hurt himself, one more time.

word count: 3,3k. (does not include lyrics)

warnings: alleged age gap, fierce anger, heated argument, drinking out of spite, supressed feelings, cursing, yelling, not the happiest end, and lots and lots of angst.

part 2

a/n: i started watching supernatural about a month ago and I'm loving it so far. and god, i couldn't help but fall truly, madly, deeply in love with dean winchester. this scenario came to my mind while listening someone to stay - vancouver sleep clinic, so this one shot is based on this song. feedback is always appreciated. please, comment if you think I should write a part 2 to this one!

"You can't boss me around, Dean! I'm not a child anymore!" you barked at the hunter standing by the motel room's door.

"I can't? Watch me!" Dean retorted, breathing heavily and extending his arms upward to appear bigger. "As the eldest here, it's my call to make the hard decisions. And I've decided that you won't come on any more hunts, end of story. You're risking your life out there—it's dangerous, y/n. What's not clear about that?!"

You and Dean had been arguing for a while. He came into the motel room the three of you—Sam, Dean and yourself—were forced to share, stringently declaring you were not allowed to go with them on hunts anymore.

After the previous mission ended with you being kidnapped by the demon you were after and tied to a chair in an old building's basement, the oldest brother wasted no time in making a decision. Despite your eagerness to rid the world of evil, Dean prioritized your safety, even if you didn't see it that way.

Dean Winchester was an undaunted and confident man, he had been since his mother died, he had to be, for his family's sake, for his own sake. Yet, when it came to you, potential bad outcomes constantly assaulted his mind. He could not afford to lose another loved one, so he did not take a gamble.

"It is my life that I am endangering, so I strongly believe that I get to choose whether I want to expose myself to hunting hazards or not. You are not my dad and cannot give me orders, Winchester!" you declared, raising your voice with anger and trembling as you pointed your index finger at him.

You were hurt and confused. Hunting had been your life for as long as you could remember and now he was taking that away from you. You tried to plead your case, but he had already made up his mind.

In response to your defiance, Dean raised his chin, pursed his lips, and clenched his jaw. Yet, even in his anger, he maintained steady eye contact with you. It was clear he was not going to back down easily.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he queried exasperated. “That demon back there, could have killed you, and you know that. This is not some inoffensive deer we’re going after.”

He was undoubtedly referring to the incident that happened earlier that day, when he was able to free you from the grasp of the demon. It was the same demon that mercilessly took your father’s life, leaving you fatherless at the tender age of twelve and subsequently placed under the care of the Winchesters.

Growing up with them, you learned to navigate the dangerous world of hunting and the supernatural. From hours-long road trips and campfires to cozy movie-evenings and pancake Sundays, your memories with your new family included a wide variety of experiences that left a lasting impact on you.

The bond you formed with the Winchesters was one built on mutual respect and a shared purpose, making them more than just your guardians; they were your family, and you were theirs.

"God, what a pig-headed dude you are," you muttered, oozing frustration, as you let out a peeved sigh. "So you, old man, can risk being killed by these heartless creatures, but I can't? Is it just because I'm younger than you guys? ‘Cause I already told you, I am as much of an adult as you are.”

Clearly, you would not be swayed by Dean's demands. You were your own person, with your own will and your own desires. You were determined to stand up for yourself and live your life on your own terms.

He took a moment to observe your bruised appearance as he pondered his answer. The blood that had previously emerged from the wound above your eyebrow was already dry, while the cut on your lip was still struggling to form a scab.

He noticed the swelling around your left eye, a tell-tale sign of the force of the blow that had landed on your face. And as he looked at you, he could not help but feel responsible for your emaciated state.

"If you're such an adult, you'll be fine on your own. You don't need me, do you?" the hunter sassed back, towering over you, tilting his head and upturning his brows.

Dean's words hurt you deeply, and you felt tears welling up in your eyes. But you refused to let him see you cry. You straightened your back and met his gaze with a fierce determination.

"Do you want me to leave?” you said, your voice shaking a little. “Fine. If that's what you want, I'll leave. But don't expect me to come back."

You walked past him, feeling his eyes on your back. You didn't turn around, didn't give in to the urge to look at him again. You needed to be strong, to show him that you could make it on your own. But deep down, you knew that you didn't want to be alone. You needed Dean, more than you wanted to admit.

"Hey, girl!" you called out to the waitress, raising your voice above the noise of the tavern to get her attention. "Can I get a refill, please?”

You were alone, left out in the cold Clinging to the ruin of your broken home Too lost and hurting to carry your load We all need someone to hold

As you waited for your drink, you couldn't help but replay the argument with Dean in your mind. You felt hurt and betrayed by his words. You were mad at him for not understanding your desire to be by his side, no matter the risks.

You were lost in thought when a voice snapped you out of your reverie.

"Rough night?" inquired a gold-haired man as he took a seat on the adjoining stool.

The man seemed to be a bit younger than Dean, possibly in his mid-twenties, closer to your own age. He wore a white crewneck t-shirt that hugged his muscular arms around the biceps, and his dark slim fit jeans matched the black pattern printed on his shirt's front.

It was difficult to determine whether it was the effect of the second-rate alcohol or your personal taste in men, but it was safe to say he was far from unattractive and he was, in fact, quite handsome.

"You could say so." you answered his question with a touch of apathy but still flashed a slight smile his way.

You've been fighting the memory, all on your own Nothing worsens, nothing grows I know how it feels being by yourself in the rain We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay

The man took a slow, deliberate sip from his beer bottle and leaned back, his eyes fixed intently on you. His gaze seemed to linger for a moment, as if he were trying to gauge your reaction to what he had just said.

"You know," he said, his voice low and suggestive, "I can make it better for you, pretty."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks at the man's brazen suggestion, and you couldn't help but feel a little intrigued by his offer.

You glanced around the dimly lit tavern, taking in the smoky air and the clinking of glasses. It was the kind of place where people came to drown their sorrows and forget about the troubles of the day-to-day life. And in that moment, you couldn't help but feel like you were just another lost soul adrift in the sea of humanity.

The man's eyes were still fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be waiting for your response, as if he knew that his offer had the power to change the course of your night—or maybe even your life.

You took a deep breath and met his gaze head-on, feeling a sense of daring that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"And how, exactly, do you plan on doing that?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

The man smiled, a slow, confident grin that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Let's just say that I know a thing or two about making a woman feel good," he replied, his voice dripping with innuendo.

It was abundantly clear what his intentions were at this point in time, and to be entirely candid, it did not annoy you at all.

You eagerly accepted the charming man's alluring offer. And with a sense of anticipation, you followed him out of the sleazy bar, seeking shelter from the gentle patter of the light rain under the protective eaves.

As you walked alongside him, you found yourself captivated by his confident stride and the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light emanating from the street lamps.

You could feel his hand slowly making its way towards your hip, until it rested there, just barely grazing the upper part of your buttocks. This subtle touch sent a sparkling feeling coursing through your body, starting from the core and reaching all the way up to your chest. It created a warm whirlwind of expectancy, causing your heart to beat faster in anticipation.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice asked, a hint of pain in it.

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day you were helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

Dean narrowed his eyes, anguishedly taking in the sight in front of him.

As you stood there, drenched from the rain and your mind clouded by the alcohol, Dean's sudden appearance caught you off guard. He was directly facing you, his eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the pain and anger etched upon his features.

"What the hell are you doing here, y/n?" Dean asked incredulously, his voice laced with anger and hurt. “And who the fuck is that jerk?”

You froze, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. You had been so caught up in your own emotions that you hadn't even considered how your actions might affect Dean.

You've drunk it down and you've spat it out And nothing tastes like the things you had So tear it off, why don't you let them go? We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay

"I didn't know she was taken, mate. I didn't mean to meddle in your relationship," the guy standing next to you apologized, his voice trembling as Dean's contempting gaze threatened to pierce his soul. Green eyes—usually a symbol of grace—had never held such a look of hatred. “She’s all yours, mate.”

Once the man marched back into the tavern, with tail between legs, the hunter’s emerald orbs landed on you. And as he beamed down at you, you noticed how much woe his gaze held. He wasn’t someone to let his emotions surface, not at all, that would leave his feelings too exposed, too unguarded.

He didn't seem to mind the rain dribbling over his leather jacket or his well-styled hair as he approached you. Although you had a defiant demeanor, you took a step backward in response, and your back met the wall covered in graffiti.

“Thought you said ‘I’d be fine on my own’.” you tried to sound confident as you quoted him, yet the alcohol running through your veins caused your words to slur together.

"Yeah, I said on your own! Not with some opportunistic macho man!" he said, referring to your previous companion.

He looked at you with a mixture of disbelief and anger, his eyes scanning your face as if he was trying to find some kind of explanation for what he was seeing.

And then, his anger boiled over, and he let out a shout that echoed through the empty streets. "No way. Are you fucking drunk?!" he yelled. "Are you nuts?!"

The force of his outburst hit you like a physical blow, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest. You had never seen Dean like this before, and it was clear that he was at his breaking point.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other in silence, the rain pouring down around you like a curtain. And then, slowly, you began to speak, your words tumbling out of you in a jumbled mess.

"You're one to talk. You, my dear friend, are the very reason I'm here, drinking my sorrows away." you scoffed at him.

Your eyes darted around, looking at anything but Dean. You felt intimidated—what with Dean’s tall figure and the disappointment you could discern in his expression.

“Drinking won’t solve anything, y/n. You know better than this.”

"Do I really?” you uttered, struggling to keep at bay your wobbly lip. “Last time I checked, I was just a kid to you.”

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

As the rain continued to fall, the rhythmic clattering of the water drops mixed with the sound of cars cruising over the wet pavement, creating an overwhelming melody.

The droplets seemed to grow in size and force. You welcomed the heavier rain, grateful for the way it obscured the tears that threatened to overflow from your eyes.

You knew that if he saw you crying, he would only see you as weak and immature, even more than he already saw you. You had always been strong and independent, and you didn't want him to think any less of you.

So you stood there, letting the rain soak into your clothes and hair, hoping that it would wash away the pain and sorrow you felt inside.

“I don’t think of you as a kid. I just prefer you staying away from those creatures. You know better than anyone what that demon is capable of. It killed your father, and you could’ve died today too, y/n!”

“Do not act like you care! And do not dare mentioning my dad ever again! You are too self-centered to take others’ needs into account.”

With a trembling voice, you lashed out at Dean, your emotions running high and your patience wearing thin. You couldn't stand the way Dean tried to control your life, always telling you what to do and what not to do.

You had grown up fast in the world of hunting, learning to fend for yourself and to take care of others. You had seen things that most people couldn't even imagine, and you had faced danger and death head-on. You were not some delicate flower that needed to be protected at all costs.

And yet, Dean seemed to think otherwise. He was always trying to shield you from harm, even if it meant keeping you from doing what you loved most.

"Do you even hear yourself, Dean?" you continued, your voice rising with every word. "You act like you're the only one who knows what's best for me. You don't trust me to make my own decisions, although I've been hunting just as long as you have. You're so wrapped up in your own fears and insecurities that you can't see how much you're hurting me."

"You're part of my family now, and as such, I must protect you," Dean declared, helplessness building up inside his chest. "Why do you find it so hard to understand?”

You were alone, left out in the cold Clinging to the ruin of your broken home Hear the falling and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? The end of the day and we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me?

“I-…Just…leave me alone. Please, Dean.”

And it was then when, acting on your most primitive impulses, you took off, walking away from Dean with no determined destination.

It was not that you were afraid of Dean, no, you had spent too many years among the Winchesters to know he would never voluntarily hurt you, at least not physically. You found him sort of intimidating, more like it.

It was well known among the Winchesters' acquaintances that Dean, although not often, could become livid if you pressed the right buttons. And no one would ever want that fatal rage to be directed at them, unless they wanted to know what hell felt like.

However, the emotion the hunter was feeling now was not anger. It was something else, something both mysterious and intriguing. Although his muscles remained tight, his eyes shone with unshed tears, and a pinched expression was plastered on his face.

You fought against the urge to turn back and run into his embrace, to apologize to him and leave this dispute behind. It was a struggle to hold onto your never-so-fragile pride when your love for him had never felt as powerful as it did now. Not since you had first fallen in love with him, at least, back when you were a silly, naive teenager.

A hand grabbed firmly onto your arm, forcing you into a halt. You did not have the courage to turn around and face him with a trail of tears cascading over your cheeks, even if the drizzling rain disguised it somewhat. There was no need for that, however, when he began speaking, not waiting for you to look at him.

"I'm sorry, y/n," he apologized in a small voice, unaccustomed to saying such words. "I didn't mean to push you away. I... I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you. I'm scared, y/n. Scared of losing you like I lost my father, like I lost my mother," Dean confessed, his voice softening, dropping in pitch.

You turned to look at him, really look at him, and saw the pain and fear written in his face.

You felt a lump form in your throat at the raw emotion in Dean's words. You had always known that he cared about you, but you had never realized just how much you meant to him.

"Dean," you said, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his arm. "I'm not going to die. I'm strong, and I know how to take care of myself. But I need you to trust me. I need you to let me make my own decisions, even if it means taking risks sometimes."

You stopped, taking a big deep breath before continuing.

“What you said back at the motel, it hurt me, a lot. I have nothing left, Dean. My family is dead, I have no place to stay, no job, no nothing. I’ve lost everything.”

“You have me.” He took a step towards you, getting closer, and caressed your feathery cheek with his large hand. “You always have and always will have me.”

Dean wiped away a tear from your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin softly. "I'm sorry for pushing you away, y/n. I was just so afraid of losing you. But I promise, from now on, I'll trust you to make your own decisions. We'll face everything together, as a team."

A turmoil of heartfelt emotions whirled its way down to your very core as Dean's words sank in. And, as you looked up at him, you saw the love and devotion in his eyes, and you felt grateful like never before to the Winchesters for taking you in.

Seizing the proximity, you took a moment to admire him. The softness on his eyes only adding to his already perfectly alluring features. The green orbs standing out his face had never shone as bright, and his nose glowed as red as his eyes, probably from the cold air of the drizzly night.

Yet the part you spent the longest time observing was his lips. Sultry pouty lips, that rested slightly parted.

And as if in a dream, he leaned in intertwining his lips with yours in a genuine kiss. Sliding the hand that previously laid on your cheek to the back of your neck, bringing you nearer to his own body.

His grip was both firm and steady, but no less gentle, just so as if he never wanted to let go of you. Your movements kept in step with each other's, as your mouths melted in a much-needed dance.

None of you cared about the rain soaking your clothes or the idling engine of the precious impala of Dean’s, nor about the small crowd by the tavern’s entrance looking at you. You were in a deep immersion into the depths of the moment, and all you saw, all you could regard was the man in front of you - the man you’ve always loved.

The idyllic moment was short-lived, much to your dismay, as Dean pulled away and apprehensively took a step backwards. But the pain you felt then was nothing compared to the stabbing sensation in your heart when he opened his mouth to speak again.

"I'm sorry. This was a mistake."

part 2

741 notes · View notes

starry-bi-sky · 3 months

Text

Becoming Phantom - Clone^2 (and by extension, clone danny)

I said I would make it, and so i did! Here's a little ficlet of how danny became Phantom - the human ghost-fighting vigilante in the clone^2 and clone Danny au. Since this does include themes of dissection/vivisection, i'll put in a minor trigger warning list down below.

TW: experimentation - implied torture and vivisection/dissection of ghosts TW: Non-graphic mentions of injuries and blood

TLDR: Danny's parents have been catching ghosts ever since the portal was opened after Danny's lab accident. Danny knows this because he can hear them screaming from the basement. After finally telling his friends about it, he resolves to free the ghosts - and he does. He ends up having a conversation with one of the ghosts, and comes to the decision that he will catch ghosts before his parents do to prevent this kind of harm from happening again.

word count check: 4.9k

---------------

His parents caught another ghost.

Danny can tell because he can hear their screaming from the kitchen, even with the doors closed. It's horrific - the voice is doubled over itself like something out of one of Sam's demonic horror movies, and Danny's heart races like he's run a mile at the sound.

It warps and twists, and almost sounds like its saying 'please.'

He rubs his chest uncomfortably, and pushes his breakfast away from him. His appetite lost and his stomach churning with a deep sense of dread.

Across the table, Jazz notices, and her eyes narrow dangerously at his hand gripping his shirt - right over his heart. He just got out of the hospital last month, and he knows what she's thinking - they don't want to have to send him back.

"I'm fine." He blurts out immediately, dropping his hand. He's not fine, but it's because he feels ill as the lights above flicker and another terrified shriek echoes through the floorboards. He swallows, ill. "I- it's just-" his eyes flick to the door to the lab. "the lab."

Jazz's lips press into thin line, and she pushes her chair back and stands up. "I hate that they're doing this," she says, stomping towards the lab. "It's inhumane, Danny. They're people too, even if they don't look like us!"

Before the portal, Danny might've just shrugged his shoulders and not said anything. He never really cared about his parents' ghost hunting stuff, but figured that since they knew more about it, their rants about them being unfeeling were correct.

Now, though? When he's been woken up in the middle of the night by the house rattling and his ears ringing with the pained cries of one of the ghosts' in the basement? His heart beating so fast he thinks he's been transported back to the lab a month ago, lying on the floor after being electrocuted by the portal?

He's really not so sure anymore. And he thinks he's starting to agree with Jazz. This isn't right. He doesn't think so, at least.

An unsure 'hm' comes out of his throat, eyes tracking Jazz as she swings the heavy metal door open and breathes in deep. "HEY!" She yells, her voice miraculously sounding out over the ghost screaming. The screams stop. "MOM! DAD! CUT THAT OUT, YOU'RE SCARING DANNY!"

There's no sound, and Danny sighs a breath of relief. Not that it does much to slow his anxious heart, the shrieks are burned into his ears, and he's already thinking about leaving now rather than later. He can meet Tucker at his house.

His parents - his mom, actually - appears at the entrance to the lab, her hands drip bright, ectoplasm green, and there's splatters of it across the front of her suit and goggles like blood. Danny feels white in the face, and Jazz looks enraged.

Mom pulls off her goggles, frowning apologetically. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Your father and I just got carried away, we caught this one just this morning by the park." She says, as if that makes it any better. Danny's eyes are glued to the ectoplasm dripping onto the floor. "We'll wait until you get to school."

Danny wishes they wouldn't do this at all. But he just nods mutely, unable to make his lead-heavy tongue do anything. Jazz speaks for him, and whirls on mom like a tornado about to break loose. "At school? This shouldn't be happening at all - it's wrong, mom!"

Jazz has been the only one vocal about this whole thing ever since mom and dad came home with a ghost trapped in one of their nets - their thermos wasn't working - while Danny was on sick leave after he got out of the hospital. Danny still remembers the utter shock he was in after mom and dad came in dragging it behind them.

The ghost looked like a grown woman, but it - she - had the brightest blue eyes he'd ever seen, and ice-like skin. She'd been thrashing in the net, saying something in a hissy, whispering language that made static build behind his eyes. It had surprised him that he could somewhat make out what she was saying.

It had been fascinating. Up until the screaming started.

He watches Mom make a face that looks like endeared annoyance, and she turns to Jazz with a light sigh. "You're a kind girl, Jazz, but ghosts aren't human, sweetheart. We've told you this." And they have, multiple times. It's become a reoccurring argument.

"Does it matter?!" Jazz exclaims, her cheeks turning an inflamed red with indignancy. She looks appalled. "They're still in pain! You're hurting them!"

Danny silently nods, but they don't see. Jazz is glaring at mom with the burning anger of the sun and Mom just looks exasperated. "Your father and I know this already, Jazmine." Mom says, her arms crossing across her chest.

Jazz's mouth drops open.

Danny's almost does the same. The bone-chilling blood rush leaves him shivering, and his vision spots out in black, fuzzy dots for a few seconds. Maybe, he thinks, it's his heart stopping again with the cold horror.

They know this?

And they're still doing it?

He thought he knew his parents - now he's second-guessing himself.

Jazz is just as much at a loss for words as Danny is. And then her expression shutters closed with a fury-kind of icy. "Danny," she says, still staring down their mom. "Go get your stuff, I'm driving you to school."

Normally, he hates how.. parent-y Jazz gets. She acts like a second mom, and like a helicopter one to boot. It drives him nuts on the worst of days. Right now though, he's already rising to his feet before he's even opening his mouth.

"Okay." He croaks, and beelines it up the stairs for his backpack. He doesn't look at mom when he comes back down, he doesn't think he can. He can see her still-dripping hands in the corner of his eye though.

------

"Man, you look like shit." Tucker says the moment Danny sits down in their homeroom class, he's frowning. Danny doesn't say anything to him, he just grunts and drops his head into his arms.

Sam, sitting behind Danny, leans across the aisle and smacks Tucker in the arm. He yelps in pain, and rubs the spot she hit with a glare. "He's right though," Sam says, leaning over his shoulder. "You looked like you were gonna yak over the front row when you walked in."

"It's good that you didn't," Tucker grumbles, "Dash would've killed you."

Danny, despite the shit morning, manages a smile and tilts his head so that his cheek is resting on his arm instead. "Mr. Lancer wouldn't've let him." Sam sniffs, and her fingers are in his hair already - it's been growing out for a while now. He meant to cut it but then the lab accident happened, and he was in the hospital, and then on sick leave, and -- long story short, he was growing it out.

Besides, Sam pulling it back for him was relaxing, and he feels the tension bleeding out of his shoulders already. His anxious heart slowing. "Yeah, he's been weirdly protective since the accident." He says. It was kinda nice, Dash was being forced to back off - finally, more than he was before.

"Probably because if you have a heart attack in class from Dash bullying you, he'll be liable." Tucker snorts, relaxing back into his chair. Up front, the three of them see Dash shoot them a glare from over his shoulder. He probably heard them -- and Tucker doesn't help by giving him an innocent, too-wide grin.

There's a tug, and Danny lifts his head slightly as Sam ties his hair back with whatever hairband she procured out of nowhere. And she says she's not a witch, honestly.

His smile falters, however, when Sam leans back around his shoulder with a frown still evident on her face. "Seriously though, what's up? You were really pale -- paler than normal, that is."

Danny doesn't really wanna tell them - he's kept the whole 'my parents are torturing ghosts' thing to himself ever since he first woke up to the house shaking. It wasn't any secret though that there were ghosts now actually 'infesting' Amity Park though, they'd been popping up ever since the portal turned on.

But Jazz says talking about things helps alleviate stress of what's burdening you, and Danny doesn't usually listen to her. She's his annoying older sister, of course he doesn't. But... this... wasn't really something he wanted to keep secret forever, either.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, and he averts his eyes. It's like tearing off a band-aid, Danny, he thinks, just... blurt it out. "My parents are torturing ghosts in the basement." He says, only to immediately wince as both Sam and Tucker drop their jaws.

"What!?" They both yell in unison, and Danny ducks his head down as everyone else sitting around them turn their heads.

"Not so loud!" He hisses, peeking through his arms and glaring at the both of them. They both grimace, embarrassment dusting red across Sam's face and Tucker's darkening slightly, and duck their heads down towards him.

"Sorry, what!?" Tucker whispers back at him, his face all scrunched up in disbelief. Sam's redness has faded into pale horror and -- and yeah, yeah, Danny gets it. He feels that way too.

"They keep catching the ghosts and dissecting them." He whispers, and god, he feels sick just saying it. Tucker's face falls slack, and he looks about as ill as Danny feels. "I don't- I don't know what to do about it, I keep waking up to them screaming, and Jazz keeps getting into fights about it with them."

"Oh my god." Sam mutters, her hands pressing together and covering her mouth. Danny nods mutely, chewing on his lip.

"They know its hurting them." He adds, and its still dizzyingly terrifying to think about. He thought he knew his parents. He thought he knew them. He guesses that saying of people being multi-faceted was true. "They don't care."

Sam and Tucker both look green. Or as close to green as they can get. "That's- that's inhumane." Sam breathes, and Danny huffs sardonically - funny, that's what Jazz said this morning. That's what she keeps saying. "And there's really nothing you can do?"

"Not unless I go into the lab myself and release them," he mutters, hiding half his face in his arms. "And I haven't been back in there since I got electrocuted." His parents wouldn't allow it, and it's not like he he was chomping at the bits to go back inside anyways.

...Hm.

"I'm sorry, Danny." Tucker says, his voice low and horrified, "that's- that's awful."

Yeah. He knows.

--------

This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea.

Where was Danny you ask? Sneaking down into the lab at sometime past midnight, long after his parents have gone to bed. It's been a week since he said, sarcastically, that the only thing he could do was release the ghosts in the lab, and it hasn't left his head.

Even though he was utterly terrified as he took slow, sneaky steps down the stairs. The thought had been keeping him up at night. He could do it. He could go down into the lab and let them go. He could do something.

It's not like his parents had put a lock on the door. He hadn't even thought about it - if he thought about it, he'd back out. So when he heard his parents go to sleep that night, he waited an hour before sneaking out.

Every sound felt so loud, and his heart had raced in his ears as he creaked open the door to the lab, and closed it behind him for good measure. And his hands were shaking as he reached the bottom of the steps and stepped into the lab for the first time in two months.

And good god, did he almost regret it. There were ghosts in cages of all kinds, and ectoplasm seeping down onto the floor of their cages. They were clutching their chests, of which bled sluggishly through stitched up y-scars. They were moaning, and crying, curled up in the back like frightened animals. And there was a metal table in the center of a room that was stained green, green, green.

"Oh my god." He breathes, horror driving itself up into his throat with the churning of his gut. That's another thing he almost regrets - if only because half a dozen ghosts all snap their heads towards him, and it becomes pandemonium in an instant.

Rattling, yelling, crying, they're all screaming at him. Either to tell him to go away, to give them mercy, or to spew threats at him. It's in that same, hissy language that he's heard before. Whispery, echoing, and overlapping like multiple languages being played backwards and forwards at the same time. It gives him an immediate headache as his mind tries to comprehend and translate it.

Go away. Don't hurt us. Go away. I'll tear you apart. Leave. Leave. LEAVE.

It's all so much. Danny wants to throw himself up the stairs and back up to his room in a prey-driven instinct to flee, flee, flee. He doesn't. He covers his ears and digs his nails into his hair.

He yells. "I'M NOT LEAVING. BE QUIET!" and somehow, it silences everyone in an instant. He looks up, and everyone is staring at him, their multi-colored eyes burning into him.

Tentatively, he lowers his hands, they're shaking. He's still so scared. But courage isn't a lack of fear, its doing something despite it. He blinks back the terrified sting in his eyes, and twiddles with his hands. "I'm- I'm not here to hurt you." He stammers, "I promise. I'm not my parents."

It's silent for a long moment, and then there's an animalistic-like hiss from his left. He turns his head, and there's a ghost of a man curled up in a cage, staring him down with a thunderous look on his face. "Liar." He hisses, his voice warping in that hissy language. There are goat-like horns protruding from his head, and his eyes are yellow and slitted. He's dripping ectoplasm from his chest.

Danny swallows the bile in his throat.

And frowns. "I'm not lying." He says, and the ghost doesn't get hostile, much to his surprise. But there's a ripple of murmurs that spreads through the room like a wave at a ballgame. The ghost that spoke stares at him, then squints.

"You understand us, child?"

And - okay, Danny doesn't like the 'child' comment. He's fourteen for goodness sake, and he bristles silently like it's an insult, but he's no there to argue, he's here to help. So he swallows his pride and starts to walk towards the closed portal.

His legs are shaking, he's afraid they're gonna give out beneath him. The portal scares him, more than it did when he first saw it. But maybe that's because when he first saw it, he hadn't almost died from it.

His heart is pounding in his ears. Is it going to give out again, will he have to go to the hospital again? Despite his insistence that he's fine, Danny's heart hasn't beat right ever since the accident. He's checked. He spent an hour every night with his fingers pressed against the pulse point at his throat, at his wrist, terrified of the slow-beating he could feel thrumming against the skin.

Hearts aren't supposed to beat that slow - that much he knows. He's afraid he's going to drop dead if it drops any lower.

"Of course I do." He swallows, glancing back at the ghost. Everyone's eyes are on him, they burn into him, curious, wary, afraid. He's in front of the portal, in front of the keypad to open it. Shit, did dad put in a password? "Am I- am I not supposed to?"

He pauses to look at the ghost, and the man has moved to stare at him from a new angle in his cage - god he's gonna need to find the key. Mom and dad probably have it in their desk, right?

The ghost is silent. "...No. You're not." He says, and his head tilts to the side as Danny mentally translates in his head. he looks at Danny like he's trying to inspect him, like he's trying to look into him like his parents have looked into the ghost. "What is your name, child?"

"I'm not a child." He bites out, and immediately winces. Shit- he just said not to antagonize them. But the ghost doesn't look offended. In fact, he just grins a sharp, toothy grin like a shark, and raspy giggles and titters echo through the room.

...That's... probably a good sign. "Um," he continues, and turns his back to the keypad. Dad's birthday? He punches into the keys. "I'm- uh, Danny. Danny Fentom- Fanton- Fenton. My parents are- uh, the ones who took you guys." The keypad buzzes and the bar spots red. Wrong password. Dammit.

"Phantom." The ghost says, and the name crawls like a spider across the walls, sneaking up his spine and ringing in the air like the leftover taste of rain and thunder. the rest of the ghosts whisper it amongst themselves.

Danny shivers, it feels like a weight in his chest. It's Fenton, he thinks, but doesn't correct. He doesn't want to push his luck with the being that could tear him apart. "Uh, sure."

He punches in mom's birthday. Wrong. He puts in Jazz's. Wrong. "How come we haven't seen you down here, Phantom?" The ghost asks, and Danny shrugs helplessly. "You are the Danny that the unknown girl yells about?"

He tries his own birthday. Wrong. Fuck. What's the password? The tremor in his limbs worsens with his anxiety, and he tries to keep his breathing steady. What if he can't get this open? What if he can't get them out? He nearly forgets to answer the ghost, and licks his dry lips. "Um- yeah, that's me. The Danny guy." He says, turning to the cages again. "And uh, I don't come down here because my parents don't allow it."

The ghost, uh, goat-man? Tilts his head, there are whispers throughout the room that pick up. And Danny feels like the kid late to an all school assembly and now has to walk past the whole school to find a seat.

Goat-man smiles again, or bares his teeth? "You are the reason why the human doctors haven't cut into us more than they already have." And- that's- that's good? He thinks?

"That's- good, right? You- you don't want to be cut open, so it's good that I, uh, indirectly stopped it a few times?"

A round of titters goes through the room again. The man's grin widens inhumanly so, and Danny's heart spikes with fear. "Yes, it's a good thing, Phantom child." He says, "Why is it that your parents do not let you come down here?"

Danny stares, and swallows again, dry. The back of his neck tingles, and he tastes electricity on his tongue. "I had an accident down here, um, nearly two months ago." His eyes flick to the cable cord where the portal was plugged in, and his heart flutters with the images of green that got burned behind his eyes. He looks away. "The portal, it, ah, electrocuted me. I was in the hospital because it nearly killed me."

"It did kill you." The ghost says immediately, and terror fills up in Danny like water flooding a room. What? What? What? He was alive. His heart was beating, he was alive. "But only for a moment. You've been touched by death, Phantom."

That was so fucking ominous. And terrifying. And terrifyingly ominous. And also really horrifying. Danny does a swift pirouette and turns back to the keypad. Time to figure out the passcode and not think about that, ever again, actually.

"Wow." He rasps, his mind numb as he punches in a random code of numbers and gets a red screen. "How reassuring. Tell death I want a refund." He gets laughter again, and his shoulders scrunch up to his ears.

"It is the reason you can understand us, then." The ghost says behind him. "We are not speaking your language child - rather, you are speaking ours."

Again. Fucking ominous. Danny furrows his brows and stares hard at the keypad - if he was dad, and he wanted to put a password lock on his lifetime achievement in something that was easy to remember and equally important, what would it be?

Oh. Right.

He bites back a groan - how obvious. Danny's an idiot. Or maybe just so scared witless that his brain isn't working right. "Fudge." He grumbles, and punches it into the keypad. It dings green.

Of - fucking - course. Danny rolls his eyes.

He hears a hiss, and Danny rapidly scuttles back as the massive blast doors twisted open like something out of a scifi movie - he'd be geeking out if he wasn't aware of his own rapid heartbeat. Like a gun charging up, an unearthly green glow appears at the back of the tunnel an d then rapidly moves towards him, growing larger and larger.

Danny flinches, half-convinced its going to hit him. He was going to be vaporized, and he brings up his arms to protect himself. But nothing happens, and he peeks open an eye that he closed when the ghost from before murmurs for him to open them.

The portal is - is, well. Indescribable. It fills the dark room with its glow, swirling like a those weird, shimmering liquid dyes put into martini glasses in those aesthetic gifs on the internet. And the light it casts on the walls shimmers and moves like the aurora borealis.

Danny is speechless. It's... oddly beautiful. And terrifying. There's a whole new world in that dimension - if he steps through he won't be on earth anymore.

And... his parents wanted to eradicate the people on the other side of it?

He whirls on foot, his back to the portal - a thing that fills him with dread. his shaking - its worse. Danny almost thinks his feet will give out. "Do - do any of you know where mom and dad keep the keys to the cages?" He asks, but he's already stalking towards the desk on the other side of the room.

The people in the cages grow restless, and they've been silent for the most part - but with the portal open, and him going to find the keys, they'd begun to grow talkative. They were moving more in the cages, talking to each other, excitement filling the air with so much hope Danny could feel it resonating between his ribs.

A new voice, quiet and feminine, speaks up on the opposite side of the goat-man's cage. She's closer to the desk, and she has also been cut open. There are black tears staining her face, and her shock white hair floats like she's underwater. Immediately, on instinct, Danny's head supplies him with a word.

Banshee.

"In the bottom drawer, Phantom." She whispers, her voice lilting and melodic. Her pitch black eyes follow him across the room. "I've seen them put it there after putting us back into our cages."

He nods mutely, and again feels horrified by their treatment from his parents. His pace quickens to the desk, and just as the banshee woman said, there are keys in the bottom drawer sitting on top of a bunch of research papers that have a suspicious green stain on them.

Danny ignores the stain and grabs the keys, holding them up as he closes the drawer. When he turns back to the cages, all eyes are on him. "Um," he rasps, "I found the key." Who do I free first?

His eyes land on the banshee woman first, she's the closest to the desk. And in an arc he follows the lineup to the other side side of the room. He moves to the banshee woman's cage first, and she perks up as he kneels down to the door.

"I'll- I'll go in a circle, first." He announces, fingers fumbling with the key as he inserts it into the hole. The banshee woman had her fingers - clawed and knife-like, capable of tearing out his throat in an instant - around the bars of her confinement. She was staring at him intently.

He hesitates, and looks up. Her eyes are pitch black, he noticed this before, but this close its like its threatening to suck him in and send him swirling through a blackhole. "If- if I free you," he stammers, licking his lips, "will you attack me?"

The banshee woman bares her razor teeth at him, and reaches through the bars to touch his face. It takes all Danny's restraint not to flinch as her nails drag down his cheek softly. "No," she says, "you're freeing us, Phantom. We will not attack you."

Danny.. will just have to take her word for it. He nods, and with a sharp twist of his wrist unlocks the cage with one hand, and flings open the door with the other. In an instant, the banshee dives forward -- Danny thinks she's lunging at him, and flinches violently.

She goes through him instead, leaving him with a bone-deep chill and a heartbeat in his ears. He turns, and sees her dive through the portal like a swimmer diving into a pool.

There is silence throughout the room. And then everyone else begins to clamor once again, just like when Danny first walked in. Danny hurries to hush them - he said he was going around the room! He'll free them, but be quiet, or you'll wake his parents!

He rushes for the next cage, and one by one opens each and every cage. There are cheers, and thank yous, and cries of gratitude. He has to help the weaker ghosts out of their cage and limp them towards the portal. His shirt and hands are stained green with their blood.

(When he goes back up to his room later, he throws it off and throws it away. He can't stand the sight of it, and he scrubs his hands until they're raw.)

It's a lot for Danny to not burst into tears, or to throw up. Until finally he reaches goat-man's cage, and releases him. He is one of the ghosts too weak to fly on their own, and so Danny lets him lean against him and helps him to the portal.

"Will you be okay?" He asks once they are at the threshold, the portal hums softly this close to it. Almost like its trying to beckon Danny inside, like a siren song. Danny ignores it. "Will everyone else?"

"We will heal, Phantom." Goatman says, holding a hand to his chest. He looks tired, this close, and Danny can feel him looking at him, even without any pupils to show it. "Once back inside the Infinite Realms our bodies will heal on its own."

Danny nods silently, and his frown begins to wobble. The stress he's been under is finally starting to take its toll, and he is emotionally exhausted. There is still a lingering taste of fear in the air that doesn't belong to him - but the ghosts that have left. "I'm sorry." He croaks, his voice cracking. "I didn't - I didn't think you guys were human. I'm sorry."

The ghost's expression softens, but he still looks stern. "We aren't human." he says, and Danny frowns, confused. The ghost continues, and reaches out a long finger to tap against Danny's chest, where his heart is. "But do not think for a moment that humanity can be measured by the sound of a heartbeat, child. We are just as humane as you living can be, and we are just as sentient and sapient as you. Do not forget that, and you will not become your parents."

There's nothing for Danny to say to that, except nod once again. His tongue is heavy in his mouth, made of lead. "This will happen again," he continues, and his eyes prick, "they're gonna keep catching ghosts and bringing them down here." And hurting them.

Goatman nods curtly, and raises an eyebrow at Danny. "What will you do to stop them, Phantom?" He asks, "You could keep releasing them after they have been already caught, but that will not stop the pain they face under the hands of your parents."

He's right. He's right. And if Danny keeps releasing them afterwards, his parents will grow suspicious. They'll start sticking around trying to catch whoever is freeing the ghosts. And Danny doesn't want to face what will happen if his parents realize that he's the one freeing ghosts.

His eyes flicker rapidly around the room, trying to think of a solution - what could he do? What can he do?

His eyes land on the thermos sitting on the table.

"I... I could catch ghosts?" He says, unsure, and looks back to the ghost. He nods, beckoning for Danny to continue. "I can catch them in the thermos before my parents do, and then release them back to the Zone."

"That will work." The ghost says, "The thermos doesn't hurt to be in, it's merely cramped. Will you follow through on this?"

"Yes."

The ghost smiles at him a third and final time, his teeth glinting in the green portal light. "Then good luck, Danny Phantom."

He lets go, and disappears into the portal.

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #tw mentions of blood #dpdc #clone^2 #tw mentions of experimentation #dp dc #dpxdc ficlet #dpxdc au #dp x dc au #danny fenton is a clone #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danny: my name is danny fentom - fenton #ghost: hello danny phantom #i thought that was a clever way for danny to get his 'phantom' vigilante name. although if that hadnt happened he still would've chosen #phantom as his vigilante name. it just would've happened differently. danny being terrified of the ghosts but still going through with #freeing them anyways #will rpobably reblog later with a continuation of him actually deciding to sneak out as phantom. but thats a hard maybe.#its a danny phantom fic so its kinda expected for them to be OSME kind of horror elements to it. thats the best part!#i left a few details out like how the portal light made danny's hair look white from a certain angle from where the light was hitting it #alerting all ghosts but danny that danny has been affected by the infinite realms in some way and was not as human as he seemed.#altho that was obvious by the fact that he could understand ghostspeak when no living being should be able to #ghost: dont judge humanity by the sound of a heartbeat #i had another tag i was gonna put here - what was it??? will add later if. i remember #NOW I REMEMBER #parental ambuigity from the fenton parents. are they good are they bad? up to interpretation

261 notes · View notes

steddieasitgoes · 4 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 21 Prompt: Home and/or Dinner

I honestly think this is my favorite one yet!

Tags: Pre-Relationship Steddie, Eddie Munson Has A Crush On Steve Harrington, Holiday Parties, Overstimulation (the bad kind, not the fun kind), Steve Harrington Is A Sweetheart

wc: 2215 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

The holidays were always a quiet affair at the Munsons.

A few gifts, wrapped in week-old copies of the Hawkins Post, placed under a modest tree from Merrill’s. Wayne’s famous (well, famous to Eddie) chocolate chip pancakes in the morning with a questionable amount of syrup and a reheated casserole from Ms. Jenkins down the street for dinner.

No church or family plans, just the two of them, a couple of beers (root beer in Eddie’s case until a few years ago), and whatever movie Eddie had insisted they watch before he turned the TV over to Wayne and the Christmas basketball game.

It was good. Great, even.

Eddie loved his holiday traditions with Wayne.

He did, but sometimes he’d catch sight of Ms. Jenkins welcoming her brood of kids and grandkids into her cluttered trailer or spot Gerald loading the passenger seat of his pickup with toys for his nieces and nephews and wonder what it would be like to have a big family to spend the holidays with.

Turns out, it’s loud.

So, very, loud.

The Hopper-Byers’ new house is bursting at the seams with guests. The entire We Survived The End of the World gang is here along with some guests — Wayne and Ms. Henderson. Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair stopped by for about an hour before excusing themselves to finish up holiday shopping (said in a hushed tone to not ruin Santa for Erica — as if she still believes, Eddie had thought). But mostly it was just the usual gang.

Eddie learned, in the form of Dustin’s “you’re being stupid” voice that it's become a tradition for them. Gathering a week before the holidays to pig out on food and dessert, play games, and exchange presents. Celebrate the year coming to an end and them making it.

As the apocalypse gang grew every year, the celebration got bigger and bigger until they were tripping over each other inside of the Byers house. That is, until this year when Joyce and Hopper got their shit together and finally moved into a decent-sized house on the outskirts of Hawkins. It’s no Loch Nora mini-mansion, but it works for them — even if it's still a tight fit when everyone is together.

Murray, Joyce, and Ms. Henderson are gathered in the kitchen — arguing over when to take the turkey out of the oven and the proper milk-to-cheese ratio in macaroni casseroles. A small radio sits in the corner, attempting to play Christmas music over the static. That’s the con about living farther out, Eddie supposes.

El and Max have claimed a fold-out table on the outskirts of the kitchen where they’ve been decorating cookies for hours, it seems. El’s simple and artistic, Max’s a chaotic mess of spilled-over frosting and candy sprinkles. (Eddie’s stolen one from each and thinks they’re both delicious much to their delight.)

The den’s been co-opted by Hopper and Wayne, and the TV volume turned all the way up (“We can hear just fine! It’s you kids that are making it hard,” Hopper gruffed when one of them pointed out the volume). They’re switching between basketball games while nursing beers and pretending not to hear the argument going down in the kitchen.

Jonathan and Argyle are hiding out in his room — smoking and trying to drown out the noise with whatever record he managed to pick up from the store he’s working at. Eddie thought about joining him, but the scowl he earned from Wheeler Jr. had him changing course.

The rest of them have taken refuge in the spacious basement. It’s too chaotic for Dungeons & Dragons so the boys and Erica have taken to playing an intense game of Monopoly. The threats he’s heard hurled at each other have been clever and downright terrifying. Way worse than anything they’ve uttered at his DM table. Those heathens.

For some reason, Steve’s taken on the role of the banker. Something about Dustin skimming from the top last time he held the role and played. Now, house rules say the banker has to be an NPC, and well, Steve fits the bill. Unfortunately, he seems to be struggling with the math of it all judging by the scoffs and annoyed eye rolls thrown his way. Eddie would go help, but he doesn’t think he’d be much help. Godspeed, Steve.

Nancy and Robin are there too, sprawled out on the couch and lost in their own little world. Occasionally Robin gets up to flip the record on the record player, but mostly they sit together, gossiping and talking about who knows what in hushed voices. Eddie might understand every little thing about dungeons and hobbits, but girl talk? That’s an alien language if he’s ever seen one.

As for him? Well, he’s hovering in the middle of it all. With Steve occupied, he’s taken on his babysitter role of sorts. Racing up and down the stairs to fetch whatever snacks the gremlins demand, rustling Max and El’s hair on the way in, and nodding at Hopper and Wayne on the way out. He narrowly escapes being sucked into being the official judge for the impromptu Murray vs Ms. Henderson pie off and almost makes it up to Jonathan and Argyle’s room before Dustin is bellowing for him.

It’s fun, mostly.

Getting to see everyone relaxed and having fun. A far cry from the last time they were all together like this back in March.

In some ways, it's what Eddie’s always dreamed it would be like. Being part of a big family, a cog in a never-ending machine of noise and organized chaos.

But it’s also becoming a lot.

Lucas is about to put a hotel on Boardwalk that has everyone shouting and throwing their own pieces at his head. Steve’s trying to keep them under control but it's a losing battle. One that pulls Robin and Nancy from their own little world to join the chaos.

And then there’s even more noise.

A crash from upstairs, the blaring voice of Joe Strummer coming from Jonathan’s room, more shouting, Wayne and Hoppers stopping, and giggles from Max and El.

Suddenly all Eddie can hear is noise.

It gets louder and louder and louder until finally, he’s certain his eardrums are going to explode.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he pushes through the chaos going on upstairs (dropped pies and frosting stains and shouting at TVs) and makes his way onto the wrap-around porch.

The crisp cold air is the first thing that hits him. Like an idiot, he ran out of the house without a coat or scarf or hell, even the warm hat Ms. Henderson knitted for him earlier in the month. He shivers, rubbing his hands up and down his bare arm as he tries to take deep breaths, watching as his warm breath twirls in the breeze.

As his body adjusts, so do his ears. He can still hear the chaos going on inside, but it's muffled now. Distant. He can hear himself think for the first time in hours and for once, it’s nice.

The snow is falling in slow but steady flakes, dusting the backyard in the white. Or, it should be white, but the hoard of Christmas lights decorating the house illuminates the backyard in reds and greens. It’s a real Christmas wonderland out there, now.

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes and his trusty lighter. The first inhale of nicotine warms him from the inside out, sending the goosebumps packing as he focuses on his steady and slow inhale and exhales.

At some point he zones out, so focused on the snow falling and the repetitive nature of lifting the cigarette to and from his lips that he doesn’t hear the creak of the door or the heavy footsteps that follow until the intruder is standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Figured you might be needing this,” Steve says, hand outstretched with Eddie’s coat.

“Thanks, man.”

They swap, Eddie takes the coat from Steve and Steve takes the lit cigarette from Eddie, keeping it safe while he shimmies his way into the monstrosity that he calls his winter coat. When he’s finally situated in the plaid nightmare, he reaches a hand out ready to take his cigarette back only to find it perched between Steve’s lips.

Oh.

That’s different.

Sure, they’ve smoked together before. Bummed off cigarettes in the ally behind Family Video and in the parking lot of Palace Arcade waiting for the gremlins to be done. But they’ve never shared the same one. Never pressed their lips to the same filter. Felt the dampness of their mouths on their own lips.

“Sorry,” Steve says, lips turning up in a small smile as he removes the cigarette. “Couldn’t help myself.”

Eddie nods, unable to say much else as their fingertips brush when he takes it back. Is it weird if he puts it between his lips right now? Is he supposed to wait a minute? Let Steve’s taste linger for a moment. God, he’s being so weird right now. In the end, he brings the cigarette to his lips and takes the smallest inhale, nearly coughing as the smoke floods his lungs because he’s so distracted by the way the filter feels different now that it’s been in Steve’s mouth — as if that makes any sense.

“You okay? You sort of booked it out of the room.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, before leaning against the banister of the porch. “Yeah, m’good. It just—“

“Got too loud?” Steve supplies, mirroring his position. “I get it. I remember my first holiday dinner. There were a lot less of us in ’83 but shit. It was still so loud.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m a pretty loud son of a bitch.” Eddie’s caught off guard by Steve’s snorting. Stealing a glance, he finds Steve lit up in reds and greens, a smile etched on his face so deep he can see the spot where smile lines are going to emerge in the next ten years, catching the way his eyes already wrinkle in the corners. Fuck, he’s beautiful. “But, uh, yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house that loud before. Not even when I’m fucking around with the Corroded Coffin boys.”

“Well, I doubt that. Your music is very loud.”

“Uh, yeah, ‘cause it's metal, Steve.”

“So I’ve been told,” Steve says, smiling that soft, private smile again.

If Eddie was braver, he’d close the distance between them and press his lips to his. But if this year has taught him anything, it’s that he’s not. Not really. So he lets a quiet fall between them instead. They continue to stand shoulder to shoulder, passing the dwindling cigarette between them despite the pack in Eddie’s pocket being brand new, and watch as the snow steadily starts to pick up.

“You know,” Steve says, then stops.

Eddie turns, watching the gears tick in Steve’s brain as he decides what to say next. It’s magical watching it all pass on his face — the knit of his brows, his pupils dilating and returning to their normal size, letting the hazel shine through. The way his lips open and close like some gasping fish.

“If it ever gets to be too much, you can tell us. Tell me. Hell, I know I need a break after a few hours with those shitheads. Maybe we could come up with a code word or something.”

“A codeword? That’s might nerdy of you, Steve.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, waving his hand through the air as he bites back a chuckle. “But yeah, a code word. It’d be easier to say than “hey it’s too loud and I can’t think” you know. Plus, it would annoy the shit out of Henderson.”

“Well, then. Count me in. You know I love annoying the shit out of that kid. Gotta keep that ego in check somehow.”

They spend the next few minutes going back and forth trying to decide on a word that could work. Steve wants something common — a fruit or a vegetable. Eddie disagrees, saying it has to be something uncommon so they don’t accidentally say it, but common enough that it doesn’t sound weird casually being dropped in conversation.

They wrack their brain, throwing out silly words left and right until there’s a crash from inside. Their heads swivel in tandem toward the source of the noise. A flurry of shadows passes on the other side of the window as Steve shakes his head and sighs.

“Come on,” he says, handing the cigarette back to Eddie. “If we’re not at the table the minute the food gets served, we won’t be eating. The gremlins know no manner.”

Eddie laughs, stubbing out the cigarette on the ashtray precariously balanced on the banister, “Teaching ‘em manners seems like a job for their babysitter.”

“Nah,” Steve snorts. “Maybe one for their Dungeon Master, though.”

Just as the words leave Steve’s lip, there’s a shout from inside followed by another crash.

“Think it might be a job for both of us, actually,” Eddie laughs. “Together?”

“We need all the help we can get,” Steve says. “Together it is.”

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddie ficlet #steddie fan fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson ficlet #eddie fic #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic #dani writes

197 notes · View notes

rottingpirate · 1 year

Note

Hey, may I request some headcanons for tf 141 and los vaqueros where reader is M. I. A (missing in action) and then came back?

Sorry if this is bad and thank you!

Nah, It's great :) Also I hope you don't mind if I do it in two parts

Ghost

One month.

To Ghost time felt like a fever dream. It felt like forever since he lost sight of you during the mission. It felt like forever since you two exchnaged glances and checked up on each other.

He felt stupid for thinking you were okay when you didn't answer your walkie-talkie.

They found your rifle, but no body, which gave him some hope.

You were a strong fighter and you’ve survived worse than just some kidnapping.

At least he hoped it was just some kidnapping.

He gathered a team for a rescue mission but nothing turned up, it was like you just vanished into thin air.

Time went by and still no contact.

M.I.A. does not mean dead, of course, but it's often as good as.

He went back to work, as much as he didn’t want to, accepting that you were dead somewhere.

You were doing horrible on your end.

You were separated from your squad and knocked unconsious.

You woke up in some basement, tied to a chair with people surrounding you.

They people that kidnapped you wanted information, but you didn't break no matter how long they tortured and interrogated you for.

They moved you from one building to another as to not be caught and during the third time when you were being lead by one of the guys who was not exactly paying attention to you and talking with his friend over the comms. You took that as an opportunity and got out of his grasp, killing him in the process.

That didn't end well as you were knocked out in the end by another guy who snuck up on you.

When Simon was told one month later that they might've found where you were he flipped.

You were found and brought back to the base.

Some of your ribs were broken along with your nose, you had bruises all over and they noticed that two of your teeth have been pulled out.

You could withstand any pain but knowing that your team missed you. That Simon missed you is what hurt you the most.

Simon has never run to treatment facility as fast as he did that day, all he knew was that one moment he just stood over your sleeping body.

He was too scared to hold your hand, so he just sat there watching you til you woke up.

After that he was scared to let you stay alone during missions.

Soap

There was no reason to be worried Soap told himself over and over

You didn't answer your comms, yes, you disppeared during a mission, yes, and no one had heard of you in the last few days, also yes. But that in and of itself didn’t mean anything.

Still, he couldn’t help but worry.

It wouldn’t be the first time soldiers vanished without a trace, especially among those who were fighting, and he suspected some might never be found, not even after the end of the mission.

It's been two weeks and you were considered M.I.A.

It didn't make it better that it was Christmas eve and you were fucking M.I.A.

You were supposed to be with him, curled up in a blanket, watching sappy movies and throwing pop corn at each other.

Instead he was alone, sitting in one of your hoodies and hugging your pillow that still smelled of your shower gel.

He cried not being able to handle this shit and soon enough, he fell asleep defeated.

Meanwhile what he didn't know, was a silhouette that hissed while getting out of a car.

You were kidnapped, god nows how you got out. On your own at that.

As you got out, taking down the people that kidnapped you with a rifle and some knives, you passed out due to blood loss.

You were found by some civillian couple who had no idea who you were, but took you to the nearest hospital.

You spend a good week in there until you just couldn't take it anymore. You had to get out of there and tell your team that you were alive. Why didn't you just call them?

You didn't escape, but you kind of escaped before the doctors gave you the permission to leave because you were still very injured.

As you got out of the cab, you thanked the driver one more time and made your way towards the house.

It was dark, no lights or Christmas tree were seen through the windows and you felt guilty, clenching your jaw.

As you walked inside, took your boots off and dropped your bag you quietly made your way over to the kitchen, seeing as there was a light on.

There he was, your Johnny, asleep while hugging one of your pillows.

You took a chair next to him and played with his growing mohawk.

After a few seconds, he slowly opened his eyes, brushing your hand away.

You softly greeted him, smiling at how his eyes suddenly wided as he straighteend his back.

His breathing increased rapidly and he wondered if he was still dreaming.

Before you knew it, you were lying on the cold floor with Johnny hardly hugging you.

You winced in pain as you were still very much injured, but you didn't care as long as he was in your arms.

He did apologize later so it's fine.

You spent the next few days celebrating holidays while huddled up together on the couch. He didn't let go of you no matter what.

#call of duty modern warfare ii #cod x gn reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #gn reader #male reader #cod x male reader

1K notes · View notes

woah-were-halfway-there · 4 months

Text

Just What I Needed

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: here is the official rewritten and revamped first part of JWIN 🥹 it’s Carson and Auston discovering they’re expecting again and has been changed quite a bit. Hope you enjoy!

~*~

It was during a late evening in November when the thought of telling Auston what Carson spent the last few days running through her mind.

The two of them were at home, cuddled up on the couch together with one almost empty glass of wine, and one full one sitting on the coffee table nearby. Mia had fallen asleep fairly early that night, still adjusting to the time change of only being home from Sweden. So Carson and Auston decided to make the most of this chill Wednesday evening at home before he was set to leave the following afternoon with the team as they travelled to Chicago and then Pittsburgh. He wouldn’t be back until late that Saturday night.

At first, they were going to watch a movie together. But after Auston poured those two glasses of wine and the two of them engaged in a deep conversation about life, a movie wasn’t needed for they were both just so content with the others' presence.

It was peaceful. Frank was asleep in Mia’s room with her and Matthew had called it an early night, retreating to the basement after helping Carson clean up once they all finished eating dinner and Auston was upstairs bathing Mia. So, it was just Carson and Auston hanging out in their sweats relaxing together.

Carson wasn’t sure how or when she ended up in the position of almost laying directly on top of Auston, with her head resting against his chest and his arms wrapped protectively around her as Gloria by The Lumineers played softly from the TV and she watched their Christmas tree twinkle over in the corner by the big window, but she wasn’t too mad about either.

Everything about that moment seemed perfect, but then Carson glanced back to that full glass of wine.

There was a reason she wasn’t drinking and a huge part of her wondered if Auston had noticed. It was likely that he did but didn’t feel the need to bring it up or pressure her into giving him an answer, which made Carson feel a lot better about the thoughts running through her mind.

See, there was a reason she wasn’t drinking. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, because realistically, she wasn’t one to pass up wine, like ever. But she had been refraining from drinking it because there was something she just had to be sure about before she did.

She’d been feeling off as of late. It started shortly before they left for Sweden. There were some days Carson wouldn’t have much of an appetite, and others that she would have trouble getting out of bed because she just felt so crappy.

Auston noticed, naturally. He always did and became a little concerned about the upcoming trip if Carson wasn’t feeling well. Carson, however, insisted she was fine. She focused on powering through whatever she was feeling because she wanted to be there, supporting her husband in Stockholm and experiencing something so unforgettable. Carson also was determined to not let a little illness get to her because there she had a very sassy little girl whom she loved more than anything in the world and needed her mama.

Mia was roughly two months away from being two years old, which was absolutely crazy to Carson. Time had flown by and earlier that day while out on a walk with her, Auston and Frank, she found herself thinking back to when she found out she was pregnant with her daughter in the first place.

Finding out they were expecting Mia was an entire whirlwind of an experience. Carson was ridiculously sick and hadn’t even considered the thought of being pregnant, but after talking with Ema about the symptoms she had, Carson knew it was a possibility. Later that same evening, was when she found out she was going to be a mom.

Remembering that while hunched over the toilet in the bathroom of their hotel in Stockholm, waiting for a wave of nausea to pass, was when Carson started to think she might be pregnant again. The signs were there, her period was late. The more Carson thought about it, the more she became convinced that’s what was going on.

Except, they were in Sweden.

Being in Stockholm was an incredible experience, but it was also hectic. There was so much going on, that Carson barely had any time to just chill and process everything. As soon as the thought of being pregnant again crept into her mind, she wanted to tell Auston. While their group was out for dinner and she hardly ate and mainly just sipped on her water, others picked up on something being off.

Steph mentioned it, Mitch did too and of course, so did Auston. However, he didn’t want to make a scene about it because he knew Carson wouldn’t want that.

During dinner, when Mia got fussy, Carson was quick to excuse her and Mia to go outside and get some fresh air, but Auston wasn’t far behind them. Not only did he want to help with Mia and make her feel better, but he needed to check in on Carson too. They weren’t outside for long before Willy showed up and took Mia from them saying he’d hang out with her and they could go back inside.

Carson tried to tell him that wasn’t necessary, but before she could, Willy was already wandering off with Mia and she was gradually getting in better spirits being with one of her favourite guys.

Before going back inside, Auston checked in on Carson. He said how he noticed she wasn’t eating and how that did concern him which made Carson feel so guilty. She wanted to tell him everything about how she was feeling and that she suspected she may be pregnant again, but she didn’t want to get too ahead of herself. Maybe it was an illness after all and it was easy for her to go along with that.

She should’ve told him and she knew that, but she just couldn’t. The trip was about the Leafs and Carson’s nagging thoughts told her if she did mention that to Auston, she’d be making it about her. She didn’t want to do that, so she held off.

As the days went on, Carson became rather low energy and the morning sickness didn’t subside. She became more convinced that what she suspected was true and she was indeed pregnant.

It killed her not knowing, but it killed her even more that she still hadn’t communicated any of this with Auston. Carson felt terrible but was so set on waiting until they were back in Toronto to tell him. She just hadn’t found the right time, but what better time than when she and Auston are having a relaxing evening at home together?

She had to do it, she couldn’t wait any longer.

“Hey, Aus,” Carson started and lifted her head off his chest so that she could look at him as she spoke. “Can I ask you something?”

It wasn’t until Carson was facing Auston that she noticed his eyes were shut, or just how content and peaceful he was lying there with her. I instantly made her feel worse for disturbing him.

Slowly though, Auston’s eyes fluttered open and he gave Carson a tiny smile. “Of course.”

“Uh, you know what? Nevermind. It’s alright. You’re resting, we can talk about it another time.”

“Bub,” Auston said and gave his wife a pointed glance before squeezing her side, making her squirm. “I can assure you that talking isn’t going to wear me out. What’s on your mind?”

“I know,” Carson sighed. “It’s just that it’s not exactly an easy topic to discuss. Pretty serious, actually. And, I don’t know, this isn’t how I planned talking about it either.”

“Carson. You can talk to me about anything at any time.”

He then leaned forward to peck Carson’s lips, making her melt on the inside a bit, but increasing her nerves.

“I- would you ever want to have another baby one day?”

At that, Auston raised his eyebrows, indicating how that was not a question he expected so out of the blue. “I mean, you know the answer. We’ve briefly talked about more kids in the future and I love the thought, but that’s not really for me to decide. It’s your body, and I don’t know. That’s something we can decide together regardless of what I want.”

“Good answer,” Carson told him with a smile as he winked at her.

“Why? Is that something you’ve been thinking about?”

“Kind of.”

“Do you want to have another baby?” He questioned while shifting so he could sit a little more upright, still careful to not shift Carson’s position in the process, though.

“I don’t hate the thought,” Carson stated. “At all. We lucked out with our little sass queen and, god, I just love her so much. Can you imagine her being a big sister?”

“That’s crazy to think about,” Auston chuckled. “But yes, I could see it. And I mean, I grew up with siblings. I’d love for my kids to have that too.”

“Mia is just such a people person already, I could see her loving having a younger sibling. Frank probably wouldn’t mind either.”

“As long as he gets his treats and belly rubs I’m pretty sure Frank will be fine with just about anything,” Auston replied, making Carson smile. “So, yes, you would like to have more kids one day?”

“I would,” Carson told him firmly. “I just don’t know when a good time would be like Mia isn’t even two yet. What is a good time gap between having children? There’s just so many questions I have.”

“Well, I think with our current life situations, there is no such thing as a bad time to have another baby,” Auston reasoned, and Carson knew he had a good point. “But we don’t have to figure that out right now. We can just go with the flow and see what happens.”

“See that’s the thing,” Carson started and took a deep breath. “There’s a reason I wanted to ask you that question.”

“And why is that?” He asked, looking at her softly but Carson could tell he was eagerly waiting for her response. So, she took a deep breath and finally shared what had been on her mind as of late.

“I think I might be pregnant again.”

It took Auston a moment to process what Carson had just said and wrap his head around the concept entirely. When she brought up the topic of having another baby one day, he didn’t think she meant right then. But at the same time, he didn’t care because there was a possibility he might have another little bean running around soon, and he loved that thought.

“Are you serious?” He finally breathed out and noticed just how anxious Carson seemed.

“I- yeah. I haven’t been physically ill like I was when we found out I was pregnant with Mia, but I’ve had quite a bit of morning sickness. Or at least that’s what I think it is. I don’t know, I feel like there’s just something going on with my body, and I mean, there’s still the likelihood that I’m not pregnant again, but, my period is late and-.”

“Hey, you don’t have to justify yourself,” Auston spoke up when Carson began rambling. She was thankful for how well he was handling what she said, but Carson still felt overly emotional about it as she shifted away from him and started fiddling with the throw blanket that covered them as a way to keep herself from crying. However, it didn’t take long for Auston to notice what she was doing. “Babe, come here. Talk to me, please.”

Auston sat upright and moved to pull Carson close to him again. Once his arm was around her waist, though, he hesitated because he wasn’t sure if she wanted her space or not, but when she didn’t move away, he took that as a sign to continue.

“How long have you been thinking this?”

“Since we were in Sweden,” Carson blubbered. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but it wasn’t the time. And I know that wasn’t a fair decision for me to make on my own because you are my partner and you deserve to know but, I just, I just couldn’t, Auston. I know you and I know that’s all you would’ve been thinking about during that trip but I didn’t want it to be.”

“As much as I wish you told me then so you wouldn’t have to keep this all on yourself,” Auston started softly. “I’m not going to be upset with you about it, Carse. But, I can tell you’re upset. What’s got you feeling this way, beautiful? This is good news.”

“I just need to know, Auston,” Carson whispered as she turned to face him again, and he didn’t miss a beat by reaching up to wipe away the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. “I need to know if I’m pregnant so bad, but at the same time, I don’t want to.”

“What do you mean?”

Carson sighed.

“I hate not knowing why I’m feeling the way that I am. If I’m not pregnant, then what’s wrong with me? And it’s also so much more than that too. The thought of having another baby right now is terrifying. What if something happens while you’re away or I just struggle because you’re not here? Remember how stressed we were about that kind of thing with Mia? Sure it all worked out, but the thought still makes me nervous, and the timing would be completely different, seeing as it’s November. You were in the off-season for pretty much the entire first half of my pregnancy last time, I had you with me when I felt like I needed it most. I don’t know, I feel like I’m getting so worked up now, but I worry about these things, Aus.”

“I understand,” Auston nodded and looked away thoughtfully, the expression on his face changing. But Carson knew that look, he was internally blaming himself over what she had said, but she refused to let him. “I’m sorry you feel stressed about this and that I can’t always be here. I wish I could, Carson. More than anything.”

“I know you do, and that’s enough, Auston. You’re enough.”

“It doesn’t always feel like it, though. I feel like I miss so many things. Mia is growing up insanely fast, and I’m not always here for it all. Who’s to say it won’t be the same or worse when we do have another baby?”

“You’re not missing anything, though. As much as I too wish you could be here all the time, you’re doing what you love. Mia and I will always be cheering you on as you do that too. Just because you’re away sometimes doesn’t mean Mia is going to forget about you or love you any less. You know damn well how much of a daddy’s girl she is. She can’t contain her excitement when you come home from a road trip because she loves you so much. I just know that if or when we have any more kids, it’ll be the same. You’re an incredible dad, Auston. I’m so lucky to have you as my partner in all of this.”

At that, Auston smiled before shaking his head.

“I thought I was the one trying to make you feel better.”

Carson chuckled.

“That’s kinda how we work, huh? Always levelling the other out in some way.”

“Always,” he replied before leaning forward to kiss her softly again. “We just get each other like that. Which is also how I know there’s something else that’s bothering you. Come on, spill.”

“You’re very observant, Matthews,” Carson mumbled while rolling her eyes.

“Please, you find it endearing.”

“I find it annoying,” she corrected, making him scoff as she chuckled at his reaction. “I’m kidding. But yeah, I guess there is something still bothering me, but it’s kind of hard to explain.”

“Try me,” Auston replied, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze.

“It’s just, yes, there are things that make me feel uneasy about the possibility of being pregnant, but as I said earlier, I really would love to have more kids. I love thinking about Mia being a big sister one day, and the thought of growing our family together. But what if right now isn’t the time to do so? Maybe there never will be a right time.”

“I don’t think the timing is an issue,” Auston stated and began tracing over Carson’s knuckles with his thumb. “I can’t think of us having more kids being at a bad time, ever. It could be now, or it could be months or years down the road, and I’d still be happy. But only if you’re ready, of course.”

“I think I am,” Carson told him honestly. “Which is also stressing me out because I want to be pregnant again. It feels weird to say out loud, but yeah, I’m hoping that I am pregnant, however, maybe I’m not Auston. I have this gut feeling that I am, but I’m afraid I’m getting my hopes up. A lot of people struggle with getting pregnant, and we can’t assume we won’t either just because we’ve already lucked out with our little girl.”

Carson stopped and wiped away a tear she could feel that was about to break free again. Auston was quiet, but after a moment of processing what she just said, he finally spoke up again.

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”

“More than I probably should be. I just really care about it, maybe a little too much.”

“There’s no such thing as caring too much,” he responded and nudged Carson’s shoulder so she’d look at him again. “You’re just full of so much love, and that’s fine. It’s part of what makes you an amazing mother to our daughter. But, regardless, we’re in this together. Although there may be some bumps along the way, everything is going to be fine. This may be one of those bumps, but it also might be what we’re hoping for. Pregnant or not, though, we’re going to be ok, Carson. I promise.”

Carson was full-on sobbing by that point. Auston always knew what to say when she needed to get out of her head a little bit, and this situation was no exception. She wasn’t crying because she was upset or frustrated, she was just so damn emotional having conversations like this one, but so thankful to have Auston help her get through them.

Once Auston realized Carson was crying again, he was quick to pull her into his embrace and hold onto her tightly. He didn’t say anything, just let her get those emotions out while gently rubbing her back and placing soft pecks on her head. After a minute or so went by, he began reassuring her and telling her how much he loved her all without letting go. It was no wonder how, after that, Carson eventually started feeling better.

“Thank you, Auston, I needed that,” she told him as she moved away, sniffling and wiping away any stray tears.

“Of course, I’m always going to be here for you, bub. Don’t feel like you have to bottle up anything, ok? We’re a team.”

“The best one,” Carson stated before letting out a shaky breath. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Auston replied while tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “So much. We’re going to be fine.”

“As long as we have each other.”

“Exactly,” he nodded with a smile.

Carson returned the smile before shrugging a little bit. “I don’t know how I’m going to wait until Sunday when you’re home again to take some tests and know for sure.”

“I could run to the pharmacy now and get some if you’d like,” he suggested. “Then we know. And depending on what they say, you can make an appointment with your doctor, and we can go from there.”

“Auston, I’m not going to make you go buy pregnancy tests for me,” Carson told him and shook her head.

“You’re not making me do anything, I’m offering to get them. It’ll take me no more than 20 minutes to go get some and come back. Would you feel better knowing tonight than waiting?”

“Well, yeah, but-.”

“Then I’ll do it, Carson, I’m sure I can manage to buy some pregnancy tests,” he retorted. “It’s not late, bub. It’s nothing for me to do. You stay here and relax, alright? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. But, I won’t get the tests if you don’t want to take them.”

“No, I do,” Carson started. “I want to see what they say at least. I just didn’t want to do it alone. That’s why I figured we wait until Sunday.”

“You’re not going to be alone. I’ll go right now and we can do this together. Deal?”

Carson smiled and looked down at his extended hand, chuckling at how he was going to make her shake in agreement with this game plan. But regardless, she took his hand and shook it; feeling even more nervous and excited than before.

“Deal.”

“Perfect,” he replied then pecked her lips once again before she rolled to the side and he got out from under her. “I’ll be right back.”

Carson watched as Auston rushed out of the living room and into the foyer where he fumbled to put on his shoes and a jacket. She tried to stop herself from laughing, but it was hard not to. He was excited and it made all soft and mushy on the inside.

“I love you!”

“I love you, too,” Carson chuckled as he blew her a kiss before rushing down the hallway to the garage. He was quiet making his way to the garage, but the noise of the garage door opening was a startle and something neither of them accounted for in their excitement.

“Oh, no,” Carson whispered to herself knowing what was about to come. Soon enough, she heard a bark from upstairs. Frank wasn’t one to go crazy with barking unless he felt threatened, but it wasn’t uncommon for him to bark at noises that startled him. It also wasn’t uncommon for the garage door to do just that, which led to the sounds of shuffling and groaning of a little girl who had just accidentally been woke up.

“Daddy?” Mia’s voice sounded through the monitor, sounding so sleepy. “Mama.”

“Should’ve seen that one coming,” Carson whispered to herself as she got up off the couch and hurried upstairs to go check on Mia. When she entered Mia’s room, unsurprisingly, Mia was sat up holding Whaley in one arm and knuckling at her eyes tiredly with the opposite hand. “Hi, sweet girl.”

Mia looked at her with a pout and then let out a dramatic huff, showing quite the resemblance to her father when he gets woken up unexpectedly.

“Fwank bawked, mommy.”

“He did bark, didn’t he? And it woke you up.”

“Yeah,” Mia replied and immediately crawled onto Carson’s lap once she sat at the edge of the bed.

“Oh, honey,” Carson said while Mia slumped against her chest and let out a big yawn. She then started gently rubbing Mia’s back as a way to soothe her back to sleep. “Why don’t we lay back down, baby? I’ll stay with you.”

“Daddy comin’?” Mia asked, not moving from her spot and letting out a sigh of contentment as Carson started playing with her curls.

“Daddy just ran to the store real quick, but he’ll be back soon. Now let’s lay back down.”

“I see him.”

“Mia,” Carson started to reason, but stopped when Mia leaned back to look up at her with those big brown eyes that were her absolute weakness. Something both Mia and Auston tended to use to their advantage. “You want to go downstairs and wait for your daddy to get home, don’t you?”

Mia just blinked in response, then giggled.

“You are your father’s daughter.”

And with that, Carson got up off the bed and carried Mia and Whaley downstairs to the living room, with Frank in tow, of course. The two girls got curled up on the couch together and Carson put on the sleepytime episode of Bluey for them to watch while they waited for Auston. Normally, Carson and Auston tried to refrain from screens when it was bedtime for Mia, but there were sometimes exceptions and this night was one of them.

Realistically, it was only 8:30pm, which was around Mia’s usual bedtime. Again, with the time change from travelling to Sweden, Mia’s bedtime routine had been off since getting home. She fell asleep almost right after dinner, hardly making it through bathtime then absolutely crashing shortly after 6:30pm. Carson knew Mia be up for a little while, but given how tired Mia was, there was no way she’d be up for very long once Auston was home.

Carson began gently scratching Mia’s head with her manicured nails, something she knew Mia loved. It was obvious Mia was content with the little sigh that left her mouth as she cuddled closer to her mom, eyes still fixated on the TV. Carson smiled as she looked down at Mia, then suddenly felt herself getting emotional over the thought of her sweet little girl potentially being a big sister. The thought hit Carson like a tidal wave and she started feeling all types of things, however, something kept her from getting too deep into her thoughts.

A door opened and closed from the kitchen and soft footsteps soon followed. It was too soon for Auston to be home yet and the only door in the kitchen that wasn’t the sliding glass ones leading to the back deck was the one that led to the basement. So there was only one other person it could be.

“Hey,” Matthew greeted as stepped into the living room. His hair was damp, indicating he showered recently and he too was dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. A common attire in the Matthews household. “Heard some commotion up here, just figured I’d come up and check to make sure everything’s ok.”

“Oh, shoot, I’m sorry if we were loud,” Carson said and sniffled, internally cursing herself for not realizing she started crying. But, she tried playing it off. “Auston just ran to the store to get something for me and, well, little miss over here woke up in the process.”

“Matty!” Mia greeted as excitedly as her tired little self could.

“Hi, Mia,” Matthew chuckled then stepped into the living room and in front of the couch so he could crouch down to pet Frank but also be at eye level with Mia. “Are you giving your mom a tough time about going back to sleep?”

“Nooooo,” Mia giggled. “Daddy home soon.”

“Ah, yes, everything is about Daddy,” Carson teased, making Matthew laugh as he glanced at her, his expression falling when he noticed she had tears in her eyes.

“Carson, are you alright?” He asked, concern written all over his features.

“I’m fine!” Carson assured and quickly wiped away the tears welled in her eyes before Mia noticed. Matthew picked up on what she was doing, trying to conceal her tears from Mia. So, he didn’t press it but he gave her a pointed look as he moved from his crouching position and onto the couch on the other side of Mia. “I promise. You don’t have to worry about me, but thank you for checking in.”

Carson gave him a genuine smile. Matthew was so sweet and considerate, she truly loved having him stay with them. She’d gotten to know him a lot better in Arizona during the summer as he trained with Auston. He was a great fit in their household and Mia adored him.

“Carson-.”

“It’s nothing bad, Matty. Just got a lot on my mind.”

“Auston would not be happy knowing you’re upset.”

“I know, and that’s why we don’t need to tell him,” Carson responded and looked at him with a wide-eyed expression, silently pleading that this stayed between them.

Matthew let out a breath of defeat, then nodded. He seemed like he was going to drop it but still wanted to say something. However, before he could, the garage door opening sounded and they both knew Auston was home.

“Daddy!” Mia said quietly, but excitedly. She didn’t move from her spot, though, because she knew she didn’t have to. Auston would come to her.

Even Frank knew what that noise meant and didn’t bark this time, instead, he got up and trotted out of the living room, assumedly headed down the hallway to the door that led to the garage. A moment later, that same door opened and closed.

“Oh, hi Frank,” Auston greeted quietly and Carson could picture him taking time to pet their Goldendoodle before coming further into the house. “What’re you doing down here, hmm? I thought you were upstairs with Mia. Let’s go find Carson.”

Carson smiled listening to him, then glanced down at Mia, who was still focused on her show.

“He’s gonna be in for a surprise when he sees you awake, little girl,” Carson whispered as she gently pushed Mia’s curls back away from her face, then leaned down to peck the top of her head.

She and Matthew then glanced at each other while they listened to Auston’s footsteps approach, then he soon appeared.

“Carse, I wasn’t sure which one to get so I got multiple,” Auston stated as he walked into the room holding three different pregnancy test boxes, but halted once he noticed it wasn’t just his wife in the living room anymore. Carson’s hands immediately covered her face in embarrassment at the boxes he was waving around. “Woah.”

“Hi, dada,” Mia greeted all smiley as she leaned forward so she could see him.

“Hi, baby girl. And what are you doing up?”

Mia just giggled in response while Carson peaked between her fingers to watch the scene unfold. Auston looked so puzzled at Mia being awake, then a flash of surprise when he saw it wasn’t just his girls and Matthew was there too.

“Clear Blue,” he mouthed, squinting at one of the boxes Auston held before his eyes widened in realization. “Oh, OH! Wait, are you two?”

Carson felt her face going so red, then groaned as she flopped back against the couch, earning a questioning glance from Mia.

“We don’t know,” Carson said eventually. “I, I think so, yeah. But we’re not sure. That’s why Auston ran to the store to get some tests, so we could know.”

“Yeah, surprise, I guess,” Auston spoke up then made a face that resembled the grimacing face emoji. Then his eyes fell on Mia again and he looked like he was pondering something. “Did I wake her up?”

“The garage,” Auston, Carson and Matthew said simultaneously as Auston put all the pieces together.

“Gawage,” Mia repeated as she leaned back against the couch again and let out another big yawn, still unbothered. Carson couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips as she looked down at Mia again, but soon her gaze was back on Auston.

“You got three different tests?”

“I got five different tests, actually,” he replied, putting the three boxes he held in one hand before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out two more. He then took off his jacket and hung it up before making his way around the couch and sitting next to Carson.“There were so many different brands and types. I kinda decided just to wing it and hope for the best.”

Carson’s heart swelled with so much love for the man sitting before her. She could feel her eyes beginning to water again, but she played it off as she let out a small laugh and shook her head.

“Thank you,” she told him softly as they made eye contact again. “I appreciate you going to get those for me.”

“Of course. Anything for you, bub. You know I don’t mind.”

Carson smiled again, but then her attention snapped back to Mia as she let out a groan then laid her head on the pillow next to her and snuggled Whaley closer to her. Carson and Auston then looked at each other and chuckled, they were thinking the same thing about their dramatic toddler.

“We need to get her back to sleep,” Carson stated and Auston nodded in agreement.

“For our sanity and hers, yes,” he replied, leaning over to tap Mia’s arm. “Mini, why don’t we go back upstairs to bed?”

“Bwuey, daddy,” Mia said as she shook her head and pointed to the TV. Her episode of Bluey was still on and she was determined to finish watching it. “Mommy cuddow?”

Carson and Auston glanced at each other again and considered their options regarding Mia being awake and Carson somehow sneaking away to drink some water and then take the pregnancy tests, despite Mia wanting her to lay down and cuddle with her.

“Maybe we should wait till morning, Aus,” Carson sighed and glanced down at the boxes. “I don’t think it’s the right time.”

Auston nodded in understanding and went to respond, but another voice spoke up before he could.

“Mia, can I watch Bluey with you?” Matthew asked as he scooted toward her.

Mia’s face lit up at the idea and she soon sat back up and moved the pillow away before patting the now-empty space so he’d sit there. “Yeah, Matty!”

Matthew smiled as he got situated in the spot next to her and Mia wasn’t long in leaning against him and letting out a sigh of contentment as she looked back at the TV. Matthew then looked at Carson and Auston and spoke up again.

“You two go do what you need to do, together. I’ll hang with Mia until you’re done, but take your time.” Then he lowered his voice into a whisper that only they would hear. “Maybe she’ll fall back asleep.”

Carson truly appreciated the offer, but she didn’t want Matthew to feel like he had to babysit. It wasn’t the first time he’d watched Mia for them since moving in. He hung out with Mia often if he didn’t have anything else going on and the two had a great relationship. He’d even talked to Carson and Auston about wanting to introduce his girlfriend to them but especially Mia when she came for a visit in the new year. But, still, Carson didn’t want him to feel like watching Mia was a trade-off for them letting him stay there or anything of the sort.

She was about to tell him he didn’t need to do that, but Auston squeezing her knee in reassurance prevented her from doing so.

“That’d be really helpful,” Auston stated, then stood up from the couch. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Matthew assured them with a smile.

Auston nodded in thanks then looked down at Carson and smirked. “Come on, you.”

Carson looked up at him and shook her head slightly before standing up as well. She didn’t say anything as she took two of the pregnancy tests from Auston’s right hand and placed her left hand there instead, squeezing his hand before looking back at Matthew.

“Thank you,” she said, then looked back at Auston with and a small smile. “Lead the way.”

No questions came from Mia as her parents made their way around the couch and out of the living room. With how she was fighting so hard to keep her eyes open, they didn’t expect her to put up much of a fuss about them leaving.

Before going upstairs, Carson and Auston stopped in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water for Carson to drink before she took the tests. Then they headed up to their master bedroom together.

They sat on the bed together, chatting about how their lives could change depending on what those tests said while Carson sipped her water. Despite still feeling anxious, talking it all through with Auston made Carson feel a lot better and she was able to fully admit how she was hoping for a positive result on the tests.

About twenty minutes after Carson finished her water, she was ready to head into the ensuite with the tests and see what they said.

“I’ll be right here,” Auston told Carson as he gently tipped her chin up to look at him before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on her lips. He knew she wanted her space as she took the tests.

“I’ll come get you once I’m done and we can look at them together,” Carson responded then pecked his lips again before standing up off the bed. She then took a deep breath, then headed into the ensuite and did what she needed to do.

About ten minutes later, Carson left the bathroom with her phone in hand and a timer set. She remained quiet as she entered the bedroom and crawled into the spot beside where Auston was leaning against the headboard on their bed. He didn’t say anything, just pulled Carson closer and let her cuddle into his side, knowing all that needed to be said would happen in the next few minutes or so. He watched as she kept tapping her phone screen to life, anxiously counting down the seconds to when the two of them could go see what each of the tests said.

Carson was content just laying there with the love of her life that after a few moments, she did stop constantly checking the timer on her phone and just enjoyed being with him. She wasn’t sure how much time passed and could feel herself dozing off with how comfortable she was, but then the alarm went off.

They both jumped slightly and Carson scrambled to cancel the alarm so the noise would subside, then took a deep breath and looked up at Auston.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Carson spoke quietly. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The two of them got off the bed and headed to the ensuite hand in hand.

Carson had left the door open so they could easily see the four tests she took sitting where she lined them up and upon seeing them again, she felt a familiar anxious knot form in her stomach. She saved the fifth one on purpose for if she needed further confirmation of whether she was indeed pregnant or not, and after one final glance at Auston, she stepped into the room first to see what each one said.

After glancing down at the first test, Carson’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. There was no plus or minus symbol, no message on the tiny screen indicating what she wanted to know so badly, no nothing. Without even thinking, she reached out and grabbed Auston’s hand, hoping for some reassurance because she could already feel her hope slipping away, but then he spoke up.

“Bub, look at the other three.”

So, she did, and sure enough, each one stated that yes, she was pregnant.

“Oh, my God,” Carson gasped as a sob involuntarily left her mouth. She immediately moved a hand up to cover her mouth and looked at Auston with watery eyes before he pulled her in for a tight hug. “We’re having another baby. I- oh, my God.”

Carson was full-on sobbing while Auston chuckled at her words before moving away so that he could put both hands gently on the sides of her neck and kiss her. He had happy tears in his eyes.

“Everything’s going to be ok,” he promised then placed his forehead against hers. “We’re going to be parents again, Carse.”

“I’ve never been a mom of two before,” Carson blubbered, then let Auston pull her into his embrace again.

“I know, bub,” Auston soothed while rubbing his hand up and down her back. “But, we’re going to figure it out. We always do.”

Carson couldn’t tell with how her face was buried against the fabric of the hoodie Auston wore, but he was smiling so damn wide. He was ecstatic and instinctively wanted to know more. How far along was she? When would the doctor predict her due date would be? And most importantly, was the baby healthy?

Auston had so many questions, but he was aware that it wasn’t the time to ask them. He knew this was going to be hers and his little secret for the time being. Although he was content with that, he was just so excited and couldn’t wait to see how the rest would all play out.

The two of them stood there for a moment, relishing in the news and not letting go of one another. Eventually, Carson moved away and Auston gently cupped her cheeks, looking at her with so much love and adoration before they both laughed at how emotional they were being.

“I love you, Auston Matthews,” Carson stated firmly, acting as if he’d ever forget.

“And I love you, Carson,” he replied. “I love that we can make it through anything in this life together.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t you dare say that.”

Carson didn’t argue, instead just wrapped her arms around Auston’s middle and crashed against his chest again. Auston started playing with her hair and the two stood there in silence for a few moments before they heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Mia,” they said in unison as they leaned away and looked at each other with wide eyes, suddenly remembering Matthew was watching her. The two of them moved away from the other and Auston followed Carson as she beelined out of the bathroom, through their bedroom and into the hallway before stopping.

At the other end of the hall, Matthew rounded the corner holding Whaley and a very asleep Mia in his arms. Frank was right there too.

“Oh, hey,” he greeted and came to a stop once he noticed Carson and Auston standing there. “She passed out about fifteen minutes ago so I figured I’d bring her up to bed. You two alright?”

Matthew wasn’t prying, just asking a genuine question to two people he cared for, which Carson and Auston knew. The two of them glanced at each other and then smiled when they realized they were thinking the same thing about sharing the news with him.

“Yeah, we’re alright,” Carson assured as she and Auston looked back at Matthew, then she took a breath. “But, there’s going to be a new addition to the house sometime between now and next season.”

“No way,” Matthew smiled widely. “That’s amazing. Congratulations, you two!”

“Thanks, man,” Auston said, smiling too as he walked towards Matthew and took Mia from his hold. “Here, I got her.”

Matthew gently passed Mia over, making sure she didn’t get woken up and smiled as she nuzzled closer to her dad even in her sleep. Then he glanced between Auston and Carson.

“Wait, I’m the only other person who knows, aren’t I?”

“You’re part of this household, so it seems fitting that you are,” Carson told him with a grin. “We’ll figure out how to tell our families and friends after I see my doctor and figure out all the details. Then we’ll go from there about everyone else knowing.”

She was referring to the media and fans as everyone else. Matthew knew that and respected the privacy they understandably would want during a time like this.

“Your secret is safe with me,” he promised.

“Hope you’re prepared for the absolute fit Mitch is going to have knowing that you knew before he did,” Auston said to Matthew, making all three adults laugh.

“I’ve been telling him being Carson’s twin has nothing on me being the one living in your guys’ basement!”

“Oh, I can imagine he takes that statement very personally,” Carson chuckled and shook her head. After a brief moment, Matthew spoke up again.

“Well, I’ll let you two enjoy the rest of your night together,” he said and handed Auston Whaley as well. “Congrats again. Tone, what time are we heading out for practice in the morning?”

“Probably around 10,” Auston told him.

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll have breakfast ready before you go,” Carson chimed in. “Let me know if there’s anything particular you’d like.”

“You know I’m not going to complain about any of the food you cook me, Carse,” Matthew told her. “It’s always so good.”

“Kiss ass,” Auston teased, earning a scowl from Matthew and an eye roll from Carson.

“Have a good night, Matty. Thanks again for watching Mia,” Carson said and Matthew assured them it was no problem before heading back downstairs.

“You go get ready for bed,” Auston spoke up again. “I’ll put Mia in her bed then I’ll be right there.”

“Ok, sounds like a plan.”

Auston then dipped out of sight and into Mia’s room and Carson was about to go back into their bedroom, but stopped herself when she remembered they’d left lights and the TV on downstairs.

She scurried past Mia’s room to the top of the stairs but didn’t have to go down them when she heard Matthew walking around the main level. She could tell that he was turning all the lights off before going back downstairs for the night and smiled at the thoughtful action.

Without having to go downstairs, Carson made her way back to the master bedroom. Once inside, she changed into a pair of silky pyjamas, then went into the ensuite to brush her teeth. She couldn’t help the tears that pricked her eyes or the smile on her lips as she glanced down at the positive pregnancy tests. Everything felt right in her world.

Auston entered the room just as she was finishing brushing her teeth and placed a kiss on the top of her head before he started doing the same. Carson squeezed Auston’s arm as they looked at each other in the mirror before going back into the bedroom and climbing into their bed to wait for him there.

Soon, Auston was getting into their bed as well and pulled Carson close. He held her, gently playing with her hair as they talked about the future and what this new addition to their family meant. Carson was eventually lulled to sleep by how relaxed Auston’s touches made her feel and Auston wasn’t long to do the same, welcoming a peaceful sleep as he anticipated everything that was to come.

#auston matthews imagines #auston matthews fanfiction #auston matthews imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl headcanon #nhl imagine #nhl writing

156 notes · View notes

trashmouth-richie · 6 months

Text

Series summary: Hawkins Annual Halloween Festival is in town, and this year you and your friends were lucky enough to work the event. But when some of your co-workers are missing, and a trail of blood leads to the woods behind the festival. Your friends work together to find out what’s going on. A killer is on the loose but who could it be? Or is it the town’s spooky secret of what really happened at Hawkins Lab?

ch 2: A SCREAM AND A SLICE

ch 3: THE ROCKSTAR AND THE RED LIGHTS

ch 4: FAMILY VALUES

series trigger warnings: blood, character death, murder, smut, p in v, drinking & smoking pot, themes of misuse of prescription pills, character killer, stranger things canon events, light mentions of domestic abuse, neglect, etc.

BUY TICKETS

PROMO FLYER

part 1 summary: a movie night with friends ends with a very scared Nancy and you and your best friend getting high in your room, when the lights flicker across town— you + Eddie brush it off as nothing— because Hawkins Indiana has always been a little strange.

FLICKER

The popcorn bowl in your lap is nearly empty, only brown kernels left to shift noisily as Eddie’s hand scrapes around the bowl in chase of one last piece of the buttery snack.

Your eyes are glued to the screen, breath hitched in your throat as you watch Michael Myers stalk down the street. Even though you’ve seen it a dozen times, it still gets to you. Something about the rubbery, expressionless mask he dons as he chases and slashes through people's skin just rubs you the wrong way.

“Ohhh fuck!” Eddie gleams, Michael’s knife cutting through Annie’s throat, “did ya see that?!”

“Trying not to,” Nancy muffles, her face buried into the broad shoulder of Steve, small hand clasped around her eyes, Steve’s arms pulling her closer into him.

Movie nights in the Wheeler basement were a typical Friday for your group of friends. Something that you weren’t sure would continue to happen after you, Eddie and Steve graduated this past May. Being waitlisted for your dream school put your endeavors on hold and neither one of them had any grand plans of leaving Hawkins, especially since Steve and Nancy had rekindled their on-again-off-again relationship.

Currently they were on again, and dipping into near pornography whenever they thought no one was watching or listening.

“I gotcha,” Steve purred into Nancy’s mouse brown hair, rubbing her back, “c’mon Munson, turn this shit off.”

“No!” You and Eddie both say at once.

He smirks at you. The same dimpled closed mouth grin he had given you since you were thirteen years old. He clears his throat, “It’s almost over anyway.”

Eddie’s love for movies and music came at a young age. Anything to keep his mind busy while his parent’s fought. Anything to keep the noise of the screen door slapping shut as his mom fled their trailer again, his dad hot on her heels and swinging a fist through the dark night trying to make contact. Anything to drown out the noise and squeal of her tires kicking up rocks and dead grass against the aluminum trailer as she sped away, this time for the last time— without him.

He was your friend before his mom had left and any of that had started, and he had spent more nights sleeping on your couch than he had his own bed. You were comfortable with Eddie in ways that girls shouldn’t be with their best friends who were boys. But you could care less. It was always, and forever would be, platonic between you and Eddie Munson.

Reaching over the laps of both Eddie and Steve, you tug Nancy’s shirt until she peeks over Steve’s collar. You mouth bathroom? And she nods, getting up and following you, trying not to trip over a very drunk Robin or passed out Johnathan.

The light in the bathroom does absolutely nothing for Nancy’s complexion, playing on the peaked look of her skin and illuminating dark circles under her eyes that you normally had not seen. She sits on the sink and holds her arms against her chest as you finish up, washing your hands next to her.

“How can you guys watch that stuff?” She half whispers and sniffs, rubbing a petite hand under her red nose.

Drying your hands, you shrug, hanging the towel back up on the hook, looking back at your reflection and fixing your smudged eyeliner, “it’s just a movie Nance,” you say to her through the mirror, “besides, the possibility of something like that happening in Hawkins, are pretty damn slim.”

She shakes her head of ill thoughts, “yeah, o-‘f course, I just,” a chill runs through her, tickling her spine and making her skin goosebump, “the thought of it is… scary.”

“I think that’s the whole point.”

Opening the door, Steve audibly gasps at the next jump scare, and Eddie claps along hooting and hollering as Michael’s next victim joins the dead.

“I hate Halloween,”she mutters to herself, hopping down from the sink following you out to your friends.

Nancy spent the remainder of the movie with a lamp on, reading over her English paper for Mrs. Click’s class that was due in a few weeks, huffing in disapproval at either the movie or her paper you weren’t sure.

Robin wedges her way onto the couch with the four of you, whisper yelling about how stupid the characters are and how none of it makes any sense.

“You’re ruining it Buckley, shh!” Eddie says, placing a ringed hand over her mouth. And you can’t help but laugh at them both.

Robin licked the flat of his palm, her signature move, and Eddie squealed in disgust, “fucks sake Robin.”

“Aww,” Robin says, squeezing his cheeks with her long chip painted fingers, “don’t be jealous Eddie-bear.. you probably won’t know this but that smell is puss— ow!”

Your elbow digs into her ribs, “shh!” you sneer,

The ending credits roll and Eddie’s on his feet, ejecting the tape and slotting it into the paper protector. “Who’s up for the second one?”

He groans when the entire room yells no. Pouting and shoving the tape into his backpack. “What about you Byers?” he asks, kicking Jonathan’s leg to bring him back to life.

“Huh?” he asks through a yawn, rubbing his shocking red eyes, “nah man I’m cool, need to get home, mom is working late and Will’s by himself.”

He tosses the pillow he was using into the arm chair and trudges up the steps, saying see ya laters and thanks as he leaves.

Eddie shoots you a wink and you stand reaching for the blankets you were cuddling with and fold them neatly onto the couch.

Robin stumbles up the stairs behind Jonathan, trying to score a ride so she doesn't have to walk the three blocks to her place completely drunk.

Steve pulls Nancy in his lap. She’s whispering to him with tears brimming her bright blue eyes, but you can’t hear what she’s saying.

“Yeah, c’mon” he whispers against her hairline, holding her up so they can both stand, “still have your toothbrush at mine… hey, we’re going to my place,” he announces to you and Eddie, just turn the lights off and we’ll see you tomorrow for opening day right?”

The Annual Hawkins Halloween Carnival was in town, and after two years of working the county fair in Roane County, you had all been asked to work at the carnival this fall.

The carnival schedule was the weekend before Halloween to the weekend of Halloween.

Seven days of thrills and chills. Pumpkin carving, face painting, a corn maze that seemed to go for miles, the best food in the Midwest, and finally the usual carnival rides with a sick twist of Halloween themed frights.

Orientation was last week Saturday and Sunday a grueling 7am-7pm both days. Mr. Creel went over expectations and rules for you as staff to follow.

It seemed easy enough. You and Eddie were put on rides just like you had been all summer. Nancy and Argyle were in charge of games, Tina and one of her cheerleader friends were doing the pumpkin carving.

Steve and Robin would be set up in a small booth sponsored by Scoops Ahoy from morning until 5 pm, later taking over on rides for Eddie while he and Corroded Coffin made their debut on stage at night.

Steve was still pissed that they were insistent on him wearing the blue sailor uniform, even though the mall burned down last July— they managed to have Mrs. Sinclair sew the outfit for him.

Jonathan would help Argyle and Nancy with the nickel and dime games, ones designed to have parents shell out pockets of change to have their kids possibly win a stuffed animal that wasn’t even worth an entire dollar.

Billy Hargrove— who you were certain fled town after the mall fire, was apparently still in Hawkins and now in charge of the haunted hay ride at night and the corn maze during the day.

Him and Eddie used to be close during his senior year, but it all fell apart and you weren’t really sure why. When you asked, Eddie would shrug it off, claiming he had changed after graduation, and that was that.

You were surprised that the staff was minimal even though the festival was bigger and had more events going on than the summer carnival did, but you didn’t want to jinx your chances of working for it next year. Rumor was, Creel paid double for the Halloween event, Eddie called it the chance of a lifetime, and you knew it’d be stupid to mess it up by asking questions.

“Thanks for letting me stay again,” Eddie mumbles after you toss him the sleeping bag from your closet, “didn’t know he’d be home tonight.”

After you had drove home from Nancy’s you had barely gotten into your room when your phone rang, it was Eddie and he was at the payphone outside of Benny’s.

It’s me, can I stay over?

you didn’t think twice, telling Eddie yes and hanging up the phone.

His dad had been released from county two weeks ago after Eddie finally scraped enough bail money together to get him out. He swore this was the last time he’d do it but you knew better than that.

Eddie was a lot of things but he wouldn’t let his dad rot in some cell. Even though he deserved every single second of being there.

Al Munson had been in and out of jail since you could remember, petty crimes this and grand theft auto that. He was hardly a stable male figure for Eddie.

But to the doe eyed boy with brown curly hair— Al hung the moon.

It nearly killed Wayne Munson to see Eddie stick up for his old man, but he still offered his home to Al whenever he came through town on his next stunt, bleeding Eddie’s pockets dry and taking every emotional spark left in him when he tore out of the driveway, just before the blue and red lights could follow.

“Don’t worry about it,” you shrug tossing him one of your pillows, “you know you’re more than welcome here, anytime.”

Even though your parents hated the idea, you moved into the old apartments across town the week after graduation. Full of naive wonder and wanting some privacy you worked all the hours you could between Meldvald’s and Bradley’s Big Buy, earning just enough to have a couple hundred dollars left to go into savings after rent.

The faucets leaked, the paint was chipping and probably poisonous, the front door didn’t even lock properly, but you could care less: it was freedom.

Eddie grabs the hem of his shirt and drags it over his head, revealing his tattooed chest and silver bar nipples, wincing when his shirt grazes the new piercing. His curls tickling his shoulders.

“I know,” he grunts, unclasping his belt and chain from his jeans, tossing them to the floor beside his makeshift bed, “I just worry one day you’ll get sick of pitying the Munson charity case all the time.”

He scoffs when you throw a pillow at him, “what I’m serious!”

“Knock it off, Bam Bam, you’re my best friend, I’m never getting sick of you.”

“oh Christ, listen—” he began, shaking his head in disgust and holding up a ringed hand to stop you, “this game only goes one way, babe, and that’s me calling you the same name I have since we were six.”

You roll your eyes, a sudden heat to your cheeks that lately was becoming more and more prevalent each time Eddie used your nickname or an endearing name someone would use for a girlfriend.

But that was just how Eddie was, he even called Ms. O’Donnell “honey” once to ace a test but all he got was a big fat ‘F’ and a week’s worth of detentions.

Eddie reaches into his pocket for the plastic film, “besides, you only keep me around because you can smoke for free,” he says, presenting the pre-rolled joints and his trusty zippo.

“Ooh, and he brings gifts? you shouldn’t have,” you mock in a terrible accent, fanning yourself with your hand as if you were a true southern bell, “it's not even my birthday, mister.”

Eddie gets into the bit, sitting cross legged on your bed and dumping the contents of the bag onto your comforter, the skin of your knees touching, “well it’s not every day a lonely feller like me comes across a lady lookin’ as fine as you.”

Giggling he licks the end of the paper to seal it tight and you lick your own lips in greedy anticipation. You loved movie nights with all your friends, but there was always something special about being alone with Eddie.

It was calming, but maybe it was just having him around that made the stress of bills and everything else just fade away. He had that special way about him.

Holding the joint and lighter up for you his eyes locked with yours, and you swore his cheeks went pink, “ladies first, princess.”

—-

Across town, Steve was spending the evening with his lips on Nancy’s neck, huffing when she gasps when the bed creaks from his movement.

“Sorry— I’m still a little freaked out.”

Steve brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, “there’s nothing to worry about honey— I promise, I’ll keep you safe. You know that right?”

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. “I-I know that, I’m— it’s just this time of year that always gives me the creeps.”

Nancy Wheeler had gained minor popularity when she struck the fancy of the king of Hawkins High. She wasn’t used to it, finding the glory of being Steve’s girlfriend suffocating.

“Well I’ve got somethin that isn’t creepy,” he coos into the shell of her ear, “in fact, you always seem to like it.”

“Steve..”

He shushes her with his lips, and like she always did, Nancy found herself giving in to him.

—

Fingers twirled between the bouncy rings of a telephone cord, Robin waited patiently— well as patiently as she could— for Vickie to pick up.

Their relationship was secretive, only her closest friends knew of Vickie and Vickie didn’t tell a single soul about the nights spent tangled in the corn powder blue sheets with the pretty freckled faced clarinet player.

They had a system. Vickie dealt the cards and made the rules, while Robin had a hand of jokers and mismatched suits, only she didn’t—couldn’t— see it for what it was.

The phone rang and rang, and would continue to ring. Hard to answer the phone when you’re too busy being pressed into the mattress with your feet on your boyfriend's shoulders.

—

“Yeah mom, I’m home now.” Jonathan answered annoyingly into the phone, “… W—No he’s asleep.. I’m sure he did… yeah, fine..I’ll go check.”

The phone would have stretched easily into the small bathroom down the hallway of the Byers’ home so he could check that Will had taken his nightly medication, but instead he let the phone slap against the floor in a clankety thud.

Jonathan Byers had been the man of the house since his dad left in seventh grade. He cooked, he did the laundry, and worked part time wherever he could. His mom was barely able to keep it together since Lonnie had left. And most days, she couldn’t. Somehow the last year she had gotten worse.

She was rail thin, and never ate a thing. Absent minded. Constantly writing things out and scribbling nonsense onto scraps of paper. Strewn across the living room, the kitchen, any surface available.

She was always worrying if Will would be okay, but never reciprocating that same kind of love and care to Jonathan.

Joyce Byers loved her boys equally, but the youngest was given more attention, maybe it was because he was her last baby, or possibly because his father had rarely ever acknowledged his existence. Still, the relationship between mother and son was broken off, string rolling in on itself when it came to Jonathan.

The pills in the slot marked ‘friday’ were gone, just like Jonathan knew they would be. His brother took his medications religiously, never ever skippinga day, he had it clocked down to the hour, minute, and second— the same time every single day.

A routine he had since last year.

Jonathan looks back at his gaunt expression when he shuts the medicine cabinet, smiling fake and toothy, taking the usual freebie from the hoard of pills his mother was prescribed but never took.

His lips under the faucet he swallows the white oval pill down.

Will wasn’t the only one with his own pill routine.

—

“Eddie, turn the lights off already it’s fuckin 2 am,”

Without fully waking you throw a pillow down to where he was laying, it wasn’t unusual for him to get high and pass out with the lights still on, but it was annoying beyond belief.

A muffled groan is heard from beneath the tossed pillow before Eddie wrestled it from his face, “the fuck are you throwing shit at me for?”

“you left the lights on again.”

Head on a swivel Eddie looks from you, to the ceiling to the switch, “open your eyes Helen Keller, they’re not on.”

the sting of light is still shining bright in your face and when you peel your eyes open you see that he wasn’t lying. Your room was dark, but the street lamp was glowing brighter than usual.

Your toes curl around the plush fibers of your rug and you pull the cord to open the blinds. Eddie’s weight shifts onto your mattress as a loud yawn escapes his lips, followed by a scratching noise that you’re hoping is his nails against his skull instead of his balls.

“what the fuck?”

The street lamps up and down your street were buzzing and glowing in an emberred haze. The glow of yellow was straining brighter than could be deemed possible and it was pulsing with an ominous flicker.

You were tantalized by it’s beauty, like a moth to a flame hypnotized by the menacing doom— you couldn’t look away, and for a split second the welcoming sunshine of the lamp turned blood red, a warning of terror before being blown to bits and shattering to the ground below.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie jumps behind your shoulder, “what the hell was that, you saw it right?”

You definitely had, it’s illuminating shadow still glowed bright when you blinked your eyes. You have heard of electric surges, currants going hot when wires were overloaded. But flickering like that then burning red before burning out? It was almost like a fallacy, something Eddie probably would have made up for Hellfire, it simply couldn’t have been true.

You rubbed at your eyes like a tired child, “told you that second joint smelled funny,” you said sitting on your knees facing him and shoving his shoulder, a look of shock on his face.

He scoffs and shoves your shoulder back, rolling his eyes playfully, “it’s a new strain Rick concocted himself, red…red somethin’…” he lays partly on the bed and stretches his body to the floor fumbling into his jeans pocket in search of the cellophane plastic of the baggy.

“Ah, here,” he says, shoving the bag into your hand, your thumb rubs over the black sharpie written in boy chicken scratch hand writing.

You read it the same time Eddie says it.

“Redrum.”

♡ hope you enjoyed, comment what you think will happen next; reblogs are appreciated

♡ part 2: A SLICE & A SCREAM ♡

♡tag list: @dashingdeb16 @emxxblog @mopeymopeymouse @pretendthisnameisclever @mommybaby-witch @eddies-acousticguitar @tlclick73 @figmentofquinn @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @whenshelanded @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord * @leelei1980 @mopeymopeymouse @browneyes8288 @emilyslutface @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiesxangel @elegantkoalapaper * @str4ngergirlw0rld * @corrodedcoffincumslut @nailbatanddungeon

if you want to be added to the all time taglist for new/upcoming fics comment on this post 🖤

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie fan fiction #stranger things #stranger things au #hide + scream series

304 notes · View notes

rzyraffek · 1 year

Text

Bruh I got this idea in my head that y/n is getting bullied/scared by some asshole and due to being spooked she hides behind slasher. Slasher is probably confused af. Request open

Yeah anyways how slashers would react:

Tw: y/n isnt very smart, begging(not tw, more just cringe warning), death(not y/n, only bully)

Collector:

Head tilt, kinda confused, He probably was watching this whole argument (somone yelling at y/n) from shadows few minutes already, untill he decided to go in and end this little stupid game of theirs.

When he went in to the room y/n was in, the last thing he expected was her running to hide behind him, being visibly more scared of some normal looking person than some scary guy in mask.

Well thats cute, little butterfly like you, hugging his back, begging to be protected? So cute. Well he wont keep the lady waiting, pests like this bully of yours dont deserve to be in his collection anyways, so why live?

Quick stabs in stomach and neck will do the thing. Now what to do with y/n, well she is terryfied but its difficult to say if shes scared because of Asa deadly activities or the person that was just killed

If y/n decides to thank him for saving, he will probably🤨🤨🤨 kinda confused, like gurl you realise that you are prolly next? Tbh this gratitude probably saved her, because he is now very intresed in her, and will gladly 'invite' her to his nasty as lookin hotel place hideout

Billy Lenz:

He probably already knew shes bullied by her roomate, he is known to stalk people

He does not like the attitude they give her, not at all, of course He is a bab person and serial killer ect, but he is horny aswell and He has crush on any breathing women in 100meter radius, so obviously idea of his little crush being bullied makes him angry

He probably come out from attic just to steal some food and the cat(billy cat person) when he heard shouting, he recognise voice, its that bitch that is being mean to y/n. Billy being Billy tried to sneak and watch yall argue

Y/n probably sees him in corner of room and thought that its one of girls she lives with(Fic takes place in the same place as movie) so she went to him grabbed him and went"🥺shes mean to me again😭"

He will be flabagastered, a f e m a l e just touch him??? Consensually?? And asked for help?? Well now He doesnt crush you anymore, he loves you now. Will stab the bully for you honey. How could they treat you like that?

Will hug you and say some billy-level unholy stuff

Micheal Myers:

He is probably more confused than y/n and her bully together. Ayo human touch? Ayo some girl begging him? To kill somone??? Oh boy thats a lot to take in🤯

I mean win win, he gets kill, she gets rid of bully.

If y/n decides to thank him he will have error, noone really did it before? I mean it doesnt change anything but its still kinda noice? He wont kill her, but will stalk her atferwards, and maybe kidnap yoink her.

Thomas Hewitt:

Well guess who is the dinner today!

Y/n was probably on trip with her 'friends' and one of them acted rather dry and mean >:(

Thomas would probably notice fast, they didnt try to help her, and even said something along the lines "take her not me you monster!" Overall not slay person

He will feel bad but not to point to spare her 🙄 but when she litteraly hide behind him? Da killer? She more scared of her friends than guy who wants to eat her?? Well damn kinda felt bad for her

He would let y/n leave hause, but because he doenst want her to call police, he'll probably just yeet her in basement untill he figures out what to do with her (dont worry shes not next dinner, he will try to convince Luda to keep you. 🥺I got this cute little fella in my basement can I keep her🥺)

#slasher headcanons #slasher x reader #micheal myers #micheal myers x reader #the collector x reader #the collector #asa emory x reader #asa emory #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #billy lenz x you #billy lenz x y/n #billy lenz x reader #billy lenz

2K notes · View notes

thebeast-dennis-etcetera · 1 month

Note

Imagine doing your nails while Gibbs is down with his boat and he comes up earlier and expected and is surprised to see you awake

“Why are you still awake?”

And him ending up staying until you’re done

Little Things

“I’ll be up soon.”

Your boyfriend’s famous words to you at least 3 times a week. You never understood why he said it as if he didn’t always end up coming to bed till many hours later, usually when you were already asleep.

You knew there were many reasons he stayed down there in the musky basement, tinkering away with his beloved DIY projects, decompression being one of them. Whether it was a stressful day at work, a particularly disturbing case he was assigned to, or just really dedicated to building various pieces of woodwork, he spent at least a quarter of his life down there.

It didn’t bother you for the most part, it was his biggest way of coping and you weren’t going to ruin that for him just so you could get a few extra hours of cuddles in with him.

But tonight was different, only because you were far from tired and decided that you’d use the time to do your nails.

Once you brought all of your supplies down into the living room, you turned the tv on low, mainly for white noise and got to work prepping your toes first. Your choice of color this week was going to be a taupe-like shade. Perfect color for the fall season and it would match with just about anything you wore. Had you been skilled enough, you would’ve added acrylics but decided to leave that to the professionals and just stick with the base and top coat.

After painting and cleaning up the edges on your toes, you got to work on the rest of your nails, struggling once it came to your non dominant hand. You were concentrating so hard on not painting outside the lines, you didn’t even notice your boyfriend come up.

“Why are you still awake?” he asked in curiosity, walking over to observe your makeshift nail salon. There were files, cue tips and cotton balls strewn across the dining room table and a half empty bag of kettle chips you had been intermittently snacking on.

“Why are you still awake?” you countered with playful sass.

He put up his hands in mock surrender and walked over to the kitchen to grab a beer before coming back over and taking a seat next to you. The silence was comfortable as he grabbed the remote and changed the channel, offering you a sip of his beer. You accepted, giving it back to him and grabbed the bag of chips, holding it out as an offer. He grabbed a handful and set it back on the table as you continued your painting, occasionally asking him to hand you the acetone soaked cotton ball.

Once you had gotten done applying the final top coat, your back was killing you and you were getting light headed from all the air blowing you did to speed up the drying process. Jethro was still relaxed into the couch beside you, hand caressing little patterns on your back, content as he went back and forth from watching his movie to watching you.

“How do you like the color? I think it’s very chic in my opinion,” you spoke, smiling as he nodded in agreement.

“Looks good,” was all he said. He could care less what color you painted your nails and only gave you an answer to make you happy but that’s one of the reasons why you loved him. All he ever wanted to do was make you feel beautiful and heard. Even when it came to minuscule things such as a nail polish color. You didn’t need him to give you long articulated compliments, you had figured out his shorthand a long time ago.

He made you stay on the couch as he cleaned everything up and turned everything off.

“You can grab your supplies in the morning,” he said before picking you up bridal style, making you laugh and hold onto his neck.

“Jethro, the polish is dry, I can walk.”

“I know.”

You reveled in how easily he carried you upstairs and into your bedroom, only setting you down so the both of you could brush your teeth and get undressed for bed.

The two of you faced each other in bed, you running your fingers through his hair as he hummed in appreciation with his eyes closed. Placing a kiss on his nose, you whispered.

“Goodnight Jethro.”

“Mnight,” he mumbled already half a sleep from your brushing fingers ministrations but pulled you in for a proper kiss afterwards, leaving you with a smile.

#gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #ncis #ncis fanfiction #agent gibbs #mark harmon #ncis request #jethro gibbs x reader #ncis imagine #jethro gibbs fanfiction

141 notes · View notes

marble-anime · 1 year

Text

Toxic Fan Culture

Pairing: Isaac Foster x Reader

Summary: The infamous serial killer, Isaac Foster, meets someone akin to a fan that would love nothing more than to please their idol.

Disclaimer: Minors DNI

Warnings: mentions of violence, cursing, blowjob, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie

Word Count: 2.4k

You’ve been down here for days. Weeks? Maybe even months. You weren’t sure. Not getting a beam of sunlight or a breath of fresh air made the days blur together. You didn’t mind though. As long as you were with him it didn’t bother you. You’d heard of him before, everyone had. The rumors of the laughing reaper spread like wildfire. The infamous Isaac Foster. It came as a shock to everyone when the killings ceased, it seemed like he had just up and vanished. Who would’ve thought that all this time he was hiding in the basement of a chapel?

You always wondered what happened to him. You’d walk down dark sketchy alleyways just to see if he’d pop out and grab you. Ever since you were a child you knew to keep your morbid fascinations to yourself. Having been on the receiving end of many distasteful stares as you shared your analyses about different serial killers and what went on in their minds. That paired with your constant, abnormal, state of arousal branded you as a ‘freak’.

Personally, you thought you were completely normal. After all, you’d been this way for as long as you could remember. What else were you supposed to think? Perhaps you watched one too many horror movies as a kid. Or maybe you were just born with a few screws loose. The only downside was that he found you as off-putting and disturbing as everyone else did.

Zack thought you were insane. Normally the sacrifices were terrified from the moment they stepped a foot onto his floor. And rightfully so, being abducted and waking up in an elevator lowering down to a basement that looked like an escape room brought to life.

You were the one exception. Either you were good at hiding your terror or you truly weren’t afraid in the slightest, waltzing out of the elevator as calm and collected as you could be. But that was about to change.

Unbeknownst to you he’d been stalking you as you made your way through his killing grounds, waiting for the right moment to reveal himself. He quickly grew bored of your blank face and hid inside a boarded-up alleyway, listening to the sound of your footsteps getting louder the closer you got. When he heard you on the other side he swung his scythe. Cutting through the boards and almost killing you right then and there.

Your eyes were wide, mouth agape, as you watched the bandaged monster step out of the alley, wooden shards crunching beneath his boots. It was the way he psychotically laughed at your shocked expression that tipped you off.

In your starstruck daze, you reached out to touch him, asking, “You’re Isaac Foster right?”

He pushed you away, suddenly being reminded of an encounter he had similar to this one. A woman reaching out a shaky hand, trying to seduce him into letting her go. Her facade crumbled to dust immediately when he rejected her advances. Although being lied to left a sour taste in his mouth, he couldn’t deny how gratifying it was to cut her up into pieces. And soon your body would be sliced open as you cry and scream for him to stop just like she did.

“I’ll give you till the count of three to run,” he started his usual spiel, holding up three fingers for emphasis. “One.” You just stared at him. Poor thing, he thought sadistically, you must be frozen in fear. “Two.” He raised his scythe. “Three.” You were hit by a gust of wind as the blade cut through the air, stopping only millimeters away from your neck.

“Huh?” His excitement vanished, replaced by confusion. “Why the hell aren’t you runnin’?”

“Hey.” Your fingers grazed the blade, lowering it from your neck as you stared at the man in front of you in awe, “How long have you been hiding down here? And what exactly is this place? Are there more serial killers in this building or just you?”

Frustrated by your curiosity, he threatened to hurt you. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t deter you from asking him anything and everything you could think of. His first instinct was to kill you, especially with that giddy look on your face, but the way you looked at him gave him the creeps.

So he ended up letting you live. It was the same old song and dance every day since then. He would distance himself from you while you constantly pursued him, sometimes even romantically. God, the thought made him want to vomit. How sick in the head were you to want to have a fling with a literal serial killer? Regardless, he had to get rid of you soon or he was gonna lose his mind even more than he already had.

He was lounging on the couch in his room, trying to get some rest when he heard the door open. He groaned, “What now?”

When you didn’t answer he turned his head to look at you. His body went stiff at the sight of you. You hid behind the doorway as you peeked inside the room. Your body was trembling, short breaths escaping your parted lips. You looked terrified. You gasped as your eyes met his and you took off. Almost as if he was possessed, he quickly grabbed his scythe and ran after you.

Adrenaline pumping through his veins, his laugh bouncing off the walls, as he chased you through his floor. You disappeared into the room at the end of the hall and closed the door behind you. Zack slammed his shoulder into the door, nearly knocking it off the hinges. He paused as he entered the room. You didn’t try to run or hide. You just stood there with that fearful expression, batting your eyelashes as you spoke, “Please don’t kill me, sir. I’ll do anything.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” As his head cleared, he realized what you were doing. He gripped the handle of his scythe in anger. “You were faking it?”

“It was the only way to get you to pay attention to me,” you said.

He was seething as you approached him. You shoved him, catching him off guard as his back hit the wall. “Hey!”

“You have a scythe,” you pointed out, pressing your body up against his. “You can stop me if you really want to.”

Zack’s eyes never left you as you leaned in to kiss his lips. He watched you for a moment, not moving a muscle. He didn’t know why he was letting this happen, anyone else would be a red splatter on the pavement. If it weren’t for his pride he might’ve been able to entertain the idea that maybe he enjoyed the way you looked at him. Your eyes filled with adoration like he was your idol, desperate for his attention. Even now, when you touched him you were as gentle as could be, not wanting to hurt him.

Lids fluttering shut, he began to move his lips against yours. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he kissed back. You hummed in contentment and stood on your toes. The kiss heated up quickly with both of you releasing your pent-up tension. He craned his neck, trying to keep up with you. His hood fell to his shoulders as you ran your hands through his hair. You gasped into each other's mouths for oxygen. He flinched away when he felt your tongue graze his lips.

Looking up at him, you could see the hint of arousal in his heterochromia eyes. Being desired by him made you feel like you were on top of the world. You dropped to your knees and began undoing his pants.

“What are you doing?” he asked, not bothering to stop you.

“Sucking your dick.” You pulled his pants down just enough for his hard cock to spring out. You teased, “Are you always hard when you kill or is this just for me?”

“Shut up,” he spat through gritted teeth as he anxiously awaited your next move.

You kissed from the base of his cock to the tip before taking it into your mouth. “Shit!” The loud clang of the scythe hitting the ground echoed through the room. He fought off a moan, your mouth felt so good. Hollowing your cheeks, you bobbed your head, stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth with your hand.

You felt him brush his fingers against your shoulder, not sure where to put his hands. You halted your movements and swirled your tongue around the tip as you grabbed his wrist. You placed his hand on the back of your head, helping him nudge you forward. He quickly picked up on what you were trying to tell him and pushed your head down his cock. He tried to get your lips all the way down to the base, relishing in the sound of you gagging on his dick.

“Fuck.” The tears pooling in your eyes as he violated your throat was doing more for him than it should have. You held eye contact with him as tears ran down your cheeks. You reached a hand up to grab his hip, trying to pull him towards you. He thrusted into your mouth, tangling his bandaged fingers in your hair to get better control of your head. You allowed him to go as fast as he wanted, taking all he had to give. Of course, with Zack being Zack, he set a brutal pace.

Saliva ran down your chin as he violently fucked your face, aggressive grunts and groans leaving his mouth. You gripped his thigh when he shoved his entire cock down your throat, breathing through your nose so you didn’t suffocate. You went to touch his balls but it wasn’t needed, the vibrations from you choking on his cock was enough. Both of his hands held you in place as his salty cum flooded your mouth.

You slurped it down and pulled off his cock, noticing that it was still hard. When you got back on your feet he beat you to the punch. With his hand cradling your face, he pulled you into a deep kiss that had your knees going weak. He lifted you by your thighs and you wrapped your legs around his waist. Without breaking the kiss he walked back to his room and threw you down on the couch.

As you both quickly undressed he warned, “I’ve never really…”

“It’s fine.” You threw your clothes on the ground and stood up. “Just lay down and I’ll guide you through it.”

Zack laid on the couch, completely bare except for the bandages wrapped around his body, and you climbed on top of him. You grabbed his cock, rubbing the tip against your slick pussy. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

You slowly sunk down on his cock until every inch of his was inside you. The air left Zack’s lungs, his jaw dropping at the sensation of your pussy sucking him in. A stunned expression adorning his face, you asked, “You okay?”

He squirmed beneath you, adjusting to the new feeling. “It’s so warm.”

You smiled, placing your hands on his chest and rolling your hips. Zack tried to hold back from cumming right then. In an attempt to distract himself from your velvety walls massaging him, he teased you just as you had done to him, “Do you fuck all serial killers you come across or is it just me?”

Knowing what he was doing, you answered, “Just you,” and began to bounce on his cock. “Damn it.” He knew he wasn't going to last long. Throwing his head back, he tried not to watch your boobs bounce as you fucked yourself on his cock. But you weren’t gonna make it easy for him. “You wanna feel ‘em?” You placed his hand on your breast and, unable to resist, he groped and kneaded your boob. His other hand traced up your voluptuous curves, taking note of how soft your skin was compared to his burned flesh.

“Ah, Zack!” you moaned, reaching down to rub your clit. Your walls clenched around him as his hips bucked into you, hitting your sweet spot. “Keep doing that.”

His hands found their way to your waist, helping you rock back and form as he thrusted up into your warm, wet, cunt. “Just like that.” Feeling his cock twitch inside you and the growls that left his throat, you knew he was close. So you raced to get yourself to the edge before he reached it himself. But honestly, it wasn’t all that hard. As inexperienced as he was, he was still so fucking sexy. And the way he manhandled you earlier left your skin burning with desire.

“Harder.” His nails dug into your flesh, bracing you for what was to come. He pounded his cock into you, leaving you breathless as he used you for his own pleasure. Your moans became irregular and choked up at the feel of his erratic thrust hitting deep inside you. You gasped, body convulsing as your orgasm rippled through you. He gave you one last powerful thrust before emptying his balls deep inside you.

As he lowered his hips, you kept yourself steady by leaning your hands on his torso. “That was amazing.” Zack hummed in response, trying to catch his breath. He was shocked by your next words, “You wanna go another round?”

“You can’t wait five minutes before your tryin’ to bang me again?!” he asked, his cock was still sensitive from your previous activities.

“I just love sex,” you shrugged. “If you could kill people all day then wouldn’t you?”

“Duh,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well that's what it's like with me,” you explained, “just with sex instead of murder.”

He frowned at your flushed face as he contemplated it in his head. Damn you, he thought, you were still looking at him with that loving expression. Sighing, he said, “Give me ten minutes and we can go again.”

“Yay!” you cheered.

You grabbed a blanket that was hanging off of the armrest and used it to cover you both. Zack grimaced when you placed sweet kisses on his chest. “The hell are you doing that for?”

“I’m giving you affection.” You cuddled into him, looking up at him with big doe eyes.

“Gross.” He closed his eyes, letting you hold him close as you both rested. Maybe keeping you around for a while wouldn’t be such a bad idea. “Do it again.”

#isaac foster x reader #isaac foster smut #angels of death x reader #angels of death smut #zack foster x reader #zack foster smut

490 notes · View notes