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frickatives · 9 months

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[teaser] against better judgement [f!reader bounty hunter x mando]

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[a/n] HI HELLO I've had this enemies-to-lovers fic idea rattling around in my brain for a year or so, and I decided I'm going to put it out into the world! I've had so much fun reading everyone's Mando fics over the years, and I'd love to be more active in the community. Setting is post-season-2, and will deviate wildly from canon from there. I'm planning to have the first chapter ready to go (hopefully) next Monday (8/14), but until then I wanted to get the first snippet out into the world to get more comfortable sharing my writing after not doing so for... at least a decade, whoops. I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I HOPE YOUR WEEK IS FULL OF DELIGHT ❤️❤️❤️

[warnings/tags] canon typical violence, gore (? light body horror??), mentions of death and injury, thirst for sweet vengeance, fem!reader, no use of y/n, the slowest burn, enemies to lovers, bounty hunter reader, comically hostile workplace

[wc] ~700, just a lil' preview/intro

You crouch down behind the rock, not believing your eyes.

They have to be wrong. Misinformed. You must be imagining things, because you think you're seeing an all-too-familiar quicksilver jackass creeping up on your bounty, and that simply isn't possible.

You look again. Quadruple checking.

Sure enough, it's him. He's kneeling by the entrance to the bunker, tracking fob in hand. You'd know that ridiculous helmet anywhere.

Rage boils over in your gut, so fast that it physically cramps something. You knew that the kriffing Guild– that kriffing Karga offered to keep the sentient trash chute on as a hunter, even after what he did to them – to you – on Nevarro, but being confronted by it makes you break into a cold sweat. You'd heard he'd turned the Guild down, but the very real hunter taking a few paces away from the bunker's hatch says otherwise.

The scar that bisects your chest and abdomen aches and tightens. Your hand settles over it, out of habit.

He blows the bunker door open with a charge.

The sound echoes, ricocheting across the barren, rocky surface of the valley, bouncing up the stony hillsides around you. You flinch. You've been on edge this whole damn time, even before that bastard showed up – you don't like being forced to take the low ground. It feels too much like begging to get shot.

Your armor scrapes against stone, and you duck down as quickly as you can in case he's heard – it's unlikely, over the sound of the blast, but you remember what it was like to be hunted down by those Mandalorians on Nevarro.

Their reflexes were preternatural.

You remember waking to the sound of a gunfight outside, and rushing out of the hostel with your sidearm in-hand, and stepping into a street overflowing with chaos and screaming. You didn't know what was happening. It seemed like nobody did.

You saw Guild hunters, a few you recognized from Karga's place, taking aim at the sky.

You remember looking up, too, and then fighting for your life against a small army of Mandalorians. You had no idea where they'd come from, why they were attacking the city, but you knew the men from the Guild and you didn't want to see them killed.

You fought for what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes, until you were cornered in an alley by a big brute with a wicked curved blade of mirror-polished beskar.

You remember being cut open. Filleted. One powerful swipe of that blade, one bad misstep of your own treacherous feet. You remember the feeling of parts of you shifting – slipping around inside, spilling out, moving to places they didn't belong. That sensation haunts you, yanks you out of sleep by your throat some nights, even now, even months and months later.

You remember the indignation. The wrath. How dare they do this to you? How dare they kill you here, like this?

But they hadn't. You'd woken up a few days later in a half-rate bacta tank, and you'd heard the story of the siege on Nevarro.

Heard that it was his fault. That loner Mandalorian, freshly kitted out in head-to-toe beskar, who never so much as had a conversation with any of you before he decided to sic his underground militia on you all.

You ought to be afraid, you think. This ought to be grounds for scrapping this whole job. Any reasonable person would turn tail, run back to the shuttle depot, and catch the fastest ride off this rock, rather than risk a repeat-filleting.

You've never been a reasonable person.

You're too focused on the astronomical odds of the situation: him, here, unaware of your presence; you, alive, armed, angry, and poised to do something about it, after all this time. The opportunity for vengeance is too sweet, too ripe. It's like the universe is placing it in your palm, wrapping your fingers around it with her gentle, generous hands. Whispering for you to just take it.

Tucked into your hiding spot behind the rock, millions of clicks from Nevarro, resolve settles like a brick in your stomach.

You're going to kill the Mandalorian.

[continue to chapter 1]

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #mando x reader #mando x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #pedro pascal #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fic #mando fic #enemies to lovers

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deanmonlover · 1 year

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Anywhere is better with you

The second part to my fic series is finally here! I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did writing it, the corey brain rot is real. I have so many ideas for this boy it is unreal 😅

A few weeks later, the rattling of your car was getting worse by the day. You were almost sure of it that any day now you would break down on the side of the road with a few dollars to spare. Taking as many shifts at work was your plan to take care of the problem as soon as possible but you kept putting it off like the professional procrastinator that you were.

"It sounds like your transmission is about to go out." Corey furrowed his eye brows, leaning up from the bottom of your car before brushing his hands together to shake off the dirt.

"My what now? Please don't tell me that's hard to fix. If you know a mechanic I could take it to–"

A boyish grin plays on the corner of Corey's lips as he pulled a crumpled business card out of his leather jacket and handed it over to you. "Funny you say that, I could fix it if you bring it to the shop later. I don't uh, I don't have my tools with me right now but I would be more than glad to fix it for you, y/n." He offered, hoping you would say yes it was the least he could do for you fixing up his hand the other day.

"Okay, deal. But I also have something else that I want from you." A mischievous glint shown in your eyes as you leaned toward him causing him to fumble slightly in his steps, tripping backwards into the trashcan behind him. His eyes widened in question, eager to know what it was that you could ever want from him. No one ever wanted anything from him unless it was to torment or torture him verbally or mentally.

"A date. That date you promised me weeks ago, I want that too as part of my payment for fixing you up." You were going to get that date no matter what it took. Of course you both had spent time at your house just hanging out together but you truly wanted to go somewhere fun with him. His soft brown eyes were enough to make you melt everytime they looked into yours. This boy had no clue literally what he was capable of.

Corey felt like had won the lottery, either that or some was playing the longest cruel joke on him ever. The most gorgeous human being was standing here right in front of him asking for him to be seen in public with you. That was social suicide, he couldn't do that to you. The whole town would be after your name too.

"A-Are you sure? I'm sure you have better things to do than go on a date with me. Really I-" You held your hand up and gently placed it on the side of his face, pushing a stray curl out of his eyes. "Yes, I'm positive I'd love to go somewhere with you. Anywhere you name it. I don't care who or what sees us, I meant it." You reassured him, rubbing the side of his temple.

Your co-worker Miranda came out of the store and motioned you back in. "Stock just came I need your help, y/n". "Okay be there in a minute!" You waved her back in, turning back to Corey who had turned about three shades of red, his hand coming up to place it on yours not able to comprehend that how you were able to make him feel like his heart was going to pound right out of his chest.

"I'll see you later, right?" You questioned, looking over your shoulder at the smitten boy.

"Don't worry I'll be there, pinky promise." He reached out with the pinky he wore a ring on and locked fingers with yours sealing your promise before reluctantly waving you back to work wondering if he were still dreaming.

————————————————————————

It was closing around five o'clock when your phone lights up with a text

See you soon at the shop, I've got a surprise for you

You shook your head with a warm feeling inside your chest growing with every minute of the car ride over to the very address on that piece of paper Corey had given you. Once you had arrived you could hear the distant sounds of large machinery and tools hard at work. Your eyes scanned the junkyard eagerly for any sight of the curly haired male until you bumped into a larger man with a mustache. "What can I help you with little miss?"

"I-I uh, I was looking for Corey-" You stopped mid sentence whilst scanning around still until your eyes fell on the backside of the very one you were looking for. "Corey!"

He can’t hold back his excitement whenever he spots you walking towards him. Damn, it had been so long since he had been this happy.

“Hey, y/n! Over here!” He waved you over, tools already having been set out to fix your car. It was like he had waited all day for this, you knew he had to do other things at work like fixing other people’s cars but something about it just made you feel special. “Wow, that’s a lot of power tools.” You noted, looking at the array on the tool box.

Corey opened his palm and extended it out toward you, you in turn took his hand which made him let out a laugh, shaking his head at you playfully. He did love the feeling of your hand in his own. It felt really, really nice. “Keys, I need your keys to move the car over here.” “Oh my god, yeah you’re right. I guess you would need those.” You laughed, digging said keys out of your pocket handing them over.

It only took a minute or two for him to get the car over and on the lift, you sat idly on a metal shop stool just watching him in awe with your hands on your chin. The sound of metal on metal filled the small space, drowning out the sound of the radio in the background. You couldn’t help but think about how he ended up here. Not that this was a horrible job, it just didn’t seem like his first choice for some reason. You had heard rumors around here and there that he had been a straight A student before the accident was even planning on going to engineering school but you assumed the accident had brought him to this job. Shattered dreams.

You watched the sparks fly from tools as they connected with the metal beneath your car. A part of you hoped he didn’t get hurt doing this, ever. It was something he did everyday but still you didn’t like the thought.

About thirty more minutes had passed and Corey was close to being finished when the sound of the service bell dinged outside signaling another customer was there. He kept working though assuming Ronald would get it.

“And there you have it, it should be like new. If it gives you any problems just bring it back and I’ll take another look at it.”

“You’re a life saver, Core. I was honestly terrified I’d break down in the middle of the road one night near a haunted house and be forced to go explore it to find a phone to call for help on--”

“Y’know where I can find help around this joint? No one’s at the front desk and I’ve been here for a while now. I need my damn car looked at right now.” The man peered over at you, looking you up and down. A glint of something sinister shown in his eye as he neared over to you and Corey who made a point to step in front of you. He didn’t like the way the guy looked either and wasn’t going to let anything happen to you. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re actually closing up right now. You can come back tomorrow at eight and we can see you first thing--” “No, I need it now. You and this slut have probably been foolin’ around all evening that’s probably why you’re just now getting ‘finished’”

Corey’s hand visibly gripped around the tool he held in his hand, the silver of his pinky ring glistening against the metal.

“Look we’re closed. The slut says so, now get out of here before I call the cops.” You stood up, daring the guy to do something. You knew Corey would loose his job if he did something about it and honestly you didn’t want him to have to fight a battle for you, he already had enough of his own.

“Yeah, yeah whatever I’ll just come back tomorrow. Hopefully the pretty little thing will be here.” The man slurred, looking straight in your direction as Corey moved in front of you once again tugging your arm to pull you back in the shop doors as he turned the lever on to close the garage door.

Corey had always had downright lethal comments made toward him, threats, you name it but why was it different when they were about you? It made him feel like they were towards him too.

“I’m so so sorry, y/n. That guy was an asshole and you’re not a-a slut.” He paused, hating that he even had to say that. Why couldn’t people ever be normal around here? He hated it here even more now than ever, you were honestly the reason he was still sticking around this hellish town now that he had met you.

You shrugged, leaning your head against his shoulder before peering up at him. “It’s fine, don’t apologize for him. It wasn’t your fault so you don’t need to apologize. You were a pretty good knight in a mechanic suit though.” He couldn’t help but laugh, still not okay at all with how the night had turned out.

The real plan was to surprise you with tickets to see a movie and get some dinner to take back to your house. Corey was trying hard to make himself try little things here and there for you, he was still hesitant to go out in public but a movie wasn’t so bad since it was dark in the theater.

“About my surprise, I still owe you that date.”

“It’s like you read my mind, let’s get the hell out of here.” You held your hand out towards his this time, leading him over to his motorcycle. Once you both were on, you wrapped your arms around his waist and held on as you rode away towards your destination because anywhere was better with him and he thought the very same of you.

#corey cunningham x reader #corey cunningham #halloween ends

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this-is-spn20 · 1 year

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Day 25 of Christmas: Celebrate Christmas!!

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! This was such a cool writing experience for me! I've never written this much in my life. But as fun as this was, it was exhausting. Honestly, I'll probably never do this again. But I might do something similar! It just depends! But if I do ever do this again, it'll have to be a lot of prep time around it. But maybe next year, I can collab with other writers and make this a collaborative thing! Perhaps even have you guys make submissions! Either way, Thank you to all the new people who followed me and my small blog! 51 followers! I might not be a lot to some, but I never thought I'd get this many! So thank you for spending time with me. Also worth mentioning, I will not be writing for 2 weeks, I need time to recharge. So if anyone sends in any requests, they will not be written/posted until mid-January. Yes, this means requests are officially OPEN again. I just won't be posting anything until the middle of the month.

I wish you all a prosperous New Year, and may 2023 have mercy on us all. Stay safe and healthy.

Spread Love,

-Marissa

The word count is 3,245. (I'm so sorry)

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Today was the day!! You were finally at the most exciting day of the year! You spent all month, not just sitting around, sulking in the bunker all month long. You did so many things and had so many adventures! So many new stories and memories made by all your friends, and you couldn’t be more grateful to Sam and Dean for going along with your crazy shenanigans. When you first brought the idea up to them, you just knew they’d reject it hard. But nope! They were reluctant, but they went with it, for you. And you hoped your presents would be enough to pay them back. You’d always loved giving to people. Giving so much that you barely left any compassion for yourself sometimes. You just felt that if everyone around you was happy, so were you. If there was a problem? You’d be the first to try to handle it. You were just a bit worried the boys wouldn’t like your gifts. You’d thought about them really hard before even considering buying them. But still, sometimes all the brainstorming in the world could lead absolutely nowhere when it comes down to the mercy of the recipient.

It was 7 am on the dot when your bed was shaking and you jolted awake, immeadiently you dug under your pillow and pulled out a pocket knife all in a flash. The person unlucky enough to be at the end of the knife was nonother than hellraiser Dean. Your knife landed on his forehead and he quickly jerked away, slightly losing his smile. You grumbled something about how you should beat his ass for scaring you silly like that. But he just laughed mockingly at you. He practically dragged you out of your bed and down the hall to the map room. Your brain and legs were barely working so you struggled to keep up with Dean’s long legs. Sam sat in one of the chairs and shook his head as he saw Dean drag you in with puppy-like excitement. You took and Dean took to sitting on the floor, eagerly awaiting Sam to do the same. Early in December, you’d all agreed with everyone getting 5 presents from each person. Meaning everyone is getting 10 presents. Which you all figured would be more than enough. You all agreed to rock paper scissors as a way to determine who would open their presents first.

Whenever that game came into the mix, Dean always lost first. And indeed that’s what happened today. You and Sam were locked in the childish game, staring at the other’s hands intensely. Trying to decipher the other’s next move. You and Sam played the game just for fun sometimes, it was a good little mind game to occupy each other for a bit. And it was always a toss-up of who would win. Today, Sam won. Throwing his hands in the air in victory, You mumbled something about not being awake enough for the game. Dean and Sam declared you a sore loser while you helped Sam grab all 10 of his gifts. The first box Sam went for was a medium-sized box and something rattled inside a bit he didn’t shake it even more fearing it was fragile. The wrapping paper went one way and the box lid went the other. Finally, Sam slightly gasped at the light blue polaroid camera. Sam loved it if the way he held it so gently was any indication. Dean then spoke up and said, “Well for all your modern technology crap, I know you still appreciate the older things. I bought extra film in case you go overboard, like usual.” Dean smiled shyly at Sam. Sam gave Dean a subtle bitch face but thanked Dean for the gift. He really did like it. He would always be a fan of classics. Sam absolutely loved the air fryer you gave him. He’d been begging Dean for one for months to no avail. You brushed him off to avoid more blushing when he expressed his gratitude to you. He was speechless when he opened the black leather boots you got him. You noticed his current boots were hanging on their last life and thought it’d be a nice present. Sam seemed to enjoy Dean’s Bluetooth earbuds and speaker, glad he wouldn’t always have to listen to Dean’s music on the road now. He also really liked the leather messenger bag from Dean. Sam being the resident researcher meant he had to keep a lot of books, his laptop, and papers with him at all times. He wasn’t really a fan of carrying his workload with him at all times. At least he had somewhere to put his stuff on the road now. The solar phone charging bank was perfect for his long hikes. He often had to end his hikes early because of his phone battery. He couldn’t do late-night hikes either for the same reason. But now, with Dean’s gift, it was possible now and he couldn’t be happier. The last gift from Dean was a mini projector for Sam’s room. Anytime Sam wanted to watch an old movie or anything really on a projector, was now a possibility. Sam was excited and looked as if he would burst with joy. But he wasn’t done just yet. He still had to open the rest of your presents.

Sam tore into the wrapping paper again with fervor. It was a huge package, and he couldn’t hold himself back as he let out a short but happy little giggle. You giggled too at his adorable, bright, happy face. When the package was opened, Sam couldn’t believe his eyes. It was beautiful. A gorgeous 4 feet tall bookshelf lay in front of Sam. He stuttered and stumbled with his words a bit before he just grabbed you and held you in a big, warm hug. His voice wavered even with his attempts to keep his voice steady. He whimpered a soft, shaky thank you in your ear. You told him he still had one more gift before he dissolved into a puddle of tears. He let go of you and opened his last present. He opened it to see a box of cassette tapes. He was confused until he saw the cassette player at the bottom. Sam looked at Dean who just shrugged his shoulder and sat up a bit, not knowing where this was heading either. You told Sam to play the first tape. He popped the first tape into the player and your voice played through its small, but fairly loud speakers.

“Hey Sam, I wanted to do something special for you for Christmas. This box of tapes is me reading your favorite stories to you and singing your favorite songs to you as lullabies! I’ve included a few other songs and stories you may not know just for a little variety. I hope you enjoy it. Sweet dreams Sam.” Sam pressed pause on the tape. Sam looked over at you to see your face flushed with a shy smile on your face. You looked up and saw both boys look at you in awe. They couldn’t believe you did something so sweet for Sam. Dean had a small smile of approval. There was a hint of jealousy you saw there. But he had his own set of tapes coming. He just didn’t know that. Sam was so happy. There were tears in his eyes again and he could barely hold them back. Letting one tear slip out. His voice was soft as he said another thank you and held the tape player close to his chest.

Dean was about to play rock paper scissors with you but you told him you’d let him go first. He was surprised but didn’t complain as you and Sam helped him gather all the presents addressed to him. Dean went to open a long present. Excited to see it was from Sam he ripped the paper off and threw the lid somewhere you didn’t register. You let out a ruckus laugh and Sam did too. Dean was pissed as he pulled a walking cane out of the box. Dean immediately gave death glares to both of you. You were pretty sure he wanted to beat Sam with it. Sam slowly stopped laughing and explained the gift hoping his dear brother would beat him while he was speaking.

“You know when we hunt, sometimes we have to hike or set up camp. Well, I bought the cane so that it’ll be easier for you to walk through whatever terrain and have a quick weapon to defend yourself if you’re alone or you just need something quick. That and you’re old.” Sam smirked and Dean was getting ready to smack Sam in the back of the head. Sam interrupted his thoughts by telling Dean to twist the little elephant at the top of the cane. Dean was surprised that the top could come off and as he pulled the top of the cane away from the rest, there was a long, fairly thick almost sword-like blade that was attached to the elephant. You stared at the blade in wonder and Dean did the same. It was so fucking cool. He loved it Although Dean did threaten Sam with a good smack if there was another gift like that in the future. Sam laughed and brushed Dean off, knowing that he would never do such a thing. Dean moved on to his next present with slight excitement. He opened another one from Sam. It was a coffee maker! Dean tore the remaining packaging on it and admired it as he slightly sat back. The bunker’s old machine was getting worse and worse. Instead of coffee, it was producing something close to a sludge instead of a drink. So Dean having his morning cup of caffeine and sugar wouldn’t be your guy’s problem anymore. The next few gifts had Dean damn near jumping around like a little kid. Dean really liked the pair of boots you got for him, and damn near tackled you when he open his own set of your handmade winter accessories. He for some reason was very taken by the gloves. He also loved the safe you’d given him. He had a hard time finding places in his room to keep his most prized possessions. He appreciates the fact that he now has a place for all the items he holds dear. Dean opened another considerably large-sized present and he gasped when it revealed a chair hammock. Sam told him he noticed the only place in the Dean Cave to sit on was the couch and not much else. Sam hoped he could help spice up Dean’s relaxing place with a bit more comforting furniture. Dean pulled Sam into a tight, yet short hug. Clearing his throat he quickly moved on to the next present. Another long package and Sam snickered. You shook your head, knowing you’d probably have to keep Dean from tearing Sam’s head off. Dean unraveled the paper from the box and almost dropped the box in surprise. You gasped and looked at Sam with wild, yet soft eyes. Dean’s hands started shaking as he revealed the red and black electric guitar to you in pure, unadulterated excitement. Dean played a few out-of-tuned notes and hugged the instrument to his chest. The number of times Dean said thank you to Sam was uncountable. Desan felt so proud to have a brother as cool (and annoying) as Sam. Another, longer hug this time was shared between the brothers as you looked on with slightly teary eyes. When they finally broke away, Dean quickly grabbed his last present which was from you. He tore the paper apart quickly to move on from his overwhelming emotions. It didn’t help when he opened the lid to the box and saw his own set of cassette tapes and tape player. He couldn’t believe you took the time out of your days to make something like this for himself and Sam too. This just solidified what they both knew. They didn’t deserve you.

The boys sat themselves up a bit from where they sat. You were last to open their gifts You grabbed all your gifts and looked to the boys with playfully suspicious glares and started opening the first gift you laid your hand on. They were getting anxious. This was a way for them to pay you back for everything you do for them. As far as they were concerned, you didn’t need to pay them back a dime. They just wanted to show you they appreciated you. In whatever way they could. And for now, they just hoped you liked their gifts, although nothing could top what you did for them. You started off with Sam’s gift which was in another long, thick box. You opened it up and squealed loudly while jumping up and down. You were freaking out when Dean told you to pull the thing out of the box. It was an axe bass based on one of your favorite characters of all time. Marceline from Adventure Time. You loved the show and all its characters, but you loved Marceline even more. She was just such a good character and attached to her. Now you had a token of her character. Sam watched the show with you a few times and grew to love it. He saw how much you loved Marceline, so he made the move to buy you the bass, just for you little fangirl self. You were such a manic mess, you couldn’t stop smiling. Even when going for your next gift from Dean. You ripped off the paper so fast the boys swore you took it off in one swipe. You opened it to see a roll of LED lights. You were never much for following trends and the newest fads. But you just loved those lights you saw everyone had on tik tok. You just loved the idea of changing the aesthetic of your room in a few seconds. It was fun! You hadn’t stopped talking about the damn lights for a week and now that you had them, you could finally spare the boys' ears. Until you inevitably found something else to obsess over. Dean’s knife necklace was a hit with you along with Sam’s pair of daggers made for you with your initials engraved on both blades. Sam also indulging in your childish side felt nice, most considered you to be a bit too childish at times but while that could be true, you just wanted to feel like a kid again sometimes. So when your next present from Sam was a medium-sized bubble machine you nearly crushed the man in a hug. Dean’s next gift almost made you cry. You knew the boys were getting sick of you going on and on about making new things with crocheting and such. You told them countless times that trying out sewing would be a dream come true. So when you saw a cute light blue sewing machine, you screamed so loud the boys needed to cover their ears. They knew you were happy but jeez did you have a pair of lungs on you. You melted when you saw Dean had already ordered different fabrics for you. Ugh, these boys were more than you deserved.

Sam’s last gift to you was one of the best things yet. He got you a telescope! You were so happy that you almost let a tear escape your eye. You’d always loved space and everything to do with it. Hell sometimes if you had nothing to do around the bunker, you’d look into the science of space. You loved learning about new advances made and you always wanted to look at the stars and planets. But since the bunker’s telescope only showed the different dimensions and now that didn’t work either since the departure of Mrs. Butters. You had nothing to see the stars with. Until now. Thanks to Sam you could now watch all the stars and planets you wanted. You wrapped Sam in a softer hug leaning up to whisper a thank you in his ear. He squeezed you even tighter for a moment, then let go.

You’d opened up all your presents and thought you were done when Dean protested, saying you didn’t get his last gift. Thinking you’d missed a box under the tree you looked again until Dean told you to come with him to the garage. The dammed garage you’d been forbidden to go in since the beginning of the month. You were teaming with excitement as Sam covered your eyes and Dean grabbed your hands to lead you to the garage. Your steps were unsure and hesitant. But when you felt the cold concrete in the garage touch your bare feet, you walked even faster. Finally, Dean stopped you and positioned you to face your right. Dean counted to three and Sam took his hands off your eyes. The first thing you saw was bright cherry red 1961 Chevrolet Corvette. You screamed for the longest time and jumped up and down. You couldn’t believe it! When you first moved into the bunker, the boys gave you a tour of the place. When you first stepped into the garage you fell in love with this car only to be wholly disappointed that the car didn’t start. You quickly turned to Dean and captured him in the tightest hug you could muster. Tears fell freely from your eyes as you thanked him over and over again. When you finally pulled yourself together, you went to Sam and held him in the same way you did Dean.

Dean asked if you wanted to take her for a spin and you quickly agreed. Not even bothering to get your stuff. You felt at peace and satisfied to hear the purr of the engine. You, Sam, and Dean drove all over town and were having a blast. Your holiday season was done, but that didn’t mean the adventures did. And you were ecstatic about the adventures to come next. With your boys at your side, you could do anything.

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rhysismydaddy · 3 years

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Prisoner's Game Pt. 1 (Rowaelin)

Synopsis: Aelin Galathynius never thought of herself as a vengeful woman. Until her boyfriend not only testifies, but leads a case against her that lands her in prison for the rest of her life. Post I-Love-You's. He didn't believe her, and she's about to show him that not only is she innocent, he made the worst mistake of his life betting against her. To a woman with nothing but time, life's just a game, after all.

The cinderblock wall dug into her back uncomfortably as she reclined against it, the air in the room was stale, and she hadn't showered in two days. By any measurement, Aelin Galathynius was far from her best.

And yet she somehow managed to look perfectly at ease--happy even--as she lounged in her cell, toying with the ends of her too-long hair.

It was a ruse, of course, just a little trick to piss off the man currently stomping into her space. By the flare of Rowan Whitehorn's eyes, it worked.

"Hello, Rowan," she greeted pleasantly, giving him a little smile and acting like it wasn't taking everything in her not to use the makeshift knife under her pillow to gut him like the spineless coward he was.

She could tell, even across her 8x12 cell, that he was gritting his teeth and fighting a similar action.

The heel of his expensive Italian loafers clicked as he walked across the space to the small table and took a seat at the steel chair in front of it. He tried to push it out further, but stopped when he realized it was bolted to the floor.

"Aelin," he said back, none of the so-obvious anger he was feeling present in his voice. "Been a long time."

Eight years, six months, three weeks, two days, and thirteen hours.

Not that she was counting or anything.

She nodded her agreement, reclining further on the bed and crossing her legs as if she was in the finest dress she owned, not a faded orange jumpsuit.

"What brings you to my side of town, Rowan? Here to finally switch sides and represent me?"

Dressed in a two-thousand dollar suit and tie, hair perfectly gelled back, he looked like he was successful a lawyer meeting with a wealthy client, but they both knew the last thing he'd ever do was work for her.

"You know why I'm here."

She did indeed, but she still said, "I must be exceptionally smart to know why you've come all the way here-"

"Cut the shit," he snapped, finally losing a bit of his cool. He regained it quickly, though, and continued, "I want to know how you did it."

She frowned at her split ends. "Did what?"

Rowan waited until she looked at him to respond. "You know what."

Sighing so deeply it should've rattled the walls, she said, "I can't believe I've spent the last eight years thinking you underestimated my intelligence. You clearly think I'm some sort of oracle genius."

Rowan mimicked her sigh, and she bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

Probably trying to stall, he spent a moment looking at her cell, at the completely bare walls and lack of photographs. All she had was the tally marks drawn in pencil on one wall and a dusty chess set sitting on the table.

When he'd taken inventory of those two things, he sat and just looked at her.

It was clear she wouldn't admit to knowing exactly why he sat in front of her, and he was simply putting off being the one to fold.

Predictable, proud little man.

Eventually, he took his loss and said, "I want to know how you managed to rob me from inside the most secure prison in Rifthold."

She smiled, a full, undulated smile she hadn't used in a long time.

She'd been planning this moment since the day the bars had locked behind her, and it felt damn good to finally see it come to fruition.

According to what she'd heard, definitely not what she knew from personal experience, the private vault in Rowan's apartment had been broken into. Apparently, only one thing was missing: an antique dagger that had been handed down in the family and was now worth over a million bucks.

"Why do you think it was me?" she asked, still smiling.

He gritted his teeth some more, and she internally snickered at the idea he'd have permanent tooth damage because of her. Something else to remember her by.

Green eyes spitting flames at her, he growled, "You left a goddamn business card."

Aelin forced her eyes up to the empty bed above her head, trying her hardest not to laugh. "Maybe I'm being framed?"

"Your fingerprints were on it."

She did laugh then, then laughed some more when his eyes narrowed. He looked like he was about to strangle her. "Rowan, in case you haven't noticed, I'm incarcerated."

She gestured around them to her cell to prove her point.

The bastard just smiled.

Of course he knows that, she thought bitterly, forcing her hand back to her lap and away from where it'd started to creep toward the pillow.

"So how would I rob you?" she asked, getting her mind back on track.

"That's what you're going to tell me," he demanded angrily. "I want to know how you got out of here, got all the way across Rifthold, broke into my apartment, and stole from me without any surveillance camera picking it up."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, fluffing it just right. When she caught sight of the impatience on his face, she fluffed it some more and readjusted the thin jacket on her shoulders.

It was always too damn cold in this place. She hadn't been warm in almost nine years.

Because of him.

Just for that, she fluffed her hair some more.

Then she said simply, "I didn't."

"Stop lying!" he shouted at her, eyes flashing.

She wasn't, but that was besides the point.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes like he'd won. "I got my cousin to-"

"Aedion spent the night in Wendlyn. His travel is verified, and there are at least a hundred eye witnesses that witnessed him singing karaoke all night. Stop. Fucking. Lying."

Once again, she wasn't lying.

Aedion sure as hell hadn't been in Wendlyn last night. She'd just wanted to make sure his alibi was air-tight as planned.

Sighing again, she asked, "Rowan, even if I did do it, why the hell would I tell you about it?"

His jaw worked for a moment, and she could tell whatever he was about to say was difficult for him. "I'll get time off your sentence if you tell me what you've done with it."

She tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help it.

It burst out of her, full and uncontrollable, and she flopped over on the dirty mattress and howled for a good few minutes.

He glared at her, looking for all the world like he was experiencing a portion of the rage she was made of, but regardless of the threat in his eyes, she took her time composing herself.

"I'm serving ten consecutive life sentences, you idiot."

One for each and every one of her "victims."

"I'll make it nine," he offered generously.

"Even if I was a cat, that'd still leave me dying in a prison cell. Offer me something else."

He just glared at her, unwilling to give her anything she could actually use or want. Just like she'd expected.

"That's what I thought. So no, Rowan Whitehorn, I'm not accepting your little deal. You can think I robbed you all you want; hell, you can even know, in your famous gut, that I did it." She tilted her head, a cruel smile filling her lips. "But it isn't about what you believe, it's about what you can prove. Isn't that right?"

His eyes shuttered at the words, and just like that, they were sucked into the memory of all those years ago.

~Eight years ago~

~Rowan~

Rowan rolled over, edging away from the woman next to him carefully as to not wake her.

Her hair was spread out on his chest, her soft hand was on his stomach, and her leg was draped over his. By all accounts, she was all over him.

And it felt so fucking good.

He'd never met anyone like Aelin before. Anyone so full of life, so hilariously open.

It was like she was constantly on fire, flitting from one place to the next with endless energy and jabs about him being too old and slow.

"What are you going?" she murmured, nails digging in slightly to keep him where he was.

"To get some water. Go back to sleep."

He leaned down and kissed her brow, and she sighed happily and rolled over. Like a total cliché, he watched her sleep for a moment, trying to get his feelings under control.

They'd been seeing each other for less than a year, but he couldn't imagine his life without her. He was in love with her, and if the way she acted and smiled around him was any indication, she loved him, too.

He ran a thumb over her cheekbone, smiling when she tilted her face into his touch.

He was whipped, and he didn't even care.

Rowan shook his head at himself, pulled on a pair of boxers, padded to the kitchen, and held a glass under the faucet.

Then frowned as it sputtered.

He figured he'd at least make himself useful, knowing damn well she would never agree to call the plumber when she could "figure out how to fix it herself on Youtube."

So he knelt down in her kitchen and opened the cabinet door, trying to see what the problem with the pipe was.

Except he never got that far.

His eyes got stuck on the piece of paper sticking out under a false piece of wood covering the back panel.

Knowing it was wrong to pry but somehow unable to stop himself, he tugged the paper loose.

Then fell backwards to his ass, heart hammering and brain spinning as he read it over and over again.

The list of names wasn't long, but all ten of the people on it were highly distinguished members of society.

And they were all dead.

He wouldn't know that, since the death of the last person on the list wasn't even public record yet, but he was the attorney working with the police to find the killer.

Why did she have this list?

And what did the numbers next to the names mean?

One way or another, he knew he had to find out. He also knew he couldn't ask her. He was in too deep, too unbiased to know whether or not she was lying.

He didn't trust himself with her, so he'd have to go the traditional route.

He took a picture of the paper quickly, tucking it back where he'd found it. He snuck back in the room to get dressed, leaving her a note he had to go to work.

He thought he was going to be sick as he left her apartment, a feeling suspiciously similar to dread coiling in his stomach.

There was only one way she could know that last name, only one explanation that made sense.

But he had to know for sure. Had to know if he'd been an idiot this past year; an idiot who'd spent almost every night sleeping next to the killer he'd been searching for.

So he started investigating his girlfriend.

Six days later, he found the security deposit boxes and the murder weapons inside, still covered in dried blood that would be matched to the victims. All with Aelin's prints on them.

Two days after that, the woman he'd thought was the love of his life was arrested on ten counts of murder.

Despite the tears she shed, despite the promises she made to him, despite the love she claimed to have for him, Rowan told the cops everything.

Even though he couldn't imagine her killing anyone.

"It doesn't matter what I believe, it matters what I can prove."

That was the last thing he'd said to her, right as she was being dragged out of the court room and yelling at him to believe her.

The truth of the matter was that when it came down to it, he didn't trust her enough. The facts were against her, everyone on the jury had been against her, and in the end, Rowan was too.

~Present~

~Aelin~

Rowan shook his head, almost like he needed to clear it from the memory they'd obviously both been immersed in, and she smiled.

She hoped what happened all those years ago still haunted him, hoped he went to sleep at night thinking about her and the betrayal he'd served to her on a silver platter.

The first year of her sentence, she was so lost in emotion--in the rage and confusion and deep, deep hurt--that she couldn't bring herself to do anything.

He hadn't even bothered to ask her first. That's what had hurt the worst.

He'd seen that stupid, stupid list and had jumped to the first conclusion possible.

She knew it had looked bad, had looked like she was guilty, but she'd thought that if the worst happened, he'd at least ask her to explain before slapping the cuffs on her.

But he hadn't. She'd gone to prison, and his career had exploded into stardom from the success of the case.

"See, Rowan, when you refused to accept any other explanation other than the easy one, you made a mistake. Because I didn't kill those people."

He rolled his eyes. "Aelin-"

"And I'm not only going to prove it," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, "I'm going to ruin your precious little life while I do it. Just like you did mine."

She stood, put a hand on the steel table, and leaned over him.

"If you want it to stop, all you have to do is drop these bullshit murder charges and issue a public apology for locking me up in the first place."

He stood too, so close his loafers brushed the toe of her dusty, prison issued sneakers.

"That's never going to happen," he promised, voice uncompromising and angry.

Aelin smiled, having predicted his reaction down to the facial expression.

His pride, she'd decided, would be the first thing to go.

She reached around him to slide the pawn on the chess board forward, leaned in even further, and whispered, "Let the game begin, then."

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan #rowan whitehorn #rowan x aelin #aelin galythinius #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction

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dreamifics · 3 years

Text

James Potter x Reader

Oneshot

Warning:just angst and sad fluff ig

A letter for James Fleamont Potter

Dear James Potter,

Hey, what's up? That's a lousy letter starter after years of pretending you guys didn't exist.. This would be a rollercoaster of emotions, so try to keep up. Remember when we first met? You were in Ollivanders, buying a wand when you accidentaly almost killed me?

A little girl was walking pass a shop called Ollivanders, she was simply minding her own business when a ray of magic blast to her.. She fell on her butt first, her hair was a mess, she looked like she got burnt..

"Oh, dear godric!I'm very sorry!" A little boy about the same age as the girl came running out of the store.. He had a messy hair and thick glasses, he gave the girl an apologetic smile..

"What in the bloody hell are you doing?!" The girl was mad, who wouldn't? She was just simply having a great day when an idiot almost killed her..

"Buying wands?" He answered unsure. He was just shopping for wands when this very powerful surge made him lose control and it blast to her.

"I look like a mess, Mother would be infuriated..", The girl mumbles to herself as she stands up.. She huffs and glare at the boy.

"I'm James, by the way.."

"I'm Y---"

"Y/N L/N!!WHAT HAPPEND TO YOU?!" Her mother's voice boomed all throughout the alley causing some wizards to look at them..

"Goodbye, you bloody idiot.." Y/N mutters to herself.

"I heard that!"

"You were supposed to hear that!"

And that was the start of our friendship.. You little dim wit, but I'm thankful for that, because I got to meet you.. Did you know that I was not very fond of you? You just wore me down, you're a persistent arse.. But now, it all made sense to me..

What my gut was telling me about you.. You were-- no no, you're still my downfall, James.. I clearly remember when it all daunt to me, the how and why? I'm still unsure about the answer to those two questions. I'm guessing you know what I'm talking about, if you don't... I'll say it or write it now..

I'm hopelessly fucking in love with you, I realized that when you went and announced your relationship with Lily.. There was this painfully hurtful jealousy in my heart and brain.. And I couldn't get rid of those stupid feelings for you..

It was another dreary Sunday in Hogwarts, Y/N was with the Marauders except for James, they were eating at the great hall.. They were talking, teasing and annoying each other when James entered with Lily in his arms.. That image broke Y/N to thousands of little pieces, she suddenly became one with the universe.

"She finally said yes, mates!" James announced causing all of the students to cheer and screamed, obviously happy.

To Y/N, the news broke her.. She was fine with James crushing to Lily because she though Lily was not interested.. But after years of pining and persuasion, she finally said yes. Y/N should've seen it coming, she should be happy for them but why is she hurting?

"Aren't you happy for us, Y/N?"

Y/N was called back from her thoughts, the question echoed through her mind.. Oh dear Godric, she was not happy.. She wanted to be the one under James arms, or to be the one to kiss him in the lips.. She love James, not like platonic, this was so much more.. She wanted to be Lily so bad, ofcourse she's not bloody happy!

"Of course, I am!Congratulations, Prongs!"

But what could she do? Y/N would have lost that battle years ago, she was not James type.. What could she do but just pretend that she was happy and fine with them.. She was dead sure that she'll forget all about James someday.. So until that day comes, she needs to fake a smile and accept her fate.

Loving your bestfriend is the worst thing in the world, James.. I wanted to confess so bad, but the idea of losing you was a heavy baggage to carry.. So, I settled by just being your friend but you don't know how many times I've wanted to confess..

To go up to you and smashed my lips into yours but you were in a relationship with Lily, so I never did anything.. You were happy, and that was enough for me.. And don't get me wrong, I tried to find someone else but you were the best James..

It has been weeks since James and Lily got together, no one knew how she felt.. She was all alone, fighting her feelings from overcoming her. Y/N was sitting in the library, reading a muggle book called 'Wuthering Heights'..

However she hated it, she was bitter and had no time for lovey dovey books.. Y/N needed to move on, she shouldn't be stuck on James..

"Hey, Y/N!"

Y/N was startled by a Hufflepuff student, she smiled and laughed..

"I'm sorry if I startled you, I--I just have a question to ask you.."

Y/N squint her eyes, she doesn't even know this guy.. She rattled her brain for any recollection of this guy..The guy saw her confused face and chuckled.

"I'm Oliver Rigby, the captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team.."

"Ohhh, yeah.." She just murmured but she had no idea who this guy is.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

Y/N was taken aback but she needed to move on, she can no longer be hung up on a guy that doesn't even loves her back.

"Sure.."

"Alright!I'll pick you up then!"

Y/N just smiled and walked away, she was reluctant to moved on.. Her heart was still beating for James, but she needs to move on.. For her own sake.

They were nothing compared to you, I tried to moved on.. But I always ended up to you, the same feelings always came rushing in when I see you.. Every guy seems horrible when compared to you.. The short period of time we spent together was wonderful, you gave me purpose when no one else did.

Y/N has just come back from a very horrible date, the guy did nothing but talk and brag about himself.. He was not like James who was funny and talks about entertaining stories.. The guy was not sweet nor kind, he was a bit of an ass.. That's the only thing he had in common with James, she sighs and sat in one of the sofa in the common room..

No one can beat James to Y/N, her standards were bloody high because of James.. She wanted to cry but that was stupid.. Crying over a guy who didn't even hurt her, she hates herself.

"Hey."

Y/N heart skipped a beat, she knows who's voice is that.. That voice gives her butterflies, she loves how that voice says her name..

"James.."

"Thought you had a date?Why are you back so early?" He questioned.

"O-Ohh.."

"Did he stood you up? I reckon he'd do that, he looked like a douche to me."

"Sure.." She answered not looking at him, James sits next to her and put her arms around Y/N.. She felt her body stiffen as his body made contact with her.. Y/N silently prayed that James wouldn't notice her increasing heartbeat, the stiffening of her body and the way her cheeks blush..

"Are you alright?" James seems to notice his bestfriend all red and she looked like very uncomfortable..

"What if I said no, what would you do?"

"Make you feel better, ofcourse!" His laughs echoed through the whole Gryffindor tower.. Y/N let out a dry laugh, she didn't mean that.. But her heart was breaking into thousands of pieces, she want this feeling out of her system.

"Are you really alright?"

"Yeah, maybe.."

"Want to talk---"

"Jameees!" Lily's voice called the attention of the messy-haired boy..

"I'll be right back, Lily needs me.."

"B-But what about me?" Y/N tried her very best to not choke up and crack.

"Later, Y/N.." James messed her hair, she didn't meant to be demanding however this was the sign she was looking for.. The sign that James doesn't feel anything special for her, she was just James very annoying friend..Y/N realized that with one call, Lily has James wrapped around her perfect fingers, with only one call from Lily, James was gone.. He just left her hurting friend for Lily, Y/N suddenly felt her heart was no longer there..

It was bruised and beated so many times, and now.. Y/N chest is nothing but a vacant lot, an empty hollow space.. The tiny little hope that maybe James likes her back can no longer be found.

That hope was now gone.

Y/N had reached her limit, it was truly over.. The love and jealousy she feels was a heavy baggage to carry. Y/N needed to avoid James, just until she was fully okay..

Y/N knew deep inside her that her love for James will never fully go away..

Avoiding you was the only reasonable thing to do, to be frank.. It was the only thing to do.. If I kept up that silly facade, I would ended up being mental.. You see James, jealousy is a monster that takes over your whole mind and body. It's a hideous monster you can't escape.. I do have a few questions, did you notice the not-so-subtle cold shoulder I gave you? Because back then it seems like you didn't, did you though? Did you cry every night like I did? Or did your heart break like mine did?

Y/N finally got out of her bed, she was in the great hall, hundreds of feet away from James.. But from the looks of it, he didn't really seem to mind.. He was too busy whispering sweet nothings to Lily's ear.

"If your glares could kill, Evans and Potter would be dead now.." Her friend intoned, she snapped her head away from the sight of James.

"I don't what your talking about.." Y/N denied..

"Of course, you don't.." Her friend tease.

"If my looks can kill, you will be the first one dead.." Y/N gave her friend a glare which her friends just brushed off.

"Blimey!No need to get mad, I was just stating facts.."

"Just sod off." Y/N just played with the food in her plate.

"If you told James about your feelings, he would've ask you out." Y/N's friend said in a teasing manner..

"No, he would never do that.."

"And how do you know that?" Y/n rolled her eyes at her friends question.

"Because I knew James, he was inlove with Lily since the start of our first year. "

"That's what you think.." Her friend crosses her arms and smirk at her.

"What?" She questioned confused.

"Nothing, idiot.. You won't understand.."

"O-kay?"

"Look Y/N, just move on.." Y/N scoffs at her friends genius idea.

"You make it sound like it's so bloody easy.."

"Is it not?You cry about it for a day then you find someone else.. " Y/N looked at her friend with a surprised gaze, is it that easy? How come it's so hard for her?

"See, easy.."

"Sod off.." She shut her friend down as thoughts occupied her mind..

Y/N was walking down the silent halls of Hogwarts alone, a frown in her face she hasn't been smiling this past few weeks.. Her back suddenly stood straight when the four familiar faces welcomed her when she entered an empty classroom.

"Oh, hello Y/N.." Sirius was the first to greet her with a big smile on his face but she didn't give the smile back.

"Y/N!I was wondering where you were these past few weeks.." Remus gave her a comforting smile.

"Yeah, I had no one to eat my sweets with!" Peter walked up to Y/N and offered her a chocolate which she didn't accept.

"I apologize, I have to go now.."

"But Y/N--" Peter didn't get to finish the sentence, she was gone, James didn't even look up from his seat.. Did he forgot all about Y/N? But Y/N didn't feel anything anymore.. Funny how numbness can have it's perks sometimes..

Maybe you didn't notice me because you were so inlove with pretty little Evans? That came out a little rude, I apologize for that, but I'm not sorry.. You see, I don't hate Lily, but then again kinda wish she were dead.. She was all you saw James, I was with you through your worst.. I gave you everything, but what do I get in return?

Just heartaches and neverending what-ifs.. You never saw me James.. Remember the day we graduated and left Hogwarts? You didn't even say goodbye to me, not even a single glance James.. I was not the only one who gave up on our friendship.. We both did, James..

Riding the Hogwarts train one last time was a bittersweet moment for others.. To Y/N, it was a relief.. She would finally get to leave the place that reminds her of James, every corner and walls was embedded with memories of Y/N and James having fun with each other.. It may sound nice but it only brought misery to her.

"Y/N!We're getting off now.." Y/N's friend broke her silent trance.. Y/N stands up and exits the train, her feet hit the platform floor, Y/N took a deep breath and wander her eyes to the sea of graduate students. Some were celebrating, some were crying and there Y/N saw him..

James had Lily under his arms as they talk with the rest of the Marauders.. Disappointment was written all over Y/N's face, this was the last day they would be able to see each other and James didn't even glance at her.. They were friends for years, she couldn't belive that their friendship was beyond repair..

"Quit staring at him, your looking pathetic." Y/N whispers under her breath, walking away without saying goodbye was not how she planned her last day in Hogwarts. Y/N was moving to America and will work in the Ministry of Magic there.. She does not want to work in the same place that James and Lily was going to work at..

Y/N needs to really move on, and America would be the place for it.. Atleast there, she's far away from any reminders of James or Lily.. Holding her trunk, she walks away from her old life.. No more heartaches, just miserable thoughts and lots of what ifs.

Moving here didn't even help, I'm still inlove with you.. You might be confused about why I'm just sending this letter to you now.. Well Mister Potter, I just got an invitation to your wedding and I'm very very drunk right now.. I didn't think you would really send me an invitation because you know were just strangers.. We spent years ignoring each other and now this bloody envelope shows up at my home..

How did you even knew my address? Were you keeping tabs on me? If that's the case then I'm very flattered and also a little bit creeped out but that's not the point! The point is, I'm not going to your wedding because I'm still fucking inlove with you.. I hope you enjoy the wedding though, also don't bother writing back.. I would never remember this anyway, so James.. Give Love, Peace, and Chicken Grease.

Sincerely,

Y/N L/N

If you guys have any request for imagines about ( marvel characters, DC characters, stranger things, game of thrones, brooklyn 99, friends, basically anything! I accept everything!)

#james potter x reader #imagines #james potter imagine #james+potter+x+reader #marauders #hogwarts #james potter #no voldemort au #oneshot #oneshots

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

Text

The Lost Boys Find Out their Fem!S/O is Pregnant [1/4]

Okay so these came out much longer than intended. What can I say, I took the idea and ran with it! So, for your reading pleasure each boy will get his own individual post! 🖤🦇 After this I may do a collective post of pregnancy fluff, you guys let me know. So, without further ado:

David

The first moment you felt something off was when your favorite foods made your head spin. An offering of cheese fries from Marko was ungodly sickening, the warm delicacy reduced to steamy, plastic goo coated on greasy, salty wedges. You politely declining certainly threw him off, and from the corner of his eye David looked your way. It only got worse. Sunlight made you dizzy, you could barely hold down anything with grease, or bread, or… or anything for that matter. Paul would ask if you're okay, you wouldn't even go on the tilt-a-whirl with them yet you looked almost green, dark circles under your eyes. Were you not eating right? It got to the point you started staying home more often. Leave early. Skip a day. Skip a few days.

And then, you just stopped showing up. The boardwalk felt empty without you, and David grew worried. You didn't just up and vanish. Even before you left, the last day you came you were so distant that you couldn't look him in the eyes, barely let him touch you. He'd had enough, if there was one thing he hated, it was being kept it the dark. Well, figuratively.

So there you were, hair tied up, in a massive t-shirt and shorts, staring half-lidded at the flickering TV in front of you, barely illuminating your dimly lit apartment living room. Your windows were open, a rusty old fan feebly attempting to push out the Santa Carla summer from your home while your food sat cold on your coffee table. Two bites in and you had run to the bathroom. At this point you were throwing up bile. Very few things would settle now. So instead it went to waste, sitting there for the flies to chew and be thrown away.

A soft breeze snuck in. It felt almost alive, swirling past your neck, down your back, across your face. But then grew stronger, and that tender touch quickly whipped your hair in your face, making your eyes water. And there he was, all clad in black sitting on your window sill with a solemn expression furrowing that stern brow.

"Where have you been, y/n?" His words rumbled slowly, your name slowly dripping off his tongue. The mere utterance sent chills rapidly down your spine.

"S-Sick," you hesitated to answer, quickly shutting off your tv, grabbing the wasted leftovers to dump in the trash. "Its just a flu, I'll be fine."

David quickly intercepted your path, looking down at you with fierce blue eyes and you immediately took a step back. There wasn't something right about you. "You're lying. You've been gone for almost half a month."

With steeled resolve you clutched the plate tightly, pushing past him into your kitchen "No, I told you I'm just sick-"

"Sick enough to avoid me? Sick enough to vanish for days without so much as a goodbye?" He followed you, always keeping close so you couldn't distance, couldn't resist him. Your avoidance was tiring on him, you could heat his words sharpen with each sentence. The more you tried to pretend there was nothing wrong, the easier it was for him to see there clearly was. "What are you not telling me?"

Your throat was so dry, even swallowing was a task. The urge to cry tempted fluttering eyelashes, and you did your best to rush towards your room. If you could just get to your room you could hide behind your door, not have to see the anger twisting his expression in knots. "I'm not feeling good David, you need to leave."

A gloved hand practically wretched your arm from its socket as it grasped at your wrist, David's shaking palms barely kept underneath. "I'm not leaving until you tell me why you're avoiding me!"

"Let go, David," you demanded, looking away as you tried to claw yourself away. The more you struggled the angrier he got. You've never shunned his presence before, never rejected him like this. A million possibilities cluttered his mind, each one worst than the last.

"You can't even look at me! Your disgust is so clear, its plastered all over your face! Is it someone else?! Does my nature make your stomach turn?!"

"No!"

"Then why?!"

"Because I'm pregnant!"

A cold wave doused any fire left in the room. David was still, his rage replaced by such an indecipherable expression. Frozen in place. The whole world was, there was nothing but the rattling hum of your fan still whittling away at the heat. His grip had loosened, but you didn't dare tear away. The floodgates released the pent up dam of emotions you had been holding back for the past week and a half.

Finally he had released you, almost stumbling back until he leaned against your counter top. Slowly he ran his fingers through his bleached hair, the word rattling around in his brain so long it became foreign tongues. "Preg…," He hesitated to say the phrase aloud. He was dead, physically dead. His heart had stopped decades ago, he had to live off of blood to survive, the possibility of impregnating anyone seemed to be an impossible notion to even consider. Could it have been another…? He looked over at you, at those tearful e/c eyes with such sincerity, such delicate fear that it sent a sharp pain through him. No, this was his doing.

"I-" The first words you spoke came out cracked, it was hard to speak without it feeling like sand scratching your esophagus. "I-I took a test… I even.. went to the doctor to be sure." You rapidly attempted to wipe away the shame on your face, sitting on the edge of your couch before your legs gave way. "I've been so sick, nothing stays. The only thing that didn't make me puke was raw meat. Raw.. it was so disgusting but I just wanted more... I can't even go outside during the day without feeling like I'm gonna faint. I-I… I do-don't know what's happening to me!" Your fingers grasped the sides of you head, nearly hyperventilating while salty droplets spilled onto the floor. That was all it took for him to swoop before you, kneeling down until he had you looking into his eyes. He looked just as afraid as you, and in that moment you could only sob harder as he pulled you so tight against his chest you feared you may break.

"...I'm sorry.." With one trembling hand on your back and the other holding your head on his shoulder. His words were so soft, strained. You never imagined your absence would hurt him this much. "Don't do this alone, princess..."

Those words said everything that could be said. He wasn't leaving you. The thought of what was inside you was frightening, but the mere suggestion of losing you in the process was the worst thing he could picture. You sobbed in his arms, clutching onto aged leather whispering your promises. You'd never hide from him again, never run away. You loved him, and the words didn't even need to be spoken. You both knew.

#lost boys imagine #lost boys 1987 #lost boys #the lost boys #lost boys david #pregnancy #pregnant #vampire pregnancy #female #female s/o #david #keifer sutherland #fanfiction writing #lost boys fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

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navpike · 6 years

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So I've only just found you and I'm screaming cause your writing is so good??!! It's amazing??!! I love it!!!! I'm so happy I found you and your writing. I can't wait to finish reading everything. I also thought I'd send a prompt if you're still open. No14 maybe? With Bruce and dick? I don't know. You don't have to though. But maybe something to do with that epileptic headcanon which is amazing btw and so true? Also my favorite so far has to be that argument btw Jason and dick.

hi i have no idea what prompt list that’s from cause this has been in my inbox for seventeen years. anyway, have some epileptic dick and also jason anda teeny bit of bruce and damian

[also, this is long, so it’s on ao3][buy me a coffee?]

Dick has his first seizure a week after he gets out of surgery.

He’s in the medical bay in the bunker, lying on a cot and watching Damian go over case files when suddenly he goes clammy and his eyes get very far away. Dick looks at Damian like he doesn’t know who his brother is, and looks like he wants to ask a question, but he doesn’t get the chance.

He barely gets the chance to say the word “Bucket”, before he’s gagging.

Damian scrambles for the bin at the end of the bed, and just gets it under Dick’s face in time. Dick throws up bile, his hands trembling as he tries to grasp the edges of the bin. Several things happen very fast after that.

He retches one last time.

He settles back into his bed.

His fingers twitch.

His arm jerks up towards his chest.

His eyes roll listlessly up into his head.

The entire left side of Dick’s body starts seizing.

Damian slams the panic button at Dick’s bedside.

He knows what’s happening, has basic knowledge on what a seizure is, but he has no idea how to handle this.

It takes Bruce too long to get to the bunker.

It takes Dick too long to stop seizing.

It takes too long for Damian’s hands to stop shaking after Dick comes out of the seizure.

Alfred wraps and arm around Damian’s shoulder for one brief moment. For once, Damian doesn’t protest.

He looks very much his age.

It’s the first thing Dick sees when he comes out of it.

That, in itself, is enough to terrify him.

~*~

Leslie comes by later that day.

Not twenty minutes later, Leslie Thompkins is in the Watchtower for the first time, and Dick is hooked up to machines and there are tests and results and more tests and more results and scans and results and more and more and more and more.

Dick’s trembling by the end of it.

For all he’s faced before, this is still the more terrifying thing he’s ever lived through. The fact that Damian’s refusing to leave his side doesn’t really help settle any nerves.

Several hours later, there’s a definitive answer.

Dick has epilepsy.

Caused by the gunshot wound to the head that he suffered.

Dick really doesn’t know why he’s surprised at this point. His life’s been taking a nosedive lately, why not add one more thing to it?

Leslie, Bruce, Damian, Alfred and Doctor Midnite are the only ones who know, now.

Dick demands they keep it that way.

Leslie and Doc Midnite launch immediately into a list of all the reasons why that is a horrible idea and how dangerous that is, especially given both of his lines of work. He handles firearms, for fuck’s sake, he needs to tell somebody, this isn’t something he can keep quiet.

He agrees to inform his employers, and that’s it.

Leslie is very obviously disgruntled but it is Dick’s decision, in the end.

And Dick Grayson is nothing if not stubborn.

~*~

He gets a medical ID bracelet, very reluctantly.

He wears long sleeves all the time anyway, to hide the scars. What’s one more thing to hide? It’s easy to tuck the bracelet under his sleeve and ignore its existence. He agrees to stay at the manor while they get his medication squared away. It’s safer that way. Loathe as he is to admit it, Dick does feel a little anxious about being alone in his apartment at the moment.

He has three more seizures in the next couple months and they up his dosage twice before the medication actually starts to do its job. Dick finally doesn’t feel so antsy about being alone after a month passes without him having a seizure.

He’s back at work, even if he is riding a desk until he’s certain the medication is working properly.

Things finally seem like they’re going back to normal.

He goes back to staying in his apartment six months later, and he’s finally feeling like he can breathe again.

And then he has to pull a double shift at the station because of an Arkham breakout. By the time it’s over he’s exhausted, he’s starving and he’s ridiculously dehydrated. He thinks that last one’s cause he’d had a bit too much coffee to stay awake.

He’s five blocks away from his apartment when he feels it. His peripheral vision starts to shake, and then goes black. He tastes metal on the back of his tongue. As he stumbles forward, he has to shove back a dizzying wave of nausea. He’s too far away from home. A car honks and it’s so loud to him he feels like his eardrums are going to explode.

He’s not going to make it home.

There’s a place, a block away. He doesn’t remember why, but he has to get there. He has to. He knows it’ll be safe.

So he stumbles to this place he only half remembers and presses buttons until someone buzzes him in and then hurries up to the top floor in the elevator and… he forgets what he’s doing.

There’s a door in front of him.

His door?

He doesn’t know.

He knocks once.

A man he knows he should recognize slams the door open a second later.

“Dickhead, what the fuck are you doing he… Jesus, what happened to you, Dick?”

Dick. That’s him. That’s his name. He knows that.

He forgets who this man with the shock of white hair at the front of his dark curls is. He knows him. He has no idea who he is.

Where is he again?

“Who are you?” Dick asks, tongue heavy in his mouth, the metal taste getting stronger with every second. He’s surprised he’s made it this far, actually.

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised but he knows he is.

“Dick?”

“No that’s me.”

“Come on, let’s get you sitting down, Goldie,” the man with the black and white hair says.

The door slams shut behind them and Dick claps his hands over his ears.

When he opens his eyes again, they’re in the apartment, and he’s sitting on the couch, with the man crouched in front of him. He lists sideways, and the man has to right him.

There’s a bucket between his feet.

Good.

Dick slumps forward and throws up the meager contents of his stomach, and the man has to stop him from falling head first off the couch. Dick would appreciate that more if he knew what was going on.

His eyes roll back into his head and he doesn’t know much of anything after that.

He doesn’t know how long it is before he knows what’s going on again.

“Wha’s…” he mumbles, looking around wildly. Oh. That was a mistake. His entire head throbs. His stomach churns. The light burns his eyes. His muscles feel sore.

He has a sinking feeling in his gut.

“Dick? Oh thank fuck,” someone… no. Not someone. Jason. Jason mutters. “Yeah he’s awake.” He’s not talking to Dick now. He’s talking to no one. No, he’s talking into his phone. Okay. “He’s awake, seems to be getting more lucid. Yeah, I know seizure first aid. I grew up in a house with an addict, of course I do, Bruce. You’re stalling. Why the fuck didn’t you say something about Dick having seizures? Oh, I didn’t ask? How the fuck old are you, five? I thought you were supposed to be the adult here. Anyway. Let me ask now. How long has he been having seizures? Six months ago? Great. Now how long has he been using? Don’t be dense! How long has Dick been on drugs? How long Bruce?”

And what? That doesn’t make sense. Dick’s not on drugs. He’d never do that. He saw how badly that affected Roy. He’d never start using. That’s not…

He looks down to see that his sleeve has been rolled up. His left sleeve, the arm he doesn’t wear his medical ID on. The arm he always injects himself with antidotes on. The arm he’s got track marks on, from antitoxins and antivenoms and antidotes. Not from drugs, but Jason doesn’t know that.

“Jay,” Dick tries but Jason rounds on him and snaps fingers in his face.

“No, I’ve got words for you later.”

“M’not on drugs, Jay,” Dick mumbles, trying to push up his other sleeve, to show Jason the medical ID, with uncooperative limbs.

“What, are you gonna show me one clean arm and expect me to believe you? I saw the other one, genius!”

Dick shakes his head and makes a pathetic whimpering noise when that makes it feel like his brain is rattling around inside his skull.

“Shut the fuck up, Bruce!” Jason shouts into the phone and Dick whines again. Jason’s quieter when he speaks again, but still seething. “This isn’t something you can just…” Jason’s eyes fall to Dick’s wrist when the metal of his bracelet glints in the light. “Fuck you, B, we’re gonna finish this later.”

Jason hangs up and tosses the phone to the other side of the room without looking to see where it falls.

“What’s that, Dick?”

“Med ID,” Dick says quietly, running his thumb over the shiny metal plate, engraved with his name, Alfred’s phone number and ‘EPILEPSY’ in all caps. “M’not on drugs. The track marks are from antitoxins and stuff. I’ve been doin’ this a while, it adds up. I’m not on drugs,” he repeats.

Jason knocks Dick’s hand out of the way so he can read the engraving on the ID.

He sucks in a quiet breath through his teeth.

“You’re epileptic?”

Dick nods once, a shallow jerky gesture. He winces after. He really needs to stop moving around so much.

“After… well, it was the last thing I did as Batman. It was a whole thing. But I got shot. Uh. I got shot in the head. I got better, obviously. It didn’t kill me. It just… fucked up my brain, I guess,” Dick says with a self-deprecating laugh.

Jason’s eyes are wide, one hand still clutched around Dick’s wrist in a white knuckled grip. It kind of hurts, but Dick doesn’t say anything.

“Why the hell would you keep that from us?”

Dick shrugs. “I’m on meds. I’ve been seizure free for six months, Jay. I was fine. It was fine, I had it under control. I just didn’t eat or drink enough or get enough sleep today. Still today, right? Whatever. I just. I’m fine. This was a fluke.”

“You can’t keep something like this from your family, asshole!”

“Leslie knows. She’s the one who referred me to a neurologist that can be trusted with a little more than most.”

“Much as I love Leslie, she’s not family,” Jason snaps.

Dick twists his wrist out of Jason’s grasp.

“Dami, Bruce and Alfred know.”

“And what, you didn’t want to share with the rest of the class? You know you’ve got three other siblings, right? And a hell of a lot more people who care what happens to you? You’re lucky you came to me, Dick. What if you’d gone to Cassie or Tim or Babs? They wouldn’t have known how to take care of you as well as I did. They wouldn’t have known what was happening right away. Because you didn’t say anything. Do you get how dangerous that is?”

Dick is silent for a long moment.

“Damian saw the first one,” he says, so quiet he can barely hear himself.

“Speak up,” Jason demands.

“Dami was the only one there the first time I started seizing. Alf and Bruce got there quick enough, I guess, but Damian was the only one there at first and when I came back, he just… the first thing I saw was his face and he looked so fucking scared Jason, and he was scared for me and it looked so wrong on him even though he’s just a kid and I–” Dick gags and has to lean over the bucket still at the side of sofa while he retches for a moment. He doesn’t vomit. Small mercies.

Jason puts a hand on Dick’s shoulder and waits him out.

“Don’t work yourself up so much, Goldie.”

Dick huffs out a humorless laugh. “I just didn’t want to scare you guys. I thought I’d just be fine.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Dick looks up, a little hurt, only to find Jason smiling at him softly. “You’re such a self sacrificing moron. You’re our brother, dumbass. It doesn’t matter how bad it is. You need to tell us all these things. All of us. So we can help you. Cause that’s what family does.”

“I–”

“If the next words out of your mouth are not ‘yes, of course’ or ‘will you tell Tim, Cass, Steph and Babs,’ I’m going to punch you in the head and you will deserve whatever that causes. I don’t want to hear anything else. Now get some rest.”

Dick just sighs and agrees and falls asleep.

~*~

Two weeks later, Dick comes home after informing the rest of the family to find a t-shirt folded neatly at the foot of his bed. Jason denies ever having been near Dick’s apartment.

But the shirt, reading “MY BRAIN OCCASIONALLY MALFUNCTIONS” in large print, with “I have epilepsy” written much smaller underneath it, says enough about who left the gift.

#dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #epilepsy #nightwing #red hood #batman #robin #prompts #fic #mine #atqh16 #dc #dc comics #epileptic!dick grayson

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