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geekgirles · 3 years

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“I’m sorry for the way I used to act towards you when we were fourteen,” she admitted before softly adding, “especially when you and Danny were beginning to connect.”

In which Sam and Valerie clear the air between them.

Word count: 5176

READ ON AO3

Before we go in, I just wanted to say that I hope I did the characters justice. Really, it’s all I ask because I’m still fairly recent in the fandom (as in, actively participating rather than fangirling on my own) and I’d hate to make a travesty of characters that mean so much to me. Oh, and this one-shot can take place in whatever timeline you want: you hate PP with a passion? Don’t worry, it didn’t happen. You actually think it’s a good finale? That works too. There shouldn’t be anything that indicates this story takes place in anywhere in particular other than Amity Park, so... All you need to know is that Valerie knows.

Please, enjoy!!

As an intense throb manifested itself in her right side, eliciting an involuntary groan to escape her throat, Sam was more frustrated at herself than aching from the hit. It had been two years already since Danny had the accident that gave him his powers, consequently beginning the constant battles against ghosts that made their teenaged life significantly harder, and, as they came to appreciate their lifestyle, significantly more interesting, too. Once Danny gained his ghost powers, she and Tucker took it to themselves to make sure their friend was always supported and aided when fighting his ghostly adversaries.

And with that came the injuries.

They certainly didn’t get hurt as often or as gravely as Danny, since he was usually the one facing the mischievous spirits head-on, but they still had to get used to their own fair share of beatings. The teachers were understandably surprised when they effortlessly completed their first aid training in Health class.

All in all, Sam was used to getting hurt.

Which made the fact that Valerie had landed such a perfect kick that it literally left her breathless all the more humiliating.

Valerie Gray, a.k.a. the Red Huntress. Danny Phantom’s longtime pursuer and Danny Fenton’s one time girlfriend. The once popular girl was now their trustworthy ally. And, as much as Sam hated to admit it, she was thoroughly kicking her butt. Perhaps she should have expected as much from a ninth degree black belt.

“Had enough, Manson?” Valerie taunted with a raised eyebrow.

Getting up slowly, Sam sent her a smirk alongside a challenging, determined look. “Never.” And with that she leaped on the ghost huntress, using her momentum to connect a punch to her face. But Valerie was faster, blocking the Goth girl’s attack with her forearm before sliding her leg under Sam’s to make her lose her balance. Seeing what her opponent was up to, the violet-eyed girl quickly got out of her way, widening the space between the two to give herself some time to think up a new strategy.

Smirking at Sam’s maneuver, Valerie appraised her with pride. “Not bad, Sam,” she said before changing her stance, ready to pounce, “but the extra space won’t save you from this.” Leaping into the air, the Red Huntress didn’t waste a moment to knock Sam to the floor with a roundhouse kick boosted by her movements.

Even if the Goth blocked the attack by keeping her palms up in front of her face, the sheer force behind it was still enough to knock her down. That was gonna bruise in the morning, she was sure of it. Glancing up she noticed Valerie looking down at her with a smug look on her face and her hands on her hips. Sam barely resisted the urge to scowl darkly at her. Panting, she conceded, “Alright, alright. Maybe now I’ve had enough.”

Chuckling at Sam’s proud nature, the green-eyed girl bent down slightly to offer her friend a hand and lift her up from the floor. Once Sam was at her eye-level, she looked down on her watch, now serving as a chronometre. “Five minutes. That’s a full round! Congratulations, Sam. So far, you’re the one who’s lasted the most against me.” She applauded her, but her face betrayed her. She was about to burst out laughing.

Snorting, the Goth girl elbowed her slightly on the arm. “Knock it off! Even if I lost, I still managed to land a few hits myself.”

“Yeah...Trust me, you don’t have to remind me.” Valerie complained with a pointed look as she rubbed her lower back. Early on in the match, Sam kneed her there. Thank goodness she wasn’t tasked with unloading the Nasty Burger’s products that week. “I’m serious, though. Danny without his powers lasts a minute and a half, tops. And Tucker...well, let’s just say that taking one hit without passing out is already a victory when it comes to him.”

“Yeah, he and Danny really should do more exercise.” The two girls laughed at that. These past two years Danny’s skill when using his powers had skyrocketed. Enemies that used to give him a hard time were now more of a headache. He didn’t even have to pay attention to the fight to get rid of the Ghost Box. Now, as Danny Fenton… He’d gotten taller, that was for sure. But he still had the nasty habit of relying on his powers a little too much, which didn’t do his P.E marks any favours. And Tucker was still far more interested in whatever his PDA had to offer than the wonders of physical exercise.

In truth, everyone had changed during that time, if only a little.

Sam was still as Goth and ultra-recyclo-vegetarian as always. Her raven hair was slightly longer, now reaching her shoulders, but she still wore it mostly loose and framing her face, except for the one strand she kept in a high ponytail. Her fashion sense hadn’t changed much either. She wore a black crop top with Danny’s logo on it instead of the old purple ovalーthe town began selling merchandise of its hero to attract, and basically rob, tourists. Since she created the logo herself, she made her own outfits and nobody was none the wiser. She also stuck with plaid skirts, but this time she favoured a purple and black one instead of her old black and green. But her combat boots, accessories, and make-up were sacred. Everybody knew impending doom was near if Sam ever changed even the tiniest detail in her appearance when it came to that.

She was still outspoken and an avid defender of animal rights, individuality, and most importantly, of Danny Phantom. Even though most people celebrated the boy and thanked him for his services, there were still some who criticised him and believed Amity Park was better off before him. Needless to say, Sam was always at the front of the line in any protest to defend Amity Park’s greatest protector. The fact that he was not only one of her best friends but also her boyfriend may have something to do with it. But even if they weren’t together, Sam knew Danny. She’d always known him. She would always defend him from those who couldn’t even begin to grasp just how noble, responsible, and compassionate he was.

The corners of her mouth curled up slightly when she remembered she’d just been sparring with what once was one of Danny Phantom’s greatest detractors.

In a way, Valerie had probably changed the most out of everyone she knew while simultaneously not changing anything at all.

In terms of appearance, just like Sam, she’d only modified her look slightly. She cut her long, dark brown curls so they now barely reached her shoulders instead of cascading down her back. According to her, long hair just got in the way with her suit. She originally wanted to get an undercut, but her dad almost had a cow so they compromised with short hair for now and leaving the undercut for when she was a little older. The huntress still favoured spaghetti-strapped yellow t-shirts, but now she completed her outfit with dark blue jeans or shorts (depending on the temperature) and white sneakers. She also dropped the headband due to her hair, but she kept the earrings.

The most obvious change, though, was that she was now an ally rather than an enemy after Danny Phantom’s head. Sam feared for the worst when Valerie found out her ex boyfriend was the very same ghost she’d vowed to destroy (could she really say she and Danny were exes, though? Sure, they went on a few dates and they genuinely liked each other, but Valerie pseudo-broke up with him right when he was about to ask her to make things official... Ugh, the wonders of the teenaged heart... Always bound to give her a headache. This is why she preferred her Goth indifference...most of the time). As much as they wanted to trust Valerie was going to be sensible about it, her track record wasn’t the best, forcing them to keep an eye out in case she decided to send her more positive opinion of Danny Fenton to Hell and shoot him with her ecto-bazooka.

Thankfully, one day Valerie just sat down with them at lunch, and when Danny tentatively asked her if they were okay, she just smiled and said, “We’re okay.” So they ate lunch in peace...until the Lunch Lady showed up and they had to send her back to the Ghost Zone. At least that time the Red Huntress was there to help them out. Ever since then, the girl sometimes fought alongside them, but for the most part she did her own thing.

And that was something about Valerie that hadn’t changed; her hatred of ghosts. Valerie was still hellbent on getting rid of all the spirits that haunted Amity Park, with half-ghosts being the sole exception ーexcept for Vlad, Valerie held a huge grudge against him for having used her as his pawn; not like the team could complain, they all hated Vlad, after all. And that made her ruthless, determined, brutal… More than once Danny had tried talking her out of her grudge against the paranormal, explaining to her that, albeit not as numerous as the troublemaking ghosts, there were still some that just wanted to be left alone. But Valerie would not budge. She believed all ghosts lacked the humanity and self-control necessary to resist whatever crazy obsession that tied them to our world and would eventually attack.

To Valerie, ghosts were ticking bombs.

Seeing as, so far, most ghosts they faced were malicious or seriously causing trouble, Tucker suggested they just let her be, but the moment she actually targeted an innocent ghost (say, Wulf), then they would have to get serious with her.

All in all, Valerie was their friend. A friend who had agreed to help her train so Danny wouldn’t have to worry so much about her safety when they were out fighting spectres. Not like he really needed to worry, she could take care of herself, but the more prepared they were, the better. And Valerie was helping her with that, and yet, the air still hadn’t been completely cleared between them.

As much as Sam would’ve loved cutting to the chase, a part of her still wasn’t prepared to address the elephant in the room. “Not gonna lie, Valerie, I wiー” she stopped mid-sentence. The last thing they needed was to have Desirée roaming free around Amity Park just because she hadn’t been careful with her words. Clearing her throat, she went on. “I mean, I would do anything for your fighting skills. You must have every ghost shaking in their boots...or whatever they have to shake in.”

As Sam sat down on the floor of her family’s private gym, which Valerie still couldn’t get used to being in, the green-eyed girl made her way to the other side of the room far away from the training tatami, where a middle-sized fridge was located. Pulling the door open, she grabbed two water bottles before going back to Sam. “Yeah, what can I say? I am pretty awesome.”

“And don’t forget modest.” Sam replied sarcastically.

“Girl, when you’re as good as me, you don’t need to pretend to be modest.” She joked as she handed Sam her own water bottle, which she accepted gratefully, before sitting down on the floor next to her. “Believe it or not, though, I became a ninth degree black belt long before I started hunting ghosts.” She looked at the floor, a pensive look on her face, “...we couldn’t have afforded the classes otherwise.”

Sam did her best to suppress the urge to do a spit-take at her words. Valerie almost never brought her financial situation up. The most she used to do was remember Danny why she hated him back when she still was after him, but the topic was dropped altogether once the secret was out. Looking around her ridiculously lavish house, Sam felt like facepalming herself. How could she have been so insensitive as to remind Valerie of the life she lost?!

“Valerie...I-I’m sorry. I should’ve told you to meet up at the park to train, but I…”

“Sam, don’t.” The huntress cut her off with a stern tone. “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to apologise for.”

“But it was insensitive of me toー” Again, she was interrupted by Valerie, who silenced her by raising her palm up in front of her.

“Please, let me talk. You don’t have to apologise for anything because you’ve done nothing wrong. I’ll admit, it’s a bit paradoxical finding out that while I was mourning my losses you’d been hiding the fact that you’re stinking rich all along. But I’m not offended by it. Actually, I think I understand.”

“You do?” The Goth girl asked in disbelief, her eyes wide open.

The African-American girl just shrugged. “I think so. I didn’t realise it until my so-called friends kicked me out of the group, but having money attracts a lot of fakes and shallow people. People who’ll only be there when it’s convenient for them and who’ll throw you away like a used tissue the moment you have nothing else to offer. I know that better than anyone…” When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she looked up to see Sam smiling kindly at her, doing her best to get out of her comfort zone and offer her some comfort. She returned the smile. “Bottom line: you want real friends, so you never talk about your money ‘cause you don’t want to attract the wrong people. I get it.”

“You really do.”

“And I guess I’m also flattered.”

Sam blinked slowly at her. “Wow, Valerie. It usually takes a lot to take me by surpriseーwith the ghost fighting and allーand yet, here we are!”

The huntress just chuckled softly in response. “What I mean is that I understand that it takes you a lot to let people inーand quite literally tooーbut you still invited me. That means you must trust me, if only a bit.”

Sam couldn’t help but blush at her earnest words. It was true, wasn’t it? She trusted Valerie. She would have never invited her to her house if she didn’t. And, now that she thought about it, Valerie had to trust her too if she was willing to show her vulnerable side to her. Somehow, the thought made her smile. Knowing she would have to bring up uncomfortable topics soon, the violet-eyed girl decided to alleviate some of the tension first. “Well, I’m glad you could at least get your black belt first! Otherwise we would be in for a major asskicking from some ghosts.”

That comment actually made Valerie laugh. “Oh, hush, you flatterer! Or I’ll tell Danny his girlfriend has been hitting on me.” She could only snort when Sam gasped in fake shock. “Seriously, though. I personally would love to be as genre savvy as you are. I mean, you always know what to do or have some obscure knowledge about whatever we’re facing. From the Fright Knight’s legend to how to train your dragon ghost.”

Sam merely shrugged with a lazy grin on her face, “What can I say? Obscure knowledge sort of comes with being a Goth.”

The two girls started snickering after that. As their laughter died down, Valerie noticed Sam’s smile fading from the corner of her eye, concerning her. “Sam? Is everything okay?”

“Valerie...I’m sorry.”

That took her by surprise. After a few seconds of shock, the Red Huntress rolled her eyes good-naturedly before gently nudging her friend with her shoulder. “C’mon, Sam. I told you already. You don’t have to feel sorry for inviting meー.”

This time it was Sam who cut her off. She shook her head. “No. No, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m sorry for the way I used to act towards you when we were fourteen,” she admitted before softly adding, “especially when you and Danny were beginning to connect.”

One would think that a semi-professional ghost huntress would have seen it all, and honestly, so did Valerie, but she was genuinely shocked at Sam’s apology. The shock didn't last long, though. “Are you seriously apologising for that? Sam, that was two years ago!”

Of all the things she could be apologising for...She just had to pick that one, didn’t she?

Sam groaned, frustrated and clenching her gym shorts with her hands. “I know it’s been two years, but that doesn’t change that I wasn’t the most pleasant person in the world to you for reasons that weren’t...completely pure.”

“So what?” Valerie insisted. “Neither was I for the longest time! You and Tucker were right when you called me out during Pariah Dark’s attack; how could I expect to be treated like one of the group when I used to be such a brat to you? You still eventually forgave me.” She pointed out.

“You don’t understand…” Sam whined as she rubbed her face with her hands. “While it’s true that part of my animosity towards you came from how you used to treat us, and another good chunk came from your eagerness to vaporise one of my best friends,” the Red Huntress actually had the decency to blush embarrassedly at that, “I really, really disliked you because I was...well, I was jealous. Plain and simple.”

There. She’d said it. After years gritting her teeth and burning with envy whenever Danny and Tucker (mostly because of Danny, obviously) drooled over Paulina or any other pretty girl, she had finally admitted she was mostly jealous instead of simply not understanding what the fuss was about. Hanging out with girls more often, namely Valerie and Jazz, instead of only spending her time with the guys had really helped broaden her horizons. Especially when it came to her opinion on other girls. She was proud to say she was finally moving on from her “not like other girls” phase.

Even if Danny’s crush on Paulina had driven her nuts more than once, it was his budding romance with Valerie that truly pushed all her buttons and caused her deepest insecurities to rear their ugly head. Even if dating her was dangerous, Danny still wanted to be with her! He was willing to throw caution to the wind if it meant they could be a couple. And he was so protective of her when Technus attacked… As much as Sam hated to admit it, as much as she wished (to Hell with Desirée) she could ignore it all and just focus on protecting Danny from being hunted by his new girlfriend, that hurt.

That hurt a lot.

Albeit annoying, Danny’s crush on Paulina was safe. Paulina only liked Danny Phantom. Danny couldn’t really get closer to her as his alter-ego without putting her in danger, and Danny would never put an innocent person in danger. And just like that, Paulina became unattainable. But Valerie…

Valerie liked Danny Fenton. She and Danny often just wanted to have a normal life, away from ghosts and burdens that no 14-year-old kid should shoulder. Even if the Red Huntress wanted to kill Danny Phantom, Valerie genuinely liked Danny Fenton. Despite the danger, she was closer than Paulina. And despite their close bond, she was closer to Danny than Sam herself. Because Valerie wasn’t afraid to admit her feelings, unlike her.

In fact, hadn’t Valerie put her job before her love life, Sam knew without an ounce of a doubt that she and Danny would still be together. Because she had been too afraid to tell Danny how much he meant to her sooner.

Yes, she had been jealous of Valerie.

She had been jealous of the attention she received from Danny. She had been jealous of the fact that they went out on several dates and nothing could embarrass them or ruin their little moment. She was jealous because it would’ve meant things would change.

But most importantly, she was jealous of Valerie’s guts.

And she finally confessed it.

...which made what Valerie said next all the more jaw-dropping.

“Yeah, I know.”

Her jaw hanging low and eyes as wide as saucers, Sam slowly turned her head to look the huntress dead in the eye. “You know?” She asked, completely flabbergasted.

Valerie snorted. She actually snorted at her question! And while Sam was looking at her with the most comically astonished expression on the face of the planet, Valerie just regarded her with a coy smile. “No offence, Sam, but it was kinda hard to miss. I think only Danny wasn’t aware of it.”

Sam had nothing to say in response to that.

“Besides, didn’t I tell you before I even started going out with Danny? When you like someone, if you don’t make a move, somebody else will. What did you think I was referring to other than your feelings, chess?”

“That...is true.” The Goth admitted quietly.

Seeing her usually outspoken friend acting so despondent all of a sudden didn’t sit well with the green-eyed teenager. She sighed, “Look, Sam. I understand that you were...difficult because you were jealous. I can’t deny I once or twice acted petty towards you because I was jealous, myself. But even if I hadn’t decided to just stay friends with Danny, I don’t think we would’ve worked out in the end.”

Not for the first time that day, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last time either, Valerie had taken her completely aback. Furrowing her brow in confusion, Sam insisted, “What are you talking about? You two are the best ghost hunters in Amity Park, you guys would have been the ultimate power couple!”

Leaning back on her elbows, the Red Huntress sent the Goth a smirk, “Ah, but you’re forgetting I would’ve had to know Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom were one and the same first. And I…”, for the first time since their sparring lesson began, Valerie found herself hesitating, “I don’t know how I would’ve taken that.

“Sure, I really, really liked Danny, but I had spent far longer hating his ghost half. Ever since the Cujo-related incidents I blamed him for the turn my life had taken. And even when I was growing fond of Danny Fenton, his actions as Danny Phantom still drove me nuts! I mean, he literally unmasked me right before my dad! He forbade me from ghost hunting until I got that upgrade in my suit. Could I really put all that aside in favour of having a relationship with him?

“That’s why it took me so long to face you guys once I learned the truth; I was trying to make peace with it all. I figured I could learn to forgive Danny, maybe even trust him with my life...but never with my heart again. There were too many imbalances between us for me to be comfortable in a relationship with him...and you guys are honestly better together anyways.” She winked at the ultra-recyclo-vegetarian.

“You really think so?” Sam could feel the heat making its way to her cheeks the moment Valerie nodded at her question. “I-I mean!”, ugh, how she hated stuttering!, “Danny’s always been super important to me...obviously! And we’ve always done our best to be there for each other and have each other’s backs, but there are times when I can’t help but wonder if perhaps we’re just making a mistake and we were better off as friends…” She finished with a defeated sigh.

At the sensation of an arm wrapped around her shoulders, she turned to look at Valerie. “Sam, trust me. This is no mistake. You’re one of the very few people who understand there’s no difference between Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom; they’re both Danny and you’ve always known that and done your best to show him just that. And unlike Paulina or me, even if you hadn’t known his secret from the beginning, I’m willing to bet my right arm that you would’ve accepted both sides of him equally either way.”

At her words, Sam could only smile warmly, “You really think so?”

Valerie returned her smile. “I know so.”

Still replaying Valerie’s words and organising her own thoughts in her head, Sam turned to face her, one hand resting on her lap and the other on Valerie’s shoulder, “For what it’s worth, I still think that after a, very understandable, initial bump in your relationship, you two could’ve made a great couple too. I meant what I said when I told you that, if Danny liked you, then we would only have to make room for you at our table. I can’t think of any girl I would be willing to do that for but you, Val.”

Valerie almost gasped at Sam’s words, but she recovered rather quickly, “Thank you, Sam. That means a lot coming from you.” Resting her own hand on top of the one on her shoulder, she winked mischievously at her, “And don’t worry; I don’t go around stealing my friends’ boyfriends.”

The Goth girl snorted at that. “Glad to hear that.”

They remained like that for a moment, just enjoying the comfortable silence that had settled between them and their secret understanding. They were friends. They had similarities and differences. But that would never change the respect each felt for the other.

Finally, getting up from the floor and dusting herself off, Valerie broke the silence, “Come on, there’s still many moves I haven’t used to kick your butt.”

Sam smirked at the challenge, “Oh, you’re so on!”

................

The Fentons’ Emergency Ops Centre had, ironically, become their safe haven.

Whenever they wanted to enjoy some alone time before they had to part ways or a ghost attack took place, they would simply climb up the roof and enter through the door leading to it. Although Danny could just phase or fly them there if they were really pressed for time, which was their usual way of getting there because they were always pressed for time.

The Ops Centre was really just an excuse to spend some time together, really.

It didn’t matter what they did. Sometimes they would make out because they were a couple and couples made out with each other, didn’t they? Especially when said couple consisted of two hormone-driven teenagers. Maybe if they’d been a pair of octogenarians, the fuss of the relationship would have been elsewhere. Like how incredible it was that they’d survived that long in the first place.

Other times they just talked about nothing and everything at the same time. Sort of like what they usually did, but without Tucker. Sam would often talk about the latest hideous monstrosity their parents had intended she wore ー”Oh, you’re laughing now! But trust me, Undergrowth had much better fashion sense than my parents!”ー, or how rapidly the poles were melting and nobody was doing anything about it, or how her latest poetry reading went ー“Kwan’s getting better, actually. This time he wrote about the new scabs he got during the last game”ー, and how they could defeat the villain of the week who was somehow harder to beat than the previous one because, really, they always got harder to beat.

And Danny would recall his parents’ latest shenanigans, or Jazz’s newest psychological experiment with ghosts that she was sure was going to work because it was just flawless; or he’d warn her about the food in his house ー”I know you don’t eat meat anyways, but don’t open the fridge. The ecto-weenies are back and this time they’ve brought BBQ sauce.” He would also complain about the workload of homework Mr Lancer had assigned them; sometimes because he didn’t think he’d have the time to finish it all, and sometimes he just didn’t know where to start because what the Heck is irony anyway? Didn’t anyone realise that what they often called irony was actually more of a paradox? How could they be teaching something wrong in English class?! And, sometimes, in those rare moments where Danny finally realised, only to forget his lesson all over again the next day, that he could count on her, Tucker, Jazz, Val ーand his loved ones, damn it!ー and confide his deepest secrets, he would open up about how being Danny Phantom was taking its toll on him. How being famous was more often than not more suffocating than flattering. How he was getting tired that his enemies only ever came back, or became stronger, or multiplied. How he feared, no, how he felt it was never going to end until he was 100% dead and not just 50%... He even still had trouble understanding what truly happened to him the day of the accident.

And maybe they just would never know.

And then, there were days like today. Days where they would just stay in silence, watching Amity Park since the makeshift observatory his zany but genius parents had built all on their own. Because, sometimes, watching the sunset in silence with that special someone was just enough.

While Danny leaned against the railing, Sam was sitting on top of it, enjoying the soft breeze blowing around her and caressing her skin. “Today I trained with Valerie.”

Perking up at the sound of her voice suddenly breaking the silence, Danny turned his head slightly in her direction. “Oh?” He let out, “How did it go?”

“I managed to last a full five minutes and land a few serious hits myself.” She stated proudly.

The ghost boy whistled appreciatively, “Five full minutes! Now that’s impressive.” He sent her a sly look and a smirk, his admiration turning into amusement, “And how many hits did you cushion?”

Curling her lip in annoyance, Sam muttered, “The fact that I’m even sitting here is a miracle in itself.”

That had Danny snickering like crazy, before a sharp pain in his arm stopped him, “Ow!”

To his surprise, instead of a smug Sam as he expected, he found his girlfriend gingerly rubbing her arm, a pained expression on her face. “Okay,” she panted, “that was so not worth it.”

“Here, let me help.” Gently resting his fingers on her arm, he used his ice powers to send a chilly sensation across her limb, effectively alleviating the pain. “Anything else I should know about? Did the training turn into a battle to the death?”

“Actually, we talked things out and we finally buried the hatchet.” She said seriously.

Danny furrowed the brow in confusion. “Uh, Sam? I was kidding. And I thought you already did that when she found out the truth about my powers.”

Chuckling softly, Sam could only roll her eyes with a smile on her face as she leaned close to leave a tender kiss on his lips before whispering, “Clueless.”

#Danny Phantom #dp #dp fic #dp fanfic #sam manson #valerie gray #danny fenton #tucker foley #jazz fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton #paulina sanchez #vlad masters #vlad plasmius #most characters are just mentioned though #amethyst ocean #danny/sam #my fic

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jawritter · 4 years

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A Thousand Years...

Chapter 5

Heart beats fast. Colors and promises. How to be brave. How can I love when I’m afraid to fall. But watching you stand alone. All of my doubt, suddenly goes away…..

Summary: A soulmate’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master. – Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

A new town, a new job, and a new life, one that you didn’t even expect……

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 1878

Warnings will include… Smut, language, unrequited/ requited love, cheating, and possibly more. This is brand new, so I will add to it as I know. Chapters will have warnings of their own if need be….

A/N: So my little cousin was watching breaking dawn in the living room, and I was folding clothes in the guest room… When the credits rolled and this song started, this fic hit me right in the face… I couldn’t escape it...

Fic Based on the Song A Thousand Years, by Christina Perri

Want More? Or need to catch up? Check out my masterlist!

*****MASTERLIST*****

*****SERIES MASTERLIST******

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To say that sleep didn't come easy for you that night was an understatement. When you finally did make your way into your apartment you were so drained and exhausted you couldn't even cry, but by the time you got out of your shower and into your bed all you could do was lay there and stare at the ceiling.

With Jensen's shirt still wrapped around you because it smelled like him, and even though that was wrong as fuck it brought you some comfort right now. You felt like your ex was trying to purposely destroy you, and take everything away from you.

There was so much you didn't understand.

Why was he being such a jackass? Why was he doing everything in his power to try and hurt you, and take everything away from you? Why couldn't he just let you go, let you move on so he could move on? You left town for fucks sakes, it wasn't like you were going to keep the damn car for forever, just until you could afford one. Hell, you even thought about paying the blue book value for the car to him! Why go out and look for a new car when you could just buy this one from him? It was supposed to be a gift to you anyway! So much for that.

Alas, if he wanted the damn car that damn bad they could bury him in the damn thing for all you care because by the time morning hit you were just done with the whole situation. That was the last thing you had of his, now there's nothing else he could take away from you, so he could quite literally rot in hell.

When you called your brother about it this morning he assured you that after he found him and kicked his ass they would work out a way for you to get back and forth to work. The only problem is that you were going to have to call in today, because he didn't get off work until after 8 pm, and your sister-in-law was away on business. So there was no one to take you to and from work today.

An uber was just out of the question. That would be too expensive, to take an uber 45 minutes away from Austin to Dripping Springs. If you had to do that even twice a month you’d never be able to buy a damn car.

If you didn't show up to work today though, you kind of had a feeling that Jensen was going to hunt you down.

Jensen.

That just added a whole other chapter to shit in your life that was confusing as fuck right now.

Why had he tried to kiss you? Did he just want to get in your pants? Was it creepy that he looked at your paperwork to get your phone number and address? I mean you do work for the company, so it's not like the information wouldn't have been there for the takings. So maybe that wasn't all that strange, but still.

Why did he care so damn much about you? In your own opinion, you weren't much to look at, and apparently, your ex held the same opinion. He was married for 10 years now and had three great kids. Money, anything he wanted. Why the hell did he want to kiss you? Why was he so invested in getting to know you?

Should you just walk away? Find another job closer to home? Even though you really couldn't afford to do that right now, and you did like working at the brewery... What if Danneel caught him doing that? What would she do to you? You would lose your job for sure, but is that the least she would do?

Just like that, a knock on your door brought you out of your self-loathing and confused mental rambling.

Normally you would have just yelled "It's open", but now there was a third person thrown into the mix of people that knew where you lived, and you didn't know how wise it would be to just yell that at random strangers on the other side of the door anyway.

Cracking the door you peak out of it and see Jensen standing there in a ballcap, looking around him like he was waiting on someone to jump out from around the corner with a camera or something.

As soon as you saw him your heart skipped a beat in your chest, and you jerked the door open. Jensen didn't hesitate, just jumped into your apartment, and watched you close the door.

"Sorry, normally I would have waited to be invited in, but you know, like you said If I'm seen..."

"Jensen, what the hell are you doing here?" you ask him, ignoring his rambling and watching him look around your apartment. His gaze seemed to be a thousand miles away from where you are now, even though he was standing right here in front of you.

"I was worried about you, you told me you were coming into work today, but you didn't show up. Gino said you called in, but I told you that I'd come and get you," he said, turning his focus onto you fully. His olive-green eyes searching you, feeling like they were boring into your very soul.

You ran your hand through your hair and looked down at your blue plaid PJ pants and Jensen's button-up, momentarily thankful that you had put a sports bra on when you got up this morning.

Jensen had text late last night to offer you a ride to work, but you just had ignored it. Showing up to work with him probably wouldn't put you very high on Danneel’s favorite people list.

"I didn't want you to feel like... you know... like I’m a burden to you or something... you're busy, you don't have time to run behind me," you said, still not looking up at him.

Jensen made his way closer to you, putting his finger under your chin and making you look up at him.

"Oh, sweetheart you are anything but a burden to me. I want to spend time with you," he said sincerely, and the confusion swirled around in your gut again, deeper this time than it was even last night.

"Why?" you asked bluntly, not being able to stop yourself, stress and lack of sleep making you a little more bold than you would normally be.

Jensen took a step back, looking at you in complete confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Why do you want to spend time with me? You tried to kiss me last night Jensen! You're married! You have a family! As attractive as you are, and as much as I'd be on board if you weren't already married with a family that's not going to change! I'm not that kind of person! I'm not a homewrecker! And I'm not going to be the other woman!"

You immediately wanted to eat your damn shoe, why the hell did you just blurt all that out? Had you completely lost your mind?

Jensen looked completely taken aback and took a full step back away from you.

"You don't know as much as you think you know,” he said, his words had a sharp edge to them that you'd never heard come from him before, and his eyes were starting to get a little colder as he stared into yours.

You knew you needed to choose your words wisely. He could fire you if you weren't careful, but more than that you didn't like the hurt look that was starting to form on his handsome face.

"Is that what you think of me? Some manwhore that likes to just pick up the women he works with, fuck them behind his wife's back? Don't you think If I did that with everything that came along people would have talked by now?!" His voice was rising with each sentence, anger quickly taking place on his features.

"Jensen," you tried to take a step closer to him, but he stepped back again. That stung, and you didn't know why. Isn't this what you had convinced yourself you needed. To keep your distance from the married man? Apparently so, or else you wouldn't have opened your stupid mouth.

He stood there shaking his head, not looking at you. "I thought... My wife and I, we... Things aren't exactly..." Finally, he gave up and shook his head avoiding your gaze, obviously deciding that whatever he was going to say wasn't good enough, or didn't sound any better.

"I came here to check on you, I can see your fine. I'm sorry I tried to kiss you, I don't know what came over me. Guess I just had too much to drink that day. Thought I saw something that wasn't there. It was my mistake. I'll leave you alone. Sorry."

With that, he shoved by you, not even looking at you as he went to your front door and put his hand on the doorknob before stopping in his tracks. If you ever wanted to break down and cry, it was now.

Your brain was telling you this was the right thing. Let him go. He's married. You'd just get hurt again. You can't live through that again.

But your heart... your heart was breaking into pieces. Tears were prickling your eyes, you felt like you wanted to just cave and run to him right there, but you wouldn’t do it. You held your ground watching him.

Jensen turned to look at you slowly. The anger was gone. He looked almost as hurt as you felt, and that just hurt worse.

He bit down on his lip and pulled a set of keys out from his pocket, placing them on the table next to the door. "There's a little Dodge Charger downstairs, dark blue, 2020, it's yours, I was going to give it to you anyway today because I don't think anyone should be put in the position you were put in because of a bitter ex who thinks they have an upper hand."

Tears were flowing down your face now, you made to speak, but Jensen just raised his hand to stop you, and you caught sight of the little golden band that was still on his left hand. Your throat felt like it was going to close in on you.

You didn’t think it was possible to hate a little piece of jewelry as much as you did right now. There it was though, shining, and mocking you.

"My lawyer will contact you at work tomorrow, bring the paperwork by to get everything transferred over into your name. I hope you still don't think so little of me Y/N, because even though it's probably wrong since I saw you for the first time... I've been drawn to you. I hoped..."

Jensen stopped himself, opening the door he stepped out into the hallway, leaving you standing there still in his shirt, tears flowing down your face and your heart in a million pieces at your feet, keys to a brand new car downstairs staring you in the face...

You fell to your knees in the middle of the floor and cried until you couldn't anymore.

You’d been heartbroken before but never like this. It was deep. It was completely invading, it was final. You weren’t in a relationship with the man, you barely knew one another. Why did it hurt like this?

Even though your brain said you did the right thing, your heart wasn't in agreement, and you felt like you just wanted to die.

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

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#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles smut #supernatural fanfiction #jensen ackles series #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #dean winchester #a thousand years #jawritter #supernatural #supernatural fic

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Atlas: Space, Neptune

TITLE: Atlas: Space

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: 10/12

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine narrating episodes of Loki’s life with the Avengers based on the songs from Sleeping At Last’s “Atlas: Space” album.

RATING: T-M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Welcome to my Sleeping At Last’s Atlas: Space challenge, aka Another writing project I do not have time for, but my brain insisted on doing.

This series will be less like a multichapter fic and more of a one-shot compendium, but that they all interconnect in one way or another. It will revolve around Loki and Becca’s relationship (Taking Turns, Glow, Helmet Heists–don’t worry, more Loki-Charlie stuff will be along) and I will use those one-shots as reference to the timeline. Each chapter will be one song, used as inspiration for the story.

Chapter 10: Neptune

Summary: Loki and Becca have decided to discuss the last decade of their lives without each other. Loki finds that his absence has done much more harm than he intended, but he vows to make amends. (Immediately after Glow.)

Warnings include: Language, mentions of suicide, disease, cancer, implied smut, angst but ends well?

Pitch black, pale blue It was a stained glass Variation of the truth And I felt empty handed

They were meant to be taking turns, telling each other what had happened in that stretch of years since they had last met. He truly wanted to tell Rebecca of every detail she had missed due to his self-imposed exile, but the second the coffee, eggs, and toast hit the table, they both felt eerily silent. Loki stared at the black liquid swirling in his mug, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Despite the growing discomfort, his eyes inevitably pulled to her. Even after all this time, the very sight of her, as different as it was now, made his heart stutter. It immediately morphed into a constricting pain in his chest, forcing him to clear his throat awkwardly.

You let me set sail With cheap wood So I patched up Every leak that I could ’til the blame grew too heavy

Could he tell her the truth?

Sure, she deserved it. More than anything–the jewels and vast empires he wanted to gift her–she deserved the truth. Could he tell her that he had run just because he was afraid? What kind of monster would that make him? Especially now that he knew how much she had hurt in his absence. It felt like such an empty excuse now–perhaps it always was. Through the dip in her v-neck long-sleeve shirt, he could spy a glossy scar, perfectly round, beneath her collarbone. He felt a momentary compulsion to brush his fingers against the shiny skin, but he closed his hands around his mug.

Stitch by stitch, I tear apart If brokenness is a form of art I must be a poster child prodigy Thread by thread, I come apart If brokenness is a work of art Surely this must be my masterpiece

“Stop looking at me like that, for fuck’s sake,” she breathed out, teeth grit painfully tight. Loki blinked forcefully, and he almost asked what she meant before she interrupted. “Like you’re wondering whether or not I’m broken. I think you know I am.”

“No! I–” He stopped when she gave him a withering look for lying. “I’m sorry. It’s taking longer than I thought to reconcile seeing you…so different. It–”

Her face hardened, an expression that he was so unfamiliar with that it startled him. His own softened in response. “I did what I could with what I had. With who I had because I did not have the luxury to go off on some stupid space adventure–”

“I’m sorry. I will beg you on my knees until my dying breath for you to forgive me, but I can’t change any of that, Becca.” He growled at himself, taking a deep breath and staring upwards to get the prickling tears in his eyes under control. “Please, just eat your breakfast.”

“I’m not very hungry,” she replied, pushing her plate away.

“Rebecca,” he warned gently and she scoffed.

“You don’t get to do that, Loki.” She curled up in her seat, drawing her knees to her chest, protecting herself. “Coming back doesn’t give you an automatic pass. It doesn’t put us right back to where we left off.” Outside, the weather had taken its cues from her mood, and the window darkened with storm clouds.

I’m only honest when it rains If I time it right, the thunder breaks When I open my mouth I want to tell you, but I don’t know how

“I know. I am sorry. I am trying. I swear to you I am trying to figure out how to tell you that I am a shit individual and that I wish I could take back every single second that I wasn’t here. This wasn’t what I wanted for you. This was never–”

The tears finally won over, coming down his cheeks, unhindered, as he silently willed her to take a bite of toast, of eggs, anything. He clenched his eyes shut, head hanging low. His eyes had spied more shiny bits of skin, but these made his blood run cold.

“What are those scars?”

The way he asked the question left out any doubt of him knowing exactly what they were. He didn’t even need to watch her to know she had shifted her arms inwards.

I’m only honest when it rains An open book with a torn out page And my ink’s run out I want to love you, but I don’t know how

I don’t know how No, I don’t know how I don’t know how I want to love you, but I don’t know how

I want to love you…

“Desperation,” she answered after a long, long silence. “I didn’t have a Bifrost handy.”

She offered him a tight-lipped smile when his eyes shot up. It wasn’t like he didn’t already know, but the confirmation hurt all the same. He had been honest with her about his inner turmoil after he discovered he was adopted. It wasn’t a secret that he had let go of his adoptive father’s spear without a second thought. Becca had been so angry to learn that he felt like there was nothing else to do but fall into the abyss. He now understood that rage.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Becca snorted. “It’s kind of a one-person job, Lo.”

“That’s not funny!” He roared, landing his fist on the table hard enough to make the flatware rattle.

“You’re right. You’re right. It would’ve been a joke if I had said I needed a better supervisor to finish the job,” she riposted, deadpan.

His hand clenched around his coffee mug, almost debating if it was worth it to throw it against the wall so that it would relieve some of his tension, but deciding against it. He hurriedly swallowed a sip that scalded all the way to his stomach.

“I don’t know why you’re upset. You wanted to know what happened. That’s what happened. I worked, alone. I mourned your death. I got sick. I got carved up like a roast. I was sick while still being sick. I didn’t want to do it, anymore. I did something about it. I failed. Now you’re here. And I am glad, but loving you doesn’t make anything else any less real and it doesn’t make me any less angry.”

Her words felt like a weight upon his chest, threatening to crack it open.

“How can you still love me?” Loki’s voice was small and shaky.

That was the real question, wasn’t it? How could she even harbor indifference for him after his abandonment. He didn’t deserve her light, her kindness, her well-placed rage.

“I don’t know.”

Pitch black, pale blue These wild oceans Shake what’s left of me loose Just to hear me cry mercy

A strong wind at my back So I lift up the only sail that I have This tired white flag

The dam broke. A sob wrenched her chest and she lowered her head to her hands, fingers pulling at the short tresses in what had to be a painful way. “I don’t know,” she repeated. “None of this makes sense, but we never made sense, did we?”

Loki finally moved out of his seat, taking a knee in front of her and tracing shapes on her knees over her plaid pajama bottoms. “That’s not quite true, is it? You and I always clicked rather well, despite how much of a bad idea that was.”

“There’s not much left of me, nowadays, to click to anything.”

“I’ll give you every piece you need to be whole, again,” he assured. “Every molecule of me is already on borrowed time and I will give every instant to you if it’ll make you smile–”

Becca covered his mouth with her hand, which she dropped once he nodded in agreement of his silence. “I can’t live with promises, anymore. Don’t promise me a thing–”

“But–”

“Loki. A promise is worth nothing if you don’t follow through.”

“I swore to you that I would stay until you demand I leave.” He swallowed thickly and breathed deep. “I know I said that before, but I was an idiot, too scared to lose you, too scared of his own demons to love you as you deserved.” He settled back on his haunches, giving her space to breathe. “I am here for you, body, heart and soul. I surrender to you and only you. This is the only place I want to be, Becca.”

With a sniffle, she joined him on the floor, slipping into his arms to hug his middle. She shuddered at the familiarity of his touch, slightly cool, and smelling like pine and cinnamon.

Loki tentatively lowered his lips to hers, tasting the few sips of bitter coffee on her tongue. His body knew how to navigate far before his mind had even caught up to what was occurring. He sought to comfort her frantic nerves, hanging by the barest threads, soothe her mind and ease her burden. Lips trailed down her jaw until they reached her neck, where they settled against her pulse and nipped. When his fingers itched at the hem of her shirt, she stopped him with a hand around his wrist.

“I apologize. I moved too fast,” he panted, moving a fraction back to look at her face. A flash of lightning illuminated her face in an eerie glow.

I don’t know how, know how, know how I want to love you, but I don’t know how

I want to love you…

A dark shadow crossed her expression. “No, it’s not that.” He prompted her to continue with a nod. “I’m not the same.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she shook her head as a deterrent. “It’s not the weight, it's…”

He frowned, catching the hem of her shirt. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking for permission. Becca simply looked away, clenching her eyes shut. Loki slowly hitched her t-shirt up, ignoring the sight of her ribs, sticking out awkwardly, knowing he could remedy that easily enough, and soared past until reaching two large scars on her chest just below her now mutilated breasts.

“Who did this to you?”

Becca clenched her eyes tighter. This was clearly one of those things she did not want to talk about, but he wanted–needed–to know. “I got sick again,” she repeated for what she felt was the millionth time that day. “They had to…”

“Cancer?” He asked, breathlessly, his fingers tracing over her scars with a featherlight touch. He was familiar with the Midgardian disease, though he had not met anyone to suffer it, firsthand. She nodded her assent, jerkily. “Again? What do you mean, again?” Holding her breath, she leaned back, pulling her bottoms down just enough to show him the scar between her hips. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when–”

“You were dead,” she said as way of excuse.

“I still heard your pain,” he admitted, swathing her skin with his hands. She only looked half surprised. “I was meant for Valhalla and through the darkness I heard you, and all I wanted was to reach you.” He pressed his forehead against hers.

“You did.”

“Much too late, dove.” He cursed under his breath, for what felt like the millionth time. “I should have stayed. I could have helped, anything.” When he couldn’t bare the what ifs any longer, he kissed her again, pulling her body into his. “I intend to make amends,” he husked, attacking her neck with renewed fervor, forcing a groan from Becca’s mouth. Her brief hesitation was short-lived as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he lowered them both to the floor.

“Thank you,” she murmured as the lay naked and panting on the floor some time later. “For not freaking out.”

“Why would I? I get to discover every inch of you all over again,” he replied, smiling contentedly, fingers idly brushing the scar over her womb in a way that made her shiver.

“Same.” She tapped a scar over his chest with her index. “What happened there?”

“That’s a long story,” he sighed, resting his head on her chest to listen to the steady thumping of her heart.

“We have time.”

“That we do.” He smiled, realized the implication of the phrase. He was to stay. “Well, it started with my oaf of a brother…”

#Loki #Lover #Angst #Others #Submitted fic #submission #Fanfictrashdump #chapter 10 #atlas space #neptune

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lemonsandstrawberries · 4 years

Text

Ex-husband, part 2

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony), with a side of Winterfalcon (Bucky x Sam), AU

summary: Steve and Tony met for their 'date' and it turns out that it was a very bad idea.

length: 3 525 words

disclaimer: fic belongs into the chubby!Tony category

a/n: this gets a little dramatic, but what is life without some drama, right? hope you like it! feedback, reblogs, likes are needed and appreciated!

—————

Ex-husband, part 2

Steve stood in front of the mirror, eyeing himself critically. He had a very important decision to make and it was boggling his mind.

Paraphrasing the great writer - to shave or not to shave?

Pro shave. It was the morning of his 'date' with Tony and during their dating and married time, Steve always had shaved, maybe not counting the very lazy days, when he grew a light stubble, but never had the full, thick beard look like he had now. Tony knew his smooth face and Steve remembered the way Tony's warm fingers used to trace his jawline, the feeling of his ex-husband's scratchy goatee, but scratchy in a pleasant way as Tony used some mysterious mix of oils on his precious goatee to keep the hair healthy and soft, pressed to his cheek in a kiss. He almost wondered off, also remembering Tony's soft body pressed to him, legs tangling together, hips moving in the same rhythm -

Dammit, focus, Rogers.

Con shave. He didn't want Tony to think that he was trying too hard. He had already forced himself on Tony and insisted on a meeting, against all common sense. When he thought about it, he didn't even know what this meeting was going to be - a date was too big of a word, a casual get together was too vague and didn't give proper credit to their shared history. Steve just really wanted this. Not to move on, just to feel complete again. He knew had ruined their marriage and it was not coming back, too many arguments and harsh words instead of soft voices and warm embraces spoiling something that once was so good and felt so natural. He would give anything to get this feeling back, even just for a minute.

Including his beard.

But then again, he didn't want Tony to get a wrong impression.

Ultimately, Steve decided to leave the beard. He tugged on his hair, which during the past six months grew to his chin, falling in straight strands and framing his face. Maybe if he hurried, he could get a hair cut and -

The alarm going on in his phone, made Steve jump up. One hour. One hour before Tony would see him and he had spent a large part of his morning contemplating if he needed a shave or not. He was supposed to leave at this time to not keep Tony waiting. He made a frantic move to bolt out of the bathroom and get changed, at least he had chosen his clothes day earlier, but the sight of the shower caught his attention. Yeah, he was in desperate need of a shower.

***

Steve didn't arrive early as he had in his habit, thank God, he wasn't late either, fearing that Tony might wander off thinking that he was stood up, he was exactly on time. Which probably was also weird and not like him. What was even weirder was that his ex-husband was already sitting in the cafeteria patio, legs crossed gently and sunglasses on his nose, as he was looking off somewhere, lost in his thought, the sunlight playing in his brown hair and giving it soft caramel reflexes. Tony was wearing a grey suit and a t-shirt with a band logo, giving the almost formal look a casual appearance, and Steve felt like an idiot in his three-button dark blue henley shirt (unbuttoned, of course) and washed-out jeans, a black belt holding jeans in place. Tony just looked effortlessly pretty and Steve was trying way too hard.

When Tony turned his face to him, Steve's heart did a little flip. Tony smiled, but because of the sunglasses, Steve didn't know if the smile reached his eyes and raised his hand up, bringing Steve's attention to him. Steve mirrored the gesture, not able to control his own smile, and made it through the other patrons, Tony standing up from his seat to properly greet him.

That wasn't awkward at all when Tony went for a handshake, and Steve, carried on the moment, leaned in to kiss Tony on the cheek for hello. Not awkward at all. In the end, Tony decided to roll with it and let Steve lean in fully, allowing the small peck land on his warm cheek. That made Steve want the ground to open and swallow him, but it was not the time for self-loathing.

"So, how you have been doing?" Steve asked, sitting down on the folding chair, trying to sound suave and casual. It was the moment when he had realized that Tony chose a different table, not the usual one they always had, tucked away in a private corner, near a wall with green leaves climbing up, hiding them from the rest of the world. He tried to subtly look in that direction and saw that their spot was empty so Tony chose this new place deliberately, in the middle of the patio, among people.

"Uh, since yesterday? Not much changed," Tony replied, a small, snarky smile playing at the corner of his lips.

That coupled with the sudden realization about abandoning their spot had dampened the mood. Steve was never good at small talk. It was Tony's forte, his ex-husband was charming and had his way with the words, while Steve was more of a straight to the point guy. Steve had no sunglasses to hide his eyes behind and Tony had to notice the hurt look passing through the blue eyes, because the next second his body became less tense and he took the sunglasses off, hanging them on top of his shirt.

"I am fine, Steve," Tony said, almost sounding sorry for coming of hostile. "You?"

Steve needed a second to process that question, his heart thumping behind his chest while Tony's warm brown eyes were focused on him. Never before Tony and never after him, Steve had met anyone with such expressive, shiny eyes. He could always tell Tony's mood by his eyes. The happy sparkle whenever Steve made him laugh, the soft look during cuddling, the heat and passion during their intimate moments. He missed seeing those eyes as the first thing in the morning and the last in the evening.

"I am fine too," Steve answered, his voice sounding dry. "Um, are those the clothes you bought yesterday?" Steve asked, just to show that he wasn't that pathetic and was able to carry on a conversation when he made a fatal mistake and looked down Tony's body, his eyes stopping on his midriff. There was a little roundness in that area, the shirt hugging it snugly and accenting what Tony was hoping to mask with the dark material. His eyes lingered there for a few seconds too long to brush it off as a casual look, but Steve couldn't keep his eyes off, feeling some hot feeling stirring in him, something he thought was gone a long time ago.

Tony coughed and shifted in his seat, putting his elbows on the table and leaning in to hide. "Yeah, yeah, they are."

It was rude to stare, Rogers. Steve looked back at Tony's face. Slightly rounder, fuller cheeks, but still breathtakingly handsome, if not more.

"They look good on you," Steve said truthfully, and there it was. First doubt, then hesitation, and finally hurt, all reflected in the brown eyes. "You always had a great sense of style," Steve continued, trying to get Tony's mind off the obvious.

Tony seemed a little placated by that and gave a small giggle, beautiful and high pitched and awkward and wonderful. "I am glad it had rubbed off on you," he laughed, pointing in Steve's general direction, "you finally traded your khakis and plaid shirts for something fetching."

"Oh, come on," Steve said with an easy smile, taking the jab like a pro, "it was comfortable."

Tony kept the smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners and sparkling in an amused way. This suited him so much more and it made Steve's heart grow until he realized that once he was the reason the brown eyes filled with tears.

"Here is your order."

A blond, smiley waitress showed up from nowhere, holding a tray in one arm.

"Thank you," Tony smiled at her, when she settled a cup of coffee in front of him, two packets of sugar on the side and an orange juice in front of Steve. "You don't mind I ordered for you too, right?"

"Actually, could I see the menu?" Steve asked the waitress and she nodded and walked away, while Steve turned back to Tony with a smile. "I didn't have time to eat breakfast today."

"You didn't?" Tony asked, reaching for his coffee and his hand stopping halfway out of shock. Steve had pretty adamant rules and a precise morning routine, one that always included a healthy portion of oatmeal with sliced banana and raisins, maybe a breakfast muffin on the days he was in hurry and bacon and eggs on the lazy mornings, but breakfast was always a must and Steve never skipped it. "I don't recognize you, Steve," Tony teased, giving another playful jab, Steve was happy to receive.

Soon enough the smiley waitress brought the menu and Steve placed an order and Tony asked for a glass of sparkling water and a lemon wedge. That made Steve curious.

"You are not eating?" Steve asked, and Tony wrinkled his nose.

"Nah, I am good. Had a big breakfast," Tony replied, trying to sound casual. Steve nodded, wishing to believe that. He already knew that tone of voice, hearing it many times during the days when Tony's work was catching up on him and break for food was not an option. Steve felt it wasn't his place on lecturing Tony about healthy eating habits and that regular meals could actually help him lose the weight he seemed bothered with more efficiently than denying himself food. He had lost the right to say such things when he had signed the divorce papers.

"This should be punishable," Tony narrowed his eyes when the waitress had brought Steve's meal and his water, and Steve eagerly cut into the steak. Well done. "This poor cow didn't die for this."

"Hey, it is good," Steve grinned, cutting the piece of meat and sticking on the fork. Roasted potatoes, garden salad, and a steak. Typical early lunch.

"I almost forgot that you like your meat though as cardboard," Tony griped, sipping on his water. Everyone knew that the best way to cook steak was medium rare when the meat was still tender and juicy and melting, but not many knew that the best technique was reverse seared. By the crust on the meat, Tony could already tell if it was reverse-seared or pan-seared and Steve's steak was obviously pan-seared, which wasn't bad but was kept in the pan for way too long to reach Steve's preferred well-done degree of doneness.

Steve chewed on his steak, thinking that the steak was good, but he would rather bite into something else, something that was nice and juicy and warm and sitting in front of him. He didn't voice his thoughts and just cut off another piece.

"So. Are you still teaching?" Tony asked, giving Steve plenty of time to chew but also trying to engage him in a conversation.

"Nah, I quit, I am between jobs," Steve said lightly using the nice word for being jobless, pausing at Tony's terrified look. "It is fine," Steve assured with a smile. Since the divorce, Steve couldn't focus on anything and lost his drive. He had quitted with a heavy heart, but felt that it would be the best for him and his students, had some savings and while he didn't live a life of luxury it was enough to keep him afloat. "I actually got a few job offers, just testing the market," Steve joked, meaning the parents of the kids he had taught beating down his door to sign their kids for private lessons - Steve was good at his job as an art teacher and kids loved him, and all of his students managed to get into the best art schools. While Steve didn't feel like going back to public schools, maybe private tutoring would be the answer.

"I see," Tony nodded, rubbing his chin. He was self-employed, build his company from a scratch and couldn't imagine being in Steve's situation who seemed so at ease. It was another reason they argued so much, Tony was never able to fully cut off from work, while Steve had clear boundaries, and their first shared vacation ended in a massive quarrel after a couple of blissful days. "I am glad this suits you," Tony said, not urging Steve to changes, knowing that it wasn't his place.

"Thanks," Steve smiled, finishing his lunch, while the conversation between them became so easy and natural, almost as if they never broke up. Steve continued to talk and joke, and take in Tony's smile until his plate became empty, marking the end of their meeting. And Steve was desperate to keep Tony for a bit longer. "Hey, I think I saw chocolate fudge cake on the special's board outside the cafe, do you want a slice?" Steve asked, putting his fork and knife down.

Tony looked away, curling a bit in himself. "No, thanks," he said and his voice sounded small, the confidence he had in himself a minute ago already gone.

Steve blinked in shock. Okay, he could understand Tony not wanting a proper meal, but the Tony he knew, never refused desserts, especially ones dripping with chocolate.

"Uhm, that's new," Steve laughed a bit, trying to bring the happy atmosphere back. "You always loved desserts. You even had this rule, that if a restaurant doesn't serve desserts, you won't be eating there."

"I guess, people, change," Tony answered in a deep sigh, and Steve didn't notice the warning undertone the words had.

"What was the other rule?" Steve asked himself, falling back into comfortable memories and not noticing the alarm signals. "Ah, yeah, remember when we went to that hipster coffee place and the waitress asked you if we want to order mini cheesecakes for dessert? Man, I thought you would flip a table back then. I guess this is also the reason why on Halloween you always give the kids full-size candy bars-"

Tony clearly didn't want to listen to any more of the story, his jaws clenching nervously. "I should go," Tony said in a cold and firm voice and pushed his chair to the back, reaching for his wallet to pay for his coffee and water. It suddenly became so tense and nervous, Steve started to panic.

"Wait, Tony, was it something I said - "

"This was a mistake, Steve," Tony said, a shaking hand dropping some bills on the table between them. "Look, I am happy for you and I wish you well, but for me - for us, we can't meet again," Tony added, his nose scrunching in a sniffle that hinted on an upcoming crying wave after the anger was gone.

Steve immediately felt like breaking into pieces. He did it again. He got a second chance to fix things with Tony and he was blowing it again. Steve bit his tongue, almost letting a comforting 'sweetheart' slip out from his lips, but he couldn't stop the long-forgotten gestures and reached for Tony's hand, putting his hand on Tony's shaky wrist. Tony's whole body tensed but he didn't move away, not daring to look at Steve.

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up," Steve said quietly, holding Tony's wrist firmer, grounding him back in the moment instead of their shared, carefree memories when both were so happy, "Stay. Please," Steve continued. The memory of the last day he had seen Tony, the day they both signed the divorce papers was still fresh in his mind, the way Tony couldn't bear to look at him, and the cold and empty feeling of that day still haunting him. There was probably no divorce that ended on good terms, but if this was supposed to be their last meeting, Steve didn't want Tony to rush out, wounds they both worked so hard to patch up, opening again.

Tony didn't answer. Somehow he lied to himself that meeting with his ex would be cathartic. It wasn't. They were venturing into very dangerous territory and Tony was afraid that there was no going back.

With time, Steve moved his hand away, reading Tony's silence as a signal to leave. There was nothing more to save here. Slowly, Steve stood up, understanding that it was over.

"Steve," Tony finally spoke, his voice shaking with emotions, "don't go," he said, not really knowing why, and Steve nearly didn't hear him among the usual cafeteria chatter. There was something hidden in the voice, some longing and a whole lot of heartbreak. "I don't want you to go. I never wanted you to go," Tony admitted, his voice breaking. He brought his hand up and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to hide the building up tears.

Steve stood there, his body frozen, while a million thoughts were racing in his mind. Tony was crying. He made Tony cry. He did this. It was a desperate need to reach out, to wrap arms around his husband and tell him, that he wasn't going anywhere, that he would stay this time, not take the keys to his bike and ride around New York for the whole night without a cause, just letting the anger leave him.

The truth hit Steve hard. Did he just call Tony his husband again?

A tearful sob shook him a little. Tony was standing in front of him, shoulders shaking with every ragged breath. It was a miserable sight and Steve was going crazy with an overwhelming need to soothe his ex-husband, to ease his pain and to kiss the doubts away.

The place was getting crowded for lunch and Steve didn't feel like staying anymore, not when he and Tony started to open up.

"Let's go for a walk," Steve decided for both of them, hurriedly leaving money for his part of the bill. He reached for Tony's hand and walked out, his heart beating a happy melody when Tony followed.

They didn't talk. Just kept walking at a slow pace, Steve thinking that it would be best to let Tony's emotions cool down instead of trying to pry. They didn't walk far, when Tony abruptly stopped, Steve's hand almost breaking the hold, when Tony held him back, interlacing their fingers. Steve didn't understand why they stopped until he saw in front of what building they were standing.

"Tony… Are you sure?" Steve asked softly.

"This won't mean anything, got it?" Tony said in a shaking voice, needing to make it clear from the start.

With the highest effort, Steve had to stop himself from smiling, a hopeful feeling rising in him. It was fine, right? They both were adults and adult people slept with each other, no strings attached. Heck, adult people hooked up with their exes all the time, just for old time's sake, right? It was just what Tony and Steve were about to do.

"Got it," Steve confirmed.

They both entered the hotel, well aware that it was a lie and it meant everything.

***

"Steve, you moron, pick up your phone," Bucky seethed, trying to reach Steve's mobile, time after time, not having any luck and being sent to voice mail straight away. Since yesterday, since Steve was his ex-husbands at the store and ran out after him, coming back with a dopey, elated smile, Bucky had a bad feeling, despite Steve assuring him that everything was fine. Steve not picking up his phone, was just confirming it. Time for plan B. Bucky made sure that Sam was still in the kitchen, preparing lunch when he sneaked into their bedroom and unplugged Sam's phone from the charger. He dialed the number of the last person he wished to ask for help, but drastic times call for drastic measures.

"It is not Sam, it is me. Don't hang up! Do you know where Tony is? Are you sure? I can't reach Steve. Yeah. I think so. Woah, you kiss your mom with that mouth? Hey, I don't like this situation as much as you - yeah, I will check there. I am going to call you from my regular number next time, so you better pick it up," Bucky said and hung up. He plugged the phone back in and went to the corridor to grab his jacket and shoes.

"Babe! I need to go out for a minute!"

"What? Where? Lunch is almost done!"

"Will be back soon, love you!"

"James, what the hell - " but Sam already heard the door close. Sam just grunted to himself, lowering the heat under the pot with stew to keep it warm and wait for his husband to come back.

-----

<--- previous chapter --- next chapter --->

#stony #steve rogers #tony stark #SUPERHUSBANDS #chubby!tony #weight acceptance #body acceptance #winterfalcon #Bucky Barnes #sam wilson #james rhodey rhodes #tony and rhodey brootp #steve and bucky brootp #fanfiction #fanfic #no tickling

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dvp95 · 5 years

Text

can’t breathe when you touch my sleeve - chapter 7

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

rating: e (eventually)

warnings: none

tags: alternate universe, slow burn, fluff & humour, tiny bit of inner turmoil wrt sexuality but trust me it’s not that deep, eventual smut, idiots in love

word count: 5,009 for this chapter (30,147 total)

summary: Dan keeps making a fool of himself in interviews, to the point where it’s basically a meme. Now he’s got to sit down for the better part of an hour and sell his show to the YouTuber he’d had a massive crush on when he was a teenager.

read from the beginning on ao3 or on tumblr!

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

quick question are you home

I am! Not for long tho. What's up?

Dan swears under his breath and hits the call button on his mobile, looking out the window so he doesn't have to feel the Uber driver's judgemental eyes on him.

"Hey!" Phil answers, bright and happy and god Dan is glad he's doing this.

"Hi," says Dan. He can't help the warmth in his own voice, the barely-suppressed enthusiasm at simply hearing Phil for the second time today. "Sorry I went radio silent for like an hour. I was actually on a plane."

There's a sound like a cupboard door closing, followed by the telltale pouring of either cereal or dog food. With Phil, it really could go either way.

"On a plane?" Phil asks. "Thought you were staying another night."

"I was supposed to," says Dan. His heart is pounding. He is only ten minutes from Phil's front door, if Phil wants him.

"Are you doing a bunk?" Phil laughs, the sound of it warming Dan from his ears to his toes. "Where did you go? Surely saying my name on the radio wasn't so awful that you had to flee the country?"

"It was," says Dan, barking a laugh of his own. "But, no, I'm... back in London. I'm practically round the corner, actually, if you wanna... grab dinner? Or something?"

What feels like an entire minute of silence follows Dan's awkward suggestion, but it's probably more like five seconds. It's enough time for his palms to start sweating, in any case. He's about to laugh and say 'gotcha!' and act like this was all a grand joke before going to a hotel to cry, when Phil responds.

"Oh, Dan," he says, apologetic, and Dan wonders how much he'd have to tip his Uber driver to plunge them both into the Thames.

"Sorry, it's stupid," says Dan. "I wasn't even -"

Phil interrupts him. "It's not stupid, don't be an idiot, I want to see you."

"Oh."

"Yeah," says Phil, "but I have dinner plans with my family. Mum and dad are flying out of Heathrow tomorrow for holiday and wanted to see us before they leave."

"Oh," Dan says again. He doesn't really see why that's an issue. Sure, they won't be able to Talk with a capital T or anything, but he still wants to see Phil so badly that it's going to give him a stomach ache. "Well, I can - I mean, if that's not too weird for you or whatever, I'd - if you want -"

"Are you going to finish one of those sentences?"

"Fuck off." Dan takes a deep, steadying breath. "What I'm saying is that I wouldn't mind meeting your family. Or I could just hang out with Thor until you get back, or whatever."

Another beat of silence, this one longer. Finally, Phil says, "You want to meet my family?", in such a skeptical tone of voice that Dan is offended despite not, in fact, being certain about it at all.

"Well, shit, I don't have to," says Dan, miffed. "You met mine, though."

"I met your coworkers, Dan."

"Yeah, and they're practically my family."

"This is literally my family," says Phil. He exhales, sounding for all the world like he's pinching his nose between his finger and thumb like an overdramatic librarian. "Dan, are you going to be a fucking brat if I say no?"

"Not if you don't really want me there," Dan mumbles. He's a little taken aback by how okay he is with Phil calling him a fucking brat. It hits him right on an edge of shame that could tumble way too easily into arousal if he were to let it.

Phil sighs again. "No, that's not it. I want you there. You wanna drop your stuff off at my place?"

"Yeah," Dan says sheepishly. "I'm almost there, just coming from the airport."

When Dan pulls up to the kerb outside the familiar row of narrow buildings, he sees Phil waiting for him with this resigned, amused sort of smile and his hands in his pockets. He's wearing a plaid shirt and a denim jacket with ripped jeans, looking for all the world like he's stepped out of a 90s grunge band.

He comes over to help Dan with his bags, laughing a bit. "You really came right here, huh? Hi."

"Told you I did," says Dan. On impulse, he wraps an arm around Phil's shoulders in a half-hug. He can smell Phil's cologne so strongly where his nose presses against Phil's neck, and it makes his head spin a bit. "Hi yourself."

It takes all of Dan's self control not to just kiss Phil here on the pavement in front of god and everyone, drag him downstairs by the lapels and make him forget everything that isn't Dan's name. It's very, very tempting, but Dan knows how much Phil loves his parents, how little they get to see each other, so. He pulls away from the hug without doing anything stupid and meets Phil's eyes with a little smile.

"Jaime and Patrick still in Dublin?" Phil asks, leading the way into his home and down the stairs.

The fact that his back is to Dan helps the ease of answering. "Yeah. I came back early because," he says, then pauses. "I missed London."

Phil grins over his shoulder as he gets the flat's door open. "London missed you."

Dan smiles back, wide and open. He's got no reason to hold back now. They don't have time to talk before they leave - Dan doesn't think he'll be able to go anywhere once he's allowed to put his hands on Phil - but that doesn't mean Dan can't already be obvious about why he's here.

The apartment is dimly lit tonight, all the candles blown out in anticipation of Phil leaving for a couple of hours and only a string of fairy lights and one lamp turned on.

Dan's luggage gets dropped unceremoniously in the entry, because both of them are suddenly busy with a very excited dog zooming around their ankles and threatening to trip them up. Dan laughs and sinks to the floor, letting Thor jump up on him and lick his face. He ends up flat on his back, again, giggling helplessly while Thor wiggles around on his chest.

"Why do you rile him up?" Phil asks, doing a very admirable job of sounding exasperated. His soft expression tells Dan how he's really feeling.

"He's cute," says Dan. He noses at one of Thor's ears. "And soft. And I like him."

"Seems like he feels the same way about you," says Phil.

"We're best friends, aren't we, Thor?" Dan coos, sitting up enough to shift Thor's weight to his lap. It's easier to give him pats like this. "Yes we are! We are! You're the cutest dog in the world!"

"That's true," says Phil. He crouches down beside them and scratches behind Thor's ear. His eyes meet Dan's, and they both smile.

This is exactly the kind of domestic fantasy Dan has decided to embrace. He holds himself back from leaning in for a kiss, but only because he knows they have places to be. It's nice to know that if he did lean forward, Phil would let him. He likes that calm certainty.

"Are we going somewhere nice?" Dan thinks to ask. "Should I change?"

"Nowhere fancy," says Phil. He reaches out and tugs at one of Dan's hoodie strings. "But maybe a different top layer, there."

"I don't want to dig through my shit," Dan says, totally aware of how obvious he's being. Whatever, Phil was worse about stealing his sweatpants. "Have you got something I could borrow?"

Phil rolls his eyes like he sees right through Dan and tugs at the other string, just to be a dick. "Yeah, alright, borrow. Sure. So if I can't find it next week, that's a coincidence?"

"I'm not responsible for you losing shit, mate."

"Fuck off," Phil says warmly. He stands up, wincing as his knees make a funny crick of a noise. "I'll be right back, but then we're leaving, okay? I don't want to be late. Get your puppy cuddles in now."

Dan grins down at Thor and gives him softer pats with both hands, trying to calm him down a bit. His fluffy fur is so soft and his ears are perked up so happily that Dan might actually start crying. He loves dogs, generally, and he loves this dog, specifically.

Kind of like how he likes London, generally, and this apartment, specifically. How he's into guys, generally. Phil, specifically.

Thor does calm down fairly easily once Dan stops matching his high energy. He rests his chin on Dan's thigh, half on Dan's lap and half on the floor, and just hangs out there until Phil comes back from the bedroom area of his flat. He's holding another denim jacket, something Dan doesn't even own but apparently Phil has several of.

"It's just from Topman," Phil says, grinning down at Dan and Thor. "But it's the only black jacket I've got that isn't, like, a blazer. Would you prefer a blazer?"

Dan snorts. "Absolutely not."

It hurts him a bit to dislodge Thor and stand up, but Thor happily trots back to his bed and starts gnawing on one of his toys. Phil grins wider and hands over the jacket, which isn't even black. It's a dark grey, distressed, and the collar is fuzzy. Dan is going to steal this for sure.

Dan tugs his hoodie off over his head and tosses it at Phil. He laughs at the affronted look on Phil's face.

"I'm not your butler," Phil says. He hangs the hoodie up next to Thor's leash, anyway. Dan likes the look of it there. "Are you ready? I'll get a car."

The jacket fits Dan well enough. When he glances at himself in the mirror by the door, he decides that he likes the way it looks on him, too. It doesn't smell like Phil, just some generic detergent, but Dan still likes it anyway. Besides, his Yeezy t-shirt still has the faint scent of Phil clinging desperately to it. Dan wonders what it would be like to live in a world where all his clothes smelled like Phil in some capacity.

"Yeah," he says, still looking at the easy way he fits in this jacket, this flat. "I'm ready."

"Did you warn your family that I'm coming?" Dan asks, coming to a sudden stop before they reach the door of the restaurant and taking Phil's wrist so he stops, too. If he's going to be a surprise tagalong, he ought to know.

Phil blinks, then smiles. "I texted them, yeah."

"And they're, like," says Dan, chewing on his lower lip, "okay with it?"

A quick, reassuring squeeze of Dan's hand before Phil pulls his own hand back. Dan imagines that he is all too aware that they're out on the pavement on a rather busy street. He likes to think that Phil would hold his hand properly if they were somewhere more private and comfortable.

"They're okay with it," Phil assures him. "You'll probably hate how okay with it they are once they start interrogating you."

"They're gonna interrogate me?"

"Probably, I don't really know." Phil stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks away from Dan, into the window of the restaurant. "I've never brought someone to meet them before."

Dan's heart skips a beat. Phil is so carefully not looking at him, his profile lit by the evening sun and streetlights, and Dan can't remember him ever needing to break eye contact to say something. Phil has been the calm, confident one since they met.

Maybe this means something to Phil that Dan hadn't considered. He swallows hard. "Hey. If this is - weird, or whatever, I don't need to be here."

"It's not weird to me," says Phil. "I'm happy to bring you, I just really didn't expect it from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dan asks.

Inviting himself to a family dinner just so he could spend more time with Phil was a bit cheeky of him, sure, but Dan doesn't know what the issue is, if Phil doesn't think it's weird.

Phil laughs softly, his eyes flickering back to Dan just for a moment. "You just keep... surprising me. You want me to tag you on Instagram, you want me to hang out with your friends, you want to meet my family. It's just not what I expected, I guess, since I know you're not, like, out."

"I - what?" Dan bleats, his blood rushing to his ears and making it harder to hear the surrounding din of London.

"It's fine," says Phil, misinterpreting the question. "I don't mind taking things slow, but we've been on, like, three and a half dates and you haven't kissed me, but you wanted to come tonight. You can see where I got surprised."

As soon as the initial shock settles, it hits Dan all at once: Phil thinks they've been dating this entire time. He thinks Dan wants to meet his parents as someone who he's been casually seeing, not as a friend who's been gathering the courage to push himself into something less platonic.

Dan has to bite back some hysterical laughter. Phil probably thinks he's the most frigid guy in the fucking world.

He's glad that Phil isn't looking at him, doesn't have to see the shellshocked confusion and inappropriate amusement that he knows is being broadcast across his face.

"Three and a half?" Dan repeats. His voice sounds far too high to his own ears.

"I don't really count drinking with your coworkers as a date," Phil laughs. He turns back to Dan, and Dan uses every ounce of his training to bring his expression back to something less telling. "No need to look so worried. My family's nice."

Dan is sure they are. He considers fleeing for half a second before he remembers that he wants to be with Phil.

He doesn't think this is a conversation that needs to happen on the pavement while people are waiting for them inside, so. He'll let Phil take the lead on the conversation and summon all the acting chops he has to make Phil's parents like him. Then, when they're alone again, Dan will be honest about the misunderstanding.

On the bright side, he can absolutely pitch this concept to a Netflix producer as an oblivious lesbian romantic comedy. He's just annoyed at himself for making him live it.

This is ridiculous. He is in a ridiculous situation right now. Before he follows Phil inside, he texts Jaime a quick, ok so im in a romcom after all and in a shocking twist of events im also very very stupid.

WHAT DID YOU DO

Dan doesn't reply, because he has to get into role now as someone who totally knew that the coffee and the Chinese food and the hungover vegging out were Dates.

Phil's parents do seem nice, which is something of a relief. His mum is a tiny whirlwind of cheer, giving Phil a hug and a few kisses to his pink face before she turns to Dan and exclaims, "You must be Daniel!"

She hugs him, too. It's an odd sensation for Dan, but he awkwardly pats her on the back. "Yeah, uh, hi. Sorry for crashing your party."

"Nonsense," she says, with such feeling that Dan actually believes her.

"Dan, these are my parents," Phil says unnecessarily, sliding into the booth across from a quiet man with Phil's smile. "Kath and Nigel."

"Nice to meet you, Dan," Nigel says, taking the name cue from Phil. He shakes Dan's hand when he sits down next to Phil. It makes Dan a little emotional, seeing these people genuinely pleased to meet him, even though he's a man.

"Daniel, sir," Dan corrects him politely. He gives Phil a sidelong look. "Only this one calls me Dan."

Phil just shrugs, looking a little smug.

"Your brother should be here soon," Kath says, looking over the drink menu. "Any idea if he's bringing Cornelia? I have a scarf to give back to her."

"You could always just give it to Martyn," Phil suggests. They both laugh.

"Yeah, alright, love, if I want it to get lost on the way."

Dan bites his lip and looks at his own menu. Phil is so comfortable with his parents in a way that he doesn't know if he could ever be with his own. Even if he were to let them into his life and they were to accept him for it, he thinks it might be too late for them to really bond.

Now's not the time for this crisis on top of the one he's already having, though. He tunes back into the conversation, which is still on the whereabouts of Phil's brother.

Nigel notices him looking up from the table and gives him a smile that's all Phil, reassuring and a little sheepish. "So, Daniel, tell us about yourself. Phil hasn't told us anything but your name."

"Must be ashamed of us," Kath sniffles, overdramatic, and Dan decides he likes her.

"I'm just not that interesting," Dan laughs.

A little scoff comes from beside Dan. "Shut up," says Phil. "Dad, Dan is one of the stars of that Netflix show Heatwave. He's just being modest."

"Oh, yes," says Nigel, a spark of recognition going off. "It's been in our list for a while, hasn't it, dear?"

"It has," Kath agrees. She beams at Dan in a way that radiates pride, and he almost can't look at her. It's too sincere, too open. He wants to hide away from it. "That's lovely, Daniel, you must work very hard."

Luckily, Dan is saved from having to think of something appropriate to say instead of just crying on her shoulder by the arrival of a lanky man.

"Budge up," he tells Dan. He's got the same air of familiarity that Kath had, that Phil had back when they met. It occurs to Dan that he's been chalking that up to Phil's media training, and the real answer may just be that this is the way he was raised to act. He already feels more comfortable here than he has at a table of his own family members for many, many years.

Dan scoots over, closer to Phil. Their thighs press together through their tight jeans, and Dan wonders if Phil can feel the heat radiating off him in waves. He kind of expects Phil to shuffle along the bench, too, but he stays where he is.

"Manners," Kath scolds as he folds himself into the booth beside Dan.

"Oh, right," says Martyn. He grins and offers a hand for Dan to shake. He has a loose grip, like he doesn't care to make a specific impression. Dan likes that, so used to too-firm handshakes and weird manly pats on the back from the people he interacts with at work. "Alright, mate?"

"Alright," says Dan. "I'm Daniel. You must be Martyn, unless you're Cornelia and another tall man is joining us."

"Don't think we can fit another around this table," Martyn says easily. "Nah, Corn's at home. She's feeling a bit ill, sends her love." The last part is directed to Kath and Nigel, who nod in eerie synchronicity.

"I'll have to give her scarf back on our way back," says Kath.

Their waitress arrives then, and Dan finds it entertaining to watch as three Lesters subtly compete to make her laugh while she takes everybody's drink order. He catches Nigel's eye and they exchange a small grin. Dan has never considered himself particularly quiet - he's more like the local class clown, no matter how old he gets - but he's content to sit back and let Phil and Martyn argue around him while Kath asks the waitress about her day.

She looks almost prepared for it when she turns to Dan, so he dimples up at her and says, "I like your nail polish."

"Thank you," she says, still smiling but looking more and more like she wishes she'd given this table to someone else. Dan takes pity on her, doesn't try to drag out the joke longer like he normally would.

"Wish I could pull off that colour," he adds, his heart pounding even though Phil's family probably won't judge him for it. "And, uh, I'll have a mojito, if that's okay?"

"If that's okay?" Phil murmurs into Dan's ear, making him shiver.

"Shut up," Dan whispers back, stepping on Phil's foot under the table. Phil kicks him back lightly.

"Absolutely vile," Martyn says in the sort of easy tone that comes from chirping people you love. He doesn't sound at all like he means it. Dan's shoulders tense anyway. Phil's grin flickers, like he notices.

"Shut up, Mar," Phil suggests, mildly enough that his parents can't reprimand him for it if they were the type to.

Martyn shrugs and starts talking to his mum about something that Dan can't follow, so he doesn't try to. Now that nobody is paying attention to them, Dan drops his hand to Phil's knee and squeezes. It's a thank you and a reassurance that he's fine, all in one.

With a small smile curling at the corners of his lips, Phil puts a hand over Dan's and leaves it there. His palm has got a very slight chill to it, like Phil is somehow cold despite being pressed against Dan in the corner of a booth.

They're practically holding hands. Dan turns his own hand over and links their fingers together in a fit of desire to say that he is holding Phil's hand. Dan is holding a man's hand under a table in public, with that man's family chatting around them, and his heart is fucking pounding like he's trying to run a marathon. He hopes his palm isn't sweaty.

If it is, Phil shows no inclinations of pulling his hand back anyway.

As the evening goes on, Dan finds himself relaxing more and more. The Lesters are warm and funny people to be around, talking over each other comfortably and doing their best to include Dan in jokes. The food is good, too, which is always a core part of Dan's happiness.

But the fact that Phil hasn't let go of his hand this whole time is really what's making Dan feel at peace. Their dominant hands are free to eat with, so they just... don't pull away.

Dan has a silly thought, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he always wants to eat on Phil's left. The mental image of them trying to be pressed this close together on their dominant sides, elbows knocking while they try to eat, is enough to make Dan swallow a giggle.

Phil's family don't ask him too many questions, but Dan finds himself offering the information anyway. He finds that he wants to impress them, make them think that maybe he's good enough for their son.

"I went to uni in Manchester," he says when Nigel says he misses the city sometimes. "I - didn't finish, I moved to Chicago."

"That's quite a long way to move," says Kath. "Whatever drew you there, love?"

For a moment, Dan thinks about lying. Surely Phil's parents would like him more if he was responsible, followed a job or even a relationship to America, but Phil is looking at him so curiously that he has to tell them the truth.

"I wanted to pursue acting in America," says Dan. "And a friend in Chicago said I could stay in their spare room. Then they rented out the spare room before I got there and neglected to tell me, and I ended up couchsurfing for a bit until I could afford to go to L.A., which sucked."

"That's impressive, actually," Martyn says around a mouthful of pasta.

"Manners," Kath scolds again, reaching across the table to swat lightly at Martyn's wrist. She gives Dan a warm smile. "He's right, Daniel, that was very brave of you."

It hadn't felt brave or impressive while it was happening. Dan's early twenties had felt like he was constantly on the edge of a cliff and he was just trying to dig his nails in and pull himself up. The long bouts of depression didn't make it any easier, since Dan would end up isolating himself, not showing up to work, or doing stupid shit just to feel something.

Things didn't change for him in an instant. He didn't find overnight fame or anything like that. After years of staying on that cliff with small parts and long nights, he got lucky with a Netflix gig three years ago.

Still, he supposes it sounds impressive to people who don't know the full story, and it's certainly something to be proud of in any case. Broke on a stranger's sofa in a foreign country to doing a worldwide press tour in less than a decade isn't something Dan takes for granted.

Dan shrugs instead of voicing his internal thoughts, smiling a little. "I miss Manchester too, sometimes, and I was only there for a year. I can't imagine how y'all feel."

"We do miss it occasionally," Nigel says. "But we like where we are now, don't we, dear?"

"Oh, it's perfect for us," says Kath, beaming at him with such obvious affection that it makes Dan's heart clench. He can't remember his mum ever looking at his dad like that. "And so beautiful, too! You should see it in the winter, Daniel."

"The Isle of Man, right?" Dan asks for clarification, and he smiles when the table agrees in a chaotic overlap of each other.

"Mum's right, it's really pretty in the winter," says Phil. "I never want to leave after Christmas."

Martyn snorts. "Sure, it's the Manx views, not the mince pies."

"It can be both!"

"What do you do for Christmas, love?" Kath asks, and Dan startles a bit at the question. He's quiet for a beat too long, maybe, because Phil squeezes his hand and responds for him.

"Mum," he says, almost sounding embarrassed, "it's been two weeks, stop trying to invite him to holidays."

"Just thought I'd ask, Philip," says Kath. She's just as cheerful as she was at the beginning of the night, and Dan thinks her smile actually grows when he starts blushing. "It's not like you've ever introduced us to a boy before, we thought it must be rather serious."

Honestly, Dan would love it to be serious. But it hasn't even been the two weeks Phil thinks it's been. They aren't on the same page at all right now. Dan feels confident they'll get there, but he doesn't want Phil to feel put on the spot now.

He rubs his thumb over the back of Phil's hand in a comforting gesture and grins sheepishly. "Ah, that's my bad, Kath. I'm only in town til Sunday and didn't want to miss a minute, to be honest."

"Where d'you live?" Martyn asks, beautifully giving Dan an out from the Christmas topic.

"Atlanta," Phil answers for him. Dan wonders if Phil has always sounded so wistful when he says the name of Dan's city. The city that doesn't feel like home.

Martyn whistles low, through his teeth, and sympathetically says, "That sucks." It's that, more than anything, that makes Dan physically feel the ache of the Atlantic that's going to be between them. He leans a bit closer into Phil, like that'll help fill the gap that isn't there yet.

It does suck. Dan has finally figured out what he wants and who he wants it with, but his job is four thousand miles away.

Still, he knows what he wants. He knows that Phil, clearly, wants it too. That's a first step.

Dan is feeling warm and loose from the cocktails he'd had with dinner and the easy acceptance of Phil's family. He sways into Phil's personal space on the pavement while Phil waves down a taxi and murmurs, "We gotta talk when we get to your place."

"Okay," Phil says, slow. His brow is furrowed in confusion or anxiety or some combination of the two, and Dan longs to reach out and smooth the lines with his thumb.

He does remember where they are, though, and keeps his hands firmly in the pockets of his borrowed jacket.

The ride back to Phil's isn't very long, but it is quiet. Phil looks out his window the whole time, and Dan looks at Phil. He's so beautiful, it makes Dan's head spin that he could ever want the same thing as Dan.

Phil's family seemed to think Dan would be sticking around, in any case. Kath and Martyn both gave him hugs goodbye after they finished with Phil, and Nigel had squeezed his shoulder tightly in lieu of one. Dan can't believe how welcoming they were to the first man their son had ever brought home.

This certainty of how he feels, how he wants his life to go, is making Dan a bit stupid with bravery. He pulls out his phone and sends some very impulsive texts.

To Jaime, he says, nothing major im just stupid! we'll talk abt it when ur here. To his agent, he says, if HW is ending can we look for work that's in the uk? we should hear back from the producers soon. To his mum, he says, There's something I need to tell you and I don't know if you'll still want me to come over on Saturday. It's a long story, but. Basically I'm gay.

Dan's heart is in his throat. He turns off his phone before anyone can respond, refocusing on Phil's profile.

#phanfic #phanfiction #phan #dnp fic #can't breathe when you touch my sleeve #words words words

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we-get-it-youre-a-dor-a-ble · 5 years

Text

FYI, this is my first fanfic, so I legit have no idea about warnings ;-; If I missed any or if some of them aren’t TWs, please let me know

Characters: Roman, Logan, Patton, Virgil, Thomas, Deceit

Pairings: None

Word Count: 2780

Genre: Angst & some fluff

Warnings: Bullying, swears, Deceit (sympathetic but oh well), muteness, just a little self-deprication, swords, yelling, crying, blacking out, violence

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

If Virgil could redo one thing in his life, it was how he met the other sides.

Thomas was 7 years old. He had a test at the end of the year in math, even though he was only in 3rd grade. It was a lot to handle, but with Logan’s help, Thomas was able to study enough. The day of the test, Thomas sat as his desk and stared down at his paper.

Suddenly, he panicked. He couldn’t remember anything. He didn’t know how, but something was happening and it wasn’t good. All the equation she had learned he couldn’t remember, and he started to feel something he rarely even thought of: stress. He stared down at the page in front of him, but he could barely make out words. Roman, present at the time, quickly gave Thomas the idea to go to the bathroom and think everything over, which Thomas did. The second he got there, he closed his eyes and went to Logan’s room .

“LOGIC?!” He screamed.

Logan was going over the math textbook he had been studying the few days before. “Thomas? What happened out there? Don’t you remember the curriculum?”

“I don’t know! I’m really scared and nervous… why have I never felt this stressed before?”

“I’m… not sure. Maybe we can get Morality to cheer you up. Morality!”

Logan called, but he got no response. “Morality...?” He called again. “Well then, we have to do something, with or without Dad. Let’s review the facts and details for the test.” Thomas and Logan nodded and got to work.

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

Once Thomas got home from school, he looked around to make sure his family wasn’t home. Thankful they weren’t, he bolted to his room and shut the door. Suddenly, Logan and Roman appeared.

“What… What was that?” Roman asked, also confused of the cause of such negative emotion.

“I’m not sure,” Thomas responded, “but we should ask Dad. He’s in charge of most of my feelings anyway. Morality!”

Once again, no response. “Maybe he’s in his room with the door shut?” Roman suggested.

“No, he always leaves it open for us. Where else could he be where he can’t hear us…?”

Everyone sat thinking for a moment. After what seemed like ages, Logan broke the silence. “Could he be in the Mindscape?”

And with that, everyone had sunk out into the Mindscape. It was darker than usual, but thankfully, Patton was kneeled down on the floor next to something. Once he noticed the three behind him, Patton stood, hiding the dark figure behind his back.

“Morality! There you are! Where have you been?” Logan asked.

“I’ve been here for a few hours now, sorry kiddos.” Patton apologized. By this point, everyone‘s attention has drifted off from their anger and to the small character behind him.

“What is that, Padre?” Roman said.

“Okay, so during school, I found this little guy curled up in the corner, sobbing. So please, don’t harass him. He’s really shy, okay?”

Everyone nodded, and Patton motioned for the figure behind him to come out. It hesitated, but stepped forward, showing its full self to the other sides. He was shorter than the rest of them, but he still had the same appearance. He wore a black oversized hoodie with a black and grey plaid pattern on the sleeves. He also wore a pair of dark jeans and sneakers. His hair looked to be the same as Thomas’s, but it was hard to tell by the good that covered his head. His eyes were the same deep brown as Thomas’s, but there was heavy bags under his eyes. It looked like he hadn’t even heard of the word ‘sleep’.

“Everyone, meet Thomas’s anxiety.”

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

Years had passed, and Virgil still didn’t talk. He was still very close with Patton, but he slowly warmed up to the other sides. Roman had been the most stubborn with Virgil, since he didn’t know anything about him. Logan was okay with Virgil being present; even a little happy that someone else understood him. In the end, though, no matter how everyone treated Virgil, he still wouldn’t talk. The sides hadn’t heard him say a single word since he arrived 5 years ago. Nobody even knew his name, what he sounded like, or if he could talk at all. Virgil would write notes to communicate, which he ended up getting pretty good at. He put his writing skills to use and filled most of his time writing short stories and such.

In the real world, Thomas was watching TV, so the Sides took the opportunity to have lunch together. They normally would invite Thomas, but he didn’t know any of them had names, and it was annoying to use their representations to address them.

“Kiddos! Time for lunch! I made tacos!” Patton yelled. One by one, the sides arrived, Virgil being last as usual.

“Spectacular!” Roman exclaimed. “Also, I’ve been thinking, maybe we should have Thomas take Spanish in middle school! It would be exciting to learn one of the most romantic languages in the world!”

“Roman, that’s preposterous. He shouldn’t learn a language solely because it’s romantic. It should actually mean something to him.” Logan stated.

Virgil rolled his eyes as the two started arguing. He made himself a taco, wrapped it, and grabbed a seat next to Patton. Virgil was happy that they could have a family dinner, since he had been so worried about an upcoming audition recently for the local kids theater. Roman had been so intent on going that none of the other sides really had a say in the matter. But the lines were so complicated, the audition was coming up so fast, and—

“Hey, you doing alright, kiddo?” Patton asked carefully. Virgil had stopped eating for quite some time to ponder over the audition.

Virgil took out his notebook. ‘Yeah, just worried (as usual)’, he wrote.

“What’s bothering you?”

“The audition for Beauty and the Beast…”

“The audition?” Patton repeated. Roman stopped talking and focused on Virgil. “You don’t have to worry! Roman has it all under control!”

“Yeah, but what if we don’t get the beast’s role? What if we’re just Maurice or something minor? What if we’re just a background singer??”

“Our part doesn’t matter, just as long as we make it in the show.”

“Well what if we don’t? What if we screw it up?”

“We aren’t going to mess up, kiddo. We have Roman on our side! Right Ro?”

Roman glared at Virgil as his gaze intensified. “Yeah, I’ve got it all under control, emo nightmare. Relax a little.”

Virgil sunk down in his chair a little and finished eating. He then got up, cleared his plate, and went to his room. Once he got there, he shuffled through his closet for another hoodie, since he had gotten some ground beef on it during lunch. He found a black sweatshirt with purple strings and put it on. It was simple, but still comfy as hell. He sat there, looking up at the plastic stars on the ceiling (a present from Patton).

His moment of relaxation was interrupted by 3 loud bangs on the door. Virgil stiffened and hesitantly shuffled across the fuzzy carpet. He opened it just a crack when Roman threw it the rest of the way himself. Roman has his sword tucked away in its scabbard, which only meant trouble.

“Okay, listen Anxiety,” he started. “This show is going to be big. Very big. And after your little pep talk with Patton, I have a good feeling your going to screw up my audition. So how about this: You take the day off or something so I can make sure that the biggest chance in Thomas’s life isn’t ruined by some virus like you.”

Virgil didn’t know what to do. He knew Roman didn’t like him, but to say it to his face…

“Well, nightmare? What are you going to do?”

Virgil backed up and fell onto his bed, eyes already forming tears. He grabbed the sleeves on his hoodie and hid his face in them. Roman, taking this as Virgil ignoring him, grabbed the hoodie and pulls it off. Roman then threw it on the ground and drew his sword. Just by reading his face, Virgil could see the anger welling up inside him. Suddenly, he cracked. He started swinging at the sweatshirt, making Virgil cry even more. So many rips and tears throughout the hoodie; he even cut off the entire right sleeve. At this point, Virgil was just sulking on the floor. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe, and every time the blade swung, he could feel the wind created from the blow against his shirt.

...He could say something. If he said something, anything, Roman might be distracted enough for Virgil to run. He could run to Patton, Thomas, even Logan. Virgil curled into a small ball on the floor and struggled to get words to come out. Just as he was about to, another dark figure stepped into the room. Virgil’s watery eyes couldn’t make out who it was, but they were able to quickly grab Roman’s sword and shove Roman out of the room. The figure sighed and turned towards Virgil.

The stress and panic was getting to his brain, and Virgil could already feel himself losing consciousness, so he used his last bit of strength to wipe the tears from his eyes. The figure, a bit clearer now, started walking towards him when everything went black.

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

When Virgil awoke, he was in his room on his bed. Everything looked normal, except the room was actually clean. The black figure was sitting on the floor next to his bed, eyes closed. His back was to the bed and his hair was covered by a black bowler hat. Virgil, now being able to see, gasped. The person’s face was half scaled, like a snake. He wore all black with touches of yellow and a bowler hat to match. The person opened his eyes and looked at Virgil.

“Oh, you’re finally awake.” He said, smiling. “Who might you be?”

Virgil shied away from him, shuffling quickly into the far corner of his bed against the wall.

“Not much of a talker, huh? Well, you can call me Deceit. And yeah, I am what the name implies. Just don’t tell Thomas about me, okay?”

Virgil gave a slow nod, already feeling more comfortable around him.

“Now, considering what I’ve heard, you’re Anxiety, right? Does this ‘Anxiety’ have a name?”

Virgil reached across his nightstand for his notebook. “My name is Virgil. Just don’t tell the others.”

“Hey, I’m not the only one with a secret. Good to know!”

The two gave each other a warm smile. Virgil didn’t know how, but he felt more at home with this stranger. He even had the courage to tell him his name. There was just something different about him. It was almost like he could see himself inside him. Someone who was lost, cast away, and just wanted a friend.

Just then, pounding steps came down the hall, followed by Patton aggressively opening the door.

“IS MY SON OKAY DECEIT???” He screamed, panting.

“Yes, Patton, he’s fine.”

“Are you doing that thing where you lie again?”

“Okay, I have told you guys over and over again, I don’t always lie.”

“Okay, sorry, D.” He turned to Virgil and sat on his bed. “What happened, kiddo?”

Virgil, already fighting back tears, grabbed his notebook and started writing. It took him awhile, but Patton was patient.

“Well, Roman came in my room after lunch. He was mad at me and told me not to screw things up. Then he got angry and tore up my sweater. I blacked out just as Deceit came in and stopped him.”

Patton was shocked. He could barely move. His eyes were wider than Virgil had ever seen, and his heartwarming smile was long gone.

“...L-Logan..!” He weakly yelled.

Logan quickly entered the doorway. “Yes Patton? Is Anxiety healthy?”

“H-he’s fine… look at this—“

Logan read through the note. His expression quickly matched Patton’s, and he turned to Virgil.

“I… I can’t believe this. I am so sorry, Anxiety. Truly, I am.”

“What are we going to do?” Patton asked.

“Well we have to confront Roman.”

“But what if he lashes out at us too?”

“Patton, I— wait, are you being anxious?”

Patton looked down at himself. He looked at his hand, which was rubbing Virgil’s leg.

“S-sorry! I didn’t even realize what I was doing.” Patton quickly pulled his hand away, to Virgil’s disappointment. All he wanted was to be comforted, but he couldn’t even do that without messing something up.

“It’s fine. Should we get Roman now?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The two walked off, looking worryingly at each other, leaving Deceit and Virgil alone again. They glanced at each other before Deceit popped the question.

“Virgil… did he hurt you?”

Virgil didn’t know how to respond. I mean, he made him cry and pushed him around a little while taking off his sweatshirt. But he didn’t even know if Roman physically hurt him.

Virgil just shook his head.

“Okay, if you insist.”

Deceit got up and walked across the floor. He stooped down and picked up the torn and broken hoodie on the floor.

“Wow, he really wrecked this…” he mumbled. There were rips and tears on every side; even the hood. He bent down again and grabbed the right sleeve on the ground that had been completely cut off.

“I’m assuming you don’t want this anymore?” He asked, holding the hoodie for Virgil to see. Virgil was debating whether he should keep it or not, but before he could respond, Deceit threw it in the trash bin anyways.

“Hey, what time is it?” Virgil wrote.

Deceit read the note. “Oh, it’s around 9:00. You were out for awhile, Virge.”

“I think I’m going to try and rest.”

“Oh, okay. See you soon.”

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

Sometime in the night, Virgil woke up to the sound of rustling around in his room. He barely opened his eyes to see a figure sitting on the floor, hunched over something. Virgil sat up, careful not to make any noise and disrupt the strange person in his room. He silently got out of bed and finally saw Roman sitting criss cross on the floor. There was a small box next to him filled with different types of string and yarn. Virgil walked over to his nightstand, scribbled something on a paper airplane he made the day before, and threw it swiftly at Roman. It landed in front of him perfectly, so he picked it up and read it.

“Hey Princey, whatcha doing?”

The figure turned around to see a curious Virgil looking back down at him.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

Virgil sat down next to Roman with his notebook. “No, you’re fine.”

There was a short silence between them before Roman spoke. “Aren’t you mad at me?”

“I mean, yeah, but I’m just curious on what you’re doing in my room.”

“Oh… I…” Roman looked down at what was lying in his lap. Virgil could see it too now.

“Is that my hoodie from last night?”

Though it looked very different, Virgil still liked the design. There was dark purple plaid stitched into wherever the fabric was torn. The stitches were thick and white, and they held together the sweatshirt perfectly.

“I-I shouldn’t have lashed out at you, Anxiety. You’re new, quiet, and didn’t deserve what I did to you. So… I wanted to at least try to make up for it. I know you like purple, so I fixed this up for you…”

Virgil was star struck. It was perfect; anything he could dream of in a hoodie. He put it on, eyes sparkling. Roman noticed this and gave a small chuckle.

“I knew you’d like it.” He said, standing up and reaching out a hand to Virgil. “Here, let’s start fresh: Greetings! I am Prince Roman, and I take place as Thomas’s creativity. I apologize for anything I have done to you.”

Virgil, hesitant at first, grabbed Roman’s hand and stood. He grabbed his notebook and stared down at it. After a moment of silence, he threw the notebook down on the floor.

“H-Hey,” Virgil spoke with a shaking voice, “I am Anxiety, and I’m Thomas’s… well… Anxiety. I forgive you, Roman.”

Before he could even look up to see Roman’s reaction to his voice, he was pulled into a tight hug. Slowly, he hugged him back, and within minutes, the two were sitting up against the side of Virgil’s bed, sound asleep.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fic #thomas sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #ts fanfic #ts fic #ts fanfiction #angst #fluff

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whenthedayisdone · 4 years

Note

3 random facts. Do you wish you had siblings (i dont think youve mentioned if u do or not, if u do do you wish you didnt lol)? Top 5 movies that makes you cry and why. Top 13 (lol) taylor lyrics (or less)(or more) (just ur favorites however many there are)

1. I tend to keep the lights off a lot. I just find lights so annoying on my quiet times. Lmao

2. I sleep with socks on on summer sometimes bc I can't for the life of me sleep with my feet uncovered. So I figure that socks on them are better than trying to control a blanket to only cover my feet without covering anything else and without falling off the bed. Lmao

3. I HATE horror movies. 6th Sense was so traumatizing as a kid. 🙊

I have siblings. 6 of them bc according to my parents, WHY NOT??

As a kid, I remember wishing I was an only child a few times. But now, as an adult, I don't anymore. We have the best times together. We're all mostly grown ups now and handling each other now isn't the same as handling each other before our empathic systems were developed, which essentially, made us all a bunch of psychopaths running around and having fun one minute but pulling each other's hairs the next. Lmao

I'll edit it bc Tumblr hates me. Hold on.

Top 5 movies

1. Marley & Me. I watched this movie a week after my dog died. Obviously I'm a horrible decision maker and OH MY WHY DIDN'T ANYONE STOP ME???

2. The good dinosaur. I cried and it's embarrassing and that's that.

3. Before you. Like, I normally don't cry. But I don't know. I was overly sensitive. Haha

4. Titanic. The first time a main role guy ever died on me. I thought they were forever and then... Gone.

5. My girl. I cried as a kid and I still cry now. Jeez. which is why I don't watch it anymore. Ain't nobody got time for that. Lmao

Top 13 lyrics (13? Taylor, is that you? Lmao)

You need to give a few minutes to think up this one. Hold on.

Here it goes in no particular order. I'm just looking up my playlist on Spotify and remembering the lyrics of the songs as they come up.

1. I bet it never ever occurred to you that I can't say 'hello' to you and risk another goodbye – I almost do

[...]

I just wanna tell you it takes EVERYTHING in me not call you. I wish I could run to you and I hope you know that everytime I don't, I almost do. - I almost do

2. People like you always want back the love they gave away.

[...]

I've been picking up the pieces of the mess you made.

People like you always want back the love they pushed aside.

But people like me are gone forever when you say goodbye.

[...]

You were all I wanted... But not like this. - All you had to do was stay

3. I jump from the train, I ride off alone. I never grew up, it's getting so old. – The Archer

4. And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me. And at every table, I'll save you seat, Lover. - Lover

5. Maybe we got lost in translation. Maybe I asked for too much, but maybe this thing was a masterpiece till you tore it all up.

[...]

You call me up again just to break me like a promise. So casually cruel in the name of being honest.

[...]

Time won't fly. It's like I'm paralyzed by it. I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still tryna find it. After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own. Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone. - All too well

6. The drought was the very worst. When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst. - Clean

7. And I know I make the same mistakes every time. Bridges burn, I never learn, at least I did one thing right.

[...]

I recall late November, holdin' my breath, slowly I said, "You don't need to save me. But would you run away with me?" Yes. - Call it what you want

8. Why'd I have to break what I love so much?

It's on your face, and I'm to blame, I need to say.

Hey. It's all me in my head.

I'm the one who burned us down. But it's not what I meant. Sorry that I hurt you.

I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you. I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you.

I need to say.

Hey It's all me, just don't go. Meet me in the afterglow. - Afterglow

9. Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep - King of my heart

10. Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine. You've ruined my life, by not being mine.

[...]

I feel like I might sink and drown and die. - Gorgeous

11. Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. - New year's day.

12. There is an indentation in the shape of you. Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo.

[...]

All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation. My hands are shaking from holding back from you.

All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting. My hands are shaking from holding back from all this.

[...]

Say my name and everything just stops. - Dress

13. If I bleed you'll be the last to know.

[...]

Said, "I'm fine", but it wasn't true. I don't wanna keep secrets. Just to keep you. - Cruel summer

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hnrywinchester · 5 years

Text

Fare Thee Well - - Chapter 9

Summary: She hasn’t seen Gabriel since he died nine years ago, then a phone call changes everything.

Pairing: Gabriel x OFC

Series Warning: ANGST, smut, swearing, character deaths, PTSD Gabriel, Canon Compliant

Beta’d by: @aquietuniverse

Words: 5.3k

Liv clung to the man in front of her, at this moment uncaring of the rift that had formed between them. Her chest pressed firmly into his back as her hands remained glued to his hips, and she could hear her breath coming out in panicked little rasps just barely over the pounding of her own heart. As she stared, her eyes grew wider as the bigger of the two walked into the room, the younger, smaller one on his heels, their faces angry as they stared at Gabriel. As the duo advanced, Gabriel’s arm constricted tighter into Liv’s body; he’d be damned if they laid one finger on her. “We’re here for the angel,” the taller one snarled, “and his whore.” As the men’s faces began to glow green, Liv pulled herself impossibly closer to Gabriel. They wanted her and him, they knew her, and they were not anything like anything she’d ever seen before. The overlay of a skull illuminated the older one’s face, as the other peered at his brother beside him with the outline of a horse extended down from his own head. “It’s okay,” Gabriel whispered to her, his lips barely moving as he began to back them up, “stay with me.” That wasn’t comforting in the slightest. Her feet shuffled backwards with his as Sam and Dean looked between each other, then back at Gabriel who had somehow already made his way back behind them. “The hell are you guys?” Dean asked, attention turning quickly to the inhuman pair before returning it to Gabriel, “The hell are these guys?” “Oh, just a couple of Norse Demi-Gods,” Gabriel responded, keeping his voice nonchalant as he kept his feet shuffling towards the closet at the side of the room. “Demi-Gods?!” Sam exclaimed before the two Norse brothers lunged at the hunters. The taller ran to Sam, the plaid-wearing to Dean and Gabriel quickly took advantage, whipping around and grabbing Liv by her waist to pull her into the closet. She could hear the fight ensuing, no doubt the bodies of her two friends being thrown around like rag dolls, crashing into furniture and walls, but all she could see was him. His face was centimeters away, golden eyes bearing into hers filled with concern as he assessed her current condition. When his hand came to rest on her cheek, gentle and warm, almost all of her anger was forgotten. “So many better things we could be doing in a closet,” he laughed, and reality came crashing back around her. “What are we doing? We need to help them!” Liv snapped, the groans and grunts of Sam and Dean pushing to the forefront of her thoughts. “We are hiding, because they will kill you, or worse…” “What’s worse than killing me?” “You don’t wanna know.” As Gabriel pulled himself away from her to peer out the crack in the door, she felt her ire returning. He was about to leave again, two Norse Demi-Gods were here tearing up a room looking for both of them, and he’d randomly showed up at their front door covered in blood. Not to mention, he still hadn’t addressed his leaving two weeks ago after making more empty promises. Although, she was pretty sure she was living the reason why right now, but it still left the door open as to why two gods were searching for him in the first place. She heard Dean call out for Gabriel, begging for help as they were losing their respective battles. “You owe me answers Gabriel!” she demanded, keeping her voice quiet but harsh. “I know I do! You’ll get them!” he hissed in response, his teeth grit together, “Just… stay here. Don’t move, don’t make a sound, don’t even breathe.” Gabriel crouched and grabbed something out of the massive briefcase he’d been carting around since he’d shown up and then quickly ran from their hiding place. Liv watched on from the confines of her sanctuary as Gabriel snuck his way behind the larger of the two and pushed a long wooden blade straight through his back, then shoved his body off of the sword and onto the floor. As the older one fell, the younger‘s eyes went wide, realizing he was now outnumbered, and Gabriel pulled a second katana from his belt loop. “Hiya handsome, you ready to die?” Gabriel insinuated, pointing the weapon straight towards his opponent. The horse-faced god ran from the room, and as soon as he was out of sight Gabriel keeled over in pain, groaning as he held his hand to his wound. Liv emerged slowly from the closet, her eyes staying locked on the angel, but this time she didn’t run to him. Being close to him was dangerous, it changed her mindset and clouded her judgement. When she could smell his familiar arid warmth and his eyes looked at her with that softness she knew was saved only for her, her resolve broke. Every time. She stayed close to Sam, using him effectively as a wall between herself and Gabriel, his eyes never straying from her. “You okay?” Dean asked, still out of breath. “Uh, yeah. I’ll go after him in a sec. I just… need a minute,” Gabriel responded, his voice once again hoarse with pain. “Wrong. You’re not goin’ anywhere. Liv?” Her heart broke as she reached into her back pocket, pulling out a pair of Enochian-etched handcuffs. She watched as his facial expression changed from physical discomfort, to betrayal. She wouldn’t lock him up. There was no way she would do that to him, knowing what he’d been through. “You don’t need those… come on,” he pleaded, holding his hands out in surrender to her. “Don’t I?” she faltered, harsh and cold. “Sweetheart… no.” Sam and Dean watched on as she approached him. She knew Dean wasn’t going to allow Gabriel to sit unrestrained, it was part of the deal. They needed his grace and they were willing to stop at nothing to get it, and she needed answers. When she came to stand in front of him, she felt that head cloud forming again. Even with a blood-soaked shirt, she wanted nothing more than to bury herself into his chest. Why she was so unrestrained and uncontrollable around him was always a mystery. It was like some piece of her deep down craved him constantly without cause or reason. She threw all common sense and caution to the wind as soon as he was within arms reach. Finally, the courage to look at him surged through her and she kept her gaze hard and unwavering. She wasn’t going to let him or her traitorous self-control win this one. He bowed his head as he willingly held a wrist out to her and his submission almost brought her to tears. She knew if anyone else had asked he would have fought it, which was why Dean was having her do the dirty work. He’d do anything she asked of him, he was already a goner when it came to her. Whether she believed it or not she owned him, wholly and unconditionally. He loved her with every shaking tendril of his diminished grace and he always would. When the metal cuffs clanged against the bars of the partition, successfully locking the archangel in place, Liv went to stand between the brothers, eyes unable to meet Gabriel’s. She knew it was wrong. She’d tried to talk Dean out of it, saying it would only anger him, possibly send him back into another depressive episode, but he didn’t care. None of this was about Gabriel or even her. It was about the mission. Always. The room was silent, the air heavy with words and thoughts unsaid. Gabriel wanted five minutes alone with Liv, that was it. He wanted to explain himself, he wanted her to trust him again, to want him again. She needed to know that everything had been for her. “Well, I guess we should take care of this,” Dean grunted, gesturing to the dead Demi-God at his feet, “Sammy? Can we just trust you two here alone together?” Gabriel and Liv’s eyes snapped up to Dean, “uh… yeah,” they answered in unison. “I don’t care what he promises, he stays on that bar, in those cuffs. Understand?” If there was one thing Liv didn’t take to, it was being ordered around. Gabriel smirked to himself as he saw her nostrils flare and her lips harden into a thin line. That was his girl. She said nothing, her only response a slow, enraged blink as she sat at the dining room table on the opposite end of the room as him. She needed to keep her distance. As the boys dragged the corpse from the room, leaving the pair alone, she felt her face grow hot. “So are we just gonna sit here awkwardly ‘til Rocky and Bullwinkle come back?” Gabriel scoffed, shifting his body to face her as much as he could, breaking the heavy silence that had settled between them once again. “Did you always know you were going to leave?” she asked, eyes still averted. “I have never wanted to leave you.” “Right…” “Why, do you think I did any of this to hurt you? Not everyone in the world is out to get you, Liv. Especially not me. I had to do this. For you. For me. For us.” Those words anchored deep into her stomach, the tears she’d been fighting finally spilling over. She tried to reason with herself to stay strong, to stick to the plan, but he didn’t hate her. That was what she was banking on, to make this that easy, clean break, but he didn’t. Clearly he still felt the same. “How many times have you just… left me?” she cried, his face growing angry at her question. “Twice! And oh, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the one where I’d be taking an extended, luxurious vacation in the shit-stained bowels of hell, so I may be gone until someone comes and pulls me from fucking Margaritaville!” he snapped, “I came to you, and told you I wasn’t dead, so you’d know I was coming back to you. I can’t help that I got taken to Paradise City against my will.” She knew he was right. If he’d never been roped into the Apocalypse, she had no doubt in her mind he never would have strayed from her side. He’d proven it, time and time again. Her anger wasn’t directed at him though. She knew she was using him as nothing more than the whipping post for her own self-loathing that had been crawling through her since the moment she got that phone call. “Why won’t you tell me what happened?” she asked softly, needing to know the answer. ”What happened in hell? Uh… that should be obvious,” he retorted, eyebrows furrowing. “Just tell me.” “No! Did you ever think for one eensy second that just maybe I don’t want you to know? That I don’t want you to picture me being…” Memories flooded his mind. He was an archangel. He was one of the most powerful beings to ever exist and he’d been reduced to nothing more than a juice box. Played like a fool, kept filthy in a box desperate for nothing more than a gentle touch, for her. He’d been turned to a desperate, quivering shell of what he was meant to be, of what he was. Sold off for a cheap buck and a laugh. “I sat there, for years, without putting up a fight,” he continued, his voice softer, “for you. To keep him from coming after you. I’m not dragging you down there myself when I gave everything to keep you safe.” This was far worse than she could have ever imagined. For you. It echoed against the walls of her skull, churning her stomach as her lungs began to close off. For you. She watched as his face fell into unease as her anxiety overtook her. His body jolted upright, the restraints holding him from doing what every cell in his body was screaming at him to do. Shaking her head, she jumped from her chair, running to the bathroom and slamming the door quickly before hanging her head over the sink. “Liv!” Gabriel hollered, anger coursing through him again as he pulled on the cuffs imprisoning him “Liv, are you okay?!” What did he say? He’d tiptoed around the subject for a reason, so as not to upset her just like this, but this was always the outcome. Every time he tried to protect her, to keep her safe, it always ended in tears. As he collapsed back into his chair, his head dropped in despair. Every good intention he’d ever had in the end, was always in vain. He never should have touched her, tainted her with this curse of knowing him, of loving him. She was silent in her hideaway, he couldn’t even tell if she was still in there. Intently, he listened for any sob, sniffle or cry, but he heard nothing. “Sweetheart?” he called gently, “Can you say something… please?” Her body was still trembling as she tried to regulate her breathing. Thoughts spun around her head, making her dizzy as she gripped the edges of the sink for stability. He’d subjected himself to all of that, for her. Whatever it was, that had turned him catatonic, that had ruined him, was her fault. She was the cause of his nightmares, panic-stricken responses to noises and fast movements, for the way he tried to hide in plain sight now. He’d lost himself to keep her safe. She wasn’t worth that. She never had been and especially not now. The years she spent without him had seemed like torture at the time, but now, this was worse. A gentle knock at the door startled her, it couldn’t be Gabriel… “Hey,” a soft, gruff voice greeted as someone slipped into the bathroom with her, “You okay?” Dean. She’d expected Gabriel to find a way out of those cuffs before seeing Dean coming in to check on her. Words evaded her as she stared at him, wishing that instead of green it was gold looking back at her, but relieved it was him nonetheless. “Dean, there’s… there’s something I need to…” she began, her voice shaking as she confessed to the one person she hoped may understand. Gabriel sat on the other side of that door still, his eyes hard as he waited for Dean to emerge, hopefully with Liv in tow. Sam stood near him, unsure of what to say but curious as to what had happened. The angel tried his hardest to hear any bits of the conversation but the two hunters were well-versed in hushed tones and keeping secrets. “What happened Gabriel?” Sam finally asked, his voice startling. “I don’t know,” Gabriel admitted, his exasperation very evident in his voice, “I…. told her that Asmodeus left her alone because I played along with his games downstairs and she freaked.” Sam’s face wrinkled in confusion. In his mind, that would elicit the opposite reaction, gratitude and love, not be cause to barricade yourself in the bathroom. He knew Gabriel was just as confused, his eyes still having never left the door separating him from her. Sam said nothing more, not wanting to upset him any further, the poor guy had been put through the ringer enough already it was a miracle he was even still standing. Tortured in hell for what Sam knew was hundreds of years, shoved back into reality and running off on a revenge mission all while he fought to win back what he figured, was the only thing in the universe he actually truly loved. That thing now locking herself away from him after learning that what’d he’d been through was all for her. None of it made any sense. Dean emerged moments later, Sam recognizing the look on his face immediately. Guilt. “Well?” Gabriel asked as Dean closed the door behind him, leaving Liv alone again. “She’s fine,” Dean lied, “needs another few minutes.” With a hand clasped firmly around her mouth, Liv stifled her sobs. Her eyes were clenched shut as she tried to shove the noises trying to escape back down her throat. Getting that off her chest had not helped, nor had Dean’s words, which had unintentionally only made it worse. She could hear the three of them talking on the other side of the door, she could tell the conversation was being dominated by Gabriel and she knew she was missing what she’d been so desperate to hear. His story. At the same time she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle it, not now. Would knowing ease the burden she’d been carrying? She owed it to him to know what happened, that she knew, she owed him far more than anything she’d ever be able to repay, but she had to start somewhere. “Well, Vegas odds had my bro pulling off a big win,” she heard Gabriel say as she slowly opened the door. “Yeah? And whose fault was that?” Dean replied as the three men came into her view, Gabriel’s eyes shooting over to her immediately. “Hey…” Gabriel cooed, his entire body softening as she entered the room. “Well, go on,” she urged, hovering closer to Dean than she normally ever would have, using him to hide from Gabriel’s concerned gaze. She listened silently as he retold bits and pieces of his capture. He’d been sold off by his former friends, the ones he was now running around killing, Loki and his sons. The real Loki. She recalled that night all those years ago, when he entered that room full of Pagan Gods as him, when Kali had outed him as Gabriel and shoved his own blade through his chest. After faking his death, he’d ran to them for aid once again, and they’d tricked him into false protection all to sell him off to Asmodeus. Now, he was on a mission to kill all four of them, and he was halfway there with no intention of stopping now. He’d tapped into his time in hell, again glossing over any details other than what they knew of the demon feeding off his grace, but the look in his eyes as he traveled back to those years was all Liv needed to see. Sam and Dean had agreed to help him finish this off in exchange for his help with their own mess and Gabriel had half-heartedly agreed. The three of them were still not sure if he would actually stick around when he was done, but what other choice did they have? “It’s not your fault,” Gabriel whispered to her as she stood beside him, unlocking him from his restraints, “Liv, it’s not your fault, I didn’t mean for it to… sound that way. Please look at me.” As she turned the key, popping the cuff open, her bottom lip quivered as her eyes snapped shut again. She couldn’t look at him, standing this close to him was reopening that hollow pit that had formed in her stomach less than an hour before. As he stood, his hand landed on her hip, and one tear escaped her eye, rolling lazily down her cheek. “I still meant what I said, before I… before I kinda lost it there. All of it,” he promised, pressing into her skin with his fingertips, holding onto any chance he had, “just tell me where and, we’re gone.” How many times could a broken thing break before it was irreparable? Her heart was heavy, his gentle touch and soft tone not helping the situation at all. This man loved her, there was no question or doubt, not anymore, but that brought her no solace. It should have, but now, it was only pain. She didn’t deserve him, she never had. She could feel the Winchesters gazes on them; Dean knew the truth, and he was the only one. She could picture his face, lips pursed, eyebrows furrowed as he awaited her response. What he was rooting for, she wasn’t sure. She needed air. Quickly, her feet carried her out of the room, Gabriel’s fingers lingering as long as they could until she was out of reach. He didn’t chase her, although he wanted to. Now wasn’t the time and this wasn’t the place, once Loki and Sleipnir had been taken out he’d figure out what had snapped in her head. Until then, it was complete the mission, all else came secondary. Yet, as he went into the bathroom to change back into his regular clothing, he knew his priorities were shifting. If he’d loved her any less he may have found it easier to stow her away, but this was different. It had always been different. The sun was shining as she flung the doors to the seedy motel, warming her skin, but that chill in her chest remained. She could see the Impala from where she stood and lying down in it’s back seat to think about everything that had happened in peace and solitude seemed like the best idea. Cursing herself for not deciding to just drive her own car, wishing she could hop in and take off never to be found again, she started towards the shiny, sleek classic thirty feet away. Gabriel and the Winchesters emerged from those same doors no more than ten minutes later. He was on edge, ready to end this fight and move on, make amends and prove to that little hot head that occupied his every waking thought that he was ready to be what she needed of him. His eyes scanned the lot, and when she was nowhere to be found his heart sank. Whipping his head from side to side, the brothers noticed his frantic change of mood and within seconds it clicked. Liv was gone. They shared a knowing look before taking off in opposite directions, checking behind every wall, car and door. Sam began calling her, each time no answer as Gabriel threw open the doors to the Impala, finding it empty. “No…” Gabriel muttered, “ no no no no no…Liv!” “She’s no where, won’t answer her phone,” Sam reported as the three met at the car, Gabriel running his hand through his hair panicked. “They got her.” “What do they want with her?” Dean asked, his naivety only irritating Gabriel further. “What do you think, hot shot? I’ve killed two of them!” The men then piled into the car, the wheels squealing as they took off in the direction of the Ophidian. Gabriel’s heart pounded, this was the one thing he was meant to avoid. Loki was never supposed to get his hands on her, Kali had warned him, and he knew. The things Loki would do with Gabriel’s small, fragile, downtrodden human were nothing pleasant. He needed to get there, and fast. Before she was lost forever. Liv groaned as she came to, her cheek rubbing up against something smooth and cool. It was soft, like she was lying on a bed, her head gently being cradled by a pillow. So now she was dead and this was heaven? A bed with satin sheets? She’d never laid on satin sheets at any point in her life, wasn’t heaven just a bunch of your favorite memories all played out? “The hell?” she muttered, pushing herself upright to sitting, her eyes finally adjusting to the light pouring into the room. This room was unfamiliar. It was swanky, far too rich for her blood even with Gabriel around. He’d always respected her love for the mundane. “Hello Olivia,” a smooth, deep voice rumbled from a couch on the opposite end of the room, foreign, yet with a hint of something she knew. “Who are you? And where the fuck am I?” she asked, that creeping feeling that something was very, very wrong dominating every other emotion. The man stood, slowly, almost predatorily and when he turned her eyes widened in terror. It was Gabriel, but it wasn’t. He was dressed in a striped vest and white button down complete with a tie, nothing her Gabriel would ever be caught dead in. Her Gabriel refused to even button a shirt up all the way, always said it was ‘suffocating’. He’d never voluntarily strangle himself with a tie. His face was all wrong, this one was arrogant, hard, self-assured. There were no smile lines, or sparkle in his eyes, there was no warmth in this man. His cheeks held no dimples, and his mouth seemed to be permanently stuck in a slightly down-turned grimace. This was not Gabriel, even with the same face he didn’t hold a candle to the real thing. “I know this must be… jarring for you,” the stranger taunted, monotoned and cold. “Who the fuck are you?” Liv barked, comforted by the cold metal of her gun still tucked safely into the waistband of her jeans. “Didn’t he tell you? This face you adore isn’t really his. I see you aren’t the only one keeping secrets.” A smirk crept onto the man’s face. This was Loki. This was the root of nine years of hell, for both herself and Gabriel. Rage bubbled in her chest as she glared at him, playing over every plan of action available to her as he approached. “We kept an eye on you, after disposing of Gabriel. I was shocked to say the least, and that doesn’t happen very often. You’re an interesting little thing you know, for a human,” Loki continued. “You know nothing about me,” Liv spat, sliding off the bed to her feet. Attacking would be far easier from here. “Oh on the contrary Miss Olivia, I do. Tell me, did you even want him back?” Before he could gain sturdy ground, Liv lunged, using all of her weight to knock the Demi-God backwards to the ground. As he fell, she followed, pulling her gun from her back and landing straddling his hips, the tip of her weapon pressed firmly against his throat. She knew this wasn’t going to kill him, silver bullets or not, but hopefully blowing his face off would at least slow him down enough for her to escape. “You know that won’t do anything to me, sweetheart,” he laughed, the name sounding like a curse as it fell from his lips. “Don’t call me that,” she demanded, cocking the pistol with her thumb. The response was nothing more than a chuckle, his hands coming to her thighs on either side of him. Slowly, he ran his hands up her legs to her waist, his touch seductive and eyes darkening with what appeared to be lust. “Well, I am seeing a little of the allure now,” Loki purred as the fingers of his right hand danced along her stomach, the other, digging into her hip where Gabriel’s had been an hour before. Liv’s finger shook on the trigger. This wasn’t Gabriel, but something in her brain had frozen her hand as she looked down at his face. His eyes were the same color, his hair tousled around his head on the floor beneath him just like Gabriel’s would be. She was so starved for the angel, that the Demi-God’s touch was almost as entrancing. She’d lingered too long. Before she could react, the man beneath her hoisted her up and slammed her into the wall, pinning her arms above her head by her wrists. The clang of her gun onto the floor as it fell echoed through the room as she grimaced in pain from the pressure on her upper limbs, Loki’s body pressing up against hers as close as he could get. “Now now, no need to get angry. Just answer my question. Did you want him back?” Loki implored, his breath hot on her cheek. “What’s it matter to you?” Liv snapped, trying to twist from his grasp to no avail. “It matters,” he breathed as he pressed her further into the wall, his free hand coming and pressing around her throat,”that weak, pathetic little archangel. Broken beyond repair, too far gone in his own self-antipathy to even be what you need him to be.” “Trying to get me to switch teams? Look, I know you have the same face and all but… let’s be honest. I don’t much compare to a horse. Bit too tight in all the right places, if you will.” “Hmm. You find yourself charming, do you? I have no use for a tiresome, apathetic human whore.” “So why am I here then? You know he’s coming either way. You don’t need me as bait.” “Because you’re going to tell him that secret you’ve been hiding. I’ll be sure of it. Nothing would please me more than watching that nuisance’s heart break right before I gut you in front of him. I may not be able to kill him, but I’ll mar him so deeply he’ll wish he was back in Hell.” Loki’s hand squeezed around her throat a little harder, she could feel the bruises that would be there when he released her, stifling her roar as she fought against his hold. She felt his breath along her neck as her feet kicked the air, trying desperately to land one, but failing. She was rendered completely powerless with no choice but to concede. Gabriel was fueled by his anger, but motivated by his love. When he snapped the lights out as he emerged from the elevator, it was as if he was no longer in control of his actions. He rushed Sleipnir, whirling him by the collar of his jacket throwing him easily to the ground. He’d always been weak, depending on his family to fight his battles as he danced and laughed to their dirty work. Gabriel was happy to put him out of his misery, but he’d be sure the little foal would be staring at his face as he did it. With another snap, the lights were back on, and the fear etched into his features gave Gabriel’s heart a little jumpstart. “Please…” the boy begged, his eyes wide. “Where is she?” Gabriel fumed, pressing the wooden blade a little harder into his stomach. “She’s with Father, she’s… she’s alive. But hurry.” “Did you take her?” The whimper that fell from the monster’s lips were all Gabriel needed to hear, and he plunged the katana through Loki’s last remaining son, one more piece of himself snapping back into place. As he pulled a rag from his pocket, he searched the area for Sam and Dean, ensuring they were also still safe after the fire fight they’d been caught in, but all he saw was Sam. “Dean? Dean! He left,” Sam was calling, searching for his brother. “Ah. Big bros right? Always think they know best,” Gabriel stated as he cleaned the blood from the katana, prepping himself for the big boss. “The penthouse. He went after Loki!” “No. No, Loki’s mine!” Gabriel took off, not caring if Sam was left in his dust as he ran to the top floor. Liv was there, with Loki, the two things he needed most in this world were waiting up a few more flights of stairs. He feared for what Loki had done to her, he was merciless and cruel, he would not have taken it easy on her. He also knew that Liv was never, ever one to lay down and obey, which no doubt would only have fueled Loki’s fire. Silently, he pleaded that she was still alive, unharmed and still herself. Loki had many tricks up his sleeves, and he wasn’t afraid to use them. “Liv!” Gabriel yelled as he rounded the corner from the stairwell into the hallway of the uppermost floor, his call to her instinctual as he hoped for the impossible of her there, waiting for him. “Hello, Gabriel,” a different, but still familiar voice greeted. Showtime.

TAGS: @idabbleincrazy @analisespn @nodistressdamsel

#gabriel x ofc #gabriel x oc #gabriel #gabriel fic #spn

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breg21 · 6 years

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The Ties that bind us Ch.1

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12840945/1/The-Ties-That-Bind-Us

Chapter 1! I'm so excited to get this story started! I now have a skeleton down; so I know what I basically wanna do with this story, I can't wait to write it all down! Anyway, please enjoy. Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom, Nickelodeon does.

HOWEVER, LILITH FENTON IS MINE HEHEHE.

Two years had passed. Spring poured into summer, summer had swirled into fall, and winter was now taking its harsh claim over Amity. As the seasons changed so did Team Phantom, which was now their official name. Now that Team Phantom was a renowned worldwide corporation, it allowed people to make ghost hunting to be their career, and people could start as young as fifteen with parental permission. It was now a more government-funded career, with classes taught by educated people that had to get a degree in the field.

It also gave students that wanted to go into ghost hunting a scholarship into college if they wanted something other than ghost fighting, depending on their rank, how invested they were, and what skills they built up over the years. It worked like a grading system; the better the grades, the more scholarships were offered. While there was a grading system in Ghost 101, it worked more on the physical aspects, like gym, and either you passed or failed.

Ghost 102 worked on more of the science of ghost hunting, and was graded like a normal academic class. They were taught how to outsmart a ghost, how to hide from a ghost, and a better understanding of how a ghost thinks for self preservation. The students had to learn how to get out of tough situations that they may get into if a ghost were to attack them.

Danielle wasn't sure how many high school and colleges offered the ghost hunting classes outside of her town, but in town there were three classes: One taught by her grandpa, one by grandma, and one by Valerie's dad, Damien Grey.

Her dad had changed the most, while he wasn't the bulkiest around he was starting to lose his lean build and was gaining muscle from ghost fighting. He kept his hair about the same, and he now towered over Dash at 6'4''. His crystal blue eyes, despite having seen so much horror and shit in his young eighteen years, had retained an understanding of happiness. He always said it was because of his family that he was so grounded in reality. He now wore a plain black t-shirt with his symbolic logo, and simple blue jeans.

She had also changed a little over the years. Her figure was now more refined at sixteen. However, not wanting too many eyes on her, she kept to her baggy hoodies, sweatpants and leggings, unless she was with Tucker, then she'd dress a little differently. Her eyes that matched those of her dad's stayed the same, and honestly so did everything else. She didn't need much of a change.

Her mom and Valerie stayed the same physically, other than filling out in the chest area a bit and gaining a couple inches in height. Valerie still was curvy, and her mom still had her straight figure, which always seemed to compliment her nicely.

Sam was also growing her hair out now; it was just past her shoulders. Her signature clothing hadn't changed much, except for a different deep purple plaid skirt with black lining instead of the green; she had also traded her purple tights for black ones that stopped just above mid-thigh.

Valerie now typically wore a crimson red sweater and black jeans. She preferred to cover up, trying to protect her skin as much as possible if a ghost were to unexpectedly attack, unlike Sam who didn't give a damn, her own words being "If I get a scratch, I get a scratch, I'm not going to worry about it," to which the huntress could only shrug in acceptance. To each their own.

Tucker had changed along with Danny, getting more bulk in his build. It was not as much as the halfa but it added to him, and - to Danielle's utter disgust - made girls chase after him constantly, to which she'd secretly fire an ecto-blast at the fawning girl's ass over her boyfriend. He stood strongly at 6'2'', which still made her have to stand on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. Switching up his own outfit, he now wore a light baby blue hoodie with the logo embedded on the front, dark blue jeans that matched nicely, and a multi-colored beret of green, red and yellow. He was in his last term as mayor.

As of right now, however, it didn't matter how many years had passed; Danielle was still sure that school was the embodiment of torture for teenagers. She had been out with Tucker last night, past curfew -which got her grounded- and she could feel her eyes start to droop. Drool started to pool in her mouth, threatening to spill over. History 2 was so boring, and Lancer hadn't changed over the years; his voice still put people to sleep.

"Ms. Fenton!" Her textbook slid from her desk, dropping to the floor, resounding with a loud thud. Bolting up, her eyes snapped open, sweeping the room, searching for danger. When she came back to reality, she saw her classmates staring back at her in laughter and amusement. Her only response was to shrink a little in her seat. What scared her most was the look of anger on her parents' face.

"Ms. Fenton, do I need to have a conference with your parents? If the cause is ghost fighting, I'd allow it, but seeing as your dad over here is quite awake, something tells me that isn't the case." The glances she received from both eighteen-year-olds told her she didn't want that.

"No, sorry sir." He turned back to his lesson.

"Now, as I was saying-"

Out of nowhere, the ceiling caved in.

Two ghosts - from what Team Phantom could tell, one being Skulker, and one unknown - were in hand-to-hand combat. Skulker, unfortunately, had the upper hand in the fight as they pushed against each other to gain control against the other. His bigger build seemed to tower over her.

The girl looked no older than sixteen. The weird thing about her though, was she had almost the same costume of Team Phantom, complete with the DP logo, sleek green, black, and white colors and all. She had a round baby face, thin lips pressed firmly together, with a narrow scrunched up nose as she fought off Skulker. Her waist length hair was snow white, much like Danny's in ghost form, and her amethyst eyes narrowed in concentration on her fight.

There was something else she noticed about this new girl. A medallion hung loosely around her neck, with the letters CW imprinted in the middle that stood for Clockwork.

Just great.

Time travel. Can't we have a normal month?

The girl's head turned to the side, piercing daggers at the team. "A little help here you guys?" She hissed through her teeth as she continued to struggle with the hunter.

The four broke into action. Valerie, Sam, and Tucker pulled bazookas from their backpacks, while Danny and Danielle changed forms, and all started striking the hunter with ectoblast after ectoblast. It was moments before he was easily contained in a Thermos.

The girl got up with the help of Danny. Rolling her shoulder, she groaned in anger and pain at discovering that her shoulder was dislocated.

"Thanks, dad." the halfa said.

Everyone but the four gasped in shock at hearing this girl call him dad.

'Wasn't Danielle his only daughter? How many clones did Masters create?' was the only thought from their fellow classmates.

Ignoring their shock, Danny continued as if it was nothing. "What's your name?" He came up to her, grabbing her shoulder, signaling that this was going to hurt, and she nodded in agreement, used to this by now.

"Lilith." she grit out between her teeth. He grabbed her forearm, placing one hand on her shoulder, and snaps it back into place.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm uncle Clockwork's apprentice. I'm from about twenty or so years into the future. Sometimes he has to send me to different times to test me so that I can learn to do things correctly. I don't exactly know why I'm here yet."

Oh, that made sense. Sorta.

"Wait," Sam cut in, placing her weapon back in her backpack and snapping the Thermos back onto her specter deflector belt. "I don't get it, why would Clockwork need an apprentice? He's the master of time. "

"Even the master of time needs a break too mom. Humans and ghosts are a pain to watch over constantly. And don't even get me started on the Observants." She shuddered at the thought of them.

"Okay." They all turned to the new nasally voice that enters the conversation; Mikey. "There's something I just don't get. Your daughter, from the future, just fell from the sky, and you act as if it's nothing. What made you so jaded that your future daughter coming here doesn't boggle your mind?"

In response, all fingers of the group, including that of her own, pointed to Danielle. "I was kinda the straw that broke the camel's back," She explained, with pride gleaming in her beautiful brilliant blue eyes.

"Shouldn't you be more careful of what you do here, haven't you heard of the butterfly effect?" That earned the nerd an eye roll.

"Why do people have the premise that time is so sensitive? The butterfly effect only happens in extreme cases."

"Do we have any more siblings in the future?" Dani asked.

Lilith turned back to look at her older sibling, "Yeah. He's a little shit too. He's thirteen." Lilith mumbled sorry when she saw the angered look of her parents at the swear word.

Well, they definitely had time to perfect it with Danielle.

That was when all hell broke loose.

Questions were thrown at her from the class, several all at once, one after another which eventually became a mess of words, shouting, and people who wanted their question answered. Poor Mr. Lancer couldn't even quiet the kids.

Danielle then offered Lilith a hand - even twenty years in the past the sisters had a special connection – and Danielle boosted her up onto Lancer's desk. Bringing her fingers to her mouth, Lilith let out a loud piercing whistle.

"Okay. Mr. Lancer has a class to teach, and I still have to figure out why I'm here. I'll answer only three questions, but then my family and I gotta get out of here. Now, one at a time and you better raise your hand. I won't answer if you don't raise your hand."

Paulina was the first to raise her hand, to which Lilith, with much disgust, picked her. "Do I marry the ghost boy?"

Lilith's eyes squinted in confusion at the eighteen-year-old, her mouth agape for a second, truly contemplating whether or not if this chick was for real. She could tell the rest of her family felt the same, and her dad was holding mom against him, trying to calm her with whispers into her ear so that she wouldn't go and attack the girl.

"Are you serious right now? I just referred to Sam as my mom. Wanna know why? 'Cause they've been married for years in my time."

The latina shrugged. "You can't tell me she amounts to much." Lilith, bless her heart, was mid-air, about to pounce on the older - older to her at least - girl when Danielle caught her by the waist, clutching her younger sister to her chest to try calming her baby sister.

"My mom is a world-renowned fashion designer that makes Danny Phantom clothing. Who do you think came up with my dad's logo? My mom." She stressed the name. "She's also a great ghost hunter along with the rest of my family. My parents are rich, I don't have to worry about any college money wise, but I sure as hell don't flaunt it like you do.

"And another thing, you marry Baxter. Have fun with that. At least one of your children doesn't turn out as horrible as you. The other one is terrible, unfortunately. "

"So we have two kids?" The jock asked sheepishly, as to not upset the girl.

While Dash didn't raise his hand like she had asked in the beginning, Lilith let it slide; she was nice like that."Yep. My brother is actually dating your younger one, Ashlen is her name. It's cute, 'cause she's nothing like her mother. From what I can tell, she likes him for him, and not just his ghost half." She smirked at the girl who was now glaring at her. Not that she minded. Paulina didn't scare her, neither did her kid.

"What's the other one's name? Please tell me it's a boy, I want to keep the Baxter name going." That angered her. He never changed. She had to bite back a growl that bubbled in her throat.

"That-"

"Why are we discussing this?" Mikey piped in once again. "She's from the future. This is only going to mess up the timeline."

That only pissed her off even more. "I have had training with the master of time himself. I think I know more than you're aware of. Have you even met Clockwork? No. So shut up and sit down. I have to cut this short anyway. I really have to find out why I'm here."

She turned to her family. "Let's go to Nana's. We'll discuss everything there." They all nodded in agreement, telling Lancer that they'd pick up their homework after school.

"Race ya." She saw the challenge in her big sister's eyes as she transformed.

"Oh, you're so on!" With that, they sped off towards nana's house, Danielle just a tad ahead.

Yee. I personally love the idea that Danielle and Lilith are close, despite the big age difference. Anyway, let me know your thoughts! Until next time. (I know I said it'd be longer until I posted this story, but I just had so much inspiration for this one that I had to write. Lol)

Shoutout to my amazing beta reader silente faery. The rest will be posted on Fanfiction. I hope you guys enjoy!

#danny phantom #dani phantom #sam manson #Tucker Foley #oc #Lilith #fanfic #fanfiction

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no-crap-fm · 7 years

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Truthing The Fuck Up - Chapter 2

It’s finally here! The continuing exploration of Finn showing up at Rae’s after Linda and Karim run away to Tunisia...

Chapter 2

Pulling away from their kiss, Finn grinned at Rae. He took a moment to absorb the silence around them. Sitting back in his chair, he asked, “Em, so, where’s your mum? Work?” He lifted an eyebrow. Rae smiled. “Actually, no.” She’s buggered off to Tunisia with her exotic man-slave, she thought. “She’s gone away for the weekend. She’ll be back Sunday evening.” Finn’s mouth dropped open. Shaking his head he said, “Don’t let Chop find out. He’ll be after you to host one of his stupid parties.” He laughed. “The only reason he gets so excited when one of us has an empty is so he can get off with someone.” Biting his lip, his expression changed. “So, you’re on your own for the weekend?” Rae shrugged. “So it would seem.” What Rae would later describe in her diary as a wicked grin appeared on Finn’s handsome face. “Would you fancy some company?” He asked, eyebrows waggling. As sweet as Finn had been, he was, after all, still a teenage boy. The thought quickened Rae’s pulse. The silence stretched as her rampant imagination ran wild. Multiple sweaty scenarios played out behind Rae’s eyes. The thought of having Finn to herself for the weekend was beyond anything in her current fantasy repertoire. “Rae?” He suddenly looked a bit worried. The smile returned to Finn’s face as she nodded. Her lips pursed as she asked, “What about your dad? Won’t he miss ya?” Rubbing the back of his neck, he said, “Actually, he’s at a conference. I was going to be on me own most of the weekend anyway. Me dad prefers it when I stay with my mates.” Rae squinted at him. “With your mates? Like Archie, ya mean?” A guilty smile appeared on his face. “Yeah, but I’d much rather be here with you. You’re more than a mate, aren’t ya?” He’d inched closer to her as he spoke. He was now leaning in sitting on the very edge of his chair. Rae’s cheeks burned in response to the weight of his stare. His lips were moving slowly but no sounds were coming out. Rae watched the movement in fascination. She felt her own lips mirroring the motion in unconscious expectation. Finn stilled and locked their gaze. “Come here, Rae.” It was only a matter of inches but Rae was compelled to comply. Normally she would make a snarky comment and incite a row. Today however, she did as Finn requested. Leaning in, she steadily closed the distance between them. Finn’s face lit up at her action and instantly snatched her up in his arms, kissing her soundly. Foreheads touching, Finn stroked Rae’s cheek and said, “Rae, you came to me without arguing. No remark, no attitude. That must be a first.” His chest vibrated with his breathy laugh. Placing a hand on him, Rae straightened a little. Tilting her head, she challenged, “Now, I hardly moved, Finnley and you were right there to pull me in. So I didn’t really do anything.” Finn rolled his eyes. Rubbing his nose against hers he said, “Well, I was so pleased you were doing it.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to wait is all.” They both laughed. After catching their breath, Finn said, “Well, how about I go back to mine and get some clothes and stuff for the weekend, yeah?” Rae struggled to control the grin coming on. “Yeah, that would be cool.” Leaning in again, Finn met her dancing eyes. “Will it, Rae?” As she tried to form a response to his teasing, he kissed her. Dazed and dizzy from Finn’s attention, Rae tried to clear her head. “I’ll be back in about an hour. OK, Rae?” He stood and bent over, kissing her again. She nodded as he pulled away with his fingers trailing across her cheek and ever so lightly traced her lips.

As soon as Finn shut the door with a slam, Rae snapped back to reality. Jumping to her feet, she quickly cleared the tea things and wiped the kitchen table. Sniffing her hair, Rae opted to take a shower and change. Rae selected her most comfortable pajamas and headed to the bath. She worried briefly what Finn would think of her. After such an emotional day she had no interest in going out. She just wanted to clean herself up and enjoy a long lie in, hopefully with Finn.

After a thorough scrub, Rae dried her hair and got herself dressed for bed. She returned to the kitchen to put on the kettle for a fresh cup of tea. As she dropped bags in their mugs, she heard the front door open. “Rae?” Finn called out. “I let myself in. I hope that’s all right.” He came around the corner and gave her a cheerful smile when he spotted her. Noting his overnight bag, Rae offered, “Why don’t you put your stuff upstairs in my room. It’s the second door on the left.” Finn nodded but remained in place. His eyes scaled Rae’s body. His smile became a satisfied smirk. Finn was obviously pleased by Rae’s ensemble. “Em, maybe I should put on my pajamas too.” Rae beamed at the suggestion. Finn gave her a brief nod and bolted up the stairs to change. The kettle’s whistle startled Rae. She let their cups steep while she went to the lounge. Rae flipped through the channels, finally settling on a film. Finn bounded down the last steps and practically leapt in front of her. His plaid pajama pants hung low on his waist, his feet were clad in white socks paired with the same white t-shirt with the navy bands around the neck and sleeves. Grabbing Rae for a kiss, he felt her lose her balance. Laughing, he said, “Steady on, Rae. Has my kissing ya got ya so rattled?” Narrowing her eyes, she said, “Watch it, you arrogant prick.” Throwing his hand over his heart, he acted wounded. Recovering, he wagged his finger at Rae. “I’ll have none of your cheek, madam.” “Don’t know what choice you have in the matter, Finnley.” She shrugged and turned to fetch their tea. As soon as Rae’s back was turned Finn silently moved behind her and tickled her sides. Rae doubled over giggling as Finn wrapped himself around her back. “So I don’t have much choice, do I? Is that how it’s going to be?” Finn said through his teeth as he continued his attack. Rae’s breath came quick and with a high pitched whine. “Yeah, that’s how it’s going to be.” When he didn’t let up, Rae panted, “Finn! Stop! I. Can’t. Breathe.” “If you can talk, Rae. You can breathe.” He squeezed her sides and felt rewarded by her laughter. Finally stopping, Finn’s arms slid around Rae’s waist. Hugging himself to her back, Finn guided them to the counter to retrieve their mugs. Reaching around Rae, Finn handed her a cup and picked up his own. Rae giggled as she took her first sip. He pulled her into his chest momentarily and let go to step in front of Rae. As he sipped his tea and inspected the pattern on his cup, Finn said, “Pink, eh? I didn’t take you as a girl who liked pink.” There was something a little off in his tone. He glanced at her. “It suits you.” He placed a hand on her forearm, rubbing his thumb over the fabric of her top. “It’s soft,” he whispered. He came in closer to Rae’s side and rested his arm around her waist as they leaned against the counter and drank their tea. Rae noticed a curious set to Finn’s features. It was like Finn had a secret and was feeling smug about it. She let it go for the time-being. Finn’s heart rate calmed as they stood in companionable silence. Rae put her head on his shoulder as she drank. Sighing into her hair, Finn kissed her scalp and let his cheek rest there. Taking a deep breath, Finn whispered, “Your hair smells nice, Rae.” He turned his nose into it and breathed in and out. Rae swallowed. “Thanks. Em…” Finn could tell she wanted to say something. Pulling his eyebrows together he looked sideways at her. “What’s up, Rae?” Taking another sip, Rae considered her words, “Em, I don’t usually like people touching me. Especially in certain places.” Rae felt Finn’s hold on her back loosen and was instantly saddened at the loss of contact. Turning quickly to Finn she gulped, “Not you though. It’s weird. Em, I’m very self-conscious about my em, body.” She gave Finn a crooked smile and continued, “I, em, worry that if someone touches me, em, they won’t like it. Normally, being tickled would freak me out. But-” Finn set his mug down and dropped his hands as he came to stand in front of her. “Rae, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m so sorry. I-” Rae cut him off. “No, Finn. What I’m telling you is that for the first time in forever, it didn’t freak me out. I just…I just…” Rae’s eyes dropped to the floor. Reaching for her and thinking better of it, Finn said, “Rae, please look at me.” When her eyes came up but her chin remained down he said, “You just wha?” Rae’s lips rolled into her mouth. Her brow wrinkled. Finn gave her an encouraging smile. Puffing out a breath, Rae set down her mug on the counter and said, “I just want ya to still like me after you’ve touched me. It scares me that you may fancy me now, but after…” Regaining his confidence, Finn put an arm around Rae’s back and the other in Rae’s hair with half his palm on her cheek. He pulled her in so tightly and touched his lips to hers. His words came out against her lips. “Of course I still fancy ya, Rae. I love getting to finally touch you. I wanted to for so long. And you know wha?” Rae smiled and her lips skimmed over his. “Wha?” Finn’s thumb brushed her cheek over and over. “It’s so much better than I imagined.” He pulled her in for a passionate, drawn out kiss. Their hands were everywhere. Finn held Rae to him, their bodies leaving no room for light to show between them. Their breathing synced as they groaned into the other’s mouth. Rae never knew kissing someone could be this way. It was nothing like she’d read about. It was certainly nothing like kissing Archie. Finn was so gentle and so strong in equal measure. Any doubts she had felt were lost in her scrambled thoughts as soon as Finn’s lips touched hers. All she knew was need and desire to continue touching and holding onto Finn. If his hands gathering fistfuls of her pajama top were any indication, Finn felt the same way. When they broke apart, Finn took Rae by the hand and led her into the lounge. The telly was on and Finn turned to Rae with a raised eyebrow. “We don’t have to watch that. Em, we can see what else is on?” Rae offered. Finn smiled. “I brought some videos if you want. They’re in my bag.” Rae nodded and Finn was off. In mere seconds Finn was before Rae with a stack of videos to choose from. Rae read over the titles. “Aw, The Commitments! I love that one!” Rae gushed. Finn pulled it from the stack and set the others on the table in front of the sofa. “Now, Rae, how did I know that?” With a cheeky wink, he strode over to the VCR and put in the cassette. Rae gave him a withering glare as he silently gloated into a seated position on the sofa. Reaching his hand out, he patted the cushion next to him and waited for Rae. Rolling her eyes, she took the proffered seat and settled back to watch the film. Finn scooted closer to her and rested his head on her shoulder, tucking his feet under his legs. His hand sought hers as it traveled over her thigh. Tingles rushed through her as her fingers met his and he grasped them snugly. Both of them released a breath and sank a little more deeply into their seats. After the film had been playing for a while Rae was quietly singing along with Chain of Fools when she felt Finn lift his head from her shoulder. “Rae? You can sing?” Finn sounded astonished. Rae snapped her mouth shut and looked caught out. “Rae?” Finn asked again. She nodded and said, “Em, yeah, a bit. I suppose.” Finn’s broad smile perplexed her. He settled his head back on her shoulder. Scooping up her hand, he fanned out their fingers and gave them a squeeze. “Don’t stop, please. It’s beautiful.” Rae had never been given such a compliment before. Snuggling against Finn she turned her focus back to the film and carried on singing along at a low volume.

The credits rolled some time later and Rae’s eyes drifted to the stack of videos Finn had set on the table in front of them. A bit of pink paper sticking out between Jurassic Park and Reservoir Dogs drew her attention. “What’s this, then?” Rae asked as she slowly sat up, dislocating Finn, forcing him to rise as well. Noting the direction of Rae’s vision and motion, Finn determined what she was after. His hand darted out to get it first but Rae was closer. Removing the paper from the small pile of films, Rae noticed it was an envelope. Turning to Finn, Rae asked, “What’s this? A letter?” Finn nodded, smiling in embarrassment. “Em, well, I wanted to ask you about that. I found it with the post when I got home today.” Rae turned over the envelope in confusion. She had no clue what the girlie looking stationary with Finn’s name and address written in slightly familiar handwriting had to do with her. Bringing it to her nose, she detected a strong, cloying scent clinging to the paper. Something was forming in her mind about the letter but it wasn’t clear just yet. She bit her lip as she smiled crookedly at Finn, lost in thought.

To Be Continued…

Thank you for reading! Happy Monday to you!

#truthing the fuck up #mmfd #rae earl #finn nelson

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amanda-teaches · 7 years

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Stuck in the Rain

Supernatural/SPN Fanfic

Summary: You’re a hunter forced to spend the night on the side of the road when you get caught in the rain while pursuing a case. A familiar face shows up to help you and some feelings get revealed.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2235

Warnings: None, I think. If you see any, let me know and I’ll add it! I’m new at this.

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing fanfic. It’s probably awful, but I tried my best. Please let me know what you think! I would love feedback on how to improve for next time.

You drove down the pitch-black road, squinting through your rain-streaked windshield, looking for any sign of civilization. The rain was falling steadily now, decreasing the visibility significantly. Definitely not the kind of weather you wanted to be stuck driving in, but you had been driving for hours and had yet to come across anywhere to stop for the night, let alone a decent motel. You yawned, loudly enough for it to echo within the confined walls of your car.

“I’m going to die from exhaustion out here,” you moaned. All you wanted was a nice, warm bed and a soft, cuddly blanket. But, that didn’t seem to be in the cards tonight. Your destination was still a good two hours away, longer with the rain, and, with no motels in sight, it seemed like you were stuck spending the night on the road. No surprise there. Life as a hunter wasn’t exactly glamorous.

“So much for my quick, easy case,” you muttered. Then, you sighed heavily. “This is what happens when I dare to dream of a quiet, Netflix-filled night at home.”

The trip had started out simply enough. A cut-and-dry werewolf case an hour from home. In and out, home by 9, easy. But, it had unexpectedly evolved into a much more complicated case when the werewolf turned out to be a skinwalker who had skipped town as soon as he caught wind of you. Now, you were stuck driving through a torrential downpour following the skinwalker’s trail with no end in sight. Fan-freaking-tastic.

You gritted your teeth and refocused your attention on the increasingly blurry road ahead of you, determined to tough it out and drive straight through to the next town, but your fatigue kept getting in the way. You felt your eyes drift closed and jerked yourself back awake.

“Ok, that’s it,” you murmured. “A night on the side of the road is better than dying in a fiery car crash.” Determined now that you had a plan, you pulled over onto the shoulder of the road and put your car into park. You didn’t bother to turn on the hazard lights, not wanting to drain your car’s battery, before you settled down to sleep.

You couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour when the low roar of a car engine jolted you from your sleep. You shot up and grabbed your gun from the seat next to you as a reflex. You quickly checked the magazine before glancing in the rearview mirror. The rain was still falling steadily but you could just make out a dark car pulling up right behind your’s on the side of the deserted highway.

Your hand immediately tightened around your gun. Realistically, you figured you can handle any threat that came your way, but your heartbeat still quickened when the door to the car behind you opened and a figure stepped out. You couldn’t make out the identity of the figure, so you cocked your gun as a precaution, sank deeper into your seat, and waited.

The figure knocked on the window and you held your breath, hoping they would go away so you could sleep in peace. They knocked again, more insistent this time and you shifted your gun, ready for anything. It wasn’t until you recognized a distinctive, low, gravelly voice that you relaxed.

“Come on, Y/N, I know you’re in there,” Dean growled. “Like I wouldn’t know your car when I see it. Now, open the door. I’m getting hypothermia out here.”

“Dean?!” You stammered, your eyes flying to the darkened window.

“What was your first clue? Unlock the door, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” you whispered before pressing the unlock button on your door’s control panel. You waited for Dean to hurry around to the passenger side and slide in before you spoke again. “What are you doing out here?”

“Looking for you.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Did Bobby tell you where I was? Please tell me he didn’t call you to come babysit me. Cause I can handle this case by myself, Dean.”

Dean put his hands up in front of him in defense. “Whoa, back up. Bobby didn’t call me. I just happened to be driving through the area when I stumbled on that skinwalker case. I ran across one of your aliases on the logbook at the police station and figured it would make more sense for us to work the case together. So, I drove out this way hoping to catch up to you.” He raised his eyebrows. “Although, if I had known I would find you in the middle of a torrential downpour, I might’ve turned around and gone back home.”

You grinned at him. “Awww. Is the great Dean Winchester afraid of a little rain?”

Dean frowned and shook his head, spraying little droplets of water at you. “A little rain? Sweetheart, it’s a friggen hurricane out there.”

You threw your head back and laughed while Dean continued to scowl at you. “Oh. I’m sorry, Dean. I know I shouldn’t be laughing, but I can’t help it. You look like a drowned puppy.”

Dean growled at you while he took his outer plaid shirt off and shook it out. You couldn’t help but notice the way his wet t-shirt clung to him as he shifted in his seat. Dean Winchester was, without a doubt, one of the most attractive men you had ever met. You would have to be blind to not have noticed in all the times the two of you had worked cases together. Things had never crossed the line between the two of you, but that didn’t mean you didn’t think about what it might be like. Fantasize about it. About him. But, your job made relationships way too complicated. So, you kept your feelings locked away.

You tried in vain to ignore the way your body was reacting to Dean as he shifted back to you. You refocused your attention on his gorgeous green eyes as he gave you one of his infamous glares.

“You laugh now, princess, but you’d be singing a different tune if you were the one out in the rain. Now, grab your stuff. Let’s go.”

“Go?” You replied, puzzled. “Go where?”

Dean flashed a self-assured grin. “To the Impala. You’re bunking with me.”

“Uh, no,” you laughed. “I’m staying right here. In my own car. Where it’s dry.”

“Fine,” Dean mumbled. “We’ll wait the storm out here then.” He started to climb into the back seat to stretch out when your voice stopped him.

“You can go back to the Impala. We’re not joined at the hip,” you sassed back at him.

Dean turned back to you, his intense green eyes focusing right on yours, momentarily making you lose your train of thought. “I’m not leaving you by yourself, princess. You shouldn’t be out here alone in the middle of the night. What were you thinking? Any lunatic could get the drop on you. Especially when you make yourself an easy target by parking on the side of the road.”

You bristled. “What am I, a damsel in distress? I can take care of myself, Winchester. I would have thought you learned that all those times we worked together and I saved you from becoming monster food. Besides,” you continued, shoving your finger into his chest, “you spend the night on the side of the road all the time.”

Dean stiffened. “Not alone. I have Sam. Everyone needs someone to watch their back, Y/N, especially hunters.” He sighed and ran his hand down his face. Then, his eyes met yours again and he smiled. “And, of course I know you can handle yourself, Y/N. I’m not questioning that.”

You drew your finger back from his chest, satisfied at his answer. “Good. As long as we got that straight, Winchester. You can stay.” You ignored Dean’s self-satisfied smirk and looked back towards what you now knew was the Impala, noticing for the first time that Sam was not there. “Speaking of Sam, where is he?”

Dean flashed you another of his heart-stopping smiles, seriously testing your willpower. All you wanted to do was throw yourself into his arms and never look back.

“Sam’s, uh, wrapping up another case,” he muttered.

You snorted and gave Dean your best exasperated face. “You mean he hooked up with a girl with a severe case of hero-worship and stayed behind to enjoy some shore leave.”

Dean threw his head back and laughed. When he was done, he turned his attention back to you. He slowly raised his hand and leaned in closer. He ran his hand through your hair, down the side of your face, stopping to cradle your cheek. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with enjoying the fruits of our labor. You know,” he continued, rubbing his thumb across your cheek, “we could always take a page from Sam’s book and, um, enjoy some shore leave of our own, if you know what I mean.”

You ever so briefly leaned into his touch before coming to your senses and pulling back. As amazing as a night with Dean Winchester would be, it could only lead to heartbreak. You quickly hid your disappointment by laughing and pushing him away. Wrapped up in your own thoughts, you missed the pain that flashed ever so briefly across Dean’s face at your rejection. “Oh, I know what you mean, Casanova. Don’t make me throw you back out into that storm.”

Dean smiled softly before laughing it off. “Hey, a guy’s got to try. What else am I going to do in the middle of a hurricane, huh?”

You laughed again, genuinely this time. “Just go to sleep, you dork.”

Dean winked at you before pulling back to finish his climb into the back seat. You couldn’t help but admire the view as he went over the center console and got himself settled. “You know,” he whispered seductively, “there’s enough room back here for two.”

“In your dreams, Winchester. Give it up!” You settled yourself back down to try to get some sleep. You heard him chuckle quietly and tried to ignore the way your heart sped up at the sound. You exhaled slowly and closed your eyes, counting to 10 in an effort to calm down. Not that that was possible knowing Dean Winchester was in your back seat.

The car was quiet for a few minutes as you attempted to will yourself back to sleep. All you heard was the pitter patter of the rain falling on the roof and Dean’s gentle breathing in the backseat. Suddenly, his gruff voice broke the silence.

“I wasn’t kidding, just so you know.”

Your ears perked up at that and your heart sped right back up. “Kidding about what?” you choked out.

“About us.” Your heart stopped and you almost stopped breathing right then and there. You held your breath as he continued. “I know I made it into a joke, but that doesn’t mean I don’t mean it, Y/N.”

You sat up and looked across the seat back at him. Dean was stretched out across the back seat with his arms folded over his chest. His eyes were open staring right back at you. “And, what exactly do you mean, Dean?”

“I mean,” he said, sitting up to meet you at eye level, “that I think you’re amazing. I always have and I always will. You just say the word, and I’m yours.” Before you could speak, he held up his hand. “Before you yell at me, just hear me out. I know you don’t think the two of us can work, but you’re wrong. We would be incredible.”

“Dean…” you whispered, feeling yourself start to tear up. “You don’t have to do this. I know I’m not your type…”

Dean cut you off before you could finish. “Are you kidding me?” He smiled, grabbing your hand and holding it against his chest. “How can you not see it? You’re completely my type. You’re gorgeous, funny, smart, and tough as nails. You’re one of the best hunters I have ever met and one of the only girls I know who can behead a vampire and gank a demon without even breaking a sweat. Not to mention that, despite everything you’ve seen, all the evil you’ve faced, you’ve somehow managed to keep believing that there’s good in this world. You even see the good in me, as hard as that is.” He paused, collecting himself before continuing, his voice sounding a little gruffer. “You have never given up on me, Y/N, even when I’ve given up on myself. And that’s only a few of the hundreds of reasons why I love you. Just give me a chance and I’ll show you how much.”

He leaned in and you met him half way. You could feel all of his love and passion flow into you as you melted into his kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he picked you up, drawing you over the seat and into his arms. He kissed you intensely and hungrily, and you gave him just as good as you were getting. When he finally pulled back, you beamed and gave him the words you had both been waiting to hear, never once imagining that the other one felt the same way. “I love you, too, Dean. I always will.”

Tagging some people who encouraged me to post this: @hamartiamacguffin @luciisthebest @impala-dreamer

#spn fanfic #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert

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sterted · 7 years

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This is lengthy. Please, allow me to do this. For one last time. Huli na to. I honestly dont know where to start, i suck at intros. Idk if you still remember it, i said it to you one time. It doesn't matter. Franz Ernest, this is a eulogy to all the feelings and love i have left of you. Please, let me do this. 6 months after you broke up with me, i managed to build myself up again. I was depressed back then, stuck in the idea of second chances and coming back. I managed to find myself in the process. During those 6 months, it wasn't easy. I had to cry everyday, every night, just to ease the pain and self-pity i had with myself. Until i decided to accept things as they were. I thought i was already okay. I started to open my heart again in silence. I dated one guy. Things were too fast for us, i wasnt able to control myself, i let him touched my skin. But he was an asshole.

The pain didn't last too long, naging okay din ako after don sa kanya ng ilang weeks. I was surprised. I started to pick myself up again. There were handful of guys na nagpaparamdam but i wasn't ready anymore. Pero hinayaan ko lang. I entertained them. Everything became a play nalang sa akin. I wasn't looking for serious relationship bc i know, hindi sila yung hinahanap ko. Hindi ko alam anong hinahanap ko.

I was lost again. I fucked things up. I drank countless bottles of beer and whiskey and tequila. I smoked countless cigarettes. I tasted a couple of lips. I fucked many feelings i didn't intend to. I hurt people's feelings. I was called bad influence for having my bestfriend with me sa mga inuman. I was so fucked up i didn't realize the consequences of my actions. I self-loathe every night. I was depressed again. Anxiety kicked back in. I cried in front of my family, all they knew was bc the problem i had with my academics but no. I ruined friendships bc i hurt somebody else's feelings. I felt like i ruined everything, everyone, that's in my way. Life goes on after all. The world didn't stop rotating. I carry on. Even if it feels like im hanging at the edge of a cliff every single day but i still carry on. All these things happened the day you and teejay broke up. You were so depressed. I was wandering in nothingness with you when you were in your peril. Funny lang kasi ikaw yung may pinagdaraanan nun pero affected din ako sa lahat. To be honest, happy ako sayo non Franz. I have witnessed you grow as a person. Like a phoenix, you said, that rose from the ashes. Since the beginning i never lose sight of you, figuratively. There wasn't a day that i never checked your social media accounts. Facebook, twitter, tumblr, instagram, snapchat, and even skype. I walked your path. There's nothing to be ashamed of, if you know what i mean. You had to do those things that you did because it was part of your healing process from me. I broke you too and you had to do things that an ex should do — move on and fall in love again.

I wont lie that i was hurt knowing that you had already someone new in your life, but God knows how much i wanted you to be happy, and i knew you were happy, and your happiness was my happiness. It was painful seeing how clingy and showy you were with him, unlike what we had before when we remained our privacy to the both of us with a thin line of secrecy. But again, i was happy for you. I understood your eagerness to be a better man, a better partner, boyfriend. You wanted to be better at everything so you wont commit the same mistake again you did by hurting someone, by making them less of your priority. You wanted to be a better person, you wanted to be braver that love should be showed off regardless of sexuality. I was proud that at some point, you learned, i became a lesson. You dont have to say it bc i know. I've always known.

I was happy for you until that time came you two broke up. You were so depressed. I felt the emptiness and despair you had in those times. Because i once lived in them. I had witnessed you in your downfall and worst. I had crawled in your skin to understand every bit of your thought. I knew about your depression and your anxiety and i was gnashing my teeth bc i can do nothing about it. I was out of the map already. But there were countless times that i was tempted to reach out, countless times i composed a letter. Dont laugh but i sent letters/confessions countless times in those fb pages, for i knew you were fond of reading them. I was hoping you read what i wrote but maybe destiny had it, none of it was posted. You know what i did? I prayed for you every night. I prayed to God to heal you and make you recover from your peril. But you knew i am stubbornly impatient. I did one of the most stupidest things, i messaged your sister, Stephanie. I said to her to look after you for i know you were not very open to your family about your depression and anxiety. I told her that you need professional guidance. Remember my friend who was a psychologist? I told her about your depression and anxiety, and she told me that you really are in need of professional guidance, so i told your sister. I know i should've not said that but i was so desperate to help you in the most possible way i knew. I got a pang in my chest seeing and reading all your posts. I did what i did. Idk, if nabasa yon ng ate mo, it doesnt matter. I guess..

It all started there. My anxiety and depression kicked back in. I was appeased knowing that slowly you were recovering and i didn't realize that slowly too, i was going back to where i picked up myself. From the start. Back to zero. Nag move on ako ulit, and without realizing again, hindi pala ako totally nag move on. Ikaw pa din pala. All along, ikaw pa rin. I ignored the thought. But you cant just ignore it so easily. I fucked things up. Yung mga sinabi ko kanina, yun yung nangyari sa loob ng tatlong buwan. I dont know myself anymore, i lose myself in the process and this time idk where myself is. Everything became a snowball of problem. I lose my control, i lose myself, i was having suicide thoughts of ending everything. I dont want to die but the idea of ending the pain became very alluring. I was scared to be left alone. I stare at my ceiling every 3am doing nothing. Listening to the songs that we used to listen to. Umiiyak ako ng hindi ko namamalayan. I relive the pain everyday. I've been stuck in the idea of you, in the idea na there's no other person who could make me feel the way you made me feel how to love and how to be loved by someone who is very genuine. You set the bar high, so high, that i ignore every person who came into my life. You set the bar so high that i become scared to be hurt again. I have been stuck in the idea na babalik ka. I have been very selfish and dishonest in my prayers that every time i asked God to make you happy, deep inside me has been asking Him na sana ikaw na, na ikaw nalang.

Sorry, i have to say all of these things. I have to and i need to. I hope you understand. Deep in my heart and God knows, i am not blaming you to every thing that has happened to me. There's no one to be blamed but myself. Do not blame yourself for I am not your liability. You are not obligated of anyone's feelings especially mine. You have perils to deal on your own even if i wasn't in it anymore. For one last time please let me say this. Let me relive the ghosts we once were..

You wore white shirt, black skinny jeans, and white starwars vans shoes with a galaxy jansport bag with your white nike cap attached in it. You wore those smiles and those messy curly hair and those eyes searching for a 5'4 ft tall guy wearing a red plaid shirt with a black shirt, jeans, shoes, and bag. Our eyes met as if the moon and sun touched each other for the first time. Every moment was euphoric, Franz Ernest. I was looking at the best man, the best person, that ever happened to me. I was looking at you in those 4am sleep while i was lying in your chest praying and thanking God that He gave me you. I was praying that someday all those coffees in breakfasts, all those piggyback, those endless laughter in our socks and boxers with our dogs in our feet and pizzas in our hand, and all those deep conversations with a milk or tea or whiskey in our side, i was praying that all these things will happen soonest in the future where you at my side against all odds. I was staring at the person, with his eyes closed and his eyelashes perfectly curved and cheeks so squishy. I was staring at you every 4am when you spent your days here. The world was quite all i heard was the sound of your breathing like lullabies in my ears. The time has come for the sun to bid goodbye to the moon, like minutes spent in twilight, you whispered in my ear that you will return. Every word was spoken breathlessly, with all the innocence and genuineness of a brave soul. I was so proud of you Franz Ernest. I have always been. You are not an epitome of despair because you were the best thing that ever happened to me. I am proud of you because you have attained your Moksha. You were reborn in the braver version of yourself today. You're a leo and i'm a cancer who both once wished to take the world together.

This would be the last piece that Im writing for you. A eulogy of all the feelings and love i have left of you. I never stopped writing poems or anything about you but this time, i must say, this writer has to find himself. This writer has once again proved that if there's something you want to say, say them no matter how tongue-tied you are. We create our own path. You have found your home and it wasnt me all along. I love you so much and thank you for everything. Wishing you all the best things and abundance in life Franz Ernest Jacob Valera.

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