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roanofarcc · 5 months ago

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ONE DANCE, PLEASE?

pairing: trevor lefkowitz x ghost bride!reader

summary: since your death, weddings at Woodstone have been a source of bitterness for you but that doesn’t stop trevor from attempting to cheer you up with a dance

word count. 1.6k || masterlist

warnings: fem!reader, mentions of death, dead!reader

a/n: this is my first ghosts fic so please be gentle! I love the idea of a ghost bride and debated on making it into an OC or reader story. I think I like having it be in little one-shots! it’s a crime more hasn’t been written for trevor (or any of the show’s characters). feel free to request for trevor or any other ghosts characters <3

“Are you going to mope around for eternity?” Sasappis asked you, standing arms crossed in front of a beautiful garden decorated to the nines. The backdrop to your sulking was stunning flowers tied in bunches and pastel dresses moving around the patio-turned-dance floor.

“Is that not the point of being a ghost?” you replied, jutting out your feet forever stuck in kitten heels and skin-colored pantyhose. Sass lightly kicked your foot with his and nodded his head to the corner just off the dance floor where the rest of the ghosts danced and laughed. A part of you was jealous of how easily they enjoyed themselves at weddings and how they were not plagued with an eternal hatred for them and what they represented.

It always felt like a cruel joke, even though it never had anything to do with you, when Sam and Jay hosted a wedding at their B&B. As much as you loved the couple, you couldn’t stand what most considered a joyous event. The union of two people in love, not tainted by tragedy, grew your restatement each time. Weddings were a part of the business and helped Sam and Jay bring in the money they desperately needed to fix up the mansion, but that didn’t mean you had to enjoy yourself. Instead, you spent each event sulking on the sidelines, ignoring the pang in your chest, and avoiding your ghostly counterparts' advances to cheer you up. The only thing that would’ve cheered you up was a do-over of your big day that was ruined by a strike of unluckiness, resulting in your untimely death.

Sass narrowed his gaze at you but decided against saying whatever he wanted to. Instead, he turned on his heel and headed back to the ghosts. You adverted your gaze back down to the beads sewn into your dress, picking at them with the wish you could pull the garment apart with your hands, but since it was what you died in, it would forever stick to you.

A slow song played through the DJ’s speakers as the sun slowly began to set over the yard. Strung lights glittered warmly, bathing the attendees in a golden glow. The bride had looked radiant since she arrived at the mansion days ago, and all day you had to watch her and her husband’s love run circles around you. Your malice wasn’t aimed directly at the happy couple, but rather at what they represented and the reminder of what you almost had.

Someone appeared beside you, their presence clouding your solitude-sulking. “What a bunch of losers,” the person said, causing you to turn your head and meet Trevor. “I mean, seriously, this song was lame when I went to weddings and people are still dancing to it? I get the appeal of throwbacks but let’s pick this snooze-fest up a little, am I right?”

You rolled your eyes. “What do you know about weddings?”

“I happen to have been invited to a lot of them, thank you very much. Well, the receptions and bachelor parties, usually. Those weddings had a lot more alcohol and single bridesmaids.” You said nothing in response, hoping your dimly lit mood would shoo Trevor away. You were mistaken, though. If anything, your silence only encouraged him further. He moved in closer to your side, standing with his hands on his hips as he gazed out across the crowd. “I think they may need some help livening things up a bit. Care to join me?”

He often tried to do that, brighten your mood by offering to dance with you. And every time you turn him down, not because you didn't want to, but because you’re worried that the second you start to enjoy yourself at a wedding, tragedy will follow a second time around. You liked Trevor and couldn’t stand the thought of enjoying yourself only to hurt yourself, again, or him. In your head, as long as you moped around, everything would stay the same as they were, which you loved more than you’d admit aloud. You liked your ghost-mates and you liked Sam and Jay. If you somehow brought some unfortunate curse upon any of them because you enjoyed yourself just as you had on your own wedding day, you weren’t sure you could cope with that a second time around, not when you hardly coped with it from the first time.

“Trevor…” you sighed, defeated and slumped-shouldered.

Normally, he dropped it after that. He usually sat quietly at your side until his excitement and urge to join the party overwhelmed him and he resumed dancing with Flower or attempting to play pranks on the livings with Thorfinn. That time, however, he took you by surprise. He moved directly in front of you, face set with a certain tone of seriousness that was odd.

“Nope,” he said, simply. “You are not moping for eternity. I won’t let you.”

“That’s not your choice.”

He smirked, cheekily and annoying but stupidly charming. Those three words suited him too well. Trevor extended his hand out, making a grabbing motion with his hand. “One dance, that’s all I’m askin’. That’s all I need to change your mind.” You tightened your grip on the skirt of your dress, unbudging at his request. “One dance. Please?” His voice was a little lower, pleading almost.

One dance. You never got to dance at your wedding. Something bad could happen, it probably would.

Trevor’s fingers grazed your knuckles, tapping them lightly and looking at you in a way, underneath the golden light, that made you consider it. He noticed your hesitation and dropped his hand back down at his side.

“Okay,” he said after a beat before he turned away with a little frown on his lips that made you feel even worse.

There was something wrong with you, maybe it was some kind of ghostly side effect of dying on your wedding day; perhaps you were doomed to live in the murky waters of what-if and why.

The bride and groom were in the middle of the patio dance floor, spinning each other around in quiet fits of laughter and bodies pressed as close as they could get with the bride’s fluffy dress. They were married, dancing as two halves of a whole with nothing bad lingering over their heads. There was no impending doom, aside from you sitting on the outskirts. The doom was you and your mind, rippled with jealousy, sadness, and a million questions of what exactly you could have done differently that day. But the truth was, there was nothing you could have done. Fate was fate, as Flower had once said in one of her more insightful conversations. Fate was messy and included bear attacks, arrows in necks, and accidents. Fate found you there, at the Woodstone mansion forever a fiancee but now entangled with the fates of your ghost friends who also found themselves there forever.

Forever was such a long, made even longer with eternity hanging on your shoulders. How many more weddings would you sit there, watching and sulking in your own unhappiness that others wanted to fix for you?

Something between a groan and a sigh left your lips as you stood up, letting your wedding dress fall back down to the ground in the pristine condition you had died in it in. “Trevor,” you said again, louder as you called after him. He stopped, slowly turning around with a confused quirk of his brow. You nervously picked at the beads again, but that time wasn’t to pick them off but rather settle them back in place in a similar way to how you had picked at them awaiting your turn to walk down the aisle. A dance was not nearly as monumental as that, but it carried a weight that pressed down on your chest.

“One dance,” you said. He stared at you for a moment like he wasn’t sure he had heard you right. It wasn’t until Thor punched him in the arm with a hardy laugh and Hetty pushed him forward towards you.

Trevor approached you, smoothing out his tie. “Really?” he asked.

You nodded. “If anything bad happens, I’m blaming it on you," you said only half joking.

He smiled, wide and toothy and the way that made you subconsciously want to copy it. “The worst thing that’ll happen is me stepping on your feet. I haven’t slow danced since prom.” Despite that, he dramatically bowed and extended his hand. “May I have this dance,” he said in a terrible accent. You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, some of that weight lifting from where it hurt your chest.

Once you accepted his hand, he all but dragged you to a quiet corner of the dance floor, away from where any livings would walk through you two, and away from the other ghosts and their suggestive smirks and comments pointed at the two of you.

When you danced, with his feet clumsily trying to avoid stepping on yours and hands rested on your waist, nothing bad happened. You did not die a second time around, nor did tragedy strike in the way you feared. The only thing that occurred was dancing, peppered with occasional laughter and a quick apology when Trevor stepped on your skirt and halted your movements. You recovered with a shake of your head and a slight lead in the dance, which he didn’t voice but silently appreciated.

#cbs ghosts #trevor lefkowitz #trevor lefkowitz x reader #trevor lefkowitz x you #sasappis #thorfinn #isaac higgintoot #hetty woodstone #alberta haynes #flower montero #pete martino #ghosts fanfiction #cbs ghosts fanfiction

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deepestnightcolor · 7 months ago

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Hello ~ I just binged all of your Sam fics and am obsessed!! I would love to see your take on what happened during Sam's 10 heart event if you stay in the bed hehe. Thank you for your writing!!

ᴀ/ɴ: Thank you so much for the compliment and the request. It really, really means a lot to me. I simply love writing Sam as a pussy-whipped slut. I hope you enjoy, thank you for your time!

☾ ʜɪᴅᴇᴏᴜᴛ ☽

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 3402 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: creampie, mentions of blood, drool, fast sex, mentions of being caught, I guess?

"Well, don't do too many push-ups, then. Good night, dear."

The click of the door signaled that Jodi had left the room, the sight that left Sam only verifying your assumption. Still, you waited. Quietly, patiently. There was no need to rush now, was there? And besides, Sam's bed smelled _so_ good. Like vanilla and cola, like fresh air. Like him.

"Shit...I'm sorry. You can come out now."

You didn't want to. Surrounded by his scent and the warmth that your position beneath the yellow sheet had caused, you felt comfortable and safe. Still, Sam could watch you shift around before your head popped up from below the bed sheet. Your hair was ruffled, and your cheeks were red. If from the rush of having to hide, or embarrassment, he didn't know. But he knew he himself was bushing due to the two things combined. He hadn't wanted to hide you, but he was painfully aware that the whole town would have known about...this had his mom seen you. And he didn't even know if you wanted this.

He gave you a smile, small and sheepish. "I'm sorry for hiding you-"

"Your bed is comfortable," you interrupted, stretching your body before slowly lifting the yellow sheet. "Try it. It's a really good hideout."

For a moment, his orbs were filled with disbelief. Confusion, even. That didn't last long, though, the look on his face quickly being swept off and replaced with a lighter one, maybe one of relief. Feeling Sam almost jump on the bed and snuggle up to you, you realized it had been a look of excitement.

His arms felt warm and heavy around you, and there was no other choice but to give in to this comforting touch.

"You know...," he murmured, snapping the rubber band around his wrist behind your back. "I usually put on rubber bands when I don't want to forget something. But this time this was unnecessary...I mean. I... I could never forget how I feel about you, you know?"

Your heart was beating up in your throat, and your breathing was now heavier. You tried to find words.

Really, you did. But all you could do was form a smile on his lips, the throbbing of your heart in your throat screaming at you to make it calm enough for him to go on.

To your great joy, Sam did. "Y'know...I...well. I haven't felt like this about anyone ever...and I-I...y'know."

Say it. Yoba, please.

"I always knew there was something special between us. That..that I really like you," he whispered, gently gripping your chin.

The smile that was plastered on your lips stayed put until you felt Sam's soft ones against yours. You heard your blood rushing in your ears as you flung your arms around his neck, kissing him back.

It started out so soft, so gentle. Mouths moving in sync, whispering the words neither of you had found in your awkwardness without using words.

You seriously didn't know how it could have escalated like this; Sam's tongue was in your mouth now, dominating yours as you eagerly sucked on it. His large hands were tracing up and down your sides, until they finally found the hem of your shirt, vanishing beneath the fabric before you could do as much as even lift it.

You moaned when the palms of his hands pressed against your tits, a sound that riled Sam up. His head was spinning, and he was pretty sure it was because of the lack of blood which slowly made its way elsewhere.

Actually, that was a lie. His dick was hardening faster than he would have ever wanted to admit, and your leg wrapping around his slender hips certainly didn’t help. He could feel the heat of your lower body matching his now, and Yoba did it feel good.

“Sam,” you whimpered in his mouth that pressed sloppy kisses to yours. Only now did he realize that his fingers were pinching your nipples through the lacy fabric of your bra, leading you to grind into his erect penis. It was so tempting, after all. Right there, hot and throbbing against you. “Mhh?” he grunted back, but the time he gave you to react was barely non-existent as his sloppy tongue entered your mouth again, teeth cluttering together when you inched closer.

Neither of you cared, too involved in the heat of the moment. Sam’s long fingers wandered behind your back, unclasping the hooks of your bra and pulling it from beneath your shirt.

The piece of clothing landed in the middle of his room without much more regard to it, fingers now pressing down on the exposed flesh, hard enough to send little waves of pleasure through you, but not hard enough to satisfy the greedy hunger that was growing within you, to ease the wetness pooling between your legs.

As if reading your thoughts, he moved his head. Your lips separated with a smack and the moment you didn’t feel them on yours anymore, you craved more. The softness of them, his tongue sloppily massaging yours; the taste of his spit. You wanted it again, felt so lost without them until they met the heated skin just below your skin.

“You are so pretty,” Sam cooed, sucking the skin in his mouth. The wetness combined with the warmth made your head spin, your hips bucking forward in a search for more, more, more. What you were met with caught you both by surprise and yet filled you with contentment as the blond pressed you into the mattress, his face now hovering above yours. “Fuck, I know this is fast-“

“Just fuck me,” you whispered back, voice just barely above a whisper. You at least had to try and be quiet in here, didn’t you? After all, Jodi could hear and check up on you again.

Sam didn’t seem to share the same kind of sentiment; the moan that left his swollen lips – you must have bitten down too hard when you kissed – was loud, edging on a whimper. Even his face looked like he was already close to his orgasm, a sliver of drool falling from the corner of his mouth as he took you in.

You wanted to urge him on some more, slowly but surely growing impatient by the slowing pace, yet you didn’t have to. Long fingers found the waistband of your pants, and with one, strong tug, you felt air caress the skin of your thighs. Your breath was just barely able to hitch before your panties found their way to the ground next. Blue eyes were drawn to your pussy, staring at the glistening wet between the plush of your thighs. You bit your lower lip and spread them slowly for him, allowing him a more exposed view of what he was craving.

Sam couldn’t take his eyes off you, the look in them was one you would have never been able to describe. So full of lust and desire. His tongue was now sticking from beneath his teeth, the tent in his pants so obvious it was rewarded by a moan coming from you.

You couldn’t be quite sure what was going on behind those pretty eyes of his, but you definitely felt like he was fucking you with eyes.

“You okay, Sammy boy?” you asked, letting your fingers dance down your own body. You pinched your nipples for him, enjoying the way his eyes followed each and every move. They followed your finger, all the way down to your clit where it now was rubbing gentle circles into the bundle of nerves. You threw a small, breathless moan in his direction, watched how he licked his lips. One time, two times. His cock was twitching in his pants, you could see it strain against the fabric. Even now he looked absolutely delicious. “Don’t you wanna fuck me?”

That seemed to bring the blond back to life. His hand flew to the fly of his pants, shaking fingers trying to slide it down. But it seemed that the zipper tried to punish him for his sudden impatience, getting stuck more often than it slipped down. You watched with an amused look in your eyes, yet if you had to be honest, this was killing you. It felt absolutely amazing to be desired in such an open, shameless way, and yet it was like your pussy was throbbing with agony over the fact that Sam wasn’t acting on it. “Come on, Sammy boy, ah fuck,” you sighed, tilting your head back into the pillow, your hips bucking upwards just as though they were inviting him. His scent was still surrounding you, which only turned you on more.

A moan was to be heard, coming right from the man towering above you. “You clenched around nothing,” he whispered, albeit his words were more stammered than coherently formed. You grinned to yourself, which was harder than it seemed because the pleasure you felt from adding pressure to your sweet little clit had you scrunching up your face. “And to think, all this time, it could have been you.”

Something wet touched your thigh. You did not need to look down to know that Sam had drooled on you, but what you hadn’t expected was to hear a ripping sound. Your head shot up, and you saw that Sam had simply ripped his jeans. The blue fabric hung loosely around his hips now, though not for much longer. Without even a moment to blink, you could hear the sound of Sam’s cock smacking against his stomach.

Your throat tightened upon seeing it; it was big and red with how hard it was. A piercing adorned the drooling tip, and if you looked closely, you could see globs of pre-cum dribble down the thick shaft, kissing the pulsing veins along the way. “Finally- Fuck!” You gasped out, spreading your legs wider in an attempt to accommodate the red tip that was prodding at your entrance already. “Gonna be..shit, you’re..suckin’ me in so good, baby,” he breathed, closing his eyes in a desperate attempt to at least regain a small amount of composure. But your cunt – holy fuck, your cunt was pretty, so, so, pretty – sucking his tip off so well… how could he? He couldn’t, because there was no composure left.

His knuckles turned white as he slowly pushed forward, pierced tip entering you, just for his shaft to stretch you slowly. The movement of his pale hips was accompanied by a low moan that tore from the place of heated pleasure you felt deep within you. He had to stop- just had to. He was about to cum, fill you up despite not even being halfway in. You simply sounded so sweet, and your squishy walls were so wet, so welcoming. So… tempting.

That was why it wasn’t his fault! It really wasn’t – not at all. His hips did what they wanted, shoving forward quickly before he could stop himself. The moan that filled the room now came from two bodies but entered the air as one. Sam was big. Stretching your walls in an almost uncomfortable way, especially since he reached so deep. Your world seemed to spin; the only thing you could actually focus on was the face of pure pleasure above you. A thin layer of sweat had formed on his forehead, strands of blonde hair sticking to his face. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, eyes searching yours.

The bright blue sea had turned into a dark one now, and you could have drowned in them. If there had been the time.

Sam pulled out of you, only a little at first, just to thrust forward again. His eyes still were plastered on your face, gauging your reaction. You sucked in a sharp breath through your gritted teeth. Another thrust; again he was still filling you up almost completely, just to thrust into you, bottoming out. This thrust felt better than the first one, much better. And fuck, his pretty, pretty face. He was focused, working hard to not just lose control. You could see it in the way he was staring at you, in the way he bit his lip hard enough for it to draw blood. His brain might have switched to standby, but he still didn’t want to hurt you. Even if he felt like a bitch in heat right now, your comfort was his highest priority.

“Sam-“ you breathed as another short thrust filled you up. The sound of his name mixing with pleasure leaving your sweet mouth, swollen from the kisses you had shared, it all was too much. He had seriously attempted to take it slow, but his hips moved faster than his brain could think.

He leaned down to kiss you again, and this time you could not only taste his saliva but also the metallic taste of blood. You sucked on his lower lip, feeling a sudden emptiness threatening to wash over you. That feeling didn’t last long, though as Sam quickly fucked his dick back inside of you. Short, deep thrusts had now become long ones, and his hips moved fast enough to make your body bounce. Your tits jumped along with his fast rhythm, not that you cared. All you cared about was the feeling of being so perfectly full, of having his lips press kisses all over you. “So fuckin’ hot, ya know that? Listen to your pussy, baby- fuck you’re suckin’ me off,” he gasped, one hand moving beneath your thigh to push it towards your bouncing chest. The stretch his girthy dick caused was long forgotten, and again you felt the desire to have more. Lucky for you, Sam was happy to deliver.

His hips humped into you with a fast speed – the blonde wasn’t one to thrust hard, but he did thrust deep. The squelching sounds of your cunt trying to suck his wettened dick back in whenever he left you filled the room, just like Sam’s whimpers and whines of your names. He tried to busy his mouth by leaving wet spots all over your body, here and there he even was able to focus enough to suck a hickey into your flesh. Yet you doubted that it was to stay quiet; you yourself didn’t even care much anymore.

You moaned his name shamelessly, your hands finding the fabric of his shirt, fingers twisting into it. You were sure that your nails dug crescents into the skin despite the thin layer of protection, but even if you did, it didn’t seem like Sam cared. Quite the opposite, actually. Lapping at your nipple through your shirt, his hips pounded into you what he had tried to tell you before.

That he found you amazing, absolutely gorgeous. That he wanted you and needed you to be his. Even though no words were shared, your body seemed to understand, nonetheless. Working with Sam, your hips bucking up to allow him deeper. “Such..such a good girl,” he praised, the faltering of his voice, however, was a clear enough sign that he had long lost all senses of control. His dick was fucking you fast, the bed beneath you creaking dangerously, but why should he have cared? Fuck, he wanted to fuck you through the mattress, break the damn bed, too. It didn’t mean he would have stopped. “Sam!” Your moan was now high pitched, eyes clenching close. You were nearing your climax; the way you clenched around him only proved it further. It was like your pussy was scared of him to stop, trying to prevent him from slipping out of you before you could get your sweet release.

Sam was in quite a similar position. His eyes for once had left your face, now following how well your cunt took his dick. Watching how you swallowed him whole, and how he pulled out with some more wetness covering his pulsing dick. He wasn’t sure if it was his precum or your wetness, maybe it was both. What he did know was that he wanted more. Despite his balls already pulling tight, he sped up his hips. Hands clinging onto your body to refuse you all opportunities to escape, he humped into you as if his life depended on you. Droplets of spit from his lolling tongue landed on you, but they didn’t get the string of moans and begs that now left your mouth to cease.

Suddenly, it was there. Grabbed you, threw you in the air. Your toes curled, your back arching upwards as you tried to chase Sam’s dick with your hips, your eyes rolling back in your skull. Your orgasm pulsated through you in a way that made your face and legs feel numb, and still feel the pounding into your cunt.

“Fuck, go- where do you want me-“

You were barely able to form the words that described the desperate, hot need you felt. His dick was twitching within you, and you knew he was dangerously close to the edge. Sam was panting now, his head slowly falling back. Your high was still lingering, yet the perverted need that filled your head needed to be spoken out.

“Fill me up,” you begged, your voice barely above a strained whisper, but it was enough for the blonde.

A sharp slam forward made the bed creak and the headboard slam into the wall, though the feeling that washed over you distracted you way too much. Ropes of hot cum filled you up, marking your bullied walls as Sam’s property. His head was still thrown back, his thighs twitching as he whimpered your name, voice a pitch higher than normal, and yet he shamelessly exposed what you did to him. The load that filled you up was much more than anticipated, and yet it was the only thing that could have filled the pit in your stomach that had been feeding on greed and lust for Sam.

Panting replaced the sound of skin against skin, the sound of moans as the blonde finally pulled you out, biting his lower lip when he saw some cum drip from your pretty cunt. He dropped down next to you in exhaustion, one arm immediately wrapping around you.

“Fuck,” the two of you breathed in unison, just to share a laugh. Sam smiled at you, tiredly, but also contently. You gave him a small smile back, before pressing your lips together in a last, sleepy kiss.

You had slipped out through the window with Sam after the blond had helped you clean up. He had removed any trace of dried spit and cum that he had been able to find, even though it had been much to your dismay. The walk to your farm had been quiet, but a silence that was comfortable. Your hand was wrapped in Sam's, the blond carrying a goofy smile on his tired face. The sun had just begun to rise when Sam and you shared another kiss on the front porch of your house, promising one another to meet again the very same afternoon, and Sam had left your farm both feeling giddy and totally exhausted.

He slipped in through the window of his bedroom, just barely able to get the sheets off of his bed when he heard someone clear his throat behind him. Turning around, he was met by his mom. One of her arms was crossed over her chest, the other held up a bra.

“Samson,” she began, one brow cocked. “I thought I raised you better.”

Blood shot in his cheeks, his brain whirring as he tried to come up with a way to explain things, but Jodi just shook her head.

“Hiding a nice girl like her; she deserves better than that, Samson! Here. I put her bra in the wash and dryer, so at least be a gentleman this time and give it back to her.”

He felt like the blush that had blossomed on his cheeks had now wandered to his lips, making them too heavy to speak. Instead, he stared at his mom, with his mouth open.

Jodi rolled her eyes, throwing the bra at him. “You know, there was a time when I was young, too,” she said, already turning to leave his room. Sam looked at the piece of clothing in his hands, swallowing thickly.

“Oh, and Sam?”

It was the first time he had been able to speak: “Yes, mom?”

“Next time you do “push-ups”, be quieter. Or maybe visit your gym buddy.”

#sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley farmer #stardew valley smut #sdv fanfic #sdv sam #sdv sam x reader #smut #fanfic

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marigoldendragon · 5 months ago

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Thinking of how the Twst boys would go trying to take a bra off their partner for the first time. Mild spice

Riddle - He'd struggle. He's too emotionally constipated for intimacy at first.

Cater - Easy enough. Man was SMOTHERED by his sisters growing up. He'd be desensitised to all things feminine, it's just another piece of clothing to him.

Trey - It wouldn't be smooth sailing, but he'd just casually laugh at himself and continue what he was doing.

Ace - He'd be nervous but otherwise it'd go smoothly. He thanks his past self for learning all that slight of hand. Dexterity +1

Deuce - He'd be red faced and taking it so seriously. He'd blue screen once he finally gets it off and sees whats underneath.

Leona - Man's ripping that thing off with his teeth. R.I.P bra.

Ruggie - Mr pickpocket would have *zero* problems getting it off you. Dexterity +5

Jack - He'd struggle so much. Not only would his nerves get the better of him but his giant hands are not used to such delicate tasks.

Azul - Another one where his emotional state would impair his hand eye coordination. Don't laugh at him he'd never recover.

Jade - If he knew there was a possibility of such an event happening he would come prepared. Has no difficulties with the task.

Floyd - Man's ripping that thing off with his teeth 2.0. R.I.P another bra.

Kalim - He'd struggle with it, but you guys would have fun laughing about the situation anyway.

Jamil - He's probably helped Kalim get dressed in fancy clothes a lot. Dealt with plenty of fiddly buttons, clasps, toggles etc in the past. Smooth sailing for him.

Vil - Mr world famous model, actor, fashion expert? The most gender non conforming person in the whole school? (except for maybe Lilia). Not only would taking a bra off you be easy you'd probably leave with a better quality one than you came with. (He'd magically make it your size. Great sevens you've never had a bra ft so well)

Rook - He'd take forever with it. Not because of a skill issue, he'd just want to savour the moment.

Epel - Would have practiced/watched tutorials beforehand. Wants to be a smooth operator when the time comes. Be impressed by his manly skill.

Idia - Man would be having massive performance anxiety issues. Please be gentle with him. (He'd be bragging about his skills later online though)

I feel weird including Ortho in this. Skip!

Malleus - There's a possibility of him getting in his own head about having to deal with unknown 'human' clothing. Wouldn't be an issue though, he'd just magic it off you.

Silver - He's calm and steady. Even if he's got butterflies in his stomach he takes it slow and has no problems.

Sebek - Yet another emotionally constipated one who's head gets in the way of their hands. Takes him a minute. Probably blushes and averts his gaze like a scandalised housewife when he finally sees the tiddy.

Lilia - hahahaha Man has that thing off you before you even realise he's reached for the clasp. Dexterity +100

.... you know what I might include the staff this time. Although they're all adults who have presumably encountered bras before XD

Crowley - Mans won't shut up. Keeps droning on and you wonder if he's ever going to make his move only for you to discover your not wearing a bra anymore. When did he do that?

Crewel - If he's taking it off you it's likely just so he can put some other fancy lingerie back on you.

Vargas - Hands too big and muscular. Accidentally breaks it in the process. Another for the bra graveyard.

Trein - He's had a wife. Man knows what he's doing.

Sam - Quick and deft with it. This man FUCKS

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southtopaz · 24 days ago

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PSYCHO KILLER - SCREAM

Summary: in which Iris Morris has to navigate her personal relationships while surviving a psycho.

Warnings: Fem!reader, angst, violence, swearing, mention of death, Tara Carpenter x Fem reader, multiple parts, slowburn.

Word count: +5k

A/n: this part will follow the events of Scream 6 but it will take place two years later from Scream 5. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical mistake.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

Iris stared at her reflection in the mirror, adjusting the collar of her makeshift Men in Black costume. The black suit felt too tight, and the sunglasses slipped down her nose. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the ridiculousness of it all. Once upon a time, the idea of going to a party with her friends would have excited her, but now the thought only made her feel uneasy.

She had Tara to thank for her current predicament. For the past two weeks, Tara had relentlessly bugged her about attending the frat party, her enthusiasm almost palpable through every text and conversation. And here Iris was, caught in a swirl of frustration and reluctantance, walking down the street with Tara, who looked radiant in her pirate costume, complete with a white shirt that showed her shoulders, a delicate gold neckclace, and a stylish headscarf. Honestly, she looked way too hot and Iris was having a hard time at pretending like she didn't notice it. She hated to admit it, but for the last thirty minutes, she'd been avoiding looking directly at Tara, fearful that if she did, she wouldn't be able to stop.

"I can't believe you convinced me to come to this stupid party," Iris muttered, trying to suppress a grin at Tara's playful smile.

"I've been told I'm really good at convincing," Tara replied, her voice dripping with mock seriousness.

"I don't think you're that good," Iris shot back, attempting to maintain her irritated facade.

Tara stopped in her tracks, causing Iris to halt beside her. The shorter girl leaned in, a special glint in her eyes. "Don't make me bring the big guys," she teased, her tone low and mischievous, clearly enjoying the moment.

Iris felt the corners of her mouth twitch upward, but she quickly shook her head. "Just don't do that thing," she gestured to Tara's face, her tone a mix of annoyance and fondness. "You know, that thing you do with your eyes."

Tara paused, her expression shifting to mock confusion as she lowered her eyelids and pouted, exaggerating the look to the point of absurdity. "What thing?" she asked, batting her lashes in a way that was almost comical.

"Ugh, I hate you," Iris groaned, unable to suppress her laughter any longer.

"Love you too!" Tara chirped, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

The distant sounds of music pulsated through the trees ahead, a vibrant invitation beckoning them closer. Yet, as they moved forward to the frat house, Iris still felt a nagging uncertainty. She glanced at the dark shadows that lined the path, the branches casting eerie shapes on the ground. Each small rustle made her heart race, and she found herself instinctively leaning closer to Tara, who kept her grounded with an easy confidence.

"Oh, hey, Tara!" called a guy in a Blackmore College jacket. He had black long hair, and a neatly groomed mustache.

"Jason," Tara greeted, her voice brightening. "Are you and Greg gonna come to the okb party?"

"Well, if he finishes his Spanish project in time, yes, we will," Jason said, raising his eyebrows with a hint of optimism. Then he turned his attention to Iris. "Hi, I'm Jason, you must be..."

"I'm Iris" her tone slightly awkward. "Nice to meet you"

Jason gave her a tight lipped smile before looking back at Tara once again, his smile widening. "Is your sister coming?"

"No way! Sam wouldn't be caught dead at a frat party," Tara chuckled, the very idea making her giggle.

Jason shrugged innocently,"There's a first time for everything," he replied, his voice laced with an overconfident nonchalance. Iris shot Jason a wary glance, picking up on a sense of arrogance that made her gut twist.

"Not tonight, though," Tara said firmly, beginning to pull Iris away from the conversation, eager to get to the party.

"Can't convince her?" Jason called after them, his voice teasing.

"No. That's not my problem, that's yours!" Tara shouted back over her shoulder, laughter mingling with the distant music.

"Save me a drink!" Jason's voice faded as they walked further down the sidewalk.

Once they were a safe distance away from the party, Iris turned to Tara, her brow furrowed with curiosity. "So, does Jason know Sam?"

Tara shrugged, her eyes darting back to the thrumming crowd they had just escaped. "Not really."

Iris tilted her head, an eyebrow raised in suspicion. "Don't you think it was a little weird that he was so interested in getting your sister to come to this party?"

"Jesus, Iris," Tara said, exasperated. "Not everyone is out there to get us."

"I know that but he was really strange,".

"It's Jason, for crying out loud! He's just a guy from my film studies class. Of course he's weird!" Tara replied, a playful smirk creeping across her face. "Maybe he has a crush on Sam."

"Yeah, or maybe he's plotting a murder. You know, a typical Friday night," Iris quipped, her tone half-serious, half-teasing.

"Okay, stop." Tara abruptly came to a halt, gripping both of Iris's shoulders with a firm yet gentle hold. "Iris, I know that you and Sam are the presidents of the Paranoid Fan Club, but I brought you here today so you could chill out. You two have been on edge for the past two years. It's time to let it go."

"Okay, rude. I'm not paranoid!" Iris shot back, feigning indignation.

"Yes, you are!" Tara countered, rolling her eyes. "I get it, but you have to start living, too."

"I know," Iris huffed, crossing her arms defiantly. "I'm living just fine, thank you very much."

"Are you, though?" Tara asked softly, her voice dropping to a more serious note. "Can you try to see it from my perspective?"

In a playful act of defiance, Iris crouched down, mimicking Tara's height. "Yeah, I can try," she said, struggling to keep a straight face.

"You are so not funny, you fucker. We were having a moment!" Tara protested, her frustration only half-hearted.

"I can't hear you from way up here," Iris replied, a teasing lilt to her voice.

"I'm going to punch you in the face," Tara said, though a smile threatened to break through her stern demeanor.

"You'll have to tiptoe to get there. It's cute, really," Iris laughed, her spirit lifting.

"Well, I don't have to tiptoe to punch you in the gut" Tara shot back as she smiled sarcastically. "Keep it up and you might find out"

"Love it when you talk dirty to me" Iris grinned, wrapping an arm around Tara's shoulders as they resumed their walk toward the house. The cool evening air was refreshing, and for a moment, the weight of their worries seemed to lighten. If only she had noticed the way Tara's cheeks flushed with warmth at the closeness.

The music thumped through the speakers, reverberating through the crowded frat house, where colorful lights flickered and danced along the walls. A bunch of faces, flushed with excitement and enthusiasm, swayed to the rhythm, their laughter punctuating the air. The scent of spilled drinks and food mingled with the sweet, fruity aroma of mixed cocktails, creating an atmosphere that was both chaotic and exhilarating.

Iris stood near the kitchen counter, where a makeshift bar had been set up. The countertops were cluttered with half-empty bottles, mixers, and stacks of red cups. She took in the scene, people dancing with their costumes on, some attempting to impress one another with their moves, while others lounged on the couches, engrossed in animated conversations. She had to admit, she was having more fun than she originally thought she would.

"So, on a scale of one to ten, how fucked you guys want to get tonight?" Mindy asked as she lined up four shots on the kitchen counter.

"Hopefully a ten!" Anika exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious as she grinned widely at the group. With that, they raised their glasses in unison and downed their shots, the liquid burning their throats as they swallowed.

Iris gagged dramatically, her face contorting in an exaggerated grimace. "God, that was awful! I'm going to go make a drink. Does anybody want one?" she declared, wiping her mouth and shaking her head in disgust at the harshness of the shot.

"I'll take one!" Tara called out, a grateful smile on her face as she leaned closer to Iris. As Iris turned to leave, Mindy shouted after her, "When did you become such a pussy? That wasn't even that strong!"

Iris shot her a middle finger over her shoulder, a smirk tugging at her lips despite the faux indignation. "Maybe my taste buds just have standards bitch" she called back, making Mindy snicker as she tried to stifle her laughter.

"Yeah, yeah, you're just weak". After Iris was out of sight, Mindy leaned in conspiratorially. "So, Tara, any hopes for tonight?" she asked, her eyebrows wiggling suggestively while wrapping an arm around Anika.

"Just have fun, I guess," Tara replied, a hint of confusion crossing her face as she tried to understand the underlying implication.

"Not planning to make a move on Iris?" Anika teased, her eyes sparkling with hope.

Tara laughed nervously, the sound a mix of embarrassment and surprise. "Why would I... I don't... I..." she stuttered, her friends bursting into laughter at her flustered state.

"Look, all I'm saying is tonight would be a great night to do it. Ask her to dance!" Mindy encouraged, her voice playful yet earnest.

"Iris hates dancing; she's going to say no," Tara protested, shaking her head as she glanced at the girl, who was now distracted by the antics of a group trying to recreate a viral TikTok dance.

"She would say no to everyone but you," Mindy replied. "She has a soft spot for you."

"No, she doesn't,"

"Yes, she does!" Anika and Mindy chimed in unison, laughter bubbling between them.

"Just test it out," Anika said, her eyes darting toward Iris, who had returned with drinks. "She's coming!"

Iris handed a brightly colored drink to Tara. "Here you go!" she said, a smile breaking across her face.

"Gotta say, Iris," Anika whistled teasingly, "That suit definitely looks good on you. Like, if I didn't have a girlfriend, I'd be jumping you right now."

Iris erupted into laughter, her face lighting up as she turned to Mindy, whose expression was one of mock horror.

"Okay, I think I just threw up!" Mindy faked gag. "You're my girlfriend; you're supposed to say she's ugly!"

"But I would be lying!" Anika countered, unable to hold back her giggles.

"God, I know. Unfortunately, you look good Iris," Mindy added dramatically, tossing her hands up in defeat. "Get out of my sight!" Iris laughed, waving them off playfully.

"What about you, Tara? Do you think Iris look good?" Anika asked intentionally, a spark in her eyes.

"Uh, yeah, definitely," Tara stammered, her eyes widening as the focus shifted to her.

"Now you're just being nice," Iris teased, nudging Tara playfully.

After a bit more lighthearted banter, Mindy and Anika made their excuses to leave, but not before Mindy shot Tara a knowing wink, leaving Tara feeling nothing but anxiety. Once they were alone, Tara turned to Iris, her heart racing. "So, umm, wanna dance?"

"Dance?" Iris snorted, her disbelief evident. "I'm terrible at it. I hate it."

"C'mon, it would be fun!" Tara urged, extending her hand with a hopeful smile.

Iris hesitated, searching Tara's eyes for a moment. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she relented. "Fine." Tara's heart soared at Iris's unexpected agreement, though she hid her surprise well. Maybe Mindy was right after all.

They stepped onto the dance floor, and Tara instinctively reached for Iris's hand.

They started to sway to the music, the soft melodies wrapping around them like a gentle breeze. Iris watched Tara move with an effortless grace, her body swaying fluidly, each motion as natural as breathing. Tara's laughter blended with the music, her eyes sparkling with joy, and Iris felt a rush of admiration with a hint of longing.

Iris tried to mimic Tara's movements, but her attempts felt clumsy and awkward. She felt stupid, her limbs stiff and uncoordinated, each sway a far cry from Tara's elegance. Dancing had never been her strong suit, and tonight was no different.

In a playful moment, Tara twirled Iris around, and they both burst into laughter when Iris stumbled slightly, inadvertently stepping on Tara's foot. The laughter felt infectious, washing away Iris's insecurities, if only for a moment. "I told you I'm terrible at this!" Iris exclaimed, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"I don't care," Tara replied, her voice light and warm. "I just want to dance with you." With that, Iris spun Tara around in return, her heart lifting at the sight of Tara's radiant smile. It was a small victory, yet it filled her with a sense of confidence she hadn't expected.

As they resumed their swaying, Iris couldn't shake the tension in her body. Each attempt to move in sync felt like a losing battle; her nerves made her movements feel rigid and forced. She found herself wiggling awkwardly to the beat, struggling to find a rhythm that felt natural.

"It'd help if you'd loosen up, ya know?" Tara chimed in, her giggle light and encouraging, cutting through the din of the party.

"How?" Iris shot back, a hint of desperation in her voice as she glanced at Tara, hoping for guidance.

"Simple! Just grab my waist," Tara suggested, stepping closer and reaching for Iris's hands. She guided them slowly to her waist, their bodies inches apart, the warmth radiating between them. "Like that," she whispered, her breath brushing against Iris's ear, sending shivers down her spine.

Iris felt her heart race, the world around them fading into a blur as she focused on the closeness, the sensation of Tara's body against hers. There was an intoxicating thrill in that moment, a rush of something deeper than just dancing. Tara's arms slipped around Iris's neck, pulling them even closer, and Iris found herself entranced, her body instinctively moving to follow Tara's lead.

As they swayed together, time seemed to stretch and bend, the music becoming a soundtrack to their connection. Iris couldn't tear her gaze away from Tara's face; the way her eyes lit up with laughter, the curve of her smile, the freckles in her cheeks, it all made Iris feel dizzy with awe. With each subtle movement, the tension began to dissolve, and for the first time, Iris felt the music seep into her bones.

"See? You're doing amazing now," Tara said, her voice warm and encouraging.

"I think it's the teacher, really," Iris teased, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

Tara's laughter was like a melody of its own, filling the air around them. Iris felt emboldened, her confidence building as she matched Tara's sway, letting herself get lost in the rhythm.

Tara started playing with Iris's tie, twirling her finger around it absently. She looked up to find Iris staring intently at every part of her face, an expression full of curiosity with something deeper. Feeling a surge of boldness, Tara decided to bridge the gap between them. With a playful tug, she pulled on Iris's tie, drawing their faces closer together.

"If you keep pulling my tie like that, you're going to mess it up," Iris warned, her voice teasing but laced with an unmistakable hint of nervousness.

"Do you want me to stop?" Tara asked, her heart racing. With another gentle tug, she closed the distance further until their noses were almost touching, the air between them charged with anticipation.

"Not really," Iris admitted, her eyes sparkling with desire. In a swift motion, she grabbed Tara's hips, pulling her even closer until their bodies pressed together. The warmth radiating between them made Tara's breath hitch, and she brought her hand to tangle them into Iris's hair.

"You know? Anika was right," Tara said, her voice low, but the words felt heavy in the charged atmosphere.

"About?" Iris's voice barely rose above a whisper as their breaths mingled in the warm air, creating an intimate bubble around them.

"You look really good today." Tara's eyes sparkled with genuine admiration, tracing the contours of Iris's face, from the gentle curve of her cheek to the way her hair framed her features.

"Just good?" Iris raised an eyebrow, a teasing lilt in her tone that sent a thrill through Tara.

"You look hot." The words hung in the air, and Iris's smirk widened, a special glint in her eyes. Tara couldn't help but glance down at Iris's lips for a moment, the urge to close the gap between them almost overwhelming.

"I just..." Tara began, her heart pounding as she searched for the right words, but her thoughts scattered when another voice cut through the moment.

"Iris, no way!" A ginger-haired boy in his twenties called out, his presence sudden and bright. Iris snapped out of her trance, her smile transforming instantly upon recognizing him.

"Damon! What are you doing here?" she exclaimed, her excitement evident as she turned to face him.

"I would never miss a party." He flashed a charming grin before his gaze shifted to Tara, an apologetic expression crossing his features. "Was I interrupting?"

"No, no, don't worry," Iris insisted quickly, a deep blush covering her face. "Mmm, this is my friend Tara."

"Hi, I'm Damon," he said, offering a warm smile that made Tara feel both welcomed and slightly annoyed. "You mind if I steal her for a second?"

Tara tried to hide her disappointment, her throat tight. "Not at all," she managed, though the words felt hollow.

Iris smiled at her, genuine and bright. "I'll see you in a bit, okay? Thanks for the dancing," she said, her eyes lingering on Tara's for a heartbeat longer.

"Yeah, no worries," Tara replied, forcing a tight-lipped smile, her heart sinking a little.

As they turned away, she heard Damon's voice carrying over the music. "I have so many people I want you to meet." They disappeared into the room, laughter and chatter swallowing them up.

Tara stood there, feeling a tightening in her chest that made her uncomfortable. She didn't know who this Damon was, but the ease between him and Iris showed that they were close, she just didn't know how much.

She had the best medicine for heartache, alcohol.

Iris was engaged in an animated conversation with Damon and three of his friends, her laughter ringing out as she gestured enthusiastically, when Anika suddenly burst into the scene, her face showing distress.

"Iris, we need your help like right now!" Anika exclaimed, grabbing Iris's hand and tugging her away before she had a chance to comprehend the situation.

"What's going on?" Iris asked, confusion flickering across her features as she tried to keep pace with Anika's rapid strides.

"It's Tara," Anika replied breathlessly, her voice laced with concern.

They quickened their steps, weaving through the crowd of students until they reached the dimly lit hall. Just as they arrived, Iris's heart sank as she caught sight of Tara ascending the staircase, her laughter echoing softly. Beside her was a tall guy with tousled brown hair, his confident posture and relaxed demeanor suggesting he was much older than Tara, a fact that sent a wave of unease through Iris.

"Hey, Tara, come here!" Iris called out, her voice firm but laced with tension. She clenched her fists, a protective instinct surging within her.

"Sorry, we didn't catch that," the older guy replied, flashing a condescending smile that only deepened Iris's frustration.

"I think you did." Iris spoke as she felt herself growing angrier every second.

"No, Iris. It's fine," Tara said, her voice slightly slurred as she leaned heavily against the railing for support, struggling to maintain her balance. "I'm just gonna get a drink and then I'll be right back." She took a wobbly step down the stairs. "You should go back to what you were doing," she added, attempting to sound casual.

"See, Iris? She wants to," the older guy said mockingly, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he flashed a triumphant grin. He reached out and grabbed Tara by the arm, making her stumble, her footing faltering as she tried to regain her balance. He kept on dragging her back up the stairs aggressively and Iris's anger finally erupted.

"Don't fucking touch her!" Iris yelled as she punched the guy straight in the face, he stumbled backward and lost his footing, crashing to the floor with a heavy thud.

"You bitch" he shouted, holding into his bloody nose as he stood up, but before he could fully regain his composure, Iris was already on him. She lunged forward, her hands gripping the fabric of his white shirt, the material cool and smooth beneath her fingers. Her heart raced, fueled by an urgent need to protect Tara, whose faint shouts urging her to stop barely registered in her mind.

"Please, Iris, don't!" Tara's voice trembled, but it felt distant, almost muffled by the pounding in Iris's ears. She could see Tara's worried expression over her shoulder, but all her focus was on the guy before her.

"Do you think you can just push her around like that?" Iris gritted through her teeth, her voice low and intense. "You enjoy taking drunk girls to your room, you fucking perv?"

"You're ruining the fun, you could've joined us if you weren't crazy".

"Touch her again, and I fucking kill you" he growled at Iris's threat, punching her with a force that sent her stumbling back. The sudden impact disoriented her for a moment, and she could feel the crowd around them erupt into a frenzy of shouts and gasps. She was pretty sure her lip was busted, but instead of showing any pain, a defiant smile spread across Iris's face, a bold expression that seemed to catch him off guard.

With adrenaline pumping through her veins, Iris lunged forward, her body propelled by anger.She closed the distance between them in an instant, driving him backward into the wall with a forceful thud. He gasped as his back hit the hard surface, his eyes wide with surprise and fury, but Iris was undeterred.

As she held him against the wall, she caught sight of the fear creeping into his eyes, and a small part of her reveled in it. The expression on his face shifted from confusion to pain as she drew her fist back and unleashed it with all her strength, landing a solid punch against his nose. The blow echoed in the air, a sharp crack that punctuated the tension surrounding them.

"You're insane" he shot back, incredulity lacing his voice, which faltered as Iris tightened her grip.

Iris leaned in, her breath barely above a whisper, low and deliberate, ensuring he could hear every word. "You have no idea, lay one hand on her and you'll find out"

Just in time, Chad strode into the room. The moment he spotted the boy making another move on Iris, a protective instinct surged within him. Without hesitation, he positioned himself directly in front of her, his posture radiating defiance.

Chad's jaw clenched as he locked eyes with the boy, who glared back defiantly. In an instant, the confrontation escalated; both men began shoving each other. Tara went to Iris to drag her away from the scene, she was still in shock from what the other girl just did.

Sam burst into the room, her eyes quickly scanned the scene, as she was assessing the turmoil unfolding before her. "Sorry to interrupt. I'm just gonna tase you in the balls real quick." He fell to the ground in pain. "Don't ever lay hands on my sister"

"You fucking bitch! Fuck you". All eyes were on her now.

"Sam! Are you fucking kidding me? You're stalking us now." Tara angrily said as she ran outside.

"Holy shit, it's that psycho girl". a guy yelled, as everyone started taking pictures off Sam, Iris quickly grabbed Sam's hand and both of them stormed out of the house.

They were chasing after Tara, who seemed to be trying to get away from Sam as fast as she could.

"Tara." Sam called after her, "Will you stop?"

"I cannot believe you did that!" Tara hissed. "You embarrassed me!" Then she pointed at Iris. "Don't even get me started on you, what the fuck is wrong with you? You punched him and now you're bleeding".

"I don't care, he deserved it"

"That guy was a dick," Sam defended Iris and herself immediately. "I'm glad Iris was there to stop him, he was going to take advantage of you"

Tara threw her arms up in exasperation, her frustration palpable as it hung in the air like a thick fog.

"So?" she challenged, her tone sharp enough to cut through the tension surrounding them.

"So?" Iris echoed, disbelief etched across her features. "You're drunk, Tara, you can't give consent" Iris felt her jaw tense, the muscles tightening as she fought to suppress the urge to lash out. The heat of the moment clawed at her restraint.

"If I want to hook up with an asshole, that's my decision!" Tara spat, her voice rising with indignation. She glared fiercely at the girls, a defiant fire blazing in her eyes. "That's my decision!"

"Okay," Sam replied, rolling her eyes with an exaggerated sigh.

"No problem," Iris interjected, her tone clipped. "Just do it when you're sober." The suggestion hung in the air, thick with irony.

"It's not about you!" Tara snapped, pivoting to face her sister. Her voice was edged with bitterness. "You're out of my life for five years, and now you can't leave me alone for five minutes!" The words came out like venom, each one a reminder of the distance that had long defined their relationship.

Iris's gaze flicked over her shoulder, noticing that the others Chad, Ethan, Mindy, and Anika had followed them outside, standing at a distance. They looked like deer caught in headlights, uncertain and awkward, the weight of the confrontation palpable.

"Because you're not dealing with what happened to us," Sam interjected bitterly. "Have you even gone to see the counselor yet?" There was a sharpness to her words, a frustration born from unaddressed pain.

"No, I'm not going to—" Tara started, but Sam cut her off.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm uninterested in living in the past like you are," Tara admitted, her voice trembling as if each syllable was a weight pulling her under.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam's brow furrowed, confusion and hurt mixing in her expression as she searched for understanding.

Tara hesitated, her eyes darting, as if she were struggling to articulate the storm brewing inside her. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, as the tension between the sisters persisted.

"Guys, come on," Chad interjected, sensing that the escalating situation was about to reach a boiling point. He stepped forward, his expression earnest as he aimed to diffuse the situation. "Stop arguing." His voice cut through the heated exchange.

"It means I'm not going to let what happened to us for three days define the rest of my life!" Tara shot back, her eyes blazing with defiance. The youngest Carpenter's voice cracked with raw emotion as she continued, "Therapy might work for you and Iris, but I don't need to keep revisiting the past every day." Now, Iris knew that it was true but she still couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt deep within her. It wasn't her fault she still had trouble adapting to her new reality full of mistrust and pain.

"So you're just going to pretend it never happened?" Sam asked, her tone laced with disbelief after a heavy silence hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

Tara let out a weary sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of the world rested upon them. "What are you doing here, Sam? In New York?" she asked, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. "You're working two shitty jobs just to help pay for... whatever. But what's your plan? I know what I'm going to do, okay? I'm going to keep going to college, I'm going to get my degree, and I'm going to live my life. My life. Okay? You just followed me here and won't let me out of your sight." The words poured out with exasperation.

"I'm just trying to look out for you," Sam replied, her expression shifting to one of dejection.

"I know. I know you are," Tara responded, her voice softening as she met Sam's gaze. "But you can't do it for the rest of my life. You have to let me go."

"Hey!" a voice called out, slicing through the tension that filled the night air. Before anyone even got the chance to react, a cold drink was being thrown at Sam, soaking her shirt. She recoiled in shock, her eyes wide as the icy liquid dripped down her skin, sending a jolt of surprise coursing through her.

"Murderer!" The girl shouted, her voice dripping with venom, eyes blazing with accusation. The crowd around them paused, curiosity piqued by the sudden commotion. Iris felt a surge of anger rising within her; she instinctively stepped forward, fists clenching at her sides, ready to confront the girl. But Mindy was quicker, stepping in front of her with a firm hand on her chest.

"Calm down, no more fighting," Mindy urged, her tone laced with urgency. She could see the fire in Iris's eyes and knew that a confrontation would only escalate the situation further.

"What the fuck is wrong with you bitch?" Sam screeched, her voice a mixture of disbelief and fury. She struggled against the hold of her friends, the adrenaline pumping through her veins as she tried to lunge toward the girl, but they held her back firmly.

"You guys should stay away from her," the girl declared, her voice rising above the crowd. She pointed a finger accusatorily at Sam, her expression one of disdain. "She knows what she did."

"I didn't fucking do anything!" Sam shot back, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Step closer if you're so brave bitch!". Iris shouted, her protective instincts kicking in, her heart pounding. Instead of responding, the woman merely flipped Iris off, a smirk on her face as she turned on her heel and continued to walk away.

The air felt thick with unspoken emotions as the group stood in stunned silence, grappling with the unexpected aggression.

"Hey its okay, calm down". Mindy said as they all started to walk back.

Sam, still fuming, turned to Iris, the fury in her eyes mingling with despair. "I'm so sick of this shit"

"I know Sam, I know".

#scream #scream 5 #scream 6 #scream x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x female reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #sam carpenter #mindy meeks martin #chad meeks martin

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night-night-stories-before-bed · 2 months ago

Text

A horned protector

Warning ⚠️ ; Cursing, mention of past character death, abuse of alcohol, blood.

Pairing; none, reader is inside a male body

Summary; You don't enjoy it, and neither do the brothers, but the three of you are stuck together because of their father. John Winchester outsmarted you, binding you in a deal to watch and protect his sons. Well, only Dean. And tonight, you are doing just that.

Ps; I did not mean for this story to be this long. Hope y'all like a long read!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Being a demon wasn't always easy or fun. For example, you were stuck with two hunters who despised your existence and wanted nothing more than to kill you! So why stick around? Because their father had outsmarted you on a deal. You were still mad about it.

You had known and tormented John Winchester for years. You used to have fun stalking him during his hunts or just following him and messing around. You could remember that time you followed him on a vampire hunt, exaggerating everything; the sneaking around, the search for clues. You even put on a Sherlock Holmes costume!

Oh, how John hated you! He even once tried to run you over with the Impala. It was good memories. Well, until that night when John summoned you specifically on a crossroad. It was shocking and unexpected.

You could still remember the seriousness and solemnity in his eyes as he made his deal with you. That upon his death you would watch and protect his sons against Azazel. Well, mostly Dean. For some reason, John had put an emphasis on protecting his eldest boy. But there had been a trick; that he could still make a deal with another demon if its meant protecting and or saving his sons.

You hadn't believed it would happen. It was so precise!

And then it did.

John Winchester had died and the deal had to be followed.

It had been a few years and you had failed not once, but twice. Sam had been stabbed to death and Dean had made a deal, ending with his soul being dragged into hell. Yes. You had failed miserably and it was pitiful. You had given your all even when the boys had tried to kill you, you stayed around to watch over them, but it was as if an outside force had been against you.

It intrigued you, especially now that you had learned about the so-called ‘prophet’ the brothers had met and who was a writer. That Chuck had written about their life, even about you, which had been both a surprise and shock with how accurately he had been describing some events. It also made you wary. What other capacity did that man have? Could he hurt Dean and Sam?

Those thoughts were on your mind as you walked toward the brother’s motel room. The Impala was parked in front of it, guiding you in the right direction. The boys were hunting something, you didn't really pay attention to what, for the past week. They were lost in the middle of Texas on a full moon and you could tell it impacted them differently.

Sam, bless his heart, stayed happy and festive researching their monster restlessly. You hadn't seen him for the past two days but knew he was fine thanks to Dean.

Dean who was the one taking it the worse. While he kept smiling for his little brother you saw the emptiness behind his eyes, the way he clenched his jaws and how his nights were filled with nightmares. Dean didn't know you knew as you came only when they slept by fear of either getting shot or stabbed.

Well, except tonight.

You had gone out of your way to get the boys more supplies for their hunts after seeing they were getting low. Silver bullets and knives, salt and you even braved the Church to get some holy water, burning your hand on the process. But it was a small price to pay if it could help keep the Winchester brothers alive.

The bag hanging on your shoulder, you moved your free hand to unlock the door the the brothers’ room, calling for Dean.

- “Hey pieface, guess what I got for y'all!”

You barely finished your sentence when a shadow mover in front of your eyes. You barely had the time to duck, dropping the bag, before pain exploded in your face.

Hand clenched tightly around Dean’s wrist, your demonic eyes stared at the eldest brother with both amusement and pride. You chuckled as you forced Dean to remove the knife from your cheek. A few inches more and you would have dropped death.

- “My, my! Look at the mess you are making Dean.” You said, your demonic eyes turning to the blade as blood poured out of your opening cheek. You could feel the flesh hanging against your jaw, exposing your teeth. “Better clean it up before Sammy comes back.”

- “What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean asked, snatching his wrist out of your grip.

- “Bringing you some gift!”

You bowed down, grabbed the bag and shoved it in Dean’s arms. You watched him walk to the table and drop everything on it. You could smell the scent of alcohol clearly, almost as if you had the bottle right under your nose. You frowned, watching closely as Dean examined everything.

The eldest brother was clearly tipsy now that you watched more attentively. You clicked your tongue annoyed with how careless Dean was. You knew how he had a lot on both his shoulders and mind, but the bottle wasn't the answer. Yet, you said nothing, your eyes looking around to see the bottles of beer and other alcohol around the room.

With a wave of your hand, you moved them all together before proceeding to clean. You felt Dean’s gaze staring holes in your back and almost laughed, but didn't. You just remembered what day it was.

Today was the anniversary of John Winchester’s death.

You sighed softly as you put the last bottle in the trash back before turning your attention to Dean. He had dropped down on the bed, feet hanging from the mattress and his back turned to you. For a second you imagined him as a small pouting child, which he kinda was. You didn't want to know just how bad the situation would turn out when Sam would come back…

You left Dean pouting on the bed and went to take care of your face. Grabbing a needle and some thread you stitched your cheek back together before taking off your shirt and washing it in the sink. You didn't want to trigger Sam with the smell of your blood, knowing how hard the boy had worked to get ride of his addiction.

Clean, you walked out of the bathroom to get ride of your blood that had fallen on the ground. Still on the bed, Dean stared at you, eyes clouded by the alcohol. You clicked your tongue like a disappointed father before looking at him.

- “You are on a hunt, Dean. Why are you drinking like that?”

- “Fuck you. Get out of our room.”

You rolled your eyes and threw away the blood-soaked tissues before making a knot in the bag.

- “Yeah, I will. For five minutes. I’ll be right back.”

Carrying the trash bag, you went outside. The air was heavy and humid and there was no breeze. You saw no one else outside and yet still felt like you were being watched. Frowning, you hurried to throw away the trash. Looking around you, you couldn't see anything alive. Not in the trees or on the ground nor in the sky.

But the feeling was still there.

You weren't alone out there.

Grinding your teeth, you went back inside and locked the door. The sound had Dean sitting on the bed staring at you angrily.

- “What the fuck are you…” Dean tried to ask before you interrupted him.

- “Shut up. We are not alone and something was outside watching me.” You said, grabbing a shotgun and throwing it at him. “Get ready, I bet its about to get messy.”

That was enough to sober up Dean who grabbed the gun and got up, joining you in the middle of the room. Your eyes were glued to the window even if the curtains were closed. Next to you, Dean was calling Sam to tell him to come back as quickly as possible.

He didn't mention that you were there.

Outside you heard the gravel crunching as something walked around in front of the door and window. Immediately Dean raised his gun, ready to shoot if anything tried to enter. You waved your hand, turning off the lights, trying to make you two as discreet as possible. You could still see clearly, unlike Dean.

The sound of footsteps became quieter until then silence was all that was left. Dean’s breathing was the only thing you could hear and neither of you moved nor dropped your guard. It wasn't over, you knew it. Whatever was outside had watched you and saw where you went.

It knew you were in there.

You moved, ever so slightly, keeping Dean behind you. Whatever that thing was, you didn't want to take the risk for Dean to be hurt. Not only because of your deal with John but also because Dean had been drinking. His reflexes weren't going to be as fast as normally.

- “Oi fucker, what are you doing?” Dean asked, voice barely audible.

- “Honoring my deal with your father, pieface.” You replied with a chuckle.

The next seconds passed in a blur.

The sound of broken glass filled the room as a growl broke the silence of the night. A shadow jumped between the curtains ready to pounce on you and Dean. Without thinking you raised your hand and sent the thing flying against the wall. Dean didn't lose a second and immediately shot at it.

The monster moved before any bullet hit it.

Knowing what was to come, you turned your attention on Dean. With the same trick, you sent Dean flying out of the room by the broken window. The young man screamed and you smiled as the creature tackled you to the ground, fangs and claws digging in your flesh. You didn't scream, fingers finding the thing’s eyes and pushing them deep.

Warm blood pulsed and rolled down your hands and wrists as the creature howled in pain. You didn't let go and kept digging, feeling the eyes break under your fingers and nails scratching the bones.

You gasped and coughed as blood and brain matter splashed all over your faces. The sound of a gunshot echoed in the room and the corpse fell on top of you. Groaning, you pushed the carcass off top of you and sat, disgust painted all over your face. You turned your attention toward the window where Dean stood, shotgun still pointed on the dead creature.

- “We need to go, now. Cops won't be long to get here and I don't want to have to explain this mess. Grab everything, I’ll get the car ready.” Dean said before walking away.

Not questioning him, you did as told. Within a minute you had gathered all the brothers’ belongings and the things you had gotten for them. The next, you sat next to Dean as he drove you away to go get Sam. The silence was heavy and even you didn't dare say a word. There was something, like a fragile balance, between the two of you. So fragile that a single sound would brake it and make Dean snap.

Which happen even if you didn't said a word.

The eldest Winchester hit the break and before you could ask what he was doing, his fist collided with your already injured jaw. Then another fist followed and another. It took you a few seconds to realize that Dean was crying, his whole body shaking with each sob. You couldn't make out what he was saying, but guessed he was cursing you like always.

You didn't defend yourself, allowing Dean to just let it all out until you finally caught a few words. Your fault. Didn't do enough. Abandoned us.

He wasn't hitting you.

He was hitting what you represented.

No.

Who you represented.

His father who hadn't been present. His father who had been so hard and rough on him and who, in the end, had died before they could talk about everything. John had died leaving Dean without ny closure.

Dean hadn't been drinking because he was sad, but because he was angry.

After a few minutes, you gently grabbed Dean by the shoulders and he stopped. In your hands, you could feel his body shaking with every sob. If you could still feel emotions, the sight would have broken your heart. But you were a demon. You had lost your humanity a long time ago.

You both kept quiet. Dean by shame, you because you didn't know what to say. Dean drove away until you came across a familiar car; the one Sam had used to go to the library. You stopped again and Sam jumped in, abandoning his car. The door was barely closed that Dean was off again.

- “What the fuck happened to you?” Sam asked you, leaning between your and Dean’s seat.

- “Got a visit from your friend. I don't think he loved me much!” You said jokingly, waving your hands to show your wounds. “Sorry for the smell sweetheart.”

- “Anyway. What are you doing here?” Sam asked after a few seconds of silence.

- “I came to give y'all a bag of ammunition and other things y'all could use during your hunts. I saw how low you were on your inventory.”

Sam looked at you in surprise and suspicion. Of course, the youngest would wonder if you were doing it for another reason than to help. He looked at his brother, expecting Dean to deny what you said, but when his brother said nothing, Sam simply nodded and thanked you.

Slowly, they were learning to trust you. After all, you never lied to them, not even once. And in the future, you would be the only one to do so. Unknown to you three, there would be even more tragedy and danger to come, but you would be there, always.

You would be their horned protector until it killed you.

#supernatural #x male reader #male reader #x gn reader #gn reader #dean winchester #x reader #fanfic #reader #sam winchester #angst #demon

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waywardcrow · 11 months ago

Text

Timeless.

Chapter IV.

Summary: 1943. 1975. 2024. Three different decades, three different lives, three different times your life and Bucky's interwined; he lost you twice, will he do it again?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader.

TW: It can change each chapter but themes of Bucky as soldier and as the Winter Soldier in general, flashbacks and dreams in italics like this, lots of feels, reader's being a little anxious, some stalking lol, a brief sex scene (p in v), very bad written smut, implied domestic violence (not from Bucky), murder mentioned, past lives, past 40'sreader is mentioned to be named Beth but that changes for 2024 version of her so I nicknamed her little bird for Bucky, Ace for everybody else, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.

Disclaimer: Please remember english is not my first language so if I make a mistake or forget something let me know.

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Previous chapter <;<<

You were fired, that wasn’t a surprise.

Mia Alexander didn’t sue you for every penny you had, that was shocking.

But getting a call from Pepper Potts herself, that was the real main event of your whole life.

She asked you to go and pay her a visit at her office in the Avengers tower, like if that didn’t send you in a spiral of bliss and terror, what will you wear? What could a woman like her want to talk with someone like you? Even if Sergeant Barnes –Bucky, you reminded yourself- told her what had happened in the gala, she might be mad at you.

Your head begun to think in the possibilities all the way there, considering that this was the reason why Mia didn’t sued you, maybe Pepper Potts would do it.

When you finally arrived to the tower your stomach was in knots, not even your lucky outfit made you feel better but like every other day in your life you sucked it up and walked to the front desk.

“Hi, I’m here to see Miss Potts?” you said, making it sound more like a question and the receptionist stared at your vintage midi skirt and blouse like he understood your hesitation. You offered him a smile before telling him your name so he looked for it in the screen in front of him and gave you a visitant pass.

“Third floor, follow the hall, last door in your right” he said and then went back to his screen.

“Oh, ok, thanks” your neck was hot with embarrassment when you reached the elevators and just became more evident when you got in and someone else did too.

“Good morning, third floor too?” Scott Lang, THE Scott Lang, asked you and you could only nod like an idiot. He did a double take on your face and smiled “hey, I know you; you are the girl who throws champagne at evil bosses.”

You were turning purple, it was a sure thing.

“What?” it was all you said.

“Yeah, the other night you did an incredible stunt, Sam told us everything” so Captain America knew too, great. Scott must saw something in your expression because his changed “is ok, seriously, when we hear what she did no one blamed you for it, I was sure Hope was about to kick her ass and don’t let me start with Yelena” your head was spinning “I think it was brave and more subtle than ruining your boss company and driving a car to his pool”

That earned a strangled laugh from you.

“Are you going to see Miss Potts too, Mr. Lang?” you asked when the elevator doors opened again and you walked with him.

“Actually I’m going to see Maria Hill but I’ll see you later” he smiled at you with such honesty that you relaxed for the first time in all day, making your way to your destiny you noticed the front desk for Miss Potts assistant was empty and you were just on time which was as good as being late.

Without not knowing what to do, you knocked at her door.

“Come in”.

Taking a deep breath, you did it squaring your shoulders and trying to tell yourself everything would be fine.

“Good morning, Miss Potts, I hope is ok I called, there was no one and-“

“It’s completely fine” she said gesturing for you to sit in front of her and went to address your formally even if contradicted her next words “Please call me Pepper, everyone does.

There was something about her, a professionalism that was inspiring but also made her approachable and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Only if you call me by my first name too”

“It’s what you like to be called? Because Sam told me about your friend calling you Ace when he went with Sergeant Barnes to the hospital, I think it fits you” at her words it was impossible not to blush again; first of all because of the mention of Bucky, the recurrent thought of your head the last days and then because of the nickname Harper gave you.

“I mean, yeah, my friends call me that” it was an exaggeration, you only had one friend.

“Maybe we should stick to it, between me and you Pepper is not even my name but I think is perfect for me” there was something like nostalgia in her eyes but she didn’t let you think too much about it “and I like that my employees feel comfortable when we talk.”

“Excuse me, what?” it was really embarrassing how you couldn’t form a decent sentence in front of her.

“I would like you to be my assistant, Ace” she said and then your life really changed.

Bucky still could tasted you, the other you, the one who reincarnated and was born in a rich Italian family in 1950, the one that somehow found him when he was The Winter Soldier.

He wasn’t supposed to fuck you in your fiancée’s car, well ex fiancée, you couldn’t marry a dead asshole. His mind couldn’t know why he needed you that bad but his body did, Bucky was sure it was the conditioning what made him be such a caveman with you but the truth was, you were his mirror back then.

You wanted him since Lucas bragged about his connections to Hydra and how they lend him their best asset to protect the arsenal his father’s company will provided for them. Your whole attention was in the silent assassin who looked at you like you were everything he could ever want.

Lucas wasn’t great with you, his little bird, that’s why he snapped his neck and took you away, sometimes his nightmares will let him breath and remember you surrounding him, riding his cock, high in pleasure, telling him that you loved him before you both were found and he was dragged back to Hell.

As a small blessing, he didn’t remembered that while dreaming, Bucky was too lost on you, in the salty taste of your skin against his tongue when he traced the valley of your naked breasts with it.

“Give me one more, little bird” he ordered, thrusting in and out of you with an incredible skill considering the small space “drench my cock again.”

His english was perfect with you, no sign of hesitation, not remembering he wasn’t supposed to speak it so naturally when it wasn’t necessary; the Brooklyn accent showing up without effort.

“I- I can’t” you sobbed, drunk on him, your body asking for more.

“You will” his metal hand let go your neck to play with your clit, the cold metal sending you to your climax once again, taking him with you.

The softness of your skin against his was the last thing he remembered before waking up.

Harper called you when you got back home and screamed when you tell her the news; she made a joke about coming to work with you so she could see Sam Wilson every day, making you feel better. Since you convinced your parents go and have the retirement they deserved, Harper was the only one you had and she was more than what you deserved but sometimes you wished for more, for someone to go home to.

Like a fool, your mind went to Sergeant Barnes; you needed to thank him for what he did for you.

If not for him, you would have be ruined but how could someone put that in a thank you card?

Maybe you could bake something for him.

Bucky likes apple pie.

The thought came out of nowhere with an intense hint of pain between your eyebrows, what was that?

Maybe a nap would help, your new job waited for you and this was the chance you dreamed of, ruining it wasn’t an option.

When Bucky went to check on you that night, you were already sleeping in your couch, making very difficult for him to let you there. Of course he could break in and carry you to your room without waking you up but it would make you feel unsafe.

It was hard for him to go back to a civilian life, or the closest he could have, his actions needed to be careful, especially around you. It was also torture he remembered almost everything and you nothing at all, that he couldn’t tell you about that night on your porch in 1943 or your breakfast with him, Steve and the Howlies when your unit was sent to Europe and destiny brought you both together again, he couldn't tell you about that time in Italy.

Bucky wanted you to know everything but you will never believe him, in the best case you'd believe it was a joke or a proof of him losing his mind but you could also believe him dangerous –which he was- and get away from him where Bucky would not be able protect you.

Sited there in your fire escape, he started to memorize every part of you he could see through the darkness, if that was all he could have from you, he would make it be enough.

Tag list: @cjand10 @bunnyforhim @cookingdancingchick

Next chapter >>>

Hello lovelies! Sorry for bringing this short chapter, I tried to start going through their past lives but witout giving so much details so this don't gets very confusing, if it still is please tell me so I can work on it, what de you think? I'll love to read about it in the comments!

Love, Lily.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fluff #40s bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst

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igotanidea · 2 years ago

Text

Time off : Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Request: can you write something super fluffy with Dean? Like a day off of hunting or so?

Hope you'll like it anon.

Warning: slight innuendo, couple referrals to the events in the show, but no spoilers (seriously, if you don't know it, go check the "pudding scene" :D )

***

Dean Winchester was not afraid of ghost, monsters, angels, devils, genies or any other kind of monstrous creatures. How could he? The hunter blood in his veins was an effective method of keeping his fear at bay at all times.

But…..

Sometimes, very rarely, after a particularly hard case and fighting, he was brutally reminded that despite everything he was only human with all the weaknesses that came with it. Normally he would just shrug it off, patch himself up, get some sleep and move on to another mission. Keeping appearances of the rowdy boy, charming his way with the characteristic smirk and deflecting emotions by using sarcasm and dry humor. More often than not it was his brother’s sake. Someone had to do the dirty job, and he was not going to let Sammy get his hands dirty.

Or at least that’s what he thought when he and his brother started their crusade. But it’s been quite a few years ago and now he was just tired. Just that. And moving forward despite everything.

He was used to being alone with the weight of the world on his shoulder, carrying it like some sort of martyr. No asking for help, not forming friendship or any real long-term relationship. One night stand? Sure, absolutely his style. Dragging a woman into his messed up life? Nah, thank you very much. Even those, who were fairly experienced in the hunting field could not withstand it and that was Dean’s greatest failure and guilt, even if he would never admit it out loud.

And then, Y/N came into his life. Or rather, slammed into it.

And it was not in the way anyone may suspect. Y/N was not just another victim of supernatural occurrence who the brothers tried to safe. Quite the opposite actually.

She was Sam’s friends from the law school. Only that Sam never graduated and she did. This fierce and sarcastic girl was one of the most insightful and brave people Dean has ever met. And in his job he met a lot so he had quite the comparison. And on top of all her skills, she was very knowledgeable of the specifics of Winchester’s legacy and family business. From the first day she met Sam she knew that the boy was hiding something, probably running from the past. Silent observation, a few tricky questions and some digging were enough to rim the younger brother and force him to confess. All in absolute confidentiality of course. They were best of friends, not afraid to confide in another and not afraid to just be themselves. Obviously Jess did not like it. But she had very little to say when she died in fire and Sam was dragged back into the past and joined his brother, leaving Y/N behind. For three years . And just like that, they met again by some crazy accident. Winchester’s found themselves investigating a case in one of the countless cities and much to their surprise found counselor Y/N doing pretty much the same. And to even bigger surprise she was doing crazily good, getting information neither of them ever could. They made quite the team, so she tagged along, joining brothers. Being a pain in the ass, as Dean was so kind to describe. Deep inside however, he liked that girl and perhaps was slightly jealous of the fact that she was so good in the same field as he. Sam went even as far to ask him if he was afraid of competition. A mistake he only made once.

Y/N was dealing with all the inconveniences and obstacles with stubbornness and analytical mind. And Dean soon found himself falling for her. And worried about her safety. And acting like an idiot saying a lot of harsh and untrue words just to discourage her and made her leave for good. Guess what? She did not.

One day, Sam came back to the motel the three were staying in and walked right into a very heated argument, filled with screaming, door slamming and throwing things at each other. Followed by a week of not talking and sulking. It was impossible to work with those two. Good thing the younger Winchester decided to knock some sense into his brother’s head. Accidental, arranged meeting in the middle of the night resulted in shy kisses which quickly turned far less innocent when Y/N and Dean ended up in his motel room indulging in some other activities than hunting. Poor Sam had a really rough night and barely slept (thin walls, people!), but despite the teasing he gave the couple he couldn’t be more glad they finally resolved the case and confessed true feelings for each other.

And that backstory brings us to this day.

Sometimes Dean was just tired. And she knew exactly when those moments were coming and were always ready to make him feel better.

“Ok, that is enough.” She advice in the most stern voice anyone has ever heard from her, walking into the bunker’s main room.

“We’re actually in the middle of something….” Sam started

“Get out Sam.”

“But…..”

“Do you really want to me to start figuring out what case you’re not telling me about. ‘Cause this is not gonna end up nice for you.” she warned

“We’re not hiding anything…..”

“Shall I remind you I’m a lawyer? You are skilled in deception Winchester, but you cannot fool me. Now out!” her index finger pointed at the door and Sam had no choice but to obey. Sometimes Y/N was scarier than any creature met during the years, not that he was going to point that out.

“Are you on your period sweetheart?” Dean grinned

“I’m sorry?” she raised an eyebrow

“You look like you wanted to kill him. Cramps?”

“Do you really want to find out?”

“Nah. Thank you. I’ve had my fair share of dying and coming back to life.”

“Right. Cannot deny your experience in the field. Being raised from perdition by the angel of the god surely does ……”

‘Y/n”

“Oh what the hell now.” Y/n turned around only to be met with another extraterrestrial creature in a distinctive trench coat.

“Y/N” he repeated

“Well hello Cass.” She rolled her eyes “what brings you, well, down to Earth if I’m allowed to use that expression.

“You called my name.” he pointed out

“No I did not.” she opposed

“Yes. You did.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, even if I did, since when are you the one to answer the phone? From what I know you show up and disappear as you please.”

“that is not true” Castiel looked above her shoulder, eyes fixed on Dean.

“At least this time you keep personal space” Winchester pointed out, chewing on his sandwich

“Do you guys want me to leave you two alone? I can smell heavy bromance in the air….”

“What is bromance?” Cas tilted his head in confusion

“Y/N…..” Dean warned “don’t you dare…..”

“Why not? why don’t we educate our little wingy friend on some modern terms?”

“He’s big enough to do it by himself”

“Really?” the girl raised an eyebrow “are you speaking from experience”

“I don’t understand what you two are talking about….”

“Get out Cas!’ both of them shouted at him and with the slightest shrug, bit of confusion on his face and flapping of the wings disappeared.

“Do you think he is actually going to check what bromance is?” Y/n wondered

“Not a chance”

“That’s a relief. Knowing Cas he would want to experience it in real life.”

“He’s got undeniable chemistry with Crowley so how about that” Dean smirked but despite the irony and humor he was using he could not hide the tiredness and worry reflecting in his eyes. “You wanted something from me?”

“I just came to say hi.” She moved forward and snuggled next to him “haven’t seen you whole day.”

“Hi baby” he replied kissing her forehead “I’m sorry, but you know how it is. The work…..”

“You need rest, Dean.”

“I don’t…..”

“I’m not accepting refusal, honey” Y/N cupped his cheek “let me take care of you. Please. You’ve had enough. Let me get you to bed.”

“You just can’t wait to get your hands on me, hm? I;m not opposed to….”

“Shut up you idiot!” previous tenderness and care was replaced by a smack through his head

“Hey what happened to let me take care of you?” he whined

“On second thought maybe you don’t need it that much if you’re up for dirty jokes.”

“Ok, point taken. I’ll be good, I promise. Scout’s word.”

“You were never a scout.”

“Honorary one. Witness in the person of Bobby.”

“Sold” she smiled and resumed doting over her boyfriend “My poor boy” she moved closer and locked arms around him, hugging so tight, so close, with so much love and affection. “we can just stay here.” Her voice was partially muttered since her face was buried in his chest. “we don’t need to do anything. Just be. ”

“I want nothing more but …..”

“No, Dean. No buts.” She opposed shaking her head “We’ve cracked 12 cases in the last two weeks. Saved hell lot of people….”

“Why does it still feel not enough? Like I could do more……”

“Dean…..” she whispered looking up, cupping his cheek and brushing it softly.

“I’m sorry baby. I’m being grumpy.”

“What’s new” she grinned “guess I’m not the one on period after all.”

“You should have left when you had a chance….”

“Sure. Unfortunately one stubborn bad boy made it impossible.”

“Bad boy, huh? What’s his crime?”

“Heart stealing.” She whispered meeting his eyes

“I’m sure he keeps in the safe place where it can’t get hurt.” Dean moved his head slightly to kiss the palm of the hand still resting on his cheek “I could never……”

“I know.” she assured

“Besides, it’s not stealing if you captured mine. I would rather call it an exchange.”

“I like the sound of that. “ she smiled lightly “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“ Let me save you today. For once, let me be the one to protect you from the monsters in your mind.”

“It’s not…..” he started but she did not let him finish.

“Just let me…..” she whispered again and her voice held so many emotions all he could do was nod in agreement. Giving in to her completely. “Come with me”.

All that happened after seemed like a beautiful dream he did not have in weeks. Intertwining their fingers Y/N led him to the coach on the other side and made him lay down, never ever stopping gentle caress on his back and shoulders. It was so comforting and calming that when she moved away to get the blanket Dean grabbed her wrist, eyes pleading not to leave him.

“Relax, baby” she kissed top of his head, her heart breaking a little “I’m right here with you. Not going anywhere. Just can’t risk us getting cold.”

“Us?” he frowned a bit

“I just told you I’m not leaving.” She laughed lightly stretching as far as possible to reach for the rug without falling of the bed and without letting go of his hand “So yes, us. Think we can fit under that?”

“I think you will have to get closer to me.” He muttered, arms wrapping around her making her squeal.

“How… how close?”

“Closer.”

“Closer than what?”

“Just closer.” He whined lying head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat.

“Ok.” She responded, shifting positions, one hand on his back, rubbing circles there, other running through his hair. “I love you Dean.”

“I know sweetheart….”

“Say it back, you fool….” She pleaded, absolutely overwhelmed by the peace his presence brought her. Just him, doing nothing. Relying on her, trusting her, not having this emotional wall that separated them from each other way too often. Vulnerable in her embrace, surrendering to her love. Happy tears sprung from her eyes and as one warm drop landed on his cheek he looked up immediately.

“Baby? You know I do love you, please don’t cry…..” slight panic creeping on his face.

“I’m not sad, honey. Just… having you like this…..you don’t even know what it means to me.”

“I love you” he whispered leaning forward “I love you.” chaste kiss on her lips “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“I know.” she smirked “Now, sleep. I’ll keep demons at bay.”

“What about nosy angels?”

“I think I can handle.”

“How about humans?”

“Those are easiest to get rid of. Have you ever heard that song dumb ways to die? Quite an inspiration in desperate times” she laughed and the sound made him pull her in more. Just some time off with her was all he needed and he was going to enjoy this the maximum.

“Can we have some pie later?” he mumbled

“How about pudding? Bet that brings good memories?” she teased referring to the craziest thing he did back in the days.

“Please…..” he groaned “don’t remind me….”

“Oh, I will never let you live it down.”

#supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you

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themusicsweetly · 1 year ago

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Thank you for posting videos, pictures, and the Tribeca panel commentary on twitter. It is much appreciated. 🙏🏻

[ Anonymous #2 asked ]: Sarah, would you mind writing a S701 review since you were at the premiere last night? Don't mind spoilers and you can warn others if they don't want to read. Loved it when you did it before. Thanks!

Hello Anons! Thanks so much for both your asks! I hope you don't mind me combining both your asks.

You're so welcome, Anon #1! I so glad so many people enjoyed my posts about it! I'm very grateful that I've been able to go to these events for several years now. I know that so many of you don't get that opportunity, so I try to do what I can to bring it to you all even if only virtually. Things are always so much more fun when they're shared, anyway. After all, that's what fandom should be about! 💜

For anyone who missed it, you can check out my Twitter page for my full coverage of 92Y and the Tribeca Festival. But here's some GIF spam from my favorite of the videos I was able to capture this week!

Anon #2, yes of course I'll write up a summary of my thoughts. I know you said you don't mind them, but I will try my very best to not include any spoilers in it as I know it really does ruin it for some. But just in case:

~~~POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR OUTLANDER 7x01 BELOW~~~ ~~~SERIOUSLY, DON’T @ ME THAT I DIDN’T WARN YOU~~~

Outlander 7x01, "A Life Well Lost"

As Caitriona + Sam have mentioned previously in interviews, 7x01 picks up right where 6x08 left off. No time jump or anything, which I was really glad for. The opening scene was SHOCKING and used something that I thought was really clever and really rude all at the same time lol. I can tell you that the audience gasped because of it. I feel this bit was extremely effectively done. Caitriona's micro-expressions really made it for me.

One thing that surprised me — and perhaps it shouldn't simply because Outlander has always been full of this — was that there were so many small moments of humor in this episode, despite the obvious dire situation Claire and Jamie are in (but really, when aren't they lol). There's a new small side character that both Claire and Jamie get to interact with that provides much needed comedic breaks. Even Jamie's menacing looks add to this. Claire especially, I feel, gets to use her biting wit (or just straight up cursing) to add some humor to the tenseness. There's one particularly funny scene that takes place on a boat and involves an interrupting officer that I so loved! The entire audience burst out laughing when we saw it.

While Caitriona + Sam were obviously amazing, I'll say the surprising standout actor in this episode wasn't them. I won't say who, but it's someone we're well acquainted with. There are moments straight out of the book that this actor just fully nails. We're so lucky to have such strong actors filling these side character roles and s/he is just fantastic. Their sincerity and conviction sold me completely.

As book readers can probably guess from the title and from where we are in the timeline, we know basically what will happen in this episode — and they to stick pretty well to it. Even so, it is still so satisfying to get to see it played out on screen. Claire's despair, hope, and heartbreak. Jamie's torment, anger, and determination. The relief of it all. It's all played so, so well across Caitriona + Sam's faces and in their line delivery. Sam said during the Tribeca panel that Jamie is perhaps "more frail" in this episode, and I think that can be said for both of them. Despite them being well versed in separation, I think every subsequent one after their 20 year split wears on them more and more. And they both play that so expertly, making the time that we do see them together just that much sweeter. I don't think it's too spoilery to say that yes, they do share several scenes together this episode so dinna fash!

As for Brianna and R*ger, their scenes are pretty well separate from the Jamie x Claire scenes. I don't really have much to say about them, except that they move certain other storylines that will become more important later on in the season forward. And only just so. While it was important to do so, honestly it felt a bit filler-like. That said, I am actually pretty excited for certain arcs for Brianna and Jemmy later on (while also hoping they don't include that storyline for R*ger... sorry, not sorry) and this brought them maybe half a step closer to it.

Other than the moment on the boat I had mentioned earlier, there are two scenes toward the end which I really loved. One was such a sweet moment straight out of the book with some really great book lines that I had very much wanted to hear. it is Classic™ Jamie x Claire, so you know Caitriona + Sam knocked it out of the park. The second is not a book scene (I believe?? I don't remember it anyway), but was a great one for Sam / Jamie. It's how the episode ends and I told a new friend I had met in the Tribeca line that the final moment of the episode reminded me of Batman's cape swooshing over the camera turning everything black. Lol take from that what you will!

Some other random thoughts:

Jamie x Claire are SO. SOFT. They say separation makes the heart grow fonder? Really, it makes those two grandparents softer AND I LOVE IT.

I LOVED seeing Caitriona + Sam's names appear as Executive Producers! The entire audience was singing along to The Skye Boat song and then burst out cheering when that came up.

I really hope Major MacDonald's wig gets snatched by Adso at some point because F him lol

Overall, I'd say I enjoyed the episode. Some might say it's a bit slow, which I wouldn't disagree with. But knowing that 1) they had to get this part over with the tie up the Season 6 cliffhanger; and 2) this is really going to be a jam packed season of action and emotion, I think I'm okay with that. I've heard it from more than one source that 7x02 is even better than 7x01 so I'm really excited! I'm also really excited to meet our newer cast members, as none of them featured in the premiere episode. The Hunters especially will be so much fun to watch!

Hearing Caitriona + Sam speak about not only this season, but their journey with Outlander overall makes me so grateful that the quality is still there after seven seasons. They're clearly still so passionate about these characters and are determined to do them justice in every way to the very end. And I think that most definitely shows up in their scenes. I'm super curious to see if there's anything noticeably different or better now that they've been promoted to Executive Producers. And of course, to see Caitriona's first foray into directing!! Until then, I'm looking forward to you all seeing the first episode for yourselves 💜

#outlander #outlanderedit #outlander 7x01 #sam heughan #caitriona balfe #outlander season 7 #season 7 promo #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser #my edit #92Y #tribeca #tribeca film festival #outlander premiere #a life well lost

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sssammich · 6 months ago

Text

when the world is at your feet | andrea x sam | 27k words (rated E)

Then Sam asks, “Would you like to see me again?”

It’s an odd way to put the onus on her. Certainly more than what those who’ve tried in the past have done. Bold, Andrea thinks, even if it has her tilting her head in thought and arching her brow in challenge. “Do I?”

An amused huff escapes out of Sam’s lips, and Andrea is struck with a sudden urge to kiss (but doesn’t because she’s not a teenager). “I mean, I’d like it if you did. But I understand if this is just a one time thing.”

Sam then takes a receipt from her blazer pocket and a pen before scribbling something down.

“Here’s my number then, just in case you reach a verdict.”

Andrea purses her lips. “Oh, no. Not lawyer humor. I’ll have to seriously reconsider.”

andrea and sam fall into a 'no strings attached' situation. and then, you know, strings happened.

---

special shoutout to @lanimani96 for this beautiful and vibrant art to accompany the fic. please send her all the love for her hard work.

anyway, this is our official @supergirlmayhem entry. thanks to the mods for hosting the event!

thanks for your time x

#rojarias #andrea rojas #sam arias #sgmayhem2024 #supergirlmayhem2024 #sg mayhem #supergirl #lanimani96 #thanks for reading #please let us know how you like the art and the story!!#I TYPOED THE WORD COUNT #it's fine that shit doesn't matter. but it's 27k #i missed a whole 10k which is like the entirety of act 3 so #samfic

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swaps55 · 4 months ago

Text

@jdijwa-blog replied to this post:

Well thats funny. I was thinking about asking at what point did they marry seeing as other one shots mentioned they did. But more importantly: who proposed first? Was there a "proper" proposal or was Sam all like 'screw this let's get married'?

I am so glad you asked.

It's absolutely spur of the moment, late ME3 but before the final push.

It's starts as a joke. Sometime between Virmire and the inquest, once Kaidan has confessed to Joker and they have another late night, "pretend we never spoke about this" conversation, Joker says something along the lines of, "If you'd just get over yourself and tell him I will get ordained right now so you can put us all out of our misery."

He makes good on his threat. Only the organization he gets ordained through is a hanar religious order. (This bit is thanks to @shadesofmauve's hilariously brilliant idea.) He thinks it's just bog-standard human-style 'get ordained online' bullshit - legal but not, you know. Important.

Only an alien has never done this with the hanar, and guess what, they take it very seriously. He gets newsletters. They send him vestments. They assign him a personal attache who regularly reaches out to him. He's not enough of an asshole to cop to the whole thing being a threat joke, so he goes along with it.

Kaidan, however, doesn't budge, so at first it is all for naught.

During the events of ME3, I think Sam gets pretty worked up as he starts to internalize the fact that Kaidan grieved him for two years more or less in silence - almost no one knew about their relationship. And he doesn't like the thought of dying without it written in stone. If Sam is going to be immortalized in the history books, he wants Kaidan's name next to his.

I think he finally voices this aloud, lamenting that there isn't time to make anything official.

Kaidan: Uh. I might...have something for this. Joker, are you still ordained with the hanar?

Joker, whose moment has finally arrived: Let me get my hat.

There are three witnesses: Liara, Tali, and Garrus. They told no one else at the time. It only occurs to them later that neither Sam nor Kaidan actually proposed. They just...did it.

The hanar are thrilled when Joker files the paperwork. Commander Shepard got married through their order. There are posters. Brochures. I bet James Vega finds out via advertisement on the Citadel. Neither Sam nor Kaidan are thrilled, but they put up with it.

After the war they do it more properly. There is a ceremony at the orchard that is meant to be small, but the krogan get involved. It's entirely possible Sam winds up at the altar dripping wet because there was a spur of the moment aquatic rescue of a baby krogan who jumped in the lake.

The wedding nearly creates an international incident with the hanar when they learn Guthra Tulak is presiding, but Joker smooths it over.

#swaps replies #'shoot it again sam' shepard #opus!verse

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piscespixiewastaken · 7 months ago

Note

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Dream & Ponk - Rabbit

@sixteenth-day-event

(Did I totally misread the prompt and have to reword the fic to make it work? No, totally didn’t, no idea what you’re talking about)

(Also, thank you to @simplepotatofarmer for inserting rabbit!Dream in my head. May have accidentally stolen an idea from their Rabbit Run fic. If you haven’t yet, go read Rabbit Run, it’s very good! Can’t stop thinking of c!dream as prey hybrid types now.)

Sixteenth Day Event:

Dream & Ponk - Rabbit

Ponk finds an injured Dream in the woods by his house after a prison break. He’s not one to leave an injured man to die.

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

“So, I’m not the only one Sam decided to fuck with,” Ponk muttered.

The masked rabbit hybrid in front of him shrugged. He stared down at the hand Ponk was wrapping with bandages. He sat on the kitchen chair stiff and uncomfortable. There were more bandages wrapped around his torso and limbs under his trousers. His rabbit ears were heavily bandaged, which wasn’t helping his already damaged hearing. His right foot was missing, a rudimentary prosthetic attached to the stump of his lower leg. Ponk didn’t want to consider the implications of a rabbit hybrid losing a foot. Especially when he knew Dream could shapeshift.

“Seriously, what the hell did he do to you in there?”

Another shrug. Ponk sighed.

“Dream, you’re going to have to talk to me at some point. I can only help with so much if I’m guessing what hurts and what might be infected. You’re lucky to be moving while missing a foot like that,” he chided.

Dream’s ears wilted as he hunched his shoulders in response, as if trying to curl in on himself despite the fabric wrapped around his body. Ponk’s eyes softened.

“Just take your time, okay? I’m not turning you back over to Sam anytime soon.”

“What about the others?” a hoarse voice coughed out of Dream’s throat. “Would you turn me over to them?”

Ponk sighed. He’d been doing that a lot lately. When had the server become like this? His best friend taking his arm over a couple of tokens. That same person torturing their former friend. The Egg corrupting the others and driving them to hurt and kill on a whim. When had it all gone so wrong?

“No, I won’t be. I’m not a snitch, Dream. Have a little faith that I have some sort of conscience after all this,” he huffed, letting out a small, humorless chuckle.

Dream turned away. As much as Ponk would have liked to see Dream’s face, see the expressions he was making… he understood Dream’s desire for privacy. It seemed to have been ripped from him in prison.

The tension building in the room caused Ponk to switch subjects.

“Why did Sam… why did he torture you? Was it supposed to be a punishment?” he winced at the words leaving his mouth. But he also couldn’t help his curiosity. His need to relate to someone who had suffered abuse at the hands of the same person.

Dream flinched. Ponk bit his lip to keep down the concerned reassurance that tried to leap from his throat. Dream wouldn’t want that, not right now.

“It… Sam didn’t lift a finger. Not really. He just… he just condoned it,” Dream mumbled. His voice was so quiet Ponk almost didn’t hear him.

“What? He let… he let someone else torture you? In his prison?” Ponk couldn’t keep the incredulous tone from his voice.

Dream nodded.

Ponk swallowed. He could see Sam torturing someone. Hell, he counted what he went through as torture, and that only lasted a day at most. But to hand someone else the tools and sit back and watch…. That was almost worse.

Just who on the server would feel comfortable to get close enough to Dream of all people to torture him?

“Wh—?”

“It was Q-Quackity,” Dream said, voice breaking ever so slightly on the other’s name.

Ponk frowned. He didn’t know Quackity particularly well. He had seen the other when they had gone to the vault to detain Dream. But otherwise, they barely interacted. The younger man must be power hungry then, enough to try and take something from a man already locked up and unable to touch anyone.

“Huh.” It was all Ponk could think to respond.

There another long silence. The air felt thicker and stuffier by the minute, and Ponk debated opening a window before deciding against it. It would cause Dream to panic more, and Ponk had barely managed to get the young rabbit hybrid to his house after finding him bleeding out in the woods.

Ponk turned back to the masked hybrid to finish off the last bandage. His frown deepened as a line of blood dripped from Dream’s chin.

“Dream, is your head bleeding?”

Dream flinched, before reaching up and dabbing the skin under his mask. His fingers came away red with blood. Ponk watched as the young man’s chest stuttered, his lungs not quite working properly as he began hyperventilating.

Ponk took his hand and held it firmly but gently, rubbing circles on bandaged knuckles.

“I need you to breathe, Dream. It’s all right. You’re okay. I can treat the injury if you take your mask off. Can you do that for me?”

Dream went still, ears flattening against his head. His hands clenching and unclenching repeatedly. He shook his head. Ponk’s eyes softened.

“I promise no one will hurt you, Dream. I just want to make sure it’s not infected, okay?”

Dream was quiet again. For a good moment, Ponk thought he would have to leave the wound alone and pray it wouldn’t become infected.

And then Dream slowly raised his hand to the white disc that sat on his face. He undid the strap and lowered it.

The face that stared down at the ground was covered in scars and burns. As if a hot knife had been dragged across his cheeks. His little nose was inflamed and torn. His whiskers were almost shaved, which couldn’t possibly be good for his stability. There was even a small “Q” dug into the jawline. No part of Dream’s body had been spared the torture then.

Ponk was glad his own face was covered, but he knew his eyes would betray his horror. He quickly composed himself and got to work on the gash in Dream’s forehead, newly opened from whatever activity Dream had done after escaping the Vault. The young man stayed quiet, despite flinching at how close Ponk got. His dull, green eyes never left Ponk’s hands as he worked, and his ears were still pinned against his head.

“Why are you helping me?” The question was unprompted, maybe to deal with the unsettling silence that had fallen over the two of them.

Ponk sat back for a moment. “Because you used to be my friend, Dream. And you’re injured. I don’t actually enjoy seeing people suffer.”

Dream scoffed but remained silent.

Ponk placed the last plaster on Dream’s skin and stood from where he’d crouched beside the other. He stretched his arms over his head.

“Well, that should be everything. You can stay here for the night, and I would highly recommend you do so. I don’t want you to tear open any stitches,” he said, gesturing to a nearby pullout couch.

Dream shook his head. “I… I have somewhere to go. Thank you, though. I appreciate it.”

Ponk wished he were more surprised by the sincerity in that remark. It would have hurt less to hear than the gratitude oozing out of Dream’s voice, how his ears perked up just a little at Ponk’s offer. As if Dream thought he should have died out there alone and afraid.

“Of course, Dream. My door is open if you need anything, all right? And I promise, I won’t tell anyone.”

Dream nodded, strapping his mask back on.

“Thank you,” he mumbled as he pulled his hoodie back on and donned his armor.

He stood from his chair and almost immediately stumbled, catching himself before Ponk could react. He waved Ponk off and grunted as he stepped towards the door. It swung open with a push, and Dream peered out for a moment, glancing at the surroundings. And turning back to Ponk one last time, he nodded his thanks.

And then he was off again, hobbling down the path to the woods nearby.

Ponk stared out the open door to starlit sky above. He sighed, closed the door, and moved to clean the table of bandage rolls and dots of blood. A deep sorrow built up inside him as he thought of the dull eyes of a man he had considered a close friend. And of the maniacal look on their abuser’s face when he’d taken Ponk’s arm. One he probably had when Quackity had taken Dream’s foot.

When had it all gone so wrong?

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

(You thought, oh cute fic prompt, maybe fluff? No, you get angst instead. No comfort, only hurt).

#sixteenthdayevent #c!dream and c!ponk #they were friends your honor #ponk still cares but dream is too paranoid #totally stole simplepotatofarmer’s rabbit!dream idea #it worked with the prompt #rabbit hybrid!dream #rabbit!dream #dsmp #mcyt #<for anyone who has those tags blocked

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