#Sam wanted to be trusted and respected and understood

[keen-eye]

Hello, Dean 🫵

[fatecantstopme]

Not Good Enough

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: You overhear Dean say some hurtful things about you to Sam and decide you need to change, much to Dean's dismay.

Warnings: cursing, mutual pining, mentions of violence, body issues/esteem issues, past trauma, illusions to eating disorders and sexual assault. SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), dom/sub vibes, dirty talk.

You didn't like to think about your life before the Winchesters. Most of the time, it was easier to pretend you didn't have a past--no dark and morbid history to share, no pain and trauma still lingering deep within you.

Sam and Dean were the only ones you'd felt comfortable opening up to, and even that took years. Life had not been kind to you, and the scars on your body and in your mind were the proof.

Eight years ago, your hellish life took a turn for the better, but only after you almost lost it. You'd been walking home after a late night filled with bad decisions, when you were attacked. The man was fast, vicious, and cruel--taking what he wanted from you and leaving you for dead.

As fate would have it, the Winchester brothers were in town hunting a nest of vampires, and had been prowling around downtown waiting for one to make an appearance.

It was Dean who heard your screams, your cries for help, your sobs. It was Dean who came running into the dark alleyway without a thought for his own well-being. It was Dean who dropped to his knees beside your beaten and broken body...who took his jacket off and draped it over you to cover your mostly exposed form. It was Dean who gently scooped you into his arms and carried you to his car...and it was Dean that stood beside your hospital bed until you opened your eyes again.

Sam had eventually tracked down the man who had attacked you. It turned out, he had attacked several other women in the downtown area over the previous few months. Dean had been surprised to discover the man was just that--a man. Not a shapeshifter, a ghoul, a demon...not a vampire or a werewolf...just a man. His status as a human did not, however, make him any more safe from your avenging savior.

You'd never asked Dean exactly what had happened to your attacker, and he'd never talked about it. All you knew was he would never hurt anyone ever again.

It was unlike Dean to trust a stranger, and certainly out of character for him to confide in one, but there was something about you that seemed to draw him in. He felt as if he'd found a kindred spirit in you, someone who could understand him in a way even his brother couldn't.

Once you were on the mend, Dean made you an offer--one you were thankful you didn't refuse. You joined the brothers on their adventures--saving people, hunting things, the whole nine yards.

Overtime, you had become an integral part of their small family unit. Either brother would have died for you and you for them. There had been more than one close call for each of you over the past eight years, and more than one monster brutally slain to protect you.

You were closer in age to Sam, only a year younger than him, but Dean had always been the one you were closer to. Just as Dean had seen a kindred spirit in you, you had seen one in him. He understood you, he respected you, and he cared about you more deeply than anyone in your life ever had.

In the long years you'd spent in their constant company, you'd begun to change. The darkness that lived inside you seemed to fade, as if being near the Winchesters brought a light into your life you didn't know you needed. The mental scars you'd carried began to heal, even if the ones on your skin would always be visible.

There were still days where the darkness would rise within you, dark thoughts rolling through your mind, bringing you to your knees with a pain you could never describe. There were days when you would look in the mirror and hate the reflection gazing back at you--seeing the girl you had once been instead of the woman you now were.

There were moments when you'd forget all the progress you'd made, mind focusing instead on all of your flaws, all of your failures. The worst part was many of them lived only in your mind--you knew no one but you could see them, but that didn't make them any less real to you.

Lately, you had been struggling with self-esteem issues you'd long since buried. You'd thought you'd come to terms with who you were and what you looked like--accepted the body you had. Weight had been a struggle for you your entire life, and for a long time, you turned to terrible habits in order to lose weight and attempt to keep it off.

Those habits had ended eight years ago, but the issues they'd covered did not. Today was one of the bad days. One of the days you stared in the mirror and hated the image you saw--the softness, the curves, the fat. That was the word that kept repeating in your mind, fat, fat, fat.

You tried desperately to block it out, to remember why you loved your body just as it was, but those thoughts wouldn't leave you alone. The darkness inside you was too much to battle, the pain of hating yourself too much to cope with.

You'd been thankful for the bunker the day the three of you had discovered it, but you were even more grateful on days like today. Days you wanted to spend holed up in your room, refusing to face the outside world.

As much as you wanted to lay in bed for the entire day, your grumbling stomach soon became too much to ignore. You knew you needed to eat--there could be no more starving yourself, no more binging and purging--you needed to eat.

You dragged yourself out of bed and tugged on a pair of sweatpants before cautiously opening your bedroom door. You listened for the sounds of either brother moving around. Upon hearing none, you made your way slowly towards the kitchen, intent on making yourself a sandwich and retreating to the safety of your room.

Just before you rounded the corner to head into the kitchen, you heard Dean's low voice rumbling from inside. You froze in place, pressing yourself against the wall, not wanting to be seen or heard. You fully intended to creep back to your room--you really did--but the sound of your name leaving Dean's lips held you in place.

"(Y/N)'s not strong enough," Dean hissed. You could tell by the tone of his voice he was angry, very angry.

"Oh come on," Sam snapped. "She's been doing this for eight years. She's more than capable."

"Are you insane? I mean, really and truly crazy? She'll get herself killed!" Dean's voice had risen in volume and you heard Sam shush him quietly.

"Don't wake her up," Sam chided.

You heard Dean's annoyed sigh and your eyes fluttered closed for a moment. You knew what they were fighting about. You and Sam had a conversation a couple days ago about you hunting on your own. You'd asked for his thoughts and Sam had been honest and supportive. He said you were more than capable of hunting on your own, should he or Dean not be available to go with you. Your hunting skills were certainly not on their level, but if the case was simple enough, you would be fine.

Clearly Dean did not agree with his brother's assessment of your abilities. "She's not strong enough, or fast enough, or physically prepared to hunt on her own. She's just not, okay? She's different from us...she's not built like we are."

"Do you even hear yourself?" Sam asked incredulously.

You bit your lip to keep from whimpering aloud, Dean's words having cut straight through you like a hot knife. You blinked back your tears as you moved as quickly as possible back to your room without making noise.

Dean's words repeated on a loop inside your head, echoing your own darkest thoughts about yourself. Even Dean thought you were too fat, too weak, too useless to do anything on your own. You realized he likely only allowed you to hunt with him because he felt sorry for you--a pitying friendship you didn't ask for.

Despite the irrationality of your thoughts, you could not escape them. You couldn't fight them off, either because you didn't have the strength or because you were afraid they were right. Your mind once again played tricks on you, dragging you down into the darkness--but this time you succumbed, allowing your own tears to drag you into a nightmare fueled sleep.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam and Dean's conversation had continued in the kitchen. Neither of them had noticed your presence, both too upset with the other to focus on anything else.

"Look, (Y/N) is my best friend. Other than you, she's my favorite person...hell, I like her more than you sometimes," Dean confessed. "I just--I don't want to lose her. If we let her go out there without backup and something happens to her, I'll never forgive myself. I'd rather her never hunt at all, but I think she'd kill me if I told her to sit out on a fight just because I'm terrified of her dying."

Sam was quiet for a moment as he regarded his brother. Dean was not known for his vulnerability, nor for sharing any of his deeper emotions, but Sam could see something simmering just beneath the surface--some emotion beyond rage and fear lurked in his brother's green eyes.

"What are you really saying, Dean?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean looked at the floor for a long moment before answering. "When we met (Y/N), I was instantly drawn to her--like a moth to flame. I don't know what it was, but I felt connected to her in a way I'd never felt before. That feeling has only grown in the past eight years and now I can't imagine living life without her. I don't want to imagine it. A world without (Y/N) in it isn't a world I want to exist in."

Sam exhaled slowly, realization crossing his features. It was rare for Dean to care for someone so deeply, but when he did, he became irrationally protective. Sam was painfully familiar with that particular side of his brother's nature. He also knew what it meant, what Dean was really saying--even if he wasn't ready to admit it.

"You should talk to (Y/N)," Sam urged. "Both about how you feel, and about why you don't want her to hunt alone."

"What do you mean, 'how I feel'?"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You know exactly what I mean." He didn't give his brother a chance to respond. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and walked out the door, claiming a need to workout.

Dean watched Sam walk away, and a feeling of mild terror settled into his bones. He'd come very close to admitting how he really felt about you and it scared him. Hell, his feelings scared him. The fact that he was foolish enough to fall in love was bad enough, but the fact that you were the one who'd stolen his heart made it so much worse.

He'd told himself he would never fall in love, never get married, never settle down--this life wasn't conducive to any sort of domestic bliss. Part of him didn't think he deserved that kind of happiness, but the main issue was the danger of loving you so deeply. He knew the risks, knew how it would turn out--bloody, like it always did.

In his mind, the only way he could keep you safe was to pretend all he felt for you was platonic friendship. He could protect you on hunts and his guard would never be down around you, so he could protect you in every way. He'd seen how far you'd come, how strong you now were, and there was no way he would be the reason the world lost your beautiful soul.

No one could ever know the truth, not even Sam. The only way this didn't end bloody was if you never even suspected Dean loved you. No monster would be able to use his love for you against you, no monster would ever hurt you just to get to him. For you, for your safety, he was willing to break his own heart.

**********

It had been three days since you'd overheard the conversation between Sam and Dean. The first two days, you'd remained secluded in your room, claiming a migraine any time either of the boys came to check on you.

This morning, however, you'd woken up with a goal. You showered, got dressed, and made your way to the kitchen. As you were fixing yourself some breakfast, you heard someone enter the room.

"You're up early," Sam said warmly.

You turned to glance at him with a soft smile. "I wanted to get a head start on the day."

Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "You're feeling better, I take it."

You nodded. "Yeah, that headache was brutal." You felt bad for lying, but it was easier to fein a migraine than it was to admit what you'd overheard and the dark thoughts you'd been plagued with.

"Well, I'm gonna go for a run," Sam said cheerfully. "Any chance I could entice you to come with me?"

You laughed and rolled your eyes. "Not unless someone's chasing me."

He chuckled and ducked out of the kitchen, taking a bottle of water with him. Sam always asked if you wanted to join him on his morning runs, but he knew you were unlikely to ever agree. You hated running almost as much as Dean did.

You ate your breakfast quietly, contemplating your plans for the day. You had decided to start a new routine today, a routine you intended to continue until you felt better about yourself or until you could get Dean's words out of your head, whichever came first.

After breakfast, you went into the library to do some reading, intending to allow your stomach time to digest your food. You weren't sure exactly how much time had passed, but Sam had returned from his run, showered, and was now eating his breakfast at the table while scrolling through the latest news stories on his computer.

Dean, unsurprisingly, was still not awake, despite the fact that it was 10am.

You closed your book and stood up. "I'll be down in the gym if you need me," you said to Sam as you crossed the room towards the door.

"You'll--what?"

You gestured towards the hall behind you. "I'll be in the gym."

He looked perplexed, but didn't comment on your sudden desire to workout. He could tell something was a little off with you, but he had the feeling you wouldn't want to talk about it, so he decided to let it go. After all, it's not like going to the gym was something he needed to worry about--it wouldn't kill you (unlike some of your previous bad choices).

When you reached the gym, you looked around and sighed. You'd always hated working out. It was a reminder how out of shape you were and how imperfect your body was. Sure, hunting kept you relatively healthy--you had surprising stamina and endurance, but the weight just never seemed to fall off. You'd begun to feel like your fat was holding some kind of grudge against you, intent on making your life miserable for some perceived slight.

You sighed again and walked over to the treadmill in the corner. You stared at it for a few minutes, deciding whether you really wanted to use it. You'd always hated the treadmill, but you needed to start somewhere, so you hopped on and started to walk at a brisk pace.

Thirty minutes later, you switched to the stationary bike, wanting a change from the monotony of walking. Twenty minutes after that, you were bored out of your mind. You decided to try something else. Maybe lifting weights would do the trick.

About two reps in, your headphones died and you groaned in annoyance. You tugged them out of your ears and tossed them to the floor, opting instead to blast your music loudly through the bluetooth speaker Sam kept down there.

Alanis Morissette's voice now carried down the hall, but you couldn't be bothered to care. She was your go-to when you were feeling angry or upset, her music always making you feel better, especially when you scream-sang along.

After a few more reps, you decided to work on your boxing skills. Sam had taught you years ago, mostly as a way to teach you some fighting skills. You wrapped your hands to protect your knuckles, settled into your stance, and began hitting the punching bag. The release of frustration you felt was almost immediate and you realized you should have just done this from the start.

Upstairs, Dean was just returning from running an errand. He'd woken up and been distressed to find they were out of bacon and beer--his two main food groups. He'd gone to the grocery store to restock and was now happily cooking an excessive amount of bacon for his breakfast.

"You know you should eat something besides bacon, right?" Sam teased him.

"Nothing is better than bacon, Sammy. Nothing." Dean scooped the rest of the bacon onto his plate with a look of glee.

"Heart attack on a plate," Sam muttered.

"Oh shut it," Dean grumbled as he bit into his first piece. He moaned obnoxiously, causing his brother to roll his eyes dramatically. "Where's (Y/N)?" He asked, words garbled by the bacon he was still chewing.

"What?"

Dean swallowed. "Where's (Y/N)? I stopped by her room before I went out and she was gone."

"She's in the gym."

"I'm sorry, she's what?"

Sam shrugged. "She's in the gym. She went down after breakfast."

"Why?"

"I assume to work out," Sam said lightly.

Dean groaned. "Obviously, smartass, but why was she gonna work out?"

"I don't know, dude. Why don't you ask her?"

Dean looked down at his plate. "I will once I finish my bacon."

Sam rolled his eyes, but didn't comment further.

Once Dean had finished his breakfast, he made his way down to the gym, a feeling of dread settling into his stomach. He couldn't really put a finger on why, only that he didn't like the feeling.

As he neared the gym, he heard 'You Oughta Know' blasting down the hallway. He didn't hear your voice over the lyrics until he actually entered the room. He would have smiled at the sight if he wasn't so worried about you.

Your back was to him as you continued to pummel the absolute shit out of the punching bag. Dean had to admire both your form and the power you exuded. But as he watched you, that feeling of dread began to creep higher into his chest, wrapping itself around his heart.

He called out your name, but you couldn't hear him over the music. He spotted the speaker and walked over to turn it off, plunging the room into a shocking silence.

You spun around, surprised to see Dean standing beside the speaker. "I, uhh, I called your name," he muttered sheepishly.

"Oh, sorry. I was kinda in the zone."

He nodded. "Yeah, I noticed. So, uh, whatcha doin'?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Working out...as one does in a gym."

He winced, feeling like an idiot. "I know that, but what I don't know is why."

"Why what?"

"Why are you suddenly working out in the gym for two straight hours? You hate the gym."

You stared at him with an unreadable expression. Your eyes were dark and your jaw was set as you regarded him. "You can't think of any reason?"

Dean thought about it for a moment. "No...hence why I'm asking."

You gestured to your body. "Because I'm not strong enough or fast enough or physically fit enough to hunt...sound familiar?"

Dean winced, eyes widening with realization. "(Y/N), I--"

You held up your hand. "No need to apologize, Dean. I realized you were right. I am weaker than you and Sam, I am slower and heavier and fatter--I am completely less physically capable than either of you. So obviously, I need to do something about that. Hence the gym."

Dean stared at her, anger darkening his features. "None of that is true."

"Of course it is, Dean. You said it yourself. I'm just agreeing with you."

"Of course you're not the same as us, (Y/N), but that has nothing to do with your body or your weight or your ability. We're men, and large ones at that. We're physically built different than you, but that doesn't mean you need to change anything about yourself to be more like us."

"Well clearly I do, or you wouldn't have found my body so unacceptable--you wouldn't have told Sam I'm not capable of hunting on my own."

Whatever thread was keeping Dean from yelling finally snapped. "Your body isn't unacceptable! You aren't weak! There is nothing wrong with you--nothing!"

You were stunned into silence by the intensity of his words. You didn't know how to react or what to say.

Dean sighed deeply, feeling the anger drain out of him at last. "You didn't hear the rest of our conversation, did you?" His voice was barely a whisper, but you could hear the raw emotion in it.

You shook your head.

"You should have stayed...you may have learned something."

"What would I have learned?" you asked quietly.

"You would have realized that your interpretation of my words wasn't at all how I meant them. You would have heard me tell Sam how terrified I am of losing you, how that fear makes me want to keep you out of this life--away from hunting entirely. You would have seen that I love you just the way you are--that I don't want you to change a single thing about yourself. You would know that I am the problem, not you...it was never you."

"Dean..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. "You...you don't need to try and make me feel better."

He stared at you, green eyes full of fire. "I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm trying to be honest about my feelings--to make you see you the way I see you."

"Why now?"

He was taken aback by your question, and it took him several moments to respond. "You know how I feel about romantic attachments...I worry about losing the person I love most, simply because they were unlucky enough to be loved by me. The fear of losing another person I love or have them be used against me is a pain I'm not sure I can bear. But you--you deserve better than my fears. You are the light to my darkness, my reason for living. I can't stand the thought of you believing I think less of you, not when I would burn the world down to keep you safe."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" you whispered, a glimmer of hope sparkling in your voice.

Dean took a step towards you. "If you think I'm telling you that I've been in love with you for years, that I love every single part of you inside and out, that I don't want you to change a single thing, that I think you're perfect...then yes."

You exhaled sharply, breathing ragged as you stared into his soulful green eyes.

He crossed the short distance between you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his body, not caring about the sweat staining your body.

He practically crushed you against him, holding on more tightly than you'd ever imagined he would. After several moments, he loosened his grip on you so he could gaze down into your eyes. A small, lopsided smile graced his lips and his eyes fluttered shut. As his lips grazed against yours, you sighed softly, causing him to immediately deepen the kiss.

His hands dug into your soft flesh, seemingly reveling in the feeling of your body in his arms. His kiss was everything you'd imagined it would be and so much more--you felt safe, loved, and cherished. You didn't know you could have those feelings from a single kiss, but here you were, drowning in emotion, his love the life raft saving you from darkness.

When you finally parted, Dean rested his forehead against yours. "Do you believe me, (Y/N)? Can you see how much I love you? How badly I need you?"

"Yes," you breathed. "I believe you."

He sighed happily, breath mingling with yours. "Will you let me show you?"

You pulled away from him slightly so you could see his face better.

His eyes were dark with hunger, his gaze almost predatory. If you didn't know him, you would be frightened.

"Let me show you, sweetheart," he begged softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Let me show you how much I love your body--how badly I've wanted to touch it, mark it, make it mine. Let me touch every curve, kiss every scar--bite and lick and suck every pleasure point until you're a moaning mess in my arms. Let me make love to you the way you deserve."

No man had ever spoken to you like that, and you felt your toes curl at his words. If he could spark your body alive with nothing but words, you wondered what he was capable of doing with his body.

Your breathing was labored and your voice husky as you murmured, "How could I ever say no?"

Dean smirked and he tugged you to him again, lips crashing against yours. You felt his hands all over your body, clutching any part of you he could reach. His mouth left yours, lips trailing down your neck, nipping and sucking gently against the sensitive skin. He licked the column of your throat and groaned softly, muttering "salty" in a devilishly sexy voice.

You pulled away, suddenly remembering what you'd been doing when Dean interrupted you. "Wait--I-I need to shower first."

Dean groaned in annoyance. "No you don't."

You started to peel him off you with a light chuckle. "Yes, I do. I feel gross."

He pouted adorably. "For the record, I would make love to you on the sparing mat, right here, right now."

You laughed. "As hot as that might be, I really want to shower...I'll even let you join me." You shot him a wink and ran toward the door.

He realized what you'd said and turned to run after you, chasing you all the way to the showers. You giggled when he caught you, tugging you to him to kiss at your exposed neck and shoulders.

"Shower!" you squealed.

He groaned. "Fine, fine."

He practically dragged you into the bathroom, turning away from you to turn on the water before tugging you into the shower with him.

"Dean, our clothes--"

"They'll dry," he grumbled, fingers tugging on your shirt to lift it over your head.

You allowed him to remove it, neither of you paying attention to where it landed as he tossed it out of the shower. He did the same with his own shirt and jeans, followed by your leggings.

He spun you around, so your back was pressed against the cold tile, water spraying across your chest. He unzipped your sports bra and you allowed it to fall to the ground, revealing your heavy breasts to his wanton eyes.

"Fuuuuck," he groaned, lips attaching to your pert nipple.

You ran your hands through his hair as he continued his gentle assault on your breasts. His lips didn't leave your chest, even as his hands trailed down to slowly peel off your underwear.

He slipped two fingers between your folds, collecting your slick and pressing firmly against your clit. You moaned softly at the sensation, head falling back against the tile.

He removed his fingers, slipping them between his lips and sucking them dry. "I need more," he murmured hungrily.

He dropped to his knees and grabbed your right leg, slinging it over his shoulder before you could utter a word. You started to complain that you needed to wash the sweat off first, but he ignored you, tongue sweeping between your folds without a care.

Any protests you may have had were lost as he worked his magic on your pussy. Your fingers twisted into his short hair, head back, mouth open, drowning in the pleasure he was giving you. You were thankful for the tile you leaned against and his strong arms holding you in place as he feasted on you.

Your legs began to shake and you cried out his name seconds before your orgasm hit you, sending you spiraling into bliss. Dean didn't want to stop, but your hands weakly tugged on his hair and your legs began to buckle, so he pulled himself up to keep you from falling.

"Delicious," he whispered against your mouth as he pressed another kiss to your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him closer to you and he shifted to press his body tightly against yours. You gasped as his still clothed member brushed against your thigh and your hands instantly slid down his body to rid him of the annoying fabric.

"Wanna touch you," you begged softly.

He groaned, but pulled away from your reach.

"Dean," you whined.

"Shh, let me wash you first," he insisted.

"But--"

He cut you off with a kiss. "Let me worship you before you touch me--I wanna make this about you."

Your expression softened and you leaned into him. "I love you, Dean."

Your voice was a low whisper, but he heard it all the same. You hadn't said the words earlier, a fact he had been trying to ignore. Hearing you say them now nearly had him throwing all his plans for the next week out the window--wanting to do nothing more than worship you from dusk to dawn for the foreseeable future.

"Dean?" you whispered warily, concern filling your eyes.

He used all his self-control to push his own needs and wants aside. "I heard you, baby," he assured you. "I heard you."

His kiss was gentler this time, sweeter even, and it warmed your body from the inside out. He broke away, panting, a whispered "I love you" pressed into your skin as he made his way down your body and back up again.

After what felt like an eternity, he grabbed the shower gel and loofa and slowly began to lather you up, washing your body in a surprisingly sensual way. When he finally decided you were clean, he helped you under the spray and made sure all the suds were rinsed off.

"Can I touch you now?" you begged.

He smiled warmly. "I suppose I can allow it." He forced his voice to be steady and calm, despite the desire screaming inside of him--begging him to take you well and properly.

You sunk to your knees, gaze lifting to meet his. You gave him a shy smile before taking his cock in your soft hands. He was larger than average, but you weren't afraid of the pain. Instead, you focused on giving him the same intense pleasure he had given you.

When you wrapped your lips around his cock, his head fell back and a groan escaped his parted lips. His fingers danced across your scalp, gathering your hair to one side so he could see you properly.

"Shit, sweetheart," he mumbled. "You're taking me so well."

You moaned around him, pleased with the praise he offered you. You continued to work him, using your tongue to caress and tease him in ways he'd never experienced before.

He wasn't at all surprised by your skill, but he was surprised by how damn good it felt. Sure, it had been a while for him, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a blow job that made his knees weak--if ever.

"Shit, baby," he whispered. "I'm so close--gonna cum for you."

His fingers raked through your wet hair and he used his other hand to lean against the tiles behind you. His hips jutted forward slightly as you relaxed your throat, taking him as far back as you could.

You flattened your tongue against his cock and flexed it, repeating the motion a few times before Dean's grip on your hair became painful and he exploded into your throat with a cry of your name.

You swallowed everything he had to give you, not releasing him from your lips until he pulled away, forcing the two of you to separate.

Dean leaned back against the shower wall and pulled you towards him, trying to support his weak legs while also helping you up. Once you were on your feet, he tugged you into him and placed a feverish kiss to your lips.

He panted heavily when he finally released you from his tight grip, allowing you to suck in some much needed air.

"Where did you learn how to do that thing with your tongue?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

You smirked. "It's a natural talent."

He grinned. "Well I fucking love it."

You laughed and leaned back into him, capturing his lips in a sweeter kiss. "So what are your thoughts on continuing this elsewhere?"

"Well my plan was to make you moan my name for the next several hours...I don't care where we go, as long as you're willing to let me ruin you."

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily and you moaned softly, biting into your bottom lip to keep the sound from being too loud. "My room?"

"My room is closer," he murmured into your shoulder.

You smiled and backed away from him, causing him to pout. You turned the water off and continued to back out of the shower. You grabbed a towel and wrapped it around yourself, which only served to upset Dean.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

Your eyes widened. "Putting on a towel so we can go to your room..."

"Did I say you could hide your body from me?" His tone was shockingly dominant and a spark of need went straight to your core.

"No," you whispered.

"I didn't think so." He stepped forward, dominance oozing from every pore in his body. "Drop the towel. Now."

You gasped softly, but heeded his command. The towel fell to the floor and he took yet another predatory step in your direction.

"Don't you ever hide yourself from me again. I wanna see every inch of your body." His hands grabbed at your hips roughly, tugging you towards him forcefully. "You're mine, do you understand me? Mine."

While the idea of someone owning you would normally piss you off, in this context it was a shocking turn-on. You swallowed thickly as you stared up into his heated gaze, suddenly unable to move, or even breathe.

He leaned down to kiss along your jaw towards your ear. He breathed slowly against your skin, causing you to shiver and clutch his arms for support. "Is this okay?" he whispered, voice still gruff, but much more loving.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to form actual words.

"Baby, I need you to tell me with your words. I need you to say whether this is okay or not. I don't wanna do something you're not into."

You turned your head a little so you could see his bright green eyes. The look in his eyes was reflected in your own and there was no doubt or fear in your voice when you answered him. "I'm very into it."

Your reassurance was all he needed to fall back into the dominant role. "Then you'd better get your ass into my bed before we have a problem."

You turned to open the door, yelping slightly when his hand smacked your ass. You shot him a surprised look and he looked slightly sheepish.

"Sorry, baby...I couldn't resist. You've got a great ass."

You smirked at the compliment and gave him a little wiggle before rushing into the hallway and making a beeline for his bedroom door.

He was surprised by your teasing action, but it only made him smile. He chased after you, mumbling, "Oh you're in for it now, princess."

You giggled as you landed on his bed, crawling up towards the headboard as he came through the doorway. He shut the door behind him and stalked to the edge of the bed, fiery gaze locked on you.

"It's unfair how sexy you look right now," he growled. "Makes me wanna fuck you senseless--make you scream my name until your voice is hoarse."

You gulped, trying to hide behind false bravado. "Are you going to do that from the other side of the room?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't be a brat."

"Why don't you come here and do something about it."

Dean practically jumped onto the bed, climbing on top of you and caging you beneath him in seconds. His cock was hard again, pressing against your thigh--a reminder of how badly he wanted you.

"Not so mouthy now are you?"

"Dean, I--"

"Hush," he murmured as he leaned down to kiss you. He shifted just enough so his cock brushed against your core, and you gasped into his mouth.

"How badly do you want me right now, (Y/N)?" he asked, voice rough with need.

"I've never wanted you more," you answered honestly.

He groaned lowly. "How do you want it? You want me to fuck you into this mattress or take it nice and slow?"

"Fuck me into the mattress," you begged softly. "Please."

"Jesus--I love when you beg for me," he growled.

"Fuck me, Dean," you pleaded. You weren't above begging, especially when it came to him.

Dean gripped his cock in his right hand and lined himself up with your entrance. He started to push in, trying to move slowly to avoid hurting you as much. "You're so fucking tight, baby," he whispered against your lips.

You gripped his biceps harshly, nails digging into his skin. The stretch was unbelievable, both painful and pleasurable all at once.

"You okay?" he whispered softly.

You nodded.

"Babe," he said in a warning tone.

"I'm okay--keep going."

He continued to push into you and your back arched as his cock brushed against your cervix. You whimpered at the feeling of fullness, and Dean struggled to remain motionless until you told him it was okay to move.

"I need you to move, Dean--please."

He pulled himself up slightly and started a very gentle pace, still allowing you time to adjust. The last thing he wanted was to make this painful or uncomfortable for you. He didn't give a damn about his enjoyment--all he wanted was to watch you fall apart over and over again.

"Your pussy feels incredible, baby," he groaned. "I could stay here forever."

He began to move more quickly and your breathing became more erratic as you reveled in the pleasure of the moment. Your moans were like music to his ears, spurring him on as he slid into you again.

"I love the sounds you're making, sweetheart. I wanna hear you."

He picked up his pace and shifted you into a new position so he could get even deeper inside you. You cried out as he hit your g-spot, pussy clamping down on his cock in response.

"Shit--" he groaned. "You're squeezing me so tight--taking my cock so fucking well, gorgeous."

Your back arched again and your head was tossed back, pressing into the pillows at the head of the bed. Your hands twisted in the sheets, unable to reach his arms or his back as he slammed into you repeatedly.

He knew you were close, but he wasn't ready to feel you cum yet. "Look at me, baby."

He waited until your hazy eyes met his.

"Don't cum until I tell you to, understand?"

Your eyes widened. "But, Dean--"

"Not until I give you permission," he said firmly.

You nodded rapidly, not wanting to risk your orgasm altogether.

"Good girl."

You moaned loudly and your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, causing him to echo the sound.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned. "You like it when I praise you, huh? You wanna hear about how much I love this pussy? How I've been thinking about fucking you for years? How I've craved your body?"

You were practically breathless beneath him, unable to formulate a response or even acknowledge his words.

"Your pussy is fucking perfect," he continued. "Made for me. And this body? Gorgeous and soft and fucking delicious. Can't believe I get to touch you like this--make you feel so good."

"Dean, please," you begged breathlessly.

"Not yet, sweetheart."

You whimpered, but continued to focus on staving off your impending orgasm.

"Who owns this pussy, baby?"

You didn't answer--too focused on not cumming until he gave you permission.

His grip on your legs tightened, bringing your attention back to him. "That's it, pretty girl, look at me. Tell me who owns this pussy."

"You," you gasped out.

"That's right. This pussy is mine. I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this--make you moan and whimper and scream. No one else."

"Only you," you cried.

"Fuck--" His breathing had become ragged and he had begun to struggle to keep himself from orgasming.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum!" you begged.

Dean decided to take pity on you. "Cum for me, baby."

"Dean!" you screamed as your orgasm ripped through you. The pleasure so white hot and blinding you nearly blacked out.

Dean helped you ride out the waves of pleasure before lowering himself back down to hover over you. He placed soft kisses to your heated skin and whispered, "You're so damn beautiful when you cum."

You were gulping down mouthfuls of air, but you heard his whispered words. "I love you," you murmured.

He groaned softly. "Love you more."

He picked his pace back up, intent on giving you another orgasm before allowing himself to cum.

It didn't take long for him to work you back up, letting you hang on the precipice of blissful pleasure once more.

"You feel so good beneath me, baby. I love watching your pretty face as you fall apart. I just can't get enough of you," he admitted.

Your nails dug into his back, indicating you also couldn't get enough of him. "Dean, I need more," you pleaded.

"Touch yourself for me, baby. I want you to cum before I fill you up."

You lowered your hand down and slipped it between your bodies. You found your clit with ease and began to gently toy with it, sending pulses of toe curling pleasure up your spine.

"Fuck, yes. That's it baby. God, this pussy is addicting...don't ever wanna stop."

"So close," you whimpered.

"Yeah, sweetheart? You wanna cum?"

"Please, Dean."

"How badly?"

"Dean," you whined.

"Be a good girl and tell me how badly you wanna cum for me and maybe I'll let you."

"Please-please-please," you begged. "I wanna cum so bad. I need to cum, Dean, please!"

As much as he loved prolonging your orgasm, he couldn't bear saying no to you. "Cum for me, sweetness," he whispered into your ear.

Your body began to shake as the dam broke once again. You cried out as the pleasure invaded all of your senses, overwhelming you completely.

Dean began to chase his own high, desperately needing to fill you up with his seed. "You're the only woman who makes me lose control," he whispered into your skin.

You were surprised by his words, but they warmed your heart. Dean wasn't the kind of man to lose control often, so the fact that you made him do so was a massive ego boost.

"I wanna feel you fill me up, Dean," you murmured. "Need your cum inside me."

"Fuck," he growled, teeth grazing your pulse point.

His hips began to stutter as he reached his peak. Your nails scraped along his back, giving him the last push he needed to fall over the edge. He came with a guttural growl of your name, ropes of hot cum filling your pussy.

His arms started to feel weak as his orgasm came to an end, and he collapsed on top of you, crushing you beneath his larger frame. You couldn't have been bothered to care if he'd literally smothered you--you were too fucked out to form coherent thoughts.

After a while, Dean managed to pull himself off of you, only to collapse on the bed beside you. He reached for you, strong arms wrapping around your waist to tug you into his chest.

"You're so damn incredible, (Y/N/N)," he whispered into your shoulder, lips pressing soft kisses there. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard--and you managed to do it twice."

"I can't feel my legs and my head is fuzzy," you mumbled. "So I second all of that."

Dean chuckled softly and held you even tighter. "I love you," he murmured. "More than you'll ever know."

"I think I have some idea," you whispered back. "And I love you just as much."

Dean smiled, feeling truly happy for the first time in as long as he could remember. He knew he should get up, help you clean up and all that, but he couldn't get himself to move and you weren't complaining. In fact, your breathing had evened out and he had a feeling you'd be asleep soon.

He kissed your shoulder one more time before resting his head comfortably on the pillow, feeling more relaxed than he had in a while. Just as sleep threatened to claim him, he heard his brother's voice from the other side of the closed door.

"While I'm super happy for you both, I have one request. Next time the two of you decide to fuck each other's brains out, could you at least have the decency to wait until I'm gone? I can't un-hear any of that!"

You laughed lightly and you could feel Dean's laughter rumbling in his chest from behind you.

"We'll do our best," Dean called back. "But no promises! She's simply too hot to resist--you never know when I'll get the urge to ravish her."

You laughed even harder, but you reached behind you to lovingly smack his hip.

"Ohh gross, dude!" Sam grumbled before walking away, leaving the two of you alone again.

"You're so bad, Dean Winchester."

"I didn't hear you complaining when I was making your legs shake ten minutes ago."

You tossed him a grin over your shoulder. "I didn't say it was a bad thing."

He matched your grin. "Touché, my love. Touché."

[persevereforahappyending]

This isn't Your Fault

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: “Tara,” you said, the calmness of your voice surprising you. “This isn’t you fault.”

Warnings: Violence

Word Count: 3.3k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

“Hey, babe,” you answered the phone cheerfully. “How was the party?” Tara had begged you to go to the frat party, but you declined. As much as you loved the girl, there was no way in hell she was going to get you to go to a frat party. You already hated parties and socializing in general. There was nothing in the world that could convince you to go to something that involved both, especially when all the people involved would be drinking.

“Ugh,” Tara groaned. “It was going great until Sam showed up and tased someone in the balls.”

“I’m sorry?” you weren’t sure you heard her right, it sounded like she said her sister tased someone in the balls. You opened a cabinet, grabbing a glass.

“There was some drunk frat douche who may have been trying to get me to come upstairs with him.”

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You knew Tara was smiling into her phone just from the way her voice softened, it brought a smile to your face as well.

Tara loved when someone cared about her. She loved when someone cared enough to be there for her and protect her. You knew that, just from the way her eyes always lit up when you’d check in or instantly come over if she was having a bad day. You saw it in the way despite wanting freedom from her sister, she still respected her and wanted her approval. You and Tara had been dating for over six months now and she still refused to introduce you to her sister. You had met her friends but none of them knew you guys were dating. You understood, truly, after what they had all been through you got that they were hesitant to trust strangers. Even though she said she was afraid of how Sam would react, and that she’d scare you off you knew the real reason Tara didn’t want to introduce you yet was because she was afraid Sam wouldn’t approve of you.

You believed your relationship with Tara was stronger than that, that Tara wouldn’t break up with you just because her sister or friends didn’t like you. You knew it would make things difficult though. If they didn’t like you, or really if Sam didn’t like you, you knew Tara would be hurt. She’d be torn between being with you and knowing her sister didn’t approve. Which is why until Tara was ready, you were more than happy to wait to officially meet Sam.

“Chad stopped the guy, getting into a fight in the process,” Tara continued.

You smiled at that; you knew there was always a reason you liked Chad. “Good,” you said instead.

“Then Sam showed up and the tasing happened,” she let out a long sigh. “I just want a normal life.”

“I know,” you whispered sympathetically. “You know she just wants to keep you safe though, right?”

Tara groaned, causing you to laugh. “I know,” she mumbled. “This is just the exact reason why I won’t introduce you.” You could imagine Tara throwing up her hands as she said that. “She wants me to open up and share with her but then when I try to have a life outside of the friend group, she tases someone!”

“Whenever you decide to introduce me, I’m sure it will go fine.” You reached above the island, grabbing one of the pans hanging and set it on the stove. “I’m sure I won’t get tased.” You walked around the island, moving to grab the food you intended to have for dinner before pausing in your tracks. “Right?” you asked hesitantly with an awkward chuckle before you got to moving again.

“Maybe,” Tara mumbled. Your steps paused again, you wanted to meet the most important person in Tara’s life, but Tara was making it incredibly difficult for you to not be terrified of her sister. “Just stand behind me when that eventual meeting happens.”

You let out a nervous chuckle. You were sure it would go fine. You were sure that Sam would probably glare at you and maybe judge you right away, assuming you were out to get them or something. You hoped though that eventually Sam would warm up to you. You were sure Sam could be scary, you’d seen her staring down anyone who so much glanced at her wrong when she followed Tara somewhere, she was certainly one intimidating woman. You knew she was really just incredibly protective over her little sister, a bit overprotective if you asked Tara.

Her friends weren’t much different, at least Mindy and Chad, the ones who survived Woodsboro with them. You had met them in casual settings, at parties, in the library, and even shared a class with Mindy. They were all a tight knit group, they talked with others but letting someone in their friend group was a process apparently. When you eventually officially met them, you were sure you’d be interrogated by Mindy and Chad would probably be like Sam, glaring at you from across the room. Out of the three of them Tara said Mindy was the calmer more reasonable one, but she could get a little intense when she was going over a suspect list or accusing people of murders.

Mindy was the one you were the least worried about. You actually had a couple classes with Anika and worked together on a few papers. You still hadn’t met Mindy enough to walk up and talk to her, but she would give you a nod if she saw you and she was always nice when she came to pick Anika up from a study session. She would also usually squint at you, watching you for anything suspicious but she did that with most people, so you didn’t take it personally.

“My fearless protector,” you said softly.

“Shut up,” Tara said.

You chuckled, shaking your head. Tara was short and everyone underestimated her. The truth was she had just as much fight in her as her sister. Whenever you were out if someone made a rude comment or God forbid hit on you, Tara would shoot them a furious glare that would make anyone on the receiving end wish they were dead. There was even one time when you were out and someone recognized Tara, then the moron decided to make a comment about Sam, and you were lucky to pull Tara out of there before the police could be called. She about launched herself over the table, arms already out and ready to strangle the man.

Your laughter quickly ended when you heard a creak. You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You didn’t take the phone away from your ear as you glanced down the hall. You didn’t see anyone, and the front door was still closed. You were the only one home, your parents being out of town for the week. You swore you heard the floor creak though. Every fiber of your body told you to not go down the hall, the little alarm going off in your head screaming that something wasn’t right.

“You, okay?” Tara asked. You could hear the concern in her voice.

“Yeah,” you answered distractedly. You cleared your throat saying, “Yeah,” again more convincingly. “So, what’s planned for the rest of the night?” you decided to change the subject.

“Sleep,” Tara mumbled. “I’m already starting to feel this hangover. Can I come over tomorrow?”

“Is that a good idea?” You swung around the island, resting your hand on the refrigerator door. “I doubt Sam will want you out of her sight after tonight.”

“Fuck what she wants. I miss you,” she whined.

You glanced up from the floor, catching the reflection of a white mask in the window as you opened the fridge door. You swallowed, preparing yourself for what was about to happen.

“Tara,” you said, the calmness of your voice surprising you. “This isn’t you fault.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

You slammed the refrigerator door closed, spinning around to face your attacker just as he swung his knife, the metal blade clashing against the steel fridge door. You ran towards the stove, letting your phone clatter onto the island as you empty your hands to grab the pan you had intended to use to cook dinner.

You brought the pan up just as Ghostface brought his knife down towards you. The sound of metal against metal filling the air. You moved the pan, blocking every slash and every stab. At one point when he went to stab you instead of blocking you brought the pan up, swinging it down hard on his hand that held the knife. He groaned, dropping the knife in the process. You brought the pan back up, whacking him across the face. He stumbled to the side, catching himself on the counter. You brought the pan down on his head again. While he was down on his knees you turned and ran, reaching over the island to grab your phone again.

You ran down the hall, sliding into the front door, after taking the turn a little too tight. You had your hand on the doorknob when you saw Ghostface already on his feet again, making his way to you. You changed course, running up the stairs to your room instead. You heard the knife impale the front door, cracking the wood as it was yanked out.

You reached your room, slamming the door behind you, knowing it would only buy you a few extra seconds. You jumped on your bed, rolling over the other side as gracefully as you could. You grabbed the baseball bat you always had resting against the wall by your bedside, getting in a swinging position as you stared down the door, waiting for Ghostface to burst through.

You held the phone in your hand, the same one that was gripping the bat. You vaguely heard Tara’s voice coming through the speaker, you knew she must be going out of her mind not knowing what was happening. You wanted to answer her, tell her Ghostface was here and to get out of town as fast as she could. You couldn’t release your grip on the bat though, your eyes were glued to your bedroom door.

The bedroom door shuddered as if someone was pounding on it. With each shake you stepped back, bumping into the wall behind you. You tightened your grip on the bat, your knuckles turning white. When suddenly the shuddering stopped. You held your breath as the doorknob slowly turned, the door squeaking open. Standing in the doorway was Ghostface, knife shining at his side. He tilted his head at you as he stepped into your room, crossing over the invisible threshold.

You and Ghostface watched each other, waiting for the other to make their move. It was so quiet you could swear you heard your own heart beating. In the blink of an eye Ghostface surged forward, launching himself over the bed, he didn’t make it over your bed in one jump though. His feet got caught up in the blankets causing him to stumble down.

You took the opportunity to run around the side of the bed, narrowly missing a swipe of Ghostface’s knife as he swung out at you. You heard a light thud then realized you had a better grip on your bat, you had dropped your phone. You slid to a stop just as you hit the stairs, gripping the railing so you didn’t go flying down them. You quickly recovered, rushing down the steps as quick as possible. Part of you wanted to go back for your phone but you knew doing so would only end in your death.

You got to the front door, turning the knob to unlock it then flung the door open. Ghostface stomped down the steps, jumping when he was halfway, slamming his body into the open door, effectively closing it again. You stumbled back, barely getting out of the way of the door about to crush your arm.

Ghostface pushed himself off the door with a grunt, jumping right at you. He knocked you to the ground, the force of his tackle causing you to let go of your bat.

You looked at your bat, rolling just out of reach. You looked back up, seeing Ghostface hovering over you. He gripped his knife in his right hand, swiftly bringing it down towards your chest.

You caught his wrist just as the knife touched your shirt, pushing back against him so it was now hovering a few inches from your chest. He brought his other hand over, putting more weight on the hand with the knife. It inched closer and closer to your chest. You stared up at the white mask, into the hollow black eyes. You knew there was a person behind the mask, but you couldn’t make out any features.

You kicked your legs, trying to get any leverage on him. You brought your knee up, knowing for sure he was a he by the way he groaned, loosening his grip on the knife. You knocked the knife out of his hand, rolling out from under him in the processes.

He moved slowly, still clearly in pain from your hit. He reached over, stretching out his hand towards his knife. You were closer, reaching up and smacking it across the floor.

You were on your knees about to pull yourself up the rest of the way when you looked up seeing Ghostface standing above you, he had recovered before you. He sent three swift kicks to your stomach, knocking the breath out of you. You rolled over onto your back, looking up at him as you gasped for breath.

You rolled over again, trying to bring yourself back to your feet, there was no way you were going down without a fight. Your hands were spread out, face down on the floor to help push you up. Ghostface walked closer to you, the only thing you saw were his boots stopping before you.

Ghostface lifted his leg high, bringing his heavy combat boot down onto your hand. He gave his boot a final twist, allowing you to hear the crunch of your bones before he took his foot away. You rolled back onto your back, clutching your hand as you screamed in pain. Tears were already streaming down your face as you tried to regain control of your breathing.

Ghostface walked around you, moving towards his knife. You pressed your injured hand to your chest, reaching out towards your bat with the other hand. Ghostface forgot about his knife, kneeling down in front of you, tilting his head as he watched you struggle trying to reach the bat. He picked the bat up just as your fingertips grazed the handle.

He stood above you, tilting his head as he shook the bat back and forth in a taunting manor before raising it above his head.

“No!” you screamed right before Ghostface brought the bat down onto your ribs.

He brought the bat down again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

The force of his swings never letting up. You struggled to catch your breath. Gasping for air as you took short shallow breaths, you couldn’t take a deep breath.

There was what sounded like tires screeching outside. Through bleary vision you could see Ghostface look up and out the window before dropping your bat with a clang and bolting towards the backdoor.

“Y/N!” someone shouted. You blinked your eyes slowly, your eyelids becoming heavy.

The next thing you were aware of was a warm pressure on your shoulder. You turned your head to see a hand resting on your shoulder. Your eyes trailed from the hand, up an arm, and to a face, your girlfriends face, Tara’s face. You saw blurry figures beside her that you couldn’t make out. You could only stare into Tara’s worried eyes. She seemed to be sobbing, her mouth was moving but you couldn’t hear the words coming out before your eyes slowly shut, everything going black.

When you opened your eyes again you were in a dark room, panic instantly shot through you. You tried to sit up, instantly hissing in pain. You sucked in a breath but once again, pained shot through you. You dropped your head back down, taking small breaths. It didn’t feel like you were on the hard wood floor anymore, whatever was behind your head felt soft and fluffy. Your eyes darted all around the room, not recognizing your surroundings, the walls were bare and basic, you didn’t know where you were.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tara whispered softly, her tear-stained face appearing above you. “You’re okay,” she gripped your hand tightly with her own, brushing your hair out of your face with her other hand. “You’re in the hospital.”

“Wh-what are you doing here?” you rasped out, your dry mouth the least of your worries because each word caused pain to shoot through you.

“I needed to make sure you were okay.” You caught movement out of the side of your eye, seeing someone else had been in the room and was slipping out to give you and Tara privacy. You didn’t get a good visual and you’d only ever seen pictures Tara showed you, but it almost looked like Sam.

“You-you need to get out of town.” You gritted your teeth, trying to swallow the pain. “You need to get somewhere safe.”

“No, no, I’m not leaving you,” she shook her head as if she couldn’t believe you said that. “I’m not leaving you,” she repeated, leaving you no more room to argue.

Your eyes drifted to your hand not intertwined with Tara’s, it was wrapped in a cast. The cast covered your entire hand, going up all your fingers, leaving only your pointer one free, then it stretched down just past your wrist so you couldn’t bend it. The only thought that went through your mind oddly was that you were just glad it hadn’t been your dominant hand.

You looked back up at Tara, noticing she was staring at your injured hand as well. “How are you feeling?” she asked, not able to peel her eyes away from the cast.

“If I sit completely still and don’t breathe then the pain is only agonizing,” you answered. “Instead of excruciating.”

“I’m sorry,” Tara whispered, tears already beginning to fill her eyes.

“This wasn’t your fault,” you tried to lean up, instantly wincing in pain as you slowly lowered yourself back down again. “Please don’t cry.” You untangled your hand from hers, reaching up to brush the few stray tears that had begun to fall. “This wasn’t your fault.”

“If it wasn’t for me, you never would have been targeted,” her voice cracked.

You shook your head. “No, no, it’s not your fault a psycho wants to hurt you. This isn’t on you. I love you.” You tilted her chin until she was looking you in the eye. “I love you,” you whispered again.

“I love you too,” she leaned forward, resting her forehead against yours, a few of her tears dripping down onto you.

“This was a hell of a way to meet your sister,” you said, trying to break the tension.

Tara leaned back into her chair, wrapping her hand in yours again. “And you still haven’t even officially met yet,” she chuckled.

“Damn,” you sighed. “I was hoping unconscious me had already done all the work.”

“At least she knows you aren’t potentially a Ghostface,” Tara joked.

You laughed, instantly wincing in pain. “Don’t joke.”

“I’m sorry,” she smiled down at you. “She does want to officially meet you though.”

“Can’t wait,” you whispered. You closed your eyes as Tara stroked her fingers through your hair, allowing you to peacefully to drift off to sleep.

[lina-lovebug]

USM characters dating an Avengers daughter

- you knew his about his not-so-subtle crush on your dad when you first met, and decided not to tell him

- you adore him but whose to say he won't just use you as an excuse to hang out with your philanthropist billionaire playboy dad?

- but you'd been dating awhile, and had met Aunt May (who adored you), so why were you avoiding the subject of your dad?

- that was until you were fixing your suit and Peter walked in, gave you a kiss and offered to help. You forgot the little engraving your dad left you on your suit, "be careful and kick ass, love dad"

- "aw, that's sweet," he smiled, "when can I meet him?"

- "you. . .already have," you said, trying to gage his reaction, "he made me my first suit. . .and yours"

- it took him a few seconds but then it all clicked. His super amazing genius girlfriend whose dad bought her a Porsche at fifteen was Tony Stark

- his idol

- "I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner, but you idolize him and I was scared and-"

- he understood - completely shocked but understood

- he does ask if that means he can drive the Porsche now tho

- you and your mom? Best friends

- danny and your mom? Not so much

- being the daughter of Black Widow herself came with a lot of trust, and many secrets so you never intended on dating because of it

- but then this handsome motherfucker gentleman comes along and you're on cloud nine

- you told him you have a complicated past and he respected that, waiting until you were ready

- but he's Iron Fist, King of K'un L'un and an Agent of SHIELD so he took notice when you'd disappear from team sessions

- he admits he got curious and followed one day, and there you were: training with Black Widow herself, and doing it flawlessly

- and at the end of it, his suspicions were confirmed once you hugged and said, "thanks, mom"

- "So are you gonna introduce us or does he always do that?" She made DIRECT eye contact with him and it honestly sent a shiver down his spine

- he introduced himself, remaining calm and collected, which impressed her but she also knows that people can hide how they rlly feel

- she GRILLED HIM

- "where'd you grow up?" "K'un L'un" "who are your parents?" "Heather and Wendell Rand" "if you're a billionaire, why do you wear five dollar flip flops?"

- you knew she approved of him, but she liked to keep him on his toes

- "beloved, I love you, but your mother scares me"

- oh how does one BEGIN to explain to their bullet proof boyfriend that their dad is Thor?

- he knew you had to be other worldly, and not just because he thinks you're a Goddess you accidentally struck him with lightning one time

- you wanted to keep it a secret for a bit before the Almighty Thor comes in and demands to know Luke's intentions

- "babe, why is Thor asking me when I'm proposing?"

- being a God came with perks, so Thor knew not long after you guys started dating that something was amiss with his daughter

- (you stopped remembering to being him poptarts and he got upset)

- "how do I know if he is worthy of your hand?"

- "He makes me laugh :) and he's bulletproof so. . ."

- they get along great

- his first trip to Asgard was a bit intimidating but seeing as you're half human, your mom reminded him that love between you guys was possible

- "I recommend a traditional Asgardian ceremony-"

- "dad we're sixteen"

- o h b o i

- talk about overprotective father

- you're a minute late, who were you with? What were you doing? I want their names, addresses, social security-

- if you guessed Winter Soldier a.k.a Bucky then you guessed right

- he knew something was up the moment you two lingered for a bit after training, and watching from the top deck this man SPOTTED your hands brush and asked Fury for Novas' personal file

- but knowing your dad, you were actually able to keep your relationship a secret for two months before he put the pieces together himself

- you both were out on a picnic date, Sam having made a cute cake, and a very threatening man with a metal arm came up sat down, smiled at him, held his hand out and said, "Samuel Alexander, sixteen, last Nova, grew up in Carefree, and 5'8, correct?"

- you were LIVID

- meanwhile Sam was like "omg he knows my name :0!!"

- you had told Sam long before dating that your dad was extremely overprotective, but Sam being Sam was just excited that his badass girlfriend has a badass dad!!

- and Buckys like "wtf this kid isn't even remotely terrified"

- Sam asks question after question, and it even turns into a third wheel - as in they're bonding and you're just there

- Bucky likes him but still tries to be somewhat intimidating, being the infamous Winter Soldier and all

- "Babe. . .baabe. . .when's your dad gonna be back? I wanna ask him if he likes my new helmet look"

- so like where do I even start

- you and Ava had been dating for a couple of months before she started to realize that she hadn't met your family

- you told her that they were just really intense and you didn't wanna scare her

- but who could scare White Tiger? So she insisted and you said "your funeral"

- also how does one explain to their partner that they technically shouldn't exist because your dad is a robot and your mom is a witch?

- your brothers LOVE her

- Billy and Tommy immediately recognized Ava, seeing as they'd work with the team from time to time and said "ooh our sisters dating the smart one"

- and Ava like, "babe I think I kicked one of their asses in training"

- Wanda adores Ava, she thinks she's good for you and might as well have someone mentally stable in your life

- Meanwhile in Avas' mind, "omg omg her mom is Scarlet Witch, her dad is Vision - wait is that why she's so smart? Is my girlfriend a robot?"

- no you're not a robot

- Vision likes her, and he knew about you two before you two even started dating. Why? You rambled about White Tiger during dinner once and Vision CLOCKED that look in your eyes

- needless to say, Sunday dinners with your family are now mandatory with Ava

[samdeancass]

Headstrong Hunter

Requested by @i0fty with Prompt #7 from my Prompt List: "You could have died!"

Pairing: Castiel x reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Characters: Castiel, Y/N

Description: After finding out that the monster that killed their family had come around in a nearby town, Y/N decides to face it head on, and alone.

You stormed out of your room and into the library with Castiel hot on your heels. Sam and Dean jumped back into their chairs as you threw your hands down on the table, an exasperated look on your face. "Can you two please tell him that I've been a hunter my whole life and I can take care of myself?" They both shot their hands in the air and got up from the table. "We're not getting involved in this." Sam sheepishly walked away with Dean scurrying behind. "Nu-uh, don't want to get involved in the relationship crap." You narrowed your eyes as they walked past you, silently cursing them, until an exasperated breath broke you from your thoughts.

"What, Cas? I've told you, I'm going on this hunt and there's nothing you can do to stop me." You turned around and, sure enough, Castiel stood a mere centimetre behind you. "You know I have the power to stop you. With a flick of my wrist, I could send you back to the room and barricade you inside." You narrowed your eyes and smirked evilly. "Yeah, I know, but you won't. You promised me when we started dating that you would never use your powers on me unless I was dying. Besides, I have a personal stake in this hunt; it's connected to the creature that killed my family. I need to see this through, not just for them but for myself too. I can't keep running from my past, and this is my chance to finally face it head-on." Castiel's expression softened, a mix of concern and understanding flickering in his eyes. He let out a resigned sigh, knowing the depth of your determination and the pain driving you. "Alright, but promise me you'll be careful. I can't bear losing you." You nodded, appreciating his concern even as you stood firm in your resolve. Castiel's protectiveness was something you became accustomed to, a testament to his depth of feelings for you. Yet, you understood that love meant allowing each other to fight your own battles, and this was one you needed to face alone. Despite his celestial powers and ancient wisdom, Castiel respected your feelings, knowing that true partnership was built on trust and mutual support.

You began gathering your gear, meticulously checking each piece to ensure top condition. Your weapons were cleaned and loaded, your knife sharpened to a fine edge, and your backpack was filled the tools you needed. With a determined glance at Castiel, you tucked a protective amulet that he gave you into your jacket. This reminded you of his love for you, and acted as a direct line to him when you needed help. You took a deep breath, ready to embark on your journey. You turned and kissed Cas. His eyes pleaded with you not to go alone and your resolve nearly broke. It took all your strength to turn away from him. With a nod of determination, you set off, ready to take on whatever danger lies ahead. As you walked away, a mix of emotions swirled within you—fear, excitement, and a deep sense of purpose. Leaving Castiel behind was not easy, but you knew this was a journey you had to undertake on your own. The thought of confronting the creature that haunted your past filled you with anxiety, yet it also fueled your determination to finally find closure. Throwing your bag into the backseat, you set off with determination to finish off the monster that had plagued you for most of your life. You knew the monster was part of the werewolf family, but nothing more than that. You had to find the answers you needed to put an end to this nightmare. You were determined to put an end to this once and for all.

The road stretched out before you, winding through dense forests and past desolate fields, each mile bringing you closer to the creature's lair. The sky was overcast, casting a grey pallor over the landscape, mirroring your turmoil. As you drove, the haunting memory of the monster played over and over in your mind. The weight of your mission pressed down on you, but the thought of finally ending this chapter of your life kept you focused and resolved. The memory of the encounter with the creature was still vivid in your mind, etched with clarity. You remembered the chilling sound of its growl and the ferocity in its eyes as it lunged at you from the shadows. That night, you barely escaped with your life, but the scars left were more than just physical. It killed your parents right in front of you which left a massive hole in your heart. You missed them dearly, and you wanted to honour them by killing the monster. You were determined to avenge their death, and you set out to hunt the creature down. You were determined to end its reign of terror and to bring justice to your family.

The monster's lair loomed ahead, a dilapidated mansion shrouded in darkness and overgrown with vines. The windows were shattered, and the front door hung ajar, creaking ominously in the wind. The air around it was thick with an eerie silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves, as if the very forest held its breath in anticipation of your arrival. As you approached the mansion, a mix of fear and determination coursed through your veins. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the trepidation and courage battling within you. Despite the fear, there was a fierce resolve burning inside, driving you forward with the promise of closure and revenge. Gripping the silver dagger tightly in your hand, you felt its reassuring weight, knowing it was your best defense against the supernatural. In your backpack, a bottle of wolfsbane tincture and a revolver loaded with silver bullets were ready, each item carefully chosen for this mission. You had spent months preparing, studying ancient texts and consulting with experts, ensuring you had every possible advantage against the creature that had taken so much from you. You took a deep breath and stepped through the door.

Inside, the mansion was a haunting tableau of decay and neglect. The grand foyer, once splendid, was now a hollow shell, its marble floors cracked and covered in dust. Tattered remnants of opulent drapes hung limply from shattered windows, and cobwebs draped the corners like ghostly curtains. A grand staircase spiraled upward, its banister broken in several places, leading to shadows that seemed to pulse with the promise of danger. You stopped and listened for any noise but the air was silent. You tiptoed through the mansion, always ready and on-guard for when the monster appeared. You reached a landing at the top of the stairs, and you saw a door that was slightly ajar. You took a deep breath and opened it, slowly and carefully, expecting the worst. As the door creaked open, a wave of anxiety washed over you, tightening your chest and making your breath shallow. Yet, amidst the fear, there was a flicker of hope that this confrontation could finally bring peace to your tormented soul. Your hands trembled slightly, but your grip on the dagger remained firm, a tangible reminder of the strength and courage that had brought you this far. You stepped inside, determined to face whatever lay ahead. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you saw a figure standing in the shadows. You held your ground, steeling yourself for what was to come.

"I always knew you would come and find me, Y/N." The figure stepped out of the shadows. It was a tall, imposing figure with eyes that glowed an unnatural shade of amber. The creature's skin was as pale as the moonlight streaming through the broken windows. Its sharp features were accentuated by high cheekbones and an angular jaw. Clad in tattered, dark clothing that blended into the shadows, the figure exuded an aura of menace and ancient power. You stood back slightly, taken aback by the figure's appearance, but soon found your footing again. "How do you know my name?" "I know everything about you". The figure chuckled darkly and a chill ran down your spine; you knew you were in serious trouble. "I've been studying you for some time. It eluded me how you escaped me all those years ago, and so I kept an eye on you until I knew you were ready." Your heart raced, but you steeled yourself and raised the dagger defensively. "I'm definitely ready now. I didn't come here to run." Your voice was strong and unwavering. "Let's end this once and for all." You lunged forward, dagger in hand, determined to put an end to his evil. The figure stepped back, his expression unreadable, and you prepared for the fight of your life. As you lunged again, the figure pushed you down, snatching the dagger from your hand and holding it above your throat, the tip nearly piercing your skin. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do this, finish off the last remaining person alive that has seen me." Panic surged through your veins, but you forced yourself to focus, searching for any glimmer of an opportunity to turn the tables. Thoughts of loved ones and promises made flashed through your mind, fueling your resolve. You couldn't let it end here; you had to find a way to survive, to fight back, and to prove that you were more than just prey to this creature.

As you prepared to fight back, the room doors burst open to reveal Castiel. "I suggest you get off them before I kill you." The figure looked up and chuckled darkly as he saw Castiel's appearance. "And what is a little man like you planning to do to something like me?" The figure looked down at you and raised the dagger. You had not seen the hunt going this way. You had always been determined to kill the creature; you didn't want to die. Closing your eyes, you readied yourself for the dagger's impact but instead felt the figure's heaviness leave you. You slowly sat up and watched as Castiel held the creature onto the wall with his powers. "That's where you're wrong. I'm not a man, I'm an angel of the Lord." He looked over at you and held his hand out, motioning for you to come over. Grabbing the dagger that the creature dropped you slowly approached them, your heart beating loudly in your ears.

As you entwined your hand with his, you looked up at Cas and he nodded. It was a silent affirmation, a gesture of trust and solidarity in the face of uncertainty. Cas's nod gave you the courage to confront the creature with resolve, knowing you were not alone. This simple act strengthened your bond, reinforcing the unspoken understanding that you were in this together. You then turned to the creature, a wave of feelings flowing through you. "I have spent my entire life studying you and planning how to kill you. You took everything from me, my family, my home and my life. I will not let you take anything else from me." You held the dagger high in the air and buried it in the creature's chest, a horrifying sound escaping from its mouth. Your legs gave way beneath you from the overwhelming event and you cried. The creature crumpled to the floor as Cas let it down and wrapped his arms around you. "Well done, honey, you did it. You got justice for your mom and dad. I'm so proud of you." He kissed the top of your head and pulled you up to standing, turning you to face him. "How did you know where I was, Cas?" He chuckled and took the amulet from your pocket. "You didn't think this was just a beacon for you to use, did you? This tells me where you are when I'm not with you. I followed you here. I was too worried to let you come here alone; and it's a good thing I did. You could have died, angel. Seeing that monster with the dagger at your throat made me feel things I never want to feel again. Please, next time when I say no, listen to me." You nodded and stood on your tiptoes, bringing Cas in for a well-deserved kiss. As your lips touched his, a whirlwind of emotions surged through you—relief, gratitude, and a lingering sadness for what was lost. The weight of years spent in pursuit of vengeance lifted, leaving behind a profound sense of peace. Yet amid the calm, a small voice inside reminded you that healing would take time, but with Cas by your side, you felt ready to face it.

Supernatural Tags:

@bxoken-heartss @deascheck @desimarie12

[sunshine-theseus]

Put Your Head On My Shoulder | Jessie Fleming x Reader

Words: 4k Summary: you and jessie go through many ups and downs but things work out in the end Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of depression and taking medication for it, covid didn’t happen, pretending the game vs real madrid was at Stamford bridge not in Spain

Jessie Fleming and I met at the 2015 world cup, both freshly 17 and competing in our first big tournament. Despite the fact we didn’t play each other, I found myself stumbling into her on the sidelines of Canada’s game against The Netherlands. Words were exchanged but we didn’t see each other again until the next year.

We knew we were both on athletic scholarships for the Bruins at UCLA and promised to try and meet outside of training to keep in contact without sport. It was surprising however, when my box was knocked out of my hands as I crashed into the young Canadian, both of us trying to enter the same room. She was clearly struggling to see over her own stuff, stumbling over words as her cheeks flush a very familiar red, trying to apologise.

“J, if you say sorry one more time I’m asking for a new roommate. Which I had no idea we were until now.” I crouch to pick up my books and writing equipment that was in my box as Jessie tries to manoeuvre to her decided side of the room.

I give up and rush to help her when she stumbles over her own foot and nearly goes flying.

“Jessie! You’re going to break something before the season even starts Jesus Christ be careful!” my hands gripped her waist tightly to stop her from tilting forward, then I grab the top box so she can actually see. The same red blush covers her cheeks.

“Sorry, my mum just insisted I try to take all my stuff in as little trips as possible, which is proving to be difficult. I’m sorry about your books.” With her stuff firmly on the ground she finally looks as me.

“They put the Australian and the Canadian in the same room knowing we just basically kicked you out of the Olympics?”

“You did not!” the joke was rare coming from her. She was funny and kind but still rather serious and shy, preferring studying statistics and players over team bonding or spending time with people after a game.

I understood that, I felt that, and that’s how we worked. Us against the world. We trusted our team and confided in them, but we’d really only want each other in times of need. Obviously there were people like Sam or Christine, who were like our big sisters for our respective national teams, but Jessie and I were just drawn to each other.

-

After UCLA came Chelsea. Both of us were about to start our last year of uni when her offer came through, far before mine.

By this point we’d been inseparable for four years, so I worried we’d be split; her making the move to England and me stuck in our dorm. Except it’d be much emptier and lonely, or filled with some stranger’s things.

And it was just like that. Time zones caused issues with keeping in contact. Eventually that became other things. Study, because she still had to finish her course. Team bonding, practice. What would be a call once a day became once a week until it filtered out, and her texts would be answered in seconds while mine sat in wait for whenever she decided she was free.

My offer came in the January transfer window. Emma had been in contact with me for a couple months, clearly trying to convince me, and 6 months ago I wouldn’t have even thought about it. But when I stare at the ‘merry Christmas’ and ‘I got the offer’ messages left unread and think about seeing the girl I thought would never leave me, I take the time offered.

And a week later I find myself sliding into Sam’s spare room groaning into the pillow as she fusses over the Australian snacks I did manage to get through customs.

“What’s got you in a mood chickadee?” I feel the bed dip beside me and her hand rubs my back.

“J.” the older Australian lets out a hum before taking a moment to reply.

“She talks about you all the time. About how much she misses you and everything you got up to at uni. All of which I already know because I hear it every camp.” I can feel the joking eye roll despite not seeing it.

“She talks about me but doesn’t talk to me. That means nothing. And I know she’s busy but so was I. Just because I was captaining a university team instead a stupid professional team doesn’t mean I wasn’t busy or doing something important! And I still kept in contact!” by now I’ve rolled over onto my back and started fiddling with Sam’s tattooed fingers, trying to distract myself from the pit of loneliness and despair that’s been slowly eating my stomach.

I dare not mention to anyone the decline in my mental health or the required psychology sessions Emma was going to provide for me once every few weeks. Everyone knew I was sad and that’s all they needed to know. But once upon a time, Jessie would have known everything, holding my hand tightly the whole way.

“You should sleep, big first day tomorrow. I’ll make you breakfast. Alarm-”

“8:30, I know. Every day, same time. Thank you Sam, really.” She smiles and pats my head before leaving.

-

To say my first day didn’t go well would be somewhat of an understatement. At exactly 8:30 my alarm went off. At 8:32, the pill bottle rattling at the bottom of my bag was fished out and 1 was being washed down by water. At 8:43, Sam was banging on my door calling for breakfast and I was rushing to make sure the pill bottle was hidden after changing. No one needs to know I’m taking anti-depressants, including Sam.

When we pulled into Cobham, I started to feel sick, and I told Sam just that.

“I’ll catch a train home.”

“It’s just nerves, you’ll be fine.”

“No-”

“You stay until at least lunch time, then we’ll see.” A pointed finger is shoved into my face, but I begin to stroll alongside her anyway.

I do almost book it for the nearest train station as soon as I enter the locker room. Sitting in the cubby next to mine, tying her shoelaces, is Jessie Fleming. During the chaos of the move and my first day, I manage to forget the way our numbers are right beside each other.

“You’ll be okay. You don’t even have to talk to her.” Sam whispers as she makes her way to her own cubby, greeting people on her way through.

So I try. Placing my bag in the nook and beginning to change into my training kit without the Canadian even looking up. It’s when I place down the same styled Tiempo Legend 8s I’ve been wearing since they released, that I can see her head turn from the corner of my eye. I don’t acknowledge it, continuing to slide the boots onto my feet and tie them up. But that doesn’t stop her.

“Oh my god! Hey!” there’s a lightness in her voice that I used to be so familiar with and it makes my heart clench.

I take a moment before deciding replying would be too rude for my liking.

“Hi.” Short and simple, and quite blunt.

“I didn’t know you signed, or that you even got the offe-” forget being nice.

“You would’ve known if you bothered to keep in contact with me.” With that I slide out of my seat beside her and make my way to Sam.

-

It gets worse when Emma splits us into pairs for dribbling drills, and she slides me toward Jessie.

“Of course.” I sigh but accept my fate as a ball rolls our way.

“What’s wrong?” a phrase that, coming from her mouth, used to have me spilling every small emotion I was feeling.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Come on Beans, tell me.” The nickname had been created in our first year of university. She learnt I loved green beans and I’m rather tall, so the name fit. But she didn’t feel like the same person who I let make the funny name.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

“What? Because I moved?”

“No! You left for Chelsea and I was happy for you, we had a plan to stay in contact until I followed along to somewhere in England. But you stopped trying. You stopped answering. You left me alone when I needed you the most. I would’ve done anything for you to have the career you deserved but you got it, without me. I just thought I’d still have my best friend when it happened.”

To say that training was tense from then on wasn’t a stretch. Emma never paired us up and any time one of us entered the locker room, everyone else would wait in silence for a burst similar to the one on the pitch. It never came.

It was after my first session with the psychologist that things began to change.

Because the psych was only here for me, Emma was kind to lend her office to us for the 50 minutes while she did other work around the grounds. I assume the girls were grateful to escape the tension for the moment.

“Same time, 2 weeks from now! It’s good you’re making progress!” The rather lovely lady shouts just as I’m closing the door, waving and smiling in thanks.

But as I turn around, I nearly bump into a small figure. A rather familiar one at that. Jessie begins to fall backwards but I grip her waist, holding her in place. It’s a familiar scenario, the feeling of my hands on her waist and her burning red cheeks are something I struggled to ever forget.

“T-thanks” her cheeks burn that same red.

“No worries.” I mumble in reply as I remove my hands, taking a step back.

“Who were you talking to? That didn’t sound like Emma. And what are you making progress on?” the questions don’t come rapidly but I still struggle to process them. Jessie’s smart, she can put two and two together, so I should tell her. But what if she laughs? There was a time where the thought wouldn’t have even crossed my mind, she’s not that type of girl. But things change.

“I- I-” Jessie places a gentle hand on my arm and nods, confirming it’s okay to take my time, but please continue. I sigh.

“She’s a psychologist.”

“A sport psychologist?”

“Well yes and no. I… I’ve been diagnosed with depression, and Emma wants me to have someone professional to talk to.” Her grip tightens but I know it’s in concern.

“When- when did you…”

“A couple months ago. Don’t worry, it wasn’t just because of you, a lot of things happened.”

“But it was partially because of me. I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been. You’ve always been there for me and I got here and treated you like shit. Discarded you like you were nothing. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” tears well up in her whisky brown eyes, but I smile.

“J, if you say sorry one more time, I’m asking for a new roommate for the away match against Man City. Which I did know we are… for once.”

“You can’t just forgive me.”

“I’m not, it’ll take time, but I want my best friend back. Sprout.” Jessie charges forward and wraps her arms around my waist.

“I’d do anything.” Her voice is muffled as her head presses into my chest, but I smile.

~~~~~

Things changed once again a few months after that. The 2020 Olympics had been delayed due to natural disasters, but we still found ourselves milling around the Olympic village together in our very little spare time. I also found myself admiring her for every little thing, every detail. Eventually I had to admit to myself that I’d developed a crush on the girl.

“What’s going on in that busy brain of yours?” Jessie had been by my side every step of the way with my mental health after she found out, and this question wasn’t uncommon, but the answer would be.

“I know this could ruin things, I’m very aware of that, but I have to tell you now otherwise I don’t think I’ll ever have the courage to.” Gaging her reaction was difficult, Jessie was a very stoic person.

“I-, I’ve found myself growing feelings for you. Feelings that surpass best friends, or how I feel when you show up for me. I like you, a lot. And I need you to know that. Standing in the middle of a pathway surrounded by half naked athletes in Olympic Village, I like you.” I look her in the eyes. Those burnt umber eyes, so warm and comforting, that always draw me in.

“I really like you too. Everything about you. I want to care for you and be there when you need me. I want to wake up in your arms and be able to admire every feature as the sun beams down on you like the miracle you are. I would even go as far as saying I desperately want to be your girlfriend.” I barely let Jessie finish what she’s saying before I lean down, a significant way, and kiss her with everything in me.

~~~~~

2 and a half years later and Jessie hasn’t left my side since. Most of our quarrels are just that, silly fights that are solved by the end of the night. We moved in together after 3 months and were rarely been seen apart.

That included tough games.

Real Madrid was our first game of the Champion’s League season, and we knew it was going to be hard. They were physical most importantly, so we had to play to that. We knew that when we were up 2-1 in the 78th minute.

“Jessie Fleming challenges Athenea Del Castillo, barley missing the ball and clipping Athenea on the foot! Oh, and the ref is calling for a penalty. I’m certain first contact was outside the box.” Is what would be heard by anyone watching the match through a screen, but you didn’t need a commentator to know the ref made an unfair call.

The contact was clearly outside the box and yet we’re forced to line up and watch Olga Carmona take the wrongly rewarded shot, me grasping Jessie’s hand in my own as a way to reassure her.

It’s obvious the referees are against us when Niamh makes a shot on goal, the ball sliding in, but it’s claimed offside. Something to do with Sam supposedly messing with the defence, another false claim. There’s nothing we can do when the final whistle blows and we’re tied, all of us dropping to the ground in exhaustion and disappointment.

After shaking hands with the Madrid players and briefly talking with Hayley to catch up and talk about things that happened between our last camp and now, I travel toward Jessie.

My girlfriend stands solemnly with her head in her hands. I managed to pull them away momentarily to see the tears drifting down her cheeks, but she’s pulling her hands away and turning around before I can ask what’s wrong.

“Darl, it’s not you’re fault.” I don’t want to invade her space while she’s upset so I walk around her and simply stand, hoping she’ll reach for me.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Jess-”

“Leave me alone Y/n.” not another word is uttered as she turns toward Fran and Niamh and walks away from me.

I similarly turn to Sam and Erin, with a shocked look, jaw hanging and rejected tears looming on my water line.

“She probably just needs to be alone.” As Erin tries to comfort me, we all turn to look at the subject of the conversation, only to see her being comforted by Fran, Niamh and Ashley, despite her effort to insist she’s fine.

“Maybe I didn’t push hard enough?”

“No you should never push when they clearly need space.” Sam places a reassuring hand on my shoulder

“But why is it only me she needs space from? I’m supposed to be the one she seeks comfort in. That’s what girlfriends do.”

“I don’t know chickadee.”

-

I expect Jessie to already be back at our apartment by the time Erin drops me off. Our shared car had been taken from the parking lot at the stadium and Jessie had disappeared, so those dots connected themselves. But our designated parking space is empty as I stroll along the bitumen.

There are no familiar white shoes next to the door in the same exact spot she puts them every day, no kit bag hanging on a hook, waiting to be washed tomorrow. No Canadian waiting in our bed, curled up in one of my already oversized shirts or hoodies and shorts, begging me to hold her.

I try not to worry when I call her and she doesn’t pick up. Maybe she went the long way and there was traffic? So I call Niamh to ask her if she knows where Jessie went. She doesn’t have an answer. Then I try Fran, and Zecira, and even Emma.

I ask everyone to try and call her too, Sam offering to take Kristie and search every corner of London, Erin offering the same. It’s midnight by the time I give up trying to contact her, asking Aggie if I could borrow her car tomorrow to look around if she wasn’t back, her living down the road from us. The young forward is insistent on joining me if it comes to it.

When I wake up the next morning and find Jessie curled up against me, in one of my hoodies and shorts, relief washes over me. Her brown curls are messy, her soft pink lips cracked open to allow air into her lungs. The sun trickles in through the curtain and lights up her face, freckles looking like bursts of light against her skin. Her eyes are still puffy from last night and tears have dried upon her cheeks, and I can’t resist the urge to reach up and lightly wipe them away.

As my thumb drags across her tan skin, tracing her face, her eyes flutter open, and I remember how easy it is to get lost in them. So warm and inviting.

“Mornin’ honey.” I press a gentle kiss to her nose, her cheeks, her forehead and her eyelids.

“I’m sorry for last night. I just felt horrible, if only I didn’t make the tackle.”

“I know darl, but that’s what I’m here for. I love you, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you yeah? I was bloody worried though.” Jessie nestles her head into the crook of my neck and nods, pressing her own kisses on any skin she could reach.

I wrap my arms around her and pull her up until she’s laying on my chest instead. My cold hands sneak under her hoodie and she jumps from the shock, swatting at my hands beneath the fabric.

“I reckon I make us some tea and brekkie and then we can do whatever you want all day. How’s that sound?” I flip us over so Jessie can go back to sleep for a while, but she clings onto me, pulling me down aggressively by the front of my old Chelsea travel shirt. Her lips press against mine with energy and love and I get caught up in the feeling. A moan slips past someone’s lips, which of us I’m not quite sure, but I slowly pull away, trailing kisses down her neck until I reach her collar bone.

“Let’s save that energy for later yeah?” I swiftly wink as I finally roll off the bed.

-

I’m making scrambled eggs when I feel Jessie’s arms wrap around my waist. She presses soft kisses across my back as I sway us back and forth to the slow jazz song spewing from the record player.

The next song comes on and I abandon the meal completely, turning off the stove and twisting myself in Jessie’s hold so I can face her. I take one of her hands in mine and rest the other on her waist, her spare landing on my shoulder.

“Put your head on my shoulder; Hold me in your arms, baby” the lyrics continue as we follow along, her head resting against my chest, my chin balanced on top. We dance slowly through the kitchen, the music carrying throughout the house.

As the song finishes, I dip Jessie, leaning over her as her leg kicks out. My gaze flickers between her eyes and her lips and within seconds I’m kissing her again, still in the dip. When I pull her back up, she jumps into my arms and pulls my lips to meet hers for more, the force making me stumble back into the counter behind me.

“I want to slow dance with you around our house when we’re old and can barely kick a ball anymore. Our kids and grandkids playing around while it just feels like the two of us. Because it’s always been the two off us and I never want that to change.” Jessie whispers against my lips. My heart clenches with love as I take her in.

“Will you marry me?” The words escape both our lips almost in complete synchrony. I almost drop her, but my grip on her thighs upholds as I kiss her again, and again, until I can’t kiss her anymore.

-

“I stole this video from Y/n’s phone not long after Jessie and her broke the news of their engagement. Y/n had texted me that morning saying she wanted ideas for a ‘day in the life of a woman in love’ video she planned on making that very day, and I knew that she would have forgotten all about the phone while she and the love of her life shared a special memory together.” Sam takes a pause to look at Jessie and I, sitting side by side at the front of the room.

“What isn’t shown in the video, is the ring that was sitting in the pocket of Yn’s shorts, waiting to be place on the only hand it was made for. The ring went with her everywhere for at least a month before this cute dance proposal. Every day in training, Y/n would tell me a new plan she had come up with to ask Jessie to marry her, and I always told her ‘you should do it when the moment feels right. Don’t force it.’, as I clearly had experience with this sort of thing… And she told me that was a bunch of absolute bullshit.” Our friends and family laugh while my wife’s face drops in shock, her elbow lightly nudging my side. I let out a snicker and kiss her cheek, wiping off the lipstick residue that is left behind.

“Well it turns out I was right. As always. And I’m honoured to be standing here as a best woman in front of two of my best friends, the most amazing young players out there, two people who were made for each other; sculpted by the stars and the earth, to be in each other’s lives, celebrating that love. You’ve both overcome a lot, personally and as a couple, you deserve this love.” A tear escapes my eye as I stand to hug Sam.

“Now can the two nerds please make their way to the dance floor for their first dance?” I take Jessie’s hand in mine and pull her along.

Her suit coat is left on the back of my chair and her waistcoat is unbuttoned and she looks fucking good. Her hair rests on her shoulders and her slack pants fit perfectly around her thighs. Jessie holds part of my dress train, so we don’t trip as we hold each other in similar fashion to the day that led to this, the same song playing on the large speakers in each corner of the room.

“Put your head on my shoulder Whisper in my ear, baby Words I want to hear, tell me Tell me that you love me too”.

Jessie stands on her tippy toes, my heels not helping our height difference.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[amethyst0cean]

My sister was telling me the other night that the episode "Double Cross My Heart" is hated by most and I wanted to give my thoughts of it. After watching it with her, I think it's a good episode overall 😊

Sam having a crush on Danny, while also having feelings for Gregor makes sense in this episode. Having crushes with more than one person at a time does happen and it's not unusual; Danny has a crush on three girls at once (Paulina, Valerie, and Sam) which has been shown throughout the series. Sam having one with more than one person as well seems fair to me in that regard, and Danny being uncomfortable with that shows that he also has feelings for Sam that he's unaware of in that moment. It's an early depiction of jealously.

Danny makes a horrible decision in the episode to spy on Sam during her date with Gregor. Danny thinks Gregor has something to do with the Guys in White since they keep showing up at the same time to go after Danny while Gregor is around. I also believe him feeling a little jealous and not quite understanding that it relates to him liking Sam also plays an important part of why he wanted to see what was going on during their date.

Sam and Gregor kiss (Danny's POV): Danny sees something he didn't want to see, and it hurts him. He was expecting to find a relation between Gregor and the Guys in White but instead he sees that Sam and Gregor like each other more than what he thought. I understood how he felt here because it sucks seeing someone you like kiss someone else 🥺 Although of course he shouldn't have been spying in the first place 😅

Sam and Gregor kiss (Sam's POV): I really like that we get to see Sam's POV of her relationship in this episode as well. She asks Gregor if they think they are going a little too fast, and he respects how she feels and they both decide to take it slow. Sam being honest with her feelings was great to see as well and shows that she knows how to handle herself well in these situations 🥹

Danny confronts Sam about what he saw and she is reasonably angry at him for spying on her during her date. He still mentions his suspicions about Gregor and the Guys in White and Sam tells him that he just doesn't want to see her happy with someone. Both of their feelings are valid here but Danny was still in the wrong for breaking Sam's trust and boundaries and Sam had every right to be upset with Danny for that. Tucker lets Danny know afterwards that he can hang out with Sam and Gregor for him and will let him know if he sees anything suspicious from Gregor. I really liked seeing their friendship dynamic here; that Tucker was able to help Danny feel a little better with his idea and be there for him 🥹

Tucker is obnoxious third-wheeling Sam and Gregor's date (which was pretty funny at times), and he later tells Danny that he didn't see anything strange about Gregor which confirms to Danny that he was wrong about what he thought with Gregor and the Guys in White. I really do appreciate that Danny respects Sam's space after their argument and he doesn't try spying on her again.

Gregor confronts Danny knowing that Danny doesn't like him and learns from Danny that he was worried about Sam. When asking Danny if he likes Sam, Danny hesitates for a moment, and that lets Gregor know that Danny is unsure of his feelings. It gives Gregor free reign to ask Sam out, which Danny was definitely displeased with. He should let Sam know he likes her soon 🥹

I really like how Sam responds to Gregor here. He expresses to Sam that he wants to be more than friends with her, but doesn't want Tucker around with them because he thinks he's a loser. Sam immediately stands up for Tucker and says that he's one of her best friends and he comes with the whole package if Gregor wants to be with Sam. Gregor gets frustrated and starts showing his true colours, that he has a fake accent, name, and lied about where he's from to impress Sam. He really did seem like a cool guy throughout the episode until this point which was a shame that he had to be a sleazy person 🥲 I'm glad that Gregor was not a part of the Guys in White, that he had his own plot separate from them. Sam showing that she cares about her friendship with Tucker was also nice to see during this scene 🥹

I love the ending as well when Sam and Danny make up; where they both apologize to each other. Sam wasn't in the wrong for not believing Danny about Gregor because she had no clue he's been lying to her, and Danny didn't know that either of course. He also apologizes for betraying Sam's trust and spying on her, which I appreciate. Danny can make bad decisions and still make up for it afterwards 😊 Seeing Sam's insecurity about no one who's genuine liking her is really sad to me because even though she's a hard core goth with a tough exterior to her at times, deep down she wants to be liked for who she is. Danny lets her know how amazing of a person she is and also showing how much he likes her as well (we all see it Danny 😏).

Overall I really enjoyed this episode 😊 Sam, Danny, and Tucker all had good roles during it and you see how much they all care about each other. They all felt like themselves too; they didn't feel out of character to me. I may be a little bias since I like Sam and Danny's relationship 🥹 The only thing I wish we saw more of is Danny and Sam's relationship progress more throughout the series instead of just a couple of episodes and then not do anything about it later from what happens in them (the Ember episode in S1 with Danny and Sam blushing at each other a lot as an example). From the episodes I have seen of them though, I really like how their friendship and relationship is portrayed and I can't wait to see more of it as time goes (I hope they show it more) 🥹

[bipstargirl]

I could do one with Sam Carpenter where the reader doesn't like touch and Sam gets upset about it, but he never says anything, the reader realizes that and little by little he lets go, taking Sam's hand and stuff...

Thank you so much for requesting, sweetheart! Aliás é brasileiro/a é?

❝ Unspoken Comfort ❞

feel free to request any headcanon here 🠒 headcanons list

The evening sky painted hues of pink and orange as Sam and you strolled through the park. The couple had been together for several months, and your love for each other grew stronger with each passing day. Yet, there was something you couldn't ignore – your discomfort with physical touch.

Sam was a naturally affectionate person, and she showed her love through hugs, kisses, and holding hands. But you weren't as comfortable with physical contact. You cherished Sam and your relationship, but the feeling of being touched sometimes made you uneasy. You felt guilty about it, knowing how much Sam enjoyed these intimate gestures.

While you were sitting on a park bench, Sam noticed your distant expression and lack of response to her usual affectionate gestures. Concerned, she gently squeezed your hand.

"Hey, is everything okay?"

You hesitated, not wanting to upset Sam, but you knew you needed to be honest.

"I just… I'm not very comfortable with physical touch. It's not you; it's just something I struggle with."

Sam nodded, trying to hide her disappointment, but she understood your boundaries. She didn't want to push you into something that made you uncomfortable. So, without saying anything, she decided to give you space.

As weeks passed, Sam refrained from initiating physical touch, opting for other ways to show her affection. She found herself feeling a bit hurt and confused, but she didn't want to burden you with her emotions.

One evening, you were watching a movie together, and you shifted closer to Sam, instinctively seeking her warmth and comfort. Sam noticed but stayed still, giving you the chance to set the pace.

Feeling a mix of nerves and curiosity, you finally gathered the courage to take Sam's hand in yours. You were surprised by how reassuring and comforting it felt. Sam's face lit up with a soft smile, and she gently squeezed your hand in response.

With each passing day, you felt more at ease around Sam. You initiated small touches – a quick peck on the cheek, a hand resting on her shoulder, or a warm hug from behind. Sam reciprocated every gesture with joy, never pushing for more and letting you lead the way.

Over time, your walls began to crumble, and you found comfort in Sam's touch. It no longer felt invasive or uncomfortable; instead, it became a language of love and connection.

One night, as you lay together, wrapped in each other's arms, you whispered.

"Thank you for being patient with me."

Sam placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

"Of course. I'll always respect your boundaries and make sure you're comfortable. But I'm grateful you let me in."

You smiled, realizing that Sam's unspoken understanding and patience were the foundation of your love. It wasn't just about physical touch; it was about acceptance, trust, and finding comfort in each other's hearts.

As your relationship deepened, you both learned that love was about cherishing every aspect of your partner, even the ones that made you vulnerable. With Sam's understanding and your willingness to open up, you found a love that surpassed words and touch – a love that spoke volumes through unspoken gestures of care and affection.

[copperbadge]

Sam, how did you find your therapist and build such a good working relationship? Every attempt I’ve made at therapy seems to fizzle out after a few months… and no therapist has ever understood the RSD aspect of my ADHD, which makes it all feel a little worse every time I try.

I mean, I think really we're still building it -- I haven't had her more than a couple of months and functionally it's been an every-two-weeks situation most of the time because we keep having to move/cancel. I don't know that I can really speak intelligently to building a relationship with a therapist because this is the first time I've ever done it where I was an adult and in control. As for finding one...

Chicago has a group called Clarity Clinic, which is like a WeWork for mental health professionals -- they offer scheduling, billing, and IT/office space to local people who I think are mostly independent operators otherwise. They have a directory that is highly filterable, so I found my psychiatrist there by filtering to stuff like Adult ADHD and medication management. He's great, but he didn't want to be my therapist and I didn't want him to. When I decided on therapy, I asked him if he knew anyone he could recommend, since he knew what my deal was in terms of personality, behavior, etc.

So he gave me a couple of names of fellow Clarity Clinic folks and I had a look on the website and chose the one that sounded like she'd get on best with me. I think I struck it lucky to be honest -- she's young (compared to me) and has ADHD, and she's very familiar with disability discourse, spoon theory, etc, even fandom to an extent. If I were to go looking today I might look more at therapists who specialize in twice-exceptional individuals, but she's good enough with what I'm aiming at that I don't want to change.

So the best advice I have is if you're being treated for other stuff by someone you trust I'd ask them, but also look for someone experienced with adult ADHD, and I'd look for someone on the younger side who's more likely to be understanding of neurodivergent needs. (I also recommend filtering to queer-friendly therapists if you can; I didn't necessarily need that but it means they're likely to be generally accepting and probably have more liberal politics. With the caveat that in shady places like BetterHealth, "LGBTQIA" counselors are sometimes homophobic creeps with an axe to grind.)

Building the relationship has taken proactivity on my part -- ensuring that I always have an appointment on the books (we book out about six weeks in advance now, because we know one of us will likely need to cancel/rebook at times), making sure that I have either an aim for treatment or at least something to talk about, etc. I think in your case probably having a list of things you want to deal with, so that you can check some boxes up top, might help.

I would definitely open with "I have ADHD and I need help with [aspects of that]; I also have RSD and I need to work with someone who respects that diagnosis and understands how to help with it." I went into mine saying "I have ADHD and I'm also struggling with some really big emotion, so I'm looking for help with those, but also like...I'm not really sure what therapy can offer. I've had some bad experiences in the past but they were all when I was a child, so I'm trying to explore some options." Her reaction was a combination of sympathy and a discussion of the kinds of things we might work on, which helped a great deal.

But yeah, I think it starts with establishing right from the jump what you want and need, and then spending time making sure that you both stay on top of that until you find a rhythm. We're still finding our rhythm, but it's getting easier as I'm learning to be clearer about what I want and more comfortable with being a participant instead of someone therapy just happens to.

[starlitangels]

Power Play (Not that Kind) - Part 2 [Ficlet]

I wasn’t going to do this but here it is. I had a lot of things left to say 858 words Part 1

Spoilers for the new video, obviously

—

Darlin’

Knock-knock-knock!

The door opened faster than I expected. “Well. I certainly wasn’t expecting to see you here. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Porter asked. His smirk had curiosity and a touch of salaciousness to it.

I made a face. “Stow it with the pleasantries. You don’t seem to care for them. I don’t care for them. I’m getting right to the point.”

He leaned against the door jamb. “I can respect that.”

“Great. Then let me make some things clear about where I stand in all of this. Since I didn’t get the chance to the other day.” I set my closed fists on my hips. “First of all: I don’t care about your beef with Vincent. Despite you both acting otherwise, you’re both grown-ass men. You can figure it out. It’s not my business and it’s not my problem.

“Secondly: I have no emotional stakes in any of this. I’m even willing to let you insulting my mate to my face slide. For his sake. My first loyalty is to Sam. And he’s angling for enough of a ceasefire that this summit doesn’t turn into a bloodbath. And I stand by him with regards to that.

“But thirdly: I have watched too many unempowered humans be manipulated, abused, and hurt by vampires playing their stupid mind games. Including my best friend. The only person who stood by my side at the lowest point in my life.

“So let me make it very clear to you that if anything happens to this lover of yours because of you, you will have to deal with me and then you and I will have a problem. Understood?”

Porter just smiled. Lopsided. One fang poking out. “I assure you, my shifter friend, I have no intention of hurting them.”

I didn’t change my expression. Kept it flat and impassive. “Good,” I said. “I’ve lost my faith in the phrase ‘trust, but verify’ so I’ll believe that when I see it. But you giving me your word means that if you go back on it, my problem with you doubles.”

“Oh I’d imagine nothing less,” he crooned. I still didn’t shift my facial expression.

I’d fought Quinn—50, turned by Old Blood—and two vampires at once and survived. This guy wouldn’t even compare if a fight broke out between me and him.

“So long as we’re on the same page. Thank you for your time.” I turned around and stalked away from his door. I heard it shut behind me—right after I caught his quiet chuckle.

—

Lovely

I sat down next to Vincent—who was visibly stressed and fuming—on the couch in our living room. I said nothing. Just set my hand on his knee. He put his hand on top of mine and squeezed, not looking away from his laptop.

I’d felt everything he hadn’t said to Porter along the bond between us. I hadn’t heard the words in his mind, but I didn’t need to. I knew the basics:

“I died in a traumatic accident. William turned me to save my life and didn’t ask permission. And in doing so ripped everything away from me. Everything and everyone I had ever loved was gone. The only life I knew. The person I was died that night. I just wanted to go home but I couldn’t. Because I was dead to everyone who loved me before. William doesn’t make me guard Wonder World because it’s the place that tore my life away from me.”

Vincent would never say any of that to Porter, despite the fact that the context could clear up a lot of muddy water between them. He didn’t believe any of it was Porter’s business. And far be it from me to try to convince him otherwise. He expressed all the context to Porter that he was currently willing to share and that was fine. Heaven knew I wouldn’t want to tell someone I didn’t care much for the intricate details of everything I’d been through.

I leaned against Vincent's arm and set my face on his shoulder. He tilted his head to rest his cheek on my head. He kept working on logistics for the summit. Everything else had ground to a stop in terms of his obligations to the company so he could work on the summit.

"You gonna be okay?" I asked softly.

"I'll be okay if I never have to see that prick's face again," Vincent growled.

"Vin," I chided. "You're talking to me, not him."

Vincent sighed. "I know. I'm sorry, lovely." He finally looked away from his laptop to sling both arms around me. "He's right about one thing though. You've got one hell of a right hook."

"Well, I learned from the best," I replied.

Vincent nodded. "Sam's shifter."

I laughed. "Yes. Sam's shifter." I nudged him with my elbow. "You had something to do with my training too, y'know."

He shrugged and kissed the top of my head. "Sure." He sighed. "I love you. I'm sorry for everything, but I'm glad you were there with me."

"I'll always be there to support you when you need me, Vincent."

—

Tag list: Tag list: @zozo-01 @thegoldenlittlerose @shellssstuff @darlin-collins @pinksparkl

[gradienta]

Interview with the Vampire - S2E4 [Part 1]

I never doubted you, Mr Molloy.

I love how different Louis and Armand's recollections of the events are. They were never on the same page, but, surprisingly, Louis was more on the same page with Lestat after the attempted murder. Lestat always knew for sure when his lover was unhappy.

Claudia always showed her attitude, and I guess that's why Louis was less likely to believe her that time. Maybe he blamed her for murdering Lestat (Dreamstat said, "Debatable," when Louis claimed he had it coming). Maybe he didn't want to jeopardise whatever was happening with Armand because he was almost happy and she'd ruin everything. I think Louis blamed her for his own guilt too.

Santiago wanted to antogonise Armand so hard he accidentally joined Claudia's side. Nice :) Was he wrong though? He was chaotic, but with principles. You've got to respect that.

Maybe Armand understood how unfair he was to everyone compared to Louis while Louis couldn't even say they were companions. They weren't on the same page.

I just... I don't get Armand.

The French menace is back! Love him. Does Dreamstat have to be so stunningly beautiful? Louis. Louis, you love him so much. You want him back, you want him to indulge your every whim and ask you to dance and be irritatingly bitchy and just there. You want him to never leave you.

Ahahaha, Dreamstat is such a clown. Unmatched.

While Louis was living in a drama full of remorse, Claudia was living in a thriller, Armand - tragic romance story, but Dreamstat? He was in a dark comedy.

Louis touched Armand with his foot and told him he loved him. What. What :D :D :D :D

(SAY NO, MON CHER) :D :D :D :D THIS IS AMAZING

Armand was not excited to learn that - to say the least.

Claudia and Louis weren't careful enough. Lestat hadn't been lying about European vampires being vicious.

Santiago, the cunt that you are :)

Soo... Is Armand breaking his own laws by being with Louis, and only Louis' affection is what's stopping him from killing Claudia and him? "Tender can turn to tinder" - IS THIS WHAT HAPPENED???

Santiago, the wonderful cunt that you are! Truly chaotic neutral.

Ahahah Claudia's woman is such a bitch, I love it for your both!

Santiago, stop being jealous. You'd slept with Armand, you had your share. Louis is absolutely attractive, stop lying.

SAM'S WORKING ON A NEW PLAY? THE TRIAL???

I hate it. Louis is finally happy, he's so excited to be part of the artistic community, and Armand is going to ruin every fucking thing.

"I couldn't prevent it" - asshole. He stopped the whole restaurant without blinking. Also, Santiago was pissed and plotting.

Armand was so fragile he couldn't prevent anything, sure sure sure of course of course.

But that French woman? Wow.

Lestat is still the only one Louis can trust. Dreamstat is there, supporting him, listening to him.

This. Show. Is. A. Comedy.

Sam was writing the play and Armand was having walks with Louis??? Lestat would never. Lestat started plotting to get them all away as soon as he sensed danger.

Is Madeleine sedusing Claudia with such stories? What a wicked woman :D

When your lover's in trial for murder - it's not a good situation to use your powers, is it?

Dreamstat is THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD I want Dreamlouis for real Lestat, please.

Uh-oh. Louis and Armand are going to destroy each other with the information they have.

He doesn't want to be the coven leader?

Louis is asking himself if he's the sum of all his mistakes, and Armand's asking if he's the memories and the job. What about seeking a therapist's help?

Her hand in marriage, please. I'll fight Claudia for it and I'll lose.

When exactly did Armand decide to get rid of Claudia and Louis? After Santiago overheard him? Before? WHEN???

If Dreamstat is Louis being honest using his lover's voice, Louis regrets Claudia and thinks Armand's a gremlin. He's right.

Amazing. You're making the worst mistake of your life after making Claudia, Louis. Is Claudia doing it again, trying to break him up with his lover? Yes. Does she have a reason? Absolutely. Is her approach ruining his life again? Yep.

He's doubting - he's good with fire when he's angry. Shame his doubt won't lead anywhere. He's actively silencing every voice of reason.

He seeks comfort from the man he tried to kill - poetic cinema.

Does Louis choose Armand on that day because he keeps regretting not choosing Lestat? He probably doesn't want to feel lonely because of Claudia again.

He chose Armand, and the coven chose to end him.

[tenebraevesper]

Five Nights at Freddy's: Obsolete, Night 14: The Game Continues

''Reawaken the fears that you know and summon the shadows that quickly grow. The lingering of our mechanical appearance, leaving you paralyzed in a box of defense. Are you fearless? The wires that surround you are closing in. Where can you go? He is getting closer, you can feel you're not alone. Repairing familiar faces, but one mistake and you are gone for sure. So stay alive from the violence you've endured!''

– Haunted Reality by PsychoticFox (Five Nights at Freddy's: Help Wanted)

xXxXxXx

Sam stared at the screen before her, at the tiny game icon on it, holding the VR headset. Even though she was adamant about playing the Halloween DLC, even though it was way past Halloween, she decided to wait until the weekend, when she had enough free time to play through the game DLC in one day. Frankly, it was a rather awkward week for her, considering Springtrap's return and the fact that she was still furious at him for what happened months ago. To her surprise, or perhaps, she should've expected it, Springtrap respected her wishes and gave her space to process the situation and her own feelings. If she ignored him, he didn't try to talk to her, but Sam noticed the hopeful glances sent her way, only to turn ito disappointment when she gave him the cold shoulder. Even if they wanted to talk, Sam had been too busy with school and her work at Freddy's, so things were a bit of a blur.

So, once her schedule cleared, she walked straight into the guest room, or perhaps, it was now just Springtrap's room, telling him, ''I'll be playing the Halloween DLC today.''

Springtrap perked up, clearly more happy about the fact that Sam was talking to him for once than the information they might get from the Halloween DLC, and waited for her to set up everything. Emma had already left for work earlier that morning, but she gave them a dubious look in regards to hearing how Sam's plan for today was to play a video game. Springtrap understood that Sam probably didn't tell anything to Emma about Glitchtrap, and while he knew that Emma would be interested in their activities, this was above what either of them were comfortable sharing.

''I wonder what Glitchtrap will have prepared for us this time,'' Sam said, looking at Springtrap, who was sitting on her bed.

''I wish I knew, but I can only make assumptions,'' Springtrap responded.

''Of course,'' Sam responded in a snarky tone, with Springtrap's ears drooping.

''Trust me, if I knew what was going on, I would've told you everything,'' he said, sounding a bit hurt. Sam didn't seem to care about that though, turning on the game instead.

''I know. Anyways, I'm starting the game. If anything suspicious happens, just close the laptop. That should also shut down the game,'' she told him. Springtrap nodded in acknowledgement, observing her as she placed the VR headset on. He then got up, looking at the screen of the laptop to watch her progress.

''So, this is the Halloween DLC…'' Sam mumbled under her breath as she found herself at the main hub, noting the cupcake bucket with a remote inside it.

''Congratulations. It appears you have been granted access to additional holiday content. Press the special button in the candy pail to enter the Halloween hub. Keep in mind that this DLC pack is nothing more than a festive holiday themed ad-on which has absolutely no hidden intent or purpose. So, have fun!''

Sam snorted, shaking her head. ''Yeah, I sincerely doubt that this DLC pack has no hidden intent or purpose.'' She looked around, finding a green bunny plushie next to her, and picked it up. ''Oh, hey, look who is here!''

''Is that Glitchtrap?'' Springtrap asked, leaning over her shoulder as he looked at the screen.

''Yeah, he is,'' Sam replied, looking around the main hub. ''It doesn't appear that he is anywhere at the hub in his normal form.'' She then grinned, grabby a candy bar from the table and fed it to the Glitchtrap plushie, then patted it on the head. ''Okay, now be a good murderous virus and let me play the game to figure out what's your deal.''

She then promptly turned around and threw the plushie away.

''Uh, was that a good idea?'' Springtrap asked, feeling both baffled and impressed by her audacity.

''He deserved that,'' Sam responded, pressing the button and entering the DLC properly. The first thing she and Springtrap saw was some desolate area with pumpkins and bare trees, and a projector showed the title of the DLC.

''Curse of Dreadbear,'' Springtrap read it, with Sam then looking up. Suddenly, there was a lightning strike, briefly illuminated the figure with glowing yellow eyes looming over them. It was clearly a bear with bolts attached to his neck. ''I suppose that's the titular Dreadbear.''

Sam looked around the area, trying to see whether there was anything of interest, and she was surprised to spot Withered Bonnie in the distance. As lighting illuminated the area again, she could also see Withered Chica. Once she couldn't find anything else, she pressed the nearby button to proceed and finally found herself at the Halloween Hub.

It looked like she was at some kind of abandoned farm area, with a shack nearby, pumpkins decorating her surroundings, a banner with Fallfest 83' hanging behind her, a malfunctioning car in the distance with its lights flickering, and a tractor on the other side. She then pulled the switch on the table before her, causing everything to be coated in purple light, but didn't find anything. She returned the hub back to normal and focused on the screen before here.

''Okay, so it looks like there are three new game modes: Afraid of the Dark featuring Plushkin Patch, Pirate Ride and Corn Maze, Spooky Mansion featuring Hallway, Build-A-Mangle, Trick or Treat and Dreadbear, and Danger! Keep Out! featuring Night 01, and what I assume to be Night 02 and Night 03,'' Sam sighed. ''Okay, depending on how hard those games are, it might take me longer than I assumed to complete them.''

''I wish you good luck with all of them,'' Springtrap said. Sam stretched out her arms, selecting one of the mini-games, called Hallway Crawl, and started the game properly.

''Woah, is that the Five Nights at Freddy's 4 house?'' Sam was surprised, listening to the wind blowing and storm outside. Springtrap watched her as she slowly walked through the hallway, only to notice an animatronic hiding in the shadows, with Sam suddenly stopping as she realized that this was a game of Red Light, Green Light with the Nightmare Animatronics. ''Okay, there is Nightmare Bonnie and… am I being followed?'' She turned around, only to see the faint outline of another animatronic. ''Goddamnit, I'm on a timer here!''

Springtrap watched her as she made her way through the hallway as carefully as possible, when Nightmare Foxy suddenly appeared, jumpscaring her when she made a move. Sam was startled, crying out in surprise, only to find herself at the Game Over screen.

''Aw, com'n… What the-?!'' Sam was surprised to see a giant Dreadbear looming over her. ''Where did you come from? Oh, and hello!'' She had turned around, finding what looked like Nightmare Foxy set on fire standing behind a gate and dragging his sickle-like hook down the stone pillar. She had to admit, they certainly made the game creepy. ''Okay, I suppose I should've expected that.''

''They certainly nailed the Halloween atmosphere,'' Springtrap commented as Sam restarted the game. He wasn't exactly a huge video game enthusiast, but he had to admit that the Halloween DLC had certainly a lot of effort put into it. He was also a bit fascinated with how video game technology advanced, to the point where they could use headsets like the one Sam had to immerse themselves into the video game. He muttered to himself, ''I still remembered when Pong was popular…''

''What's Pong?'' Sam rose an eyebrow as she made it through the hallway successfully and into a room that looked exactly like the child's room from Five Nights at Freddy's 4. She was then taken to a barn decorated for a party, with a banner hanging over a prize box, congratulating her on winning the game. She quickly grabbed her prize, a piece of candy, and went for the next game, Plushkin Patch.

''Pong was basically a table tennis game, and one of the first arcades Henry and I had ordered for Fredbear's, and later on Freddy's,'' Springtrap explained, his ears lowering and his tone filled with clear disappointment about the lack of recognition. Sam shrugged, too busy with keeping eye on the Circus Baby plushies. Springtrap took a step back, letting her complete the game and noting how Sam wasn't exactly interested in talking to him.

It took a bit, but Sam eventually made it to the next game, Build-A-Mangle, and as the instructor helpfully explained, she needed to gather the components to build an animatronic, while also shocking everything that wasn't supposed to be on the assembly line, like an annoying Freddle.

''No, animatronic engineering is not as simple as this guy says,'' Springtrap said, a bit amused that Sam basically got fired over the animatronic abomination she had built.

''That's true,'' Sam responded, picking out the next game, Pirate Ride. ''Oh, wow, a shooter mini-game!'' She smiled happily when she saw Foxy in his pirate attire giving her instructions on what to do in the game. ''Okay, let's try to get through this in one go.''

''You're pretty good at this,'' Springtrap commented as Sam proceeded to hit the targets in one or two shots.

''If you think that flattering me will get you anywhere, you're mistaken,'' Sam responded in a cold, matter-of-fact tone, with Springtrap feeling a bit hurt by her comment. He was well aware that he hadn't been completely forgiven, but he still hoped that Sam wouldn't be as bitter as she was before. It appeared that he was mistaken.

''So, what is this one about…'' Sam muttered as she moved on to the next mini-game, that being Trick or Treat. She found herself at a door with a Foxy-shaped knocker and six masks, that being of Foxy, Freddy and Balloon Boy on one side and Mangle, Chica and Bonnie on the other side. She pressed the doorbell, noticing the animatronics inside the house, and quickly realized what she was supposed to do as music played, along with ticking and the animatronics moving around. She quickly put the Foxy mask on once she realized that he was missing, and as expected, Withered Foxy opened the door.

''This game doesn't appear to be particularly difficult,'' Springtrap commented.

''That's because you're not the one playing it… Mangle, get off there!'' Sam was annoyed that Mangle obstructed her view, but managed to put a Chica mask on just in time for Withered Chica to open the door. ''It's a completely different experience when you're playing it instead of watching.''

''Okay, I believe you,'' Springtrap responded, with Sam placing the Balloon Boy mask just before Balloon Boy opened the door. Fortunately for her, she just needed survive three rounds to win all the games.

''What does make me curious is how I haven't really found anything in relation to Glitchtrap aside from the plushie earlier. You'd think there was more to this game,'' Sam said, this time deciding to play Night 01 on Danger! Keep Out!. She found herself back at the Five Nights at Freddy's office, this time decorated with a carved pumpkin and Jack-O-Bonnie and Jack-O-Chica trying to get into the office through the boarded doors. ''Ah, so we're going back to the basics.''

Springtrap observed her as she successfully fended off both animatronics, flashing lights at the two animatronics. He still thought that she made it look very easy. She eventually made it to 6 AM, with nothing eventful happening, and hovered with her hand over Night 02, only to go back to the Pirate Ride.

''Why don't you continue the Night?'' Springtrap asked her.

''I… I don't know. I just feel like I missed something at the Pirate Ride. I only got First Mate ranking, and I know I hit every target. There was to be more to it,'' Sam responded. Springtrap tilted his head, only to realize that her gut feeling was right when Helpy suddenly appeared and Sam hit him. This led her to an area where she had to shoot targets before she got attacked by Jack-O-Bonnie and Jack-O-Chica. ''Now, that's what I'm talking about! Still, there don't seem to be any secrets.''

It took a while, but eventually, Sam explored all of the areas of the Pirate Ride, having restarted the game several times, but there wasn't really anything of interest there. Eventually, she returned to the main hub and decided to go for the Dreadbear mini-game.

''Welcome back to Research and Development. Today, we are using science to pervert the mysteries of life and reanimate the inanimate. To begin, it is customary for the creator to give a melodramatic speech. Go on. I'll wait…''

''Uh, Springtrap, do you want to do the honors? You're the melodramatic evil scientist guy, you'd know what to say,'' Sam asked, turning to where she assumed Springtrap to be standing. All she got was a groan in response, and even though she couldn't see it, an eye-roll, causing her to giggle.

''All done? Good job. Let's wake our little experiment with a controlled shock. Throw the switch, then lower the platform.''

''This feels like something out of Frankestein,'' Sam said as Dreadbear was lowered down and she started the experiment by shocking the animatronic.

''It's alive, but lacking the necessary control module. Namely, the brain. So, let's calibrate one. Use the laboratory tools to adjust the brain's vital characteristics. Use the pull-down blueprints as a guide for matching the correct colors, size, and neural feedback loop. When you are satisfied, carefully place the brain in the creature's animatronic head cavity.''

''Maybe this game doesn't have any secrets,'' Sam said suddenly as she started matching colours with Dreadbear's brain.

''What makes you think that?'' Springtrap asked, narrowing his eyes.

''Well, this seems like a completely normal Halloween DLC. There are no secret messages or tapes or anything… or maybe I wasn't looking hard enough,'' Sam responded, finishing the mini-game and returning to the main hub. ''I still got three more mini-games to play. Maybe I'll get something if I finish the whole game.''

''Maybe… I will say, I do have a lot of fun playing this game,'' Sam responded, going for Night 02 and Night 03 in Danger! Keep Out!. Night 02 added Grimm Foxy, while Night 03 added Dreadbear to the game, but she still managed to get through it with not much difficulty. ''Okay, I got one more game left, Corn Maze.''

''Do you want to take a break?'' Springtrap asked as Sam lingered in the main hub.

''I guess…'' she said, looking around the main hub and trying to see if anything was different. To her surprise, she spotted a button on the side of the monitor, having not seen it earlier. She pressed it, but nothing happened. Frowning, she turned the whole hub into Blacklight Mode and then pressed it. ''Do you see anything, Springtrap?''

''No… There doesn't seem to be…'' Springtrap squinted his eyes as he stared at the monitor, only to notice a figure in the distance. ''Wait, stop right there!''

''Where?'' Sam asked, not moving,

''There on the hill, do you see it?'' Springtrap asked, with Sam squinting her eyes. To her surprise, there was a figure on the hill, dancing and swaying in a familiar manner.

''Wait, is that… Glitchtrap?'' she asked, feeling chills down her spine. ''Yeah, it looks like him.''

''It doesn't appear as if he's going to approach you,'' Springtrap noted.

''Yeah, it looks like this one needs to be activated deliberately. It's not less creepy, though,'' Sam responded, and then selected the Corn Maze mini-game. Finding herself in the titular maze, she soon learned that she was being hunted down by Grimm Foxy, and to hide from him, she needed to get behind the cardboard character signs. She eventually came across a red key, realizing that this was probably her way out of this place. ''How many keys are there?'' She wondered as she found a green one. She also noted that Grimm Foxy got more and more aggressive the more keys she collected, but she could deal with him if she waited at one of the character signs and hid behind it, letting Grimm Foxy run past her. This game was long and tedious, especially since she wanted to win it on her first attempt, and she couldn't rush things. Fortunately, she had managed to find all four keys, and now all that was left was to escape the maze.

''Do you know how to get out?'' Springtrap asked her as she started to aimlessly wander around the maze.

''I'm just exploring,'' Sam responded, not wanting to admit that she had no clue where she was going. However, it seemed that her aimless wandering did benefit her in some way, as she found one more key, which turned the top of her flashlight purple. ''Great, now where is the exit?''

''Over there is a cellar,'' Springtrap pointed out, with Sam sprinting towards it and quickly opening it before Grimm Foxy could get to her.

''This doesn't look like the actual exit. It is more… what the-?!'' Sam was genuinely surprised when she found a mask lying on the table. It was a white and brown rabbit mask with red eyes. She stared at it in stunned silence. ''That… I don't think that's supposed to be here.''

''I think you should pick it up,'' Springtrap told her, with Sam following his instructions and putting the mask on. There was some heavy breathing, and the screen turned black, only for her to return to the title screen for the Halloween DLC.

''Okay, that was weird,'' Sam said, lifting the VR headset up and rubbing her eyes. She had been playing this DLC game for around two hours at this point and her eyes and head began to hurt. ''I wonder what that rabbit mask is all about.''

''It doesn't look to me like any character belonging to the Freddy's franchise,'' Springtrap replied. ''The only rabbit character that was ever present was Bonnie and his counterparts.''

''In other words, it is possible that this is what we've been searching for,'' Sam responded. She returned to the Halloween Hub, but after messing around with it, she couldn't find the rabbit mask, so she returned to the main game's hub. There, she spotted the Glitchtrap plushie next to her and picked it up. ''Okay, I need answers. What is up with the rabbit mask?''

''I don't think the plushie is going to provide you with an answer,'' Springtrap told her in a somewhat snarky tone. Sam frowned.

''Thanks for pointing that out, Mr. Obvious. I knew that already,'' she replied, deciding to look around the main hub area to see if she could find anything. Fortunately for her, the rabbit mask was at the Prize Corner. Sam picked it up, only to remember something. ''Hey, wait, didn't Tape Girl say that one of the previous players, Jeremy, made some kind of Halloween mask? What if this was it?''

''Do you really want to put it on?'' Springtrap asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

''I came so far, and I'm not going to run away from a mask,'' Sam replied, then glanced at the mask and then at the Glitchtrap plushie she was still holding. She then put on the mask and grabbed the Glitchtrap plushie, only to feel chills when a message started playing.

''Yes, I hear you. I know... No. There's no miscommunication... I understand... Yes, I have it. I made it myself. I think you would like it... No, no one suspects anything... Don't worry, I'll be ready, and I won't let you down. It will be fun.''

Sam froze, then quickly took off the VR headset, shaking her head as she processed what she just heard. ''D-Did you…''

''Yeah,'' Springtrap nodded, a grim look on his expression. ''Are you okay?''

''I'm just a bit tired,'' Sam replied, closing the game and sitting down on her bed, pressing her head against her temple. She figured that the headache she felt was the result of playing the Halloween DLC without a moment of rest. Springtrap sat next to her, still worried about her, but he didn't say anything. Instead, Sam rose her voice, ''That woman that works with my Dad, Vanessa, she sent me all of this stuff. What if she works together with Glitchtrap? I mean, with that message and mask… Would it be possible?''

''I'm not sure, but considering all the things that happened to you, this Glitchtrap entity may have hold more power than either of us had assumed,'' Springtrap said, his eyes narrowing. He wasn't really sure how to feel about the whole situation, considering how Glitchtrap was him, but was also an individual separate from him. Even though he knew what had happened, it still felt hard to comprehend what had happened.

''I wonder if I should send an e-mail to Vanessa to tell her that I completed the game. Although, I do feel that that would be a bad idea,'' Sam replied.

''If your gut feeling tells you that you shouldn't do it, then don't. After all, you always trusted it in the past,'' Springtrap said. Sam looked up at him, her eyes narrowed.

''You mean like the time I decided to bring you home even though you almost murdered me,'' she replied in a  snarky tone. Springtrap felt a sting of guilt as he remembered that event. He felt as if it had been a long time since that happened, even though it was only a few months ago.

''I regret… what had happened. You know that,'' Springtrap told her.

''Yeah, you regret it now,'' Sam said casually, leaning back against the wall. Both were silent for a bit, only for Sam to start the conversation again, ''Hey, Will…'' she said, drawing Springtrap attention. ''Is it really true that you have returned just because of me?''

Springtrap glanced at her, answering her question without hesitation, but still with a hint of curiosity in his tone, ''Of course I did. I had no regrets in death besides not apologizing to you.''

''Really? No other regrets?'' Sam pressed.

''I'm fairly certain I said all I wanted to those who knew me,'' Springtrap responded, giving Sam a questioning look. In turn, Sam sighed, biting her lip as she clearly wanted to say something else, but didn't know how to express herself. ''You know, Sam, I can handle some brutal honesty. So, if there is anything on your mind-''

''I'm sorry,'' Sam blurted out, cutting Springtrap off. He just stared at her in stunned silence, with Sam continuing, ''I shouldn't have yelled at you when you came back.''

''Sam, you and I know both that you had a good reason for that. After all, I did leave you without any explanation,'' Springtrap responded.

''Yeah, but still, I didn't want to admit to myself that I did know and understand the reason why you have left,'' Sam replied. ''After all, everyone was saying that you should go back to Hell, and taking Connor down with you would be a bonus.''

''First and foremost, staying in that fire was my own decision… although I admit that hearing everyone else telling me to leave didn't help. I had just figured that I should finally put the past behind me, and to do that, I also had to remove myself from the situation given how I was a huge part of the problem. I had figured that it would be better for you not to be anymore involved in the mess I had created, while also making sure you had all the necessary knowledge to keep yourself safe. I had hoped that you would move on eventually, and I believed that you would understand. I wanted for the nightmare that I started to finally end.'' Springtrap fell silent for a moment, snorting in amusement and shaking his head. ''Thinking back to it, it was incredibly pointless. Why would I even try to do something selfless? I didn't mind killing Connor a second time, but going down with him was just stupid of me.'' He turned to Sam. ''So, after spending more time being driven crazy by the literal ghosts of my pasts, I decided that I should just come back, as I'd always do.''

Sam was silent, staring at him for a moment, then sighed. ''Okay, I will admit, even though I was angry at you when I saw you again, I also felt relieved; and it made me angry that I felt relieved because it felt like that was the wrong emotion. I know what you had done, and you being in Hell would be the best resolution, but at the same time, I wanted to be selfish and feel happy that the person who was basically my best friend and father figure has returned.''

Springtrap's eyes widened, a bit surprised and pleased to hear that Sam still genuinely cared about him, even still seeing him as a father figure, and he felt quite proud of that.

''I think that is okay to be selfish, especially if you're not hurting everyone,'' he told her, with Sam snorting in response.

''It's ironic that you're the one to talk about that,'' she said. Springtrap smirked.

''Perhaps, I should just stick to what I'm doing best,'' he said.

''Murdering children?'' Sam responded in a deadpan stone. Springtrap's ears lowered and he gave her an exasperated look.

''I didn't mean that… I thought about helping you deal with the current situation,'' he replied. ''After all, Glitchtrap is something I'm responsible for, and I'm not letting another murderous bunny steal my spotlight, even if it is part of me.''

''So, you are going to stay here for good?'' Sam asked.

''I'm staying here as long as I want… or until Emma gets that flamethrower she constantly threatened me with,'' Springtrap replied, shrugging. ''Rest assured, I have been thinking, and I realized that as long as the Freddy Fazbear's Franchise is around, I'm not leaving either. Especially not in a time like this.''

''You mean, the Mega Pizzaplex that is being currently worked on?'' Sam asked. Springtrap nodded, folding his arms across his chest.

''I want to see what Fazbear Entertainment has come up with this time. From what I've seen, they are trying to move on from the past while making fun of it, but I'm certain that something bad is going to happen because this franchise has always something bad going on,'' he explained.

''Sounds to me like this is going to be just like the old days,'' Sam said, smiling. Springtrap was quite happy to see her like this. He could see her eyes sparking up with excitement and intrigue.

''Well, it wouldn't be exactly like the old days, but I can assure you that I'm not going anywhere. It doesn't matter if any of the other ghosts return to drag me back to Hell, I'm not leaving,'' he told her in a firm tone. He was startled when Sam suddenly hugged him. Surprised, but happy, he hugged her back in assurance. ''I hope you feel better now.''

''Yeah, I do,'' Sam replied, leaning back as she broke off the hug and gave Springtrap a serious look. ''Speaking of which, has anyone contacted you yet?''

''No,'' Springtrap replied, shaking his head. ''At this point, I believe that everyone has given up on me.''

''Perhaps, that's for the best,'' Sam responded, humming in thought. ''So, the Pizzaplex… Anthelm had told me how I'd get training in order to learn how to handle the new animatronics, and honestly, I'm looking forward to it.''

''Do you plan on continuing learning more about robotics?'' Springtrap asked. Sam placed a finger on her chin, looking up in thought.

''I never really thought about that,'' she replied. ''I'll think about it, though. For now, we'll have to meet up with the Showtime Animatronics and go over an actual plan for the future.''

''So, you plan to involve the Showtimes into this as well?'' Springtrap asked curiously.

''Considering how they're under Glitchtrap's influence, they are already involved,'' Sam responded. ''So, the most I can do is to give them the complete rundown on the situation. Afterwards, we can work on what to do once the Pizzaplex opens, as well as how to deal with Vanessa and, more importantly, Glitchtrap. Not to mention all the stuff Fazbear Entertainment might try to cover, because even if you're not around to cause trouble, something will definitely happen at Freddy's. It's like a curse at this point.''

''I completely agree with that,'' Springtrap responded.

''Have you already figured what your role is going to be while you're at Freddy's?'' Sam suddenly asked.

''Not really, although I'm certain that none of the Showtimes would be happy even if I do,'' Springtrap responded in a snarky tone.

''Well, I think you can talk to them about it. I might not be working today, but I want to go back to Freddy's tonight,'' Sam replied.

xXx

Vanessa stared at the computer screen, at the message she had sent over a week ago. It was addressed to the daughter of a man who worked on the Five Nights at Freddy's: Help Wanted, allowing his daughter to have and early VR experience than others, one that would literally send her into a neverending rabbit hole of mystery, horror and murder. But, why had she done that? She just made the decision out of blue the moment she heard the name of the person she was supposed to send it to. Her memories of that were quite blurry, parts of it even missing. At nights, she had been suffering from nightmares, holding nothing but a lamp and running through some kind of castle while being hunted by monsters. But still, something told her to continue, despite her reluctance. She became more irritable and paranoid, always feeling as if something was lurking over her shoulder, guiding her, sometimes by force. She scrolled up the recent e-mails from one of her co-workers.

"no subject"

To: nessie97

From: luis.cabrera

Ness,

I guess you're not coming in today, which is too bad - not just because you brighten up the office (which you do) but because I really need to talk to you.

I didn't want to put this in writing, but over the weekend, did you happen to create an IT department email address for yourself and use company credentials to reach out to a subcontractor and access their system?

I know that sounds crazy - I mean, why would you even do that? It's just that it really looks like you did that. I'm sure it's a misunderstanding or a glitch or something. Just get back to me as soon as you can, OK?

-Luis

"no subject"

To: nessie97

From: luis.cabrera

Hey, Ness,

I haven't heard from you. I guess you probably know that. Does _pizzaplex mean anything to you? Whoever created those false credentials also used them to override security protocols and allow a data packet through after it was flagged as a virus.

I know it wasn't you. I just need to hear you say it. Or write it, whatever. Please just get in touch with me.

-Luis

"no subject"

To: nessie97

From: luis.cabrera

Ness,

Please just let me know you're OK. There is a package here for you from a fabric company. Are you making a costume? :-)

Yours,

Luis

Reading those e-mails, she felt quite irritated. Luis was quite annoying, and she was glad that the e-mails had stopped, even though she didn't know why. However, he had proven to be quite useful, especially since she needed a bit… help, due to working several jobs at this point. She had managed to transfer from her position as a video game beta-tester to that of the security guard at the new Pizzaplex. Of course, that hadn't been the only thing she was busy with.

Vanessa looked up at the closet behind her, staring at the white costume with stitching all over it, and a blue bow on the neck. A white bunny mask was hanging next to it.

Vanessa narrowed her eyes, shaking her head as her vision turned blurry, with a purple haze falling over like a curtain. She then turned back to her computer, continuing her work.

Links:

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#Five Nights at Freddy's: The Untold Story (Masterlist)

[henrysfedora]

i know everyone's probably noticed this already but i can't help myself. it makes me insane noticing the similarities between the m1 trio and the m2 trio.

like the way tommy has this innocent look to him, the way he moves, the way he's so expressive with his eyebrows and barely talks cause he's an awkward little guy. he keeps to his expressions because sometimes it's just impossible to find the right words. kinda like vito y'know, who kinda just stands there unsure what to say but he's got this goofy smug expression on his face. they both wanted security, and the safety of their family. they both risked it all to talk to someone who wasn't on their side but they ultimately trusted either way. they're the youngest, their hearts are the strongest, their fear is the strongest.

tommy couldn't kill billy, vito couldn't let leo die.

paulie's lived his life cracking jokes, but ensuring himself and others that when the time comes, he's always gonna come out on top. a lot like joe who has also had to rely on his confidence to make it out alive. they know their passion will only be understood by a specific group of people, therefore they're the ones they will fight for til the very end. to their friends they're the sun, they're bigger than life, they're a beautiful loving person who's never going to let them go. and so the whole world seems to dim when either of these guys stop being so happy, because it's their confidence that gets rid of whatever makes their friends scared, so they can't ever show any signs of fear. they can never fear death.

paulie couldn't pull the trigger on himself, joe couldn't pull the trigger on vito.

sam has to wake up everyday knowing death is looming over him, and is channelling through him to remind him of his possible fate. his world isn't about gentle touches or empathy, it's about earning respect. and a favour done for him is a favour he has to repay. all he does is consider and say what if? but knows he'll never make them a reality because it will burn him. he's a lot like henry, who also can't bear the thought of being so open towards his friends, because all this worrying over death has made them forget what life's all about. they are death like those who have led them, what could they ever possibly offer the two people they love the most that's brighter than the sun, or more heartfelt than an angel.

sam couldn't give up the chance to finally have a choice for once, henry couldn't give up the chance to repay all he's ever thought he owed.

tommy and vito both hide under the sun from death

paulie and joe try and stay as bright as they can because they can't bear the sight of their best friend being hurt

sam and henry stand and stare because the light keeps burning them, and they don't fully understand why

[casiferror]

I don't know, but personally I love this scene, because Lucifer could simply play with his mind, manipulate him into trusting him without much effort, but no. Lucifer saw how scared Dean was, he even understood how difficult the situation was to be in his presence once again, now with the face of Sam, his brother and didn't want to make the situation worse by touching him, even though he really wanted to because he found him intriguingly interesting and then respected his personal space, something that many other supernatural beings would never even consider doing. Also Lucifer in that same scene said that he liked Dean, and understood what other angels saw in him, and he demonstrated it with these small actions, which are worth more than any words he could say.

And that being said, I just love how respectful and kind Lucifer can be when he really cares about someone, even someone he hasn't even met yet, but would like to.

[sinfulsoup]

The Adventures of Sam and Harry

Authors note: This is just a little something I've been working on for a while. This is part of a later chapter. Any interaction is appreciated. Thank you for reading.

“I need to use your computer.” Harry’s words came out in a rush as she pushed past Sam into the motel room. “Moe’s missing. This it?” she asked, seeing the open laptop on the small kitchen table. Without waiting for an answer she opened up a new tab and started typing.

“What do you mean Moe’s missing?” Sam asked, still standing in the open doorway as he took in her dirt stained navy blue skirt and blazer.

“What’d you do, forget how English works? Exactly as it sounds. She was taken. I’m trying to find her,” Harry responded, keeping her eyes on the screen. 

“Do you know who took her?” 

“No clue, but whoever it was sent me sailing thirty miles in the other direction. Don’t s’pose you’ve got a spare gun that I could use?”

Sam spoke as he retrieved a gun from a bag on one of the beds. “So how’d you get here?” he asked, passing her the gun.

“Hitchhiked,” she replied, checking the gun over. “Thanks,” she said, lifting the weapon in the air. “I’ll make sure you get it back.” She made to leave only to turn back at the door. “Don’t s’pose you’ve got something I could use to steal a car with?”

Rolling his eyes Sam grabbed his jacket from a nearby chair. “I’ll take you,” he stated firmly. Seeing her hesitate, he added, “I know you don’t trust me, but please, I just wanna help.”

Harry opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again as she realised the futility of it, giving Sam a hard nod instead. “This changes nothing, okay? I will end you if you even think about trying anything. With either of us.”

“I got it. Let’s go,” Sam said, quickly scribbling a note for Dean and following her out the door. 

“Should’ve let me drive,” Harry said from the front passenger seat as they drove. “You drive like a grandma.” 

Sam clenched his jaw as he pushed down on the accelerator. He knew she was baiting him, and as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to make some smart-aleck retort. She was worried about her friend, and he could respect that. Hell, he’d done worse than make snide comments when Dean had been missing, so a few snarky remarks were nothing.

Then why does it bother you so much? The voice sounded in Sam’s head. Because it’s her, he answered himself, glancing in her direction. Because it’s her and I don’t want her to hate me. I know I should be able to put up with a few narky comments after what I did to her, but it still hurts when she says that stuff. 

“Look!” Harry's hand hovered in front of his face, breaking his train of thought. “Over there. That’s gotta be it.” He followed her finger over to what appeared to be an old, seemingly abandoned, warehouse. He turned down the weed filled road, parking a short way back from the main building. 

“You got a plan?” he asked after getting out of the car and pulling his own weapon while Harry surveyed the surroundings. 

“Yeah,” she said, flicking the safety off. “Get Moe out and don’t get dead. Uh uh,” she added as Sam went to follow her. “You stay here.”

“What? Why?” Sam asked, clearly confused by the turn of events.

“I’m not stupid, Sam. We both know that I can’t take you, which makes this an ideal time for you to try something.”

“No.” Harry looked at him suspiciously. “I’m not gonna try anything. I just want to help. Please,” he pleaded. “Just let me help.”

Harry sighed, shaking her head. “Okay. But be warned, I will shoot you.”

“Understood,” Sam replied. 

Together, moving as quietly as possible, the two of them crept up to the building, finding the old weather worn wooden door pushed open. “If that’s not an invitation I don’t know what is,” Harry whispered more to herself than to Sam. “Here goes nothin’.”

Graffiti covered the walls. Dried leaves and dirt mixed with empty cans and bottles that littered the floor along with other assorted paraphernalia. From somewhere down the hall they heard what could’ve been a sob. Harry cut her eyes to Sam, and he nodded, indicating he’d heard it too. 

They were about halfway down the hall when Sam almost ran into Harry who’d stopped and was pointing through a half opened door. In the room beyond, Moe sat slumped forward on a chair, her hands bound behind her. Shallow cuts marked her face, upper chest and arms. A person with long black hair stood over Moe holding a knife, running the tip of it over Moe’s already bleeding cheek. 

Harry fired, getting the knife wielder in the shoulder. The figure turned and hissed, clutching at the injury and giving Harry a brief glimpse of a familiar face. Snapping fingers, the figure disappeared. 

Harry ran in and dropped to her knees in front of her friend. “Moe,” she said, taking her friend's face in her hands. “Are you okay? Dumb question,” Harry answered herself. “C’mon Moe, say something. Anything! Just tell me you’re still with us!” Harry almost yelled while Sam freed her wrists. 

Slowly Moe opened her eyes, taking a second to focus on Harry. “Chloe,” she said as her eyes closed and she slumped forward. 

“Chloe? Moe, what’s Chloe got to do with this? Moe?” And then with perfect clarity Harry understood exactly how Chloe fit. Harry shook her friend, but got no further response. “We gotta get her outta here,” she aimed at Sam. 

“You’re too late.” 

Harry turned to see the black haired figure had returned, now on the opposite side of the room. “Sabine?” 

“The one and only,” Sabine smirked. “And just who is tall and handsome here with you, hmm?” Sabine purred, eying Sam over. 

“No one for you to sink your claws into,” Harry snapped back angrily as jealousy suddenly reared its ugly head. Assessing her limited options, and knowing that Moe wasn’t in a good way, she aimed at Sam while keeping her gun trained on Sabine, “Get her out of here,” nodding at Moe. There was no way she was going to let her friend get hurt any more than she already was. 

Sam didn’t waste any time lifting the oblivious Moe into his arms. Harry watched him carry her to the door before he turned back. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” Harry replied. “Just go, get her somewhere safe. I’ll meet you later.” Sam nodded once and left the room, running with Moe in his arms out to the car. He slid her into the passenger seat then rounded the vehicle, pausing briefly as he considered going back for Harry. Deciding to honour Harry’s wishes instead, he slid in behind the wheel and took off, hoping that he could get Moe to help before it was too late.

An hour and a half later, and just as Sam had finished reading every poster in the waiting room for the seventh time, a commotion out in the hall caught his attention. “I don’t want treatment, I want to see my friend! Why can’t I see her?” Harry, looking the worse for wear, was demanding as he went to see what was happening. 

“As I've already told you, Miss Douglas, we’re still running tests. We’ll let you know as soon as she’s able to receive visitors,” the nurse stated. “But in the meantime, why don’t we take a look at those cuts.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Harry reiterated, “I’m fine. I just want to see her.”

Seeing Harry wasn’t going to back down, Sam decided to step in. “It’s okay,” he aimed at the nurse. “C’mon Har, I’ll buy you a coffee,” he said, going to lay a hand on her shoulder.

“Touch me,” she hissed, feeling his hand hovering over her shoulder. “And I’ll break your nose.” But she still followed him down the hall to the waiting room. “Do you know anything?”

Sam looked down at her and sighed. “Fourth door down on the right.” She was gone before he’d even sat down. Picking up a magazine, Sam tried to read, but found he couldn’t focus. He’d just ditched the magazine when he saw a nurse heading down the corridor that housed Moe’s room. Thinking quickly, he followed the nurse. “Um, excuse me,” he said loudly just as the nurse was about to open the door.

“Yes,” the nurse said, turning to face Sam. “Can I help you, sir?”

“Yes, yes you can. You see, I’ve had a few too many coffees and I can’t seem to find the men’s room,” Sam replied awkwardly, hoping that Harry had heard. 

“No problem,” the nurse smiled. “Take the first right and it's just down the hall. You can’t miss it.” 

Sam smiled back at the nurse. “Thank you so much. You do a wonderful job,” he added, trying to stall the nurse to give Harry more time. 

The nurse blushed at the praise. “Thank you, but if you’ll excuse me, I have to check on my patient,” she said, opening the door.

“Sure, I, I just thought you should know that,” Sam said, stumbling over his words. “You know, about what a great job you do looking after people.”

“Don’t you have to use the bathroom?” the nurse asked, standing half in half out of the doorway. 

“Yes!” Sam pointed his index fingers at her. “Yes I do. I’ll go and do that now and then I’ll go back to the waiting room.” 

“Good idea, sir. You do that.” The nurse shook her head in disbelief as she entered Moe’s room, closing the door firmly in Sam’s face as he tried to peek in. 

Deciding he had a few minutes to kill, Sam followed the nurses instructions, finding the men’s room with relative ease and made use of the facilities, detouring past the nurses station on his way back to the waiting room, finding Harry seated there, a huge grin on her face. “Oh. My. God,” she said. “Could you have been any more awkward?” Then lowering her voice, she mocked, “Er, um, could you tell me how to get to the bathroom ‘cause I’m a big dopey lumberjack that can’t find my way to a good pick up line.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Sam nodded as he studied her. “You done?”

“For now.”

Thinking about asking her if she was jealous, Sam instead asked, “What did you find?”

Harry sighed. “A fat lot of nothing. All the usual tests have come back either negative or inconclusive. And before you ask, tox screen is clear.”

“So what are you thinking?”

Biting her bottom lip, Harry looked up at him. “I think she’s catatonic. I think that whatever Sabine said to her about Chloe might've tipped her over the edge. If I could get inside her head, I might be able to bring her out of it.”

“Then let's do something about it.”

“Sam, no,” Harry protested.

“Why? Because it isn’t my fight? Or is it because it’s me?” Sam saw her flinch at his words. “You were the one who came knocking on my door, remember.”

“Only to use your computer,” Harry shot back angrily, standing. She didn’t know why his comment had set her off, but now that she’d started, she couldn’t stop herself. “It’s not like I asked for you to stick around. You did that on your own. You could’ve just stayed in your crappy motel room and left me to clean up my mess. But nooo, you had to go and follow me around like the lost little puppy dog that you are. Because you, for whatever reason, think that because I’m shorter than the average person, not to mention a girl to boot, that I must automatically need protecting from the big bad world. Well, news flash Sam, I was looking after myself long before I ever met you and I’ll be doing it again long after you’re gone.” Finally finished with her tirade, Harry looked down at the floor, suddenly overcome with guilt. 

“You done?” Sam asked again. Still with her eyes on the floor, she nodded. Getting out his phone, Sam said, “Do you have something of hers? A strand of hair? Anything like that?”

Harry shook her head. “Not on me, no. Why?”

“We have some African Dream Root.” Sam swiped at his phone as he spoke. “Go get a strand of her hair while I call Dean.” Harry left, returning just as Sam hung up. She held up the three strands she’d taken from Moe’s head. “Dean should be here shortly.” 

Almost ten minutes later Dean walked in holding a plastic cup. “About time,” Harry huffed, rolling her eyes. “What? No coffee for the rest of us?”

“And hello to you too,” Dean retorted. “And this,” he held up the cup. “Is for you.” He gave her the cup. 

“That the Dream Root?” Harry asked, peering at the tan liquid.

“Yeah. Melissa took it when you got jumped by Djinns at the Governors Ball,” Dean said.

“She told me,” Harry said, adding Moe’s hair and stirring it with her finger. She raised the cup in salute. “Bottoms up!” She drank. “Ugh! That’s disgust -“ The empty cup bounced on the floor as Dean caught her.

“Really,” he grunted, moving Harry to a seat. “Gotta start telling them to sit down before they drink.”

Opening her eyes, Harry found herself standing outside in a cemetery. Grey clouds covered the sky, setting the mood for the sombre funeral that was taking place. Harry looked over at the crowd, seeing a lot of familiar faces, Moe’s and her own included.

“Doesn't seem right somehow.” Moe’s voice beside her made Harry jump. 

Harry shook her head. “No, it doesn’t.” She paused, watching as the coffin was lowered into the ground. “Why here?” Moe looked at her. “What’s the significance?”

Moe turned back to the funeral and shrugged. “Why not?”

“C’mon Moe, this isn’t like you.”

“You really wanna know?” 

Harry nodded. “Of course.”

“This,” she gestured at the funeral. “Is the beginning of the end. This is the moment I knew that there was nothing left for me, the moment I knew the rug had been pulled.”

“You know that’s not true.” Harry gripped her friend’s shoulders. “There is plenty left for you. You, you’re just letting your grief talk for you. I get that trying to deal with this seems overwhelming, but sweetie, you’re the strongest person I know.” She watched a tear trickle down Moe’s cheek. “I know you’re hurting, but honey, there are still people that need you back out in the real world.”

Moe snivelled. “You don’t count.”

Harry smiled. “I wasn’t talking about me specifically, but I still need someone to kick my ass every so often. Besides, we both know that you’re the smarter of the two of us.”

Moe choked out a watery laugh as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Got that right.”

“So, you’ll come back with me?”

Still wiping tears, Moe nodded. “Only if I get to kick your ass.”

“Any time you want. Unless it’s already getting kicked. That would be awkward. You ready?” Moe nodded again. “Okay, and three, two, one, wake up!”

Harry gasped as she sat up with a start, nearly falling off the chair. “Easy there,” Dean said, his hands out ready to catch her. “You okay?”

“Fine,” she said, getting to her feet. “I have to.” She pointed down the hall.

“We’ll be here,” Sam called as she ran down the hall.

Bursting into the room, Harry saw Moe sitting up in bed, her face wet with tears. “Oh honey,” she cooed, pulling Moe in for a hug. “It’s okay.” Harry held Moe tight as she stroked her dark hair. “It’s okay. We’ll find a way, okay? We’ll find a way and you’ll be just fine.” 

Harry held her until her sobs subsided. “Har?”

“Mm?”

“Can we get outta here?”

“Absolutely!” Harry smiled at her, then got her clothes from the bedside cupboard. “I’ll go sort out the paperwork while you get dressed.”

Harry was at the door when she heard, “Har?” She turned back. “I, uh,” Moe made a gesture with her hand.

“I love you too.” She grinned. “Now get dressed. I won’t be far away.”

The nurse tsked, handing Moe a form. “You know you’re leaving against medical advice.”

“I know, and I’m perfectly okay with it,” Moe replied, signing the form the nurse had given her. “There you go.” She handed the form back. 

The nurse looked it over. “Okay.”

“Are you sure about this?” Harry whispered as she and Moe walked down the corridor towards the entrance.

“Absolutely,” Moe stated. “Just because I work in a hospital doesn’t mean I want to stay in one.” 

Exiting the hospital, they saw the brothers standing next to a familiar car. “Sam. Playboy. Didn’t expect to see you guys here,” Moe said.

“Sammy told me that you weren’t in a good way. I wanted to see if I could help,” Dean offered. ��Besides, I kinda like the Playboy mantle.” He grinned. 

Moe blushed. “Thanks, I think.” Turning to Harry, she mouthed, “We’ll talk later.”

“So what do you ladies have planned?” Dean asked.

Moe and Harry exchanged a glance. “We’re gonna go find a bar and drown our sorrows. But before that, I need to talk to your brother,” Moe said, grabbing a petrified Sam by the arm and dragging him out of earshot.

“I didn’t touch her, I swear,” Sam started, his hands up in surrender.

“I know you didn't. If you had, you’d be lying in a hospital bed.”

“Then what?” Sam sighed, expecting to cop an earful about something.

Moe looked at the ground, then up at Sam. “I, uh, I wanted to thank you. For today.” Sam looked at her with surprise. He hadn’t been expecting this. Moe sighed. “You already know that you’re not my favourite person, not after what you did. But today? Helping her? And me? You didn’t have to do that. So, thank you.”

Sam gave her an awkward smile. “It’s no big deal.”

“It might not be to you, but it means something to me, and if it means something to me, it's gonna mean even more to her. You see where I'm going with this?”

“I think so.”

“Good. Now, about Chloe-”

Sam put his hands up, stopping her before she could say more. “You don't have to explain. I know that she's someone important to you, and that's all I need to know.”

“Okay.” Moe nodded, fighting back the tears that were burning the backs of her eyes. “You want my advice? Give her time, Sam. Just...give her time.” She squeezed his arm lightly then headed back to where Harry and Dean stood. 

Harry raised a questioning eyebrow at Moe as Moe approached. “You okay?”

Moe flung her arm over Harry’s shoulders. “Nope, not by a long shot. Which is why we are going to the nearest bar.”

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. “Are you sure? I mean, after everything that’s happened today,” Harry trailed off. 

“Oh sweetie,” Moe sighed. “You and I both know that there ain’t enough alcohol in the world to cure my pain, but a girl’s gotta start somewhere.”

“Woman after my own heart.” Dean grinned.

“Pfft. You wish, Playboy,” Moe retorted, waving a hand at Dean. 

“Oh, before I forget,” Harry started, reaching behind her and pulling the gun from her waistband. “This is yours. I’ll get you a box of ammo to replace what I’ve used,” she added, handing it over, watching as Sam’s long fingers curled around the grip and wondering, briefly, if she would feel that jolt of electricity that she had with him so many times before, then shook her head at the thought. 

Sam watched her watch him as he took the weapon, feeling as though something had changed between them. Trust, he realised. Today had been a test and he had passed. She was finally starting to trust him. The thought made him happy. 

“We should go,” Harry said to Moe. They’d only taken a few steps when Harry turned back. “Hey, Sam? Thank you. For today.”

Sam smiled at her. “Any time.”

“Think you and Harry will ever work things out?” Dean asked as he and Sam watched the women walk away. 

“I hope so,” Sam replied, praying he was right. 

“Hey, what did Melissa say to you?” 

Sam gave a half shrug. “Thank you.”

“No, really. What did she say?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “She said thank you.”

Dean eyed his brother sceptically. “Okay, if you say so. C’mon,” he said, opening the car door. “I think this calls for a celebration, so let’s go find a bar of our own.”

[hearts-hunger]

*cracks knuckles* LET'S GET INTO THIS ONE BABEYYY

He understood that to you, giving your body to another person was an act of devotion and of love, and that when you are ready, it would matter. It would be special. yeah :((( <333

“Yes.” He grasped your hand tighter and you could see his cheeks reddening as if he were a little kid, innocently asking a pretty girl to be his girlfriend at recess. PRECIOUS BABY HE IS SO CUTE :(((

HIM ASKING YOU TO DANCE IN THE PARKING LOT??? i could cry

“I just got done at the piano store. What’s wrong?” the way he immediately knows something wrong oh my god :((((((

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby. Completely up to you.”  it's literally so sexy when a man gives you options and respects your boundaries help

ohhh i already have a bad feeling about us going inside i hope nothing bad happens :(

“Trust me enough to do something risky?” He asked, his eyes brightening with mischief. yes??? playful teasing sam is so cute

“And who’s that? The pigeons?” HA

NOOOO HIM SETTING UP A CUTE LIL DATE FOR YOU WAHHHH

listen if sam breaks my heart or something i'm not going to survive

SUNDAY DINNER WITH THE KISZKAS HELL YES!!!!

Karma Sutra | Sam Kiszka X Reader | Part 4

Warnings: conversations about virginity, fluff, bestfriend (Paige) angst, Sam singing/ slow-dancing, Sam being disgustingly thoughtful and loving.

Word Count: 4.4K

A/N: I love the feelings that this chapter gives me...the warm fuzzies, for sure, though there is some forshadowing of things to come.

Summary: Sam. Sam. Sammy. The name resonates through your body like homecoming, a name that leaves your heart beating out of rhythm...you hope this lasts forever.

For weeks, you and Sam played the same dance, traveling between your apartments to test each other’s boundaries. He was extremely patient–a quality of his that you never expected, but one that made you feel comfortable and cared for. “When you’re ready, I will be here. I won’t ask for anything more than what you’re comfortable with,” he had said to you a few weeks ago after a particularly intimate evening together. At that moment, it really wasn’t even about sex. He knew that you were still a virgin. You were hesitant to talk about it at first, impressing the stigma that had haunted you your entire adolescence. You’re inexperienced, childish, uncool, undesirable. All because you hadn’t had sex yet. He understood that to you, giving your body to another person was an act of devotion and of love, and that when you are ready, it would matter. It would be special. 

In past years, you had found yourself in several situations where you felt like you had connected with someone, only for them to pressure you into sexual favors. You’d always shut down after that. The stigma encircling virginity had always nauseated you. You were no less of a woman for not having had sex with someone; you weren’t prepared to be that vulnerable with casual flings or even boyfriends that you didn’t love. Over the past month, you were beginning to feel the walls that you had put up beginning to crumble.

“So I was thinking,” Sam said as he drove to dinner, stealing glances over at you. “The winter formal is coming,” He paused, seemingly fraught with nerves. “I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel butterflies take over your body. You couldn’t help but grin at him, your face most likely looking ridiculous. “What?” he said through a chuckle, looking at you. You shook your head, reaching for his hand. 

“You–Samuel Francis Kiskza,” You said, entertained by the question, “Voluntarily attending a college dance? With one girl…one…” You poked up one finger in the air, poking fun at his previous lack of monogamy. He eyed you softly before focusing back on the road, remaining silent. He’s serious. 

“Sam, I was just kidding. I’d love to go with you,” you answered, reaching for his hand. He glanced at you with a soft smile, taking your hand and squeezing it. 

“I have another question for you,” he continued matter of factly, pulling up to a red light. 

“Uh oh,” you responded, beaming at him with a toothy grin. 

“Come on, I’m being serious,” he said, squeezing your hand. 

“Okay, what is it?” you asked, realizing that he wasn’t as playful as you thought he would be. His expression was pulled forward as if deep in thought. 

“Well, we’ve been spending more and more time together, and I just…I have more than just casual feelings for you,” He paused, searching for the next words. “I just, I wanted to know if you wanted to be like…,” he paused again, leaving the car silent as he drove forward in response to the green light. You decided to take a risk. 

“Be your girlfriend?” You asked, a cringe rolling down your body, preparing for the embarrassment. Except, it didn’t come. You heard Sam audibly sigh as if releasing a ton of pressure from his body. 

“Yes.” He grasped your hand tighter and you could see his cheeks reddening as if he were a little kid, innocently asking a pretty girl to be his girlfriend at recess. 

“I’d love that,” you said, wishing you could kiss him without wrecking the vehicle. “I wish you’d have asked me while we were parked so I could kiss you.” 

He chuckled, turning off into the nearest parking lot, which ended up belonging to the local Bank of America branch. He placed the car in park and instead of leaning over the dash, he got out of the vehicle completely, coming over to your side and opening your door for you. 

“Hold please.” He said with a smirk, reaching for his phone. After tapping a few buttons, you could hear a new song begin to play inside the car. You recognized it. It was one of your favorite songs, “Everything Has Its Place” by Young Mister. He handed out his hand for you to take. “Can I have this dance?”

“Sam, what?” You looked outside of the vehicle, at the cars rushing by and at the people driving through the ATM line. “Right here?”

“Yes. Come here.” He asked simply with a nod, this time reaching for your hand and pulling you up and out of the car. This certainly wasn’t a conventional way to woo a woman, but you would remember this forever. You stood in front of him, leaving the car open, listening to the lilt of the music fill the space around you. He pulled you into him naturally, lacing one hand in yours and the other around your waist. You felt his warm body pressed against yours, an undeniable and overwhelming feeling of happiness blooming through your body. 

 He matched the tempo of the music in a simple two-step rhythm. Your belly bounced with the feeling of wanting to cry, wanting to kiss him, wanting to laugh. He made you feel so special, and it was impromptu moments like these that made you genuinely happy to be with him. 

You listened to the familiar lyrics as you danced with him. 

Everything has its place

It is certain to me now

Wild and arranged

We were built for the same purpose somehow

Every word in the world

Could join hands and sing

And still fall short of ever capturing

As sure as a ring goes with a hand

Stars with the moon

Just like the ocean pairs well with the sand

I go with you.

“I’ve been working on my form,” He said finally, prompting you to lift your head to look up at him. 

“Mm, and how’s that working for you,” you asked, your smile so large it was beginning to ache. 

“I haven’t blown it with her yet, I don’t think,” he responded, bending down closer to you. 

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a great job,” you said, leaning in, waiting for him to close the gap with the warmth of his lips. “You’re perfect.”

***

“I never thought you’d end up with him is all I’m saying,” Paige said, sprawled out at the end of her bed, idly scrolling through her phone. “He’s always been so…slimy. Sexy, I’ll give you that–but slimy. The ultimate fuck boy.” She broke her gaze from her iphone to find your eyes discovering that you were not amused. 

“What?” She said, shrugging and rolling to her side, resting on her elbow. “You’re gonna tell me you didn’t think he was a total fucking douche before you guys got together?” She was annoyingly smacking several sticks of bubblegum and her auburn curls fell into her face, causing her to have to blow at them from out the corner of her mouth. “And let’s be honest. You and him? Not the best match.” 

You rolled your eyes at her keeping the secret of the twinge of hurt writhing deep within your gut when she pointed out the obvious. “He’s notorious, Y/n. Don’t get me wrong, he’s beautiful, maybe even a work of art–but is he the real thing, or just another asshole? Smoke and Mirrors can only work for so long until the jig is up.” 

“Can you stop speaking in metaphors and leave my boyfriend out of this?” She had hit a sensitive spot and you couldn't help but throw up a new boundary, even to your best friend. 

“Boyfriend? Since when did that happen?” She pressed, her eyes widening. “Sam doesn’t do that thing,” she said, shaking her head back and forth. “I’ve never pinned him as the person to settle.” Paige was beginning to seriously piss you off. 

“Settle? You think he’s settling with me?” You asked, suddenly pissed off. 

“No, no, no!” She said, springing forward with her hands up in front of her in a defensive display. “That’s not what I meant. I just think he’s scared of domesticity.”

You lowered your hackles and adjusted in bed. “He’s been my boyfriend since he asked me. And it was very sweet.” You paused before asking sarcastically, “And since when did you know everything about him?” You wanted to keep yours and Sam’s dance to yourself. You usually told Paige everything, but at this point, you felt that there were newfound boundaries for the things that you could reveal to her. She had a problem with Sam and it bothered you that she continued to shit on him. The Sam you knew was very different from the Sam she claimed she did. From there on out, you decided that you would keep the special things in your relationship to yourself. Paige wouldn’t share the same excitement for you as you would ever hope for. You felt that any information given to her in good confidence would be scrutinized as if it were all an act or some kind of joke. 

“I’m sure he recycles those words for everyone.” She said, which was the final straw. “I don’t trust him, and I don’t like him.”

“You know what? Since you know everything, read the obvious,” you said, getting up out of the bed and throwing your middle finger up, storming out of the apartment.

“What? Y/n, I wasn’t trying to–” Slam. You threw the front door closed, listening to it rattle the walls as you huffed down the sidewalk. 

“Y/n, stop! I’m sorry, I was just–” You cut her off as you stomped to your car. 

“You were just shitting on my boyfriend, someone who I like very much. Why do you care so much?” you spat at your best friend, pissing yourself off at the realization. “Are you fucking jealous?” you asked in disbelief, a sardonic chuckle escaping into the parking lot of the complex. 

“What? Y/n are you on crack?” Paige said, walking to the end of the sidewalk with her arms crossed across her chest. “I have a boyfriend!”

“You know what? Nevermind, forget it. I’m just PMSing. I’m sorry,” You ended the argument before it could start, but you continued to walk away. “I’m tired. I’m just gonna go home.”

“You could just stay here,” she tried.

“No, I just don’t feel good, and you know I like being in my own bed,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. You didn’t have the energy to fight with her, so you decided it was easier to lie and escape. You felt a big helping of sorrow, enough for the both of you, drop to the bottom stomach. It left you with anxiety as you drove away from her apartment and it took you far too long to realize that you were holding your breath. Heaving a sigh, you called the first person you could think of. 

“Hey, what are you up to?” You said in a neutral tone, trying your best to conceal the upset. 

“I just got done at the piano store. What’s wrong?” He asked. Dammit. Cover blown. Was it really that easy to tell?

“Nothing, I just–I miss you.” You admitted, pulling up to a red light. Dusk was approaching, only a few streaks of pink remained in the sky. 

“Well, I’m on Gusset Road. Only five minutes away from my dorm. Wanna come over?” He asked. You had only been to his apartment once, and it was when his roommates were nowhere to be seen. 

“Uh, are the boys going to be there?” you asked him. 

“Probably, but who cares. Don’t worry about them, Y/n. They probably have their own share of problems to worry about–venereal disease? Waking up drunk somewhere…maybe even naked.” he said. You could tell he was grinning on the other side of the phone. 

“Okay.” You said. Sam’s roommates were insufferable. You knew them to be jackasses; any and every interaction you’d ever had with them usually began and ended with a comment on your appearance. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby. Completely up to you.” 

“No Sam, It’s all good. I want to see you. I’ll be there in ten,” you said, deciding to take one for the team. If you were going to be exclusive with him, you shouldn’t feel uncomfortable spending time with him anywhere. You chose to step out of your comfort zone and reroute to meet him at his apartment. 

You got there after him, but luckily he was still parked in his space waiting for you. Of course, he looked effortlessly handsome. You parked in the open space beside him, offering him a smile as you turned your car off and got out. 

“Well, hello lovely,” He said with a sing-songy voice, getting out and closing his car door, pulling you to him. He leaned in and kissed you softly. “How is my sunshine?” He smoothed the hair down on the top of your head before placing a kiss there. 

“I’m alright,” you said, taking his hand, lacing your fingers with his. You knew he didn’t believe you–nothing was really wrong, you just felt weird and insecure in the relationship–like part of you didn’t trust your place with Sam. 

He led you inside, squeezing your hand and swinging your arm as he walked with you. As the front door of the apartment swung open, you saw Christian walking across the room wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He turned to you. “Oh, hey there, beautiful.” He winked at you, sucking his teeth with a grin that left you feeling queasy. You remained quiet as you observed him. “Mother Teresa gone silent? Taken a vow of silence?” 

“I think you should look into taking that vow yourself.” Sam said, tossing his keys on the kitchen island. 

Christian shrugged, grabbing a banana and unpeeling it. “Have fun, you two,” he said, winking as he took almost the entire length of the fruit into his mouth. 

“Looks like you’ve got a lot of experience,” you said, garnering enough courage to pick at him. 

“That was a good one, Y/n,” Christian said, patting you on the back harder than he intended. You couldn’t help but look at him with disgust. “You’ll get some too. Soon, hopefully.” Christian’s eyes met Sam’s with yet another wink. He retreated to his room, slamming the door behind him. 

“Is he always such a prick?” You asked, turning to Sam.

“If you had to ask,” He said, pulling you in by your shoulders, “you already know the answer. He’s a dumbfuck. Don’t listen to him.” He kissed you gently as his thumbs stroked your skin softly. “Trust me enough to do something risky?” He asked, his eyes brightening with mischief.

You narrowed your eyes skeptically. “Should I be worried?” 

“Only if you’re afraid of heights.” He took your hand, grabbed his keys and ushered you out the door without time for you to protest.

“Wait, no!” you yelped as he pulled you down the hall. “Sammy!” 

“Come on! Trust me!” You ran with him down the hall, towards a fire exit. 

“It’s not alarmed,” he said, pushing open the door. You couldn’t help but cringe as you crossed the threshold onto the external fire escape. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you said out loud when you realized how high up you were, feeling the breeze fluttering across your cheek. Granted, Sam’s apartment was on the third floor. It wasn’t a high rise apartment–eight stories, but you still couldn’t help but picture your body going splat on the pavement. 

“Don’t worry, Y/n. I promise you that it’ll be worth it. I come up here all the time.” He pulled you to the inside of the steep stairway, so that you were adjacent to the concrete wall and his right side. You felt safer this way, but nowhere near calm. Surprisingly, it was an uncharacteristically warm evening compared to what you were used to. The breeze still chilled you, but you were wearing one of Sam’s oversized pullovers, so it helped to lessen the cold. You climbed each stair with terrified accuracy, and you held on to Sam so tightly that you were surprised he didn’t cry out. 

“You’re crazy!” You muttered through gritted teeth as you set foot on the final landing, arriving on the roof. He chuckled through his nose as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 

“Watch this.” You looked up at him in time to see him flick a light switch inside a breaker box on the wall beside you. The roof was suddenly illuminated with rope lights in a surprisingly lovely display. It almost looked like a proper terrace–one from a rooftop bar of a luxury apartment. It was apparent that he or someone had wrapped the lights in a way that used what was available; several strings looped around gutter pipes, old, outdated cable antennae and various poles, but the effect was exquisite, splashing warm light upon the concrete floor and the balustrades that wrapped around the roof.

 “What’s this?” you asked, stepping forward. 

“Mmm, It’s a spot that only the coolest know about.” He grinned, looking down at you.

“And who’s that? The pigeons?”

He rolled his eyes and walked with you. There was a short concrete wall built into the middle of the roof. For what reason? You had no idea, but as he walked you around it, you could see what Sam had turned it into. Behind it, there was a makeshift pallet, cushioned with several blankets and pillows butted up against the hard wall. He had taken a sheet and secured it to the wall and the other end pulled over one of the strings of lights to create something like a tent. 

“This may very well catch fire,” you said, grinning up at him.

“Shh,” he said, kneeling down on the blankets. “Join me.” He held his hand out for you to take. The little lean-to pillow fort was beautiful in the dim light. It didn’t take grand gestures to impress you. Your stomach couldn’t help but flutter with feeling. Sam was exactly what you needed.

You watch him fiddle beneath the covers to reveal a small Coleman cooler. “How did you–you had all of this prepared?” You asked, confused as to how and why he would pull this together with such little notice. 

“Well, I wasn’t really in town when you called,” he admitted with blushing cheeks. 

“So you literally ran the pillows, blankets and cooler up here while I was driving here?”

“Some have said I can be romantic at times,” He opened the cooler to reveal a half-drunk bottle of rosé over ice and a carton of strawberries. “I uh–I borrowed the bottle from Olivia next door to me. Didn’t have time to go to the store.” He looked at you, blushing from slight embarrassment. 

“You are such a dork,” you said, pulling your hands up to his cheeks, pulling him to you. You kissed him, letting your upset fall away upon his lips. 

“Sam, thank you. Thank you so much.”

“It’s nothing, really.” He sat with his back against the wall, pulling you to cuddle into him. 

“No, you just don’t understand. No one has done something like this for me.” You make sure to find his eyes, communicating to him that it was the truth and that it mattered to you. “It matters,” you finished, echoing your thoughts out loud to him. 

“Well, you matter to me, Y/n. So much.” 

***

“Tell me,” You asked, laying flat on your back beside Sam, your fingers tangled together, thumbs fidgeting, stroking each other’s hand absently. “What’s it like having a set of twins as your brothers?”

He sat quiet for a moment after releasing a chuckle through his nose. “Do you happen to like the sound of nails on a chalkboard? Mixed with a nursery of crying babies? Or being in the same room as pretentious book nerds at a biweekly book club meeting? One has to outdo the other with their views of altruism and intellectualism… I’d assume it’s quite entertaining from the outside.” He rolled his head to the side and you did the same, meeting his eyes.

“How about being the youngest? What’s that like?” You asked him. You let the questions fall out in genuine curiosity. You hoped Sam didn’t mind. 

“Lonely, if I’m being honest. Growing up, Jake and Josh were inseparable. I mean, they’re twins, how couldn’t they be?” Sam spoke matter-of-factly. “And of course there’s Ronnie. I love her, but we don’t have a super close bond or anything like that.” 

There was silence for a long moment. “Can I ask you another question?” you asked, anxiety building in your gut. 

“Always.” He said simply. 

“Why do you let people pin you as a…” you fumbled for the right word. 

“Douchebag? Jerk? Asshole?” He finished the question for you. You watched him shrug. “Because in many ways, I have been exactly that.” His honesty surprised you. He had no reason to lie, but his openness with admitting his faults intrigued you. 

“I’m trying,” he continued. “I don’t want to be that piece of shit everyone knows me as. Not anymore.” He squeezed your hand. “I have done many things I am not proud of.” He paused. “But I met you. And that’s where I’ll start new. I’m happy to have met you. You make me want to be a better person. For you.”

Paige’s words nicked at the edges of your train of thought. I don’t trust him. I don’t like him. Were you naive to believe Sam? Even after knowing his reputation? He sat there, admitting it as the truth, choosing not to avoid it, either. 

“I’m new to this,” you said, looking into his eyes. “Call me immature, or naive,” you said, shrugging. “But I just need someone who loves me and wants me. Completely. No bullshit.” You felt his thumb rolling circles into the softness of your hand. “I don’t want to be hurt. I trust you.” you nodded, as if reassuring yourself at your own words. “I trust you, Sam.” 

“I’ll do my best to keep it that way,” he answered, bringing your hand up to his lips, kissing it lightly. 

You sat there with him for a long while, staring up at the night sky. It was a shame because clouds kept drifting over the view of the stars, leaving you pleading for just a sliver of their brilliance. You laid snuggled against Sam, relishing in every little moment that the stars would shine through the cloud cover. 

“I’ve told you a lot about me tonight.” He began, and it was true. “Tell me about your childhood. What was little Y/n like?” You swallowed. Yikes. 

“Well, I grew up not too far from here. About three hours south. I’m an only child. My parents wanted more, but it just wasn’t in the cards. I was a miracle baby, come to think of it.” Sam readjusted, turning on his side. “My mom was already thirty six when she had me, and it was after years of trying.” There was a silence between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. 

“My first friends were really my mom and dad–maybe my cousins. It was hard making friends in school. I stuck with two or three good friends throughout much of grade school.” 

You swallowed, feeling emotion tugging at the back of your throat. “My childhood was a good one. My parents worked hard to give me anything and everything I needed…” You paused, feeling sadness swelling in your gut. 

“Hey,” Sam said, moving closer. “Everything okay?” He rubbed your shoulder gently, feeling you begin to retreat. 

“I’m okay,” you said, sniffling back the tears that threatened to fall. “ I didn’t expect to feel so–” you said before pausing. 

“Is it your dad?” He asked softly after a moment. You nodded in response, wiping at your eyes. 

“I’m sorry. In the moment I forgot. I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. You know I don’t talk about it often.” You pulled yourself closer into him, laying your head on his chest. “I avoid dealing with it. I don’t think I’ve ever truly grieved for him.” You felt him stroke your hair as you spoke. 

“I’ll be here, Y/n. I’ve never suffered a loss like that. I don’t know what it must feel like, but I want to be there for you. If you’ll let me.” 

You sniffled, feeling the pain beginning to recede. “You are the best, Sam.” 

“I highly doubt that. I’m highly cynical and self absorbed, but I guess I have my moments.” You could hear the grin in his voice, making you shake your head. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?” you asked, still snuggled into him.

“How would you feel about meeting my family?” 

Your eyebrows rose instantly. You weren’t expecting him to say that. “I mean, I’d love to meet them. Are you sure?” You asked, taken aback by his desire to introduce you to his family. 

“I’m sure, Y/n. I know things are relatively new. But I’ve never been more sure about something like this.” 

Just like that, he had capped the night with the exact thing you needed to hear. That you mattered, and that you were special. He was letting you into his life, beyond the surface, beyond the version of Sam that he offered to everyone. Everyone except you. 

“You okay?” He asked quietly after a minute. You hadn’t realized that he wasn’t privy to the conversation you were having to yourself. 

“I am more than okay,” you answered, unclasping your hand from his, and rolling over to grab his face with your fingertips. He pulled you in without a word, kissing the softness of your lips. “Sunday Dinner?” He asked, hovering above your mouth as the kiss came to an end. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you said before leaning in and kissing him again.

End of Part 4.

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