#and jimmy looks kinda like the blonde dude | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thedo0zyslider · 1 year ago

Text

Show Your Fangs - 2k Words

Fwhip just so happens to be a vampire, a vampire with quite the big problem, even if he doesn't think it's that big of a deal in the end. Fortunately, or unfortunately, help comes from a rather unlikely (and perhaps a slightly unwanted but also not really unwanted) place...

A03 Link

Fwhip starts a day like any good day should start, teasing and terrorizing his (least) favorite fish man.

He has shown up to place TNT at Jimmy’s base many of times, so much so that it’s practically a weekly occurrence at this point. He shows up, he places the explosives, teases the cod about exploding them and anything else that comes to mind, and weasels his way away before he does any serious, war escalating damage.

It’s fun, for him anyways, and when he arrives in the Codlands that day to do all of the very things listed above, it is supposed to go exactly as expected.

That is until he collapses, right in the middle of teasing jimmy. The Count doesn’t pass out, not really, just sort of falls to the ground like his limbs had given up on him randomly as the world turns black for the smallest of seconds. Which they had done, but at least it's not random to him, at least he can guess at the reason why. It is probably entirely random to Jimmy though.

The cod, effortlessly and frustratingly kind, lets out a sound of alarm, and rushes to help the Count back to his feet. Which is how he ends up leaning against Jimmy, which Fwhip hates, for the record, and being led back into his tiny shack of a house. Something so small it barely qualifies for a house, but looks much bigger on the inside. Like way too big.

He is set down on Jimmy’s couch, and hates the way his body sags in relief as he is. Jimmy, who has suddenly become a vigilant mother hen, notices, and a trace of what is absolutely genuine concern flashes in his gaze.

“You okay dude?” Jimmy asks, raising a curious eyebrow at him.

“Yeah I just….have like a deficiency or something.” Fwhip lies, tries to pass it off best he can, and knows whatever he says isn’t going to work.

“Really?” The blonde says, pretty, cow like brown eyes now narrowed. “A deficiency or something? A deficiency in what? ’ It is that that Fwhip cannot come up with a good excuse for, and Jimmy starts demanding to know why the nuisance in front of him almost passed out in the middle of his empire.

Fwhip sighs, and starts this discussion the best he can. “Ya know how I;m kinda a vampire right?” He asks, now being the one to raise a brow at the Codfather.

“Yes..” Jimmy’s reply is uncertain, and he shuffles his weight a bit, like he’d almost forgotten the fact. Though Fwhip could hardly blame him, he himself didn’t even like bringing it up much. Or thinking about it for that matter.

“Well I usually get the blood I need from Sausage’s sheep, since he always has dozens of ‘em. But i er, haven;t had a chance to do that recently…” Fwhip explains, sounding a bit sheepish. Mostly because it was stupid and something he could’ve, and should’ve, taken care of days ago. But even the Grimlands glorious Count has his stupid moments.

“You forgot and now you’re starving, is that what you’re telling me?” Jimmy deadpans, the most unimpressed look the Count has ever seen on anyone plastered across his face.

The Count goes to resume speaking, already trying to worm his way out of this weird little predicament his stupid need to feed had landed him in. Unfortunately, Jimmy does not allow that to get very far. “Yeah, yeah basically.” “I’ll just, go home now, eat when I get there-”

“You could feed off me.”

“ What. ” Fwhip blinks a few times, maybe even pinches himself to make sure he’s not dreaming, and that the idiot in front of him actually just said that.

“I said you could feed off me.” Jimmy repeats, tone flat and serious. Fwhip can barely believe his ears a second time.

“No I can’t, I can’t do that! ” The Count yelps out a protest. It wounds fun, enjoyable even to drink a human’s (well, a humanoid’s ,) blood. It also makes part of him squirm with some deep seeded discomfort he does not want to deal with at the moment.

“Why?” Jimmy asks, and the question is powerful. It is also a question Fwhip does not have an answer to, so he says nothing. And his responding silence is absolutely damning.

“Well, there you go,” Jimmy begins. Unbeknownst to him, blue eyes are already being flicked dangerously downwards towards his very vulnerable throat. “You can just feed on me and get it over with-!”

His sentence is cut off by a loud yelp and Fwhip moving at what seems to be lightning speed. Before either of them even knows what happened he’s stood from the couch, and has crossed the room in a heartbeat. The Count presses Jimmy to the wall, the vampire part of his brain having taken over for a moment. Jimmy’s breath seems to hitch, and Fwhip doesn;t catch it, but a pinkish hue starts to lightly dust his cheeks.

“Are you sure about this?” Fwhip asks, voice low. Jimmy stares back into his eyes, seemingly a little transfixed by the whole ordeal. Warm hands are gripping the cod’s waist, keeping him steadily against the wall. Both of them are breathing quite heavily, breaths mingling together at the proximity. Fwhip’s eyes cannot decide if they want to look at Jimmy’s eyes, his lips, or his very exposed and tempting neck.

"Yeah, yeah I'm sure." The blonde breaths quietly. And Fwhip doesn't waste a second moving his downwards. He lines his teeth up best he can, brushing them across soft skin. Jimmy squirms under him until he bites down, and Fwhip draws back as soon as he does, feeling the other tense before he can even let out any kind of pained noise.

"You didn't take any." Jimmy mumbles quite obviously, Fwhip moving so they can make eye contact again. If their faces had gotten a few inches closer, well that wasn't for anyone but them to know now was it.

"Sorry, I just....don't really wanna hurt you." He mutters, watching as the blonde slowly moves his head back to wher it used to be.

"Don't worry about it," The cod mutters, voice incredibly soft for a fleeting moment. Fwhip, who has been left with his face in front of Jimmy’s throat, but not doing much other than look at it, feel his own breath hitch. There's something fluttering in his stomach, something to investigate later.

“Let’s just get this over with.” Jimmy muttered, eyes flicking down ever so slightly. Even though the cod probably couldn’t tell, Fwip nodded anyway. Slowly and still very hesitantly, he angled his head once more, a bit down as gently as he could. Despite that, Jimmy still lets out a short hiss of pain, and his hands scramble to find purchase on something. The blonde managed to grab onto Fwhip’s shoulder, and dug in maybe a little too hard.

The Count doesn’t notice it much though, already beginning to lap up the blood for the rather shallow incision he’d made. He only backs off when Jimmy makes the smallest sound of pain, doing so instantly.

He pulls back, breath ghosting over the cod’s neck. That didn’t fill him up at all, the rather pitiful amount of blood having hardly made a dent in his hunger. Somehow, the blonde seemed to sense this, maybe by the very obvious way Fwhip still seemed to be laser focused on his neck and the small amounts of drying blood left on it.

“Wasn’t enough, was it?” Jimmy asks him through small pants.

Fwhip just shakes his head in response. “No..”

“Then bite me again.” The cod says. Fwhip, a little less hesitant, nods again. He reaches his head down once more, and sinks his teeth into Jimmy’s ever so delicate skin for technically the third time that night.

The blonde only lets out a small sound of pain that time, and Fwhip hopes he’s getting slightly used to the whole process; in case they ever need to do this again. Though the Count will avoid getting his hopes up for that. He decides to drink his fill this time, wanting to get the whole thing over with for good, which turns out to be a very good decision. Mostly because he gets properly fed, and the blonde below him starts letting out sounds that seem to be the very opposite of pain.

Jimmy lets out a pleased whimper, craning his neck back as Fwhip sucks more and more blood from it. The cod shivers under him everytime the vampire’s tongue runs along his skin, and once Fwhip has had his fill, and maybe slightly before it, he lets himself become carried away, and presses open mouthed kisses to Jimmy’s skin. He learns quickly, after some accidental trial and error, to avoid the codfolk’s gills when taking blood, but to go straight for them once the activity diverts into something else; the noises Jimmy makes when he does so are quite lovely on the ears.

The kisses trail upwards, slowly but surely, until they are being peppering along the Codfather’s jawline. He even goes to lift Jimmy off the ground, the cod’s legs wrapping around his hips for support. One hand tangled in Fwhip’s hair, eliciting a noise from the Count himself, and the other grabbed the back of his head and held it tightly. He moves the kiss further up still, until he is pressing them teasingly to the side of Jimmy’s mouth, and the cod gets impatient and connects their lips himself.

Fwhip hums into it, wasting no time slipping his tongue into the blonde’s mouth. It’s a messy kiss, a very intense one too, not that he minds in the slightest bit. Jimmy bites his lip at one point, the Count bites back and goes on to explore Jimmy’s mouth so more, memorizing the feel of it best he can, for he doubts he’s getting this chance ever again.

They pull away for a quick second, maybe even less than that, panting heavily, before Jimmy’s drawing Fwhip back in to kiss him stupid once more. He groans into this time, pushing the Codfather up against the wall until he physically can’t anymore. Jimmy bites at his lip again, and Fwhip feels himself melt. It’s nice to be bit for once he decides, as the one who’s usually doing all the biting.

The two of them move away one last time, both panting heavier than they had been before. Fwhip moves away, putting Jimmy back on the ground. The cod stumbles as soon as he’s on his feet again, and before long he’s leaning against Fwhip to stay upright. He’d taken too much blood, it seems, which wasn’t good per say.

He hurries over to the couch best he can, the blonde carefully clutched in his arms. He sets Jimmy down, laying his head against the back of the couch, before running to grab some stuff from the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what snacks Jimmy had in his kitchen, but he managed to grab something, along with preparing a glass of water. The Count thinks that’s what helps with blood loss, but he’s not too sure. Still, it’ll probably do more good than harm regardless.

“Here,” He says softly, having returned to the couch. “Take this.” He hands Jimmy the food he’d grabbed, a cookie, apparently, and placed the glass of water on the table. The Codfather did take what he was offered, though it took a second for him to do so.

A few minutes of silence stretched out between them, Fwhip awkwardly standing in his enemies living room all the while. Jimmy sat on the couch, quietly eating and taking a few sips of water in between. He watches as the blonde blinks a few times, ost likely clearing the spots from his vision.

“Thanks.” Jimmy mumbles, doing so around the last mouthful of cookie.

“No problem,” Fwhip responds, hands shoved in his pockets as casually as he can manage to make it appear. “Did that help any?”

“A bit, I probably need to lie down though.” The cod cracks a small smile, and Fwhip cannot tell if it forced or if it is genuine.

“Well, I’ll let you do that then.” He says it with a shrug, like each of them hadn’t just enthusiastically sucked face with a man they hated for a good five minutes, and starts heading towards the door. The thing that stops him, calls him back, the only thing that could, is Jimmy gently calling out his name; like it wasn’t meant to be heard in the first place.

“If you ever need this again, just come to me okay? “M happy to help.” Jimmy says, and maybe his tone is a little hopeful. Maybe he liked the blood sucking that much, which was entirely possible, for Fwhip didn’t know what this guy was into. The more likely option was probably that he wanted another excuse to make out again, and the Count couldn’t even fault him for that.

It was taking a lot of willpower to not kiss Jimmy goodbye, and the knowledge that the cod would welcome it was not helping his impulse control one single bit. It was doing the complete opposite of that, actually.

But Fwhip does not walk over and kiss Jimmy, no, all he does is look at him and gives the best smile he can muster. “Yeah,” He shrugs again, turning back towards the door ever so slightly. “I’ll let you know if I, ah…need this again.” As he says this Fwhip knows how easy it is for vampire to run back towards an easy source of human blood, and decides he’s not going to be like that. He’s not going to be easy, and certainly not for the dumb codboy of all people, even if he really, really wants to and it would solve like, half his personal problems to do so.

“Bye.” Jimmy calls out as Fwhip places his hand on the door knob.

The Count can’t bring himself to respond, not even with a simple goodbye, so he just wipes any stray blood from his lips, and opens the door to leave. He thinks he feels the sad gaze of Jimmy on his back as he leaves, door closing behind him, but even that can’t bring him back thai time. Some people would say he’s running away, and if Fwhip knows whatever that weird feeling he’s running from is, he's not going to acknowledge.

He’s just going to go home to forever wallow over blood and the kisses he will never allow himself to have again.

#ron.fic #jimmy solidarity #empires smp #empiresblr #empireshipping #count fwhip #fwhip #the codfather #empires jimmy #empires fwhip #woe. vampire fwhip be upon ye #me when i finish this at 5 am lololll

33 notes · View notes

ophelia-jones · 2 years ago

Text

Sept 2008

Adalia had been tending bar at the Rendezvous Roadhouse for three months now, located in between two tiny towns in rural Georgia. They were within 60 miles of Athens and yet somehow in the middle of nowhere at the same time. She didn't mind, she had grown up in rural Louisiana so it was familiar, but thankfully far from the history she was hiding from.

On the weekends, the Rendezvous hosted live bands and drew in customers from all over. Karaoke Thursdays we're popular too. But tonight was neither the weekend nor even Thursday, but a quiet Tuesday night with only a handful of customers to take care of. They were a bit rough and ready, but she knew how to handle a few redneck bikers.

"Oh good, I was afraid we wouldn't have any trouble tonight," Jenny groaned.

Jenny was the opening bartender that day and had another hour left in her shift. She would most likely stay until after close; she knew Adalia didn't like leaving the bar alone in the middle of the night. The manager, Jimmy, didn't see the problem and refused to schedule two bartenders on slow nights. Why pay two people when there is barely enough work for one?

The two women were washing glasses and chatting amicably when the door opened and four men walked in.

"You know these guys?" Adalia asked, looking them over carefully. Her eye lingered on one in particular with a flutter low in her belly she hadn't felt in some time.

"Yeah, Steve and Eric work construction, when they can't live off unemployment or false disability claims. The other two are just drifters that pass through now and again - the Dixon brothers. They're the real trouble. Merle, there -" She nodded to the taller of the two brothers, with a smile that sent shivers down Adalia's spine and reptilian eyes. "Keep your distance if you can, he'll grab a handful of whatever he can. Tits, ass, legs, he doesn't care, he just gets off on your reaction more than anything." Jenny said, grabbing the tip jar and hiding it under the bar. "He'll take half the tips or better if you leave them out, too," she added.

"What about him?" Adalia asked about the younger brother, the one with sandy blonde hair that looked freshly cut but wouldn't sit quite right on his head. He reminded her of a little boy with a persistent cowlick. He had the broadest shoulders she'd ever seen on a man and biceps that were beautifully displayed by his sleeveless button-down plaid shirt.

"That's Daryl. He won't give you any trouble, at least not personally; but he is a mean drunk and will both start and end a fight with any man that looks at him the wrong way. The dude's got a chip on his shoulder the size of Mt. Rushmore. If he starts a brawl, it's best to just get outta the way. It's not worth the risk of trying to shut him down." Jenny told her as the men approached the bar and took up half the seats.

"Well, there goes the neighborhood. What can I get you guys tonight?" Jenny greeted the men with her sweetest smile, the one she used on troublesome guests and good tippers. Adalia assumed these were the former, rather than the latter given the words of warning Jenny had given before the men were seated.

"You know you love us, Miss Jenny!" Merle smiled at the bottle blonde in the tank top and daisy dukes. His eyes were everywhere but on her face. "How 'bout we start with a little lap dance and see where it goes from there?" he suggested.

"Not that kinda place Merle Dixon! And you couldn't afford me if it was." Jenny quipped, winking at the man. "What are you drinking?"

"Four beers, four shots of whatever's cheap," Merle told her, setting some cash on the bar. Jenny began pouring the shots of Jim Beam and Adalia set about opening the bottles of Pabst Blue Ribbon. She set the four open bottles down in front of Daryl and paused for a heartbeat when she caught his startling sky-blue eyes. She had not been prepared at all for the delicate beauty of them set in such a man. Everything else about him, from his scruffy goatee to his dirty jeans said tough guy, but those eyes! They were like quicksilver, they reminded her of cool clear glacial lakes and summer skies.

He took one of the beers from her and sized her up silently, though he did not leer as his brother did. He made eye contact again as he took a long drink from his bottle and Adalia couldn't quite tear herself away until Jenny stepped up beside her and began distributing the shots. Adalia passed the other three beers to the rest of the group and moved back to cleaning behind the bar.

"You've got some new blood in here since last time," Merle said to Jenny as his attention fell on Adalia. She did her best to pretend she didn't hear him from the far end of the bar, despite how small it was.

"Mmm-hmm, and we'd like to keep her around so don't scare her away!" Jenny joked with him. Merle and the other two men laughed heartily. Daryl just tossed back his shot as if he hadn't heard a thing.

The men seemed content laughing with Jenny for the next hour or, but her shift was over and she went to the back to collect her purse and keys. Adalia wondered if she would stick around tonight or if the Dixons had scared her off.

Jenny was a stick-thin twenty-something with her hair styled and nails done, displaying everything she had in her booty shorts and tight shirt. She was the opposite in almost every way of Adalia who was 36 years old and starting life all over. She was now a single mom with a fifteen-year-old son and a thirteen-year-old daughter to look after. She had Marilyn Monroe curves and shaggy black hair that didn't quite reach her shoulders. Tonight, she wore a pair of jeans that fit her well and a T-shirt that was a bit too tight in the bust. She was a beautiful woman, but she really had no idea that this was the case. Perhaps it was the years of being told by her ex-husband no one but he would ever want her.

One of the regular customers, a sixty-something man named Bobby who drank alone almost every night, approached Adalia. She didn't notice him approaching until it was too late.

"Hey, you stupid bitch, are you trying to cheat me? There ain't a drop of liquor in this!" he declared, tossing the drink -glass, and all at Adalia's face. She gasped as the glass hit the mirror behind her and the rum and coke shattered all over. She grabbed hold of the heaviest liquor bottle behind the bar and wielded it like a club, but before she had half a chance to lose her temper, her blue-eyed boy was on the troublesome customer.

"You wanna try that shit on someone your own size, hot shot?" Daryl growled, and the older man blanched. He knew he could not hold his own in this fight.

"Stupid bitch has been shorting me on my drinks all night, I just want to get what I paid for," he told him, trying to justify his bad behavior.

"I want to hear you tell that lady you're sorry, and then I'm gonna give you two minutes to get the fuck outta here before I make your face even uglier than it already is!" Daryl threatened. No one in the bar doubted he would keep his promise.

"You heard my brother, ass hole." Merle drawled threateningly, but he didn't even have to stand up to be intimidating.

"I ain't apologizing for her stupidity!" the man said, but he turned and left the bar quickly.

"You hurt?" the blue-eyed stranger asked, turning back to look Adalia over. She smiled at him, trying not to be impressed with such a display of aggression, but there was something primal about this man that she couldn't deny turned her on.

"I'll live, sugar," she said, "Thanks for worrying about me though." She smiled at him as she wiped the liquor from her face and neck. She had a small laceration on her arm but it was nothing a bandaid couldn't handle.

"You drink free tonight," she told him as she admired him openly.

"You don't gotta do that, that guy was a damned ass hole, I woulda loved the chance to teach him a lesson," the man drawled. He was about as unrefined as moonshine but there was a charm in his gruffness.

"What's your name, shug?" Adalia asked, her Louisiana accent contrasting his like sweet and sour. Her eyelids were lowered, her green eyes gazing at him from behind thick black lashes. He shuffled a bit awkwardly under the weight of her admiring gaze.

"Daryl," he told her, chewing a hangnail on his thumb absently.

"Nice to meet you Daryl, I'm Adalia," she offered him her hand to shake. He looked at it for a moment as if he had never shaken a woman's hand in his life, but then took it in his own and gave it a single quick shake. He grunted in acknowledgment.

"What can I do for you? Another round of the same?" she asked after a moment. She seemed to have stunned the man silently.

"Yeah," he replied with a sharp nod. The taller man, the one who had called Daryl his brother, approached her with a smile. He offered her his hand.

"I'm Merle, ma'am, and don't you worry your pretty little head. We won't stand for anyone giving a lady that kind of grief while we're here." he slurred, already slightly drunk.

"I appreciate that," she told him as she moved to open four bottles of beer and pour four shots of whiskey.

"Looks like baby brothers got a fan," Merle slurred as they returned to their seats.

"Shut up," Daryl grumbled.

"No, he's right," their friend told Daryl, glancing back over his shoulder at the dark-haired bartender. "She's creaming her jeans for you, man."

"Fuck off," Daryl said with a frown, knocking back his shot and taking a long pull from his beer.

"You're a lucky man," added the fourth man at their table. "I have been wondering if I could bury my face in those tits all damned night!" This elicited a hearty laugh from the other men, but Daryl's face turned red. With embarrassment or anger, it was hard to say, Daryl was always quiet with his emotions until they were too much to keep in.

"She's your type brother, you can't deny that," Merle continued the conversation with a smirk. "He likes a pair of jugs that could smother him. He'd die happy if it was between a pair of double d's!"

Daryl scowled at his brother, but Merle continued,

"Nothing wrong with big titties but they usually come with an ass the size of Texas. He doesn't seem to mind that, though."

"Yeah, well, you can keep your stick-thin addicts." Daryl retorted, "I like my women with all their teeth." This elicited a round of laughter from the group, Merle included.

"Don't knock it until you tried it, brother. There are fringe benefits to a woman with no teeth." he joked.

Adalia was washing the liquor off her face and fixing her makeup in the bathroom but she could hear the men loud and clear. She tried not to let their words sting, but it was hard. Her ex-husband had made a habit of telling her she was too fat to fuck. She had finally gotten up the strength to take the kids and run away from him and from Louisiana.

She was certainly no waify model, but she had started to find her self-esteem again. Adalia smoothed her alcohol-dampened t-shirt and looked in the mirror. She decided she was proud of her appearance no matter what a bunch of hillbilly bikers might have to say about it. She went back to work, collecting empties from the tables and starting the clean-up process so closing would go quickly.

She couldn't deny the attraction to Daryl and hoped maybe Merle was right and he felt the same. She hadn't felt this sort of attraction in some time now and the way he stirred her reminded her she wasn't as old as she sometimes felt. There was some hope for a little romance left in her life.

She decided to go out on a limb and try her rusty skills of seduction. If nothing else, it was a bit of fun. Flirting was a game, after all; a dance. How much fun it was depended on how your partner responded, of course, but even if she just made him blush that was enough.

"You good, Sugar? Need another?" she asked Daryl as she leaned in front of him to collect Merle's empty bottle and shot glass, making sure he got a good eyeful. When she stepped back, the amusement on the other men's faces was evident.

"Naw, I'm good."

"Ok, well just holler if you want me," she said with a wink before walking to the other end of the bar to dispose of the bottles and wash the shot glasses. The men erupted into a flurry of laughter and teasing behind her and she smiled a bit. She hoped she hadn't embarrassed Daryl.

"Jesus, Daryl, what do you need her to do, get her tits out and slap you in the face with 'em? That gal wants it, and if you don't give it to her, I will!" Merle said, starting to stand up. Daryl stood and stared his brother down.

"Sit the fuck down," he said, squaring his shoulders and glaring at Merle until the man had seated himself again.

"Well?" Merle smirked up at him.

"Did I hear a glass breaking a while ago?" Jenny asked as she emerged from the backroom in a change of clothes with her hair and makeup completely refreshed. Adalia rolled her eyes and nodded, she was still cleaning up shards of glass.

"Bobby being an asshole, nothing new," she told her coworker. Jenny raised her eyebrows and nodded behind Adalia. She turned to see Daryl behind the bar stalking towards her. When he grabbed her wrist and began to lead her toward the corridor where the bathrooms were tucked away, Adalia's heart began to race.

Adalia's body flooded with anticipation, coming to life in ways she hadn't felt in too long.

She looked nervous, but Jenny smirked at her and gestured that she should go. Jenny would man the bar.

Daryl didn't say a word as he dragged her into the single bathroom and kicked the door closed behind himself. He stood chest-to-chest with her much like he had the man when he wanted to fight, but his quicksilver eyes burned with a different sort of heat.

"If I'm out of line, this is your chance to say so," he told her, his chest coming into contact with hers and his hands settling on her hips.

"You're not," she told him, slightly breathless with the sudden intensity of his attention but excited by it. He bent to kiss her, his mouth firm on hers and tongue demanding entry - which she yielded with a deep moan of pleasure. He ran his hands up along her back, pulling her shirt up as he went and yanking it off, tossing it aside. His hands were greedy as he grabbed her breasts, eyes devouring them just as hungrily. He reached around behind her, staring down into her eyes as he fumbled with the clasp.

Daryl cursed under his breath and before Adalia had a chance to release the clasp herself, he had withdrawn a pocket knife and quickly cut through the back strap. He tugged the ruined lingerie off with one hand and grabbed one heavy breast in the other, a low moan of appreciation escaping his lips as his eyes fell on them. He kissed her again, a bruising, breathtaking kiss - both hands kneading, thumbs rubbing over her hard nipples sending electricity sparking straight down between her legs.

She made quick work of the buttons of his shirt, eager to feel his skin against her own. She touched his solid pecs, brushing her fingers over his chest, her pinkie lightly grazing his nipple and making him stand up straight, his breath caught in his throat. She wrapped her arms around his neck so her breasts were pressed tightly against his chest, his chest hair creating a paradoxical sensation of roughness and smoothness at once.

Daryl slid his hands down over her ass as he kissed her once more, and then he grabbed her by the hips and spun her around to face the sink. He bent to kiss her neck while his hands slid down her belly and unfastened her jeans.

His fingers dipped below her waistband, breaching her panties and finding her already wet. He sunk his teeth into the side of her neck and made her cry out and press herself against his hand. He was sucking at her neck and could feel how her body reacted to him as she grew slippery against his fingers.

"You like that?" he asked, his voice low in her ear as he pressed down hard against her clit and the sensation nearly took her legs out from under her.

She only managed to bite her lip and nod in response, so he began rubbing almost too hard in circles and repeated himself.

"You like that?"

Her knees and thighs trembled and she nodded again, managing to utter a desperate breathy 'Yes!'

He pressed himself up against her and she didn't need to ask if he liked anything, his hard-on against her ass told her he was. She arched her back to rub against him, and in the process deepened his finger's contact on her clit, suddenly she felt herself topple over the edge of her first climax. She cried out in surprise and pleasure, and Daryl caught her, one strong arm under her waist to keep her from collapsing as her body shunted all of its focus to the way he had made her cunt tremble.

Gasping and trying to regain her senses, Adalia grasped the sink until her knuckles grew white. When she glanced in the mirror, she saw Daryl's smile for the first time. Just a little crooked smirk, his eyes lowered slightly. Certainly, it couldn't be shyness, not at this point in the game. Maybe he was looking at the heart-shaped tattoo between her shoulder blades.

He knelt and pulled her pants down forcefully and she kicked them to the side, leaning her forearms from hands to elbows on the sink, Daryl grabbed her by the hips and slipped a knee between her legs to nudge them apart she watched him in the mirror as his eyes took in the view. He watched his hand as he put two fingers into her all the way to the knuckles and felt her reflexively squeeze tight against them. He groaned at the feeling, his cock aching to take his fingers' place.

He stroked her, in and out until she was squirming and lifting her hips, spreading her legs further with need. Daryl removed his hand, his eyes locking on hers in the mirror, and licked first his forefinger and then his middle finger. Adalia felt her pussy tighten, surprised at how much the sight turned her on. As Daryl lowered his jeans just far enough to free his cock, he bent over her and breathed in her ear,

"You taste like honey." Adalia shivered as she felt the tip of an impressively thick cock begin to press into her. "Straight from the comb" he continued, pressing, stretching her inch by inch, pausing and pressing firmly deeper with each word."Hot," he pressed in further, "sticky," he moaned and those blue eyes drifted shut. He was nearly buried to the balls and he wanted her to take all of it. "And so damned …SWEET!" he groaned the last word and stood, looking at her in the mirror, completely naked while he wore his open shirt and had only freed the important bits from his jeans. She was so vulnerable and open to him, and he seemed to want every bit of her.

He began to move, very slowly, nearly pulling out completely and then pushing back in just as slowly. He watched where their bodies joined, biting his lip as he did. The long slow strokes were the most torturously sensual thing Adalia had ever experienced. She balanced her weight on her arms, standing on her tiptoes and arranging herself to allow him the deepest possible angle.

Had it always been this good? Had she really forgotten this feeling? The intense pleasure of being stretched to her limits, caressed from the inside, the glide of soft skin and rigid cock. No, she'd never known anything like this. This she could not ever forget.

Daryl grunted and moaned softly, his exhalations growing louder and more desperate as he began to thrust faster against her, deeper, harder; the sound of their skin slapping against each other would have mortified her once, made her so self-conscious she would stand no chance of enjoying the experience.

Somehow, here and now, it only served to make it better. Daryl was so primal, so BEASTIAL there was nothing about her body or what they were doing to be ashamed of. She could just do what felt good.

Daryl's hands on her hips were bruising her but she didn't want him to let go, she lowered her shoulders as far as she could and lifted her hips as high as possible, his firm hold helping her be able to maintain the pose.

Daryl was close now, she could see it in his face, the way his lips parted, and the intensity in his eyes, but especially in the way he moved now, almost frantically. She watched him in the mirror, his eyes admiring the way he made her tits bounce. He moved one hand from her hip and grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her forcefully back toward him.

This, along with the adjustment of how her back arched now and a deep, hard thrust found a spot inside her that she had not even known was there, and she could hear the desperate moans coming from her though she had no control over them at all as she came from muscles deep inside, tightening around him in wave after wave of release that rippled through her whole body.

Daryl muttered a string of obscenities through clenched teeth, his grip on her hair painfully tight now; his head fell back against his shoulders, his eyes toward the ceiling unseeing. One last deep thrust and a loud cry of intense, blinding pleasure as he throbbed and spilled into her.

He was starting to catch his breath when suddenly, the sink collapsed under Adalia and fell to the floor with a crash. Water sprayed everywhere, and if Daryl had not caught her by the waist Adalia would surely have found herself face-first in the wreckage.

"Damn," she heard Daryl swearing as he zipped his pants up and hurried to turn off the water supply to the irreparable sink. Adalia was the first to laugh, but soon Daryl was too, shaking his head at her and the absurdity of the situation. He helped gather her clothes before they were too saturated, and she slipped back into everything but the bra, which she dropped into the trash can.

"Sorry bout that," Daryl murmured as she did, starting to return to himself a bit.

"You were worth the price of a bra, shug," she told him, shortening sugar to shug most intimately.

"And a sink?" he asked, still smiling.

"I have no idea how that happened. Must've been while Bobby was stumbling around here before I kicked him out earlier," she said, running her fingers through her hair.

"Must've been," Daryl agreed, his sweet smile and blue eyes held her enraptured for a moment before she moved to kiss him; but realizing how he had stiffened up at her approach, she planted the kiss on his cheek instead. He buttoned his shirt back up and smoothed his hair down before opening the door for her.

The snickers from Daryl's party told them they had been able to be heard over the sound of Lynyrd Skynyrd on the jukebox. Adalia's cheeks burned a bit but she did her best to ignore the rowdy men. She could hear Daryl telling them to shut up as he finished his beer and put some cash down on the bar.

"No, you don't!" she told him lightly, handing him the money back. "I told you you weren't paying tonight and I meant it."

"Well in that case…" Merle said, pushing back from the bar and standing unsteadily. He picked up the cash he had put down and began to pocket it.

"Uh-uh, hey now. Daryl rushed to my defense while y'all just sat there on your lazy asses!" she told him, holding her hand open for his money.

"Well that was cuz we knew you could handle yourself with that liquor bottle; you were about to crack his head open! We respected you as a woman that didn't need saving by no man!" he rambled drunkenly.

"Nice try, pay up," she told him, and Merle did pay up. Daryl cast one last look over his broad shoulder as they left and lifted one hand in a wave. Adalia nodded at him and as the door closed behind the men, Jenny started shaking Adalia by the shoulders and squealing happily for her.

"I have never, not once, seen that man smile. You must have a magic cooter!" she teased. Adalia laughed and fanned her hand over her face.

"I don't know about that, but uh, yeah, it was…" she was at a loss for words. "how often did you say they drift in this way?"

"Every few months, but I'd say it might be a bit sooner next time," Jenny replied.

Adalia smiled at the thought, but whenever they did come back around, she hoped she would still be around as well.

#daryl dixon #original female character #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon smut

2 notes · View notes

sunnyie-eve · 1 year ago

Text

SEVEN

Series: Life Lesson || Sorority Boys

Paring: (Adam/ Adina x OFC!)

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: language, mention of drugging

Last | Next

Mia decided not to go to work or even go onto campus today because she didn't want to bump into Adam. She didn't want to play his little game and even if he wasn't trying to play it anymore she didn't want to be a part of it.

"Have you been in here all day?" Adam walks into Mia's room to see her laying in bed reading a book.

"Yes, I didn't want to run into Adam today so here I am." She bookmarks her page.

"Why? I thought you two were talking decently." He sits at the end of her bed.

"We were but I know he's only doing it because he can't stand a hot girl like me not liking him." She rolls her eyes sitting up.

"What makes you think that?" He raises an eyebrow.

"I'm not dumb... Plus his friend told me to be cautious of him." She says making Adam get up and leave the room to find Dave.

"He's still not back?" He asks Doofer.

"He had to study with Leah." Doofer says so he goes back to Mia.

"You believe his friend?" He crosses his arms.

"Yeah, because I already knew because my ex did the same. Just because I'm hot and blonde doesn't mean I don't have a brain. The dude thought hitting with his guitar was good enough." Mia laughs making Adam leave when he hears Dave.

"You told her to not talk to me. You told her what I was trying to do?" He closes their door.

"I told her to be cautious of you because she's a nice girl. Plus she knew what you're doing. I didn't say shit to her." Dave tells him.

"I'm pissed and I'm gonna try to take a shit." He leaves and Mia goes into their room.

"Daisy, are you done with my notes? I kinda need them back now." She waits at the doorway.

"Oh, yeah. Thank you so much for letting me use them today." He finds the journal giving it to her.

"Of course, we're sisters and friends." She smiles while Dave starts to feel bad for all the lying.

When Mia leaves the room Adam goes in telling the guys he was done. Doofer tells him his plan on how to get the tape back but Adam didn't want to do it. Well, that's as till Dave told him he was basically screwed trying to get a job because of his grades. "Fuck." He gives in. "Mia!" He calls her name going towards her room.

"Yes?"

"I have a date with Jimmy and I don't know what to wear..." He gives her an awkward smile.

"You said yes?" She laughs at him.

"It's so he'll stop." He rolls his eyes.

"Do you have an idea of what you are going for? The look?"

"No. That's why I can to you. Everything you wear looks great on you." He sits on her bed.

"I think I have a shirt that might fit you." She goes to dig through her closet. "Try this." She pulls out a red long sleeve.

"I'll be back." He goes to his room to change and finds a skirt to go with it. "How does this look?" He goes back into her room.

"It works with it. You wearing heels?" Mia gives him a look.

"No, flats."

"Good girl." Mia laughs. "Good luck with Jimmy." She gives him a smile and he leaves the room.

While Adam entered his old room with Jimmy he looks around for wear the tape is. As he looks at a pail of things he sees a picture of Mia, "Mia...Whose is this?" He asks as Jimmy turns on the music.

"One of the guys found it in an old box of past seniors." Jimmy turns the music in.

Adam puts the picture in his purse not wanting hers to go back in the box where they keep old seniors pictures of chicks that have taken the walk of shame. Now it really made sense why she hated K.O.K guys.

Adam end up going over to drop the roofy in Jimmy's drink but he didn't know Jimmy did the same to his drink. And from there everything went downhill for him because Dave never showed up for him.

Mia's night was her hanging out with the girls downstairs talking about their feelings till Doofer got the party started for them. Mia didn't care for getting high so she watched the girls cracking up at them while she drank.

Going back to her room, Daisy passes her bumping into her, and rushing to her room. "What was that all about?" Mia goes to Leah's room.

"We kissed..." Leah says with her face in her pillow.

"Maybe she's just a little confused... I know she likes you though. It's very obvious." Mia sits next to her sister.

"I'm embarrassed and confused myself."

"Don't be embarrassed... And why are you confused? It's okay to like guys and girls, I do." Mia says making Leah look at her.

"What?" She sits up.

"You know my best friend when we were in high school... well we were actually an off-and-on thing in secret." Mia laughs.

"That makes so much sense now because you two were very very close and comfortable with each other." Leah makes Mia laugh more.

"Just get some rest and let Daisy sleep on it."

Mia kisses the tips of Leah's head.

Mia hears the girls downstairs still and peeks in to see some passed out and others out of it from being high. She shakes her head going to her room and hopes Adina was okay with Jimmy.

"Mia..." Dave knocks on her door opening it.

"You know it's okay to kiss Leah right." She tells him.

"I'm just confused and I don't want to hurt her because I'm hiding a secret." He sits on her bed.

"What kind of secret?"

"Ummm, I sorta had someone back home... it's complicated." Dave makes up a lie.

"Well, you just made it more complicated, huh? Whatever you do... try not to hurt my sister too bad. I'm really tired so I'll see you tomorrow."

#Sorority Boys #2002 movies #adam #adina #doofer #roberta #dave #dasiy #michael rosenbaum #harland williams #barry watson #frat boys #comedy #ff #fanifiction #fanfic

0 notes

zedif-y · 2 years ago

Text

"That was genius, Tango!" Jimmy cheers the moment they're alone. "Absolutely genius!"

The grin Tango gives is positively blinding, shining like the sun as he thrums with excess energy, still riding on the adrenaline of previous events.

"It kinda backfired at the start, but I'd say it was totally worth the effort, right?" He gestures excitedly with his hands, beaming as Jimmy leads him back inside the house.

Their house.

"Definitely. Did you see them panic?" Jimmy laughs, kicking his shoes off when they're inside. "I still can't believe you've managed that," He says. "I mean, an entire Warden! Up here!"

Tango laughs where he's leaned against the wall, taking his shoes off. "Well, down at the ravine, now." He jokes, a glint in his eyes as he smiles, pleased with his own joke.

Jimmy giggles, and oh if that doesn't make Tango's heart blaze like a wildfire, spurring him on. It does absolutely nothing to quell the energy in his veins, if anything, seeing Jimmy's laugh, seeing him happy has just made it a lot worse.

"Say, did you feed the cows today?" Tango asks, looking for something to do. From where he's been sifting through the chest, Jimmy looks at him, confused.

"Yeah? I fed them between fixing the house and building the wall." He shuts the chest, having found what he needed. "Why?"

Tango shakes his head. "Nothing. Just extra energy, y'know?"

Jimmy's expression grows fond, and he beckons him closer. "C'mere, we've gotta go to bed. It's late." He says, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"We don't have a clock." Tango teases, just because he can. Jimmy pulls a face. "Alright, alright, I'm coming." He concedes, following him.

Tango shuts off the torchlight along the way, letting the faint light of the moon take its place as they get themselves comfortable on the bed.

They end up in their usual arrangement, Jimmy as the big spoon with his arms around Tango, his head resting on Tango's blonde curls. They've both got their backs turned to the wall, in silent agreement to let them see anyone who decides to drop in during the night.

"G'night, Tango." Jimmy yawns, his warmth all around him.

"Night, Jimmy." Tango replies quietly, closing his eyes to sleep.

Or, he tries to.

Tango can't help it, he keeps tossing and turning during the night, going back and forth in between Jimmy's arms as he tries and fails to fall asleep.

It was bad enough that he'd had to slip out of Jimmy's embrace, worried that he'll wake up the other man. Jimmy, fully asleep and dead to the world, does nothing but roll over to face the other side.

He resists the urge to groan as he looks up at the ceiling, still not even a little bit sleepy.

Tango rearranges his pillow again, for probably the fifth time that night.

"Dude, are you gonna sleep or what?"

Tango startles, freezing in place. "I- You're awake?"

Jimmy turns to him, cracking one eye open. "Could barely sleep with you rolling around over there, really." He says, voice rough.

Tango winces. "Sorry."

Jimmy shakes his head, "Don't be," He puts a hand on Tango's arm, pulling lightly. "Lay down."

Tango does as he's told, facing Jimmy on the bed. "I didn't mean to wake you... I just can't sleep." He whispers. Jimmy puts an arm around him, inching closer.

" 's alright..." He mumbles, eyes fluttering shut. "Don't mind..."

Jimmy's hand around him starts absently running through his hair, brushing through the soft strands and soothing his scalp. Slowly, Tango starts to relax.

Oh, he thinks. This is nice.

After some time, he hears Jimmy say something. He opens his eyes, (when had he closed them?) "Hmm?"

"Are you purring?" Jimmy asks in a low voice, his hand still in Tango's hair. Half-asleep now, he can't even find it in him to be embarrassed. He nods.

Above him, Jimmy hums, and that's that.

(Privately, he files this information away for later. Who knew Tango had an off switch?)

When the hand in his hair starts to slow, Tango doesn't even notice, sleeping soundly. Jimmy smiles down at him, heart full of love as he presses a kiss on Tango's forehead.

He dozes off not long after.

#team rancher #dlshipping #trafficblr #trafficshipping #double life smp #dlsmp #dlsmp spoilers #dlsmp jimmy #dlsmp tango #rancher duo #solidaritek #team rancher fic #solidaritek fic #rancher duo fic #double life #ryan's writing #feel like i have to clarify my tango design has a Tail

492 notes · View notes

salmonskinrolltf · 2 years ago

Text

Anniversary Present - Pt. 2

Read Part 1 here to see how our couple Levi and Jace ended up looking like these 2006 dudes:

Jace expertly shook the hair out of his eyes with a flick of his neck and rushed up the stairs to Levi’s room. He figured the best thing would be a shock to the system, so he kicked open the door and shouted, “Levi, we’re married.”

Levi lifted his hat and scrubbed a hand through his sweaty locks. “Jace, leave me alo-“ His eyes widened. “Jace?” He rushed over to his husband. “What happened? Why are we acting this way?”

Jace furrowed his brow. “What do you remember?”

“Well… We were high school sweethearts, we got married. It was… our anniversary! I got you that watch! We twisted the dial back, and that’s all I remember. And now I feel… crude. Like I love my life, but now that I remember, I feel like I didn’t used to be this way? Like the old me would have judged my taste, which is shitty because I have fucking awesome taste. Old me didn’t fucking know what he was missing, like Fight Club fucking rocks. And… I remember you! Your hair didn’t used to be like that. You didn’t mope around all the time like this. Well… You kinda did. You were pretty uptight about… like, everything. Sorry, dude, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I guess I don’t really have a filter anymore.”

Jace scowled. “Uptight? Just because I asked you to wash a dish once in a while? And shave more than once a week? You know what, nevermind, that’s not important right now. I have a question to ask you. When were you born?”

“Easy. 1981.”

“OK, it’s not just me. I remember being someone different, and I feel like it wasn’t… now. But I can’t remember anything after this. It’s like I have the memories I did before, but they’re all transposed. Like I remember graduating high school in 1999 and blasting Jimmy Eat World in the car with you on the way to college.”

“Well then maybe we just ate some bad mushrooms.”

“Levi, I don’t think you should be coming up with any ideas like… this. I’m pretty sure what happened is this watch, somehow, some way, translated us? Back in time? I’m certain we’re from the future, I just… don’t remember how far. And the watch just kind of… picked personalities and roles for us based on the most popular trends of the time. Like you definitely weren’t so mainstream. I was though. I was a fucking poser.” He flipped the hair out his his eyes with a huff. “But I also think we need to get back to the way we were. Even if we’re able to shake off the false memories of the new us pretty quickly, it seems like we also gain the personality traits and instincts of whoever we’re inhabiting. And there’s no way I’m living out my life married to… this.”

“The fuck is wrong with my outfit? I look fly!”

“…Nothing, dear. Let’s just try to get back to normal.”

“Well, DEAR, how can we do that if we don’t remember what year IS normal?”

“Let’s just twist the forward dial a LITTLE bit and see if it feels right?” Jace grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled the words “Trial 1: Starting point - 2006.” He noticed Levi staring at him, a puzzled look on his face. “So we can remember what year we started in.”

“Good idea, dude.”

Jace twisted the forward dial slowly, and the digital readout clicked forward. 20:08. 20:10. 20:15. The dial snapped off in his hands. He tried to reinsert it, but it was just a nub. Clearly something vital had snapped off this time. He sighed. “Well…. I guess let’s hope we went far enough forward.”

FLASH

Instantly, Jace saw his hair slithering upward past his eyes, fading back to a dirty blonde as it did so, the jet black tips being the last to go. He felt a weight on the back of his head and realized that his hair hadn’t actually gotten shorter, it was just tied into a messy bun with a loop of twine. A lock got dislodged and dangled in front of his face and he expertly swept it back into the mass.

His arms itched. They didn’t change, remaining skinny toothpicks, but they became dotted with coarse brown hairs. He could feel his chest prickling too as sparse hairs sprouted in the shallow valley between his nipples. His chin tingled as more coarse brown hair sprouted, this time less sparse. He felt like he was being tickled and teased as more and more hair began to sprout, extending into a short, thick beard. A mustache unfurled across his lips as he ran his fingers through his beard, sending an electric thrill through his entire body. He suddenly felt naked in just his T-shirt and grabbed some of his favorite accessories off the stand in the hall, which was piled high. Yes, this jacket was perfect. And the hat would do. He was just missing something… Ah, yes a scarf! Now everything felt right as rain…

Meanwhile, Levi had been experiencing nothing short of a religious experience. He’d always known he could use more muscle, but had been too lazy to actually go to the gym, but now his body was pumping up. He felt himself up under his shirt as his pecs inflated in his hands, the nipples popping out so they would always show if he was wearing anything thin enough. His fingers started to scrape against roughness on his skin that eventually softened as a mat of dark black hair sprouted and curled over his pecs, extending in a broad trail down his abs, which rose from his skin like a loaf of bread in the oven. His arms began to widen like somebody was pumping him with air, thick black hair racing across his newly broadening forearms to create a masculine thatch.

Suddenly, he felt a choking sensation around his neck. He reached up to feel two necklaces had wrapped themselves around him. He toyed with one of them, noticing his fingers rubbing up against even more hair as a dark, black beard sprouted from his chin. A flash of black caused him to look down, and his hair fell in his face when he did so, elongating until the wavy strands reached his chin. He swept them back behind his head with a casual flourish.

Memories began to bubble up of sitting in front of his webcam all day, creating content for his liberal opinion vlog on YouTube. What seemed like a million page dossier on the upcoming election unfurled in his brain all at once and he felt a fire ignite deep in his soul. He had to TELL people what he thought about the latest bill passed in Congress, but first… Levi took a deep breath and let his automatic memories settle. Yes. He was here. Jace was here. But was it his Jace? He still remembered a formerly uptight husband that didn’t seem to match the intentionally scruffy person standing before him.

He nervously played with one of his necklaces, revealing chipped polish on the nails of his right hand.

“Well babe, does this look right?”

Jace looked at him annoyed. “Of course it looks right, babe. It’s VINTAGE. The watch is MEANT to clash with everything else.” He rolled his eyes and kissed Levi on the cheek. “I’m off to work my shift at the coffee den.”

Jace continued, “Text me if you need anything. Have fun burning down the establishment!”

With that, he hopped on his motorbike and rode off. Levi shrugged. “Don’t mind if I do.” He returned to his office and flicked on his key light, ready to break down the day’s events for his millions of followers.

Continue to Part 3

#Era #Hipster #Vlogger #Liberal #Hair #Beard #Muscle

95 notes · View notes

doctorsiren · 3 years ago

Text

JimmySolidarity and Mumbo Jumbo are fraternal twin brothers. How did we get here? Well…let me explain *swoops cape around to make a scene transition*

It all started with my dear friend Foop sending these tweet screenshots to the Hermitcraft discussion channel of my discord server (DM me for the invite link)

So then, naturally, I wanted to draw Jimmy, Scott, and Mumbo as best buddies! Forget the Architechs; Flower Husbands + Bestie was gonna be my new thing /hj

So I drew this:

This was a joke, of course. So then, I went to draw an actual thing. I started drawing Jimmy and realized that, hey, he kinda looks like Mumbo IRL.

And so the story goes like this:

Since Jimmy is 6 months younger than Mumbo, we (mostly meaning Foop, Pho, and I) decided that Jimmy’s IRL actual bday was NOT his bday in this AU, but a fake date he believed to be his birthday. His real bday would be Dec 1, 1995. He and Mumbo were like separated at birth or something idk haha we haven’t figured that out yet

But Foop and Pho headcanon Jimmy to be 6’4 (he’s 6’0 irl I think) and so Mumbo is taller than him by an inch and it gives off Mabel and Dipper vibes haha

Since they’re fraternal twins, it explains why Jimmy is blonde and also explains why he doesn’t have the same crooked teeth or eyes that Mumbo has when he has no mustache (Jimmy shaves, but if he didn’t, he would also have a mustache haha)

They have the same eye colour and facial features

So the first time they meet, they, of course, have NO idea that they’re twins, brothers, or even related AT ALL since if someone looked at them side-by-side, it would be hard to make a connection at first glance. If that person were to look more closely at their features, however, they would be able to to tell that “hey, these two dudes have basically the same face!”

I have so many twins in my arsenal. Don’t know why, but I love making AUs or headcanons with them

The name of this AU? at the moment: Jumbros

Created by me, Foop, and Pho (those two are my server’s resident Flower Husband Experts TM)

We take no criticism; it’s just for fun

And yes, I do plan to do more doodles for this, for it is bringing me such joy

330 notes · View notes

the-edge-of-great · 4 years ago

Text

a.a: “can you come pick me up?” & a.f: “i need you. please.” for @sunsetcurve123 !! :)

------

warning: drug mentions and minor usage. there are implications but not much detail.

------

Willie neither opposes nor enjoys parties, but if it’s up to him, he’ll opt for a more inclusive night with his friends versus a time at a house he’ll never go to again, clumped together with friends of friends of friends. It’s been a while since he was here though, squished between Nalia and Jimmy, making mental bets on how long it’ll take these people to finally stumble over the sobriety line. He’s been here an hour—it won’t be long now.

It’s Friday night. Last Friday, he was on a different couch, submersed in fresh air and the new music his boyfriend’s band is working on. Actually, for the last few Fridays, he’s been on that other couch, hanging out with a different set of friends of a friend. Things run at a different speed over there. They don’t smoke, don’t drink. They never have to tiptoe around the house when blue lights flash through the windows, worried about getting arrested. It’s… kind of nice.

But Willie missed his friends. That’s what he told Alex the last time they talked. Willie missed his friends, Alex was becoming more committed to their band that was actually starting to take off, and then this became a whole thing.

“Here,” Jimmy says, shoving a bottle into his hand.

Willie shakes his head, passing it to Nalia. “Not interested.”

“You finally hang out with us, and you’re just going to stay sober this whole night?”

“Just here to be here, dude.”

It’s been three days. Alex says they’ve been busy preparing for a gig on Saturday. Willie pretends that doesn’t bug him by telling him he already had plans with his friends, anyway. They’re barely interacting more than a few short texts after school.

There isn’t any music here. Or if there is, he can’t hear it over the voices. Willie pauses, listening hard. Indie shit, probably. Whatever it is, it’s not as entertaining as Julie and the Phantoms.

The bottle makes its way around again. He catches Jimmy give him an unimpressed look, one half shaved eyebrow raised, lips pressed together knowingly.

“How’re things going with you and Alex?”

Willie scowls. He grabs the bottle.

hey

Delivered 9:30 PM

we’re still together right

Delivered 9:30 PM

i hope so

Delivered 9:30 PM

This house has a balcony. But, like, inside. An indoor balcony. So cool.

“Ah, I wouldn’t get too close there,” someone says, catching him around the waist. They laugh, lips right next to his ear. The hot breath against his skin is as chilling as ice piercing his heart. Willie blinks, straightening in this guy’s hold. If the stranger notices, he doesn’t comment.

“Don’t worry,” Willie says, turning out of his hold. “Not gone enough to try flying.”

The stranger chuckles. He’s cute when he smiles, wrinkles by his eyes, perfect white teeth, black hair flopping against his forehead with the bouncing of his shoulders. “It’s pretty cool, huh? Especially with that window.” He points at the giant window overlooking the neighborhood. They’re on the rich side of town, where houses have two floors, hillside views of the city, and indoor balconies.

Willie side eyes him. “This your house?”

“What gave it away?”

He shrugs. “Your vibe.”

“My vibe?” The guy laughs again.

Willie shrugs, throwing a halfhearted smile over his shoulder as he turns for the stairs. “See you around, rich guy.”

“Hey, wait—” He catches Willie’s wrist, pulling him back. “I didn’t even catch your name.”

Chewing his cheek, Willie looks him over. “Willie.”

“Cool. I’m Miles.”

“Cool. I have a boyfriend.” Willie pulls his wrist free. “Just saying.”

“I don’t see him here.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m not single.”

Miles hums, licking his lip. “Well. I’m not opposed to one night. What about you?”

Willie raises an eyebrow. This guy isn’t tall. He’s a few inches taller than Willie, but still. Willie wants tall. He wants blond, too. And blue eyes. Seems like only those key features will make his heart race these days (among other things).

“Sorry,” Willie says, shaking his head. “Not interested.” He leaves quick but casual. He’s never wanted to act sober more than in that moment, when he can feel Miles’ eyes following him down the stairs.

can you come pick me up?

Delivered 10:00 PM

i need you. please.

Delivered 10:05 PM

Read 10:06 PM

Where are you?

Delivered 10:06 PM

Willie’s vision is blurred, and he feels like he’s floating, but still, he can tell from across the yard that Alex is uncomfortable and nervous. If he was more alert, he’d feel really bad. But at the moment, he’s just happy he came. Three days of minimal conversation, and Alex actually left his friends to come to his rescue. Cute.

“Hey,” Willie says as he approaches, grinning at Alex.

“Hey,” Alex replies distractedly, gaze dragging over him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Willie swings their hands back and forth. “Some guy was hitting on me, and I remembered how much I missed you.”

Alex frowns, opening and closing his mouth, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh…?”

“Thanks for showing up.” Willie rocks on his heels. “I, uh. I didn’t know if you would for sure.”

At that, Alex’s face softens. His fingers catch Willie’s chin, and he forces Willie to look up at him. “Of course I would. We are still together, you know.”

Willie snickers. “Good. Had me worried for a second.”

Chewing his lip, Alex nods toward his car. “C’mon. Let’s get going.” He opens the door for Willie, what a gentleman.

As they’re pulling away from the curb, Willie catches Jimmy and Nalia watching from the porch. Nalia waves them off. Jimmy turns on his heel and disappears into the house without a second glance. Willie sighs, sinking into his seat.

“Are we okay?” he asks after a moment of silence.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Alex glance at him. “Yeah?” Alex says. “I think so?”

“We just… haven’t really talked much.”

“You know I’ve been busy with the band, and, well… you could’ve come tonight.” Alex looks between him and the road. “You know you’re always welcome.”

“Yeah… I know.”

Alex pokes his tongue into his cheek, flipping on the turning signal. “I guess I forgot you had friends before me.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No. Of course it’s not.”

“It… kinda sounds like that’s a problem.”

They stop at a stop sign. Alex sighs. “I just…” He turns to him, playing with his fingers, and admits quietly, “I don’t want to be that person who controls their boyfriend—”

“You could never be that person,” Willie reassures.

“—but I miss you too. And I’m sorry the band has been taking up so much of my time—”

“You guys have a big show tomorrow.” Willie shrugs. “I get it.”

Alex opens and closes his mouth, swallowing back whatever he was going to say. Willie reaches forward, fingers tracing the curve of his face and raking through his hair. He wishes he knew what Alex is thinking right now—there’s always something going on in his head.

“Are you busy Sunday?” Alex finally asks, meeting his eye.

Willie smiles. “I am now. What do you have in mind?”

Alex shakes his head, his grin mirroring Willie’s. “Nothing special. I just want to be with you.”

Willie hums. “A whole day with you to myself?” He presses a soft kiss to Alex’s lips. “Sounds pretty special to me.”

As they continue down the road, Alex asks, “You’re coming tomorrow night, right?”

Willie lifts Alex’s hand to his mouth, peppering kisses across his knuckles. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he promises.

There was once a thing Willie refers to now as Pre-Alex Friday Nights. They were fun then, but now, he lives for the Alex Friday Nights. Music he actually likes, company he can actually enjoy—and be comfortable enough to choose to stay sober!— and a space he actually feels safe enough in to visit again.

That’s his boyfriend Alex Mercer, he supposes.

Constantly making his life better.

#julie and the phantoms #willex #willie jatp #alex mercer #jatp #eog writes

51 notes · View notes

siren-virus · 3 years ago

Note

You know what? Just because you’d be able to talk my ears off with LuckyBoy!AU, I’m gonna keep asking you about it with long asks so I can get long answers (I love reading long answers since they give out so much info and speculation, while leaving room for discussion as well). So let's have a chat through asks so neither of us have anxiety(?) while talking to each other in messages.

Who would be some of the regulars when Ben is working at the cooffe shop? (I also love this au XD) Would Cooper, Rook, Gwen, Max and/or anyone else go at the same time as a group and have a casual conversation with the barista? Would Ben accidently gain confidential information about the Plumbers this way? I wonder if he would be famous between the aliens and humans near Undertown as one of the few humans that's actually chill with every alien regardless of appearances thanks to knowing Gwen with the Omnitrix from before?

I feel like Ben purposefully avoiding Cooper as his vigilante persona would start as a measure to avoid his identity being exposed (I belive it was Cooper who exposed him in UAF, right?), but later would develop into a troll play, waiting for him to finally find him and play a prank there.

Would Ben play pranks on Will Harangue for giving him bad publicity to the humans? I mean, it's not like he can just appear in front of a camera and tell his side of the story, he would be captured instantly, or interrupted at the very least; and he having his own social media wouldn't work too well since he isn't a tech genius and the Plumbers could track him down.

Also, what has Gwen done that they think they need Ben to protect them from her? Like yeah, in OV there's a lot of property damage, but they don't believe they need protection from him (at least I don't think so), so she must've done something big in order for that to happen.

And now an ask that isn't directly related to Ben XD Who would be some of the people leading an investigation against the vigilante, trying to discover his identity as well as species? Like I imagine Rook would be more of an addon to said investigation, being on the lookout but not actively investigating everything that Ben has been involved with, and Gwen has a lot on her plate, so let's not let her join said investigation.

Oh oh oh, I just thought about it, if Ben could be considered an Anodite in this AU, what happened when Verdona appeared in that one episode of AF? Did she manage to find Ben in the first place and almost but not quite take him away? Does the rest of the family know he's an Anodite and what are their thoughts about it? If they don't then how would Ben explain some of the magic things that he does and someone witness?

Ohohoh, buttering me up are ya? Well you're in for a brain dump.

Ok, first I gotta say: The alien cafe is separate to the plumbers (the plumbers have their on cafeteria, but like to indulge in other food sometimes, and non-instant coffee.)

So I was thinking, one of Ben's regular coworkers is Alan Albright. Reason for this is because Alan is not allowed to go on missions often. He's too young. I mean I know they definitely have child soldiers in OS- buuuut Max's influence has put a stop to that. He's seen how it affected Gwen. So, Alan is put on easy patrols in low crime area, in the city.

Alan, however wants in on the action, so Max had suggested the cafe. Ben and Alan have a very brotherly bond, and Ben (outside of his vigilante life) has been swaying Alan's opinion on both, the plumbers and his alter ego.

Manny, Alan, Helen and Cooper- When not busying himself with the tech lounge- (sorry, Pierce is still dead in this), will often come by the cafe, they sit in a booth and discuss things. Most occasions Ben is invited to sit with them.

When Gwen pops by their interactions are brief, Ben would try to tease her about anything and everything under the sun. "See Kevin lately?" "Oh, got beat by the walking glow stick again, huh?" "Geez, another jail break? 3rd time this week!"

Normally he gets a fiery reaction and a nasty retort.

Of course Ben would take every opportunity he can to get info. At first it wasn't intentional, he'd just eaves drop on a few conversations that interested him. As time goes by though, he's found that a lot of people, plumber, criminal and just outer space travelers, are more than happy to unload some gossip. Ben is very much delighted by that.

He's not exactly famous, he's well known for being a friendly person, yes. But not all throughout Undertown.

ain't cooper the blond dude with some kinda telekenetic power that ended up turning into an almost Kevin duplicate? (i'll fix that) NGL I forgot he grew up in UAF.

Pretty sure the one that exposed Ben was the nerd who was voiced by the VA of Robin (TeenTitans/Go). Now that you bring it up though, that guy... Jimmy, is someone to be avoided, cause he's a snoopy guy. Who also hangs out at the cafe a lot to get details. Always ends up harassing Ben cause he knows Ben has all the juicy gossip.

And yeah Ben would totally take advantage of it to mess with the poor kid.

Definitely. Ben would mess with Will Harangue as much as possible. Especially when he goes live. Ben won't confront him personally, or do anything that could possibly reveal his indentity. He's got a lot of unique mannerisms that his family could quickly pick up on, there's also his voice, although muffled by the mask, if it's recorded enough- it's another identifier.

So that leaves Ben with his sticker trail. They're very bright, almost blinding, so Ben's stickers are an annoying inconvenience. He could also use a weak spell that causes it's victims to yawn/sneeze. Maybe he'll hang in the background briefly and wave. Just some of things he does to get under Harangue's skin basically.

Gwen:

So, you picked up on what I've hinted at. Good.

Before I go into Gwen, I'll say this: The plumbers are stationed on Earth to protect humanity. That means the aliens who have immigrated are less of a priority. That doesn't mean that they're completely unsafe, the plumbers still patrol Undertown and look after the people- just less so.

Aliens that leave Undertown especially- Normally they're ushered back by a few Plumbers standing guard- those that pose a threat or seem to pose a threat are dealt with by the plumbers. Which isn't too bad, just a slap on the back, a fine, maybe jail time.

Unless you run into Gwen. Who is much more intimidating, much more brutish, she won't exactly hold back. So- she hasn't got the best rep with Undertown. She's still a hero. Known throughout the universe. Just not a kind one.

On several occassions, Ben(vigilante) has had to step in to get her to back down from dealing with criminals.

The plumbers don't have a lot to go on with the investigating. Ben doesn't leave any DNA trails, cause anodites have no DNA. No hair strands, no finger prints, no blood. Even his stickers. They got nothing, nada.

That doesn't mean it's completely hopeless. A clean hit to Ben has on more than one occasion shocked him out of his anodite form, reverting him back to human (which is why he has the glasses and face mask, as a just incase scenario.) Sometimes even spooking/shocking him can make him human again. If his focus is messed with he's human, kinda deal.

So the plumbers are aware of this. They do their best to be as violent and destructive when they see Ben. They're attempts usually fail unless they have someone competent enough with them, Ie; Gwen, Rook.

Villains are also aware of this. So risky buiz am I right?

In regards to Verdona; honestly, I feel like having her know about Ben's existence as an anodite would kinda nerf this whole thing completely. Verdona, I bet, would be a massive gossip. Although her contact with Max is limited, he'd hear about it eventually. Game over. There's also Sunny, who would take advantage of this information and spread it across the universe.

So instead maybe Verdona pays a visit later rather than now.

She'd also be less inclined to take Ben back home, I like how Verdona is indifferent to Ben but loves Gwen, I wanna keep that aspect.

To explain any magic happenings that his family or friends have spotted, he just says he's practicing to be an illusionist. Or he broke a glow stick, or his has glitter in his pocket. (He always has something retaining to magenta hidden up his sleeve.)

Hopefully that got all your questions answered for now!

#ben 10 #lucky boy! au #answer

21 notes · View notes

patroclusonly · 4 years ago

Text

Buck Begins headcanon: why he joined the seals, how he fell into firefighting and bi buck confirmed all in one.

Some people are actually starting to like this headcanon of Buck’s boo, so I decided to make a post about this to have everything in one place.

Big thanks to @himbo-buckley for coming up with some great ideas and helping me and waiting patiently until I finished this! <333

(Hopefully y’all read it and like it and even come to my inbox with thoughts because I want to hear them)

(tw: cancer and death by cancer are mentioned)

Buck started sleeping around right after he left his parents house. They were distant and also didn’t allow him to do much so he didn’t have a long dating history, was pretty inexperienced and his self-esteem wasn’t so good. (still isn’t but we’re talking about physical image here and we know he loves that now)

Being a 6’2, blond, blue eyed and pretty smile, charismatic hunk did help him a lot there. He got girls’ attention really quick and he was surprised, but after the first two he was like “damn,I got game” and started his journey of countless hook ups.

Not long into that journey, he realized guys were hot too and that college was a place to try new things right? So, boom, he discovered he was bi.

After college he went to south america and he got that bartending job. Now, I need to add pictures because I’m a visual thinker, so Buck looked kinda like this (but with like, no shirt or something because summer in south america):

And one day while he was working at the bar, this super hot dude walks in and they hit it off but not for a hookup at that first moment(both think the other is straight).

This dude’s name is Dave, he’s a SEAL, around 26 I guess, and he looks like this (remember, visual thinker):

He’s there with Jimmy, his high school best friend who always tries to plan get togethers when Dave is off duty. (this one get together vacation is special but you’ll find out why a littler later)

The idea of Jimmy started with a SEAL buddy of Dave, then changed to be a high school best friend that is actually a woman named Jemma that goes by Jimmy and that looked like Laura Harrier and that is actually a lesbian. BUT, after discussing it some more, Jimmy is still the high school lesbian bff but now she looks like this:

Because I saw a picture of Zazie Beetz and went “damn, she has the vibe to be Jimmy” so, she is now.

That first night when Buck and Dave met, they talked a lot. Even after Buck’s shift was over, they just sat there -way too close for two straight dudes who just met- and talked for hours.

Buck told him about his life, his sister, how he didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life now that he was out of college.

Dave told him how he met Jimmy, how he was a SEAL because his family was a military family but that his true dream was to be a firefighter.

They did that almost every day for maybe two weeks? before Jimmy was like “Make a move or I’ll do it for you!”.

So Dave, looking like that but not being even half as smooth as Buck, tries and fails to make a move. But that gives Buck the push he needed to make a move and he kisses him.

Things move pretty quickly after that, they start sleeping together, sort of dating but not really talking about it, just feeling it.

They fall hard. Like, “I’m so in love with you that every time you smile at me my heart melts a little” in love. Like “I see you looking at me with the softest eyes and I can’t help but smile” in love. That hard. But they never admitted it out loud. Until that last day.

Dave was sick. He had been sick all that time but by the end of the fourth month he was getting worse.

He noticed six months before going to that vacation, when he was working and couldn’t keep up with his team anymore. He got tired fast, started coughing when he did routine exercises. He went to the doctor and discovered it was regional small cell lung cancer.

The SEALs wouldn’t let him go back so he spent those six months trying everything. Chemo, radiation therapy, different meds, nothing really worked. And he hated how that made him feel, so he just gave that up.

He started feeling better and that’s when he and Jimmy decided to go on that vacation together. It was probably going to be their last and they wanted to have a good time.

When the symptoms came back and Dave couldn't hide it anymore, he decided to tell Buck. Not without first convincing Jimmy that they had to leave. Go back home or whatever, but not stay there where Buck would see him just get worse and worse.

That last day, him and Buck have a perfect day. The three of them spend the whole day on the beach, enjoying the warm sun and calming sound of the waves hitting the shore.

At night Buck and Dave go to Buck’s room. He lived in an apartment with a roommate but the good thing was that their shifts were usually fixed so that when one was working, the other wasn’t. And he could get the place for himself for a few hours.

After a moment in silence where Dave was mentally preparing himself to tell Buck the truth, he does. He tells him he’s dying and that there’s nothing he can do and that he will not stay there to make Buck watch him slowly lose the life in him. He want Buck to remember him for those perfect months they had together.

Buck gets angry at first, not like, yelling angry. But just that heavy feeling in his chest that turns into sadness after a second. His eyes fill with tears and he just hugs him as tight as he can and stays there for a few minutes. He asks him to stay but Dave doesn’t answer that.

Instead he tells him that it’s okay, that he knew that was coming and that he’s sorry he didn’t tell him sooner. But he’s so glad that he got to meet Buck before and that if he were to die the next day he’d die happy. Right then he finally says I love you for the first time.

Neither of them has said it before, and Buck just stares at him for a moment. He doesn’t want to say it, not then when it feels so final. So he kisses him, slow and desperate at the same time. To let him know that he does love him, that he loves him so much the affection and the fondness and the sadness he feels about losing him compares to nothing he’s ever felt before.

They make love for the first time that day, not sex, but real love making with all the feelings and intimacy and closeness they needed to reassure themselves that everything they lived those past months had happened and that they were lucky enough to find each other. Even if it was for a short period of time.

Buck falls asleep and Dave stays awake, looking at him, smiling to himself, holding him close and kissing him one last time.

He leaves in the middle of the night. He doesn’t say goodbye, doesn’t explain, doesn’t leave a note. And when Buck wakes up and realizes that, he understands and forces himself to move on, but the heartbreak he feels is still the worst pain he’s felt up to that moment.

He stays there another month. Until he gets a call from Jimmy. She tells him Dave died and invites him to the funeral. That is the worst pain he’s ever felt.

He decides to go. It was on the u.s. so he quits his job and goes back.

At the funeral he feels out of place. He doesn’t know anyone and nobody knows him other than Jimmy, who hugs him and cries when she sees him. The two of them are probably the only ones to know that Dave ever dated a man. She tells him he loved Buck like he’s never loved anyone else and that those were the best months of his life.

And Buck can’t cry, he can’t react, he can’t feel anything. He doesn’t want to, because he knew that after the moment he got that call and cried until he ran out of tears, he built a fort around his heart and that if he were to let out everything he really feels, he would just break down and not get back up again.

After that he decided to join the SEALs, as a way to honour Dave, but after six months he realizes it’s not really for him.

So he’s between jobs, and maybe he saves someone accidentally and stays there until the firefighters get there. And that reminds him of the first time he met Dave and how he said his real dream was to be a firefighter and he thinks maybe he could try that to honor him, since the SEALs didn’t work.

So he joins the academy and he passes and he gets a few offers from different stations, because he’s damn good at it.

But one of the offers is in LA, and he can’t say not to that. Not for how they are the best in the whole country or anything like that, but because he remembers how Dave used to love the sun and the ocean, and that seems like the perfect place for him. So, that’s how he starts working at the 118.

He tries not to think how funny and cruel the universe is.

By this time, he’s sleeping around again. Anything to get that closeness he craves but without his heart getting broken again. (Here’s where we find him in season one)

He never told anyone about Dave and he didn’t even hooked up with another man again. He just did everything he could to forget about that and move on.

He can’t do anything but confront his feelings and that triggers a wave of repressed memories and emotions that he can’t control.

But then, one day he starts getting messages and calls from Jimmy. But he’s worked really hard to let that time of his life go, so he just ignores her. Until he can’t, when Jimmy shows up at the fire station.

And this is as far as I can go without involving the present characters. Maybe I will do that?

#i hope this makes sense and y'all like this #because it turned real sad real quick #but i love this idea so much #i have pictures and all #boo i hope this meets your expectations!#it took me a second but here it is #evan buckley #season 4 predictions #buck begins #evan ends #911 headcanon #911 fox #dave #jimmy

87 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 3 years ago

Text

Gimme Love, 3/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Hey, guys! I hope yall are enjoying this fic so far! Throw me a like please if you do. TW for this chapter: Grief // Homophobia

2003 High School. The bane of my existence. Just as I thought elementary and middle school were terrible, High School really was something else. From my childhood therapy sessions, I learned to conceal my anger, avoid freakouts, and channel my emotions into other things. It was good for me, yeah. But it also made me a more reserved person. Things still made me angry, the other kids at school being a primary key to that. But I never defended myself. Ever. Of course, Jujubee always had my back. Only in later years did I learn to appreciate the times she'd yell at the other kids, telling them to fuck off and whatnot. But back then, I wished she hadn't. It only drew more negative attention. All I wanted was to get through those tough years. I would come home a lot, look at pictures of myself as a child. And I'd be so mad because only then did I see that I wasn't an ugly kid. I was adorable. But, God clearly had favourites 'cause puberty did not do me any favours. If only I had grown up in a more modern time when no one gave a shit about looks. When people were outspoken about the cruelty that came with shaming someone for their looks. When people were more aware of the psychological damage that could do. Again, God had favourites. From years of my eyesight getting worse and needing a new pair of glasses every time I went to the eye doctor, I had thick-rimmed frames that made me look straight out of the 70s. And the lenses made my eyes look huge. I looked like Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys. My hair was bigger but full of split ends due to lack of giving a shit about it. I begged Mom to let me bleach it blonde. She always straight up refused. I had braces for a whole year which, yeah, many people had braces, but one time while answering a question in class, I drooled. And no one let me hear the end of it. And makeup wasn't something I really fucked with. I tried it once, safe and sound in my own bedroom, and it looked woeful. Instead of working to get better, I accepted defeat in that I would always be ugly. "I'm serious, girl. The foundation was so bad. And it was too dark." I ranted to Jujubee as we headed to the bus stop. I was trying to smoke my cigarette as fast as I could before getting there. Mom never knew, and what she didn't know couldn't kill her. Of course, I didn't just go into the store and buy them myself. Instead, I took one a day from my Grandpa's supply. "Girl, you gotta test it first." She pointed out, adjusting her bag straps. "Juju, I got the lightest colour they had. I don't fucking get it. Every other girl in the school uses it. Maybelline shouldn't sell this shit." "You just need to find a different brand." She grabbed my shoulder and pulled me closer, "OK, don't tell my Mom, but I tried some of her MAC shit the other day, and my skin looked fucking flawless." She let me go, took my cigarette from me, taking a toke herself. "Well, how am I supposed to get my hands on that?" I took the cig back. "I don't see any MAC stores around here." "Oh, yeah? Well, you know what your Other World self would do?" Jujubee's brow raised, a sweet grin appearing on her mischievous face. "She would say fuck school, hop on the next bus to Cleveland and go straight to the MAC store." Blowing out some smoke, I looked at her, "Well, Other World you wouldn't be encouraging that sort of behaviour." "No, she wouldn't 'cause she'd be the first on the bus." Jujubee countered. "And she'd start the sing-song." "Yeah, well other world me would out-sing you 'cause she's a star. She's a fucking diva, bitch. Mariah Carey has nothing on her." We were too caught up in our fantasy world; we almost missed the vehicle driving past us. Only when we saw the cackling faces of the boys at the back of the bus did realisation take over. We were going to miss the bus. "Fuck." I uttered, watching the guys still flipping us off as they moved further and further away. To make matters worse, a car pulled up beside us. And of fucking course, it was Trevor Preston, the Captain of the football team. His two sidekicks were in the

back seat, Logan and Noah. "Aw, look, guys. The geeks just missed the bus." Trevor fake whined. In these situations, I just shut down. I thought it was for the best at the time, but fuck, if I could go back and punch that guy. "You know what? Why don't you mind your own fucking business, Trevor?" Jujubee squinted her eyes at him. “Wow, little fiesty, Juju.” He continued, "How about this? We all say sorry, and we can both ride with us to school." 'Hell fucking no.' I thought. "Oh yeah? And what's the catch?" Jujubee raised a brow. "You let me feel your tits," Trevor smirked, his two cronies snickered. "Ah, there it is. I thought that was what your pea-sized brain would come up with." Jujubee nodded her head. "So, hey, Brianna," Trevor shifted his attention, "You're awfully quiet. Don't I at least get a hello?" I was still frozen, feeling my anxiety brewing within. "Dude, don't be so sensitive. You know, if she opens her mouth, she'll just drool all over herself." Logan added, the three axe wounds beginning to snicker again. I felt like I should have at least opened my mouth to prove them wrong, or maybe spit on Trevor's car. But still, I just stood there. "Trevor, if you don't fuck off right now, I'm gonna key your car." Jujubee threatened. "Juju." I tried to stop her. "Wouldn't even have the chance, sweetheart. Either of you bitches come near my car; you'll never walk the halls again." How gentleman-like, threatening two girls. Funny how our safety was the price to pay for a car. Oh, men. "Keep that in mind," Trevor concluded before driving away with dumb and dumber. "You didn't have to do that." I looked at Jujubee. "I'm sorry they're such assholes." She replied, taking my hand in hers. I shook it off, however. "No, I mean, I wish you wouldn't do that." Jujubee crossed her brows, "what? So I'm supposed to sit there and just take it? No fucking way." "I know. But," I paused, "they kinda scare me. You know?" "Brie, there's nothing more pathetic than a man sweating over the safety of his ride." She retook my hand, "Don't be afraid of a cunt like him." "I mean, I can try not to. But I can't make any promises." I shrugged. "Anyway, what's the plan? How are we supposed to get there on time?" Jujubee was silent for a moment before replying with, "my Mom?" Her Mom did end up giving us a ride, much to my dismay. I would have preferred to take the day off. Or better yet, to just fucking drop out altogether. But Jujubee was always there to reassure me - I adored that bitch. I would have fucking taken a bullet for her. I would like to say that it wasn't just Jujubee and me, that we had a group of more friends. But these guys, I never really counted them as friends. A year prior, we both decided to try and improve our social lives by joining a club. The only one that would accept us was the chess club. Every other member was a guy, and they were nerds. Not that Jujubee and I minded. However, the problem was that they only let us in because...well, do I even need to explain? "So, Brianna," Jimmy decided to approach me at the end of one session, licking his hand and sweeping his hair from his face. "Because I beat you twice today, what do I get?" "...Excuse me?" "My prize. What do I get??" He put an arm around my shoulders. I was puzzled, "Uh, you can have my chicken nuggets at lunch." His grin was beginning to disappear. "Oh, I was thinking of something else. A kiss, maybe?" I felt bad for doing it, but my fight or flight response told me to just run from the room. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but these guys were just on another level of thirst. And it wasn't just me who they flirted with. Jujubee had informed me of a time Arnold convinced her to make out with him. She was all for it until she realised how awful of a kisser he was. And as the boys became more desperate, we decided that we were better off alone. Again, I was so grateful for Jujubee. I was surprised she stuck around, considering she had seen me at my worst when we were still so young. How the fuck had she not developed

issues of her own? Jujubee was the number one reason I even found the strength to just get up in the morning, drag my ass to school, and do my work - Well, aside from wanting to get good grades so I could go to a good college. The second reason? Blair. Unlike me, she was thriving. Our lives were totally cliche - me being the kid who grew up to be the nerd who only speaks when it's to answer a question. And Blair, growing up to be the head cheerleader. And I was still very much in love with her. What a fucking cliche. I avoided Blair at all costs for several reasons;

differing social circles (in my case, lack of),

her boyfriend, who was the Captain of the soccer team and wasn't shy about giving me and Jujubee grief,

her friends,

and, of course, my massive crush on her.

So, why was Blair the second reason as to why I dragged myself to school? Her smile. That was enough. As much as I tried to avoid her, the world decided to do a big "fuck you" on me and sometimes put us into situations together. And every time, I'd be internally freaking out. The worst was when we were both 16. It was that time of the year when the school would invite someone to subject us to the most humiliating moment of our lives. How the fuck were you supposed to put a condom on a banana without bursting out laughing? How the fuck were you supposed to sit there and keep a straight face when the educator used words like 'flaps'? We filed into the class, Jujubee and me taking seats at the back of the room. We knew this was going to be hilarious, so best to avoid the attention of the teacher. "Juju, I know you are dying to make jokes during this, but I'm begging you. Please don't." I spoke quietly to her as other students filed in. "But you know I'm going to, right?" Jujubee smirked, putting her bag on the ground. "No. We wanna keep a low profile. If we laugh, we draw attention, and then we risk being singled out. You know? We'll be at the front of the class demonstrating whatever this bitch asks us." Obviously, I was referring to putting condoms on bananas and the like. Juju, however, raised a brow, "I wouldn't mind that, babe. Don't worry. We won't need to take our clothes off." I stared at her for a few seconds, unable to think of how to respond to that. Jujubee winked, and I forced myself to look away. "That's not what I meant." Blair strolled in with Denali and Rosé, already I could feel my stomach knotting. They went to sit together somewhere in the middle. "Ugh, nope. I don't think so, ladies." Ah, Miss Jaida Hall, if only I could have warned you not to say what you were about to say. Somehow Blair and the two others knew she was speaking to them. She continued, "This is an important class, and I'm not gonna have you all laughing and snickering during it." She had a point. The three girls usually whispered to each other in class, giggling about all sorts of shit. It was never anything malicious about the lesson or teachers, just inside jokes with each other, pretty harmless stuff. But it pissed the teachers off so much. "You can't be serious, right?" Denali replied, clearly scandalised. "Very serious, actually." Ms Hall nodded, "Denali, sit with Brian. Rosé, with Gigi. Blair, with Brianna." I grabbed Jujubee by the wrist, the pressure making her squeak. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. Blair was not rolling her eyes as she made her way to the back towards me. This was not fucking happening. As instructed, Jujubee stood up and let Blair sit down, moving to sit somewhere else. I was alone with the one person I tried my hardest to avoid. She slouched down in her chair, arms folded like she was already over it. I wanted so badly to ask if she was OK. But I couldn't bring myself to. And as the lights turned off and the sex-ed lady pressed play on the video player, I wished I had said something. As the way too enthusiastic narrator explained step by step the act of sexual intercourse, I tried hiding the blush on my face with my hair. I tried so hard to focus on what I was being taught. The truth was, I was still a virgin, as were many of the others in the room, I'm sure. But unlike them, I had no idea how sex worked. It wasn't something I ever gave time to think about. I felt a tapping on my hand. My body tensed as I glanced to the side. Blair was looking at the screen, then at me, then her fingers brushed against my hand. I stared back, unsure of what was happening but also knowing full well what she was doing. She leaned closer and pressed her lips on mine. … OK, that's not what happened. Life wasn't a movie. This was the beginning of the fantasies. Was I ashamed because I was thinking about Blair like that? Or was I ashamed that I enjoyed thinking of Blair like that? "This is ridiculous," Blair whispered. Was I supposed to say something back? "What do you mean?" I

whispered back. "Do they actually think we're that dumb? We all know how sex works. We don't need this stupid class." Blair rolled her eyes. I almost told her that I belonged to the small percentage that didn't know. But I stopped myself. I couldn't bear her knowing that information. Instead, I went with the awkward, "haha. Yeaaahhhh…" For the rest of the film, we sat in silence. Still trying to focus on the screen. Not the absolute stunner sitting next to me. And as if by magic, the video ended. I wanted to say I was relieved, but I couldn't lie; what I learned from the film left me nauseous. He puts his hoo-ha in her what, now?? "Well, that was really cool and hip, right?" The educator enthused. I cringed internally. No woman wearing a crucifix necklace and ankle-length skirt has the right to use words like 'cool' and 'hip'. "I know it's probably all so confusing. So that's why I'm here to answer any of your questions, dudes and dudettes." Already, one of the boys put a hand up. "Go ahead, homie." "What about the other hole?" He said with a straight face before his friends started laughing. He laughed back as he fired one of them. "You know. The back door?" Ms Hall shot him the 'look'. He was toast. The sex educator fixed her hair quite uncomfortable, "Well, there's a reason that is an out hole, young man. I warn all of you, do not go down that road. You will get aids and die. Now, does anybody else have a question?" The educator rambled, fixing her hair awkwardly. I heard the rustling of clothes beside me, and glancing around, Blair had her hand straight up in the air. "Yes, sweetheart?" Sex Ed lady pointed to her. "OK, so this is interesting and all, but I was just wondering, what about non-heterosexual sex?" Her brows knit for a moment. I looked around at her now. The breath caught in my throat. "I'm sorry?" Sex Ed lady asked. "You know. Man on man. Girl on girl. What about all of that?" Blair raised a brow. "I mean, you gotta know there's more than just heterosexual people out there. Maybe some even in this room right now." "Blair." Ms Hall began. "Because, if you disagree, then that's ridiculous. Oh, and if you think aids is some kind of death sentence, then you seriously need to educate yourself." Sex ed lady looked appalled, her Christian beliefs quite clearly threatened. "That's it. Get out." Ms Hall stood up. Blair huffed, pushing her seat back, lifted her bag and left the room, Ms Hall following behind. "OK. So, any other questions? Reasonable questions only, please." Jujubee was looking over her shoulder at me now, sharing the same expression I did. Thank God for lunch next period. Jujubee and I were hiding at the back of the school, in an alley between the building itself and the old workshops. The perfect hiding place for a smoke and to freak the fuck out about specific events. "Juju, she knows. She knows I'm a lesbian. She knows I like her." I paced. "I'm moving. That's it." I stopped. "But why would she speak up for me of all people? It doesn't make sense." My eyes widened. "Unless she's also a lesbian. I mean, that makes sense, right?" Jujubee had been sitting on the wall, patiently listening to my manic ramblings. The first few minutes, she was just as astounded. But the more I theorised, rambling on and on, she was over it. "I highly doubt that considering the boyfriend." "Then she must know. Why else would she say it? I highly doubt there are other gays in that class. Speaking of which, I had no idea lesbians could have sex like; how does that work. I'm gonna look into that somehow. But getting back to the point, if she did know, why would she speak out for me of all people?" My ramblings were non-stop. I tried my best to avoid Blair for the rest of the day, not that I could, considering we were both in the same last period. Blair's outburst was the talk of the school. I wasn't sure if it was a positive response or not. The only thing I did know was Trevor was pissed. "Brie, look." Jujubee tapped me. I turned from my locker and looked where everyone else seemed to be

looking. Just down the corridor, Trevor was standing over Blair, their conversation clearly heated. People were shamelessly moving closer, Jujubee following in their path. "Juju, don't," I whispered. But she didn't listen. I went after her as if it would stop her. "Trevor, this isn't that big of a deal," Blair said. "Not a big deal? Blair, do you know what the guys are saying? They think you're gonna dump me for a girl. Do you know how humiliating that is?" Trevor held a hand to his chest "And what if I did?" Blair challenged. The few people standing around cooed with excitement. "Oh, please. Don't get all cocky now that you have an audience." Trevor pointed. But Blair took a step closer to him. "What, 'cause you know you're the one who looks like an idiot? Maybe if you weren't so insecure, you'd know I would never do that to you." "Don't call me an idiot." Trevor lowered his tone, choosing purposely to ignore her reassurance. "Fine. But don't criticise me for a valid question I asked in a class you weren't even a part of. It's none of your business, no one's business for that matter." Blair bit back. "I can do what I want, Blair." "OK. Whatever." Blair brushed past him. Trevor quickly spun around, grabbing her arm. "No, we're not done having this conversation." My stomach twisted. "Let go of my arm, Trevor." Blair tugged, her voice cracking. Trevor did as was told now that the air was thick with tension, "We are not done talking," he stressed. Blair took a step back, "Yeah, we are, actually," and she turned to walk away. "If you walk away right now, we're finished." Trevor threatened. It was as if time was at a standstill, waiting for her reaction. But at the same time, it felt as though time was counting down. Like we were in a competition show. The contestant has to decide before time runs out, while the audience yells, 'DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!' No one was shouting, but you could feel everyone's excitement. Blair's lip curled upwards. "OK. Fine by me." And, finally, she walked off. The people were cooing with excitement again. "Shut up!" Trevor shouted. I grabbed Jujubee by the shoulder and ushered her back. Trevor kicked his locker, the thud echoing through the halls. That was the last straw. Knowing Trevor, he'd take his anger out on us. It was time to flee the scene. It was all Jujubee wanted to talk about for the rest of the day. Now I knew how she felt during my smoke break. But I couldn't blame her. The scene played in my head over and over again, leading to so many questions. Was there more to this breakup? Did he grab Blair like that all the time? What would happen now? Would she find a new guy? A girl, maybe? I came to the conclusion that Blair and Trevor's breakup was neither good nor bad. Bad because, as I said before, now he had more pent up anger from the humiliation of being so publicly dumped. Therefore, Jujubee and I would most likely be subject to more harassment. Good, because maybe Blair did like girls. Maybe there was still some little chance for us to be together. But if we were going to be together, there was one issue; I still had no fucking idea how lesbian sex worked. Cut to later that night, I'm in my room, sitting in front of my computer. I needed to distract myself from my thoughts of the breakup. While the scratchy dial-up tones emitted the machine, I psyched myself up. Even though I knew sex was normal to learn about at that age, it was still daunting. With shaky hands, I searched 'lesbian sex'. And fuck was it a mistake. What I wanted was educational articles, guides, etc. And what I got was porn. I watched all but a few minutes, all the painfully bad acting scenes that took place before the main event. Upon hearing the first moan, I clicked out as fast as I could. Looking behind me, Piggie was just playing with a stuffed animal on my bed. "You saw that, right?" He looked at me with perked ears. I still felt judged, so I opened my bedroom door and let him out. I needed to be exact. 'How do lesbians have sex?' And Brianna Caldwell was never the

same. My mind was opened that night. This was no mistake. This was a surprise. I couldn't look away from the computer screen, no matter how slow the Internet connection was. All of this information was all too much but not enough at the same time. And it made me feel less nauseated than I felt after watching that stupid video in class. And I built up the courage to go back to that porn site. And I watched every damn second. Then I watched another one. And another. And just one more 'cause why the fuck not? My bedroom door opened. "Brianna, I'm ordering - -" "Get out," I shouted, closing the site down like my life depended on it. But she stood there for a few seconds, eyes wide and hand still on the door frame. "Honey, are you - -" "Mom, oh my god. Can you just - -" I couldn't even form a proper sentence. She gave an apologetic look and closed the door. But she remained on the other side. "I just wanted you to know that I'm ordering pizza for Grandpa and me. Do you want some?" My forehead was in my hand now. "Yes." "What kind?" "Just…" I wanted to shout, "Pepperoni." And with that, she left. But that wasn't the end of it. When the food arrived, I waited a few minutes before going downstairs to grab a few slices. Grandpa was in the living room watching an old rerun of The A-Team. But she was there, in the kitchen, as if she was waiting for me. "Honey, look. I know you're getting to that age where you're curious about certain things and - -" "Mom, no. Please, don't do this." I whined. "I know. I know. I just wanted to let you know that this is natural, and…" she continued to deliver the same talk we all got in class. My eyes were wide, face red with humiliation. -_-_-_- 2020 I picked up a slice of pepperoni pizza, instantly reminded of the traumatic event. OK, maybe that was too strong of a word to use. But of course, you are going to dread the thought of that time your parent talked to you about sex. I walked into the living room, pizza slice in hand, trying not to dwell on the memory. "So, Brianna. Any update on the love life?" Tamisha asked. I loved that bitch; being one of Mom's closest friends, she was present for most of my life. But she always had a tendency to ask questions I wasn't up for answering. I took a bite from my pizza and answered with a full mouth, "dry." "Girl, you're almost 40." She continued. I was ready to challenge her because I was actually just 33 when Mom took her turn to speak. "Yeah, get yourself a man and make me a Grandma already." She wasn't serious. She knew I hated these types of talks, but that didn't stop her from encouraging the others. The funny thing about the time she caught me watching porn, she never clocked it was girl on girl. Of all the years I've been on this planet, I hadn't given her a clue that I was a lesbian. Would I ever tell her? I didn't see the point. From previous failed relationships and being too busy with my job, I wouldn't end up with someone anyway. But of course, I'd make an exception for a certain someone. Monét poured the first round of shots. I already knew I'd hate myself the next day. I wasn't drunk already. Just sort of buzzed. But that changed within an hour. I was hammered. Mom, Monét and all her friends were singing all the old songs in the living room. I was out in the kitchen, trying to drink 8 glasses of water. I only managed 3. Piggie ran in and put his paws up on my knee. "There he is. My baby. My fucking son." I slid down to the ground and let him sit in my lap. "How is your night going?" Just great, Brianna! Anyway, how about that Blair girl, huh? Piggie's non-existent voice said. "Oh yeah," my eyes narrowed. I unlocked my phone and opened up Facebook. And I bravely searched up her name. I say bravely because it does take some balls to go and stalk your crushes social media accounts. All it took to fuck everything up was the slip of a finger, and before you know it, you've liked a post or sent a friend request. "Let's do some digging, Piggie." I cuddled him. Immediately, she was the top result, with Jujubee

being the only mutual friend. "Yeah, girl. Infiltration." I commented as I clicked into her profile. And then her profile picture. "Holy shit." She hadn't aged. She still looked as young and radiant as she did back in high school. "What do you think, Piggie?" I showed him the screen. He glanced at it before tucking his head under his arms. The enthusiasm. I rolled my eyes. I looked at her info. 'Single'. Promising. Scrolling down to her timeline, I noticed she didn't post a lot. Fair enough. Facebook was becoming a dead site in recent years. There were just your average Facebook posts, sharing giveaway posts, a post from an old lady saying, 'Blair, this is Granny. Could you go to Walmart and get me some applesauce? Love granny xx', a shared post from a guy called George Miller. And my finger stopped scrolling upon seeing Blair holding a baby. "Oh God, we've encountered our first obstacle, Piggie," I whined. I clicked into the comments. That George Miller guy commented, 'congrats, Blair!' She replied, 'thank you, but she's my cousin's lol'. "Thank you, Jesus." I put my phone down for a moment to put my hand up to the good lord. I scrolled some more, seeing many inspirational quotes, a link to Adore You by Harry Styles. And a picture of her. With that George Miller guy. With his arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her temple. I could feel my heart sink the more I studied it. Yeah, I knew Blair and I were never meant to be anyway. But it was still upsetting. Relax. They could be friends. Yeah, that's right. Friends hold each other and act all affectionate, right?? I cuddle with Jujubee sometimes. That doesn't mean anything. Right? I needed evidence, just anything, to make it not true. I scrolled some more. There was a video, she was sitting on her sofa, with a girl playing the guitar sitting on the other end. "I've been running races on empty, Pour it up 'cause my cup so empty. Gotta make time for the real me. I've been running, I've been running on empty." And my nerves were settled again. I had only heard Blair sing a few times. She and her friends would pretend they were famous singers in early elementary years, and she'd always be the best. Then another time was in high school, at the winter talent show. I specifically remember it being A moment like this by Kelly Clarkson. It was unreal. 'Jujubee 💋💅🏽 is typing…' I clicked into Snapchat before she even had a chance to type the whole message. "Do you remember Jujubee?" I asked Piggie. Again, he was silent. 'I hope you're having fun, babe ❤ lv u'. "Thanks," was all I could manage to type. A shadow cast over me. I looked up to see Monét join me on the ground. "Hey, girl." She greeted me. "Hi, Aunt Monét." I smiled. Piggie hopped off my lap and onto hers. "Aunt Monét? Honey, you haven't called me that since middle school." She smiled. I returned the smile, only mine probably looking goofy. "I'm just wasted." "I noticed. No more shots for you anyway." She noted, taking a drink from her own bottle. "Anyway, how's the project?" "We got fucking Ed Sheeran involved." I then cursed myself internally for bringing it up. "I heard. Your Mom was telling me. Ugh, girl, why him? Why not someone like…" she paused to think, "like Beyonce. Or Lady Gaga." "OK, man-hater." I quipped, reaching over to pet Piggie. "Not true. Not all men are bad." Monét pointed out. "Speaking of which, when are you getting yourself one?" I could have given her the usual 'I don't have time for men's talk. But the alcohol said no. "Monét, I like girls." And I felt no shame in saying it. A moment of silence fell between us before she asked, "for real?" "Yeah." I nodded. "Does anyone else know?" "Yeah. Juju. And Piggie probably." I replied, leaving one more name out for the sole purpose I didn't want to get into that. "And Mom?" "Nope." She nodded. "I guess this is one of these aunty-niece confidentiality things?" "Uh-huh." I smiled. Bless Aunt Monét. "Well, no matter who you live, we still love you." She laughed for a moment before taking another drink. I knew

she was right. Maybe coming out to Mom wasn't such a bad idea. "You know what, Brianna?" She paused, "Grandpa would be so proud of you, right?" My smile slowly began to drop. Fuck, the touchy subject. "Oh, I...thanks." I thought the change in my mood was hard to miss, but Monét clearly had. "You and I ain't ever talked about him since...you know." "OK," I said quietly, feeling like my chest was a fist, beginning to clench tighter and tighter. "And sometimes, it's just good to look back on - -" "I gotta go." I quickly stood up, feeling the dark fog already come over me. I rushed from the room, my aunty calling my name and apologising. I avoided going into the living room, rushing up the stairs and racing for the bathroom. As soon as the door was locked, I let myself crumble, my face hidden beneath shaking hands, a cry clogged in my throat just begging to belt out. Mom would definitely hear it. I wasn't going to ruin her day. Absolutely not. Tags: rpdr fanfiction // s10 // as5 // miz cracker // jujubee // blair st clair // blair x cracker // denali foxx // rose // fluff // coming of age // hurt/comfort // lesbian au // highschool au // grinder // tw grief // tw homophobia [Cover image here] AN: Hey, guys! I hope yall are enjoying this fic so far! Throw me a like please if you do. TW for this chapter: Grief // Homophobia [read more] 2003 High School. The bane of my existence. Just as I thought elementary and middle school were terrible, High School really was something else. From my childhood therapy sessions, I learned to conceal my anger, avoid freakouts, and channel my emotions into other things. It was good for me, yeah. But it also made me a more reserved person. Things still made me angry, the other kids at school being a primary key to that. But I never defended myself. Ever. Of course, Jujubee always had my back. Only in later years did I learn to appreciate the times she'd yell at the other kids, telling them to fuck off and whatnot. But back then, I wished she hadn't. It only drew more negative attention. All I wanted was to get through those tough years. I would come home a lot, look at pictures of myself as a child. And I'd be so mad because only then did I see that I wasn't an ugly kid. I was adorable. But, God clearly had favourites 'cause puberty did not do me any favours. If only I had grown up in a more modern time when no one gave a shit about looks. When people were outspoken about the cruelty that came with shaming someone for their looks. When people were more aware of the psychological damage that could do. Again, God had favourites. From years of my eyesight getting worse and needing a new pair of glasses every time I went to the eye doctor, I had thick-rimmed frames that made me look straight out of the 70s. And the lenses made my eyes look huge. I looked like Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys. My hair was bigger but full of split ends due to lack of giving a shit about it. I begged Mom to let me bleach it blonde. She always straight up refused. I had braces for a whole year which, yeah, many people had braces, but one time while answering a question in class, I drooled. And no one let me hear the end of it. And makeup wasn't something I really fucked with. I tried it once, safe and sound in my own bedroom, and it looked woeful. Instead of working to get better, I accepted defeat in that I would always be ugly. "I'm serious, girl. The foundation was so bad. And it was too dark." I ranted to Jujubee as we headed to the bus stop. I was trying to smoke my cigarette as fast as I could before getting there. Mom never knew, and what she didn't know couldn't kill her. Of course, I didn't just go into the store and buy them myself. Instead, I took one a day from my Grandpa's supply. "Girl, you gotta test it first." She pointed out, adjusting her bag straps. "Juju, I got the lightest colour they had. I don't fucking get it. Every other girl in the school uses it. Maybelline shouldn't sell this shit." "You just need to find a different brand." She grabbed my shoulder and pulled me

closer, "OK, don't tell my Mom, but I tried some of her MAC shit the other day, and my skin looked fucking flawless." She let me go, took my cigarette from me, taking a toke herself. "Well, how am I supposed to get my hands on that?" I took the cig back. "I don't see any MAC stores around here." "Oh, yeah? Well, you know what your Other World self would do?" Jujubee's brow raised, a sweet grin appearing on her mischievous face. "She would say fuck school, hop on the next bus to Cleveland and go straight to the MAC store." Blowing out some smoke, I looked at her, "Well, Other World you wouldn't be encouraging that sort of behaviour." "No, she wouldn't 'cause she'd be the first on the bus." Jujubee countered. "And she'd start the sing-song." "Yeah, well other world me would out-sing you 'cause she's a star. She's a fucking diva, bitch. Mariah Carey has nothing on her." We were too caught up in our fantasy world; we almost missed the vehicle driving past us. Only when we saw the cackling faces of the boys at the back of the bus did realisation take over. We were going to miss the bus. "Fuck." I uttered, watching the guys still flipping us off as they moved further and further away. To make matters worse, a car pulled up beside us. And of fucking course, it was Trevor Preston, the Captain of the football team. His two sidekicks were in the back seat, Logan and Noah. "Aw, look, guys. The geeks just missed the bus." Trevor fake whined. In these situations, I just shut down. I thought it was for the best at the time, but fuck, if I could go back and punch that guy. "You know what? Why don't you mind your own fucking business, Trevor?" Jujubee squinted her eyes at him. “Wow, little fiesty, Juju.” He continued, "How about this? We all say sorry, and we can both ride with us to school." 'Hell fucking no.' I thought. "Oh yeah? And what's the catch?" Jujubee raised a brow. "You let me feel your tits," Trevor smirked, his two cronies snickered. "Ah, there it is. I thought that was what your pea-sized brain would come up with." Jujubee nodded her head. "So, hey, Brianna," Trevor shifted his attention, "You're awfully quiet. Don't I at least get a hello?" I was still frozen, feeling my anxiety brewing within. "Dude, don't be so sensitive. You know, if she opens her mouth, she'll just drool all over herself." Logan added, the three axe wounds beginning to snicker again. I felt like I should have at least opened my mouth to prove them wrong, or maybe spit on Trevor's car. But still, I just stood there. "Trevor, if you don't fuck off right now, I'm gonna key your car." Jujubee threatened. "Juju." I tried to stop her. "Wouldn't even have the chance, sweetheart. Either of you bitches come near my car; you'll never walk the halls again." How gentleman-like, threatening two girls. Funny how our safety was the price to pay for a car. Oh, men. "Keep that in mind," Trevor concluded before driving away with dumb and dumber. "You didn't have to do that." I looked at Jujubee. "I'm sorry they're such assholes." She replied, taking my hand in hers. I shook it off, however. "No, I mean, I wish you wouldn't do that." Jujubee crossed her brows, "what? So I'm supposed to sit there and just take it? No fucking way." "I know. But," I paused, "they kinda scare me. You know?" "Brie, there's nothing more pathetic than a man sweating over the safety of his ride." She retook my hand, "Don't be afraid of a cunt like him." "I mean, I can try not to. But I can't make any promises." I shrugged. "Anyway, what's the plan? How are we supposed to get there on time?" Jujubee was silent for a moment before replying with, "my Mom?" Her Mom did end up giving us a ride, much to my dismay. I would have preferred to take the day off. Or better yet, to just fucking drop out altogether. But Jujubee was always there to reassure me - I adored that bitch. I would have fucking taken a bullet for her. I would like to say that it wasn't just Jujubee and me, that we had a group of more friends. But these guys, I never really counted them as

friends. A year prior, we both decided to try and improve our social lives by joining a club. The only one that would accept us was the chess club. Every other member was a guy, and they were nerds. Not that Jujubee and I minded. However, the problem was that they only let us in because...well, do I even need to explain? "So, Brianna," Jimmy decided to approach me at the end of one session, licking his hand and sweeping his hair from his face. "Because I beat you twice today, what do I get?" "...Excuse me?" "My prize. What do I get??" He put an arm around my shoulders. I was puzzled, "Uh, you can have my chicken nuggets at lunch." His grin was beginning to disappear. "Oh, I was thinking of something else. A kiss, maybe?" I felt bad for doing it, but my fight or flight response told me to just run from the room. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but these guys were just on another level of thirst. And it wasn't just me who they flirted with. Jujubee had informed me of a time Arnold convinced her to make out with him. She was all for it until she realised how awful of a kisser he was. And as the boys became more desperate, we decided that we were better off alone. Again, I was so grateful for Jujubee. I was surprised she stuck around, considering she had seen me at my worst when we were still so young. How the fuck had she not developed issues of her own? Jujubee was the number one reason I even found the strength to just get up in the morning, drag my ass to school, and do my work - Well, aside from wanting to get good grades so I could go to a good college. The second reason? Blair. Unlike me, she was thriving. Our lives were totally cliche - me being the kid who grew up to be the nerd who only speaks when it's to answer a question. And Blair, growing up to be the head cheerleader. And I was still very much in love with her. What a fucking cliche. I avoided Blair at all costs for several reasons;

differing social circles (in my case, lack of),

her boyfriend, who was the Captain of the soccer team and wasn't shy about giving me and Jujubee grief,

her friends,

and, of course, my massive crush on her.

#rpdr fanfiction #s10 #as5 #miz cracker #jujubee #blair st clair #blair x cracker #denali foxx #rosé #fluff #coming of age #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #high school au #angst #gimme love #grinder #tw grief #tw homophobia

6 notes · View notes

chipper9906 · 4 years ago

Text

Bound To You - Chapter 11: Always Happy To Bleed For The Winchesters

< - - - Previous Chapter

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 15

NOTE: Pairings and Ratings Will Change As Story Is Updated

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 7,338

Overall Word Count: 84,673

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (11/?)

Chapter Preview:

The smug, knowing look that crossed Claire’s face was not one Dean was expecting at his stuttered answer (if it can even be called an answer), the young woman turning to Kaia with a roll of her eyes and a good-natured slap to the arm. “See, what did I tell you? Knew he’d do it eventually…”

“Uh… do what?” Dean asks.

“Oh, not much,” Claire says with a grin much too sly for Dean’s liking. “Me and Kaia just had a bet going on which one of you would confess to the other first. I bet Cas would do it first. Kaia bet you’d do it first, but I said you were way too emotionally constipated to manage something like that.”

“You just cost me ten bucks…” Kaia mumbled in Dean’s direction.

Link To Fic

Click Below To Keep Reading

Character Key For Telepathic Conversations

'Italic Text' - Castiel

'Bold Text' - Dean

The second time Dean rides as a passenger in the Impala since… the incident… is different from the first time. That car ride home was nothing less than awkward, of stale silences and anxious side glances from his brother.

This time? Dean has a smile on his face. The mood is light, the silence replaced with soft rock blasting from the cassette player, of airy laughs from Eileen whenever he taps her shoulder from the backseat and tries to sign the lyrics to a song he’s taken a particular liking to, and Sam’s grunts of telling him to knock it off and stop distracting him; even when he’s got a smile on his face, too.

To put it simply… the hope is palpable. They’re celebrating like they’ve already got Cas back. Like they’ve already won.

Dean tries his best not to let his nerves at that show.

“You really should have let me call Jody ahead and let her know,” Sam throws at Dean over his shoulder as the sign for ‘Sioux Falls’ flashes by them.

“You telling me you’re not looking forward to seeing the look on their faces when they see me like this? And find out that Cas is chilling up here with me?” Dean retorts.

“But did you have to knock my phone out of my hands?” Sam complains, turning the Impala towards the exit ramp of the highway. “Concrete floors aren’t great for fragile glass screens, you know.”

“Your nerdy ass loves any chance to tinker with toys. I gave you a reason to replace your screen. You’re welcome.”

‘Considering you two live off of scammed credit cards, you’re very care-free with your expensive electronics.’

‘Thanks to Charlie, we don’t have to worry about that kind of stuff anymore. Nothing better than scamming credit card companies, Cas. Bastards do all they can to bleed people dry.’

‘If you say so. Perhaps you’d see it differently if you were actually earning a wage.’

‘Oh God, I forgot you didn’t properly get to ‘meet’ the us from the other world… They got paid to hunt monsters, and you know what? I’d rather live off credit card fraud and be myself than be… whatever the hell they were… assholes had their own damn plane…’

‘Are you saying you wouldn’t want your own plane?’

‘Don’t like flying Cas. Prefer to keep my feet on the ground, thank you very much.’

‘You don’t like flying?’

‘Hell no. Trapped in a stuffy metal tube with hundreds of other people, babies crying throughout the whole damn flight, eating overpriced and stale snacks? Oh, and the fact that I’m not in control of the plane whatsoever? And even if I was - if something were to go wrong? Not much you can do but hope you go quick.’

‘Oh. I suppose it’s different for me. I love… um, I loved flying. Plus there’s the fact that we as angels were designed for flying whereas you… were not.’

‘Yeah… and you have a few billion years’ experience over me with flying. Probably as natural to you as walking.’

‘Hmm… I suppose that’s where angels and humans are different. Our ability of flight… it’s part of who we are. A major part of what makes up our true form is our wings. The ability to travel the entire globe, even to anywhere within the Universe if we so pleased – in the span of a second? I’ll admit, it was something I took for granted.’

‘You still miss your wings, huh? I mean, I know you still have them, but…’

‘But they’re broken. It’s okay Dean, you can say it. And, yes, I still miss them. I always will. But it gets easier. You adapt to these things. You learn… there’s more important things.’

‘Yeah… that’s… that’s some words to live by, Cas. Kind of wish I could have seen your wings. I mean, I know you did the whole shadow puppet thing when we first met to show off – and don’t deny that wasn’t what you were doing; I got that smug face of yours seared into my brain. Hell, not even just your wings. I wish I could have been one of those ‘special people’ who get to see your true form.’

‘You… you do?’

‘Course I do, Cas. Sure, I think of you and I see Jimmy’s face, and… well, Jimmy’s face and his body are you now, in a way, but… I don’t know, you’ve seen both my physical form and my soul, and then… I’ve never been able to see the real face of the angel I’ve fallen for.’

‘I don’t think you’d truly want to see me… an angel's true form is… ‘unsettling’, to say the least.’

‘Cas, I don’t care if you’re really ‘the size of the Chrysler building’ and have multiple animal heads like Zacharia did. You’re Cas. You could be in Jimmy’s body, in some random dude's body, your true form, whatever. It doesn’t matter to me. So long as I know it’s you in there? I’ll love whatever is staring back at me.’

‘…what if I was possessing Sam?’

‘Not only did you ruin the moment, but you made it super weird. I’m kinda impressed.’

“What are you two gossiping about now?” Sam’s amused voice brought Dean back into the present, realizing with a startle that they were already pulling into Jody’s driveway.

“Eh, nothing much. Cas just wanted to know If I’d still bone him while he was possessing you.”

“What?!” Sam spluttered, slamming on the brakes a little harder than he intended.

‘That’s not what I meant!’

“That’s messed up, Cas!” Sam turned wide-eyed to face Dean, his startled and disgusted look boring straight through to Cas. “I hope you told him no, Dean!”

‘Technically, you haven’t said no-.’

‘NO, Cas! I would still love you, but that is a line I am not willing to cross.’

“What the hell is happening?” Eileen had her arms braced against Baby’s dash, not at all expecting the rather sudden stop.

“You don’t want to know,” Sam signed towards Eileen, giving Dean one last offended look before switching off the Impala’s engine.

Sam and Eileen had only just transferred Dean from the Impala into his wheelchair when the front door to the Mill’s home swung open, an already welcoming smile plastered on Jody’s face as she took in the sight of Sam and Eileen.

“I thought I heard the Impala’s obnoxiously loud engine,” Jody joked, leaving the front door open a crack as she steps out into the driveway. “Where’s-,”

Jody’s face dropped as Sam shifted to the side, catching sight of an oddly cheerful-looking Dean Winchester sat within a wheelchair. She hadn’t meant for her mouth to drop open the way that it did, or for her mind to fully expect for Dean to jump straight out of the wheelchair and all three of them to burst into laughter at her reaction in what would be some sick prank. But he doesn’t. Instead, he wheels closer to her, the cheerful smile on his face wavering as the seconds tick by.

“Okay Sammy, maybe you were right… Probably should have warned her…”

“What is…” Is all Jody can get out at first, clearing her throat and shaking her head at the ridiculousness of the situation. “What happened?”

“Now that is one hell of a story…” Dean says with a half-hearted laugh. “And it ties into the reason we’re here.”

“I did want to tell you first, but Dean decided he wanted to be an asshole about it,” Sam offers, giving Jody an awkward wave. “Oh, and… this is Eileen.’

“Hello…” Eileen greeted the sheriff with a wave that was somehow even more awkward than Sam’s.

“Right… well, um… you should probably come in…” Jody says, glancing back to the front door. “I’m guessing you’re not just here to catch up?”

“Afraid not. We, uh… we actually need to speak to Claire, too.” Sam said.

Jody frowned at that, crossing her arms across her chest as she stared them down. Typically, when the Winchesters needed to speak to you, it was either because you were in trouble, or they were about to get you into trouble. “…What for?”

“It’s probably best Claire joins us first. Just so we can get the whole story out in one go.” Sam tells her.

“You’re telling me that the reason Dean is… you know… ties into you needing Claire?”

“Sounds weird, but yeah,” Dean says.

Jody can only sigh at that, uncrossing her arms and waving at them to follow as she turns back towards the Mill’s family home.

“You boys do like to test me…”

* * *

Dean had never felt so out of place. Sam and Eileen were sat comfortably on the couch in the living room whilst he was sort of just… off to the side in his wheelchair. Yeah, he could have sat on the couch if he wanted to, but a) he’d rather not be squashed up against Sam and Eileen, and b) …he’s too lazy to move back and forth from the wheelchair.

Plus, even though he feels bad for how distraught Jody looked at the sight of him, he still kinda wanted to see Claire’s reaction.

Sam’s right, he is an asshole…

Speak of the devil, those bounding ‘taking two steps at a time’ footsteps stomping down the stairs could only be those of teenage angst, two other pairs of footfalls following just behind, though much calmer than the ones of the blonde-haired girl that appears in the doorframe leading to the living room.

“Sup dorks-,”

It seemed that Claire is taking after Jody more and more every time that Dean sees her, considering the fact that her expression is pretty much identical to Jody’s, her eyes drawn to Dean sticking out like a sore thumb in the room.

“I know,” Dean says as seriously as he can. “I just get more handsome the older I get, don’t I?”

Claire was so frozen in place that Kaia, who had been following just behind, nearly ran into the back of her. Kaia’s eyes widened upon seeing them, partly hidden by Claire with a hand hanging onto Claire’s sleeve as what could ever be a comforting gesture for Claire, or an attempt to ground herself.

“Oh my God…”

“Nope, we took care of him,” Dean joked.

“Jack took care of him,” Sam corrected him. “We got our asses handed to us.”

“Whatever.”

“Come on then,” Jody’s voice booms from the bottom of the staircases, striding into the living room and brushing past Claire and Kaia as she went. “Apparently, we’ve got a story to hear.”

Claire finally snapped herself out of her frozen trance, taking a few timid steps into the living room with Kaia following close behind as usual. “How bad is it?” She asked Dean, unable to tear her eyes from his limp legs.

“I can’t walk so, you know, not great. Still got my arms and the use of little Dean though, so-,”

“Let’s not get too detailed,” Jody cuts him off, holding out a hand to stop him with a grimace. “Did you… did you break your back?”

“More like shattered. But, uh… probably best we go from the beginning, like Sam said.”

“Wait…” Claire stopped Dean before he could start, her eyes darting between all three of them. “Where’s Castiel? And no offense, but uh… who’s this chick?”

“Claire!” Jody scolded her surrogate daughter. “It's not a crime to remember manners every once in a while, you know.”

“I’m Eileen,” Eileen answered, the off-rhythm tone of her voice getting Claire to raise her eyebrows in recognition.

“Oh! Are you, um… hard of hearing?”

“Lost all my hearing as a baby to a banshee,” Eileen answers. “I can read lips, though.”

“A banshee? Does that mean you’re a hunter, too?” Kaia piped up, starting to shift away from her hiding space behind Claire.

“Born and raised, pretty much,” Eileen answers.

“We met Eileen a few years go on a banshee hunt – the same banshee, actually,” Sam adds. “She, uh…”

“I was killed by a Hellhound set on me by the British Men of Letters,” Eileen finishes the sentence Sam struggled to say.

“Oh…” Claire is just about able to get out, staring bug-eyed at the female hunter in front of her. “And now you’re…?”

“Don’t worry, she’s alive. And human,” Dean reassured them. “Sam went all witch-mode and brought her back.”

“You… Sam, you did what?” Jody spluttered in her mom voice.

The power of ‘the mom voice’ had Sam instinctively cowering in submission. “The spell was mostly completed already…”

“Okay…” Claire butt in before Jody could scold Sam for dabbling in witchcraft. “So… where’s Jack and Cas? Could they not make it…?”

“Technically… they’re both here, in a way,” Dean says with a grin.

Sam sends yet another classic bitch face his way. “Dean-,”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop being cryptic,” Dean mutters in defeat. “So… you remember when Jack got sick? After he died… Cas found him in Heaven. Along with the Empty… Cas decided to be a dumbass and make a deal without telling us. Jack came back and… Cas’s life was exchanged for it.”

The grief-stricken look that passed across Claire’s face had Dean scrambling to continue. “He’s not dead! Not right now, anyway. He, uh… he sacrificed himself for me. Death was coming for us – and I’m talking the literal Death here – and Cas used his deal with the Empty against her.”

“Wait, I’m confused-,” Jody interrupted Dean’s story. “What exactly was the deal Castiel made?”

“He took Jack’s place in the Empty. Except, the Empty decided it wanted to be a dick about it. It would only take Cas once he ‘experienced a moment of true happiness’, so…”

“So… Cas forced himself to experience a moment of true happiness to… save you?” Claire asked. “How does that work?”

“The Empty… kinda had a grudge against Death. When Cas summoned the Empty to us, the Empty took Death along with Cas.”

“Oh… and, um… the moment of true happiness? What was that?”

Dean’s words froze in his throat, reluctant to leave his lips. There was something about the fact that he was saying it to Claire… the daughter of the guy his angel wears… he could only hope she didn’t find it too weird…

“Well… uh… he…”

“Uh… do what?” Dean asks.

“You just cost me ten bucks…” Kaia mumbled in Dean’s direction.

“Excuse me-,”

“The only way I could see you making the first move would be to kiss Cas at some random ass time, panic that you did it, and then run away,” Claire told him, counting the events on her fingers.

“I…” Damn, she was probably right… “Uh… you knew?”

Claire scoffed at that, feeling comfortable enough to walk further into the room and drop down into the armchair opposite, leaning back against the cushioned pillow with her arms crossed. “Please. I don’t have many memories of my dad, but I remember the way he would look at my mom. Cas has the same damn look when he looks at you.”

‘Well… it IS his face…’

‘Yeah, and that probably freaks her out a little so… maybe not mention that?’

“Hey, me and Eileen had a bet going too!” Sam says jovially, the amused smile on his face slipping away as he caught sight of Dean’s fiery glare. “Sorry…”

“Alright, alright, everyone knew me and Cas had a thing for each other before either of us did. We got it…” Dean grumbles, copying the moody teenager opposite by crossing his arms, glaring at the concealed smiles of the others in the room.

Claire perks up as she picks out something Dean had just said. “Uh… did you just say we?”

‘Time to shine, Cas…’

Jody, Claire, and Kaia startle at the piercing blue light that overtakes Dean’s eyes, unsettled by the unnaturally blank and tense posture that comes over Dean. Three pairs of frantic eyes shift over to Sam and Eileen, only relaxing marginally when they see the two aren’t phased by what was happening.

The blue slowly fades away as Dean slumps back into his chair, shaking his head and blinking sluggishly as the disorientation of possession switching clings to him. He raises his eyes up, settling on Claire with a light smile that was oddly familiar to the teenager, yet looked so foreign on Dean…

“Hello, Claire.”

She didn’t know how, but she knew straight away. Perhaps it was the strained, constipated sounding way he spoke, or his voice dropping deeper (which she thought was impossible already), or the way Dean’s eyes had lost that playful and joking edge they usually held with her, replaced with a much softer and more… more fatherlike look.

“Castiel? Is that… is that you?”

“It is for now, yes,” Castiel answers. “Dean and I… we are currently sharing possession of his body. To repeat Dean’s earlier words, Dean decided to ‘be a dumbass’-,”

‘How dare you-,’

“-during a hunt and got himself injured.”

“Like… ‘shattering your spine’ injured?”

“More than that,” Sam says darkly, gritting his teeth against the harsh memory of that night. “It was a pack of Vamps that had been around for a while. And when I say a while, I mean our Dad once tried hunting them. One of them managed to get ahold of Dean and it… it shoved Dean into a rebar.”

“The rebar pierced through his back and into his chest,” Cas embellished, the others grimacing at the image. “It punctured his heart, along with a lung. And, as you can imagine, it did some devastating damage to his spine. Fortunately… Dean made the decision to pray to me. Dean saved me from the Empty, and in return, I saved his life. But… my grace is running low. I used a majority of it healing Dean’s wounds, but it wasn’t enough-,”

“I thought your grace recharged itself?” Claire asks.

“It does, usually. I’m not entirely sure the reason for it, though I believe it may be connected to Heaven’s weakened power… Either way, it’s still not replenishing itself. In fact… it’s doing the opposite.”

“You’re running out of your grace?” Claire leans forward as she says this, her brow pinched in worry. “What does that mean for you? Will you…”

“I could die. Or I may live in Dean’s body, forcing him out and killing him.”

“Oh… And, um… what happened to… to my dad’s body?”

Castiel frowned at the way Claire’s voice seemed to shrink on itself as she asks him this, for a moment seeing the frightened little girl that stood in the doorframe, asking for her daddy as an alien being takes him away from her forever.

“That’s the reason we’re here, Claire,” Castiel tells her. “I know I’ve taken so much from you already. And now… I have to ask more of you again.”

Claire shuffled uncomfortably under Castiel’s intense and sorrowful gaze. Kaia is by her side within seconds, hovering near the armchair as she senses Claire’s clear discomfort. “Is this going to be dangerous?” Kaia asks on Claire’s behalf.

“No, it shouldn’t be,” Cas answered, unable to see Sam looking uneasily at him in a quick side-glance. “I am asking you… for your permission; your permission to use your father’s body once more as my own. We believe it might be the only way to keep me alive, as transferring me to another vessel may just use up the last of my grace, but seeing as I already had your father’s permission…”

“Right…” Claire mutters, clearing her throat and dragging her line of sight back up to face Dea- no, Castiel. “I’m not going to lie to you Castiel, it’ll always be kind of weird for me. But… I know Dad’s up there with mom, and that they’re happy, and… asides from my actual dad, you’re the closest thing I have to one, so… If this means I don’t have to lose you too, then yeah. You have my permission.”

Claire stubbornly fights back the burning tears in her eyes at the watery smile Castiel gives her, always taken aback to see the once stoic and hard-ass angel showing such raw emotion.

“Thank you, Claire. There’s… one more thing I need to ask of you.”

“Actually-,” Sam interrupts, much to Cas’ surprise. “There might be two things…”

Both Eileen and Cas frown up at him, racking their brains to try and remember the extra ingredient that they apparently needed from Claire.

“We found a spell that might be able to re-create your dad’s body without needing his soul,” Sam begins to explain to Claire, ignoring Eileen and Cas’s inquisitive stares. “One of the ingredients requires a vial of blood from a relative of the vessel. And… you’re the only surviving relative that we know of.”

“That… seems easy…” Claire says, suspicious at how simple this was all sounding.

“That one should be no problem, but uh…” Sam sighs, switching his gaze over to Castiel. “Listen Cas, I didn’t want to bring this up back at the bunker because I kind of had a feeling you’d shoot it down before I could even ask Claire.”

“…Sam…. What are you talking about?” Castiel asked, already dreading the answer.

Sam sighs deeply once again, tearing his gaze away from Cas and back to Claire. “Thing is, we need to use Cas’ grace for the spell. Problem with that is that there’s not much for us to use, and… we don’t really know what could happen if we don’t use enough. The last time this spell was used, the spell caster used pretty much all of the angel’s grace. I’m guessing we need all the grace we can get, and um… I was thinking about it, and… you see, the thing about possession is that the angel typically leaves a piece of their grace behind inside the previous vessel. And, if I remember right… Cas once possessed you.”

“No,” Castiel said sternly, the harshness in his tone making everyone in the room startle at the reminder of the powerful angel in their presence. Castiel knew what Sam was getting at. He knew what this was leading to.

“It’s worth a shot, Cas,” Sam argued, not backing down from Castiel’s ticked off glare. He holds Castiel’s gaze for a few moments before breaking it, turning back to Claire as he continues. “There was a time when I was possessed myself by an angel. We were able to use a, uh… kind of like a big needle to extract the grace from me-,”

“And it nearly killed you!” Castiel spat out. “We might not even need that much of my grace for the spell. Sam, it is not worth the risk-,”

“We don’t know that. And we won’t go all the way, Cas,” Sam assured him before turning desperate eyes back to Claire. “We won’t, Claire. I promise we won't. We managed to extract some grace from me without killing me. It won't extract all of Cas’s grace, but… that extra bit of grace from you could be the difference between this experiment failing, or saving Cas’s life. It’s all up to you, okay? If you don’t want to do this, we won’t force you into it.”

Nearly everyone in the room looked uneasy at Sam’s plan. Hell, even Sam didn’t look like he liked his own suggestion, but mostly… it was a look of desperation, of understanding, patiently waiting when you’re on the edge of your seat waiting for the answer. Claire got to take this all in, along with Dean’s – or Cas’s, she supposed – conflicted grimace, unable to meet her eyes.

“What about this makes it dangerous?” Jody’s voice broke the tension. “You mentioned a needle?”

Sam nodded his head, reaching down to the duffel bag by his feet and unzipping it. All eyes in the room focused on him as he rummaged through the bag, their faces paling at the imposing metal syringe Sam held in his hands.

“The Grace has to be extracted from the neck…” Sam tells them, his own face twisting into a grimace at the reminder of his own experience. “That’s what made it dangerous. To get all the grace… you need to push the needle in further and further. But we’re not going to do that, okay?”

Sam placed the syringe to the side, picking up on how Claire was unable to tear her gaze away from the menacing instrument. “Cas can monitor you the whole time, right Cas? We’ll keep to a safe level, extracting what we can.”

Claire nodded her head, just barely noticeable, her eyes drifting across the room as she sits, lost in thought. “And… doing this… it’ll help you?” Claire directed the question at Castiel, her eyes briefly flickering up to meet Dean’s.

“I… I suppose so, yes,” Castiel begrudgingly admitted. “Every piece of my grace would help, but Claire-,”

“Then I’ll do it.”

Castiel’s mouth swung shut at her answer, taken aback by the assured confidence in her voice.

Kaia looked to Claire, torn between wanting to say what was on her mind, but also wanting to respect her decision. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Claire insisted with a soft smile at the girl behind her. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Cas is looking out for me.”

‘Huh… you know, you and Claire have the same smile. I mean, I know it’s Jimmy’s smile, but… you smile at me like that, too.’

“I can’t say I’m feeling all that jazzed about this decision,” Jody says. “But… I also know it’s not mine to make. Just… be careful. Please.”

“I’ll intervene before even the slightest bit of harm could be inflicted,” Castiel assured Jody in that sincere grovel of his that the Winchesters know mean he’s ready to sacrifice himself if it comes to it. “I give you my word.”

“Okay, let’s just…” Claire tried not to shudder at the thought of what that needle would feel like in her neck… “Let’s get this over with…”

* * *

Claire was able to hold back a wince as the marginally smaller needle slid out from the crook of her elbow, barely even able to get a glimpse of the puncture wound it left behind before Jody was swabbing at it with the gauze from the first aid kit.

She did get a glimpse of the small glass vial filled with a dark crimson liquid that was once running through her veins, now held in Sam’s hands. He carefully screwed the lid back on the top, avoiding spilling any of what was – technically – a precious ingredient to them now.

“Never liked getting blood tests taken…” Claire mumbled, rolling her eyes at the brightly colored care-bears band-aid that Kaia stuck over her arm.

“Better than having to slice your palm open a few thousand times for spells,” Sam said, handing the vial over to Eileen for safe storage. “Makes handling weapons a pain for a few weeks…”

“Maybe you guys should just keep bags of your blood around or something for that,” Claire joked from the couch. “With how often you guys get injured, it would probably be useful.”

‘Doubt a bag of blood would have fixed my heart, but it’s the thought that counts.’

The joking smile on Claire’s face disappeared the second the ridiculously big syringe was back in Sam’s hands, the sight of that long and sharp needle sending chills up her spine.

A small smile of sympathy hitched at Sam’s lips at the clear apprehension on Claire’s face. He takes the few steps over to the couch where Claire was sat, followed closely behind by Cas as he wheels himself next to Claire.

“You might want to lie down for this,” Castiel tells her. “The procedure is… unpleasant.”

Claire swallowed nervously at his warning, shifting around on the couch until her head was resting against the mountain of pillows that Jody had quickly built for her, placing trembling hands across her stomach as she waits for something that’s going to be – well, ‘unpleasant.’

Her eyelids flutter shut at the comforting touch of Castiel’s hand on her forehead, able to feel the gentle hum of Castiel’s grace just beyond the skin of his hand. It was weird to think that it was searching through her body, taking account of her pulse, her rate of breathing, the smallest sign that something was amiss.

“Are you ready?” Sam’s voice filters through her thoughts. Keeping her eyes firmly shut, she nods her head. She didn’t want to see the needle again. She especially didn’t want to see it going in her neck…

‘Unpleasant’ was not the right word, she very quickly decided. In fact, ‘unpleasant’ was pretty damn far from the word she would use to describe the burning pain that takes over every other sensation in her body. ‘Unpleasant’ was a word used for heartburn, or when you scrape your knee falling off your bike as a kid.

She finds her hands digging into the couch underneath her, gripping onto the soft material in a vice-like grip. She has no doubt that Jody isn’t going to appreciate the gouge marks she makes in the expensive leather with her nails, but that’s a problem for future Claire. Right now, present Claire has to focus on remembering how to breathe, on keeping the scream that wants to burst out from her lungs settled in place, on easing pressure in her jaw as she clenches her teeth in case she ends up biting her tongue.

The needle slides in further and, somehow, the pain gets worse. She didn’t think it could, but oh boy, was she wrong. It’s a damn miracle she’s able to bite back the scream, but even her tightly clenched eyelids were unable to stop the few tears that squeezed their way out. There’s a hand brushing through her hair – likely Jody’s – and another hand gripping onto hers almost as tightly as the other is burrowing into the couch – one she knows for sure is Kaia’s. She almost can’t feel them, but… they’re distractions. They take away from the pain in just the slightest, but quite frankly, she’ll take as much as she can get.

“That’s enough.”

Dean’s voice had never been so relieving to hear, even if it was in that freaky deep voice that sounded like Dean trying – and failing- to mimic Castiel’s. You wouldn’t think the feeling of a needle slipping out of your throat would feel good, but anything was better than the agonizing pain she had just been going through.

“There. It’s over.” Sam’s relieved voice finally gets her to pry her eyes open. The sight of the wispy, cloud-like blue gas shifting around within the syringe is almost mesmerizing to see. That grace was inside her – still inside her, in fact – and she had no idea. She can never feel it, it’s just… there.

Seeing five heads peering down at her was rather jarring, even if she knew they were doing it out of worry for her. “Jeez, could you guys back up a bit? I promise I’m not dying…”

“Technically, she’s telling the truth,” Castiel said, his hand slipping away from her head. “I can’t sense any permanent damage done. You might feel somewhat weak for a few hours, possibly a day, but you should recover fairly quickly.”

“How are you feeling?” Jody asks, the worry in her eyes remaining despite Castiel’s diagnosis. She offers a hand to Claire, who gladly takes it, allowing herself to be pulled up into a sitting position.

“About as well as you can after having a needle in your neck…”

‘I think she takes after me more than you, Cas.’

‘You passing on your sarcastic deflections is not something to be proud of, Dean…’

‘Hell yeah it is. Being honest is for losers.’

‘Huh…. For so long, I worried that Jack was going to take after Lucifer… I should have been more worried he’d take after you.’

‘Damn. Don’t get me wrong, that was a great burn, but also… screw you.’

‘Actually, I was waiting for you to do that.’

‘Ha, that’s… Wait, wha-,’

“This spell of yours better work after all that…” Claire tells Sam, getting one last look at the vial of Castiel’s grace before it joins the other vial of her blood that’s tucked away inside Sam’s duffel.

“Thanks to you, it just might,” Sam responds with a grateful smile.

A flash of blue pulls Claire’s gaze away from Sam, glancing over to see the last second of Castiel before being greeted by eyes she knows belongs to Dean Winchester. She can only grunt in surprise when Dean’s arms are wrapping around her back, yanking her towards in a rather clumsy and awkward hug.

“That’s from both of us,” Dean says quietly in her ear, his arms tightening around her side.

Claire chuckled at the unusual softness Dean was displaying, along with the fact that Dean was very nearly dragging her off the couch with his hug. “You went back into the bad place to get Kaia back, so… only fair I did what I could to get Cas back to you.”

Another laugh bubbled out as she felt the heartfelt hug turn into more of a tense hold, patting Dean’s arm in sympathy at what she knew was going to be an awkward question from Dean once he pulled away from the hug.

“Uh, actually, about that… Me and Cas were kinda wondering…”

“Just try and reduce the number of times you two suck faces around me once you get Cas back,” Claire tells him, much to Dean’s – and Cas’s – horror. “It’s gonna take me a while to not see it as you kissing my dad…”

“I’m not too sure what I just walked into, but it sounds like a juicy topic.”

The new voice in the room gets everyone to jump, those with weapons tucked away pulling them out in a smooth practiced motion, training them on the unexpected newcomer. Sam’s eyes widen over his pistol’s iron sight, lowering the gun instinctively once his brain registers that the woman smirking over at them was someone he knew.

“Rowena?” Sam splutters in surprise, gesturing for Jody to lower her own gun – which she did somewhat reluctantly. “How did you-,”

“Just a heads up deary, your devil's trap has been damaged. Think you might have some little micey’s nibbling away at your floorboard.” Rowena tells Jody with a sweet smile and an equally sweet-sounding voice.

“Who the hell are you?” Jody asks, pistol still held firmly in hand.

“Rowena. As Samuel over there just stated.”

Jody’s eyes narrow at the stranger in her living room. Sam’s judgment was the only reason she had her gun pointed to the floor, and not at this fiery woman. “Okay, I’ll be more specific; what are you?”

“Centuries-old witch. Freshly created damned soul. Demon. The Queen of Hell.” Rowena’s impressively fake friendly smile only widens at the discomfort that washes over Jody with every new title she provides. “Take your pick.”

“Sam...” Jody takes a step back from Rowena, instinctively moving closer to where Claire and Kaia were – nearly bumping into Castiel in the process.

“What are you doing here, Rowena?” Sam asks her, sensing the need to defuse the situation before Jody starts shooting.

“What I said I would do,” Rowena answers, sauntering over the armchair Claire was occupying not long ago and dropping into it like it was her own home. “Imagine my surprise when my demons pick up on an angel's grace on Earth that’s not occupying a vessel. I sent some of my men to investigate and… what do you know, they report back to me that the Winchester’s are involved. I could only assume this is a part of your little plan to save the angel?”

“I have a name,” Castiel grumbles from his spot by the couch, mostly blocking Claire and Kaia from view.

“Oh! I suppose that means Dean’s been placed in the timeout corner for the time being?”

‘…the timeout corner…?’

“If you’re asking me if Dean is currently the one not in possession, then yes.”

“Uh, I’m sorry, you guys are friends with a witch?” Claire leans away from Castiel to try and get a better look at the witch that was currently sitting in her favorite chair.

“Ah, well, you know the saying,” Rowena mused out loud, leaning back against the comfortable pillows of the armchair. “Keep your friends close…”

“Yeah… and I’m guessing you’re a powerful enemy to have?” Claire asks.

“Good instincts, that one,” Rowena notes to Jody.

“You still haven’t explained why you’re here,” Eileen interrupts, bringing Rowena’s attention over to her. “You were able to sense Castiel’s grace and… then what?”

“As I said, I can only assume this is a part of your plan to bring back Castiel here. I did say I’d help, didn’t I?”

“You? Are willing to help them?” Jody asks incredulously.

“Aye. It’s only fair I help them after they got me killed.”

“Um… you say that like you wanted to be killed?” Kaia asks.

“Oh no, not in the moment, heaven’s no. But it turned out that dying was the best thing that ever happened to me. No mother should outlive her child, but… it’s only right that I should take over my son’s throne, isn’t it?”

“Your son? Your son was the former king of-,” Jody stops as her brain makes the connection, looking between Rowena and Sam in disbelief. “Crowley? Crowley was your son?”

“You’re acquainted, I presume?”

Jody huffs out a laugh at that. “If you call trying to kill me on the first date ‘acquainted’, then yeah.”

“Ah, that sounds like my son… Both the ‘killing’ part and the ‘trying’… poor boy had so many ambitions, just always failed to reach them…”

“Are you saying your son ‘trying to kill me’ is an ambition-?!”

“Alright, alright, let's -,” Sam quickly jumped between the two ladies to defuse the tension, sensing an argument that could only end poorly. “Yes, we found something. One of the Men of Letter’s – our grandfather, actually – managed to create a spell with the help of a witch back then, uh… Anikka Whitmore?”

“Ah, Anikka…” Rowena drawls out the witch’s name, shaking her head in what Sam could only assume was fake pity. “Shame what happened to the poor girl… She just needed to help people… had a soft spot, you see… Every witch worth her money knows that helping the needy just attracts unwanted attention. She found that out far too late, I’m afraid…”

“Yeah, we… we found the pictures…” Sam says with a wince. “Actually, I have the spell on me right now…”

Sam hurriedly searched through his jacket pockets, pulling out the little folded square of delicate paper and rushing over to Rowena to hand it over. Rowena took the paper with careful hands, long nails unfolding the old paper before taking in the written spell.

“Hmm… Ah, that makes sense… perhaps a bit risky using angel's grace, but… the human blood should help to temper the grace’s volatile power…”

“Does it… does it seem like it will work?” Eileen asks, unable to stop herself from worrying over the fragile paper crumbling away in the witch’s hands.

“I don’t see why not, considering it says here that the experiment was ‘technically’ a success… just not in the way this poor lad was expecting…” Rowena tells them, handing the spell back over to Sam – much to Eileen’s relief. “Except…”

‘Ah, dammit. Of course there’s an ‘except’. Another ‘but’, or ‘however’. Always something… ’

“I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, boys. But I have to say it. The amount of grace is… it’s a problem. The grace is essentially the power of this spell. It’s… it’s almost like the glue that puts the body back together. Creates new atoms, replicating DNA from the blood, then binds it all together. And since you said Castiel doesn’t have much of his grace left…”

Rowena’s sentence drifts off at the sight of Dean’s eyes flaring blue, watching as Castiel fades away behind green eyes. Those blank, unoccupied eyes quickly shift to ones of worry, of impending doom as Dean Winchester once again takes control of his body. “It’s not going to work…?”

“I’m not saying that,” Rowena said gently, keeping her gaze focused on Dean alone despite the four other pairs of eyes staring at her. “It’s hard to know for sure when I have never performed the spell myself – as well as it only being done once. There’s every chance this could work with the grace you have, but…”

“Don’t sugar coat it for me,” Dean insisted, his voice coming out weaker than he intended. “We need to know the risks.”

“If it’s not enough… the spell will break apart mid-way through. The body will begin to disintegrate back to nothing as the grace burns away, and once it's empty? That will be it. Castiel will be gone.”

“Is there anything you can do?” Dean asks. Though, ‘pleads’ would probably be a more apt word… “Something that can boost the spell?”

“There’s nothing I can do myself, no. The spell is simple enough, able to be cast by whoever. I’m afraid it won’t matter who casts it, as the power of the spell all comes down to one ingredient: the grace.”

“What about using another angel's grace, or-?”

Rowena stops Dean's blabbers with a shake of her head. “It has to be the grace of the angel that possessed the vessel. Unless another angel possessed the vessel?”

“Uh… that would be Lucifer…” Sam mumbled uncomfortably.

“Ah. Probably best not to go down that route…”

“So… how likely is it that… that this isn’t going to work?” Dean asks Rowena. “What’s the chance that…”

‘That I’m going to lose him,’ Dean thinks the words his mouth can’t voice.

“There's a chance,” Rowena's answer doesn’t make him feel any better. “But you want my honest opinion? Make sure you say all you need to before the spell. Don’t leave regrets.”

Rowena stood up from the armchair, feeling an unusual pang of sympathy in her chest at the crushed look on the elder Winchester’s face. “If you do make it back to the land of the living, Castiel? I expect an invitation to the wedding.”

And with that, Rowena was gone as quickly as she had come, leaving behind a room of uneasy stillness. Perhaps, in another world, Dean would roll his eyes at Rowena’s parting comment. He'd brush off whatever snarky comment Sam would add, perhaps even make a joke of his own, pretending he wasn’t picturing what that would be like; a private wedding, most likely, small and familiar, just the people he cares about most.

He doesn’t want to picture that in this world, though. Maybe even just a few hours ago, he’d let himself delve into such dangerous indulgences, of things he never thought he'd have. Hell, things he didn’t even know he wanted.

Now, though… what was the use of imagining such things, when in a few weeks he might just be falling asleep clutching the trench coat of who was once the husband in those dreams?

Next Chapter - - - >

#destiel fanfiction #Destiel #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #destiel fixit #destiel fix it fic #fix it fic #castiel/dean winchester #castiel/dean #casdean #supernatural spoilers #season 15 spoilers #angst #fluff

7 notes · View notes