#illinois x female!reader
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love-quinn · 6 months ago
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—PEACE OF MIND
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summary — when carmen finds out that you're putting yourself in danger to come in to your waitressing job at the bear, he admittedly gets pissed. he's not super proud of his reaction, but the two of you manage to work something out to ease his worries.
warnings — swearing, mentions of customers being assholes, the implication that if reader isn't being fed at the restaurant she doesn't eat due to money reasons, very brief mentions/implications of the possibility of reader being attacked at night
pairing — carmen berzatto x fem!waitress reader, not established relationship
pronouns — she/her, reader is HEAVILY implied to be female, also there's technically no pronouns in this one but i consider this to be the same waitress reader as my last one which does have pronouns
word count — 1.9k
note — this can 10000% be read as a standalone but i do have another carmy x waitress fic here that i think takes place kinda in the same universe if you wanna check that one out?? i hope u enjoy <333
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If you were somebody who wasn’t a fan of the cold, then Chicago wasn’t the city for you. It’s one of your least favourite parts of living in Illinois, having to wear four layers to bed if you don't want to freeze in your sleep. Your apartment doesn’t have proper heating because proper heating is for rich people, apparently. You barely make enough to afford rent as it is. 
You’re doing fine. You make rent and utilities, you eat lunch and dinner at the restaurant most days. You’re not swimming in gold coins by no means, but you’re fine. That’s the reason you show up early to every single shift, if you’re being honest, you’re guaranteed at least a sandwich. 
The fact that it makes you look like a dedicated employee doesn’t hurt either.
Even when you have to trek from the train platform after getting off the L. You’re not the first person punching in the code to the service entrance that afternoon, but the kitchen is free of yelling. Sydney’s at the end of the line, it’s her shift for Family, and she flashes you a smile as you shove your duffel into your locker.
It’s not raining outside but the air is so cold and damp outside, and you dab your face with a towel. The kitchen is so much warmer than outside that for a moment it’s uncomfortable. Sydney watches you out of the corner of her eye as she sautes a collection of vegetables. “Are you alright? Is it wet out there?”
You shake your head, grabbing your apron and using the mirror you hung up on the back of your door to fix your appearance. “Just cold, sorry. I’ll be fine. You get in okay?”
Sydney nods, holding out a spoon for you, hand cupped to prevent anything from landing on the floor. You don’t question it, opening your mouth and accepting the sauce while trying to minimise the contact between your mouth and the spoon as much as possible. “Fuck, that’s good. Is there sesame oil in there?”
You didn’t know a whole lot about food if you were honest, there’s a reason that you’re not a member of the kitchen staff. But Sydney’s been teaching you slowly but surely how to recognise different flavours, which ones go best together, which ones don’t.
Her eyes light up. “Yes! You like it?”
You shut your locker, moving to stand right behind her. Your chin lands on her shoulder, watching the way she rotates her medley of ingredients. You and Sydney have started becoming actual friends rather than just work friends, the two of you went out to dinner last Sunday, miraculously neither of you had to work. “Love it, need any help?”
“No, you’re all good. Go find Richie, I’m sure he needs help with whatever shit he’s doing.”
You leave her alone with a squeeze on the elbow, heading out into the dining room to find Richie. Richie isn’t out there but you do find Carmen pulling the chairs off the tables. You don’t bother talking, you and Carmen both appreciate the quiet in a workplace as loud as the restaurant. The second you put the first chair down Carmen is flinching. “You’re early,” he says, trying not to show his irritation.
He’d left the kitchen to feel productive while being alone, but he doesn’t want to yell at you. You deal with that enough. Yelling in the kitchen is natural, it’s fucking loud in there. If he doesn’t yell, he doesn’t get heard. People aren’t moving fast enough, people aren’t using proper technique, they’re running out of ingredients, things are being moved. If Carmen didn’t yell in the kitchen it would probably burn down somehow.
You deal with all that and you have to keep a smile on your face. You get yelled at for mistakes that other people make, and you never yell back. You take it all and yeah, sometimes you need to step out into the kitchen with tears in your eyes, but you cop it all and you go back out there.
You don’t need Carmy yelling at you as well.
You shrug casually, smoothing the tablecloth. “I am a slave to the public transit system.” It’s less embarrassing than admitting you’re trying to save money by eating at work whenever you can. 
Carmen stops at that. He doesn’t know why that’s surprising to him. He’s always here before you and he’s always here after you leave. He assumed he’d never seen your car in the parking lot because of that, but apparently, it’s because you don’t have one. “You took the train here?”
It’s early afternoon and people are turning their headlights on already. The closest train station is a fair walk away and it’s freezing out there. 
You nod, not taking much notice of the change in tone. “Yeah, I usually do.”
Carmen’s abandoned the table he’s dressing to turn around and look at you. It’s almost completely dark outside, it’s the middle of winter. “You walk to work?”
You look up at him. “Yeah, Carm.” You’re really hoping he’ll drop it, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on the way you avoid looking at him. 
“That’s so fucking dumb,” he doesn’t mean to snap, but the mood in the room is frozen now. “It’s like two degrees out there, why the fuck would you do that?” You regret coming out to help him. Usually, this stuff is already done by the time you show up to work, early as usual. 
You put down the last chair at the table you’re working on and brush off your apron. “It’s not like I have any other choice, Carmen,” you’re trying to keep your voice even. The dining room is empty, it’s still, and it feels much more awkward than having the conversation anywhere else would’ve felt. “I don’t really have many other options.” 
You look around the dining room and decide that leaving Carmen to finish setup isn’t an awful fate. 
“Yes, you do!” He doesn’t drop it. His fists are clenched at his side to stop him from flinging his arms up in frustration. “You have so many other options! Why did you pick the fucking stupid one?” You can handle being yelled at. It’s a part of the job. It happens to you every single day without fail. You can handle it.
That doesn’t mean that you have to take it from Carmen, though.
“Stop it,” you don’t raise your voice at him, but you’re not quiet either.
“I just don’t fucking get it,” he huffs. Once he’s started he can’t make himself stop. 
You sigh, loudly. “Yeah, I’m not asking you to, Carmen. Okay, but don’t treat me like garbage because I can’t afford a car.”
That’s the final straw in the conversation with him, and you turn to go back into the kitchen. Maybe Richie will be playing Angry Birds on his phone in the office and he’ll let you watch. Carmen’s frown deepens. “What the fuck are you talking about? Who gives a shit that you can’t afford a car?” He dodges the table he was working on and rushes to follow you. He’s a lot less graceful than you always are with it and that’s without the tray of drinks. “Do you see that shit out there?” He stands in front of you now, pointing a heavy, tattooed arm out at the front window. “It’s fucking Chicago. You can’t be walking here in twenty fucking degrees, honey! Do you not get that? Look at you! If someone pulls a knife on you out there what the fuck are you gonna do?”
You’re frozen in front of him now. He’s throwing so much at you that you don’t know what to say. 
He’s going back to setting up now, but as he turns he blows out a breath. “Get that through your fucking head, yeah?”
That’s the part that frustrates you the most. He does this all the time, he presents you with ten different problems and no solutions. You don’t need Carmen to tell you how to live your life when you’re struggling as it is. “How else do you want me to get to work? It’s either that or you find a new fucking waitress, okay? So can we let it go? What the fuck do you want me to do about it, Carmen? ”
Carmen doesn’t want to let it go. You take the train in the fucking pouring rain and walk every night only to be yelled at by a bunch of assholes over steak. 
“I want you to not walk through Chicago in the middle of the night!” He’s exasperated. “Yesterday you left after eleven, do you know how fucking dangerous that is? Fucking… Fuck?” It comes out as a question. “Why the fuck have you been leaving me here at night to go walk home alone? What the fuck do you think I’m here for?”
You’re getting upset by the yelling, and now that he’s said everything he needs to say he can see that he’s making you visibly panicked. “I don’t know what you want from me!” You let out finally, words exhaling from your chest with force. “Just tell me what you want or stop fucking yelling at me!”
He says your name quietly, letting out a frustrated huff. “Fucking- Okay. Okay.” He runs a hand through his hair and has to bend at the waist, leaning on the table you just fixed up, head buried in his arms. He takes a quick three second breather, trying to force down the ugly bubble of anger that’s rising familiarly to the surface, ready to spill out of his mouth. “If we are at the restaurant together and it’s the middle of the night, and I have a car…” he pauses, trying to give you time to follow along after previously overwhelming you. “... and you don’t.” You blink over at him. “Why the fuck would you not ask me to drive you home?”
“Because you’re my boss?” The answer comes easily, and it almost startles him how quickly you respond. “What? Why are you asking me this?”
Carmen knows, deep down, that he wouldn’t offer the same courtesy to Marcus or Fak or god forbid Richie. Sydney or Tina? If they asked, sure. But he would never stand in front of them in the dining room to yell at them for not asking. He likes to think it’s because he knows you’re different. You don’t yell back, you don’t antagonise him, you don’t push like they do. You handle it, and you’re gentle and you’re soft and for some fucking reason the idea of anything happening to you makes him feel like he has just been mugged in the street. 
“Just,” he waves a hand in front of his face. He can hear Sydney calling out, probably something important knowing her. “Please, honey, promise me that you’ll let me at least drive you to the fucking train station? Okay? For my own peace of mind. How far away from the station do you live?”
You tell him and he’s immediately groaning. “No, alright. I’m driving you home.” He sounds frustrated, not mad at you, but less than pleased. You don’t take it to heart. “Now please, go back inside the kitchen and fucking eat something, you’re giving me an irregular heartbeat.”
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myownwholewildworld · 2 months ago
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11. NO MATTER WHAT?
chapter 10 | main masterlist | ao3 | series masterlist | chapter 12 pairing: post-outbreak!joel x f!reader. summary: in your pursuit to find tommy, you find out something else. a/n: hello there! c: eeeeeek we are getting close to the endgame here! i finally sat down and wrote down small summaries for the next chapters so i could have a better idea of how many there were actually left - a total of 15 plus an epilogue. so this story will be drawing to a close soonish but in the meantime, please enjoy this rollercoaster :D all interactions welcome, i'd like to read your thoughts on this! take care <3 x warnings below the cut! please beware, they contain MAJOR spoilers so read them at your own peril. don't come at me please. dividers by @saradika-graphics w/c: ~7.8k. taglist aka the drama wagon at the end of the chapter (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!)
warnings: 18+, mdni. some smutty smut. masturbation (m and f receiving). unprotected piv. sprinkles of anxiety, anguish and angst here and there. unplanned pregnancy. tempers run a bit high. sarah is in joel's mind. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 37. no use of y/n.  joel’s and reader’s pov.
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“How are you feeling?”
Joel’s voice brought you back to reality, along with a slam of the driver’s door. Your mind had been drifting away, almost falling into a slumber, for the past thirty minutes. You had not even realised that the car had stopped until Joel closed the door behind him.
Your elbow was propped against the window frame, your face buried in the crook of it. Slowly you blinked with a pitiful groan, straightening out your crouched back. For the past month, sleep had been evading you. Funny that, considering how fucking tired you were. And the more tired you were, the more difficult it was to fall asleep. Your bones ached, your joints hurt, your mind was fuzzy ― you felt terrible overall. Many mornings you felt sick too, which did not help. On a few occasions you had woken Joel up with your retching ― and every time, he stayed awake with you, not even once did he complain.
The dreadful pain would vanish gradually over the course of the day and would worsen at night again. The clicker’s bite on your forearm had almost healed, but there were some tiny parts of it that were still open and oozed from time to time ― it didn’t matter how hard you both tried to keep it clean. Fits of itchiness would overcome you and Joel had to pin your wrists against his chest so you would not make the gash worse.
The first week after you were marked, you had actually been doing alright. The thrill of the moment and the adrenaline rushing through your veins as you crossed Illinois were, most probably, what had kept you standing on your feet.
And now that the imminent feeling of death had faded, Chicago well behind you, your body was begging you for a fucking break. But there were no breaks in the apocalypse.
“Darlin’?”, Joel placed his hand on your left thigh.
“Tired.” You sighed heavily as you rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands. “I can’t sleep.”
“I know, sweetheart.” He lightly squeezed your thigh between his fingers, and you finally looked at him, a weak smile smoothing out your lips. “We’ll find a proper place to stay tonight.”
“Where are we?”, you asked, looking through the passenger’s window.
You had stopped in the middle of a road. A sea of green surrounded you ― a dense wood of pine and oak englobed the asphalt. And then, further afield on your left, you could see blue and sandy brown in between the trees. There was a mist coming off the water and blurring the atmosphere, giving the whole scene a mystic, eerie feeling.
“Lake Ontario, just circumvented Buffalo. I saw the gas station and thought to give it a go”, he explained, pointing with his thumb through the driver’s window.
Then you saw the service station he was referring to.
“Any luck?” You hovered your hand over his on your thigh and intertwined your fingers. His warmth was comforting in the bare coldness of January.
“Surprisingly yes. I was able to siphon out around four gallons from one of them pumps. I’ve just put it all in our tank. Should be more than enough to get to Oswego, even with detours.” Even though Joel’s voice was calm, you could tell he was preoccupied.
You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes meeting yours. He was doing so much for you, and basically all on his own. He drove you out of Chicago while the whole city got swamped by hordes of clickers. For the first week after that day, you both took turns to drive and keep watch at night, but when your body finally gave in, you completely relied on him.
He hadn’t told you out loud, but you could see the worry darkening his chocolate eyes with greyish circles underneath. You knew he was concerned about your health, about the car and gas, about the food, about the safety of being back in the wilderness. Joel was taking good care of you ― you had been so blinded by your own battles that you had not even expressed your gratitude.
“I’m sorry I’m not much help. Thank you for―”
“Don’t even mention it.” He cut you off instantly, pulling from your laced hands so your cheek would land on his chest. “You’re sick, honey. It’s the least I can do.”
Joel’s balmy lips pressed against your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting his warmth seep into your cold bones, softening your taut muscles. You looked up at him with your mouth agape and Joel bowed down to brush your lips with his ― a chaste kiss in a rare moment of peace and quiet.
“I’ll drive to Pembroke and find a house ― we’ll spend the night there and resume the trip in the late morning or early afternoon, depending on how you’re feeling. Sounds good?”
You nodded, burrowing your cheek in his padded jacket. You both stayed still for a couple more minutes before Joel, with a heavy sigh, pulled back to introduce the key in the ignition and start the car.
For the last three weeks, you both had been reassessing your options. Chicago had been an idyllic dream for a short while, but congregating so many people in a small space seemed to have been a siren’s call for the clickers. After much debating, Joel and you had decided to stay away from civilisation.
It had also taken you as long to convince Joel to find Tommy. It was more than obvious that the brothers were not on good terms, considering how the younger one had threatened to kill you the moment he found out you had been bit. You couldn’t blame him for it, as you were sure you would have reacted the same way.
But Joel was not so inclined to forgive his brother. Tommy had made him choose between you and him, told him to get rid of you, even when he had tried to tell the younger Miller what his true feelings for you were. And despite it all, Tommy had ditched you both. But especially Joel, when he needed family the most ― when the dire situation required Tommy to step up, he had stepped down. With that you did not agree, obviously, although you could somewhat understand Tommy’s actions.
After long, dragging talks, Joel had agreed to look for Tommy. The group he was with was not the most convenient if their behaviour in Chicago was to be taken into account. The drugs, the alcohol, the late nights ― they could not afford such way of life out there, not without the safety net of a whole town. Tommy was the only family Joel, and by extension you, had left ― despite it all, family protected family.
Somewhere in Lake Ontario was the safest bet to find him. Laney would listen to Tommy, and if Joel was right, he would pick the same town the older Miller would: Oswego, especially in winter. That was where the Miller brothers and their father would go ice fishing on their weekend trips, so both of them were acquainted with the land.
The purring sound of the engine smothered your thoughts until that was all you could hear. Your eyelids felt heavy, dry even, so you unknowingly let them close with a deep sigh before you were lost to your dreams.
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“Darlin’,” Joel stroked your hair, his fingers curling on your chin. “We’re here.”
Slowly you blinked, coming out of your sleepy stupor. Joel was standing outside the passenger’s door, the cold breeze bursting into the cabin. You had dozed off so hard, you had not even heard him leaving the car and opening your door.
“Can you walk? I can carry you.” He asked, no shade of doubt in his words.
Imagining Joel carrying you through a doorframe as if you were newlyweds made you smile. Maybe in a different lifetime or in a parallel universe could you have that destiny. Not in this one, sadly.
“I’m fine walking.”
Joel’s eyes met yours, a slight tilt to his head indicating he did not get why you were smiling. You waved your hand as if to say, “don’t worry about it”, and tried to step out of the car, but his frame was blocking your exit.
You cocked an inquisitive brow.
“What? You don’t think I can?” The challenge in his voice was there, ready for you to pick on it.
You laughed it off as you stirred in your seat, your legs dangling off the car seat now in between his legs. Joel didn’t budge one inch.
“I know you can. You’ve proved it a few times now.” You hoped that would ease him.
Joel grunted and you knew he was considering proving it to you once more. But you didn’t give him the chance to do so, standing up so close to him your body slammed into his. A strong arm wrapped around your waist to prevent you from falling back on to the car seat.
His welcoming mouth was so near hovering over yours, your mind just went poof for a second. Joel’s imposing presence always clouded your judgment, especially when he was this close to you. He made all your neuron synapses go haywire, even more when you were tired and achy.
“And you won’t let me show you again, I take it?” He whispered, his lips intently moving against yours with every word, your lungs taking in his sweet breath as if his oxygen was the only one that could truly feed them.
You were barely able to shake your head no. And then some neurons finally connected, allowing you to place a hand on his hard chest to push him back a bit with a sufficient grin.
“You won’t bewitch me so easily, Miller.”
He cackled, taking a step back and shaking his head with disbelief.
“You hurt my feelings, darlin’.” He faked some puppy eyes that made you swoon a little, but didn’t give in.
“I sure do…” You muttered, the shared joke letting you forget your fatigue.
Getting out of the car, the piercing January breeze knifed your skin. You were not accustomed to the northern cold ― Texas had treated you well with fairly mild winters but scorching hot summers. There had been instances where the Texan weather reached freezing temperatures, but it was not as common as up here.
You walked around the Jeep with Joel by your side, his arm draped around your shoulders to keep you close to his body heat. He had parked the car in between some tall, thick, evergreen bushes, tucked away out of sight. He then pointed to a house ― single storey, with a washed green façade and a tiny porch with a white door.
A couple of minutes later, you were inside. It was still cold, but not as bad as it was out there. The living room was small and outdated with clashing hues of brown, red and orange. The curtains were drawn, and it smelt a bit musky, layers of dust sitting atop the furniture. You were not expecting a five-star hotel, so this place would definitely do. It was isolated and off the main roads, so there would be less chances of running into some undesirable situations. Or people ― especially people.
You braced yourself to keep your core temperature as high as possible, and Joel noticed it.
“There’s a chimney but can’t get a fire going. It would give us away.” You could hear the unspoken apology in his tone. “But I’ve left a pile of blankets there.”
Joel pointed to the old-fashioned, floral-stamped couch that reminded you of one in your grandparents’ house. The quilts were bunched together, and all of your packed belongings were sitting on the floor ― you guessed Joel had taken everything out of the car while you had a little power nap.
As you approached and ran your fingers through the fleece to test the softness of the fabric, Joel grabbed one and wrapped you in it like a burrito.
“Do you have your gun?” He asked, lifting your chin up.
You nodded ― you always had it fastened to your belt. Since Chicago, you made sure you were armed at all times.
“Good. I need you to stay here while I go have a snoop around town.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
You squinted your eyes with dissent, and then took off the blanket that he had covered you with to leave it on the couch.
“Not gonna happen, gorgeous. I’m coming with you.” Not because you were afraid of being left alone, but because you did not trust this world you lived in. If something was about to happen while he was out and about, you wanted to be right by his side.
He rolled his eyes at you but knew better than fighting you on this.
“So stubborn, aren’t you?”
“You wouldn’t love me any other way.” You replied with a beaming smile, lacing a hand with his and pulling him towards the door.
Joel snorted, a warm tautness nipping at the corner of his mouth.
“That’s true.”
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“Chef Boyardee’s Beefaroni?” You read the label of a tin can out loud, brows pinching with amusement. “I thought they had gone out of business ages ago.”
“What? Of course not.” You could tell he was offended by the tone of his voice.
You smirked when he trotted towards you and snatched the can off your hand.
“It’s one of the best brands out there for canned food.” He lectured you, sliding the can in his backpack.
“I prefer anything from Campbell’s a thousand times over.” You jested as your hands travelled through the almost empty shelves, finding a sample of that same brand. “Their canned spaghetti is unbeatable.” You pinched your fingers together and smacked your lips, as if you were an Italian chef blowing a kiss.
“Do not start this feud between us, sweetheart. I can forgive many things, but not this senseless provocation.” His words were imbued with harshness, but his lips were softened by a crooked smile.
You giggled, putting away the can in your backpack, and proceeded to wander off further in the grocery store until you reached the pharmacy section. Medical supplies were really hard to come by and with an open wound like yours, they were very much needed. So, you rummaged through the shelves ― you would take anything you could find.
After a few minutes, you had located some sterile wound dressings, a couple of roller bandages, cleansing wipes and a small bottle of rubbing alcohol. You had also found one pack of expired painkillers ― you could not get too picky with expiry dates on the apocalypse.
You knelt down to put everything away in your rucksack when something caught your attention. There was a single pack of sanitary pads sitting at the back of the bottom shelf. Feminine hygiene products were so hard to come by, you seized it in the blink of an eye.
In doing so, you hit another cardboard box out of the way. Curious, you grabbed it and turned it around in your hands. The white letters against the blue background read, “Clearblue Easy digital pregnancy test.” You had seen the TV ads before the world went to shit, but didn’t pay them too much attention. Apparently, it was a new technology with a digital screen that would show the words “Pregnant” or “Not pregnant”. Fancy stuff, really. You kept on reading the small text on the package, mindlessly interested.
Your period should have come a few days ago. But ever since your teen years, it was never regular, making it very hard to predict ― so it didn’t worry you too much. In fact, it was completely normal for you, so you put the box back down on the shelf.
Wait. What day is it? You suddenly thought, trying to recall an image of a calendar in your head. With your fingers curled in a fist, you lifted one at a time while you did the mental calculations.
Then it hit you. Your period was not just a few days late, but two weeks. The latest it had ever been was five days, so fourteen ―fuck, fifteen!― days were definitely not normal for your cycle. Your hands began shaking as you started counting again ― maybe you had forgotten how to do basic maths mentally?
Your heart was pounding so hard and fast, a rush of blood heavily pumping through your eardrums, you almost missed Joel’s call.
“Hey, sweetheart. Where are ya?” His booted steps were fast approaching.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. HOLY SHIT. FUCK.
Panic boiled inside you as you wildly looked around ― Joel’s shoes were on the other side of the shelves.
Just in the nick of time, you shoved the pregnancy test box down in your bag, hiding it between all the other bits you had collected, just as Joel turned the corner into the corridor you were at.
You tried your best to feign normalcy as Joel inched forward towards you and extended a hand to help you get up. You accepted it and stood up, trying to hide your eyes away from him by pretending to secure your backpack.
“Did you find anything useful?” He innocently asked, and you almost choked with the bare air that filled up the room.
“Y-yeah,” you tried your best not to stutter, but your nerves had a tight grip on your vocal cords, “some first aid stuff for my wound.”
Why were you omitting your most important finding? Joel should be aware; you should tell him about what was plaguing you right now.
But you didn’t. Don’t want to worry him unnecessarily if it’s just a false alarm, you told yourself.
Joel cocked his head, and you were sure he had perceived your nervousness, but he didn’t press the matter, for which you were grateful.
“Let’s go back then. Found some more food and hygiene stuff ― a couple of toothbrushes, ain’t it exciting?” He grinned and you made your best effort to return the gesture.
“You do know how to make someone’s day.” You joked back, but your feeble attempt at normality ate at his conscience.
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It was well past midnight and Joel felt you stirring in his arms. The couch was not too big, so any small movement would startle him awake. Not that he was really sleeping anyway, too worried about the threats out there that could ruin the fragile peace of the night.
Your elbow sank in his ribs, and he swallowed a painful grunt.
“Sorry, Joel. I just can’t find the posture to fall asleep. I can go to the other couch if you―”
“Nonsense.” He interrupted you before you could suggest sleeping apart.
Maybe the couch was not the best option, but the bedroom was far too exposed to the main road for his liking. The living room, on the other hand, was facing towards the back of the property and was close to the door that led to the backyard, where the Jeep was hidden. So you both had to make do with the uncomfortable sofa.
He liked having you splayed out on top of him, your cold toes pressed against his bare feet looking for some warmth. He had covered you both with three thick blankets, your head almost tucked underneath with your cheek resting on his chest.
He stroked your hair, knowing that something was off. Joel could not pinpoint what exactly, but he was sure there was something on your mind worrying you. It pained him that you wouldn’t share what it was, especially after everything you had been through together. There should be no need to fence off your feelings away from him, but he understood that he couldn’t push you to share with him whatever preoccupied your mind.
Mainly because he also had worries of his own that he kept to himself. Like keeping you alive, for instance. How close Joel had been to losing you had unleashed a new wave of anxiety ― there was no room for mistakes anymore, he had promised himself. He would die before having you in harm’s way again.
You snuggled against his chest, looking for some comfort, while his arms embraced you tighter. Then he felt one of your cold hands snaking under his tee shirt, caressing his lower tummy.
His body reacted unwillingly at your touch, your hand too close to where he liked it most. Joel took a deep breath, and you snickered above him.
“You okay?” You teased, chin planted on his left pec and wicked eyes staring up at him.
“Mhmm,” was his way of saying yes. “Are you achy?”
“If you mean if something hurts, then no. I took two painkillers a couple of hours ago, so I’m actually pain-free right now. If you mean achy, like really achy… then yes.” Your voice lowered to a seductive whisper, your thumb rubbing the hairy trail running down his belly button.
“Jesus fucking Christ, honey.” He cooed when the same hand dipped under the waistband of the loose pants he used for sleeping.
“Are you achy, Joel?” You whispered in his ear as your fingers curled around his length.
“You need to rest―” He started scolding you, but you were having none of it.
You squeezed his manhood so sweet, with the perfect amount of pressure, he could not finish the sentence because a groan bubbled up his throat.
“I need to stop overthinking stuff, and I can think of a way to achieve that…” You purred again, your hand so still it was driving him crazy.
“What’s on your mind?” Even through the sensual haziness, he worried about you. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing important… Don’t worry about it,” you husked, kissing the corner of his mouth.
Your fingers firmly clutched around his girth while you began pumping him. Joel closed his eyes, swallowing a growl ― anything he was thinking about, had just gone out of the window of his mind.
He hunted down your mouth until a sultry dance of tongues ensued, your hand stroking his beating cock with determination. Joel fisted one of your ass cheeks when his balls began to feel heavy and hot. He then positioned you on top of him, straddling him, and sat up a little on the couch, the small of his back resting against the arm of the couch.
You pulled down his pants and underwear, freeing his demanding and leaking erection. You did not like to waste a drop, not even a tiny one, so you quickly smothered his sensitive head with your thumb, smearing the precum over his tip. Joel loved it when you did that.
Leaving a trail of wet kisses where your neck met your shoulder, Joel helped you remove your pants and panties; then cupped your molten core, his palm completely flushed against your needy pussy lips. You whimpered something unintelligible as his index finger dunked in your slick slit.
Joel loved how your velvety fold seeped for him. He lightly stroked that tight bud of nerves, while his middle finger quickly joined the other in the warm wetness of your pussy. It slid off your tackiness until it found your begging entrance. Joel circled it a few times, his thumb now attending your pulsing clit, until he dived it in.
You moaned audibly and your hand stilled around his throbbing dick. Joel felt relief when you finally resumed the pumping of his cock, most probably spurred on by his relentless fingering. The wet, sucking sounds your pussy was making around his finger was driving him mad with lust, especially when you tightened your walls around it.
His wandering middle finger sunk in your weeping hole too. Joel curled them both towards the front, caressing the soft, spongy spot that made you go wild with desire, while his thumb worked your clit diligently.
He knew you were lost to him the moment you let go of his hard, pulsating cock and placed your hands on each of his shoulders, finding your balance. You jerked your hips up and down on his lap as if you were riding his cock, your swollen cunt squeezing his fingers ever so sweetly.
“That’s it, baby. Come for me. Come on my fingers, I know you want it.” He goaded you while his free hand stroked his steely dick.
Joel felt the pulsation of your walls, what a tight grip they had on his fingers, announcing your orgasm. And before you tipped over the edge of your arousal, Joel took them out with a loud, squelching pop.
“J-Joel, p-please...” A pitiful whine escaped your mouth when you thought he was about to deny you an orgasm, but he wasn’t so cruel.
Joel forced your hips down on his beating cock, your creamy cunt sheathing him perfectly ― your quivering hole so well trained to stretch around him just enough. He held you down, impaled by his shaft, and then intensely circled your thudding clit again until you came hard on him. The intensity of your climax transformed your beautiful features ― the prettiest portrait he had ever set his eyes on.
This was his personal paradise, with you sat down on his lap and his engorged cock completely buried between your damp flaps. He didn’t know if it was voluntarily or not, but your walls kept on trembling around his dick, your face tilted upwards towards the ceiling. He could picture you with your mouth agape and eyes closed as you felt the last waves of your pleasure.
Joel released your waist and stroked your buttocks, burying his face between your regrettably covered breasts.
“Ride my cock, darlin’. Ride me hard and fast. Wanna feel this pussy of mine doing her job, working my dick as she should. What she was made for.” Joel could not ―would not― stop talking, knowing how much it turned both of you on.
Joel leaned back a bit while you looked for his mouth to muffle both of your moans. With the help of your knees comfortably placed on either side of him, you started swaying your hips back and forth, sitting on his pulsating, hot dick and almost releasing it entirely.
The pace you picked up was maddening, devilish even. You would harshly come down on him and then took your sweet time to free his manhood. Your motions grew savage and erratic, and Joel aided you by cupping both of your ass cheeks, guiding your rhythm and fucking up into you, meeting every thrust with one of his own.
The kiss got so sloppy you both needed a breather ― and you took the opportunity to sink your face in the crook of his neck while mewling like a kitten in heat, your saliva pooling on his skin while your hips smoothly rocked on top of him.
“I-I’m coming again, I can’t―” Your faltering voice tickled the wet skin of his neck.
“Let go, darlin’. Come for me, squeeze me hard, harder―” Joel didn’t need to incite you anymore, because as soon as he touched your writhing clit again, you melted all over him.
“Oh, fuck, Joel, yes― Mhmmm… A-ah…” You shrieked uncontrollably, choking his throbbing shaft with your squiring cunt, his mushroom head dragging on your g-spot just right.
Your cream coating his lap so thickly sent him down a spiral of lust he had learnt to crave. Joel felt the deep pulse, his veiny cock twitching with anticipation. Making use of the last remnants of his logic, Joel cupped your ass and push it up, so his dick slipped out of you just in time, the knob shyly and briefly caressing that tight ring.
With his needy erection lodged between your ass cheeks, he came hard with a guttural growl ― white, thick spurts of cum shooting up and landing on the curve of your buttocks. His head tilted back, rejoicing in the pleasure that was washing over him, exposing his neck to your sinful mouth. You scratched the stubble on his jaw with bare teeth, and then bit down on his skin, marking him yours.
His softening cock spasmed one las time in the fold of your skin, as Joel slowly came back to his senses, foraging for your lips. This time the kiss was not messy but needy as both of you came down from the high of your shared ecstasy.
“Joel,” you whispered into his mouth, “I love you. You know that, right?”
His chest swelled with your love confession ― he would never grow tired of you saying it out loud. But this time there was a different note to your admission, one he did not know how to interpret. There was as much love as there was doubt. Maybe you just needed some reassurance, albeit he did not see why.
He nuzzled your cheek before chastely pecking your reddened lips.
“Yeah, I know.” His mouth ghosted over your closed eyelids, caressing the delicate skin. “I love you too, no matter what.”
“No matter what?” You asked under your shaky breath.
“Yes, no matter what.” There was no hesitation whatsoever. He truly meant it.
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You had never bit your nails before, but that was everything you could do while you waited for the pregnancy test to develop.
How could you be in this situation? You both were always careful, with Joel finishing outside every time. Except for that one night, you thought. The night you both believed to be your last. “Please, Joel, I want to feel you, I need to feel you,” you had whispered to him at the top of your climax, blind to the fact that those words would seal your fate.
Nothing you could do take it back. If you wanted to take it back, that was.
And then there was last night. You felt extremely guilty for using sex as a distraction, but you panicked. That “I need to stop overthinking stuff” had escaped your mouth before you could stop it and Joel, as perceptive as he was, had picked up on it. Sometimes you wished he couldn’t read you like an open book.
The wait was killing you, your racing thoughts going over every single scenario your brain could come up with. All the good and the bad flashing before your eyes ― and you were so intent on focusing on the bad.
This world was not made to be lived in. Surviving was not guaranteed, death closing in at every turn of the path. And if it was hard enough for yourself, how would it be for a tiny, helpless baby? What kind of life would you be giving them? There were too many things that could happen, too many threats out there ― not only the dead, but also the ones who lived. If the apocalypse had taught you anything, it was that the living could not be trusted.
What if you died? Or even worse, what if your baby died? What if you couldn’t protect them? What if someone hurt them? What would you do then?
But before all of that, you would have to go through a pregnancy in a world where coming by some measly tampons was already a fucking miracle. All the complications you could face paled in comparison to how that baby could suffer during childbirth if something went wrong.
And then there was Joel. How would he react? You had never spoken about this, so you truly had no idea what his thoughts were on the matter. He was a dad, always would be ― and you knew how much it hurt him to be a childless father. How much he missed Sarah. How much he regretted everything he didn’t do that fateful September night. Perhaps Joel would see this baby as a blessing ― or a death sentence. It was impossible to tell.
Would he stay with you, or would he abandon you? Would he want to keep the baby?
Did you want to keep the baby?
A dense knot formed in your throat as tears gathered at the edges of your eyes, your foot nervously tapping the linoleum on the floor. A metallic tang suddenly flooded your sense of taste, and you removed your thumb from your lips ― you had nipped at your cuticle so bad, it had started bleeding.
You sucked on the wound in the hopes it would stop bleeding while your eyes were transfixed on the test, your heart pounding so hard it was climbing up your throat.
Then a change on the screen made your heart jolt painfully.
You lunged forward, hand extended. Your fingers were shaking so much, the test dropped from your grip and hit the sink, falling facedown. With trembling hands, you reached for it again and turned it around.
The world stilled.
Pregnant.
And then the world spun around you.
Your vision went white for a second, your other hand grasping the edge of the counter tight to prevent you from falling. Your knees were quivering so much you ended up sitting down on the lidded toilet, trying to control your quick breathing.
Tears inevitably welled up as your new reality slowly dawned on you. A part of you wanted this child so much, so badly, it was overwhelming. Before Cordyceps, you had always wanted to be a mother but thought it would never happen when your last relationship broke off. Then the apocalypse happened, and such desire got drown by your new priorities, so never really gave it another thought.
And now your long-forgotten yearning was staring right back at you. A crack of happiness forced its way through your heart and for a brief second, you smiled through the tears. Maybe this was not what you had planned, maybe it was selfish of you ― you had not even met this baby yet, and you knew you would give your life for them.
A knock on the bathroom door derailed your train of thought.
“Baby, are you okay?” Joel’s voice came through the plank of wood separating you.
And a part of you was scared to bits. Sheer panic was what made you spring up to your feet, your hand still holding the pregnancy test.
“Y-yeah!” You quickly answered, wiping away your tears as you shoved the test down in one of the pockets of your backpack.
Tell him. I should tell him. He has the right to know. This baby is as much his as they are mine.
You tried to convince yourself and were determined to share the news, but the moment you opened the door and were faced with Joel, fear took over your being and the words got stuck at the back of your throat.
You smiled at him as if nothing happened, as if your world had not been turned upside down a minute ago.
“Yeah, all good,” you said, your smile a little bit wider as you kept the tears at bay.
Joel’s eyes squinted ever so slightly, but if he suspected something, he didn’t say.
“Are you ready to go? Everything’s in the car,” he asked, his fingers seeking yours to pull you into the corridor.
“Perfect, let’s go.”
No matter what. He said no matter what. This is “no matter what.” Just say it. It’ll be fine. It’s okay. Say it.
“Joel?” You whispered his name, a fleeting moment of bravery.
His head turned around to look at you over his shoulder as he walked a step ahead of you.
“Yeah, darlin’?”
Now. Speak up. Say the words. He won’t leave you. He’s a dad. Always have been. He’ll understand. It’s okay. Say it. Come on, open your mouth and just say it!
“I think I’ve forgotten my toothbrush, sorry,” the words left your mouth before your brain could register them.
You had panicked again and wanted to hit yourself for it. Why the sudden lack of trust? He loved you and you loved him. That was all that mattered, right?
You turned on your heels before he could see your glassy eyes and scurried away to retrieve a toothbrush that was already packed away in your backpack.
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The detour to get to Oswego was eating up most of the fuel. For three days Joel had driven around, stalking out different roads to access the town. Perhaps he was paranoid but preferred to err on the side of caution. Chicago was still fresh on his mind, so the idea of getting close to civilisation again was not dear to him.
As much as he tried to focus, he was also distracted. You had been acting as always, but there was this nagging thought in the confines of his mind that told him there was something wrong. Joel did not know what it was but sensed something different in your attitude.
You were not distant with him, but you were cautious, almost reticent. Maybe coming closer to a town bothered you too, although he did not understand why. It was you who had suggested looking for Tommy, as much as he first loathed the idea.
He had been thinking about the reunion with Tommy since you both set your path towards Oswego. Joel did not know what to expect because Tommy could be as volatile as he was. He knew Tommy meant well, but in the end, he had left him behind when Joel needed his support the most. That memory, that betrayal, still stung ― badly. But according to you, forgiving and moving on would do wonders for him.
His thoughts drifted back to you as he watched you rummage through your backpack, looking for a lighter ― you were far enough from humanity and clickers that a little fire to boil some water with tea leaves before going to bed would not be an issue with the dense foliage sheltering you both. This was a quick pit stop before finding a house to spend the night.
Joel could not put his finger on what was bothering you, that harrowing feeling never truly left him since the night you spent on Pembroke. In retrospect, he even wondered if you had worked him up that night because he had asked you what was in your mind and did not want to answer him.
Whatever it was, you seemed intent on not sharing your worries with him. He was slightly hurt and felt like you had built an impenetrable wall around you. You would meet him at the door every now and then but wouldn’t really invite him in into the fortress of your mind.
But yet again, he did exactly the same. Perhaps if he opened up about his concerns, you would too.
As he was about to say something, you dropped your backpack on the fallen tree trunk and stood up.
“Silly me, I think I left it in the car,” you groaned, exasperated, as you made your way back to the Jeep.
Joel watched the backpack rock back and forth on the trunk before it fell forwards. He was able to catch it before it hit the frozen ground, but the contents of the front pocket spilled on the floor. He mindlessly picked each piece up and put it back in the pocket ― but the last thing caught his attention.
A white stick with a blue cap that was vaguely familiar. For a second, he thought it was a weird-looking pen until he flipped it around and was greeted with a digital screen that read, “Pregnant.”
It was just one simple word, but he could not make sense of it. That was until the pieces of the puzzle started to fit together, painting a clearer picture in front of him. His heart suddenly dropped to his stomach at the realisation of what was on the palm of his hand.
His jaw went slack as the news started to sink in. Pregnant? A baby? In this world? With all those threats out there? This was no life to bring up a baby. Always on the run, never settling anywhere ― it would be cruel to doom them to such an existence. He would not be able to protect them, he would fail all over again. That would kill him ― Joel was convinced he could not take another loss like that, cradling another dead child of his.
His memory shot back to Sarah, to the night that changed everything for the worse. He could still feel the warmth leaving her body, her teary eyes looking up at the night sky. The pain that shredded his whole being, leaving him an empty carcass to wander this Earth. His whole world had shattered to pieces ― pieces he was barely able to put together now.
What in another lifetime would have been a blessing, in this one it was most definitely a curse. A death sentence for the child, regardless of how hard both of you tried. Joel knew ― he knew very well. There were forces he could not control, and death was one of them. The moment his tainted soul touched an innocent one, he would corrupt them. The same way he corrupted yours.
The reality was, he was scared to death. There were not many things in this universe that would faze him anymore ― but this was one of them.
Was this what was worrying you? It had to be. Why had you not said one word to him about it? For three fucking days? Yes, he was scared, but he was madder.
“Joel, do you have the lighter? I can’t find―” You began to ask before turning around and closing the passenger’s door behind you.
Your eyes widened as if you had seen a ghost and froze in place. You seemed shocked enough, but what was your plan? Not tell him until you were literally showing? Not tell him at all?
“Why―”
“Care to explain this?” He barked between gritted teeth, his temper flaring, as he stood up.
He threw you the test and you just about managed to catch it. He watched your gaze drift down to the device, almost as if it was the first time you saw it.
For a minute you didn’t say anything ― nothing at all. His anger, but also his disappointment, grew. What did this say about you? About him? About your relationship?
“You’ve gone through my things?” You hushed, such a low murmur he hardly heard you.
Joel scoffed, not believing his hearing. Maybe he was deafer than he thought? Was that all that worried you? All that you had to say right now?
Your accusatory tone stung badly; a sharp dart directed to his pounding heart. You had really good aim.
“‘Course not! Your backpack fell―” Why was he explaining himself when it was obvious you had not showed him the same deference about way more important matters? “Doesn’t matter. When did you plan to tell me? Or were you gonna keep me in the dark?”
You just stared at him with doe eyes, your fingers wrapped around the test as if it was your lifeline. Why weren’t you talking? Why did you look at him as if he had booted you?
The knot in his throat got bigger, almost collapsing his airway. Fight me back.
“You said it was nothing important, dammit,” his voice broke on the last word.
Finally, you blinked and shyly took a few steps towards him. Joel’s eyes followed your every movement but didn’t meet you halfway as he should have, so you stopped in your tracks. The utter fear had him paralysed ― fear of losing you, of taking care of a baby on this decrepit world, of making another unfathomable mistake.
“And you said no matter what,” you whispered back, your heart seeking his but not finding it ― it was well tucked away, out of reach for the time being.
That was a low blow, one that would have made him fold if it wasn’t for his stubbornness.
“Are you keeping it?” He found himself asking, jaw clenched.
“It?” Again, another stab right to the centre of his chest. He didn’t mean it that way, but your rhetoric question made it sound awful now. “I wanted to speak to you first…”
“Ah, were you? So, I have a say in this?” He was genuinely surprised, his brows furrowing.
“Of course you do, Joel.” You muttered, dipping your hands in the pockets of your padded coat, a defeated look on your face. “This baby… is mine and yours. Ours. If you truly don’t want them, then…” You shrugged, a loud, heavy sigh leaving your mouth in the shape of a misty cloud. “Can’t force you, won’t force you.”
“Doesn’t look like we have much of a choice,” he snapped back, rubbing his face with one hand.
There were no hospitals, no doctors, no nothing. The reality was you both were stuck with the consequences of your actions.
“You do. I don’t,” Your voice cracked, your eyes watery and your head sinking between your shoulders as you took a step away from him. “It’s not my fault, you know?”
He suddenly felt like a fucking jerk. It was obvious his reaction was not what you were expecting of him. Damn, it wasn’t what he expected of himself. He had let his fear speak for him, instead of reassuring you everything was going to be okay.
Joel should have told you he would be by your side at every turn of this life and the next. Instead, it looked like he was blaming you for what had happened. But that was not his intention, not at all.
He then realised he was making it all be about himself, instead of about you and the baby. What an egocentric ass he was. He had been so worried about himself, about his fears, Joel hadn’t thought of how you were feeling. You, who was the most affected by it all ― not him.
Before he could change his narrative, before he could apologise and ask to start this conversation all over again, you turned on your heels and walked towards the car.
The slam of the passenger’s door had a definite fatality to it ― the kind that would make his stomach churn.
What the fuck had he just done?
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roosterforme · 2 years ago
Text
Old Habits Die Hard Part 16 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: After you visit Chicago, you understand just how hectic your life is about to become. And Bradley finally gets a very important piece of mail. There are things you want to say to him, but you don't know how. 
Warnings: Angst, swears, smut and fluff
Length: 3000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (fuckboy college student Bradley)
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Bradley helped you pack your bag and sat with you while you waited for your ride.
"I wish I could come with you. But I guess I'll have to wait to see Chicago when I visit you in the fall," he whispered, kissing your neck and holding you.
You were going to check out your new school for a long weekend since you'd be moving to Illinois next month. You were kind of terrified to go alone, but you needed to meet your advisor and look at your course of study. If you had the money, you'd take Bradley with you, but it really wasn't an option. 
"I'll scope out the city and see what looks fun," you told him, running your fingers through his soft hair. 
"Don't do the fun stuff without me though," he murmured. "Promise me, Sugar. Promise me you won't visit that big, silver bean. It looks dumb as hell, but I really want to see it."
You laughed against him and nodded your head in the crook of his neck. "I promise."
"And no deep dish pizza either."
You gasped and pulled away from him. "Now that's where I draw the line, Beer Boy."
Bradley laughed and pushed your hair away from your face. "I'll miss you." His face was so earnest, you had no doubt that he would. 
"I'll call you as soon as I land. Behave without me this weekend."
"I will," he whispered against your lips. "I'll be thinking about you the whole time." You dipped your tongue into his mouth and eased yourself further onto his lap, and just when you started to get cozy, your phone alerted you that your ride had arrived.
He walked you down to the street and kissed you one last time before you got in the car to leave. The urge to make some big proclamation about your feelings was filling you up inside, but you had to tamp it back down. Your feelings were honestly scaring you a bit since Tyson's birthday party. Nothing was making much sense to you now, and you needed to keep in mind that you wouldn't be seeing Bradley on a daily basis starting next month. The idea of it felt like too much weight to carry around with you as he stroked your neck with his fingers and told you he'd miss you so much.
You watched the Virginia countryside in the morning light, and when you landed in Chicago, the juxtaposition of continuous urban sprawl was alarming. You figured you would get used to it in time, but the sheer volume of traffic and city noise started to give you a headache almost immediately. 
You managed to get a taxi to your hotel, and you quickly changed to meet with your advisor. Sometimes you wished you had a closer relationship with your parents so you had someone to rely on. It made you want to put all of your trust in Bradley, and you wanted to be the person he could trust with anything. But you'd only known each other for a few months. 
But you texted him anyway. You snapped a picture as you rode past 'the bean' and promised him you weren't going without him. You texted him photos of the school campus as you walked along, searching for your advisor's office. 
When you found her spacious workspace, she jumped up and introduced herself to you. "I can't tell you how happy we are to have you joining us for the fall semester. Have a seat. And please call me Carmen."
"Thanks, Carmen. I just got lost walking through the campus, but it looks amazing here."
She just smiled at you and promised to take you on a tour tomorrow morning. "Now, I want to give you a brief overview of what will be expected, and then we can select your first semester classes later this weekend. However, I must say, I am so impressed with your undergraduate studies. I've spoken extensively about you with your advisor from UVA, and he assures me that we couldn't have picked a finer PhD candidate to add to our program. So welcome, once again."
You weren't used to hearing such high praise about yourself, and you felt a little uncomfortable in the leather seat. What if they had all actually made a huge mistake? What if you couldn't hack it? You'd be sleeping in the park under the bean, calling Bradley to come out to Chicago and rescue you. 
"Wow," you managed to say with a soft laugh. "I guess the pressure is on then."
When Carmen nodded with a very serious look on her face, all pretense of teasing on your part vanished. 
"It's going to be intense if you want to graduate in four years. And that's one of the things that will be required for you to keep your scholarship. You'll need to maintain a high GPA as well, so you'll be spending a lot of time in the labs and working closely with me."
You pressed your lips together. "It doesn't sound like I'll have much time for a personal life."
Carmen laughed and shrugged. "That's probably true. But when you finish your schooling in just an additional four years, you'll have your pick of careers. You told me in an email that you wanted to be a college professor someday? Well, after we're done with you, I can almost guarantee you'll be able to work anywhere you want to."
You let that sink in for a few minutes while Carmen told you more about the graduate dorms and your monetary compensation.
------------------------------
Bradley spent all day Friday in the study room, bored out of his mind and missing your body perched on his lap. He read his final novel for his English class, and he would have no problem finishing his final paper this weekend. His economics class was so easy, it was boring, and he'd already finished reading his political science textbook.
He'd started counting down the days until graduation. He was ready to move on, simply dying to hear back about flight training. Then he would be able to make some decisions, because at the moment, he was feeling so lost. He was happy for you though. You knew exactly what you wanted, and you were going to get it. He just hoped he would be that lucky this time. 
When his phone went off with texts from you, he scrolled through the photos you sent him, stopping on a selfie of you smiling in front of a fountain. He set it as his background. Then he texted you back.
Dev was sorting the mail when Bradley got back to the Beta house, and the rest of the guys were getting ready for the weekend parties. "Here," Dev told him, tossing a thick envelope to Bradley when he walked past.
"Thanks, man," Bradley replied, expecting it to be the annual information on his mom's life insurance policy. But when he turned it over in his hands and saw the US Navy emblem on the front, he nearly tripped on the stairs. He took the remaining steps two at a time and locked himself in his room. 
With shaky hands, Bradley tore into the envelope and sat down hard at his desk.
"Welcome to officer training and the Naval Aviation Academy," he read out loud to himself, and Bradley could see the tears clouding his vision before he could feel them. 
He set the letter down on his desk and cradled his face in his hands and just cried. This was the thing he had wanted for so long, and this time he wasn't going to let anyone take it away from him. 
Bradley wiped away his tears and let himself smile. His grades had improved so much, especially since he had a 4.0 so far for his senior year. In some sick, twisted way, he thought he had Chase to thank for this, because Bradley wasn't sure he would have been able to find the motivation to drink less and study more on his own. 
He wanted to text you right away. He also wanted to tell Hannah. But he would wait until you came back on Sunday night before he said anything. 
So he read through every bit of information twice and sent an email to the officer listed as his contact person for housing inquiries. As soon as he gave up his room here, he'd have absolutely nowhere to go otherwise. He also asked about guest accommodations, so he would have a good idea about what he should tell you for when you came to visit him.
His schedule looked absolutely wild. In his first year, he'd be in Rhode Island, Florida, Texas, and then California. And now he was hoping he'd have time to see you in Chicago.
So Bradley partied a bit all weekend, silently celebrating his acceptance letter. He avoided the hard liquor and the mob of girls asking him what happened to his girlfriend. You'd be back soon enough, and he couldn't wait to show you his letter.
---------------------------
Your campus tour and lunch with the head of the math department went smoothly. Then you picked out which dorm you'd be moving into, with the option of coming early in May to get a jumpstart on your classes. Then you sat down with Carmen again to select your schedule for the fall semester and see which textbooks you would need to acquire. 
You'd be learning about things you never even dreamed of at UVA. And you'd be working with some of the most intelligent and well studied people in the field. It was a lot for you to absorb.
When you flew back to Virginia on Sunday, you were so antsy, you couldn't sit still. When you landed you texted Bradley and told him you were going to get a ride directly to the Beta house, he said he'd be waiting for you.
And he was. You saw him sitting on the porch when your ride dropped you off, and he walked down to get your bag and pull you into a tight hug. 
"I missed you, Sugar." He scooped you into a hug as the car pulled away, and you let him hold you until you were sliding out of his arms. "How much did you love Chicago?"
You kissed him softly and then nodded. "It was kind of a shock to the system, but...yeah, I think it will be good."
You just inhaled his scent for a few moments while he rubbed your back and asked you for some details. Then it struck you; if you missed each other this much after just a few days apart, how were you going to date each other in two different time zones? You held onto him tighter and kissed the scars on his neck.
"Can I show you something? Up in my room?" he asked softly.
You huffed out a laugh. "I would certainly hope you'd wait until we got to your room for that, Beer Boy."
He rolled his eyes and picked up your bag. "That's not what I was talking about, and you know it. But...yeah, I can show you that, too."
You laughed as Bradley chased you up the stairs, and you opened his door, running your fingers along your phone number as you went inside.
"What do you want to show me?" you asked between kisses. Because now that you had him alone, you needed to touch all of him. His fingers dug into your hair, a little rough along your scalp as he pulled your body against his. 
"I want you to read something," he told you, guiding you backwards until you were sitting at his desk. He pointed to an envelope that looked like it had been opened very hastily, and he kissed your neck as you reached for it.
"Bradley," you gasped when you saw the return address. 
You spun around to face him, but he just nodded and said, "Go on, read it."
As quickly as you could manage, you pulled everything out of the envelope and started to read. You made it through two lines before you were out of your seat and climbing Bradley like he was a tree.
"Oh my god, Bradley! You did it!" You were kissing him all over his face while he held onto you. At first you thought he was crying, but then you realized your lips were met with your own salty tears. "I'm so proud of you!"
"Thanks, Sugar," he whispered against your lips. "I got the letter on Friday, and I've been dying to tell you in person. And now you're the first one I told."
"You could have told me during one of our dozen phone calls, Bradley!"
He just shook his head and climbed on top of you on his bed. "It's not the same."
"What are we going to do when phone calls are all we have?" you asked him softly. But Bradley just shook his head.
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He didn't want to think about that yet. He didn't want to think about any of it at all. 
"We'll figure it out," he promised. Your hair was spread out across his pillow, and you were looking up at him like you trusted him with everything. Graduation was so close now, and both of you knew where you were headed next. But none of that mattered, because you'd still have each other.
"I trust you, too, Sugar," he told you, even though you hadn't said anything. "You're so smart. You always know what to do. I trust you."
Your hands were in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you. "I knew you'd get in," you told him. "I never doubted you for a moment."
Bradley smiled as you kissed him. "You're the only one who feels that way about me."
"Lucky me," you whispered, wiping a stray tear from your cheek before you started to pull his shirt off. Nothing you did felt rushed, and even though you were pinned underneath him, Bradley knew you were the one in control.
He basked in the feel of your hands on his bare skin and your soft body beneath him. You had changed him so much; or rather, he had changed because of you. He had known he wanted to be better, but he really did it for you as much as himself. 
"Sugar." Your lips were on his shoulder, gliding across his skin, leaving a trail of not quite kisses as you reached for the front of his jeans.
He wished he could make you cum a million times tonight. He wanted to watch every inch of you as you got off on him, because soon he would have to go long stretches without you.
He stripped your clothing off as well, and you were already wet and moaning when he dipped his fingers down along your pussy. 
"Beer Boy!" you whined. "I need you."
He needed you more. Once he had rolled a condom into place, he rolled onto his back and guided you on top of him. He was hard and ready for you, but he watched the look on your face as you straddled his abs and let your forehead rest against his. 
"I need you." You whispered it this time as his fingers gently memorized the curve of your hips. Then you eased yourself down his body and guided him inside you with a soft hiss.
Eyes slightly out of focus, you moved above him, the bump of your thighs against his body just perfect. Bradley was mesmerized, just like he always was when he was with you like this. He let his fingertips trail up along your ribs and across your tattoo and you gasped for him.
"So perfect," he said, and you kissed him hard while you rode him. You tasted his lips and his teeth and moved with a rhythm that had him close to the edge.
He guided his fingers to the space between his body and yours where you could rub yourself against him. And then you were crying out into his mouth as your pussy squeezed his cock, and he came too. 
"So perfect," he repeated into your hair as you buried your face against his neck.
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You changed into Bradley's tie dye shirt and sat on his floor sharing a pizza with him. 
"What's your dormitory going to be like?" he asked, folding a slice in half and taking a huge bite. 
"It's in this ancient building with insanely intricate architecture. I picked it because it looked fun, which I'm sure wasn't the best decision," you said with a laugh as he finished the piece of pizza. "But the best part? It's all mine. No roommate!"
Bradley grinned. "That'll be nice for when I come to visit."
You smiled. "It's a long walk to the bean, but if the weather's good, it's doable. And there's literally deep dish pizza on every street. Jealous yet? Are you still sure you want to go to Rhode Island?"
Bradley leaned across the pizza box and placed the softest, sweetest kiss on your cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed and you smiled. "If there was any option for me to be closer to Chicago, I would have taken it, Sugar. Promise."
You just looked at him, longing for him to understand how you felt inside, but you were way too afraid to say anything to him. You were in love with him, and it was eating away at you. There was no way you could tell him. Not when you were graduating and leaving so soon. It would have to wait. Maybe there would be a better time later. But not now.
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One. More. Chapter. Left. A million thanks to @mak-32 for helping me the whole time with this fic. This one is for you!
PART 17 (the final chapter)
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irishmammonagenda · 7 months ago
Text
Summertime Shenanigans-Obey Me X Reader
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Summary: You go to the Celestial Realm on a mission, and end up finding out about a horror occurring all over different afterlives. With Lucifer's upcoming birthday, chaos ensues. Word Count: 6.3k+ Warnings: more than half of this is crack btw. female reader. Religious references. OCs involved, mentions of mythology, very bad representation of a very certian country. very much a Lucifer x reader bc its his birthday <3
post dividers by @saradika-graphics
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You seem to keep finding yourself in the Celestial Realm these days, which makes sense seeing as you did get reincarnated as an angel so it is technically your realm. But still, you've visited the Celestial Realm as an angel way more times than you'd visited the Human Realm as a human.
Nothing but your thoughts occupy you as you climbed over the fence that bordered the official entrance to the Celestial Realm. Technically you could´ve just walked through the gate like a fucking normal person, or y´know used your wings to fly over the massive fence, but climbing was funner.
When you do make it over the fence, you make a beeline for the Celestial Gardens, passing Saint Peter on the way. The man just looks at you and sighs inwardly muttering something about how he was not crucified upside down just to watch some crackhead climb over the gates of heaven, he turns away from you and moves to greet a new arrival, being the nosy fucker that you are, you decide to watch from behind a cloud.
Peter can see you by the way. You're not fooling anyone, he's just choosing to ignore you.
Peter smiles at the young woman with hair as orange as a runny yolk. He nods to her. "Hello, and welcome to Heaven. I'm Saint Peter."
The woman's eyes widen and she looks around. "Heaven? But...that can't....I'm not..-"
Peter sighs, looking at the pendant of Mjölnir around her neck and nodding to himself. "Valhalla is currently under construction, again. We in Heaven have agreed to take all coming to Valhalla and host them for a few weeks until the damage is fixed. Again."
The woman lets her quickened breathing slow down, she mumbles weakly. "O-oh right...thank you...but..Valhalla's damaged, how?"
"Nothing much, just Derek."
"Derek?"
Peter shrugs, you tilt your head from where you're hiding behind your cloud. "He's just some guy. He's been appearing in every plane of Afterlife and, pardon my french, fucking things up."
The woman cracks her knuckles. "But why?"
Peter shrugs, "Because Derek's a dickhead."
"I see...."
Peter hands her a pamphlet before pointing her in the direction of the temporary accomodation set up for Norse Devotees before turning around and yanking the cloud off of you.
"Michael's where he usually is. Also, please stop climbing the fence, you're scaring the doves."
"Who's Derek and what's he got against Valhalla?"
Peter just sighs, "He's from Illinois."
"Understandable. I'm off to go see Michael, Bye Peter!"
"Goodbye MC! Use the gate next time!" Is all Peter shouts after you, before turning and having to explain to another disgruntled newcomer that a man called Derek exists so they have to stay in Heaven for a week.
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After making it to the Celestial Gardens, you find Michael, Jesus and surprisingly, Satan huddled together looking at a crystal ball. You stop in your tracks, "What are you guys doing?"
"Making a gnome." Michael answers at the same time Jesus and Satan say, "Watching people debate theology."
You blink, sitting down in between Jesus and Satan. The former groaning with his head in his hands, exasperation written all over his tanned face, strands of dark wavy hair fall over his expression as eyes as rich as soil squeeze shut. An unusual sight to say the least. "If these people don't stop calling my mother a whore..."
"Yucky." You make a face.
"Very yucky." Michael agrees. "It's a shame we're not allowed to smite humans anymore."
You tilt your head looking at the Archangel. "You'd smite someone for calling another person a whore?"
Michael nods, golden curls and coils bouncing around as he does so, some paper shavings falling out from the confines of the coils like dandruff, ruby red eyes portray seriousness he doesn't normally express as he looks up from where he's giving the gnome insanely big ears. "Well no one messes with Mary."
Jesus nods in agreement.
Satan pats Michael on the shoulder, "Damn straight."
You look between the three, making note of Michael's green robe tied in such a way half of his chest is visible. Said visible skin is covered in glue and paper. "So, why are you torturing a gnome, and why are you guys watching humans debate theology?"
Satan shrugs, watching in the crystal ball as the Jehovah's Witnesses' enter the room to debate. "Funny."
Jesus smiles, "Interesting, but also frustrating."
Michael looks between the two, now attempting to paper maché more hair onto the gnome, in the process somehow getting newspaper stuck to his dark skin. "I'm an artist."
Satan gives you a hug, standing up and stretching his legs. "Well I better get going. If I leave fast enough I won't have to deal with Saint Peter on the way out."
Michael whistles, still not looking up from the gnome. "This about the upside down cross symbol?"
Satan sighs. "Not my fault people think it's my symbol not his...."
Michael discreetly glances over to Jesus who is explaining to you what's been happening in the debate he and Satan were watching. "Well I mean, getting crucified is kind of a bad experience sometimes."
Jesus makes a face at him. Michael raises his hands. "Okay...all the time."
Satan gives his uncle a look before he waves goodbye to you. "See you back at home, yeah?"
"Mhm! But don't tell Lucifer I'm here or I was here."
Satan smirks. "Only if you don't tell him I was here."
"Pinky promise?" You hold your pinky out.
"PInky promise." Satan intertwines your pinkies before waving goodbye to Jesus. "Bye Jesus! Sorry about the whole Desert thing! Bye Michael thanks for the blackmail material."
"Goodbye my favourite nephew!"
"Goodbye Satan." Jesus pauses the crystal ball and smiles kindly at you. "So what brings you to the Celestial Realm?"
You stiffen. "Oh yeah....I need to talk to Michael..."
Michael pauses from where the massive ears for the gnome have broken apart due to their heaviness. "If it's about Derek I already have a meeting with Father, Hera, The Dagda, and Odin later on today about the situation." He drawls boredly, before grinning, "But don't worry, I'll be sure to tell you all the details afterwards!"
You blank, "Well-...uh...it's not about Derek...." Jesus senses some sort of emotional turmoil from you, and places a tanned, scarred hand on your shoulder comfortingly.
Michael pauses from his horrific gnome creation, looking up at you with a raised eyebrow. Ruby red eyes staring into your soul. "Oh...then what's it about? You seem nervous."
Jesus stands up, giving you a pat on the head. "Well I'll give you two your privacy. Good luck with whatever it is, MC." The man gives you a knowing smile before walking away, the sun shining on his dark waves. You watch him leave, missing his comforting presence as you turn your attention onto the Archangel.
Time to ask him the biggest most important question in your afterlife.
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meanwhile...
"Psst, kid. Yo kid." A man wearing a baseball cap asks from the fence bordering heaven, a cherub looks up at him, her small head tilting in confusion.
"Who are you?" She asks, stumbling onto her tiny feet as she walks towards the fence.
"I'm a friend....I got locked out of Heaven on accident and need help getting back in!" The strange man says, running his hands over his buzz cut, he adjusts his Chicago cubs cap. "I just need you to let me in!"
The little girl blinks at him, her small ringlet curls sway slightly in the light breeze as she gets closer to the fence. "But I dunno you...."
The man's lips tighten for a moment before morphing into a smile. "But I'm your friend! Are we not friends?" He says, allowing his face to fall into a sad expression.
The little girl looks up at him, still a few yards away from the fence, just out of arm's reach of the man. "My daddy sayed I'm not allowed to talk to strangers...."
"Oh really?" The wolfish man smiles. "And who's your daddy?"
"God!" She grins. "Well so is my other daddy and mummy but they're still on earth!"
God? He pales. "Oh...right....Well I'm still your friend, aren't I?" He reaches a hand through the fence, he needed to get into heaven for his plan God Dammit! The hand inches closer to the cherub.
"What's going on here?" A voice cuts through the silence along with tanned skin and ash-blond hair. The man retracts his hands from through the fence immediately.
"Oh...just got lost and couldn't find the main gates!....I was trying to get help...!...Is all..."
Raphael nods slowly, looking from the man to the cherub. "So you asked a cherub?"
"She was the only person I'd saw!"
"Guards patrol around the perimeter of the realm. Surely you could've flagged down one of them?"
"O-oh."
Raphael's lips twitch upwards slightly in something that could hardly be described as a smile. "No problem. I can direct you to where you need to go." The angel's hand twitches and a spear starts to materialise.
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"Hey Michael can I borrow that sellotape for a second?"
"Sure! What for?" Michael tilts his head, still waiting on this very important thing you're supposed to be asking him.
You whsitle, pulling up your shirt and sellotaping under your breast on the left side of your ribs, where your pact mark with Lucifer is. "I can't risk Luci finding this out yet...."
Michael raises an eyebrow playfully.
"So basically...I uh...I kind of need to ask you something..."
Michael grins, red eyes sparkling. "You can ask me anything MC!"
"I...I need your blessing."
"My blessing?" Michael's brows furrow confusedly. "For what?"
"Well you see...."
You explain, and upon seeing Michael's darkening expression, you nearly gulped.
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Raphael sighed in annoyance. The strange man had booked it and ran away, leaving him with the cherub, he stiffens slightly as he meets her big hazel eyes.
"...Hello."
"Hi! I know you! You're Raphael!"
Raphael nods. "Yes I am."
The cherub grins, her chubby cheeks making her eyes crinkle slightly. "I'm Evangeline! But I can't spell that so I just write Eva!"
The Archangel nods awkwardly, attempting to smile at the child. "Well that's great, Evangeline....I need to get back to the Celestial Palace...." The man says and begins walking, the child starts walking with him.
"That's fun! Do you always have spears with you?"
"Yes." Raphael answers disjointedly.
"Wow! I always wanted to hold a spear! Can I hold your spear Mr Raphael?"
"That would be dangerous, Evangeline." He answers awkwardly.
The child pouts. "Aw, okay!"
A moment of silence.
The cherub tugs on his trouser leg. "How come your hair's all grey?"
"It just is, I guess."
"But why?"
"God made me that way I suppose." He replies awkwardly.
"Okay!" Evangeline grinned. "God made me with weird eyes! Sometimes they look more green or more brown!"
Raphael blinks, this child was almost as socially inept as Michael. "That's because your eyes are hazel."
This was going to be a long walk.
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Michael glares at you, straightening his shoulders to make them seem broader, and even with the mess of paper stuck to his skin and face, he still looks threatening.
As unusually serious as you'd ever seen him, it almost hurts to keep his gaze.
He's stopped his arts and crafts and instead focuses all of his attention on you. "I'm going to need you to repeat that, MC."
You audibly gulp.
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Lucifer sighs from where he's seated in the student council room. The paperwork feeling more suffocating than usual. Almost as if someone had taped over his mouth and nose very badly. The door creaks open and he looks up to see Mammon.
The Avatar of Greed looks around the room before cursing and turning to walk out again.
"Mammon."
"Oh hiya Lucifer!" Mammon says, looking disgruntled.
"What are you doing." Lucifer sighs, knowing better than to frame it as a question.
"Lookin' for MC. Can't find'er anywhere...."
The first born sits up straighter, something flashing in his ruby eyes. "You can't find MC?"
"Nope. And I've checked ev'rywhere! Even the fuckin' attic. I asked Beel but he said he hasn' saw'er since this mornin'."
Lucifer feels something swirl in his chest. "I'll ask Diavolo."
"Thanks...Me and Beel are teamin' up and lookin' around the classrooms."
Lucifer pinches his hooked nose.
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Diavolo sits in the meeting room of the palace, a man of granduer sits across from him. Long silvery hair frames his timeworn face, a well groomed beard grows from his face, as he enjoys a cup of Barbatos' tea.
Diavolo's brows furrow. "I just don't see us being able to do anything about it without potentially hurting our already strained relationship with the Human Realm."
The man nods, glancing down at his coarse hands with his one eye. He speaks with a Scandinavian accent. "Those were our thoughts as well. Killing him could be a bad diplomatic move."
The Demon Prince nods gravely to the God. "I heard from my meeting with Helios that this mortal journeyed into realms unknown and came out...different."
Odin scratches his chin in thought. "I say we find a way to trap him." He closes his eye. "I do believe this figure was spotted outside of the Celestial Realm."
Diavolo nods seriously, a small grin on his face. "Well at least we know the general area he's in."
"But you and I both know we can't kill him without the high possibility of it backfiring on us." The Revered warrior attests.
Diavolo nods in agreement before a knock on the door is heard. The Demon Prince stands up, excusing himself to open the door, revealling a frazzled Lucifer.
"Oh hello Lucifer, what's the matter?"
"I apologise for interrupting Lord Diavolo but have you seen MC? We believe she's gone missing..."
Diavolo's eyes widen in worry. "No, have you tried calling her?"
Lucifer shakes his head, Odin regards the scene with vague interest. "Goes to voicemail, she isn't receiving our texts either."
Diavolo sitffens.
"If I may interject, MC is the human-turned-angel who managed to keep her pacts even after her rebirth?" The Norse God asks.
Lucifer nods.
"Well then, she's in the Celestial Realm right now with Archangel Michael."
"Thank you. Thank you." The Avatar of Pride says breathlessly. Youre safe, possibly scheming, but you're safe. "How did you know that?"
Odin points to his eye, or lack thereof.
"Oh right...wisdom..." Lucifer blinks, the adrenaline wearing off making it easier to think straight and also feel shame. "Well thank you Odin and Diavolo. I apologise for interrupting."
Diavolo grins. "It's never an interruption if it's about MC's safety."
Lucifer leaves, shutting the door gently behind him, Diavolo and the Mighty Odin continue their discussion.
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Speaking of your safety, you're not exactly feeling very safe right now. You should make a wikihow article called 'How to Turn Archangel Michael into a Feral Beast in Literally One Sentence!'
Said Archangel has his narrowed eyes on you. "Lucifer is my baby brother...."
"He's thousands of years old if you think about it." You smile awkwardly.
"Still just a baby."
"He's the Avatar of Pride! LIterally the Demon Prince's Righthand man!"
"And that's a great preschool activity." Michael huffs.
You sigh, looking down at the spear currently being pointed at you neck. Michael makes a sound akin to a snarl. "Look MC. I know that Lucifer is his own person. I know that even though he's still an edgy little teenager slash toddler in my eyes he is technically an adult. But he's still my baby brother."
The Archangel lowers his spear, turning around, golden coils bouncing as he does so, almost deflating with him. "He's just....those two minutes spent without him were the hardest two minutes of my life...except of course the multiple minutes in the Great Celestial War."
You walk closer to Feral Michael, who turns back around to face you, a fire in the crimson eyes he shares with his twin brother. "I know he's all grown up now, but he's still my baby brother, and I know that you're one of my closest friends MC."
He closes the distance between you, cornering you into a tree. Face stony and grave. "But so help me God, if you ever do anything to hurt him....and I don't mean having a simple argument or whatever...If you ever truly do something to hurt him...you're going to wish there was a realm out there that could shield you from me."
He pauses, moving away from you and grinning his usually playful grin. "Are we understood."
He wasn't asking.
"Yes. Very understood." You nod. "I would never hurt Luci like that....ever...."
The blond pulls one of his golden curls so it stretches completely straight before letting go and watching it coil back up again. "Well....I'm sorry I went all...like that on you...big brother instincts?"
You shrug. "Reminds me of Lucifer that one time this witch genuinely threatened Mammon with a grimoire. That shit was brutal."
"Must've been." Michael whistles. "So...have you decided how you're going to do it?"
"Well sort of...but I was hoping you'd help me shop for the ring?"
Michael's grin widens.
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Derek Wisconsin made it away just barely with his life. He had almost convinced that little girl to let him into the Celestial Realm! He really almost did! But then that Seraph (or was he an Archangel?) guy Raphael just had to stop him!
He pants, beads of sweat running down his forehead. Taking off his Chicago Cubs cap and sighing in relief at the feeling of a free bald buzzcut head.
Derek groans, peeling off sunburnt skin while the door creaks open. He never should've went to somewhere as sunny as the Celestial Realm without putting sunscreen on first.
Derek might've been one millionth-gazillionth italian but he definitely did not tan like one. When he was in the sun he burned more than a petrol fire on a hot summer's day. There must be ginger genes in him somewhere.
"Derek. You need to stop this. All of this attempted destruction of the afterlife....it's...it's not right Derek." A voice sounds behind him. Another man, with an identical buzzcut and baseball hat, except this man had glasses.
"Shut up Eric." Derek grunts. "I'm doing what has to be done so the cubs win every match they play."
"You're doing this for baseball?" Eric asks, adjusting his glasses further up his nose.
"Baseball is our life Eric."
"No. Baseball is your life, Derek. I like ice hockey better and you know it!" Eric bites his bottom lip, arms crossed over his chest as he looks at his friend.
"That's just because you're half Canadian." Derek scoffs. "Go listen to Justin Beiber you race traitor."
"American isn't a race, Derek."
Eric looks at his friend, before taking off his hat. "You can have your spare fucking hat back, Derek." The half Canadian reaches the door before turning around. "Oh and by the way, Justin Beiber fucking sucks. Canadians don't claim him."
The door slams shut.
Derek is left in silence.
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Evangeline giggles, climbing around Raphaels shoulders, he winces and brings up an uncertain hand to stabilise her. With one leg on each shoulder and Raphael holding both of her legs for stability the little angel cheers.
"Wow! I'm so high up! I'm so high up! Do ya see me?!"
"Yes....I see you." The angel nods slowly, continuing his now very delayed walk to the Celestial Palace.
"I love being up high! I can't wait till my wings grow some more and then I can fly!"
"..I'm sure you'll be a good flyer." The ashy haired angel grunts out awkwardly.
"Yay!"
Forget almost dying in the Great Celestial War, this was the scariest moment of his life.
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You blink at Michael's retracting form. He sat you down on a bench and gave you crayons and a colouring book, before telling you to wait on him finishing this meeting about that one guy Derek.
You sigh and begin colouring in a picture of a clown and making it Michael. Fuck that guy, you're not a kid!
Upon hearing footsteps you look up. "Oh hey Raphael! Who's the kid?"
"I'm Evangeline!" The cherub grins fidgeting and manuevering herself off of Raphael's shoulders and waddling up to you. "Who are you?"
"I'm MC, I'm Raphael's friend!" You smile at the child. Raphael gives you a grateful look. You never knew he could be that expressive.
"Me too! I'm Mr. Raphael's bestest ever friend!" The girl grins excitedly, swinging while standing, going back and forth to leaning on her heels then to leaning on her tiptoes.
"Well! I'm happy to hear that Evangeline! Would you like to do some colouring in?"
"Yes please!"
Raphael sits beside you, feeling the need to worship the ground you walk on. His ordeal of dealing with a child is over.
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After a very enlightening zoom call meeting and bidding goodbye to Odin. Diavolo calls a very spooky number.
The phone is answered a crackly voice speaks through it.
"I need your help. We know where Derek is staying but as Gods, Angels and Demons....we can't kill him...but you can."
A chuckle crackles through the phone speaker. "Send me his Location. I'll see what I can do."
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[A Week or So Later....]
Derek wipes the sweat off of his brow as he begins his operation. Making bombs that aren't molotov cocktails is very difficult, thank god for Wikihow.
Unfortunately setting them down strategically in order to blow up the Celestial Realm is quite difficult.
"You seem to be having some troubles with that." A voice cuts through the silence.
"Oh yeah I am-" Derek begins before turning around and staring wide-eyed at the ivory-haired intruder like a deer in headlights. He immediately stands up. "Who are you?"
"The name's Solomon." The sorcerer gives the man a closed mouth smile. "Normally I don't interfere with the business of the Celestial Realm...but seeing as they asked, and a very close friend of mine is an angel, and also seeing as I think baseball is largely pointless...I don't think it's a very logical gameplan to let you live..."
Derek splutters. "Y-you can't!"
Solomon opens his eyes, something unreasonable in those ocean blue irises. "Oh but I can!" He grins. "It's one thing to try and destroy things, it's another to attempt to blow up multiple plains of existence with bombs you made using a WIkihow tutorial just because of baseball."
"I-...I just!" Derek backs away, Solomon follows, absentmindedly using magic to disable every bomb.
"You just what? We know you're from Illinois, but have some sense Derek." Solomon shakes his head. "You are the worst stereotype of Americans I've ever seen. I looked into your file. Your surname is literally Wisconsin."
Derek grunts. "You don't understand my passion. I'll kill everyone for those baseballers."
"You've killed several people after highjacking a bus in the Human Realm. You're a danger to yourself and others. Plus you've one too many jokes about teenage girls 'doing it better'. Bye bye Derek." Solomon gives him another closed eye smile, humming over the screaming and the sound of crackling flames.
When all is done and gone, the sorcerer takes out his DDD, alerting the others that it's been taken care of.
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[Yet another Week Later...]
A flash of celestial light bounces off of every wall and surface in your room. You yelp, ivory wings and golden halo jutting out in your startledness. Did you do this? No. You couldn't have. Maybe subconsciously..? How were you going to explain a flash of celestial light to Lucifer? He was going to kill you! Maybe not kill just yet seeing how he reacted the first time you died. But! You were an angel now, which meant no more fragile human body, which meant Lucifer would hypothetically have no qualms stringing you up! Oh God this was it wasn´t it? You were going to-
The light dims, clearing completely, a silhouette appears in its wake. Phew! Guess it wasn't you nearly exorcising everyone in the House of Lamentation then. (Even though it wouldn't exorcise anyone anyway seeing as that wasn't how demons worked. But hey, you were disoriented.) Your relief was short lived, seeing as there was actually someone in your room.
You grab your lamp and hold it up like its a baseball bat. You were prepared to swing, what you weren't prepared for however; was the figure racing towards you. You screech as you're pulled into a bone-crushing hug. Your grip on the lamp relaxes and so do you when you realise just who it is.
"Michael?! What the fuck are you doing here?!" You hiss. "You scared the life out of me!"
Michael loosens his grip, his signature grin on his handsome face, crimson eyes shining. "I don't think you'd die that easily a second time. And besides, I have actual proper serious business this time."
You step out of the hug. Giving him an indignant look as he gets distracted with your room, he walks to your wall, stepping over the bag he brought with him and begins making what can only be described as his 'Lucifer Impression' in your mirror, which was essentially him scrunching up his face so he looked constipated then waggling his ring adorned finger in disapproval.
"You're here for serious reasons. You?"
"Well you didn't have to say it like that." Michael remarked, turning around to face you so fast you get whiplash, so does Michael apparently. His golden curls had been done up in intricate braids, with rose gold braiding rope helping to keep half of it up and away from his face, he'd added jewels and gems in charms hanging from the braids themselves, a fact he seemed to have forgotten until, with the force and speed he twisted his head at, his hair swung back and then forward again, hitting him right square in the mouth. You snorted.
He glares at you. "Don't laugh! Do you know how long I had to sit still for to get these?! 12 hours! I am so lucky I'm not tender-headed!"
"Holy fuck?! 12 hours?! And now they're attempting to assassinate you." You nod dutifully, "Atleast they're pretty."
"Pretty is the least they could be. Especially when Raphael almost poked my eye out when he was measuring the braiding rope. So not only is my hair trying to assassinate me, so is Raphael!" Michael said, sitting on your bed cross-legged, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in his white gold accented blazer suit that looked suspiciously similar to Lucifer's. Damn twins.
You paused. "Raphael does your hair?"
Michael smiles, "Oh yeah! It's his secret hobby! So don't tell anyone!" The Archangel closes his eyes, as if imagining an era long passed. "He saw me and Lucikins trying to do Lilith's hair once and was sold."
You don't comment on the dopey expression. Michael continues. "Raphael never liked playing most games. He's like Lucikins in that way. They both think they're so grown up....He was normally with Simeon writing their little short stories together, seeing as they're both the nerdiests nerds of all the nerds...but he did see the end result of me and Luci braiding flowers into Lilith's hair...we did it with Asmo too, to cheer him after he nearly fell through a cloud. Cue the next day, Raphael asking to do my hair. Being the amazing big brother I was- I accepted!" Michael makes a face. "I think that was the first time I felt true fear."
You laughed evilly. "I should do your hair sometime."
The way Michael looks at you is akin to a deer in headlights. "Absolutely not. One adorable maniac obsessed with spears doing my hair is enough for me thank you very much. I do not need two."
"What if Luke asked?" You tilt your head.
"Jokes on you MC! Luke already likes to do my hair! He puts clips and flowers and bows and all in it!" Michael sticks out his tongue.
"Oh I cannot wait to see that." You grin.
Michael gives you another look, with his ruby red eyes looking so disapprovingly, the resemblance between his younger brother, (by two whole minutes!; he'd add gloatingly at any other time) is uncanny.
You put your hands up defensively. Deciding changing the topic would be a good idea seeing as you would like to not die a second time, (technically a third if you count Belphie.) so, you tilt your head. "You never told me what you were actually doing here."
"Oh yeah!" Michael nods. "Thanks for reminding me." He moves to grab the bag from the center of the room where he appeared. You forgot about that bag.
"Michael I swear to God if you've put a live pigeon in there I'm going to scream." You whisper frightendly.
The Archangel arks his head up to you in a flash, wincing when a braid hits him across the mouth again. He raises an eyebrow. "No? Why would I have a pigeon?"
You sigh in relief. "I had a dream last night that Pigeons caused the Second Coming of Christ."
Michael chuckled. "Second Coming of Christ doesn't exist, MC. I just got bored while John of Patmos was writing the Book of Revelation. Thought it'd be nice to set up for a sequel."
You blink. "How are you not a demon?"
"I dunno. Didn't really feel like it at the time. The lack of sunlight in the Devildom makes me depressed. Plus I'd rather not take vitamin D pills, it seems like so much work." Michael shrugged.
Made sense. "So what's in the bag?"
Michael grins excitedly, if he had a tail it would be wagging like a helicopter and knocking everything in your room that wasn't nailed to the surfaces down. "Well! My most amazingest underling! Can you tell me what date it is?"
"June 5th?"
"Which as you know, is the eve of the best and worst day in history."
You raise a brow. "Best and worst?"
"Best because it's the day I was born, worst because 2 minutes later my lovely adorable little baby brother was born." He laughs.
"If Lucifer ever heard you calling him your lovely adorable little baby brother I think he'd start a war."
"How do you think the War of the Bucket started?"
"Excuse me?"
Michael doesn't answer any of your questions, and instead chooses to finally show what's in the bag. A gnome.
Not just any gnome oh no. One that looked suspiciously like it was made by the same person who made the suspiciously bad looking gnome that looked like Michael that Mammon would hide the spare key to the backdoor of the House of Lamentation behind.
This one however did not have Michael's dark skin, or the horrible neon yellow hair painted on. Oh no, this one had pale skin, another DnD-esque cape on, except with the vampire looking collar, it had black hair with shiny metalic silver streaks in it. So that was the gnome Michael was torturing.
You hold back your laughter. "...Why?..."
"It's a birthday gift MC, you know? the things people give to other people on their birthdays? I mean you look a bit dim, you might not've heard of it."
"Did you-" You try to hold back your cackling. "Did you use clay-" You nearly double over, suddenly your knees feel quite weak. "Did you use clay to...-make Lucifer's ears...-massive?-"
"Why yes I did, and thank you for noticing!"
"Kind of hard not to notice them."
Michael grins, "Wanna help me sneak it into his office?"
You perk up. "Do I ever?!"
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Lucifer always finds himself quite melancholy on his birthday. Somehow the date always enjoys to remind him of his first brother. Not that he doesn't miss the idiots he lives with now. If he looks at Satan attempting to annoy him every waking hour in enough of a squint, it almost feels as if Michael is in the Devildom.
Speaking of; it really feels like Michael is in the Devildom today.
Lucifer shrugs it off. As it was his birthday he allowed himself a lie-in. Barbatos had eased his workload for the surrounding week, something Lucifer was quite grateful of.
Sighing, he walked slowly from the kitchen, coffee cup in hand; he might as well get his paperwork done now so he can spend the rest of the day with his loved ones before maybe he'd let Cerberus out of the underground tomb and into his room to sit by him whilst he listened to cursed records and enjoyed a finely aged bottle of demonus. (Not that Cerberus was a pet! Or that he was pampered! He was purely a guard dog! Stop suggesting otherwise Simeon, Barbatos, Diavolo and probably even Michael! Lucifer was not soft!)
The planning of what was essentially his day off was just prolonged enough that he was snapped out of his thoughts once he reached the door to his office.
Upon opening it, he wished he hadnt.
Atop his desk sits the most blasphemous rendition of him he's ever seen, that's including every lifetime christian movie that thinks he and Satan are the same person.
The gnome wasn't hand crafted but it was certainty hand-edited. It was an ugly thing, though, the more Lucifer looked at it, the more innocently charming it became, but in an ugly way.
He'd place it beside the Michael Gnome tonight, at least the ugly blasphemous gnome version of himself could be with his ugly blasphemous twin's gnome version of himself.
As he went to move it off of his desk, he noticed the note attached to the gnome's leg.
To my adorable little baby brother,
Lucifer's eye twitched. Had Michael still not learnt to call him that? Even after the War of the Bucket?! Even after the Emu War?! He was going to rip that Angel's head clean off.
You're so lucky to share a birthday with me! How unfortunate you were a late show, tut tut tut. Should've been born quicker, Lucikins. :o
Lucifer's wings and horns popped out. 'Lucikins?' That nickname again? Oh, Michael was a dead man.
I know you'll love my present. The gnome looks just like you! Though sadly, I ran out of clay so I couldn't make the ears any bigger.
Unconsciously, Lucifer reached up to cover his ears, but caught himself. Damned Michael! Their ears are literally the same size! He takes a deep breath.
Anyway, happy birthday my adorable, squishy cheeked, starry eyed, little baby brother! Maybe one day you'll grow up to be big and strong just like your big bro! Lots of Love to my baby brother: Michael xoxo
Lucifer felt rage course through his body at such a rate, he had to turn around to make sure he didn't pop out another Satan. Thank Diavolo he didn't. If he did, Michael was taking them home.
Fine. If Michael wanted to hide in the Devildom, call his ears big, and then insist that Lucifer was his 'baby brother' despite the fact he was barely even two minutes older!--then Lucifer wasn't going to sit idly by.
He takes his DDD out of his pocket. Cue the dramatic music.
"Hello, Luke? Can you pass the phone to Simeon please? Yes Thank you." Lucifer pauses, hearing rustling and then finally Simeon's voice on the other end of the DDD. "Hello Simeon. How would you like to travel with me to the Celestial Realm, I fear I haven't been in a while."
Simeon pauses. "...Why?..."
Lucifer swallows thickly, a smirk overtaking his features. "I'm planning on paying Michael a visit."
"He gave you another gnome didn't he?"
"...Okay. Goodbye Simeon."
"No way...He did!"
"Goodbye Simeon." By the time Lucifer hangs up, he can hear the angel laughing on the other end of the phone.
The Avatar of Pride sits down on his chair, covering his face in his hands he grinned. Oh he is so going to enjoy getting Michael back for this one.
And hey, if a few garden flamingos with golden wigs and DnD-esque capes are sighted around the celestial realm later on today. What a coincidence!
Lucifer chuckles heartily. He missed this.
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Just as the Avatar of pride is resting, a knock sounds on his door.
"Come in." He sighs, eyes lighting up slightly when he sees that it's you. "Oh hello, Dearest."
You approach his desk, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, smiling slightly when you feel his face heat up. "Happy birthday Luci...wanna come on a walk with me?"
"Sure. Let me grab my coat."
And so it goes.
After about twenty minutes of walking through the park hand in hand with Lucifer, you stop at a fountain. "Woah is that fish in there?"
"Hmm?" Lucifer looks over to you.
"Luci can you see fish in the fountain? I think my mind is playing tricks on me..."
Lucifer raises a brow, but always willing to please you, he looks into the fountain, some strands of ebony hair falling over his face at the movement.
"There aren't any fish, MC...I think you might need sleep-" Lucifer drawls as he begins to turn around to face you. Stopping abruptly when he sees you down on one knee, a ring in your hand.
"MC..." He says breathlessly, heart thumping out of his chest.
"Lucifer, the Morningstar, the Avatar of Pride...will you make me the happiest being in all three realms and marry me?"
"MC...I-...You...-...Yes, I'd carve the word into my flesh if I had to..."
You grin, tears welling up in your eyes as you take off Lucifer's glove and slide the ring onto his finger. He helps you up and pulls you into his arms. Face buried into your neck.
"This will mean that you're mine...just like our pact..." He smiles into your collarbone, placing small kisses here and there.
You laugh. "Sure, Luci sure."
Two lovers hold each other in a gentle embrace, witnessed only by themselves and the moon. No granduer, no dramatic announcement, just lying about fish in a fountain.
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i cant write proposals BUT as a special birthday bonus: the gnomes.
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i was originally just gonna do lucifer but they're twins so I had to do both of them.
in the original fic with the michael gnome i said he had neon hair but i have no idea how to neonify hair and am not an artist so L, have cursed gnomes.
as you can see i can colour inside the lines. and also i hate the fill tool.
before we start:
yes i am posting this on the 5th and i do know that Luci's birthday is the 6th, but i got this done early and have the patience of a child on christmas😔✊
yes derek and eric are dumb stereotypes. everyday im amazed that baseball is literally just rounders with a different name and more theatrics. anyway, i enjoy writing americans the way americans write us. i picked illinois because thats the first state that popped into my head, and also its easy to spell so.
im friends with like three people from canada and im scared of all of them.
anyway grma for reading and i promise the next fic i do for someones birthday i will actually include them in it more.😔✊<3
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millie-multifics · 4 months ago
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In Another Life
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Firefighter!Eddie Munson x Potential Reader
Eddie builds a better life far away from all the misfortune of Hawkins.
Warnings: Mentions of injuries, death and conspiracies.
Word Count: ~1k
Masterlist
Just a little thought I had. I’m open to continuing it if there is interest.
x x x
Much of Hawkins remained blissfully unaware of Vecna’s final emergence and his beasts in the Upside Down, though a certain group of teenagers and their parents were forced to face the tattered remains left in the wake.
Though Eddie had not faced the Upside Down nearly as many times as the people he now considered his closest friends and valued acquaintances, his already challenged life had taken a nose dive right into interdemensial dirt and ash.
The government had edited the narrative from the first precieved notion of Eddie being responsible for the heinous murder of Chrissy Cunningham and others to point the blame to the deceased Jason Carver, even putting in the detail of Max and Eddie being attempted victims to explain away their injuries.
Though Eddie’s life had been less than luxurious before, most of citizens of Hawkins had continued to shun him, not believing the goverment spun web of lies.
Eddie had not dare left the trailer for over a month when Uncle Wayne had sat him down, encouring his beloved nephew to escape the cruel borders of the small town. Wayne had assured Eddie that leaving did not mean he was running from his problems, just looking for peace of mind and the opportunity to shop for groceries without mothers dragging their children out of the store in horror at the sight of him.
Steve had given into his nepotistic expectations, accepting a job at his fathers dealership as a car salesman. His first action of business was buying Eddies beatup van for a lot more than it was worth. Steve was quite nearly fired that same evening when his father discovered the new eyesore on the lot that no one would ever spend a penny on, nevermind $5,000.
The money had gotten Eddie across state lines to Illinois, specifically Chicago where he found himself an older apartment and anonymity. Here his misfortunes had not earned a five page feature in the newspaper, his story and face hadn’t even warranted the front page. He had found a job as a Bartender at an establishment called “Stones Throw” in the middle of the city. Reggie, the owner had interviewed Eddie on the spot. He only had two questions- did Eddie have any bartending experience? And if the obvious metal head could handle listening to different genres of music for hours on end without blowing a gasket? Eddie had debated lying about his lack of serving experience but ultimately was truthful and he could only promise that he would try his very best not to pop his top at patrons jukebox choices. He wasn’t exactly sure why but Reggie hired him on the spot.
Stones Throw is where he met the people who would help change his life for the better. Lacey, the truest example he had ever seen of the term tiny but mighty, she had a glare that had any rowdy patron fleeing before the bouncer even had a chance to toss them out. She had convinced Eddie to seek out a program to finally complete his GED, and she helped him study every night behind the bar. Her elder brother, Joey, frequented the establishment with his fellow Firefighters and their shared love for D&D made them fast friends. It took two years but the O’Ryan siblings had convinced Eddie that he should explore the possibility of becoming a Firefighter as he had the passion and potential to thrive in the field. Joey started inviting Eddie along to the gym, knowing the average build of the metalhead would not equate during training. Eddie slowly began filling out his black uniform t-shirt in a way that drew in plenty of female attention, something he avoided since intimate company meant revealing the deep scars that spanned across his torso from the Demobats sinking their sharp talons into his soft flesh.
The required medical examination had nearly jeopardized Eddie’s eligibility to join the program. The physician concerned with the scars that sunk deep into his tissue. He had fought hard against the comprehension, volunteering to do test after test until the doctor could no longer question his capabilities. Eddie fought the burning in his lungs and the ache in his joints again and again until his body grew used to the physical work. Wayne sat proudly in the first row on the day Eddie graduated from the academy, his other friends from Hawkins occupying a small section in the middle. The Stones Throw was packed full that evening, a party to celebrate Eddie’s success took over the bar. It was the first time in years that all the people who Eddie loved were gathered in one place. A feeling much deeper than content settled in his chest as he watched new and old seemlessly merge into one. Henderson, Wheeler, Byers and Sinclair were talking over each other to give Joey the fill on their D&D characters as he would be joining them for their reunion session the next day. Steve leaned on the bar, completely smitten with everything that was Lacey O’Ryan. Wayne and Reggie shared a table, no doubt sharing stories of Eddie’s shit disturbing tendencies. Robin argued with Max about which song would be played on the Jukebox next, Eddie was tempted to hide the cup of quarters placed next to the machine so he didn’t have to hear another Madonna song.
“For one night and one night only, please welcome to this very humble stage… Corroded Coffin!”
In that moment Eddie thought he had finally made it in life. He was starting a good career, his life was full to the brim with people who loved him and he was finally back on stage for the first time since discovering the Upside Down.
The guitar strings rumbled under his fingertips, a bead of sweat rolled down the nape of his neck as his wild curls swung around his shoulders then his dark eyes met yours across the room and he knew there was just one thing missing from his life.
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the-blind-assassin-12 · 1 year ago
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Aphelion - 11
Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand
*Please be sure to consider all chapter warnings before reading! Warnings will be updated for each chapter in individual posts as well as on the Masterlist.
Warnings: language, discussion of the past, mentions of violence, blood and death, mention of self-harm, NSFW, vampirism, biting
Word Count: 16,754
Summary: Oberyn has already told you that it's been 400 years since he last used his mark of protection on someone that he cared about, but when you learn why he stopped using it - and how that decision has shaped his life since then - it sheds new light on what it means that he used it on you. And so does what happens after he shares this with you.
The plan for dealing with the Lannisters is in place, and preparations continue throughout the week - until Toban and Tyene surprise you with something unexpected but extremely welcome.
A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN FROM @something-tofightfor & I! We hope that your spooky season is full of fun, treats, and just the right amount of scares. We also hope that you all enjoy this mega-packed chapter! This story continues to be so much fun for us to work on, and we're both really excited about this update and what's still to come. Thank you from the bottoms of our hearts to everyone who has interacted with this story - your comments and reactions make us very happy ghouls.
Also, if you have questions about details or plot points or the way that Westerosi history/world fits into the “real” world- please ask! We don’t want to confuse anyone.
Catch up with the Aphelion masterlist here!
(banner by @valkblue )
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It took him more than a few seconds to gather his thoughts, but Oberyn’s hold on you never wavered. You stared out and over the city, the lights glittering in the distance, and you let yourself think again about everything that had happened in the previous hours. No, not just hours … days. 
But unlike Oberyn, you didn’t think silently. 
“I’m not sure if you know this, but …” Closing your eyes, you took a long breath. “If it wasn’t for Golden Lion and my job, I’d probably be in some shitty little apartment in the Midwest right now.” He hummed in response but didn’t speak, one of his hands moving slowly back and forth over your stomach. “I knew what I wanted to do with my life when I was a teenager, but I never really thought that I’d get hired by a company like theirs right out of college.” 
“They did something right, at least.” You snorted at his words, his irritation barely masked by amusement. “Was Golden Lion the first place you’ve worked?” 
“It was my first full time adult job, yeah. I did an internship with them my senior year of college and I guess they were impressed, but …” You shrugged. “They had more than 100 candidates apply for three open positions so I figured I’d get a “thanks but no thanks” letter after a few weeks and started applying to museums and historical programs in places like Michigan and Illinois and Ohio. But instead … I got a job offer with a relocation assistance stipend.” 
It had been one of the best days of your life, and even though you’d learned that Golden Lion - and the Lannisters especially - weren’t the people you’d thought they were, your time at the company had been worthwhile. It taught me so much and it brought me here. 
“They do have a knack for recruiting people with talent.” He sighed, lowering his lips to your shoulder again. “It is an annoying thing that has been true since … well, since the beginning.” 
You felt him smiling and you did, too, still staring out into the darkness. “I had a choice between working in New York, London, one of the Westeros office locations, or here.”
“And you chose California.” He kissed the side of your neck, breathing the next words into your ear. “The City of Angels.” You rolled your eyes every time Los Angeles was referred to that way, but when Oberyn said it, it had the opposite effect on you. I am a walking cliche when it comes to him. 
“I did. Westeros was tempting, just because of everything it would have allowed me to see, but I decided it was too far away for something that I didn’t know if I’d get to do for long. In London I would have been in a really small office and that wasn’t appealing. New York was …” You wrinkled your nose, even though he couldn’t see it. Never New York. “But California? I figured that even if the job didn’t work out, I’d have the beach. And then I met Nora and her friends and it turned out I really liked what I did for work - and most of my coworkers.” You spun to face him, finding that you were blinking back tears. 
You knew it was selfish - that after everything the Lannisters had done to the Martells and to the people Oberyn loved, you had no right to be so upset over something as trivial as your job. But it was important to me. It was a huge part of my life. Everything I worked for. 
“And I think that’s what the worst part of this is. Even though there were always ulterior motives to what they had me doing, it was … I liked it. I liked working for Golden Lion. I learned so much. I met so many people and worked on so many great projects, and …” You glanced up, lips pressed together. “And then I met you, and I realized that I knew so damn much, but I really knew nothing, even after all this time.” 
“Meeting me was the worst part?” He was teasing you, but when you met his eyes you saw concern in them, Oberyn barely concealing a frown as he watched you. “I don’t think that anyone has ever been so bold as to -” That made you laugh, both of your hands coming up to cover your face and wipe some of the tears away. 
“Yes, Oberyn. The worst. I meet an unreasonably hot man that just so happens to be the literal embodiment of every fantasy I’ve ever had in my entire life at a bar. Then two weeks later I’m standing with him on the balcony of a penthouse apartment so fucking nice that I have no business being anywhere near it. Oh, and I’m also wearing a mark of protection from him on my neck that means that he chose me, and -” 
Oberyn moved before you’d even registered it, gathering you in his arms and holding you tight against his chest, face turned down so that he could kiss the top of your head. “I do see how that might be terrible.” Inhaling deeply, you let yourself cry for a few seconds, Oberyn’s arms locked in place. “But you need to look at me.” 
You did, pulling back enough so that you could meet his gaze. The playfulness was still there, but Oberyn’s mood had shifted again, the man mostly serious. “What?” 
“You can’t blame yourself for not knowing the truth. Not many people do. Even those that are like me aren’t … they do not all come from Westeros, or have the same vendettas that we do. And even I have to admit, the things that the Lannisters have done to remain relevant throughout the years … it is impressive. It is even more impressive because like I said, they attract talented people, which means their relevancy lasts.” 
“Yeah, but it’s just �� a cover. They used people like me to try and find you, Oberyn. You and your family, and -”
“But think about it.” He loosened his grip on you, taking a half step back and urging you to back up and against the low railing. “How much did you learn? How much did you archive? How much will the records you created teach others? Yes, the end goal was for Lannister benefit, but overall, you’ve done more good for Westeros than you know.” He reached up, fingers curling against your neck so that he could press his thumb to the mark he’d put there. It sent a tingle of heat through you, your lips parting and feet shuffling toward him, both hands rising so that you could grip his shirt. “You know now. And if… when this goes according to plan, I’m sure Tyrion will have no problem getting you back to your position, if that’s what you want. This plan will make him mortal, but getting rid of the rest of the Lannisters puts him at the head of the company by name and lineage, and I do not think that he will mind doing a small favor for me.” 
You hadn’t even thought of that - of the possibility that after everything was done, you could go back. But I’ll need to work. I don’t have thousands of years worth of finances saved somewhere, and I can’t pay my rent here without a job. “We’ll see. We need to get through the next …. When is the wedding again?” 
“The engagement party is next weekend. The wedding follows soon after. They are apparently following the Westerosi custom of the party being used as a lead-in to the main event, but that works in our favor.” 
“Yeah, there’s so much going on no one can have eyes everywhere.” You sighed, closing your eyes. “Thank you for talking me down, Oberyn. I’m sorry I -”
“You never need to apologize to me.” He said your name, the man’s thumb and forefinger tilting your chin up so that you could see his wink. “For anything. I understand what you are going through, and I understand how much your life has changed.” Flattening your hands against his belly, you nodded and then took a deep breath. 
“If you say so. But I need to stop getting sidetracked. We have a lot to talk about and -” You were interrupted by the rumble of your stomach, Oberyn’s eyes immediately dropping at the sound. Shit. Of course he can hear that, he -
“When was the last time you ate?” He tweaked your chin, his smile widening. “It sounds like it’s been a while.” 
“I had some fruit while we talked to Tyrion, but it’s been … hours? Lunch, maybe? I don’t…remember.” You trailed off, frowning. Since the night of the Halloween party, your dining habits had been less than regular. The fact that no one in your company  ate at typical times wasn’t helping, either. “I should have something, though. Or else I won’t be able to sleep tonight.” 
“Stay here.” He nodded twice. “I’ll get you something and then… I’ll tell you about Cameron and Toban.” 
He disappeared back into the apartment, the door closing softly behind him. Once he was gone, you turned back to the railing, gripping it with both hands. You’d wasted time complaining about your job, but not too much, and you knew that even though it was late, there were still hours before sunrise. And he’ll want to stay out here as long as possible. 
Your head swirled with bits of information - what you knew about the Lannisters and the Martells, what you knew about Oberyn and Ellaria’s bond, the vow that Oberyn had made to himself the moment he’d been turned and learned what happened when someone turned others. And you knew that no matter how much time you had to understand it, it would never be enough. Unless that eternity that Toban mentioned is possible. That might be … 
Swiping one hand over your face, you hung your head, opening your eyes so that you could watch the cars on the street far below you. Tyene had offered to change you if you wanted it. Toban’s willingness to step in when necessary had already been tested, but you had a feeling that if he attempted the same thing a second time, even Ellaria’s interference wouldn’t protect him from Oberyn. But I don’t want either of those options. If it’s not Oberyn… it’s no one. 
Linking your fingers together, you stared out and over the city, weight resting on your forearms. Four hundred years is a long time, even for him. And it sounds like Cameron was incredibly important to him but he still wouldn’t … he didn’t even use his mark, he … “It’s late, so I figured you didn’t want anything heavy.” 
Turning at the sound of his voice, you watched as he held up a plate with one hand, a bottle of water held in his curled fingers and a stainless steel bottle tucked under his other arm. “A sandwich? Did you make this? Or was it -”
“I might have been a prince in a past life, and not need to eat in this one, but I know my way around a kitchen.” He grinned as he set everything down on the small table before unfolding the blanket laying atop the outdoor couch. “Come here.” 
You did, stepping in front of him - and when Oberyn draped the material over your shoulders, he used the ends of the blanket to pull you closer, ducking his head down to press a kiss to your lips. That kiss was longer than the last one on the rooftop, but he still broke it much too quickly, stepping back and gesturing for you to sit. “Thank you for … dinner? A midnight snack? Whatever this is, I’m going to inhale it.” 
“Good.” He sat next to you, rolling the container he held between both of his hands. “I hope it is alright with you if I … also eat.” Your eyes flicked from the sandwich in your hand to the bottle in his, both brows shooting up in understanding. Blood. There’s blood in there, and he didn’t want me to see it while he drank. 
“Of course. Eat.” You took a bite, chewing to give yourself a few extra seconds before speaking again. “Oberyn, you don’t have to worry about that with me. I understand what … you are, and what you need.” Elbowing him, you turned your head to look at the man. “And I’ve already seen you at your worst with Clegane, right? So it -”
“That wasn’t anywhere near my worst.” Flipping the straw up on his bottle, Oberyn sipped from it, staring straight ahead. “But yes, you have briefly seen the worst parts of me.” Your stomach dropped at his words, but part of you wasn’t surprised. He’s been alive for 2,000 years, and he thinks… Oh, Oberyn. “I know that you are expecting to hear about Cameron. But to tell you about Cameron, I need to go back much further.” He sipped again, eyes closing as he swallowed. “To Isabel. To before Isabel. I need to tell you why I stopped offering my protection to the humans I cared for.” 
His voice changed as he spoke the woman’s name, and it only took moments for you to figure out who she was. But instead of interrupting, you continued to eat your sandwich, scooting marginally closer to him while you chewed. It took a few seconds, but Oberyn laid an arm over your shoulders, his fingers closing around the far one and squeezing. I’m listening, Oberyn. 
“When Ellaria turned me, I knew that I wouldn’t get my revenge right away. I knew that it could take time, but I never thought … I never thought thousands of years would pass.” He paused, head shaking from side to side slowly. “The longer I waited, the more I needed to do to fill my days. By the time I was given the sunlight again, Ellaria and I were far from Westeros. My immediate relatives were long gone, and there was no sign of the right Lannisters. She took me to Greece and within a year I… we met someone.” 
You weren’t surprised - Oberyn’s magnetism had been well documented in all of the ancient texts that you’d seen, and you imagined that given the opportunity to meet new people in new places, it hadn’t been any different. 
“But it was short lived, because… I wasn’t careful enough. Her association with Ellaria and I put a target on her head, and she was … she was killed because of it. She was killed and we had to leave, and it was only then that Ellaria explained the process of marking someone for safety.”
“Oh, Oberyn.” Wincing, you reached over and squeezed his knee. “I’m so sorry.” He lost someone else, almost right away. I can’t… 
“I was too. And from there …” He laughed, but the sound was sad. “From there, I admit that I treated offering my mark in the same way I lived as a man - in excess. Even Ellaria questioned me at times, but it was the way I coped. I could not have the revenge I wanted, and losing more people that I cared about was not an option. So for a few hundred years, I … marked my partners. I kept them close without thinking twice, but I never hesitated to step away from them when it became clear that Cersei and Tywin and the fucking Mountain were back, or when they demanded too much of me.” 
“Oberyn, I …” You didn’t know what else to say - especially since up until that conversation, you’d assumed he’d always been selective about who he offered protection to. But I was wrong. 
“Many of them asked to become like me, and I denied all of them - most of them without explanation.” He took another drink, pausing before he set the bottle down on the table. “Losing them of natural causes became almost routine for me. Eight. Ten. Twelve. It was not easy to say goodbye, but I was not heartbroken in the same way I was when the first was taken. Finally, Ellaria pulled me aside, and she let me know what she thought.” 
“What did she think?” Curling your legs beneath you, you leaned against Oberyn’s side. “It doesn’t seem like she would have said anything unless she felt strongly about it.”
“You are correct.” Glancing up, you saw that he was smiling - that expression a fonder one. “She told me that the mark was meant to be a symbol of honor, and an indication that the person who wore it was special. She said she’d never try to tell me how to live my second life, but that unless I used that ability with some discretion, it was … meaningless. That in our community, the mark had come to symbolize intent, and I was treating it like giving someone a worthless trinket. I hadn’t ever thought of it that way.” 
“Were you two together all that time? I know that Makers don’t always stay with their Children, but you and Ellaria are … different.” 
“No. She stayed with me for a long time, but once she was certain I would be alright on my own, we separated. We’d see each other … well, to us, it was frequently, but to you, it probably isn’t.” He started moving his hand up and down on your arm, Oberyn shifting so that you could move even closer. “She made a special trip to tell me what she thought about me using my mark, though. And afterward … I slowed down. I slowed down and I realized that there was no point in protecting people in that way. It  was only for my benefit. It didn’t offer them anything in the end.”
Unconsciously, you reached up, touching the space on your neck that bore his sigil. Something changed again. Ellaria and Tyene and Toban’s reactions were real. This isn’t just a mark, it’s… more. 
“It’s not possible for me to be emotionless; I’m sure you know that. But I … stopped letting myself get so attached. I stopped settling in places long term. I kept moving. I focused on my eventual revenge instead of on immediate pleasure, and instead of one or two people a century wearing my mark and knowing what I was, more and more time passed between each one. I kept my own secret, and didn’t linger long enough for people to start asking questions.” 
“You must have been lonely.” Swallowing hard, you closed your eyes. “Even with Ellaria and the Others that you came into contact with, it must have been so hard.” 
“It was. But it got easier each year. The difficult part came when the questions about me making a Child started coming, and I had to explain my reasoning for not turning anyone.” 
“That’s nobody’s business, though.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s like people questioning why someone like me isn’t trying to have a baby, or hinting that time is running out, or making the assumption that you can’t be happy unless you’re a parent. That’s a personal choice, Oberyn, and even though I’m kind of relieved to know it isn’t just humans who think that’s their business, it’s still awful of them to question you like that.” 
“The thing is, that my reason for not turning anyone is … hypothetical. Yes, most of us pass our strongest traits on when we change someone, but it isn’t set in stone that it happens.” He removed his arm from around you and then leaned forward, picking up the thermos  again and taking a long pull from it. You caught a whiff of copper, biting your lip at the scent, but before you could say anything, he continued. “Even Ellaria started to hint that there would be nothing wrong with me changing someone and potentially passing something along, but she never pushed. And after those conversations - after seeing her and Toban and meeting others like us and their first Children, I began to see the appeal… and I started using my mark again. Sparingly, but … just in case. Just to let everyone know that someone was off limits.” 
“But you never acted.” He flipped the straw down and let the bottle go, leaning back. “Even though you were close.” 
“I was.” He sighed. “Sort of.” Without warning, Oberyn pulled you onto his lap, strong arms holding you against his chest though you were still wrapped in the blanket. “I met Isabel while I waited for Ellaria to arrive for a visit, and there was … something about her. A connection between us that was immediate. I fell for her and offered her my protection. She accepted, and asked if … if it was possible that we could be together forever.” 
“You considered it.” You looked up at him, watching as Oberyn nodded slowly. “Because if Ellaria thought you were going to choose between Tyene and Isabel, you must have been much closer than before.” 
“I was.” He met your gaze then, the line between his brows deep as he frowned. “But I made the mistake of telling her that it was in fact a possibility, and she … assumed.” Oh, no. “And with that assumption, our relationship changed. I loved her. The idea of … forever with her was not unappealing, but …” 
“She thought a maybe was a definitely.” He nodded again and then winced when he looked away, like he was remembering actually living the experience. “Did she know about your past? About the Lannisters and your family?” 
“She did. And at first, she told me that she understood my need for vengeance, even though she hadn’t ever seen or heard of the Lannisters before me. But as more time passed, I think … it became clear to her just how focused on that goal I was. I spent as much time with her as I could, but I was also with Ellaria and Tyene, making plans. It had been a long time since Cersei and Tywin had shown their faces so we thought it was probably coming. And when I reminded Isabel that there was a chance that I would turn her and our time together would be short because I did what needed to be done and did not survive, she …” 
He lifted a hand a rubbed slowly at his jaw, still staring out at the city. You’d thought that Oberyn’s reasons for not turning the woman had been simple, but the previous few minutes had proven otherwise. And I think it’s going to get worse. 
“She did not take it well. She said that Ellaria encouraging my revenge quest for over a thousand years was not a good idea. She said that if I kept it up, I would only do more harm to myself and the people I cared about. She said that once I turned her, I would understand that there was more to my life than the need to remove the Lannisters from the world. And that was … the last thing I needed to hear. Especially since Ellaria had been the one encouraging me to make an offer to Isabel in the first place.” 
“I’ve said a lot of stupid things in my life, Oberyn, but none of them have been as stupid as telling you Ellaria was a bad influence on you.” He smiled at that but it was still sad, his hold on you tightening. “That wouldn’t have been a good start to Isabel’s new life.”
“No. And as much as I loved her, Ellaria’s presence was … is… always going to factor into my decisions. I will never compromise on that, no matter how many years I walk this Earth, or who I choose to have beside me.” And you shouldn’t have to. Ellaria isn’t just your Maker. She’s … everything to you. “Isabel didn’t take that well, and she definitely didn’t take me telling her that I’d chosen not to turn her because of her feelings about Ellaria well, either.” 
He stopped speaking, and you watched the emotions pass across his features, his face more expressive than you’d ever seen it before. He tightened his jaw and then loosened it before finally looking down at you with another frown on his face that sent a shallow ache through your chest. “Are you -”
“Give me a second. This is not easy for me.” He closed his eyes and then turned toward you, kissing you on the forehead and lingering there. “I left her and went back to Ellaria and Tyene full time. I refused to turn Tyene because that girl deserved better than to be someone’s second choice, and Ellaria was far more equipped to handle her transformation than I was.” He spoke without pulling back, his lips brushing over your skin with each word. “But curiosity got the better of me, and after a little while, I went back to check in on Isabel, and she …” 
You felt it before you saw it - the warmth of Oberyn’s tears falling against your skin. Without thinking twice, you slipped an arm around his back and the other under his shoulder, turning your head so that you could press your cheek to his chest. Whatever he’s going to say next is going to be awful. 
“She cut my mark from her skin.”
You closed your eyes as the ache in your heart deepened. Without realizing it, you tightened your hold on him, fingers digging into his skin. You were expecting it to be bad given the way he was struggling to get through this part of the story. But that’s horrible. I can’t even imagine… 
Your thoughts trailed off as he continued. “She said if I wouldn’t choose her, she didn’t want the safety my mark brought her. Since she could not see it, she… What she did to herself, it… her arm was … mutilated. The wound … it … it became infected, and the infection spread. She refused to let me do anything about it.” He paused again, and when he spoke, you heard the tremble in his voice. “She was too weak to get out of bed, but she was strong enough to tell me that all she’d done was make sure that I didn’t have to wait around for years to watch her die of old age since I wouldn’t give her a forever.” 
“Oh, Oberyn.” Your blood ran cold at his words, and you knew that he’d heard your sharp intake of breath. “That’s… how could someone do that to you?” You knew that he’d loved the woman, but you thought she’d been selfish - especially when it came to Ellaria. And if she knew what avenging his family meant, she just tried to manipulate him. And that’s even worse. 
“I don’t know. But she did die, and despite what she’d done, it … hurt to lose her. Before you, she was the last person I placed under my protection.” He sniffed, saying your name. “For four hundred years, there hasn’t been anyone else I have wanted to protect. Not even Cameron. Not even when I knew his life was in danger. Because the memory of Isabel - and what she believed that mark would eventually mean was so strong.” 
He used one hand to ease your head away from his chest, tilting it to the side so that he could stare at the skin of your throat, leaving you to wonder at his thoughts. Do you regret it? Do you wish you’d asked? Do you wish you’d waited?
“Our marks of protection are all slightly different, but they all require …” He smiled briefly, raising his thumb so that the ring caught some of the light. “The right components.” You’d wanted to ask about the process but didn’t know how - especially since you didn’t have a clue where to start, so you were glad that he brought it up on his own. “It can be made from any metal, but most of us that are … ancient choose gold. It is melted down by an elder, and then some of our blood is added to the molten liquid. Even a few drops are powerful, which is why when I bit you, I pressed the sigil to your skin. I healed the space around it with my tongue, but… the metal itself healed that area… and since the metal bears the spear of House Martell… it remains on your skin, a visible reminder of just how important you are to me.” 
“I wish it was visible for me, especially after seeing Ellaria, Tyene and Toban’s reactions to it.” The words slipped out - and at the realization of their implication, you sat straight up, eyes wide. Oh, no. I didn’t mean to… Especially after what we just talked about. Now he’s going to think - 
“I wish you could see it too. But for right now … you can feel it.” He reached for you again, fingers trailing over your skin and sending heat throughout your body. And when he positioned his hand the same way he had the night he’d marked you, you gasped at the surge of warmth, the corners of his mouth lifting briefly as he gauged your reaction. “I’d almost forgotten what it feels like.” He leaned closer, curling his fingers slightly. “This is a good reminder.” Of what? 
There were plenty of ways to interpret his words, but you chose to take them at face value - that he was simply happy to be around someone that understood the significance of what he’d given them - and didn’t try to take things a step further or ask for clarification. Even though I want to, and he has to know it by now. “I’m glad something good came out of this mess.” Letting the blanket drop, you pulled one hand free, raking your fingers through his hair. “Even something small.” 
“It is not small, believe me.” He let go of your throat, his hand dropping to your shoulder and squeezing. “But I still have not told you about Cameron, and that’s what I promised to do.” 
“We don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow. I can sleep in.” He smiled at that, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “But yes. Tell me about him, please. And maybe something about Toban, too. Because -” 
“Toban means well. He always has. And while I wouldn’t call it jealousy, because it’s clear he would do anything for her, the connection that Ellaria has with him has … started to bother me more as the years pass.” He rolled his eyes. “Our gifts are another thing that isn’t guaranteed, but depending on your lineage, they’re more or less likely. With Ellaria, they are very likely, since she’s one of the first.” 
You’d assumed that to be the case about her age, but with the confirmation, you realized just how special your circumstances  were - and how lucky Oberyn was. Because she barely saved him. And so anyone younger might not have. 
“Ellaria can see the past via touch. Toban’s ability is to read situations and circumstances like no one I have ever met before. Tyene … well, she is able to convince anyone to do just about anything, and doesn’t hesitate to tell you what she thinks about it.” 
You grinned at the admission, lifting a brow. “I’m not surprised by that, especially after the way she greeted me for the first time.” 
He smiled, too, the man nodding. “Her treatment of you is how I knew she accepted you, but I was surprised that she did it as quickly as she did.” 
“I like her, Oberyn. I’m glad that Ellaria turned her. She fits well with the two of you…. And Toban.” Dropping your hands to settle them in your lap, you cocked your head to the side. “What is your gift, though? You must have one, if the three of them do.”
“Nothing as exciting as seeing the past or knowing the future or the power of persuasion.” He sighed, the rise and fall of his chest a strange sight. “My… gift is also somewhat of a curse. The depth of my humanity is what I carry with me, no matter how much I’ve tried to ignore it sometimes. Despite my hesitation when it comes to getting attached, when it happens … I cannot help the way it makes me feel… and act, when the situation calls for it.” 
“How is that a curse?” 
“I haven’t been a human in 2,000 years. At that age, most of us have long since forgotten what it’s like to experience things the same way humans do. But I have never been able to disassociate from that part of myself entirely. I’ve tried to, but it has never worked for long.” He closed his eyes, pausing. “And that brings me to Cameron.” 
“I’m going to stay quiet, Oberyn, and just let you talk. Because if I interrupt, I’ll -” 
“Thank you. There aren’t many that know this full story, so…” He slipped a hand under the blanket and then under your top, his large palm pressed to your side. “That will help.” 
You didn’t know what to expect when it came to the man’s story, but once he started speaking, you were enraptured - and wouldn’t have wanted to interject without his encouragement. 
“Ellaria and I have done many things throughout the years to earn a living, finding ways to adapt to the times at hand and use current events to our advantage. Some of the stories about our kind are true, but there are others that aren’t. For example, some of us are quite persuasive, like Tyene, but we can’t just … bend people’s minds to our will without a second thought. Luckily, by the time I was turned, Ellaria had already amassed quite a fortune that she kept secret. Her name may have been Sand then, yet she was anything but poor. Those funds, along with what I was able to take away from my own family’s vaults throughout the years were more than we needed.” 
He hummed, glancing down at you and then back out at the skyline, and you used the opportunity to take in his profile, parts of his face silhouetted in shadow, though it only made him more appealing. 
“At the time I met Cameron, Ellaria and I were operating a network of Speakeasies on the East Coast. It was good money, easy money. And it was simple for us to attract visitors, because almost everyone was looking for a place to drink and socialize where they could be themselves in every way.” 
You didn’t need clarification on that. When it came to Oberyn, excess was the norm, and he’d never been one to hide his true nature, or his desires. Sex and alcohol and freedom? People must have loved them back then. He stroked over your skin with his fingertips, humming low in his throat before he continued. 
“Cameron was … special. He visited one of our locations in The Bowery, and caught my eye from across the room. I had two beautiful women in my lap and he still devoured me with his gaze as though they were not there at all. His confidence was… alluring. He wasn’t shy about what he wanted, and I liked that. We began a relationship, and I quickly realized that I cared for him, despite promising myself that I would keep things … loose. I did travel a lot, between locations, and Ellaria often filled in in my absence, so he got to know her, too.” 
Oberyn lowered his head and rested it against yours, collecting himself. “Many like us came to America then, to take advantage of the rapidly expanding cities and the nightlife. There was a group - the one Toban told you about? From Braavos? They were also attempting to operate in the same market as we were, and it got … contentious.” 
You weren’t surprised because Toban had given you a heads up, but that didn’t make the story any easier to hear. He’s been through so much. He’s had to adapt over and over and it’s still happening. 
“I wanted to be sure that Cameron was safe, and since he knew what I was, it was a little easier. We trained together. He stayed close to me when I traveled. I told him what to look for when it came to potential attempts on his life. The sell swords attacked one of our clubs one night, burning it to the ground because they thought we were there … and that is when Cameron and I disappeared for a while. We needed to lay low, and it was during that time that he asked me to protect him with my mark. But I was hesitant, and you know why.” 
“I do.” You mumbled the words, agreeing. “And I know how hard it probably still was for you to tell him no.” 
“Punishing Cameron for Isabel’s behavior was unfair of me, and I know it. I knew it then, but that changed nothing. He asked me - repeatedly, why I would not protect him if I claimed to love him. All I could say was that I had never before used the mark as a last resort, and I didn’t want to start with him. There were many Others from Braavos, but they were clumsy, and I thought … I thought my presence would be enough. But Cameron got tired of me telling him no, and so he turned to Toban, who was spending a lot of time with Ellaria then, and one thing led to another.” 
“Would … would the bond he felt with Toban because of the mark have changed if you’d turned him later? How does that work?” 
“I do not know.” He shook his head, the man’s frown deepening. “For many, offering the mark is the precursor to offering them a second life. It is … I don’t think I have ever come across someone that is protected by one and a Child of another. But in Cameron’s case, it wouldn’t have mattered. He grew to resent me in the months following Toban’s decision, and his final request of me was just a last effort to make me choose.” 
“Were he and Toban -” 
“No, they were never together. Not to my knowledge, anyway. Toban marked him because time was running out, and it was either that or watch me lose someone else I cared for before I was ready, because they would have eventually killed him. It was only a matter of time. He turned him because after the mark, the two of them became close, since Cameron wanted less and less to do with me. After your first, it … I’m told that it becomes less likely that the bond is so strong between a Maker and a Child, so to Toban, it was as simple as granting a request. Cameron told me what was happening, and then the two of them left and were out of touch for twenty years.” 
You found it hard to believe that Toban had been out of touch with Ellaria for so long, but stayed quiet, thoughts buzzing in your head. Oberyn’s differing use of his mark of protection through the years was staggering - from overusing it to not using it to choosing to use it sparingly to only offering it when the possibility of forever was on the table, but denying it to someone that was in immediate danger. And then there’s me. How do I factor into this? “You never considered turning Cameron?”
“Not once. I did love him. We were close. He knew me well, and we were happy together, but it wasn’t … I never felt the same as I did with Isabel, and that was a problem for me. He’s happy now, I’ve seen him once since he became one of us, but … the bond between us does not exist anymore. And as upset as I was with Toban at the time, his … interference was for the best. It kept Cameron alive, and it kept me from being forced to make a decision that I would have regretted later.” 
You couldn’t help it - stifling a yawn in the middle of his words, one hand rising to cover your mouth and hide it. Shit. “I’m sorry, Oberyn. It’s just that it’s late, and you’re comfortable, and -”
“It is. And I am.” He laughed quietly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I am almost done, and then I will take you to bed.” Wait, what? “To sleep,” he clarified, lips finding your temple. “I just need to explain my feelings toward Toban, and then … then you will understand more.” 
“Before you do that, I have something to ask.” Leaning back, you looked up as he stared down at you, the man nodding twice. “Tyene offered to change me if you wouldn’t. Toban said that he was glad things wouldn’t be the same with me as they were with Cameron, and that he looked forward to getting to know me when this was over … why? They’ve known me for a few days, and they’re already acting like I’m going to be around for a long time, and that they want it to happen.” 
“They’re my family. They understand that everything going on right now is … fluid. But the fact that I acted so quickly and definitively with you, despite you being in no danger from any Others … it tells them everything they need to know about my feelings.” It was an answer, but only a partial one - though it would have to be enough. Because there are more important things to worry about. 
“What if there are Others working with the Lannisters that Tyrion doesn’t know about? What if that’s a surprise? What if -”
“That is nothing to worry about. It is a rule set by our Elders that we give the Lannisters nothing. They’ve been trying to figure out how our blood works for centuries, and have offered unbelievable sums of money for assistance. But despite the fact that not all of the Others have a vendetta against them like mine or Ellaria’s, no one is willing to help them, because it means they’d be completely cut off if they lived long enough… and survived my retaliation against them.” 
Toban’s words - no one would dare cross the Red Viper - echoed in your mind, and despite yourself, you shivered. If he has that much power over the entire community, then … then the fact that I’ve been accepted by him means even more than I thought it did. “I’m glad to hear it. And soon, helping the Lannisters won’t be something any of you have to worry about.” 
“No, it won’t be.” He hummed and then squinted, though you knew that his vision was perfect. “The sun will start to rise in about 40 minutes, so I’m going to make this quick.” Quietly encouraging him to continue, you squeezed his bicep. “I have denied myself very little in my first life… or in this life. But I am consciously denying myself the connection that we have with our first. Over and over, I have had the opportunity to choose someone to fill that role, and I have walked away every time. Toban was Ellaria’s first, and the bond they have … as much as I want to experience that, it hasn’t ever felt right.  She turned him with nothing but love for him in her heart, and I … I’ve already told you what I feel. The hate. The rage. The sadness. They are not all I feel, but they are always there, like a shadow. Making someone an offer of eternal life shouldn’t come with the burden of those things.” 
No, it shouldn’t. “Only you can decide what the right time is, or who the right person is, Oberyn. And you told me the other night that once this is over? You might be able to make that offer to someone. I want that for you. And whoever it is is going to be the luckiest person in the world, because you -” 
“No.” Using one hand, he turned your face toward his, the corners of his mouth lifting in a tiny smile. “I will be the luckiest man on this planet if they say yes.” Oberyn kissed you softly, his lips parted so that your lower one fit between them. 
He didn’t say you, don’t get your hopes up. But it was impossible not to - all of Oberyn’s words and explanations aligned with his actions and your presence in his life, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that he was referring to you when he mentioned an after for someone. 
“I do not hate Toban. I could never truly despise someone that holds such a large portion of Ellaria’s heart. But he has something I haven’t been able to seriously consider for myself, and seeing him … and them together is a reminder of that.” 
You kissed him when he was done speaking, puckered lips trailing over his and then to his cheek, pausing over the space where his dimple appeared each time he smiled and then moving back to his mouth. You lingered there, wanting to deepen it, but Oberyn decided for you, shaking his head and leaning back. “We need to go inside. If I get carried away with you out here, the sun will not be pleasant.” 
“Of course.” Pushing yourself to your feet, you kept the blanket wrapped around you, staring down at where he still sat. “Plus, unless I missed something in the last few hours, you and Ellaria haven’t had enough time to take care of what you need to, so… getting carried away isn’t an option.” 
“We have not.” He stood, too, reaching out to put an arm around your shoulders. “But there are other things that you and I could do that would make me lose track of time.”
“Yeah?” Feeling bold, you slid your arm around his back, hand landing on his hip and your fingertips slipping beneath the waistband of the pants he wore. “Are any of those possible in that bedroom with the drapes shut?” 
“If you’re not too tired, we can find out.” 
You were exhausted, but his words sent a jolt of adrenaline through you, your eyes moving to the partially open door. I’ll never be too tired to find out with you, Oberyn. What you’d discussed had likely taken a lot out of him, but you never would have known based on the way he led you back into the bedroom and then fluidly worked to secure the door and drapes - ensuring that not even a sliver of sunlight would leak through when it rose. 
You went into the bathroom while he did that, taking a few moments when you’d finished to stare at yourself in the mirror. You could feel the mark he’d given you - a dull thrum against the side of your throat, and even though you knew it wouldn’t do any good, you leaned in and squinted at your reflection. I know what it’s supposed to look like, but I really wish I could see it just once. 
And you didn’t even mean as a result of being turned - though if that were the case, you’d be able to see it any time you looked into the mirror. I just mean … Swirling your fingertips slowly over your skin, you sighed. I want to see what he sees.
A knock at the door startled you. When it pushed open a few seconds later, Oberyn peaking around the edge, you straightened up and smiled. “You can come in. I guess.” 
He stepped inside, leaving the door open behind him. Oh, he took his shirt off. “The room is ready. We will be able to rest for as long as we need to.” 
“What do you do while I… while the person you’re in bed with is sleeping?” You watched his expression in the mirror, both of Oberyn’s eyebrows shooting upward. “You don’t really sleep, so -”
“I do need rest. When it’s a human I’m with, my body just sort of goes into a … meditative state. I’m still alert and aware in case of danger, but if someone were to see me, they’d think I was asleep.” He stepped behind you, extending his arms so that he could grip the edges of the counter on either side of your body. “You have seen me actually sleep, though. After the Mountain? My body was doing everything possible to heal, and that meant being truly unconscious.” 
Oberyn pressed his chest to your back, never breaking eye contact with your reflection. “So it’s like a recharge. Even though you technically don’t need it, you still… keep up appearances.” 
“I do.” He nodded, turning his head to press his lips to the angle of your jaw. “When I have a reason to.” I’m the reason right now? “I also must admit to something.” He kissed you again, mouth moving closer to your ear. “In the last few days, I have spent more than a few hours just watching you sleep.” 
“Creep.” But you felt your entire body growing warm at his words, a sharp inhale of breath your only response when he let go of the counter and wound his arms around you to pull you even closer. “Oberyn.” 
“I have been trying to figure out what it is about you that has drawn me in so quickly.” He hummed, the man pushing your shirt up and gliding his fingers over your skin. “Why I was so … moved to do whatever it took to protect you, even when I was … impaired and hadn’t had the urge to give that gift to anyone in hundreds of years.” 
“Does the why matter?” Sighing as he stroked the skin beneath your belly button, you tipped your head back, resting it against his shoulder. “It doesn’t to me, because whatever the reason, it means … you’re in my life now, and I’m in yours. Whatever that means going forward is something that we’ll have to figure out, but …” Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, pressing your lips together. “Do you regret what you did? Do you wish you hadn’t been -”
“No.” It was almost a growl, Oberyn’s palm flattening against your belly, the other one moving up your body and sliding beneath the neckline of your shirt so that he could settle it over your heart. “I regret the timing, yes, and not being able to explain what I wanted to do beforehand… but when it comes to choosing you?” He nuzzled against the side of your face, his upper lip curling. “There is no regret.” 
It made you feel better. 
When you turned your head toward him, he was waiting, the man’s lips already parted so that he could pull yours between them, the scrape of his teeth making you groan. Reaching up, you used one hand to grip his hair, fingers twisting in the silver-streaked locks. He pressed harder on your chest, and once again, you knew he was monitoring your heartbeat. But this time, it’s not because he’s afraid it’s too slow. 
He kissed you harder, his mouth moving with yours - and the hand on your abdomen moved lower, the tips of his fingers skimming the waistband of your sweats. You whimpered then, Oberyn  swallowing the sound - but it only seemed to encourage him. Wait, though. Wait because … 
Pulling away from him with a gasp, you let out a shuddering breath, and were unsurprised to see mischief in his eyes, one of his brows raised. “Can, um…” Fighting to catch your breath, you chewed on your lower lip and wrinkled your nose. This is stupid. “Can they hear us? I know this is a big apartment, but …”
To his credit, Oberyn didn’t outright laugh at you. Instead he just murmured your name and leaned in to kiss you, his fingers curling slightly. “Our hearing is very good, yes. But with age and experience, we are able to … tune things out. It becomes like background noise for us unless we’re actively listening. I cannot say that they won’t all know that something is going on in here because of your heartbeat or any noises we make, but I can assure you that Ellaria and Toban are quite occupied themselves, and Tyene is more like a teenager than you know.” 
“Doesn’t want to hear either of her parents having sex? Got it.” You grinned at that, feeling marginally more at ease. “I just didn’t want to be rude, Oberyn. I know you’ll tell me that I’m worrying for nothing, but …” 
“I certainly haven’t been listening to them, I can promise you that.” The look in his eyes changed briefly, but then he was focused on you again, the intensity back. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I understand.” You considered his words for a few seconds, breaking eye contact and then closing both of yours. 
Everything you knew about Oberyn Martell - from Westerosi history books and actually meeting him in person - told you that while he had very few limitations when it came to his behavior, he was considerate of others when the situation called for it. 
He wouldn’t force you to do anything, and his honesty about the fact that three supernatural beings also in the apartment could probably hear everything happening was proof that you had a choice about whether or not to move forward. But they all already know how he is. They know how he feels, and how I feel, and …  
“I want this, Oberyn.” His hold on you tightened, and when you lifted your head again to lock eyes with him in the mirror, you nodded twice. “But, the first time we’re actually together? I’d prefer if it was just the two of us, you know?”
“Of course.” The hand at your chest dropped a few inches, Oberyn’s wrist caught on the neckline of your shirt as he palmed one breast. “No one to listen. No one to interrupt. No one to …” He pressed his lips to your cheek and then moved them down, kissing the space just beneath your ear and then against the column of your throat. “No one to make either of us leave that bed before we’re ready.” 
You moaned at that - the sound loud, and when he latched his lips against your skin and sucked, you did it again, not caring at all who was listening. He wasn’t biting you, but part of you wished that he would - and you didn’t know what exactly that said about you. “I can’t wait.” The thought of you and Oberyn - uninterrupted and in a bed together, the man finally able to give you what you both desperately wanted - was enough to make your knees shake. 
But he kept you upright, releasing your skin and then smiling against it as he continued to kiss his way forward. “On that night,” he whispered, lips moving over the part of your collarbone that was exposed, “on that night, I am going to kiss every single part of you that I marred when I was not well.” 
“Oberyn, you don’t have to -”
“It is not for you.” He shook his head, the hand at your waist sliding marginally lower while the one on your chest moved in a slow circle, one fingertip circling your nipple. “It is for me. And it is the only way I can begin to forgive myself.” You knew that telling him that you’d already forgiven him was unnecessary - he’d made the decision to make up for what he’d done, and you couldn’t sway him. “But for now…” He took a step forward, the small movement aligning your thighs with the edge of the counter. “This is for you.” 
He removed his hand from beneath your shirt and then used both of his to pull it upward, the man silent as he moved. Raising your arms to allow him to fully remove it, you let out a shuddering breath at the sight of your bare torso in the mirror, watching as he wrapped his arms around you again. He’s just watching me. Watching … us. 
The heat of his body was soft against your skin, the man’s palms warmer where they pressed to it - but you were focused on the intensity of his gaze, his eyes following the movement of his fingers as he touched you. “Oberyn, what are …” You gasped when his right hand slid down your stomach, fingers gliding beneath your waistband again - but instead of continuing down, he held it there, humming appreciatively. “You seem pleased with yourself, Prince Oberyn.” 
That got a laugh out of him, the smile spreading across his face as he palmed your chest with his other hand. But when Oberyn said your name next, there was no trace of laughter in his voice. Instead, it was low and full of want, his eyes blazing in the mirror’s reflection. “You’ll be pleased in a few minutes, too. That is a promise.” 
 You managed little more than a quiet sigh in response, but you nodded, never taking your eyes off of him. He was pressed against you from behind, the man’s body firm, and when he used one foot to nudge yours apart, you moved. Not much - just enough to widen your stance for him. Please touch me, Oberyn. Please, just … 
Reaching up with one hand, you dragged your fingers through the hair laying against the nape of his neck as you finally turned your head toward him, your upper body twisting slightly. It was enough to allow you to kiss him, your mouth pressed to his as your fingers curled. 
Despite his age and his circumstances - and the fact that your friends had the element of surprise, you knew that nothing was promised beyond the moments you were living in. Especially for me, you thought as you continued to kiss him, lips parting in a signal to him that you wanted more. Because out of everyone, I’m the only one without a contingency plan or immortal blood. 
He must have noticed a change in your heartbeat, because Oberyn pulled away moments later, his frown deep. “What is wrong? Do you want me to stop?” 
“No. I don’t.” Closing your eyes, you bit down on your lower lip. “I’m just … so much could go wrong, Oberyn. And I’m scared that I’ll lose you before …” You pulled your hand from his head, using it to cover your mouth. Just say it. “I’m scared that I’ll lose you before I can really get to know you. Or that something will happen to me, and then…” And then you’ll lose someone else you care about earlier than planned. 
“You will not lose me.” He leaned in, running his nose along your temple. “Not during this conflict, and definitely not tonight.” He kissed you then, lips landing on the corner of one eye. “And nothing is going to happen to you… nothing that you don’t like, anyway.” You felt his smile, the man pausing before he spoke again - that time, directly into your ear. “Let me take care of you, issa ōños.” 
You knew it was Valyrian, but you didn’t know what he’d said - and didn’t want to stop him and ask, especially when his hand moved even lower, the edges of his nails dragging against your sensitive skin and making your hips jerk backward into his. He was hard and made no effort to conceal that from you, Oberyn bending one knee and sliding that foot between both of your legs so that you could feel the length of him against the back of your hip. 
It also stabilized you, your lips curving into a tiny smile at the realization. But that was cut off when he kissed you again, Oberyn’s lips crushing yours with what you could only describe as a slight desperation. You have nothing to prove to me, Oberyn. Nothing at all. 
The hand on your chest moved upward, palm pausing over your heart for long moments as the kiss continued, desperation turning into something like need as he felt the steady - though elevated - beat of it. He nodded once without breaking the kiss, and when you circled your hips slowly, leaning the weight of your upper body into his, Oberyn was ready. 
He licked into your mouth, the drag of his tongue long and slow. It took you a few seconds to realize that he’d dropped his hand again, slipping his fingers between your legs and curving them - the breadth of them pressed against the apex of your thighs. His touch was welcome, and when he stroked you with one long finger, you moaned into his mouth, your hand rising again to let your fingers tangle in his hair. 
He continued with only one finger, though he sped up after a minute or so, the man not doing anything but touching you until he broke the kiss to let you breathe. You gasped a breath into your lungs, eyes squeezed shut, and when Oberyn’s hand moved upward from your chest and to your throat, you let it out shakily at what you knew was coming. 
He made contact with the mark on your neck at the same time one finger slipped into you, Oberyn humming as you breathed out his name, the sound so quiet that only someone with his hearing would have known. Your muscles clenched around his finger, your body accommodating him immediately - though you wanted more, and knew that he’d want you to say so. 
You opened your mouth to tell him, turning your head just enough so that you could steal a quick kiss, but when your lips met, you felt the sharp sting of his teeth - the man nicking your lip and then snapping his head back before you could even react. His fangs are out. Is that new or has it been that way every time we’ve been close like this? “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to -”
“Don’t apologize for what you are, Oberyn.” You dragged your tongue slowly over the area he’d bitten, your tongue coming away coated in the tang of copper. You met his eyes again - directly that time, and not in the mirror - and shook your head without looking away. “I can handle it, and I want to.” It was the truth - you needed him to know that no part of him or who he was or what he wanted frightened you or made  you uncomfortable in any way, and that you trusted him to toe the line of safety with you in every situation. “Can…” Swallowing, you nodded. “Can I see?” 
He hesitated but it was brief. Oberyn’s hand dropped from your neck back to your upper chest, the motion of his other hand paused, too. “Yes. You can.” He opened his mouth again, tipping his head back and baring his teeth - and you watched as his fangs descended, the sharp points coming into view with no change in his expression. Oberyn stayed still, the man’s eyes on your face as you stared at what he was showing you. 
They were beautiful - much like the rest of him was - and without thinking about it, you raised your hand slowly, fingertips caressing his cheek as your thumb hovered just in front of his open mouth. “Does it hurt?” You spoke quietly, wondering what he felt in the rhythm of your heartbeat. “When they come down?”
“No.” He prodded at one with the tip of his tongue, your eyes following the movement. “It never has.” You wanted to touch one of them - to press the pad of your thumb against the point, testing the sharpness, but had no idea if that would be crossing the line of acceptability. “People used to fear them, even after I told them what I was. I became … adept at keeping them hidden. At not letting my natural reaction to … others allow them to be visible.” 
“So they come out when you’re turned on?” Arching a brow, you grinned at him again. “Good to know.” The edge of your nail caught on his lower lip, and then Oberyn snapped his teeth at you, playfully nipping at it before turning his head to kiss the inside of your wrist with a lingering press of his lips. “Oberyn.” You got his attention with a single word, his gaze rising to lock with yours again. “You have my permission to … bite me if that’s what you want.” 
It sounded stupid coming from you - the words leaving your lips and echoing in the small space. But he probably needs to hear it, because he was so afraid I’d be mad or off-put and … I’m not. “Is it what you want?” 
He pulled you closer to his body, Oberyn’s fingers curling against your core, and you nodded in return. “Yes. I want you, and that urge is a part of who you are, so… it is.” His eyes flashed at your admission, the man’s pupils widening - and then he was kissing you again, none of the previous restraint present. 
Instead, he took the lead, his mouth pressed to yours with some force as the hand between your legs began to move again. But that time, Oberyn went with two fingers, much as he had done in the safehouse. It felt better - your body’s immediate reaction to cant your hips forward over and over into his touch, chasing the pressure of the heel of his hand on each backstroke. 
He bit your lip again before he moved his mouth to your jaw, the points of his teeth scraping over it and then dragging along your cheek, the man’s plush lips trailing a second path over your heated skin. 
Closing your eyes and breathing hard, you angled your head away and gave him a better route to your neck, knowing full well that he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the mark - but still wanting his mouth on it, wanting to feel the heat of his lips as the effect of the claim he’d made on you coursed through your body. Not a claim, you reminded yourself as he bit on your earlobe before releasing it. A promise. A reminder that he wants to keep me safe. 
And Oberyn did press his lips to your mark moments later, along with a twist of his wrist that left his fingers buried in you but also allowed him to circle his thumb over the spot just above them, your hips jerking back once more. His kiss burned, the connection between you electric in its intensity, and you forced your eyes open, watching what was going on in the mirror. 
It was a sight you’d never forget - one of his hands pressed so tightly to your chest that your flesh dimpled beneath it, the other hidden beneath the sweats you still wore, the motion of the fabric over the movement of his fingers and the flex of the muscles in his wrist and forearm something that you could have watched for hours. 
But it was his head that you focused on, the crown of dark curls streaked with silver repositioned after only a few seconds and giving you a view of his brow and nose as he moved away from your throat and back to the place where your neck met your shoulder. 
You didn’t even notice your own bare skin - chest on full display in the warm light of the vanity fixture - because you were so focused on him and what he was doing. But nothing could have prepared you for Oberyn raising his eyes and turning his head so that he could rest his chin on your shoulder. 
He curled his fingers inside of you at the same moment he smirked, and then he opened his mouth, letting you watch as his fangs descended once more. He’s going to … Oh, he’s… 
You knew it was coming and yet you were still unprepared for the way it felt the moment he sunk his teeth into your skin, the man’s low moan at the taste of you sending a shiver of pleasure throughout your entire body. Your first instinct was to close your eyes but you forced yourself to keep them open, watching as your mouth dropped open, lips forming his name though you didn’t speak it out loud. 
He didn’t actually drink from you the same way he had the first night. Instead, Oberyn sipped slowly, timing the swallows with the strokes of his fingers, your body following his lead. You lifted one hand and laid it over the one he had on your chest, using the other one to grip the edge of the counter even though it was unnecessary. 
You wanted to watch - wanted to see the exact moment you fell apart from his touch and his mouth, but instead of doing that, you closed your eyes and let yourself relax into him, the man supporting your weight, even as your hips continued to move in tandem with his hand. 
There was pressure building in your lower belly - the result of his touch and his bite, and if you could sense it, you knew that he likely could, too. But I haven’t touched him. I haven’t … he hasn’t… You groaned, forcing your eyes open and saying his name, the man looking up without pulling his mouth away from your skin. His eyes were dark - the pupils so wide that you couldn’t tell where they ended, and there was a tiny trickle of blood at one corner of his mouth that made you gasp when you saw it. That’s my … oh, shit. 
But it didn’t deter you, and when you spoke moments later, your voice was low, though you heard the certainty in your tone. “Touch yourself, Oberyn. I know you want to.” 
His eyes rolled back and then he shut them, pulling the hand on your chest out from beneath yours as he sucked on your shoulder, and then you felt that hand slide down your body before it joined the other one between your legs. What the fuck is he… 
Before you could even finish your thought, Oberyn deftly replaced his first hand with the second, never missing a beat in the rhythm of his touch. Oh, he’s … oh, shit. Humming, you watched as he removed the first hand - his fingers glistening with your slick - and drew it back between your bodies, pushing the pants he wore down so that he could do what you’d told him to.  
He grunted against your skin and then you felt him move - stroking himself slowly, the man’s knuckles brushing against your back and hip. He sped up the motion of his other hand, and you glanced down, catching a glimpse of what was going on behind you - his large hand wrapped around his length, lower body pulled away from yours enough to give him the space he needed to glide easily. 
You had no idea what a vampire’s release would be like - or if it would be anything at all - but before you could dwell on the thought, Oberyn’s thumb found a sweet spot again, the man pressing down against your skin before circling slowly, another prolonged suck on your shoulder making you gasp. 
It was almost too much - definitely more than you’d experienced with him the first time he’d touched you, but at the same time, it was nowhere close to being enough. Will it ever be? You wondered as you forced your eyes to stay open, gaze focused on the flex of the tendons in his wrist and the way the length of him looked - tip flushed, the rest of him and his hand coated in you. 
Without warning, Oberyn released your shoulder and lifted his head, and you let out a moan at what he left behind - a double set of puncture wounds on your skin, thin trails of blood oozing from them and more of the same coating his lower lip. He looked almost drunk, his eyelids heavy, and for a few seconds, you thought he was going to stay like that… but you were wrong. 
“Give me your hand.” Voice low, he made the demand, Oberyn’s tongue cleaning the blood from his mouth. “Over mine.” Ducking his head, you felt as he kissed the place he bit once more, followed by the drag of his tongue, which felt almost as good as the bite itself. But you moved your hand at the same time, making a guess that he wasn’t asking for help touching you and reaching back so that you could wrap your fingers over his mid-stroke. 
He grunted at your touch, and before you could question him further, it was your hand resting against his skin, Oberyn’s larger one securely atop yours and guiding you. He was warm against your palm, the heft of him large but not uncomfortable, and as you took over, Oberyn’s focus shifted back to the hand he had between your legs, the speed of those thrusts increasing, as did the pace of his thumb. 
It felt amazing  - better than anything that had ever been done to your body before, and Oberyn knew it, the man’s smile turning lazy as he focused on the mirror. “Normally I would prolong this,” he murmured, mouth moving along your skin. “To see how long you could remain right on the edge.” No, please. Not tonight. I just want … “But that is not what either of us needs tonight.” He sighed, mouthing at the base of your throat and then parting his lips to bite again - that time without his fangs. “Tonight you just need me.” 
It was the truth - and it didn’t matter how or why he knew it, and so you nodded, swallowing and tipping your head back as you paused your hand long enough to swirl your thumb over his head, the man twitching at the touch. Squeezing once in agreement, you then resumed your movement - and Oberyn changed his, holding his fingers still inside you while the third kept moving - the pace increasing. 
“Oberyn!” You cried out, your voice much louder than you’d anticipated, but it only encouraged him, the muscles in your abdomen tightening as your toes curled, Oberyn’s hand squeezing yours once more before releasing it. He moved that hand up to your chest again, the weight of his touch grounding you and holding you tight against his body. Even though your eyes snapped closed, you knew why he was touching you there - knew what he was searching for. And I hope he likes it, you thought even as your lips fell open in a series of pants, breath shaky. My fucking heart is racing, and … 
“There it is,” he whispered, followed by a quiet hum of approval. “There you go.” 
You fell apart moments later, your body nearly convulsing at his touch - your free hand slapping against the countertop as the one you had on him stuttered in its motion, grip tightening. Your muscles clenched around his fingers, and Oberyn kept them still, the man swearing in another language - one that you didn’t recognize before turning to kiss the underside of your jaw, the press of his lips against the pulse in your neck welcome. 
He eased you through it, his touch lengthening your orgasm, but once the haze of pleasure had begun to subside, you took a deep, shaky breath and used the hand on the counter to touch his wrist, stopping the motion. Stop. Stop, Oberyn. “Let me turn around, Oberyn.” 
He slipped his fingers from inside of you, but didn’t pull his hand free from beneath your sweats. You let him go long enough to turn and face him, knees wobbly and your chest heaving, but when you met his eyes, you saw understanding in them. “Are you -”
“Be quiet.” Wetting your lips, you shook your head. “Be quiet and let me take care of you now.” His eyes flashed but he didn’t speak, and when you touched him again, your grip was certain - your confidence growing with each passing second. 
He crowded you against the counter again, and without thinking, you maneuvered yourself so that you were sitting on the edge of it, legs spread so that Oberyn could step between them. It gave you better access, and when you reached up with your free hand, gripping the hair at the back of his neck and urging him to kiss you, Oberyn didn’t hesitate. 
It was a deep kiss, Oberyn’s  tongue seeking entrance to your mouth immediately, and as he kissed you, his hips began to rock forward, the tiny thrusts forcing more of him through your grip. He held you with both hands - one of them pressed to the center of your back, the other one gripping the back of your neck and holding you in place, but despite the power behind it, his grip was gentle. 
You felt his fangs again when he bit on your lower lip but he didn’t pierce the skin, and when you gasped, the sound turning into a moan moments later, Oberyn groaned too, his hips moving faster. He broke the kiss, humming out your name. “I am close. I… where do y-”
“Anywhere.” Pressing a kiss to his lips, you shook your head. “Anywhere, Oberyn.” He grunted at your words but didn’t speak again, and when Oberyn kissed you hard, mouth sealed over yours, you knew that close meant imminent. 
Your heart racing again, you swirled your thumb over his tip and squeezed, the speed of your hand increasing as Oberyn’s lips parted, though he didn’t pull back from you. Forcing your eyes open, you tilted your head down to stare between your bodies, twisting your wrist so that when he came, it would hit your belly - and that change was all he needed, the man pulsing in your hand as he followed you over the edge. 
It coated your skin, pearly streaks hitting your stomach, the volume increasing with each stroke of your hand until he was nearly shuddering in your grip, Oberyn’s muscles twitching though he didn’t seem to have any trouble staying on his feet. “Fuck.” He swore, the sound beautiful to your ears. “You just … you are …” 
“Hold that thought, Prince Oberyn.” With one more stroke - and a final squeeze - you released him, fingertips trailing up his stomach until you could press your hand over his heart. It was strange to feel nothing beneath your palm, but it wasn’t difficult to imagine what it would have felt like - his chest rising and falling rapidly while he struggled to catch his breath, his lips parted as he sucked air between them. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s alive in all the ways that count. Your hand moved higher, fingers curling around the side of his throat and your thumb sliding over his jawline. “Ok, now you can finish.” 
“I just did.” He raised an eyebrow. “All over your -” You laughed, eyes closing and your chin dropping, but when Oberyn said your name, you looked back up at him. “I know you heard me earlier, heard what I called you?” Oh, he’s … Nodding, you took a deep breath and held it. “Issa ōños, it means … it means my light. And that is what you are to me, because you’ve shown me something I haven’t seen in a very long time.” 
Your heart was racing, his explanation of the words much more intimate than you’d ever expected them to be. “I have?” He nodded, both of his hands slipping down toward your waist. 
“The way forward. Hope. What it means to … care for someone again. I am beginning to see an end to the darkness I have lived with for so long.” You didn’t know what to say, and any of the things that crossed your mind seemed like too little - so you just leaned forward and kissed him gently, stroking the back of his head. When the kiss ended, neither of you said anything - but you didn’t separate, either, locked in place and holding each other, his forehead pressed to yours. We can’t stay here, though. 
“We should get cleaned up, Oberyn. I need to lay down.” Sighing, you straightened up and looked into his eyes. “And I need to … figure out how to respond to what you just said, because -”
“No. You don’t. Not yet.” He smiled, the expression understanding. “I just wanted you to know.” The man backed off, though he was reluctant to let you go. “It is important that you know.”  
He stepped away, giving you the room you needed to climb off of the counter and begin to clean up, doing the same thing beside you before pulling his pants back on. Everything he says is important. But that seems … very important. And I just … I don’t know what to think. 
Luckily for you, there was plenty of time, since you had days before the engagement party and wedding, and you weren’t involved in every aspect of the attack plan. But it can wait until I wake up. You yawned, swaying on your feet as you dried your face off with a fluffy towel, but then you felt Oberyn’s arms around you again, his mouth right next to your ear. “It’s time for bed. You can barely stand.” 
You didn’t argue, and only a few seconds later, you were horizontal on the comfortable mattress, the thick blanket covering you while Oberyn pressed against you from behind.
You were drowsy, and knew that it wouldn’t take long to fall asleep, but you forced yourself to speak one final time, clearing your throat without opening your eyes. “I know you won’t sleep, but I hope you get some rest.” He chuckled, his mouth pressed to the back of your shoulder. “I’ll see you when I wake up. I lo-” 
You stopped yourself just in time, breath catching in your throat. Oh, no. Oh, I just almost… His arm tightened around you, Oberyn pulling you as close as he could. “I will be here.” I almost just fucked everything up. I almost ruined everything. 
You were exhausted, but the racing of your heart at the near admission kept you awake for a long time. And if Oberyn noticed - which you knew that he did - he didn’t comment on it, his body still behind yours.  
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“You’re serious?” You looked back and forth between them, eyes wide. “Tyene? Toban? You’re telling me that -”
“Yes. We’ve all been cooped up in here for a week, and you haven’t been anywhere for almost two aside from coming here.” The girl grinned, holding out a hand. “We’re going out tonight.” 
“But shouldn’t we -” You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Shouldn’t you two be worried about preparing for the wedding instead of worrying about babysitting a human? The engagement party is tomorrow, and…” Trailing off, you looked at Toban’s face, watching as he studied you. “That’s why we’re leaving.” 
Closing your eyes, you nodded. It’s because the party is tomorrow. “After tomorrow, we lose the element of surprise.” Tyene stepped forward, glancing at Toban. “Or at least Oberyn and Ellaria do. So between then and the wedding, things will be … harder for us. Unless we go tonight, we won’t be able to until it’s all over because they might be looking.” 
“And at that point, none of us will be hiding anymore.” Toban cleared his throat, saying your name. “So tonight, the three of us are going to leave the apartment, you are going to check in with someone that you know as proof of life, and Tyene and I are going to fuel up for what is coming.” 
That was code for find someone to drink from, though he was tactful about admitting it. “That’s not the only reason we’re leaving.” You smiled at her, nodding, even though you felt a pang in your chest. “But alright. Let me get changed. I don’t think I want my first time out and around people in such a long time to be in sweatpants.” She grinned, turning and leaving the room, though Toban remained, the man eyeing you curiously. “What? What did -”
“He expects you to be upset.” Frowning, Toban shook his head. “But you aren’t… at least in the way it would make sense for you to be.” 
“Oberyn told me about your gift.” You stood, taking a deep breath. “And you’re right, I do feel … something right now, but … two thousand years of history between them? I’ve known him for fifteen seconds in comparison. And if this is what needs to happen so that he can focus on what’s coming, there’s no way I can be mad about it.” You chewed on your lip and then shook your head. “This isn’t a shock to me, Toban. I knew it was going to happen.If anything, I’m surprised it took this long.” 
He looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead closed his eyes, nodding. He doesn’t know what to say. “How long do you need to get ready?” Toban cleared his throat. “An hour?”
“No, not even close.” Glancing around the room, you shrugged. “Twenty minutes? A half hour?” He agreed and then followed Tyene out of the room, leaving you alone. There were plenty of clothes for you to choose from, and after checking the weather on one of the TV channels, you opted for a pair of jeans and a light colored tee, pulling a cardigan over it. 
From there, you moved to the vanity, sliding onto the bench seat and reaching for the small bag of toiletries that included makeup, trying to decide whether or not you wanted to put in the effort. Not like I’m trying to impress anyone. 
“I have warned them that if anything happens to you, they will answer to me.” 
Turning your head toward the voice, you rolled your eyes when you saw Oberyn leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed. “You wouldn’t have agreed to let me leave this apartment if you thought something might happen.” He pushed off of the wall and moved toward where you sat, the man settling both hands on your shoulders. “It’ll be good to get outside, Oberyn, to be around other people again.” 
“Are we not enough?” You thought about lying and then opted not to, setting the compact you held back down as you turned your head again to look up at him. 
“It’s not that you aren’t enough. I just … I went from interacting with dozens of people every day and using all kinds of technology whenever I wanted to the confines of an apartment, no phone, and the same four faces for the last two weeks.” Aside from Clegane and Tyrion, that is. “It was a big change.” 
“You’ll be back in that world full time soon enough.” He cleared his throat. “I’m … sorry that this is what your life has become. You should not have to hide here, with us. This is not your fight.” 
“It is, though.” Eyeing yourself in the mirror, you shrugged. “It became my fight the second you kissed me at that party, Oberyn. And I’ll do whatever I can to help you win it.” Even if that means going out to a bar so that you can fuck the lingering effects of Ellaria’s blood from your system. “Besides, spending time with Toban and Tyene will be … interesting. I’m sure they’ll have a ton of stories to tell me, and with you and Ellaria out of earshot, they won’t have to worry about censoring themselves.” 
He laughed at that but didn’t speak, his eyes on you as you applied mascara. You could see his reflection in the mirror, the man’s brow furrowed, and you wondered what it would actually take for him to speak up. I’ve never seen him like this. He twisted the ring on his thumb with two fingers, still silent when you picked up another brush - but Oberyn finally broke the silence a few seconds later, his tone full of confusion. 
“You are calm. Your heartbeat is … steady.” He frowned, glancing up at the ceiling. “Yet you know what is going to happen when -”
“Oberyn.” Capping your eyeliner, you spun on the bench to face him, hands in your lap. “Yes. I know that when the three of us are gone, you and Ellaria are going to fuck.” You knew it was more than that, but being blunt was the route you chose. “You need to be clearheaded for tomorrow, and even though having the extra stamina from her blood would probably be helpful if something happens, the focus is more important.” 
“Among other things.” He mumbled the words and then held a hand out, waiting for you to take it. “I wish it did not have to be this way.” 
“Why?” He pulled you to your feet, his free hand going to your waist. “You love her, Oberyn. You haven’t seen her in a while, and this is probably the longest the two of you have ever gone in each other’s presence without jumping into bed.” Settling your hand on his chest, you said his name again. “I will never be jealous of what the two of you have. She saved your life twice that I know about, and probably countless more times between, too.” He smiled at that - just a twitch of his lips but it was there, and so you continued. “Plus, if that night in the bathroom was any indication, my pelvis and ribs wouldn’t stand a chance with you until you get that out of your system.” Arching a brow, you stared at him for a few seconds, giving your words time to land. 
You hadn’t discussed what had happened between you - or what you’d almost said - after waking up, and the following few days had been filled with planning sessions, meaning that Oberyn’s attention was divided. You’d thought about it, of course, and figured that he had, too … but you knew that he had far more important things to worry about.
But those things didn’t keep him from you in the time before you went to bed each day, Oberyn taking breaks to lay with you until you’d fallen asleep, his hand stroking over the parts of your body that he could reach and the two of you trading deep, slow kisses until your eyes closed and he had the opportunity to extricate himself, heading back into the other room with Ellaria, Toban and Tyene. 
You only knew this was the case because you’d woken up to an empty bed one night, the fear that he was gone filling you for long moments and only abating when you heard his voice from the other room, Toban’s joining in moments later. He’d always been in bed again when you woke up, though, the comforting weight of him beside you and his face the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. 
Tyrion hadn’t come back, but packages from him had arrived throughout the week - blueprints and files, a secure phone that he’d used to call your group twice - and so you knew that he was still all in. You also knew that while the actual plan was to attack just before the wedding ceremony, there were contingencies in place in case the Lannisters acted out of character and attempted anything at the party. 
“You certainly did not complain about the way I was touching you the other night.” Narrowing his eyes playfully, he cocked his head to the side. “Or the way I used my hands.” 
“And I never would, but Oberyn, I do enjoy walking and being able to comfortably sit in chairs and breathing without pain, so … yeah. Five or six thousand years is a lot more than two, so -” Leaning in, you kissed him on the mouth, nodding. “Yes. You do what you need to do and I’m going to go and convince Toban and Tyene to let me have a couple cheap beers and the greasiest -” 
“Do you want me to stay in the other room tonight?” His hands went to your waist, all traces of humor gone from his tone. “The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.” That threw you, and you were unable to keep your expression from changing before you got yourself under control. Oh, Oberyn. 
“I’m … not sure.” Averting your eyes, you pressed your lips together. “I don’t think I’ll be able to answer that until I get back, to be honest.”  
“Thank you. Thank you for being -”
“Oberyn, will you please stop being annoying and let her leave?” Tyene popped her head into the room, a clear look of irritation on her face. “This isn’t the inquisition, and -” He stepped backwards, pulling you with him without looking away. But Oberyn used one hand to shove the girl back into the hallway, followed by closing the door before he pressed his back to it, two quick knocks from outside immediately following. “Two minutes, Martell. Or I’m breaking this door down, and -”
“I’ll be out in one, Tyene!” Raising your voice, you cut her off before turning your full attention to Oberyn. “I’ll see you when I get back.” You contemplated telling him to have fun, but decided against it, choosing instead to lean closer, winding your arms around his neck and tucking your head in. “In one piece, too. Maybe even a little tipsy. We’ll see.” 
“We will.” He kissed the top of your head, arms snaking around your waist. “Please be careful. Stay close to them. If one of them -”
“I’ll listen to them the same way I would you.” Backing off, you nodded. “I promise. Now kiss me goodbye and let me leave, alright?” He eyed you warily, but you could see that  there was pride in his eyes, too - the man staring at you in a way no one ever had before.
His kiss took you by surprise, the press of the man’s mouth gentle, even as the tips of his fingers dug into your sides. He deepened it, Oberyn swallowing your sigh as he traced his tongue along the edges of your teeth and then let it slide past them, meeting yours. 
It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, though you could have read it as one, because you were about to walk out the front door of the apartment into an uncertain world for the first time in days. Instead, it seemed to be a promise - that even though you were leaving and he’d be going to bed with another woman that he was in love with while you were gone, he was what would be waiting when you came back. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” He spoke into your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. “Enjoy yourself.” 
He took your hand and urged you away from the door, opening it and walking down the hallway to where the other three were waiting. Toban and Tyene were dressed to leave the apartment but Ellaria looked more casual - her long hair down and trailing over her shoulders, the dress she wore loose, too. She looks … beautiful. 
“Alright.” Tyene clapped her hands together when she saw the two of you and then pointed at the door. “I need a damn drink, let’s get the hell out of here.” She grabbed your free hand as she passed, tugging you away from Oberyn without breaking stride. “Toban’s buying.” 
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Two hours later, you were ready to admit that getting out of the apartment and back into the real world was exactly what you needed. 
After a short Uber ride, the three of you found yourself in Culver City - not quite close enough to your apartment to make it obvious, but in a place you were much more comfortable with than you would have been at one of the upscale downtown bars. 
You’d been on edge until you finished your first drink, constantly looking around the somewhat crowded room, fingers curled protectively around the frosty glass - but when you’d seen how at ease Tyene and Toban were, you followed suit. 
Your second drink went down smoothly, too, while you focused on a story that Toban was telling about the years he’d spent in Australia. But before you could order a third, the man stopped you, his hand settling on your arm. “We’re going to walk down the street to another place before we do anything else.” 
“Why? Is it -”
“I believe you call this bar-hopping?” He lifted his glass, saluting with it before he finished the final sips of his beer. “And there are still enough people in costume that it’s good cover.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Plus, I think Tyene’s got her eye on someone, so we’ll have to leave once she’s done.” 
The two of you watched as the girl flirted with a man near the bar, reaching up to tousle his hair while she laughed. Good for her. “What about you?” You focused on him, taking a breath. “See anyone here that you like?” 
“I can wait.” He drummed his fingers on the table, looking around the room. “I need less and less to survive as time passes. It’ll be good to… renew myself, but my focus right now is on you.” 
“I didn’t want this.” Shifting in your seat, you shook your head. “The last thing I want is for someone else to be responsible for me because I’m just -” A human. A weak little human who wouldn’t stand a chance against the Mountain or a vampire or something as fucking simple as getting hurt. 
“I can’t speak for her,” he interrupted, gesturing to Tyene, who’d pulled the man into a kiss. “But I’m always happy to spend time with new friends.” He laid his hand atop yours, squeezing. “Especially when they’re as special as you are.” 
“I’m just -”
“You’re not just anything. Not anymore.” Toban lifted his hand and held up one finger, the man nodding - and you only realized that he was signaling Tyene when his attention was fully back on you, his expression widening into a grin. “And now I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” He nodded again, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a phone. “What is -”
“Choose someone you trust. Not family, if you can help it… but someone that you can have a conversation with. Talk for a few minutes, and then invite them out. Invite them to meet us at a random place around here. Are you familiar with the area?” 
“Yeah.” You took the phone, turning it over in your hand. “Is there anywhere I should avoid?” 
“No. Tyene can hear what you say. She’ll head to wherever you suggest next once she finishes with her friend and wait to see if anyone … else shows up before we do. Enhanced everything is an asset to us. And when we know it’s safe, you and I will head there, too.” 
“Is this dangerous? I don’t want to risk it if … This was great. I don’t need to -”
“I heard what you said to Oberyn earlier. You need the interaction. You need to see a friendly human face.” He leaned closer. “You need more than any of us can give you right now.” He was right - and you knew it, so with a tiny nod of agreement, you averted your eyes and dialed a number you knew by heart. 
It rang twice before someone picked up, and at the sound of the voice on the other end of the line, you closed your eyes, grinning. “Nora? It’s me. I’m so sorry I haven’t called you back. Want to meet for a drink?” 
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Tag list reblogs coming soon! 
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wroteclassicaly · 2 years ago
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Summary: Two years. You never drive far anymore, you don’t linger outside of your new city limits. Because how can you drive into the desolate life you once had? Then again, Hawkins and its story book tragedies have a way of bringing you back for more. A mangled marriage, an abandoned two story, and a loved one in turmoil, it finally brings you back home.
Parings: Eddie Munson x Female Reader
Warnings: Language, shitloads of angst, mentions of major health trauma (it’s heart related, so be warned before reading, as I don’t want to trigger anyone), that angsty angst, but with a happy ending, & obvious smut/nsfw content that will appear later in the story!
A/N: Sneak peek/teaser into my new series, and the first one I’m publishing for this fandom — That House In Indiana (inspired by Ethel Cain’s ‘A House In Nebraska’. Lyrics below that I obviously don’t own) There will be a happy ending, so don’t worry! I’ve also drawn off myself for the situation with Wayne, based off what happened to my own dad. It’s pretty rough, but Wayne will be okay — I promise! He has a health crisis in this that might trigger some people, so please DON’T read if you know it’ll upset you! And let me know what y’all think if you do read, please and thank you? ❤️💘❤️💘
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February 1st, 1990
~*~
Labored breaths and bed sores, sing it to me all day long
When the aching sound of silence used to be our favorite song
You and me against the world, you were my man and I your girl
We had nothing except each other, you were my whole world
Then the day came and you were up and gone
And I still call home that house in Nebraska
Where we found each other on a dirty mattress on the second floor
Where the world was empty, save you and I
Where you came and I laughed, and you left and I cried
Where you told me even if we died tonight, that I'd die yours
~*~
Shaking hands with chipped polish of a once fresh manicure, now worried down from alternating chewed grinds between chattering teeth and trembling lips, stained with overflowing salt — switch to a tight grip around a faded leather steering wheel, the cracking leather mingling with that of rustling denim. Scattered neon pink chips spray nail beds, making you twitch with the need to placate that urgency in your guts that pummels the muscles, seizing those in your eyes to force you to glance at where the gold band used to sit, used to distract you so perfectly. You were sure that you’d gotten over that. Funny what delusions the mind can bank on to get you through destruction and pain. You sniffle upon a jagged exhale, breath coming out choppy and overused.
Your body feels stuck to the seats, melted into a frozen statue. You really don’t want to be you, to think. Hell, your thoughts border on everything they shouldn’t, all the what-ifs, the blames, past tragedies, and your wishes that if this was the end result — maybe it would’ve been better if you died that night in the Spring of 1986. Long drives that aren’t in line with the simplicity of five minutes, you’d avoided for the last two years. Four hours from your one bedroom townhouse in Illinois to a hotel room in your hometown of Hawkins, Indiana — you’re a prisoner to your psyche.
You’ll see your crumbling dream in the form of white plaster, broken wood planks, and rotten rose bushes, frosted across shattered glass windows — ones you had stewed over for days on what color would look the best for curb appeal, and a large for sale sign in the front yard that was once littered with the cars of friends and loved ones. That very same home, the one you had shaped with your partner, that curly haired, doe eyed boy that you first met when he gave you money to pay for the groceries you couldn’t quite afford when you were fifteen, unbeknownst to you that it was his last five dollars, but he gave it to you because he knew you needed it more. He’d be fine as long as you were. You don’t have to try to embrace every whisper his hands had gifted your skin with. Your walls are gone, body ripped open and bare for the entire town you’d left behind two years ago.
The scenery is starting to fill in, barren trees near bloom. Maybe an early Spring, you can’t be sure? Your tires click against wet asphalt when you turn, splashing water on the chrome body of your car as you head into the embankment of treetops that glow, entwined into an arch that blankets the road in charcoal shadows. You manage to raise your hand to hit your windshield wipers, crystal clearing in a thick smear. Your sclera, however, floods over, lashes sticking to raw under eyes, puffy and exerted. You swallow harshly around a raw and wet throat, foot accelerating the gas pedal. You have to get there.
You haven’t slept since you heard his voice, your ears floating into a familiar peak, a swell of overwhelming longing stealing every ounce of breath from your lungs, trapping your diaphragm beneath whimpers not cried. You knew right away that something wasn’t okay. He called for the first time in years, he was in the place of his uncle, your confusion palpable as you hadn’t expected the youth for the familiarity of your weekly calls with his own family. You could hear his deep voice, raspy and shrouded in painful storms unmatched. Your body was like a dead weight, fingers struggling to hold onto the receiver, tone a mere whisper, one that felt like broken glass being dragged out through your windpipes.
“What’s wrong, Eds?”
“He… I, Y/N—“ Like a plea that was too silent to fully find its vessel, his voice became caked with an ocean of tears, thick like the swamps of isolating despair.
You’d almost resorted to begging, but you had known, even then, Eddie always took his own path to processing grief. Resisting an instinctual soothe towards him was like rejecting the air that earth offered you.
Your fingers prickled in an uncomfortable heat, numb and dulled, tongue heavy and choking you. The same as that night you awaited to hear whatever horror Hawkins had dropped into your lives once more.
“It’s Wayne.” There was an eerie quietness as Eddie had caught up with himself and moved forward enough to inform you. You couldn’t have stopped the gasping cry that left your mouth if you’d taped it shut.
He’d wanted nothing more than to reach through the phone and take you into his arms, needing to remember what the heartbeat of another human felt like, more specifically — his human. But you weren’t, you hadn’t been, and he wasn’t calling you to tell you that. You loved his uncle like a father. Having to break this news, to lay a layer of pavement over your spirit and let it dry, driving over it to forget, Eddie guiding your heart into another turmoil — it made him want to attempt to dislocate his own jaw.
“What about Wayne? Please tell me what’s going on?” You lost every piece you’d mangled together, helpless to their violent disappearance.
Eddie had trembled as he sighed, shaky and worn. “He had a heart attack a few hours ago.”
Your organ had begun to lose traction, beating sporadically that you were sure some of your bones had been reduced to ash beneath the forceful erratic rhythm. Leaving behind everything but your shoes, coat, keys, and purse, you were already at your front door, phone cord stretching with you. “I’m coming home. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Yeah. Kay. I’ll be here.” Eddie sounded lost, that light he’d accumulated in his lifetime, part of it was dimming. He couldn’t lose the one person that had been with him his whole life. You were already gone. This would devour him whole.
You sit up straight in your seat, the action causing your back to crack. You take a few deep breaths, engrossed in the glossy branches in your sky view, thunder roaring in the distance, your vehicle approaching the clearing and ready to hit that final road that will take you home.
~*~
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queen-of-deans-booty · 4 months ago
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The Executioner's Song: Part Two
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.8k
Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst
Summary: As the newly formed Scarlet Witch, you're not letting anyone get in your way to true power, not even Dean. The power you feel is like no other, and not even Cain is a match for you. Sure is cute to watch him try, though.
Season Ten Masterlist
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3
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Dean informs Cas they'll meet him in Illinois at a motel where he's at. It's a long drive that you'd rather not be taking with the Winchesters but it's better than stealing a car or being cramped on a bus. Cas takes his time in meeting you and when he does, his eyes immediately look you over. Not only are your clothes different from what you usually wear, but there's something about your demeanor that's different. Not only did Cain kill Tommy but he's killed dozens and left them in unmarked graves off the beaten path.
What the hell is he doing?
"I'm sorry I couldn't bring better news, Dean."
"It's not your fault, Cas," Dean sighs.
Sam gets the sheriff on the phone in regards to the case and Cas looks at you in concern.
"How are you doing?"
"I've honestly never been better," you grin.
Red magic dances around both palms and Cas' entire face falls at this realization.
"You have magic again. That's chaos magic."
"And loving every minute of it," you grin.
"You know why we're hunting Cain, so why are you here?"
"What, like I have to tell you everything I do? Let's not forget who kept a secret agenda when you were working with Crowley, hm?"
"Yes, look how well that turned out. I let the Leviathans loose."
"Yeah, you did," you smirk, "but I'm more dangerous than a Leviathan." You walk closer to Cas and get in his personal space. "Stay out of my way and we won't have a problem."
"Thanks," Sam says and hangs up the phone. "Okay, the sheriff gave me a few more names and some preliminary IDs on the bodies."
"And?"
"It seems to fit Cas' story. I mean, there's no way to tell the relation to Cain, obviously, but he's wiping out entire families, one after another."
"Okay, who's next? Is he done with the Tollivers?"
"I think so. I mean, Leon didn't have any siblings or any other children I can see, and Tommy was never married so I--" Sam continues to look and curses. "Damn it."
"What?"
"Tommy did have a son who lives with his mother in Ohio. Austin Reynolds, twelve years old."
"Is the kid still alive?"
Sam pulls up a Facebook account for the mother where she posts pictures of her and her kid.
"As of an hour ago, yeah. His other updated her status. It's a kid. You don't really think Cain would kill him, do you?"
"Yes, he would," Cas nods.
"There were old men in those graves, Sam, and women. You heard Cas. It's a fire sale. Everyone must go. We gotta get to Ohio."
"Then what? What do you plan on doing?"
"I'll do what I have to do. I'll kill Cain."
"Yes, let's do that. Let's find Cain and kill him," you say with a smile.
All three men look at you weirdly.
"You want to kill Cain to help me?"
"Like I'm doing this for you," you scoff. "Can needs to die and I'm going to help. I'll be in the car."
You grab your jacket and go to the car, leaving the men inside the motel room. Dean waits until the door closes to openly talk about you. He doesn't want you to know that he's still trying to look for the cure for you. Whether or not you want it, you're going to get it. He's not going to let you ruin your life over something like the Mark.
"She's getting worse, Cas. I didn't realize she could have magic. Her soul is gone."
"I didn't see this coming. The effect of the Mark on her must be more powerful than I thought. Let me check on her soul." He raises his hand and passes it over Dean's head, and a white light shines from his palm. "Her soul still isn't ready. Even if there is a sliver of darkness, her magic and the Mark will feed that darkness until her entire soul is black again. We have to keep waiting."
Dean sighs in frustration. He didn't want to hear that news. It's going to be a lot harder to get your soul inside of you now that you have magic. You'll put up a helluva fight for it.
"You know she's not planning anything good, right?"
"Yeah but we have to take her with us or I have a feeling people will die," Sam says. "One problem with killing Cain. How are you going to put him down?"
"Well, there's only one thing that can kill him. The Blade."
"Dean, wielding the Blade against Cain himself... Win or lose, you may never come back from that fight."
"I know," Dean sighs, "but I won't be alone. I don't know what Y/N is planning but she wants Cain dead and having a witch on my side will definitely help. There's only one person who knows where the Blade is."
Dean takes out his phone and calls Crowley.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't--"
"Cain's back," Dean cuts him off. "He's gone dark and I need the Blade."
"Why would I do that for you?"
"Because you have as much reason to want Cain off the board as anyone. Cain has a kill list and you're on it." Sam and Cas stay quiet knowing Dean is lying to him. "What do you say, Crowley? You in?"
"Yes."
"Good. I'll text you the location." Sam, Dean, and Cas finally come out of the motel room and pile into the car. "Surprised you're still here."
"Like I said before, Cain needs to die and I'm just here to provide help. I reckon you'll fuck it up somehow."
You travel to Ohio to the farm you know where Austin is living at. The mother isn't home for unknown reasons but Austin is in the barn to pass the time until it's time to go to bed.
"Is the kid here?" Dean asks.
"He's upstairs inside the barn. He's playing with a basketball," Cas answers.
"Cain will strike soon. Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, but soon. When he does..."
"Yeah, I got it," Sam sighs. "You charge in with the Blade with Y/N. What about the kid? We just watch and wait until Cain attacks? I thought this was a rescue mission."
"We save the kid after Cain shows. We know what Cain's after. That's our only advantage. We want to trap Cain, we use it."
"Using a twelve-year-old as bait? I can't believe what I'm hearing," Sam scoffs.
"Neither can I."
You turn to see Crowley approaching the small group. You immediately see red at seeing his fat smug face. 
"What's the matter, Crowley? Did you suddenly grow a conscience? Too good to put a minor in danger?" Dean asks.
"Don't give a damn about the kid. I'm talking about the risk to us."
"There is no us. You're here for one reason. That's to hand me the Blade."
"Yeah, about that. Seeing as this is shaping up to be one of those two-step capture-then-kill kind of deals, I think your buddies would agree it's better to keep the Blade out of both your hands until we've got Cain sewn up, just to be safe. Now, back to this plan of yours."
You push Sam and Dean out of the way and storm over to Crowley. His eyes widen the second he sees red magic pouring out of your hands. You hold him in place and get all up in his personal space.
"I was lenient with you before but now, I don't give a rat's ass if you die or not. Fuck us over even slightly and I'll destroy you from the inside out. Got it?"
Crowley nods and you remove the hold you have on him. Dean and Sam are so concerned with Austin that you don't care if he is used as bait. Sam thought of the not-so-brilliant plan of having Crowley make an illusion of Austin so that he could get him and his mom out of the state and far from Cain. Everyone agrees to that but you don't care as long as you get Cain's head on a stick.
He's coming soon, you can feel it. He's getting closer with every second that passes. Crowley agrees to get the Blade but he won't hand it over until Cain is trapped. Cas went with Crowley to make sure he wasn't lying about helping.
"So, if this works and we capture Cain, then what?" Sam asks.
You look at the brothers who are talking on the side. You're close enough to hear their conversation.
"We'll cross that bridge when we--if we come to it." Dean pauses. "You know last week, I've always known this job would be the death of me. I knew I'd go out swinging. I'm at peace with that. I just didn't realize the time would come so soon, you know, like right now. I'm scared, Sam."
You groan loudly and turn to the brothers with an emotionless face.
"If you're so scared, go run to Mommy. Or I can give you something to be scared about." You walk over to Dean. "Man up, take that Blade, and ram it into his chest."
"If you have the Mark, why don't you kill him?"
"You know, I would, but watching this Mark destroy you is just too much fun," you smile but then lose it seconds later. "Quit being a baby and do your damn job."
Cain comes an hour later searching for Austin. The illusion Crowley made is inside the barn playing basketball. You, Sam, and Dean are waiting in the shadows. The brothers made a big devil's trap in the middle of the barn and covered it with dirt and hay so that Cain wouldn't be suspicious when he walked in. Cain knocks over something on the ground causing Austin to stop playing ball.
"Is someone there?" Austin asks and looks around the barn.
"Hello, Austin."
Austin turns and sees Cain standing in the doorway of the barn.
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to kill you."
Cain pulls a knife from under his coat but Cas jumps in to save the illusion.
"No, you won't."
"You can't stop me."
Cas raises his hand toward Cain with bright blue eyes. Light emanates from his palm at the same time the wind picks up inside the barn. Cain's hair blows back a little but isn't fazed by Cas' powers. Cain points his knife at Cas and flicks it to the right, causing Cas' angel blade to fly out of his hand. He flicks the knife to the left and Cas flies through the air to the other side of the barn, crashing into the side of a pickup truck.
"Don't, please," Austin says flatly.
Cain walks over to Austin and stabs him in the stomach, and Austin disappears in a cloud of purple smoke.
"Illusion spell. That's 18th-century magic." Crowley walks into the barn. "If I had to hazard a guess, Rune of Amaranth."
"Good eye. Something I picked up from my mother," he smirks.
"I know you fear me. I can only assume..." Cain kicks some of the dirt away from the floor to reveal the devil's trap he walked into. "Clever. It won't hold me for long, you know."
"It won't need to."
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Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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layce2015 · 1 year ago
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Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)
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The Rapture
Masterlist pt 1
Masterlist pt 2
"Well, what did he say, Dean? What was so important?" I asked Dean as the three of us walk through a warehouse, flashlights on. Dean had woke both of us and said that Cas had visited him in his dream and told him to meet him here. 
"If I knew, would I be here?" Dean asked me, annoyed, as we ascend a set of stairs. "Don't get snippy with me, Winchester." I said, warningly, just as we walked up the stairs to see destruction and dead bodies. "What the hell?" I said, shocked. "It looks like a bomb went off." Sam said. "There was a fight here." Dean points out. "Between who?" I asked while Dean's flashlight beam lands on a symbol painted in blood on the wall.
"Check it out. Look familiar?" He asked us. "Yeah, it does." Sam said. "Anna used something like that to wish the angels back to the cornfield." I said.
"So, what? Cas was fighting angels?" Sam asked. "I don't know." Dean said as we look around. "Sam. (Y/n)." Dean calls out and we run over to see Cas under some rubble..
"Cas? Cas. Hey, Cas?" Dean asked and Castiel starts to wake up. "What's...? What's..? What's going on?" He asked, in a voice that wasn't his own. Normally, Castiel has this deep gravelly sounding voice, this guy...he sounded like a normal guy. "Just take it easy. Take it easy." I assured him as we help him up.
"Oh. No." Cas mutters. "Cas, you okay?" Sam asked. "Ugh. Castiel. I'm not Castiel. It's me." Cas, or not Cas, said.  "Who's me?" I asked him. "Jimmy. My name's Jimmy." Jimmy replied. "Where the hell is Castiel?" Dean asked him. "He's gone." Jimmy replied.
We bring Jimmy back to the hotel, where he sits at the table and devours a hamburger, almost like he hadn't eaten in years. "You mind slowing down? You're gonna give me angina." Dean said. "I'm hungry." Jimmy said.
"When's the last time you ate?" Sam asked him. "I don't know. Months." Jimmy said before taking another bite of his hamburger and then continues to eat ravenously. "What the hell happened back there? It looked like an angel battle royale." I said. "All I remember is a flash of light and I, uh . . . I woke up and I was just, you know, like, me again." Jimmy replied, shrugging.
"So, what? Cas just ditched out of your meat suit?" Dean asked Jimmy. "I really don't know." He replied. "You remember anything about being possessed? Anything at all?" Sam asked him. "Yeah, bits and pieces. I mean, angel inside of you, it's kinda like being chained to a comet." Jimmy said.
"Ah, that doesn't sound like much fun." I remarked. "Understatement." Jimmy grumbles. "Cas said he wanted to tell us something. Please tell me you remember that." Sam said and Jimmy thinks for a moment then shakes his head. "Sorry." He said.
"Come on, what do you know?" Dean asked. "My name is Jimmy Novak. I'm from Pontiac, Illinois." He said and then he tells us about his family and how Castiel possessed him.
"So, what do we do?" Sam asked as him, Dean and I stand outside. "What do you mean? The guy's got a family. We buy him a bus ticket, send him home." Dean said. "I don't know about that. Dean, he's the only lead we got." Sam said.  He doesn't know anything." Dean said. "Are you 100 percent about that?" Sam asked and I look up at him.
"You think he's lying? What, you wanna go Guantanamo on the guy?" I asked him. "(Y/n), maybe he doesn't even know what he knows." Sam said, confusing me. "Huh?" Dean and I said. "I say, at least we get him to Bobby's. Maybe all he needs is hypnosis or a psychic. Or hell, maybe Cas will just drop back into him." Sam suggests. "I don't know, man." Dean said, unsure.
"Dean, back there, that was angel-on-angel violence. Now, I don't know what's going on, but it's big. And we can't just let the only lead we got just skip out." Sam said and Dean shakes his head.
"What?" Sam asked. "You remember when our job was helping people? Like, getting them back to their families?" Dean asked Sam. "You think I don't want to help him? I'm just being realistic. I mean, hell, we're doing him a favor." Sam said. "How?" I asked him, suspiciously. "Guys, if we want to question the guy, you can damn well bet the demons do, too." Sam said and I look over at Dean, who sighs in defeat.
"The hell are you talking about, I can't go home?" Jimmy asked us after we come back into the motel and talked to him. "There's a good chance you have a bull's-eye on your back." Dean said to him. "What? From who?" Jimmy asked. "Demons." I said and he looks at us, confused. "Come on, that's crazy. What do they want with me?" He asked.
"I don't know, information, maybe?" I said, shrugging. "I don't know anything." Jimmy exclaimed. "I know, but –" Dean started to say but Jimmy talks over him. "Look, I'm done, okay? With demons, angels, all of it. I just want to go home." He exclaims. "We understand." Dean said. "I don't think that you do understand. I've been shot and stabbed and healed, and my body has been dragged all over the Earth. By some miracle, I'm out, and I am done. I've given enough, okay?" Jimmy shouts.
"Look, all we're saying is that until we figure this out, the safest place is with us." Sam said. "How long?" Jimmy asked, calming down a bit. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." said Sam but Jimmy shakes his head and tries to move past Sam to get to the door.
"Where are you going?" Dean asked him. "To see my wife and daughter, okay?" Jimmy said. "No, you're not. You're just going to put those people in danger." Sam tells him and he looks between us. "So, what, now I'm a prisoner?" Jimmy asked. "Harsh way to put it." Sam said.
*3rd Person POV*
Sam looks at Jimmy, Dean and (y/n), all of whom appear to be asleep. Sam leaves the room, and Jimmy, quickly, gets up. He sneaks past Dean and (y/n) and leaves the motel room and sneaks pass Sam, who is standing by a vending machine outside of the room. Sam opens a flask of blood, pours the blood out onto his hand, and licks it up greedily.
*(y/n)'s POV*
Sam quickly packs a duffel bag while Dean brushes his teeth and I brush my hair. "Guys. Would you two hurry up?" Sam said, impatiently, and Dean laughs. "Sorry, uh, this is funny to you?" Sam asked him, angrily. "Mr. Big-Bad-Prison-Guard, Jimmy McMook give you the slip? Yeah, it's pretty funny." Dean said.
"What were you doing, anyway?" I asked Sam, suspiciously. "I was getting a Coke." Sam said, defensively. "Was it a refreshing Coke?" I asked him and we stare at each other for a moment before Sam says. "Can we just go, please?"
Later, Dean was driving while Sam sits besides him and I was in the backseat. Neither of us speaks and I look out the window, feeling my eyes drooping. "Hey, guys." a voice said, which made me and the boys jump. "Aah! Jeez." Dean said as he jerks the steering wheel and the Impala swerves before he gets it back under control.
I look next to me and see that the voice belonged to Anna. "Smooth." she said, snarkily. "You ever try calling ahead?" I asked her. "I like the element of surprise." She said, smiling, and I roll my eyes. "Well, you look terrific." Dean said since the last time we saw her, she just burst into a white light and disappeared.
"Um, yeah, not the most appropriate time, Dean. You let Jimmy get away?" She asked. "Talk to ginormo here." Dean said as he nods towards Sam. "Sam. You seem different." Anna said as she looks over at Sam. "Me? I don't know. Heh. A haircut?" Sam said, not sounding normal like he's hiding something. "That's not what I'm talking about." She said and she gives Sam a meaningful look and he looks away. Then she looks at Dean.
"So, what'd Jimmy tell you? He remember anything?" she asked. "Why? What's going on?" I asked her. "It's Cas. He got sent back home. Well, more like dragged back." She said. "To heaven? That's not a good thing?" Dean asked. "No. That's a very bad thing. Painfully, awfully bad. He must have seriously pissed someone off." Anna replied.
"Cas said he had something to tell me. Something important." Dean said. "What?" Anna asked. "I don't know." Dean said. "Does Jimmy know?" Anna asked. "I don't think so." Dean replied. "You don't think so? Whatever it is, it's huge. You gotta find out for sure." Anna said to us, urgently. "That's why we're going after Jimmy." Sam said.  "That's why you shouldn't have let him go in the first place. He's probably dead already." Anna said and Sam looks away from her and Anna sighs.
"She's not gonna be happy with this..." she mutters and I turn to her. "Who's not gonna be happy?" I asked her and Anna looks over at me. "My boss." She replied. "You have a boss?" Dean asked and Anna looks up at him. "Yes, we're trying to prevent the apocalypse but...it's turning out alot harder than we thought." She said. 
"What do you mean by...?" I started to ask but then Anna disappeared and I scoff. "I hate it when they do that, go all Batman on us." I grumbled.
We make it over to Jimmy's house and make our way inside. There we see a man got ahold of Jimmy's daughter and this woman had Jimmy pinned down until she tackled Jimmy's wife. Dean grabs the man and cuts his throat with Ruby's knife, killing him. The woman gets up but is quickly caught by Sam, who stretches out his hand and uses his psychic abilities to begin exorcising her.
Dean and I stare at him. "Go. Get them out of here." Sam tells us and we turn to Jimmy and his daughter. "Go, go." We tell them and they flee and we lead them out. Then we come back in the house and see the woman taunting Sam.
"Aw. Can't get it up, can you, Sam?" She asked and I grabbed Ruby's knife out of Dean's hand. "No, but I can." I said and I go to stab her but the demon leaves its host body. Dean grabs Sam and we run out to the Impala. "Come on, come on, come on, come on." Dean said and we see Jimmy and his daughter.
"Thank God." Jimmy said, relieved. "Where's your wife?" Dean asked him. "Right here." She said as she comes up to us. "Let's go." Dean said and we all get into the Impala.
Later, we stand outside of the Impala with Jimmy, at a parking lot, while Jimmy's wife and daughter, Amelia and Claire, sit in the back seat of the Impala. "You were right." Jimmy said, defeated. "I'm sorry we were." Dean said, apologetically.
"I'm telling you, I don't know anything." Jimmy said. "I don't think they're inclined to believe you." I said to him. "And even if they did, you're a vessel. They're still gonna wanna know what makes you tick." Sam said. "Which means vivisection, if they're feeling generous." Dean said. "I'm gonna tell you once again, you're putting your family in danger. You have to come with us." I said to him.
"How long? And don't give me that cross that bridge when we get to it crap." Jimmy said, annoyed. "Don't you get it? Forever. The demons will never stop. You can never be with your family. So you either get as far away from them as possible or you put a bullet in your head. And that's how you keep your family safe. But there's no getting out and there's no going home." Sam tells him and Jimmy looks at him, horrified. "Well, don't sugarcoat it, Sam." Dean said. "I'm just telling him the truth, Dean. Someone has to." Sam said and Dean and I share a look.
Jimmy opens the back door of the Impala to speak to Amelia, Claire is asleep next to her. "Hey. So I pretty much owe you the biggest apology ever." Amelia said. "No, you don't." Jimmy said. "Yes, I do. I'm so sorry, Jimmy. And I will never, ever forgive myself for letting you walk out that door." Amelia said  "Well, you did what any rational person would have done. I mean, hell, I thought I was crazy half the time." Jimmy said, a bit of a chuckle in his voice.
"So demons, huh?" Amelia said. "Yeah." Jimmy said. "Can we..? Can we even go home, or...? What are we gonna do?" Amelia asked. "These boys and this lady are gonna get you a car, don't ask me how, and you're gonna take Claire to Carl and Sally's as fast as you can." Jimmy tells her. "Wait. What about you?" She asked and Jimmy doesn't reply.
"No, I'm not going anywhere without you, Jimmy." she said and it, honestly, made me a bit teary eyed. I guess it reminded me when I thought I'd never see Dean again before he was taken to Hell.
"Listen to me. Every moment that I'm with you, you and Claire are in danger." Jimmy said. "I don't care. We are not splitting up again." Amelia said. "We don't have a choice." he said. "For how long?" she asked him. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." he said.
"We're a family." Amelia cried. "They will kill you, Amelia, and they'll kill Claire. You just have to get as far away from me as you can." Jimmy said then he and his wife embrace and I look down then I felt an arm go around my waist.
I look over and see the arm belong to Dean and I look at him as he pulls me close to his side. I place my right arm around his waist and we stare at each other. Then he leans his forehead against mine and I closed my eyes and we stay like this for a few moments.
Minutes later, Sam hotwires a car while Amelia waits and Jimmy was standing next to Claire. "Okay, so, uh, here's your car." Sam said and Jimmy turns to Claire. "Hey. Take care of your mom, okay, bub?" He said. "Okay." She said and she and Amelia get into the car and Jimmy and I get into the backseat of the Impala while Dean drives and Sam in the passenger seat.
"What the hell happened back there?" Dean asked Sam sometime later. Rain had begun to pour down and Jimmy was asleep next to me. "What?" Sam asked Dean. "You practically fainted trying to gank a demon." Dean said. "Okay, I didn't faint. I got a little dizzy." Sam said. "Well, you can call it whatever you want. Point is, you used to be strong enough to kill Alastair. Now you can't even kill a stunt-demon number three?" Dean asked.
"What do you want me to say about it, Dean?" Sam asked, annoyed. "Well for starters, what's going on with your mojo? I mean, it's yo-yoing all over the place. I'm not trying to pick a fight here, okay? I just – you're scaring me, man." Dean said. "I'm scaring myself." Sam mutters and I lean forward. "Sam, what's going on with you? Just...talk to us, please." I said and he looks at me before his phone rings.
"Hello?" He answered. "Who is this?" He asked then he turns and holds the phone out to Jimmy. "Hey. It's your wife." He said and I pat Jimmy's arm and he wakes up. "Your wife's on the phone." I tell him and he takes Sam's phone. "Amelia?" He asked then his eyes widen in fear. "Oh, my God."
We pulled up to a warehouse and got out of the car, thinking of a plan. Jimmy said that his wife was possessed by a demon and they, of course, wanted him. They also had Claire. "Alright, they're expecting you to come alone. That's exactly what you're gonna do." Dean said. "We'll work our way through the catwalks. We'll be right behind you." Sam said. "All you gotta do is stay calm and stall. Let us do our job." I tell him as Jimmy seems to freak out.
"You want me to stay calm? This is my family we're talking about." He said, panicked. "Listen to me, this will work. You understand? Nobody's gonna get hurt." Dean assures him and Jimmy sighs.
"Yeah, whatever. Give me a minute, okay?" He said and he walks away from us, towards the warehouse. "There's no way they're expecting him to come alone, Dean. You know this is probably a trap." Sam said. "Yeah, I know. That's why I have a plan." Dean said. 
*3rd Person POV*
Jimmy walks towards the warehouse and begins to shout at the sky. "Castiel, you son of a bitch! You promised me my family would be okay. You promised you were gonna take care of them. I gave you everything you asked me to give. I gave you more. This is the thanks I get? This is what you do? This is your heaven? Help me, please. You promised, Cas. Just help me." he shouts and there was no answer and he shakes his head. "Typical." He mutters and he enters the warehouse.
Amelia stands next to Claire, who is tied to a chair and unconscious. "Hi, honey. You're home." Amelia said, mockingly. "Listen, I'm – I'm begging you here. You do whatever you want with me, but my wife and daughter, they're just – they're not a part of this." Jimmy said. "Oh, they're a big part of this, Jimmy. And P.S. You should've come alone." She said.
"I am alone." Jimmy said. "Oh, you're such a liar. Like I didn't think you'd bring Heckle, Jeckle and Hyde, hmm?" Amelia said just as Sam, Dean and (y/n) are lead into the room by three demons, who hold them prisoner.
"Nice plan, Dean." (Y/n) grumbles. "Yeah, well, nobody bats 1,000." Dean said. "Got the knife?" Amelia asked and the demon holding Sam, holds up Ruby's knife to show her.
"And you know what's funny?" Amelia asked. "You wearing a soccer mom?" Dean snarks. "Is I was actually bummed to get this detail, picking up an empty vessel. Sort of like a milk run. Now look who landed in my lap." Amelia said. "Yeah, well, you got us, okay? Let these people go." Sam demanded  "Oh, Sam. It's easy to act chivalrous when your Wonder Girl powers aren't working, huh? Now for the punch line. Everybody dies." Amelia said then she holds up a gun and shoots Jimmy in the gut. (Y/n) gasped as he falls to his knees and Amelia turns to one of the demon holding (y/n).
"Waste Little Orphan Annie." She ordered and she leaves the room while the Demon walks around Jimmy and towards Claire, who is still tied to a chair and unconscious. The demon picks up a pipe and swings it towards Claire, but she suddenly grabs the pipe in one hand and places the other hand on the demon's forehead.
The demon screams as he is exorcised in a bright light. Using the distraction, the boys and (y/n) turn on the Demons holding them. While they struggle, Claire, who is now possessed by Castiel, burns away the ropes holding her. Jimmy lies on the ground, bleeding, and looks at her in horror.
"Castiel." He said, weakly, while Dean, Sam and (y/n) continue to fight the demons. Sam gets Ruby's knife back from the female demon and holds her down, staring at her neck. (Y/n) fights the male demon until he knocks her down then fights Dean and pummeles him until Castiel approaches and places her hand on his head, exorcising him.
Sam cuts the neck of the female demon and drinks her blood. He turns, mouth still bloody, to see Dean, (y/n) and Castiel, still in Claire's body, watching him in horror. Sam turns back and stabs the demon through the heart with Ruby's knife, killing her, and then turns towards the trio again.
He stands and holds out his hand, just in time to catch Amelia and exorcise her with his recharged psychic powers. Dean and (y/n) hold Amelia up and Castiel goes over to Jimmy, who is dying from his gunshot wound. "Of course we keep our promises. Of course you have our gratitude. You served us well. Your work is done. It's time to go home now. Your real home. You'll rest forever in the fields of the Lord. Rest now, Jimmy." Castiel tells Jimmy.
"No. Claire?" Jimmy said. "She's with me now. She's chosen. It's in her blood, as it was in yours." Castiel said. "Please, Castiel. Me, just take me. Take me, please." Jimmy pleads as Sam, Dean and Amelia approach them but hold back when they see them talking. "I wanna make sure you understand. You won't die or age. If this last year was painful for you, picture a hundred, a thousand more like it." Castiel tells him.
"It doesn't matter. You take me. Just take me." Jimmy pleads and Castiel looks him over. "As you wish." She said then she touches Jimmy's face and a bright light emanates from his eyes and mouth. Claire drops to her hands and knees, and Castiel, now in Jimmy's body, stands up. He walks past Amelia and stands next to Sam, Dean and (y/n). Amelia runs to Claire and embraces her then her and Castiel's eyes meet, and then he turns to go.
"Cas, hold up. What were you gonna tell me?" Dean asked him as he stops him. "I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean. I serve heaven, I don't serve man, and I certainly don't serve you." Castiel said and he walks away while the trio watch.
Later, Dean drives through the rain in silence, Sam in the back seat and (y/n) in the passenger seat. "All right, let's hear it." Sam sighs. "What?" Dean and (y/n) asked. "Drop the bomb, guys. You saw what I did. Come on, stop the car, take a swing." Sam said. "I'm not gonna take a swing." Dean said, calmly. "Then scream, chew me out." Sam yells. "I'm not mad, Sam." Dean said.
"Come on. You're not mad?" Sam asked. "Nope." Dean said and Sam looks over at (y/n), who shrugs and shakes her head. "Right. Look, at least let me explain myself." Sam said. "Don't. I don't care." Dean said. "You don't care?" Sam asked, confused. "What do you want me to say, that I'm disappointed? Yeah, I am. But, mostly, I'm just tired, man. I'm done. I am just done." Dean said, in a tired voice, then Sam's cellphone rings. He answers it.
"Hey, Bobby." Sam said. "Hey, you, your brother and (y/n) better shag ass to my place ASAP." Bobby said. "What's going on?" Sam asked. "The apocalypse, genius. Now get your asses over here." Bobby ordered, firmly, and Sam hangs up his phone. "What'd he say?" (Y/n) asked him.
Later, Bobby lead Sam, Dean and (y/n) approach the door to the panic room. "Well, thanks for shaking a tail." Bobby said. "Yeah, you got it." Dean said as Sam opens the door. "Go on inside. I wanna show you something." Bobby said and Sam walks into the panic room while Dean, (y/n) and Bobby hang back.
"All right. So, uh, what's the big demon problem?" Sam asked. "You are. This is for your own good." Bobby said and they close to and lock the door. Sam walks to the barred window. "Guys? Hey, hey. What?" He shouts and Bobby closes and latches the window.
"This isn't funny. Guys! Hey! Guys?" Sam shouts, panicked.
@rach5ive @kitsun369 @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @ellie-andthemachine
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jacksepticeye-simp · 2 years ago
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Masterlist/Intro + DNIs
Hello, my name is Andrew! I'm ftm and use he/him pronouns. My favorite colour is red and my favorite youtubers are Markiplier & Jacksepticeye! You can see which characters I write for and their respective tags underneath my fandom list! Please don't ask me for money or advertise things in my inbox as I don't have any money.
Wattpad: Jacksepticeye-simp
AO3: jacksepticeyesimp
Side blogs: @antisepticeye-simp @mostdefinetlyjackieboyman @pigeon-detector @divine-ceo
Green = Will do/Interact/No TWs
Yellow/Orange = May not do/Thin ice/Very light TWs
Red: Will not do/Do not Interact/Very sensitive TWs/Dead dove
I will do:
Drawings (See 'Will not do' for more details)
Smut (See 'Will not do' for more details)
Ships (See 'Will not do' for more details)
Markiplier egos
RP (See 'Will not do' for more details)
Jacksepticeye egos
Yandere stuff
Polyamory stuff
X reader stories
Enemies to lovers
Female Readers
Gender Neutral Readers
Transgender Readers
AFAB/AMAB readers
Male Readers
Semi spicy/suggestive stuff (See 'Will not do' for more details)
Interact:
Markiplier fans
Jacksepticeye fans
BATIM fans
FNAF fans
LGBTQ+ and/or allies
Crankgameplays fans
Gacha community
Amyplier lovers (Mark x Amy)
Cat lovers
I might do:
Crankgameplays egos (I don't know much about his egos but I'll do my best to research about them)
Thin Ice:
MHA fans
Harry Potter fans
Will NOT do under any circumstance:
Incest
Porn (I'm a minor, I don't think I should be drawing that stuff)
Youtuber ships (Septiplier, crankiplier, whatever. Shipping real people is weird as fuck unless they're okay with it or are actually dating.)
Pedophilia
Romantic/Romance RPs (Unless its a very specific ship)
Explicit RPs
Private DM RPs (Personal pref to do rp through asks and reblogs)
Student x Teacher
Rape
Non-con
Watersports
Scat
Heavy pet play
Parent kinks
Heavy breeding kink
Dub-con
Abuse of any kind
DNI:
Religious people
Septiplier/Crankiplier shippers
Cat haters
People who like shotacons/lolicons
Proshippers
Racists
Homophobes
Transphobes
JK Rowling supporters/defenders
FANDOMS:
My tag list
(Some of this might be dead dove, be aware)
Markiplier egos:
Googleplier (#bluevoltage):
Beautiful (Yandere Googeplier x Gender Neutral reader || TW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT/ IMPLIED BODILY MUTILATION)
Perfection (Part 2 of 'Beautiful' || TW: {DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT?}|| IMPLIED BODILY MUTILATION)
Murdock (#serotoninslasher):
This category seems to be empty, check back later!
Wilford Warfstache:
Confession (Wilford Warfstache x GN! Reader || TWs: None)
Illinois Jones (#headstronghunk):
Illinois Jones & the quest for the shadow sapphire, PROLOUGE
Illinois Jones & the quest for the shadow sapphire, Part 1
Heist! Mark:
This category seems to be empty, check back later!
Mayor Damien (#mysteriousmayor):
This category seems to be empty, check back later!
Darkiplier (suiteshadow):
Vulnerable (Darkiplier x Female Reader || TWs: None)
Behind the door (Darkiplier x reader || TW: Petrification)
Welcome Home, PROLOGUE (Darkiplier x reader)
Welcome Home, Part 1 (Darkiplier x reader)
Welcome Home, Part 2 (Darkiplier x reader)
Welcome Home, Part 3 (Darkiplier x reader)
Welcome Home, Part 5 (Darkiplier x reader)
Welcome Home, Part 4 (Darkiplier x reader|| TW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT / IMPLIED DRUGGING)
Welcome home, Part 6 (Darkiplier x reader||TW: MURDER/IMPLIED LIGHT VIOLENCE)
Pains (Werewolf! Darkiplier x GN! reader || TWs: None)
Gratitude (Jackieboy Man x Reader x Darkiplier) || Part 1 || TWs: None ||
Date night (Darkiplier x reader x Antisepticeye || Polyamorous || TWs: Very light fighting between Dark and Anti, mentions of blood)
Head Engineer Mark (headheartthrob):
Confident (Head Engineer Mark x reader || TWs: Implied spicyness? || Completely SFW ||)
Yancy (#musicaljailbird):
This category seems to be empty, check back later!
Annus:
This category seems to be empty, check back later!
Bingiplier:
This category seems to be empty, check back later!
The God of Night:
This category seems to be empty, check back later!
The Necromancer:
This Category seems to be empty, check back later!
Septic Egos
Antisepticeye (#moldingmalware):
Panic Attack (Antisepticeye x reader || Platonic || TWs: Panic attack/ mentions of arguing)
Date night (Darkiplier x reader x Antisepticeye || Polyamorous || TWs: Very light fighting between Dark and Anti, mentions of blood)
Jameson Jackson (mutedmuse):
This category seems to be empty, check back later!
Chase Brody:
This category seems to be empty, check back later!
Shawn Flynn:
This category seems to be empty, check back later!
Jackieboyman:
Gratitude (Jackieboy Man x Reader x Darkiplier) || Part 1 || TWs: None ||
Marvin the magnificent:
This category seems to be empty, check back later!
Robbie the zombie:
This category seems to be empty, check back later!
Henrik Von Schneeplestein:
This category seems to be empty, check back later!
Ethan Nestor's' egos
Blank gameplays:
This category seems to be empty, check back later!
Unus:
This category seems to be empty, check back later!
Mad Mike:
This category seems to be empty, check back later!
I think that should be it for characters. I'll add more to this in the future.
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littleoddwriter · 1 year ago
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Rules, Guidelines, etc.:
[Used to be: ronaldrx]
I'm a hobby writer and mostly write (x Reader) FanFictions and Headcanons. But I am also working on my original story whenever I can, so that I’ll hopefully publish it as an actual book someday. My Ao3.
Here’s a link to my Ko-Fi, in case you want to support me financially. It would mean a lot to me! (Obviously no obligation whatsoever! You never have to pay for anything on my blog, it’s merely an option for donations.)
Also, here are my sideblogs if you’re interested:
Dead Poets Society
Horror
Raúl Esparza
The Simpsons
Only ask for the characters I’ve got listed, please. I’ve written down all of the ones I actually write for, and the list is being updated regularly, as I often find new (actors, whose) characters I write for! (And yes, I always write for every character, so don’t ever worry if you wanna ask for one I haven’t written for in a long time, or ever, it’s fine!) Please always be patient with me. If I haven’t outright declined your request, it’s definitely in the works; even if it has been weeks or months since you’ve sent it in! And only send your requests via ASKs. No DMs or comments, please.
If you have a request, send an Ask to my inbox.
NO sexual NSFW requests, please (more details further down).
Requests = CLOSED (Max. Limit: 10)
Current number of requests: 10
Last updated: October 29, 2023
Masterlists are linked with fandoms/actors/characters below. I WRITE FOR:
ALFRED MOLINA characters:
Doctor Otto Octavius/Doctor Octopus
DAVID DASTMALCHIAN characters:
Abner Krill/Polka-Dot Man
Bob Taylor
Denham
James Lewis
Johnson
Kurt Goreshter
Lonny Crane
Murdoc
Philippe/Abra Kadabra
Simon Lynch
Thomas Schiff
ETHAN HAWKE characters:
Arthur Harrow
Ellison Oswalt
Goodnight Robicheaux
James Sandin
EWAN MCGREGOR characters:
Alex Law
Catcher Block
Christopher Robin
Curt Wild
Dan Torrance
John Bishop
Mark Renton
Obi-Wan Kenobi 
Roman Sionis/Black Mask* (Birds of Prey - Masc!Reader only) [Any other version of Roman Sionis/Black Mask can be with a Gender Neutral/Female!Reader.]
HUGH DANCY characters:
Adam Raki
Cal Roberts
Luke Brandon
Executive ADA Nolan Price
Will Graham
KARL URBAN characters:
Billy Butcher
Black Hat
John Kennex
Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Markiplier EGOS:
Darkiplier
Illinois
Wilford Warfstache
Yancy
PAUL DANO characters:
Alex Jones/Barry Milland [Platonic only!]
Dwayne Hoover [Platonic only!]
Edward Nashton/The Riddler
Eli Sunday
Jay (Okja)
Joby Taylor
Klitz
PEDRO PASCAL characters:
Agent Whiskey
Dave York
Dio Morrissey
Eddie
Ezra
Francisco “Catfish” Morales
Marcus Moreno
Marcus Pike
Max Phillips
Maxwell Lord
Oberyn Martell
Ricky Hauk
RAÚL ESPARZA characters:
Bobby
Dr. Frederick Chilton*
Jackson Neill
Jonas Nightingale
Rafael Barba
Characters from 9-1-1 (Lone Star):
Carlos Reyes*
Eddie Diaz
Evan “Buck” Buckley
Howard “Chimney” Han
Josh Russo*
Mateo Chavez
Paul Strickland
Bobby Nash
Tim Rosewater
TK Strand*
Characters from Law and Order(: Special Victims Unit):
Detective/ADA Dominick “Sonny” Carisi, Jr.
Sergeant Mike Dodds
Detective Nick Amaro
Executive ADA Nolan Price
ADA Peter Stone
ADA Rafael Barba
Deputy Chief William Dodds
Little Miss Sunshine:
Dwayne Hoover [Platonic only!]
Frank*
Our Flag Means Death:
Edward Teach/Blackbeard*
Frenchie
Izzy Hands
Stede Bonnet*
Prisoners (2013):
Alex Jones/Barry Milland [Platonic only!]
Bob Taylor
Detective David Loki
Renfield (2023):
Count Dracula
Robert Montague Renfield
Tedward “Teddy” Lobo
SLASHERS/Horror Film Characters:
Asa Emory/The Collector
Ash J. Williams [I will usually default to Ash from the TV show, unless requested otherwise!]
Billy Lenz (1974)
Billy Loomis
Bo Sinclair
Brahms Heelshire
Bubba Sawyer/Leatherface (TCM 1974 and TCM 2)
Charles Lee Ray/Chucky
Chop Top Sawyer
Corey Cunningham
Dewey Riley
Drayton Sawyer
Herbert West*
Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull
Lawrence Gordon
Lester Sinclair
Luigi Largo
Mark Hoffman  
Nubbins Sawyer
Pavi Largo
Stu Macher  
Vincent Sinclair
William Easton
Star Wars:
Anakin Skywalker
Obi-Wan Kenobi
Qui-Gon Jinn
The Girl Next Door:
Klitz
Eli
Characters from The Simpsons:
Cecil Terwilliger*
Fat Tony
Frankie the Squealer
Grady*
Jack Lassen
Johnny Tightlips
Julio*
Legs
Louie
Moe Szyslak
Ned Flanders
Otto Mann
Seymour Skinner
Sideshow Bob
Sideshow Mel
Snake Jailbird
Timothy Lovejoy
Waylon Smithers*
What We Do in the Shadows:
Anton (Movie)
Deacon
Guillermo de la Cruz*
Laszlo Cravensworth
Nandor the Relentless
Viago
Vladislav
* Please note that an asterisk (*) means that these characters are Male/Masc/GenderNeutral!Reader only (including non-binary, of course). Platonic relationships with Female!Reader are possible, but no romantic ones.
If it’s a character that is open to all Readers, and you do not specify in your request what you want, I’ll usually opt for a Gender Neutral Reader by default.
SHIPS, such as:
BlackBonnet (OFMD)
SteddyHands (OFMD)
Black Pete x Lucius Spriggs (OFMD)
Buck x Josh Russo (9-1-1)
Dracfield (Renfield 2023)
Buddie (9-1-1)
Eli x Klitz (The Girl Next Door)
Nandermo (WWDITS)
Herbert West x Dan Cain (Re-Animator)
McKirk (Star Trek: AOS)
Oluwande x Jim Jimenez (OFMD)
Barisi (Law & Order SVU) 
Renfield x Teddy Lobo (Renfield 2023)
Sickrent (Trainspotting/T2)
Stobotnik (Sonic Movie)
Tarlos (9-1-1: Lone Star)
AnderPerry (Dead Poets Society)
ZsaszMask (Birds of Prey)
Lastly, I would like to add things I will NOT write (about):
Sexual NSFW fics/headcanons (I used to write those as you can see in my Masterlists, but I have my reasons for not writing them anymore. Any hints at sexual topics are fine).
Anything related to death as the main subject (this includes deadly diseases, anything fatal, really, etc.).
Anything that romanticizes Mental Illness (my Vent Fics about my own disorders obviously do not romanticize any of it and I do not stand for that).
(Recreational) Drug Use
Extreme Possessive Behaviour and/or Jealousy
Yandere
If you have something you would like me to write for, but you do not see it listed anywhere, please ask me before requesting it, so we can talk about it. I hope you enjoy yourself on my blog and have a good time!
My Asks and DMs are always open for any questions or simply to talk!
- Jesse
35 notes · View notes
nach-ito · 2 months ago
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Masterlist + DNIs
Green: I will do.
Amber: Might do.
Red: Won't do.
I will do;
Batman
Markiplier Egos
FNaF mostly
Fandom of Choice
Character x Reader
Types of Book Tropes
Female Readers
Male Readers
Gender Neutral Readers
Fantasy AUs
YA Stories
Semi Spice stories
INTERACT;
Markiplier Fans
FNaF fans
Batman Fans
LGBTQ+ Folks
Readers
Fantasy Book enjoyers
Cats & Coffee lovers
Cars
Motorbikes
Motorsports
Markiplier Fans;
PewDiePie Fans;
I might do;
Smut
Fluff Scenes
Dark Romance
Character x OC Stories
Character x Self Insert Stories
Other types of Book Tropes (MUST be included for it to be decided in the request given)
Will NOT do
Pedophilia
Rape
Watersports
Incest
HEAVY pet play
Parent Kinks
DNI
Anti-LGBTQ+
Religious People
Proshippers
Homophobes
Racists
Transphobes
Political People
Fandoms
Five Nights at Freddie's;
(Movie)William Afton;
(Game)William Afton:
(Movie) Michael Afton;
(Game) Michael Afton;
(Movie) Vanessa;
(Game) Vanessa;
Batman; [some Telltale]
(Movie) Bruce Wayne;
(Game) Bruce Wayne;
(Movie) The Joker;
(Game[Telltale]) John Doe/The Joker;
(Game) Harvey Dent/Two Face;
(Game) Oswald Cobblepot/The Penguin;
(Game) Selina Kyle/Catwoman;
(Movie) Edward Nygma/The Riddler;
(Movie) Pamela Isley/Poison Ivy;
Markiplier Egos;
Murdock;
Wilford Warfstache;
Darkiplier;
Illinois Jones;
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fearfully-fiction · 2 years ago
Text
Ashmore Estates pt.3- Alex Schroeder x Reader
word count:3566
warnings: language, fluff, I think that's it
summary: based on season 4, episode 6 of DF. so all credit goes to the crew, the show, and the channel/network. The packet is read, and it's time to start the investigation.
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(gif not mine!)
“Sequestered within the never-ending cornfields of eastern Illinois, can be found the decaying remains of Ashmore Estates,” Dakota started. “Opened in 1857 as the Coles county poor farm, it had 30 buildings spread across 260 acres,” He continued. “The day-to-day operation of the poor farm was unmonitored leading to unhygienic and unsafe living conditions. In the 1870s alone 12% of the residents passed away. One such inmate was Joe, a maintenance man for the almshouse. He had been walking back from town when he was hit by an oncoming train. Though a good samaritan carried him back home his injuries were too grave and he passed away,” Dakota explained and your heart sank. It always made you sad, when you heard stories like that, life truly was just unfair and unkind sometimes. “That’s so sad,” Chelsea said. “I was just thinking the same thing. I couldn’t even imagine,” you said and leaned your head against Alex’s shoulder. He squeezed your waist as Dakota read on. 
“But perhaps the most tragic death to occur was that of 5-year-old Elva Skinner in 1880 in a building previously on site. She had been left alone inside while the adults went out to work the farm,” He said and your heart dropped. You knew this was going to be terrible, and it was. 
She had passed away after her dress had caught on fire despite them doing everything they could to help her. Everyone at the table was horrified by the way she died. “What a terrible way to die,” Chelsea said and you couldn’t help but nod. There had been accounts of seeing her and hearing giggling. 
“Dude when we were here last time and we were all in our sleeping arrangements there was a girl giggling that was captured on camera,” Dakota brought up. It all came back to you, you remember watching the footage back and it scared the hell out of you. 
“That, like, puts validation to what happened to us,” Dakota said. “And now going back we have a name to go off of,” Alex spoke. “Elva Skinner,” you repeated the little girl's name out loud. 
The packet was handed to Chelsea and she began to read. “Those lucky enough to stay alive had to contend with truly atrocious conditions. Flies reportedly swarmed everywhere and there was noticeably rotten food prepared for dinner,” she explained and you shivered at the thought. “That’s disgusting,” you said and shook your head. 
“By 1916, the conditions were so appalling that the original buildings were torn down and a new one was built in their place, operating for the next 40 years. It then transitioned to a private psychiatric hospital. Allegedly the most violent patients received electroshock treatments. It closed its doors in 1986,” Chelsea stopped. 
“I forgot how layered this place is,” Dakota said. 
The packet was then handed over to Alex. “The most active areas include The first floor. This floor is active with every kind of paranormal activity imaginable,” he said before holding the packet in front of you. You accepted it from him and began to read. 
“The second-floor green room. A former poor house resident named Mary can be found in this room. People have heard her raspy breaths follow them through the building. She’s known for throwing and knocking over items,” You finished and passed it to Tanner. 
“The boiler room. Joe. the former maintenance man is found here. While he is normally friendly if he feels disrespected, he can become quite agitated,” Tanner read. He was known to not like females in the boiler room, they would get shoved, grabbed, and even have their hair pulled. 
You reached for Alex’s hand and he held yours tightly. He knew you didn’t fare well with that kind of information when it came to an overnight. It made you impossibly nervous, and he always made sure that you were ok before, during, and after. 
There was a man who had actually been thrown across the room after defending the girls he was investigating with. 
Alex held you tighter. He knew how much worry you held for your friends and so hearing that was something that made you very uneasy. You got protective easily, and so it was something you didn’t like to hear. 
Alex picked up the packet and began again. “The third floor. This entire floor is incredibly active, especially by the former electroshock therapy room. Though Elva, the five-year-old who passed away on site is known to play up here there is another unknown entity that grabs people appearing as a phantom mist before disappearing completely,” Alex described. That entity was known to cause scratches and hurt anyone who may be vulnerable when up on that floor. It’s like he can sense it and preys on the more sensitive and weak. 
“We did not know about that phantom mist on the third floor, reaching out and grabbing people,” Dakota said. “What I captured on film looked exactly like that description,” Tanner pointed out and it immediately took you back to that night, and what you had seen on camera. It was terrifying, especially back then when you were completely new to all of this. 
“So creepy, like I have the chills right now,” Dakota said and you nodded your head. “I do too, I remember that so well,” you added. 
“To be honest what you caught there was the reason I wanted to see this location so badly,” Alex admitted. “I have to see this for myself,” He added. 
“I think it’s going to be a jam-packed night. What do you say we load some gear and get going,” Alex suggested and you internally cringed at the thought of staying there again. 
“Let’s do it, dude,” Dakota said and Alex replied, “let’s start this night,” 
You all got up and walked back to the RV to get your gear. “I cannot believe we are back here,” You said to yourself as you looked at the building over your shoulder. “It’s been so long, I wonder if they will remember us?” Chelsea wondered aloud. “I bet they will,” you said and shook your head. You headed into the building for the first time in almost 7 years and it took your breath away. It was like taking a step into the past. You remembered your exact words when you first stepped into the building. 
“Guys I think we’re screwed,” you repeated yourself from 7 years ago. “That’s exactly what you said when we first stepped into this place,” Tanner recalled and you chuckled. “Well, it’s equally as true now as it was then,” you said. Everyone chuckled, and Alex walked over to wrap his arms around you. “Everything is going to be just fine, I promise you. I won’t let anything happen to you. I know you can do it, babe,” he said softly and kissed your head. 
“I hate solos, Al,” you spoke quietly. “I know, but just think when it’s over we won’t have to come back. I know you’re nervous, but I also know how strong you are. You have so much more experience than you did last time, I have full confidence that you can handle this. And if anything happens I’m right here, I’m gonna be right here,” he tried to put you at ease. “Ok,” you breathed out and wrapped your arms around him tightly. You pulled away the slightest bit so that you could lean up on your toes to place a kiss on his lips. Your hands clutched the fabric of his shirt tightly and his rested firmly on your hips. 
You pulled away and softly smiled at him. He smiled back before pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead for good measure. 
“You guys ready to start?” Dakota asked and you looked over at him before sighing. “I’m ready when you guys are,” you said and looked up at Alex as if asking him the same question. He just nodded his head. “I’m ready, let’s go,” he said and grabbed your hand in his. 
“So we just got done setting up the gear room, we are about to jump into solos,” Alex announced and you shifted your weight nervously. “Who’s ready?” He asked. “I am never ready for solos,” you told him. “I’m not ready either,” Dakota followed up. Everyone else agreed, and you chuckled. “See, this is not a good idea Alex,” you said and softly glared at him. “You guys will be fine,” he playfully brushed it off and you rolled your eyes. “This is the worst. And we have no flashlights,” Tanner reminded everyone. Your heart dropped. 
“Tanner!” Alex spoke up. “Yeah?” he asked. You could tell he was not excited at all, and you couldn’t help but feel the exact same way. “Since you won the contest today, and you are a superior athlete, and a strong man,” Alex continued. “Yup,” Tanner said as if telling him to continue. “You win the privilege…” Alex paused. “The privilege,” Tanner repeated. “Of going into Ashmore Estates, first,” Alex finished and your jaw dropped. “What?” he asked incredulously. You could hear Dakota snickering beside you and you slapped his arm. “Why?” Tanner questioned again. “You won the contest. You get to go in first,” Alex shrugged his shoulders like it was obvious. “That’s not a prize, that’s losing,” Tanner said. “Alex that’s just mean,” you said and glared at him. “Well first place goes first right?” he shrugged again and you shook your head. 
“It’s so mean, to let him go in first,” Dakota joked. “You wanna take his place?” Alex asked and looked at him, “No,” Dakota admitted and you chuckled. “This is a crappy prize,” Tanner said and you agreed. “Then pride is your prize,” Alex suggested and you once again rolled your eyes. “Pride is my prize?” He asked quizically. “You are a sore winner,” Alex told him. 
“This literally makes no sense. Did you put any thought into this?” Tanner questioned your boyfriend. “You know-you know what?” Alex slightly stammers. “Go for it,” Tanner encouraged him. “How about, oh, I don’t know maybe you’re wearing the enhanced recorder the entire time,” Alex spat out. “Oh no! I’m so scared. Not!” Tanner mockingly said. “Alright, this is good!” Alex said back. “Perfect,” Tanner retorted. “This is good,” Alex reiterated. “Cool,” Tanner said one last time. “Whatever, you know I’ll just go in there first,” Tanner said and you shook your head. “Stir it all up,” He told you and you sighed heavily. “I mean there you go, that’s super positive of you,” Alex said in mock positivity. 
“Alright, let’s get going,” Tanner breathed out heavily. Before he walked away you went over and wrapped him in a hug. “You got this Tanner,” you said and he smiled softly and kissed your head. “Thanks, (n/n),” he said before taking a deep breath and making his way into the building. “Remember, you’re a winner,” Chelsea called after him. “Biggest winner out there,” Alex reiterated. “Doesn’t feel like a winner,” Tanner spoke up. “You’ve got this!” you tried to encourage him. 
As soon as he was in the building you walked over and smacked your boyfriend's arm. “That was no prize Alex,” you said with a slight look of annoyance. “It was for us,” he shrugged and smiled down at you smugly. You rolled your eyes. “You’re gonna be the death of me Alex, I swear it,” you mumbled and he chuckled before tossing an arm around you and pulling you into his chest. “You love me,” he whispered before kissing your head. “You’re lucky I do,” you said and held his arm that was around you. 
“That I am,” he said and leaned forward to kiss your cheek. 
“Hey, what about us?” Dakota asked with his arms out in mock hurt. “Aww, I love you guys too,” you said and walked over to hug Dakota before kissing his cheek and doing the same with Chelsea. 
“They’re such babies,” she said and you laughed. “They really are, honestly. I don’t know how I put up with him sometimes,” you nudged her shoulder and she chuckled. You all sat at the table once again. You set your camera down so you could grab his free hand and hold it in your lap. Just to hold him in some way. It eased your nerves. 
“That was kinda mean, not gonna lie,” Dakota said and you nodded your head. “He’s right Al,” you said and looked at him. “Are you like mad at him?” Chelsea asked softly. “No. He just won. The prize was not a good one at all,” Alex explained it simply. “Obviously Alex,” you said and nudged his shoulder. “What’s the moral of this story? Don’t win? Don’t try?” Dakota asked curiously. “Just be cautious. Watch your back,” Alex told you. “Oh wow, that’s nice,” your sarcasm practically dripping from your words. “A prize can turn into a surprise, real fast,” Chelsea spoke up and you gave her a tight-lipped smile. “True, true,” Dakota agreed with her. 
“Do you think he’s ok up there?” you asked nervously. “He’s Tanner, I’m sure he’s ok why don’t you check on him if you’re worried?” Chelsea asked and smirked playfully as she handed you the walkie. You rolled your eyes and took it, “I’m not trying to scare him I’m just gonna check on him. But if it does scare him then that’s what happens,” you shrugged and softly smiled. They all chuckled. “You’re too good of a person,” Dakota shook his head and you laughed. “Sure, ok,” you said and stuck your tongue out at him playfully. 
You held down the button for a few seconds before speaking, knowing that it might not scare him since he would hear that. “Hey, Tanner,” you said. “Shit,” you heard him curse and you internally cringed. “Yeah, go for Tanner,” you heard him say and you could tell he was already a bit drained from being in there. “I’m sorry to scare you, I just wanted to check in and make sure that you were ok,” you spoke. “It’s ok, I just wasn’t expecting it. It’s freaky up here honestly,” he told you and you nodded despite him not being able to see you. “Are you ok?” you asked sweetly. “Yeah, I’m ok, just a bit freaked out. I’ll see you in a bit ok?” he asked and you just sighed. “Alright, We’re here if you need us at all,” you said genuinely hoping to ease his nerves. “Thanks (n/n),” that was the last you heard. 
“Are you ok?” Alex asked and pulled you closer to his side. You rested your head on his shoulder and nodded. “I’m ok, just uneasy,” you said and sighed. “I know this may sound weird, but why don't you go next?” Chelsea suggested with a small smile. You looked at her with wide eyes. “What? You want me to pee myself?” you asked in disbelief. Everyone chuckled, “No, I just thought it would be a good idea to get it over with and not have to wait and let anxiety build up even more,” She explained and you let your shoulders fall. 
“You’re probably right, it would just be easier for me to go and get it over with. Gosh, this really sucks Alex,” you said and nudged him. He kissed the top of your head and smiled down at you. 
“Can I talk to you before I go in Al?” you asked him and he looked down at you in concern. “Yeah, of course, babe,” he said and you began to get off of your seat. They all looked at you in worry. “Is everything ok,(y/n)?” Dakota asked and you just nodded. “Yeah, I just wanted to talk to him for a second. “We’ll be right back,” you said and grabbed Alex’s hand. You both set your cameras down before walking away a bit.
“Is everything ok?” Alex asked as he placed his arms around you. “I really am scared Al, what if they do recognize us and something bad happens?” you told him. “What if something grabs Chelsea if she’s in the basement or something and she gets hurt? What if one of you gets hurt? There are just so many what-ifs and I’m scared,” you relayed your fears to him. He looked down at you with a soft gaze. “Hey, hey, don’t think like that. I know you’re scared but nothing will happen. And even if something does, we have each other. All of us have each other's backs, that’s the way it’s always been and I’m sure that’s the way it will always be. So if you need to break down or fall apart, we’re right here. I’m right here,” he said and pulled you in close. 
You wrapped your arms around him and held onto him tightly not wanting to let go. “I just want us all to be ok,” you spoke softly and he leaned down to kiss your head. “We will be,” he said and pulled away from you slightly so he could look at you. 
You moved your arms up and around his neck to pull him down and place a kiss on his lips. He reached up to place a hand on your cheek and you leaned into his touch. He couldn’t help but always want you closer, he could never put his finger on it but something about you was just so endearing. Maybe it was everything?
Just like that, he made you forget where you were, and what you were about to do. He made you feel at home, and secure. That was always the case, he took the fear away even if only for a few seconds. It was just gone. 
Before you knew it you had to pull away, and for a few seconds, you felt like you could breathe. He smiled down at you and pushed a strand of hair away from your face. “Promise, you’ll be here when I get back?” you asked looking up at him with a worried gaze. “I promise you,” he reassured and kissed your forehead. “Ok, ok I’m fine,” you said trying to be sure of yourself. “You ready?” he asked and placed his arm around your shoulders. You nodded your head curtly and took a deep breath. “I’m ready,” you said and he guided you back towards your friends. 
“Hey, you ok?” Chelsea asked when you sat back down.” Yeah, I’m ok,” you smiled softly at her. Before Dakota got to speak Tanner came rushing out of the building. “Woah, Tanner are you ok?” You asked as he quickly made his way over to the table. “I just heard whistling,” he told you, you could hear the shock in his voice. “What? A whistle?” Dakota asked incredulously. “Like on the second floor, I started to hear this faint whistling. There’s no way if I didn’t have this device that I’d have heard it,” Tanner explained and your heart rate picked up. “That’s crazy, Tanner,” you expressed. Alex and Dakota let out a simultaneous ‘what?’. 
“Yes, it was the second floor,” he informed you. “That’s freaking terrifying,” Chelsea said. 
“Dude, I heard it multiple times,” He told you. “Whistling, for sure?” Dakota asked. “100%” Tanner assured him. “Like, it, enough to where it, it, froze me,” He described his experience. 
“That’s super weird because there’s supposed to be a woman, Mary, on that floor. She’s a poltergeist on that floor, she’ll move things around, and other claims are that there is raspy, like, whispering and breathing,” Alex explained some claims from that floor. “Did you go like, approach where it came from?” Dakota asked. “Fuck that,” Tanner stated and you chuckled. “I concur,” you agreed. “See, thank you,” Tanner said and gestured to you and you just nodded at him. “You didn’t go towards it?” Dakota asked again. “I am not exploring this place by myself the entire night. Someone else can take that second floor and do the follow-up,” Tanner said. “I’m proud of myself. I’m calling it quits,” he said and you just nodded. “I’m proud of you too Tanner,” you said and got up to give him a high-five. He instead wrapped his arm around your shoulder and brought you into a big side hug. “Alright, (y/n), It’s your turn. You’re next up,” Alex said and you sighed heavily. 
“This is great, I’m so excited,” you said sarcastically and threw your arms up in mock excitement. They all chuckled. “You’ve got this,” Tanner said and squeezed your shoulder. “Alright, alright fine. I’m going,” you sighed and you got handed the Ovilus. “Bye guys,” you waved and as you walked away you felt someone come up behind you. You turned around to see Alex and smiled. “What? Did I forget something?” you asked. He just leaned down and pressed his lips to yours for a few seconds before pulling away. “Just that,” he said and smiled back at you. You shook your head, “You’re too much sometimes Al, now go on, I have to get this over with,” you said and shooed him away. “If I die, I love you guys!” you called over your shoulder. “We love you too!” you heard them call back. 
“Alright guys, let’s do this,” you spoke and opened the door. 
Taglist:
@jaziona92
@beautybyfire
@thefandomthings
@kippykasey
@kristin813
@katelynanna
@nyx2021
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multifandomrandomgirl · 1 year ago
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The Ropes that Bind Us -Peter Tork x female!reader PART EIGHT
Masterlist:
Taglist: @strawberry-sunset-skies
After a short car journey and an explanation from Davy as to why it took so long for him and Michael to rescue Y/N, they pulled up at the pad.
Peter hopped out of the vehicle in order to help Y/N out, she gratefully accepted his help, giving him a big smile as she got out. Y/N took in her surroundings, questions flooding her brain, however, the biggest question was:
“Wait, why is there a beach there? Where are we?” The four boys looked at her in confusion before Michael’s expression turned to one of sympathy and sadness for the girl who was most probably thousands of miles away from her home.
“Oh Y/N, we’re in Los Angeles.” Michael said sadly, Y/N’s face fell, and she glanced around again, staring at the sea, not knowing what emotions to feel.
“L.A? What the fuck? How’d he get me so far away? I’ve been in L.A for three fucking years? It’s not a wonder no one found me.” Y/N said, trying hard to mask the upset in her voice.
“Y/N, sweetie, where are you from?” Micky asked her gently before turning to Mike and giving him a ‘what the fuck do we do?’ look. 
“Illinois. Fucking Chicago.” Y/N ran her hand through her hair, a tear slipped out of her eye and Peter pulled her into a tight hug, finally being able to comfort the girl. Micky shot Mike another look, none of The Monkees knew what to do. Y/N was 2000 miles from home. They didn’t know if she wanted to return to Chicago and try to locate any friends or family she may have left in the area. 
“Y/N? I’m so sorry that you were forced this far from home. I don’t know what you want to do, but until you know, please stay with us. We’ll help you through anything and everything.” Michael took a step forward, placing a hand on her arm.
“Thank you Michael.” She whispered, Peter held onto her tighter, he wanted things to be right for her but he had no idea to make her feel better, he wasn’t expecting her to be from a whole different state. Peter wanted her to be safe and comfortable, and that’s what he planned on doing whilst she stayed with them, as well as making her feel like she was loved. He had no idea what her relatives were like back in Chicago but he wanted her to know that no matter what, people did care about her.
“Let’s get you inside, we really should clean your injuries, I don’t want them getting infected.” Peter guided her inside the house careful not to further hurt her. Mike smiled to himself, he knew that Peter really truly cared for the girl and he thought it was sweet how gentle he was being with her. The three remaining Monkees knew that no matter what, they’d help Peter protect Y/N no matter what.
Peter had drawn a bath for her a got her settled in there, giving her the things she needed to clean out her cuts and refresh herself, he then took it upon himself to find her some clothes, he found some clean underwear and a large t-shirt and made his way back to the bathroom.
“Y/N, is it okay if I come in? I have some clothes for you.” Peter asked, Y/N told him he could enter and so he did. He placed the clothes down on the lid of the toilet seat before crouching down next to the bath. He picked up a sponge, he looked for permission in her eyes, and it was granted. Peter began to gently wash Y/N, ensuring that all the dirt and fluff that was in her wounds were gone.
“Thank you, Peter. I really appreciate it.” Y/N smiled up at him, taking the towel that he held out to her.
“It’s no problem! I’ll wait in the hallway for you! The shirt is mine, and the underwear is Davy’s as he has the smallest waist and so I figured that’d be best for you, they’re clean!” Peter hurried out of the bathroom, Y/N giggled, dried herself off and picked up what appeared to be teenager-sized underwear. Y/N slid the top over her head and hung the towel up on a rail attached to the wall. The top smelt like Peter which instantly made her feel safe. 
Y/N left the bathroom, and just as promised, Peter stood waiting for her, he looked up and grinned at the sight of her. “Feel better?” He asked, she nodded in response. “So, you’re going to sleep in my bed, I’ll be on the sofa if you need anything, but Davy’s bed is in the same room as mine, so he’ll also be there.” Peter began to explain.
“Peter, don’t be ridiculous, you’re not sleeping on that sofa.” Y/N started.
“But-” Peter tried to interrupt but she wouldn’t let him speak.
“Peter, I was going to ask if maybe you’d sleep in the bed with me, please? I’m scared that Lord Reynolds is going to get me again, I know it’s ridiculous but-” Peter interrupted her this time.
“Of course Y/N, I want to keep you safe, I’ll protect you from him.” He took her hand and showed her to the bedroom, pulling back the duvet and letting her lay down before he clambered in behind her, pulling the duvet over the pair of them and wrapping his arms around her. The girl was out within seconds. “I’ll protect you from everything Y/N.” Peter murmured before falling asleep.
Davy entered the room an hour or so later to go to bed, he flipped the light on so he could find his pyjamas but caught sight of his bandmate and his new friend cuddled up, even in sleep, Peter’s face expressed the care he had for Y/N. Davy grinned stupidly before fetching Micky and Michael to look at them.
“Pete’s adorable, look at him. He’s so determined to protect her.” Micky smiled, tilting his head affectionately at the pair who looked more vulnerable than ever.
“And this, Lord Reynolds, is why we need Peter. He’s the most caring and sweet human ever.” Michael mumbled as he exited the room to go to his own bedroom, Micky in tow.
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zomb-writes · 2 years ago
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Welcome to my lil writing blog.
I'm a teenage writer who's a lil bit of a nerd. Call me zombz or bud. I use he/him it/its pronouns.
Rules
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Please do not request anything with pregnancy, parent/family fics are ok tho.
No nsfw.
I won't do serious subjects like s/h or anything like that.
I will not do oc x character, this for readers x character.
Please do not rush me.
I will do headcanons, imagines, fics.
╚════════════════════╝
Fandoms
Owl house. (lillith(Platonic only) eda, raine, luz, king(platonic only) hunter, amity(female reader or non binary reader only if you want it romantic.) Willow.
Egos. wilford, darkiplier, Illinois, damien, engineer, (other characters from marks stuff? Celci and that stuff) anti, chase.(and more just ask)
Overwatch. dva, tracer(only romantic if female or non binary writer) mercy, sonbra, genji, Cassidy, ashe.
Monster high(new and old just tell me which.)
And alot more just ask.
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