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aetheternity · 4 years ago

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I'll admit it's exciting. (Armin x reader)

Synopsis: Being your professor's dirty little secret. His pet.. Sounded too good to refuse.

Warning: Smut in the later chapters! 18+ only

"Good girl.." Your lip tucked itself beneath your tooth. Spine tingling at the intoxicating scent surrounding you.

You coaxed a breath off your lips as the almost inaudible creak of the desk under your professors weight made you sit up straight. His arms locking you in place.

You looked into his soft blue eyes feeling a tinge of entrapment at the way he had you locked in.

"Do you understand now?" His surprisingly large hands caressed your shoulder.

"Y-yeah." If you could see your own face you'd probably be embarrassed but you were currently helpless to the tiny bits of touch he allowed you.

Your elbows pushed you up just a little bit closer to his chest. His touch disappearing too soon.

"I think you'll be ready for the test in a couple days." And suddenly every bit of him was walking away and back to sit at his desk. "You should still study though. This stuff has been difficult for you."

~~~~

"Y/N."

The tip of your nail stayed fidgeting between your lips.

"Y/N."

Words flew through your brain but it all continued to just be flushed straight out again.

"Y/N!" The book flew from your grasp landing with a clatter that attracted glances from all angles.

"Are you alright Y/N?" Eren asked, concern etched into his deep sapphire eyes.

You let out a harsh exhale. "I was, until Sasha stopped my heart." You held a palm up to your chest, glaring over at Sasha.

Mikasa blinked boredom sunk into her features. Her cheeks forced into the palms of her hands as her elbows stayed firmly planted into the table. "New class?"

You nodded, shutting your binder before promptly flipping it open again.

"You'll be fine." She muttered, staring at you with her own version of concern.

"How can you say that? I had to transfer from a different class a month after the semester already started. You know how much stuff I've already missed! Not to mention I had originally thought this class was gonna be next semester me's problem." With a groan you let your head flop harshly onto the mildly sticky table in front of you.

"I think what Mikasa was trying to suggest was that Mr. Arlert has always been said to be a very gentle and caring professor." Sasha said

"You can always take office hours if you really have a hard time." Eren suggested

"Thanks Eren, but I think you're forgetting that I hate doing anything outside of class that won't immediately get me a passing grade."

Eren just shrugged, moving to stuff his notebooks into his own bag. All of them genuinely looking as though he'd just reused them from high school. Each one with a rip in the first page or the spiral unraveling.

"Welp it's 2:00." Sasha reminded you. And you groaned so loud you could practically feel the stares from other tables touching your soul.

"Maybe I'll fall down the stairs and break my ankle before I get up there." You slung your bag onto your shoulder hanging your head as you walked off.

"I'll have your favorite donuts in my room after you get out!" Sasha called

"You should've started with that!"

You made the walk so much longer by dragging your feet up every stair individually and rubbing a finger to your temple. So much so that it surprised you when you walked into the classroom and no one was in there except..

"Oh hello."

Hot..

So so very hot..

His smile sparkled only futher brightened by his deep blue eyes. His short blond hair parted slightly over his forehead. His blue button up was cuffed up against his forearms revealing a very slender but still fairly muscular set of hands. He probably had a nice chest too.

"You must be Y/N." He chuckled and before you could reassociate he was giving you a whole new list of things to think about as he bent over his desk to retrieve a piece of paper.

"Here's the syllabus. You're starting kinda late so it will be helpful to you to come to office hours. My office hours are at the bottom here." When he reached forward to point his scent caught you by surprise. A sweet almost fruit like smell wafted up your nose. "I hope you'll catch on quickly. Sit wherever you'd like."

His remark barely registered in your mind, your mouth hung open immediately slamming shut as the class quickly began to fill.

Before you could get swept up by the people flooding into the room you made your way to the front plopping down into the seat closest to the window. When you looked up again from where you'd yanked your binder almost haphazardly out of your bag, you caught the quickest wink you'd ever seen in your entire life.

Or maybe it was your imagination.

But the way he leaned a little closer when he approached you wasn't.

"Front row? Good choice."

Regardless of the heart problems he'd recently caused you he was moving on. Quickly silencing the class and starting the lesson.

Hot.

The only thought racing through your head.

Hot. Hot. Hot..

He was pretty! When he turned off the light his eyes didn't dull in the almost blinding way in which they shone. His hair fluttered over his forehead and ears and his shirt seemed to hug his chest tighter every time he reached up to turn off the projector or even just to reach a high spot on the board.

You already knew everything from today was going in one ear and out the other but it was really hard to give a damn when your professor's pants cupped his ass they way they did. His dark shoes clicked across the floor and-

"Do you understand any of it? I know it's your first day."

You blinked up at him hoping your eyes weren't as wide as they felt or that you weren't popping your mouth open and close like a suffocating fish.

He smiled, flipping the paper on the desk around till it faced him. "Can I?" He reached for the tip of your pen and as you let it go your fingers brushed in probably the strongest current of static that had ever touched your body.

"Don't worry ok this is just a practice test I wanna see what you know." He said, leaving a couple marks on the paper. He then pointed to the two empty test questions. "Don't leave anything blank ok."

This time when he walked away you were without a doubt certain he'd winked. When you looked down at your paper again you could see 3 checks on the paper in the light blue ink you were using and a little smiley face in the corner.

Your chest honestly had no right fluttering the way it did over something so trivial.

The class was only an hour and forty minutes but when it was over you felt like you'd only been seated there for ten minutes. When you handed the test paper back he sent you one final wink that made your knees buckle.

"See you next time." He said and you had to forcibly stop yourself from shuttering.

You half speed walked half ran out of there as soon as his classroom door had shut behind you. All the way to Sasha's dorm room.

You slammed it open already knowing Sasha only kept it locked when she wasn't in there. Your chest was heaving and you held onto the door frame for support. Noticing the immediate and visible flinch from Eren and Sasha.

"He's. Hot!!" You gasped for air before walking in and sinking to the floor in front of Sasha. She didn't budge as you fell against her shoulder just wrapped an arm around your shoulders hugging your back. "Oh god he's so hot.." You breathed into Sasha's collarbone.

"Looks like she did learn something." Eren muttered

"No! You don't understand he's like so pretty!"

Mikasa didn't even try to hide the way she rolled her eyes and Eren just sighed.

"Aww you've got a crush on your professor that's adorable." Sasha said, reaching into the box next to her, grabbing your favorite donut she pushed it into your open mouth pulling it back slightly to allow you to chew.

You sobbed a little before sighing and falling back into Sasha's neck. "What the hell am I gonna do?" You sighed

"Focus on passing the class is probably the first step." Eren replied

"Now you're just being silly." You replied, rubbing your fingers into the floor.

Sasha brought the donut back up to your lips smiling as you took another bite. "I wanna see him now! Isn't he the really young professor? Like he's supposedly only twenty five as of recently and got hired less than a year ago."

"Yeah.." You quickly put your password into your phone, turning the screen so Sasha could see.

Mikasa and Eren scooted closer as Sasha took a closer look. "He is pretty." Mikasa was the first to speak.

"Why do you just have his picture pulled up? How're you already being creepy?" Eren questioned

You scoffed, "I just happened to be looking on Instagram during a quick bathroom trip.. and I just so happened to look for him.. it's his fault for making it easy." You snatched the donut from Sasha taking a bigger bite.

"Yeah no I agree with Eren this is cree- AW HE HAS A DOG!" Sasha snatched the phone zooming in on the puppy in his lap.

"Actually it's his family's dog. Her name's Pumpkin and he goes home as often as possible to see her. A small two hour train ride to be exact." You sigh briefly "I've never really liked Terriers as a dog breed but that one's so cute.."

"Is the dog cute or is it the guy holding her?" Mikasa questioned with a little smirk.

"Not helping Mikasa.." Eren interjected "What are you even thinking? No matter if you like professor Arlert or not he has to keep it professional and so do you."

"Eren, look at the puppy." You took your phone from Sasha turning the screen back to face him.

He glanced down at the image then back into your eyes with a raised eyebrow.

"Puppy!"

"Creepy!" He pressed the power button on your phone and you deflated against Sasha's legs letting your phone turn over onto its face.

"I'll never understand why you don't go for a degree in hacking or something the way you always manage to pull up information on people." Mikasa shook her head.

"Probably going to be stuck with more math classes for one and secondly when I become a supervillain I don't need everyone knowing it was apart of my major." You replied, with an exaggerated eye roll.

Sasha shrugged, "If it was your major I'm pretty sure everyone would understand your descent into madness."

"I can't believe you just said that.." Eren groaned, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"Me or her?" You asked

"Yes!"

~~~~

Thursday came too soon. Or maybe you should say, finally Thursday is here! You jumped back and forth between the two but by the time you slid into the honestly uncomfortable classroom seat and placed your bag between your legs you knew exactly what you felt.

"Professor!" A female's voice caught your attention and you turned slightly to see a short brown haired girl running into the classroom.

"You were right about what I was missing! Once I applied what we talked about in office hours it became so simple."

"That's what I like to hear Petra." He winked as he flipped through a stack of papers on his desk.

Wait, had he always done that to all the students or had you just not noticed last time? You felt your shoulders hunch but they were instantly picking back up again as he slid a piece of paper onto your desk.

"You did pretty well on that practice test. Seems like you'll be up to speed in no time." He smiled, a deep warm smile that made your stomach squeeze.

Your lips curled upwards and you quickly moved to hide it behind your paper as he walked away.

"You too huh?"

You felt your skin practically vibrate but you hoped and prayed it wasn't too noticeable.

"Wh-what?" You glanced over at the girl Petra who sat only one desk away from you. Her features flat and her eyes dark in the middle an almost scary contrast from earlier.

"You're into him too?" She muttered

Was it that obvious? Stupid question. How could you be so obvious?

"I don't think you'll win out." She continued and before you could question it, she pointed to the back row.

It seemed almost like a tussle as Mr. Arlert was being held hostage by another young female holding his hand. He smiled mildly awkwardly as he spoke with her, nodding his head to everything her and the other girls surrounding her said. The first girl running a thumb over the back of his hand.

You felt your skin prickle and you exhaled loudly. "So.. I'm guessing you too.."

Petra blinked at you then quickly shifted around in her seat. Mr. Arlert quickly approached the front of the room clapping to get the classes attention. And with that the lesson was beginning.

You noticed from the clap at the beginning of class to the last word uttered that not one word in Mr. Arlert's lesson had actually registered in your mind. Your thoughts too full of Petra's words, her blank almost villainous expression as she'd talked.

And that girl's hand. That annoying girl in the back row. You peeked your head back there looking at the now empty chair. In fact the entire classroom was empty and had been for at least 15 minutes since you continued to struggle with stuffing your binder back into your apparently shrunken bag.

"Need help?"

You bit your lip and looked away as he came closer. You weren't really standing up straight but you immediately noticed the way he towered over you. His fingers so delicate in the way they brushed over yours sliding the irritating object into the confines of your bag.

"Thank you.." You whispered

He chuckled, "No problem, happy to help."

His eyes didn't leave yours for an almost uncomfortable amount of time so you shifted your feet backing away a little. He seemed to notice and placed a hand on the back of his neck, backing up himself.

Oh no. Now he was getting uncomfortable.

He made his way back over to his desk but not before you'd slipped in something to ease the tension. "Sorry for over staying my welcome.."

He let out a soft chuckle. "You're not bothering me plus there are no classes in here for two hours after mine on Thursday. You can stay as long as you'd like."

"O-oh." You face palmed internally at your stupid reply. "So.." You began again. "Do you mind if I asked you how you're such a young professor.."

His eyes flickered up from the work he'd been filling out. "Well, I skipped a couple grades and I was in college by 15. I'm actually still in college now but I was an assistant teacher at 18 for about three years for a high school a couple blocks from here before I became a full fledged teacher and then I worked at the same school as a teacher for three more years before I finally left and started teaching here."

It should've been obvious from the start that he'd worked tireless hours of school to get here at such a young age. Not to mention probably having worked just as hard in the gym. He'd only leaned back a little bit in his chair but it was enough for you to have a perfect mental image.

Your eyes flicked up to his much softer more.. Arlert like smile? Maybe? It just felt like the kind of smile he'd give a friend and less like the smile he used in the classroom. Not that that one felt fake, just.. different.

"Do you.. I mean.. have you always had girls?.." His eyebrows scrunched as you spoke. You pointed to the back of the classroom. "You're young I mean, do girls always touch you like that?"

He blinked up at the ceiling then back down to you. Your breath hitched as he pulled himself up from the desk walking closer to you.

"As soon as they find out I'm not that much older than them? Yeah."

You probably should've stopped but your brain was suddenly working independently. "Does it?.. Do you like that kind of attention?"

He sat down on the desk crossing his arms over his chest and his leg over his knee. He spoke his head. "Not normally no."

"Normally?"

He stood again but this time he stopped directly in front of you. Sharp blue eyes cold and yet warm and vibrant. The desk creaked under your weight as you leaned back into it. His hands at your sides, his breath tickling your upper lip.

His thumb came up to graze your cheek but was quickly removed and planted back on the desk. "Can I kiss you?"

You nodded way too eagerly and-

So so so much softer than you'd even thought imaginable. His nose rubbed against yours and he was pulling away. Too soon.

You grabbed the back of his neck, yanking him back to you. Immediately delighted by the warm touch of his pretty pink lips.

He pulled back and you yanked him forward. Over and over again with soft peppered kisses. And then one slightly longer one where he was comfortably mushing his lips against yours.

#armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #armin smut #armin arlert x reader smut #armin arlert #armin x y/n #armin aot #aot x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #aot smut #snk smut #aot imagines #attack on titan smut #shingeki no kyoujin #cal writes

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hotchseyebrows · 3 years ago

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that's my heart right there

a derek morgan x penelope garcia fic

a/n: hi beloveds :) today i present this happy and soft morcia fic that i wrote in practically one go last night. who needs wips when you can just ignore them all blatantly for new works? thank you as always to @blkantigone for providing another set of eyes, love you lots! love you all too, thank you for reading!

rating/warnings: teens and up, allusions to sex but none on screen, mostly just gooey marshmallowly fluff!

read it on ao3 here!

The sunlight surrounds her in a soft glow. She smiles at him and something inside of him breaks open.

“Let’s get a drink.” It’s not an unusual request for them, but it feels bigger this time. “If you want to.”

Her smile grows. “Yes please.”

A post Exit Wounds fic where Kevin doesn't exist and Clooney the dog is much more important to the narrative. They're in love and finally doing something about it.

word count: 2311

“I kinda love you, Derek Morgan.”

“I kinda love you, Penelope Garcia.”

He thinks about it the whole plane ride back from Alaska. When they board, she gently tugs him to the big couch before sitting directly next to him. He drops his arm around her shoulders instinctually, smiling as she hums and pulls out her knitting. She smells like honey and rain (the respective scents of her shampoo and conditioner and her body wash) and has picked a warm color gradient for her outfit and makeup today. She babbles about her knitting group’s latest gossip for a while as he relaxes into her side.

She seems like her normal relaxed and bubbly self, but he can feel the tension in her shoulders. Their early conversation was comforting, but her worries are still weighing on her. But he doesn’t want to bring it up in front of everyone, so he just kisses her temple and tugs her closer. “So wait baby girl, is Jared going to ask out Francisco or not?”

“I don’t know! I asked him about it before we left and he dodged giving me a straight answer. I think he’s worried about their friendship, but it’s SO obvious that Francisco is wild about him. They’re already best friends, so- he’s just being silly. I told him that.”

The conversation moves on, but Penelope’s friends join the merry-go-round of thoughts in his head for the rest of the flight. They stay close for the remaining 8 hours, usually with some form of physical contact even as they adjust positions over the long trip home. Derek focuses on making her laugh as much as possible and trying to make her blush all at once.

When they land at home after almost 9 hours on the jet, the sun is setting. The team is obviously tired, but in relatively good spirits as they exit the plane. Derek is last, just behind Penelope. The sky is full of the same colors on Penelope’s clothes today, he realizes as they walk across the airfield. “It’s good to be back,” she says, pulling her shawl tight. “I miss you when you go but it’s… easier on me in some ways not to be there.”

It makes him pause, slowing to a stop. Penelope walks further ahead but notices he’s not there and stops herself. She looks over her shoulder at him, waiting. The sunlight surrounds her in a soft glow. She smiles at him and something inside of him breaks open.

“Let’s get a drink.” It’s not an unusual request for them, but it feels bigger this time. “If you want to.”

Her smile grows. “Yes please.”

They don’t dance. This part is unusual. Instead it’s 4 drinks in each at a quiet bar close to Derek’s apartment, and they are glued to each other’s side on the same side of a table in a corner booth. This place doesn’t even have a dance floor.

She leans against his side, nosing at his neck. “You smell good,” she mumbles. He wraps an arm around her, feeling shaky like a ship in a storm.

“Baby girl, is this-” He pauses, not sure what the question should be. Not sure of the answer she’ll give. Penelope picks her head up to look at him, cheeks flushed. Derek swallows. “Am I imagining things, or…”

“You’re not imagining things.” She leans up and kisses the corner of his mouth. “I feel it too.” He grins and pulls her in for a proper kiss. They fall into it easily, as if it isn’t the first time. The first time it really means what it’s meant to. It feels like they’ve been together for years- and in some ways, that’s not untrue.

He brings her home. It’s late, and they’ve had a long case and now a long night, so he knows she’s tired. Still, she stops to drop to her knees to hug Clooney when he comes barreling out of Derek’s bedroom at the sound of them entering the apartment.

“Oh, hello sweetie, hi there, yes, I know, it’s so exciting when Daddy comes home, but it’s even more exciting when he brings me to visit, I know-” Clooney agrees with a quiet woof- “see, Derek, Clooney said I’m his favorite.”

Derek smiles at the way his best girl gets along with his big goof of a dog. “He’s got good taste.” He doesn’t mean the words to come out so weighted, but she looks up at him with such a reverent look on her face that he doesn’t care.

She stands up and drags him through his apartment, Clooney hot on their heels. They get ready for bed at the same time as if they’ve done this domestic routine every night for ages. She won’t stop looking at him like she loves him. Like she cherishes him. He believes her.

She pulls him into his bed, arranging their bodies close together. They don’t do anything more than kiss with their arms wrapped around each other. She falls asleep first with her head on his chest. It makes him feel warm. They shared a bed in Alaska too, and now he’s thinking about not wanting the streak to end. He pulls her closer for the moment, the places where her soft skin is touching his own shooting little bolts of lightning through him as he falls asleep too.

Penelope makes breakfast. He takes Clooney on a run, slipping out of bed when she’s still asleep and kissing her forehead before he goes. When he comes back, she’s in his robe, standing over the stove. He’s sweaty and hot, but she yanks him into a kiss anyway. After the eggs burn a little, he pulls away and takes a quick shower. She’s waiting at the table, coffee made and Clooney napping at her feet. The food is delicious, but sitting here with her like this is better. She tastes like coffee when he kisses her over the table.

Someone surely would have noticed Penelope in the same outfit again today, but over the years so much of her clothing has ended up hanging in Derek’s closet next to his own that she’s able to pick out a full outfit for the day. Today her dress is frilly and bright green. He picks out a darker green shirt to match- just because he can.

They drop into this new routine easily. Their flirtatious phone calls now have this added layer of promise and intent, even if they haven’t made good on it yet. She’s always been the primary person to stop in and take care of Clooney while Derek’s on cases, but now he comes home and she’s still there. His two best loves, sitting on his couch. He gets home after a case with hidden cameras and is feeling particularly exposed over it all. But there she is, smiling up at him, because she missed him. Because she wanted to see him.

“Hi there,” she says. He crosses the room and lifts her off the couch, holding her against him. She follows his lead with ease, trusting him implicitly. His arms wrap around her waist. He can literally feel her breathing like this, and he’s never been so grateful that she’s alive. “Hi,” she whispers again.

“Hi baby.” He nuzzles the side of her head, breathing in the soft honey scent of her hair.

She doesn’t ask what’s got him all worked up. She just wraps her arms around his neck and lets him hold her. After a minute or two of just swaying in place, he leans in and presses their lips together. A gentle kiss at first, but quickly his desire for closeness, to feel her, bleeds into that too. He lifts her legs off the ground and puts them around his waist. Penelope makes a noise close to a whine in the back of her throat, pushing closer. He carries her to his room, kissing her fiercely all the while.

Afterwards, she’s lying on top of him with her head on his chest. Derek runs his fingers through her hair, gently untangling anything he comes across. “I’m glad you’re home,” she says, slightly muffled by her mouth’s position against his skin.

It sounds like she means that this is their home. Or that she is his home.

“Me too.” He pulls her up for another slow kiss. She climbs up on top of him, straddling his hips. Her hands cup his cheeks before running down his chest. He keeps the kiss slow, and she kisses back with ease. Like they’re in love.

Derek is in the break room, making another cup of coffee. Emily slides next to him, a coffee stirrer in her teeth. “You seem happy.”

Derek looks at her out of the corner of his eye. “It’s a nice day, Prentiss.” Emily deliberately looks at where the rain outside is hitting the window. Derek doesn’t back down.

“Whoever you’ve been dating must be a hell of someone. That’s good.”

Derek can’t help but smile. She really is.

“But I want more information sooner than later, Morgan.”

He hums, and picks up Penelope’s coffee cup from the rack. He takes his time filling it before looking at Emily pointedly.

She pauses and then grins. “I fucking knew it. I knew it!” Derek smiles back. “You better take care of her, I swear to God-”

“I will. I am.”

She softens. “She better take care of you too.”

He picks up both mugs. “She does.”

He’s never felt like this in a relationship before. Being with Penelope is easy. It’s just the same as it was, but better and more. She stops by his office a little more, and he swings by the batcave more often than he needs to, but no one notices. It’s just part of the normal Morgan-Garcia antics everyone expects.

She does take full advantage of this and is definitely getting kissed more often than anyone else at Quantico during the day, but Derek doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind at all.

They’re sitting on a park bench at the edge of the dog park and watching Clooney run himself ragged through the grass. She puts her head on his shoulder. “Francisco asked Jared out a few days ago.”

“I thought you said Jared was the one who was thinking about asking out Francisco.”

“Francisco got tired of waiting.”

He nods. “I know the feeling,” he says before kissing the top of her head.

After they find Ellie’s mom, Derek can’t shake this weird mixture of happy and sad in the middle of his chest. Penelope comes over unprompted with a plate of cookies and a stack of dvds. They lay on the couch, her holding him and Clooney with his head on Derek’s thigh. They don’t talk about it then, but they will later. For now she traces a pattern on his side as Nicolas Cage and Holly Hunter kidnap a baby. Clooney starts snoring. Penelope kisses Derek’s shoulder, arms holding him tight.

They show up together to a little party at Rossi’s. Emily sees them holding hands and grins. No one else notices that, but they do notice when Penelope pulls Derek down into a kiss after he gets her another drink.

“Thank you, mon amour. You’re my hero.”

He laughs. “Anything for you baby girl.” He taps the tip of her nose in punctuation. She pulls him in for another short kiss in response.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” says Rossi.

Emily is grinning widely. Spencer and JJ have matching excited and pleased looks. Hotch has this knowing look on his face. Derek raises an eyebrow at him specifically. Hotch just looks back with the softest smile on his face. He should have known Hotch would have noticed.

“Hold on, does that mean what I think it does or is this something you two are just doing now?” Spencer asks.

Derek looks down at Penelope. “Yes.”

The team laughs. “Yes to which part?”

“Yes,” Penelope says.

Spencer scrunches his nose at her. She giggles. “Yes, as in, it means what you think it does, pretty boy.”

Spencer claps his hands together, swinging them back and forth a little. “Good! Finally. I’m glad we don’t have to wait anymore.”

“Me too,” Penelope says to the group, but she’s only looking at Derek. He leans in and kisses her again in agreement.

Derek takes Clooney out when they get home to let him do his business before bed. When he comes back inside, Penelope is already in bed wearing one of his shirts and flipping through a knitting magazine. He strips down to his boxers and climbs into bed next to her, laying on his back and putting his face on her thigh.

“I think they took that well,” she says.

Derek rubs his face into her skin. He hums, nodding a little.

“When did Emily find out?”

“Find out that it’s you I’m seeing? Or that it was you I was too afraid to do anything about?”

She chuckles. “How about both, then.”

“She cornered me in the break room a few weeks after Alaska. And I never officially told her that I was nuts about you, so I think a safe bet would be her first day on the team.” Penelope drops the magazine and climbs into his lap.

“That long?” He knows what she means specifically.

“Even longer.” She runs a thumb along his jawline and looks down at him with such adoration in her eyes he thinks he might burst.

“Me too,” she whispers, like it’s a secret. He pulls her down into a kiss.

“I kinda love you, Penelope Garcia,” he mumbles against her lips.

“I kinda love you, Derek Morgan,” she says back without hesitation. He kisses her again, 'cause that’s the best thing he’s heard all day.

#morcia #derek morgan #penelope garcia #cm #cj.txt #denelope #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #cjs fic

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years ago

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Breakfast in the Bed || Mike Wheeler x Reader

Day 3 of Fictober

Pairings: Mike Wheeler x [gn]Reader, Elmax

Fandom: Stranger Things (2016-)

Requested: Could you write a Mike x Reader fic where Mike and the rest of the party surprise the reader with breakfast in bed on their birthday and the reader accidentally confesses that she likes Mike? Or something like that, idk. Thanks!

A//n: Holy fuck, im so sorry this took a million years, but thank you loads for being so incredibly patient. It gets so hard sometimes, but know that I appreciate your guys' understanding and patience with me and I've always had every intention of getting it done cause I want to keep my promise to you guys 💞 i thought this was a cute request, and for a while I had this idea stuck in my head that made it kinda hard to write but then when I started writing, it took a different direction in a different tone but i think it helped. Its more of a funny chaotic kind of fluff rather than an typical "you like me?" cliche fluff. Either way I hope you like it and thanks again for being so patient and requesting!

Fictober Day 1: "you did this?"

[Not Really] Warnings: fluff, a Zathura reference. Elmax being adorable girlfriends

Key: f/b = favorite breakfast/fav.food

"Are you sure about this, man?"

"Shh!" Mike hisses, trying desperately to keep the tray in his hands balanced. "You'll wake Y/n!"

Lucas looks at his friend completely dumbfounded like the rest of the group, aside from El who clung to Max's arm with a perplexed expression and a party hat on her head.

"Dude," Lucas deadpans. "That's the whole point."

"You know what I mean," Mike huffs.

With some convincing from your head of house and some careful planning the night before, the party now found themselves in your doorway with your favorite breakfast. You were still out cold, head buried in your pillow and your limbs tangled messily in your sheets.

"Are you sure we even should be doing this?" Max asks in a whisper. "You know how Y/n feels about sleeping. And, ya know, I'd want to sleep in on my birthday."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Dustin eases with a smile, and a cheery tune. "It's us! And food. In bed!"

He steps out from behind Mike and enters your bedroom, and everyone watches wearily as he tiptoes to your bedside. You still hadn't moved, aside from the steady rise and fall of your body. Max's words played over in Mike's head and the more it did he couldn't help but realize she was probably right. He tried calling out to Dustin but it was too late. By the time the grinning boy had reached out to touch your shoulder it looked more as if he were poking a sleeping bear.

You groaned but never moved, and Dustin tried again.

"Dustin?" Will whispers uneasily. "Maybe, Max is right. Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"Y/n~" Dustin sings in a low volume, and he begins shaking you more. "Y/n, wake up~! We've got a surprise for you~!"

You shift in your bed but again, show no signs of consciousness. Dustin looks over his shoulder at his friends, a bright smile overtaking his face.

"Guys, it's fine! Look," He turns back to you, shaking your shoulder again and missing the winces from your friends. "Y/n-"

Dustin stumbles back when your palm meets his face with a rough smack.

"Go away!" You exclaim, eyes screwed shut to block out all the invasive light that stung your vision.

You didn't quite know who all was there, all you did know was that people were in your bedroom and trying to wake you up.

"Why," you seethed, your voice low and gravelly from lack of use. "am I awake at,"

You roll over to look at the flickering red lights of your alarm clock, your eyelids fighting hard to stay open.

"six-thirty in the morning?"

Through your blurry vision you can make out all of the party standing in your room, looks of displacement written all over their faces. It's quiet for a moment as they struggle for words, until El breaks the silence with a party blower.

Max winces from her side, and sends a small smile to the brunette and in a small voice says to her. "Yeah, maybe not now, okay El?"

El winces, taking the party blower out of her hand and gives you a wide toothy smile. You didn't mind so much as you just wanted to give into what your body was telling you do; bury yourself under the covers and slip back into sleep.

You groan again, doing just that. You let your body fall back into the small nest you had unintentionally made for yourself but you knew the comfort was going to be short lived. And it was.

"Come on, Y/n," Lucas said, stepping into your bedroom, gesturing past Dustin who was still rubbing his nose, and over to Mike who timidly held the tray of f/b. "We made you breakfast."

They were met with silence. And no, they were not being ignored but you in fact were drifting back off.

"You can eat it in bed," Lucas added with a hopeful grin.

Your head picked up when you registered what your friend said. Your eyelids still felt they were made of magnets wanting to snap together but it was a little easier to fight it.

You were kinda hungry... And you wanted to spend today with your friends anyway.

You plastered on a sleepy smile, and turned to look at your friends through your half-lidded eyes as if you hadn't just scolded them.

"For me?" You asked in an exaggerated, sickly sweet voice that asked them to move on from it.

They all laughed nervously - again, apart from El who just seemed happy you were happy now.

"Yup," Lucas said. "We thought you deserved something special for your birthday, so we all decided to surprise you."

His voice was a bit uneasy, but your brain was still too foggy to comprehend it. So you just pulled yourself up into a sitting position against your pillows, readjusting your sleepshirt and pajama bottoms since they had shifted an uncomfortable amount throughout the night.

You smiled up at them all, feeling kinda guilty.

"Thank you guys," you said, with a genuine smile. "This is actually really nice. Here, you can come in,"

Mike seemed the most relieved out of all of them, and anxiously he stepped forward and headed for your bedside with the tray table full of food and drink. Max and El walked hand in hand to stand at the end of you bed, Max taking a seat on the end of the mattress to face you while El began playing with ends of her hair. Lucas and Dustin were further along the side of the bed to make room for Mike who carried the tray.

You bit the inside of you cheek a little, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes as you yawned.

"Sorry I hit you, Dustin," you say meekly, beginning to feel a bit silly about the whole thing.

He shrugs it off with a smile. "Eh, no worries. We'll be laughing about it later. Right, guys?"

He pat Mike's back in a playful - and forceful - manner, unintentionally throwing the balance off the tray. Not a single item stayed on the wooden tray, but was now splayed out all over your sheets and soaking through your shirt and pajama bottoms. You jumped back at the unwelcomed and highly uncomfortable sensation, gaping down at the mess you were now buried in. Slowly you look up to meet eyes with the party, particularly Dustin and Mike.

They looked as if they had crapped their pants.

Dustin's jaw hangs open for a moment, his entire body completely frozen. His right hand is wrenched up to point at Mike, who stares at the tray with glazed eyes, and his face completely crimson.

"It was all his idea!" Dustin squeaks.

Your fiery gaze meets Mike's terrified one, and his mouth parts as he begins sputtering. He was trying to summon an apology, or even an "it was an accident" but all he managed was a nervous, uncomfortable smile.

Your heart would have fluttered at his state had it not been for the meal that had just been dumped on you. You yank the sheets off of you, drops of what hadn't yet soaked completely in flew through the air and hit some of your friends and Mike backs away. He drops the tray from his hands when you climb out of bed with a look that could kill, wet chunks of food falling off of you and landing on the floor with slap.

"You did this?"

Sure, your best friend and long time crush had looped all your friends into coming over and surprising you for your birthday. But he also was the reason you not only lost a long morning of sleeping in, but were now wearing your breakfast and didn't have a warm bed to go back into when they left.

You're eyes narrowed at him. "You did this."

"I'm sorry!" He shouts, running out into the hallway.

"YOU'RE LUCKY I LIKE YOU WHEELER, OR YOU'D BE DEAD! NOW GET BACK HERE, AND CLEAN THIS UP!" You shout, running out right after him.

The remainder of the party stands awkwardly at your bedside where you left them.

Dustin laughs nervously. "That went well,"

Will gestured over his shoulder towards the hall, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Wait," he laughs. "Did Y/n finally just admit what I think Y/n just admitted?"

Max grimaced as she wiped away the remainder of food that had clung to her face, and flicked it away disgusted that she had been hit.

"Yup," Max says, popping the 'p'. "Didn't think I'd see the day, either."

#fictober20 #fictober 2020 #fictober #fictober day 3 #mike wheeler x reader #gender neutral imagine #requested #stranger things #mike wheeler #elmax #mike wheeler imagine #mike wheeler one shot #mike wheeler x gn!reader #mike wheeler x gender nuetral!reader #fic

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addictofsupernatural · 4 years ago

Text

Displays of PDA

Katsuki Bakugo : Hand Holding

The group had decided to go watch a movie together, and though Bakugo wanted to sit away from the rest of the group to spend some alone time with you, your friends didn't let you.

You felt bad. This had been the weekend before mid terms and the point of this little get out was to relax everybody, but Bakugo only wanted to spend the day doing nothing with you.

That's why you leaned into him while watching the movie, touching his wrist as his arm was stretched out on the arm rest. You rubbed two of your fingers back and forth on his wrist.

Bakugo glanced at you before staring at your hands. You then moved three of your fingers to rub his lower palm. He opened up his hand for you and you gladly began to entwine your fingers with his, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

He squeezed your hand, and a smile presented itself onto your face. You looked at your boyfriend, who was staring a little too intensely at the movie, as if not wanting to be caught staring at you or your hands.

Mina got up to use the restroom, having to pass through you all. When she stood, Bakugo released his small grip on your hand and had his hand go limp.

You felt a little hurt, but understood none the less. Bakugo was not a fan of PDA, feeling that the affection would lose its significance if there was a constant audience. He was comfortable with you specifically, and wanted to be comfortable in private.

You took your hand away and stopped leaning towards Bakugo. Though you didn't see, Bakugo furrowed his eyebrows. When Mina left he grabbed your hand from your lap, you looking over to see him glare.

He nodded toward the screen, indicating for you to look at it. Sometimes it was easier for him to convey his feelings without feeling the weight of being looked at.

He leaned into your ear, you not dating to move. He whispered, "Your hand is mine now, got it?"

You smiled at how silly and territorial that statement sounded, leaning away to look at him and nodding. You went back to looking at the movie, and he leaned back to your ear again.

"And thank you." He softly kissed just below your ear. Your face felt like it exploded, and you heard Bakugo chuckle at your reaction.

Eijiro Kirishima : Hugging

You were so excited to make this hot chocolate for your boyfriend. It was your specialty, and you loved making it in the cold weather. While you were making some, however, you felt a pair of arms warmly embrace you into a hard chest.

He snuggled into your hair, causing you to chuckle. You turned around as his arms went to your lower waist. You then gasped in realization. "You're not supposed to be in the cafeteria!"

He chuckled. "Why not?"

"Because I was gonna surprise you with some hot chocolate I made." You pouted.

He laughed, swaying you while you were in his arms. "Well that's no good, huh?" He teased, causing a smile to force its way into your lips. "Hmm, how about I wait in the common area?"

You glanced around if anyone was there, and in seeing no one else in the kitchen you gave him a soft kiss. "Yes please."

He nodded, giving you one final squeeze before leaving. You finished making the hot chocolate, carefully walking over to the couches for him. He stood up and gave you a side hug. Before you could say anything, Mina was pulling you away for you to help her with her wardrobe.

"I'll tell you how much I love it when you come back!" He called out.

"Okay!" You then rushed off with Mina.

Kaminari and Sero looked over to Kirishima and started shaking him. "What are you holding out on man?" Sero teased.

"Yeah, let us have some. It has the girlfriend magic." Kaminari added.

He laughed along with his friends. "No way! My magical girlfriend, my magical hot chocolate."

He took a gulp, and loved it. It was the best he had ever tasted, and the fact that you made it specifically for him made it so much better.

You came back, Kirishima quickly putting the cup down and running over to you. He picked you up and spun you around, you giggling. You put your hands around his neck.

"So manly." You said to him. You leaned deeper into the hug as he rocked your bodies with a big smile on his face.

When you two didn't know was that Kirishima's two friends had gulped down the hot chocolate to mess with him. When they started laughing, Kirishima ran over to the cup and looked at you in a panicked manner.

"It's fine." You said, smiling at his sigh of relief. "But now you owe a movie date."

"Deal." He went over to you, leaning forward for you to get on his back. "Hop on, I'll get my laptop."

You got on his back and snuggled into his back, giving the back of his neck little kisses.

Denki Kaminari : Cuddling

"Baby!"

Kaminari called out to you while yanking your bedroom door open, you and the girls turning towards him. His hair was still damp, having just come out of the shower, and he maneuvered around the girls to make his way over to you.

"Excuse me." He politely muttered to Mina, who was on the bed with you. He then threw himself at your side, wrapping you in his arms and snuggling into you. You made eye contact with each other and both smiled. "Hi."

You giggled. "Hi."

"What's up with him?" Jirou asked. "He's usually not this clingy to you."

"H–hey! I deserve to be like this with my girlfriend!" Blush had made its way to Kaminari's face.

"He's tired." You said as you ran your fingers through his hair, him snuggling more into you for it. "I'm sure working out with Bakugo and Kirishima is intense."

"Momo, continue what you were saying." Tsu said.

She glanced at Kaminari and looked worried. He smiled. "You don't have to worry about me, I don't gossip. Promise."

Everyone talked while you scratched his scalp, soon moving one hand to rub his neck. Kaminari felt good, but inside he felt bad. All this pampering was going to put him to sleep, and he really wanted to have some time alone with you once everybody left.

He sat up and scooted back to scoop you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and having you seated comfortably as he would rest his cheek at the top of your head and would go to putting his head on your shoulder to give you two or three kisses, rotating positions every so often.

Once everybody left he squeezed your stomach gently, sighing. "We're alone now."

"Yup." You turned around to face him and ran your hand through his hair, Kaminari briefly closing his eyes. "Poor baby, did you stay up for me?"

He nodded as you smiled at his adorable puppy eyes. "Do I get a prize?"

You laughed lightheartedly. "You're so innocent looking when you're tired. I love it."

He smiled and buried his face in your neck. "Baby~ I want a prize from you. Can I please get some kisses or something?"

His warm hand went underneath your shirt to feel your stomach. You softly chuckled. "Or something?"

"Baby, if I wasn't so tired I'd be putting you to sleep with my dick. But I am, so maybe you can put me to sleep." He explained it hopefully.

You laughed gleefully. "Your logic is something else babe." You ran your hand through his hair. "Hmm. How about kisses now, and tomorrow I wake you up with some head."

He gave you a few kisses up your neck and right under your jaw, which he knew you were sensitive to. "Deal, but I also get to eat you out and finger you before I dick you down after, okay?"

You hummed in approval, and he brought you down for your back to hit the bed. He then hovered on top of you to give you one more deep kiss. You smiled with your eyes half lidded. "Such a generous person."

"Such a caring and beautiful specimen."

You both went under the covers and began lazily making out until falling asleep in each other's arms.

Why do I kinda want to make a spicy fic out of the next day 👀

- - -

Suggest other characters I can do these for please :)

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ciggylungz · 5 years ago

Text

Show me yours

Blurb night- 1.8k words

(Request: Maybe more catholic school H but there bestfriend and there both v innocent and its their first time trying _______ (whatever you want) just a thought? (For the possible blurb night.)

“Did you hear what Lily was saying about Connor?”

y/n looked up when she heard Harry’s voice, the two of them in his room trying to finish their shared art project. They had to do a joint painting of the schools logo for the competition being held to pick a new art piece for the Catholic school. Y/n was currently trying to fix her minor mishap of mixing the purple too dark on the lower corner of the canvas.

“No? what happened?” her attention was divided between the art and Harry’s bite of gossip he was finding the correct verbiage for. “Lily said her and Connor did it!” his tone was slightly lower, whispering the last word so no one would hear a slight blush creeping onto his face. The revelation made the girl snap her head towards her best friend, eye’s widened a bit. The two of them were rather sheltered, they had attended the same private Catholic schools from the time they were in kindergarten up to the present as they were both in their second year of secondary school. The most rebellious thing they’ve ever really done was taking a second sip of the communion wine during mass, so hearing that their classmates may have had sex was very shocking to the pair.

“No way!” the project now took a backseat, y/n now fully invested in the drama Harry was relaying to her. “I swear! She said they did it in the bathroom!” , “Oh my gosh!...did she say anything like detailed?” the girl was just as nosy as her best friend. She wanted every drop of information she could squeeze from him. Harry smiled awkwardly, nervous repeating the words he’d heard from the two teens in question. “Uh…well she said they had s-sex in the bathroom, and Connor said she uh…’went down’ on him at his house..” while y/n knew the basics of sex, she didn’t exactly know much beyond ‘sex is between two married people and makes babies’ , so she questioned his revelation. “what does that mean?” , Harry wasn’t sexually experienced by any means, he was a kiss-less virgin but he would be lying if he said he didn’t know what certain sexual acts involved…he may be a good boy but he’s also a teenage boy with internet access.

His blush grew a few shades darker, opting to clear his throat and make sure the door was closed while he tried to find his voice again. “Uh..well-“ a uncomfortable chuckle escaped him while he tried to choke out the dirty words. “It’s when a girl puts their mouth on a boys private parts…” Y/n gawked at Harry, totally shellshocked at the fact that was a thing! She couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to do that, “Wait what?! Isn’t that dirty? Don’t you pee from there?!” the girl was now standing on her feet her innocent mind trying to comprehend this new information. “Well…yea but I don’t think it’s dirty? If you don’t shower maybe, and the boy doesn’t pee in their mouth…” a nervous hand reached up to scratch the back of Harry’s flushed neck.

“that’s so…weird….h-have you ever done that?” Y/n asked him with a slight bow of her head locking eyes with him, “No! I’ve never done it! I’ve just s-seen it before tha’s all…” the boy shifted uncomfortably, “You’ve seen it? Where?”

“in…porn”

Once again, a comically dramatic gasp ripped through the air from Y/n. she knew of porn, her brother had gotten caught watching it once and that’s the first time she found out people have sex on camera. That was another huge shock to her, yet this one seemed bigger.

“You watch porn?!”

“shush! you’re going to get me in trouble y/n” Harry shot her a glare, yanking her forward to sit on his bed with him, his palm moving to cover her mouth. “Don’t yell that! It’s a secret” Harry cast a nervous glance towards his shut bedroom door before removing his hand from her face. Y/n giving his chest a nice swat with furrowed brows. “Don’t do that again, jerk” Harry simply rolled his eyes. “Then stop being so loud!”

Y/n pouted slightly, crossing her arms over her chest and huffing. “Or what?” she challenged “Or ill glue your mouth shut.” His fingers moved to flick her forehead, which was a mistake since Y/n then chose to start yelling “MISS AN-“ yet she was silenced by his hand once more. “I’m serious Y/n stop it!”

Y/n suddenly got an idea, decided she’d bargain her way out of this one.

Harry knew that look, his eyes widened realizing she was about to suggest something that he may not want to hear. Y/n was a sweet girl, but she had a bit of a bossy side too.

“If you show me the video, I won’t tell.”

Well, Harry expected something, but definitely not that one. “W-wait what?” he couldn’t believe Y/n had just asked him to show her porn! What was he supposed to say? He knew if he showed her he’d have to take a cold shower, but he didn’t want his mom knowing he watched the videos either. “If you show me the video I won’t tell.” Her statement was very level, the angelic doe eyes coming back to persuade him, and well Harry was a sucker for that look.

Soon enough the pair were sat against his headboard, Harry’s laptop open to a private tab with Pornhub opened on it. He chose on of his favorites, a simple pretty tame blowjob video.

“are you sure you want to see it?” his palms were sweating, knees twitching every few minutes trying to control himself and keep his pants from tightening. “Play it, Harry.” Y/n took control, tapping the space bar to start the video.

The logo played before it got to the video, a man sitting on his couch filming his girlfriend kneeling in front of him slowly moving to undress the man in front of her. Y/n watched the screen intently while the woman went to work, tugging the mans cock free and stroking it but Y/n being Y/n the video didn’t suddenly change the atmosphere like it does in a romcom, instead she was full of questions and comments.

“Wow, I didn’t know boys privates looked like that. It looks kind of like a snake.” Harry was happy Y/n wasn’t making the situation too serious, laughing a little breaking the tense atmosphere listening to her talk. He tried to focus his gaze more on the wall in front of him then the porn playing on his computer so he didn’t pop a stiffy in front of her. “Uh…kinda? I guess…” , “Does your penis look like that too?”

Harry choked on air a bit, suppressing a cough. He sweats he can feel himself burning alive from the blush on his face. “I don’t think my penis looks like a snake y/n, no. I think it looks like a penis.” His response got him a ‘hmph’ from his friend which he of course, laughed at. Yet he wasn’t entirely prepared for her next sentence.

“Show me yours?”

This time Harry’s eyes were the ones wide as saucers, his jaw slightly slack and body gone tense. “What?!” Y/n giggled, finding his reaction a bit silly since they were already watching two people engage in oral, how is this any more shocking? “What? Show me yours” she shrugged slightly, Harry was trying to keep his head from exploding but an idea popped into his brain right before the urge to combust took over.

“I show you mine, you show me yours?”

“Harry I don’t have a penis.” Y/n replied with a ‘duh’ eye roll, causing an annoyed groan to come from her friend. “I am aware of that, smarty pants. I mean…if I show you my penis, you show me your boobs.”

He expected to get a smack or a immediate refusal from her, but surprisingly Y/n nodded, “That’s fair, I’m not putting your penis in my mouth just for the record.” She gave him a pointed look as her hands traveled up to loosen her uniform tie and start fumbling with the buttons of her shirt.

The boy felt frozen in place watching his best friend start to undress in front of him. His teenage boy mind was going crazy, this was the first time he was going to get to see boobs in person, he was a bit scared he might keel over and die from a hormone overdose.

“What are you waiting for? You’re supposed to show me yours. I’m not taking my boobs out if you’re not holding your end of the bargain up ,Harry.” Y/n’s hands stilled, giving him a pointed look that broke his trance quickly fumbling with his pants to shove them off his hips the outline of his plumping cock showing against the white and grey checker print of his boxers.

“Who’s gonna go first?”, his throat felt painfully dry while he talked swallowing hard after he finished. “You duh!” the girl pushed his shoulder lightly and pointed to his crotch waiting for him to reveal himself.

The boy took a deep breath, his hands shaking slightly as he tugged his cock through the flap in the front of his underwear. He grunted quietly, the cold air hitting his swollen tip. For a few moments nothing was said, Y/n quietly observed his organ taking in the details and pondering her thoughts before speaking, “Yours looks better than his, it’s prettier. Still kind of looks like a snake though.”

Harry sighed, he was glad she didn’t make a comment on his size or anything negative but the snake comment wasn’t exactly the erotic language he needed to get himself off, and then he remembered the deal. “Your turn.”

Y/n nodded, giggling a little bit as she unhooked the clasps of her bra and let them slip down her arms. Her breasts finally came into Harry’s view and god his balls were already constricting. He feared he’d really be the guy who cums in 2 seconds just looking at a girl, but this would be the right situation for it. Y/n didn’t have any clue how long boys lasted so if he was to bust then she probably wouldn’t tease him she’d just have more questions.

“God…they’re pretty Y/n.” The girl smiled shaking her chest a little so they bounced in front of his eyes. “Thanks, I grew them myself. I’m a b cup” she was adorable, so blissfully unaware of what she was doing for him. A smile and playful giggles still radiating from her while he was trying to keep himself from passing out.

“Can I touch-“

His request was soon cut off, not by Y/n but by the door swinging open and his shocked mother standing behind it.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry style drabble #blurb night #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles x yn #harry styles x reader #harry styles concept #harry styles request

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airplanned · 4 years ago

Text

It’s Glaringly Obvious

More Ned-does-it-wrong Whumptober for your fluffy enjoyment!

Prompt 12: I think I've broken something (broken bones)

Prompt 30: Where did that come from? (hiding an injury)

***

At least one of Link's fingers is broken. It's glaringly obvious, as he's been favoring his right hand while cooking and opening doors and even his usual exuberant hand gestures are a little lopsided.

He's otherwise acting as if nothing's wrong. He's gone about his usual daily chores, and done his usual exercises (although he did announce that it was "leg day" as if she ever had any interest at all in his training regimen). He went into town and bought ingredients for dinner and while he was there, he helped find three lost cows, so it must not be hurting him that badly.

She notes with suspicion that he's wearing full gloves today.

Definitely hiding something.

He grins at her across the table as they sit down to dinner (which he made). Maybe she's wrong. He picks up his spoon with his left hand. Maybe she's right.

She bows her head in a prayer of thanks for the meal, and throws in a prayer at the end for Link's hand.

"How was your day?" she asks.

"Good," he says. He scoops the whole radish out of his soup and balances it on his spoon. "I found some cows."

"That is impressive. And how are you feeling?"

He thinks for a second. Then says, "I feel kinda gross. Cows are gross."

"Indeed."

They eat in silence for a moment. They're sitting catty-corner from each other, as there's a large chunk of a dissected guardian turret on the other side of the table. She watches him from the corner of her eye before getting an idea. She’s going to make him use his hand.

She reaches over and places her own hand on his knee.

He looks up at her, curious, but when he sees her meeting his gaze head on, his face softens. The smile he gives her is fond. He shifts slightly closer to her in his seat so she doesn't have to reach so far.

He does not cover her hand with his own. He does not remove her hand from his person.

Instead, he goes back to eating.

Frustratingly, dinner ends without her gaining any more information about his silly hand.

Link most likely has a broken rib. It's glaringly obvious, as he has been visibly wincing every time he's lifted something or reached for something or turned or sat down since he came home from his monster hunt. When he goes into the storage area to get plates for dinner and he thinks she can't see him, he makes an attempt at stretching, reaching an arm over his head. But then he hisses and shrinks in on himself, slapping his elbow to his wounded flank and grabbing at his side with his other hand.

She stomps to the doorway, plants her hands on her hips, and demands, "Are you hurt?"

He spins on her, his eyes wide with the knowledge that he's been caught.

"No," he says. "Just--you know--stretching." He draws his arm across his chest and locks it in place with his opposite forearm. He grins at her and then gives a happy sigh as he releases.

He definitely just stretched the uninjured side.

She narrows her eyes at him.

On further consideration, she's unsure if it's a broken rib or some kind of flesh wound. She analyzes how his tunic is lying across his side, trying to detect the bulge of a bandage.

She needs to get a look at it. Or, barring that, she needs him to admit that there's something wrong with his side. And then let her look at it.

He collects a basket full of ingredients to haul outside to the cooking pot, and she moves to grab it for him.

"I got it," he says, one of his eyes twitching as he lifts it.

Again, she tries to take it. "Let me get it for you. You shouldn't be lifting that much weight."

He twists away from her with a grunt. "Why not?"

"Because you're hurt."

"I'm fine. I think you just want to stand too close to me." He winks at her.

She flushes and takes an instinctive step back.

He grins and walks past her and--

Ugh! Absolutely infuriating.

Outside, he's set himself to chopping up vegetables with tiny little chops. She takes a seat nearby and ponders how to make Link crack. She needs to ask him to do some serious physical activity so he'll call uncle. Or would that just hurt his body more when he refuses to hurt his pride? She doesn't actually want to injure him really.

It's a puzzle.

He's stirring slowly when she gets an idea. Wanting to stand too close to him, is she?

She scoots closer. And closer. And then leans against him under the guise of smelling dinner. She looks over at him from just a few short inches away and beams. "That smells delicious."

He smiles back. Leans against her a bit before turning back their meal.

She reaches up and traces the stitching on the edge of his tunic, letting her fingers drag. When he turns back to her, she gives him a flirty look from under her eyelashes. At least she hopes it's flirty. She's not an expert.

He gives her a bemused look. "You're frisky tonight." Then he turns back and stirs the soup some more.

Frisky!? She is indignant. Yes, she is--technically--trying to seduce him in hopes that he'll go "Oh ouch! My side!" But "frisky"?

He calls her frisky and then turns back to his pilaf?

That will not do at all.

With a huff, she snatches his spoon from his hand, throws it aside, twists so she's straddling his lap, and kisses him.

Let's see him turn away from that!

He makes a muffles noise of surprise, but then grabs for her back and pulls her closer. The kiss turns eager, desperate, and--wait, she had a mission. He was supposed to refuse her because he was so injured and she was supposed to throw a victorious finger in his face and--oh shit, she's kissing Link.

She doesn't stop kissing him.

He moans into her mouth, and she's not sure if it's in delight or discomfort. Maybe she shouldn't be doing this. Because of his injury.

Neither of them stop.

A few minutes later, one of his hands is in her shirt, and she's rucking up his tunic, and it's snagged on something, and--

He breaks the kiss with a curse, and she blinks at him in confusion until her senses return. Her hand is most definitely grazing a bandage. She yanks his shirt up to his armpits for a better look.

"Ah ha!" she says. She grins at him, but she's much more breathless than she was in her imaginings of this moment. "I knew it."

"You're very smart," he agrees, then grabs the back of her head and drags her in for another kiss.

Link has been shot in the leg. It’s glaringly obvious, as the arrow is still there, sticking out the side right under his knee. The leg gives out beneath him as he stumbles towards her, and he falls to one knee.

“Oh Goddess, Link!” She runs to him, bending to grip his shoulder.

Wincing, he says, “It’s fine. I’m good.”

“You are most certainly not good. You’ve been shot in the leg!”

“I’m...It’s fine.”

She frowns at that, and then straightens up and crosses her arms over her chest. If he’s fine, then he doesn’t need her help. “I see, so you’re just on the ground for the fun of it.”

“I’m not on the ground. This is...a kneel.”

“Well then, excuse me. Carry on.”

“I...meant to be down here.”

“Oh? Tying your shoe, are you?”

His boots do not have laces, but he looks down to check anyway.

“I...um...” His eyes dart around for an excuse.

She waits with pursed lips until his frantic searching lands on her face.

“Um. Will...you marry me?”

She blinks at him. And then explodes. “I beg your pardon!?”

He puts some effort into making his voice sound more confident, as if that will make a difference. “That’s what I’m doing down here. Asking you to marry me.”

He reaches for her hand, and she bats him away.

“I can’t believe you would—This is— Ugh! What on earth would you do if I said yes?”

“...Get...married?”

“Ugh!” She throws her arms in the air and starts to pace. Link, of course, stays where he is. “I can’t believe you would be so flippant about—This is a serious matter, and—am I’m just a joke to you?”

“No! What? Zelda, marry me.”

“Why would I do such a foolish thing?”

His brows crinkle in confusion. Or maybe pain. “Because I love you?”

“Ha!”

She considers leaving him here in the road.

“Are...you turning me down?” he asks.

“Are you seriously asking me to marry you instead of admitting you’ve been shot?”

He nods. “I’m seriously asking you to marry me.”

She stops pacing and narrows her eyes at him. He gives her his most hopeful look.

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll agree when you admit there’s an arrow in your knee.”

He stares at her. Then he licks his lower lip. It takes him a very long time to say, “Um. Clearly you can see...”

He gestures at his leg and trails off.

She folds her arms again, stares him down, and waits.

“Zelda,” he says. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I’ve been shot. In the leg. With an arrow.”

...Well. That’s...

“Actually, there’s also a second one in my shoulder.”

“Link!”

#Zelda #Whumptober fail #my fic

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heartofsnark · 4 years ago

Text

Rent-Free (Johnny Silverhand/OC Female V)

Notes; IVE BEEN ENABLED AGAIN!!!!!! AHHHHH BLAME @rosyibby, but uh, yeah basically given how much we talk about Johnny living rent free in V’s head, it made me think of paying rent through other means...*cue the cheesy porn music* Additionally, this does technically go along with my previous Johnny Silverhand fic, but like they’re not so intertwined that you won’t get it. It’s porn, you’ll catch on. Thanks for all the love on my previous nasty Johnny porn.

Word Count: 2334

Warnings: Oral, Cunnilingus, Unprotected Sex (hologram fucking has perks), Vaginal Sex, Kissing, Johnny being gross, Dirty Talk, I’m lowkey still insecure on writing dirty talk, so hopefully this isn’t bad, also yeah game still isn’t out so he’s prob ooc to some degree

Hot water rushes from the shower head, relaxing Aidan’s aching muscles. Silence around her as she works shampoo into her hair, a welcomed moment of peace in her life, something that’s been so absent since this mess has begun. It’s late, around four in the morning, she just finished a smuggling run with Jackie. Things went south as they often do, her entire body aches from the shootout, but they got out alive and that’s all that matters.

She works and lather soap into her skin, feeling the roughness of scars gathered contrasting against the soft give of her body. Aidan squeezes her own breast, feeling the heat and tingle of pleasure from her own groping fingers. She starts to move her other hand further down between her thighs, wanting to take advantage of the moment of calm.

“You pent up again?”

“God damn it!” She yells out when Johnny’s voice rings through her head, nearly slipping in her own shower. And he laughs at her as he always does, she quickly finishes washing, before stepping out.

Johnny is leaning against the bathroom wall, arms crossed in front of him as he watched Aidan walk past, no shame in the way his dark brown eyes drag across her naked frame. Weeks have passed since their little…interaction when she tried to find a hookup. The encounter wasn’t brought up again, Aidan refusing to acknowledge it.

And she still doesn’t acknowledge it, the weird sexual tension that’s been created between her and the ghost in her head.

“Don’t rush on my account,” Johnny says as she quickly dries off and throws on an overside shirt along with a pair of shorts. She’ll just get to sleep as soon as possible, ignore the dampening heat in her core.

“You’re the actual worst, you know that?” She grumbles as she leaves the bathroom, making a beeline for her bedroom. Hopefully, none of Johnny’s memories or brain weirdness will come through her dreams, she needs some peace.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve told me a billion times, well, that is when you weren’t screaming my name or thinking about riding my-“

“Shut the fuck up!” She yells out, her neighbors must think she’s crazy, but she can’t help but scream at him as she flops back on her bed.

Aidan can feel his gaze on her, looking up to see Johnny standing at the foot of her bed, looking down at her. The position reminds her of that night, him watching her getting fucked, the heat in her core rises again. There’s a lazy calmness in the way he looks her over , no hurry or fervor, just taking her in. His eyes hovering around the plush of her thighs, moving up to where her shirt has ridden up, revealing an expanse of her soft stomach.

“Seriously,” she starts to speak again, hoping her words can cool the heat gathering between her thighs, “you’re like the worlds shittiest roommate.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, you really fucking are. You have no boundaries, you do nothing but annoy me, I can’t rid of you, hell, at least a roommate might pay rent.”

“Oh, you need me to pay rent? Sure, just let me get my wallet,” Johnny says, reaching into his pocket just to pull out his middle finger.

“Cute.” She rolls her eyes, of course he’s going to be a shit about it.

“Cute enough for you to throw your panties at.”

“Shut up! Just shut up!”

He lets out a low chuckle, resonating deep in his chest, the sound stoke the flames in her center just that much more. Why is he so fucking attractive? Then she feels it, a hand grabbing at her shin, the rough callouses of his right hand.

“You really want me to start contributing something?” There’s a teasing tone to his voice.

“I mean, I know you can’t, but you could at least stop irritating me.”

“Eh, don’t think I can, but I can think of something I can do that might make you a little less tense,” he says, hand skimming further up her leg.

“Seriously, offering sex in place of rent, you watch that much porn?”

“C’mon, Samurai, we’re way past the point of you pretending you don’t wanna fuck me, don’t you think?”

And he’s probably right.

“I’m definitely right.”

“You know reading my mind is not attractive, right?”

“Yet, you still find me attractive, funny how that works.”

“Fine, fine,” she covers her face with her arm, cheeks burning red, “I wanna fuck you, happy?”

“I mean, wasn’t exactly a secret, but it’s nice hearing you admit it.”

“Shut up and touch me.”

And then he’s over her, knees on her mattress on either side of her hips, hands grabbing the bottom of her shirt. He’s quick and rough as he yanks it off over her head, throwing it across the room. She barely has a moment to take in the cool air from her chest being exposed before he’s groping and touching her, the contrast between the smooth cold metal of his left hand and the warm calloused fingers on his right makes her whimper, arching her back to meet his touch. The feeling of his thumbs rubbing over her nipples draws another gasp from her throat and then the heat of his mouth connects to her chest.

“Fuck,” she curses as he works harsh kisses down her body, his touch is hungry and passionate, but most importantly of all completely unpredictable.

There’s no patterns to where he kisses; whether it’s her collarbones, the plush of her breasts, her ribs, or her stomach. No way for Aidan to know if it’ll be the press of his lips, the laving of his tongue, or the bite of his teeth. The only constant is the scratch of his beard, rubbing her tender skin raw under his touch. She tries to wrap her fingers in his hair, to wrap the dark strands around her fingers but he moves too quickly, and she only gets a brief touch of them.

A sharp nip just above the waistband of her shorts is her only warning before he’s yanking them off of her. Rough fingers run through her slit, just a fleeting touch as Johnny gathers her slick on his fingers.

“You’re soaked.”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be keeping my mouth busy,” he tells her before sucking his fingers into his mouth, licking her wet from his own skin.

Then he’s practically bending her in half, pressing her thighs back to her chest, the force lifting her hips and ass off the bed. The position completely opens her up to him, no way to hide her cunt from his view. Before she can squirm or get embarrassed, his mouth is on her. His tongue licking through her folds, lapping up every drop of slick. He eats her out like he’s desperate for it, like he needs to drink up every gush of wet to survive, licking deep inside of her. His tongue finding every spot that will make her wetter.

His beard rubs the lips of her sex raw, but she can’t find it in her to mind the edge of pain, when his tongue runs up to her clit. No true pattern, no way to predict how long he’ll go between sucking harshly on the bundle of the nerves to licking around it; back and forth between too much and not enough. The heat inside of her is reaching a boiling point, nearly crashing over the precipice of pleasure, but he pulls back before she can meet her end every time. She buries her fingers in his hair, finally feeling the softness of the locks, but she despite her pressing she can’t control his pace.

And he stops.

She whines at the loss of pleasure as he pulls away from her. Slick coats his lips and chin, shining in the moonlight that drifts into her bedroom. His looks are grossly unfair for someone who’s both dead and technically in his eighties. Oh god, she’s fucking an eighty something year old digital ghost-

He presses his lips to her and she can’t help gasp, tasting herself on his tongue. Johnny presses down on her body, so his body weight presses her thighs down against her chest, erection grinding into her pussy and her ankles practically on his shoulders. Her slick on his chin presses wetly against her, as his tongue pushes deeply into her mouth. She meets his lips and the passion of it, trying to taste Johnny through her own wet, taking in where he tastes like cigarettes.

“Stop thinking,” he tells her as he pulls away, realizing the lip lock was to stop her train of thoughts about all the reasons this is wrong.

“I really wish I could, sorry, but I mean…can you honestly say this isn’t fuckin’ weird?”

“Who gives a shit?”

“Wow, that fixed all my anxiety, thank you for you endless wealth of wisdom.” Aidan rolls her eyes.

“So, the goal is now to fuck you hard enough your brain shuts off, got it.”

“I wi-” she pauses when she feels his cock pressing against her thigh, smearing pre-cum on her skin, “when did you get naked?”

“I’m a hologram, I can just do that.”

“Wha-so when you only had your dick out last time, that was purely for effect?” Aidan is grinning and already on the verge of laughing at the idea of Johnny being that committed to pretending he has to undo his pants.

“I mean, kinda…”

And she bursts out laughing, it’s just too silly and ridiculous, he’s so fucking dramatic. How could one man be so dramatic? What the fuck? Her stomach hurts with the force of her laughter.

“Don’t laugh at me when I’m trying to fuck you.”

She tries to stifle her laughter , biting her lip as she looks up at Johnny, he’s smiling. Not a smirk or some smug expression, just a soft little smile, as he looks down at her. The anxiety and tension that has started to creep back up have mostly subsided, humor settling her nerves.

He grinds his cock down against her slick cunt, reminding her of what they’ve been building up too.

“This is like…safe, right?”

“Don’t worry, can’t knock you up or anything. I’ll just fuck you like I’m trying to.”

Her face flushes red at his words and then he thrust his hips, sliding into her. She screams out his name, between the position and her own slick, he hits deep inside of her, no resistance as her body takes him in. He doesn’t tease or hold back, his entire length pressing into her, filling her completely.

“Fuck, I knew you’d be tight, but god damn, feel like I’m break you open.”

“Ah, uhhh, don’t say weird shit.”

Johnny’s thrusts are punishing and harsh, brutal in the snap of his hips and she wishes she could hear the wet slap of their bodies connecting over and over again.

“What, don’t wanna hear about how your cunt is choking my dick.”

“Mnnnn….” All she can respond with is a whine.

“Don’t wanna hear about how I’m gonna fill you up, how I’m gonna make you leak my cum.”

“Johnny…”

He’s pounding into her, each thrust and stroke of his cock inside of her building up the heat inside of her, tightening the tension in her core. The head of his dick hits deeply, harshly fucking against the sensitive spot deep inside of her. Slick keeps her able to take it all, despite the roughness and the size of him, each slam of him into her making more gush out. She can feel her own wet dripping down her the curve of her ass.

“Gonna rearrange your fuckin’ guts, make sure you fit me and no one else.” His voice is tight with a slight growl, movements speeding up.

And while a part of her knows it’s dramatic, just bedroom talk if his dick was in her organs, they’d have some issues. But, she swears he’s doing exactly that. Carving out his place inside of her, a place only meant for him, so deep inside of her she can feel it in her throat. Stroking the embers of a fire that only he can turn into an inferno.

When that inferno of pleasure builds too high, the tension within her snaps, the bubble burst, and she’s crying out incomprehensibly as she cums on his cock. Everything whites out, mind empty as her body is overridden with pleasure, cunt clenching around him and body squirming as he keeps fucking her through her orgasm.

“Holy fuck, you’re gonna milk me dry, fuck!”

And he cums inside of her, hot and warm, flooding her with it. Heavy thick spurts of white coating her insides until it’s too much for her body to hold in, dripping out where the two connect. Her body is still twitching and squirming as she works through her aftershocks, once she’s a little more in touch with reality, she wonders whether his cum on her sheets will need cleaning.

He pulls out of her and even more of it spills out, Aidan whimpers between the loss of him inside of her and the mess on her thighs. Johnny rolls over to lay next to her, it still astounds her just how real he feels, his body heat next to her own.

She wants to lay on him, she realizes, a desire to lay her head on his chest. Aidan isn’t seriously considering cuddling with him, is she losing her mind?

“Just ask for what you want, dumbass.”

He wraps an arm around her sweaty shoulder and tugs her in against him, her cheeks reddening as she hides her face in his chest. There’s a lot she could mull over, a lot to think about, but with her eyelids growing heavier…it’s best to leave it alone for the night, to take Johnny’s advice for once and stop thinking so much.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #johnny silverhand

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Note

5, sternclay, nsfw? 👀

Here you go

5: Incubus

“Buddy, I promise, you can come in and cuddle in like, ten minutes.”

The whining at the bedroom door stops, replaced by a big, wet nose, just visible through the crack at the bottom of the door as it snuffles back and forth. It’s very cute, but Barclay is not about to let his dog deprive him of a much needed jerk-off session.

He’s ready for bed, so it’s just a matter of pulling down his pajama pants and getting to it. Closing his eyes, he pictures that cute customer who gets black coffee and a croissant every morning at the Lodge. It takes a few tries to find a fantasy he likes, the one about the back counter and the new uses for a spatula.

Outside the door, Sass starts whining again, scratching frantically at the wood. There goes his deposit.

God, he can practically feel the guy up against him.

The bed dips on the outside of each thigh. Opening his eyes reveals a man wearing nothing but deep blue boxer briefs and a smile.

“Holyshitwhatthefuck?” He clambers back, banging his head on the wall in his hurry to sit up, “what the fuck man, how’d you get in here?”

“A portal between dimensions. That’s the, um, simplified version. But don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you. The opposite really. I’m an incubus.”

“Why the fuck is a fucking sex demon in my bedroom?” Barclay yanks his pants up. The incubus looks sad at this development.

“I feed on sexual energy, and to do that I follow trails of that same energy to their source. You have a lot of it.”

“Yeah, year-long dry spell’ll do that.”

“Consider it broken.” The demon leans forward only for Barclay to hold up a hand.

“Nope. This is not how I want to break it. Sorry.”

“Is it my appearance? I can look like anyone--or anything--you want.” His features morph, eyes going from brown to blue to green, hair from honey-blond to fire red, “if you’re shy, my powers let me see into your deepest fantasies and make them come true.”

“No that’s not the problem, I wanna fuck someone I have some kinda connection to, not some guy who dropped into my bedroom. And would you please knock it off with that face-changing? I’m not gonna fuck you, so you can just look like yourself.”

The incubus starts, surprised by his sharp refusal, features landing on short, black hair, blue eyes, and a face that’d make a movie-star insecure.

“I said you don’t have to try and be hot.”

“...This is how I look.”

“Oh. Uh. Cool.”

The demon smiles, “Having second thoughts?”

He takes a deep breath and lies through his teeth, “Nope.”

With that, he stands, grabbing the nearest shirt and pulling it on. Sass wiggles when he opens the door, takes one look behind him, and runs the other way.

“I wish I knew why earth canines react that way to me. I have a hellhound named Mother Leeds who adores me.”

“Jersey Devil reference?” He pads into the kitchen, starts the kettle and rummages in the cabinet for the most soothing tea blend he owns.

“Yes!” The demon grins from his new position by the fridge, “when I found her she was pregnant with a litter. Most people don’t get it. Demons don’t either.”

“Friend of mine likes Mothman and all that kinda stuff. Uh” He takes a cup down, reaches for a second one automatically and then stops, “are you gonna hang around? Because my answer isn’t changing and if you keep pestering me I’ll just leave the apartment.”

“No, I’ll drop it. You’re not interested and sexual energy only works if it’s from something consensual. But, um” he toys with a magnet, “could I ask a few questions before I go?”

“About?”

“Humans. How things work up here, what your daily lives are like, that sort of thing.”

“Uh, sure.” He gets down the second mug, “is this so you can better seduce them or something?” Turning, he finds the incubus sitting at the table, producing a small notebook and pen from the air.

“No, this is my own research. I’m, um, more curious about humans than the average demon. I basically ended up an incubus because at my last job I kept trying to talk with humans or spend more time around them than was wise and, well, my supervisor got sick of it. So they offered me a reassignment to a role where the whole point was to be around people.”

“You fuck people just so you can, like, interview them afterwards?” He sets the two mugs on the table, notices that the notebook is crammed with questions in neat, elegant handwriting.

“Technically, I also need the energy from it. But, um, yes” he blushes, “I know it’s a sort of silly hobby.”

“I don’t think it’s silly to wanna know about other worlds and people. But this doesn’t seem like the most, uh, effective way to do it.”

A sigh as the demon picks up his mug, “You’ve got that right. Sometimes I can get a few questions in during ‘pillow talk’ but mostly it’s in and out. Literally.” He snickers at his own bad joke, which further kindles the inexplicable, protective impulse Barclay feels towards him, “Don’t get me wrong, I like my work, and being a good incubus takes skill and dedication. It just...isn’t quite what I thought it’d be.” He sips the tea, brings the mug away from his mouth to study the liquid, “what kind is this?”

“Mostly chamomile.”

“Chamomile…” he flips through the book, which contains more pages than should be physically and spatially possible, “that’s a plant, one that humans thing is calming, right?”

Barclay can’t help but smile, “Right. You want me to sit here and quiz you?”

“No, there’s too much to discover. What would you say is your area of expertise?”

“I’m a cook, so food.”

“Food, food, ah here it is. Let’s see, why do humans persist in eating things that could kill them?”

“You mean things like rhubarb or are we in, like, Fugu territory here?”

The demon smiles, “I have no idea, please say more.”

They sit at the table until two in the morning, at which point Joseph ,the incubus, excuses himself to go collect energy from a willing participant. Before he disappears, he takes a chance and tells Joseph that he can come back if he has more questions. The demon thanks him and, out of what Barclay suspects is a habit more than anything else, blows him a kiss goodbye.

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

“Y’know, I kinda figured you’d look more demonic. Do incubi just get human forms?” Barclay shakes red pepper flakes onto his pizza while Joseph finishes a filled breadstick.

“This isn’t my ‘true’ form. When you asked me just to look like myself when we met, I figured you meant the least alarming version.”

“As long as it’s not, like, a beast with a thousand eyes, we’re good.”

Joseph wipes his mouth and by the time the napkin reaches the other corner of his lips, Barclay is gasping.

His nails turn sharp and silver, his eyes pure black, but it’s his skin that’s most noticeable; it’s swirls and swoops of blue and silver, dancing down his arms and blooming out from the neck of his “Museum of Anthropology” souvenir shirt. He stands, giving Barclay a fuller view. Short horns sprout from his head, doubtless the perfect size and texture to hold him in place with your dick down his throat. His tail is that same mix of royal blue and silver, the right length to wrap around your hand and tug while you fuck him. Every inch of him is made to be pinched and pulled, groped and fondled, and Barclay will not be standing up from the table any time soon.

“It’s the color that gets people.” Joseph smiles with pointed teeth as he sits back down.

“It’s incredible, Joseph.”

The demon smiles, mischievous, “I’m glad you like it. Now, where were we?” He uncovers his notebook from a stack of parmesan packets and clicks his pen, appearance fading back to the human one Barclay is used to. He mourns his loss for a moment, before Joseph draws him into an animated conversation about movie theaters.

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

“Come on Sass, it’s okay. Look, I even have your favorite.” Joseph holds out the treat, still fresh from the oven, while Barclay puts the rest of the batch out of range. The dog no longer runs from the demon, but will not come within arms reach of him.

Sass whines, looking from Joseph to Barclay and back.

“Here” Barclay settles on the couch next to him, resting his arm along the back of it, “see, buddy, he’s our friend.”

Sass creeps forward, still on his belly, plucks the treat from Joseph’s palm, and retreats to his bed.

“Progress.” Joseph leans back, pleased. Their positions mean he comes to rest with Barclays arm around him. Barclay doesn’t move it, and the demon stays put until the end of the episode of Hells’ Kitchen

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

The newest Agent X is so engrossing that Barclay doesn’t register Joseph until his friend slumps onto the bed.

“Hey, you’re early.” He sets the book down on the nightstand, scooching to where the demon sits rubbing his forehead.

“I’m, um, I’m having a bit of a problem.” When he looks up, silver and blue peeks through the skin on his face, “I misjudged how much energy I was going to get from my last two visits. I’m so weak I don’t think I can make it back home. I, um, I came here because if I’m going to be stuck and without powers I” his horns appear and he scratches them awkwardly, “I want it to be around someone I trust.”

“What’ll happen if you can’t get more energy?”

“I’ll get sick, and if the worst happens I’ll have to signal for someone to come get me. Which’ll get me demoted for sure.” He tucks his legs up onto the bed. He’s wearing the UFO socks Barclay gave him as a surprise last week, and the cook sets a hand on a flying-saucer covered ankle.

“You can stay as long as you need, okay? And if there’s anything else I can do to help, let me know.”

“Unless you feel like taking me door to door to ask your neighbors if they want to fuck, a safe place to rest is what I need most.”

“What if, uh, you recharged here?” He draws a finger up and down the side of Josephs’ calf.

The incubus raises his eyebrows, “Barclay, are you forgetting how we met?”

“I didn’t want to fuck you then, but now...now you’re you, this handsome, clever, dorky guy who also happens to be a sex demon who hangs around my house most nights. I, I didn’t ask about sooner because I was afraid you’d think it was fuck me or lose our friendship, but if I can help you in a kinda self-serving way, I’m down.”

Joseph shakes his head, “That’s sweet, but you’re not the only one with concerns. How can I be sure you actually want me, and you’re not just offering because you want to help?”

Barclay snaps his fingers, “You can read my deepest desires, right? How about you take a peek and tell me what you see?”

Joseph closes his eyes, tail twitching as he concentrates, and Barclay gets the distinct pleasure of watching his face as he learns the truth.

“Oh. OH. Um, you’re not kidding about how badly you want me. And some of this makes the reaction you had the one time I showed up in a suit make way more sense. But we can explore that later.” His eyes, now-pitch black, snap open, “right now, big guy, I’ll do whatever you want, however you want it.”

“In that case” Barclay catches Joseph just as he tries for a kiss, “how about you tell me what you want?”

“Barclay, I’m an incubus, I want whatever the person I’m feeding on wants.”

“Nuhuh, I don’t buy that, babe. You’re telling me there’s nothing that’s your favorite, or that you’re curious about?” He teases their lips together.

“N-no?”

“You’re not getting any kisses until you tell me the truth.”

Joseph narrows his eyes with a “hmmph.” Then, as if it’s his greatest secret, he whispers, “I want to know what it’s like to get a massage as foreplay. No one’s ever wanted it or offered, and it sounds so nice.”

Barclay rewards him with a kiss. The demon melts against him, slides a forked tongue into his mouth to tease it. Clawed fingers tug at his shirt until Joseph remembers he can do magic and renders them both naked with a wave of the hand.

When they part, Joseph licks his lips, “Holy hell, Barclay, that kiss was enough to make me feel better than I did this morning. Tastes nice too, like coffee with lots of cream.”

“So, coffee the way you like it.” Barclay nudges him backwards, rolls him over as the incubus keeps talking.

“Usually it’s a neutral sweetness. I wonder, hmm, maybe it has something to do with the fact you’re attracted to me, as in the actual meOHohhhhhhh” he flattens into the bed like a cat on a sunny floor as Barclay digs his thumbs under his shoulder blades.

“You can theorize later babe, I promise. Right now, all you gotta do is let me rub you down. Uh, can you magic up some oil or something? It’ll feel better if--great, thanks.” Barclay sets the lit massage candle safely on the nightstand, waiting for it to melt.

“Should I put my human form back on now that I can hold it?”

“Nope” he traces his hands up parallel patches of silver, pinches one horn playfully, “I love that version of you, but this one is so, so, fucking hot. Now” be kisses the base of his neck, “relax.”

Drizzling liquid wax down his spine makes the incubus moan, but the sound is nothing compared to what happens when he starts kneading him like dough. It’s a yowl, rough and inelegant in a way Joseph never is, and Barclay dedicates the next fifteen minutes to finding new ways to trigger it. He’s so beautiful, it’s like touching a painting, a galaxy, a miracle.

By the time he reaches his lower back the incubus is grinding on the bed and Barclay is half-hard from touching him. He grips Joseph’s ass, parting it enough to grind between the cheeks.

“Don’t tease” his tail delivers a scolding thwack to Barclays cheek. The cook growls, turning his head to capture the offending appendage between his teeth.

“OHholyffffffuckinghell.” Joseph rips the blanket as he flails, “no one’s ever thought to do that before and now I really wish they had.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. He ignores his growing hard-on in favor of nipping and kissing his way down Joseph’s tail. It’s velvety, feels like nothing he’s ever experienced as it twitches and trembles under his tongue. The base gets an extra-hard lovebite and Joseph moans, rolling over so fast he nearly catches Barclay in the face with his cock. And what a cock, on the narrow side but covered in swirling ridges.

“Holy shit, you just get hotter and hotter.”

“Th-thank you, big guy, now for gods sake pleeEEEase fuck me.” He whimpers adorably when Barclay licks up his shaft.

“Okay babe, we can fuck. But I think…” he grabs the incubus, flipping them so Joseph straddles him, “I want you to fuck me.”

Joseph registers his words and his eyes glow deep blue.

“Uh, is that a good thing?”

“Yes, big guy, it’s the closest I get to having my pupils dilate when aroused. And since you look so good underneath me, I’ll expedite things” he snaps his fingers and Barclay inhales in surprise; his ass is dripping lube and stretched like someone just pulled three fingers away from it.

“Fuck yeah” he spreads his legs, “c’mon blue eyes, don’t make me wait anymoreOHFUCK, fuck, yeah, like that.” He hooks his legs around Joseph as the incubus thrusts all the way in. Joseph kisses in precise shapes up and down his face, even as his hips keep a rapid, erratic rhythm.

“Shit, shit, Barclay you taste so good, feel so good, please, please don’t stop touching me.”

“Not sure I could ever keep my hands to myself again, babe, god you’re so fucking handsomeAH, hah, someone got a praise kink?” He gasps out laughter as Joseph fucks him harder with each kind word. The ridges on his cock are solid enough that Barclay feels them with each drag, and it sets his toes curling.

“Maybe a little one” the incubus smiles against his neck, “though kink is a distinctly human concept and a complex one-SHITfuck, fuck please do that again.” He kisses Barclay hard as the human obligingly pulls his tail with one hand and smacks his ass with the other. Teeth catch Barclay’s lower lip on the next tug, a moan spilling from Josephs’ mouth down his chin.

“That’s it baby, fuck me while I rough you up, fuck, Joseph, your dick is fucking perfect, never gonna want another one, c’mon please, I’m close.”

Joseph sits up, grinning joyfully, and grips Barclays cock. It’s a masterful handjob, because how could a sex demon give anything else, but what strikes Barclay most is how happy and relaxed Joseph is. The incubus admitted once that even when he was having sex, he constantly worried about fulfilling the fantasy to earn enough energy to feed. Yet here he’s laughing and smiling, eyes aglow as he works Barclay up to the best orgasm of his life.

It means something; Barclay only hopes Joseph will stay in his life long enough for him to figure out what.

He’s too busy with the sparks behind his eyelids and the pleasure coursing down from his head to his toes to note that Joseph managed to make them cum at the same time. The incubus pushes a hand through his fair, swooping it back and off his face, as he notes this accomplishment.

“I want to run a marathon. Or maybe go hiking, or swim the lake. I have so much energy. Barclay, it’s amazing. You, it’s never been like that before. It’s felt good, but that was fucking transcendent.

“No fucking kidding.” Barclay shifts onto his side, nestling up against him so his head is under Joseph’s chin. He yawns, kisses a blue shoulder, “but you might have to burn off some energy without me. You wore me out, blue eyes.”

Joseph adjusts his arms so he’s holding him, “If I stay the night, can I walk Sass with you in the morning?”

Barclay nods, already falling asleep, safe in the knowledge that Joseph is okay and, better yet, so fond of him that his eyes are still glowing, “You got a deal, babe.”

#sternclay #agent stern/barclay #reader requests #monster march #TAZ amnesty

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queen-scribbles · 4 years ago

Text

Vigilance

Post-Echoes of Oblivion Keme/Jorgan, because why not?

---

Keme was trying to be quiet.

And all it took to undo her efforts was a shape darting past the balcony in her peripheral vision. Likely just a flutterplume or something else innocuous, it nevertheless provoked a reaction in her hyper-vigilant state. She managed to bite back the yelp, but her knee banged the table when she jolted. Hard enough to bruise and rattle the blaster rifle component spread in front of her for cleaning.

Dammit. She grimaced and tensed when she heard movement from the bedroom. That was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid, but military careers did not heavy sleepers make.

There was a moment of silence, where she pictured Aric noting her side of the bed was empty(and had been long enough the sheets were cool) and then, just loud enough to carry, “Keme?”

“Out here,” she called back, rubbing her knee and scowling at the window, now empty of whatever had startled her and showing only purple-black sky.

The bed squeaked. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Keme sighed. “I was trying not to wake you, sorry.”

Another beat, another squeak, followed by the shuffled of footsteps and Aric’s voice from the open doorway to their bedroom(she should have remembered to close that). “So if everything’s alright, what’re you doing up?”

She fiddled with the vibration cell for her rifle and didn’t turn to look at him. “Just couldn’t sleep.” Didn’t want to sleep. “This seemed more productive than staring at the ceiling.”

He huffed a quiet laugh as he moved to join her. “You didn’t drink Theron’s caf, did you?”

“Hell, no,” Keme chuckled in return. “I get wired enough off the regular stuff; I think that high-octane abomination he and Hylo drink might kill me.” She let her gaze settle on the scar across his chest as he sat on the couch, ‘looking at him’ without making eye contact for fear he’d read her like a holonovel.

Unfortunately, he could read the avoidance just as well. “Keme. What’s wrong? And don’t say nothing, you only do this sort of thing when something’s bothering you.”

Her sigh was tinged with a growl. “It’s not... just that I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, meeting his gaze with lingering reluctance. “I don’t want to.”

Aric’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

Keme wrinkled her nose and ran one hand through her hair. “It’s silly...” Part of why I didn’t want to wake you...

“I doubt that,” he scoffed. “You have good instincts, Commander; if it’s bothering you enough to prompt midnight weapon maintenance, odds are it’s not silly.”

She smiled wryly at the confidence in his voice, even rough with sleep, but hesitated a moment before the words finally tumbled out. “I’m worried he’ll still be there.”

“Valkorion?” Aric asked gruffly after a beat.

Keme nodded, tucked back hair the movement freed.”I know he’s supposedly gone for good, but...” She bit her lip and sighed. “I’ve thought that twice, Aric. Twice he was gone and twice he came back.” Her fingers curled into the rug beneath her. “And now even with everyone from Satele to Lana to Senya telling me he’s gone, the Force feels different, I don’t believe it. I’m not connected to the Force like they are, I can’t be sure.” Her gaze dropped to the rifle spread across the table. “I feel like I have to be ready, have to be vigilant, so if he comes back again, I can end him again. However many times it takes.”

He didn’t say anything, but she could feel him watching as she started slotting the pieces of her rifle back together.

She didn’t make it far before setting the half-assembled weapon down and meeting his gaze again. “And I’m afraid even if he never... physically comes back, I”ll still see him in my dreams.”

“Hey. Come here.” Aric reached down and tugged her arm to move her from her spot on the floor to sit next to him. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders to pull her close. “He was in your head, Keme.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “While I absolutely believe you’re capable of destroying him for good, it makes sense to worry he’ll pop back up. It’s the furthest thing from silly to consider a devious and powerful enemy having an escape plan; that’s just good tactical sense.”

Her lips curved in a smile at his reassurance and she traced her fingers along the scar on his chest as his thumb brushed over one on her shoulder. “Nice to have someone who doesn’t think I’m just paranoid.”

“Never, boss.” There was a heavy dose of amusement in his voice. “Feel like you’ll be coming back to bed soon, or do you want company out here?”

Keme pulled back enough to shoot him a protesting look. “Jorgan, I can’t ask-”

“You’re not,” he cut her off, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “‘Sides, the Special could prob’ly use a good once-over. It’s been a while.”

She doubted that; he took better care of that rifle than some people did their children. But she also knew what his offering meant, so, “Company would be kinda nice. If you need to clean it anyway...”

He nodded, smiled, and extricated himself with one last kiss to the top of her head. “Be right back.”

Keme eased herself back to the floor as he ducked into the bedroom and resumed reassembling her blaster rifle.

Aric reappeared after a little over a minute, the well-loved duranium-barrel special held in one hand while the other finished yanking on a dark grey t-shirt. He paused a moment to make mental calculations about space, then sat on the floor next to her to start disassembling his sniper rifle for cleaning.

They worked in silence, but just his being there helped settle her frayed nerves after today. He had her back, trusted her instincts, and she trusted him. Thoroughly and implicitly. It didn’t take long for them to finish--she’d been half done when he woke up, and the Special really didn’t need the once-over he gave it.

“Still not tired,” Keme muttered, setting her rifle on the table and rubbing her eyes with thumb and forefinger. She managed to swallow the threatening yawn, but it still stretched her words on the way down.

“Keme.” Aric shot her a skeptical look as he rested his gun across one of the chairs.

“Still don’t wanna sleep,” she corrected herself. She plunked on the sofa, leaned her head back to stare at the ceiling. Much as she hated it, she couldn’t shake the sick dread she’d see him if she fell asleep.

Aric sat next to her, shifting to lean against where the couch arm met the back, and tugged her close again. “Alright.”

The angle had her reclining, and his heartbeat in her ear, and she knew exactly what he was doing. She smiled wryly into his chest. Every time she thought she couldn’t love him more he went and proved her wrong. “You don’t have to stay out here, y’know,” she murmured as she settled in on top of him.

He slid an arm around her and his chin pressed lightly to the top of her head. “I spent five years sleeping without you, like hell that’s happening ever again if I have any say in the matter.”

She laughed against his shirt. “Love you.”

His arm tightened around her briefly, and she’d bet her favorite boots he was smiling. “Love you, too.”

Under the circumstances, Keme wasn’t really surprised when she started drifting off. She was, a little, in that muzzy, half-aware sense, that she didn’t fight it. The steady rhythm of her husband’s heart was an alluring lullaby, and the weight of his arm around her a silent promise it was safe to let her guard down.

So she did.

Her dreams were much more pleasant than she’d anticipated.

#queens fic #kementari rand #aric jorgan #keme/jorgan #otp: got your back #I LOVE THEM

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platypanthewriter · 5 years ago

Text

No Expectations

Just an idea that wouldn’t git, so I wrote it. Maybe it’ll leave me alone?

Steve’s eye caught on the new guy tending bar at Harvey’s, and he nearly broke his nose dropping the pint glass into his face. Billy Hargrove wasn’t the very last person he’d expected to run into trying to get another round, he thought—Hitler might might have been more surprising, or Ronald Reagan—but he stared all the same, until Billy looked up and grinned.

“Seen a ghost, Harrington?” he asked, and Steve felt like an idiot for wanting to nod—he knew Max’s brother had made it out of Starcourt Mall, and into intensive care, and then weeks of physical therapy—they’d all taken turns as moral support, helping her pick out awful presents.

Steve swallowed. “Max said you left. ‘Cause your dad’s an asshole.”

“Don’t forget monsters,” Billy grunted, pouring shots with a spin of his wrist, and sliding them across the counter to someone and her gang of friends. “Dunno why you all didn’t get the hell out of—”

“Why come back?!” Steve asked, not because he minded Hawkins, but because of the thick scars across Billy’s shirtless chest. He tried to remember what they’d talked about, the last time he’d taken Max, Lucas, and Dustin to sit around Billy’s bed, the day before he left.

Billy glanced at Steve’s face, then lowered his eyes to the glass he was drying. “Max needs a roommate while she gets her degree, so I’m back.”

“Oh,” Steve nodded, spinning his empty beer glass against the counter. Billy’d laughed, startling both of them, when Steve had helped him get to the bathroom, and he’d nearly fallen. He’d been heavy—and warm, from his blankets, Steve remembered—and Steve had grabbed him with both arms, asking whether he was okay. Billy had started laughing into his shoulder, muttering “shit, shit, sorry, shit,” the whole way down the hall, and left the next morning. “You didn’t say anything,” Steve told his glass, and wished he hadn’t, because it sounded childish once it was out of his mouth.

Billy paused in his plucking of mint leaves to look up. “...what did you—”

“Nothing,” Steve cut him off, looking at the boy who’d shoved him around, hit him with a plate, and nearly died trying to save Eleven. “Nothing.” He stood up to pull his coat back on, and Billy half-fell across the counter, knocking over the ketchup and pepper shaker to grab Steve’s glass.

“On the house,” he said, running to the taps, and Steve opened his mouth to tell him what he’d been drinking, then let him fill it with Bud Lite. “On the house,” Billy repeated, running back to smack it down in front of Steve, so the suds lapped over the edge. “Sorry,” he panted, grabbing it back and wiping the glass. “Here.”

“...okay,” Steve bit his lip, but sat back down, and whover was next to him slammed a fist on the counter, yelling. Billy got them drinks while Steve contemplated his free beer.

He was a third through it by the time Billy stopped in front of him again. “...so,” he said, and Steve snorted.

“You got something to say?” he volleyed back, and Billy laughed, shaking his head.

“Guess I’ll see you around,” he said, flashing a smile.

Steve tipped his head back and drained the glass, and a shot glass slid out of Billy’s hand and clattered to the floor. Steve stood on the side bars of the stool to lean over the bar, watching Billy scramble around with an arm under the cupboards. “...maybe you should learn to bartend,” he suggested, and Billy flipped him off.

“Order a real drink, Harrington—”

“Have to be up early,” Steve told him, grinning down. “Bet you get to sleep in.”

“You wanna know?” Billy pushed himself up, his back and shoulders flexing, and Steve swallowed. Billy brushed off his jeans. “I’m off in two hours,” he said. “If you…”

“What?” Steve asked, feeling strangled.

“If you want to catch up,” Billy said, shrugging, and Steve blinked.

“Um, you’ve been—Max probably told you everything.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Billy shrugged, backing away, and Steve smacked his hands on the counter.

“No, wait, yeah, let’s—let’s catch up!” he said, too loud, and Billy laughed.

That night he sucked Steve off in the parking lot, against his station wagon, and Steve garbled “Holy shit,” and “What the hell” and “You’re so good at this” into a stream of gibberish, sinking to land on his butt on the gravel.

“...some kinda catching up,” Steve panted, his knees on either side of Billy’s.

“Mmn,” Billy leaned in, heavy against Steve’s chest, kissing up the side of his neck.

“Your place or mine?” Steve whispered, and Billy stilled, then laughed.

“Can’t get enough of me?” he asked, and Steve snorted.

The next morning, Steve got dressed, brushed his teeth, and then crawled back over the covers, kissing Billy’s shoulder and the side of his head as he laughed, curling deeper into the blankets. “You haveta work today?” Steve whispered, and Billy rolled to blink up at him.

“Mmpf?” Billy asked, squinting up. “...why?”

“I’ll be done in an hour or two,” Steve told him, letting his thumb rasp against Billy’s stubble. “Want me to bring back some food?”

Billy stared up at him for a second, then nodded. “If you want to come back here.”

“Do you have to work?” Steve asked again. “I can make myself scarce.”

“Nah, I can go again,” Billy propped himself up on his elbows. “Kick me awake later.”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve rolled his eyes, and leaned in for a kiss Billy dodged.

“Morning breath, asshole,” Billy whispered. “Hey.”

“Mmn?” Steve asked, standing on one leg to tie his shoes.

“Wait, dickbird, tell me you love me, if we’re gonna play house.”

Steve leaned on the bed again to shove his blanketed bulk, but leaned in to smack a kiss on Billy’s head. “See you later, babe, love you, g’bye,” he said dryly, and Billy rolled away, groaning into his pillow.

When he showed up later, Billy was sitting on the arm of the couch, peeling the label off a beer bottle at eleven am. “Didn’t know whether to lube up or set out the candles and tablecloth,” he said, laughing, and Steve walked around for another kiss.

“Honey, I’m home,” he told Billy, who pressed up against him, wrapping a leg around Steve’s butt. “Daydrinking without me?”

“Welcome back,” Billy whispered, grabbing Steve around the shoulders and falling back onto the couch, so they landed in a pile of limbs. “Thought maybe you stood me up.”

“In sickness and in health, right,” Steve said against the skin of Billy’s throat, and Billy grabbed him tighter.

“You’re so goddamn weird,” Billy laughed. “How long you gonna play house with the town fag?”

“What?” Steve stopped mid kiss, breathing against the buzz of Billy’s voice in his throat.

“No, nevermind,” Billy snorted. “I’ll get it when you stop returning my calls, right.”

Steve pushed himself up, doing a pushup to stare down at Billy Hargrove’s grinning face. “What? You—”

“Ssh,” Billy pulled him down again, and in the ensuing kisses, Steve forgot what he’d wanted to say.

Every so often Billy’d ask again—“How long’re we gonna play house, Harrington?” and Steve would stop to ask what that even meant, and Billy would distract him again, and demand flowers, chocolates, or a welcome-home kiss.

He didn’t even seem to know what to do with flowers, Steve realized—he just stood staring at them, until Steve rescued them back, cut off the ends, and filled the blender with water as the closest thing to a vase. For Valentine’s Day, he brought over the biggest, pinkest, sparkliest heart-shaped box he could find, and licked melted chocolate off Billy’s abs, thighs, and eventually, everywhere else. The next day, he replaced the sheets.

When Steve sped over from work and walked in on lit candles, covered dishes, and Billy pulling garlic bread out of the oven, Billy said, “Five month anniversary, right?”

Steve tried to remember what day it even was, kicking his shoes off, and Billy laughed, backing away.

“Just playing,” he said quickly. “Just playing house.”

“I like playing house,” Steve told him, sliding in his socks across the linoleum to kiss Billy’s neck where he was bent, frowning into the tinfoil. “Need to talk to you about that.”

“...thought you might,” Billy said, stopping his inspection to clench his fists against the edge of the counter. “What?”

“Kinda silly, us both having houses,” Steve said, the way he’d practiced in the mirror. He slid a hand under Billy’s shirt, stroking his thumb over Billy’s taut muscles. He felt a scar, and grabbed Billy’s hips to turn him, suddenly needing to get his face under Billy’s shirt and kiss his skin.

“What—what are you saying,” Billy asked hoarsely.

“Don’t like it when you’re not there at night,” Steve told him, looking up from where he knelt on the floor. “I roll over and there’s this cold space where you aren’t.”

“Holy shit,” Billy said, and he started laughing, but his eyes went all red and shiny, so Steve didn’t mind.

“I have a garage,” Steve said persuasively, and Billy snorted, coughing.

“That’s your offer? A garage.”

“You could wash your Camaro and the rain wouldn’t ruin the wax,” Steve tried. “And there’s no stairs. I know you hate hauling groceries up here.”

Billy just kept snickering, leaning back against the counter, and Steve bit his lip.

“Or if you like it better here,” he surrendered, and Billy laughed harder, sinking down to the floor. Steve wasn’t that attached to his house, he thought. “I would do all the dishes,” he offered, and Billy tilted to lean against him, burying his face in Steve’s neck.

“You’re bargaining with me,” he whispered, and Steve shrugged, beginning to wish he hadn’t said anything.

“You can just tell me where to shove it,” Steve forced a laugh, and it came out sharp. “We can eat.”

“I get to sleep in your bed, though, right,” Billy whispered, sniffling. “Not the garage.”

“What the hell,” Steve whispered back. “Don’t make me bite you.”

“Go ahead,” Billy laughed. “I’m yours.”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” Steve told him, yanking them both to their feet, so he could slap the keys he’d made into Billy’s hand. “You want to, right?”

Billy nodded, standing there in the kitchen, holding the keys out and staring down through them. “I—I want to. I want to. Are—are you sure you…”

“What?!” Steve asked, assessing the bread—it looked fine—and sliding it onto the prepared plate.

“This—this is what you want?!” Billy asked, probably waving at himself like an asshole, and Steve kept his eyes on the precarious stack of bread, spinning to kick Billy lightly in the shin.

“Stop sounding like you’re the discount version of something,” Steve told him, sticking his tongue between his teeth as he bore the bread out to the table. “Yeah, I want to fucking play house, come play house with me. Forever.”

“That sounds kind of ominous,” Billy said, his voice shaky.

“Gonna play the hell out of this house,” Steve muttered, and Billy started laughing again, leaning against his shoulder.

“Feed me bread,” he commanded, and Steve shoved him, but pulled him back again after grabbing a slice. “Honey. Babe. Lover,” Billy whispered, and Steve shoved the bread in his mouth, feeling his face heat.

“Hurry up and eat, sweetums,” he whispered back, and Billy choked, coughing.

The first morning Steve awoke to sharing a house with Billy Hargrove, he was gone from the bed, and Steve stomped petulantly down to find him naked, in an apron, making breakfast.

He laughed until he cried.

#Harringrove #Canon divergent #platypan #Billy survived #And now it's a few years later #They meet again #Billy thinks it's a one night stand #Steve has a date! <3!#platypan fic

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my-fanfic-library · 5 years ago

Text

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [19]

Masterlist

~^*^~

You stretched out your body as the sleep slowly began to ebb away and become replaced with full consciousness. As you did, a tingle of pleasure ran down your spine and you mewled. Not feeling fully satisfied, you stretched out once more and made yet another noise of pleasure at the sensation.

“Darling, I assure you that if you continue to make such suggestive sounds, there will be hell to pay.” Dracula warned stoically, his eyes shifting back to his kindle.

“I can’t help it,” you softly whined, rolling over to face him, “it feels so nice to stretch, don’t you agree?”

“I shall agree that it feels good to watch you stretch, but that’s as far as I’ll go.” He smirked at you.

“I’m never stretching again.” You grumbled and turned away from him.

“[First],” he chuckled and extended his hand to grasp your chin and turn your face towards him, “don’t ever change.” With the softest smile, he pecked your cheek.

It was crazy how the most domestic things made you feel so fluttery on the inside. You couldn’t help the smile that broke out on your face and you completely rolled back over, wrapping your arm snugly around his waist. He hummed. He pressed a second kiss to the top of your head. The surreality of the moment dawned on you and you smiled, burying yourself deeper into him. Home had never felt so close.

You thought back three days, after your fight with Dracula and the very positive consequences of that. You had practically ran home, and fled up the stairs to begin to throw your clothes into a suitcase. Jack had rushed up after you and once he saw the smile on your face, he knew his most dreaded nightmare had become a reality. Dracula had returned and he was stealing you away.

“Where are you going?” He had asked, chocking back his emotions.

“We,” you began, “are going back to London.”

“I don’t want to go back to London.” He deadpanned. You froze and turned to look at him, “he’s here isnt he?”

“Don’t be like that, Jack.” You sighed, smile fading, “we don’t belong here.” Your avoidance of the question hit him in the chest. Dracula was here and he had managed to convince you to go.

“Yes we do. We always have done. We made a life here, [First], please don’t throw it away for him.”

“...I’m not doing it for anyone else but myself.” You lied.

“Well you can go. But I’m staying here.”

“Jack, please don’t do this. Don’t make me pick.”

“Why should I be fair to you if you’re going to run back to him the moment he comes back? Did he fake his own death? He hurt you like that and you’ll go back to him?”

“Yes.” You narrowed your eyes

“Why?”

“Because I love him.”

Dracula’s voice calling your name brought you back to where you were - in bed, snuggled up against him like he was the warmest thing in the world, even though you were beginning to seriously grow cold.

“What are you thinking about?” He inquired.

“You.” You whispered dreamily. He laughed.

“You truly are the sweetest thing.” Another kiss, “when the time is right, I will have the most fun ruining you.” His voice grew darker and you slapped his chest as a scolding.

“That’s no way to speak to a lady!”

“You’re right, I’m very sorry, Lady [Last].”

Your laughter was cut short by the knocking of the front door. It echoed through the apartment until it met your ears and you mumbled to him to leave it. He evidently couldn’t leave it, and began tugging himself away from your grasp.

When he was finally standing, he tugged the duvet up (which already had much nicer black cotton sheets)and cocooned you in.

“Keep yourself warm for me, my lady. I’ll only be a moment.”

Your heart faltered. Dracula, smiling to himself left the room and shut the door. He felt like he had finally been granted access to heaven after so very long. 524 years and he finally had a taste of euphoria. Who would’ve thought it was you?

He loved the way the sunlight streamed in. He loved the vibrancy it brought with it. He loved the way that it would cast a halo over you when you sat with him in the morning, back to the window as you let your back warm up by the heat. He truly felt like the richest man in the world.

Moving towards the door, he didn’t bother pushing his smile back. Why should he?

He was genuinely shocked when he pulled back the door and saw the person waiting for him. He hadn’t changed much except for his skin becoming a little leathery and losing its colour, and of course, his eyes taking on a red kind of hue as they always did what What Dracula called the ‘newborns’.

“Good morning, Renfield, can I help you?”

“Actually, Count Dracula, I came to thank you.”

“To thank me?”

“Yes, you have blessed me- may I?” He pushed past the taller male, entering the apartment.

“Not really...” Dracula’s hands rose up to shoulder leval, as if in question and then fell. He felt a little unnerved, “so, um, how long have you been... like that?” There was a sudden intensity to Renfield that he didn’t like. Newborns had a disgusting thirst to blood that drove most to a deathly insanity. He had somehow managed to make it past that point.

“Oh,” Renfield turned to face him, “quite a while now. Aren’t you proud of yourself? You finally perfected your technique.”

“Well,” he began with an amused scoff, “you caught me at a bad time.”

“My apologies-...” he trailed off, “were you about to eat?” Shit. Could he smell you?

“Oh, no-“

“Could I join you?”

“No, Renfield I’m not eating.”

Fuck.

“My god, where are they? I have never smelt anything so succulent. So sweet...”

“Renfield, I think you need to leave.” Dracula warned darkly.

In the bedroom, you had grown tired of lying about and had sat up and was flipping though the pages of Dracula’s novel on his kindle. He’d probably be upset for you losing his page, but he was a 524 year old man, he should have an immaculate memory by now.

But as you began to delve in 3/5s into the book, you heard a sound. It was barely above a whisper. You thought nothing of it and went back. The sound came again a little louder - but still uncipherable. You shook it off. A third time.

‘Bloofer...’

You looked around the room. Nothing. There was nothing. You were being silly.

‘Bloofer lady...’

Heart beginning to race, you pulled your legs up and out of the duvet, getting ready to rush out of the room. That was when the wardrobe doors blew open and there she stood, between his stream-ironed suits in her burnt glory. You screamed and without thinking, launched the kindle in her direction. Upon contact, she was gone.

Shaking, you clambered off of the bed and made your way towards the wardrobe. You plucked the kindle up and noticed a gash down the centre. Oops.

You didn’t know if Dracula had shooed away whatever company was at he door, but you decided to venture out anyway. You had to confess before he found the broken kindle himself. He was going to be so mad... You tugged open the door.

“Hey, Drac, there was kinda an accident...” you trailed off upon seeing Renfield standing a little away from you. Dracula was further down the room, now fully glaring at the lawyer, “oh, sorry.”

“Oh my goodness. She smells even better so close.” Renfield purred.

“Get out.” Dracula demanded.

“What? And let you enjoy a delicacy all to yourself? I have respect for you, Dracula, but I’m not stupid.”

“She’s not anyone’s meal. I am warning you to leave while you still have your head attached to your body.”

“Gosh, you do make a good pair. Both of you enjoy to threaten my head.”

Dracula sent you a questioning look, and you sent one back that seemed to read ‘I’ll tell you later’. During your distraction, Renfield took a step towards you and when you realised, you took a quick step backwards. Dracula took two long strides forwards.

“Don’t you dare touch her.” He warned, his voice dangerously low. His eyes had darkened to almost black and you knew that he was nothing short of livid.

“I only want a taste, Dracula.” Renfield started.

“She’s not yours.”

“Since when did you claim her?”

Renfield made a break for you. Dracula didn’t hesistate to sprint forward and you realised that you had never truly seen him as a predator. Renfield managed to get to you and his hands gripped onto your t-shirt. His teeth were bared and his eyes were almost glowing. He was on your for a second before Dracula had smashed into him and knocked him away. The force of his arms being removed from you sent you flying backwards in the bedroom. You scrambled up and rushed out to see Dracula and Renfield in a death lock, throwing punches onto one another as both tried to get back up whilst simultaneously keeping the other down.

Dracula managed to push Renfield down and kick his head to keep him down for just a moment.

“Run, [First]!” He barked at you.

You dashed out of the bedroom, ignoring the whining pain in your back. So close to the door, you were pulled back and pulled up into the air by a pair of unfamiliar arms. You screamed and began to thrash in his arms.

Time slowed for Dracula and he had a split second to make a decision. In order to get you out of Renfield’s grip, he was going to have to risk hurting you. He’d rather hurt you himself than let any fatal harm come to you. He sprinted towards you and grasped Renfield. He yanked at his neck, trying to get him to have no choice but to let you go. It was no use.

So, he swung out his leg and as it collided with Renfield’s knee, he heard the splintering crack of bone. Renfield dropped to the floor, screaming in agony but refused to let you out of his talons.

“LET HER GO!” Dracula began blow after blow of his elbow on Renfield’s face. His nose cracked and began to gush blood. His lips split in several places and he had no choice but to finally let you go.

You rolled from his grasp, pushing yourself away from the floor. Your eyes were glued on Dracula, who was completely gone with his rage. The anger on his face, the power of his hits, this was the force of his jealousy and this was how far he would go to protect you. You had to be honest - it kind of turned you on.

The fight did not end, however, as Renfield climbed up Dracula’s size and began to force him backwards. He drove Dracula’s back into the table and you saw the sudden mahogany coloured blood soaking the back of his shirt. Again and again, Renfield impales Dracula’s back on the corner of the table until Dracula could take no more. He, with all of his strength, pulled Renfield up and over his head, behind him, smashing his back down onto the table. It cracked and splintered and some pieces of marble flew out in all directions. He then grasped Renfield by the collar of his coat and dragged him towards one of the doors. It swung behind him and you could hear another scramble.

You somehow managed to get up and rush into the next room. The living room. On the right hand side of the room, Dracula was kicking Renfield back as he opened the doors to the balcony.

The commotion ended when Dracula plucked up Renfield and tossed his body over the balcony. He turned to you, aggressively panting.

“Are you alright?” He spoke between deep breaths.

“You should be worried about yourself, look at you.” You spoke gently.

He limped towards you and pulled you into him before he began to crumble to the floor. You sunk on your knees with him, cradling his head to your chest so that he could hear your heart.

“Darling, don’t be scared anymore.”

“I’m worried about you, Drac.” You whispered.

~^*^~

It took ten minutes to get him back into the bedroom and a further ten to convince him to take his shirt off and lie down on his stomach on the bed. He was being stubborn, and you had to keep trying your hardest to convince him to help himself.

When he was finally compliant with you, you straddled his thighs, looking at the deep gashes on his back. Six in total. You ran your fingers through his hair and he looked back at you.

“I’m fine, really-“

“No you aren’t. Now tell me again how I fix them.”

“Just... why don’t you let me do it?” He began to turn, but you grabbed hold of his shoulders and forced him back down into the pillows.

“No. I’m doing it. You won’t reach them all. Tell me.”

“Pinch the skin and twist.” His irked voice was muffled as he spoke to you.

“See? Easy. It won’t hurt will it?”

“Not much.”

“Stupid question, [First], the man’s been shot and not even flinched.” You mumbled to yourself.

“It’s endearing.” He craned his neck to look back at you once more, “you’re like a wonderful, loving wife.”

“Yeah, shut up and face down.”

“Oh, how did you ever find out I like to be bossed around whilst in bed like this.”

“I swear to the lord almighty I will leave you here and never come back.” You pouted.

“Liar. You’d never leave me.”

He was right. You could never leave him. Not after leaving your newfound life to be with him. He meant everything to you. But he didn’t need to know that. So, without warning, you began to close up his wounds. The first one made him hiss a little, and to soothe his pain, you leaned down and pressed your lips to the newly conjoined skin to let the sting sizzle away.

With every one that you closed, you left a kiss to help with the pain. Once you had done them all, you trailed your hands up and down his sides, pressing kisses higher up his back. He sighed, allowing your warmth that was spreading through him like wildfire. Your kisses ignited his skin and he had never felt this alive or this loved in... well forever. Now it was you hovering above him. He turned his head to look at you and you were inches above his face.

Another kiss you pressed to his shoulder and sent your hands down his sides once more. His skin tingled with your touch. He was in paradise. He loved the feeling of being consumed by you.

“Do you feel better now, love?”

“Love?” He repeated.

“Yes, my love,” your wicked eyes burned into his. Oh, heavens, you were driving him insane, “how do you feel?”

“... like I could fly.”

You softly chuckled and pressed another kiss on his shoulder, just next to the one that you had just planted. He was clinging on to every one of your movements. He anticipated every touch. When your hands ran back up, they ran along his arms and you threaded your fingers through his as you leaned to his nape and pressed a kiss.

He was in utter bliss.

“I can’t believe you did that for me.” You uttered against his skin.

“I’d do anything for you.”

He suddenly felt much better and had within a second, flipped himself around underneath you, sat up and wrapped his arms around you so that you were firmly on his lap, legs wrapped around his waist. You were so close. Your hands had instinctively pressed against his firm chest.

“Anything?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“Anything and anything.”

“Would you bring me the moon if I asked?” You giggled at the stupidity and the entire cliche of your question.

“And the stars to go with it.” He promised.

“Would you take me anywhere I wanted to go?”

“I’d carry you there if it was the only way.”

“Would you make me live forever?” Your voice was soft.

“...no... I wouldn’t do that.” He confessed, feeling a little guilty for having to say no to you.

“Why not?” There was the tiniest hint of hurt in your voice. Almost undetectable but when you had 500 years to master reading people, Dracula had become too good at it.

“I wouldn’t curse you with it. You are too good, you are too perfect to be tarnished by undeath.” He placed his forehead on yours. His eyes fluttered shut and he breathed in your scent. He focused on your warmth around him.

“Would you rather see me die?”

“I want to give you the best life so that you don’t regret or feel afraid to die, my sweetest, my loveliest, my angelic darling.” It was his turn to begin to press kisses to your neck.

Your throat began to burn with the kisses he left behind.

“I will give you everything. I will fulfil every desire. I will satisfy all of your thirsts.” He vowed to you, “your wish shall be my command and I will submit myself to you. So simply give me your warmth and your love, my darling.”

“Okay.” You whispered.

His kisses were working down your skin and you were thankful that you had chosen a little lower cut than usual shirt to sleep in. His lips worked on the skin of your chest, but the material that covered to just a little above where your heart was stopped him from going any further.

He pulled you into him, resting his head on your breast, listening to the steady beat of your heart. It made him feel normal. It made him feel like he wasn’t a monster after all.

You made him feel alive and he only hoped that you wouldn’t ever leave him. He think he truly would die of heartbreak if you did. The thought made him tug you tighter to him and without realising, the movement caused some friction where he hadn’t anticipated. You sucked in a breath, not wanting to draw any attention but your heart gave you away like usual. Your hands made their way to his hair.

“We can’t.” He whispered, “it would kill you.”

“That’s how I want to go.” You joked in an airy breath.

“Absolutely not.”

“Not even a little? Can’t you relive me?” You tugged his head back so that he could see the bees flooding your eyes. Jesus, he had forgotten about how intense desire could become. This was something he’d need to keep in check.

“Not today, my darling. Behave yourself and maybe we can come to some arrangement.”

“Don’t leave me waiting too long or else I may have to go looking for trouble.” You pressed a kiss to his jawline and he purposely pulled your hips down.

“What did I just say?”

You laughed.

~^taglist^~

@vampiregirl1797 @avalanet @bunnyreese12 @nerdonpluto @teamceleries @grifffins @hitbythunder @winterseoul @mymagicsuitcase @angeli-fucking-cat @benedictethegoddess @bloodhon3yx @nifflersravenclaw @writteninthestars288 @labelladrama @frankcastlesgrunts @angelicdestieldemon @quakerlasss @aliisa-jones @wolverinexmenn @clairedragonessbaker @cryiner @mitsukatsu @piratewhore @your-pixels-are-showing @tardisnesss @ladydovahkiin180 @catwomom @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes @th3rah @viper-queen @mephdcosplay @greghouse7 @faeprinces @kokoro-no-yami @trishaferdream @therealmoni @crazytxgradstudent @sansthelonelypunster @crowley-needs-a-hug @girlonfireice @wasntpriscilla @ivanna6026

#:)#dracula #bbc dracula #netlfix dracula #dracula x reader #bbc dracula x reader #netflix dracula x reader #claes bang #dolly wells #something different

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ditch-witches · 5 years ago

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Farmer’s Daughter (Dean-Charles Chapman x reader)

I always say this, but @iongaa‘s work is so beautiful. Our account would not be the same without her.

Another big thank you for the beautiful breaker to @notwhimsical, welcome to Tumblr.

requested: yes/no (who ever requested this, bless your soul. this was kinda close to home. sorry it end up a bit different, but i hope it’s still enjoyable)

pairing: farmboy!Dean-Charles Chapman

warnings: honestly I can't think of any, sorry :(

word count: 2,821

a/n: Now accepting farm!Dean memes.

The summer sun beamed overhead as you kicked your feet up against the railing of your back porch, rocking yourself back and forth. Your eyes drifted shut in content, listening to the hum of the cicadas in the trees around you. You smiled to yourself as you heard the car belonging to your friend pull into your long looping driveway. She practically jumped from the vehicle, grabbing her shoes from the passenger side, sprinting up your sidewalk. You smiled and handed her a lemonade as she settled into the chair beside you.

"Did I miss it?" She asked, out of breath and flustered as she sank against the wood.

You shook your head, "Right on time actually." You gestured to the driveway as two pickup trucks took the same path she just had, pulling towards the barns in the back instead of up to the house. Your dad had been hiring men to farm his land with him every summer for the past few years, one of the only things about living out in the middle of nowhere that you enjoyed. They had become entertainment on days like today when there was nothing on the tv and you didn't feel like driving into town. You and your friend had been waiting for the turn of the season all year, giddy with excitement as the day had finally come.

The trucks began to empty, boys fresh from college needing cash for the summer and retired men who actually knew what they were doing were in full view of the two of you, perched on your back porch. You looked over the brim of your sunglasses at a boy with dark hair and a wide smile. He was nearly roughhousing with another that looked around your age. They settled down after one of the older men barked at them, the boy now taking the time to look over your estate. His blue eyes shined curiously before turning to fall on you, a small smirk gracing his lips. You chuckled, grabbing the magazine on the table beside you. "Damn, that one's a looker," your friend nearly growled beside you. You smiled a bit wider, your eyes drifting up from the pages back to the boy who sent you a wink before turning back to the tasks he was given.

"Which one?" You sighed, your sights lingering on him for just a bit longer.

Your friend giggled. "The one that was checking me out, silly!" You bit back a laugh, sinking into your rocking chair more, attempting to look disinterested. As attractive as most of the farmhands were, you have never let yourself date one, figuring it would be too distracting to have a summer fling, knowing you would get too attached. That and you had never truly given any of them the time of day. You stole another glance at the boy as he began to move bales of hay under the careful watch of one of the elders. "God, I would let him drag me up and down the lot," she groaned, making you laugh.

"Have you no mercy?" You joked.

Your giggles were cut short as the screen door slammed open, revealing your mother in her apron. "What do you girls think you're doing! Out here, bare-legged, in front of all those men! Get inside!" You laughed harder as she practically yanked the two of you indoors.

The next day, your mother made a fresh batch of sweet tea as she scolded you about covering up. You rolled your eyes with a small grin, not giving her much mind as you peaked out the window, seeing the boys hard at work again. She poured a few glasses and shooed you out the door to go apologize to the men for your inconsiderate behavior after she had approved of your outfit. You fought not to snicker at the situation as you walked up to the workers, a few of the elders that had worked the land before smiled at you, tipping their straw hats in your direction. "What can I do for you, ma'am?" One asked, making a few of the men turn up from their work.

The boy from the day before brightened at you, leaning against his hoe. You chewed the inside of your cheek. "I am here to apologize for my appearance yesterday," you sarcastically spoke, knowing full well that most of them hadn't even seen your shorts and the situation was trivial. Some of the men laugh, going for the glasses of tea you were balancing on a tray. "I'm sorry, it will not happen again."

"What a shame," one joked. He had gone to high school with your older brother and after recognizing him you attempted to trip him, leaving him giggling.

"I see you have some new kids this year?" You more asked than stated to the elder from earlier, hugging the tray to your chest and eyeballing the boy with blue eyes as he went back to work. Those famous eyes flashed up to you again, making you blush and look back at the elder.

"Yep. Don't know why all the boys want to work your old man's fields," he jested and you smirked.

"Maybe it's the pay," you poked back and the man chuckled. Your mother called you back inside and you sighed. "If you guys need anything else, she's ready," you quipped, gesturing to the women with her head out the window, yelling at you. The old man chuckled and you turned towards the house, looking over your shoulder at the boy once more, who sent you a sweet smile, making your heart flutter.

It was almost a routine for a few weeks, stealing small flirty gestures with the boy while your friend fawned over him or your mother having you take something out to the workers. You would have felt like a bother if it hadn't been for the smile and the brightness in his blue eyes that seemed to be reserved just for you. On their break days, your father allowed the boys to swim and fish in the pond on one part of your land. The truth was, your mother loved having the boys around as well, which is why they were allowed to do so. She had always wanted another son and it was always prevalent when a worker would ask for water, making her fawn over him like he was a stray puppy when, in reality, he would be a few years older than yourself.

"I've gotta talk to him, I'm going stir crazy," your friend muttered, fanning herself. It was the hottest part of the day. The wind had seemed to move two counties over, leaving your farm in the dead, dry heat. The boys were at the pond today because of said rising temperature.

You smiled slightly, shaking your head. "Why don't you?" Your heart fluttered as your thoughts flashed to his smile. Maybe if she implanted herself in his life, you'd finally get over your summer fling fantasies your mind plagued you with whenever he was around.

"I wouldn't even know where to begin," she sighed.

"You could give him your number?" Your blood boiled for a second with jealousy, a small flicker of hope that she would let him be.

She scoffed. "And risk my mother picking up the phone! No way." She chewed on her bottom lip. "I mean, I guess it's a risk well worth it right? Hell, you've seen him." She pulled a stick of gum from her purse, offering it to you and you rolled your eyes, taking the sugary confection and handing her back the wrapper, your stomach in knots as she scribbled the sequence of digits and folded it once. "Would you be a dear?"

It was your turn to scoff. "You think he's gonna bite you?"

"I can only hope," she leered, flashing you a devilish smirk. "Come on. You're his boss technically. He'll have to take it from you."

"Don't be a coward," you snapped, standing and pulling her with you. She whined, following after you as the two of you trudged towards the pond at the end of one of the fields, hidden from bypassers by a few overly grown trees. You shoved your hands in your pockets as you neared the water, the laughter and splashing of the boys growing louder. You popped your gum, slightly nervous as you came upon the group. Your friend froze in her place, shoving the paper in your hand and stepping back. You rolled your eyes. "Chicken shit," you hissed as a few of the boys caught sight of you, whistling slightly. You continued walking forward, smiling at the few you recognized.

The blue-eyed boy stood up from his seat, pulling on his white t-shirt as some of the boys followed his manners, resting a hand on one of the giant trees providing shade for a few of the boys. Some of them whistled slightly as you walked right up to the boy who crossed his arms and smirked down at you. You smiled slightly, your cheeks growing hot as you finally realized how much taller he was. His wet hair was growing curlier with the heat, his eyes still brilliant and bright at the sight of you. He furrowed his brows slightly as you handed him the wrapper, his rough fingers brushing against yours. "My friend's got her eye on you but," you sighed as he looked up at you through his long eyelashes, "she's too scared to come and talk to you herself," you called a bit louder so she could hear from where she was standing.

His grin grew a bit and he ran a hand through his dark hair. God, he was attractive. Your mouth grew dry. "Your friend huh?" He smugly looked over your shoulder, giving her a small wave. Your eyebrows raised at his accent as you fully realized you had never actually heard him speak before now. "And here I was thinking you were finally taking my line," he almost whispered to you slyly. You were glad the boys had lost interest and gone about their own business.

Your mouth opened slightly, fighting a smile. "Mister, I am merely the messenger." He smelled like the summer air on a good day.

He took the meat of his bottom lip between his teeth and you almost stuttered. What you wouldn't give to taste those lips. He pulled a jacket off the ground, digging into one of the pockets for a pen, pulling the lid off with his teeth. "Well, ma'am," he took your hand in his, the sensation of his skin against yours leaving you silent as he began to write something on your palm, "tell your friend that it'd probably be smarter for her to call me when she has the opportunity. Or just keep it for yourself. I like the chase, love," he jeered, sending you another smirk as you rolled your eyes with a blush. He blew on the ink, making goosebumps litter your body. What was he doing to you?

You cleared your throat, removing your hand from him reluctantly. "I'll see you around," you paused, looking down at the writing on your palm, "Dean." He smiled at you softly, waving to your friend once more as you turned to walk back towards her. You turned back slightly and gestured mildly to his palm. After your friend had taken down his number and left for the day, you lied awake as your stomach flipped at the thought of Dean, looking at your hand where his writing had once been. That boy was going to be too much for your own good, you decided.

You let a week draw by, hoping your friend and Dean would finally kick off so he would get out of your head. Despite attempting to dodge the boy as much as possible, you found yourself thinking about him during your free time, slowly driving yourself mad to catch a glimpse of him. You often wondered what it would have been like if you hadn't washed his number off your hand. Saturday had rolled around quicker than you had expected. Your friend had come over to hang out with you, a lazy grin on her face when you asked about him. "Oh god no. That didn't work out. That man's smitten with you," she uttered, putting her glasses back on her head as she closed her eyes and tilted her face towards the sun.

At her words, you stood up from your chair and took off for the pond, nearly knocking your friend out of her own chair as she called after you. You weren't sure what you were trying to accomplish, but the sun was beginning to set and you were hoping the boys hadn't left yet, at least the boy you were looking for. The guys were packing up as you got there and you scanned the group of them, catching the attention of one you recognized. "Where's Dean?" You asked, realizing just how out of breath you were.

He chuckled. "Finally, damn. He's in the stables. Took up a few extra hours." He gestured behind him as he spoke and you rushed to thank him.

The stables were quiet for the most part, the lulling of a country song from a radio the only sign of life. You took a deep breath, attempting to calm yourself as you stood in the entry of the stables, most of the stalls empty, but you spotted Dean at the end of the barn, raking hay. You twisted your hands together nervously as your shoes carried you mindlessly to him. Dean looked over his shoulder at the noise and as he caught sight of you, stood up straighter, leaning on his rake as he had earlier in the summer. His tired eyes softened as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "You never called," he said, his voice heavy and exhausted.

You nodded slowly. "I'm kind of a handful," you answered, your heart fluttering as he smiled slightly.

"Me too," he threw back jokingly. He settled the rake against one of the walls, pulling his work gloves off and shoving them in his back pocket as he walked towards you. Your toes almost touched and you breathed deeply, wanting so badly to be wrapped in his arms. "You're probably bad for me anyway," he jested. As he swallowed, you watched his neck move, the sweat from work still glistening in the hot summer night. His dirty white shirt seemed to be calling for your touch.

You pressed your hands against his abdomen and he reached a hand up to brush his thumb against your cheek gently. You loved the coarseness of the pad of his thumb against your skin and your mind raced at his body beneath his shirt as you ran your hands up his chest. "I'm no good for you," you confirmed, glancing at his soft lips and his eyes. It was in the dim light of the stable that you realized the tint of pink on cheeks: the slightest bit of a sunburn. It made him seem almost younger. Your hands spread to his arms, pulling both of his hands up to your neck, wanting him to pull you closer. He smirked, stepping towards you, his lips ghosting against yours. Despite working in the stables, he still smelled like worn leather and sawdust. "Kiss me, Dean," you whispered and he obliged, pressing his lips against yours softly, a feather of affection for you almost mimicking his sweet smile as you offered him a glass of tea under the heat of the sun. He tasted like spearmint gum and sweat with a hint of something else.

You deepened the kiss, wanting to explore more of him and know him in this moment. During this kiss, you weren't kids who had been chasing each other for a month, finally getting the satisfaction of being in one another's presence. You were two people finally united from a past life, two sailors found after being lost at sea for ten years, two pilgrims meeting in a Shakespearean novel. As he sighed against your lips, his breath surrounded you, his hands dropping to your hips and pulling you closer to him. Your lips danced against his, never wanting to break from the man for as long as you lived as your fingers found their way into his curly hair. He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours before wrapping his arms around you and digging his face in your hair. Your arms strung around his neck, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. "You should have called," he murmured and you chuckled.

"I've got all summer to call you," you quipped.

He chuckled, brushing hair out of your face. "I'll have to hold you to that, ma'am."

#dean charles chapman #dean charles chapman x reader #dean charles chapman imagine #dean charles chapman fluff #fluff #au #farmer #farm #farmboy #1917 imagines #1917 imagine #1917

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crystalsin · 4 years ago

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@sin-oftheuniverse said:

13. for our muses to have sex in front of a mirror (from @sin-oftheuniverse even though I haven't even *begun* setting up this blog, yet-)

[ Nsfw Kink ]

This was one hundred percent NOT her idea. In fact, Mica kinda hated it at first. When Steven first brought up the idea of standing in front of a mirror at all, she had turned it down flat. Mirrors were not her friends. They always reminded Mica of how much she looked like her mother. And how much she hated herself.

Then Steven started making her do those silly daily affirmation things; one hand on her waist, the other tilting her chin to look in the mirror, and telling her what to say: "I am gorgeous, stunning, and I know it!” The first day, she hadn’t been able to do it, instead just squirming in his arms and muttering until he let her turn around and burry herself into him. The second day: “I am beautiful, I am sexy, and I know it!" And she had reluctantly repeated after him; despite the fact that all it did was make her feel worse about herself. Even Mica’s therapist had suggested not doing it after a while because it was certainly not helping her.

So, Steven had a better idea. His hand grasped her waist again, and his other tilted her chin, and she was about to protest looking into the mirror, when he kissed her cheek, and told her: “You’re the woman I’m in love with.” And then let her go. And that was how it continued for months, months! Every day, shortly before bed, he’d make her stand in front of the mirror, and instead of making her say something kind about herself, he did. He’d compliment her smile, her eyes, her hair, her scent, her taste, her outfit, her smarts--any and everything was on the table for him to point out.

Today wasn’t any different, Mica had just gotten out of the shower, picked out an outfit for tomorrow, written down her usual three good things and dropped them in her jar, and had begun to twist up her hair for the night when he had grabbed her waist and gently dragged her back in front of the mirror.

“Steven--” Mica laughs, her curls falling in front of her face. “Come on, I just did my hair--I haven’t even wrapped it up yet-” She starts, but his hands both came to her waist this time. She blinks, mentally trying to catch up to what was happening, but his thumbs slipped under the t-shirt she wore for pajamas and hooked on her underwear. Mica’s knees almost buckled as he lowered them, his lips coming to the crook of her neck-- She lets out a small noise as he gently bites her skin.

“I love you, Mica,” He whispers as his hands travel back up her thighs, one continuing up to begin to massage her breasts, the other beginning to finger her as she grabbed onto his arms for stability; whines escaping her instantly.

And by the fifth week of this new routine, they got to this point; one of her hands on the mirror in front of her, her hair over her shoulder; Steven’s hands on her hips keeping her balanced and from keeling over. He slipped in and out of her with ease, though, all she could focus on was the way it looked in the mirror. The swaying of her hips, the way her legs spread, and the way his fingers dug into her skin (sure to leave tiny bruises that she’d relish over tomorrow), the way her lips part as noises she’s sure she can’t even begin to describe escape her, and of course, the way he fits so perfectly into her, against her, the way her skin looks next to his, the way they look together.

Her eyes trail up to his face, but are quickly drawn back to the space between her legs as he slams into her a bit harder than before, a sure sign that he’s close. She was pretty sure she’s already at three times, and he’s finished at least four, but fuck it, what’s one more?

“Steven-!” She manages to get out as he yanks her hips against his, and her fingers curl against the cool glass of the mirror. Her eyes adjusting a few moments, before looking again, seeing the white cum slip out of her and splatter on the ground as he pulls out. She blushes softly, leaning forward into the mirror as he gently rubs her hips, not letting go of her as he bends over her, kissing along her shoulders.

Yeah, this was not her idea. But she wasn’t so against it anymore.

#|| IC ANSWERED.#|| && SIN OFTHEUNIVERSE.#|| META.

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geekofmanyforms · 4 years ago

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New Beginning:Chapter Twenty

AN: Sorry for the long wait. I hope you guys like this update. I changed a lot, and plan to continue on that route. I will still go by episodes but will be putting a lot more of my own spin on them. I plan on skipping ahead a bit, but it won't be a time skip kinda thing. I promise it will make sense and go, pretty smoothly, I think. I am beyond ready for the Originals to get here! Also, I don't know if any of you are as excited as I am for the reveal of how El breaks her curse, but I have officially decided how she is going to be doing that. It's not exactly how I had originally planned for it to happen, but I had a dream a few weeks ago and just loved the whole idea. It's a bit sad; I think it may piss a few people off, but that's part of the appeal:) As always, please review and let me know what you think. Don't be a silent reader. I swear I don't bite! Also, this story has thirty some chapters on AO3 and Fanfiction.net. Edited by my Beta Casey.*

A steady buzzing pulled me from my fitful slumber. My neck ached as I rolled out of the tight ball I found myself wrapped up in. The muscles in my back burned, searing in protest as I sat up and stretched my body. An unhealthy popping sound made me wince as I moved my neck from side to side. I pulled my red hair from where it had become stuck to my cheek and was once again thankful that there was no one else here to witness the side of me that was more troll than human.

My phone buzzed incessantly again, and I glared dangerously at the little black machine that was responsible for my being awake at the ungodly hour of five a.m. Before I could even consider seeing who dared to wake me, I knew I needed to get out of yesterday's clothes and find some sort of caffeine.

I grabbed myself a change of clothes before slipping out of my room and tiptoeing to the bathroom. Once I was safely inside, I went about my business, allowing the hot water to rinse everything away. As I scrubbed at my skin, I imagined the water washing away the metaphorical stain on my soul, as well as the visible grime from the day before.

After my skin was sufficiently rubbed raw, I left the shower and dried my hair, weaving it into a loose, side french braid. Aside from the lotion I rubbed into my parched skin, I left my face natural and headed back into my room to grab my phone and purse. Shutting my door on the way out, I skipped over the squeaky step and stealthily made my way downstairs as I pulled out my phone to check who had tried to call. My head cocked to the side when I noticed I had an oddly large number of missed calls, all from Damon. What the hell did he want? Just as I was placing my finger over his name, there was a knock on the front door.

Dammit!

Jenna, Elena, and Jeremy were still sleeping, for God's sake! I quickly headed to the door and yanked it open, a few strands of hair blowing out around my face as it passed me by. Cerulean blue orbs and a familiar cocky smirk greeted me. I narrowed my eyes, grinding my teeth together. I could feel my cheeks warming and hated myself for it. Damon smiled wickedly and leaned against the door frame, one arm lifted above his head. His usual button-up shirt was absent today, instead he wore a long sleeve black t-shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His raven hair fell into his eyes as he moved closer to me. I bit my tongue, my traitorous fingers itched to brush the hair from his forehead. His smirk widened as if he could read my thoughts, and I stepped away from him, flexing my fingers, which only made him chuckle.

I hated his face. His stupid, cocky, yet oh so sexy face.

His right hand moved into view, and I noticed a large coffee cup. My whole body reacted to the sight. Every ounce of my annoyance bled away at the thought of getting the fix I needed. My face lifted into a grin, and my heart raced with joy.

"You bought me an iced frappe?" I squealed. "Those are my favorite!"

I grabbed the cup out of his hands and took a large, dramatic sip, moaning as the chilled espresso beverage satisfied my raging urge for caffeine. Caramel; he even got my favorite flavor.

"Wish I could say I bought it out of the kindness of my heart, but," Damon laughed mischievously. "It's a bribe."

I stepped outside, the cool morning air brushing over my skin, and goosebumps pebbled up my arms. I locked the door behind me, pulling my shirt sleeves down to cover my arms. "What do you want, Day?"

I took another sip of the caramel frappe and started down the porch steps. Damon followed beside me, his hands in his pockets.

"Well, it seems that your sister spent the night doing the naughty with my brother."

His face turned up for a moment, an unpleasant hateful expression marring his usually attractive face. Jealousy isn't a good look on Damon, and I found that knowing it was my sister that brought forth that sort of reaction, made me feel physically ill.

"So," he continued, "I want you to join me in interrupting their morning. To throw them off. I also want your take on Stefan's whole 'let's work together' spiel.'"

Damon used bunny ear quotations when he talked of Stefan's idea and I huffed out a laugh, sliding into his car and leaning my head back against the seat in frustration. When he got in, I turned towards him, my eyes hard.

"Fine, but I'll tell you right now before we even get there, I won't be involved in anything to do with damaging their relationship. I know this is hard for you, seeing them together, but she is happy, and I won't help you ruin that."

Damon's eyes scanned my face, his own expressionless as he focused on reading me. I was an open book, at least at this moment. I didn't need to hide anything from him. In fact, he needed to see it. He needed to know he could trust me, but he also needed to know my limits. Elena and Stefan's relationship; the game he wanted to play with his brother, that was one of them.

Once he had seen what he needed to, he nodded, moving back into his seat. He pulled out of my drive and drove towards the Boarding House, only slowing when I took out a coin to throw over Wickery Bridge.

"Why do you do that? '' he asked.

I rolled up my window and looked at him, shrugging. "It's silly, but it's my way of remembering my parents. People throw coins in fountains and wells to make wishes, well I throw them over the bridge and into the water where my parents died as a way to remember them. I want to make sure that they know I haven't forgotten them, and that I wish they were still here."

My voice cracked, and I cursed myself for allowing emotion to poke through my normally stoic exterior. Damon brushed a strand of hair from my face, placing it behind my ear, a real, none sarcastic smile gracing his lips.

"There's my Elandra," he whispered as we left the bridge behind. "Always so soft-hearted,"

I looked away from him, trying to ignore the way his hand had felt on my skin. Finally, we arrived at the house and I all but jumped from the car the moment he stopped. I stepped into the house and headed upstairs towards Stefan's room. I could feel Damon following me but decided to sip my coffee and ignore him. When I reached Stefan's door, I stood to the side and allowed Damon to take the lead.

"This is so mean," I sighed.

Damon smiled, opening the door and taking my hand, effectively cutting off my protests. He approached the bed, slowly sitting down at the foot and smirking at the vision our siblings made curled up together, unaware of the world around them. They were snuggled up, spooning. It was an unsettling image. Not just because it was my sister I was watching, likely after she had just had sex. Which was just...disgusting. It was also like I was watching a vision of the past. I was finally able to see, first hand, what it had been like when Katherine was with Stefan, all while Damon was in the wings, pining and devastated that the woman he loved was with his brother, always just out of his reach. It made my stomach roll. Was that the sort of thing Damon imagined every time he looked at my sister?

I turned away, feeling more like my past self then I wanted to admit. My heart hurt; this whole situation was starting to bother me more than I expected it too. Katherine would love to know that, and I couldn't let her see it. I couldn't let her use the pain of my past to get what she wanted from me. Elena started to wake, and Stefan joined her seconds later. He wrapped his arms around her tightly as he kissed her on the cheek, a bright smile on his face. I swallowed roughly, averting my eyes from their private moment.

"Mmm. Good morning," Elena sighed contentedly.

This was so wrong. I am the worst sister ever.

Stefan pulled her closer and looked down at her flushed face. "I could get used to this,"

Damon sneered, tilting his head and choosing that moment to make our presence known. "Rise and shine, sleepyheads," he cheerfully said, slapping the bed with gusto.

I winced, turning my head away as they both jumped, my sister revealing her lacy black bra in the process. I quickly walked over to them, yanking the sheet over Elena with a growl in Damon's direction.

Elena narrowed big brown accusatory eyes at me. "Damon, Elara! Please!" she yelled, turning to face him and taking hold of the sheet.

Stefan, on the other hand, let the sheet fall, his bare chest in full view. Elena lifted the sheet to cover him again, glaring in my direction. I scoffed lightly, which turned into a full-on laugh when she bared her teeth at me in anger.

"Please, Lena. Do you know how many times I used to watch them swim in the lake with my brothers? I have seen both Salvatores bare-chested many times. Besides, Stefan is a brother in my eyes," I sighed, stepping next to Damon, who smiled up at me.

"You've seen a lot more than my bare chest, Miss Miller," he mock-whispered.

I blushed profusely and smacked his chest, avoiding my sister's fiery gaze. Stefan tried to reign in a laugh, turning it into a mild cough, which only made Elena grumble in anger.

"What are you two doing in my bedroom?" Stefan asked.

Damon scoffed, his face playful. "Oh, stop being smutty, Stef,"

Stefan pulled the sheet further up on Elena, making sure she was appropriately covered.

"Seriously, get out of here!" Stefan hollered.

I jumped lightly and grabbed Damon's arm, he shrugged me off with a laugh and leered at Stefan and Elena.

"If I see something I haven't seen before, I'll throw a dollar at it," he smirked.

I blinked several times at this and took a step back, my mind whirring at the oddly scientific idea he proposed. I wasn't entirely sure that's what he had meant, but the seed had been planted in my head all the same. Are Elena and Katherine COMPLETELY identical? It's a disgusting thought but an intriguing one. While all these weird ideas were flying through my mind, I didn't notice when Damon stood and leaned down, placing his hands on the frame at the foot of the bed.

"Now listen, we have some very important business to discuss," he said.

Elena sat back and sighed. "And it has to be right now?" she asked.

Damon sneered, crossing his arms. "Well, we have lots to do, now that we're all friends and working towards a common goal," he smirked.

Stefan and Elena exchanged a look, one that made me uneasy. I narrowed my eyes and stood side by side with Damon, crossing my own arms. Yeah, if they were working with Damon than Katherine was gonna win Miss Congeniality at the next Miss Mystic Falls pageant.

"So, to open the tomb, we need to find the journal to get the grimoire to undo the spell. First things first — since as you are Elena Gilbert, you're on journal duty," Damon said.

Elena huffed, pointing her bony finger in my direction. "Hello! Elara G-I-L-B-E-R-T!" Elena spat, spelling out our last name hatefully. "Why can't she do it?" she asked.

Damon turned towards me and shrugged. "Miller," he enunciated slowly. "She'll always be a Miller to me, and besides, I need her for something else. She is an all-powerful witch; journal duty is below her pay grade," he said with a cocky smile.

Elena glared at me, and I slapped Damon on the arm. "Damon, cool it. You're getting me into trouble," I whispered.

Damon turned to me with a wicked smile, and I raised a brow in question. "Since when am I helping? Elara I get, you bat your eyes and somehow convince her to help you," she petulantly said.

I placed a hand on my hip and ground my teeth together, ready to let loose on my childish little sister, but Damon placed his hand on my arm, stopping me before I could blow up on her. I let out a deep breath and tried to cool off, turning away as Damon continued with his little drama fest.

"Well, since Stefan's helping, and you have taken up residence in Stefan's bed, ergo…" he trailed off suggestively.

I bit my lip to keep from laughing, my cheeks burning from the effort. Stefan looked at Elena, ever the knight in shining armor...or sheet as it may be at the moment, and smiled warmly at her.

"You don't have to do anything that you don't want to," he said.

Elena sighed in acceptance, looking at Damon with a gleam in her eye, one that had my spidey senses tingling. Something was definitely going on. I tried to catch her eye and knew for sure they had some sort of plan the moment she guiltily avoided my gaze. I shook my head and turned away from her. She could look for the journal all she wanted, but she wouldn't find it. I would borrow it from Jeremy myself, then use it to locate the grimoire and take it before either of them ever had the chance. I wasn't going to let them stab Damon in the back, not this time. He needed to know that Katherine wasn't in that tomb.

"I'll look for it tonight," she said.

I stood straighter, lowering my chin and staring them both down in anger and defiance. Elena laid back in the bed, pulling the sheet over her face in annoyance.

"Good," Damon said.

Stefan looked down at Elena in amusement and then glanced at Damon and me. "How do we know that this journal will hold the location of the grimoire? We're really going to take the word of this vampire? He seemed like a bit of a dimwit," Stefan said, obviously hoping to stall Damon a bit.

I placed a hand on the back of my neck and rolled my eyes.

"In lieu of any other options," Damon said

I looked at them both and shook my head. "The location is in there. Don't worry. We'll get the grimoire," I said, staring at Stefan with heated eyes.

He watched me closely until Elena pulled the sheet from her face and sat up. "Ok, what exactly is a grimoire, anyway?" she asked.

Damon shrugged his shoulders and looked at me with a smile. "A witch's cookbook," he said.

I started giggling, my chest shaking with the force of it. Stefan sighed, laying back on the bed as Elena had.

"Every spell that a witch casts is unique itself, so every witch would document their work," Stefan explained, speaking towards the ceiling.

Elena watched him, her brows raised in surprise. She looked at me in excitement. "Do you have one?" she asked, voice rushed.

I lowered my head, my laughter dying down. "Elena, I'm not really that kinda witch, but yeah, I have had a few. They were more like journals, though, with memories and thoughts. They did have a few of my own spells that only witches of my kind could ever hope to cast. But they have all probably been lost to time," I said thoughtfully. "Even if they hadn't, with as many different names as I have had, and lives I have lived, only I would even know it was mine."

I refused to tell her that there were a few people that could probably distinguish my handwriting enough to discover if a journal belonged to me. She didn't need to know that the Mikelasons were some of the few people who probably knew me well enough to piece together the different facets of my life.

Elena looked disappointed for some reason, probably hoping I would loan Bonnie a bit of my past. When would she learn that Bonnie would never be able to do what I can? We were two very different incarnations of the witch. She was one of nature: and bound to everything that goes with that. I am a witch of creation: my ancestors were chosen, created to be what we are. My magic was not a gift from nature, so I will never be bound to her or her rules. Nor, will I ever be forced to bow to my ancestors or any other witch for that matter, dead or alive. I felt lucky knowing my ancestors would never force me to do their bidding. I was free to make my own mistakes, and if or when I needed their help, I would always have the option of asking for it, free of fear. Whether they accepted, it was another story. I had been taught long ago that my family line of magic came from deep within our cores. Our very souls were infused with ancient magic, the magic we can draw from. That's how I can channel everything through myself, and am visibly able to show my own magical signature. I can push it outward, and use the force of it as a weapon.

The true story of how my family became infused with magic had long been lost. My mother did tell me as a child that the first of our line, Ashilda, had come across a stone arch after our family settled on their land. When she approached the arch - one she was sure had been there since the time of the old Gods - she found a peculiar script written across it. When she placed her hand on the jagged edge of the stone, she cut the palm of her hand. When her blood seeped onto the rock, a bright light engulfed her. It spilled into her body, lighting up her core, infusing it with the power that we carry within us today. My mother said the old Gods found our line worthy, and now every firstborn daughter is blessed with the gift of magic.

Who knows if that is what truly happened, all I know is, that I'm grateful to not be beholden to anyone, let alone mother nature. I had warned Bonnie once already of what could happen to witches that went against their ancestors, and I was glad to not be one of her kind. I shook myself from my thoughts and focused on the conversation unfolding in front of me.

"And I don't like that disadvantage, so…." Damon clapped his hands together. "Chop, chop."

He grabbed my arm and escorted me towards the door backward. I stumbled dumbly; wait, what had I missed while I was daydreaming?

"You know, I really like this whole menage a foursome team thing. It's got a bit of kink to it," he chuckled, and I rolled my eyes. "Don't screw it up," he said, pointing at them both as he pulled me out the door.

Damon slowly walked me down the stairs, once we hit the bottom step, I yanked him to a stop, my finger on my lips. I used my other hand and pointed at my ear and then the ceiling. He rolled his eyes, their blue depths staring upward where I knew Elena and Stefan were probably trying to act all innocent. After a second, his face screwed up in disgust, and he took my wrist, dragging me outside towards his car.

"What?" I snapped

I figured I probably didn't want the answer if the look on his face was anything to go by. He pushed me into the car, and I huffed in annoyance. I was really getting tired of his pushy behavior.

I watched him warily as he slipped into the car, slamming on the gas and speeding out of the driveway like a man possessed.

"He knew I was listening. Whatever Elena was about to say...he stopped her. Then she decided to...change the subject," he said through clenched teeth.

I crossed my arms and glanced out the window. "Well, good for her. Seems like Stefan may be more fun than I give him credit for," I said under my breath.

Damon, of course, heard me and made sure to hit every bump in the road on the way to my house. By the time he was back in my driveway, at the speed he had been going, my head was quite sore from hitting the roof of his car, but it was worth it. I was sick and tired of him fawning over my sister. I turned my head towards him with a sigh.

"Listen, Damon, I hate to say this, but I don't trust either of our Saint siblings. They obviously have a plan of their own. But what they don't know is, I have insider info."

At my words, Damon's head finally shot towards mine, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. When I saw he was no longer harboring anger towards me, I continued,

"I already know where the journal is. So, I'm going to go get it, and when I have it, I'll recover the location of the grimoire. Then I'm gonna put the journal somewhere they can find it, and they'll never be the wiser."

Damon's eyes clouded with confusion, and I smiled wickedly, leaning closer as if my next words were a closely guarded secret. I lowered my voice,

"I thought you might wanna have some fun with them. We could see exactly what they planned to do. Play with them a bit," When I saw his eyes spark, I quickly added my amendment. "But gently," I added.

His full, pink lips pouted playfully, but his eyes never lost their spark. "You really are amazing, Ellie," he said.

I laughed lightly and decided to taunt him a bit. "And just think I could have been all yours. Elandra Salvatore."

His eyes darkened, and my smile became predatory.

"Too bad, eh. If only I had been born a Petrova," I sighed, my green eyes hardening for a moment.

Damon leaned away from me, his pale face slackening, and I almost felt bad for a moment, but then I remember the pain I had felt watching him as he lusted after my sister all morning, and the guilt vanished. Rebekah would be so proud.

"I'll text you, Damon. Do not make them suspicious of us," I said, pointing my finger at him.

He pushed back his emotions, his mask slipping back into place as he nodded. I slid out of the car and headed inside to find Jeremy and the journal.

Jeremy was pretty easy to locate; like most teenage boys, he was lounging on the couch playing video games.

"Hey, Jer,"

He smiled at me and I plopped down beside him. His eyes never left the TV as he continued rolling the joystick on his controller in a circular motion, a determined expression on his face. I leaned my head on his shoulder and watched him play for a moment.

"I have favor kiddo. Well more like a question," I said.

At this, Jeremy paused his game and spun around on the couch, lifting one leg onto the seat as he turned to face me.

"What's up, Ellie Bean?" he asked in concern.

My heart lifted at the love his expression showed, and I vowed to make sure Elena never forced him into anything again. At least for as long as I could. I felt my stomach sink and tried to forget, for now, that I wasn't going to be around for much longer.

"You remember that creepy monster journal you were reading of our ancestors? Can I have it? I am doing research for a story I'm writing," I said quietly, biting my bottom lip as if I were embarrassed.

Jeremy blinked at me, briefly surprised. Like everyone else, he didn't know that I was into writing (which I am, just never in this life), then smiled brightly. "You're a writer, El?" he asked excitedly.

I nodded quickly with faux enthusiasm, leaning in after looking around the room. "I like to write fiction, but since writing is Elena's thing, I've never nurtured it until recently. Please don't tell anyone, especially that I asked about the journal. I don't want anyone to know I'm into that sorta stuff, Jer," I flushed. "It's kinda embarrassing..."

Jeremy grinned, slapping a hand on my shoulder. "Deal, but I gave the journal to Mr. Saltzman, so you'll have to wait until I can get it back,"

My eyes narrowed into slits. What the hell is Alaric doing with a hunter's journal?

"That's ok, Jer. Just keep this between you and me," I smiled, rising to my feet. Jeremy nodded, pressing start on his game. I waved goodbye and raced out the door, pulling my keys from my bag.

Well, it looks like I'm making a trip to the school.

I pulled into the school, only a few cars lining the mostly deserted parking lot. I spotted the exact one I was looking for and felt my tight jaw tick. I didn't know what to expect, but Alaric Saltzman was proving to become more and more interesting, and not in a good way. It seemed he was going to be a problem, something I never wanted him to become. I had never gotten a bad vibe from him, and I had always been able to trust my vibes or 'sixth sense' about people. That was the only reason I wasn't calling Damon right now and giving him the green light to go in fangs blazing.

I shut off my car and held onto the strap of my purse tightly as I walked up to the entrance, silently praising whichever God was listening when the door was unlocked. I was saving my magical reserve just in case. I was still building up my stamina. The more magic I used, the weaker it made me. I needed to train so that I could cast longer without weakening myself. Who the hell knew what I was walking into. I had never been alone with Alaric or gotten close enough, to get a good read on him. I knew he was human, but that didn't always mean weak. Humans had the potential to be quite powerful with the proper training. As I entered, I squinted in the darkness, glancing around. When I knew I was alone, I cast a low-level spell on myself so that I would blend in with my surroundings. I grimaced as the cold feeling of an egg breaking atop my head slithered over me. I exhaled in relief. I should be sufficiently hidden from all except those who were either trained in the craft or at least knew what to look for.

I tiptoed towards the History classroom, all the while keeping my ears and eyes peeled. As I neared the room, I could see a faint warm light shining in the darkness.

Hello...someone is home.

I peeked into the room and found Alaric sitting at his desk bent over the journal, pouring over its contents with avid interest. His eyes were strained with exhaustion, and I felt a pang of pity for the poor man. What was going on with him? I watched him read for a few minutes, just taking in his mannerisms, trying to understand a bit about him. When he stood quite suddenly, I gasped, stepping away from the door as he burst through. I followed behind him, noticing with interest when he stopped in the middle of the hallway, his back rigid. He spun around and quickly scanned his surroundings in a defensive position, that of a trained hunter. I knew that look. I had seen it many times before. Hell, I had used it myself after Kol taught me.

I've got you now, Mr. Saltzman. Interesting, very interesting. Do the council members know he is a hunter?

I held my breath while his eyes passed over my near-invisible form. I knew that to the trained eye, a shimmer could be seen, but unless Alaric knew a lot about witchcraft, he wouldn't know what to search for. I kept my breath held deeply and watched him wait, head twitching left then right. Finally, he gave up, feet smacking against the tile floor as he headed back the way he had started. Air escaped my lips as my lungs thanked me for the oxygen they so desperately needed. I gulped down a few lungfuls and followed after my mysterious hunter/history teacher. I would seriously need to pay better attention in class from now on. Who knows precisely what type of supernatural beings he hunts. No need to piss him off unnecessarily. I found him in the teacher's lounge, making copies of the journal. The glow from the copier illuminated his still form, and I bit my lip, unsure if him having a copy of the journal was such a good idea. I stood next to him and watched as he finished rather quickly. When he was done, he shut off the light, and I followed him back to his classroom, this time without any oxygen deprivation. He lightly tossed the original journal on his desk and slipped the copy in a drawer beside him. Sitting back in his seat, he covered his tired face with his hands. I saw a quick glimpse of the purple bags under his eyes and felt the pang of pity in the pit of my stomach again. I wasn't entirely sure what exactly it was about this man, but I had a bit of a soft spot for him. I could see he was a good man and that he would be suitable for Jenna. Still, he seemed to be just as stuck in the supernatural world as Elena was, and that would just put my family at further risk.

Would it be worth it to help this man? As he pulled his rough hands away from his face, his blue eyes locked with my invisible green orbs, and I felt my shoulders slump in defeat. Something was telling me Alaric Saltzman was meant to become involved with the Gilbert family. I could feel a firm sense of resolve fill me.

Ok, Alaric, I'm going to help you.

I nodded as a plan started to form in my mind, and watched him grab a handful of papers from a tray on his desk. Leaning over them he began to grade, with much less enthusiasm than he had before when reading the journal. A sudden movement outside of the classroom caught both Alaric and I's attention, our heads snapping towards the disturbance. I stepped away from Alaric and moved towards the journal, using his captured attention to my advantage, my hand reaching out to it. When Alaric stood, heading to the door, I took the journal from the desk, slipping it into my bag with ease. Alaric stepped outside the room, his back ramrod straight. I watched him closely, ready to step in if he needed me to.

"Hello?" he called out.

I rolled my eyes. Really?

I almost wanted to tell him how very teenage girl in a horror flick he was right now. When he left the classroom for the hallway, I slipped my hand into his desk, where he had stashed the copy he had made and grabbed it as well.

Sorry, Alaric…

I stepped out of the room and slid past him as quietly as possible. I could sense a vampire here with us, and it wasn't either of the boys. I didn't plan on staying to find out who it was. I cast a quick protection spell on Alaric, hoping it would be enough to give him the shot he would need to take care of himself. I couldn't stick around all day, protecting him. I looked back at him one last time, he was still calling out into the darkness and exited the school. As I hopped into my car, I sensed a familiar presence in the air. Stefan? How did he find out about the journal? I put my car in drive and fled the school before Stefan got the chance to see me. I drove as quickly as I dared, and pulled into my house ten minutes before I would have driving the speed limit. I grabbed the journal and scanned the pages rapidly, searching for anything that would tell me what I needed to know. When I found what I was looking for, my eyes ignited with hatred.

That stupid son of a bitch!

I should have guessed. I pulled the copy from my bag and stepped out of my car, walking beside the house. I grabbed Aunt Jenna's tin bucket from the garden and sat it on the ground in front of me, placing the copy of the journal inside. I stood, brushing the gravel from my knees and snapped my fingers, setting the pages on fire. I stood in front of the bucket, watching the pages curl and burn as the smoke swirled in circles. Once the pages were ash, I took the pail to the curb, dumping the remains in the trash can with a smirk. With the original journal in hand, I headed inside. I could hear voices coming from the kitchen but chose to ignore whoever it was for now. I sat down next to Jeremy, who was still lounging on the couch.

"Hey, Jer. Did you tell Stefan about the journal?" I whispered.

Jeremy looked up at me oddly but shook his head. "No, why?" he asked in confusion.

I frowned slightly, hoping I could believe him and sighed. "Who did you tell?" I asked.

Jeremy looked more confused than ever at my strange questioning and blinked slowly before realization dawned on his face. "Stefan was here earlier when I was talking to this girl Anna about the journal. She wanted to see it, but I told her I needed it once I got it back from Ric. He probably heard me," he said, shrugging.

I leaned against his shoulder and smiled. "Ahhh. Well, that makes sense. Cause see, I went and borrowed it from Alaric, but Stefan was there asking about it. I was nervous and didn't wanna bother them, so I just took it. I'll explain it to Alaric later. I was just curious why Stefan wanted it. Could you tell Stefan you went and picked it up if he asks? Just tell him that when you grabbed it, Alaric wasn't around," I pleaded with puppy eyes.

Jeremy must have sensed my need and thought it was because I was a bit nervous around Stefan. His brotherly instincts kicked in.

"Yeah, of course, Ellie. You don't have to say shit to Stefan!"

I grinned broadly and kissed his cheek, giving him the tightest hug I could. "Ok, I'm gonna leave this here on the table for now. Remember, this is just between you and me, ok?"

Jeremy winked at me, and I left him to the TV and his lazy day. I felt bad for using my baby bro like that, but I knew he would understand when the time came. I just couldn't wait until we could really team-up. I wanted to tell him everything. I headed into the kitchen and was shocked to find Aunt Jenna planted on the counter, her legs swinging happily, a glass of red wine in hand. Damon was standing beside her, cutting into a tomato. I held the swinging door open, my lashes batting in amused confusion.

"My father never approved of anyone I dated, which only made me want them more, of course. What about you?" Damon was saying.

I scoffed lightly, releasing the door, the breeze of it swaying back into place blowing strands of my air around. I placed a hand on my hip. What an utter crock of shit. His father approved of our union until I was found to be a witch. Of course, by then, he had known Damon had basically dissolved our courtship in favor of Katherine. It had strained their relationship even more than it already had been. He had thought it a stain on their family honor, a broken courtship was a massive faux pas after all.

Damon spun around to greet me, the sharp blade pointed in my direction. "Have something to add there, Ellie," he asked, brow raised in a dare.

I held my jaw together tightly. "No, I was just under the assumption that there was one girl your father had approved of, once upon a time. At least for a brief period," I said tightly.

Damon cocked a grin, his eyes blazing in triumph. Had he been goading me? Jenna looked between us momentarily before watching Damon go back to cutting up the tomato.

"Yeah, there was one, but I screwed that up royally, so she doesn't really count," he said in an almost whisper.

Jenna handed him her glass of wine and patted him on the back in a gesture of solidarity. I giggled under my breath when Damon chugged down the last of her wine before pouring her more, when he tried to stop in the middle of the glass Jenna took the bottle, filling the cups to the rim. Damon chuckled, going back to his chopping.

"There were a few guys. Logan isn't the only loser I've dated," Jenna said mournfully.

Damon looked at me and pointed the knife in my direction again. "What about you?" he asked.

I choked on my tongue and started coughing. Jenna laughed joyfully. "Yeah, El, what about you? I'd like to hear about this. You have always been so secretive, and Elena won't ever spill about you," Jenna said.

I leaned against the island and sighed deeply. Damon was such an ass.

"Umm. I don't really date. I have had flings," I said, avoiding Jenna's eyes.

Jenna spluttered, wine flying onto my face. I wiped the liquid from my cheek and bit my lip, wincing at her surprised expression.

"Elara Marie!" she gasped.

I raised my hands in the air and shook my head. "Hey, no judgment. I am not...I have no time...I just don't want a relationship, and I'm not stupid. I'm careful," I said, stuttering painfully.

Jenna observed me weighing her words, with a resigned sigh, her shoulders slumped as she smiled weakly. "At least tell me who?" she asked.

I laughed uneasily. "Um, Tyler Lockwood and a guy from the football team. No one that you know. After Tyler, I decided to keep things casual. No close friends. It's my rule," I explained, twisting my fingers.

"Well, at least it's not someone like Logan Fell. I hope..." she said.

I shook my head, and she smiled. Damon, who had been oddly quiet throughout our conversation apart from the savage sound of chopping, bit out a few words. "Did they ever find him?" he asked.

I turned away, rolling my eyes. That asshat had deserved everything he got.

"He's not missing. He's in the Bahamas working on his tan. Very entitled, that one. Marches to his own drum." She drained the remainder of her glass. "He's a Fell. They're all snooty," she added.

Damon chuckled and poured some more wine in Jenna's glass. Was he helping her get drunk? She smiled brightly at him and headed towards the living room. I watched her go, hoping Jeremy would make sure she didn't get too smashed. I stepped beside Damon and leaned next to his ear, in the guise of reaching for a slice of tomato. He made to slap my hand, but I growled at him.

"I found it," I snapped next to his ear.

He froze before he held a chunk of tomato against my lips with an expectant expression on his face.

"The journal?" he asked.

I opened my mouth and let him feed me with a roll of my eyes. I finished my mouthful and nodded before adding onto my sentence.

"Yeah, but that's not what I'm talking about. I know where the grimoire is. Also, our plan involving the Saints squared is in effect in the living room," I said with a wink.

Damon's brows raised, and he dropped the knife with a hearty laugh. "The Saints Squared?" he asked in amazement.

I shrugged with a nod. "Suits them, don't ya think. Everyone thinks they're so damn perfect. Can you imagine what that must be like? I'd go mad under pressure!" I said, placing my hands on my cheeks.

I'd hate to live life feeling like I had to be perfect all the time. He shuddered dramatically, and I couldn't help but laugh. Damon drew my attention, my laughter ceasing when he spun on his heel, facing the doorway with a smirk.

"Hello, Elena," he said.

I stepped away from him and looked at my sister, whose arms were stationed across her chest, her big brown eyes judging me harshly. I groaned and maneuvered around my sister.

"I have an Aunt I need to make sure has sobered up, and then I have to pick up something from the store,"

Damon smiled at my excuse but kept his eyes firmly on Elena; it was enough to let me know he would keep her preoccupied. Not that he would find his job all that hard. I stepped out of the kitchen and found Jenna seated next to Stefan and Jeremy on the couch. My eyes zeroed in on the coffee table, where I was pleased to see the journal missing in action. I bit my lip to keep the smile from my face and patted Jeremy on the shoulder.

"Hey kiddo, get Jenna some Advil and a bottle of water. I need to get something from the store," I sighed.

Jenna protested, but Jeremy laughed, ignoring her half-hearted swats and semi-slurred words. Stefan looked up at me, eyes curious and a bit weary, but I smiled brightly.

"I saw someone got Damon to cook dinner. It's been a while since he put his skills to a less homicidal use," I whispered with a giggle.

Stefan's lips twitched, and he looked away, focusing on the TV again. "I'll be back in a bit," I said, grabbing my keys and jogging out the door.

Time to go dig up an asshole.

I drove as quickly as I could, heading towards the old cemetery where I knew Giuseppe Salvatore to be buried. As I pulled up beside the gate, I cut the engine and popped my trunk before I slipped out of the car. Digging in the back, I pulled out a flashlight and winced as I slammed the trunk closed, the sound echoing and seeming louder in the darkness. I pulled my jacket around me, listening to the crunching of the wet grass below my feet as I journeyed into the graveyard. I slowly repeated a silly mantra in my head to keep myself calm.

Zombies are not real, zombies are not real.

As the old fashioned tombstones came into view, I clenched my teeth and tried to keep the Thriller music video out of my head.

Come on, Elandra, you're over a thousand years old. Get a grip!

I pushed myself forward, shining my light on the tombstones as I came across them, heading deeper and deeper into the graveyard. Finally, towards the back, I found a worn stone, the edges chipped and words faded. I bent down, brushing my hand along the aged stone, dirt and crumpled leaves falling to the ground. It read; Giuseppe Salvatore.

Asshole extraordinaire is a more fitting moniker.

I sat my flashlight down and sighed, thinking over exactly what spell I needed to use. I needed to dig him up and then put all the dirt back, making the whole grave look once again undisturbed.

I nibbled on my bottom lip thoughtfully, then with a huff decided I would just pull the dirt up, then refill it and flattened the earth, making it look as it had before. It would exhaust me, but I had my Blackwood branch so I would be ok. I lowered my hand over his grave and scrunched up my face in disgust. This was not my idea of fun. I took a deep breath and let my power flow, slowly turning my hand as I felt my core flair with magic, a warm burning deep within. I opened my eyes and saw the electric blue light glow through my skin. The ground in front of me started to quake, breaking apart as the earth flew skyward. My other hand shot forward, stopping its travel, and I took a heavy breath as the dark soil froze in mid-air. My hands shook slightly as I began to maneuver it to my right so that I could have it all together for when I needed to return it later. I lowered it into a massive pile and looked at the hole I had successfully made with glee. I had done it. I stepped next to the hole, looking down.

A light brown wooden coffin rested below, a smattering of dark wet earth still covering the lid. Jumping down, I landed next to it and brushed off the dirt, the cold rough wood rubbed against my skin uncomfortably and I tried to ignore the sensation. I felt around the edges until I found a spot I could grasp, and started yanking up the side. Holding my breath, I pulled it open, moaning when I looked down at the skeleton of the man who had once helped kill me. In his arms was Emily's grimoire. I looked away, a thick lump in my throat, and gently pulled the book from his grasp. I tried to ignore the cold, slimy feel of the hard bone but couldn't hold back a gag. When I finally had the grimoire in my grasp, I sat it on the edge of the coffin and rubbed my hands down my jeans with a shudder.

Ugh...so disgusting!

I quickly slammed the coffin lid shut, shivering as I slipped out of the hole. I sat the spellbook next to me and lifted my hands, watching the dirt fly into the air again, and fill the hole. Once the coffin was covered, I waved my right hand, flattening the soil and making it appear as if I had never been here. I nodded in satisfaction when my work was done. I sent Damon a text, smiling and rolling my eyes when he sent back a bunch of heart emojis. I picked up the book and my light as I headed back the way I had come. My prize in hand.

On the way home, I stopped by the store and picked up a few things we had run out of as a way to maintain my cover story. So by the time I pulled up at my house, I had been gone for a little over an hour and a half. I quickly ran my hand over my clothes to cleanse them and placed the Blackwood branch back in my purse. I made sure the grimoire was in my bag and stumbled out of my car, closing my eyes as I shook my head roughly. I was a little weak from overexertion, but the branch had helped to restore most of my magic, and I was determined to fight through the rest of my weakness. I was getting tired of feeling so useless. I was supposed to be strong and powerful, and I needed to be. Shit was about to hit the fan. I was going to start training again. I ran inside, tossing my keys into the bowl by the door. I released a relieved breath when I noticed Elena and Damon were just now bringing the food in from the kitchen. I hadn't missed dinner. Hell yeah! I was starving. I took the groceries into the kitchen and rolled my eyes as I watched Damon deliberately bumping into Elena every chance he got. Well, I could have done without the flirting.

Was she the one digging up his father for him?

I grumbled under my breath as I went back into the dining room and slumped down into my seat, glaring at my sister as she laughed at Damon's actions. Damon placed a bowl on the table next to me, completely ignoring my existence as he focused on Elena. His eyes were hard as steel, and I realized they had been having a conversation right next to me. What was with me and zoning out today?

"Then you understand what I will do if anyone gets in my way," he threateningly told her.

Elena visibly gulped, and I couldn't stop the giggle that escaped me. They both shot me a look, Damon raised a brow and smiled while Elena glared hatefully. Damon walked away, leaving Elena alone with me.

She placed both hands on her hips and stared me down. "What are you doing, Elara? This game you are playing with him is going to get people killed. People we love!" she snarled.

I stood from my seat and placed a hand on the table, leaning closer to her. "No, what is going to get people killed is you and Stefan standing in our way. He needs to get in that tomb, Elena. It is the only way. I'd ask you to trust me, but it wouldn't make a difference, would it?" I asked, my eyes tearing up despite my anger.

Elena looked away, her hair falling into her face. The fact that she couldn't look at me was all the answer I needed. I had felt a smidgen of guilt for tricking her and Stefan. Still, the way they were going about things, and the fact that she was refusing to even trust me, her own sister, was enough to wipe it all away. I sat back down, my head falling forward.

"We're done here, Elena. You have made up your mind. Chose your side in this, and I've done the same. It's a pity really, all this time we're wasting," I said, my voice breaking off as I lowered my head into my hands.

Elena stood beside me in silence for a moment before turning around and walking away. I shook my head, frustrated tears spilling from my eyes. I brushed them away and placed my hands on my knees. There was nothing more I could do about our relationship right now. I had to do things this way. I knew what needed to be done to ensure the future went as smoothly as possible. Damon had suffered long enough. He deserved freedom, and this course of action would give him that. I shook off my melancholy as Damon and Elena brought out the rest of the food. Dinner was a stressful affair, my anxiety, and I held hands throughout the entire meal. Damon made sure to poke at Stefan and Elena the whole time. I basically inhaled my food just for the chance at a quick escape. As soon as I was done, I stepped out onto the front porch, the grimoire, still hidden in my bag. I sat down on the porch swing and held my bag against my chest, the massive indent of the grimoire, an oddly reassuring presence.

I pushed my legs back and forth as I swung. I let the cold night air clear my head, the breeze blowing the smell of honeysuckle and roses towards me from the garden at the back of the house. I slowly swung back and forth, the rhythm almost lulling me into a coma-like state, until I noticed a dark shadow blocking the light beside me. I turned my head and sighed when I saw Damon, Stefan, and Elena all huddled together near the open window. I inwardly groaned as I listened to Damon pestering Elena and Stefan about the journal. I couldn't help but smile when Stefan mentioned Alaric. Looked like he made it out of his encounter with the vampires alive. Good for him. I would need to introduce myself for what I really am sooner rather than later. I stopped swinging, the toes of my shoes scraping against the wooden porch when Stefan brought Jeremy into the conversation. I stood quickly and stepped back inside the house just as Damon was heading back towards the couch where Jeremy was sitting alone, Aunt Jenna having gone upstairs.

"No. Damon, leave him out of it!" Elena panicked, her eyes revealing the fact that she knew Jeremy had no idea where the journal was.

I wanted to pounce on her Ala cheetah and rip her to shreds. She had the nerve to accuse me of being the one who would involve the people we love. Yet, here she was willingly allowing Jeremy to be pulled into this even though she knew exactly where the journal was. I stood towards the back of their little group and crossed my arms, jaw tight.

"Why, what's the big deal?" Damon asked, shrugging his shoulders.

He was definitely enjoying this little game. I caught his eye for a moment and smiled briefly when their blue depths twinkled with mischief. I let out a relieved breath and lowered my arms, my defensive posture loosening. As long as he wasn't really planning on pulling my brother into the thick of things, I could let him have his fun. They deserved it, after all. I stepped up beside Jeremy, and Elena froze momentarily, her brown eyes widening.

"Damon, Elara!" she whisper-shouted, as only she could.

I cringed my ears protesting as my mind conjured up images of nails on a chalkboard. "Elena, calm down! Get a grip. Jeremy is going to be fine," I said.

I plopped down on the couch next to our brother, my arm draping over the back, and shared a loaded look with Damon, reminding him to tread carefully. Damon sat on the arm on the sofa, leaning close to Jeremy with his best attempt at a brotherly expression on his face. I chuckled under my breath, and placed a hand on my forehead, adding a new item to my mental checklist, 'Teach Damon how to be less creepy.'

"So...I heard you found a really cool journal from back in the day. Who else did you show it to?" Damon asked, trying (what I hope was not his best) attempt at nonchalant.

My chest shook lightly as I silently laughed. I was sincerely hoping this wasn't Damon really trying to gather intel because if it was, I felt terrible for him. I kept my eyes off my brother and was beyond proud when he didn't glance my way once. I had to give Jeremy credit, he had one hell of a poker face.

"Huh?" he asked, playing dumb.

Damon rolled his eyes, face hard. "Don't ask questions, just spill," he said.

I leaned across Jeremy and slapped Damon on the knee. Jeremy chuckled and looked between all four of us with guarded interest. "You're kidding me, right?" he asked, looking directly at me.

Elena started to speak, I assumed to ask Jeremy who else he had shown the journal to, but I held up my hand, stopping her mid-sentence.

"It's ok, Jeremy. You can tell us it's not a big deal. It's just…I guess that come to find out...that journal was a little more valuable than we originally knew." I half-heartedly explained, trying to convey with only my eyes that he shouldn't tell them about me.

Jeremy looked at me for a moment, his eyes scanning my face before he turned his head to look at Damon and Stefan, expression protective. He took my hand and gave it a tight, reassuring squeeze.

"Just this girl Anna," he said.

I released a breath I hadn't known I had been holding and squeezed Jeremy's hand in thanks. I could tell he no longer trusted the Salvatores, and I wasn't sure how I could remedy that right now, or if I even wanted to if I was being honest. The Salvatores had the potential to be extremely dangerous, and although I loved them, I didn't entirely trust them to protect my human family. In immortal years, they were young, and sometimes the decisions they made were lethal.

Jeremy's trust in the Salvatores wasn't my main concern right now, I had too many problems to deal with at the moment to add another, so, onto the mental checklist, it would have to go. At this rate, my list was going to be a few feet long.

Damon cocked his head in question. "The hot, weird one?" he asked.

I blinked a few times and tilted my body around so that I could see Jeremy. "The what?" I huffed.

Jeremy blushed and nodded quickly, a hand on his neck. "Yeah," he said.

Elena took the lapse in talking to step in front of Jeremy. She looked down at him in curiosity. "Wait, who is Anna?" she asked.

I leaned towards Jeremy and patted my knees excitedly. "What she said," I smiled, pointing my thumb at Elena.

Jeremy looked at all of us again, noticing all eyes on him, two sets of them anxiously awaiting his answer and huffed in exasperation. Before he could open his mouth, Elena's phone rang, and she yanked it out of her back pocket, glancing down at the screen. Her brown eyes blazed with annoyance for a second before softening as she answered, quickly catching my eye and pointing to Jeremy and Damon. I rolled my eyes and gestured for her to leave.

"How do you know her?" Damon asked Jeremy as soon as Elena headed up the stairs.

Jeremy looked away from our retreating sister and leaned against the couch. "I just know her. She wants to meet me at the Grill tonight," Jeremy said.

I smiled brightly and covertly winked at Damon. This would be the perfect way to meet Jeremy's mystery gal and get away from Elena and Stefan.

"Perfect," I said, clapping my hands.

Jeremy blinked rapidly, looking at me in shock. Damon stood, taking my hand as he did. "I'll drive. Come on," he said.

I grabbed Jeremy's hand and pulled him towards the door. "O-Okay," he said in shock.

I pushed Jeremy out the door and looked behind us, catching Stefan heading up the stairs towards Elena's room. I shook my head, a flare of betrayal stinging me. Even without super vamp hearing, I knew he was heading up there to tell Elena he was going to read through the journal and find out where the grimoire was. I looked away from the stairs and buried the feeling of betrayal, he was doing what he thought was best. Just as I was. I followed after Jeremy and hopped into Damon's car.

"You still with me, El?" Damon asked.

I turned my head towards him in confusion and saw the flash of fear and uncertainty in his eyes before he closed himself off again. I checked the backseat where my brother was staring out the window before I took Damon's hand and sent him a confident wink.

"Of course, I am. There's nowhere else I'd rather be," I chuckled.

Damon squeezed my hand, his cold skin raising the hairs on my arm. I cocked my brow and used my other hand to motion towards the ignition. "We gonna go?" I whispered.

Damon rolled his eyes and gave me his best cocky smile as he started the car. I moved my hand from his and placed it in my lap. I really didn't need to blur any more lines with Damon. Once we reached the Grill, Jeremy headed inside to find Anna. Damon and I stayed towards the back of the bar and waited. After a few minutes, Jeremy was joined at the pool tables by a short, long-haired brunette girl. Damon growled in recognition, and I froze in fear. If he recognized her, that could only mean one thing; she was a vampire. I focused on the girl and was shocked when her smiling face turned towards me, recognition instantly ignited within me, and my back became rigid with stress. I had seen her before, back in 1864. I knew her and her mother, Pearl, which was obviously why she was here now, flirting with my very human brother. Katherine might not be in the tomb, but I knew Pearl was.

Anna had another thing coming, though, if she thought she could use Jeremy to get her out. A Gilbert or not. She would not be using him for her revenge. I stood next to Damon, a silent sentinel throughout Jeremy's entire 'date' with Anna. When the night winded down, I texted Jenna, making sure she was sober enough to pick Jeremy up. I told her I had a few things I needed to do before I would be home. She was surprisingly ok with my late night to-do list, and for that, I was grateful. She told me she was okay to swing by to get him and I was glad to have at least one thing easily handled. Damon and I followed Anna's scent to a dingy Motel where Damon quickly stole Anna's room key. Once we were safely inside her room, I sat down next to him on the edge of one of the rumbled beds and waited, my eyes glued to the door.

"You know I could do this part on my own," Damon said.

I rolled my eyes towards the heavens and looked at him in annoyance. "Yeah, cause I'm just gonna leave you to deal with a much older vamp all on your own. That's not gonna happen," I said.

Damon smiled briefly, then held a finger to his lips, his blue eyes crinkling as he stood zooming behind the door. I slowly stood and crossed my arms. A low clicking sound came from the door, and Damon pressed his back against the wall, just as Anna came inside. Damon sped in front of Anna, taking her by the throat, and slamming her against the wall, taking her by surprise for only a moment. Before I could take control of the situation, Anna had grasped Damon by the throat, turning the tables on him, and she started to squeeze. Damon gasped in pain, choking from the strength of her grip. I sighed deeply and waved my hand, ripping the two vampires apart. They both went flying in opposite directions, slamming into the walls with loud gasps of pain and annoyance. I shook my head with a laugh and stood directly in the middle of the two. Damon was the first to sit up, leaning against his knees with a groan.

"Damn," he said, rubbing his neck. "You're strong for a little thing,"

I smirked, glancing at Anna, who was looking at me in pure shock. "How?" she finally managed.

I pointed at myself and shrugged. "Original witch, cursed, Reincarnate. Very long story," I said, shaking my hand in a blasé way.

Anna looked at Damon and started to laugh, her whole body shaking. Damon's face scrunched up in anger as he stood, moving towards the little vampire. I held up my hand, putting up a magical barrier between the two. It pulsed briefly, in a thunderous flash of light, before disappearing. Anna and Damon flinched, covering their eyes.

Damon banged his hands against the invisible wall of magic in anger, his blue eyes furious. "Whoa, moron slow down. I'm not gonna let you get yourself killed just because you're mad that she is laughing at you," I sighed.

Anna stood up and stepped closer to the barrier with a grin. "So, how are you enjoying having your ex-fiance around while you're trying to get your lover out of the tomb?" she sneered.

I lowered the barrier slowly, and stepped right next to Anna, tilting my head expression blank. I focused on her mind, smiling when she crumbled to her knees, screaming in pain.

"Listen here bitch, I already know why you're here and what you want. I know Pearl is in the tomb, but ya see, you have nothing we need, so if you don't want me staking your mother the first chance I get, then you need to stay the hell out of our way. That means leaving my brother alone," I said, letting up on the witchy migraine I was giving her.

Anna gasped, her pained sobs letting up. She looked up at me in confusion. "Your brother?" she asked.

I leaned closer to her and smiled. "Oh yeah, you don't know who I am this go around. Elara Gilbert at your service," I said, waving brightly.

Anna's face whitened considerably, and I could hear Damon chuckling darkly behind me.

"Yeah, Jeremy is my baby brother. Now I get your anger at the Gilberts, I do. I mean, Jonathan Gilbert helped kill me, but ya see, they are family now so I can't let you exact your revenge on any of them," I said, my voice firm.

I stepped past her and opened the door to her room. Damon joined me and looked down at Anna. "You heard everything she said, Anna. We work alone, and if I see you anywhere near the Gilberts, I will kill your mother myself," he said, stepping outside.

I glanced at Anna one last time and bit my lip. "I'll get her out, Anna. As long as you don't cross me. I never had anything against either of you, and your mother was a nice woman, but you go against my family or me, and you will regret it," I said.

Anna looked up at me, her brown hair falling into her eyes. Finally, she nodded. "You have a deal. Just save my mother," she whispered.

I placed a fisted hand over my heart and lowered my head. "Agreed. I'll call you when we open the tomb," I said, before turning and leaving the girl behind. I just hoped I made the right decision.

Once we were back in the car, Damon looked at me in confusion. "Are you really going to help her save Pearl?" he asked.

"As long as she keeps to her end of the deal. It's the right thing to do, Damon," I said, turning away from him. "Now, let's go deal with our Sainted siblings," I sighed.

Damon and I stood just out of view, watching Stefan shovel the dirt out of Giuseppe's grave. Elena stood beside the deep hole, the beam of her flashlight the only source of light in the darkness surrounding us. We were both shielded from detection by a magic barrier I had placed between our siblings and us. I watched in disappointment as Elena used the situation to joke with Stefan. She smiled down at him shaking her head.

"What?" Stefan asked.

Elena continued to shake her head in amusement. "Not many girls can say they've done this," she said.

I scoffed lightly next to Damon, tapping my foot on the ground. "Get a room, Elena," I whispered.

Damon placed a hand on my lower back and snickered. Stefan continued to dig until a loud thud interrupted his low grunting. I rolled my shoulders in anticipation.

"Finally, it's about damn time. It didn't take me nearly this long," I ranted.

Damon stepped closer to the barrier, his shoulders squared and watched his brother toss the shovel out of the grave. Stefan quickly started to wipe the dirt from the coffin as Elena knelt down, leaning closer to the hole to get a better look at what Stefan was doing.

"Hold the beam steady, Elena," Stefan said.

Elena nodded and held the light towards the grave with both hands. Stefan found an edge and started to pry the coffin open. Breathing heavily, Elena leaned forward with a gasp as the lid creaked open. I looked at Damon, and we both shared a smile.

"What? No, that's not possible. The journal said it would be here," Stefan sputtered.

I lifted my hand and lowered the barrier stepping out from the shadows with Damon by my side.

Well, what do you know?" Damon playfully said.

He cocked his head to the side and smiled down at his brother. I stepped up beside him and watched Elena closely, her brown eyes narrowed as she took me in with distaste. Stefan slammed the coffin lid closed and pulled himself from the hole, speeding in front of Elena. Damon sneered at his brother and turned to me with a smile.

"This is an interesting turn of events, wouldn't you say, Elandra?" he asked.

I looked at my sister with a frown, my head tilted. "Very interesting, Day. But sadly, I can't say I'm all that surprised," I said.

Stefan lifted his hands in supplication but kept himself firmly placed between the two of us and Elena. I wanted to laugh as if I would ever allow Elena to be hurt. Yet here he was, acting as if I were the enemy, all because I was siding with Damon.

"I can't let you bring her back. I'm sorry," Stefan said.

I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling gently in exasperation. I stepped closer to Stefan and leaned near him. "Listen to me, Stefan. Katherine is not in the tomb. She has never been in the tomb. Damon just needs to see that so he can move on. You need to give him that," I angrily said.

Stefan looked at me sadly as if I were a small child being tricked into believing in a fairy tale. "I'm sorry, Elandra, but I can't take that chance," he sighed.

Damon stepped in front of me, pulling me away from Stefan with a growl. "I can't believe I ever, for even a second, considered trusting you," he spat.

Elena whimpered lightly from behind Stefan, and I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

"Oh. You're not capable of trust. The fact that you're here means that you read the journal, and you were planning on doing this yourself," Stefan said triumphantly.

I tried to step around Damon but was held back by his tight grip on my shoulder. Both Elena and I were being pinned behind the feuding Salvatore brothers, and I was beginning to lose my patience.

"Of course, Elandra and I were going to do things on our own, because the only people we can seem to count on is each other! You made sure I couldn't count on you many years ago, Stefan." Damon stepped closer to his brother, blue eyes rolling with emotion, and pointed his finger at Elena. "But you...If I hadn't had your sister...you would have had me fooled," he sneered, a thick pain in his voice.

Elena turned away, hiding her ashamed and hurt expression behind Stefan's shoulder. I shook my head and took Damon's wrist, pulling him away from our siblings and hopefully offering him what little comfort I could.

"So what are you going to do now, Damon? Because you know I can't allow you to open the tomb," Stefan said, stepping closer to us.

Damon laughed, smirking at his brother as he watched Elena follow carefully behind Stefan.

"What are you going to do, Stefan? All we need to open the tomb is a witch, and that won't be too hard to accomplish," Damon said, watching his brother with an intensely hateful expression.

As Stefan inched closer and closer to Damon, I held my bag tightly against my side. I silently cast a spell that would prevent anyone but me from touching it. I knew Stefan was planning something, and I was getting antsy. Stefan and Damon continued to dance around each other, each fighting for dominance. I slowly tried to inch away from them, unknowingly giving Stefan the shot at me he had been aiming for.

Stefan vamp sped in my direction. Before I could even take a breath, he was biting into his wrist and bringing it to my lips, feeding me his blood. The coppery taste ran across my tongue as I tried to fight against him. But it was to no avail, and before I could think to use magic, I had given in and started to swallow. The blood falling down my chin as I gasped for air. The thick liquid inched down my throat, and I gagged, trying to turn my face away from him, but his fingers held my chin tightly. I could feel bruises starting to form and just prayed for him to stop. When I had accepted enough, he pulled finally away. I quickly wiped the remainder of the blood from my chin and mouth, disgusted by the man I had seen as a brother. I didn't think I would be able to forgive him for this. At least not for a very long time. Before he could make another move, I twisted around in his arms, smacking him as hard as I could, allowing the hurt and disappointment to show in my eyes. Stefan looked away quickly and without an ounce of emotion, wrapped his cold hand around my neck, pulling me beside him. My feet lifted from the ground as he dangled me in front of Damon.

"Give me the grimoire, or I will snap her neck, and we will see first hand if her curse is affected by vampire blood," he threatened. "Are you ready to play Russian roulette with El's life, Damon?"

I clawed at Stefan's fingers but otherwise tried my best to hide the fear that was welling up inside of me. I could see everything I had been working for swirling down the drain.

I didn't want to die. That was a heady thought for someone like me to have, someone who usually had no choice but to accept death. Now though, all I wanted to do was fight...and live.

Damon stood in front of me, helplessly watching as his brother held my life ransom. I caught his blue gaze and followed it to my bag and then back to Stefan. I could see his resolve grumble as he started to give in. After everything, he was going to give in to save me. A small whimper of fear and disbelief caught Damon's attention, and flickering of hope started to grow in his blue orbs. Stefan's body froze in fear, and I watched his eyes darken as he realized that unless he released me, there was nothing he could do to save her. His shoulders stiffened, and I was sure he hoped that he could somehow still save Elena and get the grimoire out of this whole ordeal.

He was a moron.

Hopelessly I watched as Damon sped over to my sister, taking her by the throat. He quickly ripped into his own wrist, feeding her his blood. Elena's face turned to me, eyes round with fear, her lips stained red, as Damon's blood spread through her system. I could see the moment the realization of what it could mean for her finally clicked. Tears began to well in her brown eyes, as her whole body began to shake.

Damons hand held her steady as he stared down his brother, crystal eyes moving from Stefan to me in quick succession. "I can do one better. Give me Elandra, or you will have a vampire girlfriend, brother," he sternly said.

I watched the whole scene play out in horror, Damon had fed Elena his blood. He had made the decision to do to her what had been done to him. It was so easy for them to play with immortality; for me, it wouldn't work, but for Elena, it would, and it would be an eternity she never asked for. One that would cause a monumental disaster.

Oh God! There was so much that would be lost if Elena became a vampire. I could see the death and destruction of everything, and everyone we loved flitter across my vision, and panic began to set in. I could feel power start to course through my veins, sending a burst of magic across my skin. The bright blue burst of light caught Damon off guard, and he dropped Elena in shock. My skin glowed, a beacon in the darkness, and Stefan gasped in pain when his skin started to sizzle as if he had touched an open flame. I felt my feet connect with solid ground and caught myself as I fell forward, my hands landing on the soft grass in front of me. Stefan stepped away from me as I stood, my whole body still glowing with light. I turned towards the vampire that had held me captive, and I raised my hand, closing my palm into a fist, pulling him towards me. Stefan flew through the air, his eyes wide with shock. I lowered him to the ground next to Damon and he collapsed onto his knees. I quickly made my way to Elena, the glow of my skin dimming into nonexistence. Elena, still shaking, watched me in fear, doe eyes large. It was so reminiscent of the time I had once healed her when we were children that I froze momentarily, my eyes burning with unshed tears. I raised my hands with a smile, trying to reassure that I never wanted any harm to come to her.

"Lena, I am so sorry. I never wanted things to go this way. We were supposed to talk and nothing more. Stefan went too far tonight," I said with a wince.

My head was beginning to pound, one of the least fun side effects of vampire blood.

Elena shakily stood and backed away from me, heading closer to Stefan. "Elara, this whole thing has gone too far, and nothing will change until Damon leaves town. He can't be allowed to get into the tomb," she said, as she lowered herself down next to her vampire.

I ran my hands across my forehead and felt a cold hand against my neck. I glanced behind me and found Damon staring at Elena and Stefan with disgust. I shook my head and let out an aggravated breath.

"Elena, you really have no clue how very wrong you are. Damon isn't going anywhere, and the tomb will be opened." I took Damon's hand and started towards the car. I turned my head back, watching my sister help Stefan stand, checking him over for injuries. "Maybe when the tomb is open, and you both see that what you should be worried about was never inside it, then we can all work together again. Because we will need to be united for what's to come." My eyes connected briefly with Stefan's, and I tried not to show precisely how saddened by his behavior I was. "Please make sure she is safe tonight. She cannot become a vampire," I said.

Elena's head shot towards me as Stefan's eyes filled with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Turning away, I allowed Damon to lead me to the car.

"You gonna explain what you meant by that?" he asked me.

I glanced up at him and shook my head. "Not until you're free of Katherine," I said, slipping into the car. I leaned against the cold glass of the window beside me and closed my eyes. Tomorrow I would be heading to the Bennett house to procure us a witch.

It was time to open the tomb.

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