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g0dspeeed · 11 months

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A River Runs Through It

In the dismal monotony of bunker life, John Seed was open to surprises, anything to break up the horrid routine he found himself in after the Collapse.

John Seed was not, however, ready for three year old River Palmer.

One would think that having an entire underground mecca of loyal followers who hung on his every word would bring the ever charismatic John Seed a never ending bounty of entertainment and indulgence.

But alas, there he was, some years later after the bombs dropped, growing dismal and insane from boredom with each passing, sunless day. He had his reasons. John couldn't tell if it was the monotony of everyday bunker life, of listless routine, or the lack of feisty Resistance to rebuke and cleanse that soured his mood, that dissolved his resolve to carry out his Baptist duties with as much zealousness and vigor as he did before the sky caught on fire and crashed down on the County. A moot point, in the end. A lot of arguments dissolved with such a conclusion: It didn't matter.

The time was well into the dark hours of the morning. At least, the large clock on the wall of the radio room said so anyway. John lounged on a tufted chair by the main radio while the rest of his Gate slept, a weathered tool from his Confession box balanced between his lithe fingers. Even sleep was too peaceful, dull and unappealing as his restless mind ran rampant with creative ways to hurt and feel something akin to newness, to scratch that existential itch.

When the radio system buzzed to life, he thought it was imaginary. It clicked a few times, before static blew harshly on the line, as if someone was breathing heavy into the receiver.

A wave of agitation washed over John, the excitement of radio contact fizzled out by Day Two. His ears smarted by the loud, abrupt noise.

But what came next, clear and undeniable across the radio, brightened the tired eyes of John Seed, more than they had in months.

"H-Hello?"

Small.

"Hel-lo!" it sing-songed.

Undeniable.

"Who's out there, huh?"

The voice of a child.

John picked up his own receiver and clicked it on.

"Hello there," he greeted, tone soft and slow.

The line buzzed again, grating on his patience until it went silent with a sharp click .

For a moment, John half-wondered if it happened at all, if he was mistaken or if finally, finally he lost his mind, that the last of his sanity slipped through like sand through the fingers.

The receiver was shut off after a long silence.

Then-

"Hi!"

John cursed and jumped at the sudden burst of salutation, the word so cheery that it forced a smile to his lips.

The receiver was picked up again.

"Hello, you," chided John. "Who is it that I'm speaking with?"

There was movement of some sort, a rustling.

"You, you have to push down on the button," John tried. "In your hand–"

"Like this?" replied the small voice.

"Sure, I can hear you. Who are you?"

A tongue clicked, followed by a giggle, musical and sweet.

"River," answered the small voice shyly. "I'm River. I'm a boy!"

"You're a boy," validated John. "You sound like it. And how old are you River?"

A thoughtful hum carried over.

"This many!"

John sighed.

"I, well, I can't see that–"

"I'm three!" River exclaimed. "My birthday is tomorrow! Are you goin'?"

His voice died in his throat as John didn't quite know how to respond. He tried again.

"Am I going to your birthday?" he parroted. "Is that what you're asking me?"

The boy breathed heavy into the receiver. John imagined that the child had it pressed right up to his mouth, covering it with spittle and germs.

"Yup!" chirped the child, an emphasis on the 'p'. "My Momma said, she said, um, she said that, that…"

John exhaled again. John steeled himself, dug deep for whatever crumb of patience was left inside his body as the child struggled to form a coherent sentence.

"Mhm?" urged the Herald. "Your Mom said what?"

"My Momma, said that I could, I could call my aunts and uncles tomorrow for my birthday. I'm gonna be four! Are you my uncle?"

John frowned.

"Am I your uncle?"

"Yeah! Who the heck are you?"

A laugh barked from his mouth as John couldn't believe that the child was so blatantly curious. So innocent. Then again, what did John know of children? True, the bunker was littered with them, but this was the longest conversation John ever had with a child, let alone via radio.

"My name is John," he shared. "Nice to meet you, River—"

"How old are you? Are you tall? My Daddy's tall."

"Mm, interesting. I'm thirty-eight–"

"Wow. That's fuckin' old."

His jaw dropped.

"I, I don't think you should be talking that way, sir—"

"You a narc?"

"Am I…Am I–Did you just ask if I'm a narc?"

Musical like a song, the boy giggled across the radio line, the sound drawing a smile across John's lips and filling him with joy like sunlight in an abandoned room.

"No, no," answered John upon finding the right words. "I promise that I'm not a narc, River. But you really shouldn't be playing with the radio. There are strangers on here. Where are your parents?"

The radio clicked and clacked. John counted down from ten.

Then, in a raspy whisper, the child shared, "Sleepin'. 'M'not supposed to be up."

"Ah," whispered John back despite himself. "Well, then you probably should go back to sleep, little one. It's late."

"I don't wanna–"

"Mm, such is life," drawled John. "Go to bed."

A whine, long and tired, ached in John's ear.

"But what if," stammered the child. "What if you miss me?"

John blinked at such a question, at how it dripped wet with sadness in only how a child could feel in the throes of big feelings. His brow furrowed, both at how the small voice pleaded and how John felt a bit of regret in his heart.

"What if I miss you?" he repeated softly back to the boy.

"Yeah, what if you, you miss me? Won't you miss me?"

His lips parted to speak, but then shut at the sudden responsibility of facilitating the child's feelings, at how John felt responsible at all. Which was odd, the uncertainty that plagued him at such a task for he was the arbiter of words for years, at the helm for the Valley's message as Baptist, as Inquisitor.

But there he was: Unmoored and scrounging for words thanks to the innocence of a three year old.

"I," chanced John. "I will miss you, River. And I hope that you have a great birthday. From your Uncle, Uncle John."

Silence followed, heavy and leaving John in the wake of his own response and how ridiculous he felt that he felt anything at all, that a few words with a child was so off-putting and at the very least entertaining.

Sensing that the conversation, as riveting as it was with little River, had drawn to a close, John moved to shut off the radio for the night.

Until, that is, it crackled again.

But rather than hear the small, bright voice of his de facto nephew, a new, sleepy one spoke in his stead.

"You know, that was actually really, really sweet."

Blue eyes widened in the low light of the radio room, the waves of his ocean eyes teeming with shock. John couldn't believe what he heard, even as she continued in a tired sigh.

"He's raving. So happy, I can't even be mad at you," shared Cappie De La Costa, voice low from sleepiness, sensual even after all those years. "You made a little boy happy, John Seed."

A second later and John was grinning.

"Are you so surprised?" he countered.

"Um, yeah?" replied Cappie. "Aren't you?"

John nodded in his bunker.

"No. Not really. I find that I'm rather charming. More surprised that the little tadpole is yours, truth be told. Didn't take long for you and the Neanderthal to get bored, hm?"

She laughed, hearty and true. John hated how much he missed the sound.

"Yeah, that's it. Eli and me were bored and thought 'Know what would be so fun? Raising a child during the Apocalypse!'. What a stupid question."

"Well, you were never great at planning."

"Mm," she hummed. "Well, shit. Got me there."

A new quiet settled in. It didn't feel as heavy as before, but like before, John was disgusted that he felt any way about it.

"He sounds awful," he blurted. Then, John added, "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"That. You're smiling. Quit it."

"Never. You never change, do you? You're still doing it–"

"Doing what?" hissed the Herald.

"That. You say mean things when you feel vulnerable."

John laughed something empty.

"I feel nothing for that child, Cappie. Your mind is the first to go when in the underground."

"Whatever you say, loser," she sighed. "But, if Eli is fine with it, would you like to speak to him on his birthday?"

John shoved down his delight.

"And why in the world what that paranoid redneck let me talk to your son?"

"Because I did. And you can't hurt us now. And because he's having to retell a bedtime story at four AM because his son won't shut up about 'Uncle John in the radio'. But it's whatever. You sounded like you were enjoying yourself."

John peered into the shadows around him. What a strange conundrum he found himself in. A moot point, in the end. A lot of arguments dissolved with such a conclusion: It didn't matter.

"I don't care," he answered. "I probably won't be around."

"Cool," replied Cappie, unaffected by his sour response. "G'night."

John didn't need to test the line to know that Cappie left him. She always was one who enjoyed getting the last word in. Petty thing. He doubted that would ever change.

He stared at the radio with bloodshot eyes, though the mind behind them was awake and processing what had just happened. A ghost, he heard one. It laughed and read him like a billboard. A poltergeist of a dead relationship made a mess of him in a few tired words and a tease.

The following day John fell into his dismal routine. He awoke, preached the Good News of the Father, carried out Cleansings, Confessions, and Atonements. The Flock hung on his sweet words, danced in the sparkle of his eyes as they had for years.

But, unlike all those other days, one of the followers approached John with a perplexed expression.

"Sir?" the man prompted. "Brother John? There's, um, someone asking for you?"

"Who?"

"Um, a little boy. On the radio, sir."

If ever asked, John reacted fine to such news. Just fine. He did not drop everything he was doing at that moment. He certainly did not cancel his sermon. He did not run to the radio room. He did not take a steadying breath to ease his racing pulse, to quell the excitement that rang in his heart like a bell as he settled in the comfy chair.

And he definitely, did not say the first thing that came to his mind upon pressing on the receiver.

"Happy Birthday, River."

#oc: cappie de la costa #oc: river palmer #john seed #fc5 fanfic #far cry 5 fanfiction

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nnightskiess · 4 years

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r e q u e s t : Hi ! How are you ? I’m so sad as to what happened with Naya she was a huge inspiration in my life and It hit me really bad But I want to ask for an imagine where you are Santana’s little sister and you come in to join the glee club and you’re better then Rachel and she starts saying stuff but you pop off on her and Santana backs you up?? If you can, sorry if it doesn’t make sense

✫彡

Y/N sat cross-legged on a chair in the back row, texting one of her friends to try and pass the time. Mr. Schuester was late, as always. Her older sister, Santana, walked in with Brittany close behind her. They sat down in the chairs in front of Y/N and turned around to the younger Lopez to engage her in their conversation.

Their conversation was cut short when a loud clap of hands and an exciting yelp, coming from no other than Rachel Berry, interrupted them. Santana immediately rolled her eyes, knowing she was about to say something stupid again.

“You guys, I have amazing news!”

Y/N groaned loudly, knowing whatever Rachel had to say would probably only have interest to Rachel herself.

“I just made up my mind on what song I’ll be singing for regionals.” She went to stand in front of the group. If she had paid close attention, she’d seen that not all of them were pleased with her statement.

“What you’ll be singing?” Y/N cocked an eyebrow when Rachel stared at her for a few seconds. “We can all sing, we’re not your ensamble.”

“Didn’t you see how much everyone loved my solo at sectionals?! I want... I mean, we want that same standing ovation for regionals!”

“Oh, hell no.”

Puck cleared his throat, looking between Y/N and Rachel. “I kind of think Little-Lopez has a point.”

“Yeah, why can’t someone else get a solo this time? Sure, you’re an amazing singer but maybe you should give someone else a... chance... for once?” Artie tried to reason with her but his voice slowly died down after seeing Rachel’s disappointed expression.

The girl looked at Y/N for a split second only to see her with her arms crossed and a sneer on her face.

“So I’m taking you guys don’t want to win regionals then? Because we won’t if we’re changing our obviously, well-oiled, brilliant plan.” She took a deep breath and scribbled the name of the song down on the whiteboard- Always Starting Over from the musical If/Then.

“Listen here, Berry.” Y/N cocked her head to one side, “That obviously, well-oiled, brilliant plan of yours makes us look like your jazz hands, dancing oompa loompa’s who are just there to try and make you look better. Well, Willy Wonka, get this- I’m done being your background furniture that you picked up along the road just because we were free to take and have piss stains all over us.”

Santana whistled proudly at the insult her younger sister had just thrown at Rachel and it earned a few hums of approval from some of the other Glee club members.

Rachel was taken back for a few seconds but regained herself and cleared her throat, “Did you forget the cheering I got after my part? Why can’t you see that that’s exactly what we need to win regionals as well?”

“Ptchh, you should get your facts checked because they weren’t cheering for you. We all know I’m the better singer out of the two of us.”

Santana crossed her arms and gave Rachel a smirk, knowing who had won this argument. Everyone knew that the sassiness that ran in the Lopez family wasn’t only given to Santana. When it came to that, the two sisters were basically carbon copies of each other.

“That is so out of line! You talk the talk but when it comes to the performance you don’t walk the walk.” Rachel pointed a finger at the younger Lopez sibling and Y/N shot up, her fists balled up in rage. She was about to lounge at Rachel until Mr. Schue walked in.

“What is happening, guys?”

“Y/N is throwing a spanner in the works of our way to end up on top at regionals.”

Mr. Schue put his bag down onto the piano and eyed the younger girl for a few seconds, silently asking her for an explanation.

Santana rolled her eyes, “Hardiharhar, don’t be so dramatic. Y/N just expressed her displeasure and put her in her place- the lowest of the low in the hierarchy, where she belongs.” She shrugged.

“Santana.” Was all that Mr. Schuester said before turning to Rachel, who pointed to the song written down on the whiteboard.

“I’ve practiced this song for months and I think regionals is the right moment to finally sing it and show them what I got.”

He nodded, “Wow, If/Then is a great musical. Are you sure you can handle this song?”

Rachel nodded enthusiastically.

“Very well then!” He turned to the group, “I think we just found our first song for regionals.” He smiled his goofy smile. Mercedes and Kurt looked at each other before rolling their eyes while Quinn sighed and sank into her chair.

Santana furrowed her eyebrows again and shook her head in disbelief, hoping she didn’t just hear him say that.

“Um...hello?” She waved her arms around until Mr. Schue looked at her. “Okay, good! You do see us! For a second I thought you completely forgot about the rest of us existing.”

Mr. Schue sighed and looked down before eyeing his students, “Listen, I know everyone here works very hard, and each of you has an amazing and unique voice, but for now I think that we should just let Rachel sing the solo at regionals. However, that doesn’t mean that I render any of you unworthy of taking the lead another time. You will all get to sing a part in the second song, I promise.”

“How’s that fair? We didn’t even get a chance to tell you what we would like to sing or show you what we got.” Mercedes spoke up.

“Rachel practices every day. She deserves to sing.” Finn shrugged.

“No one asked you, Finn.” Y/N shot at the boy, who widened his eyes in response. “You don’t have a leg to stand on in this discussion, we all know you will probably get the male lead.”

Y/N then turned back to Mr. Schue. “Everyone knows Rachel is your favourite and I’m sick of it. You treat her like she’s the best thing since sliced bread.”

“That’s not true. I don’t do favourites.”

“Yes, you do. You clearly favourite that vest because it’s all you’ve been wearing for the past two weeks.” Santana shrugged.

Mr. Schuester rubbed his temple. Having to deal with not only one, but two Lopez girls was making him age faster. Especially at times when they let their minds run rampant.

Y/N crossed her arms. “I signed up for Glee club, not for ‘Sing-And-Smile-In-The-Background-Of-The-Rachel-Berry-Show’ club. Half the time, we’re not even on stage during her songs.”

“Wait, does that club exist?” Brittany mumbled under her breath.

“Guys, when have I ever steered you wrong? Please, trust me on this.” Mr. Schuester placed his hand on his heart.

“I think you’re just jealous.” Rachel’s tone was challenging as she sat down next to Finn.

Y/N shot up again.

“Yes, you might know how to sing, but you’ll never be able to leave the audience as impressed as I ever will.”

Santana now shot up as well.

“Qué acabas de decirme?” (What did you just say to me?)

Both girls made a move to lounge at Rachel but Quinn, Mike and Sam held them back. They struggled to do so while Y/N threw all the Spanish insults she knew at the girl in front of her.

“Enough!” Mr. Schuester tried but his voice didn’t stand out in the chaotic yelling. He sighed before clearing his throat.

“I want you both out.” He directed to the two sisters.

“Now!”

Everyone fell silent and it seemed to do the trick. Y/N slowly turned to him. Mr. Schue had a stern look on his face while he glared at the siblings. He kept pointing at the door.

“Fine.” Y/N grabbed her backpack, waited for Santana to dust herself off and grab her belongings too.

“You know what? I could use a break.” Santana huffed as both of them walked out of the room. Their heads held high, no dignity lost over what just happened.

They walked to the football bleachers where Santana immediately lit up a sigaret.

“Do you think he kicked us out... permanently?”

It was times like these, when it was only the two of them, where Y/N still depended on her older sister.

“Maybe.” Santana shrugged her shoulders, “If he can’t appreciate having you in the club then that’s his loss.”

Santana gave Y/N a playful nudge with her shoulder when the younger Lopez still seemed deep in thought. Y/N looked up to see Santana’s soft smile and she immediately sent her a goofy smile back.

“They can’t go to regionals without us. And if they do find a way, we’ll just have to start our own Glee club, huh?” She smirked. “I’m sure it won’t take long before Mercedes is sick of it as well.” She comforted her little sister.

“Yeah, but what will we do in the meantime?”

Santana furrowed her eyebrows, wanting Y/N to elaborate.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this- but I actually really like Glee club and I was pretty excited for regionals.”

Santana nodded, “I know you do. I can see it in your eyes when you sing.” She took another drag of her sigaret. “Between you and me, I enjoy singing in Glee club as well.”

Y/N nodded softly and brought her legs close to her body so she could let her chin rest on her knees.

“San?”

Her sister hummed in return.

“Was Rachel right?” She looked up at Santana, “Am I really not giving that good of a performance?”

“Baby, no.” Santana gave her a stern look, telling her not to go there. “You might’ve only done one couplet by yourself so far... but even in the songs where you sing background vocals, you manage to outshine the rest.”

“But there must be a reason why I haven’t got the chance to lead a song yet.”

“Yup. And that reason is Rachel, dwarf, Berry.” Santana shrugged. “You know I’d tell you if you sucked.”

Y/N laughed at that, Santana so would.

“If Mr. Schue isn’t letting us show him what we got, then we have to come up with another way to get through that head of his how capable you are of leading a song.”

Santana suddenly stood up, put out her sigaret with her shoe and motioned for Y/N to take her hand.

It was a few days later and neither Santana or Y/N had attended Glee club after what happened on Monday. Rachel had made herself very clear to Y/N that she was very disappointed in her since Y/N’s jealousy caused the club to not be able to partake in regionals. Brittany had tried convince the two girls to join Glee club again with a clumsily, selfmade powerpoint and even Finn had kindly asked them to reconsider going back. But they simply couldn’t, at least not just yet.

But now that it was Friday, everything was ready to go.

The two Lopez girls decided to wait a few minutes until everyone was present before they walked into the room. Mr. Schue stopped talking and turned around, a disappointed look on his face.

“We’re not here for a pity-party and we’re definitely not walking in with our tails tucked between our legs,” Santana started as a few band members shyly shuffled their way into the room, instruments in hand.

“We just want to show you that we are fully capable of leading a song.” Y/N spoke as she shoo’d everyone to the side.

“Hit it.”

[glee performance of tina turner’s ‘river deep, mountain high’, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=82lYMlXB-fI ]

Rachel seemed unsettled during the performance, clearly noticing how everyone else was enjoying the two sisters sing. Mr. Schue, who had seem hesitant at first, was now visibly entertained and impressed and had already long forgotten what happened a few days earlier. Rachel sunk further into her seat when she noticed that.

Everyone knew the Lopez girls both had beautiful voices, but that they would sound so well together was news to them all. Mr. Schue now realised what a shame it was that he had never explored letting different kids sing together, and that all his attention had always been on the same people.

What topped the performance off, was the excitement in the sisters’ eyes. They were clearly having fun with the song and their minds seemed to have no memory of why they originally decided to perform. It was just them and the music they danced and sang along to.

But when the band played the last melodies, they suddenly seemed to remember and turned back around to the group with proud smirks on their faces.

On the last note, Santana held her hand up for her sister to high five.

Everyone started clapping and Mr. Schuester stood up, walking up to them.

“Ladies! That was fantastic!” He gave Y/N a pat on her shoulder. “Now that is how you sing a song! Well done!”

Rachel silently clapped along. She would never say out loud how much she had enjoyed their performance.

“I’m sorry, Rachel, but now that I’ve seen this-” Mr. Schue rubbed his chin, “I want to try a different approach at regionals. This is what will get the crowd’s attention!”

He turned to Rachel, an apologetic look on his face, “Do you mind giving your solo to Santana and Y/N?”

Rachel shrugged absentmindedly, trying to make it seem like she didn’t care, “It’s healthy to have some competition. It will push me to become a better performer.”

Mr. Schue nodded and turned back to the Lopez girls.

“Congratulations, you two. It’s yours!”

Everyone clapped again until Santana spoke up.

“No, no, no. I’m backing out.”

“W-why?” Confusion was written all over Mr. Schue’s face. “I thought it’s what you two wanted?"

“What I wanted was for you to realise that there are other people capable of leading a performance.” She turned to her sister, who had been confused at Santana’s decision up until now. “People like Y/N, for example. You take it. I know you can do it without me.”

Y/N tried to convince her otherwise, “But you’ve never had a solo either! We should-”

“Uh, uh.” Santana waved her finger, “I want you to take it.”

The two had a little face off for a few seconds, it was their way of talking to each other without words. Santana cocked her head to the side, knowing Y/N was about to give in.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

Santana smiled widely, grabbed her sister and planted a kiss on her head.

“I’ll always back you up.”

She winked at Y/N before the two of them went to sit down, ready for today’s Glee club.

#santana lopez imagine #santana lopez x reader #santana lopez / you #santana lopez one shot #santana lopez #naya rivera imagine #naya rivera imagines #santana lopez imagines #naya rivera x reader #glee imagine #glee imagines #glee x reader #glee preferences #glee one shot

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zozee122-2 · 3 years

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The War Ends at Dusk: Chapter 1

It has been six years since the prologue. Blake and Yang moved into a home Taiyang and Yang built on Patch. Blake and Yang traveled Remnant after defeating Salem and got married two years after the war ended. After their marriage they decided to settle down and start a family. Blake works as a part time huntress and has worked to reform the white fang that she and Sun are a part of. Yang is also a part time huntress and in her free time helps people in the community (doing odd jobs and such) and has a garden. Dusk goes to school and loves his mothers very much and has a great relationship with his Aunts Ruby and Weiss. Ruby is still working to end the experimentation on silver eyed people. This is where the story begins.WC: 5,019

She ran until her lungs were screaming in pain, not like she was able to run before. Her red cat tail flicked anxiously as she slowed to a walk. She took several deep breaths and turned in the direction she came from. She closed her eyes and strained to listen; she could not hear any running footsteps. Perhaps they gave up. There were probably 50 more people who were more important than her, they could stand to lose one, she thought. The young girl decided to rest, a bit further from her, the girl could see tall blades of grass she decided that it would be a perfect spot to hide from any trackers that may have been following her. Her feet ached and her growling stomach pushed her to find some area to rest in. But then again, she thought, anywhere would be better than a cage.

…

“My, oh my, don’t you look lovely today!” Yang whispered, “Nice and plump. Ready to eat!” Yang smiled happily and got down on her knees. Nothing wrong with getting a little dirty, she thought as she reached to grab fresh cucumbers. “That should do nicely for lunch.” She said standing back up. Yang stood and wiped some sweat off her brow, she looked across her garden to the thick forestry area that surrounded her and Blake’s house. Blake had feared that predators would come to try to come to raid their garden or at the worst come and hurt Dusk. Yang had reassured her that no predator would come so close to a house, and thanks to a huntsman academy being nearby, Grimm would not be in so heavily populous. Though, Yang and Blake kept it in the back of their mind that perhaps one day they would have to protect their son and their home, but that day has yet to come. Though with that last thought Yang turned quickly at the sound of rustling.

“Seriously?” she whispered, “Is anyone there?” Yang put the cucumbers in her gardening basket and made her way through their lush garden, she cursed herself for not leaving a weapon feature on her prosthetic, but Blake encouraged that she had one without it for home life.

“Hello?” she said once she got to an area with tall grass, a part of land she and Blake did not own. Suddenly a long crimson cat tail peaked out of the grass and more sounds of scurrying.

Yang gasped, “Hey, wait where are you going?” she took longer steps with more confidence knowing that it wasn’t an animal. The scurrying stopped and Yang lowered down to a crouch. She moved some grass out of the way and her eyes widened as to what she saw. A little girl with hair red as the rising sun, a horribly thin body, clothed in dirty rags, scratches, but the most defining feature was the girls large round silver eyes. The girl stood quickly and turned to run but tripped over her own feet. Yang quickly rushed to the girl’s side.

“Are you alright, sweetie?” Yang asked reaching her hand out. Yang couldn’t help but notice the girl’s cuts on her face and arms as the girl reached a protective hand out in front of her. “It’s okay. My name is Yang, would you like some help? I promise I will never hurt you.” The girl flicked her cat tail in contemplation.

“Are you hungry? My wife just made lunch back at our house,” she said pointing towards the house. The girl followed her finger and made a thoughtful face. Yang turned back to face the girl, smiling sweetly. The girl studied Yang’s face, noticing a small scar across her lip, plenty of freckles, laugh lines, and the kindest eyes the girl has ever seen. The girl decided that this woman was speaking true, so she reached out her hand to Yang’s. Yang took the small girl’s hand and made their way back to the house. After passing the grassy field, Yang took a second look at the girl. She couldn’t be any older than Dusk, but she was probably half his size, her small body was covered in bruises and dirt, and her hair reached her low back in tendrils. Yang did not want to think about where this girl could have come from, her mind feared the worse. She needed to call Ruby.

…

“Mommy, when is Momma coming back with the cucumbers? I am hungry” Dusk pleaded swinging his legs from his chair, patiently as much as a six-year-old could for his lunch. Blake turned from her place at the counter where she was mixing tuna salad to look out the kitchen window.

“I am not sure, cub. Maybe she is having trouble finding the perfect cucumbers for us.” Blake responded reassuringly. Dusk huffed at her response, even though he was more patient than any other kid she met, he was still a kid. She came over to him and rubbed a spot between his cat ears. “Sorry, love. Want to go and check on her with me?” she asked planting a kiss between his ears. Dusk’s ears flicked in excitement.

“Yeah!”

Before Dusk could get out of his chair, Yang opened the front door. Blake and Dusk’s ears perked at the sudden noise and turned, “Momma! Did you pick good cucumbers for us?” Dusk stood on his chair, but quickly turned to Blake upon seeing the unfamiliar person next to his mother. “Mommy, who is that girl?” Dusk asked grabbing hold of Blake’s t-shirt. Blake took his hand and stood before her son.

“Yang?” Blake asked giving her wife a questioning look.

The girl hid behind Yang’s leg. “Um, I found her in the grass field, just pass the cucumbers, and yes, dragon cub I picked some cucumbers. Though, I’ll have to retrieve the basket, I dropped it on our way here.”

Dusk nodded, happy with his mother’s answer, while Blake stood idly by still staring questioningly at her wife.

“Do you want a tuna fish sandwich? Mommy makes the best tuna fish sandwiches, and Momma puts in the secret ingredient in! Cucumbers!” Dusk jumped down from his seat to get a better look at the girl, his cheeks turning red from heat. The girl came out from behind Yang’s leg and nodded to Dusk.

Dusk laughed and ran a hand through his long, wavy hair. “Come on you can sit by me!” quickly he ducked around Yang’s legs and took the girl’s hand. Dusk pulled the girl to the seat next to his. He clambered up to his seat and watched her climb into hers. Blake and Yang stared at their son and the peculiar little girl who smiled at Dusk warmly. Satisfied that her son was not going to be hurt by the mysterious little girl, Blake shot Yang an alarmingly stern look. Yang got the message and quickly made her way to Blake’s side. The pair walked closer to the kitchen counter tops and whispered in each other’s ears.

“Yang, who is she?” Blake asked first.

Yang rubbed her arm and sighed, “I’m not sure, Sunflower.” Yang looked behind her shoulder to look at the two children. Dusk was regaling the girl with probably some fantastical story of his own creation. Yang smiled and turned back to Blake. Blake peered into Yang’s eyes, “You noticed her eyes though, right?”

Blake bit her lower lip and ran a hand through her inky, black hair. “They are not easy to miss.” Blake sighed, “And look at how beat up she is, did you notice the wound on her ankle?”

Yang turned again to face the kids, the table opposite the counter tops. The kids were still entertaining each other, well mostly Dusk was entertaining her. Yang looked the girl up and down again. Seeing the girl’s ankle, a circular wound made its mark on the small girl. Yang let out an audible gasp. Her mind ran rampant, fearing the worse was true; the girl had escaped a silver eyed experimentation laboratory. Dusk turned to look at Yang, his ears flicked with surprise at his mother’s gasp.

“Are you okay, Momma? Are you hungry?” Dusk asked sweetly.

Yang smiled at her son; he was so kind. “I’m okay, my sweet dragon cub. I am hungry. Let me finish talking to Mommy, and we can finish making lunch.”

Blake kissed Yang’s cheek, and whispered in her ear “After lunch, I’ll call Weiss, you call Ruby.”

Yang glanced at her and nodded, “Alright, kiddos let me grab those cucumbers and we can have lunch.”

Yang walked out of the front door and Blake turned to fill up some glasses with lemonade. Blake sighed, a part of her did not want to meddle in the girl’s affairs, but Blake couldn’t bear to send the poor girl away. She couldn’t imagine what the poor thing went through, and she was a faunas. Blake felt conflicted as she sat down across from the girl, her little body shuddering, her cheeks hollow from hunger. The girl looked up at Blake, her large silver eyes looking up at Blake’s tall cat ears.

“Mommy, we are all cat faunaes. Isn’t that neat?” Dusk chuckled his cheeks glowing red

Blake nodded, “Fauna, and that is a coincidence isn’t it Dusk?” Blake leaned forward on her arm. Dusk nodded and took sip from his cup. The girl watched him gulp and she looked at her own cup pensively. Dusk looked at her.

“Have you ever had lemonade before? It’s my favorite drink, and it’s yellow my favorite color!” Dusk asked licking his lips from the tart liquid.

The girl shook her head which made Dusk frown, “That’s not right,” he said shaking his head his floppy hair flowing with it, “Go ahead, take a drink. I promise it is delicious. That’s a Xiao Long-Belladonna promise” he crossed his pointer finger over his heart. Blake smiled thinking he must have seen it on a movie, or something he saw Yang do. The girl smiled and took the cup in both of her hands. She brought the glass to her lips and took a small sip. Blake did not think her eyes could get any wider, she took a bigger sip and soon the drink was gone.

Dusk smiled and did the same thing.

Yang walked back in through the front door, “Alrighty who is hungry?” she gallantly walked in eyeing the trio at the table. “Drinking all of my lemonade, are we?”

Dusk laughed, “No, we saved you some. Right, Mommy?”

Yang passed by Dusk and tussled his hair as he giggled, “Well, I appreciate that, Dusk.”

Blake got up from her seat and took the basket of cucumbers from Yang. Blake kissed Yang, then bent down to smooth Dusk’s hair and kiss him atop his head.

“Thank you, Sunshine, these look lovely.” Blake moved from the pair to the sink to wash the vegetables to cut and put in their tuna fish lunch.

Yang blushed and sat at her seat across from Dusk. “Ahh, I have been thinking about these sandwiches all day. Perfect lunch for summer, right guys?” she asked taking a slow sip from her glass.

Blake hummed and began chopping up the vegetables and finished making the sandwiches. She plated them and put them in front of each person.

“Thank you, Momma and Mommy! Camille and I are super hungry.”

Yang and Blake stopped midbite to look at their son as the kids began eating their sandwiches quickly.

“Camille?” Yang asked looking to Blake then to Dusk.

Dusk looked at his mothers like they were the ones who were not in the know, his eyebrow raised out of sight. “Uh, yeah. That is her name she told me.”

Blake and Yang glanced at each other as if to say, ‘I haven’t heard her speak at all, have you?’

“Cub, when did,” Blake took a slight pause and looked at the girl who was staring at her feet, “Camille tell you this?”

Dusk took another bite of his sandwich and swallowed quickly, “She didn’t tell me, like talking. Camille told me in my mind.”

Blake and Yang raised their eyebrows and looked at each other again in shock.

Dusk looked between his mothers and became flustered. “I am telling the truth, Mommy, Momma. I swear.” He pleaded, his ears lowering to his head.

Blake turned to him, “Of course we believe you, Dusk.” Blake reassured him reaching for his hand. Dusk’s ear perked up again and took Blake’s hand in his. Blake gave it a small squeeze.

“Camille, can you talk to people in your mind?” Yang asked looking towards the girl.

Camille raised her eyes to Yang’s and nodded so hard Yang thought her head would pop off.

‘I can, Mrs. Xiao-Long Belladonna’ Camille shot to Yang.

Yang gasped and stood up.

“Yang?” Blake took her wife’s hand.

‘She’s okay, Mrs. Blake’ Camille shot to Blake.

Blake pulled Yang down back to her seat and quickly whispered, “We need to call them now.”

Yang nodded in agreement, “Dusk, Camille, can you finish your sandwiches here? Dusk when you both are finished, take your plate and Camille’s to the sink, please.”

Dusk took a bite and gave Yang a thumbs up.

Yang and Blake went to the living room and picked up both of their scrolls.

“Would she unlock her semblance at that young of an age? She is probably Dusk’s age.” Blake asked Yang dialing Weiss’ number.

Yang breathed in, “I don’t know, Blake. I didn’t unlock my semblance until I was eleven, but I was a late bloomer. Ruby unlocked hers early, but she was like eight.” Yang hit Ruby’s name in her contacts.

Blake nodded, “I unlocked my aura early, but I didn’t use my semblance until I was 14 or so.”

Weiss answered first. “Blake? Hi! How are you? How’s Yang and Dusk?”

Blake ran a hand through her hair, “Weiss, we are fine. Yang found a little girl today. She has silver eyes and a wound on her ankle. It looks like it’s from a chain.” Blake heard Weiss curse silently. Blake knew she had a lot on her plate already and she can see Weiss clutch her eyebrows.

“Hmm, well Ruby or I haven’t heard anything about a lab being in Patch, but she might have come from a group of escapees.” Weiss sighed again and Blake heard her tapping on her computer quickly. “I can come tomorrow, since it is Saturday, and I am free. Ruby and Jaune are still on a mission in Northern Vale. I am not sure when they can come and investigate. However, I will come tomorrow. Does she need clothes, do you need anything for her?”

Blake looked toward the table, they had both finished their sandwiches and Dusk was showing her his missing front tooth.

“Yes, some clothes please. She is not quite Dusk’s size, but is close enough, or will hopefully grow into them.” She heard Weiss mutter something to herself, “Weiss, there is one more thing. She has already unlocked her semblance and she can’t be older than Dusk.”

“What? Really?” Weiss sounded shocked, but in fairness they all were. “It’s not uncommon, but that is incredibly rare. There must have been some type of trauma that allowed her to unlock it so early, but that would make sense if we are right if she came from a lab.”

Blake sighed, she couldn’t imagine what Camille had gone through. “Yes, I wondered that. Thank you, Weiss we really appreciate it.”

“Well, you’re welcome, it is my job after all, and I don’t need an excuse to see my favorite boy.”

Want to talk to him?” Blake turned to Dusk and gestured for him to come.

“Is that even a question? Put my nephew on the phone!”

Dusk climbed out of his seat and Camille followed him.

“Is that Aunty Weiss, Mommy?” Dusk asked coming up to Blake’s leg.

Blake nodded and handed him the scroll. He took it in his little hands and his cheeks glowed with excitement.

“Camille, talk to Aunty Weiss with me!” he turned to her, his smile beaming. “Hi, Aunty Weiss! Me and Camille are here.”

Blake could here Weiss coddle him through the call as she walked over to Yang.

…

“Hey, Yang doing alright? You’re lucky you called now, Jaune and I are taking a break.” Ruby said through the scroll.

“Heya, sis. Yes, we are doing fine. Though, I need to tell you something important.”

Ruby could hear the urgency in Yang’s voice, “What is it, Yang?”

Yang took a deep breath. “Ruby, I found a girl with silver eyes in the forest today. She looks like she escaped from a lab. She has a mark from a chain.”

Ruby stayed quiet on the other line for a minute, then sighed “Shit, I thought Patch was free. I didn’t think there would be enough silver eyed people to form a lab there. For all I knew Mom and I were the only ones there. But I can come and investigate later this month. Probably in a couple of weeks. I can’t leave this mission on Jaune’s hands. Is there anything else about her?”

Yang bit her lip, “Well, she told Dusk her name is Camille by telling him through her semblance, telekinesis like Fox’s.”

“Semblance? Already? I mean, some people unlock their semblance through trauma. I would say for now not to discuss it with her. Focus on making her comfortable with you all. It might have been a way to communicate with the other captives, a traumatic thing.” Ruby concluded, and Yang heard the wisdom in her sister’s voice, “Sounds good, Ruby. Blake, Dusk, and I will take good care of her.”

Ruby laughed, “I am sure you will. Dusk is an excellent host. Sorry, Yang, I must go now. I love you all and will talk to you again as soon as I am able.”

“Love you too, sis. Stay safe. Tell Jaune, hi for us.”

“Course, Yang. Talk soon.”

Yang sighed as she put her phone back in her pocket. She rubbed her eyes and looked back to Blake who was motioning for Dusk.

…

“Hmm, well at least Weiss can come tomorrow. For now, let’s just make sure she’s comfortable. Maybe a bath and bandage for her ankle.” Blake sighed leaning into Yang’s arms. Yang kissed her forehead and hugged her tightly. Yang looked past Blake’s shoulder to see Dusk still on the phone with Weiss. He and Camille were both sitting on the couch, Dusk’s legs kicking above the floor while Camille leaned sleepily on the cushions.

Yang squeezed Blake’s arm lovingly, “Sunflower, we should discuss sometime what we should do for her.”

Blake nodded and looked up to Yang, “I know, though I think we should wait to hear what Weiss says. For now, let’s just let her stay in the guest room. Dusk seems to be quite taken to her as well.”

“I agree, at least for now,” Yang said, though Blake could tell what her wife was thinking. They have been talking about having a second child.

“Can you clean up lunch? I’ll draw a bath for Camille and ready the guest room for her.”

“Yes, of course. I bought new bubble bath soap for Dusk the other day. I think it’s lemon scented.” Yang said and kissed Blake lovingly.

“His favorite.” Blake smiled.

Yang chuckled and turned to the living room, “Kids, I think it’s time to say goodbye to Aunty Weiss. She will be here tomorrow for a visit.”

Dusk shot up from his seat making Camille flinch, “Really? Aunty Weiss you did not tell me.” He said and stomped his foot angrily.

“Dusk, is that anyway to talk to somebody? And apologize to Camille, please you scared her.”

Dusk’s ears lowered, “I’m sorry for scaring you, Camille, and I’m sorry for yelling at you Aunty.”

Yang came up to Dusk and patted his back, “Good job apologizing, Dusk thank you.”

Dusk smiled up to her, “Okay, Aunty Weiss, I have to go now, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait, Dusky boy. I love you. Can you hand the phone back to your Mommy?”

Blake came to Dusk’s side, and he handed her back the scroll. Yang passed them to work on cleaning up.

“So, I can be there tomorrow around 10:30. Is that okay with you, Blake?” Weiss asked.

Blake sat on the couch next to Dusk, “Yes, that should work. We will see you tomorrow, Weiss. Bye-bye.”

“Bye, Blake.” Weiss ended.

Blake looked to Camille, who seemed to have calmed down from her scare. “Camille, how does a bubble bath sound?”

Dusk looked at Camille waiting for her answer.

A soft voice answered, “What is that?”

Dusk was quick to answer while Blake was still contemplating on how Camille has probably never been cleaned with a bath before.

“Well, you’re in a tub of warm water, and bubbly bubbles that make you smell really good. You take a bath because you need to get clean.” Dusk rambled on quickly, “I take a bubble bath almost every night. Mommy and Momma help me get clean and Momma tells me huntress stories. Then you get in your pajamas and go to sleep. It is the best feeling ever.” Dusk finished and began to run up the stairs.

“Cub, where are you going?” Blake called.

“I’m picking out pajamas for Camille! A bath is not complete without pajamas!”

Blake smiled at her son’s generosity then turned back to Camille.

“Well? Camille, would you like a bath?” Blake asked.

Camille looked to where Dusk had gone and to Blake. Blake could almost see the girls thought process.

“Yes. Sounds good.” She replied taking Blake’s hand.

Camille and Blake walked up the stairs and Blake checked quickly in Dusk’s room. He was rifling through his drawers.

“You will put all of those things away, right, Dusk?” she asked, motherly tone activated.

Dusk turned sheepishly around, “Yes, Mommy.”

Blake smiled, “Thank you, Cub.”

Blake led Camille to the bathroom, “May I pick you up?” Blake asked the small girl.

Camille looked to Blake with her big, silver eyes. “Yes.”

Blake lifted Camille and took note as to how much of a difference Dusk and Camille weighed. Blake set her down on the bathroom countertop. “Let’s see here. I am going to clean your wounds first, okay?”

Camille nodded.

Blake bent down to take the first aid kit out from the bathroom cabinet. She disinfected the harsh wound on Camille’s ankle which earned a couple of hisses. Blake calmly soothed her, “It is okay, little one, I know it stings.” Blake then moved up to her arms and face quickly working. After she was done, she heard a small knock. “Mommy, Camille? May I come in?”

“Yes, Dusk come in.” Blake replied putting the first aid kit back.

Dusk opened the door and presented pajamas to Camille.

“Here, Camille. I got too big for these ones, so you can have them. Aunty Weiss gave them to me, and they are super soft.” Dusk handed Camille the light blue set of pajamas with little snowflakes adorning them. Camille smiled at him shaking her tail happily as she took them.

“Thank you, Dusk.” Camille said clutching the gift to her chest. Dusk beamed from ear to ear, his cheeks turning red.

“You are very welcome,” he said balancing on the balls of his feet, “Can I go watch TV now, Mommy?”

Blake kissed his cheek, “Yes, sweetheart.”

Dusk clapped his hands together, “Camille when you are done come watch TV with me! We can watch HuntsMan and Super Zwei!”

Camille nodded and smiled.

After Dusk left the room, Blake filled the bath with warm water and made sure to add plenty of soap. She took out a fresh towel and a washcloth from the cupboard and helped Camille get into the tub. Camille squirmed around at first, her body getting used to the new sensation, but eventually succumbed to the warm water and the gentle scent of lemons. Blake was gentle to scrub her small body and to mind all of the scratches on Camille’s body.

“Camille,” Blake eventually asked, “Where did you come from?”

Camille’s body tensed and she huddled her knees close to her small frame, her body instinctively turning away from Blake’s gentle touch.

“Bad place. Scary place.” She whispered.

Blake reached out her hand and touched Camille’s head. Camille flinched at first but calmed as she felt Blake’s hand stroke her hair.

“Camille, Yang and I promise that nothing bad will ever happen to you again. We will do everything we can to protect you.” Blake said defiantly, surprised at her own words for a moment but her motherly, protective instinct got the better of her.

Camille turned, eyes moist with tears, “Thank you.” She replied.

Blake finished giving Camille a thorough bath and helped her change into her new pajamas which were a tad bit big for her, but Camille did not seem to mind. Blake towel dried Camille’s hair and grabbed a brush.

“Let’s go downstairs. You can watch TV with Dusk while I brush your hair.”

Camille nodded and followed Blake downstairs.

Dusk and Yang were sitting on the couch both sets of eyes glued to the screen as HuntsMan was facing off with his toughest emissary.

“Make some room, you, guys.” Blake said leading Camille to the couch.

Yang scooted over and brought Dusk with her to sit in her lap.

“Wow, those pajamas look great on you, kiddo.” Yang said.

Dusk turned his head from the TV, “Yeah! I knew they would look good on Camille!”

Blake sat down next to Yang and motioned for Camille to sit in between her legs.

Camille looked curiously at Blake for a moment but sat.

Blake began to brush through knots as gently as she could, but Camille’s hair had probably never seen a brush.

“This might hurt a bit, sorry.” Blake said gently combing through Camille’s hair.

“It’s okay.” Camille replied.

Yang looked at Blake, she hadn’t heard her speak yet. Blake shrugged and gave Yang a knowing look.

After Blake finished brushing her hair, Camille joined the three of them on the couch perching herself next to a throw pillow, her eyes heavy.

Blake saw this and asked, “Would you like to go to bed, Camille? I bet you have had a long day.”

Camille nodded sleepily. “Okay, I’ll go set up the guest room for you. Yang, I’ll call when it is ready for her.”

Blake walked up the stairs but was stopped by Dusk pulling her shirt. “Wait, Mommy. I’ll help too.”

Blake smiled, “Of course, Cub.”

Dusk passed her on the stairs and went to his room, “I have something for Camille to help her sleep.”

Blake followed him, and to her surprise Dusk had put away all of the clothes he had previously tossed out. “Oh, yeah? What is it?”

Dusk rummaged around his toy bin for a moment and pulled something out. It was a crimson-colored stuffed cat. “This! I don’t play with it anymore, and Camille does not have any stuffed animals. I have my dragon, so Camille can have this one to sleep with.” He said showing off the toy like a trophy.

“Oh, Dusk. Have I ever told you that you are the world’s sweetest boy?” Blake asked bending down to give him a hug.

Dusk giggled as he reached his hand up to her bobbed hair, something he has done since a baby, “Hmm, maybe once or twice.”

Blake scooped him up as she stood, “Hah, and I see you inherited all of my charm and sass too.” She said lovingly bumping her head with his. Dusk smiled again and hugged her tighter pressing the side of his face on hers.

“Okay, my Cub, let’s set up the room for Camille.”

“Yang? We are ready!” Blake called from upstairs.

Yang stood up and stretched, her prosthetic humming slightly, “Okay, love we will be up shortly.”

Camille had a hard time trying to stay awake but perked up at Blake’s call.

“Would you like me to carry you?” Yang asked turning towards her.

Camille looked at the kind lilac eyes, “Yes.” She replied raising her arms up. Yang smiled and took her up to her body. ‘So light’ she thought and walked up the stairs to the guest room. Blake was sitting on the bed and Dusk was holding something behind his back. Blake stood to pull back the covers as Yang placed the small girl in. Yang pulled the covers up to Camille’s chin and the small girl settled deep within the soft bed.

“Wait,” Dusk appeared between Blake and Yang, “I have something for you, Camille. To help you sleep and it will protect you from bad dreams.” Blake picked him up and placed him on the high bed. He pulled his hands from behind his back and presented Camille with the stuffed cat. “See? She looks just like you.” Dusk said handing the present to Camille. Blake rubbed the small of Yang’s back as the mothers looked proudly on at the sight.

Camille took the toy from Dusk and hugged it to her chest. Dusk smiled and slinked off the bed.

“I knew you would like it,” Dusk said raising his arms proudly.

Camille smiled at him, “I love her. Thank you Dusk.”

Dusk smiled and giggled.

“Okay, Dusk. I think it is time to let Camille rest, she is very tired.” Yang said placing a hand on his shoulder.

Dusk looked up at Yang and then to Blake, “Okay, Momma. I’m going to go play on my tire swing outside.”

Blake nodded and let Dusk slip pass them.

“Camille,” Blake said quietly, “Yang and I will be downstairs if you need anything, alright?”

Camille nodded her eyes finally giving away to exhaustion.

“Sleep well, Camille.” Yang said as she and the love of her life left Camille’s room.

#blake belladonna #yang xiao long #bumblebabies #bumbleby #rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #bb family #rwby au #rwby fanfiction

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reddrobins · 4 years

Text

damians happiness [d.wayne]

Older! Damian Wayne x Reader

Summary: The batboys begin to notice a shift in Damians behavior. Being the detectives they are, they decide to find out what could possibly could be bringing the demon child happiness.

“I’m worried.” was all Dick said when he made his way into the large kitchen.

Tim picked his head up from his computer, a look of confusion plastered on his face, “About?” The teen asked.

Dick leaned against the far countertop, looking at his younger brother. “Damian.”

Though Tim and Damians relationship had never been peachy, some part of him still cared for Damian, so he continued, “Is he okay?”

“Yes.” Dick said, waving his hands, “That's why I’m worried! He’s not his angsty self anymore, Tim!” Then he dropped his voice to a whisper, “I saw him smiling yesterday.”

Tim spit out his coffee. Damian? Smiling? “What? How? When? Does Bruce know?”

Dick passed his brother a paper towel and then shrugged, “I don’t know why or how or whatever, All I know is that somethings up.”

While wiping the spill, Tim bit his lip in contemplation, “Should we ask him? Like just in case he’s being mind controlled or under some toxin or something?”

The older son nodded, “Look, normally I wouldn’t spy on any of you, but this is worrying. I'm just thinking, maybe tomorrow we hang out with him. Forge it as some brotherly time and just see how he acts. A little recon mission.”

“Should we get Jason in on this?”

Dick shook his head, “No can do. Said he was on a mission with Roy and the gang.”

“Bruce?” Tim then suggested.

“Not yet. We’ll tell him if things get bad, don't want to bring too much attention to operation Annie.”

Tim quirked an eyebrow, “Operation Annie?”

Dick shrugged, “Yeah, you know, like orphan Annie. She's like always singing about how tomorrow will be happy and stuff.” At the look on Tims face, Dick rolled his eyes, “Whatever, I don't normally come up with mission names… Leave me alone idiot.”

Tim grinned and having nothing better to do the next day, agreed to his brother's plot.

“I’m telling you, beloved, that a single bad mark isn't going to stop you from getting into Metropolis University.” Damian said into the phone, “Plus, if it just so happens to halt your admission, tell them you're dating Bruce Wayne's son.”

You laughed on the other side of the phone, “Dames, I am not using you as a way to get into college. That's just wrong.”

The teen vigilante shrugged, “They would be imbeciles to not let you admit anyway. It would be their loss.” Then, “And my love, why do you even want to go to Metropolis? Its so far away…”

“Aw,” You teased, “Will a certain boy miss me?”

Damian scoffed, “Obviously. The days are long and boring without my beloved.”

Blushing, you asked him, “Enough about me. What are your plans after this semester?”

Damian thought about what graduation meant for him. Full time as Robin. Was the only thing to come to his head. Of course though, he couldn't just say that to you. He hadn't mentioned that part of his life yet.

“Most likely boring business meetings.” The wayne teen said glumly, “Of course if you were to come work for my father…” He trailed off.

“Damian, I told you. I would love to but I already have my heart set on the Daily Planet.”

The stupid Daily Planet. That had been your dream since your eleventh grade journalism class. Damian didn't know why you had settled on somewhere as far as Metropolis, He thought the Gotham Gazette was just as commendable.

“I know, I will just miss you my love.”

You laughed at his neediness, “Dami, I will still talk to you daily. We have phones you know.”

“I know, it's just not-” A knock sounded at his door, “One minute (Y/N), someone is calling for me.”

Damian got off his bed and walked towards his grand door. Opening it, there stood Dick and Tim, suspicious smiles on their faces.

“Dames!” Dick said, grinning at his brother.

This caused Damians suspicion to grow, “Grayson.” He said formally, “What's the occasion?”

“Nothing special,” The man spoke, “Can’t a brother just want to spend time with his own?”

No, Damian wanted to say.

“What about you Drake, is it brother time as well?”

Tim shrugged, “I mean if Dick says so.”

“Damian, should I go?” Your voice rang out in a quiet whisper from the phone.

The addressed teen put a finger up, signalling his brothers to silence and then brought the phone up to his ear. “I’m sorry bel- (Y/N), our conversation will have to be continued later.”

Nodding in understanding, you said, “Of course, no worries Damian. Love you, have a good day.”

He hung up before he said it back, not wanting to clue his brothers in on his new secret lover. Before he could stop himself, a small lovestruck smile made its way to his face.

Too late.

“Who was that?” Dick asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

The youngest child rolled his eyes, smile dropping, “No one of your concern. Just a schoolmate needing help with work. Now,” Damian acknowledged the two at the door, “Can we get this brothers day over with please.”

The day started off just as Damian had suspected, boring.

Dick had suggested the three of them go get ice cream and take a walk around Gotham Park.

Damian had already yawned a multitude of times, wanting nothing more than to go back to the manor and talk to you.

“So,” Tim spoke, “This is nice, I feel like we never do this.”

Dick nodded in agreement. Though, Damian not so much.

“Yes Drake, I love being dragged from my room to walk around a people infested grounds area. Certainly this is how I wished to spend my day.”

At that, Tim looked over at Dick, scrunching his nose. So much for Damian being happy, His eyes seemed to say. Dick just shrugged in response, maybe he did just imagine his brother's happiness.

Just about as he was going to speak, Damian's phone rang and the youngest teen excused himself.

“(Y/N)? Is something wrong?”

As your conversation continued, Tim and Dick had one of their own.

“It's that girl again.” Tim said. Dick nodded, “Look at him, he's smiling.”

The two turned to watch Damian, who was now smiling into his phone, kicking the dirt beneath him absentmindedly.

“She's the one that’s doing it to him. She's making him happy.” Tim deduced.

The eldest son rubbed his chin, pondering, then, “Tim. I have an idea.”

“Oh no,” The teen mentioned, moaned, he knew that look. It was the classic, ‘Grayson is up to something stupid’ look.

“You’re a genius with computers.” He spoke, Tim nodded along, “Tonight, we get a hold of Damians phone. You trace the call back to whomever (Y/N) is and tomorrow, we invite her to the manor!”

Dick, being the optimist he was, thought his plan was foolproof, Tim couldn't help but disagree.

“Two things, Dickie-bird, First, how the hell are we going to get his phone?” Tim asked, And secondly, this sounds like a horrible idea. I can't help but see this fall apart in like a million ways.”

Before Dick could disagree with his brother, Damian returned. “I apologize for that. What have I missed?”

Tim was going to fill him in, but Dick interrupted, “Who was that Damian?”

The teen mentioned glared at his older brother, “None of your business, Grayson…” Then, “But if you have to know, it was my classmate again. They had another question on the homework.”

Tim passed him a smug look, “You two seem to be awfully close or just classmates” He teased.

“Tt.” Damian gave, “At least I have game, Drake. Why don't you go back and talk with your minecraft girlfriend?” Dick laughed as Damian smirked while Tims face brightened to a cherry red colour.

That night, you had received an odd text before heading to bed.

Hi, is this (Y/N)?

Was all it read. With hesitance, you responded:

Yes, and this is?

The next text was much more cheerful.

hi! My name is Dick. I’m Damian's older brother. The little man's phone broke so he’s asking me to message you. Tomorrow, he was asking, if you’d like to come over for Lunch? Here's the address: 1007 Mountain Drive, Gotham

You stared at your phone. Damian was inviting you to his house? Though this invite didn't really seem like a Damian move, you accepted.

Sure. Is 12 a good time to swing by?

Dick responded with a quick ‘perfect’ before saying goodnight.

Turning off your phone, you rolled over and went to bed. All the while dreaming about what tomorrow would bring.

“Done.”

Tim looked up from his computer, making eye contact with Dick. “Done with what?” He questioned.

“I texted the mysterious (Y/N) and invited her to lunch.”

The younger brother's eyes went wide. “How,” He questioned, “How did you get Damians phone?”

Dick smirked, waving his own phone, “I didn't! It was genius, I just did a quick search on the batcomputer and her info popped up. So I texted her.”

“If Bruce finds out, you're dead.” Tim then shrugged, “I have to hand it to you DIck, that was pretty smart.”

Flashing a glimmering smile he spoke, “What can I say? I’m not all looks, Timothy. I have some brains in here.” He tapped his head.

Twelve o’clock had arrived much sooner than expected.

After being dropped off by a taxi, you stared up at the big house. You had always imagined Damians house to be large, but this?

Shaking your thoughts away, you gingerly made your way up the stairs and to the front door.

Do you knock? Ring the doorbell maybe? Your thoughts were rampant, not wanting to make a bad impression.

Before you could even lay a finger upon the button, the wide doors swung open, revealing a tall man with sparking blue eyes and a disarming smile.

Dick Grayson. You knew from the tabloids.

“Um, Hello?” Your greeting came out more like a question, leaving Dick to chuckle.

“Hi!” He said excitedly, “I’m so happy you could make it… I mean Damians happy you could make it. He planned this after all!”

You eyed the older man, suspicious at his wavering tone of voice, but dismissed the distrust. “Yeah… me too.”

Silence took over the conversation as you stood waiting to come inside. Dick finally caught on, “Oh, my bad. Want to come in?”

Nodding, he led you inside. You almost fainted while looking at the sheer greatness of the manor.

“Welcome to Wayne Manor!” Dick said, proudly,”I know its a lot to take in at first, but you'll get used to it.”

No I will not. You thought.

“This way to the dining room, if you'd like to take a seat. Alfreds just finishing up lunch.”

So many questions swarmed in your head, Who’s Alfred, Why is their house so big, Where is Damian?

You nodded along, following Dick into the grand dining hall. You didn't know they made tables this long.

Before Dick went to check on lunch, he said, “You can sit anywhere… I'd suggest the last seat on the right, that way you'll be next to Dames.” His tone suggested teasing and you had to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes.

Be polite, you scolded yourself.

Taking a seat, you patiently waited for someone else to come into the room. When the door opened your heart picked up, hoping it was your loving boyfriend.

Alas, it seemed to be another raven haired and ocean eyed man. He seemed to pause when he saw you, confusion masked on his face. “Um, Hello?” He said, gripping his mug tighter towards him.

“Uh, hi?” You said, questioning tone once again.

You watched as the gears turned in his head until a lightbulb went off and he nodded to himself, “You must be (Y/N), right?”

“Yup.” Then, “You are?”

“Tim Drake. Damian's older brother.” How many brothers did Damian have? “The midget will be down soon. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Midget? Damian was like what? 5’11? Taller than you that is.

Tim left and you were left by your lonesome again. That was until Dick bursts back into the room, a tray of sandwiches in his hand. “It's fine Alfred,” He called into the kitchen, “Don't worry, I got it.”

He then turned to you, “Butlers am I right?”

Not knowing how to respond because you never had one, you nodded along.

“Does PB and J work for you? I know it's Damians favourite and I assumed it would just be yours too, seeing how close you are.”

Your cheeks flared at his words, did they all know you were dating? You thought it was a secret?

“Yes, works with me.” You said with a shaky laugh.

While you and Dick awkwardly made small talk, a bigger commotion was going on upstairs.

“Drake!” Damian pounded on his brother's door. “Drake open this up right now!”

Following Damians commands, Tim walked to his bedroom door, cracking it open, “Yes, Damian?”

The taller though younger brother pushed the door open all the way, stomping into the room. “Why is (Y/N) here?” He hissed.

Tim quirked a brow, folding his arms, “How do you know?”

“Tt,” Damian gave, “I’m not deaf, you imbecile. I heard the car pull up. Who invited her?”

Now, don't get it wrong, Damian was totally ecstatic to see you somewhere other than school, but he was not okay with his whole family being here.

“Me and Dick.” Tim said bluntly.

Damian's glare hardened, “When? Why did you think it was a good idea, you backstabbing al'abalah!”

Tim put his hands up in defence, “Listen. We saw how happy she made you and we just thought it'd be a nice treat to see her in person.”

Damian agreed, it was a nice sentiment, however, why here? “That doesn't excuse you both for betraying my trust. I wanted to keep my relationship private for a reason, Drake.”

His older brother smirked, “Relationship, huh? Thought she was just a classmate.” He teased.

The youngest Wayned groaned and stormed out of the room, racing down the steps.

Your laugh echoed throughout the dining hall. Damian stood in front of the door, smiling with butterflies in his stomach and palms sweaty. He couldn’t believe you were actually at his house.

Opening the door, he heard Dick say something stupid causing your laugh to erupt once more.

Upon opening your eyes, you caught Damians, the two of you staring at each other. Dick smirked and pushed his chair out from under him, “Well,” he started, “Guess this is my cue, have fun you two.”

At that, the man walked out of the dining room, not before giving Damian a wink.

The youngest Wayne rolled his eyes at his brother, then turned back to you.

“(Y/N).” was all he could muster.

“Damian.” You replied.

The teen raced over towards you, immediately grasping your hands and pulling you up from your seat, engrossing you into a hug. “You’re really here.” he whispered into the embrace.

You pulled away, smiling, “I am, my love.” You whispered back.

Damian let go of your hands and took the seat across from you, “I apologize for the odd circumstances of course, this was not how I wished to introduce you to my family.”

Nodding in understanding, you dismissed his apology with a wave, “Damian, it doesn't bother me at all. I quite like your brothers.”

Groaning, Damian spoke, “Can't say the same, beloved. They did plot against me, after all.”

Smirking, you reached across the table, playing with his fingertips, “If they hadn’t, we wouldn't have seen each other today. Maybe you should be thanking them.”

Damian soothed the back of your hand with his thumb, “I would’ve found a way to see you. I can’t stand to live a day without seeing you.”

At his flirtatious words you blushed, “Damian Wayne, you are the only one for me.”

It was his turn to blush, “Same for you beloved.”

You pulled your hand away, lifting the silver cover from your lunch tray, “Good. Now, time for sandwiches or?”

Damian pondered for a moment then, “I have a better idea.”

The two of you sat on a big red blanket, settled down in the front yard of the Manor. While you munched on your freshly made pb and j, Damian sat with Titus in his lap, stroking his fur.

You couldn't help but admire the view, he looked like a prince. Strong jawline, bright green eyes and soft well kept hair, and it was all yours.

You sighed lovingly causing Damian to look over, “Enjoying the view?,” He teased.

Playfully, you rolled your eyes, bringing your arm up to ‘hit’ him.

He caught it, turning your play punch into a handhold.

Brining your grip towards his mouth, he kissed your palm, leaning against the warmth of your hand.

Enjoying the calm and serene moment, the both of you stayed in this position for quite some time, too in love to notice the car pull up.

Inside the Manor, Dick and Tim stood by the large front window, looking out at the scene on the lawn.

“Something wrong boys?”

The two brothers jumped at the voice behind them. There stood Bruce, dressed in business attire, briefcase still in hand as he had just got home from WE.

Tim was the first to speak up, “Yeah actually. Damians smiling.”

Bruce gave his signature bat-smirk at his son, “And that's a problem?” Yes, though it was odd, Bruce found comfort knowing that something in this word could make his angsty teen of a son happy.

Tim looked up at Dick for help, He quickly jumped in, “Of course not Bruce, it's just… odd? We’ve spent years trying to get him to laugh, to smile, anything and then suddenly, he's enjoying himself?”

Bruce could've sworn for the kids he considered intelligent, they sure had no grasp on relationships, platonic or otherwise. The tall man made his way in front of the two, looking out on the lawn.

A smile crept onto his stoic face as he saw Damian, curled up against you, laughing at something you had said. “He’s in love.” Was all Bruce said.

He walked away from the windows, only stopping when he realised his sons were still spying on the couple. “That's enough,” He said, waving them away from the window, “I’m sure you’ve both intervened already, leave the boy be.”

Though Tim and Dick still yearned to watch their little brother fall further and further for you, they listened to their father and backed away from the tall window, closing the curtains.

“They’re gone.” Was all Damian said to you.

Picking your head up from his lap, you furrowed your brows, “Huh?”

“My Brothers,” He explained, “They were spying on us. Though, they are gone now.”

“Oh.” You responded, laying back down.

Damian went to play with your hair, “It is just us now, beloved.”

You hummed in response, loving the feeling of his head massage. Comfortable silence took over the conversation until you felt Damians hand stop.

You looked up at him, confusion on your face, “Something wrong, Dami?”

The teen shook his head, “No, I was just thinking.”

“About?” You pushed.

“Kissing you.” He said bluntly.

Face turning red, you gave out another ‘Oh.’ You sat up once more, turning your body to face him.

“Can I?”

Instead of using your words this time, you lightly placed your hand on the back of his neck and pulled him close, sealing your lips together.

Little did the two of you know, up in the second story study stood Bruce, smiling down at his son from the window.

#damian wayne #older!damian wayne #older!damian wayne x reader #older! damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader #batman imagine #batman x reader #batfamily #batfamily imagine #batman

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katsmonsterblog · 4 years

Text

Guardian Monster

Hello!

So this was a Monster Matchup requested by @thedyingredrose for a donation she sent me! She wonderful and requested a non romantic story with my monster OC Chevelle :3

It was only supposed to be a snippet up to 1,000 words buuuuut I got a tad bit carried away... ^-^;

So here is a monster x reader story about meeting Chev for the first time!

Warnings: Nightmares, slight panic, general creepy stuffs

Word count: 2111

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Terror raced through your veins, your legs pumping and your chest heaving as you tried to claw at the door in front of you. You had to get out, panic bleeding out of every pore, your fingers numb and you were running out of time! You had.. you had to... breathe! Oh god... you couldn’t breathe! You stopped wrenching at the doorknob that you knew wouldn’t open, gasping and sobbing as you sank to your knees. It was always like this, your body not listening to you, the fear that followed you and threatened to consume you like a wave and no matter how fast you tried to run or move, it was like you were wading through mud, making your legs heavy and weak.

A scream sounded behind you and your body seized up. Don’t look. God don’t look behind you. It was as if every fiber in your being was screaming and yet against your will, your body turned, so terribly slow and then suddenly you were face to face with it. Human, or that’s what it appeared to be, but the face was off, warped and wrong, its mouth hanging open to scream again. The sound masked your own cry of terror, and as it swung, arms reaching for you..

The dream froze.

You couldn’t comprehend what you were seeing, as the terror around you slowly faded, the monster that had been reaching for you dissolved into dust and the world around you whited out into nothing. It was then that you saw it, a large, impossibly huge beast with fur so deep black that the stark contrast made you pause. Heaped on the floor, you watched, unable really to do much else. Walking on all fours, it turned to look at you, an enormous white skull with tall branching antlers and what looked like eight glowing yellow eyes stared through you. It should have terrified you, this huge beast like thing, but the terror from the dream had faded.. And all you felt then, was a calm relief as you woke up in your bed.

Though it felt like your heart was still trying to hammer its way through your ribs, and your shaky breaths came to a heaving sigh, the dream left you wondering. What was that creature? No not the nightmarish thing that screamed but the one that… took it away. Something about it seemed... familiar? Comforting even. You couldn’t place it and as you got out of your warm bed, heading to the bathroom then the kitchen to make a late breakfast. The next few days went by and the dream went out of your mind with all the stress that your life and your job and your family put on you. The only thing that made it better were those little moments where you’re online friends made you smile. But in the end… you headed to bed alone again, and the nightmares still came. One morning, as you woke, you swore that there was a huge figure in your room, right at the edge of your bed, and your heart leapt to your throat as you sat up with a gasp… but nothing was there.

The creature. It had to be the beast from your dreams that would take the nightmares away and let you get some semblance of sleep. A decision in your head, you forced yourself to get up and go through the day normally, making a small stop at the store down the street, there was little you could do until that evening. But finally, after a long day of thinking and doubting… you had everything set. A candle beside your bed, well enough away from everything so that it wouldn’t be a hazard, and a glass of water just in case too, you laid down in bed. And waited… the only sounds were your breathing, the fan on low in the corner of the room, and your thoughts running rampant in your head. It was difficult, to lay there really, because you weren’t sure if you were going officially crazy or not but what did you have to lose?

After what seemed like forever, at least you were sure it was past your normal bedtime, something in the room changed. Maybe the air, maybe it was your imagination but… you took a chance.

“Hello…? I’m.. I don’t know if this will work.. But if you’re there.... If something is there, then I just wanted to say hello.” You winced visibly, scrunching your face. It was easy to say that you believed in magic, and you’d experimented with paganism and witchcraft, you felt the spiritual pull of it. At least you hoped you did. But it felt odd to just speak out loud and gain no response. “Please… I know that you’ve been in my dreams. I’ve seen you.. So if you’re.. A sign? Or a guide or.. something. Could you.. Give me a sign? More of a sign, let me know you’re there? I’m not scared of you.” You said, the words rolling off your tongue the more you spoke because you felt that, at least if you were alone then no one could call you nuts.

No response. At least.. Not for a few minutes but the hairs on your arms stood straight up, you heart began to pound and.. It wasn't a scary feeling, but more the feeling of being watched. Unsettling. You were about to sit up, end whatever conversation you had going on but a voice sounded from the corner of the room.

“I… do not.. wish to frighten you..” The voice spoke from nothing, but as you turned your head, the shadows at the edges of the room seemed to shift and darken. Blurred but you knew something was there now. “But I am… here..” More silence, and then softer, “...do you wish for me to go…?” it said.

It took several moments for you to find your voice, and with each passing second, you feared that this bubble of weirdness was a dream and you had fallen asleep but it felt too real. With a soft clearing of your throat, you sat up. Every movement you made was deliberately slow, as to not break whatever spell this was but you did, now sat crossed legged on your comforter, looking into the shadows. “No,” You said gently, licking your lips and trying to calm your racing heart. You weren’t scared but this was.. scary. In a way. “No, I don’t want you to leave… I um, well I wanted to say… thank you. For taking my nightmares away.”

“You are curious… but I would frighten you…” It said again,and you frowned.

“Yes.” Was all you got, and just out of the corner of your eye you could see a flash of yellow or white. You head snapped to the side.

“Do...you have a name? Can I see you? Why did you show up in my dreams?” You had to stop yourself from the myriad of questions popping up in your head. You didn’t want to offend whatever being this was and it just occurred to you that it could be a demon… if you believed in those, and maybe you should have researched beings that could be in the dream realm. There was a sound, soft but it sounded like.. bugs? Or maybe… you weren’t sure but it sounded oddly like a chittering noise.

“I’m not scared. I promise. Unless you mean me harm?” You said, trying again to peer into the shadows. There were… several moments that passed, and you again feared that they had left you. But there was a small prickle of energy over your skin again and a shape solidified in the corner of your room.

“I mean… no harm… I am… a protector.” it spoke, the pattern of speech was slow but precise and as it solidified, you realised why. Just like before, the creature’s face was a huge white skull, like that of a deer with large branching antlers the same shade of paper. How did it talk at all with a skull like that for a head? The voice was… male, or at least more male than female, and deeper.

“And you protected my dreams?” You asked, fingers fiddling with the blanket almost absentmindedly. You watched as it, he, came into shape. The skull became more clear, as if a fog lifted, and you could definitely see now that the skull had not two, but eight different and nearly symmetrical eyeholes with soft yellow pupils glowing in each one. They ’blinked’ at random, as if black lids covered them but you couldn’t tell. The rest of him was covered in fur, thick and black, hanging from his too long limbs. He looked, fluffy at first glance but it was how he sat on all fours, hunched that made him appear bigger. Well that and the tangible shadows that clung to the air around him.

You strained your eyes to see something, anything in the shadows but each time you tried to see past the darkness in the room, the flickering flame of the candles made them dance and writhe. “It ...was you right?”

“Yes.” He tilted his head at you, and you realized he’d mimicked your own action. “I am in this world… and also the world of dreams… I can feed off nightmares that plague the innocent… make them fade…” And it made sense… in a way, how he always seemed to be there when the nightmare hit, the last thing you saw before you woke, or the dream faded completely to a semi blank one. It occurred then that you’d sort of always knew he’d been there.

“See…? Not scary to me. What… can I call you? Like, do you have a name?” You asked again, curious now.

“....Once… I had a name… a friend.. They called me, Chevelle.” There was a chittering sound again as he finished speaking, filling your ears like a soft static. It sounded… like bug wings almost. His jaw clicked.

“Chevelle..? Like the car or the band?” You asked only to get another head tilt and now response. You offered a smile, introducing yourself. “Well, Thank you. And… I’m glad you’re around… Chevelle.”

Slowly, you moved, watching him a bit nervously as you crawled off the bed and he watched you in return. There was no feeling of danger, other than the small anxiousness you felt in conversing with what seemed to be a shadow being that fed on nightmare fuel, you were sure that he wouldn’t suddenly eat you. “Can I ask you something?” You wondered, sitting back down on the edge of the mattress, Chevelle close enough now that even though he was… massive, and slightly terrifying to look at, he seemed nervous too. He leaned forward, just as slowly as you had and lifted a hand… or… paw? It was like a human’s, but had the pads like a great cat on his palms. Then there were the long black claws…

A small smile graced your lips. “You’re right, but I was going to ask… do you plan… to stick around?” It had been nice to have… someone. A small hope in the seemingly constant state of grey you had been finding yourself in. “I’ll make pancakes?” you offered. Yes it was late but.. There was no way you could possibly sleep yet.

“That was a question in itself…. But yes, you may ask…” he spoke and for just a moment… you were shocked at what seemed to be humor coming from him.

You looked to your doorway, then to him, and back. “How will you fit through the door…?” You asked, more thinking out loud than really asking him, but in answer, he was suddenly not there. You felt a brush of warmth and then the shadows moved past you to the hallway, where you watched him appear once more. He blinked at you.

“What are… pancakes?” He asked, your jaw dropping in response.

“What are pan- oh I’m definitely making some now. Can you eat… you know.. Like.. human food?” you scrunched your face in question and he nodded his head. “Good. Then um, follow me?” You grinned, hopping up and moving to your bedroom door. He stood too, halfway, moving on all fours like some great dog, he even had a tail…

“Okay… well that’s neat.” You smiled, heading toward the kitchen, still a bit cautious but you were also excited. After all, it wasn’t everyday you got to meet your guardian dream monster, or be the first to feed him pancakes.

Tag list:

@serenitydusk

@thejellyflux

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@sunrisehoneybee

@ijwrff

@thedyingredrose

@bee-wrecker

@matronofthevoid

@spooky-scary-lesbian

@justwritingscibbles

@spooky-scary-lesbian

@domesticandlovingmonsters

@monstersandmaw

@monster-bait

@no-need-to-apply

@junepop45

@huffle-princess

@turquoisemagpie

@gerardwayslips

if you made it this far just know I love you all to bits.

I hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment!!

#my writing #monster matchup #commission #my OC #Chevelle #x reader

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greekgeek21 · 4 years

Text

The Codependency Competition Ch.8

Hello and welcome back to a story that takes you on a rollercoaster of emotions! And I have no shame in admitting that. None whatsoever.

Anyway, I promise that this isn't the last chapter, no matter how much it may feel like it. I promise. I need to have my reading glasses adjusted, so if I make more mistakes than usual here, please don't be mad. I'll go back over it eventually. It just hurts too much to have them squishing the sides of my head for hours. Yeah. Thanks.

Please comment, like, and follow! Stay safe and happy reading!

– your author

ΩΩΩ

Percy and Annabeth headed straight home, just like their friends had suspected. They knew it was only a temporary fix, and that they would eventually have to face the music, but they wanted to at least have time to figure out their story's details first. Since it was Friday, they thought they would at least have the weekend to figure everything out, but a demigod's luck wasn’t even good enough to be called luck. So, when their friends showed up at their apartment, they were a little surprised by the timing, but not shocked. At least most of the group already knew about their relationship.

They were just minding their own business, making out on their bed, when they heard a knock on the door. Now some might wonder why they were kissing each other when they had some serious shit going on, but that's just how they are. A simple strategic conversation turns into a make-out session, and a full-on make-out session turns into a heated screaming match. It's all a part of the package of Percabeth.

"Who could that be?" Annabeth pulled back from her boyfriend, with him letting out a sound of frustration.

"I don't care, but whoever they are, they're about to be run through with a VERY pointy sword named Riptide," Percy grumbled, storming out of the room.

Annabeth rolled her eyes at him, but followed anyway. This should be good.

She was able to reach him just as he was unlocking the front door, sword in hand. He looked like he was seriously about to skewer whomever was behind that door.

What they saw on the other side was not what they were expecting. At least not so soon.

"Addison?" Annabeth asked, shocked.

"Hey, Annabeth. Can we come in?" her friend asked.

Annabeth had to literally shake herself out of her stupor before she pushed Percy out of the way for her friends to come in, "Oh, yeah. Welcome."

Percy just watched as each and every one of his close friends followed Addison through his apartment door. He had almost forgotten about their problem at school before this interruption. Annabeth's lips could make him forget anything stuck on his mind.

"So...what're you guys doing here?" Percy asked, waving Riptide around as a pointer out of habit.

Annabeth's eyes widened and she quickly pried the sword out of her boyfriend's hands. Idiot, she thought.

"Why do you have a bat?" Jack asked, eyebrows raised in question at his friend.

"What? I don't have a–oh! Yeah. We weren't expecting anyone. Didn't know what to think," Percy lied very un-smoothly.

Once again, Annabeth found herself mentally calling her boyfriend an idiot.

"You never answered his question," She pointed out, putting Riptide against the wall and trying to change the direction of the conversation.

She's always left to clean up Percy's messes. Just ONCE, Annabeth wants him to not almost reveal the entire existence of the greek gods in one conversation. That's the dream.

"We didn't. But I think you know why we're here," Addison said, crossing her arms.

"Actually, I have no idea why they're here since they already knew about us," Percy pointed to his friends, "But I think I know why you're here."

Addison was ready to give some witty retort, but never got to because Percy's answer was not what she was expecting. Chloe, Mike, and Jack already knew?! Then why did they help her find Percy and Annabeth? Ugh, everything is just so confusing right now.

"Wait, you guys knew already?!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up into the air.

"Yep, but we thought it would be nice to get some payback on Percy and Annabeth for lying to us. So, we brought you to them. Now be angry!" Mike said.

Percy was about to just walk out of the room, but as he was leaving, Annabeth grabbed his arm in a death-lock grip. He did not get to just leave her to explain everything, even though she already did that to him earlier. This one's gonna be bigger, she can feel it.

"Why don't we move to the kitchen table, ok? We'll answer all of your questions there," she offered, already walking out of the room, Percy towing behind.

As she was being led into the Jackson family’s kitchen, Addison had a sudden realization. Percy and Annabeth really DO live together. She knew that Chloe said they were staying together, but it had never really sunk in until now.

"Do you guys want anything?" Percy asked half-heartedly, only because Sally had raised him right.

"We're good," Chloe answered quickly, eager to let the interrogation begin.

"Ok, well if you change your mind, there's cookies on the table," he said.

They all sat down at the table. Nobody spoke. Nobody knew how to start. It was very aggravating for the demigods present.

Finally, Mike broke the tension, "So...I wanted to ask a question before Addison starts ranting."

Addison briefly wondered how one of the most popular guys at the school could talk about her so casually, like they were best friends. It went against every stereotype that she believed about them. She guesses that she should just scrap all of those now that she's learned her best friend is dating THE most popular person at school.

"What?" Annabeth asked, trying to turn her attention to Mike, but there was a very distracting crack in the wood on the table that was practically called out to her.

Unlike Annabeth, Percy wasn’t able to control his ADHD at all, so the crack got the majority of his attention. If he was really needed, Annabeth would slap him.

Back to Mike. "Well, I was feeling all excited cuz' I was able to keep a huge secret, and then you go and out the secret on my first day, so I was just wondering why?"

Annabeth burst out laughing. Like, full-on laughter. It even broke Percy out of whatever trance the crack had put him in, making him aware of what was going on around him again.

Everyone looked at each other with looks of confusion. The mortals were all wondering if Annabeth was hiding some sort of mental illness from them, one that makes her suddenly break out into hysterical laughter. But that was just their imaginations running rampant.

What was really happening was that Annabeth was in need of a good laugh, and the smallest of things could've set her off. This time, it just happened to be Mike asking a perfectly ordinary (sort of) question.

When she was finally able to control herself, Annabeth said, "I'm sorry. I just really needed a good laugh. Anyway, to answer your question simply, I got sick of hiding the best part of my life."

In most people's eyes, that is not simple whatsoever. But whatever.

"Ok, that's fine I guess," Jack said, "Moving the mic over to Addison!"

"Thanks, er, I guess. Now I don't know where to start. Everything is just a jumbled mess of questions," Addison mumbled.

Percy, ever the kindest, encouraged her by saying, "Don't think about it. Just ask and we'll answer."

Wow. Can he get any better? Addison thought before following his instructions, "Um, how long have you two been together?"

"About a year," Annabeth answered immediately, "But we've known each other since we were twelve.”

That was an easy one.

"Ok, why did you keep it a secret from everyone?"

Percy sighed, "We were told by our friends that we’re too dependent on each other, so we made a game out of proving them wrong. Whoever broke first lost."

"That's...kinda messed up, but whatever. Next, um, do you love each other?"

"Of course," both demigods answered together.

"Well, that kinda takes away every other question I had. I don't know what else to ask," Addison admitted.

Well, that wasn't as bad as Percy and Annabeth thought it would be. Thought Annabeth did take notice of her friend's change in personality. Usually, Addison is the quiet one, but she was very open today. Annabeth guessed the secret coming out somehow brought her out of her shell, too.

"Seriously?! I was hoping for a popcorn-worthy event! Come on, man!" Jack exclaimed.

Percy smirked. His friends always knew how to bring the mood back to joking around. It's comforting that they weren't super mad at him for keeping something this big from them. And this isn't even his biggest secret! (But they'll never learn that one.)

"Well, I guess we should go watch a movie, huh?" he said, jumping up.

Seaweed brain, Annabeth thought with a loving smile.

ΩΩΩ

On her way home, Addison was stuck in her own thoughts. Throughout her time spent with Percy and Annabeth today, she had noticed all of the things about them she had never seen before; the way they knew what the other was thinking without any effort, the way they always gravitated towards each other (almost always touching in some way), and the way they were absolutely, without a doubt, the best of friends she had ever seen.

It was almost impossible to not feel happy in their presence. They were so much in love, some might get sick from the proximity. Not Addison though, she was just happy that her friend had found her perfect other. For as long as she had known her, Addison had worried that Annabeth was one of those girls that refused every advance because she thought school was more important than social interaction.

How wrong she was...

ΩΩΩ

Don't worry! This isn't the last chapter, as I said before. I think I'm aiming for 2 more. I have a plan already in place on how to pull it off, too. Sorry if some of the thoughts got a little confusing. I was trying to pull off going into everyones heads, and it was hard to fit it all in. And to transition it all! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

As a reminder, this story is also on Inkitt, Wattpad, FF, and Ao3.

Speaking of Ao3, my beta reader writes stories on there! JJ, you are amazing! Go check out nightskywithrainbows!

Comment, like, and follow! Stay safe and happy reading!

– your author

chapter 9 :)

#percabeth #percyjackson #annabethchase #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #high school #teen

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overthere-in-neverland · 5 years

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Hey i was wondering if you could do one where the readers band is on tour with all time low and at night she sings herself to sleep and jack listens to her and starts developing a crush on her? You can change it up a bit so it doesn’t suck but thanks :)

AN Hey guys! Sorry it’s been three years since I’ve posted lmao. I think I’m slowly coming back to these. For one thing I’m at my job, and I work graveyard so I’m bored as hell. For another, I really miss creative writing. I’ll update you on my life if you want next time I visit this, but other than that, hello! I won’t be updating the halloween imagines for the time being, especially since I’m trying to come back to this. I know I had one (1) request to update the side blog fanfics I had going on, but as for now, I’m going to try to do it one at a time. @ my motivation? Where r u (and im so sorry i cannot sleep i cannot dream tonighttttt) Anyways! Also I just realized that it was Creeper who were atl’s opening band on the european mainland tour for lyr and now im emo all over again. The text conversation is in the story already, I just felt the need to make it for you lol

Your POV

I knew we were going on tour with All Time Low. Our manager knew we were going on tour with All Time Low. My bandmates knew we were going on tour with All Time Low. We all were well aware, and now the fans were too. But holy shit, is it surreal. Starting from nothing, playing a max of ten people, then going to 1,000 cap rooms, oh my god is it fucking incredible. Not to mention All Time Low have been my heroes for as long as I can remember.

I’m in a pop punk band, and I play the bass. I’m not quite a singer, but I can do back up. I have three other bandmates. One sings, her name is Maria, one plays guitar, that’s Drew. And we have Allison on drums. Altogether we’re pretty badass.

I had heard in the industry that Jack was a bit of a flirt. Having Drew in our band, we didn’t think much of it. Granted, Maria was engaged, and Allison’s gay, so it’s not like either of them were available. But I knew of Jack’s wiles, so I knew to stay on my toes. We were touring in Europe around the mainland for Last young Renegade, All Time Low’s new album, and it was my band’s first time being in Europe, so we were stoked. We were up at like 8 am, exploring around the city. Though trying to fall asleep is critical, especially jet-lagged. I don’t know about most things, but what I do know is anytime I go anywhere, even if it’s in the same time zone, I’m always jet-lagged. Maybe I’m just always tired?

So we arrived in Copenhagen, Denmark, the first stop on our European tour, and we meet the guys at their bus, and I’m a little star struck. Alex Gaskarth and his iconic hair. I’m not saying I’m in the fandom, but Alex’s brown hair is nothing short of iconic. Especially when it’s longer. Huge throwback to Timebomb era, and hooo boy. That was an era to be alive. Alex was wiping down the table in his bus, muttering about these “good for nothing men, who can’t even pick up after themselves.” Jack is behind him opening the fridge, then opening the cupboards, then opening the fridge, then opening the pantry, I smiled a bit at that. Zack and Rian weren’t anywhere to be found, at least from what I could see, staring down the bus’s hallway. We were to be dragging behind them in our small little van pulling a trailer. Drew coughed, and Alex looked up. “Guys!” he smiled, throwing away his wipe. “You’re here!”

Jack looked over from his rampant searching of food and smiled at us as well. I felt my face grow hot, but tried to brush it off like I was alright. I kicked my other food and looked down at the ground to try and forget I existed for a bit. I noticed Maria smiling at me, probably knowing exactly what was going on. She knew that Jack has always been a celebrity crush of mine since 2008. “What’s up,” he said to us, nodding in our direction.

“We’re in GutterPunk,” Drew responded, usually taking initiative. “Nice to meet you guys. We’ll be on tour with you throughout the mainland.”

“Sweet!” Alex smiled, and came over to us, probably intending to shake our hands. “What’ll you be riding around?”

“We kind of don’t really know yet? We have to go pick up the rental van and trailer soon. We just wanted to meet you guys.”

“Well I’m Alex,” he said gesturing to himself. “And that fiend over there is Jack.” Jack paused from his cupboard raid and waved, then went back to it. “Hope to enjoy your guys’ music and energy out there.”

“Stoked, dude.” Drew shook his hand, and turned to walk away, out of the bus. We were all standing in his way. So he had nowhere to go.

“I’ve been a fan since middle school!” Allison told him, also shaking his hand. “Y/N and I have always dreamed of touring with you guys. It’s been a dream, really. You’re a huge inspiration! At least half of it. Tre Cool has always been my biggest, but don’t sweat it. He’s a fucking god on drums.”

“Here here!” came a voice in the back.

“That’s Rian,” Alex chuckled. “He always makes himself known at any mention of Green Day.”

I thought I had seen Jack peak over at us when Allison mentioned my name, but then again, it was all happening so fast, I didn’t have any idea as to what was going on. I tucked my hair behind my ears and introduced myself to Alex. We talked a bit before we had to go to the rental agency and get our modes of transportation. It was to be about a month in the van with these guys, tightly packed. Thank god we weren’t a ska band.

After a couple days on tour in Europe, I was getting my bearings. I started to get a feel of how it would be like throughout the month. It was a show every night for a couple days, then we’d have one or two days off. Our van broke down the fifth day, and we were ready to call it quits, me being on the verge of tears, and Allison kicking the wheel of our shitty van rental. Alex graciously offered to let us stay in their bus, but we all refused, trying desperately to figure out another way to travel. He insisted.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Maria asked him as we gathered our stuff in their bus

“Oh, it’s fine!” Alex waved us off. “You’ll just stay with us. It’s not fair that we get this huge ass bus for four of us and you guys all have to share that tiny van. Make sure you get your money back though, because that’s bullshit. Jesus Christ, man. I told Fueled that we should’ve just shared a tour bus but they’re all about ‘separating bands’ or whatever. Why we ever signed to this record label I’ll never know.”

“It was your idea,” Zack chimed in. We all laughed. “Well it was! After going to Hopeless, twice, Alex wanted to branch out. Which we all agreed to anyway. It was funny though, because he complained about it every chance he got.”

“I’m well aware of that. But Fueled by Ramen seems to forget that we were once small too! Power to the little people!”

We all laughed again and gathered in their bus to prepare for the next night which was to be a day off. I was nervous, because this meant that Jack would be just down the hall, if you can even call it that, from me. It reached 1 am that night after the show, and we had all gathered in our beds to try and sleep so we could get out and do fun things around France.

I always used to sing myself to sleep to calm my nerves, and after about an hour of tossing and turning, it seemed like that was my only option if I wanted to sleep. I started off by humming softly, in case I would wake anyone up. After about ten minutes of that, and no sounds of stirs happened, I sang quietly. First was Lullabies, which is my go to song to sing when I need to sleep. Something about the line “Sing me to sleep, I’ll see you in my dreams” makes me feel at peace. After I finished with that, I heard the quiet patter of feet. I stopped for a bit, to wait to see if it came again, and when it didn’t I started again. Snuff by Slipknot is another one that calms me down, and I sang that, but right at the bridge I heard the patter again. I drew back the curtain, and saw Jack standing there. He looked scared to see me notice him, and promptly turned back towards his bed, and didn’t look back at me.

I frowned but pulled the covers up. I guess he doesn’t actually want to get to know me. I closed my eyes to try for the.. Was it the fourth time? Third time? I lost count. But I tried once more to sleep. Then I heard the pang next to me of a text message.

I promise I wasn’t trying to listen to you sing.

It was from Jack. We had all exchanged numbers at the beginning of the tour. My thumbs danced over my screen as I thought of what to say.

Don’t worry about it

I just heard it and then i couldn’t stop

It’s fine, jack. Really

Your voice is really pretty tho Can we talk tomorrow? I have something I need to tell you

What could he possibly need to tell me? I was freaking out. And now I can’t sleep even more. Fuck. This was going to be a long night.

I mean I’m awake right now

I can’t really say it right now

Well, what the fuck does that mean? I sigh and then turn around and face the wall. The bus was moving, but I felt like my stomach was moving ten thousand times faster. Him talking to me like this is the first real conversation he’s had with me. Most of the time he avoids me. Whatever it is, I guess I can wait. I prepared for a long sleepless night after that.

When I woke up, everyone was bustling about, getting ready for the day off. “Jack! Y/N!” Rian called down to us. I guess neither of us had gotten up. “We’re going out to breakfast!”

I moaned in recognition, and heard nothing from Jack, so I assumed he had gone with them. I threw my covers off and went straight to the bathroom. When I got out, I saw a tall lanky man with bed head staring at me.

“Uh. Hello.” I said stupidly.

“Hey, uh. About last night.”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to say anything. I get it. I’m a backup singer for a reason.”

“No that’s not it! Um.” He stopped talking to look down at his feet. “Look. I know this is weird. Especially since I hardly know you. But, I’ve actually been following your band for a while. And dude, you’re like insanely hot. And then I find out you’re a good person too? Last night, hearing your singing it made me realize.. Fuck, this is so stupid. It made me realize I’m in love with you.” With the last uttering of those words, he looked up at me. “Sorry.”

“Are you fucking serious?” I raised my eyebrows, completely awestruck. Jack Barakat, the celebrity crush of my teen years was telling me he was in love with me? When it looked like he in fact, was not kidding, I immediately blushed and looked away. “Dude. I’ve been in love with you since I was like 14.”

A smile lit up his face as he started talking really fast, rambling. “Oh my god! Really? Holy shit okay, so like we can go get breakfast with the others, or we can go get breakfast by ourselves, we could walk down the Seine, we are in France after all. Holy fu-”

I started laughing, but grabbed his hand with mine, since he was waving it all around. “Slow down there, I can barely keep up. Let’s go get breakfast first, and talk this out. You’ve basically been avoiding me since I got here.”

“Well yeah, I didn’t really know how to strike up a conversation.”

I chuckled. “This is weird, huh?”

“So weird.” He nodded in agreement. I realized I was still holding his hand, but I didn’t let go. Instead we walked off the bus, headed towards the cafe for breakfast. My heart was in my throat but this felt right. After the initial break of the ice, he wouldn’t shut up, but I loved hearing his voice. He could talk for hours on end if he really wanted to.

#jack barakat #jack barakat imagine #jack barakat fanfiction #all time low #all time low fanfiction #all time low imagine #band imagines

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foreverwayward · 6 years

Text

“Wayward Hearts” Season 3 Chapter 4: Bedtime Stories

Summary: After the Devil’s Gate had been opened that fateful night in the graveyard, the hunters are forced to face a new war. Countless demons now run rampant, hungry for blood and power. It’ll take everything the three have to survive when darkness once again knocks on their door. But, with only a year before Dean’s deal comes due, Sam and Riley will stop at nothing to save him; to save their family.

Masterlist

Word Count: 7,888

Content Warning: language and violence

DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.

**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**

In a random, beat up motel on the east coast, the three hunters packed their things after their most recent case. They finally had the Colt back after Bobby had discovered a way to alter it and to create bullets infused with the same original magic.

Though having the weapon in hand again brought a small relief to the family, there was a palpable tension rising in the room. Riley and Sam were hell-bent on saving Dean from his deal, while he had resigned to his fate.

Riley practically threw her clothes into her duffel bag with a huff. “I don’t get it, Dean. Why? Why not?”

“Because I said so,” he simply stated.

She scoffed, “excuse me?”

“We got the Colt now!” Sam added in frustration. “We can summon the crossroads demon…”

They all began to shout over each other’s words, getting louder each time.

“We're not fucking summoning anything,” Dean barked as he shrugged his jacket on.

“ …we pull the gun on her and force her to let you out of the deal!”

“We don't even know if that'll work!”

Riley jumped back in and threw her hands in the air. “Well, if we shoot the bitch, the deal goes away!”

“We don't know if that'll work either! All you two are pitching me right now is a bunch of ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes’ and that's not good enough, because if we fuck with this deal, you die, Riley!”

“And if we don’t fuck with it, you die, Dean!”

“Enough! I am not going to have this conversation.”

“Why, because you said so?” Sam yelled at him.

“Yes! Because I fuckin’ said so!”

“Well, you're not Dad!”

Riley picked up a glass cigarette tray that sat on the dresser and chucked it across the room in anger. When it hit the wall, it shattered as glass fell to the ground. She had been dealing with her own hurt and frustration and feeling Sam’s and Dean’s as well had brought her to the brink of rage.

“And you’re not my goddamn father either!” Riley yelled. “You don’t get to die for me! I won’t fucking let you!”

The three just stared at each other unsure of what to do next.

Dean finally broke the silence with a quieter but firm voice. “No, but I’m doing what’s best and you’re both going to let this go, you understand me? You don’t get to fuck with this. You’re the one that doesn’t get to die, Riley.”

Throwing her bag over her shoulder and grabbing her guitar case with her free hand, Riley glared at Dean. “I’ll be in the car.”

Dean sighed. “Sam was gonna tell us about the next case…”

As she walked out the door, she just shouted without ever looking back, “I said I’ll be in the car!”

Sam exhaled heavily and went back to packing, slower this time and somewhat defeated. His older brother ran a frustrated hand over his head and clenched his jaw.

The conversations about what would happen in less than seven months weren’t getting any easier.

“Tell me about the psychotic killer,” Dean said trying to move on. When his brother didn’t answer, he pushed. “C'mon, Sam, tell me about the psychotic killer.”

Grabbing a nearby folder, he pulled out a paper and read it monotonously. “Psychotic killer...rips victims apart with brute-like ferocity.”

“Okay, any mention of his razor-sharp teeth or his four-inch claws? Animal eyes?”

“No. But, the lunar cycle's right. Look, if it is a werewolf we don't have long, moon's full this Friday and that's the last time it changes for a month.”

“Two days, no sweat.” Dean grabbed the last of his things and nodded to Sam for them to leave. “Now, a car ride with an angry, pent-up, empathic hunter? ...now that fuckin makes me sweat.”

------

After a long and awkward road trip, Sam, Dean, and Riley had made it to Maple Springs, New York. The victim was still in the hospital recovering and interviewing him was their best shot at finding the possible werewolf.

Dressed in suits, the three stood at the man’s bedside. He was a heavyset guy with strawberry-blonde hair with a matching beard and fair skin. Claw marks near his eye were still healing and bandaged up.

Dean took out his fake badge and the others did the same. “I'm Detective Plant, this is Detective Page.” He then pointed to Riley, “and this is Detective Bonham. We're with the County Sheriff's Department. You’re Kyle, right?”

“Yeah, uh--I've been expecting you,” he replied in a broken voice. “You’re the sketch artists, right?”

The three eyed each other waiting for one of them to come up with an idea.

“Absolutely,” Dean answered with a smile. “Yeah. That’s exactly who my partner is. The things he can do with a pen…” he added as he pat Sam’s shoulder and laughed as his brother glared at him. “But listen, before we get started on that, I wanted to ask you, uh--how'd you get away?”

“I--I have no idea. I was hiding, and he found me. He was coming right for me and then he just...stopped--staring at me with this blank look. And after that, he just took off running.”

Sam sighed as he pulled a notebook and pen from his pocket and acted to be ready to sketch. Riley lightly chuckled under her breath watching how nervous he was. “‘Kay. Um, I'm going to need as much physical detail as you can remember.”

“Uh--yeah. He, uh--he was about six feet tall...dark hair.”

“What about his eyes?” Riley asked. “Do you remember what color his eyes were?”

“Maybe….blue? I mean, it was dark.”

Riley kept leaning on her tiptoes to look over Sam’s shoulder at the drawing. It was enough to finally lighten her mood with how ridiculous the sketch was becoming. “Did his eyes seem...animal-like? Or was there anything strange about his teeth?”

The victim shook his head with confusion and an odd look. “No...they were just...teeth.”

“Fingernails?” Dean chimed in.

“Okay look, he--he's just a--a normal guy, with normal eyes a--a--and teeth and fingernails!” Kyle stammered.

“Look, sir, it's okay if you need to--”

“No. No. Those were my brothers. This guy, he--he,” Kyle’s voice broken further and his eyes welled. “He...killed my brothers. How would you feel?”

Sam paused and his head fell. “Can't imagine anything worse.”

Dean and Riley said nothing in response, still, it struck a chord in the older brother and it forced him to acknowledge the pain the others were feeling. “I know this isn't easy, but if you could remember any more details…”

“Th--there was one more thing he had a--a tattoo on his arm of a cartoon character. Um...it's, uh--it's the guy who's chasing the Roadrunner--”

With a hint of uncertainty and mild humor, Riley added, “you mean Wile E. Coyote?”

A little smirk grew on Dean’s right cheek knowing he was about to give the same answer. She always got him in ways that no one else did, even the little things.

“Yeah, that's it.”

Kyle’s doctor walked into the room in a nice button-up and slacks under his white coat. He was an older man with grey peppered hair and a gentle demeanor. “How you holding up, Kyle?”

“Okay, considering.”

The three held up their badges again to the doctor.

“Are you treating Kyle?” Riley questioned.

“Yes? I’m Doctor Garrison.”

“Mind if I ask you a few questions?” Dean asked as he put away his ID.

The doctor nodded. “Sure.”

As the physician and Dean left the room, Sam and Riley were alone with Kyle.

The man pointed to Sam’s notebook. “Don't I get to see it?”

Riley had to turn herself around not to break out in laughter as Sam chuckled nervously to himself. “Uh--yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Um, yeah, it's a--you know...work in progress.”

The hunter handed the notebook over to Kyle. On the page was a badly drawn stick figure of a man; almost like a child’s drawing.

“Hm,” Kyle murmured. “It--it's really...huh.”

Unable to hide it anymore, Riley chortled through her nose with her back still turned and she immediately hurried out the door.

------

Walking away from the hospital, Riley and the Winchesters headed back for the car they had parked a few blocks over. The sun was shining even though fall had already come and the brisk air nipped at their noses while they still squinted at the light.

Sam and Dean had loosened their ties and Riley pulled her hair out from its bun, shaking it out.

After finally getting a look at Sam’s final drawing, Dean laughed as they walked on. “Boy, this is a piece of, uh--art. Really.”

Sam snatched the notebook from Dean with an annoyed look. “Yeah, like you could've done any better. So, what did the Doc have to say about Kyle's brothers?”

“Not much, they were D.O.A. at the scene. He did give me the lowdown on the coroner's report.”

“Lemme guess, their hearts were missing.”

“Nope. But chunks of their kidneys, lungs, and intestines.”

Riley’s face crinkled with disgust. “Lovely.”

“Yeah, also definitely not werewolf behavior.”

“So…” she paused trying to come up with an idea. “Possession? Attacker didn’t even know he was doing it?”

“Why would a demon stop halfway through an attack?”

“Maybe, it--well, it could have...yeah, I got nothin.” Her phone rang and she stopped to answer it. “Hello? Yes, this is Detective Bonham.” Riley’s eyes went to the brothers as she listened. “Yeah, we’ll be right there.”

As she hung up, the hunter put her cell back in her pocket. “Looks like we’re going back to the hospital.”

------

There was bustling activity around the nurses’ station as the hunters looked for the right room. As they approached the station, two Sheriff’s deputies exited the patient’s room.

“5-0. 5-0,” Riley mumbled under her breath and they all hastily altered course to focus on a set of flowers on the counter to hide their faces.

Once the two deputies passed by, Sam, Dean, and Riley continued down the corridor to the room.

“This whole ‘America’s Most Wanted thing’ is getting real old,” she told them.

“Please, please…” the woman in the bed pleaded with the doctor. Tears ran down her face and she was shaking with emotion.

Riley leaned against the door frame trying to gather herself as the woman’s pain struck her the second she came in the room. The poor woman had lost her husband.

Dean took a step back and whispered to her, “you alright, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine,” she answered plainly and straightened her jacket.

The truth was, Riley’s abilities were drowning her. She still didn’t understand her empathic abilities or how to control them. Weakened by all the pain her family was already under, everything seemed intensified. She just wasn’t about to admit it.

“Shh,” Doctor Garrison told her gently. “Hey, we need to observe you while the drugs still might be in your system.”

“I have to go. I have things to do, arrangements I need to make!”

“It can wait. Now you need to rest. Stay--I'll be back in a few minutes.” The doctor walked toward Riley, Sam, and Dean who were still standing at the doorway., He sighed. “Detectives, please tell me you know what’s going on here. My whole town is going insane.”

All Sam could do was share an empathetic smile. “We'll let you know as soon as we do.”

As Garrison left, they all moved inside but Riley turned to the boys. “Hey, I got this one, okay?”

The two nodded in agreeance before heading back into the hall.

“Mrs. Watson?” Riley’s tone was compassionate and soft. She couldn’t imagine the loss the woman had experienced and it made her dread the impending months to come even more. “Hi. Would it be okay if we asked you a few questions?” Taking out her badge, Riley then sat in a chair she pulled close.

“Do we have to go over this again? Now?”

“I promise, I won’t take much of your time. Mrs. Watson, how did you get away?”

The woman just softly nodded before she spoke meekly. “I didn't eat as much as Ken did, so I wasn't as out of it. And, when the old woman was...carving up Ken, I shoved her and she fell--cracked her head on the stove.” She paused as more tears fell. “She's dead, right? I--I killed her?”

“Do you have any idea at all why this woman would want to hurt you?”

“No! One minute she was a sweet old lady and the next she was, like a monster.”

“Is there anything else you remember? Anything at all.”

“Um, yeah,” the widow sniffled. “Did you find a little girl there, by any chance?”

Riley’s brow scrunched as she asked, “at the house? You saw a little girl there?”

“I thought I saw her outside the window. She--she just disappeared. Just vanished, into thin air. It m--must've been the drugs.”

“Mrs. Watson, what did the little girl look like? No detail is too small.”

With a heavy sigh, the victim tried to answer. “She had this dark--dark hair and really pale skin. She was around eight. She was a beautiful child. It was...odd to see her in the middle of something so horrible.”

The two talked for several minutes before Riley was able to get all the information she could.

Taking the woman’s hand, Riley waited until the widow’s eyes met hers. “I am so sorry for your loss.” The hunter’s heart swelled with love and understanding as she tried to force it through her. “Thank you for your help. I promise we’re gonna do everything we can to get you answers.” It seemed as though Riley had been able to conjure her abilities to do what she wanted as the woman sighed with slight relief. “Here’s my card. You call me if you need anything.”

As Riley left the card on the side table, she began to leave. She was at the door when she heard a small voice coming from behind her.

“Thank you, Detective.”

Riley turned to give the broken woman a soft smile before going back into the corridor. Sam and Dean were outside waiting. “So, what’d she say?” Sam’s hands went into his pockets as he and his brother stepped closer.

“She and her husband got lost in the woods on a hike. They stumbled on some old lady’s house and she offered to have them inside, gave them food, and I guess poisoned it. The husband was too weak to run and she stabbed him to death. The victim pushed the old woman away and she hit her head and died.”

“Huh,” Dean stated. “Drugging and stabbing granny. What has the world come to?” he asked sarcastically as he spun around to go.

------

The Impala sat parked outside of the small cottage that belonged to the old woman. It was the only thing in the clearing with nothing else for miles. The outside was a soft blue with white shutters and flowers around the porch. Birds ate from the feeder and the breeze rustled through the trees.

Inside, Sam, Dean, and Riley studied the home looking for anything out of the ordinary. The youngest Winchester was looking for EMF readings while his brother and Riley searched for clues.

The detector whirred as Sam brought it in front of the main window. “EMF’s going nuts,” he told them. “When I went over here by the window...there's definitely a spirit here.”

“Who stood outside the crime scene and watched?” Dean asked with an incredulous look.

“Looks like.”

Riley shook her head. “There may have been a spirit here at one point or another, but it’s not here now.”

“How do you know?”

“Empath,” she stated. “Remember? I can feel when there’s another energy in the room most of the time. It’s just us right now.”

Dean looked almost impressed with her. “You never really talk about that part of things.”

“Yeah. Well, now you know why I get all fidgety in hospitals. There’s too much pain and loss...and suffering. It’s terrible.” Riley seemed to get lost in her thoughts before she forced herself back to reality. “Anyway, I’m still onboard with the whole ‘spirit thing’. I mean, there’s no sulfur anywhere.”

“Actually,” Sam started. “I do have a theory. Uh--sort of. I’m, uh--I’m thinking about fairytales.”

The older Winchester’s eyebrow hooked as he saw an open window to mess with his brother. “Oh, that's--that's nice. You think about fairytales often?” Dean teased as he packed up their gear.

“No, Dean, I'm talking about the murders. A guy and a girl? Hiking through the woods, an old lady tries to eat 'em? That's Hansel and Gretel. And then we got three brothers, arguing over how to build houses, attacked by the Big Bad Wolf.”

“Three Little Pigs. Actually, those guys were a little chubby. Well, wait, I thought those things ended with, uh--everybody living happily ever after?”

Riley gasped softly and her eyes practically twinkled and she walked around as she spoke. “Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! What if we’re talking OG fairytales? Like--Grimm Brothers’ stuff. I mean, it was full of sex, violence--even cannibalism. Disney flicks and whatnot just baby-proofed them. Ugh. I love the originals--so much more interesting.” She stopped at looked at them with a realization. “Except for ‘Beauty and the Beast’. That’s a classic.”

Chuckling a little, Sam nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t know how but they’re almost...reenactments.”

“The question is, how is that creepy little ghost girl involved in this? I mean, she has to be showing up for a reason.”

“I’ll bet you top dollar she was at that construction site too.”

Dean’s face fell. “We gotta do research now, don't we?” As the others grabbed their things, they shrugged and Dean groaned.

------

Sam and Riley waited outside the library after finishing their own research through internet searches. The older Winchester came out the front door, not looking happy.

“Checked every record they had. Found the usual amount of violent childhood deaths for a town this size.” The three walked across the road and toward a park. “Wanna know how many how many were little girls with black hair and pale skin? Zero. You wanna know how many how many little girls with black hair and pale skin that have gone missing? Right again. Zip. Zilch, nada. Fuckin’ goose egg. Tell me you've got something good 'cause I've totally wasted the last six hours.”

Sam chuffed as they walked up the dirt path of the park. Trees surrounded them along with the sound of playing children nearby. “Well, you ever hear of Lillian Bailey? She was a British medium from the 1930s.”

“She got a thing for fairytales?”

After running a hand through her hair, Riley stuffed her hands in her pockets as they walked on. “Nope--trances. Apparently, she’d be able to have her thoughts and actions completely controlled by spirits while she was in some weird unconscious state.”

“So, like a ghost puppet master. Think that's what this kid is doing? Sending Wolf Boy and grandma into trances, making them go kill-crazy?”

“I mean, maybe,” she shrugged. “Hypnosis for spirits or something?”

Dean scoffed under his breath with a slight smile of amusement. “Trances I get, but fairytale trances? That's bizarre even for us.”

Stopping dead in their tracks, they all looked down to see a bullfrog sitting in their path, croaking at them.

“Yeah, you're right. That's completely normal,” Sam snarked.

The bullfrog croaked again and again.

“Alright, maybe it is fairy tales. Totally fucked up fairy tales.”

Riley shook her head as she looked at the frog. “Mm-mm. Nope. I don’t care if it breaks the spell or even makes me the next Stevie Nicks...I’m not kissing a damn frog.” She shuddered at the thought and stepped over it as the brothers followed.

At the edge of the park, Sam noticed a house with a large front porch. A pumpkin sat at the entrance of the house as a little mouse scurried around it.

“Hey. Check that out. You guys remember Cinderella? With the pumpkin that turns into a coach and the mice that become horses?”

Dean looked at Sam and said, “dude, could you be more gay?”

His little brother looked at him nonplussed and his jaw fell speechlessly without a comeback.

“Never mind. Don't answer that.” Scurrying up the steps, Dean led the others to the front door. He picked the lock and quietly opened the door before they all entered and he closed it softly behind them. “Well, who knows? Maybe you'll find your fairy godmother, Sam.”

Sam looked irritated and completely done with Dean’s games as his big brother just smirked back.

There was a noise nearby and they all drew their guns. Hesitantly, the hunters went on their search through the house. Another noise of clattering and banging was in the other room and Dean motioned for Sam and Riley to head toward it as he followed.

“Help I'm in here!” a voice cried.

In the kitchen, a scared teenage girl with blonde hair was covered with bruises and handcuffed to the stove. She was shaking and dirty with tears running down her face.

“It's okay. We're here, we're here. We got you.” Sam tried to comfort the girl as he opened his lock pick to undo the cuffs. “What happened?”

“My stepmom, she just freaked out, screamed at me, beat me--chained me up.”

“Where is she now?”

“I don't know.”

Dean went to check the other rooms as Riley’s eyes caught movement down the hallway.

A little girl with long dark hair peeked out at her. Her skin was fair, almost pale, and she wore a white dress with a red ribbon in her hair. The girl turned away and Riley followed her. When she reached the entryway, she saw the girl standing in the living room before she walked out of sight.

Riley entered the room and looked around, only to find no one else was there. But she could feel something with her; the hunter knew she wasn’t alone.

Turning around, she saw the mysterious girl was staring back at her. “Who are you, honey?”

The spirit was silent before she flickered and vanished.

Riley looked down at a red apple on the rug and picked it up before looking it over.

Dean yelled from across the house as Sam helped the girl to the front door. “Riley! Rye!” He came in the room to see her standing there frozen with the apple in her hand. “What happened?”

“I saw her.”

------

On the hood of the Impala, Riley and Dean sat together quietly. She still held the apple as she thought to herself and Dean scooted closer, trying to be inconspicuous.

“Hey,” Dean cleared his throat. “You, uh--you okay? I mean, we haven’t really talked since our fight. Are--are we okay?”

Riley sighed. “Dean,” she turned to face him. “We’ll always be okay. But I’m--” Sighing, Riley tried to find the words. “That doesn’t mean that you can’t break my heart sometimes.”

He didn’t know what to say. Dean hated how deeply she was hurting and yet there wasn’t a single moment that he doubted if he made the right decision in giving his soul for hers.

Riley needed to live; if not for herself, then for him.

The awkward silence was broken when Sam joined them. “Paramedics picked up Cinderella.”

“That's good,” Dean replied.

Tossing the apple to Sam, Riley looked up at him as he caught it. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yep,” he agreed. “Snow White.”

“Snow White?” Dean thought to himself before it clicked for him and he snapped his fingers. “Ah, I saw that movie--or the porn version anyway. There was this wicked Stepmother? Woo, she was wicked.” He grinned and the others just stared back.

Riley gave him an almost judgmental look. “Really, Dean? Fairytale porn?”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

“Pass. Anyway, in Snow White, there’s an evil stepmother who tries to kill Snow White with a poison apple.”

Sam nodded as he looked at the apple. “Right. Only it doesn’t kill her, just puts her into a deep sleep--so deep, it’s almost like she’s dead.”

“See?” Dean started as he went to the driver’s side of the Chevy. “This is why I don’t eat fruit.”

------

Riley and the boys had returned to the hospital again, looking for answers. One of the nurses was answering their questions as they all talked in the hallway.

“No, sorry. We don't have any comatose little girls. It's mostly old guys. And, well...Callie. She's been around since before I started here.”

“Callie?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, it's so sad. And poor Dr. Garrison, he just...won't give up on her.”

Riley put her hands in her back pockets. “So, she’s one of his patients?”

“No. His daughter.”

After the nurse had pointed them in the right direction, the three hunters found Callie’s room. Doctor Garrison sat at her bedside with glasses perched on his nose. He was reading to her from the book ‘Tales of the Brothers Grimm’.

Callie was a young, adult woman with long, straight black hair. She laid completely motionless on the bed with monitoring equipment around her. The girl was truly beautiful and a modern-day Snow White.

“...and the Huntsman stepped inside and in the bed lay the Wolf. So, the Huntsman took a pair of scissors and cut open the Wolf's belly.”

Sam, Dean, and Riley glanced at each other before Garrison noticed them. He put down the book and got up to walk over to the undercover detectives. Clearing his throat, he tried to compose himself.

Riley could feel that being around Callie in that state was always a constant reminder to him of what he’d lost. That was his little girl in that bed and there wasn’t a day his heart didn’t break for her. The hunter tried to keep herself together as the emotions flooded her.

“Detectives. Can I help you?” the doctor asked.

“We just…” Dean started, “heard that Callie is your daughter. We’re so very sorry.”

Nodding, Garrison began to make his way out of the room. “Well, uh--thank you. If you'll excuse me.”

Quickly, the three spun around to stay at his side. “Oh, heading this way? We'll walk with you,” Dean told him as nonchalantly as he could. “How long's Callie been like that?”

Riley nudged Dean letting him know she disapproved of his questioning. “Sir, I’m sorry. We’re not trying to intrude. I mean--there’s no way we could possibly even begin to understand what this has been like for you.”

“It's not easy. She's uh-- been here since she was eight years old.”

“That's when she was poisoned?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Swallowed, uh--bleach. Never figured out how she got her hands on the bottle. My wife found her--brought her to the ER here and I was on call.”

Trying to have a little more tact, Dean questioned gently, “your wife was, uh--was that Callie's stepmother?”

Doctor Garrison stopped walking and looked at Dean with curious and almost shocked eyes. “Actually, yes. How'd you know that?”

With a shrug, the Winchester tried to brush it off. “Lucky guess.”

“Well, Julie was the only mother that Callie ever knew. My wife passed away last year and...it's just my daughter and me now. She's all I've got left,” Garrison uttered as a knot grew in his throat. “Uh--if you’ll excuse me. I've gotta get back to work.”

“Yeah, of course,” Riley told him. As the doctor walked away, the three turned in the opposite direction. “One hundred percent...we’re talking Snow White.”

“Yep,” Sam agreed. “Step-mom poisons the girl, puts her into a deep sleep. What's the motive you think?”

“Could be like Mischa Barton,” Dean offered and Sam looked taken back. "‘Sixth Sense’ not the ‘O.C’.”

Riley turned to him, almost excited by the reference. “Oh, yeah. She played that sad ghost girl who was always getting sick. The mom had Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy and poisoned her--kid gets sick and mom gets all the attention.”

“So, say all these years, Callie's been suffering silently because nobody knows the truth about what mommy dearest did? And after all this time her spirit just gets angrier and angrier, until it finally just starts lashing out.”

They entered the reception area of the hospital and Riley kept the lookout for cops. “But that doesn’t tell us how we stop her. Callie’s stuck in her body because her dad’s keeping her alive. We can’t exactly burn the bones.”

“You think?” Sam replied with sarcasm.

EMT’s came rushing in with an old woman on a gurney. “Coming in! Seventy-two-year-old female, sustained multiple lacerations and puncture wounds. BP is eighty over forty and falling. Sinus tachycardia.”

The doctor looked her over noticing something on her neck. “Is that a bite?”

“We’re thinking she got mauled by a dog or something. Maybe a wolf?”

After overhearing the commotion, Dean turned to the others. “What was the last story Dr. Garrison was reading Callie?”

“It was Little Red Riding Hood,” Riley told him as she watched the injured woman disappear into the ER.

Only a short time later, the hunters saw them cover the old woman with a sheet. The doctors had already called her time of death.

“That means Little Red is probably next.”

A paramedic that had brought the old woman into the hospital passed by and Sam called for his attention. “Excuse me,” he and his siblings all showed their badges. “Was she the only victim?”

“She was found by the side of the road, barely alive. Alone.”

“We need to find her next of kin.” Dean’s face wreaked of urgency. Whenever there was a kid involved, he always grew more serious. “Does she have a granddaughter?”

“Uh--yeah…” the EMT answered almost in a question. “She’s her only family.”

“Do you have an address?” As Dean was handed the paper from the patient’s folder, he thanked the man and they all began to walk off. “Hey, you two find a way to stop Callie, alright? Rye, I have a feeling Sam’s gonna need your ‘Six Sense’ here.”

“Alright. But, sidebar? You’ve met your allotted quota of Haley Joel Osment references for the day,” she replied. “But what about you?”

“I'm gonna go stop the Big Bad Wolf,” he paused and tilted his head. “Which is the weirdest fucking thing I've ever said.” The older Winchester turned in the other direction and disappeared down the hall.

“Let’s go,” Sam said to Riley as they hurried to Doctor Garrison’s wing of the hospital.

Finally there, Riley stopped and looked around. “Ugh. This place gives me a headache. It’s too much.” She tried to shake it off and gather her thoughts before taking a deep breath. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’m gonna go look for Callie.”

They both saw the physician ahead of them and Riley gently nudged Sam to go after him before she went for Callie’s room.

“Doctor Garrison! I need to speak with you.”

“Detective. What can I do for you?”

“Well, um...it's about Callie.”

Taken back, the doctor looked at him more sternly. “My daughter? What about her?”

“You know maybe, maybe could we sit down for a minute?”

“No,” he said firmly with annoyance. “What about her?”

“Okay. Well um--” Sam paused trying to work up the nerve to tell Garrison the truth. “Alright, Doctor, this isn't gonna be easy. But what happened to Callie wasn’t an accident.”

“You have no idea what happened to my daughter.” Garrison turned to walk away, offended at Sam’s suggestion.

Still, the hunter just followed him. “There are things you don't know, Doctor, about your wife. Your wife poisoned Callie.”

The physician stopped and glared at Sam. “Why would you say something so horrible to me? You stay away from me and from my daughter, you understand?”

“Doctor, this isn't...please, uh--”

Doctor Garrison went into Callie’s room only to see Riley there at her bedside. She seemed to be muttering to herself as she reached out for Callie’s soul.

“What are you doing here? I’m calling security.” As the doctor reached for the phone on the wall, Sam sighed and shut the door behind them. His large arm crossed over Garrison and the Winchester clamped his hand over it to stop him.

“No, listen. We don't have time to do this gently. If you don't listen to me more people are going to get hurt, because Callie is going to hurt them.”

With eyes tightly shut, Riley tried to focus over the two bickering. “Sam, I need more time. She’s too scared to come out. I can feel her.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?!” The doctor was anxious as he looked back and forth between them both.

“You're gonna think we’re crazy, but just understand me. Your daughter Callie is still here. She's a spirit.”

Doctor Garrison looked over at Callie with a heavy heart. He sat at the end of her bed and turned back to Sam. “So, you've seen her too.”

Sam looked surprised as the doctor went on. Riley’s eyes went open as she waited for Callie.

“I sensed her...Callie. Her presence--her scent. I even saw her standing at the foot of my bed but I never…” Garrison paused as his voice broke. “...believed it, I thought I was dreaming, I--”

Riley took a few strides to be closer to the bed. “You weren’t dreaming, Doctor Garrison. Let me guess, she looked like she was still eight years old and had on a white dress with a red ribbon in her hair? She’s been trying to talk to you for so long now.”

“You're not cops, are you? So, who are you two?”

“Just some people who happen to know the truth about some things.”

“But what he said about my wife poisoning Callie,” Garrison said to Riley with pleading eyes. “That's--”

With a sigh, she looked at the girl in the bed. “I’m so sorry, but it’s true. In her own way...Callie told us.”

“No,” the doctor shook his head in denial. “My wife loved Callie. So, how is--how is that possible?” Taking a moment to think to himself, Garrison refused to accept what he was being told. “No. No, I--I don't believe you.”

“Sir, Callie is killing people. She is so desperate and angry because no one will listen. If I can help--please, just listen to your little girl.” Riley turned around to look into the empty corner of the room and could feel someone with them. She smiled as she said, “Callie, your dad’s here. He’s ready to listen.”

Callie’s spirit flickered in front of the hunter as the girl looked at her father, sad and forlorn.

Doctor Garrison gasped seeing her and his eyes welled. “I--I know I wasn't listening before, but I'm listening now. Please honey, is--is there any way that you can tell me?” Still afraid to know the answer, he asked her, “Is it true?” All the little girl could do was nod in response and the doctor sobbed. “Oh--I'm so sorry, baby. But, listen to me...you gotta stop what you're doing, okay? You're hurting people. I know everything now. I know the truth. It's time for you to let go. It's time for me to let you go.”

Slowly, Doctor Garrison stood and his hands shook as he turned to Callie’s body in the hospital bed. He caressed her face and kissed her forehead tenderly. Tears fell into her hair as he wept. “I love you.” The monitors began to buzz and flatline as Callie’s spirit was finally set free.

Riley looked back at where the girl had stood and her once sad face had a small smile as she was engulfed in light and disappeared. The hunter couldn’t help but cry with a little breathy chuckle of joy knowing she was finally at peace.

------

Back in front of the nurses’ station, Sam, Dean, and Riley joined Doctor Garrison. The grieving father looked at the hunters. “And the girl's okay?” When Dean nodded, Garrison sighed heavily. “So, it's really over.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “All thanks to you.”

“Callie was the most important thing in my life. But I should've let her go a long time ago.”

“Well,” Dean started as he reached to shake Garrison’s hand, “see ya ‘round, Doc.”

The doctor chuckled shakily and took the Winchester’s hand. “I sure hope not.” He patted Dean on the shoulder and walked away.

As they watched him turn the corner, Dean leaned into his partners. “You know, what he said? Some good advice.”

“Is that what you want us to do Dean?” Sam asked with a broken heart at his brother’s words. “Just let you go?” He refused to look away as Dean’s glance met Riley’s.

Her eyes had flooded with tears and she bit her trembling lip.

Dean reached for the side of her face and she closed her eyes at his touch. His thumb rubbed softly against her cheek to wipe away the tear that fell.

No one said anything as Dean’s turned to leave. Sam’s arm went around Riley and she clung to his side as they watched him walk alone down the corridor.

------

That night in their motel room, Riley and Sam moved swiftly through the darkness.

Dean was sound asleep and snoring as the other two got ready. His time was ticking away with each passing day and neither was willing to lose him.

Riley stopped to watch Dean sleep and she studied his face as she thought of how there was no mountain she wouldn’t move for that man.

Softly touching her arm, Sam let her know it was time to go. They gathered a bag of necessary items and snuck out of the room.

Sam and Riley took the Impala and drove into the night. Their heads were spinning but their goal was clear and that was all that mattered.

They stopped not far from a train track and parked the car. The whistle of the locomotive blew in the distance along with the chirping of the evening insects. It was a clear sky with a glowing full moon that lit the way as they walked into the center of a crossroads.

The hunters dug into the dirt and Sam crouched down with a box in his hand. Exhaling sharply, he added a photo ID of himself and Riley to the contents and closed the box. His hands grabbed at the dirt and filled the hole until he had buried the summoning box.

Sam stood and dust flew off his hands as he wiped them onto his jeans.

The two turned in circles, surveying the four routes at the crossroads. As they turned their backs, a woman in a black dress appeared. She had long flowing black hair and glowing tanned skin, her eyes blood-red as she eyed the hunters.

“Well, little Sammy Winchester and Riley Munroe,” she said and Sam spun around to face her. “I'm touched. I mean...Dean’s been to see me, but you two? I never had the pleasure.”

As Sam and Riley glared at her, their hearts raced.

The demon’s eyes returned to normal as a glimmer of pleasure came through her sinister smile. “What can I do for you?”

Drawing the Colt from his waistband, Sam pointed it at the demon and smiled with tight lips. “You can beg for your fucking life.”

“We were having such a nice conversation. Then you had to go and ruin the mood.”

“If I were you, I'd drop the wisecracks and start acting scared.”

Still grinning, the demon replied, “it's not my style.” She looked at the tampered-with gun and then back at the Winchester. “That's not the original Colt. Where did you get that?” When Sam didn’t answer, she had a realization. “Ruby--had to be. She is such a pain in my ass. She'll get what's coming to her...you can count on it.”

“We’re done talking,” Riley bit. “We’re here to make an offer.”

“You're gonna make me an offer?” she asked incredulously. “That's fucking adorable.”

Holding tightly to the pistol in his hand, Sam kept his aim. “You let Dean out of his deal right now. He lives, Riley lives--you live. Everyone goes home happy. Or…” He cocked the gun and stared her down. “You stop breathing--permanently.”

She laughed to herself. “Oh, all this tough talk. I have to tell you, it's not very convincing. I mean, come on Sam. Do you even want to break the deal?”

“What do you think?”

“I don't know. Aren't you tired of cleaning up Dean's messes? Of dealing with that broken psyche of his? Aren't you tired of being bossed around like a snot-nosed little brother? You're stronger than Dean. You're better than him. You and Riley would be better off without him.”

Sam’s jaw clenched with anger. “Watch your goddamn mouth.”

“Admit it. You're here, going through the motions. But truth is...you'll be a tiny bit relieved when he's gone.”

“Shut up,” he seethed.

“Sam…” Riley warned. “Don’t let it under your skin. That’s what she wants.”

Slowly, the crossroad demon sauntered closer as she continued to provoke him, enjoying every second of it. “No more desperate, sloppy, needy Dean. You can finally...be free.”

“I said shut the fuck up!” yelled with rage in his eyes.

Riley’s hand reached up to touch his extended arm, hoping to calm him.

“Huh,” the demon teased. “Doth protest too much if you ask me.”

“Cut the bullshit, alright? You let Dean out of this deal right now and you leave my sister alone. You hear me?”

“Sorry, sweetheart, but your brother's an adult. You yourself were going to make that deal for Riley, weren’t you? How are you any better than he is? Or any better than your fathers for that matter? No, Dean made that deal of his own free will, fair and square. It's ironclad.”

“Every deal can be broken. You won’t do it? Fine. I’ll kill you right here, right now. The deal’s gone if you are too.”

“Oh, Sam, I'm just a saleswoman. I got a boss like everybody. He holds the contract, not me. He wants Dean's soul, bad. And believe me, he's not going to let it go.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Riley snarked.

“Am I? Shoot me, if it'll get your rocks off. But the deal still holds and when Dean's time is up, he's getting dragged into the pit.”

“Then who's your boss?” Sam demanded. “Who holds the contract?”

“He's not as cuddly as me, I can tell you that much. I'm sorry, Sam. But there's no way outta this one. Not this time.”

Taking a few strides forward, Riley took a deep breath and clenched her fists trying to stop her shaking. “Tell him he can have me then.”

“What?!” Sam yelled. “No! Riley, what the fuck are you doing?” He grabbed her wrist and tried to pull her back, only for her to yank her hand away.

The demon grinned. “Interesting.” She got close to the hunter and looked her in the eye as her soulless red eyes returned. “You know, all of Hell wants you dead, Munroe. You shouldn’t make promises you won’t keep.”

“I’ll keep it. Take me. You leave Sam out go free and you let Dean out of his deal.”

“Oh, honey…” the evil woman took in a deep inhale of Riley’s scent and licked her lip. “You are too tempting. Believe me, I would love to be the one that drags you into the pit myself--especially after what you did to my coworker.” The demon chuckled under her breath and leaned in to whisper in Riley’s ear. “We know about you, Riley,” she hissed and the hunter flinched. “We know what you’re capable of. And yet…” Taking a few steps back, she sized Riley up. “you can’t get it up now, can you?”

Riley’s jaw clenched. “Don’t test me.”

With a laugh, the demon clicked her tongue. “You try to act so tough, like you’re just as strong as the big boys, but you’re just still a scared little girl. So much rage, but I don’t think you have the juice right now, do you? You’re not strong enough. Not since you came back.”

“You’re right,” Riley replied callously. “I’m not.” Sam was filled with dread and worry as he watched Riley face off with the demon. With a deadpan tone and no emotion, Riley uttered, “kill her, Sam.”

Before the demon could react, Sam’s gaze looked back at the red-eyed woman and he instantly pulled the trigger.

The bullet flew right between her eyes and her body jolted as electrical shocks ran through her body. Strong light from the currents reflected on her face until the possessed vessel finally fell to the ground, smoke slowly seeping from the bullet hole.

The two stood in the silence of night once again. With no more answers than they had before, the hunters were left in the middle of the crossroads.

With frustration, Sam blurted out, “what the fuck was that? We had a plan!”

“Yeah, well...she’s dead,” Riley answered as she turned to face him. “That was the plan either way.”

“What?” Sam took long steps until he was right in front of her and stared down at his sister. “You were just gonna sell your soul? How could you do that to me?”

Finally exploding with emotion, Riley shouted, “because we’re running out of time!” Tears ran down her face and she ran a hand through her hair. “I can’t...I can’t let him die, Sam. He can’t die for me.” Riley began to sob and her words were barely audible. “I can’t lose him.”

Sam wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as she cried into him. His hands rubbed her back and he rested his head on hers after kissing into her hair. “Shh. I know. We’re gonna get through this, Rye. We won’t let them take him.”

Sam was just as desperate to save Dean. He needed his brother more than he wanted to admit and Sam wasn’t sure if he could go on without him. Whether he said it or not, he loved Dean. He was more than a big brother; he was his best friend. But it was more than that. If Sam was being honest, he would admit that an eternity in Hell would be better than a life without his brother and sister.

It didn’t matter the cost, Sam and Riley were determined to save Dean. They both knew there was nothing they wouldn’t do to keep the hounds at bay. There was nothing they weren’t ready to sacrifice for each other.

It would take the end of the world to keep their family apart; and even if that day came, they would only go down together.

------

S3 Chapter 5: Red Sky at Morning

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morphituu · 7 years

Text

Burning

Hi hello. Here’s the deal- I’ve been seeing a plethora of these ‘imagines’ and ‘Y/N’ fics all over my dash, and honestly before i didn’t understand the appeal to them but the more i read them *snort* i wondered, ‘could i write one of these?’ because i NEVER write in first person.

and i don’t want to admit that it has anything to do with my obsession for TWD or Norman Reedus so we won’t acknowledge that.

but here it is, my first attempt at a Y/N prompt? can i call it a prompt? imagine- i’m gonna call it a prompt OKAY? Summary and smut down below. ha, puns. ha.

Basic premise- you’re a new character on the set of The Walking Dead and have only been on set for a few weeks. The crew has “adopted” you into their little family, but you’ve clicked with Norman. You two follow each other around often and spend free time together, but while on location, your boyfriend of 7 years cheats on you and shatters your peace. Distraught and despondent, Norman does his best to keep you distracted and your spirits up, and one day suggests a different method of a distraction.

Without further ado- enjoy!

You stretched your legs out before you, but the ache still remains. Even in the shade, hiding from the Atlanta sun, you feel the heat plastered to you like a wet sheet. And even as you tell yourself that severing all ties to him after he cheated is the best, the hole blown through your heart still stings. A week seemed long enough to start feeling some sort of normal in the wake of the break-up, but pushing down the emotions and hiding from most has left you feeling tense- like a kink in your back you can’t crack. And in moments like this, alone, left to your thoughts between scenes, your mind runs rampant. You wanna ask him the details, even though you know it’ll only make it worse.

You want to know exactly how it happened, because then maybe it’ll answer the why. But you don’t. You ended it and arranged for your belongings to be moved from your- his house, and force yourself to put the phone down every time you’re tempted to call him. It stings, always, and aches, constantly, but you push it down and do your work.

With a slow exhale you blink back the tears stinging your eyes and look back up when you hear Gregg yell, “Cut!”

Norman and Andy finish their scene, but now it’s time for yours and Lauren’s. There’s still time before it’s ready, so you’ll sit a little longer in the shade-

“Why you keep hiding from everyone?” You hear Norman ask, and look up again in time to see him strolling towards you with a cold water bottle in hand. You force a grin.

“Why would I wanna be out in the sun?” You ask as he sits beside you, pulling his phone out.

“That’s not what I asked.” He says, but you chose to nibble on your lip instead. He’s noticed- he always does when you’re upset. Since the day you arrived on set, you two have grown close and naturally fell into a friendship. As you can read him, he can you. It’s hard to hide it when the moment gets to you, but you do your best to shield your eyes and calm your shaking voice.

He keeps scrolling through his phone, but he’s still waiting and looks at you often from behind his shaggy hair.

It’s making you nervous. You want to keep a lid on it, but pried too much, you’re worried you’ll boil over. The words are crawling up your throat- the moisture is in your eyes.

“Hey.” He mumbles. One look, and he sees it.

“Did something bad happen?” His phone is put down, and he’s looking at you with concern in his narrow eyes.

No, please not here- not now.

“Um-,” you stutter, and he turns on his bottom to face you a little more.

“He cheated on me.” You let out, like a breath you’ve been holding for too long. Norman knows who you’re talking about right away- this has been a concern of yours before you’ve expressed to him in confidence.

“What? When?” He asked quietly.

You look down at your fumbling hands that are now holding your excerpt of the script. “About a week ago.” You say. Norman exhales hard, and you pinch your eyes shut when he places a hand on your back.

“Y/N I’m so-,” but there’s another call from Gregg, and it’s time for your scene. You wipe away the tears threatening to spill over, and you swallow the sorrow.

“I’m okay- it’s okay, I gotta go.” You rush, standing and dusting your bottom and legs before jogging over. For once, the sun beating on your back is a welcome sensation. Anything but the ache in your heart.

The day is finally over. What was once afternoons filled with what you love to do is now just… difficult. You can’t bring forth the correct emotions for the right scenes, and you can’t stop yourself from hiding every chance you get. How much longer could this go on for?

The night is still warm, but at least the sun isn’t burning your skin.

You walk without direction towards your trailer, and you can feel the shower calling to your soul. But as you look up from your phone, which to your inner dismay had no missed calls or attempted messages, you find Norman sitting at the steps, the embers of a cigarette in hand.

He grins at you, and you squeeze onto the steps beside him. Your arms and thighs are touching, and the contact feels nice.

“I’m not gonna pry, but I wanna make sure you’re some sort of okay.” He explains, pulling in a drag and blowing the smoke away from you. You shrug.

“Okay as I can be, I guess.” You mutter, kicking gravel with your dirty boots.

“I’ve been there, I know what it’s like to have to carry it. He did it, but he did it to you. Now you have to deal with the end. So if you need someone to talk to or just sit next to- I’m here.” He tells you. His gravelly voice is soft, and it makes you grin. He was the only one who knew at this point, and even if details were still foggy, it was nice knowing you had someone to lean on.

“Does anything help?” You ask, flicking the end of his cig for him when the ash piles up.

“Sometimes- distractions can help but you walk back to where you left it to deal with later. And I hate to say but it gets worse before it gets better. But don’t keep that junk bottled in. If you gotta cry, let it out. It’s like poison, you gotta bleed it out.” He tells you, his expressive hands captivating you.

“Wanna suck it out for me?” You joke, and he snorts.

“You pervert.” He says with an elbow in your side.

“I know you wanna get in my pants.” You tease. He gives you a crooked grin and a sidelong glance.

“I’ll keep your secrets if you keep mine.” He coos. You roll your eyes and push on his shoulder before standing.

“I gotta shower.” You tell him, stretching your arms above your head. He stands then, flicking his butt into the dirt. “I’m fifteen feet away if you need me.” He says, giving you a quick peck on the cheek that you respond to with a pat on his side. You two part ways, but your eyes find him before walking into your trailer. His do also.

You feel your cheeks flush, but think nothing more of it.

But when you’re done scrubbing your skin of makeup and sweat, and are sitting alone in the luxurious trailer with anything you could want… you find loneliness instead. And with that, comes the thoughts. With your head hung in your hands, you think about Norman and his offer. But you don’t want to bother him.

You flip through your phone. Your flush bank account could handle some splurging on Amazon, but nah. That’s a bandaid over a bullet wound.

Your thumbs seek out your friends name, and you text:

I need a Walker to come eat my brains x(

With the phone placed on your stomach, you sit back and turn the TV on. Bzzzzzz.

Or you need a better distraction

You shrug.

Maybe i should run a marathon at 11 at night

Bzzzzzz.

Eat 13 pizzas instead

Now you giggle.

I can’t even eat 1 alone

That’s a lie I can eat 1 easily

As you open a pizza app on your phone and start to setup an order, he replies again.

Is that an invitation because yes I like my pizza with sausage I’ll be over in 10

You snort, but add Norman’s toppings anyways.

The following morning, you step out of your trailer just as the sun is peeking over the trees. You groan, and smack your cheeks a couple times.

“Too much pizza?” Comes Norman’s voice. He’s already clad in Daryl, and dirty, holding a coffee mug and cigarette in hand.

“Too much is an understatement. I feel like I’m dying.” You mumble, grabbing the mug from his hand to drink some of it.

“And on the forest run, too.” He says with a smile. You groan again and walk away with his mug, but he just chuckles at you. On top of your blood sugar fluctuating from all the carbs in the pizza, you two had stayed up too late, laughing and watching bad movies, but also just talking. It was easy, and comfortable to open up to him, and you were thankful the entire time he’d been nearby that your mind hadn’t strayed to darker corners. But now you were paying for it, at five in the fucking morning. He was a seasoned actor- he knew how to function on little sleep.

The summer heat crawled up quickly, and to your dismay, it took far too many takes for each scene to complete the forest run that day. Even if some of the delays were from you giggling when Norman would crack a joke as he ran behind you, by the end of the day, you were exhausted.

But that’s when it was revealed there’d be a night shoot that evening. More of an emotional scene between you and Norman. That worried you. You’d purposely been keeping sadder emotions at bay.

But now you were sat there against a tree with Norman in the dark, waiting for the rest of the crew to set up. Your eyes remained closed as you went over the lines in your head, but you could already feel a tightly closed lid loosening inside- to portray such feelings but keep others quiet would be tricky.

“You look like you’re about to puke.” Norman says under his breath. You smile.

“I’ll aim for you.”

He chuckles, but still looks at you. “You alright?” He asks. Your eyes open, and you turn to look at him.

“I’m always kind of on the edge of okay and… breaking? Is that too dramatic?” You ask, pulling your knees closer to your chest.

“I mean a little bit.” He starts to say, and you elbow him. “But I get it. But- maybe you need to take a day and let yourself feel it ‘n get it out.” He offers, but you shake your head.

“I don’t wanna feel it.” You sigh. And then it’s time to shot the scene, and you shake your head, square your shoulders and clear your throat. Time to shift into character.

You’re lying face down on your bed when you hear your phone buzz, but you don’t want to face anyone. It had been a disaster. You couldn’t keep a cap on your emotions in the scene, and then couldn’t stop when it bubbled over. It was so, so embarrassing to not finish. So you walked away even after they said it was okay and they could try another night. You’re hiding now, even from Norman who followed you to your car and watched you drive away to your apartment.

Your phone kept buzzing, but you didn’t want to explain yourself to anyone. And you kept crying, silently, and sniffling. It wasn’t as powerful now, and the last of the sadness was leaking from you, but ugh. This sucked.

But three fast knocks on your front door make you jump, and you sit up and look around. Three more come.

“Y/N?”

It was Norman. You sigh and roll your eyes, but shuffle across your place nonetheless and to the door.

“Yeah?” You ask, leaning your head against the door.

“You okay?” He asks, his voice muffled by the door. You smush your face against the door.

“No.” You croak. You can hear him shift against the door.

“Snuck up on you, huh?” He asks. You nod. “Yeah.” Your voice is betraying you.

“After this is when it’ll start getting better.” He says, hoping it’ll help. Your eyes pinch tight, and your hand moves to unlock the door and open it.

There you stand, still dirty and disheveled, with your face red and twisted and your eyes swollen. “How?” You ask, a hiccup of a cry coming out.

“Oh babe.” He whines, and without another word he steps in and pulls you into a bone crushing hug. His strong arms and broad chest cradle you like you’ve needed for weeks. He doesn’t mind that you cry against his shoulder, and that you cling to him like he’s your life line.

“He worked with her. I’ve even met her before.” You tell him, stuffing another chicharrón in your mouth.

“You fuckin’ kidding me?” He asks, looking at you. You shake your head.

“Good riddance.” Norman mumbles, finishing the last of his drink.

“I wish I could just move on from it like he so easily has.” You say.

“He try calling you?” He asks.

“Not once. Not even a text.”

He exhales. “In a sense it’s better. Do you think you would’ve gotten this far with him bugging you?” He asks.

“I’d like to say I’m solid as stone and would ignore him, but I probably wouldn’t. I’m a guppy.” You say, sipping your drink. He chuckles.

“Well, at this point all you need now is some fun to make up for the bad couple a weeks.” He says, and you look at him with red eyes.

“Fun?” You repeat. He nods, adjusting his snap-back on his head.

What you didn’t know then was that Norman’s idea of fun was literally leaving you no time for yourself.

Everyday, he’d be following you around, purposely bugging you because he’d know that eventually you’d become so annoyed you’d start chasing him back, but it’d bring a smile to your face.

Some days he’d pull you from your seat after shooting, and take you out somewhere. Sometimes lunch, sometimes breakfast, even. You two were always met with fans. A small herd of your own but a mob always after him, and you started to notice people taking pictures of the two of you the more you came out in public together.

Other days were spent lounging together or the others, sometimes at bars at night when everyone was feeling lively. He carried you from the car one night when you were too drunk to walk, and he made it a point to snap a picture of the two of you as you hung upside down half off your bed. It was a hit on Instagram, and that’s when rumors started circulating.

You didn’t know how he felt about them, but he never bothered you about it, either.

But there was something, scratching at you, making you question just how in tact your emotional state was.

Every time he popped up with a handsome smile, you felt your body get hot. Your cheeks sometimes flushed and your heart would kick up a bit. When your arms would touch or he’d pose with you for a picture, pressing full against you, you started to feel something stir in your belly. Was this lust?

Shooting for this season was on break- two weeks of relaxing you looked forward to, but tomorrow was your first Con. All of you had flown in for it, and were all situated in your hotel rooms, but the jet lag was making you miserable. This whole new routine and sleeping schedule was killing you.

It was nice to just lay in the plush bed and watch mindless TV. The last month had been full, and fun no doubt, but even in spare minutes before you eventually asleep, why would your mind wander back to him? With a sigh, you tried to think of other things. You blinked a couple times, and your thighs shift as your thoughts wander to Norman.

“Y/N!”

Well speak of the devil. You crawl from your bed and to the door, opening it to find him still in the clothes he wore on the plane. How did he look so good in just a T-shirt and jeans?

“Already goin’ to bed?” He asked, and you shrug.

“The Con is tomorrow.” You say, walking away as he follows you in.

“That’s not till eleven.” He says, and you hear the door close behind him.

“Jet lag.” You sigh as you fall back onto the bed, stretching across the cool covers. “So I couldn’t get you to come have drinks with me?” He asks, giving you a cheesy smile.

“M-mm.” You mumble, pulling the pillow closer for emphasis.

He cocks his head to the side, and studies your face.

“You wandering away?” He asks. How does he always know?

“Is it bad if I am?” You ask him. He shakes his head.

“Just tread carefully.” He mumbles, giving you a small grin. You stare at him, staring at you, and you swear the electricity in the room is growing.

“Guess there’s just not enough distractions in the world to keep me completely occupied.” You said, lying on your back to better face him. He shrugs.

“Maybe we’re not using the right one.” He says. His voice lowered, deepened, and so did the light of his eyes. You cock an eyebrow as he does.

“Are you- do you mean sex?” You ask outright, and he shrugs, leaning onto one leg.

Your cheeks flush and you hope he doesn’t see it.

“With who?” You ask loudly.

“Who else?” He asks with a laugh. Your eyebrows raise, and the coil in your stomach is tightening. That, was a very tempting idea.

“Are you offering your services?” You ask him, your hand moving to the remote and turning the TV off.

“Can’t say that it hasn’t crossed my mind before.” He admits, turning the bill of his hat backwards. That makes you grin, and you hope he can’t see you shaking.

“You’ve thought about us?” You ask, pulling your knees up a little. He takes a step closer to the bed, now leaning against the edge.

“You haven’t?” He asks. You don’t acknowledge the question, but you’re sure he can see it on you that you’ve downright fantasized about it before.

You sit up on your elbows. “So how would this distraction work?” You ask, playing dumb. You just wanted to hear him say it. You feel goosebumps rise on your skin when his hand rests on your knee, and his thumb presses on your kneecap.

“Honestly, we can go slow or I can fuck you until you scream.” He says. There’s a feral spark in his eye when he says this, and all at once your body is vibrating with want. Pure, raw, want. But you can’t decide! There’s no doubt you could make it quick and have him slamming into you, but a better portion of you wanted to savor this. Savor him.

“Slow.” You say, barely a whisper.

Everything shifted- atmosphere, bodies, emotions.

His hat was the first to go, followed by his shirt, tossed aside and revealing his broad chest and sparse tattoos- oh god, you wanted so many times to touch it. And Jesusthatwafastwhathappenedtoslow?

He wasn’t shy about pushing your knees apart so he could crawl to you. Your inner thighs brushing against his sides made you flutter, and your trembling hands moved to the back of his head when he pressed his face against your neck, his toned arms moving around and under you.

In one swift pull, he had you laying flat, and in one smooth slide of his hands, he was pushing your shirt up along the skin of your sides. Shivers followed his fingers across your shoulder blades to push your shirt up and off your head. Your eyes met for a chaste moment- his cold blues were burning, desiring- hungry.

“Norman-,” you gasp, and he leans down to place open mouthed kisses across your chest, back and forth, his teeth sometimes nipping the tops of your breasts gently. The scruff on his chin tickle, but in the mot delicious of ways.

You breathe loudly, already dizzy, and your hands tangle in his long hair. You can feel his tongue against your skin, at the edge of your bra, searching. An involuntary arch in your back pushes him to yank the undergarment down, and his mouth immediately envelopes your standing nipple. He groans loudly, his hand pulling your leg up and around him.

You don’t know what to do- this is almost too much, almost too good. When his mouth is on one nipple, his hand is working the other, making you writhe and stir beneath him.

“Please please please…” you hear yourself beg, breathlessly, and he parts from your skin.

“Tell me whatcha want.” He slurs against your stomach, making his way farther down. The words don’t come out complete- it’s muddled, and more of a beg, but a rock of your hips makes it clear. You’ve never burned for this so badly.

But he sits up, his hands running down your thighs that are against his hips. He looks messy, but so sexy. His mouth is open in heavy breaths- is he as turned on by this as you are?

“Slow?” He asks, his voice cracking.

You nod, but still whisper, “Slow.”

He keeps his eyes on yours as his fingers undo your jeans and hook around your pants and panties.

And he slides them down, slowly, one leg at a time he lifts by your ankle so he can also pull off your socks. Your mostly naked before him in the dim lit room, and he’s not shy about looking over all of you. As he leans back towards you, a large hand cups your sex, making you jump.

You cling to him, and your eyes flutter as he pushes one finger between your lips.

“He was a damn fool to let you go.” He says, and as he dips down to kiss your neck, his two fingers start circling your clit, slowly, carefully, expertly.

Your head drops back and you moan so long. You grip the sheets below you, and his body pressed against yours is making you so hot, but you love it, and you need it. Your head lifts again and you move his hair away so you can kiss along his neck in return, gently biting at his skin. You hear him groan, and suddenly you’re yelping as he pushes his fingers into you. You try and keep at what you were doing, but every time he curls his fingers in and up, he hits it- that spot that makes your body react out of your control.

“Oh my god-,” you force out, taking a second to look down at his large hand working wonders.

“Tell me what you want.” He says softly, kissing your cheek as you lay back down. You force your eyes open, and look up at him, hidden by his hair. You want to see those narrow eyes that have left you captivated before, stuck in place as he lured you in.

“You.” You gasp, your arms stretching out beside you. Your stomach is tightening, the pleasure is building.

“I want you.” You say again as he kisses closer to your mouth, and then full on your lips when your mouth searches for his. This is exactly where you want him. He kisses you harshly, beautifully, his tongue shoving into your mouth and making you moan. You feel his hand leaving you, but can hear his belt unclasping and feel him pushing his jeans and boxers down his hips.

He pulls from your mouth but stays close, and you can feel him exhale against your lips when he starts to push into you. You hiss inwardly, lifting your ass up as he sinks into you until his balls touch your cheeks. He’s trembling now, and his eyes are closed with his hands planted against the bed on either side of you. You’re filled, completely, in spots you’ve never been touched before.

Then out, slowly, and back in, a little quicker.

It. Was. Torture.

But you loved it.

He kissed you sparingly, not wanting to stifle those long moans coming from you. He looked down often, watching himself disappear in you again and again, his pelvis pressing as tight to yours as possible every time.

“Noman…” You sigh, and his face follows yours when your head moves side to side. His lips find your jaw, and he kisses there sloppily.

“Tell me watcha want.” He says again, unable to keep his own eyes open.

You look straight up at him when you say, “Faster.”

You caught the crooked grin and his K-9 peeking from behind his lip before he quickens, smoothly transitioning into a new speed. It was the friction, and slam, and then the all desirable slide of him pushing back in every time. That, over and over had you seeing stars, and your hands gripping the sheets beside you desperately, trying not to float away as loud gasps and moans in his name tumbled from your lips.

But you wanted more.

“Harder.” You moan, and his hips have more of a roll to them as he comes back down, pushing you farther into the bed. He’s moaning too, leaning down onto his elbows closer to you. You liked this more- to be able to curl your arms around him, to hear him say your name against your hair.

“Fuck me!” You beg suddenly, and his body is from yours as he sits up, shoving his knees under your thighs and his hands angling your hips higher up.

And he’s pounding into you, branding you lovingly against the sheets mercilessly. You yell out, over and over, the sound of your hips smacking together filling the room.

“Oh fuck Y/N-,” you hear him force out, his head hanging back and his mouth hung open. “You feel so good.” He moans, shakily, closing his eyes. The fire in your stomach is building rapidly, smothering you, consuming everything. And with a few more fast slams into you-

You’re aching off the bed, screaming- his name, curses, things that don’t make sense. All that matters is the white, hot explosion touching every corner of your body, massaging all the aches you’ve had for so long. Just as quickly as it flew through you, it’s ebbing from your system, leaving you floating. You look at him again with half lidded eyes, and he’s also cum but all over your stomach. He’s winded, and still holding your hips, but he grins at you lazily. You can’t help but smile back before letting your head fall back against the bed.

There’s no tension left in you; no bitter feelings to follow you to sleep after he kisses you once, twice, three times and tells you he’ll see you tomorrow. But you’re stuck there, feeling the aftershocks of it, and enjoying the jelly like feeling of your limbs. With a hand raised, you flip off the light beside you, and let a calm sleep slowly rock you that night.

There was no nervousness last night afterwards, so why is it hitting you like a bus this morning? You stare at your door, worried you’ll run into Norman. Not that you regret anything- definitely not that, but you’re nervous he will. You adjust your clothing and slip your phone into your back pocket.

You try and walk out the door with confidence, but you stumble a bit as you turn to make sure it’s locked-

You don’t expect there to be a small, plain black bag hanging on the door knob, but there is. Your heart flutters a bit, and you look to your sides. Your hands try not to grab for it excitedly, but you pull out the candy cigarettes and the note attached quickly.

Thought you could use a smoke after the sex.

-N

You smile to yourself and look at the cigs- chocolate flavored. You place the bag back on the door knob but hold the candy, walking briskly towards the elevator.

You don’t see him again until the panel, and despite you coming out at different times once your names are announced, he switches name plaques so he can sit beside you. You try to hide your blush by drinking water, but he still catches it. The questions roll in, as does the laughter and jokes that naturally come from Con panels, but every so often his knee will bump yours playfully, or his arms will stretch and he’ll place his against the back of your chair. Still, you try and hide your smile.

At the booths, you two are separate. Him being Norman Reedus, he has his own. You being you, you share. But your somewhat thankful for the break- you were starting to get clumsy being around him and listening to him talk, sometimes whisper jokes to you. You sign photos and meet fans, and your heart hasn’t felt this light in weeks. Every so often you’ll steal a glance in his direction, and sometimes he’ll be looking at you, too.

When the crowds were dying down and it was time to leave, your booth was empty as were the others, but his still had some people left, as always.

You chose to wait, leaning against a backdrop behind the line before him and out of sight by most. With a grin, you open the candy and pop a chocolate cigarette in your mouth, hoping it’ll grab his attention.

It takes some time, but when he does, he grins. The hand that was adjusting his hat waves to you, and that causes the fans before him to turn and look at you. Your mind wanders backwards- to last night.

How he felt, sounded; made you feel and sound.

It was in that moment you realize you wanted him again.

You’ve been waiting a while, and going over the words in your head. You don’t wanna sound desperate, but then again you kind of are… He kept running into groups that wanted photos, or signatures, sometimes a lick on the cheek. You asked your driver to wait so you could lean against the back door that your other cast mates snuck out of, and he was now finally coming out.

“Always such a commodity.” You say as he walks by, and he turns, grinning when he sees you.

“You had a bite of it- worth it?” He asks, his eyes hidden by his Ray Bans.

You nod with a sheepish smile instead, pressing against the wall as he walks to you.

“So the whole distraction thing- it a one time deal?” You ask with a shaking voice, but he shrugs. That was bold of you- you’re not the type to be so forward, especially when it comes to sex. But how could you not want more?

“I dunno- how often you space out?” He asks, standing close to you. You swallow, but say, “Quite a bit.”

“Told you I’m here if you need anything.” He says softly, licking his lips. You feel your breathing hitch.

“Anything?” You ask, and he nods. Your head tilts up involuntarily when his lips are closer to yours, and he presses feathlight kisses on your mouth.

“So if I said I was having a particularly distracting day- maybe needed some- some…,” you try and find the words, but he’s still brushing his lips against yours, and his hands are against the wall behind you, pinning you in place.

“You’re gonna have to wait- got some stuff t’do.” He mumbled against your neck, giving you a light smooch.

You giggle, and push on his chest. “Meet you later than?” You ask. He nods, giving your hips a little wiggle and a kiss on your cheek. Then he’s walking away, and you catch him adjusting himself in his pants.

You’re hot again, and a little wobbly as you walk to your driver.

You were laying in your bed watching TV when your phone buzzed beside you. Sleep had just started to tug at your eyelids, but a message from Norman woke you right up.

Meet me at my room ;p

You poked your head out first before entering the hallway. It was almost midnight, but anyone could come strolling by, especially a fan that would love to see you sneaking around. You came to his door and knocked, but he didn’t answer. Again, and again, there was only silence from the other side. You pulled your phone out.

I’m here

He read it, but no answer. You started to panic- what if this was all a cruel joke? Would he really do that? What if-

But strong arms from behind you made you jump and yell, and you spin in his arms to catch him laughing. You tried to curse at him, but he smother you with a kiss, one so urgent that you couldn’t help but pull him closer. He pinned you against the door with his body, his hands moving over you and yours fumbling to cling to him.

“Distracted?” He asks against your mouth.

“M-mm- not enough-“ you mumble, and without looking, he clumsily pushes his card key into the door and pushes you inside, slamming the door behind you two.

It was an unspoken agreement you two had somehow come to make. It wasn’t just a distraction for you anymore, because Norman would seek you out just as often. Whether it was him sneaking you back to your room that morning, or him meeting you in the early morning at your trailer when filming resumed. He called them ‘Five AM Fucks’. Pfft.

It was a constant time to look forward to.

One time, you two had been exchanging suggestive stares all day, and seeing him as Daryl always made you more excited than usual. You casually walked away after cutting scene, and made sure his eyes were following when you walked around the back of his trailer. You waited patiently until he could find a moment to slip away, and you looked at him as he finally walked towards you, flicking his cigarette to the ground and swooping in for a kiss. That day, he held you up against the trailer as he fucked you, holding his hand over your mouth so no one would hear when he made you cum.

In the thick of the trees during lunch, he’d be hungrier for a different snack. Your chest against a tree and him rutting into you from behind was a quick fix, and you loved it when he’d lean forward to rest his forehead against your back, hissing your name in rhythm with his hips.

Late nights, when neither of you could sleep, one of you would take a drive across town and have the door unlocked so when either would arrive, you could walk in, undress, and crawl into bed. Of course food would come soon after, and always a movie before you fell asleep tangled in each other.

Rumors were starting to circulate- even when sex wasn’t the aim, you two were by each other’s side even out in public. Dinner, bars, shopping, Cons- almost everything. The two of you would read it online, but neither brought it up. This unspoken thing was too good to spoil.

You were becoming bolder in your escapades, taking any available chance to let him slip in.

You heard the call to set from inside his trailer, but you could barely lift your head as you stifled a loud moan.

“Norman- ahh, we have t’go!” You whisper, but he shakes his head, which in turn makes his mouth slide back and forth across your clit. You gasp, and laugh, but your thighs on his shoulders shift.

“C’mon we gotta gooo!” You plead, but he looks up at you, and parts to suck his fingers.

“Almost done.” He mumbles before sucking your clit again, and as your brow cocks, his fingers slide into you and rapidly rub against your spot. In no time you’re seeing stars. But he doesn’t stop his assault until you’re shaking, and convulsing, begging him to stop. When he finally does, you’re a puddle that’s unable to move with your pants around one ankle. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and smiled down at you, completely spent.

“Apparently you know my body better than I do.” You mumble, and he laughs, and kisses your inner thigh before standing.

“You owe me.” He says before leaving, and you scoff.

It was a quiet night, after sex, when you were still naked and lying on his bed. His sheets felt so good, and you laid on your stomach, your body still ringing. Your hair was still in a loose towel, but the other towel barely covered your ass. He invited you over after shooting the final scene, and you both agreed you were too filthy to jump right into sex despite being ready to throw your clothes off. A shower together was the only logical solution. He had literally pulled out of his car and nearly brought you down with him a he tumbled inside his home.

From the steaming water to a cool bedroom with dim lights- it felt so relaxing.

You heard him walk in from the living room, and suspected he was still in a towel wrapped around his narrow hips. But you couldn’t move, or even wanted to. So you kept your eyes closed.

And you expected him to lay down beside you, but you could hear him walking around the bed and sitting beside you instead. You cracked an eye open, and listened. You tried not to jitter when his hand ran the length of your bare back, but goosebumps followed his hand. And when you felt him lean over to kiss your shoulder, then shoulder blade, moving down, you arched a little. The scruff of his goatee was a welcome sensation.

You started to move more as his fingers pushed under your towel, and his mouth moved back up to nibble on your earlobe. With a giggle and twisting to look back at him, he slid his free arm under your neck to angle your jaw towards him, and kissed you.

You moan against his mouth, and finish laying on your back so you can pull him over you.

Now his towel is gone, and he’s pressing against you everywhere. Chest, stomach, thighs- it feels euphoric. There’s absolutely no doubt in your mind as you kiss him lovingly that you’ve started to fall for him- hard. You don’t know if he has for you, but for once, you don’t worry about it. In these moments, there’s no real thinking.

With an easy push on his chest, you’re on top now, your bare chest against his and his hands running up to hold your face.

You don’t understand why he pushes you away enough to hold you there, your wet hair fanning around you two and his eyes boring into yours. He looks unreadable, but so serine.

And you don’t understand why he grins at you, or why he’s pulling you into a hug, his face buried against your chest, but you don’t mind it. You hold him back, your naked bodies sliding together and rolling until he’s above you again.

It was like your first time with him- he’s close to your face, and you can feel his breath when he aligns himself and slips in you. Now you hold his cheeks, and widen your legs, savoring the slow pumps, in and out. He draws to his tip and then dives back in, kissing you every time he does.

There’s something different about the way he touches you this time. His hands are sliding everywhere, his mouth is kissing every inch of exposed skin, and he’s taking his time in building you up. Your hands are mapping his solid back, and wide shoulders, and your lips are kissing the sun kissed portion of his chest that peaks through his shirts. His age is beautiful; everything about him is.

The times he does slam into you harder; he’ll hold a hand around your jaw and make you look up at him as if he’s studying your face, and how you gasp and groan, or how you’re barely able to keep focused on him.

You’re getting impatient though, and braver. Again and for the last time you roll, and you pin his arms down knowing full well he could break from your hold. But you start the rhythm, and set the pace.

Now he can marvel up at you, his large hands running flat up your stomach, up your ribs and holding your breasts. You moan loud, and long, and hold his hands there with your head tilted back, riding him, feeling his slick dick slide in and out, in and out.

“Say my name again.” He moans, his narrow eyes running along your body.

“Norman…” You gasp, your head still tilted back. It’s building again.

“Again.” He demands, now holding your ribs.

“Norman-,” you whine, and feel a shutter of pleasure shake you. It sends you forward onto your hands against his chest, but you keep going.

In a flash, he’s pushed you backwards until he’s between your thighs, and the tempo has increased.

Slap slap slap slap slap

The steady pace is bringing you closer, making you cling to him desperately, wanting that exploding release.

“Say my name, Y/N.” He forces out, but you scream it this time as you climax, and he’s leaning up so you can arch off the bed, and drag your nails down his back when you curl inwards. Between it all, you heard him curse and shout your name against your neck, and this time he explodes inside you. You enjoyed how he pumped languidly into you, emptying himself, and you loved that it allowed him to lay over you and kiss you. You move his long hair from his face and kiss his slim cheeks as he buries his face against you, not wanting to move from this spot.

It all felt so perfect, so complete.

With your hands running up and down his back, and his fingers hidden in your hair splayed out around your hair, you two hold each other. Content, blissfully floating in the after. You kiss his shoulder and whisper his name, and he does the same, eliciting more shivers. But this is when you start to ask yourself:

What are we doing here? What have we done to each other? Where do we go now?

SEE NOW this was supposed to just be something fun and not continuing but me being me IT NEEDS A PART TWO NOW DAMNIT. Ugh.

anyway, anyone, who has stopped to read this, i hope you enjoyed it n_n if you steal, tamper or do anything malicious with this i’ll find you and break your legs with a lead pipe. just sayin’.

and i’m going to shamelessly inert the link to my Daryl Dixon fanfiction here, because i’m much more into that and appreciate a read for that also! <3 thanks!

#norman reedus #norman reedus smut #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus one shot #two shot #haha #norman reedus imagine #the walking dead #the walking dead smut #twd smut #the walking dead imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #daryl dixon #gringo #morphinetune #twd

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