Don’t Scream

Rare Variant Cover

Pairing: Jason Todd / AFAB Reader

Fandom: Batman (DC Comics)

Word Count: 3100+

Tags: SFW, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Pre-Relationship

Synopsis: Your first meeting is inside a second-hand bookstore. Jason leaves the store in a rage and it’s all your fault.

You had been leaning against the counter with your arms crossed for over half an hour, silently following the young man with your watchful gaze. The first time he entered your store, he greeted you with a kind smile and you in turn answered with a typical friendly shop assistant's welcome. Since then he had been browsing through the rows and rows of books stacked in every nook and cranny of the room.

Most of the time you knew at first glance why someone entered your second hand bookstore and what they were looking for. It was a fun little game you played with yourself. What genre did they prefer to read? What kind of book did they want to buy? What were their favorite tropes?

Collectors looking for coveted first editions of rare classics; thrifty shoppers who wanted to experience exciting literature for a small price; walk-in customers who strolled into the store out of sheer curiosity after standing in front of the window for several minutes; library staff who tried to buy back destroyed copies of their inventory, even if they were long out of print.

After several years of selling books to avid readers, you were able to assess most of the customers who entered your store. This one was different. You just couldn't figure him out. This man looked like he could crush Superman with his thighs. He was wearing full biking gear sans the helmet, explaining the motorcycle in front of the store. He was about your age. Definitely not a teenager anymore, but it was hard to gauge exactly how old. Mid to late twenties, maybe.

He looked like a thug. Anyone would forgive you for your suspicion after he stepped into the store, clad in leather from head to toe. It wouldn't be the first time you had been mugged. It was Gotham, after all. You had seen your fair share of robberies. Why someone thought it was a good idea to rob a bookshop though, you still couldn't explain.

In the end it was the way the stranger handled the books, convincing you that he was most likely more harmless than he looked. Every time he pulled one book from the shelf, he supported the spine with one hand and turned the pages gently, cautious of never wrinkling the paper. Every single book was treated with almost loving care, as if they were living beings with heart and soul.

If he started a discussion about literature with you now, you would be convinced that this was a dream. A man this good looking sharing one of your favorite hobbies and appearing to be a gentle giant? Impossible, right?

So you should also be forgiven for your suspicious stares turning into rapturous glances.

His back was turned your way while he browsed through one of the shelves. The black leather jacket emphasized his broad shoulders. He turned to browse the shelf at his back, facing your direction once more, and you marveled at his face. Strong cheekbones and the chiseled jaw of a Greek god stood in stark contrast to full, soft lips and large, round eyes. The latter was the first indication that he was possibly younger than you had initially though. Perhaps in his early twenties?

You were aware that you shouldn't ogle your customers like this. But it was late, you were tired and there was a waking dream walking through your store. Of course you stared. Maybe you had fallen asleep on the counter?

"Excuse me?"

The voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you looked up, somewhat taken by surprise. The handsome book lover was standing right in front of the counter. When had he come so close? The wooden floorboards throughout the store creaked, it was an old building. How had you not heard him move?

Had he caught you staring? You quickly put on your friendliest customer smile and asked, "How can I help?"

He looked at you intently for a few seconds, then returned your smile.

"Do you also sell international literature in their original language?"

His voice was pleasantly dark and raspy. A strong Gotham accent originating most likely from the poorest parts of the city. Customers from Park Row were unusual here. Your store wasn't located in the expensive districts of the city, but most Park Row residents wouldn't waste their money on public transport to shop here.

You knew the stock by heart, but it had been a long time since anyone had asked for non-English literature. It was less popular with most collectors. Another reason why the young man caught your attention. There was rarely an opportunity to sell the less sought-after items. An interesting change from your usual business.

"We have a small selection. Is there a particular language you're looking for?"

The man leaned against the counter and even through the thick leather of his jacket could you see his biceps flex. Be still, heart.

"I would prefer something in German. But French, Italian or Arabic would also be fine."

You tried to hide your surprise. Was he serious? Could he really speak all those languages?

"I can think of a few titles," you said, already going through the stock in your mind, and directed him to follow you with a quick wave of your hand.

The store wasn't big, but each of the shelves was almost bursting at the seams, filled to the top with books. It was no surprise that he hadn't discovered any suitable books during his foray through the store. You steered purposefully towards a shelf at the back of the store and pointed to a place slightly above you, out of your reach.

"Here are the non-English books we currently have in stock. I could get a step stool-"

You had already noticed how tall the man was, but now that he stood right next to you, with him being able to read the spines of the books you could barely reach, you truly realized his height. It should be intimidating, with him almost looming over you. You just thought it was hot as hell.

When you looked up to meet his eyes - blue-green like the sea and just as deep - you also noticed his smug grin.

You stopping in the middle of your sentence seemed to tell him exactly what you were thinking. Embarrassed, you cleared your throat. His grin only grew, showing a hint of teeth.

"Thank you, a step stool shouldn't be necessary," he said, amused, only slowly averting his gaze from your face to scrutinize the old books in front of him.

He stretched out his hand and ran a finger over the spines of the books. Every now and then he pulled one out before pushing it back in disinterest.

"Are you looking for a present?" you asked.

You just had to know. Maybe he wasn't interested in books himself and was just looking to buy a present. You hoped that he wasn't here for a present.

"No, I'm looking for myself."

The answer came after a brief moment of hesitation. He gave you a cold sideways glance, then turned back to the shelf. Any friendliness drained from his voice. Did you say something wrong?

"If you need any help, you know where to find me," you said, giving him a nervous smile and pointing towards the counter.

He met your eyes once more, it felt almost scrutinizing. Without his smile he was intimidating. Nothing hot as hell about a man that looked so annoyed, like he would curb stomp you the second you opened your mouth again. 

"Sure. I'll let you know if I need you."

Crude and tight-lipped. That was definitely the end of your conversation.

For the next thirty minutes, your full attention was almost exclusively on the stranger. Only when another customer had a question were you able to focus on you work. Every time he caught you staring, you averted your gaze in shame.

"I'd like to pay," said a voice to your right.

You flinched and your head jerked to the side. There was Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome, standing right next to you. He had a look on his face that rivaled your annoyance-levels when you were just about to close the store and someone entered anyway. He placed a single book on the counter. You asked yourself once again, how he managed to approach you without you noticing. How did he manage to evade the squeaky floorboards?

With one hand on your chest, you laughed breathlessly. "What are you, a ninja?"

His cold expression gave way to the slightest of smiles. His change of mood gave you whiplash. What was his problem? Were you the problem? Maybe he just suffered from resting bitch face syndrome and his mood-changes only seemed so extreme because he had a wonderful smile?

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

You waved him off and scanned the book. Die Leiden des jungen Werthers. You had tried to figure out his taste in literature, but nothing about his person screamed Sturm und Drang to you.

"I always try to guess what my customers will buy. I was really unsure about you, but I certainly wasn't expecting this!" you said with a genuine laugh. The man was a real surprise. In a positive sense.

Instead of responding to your statement, the corners of his mouth turned downward once more.

"Do you have any older literature? First editions?" he asked. Hard change of topic, but okay.

You nodded in reply. Most of your books were on the younger side, but occasionally you came into the possession of older first editions. Not the kind of books you had to pay a fortune for, but expensive nonetheless.

"I have a few first editions, but I store them elsewhere. The storage conditions in this building are not suited for brittle paper. You can tell me if you're looking for something specific or give me your email address and I can send you a list of what I have. But first editions can be quite expensive, are you sure you're looking for something like that?"

There was no reply for a few moments after you finished your sentence. You looked up at the man, confusion written all over your face. Anger burned in his eyes. Surprised, you took a step back.

"What's your fucking problem? I don't understand you. First you stare at me like I'm trying to steal something. Which, okay, it's Gotham. I don't exactly look friendly. I can understand being cautious. But then you start to undress me with your eyes, only to call me stupid the next moment? Then you stare at me like that. Again! Following up with claiming I'm what? To stupid to understand Goethe? Laughing at me? And now you assume I'm poor. Why? Because of my accent? My appearance?"

He slammed a hundred dollar bill on the counter. "Fuck you and your prejudices."

With those sharp words, he grabbed the book, left the store and rode off on his motorcycle with a roaring roar.

He left behind too much money for a single book and a trembling shop assistant. What the hell just happened? Well. Maybe Sturm und Drang suited the stranger just fine after all.

---

You were convinced that you would never see the literature-loving stranger again. Gotham was big and he would never voluntarily set foot in your store again. Still, you wished you had a chance to apologize.

You really screwed it up. At first, you didn't understand why he suddenly snapped at you, but it had been over a month since his angry escape and you had spent enough time thinking about that day. Your behavior, even if unintentional, had been an absolute disaster. He had misinterpreted your every question, your every action. You had never meant to offend him, but looking back, you could understand why he had taken it the wrong way.

And there he was. In a BatBurger across the street. He was sitting at a table with several people, chatting animatedly. You met him again by pure chance.

You could walk away. Let him enjoy the rest of the day with his friends in peace. He looked so happy, with a slight grin on his lips, leaning back and relaxing as he listened to the rambling tales of another black-haired man.

You should walk away, but your guilty conscience has been gnawing at the back of your mind for over a month. Even if he raised his voice at you, you wanted to at least try to apologize.

Your legs started moving without permission. You crossed the busy street and pushed open the door to the BatBurger before fear could catch up.

With sure steps, you moved towards the table. God, the people were all absolutely gorgeous. Did the handsome stranger only have even better-looking friends? A gathering of models, perhaps.

Halfway to the table, several people of the group lifted their heads to look at you. A mix of friendly but suspicious glances. The latter was the least you expected of residents of Gotham.

When the handsome stranger raised his head, however, his expression darkened abruptly. Understandable, but intimidating. You swallowed your growing fear and came to a halt in front of the group.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" you asked. A quick sideways glance at the other people at the table, "Alone?"

Everyone's eyes wandered back and forth between you and the man. The attention only fueled your nervousness. Instead of getting up and following you or telling you to get lost, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared you down with a cold gaze.

Even though he was sitting and had to look up at you, you felt tiny.

"Anything you want to tell me, you can tell me right here."

You swallowed, anxiety rising in your veins. All eyes were on you, scrutinizing you with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.

"I'm sorry!" you said in a firm voice, a little too loud for the small room. Before you could lose your courage again, you began your rambling explanation.

"I didn't understand why you were so angry at first. Honestly, I still don't quite get it. All I know is that I hurt you and I'm sorry! You have to believe me that wasn't my intention. The whole situation? A huge misunderstanding! Granted, at first I kept an eye on you because you looked like trouble and I've been mugged several times. So yes, that was a prejudice on my part. But after that, I was just trying to make small talk! I was staring at you because you're smoking hot and you like books. I thought I was dreaming. I mean, where else would I find a man like that? You're just totally my type and then I make such an ass of myself. I've been meaning to apologize to you since the incident and then I happen to see you just sitting here and now here we are. And, well-"

You looked around. Your heart was pounding in your throat. Everyone stared at you with wide eyes. A tall, black-haired man stifled a laugh, holding a hand over his mouth. A blonde girl inconspicuously held a phone above the tabletop and filmed you. The unknown stranger sat in his seat with his eyes wide open, mouth agape as if he wanted to say something but didn't know what. The situation couldn't get any more awkward.

Throwing your last sense of shame overboard, you focus your gaze on the stranger. This was your last and only chance. What could possibly happen? He snaps at you?

"I owe you ninety-three dollars and five cents. That's a lot of BatBurger meals. Or a couple cups of coffee. Maybe dinner for two at a good restaurant? You could explain to me in detail all the wrong things I've said to upset you, so I won't say them again."

You felt the blush rise to your face, refusing to look at anyone else at the table except the handsome stranger. He, too, was bright red in the face, his lips moving as if he was trying to form words that just wouldn't come.

A few moments passed. Neither he nor his friends said anything. The entire room was silent. Your sense of shame won the silent battle. 

"Okay, got it. Sorry for the interruption!"

You turned on your heel and left the restaurant with quick steps.

That was by far the most embarrassing thing you had ever done. A rejection wouldn't even be that big of a deal, but the embarrassment of being watched by an entire group of friends while getting rejected? Suppressing your tears, you tried to escape as quickly as possible.

You didn't get very far. Just a few buildings down the street, a loud voice called out behind you: "Hey, just wait a minute!"

You recognized his voice immediately and quickened your steps. Whatever else he had to say to you - it couldn't be good. Just a few seconds later, he passed you with a short sprint and came to a sudden stop in front of you. You had to halt in the middle of the pavement, earning a few rude comments from pedestrians in turn. The stranger snarled at a few of them, before turning to you, a concerned expression on his - sadly still extremely handsome - face. 

"Sorry. You just caught me off guard. Let's try this again, all right? My name is Jason. And you are?"

Confused, you look up at him. You definitely hadn't expected that. Hesitantly, you told him your name.

"Hi," he said, followed by your name. Each syllable carefully accentuated, as if he was trying to taste the letters. Your name sounded so enticing from his lips. The warm smile he gave you afterward made your heart flutter.

"I'm incredibly sorry for screaming at you. Whether I was right or wrong, I should never have raised my voice. I overreacted and took my frustration out on you. Totally out of character for me. I was having a bad day, you hit a few sore spots. I should have come by again to apologize, but I assumed you wouldn't want to see that crazy customer again."

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, embarrassment written all over his face. You marveled at the splotchy flush on his cheeks. He was just as uncomfortable with the whole situation as you were. It was kind of endearing.

"So, getting back to your offer," he mumbled hesitantly, "a dinner to talk about everything would be good. Really good. Fantastic, actually."

Everyone had prejudices, you of all people knew that. Getting to know the handsome stranger would hopefully clear up some of yours. You were confident that your date would turn out just fine.

Voodoo Doll

Imagine: Dean Winchester doesn’t believe that he can truly fall in love with someone. Even after catching up with you, an ex-hunter, he can’t help but deny his growing feelings as some magical sham. He can’t care for someone as he does you, right? Word Count: 5k

I don't even like you, why d'you want to go and make me feel this way?  And I don't understand what's happened, I keep saying things I never say.

"What is she doing here?" Dean asked Sam. He sent his brother a quick glare as you waved in their direction before returning to the bookshelves.

"Y/N offered to help us with this case," Sam told his brother. "Be grateful; she flew in yesterday. Give her a break."

The two silenced themselves as you approached them. You grinned stupidly as you proudly held up a pile of books. "I got those books you asked for Sammy," you declared, brushing a stray lock of hair out of your (Eye Color) eyes.

Why are you still here talking to us? Dean thought. Sammy and I need to get going on this case. You're distracting m- us. You're distracting us.

"His name is Sam," Dean told you sternly. "Ever thought of using it?"

Rolling your eyes, you shot the hunter a grin. "Like you're one to follow rules, Winchester," you joked. Adjusting your coat, you glance out the shop's large windows. The snow was falling at a faster pace than it was before.

"I better head back to the airport," you informed the younger brother. "If I don't leave now, I'll be stuck in town with you morons until the planes are ready to go. Good luck with that 'test' loser."

You struggled to give Sam a hug. He laughed as you tried to wrap your arms around his midsection.

"You aren't even trying," he teased, watching as you groaned in frustration. Your grunts turned into squeals as Sam picked you up.

Rolling his eyes, Dean watched the two of you giggle with glee as you both messed around in the shop. People passing by ‘awwed' at your cuteness as you continued to act like fools.

"Are you guys done?" Asked the older Winchester as he looked away from the scene. Something about it left a foul taste in his mouth.

"Aww, someone mad I'm not giving him any love?" You teased cheekily. Sam let go of you, allowing you to approach Dean. You opened your arms wide and gestured to him. "Want a hug?"

"Pft, no!" Dean stated, crossing his arms. Unfazed by his rejection, you got your arms around Dean. The hunter could feel himself growing warm as you smiled up at him.

"Don't deny it, you love it when I hug you."

No, I absolutely despise it, I- Does your hair always smell this good? Dean thought.

Rolling his eyes, the eldest Winchester brother tried pushing you away. "Don't you have to be someplace?" He asked you.

With wide eyes, you pulled away. "Right! I have to get home!" Sam cleared his throat, catching your attention.

"I think you're a little late for that Y/N," he told you as he watched the heavy snowfall. "Snow's getting bad out there. I'm sure the airport's shut down by now."

The hunter glanced at the almost hidden Impala and grimaced. "Even the car's going to be a hassle today."

Dean scoffed at the thought of his baby being left out in the cold. But even he had to admit getting the vehicle out of the snow would be a pain in the ass.

The car quickly left his mind when he focused on you.

You had started to pout once you realized you couldn't leave town. It made Dean's chest hurt as he watched you try to come up with a backup plan.

"I think we got room for one more in the motel, Sammy. What do you think?" Dean asked his brother.

Your eyes quickly lit up as you looked between the two brothers. "You're serious?" You ask, crossing your fingers hopefully.

As Dean looks to Sam, he pretends to sigh as if he already regretted the suggestion. "If you don't like it, I can always change my-" The hunter struggled to catch you as you launched yourself at him.

"You guys are lifesavers!" You exclaimed as you did the same to Sam. The tallest of the brothers was more prepared as he caught you with ease. Dean tried to not pay attention to this.

Instead, he shrugged as if it was nothing before heading towards the shop's exit.

"Don't thank us yet. You still have to choose who you want to bunk with. We only got two beds."

I can feel you watching even when you're nowhere to be seen. I can feel you touching even when you're far away from me.

"How much longer do we have to stay in this crap town?" Groaned Dean. "It's been like a week and a half dude. I don't like it!"

The brothers had headed out to the local bar. The roads that led out of town were covered with ice. The locals told them it would be a death sentence if they even attempted to leave. Seeing as they already wrapped up the hunt a day prior (Vampire was imitating both a demon and a spirit) the Winchesters hit the town.

You had stayed back at the motel as you weren't feeling too well. Dean was reluctant to leave you by yourself, but you insisted. Now and then, he caught himself looking at the empty chair beside him.

"I'm an ex-hunter," you had told him. "I think I know how to take care of myself Dean-o."

"It's been four days, Dean," Sam chastised. "Besides, the weather forecast says it should be over by Friday. We just got to wait a day." The long-haired man chuckled as he took a swig of beer.

"Besides," he quickly added. "I don't think you'd mind much. You seem to be having fun sharing a bed with Y/N."

"What... What did you just say?" Dean struggled to ask.

Usually, if his brother said something that was in some manner of insulting, the hunter would verbally assault his ass until Sam didn't know what hit him. This time, however, the man was caught off guard.

"You heard me," Sam replied. "You like sharing a bed with Y/N."

"Do not!" Dean shot back.

Even as the words left his mouth, the hunter glanced around the small bar. He didn't want you to hear.

Wait, what the hell am I doing? Dean asked himself. You're not even here and you're still causing me trouble Y/N!

The bartender heard the Winchester's outburst and silently approached the two like a shark in bloody waters. She offered a flirty smile as her ruby red lips parted to reveal pearl-like teeth.

"Can I get you boys anything else?" She asked, looking towards Dean. The sibling smiled at her, nodding.

"Just a beer, please," he asked politely.

"Nothing else, hot stuff?" She asked, quickly batting her eyelashes at the hunter. Raising his finger, Dean fingered through the menu he still had.

It took him an extra second before he quietly set the laminated sheet down. "I'll have the seasoned fries," Dean told the girl. "With extra ketchup." Turning to his brother, he asked if he wanted anything. Sam shook his head slowly as he eyed Dean curiously.

"That'll be it, sweetheart," the hunter told the girl, giving her a small smile.

The bartender scoffed as she wrote everything down. Sending him a glare, she stalked into the kitchen and yelled at the cook to start up the fryer.

"Wow," Sam uttered as he watched his brother casually finish his beer. When Dean didn't respond, he went on. "I can't believe you just dissed that girl!"

"So what, Sammy?" Demanded Dean. "I'm not in the mood for shit like this. And besides, where am I going to take her? Not at the motel!"

"The car," Sam answered. "Her place. Some empty park. The alleyway. The-"

"I get it," his brother snapped. "I just- I'm not interested."

Chills suddenly went up the man's spine as he refused to look at his hand. It tingled painfully as he clenched his fist.

Dean could still feel you, his skin under your hand. It made him crazy not to touch you.

You woke up with a groan. The light of morning shot through the windows as it gently rested across the bed. Feeling a yawn rise, you try to stretch out your arms.

I say try because a certain green-eyed hunter refused to let you.

Glancing down at your waist, you see Dean's arm wrapped around you. Looking over your shoulder, you see said man resting against you peacefully. He looked so relaxed, it would have been a crime to wake him.

That still didn't change the fact that you had to go pee.

"Dean," you whisper. "Dean!" When he didn't budge, you poked his light scruff.

"Dean..." You whined pitifully. "I'm going to piss the bed if you don't get off of me!"

Sam, having just awoken because of your not-so-quiet yelling, had noticed your struggle and woke up his brother for you.

"DEAN!" Sam shouted.

Automatically, the hunter woke up. Using his reflexes, he threw himself over your body and held you close to his chest. His breathing grew erratic as he looked for signs of danger.

Sam couldn't help but laugh as he took in your flushed face. With slow movements, you gently tap Dean's bare bicep.

"Dean, I need you to get up," you tell him gently. He sent you a questioning look, but it quickly dawned on him what position the two of you were in.

Sending you a sheepish smile, Dean released you from his grip. Getting off of the bed, he rubbed the back of his neck.

"So..." He started nervously. "Anyone want burgers for breakfast?"

He touched you. Dean touched you and he loved it. The hunter wasn't exactly sure what to feel about it.

Love seemed like the right term. He didn't hate you. He wasn't disgusted by you. Definitely not.

Ugh, this was high school all over again. Just a big, giant pain in the ass.

"Shut up bitch," Dean sneered.

As much as he wanted to scream and cry, and just have a good old-fashioned fit, he couldn't. It was impossible.

Dean Winchester was inexplicably but deeply in love with you.

Tell me where you're hiding your voodoo doll 'cause I can't control myself. I don't wanna stay; I wanna run away, but I'm trapped under your spell.

"Think she has a hex bag or something?" Dean asked Sam.  

The snow cleared up in town, allowing you and the brothers to leave. You were going to continue with your original plans of going back home, but Dean offered you to stay with them.

You ended up quickly agreeing, but only after when they promised to drive you back home to get more of your stuff.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Sam asked. "You really think Y/N planted a hex bag? Just to make you love her?"

"Would you stop saying that!" Dean barked angrily.

In his burst of anger, he threw the clothes he had into the air. A stray pair of boxers landed on his head as he glared at Sam.

The youngest hunter backed down once he noticed how riled up his brother had gotten. "All right," he quickly stated. "I'll shut up."

Sending him a final scowl, Dean went back to searching his stuff. Clothes were scattered across the room as he went through his stuff.

After a while of finding nothing, Sam piped up once more. "I don't know why you think she planted anything. Y/N's a hunter. She knows better than to-"

He was suddenly cut off by a small object smacking him in the face. Using his reflexes, he caught the item before it fell to the ground.

"What did I tell you?" Dean demanded. With quick movements, he slipped on a fresh shirt before shouldering his way past Sam. Plucking the hex bag out of his hands, the older brother left the room and made his way to the one right next to it.

"Open up Y/N!" The hunter spat as he pounded on the door. It took him several times before it opened. Just as he was about to let all hell loose, Dean noticed what you were wearing.

"What was so important that you couldn't wait until after I finished showering?" You asked him, trying but failing miserably to keep your obvious anger out of your tone. Keeping a tight grip on your towel, you lean against the doorway, ignoring the droplets of water running down your back.

"I um..." Dean trailed off. He glued his eyes to yours as he avoided looking down. "You, uh... Left something in my... You gave me a, um..."

"Oh!" Your eyes lit up as he held up the cloth bag. "You found it! I was going to give it to you in person, but-"

"Wait," Dean cut you off, snapping out of his dazed trance. "You wanted me to know about your little hex bag?"

"Hex bag?" You question. Before he could explain, you laughed. The hunter stood there confused as you held your sides, careful to keep the thin cloth secured around your chest.

"It's... It's not a hex bag!" You told Dean after finishing your laugh. "It's just a poorly wrapped gift." Taking the bag from him, you slowly unwound the leather strap and show him the contents.

A silver bracelet shined under the high-noon sun. It glimmered as you brought it closer to Dean's face as you showed him.

"I got this for you a while back. Sam has one too, but I don't think he found his yet. An old priest had given these to me and I wanted you guys to have them."

"Oh," Dean said sheepishly. "That... That was nice of you." You couldn't help but laugh as you watched the hunter accept the gift.

"Why didn't you check it?" Before he could explain, you shot another question. "Did you really think I planted a curse on you?"

"Well- No! Of course not! It's just- Well, things have been- I don't want to talk about it!" Dean stumbled over his words. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but walked away, back to his room instead.

You watched as he disappeared inside and shut the door. It hurt to see him go, but you shook your head.

He probably had a good reason, right? You ask yourself. Something must've happened and- He's mad. No doubt about it.

With a groan, you shut your own door and return to the bathroom to continue your shower.

It hurts in my head and my heart and my chest, and I'm having trouble catching my breath. Won't you please stop loving me to death?

"How did you dumbasses convince me to come back to this bullshit?" You ask the brothers as you adjust your gear.

Over the years, you learned to wear certain things when going on hunts. The most important thing was to wear thick leather boots with an equally thick jacket. Your weapons rested snugly in their harnesses as you adjusted the knife in your boots.

"It's a mystery to me," said Sam as he chuckled in the passenger's seat. He looked over to his brother. "Got any ideas?"

"No," Dean replied quickly, suddenly focusing on the road. His hands moved soundlessly against the wheel as he pulled into an empty dirt lot.

As he parked the car, you glimpsed silver on his wrist. The sight of it brought a smile to your face.

Sam had shown you his golden one earlier. He loved it. And although Dean hadn't said it, you were sure he did.

"Besides, it's a ghost," Dean told you, adding on to the previous conversation. "It'll be as easy as pie. Nothing special."

With a scoff, you exit the car and head to the trunk. The boys follow you as you pop it open and grab things. "What are you doing?" Sam suddenly questioned you as you slipped rings on your fingers.

"Yeah, we ain't dressing up for anything fancy now," his brother commented. Ignoring their words, you adjust the jewelry.

"Salt filled cartridges are fun and all, so are crowbars. But wouldn't it be nice to physically hit one of these bastards?"

The boys look at each other curiously before staring at your fingers. They both recognize the dark gray metal resting upon your hands. Dean took one of your hands and inspected them. It was hard to hide your red cheeks, but the darkness of the night provided help.

"I will never understand why you would ever stop hunting with ideas like this," he told you quietly.

The blush disappears as you pull your hand out of the hunter's grip. "Is hunting worth losing those close to you?"

You say nothing more after you gather your things. The boys quickly suit up as you make sure everything was ready. They signal you with a quick pump of their shotguns. Sam quickly took the lead as he wandered into the woods.

"So this guy just lured people into his tiny little shack in the middle of nowhere and just killed them?" You asked Dean. You were trying to learn all you could about this last-minute case.

"Yep," the Winchester confirmed. "Sick freak. Rumor has it, he even ate some of his victims."

Shuddering, you glance over your shoulder to look at Sam. He sat in the back of the Impala to catch up on his sleep. Dean quickly asked that you sit next to him in the front.

"Cool, we have a cannibalistic ghost on our hands now. Great," you tell him sarcastically.

"You'll be fine," Dean told you as he pulled into the motel parking lot. Shutting off the car, he looked over to see you were still nervous. With smooth movements, he gently grasped your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Sammy and I,  we're here for you. Don't you forget that."

You kept repeating that in your head as the three of you encountered Franklin in his bedroom.

He had just captured his latest prey from a nearby campsite. You found him hovering over the girl's limp form with a knife in his hand.

Chunks of the poor soul were already gone. Franklin raised his weapon to grab another handful until Sam opened fire. The ghost disappeared, but you all knew it would be back.

You rushed to the girl's side as the brothers started searching the tiny house for something Franklin would be attached to. Your hands fumbled over her throat as you checked for certain marks around her neck.

Bruises in the shape of a chain rested on the skin all around her neck.

"He's got the chain!" You shout to the brothers.

In the report, Franklin used a welded chain to choke out his victims. Police never found said chain, but they suspected it was somewhere near the house. Guess the ghost got it back.

As a hunter, all three of you concluded that Franklin was connected to the linked metal, and that's what was keeping him here.

You could hear noises come from the other rooms, alerting you that the men were trying to draw out Franklin. You knew it wouldn't work.

Just saying considering he was standing right in front of you.

With a roar, Franklin outstretched his arms, his face red as a tomato. Using your reflexes, you ducked under his flailing limbs and aimed for his ribs. The dead farmer howled in pain as the iron contacted his... Well, disembodied spirit.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" He screamed, spinning around to make eye contact with you.

"Y/N?" Both Dean and Sam cried out at the same time. Footsteps rang through the tiny shack as they ran towards the room you were in. Franklin expected this immediately.

Just as the boys were going to come to your rescue, the bedroom door slam shut. A series of items flew in front of it, preventing any entrance. Cries of anguish could be heard from the other side as the Winchester brothers fought to break down the wooden slab.

Franklin turned around with a devilish grin on his face.

"Just you and me now, darling," he croaked out, quickly flashing forward.

"Hang on in there!" Dean shouted at the door. With another heave, he slammed himself against the thick object.

Pain shot through his nerves as he bounced off the slab. A hiss unconsciously left him as he tried again and again.

"We need to find the chain," Sam told his brother, grabbing him by the wrist. His fingers brushed against a warm metal, surprising him greatly. Instead of commenting on it, the youngest Winchester dragged him away.

The two rummaged through the shack, searching for anything that resembled the supposed murder weapon.

"It's not even here, goddammit!" Dean soon screamed, tossing a table across the room. The wood smashed against the wall, just another noise compared to the screeching in the other room. Without another word, he grabbed his .45 and shot at the door.

The bullets embedded themselves in the wood as he fired repeatedly. It wasn't until the soft clicking of the gun told him he ran out of bullets.

"Dean," Sam suddenly caught his attention. "Can you hear that?" Dean sent him a nasty look but listened quietly.

Over the sounds of angry bellowing and broken items, the boys heard you shouting. At first, it made Dean's heart clench until he connected the cries.

"Guys!" A loud crash. "Get the-" There was the sound of glass breaking. It made a horrible noise as it landed on the floor. "Necklace! Find it!"

A loud thump resonated against the door. The brothers knew what Franklin was doing to you. It only made them react faster.

"I think I saw a necklace in the other room!" Sam told his brother.

Not sparing a second, Dean pushed him out of the way and ran down the hallway. The room was a mess from its previous search. A glint of gray caught his eye as he looked over the floor.

"Start a fire, Sam," the hunter demanded as he grabbed the dainty chain. He heard the floorboards being ripped up as he too fumbled for his salt stash. They couldn't stop now. They were so close.

The smell of smoke caught Dean's attention. He looked at the growing bonfire with fury as he fisted the necklace.

"Die you son of a bitch!" He grunted before tossing the jewelry.

You couldn't find the will to scream anymore. It seemed impossible.

Franklin had just finished tossing you around like a rag doll and went in for the kill.

Moonlight flooded the room from the broken window as he hunched over you. His necklace glinted in the light as he leaned in close.

"Guess you're all alone now," he taunted, raising his blade dramatically. Just as he was about to bring it down, it fell out of his grip.

The ghost screamed in pain as he went up in flames. The knife fell beside your head as you looked towards the door.

"Y/N?" One of the boys called out. "You safe?"

Unable to respond, you watch as the door suddenly slammed open, knocking over things that were previously blocking it.

Dean ran in first with Sam right on his heels, his shotgun at the ready for the first sight of danger. He threw it to the side once he saw you were alone and rushed to your side.

"We should have never let you come with us," he told you quietly as he pulled you into his lap. "It wasn't worth it. Almost losing you."

With a cheeky smile, you half-heartedly smacked him in the chest. "I'm glad," you whispered, finding it hard to talk. Screaming took a lot out of you.

"If it wasn't for me, it would've taken you forever to find the necklace. Then you boys would look worse than me." The pain was slowly lulling you to sleep. It was so strong, you closed your eyes.

Dean smiled weakly. He can't help but press a kiss to your forehead. His eyes widened at his action but didn't pull away.

"You missed," you whispered quietly. The hunter barely caught the words, but they were too quiet to fully comprehend.

"What was that?" He asked. But you had already fallen asleep.

"It hurts Sammy," was the first thing you heard.

You tried turning towards the sound of the voice, but it was hard. Your bones felt stiff and your muscles ached with every movement. For now, you settled to listening to the voices.

"What does Dean?" Asked Sammy. The floors creaked as a heavyweight sunk into the bed you rested on.

"Every time I look at her, I can feel this... This indescribable pain in my chest. My head feels heavy and so does my heart. I can't breathe knowing she's like this."

A rough hand took yours and squeezed it gently. The course fingers and smooth palm let you know exactly which Winchester was holding you.

"Dean, it's only been a day. She'll wake up before you know it," Sam tried to console his brother.

"It might have been just a day, but a day is all you need to lose someone," Dean replied softly.

The brothers sigh. By now, you know that the two of them are shaking their heads hoping you won't succumb to their darkest thoughts. You would be okay.

Silence filled the room like a thick fog.

Neither Dean nor Sam made a noise. The only thing that alerted you of their continuous presence was the older Winchester's soothing grip.

Sam found the stillness to be rather deafening. Slowly clearing his throat, the hunter excused himself from his brother, quickly stating that he needed to pick up groceries before leaving. Soon it was just you and Dean.

You found your muscles slowly unclenching as you focused on Dean's touch.

"You don't know how badly I want to call you stupid Y/N," the hunter mumbled. "But I can't. Because I know your reasons were honest, and I appreciate that."

His breaths came out sharply as he tried gasping for air.

"I don't know what you've been doing to me but it's killing me to see you this way. I've..." The Winchester wheezed as the grip on your hand tightened. It quickly released once it grew too painful.

"It's hard to pretend I'm strong and all that when you're here, reminding me I could've done something. Something that would have prevented this. And I didn't."

Dean goes into a rant, complaining that it was his fault he let you join him and his brother and how he was an idiot to let himself get so close to you. It broke your heart to hear him put himself down, but it also brought you small hope.

He cared much more than he let on.

Ending his tirade, Dean sighed as he gave your hand a last squeeze before letting go. "I got to grab some things from Baby. Be right back."

Warm breath gently fanned your face, throwing you off for a second. Then it hit you.

Dean's lips pressed themselves against your forehead. They lingered a second longer than he liked, but you didn't mind. Pulling away, you repeated the words you told him a night ago.

"You missed," you mumbled cheekily, opening your eyes to little slits. You watch as Dean looked at you with a frozen expression, unsure what to do now.

"Y-you're... You're awake!" He stuttered. "You didn't- You were sleeping the entire time, right?"

"You missed Winchester," you repeat, ignoring his question. "How many times are you going to miss?"

"W-what?" Dean asked, still taken aback of your sudden awakening.

Rolling your eyes, you struggle to sit up. Seeing this, the hunter made a move to help you, but you pause. With a small grunt, you prop yourself against the headboard before looking up at Dean.

"These," you gesture, tapping your mouth, "are my lips. Do I need to put a sign so you don't miss them?"

Dean still looks confused, making you roll your eyes and grabbing the collar of his coat. Pulling him down, you slam your mouth against his.

At first, the hunter's unsure at the sudden contact. Seeing that he hadn't yet responded, you go to pull away until he had gently cupped your face and returned the favor.

The strong taste of whiskey filled your mouth as Dean softly kissed you back. Things grew heated as you tugged at him to pull off his jacket. He slowly pulled back with a chuckle.

"Calm down, you feisty thing," Dean teased. "You're still healing. Can't risk you hurting yourself again."

He presses another kiss to your forehead as he smirked cheekily. "You'll be the death of me, Winchester," you told him, leaning back into the motel bedsheets.

"I could say the same about you, babe," he replied.

They couldn’t see Pedro, but he was there. - part 2 part 1 __________________ Thanks for all the likes, reblogs and comments. :)

Blame this guy named tony for this ok😭

baby i’ve got half finished wips you couldn’t even imagine

The Fun Process of Imprinting

IMAGINE: You are the adopted child of the Cullens and you learn the hard way you are Paul Lahote’s imprint.  WORD COUNT: 4.1k

“You coming Y/N?” One of your brothers yells at you.

Rolling your eyes, you say goodbye to your friends and turn around. Your third oldest brother smiled as you made your way over to him and the rest of your siblings.

“You guys are really impatient, you know that right?” You tease Emmett, softly slugging his arm. His wife, rather, one of your sisters, grabbed you by the hand and led you into the car.

“Carlisle wants to see us right away. Esme called us and said it was an emergency.” 

Your eyebrows immediately scrunch together as you pile into the family’s car. Alice starts up the vehicle as the rest of you try not to worry about what your father wanted to talk to you guys about.

“It’s probably nothing,” Jasper tried to soothe you. 

Your emotions were coming off strong as you tried suppressing your fear. He leaned across Emmett (Both your sisters sat in the front as Rosalie called shotgun!) and took your hand in his.

Despite him having problems with blood and humans, your brother taught himself to familiarize your scent ever since you were a child. It didn’t affect him as bad as Bella did or the others did.

Seeing that you were still stressing out, Jasper manipulated your emotions until you felt calmer. Sending him a smile, you nod your head in thanks.

“Let’s see how much trouble we’re in now,” Emmett muttered as Alice pulled into the driveway of the house.

“I have to what?!” You ask your father incredulously. Carlisle sighed as he repeated the news.

“Bella,” he began, gesturing to Edward’s girlfriend, “has talked to Billy Black about our… Situation. The pack has taken it into their own hands and has asked to talk to you.”

The first time you heard it, you flat out refused. The wolves already brought trouble to your family. Jacob Black, an old friend of Bella’s had gotten pissed once he found out she was dating your brother. He was ready to tear your family apart.

“No!″ You stated firmly. “If they’re worried that you guys turned me into a vampire, can’t Bella just tell them that I’m still human?”

Carlisle shook his head. Running a hand through his blonde locks, he stared you down with his golden eyes.

“Y/N, we don’t have much of a choice. Sam Uley has demanded your presence. It’s for the best that we respect their wishes.”

After a small stare off, with you glaring at Carlisle as he pouted silently, you finally gave in to your father’s puppy-like gaze and huffed. 

Turning to Bella, you begrudgingly asked, “When did they want to do it?” You watch as she and Edward share a wary glance before spitting out an answer.

“Now.”

Bella’s truck purred underneath you as she drove to the reservation. The two of you were quiet as she drove down the road. To say you were mad was an understatement.

You were livid!

What were those mutts thinking when they demanded that you were brought before them? They acted as if the Cullens had no say in the matter, and it pissed you off.

To keep your mind off of what was to come, you gaze out the car window and watch the scenery roll past. The blurred trees reminded you of your childhood, and you gleefully lost yourself to your memories.

Your ten-year-old self stumbled through the forest as you climbed over a fallen tree. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a familiar blonde peeking out from behind a tree.

Several hundred yards away, you hear Esme call out to you. “Run little deer!” She laughed. “Don’t let Rosalie catch you!” A giggle escapes your lips as you run even faster.

Out of nowhere, dainty hands wrap around your waist as you’re suddenly lifted into the air. You can’t help but shriek with glee as you make eye contact with Alice.

“Got you, you little monkey,” she teased as she tossed you into the air. The other Cullens suddenly crowded the two of you. They all greeted you with smiles as they complimented you.

Surrounded by people who cared about you, feeling genuine love and care. You were glad that you found the Olympic Coven. You were one with the Cullens, despite your mortality. Life could never be better.

Bella gently tapped you on the shoulder, breaking you out of your trance. “We’re here,” she explained, pointing to a wooden house. 

It looked cozy and if you weren’t living with the Cullens, you’d be interested in getting a house like this. But knowing that it was home to shape-shifters made your skin crawl in a way that it shouldn’t.

With a groan, you exit the car and walk to the front. As Bella sided up to you, she sent you a reassuring smile before leading you to the door.

As if sensing her presence, the infamous Jacob Black stepped through the open sliding door. “You’re here!” He said incredulously, not believing his eyes. His gaze between you and Bella constantly changed, switching between total adoration and deep skepticalness.

“Look,” you suddenly state, surprising both teenagers. “Neither of us wants me to be here so lets cut to the chase. Take me to your pack leader or whatever and say what needs to be said. I can feel my family pacing back at the house and it’s driving me up the wall.”

Jacob raises an eyebrow but gestures for you to follow him. He leads both you and Bella into the kitchen where you see a woman busying herself with food. Your friend quickly recognized her and wasted no time in giving her a hug.

“Emily!” Bella greeted her happily.

“Bella!” Emily replied in the same tone. As the two parted, you finally got a good look at the girl who embraced the loner of Forks. 

The scar lines did not faze you, but it raised your ever-growing fear of shifters. You knew how dangerous they were, and this sight did not help.

“You must be the Cullen’s special child,” she noted, offering a hand. You take it politely, not wanting to seem rude. 

Growing under Carlisle’s hand had its effects on your mannerisms.

“That I am,” you confirm, giving her a firm shake. After the two of you properly introduce yourselves, you ask the girl about the pack’s whereabouts.

“Oh, they’ll be here in a bit,” she assured you. “The boys always go out for a run this time of day and they’re starving. Just give it a minute.”

It doesn’t take long for the boys to pile in but by then, you, Bella and Emily have gotten into a pleasant conversation. It quickly ends when you hear an obnoxious voice complaining about a repulsive smell.

“Great, another leech lover roaming around here. Since we’re getting so cozy, why don’t we just invite the damned things over and be done with all this bullshit?”

Turning around, you see a handful of dark-haired males make their way to the door. Emily smiles as she made her way to greet them. One man detached from the group as he pulled Emily into a loving grasp.

The other males walked in and made their way to the kitchen, immediately ransacking it of any food they could find. You look to Bella in disbelief, to which she only shrugged. Shaking your head, you quickly stand up and clear your throat. All eyes quickly find their way to you.

“Look, I know you guys aren’t in a big rush but I’ve got school tomorrow and my dad is going to kill me if I miss a class. So can we just cut to the chase and get this over with?”

The man who previously had busied himself with Emily, nodded as he carefully pushed past his girlfriend. “Sorry for calling you on such brief notice,” he told you. “I’m Sam Uley, this is my pack.”

You glance at each of the wolves. Most of them seem as disinterested with you except for one. His dark brown eyes burn into yours as your stare meets his.

He freezes for a moment, but you quickly brush it off and return your attention to Sam. This mutt has probably never seen a girl that wasn’t born on the reservation.

“What has my family done to piss you guys off now?” You ask calmly.

“Nothing,” Sam promised you. “It’s just, our ancestors and the Cullen’s have made a treaty with them. They can’t-”

“I know all about the treaty,” you interrupt. “My family can’t harm humans or cross into Quileute land. I may not be a shape-shifter like you guys, but I’m not a dumbass. Even if you think I’m just a leech lover.”

You watch the pack leader send a quick glare to the mutt who couldn’t keep his gaze off of you. It quickly softens, making you curious at the sudden expression change.  

Looking back, you see that his eyes haven’t left your figure. The only difference this time, you see his lips pulled back in disgust. 

“Got a problem, pretty boy?” You snarl at him.

The wolf looks taken aback by your snarkiness, but quickly replied with his own comeback. “I just don’t see why the hell you’re even here on our territory. I guess you’re human, which means we can’t kill you, but if it was one of those bloodsuckers…”

Everyone was quiet as you marched up to the man and pressed your finger to his chest. You heard the girls gasp (And even a few of the guys) but you paid no attention to that.

“Listen here, you little shit,” you told him sharply. “I don’t give a damn on what your views are on vampires but let me set one thing straight. You will never disrespect my family ever again! Do I make myself clear?”

He quickly smacked your hand away as he leaned in closer.

“Paul…” Sam warned with a growl. “Don’t do anything you might regret.”

“It’s not my fault she comes from a family of monsters,” Paul shot back, not breaking eye contact.

“The Cullens aren’t the monsters here,” you spit at the wolf. “I’m standing in the presence of a certain snot-nosed dog who has never heard of a nose hair trimmer.”

You watched as the shirtless male snarled; his nostrils flaring as he struggled to control his breathing. A pang of fear flashed through you as you watched him slowly lose his temper. One wolf noticed and quickly grabbed your hand, attempting to pull you back.

Paul had not taken this lightly.

“Quil, remove your hand before I do it for you!” He barked, baring his teeth like a pissed off animal. The wolf quickly lets go of you, sending you into a spiral of confusion.

“Sam?” Bella asked out of nowhere. “What did Y/N do to Paul?”

The pack all shared a look before most of them dog-piled the angry shifter. Sam ordered Jacob to take you and Bella home. As Black hesitated, Paul shook more and more as his anger took over him.

“NOW JACOB!” The leader screamed before joining the pile.

Wasting no time, Jacob grabbed you and Bella by the hands and dragged you out of the home. All three of you scrambled into the vehicle as Jake stole the keys from his friend and started up the car. As it roared to life, you peeled out of the driveway and hit the road.

“Call them,” Jacob commanded Bella. “Gather the Cullens and get them as close to the reservation as they can. Y/N needs all the protection they can get.”

“From Paul?” You ask. “What the hell is even going on?”

Bella looks to her friend in realization as it hits her. “He couldn’t have… It’s not possible!”

“Anything is possible,” Jacob replied. You watched as the numbers cranked higher and higher on the speedometer.

“Would you mind telling me what’s possible and what it has to do with me?”

It was as if you were invisible. Both Jacob and Bella knew what was going on with Paul, but they left you in the dark. This is why you preferred vampires. They always said what was on their minds. Most of the time at least.

A loud howl breaks you out of your thoughts, making Jacob stiffen. "What is it?" You ask him worriedly. 

"Paul's pissed," the wolf muttered. Without another explanation, he forced the Chevy pickup to run even faster, causing it to emit several groans under the stress. 

"Carlisle is sending Edward," Bella reported. 

Her friend slammed his palms against the steering wheel. "He needs to bring all of them! Call him again!" 

"I can't!" She replied. "He's already on the way!" 

"Would y'all just calm the hell down and tell me what's going on?" You scream at them, tired of being ignored. 

And just as it seemed like one of them was finally going to answer your questions, something heavy slammed itself against the back of the truck. 

The car went flying as it skidded across the road. You and Bella held onto the dashboard as Jacob struggled to keep the truck from flipping. The car came to a sudden stop when the same weight latched on and forced it to slow down. 

Bella looked over her shoulder and paled at the sight. "What is it?" You ask her, not wanting to see whatever was keeping you back. You knew exactly what it was, but you preferred not dying if Paul was still angry. 

"Stay in the truck," Jacob ordered as he quickly left. He left your line of sight as he headed towards the back. Bella quickly ignored this as she noticed her boyfriend approaching the scene. 

"Edward!" She cried, throwing off her seatbelt and running into his arms. Giving her a kiss, he spared a glance towards Jacob and Paul before looking at you. 

'I'm fine,' you told him mentally. 'Just get me out of here before Paul rips out my throat!' 

Just before you can even think about getting out, you hear a series of growls and snarls before the sound of crying catches your attention. You quickly whip around and see two giant wolves fighting each other. 

The shifter who had cried out had been the chocolate brown wolf with the limp. The back legs were matted with fresh blood and his coat covered in dirt. A gasp escaped your lips as you watched him struggle to fight back. 

The other wolf was different. 

Its fur was silver and gray, and it shined in the darkness. The mouth seemed to be covered in red as it snapped at the other animal. Despite being smaller, it fought with more ferocity than you thought it had. 

As you scrambled out of the car, Bella cried out as she watched the fight. "Jacob!"  At the name, the chocolate wolf turned its head in your direction. The silver shifter took this chance and tackled him. 

Fear hit you as you realized that this was Paul. 

Edward focused on him as Bella rushed to you. "Stop him!" She told you. "He'll kill Jake!" 

"What do you expect me to do?" You asked her. "It's not like he'll listen to me! Didn't you hear him call me a leech lover?" 

"Just do it," Edward said. "Paul imprinted on you Y/N. He can't resist you." 

Before you could ask what he meant by imprinted, your brother pushed you towards the wolves. Automatically, Paul focused his attention on the vampire behind you. He bared his sharp teeth angrily as he snarled. 

With another shove from Edward, you gulped silently before approaching the wolf. He paid no mind to you as he stared your sibling down. 

"Say something to him," Bella offered after you struggled to distract him. 

"Paul?" You shakily called out.

The wolf let out a growl as he spared a glance at you, but otherwise did nothing. 

"I know we just met and all," you try again, taking a hesitant step towards him. "But I think I know when to say you need to take a chill-pill or something." 

Still nothing. 

"You need to encourage him," Edward instructed. 

As you turned around to look at him, you heard Paul snarl angrily. Snapping your head back in his direction, you try something different. 

"Paul, I need you to calm down," you tell him. Two more steps. "I can't have you hurt any more people. I don't know what you're going through, but I'm not worth it." 

This had caught Paul's attention. He tore his attention away from Edward and Jacob as he settled his gaze on you.

Another pang of fear hit you as Paul slowly approached you. His sly movements reminded of how a hunter goes after its prey. The fear worsened as you realized you were the prey.

As if reading your thoughts (Which he probably was) Edward spoke up. “He won’t hurt you. He’d rather die than do anything of the sort.”

Proving the point, Paul gently prodded his large snout against your hand once he was close enough. You flinched at the blood that soaked into his fur, but otherwise froze at his presence.

He tried poking you again before he let out a whimper.

“He thinks you’re rejecting him,” Edward explained. “You need to show him you aren’t.”

With a shaky breath, you slowly place your hand on top of Paul’s head. His giant ears twitched, making you freeze. It wasn’t until he whimpered again that you moved. Your fingers run through his fur eagerly. A low moan left his muzzle as he leaned into your touch. Once you were sure that he had calmed down, you faced Bella and Edward.

“Get Jacob out of here,” you tell them. “Paul’s stable now, but I can’t say the same later. Go now. Take the car.”

Bella goes to argue, but your brother took her by the arm and shook his head. They make their way towards the wolf. As you watch the girl try to coax her friend to come with them, Paul catches your attention once more.

He ran his giant tongue across your open palm, which you quickly recoiled from. Only after hearing his sad whine did you apologize.

“I’m sorry. I just really don’t want you to bite off my hand or anything. I know you don’t like my family, so...”

Paul growled angrily, making you jump back like a frightened cat. The shifter realized his mistake and whimpered. Tired of not being able to talk to you properly, he slowly backed away before he changed.

You winced at the sound of bones snapping and arranging themselves in a different order. The thick fur seemed to melt away as the silver wolf disappeared into Paul.

You had gone to say something before you realized that he was very nude. 

Especially down there.

“Y-you’re um... You’re not really... Covered,” you mumble, keeping your eyes glued to his face. You can feel your face burning up as he glances down to see that nothing was covering his area.

“Sorry,” he told you sincerely. “But I don’t really have anything to cover it up.”

Without a second thought, you shrug off your plaid and hold it out to him. Paul sends you a grateful smile as he takes the shirt. Quickly tying it around his waist, the shifter then scratched the back of his head nervously.

“I didn’t mean to scare you back there,” he told you honestly.  “It’s just- I’ve got problems with anger and- You’re my soulmate and it doesn’t help that your family are vampires and- There’s so much on my mind right now.”

You barely make eye contact with him for a second before you quickly look away.

It’s not that you feared him. I mean, you were terrified, but the things that were coming out of his mouth were terrifying. You were soulmates... With an angry shifter who hated vampires.

Things didn’t look so bright for you.

“We should probably go check up on Jacob and the others,” you tell him quietly. “Bella called my dad and my family is probably worried by now.”

As you walk back towards the reservation, Paul grabbed your hand. You jumped at his touch but calmed down when he gave you a reassuring squeeze.

“Why won’t you look at me Y/N?” He asked quietly. “I know I’m not exactly what you’re used to, but I’m honestly trying here.”

“I... I know you are. But it’s just a little hard. This is just so sudden.”

Just as you go to say something else, you stumble over a sudden dip in the road. If it hadn’t been for the shifter’s quick movement, you were sure you would’ve fallen on your face.

Paul had grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into his grasp. Once you had been close enough, he then scooped you up into his arms, far off the ground. On instinct, you wrapped your arms around his neck and clung to him like a baby koala.

“You all right?” He asked you quietly.

“I-I’m fine,” you stutter. “J-just having a b-bad day, apparently.”

Paul made sure you were all right before he continued to make his way back to Emily’s house. You were content just staying there in his hold, but something felt off.

You did just meet this guy an hour ago.

“Are you going to set me down?” You ask Paul quietly. The shifter glanced at the road before he shook his head with a smug grin. He only held you closer as he carried you back towards the reservation.

“Set him down there,” Sam commanded Edward. With a nod, the vampire helped a newly shifted Jacob onto the couch.

“It was my fault,” Jacob groaned suddenly. “I was stupid enough to separate Y/N from Paul. That’s the worse thing you could ever do.”

Edward took a step back as the other shifters surrounded their brother. They all joked about how stupid he was, but anyone knew that they were just happy he was okay.

“I can’t contact Paul,” Sam confided within Edward, away from all the fiasco. “I know he’s somewhere out there but-”

“He’s right outside,” Edward interrupted, looking towards the staircase.

Sam took a single whiff of the air before he bolted down the steps. Edward gave Bella a swift kiss on the forehead before joining the shifter downstairs.

What he saw made him want to screw the treaty and rip off a shifter’s head.

Paul stood in the kitchen practically naked. The only thing that covered him had been a (Favorite Color) plaid around his waist and Y/N clinging to his chest. One of his arms supported their legs while the other held their body closer to him.

Edward took a step forward to check on his sibling, but the shifter had other ideas.

Paul let out a low growl, a ferocious sound as he glared daggers at the vampire. His grip on Y/N only tightened as he bared his teeth, ready for an attack.

“Paul,” Sam warned. “It’s okay, just let him check them.”

Paul let out another growl before slowly nodding his head. Edward didn’t waste another moment as he placed his hands on Y/N’s face. The shifter couldn’t hold back a cocky grin as the figure in his arms almost recoiled at the coldness in the touch.

Paul... Want to stay.

Edward grimaced at the fact that Y/N willingly wanted to stay with these mutts, but he was in no position to deny them. Especially since he could never deny his baby sibling of anything.

“They’ll be safe here?” Edward asked no one in particular, removing his hands from the girl’s face.

“I’d protect them with my life!” Paul snarled protectively.

I know you would, the vampire thought. Refraining from rolling his eyes, Edward spared Y/N a last peek before making his way back up the stairs to retrieve Bella.

Paul didn’t spare him another glance as he stared at you.

This was going to be a complicated relationship, but neither of you would dare to pass it up.

Reading amazing fanfiction, then forgetting to bookmark it

Misdial; Redial - Billy Russo

Prompt: Wrong Number AU: Reader is going through hard times and her friend gives her number to a guy who usually helps veterans but won’t say no to a civilian. But instead of talking with a polite man named Curtis she ends up texting with a guy named Billy who’s incredibly witty, funny and maybe gets attached to her but doesn’t want to show his face. Prompter: Anonymous

So this is my 17k word oneshot because I got really inspired by this request. It took on a life of its own. 

Warnings: Discussion of past sexual abuse. Smut. Immediate angst after smut? I don’t know if that deserves a warning or not. Just be kind to yourselves darlings.

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*gif is mine*

Enjoy!

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Turtles helping each other in times of need 

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