#but back in bat's lifetime? nope

[brunchable]

POV: You're sucked into your Fanfic - Part Three

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Writer!fReader Themes/Warning: Comedy - Chaotic Duo (mainly y/n), breaking 4th wall. Fanfic Bucky meets his writer. Swearing. Summary: So you got kicked out of your own fanfic and know you have to go to work and face real life problems. . . or so you thought. A/N: Listen, don't expect this fanfic to be well organized because it's not supposed to be. I don't know where I am going with this yet, do enjoy this chaotic fanfic with me for now lmfao.

tags: @winterslove1917 @zeeader @iamdedsthingz @hzdhrtss @almosttoopizza

@yiiiikesmish @literaryavenger @aquabrie @ramp-it-up @nash-dara

@winchestert101

You leap out of your car like a bat out of hell, convinced that you’re finally back to normal life. No more fanfic shenanigans, no more redemption arcs gone wrong. Just a regular, boring job where I definitely won’t have to deal with anything weird.

As you stumble into the elevator, trying to untangle yourself from your coat and shove a half-eaten granola bar into your mouth, you breathe a sigh of relief. Finally. Back to real life.

You slap the “Close Door” button repeatedly, desperate to get moving. The elevator hums, the doors sliding halfway shut. But just as they’re about to close completely, they flicker—a sudden, sharp flicker of the lights overhead—and the entire elevator rumbles like it’s having a midlife crisis.

Your eyes widen as the lights dim and flicker again, the walls creaking. 

“Uh... what the hell?” 

You press the button frantically, but the flickering intensifies for a brief moment, making the whole thing feel more like the start of a horror movie than an office elevator ride.

Weird. Really weird. But then, just as quickly as it started, the flickering stops, the lights stabilize, and the doors begin to glide open again.

The doors glide back open, and in walks CEO Bucky Barnes, striding into the elevator like he owns not only the building but the entire damn planet. And the universe beyond that. He’s dressed in a sleek, tailored suit, the kind that screams: I make more money in an hour than you’ll see in a lifetime.

Your granola bar nearly falls out of your mouth as you press yourself against the elevator wall like a frightened mouse, eyes wide. 

“Oh, come on.”

Bucky glances at you, arching an eyebrow as he steps inside, completely unbothered. He casually hits the close button, taking a bite out of the apple he’s holding, and then gives you a look, as if your entire existence is mildly amusing.

Oh, no. When I said I want to go back I meant in my other fanfic, NOT THIS. You swallow hard, gripping the railing in the elevator. Is this another one of those fanfics I wrote and abandoned?

You glance at him again, suddenly realizing the flickering, the rumbling, the tailored suit, and the attitude. This is definitely not the action Bucky from before. Nope, this is CEO Bucky, and apparently, he has zero patience for your existence.

Great.

You groan internally, wishing you could rewind the last five minutes of your life.

He’s holding an apple—eating it, actually—like some kind of smug Greek god. The crunch echoes in the small space of the elevator, and with every bite, you can practically hear your sanity cracking.

You backup more—if it’s even possible—against the corner of the elevator, eyes wide, heart pounding. 

“Oh my God. Oh no, no, no—” you mutter to yourself, eyes darting around like you might find an emergency escape hatch. 

Bucky side-eyes you, not missing a beat as he takes another crunch of his apple. He raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your sudden and very visible panic attack.

“You’re late,” he says casually, as if pointing out the weather. The way he speaks, smooth and lazy, is enough to send a shiver down your spine. He doesn’t even look fully at you—just a quick glance that screams you are insignificant in my kingdom.

Your eyes dart around the elevator, fully cornered now. 

“Wh— I—Late? What—no, I’m not late!” You tug at your coat, flustered, hands shaking as you clutch your bag like it’s a lifeline. “I mean—yes, I’m late, but also... what are you doing here?”

CEO Bucky pauses mid-bite, looking at you as if you’ve just sprouted two heads. He finally turns fully toward you, taking another slow, calculated bite of his apple. 

“What am I doing here? I own this building.”

He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like you should already be bowing down to him or, at the very least, shining his shoes. His eyebrow arches higher, and his lips quirk up at the corner into the slightest smirk. A smirk that makes you want to scream and faint simultaneously.

You sputter, pressing yourself further into the elevator corner like you’re trying to melt into the walls. 

“Right. Of course. You’re the CEO. That’s... that’s normal. Completely normal. You just... randomly show up in elevators eating apples and ruining people’s lives.”

“You always this chaotic first thing in the morning?” He shakes his head slowly, clearly unimpressed with your rambling.

“What—excuse me? Chaotic?” You blink, momentarily thrown off.

He takes one last bite of his apple before tossing it in the trash bin in the corner with a smooth flick of his wrist. 

“Yeah,” he says, turning to face the elevator doors as they slide shut. “Usually you’re nice and quiet”

You gape at him, jaw practically on the floor. “Nice and quiet?!”

The elevator starts to move again, and you just stare at the back of his head, blinking rapidly. This can’t be real. This CAN’T be real. You glance up at the ceiling, half expecting the universe to laugh in your face.

“Right, okay,” you mutter to yourself. “Cool. I’m in a scrapped fanfic where CEO Bucky Barnes exists and I’m... late for something. That’s fine. Totally fine.”

The elevator dings as it reaches another floor, and you brace yourself for whatever happens next.

Bucky side-eyes you again, folding his arms, his suit jacket stretching over his broad shoulders in a way that is entirely too distracting. 

“Try not to make this a habit,” he says coolly, his voice dripping with condescension.

You blink. “What—what habit?”

He shrugs casually. “Being late. And whatever this is,” he gestures to you, still cornered and clearly flustered, “your whole... thing.”

“My whole thing?” You’re so flustered you don’t even know what to say. “This isn’t even a thing! I don’t have a thing! This is just... my life, okay?”

Bucky smirks, his gaze sliding over you like he’s assessing whether or not you’ll survive the next five minutes. 

“Yeah,” he mutters, stepping out as the elevator doors open again. “Totally, your thing.”

And just like that, he’s gone. You’re left standing there, dumbfounded, staring at the empty space where he was just seconds ago.

The elevator doors close again, and you let out a long, exasperated sigh. “I hate this fanfic already.”

× × × ×

You sit at your desk, your fingers tapping anxiously on the keyboard, but your brain is doing everything but work. It’s going a million miles a minute, trying to piece together what exactly happened to land you in this ridiculous situation.

You glance down at the stack of papers on your desk, all labeled with the company’s sleek logo, and let out a long, tortured groan. 

Then it hits you like a freight train: You’re Bucky Barnes’ assistant. This is what you wrote months ago before you rage-quit the whole story.

Your head drops into your hands. Fuuuuck.

“What was this about again?!” you mutter under your breath, trying to dig through the mental files of your abandoned fanfic plot. 

You remember vaguely setting this story up to be some kind of CEO!AU where Bucky was... what? Brooding and powerful? Sexy, for sure. In control of everything? Definitely. You were supposed to be some mild-mannered assistant who totally had her life together.

But that was so not you either. You had given up on this story for a reason—writer problems. Why did I even scrap this plot again? Oh right. Because it got so cringey you couldn't even finish it.

You try to think back to why this fanfic had hit the writer’s block wall. It was something to do with the plot going absolutely nowhere. You had no idea where to take it, so naturally, you abandoned it like a badly cooked lasagna and moved on to the next story with more action and less... corporate nonsense. 

And now, here I am, stuck in the very fanfic I gave up on because I couldn’t figure out what would happen next. Fantastic.

You sigh dramatically, rubbing your temples. Great. I’m in an unfinished fanfic where I don’t even know the plot. Awesome. Totally normal day.

Just as you’re contemplating throwing yourself out the window—or at least hiding in the bathroom for the next eight hours—you decide to take a break. Maybe you can sneak out for five minutes and regroup. Get your chaotic brain together before CEO Bucky calls you for something ridiculous like filing his taxes or fetching his tenth coffee of the day.

You push away from your desk and stand up, trying to be stealthy. But just as you make your way toward the door—

“Hey, you.”

You freeze mid-step. Oh for fuck sake.

Slowly, like a guilty child caught sneaking out of class, you turn around. There’s CEO Bucky, leaning against his office doorframe, arms crossed like some kind of modern-day Greek god. His suit is perfectly tailored, every inch of him screams I own this place, and of course, he’s got that little smirk that makes your brain short-circuit.

He gestures with two fingers, that damn lazy motion that makes you feel like you’ve been summoned by royalty. 

“Come here.”

Your eye twitches. 

“I have a name, you know,” you say before you can stop yourself, crossing your arms defensively. It’s completely out of character for the version of yourself that you wrote into this fanfic, but your chaotic brain can’t help it.

Bucky pauses, clearly not expecting you to talk back. His eyebrows lift slightly, and then that smirk grows even wider, like you’ve just amused him. 

“Do you now?”

You groan internally. Oh crap. 

But now you’re stuck, because CEO Bucky Barnes, in all his smug glory, is eyeing you like a predator who’s just found something interesting to toy with.

“Yeah, last I checked,” you say, now fully committed to the chaos as you shuffle closer, arms still crossed like you’re trying to shield yourself from the intense vibes he’s putting off. “It’s not ‘hey you,’ it’s Y/N.”

He chuckles softly, leaning back slightly and watching you approach. “Y/N, huh? Interesting.”

You squint at him, already regretting your entire life. “Why is that interesting?”

He shrugs, still smirking. “I don’t know. I like ‘hey you.’ It fits you.”

You resist the urge to scream into the void. “Well, I’m taking a break, so if you’ll excuse me—”

“Break?” He interrupts, his smirk not fading. “You’ve been here what... five minutes?”

You open your mouth to argue, but the way he’s looking at you—like he knows exactly how to push your buttons—makes your brain scramble. 

“I need to regroup. You know... organize my thoughts. Get my head in the game.”

His smirk widens as he watches you try to squirm out of the conversation. “Right. Organize your thoughts. Good luck with that.”

You blink at him, genuinely baffled by how this man manages to look so smug while saying so little. 

“This is why I scrapped this fanfic,” you mutter, too quiet for him to hear. “Why did I write him like this? All smirky and... and haughty and... ugh.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, clearly noticing your muttering, but chooses not to comment.

“You’re really something,” you grumble under your breath as you turn and make a beeline for the door, desperate for some air.

You can feel his eyes on you as you walk away, and just before you leave the room, you hear him chuckle again. 

“I’m sure you’ll do great. Don’t get lost on your... regrouping.”

You grit your teeth, giving him a tight smile as you exit the office. “Sure. I’ll be regrouping. Totally.”

The moment you’re out of his sight, you let out a groan, practically melting against the hallway wall. How do I survive this fanfic?

And then, like a jolt of lightning, you remember why you gave up on this fanfic. Because Bucky Barnes as a smug, controlling CEO is TOO MUCH!

You smack your forehead, slumping down the wall. “I am so screwed.”

× × × ×

You return to your desk, a glass of water in hand, mentally cursing your decision to ever write CEO Bucky Barnes the way you did. Smug, intense, and probably the reason for my inevitable breakdown. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down as you plop into your chair. 

I can do this. I survived getting my ass beat up by action Bucky. I just have to survive the day. No more weirdness.

But, of course, life—or rather, your fanfic—has other plans.

As you sit down and try to focus, you hear the sound of high heels clicking against the floor, getting closer. You glance up, and there she is: Bucky’s soon-to-be ex-girlfriend. The character you completely forgot about when you abandoned this fanfic. She turns on her heel, clearly satisfied with her silent insult, but something inside you snaps. 

Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out in a deep, gangster voice, “Da fuCK you lookin’ at, Discount Cruella?”

She freezes mid-step, as if you’ve just slapped her with a fish. Her head turns slowly, like she can’t quite believe you just called her that. You add a taunting little eyebrow raise, tipping your chin up like you’re daring her to respond.

What the hell just came out of my mouth? You blink, stunned by your own voice, but you don’t back down. Commit, commit!

She glares, her jaw tightening. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, you heard me,” you say, leaning back in your chair, sipping your water. “You struttin’ around like some budget Bond villain? What, you think I’m intimidated by your off-brand designer knock-offs? Please. I’ve seen scarier outfits at Walmart.”

Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she turns with a dramatic huff and stalks off, her heels clicking furiously against the floor.

You lean back even further, casually waving after her. “Yeah, you better walk away, Dollar shop Donatella!” 

She disappears down the hallway, leaving you feeling victorious, if not a little surprised at your own audacity.

You take another sip of water and mutter to yourself, “I swear, this fanfic is making me brave... or stupid. Probably stupid.”

As you’re mentally patting yourself on the back for that little victory, you hear footsteps approaching again. You look up, expecting it to be her again, but nope—it’s Bucky. 

“Hey, you,” he says, that smooth, infuriating voice drawing your attention.

You roll your eyes but try to act casual. “Yeah, what now, boss?”

Before he can answer, you take a sip of water—probably the worst-timed sip of your life.

Bucky’s just about to say something, but the sight of him leaning casually against your desk, all brooding and smug and tall and sexy, makes you choke on your water. You try to hold it in, but before you can stop it—

PFFFFTTTTT!!!

You spit your water all over him. Like, right in his face.

Time freezes. Bucky blinks, water dripping from his face and his perfectly styled hair. He looks stunned, as if this is the first time in his entire smug CEO existence that someone has dared to water-blast him.

You freeze, your eyes wide in horror. “Oh. My. God.”

Bucky wipes his face with the back of his hand, his expression unreadable as he stares at you. You panic, leaping out of your chair and rushing over to him, grabbing the nearest paper towel in an attempt to salvage the situation.

“I am so, so sorry!” you babble, dabbing furiously at his face, then his shirt, then—oh no, his chest. Holy crap, his chest.

You keep muttering in a frantic whisper. “Oh my God, his muscles. I’m touching the muscles—holy crap, I am such a perv. This is inappropriate workplace behavior—so much muscle—why did I write him this way?” 

You write every Bucky character this way.

Bucky raises an eyebrow, watching you with a mix of amusement and confusion as you continue to pat him down like he’s a spilled drink. 

“Are you... okay?”

You blink up at him, paper towel still in hand, your brain short-circuiting. 

“I—uh—what? Yeah! Totally fine. Just, you know, touching muscles—I mean—patting you down! Because of the water! That I... spat in your face. Oh my God, I spat water in your face.”

Bucky chuckles, his smirk back in full force. “Well, this is definitely a first.”

“I’m going to die of embarrassment now. Please, just... let me dissolve into the floor.” You groan, backing away from him with the soaked paper towel in hand. 

Bucky, now completely unfazed by the whole situation, shrugs and gives you a half-smile. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just water.”

You stare at him, still mortified, and mutter under your breath, “I hate this fanfic.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. Instead of heading back to his office, though, he leans in slightly, his gaze flicking down to your water glass and then back to your face.

You freeze. Oh God, why is he leaning in? Your brain is already preparing to short-circuit again. What now? Is he about to call me out on my water-spitting habits? Does he smell fear?!

“Actually…” Bucky says, his voice dropping, his smirk now in full dangerous levels of smirkiness mode. “There was something else.”

Your heart skips a beat. Oh no. Oh no, not again.

“Yeah?” you squeak, gripping your water glass like it’s your last hope of survival. “What’s that?”

He leans in a fraction closer, his eyes practically dancing with mischief. 

“I was going to ask you for the Henderson file, but now I’m thinking...” He pauses dramatically, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a laugh. “Maybe you should get me a towel first.”

Your jaw drops. “A towel?!”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, not missing a beat, “since you’re so keen on throwing water at people.”

You blink at him, utterly mortified. “I didn’t throw it! I just—ugh, fine! I’ll get you a towel.”

He grins wider. “Good. And then... you can grab the Henderson file.”

“I’m not your assistant and your personal dry cleaner!” You groan, turning to leave, but of course, you have to get in one last grumble.

Bucky watches you, highly amused. “You sure? You seemed pretty eager to pat me down a minute ago.”

You freeze mid-step, spinning around with wide eyes.

“Oh my God, I—I wasn’t—I was just trying to—you know what? Never mind!” You throw your hands up in exasperation. “I’m getting the damn towel!”

You rush off toward the break room, muttering under your breath the entire way. “This fanfic is literally out to humiliate me. Why did I write him like this? Why, past me, WHY?”

Behind you, you swear you hear Bucky chuckle softly, and it only makes you walk faster.

× × × ×

Y/N, now on a mission to redeem herself after the whole spitting water fiasco, rushes back to her desk with the Henderson file in one hand and a towel in the other. No more screw-ups, you tell yourself. No more embarrassing moments. I’m going to act like a professional human being for once.

You take a deep breath before stepping into Bucky’s office. He’s seated behind his desk, looking as composed as ever, typing away on his computer. Cool, calm, collected, you remind yourself. You carefully place the file on his desk, and then with way too much flourish, dramatically whip out the towel.

“Your towel, sir!” you announce like you’re a butler in an old movie, bowing slightly for extra effect.

Bucky glances up from his computer, one eyebrow raised. “Thanks... I think?”

You nod seriously, trying to keep a straight face. 

“Only the finest hand towels for the World’s Wettest CEO,” you add, clearly not able to stop yourself from clowning.

Bucky’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s definitely a flicker of amusement in his eyes. 

“You know, usually assistants don’t mock their boss right after spitting water on them.”

Before you can fire back with something clever, he stands up and—without breaking eye contact—starts stripping off his jacket.

Your eyes widen to saucer-size. Oh SHIT. Look at those biceps, I bet he could crack an egg with those.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you blurt, taking a cautious step back. Your eyes dart to the door, your brain immediately thinking of the worst possible scenario.

Bucky casually shrugs off his jacket, tossing it onto his chair, and takes a slow step toward you. His sleeves are rolled up just enough to show off those forearms—and, holy hell, is it getting hotter in here?

You gulp, stumbling back another step. “Why are you coming closer? What—no, don’t come any closer!”

But he doesn’t stop. In fact, he smirks as he undoes the top button of his shirt, rolling up his sleeves even higher as if he’s about to give you some kind of private show.

Your brain completely short-circuits. 

“I will call the police!” you shout dramatically, pointing a shaky finger at him. “Don’t make me do it! I have a phone!”

Bucky takes another step, clearly enjoying watching you unravel.

“Stop!” you squeak, backing up so fast that you almost trip over your own feet. “I swear, if you come any closer—Please! I’m a virgin!”

Wait. WHAT? Did that actually just come out of my mouth?

Bucky stops in his tracks, his brow furrowing in pure confusion. His smirk falters, and he blinks at you like you’ve lost your mind—which, honestly, you might have. 

“Wait, what?”

You slap your hands over your mouth. 

“Not... not really!” you blurt, mortified, feeling your face turn a thousand shades of red. “I just—what—I mean, I don’t know why I said that! Forget I said that! WHY DID I SAY THAT?”

Bucky stares at you, clearly torn between laughing and being genuinely confused by your outburst. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You point at him again, eyes still wide. “You were stripping! I thought—I don’t know what I thought! I thought you were about to—look, can you just—stop doing whatever it is you’re doing?”

“I was just getting comfortable. You’re the one making this weird.” He finally gives in and lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. 

“I’M MAKING THIS WEIRD?!” you shout, nearly flailing in disbelief. “You just started stripping in your office like we’re in some kind of romance novel!” Well. . .technically. . .

Bucky shrugs, clearly amused by your total meltdown. “I wasn’t even halfway through, and you’re already threatening to call the cops.”

“I panicked!” you cry, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “What do you expect when you come at me like some... some walking smirk with biceps?”

“Relax, hey you, I’m not gonna bite.” He takes one more step toward you, the grin on his face infuriatingly smug. 

“Right... okay... great. But, uh, no more sudden movements, okay? I don’t think my dignity can take another hit today.” You’re still staring at him, pulse racing, trying to get your heart back to normal.

Bucky, still smirking, unbuttons his shirt completely, slipping it off and tossing it aside as if the entire interaction hasn’t completely short-circuited your brain. Now, he’s shirtless, and your brain is screaming 

NOPE, NOPE, yes NOPE.

But he doesn’t stop there. Bucky takes another step closer, clearly enjoying the absolute chaos unfolding on your face. He gestures toward the towel still clutched in your hand. 

"Since you’re so eager to help, why don’t you pat me dry?”

Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?!”

He tilts his head, completely unfazed by your reaction. “You spat water on me. Now it’s only fair you clean up the mess.”

You clutch the towel tighter, staring at him like he’s grown a second head. 

“Do you not have arms? You seem perfectly capable of drying yourself off with all these...” you gesture wildly to his bare chest, your voice rising in pitch, “...muscles!”

“I’m not saying I can’t. I just thought you might want to.” Bucky chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement.

Your face is practically on fire at this point. “Oh, I’m sure you’re more than qualified to handle it yourself!” you say, thrusting the towel toward him. “I’ll just—uh—get you some new clothes! Right?”

Bucky shrugs, clearly still enjoying your mortification. “Sure. Or you can keep patting me down. Your call.”

“I WILL NOT BE PATTING ANYTHING,” you declare, your voice an octave too high as you spin around and dash toward the door. “I’ll get your clothes!”

“Take your time.” As you stumble out of the office, you can hear Bucky’s soft chuckle behind you. 

You groan internally, your face still burning as you make your escape. 

“This is getting worse and worse,” you mutter under your breath, gripping the door handle a little too tight. “I miss action Bucky. At least he wasn’t... shirtless and smug! God, why is this happening to me?”

You rush out the door, praying for some kind of divine intervention—or at least for your brain to stop short-circuiting every time you’re within ten feet of his ridiculous muscles.

You blink, and suddenly the world shifts beneath your feet. One second you’re in the office, still mentally head-slamming yourself for your awkward slip-up, and the next, you’re standing in front of two massive, intimidating double doors.

You blink again, confused. “Wha—What the—Wait... where the hell am I?”

Your eyes scan your surroundings, and it finally hits you—you’re in some fancy penthouse building, way too expensive-looking to be anywhere near your normal, boring life. And then, just as you’re about to piece things together, glowing words flash above your head:

Business Proposal, Part 4: Sick Leave

You stare up at the words in disbelief, slowly lowering your water bottle. It went up to Part Four?!

“That’s new,” you mutter, looking around as if someone’s watching you. “Why does this feel like some kind of twisted game show?”

Before you can contemplate further, a voice—loud, deep, dramatic, and all-knowing (totally not Bucky’s voice)— suddenly echoes around you, narrating your life like it’s the season finale of a telenovela.

“It’s been a few days since Bucky’s break-up with Yasmine, and Y/N has been very worried—”

“No, I’m not,” you cut off the voice, raising your hand like you’re silencing an annoying ad.

The narrator pauses, then comes back, clearly annoyed. “Yes, you are.”

You cross your arms defiantly. “Nope. Not worried. Zero percent concerned. I barely even remember her name—Yasmine, was it? See? Forgettable.”

There’s an exasperated sigh from the unseen narrator. 

“Yes. You are. Bucky’s been distant, and you can’t help but wonder if this is affecting him more than he’s letting on—”

“Oh my God, I literally do not care,” you interrupt again, dramatically rolling your eyes toward the sky, wondering if you could just teleport out of this madness. “Can I at least care about something that doesn’t sound like a rejected soap opera plot?”

“You do care,” the voice insists, the irritation building. “You’ve been wracking your brain about how to comfort him, wondering if now is the right time to—"

You wave both hands in the air like you’re directing traffic. “Nope. Absolutely not. I’m not showing him anything. If anything, I need a vacation. A spa day. A break from all this fanfic insanity.”

There’s a very heavy pause, like the narrator’s deciding whether to keep talking or just yeet themselves into the void to escape you. 

Then, with maximum exasperation, the voice finally asks, “Do you ever just shut up?”

You gasp, clutching your chest in mock horror. “Wow! Rude! Is that how you treat all your characters? Is this why all my stories keep getting abandoned halfway through? Is this your fault?”

There’s a very, very tired sigh. “You do know this is your story, right?”

You blink, then scratch your head. “Oh yeah...”

You can practically feel the narrator rolling their eyes, probably contemplating retirement.

“Fine,” the narrator says, now with the exhausted tone of someone who just ran a marathon through an obstacle course of idiocy. “You’re not worried. But you are here at Bucky’s penthouse, and he’s expecting you. And deep down—”

“I literally do not care!” you yell, flailing your arms like a cartoon character.

The narrator groans again, even louder this time. “Why do I even bother?”

“Honestly? I’ve been wondering the same thing,” you mutter, finally stepping forward to push open the ridiculously huge doors. “Let’s just get this over with. What’s next? Is Bucky going to burst into song? Or is this the part where I accidentally knock over some expensive art?”

“For the love of—Just get your ass inside!” the narrator snaps, sounding like they’re one sarcastic comment away from quitting entirely.

You pause, your hand hovering over the doorknob, and then snort. “Wow. Testy, aren’t we? Someone needs a narrator spa day.”

There’s a long, drawn-out sigh that echoes in the hallway, clearly done with your antics.

“I’m just saying,” you add with a shrug, “I’ve been through a lot today. I feel like a little sass is warranted.” You push open the door with an exaggerated flourish, muttering, “I swear, if Bucky’s standing there with some dramatic lighting or a tragic backstory about Yasmine, I’m out.”

The narrator doesn’t respond, probably because they’re off somewhere wishing they had another job. You step through the doors, bracing yourself for whatever ridiculous fanfic nonsense is about to hit you next.

You step through the doors, fully expecting some serious businessman vibes from Bucky. Maybe sitting behind a giant mahogany desk, brooding over paperwork, casually looking out at the city skyline like the high-powered CEO you wrote him to be.

But no. Instead, you find Bucky on the couch, wrapped in what can only be described as the world's most excessive blanket burrito. 

His hair’s a mess, his nose is red, and—oh my God—he’s holding a mug like it’s the last ounce of warmth in the universe. Surrounding him? A small fortress of tissues and cold medicine.

This is not CEO behavior!

His head slowly turns toward you, his eyes slightly puffy, and you swear there’s a pitiful sparkle in them. He sniffs dramatically, like a rom-com hero in his darkest hour. 

“Y/N?”

Your brain stutters. “I—uh—what?”

“I think... I’m dying,” he whispers hoarsely.

You blink at him, completely dumbfounded. Oh, this is bad. This is really bad. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. It’s the “sick love interest” trope. Your life has officially hit peak cliché.

“Dying?” you repeat, hands on your hips. “Aren’t you, like, a super soldier? And a CEO? You manage hostile takeovers and boardroom battles, and now you’re... this?”

Bucky sniffles again, managing to look both miserable and somehow, annoyingly attractive. He shifts under the mountain of blankets and croaks out.

“I’ve never been this sick in my life.”

“You have a cold. A cold.” You cross your arms, staring down at the pathetic excuse of a man swaddled like a sad burrito. 

He coughs dramatically, like the very act is draining his soul. 

“It feels like... more than that.” His eyes meet yours, shining with exaggerated sorrow. “Can you... can you make me some tea?”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. This man is running an entire company, and right now, I’m supposed to be... what? His nanny?

“You’re serious?” you ask, incredulous.

Bucky nods weakly, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. 

“With honey. And lemon,” he rasps, voice full of the weight of his tragic illness. “Please.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes so hard you might strain something, and head to the kitchen. 

“What happened to you, man? You’re supposed to be intimidating! A force to be reckoned with! What is this?”

He sneezes loudly from the couch, followed by a pitiful groan. “I’m emotionally compromised.”

You pause mid-step. “You’re emotionally compromised... because you have a cold?”

Another tragic sniffle. “It’s more than a cold. It’s the end.”

You fill the kettle, trying not to laugh. “The end? Of what? Your dignity?”

From the couch, Bucky coughs again—this time sounding even more over-the-top dramatic, like he’s trying out for a role in a period drama. 

“I think it’s... fatal.”

“Oh my God, you’re unbelievable,” you mutter, pouring the hot water into a mug, stirring in honey and lemon. “How are you the same guy who intimidates boardrooms? This is embarrassing.”

Carrying the tea back to him, you set it on the table in front of him with a flourish. “Here’s your tea, Mr. CEO. I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“You’re... my hero.” He takes the mug with both hands, looking up at you with wide, grateful eyes.

You deadpan at him. “If you expect me to wipe your nose, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Bucky takes a sip of the tea, then stares at you like you just saved his entire existence. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You sigh, sitting on the edge of the coffee table, staring at him like a tired parent. “Is this what rich people do? Get over-the-top colds and drag innocent assistants into their melodrama?”

“It’s not just a cold. I’m suffering.” He pouts, snuggling deeper into his blanket cocoon, clearly loving every second of the attention. 

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m suffering too, buddy.”

Bucky coughs again, though you notice it’s less dramatic this time. “You’d do this for me, though... right?”

“Do what? Be your unpaid nursemaid?”

“Would you?” Bucky flashes a smirk, though it’s weak and slightly pathetic due to his current burrito state. 

You sigh, feeling like you’ve officially reached rock bottom. “Sure, why not. What’s next? Should I bring you soup and read you a bedtime story?”

His eyes light up. “Could you bring me soup?”

You throw your hands in the air, standing up in mock surrender. “Oh my God, I walked right into that one.”

From the couch, Bucky manages to look even more pitiful. “Please?”

“I swear, if this turns into a romantic montage, I’m jumping out the window.” You groan dramatically, heading back to the kitchen. 

Somewhere, the narrator’s voice hums, clearly enjoying this too much. "And so, Y/N found herself drawn into a reluctant role of caretaker, tending to Bucky's every need—"

“OH MY GOD, NO!” you shout to the ceiling. “Not this trope! Why is this happening?!”

Bucky, now fully alert, blinks at you. "Who... are you shouting at?”

The narrator sighs dramatically. “You’re really ruining the ambiance.”

Bucky's eyes narrow, looking around the room as if someone's going to pop out of the walls. "Seriously, who are you talking to?”

“GOOD,” you snap, ladling soup into a bowl. “Ambiance is overrated.”

Bucky frowns, staring at you like you've completely lost it. "You're... really freaking me out right now." 

You mutter under your breath, "Join the club, pal.”

As you return with the soup, you place it in front of Bucky, who looks up at you with the sad puppy eyes again. “Thanks for taking care of me, Y/N.”

“This is my life now, isn’t it? Fanfic sick-nurse tropes and soup.” You groan, staring at the ceiling.

The narrator hums again. “Exactly.”

You dramatically flop down on the couch next to Bucky. “Next time, just write me into an action scene. I miss action Bucky.”

“Action Bucky’s tired. Let CEO Bucky have his moment.”

You groan again, burying your face in a pillow. This fanfic is literally trying to kill me.

[devoutekuna]

Playing a sport with them

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

Sukuna-

"Come on daddy" trying to drag the man out of the house, refusing to move an inch, he wasn't in the mood for baseball, especially since his daughter couldn't even play properly. "No, go away" flicking the girl off him.

Somehow he ended up outside pitching a ball for his daughter. "Watch this daddy!" Missing the ball miserably, it kind of stung watching his daughter be so unathletic despite only being 3. "How pitiful.." leaving snarky remarks under his breath. "Again!" Throwing the ball back at him. "Again" that's all he could hear as she kept throwing the ball back, hoping to at least get a hit before sunset.

Nanami-

This man isn't big on sports, never in your lifetime would you expect your husband to be good at it, somehow he was always in shape. So he had to be good at something, and that something was.. tennis? His daughter finding his old collection of tennis rackets he was yet to throw out. "Daddy! Let's play tennis" dumping the balls and 2 bats on the ground near his leg. "Since when did you play tennis ken?" Inquiring into his past life.

"Hi-yahh!" Hitting the ball but not over the net, as much as he loved his daughter. He couldn't handle playing with her, she didn't know how to play properly, to make it worse, she couldn't even reach over the net. "Try again." At this rate, he could sit down and eat his breakfast before she even got it over the net.

Feeling bad for the girl he decided to go teach her. "Throw the ball up" doing as he said. "Now swing" grabbing her arm as he guided it towards the ball, hitting it perfectly over the net.

Geto-

He used to do swimming till he realised how ridiculous he looked with his hair all in the swimming cap, that's why he switched to volleyball. Plus they didn't have a pool in the house so he opted for some volleyball. It was around 7pm in winter when she wanted to play, so of course it was too dark, meaning they couldn't head outside incase she got lost. "Okay, don't hit the chandelier or any of the pottery." Making sure you weren't around to watch how stupid the pair were being. He'd never play in the house with a ball, it was a rule you both agreed on, yet he was doing it right now. "What do you call that?" Hitting the ball towards him. "A serve?" He didn't know what he was talking about since it had been so long since he played. "Well! I did a serve" putting her hands on her hips like a superhero.

Gojo-

"Go easy on him Satoru" handing him a water bottle, your son and his father were currently playing basketball after switching from baseball. Gojo knew how much of an advantage he had compared to his off spring, his height, experience and overall everything since he was against a 3 year old. "Nope" slapping his arm. "Why not?" Your son was a crybaby, always tearing up whenever his father did something he didn't like. "Because.." he didn't have a proper reason for why he wouldn't go easy.

"Hurry up daddy" throwing the ball at the man's back, you didn't understand how easily he was caught off guard when his family was around. "At least let him get a shot, Satoru!" Shouting at your husband before he ran off.

Toji-

He didn't really do sports growing up, he normally just threw a ball to his ceiling for hours on end, trying to clear his boredom. "Catch papa!" Throwing the toy ball at him. He wasn't in the mood for any kind of activity, he just wanted to be lazy today. Purposely throwing the ball into the room opposite him, sighing as he saw his daughter run towards the ball. "Catch!" Throwing it back at him, this process went on for a few minutes. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he wasn't in the mood, just seeing her chubby face light up each time.

[mamadoc]

Come along with Tim and Lucy as they travel with Tim’s team to San Francisco!

Here’s a preview of one of the scenes to wet your palette.

Eventually, Tim emerged from Lucy’s bedroom. His hair was all messed up and his pajama pants were hanging low on his hips.

Angela was sitting on the couch by the front door sipping at her coffee and working on something on her laptop. “Ohhh,” she said with a knowing tone of voice. “Well, it’s about time.”

“Yeah. I know your spiel about sleeping in. And I know I have to get ready and get to batting practice soon. I’ve been awake for a while; I just didn’t want to get up,” Tim said as he took the coffee cup with his name written on it and started warming it up.

“Nope. That’s not where I was going, but I can understand why you didn’t want to get out of bed. It’s about time that you and Lucy…”

“She’s awake, too. She just wanted to take a shower,” Tim said simply.

Angela cackled. “I can see that,” she said with a grin. “Things can get a bit… messy, you know.”

Tim screwed up his face and glared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Sex. Obviously,” she said as though he was an idiot.

“We didn’t have sex, Ang. She’s still recovering from everything. I’m not going to push her to have sex right now,” he said with a roll of his eyes as though it were obvious.

Angela raised her eyebrows at him. “But you’re coming out of her bedroom barely dressed with your hair uncharacteristically messy and fingernail marks on your back? And you’re telling me you didn’t have sex?”

Tim’s hand shot to his back to see if he could find any scratches. Sure enough, they were there. Lucy must have scratched him with her nightmares the night before. “Yeah. That’s what I’m telling you. She had nightmares, so I came to sleep with her. That’s all. Sleep. She’s not ready for more yet.” He tugged up his sagging pajama pants and reclined back on the chaise near her with his coffee in hand.

Angela narrowed her eyes at him. “Alright…” she said skeptically. Then she started talking to him about some of the things she had been working on.

Fifteen minutes later, Lucy came out to join them. She had her hair wrapped up in a towel, and she was wearing one of the plush hotel bathrobes. She moved through the room on her crutches quietly and then sat down next to Tim on the chaise. “Good morning,” she said to both of them.

“Hey. You were so quiet. I would have come to get you if you had said something,” he said, scooting over on the chaise to make room for her.

“I know. But I’m fine,” she said. Then she let go of her crutches and turned herself to lay back with her head on Tim’s chest and her body curled into his.

Tim wrapped his arm around her to hold her close. Then he slipped his other hand into her robe to place his hand over her tattoo again.

Lucy sighed and kissed his chest. This was her new favorite way of cuddling with Tim. She felt so safe and loved.

“Yeahhhh…. Not ready yet,” Angela mumbled to herself.

Tim turned to Angela and shot her a glare. Then he turned back to Lucy and his features immediately softened as he kissed the top of her head.

Lucy looked back and forth between Tim and Angela inquisitively, unsure what she was missing. But neither of them seemed inclined to answer, so she moved on. “Do we have any plans for today?”

Read more here:

[stariikis]

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐤 | 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 01

synopsis ; when riki's having a hard time with his school work, you decide to buy him strawberry milk. not knowing that it's the milk flavour (and the colour) he despises most. if you're wondering, yes, this is in the same world as my chaptered fic, 'you in the rain', and is one of the bonus chapters i have planned. you can check out the fic here.

Perhaps your presence, a constant voice peeping up from across the library table, disturbs Riki more than he would dare to admit. 

Because the way he briefly glances up at you before groaning and pinching his nose-bridge… it’s probably not a good sign, is it? He frowns in concentration, starting to do his anxious tick you’ve recently noticed is a bad habit of his, clicking and unclicking his 0.5 ballpoint pen. Loudly. And then he twirls the pen over all four of his fingers, confusion evident over all his features. 

“I don’t get it,” he huffs, looking mildly annoyed with himself. Opposite of him, you watch as his stare on the Math worksheet threatens to combust it into flames. You should be used to this, after accompanying him here so many times just to watch him get frustrated over the questions he can’t do. 

Okay, maybe it’s only been a few days, but it feels like a lifetime of awkwardly sitting around, unable to help him because you can’t be asked to solve for x even if your life depends on it. Perhaps you’re just not cut out to be Nishimura Riki’s study companion. Your eyes trail back up from the worksheet (that looks like utter gibberish to you), and analyse your friend’s face instead. 

And then a wave of sadness washes over you. He’s in the advanced Maths class, filling out an advanced Maths worksheet. The fact that he’s able to understand at least half of the foreign language of algebra is already stunning to you. Anything above a C would please you, in fact. But you understand. You understand him with all the hours you spent revising the new vocabulary in English class. You understand with the blood, sweat and tears you poured out over a difficult type of sentence structure you just could not grasp. 

It always hurts to be practically terrible at things you’re supposed to be the best at. 

“I wish I could help,” you say uneasily, taking another glance at the problem Riki’s stuck at, and wishing you didn’t. It’s a humbling experience, to say the least. “But, um, I can’t even understand what the question is asking for.” 

The cogs in Riki’s brain seem to churn for a while, before the fire goes out once more and the light leaves his eyes. “Nope. I really don’t get it.” 

You tilt your head at him, trying to exude as much comforting empathy as you can. Apparently the kind look in your eyes must be either terrifying or out-of-character, and Riki just lets his eyes travel around your face in judgement. You’d like to believe it’s the friendly type of judgement and not the, you actually look really stupid kind of judgement. 

But it’s Riki, so who knows? He could very well still be lost in his own world of complicated formulas and mental equations, numbers of different universes coming together into his mind like they’re meant to be. That’s at least how it sounds like when Riki talks about Maths. 

Wanting to leave him alone to his own thoughts, you pack up your things and head out to the nearby convenience store. Riki doesn’t bat an eyelid, he’s pretty used to you quitting halfway through a study session as well, and he probably needs you out of the way anyway. To solve the biggest mystery of the universe on that piece of paper. 

Once you step foot into the store, you make an instant beeline for the chilled drinks section, gracing your eyes with the marvellous selection of flavoured packet drinks and plastic milk bottles. Perhaps Riki would like one of those to drink on while he studies. You always seem to focus better with a sweet drink in one hand and a pen twirling around in the other. 

The array of choices stuns you for a moment, though, and with a pang you realise you don’t know Riki’s favourite milk flavour. He’s never mentioned it before. In fact he doesn’t talk much about himself to you. Or, according to Jungwon, to anyone. You’re not sure if he’s closed off on purpose, or he’s just quiet in nature. To you, they’re two very, very different things. 

Well, it wouldn’t hurt to buy Riki your favourite flavour, would it? Anyway, it would give you a chance to find out what he really likes, and conversation could possibly start to flow from there. It’s like a mastermind plan, the way you grin mischievously to yourself and snag the cheapest bottle of strawberry milk you see. Because, unfortunately for you, you’re a student. Fashionably broke. 

When you get back to the library, Riki stares at you in bewilderment as you walk back to his study corner and proceed to dump a singular plastic bag with two bottles of strawberry milk sitting inside it. Lips pursed together in curiosity (another one of his cute little habits that you can’t help but to notice because they’re literally right in front of your face), Riki leans over and peers into the bag. 

He raises his eyebrows, sits back down, and pulls one of his legs over the other. 

“How did you know I like pink things?” he whispers, eyes the widest you’ve ever seen them. “And that strawberry milk’s my favourite milk flavour?” 

“Really?” You cannot believe, by lucky chance, you’ve actually guessed it right. And you’re matching with him, and you guys can go buy more strawberry milk together in the future… and…

”What’s strawberry milk in Chinese?” 

You snap out of your thoughts and watch intently as he unwraps one of the plastic straws and pokes it carefully into his drink. 

“草莓牛奶” 

“你喜欢，是吗?” (you like it, right?) Riki smiles slightly and takes a sip. For some reason his facial features stiffen for a second and he looks like he’s trying not to make a face. 

You chuckle softly at his expression. “是. 哇，你的中文真棒!” (Yes. Wow, your Chinese is so good!) 

“因为我在喝…” (because I’m drinking…) He pauses for a while, trying to recall the words. “你最喜欢的草莓牛奶.” (your favourite strawberry milk). 

Your cheeks heat up almost immediately and the hot feeling doesn’t fade for a good long while, even as the librarian scolds the both of you for bringing food and drink into the library and as you walk back home alone after Riki claims with an urgent look that he has somewhere to be, dumping his half-full strawberry milk in the trash. 

It’s not until a week later you find out from an astonished and very bemused Jungwon that Riki absolutely hates strawberry milk and the colour pink, even though the boy has been gifting you the pinkest of milks every day since that day, claiming he loves it; claiming it’s the most refreshing drink he’s ever tasted. 

That afternoon, when you walk back into class after lunch, you see a bottle of banana milk sitting atop your desk, and you can’t help but to laugh to yourself.

if you're not here from 'you in the rain', pleasee go give it a read if you're a taylor fan or when i fly towards you lover! tysm for reading - stariikis ☆

synopsis ; based on the Chinese Drama, 'When I Fly Towards You', in which you, a going-on-high-school English genius named Huang Yuting meets the Mathematics genius of the 10th grade, Nishimura Riki, underneath the rain.

taglist (open)

@laylasmother @seunnimg @natalunae @enwonz @tomomorin

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[era404-skib]

A Bit Disappointed with the Latest Episode

I feel like it was, in the nicest way possible, badly written. It feels all OOOOH SHITTTT when you first watch it but you realise the obvious "Wait, the fuck is this" moments after a bit of time to ruminate.

-○ Inconsistencies ○-

What. Has. Happened?! The Titans were fast and quick to fight previously, and they knew what they were doing, but now they don't??? That yellow-green energy ball that knocked TTV down? He could've batted it away with his sword right back to where it came from the same as how TCam later bats away the purple-yellow energy with the entrapper arm.

Then TTV lunges for him midair. Dont??? You can lunge from behind or teleport your hands onto him??? Cut off his jetpack like you are actually smart instead of leaving it to TSpeaker later??? I don't this this is TTVs fault either, it was just written poorly.

Titan Speaker and Camera fight pretty greatly except for when the muscle mutant appears on his shoulder. Keep blasting and just take him off and crush him in your hand! The mutant is about the size of a Strider Toilet and in the VERY FIRST EPISODE that TCam debuted in he picks up a strider and crushes it with ease. Can't be much different here.

"WAIT!!! YOU NEED ME!!!!!" should've said that shit EARLIER before you were fried and stripped of your upgrades. A big toilet that can ram and shoot slow energy balls is of no use against the astros. Cringed hard at that

TTV is well able to core beam down the flying toilets with the cargo but not obliterate GT like he did to the Scientist??? The fuck??? DFB this needs improvement

I know this is very nitpicky but I didn't like TTV's face at the end. Should be a >:( or even a D:< in the VCR font but nope.

-○ Powerscaling ○-

The Titans, as previously pointed out, are much slower compared to the previous few episodes. What's more, it just seems to a constant "Oh, my new guy is better" between the sides, except the Alliance hasn't been getting any improvement since TTVs return. Oh, now there's a secret agent which Fucking Gets your 2 Elites. You can't hurt him btw. Oh, now theres an overpowered Astro Toilet which can launch a titan that's caught in the mere blast radius. You can't hurt him btw. Oh, now GT is an indestructible hunk of meat that can be given the beating of a lifetime but still severely damages your titans and doesnt die. You can't hurt him btw. Ridiculous.

The jetpack he pulled out of his ass is the stupidest thing I've ever seen in the series. What the fuck??? This is like when kids play with eachother as their OC's and "Oh, you're about to kill mine, but it has a sudden get out of jail free card and there's nothing you can do". Fuck off. If more of this shit gets pulled the series is gonna jump the shark.

At this rate I think DFB is setting it up so that it's Secret Agent vs Astros vs Skibidis. Unless he gives us a new overpowered race or something, and j don't even want that. Have it be a fair but tough fight between them all.

[snowbatsims]

VAMPIRE INTERMISSION #4, part 3

After most of the the party guests had left, only one remained: Maria-Elise, mother of Morten. She wanted to move in. Time to discuss.

BAT: ZZZZZZzzzZzZZzZZz

EINARR: Don't mind Bat. EINARR: So! You wanted to move in? MARIA: That I did! EINARR: Why? If I may ask... MARIA: Well, I think I'm getting a bit too old to live on my own. And I trust you guys to not eat me.

EINARR: Old? You? Maria-Elise Torsteinsdóttir, you're speaking to a man nearly twenty lifetimes old, MARIA: Well, I'm still a bit old for a human. EINARR: Fair enough! EINARR: And yeah - personally I kind of swore an oath to never hurt Morten's living relatives, he'll only have you for so long. EINARR: Actually, how long did you mortals live these days?

MARIA: See, that's the thing! MARIA: I am getting concerningly close to my Elder stage. I'm kinda Rune's age, remember? If I weren't an elder already, I will be soon! MARIA: And then after that, who knows how long my elderdom will be? EINARR: Oh! MORTEN: Oh......

MORTEN: THAT'S IT, she's living with us!! RUNE: Yeah sure, I won't mind- MORTEN: I am NOT letting MY MAMMA randomly die of old age off screen. Nope, not happening!! MORTEN: I will renovate Kvikindi's old room for her all by myself if I have to!! EINARR: Hah, go for it, I won't stop you. Kvikindi moved out years ago, anyway.

RUNE: I'll help! EINARR: I would gladly help as well. RUNE: Yeah!! It will be great to have a human in this house again! MARIA: Oh, thank you guys! EINARR: We have never had a human living in this house, Rune. Unless you count the ghosts, who are by definition no longer alive. RUNE: Ah right... Wait, ghosts? EINARR: You didn't notice our ghosts yet? RUNE: No! MARIA: Ghosts?

MARIA: I mean, I knew this house was haunted, but only by vampires! BAT: You mean us???? MORTEN: Oh hey you're awake. EINARR: Welcome back, child. EINARR: And yes, dóttir, this house is quite haunted by ghosts. Sorry to say. MARIA: I mean, I don't know why I'm so surprised! How do you even deal with the ghosts?

BAT: We don't. They're friends.

BAT: Sometimes, we hear them making funny noises in the walls. And moaning... So much moaning. And tapping! Random tapping, going *tip tip tip* on the tables and windows and walls, BAT: Once one of them grabbed my shoulders, and shrieked loudly into my ears the most ghastliest noise! BAT: But that's just their way of saying hello, you know? :D RUNE: And you never told me??? BAT: Of course I didn't. You'd shit your pants. RUNE: :/ BAT: And hey, not to mention that time-

MORTEN: Bat I SWEAR to all of Einarr's gods that if you literally end up scaring my own mother from moving in with us, I am stealing uncle Sigurd's vampire slaying kit- BAT: Wow, Mort. Chill. No you won't.

MARIA: No, I appreciate the honesty. I think it'll be fine. It's just ghosts. Maybe I won't even notice them... just like Rune. BAT: See? :D MORTEN: ...

RUNE: Well!! Enough about ghosts! How about we just show her around? Like the room we were thinking of? MARIA: That would be wonderful, thank you.

MARIA: Yeah... yeah! Sure! MARIA: I can work with this space.

RUNE: Well hey, if you need any help moving your stuff, we're right here! MARIA: Yes. Thank you. Would it be too much trouble to also change the wallpaper in here? It's a bit too dark for my taste. RUNE: Not at all!

MORTEN: You sure you won't mind living in a house full of vampires? MORTEN: I mean, Einarr said he won't hurt you, but Rune has been known to snack on his family members - RUNE: Excuse me, I always asked them first. MORTEN: Alright, Rune's probably fine too. But you know Bat has been really fond of your blood. BAT: snnzzzzZZ Z Z MARIA: Yeah. MARIA: But you guys cannot enter without invitation, right? I'll just lock my bedroom door every night. MORTEN: Hah. Smart.

MORTEN: Welcome to the house, mom.

And so, she moved in.

NEXT -->

[jerzwriter]

All right. I am not OK. I am not even going to pretend. I am unwell. Jesus Christ I need someone to take me for a ride until I calm down, and I don't have anyone remotely this appealing to do it with. (The few options that come to mind have me saying, fuck it, have a bottle of wine! lol).

GIRL, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!?!?!?!?

I am SO GLAD I read this one last because, OMG, my emotions are all over. I just... buckle up for more comments below... OK? I can't breathe.... LAWD.

"Don't worry." Chris told her. "He won't be near as handsome when I'm done with him."

OK - yes he will - it's just the way it is. It's the law. It's physics. IDK it just is. lol

That first at bat....

"I can think of one thing I'd like to see on the table."

Like I thought I could get through one without using it, but NOOOOO I hate him - that man could get away with ANYTHING. Damn.

"Get away from her!" The startled pair turned towards a furious Ethan Ramsey.

ETHAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! REALLY!!!!!!!

"Bullshit." Ethan hissed. "I know you. Chris is off limits." "Excuse me?" Chris snapped. "Doesn't sound like she is to me." Tobias winked at her over Ethan's shoulder. Ethan grabbed hold of Tobias's jersey. "I mean it, Carrick. You've messed with me enough. Just because you poached our patient, doesn't mean you can also take her."

I don't want this to end... OMG. Don't let this one end....

"So what if he tries to get close to me?" She looked away from Ethan. "It isn't like you want to be in that position." "Damnit, Chris." Ethan whispered. "You know why I can't--" "Save your breath." She muttered. "I've heard it all before."

Me. Right now. I've gone feral!

"Wait." He grasped her arm when she tried to walk away. "Carrick isn't the type of man you can tease and not get burned." Chris jerked her arm away. "Don't worry." She glared at him. "I know all about being burned."

AND IT JUST KEEPS GETTING BETTER!!!!!!! THE AUDACITY DR. RAMSEY!!!! THE FECKING AUDACITY!!!!!

"And just where would you like to have this drink?" "I'm not really up for a bar." She admitted. "My place or yours?" He asked. "Who said anything about us drinking together?" She teased. "Why waste this rare opportunity to do that very thing?" He countered. "True." She relaxed back into the seat. "Let's go to your place." Cutting her eyes towards him, she noticed his smug smile forming. "Don't think anything other than a drink is going to happen." She warned. "Whatever you say." He winked at her.

I just told my daughter where she can find the life insurance policies in case I don't make it through the rest of this... it's a real possibility.

One drink and some flirting later, the two wound up in his shower. As the warm water fell upon them, they did all they could to heat the other's skin until they burned.

Well, that did not take long! 😂😂😂😂

"Show me." She arched into his heated touch. "I want to do everything you thought about." That was all he needed to hear.

I AM UNWELL!

"How about dinner first?" "So, it's a real date?" She joked. "Ummhmm." He rolled over on his back, tucking her in beside him. "Is that still a yes?" "I will need energy to begin whatever round we're on." She replied. "Yes, you will." He squeezed her close. "Then, I guess I'll see you later."

WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

But wait..... WAIT!!!!!

"Look, I--" Chris tried to apologize. "Save it." He snapped. "I don't want to hear it." Without giving her a chance, he stormed back the way he came.

OK, Listen here, babe! Turnaround is fair play.....

But goddamn, Chris. I' 'd never risk 🍆 that good. Nope. No sir. Fuck the grant, fuck the patient. Let the hospital close. I can get another job, but quality 🍆 like that is ONCE in a lifetime, girl. 😂😂😂😂

Sorry, I'll try to regroup...

It didn't take long to find him in the crowd. What surprised her was who was sitting with him. What is June doing here? The way the two were laughing and talking, it was obvious they knew each other a little too well. The more she observed, the angrier Chris became.

BABE!!!!... No.

"Chris!" June greeted. "I didn't expect to see you here." "Really?" Chris folded her arms. "I'm surprised. I thought you made certain to know where all your pawns are." June laughed. "Only the most naive make the best pawns. You've been my favorite by far, Chris." Tobias eyed her then glanced up at Chris. June leaned closer to him, placing her hand on his thigh. "Our games are so much fun, aren't they?"

Ay dios mio... esta pendeja esta muerto. No no no... my Jersey is coming out and I'm fucking cursing in Spanish now. That's when the earings come off. I would soooooooo have Chris's back. It's down!

I need a Xanax.....

"Call me Carrick when you're ready to be with a real woman again."

They were both panting and glaring at one another.

I want to punch him in the face too, but that's kind of hot... lol

"Piss off." Chris hissed at him. "Ya lavvy-heided wankstain."

LMAO I love her.

She slumped back against the brick wall of the bar and lowered her head into her hands. "I know you won't believe me." She began. "But this wasn't my idea."

🥺🥺🥺

I'm poisoning June. I'll make it look like an accident.

"We never should have gotten close." She added at the end. "Not with all the animosity between the hospitals." Tobias took a deep breath and slowly released it. "Do you regret it?" "Stealing your patient?" She slowly nodded. "I don't think it was worth it." "Not that." He turned towards her. "Us?" She looked up at him. "No."

I mean, I do since you and June had your own thing going at the same time. I know you and I weren't serious, but to have actually been with someone who could be with that two-faced bitch--" "I wasn't seeing her while seeing you." Tobias interrupted. She still looked doubtful.

OK I love this - I have this whole backstory in my T/C HC too - love this. I could kiss you. "Come on, Chris." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You know. You have to have seen that what we have is..." He cursed, kicking at some trash. "What we have is what? She prodded. He groaned then yanked her into a heady kiss. She wrapped her arms around him, giving back as good as she got. Tobias stumbled back from the passion in her kiss, hitting the wall with her locked in his arms. When it came to an end, he lifted his head to look into her eyes. "See?" He said softly. "Then don't say we shouldn't have gotten together." He cuddled her close.

"Then why didn't you answer my calls?"

Yeah, we're gonna need to talk about this one a little deeper, sir. You will need to pay on some level. I don't suggest Chris cut him off or anything. That's just self depravation, but you need to be held accountable for this M-Fer (Girl, you've got me in a way... lmao)

"Knowing that I'd fallen for you, it stung that you didn't feel the same way. That I was merely your pawn in all this." "I hate her." Chris bit out. Tobias snorted. "Yeah, she isn't the easiest person to be around." Chris bit back the fact he'd found her easy enough to sleep with.

Fuck Tobias. I'm in love with Chris. I love being Bi - this is wonderful. She is perfection.

Keeping one arm around her waist, Tobias led her to his car.

I NEED FOLLOW-UP!!!!!!

I DEMAND ASK NICELY AND BEG FOR MORE!

I need a June retribution scene. I need more of them.... 🥵🥵🥵... I need more Scotish cursing... I need vinciation

I NEED TOBIAS APPRECIATION WEEK TO NEVER END!!!!

I will be back later, I need to take a long walk.... LMAO OMG.....

Your mission, if you choose to accept it! :)

I'm sending a GIF to everyone who has participated in Tobias Carrick Appreciation Week this year. Can you create a ficlet (or anything you desire) based on this by Sunday? If so, you'll get one extra chance at the prize to be selected on Monday! :)

Here is your GIF:

Okay. LOL! LOVE the above gif so much. Before I begin a whole new AU about this with my otp, here's a short background on my MC. Chris, is American born to Scottish parents and was raised mostly in Inverness. She has a temper, but usually just tells someone off. It would take a lot to get her this violent, like say someone not only manipulating her but also hooking up with a doctor she's fallen for. Going back to Book 2 and rewriting Canon and my own HC for this one.

Rated Mature for Sexual Content and Language. Chris's upbringing allowed me to find some unique Scottish insults that cried out to be used in this.

Masterlist

Game on

The Edenbrook/Mass Kenmore Softball Game

"Good luck out there, Chris." June said. "Remember to run Carrick's face in the dirt for taking that grant from us."

"Don't worry." Chris told her. "He won't be near as handsome when I'm done with him."

June slowly smiled in hearing that.

"Good. I can't wait to see him get knocked down a peg or two."

Taking a deep breath, Chris began to stretch. Shaking her arms out, she made her way to the pitcher's mound.

Of course, she thought, he would be first up to bat.

"You got this Chris!" Elijah shouted.

"Does she now?" Tobias taunted. "You sure you can do this, Valentine?"

Chris was tempted to stick her tongue out at him. The childish thought made her snicker. Tobias's stance eased when he saw her smile. His own lips curved at how cute she was in her uniform.

It was all the distraction Chris needed to throw the first strike. Shocked, Tobias tried to regroup. He narrowed his eyes at her as he tightened his grip on the bat. She winked at him, shaking his concentration, once more.

"Strike Two!" Elijah yelled out. "I don't know about you, Carrick, but I think she can do this."

Tobias rolled his eyes as he lifted his bat over his shoulder once more.

Chris eyed him, taking in how his uniform conformed to his body. A soft smile appeared on her lips as she thought how he might drive her crazy but he was very attractive.

He blinked at that secretive smile she had. After all the escalation between them with taking patients from one another, he never expected her to actually check him out.

"Strike three!" Elijah cackled. "Oh man. You didn't even bother to swing at that last pitch."

"Take it as a goodwill gesture." Tobias replied. "Next time, I won't go easy."

***************

Between innings...

Chris searched through the coolers of beer until she found a bottle of water.

"Keeping your head clear for the game, Valentine?"

She spun around at the sound of that teasing voice.

Tobias Carrick grinned at her as he reached past her for a bottle of water.

"Glad to see someone is taking this as serious as I do." He winked at her.

"You should wish I wasn't." She couldn't help but smile at him. "Then you might stand a chance to actually hit the ball."

He narrowed his eyes at her. Each time she pitched, he struck out. Though impressed, he wasn't about to admit defeat.

"I've still got a few points on that board." He reminded her. "And there will be even more before the night is over."

Chris stepped closer to him. "You wish that were true."

Tobias took another step closer. "You're going to eat those words."

"Doubtful." Her eyes flickered down his body. "I'm sure you win a lot of things, but tonight isn't going to be one of those nights."

"Want to bet?" He leaned down until his nose nearly touched hers.

His gaze settled on her mouth before locking eyes with hers.

"That all depends," she replied, "what's on the table?"

His lips quirked into a flirty smile. "I can think of one thing I'd like to see on the table."

Her eyebrows rose. The image of just what he'd do to her on that table made a flash of heat go through her body.

"I bet you do." She tilted her head. "I guess we'll just have to--"

"Get away from her!"

The startled pair turned towards a furious Ethan Ramsey.

He moved between them, glaring at Tobias.

"Leave her alone." Ethan bit out.

Tobias narrowed his eyes at him. "What's your deal, Ethan? We were only talking."

"Bullshit." Ethan hissed. "I know you. Chris is off limits."

"Excuse me?" Chris snapped.

"Doesn't sound like she is to me." Tobias winked at her over Ethan's shoulder.

Ethan grabbed hold of Tobias's jersey. "I mean it, Carrick. You've messed with me enough. Just because you poached our patient, doesn't mean you can also take her."

Before Tobias could snap back, Naveen forced them apart.

"Calm down." He ordered. "Take it out on the field."

Tobias snorted. Downing his water bottle, he made sure to knock his shoulder into Ethan's as he walked away.

Ethan grit his teeth, before turning to Chris.

"What did he say to you?" He demanded.

"Nothing but typical trash talk." She replied. "There was no need for you to get involved."

She straightened her shoulders. "I can handle myself. I don't need you jumping in to save me."

Ethan removed his ball cap and ran his hand through his hair. He knew he should have never agreed to play this asinine game.

"I know you can." He looked past her to where the Mass Kenmore team was sitting. "Seeing him try and get close to you, it made me..."

He cursed under his breath.

"So what if he tries to get close to me?" She looked away from Ethan. "It isn't like you want to be in that position."

"Damnit, Chris." Ethan whispered. "You know why I can't--"

"Save your breath." She muttered. "I've heard it all before."

"Wait." He grasped her arm when she tried to walk away. "Carrick isn't the type of man you can tease and not get burned."

Chris jerked her arm away.

"Don't worry." She glared at him. "I know all about being burned."

Ethan watched her storm off with a heavy heart.

******************

After the game, Chris was still full of restless energy. Their win over Mass Kenmore hadn't made her feel any better about the war they'd been having over patients.

When her friends invited her out to celebrate, she sent them on without her. The thought of another night spent in Donahue's with the same faces and conversations didn't appeal to her.

Trying to decide whether or not to just go back to her apartment, she heard her name called out.

She searched for the source and saw Tobias leaning against the side of his car.

"What?" She said once she made her way over.

"Congratulations." He said.

A reluctant smile peeped out at him.

"Thanks." She brushed a lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. "I didn't think you'd be up for saying that after I hit that last pitch of yours."

"It's just a game, Chris." He responded. "I wanted to win, but I still respect how you played it."

She folded her arms. "Something tells me you like to play a lot of games."

He smirked. "So many things in life are more fun when you make it a game. Why not enjoy it?"

"Is patient care a game to you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, Chris. I'm not heartless. If I hadn't thought that Mass Kenmore could give Stephanie better care than Edenbrook, I wouldn't have offered it."

He leaned closer to her. "You would have done the same if the situation was reversed."

Chris hesitated. "You're right. I would have."

He smiled at her. "You and I are more alike than you think."

She laughed, shaking her head. "I wouldn't go that far."

"No?" He placed his hand upon his chin as if considering that. "I guess I'll have to work harder to prove it to you."

He pushed off from his car and opened the passenger door for her. "Want me to give you a ride home?"

Biting her lip, Chris shook her head. "I don't think I'm going home just yet."

"Where are you going?" He glanced around the nearly empty parking lot. "Looks like everyone else left to party without you."

She shrugged. "I'm not really in a celebratory mood."

"What kind of mood are you in?" He asked.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I guess I'm more restless than anything else."

"Well, how about I drive you around until you decide what you want to do?" He offered.

"Okay."

She slid into his car. Her heart started picking up speed when she realized this would be the first time she was actually alone with him.

"Where were you going?" She asked once he buckled up.

"Home." He replied with a grin. "To drink my loss away."

She couldn't help but laugh. "I wouldn't mind a drink."

He turned towards her. "And just where would you like to have this drink?"

"I'm not really up for a bar." She admitted.

"My place or yours?" He asked.

"Who said anything about us drinking together?" She teased.

"Why waste this rare opportunity to do that very thing?" He countered.

"True." She relaxed back into the seat. "Let's go to your place."

Cutting her eyes towards him, she noticed his smug smile forming.

"Don't think anything other than a drink is going to happen." She warned.

"Whatever you say." He winked at her.

*****************

One drink and some flirting later, the two wound up in his shower. As the warm water fell upon them, they did all they could to heat the other's skin until they burned.

Chris ran her hands down his body as he kissed her neck. Her pent up frustrations with her life and work demanded she take advantage of her situation. She needed this release, almost as much as she wanted the man driving her on to give in to her every desire.

Ethan's words echoed in her mind, causing her to pause in her caresses.

The thing was, she wanted to burn. Even if it was just for this one night, she wanted to simply sate her passionate nature with no worries about what the morning would bring.

Tobias began to kiss down her body. He noticed her furrowed brow and lack of movement. He knew he needed to work on drawing her back into the night he was imagining.

He reached over and turned the water off, before urging her out.

"You're distracted." He said, handing her a towel. "Do you not want this?"

Chris paused in drying off. "No, I want you."

He stepped closer, all his usual cockiness nowhere in sight.

"Good. Because I've wanted you from the moment I first saw you."

"Right." Chris sarcastically replied. "I'm sure I really caught your eye at that diner."

He settled his arms around her waist.

"I noticed you immediately." He softly brushed his lips against hers. "Each time I saw you after that, I wanted you more and more."

His deep voice admitting to something like that, even though she doubted the sincerity, made her move right back into his embrace. Her lips sought his, and the two raced right back into the inferno they'd started.

Stumbling back into his bedroom, they fell upon the bed, limbs tangling as they continued to kiss.

Tobias moaned as Chris rolled on top of him. Deciding to relax and see what she'd do next, he urged her to take the reins.

His breath hitched the moment she kissed him. Her body moved over his, teasing and promising so much more. He cupped her face, looking into her eyes as she caressed him.

"You have no idea how often I've fantasized about this." He murmured, pulling her down for another kiss.

"Show me." She arched into his heated touch. "I want to do everything you thought about."

That was all he needed to hear.

*****************

As light began to filter through the slits of the bedroom blinds, Chris and Tobias collapsed exhausted on his bed.

Trying to catch her breath, Chris looked over at him. When he turned towards her, a breathless laugh popped out.

"You have some imagination there." She teased.

He chuckled, scooting closer to her. "That was only half of what I've fantasized."

"You're kidding?" Chris smiled at him. "I don't think I have the energy to see what else is in store."

She stretched, drawing his appreciative gaze towards her lithe body.

"There's always later." He reminded her. "Say like tonight?"

"Why Dr. Carrick," she snuggled closer within his arms. "Are you asking me out?"

"That depends." He pressed a lingering kiss to her lips.

"On?"

"If the answer is yes."

She laughed, shaking her head over how good she felt in this moment with him.

"That's a definite yes."

"Then I'm asking you out." He chuckled when she softly groaned.

"You're lucky you're cute." She teased.

"I know." He sighed. "It's both a curse and a blessing."

"You poor, poor man." She patted his cheek.

Tobias took her hand and pressed a kiss within her palm. His eyes found hers as she laced their fingers together.

"How about dinner first?"

"So, it's a real date?" She joked.

"Ummhmm." He rolled over on his back, tucking her in beside him. "Is that still a yes?"

"I will need energy to begin whatever round we're on." She replied.

"Yes, you will." He squeezed her close.

"Then, I guess I'll see you later."

She began to ease out of his bed, only to be dragged back within his arms.

"Where do you think you're going?" He murmured against her neck while dotting kisses along it.

"Home." She relaxed back within his arms.

"No need to rush off so soon." He urged her back under the covers.

"I'll stay if you let me sleep." She warned. "If I don't get a few hours, there's no way I'll be any fun later tonight."

"We can't have that." He laughed when she poked him in his ribs.

She curled up against his side. Her eyes closed and she felt her body relax completely. It'd been a while since she felt so blissfully carefree.

It was a feeling she didn't want to end.

******************

Weeks went by in blur. Chris seemed to find her stride in both her professional life and her personal life. That one night with Tobias had blossomed into a weekly date night, adding even more happiness.

She knew she was falling for him. It was difficult not to. He had the ability to get her mind off the possible shutdowns that loomed over their hospitals. His humor and unending charm kept her thoughts firmly in the moment instead of the fears of the future.

Plus the closeness that was developing between them made her care all the more.

She didn't know which she loved most, the amazing sex or the talks they would have afterwards. The nights spent with him ended up being the best part of her week.

Whatever it was, she wasn't going to question it.

The only problem was June Hirata.

Chris was still a bit uneasy around the diagnostician. Seeing how two-faced the woman could be made it hard to completely trust working with her.

Then one day June approached the team with an idea.

"Did you know Senator Ed Farruiga's at Mass Kenmore?"

"No." Chris replied.

"Apparently he has some illness that no one can figure out." She paused to make sure she had everyone's attention. "I think we should encourage him to come here."

Ethan leaned back in his chair in thought. Baz seemed a little uncertain about the idea.

"I would love to give it a go, but we can't just go take one of their patients." He argued.

"Why not? No one has to stay at a hospital where they aren't getting the best possible care. Can you imagine how much publicity we would get if we helped another famous face?" June glanced at Ethan. "It would help us be able to help more people who really need us."

"It would." He conceded. "And we are a better team than Carrick's."

"Are we really going to do what they did with Stephanie?" Chris asked.

"Don't you want some payback for that?" June countered. "We lost a huge grant! They don't need the Senator as much as we do."

Chris didn't like the idea of continuing the game they'd started with Leland Bloom, especially with how close she'd gotten to their opponent.

"Let's do it." Ethan decided, needing a chance to get back at Tobias.

As they worked out a plan of attack, June checked her messages.

"My contact says that Dr. Carrick and his team haven't diagnosed the cause yet. They have only begun the process of ordering lab work."

She looked at the clock. "Given how long it takes for Mass Kenmore's lab techs to come around for blood samples, I say we have an hour tops to poach him."

"Then let's get going." Ethan ordered.

******************

It took less than an hour to find the senator and to convince him to transfer to Edenbrook. As she followed Baz out of the hospital, Chris heard the one voice she wished to avoid.

"Chris?" Tobias called out. "What are you doing here?"

He noticed the senator further ahead of her, changed and in the process of signing discharge papers.

His eyes narrowed when he realized what was going on.

"Look, I--" Chris tried to apologize.

"Save it." He snapped. "I don't want to hear it."

Without giving her a chance, he stormed back the way he came.

***************

Later that night, Chris headed to a bar she knew Tobias liked to frequent. He'd already ignored her calls and texts. If she was ever going to have the chance to explain, she knew it'd have to be in person.

It didn't take long to find him in the crowd. What surprised her was who was sitting with him.

What is June doing here?

The way the two were laughing and talking, it was obvious they knew each other a little too well.

The more she observed, the angrier Chris became.

"Chris!" June greeted. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Really?" Chris folded her arms. "I'm surprised. I thought you made certain to know where all your pawns are."

June laughed. "Only the most naive make the best pawns. You've been my favorite by far, Chris."

Tobias eyed her then glanced up at Chris.

June leaned closer to him, placing her hand on his thigh. "Our games are so much fun, aren't they?"

Chris was beyond livid. For months June had used her in every situation. Now to see that Tobias was in on whatever manipulative game they were playing caused her to snap.

She lunged forward almost punching June in her smug face. The table had stopped her momentum right before contact, giving Tobias a chance to grab her around the waist and pull her back.

Chris struggled against him. Her Scottish accent became thicker than usual as she unleashed a flurry of insults upon the pair.

"Let me go, you wee fuckbumper!" She shouted. "I'm going to show that dug licking pish aff a nettle just what happens when she messes with me!"

"Chris!" Tobias grunted when her elbows struck his ribs. "Calm the hell down!"

June began to laugh harder while watching the pair.

"This is the best you can do?" She taunted Chris. "Oh my god, I can't believe I actually thought you might be worthy competition."

"Bolt, ya mangled fud!" Chris yelled.

Still snickering, June gathered her things and headed towards the door.

"Call me Carrick when you're ready to be with a real woman again."

With a last burst of energy, Chris tried to break free of Tobias. She needed to knock June down just once. Her rage demanded to feel that woman's face under her fist.

Tobias yanked her back and half dragged her out the back door.

Once they were outside, he let her go.

They were both panting and glaring at one another.

"What the shit was that?!" He snapped. "If you'd actually touched June, she'd have had your ass in jail so fast it'd have made that hot head of yours spin."

"Do you know what that means?" He demanded when Chris remained defiant. "That means your career would be over!"

"Piss off." Chris hissed at him. "Ya lavvy-heided wankstain."

"Fuck this." Tobias rubbed his hands over his face. "I don't even know why I'm bothering to talk some sense into you."

"I don't either." Chris fought back tears.

"Why did you come here?" He asked when she fell silent. "Just to rub it in that you too can steal a patient?"

"Weren't you the man who said it was all a game?" She shot back. "And if I knew Edenbrook was the best for someone, then I should make it happen?"

"Damnit." He muttered. "Look, June told me you were determined to make me pay for my little stunt with Stephanie."

"That I was?" Chris released another profanity laden tirade.

The more descriptive she got, the more Tobias struggled with his laughter. He was still furious over everything, but he couldn't help but be impressed with her imaginative use of curse words.

After a particularly long sentence about June's reputation with men, all the fire seemed to go out in Chris.

She slumped back against the brick wall of the bar and lowered her head into her hands.

"I know you won't believe me." She began. "But this wasn't my idea."

Against his better judgement, Tobias moved a little closer and leaned next to her.

"What happened?" He asked.

The whole story poured out along with Chris's guilt.

"We never should have gotten close." She added at the end. "Not with all the animosity between the hospitals."

Tobias took a deep breath and slowly released it. "Do you regret it?"

"Stealing your patient?" She slowly nodded. "I don't think it was worth it."

"Not that." He turned towards her. "Us?"

She looked up at him. "No."

Her face scrunched as if she was about to cry. "I mean, I do since you and June had your own thing going at the same time. I know you and I weren't serious, but to have actually been with someone who could be with that two-faced bitch--"

"I wasn't seeing her while seeing you." Tobias interrupted.

She still looked doubtful.

"Come on, Chris." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You know. You have to have seen that what we have is..."

He cursed, kicking at some trash.

"What we have is what? She prodded.

He groaned then yanked her into a heady kiss.

She wrapped her arms around him, giving back as good as she got.

Tobias stumbled back from the passion in her kiss, hitting the wall with her locked in his arms.

When it came to an end, he lifted his head to look into her eyes.

"See?" He said softly.

She slowly nodded.

"Then don't say we shouldn't have gotten together." He cuddled her close.

"What about my part in the senator?" She looked up at him. "Can you let that go?"

"Yes." He tightened his arms around her. "Of course I can."

"Then why didn't you answer my calls?"

"Because June made it seem like you'd strung me along to keep me from suspecting anything when you did eventually steal a patient." He admitted. "Knowing that I'd fallen for you, it stung that you didn't feel the same way. That I was merely your pawn in all this."

"I hate her." Chris bit out.

Tobias snorted. "Yeah, she isn't the easiest person to be around."

Chris bit back the fact he'd found her easy enough to sleep with.

Tobias sighed. "Want me to take you home?"

"No." Chris mumbled. "I'm too keyed up to see my roommates."

A tender smile began to form as he recalled a similar conversation they'd once had.

"Want me to drive you around until you calm down?"

Chris looked up at him, recalling the night of the softball game. Seeing that he remembered it too made her melt against him.

"I'd love that."

Keeping one arm around her waist, Tobias led her to his car.

[carewyncromwell]

“Raise a glass to freedom, Something they can never take away, No matter what they tell you... (Someone will come running to take you home...) Raise a glass to all of us -- Tomorrow there'll be more of us, Telling the story of tonight!  (Out of the shadows...) The morning is breaking, (They'll tell the story of tonight!) And all is new -- (All is new) All is new! It's only a matter of time...”

~“Found/Tonight” by Ben Platt and Lin-Manuel Miranda

x~x~x~x

featuring Atticus Grimsley @cursebreakerfarrier and Bartholomew “Bat” Varney @carewyncromwell, and also referencing Danny Gibson @catohphm, Jackson Knightly, Rex Brokenshire, and Teddy, Adelia, Bertie, Violet, and Holly Selwyn-Ellison @thatravenpuffwitch​​

x~x~x~x

It was a significant event in 1915 when Atticus Grimsley finally retired from the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. His successor ended up being one of Atticus’s former students, a well-respected Auror named Dan Gibson, who was soon embraced by the remaining faculty and students just as Atticus had been when he’d first arrived. Not that Atticus had had any doubts -- Danny had always been a very bright lad, and it was good to see him prosper. 

Even in retirement, however, Atticus continued to visit Hogsmeade village regularly. Although yes, it was a good way for him to catch up with his former work colleagues and students, all those who knew Atticus knew the main reason was so that Atticus could spend quality time with his closest companion -- the vampire called Bartholomew Varney. 

Varney, affectionately called “Bat” by just about everyone, was an oddity among his kind. Whereas many vampires actively tried to cloister themselves away in colonies far away from humans so as to not provoke their blood lust, Bat spent his days meditating in the attic of Honeydukes’ Sweet Shop and spent his nights wandering through the village. There he’d enjoy the atmosphere, go shopping, and even engage with those precious few students from the neighboring school who earned his esteem enough to merit a lecture in History of Magic or Potions. And, of course, he’d talk and laugh with “Grim,” as he affectionately called Atticus, for hours on end, well into the night and more warmly than with anyone else. Then they’d often leave the village together, still talking avidly, with Bat returning to Honeydukes in the wee hours of the morning, just before sunrise. 

They were a funny pair, Bat Varney and Atticus Grimsley -- funnier still, many thought, as Atticus got older and grayer and Bat remained ever youthful in look, even despite his hollowed-out eyes and sickly pale complexion. There were points where Bat almost treated Atticus like his aging uncle, in how he’d help his compatriot up out of his chair, and yet there were other times they acted almost like a couple, in how Bat would help Atticus put his coat back on, before going back outside. And still even throughout all that, regardless of the little gestures here and there, every day they smiled, laughed, teased, debated, entertained, and confided in each other like nothing less than the very best of friends. 

One of these many nights Atticus and Bat spent together was in the fall of 1927, in the height of the so-called “roaring 20′s.” Atticus had come down with a rather nasty chest cold, so Bat had swung by his cottage in Cumbria to cheer his friend up and brew him some proper Pepper-up Potions, along with the usual Sleeping Draught. Bat clearly took great pleasure in the opportunity to be useful to his old friend -- he was even humming to himself as he set about chopping up the mandrake root on Atticus’s kitchen counter. 

“Joy to the world -- the Lord is come!

Let earth receive her King...”

Atticus couldn’t fight back the tired grin winding its way onto his face. “Singing Christmas carols? Come now, Bat, we’ve not even passed October yet...”

“Mayhaps if Halloween developed some proper carols of its own, I could sing those instead,” Bat called over playfully from the next room. “Until then, I shall just have to enjoy the best time of the year a bit early -- goodness knows those two months will fly by soon enough...”

Atticus shook his head amusedly. It was something he regretted, though, when his sinuses began to pound behind his eyes angrily -- the older man flopped back down onto his pillows with a low groan. 

Bat strolled through the open door of Atticus’s room, a tray in his hands. Stacked haphazardly on it was a full tea service, a goblet with white steam coming off of it, and two leather-bound books. There was also a newspaper folded under Bat’s arm -- no doubt the most recent edition of the Evening Prophet -- and the familiar white stick of a Blood Pop sticking out of his mouth. 

“Hang in there, Grim,” he said with a slightly wry, but still rather gentle expression. “I’m coming.”

He put the tray, books, and newspaper down on Atticus’s side table and immediately moved to Atticus’s bedside, the steaming goblet in hand. 

“Can you sit up on your own?” he asked. 

Atticus coughed loudly, only to hold his head at the pain that shot through as a result. “Of course I can -- I’m not that infirm...”

The over-sixty-year-old man eased himself up into a seated position in bed. Atticus’s stubbornness only served to make Bat grin that bit more toothily around his Blood Pop. 

“What’s that smirk for?” Atticus asked with a soft grunt as he adjusted himself so he could lean back against his headboard. 

Bat’s grin only broadened. “Nothing. Just thinking you haven’t changed a bit.”

Atticus gave a loud, sarcastic laugh. “Rubbish. The very first thing out of your mouth when you arrived was that it looked like I’d grown another gray hair.” 

It was a comment that had hurt more than Atticus would’ve ever admitted. He hated knowing he was getting older. Ironically it was something he’d never paid much mind to before -- he’d found himself losing track of his own birthdays even back when he was still a boy -- but since befriending Bat, Atticus had become much more aware of it. The ex-professor knew that Bat had had to disappear from his loved ones’ lives, just to keep his sanity in the face of watching them shrivel up and die before his eyes while he stayed the same. And yet Bat was staying by Atticus, even as he aged. And once he’d retired, Atticus found himself somewhat adrift without the consistent, relentless schedule of teaching. It had certainly been nice to have so much time to himself at the start, but it was also a bit terrifying, to have this thing that had defined so much of his life suddenly be gone...to not be as quick or strong as he once was...to catch himself having to refresh himself on routine spells like Aguamenti, simply because he’d gotten out of the habit of using them...

With a chuckle, Bat sat down on the bed beside Atticus. He slid the smoking goblet into his hands, holding both of them around the piping-hot glass, no doubt to ensure Atticus had a secure grip on it before letting go. Atticus himself, however, couldn’t stop himself from staring down at their joined hands: Bat’s as strong as ever, no matter how sickly pale, over his own rosy, but age-spotted and wrinkled ones.

“You got it?” said Bat.

“Of course I’ve got it,” Atticus shot back, a bit more sourly than he meant, as he pulled his hands and the goblet out of Bat’s grip. “Stop treating me like an old man.”

He took a long sip, only to choke at the feeling of the hot liquid scalding his throat. Once he’d recovered, Atticus quickly finished it off, breathing in the steam as it poured through his stuffed-up nostrils, dissipating the mucus and phlegm clogging up his sinuses. 

“I’m the old man out of the two of us, Grim.” 

When Atticus looked up at Bat again, the vampire’s expression had lost the smile, becoming a bit more serious. The ex-professor averted his eyes down to the still smoking goblet. 

“Yes, obviously,” Atticus said uncomfortably, “but it doesn’t show on you. But I’m not that helpless, you know -- you don’t have to coddle me so much.”

“I’m doing that because you’re sick, Grim, not because you’re old.”

Bat considered Atticus for a moment. Then he gave a great suck to the Blood Pop in his mouth and, very tentatively, brought up a cold hand to Atticus’s forehead, so as to feel his temperature. 

Atticus flushed a very dark red. “...B-Bat?”

Bat’s scarlet eyes were locked on his hand on Atticus’s forehead rather than Atticus’s face as he gave another loud slurp to the Blood Pop in his mouth. 

“I won’t be able to stay into the morning,” he said lowly. “I’ve got to make sure you’ll be all right, before I leave.”

Atticus stared up at Bat, taken aback by just how serious he looked. He could feel his heart racing, and he tried desperately to will it into submission -- he knew Bat would be able to both hear and feel it, and the last thing he wanted was to needlessly antagonize his blood lust. 

“I’m all right, Bat,” he murmured, his voice coming out oddly breathy. “I am.”

Bat gave another loud suck to the Blood Pop in his mouth as he looked at Atticus. Atticus could see red creeping in on the edge of his friend’s eyes and could tell he was having trouble, being so close to him -- and yet he powered through all the same.

“You will be,” he said softly. “I’ll make sure of that.”

Smoothing Atticus’s graying, sweat-soaked bangs from his face, Bat then closed his eyes and forcibly removed himself, retreating to the corner of the room so he could take his pewter flask out of the inside of his waistcoat and take a long swig. Then, taking several deep breaths, he chucked the spent white stick from his mouth, took a fresh Blood Pop out of his pocket, and stuck in his mouth before sweeping back toward the kitchen. 

“I forgot,” he said in a noticeably brighter tone, “The eldest Honeydukes gave me some hazelnut chocolate scones for me to bring along for you.”

Atticus blinked. “Really? That was thoughtful of her.”

He shifted his gaze down to the tea service Bat had put out. The vampire had already prepared Atticus a cup of tea just the way he liked it, so the ex-professor gently picked it up and sipped it as he picked up the Evening Prophet next to the tray. 

The tea smelled lovely. His nose was already clearing up nicely. 

“Indeed,” Bat said amusedly. “She recalled your ‘voracious sweet tooth’ and thought you’d be the best test subject for her new recipe.”

Atticus bit back a laugh. “Considering the talent of the chocolatier in question, I’m sure it’ll be lovely.”

Taking another sip of his tea, he perused the front page. The headline at the top, however, dimmed the light in his expression significantly. 

GELLERT GRINDELWALD TERRORIZES PARIS

Rally hosted by infamous Dark wizard ends in an explosion of magical flames only barely contained by French Aurors

‘First New York City and now Paris,’ thought Atticus grimly. ‘He’s getting bolder, if he feels brave enough to act out in such large cities, protected by such powerful magical ministries...’

“...working on a new caramel recipe, if you’d like to try that as well...”

“Mm,” said Atticus, only vaguely taking in what Bat had said. The article was holding his attention captive.

‘Thirty dead or wounded...a good chunk of them French Aurors who’d been purposefully lured to the event, just to be made an example out of...burned alive with a lethal casting of Protego Diabolica...’

The mental image of a dozen young men with faces like the wizards he used to work with at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement rippled over Atticus’s mind, making his stomach clench with nausea.

A clink to his left made Atticus straighten up sharply. Bat had returned with one of Madam Honeydukes’s scones and had just put the plate down on the tray beside the teapot. 

“You’re going to lose your appetite, reading that,” Bat said lowly. 

Atticus couldn’t tell if Bat was reproaching him or not -- it made him react a bit defensively. 

“I want to know what’s going on in the world, Bat, whether I’m sick or not.”

To Atticus’s surprise, Bat’s expression actually softened. 

“...I understand.”

He held out his hand expectantly.

“Hand me your cup -- I’ll pour you a new one.”

Atticus frowned. “I can do it my -- ”

“I know you can,” Bat cut him off smoothly. “But I want to do it.”

Atticus considered Bat for a moment, his eyes flitting down to his open hand. Then he relented, handing the empty cup over to Bat so that he could pour Atticus a new cup of tea and add in the proper amount of sugar and milk.

“It’s disgusting,” Atticus murmured.

Bat handed him the cup. “You mean Grindelwald and not the tea, I hope?”

“Yes, of course,” Atticus said quickly. His face then grew that bit grimmer. “...What he did to those Aurors -- to the city -- to his own supporters, just for not being loyal enough. And all in the name of ‘protecting’ the Wizarding World!” His blue eyes flared with anger. “It’s absolutely vile.”

Bat’s own scarlet eyes hardened significantly. “It is. As are all people like him.”

He picked up the empty potion goblet and strolled back out into the kitchen as if to go clean it out. 

“Men like Grindelwald...they don’t see anyone else as truly human, unless they align perfectly with their demented world view. Unless they’re wizards, or white, or Protestant, or Pureblood, or whatever else they’ve decided elevates them over everyone else. And, of course, unless they likewise ascribe to the idea that those people are inherently superior, for that reason...for what does it matter if you’re the perfect Pureblood specimen, if you’re a ‘blood traitor’ that sees other people as just as human as you are?”

Bat’s voice, however level and quiet, betrayed a lot of resentment and righteousness, smoldering just under the surface. 

Atticus’s eyes narrowed a bit as he nodded.

“For the life of me, I will never understand such people,” he said. “Though I suppose in a way, that’s probably a good thing.”

“It is,” agreed Bat. “One thing is for sure, though -- blokes like Grindelwald don’t stop until they’re forced to. Yes, the British Ministry was able to prevent Grindelwald from torching Paris, but they didn’t capture him. They didn’t incapacitate him. Therefore it’s only a matter of time before he does something else that’s much worse.”

Atticus took another sip of tea. As he did, however, something made him pause, his lips lingering on the cup. He skimmed the article one more time, before straightening up a bit to look out the doorframe toward the kitchen.

“...British Ministry?” he repeated with a raised eyebrow. “In the article, it says the French Aurors dealt with it.”

There was a very long silence. It was only punctured by the light clink and snap of Bat cleaning out the goblet and putting it back in the kitchen cabinet.

“Bat?” said Atticus.

Bat didn’t answer. Atticus’s frown deepened.

“Bat -- ”

“I heard you.”

Bat’s voice had become quieter and more detached. The sound troubled Atticus that bit more -- Bat only ever detached emotionally when he was upset. It made Atticus inch himself out of bed, supporting himself on the edge of his headboard as he straightened up and shuffled over to the doorframe. 

He found Bat cleaning the kitchen, wiping the counter clean with a wet rag. His eyes were focused solely on what he was doing, so it was clearly busy work more than anything: something to distract him. He did stiffen ever-so-slightly when Atticus approached -- no matter how quiet Atticus might try to be, he could never sneak up on a vampire. Not that Atticus cared -- he had no interest in getting the drop on Bat. Instead he merely walked over to stand beside his friend, leaning on the edge of the counter and watching his pale, gaunt face as he stubbornly refused to look at him. 

“Robert,” Atticus said a bit more gently. 

The name had a visible impact on Bat. It made something flutter through his expression -- something more youthful and almost vulnerable -- to the point that it was almost like a boyish flush, bringing life back into his palid cheeks. He turned to Atticus very abruptly, his scarlet eyes seeming oddly rounder than before. It made the sharp, bright light in them shine more handsomely than ever -- more like a young man, rather than that of an old soul trapped in a young frame. 

The handsomeness of Bat’s eyes didn’t falter even as he his expression turned much more evasive and hesitant. 

“...The French Aurors at the event were all slaughtered,” Bat admitted softly at last. “The Aurors who saved Paris were from our department, in Britain. ...It’s something Minister Fawley doesn’t want circulated, when the British Ministry has been trying to keep its activity in other countries quiet.”

Atticus’s eyebrows furrowed. “...Well, yes, I suppose that’s understandable -- but if that’s true, then how are you aware of it? If you’ve heard of it from an outside source, then clearly it’s already being circulated -- ”

Bat looked Atticus straight-on in the eye, and Atticus’s words died in his throat. His eyes widened slowly.

“...They told you?” he whispered.

Bat inclined his head in something of a short nod, his scarlet eyes drifting away, up onto the kitchen window.

“But -- ” Atticus stammered, “ -- but if the Ministry told you, that means that they trust you with that kind of intelligence! And the only people that the Ministry of Magic would trust with that kind of intelligence would be people who work for them. Aurors, Unspeakables, investigators...”

“...And other such agents,” Bat finished off grimly. “Yes.”

Atticus stared at Bat for a moment. Then his eyes slowly lit up and his mouth spread into an incredulous smile.

“...You’re helping the Ministry fight Grindelwald?” he whispered.

“In a way,” Bat said uncomfortably. “I’m more an academic resource than anything. Adelia put me in contact with Minister Knightly several years back, and he sent me messages inquiring about certain things...asking me to put my ear to the ground in Knockturn Alley and such, among like-minded Dark wizards. Just try to sort out the source of Grindelwald’s new-found power, and what he might aim to do with it. Not that old Fawley’s been very forthcoming with help -- reckon it’s only because of the few contacts I worked with in the Department of Mysteries following up with me that I’ve gotten any updates since Knightly left office...”

Bat’s dismissiveness toward his work didn’t dampen Atticus’s smile one bit. On the contrary, the ex-professor was so delighted by it that he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and grabbing his compatriot’s shoulders. The affectionate gesture visibly startled Bat.

“Bat, that’s wonderful,” said Atticus. “With how much you’ve studied over the years...why, that kind of knowledge must be invaluable, to the fight against Grindelwald.”

His blue eyes sparkled with pride.

“It was brilliant of Ms. Selwyn-Ellison, to suggest you to the Minister. And so good of you, to do it...I know you’ve never much liked the Ministry, so you putting your differences with them aside, to fight Grindelwald -- it’s so good of you, to put the safety of others first.”

Red pricked at the edges of Bat’s eyes in response to Atticus’s proximity. Upon noticing it, Atticus’s smile flickered and died and he immediately backed away.

“Forgive me, I -- I forgot myself -- ”

To Atticus’s surprise, though, Bat didn’t distance himself further. On the contrary, he took the spent Blood Pop stick out of his mouth, replaced it, and then extended an arm so as to wrap it around Atticus and pull him up beside his chest. Bat buried his face right beside Atticus’s neck, while Atticus’s face landed right on Bat’s chest -- right beside the cursed, undead heart that pumped the blood Bat had to consume so regularly, just to keep his body and mind from going insane from blood lust...

“Bat?” said Atticus, startled. 

The breaths that hit Atticus’s neck from Bat’s nose were as supernaturally cold as his hand as it anchored itself on the back of Atticus’s head. 

“Thanks, Grim,” Bat murmured. 

Atticus could hear the smile in his friend’s voice, and he relaxed a bit despite himself. It was a reaction most anyone else would’ve been shocked by, considering he currently had a vampire’s fangs mere inches from his neck.

But Atticus wasn’t afraid. Bat would never harm him. He would never harm anyone, unless it was to protect someone he loved...

Atticus heard Bat take a very shaky breath and could tell that he was struggling to restrain himself. Bringing a hand up to hold onto the back of Bat’s shirt, he gently pried himself out of Bat’s arms.

“Robert,” he said softly, “you should let go now.”

But Bat seemed oddly reluctant to let go, even though his fangs were lengthening. His eyes were shut tight as his hand tangled itself that bit more in the dark strands of Atticus’s hair.

“Not yet,” he rasped.

Atticus’s eyes grew softer still. “Robert...”

“I can do it,” he repeated, a bit shakily. “I can do it.”

He took a sip from his flask without even taking the Blood Pop out of his mouth. Then, ignoring the fangs still at the front of his mouth, he brought his head down to rest on top of Atticus’s.

“I want to remember,” the vampire murmured beside Atticus’s hair. 

Atticus blinked. “Remember what?”

“What I’m fighting for, every time I go out and scout out information, for those Ministry sheep.”

Atticus’s lip twitched with a faintly exasperated frown. “I was one of those so-called ‘sheep,’ as you might recall -- as was Mr. Gibson, and as is Mr. Ellison.”

“Every flock needs a few sheepdogs around, to give them some direction,” Bat said dismissively. 

“So says someone who turns into a dog on a regular basis, whenever he needs to shepherd the Selwyn-Ellison children back to school.”

Bat chuckled lowly as his long-fingered hand trailed through Atticus’s hair absently. The ex-professor felt his flush darken that bit more every time Bat’s cold fingertips grazed the back of his neck. 

“You see, Grim?” he said softly. His set of four sharp, cat-like fangs glinted brightly as he smiled. “This is it. What I’m fighting for, right here.”

Atticus cocked an eyebrow. “Friendly banter?”

“You,” Bat corrected him. He closed his eyes as he grinned around the Blood Pop in his mouth. “When I’m with you, or Danny, or Rex, or Adelia, or Teddy, or Bertie or Vi or little Holly-berry...the Honeydukes family, and your students and mine...”

He opened his eyes again, smiling fully and handsomely no matter how monstrous his entirely scarlet eyes looked. 

“...When I see you all live your lives, and can be part of them, even just in some small way...it’s like...I’m almost me, again. Who I was before. When I can talk about silly things with you -- solve your problems and make you smile...you make me feel alive. More alive than I have in a hundred and forty years.”

Atticus felt his heart swell in his chest, seeing such sincere joy in his friend’s face. When he’d first met Bat in Hogsmeade, he never could’ve imagined such a mysterious, reclusive vampire could smile like that -- such a warm smile, such soft and...well, beautiful. As beautiful as a sunrise...a sunrise this man would never be able to enjoy again, all because of his condition that made it so that everything around him would wither away, while he stayed exactly the same...

Bat felt happy -- he felt alive, because of Atticus. It was such an empowering, yet bittersweet feeling: like a bite of savory chocolate with a terribly harsh aftertaste. It made Atticus swallow back the lump in his throat and, after the shortest hesitation, throw out his hand and clutch the back of Bat’s waistcoat and hold his friend tighter.

“You...” Atticus whispered, “...are more alive than any other man I have ever known in my life, Robert Harker.”

Bat’s hand in Atticus’s hair stilled. 

“Blood lust or no -- vampirism or no,” Atticus said more firmly, “you love life, and the people around you, more deeply than any human man. More deeply than I will likely ever know.”

Atticus’s mouth spread into a wide, open grin beside Bat’s undead heart.

“Don’t ever change. No matter what -- stay just the way you are.”

Bat was very quiet for a long moment. Then, clutching Atticus’s dark hair in his fist, he yanked himself away at last.

“I’m sorry,” he choked, “I can’t -- ”

He spat out the Blood Pop, his claw-like hand fumbling inside his waistcoat for his pewter flask. Atticus immediately reached out to help secure Bat’s shaking hand around the flask so it was easier to take a swig, and also reached into Bat’s pocket to unwrap another Blood Pop for him so that when he’d finally chugged down a good gallon’s worth of blood, Bat could immediately stick the Pop in his mouth and take several good deep breaths.

Once he’d recovered himself, the vampire chuckled.

“See?” he said playfully. “Told you I was the old man, out of the two of us.”

Atticus smiled wryly. “You know, you’re right. I think I can see the white hairs from here.”

Bat laughed louder still, as happily and sincerely as a man with no burdens to bear. It was a sound that likewise made Atticus’s smile grow that bit wider and his eyes sparkle that bit more brightly. 

[hoondrip]

-ENHYPEN REACTIONS: YOU TELLING THEM YOU’RE A VAMPIRE

paring: enhypen x reader

genre: crack, fluff

Lee heeseung:

doesn’t really believe it at first

“you know you don’t have to lie to get my attention babe”

cries once he sees your fangs

never thought his cute little s/o could be a blood sucking mosquito

just stares into space after he’s done crying

lowkey is scared of you but cuddles with you anyway

COMFORT HIM Y/N GOSH 🙄

after he’s done with his little breakdown he goes back to normal

well atleast that’s what you think

side-eyes you sometimes though

Jake sim:

lowkey is scared of you pt.2

mans is obsessed with you though

treats you the exact same

“I wouldn’t ever leave you baby, whether you’re a vampire or a worm (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃”

AWWWW

does a ton of research on your species

would want you to turn him so you could both live together forever

IM CRYING JUST BY WRITING THIS

you don’t want to do it but he keeps reassuring you that everything will be fine

he’s literally looking at you like this 🥺 HOW COULD YOU NOT GIVE HIM WHAT HE WANTS

soooo you end up doing it and he’s having the time of his life

flexing his fangs and running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off

you start regretting your life decisions right then

Jay park:

“oh..”

mans just doesn’t care

or atleast acts like he doesn’t

treats you the same way he did before

asks you a lot of questions about your capabilities

“thats hot”

is a little weirded out though

buys you a lifetime supply of blood bags

you’re confused on where they came from

but you don’t complain

knows you’d never hurt him

SO LIFE GOES ON

park sunghoon:

already knew tbh 💀

is a vampire himself

now you’re hella confused because....what???

“Oh I thought you already knew LOL”

is completely laid back and chill while you’re sitting there trying to get your brain to function

“when did you become one?”

“a magician never tells his secrets darling 😏”

asks you how you haven’t noticed the signs before

you both just shrug it off from there

COMPARING FANG SIZES IS DEFINITELY SOMETHING HE’D DO WITH YOU

would bite you out of nowhere to get your attention

superior vampire couple 😼

kim sunoo:

“what?!”

does not believe it

you show him proof but he still doesn’t believe it

at some point you actually start to convince him

doesn’t want to accept it

thinks you’re too soft and cute to be a vampire

kinda like heeseung

“nope nope nope my baby is not and cannot be a vampire”

accepts it eventually

looks at you with disgust when you drink out of a blood bag

“y/n if you’re going to be a vampire then atleast look cute while doing it”

“how the hell do I look cute while drinking out of a blood bag sunoo? 💀”

“hmph I don’t know, drink out of it with a straw or something 🙄”

yang jungwon:

“wait really?”

kinda fascinated

“can I see your fangs?”

Is in complete and utter awe once you show him

after you answer all of his questions nothing really changes

accepts it easily

still teases tf outta you though

“hey, wonnie can you hand me that book off the shelf”

“and what if I dont?? you gonna “suCk mY bLooDs?!!?)?”

“vAmPirEs dOnt SouNd liKe thAt diMwiT”

nishimura riki

“yeah okay💀”

another one who doesn’t believe it

is laughing his ass off

thinks you’re bluffing with him until you turn into a bat

SHREIKSSSSS

ends up passing out

now you’re just like el oh el what the fuck 💀

wakes up 20 minutes later giggling

“what are you laughing at”

“jeez y/n i just had the weirdest dream”

“oh really? tell me about it ni-ki”

“you told me you were a vampire and then turned into a bat, I was scared to be honest”

your turn to giggle

you contemplate on turning back into a bat to mess with him but decide against it

so you just end up never telling him

A/n: not proofread, this was fun to write tbh I might do more stuff like this 😩

[baoshan-sanren]

qi ye and woh spoilers!

I’m glad that everyone’s FINALLY seen the “My soulmate? You don’t qualify.” scene because 1. major, sick burn, but also 2. oh boy, does it say some really fascinating (and by fascinating I mean sad) things about prince jin

this is gonna be some qi ye spoilers, but in tyk, prince jin is already an emperor, and he’s an emperor because jing beiyuan and zhou zishu (along with other 3-4 people who end up dead) put him there

helian yi’s (prince jin) ambition for the throne seems to have sprung entirely from a. being named crown prince on his father’s whim, and b. as a result in having two pretty fucking awful brothers whose ascension to the throne would have likely destroyed the empire, so right off the bat, he’s a fairly sympathetic character despite some of his more unlikeable traits

like, prince jin is, in fact, the least terrible choice out of all, and even jing beiyuan, who has been entangled with him for an entire lifetime already and knows all his flaws and failings, still understands that helian yi is the only viable choice for the emperor

but the thing is, prince jin had a soulmate, and it wasn’t zhou zishu

in jing beiyuan’s first lifetime, the two are inextricably, obsessively tied together, and are, in fact, destined to be entangled again and again across seven lifetimes (”karmic allocation with Helian Yi” are bai wuchang’s exact words)

but in his seventh lifetime (the word of honor/faraway wanderers lifetime), jing beiyuan just simply decided to nope right the fuck out 

he still puts prince jin on the throne because the other choices are still abysmal, but he keeps his distance. and although prince jin’s obsession with jing beiyuan still seems to follow a similar trajectory, there is a sense that in this lifetime, he is left incomplete by jing beiyuan’s intentional distance and absence

so right off the bat prince jin is a man whose “fated person” if you will, has decided to have absolutely nothing to do with him, going as far as to fake his own death in order to escape this “karmic allocation” and spend the rest of his life with a man (wu xi) he had chosen for himself 

jing beiyuan was, in fact, the only one who KNEW prince jin, and while we’re used to seeing this “knowing” as the end game (wenzhou, the four sages), the person who KNEW prince jin simply said “I don’t want this”

jing beiyuan may know prince jin, but in this lifetime, he does not allow prince jin to know him back 

and this is why I’m fucking in love with qi ye, but also, this is why that line “My soulmate? You don’t qualify.” is so goddamn sad because you know prince jin is wrong, that the person who was actually destined to be his soulmate decided that they don’t want to be, and he’s only latched on to zhou zishu to fill that gap with someone else

[ofnifflersandkings]

Endgame Strategy

Character: Benny Watts

A/n: I said I’d write for the hot chess people so I did. The timeline for this is kinda confusing but the desperation I had to write this made me simply not care.

•

“(Y/n)!” 

A familiar voice pulled you from your current task of getting Benny’s two ton apartment door shut. You barely got yourself inside before a pair of arms promptly wrapped around you. 

You staggered backwards by the sudden weight, a noise between a wheeze and a laugh escaping you as you registered who it was.

“If it isn’t my favorite drama queen!” You pulled back to get a good luck at Beth, a big grin busting out on both of your faces.

“Come in,” She ushered you in, helping you take off your coat and asking you little questions as she lead you over to the sink.

You were a pretty established photographer for some big fashion companies, so you had been traveling with Cleo around Europe for the better half of a year. You’d telephoned Benny as soon as all of your campaigns wrapped up and he instantly insisted you come to New York to make up for lost time.

You had just started to get a word in when you felt someone come up behind you and squeeze you abruptly, practically toppling you over. “Look what the cat dragged in!”

You looked over to see Benny already looking down at you with a grin before promptly ruffling up your hair. “Hey stranger,” He grinned. You pushed him off and turned to give him a proper hug. 

You noticed Arthur and Hilton lingering behind him and you pulled yourself from his hold to greet them as well.

“You came at the perfect time,” Benny said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “We were just about to start.”

“What do you say, (Y/n)?” Hilton asked. “Finally gonna indulge us and play a game?”

You shoved his hands off of you and sent him a smile. “You don’t need some newbie slowing down your thunder,” You noticed Benny giving you the pleading look he always sent your way when you turned down playing chess. You swear you thought he knew how to deflate his eyes on purpose so he looked like a kicked puppy. “No, I don’t need your patronizing when I barely make it past five moves.”

Benny was an old childhood friend of yours, so you had known Arthur and Hilton for almost as long as he had. And they made it their personal life mission to rope into playing against one of them. But you were renowned for your patience and they’d yet to wear you down. 

Beth sent a small pout your way and handed you a glass of water. “Oh please, now who’s the drama queen. You were doing great when I was teaching you last time we saw each other.”

Benny’s gaze shot up. “What?”

You scoffed at her, completely forget about your last encounter. “Now that’s not fair, we were hardly playing. You had to show me where to move every five minutes.”

“When did you see each other?” Benny pushed.

You sighed, smoothing down your sweater. “When I was in Paris with Cleo, we only saw each other the one night and I was just bored and tipsy enough to let her show me.” 

She grinned at you, shoving her arm into you as she leant into your side. “I think you have lots of potential. I could make a grandmaster out of you, I know it.”

Benny’s eyes followed you as you moved from your standing position to sit next to him on the sofa.

“You never let me teach you how to play,” He murmured to you with a huff, causing a small tuft of his hair to fly upwards.

Benny had made several attempts to get you into the game he loved so dearly. And as one of the few constant people in his life he wanted you to be part of his world. But each time was met with a firm refusal on your part, insisting you wouldn’t get it. He’d try to pull every trick in the book, every charming smile and all the pretty words he knew to try and convince you to let him show you, but you were always indifferent to his charisma. 

It annoyed the shit out of him.

Truth was you didn’t want to risk embarrassing yourself in front of him. You’d seen him play at almost every match he was ever in and it was almost scary how good he was. You could play a casual game and maybe boast a win or two, but playing against him wasn’t something you think you’ll ever do. Besides, give him the satisfaction of having your inevitable defeat over your head? Not in this lifetime.

You let out a light laugh, smiling at Beth as she moved to grab the other boards from Benny’s alarming collection he kept stuffed in the closet. “You’re too intimidating when you play, I’d be distracted.”

Benny rolled his eyes, thinking of the stern look that permanently sets on Beth’s face. The woman who looks like she’s three seconds away from going for your neck during her games but he was too intimidating.

You took a sip from your glass of water and lightly knocking over one of the knight pieces on the board in front of you. “I don’t see why it matters, I’ll be beat regardless of who’s playing.”

He frowned, he’d always wanted to play you. Not because he cared about winning but he just wanted you to see his skill firsthand. You didn’t bat an eyelash at winnings anymore, and you never stuck around for his in-depth lectures about game theory with the other players. But he also knew you liked knowing the way things worked. And since chess was his bailiwick, Beth being the only other American player who could beat him, he knew you’d be impressed. At first he just thought you weren’t interested, so knowing you were being taught by someone else stung twice-over. 

You knew something was wrong when he didn’t send a clever remark back your way. Benny liked to think he was this cool and collected character, but really he could be quite the prima donna. Knowing him for as long as you did made him an open book, you could almost always know what he was thinking.  

“Don’t be such a baby, Bens.” You grinned, leaning over to tap the end of his nose, something you always did to irritate him. “She crushed me anyways.”

“You’d win if you let me teach you.” He argued, looking at you pointedly. 

“I don’t need to win, that’s your job,” You leaned into him, trying to stroke his ego to get him to drop the subject. 

Benny’s ears perked up and he was about to go into of his grand self-assured lectures when Beth interrupted him, promptly placing the boxes of chess boards on the table in front of him.

“I dunno, (Y/n),” Beth gloated, passing a box to Hilton. “I think he’s losing his touch, last time we played I damn near emptied his wallet.”

That got your attention, and you sat up with a laugh. “You’re kidding? In speed chess?” Your cackles only grew when she gave a proud nod. “I can’t believe I missed it!”

Benny scoffed, pushing away from you to help set up the boards. “You hardly missed anything-“

“She kicked his ass, ,” Arthur chuckled, loosening the cap on his beer bottle. “Said she’d kick him the crotch too when he tried to argue with her.”

You raised your glass to Beth in commencement. “I knew there was a reason I liked you so much.”

“Another simultaneous?” Beth asked, noticing they were moving the boards onto the floor, she turned back to you. “Have you ever seen once of these?”

You shook your head dramatically, moving from your place on the sofa to the floor so you could sit right next to the action. “Nope! I mean I know what they are, but I’ve never actually seen one.”

She smirked, placing the clock at every board while the boys situated the pieces. “Well, you’re in for a treat, these are my specialty.”

You leaned forward, placing your elbows on your knees so could you watch every move. The speed of the game was something you had long gotten used to, but it never was any less impressive. You don’t know how anyone’s brain could go that fast, but watching the pieces fly around the board completely fascinated you. 

Beth really was everything the chess magazines said she was and maybe even more amazing in person. You found it hard to pull your gaze away from her hand, watching as she completely tore through the three boys pieces. Hilton and Arthur were the first to lose, knocking over there kings.

You got ready to settle in while she took on Benny, but not even a few moments later you watched him grimace and reluctantly fish his wallet from his pockets. 

“Wow,” You breathed out, looking over at Beth with a gaze that could only be described as positively starstruck. “I mean I knew you were good, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that.”

Beth felt her face get a little warm, not used to such straight-forward praise. At least not since she was a child prodigy. She reached her hand up to brush her hair out of her eyes, and pulled her gaze away from you.

“I can do it again.”

Benny felt his eyebrow twitch, he was used to your praise being directed at him for the most part. You had grown up with him constantly talking about and challenging others to play chess. And when he started to make a name for himself he’d taken you along with him. Before your work took off, you had more time to see his games in person. But, even when you couldn’t physically be there, you always called when you saw the results in Chess Review or tuned in to one of the broadcasted matches.

He was the best in the States for a long time, so you had become especially hard to impress. He knew Beth was better him than by miles, but to finally have his title of best chess player you knew taken away made him feel scratchy. 

But he scoffed, straightening his back to try and get his focus back. “Not if I have anything to say about it, Harmon.” 

And so for about three more games, she absolutely crushed the three boys. You got closer to the boards each time, admiring Beth’s superhuman skill. It made you feel a little sting of pride, the girl was showing up three of most arrogant and skilled players you knew. 

“God,” You leaned back onto your elbows, sniffling a giggle when. “I would’ve given any amount of money to be here to see the faces on these boys when you did this the first time.”

Beth smirked, rounding up the pieces to put them away in their cases. “Me too, we could’ve gotten it all on camera.” 

You groaned. “Such a missed opportunity.”

You lolled your head over and saw Benny staring intently at the board, a deep frown on his face. You smiled, scooting over so you could lean all your weight against him. “Don’t look so sad, Bens. I’m sure you would’ve gotten her eventually.”

He laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s what you used to tell all the sorry losers I used to beat.”

You closed your eyes, settling into his side and sighing at his warmth. “You’re not a sorry loser. You’re the best chess player I know.”

“Still?”

“Hey now, I didn’t drag my ass to every one of your matches for decades for you to question my loyalty,” You teased, you opened your eyes and saw something on his wall. Nestled snug inside a frame was the first time he was on the cover of Chess Review.

“You remember when I took that?” You nodded towards it.

Benny smiled properly, his eyes getting a familiar shimmer. “Yes ma’am, I told them I wouldn’t be on the cover unless you got to take my photos,” He wrapped an arm around you. “Course if I had known it’d make you a hot shot photographer who had to go away all the time I might’ve kept my mouth shut.”

You smiled, reaching up to flick his forehead. “I’ve taken all your photos for decades” You made a sweeping notion with your hands to all the various magazines scattered around his apartment. “Even when we were kids, I think I earned my little adventures abroad”

Benny gave you a look, one you couldn’t quite place, but he kept your gaze for awhile. A small smile snuck up in the corner of his mouth before he looked down, strawberry blonde strands hiding him from your view.

“Well don’t stay away so long next time, yeah? I missed you.”

[juniorgman187]

Spoiled Rotten (Reid Fic)

Summary: After Spencer went radio silent on Reader while he was in prison, their pride and stubbornness threatens to tear them apart forever. Reader’s forced to mourn the death of who they were and experience the inner turmoil of navigating who they are.

A/N: Y’all are gonna kill me for the ending, but it’s one hell of a way to go.  Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Angst Content Warning: Imprisonment, humiliation, abandonment, anger, frustration, angst, yelling, fighting Word Count: 5.3k Playlist: Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo

Time jumps are indicated by “. . .” or “_ _ _”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

A rather unfortunate predicament we’ve found ourselves in tonight. I can’t say I’ve ever been quite this uncomfortable in my life, yet I’m careful not to speak too soon. Because I know the second Spencer opens his mouth to break the silence we’re currently sitting in, I’ll stand corrected. 

“You’re breathing really hard,” He tells me out of nowhere. 

See, I stand corrected. 

Now that I’ve become hyper aware of my own inhale and exhale, my respiration is just that much more restricted. I’m practically holding my breath at this moment - both from the anticipation of catching this unsub in the act and giving Spencer one less thing to scrutinize about me. 

“I didn’t say you had to stop breathing,” He tacks on as if it would put me any more at ease. Not that if he had explicitly said such a thing, I would’ve. 

Unlike other people, I wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance to throw myself at his feet so he’d like me. But to use that as grounds for his disdain would be foolish. Our rancor went deeper than the basic lack of synergy between us. 

And in the spirit of getting to the bottom of that abyssal pit, I finally asked the question with words that always seemed to hang above but never would form. 

“Why was I the only one denied visitation while you were in prison?” 

It may surprise you to know that it wasn’t always like this between us; we were actually close once, although it is hard to imagine that version of us ever really existing. However, if I think about it hard enough, I can remember with perfect clarity who we used to be. 

. . .

“Jeez, you really don’t like these things do you?” I nudged him playfully before feeling instantly guilty once I witnessed the result of my shove that must’ve been a little too much for all 120 (at most) pounds of him. I’d neglected to remember the strength I held over the lanky Doctor as well as neglected to notice where the trajectory of my push would land him - in the direct line of a circus clown walking the opposite direction as us. This, of course, brought him face to face with the character. Unfortunately, I managed to catch a glimpse of the lens of Spencer’s glasses grazing the white face paint of the caricature. 

After a shudder of mortification and a very brave shriek, Spencer ran to my other side to be as far away from the clown as possible and apparently, as close to me as possible. From a distance, you’d think we were conjoined simply by the way he was glued to me - shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. 

While removing his glasses to clean them off with the hem of his blazer, he answered, “Carnivals? I mean, what’s not to like? What with the loud noises, the heart-attack-inducing food that’s more grease than actual food, or the sheer amount of bacteria harboring on each and every handle, hoop, ball, or button of these ridiculous game booths.” 

“Wow, you really don’t like carnivals.” I should’ve figured. 

“Nope. Never have and probably never will.” 

As someone who looked forward to the fair every summer of her childhood, any aversion to carnivals broke my heart. I had a fondness for them borne in adolescence that I couldn’t quite justify now in my adulthood. 

“But they’re fun!” was the best argument I could muster. The whine in my voice being provoked by the possibility that the higher the shrill of my pitch, the easier he’d be to sway. Turns out, Dr. Reid was not nearly as susceptible to my auditory persuasion as I might’ve thought he was. Just a stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. 

“I’m sorry. I know you brought me here because you love these things, but I just can’t get past the ...” He surveyed the fair, ostensibly against his will, in search of the perfect word to describe our surroundings. “Filth.”

I would’ve argued in the defense of the carnival, mentioning how it’s endearing that the only bathrooms for miles were porta potties, and that the screaming, crying, sticky children galore just added to the attraction, and that there was a hidden charm to the way the roller coasters creaked beyond their means with every ride. 

But to an extent, I agreed. It was rather filthy, and I wasn’t much of a germaphobe myself so to someone like him, this would be hell on earth. 

“Well, you get what you put into it. If you’re willing to overlook some minor imperfections, I really think you’d enjoy this place.” 

Spencer by now had his hands in his pockets and his walking pace had slowed to a complete halt. There was a moment of skepticism, followed by a partially open smile to make way for the laughter that escaped from the disbelief that he felt for letting me break his resolve so easily. 

“Alright then. What do you want to do first, Brat?” 

The nickname I’d earned could be seen as meanspirited, but truly, it was affectionately diminutive. Like all good nicknames are. And like the proclaimed Brat I was, I’d taken him to all my favorite parts of the fair. 

First came the bumper cars to ease him into the experience - as ironic as that sounds. He was reluctant to submerge his gangly body into a mini vehicle, much less one that’d been inhabited by God knows how many people before us, but he pushed his reservations aside when he realized he’d get to slam into my car (safely, of course). 

Secondly, we went on the Carousel, but this was only in preparation for the real ride that I wanted to take him on next - the Swinging Chairs. He’d gotten a little nauseous, from both the repetitive circling and the galvanized chains he had to hold that were definitely held by several others. 

He had no interest in going on the Gravitron - super lame, I know - so we opted for the Ferris Wheel instead. I didn’t mind making this compromise so much after recognizing all that he’d done for my benefit that night. And for his generosity and selflessness, I thought it only fitting to end the night going somewhere so tame he couldn’t possibly have any opposition to it.

The photo booth.

The booth in particular we’d gone to was smaller than an airplane bathroom, if you can imagine that. The bench seat was barely wide enough to fit Spencer, let alone seat the both of us. While he didn’t explicitly make the offer to let me sit on his lap, it was kind of a give in that I’d have some part of my body intertwined around him like stubborn ivy. 

. . .

I still laugh thinking about the tangled mess of limbs we were below what the camera couldn’t capture. It was arguably the furthest extent of contortionist work I wanted to do in my lifetime, and henceforth exceedingly uncomfortable, and yet, I’d never felt more at home than when I was in his arms. 

That night he would tear off the top three photos to keep for himself while I kept the bottom three photos. 

To this day, I have never seen the pictures that he kept, and I’m left to wonder if he had them at all.

Because I still have mine. And they were virtually the only thing keeping me sane throughout his trial and subsequent imprisonment. 

Six Months Ago ...

My eyes were locked on the loose thread of my cardigan that I was rolling between my fingers anxiously. 

“Would you stop that?” Penelope swatted my hand away from my sweater. “You’re making me nervous just looking at you.” She grumbled. 

“Sorry,” I apologized bleakly.

A few seconds later she groaned again, making me think I was still doing something bothersome, but it turned out to be just the opposite. “Ugh, I know that sounded mean, and I hate when I sound mean, but I can feel my forehead creasing from the stress, and watching you fidget is going to give me an ulcer.”

“I wish I could help it. I’m just really worried about him.”

“Well I am, too, but that’s not gonna do us any good right now. All we can do is hope for the best.”

Sometimes Penelope’s overly optimistic view on life was futile and unwelcome, and truthfully, this was one of those times. 

“Penny?” 

As she turned her head, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the lenses of her dark green glasses. I could see my own mournful expression as I asked, “What if he’s found guilty?” 

She started to say something but stopped herself. “Right now, all we need to focus on is his bail. We can worry about a verdict later.” She put her hand on top of mine and shook it briefly to remind me that we were in this together. 

Moments later recess was over and the team came trudging back into the courtroom. 

The sound of the judge clearing her throat and our footsteps on the floor made this feel all too normal. 

How could Spencer’s life be hanging in the balance in such a place as non-intimate as this? 

It frustrated me how casual things felt today and how everyone was acting normally. Prentiss had yet to bat an eye, Rossi’s stoic expression never changed, and Penelope was telling me not to worry. Everyone was acting so aloof. 

My eyes darted to Spencer, who was looking back at us woefully. I couldn’t bear to see him like that any longer, so I kept my head down and stared at my feet after I took my seat. 

Even when I closed my eyes, I was haunted by the vision of him in a suit, just like one he’d wear to work. But instead, he was wearing it for this - this vastly different situation. 

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at him the same in one anymore. I’ll probably just remember this particular look on his face, in this god awful courtroom, during this horribly nauseating circumstance. 

If one thing was for certain, it was that this would all come back to me if I ever laid eyes on him in a suit, and that thought fucking terrified me. 

Because that one thought spiraled into the next: Everything was bound to change after this. Every little thing would change in every little way. 

Spencer’s lawyer, the judge, and the prosecutor were going back and forth for a while, but I tuned it all out because I knew if I had tuned in, I wouldn’t have been able to hold back my arguments. Eventually, though, I heard something I could no longer ignore. 

“If past behavior is the best indicator of future conduct, and I do believe it is, then your client presents a flight risk.”

I stood up immediately, getting a head rush from the speed. I knew what was to follow, so I needed to be on my feet the second I heard it. Maybe so I could run and escape before I had to.

“Bail is denied. The defendant will remain in federal custody pending trial.” 

“Spencer!” I shouted, losing all the composure I’d been trying to maintain. I reached for him as if he was at any capacity to reach back and hold me. God, I needed him to hold me. Hold me like how he did at the carnival. 

Hold me.

Luke held me back as I fought to be near him.

“Let me go!” I screamed, trying to break free of his tight grip. Spencer could only stand and stare, mirroring my own wistful glance. He mouthed something to me that I couldn’t quite make out, but if I knew him at all, he probably said something about not wanting me to worry about him. 

“(Y/n), (y/n) it’s gonna be alright.” JJ reasoned, pulling me into a hug. 

“How long before this case goes to trial?” I heard Prentiss whisper to Spencer’s lawyer. 

“It’s a complicated case. I’d say three months maybe?” 

Immediately, I worked myself out of JJ’s arms and pushed my way through the team, running up to the barrier between us.

“Spence!” I cried out in anguish. 

To the sound of my voice, he glanced over his shoulder sadly. He wasn’t even shocked I’d been able to get so close to him - he seemed to expect it, and for that, he was sad. Because he knew if I was going to be as stubborn as to fight to get to him at this hearing, then I was going to be stubborn enough to reach him in prison, too. And should he find himself behind bars, he knew that I’d get to him one way or another. 

That is if he’d let me. 

“Be strong,” He weakly smiled. ‘For me’ his sad eyes begged in addition. He held my gaze for as long as he possibly could before disappearing into another room. 

As I watched him walk away, I could feel my heart shattering and crumbling into the pit of my stomach. Perhaps that was a premonition, a true gut feeling, telling me something I at the time couldn’t have known and wouldn’t have accepted. 

That was the last time I would see Spencer. 

People always say when something unbelievable happens, it doesn’t feel real, but this? Nothing felt more real and more intense than this. 

There was no other way for me to see this situation but as the first defeat in an endless line of them.

If Spencer was denied bail, what else could happen to him? Could he be found guilty too? Because prior to this, the denial of his bail seemed impossible. He posed no flight risk, but according to the judge, he did. So if what I once thought to be impossible happened, then it could and would happen again.

I knew Spencer was going to be found guilty.

What I didn’t know, though, was how I was going to live with myself from then on.

I didn’t go that day. 

I knew myself too well. So did the others, which is why they didn’t object to my decision not to come to Spencer’s trial. They knew I was better off staying home. Especially, if there was the chance that I might react hysterically again.

I didn’t stay home, though. That part the team never found out about. 

I went to visit Diana instead. A much wiser choice, in my opinion. 

“You know, we’ve been talking so much about Spencer today, but we haven’t talked about you yet,” said Diana. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” I feigned a polite smile. 

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” She tilted her chin downward and gave me that sly grin of hers. 

“No, no, of course not. I know better than to underestimate the Diana Reid.” I quipped, making her smile widen. “I just figured you’d wanna spend your time talking about someone much more interesting.” 

“Oh please, Spencer and I talk about you all the time.”

I perked up from the checker piece I was fiddling with. “You do?”

“Mhm,” She nodded over and over again. “I always knew there was something between you two because you could always talk about each other to me, but for some reason, you could never actually talk to each other.”

For the first time in months, I genuinely laughed and I couldn’t help it. “He makes me nervous! I always feel like he might correct something I say, or tell me that there’s food in my teeth.” 

“You know, now that you mention it, I do remember him saying something about seeing a really big piece of lettuce in your teeth one time.” 

“Diana!” I squealed, pushing the checkerboard at her, pretending to take offense. 

“I really don’t know what you’re so nervous about! I think it would be good if you just talked to him.” 

“It’s, um, it’s not that simple. Not right now, at least.” 

My energy quickly nose-dived and I tried to do my best to hide it from Diana, but it permeated through the rest of the visit. I couldn’t fully enjoy myself after it. 

The team and I all agreed not to let Diana know, especially not with the uncertainty of the case. There was no point riling her up if there was nothing to be worried about. And I could only imagine how I reacted - Diana would be reacting 10 times more hysterically. 

But as much as I hated to say it, I almost would’ve rather been in her position. 

I would give anything to un-know Spencer’s circumstance.

Present Time ...

In this car, there was nowhere for him to run or hide, not like before.

Anytime I so much as entered his gravity by being in the same room, he’d flee the space in the next breath. Granted, he couldn’t really avoid me entirely. We did have to be on the same flight for an extended period of time, but he made that work by letting me choose my spot first, then choosing a spot directly on the opposite side of the jet. 

What a gentleman, huh?

“Kudos to you, by the way. For managing to avoid me for this long. I imagine it’s been as not-easy as it has been incredibly-cowardly.” My words stung as they flowed from my lips as badly as I imagine they seared his already cracked skin. I couldn’t believe that now that I finally had the opportunity to talk to him, I was using it to be petty and passively aggressive. But then again, I could. 

Because after what he put me through, he deserved to feel the full severity of my indignation.

My only wish was that he knew exactly how I had felt when I found out. 

. . .

Icarus. 

He died tragically while using artificial wings, invented by his father, to escape from the Labyrinth. When Icarus flew too close to the sun, it melted the wax that held the wings together, and he fell into the sea.

‘Don’t fly too close to the sun.’ That’s the moral of the story. That’s what Reid was trying to tell me. But I didn’t listen. 

I flew too close. 

I had approached the window with more zeal than this predicament warranted. 

“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n). I’m here to see Spencer Reid, R-E-I-D,” I eagerly spelt his last name with ease as though it were my own last name. 

She’d flipped back and forth between pages, running her index finger up and down the sheet for far too long that it made me worry. Turns out, I had every right to be worried. 

“I don’t see you on the list, ma’am.” 

I was so mindnumbingly dumb that I couldn’t even see how dumb I was being. “Oh no no no, I’m with the FBI. I called earlier and left a message, remember?” 

“Yeah, I remember you,” She smiled politely, giving me the tiniest fragment of hope. “But you’re not on his list.” Only for it to be shattered in an instant. 

I had yet to process or accept this information. “So what does that mean?”

“It means he doesn't wanna see you right now. And frankly, neither do I. Next!” 

“Wait, could you just please check with him? My name is (y/n) -” 

“Ma’am, you are holding up a whole line of people that wanna see their loved ones too, so I suggest you see yourself out before I call security to help see you out.” 

I knew by her tone of the word ‘help’ that meant a prison guard would most likely forcibly remove me from the premises, and the last thing I needed was to feel even more humiliated. 

I got plenty of that when I had to come back to the BAU. 

“You’re not on the list?” Luke seemed genuinely shocked. More so than I was. Above all, I just felt really stupid. 

“I’m sure it was just a mistake.” Stephen reasoned. He was so good at being level-headed. Which normally, I would’ve loved. But right now, it only fueled the fire burning in my chest.

“That’s what I thought at first, too. But later on, she asked him herself, and he said - and I quote, ‘I don’t want to see her. Not now. Not ever.’”

. . .

Those were the words that seared my skin, and he hadn’t even spoken them directly to me to do it. 

The words that did just enough to heal me back to health were, of course, Penelope’s.

“Since you haven’t seen him yet, the rest of us will just wait until you have. It’s only fair that you have your first turn before the rest of us go back for a second time.” 

Back then, it was easy to hold out hope, but the more and more time passed, the more he kept denying my visits. Therefore, the more my hope began to fade. 

It had been weeks since anyone else had seen him before I finally surrendered. Although I had newly-brewing sourness towards Reid, it didn’t feel fair to deny him everyone else’s presence until mine was permitted. 

Luke was the one who volunteered to visit first. And to my dismay, Spencer didn’t fight against it. 

The proof was finally there. Now I could say with absolute certainty: Spencer just didn’t want to see me. 

It was both ironic and utterly frustrating to think about how I’d never gone more than two weeks without seeing him. Even when the BAU got time off after big cases, we’d always spend that time together. The longest we’d spent apart was 12 days. And right when he came back to D.C, we were attached at the hip for the next week, trying to compensate for all that time we were apart. 

Now, look at us. I haven’t said one word to him in half a year. 

If tragedy and comedy could coexist, this would be it. 

“How is he?” I asked Luke as soon as he got back. 

“He’s holding on,” Luke affirmed with confidence. What he said next lacked any of that. “He told me to tell you not to worry about him.” 

Something in me knew it was a lie. “Did he actually say that?”

His lack of an answer was one itself. 

“Did he say anything at all about me?”

“I tried telling him how much you wanted to see him, but he just brushed it off. I’m sorry, (y/n).” 

This became my routine for the months to follow. Every time someone would come back from the prison, I’d ask them if they talked about me, but the answer was always no. After a while, it had gotten to the point where I purposefully started leaving myself out of the loop. At least in that case, it was by my own volition that I was being excluded, not by a predicament being forced on me. 

Not by Spencer. 

“We’re not doing this right now,” Spencer declaration brought me back to the present, where I found him removing himself from both the conversation and the vehicle. When I heard the latch click to open, my hand reflexively flew to my auto-lock to prevent him from leaving. Naturally, he still managed to escape using his door’s button.

If I couldn’t stop him, then I could follow him. 

“Then when will we do this? Huh, Spencer? When? Because anytime I try to talk to you, you run away.” The mere fact that I was speed-walking after him was proof. While he casually strolled down the sidewalk paying me no mind, I tried to be clever and walk down the street so we’d be somewhat side to side. I was tired of staring at his back every time he walked away. I needed to see his face.

For his every stride, I had to take at least three steps. He was gliding through the world so effortlessly as I was trekking my uphill battle. It was quite fitting, though. Further exemplification that, between us, I was fighting harder to preserve the people we used to be, the relationship we used to have. Meanwhile, he couldn’t care less. A stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. Just like he always was. 

As I began to speak, I had to also be conscious of the parked cars along the curb, being careful to weave in and out. 

“For months, you have blatantly ignored me. The entire time you were in prison, you denied my visits. And it’s not like it was a one time thing. I tried to visit you over 100 times while you were in jail! 100 times I got rejected. 100 times I got turned away. 100 times my heart shattered.” 

By now, I was speaking so loudly that I could see household lights within neighboring homes turning on. I hadn’t even realized how far we’d walked down the street and away from our car, but it was the last thing on my mind. 

“Then after you were released, it’s like I never even existed. I had to find out that you were out of there a week later than everyone else because they all assumed you came to me yourself to tell me the good news,” I laughed wryly at my own stupidity. “Do you know how hard it was for me?” 

“Do you know how hard it was for me?” 

It took me a second to register that he was actually engaging with me in this conversation now. But when I looked at his expression, I could see that something within him had snapped. A little piece of me was glad, though. Now I knew for sure that there was some effect I had on him. 

“Hard for you?”

“I know you came to visit me 100 times! Want to know how I know? Because I was there, too! I was there every time a guard came to ask if I wanted to see you. I was there every time I turned you away. And while you got to walk out of those doors every time I did, I was stuck in there, rotting in that cell, thinking about how badly I wanted to see you. How badly I wanted to touch ...” His voice faltered. “To touch you. But I had to protect you!” 

“You do realize in protecting me, you were hurting me in the process.” 

“Because you just don’t know when to leave well enough alone!” His hands tugged at the root of his unruly hair like evidence of the frustration that my stubbornness caused. “You’re such a pain in the ass because you can never cooperate! It’s gotta be your way or no one else’s! ‘Spencer, it has to be this way because I said so. Spencer, you have to let me see you because I said so. Spencer, you have to talk to me because I said so. Spencer, you have to ride this stupid roller coaster because I said so,’” His imitation of my nagging voice would’ve made me laugh before. Now, it was bringing me onto the verge of tears. “Since clearly no one’s told you this before - not everything is about you! You just want it to be because you’re a whiny, little brat! You’re so spoiled rotten that you can’t even see how far down it goes. If you did, you’d know that you’re rotten to the core and that nothing will ever satisfy you. Especially me.”

His words had done more than sear me. They pierced me. They ripped me. They destroyed me. When he called me Brat, I thought it was endearing. Now, looking back, I realize - no, that’s just how little he thought of me. 

As I came to the conclusion, I stopped dead in my tracks on the pavement. 

I was done chasing Spencer.

His face had fallen from its anger, indicating he was apologetic, but I was beyond accepting his sorry excuses anymore. I couldn’t stand to look at him so I looked behind me to find our car at least a football field away. I guess in many ways, I’d gone the whole nine yards. 

“This is what you wanted right?” I turned back to him momentarily. My voice scared me how calm it was because, inside, I was boiling with rage. “Well, here you go, Spence. Have all the fucking space you want.” 

It was usually me watching his back while he walked away, and now, he was watching mine. 

“(Y/n), wait!” 

And for the briefest second, it actually felt good to be the first one to leave. 

I was free. 

_ _ _

To my dismay and relief, when I walked into work the next morning, he wasn’t there. I would’ve looked for him with more than a cursory glance except I was stuck on looking at something strange in the bullpen that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But as I walked further in, a blaring siren went off in my head. 

Spencer’s desk is completely empty. 

I instantly sorted through my purse for my phone to reach Prentiss when I noticed something more. 

I had been desperate to cling onto any notion that he still loved me, and there it was, just sitting on his desk. Proof that the man I loved was still in there somewhere.

The top three pictures from the carnival photo booth.

I laughed, as I always did, thinking about how much we had to exert ourselves to be positioned in a semi-adequate way. In the next wave, I felt profoundly empty. He had kept the pictures all these years, and now that I finally get to see them, he’s left me.

As I brought my hand to my face to clear the tears pooling at my lower lashes, I saw that my finger had an ink smear on the pad of it. There was nowhere else I could’ve obtained it except for if there was writing on the back of the photos. 

What I read when I turned it over was as follows. 

I want to be this guy for you again, (y/n). I just don’t know how. 

I just don’t know if I can.

No matter how much I’ve changed, one thing’s still the same.

I love you. 

I should’ve focused on the message, but all that I could focus on was that if I managed to smear the ink, that meant it was fresh, written just now. 

He was still here. 

I pocketed the photos and abandoned my purse, only carrying with me the phone that I forgot to use to dial Prentiss. After a moment’s indecision, I figured that taking the stairs would be faster than the elevator, and I bounded down the steps without hesitation. 

“Spencer!” I yelled into the parking structure when I reached the ground floor. The sound of me bursting through the door caught the attention of Anderson, who was getting out of his car. 

“I just saw him leave.” Anderson threw his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the exit. I knew, even in my state of mind, there was no feasible reality where I could reach him on foot. I had to call him. 

I pleaded to myself for him to pick up with every ring of my phone. 

“(Y/n),” He said like a statement instead of a question. Again, he’d anticipated I’d do this. He probably picked it up not even having to look at the caller ID but knowing it was me and no one else. 

“I don’t need you to be the guy you were before, Spencer. I just need you to bend a little bit. I know we’re both stubborn people, but if we can just find a halfway point-”

“(Y/n), (y/n),” He was settling me and the sentences that were coming out of my mouth at 100 mph. 

“I’ll bend if you bend.” I promised. 

The static of the call filled my ears until his voice finally did.

“For everyone else, I bend ... for you, I break.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

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[luimagines]

You React to Him getting Sick/Injured Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

The final installment of this prompt!

It will include Sky, Time and Twilight.

Content under the cut!

Sky

You were having an ok day.

It could have been better.

It could have been worse.

Very mediocre all around.

You looked around and saw how your friends were handling the change of scenery. It had happened in the middle of the night when most of the group was asleep. You had considered it a more merciful shift than what usually happens.

But it does always mess with the internal clocks of the groups. You never seem to shift from night to night. It’s always night to middle of the day. 

And middle of the day usually brings trouble.

But since the group was asleep, it takes a lot of energy to get up and deal with whatever shenanigans the day brings.

You yawned and tried to rub the last of the sleep from your eyes. “Anyone know where we are?”

“Not a clue.” Wild speaks up from beside you and puts his sheikah slate back in its holster.

“Anyone see Sky?” You hear someone ask and you look around your surroundings in search of your friend.

���Nope.” You reply and stand up, stretching your arms over your head.

“I don’t see Sky either.” Hyrule comes to the middle of the group with a slightly concerned look on his face. “Where is he?”

“He’s not with us?” Warrior gets up, a little concerned and on verge of frantic pacing.

“Wasn’t it his watch?” You ask and take your first step to put away your bed roll.

“No. It was mine.” Wind answers. “But Sky was with us when we shifted.”

“Then where is he?” 

“Here. Help.” You hear Sky’s voice come from above you and snap your head in his direction.

“Sky. I didn’t think you’d take your nickname so seriously.” You say and squint against the sunlight. It takes a while to see him but you take a step to the side and see him more clearly.

He’s stuck in a tree, arms and legs all snagged by a branch and holding him in place. “Get me out of here please.”

“Sky did you even manage that?” Four snickers slightly into his hand. “Weren’t you on the ground with the rest of us?”

“Believe it or not-” Sky glares. “-I was. and I don’t know how I got up here. I only know that this hurts and I can’t move. I’m pretty sure that all the blood is being cut off from my limbs. Get me down.”

“I got you. Hold on.” Wild grins and climbs up the tree with the same grace as a cat. He places himself on the a nearby branch next to Sky’s legs and chops away the tangling twigs with one of his sheikah swords.

“Is there anyway we can put like a tarp or something under him so he doesn’t just hit the ground?” You ask in a panic. 

No one was doing anything, content to watch Wild hack away at the tree to free your friend.

“That’s not a bad idea.” Twilight shrugs and looks around your collective supplies. “Anyone have anything we can use?”

“Wild slow down, you might hurt him too!” You cry out again but he’s too focused on his mission to get Sky out to even notice that you’re speaking to him.

He frees up both of Sky’s legs in record time, quickly moving to his arm.

The debris collects right under them and lands without much fanfare.

But Sky were to just fall, he’d land right on top of them and it’s not an idea you’d like to entertain.

You dash under them and clean them up to the best of your ability while Twilight and Time look for something to break Sky’s fall.

Wild is working to fast for any of your to keep up and gravity does its part in tearing at the branches that aren’t strong enough to hold Sky up on their own.

He falls.

You dodge out of the way so Sky doesn’t land on you and barely succeed in avoiding the branches you moving out of the way. Sky however, isn’t so fortunate.

He tries to jump out of the way but trips over half of them. He gets up with a nasty gash on his face and a torn sleeve on his left side.

You hiss and pull him out from the pile, just time to avoid Wild as he jumps out of the tree next to you.

“Got him!”

“I can see that!” You growl and pull Sky away to start cleaning him up.

“Thanks guys. I feel like there’s bugs crawling under my skin but I’m glad to not be there any more than I had to be.” Sky smiles and kicks his feet a few times. He shakes his hands a few time for good measure as well and gradually begins to feel the blood move away and back to as it should be.

“You shouldn’t have been in there at all.” You  scold and take out your personal medkit. “How did that happen?”

“How should I know? I woke up like that.”

“Sleep walking but he climb a tree instead.” Legend yawns and pats Sky’s head. “Gets the best of it.”

“I think you need to go back to sleep.” Sky smiles and moves his hand away from him.

“Whatever.”

“Sleepy Legend is best Legend.” You smirk and pull Sky’s face close to you with your hand to clean him up even more. “I can’t believe you got stuck in a tree.”

“I like to be up in the sky but not like that.” Sky snorts and lets you tend to him.

Time

You couldn’t believe what you had just witnessed. 

Despite the cool and calm nature Time like to put off, you had seen him slip down a hill and roll right into a pricker-bush.  With all calm demeanor lost, Time cursed in the loudest voice you had ever heard from him.

It had scared so much that you jumped and dropped your journal in the process.

You stood there staring at the man as he pull himself away from the bush and brush off all the thorns that he could reach. Curses kept falling from his mouth left and right but he at least had the decency to lower his volume and say them under his breath.

You took a breath to unfreeze yourself and stepped forward. “You ok Old Man?”

“I’m fine.” He snapped through gritted teeth. 

“Ok.”

Time blinked for a second and sighed. Responding to you again in a softer voice. “I’m fine, really. Just.... inconvenienced.”

“If you say so.” You help to his feet and watch his back as he begin to walk away.

At first, it seemed like that was it.

A bit out of character but nothing to bat an eye at. Until Time started to look a little green in the face and had started sweating bullets.

“Time.” Warrior called out with a concerned wobble to his voice. “Are you ok? You don’t look so good.”

“Admittedly, I don’t feel so good.” He grunts and wipes his hands over his face.

“What happened?” Sky takes out a cloth to hand it over.

“He fell in a bush.” You explain.

“What did look like?” Four asks you, eyebrows furrowed and face deadly serious.

“Brown and dusty green with red tipped thorns.” 

“Time.” Four turns. “You’ve been poisoned.”

“Poisoned?!” You yell.

“It’s all mild, but we’re done for today.” Four sigh. “It won’t kill him but it’s going to get worse before it gets any better.”

“I’m fine.” Time winces slightly and shakes his head. “I can keep going.”

“For like five more minutes.” 

As if on cue, Time folds over himself and spins away from the group to vomit.

Any one that was close to him instinctually takes step back and recoils from the scene.

“Worse.” Four reiterates. “Before he’s better.”

Twilight takes a step by Time’s side and rubs small circles on what he can reach on Time’s back. “We’re going to need to find a spot to set up camp.”

“I’ll do it.” Sky raises a hand.

“I’ll go with you.” Warrior places a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s make this quick.”

“Agreed.”

“Wild.” You grimace as Time continues to dry heave and cough out enough sick to probably be part of last night’s dinner as well. “I don’t Time will be able to handle any food until this passes. Do you have anything that would pass for tea or maybe a light broth?”

“I think I can whip something up.” He nods and begin to look through his slate.

You make your way next to Twilight and Time and side step away from the dibbling bile. You place you hand on the back of Time’s neck and wince at the steady growing temperature. “This is going to be bad.”

“Come on Time. Let’s get you to somewhere out of the sun.” Twilight hums and begins to pull and lead Time away from the others, heading off in the vague direction that Sky and Warrior disappeared to. You follow and hook your arm around Time’s when you see he’s barely able to hold himself up anymore.

“Bad indeed.”

It’s a long night to say the least.

Twilight

You thought you had seen enough monsters to last you the next fifty lifetimes.

You were sick and tired of these guys and how they seemed to come from an never ending source.

Your sword clashed against the shield of an annoying lizalfos and it had to audacity to strike you back and not die.

“For the love of-” You bite back a curse and continue hacking away what you can at the beast. “Why. Don’t. You. Die!”

“Aim better than!” You hear Legend shout from across the battle field.

“Legend! So help me! I will cut you!” You shout back and finalize the beast in front of you by cutting off its head.

“You won’t, you love me.” 

“I’ll throw something at your head then.” You spit and spin around to slash at the bokoblin that tried to sneak up on you. It doesn’t put up much of a fight and falls within seconds.

There’s a growl from behind you and you spin around to fight off the next attacker. It’s a huge moblin and you doubt for a split second that you can successfully block the upcoming attack. 

But you don’t have to.

Wolfie comes up from the side and jumps on it, latching and sinking its teeth into the forearm of the monster, ripping its arc away from you. You grin and stab it in the opposite direction, keeping its attention on you instead of your wolf companion as he goes to help someone else.

That’s the plan anyway.

A separate monster, a stalfos, jumps and lands on your friend and sends the poor thing flying across the field with a crack.

“Wolfie!” You scream and run after him, ditching the monsters around you.

You can vaguely hear that Warrior takes over the monsters you’ve left behind and you see Wild run up with you toward your friend.

Wolfie tries to get back up onto his feet but he’s whining and not willing to put any weight on his front paw. There’s a patch on his fur that’s beginning to turn red and you think that there’s a bit of bone peaking out.

“Oh this is bad.” You kneel next to him and try your hardest to shift the fur gently.

Wolfie growls and even snaps at your hands as you try to help and get a bigger picture of what had happened to him.

“Wolfie, stop moving.” You whine and try to get him to sit back down. “We’re going to have to put your bones back in place, before we can even think about healing you.”

“Why do you think you can get away with stuff like this?” Wild scolds and kneels next to you, helping you place pressure on the rib. “You can’t do anything to me at this point.”

Wolfie growls again, trying to snap at your fingers but Wild grabs his snout and holds him down.

“What on earth are you two doing?” You hear Wind shout.

“Wolfie is hurt! We’re trying to help him!” You yell and place both of your palms on top of the bone, putting your knee on Wolfie’s abdomen to try and keep him in place. Wolfie for his part won’t stop squirming and you’re worried that you’re actually going to hurt him more if he doesn’t sit still.

“Wolfie. Stop being stupid.” Wild growls. “We’ll let you go in a minute. just stay still.”

Somehow he listens to your friend and stays still long enough for you to pop the bone back inside and shift it back into place. Woflie lets out a pain howl but you and Wild both let go of him when it’s safe to do so, jumping away from his teeth and personal space.

You’re quick to run over to where Epona holds your bag. You’re holding on to the hope that Wild will keep Wolfie there for a minute longer with his presence alone. You pull out a potion and run back, dashing and maneuvering around the battle field and left over monsters.

You bring out a bowl as well and pour the potion inside.

You place it on the ground by where Wolfie and Wild were having a stand off.

“Here, Wolfie. Come here boy.” You whistle and coo, trying to call your canine friend over to the potion. 

Wild sends Wolfie what can only be called a smug look and he watches as the wolf limbs and whines his way over to hesitantly lick the contents of the bowl.

You sigh and begin to pet the friendly beast, trying to calm him as he drinks.

“Are you two just going to stand there?” Time shouts and he delfects another around of slashes.

You growl and stop petting Wolfie for a second. “You know what Old Man, I think I will! Fight your own monsters! These aren’t even from my time!” 

“Good job.” Wild raises an eyebrow. “Now we’re all going to pay for it.”

“Not my problem. Wolfie probably just saved my life, I owe him this much.”

Wolfie pauses from drinking your potion and then licks your face instead.

You smile and push him away gently, trying to guide him back to the bowl to drink what’s left over. “One good turn deserves another, don’t you think? Drink up Wolfie, we’ll all be ok.”

Wolfie seems to nod at your words and drinks up the last of it.

Wild takes out his bow and strikes at whatever monsters try to get close.

You stay by Wolfie side and dread the talk you know you’re going to get from Time when this is over. Maybe Wolfie will bail you out again, who knows?

[lazarettta]

Misthios III

Characters (Mother Miranda, Alcina Dimitrescu, Reader)

Word count (2k)

Rating (T)

Warning (straight zooted, none)

Countess Dimitrescu takes you home.

Any mistakes you find, blame it on the herbs.

Only taking a few steps from your holding cell, you were startled with what awaited you.

You weren't sure what to expect when you were about to meet Lady Dimitrescu but what you got wasn't on the top of your list; her inhuman beauty or her height. She was taller than tall and for a split second you actually gawked at the woman before remembering yourself and thankfully your jaw snapped shut inaudibly but she'd already caught you.

“This is (Y/n), take her to your castle and keep her there until I call.” You frowned at her words, you weren't some goddamn pet to keep and she had another thing coming if she thought that you were just going to sit around twiddling your thumbs. Miranda stopped next to the tall woman near the door and a small torch light, “Not a scratch, Alcina.”

“Of course, Mother Miranda.” She seemed amused and she clearly wasn't as human as she portrayed herself to be. You'd place a bet wagering that she is one of the myths you haven't yet tracked down...but which one?

Miranda didn't spare you another glance and she was gone within a blink of an eye, leaving you two alone, you cleared your throat bringing the woman's honey eyes to you again. “But you will refer to me as lady Dimitrescu.”

Keeping up with Alcina's long strides down the dreary pathway wasn't an easy feature especially given that the hallway itself was narrow and you didn't really have any interest in touching the walls. They were wet but it did not look or smell like water. Eventually the woman came to a stop, right in front of an iron door that turned out to be an elevator shaft—a bit like the ones used when mining was still a thing.

Prison cells in some abandoned underground mining tunnels, Miranda? Always so dark and mysterious...

The silence between you both was thick and a bit awkward and you could feel her caution and curiosity rolling off of her in waves and you knew that she was occasionally glancing at you because you were doing the same thing while you both waited for the elevator shaft to come down. This place just continued to get more and more curious—what other wonders was this village in the mountains hiding away from the rest of the world? But you were quick to chastise yourself for the thought, curiosity always killed the cat, (Y/n)...

“Yes,” her voice was low and deep this time opposed to the thunderous tone she was using earlier, “but satisfaction brought it back.”

You hadn't been aware that you spoke out loud. Having allowed yourself to be distracted with your thoughts that you failed to take notice of how much more observant the other woman became towards you the minute you both loaded onto the old shaft. Though the old thing hardly made a sound under lady Dimitrescu's weight despite the fact that in order to enter she had to duck a little for herself and her large brimmed hat.

Shoving your hands in your pocket, you turned slightly to look up at her making sure to keep your eyes above those pearls wrapped around her pale neck and accenting that decolletage—no doubt purposely done. “Ah, I haven't had that recited back to me in a very long time.”’

“Then you’re not keeping the right company.”

Your mouth twitched around a smile before you schooled it away, “That would be true if I actually had any friends...or family.”

Lady Dimitrescu raised an eyebrow, not that you’d see it because of her hat casting a shadow over a majority of her face, “Handsome thing like you without friends or family? Doubtful. Surely you have someone waiting for you? You seem like the type to have a maiden or two at your feet.”

This time you couldn’t push back your smile, you knew that she was fishing for some answers about your character—and no doubt trying to figure out why Miranda thought you were special enough to be placed under her word of protection, as if you actually needed it.

But that was all fine because you’d do the same thing, in fact you already were but you’d give her something—an inevitable piece of information that will come to light soon enough. She was already suspicious so it really was just a matter of you beating her to the punchline.

“Nope, none of the above. People just have this pesky little habit of dying on me.”

She chuckled, low and deep and you felt it a bit (and fuck was this the longest elevator ride you’ve ever been on), “Oh I know of that nuisance all too well myself.”

“Do you now?”

“Oh quite dear.” There was a bit of a sinister flare to her tone behind that innocent smile and shrug she tried to sell you. “One could even say it's my favorite pastime.”

And right as you were about to press another question the shaft came to a screeching halt, oh…how convenient. You swore you saw Lady Dimitrescu outright grinning before she ducked out ahead of you, if you didn’t know better you’d say she read your mind.

The moment you stepped out of the shaft and through the opening of the alcove, you were severely unprepared for the harsh winter wind or how well into the evening it’s become and the conversation earlier was placed on the backburner.

Less than two hundred feet away there was a stagecoach waiting with four black horses attached. The stagecoach was all black with gold trimmings, a style fit for royalty—you’ve seen enough of them in your lifetime to know.

There was a young man half frozen next to it as he waited for Lady Dimitrescu’s approach, nearly stuttering out all of his teeth to greet her but she hardly paid him any attention, gracefully ducking inside. The young man gawked at you as you entered the coach behind his employer but was quick to close the door after you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, the tips of your ears heating up when you had to brush past her crossed legs to sit on the bench across from her and she made no effort to move, only watching you while smoking from her cigarette stick.

The stagecoach had a bigger interior than the exterior let on, accommodating the dark haired beauty perfectly. Though she was sitting at a sideways angle she seemed very comfortable and she was easily dumping the ashes outside of the cracked window.

“Is there anyway to get my things back…it had a majority of my clothes in there.” Or get back to your camp—it was probably ruined by now, either by wild animals or nature itself.

“We will accommodate you at the castle.” Her gaze was on you again but you were busy looking out of the window down at the village, now that it was nightfall everyone had their lights on—it was bigger than what you expected. “I don’t suppose you like dresses?”

~~

As you suspected, the inside of her castle was just as massive and beautiful in it's antiquity as it was on the outside. The estate was kept in pristine condition and you were honestly impressed with what you saw. But it was really warm though not uncomfortably so. You two had barely stepped into the lobby of her castle with you mostly admiring how easily she was able to bend at the waist without batting an eye to get through a door that wasn't custom sized for her. She seemed used to it but you wondered why she didn't correct the doors.

“Hmm. Nice castle but why is it so warm? I might have to sleep with a window open.” you joked, still taking in everything and you had yet to notice how your words affected your host.

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned on you so fast you actually did run into the taller woman. Your entire face was lost in a world of firm fluffiness and your senses were filled with the very essence of Lady Dimitrescu. Though before you could scramble away with an apology on the tip of your tongue, Lady Dimitrescu was moving before you and she had reached down and she fisted the back of your parka and kept you right where you were, close and trapped.

You were forced to look up at her between her bust, or let them suffocate you, and she was already looking down at you with a hard look but you had no idea what the hell you did.

“You open a window in my castle and you won't be sleeping at all, guest to Mother Miranda be damned.” she snarled, her tone steely and you had no choice but to listen—even if she didn’t have you in a death grip, “The windows are off limits. Do not open them. Do not touch them. Are we clear?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, still struggling against her unyielding hold and against your rising temper, “What the—”

“Do you understand?” she tightened her grip on the back of your clothing, forcing the collar of every layer you wore to constrict around your throat at an alarming fast rate.

“Understood.” you gritted, your blunt nails digging her soft flesh beneath your hands that was her stomach but you doubted that your nails were as deadly as hers. You didn't bother to tell her that it was a joke and you were quick to straighten yourself out as you caught your balance when she released you with a bit of a pull against your parka forcing you away from her. You cursed her in your native tongue but her attentions were now focused on something to your left—no, on someone.

“Ah, good! Servant, come here,” a young girl no older than twenty quickly came over, bowing her head awkwardly.

“Y-yes Lady Dimitrescu, how may I serve—”

Alcina cut in quickly as if she had better things to do, and she did, “You're not serving me tonight, girl. This (Y/n). She will be staying in the guest room to the left of the wine room and you will be tending to her every need for the duration of her stay, and I do mean her every need.” though her tone was cheerful there was an undertone of a threat if her instructions went under-performed. Alcina winked at you as she hadn't almost choked you out in the middle of her foyer.

“Yes ma'am, I understand.”

The maiden nearly nodded her head from her shoulders. She was so terrified. If you were blind you would've assumed it was her first day, but a good portion of you knew that it was something else—you remembered quite well how Miranda preferred to run her own kingdom and you weren't surprised that this woman had similar tastes.

“Keep your pleasantries. Just show me to my room and leave me before I really lose my fucking temper.” you snarled at both of them, namely the Lady of the castle. You were able to physically restrain yourself from starting a brawl with this woman but your mouth has almost always gotten you into more than half the situations that left marks all over your body.

Lady Dimitrescu looked back to you, tilting her head back slightly as if she was just finally taking notice of how hard you were glaring at her. She did not know why as it could've been for a number of things that have happened within the last five minutes.

Alcina's eyes shifted from you to the trembling maiden between the two of you, then back to you again, “Are we going to have an issue, (Y/n)?” and clearly misunderstanding the reason for your ire.

You scoffed knowing when to pick your battles and how she handles her staff was not one of them. But how she handled you was, “Manhandle me again and we will.”

The maiden gasped at your audacity and flinched sharply when Alcina chuckled while setting her hand on her hip. She found more and more curious and she was starting to see why Miranda liked you so much before. There was a spirit that burned inside of you—strong and rattling in its cage, she could see it in your eyes even as you restrained yourself.

The maiden opened her eyes when she didn't feel the whoosh of Lady Dimitrescu slapping you through the wall, she was surprised to see you still standing there alive. The maiden looked at you in awe before bowing her head, “P-please follow me, ma'am.”

Alcina still stood there with her hand on her hip and another one of her cigarettes was lit, watching you follow the little maiden through one of the side doors when a familiar buzzing made itself known until Bela was standing next to her, snuggled close as she wiped the blood from her mouth with the sleeve of her black shift. It needed to be washed anyway.

“Mother, who is that? Another meal?”

“No,” Alcina answered softly, reaching down with her free hand to push back Bela's hood so she could comb out a few tangles in her eldest daughter's blonde hair, “But she is very interesting, isn't she?”

“Yes, but who is she?” Bela asked again, this time looking up at Alcina.

“Perhaps a friend, or foe, that has yet to reveal itself. But for now, go and collect your sisters dear and meet me in my study...I wish to talk to them about something more pressing.”

Bela was gone in an instant, the synchronized buzzing of dozens of blowflies disappearing quickly leaving Alcina alone with her thoughts.

Here is a link to the Ao3 version of this story...if it's easier than tumblr...

[daydream-believin]

What About the Smaller Picture (2)

Summary: Merlin knows best. And what he feels is best for you and Douxie right now is to sit around and wait for him to come back from New Jersey, Merlin-knows-when. (2) Your first day in Arcadia, it sure is something. (1) - (3)

Warnings: swearing, proofing is for nerds

Word Count: 2211

a/n: i hope to be able to make you feel the awkwardness radiating off of every part of this series

Hisirdoux’s special welcome tour didn’t exactly do its job of making you feel welcome. You supposed that was more of a problem with you than the town. It definitely wasn’t of any fault of Hisirdoux’s. If anything, he was being a little too warm. It almost felt fake.

People appeared to like Hisirdoux. All across town, he would greet friends, introduce you to them. Kinda like he was showing you off. You did not know what for. He barely knew you, yet he talked about you like you were an old friend returned to him. Like he was proud of you or something. You supposed he was establishing a cover story. And you weren’t sure why. Why not just say you were new in town? What tracks was he trying to cover here.

You stopped paying too much attention to what Hisirdoux was telling others about you. He was telling them that he cared for you. That he missed you. It was a lie, sure. But just hearing those words come out of someone else’s mouth were making you melt. It had been so long that it was hard for you to recall the last time a person said such nice things about you. That was sad. You supposed the blush on your face did good to add to the story he was telling. Made it more believable. You felt really pathetic that this guy you barely knew lying through his teeth about you was actually making you blush as if it was real. As if anyone really thought those nice things he said about you in real life. Man that’s really sad. Moving on.

The town itself looked a little rough. Like it had seen better days. It was apparently a hub of magic, so it probably had. A lot of the damage you saw looked very recent though. That made sense. The whole reason you wound up here was because you befriended a girl traveling with a pack of trolls migrating from this very town. When asked why they were migrating, Claire, the girl, had told you that their home had been destroyed in a recent battle. “The Eternal Night” they called the battle. You, of course, knew about such eternal night. You had heard of the prophecy, you just didn’t expect it to happen in your lifetime. And you may had freaked out just a tad when it came along earlier that month, the unexpected solar eclipse confusing you and your studies before you figured out what was happening. However, you had assumed the battle took place underground, you know, cause trolls. The town you explored with Hisirdoux told a different story. At one point you saw a troll walking by, under an umbrella, following a red-headed human woman with a baby in her arms. And the locals didn’t seem to care. No one batted an eye. Strange town.

What really baffled you though was what happened later in the day, back at the bookstore, when you cast a simple spell. Nothing too flashy, just a little levitation on a book Hisirdoux had sent you to find up on a high shelf you couldn’t reach. When he saw you, Doux made a really panicked gasping sound. He threw himself in front of you, shielding you from the people who were not even there, startling you, and throwing off your focus. The book landed on both of you with a thunk.

“You can’t do that,” his voice was hushed despite you two being the only ones in the shop at the moment, “It’s business hours. The mortals don’t know about wizards and they shouldn’t see magic,” he stressed.

“But- uh,, They look just fine with the trolls?” Confusion was written across your face.

“That’s different. It’s different. Look, the situation is weird, okay,” He made a little X with his hands. “But I can’t have you casting spells around the shop. Or in public, period. The mortals can’t see anything, okay?”

“Okay, okay. My bad. I won’t do it again- Promise.” Your face was hot with embarrassment. This was your fault for assuming. Fuck, he probably thinks you’re a wild card now or something. Not a good start to your professional life here. Or your relationship with this Adonis who’s reprimanding you.

“While there are some other wizards around town that I’ll introduce you to tonight, to stay safe, generally just keep the magic for when we’re alone and out of sight.”

“Oh, yeah, uh- Okay”

He grinned. Suddenly, he leaned in, catching you off guard. “It can be a special thing,” His voice was even softer as he was so close to you, “just between the two of us.”

Oh. So he meant when just You and Him were alone and out of sight. Ooookaaaayyyy. He winked to you as he separated himself from your side, and went off to the back of the store to continue unpacking a shipment he had just got in. He left you there, clutching that damn book to your chest, face now hotter than before, if that was even possible at all. Oh no.

Fuck, it was fucking day one. Day one! Day fucking one and you were developing a crush. NOPE. This was not something you were going to do. Uh-uh. Nein. There was no fucking time for this. Well, you didn’t really know how much time you had with Merlin and his addiction to being perceived as mysterious or whatever the hell was wrong with that asshole you worked for now, but the point is you did not have time for this! Hisirdoux was too much. Merlin really should have had the decency to warn you that he was hot. This wasn’t fair. Not only was Doux beautiful, but he was a touchy person. You weren’t going to stand a chance.

The thing is you had been sooo worried about how you and Hisirdoux were going to get along, you even brought up the concern to Merlin. To be honest, you had thought the old wizard to just be annoyed at your worrying, and that’s why he reassured you it’d all be fine. That you and Hisirdoux would get along swimmingly or whatever just get out of my hair kid. You were so afraid Hisirdoux would have to warm up to you like a cat being introduced to a new kitten. Afraid that he’d resent you since you were technically Merlin’s apprentice too now in a sense. And he was used to being number one, no one else to compete with for Merlin’s sparse pride since Morgana went astray. Merlin assured you Hisirdoux was very friendly. But like, would it kill the geezer to give you a warning that he’d be too friendly.

While you were having your little crisis, Douxie was humming along to the song in his head, stacking up the new books onto a display, trying his absolute dilly darndest not to think about what just happened. What he did. That wasn’t weird, right? Oh fuzzbuckets, he did something weird. He was just so used to playing up the flirty persona he’d developed he hadn’t even stopped to think about if he’d be making you uncomfortable. And he really wanted you to be comfortable. Plus, he felt pretty guilty he had to stop your tour around town to go accept a shipment he forgot. Strangely, he was really concerned about the impression he was giving you. Caring about what another person thought of him was not very in character for him. Not counting Merlin, of course. He was going to have to make this up to you. He really needed you to think he was cool. For professional reasons, of course. Definitely.

~ ~ ~

“SO! I recommend the steak because it’s the least disgusting thing on the menu.”

You gaped at the wizard sitting across from you in this sticky booth, peeping your head over the kitschy French-themed menu you held. He had no menu. In fact he refused to even touch it. Great. What did he know.

“I- What do mean ‘least disgusting’, Casperan.” You were almost afraid to ask.

“I mean that kitchen is filthy and the steak is your best bet for something edible.”

“Why. Why would you bring me here if the food is terrible.”

You were always weary of greasy chain restaurants, but you had expected this one to be at least a little decent, since it was a smaller Cali chain and Hisirdoux had fucking brought you to it your first day in the town. Surely he was kidding.

“I just wanted to show you where I worked nights. So you’d be able to find me easier if there’s any trouble. Besides, you can’t say you’ve been to California if you haven’t had Mr. Benoit’s. It’s like In-N-Out burger. Remind me to take you to an In-N-Out burger later this week.”

You blinked. “Oh – uh, okay.”

Hisirdoux continued, “I can’t have my phone turned on during my shifts so you’ll have to come get me directly if it’s a big enough problem. Make up an emergency. Are you good at improve?”

You looked around the restaurant, getting a feel for its layout, taking notice of where the kitchen and back doors were located, making mental notes of all exits. “Ah, well, I’m good at lying, if that’s what you’re asking…”

“Good enough.”

The waiter came to take your orders. Hisirdoux shared an inside joke with him. It should have been awkward, them laughing away at something you didn’t understand why you sat there quietly, but you were a little too fixated on how pretty Hisirdoux looked when he laughed. It was mesmerizing. The waiter took your order. You got the steak.

~ ~ ~

It was very important for you to establish connections in Arcadia’s wizard underground. Or at least that’s what Hisirdoux thought. You weren’t particularly a social butterfly. It’s not that you didn’t like having a large group of friends or anything, you just never really had a reason to have one. And Doux was hell bent on introducing you to every person in this town in one day apparently. You had met twenty-three wizards in counting over the last hour being shepherded through this off-brand apple store. You had so far learned no names. How did he expect you to remember these peoples names.  Scratch that. You knew one name. Zoe. Just because she was very annoyed at your and Hisirdoux’s presence in her workplace, and was very vocal about it. That being said, she didn’t make any real effort to get you to leave. You wished she would though. You were getting overwhelmed. Today had been incredibly stressful, with a lot of information to take in, and with only a brief rest when Doux was handling things at the bookstore. You wanted to go home. Geez, home. You realized that Hisirdoux had yet to show you home. Where was home.

You tugged on his hand to grab his attention. “Hey, I’m- uh – tired? Really tired. Can - can we go home?”

“OH. Yes! Home. Right away. Yes.”

Douxie possibly maybe had been avoiding home all day. It just, it wasn’t much. He had no idea how you were going to react. His space was small already without adding another person to it. Of course, it wasn’t any smaller than any of the one-room cottages that entire families used to share, but it was tiny for modern standards. Okay to be frank it was a back room. Not technically even an actual apartment. But it was his home. And now it was your home too.

Okay, so Hisirdoux lived in his bookstore. What was probably supposed to be a break room was his entire living space. It was… cozy. You set the backpack that carried everything you owned down on the floor and headed for the lumpy plaid sofa. It was nice and old, like a sofa should be. The plaid pattern covered any stains that might have been there. Hisirdoux sat down next to you, starting to fiddle with his hands. You looked around, took it all in. The was a kitchenette off to one side, a bed to the other side. The sofa was in the sort of middle ground. Notably, there was no table, barely any counter space, and various teacups on the coffee table, so it was a safe bet that he just ordered take out every night and ate it on the sofa. The twin bed was on the ground, and the quilts that covered it had visible holes. It struck you that this bed was the only one in the room. The one room.

“So I’ll take the sofa, until we get you a bed. I’ll, uh, figure something out with the space. We can put up curtains or something.” It was if he had read your mind.

You nodded, unsure of anything to add. This was,,,, going to be fun. A challenge. A test to see how long you can act normal while living in extremely close quarters with a funny medieval supermodel. Merlin help you. Something moved in the corner of your eye. You gasped.

“Kitty!”

“Oh, that’s Archie.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Talking kitty. How bout that.

[apocalypseornaw]

Open My Eyes

Apocalyptic AU.

Dean gets increasingly jealous of your bond with Gadreel and things come to a head after a misunderstanding on a run

Dean had known you for years. Long before the dead started to rise and the world as it was previously known came crashing down. He knew you inside and out, you were one of his best friends. Maybe that was why it was bothering him so deeply to see you get closer with someone who was fairly new to your group. Gadreel had come in with the Banes twins. They’d gone through Bobby’s usual line of questions without missing a beat and had fit in smoothly enough with everyone else. That had been nearly six months ago which was a lifetime nowadays.

He tried to get you out of his head as he walked across the field that stretched between the outer fence and inner fence of the compound all of you now called home. It’d started life as a high school but with some hard work and a lot of blood, sweat and tears it was now a suitable place to survive the new world. Unfortunately before he could reach the sanctuary of the building where Bobby, Sam and Jody were waiting to talk about the new run that needed to happen he heard the all too familiar sound of your laugh.

He turned and found a small smile working its way onto his face when he saw you walking with Alicia and Max. You had your arm around Alicia’s shoulder and was laughing at something Max had said. He started to call your name but before he could he heard it called from a different direction and felt his mood immediately sour when you pulled your arm from Alicia to greet Gadreel as he made it to the three of you. He watched you pull the other man down to whisper something in his ear and felt anger flick at his mind. Especially when Gadreel laughed then whispered something back to you. Dean spun on his heel, he didn’t need to see any more.

------

The door to the meeting room slammed open but luckily for the three people sitting around the table it took a lot more than that to rattle their nerves. Bobby barely glanced up from the map “Nice of you to join us Dean now how about leaving the damn door on the hinges?”

Sam watched his brother drag a chair out and flop down into it. He wanted to ask what was wrong but knew that they needed to get this meeting through and that Dean was prone to shut down if asked directly what was wrong. He always did better with letting it slip through cursing whatever had soured his mood.

“From what we can figure there’s a couple veterinarian clinics along the route as well and considering the fact that people medicine isn’t actually any different than animal medicine they may have supplies there and it wouldn’t hurt to check” Jody spoke tapping a few different places on the map. Bobby nodded then cut his eyes at Dean “You and Sam up to taking a team and checking it out? We need the supplies to winterize this place once and for all, not to mention having extra medical supplies on hand wouldn’t hurt”

“Yeah we can handle it Bobby” Dean promised although it was apparent his mind was still not focused on the meeting. “All in all it’ll probably take about a week or so considering the ground you’ll have to cover so I’d pick a good team. Take Y/N with you too she hangs out with Alex and Kaia enough she can spot anything that has medicinal usage from a mile away” Jody added with a wink to Bobby before pushing away from the table to head out. She’d be gathering supplies for whatever team was picked and wanted to get it together.

Bobby watched her leave then turned back to his surrogate sons. “So I was thinking Y/N, Alicia, Max, Gadreel and Charlie would be a decent team to take. Ain’t like any of those girls can’t handle their own in a fight. Max can get through any tight spot and Gadreel is strong as a horse” Dean scoffed at that which earned him a look from Bobby “You got an issue with any of that son?”

Dean shook his head “Nope” then pushed his chair back “I’m going to gather my gear, you two can make sure everyone is up to the run” with that he walked out leaving Bobby to throw a questioning look at Sam who simply shrugged “I don’t really know what that’s about either” “Make sure he keeps a clear head. There’s a lot of dangers out there and not just the biters got it?” Sam nodded “Yes sir”

------

You were helping Jody to gather supplies for the upcoming run after she’d come out of the meeting with Bobby, Dean and Sam. “Do you know anything that could be bothering Dean?” She asked, holding out a pack of dried meat. You took it and shook your head “Not that I know of but I could always just ask him?”

She shrugged “No he’ll tell you or Sam if whatever it is gets to bothering him too much” You would hope so anyways. You always went to Dean if anything was bothering you. He’d offer advice if that’s what you were after or simply offer comfort or a place to vent. “I’m gonna grab my jacket and go bag from my room then I’ll meet everyone by the front gate” she nodded to let you know she’d heard you so you turned to head towards the living quarters.

The halls that had been transformed to be mini dorm rooms were actually quite comfortable considering. You considered yourself lucky that you’d been close with a lot of your group before that fateful day that a widespread virus was alerted in the news. You could still remember Sam’s phone call to you “Pack just what you need. Dean will be pulling up at your place any time”

You’d hastily thrown clothes and the contents of your medicine cabinet in a bag. Before you were through grabbing what you deemed necessary you heard a heavy knock on your door followed by Dean’s voice “Come on sweetheart! We gotta go!” When you opened the door your eyes widened when Dean shoved a gun into your hand. “Dean, what’s going on?” you asked and he took a deep breath “Long story short? The dead are rising. True,blue zombies. We gotta go cause shit is hitting the fan fast”

You gripped the gun noticing the one in his own hand and nodded “Lead the way Winchester. You know I trust you”

------

You shook yourself out of thoughts of the past. You needed to focus on this run completely. You grabbed your go bag from the floor checking what ammo you had and slipping a machete at your side. You glanced at your bat leaned next to the bed but decided against it. It was better the few times you’d go out solo or with just one other person. From what Jody had said there was a full team going after the winterizing supplies.

You slipped your jacket on then slid the strap of your bag across your chest. You walked back towards the doors that led outside. The electricity that the compound ran off of came from a mixture of solar panels and generators. The good part? Bobby knew enough to be able to brew enough corn liquor that the generators had fuel for years.

The only downside was that meant the few vehicles you had could only be used in moderation. Short runs horses were used for but considering this one would take about a week and would be gathering supplies for all the black panel van that was used for such runs was parked by the front gate awaiting those going.

You walked towards the gate and smiled when you spotted Dean standing with Bobby and Sam at the front of the van. They were clearly going over the mapped out areas one more time but you knew neither of them would mind you inserting yourself into the conversation. Since Dean’s back was to you and Sam noticed you first so you raised one finger to your lips. He quickly turned his attention back to the conversation so you wouldn’t be noticed.

You quietly took a few steps forward and slid your arms around Dean’s waist and leaned your head on his shoulder even if that meant you had to stand on your tip toes and still barely reach “So where are we going?” you could see the corners of his mouth tick up and knew he was fighting a smile “We’re going to a few different places sweetheart. You wanna hang off me like a spider monkey or you want to actually look at the map?” you feigned a pout “Why can’t I hang off you like a spider monkey and look at the map?” he rolled his eyes with a laugh “Get down”

You pulled your head down from his shoulder and moved your arms from around his waist to step slightly in front of him and look at the map Bobby had laid across the hood. Sam went over the stops with you, highlighting the couple where you’d be taking the lead since you knew more about what was needed for medicinal purposes. “Sounds good to me. Who’s the rest of the crew?” you could’ve sworn you saw a look be passed among the three of them before Bobby said “Alicia, Charlie, Max and Gadreel” you nodded approvingly at the choices “All good picks”

You heard a sharp whistle and turned to see Charlie walking towards the four of you trailed by the rest of the crew. “What’s up bitches? We ready to ride?” “Of course dear” You replied meeting her halfway.

------

Dean watched as you greeted the rest of the crew going on the run. Charlie was like a sister to him, Alicia and Max were cool but spending the next week in close quarters with you and Gadreel? Yeah he may look for some biters just to have an excuse to kill something.

“Alright! Everyone load up!” he barked out and you cut your eyes up at him “Depends, can I have shotgun for the first few miles at least?” He barely glanced at Gadreel before saying “Of course sweetheart” . You shot him a wink then walked around to the passenger side of the van along with everyone else who was climbing into the back.

Sam didn’t miss the look Dean threw at Gadreel or the way his brother had bristled anytime over the last few weeks when he’d see you with the other man. Was that what the attitude was about before the meeting? Was Dean jealous? He chose not to say anything for now and instead simply walked around to sit next to Gadreel on the middle seat since Charlie had taken up the backseat along with the twins.

------

Your destination was two states over. It was a contraction warehouse that had fallen early. Bobby kept an eye on the amount of biters in it versus the prospects of anyone actually getting inside.

Considering the zombies had lightened up in that area and everything needed to finish winterizing the compound and green houses could be found there it was worth the risk to go. That way you'd have running water and fresh food no matter how severe the coming winter got.

You were curled up with your feet under you watching the road whip by as Dean drove. You had a shoebox full of cassette tapes in your lap looking over them to see if any peaked your interest. You plucked one out of the box and stuck it into the player simply to see Dean's reaction when it started playing.

When the first few notes of It's My Life started playing he cut his eyes at you "Bon Jovi really?" You grinned "Hey Bon Jovi rocks...on occasion" then started singing along and couldn't help but laugh when Sam, Charlie and Max joined in.

No matter the music or the company Dean couldn't fight the smile that worked its way onto his face. You had shifted to have your legs out in front of you and were now drumming on the dash along with the music and had everyone in the van either singing or laughing along. Why had he never realized how amazing you were before? Why had it literally taken an apocalypse to open his eyes?

He watched you turn in your seat and bump Gadreel's leg as You Give Love a Bad Name started and felt that same flicker of anger. Maybe he'd waited too long to see what had been in front of him for years, maybe Gadreel had realized it a lot sooner.

The first day on the road was pretty uneventful. There were no stops to be made marked on the map so it was filled with just driving besides stopping for everyone to find a tree.

Considering the route was figured to be about three days there and three back (giving plenty of leadway for any issues that might arise) you asked Dean once the sun started going down if he was ready to pull over somewhere for the night or if he wanted you or Sam to take over driving.

He glanced in the mirror at Sam "What do you say Sammy? Wanna take the wheel for a while?" "Sure" Sam agreed so Dean stopped dead in the center of the road..not like there was a lot of traffic.

"Well I'm gonna climb in the back and get a little sleep" you announced after realizing Charlie, Max and Alicia were all knocked out. "Yeah Gadreel you wanna hop up here man? I'm pretty wiped too" Dean suggested and Gadreel replied "Sure. I already caught my few hours"

Gadreel held the side door open so you slid under his arm with a smile "Thanks '' he smiled in return. When Dean walked around he grabbed the door "I got it. Thanks" Gadreel simply nodded and climbed into the passenger seat.

You were already slid in next to the window when Dean climbed in next to you. You waited until Sam had started driving to turn so you could curl up next to Dean. He looked down at you with a raised eyebrow "What are you doing?" You grinned "Sleeping. Now hush and be a good pillow" instead of pulling away like you half expected he raised his arm slightly to pull you closer to him "I'll be a good pillow if you be a good pillow" you smiled when you felt him lean his head over on you and whispered "Deal"

"Look alive. This is the first of two vet clinics we gotta hit on this trip" Dean spoke as he pulled the van to a stop and glanced around. "Seven people so I'm thinking three teams of two and leave one person behind the wheel in case we need a fast exit?" You suggested and he winked at you "Just what I was thinking"

You slid your gun into the holster on your thigh but grabbed the machete from your floorboard as first line of defense. Guns were loud and the last thing you wanted was a herd of amped up zombies descending on the group before you could even go through the clinic. You turned and looked at everyone then nodded to yourself “Ok so Charlie you up for setting this one out?” She shrugged “Sure but I get to help clear the next one”

You shot her a smile then said “Ok Max and Alicia, Dean and Sam then Gadreel you’re with me..everyone good with that?” Everyone nodded but Dean who just walked to the back of the van to grab the canvas bags out without so much as a look in your direction. You raised an eyebrow to Sam who shrugged so you followed behind Dean keeping an eye out to make sure all of the commotion hadn’t attracted any undue attention.

You stood slightly behind him hearing him mumble to himself before he turned around and realized you were standing there “Son of a bitch Y/N. Make some noise sweetheart, the point is to not blend in with the dead” you grinned playfully “Is that your way of asking me to bite you?” he rolled his eyes but you could see just the barest hint of a smirk trying to work its way onto his face “Just be careful in there. Sure you trust him to have your back?”

You cut your eyes over to your group where they were all watching the woods line that bordered the back parking lot of the clinic “Yeah, I’ll be ok. Not gonna lie I don’t think I’ll ever trust anyone to have my back the way I trust you or well Sam but Gadreel has proved he’s good in a tight spot”

He nodded and for a second you thought he was going to say something else but he simply held out one of the bags “Remember get in, get out” you took the bag with a small smile “Aye aye” then walked back over to the group.

Dean watched you walk over to Gadreel. You said you’d never trust anyone the way you trusted him..that meant a lot didn’t it? He shook his head then walked over himself to pass Max then Sam a bag before nodding at Charlie “We’ll be out in five”

------

The clinic had three entrances. One to the side of the building, one to the back and one to the front. You and Gadreel took the back entrance, the twins took the side leaving the front to Sam and Dean.

You touched the handle of the door then looked at Gadreel “You want me to pull and you be ready or vice versa?” “Ladies choice” he replied with a laugh. You nodded then motioned to the door “In that case you pull and I’ll be ready”

He got into position but waited until you gave him a nod to open the door. You hoisted your machete but no noise came. You leaned inside and stomped your foot a few times “Hello? Anyone home?” You cut your eyes at him and he shrugged. “Maybe no one ended up here?” “We can only hope” you replied before walking further inside.

You could hear the rest of your crew checking but it appeared the clinic was well and truly empty. You picked a room and waved to Gadreel to follow you. The moment you stepped into the room you pulled your flashlight out of the pocket of your jacket and saw that from the looks of it you’d picked the operating room.

You motioned to the wall of shelves in front of you “I hate to ask but do you think you can give me a lift to the top one so I can see what’s up there?” He laughed lightly and you could feel the short jokes coming but instead he simply pointed to the machete in your hand “Lay that down so I don’t accidentally get stabbed and I’d be glad to” you laid the machete down on the silver table that was in the middle of the room then turned back to Gadreel “Better?” he nodded “Turn around so I can give you a boost then I’ll keep one hand on your back to steady you” you turned towards the shelves like he said and felt his hands around your waist a second before he lifted you into the air.

You climbed onto the highest shelf that normally would take a step ladder to reach then smiled over your shoulder at him “Thank you.Now get ready so if I find something good”

------

Dean and Sam had cleared three different cabinets. They’d found a good amount of first aid supplies ranging from suture kits to wound cleansers. “I’m gonna check on Alicia and Max” Sam said so Dean replied “I’ll check on Y/N and Gadreel”

Sam headed towards the back of the clinic where the twins were so Dean headed towards the operating room where you and Gadreel had gone into. He could hear you laughing right before he opened the door to see Gadreel putting you back down on your feet, his hands were still on your hips and you were smiling up at him with your hands against his chest.

Dean felt that same flicker of anger but this time it was mixed with more emotions than just that. He almost felt sick with just how angry he felt, not to mention the hurt. You weren’t even kissing Gadreel but he felt as if he’d walked in on a lot more intimate moment than he had. Luckily he was able to reel it in and sounded emotionless when he waved a hand towards the two of you “Didn’t know I was interrupting something. Times up, we gotta go so whatever you two are doing, stick a damn pin in it or something” then turned and walked out without saying a word.

------

Gadreel watched Dean walk out then looked back at you “What was that about? I was just helping you down..he doesn’t think we..?” you weren’t sure what to say. To anyone else Dean would’ve sounded almost bored but you knew him well enough to know when he was blocking emotions. You weren’t sure what was going on but when Dean sounded emotionless were the times that his mind was being his worst enemy “I have no clue honestly Gadreel. Don’t worry about it though, I’ll handle it” “I’d never disrespect you or any woman for that matter. I mean well don’t get me wrong you’re a beautiful woman but I thought..” he trailed off and looked again at the door when Dean had disappeared out of then shook his head “Just know if I did anything wrong I apologize” “You didn’t Gadreel. Don’t worry Dean just gets a little antsy on runs” you explained with a strained smile.

By the time you and Gadreel made it to the parking lot everyone had loaded their bags and only Sam stood outside the van. He took the bag from Gadreel then glanced at you, You followed him to the back of the van and watched as he added your bag to the bunch. After he shut the door he turned around and leaned close to you. “What happened in there?” You groaned slightly “He didn’t make a scene did he?” he shook his head “No but I know him like you know him. Now what happened?” You took a breath running your hand down your face “I think he got the wrong idea when he saw Gadreel with his hands on me. He was helping me down off a tall shelf that was it Sam I swear! You know me I wouldn’t do anything on a run and honestly? Yeah Gadreel is a good looking guy I have eyes but that doesn’t mean I’d screw him on a run for fuck’s sake we both have sleeping quarters back at the compound..I don’t know why Dean acted like that! Nice to know one of my closest friends thinks so highly of me that he thinks I’d risk anyone's life to fool around on a run”

You were starting to move past confused onto anger the more you spoke and Sam knew that so he reached out and squeezed your shoulder “Breathe, ride in the backseat with Charlie and Alicia. I’m gonna ride up front with him and Max is riding in the middle seat. I’ll try to talk to him ok?” you nodded, not trusting your voice at the moment because you were highly conflicted.

Finally you managed “Ok” then walked back around the van to climb into the backseat with Alicia and Charlie. Charlie raised an eyebrow at you not riding upfront with Dean but welcomed you into the conversation she and Alicia were having.

The third day on the road meant clearing the second vet clinic. You were going through a list of top things to look for with Alicia. All of you had stopped a few miles from the clinic to clear the road of an overturned tree. You and her were keeping an eye out for any dead that may be attracted to the noises. So far you both had killed one a piece.

“All clear ladies!” Charlie called out so you both headed back to the van. You wanted nothing more than to ask Dean why he’d acted like he had but refused to start an argument in the middle of a run. You’d push it down until all of you got safely back to the compound then you’d confront him about it.

You climbed into the backseat silently sliding between Alicia and Max. You didn’t really want to spare a word for anyone but since Bobby had been clear the clinics were more your wheelhouse everyone was looking at you as to what to grab for human use and what could be left behind.

You finally spoke as Dean was pulling into the overgrown parking lot of the clinic “I’ve went over the list with Alicia and Sam so they both know what to look for” Dean knew you were talking to him in particular and barely cut his eyes at you in the mirror before saying “I’m staying behind the wheel this time. Charlie can go in with Sam” you nodded more to yourself than in response to him. Why was he being so damn infuriating? If he’d just talk to you then...well what exactly would you say?

You climbed out and once your feet hit the dirt you turned to Gadreel “Ready?” he nodded so you looked around to everyone for their acknowledgement that they were all set.You shot one final look at Dean before falling Gadreel across the lot.

------

“Son of a bitch that damn thing came out of nowhere” you cursed kicking the now permanently dead zombie at your feet. Gadreel pulled a bandana from his pocket and held it out “You’ve got some blood smeared across your cheek” you wiped at it and gave him a small albeit appreciative smile “Thanks and again I’m sorry about how Dean acted” he shrugged “It’s ok really. It’s understandable”

You laughed harshly “Accusing us of screwing around literally on a run? That’s understandable? You’re a little too zen” he looked at you for a moment as if there was a second meaning to what he’d said but if there was you couldn’t quite grasp it. He shook his head after a moment then held a hand out “I’ll carry the bag”

------

Dean was watching the door of the clinic closely. Max and Alicia were the first duo out followed by Sam and Charlie. You and Gadreel bought up the rear.

He tried to bite his tongue but when you started to climb in considering you were the first one in the van he couldn’t stop the words before they came out “You and Gadreel didn’t get into anymore tight spots did you?” He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth but it was too late to pull them back then. He could see the shock in your eyes when you froze halfway into the back seat and slowly turned to look at him the shock quickly turning to anger “Believe me Dean if I was to fuck Gadreel I’d wait until I had longer than a few minutes to try him out” before either of you could say anything else Sam opened the front door and Charlie stepped up to climb in behind you.

Dean was still staring at you in the mirror when he heard Alicia ask if you were ok since you were balling up what looked like a bandana in your hands. “Yeah just took out a biter so Gadreel gave it to me to clean the blood off”

------

You purposely turned to stare out the window and cursed the moment you’d agreed to come on this run. You wouldn’t cry. Hell you couldn’t afford the luxury of hurt feelings these days but knowing that didn’t exactly take the sting out of Dean’s words. You looked down at your hands as you tied Gadreel’s bandana into a loose knot then untied it and repeated the process. You just had to get this run over then you could distance yourself from Dean. You’d said the first thing that had came to mind that would hopefully hurt him the same way his words had hurt you..what had exactly become of yours and Dean’s friendship over the last few months?

Day four meant the last leg of the run before the turn around to head home to the compound. You hadn’t spoken a word to Dean and hadn’t really spoken to anyone without them saying something to you first. Dean hated that his jealousy because whether he liked it not he was jealous he hated that he’d let it put a wedge between you and him,

He had no idea what he could do to even slightly make it up to you. He spotted the turn off for the construction warehouse so he cleared his throat “Charlie you wanna be a wheelman again?” she glanced up from her spot next to you and nodded “Sure!” “Then we’ll do two teams of three that good with everyone?” he was hoping you’d say something but instead of what he wanted you to say you looked up “I’ll be on the team with Alicia and Max. I have the list you said we needed. I’ll tear it in half and hand Gadreel the other half. You, him and Sam can find that stuff”

Dean didn’t attempt to argue with you and only nodded instead “Sounds like a plan” Sam cut his eyes at his brother not really being used to him being ok with someone else calling the shots but it was you after all. “You good?” he asked quietly and Dean replied “Yeah” then pulled into the parking lot of the construction warehouse.

------

You were out of the van the moment it stopped rolling. There were two zombies shambling around the lot and you took them out in tandem. You turned to look at everyone as they climbed out of the van and managed to crack a smile when Charlie teased “My oh my someone woke up on the wrong side of the apocalypse” you shrugged “Hey beats any other stress release there was pre-z”

A small chorus of laughter went through everyone and you were glad for that. You didn’t want whatever was happening between you and Dean to affect everyone else. You winked at Alicia “Grab your brother and lets go shopping” she laughed and grabbed Max by the arm then motioned to you “Lead the way”

------

Sam could practically feel the tension in the air between Dean and Gadreel. He had thought for a while Dean’s feelings for you went deeper than friendship but it hadn’t been as blaringly apparent until Gadreel came into the picture. He was a good guy, he got along well with everyone in the compound. He respected that the women helped keep everything going and always managed to pull a smile to your face over some small joke. Dean was threatened by him because up to this point there hadn’t been any other guy that garnered any of your attention away from Dean not one anyone that you would be a possible match with.

The three of them were working in silence quickly gathering what was on their half of the list. Sam was personally just hoping no fight broke out that he’d had to break up. He noticed that Dean kept cutting his eyes at Gadreel and said a prayer under his breath that just for once Dean would let it go.

He had no such luck because although Dean didn’t say anything Gadreel cleared his throat “Dean” Dean raised his eyebrows in response to the other man “Yeah?” “Just so you know nothing happened between me and Y/N. She’s a beautiful, amazing woman but...”

Dean cut Gadreel off before he could finish speaking with a shake of his head “I was in the wrong man...to snap at either of you. You’re both grown, what you do is your business and I trust the fact that neither of you would do anything on a run to risk your lives or anyone else's”

Sam watched the both of them for a moment trying to decipher if they were actually trying to get along or mutually waving the white flag for your benefit but the moment was broken by Alicia’s scream of your name. No words had to be passed amongst the three men; they all started running towards the sound.

------

You were following behind Alicia and Max trying to keep an eye out for the last couple items on your half of the list. You glanced up at a shelf that ran nearly up to the high ceiling of the warehouse and decided to check it out. Max stopped when he saw you looking and offered “Want a hand getting up there?” you shook your head with a slight smirk “Naw I think I can handle it but stay close just in case”

You made it to the halfway point and had even grabbed a few things you knew were needed when you went to step on a board and felt it crack under you. One minute you were standing the next you felt yourself falling and only barely managed to hold onto the backpack you had been storing supplies in.

You hit hard behind the shelf and heard a low growl.You pushed yourself to sit up and saw three biters shuffling towards you “Son of a bitch” you groaned trying to get to your feet. You went to push yourself up but felt a gush of blood from your left arm so you used your right to get to your feet just barely avoiding the chomping teeth of the zombie that was bearing down on you. You could hear Alicia scream your name but couldn’t spare a response. You had to show attention to the threat in front of you. You slammed your machete into the skull of the first one in front of you and cursed again when you realized that while you’d killed it your blade was stuck. You reached for the knife at your side knowing it was your only chance. You kicked the second one square in the stomach knocking it back long enough you could stab the last one in the eye.

You pulled your knife free and felt the one you’d kicked grab your jacket. You struggled to get out of it before the zombie sank it’s rotting teeth into the material. You slammed your knife into it’s skull then leaned heavily against the wall. The shelf slid away to show you an exit route. You ran towards the sunlight now streaming in and saw that Dean, Sam, Gadreel, Max and Alicia had all worked to get the shelf pulled out.

The moment Alicia saw you she looked at the guys “Turn around let me help her check herself out” the men all quickly obliged so you let her pull your shirt up and check across your back,stomach and both arms to assure you hadn’t been bit. “Didn’t you find a few suture kits at the last clinic?” She asked and you nodded then spoke loud enough the guys could hear “All clear boys. You can look now”

Dean’s eyes were glued to your left arm where the sleeve of your grey shirt was soaked with blood “Please tell me that’s a cut sweetheart” you smiled slightly “Bastard tried to bite me but only got my jacket” “Thank god” he breathed. You simply nodded and looked around “Did we get everything we need cause I’d really like to go home to the compound now. It’s been a long week” Sam laughed lightly and nodded “Yeah we got it all but first someone has to help stitch you up before we roll out”

------

Charlie had been nominated to help you stitch up your arm so you were sitting in the back of the van while she worked. Everyone else was keeping an eye out to ensure no more biters made their presence known. “So are we gonna talk about some of the weirdness?” You raised an eyebrow which made her nod in response whether at you or at herself “Ok then guess not” she tied off the last stitch and snipped it “I don’t have to tell you to keep it clean” you slid your shirt back on fully and gave her a small smile “I know aftercare instructions ma’am”

------

Dean watched you in the rearview mirror as he drove. You’d fallen asleep in the jacket Gadreel had given you to wear considering yours had been turned into a zombie chew toy. He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry that you were leaning against Gadreel asleep. He’d nearly lost you. Nothing else mattered. Why had he acted like he had towards you? Why couldn’t he just tell you he had feelings for you? Why hadn’t he realized it before Gadreel joined the compound? He let out a breath which made Sam look his way. “You good?” He nodded “Yeah be even better when we get home”

A few days had passed since all of you had made it back to the compound. You had barely spoken to Dean since getting back. You were still conflicted about the way he’d acted on the run.You were walking through one of the greenhouses checking the medicinal plants. You could hear someone walking behind you but didn’t have to look to know who it was. You’d know Dean’s footsteps anywhere.

“What’s this one?” He asked stopping at the plant furthest away from you “Echinacea, it helps for colds and flu” you replied barely looking in his direction. He walked a little closer to you and touched another plant. “What about this one?” You sighed loudly before answering “Ginger, it has anti-inflammatory, antibacterial,antiviral property and helps with nausea”

You finally turned to look fully at him “Can we not act like you actually give a damn about any of these plants? Why are you here Dean? You’ve avoided me for days, hell I’ve avoided you too so why are we talking now?” he took a few steps towards you stopping only a mere foot away “I miss you, you’re my best friend and I acted like an idiot..” “And practically accused me of being a whore that couldn’t even wait to get back to safety to fuck someone” you added and he chuckled lightly “That too”

“Why Dean? Why have you been pulling away from me for months and why did this run just cement the fact that our friendship is apparently broken beyond repair” you felt your voice break but didn’t try to hide it. You cared about Dean even if you’d resigned yourself to only being a friend to him because he’d never see you as more. Now you’d even lost that.

“Please, don’t say that Y/N. I was an asshole I’ll admit. I never should’ve acted like that towards you or Gadreel..it’s just..” he trailed off and you were too tired of beating around the bush by that point so this time you were the one to snap “Just what Dean?”

“I saw you getting close with him. I saw the way you two looked at each other then seeing his hands on you and the way you were smiling..I knew I’d lost any chance with you. It took me seeing you with him to open my eyes to just how much you mean to me” you were stunned into silence at his words. After a moment without you replying he laughed bitterly “Yeah and now I look like an idiot to add to it. Look I just wanted to say sorry and I hope you’ll forgive me”

He turned to walk out and only then did you find your voice “You are an idiot” he turned around to face you “Excuse me?” You crossed the space to stand in front of him “You’re an idiot Dean Winchester. I've had feelings for you for a long time. Yeah Gadreel is a good looking guy and a sweetheart. We’re good friends and I like spending time with him but as far as who I want? It’s been you, it’s always been you”

A smile slipped onto his face “Well does that mean we’re gonna give this a try?” you shrugged nonchalantly “I don’t know. Are you gonna be a jealous ass if I have male friends and hang out with them?” he laughed “No, I promise you my days of being a jealous asshole are over. If you’re sure you want me I know you only say what you mean” you tapped your chin in mock thought for a moment before saying “In that case why don’t we seal it with a kiss?” “Thought you’d never ask,” he replied, pulling you into his arms.