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talesmaniac89 · 5 years ago

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Choices - Sam - Back Door

New to Choices? Start Here

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where your choices determine the outcome and whether it’s a Dean x Reader or Sam x Reader.. Go to the intro to start your story now!

Triggers: Swearing, heartbreak, worry

Choice: [You chose to sneak in through the back door]

Y/N = Your Name | Y/E/C = Your Eye Colour | Y/H/C = Your Hair Colour

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“I’ll go around the back. With all the windows in this place I think I have the best chance of sneaking around unnoticed,” You finally spoke up when the silence had stretched on for long enough. Knowing full well that Sam wouldn’t make the choice for you as he squared his jaw stubbornly, worry painting his eyes a darker shade.

Giving the overprotective hunter in front of you a tired sigh, you checked and rechecked the weapon in your hand and patted across the backup weapons on your body. Like you always did when the nervous energy coursed through your veins before a hunt. Rolling your shoulders, you pushed the air out of your lungs through pursed lips. Steeling yourself for the fight.

Time for a witch hunt.

“(Y/N)...” Sam’s voice was only a low whisper next to you. But in his whispered version of your name you could glean all his reasoning. Every excuse he’d cooked up for you to sit the fight out, every half-baked plan leaving one door unchecked. And you wouldn’t hear them. Not when sitting out could end up with him hurt somewhere in that massive mansion. You’d promised yourself you would never abandon Sam Winchester. Even if he set those damned worried puppy dog eyes in you.

Even if you could never make yourself tell Sam how you felt about him. Letting him carry your heart safety pinned to his sleeve instead. You’d also never leave him. And that included leaving him to go fight the battles on your behalf. If he was a fortress, hiding a small, scared boy, then you would be damned sure to be his sentinel. Standing guard outside and ensuring that his walls weren’t torn down by the cold and unfeeling world you were forced to live in.

“No Sam. We need all hands on deck. I’ll… See you in there, ok?” You sighed, giving the big guy a small smile to soften the words and the harsh way they’d left you. None of which was aimed at him. With your gun in your hand and your shoulders tense, you were already ready to fight, and that unreleased ball of tense energy had tainted your words as well.

“Alright, just… Promise me you’ll stay safe?”

“Always Sam. I’m not going anywhere,” You were already moving when Sam spoke up, so you threw the words over your shoulder along with a bright, confident smile as you quickly backpedalled towards the Impala to follow the tree line around to the back. Staying out of sight from the house would be your best bet.

Crouching low, you kept your weapon at your side as you ran for the trees. Even though your pace was slow, your pulse was racing. The beat of it heavy in your throat and loud in your head from the heat pouring through your t-shirt into your back. Your body was reacting to Sam’s eyes as they burned into you. The worry radiating out from them and caressing your back like feathery soft prayers for your safety as you kept your eyes on the woods in front of you.

You had to keep moving forward, keep your eyes on the forest. If you turned around to catch those warm worried eyes, you’d just end up running towards him again. Back to where he was standing, sunshine eyes clouded in the uncountable what ifs that wouldn’t leave him until he was sure that Dean and you were safe. That you hadn’t left him in that achingly permanent way that every new hunt and every new monster tried to force you into.

No, you had to keep your eyes on the green in front of you, not the hazel behind you. If not you’d be back by his side in a heartbeat. To have his back, as you should be, instead of running away from him. To be by his side, like your heart was.

Clenching your jaw, you broke into a quiet jog. The faster you got in the house, the sooner you’d be back to his side.

---

Walking around the house took longer than you wanted it to.

The farmhouse itself was large, sure, but more than just that, the grounds were fucking hellishly huge. They could have built the house three times larger and still not kissed the edge of the tree line. Which of course had made it much harder to sneak up towards the backdoor on a house that was at least 30% glass.

The slightest wrong move could see you spotted by the witches and your whole plan ruined. So, you’d had to carefully move even further back than planned before following one of the few windowless walls back to the door you were meant to go in.

As you pushed the heavy wooden door open, your shoulders stayed tense and your breath locked in your chest. The boys had to be inside already. But you’d heard no sounds or signs of a fight as you stealthily kept sneaking up on the house. And the inside was just as deathly quiet as the grounds had been. So, clearly your cover was still secure as you stepped into the beautiful kitchen.

It was a stunning room; big and bright. Bigger even than your industrial sized kitchen in the bunker, which had all three of you (albeit secretly and all pretending you didn’t see the others) bouncing in hyperactive glee. Either at the thought of homemade burgers, Dean, something other than diner food for once, Sam, or the promise of home baked goodies, you. And it was also definitely a hell of a lot prettier than the steel on… Well, more steel, set-up in the bunker.

The former owners had made the room bright and easy to navigate across, with barely any splashes of colour. Just a hint of bright pastels breaking up the whole room, and, from what you could see, the adjoining dining room. Clearly one of the former residents had been a fan of white. The room was the colour of fresh snow as far as the eye could see.

Called it; hell to clean.

You smirked to yourself at the thought as you scanned the room, keeping low behind the white kitchen island before walking softly towards the first door you spotted. It seemed to lead deeper into the mansion, so it was your best bet at finding Sam and Dean.

Even just the thought of the Winchester brothers somewhere in the big mansion had your hand twitching around the grip of the gun. Your body wanted to run and find them, to find Sam, as soon as possible. But you knew you had a job to do. And you were a damned good hunter. You had to move slow, cover your bases. Witches were tricky; you needed military precision. Not the heavy pulsing steps and loud actions of beating love-sick hearts.

No, for now you’d just have to remind yourself that you’d already slipped him your heart a long time ago. For situations just like this one, when you couldn’t be by his side. Safety-pinned precariously to his sleeve, just out of sight from the hunter’s bright, attentive eyes.

Stopping by the door you held your breath. Listening through the wood for any sounds. The house was quiet. But it did little to quell your worry and fear for Sam’s safety, for both the Winchester’s. Sure, you knew they could take care of themselves, but that didn’t stop you from worrying, from wanting them to be happy and safe, even when outside of the four walls of the secure bunker.

Dean was your best friend, you loved him like a big brother, and Sam was… Sam. The only man whose smile could wipe all the clouds from the sky and replace them with warm sunlight again. The strongest fragile and broken man you knew.

You’d promised to make them a home, but Sam Winchester was your home. Though he still found himself searching for one. Unaware that both Dean and you felt the most comfortable, the most at home, wherever he was.

Shaking free from your worried thoughts you took a quiet breath, shifting your hold on your gun just enough to open the door a crack before placing your hand back on the weapon. Letting the heavy feel of it ground you as you steadied it with both hands you looked out into the hallway. Barely giving it a cursory glance before letting the steel toe of your heavy boots open the door the rest of the way.

Empty.

Pushing out the breath you hadn’t realised you were holding; you kept your gun aimed steadily in front of you. Your finger resting on the trigger guard as you took a careful step into the brightly lit hallway.

It had been a happy home, you noted. Pictures of the two hex bag recipients were smiling down at you from the walls, all the way down the long hallway. Happy and in love. Unaware of the monsters that were coming for them. Clenching your jaw, you quietly seethed as your knuckles whitened around the gun.

Two innocent lives, cut brutally short just because two damned monsters wanted a free AirBnB for a little while. You’d kill those damned bastards. And, if you could find some way to make it happen, you’d even charge ‘em the clean-up fee from their new little not-so-cosy homes in hell.

Witches like these were why you stayed in the business. You needed to make the world better, brighter... Safer. Both for the many civilians, sleeping soundly in their beds and going on with their lives, unaware of what was hiding in the shadows, and for the Winchester brothers. For Sam.

With Sam’s bright eyes as your driving force, you quietly walked down the hallway. Keeping both your ears and eyes sharp as you moved towards the first door. The damned house was just too big. It would take a small eternity to check every room.

Sliding against the wall, you kept your back flush with the cream coloured wallpaper as your hand reached out to carefully open the first door. Barely feeling the wood move under your fingers before you pushed off the wall and spun to face the room. Gun lifted and ready to redecorate some wicked witch’s face.

Study… Empty.

Casting a quick glance around the room you groaned internally. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with large mahogany bookcases. Filled to the breaking point with books. You really hoped the spell books weren’t hiding somewhere in that mess. It would be hell to go through all of those later. Either way, your temp job as a supernatural librarian would have to wait till you ganked the witches.

Turning, you stepped back into the hallway. Continuing down it with increasing worry from the silence pressing down on you. The boys still hadn’t found them? How big was this fucking house anyway? Speeding up as much as you could while still keeping quiet, you kept walking. Looking into each extravagantly furnished room as you got to it.

All empty.

You only stopped in your stealthily frantic search when you noticed the door coming up to your right. Unlike the many others, this one had been left slightly ajar. Not good.

Holding your breath, you kept your gun aimed at the door as you slowly approached it, nudging it fully open with your foot. Your finger rested on the trigger, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. Only when another empty room came into view did you move your finger back to the trigger guard and breathe an annoyed sigh at the game of hide and seek this hunt was quickly turning into.

No Sabrina the not-so-teenage squatter there either. But… Bingo. This was clearly their little ‘workspace’. What had once been a small home office had gotten a bit of a grotesque makeover.

Jars of things you didn’t want to look too closely at were spread out across the desk along with different shaped bowls and unidentifiable tools. They’d dragged a small side table into the middle of the room, the carpet pushed aside to litter the floor with intricate runes and warding symbols. And, there, right out in the open for the world to see...

Spell books.

They really shouldn’t have. Your gracious, unaware hosts had made it too easy for you. Grinning you shot a quick glance at the open door before carefully closing it until it was left just a bit ajar again.

Listening for anything out of the ordinary, you dropped one hand from your gun and unceremoniously picked up the brittle, old books. Placing them into one of the larger, more sturdy stone bowls instead.

The bottom of the chosen bowl was coated in something dry and red that you really hoped wasn’t human as you scrunched your nose at it and busied yourself with finding the lighter fluid in the breast pocket of your jacket. Since the books were so easy to find. You could just as well take care of them before continuing the hunt.

Two birds, one very flammable bowl of brittle paper and lighter fluid.

Dousing the books in a generous dose of arson in a can, you fought the urge to hum a little campfire tune to yourself as you fished the zippo out of your pocket. Flicking it open and on without any issues before dropping the whole lighter in the bowl. A waste of a perfectly good lighter, maybe, but you needed to keep moving and fast.

Your need for action was solidified just as the first flames licked up the spines of the old tomes. The sight of searing flames accompanied by a loud explosion of sound. The single gunshot sounded louder in the previously deathly quiet house as it rang out from somewhere deeper in the labyrinthian hallways.

Shit.

Casting one last glance at the flames tearing the spell books apart, you turned on your heel and ran. The faces of the two men in your life tattooed across panicked (Y/E/C) eyes as you hurried down the hallway towards the sound. It was just one gunshot. They’d be fine. They’d probably taken out the witch without much of a fight. But until you could see that with your own eyes, the heavy nauseous feeling in your stomach just wouldn’t let up.

It wasn’t hard to find the source of the noise.

The wide-open door, near the winding staircase leading into the second level, was a clear sign as you slid to a full stop just out of view of whatever was happening in the room. Keeping your gun raised, you stepped closer. Ready to pepper the whole room in bullets at even the slightest hint at something being wrong. You weren’t taking any chances as you kept your breath steady against the onslaught of early panic and stepped into view of the room. Tense shoulders relaxing as your eyes, and gun, met with green eyes and a similar weapon pointed in your direction.

Once your best friend came fully into view you lowered your revolver with a relieved sigh. The dead witch by Dean’s feet a testament to what had happened as green eyes brightened to give you a cocky grin. Clearly you looked as frazzled as you felt, if Dean’s raised eyebrow was anything to go by.

Rolling your eyes at the hunter in front of you, you kept your focus on the dead witch. The man looked to be in his mid 30s. Perfectly ordinary in every way. If you looked past the bullet lodged in his brain that was.

If this was the male counterpart to the pair, that meant the woman was elsewhere in the house. Since your briefing had made it clear that the two of them imagined themselves to be somewhat of a wicked Bonnie and Clyde duo. Thinking their love alone was reason enough to turn the world on its head.

“One down, one to go,”

After the gunshot had clearly signalled that you were there, you didn’t even bother keeping your voice low as you casually stepped over the body to give your friend a quick hug. The seconds always dragged on and felt like small pockets of eternity whenever you had to split up with the boys on a hunt. Knowing your best friend was safe was already enough to calm your nerves a bit. Though the fact that Sam hadn’t come running at the sound of the gunshot was… Disconcerting.

No. You couldn’t let yourself panic. Panicking led to mistakes. Sometimes deadly mistakes. You couldn’t let your mind stray from the hunt that way. Hopefully he was just busy keeping the other witch away from you. Or maybe keeping to the shadows to catch her off guard when she came running for you to avenge the lover boy by your feet. Dean had, after all, put a permanent end to their relationship status…

Maybe you should petition Facebook to add a relationship status option for ‘currently avenging my evil, dead lover’? Considering you’d ended more than one relationship the permanent way, you knew a few monsters that would appreciate the option. Ok… So, your mind was spiralling, and you were definitely panicking.

“Jigs up. The other one had to have heard that…”

Dean brought you out of your rambling thoughts, his eyes on the door as he spoke. Though the words were clearly meant for you, as there was still no sign of big hazel eyes and comforting smiles in the empty doorway.

“Let’s find Sam and clean house,”

You kept the worst of your fears out of your voice and your eyes away from the worried ones of the older Winchester by rechecking the safety on your gun. You both knew that the silence following the explosively loud gunshot couldn’t be good. But neither of you would vocalize it. No, you just had to find Sam. Everything would be fine again when you were all together. Everything was always fine when the three of you were together.

“You take the upstairs; I’ll keep going down here and come join you,” Dean’s voice was hard as he stepped towards the door. Ready to head down the hallway that snaked under the stairs and missing your quick nod as you hurried after him. Maybe splitting up wasn’t the best tactical choice. But the house was just too damn big, and you had to find Sam. Fast.

Trying to still keep somewhat quiet to not alert the witch of your exact location, you ran for the stairs. Even taking the steps two at the time, the damned winding staircase was an endless nightmare to your panicking mind. You would have been up in half the time if the original owners hadn’t tried so fucking hard to be bourgeois.

Once you finally reached the top, you had to bite the inside of your mouth to keep from screaming out loud in frustration. Of course, the upstairs section was just as big of a mess of hallways and rooms as downstairs. Hadn’t the damned homeowners ever heard about open plan concepts?

No choice, start searching (Y/N).

Sam would be fine. He had Dean, he had you. The two of you would never leave him behind. Sam had to be fine.

---

You’d barely started looking through the first few rooms, and one accidental peek into a linen closet the size of your bunker bedroom, when Sam’s voice echoed down the hallway from somewhere far ahead. The swear words followed by your name and Dean’s were unmistakable and sounded heartbreakingly terrified.

Something was very wrong.

Forcing your body into action, you threw yourself down the hallway. Your breath sticking in your throat as you kept your gun drawn and aimed ahead of you. He was still breathing; he could still speak. That was all that mattered. You could deal with anything else. Now you just had to get to him.

You weren’t even keeping up the facade of being quiet anymore as you let your boots hit the hallway floor with heavy panicked steps. Grateful for the thick carpet that was still somehow swallowing up the sound from your desperate sprint towards the man you loved.

Sam was afraid. That was all the driving force you needed. Your always strong and steady hunter with the kindest heart of any man you knew was afraid.

As you slid to a halt in front of the door that Sam’s voice was bleeding through, sounding more and more agitated with every broken shout of your name, you took a shaky breath. Hell, you barely even bothered steadying yourself as you aimed your gun. Saying to hell with slow, steady and quiet, you kept your gun aimed at the wood as you lifted a booted foot and kicked in the door.

---

The weapon in your hands easily found the witch as soon as the door swung open with a violent crack against the wall. Clearly she’d been in the middle of a spell. Your grand entrance however, had shook her concentration as she looked up at you with angry eyes and a twisted sneer. Facing down the lethal steel pointed right between her eyes as if it was nothing more than a harmless toy.

But the vicious hatred in steel blue eyes barely even registered with you. Not when Sam was right there. Standing next to her, yet not attacking her or even fighting back. He wasn’t even looking over at where you’d just kicked the damned door in. His body was completely still with only his head moving, hands fisted into tight balls at his side as he looked everywhere but directly at you. Brown hair whipping around his face in his frantic search.

As you watched him, watched the heart-breaking loss in hazel eyes, the realisation hit you like a straight punch to your diaphragm right before his words could. Forcing the breath out of your lungs as a choked groan. Sam couldn’t see you.

“(Y/N)? Dean? Where are you!?” Sam’s voice sounded small and broken. Just a shadow of its usual strength as his eyes went straight past you, not stopping to take you in. Just the whisper of a broken boy, lost in the nightmares of his shadows. Abandoned and alone.

“Sam?” You could hear the frantic panic in your own raised voice. You knew it wasn’t good to show the damned bitch she had the upper hand. But watching the man you loved stand terrified and alone in the middle of the room, not even noticing the witch next to him that could easily end his life, you just couldn’t make yourself give a damn about hunter 101s and protocols. Nothing fucking mattered if Sam was hurting.

But no recognition warmed hazel eyes at your words. His head didn’t even turn in your direction. It wasn’t that Sam couldn’t see you. He couldn’t even hear you. Sam Winchester was trapped in his own head, and none of your repeated, increasingly louder shouts of his name could break through the darkness that surrounded him.

Sam was lost.

Whipping your head around and ignoring the way (Y/H/C) strands stuck to your damp cheeks from tears you hadn’t even realised you were crying, you channelled all your protective fury and worried rage through your eyes and directly into the monster who did this to him. Your grip around the revolver tightened as your finger rested against the trigger. A silent warning that you could blow her brains out between one breath and the next.

“What did you do to him bitch?!” You didn’t like the broken, high-pitched tint to your voice. You’d wanted to sound threatening, not panicked. But it was hard to breathe around the heartbreak and Sam’s constant broken attempts of finding you through the darkness. Your finger twitched against the trigger, nearly making the gun go off in your hands as you took a shaky breath to steady yourself. You wanted her to hurt. A bullet to the brain was too quick, too easy, for her.

“He can’t see you or hear you. He can’t see anyone he cares about… Or me for that matter,” The blue-eyed witch in front of you were smirking. The sickening smile on painted red lips nauseating when paired with Sam’s broken voice ringing in your ears. She thought she’d won. She thought she'd beat the Winchesters.

“Fix. It. Right fucking now,” You spoke through gritted teeth as you took another step into the room. Letting your fury keep you moving as your eyes burned into the witch. Her overconfident smirk faltered as she flinched and stepped back when hit with the uncontrolled rage that was rolling off of you in searing hot waves.

Perfectly manicured, fidgeting hands busied themselves with smoothing down the satin of her simple, elegant dress, ala 1950s Audrey Hepburn. Black, simple and timeless, paired with matching heels. Trying to keep up an illusion that she still had some semblance of control. It was the kind of dress women wear when going to war against the world. But paired with her terrified big eyes, the dress looked ill-fitting and out of place. Like a child playing dress up in boots way too big for her.

“No can do… Call it an insurance policy...” The witch took a while to find her voice again and the strength to push back from the avalanche that was your protective rage. But when she did her words did nothing except infuriate you more as she trailed off in a scared whimper.

Casting a quick glance in Sam’s direction you felt the trigger under your finger. Letting your eyes soften for just a split second as you watched him before turning hard as steel again when they shifted to focus on the witch.

Sam was trapped. His world had gone dark, stopped existing even though he was standing right there. In the same room as you. Calling for you, calling for Dean. Yet not finding you. Even if you were right there.

Sam Winchester was lost in his own worst nightmare. Where everyone he loved had finally abandoned him. Like he always thought they would. It was killing you, shattering the heart still pinned to the lost man’s sleeve.

And it was all her fault.

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Make your choice below to move the story along:

What do you do?

[Run to Sam’s side] or [Kill the witch]

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Confused or New to Choices? Start Here Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where you pick your Winchester brother and go on a hunt for one of 8 different endings in total. Four for Sam and four for Dean (2 happy and 2 bad endings per brother). Go to the intro to start your story!

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spnwriter · 5 years ago

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Maybe he doesn’t want to take the chance.

AN: there is a slight sexual theme to this one, it’s talked about but nothing graphic. just a warning. <3

I should have known better. Hunters don't get the apple pie life. We don't get a happily ever after. Dating isn't something hunters get to do. I was only hunting part-time, trying to get out of the life but it's never easy. I grew up in it, my dad had me hunting as soon as I could hold a gun. After he died, I killed the werewolf that killed him. Unfortunately, the whole pack came after me so I didn't end up getting out. I slowly started to taper off how often I took cases. So I figured I'd try to date, have a semi-normal life...it wasn't working. I had been seeing this amazing guy, Mikey. I hadn't told him what I do on the side but, I have a feeling he'd take it well. Things were going swimmingly. I really thought that he could the reason I get out of the life. No such luck, I got home from a hunt and found a skinny little blonde on top of him. And just like that my happily ever after goes up in smoke. He said it was because I was never around. He had needs that I couldn't cater to so I broke his nose before getting in my car. I drove as fast and as far as I could before the tears started blinding my vision. I pull over on the side of the road allowing the sobs to take over my body. I actually thought he loved me. He said he did but then again, everybody lies. I just so happened to be on the other side of one this time. I suppose it's some kind of cosmic karma for lying as much as I do in the hunting life. I slam my hands against the steering wheel as anger fills my body. How dare he? We were together for a year tomorrow. I didn't hunt that often, in fact, I was hardly gone at all. Maybe a couple of days once a month. Dear God why me? Why can't I be happy? A sob wrecks through my body. I tried to hard. I tried to have a 'normal' life. I wanted that, why can't I have that? My thoughts drift, I wonder if it'd be uncalled for is I went back and shot him? I mean like in the knee or something...

. “Maybe a little.” a gruff voice says from behind me.

I jump turning around to stare into familiar ocean blue eyes.

“Cas! You scared the shit out of me!” I snap at the angle in my back seat as I wipe the tears from my eyes.

“My apologizes, I heard your prayer and wanted to check on you.” Cas explains looking at me through the rearview mirror.

“I didn't pray.”

“Not in the normal way no but I did hear you.” Cas sighs placing a hand on my shoulder before we arrive at the bunker.

Sam and Dean are sat at the library table. They both look up at us when we appear in the room.

“What happened?” Sam asks standing quickly to rush over to me. He inspects my body for injuries, gently cupping my jaw in his hands as his eyes scan my body. I reach up grabbing his wrists. Sam and I had always been close. Since I met him the younger Winchester and I got along well. Alright, alright I may have a small (massive) crush on the tall hunter but who wouldn't? Sam is such a sweetheart, so caring and eyes on the eyes. I know he'd never like me back so I settle for being his friend. I'd rather have him in my life in a platonic way than not at all. These three men around me have always been there for me. They're my family. This is where I had planned on going before Cas zapped me here. I knew this was the place I could get my head back on straight. Heal and not be judged for it.

“I'm not injured Sammy.” I whisper as his eyes soften at the notice of the dried tears on my face.

“Mike cheated on her.” Cas exclaims “She was in her car crying, she prayed.”

“Cas!” I sigh “Come on.”

Sam is quick to wrap his arms around me, holding me tight. He places a gentle kiss on my cheek before whispering “You deserve so much better. I'm sorry he did that you.”

“I'm going to kill him.” Dean exclaims loudly before grabbing his gun and walking towards me.

Sam lets me go as I say “Hey if anyone gets to shoot his ass it's me.”

Dean is quick to replace Sam. He wraps his arms around me. “I'm sorry Kid. I know you loved him.” Dean whispers kissing the side of my head before walking back to the table. The thing is, I didn't love him. I liked him but, I could never love him the way I love Sam. No one could ever hold a candle to the younger Winchester. I suppose that's why I was with Mikey in the first place, to get over him but, it didn't work. I just kept comparing them and I ended up getting heartbroken anyway.

Sam takes my hand in his, leading me to his room. He shuts the door behind us as I flop on his bed. He laughs lightly before taking the spot next to me. He turns his head towards me asking “Do you want to talk about it?” I frown looking at the ceiling.

“I'm starting to question my choice in men. I ended up being destroyed physically, emotionally and I don't understand. Love is supposed to heal you but it doesn't do that for me. I've been cheated on more times than I can count, I've been replaced with someone better, I was lied to by the person I love. He said he loved me. He didn't though. Love fucking destroyed me. In the end I'm left wondering if I'm good enough. Maybe I too blind to see the real me. What if the real me isn't good enough? Maybe love does heal but I'm just not good enough? Maybe I'm the reason he cheated and chose someone better, prettier, thinner. Maybe I'm the reason he didn't love me. Maybe it's me. Maybe it's all my fault.” I vent, allowing my insecurities to show.

“Y/N, look at me.” Sam says voice gentle

. I turn to face the hazel eyes I love so much. He frowns at me placing a hand on the side of my face.

“You are not the problem. It isn't your fault he cheated. You didn't do anything wrong. You are an amazing woman. You are a beautiful, kind strong woman. He just didn't see it. It's his fault, not yours.” Sam whispers. “As for him picking someone 'better' I don't think it's possible. Yeah, she may have been thinner than you but, that doesn't make her better than you.” “He said he did it because I was gone too much. He had needs that I couldn't meet...” I hesitate not wanting to voice what I was actually thinking about what Mikey had said. Yes, Sam and I were best friends and yeah we had talked about sex before but never alone. It's always been with Dean present. Mostly because he's the one who brings it up. I really don't want to have this conversation with him but at the same time, I really need to voice this stuff. I can't let it sit in my head and overwhelm me.

“Was he trying to imply that you didn't meet his needs...” Sam asks, confusion in his voice.

“I think so...I don't know I really didn't stick around to hear an explanation.”

“A relationship isn't all about sex Y/N. If you weren't meeting his needs he should have talked to you about it not cheated on you. I mean if he got off he shouldn't have any complaints.”

“By that logic I should have been the one having complaints.” I joke, not thinking that I just admitted that Mikey never got me off in our entire almost year relationship.

“Wait, you're telling me he never got you off? “ Sam sits up suddenly causing me to follow his actions turning my body to face him. “Like ever?”

“Kind of an awkward conversation Sammy.” I blush

“No, no, you brought it up. I want to know.”

“If you really must know no he never did,” I admit.

“You guys were together for a year.” Sam utters, obviously trying to wrap his head around the new information he'd just been told.

“Believe me, I know.”

“Did he never go down on you or something?” Sam asks, unashamed of how personal of a question that was.

“Sam!”

“Come on, we've known each other forever. We can talk about sex. Especially when it's bashing you ex douche bag.” I give in, knowing I can't really say no to him. I sigh before bringing my legs to sit with them under me.

“Once and I didn't...you know so he figured I didn't like it...truth is it was awful.”

“So foreplay consisted of what?” Sam asks moving to sit against the headboard.

“Nothing really. Some dry humping, light fingering but only enough to make sure I was ready for the main event.” I shrug.

“You're kidding me right? Did you ever give him head as foreplay?”

“Yeah, all the time.”

“And yet he wouldn't go down on you.”

“I don't know, the sex was never amazing.” I sigh

“Yeah sounds like it.” Sam huffs “So what? You had to finish yourself off?”

I nod “Usually after he'd gone to bed or in the shower.”

“So you haven't had an orgasm that wasn't given to yourself since you've been with that asshole?”

“Hum, I guess not.” I hadn't really thought of it like that to be honest.

“How did you survive?”

“A bit dramatic Sam but, I had toys to help. Was quite fond of my vibrator for quick but if I had the time...I dragged out the Bruce.” I admit, not knowing why I couldn't stop the word vomit coming out of my mouth. Sam's eyebrows shoot up as he observed me.

“And Bruce is?” Sam asks licking his lips.

“Oh that's my nine inch dildo.” Was I really about to talk about my toy collection with my best friend and secret crush? Guess I am.

“And it was bigger than Mikey?” He asks eyes not leaving mine

“Oh yeah by a lot.” I don't look away from his eyes. What the hell is going on?

“So he was small and bad in bed?”

I nod still not looking away from the hunter before me. Something in the air as we stay looking at each other. Something in his eyes I haven't seen when he looks at me. No one says anything as we just openly check out each other.

“So...why did you stay with him?” He asks, voice soft.

“Honestly?” I pause finally breaking eye contact, eyes trained on my hands in my lap. “I was trying to get over a guy that'd never feel the same.”

“How do you know he'd never feel the same?”

I looking up “I'm not good enough for him.”

“Maybe he thinks the same...and that's why he never showed any interest?”

“Why would he think that? He could have anyone he wants?” I ask understanding we're dancing around our feelings.

“Maybe the woman he wanted was with someone else and he thought he'd never get his chance.”

“Maybe the guy she was with messed up and he does get his chance after all.” “What if he's scared to take that chance?” I can see the hesitation in his features as he eyes me. I smile slowly crawling over to sit in front of him.

“Maybe he doesn't have to be the one to take the chance.” I smirk before climbing in his lap, legs on either side on his slim hips. His hands grasp my hips quickly. “

Y/N.” Sam starts looking down at me.

“D-did did I read the situation wrong?” I ask suddenly insecure at my bold assumption that it was, in fact, me he was talking about. “Not at all...I just want to make sure that we are on the same page here.” The fear leaving my mind as I understand he wants us to be opened about our feelings rather than continuing to dance around them. “I'm in love with you. Have been since that salt and burn two years ago.” I smile “Dean was hurt and couldn't go with you, it was the first hunt we did just us.”

Sam smiles “Yeah, I remember that hunt. I dragged it out so that I could spend more time with you, but when I realized I loved you is when you almost died on that werewolf hunt...If Cas wasn't there...”

“Don't think like that Sam. I'm alive.” He doesn't respond instead he presses his lip against mine. We both smile into the kiss before he pulls away resting his forehead on mine “I love you.” “I love you too.”

“Be mine?”

“I always was.”

#sam winchester imagine #supernatural imagine #spn imagine

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bittysvalentines · 5 years ago

Text

growing on me

From: @poindextears

To: @starryeyed-cat

Rating: T, for allusions to sex but nothing on-page

Hi lovely person! There's a part 2 to this fic, because apparently I'm out of control. When I see it go up on ao3 on the 14th, I will send you the link via tumblr. Until then, here's part 1! I hope you enjoy this fluff :)

May

The best thing about the new apartment is that there’s a garden behind the building.

It’s not the main reason Will chose to move here, exactly. But it did have some bearing on his decision. His old apartment was tiny, on the fourth floor of the complex, tucked into a dark corner with poor lighting and roaches and a leaky ceiling. He couldn’t so much as keep a houseplant alive in that place, much less any good spirits.

But for two years after college, it was all he could afford at his entry-level salary. His raise last fall put him in a better spot, and it led to this— renting out the bottom floor of a small house on the southwest side of Boston. The landlord says there’s another tenant moving in upstairs in about two weeks, but for now, Will enjoys the peace and quiet, the building all to himself. It has actual windows and floor space and sanitation that would pass inspection.

And… a garden out back.

It’s not the most lush thing in the world. If he could even call the area out back a backyard, it’s right in the center, amidst dingy grass full of brown patches that could use a proper irrigation system. The thing itself is a square patch of dirt, not the best soil but something he can definitely work with. It’s no more than ten feet across.

It’s not much. But if working in Boston means he can’t have the forest or the wide open sea or the yard his parents worked so hard to upkeep around the house he grew up in… then he can have a little garden.

So he resolves to bring the thing back to life.

It’ll be a vegetable garden, he decides, just like Ma always plants by the shed in the summer, because if there’s one thing that’s nice, it’s not having to buy your produce. He can envision it now— tomatoes on the left, cucumbers and summer squash under them, snap peas in the center, maybe autumn squash or pumpkins on the right side in a few weeks.

It’s the perfect summer project. When you spend all day working in front of a computer, a little dose of the outdoors in the afternoons is a nice balance.

He plants on a Saturday afternoon, donning his old work boots and a backwards snapback and stationing himself out back with Shep, who ambles around enjoying the mellow sun and napping on the patchy grass.

Shep is an Australian shepherd, or at least that’s what Will is pretty sure he is. Will adopted him by accident, after finding him on the street. His old apartment was no place for a dog, but he couldn’t stand to turn him into the shelter. It was another factor in his wanting to move out as soon as possible.

He’s shaking cucumber seeds into his dirt-stained hand when Shep lets out a little bark, not so much an alert noise but a happy one. Will grins as he hears him trot by, towards the house, and doesn’t look up from his seeds. “What’s up, Shep?”

But then, a voice. “‘Sup, doggy.”

Will whips his head over his shoulder, fearing for a moment that someone is trespassing on the property, but almost immediately he remembers the sounds of people going up and down the stairs this morning. The second tenant has moved in.

And here he is. After giving Shep a pat on the head, he makes his way across the yard and stops a few feet away.

“Oh, chill,” he says, laying eyes on Will for the first time. “Is this garden spoken for?”

Oh, no.

He’s beautiful.

He’s tall, probably about Will’s size, and looks his age, too. He has light-brown skin that makes his lavender t-shirt look bright, and he wears a floral snapback atop an undercut that ends in floppy, dark curls. He has a jawline that could cut glass, and both of his arms are covered in sleeves of tattoos, mostly of what look like flowers.

He’s… holy shit. Will is not mentally equipped to process this right now. He’s not sure he’s ever seen a prettier man in his life.

It only occurs to Will after what must be a slightly awkward few seconds that the guy has asked him a question, though. Is this garden spoken for? He tries to clear his throat, like he hasn’t just been staring blankly for the past several moments. “Some of it is.”

“Are you…” The guy pauses to scratch behind his neck, which is really not fucking fair, because it means he has to flex his tattooed arm. And he’s, um. He’s jacked. “... planning on using the some of it that isn’t?”

Will really hopes his face isn’t red. He weighs the implications of what the guy is asking, surveys the part of the garden he’s reserved for squash. If this guy wants to use the garden… so much for squash.

“I mean,” he says finally, “not if you want to use it.”

“Oh, chill,” says the guy, strolling the rest of the way up to him. He sweeps his eyes over Will’s patches of upturned soil and empty seed packets. “What are you planting?”

Will exhales. “Vegetables, mostly.”

The guy calculates for a second, then walks around the empty side of the plot. “Are you cool if I do flowers on the other side?” He spreads his hands out over the space like he can already imagine it. “Wildflowers, a trellis or two, maybe a rosebush.”

Truthfully, Will is not ‘cool’ with this. He doesn’t want to share the garden. He especially doesn’t want to share the garden with a beautiful hipster man who wears floral snapbacks and has sleeve tattoos. He wants to plant squash. He was not informed that his new neighbor was, apparently, also a gardening person, not to mention the most beautiful man in Boston.

As much as he wants to say no, he’s not cool with it, he also knows that there’s this thing called common human decency, and that they’re both tenants on the same house, and that, unfortunately, this garden technically belongs to both of them.

“That’s fine.”

The guy grins. His smile, infuriatingly, is just as gorgeous as the rest of him. His eyes are light— green or hazel, maybe. “Chill.”

Will is pretty sure he’s said chill three times in the past five minutes, which is way too many times.

The guy kneels at the edge of the dirt. Shep, meanwhile, lies down next to the spot he’s chosen, among Will’s empty seed packets. Will pauses for a second, and he wonders if the guy will leave without entertaining further conversation. When he’s still looking at the garden after a moment, Will’s curiosity (and gay frustration) gets the better of him. “Are you the other renter?”

“Oh— yeah, sorry; yeah, I am,” he says, then adds, “I’m Derek. I just got here this morning.”

“Yeah, I heard you moving your boxes,” Will replies. “I’m Will. I live downstairs.”

Derek reaches to pat Shep on the head. “Is this your dog?”

“Yeah, that’s Shep.” Will pauses. Shep closes his eyes as Derek scratches his ears, like it’s an incredibly zen experience. Will adds, as if it were not obvious, “He’s friendly.”

“Hey, Shep.” Derek smiles. He has nice hands. “You’re a fluffy guy.”

Quiet falls in the backyard for a moment. Will mourns the loss of his prospective future squash. Derek smiles vaguely at the stolen patch of dry dirt.

“Well,” he mumbles. “I should probably get unpacking, but hey, it was nice to meet you.” He stands up, and when he smiles at Will, Will feels his stomach do an entire acrobatic routine. Fuck, he’s beautiful. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, uh—” Will clears his throat again. He really really really hopes he’s not blushing. “You, too. Nice to meet you.”

Little does he know that this is only the start.

June

Derek plants in, like, four stages.

Will doesn’t understand his process, but he keeps seeing him outside, walking back and forth between the staircase that leads down from his apartment to the garden. He plants from seed, like Will does, except for this one time he carries a mini rosebush across the yard and puts it in the corner next to Will’s tomatoes. He puts a little wire trellis in the center, and his saplings start popping up about a week after Will’s do.

Will successfully avoids talking to him for a little while, aside from the occasional hello when leaving for work in the morning or when their watering times overlap. This is good, because avoiding talking to Derek means avoiding doing something stupid and embarrassing himself.

Then, one warm afternoon in early June, he lets Shep out and sees him go straight up to Derek, who’s watering his rosebush.

Will sighs from his open window. He could use to water anyways.

“Hey, Will.” Derek waves when he approaches, and Shep, thankfully, turns back from the enemy’s side to bound up to Will. “‘Sup?”

“Not much.” Derek is wearing a sun hat and Birkenstocks, and his curls blow in the gentle breeze. He’s ethereal, like a male Persephone. “Just came down to water.”

Will cringes at himself. Of course he’s here to water. He’s holding a watering can.

“Same.” Derek grins, ignoring Will’s stupidity. Will kind of wants to die, but he starts on his cucumber and tomato mounds anyway.

Just be calm. Be cool. He’s just a hot neighbor.

“So, new neighbor,” Derek says, all bravado. “I feel incomplete. I’ve shared a garden with you for two weeks and I don’t know anything about you.”

Will shrugs. “You know my name.”

Derek snorts. “Okay, Mr. Technical. Where are you from?”

“Maine.”

“Like, beach Maine or middle of nowhere Maine?”

“Northern coast Maine.” Will pauses, and almost feels a pang. He hasn’t been home since Christmas, and he misses it. “Near Bar Harbor.”

“Oh.” Derek pauses, then kind of snorts again. “It’s bold of you to assume I know where that is.”

“Well, where are you from?”

“New York,” Derek says, which, really, Will should have been able to guess. “City, not state. I just moved up here.”

“Why did you move to Boston?”

“Work.” Derek pauses, then smiles at his rosebush. “I’m a magazine editor, but I just got promoted, so I relocated to the main office up here.”

“What kind of magazine?” Will asks, for no other reason but curiosity.

“Northeast Lawn and Garden.”

Oh my God. Will might be actually blushing now. “Wait, seriously?”

Derek grins. The brim of his hat casts a shadow over his face. “You’ve heard of it?”

“Of course I’ve heard of it,” he replies. “My ma has been subscribed to that magazine since, like, 1995.” And so have I, since I moved out, he thinks, but he doesn’t say it.

Derek laughs into the blue sky, and it’s a sweet sound. “Hey, that’s chill. I’m glad she enjoys it.”

There’s a brief quiet between them, and Will could choose this moment to leave. His watering is technically done— the garden is so small that it’s low-maintenance— but there’s something about Derek that keeps him, something enticing that wills him not to go just yet.

Besides, it’s not like he has anything better to do.

So when Derek asks, “So what do you do?”, he keeps the conversation going.

July

The drive from home in Maine to Boston is long.

Four and a half hours, actually, and although he gets up bright and early at his parents’ house to come home this morning, it doesn’t go by any more quickly than it has in the past. He’s been visiting for the Fourth of July, and even though his brother and a few of his cousins can be prejudiced assholes, he loves his parents, and it feels nice to be home, to be someplace not quite so lonely.

When he and Shep get back to the apartment, it’s high noon, and Derek is outside in the garden.

Will discovers this because he goes to water his plants. They’re getting bigger every day, flourishing in the summer heat, but they’re also super thirsty all the time. Derek is in the same boat— he’s put in wildflowers and a hydrangea and his rosebush and his climbing things. The garden is a tangled mess, and it’s full of weeds.

Except the thing is… Derek is outside today, and… he has no business looking as good as he does.

His shirt, for starters, is a tank top, which leaves little to the imagination when it comes to his arms with all their muscle and ink. He’s also in running shorts, and his weird sun hat, and his skin shines in the sun, and he’s… he’s a lot.

Will has talked to his neighbor, has gotten to know him a little when they’re both out here gardening at the same time. He has managed not to let his annoyance about sharing the garden be his guiding principle with regard to their interpersonal relationship. But still… Jesus fucking Christ. Derek is too much for him to handle.

He pulls his window open, and Derek seems to hear the sound, because he looks up from his flowers and waves.

“Will!” He smiles. “Hey, welcome home, dude! How was Maine?”

“It was fine.” Will pauses, tries to steady himself and maybe not just gape at the fact that he looks so fucking hot oh my God stop being such a gay disaster please focus. “How was your week?”

“Super chill.” Derek stands and steps back from the garden. “Hey, you should come down here. You have a ton of flowers on your tomato plant.”

Shep paws at the door that leads to the backyard, as if to accentuate Derek’s invitation.

You know what? Fine. He needs to water anyway.

That’s it. Will is going to kill his neighbor.

Derek may be beautiful, but sharing this garden is not working out. Will’s beloved snap pea plants, having climbed the trellis, are starting to choke out before they bear actual snap peas. And the reason is that Derek’s sweet pea flowers are wrapping around them, turning them brown, tearing the life out of them.

“Derek!”

Derek pokes his curly head out the window of his apartment. “Are you seriously yelling at me from the backyard?”

Will whirls around on his heel. “Your sweet peas are choking out my snap peas!”

Derek snorts. “You’re the one whose plants hijacked my trellis, bro.”

“But they’re—” Will sifts through the plants gingerly, tries to distinguish between the flowered plant and the vegetable one. “They’re dying!”

“Uh, ch’yeah, because you’re encroaching on their territory.”

“The snap peas are dying, not the sweet peas.” Will lets out an anguished sigh. “And the plants were so big—”

Derek, in his window, leans his cheek into his hand. He looks like a noblewoman in a play, in her castle while her suitor confesses his love from the streets below. “Looks like this garden just ain’t big enough for the two of us, Poindexter.”

Will groans again. “You’re an asshole,” he says. While Derek laughs at him from above, he points at him menacingly. “And if my peas die, I’m blaming you for it.”

“I’ll happily take the blame,” Derek replies. “But they’re not gonna die.”

“Yeah.” Will bristles. “We’ll see.”

August

The peas don’t die.

Nothing does, actually. The flowers and the vegetables grow into each other, sure, but it’s more like reluctant cohabitation than beautiful cooperation. He and Derek work around each other well into the produce season, and Will vows never to agree to share the garden again. It’s a terrible idea. Derek’s flowers are everywhere, and there could’ve been so much more room for vegetables had he claimed the whole thing before he showed up.

The upside is getting to talk to him. He guesses.

Sunset is getting earlier, but tonight, Will heads out to gather tomatoes at golden hour. Derek is sitting in the grass next to his flowers, in his floral snapback, not really working in the garden but not leaving either. If anything, he’s soaking up the sun.

“Your tomatoes are huge,” Derek says, in lieu of a greeting. “They’re shading my rose.”

Will rolls his eyes and pulls a huge beefsteak off the vine. “The sun is on that side of the yard for half the day.”

“Oh, I’m impressed, not annoyed,” he replies. He looks down at something in his hands— he’s weaving a chain of his wildflowers together, by the stems.

He seems to notice Will studying what he’s doing, so he adds, “I’m making a flower crown.”

Will almost rolls his eyes again, but restrains himself. It’s exactly the kind of hippie shit he’d expect from Derek.

“Do you want one?” Derek continues. “You’d look cute.”

Will fully blushes. He yanks a tomato, hard, and nearly knocks over his entire plant and stake in the process. “No.”

“Okay.” Derek smiles, without a care in the world, and pulls his hat off to put the flower chain on his head. It looks, of course, perfect on him. “Then you can wear my hat.”

Will pauses with his hand in his cherry tomato stalk. “Beg your pardon?”

“Here.” Derek tosses him his snapback, and it lands in the grass by his feet. Then he adds, like it means nothing, “Bet it’d look good on you.”

Will has ascertained that Derek is bi— half because he has a shirt he said he got at NYC Pride that says pretty fly for a bi guy in purple, blue, and pink, and half because he flirts with Will and then pretends like he’s not flirting. Will hasn’t disclosed his sexuality yet, for this reason. For all he knows, Derek could be like this with everyone else in his life.

He’s not in the business of getting hurt by pretty boys, especially not when they share a garden and a building with him.

“C’mon,” Derek urges, still smiling. “Just try it.”

Will bends over and picks up the hat. It’s white, with florals in pink and yellow and green. When he puts it on backwards, Derek falls into the grass and whistles.

“Wow,” he sighs at the afternoon sky. “I was right.”

“I’m keeping this,” Will says, matter-of-factly.

Derek beams. His flower crown falls crooked, daisies and cosmos and nasturtium among his curls. Will wants to kiss him, but can’t and doesn’t. “Be my guest.”

September

It’s September, and the grass is green.

Will is picking the very last of the tomatoes off his vines. Some of them aren’t quite ripe yet, but rumor has it the season’s first frost could come tonight, and he doesn’t want to take any chances. While he’s piling them into a basket, he hears movement behind him, and he doesn’t even have to turn to know Derek is there.

“Hey, Will.”

“Hi.” Will pauses. The tomato he pulls next is completely green. “How’s it going?”

“It’s chill.” Derek sidles up next to him and investigates the tomatoes. Today, he’s in a cardigan, like he’s anticipating the cold. “Taking the last of the goods?”

“Yeah, I have to,” Will replies. “Or else the frost’ll get ‘em.”

“I know what you mean.” Derek gazes at his end of the plot. “I cut my last few bouquets earlier.”

Will glances at him sideways. “Do you, like, give them to people?”

He shakes his head. “No one to give ‘em to.” He pauses. “There’s one on my desk at work, then two in my apartment.” He folds his arms and looks at Will’s basket of green tomatoes, then meets his eyes and adds, “You could have one, though. If you wanted.”

Will chuckles. “I’m okay.”

“Well, the offer stands if you change your mind.”

Derek stands with him while he finishes gathering the tomatoes. He picks them slowly, like dragging out this small task will maximize on the time Derek chooses to spend with him before they both retreat into their apartments again.

Like always.

“So your last harvest,” Derek says. “Are you sad?”

Will shrugs. “No. Seasons change every year.”

“Yeah, I like the fall,” he replies, then nudges his arm a little as they walk back toward the building. “But hey, this might mean we won’t see as much of each other.”

“We live a floor away from each other,” Will mumbles, which. Are they friends? He’s pretty sure they are. They’ve spent an entire summer bickering and chatting and bonding over this garden. Derek even flirts with him. But he’s pretty sure friends-slash-neighbors is all they’ll ever be.

“I guess.” Derek pauses. Will hoists his tomatoes under his arm, and they meet eyes, and for a moment, Derek is looking back at him and Will’s stomach is butterflies.

He opens his mouth to say goodnight. And at the same time, Derek says, “Do you… wanna come upstairs for dinner or something?”

Dear giftee, there is a part 2 to this! Stay tuned and I’ll make sure you get it.

#dexnursey #bv2020 #bitty's valentines #omgcp fandom #omg check please!

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fanf1cshawn · 6 years ago

Text

skies and stars

the last plate was placed in the dishwasher and you bob your head to the beat of particular taste, the song filling the room. you can't help but dance, so you sway your hips to the song until you heard a deep laugh from behind you. shawn was sprawled out on the soft couch as he filmed you, immediately posting the short clip onto his instagram story. he drops his phone on the couch and runs up to you, quickly sweeping you off the floor.

"bub!" you squeal as you playfully hit his chest, making him laugh. you wrap your arms around his neck and he places a kiss on your forehead. a smile spreads across your face as you lean into his chest, trying to hide the blush that was already spreading on your cheeks.

he carries you all the way to the walk in closet, setting you down on the marble counter that held his and your precious jewelry. although you tell him not to get you those kind of things, he still did. you remember the last time he bought the two of you matching cartier love rings, and you were quite shocked to see it in front of you. he always told you that you shouldn't be worried about him spending the money, because like he said 'i have millions of dollars in my bank account and i'd rather spend it all on you'.

he pulls out his ysl hoodie and slips it onto his body, fitting him perfectly. it was oversized but not too much, adding that chill look to it. he walks around the counter to your side of the closet, flipping through your numerous pieces of clothing. he chose a yellow dress with a wrap around it and handed it to you.

"what is this all about?" you giggle, taking the dress from him. he smiles and turns to you again, holding a pair of white flats.

"you'll see." he winks. you take another look at him and can't help but smile at his cute little antics.

you take off his large shirt off of your body as shawn eyes the white band of your bra that had the words 'calvin klein' printed on it.

"looks like you could do a calvin klein campaign too, eh?" you chuckle in unison as you shake your head. you tie the wrap of the dress into a neat knot and sit down on the floor to put on the flats. you stood up again, straightening out the small creases of the dress. you look up at him only to see his hazel eyes staring back at you in awe, a pink blush coating his cheeks.

"now can you tell me where we're going?" you ask, hoping that he'd finally tell you. he shakes his head as his curls were flying all over the place, making it look messy.

you run your fingers through his hair, putting it back in place. him being the playful boyfriend that he is, he pulled out a single strand of hair, just to add that extra charm to him.

"nope." he teases, taking your hand in his, leading you to the front door. you sigh, giving up, knowing that you'll never be able to force the answer out of him.

"stay here." he says, quickly running back to the shared bedroom. he comes back with the keys in his hand, making a faint sound. you head out of the apartment as he leads you to the parking space of the apartment complex. he presses the unlock door on the key fob, sprinting to the jeep to open the door for you.

"why thank you." you smile, climbing in the jeep. he soon follows and minutes later, you were on the road to you don't know where.

you couldn't help but admire the tall buildings of toronto through the window of the black jeep. all of a sudden, you feel shawn's hand trace random shapes on your thigh. instead, you held his hand in yours and comfortable silence filled the vehicle for a few minutes.

"do you wanna be the dj today?" he asks, referring to the radio. you two took turns in playing music in the car, so you gladly accepted the offer. you scroll through the selection of songs on your phone, finally making the decision to play queen by your boyfriend. he smiles as his fingers tapped to rhythm of his music against the steering wheel.

"who made you the queen?" you sang in unison, smiles spread across each other's face. for every finished song played a new one, and the two of you sang your hearts out to all the lyrics; too much to the point shawn didn't even notice that he already went past the place he wanted to take you.

he took a turn as a nervous laugh left his lips, mumbling the words oh my god over and over again. you snicker and he rolls his eyes at you playfully.

"stop laughing at me, babe!" he laughs, finally pulling up into the single parking spot. he shuts the car down and runs over to your door, opening it for you. he holds out his hand to help you step out of the jeep.

"so now can i know where we are?" you were confused since there was literally nobody else other than you and shawn.

"oh fine. c'mere, love." he motions his hand for you to come forward and you did.

your jaw drops at the small setup before you. a huge picnic blanket was laid out beautifully on the grass, a few pillows spread on top of it. fairylights surrounded the blanket, giving off a warm glow. you pull shawn to the cozy layout and give him the tightest hug you've ever given a human being. he rubs your back gently, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

"so you know how we always drink our tea in the balcony of my apartment at like 1am and you look up at the sky, gushing over the stars and what not? well, i decided that instead of doing that on my balcony again, i thought of taking you out here instead." a blush crept up your cheeks and your swear you felt your heart physically skip a beat. you couldn't believe how thoughtful and loving he was, the fact that people like him still exist.

you slowly walk over to the blanket, just noticing the rose petals scattered all over the place. you smile, remembering the first ever bouqet of roses that shawn gave you on your first anniversary. you sit down on the banket, quite surprised at how soft it actually was. shawn silently sat next to you, looking up at the sky. you lean your head on his shoulder and you feel him pull you tighter to him.

"this place looks absolutely stunning, shawn." you whisper, still amazed by the adorable act your boyfriend has done for you.

"it looks more stunning with you in it, love." you roll your eyes and laugh, flustered by his words.

"let's lay down, shall we?" shawn suggests, grabbing one long pillow for the both of you to share. as soon as you laid down, you place your head on top of his chest and your arm over his torso.

"i don't know why, but the sky looks prettier tonight."

"you always say that, y/n." he grins and you nod in agreement.

"hey shawn?"

"yes, darling?" the brunette looked down at you, a calm tone escaping his lips.

"i love you so so so so much. words can never express how much love i have for you, neither can my actions do. you deserve all the love the world holds. i still can't process the fact that i was able to find such a loving, caring, and awesome guy like you." you felt his heart beat faster and you pause for a moment before continuing.

"the only reason i like the sky and the stars is because of you, shawn." you confessed.

"how come i'm the reason you like the sky and the stars?" he asked curiously.

"because of the stars that were spread on the sky when i met you. i know for sure that those were my lucky stars, otherwise i wouldn't be with you today."

"it's like the stars were aligning." you say at the same time, making the two of you smile.

"i wish i could fly up to the sky right this instant to say thank you because with them, i was able to meet my own star that brightened up my dark sky." as cheesy as it sounded, you meant it, and you were only able to croak out the last few words.

"oh come here." shawn pulled you tightly in his arms and looked at you with eyes full of love. to him, you were the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. he never would've thought that such a gorgeous girl could have the most beautiful heart as well. from the moment he first said hi, he knew that he didn't want to let go of you. ever.

"i love you too, y/n. sooooo much." he smiled, as he held his beloved star tightly in between his arms.

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author’s note: soooo i’m back! i’m sorry i haven’t posted in like forever but yeah i hope you like this. ~ i wanna write more this week too, so go and watch out ‘cause i might be uploading a lot this week. <3

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes one shots

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sincerelycreek · 7 years ago

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it’s cold outside but warm with you

Summary: It’s too cold outside for Tweek to wander home, and Craig wasn’t going to allow him to leave. Warnings: mean parents ig?? and terrible writing A/N: i know the song isn’t based off christmas day but whatever

❛❛i really can’t stay - ❜❜ ❛❛but baby, it’s cold outside.❜❜ ❛❛i’ve got to go away - ❜❜ ❛❛but baby, it’s cold outside.❜❜ ❛❛this evening has been -.❜❜ ❛❛been hoping you’d drop in.❜❜ ❛❛so very nice.❜❜ ❛❛i’ll hold your hands, they’re just like ice.❜❜

There were so many parts to Christmas. There was eating a large meal after thanking the God you believed in, spending time with your family, and waking up early on Christmas morning to see beautifully wrapped presidents under an even prettier decorated tree. That’s, for the most part, how Tweek and Craig’s day went. After Craig, plus Tweek, and his family finished eating a large dinner, Craig’s family left to visit their parents. Even though Tricia begged to stay home, they dragged her along, to give the two high school boys their privacy.

After swapping their presents for one another, they laid back on the couch together and were watching Elf. Craig laid back, and Tweek was over him, with his ear pressed to his boyfriend’s chest and listening to the beat of his heart. Craig felt warm, like a heater underneath the pressure of Tweek and the blanket. Tweek took advantage of that, digging himself closer, and pressing his ice like hands and feet to Craig’s warm skin. He was surprised that the other hadn’t flinched at the hot skin to cold skin contact.

They were silent, the movie being watched yet ignored, as the couple enjoyed each other’s company. The pair were usually always together, attached to the hip since fourth grade, but this was a special holiday to them both.

One the movie ended, and the childish winter credits started rolling, Craig felt Tweek began moving out of the heavy arm Craig had around him. His eyes flickered to him in confusion as he moved the blanket off the two of them. “Where are you going? It’s snowing like crazy out there,” he spoke, his voice nasally but almost worried like.

“Home,” Tweek answered like it was plain simple. He sat up on the couch, grabbing his boots on the floor and slipping them on before lacing them up, a sudden twitch taking over as he tried to tie a perfect knot with his hands starting to shake from the focus.

“Babe, no,” Craig practically groaned. He sat up two, before leaning heavily on Tweek’s side to keep him from getting up and getting his jacket. He was ready to hang on Tweek with all of his body weight and keep him from walking out the door. “Don’t leave. It’s cold.”

“Honey,” Tweek mocked, copying Craig’s tone. “I have to go home. I don’t live that far, and you know I don’t get cold that easy.”

Before Craig could respond,Tweek was quick to pull away. Unexpecting it, Craig almost fell face forward on the couch. Tweek smiled to himself at the sight, picking his jacket off the arm of the couch. “Thank you, for dinner.”

When Tweek leaned down to give Craig a goodbye kiss, Craig dodged it and grabbed Tweek by his unzipped jacket before pulling him down on top of him once more. Tweek, now the surprised one, let out a squeak as he fell. “You’re cold now,” Craig murmured under his breath in argument, when Tweek protested and tried to squirm out of the tight grip. “I’ll hold you.”

“You’re so stupid.”

❛❛my mother will start to worry - ❜❜ ❛❛beautiful, what’s your hurry?❜❜ ❛❛father will be pacing the floor - ❜❜ ❛❛listen to the fireplace roar.❜❜ ❛❛so really, i’d better scurry -.❜❜ ❛❛beautiful, please don’t hurry.❜❜ ❛❛maybe just half a drink more - ❜❜ ❛❛put some records on while i pour.❜❜

After twenty minutes, of Craig and Tweek back in their position from before with Tweek still wearing his boots and jacket, Tweek rolled his eyes and began to protest against being held once more. “You know how my mom and dad are, man,” he argued, with a well point. Tweek didn’t love his parents, not a lot for how they treated him as a kid, but they’d still be worried if he wasn’t home in the time they gave him.

Craig didn’t tear his gaze away from Tweek’s hazel eyes. He felt warmer than before, as it was finally quiet, and he could really hear the crackle of the fireplace that was the reason for their warmth of the house. “You don’t have to leave, not now,” he offered.

Tweek still hadn’t look convinced about staying for awhile longer, anxious by the idea of his parents upset still lingering in the back of his head, so Craig tried something else. “What about a drink? Dad still keeps it locked away poorly.”

That had certainly caught Tweek’s attention. He drummed his fingers against Craig’s chest to the beat of his heart pumping, thinking in silence before nodding in agreement. “Half,” he finally said. “If I show up to dinner - ngh - hiccuping, mom and dad will kill me.”

Nodding back, Craig eased Tweek off his chest and sat up, eager to get a drink even if it was small and keep Tweek there as long as he could. It wasn’t just the fact that it was snowing heavily, and Tweek who insisted on walking could get cold, but it was the meaning of seeing his love longer on a special holiday about spending time with the ones you love. “Take off your jacket and put on some music, babe.”

“You hate holiday music,” Tweek argued, watching as Craig walked off to what he assumed to be where his father hid their alcohol. He didn’t miss how Craig smiled over his shoulder, and couldn’t help but smile back fondly.

❛❛the neighbors might think - ❜❜ ❛❛baby, it’s bad out there.❜❜ ❛❛say, what’s in this drink?❜❜ ❛❛no cabs to be had out there.❜❜ ❛❛i wish i knew how -.❜❜ ❛❛your eyes are like starlight now.❜❜ ❛❛to break this spell - ❜❜ ❛❛i’ll take your hat, you hair looks swell.❜❜

With the soft holiday music Tweek chose on the radio playing in the background, they were back to sitting on the couch. Instead of laying on top of Craig, Tweek had his head lolled onto the other’s shoulder in comfort. He wasn’t drunk, not even tipsy, but he felt nice. Better than he has in a long time. Tweek wasn’t even the slightest bit anxious, as he usually felt with Craig. “I need to go,” he finally whispered. “But I don’t want to.”

“Hm,” Craig hummed in agreement. “You shouldn’t. It’s going to get worse out there.” He nudged Tweek until he picked his head up, this time, looking at each other.

Craig saw his eyes in an entirely different light now, maybe it was the drink they shared but if it was possible, they looked even better. It was as if the fire somehow was illuminating them, making them shine brighter and making Craig’s heart skip a beat in his chest. “Fuck. I love your eyes, honey.”

Tweek couldn’t bite the smile back, nor fight the tinted red that crept up his neck and nestled into his cheeks. “You’re such a loser,” he teased, despite the fluttering in his chest. “I love you, so much. How do I get out of that?” He asked, still joking, as he cupped the side of Craig’s face and leaned in to kiss him.

It lasted for a second, before Craig pulled back, but not far. His breath was still hot on Tweek’s mouth. “You don’t,” he spoke honestly. “Want to take your jacket off now? Please?”

❛❛i ought to say no, no, no - ❜❜ ❛❛mind if i move in closer?❜❜ ❛❛at least i’m gonna say that i tried - ❜❜ ❛❛what’s the sense in hurting my pride?❜❜ ❛❛i really can’t stay -.❜❜ ❛❛baby, don’t hold out.❜❜

Hesitantly, Tweek brought his hand up to play with the zipper of the jacket he already zipped up. He should flat out say no and leave, he knew that. His parents were already probably upset with him, but Tweek wasn’t ready to leave. Not yet.

Craig hadn’t bothered asking, leaning closer and closing the gap between them as he kissed Tweek again. “Please?” He asked again, softer and more affectionate. “I want to be with you longer.”

Well, when he puts it like that.

Tweek slowly caved. He started unzipping his jacket, believing that he tried and his parents would have to try and understand. He’d rather be with Craig, honestly. On a holiday that was about spending time with the people you love, it made more sense to stay. He’d feel a longing at home anyways, so let his parents be mad. Tweek shrugged off the rest of his jacket and threw it carelessly.

The jacket was thrown away along with all of Tweek’s morals. It was such a nice feeling, not to care, for once, all for Craig. He picked up his cup that still had some in the bottom and finished it off, before curling up next to Craig again.

“How can you do this to me?” Tweek whispered, his voice almost muffled from being buried in Craig’s Nasa shirt. Craig hummed in confusion, asking for more of an explanation. “How do you have this much effect on me? How do I stay so calm with you?”

Tweek felt Craig lean down and kiss the top of his head. “Because you love me, baby. And I’ll keep you safe.”

❛❛there’s bound to be talk tomorrow - ❜❜ ❛❛think of my lifelong sorrow.❜❜ ❛❛at least there will be plenty implied - ❜❜ ❛❛if you caught pneumonia and died.❜❜ ❛❛i really can’t stay - ❜❜ ❛❛get over that hold out.❜❜

“You know, my parents are going to be pissed at me,” Tweek announced after a beat of silence. “That I-I missed dinner and all.”

“Sucks for them,” Craig retorted. Tweek felt his hand lift and run through the soft knots of his blonde hair. Tweek was warmer than Craig, the heat keeping him warmer than any heater in the house ever had. Maybe it was the coffee, or maybe Tweek was happy. Actually, there was no maybe. Craig knew Tweek was. He was too.

Tweek grinned to himself. Craig was right. It did suck for them. Tweek left his phone in his jacket’s pocket, for all he knew it was dead, so if they were trying to get ahold of them - which he doubted - it wasn’t easy. He wouldn’t leave now even if they somehow managed to get ahold of him. They probably had the table set, complete with coffee, but Tweek was the one who was in a winning position because he was with someone who made his heart full of adoration.

“Can you imagine if you actually went out?” Craig asked, his voice still nasal but more monotone than normal. “What if you.. Like.. Got really cold?” He continued, pausing in between words as if he was thinking them through.

“You sound like me,” Tweek responded, slightly mumbling in reply, but not annoyed. “I wouldn’t have died. I’m not always cold.”

“You were earlier,” Craig pointed out. “Your hands were like fucking ice.” He craned his neck to look at Tweek to continue speaking. “What if you left then, and you like, froze to death?”

Tweek hummed, thinking about it. If this was a conversation under any other circumstance, such as at school or not on a calming holiday, he would have started panicking about what could have been. If the snow and wind outside was really enough to make him cold enough to die in on the way home. “Do you really think it’s that cold?” Tweek asked, much more curious than he was anxious.

“Fine, do you want to know? Put on your jacket. Let’s go.”

❛❛baby, it’s cold outside.❜❜

“Fucking.. Forget it.” Tweek stood on Craig’s porch steps, his hands were gloveless and tucked under his armpits, crossed over his chest. Craig was having more fun, rolling snow that has already fallen into a ball with a smile. He wasn’t one to swear, especially on a day about love, but Craig really did have a different effect on him. “Let’s go back inside before we both d-die.”

Tweek watched as Craig lifted his hand, a perfect sculpted sphere being shown in his palm. “If you fucking do it, I’ll - “ Tweek started, warning Craig, who didn’t hesitate in interrupting him and throwing the snowball. Everyone could think Craig was this tough asshole, but Tweek knew his boyfriend was really a dork that pressed his buttons well.

The snow Craig threw, with well aim, hit Tweek in the cheek. He squeaked and stumbled back, the cold leaving a sting on his cheek. He looked up and glared, despite thinking Craig looked very cute standing in the middle of snow falling over him, with a stupid smile. “Fine, you want to see how cold it is?!” Tweek exclaimed, stomping down the porch steps and feeling the snow crunch beneath his feet.

Without hesitating, Tweek raced through the bundles of snow. He used all his body weight to slam into Craig, knocking them both down, with a surprised shout onto the soft pillow of snow beneath them. Tweek couldn’t help but start laughing.

Unexpectedly, Craig began laughing too. “Get off!” He exclaimed, loudly and happily in between his laughs. “You’re right! It’s freezing! I give up!”

“We’ll go back inside,” Tweek promised. “In a second.”

It was absolutely freezing outside. The cold seeped through their winter clothing, and the snow melted against Tweek bear hands, making them red, and having him curl his fingers inward into the sleeves of his jacket.

However, the chill of winter didn’t matter. Tweek had leaned down and pressed his mouth to Craig’s in a kiss full of warmth. It sent heat down both of them; but not in a sexual way. It was as if their souls warmed against each other despite the nipping cold biting at the both of them.

They did go back inside after that. After the cold really began to settle in and took over the warm adoration love. And no, Tweek didn’t go home that night. He sent his parents a simple message that he wasn’t, and chose to spend Christmas night curled into the side of Craig’s chest underneath a blanket, warm and happy.

#sp creek #creek #tweek x craig #creek fanfic #creek fanfiction #creek oneshot #my writing

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lunalyrisworld · 7 years ago

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The Naughty List - A Holiday Tag

@jennamoreci created this and tagged a every writer that wanted to participate so I thought this sounded cool.

THE RULES: 1) Write a brief description of your novel. NO MORE THAN 5 SENTENCES.

It is a high fantasy novel in a land divided. One half of the continent is Calaira a peaceful land of diverse cultures and full of magic and beauty. The other is a dark realm called Graviel and it is full of slavery run by a crazed, power hungry ruler. The story follows Devin, the heir to the throne of Calaira that hates being royal and Kayari, a refugee from Graviel who has been smuggling orphan children across the border. When they end stumbling into each other their lives are changed for better or worse.

2) If your cast is fewer than 15 characters, you can’t use the same name more than twice. If your cast is more than 15 characters, you can’t use the same name more than once.

Ok so lets do this!

THE QUESTIONS:

1) Which character is SO into the holidays they nearly cause a street wide power outage from all their Christmas lights?

That is definitely Ava. She is one of Devin’s little sisters and she has loved all things Christmas and would definitely end up getting all the guards and maids to gather every string of lights in castle which will probably burning out the magic generators in the whole castle since they aren’t used to so much electricity.

2) Which character goes to the office new years party with ONE date…and goes home with someone else?

I think I have to go with Kingsley. He is a soldier of Calaira’ highest divisiom of royal guard the Hellhounds and he is known as a huge player so he would probably go to the party with one beautiful maiden and then go home with one he thinks is even prettier.

3) Which character is more than happy to steal Hanukkah gelt from poor, unsuspecting children? [Note: Hanukkah gelt = chocolate coins]

That would be Kayari since she would definitely steal candy from the orphans she takes care of and you would probably think that it’s horrible to steal from orphan children, but she wouldn’t be doing out of malicious intent. She knows these kids so well it’s more like a parent going through their kid’s halloween candy while they aren’t looking.

4) Fill in the blanks: I saw _Oakley_ doing a whole lot more than _kissing_ Santa Claus. They were full on _f**king_. (I just had to go the obvious route because it amuses me) Oakley is the Castle’s head chef and I don’t think he would f**k the actual Santa, but I do see Arden who is one of the Hellhounds dressing up as Santa for the kids. Oakley would try just to kiss him while he was still in the costume and Arden pushing him into the nearest open room to do the nasty.

5) One of the characters decides to pregame before church and passes out in the middle of Christmas service?

Has to be Thaddeus. He is also a member of the Hellhounds and even though he is a great soldier he is also an insane partier on his free time.

6) Which character hasn’t been seen since the start of winter because they don’t want to deal with the snow?

Probably Hazel, Devin’s other little sister, because the cold just gives her another reason to curl up in her warm room with her towers of spellbooks.

7) Which character completely forgets about the holidays and ends up regifting to everyone?

Most likely Ciara, the Castle’s High Scholar, because she would be so focused on her work to realize that it was Christmas.

8) Which character has such crappy luck, they only discover their potato allergy after pigging out on latkes?

This one is hard but I think I have to go with Dalary who is a member of the “Pure Platoon” , the lowest division of the royal guard. She can be pretty clumsy and have some really bad luck at times which is kinda why she hasn’t moved up to a different division yet.

9)Krampus has arrived to punish your “very bad” characters. Which one is kinda into it?

I think that has got to be Kydall who is the only female Hellhound ( not really but that’s spoilery) and to the other members of the Hellhounds she is kind of a mystery since she doesn’t talk much, but I can totally so her as having a secret fetish for that kinda thing.

10) One of your characters should be on the naughty list, but has convinced Santa to clear their name. Which character is it, and what was their means of persuasion? I’m kinda breaking the rules since I have chosen two people but, they are kind of a packaged deal so I can’t chose one or the other. So I choose Ari and Addy who are twin orphans that Kayari took in a few years ago and they always like to play little tricks on the other kids and just generally cause havoc. Their persuasion would be just pure cuteness since they are adorable six year olds and would probably show Santa those sad puppy dog eyes to guilt him to clear their names.

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luffysfakebeard · 7 years ago

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hi!! i don't know if you're taking prompts (so if you're not, ignore this!!) but i saw a text post a trillion years ago that was like "imagine your otp meeting in a 7am lecture and one of them is pouring redbull into their coffee and looks straight at the other and says 'im going to die' and just drinks the whole thing" and ever since i started watching skam this reminded me of something isak would definitely do. aaaanywayyy, i love your fics, keep writing and being awesome!

The Study Buddy; 2070 words[AO3]

It was Even’s firm belief that whoever scheduled a guest speakerat 7.15AM on a Monday deserved to have hellfire rain down upon them. Hewasn’t even sure why he said he’d go; when one of his lecturer’s the previousThursday had told the class that there was a speaker on Monday that they mightfind interesting Even had made a note of it even though it was optional.

Maybe he was losing his mind. He had chosen to go to a 7.15 talk.

He couldn’t even remember what the lecturer had said it was about; just that it could be interestingand might help some of them gain some insight for their film projects. That had probably been what pushed him to go,because as much as Even loves his eight hours of sleep he wanted his film to beperfect more.

When Even walked into the lecture hall at almost 7.10 there wereabout a dozen students scattered around, which was honestly more than he wasexpecting to see. He chose a seatsomewhere in the middle and slumped down, quickly biting the inside of hischeek to silence the whine he wanted to let out.

The plastic chair was Baltic. Despite it being mid-November – in Norway– he was pretty sure that the heating wasn’t on yet. The pipes were creaking and groaning, though,and he realised that the heating was probably only just coming on now to get upto a pleasant temperature at 8AM when normal lecture times start.

Great. The guy in here after me will probably betoasty warm while I’ll be a fucking ice sculpture, Even thought sullenly. He was pretty sure he could feel his lips pushing into a grumpy pout asthe cold from the chair seeped through his clothes and bit at his skin.

He put his travel mug down on the floor and struggled out of hismittens – it was cold, alright? and everyoneknows that mittens are warmer than gloves Even will defend his mittens with hisdying breath – and was just getting his notepad out when he saw him.

Him being a completely frazzled looking student – maybe a year ortwo Even’s junior – stumbling through the door. He looked like he was wearing about ten layers underneath his huge coat,and Even could see snow caught in the fold of his beanie. Like most of the students there the boy camein armed with coffee; his hands – which looked snug as fuck in a pair of mittens, Even noticed – were clutching onto alarge take away cup from the nearby coffee shop as if it was the only thingtethering him to reality.

Even picked up his travel mug and took a sip as he watched theboy stumble into a seat and flop down onto it like a dead fish. And wow, Even had thought he was bad at mornings. There were probably corpses that woke upbetter than this kid.

Although he doubted any corpse was as pretty as this boy.

Even felt blessed to have seen such a pretty face. He didn’t feel quite so salty about this bloody early morning guest speaker now.

He watched with interest as the boy set his coffee downreluctantly and wiggled some layers off. Even counted a coat, a scarf, the mittens, and a bulky jumper before theboy decided that was quite enough outwear to remove. The boy was left in a big hoodie that Evenwas sure was soft as fuck to the touch and probably concealed three more shirts underneath.

The angel clearly felt the cold.

Even empathised. His asswas already numb from his stupid frozen chair and he’d barely been in it twominutes. He took another pull from hiscoffee to try to warm himself up from the inside out before the speaker showedup and he’d be expected to concentrate and take notes and all that bullshitrequired of students.

And, okay, the thing is…Evendidn’t mean to watch the kid. It’s just that he was sat directly in Even’s line of sight and hisface was so pretty that Even just couldn’t bring himself to look around at theother bland exhausted faces in the room or pretend to try to read the leaflets onthe pin board.

So when the guy proceeded to pull a huge can of Red Bull out of his snow dusted backpack it wasn’t likeEven could look away. He watched as theguy popped the lid off his take away cup and immediately the smell of strongcoffee permeated the air.

Even perked up a little just from the smell. He drank a little bit more of his own coffee,but what the boy did next made Even freeze in place.

Even watched in horror as the kid cracked open the Red Bull,took a few long pulls from his coffee to make room in the mug, and then pouredthe entirety of the energy drink into his coffee. He put the lid back on his cup and swirled itaround a little.

It was then that the boy glanced around.

And, of course, he caught Even staring straight at him with a horrifiedlook in his eyes and his lips still around his travel mug.

“I’m probably gonna die. But who wants to live at this time in the morning anyway?” The kidshrugged. And then, in what Even couldonly assume was a power move to assert his dominance, the kid drank the entirecontents of the large cup while maintaining eye contact with Even who was stillparalysed with shock.

It was only when the kid finished his poisonous concoction andturned his back on Even that Even regained control over his body. He lowered his mug away from his mouth, forsome reason put off the idea of caffeine completely. He wasn’t a massive caffeine consumer ingeneral; he was pretty sure his skin was buzzing just from watching that kid neck so much caffeine at once.

It was one of the most disgusting things Even had ever seen.

He’d worked as a barista throughout secondary school and knew hewas a bit of a coffee snob because of it, but the kid’s blatant disregard forhis coffee offended some part of Even purely on principle.

But fuck if he couldn’t stop thinking about it or watching thatboy. The guest speaker came in and Evenbarely noticed. All of his attention wason the caffeine addict a few rows ahead of him.

Much to his surprise, the kid didn’t drop dead of a massive heartattack. In fact, the kid was morefocused than Even was; he was watching the speaker and taking notes and noddinga little every now and then.

Even, on the other hand, wasn’t listening to a thing the speakerwas saying because he was transfixed by a curl of golden hair that had escapedfrom under the back of the boy’s beanie.

Curiosity was killing him.

The more he looked at the boy, the more he wanted to know. Did he have no taste buds? How tired do you have to be to combine coffeeand Red Bull? What makes you even consider combining those things? What was his name? What was he studying that could be relevantto the guest speaker? Why had Even notnoticed him around when he looked like an angel? How had he not blinked once while he made eyecontact with Even and drank that monstrosity?

Even needed answers,dammit!

It was only when the boy slouched down to grab his backpack andthen stood up that Even realised the talk was over.

And he hadn’t heard a single word of it.

At that moment he realised a few things in quick succession.

1. He got up at 6AM to listen to a guest speaker and instead ogledthe back of a pretty boy’s head for 90 minutes

2. He had nothing to show for the last 90 minutes of his life. No notes, no photos of the board on hisphone, nothing.

3. He needed to do something fastto make it look like he’d actually been paying attention to that talk becausethe boy was looking over his shoulder and Even still had his blank notebook onhis lap.

4. Impossibly, the boy looked even prettier from the front.

Even slammed his notebook shut and practically threw it into hisbag, almost knocking his half full travel mug over in his haste. He grabbed the mug as it wobbled beforegetting to his feet, swinging his backpack over one shoulder and stretching hisback. An hour and a half in the chairfrom hell hadn’t done him any favours he thought as his spine cracked andpopped.

He chanced a glance over at the boy as he finished his stretchand was surprised to find amused hazel eyes staring directly at him.

“Yes?” Even quirked an eyebrow.

“You know I could feel you staring holes through my skull thewhole time, right?” The boy raised an eyebrow right back.

Well.

Fuck.

Even had no idea how to respond to that.

“Aren’t you going to ask my name or something?” The boy promptedand Even’s brain finally caught up with him.

“I normally ask interesting people out for coffee, but I thinkyou’ve had enough caffeine for a week.” He replied smoothly. Satisfaction welled up in his chest at thepink blush that dusted the boy’s pale cheeks.

“So is this you notasking me out?” There was definitely a little tinge of disappointment in theboy’s voice, Even was sure of it.

“This is me saying that if you have any more caffeine you willprobably die. How about breakfastinstead?” Even smiled his best smile. Hewasn’t blind; he knew he ticked a lot of the boxes of ‘how to be good lookingin the west’ and he wasn’t afraid to use that to his advantage if the situationcalled for it.

And getting to know a cute boy definitely called for it.

“Breakfast sounds good.” The kid smirked. “You probably owe me a meal after all thatstaring.” He added casually as he turned away and walked towards the door.

“You started it!” Even protested as he followed him out into thecrisp cool morning.

“You were already staring at me when I looked around actually.”The boy looked so fucking smug. Theworst part was that Even couldn’t even argue, because it was true.

He had been looking at the kid since he walked through the door.

“Are you going to tell me your name or what?” Even huffed. He knew he sounded grumpy, like a sore loser,but the kid just laughed.

“Isak. I’m Isak. And you? What name should I be putting on my sexual harassment report?” Isakteased.

“Seriously? It was earlyand I was tired and there was a pretty boy, I just sort of zoned out and youwere right in front of me.” Even grumbled. He was still turning the name over in his head; desperate to roll itaround his mouth and see how it tasted.

“Do you stare at allthe pretty boys for an hour and a half?”

“Only the reallypretty ones.” Even winked, taking pleasure in the way Isak flushed all the wayup to the tips of his ears. He hadn’tput his beanie back on and snow was drifting into his hair. He looked like a renaissance painting.

“Come on then, I’ve told you my name. Who are you, huh?” Isak prompted and Evenshot a cheeky grin over at him.

“Even. Even Bech Næsheim. Your future boyfriend.”

“Wow.” Isak snorted. “Ican’t tell if my heart’s beating so fast from the caffeine or from your totallyromantic introduction.” He rolled his hazel eyes and Even swore he fell alittle bit in love with this sassy boy there and then.

“Hey, if you have a heart attack at breakfast we’ll probably getit for free.” Even winked.

“I can already feel my heart outside of my body; let’s not jinxit, hmm?”

“I still can’t believe you drank that in one go.” Even shook hishead in disbelief, pushing the café door open and letting Isak in.

“I call it the Study Buddy.”

“You’ve done that more than once?!”

#Gael writes #G writes Evak #SkamFWN #Evak AU #Isak Valtersen #Even Bech Næsheim #university AU #first meeting #Anonymous

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valencedvallium · 7 years ago

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The Maroon Collar

August 1st, 2017 It was the morning before my work shift, I went to my doctor's appointment, turns out it was short, I had time to kill so I went to a local park nearby. It was a weekday midday, it was dead quiet, nobody around. I went for an idle walk for the sake of it. Nothing special, I walked around a fenced baseball lot. In an instant I heard a deep bark out in the distance. I was shcoked out of my reverie, noticing a dog, far, far away. Cautious, I chose to approach it no further. Not knowing how big this dog was or if it was a thread. Instead, I made the loop around again. Curiously, I went around to the same spot with which I heard a dog. Sure enough, in the distance was a dog. A brown one, hovering by the edge of the forest, which made the perimeter of the park. The dog seemed to watch me as I watched it, loping back and forth across the length of the forest. I spent the next several minutes hanging nearby, making no contact and it walked back and forth, both of us wary of each other's presence. Seeing it as close as I could, I learned it was not a big dog at all, it was of medium-build, a shepherd colored coat mixed with pit, a broad face with big puppy eyes, about a year old. It was lost and scared, tail tucked between his legs and avoiding me completely. Looking at this dog from a distance, a name randomly popped into my head, a common dog name from dogs I've known, couldn't tell you where I got it from, but as I watched him, my brain conjured the name: Domino. It occurred to me this stray may very well be hungry, and I just so happened to have leftover burger king fries in my car. I walked away towards the parking lot and retrieved the remaining fries. Slowly, I approached the dog. He skulked away instead, standing farther away as he watched from a distance. I instead dropped the fries on the pavement, hoping he observed and knew it was food then walked far, far away. Sure enough, this stray took it. I watched from a distance as he hovered around the spot the fries were presumably located. I was glad that I ended up feeding him. Yet, curiously still I approached again, not directly towards him, but I sat in silence, on the edge of that pavement. I did not look at this dog, I did the opposite. The dog in turn was curious, he slowly loped past me, with my back turned, very close this time, only feet away. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see his bright hazel eyes studying me as he walked past. Many more minutes past as we calmly existed in the same space tofether, we both heard a bark in the distance, I went to investigate it and he did to. Nothing of interest, just some neighbor far off and their dog, who had no affiliation with him and ignored us entirely. At last, distraction no longer important, I faced him, and he was in front of me, unfazed. I slowly approached him, kneeling slightly as I did so. This time he did not shy away, taking small pawsteps in my direction. In between us was a vertical metal barrier, between the asphalt parkway where he stood and the grass where I stood. I kneeled before him and tentatively reached over my hand, and in that moment, his head reached for my hand. That was the moment that will be seared into my brain for the rest of my life. Those few moments of first contact, he laid his broad head onto my palm, as if he finally felt comfort after being so lost. He stayed there for a few good minutes, and I reveled in it as well, stroking his jawline with my thumbs and caressing the back of his head. ...this wasn't just a stray that need be doomed to die. I knew I couldn't just feed him and walk off. I needed to save him! In that instant I decided I needed to take him, I took off my belt and looped it around his neck, and there he was, tamed in my care. I led him to my car, and he complied easily. A well-trained dog (despite the moderately strong tug of a well-built dog). This was my first time officially helping a stray. Previously, I picked up an older pomeranian I named "Kid", because the vets which checked for collar or chip, routinely called him "This kid...", Kid went home same day, back when I could temporarily keep a dog in my apartment. This time was different, I hadnt the faintest of what to do with a stray, I had no experience. First thing I did was feed him, once again another trip to Burger King resulted in a purchase of 10 chicken nuggets in which he greedily consumed in half those seconds, and well as a water drink which had been made quick work of. First stop: the vet. As I quickly learned, vets do not take strays. Not the first, nor second down the road, nor third beyond that one. Oh boy, with all these vet clinics I naively thought ONE of them would take a stray. It hit me that that wasnt their job at all. Running out of time, I made a beeline for the local humane society. As it turned out...no-kill shelters are full. They said they did not have any openings, and instead referred me to the animal welfare center, the local "pound", as the slang goes. Frustrated, my last ditch effort was to disturb the peace of my apartment for one night, and bring a dog in. It was an act of desperation, my roommates were a little shocked. Though, for the night Domino gladly made his home on our porch, and for the time being he was safe. I could make my way to work without missing a beat. The following morning I had to make due on my promise to be a good roommate, albeit an errant one who brings in flea-infested strays to our home (Yes, he did have fleas. I took the effort to bathe him to kill them, and apply garlic to his food, which ironically kept the insect vampires at bay), so I made the decisive effort to bring him to the shelter, by request of the humane society. I arrived that morning, waiting in line out by the door, as another dog was awaiting his nebulous fate behind those doors. It soon came my turn, and here I figured out all I could. I filled out a form and asked questions. The local shelter houses dogs for three days before they are "due out", I could not figure out his fate after unless I called. Even then it was dicey. Local no-kill shelters usually came to shelters to pick up dogs. I gave all the information I could. Domino was a gentle, timid, mild-mannered dog, who seemed very well house trained and leash trained! Great in car rides, perfect disposition. How was he not adoptable!? After the initial papers were filed, the dog was led away into the back to begin his stay. Those were anxious days, waiting for his board to pass and not knowing what would happen. I resolved to pick him up in those three days before he got "due out", not knowing if that would be his end by sleep. I arrived Saturday at noon. As it turns out, they do not perform any euthanasia on weekends! This means his board was not three, but five days alive! It meant I would have to "adopt" him Monday to avoid the fate I was worried about, a fee of $75 which would include his vaccination and neutering, which in turn would extend his stay another two days, to Wednesday. Back to that Saturday though, I couldnt pull him out of the shwlter yet, so I took those seconds to visit him for the first time since his stay. The kennel was not a place I would consider happy. Naturally, he wasnt the only beautiful dog...he was just my beautiful dog. I walked through that place, avoiding any glances at the neighboring dog dispersed throughout the kennels. Looking for 223, I finally found the golden eyes, golden face of the dog who came to trust me, and I saw instand recognition light up in his disposition, tail wagging and body pressed close to the bars as I sat close to him, petting him through the barrier which separated us physically but yet again not emotionally. I spent those minutes enjoying the time there, though I held back tears. Unsure of his fate and future. The shelter was a place I began to dread, and it began to dawn on me how fruitless of an effort it was to "rescue" a stray. What? One in a hundred of prettier, cuter dogs? All of which are trapped in the same fate. What chance did any single stray have? Perhaps they had more life out on the open street. The shelter's purpose was to house and feed the dog until death knocks on their door, bringing them sleep eternal. It began to dawn on me that I may not save him after all. I pressed on though, I made plans to pick him up Monday, and find new temporary shelter for him. I had a few options: Foster him out to a family and pay for supplies and a fee in addition to those, pull a "Shiloh" and make him a home in an untouched spot in the wilderness, bringing him food and checking on him, and lastly...take him to a vet to have him put down in my presence, so that he wouldn't go alone. I decided on the first option. The first and only person who got back to me was the foster for my cats, where I kept them while I was in the process of moving. I largely wasnt amused by the option, seeing as for the money I paid them they could hardly ever scoop a litterbox, to my dismay. But they were my current choice. Meanwhile, the SPCA emailed me back saying they would keep him in file for intake, but wanted to know how well he did with other dogs. I acknowledged this and called the shelter in hopes they could test hi. I also filled out a form for the humane society for an intake request, and I made many posts and ads calling for local people to help take him. No such luck in any of these fronts. At last, the day came Wednesday when I was to see him yet again. I returned yet again to the shelter, and that was when they brough him out to me. Satisfied to see him back in my care, and he falling back into the comfort of riding in my care, I resolved to spend the day with him until I must take him to his new temporary home. First stop, the local dog park! I had him tested at the shelter, and with his gentle, friendly demeanor, it seemed to translate to other dogs as well! He affectionately played with the husky over there. I figured the dog park was the perfect place for him to interact sith other dogs. Carefully, I walked him by the fence on a leash, he was friendly and sniffed the dog on the other side, but otherwise walked on. Good news! I took it further and soon we were inside walking among a host of other dogs. In no time he had plenty of dogs come up to say hello, and he would sniff them in return in gentle, quiet greeting. As I payed close attention to his face and hovered quietly over, I did not see a single ounce of aggression. I couldn't help but grin, perfect news! This would be something I could report to make sure a rescue group will take him! We spent some time interacting with dogs and then each other. Just sitting at the park together. I took him to a pet store next, where I bought a can of food, and a collar. I carefully selected a maroon purple one, and it was then I kneeled down to get ir around his neck, he jumped a bir excitedly and in that moment threw each forearm over both my shoulders. I could swear that in that moment after I put that beautiful collar on him, we were hugging in a comforting embrace. Next stop, my local wilderness park, a hiking spot I always loved to go, bringing my dog there would be wonderful way to spend our last hours together. I walked him around a bit, and finally we reached a relatively isolated spot where a railroad track overlooked some long looming grasses which vaguely shrouded a pond. We basked in the brightness of an evening sun. Eventually, I had to take him to his new place, it was not a time I looked forward to, and when I walked into that house, tried to set up his supplies, and hoped those people would take care of him. A knot formed in my stomach, wanting to see if I could receive some information to do something by tomorrow. I spent the very next day feverishly researching all the local pet sitters who had ads. Asking for help. All in all, none of them considered my offer. Every single one stopped communicating with me. I came to realize that on my limited budget, people wont take care of dogs. No, for a month of boarding, all commercial businesses would charge in the hundreds and thousands, certainly not what I could afford...I wasnt making a plan for an expensive vacation, that's for sure. I spent the day at work the following night wondering and worrying if I would get the responses I had truly wanted, the call for help answered by SOMEONE. When I finally returned home the opposite news struck me. As it turned out, the only response I got (from the foster who avoided any other message responses to me) was a message saying they did not wish to keep him any longer, due to his sudden sickness and dismay towards their boys, and in that instance I felt lost. I spent the night worrying and unable to sleep, not sure what to do. I made fitful plans of what to do tomorrow morning. I came over the next morning to pick him up, and as it turned out, he did come down with kennel cough, a condition from the shelter that struck before his vaccination. As it turns out, he seemed wary of other boys and males, Ive noticed that he would bark at them from a distance sometimes, and he did not like these boys. In a last resort, I knew my options are limited. I took him to a vet clinic I had once tried applying for, and it was then they told me what his sickness was, and that they could not boarf him. They gave me resources and helped me as much as possible. It was then I made my way to another clinic, attempting to board him there. A bystander seemed to hear my plight , and she offered me her name. She was a donator to the shelter I initially took him too, and she suggested I give her name and that she requested he specifically go on a truck to Minnesota. The sympathetic vets also suggested I do not board him there, as sick as he was the price would go up, and it was money I very well should not spend. They also clued me in to the fact that he was more likely to be taken by a rescue given that he was now neutered and vaccinated, and that the shelter was not likely to put down animals if it wasn't completely full. I pondered these facts, and I felt silly and inexperienced trying to board and foster him all along...but in the end I learned that the possibility for him to be alive there was still significant in some way all along. For the second time, I took him to the shelter. This time feeling a bit more confident in his chances. I went through the forms and let them take him back. I left that place feeling relieved for the first time in awhile. Unfortunately, it occured to me a second later that I had forgotten to take his collar off, and I had wanted to take it off a second before they took him back there, as a memory to keep from him wherever his fate may be. I still hope he will find a place he deserves.

#animalwelfare #dogs #pets #SPCA #humanesociety #animalshelter #strays #animalrescue #rescue #shelter #adoption #story #fiction #writing #bio #personal #sad

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