#so kevin begrudgingly settles down and lets them look over his hand

[dayurno]

How does the breaking of Kevin's hand affect Transmigrator Riko's relantionship to Jean? You said Jean didn't believe he was changing, but what about the next months when Jean becomes his partner? Does Transmigrator Riko go to an awful grief period like SY does?

VERY GOOD QUESTION riko and jean never become friends even after transmigrator riko takes over and directly starts working on making kevjean’s lives more bearable—riko is switched around the time jean is 15, which means a lot of the bad memories jean associates with riko haven’t and will not happen, but what he does have is enough to know there is no world where riko just Turns Nice. at first jean thinks he is playing the long game and worries about what this could mean for kevin, who falls for it, and then as he grows older he learns to just avoid riko at all costs even if it means being subjected to the other ravens’ terrible personalities and constant bullying. t!riko still tries to intervene and help from far away, but the perfect court is much more fractured in this universe because riko doesn’t have as much centralized power as he once did, so he and jean only have kevin in common and that is about as far as their interactions go, too

this isn’t 100% set in stone yet but let me answer it in two parts. yes, riko does go through a grieving phase, and it wavers his position in the ravens for a bit. he is their infallible king, and kevin is the traitor who jumped ship, so why is riko so clearly miserable? it instills some seeds of doubt in him and his perfect court t!riko can’t afford at this point in the story, so he reverts a bit back into the original riko’s personality to hold down the fort. he’s still pretty miserable in private, because he’s grown to love kevin and because he feels guilty, and of course all of this does effect his performance, which in turn puts him in tetsuji’s line of sight again. all in all he’s not doing well at all, but he believes that it’s his penance for what he’s done, and things will not look up for him at all until neil josten shows up in palmetto and kickstarts the plot

now the other part: jean never becomes riko’s partner because transmigrator riko tells him to take kevin and leave when he breaks kevin’s hand. part of it is because he’s genuinely grown fond of kevin and needs someone to look out for him, but the other part is that riko can’t trust jean and especially not a jean that has never been broken into not hating him. it’s as much a decision for kevin’s sake as it’s for his own safety—the day riko breaks kevin’s hand is bloody in more ways than the original because jean is there and he’s not scared to brawl with a man he’s no longer scared of, and because he’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop and for riko to go back to the monster he was before he turned nice. kevin himself doesn’t want to leave at all: keep in mind he spent the last 3 years being actually, genuinely close to riko. he feels betrayed, yes, but he knows riko at this point; the decision to break his hand makes no sense and kevin wants answers. unfortunately he will not get them until much later, because he passes out and wakes up in david wymack’s guest room with jean, already far away from any answers he could get

[fvckyouimaprophet]

lights low, flames high

5x11 alternate ending where tabitha and betty "vibe" while they're on shrooms, and by vibe i mean make out | read on ao3

The music bounces off the bunker walls—small and insulated as it is—and melts into Betty until she’s not sure where it ends and she begins. Then again, she supposes the shrooms are partly to blame. She’s never been good at relinquishing control, and Jessica’s words loop in her head. Let the trip take you wherever it may go. She’s certain that the budding anxiety in the pit of her stomach is not what Jessica meant. It doesn’t help that the last time she was drugged— 

Her nails dig into her palm, cutting off that thought. Deep breaths.

“What is this?”

Tabitha’s question makes her jump—the thought of anyone else in the room long out of Betty’s mind.

“What?”

“This music.”

“Oh, it’s from Hair,” Betty says.

“That’s that anti-Vietnam musical?” Her lips betray her, quirking upwards in amusement, but nonetheless, Tabitha sways along with it and drags her finger along the edge of the table.

“Most of my musical theatre knowledge comes from Kevin,” Betty admits. She closes her eyes and runs her fingers along the bed. So many memories for a hole in the ground—and mistakes too.

She pushes the thought out of her mind and focuses instead on the feel of the fabric and the pilled polyester of the pillow cover. Its touch is strangely satisfying and absorbing.

“Can I lay down too?” Tabitha asks, and Betty blinks her eyes open and back into focus as the room swims around her—the red of the lava lamp making the walls look aflame. Betty nods her head before she recalls the spare mattress and hobbles up.

“Wait, I have a better idea.” She tugs at the edge of the mattress, but her grip slips and tugs the bedsheet off instead. It’s hard to focus with her body floating, and she stumbles backward.

“Careful!” 

Before Betty can fall into the table, Tabitha places a hand on each of Betty’s arms and steadies her with a light squeeze. As unexpected as it is, the sudden warmth of someone beside her feels nice, and her breath catches in her throat. With Tabitha this close, Betty notices—not for the first time—the scene of her perfume. It’s oddly comforting, if unfamiliar. She breathes in slowly, careful not to give herself away.

“Thanks,” Betty says, and when she turns around, Tabitha’s hands drop. The sudden lack of contact is inexplicably disappointing, but her mind can’t focus enough to linger on it. The music swells around them, swallowing them both, judging by the look on Tabitha’s face.

“What were you trying to do?” Tabitha asks.

“There’s a spare mattress. We can just move them to the floor if I can just…” She tugs at the mattress again, careful this time not to grip it by the bedsheet. And when it starts to budge, she grins.

“Let me help.”

They make quick work of pushing the table to the side and getting the mattresses to the floor, especially considering how much of a chore it is to move at all. It’s not the most graceful she’s ever been, but here in the comfort of the bunker, there’s little to worry about. 

And the shrooms—Betty has to begrudgingly admit they make things a little softer at the edges. The moment Betty thinks she’s grasped a thought, it's out of reach. With everything that’s happened with Polly and the chaos of Charles and Chic, it’s a relief to be floating, untethered.

“You know this music isn’t half-bad, but I don’t know how Jessica had time to prepare it when we weren’t paying attention,” Tabitha says, and Betty rolls on her side to face her.

“I still can’t believe she drugged us. And then left us here with some music like that makes it all okay!”

They look at each other, the intensity of Jessica’s actions washing over them before Tabitha bursts out laughing. “I have to admit, this isn’t how I imagined spending my night, but it’s not so bad. You’re not the wet blanket Jughead made you out to be.”

The words linger between them for a second, Jughead’s name harsh and unforgiving.

“I shouldn’t have brought him up,” Tabitha quickly adds.

“It’s fine,” Betty says and is surprised by the fact that she means it. The silence draws out for another moment, and Tabitha rolls over onto her side as well. With their mattresses on top of one another, it means that Tabitha’s face is inches apart from hers. 

It’s an intimacy Betty’s nearly forgotten. Glen hardly counts; half the time, Betty doesn’t remember him—which says something considering his role in recent events. And her training hasn’t lent itself to many new friendships. But now, with Tabitha so close that Betty can smell the artificial sweetness of a strawberry milkshake on her breath, it feels reassuring.

“What do you think of Riverdale so far?” Betty asks.

Tabitha laughs and puts a hand under her head, propping it up. “I’ve… never seen a place quite like it.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“What’s yours?”

“Haunted. Or… Sometimes I wonder what I’m fighting for. I grew up here, and I have all these memories, but it feels like I’m holding onto something that’ll never exist. I used to think the town would heal itself—that the bad things that happened were the exception, but I’m not so sure I think that anymore. When it was just Jason and Mr. Blossom, that felt like an anomaly. But then it turned out my dad was a serial killer and Veronica’s was a power-hungry egomaniac, and Jughead’s mom came to town and rallied the Ghoulies to sell Jingle Jangle, and—”

“Jughead’s mom did what?” Tabitha asks and stares, horrified and wide-eyed.

The absurdity of it all hits Betty until she can’t help but smile. “Oh yeah. And that’s hardly the highlights reel.” Her filter’s too far gone to stop herself, so she adds, “You know, we set her drug lab on fire.”

Tabitha shakes her head and laughs in disbelief. “Holy shit.”

“And I haven’t even told you about the cult, or the creepy video store that sold pornos and illegally filmed sex tapes.”

“My grandfather told me some stories—mostly about Hiram and Veronica, for obvious reasons.” She hangs her free hand over the mattress, close to Betty, and Betty glances down, distracted by it. “And hey, maybe you’re right that this place is cursed, but I gotta believe in it. I’ve invested everything into Pop's, and as fucked up as Riverdale is, I don’t think it’s a lost cause. And I don’t think you’d have chosen to stay here if you thought that either.”

Betty bites her tongue, ignoring the automatic urge to argue. “Maybe,” she says, but her voice doesn’t sound entirely believable, even to her own ears.

Tabitha reaches out prods Betty’s shoulder with her two fingers—light and teasing. “I can practically see the effort it’s taking you not to disagree.”

There’s no use lying. The shrooms have made sure any knack she has for it is out of reach. “Sorry.”

“It’s a little rude, but I suppose I can find it in my heart to forgive you.” She smirks at Betty, and it strikes Betty that Tabitha must be as at ease as she feels. The Flesh Failures—her favorite song from the soundtrack—starts to play, and Betty adjusts herself, dropping her hand just slightly until her fingers touch Tabitha’s.

It’s silly perhaps. But she can’t stop the thought of Tabitha’s hands on her arms from flickering through her mind. It’s been so long since she’s found a touch that she hasn’t wanted to pull away from but, instead, lean into. She waits for Tabitha to move her hand back to her mattress, but she doesn’t. The realization takes a second to settle in as Betty watches, her stomach tightening in anticipation.

When she glances up, Tabitha is staring at her.

“I can—” Betty starts, pulling her hand back, but Tabitha reaches out, her fingers hooking around Betty’s to stop her.

“You don’t need to.”

Her world feels fuzzy around the edges, and Betty can’t stop herself as she lets out a breathy oh. The sound of her own heart rises over the music, and she’s suddenly aware of how hot the room is. Next to her, Tabitha inhales sharply through her nose and leans in.

Betty’s hit with a brief moment of clarity just before they kiss. It cuts through her, all the emotions she’s kept curled inside spilling out. They wrap around her as the song starts to wind down, and their lips meet. It’s tentative and gentle, careful to give Betty room to move back if she wants.

But she’s tired of overthinking. Her body aches from near-sleepless nights punctuated by nightmares. All she knows is that Tabitha’s lips feel soft and inviting, and, for once, she isn’t going to question it. Betty leans in, sinking into the kiss as she reaches out and wraps her fingers around Tabitha’s shirt.

Tabitha cups Betty's jaw, and the feel of her skin against hers is electric. Betty’s eyes close, and a small whine leaves her lips as she tries to steady herself against the rush of blood in her head and the dip in her stomach. The high is still riding full force, amplifying each little movement they make, and it’s all too much.

Betty pulls back, breathing deeply and quivering.

“You okay?” Tabitha asks. She squeezes Betty’s hand as her brow furrows with concern.

“Yeah, I—” Betty struggles to find the right words, so she just nods her head and concentrates on her breathing until she settles into her body once more.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have done that,” Tabitha says, although she doesn’t look like she quite believes it.

“This,” Betty says, motioning to herself, “has nothing to do with you kissing me. Or, if it does, it’s in a good way.” A cautious grin spreads across her face. “Can’t say I saw that coming from you, though.”

“Well, you should know better than to underestimate me.” Tabitha grins back.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The sound of the needle in the runout groove fills the silence, and Betty sucks in a sharp breath before pulling herself up with some difficulty, aware of how heavy her body feels. The mattresses, even just on the floor, look appealing.

“How do you feel about sleeping?” Tabitha asks, echoing Betty’s thoughts.

“I feel great about it.” Betty steps over to the record player, lifting the needle up and turning it off before making her way back. She half-falls as she sprawls back out.

Against the scratchy fabric of the mattress, her body feels weightless. It doesn’t take long for her to start to drift. She focuses on the sound of Tabitha breathing beside her until her mind starts to wander half toward dreams.

Just on the precipice of sleep, a hand brushes against hers, warm and familiar. Betty smiles, and the dreams overtake her.

[cpd5021]

Santa’s Helper

Happy Smutmas! Here’s day number one! Rated very much M!! Enjoy!

It started off as any other day in Intelligence, they were working a case and Jay and Hailey had been out tracking down a witness. As they walked up the steps back into the precinct, the typical easy banter flowing between them, Hailey caught Platt’s eyes and immediately knew she would regret it. Platt stared her down and summoned her over with a wave of her finger. Hailey sent Jay a panicked look but he simply shrugged and continued his way up the steps leading towards the bullpen. Hailey begrudgingly made her way over to Platt, feeling her stomach sink with every step as she took in the clearly fake smile plastered on the sargents face. 

“Goldilocks! Just the detective I wanted to see!”

Her uncharacteristically chipper voice did nothing to quell Hailey’s nerves. 

“What can I help you with, Sarge?”

Hailey asked, forcing her own fake smile onto her face. 

“Upton, I am so glad you asked.”

Platt accentuated each word, smiling even more as she spoke. 

“CPD is hosting a little Christmas event for kids and I need some volunteers.”

The way she said ‘volunteers’ told Hailey it would be anything but voluntary. Hailey simply nodded along, waiting for the other bomb to drop. 

“We’re having a Santa and he needs some elves.”

There it was. Hailey cringed internally at the thought of what Platt was suggesting but knew better than to protest. 

“Who else is helping out?”

Hailey asked, trying to draw the attention away from her initial reaction. 

“Well, Kevin was more than happy to be our Santa and you should have seen the look on Kim’s face when I told her, she’s the one who suggested elves. It’s perfect!”

Hailey smiled at the thought of Kevin as Santa and was not one bit surprised that Kim was all for this. She nodded again, letting Platt know she would help out before turning to dart upstairs and hoping that she could somehow get out of this. Walking into the bullpen, Hailey walked by Kevin’s desk, sharing a knowing look with him as she passed by. She was so distracted by her previous conversation she didn’t notice Kim jogging up to her until they almost collided. 

“Did she tell you? I already found the costumes!”

Kim beamed, practically jumping with excitement. 

“Co...costumes?”

Hailey stuttered, not having even considered that thought.

“Well yeah, we can’t just go as is. We’re elves!”

This time Kim did jump and Hailey fought to plaster a smile on her face. She excused herself and hurried over to her desk, sinking into her chair and wishing they had used the other door when they came in. Jay sent her a questioning look from his desk and she couldn’t bring herself to explain so she just shook her head at him and focused on her computer. 

    Hailey made it through the rest of the day without mention of her new gig, thankful that they had gotten too busy for Kim to have the time to show her the costumes. Now she stood in the locker room, ready to go home and dreading tomorrow. It was supposed to be her day off anyway, she should have told Platt she had plans. Not that that would have mattered, the Sargeant would have gotten her roped in one way or another. While word of Hailey’s role at this shindig thankfully stayed under wraps, the mention of the function itself spread quickly. Jay had asked her if she planned on attending it and she had brushed him off, hoping he wasn’t planning on going. He had let it drop but the way he looked at her made Hailey think he suspected something was up. Hailey finished up in the locker room and quickly headed home, praying tomorrow would be over with quickly. 

    Morning came far too quickly for Hailey’s liking. She found herself snoozing her alarm a few times before she finally rolled out of bed. She padded into the bathroom, taking a long and hot shower before she got dressed and headed downstairs for some breakfast. She glanced at her phone, checking the time and groaning when she realized she needed to get going if she was going to meet with Kim at 11 as they had planned. Hailey headed out the door, pulling her coat tight against her in the cold Chicago wind. The drive to the banquet hall was much shorter than Hailey would have appreciated and soon enough she was trudging her way inside. An older woman at a table by the door pointed her in the direction of a room being used for the characters and Hailey cringed at the title placed upon her. Pushing the door open slowly, the first thing that caught her eye was Kevin in the corner of the room, donned in a full on Santa suit and instantly glaring at her smile. She walked over, lifting her hand to rub it up and down the red fabric.

“Wow, it’s even real velvet.”

She smirked, chuckling when he glared down at her. 

“Only the best for the best.”

He said, puffing his chest out and adjusting his Santa hat. Hailey was just starting to think maybe this wouldn’t be so bad when Kim came running up behind her, clad in a bright green elf dress, complete with obnoxiously glittery tights. She even wore a hat with a little bell on top and Hailey wanted to sink into the floor at the thought of putting it on. Kim handed her the bag containing her garment and pointed her in the direction of the bathroom. Hailey held back a sigh as she took the bag and headed out of the room. 

Once dressed, and having swallowed every last bit of her pride, Hailey walked back out into the main room. She met eyes with Kevin and it was his turn to smirk at her. She sent him a glare in return and then was bombarded by Kim once again. 

“Okay, I have some glittery makeup we can add for you. I think it really pulls the look together.”

Kim turned her head back and forth slowly, displaying her glittery handiwork. Hailey pursed her lips in an attempt at a smile, knowing she wasn’t getting out of this. Once kim had “worked her magic” as she called it, the two followed after Kevin as another older woman came to tell them it was time to set up. Walking into the auditorium, the trio were met by Platt, wearing a huge smile plastered on her face. She walked over to them, coming to Kevin first and cupping his face between her hands. 

“Most handsome Santa I’ve ever seen.”

She said and the look on his face was priceless. She turned to Kim next, sending her another smile before she finally turned to Hailey. 

“Awe, aren’t you just adorable.”

Hailey tried her best to smile at the Sergeant but it fell flat. Platt leaned in close enough to speak so only Hailey could here. 

“And hating every moment, which I’m loving. For the kids Upton! For the kids!”

And with that she was gone and Hailey was moving to catch up to Kim. 

The event started then and Hailey and Kim fell into an easy rhythm, leading the kids up to sit on Santa’s lap and posing for photo ops when requested. Hailey’s nerves had settled slightly as they neared the end of the event and she had to admit, seeing the kids light up by seeing Santa almost made this whole disaster worth it. Almost. 

As the afternoon wore down, the line started to thin. Hailey was standing next to a family with two kids, ready for their photo, when she saw the auditorium doors open and her heart sank. In walked Adam and Jay, heading directly her way. She panicked briefly and considered boltling, but the photographer reminded her they were ready to take the photo. By the time the camera clicked and Hailey was free, it was too late. Jay was standing just a few feet back, staring at her with the biggest grin on his face, Adam’s eyes were locked on Kim. The girls ushered the last few kids through, finishing out the event before Adam jumped onto the end of the line. Kim played right along, moving him up to sit on Kevin’s lap and Kim laughed as she snapped the picture. Jay walked up to Hailey, a huge grin still plastered on his face. 

“Shut up.”

She told him, though she was unable to control the small smile tugging at her lips. 

“I didn’t say anything.”

Hailey glared up at him, his mischievous eyes glinting down at her. 

“Did you want a picture with Santa too?”

She asked, raising her eyebrow at him. He leaned in closer to her, whispering into her ear as he spoke. 

“No, but I wouldn’t mind a session with his elf.”

Hailey instantly felt heat rush to her cheeks but she hoped the glittery makeup Kim had plastered on her would hide it. 

“I’ll see if Kim’s available.”

She deadpanned, knowing damn well he meant her. The two had recently shifted their relationship past just work partners and friends and honestly it had been the best decision Hailey had ever made. Jay was amazing, as she knew he would be, in every aspect of their relationship. But the way he was looking at her with the dark look swirling around his eyes, made Hailey very aware of the one element he really excelled in. The thought sent heat rushing to more than just her cheeks, something she knew Jay was definitely aware of. Jay stood behind her, with enough distance that any onlookers wouldn’t think anything of their spacing, but close enough he could tug ever so slightly on the hem of her short skirt. Hailey jumped at the contact and spun around to send him a threatening look. He sent her a smirk in return and she was blushing once again. Hailey turned back around to survey the room, Kevin, Adam and Kim were huddled in the corner all laughing at something Kevin had said. The cleaning crew was making their way in to tear down the decorations, signalling to Hailey that she was done for the day. She reached back to tug Jay’s arm, leading him out of the auditorium. They headed into the empty hallway and Hailey started back towards the dressing room. 

“Give me just a sec to change and we can get out of here.”

She spoke, checking the plaque on each door as she walked, looking for the dressing room. She only made it two more doors before Jay’s hand yanked her backwards and quickly turned her back to be up against the wall. He was in front of her in a split second, his knee coming to rest between her thighs. Her eyes darted up and down the hallway, finding it thankfully empty.

“Are you insane?”

She hissed, finally looking up at him. He winked at her before dipping his head down, his mouth instantly finding the spot just below her ear that he knew drove her wild. She clutched the front of his shirt, eagerly pulling him closer before she thought better and pushed him back. 

“Jay, look where we are!”

She hissed again, scanning the hallway once more. 

“I don’t see anyone.”

He countered, biting his bottom lip as he took in her flushed face. 

“That’s not the point.”

She muttered, her heart racing at the look on his face. 

“One of these rooms has to be empty, it’s a Saturday, everyone’s probably headed home.”

He whispered, waggling his eyebrows playfully. 

“You really are insane.”

She replied, making the mistake of looking him in the eye once again. Jay pulled her off the wall, tugging her down the hall and checking for an unlocked door. To her horror, and albeit slight pleasure, he found one and quickly pushed it open, yanking her inside. They found themselves in an empty office that looked like it wasn’t in use even during business days. A desk covered in a thick layer of dust was in the middle of the room but Jay led her to the leather couch pushed up against the wall. He sat down and immediately pulled her onto his lap, her legs straddling his waist. 

“I wasn’t joking about that session with an elf.”

He said, leaning up to kiss along her neck once again. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, pulling him closer as her body began to give in to his ministrations. His hands gripped her hips, gently moving her back and forth against the front of his jeans, causing an obvious reaction from the both of them. His fingers came to dance up her thighs, sliding under the fabric of her skirt easily and continuing their way up. His thumb brushed over her sensitive nerves and even through all the fabric she bucked at the contact. He pulled back from her neck, tilting his head to smirk up at her. She bit her lower lip, her fingers trailing down his neck before scraping down his shirt until she met the clasp of his belt. His eyes darkened even more as she quickly undid the belt and his button, pulling down his zipper slowly, with enough pressing to drive him wild. She freed him from his boxers and her hands instantly started to set a rhythm, his hips lifting up into her with every stroke. She sent him a smirk before sliding off his lap and onto her knees in front of him. 

“Hailey…”

He breathed out, registering what was about to happen. She bit her lip again, sending him a wink before she dipped down and took him into her mouth. Her eyes never left his and she watched as he fell apart under her touch. She set a slow pace, something she knew drove him insane as her mouth and hand worked together to bring him to the edge. She could tell he was getting close when his thighs started to twitch around her and then his hands were in her hair, gently pulling her off. He pulled her up and positioned her on the couch, sharing a quick kiss before he pushed her to lay back. He pulled down the skirt and tights, dragging his nails down her thighs as he went. The sensation caused her to shiver and he sent her a devilish grin in response. Jay shifted himself down, his tongue darting out between his lips for just a second before he lapped at her wetness, Hailey arching instantly underneath him. He drew his tongue through her wet folds again before he moved back down and slid inside her. Hailey’s hand clasped over her mouth in an attempt to silence her moans as Jay continued to work her. As her legs began to shake around him, Jay pulled away from her, causing Hailey to groan at the loss of contact. Her disappointment didn’t last long before his fingers slid into her core, another loud moan rising from her chest. His mouth latched onto her clit and as his tongue sucked and flicked over the sensitive bundle, Hailey felt herself fall apart. Jay continued to work her until the waves of her orgasm finally slowed. Then he crawled back up her until his body hovered over her, the tip of his erection dancing just over where she wanted him most. His mouth found hers and she tasted herself there, causing another moan. Jay positioned himself at her entrance, nipping at her bottom lip before he pushed his whole length in.He paused for a moment to let her adjust before his hips began to rock against her. Hailey met him thrust for thrust and in a matter of minutes, they were both on edge. Jay moved one hand between them, his fingers dancing over her throbbing bundle and it was enough to drive her over the edge. 

“Jay...oh fuck…”

She moaned loudly before Jay’s mouth clashed against hers, silencing her with a kiss. His own release followed right after and his thrusts became sloppy as he lost control. They stilled for a moment, both catching their breath, before Jay moved out of her and sat up on the couch. Hailey laid, completely spent, on the cool leather sofa as her stomach and thighs continued to quiver. Jay stood and put himself back together before bending down to grab her clothes. He helped her slide back into the tights and skirt, laughing as she swayed upon standing. Her arms came to clasp around his neck, pulling him into a quick hug before she moved back to look at him. 

“You’re awful. A kids Christmas program?”

She shook her head in mock disappointment, causing him to raise his eyebrows at her. 

“I didn’t hear you complaining. In fact, I’m pretty sure everyone heard quite the opposite.”

His words brought another flush to her cheeks and she buried her face in his chest. 

“Shut up, I’m not that loud.”

He chuckled against her, giving her hips a squeeze before they separated. 

“That is highly debatable.”

Hailey shook her head again and pulled him towards the door. They stepped back out into the hallway and Hailey resumed her search for the dressing room door. To her horror, she only made it to the door next to the one they had just come out of. Hailey slowly pushed it open, hoping no one would be inside. Of course that wasn’t her luck and as they stepped inside they were met with a mixture of looks and whistles from Kevin and Adam. Kim sat in the corner laughing. But as Platt moved to stand in front of her, Hailey’s stomach sank. The Sergeant didn’t say a word, just glared Hailey and then Jay down before leaving the room. Hailey turned to punch Jay in the shoulder before bolting to the bathroom to change, locking herself inside and debating never coming out.

[kariachi]

So what was supposed to be a quick thing in the same ‘verse as that other fic about Aggregor not wanting Kevin dating somehow turned into over 1k words of Kwarrel being a reasonable adult who only wants what’s best for everybody involved.

~~

“I’m not having it.”

“I don’t see how it’s your business!” Aggregor met his nephew’s glower with level calm. From experience he knew he was more upset at the prospect of being told what to do than anything else.

“As your uncle and elder guardian-” and that was so weird to say, given Kwarrel looked to have so many years on him “-it is very much my business.” Business he wasn’t going to change his mind on. “Besides, you’re too young for courting.” Kevin’s ire visibly rose.

“Sixteen is perfectly normal for humans!”

“I’m sure it is. Talk to me in another four years.”

“Kwarrel!” To his credit, the Perison didn’t flinch at being drug into the argument.

“I won’t argue against sixteen being a perfectly fine age to date,” he said diplomatically, “though personally I think you should be focusing more on boys at your age.” Kevin’s fair’s eyes all began to change to aggravated oranges and reds to match his rising temper, with flickers of yellow that told Aggregor he wasn’t likely to go sneaking around behind their backs no matter what their stance was. Still, the older Osmosian snorted at Kwarrel’s stance.

“From what little I know of humans,” he said, “the boy’s lucky I allow him to be in the same room as boys.” Kevin groaned, burying his face in his arms. Aggregor’s own brown flit moved to join his fair in stealing off his unguarded plate, only to get a sharp mental reprimand from his owner. Kwarrel just chuckled.

“Really? From what I know of Osmosians I’m surprised you let him out of the house.”

“If he keeps on about this girl,” Aggregor answered, turning his attention back to his dinner in a manner that signaled the end of the discussion, “I may stop.”

~~

Kwarrel entered Kevin’s room to a chorus of flitter chirps and croons and a teenager pointedly not looking up from his blueprints. This wasn’t too concerning, given when Kwarrel’d first taken him under his wing his tantrums had been more in the ‘flash of teeth and blood and fire’ category than ‘standard teenage pouting’. It was amazing what several years of proper parenting and getting another Osmosian in his life had done to the child.

And a child he was, same as Kwarrel had been at his age, no matter what his own culture had told him.

“You know that he’s not just trying to make you miserable, right?” Kevin continued to ignore him, which he took in his stride, settling down on the edge of his bed and allowing half the fair to perch on him. “He just worries about your wellbeing. You’re his favorite relative you know.” Not that it was difficult. Apparently, Kevin’s father had been Aggregor’s favorite sibling, and with him gone all that love had eventually been shifted over to Kevin. Not that Aggregor was good at showing it. Kevin snorted derisively.

“That doesn’t mean he gets to tell me what I can and can’t do.” Because that was the rub, wasn’t it? Kevin didn’t take being told what to do well and being treated like he wasn’t an equal even worse. It made parenting him difficult, which was why Kwarrel inevitably had to take over in these things. He reached out and put a hand on Kevin’s shoulder, sitting silent until Kevin finally and begrudgingly turned to face him. He smiled softly at him in encouragement.

“Aggy is awful with feelings, you know-” they both did “-and worse with explaining them.” With a deep breath, Kwarrel paused to organize his thoughts. “It’s nothing against you, or thinking you can’t, or thinking he’s better than you, or anything like that. But you have to look at this from our point of view.

You’re young, insecure- don’t try to deny it, we know you- and tend to judge your self-worth with arbitrary measures. From what we’ve heard Miss Tennyson is young, doesn’t understand what boundaries are, and either doesn’t know how bad of form it is to try to push someone into a relationship or knows and doesn’t respect you enough to care. Add in the history you have with her and her family…”

Kevin’s expression settled into something so impassable that the resemblance to Aggregor started to become uncanny. Still, he didn’t argue, though he also didn’t meet Kwarrel’s eyes. The flits rearranged themselves so the larger ones were perched on him like distressed little sentinels. Several crooned and nuzzled his chin.

“I don’t think either of you are ready, emotionally, to be entering into serious relationships like it sounds like she wants. Aggregor doesn’t think you’re ready and thinks she’d be beneath you even if you were.” For a heartbeat Kevin gave a little smile and a bemused snort. Kwarrel gave him a light shake with a smile of his own. “He just wants any relationship you have to be healthy and happy. I want the same thing. It just happens, in this case, we feel that requires you growing some more. And probably us managing to find you an actual therapist.” It was too late for him and Aggregor, but they could still save Kevin from the extent of the bullshit. The flits helped, they really did, wonderful therapy animals, but eventually they needed to find a professional for him, and the money to afford them. Leaning back and out of Kwarrel’s grip, Kevin heaved a sigh and began to scratch one of his flits’ eyeridges.

“I really do like her… I flirted with her before and she wasn’t having any of it,” he said, expression opening into something confused and uncomfortable and so very young, “but then she got angry at me because I stopped? And I panicked and I tried to set boundaries like Uncle Aggy taught me but she laughed at me, and then she kept acting like I’m a bad person for not asking her out? But like, what if I did and then the whole thing turned out to be a cycle? I mean, she turned me down once and then got angry at me but you said I should back off when people turned me down!” Kwarrel nodded as Kevin spoke, trying not to grit his teeth. He and Aggregor had known Gwen wanted to date Kevin, had known Kevin wasn’t making a move, fuck the entire argument at dinner had been spearheaded by the reveal that she’d essentially backed Kevin into a social corner to get what she wanted, but these little details had been missing from Kevin’s mentions of her. “But I like her and she likes me back and-”

Kwarrel reached out to stroke his hair before pulling him into a hug, flits and all. This was what he meant when he called this son of his insecure. The boy relaxed in his arms.

“Just because you like each other doesn’t mean you have to date her, especially not if her behavior is making you uncomfortable. You did right by respecting her boundaries, and she did wrong by not respecting yours. It’s a shame she wasn’t taught better.” He couldn’t completely blame the girl, she was young and some families failed their children this way. His own had. With a soothing rumble he pulled away just enough to make eye contact. “And knowing this, I’m going to back your Uncle and say you aren’t going to this dance, and you aren’t dating this girl. Not now at least. In a few years, if you’re in a better place, and she’s grown up, and you’re both still interested, then we can revisit the matter.” Kevin took a deep breath, and when he nodded it was with a small smile and a sense of relief wafting off his fair. Clearly, they hadn’t liked how things were going either.

“Gwen’s gonna be pissed,” he said, and Kwarrel just kept smiling, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“Well, if she keeps giving you trouble you just tell her your uncle is considering an arranged marriage. Should give her a whole new problem to stress over.” Kevin fell back into his chair.

“Tell me he’s not.”

“Last I saw he was flicking through a list of up-and-coming eligible Osmosians and talking to Hared about how your father dated a human woman and died soon after.” The flits scattered with reprimanding chirps as Kevin doubled over in much needed laughter.

“Six years later! In completely unrelated circumstances! Mom’d fucking married by then!” Kwarrel just shrugged, biting back his own laughter.

“You try telling him that. He might actually be serious though, so we may want to talk to him if you don’t want that to be an option.” He didn’t know how common arranged marriages were among Osmosians, or really how marriage in general worked for the species, but he was sure that if he pressed he at least could get Aggregor to drop the idea. But instead of immediately agreeing, he was surprised to see Kevin sit back and consider the matter, chewing on his lip and reaching out a hand to invite one of his blues to settle into his lap for some petting. After a few minutes of near silence, the only noise that of the flits chirping and crooning and beginning to play in the lightening mood, he spoke.

“I want a good reputation, a fine set of antlers, and no arguments about living outside the Empire or having an Erinaen in the house.”

This time it was Kwarrel’s turn to nearly die of laughter.

“I’ll let him know,” he said eventually, once he’d gotten himself back under control. Really leave it to Kevin to agree to this of all things. Never a dull moment with this family. With more creaking than he liked to acknowledge, he stood up from the bed and pulled Kevin into another, looser hug, careful to avoid crushing his flit. “So, are we on the same page?” It took a moment, but Kevin nodded.

“Thanks, Dad.” Fuck, was it ever going to stop being great to hear that? A brief squeeze and Kwarrel pulled away, heading for the door.

“Not a problem. Goodnight, son. I’m going to go present your demands to Lord Monologue.”

The laugh and smile Kevin gave him as he shut the door was brighter than the damn sun.

[winchester-fantasies]

Something a Little More Recreational

Summary: An encounter with Dean leaves you questioning if there’s something more between you. After you’re attacked, Dean proves he’ll be there to pick up all the pieces.

Word Count: 3714

Warnings: trigger (sexual assault), violence, light angst, light swearing, implied smut, fluff, age gap

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Winchester Fantasies’ Masterlist

     You walked down the hall, your bare feet making soft pats across the cold floor of the bunker. Your fingers trailed against the cool wall, your skin snagging on an occasional crack in the ancient surface as you limped along the brightly lit corridor.

     You had been hurt in your last hunt, earning yourself the sideline. Your friends were now taking care of the next hunt, leaving you alone with Sam and Dean Winchester. Not that it was much better having them around. It had only been a few months since you’d come over into this new universe, and you hadn’t had much time to rest let alone make new friends. The Winchesters were virtually strangers to you. You knew them only as the strong and mysterious heroes who had saved you and your camp from Michael.

     This was the first real reprieve you had had since moving into the bunker, and although you had loved getting to selfishly enjoy your bed, it was short-lived. Boredom set in on day two, and you had watched every movie on Netflix at least twice. You couldn’t take it anymore and decided to take an impromptu exploration of the bunker.

     You half regretted your decision, the wound on your upper thigh beginning to smart with the denim of your jeans rubbing roughly against it. The muscle in your thigh was still weak, and your legs nearly gave out more than once. But you were curious and determined to find something entertaining.

     You found the maintenance room first which was of little interest to you. Next you found the armory and gun range, which intrigued you. You knew Dean used it quite often for practice, and although you were well versed in using firearms, you wanted to desperately spend an hour or two in the range and work on your marksmanship simply for fun.

     You walked to the garage where rows of vintage cars lined the far wall. You were still fascinated by vehicles with them being such a rarity in your own universe.

     The gym sat off to the right of the garage, and as you passed, you marveled at all of the machinery and the large punching bag hanging in the corner of the room. Once you healed, you wanted to spend some time in the gym. Not that you needed to work out. You were strong, healthy, and in good shape despite your wider hips, thick thighs, and the little bit of extra pudge that sat in your lower belly.

     You exited the garage and sauntered to the other side of the bunker. You were well acquainted with this part of the cavernous building. You knew the war room and kitchen by heart now, but you hadn’t really had much of a chance to check out the library.

     Your eyes scanned the books, your mind hungry for something to read. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d read or even held a book in your hands. You found one that looked promising so you took it from the shelf and curled up in one of the leather back chairs in the corner. You lost yourself in the well-compiled book of lore. When you looked up at the clock, an hour had already passed. You put the book back but not before earmarking the page you left off on and promising to finish it.

     You walked into the kitchen, your mouth dry and begging for water. You found Dean at the table, glass in one hand, bottle of whiskey in the other. He tipped his head in recognition as you walked to the sink, filling a glass with water.

     “Mind if I sit here?” you asked as you approached the table.

     Dean frowned. “Do I look like I care?” he returned gruffly.

     “No, I guess not,” you shrugged, pulling out a chair and sitting down gingerly, your wound still tender.

     You took a sip of water while Dean downed the last remaining remnants of amber liquid and poured another. He took a sip and smacked his lips. “So what are you doing here instead of on a hunt?” he asked with a frown.

     “Injured,” you said simply, motioning to your leg.

     “Hmm,” Dean nodded. “What was it?”

     “Vamp.”

     Dean huffed. “Nasty sons o’ bitches.”

     “Yeah,” you said with a harsh chuckle.

     “What was that?”

     You shrugged. “I’m just annoyed.”

     Dean cocked an eyebrow. “That wasn’t annoyance. That was hate.”

     You dropped your gaze. “Yeah, well, I froze.”

     Dean sent you a smirk. “Happens to the best of us, sweetheart.” He tipped his glass towards you before taking another sip.

     “So why are you drowning yourself in whiskey?” you asked as Dean poured himself yet another glass.

     “Oh, you know. End of the world; Michael; Lucifer. Typical shit.” He took a sip. “Good old family business,” he added sarcastically.

     “It’s just no matter how much me and Sam do to rid our world of evil, it never makes a fucking difference,” he said gruffly, his thumb and forefinger running over his eyelids and pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’ve lost so many good people along the way. Good people. Charlie, Kevin, Jo and Ellen, Bobby.... Our Bobby,” he quickly corrected.

     “Yeah, I understand,” you murmured.

     Dean guffawed. “What do you know about loss? You’re just a kid! What are you, twenty?”

     You grit your teeth. “Twenty-seven. I look young for my age.”

     Dean raised his eyebrows. “Oh.”

     “And for your information, Dean, I know more about loss than you think,” you chuckled bitterly. 

     “You see this?” You pointed to two circular scars on your left wrist. Dean nodded. “My father,” you said bluntly. Dean’s eyebrows shot up.

     “And this,” you said, pointing to your other wrist where two more scars sat. “Brother.”

     “And this one.” You tilted your head to the left, revealing yet another set near your jugular. You ran your fingers over the raised scars. “Mother,” you said quietly. Dean’s eyes were wide as he stared into yours. 

     “I killed them. Nasty sons o’ bitches,” you mimicked Dean with a sardonic smirk. You reached across the table and took the half empty bottle from his hand. You poured a generous amount in your own glass and downed it in two gulps. You hissed at the sting as it went down your throat.

     “I...I didn’t know,” Dean said, a feeble attempt at an apology.

     You huffed. “No one else does either. Well...except for Bobby. If it hadn’t been for him, I would have died. Luckily he had a cure.” You paused. “Or maybe I should say unluckily. Death would be preferable to this shit of a life.”

     Dean frowned. “Don’t say that. Sure it sucks you had to kill your family, but from what Bobby’s told me about you - and he’s told me a hell of a lot - you’ve saved his ass and countless others’.”

     You were speechless. You didn’t even know Dean knew who you were. And Bobby talked about you? Yeah, he was like a father to you, but he’d never given you any indication you were anything more than a fellow comrade.

     You weren’t sure what to say so you cleared your throat and pushed back from the table. You hissed in pain as you got up from the your chair, your hand flying to your thigh. A warm liquid met your fingertips, and you found blood seeping through your jeans when you looked down. “Fuck!” you snapped.

     “Oh, shit,” Dean said. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, pushing back from the table.

     “I’m fine,” you said angrily. “I’ll do it myself.” You took a step towards the doorway, but a sharp pain shot up your leg. You cried out, and your knees buckled, sending you to the floor with a heavy thud.

     Dean ran over and knelt beside you, his hand coming to your shoulder. “Hey, you okay?” he asked worriedly.

     “No worse for wear, I suppose. But my pride’s gonna need a bandage or two,” you chuckled ruefully.

     “Your leg’s gonna need it, too,” Dean stated, nodding toward your thigh. “Bleeding’s getting worse.”

     “C’mon,” he said, standing and helping you up. You begrudgingly took his hand before he helped you down the hall to your room, your going slow as you practically hopped on one foot.

     You were panting by the time you reached your bedroom. “You stay here,” Dean said as he helped you lean back against your headboard. “I’ll get the first aid kit.”

     He returned moments later, arms full of bandages, gauze, and hydrogen peroxide. “Strip,” he said gruffly.

     “Excuse me?” you asked incredulously.

     “If I’m going to clean your wound, you can’t be wearing those,” he motioned to your jeans. “So pants. Off.”

     You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you grumbled. “But don’t look.”

     Dean chuckled but turned around. You unbuttoned your jeans and started pushing them down. “Fuck, this hurts!” you snapped when you reached the wound.

     “Dean!” you squealed when he turned around to see what was wrong. “Turn around!”

     “Sweetheart, if it hurts that much, let me help you.”

     “Fuck that! Turn around, Dean!”

     Dean rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

     Once he had turned away, you started on your jeans again. “Son of a bitch!” you yelled as pain shot through you thigh.

     “Alright, that’s it!” Dean exclaimed, dropping the supplies to your mattress. “C’mere,” he said gruffly, taking a hold of your ankles and puling you roughly towards him.

     “What the fuck, Dean?” you yelled, smacking at his hands as he gripped the sides of your waistband. “Keep your damn hands to yourself!”

     Dean sighed heavily. “Look, sweetheart, I need to clean that wound, these need to come off, and you’re obviously in no shape to take them off yourself. So I’ve gotta take them off.”

     You sighed and narrowed your eyes in contempt. “Okay, fine. You win,” you frowned.

     Dean sighed again before continuing pulling down your jeans. He was slow and unhurried. Despite your original refusal of his help, your skin tingled where his knuckles ran over your skin.

     “You good?” he asked once your jeans were off and tossed into the corner. You nodded as he helped you settle back against your pillow. Dean nodded his head in approval.

     “I’m going to clean it with some peroxide,” he said, reaching for the brown bottle. “It’s gonna burn like hell.”

     “Okay,” you said. He put a towel under your thigh before opening the bottle and pouring a stream into your wound. You clenched your jaw at the pain and gripped the sheets in your fists. Your wound bubbled as the peroxide burned out the infection.

     “Okay,” Dean said, taking the towel out from under your leg and wiping around the wound. He patted your calf. “You did great, sweetheart. Sam cried when I used peroxide on him,” he said with a playful wink. 

     You giggled as he took a bandage from the first aid kit. He placed it gently over the wound, taping the sides down. His touch was gentle, and you couldn’t help the butterflies that surfaced.

     His hand stilled on your lower thigh, and a warmth filled your belly as he looked up at you, his green eyes sparkling in the light. “Better?” he asked.

     You swallowed. “Yeah, much better. You’re really good at that,” you said without really thinking about what you were saying.

     Dean chuckled. “Well, thanks, I guess. You rest up now. No more getting out of bed.”

     “But...” you whined.

     Dean held up his hand to silence you. “Listen, sweetheart, I’m not taking off those pants again unless it’s for something a little more recreational.”

     You ducked your head, blushing profusely. Dean took that as your acquiescence and exited the room with the left over supplies.

     You stared at the door long after he had left. Had he been serious? No, you scoffed. He was only joking. Right?

**********

     A month had passed since your encounter with Dean. Dean would tip his head in greeting when he’d see you, and you were friendly in the halls, but other than that you were essentially strangers again. You told yourself you didn’t really mind. It gave you more time to focus on hunting and freed you up to spend more time with friends. Like tonight.

     Your friend, Luke, had asked you out on a date. You had had no idea he liked you as anything more than a friend, but you had always harbored a small crush on him. And since it was obvious Dean held no attraction for you, you took Luke up on his offer.

     You donned your friend, Sarah’s, strapless leather dress. The one that hugged your curves and accentuated your hourglass figure in just the right way. A windswept chignon and burgundy lipstick completed the look. You strapped on Sarah’s matching stilettos, and you were ready to go.

     You felt out of your element as you walked down the hallway that led to the library, your heels clicking on the floor. You didn’t usually dress up like this, but Sarah had encouraged you, saying it’d drive Luke crazy. If that were true, maybe you’d finally get some action. Something to get your mind off the green-eyed hunter.

     “Speak of the devil,” you murmured. Here came Dean now, head lowered as he stared at the phone in his hand. He smiled at something he read, and you felt a pang of jealousy. He was probably talking to some chick.

     “Hey, Dean,” you said nonchalantly, trying to keep the nervousness from your voice.

     “Oh, hey, (Y/N),” he said absentmindedly, and your heart sank when he didn’t raise his head as you passed. However, you missed his double glance, and the way his eyes slid down your body, landing on your ass, admiring the sway of your hips as you walked.

     “Hey, Luke,” you greeted as you walked into the war room, finding your date seated at the map table.

     A low whistle fell from Luke’s lips as he rose from the table, his eyes roaming over your body appreciatively. “Wow. You look fucking hot, (Y/N)!” he exclaimed. You lowered your gaze to the floor as heat rose to your cheeks. You were a little uncomfortable with his bluntness, but you shrugged it off as he extended his arm to you. “Ready, milady?” he asked.

     “Why, yes, kind sir,” you said playfully as you placed your hand in the crook of his arm.

     The evening passed pleasurably. There wasn’t much you didn’t already know about Luke, but you enjoyed yourself nonetheless.

     A few too many drinks later, and you stumbled back to the bunker a little after 10:00. You giggled as you unstrapped your heels, tossing them across the floor as you walked into the library. The bunker was quiet. Sam and Dean had gone out for the evening, and everyone else was either hunting or asleep.

     You giggled again as Luke came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and grazing his lips over your neck before swiping his tongue over you skin. “Mmm, you taste so fucking good,” he growled lowly.

     You turned in his arms, raising yourself on tiptoes to peck his lips. “Hold that thought,” you said. “I’m hungry.”

     “Again?” Luke asked incredulously. “We just ate!”

     “Yes, but we didn’t have dessert,” you said, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. You ran to the kitchen, grabbing the pan of leftover brownies and the jar of peanut butter.

     You returned to the library, finding Luke seated in one of the leather back chairs. You hummed as you spread a generous spoonful of peanut butter over a brownie. You heard Luke approach from behind, and you turned as he came closer. You held up the sweet treat. “Peanut butter and brownies. Two of mankind’s greatest inventions.”

     “I like brownies as much as the next guy, but you’re the only dessert I’m having tonight,” Luke groaned, placing his hands on your hips.

     You sat the brownie on the table before wrapping your arms around his neck. “Is that so, Mr. Hotshot?” you asked coyly. “A bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”

     You were startled by his lips crashing onto yours, the front of your teeth pressing bruisingly against the inside of your lips. He shoved his tongue past your lips as he roughly explored your mouth. You brushed off the uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach and surrendered to his kisses.

     His hand slid down your side, settling on your thigh. His hand ghosted over your developing scar, but then his fingers clamped down hard, sending a wave of shooting pain down your leg. You cried out as you broke away from the kiss. “Luke, you’re hurting me,” you gasped.

     Luke didn’t seem to hear you as his grip tightened, causing you to cry out again. “I ought to take you right now,” he growled in your ear. “One-up that vamp. Fuck you so hard you won’t walk for a month.”

     You whimpered as he spun you around and shoved you down onto the table. Your cheek crashed into the cool wood, and you tasted blood from where your teeth had indented the inside of your mouth.

     “Luke, please,” you begged as fear started to take over.

     “Is that what you want, (Y/N)? Want me to rip you in two?” he asked, ignoring your plea. You could feel his erection as he ground down onto your ass. One hand held your head firmly against the table while the other still clamped around your thigh, and you knew there’d be bruises in the morning.

     You had known Luke practically your whole life. You thought you knew everything there was to know about him. But this was a side of him you’d never seen before, and you didn’t like it or this sick game he was playing. Sarah said this dress would drive him crazy, but this was bordering on madness.

     You heard Luke unbuckling his pants, and you closed your eyes as you waited for the inevitable. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d been in this situation. Bobby would take care of Luke once it was over. You just wished he’d been sooner.

     You suddenly felt Luke’s weight fall away from your body. You raised your head just in time to see Dean throw Luke into the bookcase. Books tumbled from their places as Luke slid to the floor. Dean stalked over to him and pulled him up by the front of his shirt, slamming his fist into Luke’s jaw and causing him to crumple to the floor once again.

     Sam helped you up from the table and turned you towards him, his hazel eyes filled with concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, turning your head gently from side to side, surveying the damage done.

     “I...I think so,” you said, and Sam smiled sorrowfully.

     A loud crack filled the air, and you and Sam turned to find Dean kneeling over Luke, holding him down as he pummeled his fist into his face repeatedly.

     “Dean, Dean!” Sam shouted, running over to his brother. He pulled him back just as Dean raised his fist for the final blow. Dean stumbled back, his chest heaving.

     “You ever touch her again, and I’ll fucking kill you!” Dean shouted as Luke coughed, a spurt of blood shooting from his mouth.

     You stared wide-eyed as Dean finally turned towards you. “You okay, sweetheart?” he asked gently. He ran his bloody knuckles across your cheek as you looked up into his mossy eyes. Blood speckled his face, melding into the freckles that dotted his cheeks.

     You swallowed hard and nodded. “Y...yes,” you breathed.

     “Good,” he said gruffly before he abruptly turned away. “Take care of this piece of shit,” he growled to Sam, motioning to Luke who still lay on the floor, nearing unconsciousness. Dean stalked out of the room, leaving you speechless.

**********

     You spent the next two weeks hidden away in your room. You felt empty, the only feeling being shame. It wasn’t the first time it had happened. The other times it had been strangers, monsters hell bent on causing pain. But this time it was Luke, your friend, someone you trusted with your life. This wasn’t something you’d be able to get over easily.

     A light knock sounded at your door, shaking you from your reverie. When you didn’t answer, the door creaked open, and Dean peeked around it. “Hey, sweetheart.” He smiled, but you didn’t return it.

     He sat down on the side of your bed. He reached over, settling his hand on your leg. “You doing okay?” he asked gently.

     “No, not really,” you said, your voice monotone. You stared straight ahead at the wall in front of you. You couldn’t look at him. It would be too much.

     Against your willpower, a tear escaped, sliding down your cheek and settling onto your pillow. “Oh, sweetheart. C’mere,” Dean said. You didn’t answer. “C’mere,” he said again, tugging at your hand until you sat up. He pulled you against him, your face burying into his chest. You couldn’t hold back the dam anymore as tears coursed down your cheeks and settled into his flannel.

     “It’s not your fault,” he whispered as if reading your thoughts. “He won’t hurt you anymore,” Dean added firmly, and there was something in his tone that told you not to ask what had happened to Luke. 

     Dean held you close until your tears finally subsided. You pulled away, your eyes red-rimmed. You reached up, running your fingers over his stubbled cheek.

     Dean’s lips were suddenly on yours, but unlike Luke’s, Dean’s kisses were soft and gentle, and you welcomed his touch.

     Dean laid you down gently on the mattress, his lips never leaving yours. His hands roamed freely, but you weren’t afraid, not like with Luke.

     Dean pulled away as his hands settled on your waistband, his fingers deftly unbuttoning your jeans. “Dean, what are you doing?” you panted as he started sliding down your pants. He paused his movements when he reached your thigh. His fingers ran over your scar, the sides of it still showing signs of Luke’s violence.

     “I told you, sweetheart. I wouldn’t be taking these off again unless it was for something a little more recreational,” he said with a provocative smirk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading!

***Please do not share my content on any other platform without my consent.

[slippinmickeys]

Release Valve (10/10): TechGnosis

(To read this in its entirety, go here)

Scully awoke suddenly to the sound of pounding at her door. Mulder came awake next to her a second later with a sharp intake of breath. Mulder reached for his service weapon on the bedside table, paranoia running deep. “Want me to get it?” He asked. Scully shook her head, and quickly donned her robe. When she got to the door, she checked for Mulder behind her- he was clad in only jeans with the button and belt still undone. He had his weapon in his hand, though lowered to his thigh. He nodded at her. She opened the door. Isaacs stood there with Stone hanging limply off her shoulder, his face pale and sweating. Isaacs didn’t look much better. She’d obviously struggled getting him to Scully’s door, and looked on the edge of exhaustion. She had a small black backpack hanging off her other elbow. “Jesus!” Scully said, and swung the door wide, “bring him in!” They stumbled in, and Mulder was at their side in an instant, grabbing Stone around his other shoulder. “Into the bed!” Scully ordered. Scully stripped the duvet off the top and they deposited Stone in the bed. He gave a weak groan. Scully immediately went to the bedside, and pried his hand away from his side. “He’s been shot!” She said, turning an accusing eye toward Isaacs, who was bent over, hands on her knees, breathing heavily. Isaacs nodded at her.

“We need to call an ambulance,” Scully said. “No!” Isaacs said quickly, “We can’t! Can you treat him?” Scully cut her eyes to Mulder, who gave her an imperceptible nod. “After I do, I want to know exactly what the hell you guys have been up to,” Scully said, not amused. Scully’s bedside manner with Stone was much more gentle, though she began quietly barking orders to Mulder and Isaacs, who hopped-to. Mulder retrieved her doctor’s bag from her closet. After a thorough triage, it looked like the bullet that hit Stone went through cleanly, and the bleeding had slowed. Scully got some liquids into him and sewed him up, wishing she’d had some anesthetic. She got him resting comfortably and headed for her living room, closing the door halfway so she could still hear if something went wrong. She found Mulder, now fully dressed, and Isaacs sitting on her couch, deep in discussion. She interrupted them. She was fuming. “Agent Stone lost a lot of blood,” she said, “he should be in a hospital.” “Scully,” Mulder started to say. “Don’t,” she said, swinging her eyes to Isaacs. “What happened tonight?” “We were following a lead,” Isaacs said, “at a Department of Defense offsite location.” “Of course,” Scully said bitterly, looking at Mulder, “I guess you did train them up your way.”

He had the good sense to look contrite.

“Agent Scully, are you aware of some of the cyber security countermeasures Stone has enacted on behalf of the X-Files unit?” Isaacs asked her. It was Scully’s turn to look abashed. She’d not invested much time following up on how the newer agents were settling in to the unit or what they were up to. She’d relied on Mulder doing that, having been taken up with her own concerns, having been taken up with him. She shook her head. “Agent Stone wrote a program,” Isaacs went on, “when he first started with the unit. I can’t claim to understand exactly how it all works, but in essence, it monitored our computers for interference.” “He found someone interfering?” Scully asked. “Today,” Isaacs nodded. “The Department of Defense?” Scully asked. She’d been around the basement office long enough to not sound too skeptical. “It was an offsite location,” Isaacs said, “I’m not sure how ‘official’ it is.” Scully nodded, all of this sounding familiar. “Stone convinced me we should check it out before we brought it you and Agent Mulder.” “Why?” Asked Scully. “Because of what we found,” came Stone’s voice from behind her. Stone stood weakly in the bedroom doorway, his hand on the door handle. “Let me explain,” he said, as Scully rushed to his side. “You need to be resting,” she said gently but insistently, and helped him back into bed. Mulder and Isaacs came to stand in the doorway. “Come in, please,” Stone said, his voice quiet. Scully started to protest, but he held up a hand. “I need to tell you,” he said, “in case something happens.” Once again Scully tried to object.

“This can’t wait,” he said. He cut his eyes to Isaacs. “Jasmine, will you grab my backpack?” She brought it to his side. He looked up at her gratefully. “The program Isaacs is talking about is kind of a ‘hack-back’ program. A computer at the DOD site tried to hack us today, and I backdoored into their system.” He took a breath, and Scully nodded, giving him a moment. “I designed it to be quick, in-and-out so I could remain undetected, but I set it up to search the invading system for keywords related to the X-Files. I picked a few names and references scattered throughout the files, old and new. Threat assessment. Trying to figure out what they were after.” He reached into the small pack and pulled out a sheet of paper, crumpled from being in the bag. He handed it to Scully. It read: <<<Vincent, Marcie Lynn#>>> <<< Scully, Dana Katherine#>>> <<<MUFON>>> <<< Hagopian, Elizabeth Marie#>>> <<<Spender, Cassandra Ann#>>> <<<Spender, (?)(***)#>>> <<<Northern, Penny# >>> <<<Kevin Scanlon, MD>>>

Scully felt her stomach drop. She sat on the bed and handed the sheet to Mulder. He stared at it. “After we got in,” Stone said, adjusting himself on the bed with a grimace and then pointing to the paper in Mulder’s hand, “I got a look at everything. I know what it means.” XxXxXxXxX Mulder couldn’t take his eyes off the paper. The implications of all the names on it were legion. Finally he looked up, connected eyes with Scully and then turned to Stone. “What does it mean?” He asked. “Of the pinged keywords that my computer picked up,” he said, “The names with the pound sign have a chip implanted in the back of their neck.” Scully looked like she was going to be sick. “The DOD, or whoever is running the off-site we went to,” he went on, “has a computer and a program that controls the chips.” He pulled a small black cube and a sleek looking computer out of the pack and held them up. “I’m calling it the God Module,” he said. Mulder felt suddenly galvanized. “That’s it?” Mulder said, taking a step toward the bed, “That’s the computer that controls the chips?” “The one and only,” Stone said in all seriousness. “And that’s not all I found.” He pulled a smaller device out of his backpack. It was Isaacs turn to take step closer to him. “Is that what you pulled off the PC?” She asked him. He nodded. “What is it?” “It’s the Master List,” he said. “It’s the names of everyone with a chip, and what current program each chip is running.” Mulder connected eyes with Scully, electric. XxXxXxXxX

The excitement of relaying the information he’d found had only momentarily energized Stone. He lost steam and was now fitfully asleep. Isaacs was passed out on Scully’s couch, an afghan thrown over her. Mulder and Scully were in Scully’s kitchen, heads bent together, talking quietly. They would not be sleeping that night. “We can’t keep them here,” Scully said, “they’re going to figure out who broke into the DOD building, and it’s not going to take a lot of algebra to figure out were they went next.” Mulder nodded, agreeing. “If that God Module really is what Stone thinks it is,” Mulder said, “we might have some leverage.” “If that God Module really is what Stone thinks it is…” Scully said, not needing to finish the thought. Mulder pulled her to him in a tight embrace. They stood like that for a while, breathing each other in. “The agents in this unit have a really terrible habit of breaking the law,” Scully said, her voice muffled in his shirt. Mulder chuffed out a breathy chuckle. Laws, he thought, were easy to break. For her he would have broken laws of physics, of time. For her he would create matter, destroy it, push an immovable object through an impenetrable force. “Comes with the territory,” was all he said, his nose in her hair, his heart in his throat. XxXxXxXxX

It was before dawn, and Mulder had gingerly loaded Stone into the back of his car. Scully got into the back as well, keeping an eye on her patient. Stone reached for the seatbelt with a grimace and Scully stopped him. “Skip it,” she said, and Stone looked relieved. He slowly sunk down until he was lying across the seat, his head on Scully’s leg. “We’re both going to pretend this isn’t awkward, okay?” He said. Isaacs jumped in front and they drove to Crystal City. Light traffic at a dark hour, Mulder was pretty sure they hadn’t been followed. Mulder pulled up to the curb in front of a high rise and made a quick call. Ten minutes later, Deputy Director Skinner came out of the front of the building in a tee shirt and jeans and leaned down to the open passenger window. “Sir?” Mulder said, bending down to look over, “I’m afraid we’re going to need some help.” Skinner took a look around the inside of the car, stood, and pinching the bridge of his nose, begrudgingly nodded. XxXxXxXxX The safe house was off Fort Hunt Road in a suburb near Mount Vernon, a small ranch house tucked into the woods with a long driveway, the prying eyes of neighbors kept at bay. Stone was set up in a small bedroom, hooked up to an IV drip, pouring over the computer in front of him. Mulder was perched on his bedside, intently looking at the screen. They’d been in deep quiet discussion for the better part of the day when Scully leaned in the doorway. “Everything okay in here?” She asked. She’d taken to one of the other bedrooms when they arrived and managed to get a couple of hours of sleep. Mulder had been too jacked on adrenaline. Stone and Mulder looked up simultaneously, with eager expressions on their faces, then Mulder looked to Stone, who nodded. Mulder rose and came to the door. “I think we’ve got this figured out,” Mulder said to her quietly, and closed the door halfway, leading Scully through the small living room. Isaacs was in the corner talking on the phone with her boyfriend in hushed tones. There was an agent on guard duty leaning on the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee. He nodded to them as they made their way through and out onto the small deck in the back. The day was sunny, and the woods surrounding the property were a sparkling jade. Birdsong filled the air. “So,” said Scully, leaning against the short railing of the deck, “what says the computer? Do I get to take this thing out?” She vaguely gestured to the back of her neck. Mulder turned so his backside was resting on the railing next to her, their bodies facing different directions. “Maybe,” he said. Mulder looked out at the blazing green woods and was reminded of the Emerald City. Once more into the breach of the great and powerful Oz. He already had courage, he thought, looking at Scully. He already had heart. XxXxXxXxX They were all gathered in the living room when Skinner came in the front door, the front door agent with him. He nodded at Mulder. “Murphy, Taylor, can you wait for us outside for a bit?” Skinner said. The agents on guard duty mumbled affirmatives and trooped out the door. Once they were out, Skinner looked to Mulder. “I’ve got the place,” Skinner said. Mulder nodded. “What place?” Scully asked him, confused. “A location for a meeting with the Smoking Man,” Mulder said. Scully felt her stomach turn. “Mulder,” she said. “No,” he replied before she could go on. “This time it’s on our fucking terms.” He turned to Stone. “Let’s show them,” he said. Stone flipped his laptop around on the coffee table and they all huddled in to see the small screen. “The Master List,” Stone said, pushing a few buttons. “It seems to be categorized by, let’s just call them ‘patients,’” he said, giving a deferential look to Scully. “This is the group of patients Agent Scully is a part of,” he brought up a subset of names. Scully leaned further in. Amongst the names in her group were Cassandra Spender, Betsy Hagopian, Penny Northern. “Penny…” Scully said, feeling a pang of emotion. “Agent Scully and the other patients on this list have their chip set to program ‘A.’” “Abductee?” Isaacs asked quietly. “Maybe,” said Stone, “we know from our files that many of the people on this list were abducted for a period of time. All returned. Many are now deceased.” “The ones who removed the chip,” Scully said with certainty. “It appears that way,” Stone said. He went on. “There’s another group of patients set to program ‘C’,” he said, pointing to the screen. “There are some names here, and some code names. Those I haven’t been able to decipher.”

Marcie Vincent. Names of other people. Other kids, thought Scully. “We don’t yet know the function of program ‘C’,” Stone went on. The information I downloaded only refers to these patients within the context of a ‘Project Ramet.’” “Are they…” Scully took a second, “are the Program C kids’ chips controlled by the God Module?” “Yes,” said Stone. “I’m almost certain.” “This group,” he said then, looking to Skinner, “have chips set to program ‘H’.” Mulder looked at the list, running his finger down the screen through the names. He stopped on one. “CGB Spender,” Mulder said, looking at Skinner, then at Scully. “From what I can glean,” said Stone, nodding, “the chips for the members of this group are set to a program functioning in accordance with the immune system.” “With what objective?” Isaacs asked. “To fight bacteria,” Stone said, “to fight viruses.” “So much for vaccines,” Mulder said. “That’s not possible,” Scully said, “the science… This kind of technology is decades away, if it’s even possible.” Stone looked meaningfully at Mulder. Mulder cut his eyes to Scully and she began to wonder if there was something they weren’t telling her. “Here’s the thing,” Mulder said, “with Stone’s God Module, we can take all program ‘A’ patients and deprogram the chip. Or change it to run program ‘H.’” “And vice versa,” Isaacs said, starting to understand what Mulder was saying. “You can turn the tables on this Smoking Man, or CGB Spender, or whatever his name is, and then we’re in charge of his chip.” “If he removes it, he gets cancer,” Scully added quietly. Mulder nodded. “And I suspect some of the other names on this list are other men we know. Men we know to be working with the Smoking Man.” “The Syndicate,” Skinner said. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have a little leverage?” Mulder asked, leaning back. “There’s leverage,” said Stone, “and then there’s leverage.” XxXxXxXxX

“So,” Stone began. He had the God Module up and ‘running,’ had played with it for a while, getting a feel for the technology. “What’s the location for the meeting with CGB Spender?” Skinner told him. “I think I need to convert that to coordinates,” he said. “Latitude and longitude.” While Isaacs, Stone and Skinner were trying to figure that out, Scully put a hand on Mulder’s arm. “You’re going to program his chip to send him to this location?” She asked him, her voice low. Mulder squeezed her hand. “Let’s see how he likes it this time,” he said. “I’m coming with you,” she said. “Scully—“ He started. “No,” she said, “I want to see the look on his face.” Mulder gave her a small smile. “Atta girl,” he said, quietly. XxXxXxXxX The location Skinner had picked had been an old quarry in Maryland. There were two FBI snipers on either side of the cliffs, and several teams handpicked by Skinner located at the entrance. There was no other exit. Mulder and Scully waited in a car in the middle of the open quarry, Isaacs and Skinner in another about 50 yards away. Stone was still at the safe house with the God Module, in constant contact with Isaacs. If the Cancer Man showed up as he was ‘programmed’ to do, they would know the device was working and Stone would immediately reprogram all of the patients. Scully wondered if she would feel anything. At the hour appointed by the God Module, a large dark sedan pulled into the quarry, tires crunching as it slowly pulled up to the car Mulder and Scully were waiting in. When the car’s ignition was cut, Mulder and Scully got out. CGB Spender got out of the car slowly and came to stand in front of them. He said nothing, his eyes were unblinking. Mulder and Scully exchanged a look. With a sniff of awareness, he came to himself, blinked and looked around. Scully took in the flash of surprise on his face with some satisfaction. “Wondering how you got here?” Scully asked. “I can relate.” The man took a moment before responding. “You have it, then?” He asked. “We have it,” said Mulder. “Then you’d better keep it safe,” he said. “You’re not calling the shots anymore,” Mulder said. Scully could see the muscles flex in his jaw. “I never was,” the man said. Scully saw a flash of something in the man’s face, but couldn’t put a name to it. “We want Marcie Vincent returned to her family,” Mulder said. The man nodded. He didn’t even attempt to put up a fight. “And I want to know about Project Ramet,” Mulder said. For the first time the smug smile returned to the man’s face. “I’ll just bet you do,” he said, reaching into his pocket to pull out a pack of Morleys. Mulder pulled a small knife out of his pocket and took a step forward. “Your chip is running program A now,” Mulder said, “and there’s nothing I’d like more than to cut that thing out of your neck right here, right now.” “Killing me won’t stop Project Ramet, Agent Mulder,” the man said, “and there are some things even I don’t know.” He pulled a lighter out of his pocket and lit his cigarette. “You’ve ensured Agent Scully’s enduring health, you hold the technology to exercise great power, and you have me and other members of my cabal over a barrel, as it were.” The man went on, “You’re closer now than you ever were to finding what you seek.” XxXxXxXxX “We should have arrested him,” Scully said. She and Mulder were in their car, on their way back to the safe house. They needed to figure out where to keep the God Module, how to keep it safe. There would be a never ending line of parlous adversaries out to get it. “We need him to release Marcie Vincent,” Mulder said, pulling into a scenic overlook off the Parkway. “And we’ll probably need him in the future. You could say he works for us, now.” Scully nodded. He was right. “What are we doing?” Scully asked. Mulder didn’t answer, just walked over to the passenger seat and opened it up for her, gave her a hand out. It was another beautiful day, the sky a piercing blue. The overlook was perched over the Potomac, and there were few people pulled in. A young couple was sitting on top of the small neat stone wall, sharing a sandwich. Their dog, a yellow lab, was sitting at their feet hoping for a dropped morsel. Mulder grabbed Scully’s hand and walked with her toward a wooded picnic area. The dog rose as they passed, his tail wagging gently. He gave one short woof once they were past. “Everyone’s a critic,” said Mulder. They sat down at a picnic table, turned toward the river. “So it’s done,” Scully said, knowing that the minute the Smoking Man showed up to the quarry Stone had reset her chip. “It’s done,” Mulder said. XxXxXxXxX He hadn’t realized that the ever-looming threat of her illness coming back had weighed so heavily on him. A world without Scully was not a world he wanted to live in. It was like a release valve had been flipped open, the pressure on his heart hissing out into the ether. He took one deep breath and let it flow out of him, feeling lighter, feeling free. They sat for a moment in comfortable silence. “How soon do you think I can takethis thing the hell out of my neck?” She asked, leaning companionably into his shoulder. He took a breath. “There’s one thing Stone and I discovered while we were in the safe house that he didn’t share,” Mulder said. “Something you need to know.” Mulder saw Scully tense, and he reached out and took her hand. “If you leave the chip in,” Mulder said, his voice steady, his gaze locked on hers, “the God Module can restore your fertility.”

Scully’s eyes slid closed, and with a slight upturn of her lips, she canted her face to the sun.

“I get it now,” she finally said.

“Get what?” Mulder asked gently.

“You,” she said, simply.

He cocked his head to the side, a question.

“Mulder, I want to believe,” she said. He knew then what love was. It was the gunmetal slide of a pistol, a snow cat prowling at 40 below. The whorls of her fingerprints pressed into his skin. It was purpose and frustration, illumination and regret. It was her smile in profile, composed against the sky.

[nananaptime]

Unforgettable

Masterlist Rules

Genre: So much fluff you’ll get cavities

Word count: 1 750

Summary: What happens at the party, stays at the party?

~

A party was never your most comfortable setting. It was too loud, too crowded and too hot in the house where the event was being held. There was no possibility of having a real conversation due to the thumping music sounding through the building and a conversation was what you needed to have a good time and make friends. Dancing around and getting drunk just wasn’t enough for me but rather activities outside of my comfort zone. Now, many people would encourage one to step out of their comfort zone to grow, but rather than feeling growth, I felt suffocated.

There were people at this party that I did recognize, some of them were classmates I’d actually socialized with before, others were friends I’d made during other events more suited to my taste. They all had something in common; they were enjoying themselves, everyone with a drink in hand no matter if they were dancing or not. There was one, however, who was enjoying himself a lot more than the rest, one who was currently owning the dancefloor as he tried not spilling his drink while his hips moved as if on their own accord. I watched him in amusement, knowing that he would be half-dead in the morning.

Jacob wasn’t a heavy partier, but when he attended one, he went all in, meaning, he got drunk and danced the night away. Normally, he was a rather calm person, sometimes quite savage but mostly just an angel, so seeing him acting like this was extremely amusing. I found myself wondering whether or not he would even remember the details of tonight once it was over. The more he danced, the more people started crowding around him, howling at his extreme moves which only egged him on even more, resulting in most of his drink spilling all over the floor, I just shook my head at him. Somehow, he managed to not spill anything on himself, it was like a power he had, to never actually look like he had just attended a party.

I left him to it and entered the kitchen to get some water, not being much of a drinker myself, I avoided getting any alcohol into my system. I hadn’t been standing by the sink for long before the music was turned off and someone announced a game of seven minutes in heaven. I rolled my eyes, considering whether or not the house was filled with 14-year olds or 20 to 25-year olds. Deadset on not participating in this particular activity, I sat down by the kitchen table and pulled out my phone, checking the time to see when I was allowed to leave without being rude. After having noted that it was 10.04 pm, I was interrupted by a not-so-sober Jacob, eyes shining with happiness as he laid them on my tired form by the table.

“Y/N! Let’s go!” He skipped up to the table and pulled me from the chair, not leaving me any choice but to sit down in the circle of people while Kevin, the host, shook a bowl in circles, mixing notes with names around in it. Dread filled my body at the thought of having to enter a small space with a stranger, not due to the risk of being forced into anything, but more due to the inevitable awkwardness that would occur. Beside me, Jacob was shaking with excitement.

As the game started and progressed, people entered and exited the closet with a variety of reactions; some blushed to their roots, others exited with giggly smiles on their faces and some just left as if nothing had happened, and who knew, maybe nothing did.

Once it was my time to choose, I wanted nothing more but to be out of there but the excited look on Jacob’s face convinced me to just go along, I could handle some awkward minutes well enough. So, with my fingertips brushing against the edges of the folded notes, I grasped the first one I found and pulled it out, opening it slowly as to tease the boy beside me. However, as I read who my partner was, I felt the colour drain from my face and my heart speed up in my chest. Then I looked at him, and despite his intoxicated state, he understood my look. He stood up and, like the gentleman he is, reached his hand out for me to take before leading me to the walk-in closet.

Jacob closed the door behind him, drowning out the whistles and howls, then he looked at me with such admiration in his eyes that I had to look away to hide the blush which crept up my face. He reached out, grasping my shoulder and turning me around with ease, hopefully not catching the redness of my face due to the dim lighting of the closet. His hands cupped my cheeks once I was facing him completely, and for a while, he just stared at me.

“I always get so captivated by how pretty you are, you know,” he whispered, eyes still locked on mine. It felt like we stood there for ages, not looking away from one another, before he opened his mouth again, this time asking something which caused my heart to skip a beat.

“Can I kiss you?” Even now, he still managed to be a gentleman. With a small nod from me, he took a step forward, still cradling my face, before leaning in, pausing a moment as to make sure I wanted this, then he pressed his soft lips to mine. It was just a small kiss, no longer than a couple of seconds, yet, it still managed to make me a puddle in his arms. We pulled away just in time for the closet to swim in light as Kevin opened the door, giving us a meaningful smile as we walked out, as he had known all along what had happened in the closet.

I knew better than to take the event to heart, considering the state Jacob was in and the fact that he might not even remember it in the morning, so I pretended like nothing, even though it felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest, and drove him to my place when the time started nearing 1.00 am. Once there, I made him take my bed where I put him to bed after a big glass of water and a kiss to the forehead. He was out in a couple of seconds.

 ~

The next day, to Jacob’s dismay, I dragged him out of bed to get him to class in time. He knew what he was getting himself into when he asked me whether or not he could sleep at my place after the party as I am quite strict regarding attendance, and so I gave him a pill for his headache and made him get dressed. Within forty minutes, we were out the door.

“Y/N!” he whined, dragging his feet behind him as we made our way towards the building. “Why are you doing this to me, this lecture isn’t even mandatory.” I just laughed at his actions as he clung to my arm, cuddling his face into my shoulder. he would thank me later when he realised he wouldn’t have to study as much later on.

As his face digger deeper into my shoulder, I forced myself not to react to his affection. It’s not like this was something unusual, however, it affected me more due to what went down the evening before. He didn’t seem to remember it himself, as he hadn’t mentioned it or even showed any signs or recalling it, so I didn’t bring it up, afraid that it would change our friendship for the worse. No matter my efforts to stay unbothered, my heart still picked up and soon it felt like it would jump out of my chest. I turned around, causing him to face my front instead of my back, he looked extremely tired as he stood there, pouting at me.

“We only have this lecture today, afterwards, we can go home to my place again and take a nap, okay?” He reluctantly nodded, following me begrudgingly once I turned again and entered the building.

I had to snap him awake a couple of times during the lecture, but once it was over, he was the first one out the door, getting a small energy burst at the realisation of freedom. We walked over the campus quickly, looking forward to the well-deserved nap we would be having once inside my apartment. He grabbed my hand and almost dragged me towards the apartment complex, too excited to wait.

He kicked off his shoes and almost ran towards my bedroom, not asking if he could have my bed but taking the freedom of it anyway. I entered after him, intending to make him comfortable because even though it was his fault alone that he was so tired, I felt slightly bad for him. He smiled at me as I grabbed the cover and put it on him, causing butterflies to settle in my belly. They didn’t really disappear when he grabbed my arm and pulled me down next to him, adjusting the cover so it covered both of us. I froze, not knowing how to react as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer. It didn’t go unnoticed and he instantly let me go and I turned to him, meeting his worried face.

“Is this not okay? I’m sorry. If you’re uncomfortable I’ll back off.” I shook my head.

“No, it’s fine, I just didn’t expect it.” He nodded and wrapped me in his arms again, this time not as tight.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I should’ve asked. I just thought it was fine after what happened yesterday.” Hearing that, I looked up at him quickly, staring at him with wide eyes.

“You remember?” He laughed at me.

“Of course, I remember. I didn’t have that much to drink, excuse you.” I couldn’t help but laugh along with him as I cuddled closer into his chest. “Also, I’m not likely to forget something I’ve been wanting to do for years now.”

“I’m happy you remember,” I said as a hot blush covering my face.

“So am I.”

With that said, he pressed a sweet kiss to my forehead before we both drifted off into a deep sleep.

[stusbunker]

Known: Mark Your Move

A Supernatural Dark Fan-fiction

Featuring: Dean Winchester x Demon!reader, Sam, Dean x Female Vessel OC

Series Masterlist // Full Masterlist

Summary: Chloe’s beginning to feel the demon inside her while Dean accepts the Mark of Cain.

Word Count: 2784

Warnings: Possession and therefore dub!con smut, angry sex, oral sex (male receiving), vaginal sex, spanking, cream pie, voyeurism (sort of?), Angst.

Location: West Newton, Pennsylvania

Time was never noted until lives were on the line. Then it was seconds and space between her and the victims, distance from her to making the kill shot or whipping her knife across a room. All her life, CC managed to avoid the business week blues and oddly nostalgic rites of passage because she had never been a normal kid. And as an adult, she lived on the schedule of the hunt, traveling and existing outside of the designated 9 to 5 concept of working hours. But now that she was losing chunks of time, every other certainty seemed to be failing her. It happened in moments of intense adrenaline, episodes where she got from one place to another without consciously making the choice to move. Vampires were decapitated, werewolves were shot, and ghosts were burned all with little to no knowledge of her contributions. Until she washed the blood and graveyard dirt from her hands, she hadn’t realized the jobs were done.

Then there was Dean, an hour white-knuckling through interchanges all because she found out Kevin Tran was dead. Because Dean Winchester let an angel infest Sam. What the hell had he been thinking? Then suddenly, nothing. She woke to a stale half eaten doughnut and two unmade beds. Chloe stayed in the motel for another day and night after Dean left, her mind leaving her with bigger and bigger questions and although it was blaringly clear this wasn’t just a particularly nasty hangover. She begrudgingly started to question her stability. Screw genetics.

January 21, 2014

Dean was getting to be too predictable, but he was on his own, which meant this rare window of opportunity was not to be ignored. Crowley kept a tail on the girl Dean left at the motel while he found himself a seat at the bar. Always the salesman, he let the juicy details of the penultimate weapon ooze from his mouth. After all the time he spent holed up in their basement, he was going to enjoy the game. All around the mulberry bush, the demon teased the squirrel.

Pierre, South Dakota

February 6, 2014

           “How you doing, Squirt?” CC leaned to look Sam in the eye as they shook hands.

           “Good, yeah, well, better,” Sam shrugged.

           “Man, I knew you were a magnet for the most extreme, but another Angel possession? That’s not something you forget. My Gran—”

           Sam cleared his throat as Dean stalked out of the precinct, notepad still in his hand. Relief evident as the line of questioning was interrupted, “So?”

           “Richard Evans, 58, healthy, died while shoveling,” Dean started. “But get this, he was frozen from the inside out.”

           “Same as the others,” CC added, not surprised.

           “Yes, but he had no beef with anyone. In fact, everyone loved the guy.” They walked to the Impala, CC following to slip into the backseat.

           “Okay, let’s start with the widow and then maybe find out more from the other families. Maybe there is a connection the locals missed?” her voice was smooth and to the point, but Dean tensed as he caught her eyes in the rear view mirror.

           “Yeah, sounds good,” Sam agreed. “We have enough going on, between the three of us it should be an easy close.”

           “Don’t say that man,” Dean sighed.

           “Wait, what else is going on?” Dean and Sam had a silent argument in the front seat as CC watched in mild amusement.

           “What Dean doesn’t want to tell you, Chloe, is that he decided to let Crowley convince him to get Marked by Cain. You know, the first murderer,” Sam snipped as Dean drove down the street.

           “You’re just jealous I didn’t bring you an autograph, Sammy,” Dean’s deflection fell on deaf ears.

           The story unfolded, the gravity of the situation and the unknown effects of the curse tossing you into a demonic tizzy. One the one hand, Crowley was free and ever present in the life of someone you wouldn’t leave be. On the other hand, an ancient primal evil now resided in Dean’s flesh, damning and devious, making you tremble with anticipation. CC was much more affected by the first hand’s affairs. Climbing out of the car, CC quickly caught up to the Winchesters on the sidewalk.

           “Dean, do you not fucking listen?! To any of us? I just told you to stop making deals with fucking monsters and what’s the next thing you do? Leave me in a motel to answer your Angel buddy’s concerns about Sam and grace tracking, only to follow it up by going on a hunt for an Old Testament villain, WITH the Goddamn King of HELL?!” She had a fair point.

“Alright, enough!” Dean glared at CC before heading into the victim’s house. “Look, you want to chew me out, fine. Not here, not now. We’ve got a case, when we have the time, you know where to find me. For now, zip it, Cease.”

If you had a jaw of your own, you would have been scraping it off the pavement. She had provoked him in a way you hadn’t seen, it sent your every nerve on fire. CC seemed almost as shocked as you were, a cold strip straightened her spine as she gaped back at Dean. He waited, chin hitching at the sudden silence. If he had more to throw at her, he held back, rapping his thick knuckles on the simple front door.

Sam quirked his head, brow pinched, and lips pursed. Even though he seemed to share your (and CC’s) sentiments, you really wanted to smack that look off his face. Luckily for every human involved, the vic’s wife answered the door.

***

Through some subtle hints and piercing glances, Dean ditched Sam for the afternoon. CC felt the heat of her anger and a pull from the power inside him, battle for her will. Some twisted judgement won bringing her to Sam and Dean’s motel room, after intentionally making Dean wait for it. Chloe knocked twice before straightening her shoulders to look him dead in the eye.

Dean’s wide palm rested against the door, barring her from entering. His heavy glare pinned her to the spot, a deep chill ran through her, clawing you awake inside her mind. Heat pinched at her temples, her body reacting as your lust fueled the fire that started within her veins. Dean watched, seeing the strain simmer in her eyes, contracting pupils and breaths giving him all he needed. The Mark was ruddy on his smooth skin, it taunted her; you longed to bite it. The fear elevated her senses as he leaned forward, his body heat hummed a forbidden melody. Menacing and meticulous.

He spoke to the door, his voice low and gravelly, eyes on the over-painted wood grain, “You don’t have to do this.”

“I don’t?” she snipped back, head snapping to lock on to Dean’s darkening irises. Chloe regretted it instantly, because his lips were at her eye level instead. Dean snapped his tongue behind his teeth, licking his lips knowingly. She rolled her eyes, impetuous, while his whiskey and grease tinged breath straightened every hair on the back of her neck. She couldn’t hide the shiver, her eyes falling closed as she tried to roll the tension from her shoulders.

His amusement rumbled in his chest, the arrogance spreading her frustration across her face.

“But you want to.” Dean finished, looking down at her with a mix of playfulness and an unnamable glint.

“I’m not the only one,” she whispered once Dean’s warm lips fell on the gentle slope of her neck. He rocked his hips into her side, a hearty affirmation.

‘Bitch, do you hear yourself?!’ you balked. If she didn’t keep it together, you were taking over, this wasn’t a game. Her pornographic sigh brought you back to the surface, finding his hands now gripping her waist firmly as her hands worked his belt. In a frenzy of unfastening and some scrapping of nails, they freed each other from their clothing. She ached with want and as he led her down to the perfectly made bed, you took hold, locking her away with a single thought.

Everything was impossibly soft, except him. Dean was bulk and angles, hidden behind the smoothest of skin. His length dug into your stomach and as you felt him whole and ready in your hands at last, a visceral growl escaped your lips. He shifted, gripping your collar bone as his mouth popped open letting out the sweetest of gasps. You watched him hungrily, taking in each subtle reaction as you stroked him.

As much as you loved the show, it was time to find your seat. With a brush of your lips over his, you slid down his body, nails of your free hand leaving a delicious path down Dean’s heaving chest, stopping at his flat, yet soft stomach. Your knees fell beside his feet, and he finally opened his eyes to look down at you. His desire and reverence twisted in your gut, in attempt at averting them completely: you shoved down those thoughts that bordered on feelings.

You braced yourself against his thigh and began to drag your tongue from base to tip of his pulsing cock. When Dean hissed you repeated the motion, soon his massive hands were in your hair, pulling you closer without ceremony. You dragged your teeth over the path you had laid, and he loosened his hold, palms finding their way to rest on your shoulders, heavy and warm. You hummed in satisfaction and got to work.

His swollen head offered you a sample of his flavor, taking it with your tongue as your lips encased him.

***

Dean was trying to stay upright, his toes curled, digging into the floorboards as Chloe’s mouth pulled him into pure bliss. Her lips were strong and tongue sinful, lapping at the broad veins and channel along the underside of his dick. Her rough hand was nibble, cupping his sack with each bob of her head. Just as he slowly began to roll his hips to add to her rhythm, the softness of her mouth gave way to the burning drag of teeth, Dean pushed off reflexively. Her tongue tsking against her traitorous incisors.

She fell back on her heals, a menacing smirk settled on her face and she spread her legs wide. Fuck.

***

His eyes flashed, taking in your challenge, while staling along the glistening entrance you teased him with. Dean visibly swallowed, looked to the ceiling and swore beneath his breath.

“On the bed,” you said plainly, standing as he gathered himself. His distrust only deepened your resolve. He pursed his lips and looked down at you, in a jarring motion a firm arm pinned you to his chest.

It came out as a rumble against your ear, “Ladies first.”

Your neck rolled, exposing your throat to his hot mouth, body instinctively submitting to him, despite your every effort to control the situation. He took the opening and sucked forcefully against the sensitive muscles. He backed you into the bed, thighs hitting the mattress top and suddenly he was gone, releasing the vice like grip of his lips and his roaming hands in a calculated gesture. It was his turn to taunt you, he rubbed his long and reddened member as you debated your next move.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” Dean moaned, want and frustration burning you with a mossy glare.

“Hey, you’re the one jacking off while there is a pussy wet and waiting right here,” you snapped, turning your back to him, climbing on to the bed. He didn’t disappoint. Dean grabbed your hips so fast you lost your breath. He bent you further, nipples brushing against the stiff comforter. His hand connected with your ass cheek as the opposite hand rolled his cock over your folds.

“Now that’s what I like to see,” his voice a delicious bark, as he placed his head at your aching entrance. Suddenly he thrust through, stopping before he sighed, “better than promised.”

Dean was large and forceful, every entry of his impressive length, stretching and working you from the inside out. He perched one leg on the bed behind your thigh, holding you down on the small of your back. The pressure grew as his weight pinned you in place. You melted into the fabric, the pleasure simmered in you as he hit his target over and over again. You moaned against the chill in the air, your exposed shoulders tingling against the fire that Dean stoked within you. Every sensation built on the last, your walls shook against him and Dean muttered his appreciation.

“That’s my girl,” Dean’s voice dropped into a groan as you pushed back, trying to reassert yourself. He pounded harder, his powerful hips slamming into your ass, his nuts slapping against your clit in the most audible of ways. The fluttering started before you felt the rush and soon you had fallen over the edge.

“Deeeeeeeeeaaannnnn-,” you warned, but it was too late. You clamped down on him, frozen in place. Unable to meet his ministrations or try to gain the upper hand. You had finished first, leaving him the self-righteous victor.

“That’s it, baby, you like that?” Dean’s fingertips dug into your side while his thumb bruised your ass, the bite of his short nails adding to the heat between your legs. “You’re not done here. Stay with me, C.C.”

Right, Chloe.

That’s who he was fucking, not you, not really. The maddening realization flooded you and you locked your arms, pushing him back on two feet. His cock twitched inside your core as he heaved with strain. With both feet back on the ground, you used only her natural upper body strength to balance against the bed, countering his every thrust. You fucked him back and the motion turned violent, your ass tender and clit throbbing with it all.

He landed a heavy palm on your unmarked cheek, clenching the meat between his thick fingers. You felt her clawing at your control, her name bringing her back to the forefront of her own thoughts. You grinned at her helplessness, letting her feel the burn of his cock inside your shared cunt, but not letting her see or speak. Not yet. You felt your eyes blacken as Dean huffed and let out a sob like moan.

“Fuhhhhhh-,” he almost whimpered, and as his hips locked you felt his finish coat your insides. It was thick and heady, you pitched up on your tip toes, his strong thumbs pulling your cheeks apart to watch his seed spill around his softening shaft. “Damn, that pussy takes me so good.”

You whined once he pulled completely out, the emptiness only sated by the juiciness of his spendings. You fell forward on to the bed, reveling in every spot he had marked and abused. She was going to be sore and you owed him for the reminders. His broad chest hovered above your back, his body heat radiating against your nakedness. His mouth was tender and soft, a telltale contrast to the beast you had just wrestled.

“Told ya,” you could feel his smirk against your skin.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” His chin rested on your shoulder, his face flush against your curtain of hair that had come lose.

“Good call, Tweedle Dean,” you quipped, clenching as he tickled your sides. Falling against him and the pillows, you kissed. It was short and almost timid after everything. But, all too soon he was excusing himself to shower, while you refused to move. Reveling in the freedom and the power shutting her way had granted you. She enjoyed it, loved the feel of watching him fuck her without being the one participating. It was a narcissistic form of voyeurism, you knew as well as she did. But you had also let her into your own thoughts.

Sharing on that level was dangerous. And so, you spent the remainder of the afternoon repainting her memories, reliving the events in her mind added another layer of arousal between your thighs. With eyes closed and mouth open, you feigned sleep, feeling his gaze the moment he left the bathroom. You thought of all the ways he would take you next, but her mental and physical exhaustion won out, and you let her slumber wash over you both.

Once Dean was cleaned and ready to get back to the case, he left. Meeting an annoyed Sam at the bar they had run into Chloe at the night before. He couldn’t keep the smug look from his face and Sam couldn’t keep the disapproval off of his.

Tags: @mogaruke @dontshootmespence @because-imma-lady-assface @mrswhozeewhatsis @smi727 @sassykayla255 @supernaturalboi @eve05glee @veroinnumera @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @fanfictionrecommendations-com @soullesscollection-world

Next Chapter: The Prick

[ladywinchester1967]

Off the Beaten Path I Reign:

Chapter 12: Only One

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, newlyweds, SMUT, angst, feels. 

A/N: It’s FINALLY back!! I read over this chapter probably 20 times before realizing that it’s perfect just the way it is. I hope all of you enjoy this nexct chapter in Dean and Kat’s story! Unbeta’d, all mistakes are mine, pics are not. 

Lost? Wanna catch up?

HERE is the master post!!

“Made my mistakes, let you down; and I can't, I can't hold on for too long. Ran my whole life in the ground, and I can't, I can't get up when your gone.” ~ Yellowcard

After they arrived home from their honeymoon; Dean and Kat had decided that for a little while; they would avoid the bunker. Though Sam and Dean had put their differences aside for the wedding, things between them were still tense and frosty. Until they mended fences, Dean and Kat were staying in motel rooms. They'd settled into married normal life for all of two days before duty called.  On a crisp autumn morning, Dean said to Kat

“I have to step out for a little bit.” as he shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like lying to her, but he had some business to attend to that he didn't want her involved in.

“You okay? You want me to go with you?” she asked

He smiled fondly at her and cupped her cheek in his hand.

“It won't take long,” he assured her “I'll be back in a few hours.”

“Is it a hunting thing or-?” she asked, biting her lip

“Just something I need to take care of really quick.” he told her “I promise, it's nothing you need to worry about, and I'll be right back.”

She knew in her bones this was bigger than what he was letting on, whatever it was. She decided to pick her battles and simply nodded.

“Okay,” she said “and you'll come right back, correct?”

“Correct,” he said “can't leave my Khalessi unattended for too long.” and gave her a sweet smile.

They kissed and she squeezed the back of his hand

“Be careful please,” she told him “my Khal.”

“I will.” he told her

A few hours later, Kat still hadn't heard from Dean and was doing her best to keep her mind occupied while he was gone. She went on a supply run and cleaned her gun properly before she heard a voice.

“Hello darling,” a familiar British voice said from behind her.

Kat whirled around and saw Crowley behind her.

“What the hell Crowley?!” she asked as he stepped toward her.

“About that.” Crowley said and lightly pressed two fingers to her forehead, causing her to immediately collapse into his arms, out cold. “Sorry darling, but I need you as insurance.” Crowley said. He threw Kat over his shoulder and carried her out through the front door.

“What the hell Crowley?!” Kat heard Dean ask “Now I AM going to kill you!”

“Relax squirrel,” Crowley interrupted “she's just asleep, she should be waking up very soon.”

“Kat, Katlynn!” she heard Dean call and she felt her shoulder shake. She groaned in response and her eyes fluttered open. She realized she was laying in the backseat of the Impala with Dean standing over her.

“Wha happened?” she asked groggily and sat up.

“Just a light sleeping spell,” Crowley said “I'm proving that I'm trustworthy. You asked how do I know this isn't a trap? and I'm proving it isn't a trap.”

“By knocking me out and shoving me into the backseat of a car?” Kat snapped and stood up, still a little dizzy from the spell. Dean caught her as she stumbled and she made eye contact with him. He looked angry.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, cupping her face and studying it

“I'm fine.” she said “A little dizzy but I'm okay.”

He put an arm around her, holding her protectively to his side as he looked at Crowley.

“See? Not one red hair harmed on Strawberry Shortcake's head.” Crowley said with a shrug “Shall we?”

“Where are we going?” Kat asked

“WE aren't going anywhere,” Dean said, motioning between himself and Kat “YOU,” he pointed to Kat “are going to stay in a motel room until I find what I'm looking for since Buddy Holly here wants to hunt.”

“You said yourself squirrel, she's more than capable of handling herself.” Crowley said “I even grabbed Pippy Longstocking's accessories before I brought her to you.”

“Look, I'm here, you may as well let me help.” Kat said “Plus, you'll have back up in case his majesty here decides to throw you to the wolves.”

Dean raked a hand through his hair but realized she was right. He didn't have Sam or Castiel, and she was as good a back up as either of them were.

“One of my Dad's lockups,” Dean said “there might be some information on a weapon we need to beat Abbadon.”

“And what would that be?” Kat asked

“It's called the First Blade,” Dean said “it can kill a Knight of Hell.”

“And your Dad could have some information on it?” Kat asked

Abbadon was a Knight of Hell that had been a thorn in the side of the Winchesters and Crowley for the better part of a few months. A tall, redheaded vixen, she proved to be more than a worthy adversary and couldn't be killed like a regular demon could, so they had been at a loss until now.

“Possibly, I don't know for sure.” Dean said “but we're gonna go check.”

Kat nodded and said

“Okay, let's go.”

“Shot gun!” Crowley said

“No, you're in the back.” Dean told him “SHE sits up front.”

Dean guided Kat to the Impala's passenger side door and opened it, where she slid inside. Once he was out of sight, Kat stuck her tongue out at Crowley, who sneered at her. Once the Impala got rolling, Kat's phone rang, it was Castiel.

“Katlynn, where are you?” Castiel demanded

“I'm fine,” Kat told him “Crowley grabbed me. I'm with him and Dean right now.”

“You're with Dean?” Castiel asked “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, I mean why wouldn't he be?” Kat asked and looked at Dean, whose jaw clenched.

“Just,” Castiel said “be careful okay?”

“I will.” Kat said and hung up. She then looked at Dean again who had a stern look on his face as he gripped the Impala's steering wheel. Ever since Kevin's death and the dust up between Sam and Dean, it seemed like everyone was warning her to be careful around Dean. He'd never done anything to her but it seemed like everyone was worried that he would at some point. Kat pushed that thought down and reached over to him. She placed a hand on his knee, surprised to see and feel him flinch as if she'd hurt him. She gave him a slight squeeze as he pulled up to a red light and looked at her. The pain and anger he felt radiated through his expressive eyes as she gave him a softened expression. “I'm here,” she assured him quietly “let me help.”

The light turned green and he looked away from her, his expression still set.

After a few miles of quiet driving, Dean pulled over to the side of the road and said

“Okay Crowley,” and handed him a cloth bag “head in the bag.”

“What?” Crowley asked

“I didn't stutter,” Dean said “you wanna hunt? We do things MY way. Period.” his gaze shifted to Kat, who nodded, understanding that the statement wasn't just for Crowley. Crowley begrudgingly complied as Dean looked at Kat and gave her a nod.

They pulled up to a storage unit facility a few miles down the road and dragged Crowley down into a large locker where there seemed to be rows and rows of items and literature gathered by John and held up.

“God, the information that must be in here is incredible.” Kat said as she looked around.

“Don't go full dork on me yet,” Dean told her “I still need your help.”

“You know, between my parent's notes, your Dad's multitude of lock ups and that library you guys have? We could help a lot of hunters with that information.” Kat told him as they crossed into a different area of the lock up.

“We'll talk hunter college later.” Dean assured her and he wandered over to a desk, clicking on a light. Through some digging, Dean found out that a hunter named Tara had helped John interrogate a demon that had information on the First Blade so the three of them decided to go look for Tara.

Forty five minutes later, they were able to track down Tara using one of Kat's tracking spells. When they walked into Tara's Pawn Shop, they found a blonde woman with muscular arms wearing a tank top and jeans reading a book.

“Tara?” Dean asked

“That's what the sign says,” the woman said “can I help you?”

“The name John Winchester ring a bell? I'm his son.” Dean told her.

She quickly pulled out a shot gun and pointed it at Crowley.

“See, I get this funny tingle in what's left of my knee when a demon is present, so which one is it?” Tara asked Dean

“The yutz in the suit,” Dean said “the red head is my wife.”

“Formerly Katlynn Roberts, now I'm Katlynn Winchester.” Kat told her

Tara cocked her head to the side

“As in Daniel and Trina Roberts?” she asked and Kat nodded

“Let me guess? Six foot foot four red head dude and a woman about my size? Looks like a fairy?” Kat asked and Tara nodded “Yeah, those were my parents.”

“I'm the king of hell,” Crowley said and motioned to Kat and Dean “they're hunting legacies, there's a reason, we're working together.”

“Yeah, it's called possession.” Tara said and yanked a cork out of a flask and splashed both Kat and Dean in the face with it. Kat freaked out while Dean barely flinched.

“GOD, I hate it when that happens!” Kat exclaimed, wiping the water out of her eyes.

“See?” Dean asked “We're good.”  

Tara told them that she and John had, in fact worked the case Dean mentioned. They had performed and exorcism on the demon but Tara became obsessed the First Blade. She'd spent her life and messed up her knee only to get a tracking spell she couldn't complete.

“The only ingredient I couldn't find was essence of Kraken.”

“Kraken?” Kat and Crowley asked at the same time.

“YOU have essence of Kraken?” Tara asked Kat.

“A little, not a a lot.” Kat said

“I have a warehouse full of it in Belize.” Crowley said.

Kat stared at him puzzled

“Why do you-? You know what? Never mind, I don't want to know.” She said.

Half an hour and one summoning spell later, Kat, Dean and Crowley were outside Tara's shop with the location of The First Blade in hand. Dean pulled Kat to the side and held her tightly.

“Look at me,” he said and held her face in his hands “if this is as bad as Tara says it is, then-”

“I know,” she interrupted him “I'll go back to the motel room and wait for you.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at her and asked

“You're not gonna fight me on this?”

“Trust me, I want to.” she told him “but I'm not gonna, for once. Don't get used to it.”

“I know you didn't promise to obey me,” he said “but I'm kind of liking it.”

She playfully punched his shoulder

“I said don't get used to it.” she told him and kissed him. She then stretched to her tip toes and said in his ear “Bring your sexy ass home pronto.”

“You think my ass is sexy?” he asked in her ear, his fingers digging into the bottom of her spine.

“Only if you bring it home to me in one piece.” she said and kissed him heatedly.

“Mh, I'll remember that.” he growled and kissed her back.

“You better.” she told him and then poked him in the chest.

“Not to break up this newlyweded bliss,” Crowley said “but if I hear one more comment about squirrel's backside I may projectile vomit.”

“All the more reason for me to talk about it.” Kat said

“On the car.” Crowley shot back and Dean's eyes went wide as Kat released him.

Once Dean dropped her back at the motel, Kat started the nearly impossible task of keeping her mind occupied while he was gone. She straightened up the room and organized files on her tablet, just as she was editing the file on when the door burst open. Kat was immediately on her feet with her gun drawn. Two men entered the room; the first was wearing a trucker hat, puffy vest, jeans and boots. The second wore jeans, a t shirt and a black canvas jacket with boots as well.

“All alone little lady?” the first guy asked as both him and the second guy's eyes flashed black.

Kat sneered

“Oh you two are screwing with the wrong girl.” she told them “I'll be generous and let you guys walk if you leave now.”

“We're not going anywhere,” the second guy said “without you any way.”

“Lucian, we have our marching orders,” the first guy said to the second “and your friend Tara gave you and the hubby up pretty quickly.”

“She sure was Terry,” Lucian said “once we peeled the skin off her bones.”

Kat suddenly realized the gravity of the situation and knew she had to warn Dean that he was about to be in a trap. Acting quickly, she popped both demons with bullets and then grabbed her angel blade from her bag. The two men quickly surrounded her and the one called Lucian grabbed her by her hair. She yelled in pain, dropping her weapons, but had enough presence of mind to swing her arm over his, hooking her hand under his arm and bringing him down to his knees as she punched him square in the face, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch. She whirled away as the one called Terry grabbed her into a headlock. Kat quickly braced herself, using her elbow to drive into the guy's gut, making him let go as she stomped on his foot, making him fall on to the ground. By this time, Lucian was up; blood streaming down from his nose. Kat quickly gathered her gun and angel blade before running out of the room and into the woods, Terry and Lucian hot on her heels. She ran as fast as she could, trying to get as far away from them as possible, but the eventually caught up to her, tackling her to the ground. Dots swam in her vision as she hit the ground, her cheek get scratched up and Terry secured her arms behind her back.

“Come on you fucking bitch,” Terry said “let's go see what you hubby had to say about this.”

“That he's gonna kill you if I don't do it first!” she yelled as Terry yanked her up to her feet.

“You pull one more stunt like that,” Lucian said, pointing Kat's gun at her chest “and I'll put a bullet in your brain before he has a chance to do anything.”

Kat had a witty retort but realized she needed to keep her mouth shut so she could escape when the time was right. The two demons hauled her out of the woods and stuffed her into the trunk of a car, tying her ankles together and shoving some cloth in her mouth before taping it shut. As the lid of the trunk shut Kat thought

“Kidnapped twice in one day, this is to be some kind of lame record.”

Once the car got going, she remembered the knife she kept in her boot. It took some creative bending in such a small area but she managed to get to the knife and cut herself loose. She had the knife at the ready for when the car came to a stop, ready to slice those demons open and make a run for it. She was thinking up what to do when the car finally came to a stop. When the engine cut off, she heard several voices different from Jerry and Lucian's. She counted four more and realized she was way out numbered. She slid the knife back into her boot as she heard Terry yell

“Come on out Dean Winchester! We have a present for you!”

The trunk suddenly opened and Lucian dragged Kat out as she struggled against his grasp. The scene in front of her was a simple farmhouse with the Impala parked in the driveway. Kat could see Dean in one of the windows and he looked ready to murder every last demon he could get his hands on.

“DEAN DON'T!” she screamed “IT'S A TRAP!”

Dean watched from inside as Kat got punched in the stomach.

“NO!” he yelled and ran for the door. “I'm going out there.”

“Dean there's twelve of them,” Crowley said “you can't take them all.”

“THEY HAVE MY WIFE!” Dean screamed at Crowley “And I will personally skin any one of them alive that touched her!”

“Hm,” came a voice from behind them. Dean and Crowley turned to see Cain, perfectly quaffed salt and pepper hair with a matching beard “seems like they found the way to get to you, just like they did to me.”

“Colette?” Dean asked, nodding to the picture on the mantle

“Abbadon and the other Knights of Hell found us,” Cain said “I slaughtered them all, except for Abbadon. She possessed my Colette and killed her from the inside.”

“They can't possess her,” Dean said “and I won't let them kill her.”

Kat laid on the muddy ground as the demons kicked and punched her. Without warning, the doors to the farmhouse swung open and the demons looked up. They instantly left Kat alone and ran for the house as she watched with blurry vision as Dean ran up to her, Crowley right behind him.

“Oh god, no, no, no!” he yelled as he scooped her up into his arms and took her to the Impala. He set her in the front seat and hauled ass away from the farmhouse, red light coming from inside of it.

They drove in silence for a long time before Kat could finally ask

“Whose house was that?”

“Cain's.” Dean said

“Cain?” Kat asked as she held her ribs “Like Cain and Abel?”

He nodded

“Cain made a deal with Lucifer,” Dean explained “Cain traded his soul to hell for Abel’s soul to go to heaven, but Cain had to be the one to kill Abel.”

“But why?” Kat asked

“Because Abel was going to be Lucifer’s pet,” Dean told her “so to save his brother, well you know the rest.”

“But where do the Knights of Hell fit into all this?” She asked.

“Lucifer told Cain to make them, they did terrible things together as he put it.” Dean said “Cain quit because he got married and the knights wouldn't take “no” for an answer. So, the broke into Cain's house and they-” he couldn't bring himself to finish the story.

“They killed her didn't they?” Kat asked and Dean simply nodded.

They drove for a long time in silence, even Crowley had nothing to say. When they'd gotten far enough from Cain's house, Dean and Crowley got out of the Impala while Kat stayed put. Her back and ribs were pounding from the attack. After a few minutes, Crowley disappeared and Dean came over to her side of the Impala. He opened the door and gave her a once over to check her out and cleaned the cuts on her face.

“They won't scar, but they will sting like a bitch until they heal.” Dean told her as he cleaned up her face.

“What happened in that house?” She asked “Why did you have to go see Cain?”

“Got a way to beat Abbadon,” he told her “finally making some headway on getting rid of that bitch.”

She leaned toward him and was put off by the energy surrounding him. Where it was normally a comfort for her to be close to him, now all she felt was something dark just below his surface.

“Dean,” she said as she got closer “what is it?”

He rolled the sleeve on his right up and on his forearm, just below the crook of his elbow, was what looked like a burn. It was in the shape of an upside down L with two hash marks next to it. Finally, she realized where the bad energy was coming from.

“Oh my god,” she said, her eyes wide as she placed a hand over her mouth “what,” she swallowed, her eyes filling with tears “Dean what did you do?”

“This is what’s gonna help me beat Abbadon,” he told her “along with the First Blade.” The Mark seemed to pulse at the mention of the blade. “It’s called The Mark of Cain.”

Kat suddenly realized, this was bigger than what she was prepared to deal with on her own.

“That's it,” she thought “I'm calling Sam.”

The next day, Kat and Dean heard over the police wire about a John Doe that was arrested for slaughtering a cow.

“Male suspect,” Kat said, reading off the report to Dean, who was brushing his teeth “approximately six one in height, brown hair, thin build.”

Dean spat out the tooth paste in his mouth and said

“That sounds like Garth.”

Dean had mentioned the hunter, Garth. He had disappeared before Kevin was killed and before Kat had come to live at the bunker with Dean.

“Think it is him?” Kat asked

Dean rinsed his mouth and said

“It's worth checking out, the location is only a couple of hours from here.”

“Okay,” Kat said “Lets get packed and we'll head that way.”

Little did Dean know, Kat had talked to Sam the night before asking him for help with this case. She didn't mention that Dean was with her, for fear that Sam wouldn't show up.

“Where's Dean?” Sam had asked

“I haven't told him about the case yet,” Kat told him “look, I just need a fresh set of eyes if you can help me. Please?” Sam reluctantly sighed and Kat said “I don't want to pull this card, but I will. This is for me, your favorite sister-in-law remember?”

Sam was silent for a second, but then she heard him chuckle.

“Fine,” Sam said “I'll be there as soon as I can, I'm wrapping up a case in New Mexico.”

“Thanks.” Kat had told him.

When Kat and Dean had arrived at the hospital, luckily Sam hadn't beaten them there. The nurse had told them where to find the John Doe and when they arrived in the room, Dean confirmed that it was Garth. He had scratches on his face and was out cold from the pain killers he was on and he was handcuffed to the bed.

“Got any adrenaline in that Mary Poppins bag of yours?” Dean asked.

As a wedding present; Dean had gotten Kat a rucksack so that she could carry all of her essentials with her. This included a range of medical supplies, herbs and ingredients for simple spells, her grimoire, her tablet as well as a place for her knives and a pouch for extra ammunition.  

“What do I look like? A walking hospital?” Kat asked and Dean simply stared at her with a bitchy look on his face. “Yes, okay? Sheesh. Just trying to make you laugh.”

“Oh, I'm laughing on the inside.” Dean said with an eye roll, but a fond smile crossed his mouth.

Kat carefully set her bag into one of the chairs in the room. She dug through the back until she found a smaller bag where she kept her vials of things that could be injected along with different size syringes and needles for the syringes. She looked at the labels and found the vial containing adrenaline. She grabbed a syringe and attached a needle to it and then carefully measured out the drug.

“He's gonna need more than that.” Dean said as he watched her.

“I'm trying to wake him up, not turn him into Usain Bolt.” she said as she put the drug back into its proper place and then capped the needle on the syringe. “I have to go to the bathroom, don't wake him up until I get back.” Kat told Dean.

She checked her phone while in the bathroom, and realized she had a text from Sam that simply read

“Here”

“Fuck.” she thought, with his charm and those long legs of his, it wouldn't take him long to get to the room. She was just finishing up when she heard the door open. She waited before she left the bathroom and didn't hear Sam or Dean speak for a long few seconds. Sam finally spoke

“Saw Garth's John Doe on the police wire.” he said “You?”

“Yeah.” Dean said “Where are you coming from?”

“New Mexico.” Sam answered.

“Well, that's a haul.” Dean commented “Especially since we got this pretty much covered.”

“We?” Sam asked

That's when Kat left the bathroom and said “Oh good, you're here.”

Dean looked at her, his eyes widening in shock.

“You called him?” Dean asked

“Of course I called him,” Kat said “there's nothing wrong with an extra set of hands or eyes.”

Dean could tell by the way her shoulders had shifted that there was more to the reason she called Sam but decided to let it slide for now.

“You two spoken to him yet?” Sam asked

“No,” Dean said “ass load of painkillers, he's been out since we got here.”

Sam noticed the handcuffs on Garth and asked “What's he being charged with?”

“Killing a cow.” Kat told him.

Sam slightly tilted his head and asked “Why?”

“We don't know,” Dean said “we were gonna wake him up and figure out why. Lock the door.”

Sam did as he was told and Dean uncapped the syringe Kat had given him and shot a little of the adrenaline out of the tip of the needle.

“Whoa, hey!” Sam said coming back to them “What is that? Adrenaline?!”

“Yes sir.” Dean said, looking at the syringe. Kat did too and noticed there was more of the drug in the syringe than she had previously measured out.

“Dean, Jesus Christ, that's two times more that what I originally gave you!” Kat said angrily.

“What're you trying to do?” Sam asked “Jump start him or kill him?”

“I want some answers,” Dean told them “He walked out on Kevin and he walked out on us.” Kat could read how mad Dean was and was about to open her mouth to give him a lecture about how careless he was being with the drugs, but decided to save it for later. “So, unless you got a better idea?”

Sam hesitated for a second and then backhanded Garth across the cheek. Garth shot up out of bed, screaming like he had been electrocuted. Kat jumped back in surprise while Sam and Dean didn't even flinch. Garth kept screaming until he had taken a few panicked breaths and looked around, realizing who was around him.

“Dean?” Garth asked and looked to his other side “Sam?!” He then looked around the room and asked “Wait, is this a hospital? Am I in heaven?” as he laid back down.

“All right,” Dean said “take it easy, you're in Wisconsin.”

“You were hit by a car.” Sam told him “Do you remember anything?”

“Vaguely.” Garth said as he struggled to comprehend everything that was going on. He lifted his arm up, only for it to be stopped by the handcuffs he was in. “What's with the hardware?” he asked.

“You tell us,” Dean said as Sam reached into his own pocket and pulled out a lock pick “oh and while you're at it, tell us why you went AWOL for the last six months. The only way we tracked you down was because you offed a cow.”

“Offed a what?” Garth asked, still struggling to understand “I was, I was on a hunt!”

“A hunt for what?” Kat asked.

Garth finally realized she was in the room and blinked, confused.

“Who are you?” he asked

“That's not important right now,” Dean snapped “just answer the question.”

“I,” he started to say and then looked like he was going to be sick “oh no, get back!” he exclaimed as he ripped the monitors off of himself and darted for the bathroom, heaving and coughing the whole way there. He slammed the door shut and they could hear him retching into the toilet.

“Good thing I didn't give him the adrenaline.” Dean said.

After a few more seconds of hearing Garth get sick in the bathroom, Dean sat on the edge of the bed with Kat beside him and Sam occupied the nearest chair, turning it toward them.

“Anything on Gadreel?” Kat asked Sam.

“Actually, uh yeah.” Sam said “Turns out he uh, he left some grace in me before he bolted.”

Dean nodded and then asked “You know how wrong that sounds right?”

Sam nodded and then said “I wouldn't worry about it. Cas took care of it.”

Dean's eyes shot up and he huffed.

“What?” Sam asked

“Nothing,” Dean said “it's just, I'm gone for a few weeks and you're suddenly like an episode of Teen Mom.” Garth retching and groaning into the toilet got louder and Dean shouted “Just breathe Garth, work it out!”

Kat hadn't said much since she'd initially asked Garth a question. She realized this may have been a mistake, calling Sam. She swung her feet on the bed, the toes of her boots barely hitting the ground. Dean sat with both feet planted on the floor and his hands interlocked, his elbows on his thighs. Sam sat much the same way in the chair as a long silence stretched between the three of them. Kat felt the familiar prickle in her scalp that she was being watched. She looked at Sam first, but his attention was focused to the bathroom door. She chanced looking at Dean, thinking she would find his eyes burning in anger at her. However, she was pleasantly surprised to find, though he looked irritated, there was a soft, fond look in his eyes. He had understood why she called Sam, though he didn't agree with it. He reached over and placed his left hand on her knee, giving it a squeeze and a half smile. She returned the smile and placed her hand over his while Garth's retching still came from the bathroom.

Dean shook his head and looked down at his boots, the sleeve on his right arm riding up just enough to reveal the bottom half of The Mark of Cain. Sam caught a glimpse of it and furrowed his eyebrows.

“What happened to your arm?” Sam asked.

Dean looked down at it and released Kat's knee and pulled his sleeve up, revealing the Mark.

“It's a gift from Cain.” Dean told Sam as Kat shifted uncomfortably. She hated the energy that radiated off the Mark, it felt full of ancient evil.

“Like the wrestler?” Sam joked and both Kat and Dean chuckled.

“I wish,” Dean said, “That would be awesome. Uh no, the old testament dude. He got all biblical on me and gave me his Mark.”

“What does that mean?” Sam asked “How did it even happen?”

“Crowley found him and he gave it to me so I could eighty six Abbadon once and for all.”

Sam looked pissed

“You worked a job with Crowley?” Sam asked

“The devil you know.” Dean said nonchalantly.

Sam gave Kat a look and she said

“Don't look at me like that, I was too busy getting the shit kicked out of me by demons.”

The three of them suddenly realized that they hadn't heard Garth in a few seconds and Sam asked

“Garth?”

They heard no reply.

They got up went into the bathroom, only to find it empty and a window open.

Both Sam and Dean were tall enough to see out of the window, but Kat wasn't, and guessed by the looks on their faces that Garth was no where to be seen.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean said and took off out of the room with Sam and Kat right behind him.

Once outside, they scanned the parking lot, but had no luck finding Garth.

“Why would Garth run from us?” Dean asked

“Why haven't we heard from him in the last six months?” Sam asked as they rounded around an ambulance that was parked in front of the hospital. “Did either of you test him?”

“No, he was unconscious.” Kat told him as they looked around the parking lot “Did he steal a car?”

They found a crumpled up hospital gown on the asphalt and Sam asked “Did he steal a car naked?”

The three of them looked around again and Dean found a security camera and got Sam's attention.

“We'll see what we can find on those cameras,” Dean told Sam “why don't you go talk to Farmer Brown and see about that cow?” Dean asked and walked away, tugging Kat along with him. She looked back at Sam and mouthed “I'm sorry” to him and practically had to run to keep up with Dean's quick pace.

Once they were back inside the hospital, they used their badges as FBI agents Johnny Cash and June Carter-Cash to get into the hospital's security room.

“So, you called Sam huh?” Dean asked, now he was mad. Garth had given them the slip and the brother that was painful to look at was in his presence, trying to work a case with him.

“Look,” Kat said “I called him because the Mark this is bigger than both of us. This is probably the biggest thing I've come into contact with since Edward and he was a punk ass demon. This is older and scarier than anything I've ever seen. It's time that you and Sam stow your crap and we put this family back together because I have a feeling we're gonna need each other, sooner rather than later.”

“What, are you getting premonitions now?” Dean asked

“No,” she told him “it just feels like there's a storm coming and we can't do this alone.”

Dean didn't answer her, he hated when he knew she was right.

They had been able to pull pictures of Garth, in his underwear, getting into a station wagon, luckily the plates were visible. Sam called Dean as he and Kat left the security office.

“So it turns out the cow wasn't just killed,” Sam told them “it was eviscerated.”

“So, why was Garth there?” Dean asked

“He said he was on a hunt right?” Sam reminded him “Maybe he was hunting whatever killed it.”

“Well okay,” Dean said “but why would he run? This whole this is starting to stink, you know that right?”

“Yeah,” Sam said “What about you? Any luck?”

Dean looked down at the stills from the security camera in his hands and then said “Nada, the cameras were pointed in the wrong direction.”

Kat gave Dean a look as Sam asked

“You're kidding?”

“Wish I was,” Dean said

“So?” Sam asked

“So Garth's a hunter, he wants to stay gone, he's gone.” Dean said

“So, we got nothing?” Sam asked

“What can I say Sammy? We lost this one.” Dean told him as he and Kat rounded the ambulance again “Send me a post card.”

Right behind the ambulance was Sam, who hung up his phone and grabbed the pictures from Dean's hands. Kat braced herself for a brawl and suddenly realized what a disadvantage she was at if the Winchesters came to blows.

“Wow,” Sam said as he flipped through the pictures “make, model, license plate. Really Dean?”

“I told you, we can't hunt together. It's for your own good.” Dean said to his brother.

Sam stared at Dean and then Kat piped up.

“Look, this is my fault okay? I'm the one that called him, so if anyone's gonna be pissed at someone, be pissed at me okay?” she asked

“I hear you,” Sam said and looked at Kat “after we find Garth and get to the bottom of this, I'm gone. But until then, no more games.”

“Yes,” Kat said and looked between the two of them “no more games.”

Dean liked the inside of his lip and said

“The ride belongs to a girl named Bess Myers, she lives in the next town over.”

Once the sun had gone down, the Winchesters tracked down where Bess Myers lived, which turned out to be a small apartment.

“Me and Sam will go in first,” Dean told Kat as the two of them loaded up their guns. “You bring up the rear and watch our backs in case the shit hits the fan, then you can get away.”

Kat nodded, not looking at Dean as she shoved the last few bullets into her magazine before clipping it into place.

“What's wrong?” Dean asked her.

“Nothing.” she lied and then looked up at him, he gave her a knowing look and then she sighed. “Okay, fine. I just thought I was helping by getting the band back together but it seems like all I've done is make you two more mad at each other and you mad at me. I'm just,” she took a deep breath “I'm just sorry okay?”

Dean gave her a warm smile and cupped her cheek in his hand.

“I know what you're trying to do and why,” he told her “but what's going on between Sam and I doesn't need to worry you. We're family and we'll figure this out okay?”

“I just don't like that you two aren't talking,” she said “you guys are the only family I have besides Shannon and Dave and I just don't like seeing strife in our family.”

He gently kissed her and then pressed his forehead to hers when the kiss ended.

“Thank you for trying.” He told her “But we'll figure this out. I promise.”

She nodded as Sam pulled up in his car behind them.

The three Winchesters silently climbed the stairs and found Bess's apartment and could hear Garth talking inside. Dean kicked in the door of the apartment as he and Sam charged through and Garth held his hands up.

“Whoa, hey guys!” he said “Listen, I can explain. Everything's cool, just a simple misunderstanding.”

“Who were you talking to?” Kat asked “A girl?”

“A girl? What girl?” Garth asked her.

Kat quickly picked up a lacy white bra from the table and held it up for the guys to see.

“What the-? What the what now?” Garth asked. Dean signaled for Sam to check the left of the apartment and Kat checked the right while Dean stayed with Garth.

“Okay listen, everyone needs to take a chill pill and put their guns down.” Garth said.

Kat pushed the door to the bathroom open with her foot and checked inside, not finding anyone.

“Clear.” she called over her shoulder.

Sam checked the bedroom and got the same result, no one was there.

“Clear here.” he told Dean.    

“See?” Garth asked “Let's all be grown ups and have an adult conversation.”

Kat, Sam and Dean traded bitchy looks when the closet door from behind Sam suddenly burst open. Out came a woman, taller than Kat, with curled blonde hair. She had a vicious set of bulging green eyes; long, sharp teeth and claws that matched. Dean and Kat raised their guns as she grabbed Sam's arm, growling like a feral animal as she did so.

“NO!” Garth yelled at he knocked down Kat and Dean's guns and stood in front of them.

Sam reached for the silver knife he kept in his belt and sliced the girl's arm with it. The cut bled and sizzled where the silver had touched it.

“Sam!” Garth yelled as he placed himself between the girl, Sam and Sam's gun “Please! Don't hurt her!”

“You gotta do it, she's a werewolf!” Dean yelled as he pushed Kat behind him to protect her as the werewolf's eyes landed on the two of them. She growled again, clutching her injured arm.

Garth swallowed and then finally said

“So am I.”

After a few minutes, the girl who they deduced to be Bess, calmed down enough to turn back into a very pretty human being. Garth placed a gauze pad onto Bess's cut and told her

“It's okay baby, just hold it there.”

“Garth, why are they here?” Bess asked

“They're friends, I promise.” Garth said

“They're hunters.” Bess reminded him.

“Okay, we've all gotten off on the wrong foot here,” Garth said “so let's do this right.” he smiled and looked over at Bess “Ya'll, this is Bess, my beloved.” Bess blushed as Garth went on “and Bess, that's Dean.” he pointed to Dean “He could start a fight in an empty house but deep down inside, he's just a big ole teddy bear.”

Dean looked offended while Kat hid her grin, he was, in fact, a teddy bear under all that tough exterior.

“And Sam here, Sam can be a bit insecure at times but for good reason. Bless his heart.” Garth said with a warm smiled.  

“Her, I'm not familiar with.” he told Bess, as he motioned to Kat.

“I'm Kat,” she told Garth and Bess “I'm Dean's wife.”

Garth looked surprised and said “Dean, you finally got hitched? Congratulations!”

“Yeah,” Dean said shortly “it was sweet, this is all sweet, but a werewolf?”

“Bess, I can tend to that cut,” Kat said “if you'll let me.”

Bess briefly looked at Garth, scared. Garth looked from Kat and then back to Bess.

“It's okay baby,” he told Bess “if she's married to Dean, she's good people.”

Bess nodded hesitantly and she and Kat went into the bathroom while Garth explained how he'd accidentally gotten bitten by a werewolf and how Bess had saved him from putting a bullet in his own head. Kat over heard him say that they'd been married for four months, only a little bit longer than she and Dean had been married.

“So, are you a newlywed too?” Bess asked

“Yep,” Kat said as she had Bess sit down on the covered toilet and tilted her arm toward the light “we've been married almost two months.”

Bess smiled as Kat brought out her medical supplies.

“Do you have any rubbing alcohol? I need to clean that cut so I can see how deep it is.” Kat said

“Medicine cabinet.” Bess said and nodded to the mirror.

Kat cleaned the cut and realized it was deep enough to need stitches so she set to work right away.

“Where did you learn to do all this? Being a hunter?” Bess asked

“Partially,” Kat said as she got the needle and thread ready “I grew up pretty rough after my parents died so I had to learn to take care of myself.”

Bess looked at her with an apologetic look on her face and then flinched when she saw the needle.

“It's surgical steel,” Kat told her “it's not gonna burn.”

“Never been good with needles.” Bess told her.

Kat smiled at said

“I'll make this as quick as I can okay? I've been told I do it with barely any pain.”

After a while, Dean came into the bathroom to check on Kat.

“I thought werewolves healed like vampires.” Kat said as she stitched Bess's skin.

“Some do,” Bess told her “but some like me don't. I guess it just depends on the werewolf.”

“Everything okay in here?” Dean asked and Kat looked up.

“Yeah, I'm almost done.” she said.

Dean watched her work and was taken aback by how good she was at what she did. She was perfectly concentrated and talking to Bess through the whole procedure, keeping her relaxed. Dean often thought she would have made an excellent doctor, had it not been for hunting. Once Bess was stitched and bandaged up, Kat gave her some antibiotics to help stave off an infection.

“If you have any problems, let me know.” Kat said as she disposed of the used gloves and bloody gauze.

“Thank you,” Bess said “I mean it.”

“You're welcome.” Kat told her kindly.

Later that night, Dean and Kat returned to their motel room as he filled her in to what Garth had said.

“They're a pack,” Dean told her “Garth was bitten and Bess was born as a werewolf. They have a church group and everything.”  

“Church group?” Kat asked “What is it with us and church groups huh?”

“Cosmic joke I guess.” Dean said with a shrug. “You know, you would’ve made a kick ass doctor, had it not been for hunting.” Dean told her as they put their gear down.

“You think so?” She asked as she blushed

“I don’t think it, I know it.” He said “The way you just jump in and care? Plus you’re smart so you would’ve easily been the top of your class.”

“Quit it,” She said “you’re gonna make me cry.”

“Then I get to go home and bang a hot doctor?” He asked as he folded his arms around her “Sign me up.”

“Shut up,” She said, her face as red as her hair, her arms wrapping around his middle “you’re too kind to me.”

“I’m not saying it to be kind.” He said and tilted her face up to his “I’m saying it because I mean it.”

Her face hurt from smiling so broadly as he kissed her forehead.

“I know I’m not a hot doctor,” she said and stood on her tip toes “but you wanna bang me anyway?”

He chuckled as they kissed.

“You’re MY hot doctor,” he said “and I’ll bang you any time you want, and twice on Sundays.”

She laughed and kissed him back. His tongue brushed over her lips and she opened up her mouth to let him in. His tongue tangled with hers as his finger tips dug into her backside.

“I love you.” she moaned when his tongue returned to his mouth.

He grinned for the first time all day; that boyish grin that she loved so much.

“I love you too.” He told her and picked her up as he sweetly kissed her. He carried her over to the bed and laid her down, crawling on top of her. He trust his denim clad cock into her covered core, making her moan into his mouth.

“Dean,” she begged as she arched into him as she grabbed his hair “Dean, I want you.”

He smiled through the kiss as he pressed harder into her.

“Mh, say that again.” he said quietly as they kissed over and over. He worked his way down her neck, kissing and love biting her skin. “Please say it again.”

“Dean, I want you.” She begged him as she tilted his face to hers. He paused and stared at her for a second. She was breathing heavily, her cheeks were flushed and her green eyes were lust blown. He suddenly felt overwhelmed by the rush of love he felt toward her, it seemed to hit him all at once how much he cared about this woman he got to call his wife.

“What’s wrong?” She asked as she watched his expression change to something she couldn’t quite read.

“Nothing,” he murmured and brushed her cheek with his knuckles “you’re just so-“ he couldn’t put into words exactly what she was, but he kissed her passionately, hoping that his feelings would get across to her.

Kat felt the emotion in the kiss, and the sheer volume of it was overwhelming but comforting at the same time. When they parted, she nodded at him.

“I know,” she told him quietly “I know.”

They gently peeled the layers off each other and before long, he was lining his cock up with her soaking entrance. He slowly sank into her as she squeezed his fingers that were laced with hers.

“Dean,” she whined “please, god yes!”

He bottomed out into her with a groan and then kissed her before he started to move. She wrapped one leg around his waist as they moaned together. He kissed every inch of her skin that he could get to as her hips moved with his. They kissed as she made him roll on to his back and she started to ride him. He sat up and wrapped her up in his arms as she moved on top of him.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned as he grabbed a handful of her hair “fuck sweetheart, oh fuck yes.”

She moaned and cried out his name over and over as he nuzzled his forehead into hers. She opened her eyes briefly, and saw him looking back at her. He gave her a sweet smirk before she wrapped him into a heated kiss and moaning against his mouth.

“Fuck, god Dean, I’m gonna come!” She cried as she dragged her nails down his shoulders. He cried out and gripped her back tightly with one hand.

“That’s it,” he encouraged her “come all over me sweetheart.” He pushed his free hand between their bodies, finding her clit and pressing his finger tips into it, working it in short, harsh circles as she arched her back and cried out.

“FUCK!” She yelled “Oh god, GOD!”

Heat ran from her core and straight up her spine as she let go, soaking Dean’s lap. He laid her on her back, throwing one of her legs over his shoulder and he pushed deep into her as she clenched around him, her second orgasm threatening to come through before the first had even finished.

“Dean, Jesus, DEAN!” She screamed as she gripped the pillows above her and threw her head back. He pounded into her, chasing his release and he finally found it, he pulsed deep inside her as she finished again, swearing and crying out his name.

That night, Kat laid on her side, exhausted from the day and night’s events. Dean was on his side too, his head propped up on his elbow as he watched her sleeping form. This woman he’d admired and grown to love had been through the ringer with him. The warm glow she cast on him made his soul feel at ease.

“Anything I can do to protect you,” he thought as he gently traced the lines of the phoenix tattoo on her back “I’ll do. I’d move heaven and earth to see you smile. I’d got to hell and back again, if it meant you would be okay.”

He kissed her shoulder and she shifted in her sleep, rolling on to her stomach and stretching out beside him.

“Momma?” She asked, sleepily but confused.

“Shhhh,” Dean said as he placed a hand on her back and stroked her skin “go back to sleep.”

“Momma?” She asked again.

“Your Mom’s okay,” Dean told her “she’s with your Dad. They’re fine.”

This had worked before when she’d had dreams about her parents. She moaned in her sleep and finally started breathing heavily again, signaling she was asleep.

The next day as they got dressed, Dean watched as Kat pulled on a loose fitting tank top and cardigan.

“Everything okay?” She asked Dean as she tied her boots.

“You were um,” he said with trepidation “dreaming about your parents again.”

She nodded.

“Yeah, I remember it.” She told him “it was them telling me goodbye before-“ she stopped and then got up. She went in her bag and rifled through it until she found what she was looking for, a small, leather bound book. “This is something Shannon and Dave put together for me.” She handed it to Dean, who stared at her. He’d seen the book in her bag but had never looked at it, not knowing what was in it. He sat down and opened it, the first picture was of a smiling man and woman. The man was tall and broad shouldered with striking red hair a matching, bushy mustache and piercing blue eyes. The woman was short and reed thin, she had overly large, clear green eyes, dark hair that was in a pixie cut.

“That’s my parents, Daniel and Trina.” she told him with a fond smile.

Dean returned the grin

“You look like your Mom, but your smile is like your Dad’s.” He pointed out and flipped the page. The album was filled with pictures and dates written near them. When the year got to 1988, Dean saw Daniel holding a tiny bundle of pink blankets and a baby cradled in his large arms as he grinned proudly. Next to the picture was a small slip of paper that read “Daniel and Katlynn, 2 days old.”

“Look at you.” Dean said, amused “Your Dad’s so proud.”

“Shannon told me that they had a hard time getting pregnant. My mom had like two miscarriages before she had me.” Kat told him “So when I came along, Mom called me her unicorn baby.”

Dean grinned broadly at the next picture. Trina was holding a tiny Kat in her arms and grinning from ear to ear while baby Kat had her tongue stuck out.

“What were they like? Do you remember?” Dean asked

“Mom was the quiet, patient one. Dad was quick tempered and strong.” She recalled

“Now I get where the temper comes from.” Dean told her as he looked up, she was grinning.

“Irish temper I’m afraid,” she said with a shrug “He always made sure he got to tuck me in at night, he always read me a story and kissed my forehead before I went to sleep.”

“What was your favorite book?” Dean asked

“Goodnight Moon,” She answered “and the Pokey Little Puppy. He used to say that I could recite both of those before I could read.”

Dean flipped through the pictures, there were dozens of Kat with her parents. Feeding ducks, sleeping in their arms, dyeing Easter Eggs, dressed up for Halloween.

“You grew up differently than Sam and I did.” He pointed out.

“Even though they hunted, they made sure I had as normal a childhood as I could have. They sheltered me as much as they could, but I could still exorcise a demon and shoot by the time I was six.”

“What’s the last good memory you have?” He asked “With them?”

She closed her eyes and thought. When she reopened them, she was smiling sadly.

“My Mom singing to me the night of my eighth birthday,” she said “she always sang to me before she put me to bed.” She let out a sigh and said “She sang “You Can Fly” from the Peter Pan movie. For some reason, even though my memories of her have faded, I remember that song clearly.” She bit her lip as a tear fell down her cheek. “If you look carefully at my tattoo, you can see the lyrics written into the phoenix’s tail feathers.”

The last picture was of a still tiny Kat, dressed like Belle from Beauty and the Beast at what looked like a birthday party. All three of them were beaming at the camera.

“Is this right before?” Dean asked and she nodded.

“Two days after that, they died.” She told him.

Dean suddenly realized there were more pages in the album, when he flipped the page, he was surprised to see his own face looking back at him with a smiling Kat right next to him. There were a few packed into the first pages, at the fair, in the Impala and the Bunker.

“When did you do this?” He asked and turned the album to her to show her the pictures of them. She blushed and said

“When I had time,” she said “we take lots of pictures together and I wanted a few hard copies.”

He smirked as he flipped the page to their wedding pictures, nearly two months ago. He snatched the picture of the two of them out of the album and said

“This one is mine.”

“Okay, if you insist.” she said and he handed the album back.

“I do,” He said “Now, let's go check out this wolf pack.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hope you guys liked that!! I’m not sure when part 13 will be out, hopefully it’ll tide you over until then. Your kind feedback is SO deeply appreciated, feel free to like and share, maybe hit that “follow” if this is your first time here? My lists and tag lists are open if you wanna join any of them!

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[mainadjacent]

Sticking to the Script (p. 4)

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader, one-sided Ben Hardy x Reader

Summary: You are the star of the hit TV show, “Winthrope Manor” and you’ve just got a new costar, Gwilym Lee who happens to bring around his friend, Ben Hardy, to set. You develop feelings for Ben, but they’re not well received. Lucky for you, your costar is there to help make things better.

Author’s Note: I am so sorry about how delayed this has been! I started a new job and the hours are long! Plus, I spend all day typing and looking at a computer so when I get back that not necessarily what I want to be doing. But! This is the longest chapter to date @ 3.6k!! I really did enjoy writing this too!

Tag List

Warnings: Light swearing and some (fake) injury description.

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

PART 4

The next morning you have a biting headache. It doesn’t help that you have to be on set extra early because you’re doing special effects makeup. In this week’s episode, Violet falls off a horse and is bed-ridden with serious injuries and while no one is making you jump off of a horse, you are going to have to sit through at least an hour of fake blood, rigid collodion and harsh makeup lights.

“You look like shit and I’m not talking about the blood,” says Kevin McIntyre, the actor who plays Matthew, the middle Winthrope child, and your onscreen brother.

You laugh sourly and flash him an obscene gesture as he plops down in the chair next to yours.

“I went out drinking with Gwilym last night,” you admit.

“You know, since I’m contractually obligated to at least act like I care about you I’m going to go ahead and say I think it’s a bad idea for you to be getting romantically involved with the guy playing your love interest again seeing as it didn’t go too well last time and—”

“It’s not like that!” you interrupt so hastily that you startle Vicki, the makeup artist.

“I went with him and some of his friends. Trust me it, it was not romantic at all. It was actually kind of weird.”

“Weird how?”

You suddenly become keenly aware of the other presences around the set, all keen to hear what you have to say,  and you avoid divulging too much.

“I don’t know. Just weird.”

“Well, I think this just goes to prove that you probably steer clear of alcohol. And just men in general.”

“Great advice. Now be a good non-brother and go get me something greasy from craft, please? My head is throbbing.”

Kevin begrudgingly gets up from the chair he’s splayed across, “I’m only going because I want a donut.”

“Get me something caffeinated, too!”

Your phone gives a buzz and you dive across the vanity to get it, much to Vicki’s chagrin.

Hey! I forgot to tell you, Gwil home last night! Thanks for the help!

It’s from Joe. Last night, he had appeared just as Gwil had so oddly decided to leave.

“What’s wrong?” he had asked, clearly as confused as you were.

“I don’t know, one minute we were talking, the next he just decided to leave. I think he might have had a bit too much to drink. I don’t know.”

Joe gave you a look that could pass for almost pity.

“I’ll go after him,” he turned into the throng of people.

“Wait! You have to let me know if you get him home okay!”

“Right, fine. Here,” he handed you a sleek, black phone, “Give me your number and I’ll text you.”

You smile at Joe graciously as you hand back his phone.

“Oh, and can you let Lucy and Rami know what happened?” You nod. “It was nice meeting you! Get home safe!”

Hey Joe! Thanks for the help last night. Pretty sure I would’ve gotten in major trouble if I lost my costar. You’re a lifesaver! :)

_____

Vicki finally finishes with your face and you thank her profusely as you admire her work in the vanity mirror. She really had done an amazing job. There’s a gnarly gash running across your right temple, your eyelid a deep purple color and bruises doting your left cheekbone. Your lip has a deep, bloody split running down the middle of it.

“I thought Vicki was supposed to make you look worse, not better,” jokes Kevin as he presents you with a breakfast sandwich and a tall cup of iced coffee.

“Very funny,” you flip him off before lunging at your coffee.

“Hey, by the way, have you seen if Gwil’s here yet, I want to make sure he’s alright,” you say casually as you tear a piece off of your sandwich.

“Gwil’s not on the call list today. He’s probably not shooting your guys’ scene until tomorrow.”

By the way that he’s eying you up you can tell that Kevin is waiting to see how you respond to this information and this somehow makes you feel like you’re hiding something.

“Huh, I must have gotten my days confused,” you say innocently.

You can tell that Kevin’s not buying whatever it is you’re trying to sell.

“Listen, I know you said it wasn’t like that, but anyone with eyes can tell that you and Gwil have some sort of chemistry thing going on. Every time you two shoot scenes together it’s like you guys are holding back from ripping each other’s clothes off and there’s a running bet for when you two are going to get together. So, why don’t you just stop pretending that you’re not into him?”

This all hits you like a ton of bricks. “First of all, Kevin, have you ever considered that maybe we’re just really great actors that are really committed to our roles? Also, up until last week, Ben and I clearly had something going on so there’s that. And, didn’t you just tell me to avoid guys all together? Now you’re telling me to admit my so-called feelings for Gwil, what’s up with that?”

“Okay, listen,” Kevin says calmly, as he sips his own iced coffee, “I can’t speak for Gwil but I’ve been acting with you for over a year and I know, for a fact, you’re not that good of an actor, okay? There’s definitely something going on there. Secondly, who the hell is Ben? That X-Men pretty boy? No offense, but he hasn’t been around the set for ages and based on what you just said, he doesn’t seem super interested either. And also, I know I told you to avoid men altogether, but I just joined the betting pool and if you get together with Gwil by next Tuesday, I win $1,500,” this last part he says in a rush.  

You’re pretty sure if you lunge at your costar, you’ll ruin your makeup and at the risk of pissing off Vicki, you settle to just glare at him. Before you can even retort, though, he is called to set and leaves you there, seething.

Is there any truth to what Kevin said, you ask yourself. What he said about Ben was harsh, to say the least, but was he wrong? Last night proved that Ben wasn’t just ignoring you, he was straight up avoiding you. Kevin was right, you might as well just let that go. You have plenty of experience giving yourself to others for little in return, it gets old.

Gwil was a more complicated topic for you. The two of you were clearly friends, and you are fond of him. The complicated part of falling in love with someone on screen, you realize, is that some of that have a tendency to transfer into your off-screen relationship. Maybe it wasn’t that way for everybody, but you feel things deeply. That’s what makes you a good actor, but sometimes it can get in the way.  

Before you can delve further into your feelings (yuck), you’re called onto set.

_____

You spend the rest of the day on set. The episode is very Violet-centric on account of her accident. The show is really trying to push the fear that Violet may not survive, so there’s a lot of tears and tense moments. On the bright side, you spend the entire shoot in bed and without a corset and half the time you just have to lay there while the other characters talk.  

You are distracted though, and you can feel the rest of the cast’s frustration as they call for yet another take after you forget one of your few lines. You don’t even blame them for being mad at you. You’re also angry at yourself because every time the soundstage door opens, your eyes flash to it, half expecting Gwil to burst through it even though you know he’s not here today. You have no other choice than to throw yourself into your performance, though, because you’re pretty sure that if you don’t stop ruining takes they’ll reconsider not killing your character off.  

The day of filming drags on into the night and by the time you’re on your way home, it’s well past 11. You check your phone, half-hoping for a text from Gwil—the irony that only a week ago you were agonizing over a text from Ben and now you’re in the same position but with Gwil isn’t lost on you—but there’s no message from him.

The next day, you roll back onto set early again. The weight of two sleepless nights slogs you down but you are slightly comforted in the fact that Gwil will be here today and you finally get to talk to him about the other night.

Except you don’t. He’s not on the call list and your scene together has been pushed back yet another day. You try not to show how disappointed you are.

Apparently, though, you are more transparent than you think because, while checking Instagram during lunch you notice that Kevin tagged you in a picture on his story. It’s a candid of you sitting in the makeup chair that morning morosely looking at your phone, you obviously were unaware that the picture was being taken. Underneath your head, in large white print, it said, “Someone’s grumpy bc her bf is gone” along with a bunch of crying stickers surrounding you. You can already imagine the call you’re going to get from your publicist about “professionalism” and “relationships in the public eye” and “Didn’t you already try dating a costar? How did that go, again?”.

You want to scream and hide away in your trailer and maybe even call Gwil for some reason but instead you settle for giving Kevin a good smack upside the head.

If you were a bit peeved and distracted before, you were flat-out irritated now, which made the day drag on longer and longer (if that was even possible). You could say with certainty that all you wanted to do was go home and burrow into bed possibly forever, but you soldiered on. Eventually, the night closes out and you go home again. You must have been in a melancholy mood, though, because as you walk through the parking lot to your car, all you can think about was the night of your first scene with Gwil and how he had awkwardly walked you to your car.

You can’t seem to stop thinking about him ever since your night out.  At first, you would just think circles around what had happened that night, after all, it had been confusing, with him just getting up and leaving, giving no explanation. You would catch yourself playing over every last minute of that night, pinning it out like a displayed butterfly, trying to catch what huge, gaping detail you had missed that night.

However, you had recently caught your thoughts straying from that night with Gwil, to just Gwil. You would catch yourself at any given moment, any spare second, thinking about Gwil: what he was doing or whether or not he would like what the PAs brought in for lunch or if he would also find that part of the script funny. When you read something interesting or see something ridiculous you instinctually want to show him. In short, he does not cross your mind anymore, he lives in it.

You wish it would stop.

___________

The object of your distraction is on set the next day and you wanted nothing more than to finally confront him about his behavior, so you could finally be rid of your plaguing thoughts. You haven’t seen him yet, but the first thing you do when you get to set at 6 AM is check the call sheet and his name is right there underneath the day’s date.

Gwilym Lee.

You can feel your increasing jitteriness as your morning makeup transformation is underway.

“Can you stay still, sweetie?” Vicki asks after the umpteenth time you accidentally nudged her hand out of place with your twitching.

“Sorry, Vicki must have drunk too much coffee this morning. At least it’s our last day of this, right?”

“Right,” Vicki says piercingly, and you don’t know who’s more relieved that Violet’s injury scenes are done, you or her.

Eventually, you are steward onto set, looking as gory and beaten as the first day. You get there a bit early in hopes that Gwil would be there already. He has a very British habit of being early to things, but he hasn’t shown up yet and you can only stand around petulantly for so long before the director calls for you to be in your spot.

Finally, just about the director is about to call action, Gwil fumbles onto set, a costumer trailing behind him, seemingly making last minute adjustments. He mumbles apologies to the crew before getting into place. You try to meet his eye, but he purposefully avoids looking in your direction. You want to bounce up on Violet’s stiff bed and yell at him in front of everyone here.

Hey! I’m right here and you owe me an explanation! You owe me something! Anything!

He moves to the side of the soundstage; he’s not supposed to enter until mid-scene. Edmund finds out about Violet’s accident and travels all the way to her home to visit her. At this point, Violet is more or less unresponsive and Edmund, in a private moment of vulnerability, declares how much he cares for Violet. Violet, however, is unconscious and cannot hear him. The whole scene is frustrating, in your opinion and you can’t help but feel sorry for Edmund and for Violet, too. You think how unfair it is for her, to have someone declare their feelings for her and her not be cognizant enough to even realize it. It’s almost tragic.

For the most part, your role in these upcoming scenes is pretty simple: all you have to do is lay there, looking injured and close to death. The position gives you the freedom to allow your mind to wander. You pointedly avoid thinking about Gwil, though and instead focus on keeping your mind at peace. You think about what you want for lunch; about your plans for the weekend; about whether or not you’ve called your mom recently. You drown your mind in mundane thoughts to keep your nerves at bay. You’re finally coming face to face with Gwil and for some reason, the weight of this moment feels momentous.  So, you try to think of anything but. That only works for so long though, you realize as you hear them cue for Gwil to enter the scene.

He’s at your—Violet’s—bedside in three long strides and you can’t help but feel your heart jolt at the reality of him being so close to you after having only housed him in your mind for what seemed an eternity. You’re caught by surprise as his hand reaches gently for yours. He holds your small hand in his two broad ones delicately, desperately.

“Violet,” he says softly, like a prayer and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have him say your real name like that. Your heart shifts as you attempt to remind yourself that none of this is real and you and Gwil don’t actually have feelings for each other.

“I am so sorry,” he says with the same quiet fervor. You are struck by how exposed he sounds, and it strikes you, that maybe he’s talking to you, not Violet.

He splays his fingers over your and you’re infected with the memory of him guiding you through the city streets, fingers interlaced with your own.

“Please make it through, your family needs you, your company needs you… I need you.”  

In your experience, having to act unconscious while other actors act is difficult, but this was almost unbearable. Gwil was heartbreakingly convincing and you wanted to reach out, squeeze his hand, do something.

You hold back and instead you focus on maintaining an unchanged expression. Even when the director calls for a cut and then a retake you are tentative to open your eyes. You can feel Gwil lingering next to you before getting back on his mark to shoot again. Only a few moments ago, you wanted to open your eyes, to see him but now, faced with the realities of that, you cowered. So, you keep your eyes closed.

You film the scene three more times, and each one of those times, you wait until Gwil is a distance away before coming alive to take criticism and direction. Part of you feared that if you did look at each other or spoke, your resolve would break and you wouldn’t be able to focus on the scene.

Eventually, your director is happy enough with your performance to let you go.  When Vicki pulls you off the soundstage to remove your faux injuries, you are hit with the realization that you have no more scenes to film, which, considering your last two long night, makes you want to cry. You also realize that Gwil has also been released—you finally have a moment to talk to him. The only thing standing in your way is Vicki and her ridiculously long makeup removal process—all sorts of cleaning and scrubbing and steaming. Since it's your last day with the makeup, she makes the process even longer, spouting off all the harm rigid collodion could do to your skin. You try to hurry the process up as much as possible, you don’t want to miss Gwil. After what seems like forever, Vicki sets you free, but not before slathering your face in a heavy, green facemask.

“Make sure to rinse it off when you get home,” she directs harshly.

At this point, you are certain Gwil is gone, and it’s for the better you think, lest he saw you green-faced.

You walk to your care slowly, the weight of the day dragging behind you. Maybe you’ll talk to him tomorrow.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts, you don’t register the long spindly frame leaning against your car. It’s Gwil.

“What’s on your face?”

You blush, “Facemask, for all the gunk. What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you, although I was about ready to give up, to be honest.”

You laugh, “I don’t blame you, Vicki can be brutal.”

The two of you stand in front of your car silently, both pointedly looking away.

“So, I want—”

“Listen I was—”

You both say at the same time and you exchange awkward looks before you insist that he speak first.”

I wanted to apologize,” he begins, “for how I behaved that night at the bar. I don’t know what came over me. I must have drunk too much, I suppose.”

You look at him for a long moment. “That’s it?”

“Yes… I suppose so,” he obviously was not expecting this question, “Have I mentioned how sorry I was?”

“That’s all you have to say? No further explanation?” You realize that you have been waiting to have this conversation for days, and Gwil’s dry and vague apology falls short of how you imagined this conversation would go.

“Not at the moment. I am sorry though, I haven’t stopped thinking about how I acted. I’ve been ruminating over it actually these last few days, almost obsessing. But I don’t know what else to say.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” you remind him. You know that there’s more to that night than he lets on.

“I know,” he says, suddenly meek, and then, “If you don’t want to forgive me, I understand. Although, I will say that I was ready to offer some quality ice cream from the creamery down the street if all of this just went away.”

You laugh, unguarded after what feels like forever, “Ice cream you say?”

“Yes, the good stuff, too! But I don’t know if you’d want to go anywhere with… that.” He gestures to your green, goopy face.

You swat his hand playfully.

“No, I can’t, I have to rinse it off soon anyway.”

Then, you are struck by an idea, “Maybe we can take the ice cream to my place?”

The words are out of your mouth before you have time to think about them. Yikes. You just invited Gwil to your place, in the evening, with ice cream. There could be a lot of subtexts there, especially considering your weird, unresolved stance with one another. Before you can interject with some sort of excuse or negation though, he responds.

“I would love that.”

PART 5

TAGS: @xbarrjallenx @alexfayer @chlobo6 @softbenhardy

[goldenscript]

thank you.

2,906 words | fluff, semi-angst ↳ high school popular kid/nerd au + vernon chwe

author’s note: it says semi-angst, but it’s really just that cheesy kind you see in romcoms.

“So, I took out ran two of the outside linebackers, one of them a particularly fast fellow who—”

You blinked, hand placed beneath your chin as you try to keep up with Kevin’s spiel, but Jesus Christ, why was this guy so boring? All you could focus on was the fact that there’s a piece of spinach wedged between his canine and his front tooth, and although you wanted to be so kind as to giving him a heads up he actually hadn’t given you a chance to speak in the last hour since your date actually began.

It was hard to explain how you managed to find yourself in this situation, but you had to guess it was only because one of your friends begged you to for reason that have forgone your recollection. Was it for the dance? Was that even coming up anytime soon? Something along those lines. Your brain was still pretty hazy from nodding your head so much, each mutter of an ‘uh-huh’ seemed to meld into the rest of the music playing from the hidden speakers somewhere in the simplistic, modern restaurant.

You decided right then that your friend owed you a big favor for this because this was as painful as the time you were coerced into third wheeling for the sake of your best friend’s parents, who begged you to play supervisor, which you begrudgingly did, at the drive-in… at the least you made a nice profit from it, but sitting in the backseat, trying to watch the movie while the glass was fogging up was hardly anything close to enjoyable or proper part of the movie-watching experience.

The things I do for my friends… you sighed, nodding once more before taking another tentative sip at your already empty glass of water. A part of you felt tempted to call over Vernon, but you didn’t want to disrupt him now that he was talking to another table adjacent from yours and Kevin’s.

“And, oh—” Kevin actually stopped, realizing you were practically sipping at air. “Your glass is empty.” He turned his head and called out for Vernon, “Waiter! We have an empty glass here.”

Said boy was actually preoccupied with another party of four, flashing your table a nervous smile before nodding. You felt bad, watching as he made quick work to take down the orders of the table before he went over to the bar.

You sighed at your date, “You didn’t have to do that. He was busy with a table.”

Kevin scoffed, “It’s his job. Don’t worry about it, babe.”

“M’not a fan of pet names,” you retort, turning your attention to the chestnut-haired boy making his way over.

“Sorry about the wait,” Vernon said with a small smile. He was refilling your cup albeit a little shakily when Kevin continued on with his spiel about his latest sporting escapade but you paid more attention to the water than anything else.

“You should be,” Kevin muttered between his anecdote. To which you gave him a pointed stare before turning to Vernon with smile of your own.

“Thank you, Vernon.”

He nodded with what you could’ve sworn was a dust of pink, but he high tailed it away from the table and settled at the kitchen. Of course, you couldn’t let your so-called date’s behavior slide, and it took all your strength not to just up and leave him on the spot because this was a favor to one of your friend’s and you didn’t want to blow things for them. It seemed stupid, but it was your nature to be as kind as you could. It wasn’t a matter of maintaining some kind of popularity, it was more or less just trying to make sure everyone else was happy.

“You don’t have to be so rude to him, y’know,” you sighed, feeling part of your resolve slip as he stared at you blankly. “He may be a worker, but he’s still a person like us.”

Kevin suddenly rolled his eyes, eliciting a scoff that had begun to make your blood boil. “I dunno why you’re so hung up on that kid. We’re talking about me and champs, not some loser waiter.”

You replied, brows furrowing ever-so-slightly, “That’s pretty out of line.”

“It’s true! He’s not in the same circle as us, Y/N. We—”

“—What we, Kevin?” you snapped, feeling your patience waning. Whatever your friend would benefit from this would be repaid somehow. You just didn’t want to deal with this asshole any longer. “If you’re going to be a dick about waiting staff, then don’t include me in whatever your next point was.”

“Obviously being here isn’t putting you in a good mood. Let’s get outta here, babe.”

“I’m not your babe,” you deadpanned, feeling completely over Kevin and the situation. Nothing was worth sitting any minute longer with him. “And believe me, this restaurant isn’t what’s putting me in a bad mood.”

He didn’t say anything after that, staring at you like you had grown a second head. And although he was supposed to be some hotshot transfer student from wherever, you couldn’t give a flying shit, because no amount of sports merit could make up for the courtesy of others he was extremely lacking. If there was one thing you felt strongly about next to being kind to others, it was the lack of tolerance for disrespectful people, and he definitely made it to the top of your list of no-no’s.

Instead of trying to aggravate you further, he raised his hand and called Vernon forth though the former was careful not to refer to the latter as just ‘waiter.’ You felt a surge of relief, but the cross expression on Kevin’s features must’ve made the poor brunet nervous because as soon as he stood before you two, his eyes had gone wide momentarily before he shakily asked if you two needed anything.

“Just the check,” you answered, smiling at him. He eased up as you did, and that made you feel better. At the least, even if you had a miserable night, you hoped that he wasn’t suffering too much. Your parents always urged you to acknowledge the hard work those in retail, dining, and other jobs that involved serving other people, so it was ingrained in you to treat workers with respect, especially like Vernon when he had to suffer through nights with people like Kevin who didn’t see it in the same way.

Vernon nodded, “O-oh, right away!” He went to grab Kevin’s plate and yours though in his own shaky haste, he had knocked over your cup. The cool contents had fallen off the edge of the table, spilling onto your lap as he watched in blatant horror.

Of course, you couldn’t help but cry out in surprise. Your immediate reaction was to scoot away from the table, taking the white tablecloth napkin to blot away the water soaking into your jeans. Vernon had immediately begun to apologize, setting down the plates back to the table before setting the fallen glass upright.

“I’m so sorry! Let me go get you a towel,” he said, already turning toward the supply closet. He hadn’t made it a step away before Kevin suddenly piped up.

“What the fuck was that?” he said in a tone a lot more aggressive than necessary. “That’s not fucking cool at all, you loser. Who do you think you are just getting away with that shit?”

Vernon looked at Kevin, pupils seemingly dilated with a niggle of fear that made you forget about your wet clothes. You felt your heart pounding, a vein formed at the corner of your head, and your mouth opened to snap at Kevin before he could say any more bullshit.

“It was an accident, Kevin.” you quipped, staring at him in disbelief. He looked absolutely miffed, and though you weren’t sure if it was because Vernon had spilled water on you or if he was being a piss baby over not getting some tonight. However, you didn’t care. You seriously didn’t care. “Leave him alone.”

He matched your expression of disbelief, gesturing to Vernon. “You’re seriously going to defend this loser, Y/N? Seriously?” He didn’t give you a chance to speak (again), “He can’t even do a simple job right! He’s literally nothing, and you’re still choosing to defend him. Look, I’m gonna be nice here and give you another chance to rethink your decisions because you’re obviously not in the right state of mind or something—”

You made a sound mixed between a scoff and a laugh, feeling your heart tear at the sight of absolute dejection etched across Vernon’s features. For reasons so obvious, you stopped to steel your features as you met Kevin’s eyes. “Look, just give up. You’re not getting anything from me, Kevin. You’re not entitled to that shit, and to be quite frank, you’re the last goddamn person I want to see right now so please leave. I got the tab covered. Just fucking go.”

With nothing to suggest otherwise, he does as you asked, looking so pressed and quite disappointed. The thoughts—good riddance—passed your mind as soon as the door shut behind him. You turned to look at Vernon, but he must’ve walked off for the tab and the towel because it isn’t long before he returned with both items.

“Are you alright?” you asked him as you quickly blotted the jeans, trying to look at him but he could hardly meet your eyes. Accepting the billfold, you placed money into it and told him to keep the change. Before he turned to go, you said, “Vernon?”

He only craned his head towards you and said, “S-sorry for your inconvenience. Have a great night, Y/N.”

You were about to say his name again, but he only walked off, a little speedier than before. And for reasons that went beyond your deep sense of care for others, you wondered if he was too ashamed to speak to you because of Kevin. It made you worry as you made your way back home, and as you prepared for bed that night, you couldn’t help but think of Vernon.  

Although Kevin’s crude words were completely unnecessary, he was right to say that you and him ran in different circles from Vernon. You certainly didn’t agree with the way the select few in your circle made this distinction blatantly clear, and you were often trying to combat all forms of harassment whenever it rose. Luckily, there were others who shared this same view, and fortunately that person happened to share one thing in common with you—knowing Vernon.

Choi Seungcheol was a blessing to the popular clique, because as someone who was as skilled as basketball as he was, there was no boastful bone in his body. He was a humble person, who didn’t agree with the way Kevin and his friends treated others, and he often spoke against it alongside you. On top of this fact, this captain was a social butterfly, friendly to all and friends to many, one of which included the chestnut-haired boy that had been on your mind for the past few days.

The following day after the failed date with Kevin, after you had scolded Hyeri for putting you through that, she had told you she actually scored free tickets to some concert because of it. And as angry as you were, she was extremely apologetic for how badly things ended and even told you that Vernon knew Seungcheol in case you ever needed the information. You had only put it to use afterwards because the poor boy was avoiding you.

He hardly looked your way in English and completed bolted from the cafeteria when you tried to speak to him in the lunch line, and as hurt as it felt to have him react this way to you, you also knew it came with good reason. He was probably humiliated from that night, even more so, probably scared that any contact with you would unleash the wrath of Kevin (though that was hardly true considering that asshole was already setting his sights on other girls). You tried to persevere and search every nook and cranny you could think of at the school, but there was no sign of him so you eventually approached Seungcheol that Friday afternoon.

The only question he asked was why you needed to find Vernon and it was simple: you wanted to thank him and check up on him. (Okay, and see him again.) With a curved on his lips that spoke more volumes than you were aware of, he replied, “Rooftop garden!”

You trekked up those stairs, feeling your heart pound in your chest as the empty and still hallway put some mild ease to your racing mind. Since that night, you hadn’t stopped thinking of Vernon. He had been kind to you. The type of kindness that felt rare in this day and age, especially the world of popularity that seemed to be so starkly different to his, and yet despite the risk of whatever would come with associating yourself with him, you didn’t care. If there was one thing you could admit to everyone (which you had once or twice in passing), it was that Vernon had made that date bearable, from his friendly behavior to his impeccable timing with the food and water. Not only this but he had shared classes with you since middle school and still he was one of the kindest souls, who even tutored you when you weren’t doing so hot in English, and even though that was ages ago, you still hold that to your heart because you actually grew to love that class with each passing year.

It barely occurred to you that he was in that class with you each time, but the moment you saw him nestled atop of a concrete block with headphones and a notebook in his lap, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

There was contentment on his features as the sun’s rays kissed his features. His lips were parted, mouthing words though you couldn’t hear any of them even as you began to walk closer and closer. A part of you even felt guilty for disturbing his peace with his minor ambush, but you couldn’t help yourself as you stood a few steps away, still gone unnoticed by him.

You don’t take another moment to think as you decided to just do as your brain was urging you to, kiss him kiss him kiss him. It was rash and too much, so you did what you thought was the next best thing without scaring him off. So, in that split second, you leaned over and pecked his cheek.

That immediately broke him from his trance, and he all but sprang up before he realized it was you and his cheeks broke out into a deeper shade of carnation than it had the night of the stupid date.

He pushed his headphones down, looking at you as you took a seat beside him.

“Sorry about the surprise,” you said, feeling your own cheeks pinken. “I just—I wanted to thank you for that night, alright? You saved me from a horrible date, made it better with your really good timing, and you’ve been avoiding me so I figured I could just do this to tell you everything I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

He chuckled, a smile slowly curving at his lips, “Did Seungcheol tell you where I was?” When you nodded and matched his smile, he continued, “Well, you’re welcome. I’m glad I could help even though I spilled water on you.”

“Hey,” you said, reaching for his hand. “It was just water. It’s okay. And please don’t be afraid of Kevin. He may be a dick but he’s way too scared to fight anything, let alone try and hurt you.”

Vernon scoffs, playfully however, “M’not scared. I know Seungcheol.”

You threw your head back and laughed, “True. And you know me, and I’d fight for your honor too.”

“You have,” he replied, only just noticing your hand on his. He didn’t pull away, so you kept it there. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you said, tilting your head as you glanced at the notebook between you two. “So, what’re you up to in that book of yours?”  

“Oh this?” He held up the notebook with his free hand. You nodded, and he answered, “I like to write, so just writing s’all.”

You couldn’t help but say, “Really? You’ve always been good at English I’m not surprised.” You decide to take a chance, feeling brave as ever when your fingertips interlock with his, “What about?”

The moment you asked, he lit up. His smile was bright as ever and his beautiful brown hues became akin to the sight of a nice cup of warm coffee, seasoned to perfection with sugar and creamer. It made you feel as warm as the sun shining upon the two of you, and it reminded you of the beauty of the plants around you. There was so much to feel and remember in that moment, and all you could think about was the way his hand seemed to fit so well into yours. You could feel your heart beating so deeply inside the confines of your chest, and unbeknownst to you, so was his.

[glasgowgirl92-blog]

Golden

Okay, So I had started writing this, but then @halsteadandlindsay backed up my idea. If you listen to Golden then hopefully you’ll end up with the same feels. I really do hope ya’ll enjoy this little drabble!

Golden 

Cases like this, like the ones they’d faced today, always hit Jay hard. Erin had noticed from the first case involving kids they’d caught after he joined the unit that he always seemed to connect and take them hard. He wasn’t one to show how much they’d affected him, not really, but he’d had subtle tells and Erin had picked up on most – if not all of them. Today had been particularly tough; three tender-age victims, arson and two extremely uncooperative suspects had Voight sending the Unit home in spells for a couple of hours R&R to keep them fresh enough to find something to nail the guys.

Adam and Kevin had headed out first, bringing back pizza and coffee for those staying when they had returned, Erin had been content to let any of the others go before she and Jay, and the fact Jay didn’t move when Voight had said next two only showed that he wanted to keep at it. It was the pointed look from Voight that had Erin all but gathering Jay’s things for him, around him as he continued to sort through paper work. She had stood beside his desk while he actively ignored her as he read and reread the files right until the moment she put her hand on his shoulder and whispered his name before he stopped and begrudgingly got to his feet, sulking down the hallway to the 300. Antonio had sent her a sad smile and she’d nodded, walking quickly to catch up with him.

He’d wordlessly stood beside the car until she got there, climbing in and belting up before she’d even crossed the garage. Erin always enjoyed the silence, especially when she was with Jay – she’d always felt safe with him, if they were speaking or just sitting there in the silence, she knew he had her back just like she knew the colour of her eyes and the fact that it was 42 steps from her front door to her bed if she included her nightly routine.  Tonight, however, the silence was heavy and filled with something and Erin couldn’t really put her finger on what it was.

She tried the usual questions surrounding food, who would shower first, were they going to forego food in the name of sleep, or were they going to just chill on the sofa. Jay’s responses had been non-verbal and non-committal. Erin was close to calling him on his shit, right until the moment his hand rested on her knee as she drove and gave a small squeeze, but didn’t move. She’d glanced at him, a sidewards look that had her breath catching as she nodded once, accepting the silence immediately at the pained expression on his face. The mask he always wore to keep himself in check, but those eyes of his never lied, couldn’t lie to her anyway, and they were burning a hole into the side of her face and red rimmed and they didn’t have the mischievous sparkle they usually did. When they’d stopped at a spotlight, she eventually rested her hand on his and squeezed, bringing his hand to her lips and pressing a kiss against his fingers as she turned to look at him, swallowing hard at the sheer volume of relief that was coming off him in that moment that she almost missed the lights changing. Again.

With a four-hour break, they’d decided that they could pick something up on the way back to the district and just lounge around on the sofa for a bit, maybe catch a nap. Usually after cases like this, Jay would be too wired to sleep and he’d go work out before joining her beneath the covers and pulling her close. Tonight, however, he was the one to go into the bedroom and retrieve three of Erin’s pillows and the two blankets, setting up a nook on the sofa for them while Erin showered. His freckles stood out in stark contrast tonight, he was unusually pale and looked entirely too small sitting on the edge of the bed as he waited for her to come out of the ensuite. She had moved over to him before he’d been able to get to his feet, leaning down to press a soft kiss against his forehead, earning herself a slight smile for her efforts. Jay had stood, then, kissed her cheek and stepped around her into the bathroom, Erin’s heart sinking a little when she heard the lock click shut. They had come such a long way, but still had quite a way to go to get around the locked doors in the apartment. It was space, however, and considering she’d done it the night that Justin had--- Erin cleared her throat and stood, moving over to the dresser to find one of his shirts to curl up in while he did whatever it was he had to do to get himself focused again.

A half hour later and she’d wanted nothing more than to be curled up on the sofa drinking a cold beer, but technically they were still on the clock and they only had a couple of hours to really relax, so that was out of the equation. Instead, Erin had settled on making them both some hot chocolate, trying to remember the way Jay made it – trying to work out the correct ratio of chocolate power, to milk, to marshmallows. Jay had left the TV on, some old movie playing in the background of the softly lit apartment, enough to ward off the silence. She was so focused on measuring things exactly right into the two mugs that she hadn’t heard him approach and almost spilled the entire contents of the saucepan when he wrapped his arms around her from behind. Had it not been for his lightening quick reflexes they would have been paying a visit to med for burns; luckily, there was only a small spillage between the two mugs that Jay had cleaned up before Erin had even managed to put the pan back down on the hob.

“Warn a girl,” Erin told him sternly as she turned around to punch him lightly on the arm, the soft smile tugging at his lips had her grinning back at him and pushing up onto her tiptoes to kiss him soundly on the lips, her grin widening when he kissed her back and wrapped an arm around her; her partner was working back to being himself again.

“No fun in warning you.” Jay replied, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on her lips, soft and sweet. “Thank you,” he stated after a beat, his eyes locking on hers.

“That’s why you have backup.” Erin grinned, smoothing her hands up and down his arms, laughing when he reached around her for the spoon to stir the mugs, keeping her close and peppering a couple of kisses into her hair. She let him hold on, let him press her against his chest as he moved the cups around and reached into the cupboard above her head, bringing his hand up and pressing her face against his chest, a chuckle escaping from both of their lips, his rumbling through his chest against her cheek.

“Uh-uh, it’s my secret ingredient, can’t be a secret if you find out what it is.” Jay told her, his voice filled with the sassy teasing he usually reserved for her when she made him feel like a househusband at work.

She didn’t answer him verbally, instead, Erin chose to wrap her arms around him and nuzzle against his chest through his shirt, pressing a kiss right over the place her head sat when they were curled up together as she allowed for him to clatter around behind her as he used his body to pin her against the counter, to free his hands.

When she heard the cupboard close she looked up at his face and tiptoed to kiss him, earning herself that look. The one he gave her, all soft eyes and vulnerable. The look that made her want to protect him at all costs. Jay stepped back and holding both mugs in his hand as he backed up and headed into the living-room, to the faux pillow fort he’d set up on the sofa.

Erin paused to watch him; waited to see what he was going to do. Jay had apparently had the same idea, waiting for her to make the first move and Erin then sat down against one of the pillows, settling down and holding her hand out for the mug. With a smile, he passed it off and joined her at the opposite end of the sofa, taking a sip and nodding.

“You’re learning,” Jay nodded, earning himself a laugh from the woman before she took a sip and agreed.

“I think it’s time you tell me your secret ingredient.” She told him with a raised eyebrow, watching as he shook his head vehemently.

“Absolutely not. Then I’ll be redundant when it comes to hot chocolate making and you’ll own my ass there, too. I’m already a househusband at work, I’m owning it here, too.” He stated firmly, and if it wasn’t for the small little sheen of humour in his eyes, Erin might have believed that her man was being serious as well as sassy.

The had finished their drinks in silence, a comfortable one this time, as they watched Scarlett O’Hara on screen and Erin’s obvious disdain from certain scenes had had Jay chuckling, earning himself a swat at his knee which in turn earned Erin a raised eyebrow and a pointed Hypocrite look. It was after Jay had taken the mugs to the kitchen and washed them and the saucepan, that he’d made a move that had shocked Erin, frozen her momentarily. When Jay returned to the sofa, Erin had expected him to settle on the sofa and open his arms for her to crawl over so they could cuddle for an hour or so. However, he had sat in the space that she’d usually crawl over and then moved one of the pillows so he was laying on the sofa, his head on her lap, her hand curled around her leg.

When the shock had worn off, her hand immediately moved to his hair, stroking through the soft strands as he grinned up at her. She grabbed the blanket Jay had tossed over the back of the sofa and covered him with it, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Is this okay?” his voice was so soft Erin thought that she’d imagined it, but the vulnerability in his eyes let her know that she’d heard him right and she grinned down at him, nodding.

“More than.”  She told him, kissing him again before adjusting the pillow at her back, smiling when he reached down to place his phone on the floor, having set the alarm. Afterwards, he curled smaller and let his eyes close, enjoying the way she was stroking his hair; allowing himself the small comfort.

Erin wasn’t sure when she fell asleep; or what had woken her, but the quiet pained groans that were filling the apartment had her alert. She began to move but the weight on her legs had her glancing down; frowning at the expression on Jay’s face and the soft sheen of sweat that was covering him. It took her sleep addled brain a second or two to work out that the noises were coming from him and a second or two longer to realize what was actually happening. Jay was having a nightmare. The man she loved was curled in the foetal position, a death grip on her leg as he muttered and pleaded about something; his body reacting to whatever was happening in his head.

She wasn’t sure what it was about, but her hand moved to Jay’s hair again, finding it matted with sweat, deepening her concern. Should she wake him? She didn’t know. Different people had different opinions on that; but Erin knew she had to do something, because Jay was becoming increasingly more distressed, increasingly more agitated, murmurs getting louder until she made out one word. Ben.

“Hey, hey, shh.” Erin cooed softly, moving her hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat hammering under her palm. “Jay, hey, come on, you’re dreaming.” She couldn’t keep the worry from her voice, hated the way her voice shook when he needed her to be the strong one. She shifted slightly to lean down, kissing his forehead. “Jay, babe, wake up. Wake up for me.” She said a little louder, stronger, hand still stroking through his hair as she tried to pull him from the dream. “Jay.”

He woke with a start: a sharp intake of breath, eyes flying open and body jerking towards the sound of her voice. He was alert in the time it took her to lean back slightly, to give him room. He was breathless, however, eyes panicked and wide, heart hammering faster and Erin began to wonder if it had been the right thing to wake him up.

“Erin.” Her name was raspy on his dry lips, his mouth clearly dry as he swallowed hard and a soft pink coloured his cheeks. It was only then the penny dropped. He was embarrassed to be having the nightmare curled up like this, with her. He was embarrassed that she’d seen him like this. Seen him vulnerable.

“You’re okay, it’s just me.” Erin told him, continuing to stroke his hair, her thumb now stroking his chest as she kept him firmly on the sofa. “It’s okay.” She reassured him, a small smile on her face as she tried to regulate his breathing, clearly fighting for control. “This?” she stated, pointedly looking at him. “Is more than okay.” It was almost a battle, she could see he wanted to move, probably lock himself in the bathroom again in the guise of having another shower, but Erin needed him to know that it was okay for him to trust her, to lean on her should he need to. She leaned down to kiss his forehead again, continuing the soothing motions of her hands until he was calm enough for her to let him sit up.

He moved, but only slightly, and his fingers curled around here in the space he was just lying on the sofa. “You wanna talk about it?” She asked, when he wouldn’t meet her eyes, almost afraid they were returning to the silence of the car. This time, however, he shook his head in the negative and eyed her bedroom door and she knew he wanted to bolt, that much was now obvious. Erin squeezed his hand and eventually he looked at her, the same lost look on his face that made him look so much younger than he was; the same look that she hated seeing on his face. Jay eventually cleared his throat, opening and closing his mouth a few times before the alarm went off, causing both to jump, chuckling when he reached down to turn it off, hands still wrapped in hers.

“I think I should shower again,” he said quietly, “dunno when I’m going to get another shot.” Jay leaned over and pressed a kiss to Erin’s lips, taking her slightly by surprise but bringing both of her hands up to cup his cheeks, rubbing her thumbs over the slight scruff before pulling back and raising a brow.

“Fine, and a quick shave.” He grumbled, the shadows dissipating from his eyes as he stood.

“If you would have let me buy you that electric shaver in the sale—“ Erin tried to reason with him, laughing when he cut her off.

“—excuse me. Those things don’t work.” He pointed his finger at her, “I like my razor, it takes me five minutes. We’re good.”

“Then take your five minutes, I need to get dressed.” The reminder of Erin’s sentence was met with a scoff as Jay made his way to the bathroom, Erin waited to hear the click of the lock, grinning when she didn’t even hear the door close properly.

Jay was a long way from coming forward about his issues; childhood, army or pre-intelligence days and she got that. Understood it. Accepted it. She’d already set herself up for the long haul with him and he’d been patient enough with her; it was the least she could do to return the favour. As she made her way into the bedroom, she couldn’t help but laugh at the sight that greeted her; Jay in the bathroom, making faces as he shaved. When his laughter and sassy remark about her distracting him made her laugh harder and suddenly they were bantering back and forth about breakfast foods and what to take back to the unit and what his secret ingredient for the hot chocolate really was.

They weren’t perfect, but it was real. It was hard work and it was painful at times but they had each other’s six both on and off the job and that’s what was important.

[julesthxmas]

how about beronica + saying their i love yous for the first time?

this has been sitting in my box forever and im sooory for that that :( but i do hope this makes up for it! this is overly cheesy because im in that mood. i hope you like it and thank you sm for sending this in!

Betty has knownthat she is in love with Veronica Lodge for a while now.

She doesn’t think about it too hard, doesn’thave a panic attack about it, doesn’t spend hours upon hours trying to dissectit, she just feels something one day, a feeling that’s been growing and warmingher chest for months and she just–knows.She knows that her heart will always beat a little faster every time Veronicasmiles at her, she knows that she’ll never tire of the way Veronica’s thumbstrokes her jaw every time they kiss, she knows that she could go her wholelife sleeping with Veronica who always has to have a majority of the blanketsand practically sleeps on top of Betty because she loves listening to theblonde’s heartbeat and never tire of it.

She knows this isit for her.

But actually voicing those three little words to hergirlfriend of nearly eight months is a whole other ball game.

-

“I don’t know howto like–” Betty shrugs, a frown in place “bring it up”

Kevin sighs andshifts around on Betty’s bed, one of her pillows tucked under his chin “Youjust tell her, B. You just say ‘I love you’, kiss her and listen to her say itback. Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy”

“But what if shedoesn’t say it back?” she turns away from her mirror to face Kevin “What ifshe’s not ready? Or just–” a sighs “Just doesn’t feel the same way, yet”

Her best friend(a title Veronica doesn’t fight for anymore claiming ‘girlfriend is a muchbetter than best friend’ and a title that Kevin has begrudgingly accepted thathe’s just going to have to share with Achie for all of his life) looks at herlike she just asked him the stupidest question the the face of the Earth“Betty, are you serious?”

“Yes, Kevin, it’sa serious concern–what if she doesn’t say it back and I have to stand thereand just act like that didn’t break my heart?”

“Oh my god” Kevinsits up on the bed, pushes the pillow that he had been hugging aside and patsthe space in front of him “c’mere, Elizabeth”

Betty eyes himfor a second before sighing and doing as told and plopping down in front of him“what?”

He grabs herhands and gives them a gentle squeeze“I say this with every ounce of love Ihave for you, okay? Remember that?” Betty nods and Kevin sighs “Okay–Betty youare a complete idiot”

“What–”

“Have you everjust seen the way Veronica looks at you?” he grabs her hands “Betty, that girlhas been head over heels since the moment she met you–she’s so love and it’sgross to even look at”

Betty chucklesand looks down at her hands “I–” she licks her lips “do you really think so?”

“I know”

The blonde smilesbefore launching herself into Kevin’s arms and hugging him tightly “love you,Kev”

“Love you too,Betty Boop” he pulls back and cocks his head “Now see? Was that so hard?”

The blonde grabsthe pillow sitting beside her and smacks him with it “oh shut it”

-

“Ronnie!” Bettyruns down the hall to catch up to her girlfriend, an arm wrapping around herwaist as soon as she gets within arms reach “tell me you’re not busy tonight”

“Hm” Veronicahums, a soft smile on her face “well, I had plans with Kevin but I’m sure hewould understand if I rescheduled for my beautiful girl”

Usually Bettywould change her mind and tell her to do whatever she was going to do but,instead, she just smiles and nods “please do because I have something plannedfor you”

“Ooh, a surprise.Color me intrigued” they stop in front of Veronica’s class door “can I have ahint?”

“Nope!” Bettygrins at her “then it’ll ruin the surprise”

“Oh fine, partypooper” Veronica gives Betty a quick peck “and if Kevin gets mad at me, I’msending him your way”

“I’ll handle him”

-

Kevin: is there areason u stole your girlfriend from me????

Betty: she’s mygirlfriend?

Kevin: i swear togod cooper,,,

Betty: I haveplans that involve me finally saying those three little words to her.

Betty: Whateveryou and ronnie had planned can wait can’t it?

Kevin: OMG!!!!

Kevin: YES. TAKEHER.

Kevin: IM SOPROUD OF YOU MY LIL GAY BBY

Betty: ill besure to pass on your approval.

Betty: thanks,kev.

Kevin: BESAAAAAFE ;))))

 -

Betty wipes hersweaty palms on her dress as she paces around her living room–she managed touse some guilt her mother still harbors about being, for the lack of a betterword, a shitty parent and got her to leave the house for a few hours, Pollybeing the best sister ever agreed to stay the night with Cheryl while herfather now lives across town in a little rundown apartment.

Her house iscompletely empty.

“Snap out of itCooper–you got this” she sucks in a deep breath “You just gotta–just gottasay it” she pauses her pacing and shakes her head “Okay, okay” she licks herlips and lets out a long breath “I love you, Veronica Lodge” the words feel alittle awkward in her mouth “I love you, Ronnie” she nods–a little better.

The doorbellgrabs her attention as it breaks the silence that had settled over the mostlyempty house. She wipes her palms on her dress one more time before going overto the door and yanking it open to reveal her grinning girlfriend “Hi” shemanages to whisper out, her nerves still on edge.

“Hello to youtoo, beautiful” Veronica drops a kiss on Betty’s lips as she steps inside. Shelooks around at the unusually empty house “Where’s Mama Coop and Polly?”

Betty huffs out alaugh–her mom is doing so much better now she it’s just her and Polly in thehouse and she knows all about her youngest daughter and Veronica but Veronicaand Alice’s  relationship is–strained. On even the best days. ‘Mama Coop’ is a nickname Veronica throwsaround as a tactic to both amuse and annoy Alice.

“She’s gonna begone for a few hours–went to go see a movie or two” she really doesn’t knowwhat her mother is going to do, is she’s being honest. All she knows is Alicesaid she’d be back at eleven sharp “And Pol is staying with Cheryl tonight”

Veronica’s mouthquirks into a smile “Oh” she spins around to face her girlfriend “So we’re alone?”

The blonde laughs“Yes but we are not going to be doing any of that–” Veronica pouts “At leastnot now. We’ll see how much time we have left to kill after dinner”

“I suppose I cantake that”

Betty just shakesher head and leads her girlfriend to the dining room where Veronica lets out alight gasp as soon as she enters–Betty 100% went all out to make the nightspecial, even if it’s on the verge of cheesey.

Which itdefinitely is with the dinner table covered in both purple and yellow rosepetals with a fairly large meal on top of flower petals, candles are placed allaround giving the room a soft glow while a song plays softly in the background.

“Oh–” she grips Betty’swrist “I–you did all of this?”

Betty nods, asoft smile tugging at the corner of her mouth “my mom may have helped with thefood, meaning I only helped with the cake but I decorated after she left” shebites down on her bottom lip “do you like it?”

Veronica blinksand smiles so brightly that Betty has to swallow back her ‘i love you’–“I loveit, baby. It’s amazing”

“Good” Bettymummers, she squeezes Veronica’s hand before letting go “Now let’s get toeating. I didn’t have my mom make most of this while I was at school just so wecould stare at it”

Veronica snortsas she sits down in her chair.

(a chair, Bettyso lovingly pulls out for her)

Dinner goes offwithout a hitch–their conversation flows easy like it always does, they bothmanage to take down most of the dinner and by the time they get to thechocolate cake, most of the candles have gone out save for the few on the tableleaving an even more intimate feeling to the room.

Betty smilesaround the forkful of cake that Veronica feeds to her “Now” Veronica places thefork on the plate and smiles her softest smile “what did I do to deserve such alovely evening, huh? It’s not my birthday and it’s not our anniversary so whatmade you pull all of this together?”

“Can’t I just dosomething nice for my girlfriend?”

Veronica hums “ofcourse but you, mi amor, are easy to read. You’ve been nervous all night” shetaps Betty’s wrist lightly “you keep grabbing your dress and wrinkling the poorthing”

Betty huffs andrelaxes her fist that had been holding onto the light pink fabric “Are you sureyou’re not the detective in the relationship?”

“Just observant”she cocks her to the side “Now–what’s going on in that amazing mind of yours?”

The blonde sucksin a breath “Okay–” she reaches across the table and grabs both of Veronica’shands, she does her best to push the idea of rejection out of her mind–sheloves Veronica and she wants to tell her, what happens after is something shecan’t think of “Ronnie, I–I did do this because I wanted–I want to–” Bettysighs and steels herself–she can do this. No matter what happens after, shejust knows she wants, she needs to tell Veronica she loves her.

Betty locks eyeswith her girlfriend and sucks in a deep breath “Veronica, when I first met you,the moment I looked into your eyes, I knew that you were going to impact me insome way. Maybe good, maybe bad, I didn’t know but I knew my life would foreverbe changed, be shifted and–and I never thought it would be like this. I neverimagined, even in my wildest dreams, that I would fall for you so hard but youmade it so easy” Veronica’s eyes shine with unshed tears as Betty sucks in abreath to keep herself from tearing up.

“With your big heart that accepted me from themoment I showed you around school, with the way you are so kind to people youdon’t even know, with the way you want to protect everyone you love, everythingabout you made it so easy to fall just–just so deeply in love with you” Veronica lets out a wet laugh, twotears rolling down her face “because I do. I love you, I love everything aboutyou and, maybe we’re too young to say forever but I do know that, right here,right now, I love you”  

There’s a beat asBetty sucks in a shaky breath, two tears rolling down her own face and thenVeronica launches herself at the blonde, clumsily pressing her lips againstBetty’s. The kiss is sweet and loving and salty from both their tears but itfeels oh, so right.

Veronica lets outa shaky breath as she disconnects her lips from Betty’s “I love you too” shebreathes out and Betty feels like her face could break with how widely shesmiles at the words “I love you so much, you huge, romantic dork” Veronica cupsBetty’s face and presses a light kiss to the corner of Betty’s mouth “I havebeen dying to tell you for so long now–I was waiting for the right moment butit seems you made the right moment”

Betty laughs“I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time too” she brushes her noseagainst Veronica’s “it was kind of killing me and I just didn’t wanna blurt itout so–” she gestures to the room “here it is”

The brunettebeauty laughs “it is” she moves her hand and picks up a purple petal“enchantment” her words are soft “ Love at first sight” Betty blushes lightly,leave it to Veronica to know what every color flower means “and–” Veronicaplucks a yellow petal up “friendship”

Betty snorts“seemed fitting for us. A nice full circle moment”

Veronica smiles “and–”she pauses a moment as the song playing softly in the background finally comesto her “Songbird”

“I listened to itand–it felt right”

“God, I love you”Veronica breathes out “and it feels so good to say that”

Betty smiles “Ilove you too”

“And it feelsreally nice to hear it too” they trade a few more kisses before Betty pullsback, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“you know–” shespares a look at the clock that hangs behind Veronica “We still have an hourand half before my mom gets home”

Veronica’s eyestwinkle “then what are we still doing down here?”

-

(They manage topull themselves apart from each other and put themselves together just fiveminutes before Alice opens the front door while the mother chooses to ignorethat fact that all of Veronica’s lipstick is gone and seems to have rubbed offall over her daughter’s face)

[jugsexual]

lovely; part ii

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

PROMPT; in which archie andrews finds himself smitten with a dear friend, and after a not-so-fun encounter during lunch, it dawns on him that its about time he comes clean.

PARING/CHARACTERS; archie andrews x reader, jughead jones, betty cooper, and veronica lodge.

WARNINGS; god you’re gonna hate me but angst, feels and possibly fluff at the end.

AUTHOR’S NOTE; aaaaaaaand its back from high demand! i usually don’t do part twos to a lot of my imagines (i’ve had previous blogs) so this is a bit odd for me. either way, i hope you all enjoy!

PART ONE

It had been weeks since the dance, and for Archie, nothing had really been the same.

The world was duller and sadder. The bright red neon lights outside of Pop’s never seemed welcoming anymore. The playground behind one of the elementary schools always seemed depressing when the swing would move with the wind.

His music and grades fell slowly, chipping away like his heart did. Everyone noticed the ginger’s change in heart, the change in his personality.

You noticed it, and it made your heart shatter.

You had tried talking to him, but he would just look at you and walk away. Hell, you cornered him in the locker room once when all the boys had left.

You had never seen him so mad or upset when you did that. He looked ready to hit you, but, of course, he didn’t. He had just gripped your hand tightly and basically told you to never talk to him again.

So you didn’t.

And you had lost one of your closest friends.

You spent your days much like Archie did, except where he felt heartbreak, you felt guilt. Where he felt sadness, you felt anger. Where he felt betrayal, you felt hatred.

You felt dead on the inside.

You’d cry, you’d scream, you’d yell. Jughead had let you punch him, leaving the lanky boy with bruises that lasted for days, but he didn’t mind.

You cried in Veronica’s shoulder. You told Betty how much you hated yourself for hurting Archie.

All three of them knew how much you were in pain, but they also knew how much pain you had caused Archie.

He coped differently then you did. He kept to himself, stayed in his room, started missing games and let his guitar collect dust in the corner of his room.

Sometimes they had to check up on him, just to make sure he wasn’t dead on the floor.

His room smelled like BO because he never had the heart to even get out of bed, let alone shower or do any type of hygiene other than maybe using the bathroom.

The gang gave him time, but after a week or two of this nonsense, they sent Jughead in to take one for the team.

“Jesus Christ, Archie,” Jughead said as he entered the rank-smelling room, waving his hand in front of his nose. “Have you no self-respect?”

Archie groaned. “Go away, Jughead. I’m not in the mood.”

Jughead walked over to the window, opening the curtains then opening the window itself to hopefully let some fresh air in. He saw Betty in the house next door and gave her a nod.

Operation Get Archie a Life (Or Operation GAL for short) was in motion.

“None of us are in the mood, Archie. Get out of bed and shower; we’ve got a busy day ahead of us.” Jughead said, “And I’m serious about the shower part. You smell like teenaged body odor had a baby with a dump, then had it genetically mutated into a raccoon carcass on the side of the road.”

Archie rolled his eyes, still making no move to get out of bed other. Instead, he pulled his blankets over his head and sunk further into the mattress.

Jughead sighed. “You leave us no choice, Archibald,” he said lonesomely, whistling quickly.

Moose, Fred Andrews and Kevin came into the room. With one quick stride the blankets and covers were pulled off the bed, leaving Archie exposed to the world as two of the boys, Kevin and Moose, grabbed Archie and legitimately dragged him off the bed.

“Hey, stop it!” Archie shouted, thrashing in their grips, but the didn’t oblige. They continued to drag him into the bathroom, where Veronica stood with the bath running and a hard look on her face.

“You’re going to bathe or I’ll scrub you clean with metal bristles.”

Upon hearing the threat, Moose and Kevin dropped Archie in the bathroom and left him there with Veronica.

“I’ll give you five minutes to actually get undressed and get in the shower, but if you don’t, I don’t have a problem with doing it for you.” She said, pointing to him then at the bathtub before she exited the room.

Archie rubbed his head and stood, looking in the mirror with a cringe. He looked terrible; his hair was greasy and matted to his head, his skin was oily and, dear God, did he smell.

He sighed softly and looked around. All of this was because of you. You didn’t love him back, and you broke his heart. But was it really your fault that you didn’t love him back? Could he really blame you?

He begrudgingly stripped himself of the same clothes he’d been wearing for a week, piling them into a corner before stepping into the shower. To feel the water roll off his back felt nice, as though he hadn’t felt anything in forever.

“Archie, I’m coming in.” Veronica said, cracking the door open after he mumbled a barely audible “okay.”

She was pleased to see that he had obliged, setting some fresh, clean clothes on the counter for when he was done.

“Take your time, Archiekins,” she said as she closed the door. Veronica walked down the hall to his bedroom, where his sheets were being changed and the room was being aired out.

“So far, we’ve got success,” Jughead said as Veronica walked in. “Betty managed to get Y/N over, so they’re doing whatever.”

“That’s good. Maybe all of this will settle down soon,” Veronica said with a heavy sigh, helping Kevin with replacing the sheets on Archie’s bed.

“Hopefully,” Kevin chorused, looking around the room sadly.

You sat at Betty’s desk watching your friends help Archie. Seeing him like he was… it made you sad. You were the cause of this, and you knew that.

Betty placed a hand on your shoulder comfortingly. “You know how a broken heart goes,” she said, “I’m sure things will play out-”

“I don’t think they will, Betty,” you interrupted. “I broke his heart. God, he hasn’t been to school since the dance, all because I couldn’t tell him that I love him back.”

“But do you?” Betty asked, sitting on the desk and facing you.

You shook your head. “No, I don’t love Archie. Not the way he wants me too. He’s my best friend, almost a brother to me.”

The blonde sighed. “You can’t change that,” she whispered. “I get it.”

“But he doesn’t. That’s the problem. I can’t tell him that without hurting him more. I-I don’t know what to do, Betty.” you wiped your eyes. “I-I think I just lost my best friend.”

Archie had to admit, the little boost from his friends yesterday helped get him on track.

He returned to school for the first time in the week, telling people that a family issue had come up and it was resolved. Nobody questioned it, and he was glad.

The day had been going well, the topics of conversation light and about school, as if everyone was avoiding the topic of you.

That is, until lunch, when Archie sat down with the group and you walked over minutes later.

You caught his stare, returning it as the tension in the air rose tremendously.

Jughead cleared his throat as you sat down across from Archie, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you pushed the food on your tray around.

The table was silent for the next five minutes, until Veronica slammed her fork down and stared at you and Archie. “Okay, this is enough.” she said.

“Ronnie-” Betty tried to stop her, but the dark haired girl was having none of it.

“No! You guys have been friends for practically your entire lives! How is that because one of you doesn’t feel the same way, you choose to ignore each other and throw everything away? How in Hell does that make any sense?”

You were stunned. Your lips parted and you were left staring at Veronica, trying to form words to respond, but t was futile.

Archie was barely any different, except he was looking down at his untouched foot with wide eyes like an owl’s.

It was silent again until you spoke.

“Somethings are better left unsaid,” you murmured, “But when they’re spoken, there are consequences that follow.”

You grabbed your tray and stood, dumping the cold food into a trashcan and walking away with your head bowed and tears in your eyes.

Archie looked at Veronica, and with a sudden burst of confidence, he stood and raced after you, weaving through the kids in the courtyard until he grabbed your shoulder.

“Y/N, please,” he whispered. “Can we- Can we talk?”

You looked over at him and gulped. “I don’t know, can we?” you replied. “Should we, Archie? Or should we just let this go?”

“We have to,” he murmured, “God, I miss you, so much. I-I need you in my life, Y/N.”

You wiped your eyes. “I can’t be what you want me to be, Arch,” you mumbled, “I can’t tell you what you want to hear.”

“I-I know that,” Archie’s hand fell to grab yours, sadness in his eyes when you looked up at him. “But that’s okay. I can get over it, I can. I just need you with me, whether as friends or more,”

You smiled a little. He was willing to make this work, no matter how hard it would be.

“Who knows? You might fall for me in time,” he then joked upon seeing the smile on your lips. You let out a small laugh, looking at your friends at the table briefly before meeting his gaze.

“Maybe,” you murmured, “But for now, we’re just friends. Best friends.”

“Until the end,” he smiled, and you wrapped your arms around his frame, giggling when he picked you up off the ground and squeezed you tight.

“I love you, Archie.” you murmured happily.

“I love you too, Y/N.” And in the distance, you could hear Kevin and Veronica shouting, “Freaking goals! I called it!”

TAGS; @itzjenifer , @allysands , @stevrgers , @deepestdreamlandinternet

want to be a part of the taglist? just send me a message with what taglist you want to be on! [archie, betty, jughead, veronica, and the everything list]

[palmettomonsters]

{Here.}

It’s an experiment in limitations, unofficially titled how drunk is too drunk for a person who doesn’t do the drunk thing. The mistake had been in thinking that a few extra drinks would do nothing more than loosen a few of Neil’s strings. Andrew had forgotten to consider the unfortunate side effect, that alcohol amplifies natural tendencies, and so as soon as Neil hits one too many, he takes the opportunity to thoroughly roast all of his teammates (with the exception of Andrew, who spends the evening braced for it anyway).

The non-monsters plus Nicky (and baby Foxes, whose existence Andrew ignores on principal) only egg him on, while Neil remains oblivious to the fact that they’re exceedingly entertained and not mortally wounded, like he intends. It’s a mess that Andrew watches silently from the kitchen, carefully nursing his own drink, while making sure Neil doesn’t do or say anything irreversibly stupid, or there would be additional messes for Andrew to clean in the morning.

It’s all well and good, fun and games, no one quite loses an eye, but Neil trips over a chair leg on his merry way to assault Kevin and goes sprawling on the carpet instead, amid a laughing (but concerned) chorus of fellow drunkards.

“Ow.”

Baby.

Neil rolls onto his back and claps a hand to his forehead, even though it was not his head that he hit, but most everything else.

Relinquishing the stormy hold he has on the empty kitchen, Andrew crosses the living room to loom over Neil, unimpressed and ignoring the triumphant cheers and disappointed groans as money exchanges hands behind them. (The game: how badly will Neil’s first drunken adventure end? Provide examples. Nicky whines, “Twenty bucks on Kevin bitch slapping him. So close. Damn chair. You rigged it, Allison, you put that there.” She did not.)

Neil looks up at him through his fingers and with unfocused eyes, but he smiles brilliantly. Andrew considers wiping it off of his face with his foot, but then Neil says, practically sings, “Andrew.”

Damn it. “Get up.”

Neil sits up, or, he moves vaguely within the concept and eventually settles into something resembling sitting, still clutching his head, while Andrew watches him struggle. And sway. And grimace.

“Andrew.” Strained and catching. Damn it. Andrew bends down and pulls Neil back up with him, Neil’s arm slung across his shoulders, Andrew’s arm around his waist, because now that the sorry drunk has been explicitly shown how much simpler it is to sprawl than to remain upright, that’s all the kid can manage on his own with a fluctuating center of gravity.

They leave without a word to or from the others, who are still struggling to correctly count handfuls of crumpled bills. Back in their own dorm, Andrew arranges Neil on a beanbag chair with surprising ease and grace, and fetches him a glass of water.

“Drink.”

Neil ignores the offer in favor of rubbing his eyes, as if that will help them focus. “I’m fine,” he says.

Damn it. Andrew glares and doesn’t move until Neil begrudgingly takes the glass. While Neil attempts to remember that water is good for him, Andrew retreats to the window for a cigarette, in a perfect analogy: water is to Neil as nicotine is to Andrew.

The room is dark. The lights are off because he couldn’t be bothered with the switch while his hands had been full of a stumbling Neil, and now he doesn’t care. Enough light from the parking lot slants in from behind him that he can see Neil just fine while knowing that Neil can’t really see him, silhouetted in the window. Neil looks like something he can’t place, bleary-eyed, unsteady and unreal in the off-center, blue-white glow, looking like he belongs in the half-light. Something aches in Andrew’s chest and he tries to burn it out with a hot lungful of smoke.

“You will be lucky if Kevin lets you back on his court after that embarrassingly clumsy display.”

Neil’s eyes go wide, because god forbid, and he forgets all about the glass he’s holding too tightly with both of his hands.

“Drink, junkie.”

He takes a sip, says, “Sorry,” then chugs the rest. Andrew has nothing to throw at him, nor the energy to throw, anyway.

“For making you take care of me.” Neil says it slowly, and not because he’s slurring, because he isn’t. Alcohol amplification number two: sentimentality. But only when they’re alone. (In hindsight, Andrew could have left him to suffer with the other Exy morons; Renee would have the consideration to make sure he survived the night.)

The look that Neil’s watching him with is that one that Andrew hates more than any other. Damn. It. All. He discards his cigarette, refills the water, and drags the second beanbag chair right up to Neil’s. He sits facing him, cautious space left between them, worried that in this state, Neil will get handsy and that Andrew might let him, just an inch. Because already Neil’s leaning towards him. Not touching, or even trying to; not reaching. Not anything, really, just… there’s a pull. Andrew wars between hating himself for not trusting the situation and his determination to never grow complacent.

Neil mumbles, “Thank you,” with the glass between his teeth, and it echoes oddly in the half-filled cup.

Andrew doesn’t think Neil will even remember this in the morning. “Don’t thank me.”

Neil looks up.

“I do not do anything that I do not want to do.” Neil knows this. It is fact. Maybe his common sense has been poisoned by the drink, but he should still know better than to be pitiful.

With bulky movements, Neil puts his glass on the floor and away, then turns back. Asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“No.”

Neil shakes his head grandly, as if Andrew’s no is only because he lacks the capacity to fully comprehend the question. He’s looking at Andrew with an uncanny clarity that he shouldn’t be able to manage while he’s 75% vodka. (After all, he’s not Kevin.) Then, Neil reaches a hand towards him.

Andrew steels himself, but Neil stops with more space to spare than usual, because he saw the apprehension, or, more likely, due to a lack of cooperation of his depth perception.

His fingers hover beside Andrew’s cheek, an uncoordinated indication of, “Here.”

Oh. Andrew swallows. He tries not to think it can’t hurt, because it could hurt, a lot.

“Yes.”

So Neil leans forward, carefully, one hand braced on his own knee and the other on Andrew’s chair for balance, and he touches his lips gently to Andrew’s cheek in what can only be considered a kiss with the most generous of definitions. Before Neil can lean away, Andrew curls a hand around the back of his neck to keep him close, weaves his fingers into his hair.

“Try again.”

There’s a cold intake of breath against his skin. Then, a warm press of lips. Better. Neil lingers, a moment, maybe two, and even now with his balance gone to hell, when it would be so easy for him to just crash into Andrew, he holds himself up and away, except where their faces press together. It seems uncomfortable for him, because he only means for it to be comfortable for Andrew. Damn it. Andrew won’t feel guilty for being worried, but maybe next time, he’ll worry a little bit less.

As Neil pulls away, Andrew lets his fingers run through his hair, down his neck. The look that he hates is back, and it quickly turns into the dumb grin from when Neil was a mess on the floor. It’s now Andrew’s second most hated look, but he can’t bring himself to tell Neil to stop.

Then, Neil goes green.

“Uh.” He hunches forward, face twisting, arms wrapping around himself. “Shit.”

And here, another nail in his already well-built coffin. Andrew should left him to rot next door, or, previously, anywhere else at any other time, but too late is a most ridiculous and laughable understatement. So instead, he lugs Neil to his feet yet again, and drags him to the bathroom to prevent yet another mess.

[vikingpoteto]

Summary: Matt likes to think Neil is done saying things that will get himself killed. Andrew disagrees.

Relationships: Matt & Neil, established Andrew/Neil

Warning: This is very pointless and the proof that I can write fluff and crack of anything. 

Word Count: 1474

Read on AO3

“You know what? I’m really proud of Neil,” Matt says, breaking the silence.

Everyone else in the room rolls their eyes. Nicky groans. It’s common knowledge that all of the foxes like Neil very much (though Aaron is still a work in progress) but none of them can stand Matt bragging about Neil anymore. There are two bottles of vodka, one of them empty and another halfway there (he isn't sure he suggested taking a shot every time something exploded on the screen, but boy, does that move have explosions) and drunk  Matt can and will use every moment of prolonged silence to remind them how fast Neil improved on court, how Neil is doing great this weak, how Neil, unlike other people (cue a pointed look at Nicky), is a good roommate that doesn’t leave wet socks in the bathroom.

It’s movie night, which means all of the foxes are huddled together in Matt’s room in front of the TV. Neil has left the room to pick up a call from Wymack and they paused the movie to wait for him, even though Neil had told them there is no need. Everyone was quietly waiting for him to come back when Matt decided it was a perfect time to discuss how great Neil is.

“What?” He asks.

Dan and Allison ignore him pointedly. Aaron looks a little disgusted. Nicky and Kevin give him identical condescending looks that makes him think that Kevin is spending way too much time with the cousins. Andrew, however, stares at Matt from the corner of his eye and, though he doesn’t say anything, that’s the biggest interaction they had in weeks. Renee is too nice to be upset at Matt for saying something positive about his best friend, so she asks:

“What for, Matt?”

Matt grins at her, ignoring everyone’s groans now that he has the permission to explain: “He’s been taking better care of himself lately! I’m pretty sure he hasn't said anything that will get him in trouble in weeks.”

“Are we supposed to be impressed?” Allison raises a perfect eyebrow.

“Yes!” Matt insists. “I think he’s actually growing a sense of self-preservation!”

Now Andrew is staring directly at him. Kevin snorts sarcastically.

“Are you kidding me? Neil has still zero sense of self-preservation,” Kevin says, sounding like he’s actually distressed by Neil’s recklessness. “He’s just as stupidly suicidal as before.”

Matt pouts again. “No, he isn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

There is a beat before Matt even realizes who has just spoken. He didn’t see Andrew’s mouth moving and he hasn’t heard his voice in so long he barely forgot what he sounds like – a little like Aaron, but lower. The only reason Matt doesn’t assume he’s just imagined the proposition is that every other fox in the room turns to face Andrew.

Andrew, who is sitting alone on the couch, because there is an unspoken agreement that the seat by his side is Neil’s. Andrew, who never talks to anyone outside his makeshift family and Renee. Andrew, who has never, ever had a single friendly interaction with Matt, is sitting there, looking bored, and calmly proposing a bet as if it is something he does everyday. Maybe Andrew is already drunk. Matt is too shocked to answer.

Thankfully, Renee comes to the rescue and asks curiously: “What are the terms of the bet?”

All of the foxes perk in their seats at that. As unusual as Andrew’s participation is, a bet is a bet and it’s just their tradition to take bets very seriously.

“50 bucks Neil still does and says stupid shit without thinking twice and that thoughtless mouth of his is going to get him killed one of these days,” Andrew says simply.

“Fine,” Matt says, “I bet Neil is much more careful now and he won’t say anything too risky easily.”

Everyone else takes sides. Nicky and Kevin agree with Andrew without thinking twice. Allison joins them right after. Dan looks divided for a moment, before she finally says that Neil has been much more tactful lately and it has been a while since he last started drama with anyone (Matt can’t shake the feeling that she’s just trying to support him, though.) Renee gives him a gentle smile and says that she believes Neil is doing much better regards his attitude problem, so she sides with Kevin. Aaron takes a while longer to make up his mind, clearly divided between the urge to bet against Neil and the need to disagree with Andrew. Finally, he seems to decide losing money isn’t worth going against what he actually thinks, and he finally sides with Andrew.

Dan is writing down everyone’s names on her phone and the terms of the bet, but before she can ask how they are going to settle this one – are they going to wait until Neil’s next fight and decide whether or not it was over something worth starting drama for or over some reckless impulse then? Is there a time limit for each of them? – Neil is back still checking something on his phone. His cheeks are flushed and he's obviously a little more than tipsy, judging by how he furrows his brow in an effort to comprehend whatever he's reading.

Despite being found by Andrew in Baltimore, Neil’s dumb flip phone didn’t survive the riot and Neil was forced to by an actual decent smartphone for himself. They needed to bully him into realizing he needed one and he was about to buy another flip phone like he’s some sort of drug dealer when Kevin solved things for them by reminding Neil that he would be able to watch Exy videos on a smartphone. Matt helped him with the transition and tried teaching him how to use it properly, but in the end Neil just downloaded a bunch of Exy related apps. He keeps forgetting to carry his charger with him and his phone is out of battery more often than not, making Matt think the flip phone and its durable battery were a better option, after all.

When Neil comes back to the room, he doesn’t realize all the eyes are on him, too engrossed in something on the phone screen. The fact that he's trying to read even though he's a bit drunk says that whatever he’s looking at has something to do with Exy – probably something the coach has sent him – but it also says how comfortable Neil is around them. Last year, Neil was like a stray cat, fighting to not be noticed and wary of every small interaction. The fact that he can walk into a room calmly without even realizing he’s being stared at proves Matt’s point that Neil is, in fact, much better now.

Kevin waits until Neil is seated by Andrew’s side again before he murmurs: “Do it, Andrew.”

“Neil,” Andrew says, “I’m gonna murder you.”

“Uh huh,” Neil says without batting an eye or asking for a reason, “okay, babe, just let me finish this first.”

Dan lets out a pained groan while Allison and Nicky start laughing hysterically. Aaron makes a disgusted sound and Kevin turns his smug look to Matt, who begrudgingly fishes his wallet from his pocket.

Neil, bless him, finally looks up from his phone and to his teammates, drunkly confused and probably trying to figure out what bet has he just accidentally settled.

(Matt decide not to dwell on the fact that all the foxes collectively agree that calling Andrew Minyard “babe” is a wish for death, especially because Andrew is his best friend’s boyfriend.)

(He does, however, kick aside his reservations towards Andrew after movie night is over. He waits until Kevin pulls Neil aside to discuss whatever Wymack sent him and he approaches Andrew subtly.)

“How did you know?” Matt asks and, when Andrew gives him an empty look in response, he adds: “How did you know Neil was going to say something so stupid?”

Andrew stares at him for the longest moment. Matt is sure that he’s going to be ignored, but apparently Andrew is drunk enough to humor him a little more.

“One time I told him I 90% of the time I wanted to skin him alive,” Andrew says. “He looked at me and asked me about the other 10%.”

Matt blinks once. Twice. Finally he buries his face in his hands and groans, making a mental note to later talk about kinks out of hand and safety with Neil, because holy shit.

Unimpressed with his frustration, Andrew turns around and walks towards Neil and Kevin instead, leaving Matt alone.

He still has best friend privileges, but, as he watches Andrew easily drag Neil away from Kevin, Matt promises himself that he will never, ever bet against Andrew again. Not when the subject of the bet is Neil.