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fugitive-96 · 4 years ago

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The Witching Hour (A TG/TF story)

"Okay we all ready for this?" Trish asked.

"As ready as we'll ever be." Blake replied.

"Ted, start the tape." Trish said.

Ted walked over to the table with the tape recorder and hit record.

"You ready Angela?" Trish said over to Angela who was sitting on the floor in front of a Ouija board opposite Henry.

"The time is 03:00 AM, Halloween night 1989. We are standing in the basement of the long abandoned Hall House where we are about to attempt contact with the astral plane." Trish spoke into her small recorder.

The four friends had long been shunned in school for being interested in the supernatural, more specifically their beliefs in things like psychic powers, various forms of spirits, and other creatures from urban legends.

The group of friends was made up of two boys and two girls. Blake who was currently standing by with a camera was tall with slicked back black hair and a set of thin spectacles and was dressed in a poorly made Frankenstein Monster's costume, albeit he'd removed the makeup. The second boy was Ted who was operating the various equipment such as the speakers and the large tape recorder sitting on the table who was average height with slightly long but messy blonde hair and was dressed in a denim jacket and jeans. Henry who was slightly chubby compared to the other two and was sporting a ginger mullet matching the freckles on his face and was wearing a yellow and green high school football jacket and was operating the Ouija board along with Angela, and whilst he wasn't a member of their group he decided to tag along after Trish and Angela invited him. Angela was the quietest of the group, but was also the one with the most extreme ideas, she was dressed in what she called her usual 'gothic punk' getup with shoulder length black hair, a black tank top and jeans, along with various studded items around her thin arms and a pair of studs on her lips which along with her eyes were done up in black makeup whilst the rest of her face was pale white. Lastly there was Trish who was the 'leader' of the group with big frizzy blonde hair and large glasses, who was sporting a green jacket and baggy clothes more appropriate for the cold weather.

The five of them had decided to spend their Halloween night in Hall House, an abandoned Manor house that had stood in their town for many years as an allegedly haunted location due to its dark history, needless to say this house was the location of murders and seances over the years. Angela was the one who suggested that they conduct their 'experiment' there, as it had been 100 years since the horrific events in the house had taken place.

They had gone down to the lower levels of the house where the events took place, and after setting up their equipment on the table they illuminated the room with only candles and were now about to begin.

"You sure this is a good idea?" Ted asked.

"*sigh* You bring this up now!" Trish replied angrily, stopping her tape recorder.

"It's just we're trespassing! I'm all for discovering what lies beyond and all that, but this doesn't really feel safe, I mean I don't think the spirits here would appreciate Angela breaking the front door of their house."

"You heard Angela, this could be our one chance to do this!" Trish responded.

"Could we get on with this already, I'm not sitting on this stone floor all night." Henry complained.

"Yeah Trish is right, we're here now so lets do this." Blake added.

"You heard them." Trish said to Ted

"Fine, but I've got a bad feeling abo-"

"Don't say it Ted, you are not jinxing this!" Trish spat.

"Anyway, back to it." She said resuming her recording.

"Okay Angela, go for it."

As Angela was about to begin Blake got his camera ready whilst Ted resumed the large tape recorder on the table which was picking up any background noise whilst a radio next to it was skipping through channels.

"Spirits, can you here us?" Angela said aloud looking up.

The planchet then began moving slowly towards yes.

"Holy crap is it actually working!" Henry blurted out.

"Shhh! *At 03:04* the planchet answered yes." Trish whispered into her recorder as Blake took a shot.

"Spirits, can you show yourselves to us?" Angela then asked

"That seems a bit direct." Blake murmured under his breath before Trish shot him a glare.

After a few seconds the planchet didn't move.

"Spirits, can you still here me?" Angela asked but again nothing happened.

Trish looked over at Ted who was still surfing through radio channels but was receiving nothing. They waited for a few more minutes but again nothing happened.

"This blows! That first bit was totally just Angela moving it by herself" Henry blurted out.

"SHHH! Be quiet Henry!" Trish whispered angrily.

"Or what, nothing's happening! Hey spirits what color's my hair?" He asked before clearly forcing the planchet over the correct letters causing Angela's head to sink in disappointment.

"*Chuckle* Hey spirits what's my favourite colour?" Blake chimed in as Henry forced the planchet again.

"It says green."

"Holy shit it really is a g-g-g-ghost!" Blake replied dramatically.

Trish then aggressively turned off her recorder and slammed it on the table.

"You're ruining it!" She yelled at Blake and Henry.

"There's nothing to ruin, nothing's happened." Blake replied.

"We were getting something!" Trish yelled back.

"Sure we were, I wouldn't have even shown up to this if it weren't for Angela being hot, and now how's the rest of the football team gonna treat me when they find out that I spent Halloween night with losers in a dusty old basement!" Henry said.

"Technically this is- was a crematorium." Ted replied.

"Hey it's because of you we started late." Blake said to Ted who just shrugged it off and continued using the radio.

"Oh shut up, if you weren't at that stupid party we could've started even earlier!" Trish yelled at Blake.

"Last time I checked the witching hour didn't start at 02:47! How are we even supposed to see anything if the room's only lit by fucking candles!" Blake yelled back.

"GUYS SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN TO THIS!" Ted yelled gesturing to the radio.

Blake, Trish and Henry all crowded around as Ted began to oscillate between radio channels which was creating a strange sound.

"Is that... breathing?" Blake asked, triggering Trish to quickly grab her tape recorder.

"Maybe it's just some old fart with a ham radio." Henry said.

"Between channels, is that even a thing?" Ted replied.

"I thought you were a nerd?" Henry replied.

"Yeah ask me about comic books any day, I don't know how radios work." Ted replied.

As they continued to listen it was clear that they were hearing a voice, albeit it was very raspy and they weren't saying anything, until suddenly...

"GET OUT!" A voice yelled through the radio causing the four of them to jump away from the table, the static now sounding louder than ever.

"What the fuck was that!" Henry yelled, but the others were speechless.

The radio then started skipping sharply through channels, back and forth sounding like a knife tearing through electricity. All of a sudden the tape begin spinning faster and faster before it erupted into sparks along with all the other equipment causing the four of them to duck. As they slowly crept back up they each grabbed one of the many torches that were sitting on the table and after checking that they still worked pointed them towards the burned and blown up remains of the radio, but the sharp sound of it skipping channels was still somehow going, however after a few seconds it abruptly stopped.

The four of them sighed with relief simultaneously before realizing that the sharp sound of the radio going back and forth was now replaced with the sound of wood scraping back and forth.

All four of them slowly turned towards the direction of the sound and were greeted by the sight of Angela, still with her head hung low obscuring her face from view, as she violently scrapped the planchet against the now very worn looking board. She then abruptly stopped and crept forward slightly before looking up at the four of them, the light form their torches revealing her eyes to be nearly completely whited out aside from a tiny black dot of a pupil in each one.

"She's here." Angela said in a now deeper voice with a wicked grin.

"Oh fuck." Blake stammered. Suddenly the furnaces in the crematorium that hadn't been used in over 100 years ignited with roaring flames behind Angela, as slowly a circular pattern formed in the floor between her and the others, which then began to rot and sink down as what looked like blood began to seep through it until it looked like a small pool of it formed.

The four stood there speechless as slowly a woman rose out of the blood. She had pale skin and white hair, with sharp black eyebrows and what looked like red makeup around her eyes and lips. Her nails were sharp and black with crosses painted on them, in fact she also had small crosses under her eyes and studs in her nose and belly button. She wore some form of black headdress with various beads and spikes sticking from it along with angels sculpted on it. Her body was only covered by a corset that was laced in the middle showing off some of her stomach and a bra-like chest piece, both of which looked to be made from some thick leather-like material which connected down to straps holding thigh high black heeled boots onto her legs. She rose out of the floor with her eyes closed and her hands on her chest with blood dripping from her mouth down her chest and arms, her expression looking almost as though she was experiencing pleasure as she rose from her bloody gateway.

"Ooh It's good to be back here." She said as she lowered her arms from her chest and stretched her body before opening her eyes and looking at the four people in front of her.

"So, you're the two who mocked my arrival?" She said looking at Blake and Henry.

"W...we didn't mean it.. hones-" Henry began to blurt out but it was too late, the woman had pointed her finger at the two of them and purple electricity began crackling around their bodies. Their clothes were burned away as their bodies levitated as the two of them twitched and squirmed, Blake's glasses falling to the floor.

Trish and Ted backed up in shock at what they were witnessing, still speechless with their jaws hanging open.

Soon Blake and Henry's bodies were completely covered by black clouds which began swirling around them along with the electricity flashing, their screams of pain filling the room. Soon there came the sound of bones cracking and flesh rearranging and tightening as their screams turned more feminine, and during the occasional flash of electricity Trish and Ted could see their silhouettes inside the black clouds twisting and contorting as their figures became thinner and more delicate, along with certain areas becoming a lot more pronounced. During this their screams of pain shifted to moans of pleasure, then to slightly more animalistic sounds. Before long the clouds began to dissipate as their bodies became visible.

Trish and Ted stared in shock at the sight of what was formerly Blake and Henry, now in their place stood two women wrapped in black fur robes that draped down to the floor but left their bodies visible from the chest and shoulder area up. Their skin was now chalk white with pointed eyebrows and long black hair with short fringes. They had eyeliner that went off in streaks to the sides of their faces whilst black liquid dripped from their now whited out eyes. Their lips were also black and their noses were studded; their now pointed ears had circular black earrings and they each had a small necklace with a skull around their necks. They crouched there snarling with vampire-like fangs as their delicate hands with pointed black nails ran across their bodies.

"Come now my pets." The woman said causing the two of them to slink over to her crouching down behind her on each side.

"W.. what did you do to them?!" Ted yelled in a fearful tone.

"Oh them, I made them into my personal demonic hell spawn, they'll be keeping me company from now on, doing my bidding for the rest of their existence." She said as she ran her hands over their heads.

"Oh but don't worry your friends won't complain." She said with a grin.

"Now, I think introductions are in order." She said clapping her hands together.

"I am Kiniva, high ranking Demon Mistress of Hell." She announced with a grin, however noticing the lack of change on Ted and Trish's still shocked expressions her grin turned to a look of disappointment.

"Is that really how you respond to my presence!" She said angrily, before then calming down and looking intently around the room.

"Now, I believe I have business to attend to here." She continued as she very slowly began walking towards Ted and Trish, her hips swaying gracefully as she put one foot in front of the other, clearly knowing how to carry herself in the sexiest way possible with her figure silhouetted against the roaring flames behind her.

"W.. what do you want?" Trish asked nervously as she and Ted held each other fearfully as they backed up further into the corner of the room.

"Well, my loyal follower has spent many years waiting for this day." She said turning her head gesturing towards Angela.

"Wait.. what?!"

"Oh yes Ted, Angela here is the latest in a long line of followers going back over 100 years, dedicated out of shier multi-generational loyalty." She said turning around giving Angela a smile.

"Oh yeah well taste this!" Trish yelled pulling out a large crucifix and pointing it at Kiniva.

"What do you think I am, a Vampire?!" Kiniva replied angrily raising a hand to her face as she snapped her fingers causing the crucifix to erupt into flames in Trish's hand.

"Guess you didn't notice the crosses on my face." She said pointing to her face.

"But that's a holy item, it should repel you!" "Well you see Trish when you're as powerful as I am there isn't really much that can stop you, displaying that on my body wasn't enough to tell you that." She replied holding up her cross patterned nails. "Anyway enough of the small talk, I have things to do here." "What things?" Ted asked. "Well firstly I awarded my loyal follower who will now willingly accompany me back to hell as my apprentice, and those two boys were just a warmup, it's about time I had some real fun, starting with you Trish." "What are you talking about, why me!? Wasn't Blake and Henry enough?" "Oh no they were being punished for being impolite to a Demon, but you have much deeper sins." Kiniva replied with a chuckle. "What do you mean?" "You know what I mean, my follower latched on to your group due to your interests in my realm, but you didn't want to summon me to discover new worlds, new experiences, you just wanted to boost your ego."

Trish looked speechless. "It's no secret, you wanted to conduct this ritual just to prove you were right over all those other people, just knowing that I existed was enough, but you knew the danger I posed to the world and yet you went ahead without a care in the world. You didn't even show concern over your two companions over there being made into unholy creatures of hell, and that's not even the worst of it."

Trish was beginning to turn red as Ted looked at her confused.

"What's she talking about?" "Oh Ted didn't you know, she only let Henry tag along because she and Angela knew that in all of the previous rituals they had a sacrifice for me." Kiniva replied. "Is that true?" Ted asked Trish. "I...It didn't matter, he was a bully to me for two years straight back in middle school, he had it coming!" Trish blurted out through tears as she let go of Ted.

Ted stood there even more horrified and confused. "Oh Trish, it's alright. Doing something that horrible is considered admirable where I'm from." Kiniva replied as she stepped close to her.

As Trish stood there a sniveling mess Kiniva took her in her arms and held her close, running a hand over her hair.

"I'm proud of what you've done, you're officially a corrupted soul." Kiniva replied before lifting Trish's head up so they were face to face. "And you know what happens to corrupted souls." She said as her voice became much deeper before her eyes began to glow red as she held Trish in place who was screaming desperately as she tried to escape.

Trish let out a loud gasp as her waist was crushed inwards by a corset that had materialized over her torso, the binds creaking and tightening. A long black dress billowed out from the bottom of the corset covering her legs as it puffed out, and whilst it wasn't visible she could feel her feet raise as her trainers morphed into heels whilst her clothes under the dress vanished and were replaced with more appropriate undergarments. Her clothes on her upper body began to change also, with the neckline of her shirt widening and lowering down exposing an ample amount of cleavage that was being raised up by the corset, whilst her outer jacket darkened as it morphed into the upper section of the dress, with puffy shoulders, long black sleeves and dotted gloves that left her hands visible through them. An elaborate necklace formed around her neck along with earrings whilst makeup materialized onto her lips, giving them a dark gold coat whilst her eyebrows and eyes also became adorned with makeup. With the way she looked now she looked as though she belonged to a different time period.

Trish could barely express her shock at what she was experiencing as Kiniva held her in place by the head, forcing her to stare at her glowing red eyes as Trish could only imagine what was happening to her body. As Kiniva loosened her grip on Trish's head Trish's blonde hair began turning a dark brown as it lost it's frizzy look as it began to elegantly drape down her shoulders in a slightly curled appearance, before it suddenly began whipping around as it reformed on top of her head into an extravagant yet still elegantly styled bun.

Trish was speechless as she took in her new appearance, but soon noticed her whole body beginning to fade in colour; her clothes and skin were draining into a more washed out colour, but more disturbing was how her entire form was beginning to look old and flakey, not like an older person but rather like her skin and clothes were now made of a weathered material.

"Ted... help me.. please.." She begged but her voice was fading too, becoming quieter until no sound came from her lips, even her movements were becoming much slower and weaker, almost as though she'd fall apart if she wasn't careful. The sounds of her body stiffening and hollowing out continued as she froze in place with a vacant expression and her arms reaching up to her hair. Whilst she still maintained her shape she didn't look like an actual human anymore, instead she looked more like a paper model of herself.

Kiniva grinned as she drew a rectangle in the air with her finger, which morphed into a large old fashioned picture frame that floated behind Trish and lay on the floor. She then blew Trish a kiss that caused her hollowed out form to fall backwards. Ted tried desperately to catch her before she hit the frame but didn't make it in time, however instead of just hitting the frame she was absorbed into it, melting through until she was but a two-dimensional image, with the canvas taking in the weathered appearance that her skin had. Ted backed up in horror at what he'd just witnessed.

Kiniva lifted the frame from the floor as she inspected it with a grin.

"Well Trish you did like to use people like they were objects, now let's see how you like it being one." She said before propping the frame up against the wall.

"Oh God." Ted said shuddering in shock after what he'd just witnessed. "Sorry God's not here right now, you're stuck with me." Kiniva responded turning her attention towards him. "Oh don't worry about her, she's in a dimension where well... let's just say she's not going to want to leave anytime soon." "So are you gonna kill me now?" Ted asked nervously. "Well I would, or I'd turn you into another hell spawn, but unfortunately you've got something that's too valuable to waste." "What?" Ted asked fearfully. "An uncorrupted soul and genuine curiosity in what lies beyond, unlike that other mortal I just dealt with." She Replied. "Her name was Trish." Ted said with a hint of anger. "See, there it is! Even after knowing that she was willing to sacrifice another human life you still feel pity for her after what I did to her, plus you showed compassion for your other friends that I dealt with, that's the sign of an uncorrupted soul." Kiniva replied sounding impressed.

"But I can see you, what you want to know. You want to know what it's like where I'm from, and not to boost your ego or to get some rush out of it, you're just genuinely curious aren't you? You're not even really afraid of it, you tell yourself you are but you know you're not." Kiniva continued as she got closer to him. "I can show you. You can experience what it is like to be a being not of this realm, to be like.. me." She said now being right in front of Ted. "What do you say?" "I.. what will I be?" Ted asked. "Something very familiar." She replied before wrapping her arm around his head and pulling him in for a kiss.

Initially Ted was taken aback, but something was beginning to happen to him, and whatever it was felt really.. really good. The two of them began to become more passionate as they kissed each other, but as they kept going Ted's hair began to turn white as it slowly stretched down his head until it was identical in colour and style to Kiniva's.

His whole body started changing with his torso, arms and legs thinning out as his skin turned very pale and less blemished than before, in fact his skin was now incredibly smooth. As he reached up an arm to Kiniva's head his hands became more delicate and petite whilst his nails turned darker and sharper.

As they continued making out Kiniva began to slip Ted's clothes off his body revealing it to now be completely pale and rather delicate looking, but as she held him close she ran her hands up his legs to his waist, causing his thighs to bulge out along with his hips whilst his waist pulled in and his stomach flattened. His feet also looked much more feminine. She ran a finger along his spine which was followed by slight popping noises as his spine repositioned itself as his height shrank, causing his thickening thighs to jiggle.

Kiniva then started to kiss Ted more passionately, but as she stuck her tongue down his throat it travelled down even further into his body as it began reworking his insides, pushing and squishing them into new forms, with Ted seemingly being completely oblivious to what was happening to him.

"This is the best part." She whispered as she ran one hand over Ted's chest and another over his crotch, before she began running her hand up and down his shaft.

Ted moaned as he felt ripples of pleasure all throughout his body. "That's it, let it out." Kiniva said as she continued running her hand up and down, Ted completely oblivious to the shrinking of mass in his crotch.

As Ted stood there with his head back in complete bliss Kiniva's other hand began squeezing his chest, causing slight lumps to plump out.

By now Ted's penis was nearly completely gone, but as the pulses of pleasure ran through his body each pulse caused his penis to shrink whilst the mass on his chest built. "Oh yes, YES! DON'T STOP!" Ted yelled passionately, his voice raising slightly.

Kiniva grinned as she watched as the last traces of Ted's manhood fade, and began rubbing his flat crotch as a slit formed.

"OH... OOH!" Ted's moans were now completely feminine as he placed his hands over his chest as he welcomed the way they began to be filled with his rapidly expanding breasts, which continued to expand with each pulse of pleasure that ran through his body. Kiniva once again pulled him in closer causing Ted's forming breasts to squish up against hers.

As this was occurring the pulses of energy had reached his face, with it audibly cracking and stretching as it became slimmer and softer with each pulse whilst his breasts continued expanding. Whilst most of his facial features were thinning out like his nose and head shape in general, his lips plumped as his eyes grew larger along with his eyebrows becoming sharper and more defined. His eyebrows and eyelids darkened as though they were coated in makeup, whilst his sharpening cheekbones began to glisten slightly along with his lips becoming coated in black. Small cuts in the shape of crosses formed under his eyes as a pair of crosses morphed onto his face, along with a stud on the rim of his nose and on his tongue.

By now he had a pronounced set of breasts on his chest as his facial changes finalized, leaving him looking almost completely identical to Kiniva.

"One last touch." She whispered into Ted's ear who sounded as though he was about to reach climax, before she then pushed her hand into his chest, fazing through his skin which glowed orange as she grabbed his heart and turned it cold.

Ted moaned loudly in release, marking the end of his changes as Kiniva removed her hand from his chest, which was now adorned with what looked like a tattoo of a heart.

"There, now you have the identifying symbol of our type of Demon." Kiniva said to the slightly dazed Ted.

"How's it feel?" Kiniva asked her now doppelganger.

"This is, oh wow!" Ted replied looking down at his new form, still in shock at what he just went through but he strangely felt very accepting of his new situation. "I knew you'd like it."

"But I still don't understnad, why give me this but not Angela?" "Well Angela is a corrupted soul, so she will one day join our ranks, but she has to take the long way round in hell, but as my loyal follower she'll welcome it." "So, what am I going to do now?" Ted asked, a hint of excitement in his feminine voice. "Oh, I've got some ideas." Kiniva replied before her eyes glowed red as red beams shot from her eyes into Ted's.

She then began flooding Ted's mind with new knowledge, the inner workings of hell, the new powers this form allowed him to have as well as a Demon's lust for souls, as well as adjusting his mindset slightly to accommodate the intensity of this new knowledge that he'd, or more accurately she'd be needing, for now she was one with Kiniva. Once the beam had stopped her eyes turned black as a pair of red pupils flashed before returning to normal, signaling the completion of the process.

"Oh, now that feels so much better!" She said grinning with devilish energy as she lay her head back running her hands through her hair. "Thought you'd feel that way." Kiniva replied heading back over to Angela and her pets. "I must be off now, more souls to claim, more carnage to cause."

"Have fun Kiniva." "You too, Kiniva." The original Kiniva replied with a grin as a large black cloud swirled around her, consuming her, Angela and her two pets. It had nearly filled the whole room before it vanished, the fire in the furnaces having died, the hole in the floor that Kiniva rose from having repaired itself and the original Kiniva, along with Angela and her pets had vanished, leaving the room looking exactly as it did when Trish's group first entered it.

The new Kiniva stood there naked now completely silent and alone, before noticing the picture frame propped up against the wall which she picked up and inspected.

"Oh Trish, and to think I used to have a crush on you. Hope you like the view in there, don't worry I'll find a good place to display you." She grinned as she made her way out of the crematorium.

"Ooh, this place looks homely." Kiniva said as she headed off into the darkness of the house.

A few decades later..

"You sure this is a good idea?" David asked. "C'mon David, this house has stood here completely abandoned for years, people are too afraid to go near it because apparently some people went missing here back in the 80's." Brad replied. "So remind me why we're going in again?" "Because there's all the rumors about 'something' still occupying the house, so this is our chance to prove it, plus even if there's nothing this place was abandoned, so there's probably stuff in there worth millions, and seeing as it's 3:00 AM no one's gonna see us take anything." "Fine okay okay I'll go in with you." David replied reluctantly. As the two friends began making their way along the path towards the front door of the house, they were taken aback when the front door creaked open revealing the decrepit inside of the house along with the sight of a beautiful tall pale faced woman in a black dress with white hair.

"Hello boys, why don't you come inside, it's been years since anyone's visited."

The end?

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katehuntington · 5 years ago

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Title: Ride With Me (part 11) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Ash Miller, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±6400 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part 11: The company of wranglers sets up camp for the night. After spending the evening sharing stories and music around the fire, Dean has another shot to win Y/N over. Will he take it? Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: The Weight - Jason Manns & the cast, Desire - Ryan Adams, Ada Plays - Gabriel Yared (final scene). Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettishfor helping me. You girls are awesome betas. Thank you for your endless patience! Author’s note 2: In a paragraph of this chapter, Apache Indians are mentioned. This does not reflect my (or my beta’s) opinion on them.

Ride With Me Masterlist

It takes the six riders another seven hours to reach Willow Spring. The rough terrain forces them to move cautiously, especially since some members of the fellowship have little experience with these kinds of circumstances. Another reason for the slow time could very well be that Y/N halts every once every so often, simply gaping at the amazing panorama. The views are absolutely breathtaking, the young woman from Freeport has never seen anything like it. Drops that would give fear of heights a new definition, wide-open spaces that make her feel so small in this incredible world. Old volcanic remnants emerged from the depths of the earth more than a hundred thousand years ago and still stand tall today. African daisies and brittlebush decorate the grounds for miles, blossoming after last month’s rain. Copper-colored mountains surround them for as far as the eye can see, separated from each other by deep canyons. The epic proportions of the Superstition Mountains are difficult to grasp. It’s quite liberating, to move through an area so remote and untouched, with a horse the only possible type of transportation. She feels like an explorer, a conqueror from the old times. No car could take her here, not even a tank or a helicopter would be able to get Y/N over these boulders and through the narrow canyons. Only Joplin can.

The cowgirl rests her wrist on the horn of the saddle, the reins loosely in between the fingers of her left hand. Joplin still speedwalks under her rider, who stopped attempting to slow her down hours ago. Apparently, the dark mare does not wish to adapt her speed, even though she asked nicely a couple of times. Of course, Y/N could have made her point, but the argument that would probably carry on for days is not worth it. Where the little horse gets the energy to keep this up, she has no idea, but Y/N is glad she’s a forward-thinker. Dragging a horse up this God-forsaken mountain wouldn’t actually be a pleasure either.

Dean reaches the final hill first, looking down at the small stream that gurgles and splashes through the worn stone several hundred feet below. A lone willow tree grows on the bank, surrounded by cattails, marking the year-round water source. It’s a heavenly sight, because the horses are thirsty, and finding Willow Spring means that today’s time in the saddle is over. Make no mistake, he loves to ride, but after ten or so hours in the saddle, his ass is starting to get sore. “We’ll set up camp here,” he decides, glancing over his shoulder at the others before he gives Ted the aid to descend the steep slope.

Dropped back on his hocks with his hooves out in front of him, the gelding makes his way down the hillside, trying to find the easiest path as he snakes down the mountain. Dean sits back, maintaining the balance as he lets his horse figure it out. When Ted reaches even ground again, Dean gives his companion space to drop his head completely. Alert, Ted drags his feet through the cold water, his lips on the surface of the crystal clear spring as he starts to drink, rhythmic gulps moving up his throat every time he swallows. Gently, the wrangler rustles his fingers through the bay’s mane, then he swings his right leg over the back of the saddle and lowers himself into the shallow spring. The water is pleasantly cold after a long day out in the desert and he can almost feel it sizzle when he splashes the water in his face and on the back of his neck. He rarely gets a sunburn anymore, but his skin feels tense and dry today. As the droplets run down his chin and neck, he puts his cowboy hat back on and rises up to find Y/N next to him, copying his actions. While Joplin gulps down at least a gallon, the female rider cups her hands to capture the refreshing water and wash her face clean, after which she lets the air flow from her lips in delight.

“Long ride, huh?” Dean sighs. “Sleeping is not going to be a problem, not even if I have to spend the night on a rock,” she admits. “We’ll rest up here, Benny will get dinner going soon,” he assures her. “Better be good, Benny,” she warns as she leads Joplin away from the riverbed, trading places with the Southerner. “I’m starving.” “The things I can do with canned food above a fireplace, darlin’. Those Michelin star joints can kiss my fine behind,” he returns, a bright smile and even brighter eyes adorning his face.

Dean grins at the claim and walks with Ted to follow Joplin. All fun aside, they cannot sit down and kick their feet up just yet. They have a camp to build. “Brad, Jon, you can set up camp on that plateau up the hill. Benny and I will take care of the horses. Y/N and Macy? Can find us some firewood?” He looks in the intern’s direction and she nods in confirmation. He takes over the reins of her horse so that she can get to the task at hand. “Watch out for snakes,” he presses. “I know. And kick over the wood before you pick it up,” she adds before her supervisor does. “Jo already gave you the lecture, huh?” Dean assumes, grinning. “And Ellen, and Bobby.” She giggles, looking over her shoulder as she joins Macy to find some dry wood.

The women hit the jackpot after searching the dry terrain a little higher up the stream. What once was a sheep shed is now a heap of wood and nails, nothing left standing but one corner strut. With the rotten planks stacked up in her arms, Y/N and Macy return to camp on the plateau, about a hundred feet from Willow Spring. Two out of the three tents are set up and ready to be inhabited, while the horses are tacked down and resting. Dean and Benny created a small paddock with rope, using two large boulders and a large cactus as anchor points. Within half an hour there’s a fire going and soup is bubbling in a pot above the flames. The sun is setting fast, still reflecting its orange rays on the few clouds above, drawing shadows larger than the mountains that create them. Tired from the long day, the six riders sit around their improvised stove, easy conversation and joyful laughs rising up from the valley. It doesn’t take long before the night darkens the sky, the stars and the moon shining bright. Suddenly the desert that seemed enormous and wide-open during the day, feels cozy. Almost as if the company of six are in a room as big as the light of the fire can reach. The soup, rich with meatballs and vegetables, together with the bread Ellen baked this morning, fills their stomachs. Y/N stretches her legs out in front of her, crossing them at her ankles while she sits down on a boulder, stretching her back to fight the dull ache.

“Who wants a beer?” The intern looks up surprised while Benny gets up and looks from one to the other. “We’ve got beer?” Brad, apparently as astonished as she is, wonders. Benny shows his set of pearly whites and descends down the hill towards the cold spring. “Even better,” he corrects, as he pulls the six-pack from between four stones, the cold water dripping from the bottles. “We’ve got cold beer.” The wranglers cheer as the Southerner makes his way up the slope again, after which he rummages in one of the saddlebags, probably to find an opener. Casually Y/N glances over, but then she furrows her brow as something catches her eye before Benny closes the straps again. Was that the handle of a pistol she spotted? The gears in her head start turning. Why would they bring a gun on a trail ride? Y/N isn’t a stranger to guns. Her brothers and father have a hunting cabin up north at White Mountain and her oldest sibling, Jake, is a police officer in Los Angeles. At home, she knows where they keep the guns, and in case of an emergency, she knows how to use them. Still, she wonders; why bring one here into the desert, miles from a living soul? Wild animals, maybe?

“Here ya go, darlin’.” Benny hands Y/N a bottle of Corona, which she takes gladly. Then he hops up on the large rock the intern is leaning against. Dean walks around the fire after pushing in a new log, then settles down on a small boulder on the other side of her. He props up one leg, the other stretched in front of him, resting his wrist on his knee while he begins to play with the silver band on his ring finger. “Cheers, y’all,” he says, raising his bottle. The others respond with a mutual ‘cheers’ and he takes a swig of the welcome refreshment. Y/N does the same, but can’t help to glance at the saddlebag again. Eventually, curiosity gets the best of her and she leans into Dean. “Can I ask you something?” He looks aside, attracted by her whisper, a little bit nervous all of a sudden now that she’s so close to him. Apparently, whatever she is going to require from him is not suitable for the tourists to hear. “Shoot,” he replies. “Why do you guys carry a gun with you?” Y/N wonders with a soft voice. Dean cocks his eyebrow and can’t help but to lift up the corner of his mouth a little. Someone is being observant. He huffs before he answers, but Benny, who apparently was eavesdropping, beats him to it. “Seems like we’ve got a detective amongst us, Chief,” the Southerner comments. A little embarrassed, Y/N stammers as she looks up at him and back at Dean, his slightly amused and soft smile taking away some of her insecurities. “I - I didn’t mean to sniff around,” she half apologizes, but Dean brushes it off. “It’s fine,” he assures, then checks on the other three to make sure they aren’t listening in. The tourists are entwined in a conversation of their own, however. “And that gun is a safety precaution.” “For what?” she asks, not settling for an answer that vague.

Dean glances at his friend, shielding his face from her for a second. It seems like he is discussing silently if he should share this matter with the intern, but in fact, he’s telling Benny something completely different. The slight nudge of his eyebrow and the suppressed little smile says one thing only: play along. “We’re not the only ones out here, darlin’. Apache Indians still roam these mountains,” the farrier from the South elaborates. Y/N’s eyes widen, as her gaze darts from Benny to Dean, but both keep a straight face. They aren’t serious, right? “Apache Indians?” she repeats, a little skeptical. Dean nods, carrying a blank expression and she could swear they are telling God’s honest truth. “Yep. You better watch out for the natives. Us white folks came here and stole their land long ago in a brutal manner,” Benny adds, taking a sip of his beer to prevent himself from breaking character. “You’re a smart Belle, you can guess what they’d wanna do to us, might we cross paths with them, out here in No Man’s Land.” Stunned, Y/N stares at him. It sounds hideous, but the way he delivers the story is disturbingly convincing. Plus, she looked into the history of the true Native Americans for a project back when she was a sophomore and remembers that there used to be a large colony at Apache Junction, not far from here. She didn’t realize that besides dangerous five hundred feet drops, unbearable heat, venomous spiders, snakes and scorpions, there is more to fear out here in these wastelands. But then she notices how Dean presses his lips together, so tight that his jaw clenches for just a second as he fights a laugh. On to them, Y/N tilts her head and throws the two boys a glare, causing them to crack. “Idiots,” she mutters as they laugh loudly. Sniggering, the friends toast their beer bottles, celebrating their successful prank. Sometimes Y/N wishes she wasn’t the easily fooled city girl. “All jokes aside,” Dean recovers, his tone serious again. “We always bring that gun on trails in case a horse injures itself lethally. We’re miles out from the road, let alone a veterinarian, so if it would ever come to a worst-case scenario, at least we can put the horse out of its misery.” Y/N didn’t expect that answer and is silenced by the reason for the weapon. She only now realizes how far from civilization they are. Slippery slopes and narrow paths over high ridges are a recipe for accidents, but that a misstep could have such consequences somehow didn’t dawn on her until now. When things go south out here, they are truly on their own.

“Did you ever have to use it?” she wonders. Dean shakes his head gladly. “No, but Bobby did once,” he tells her. “That’s why he insists on us bringing the Colt every time we go out.” “The Colt?” the intern responds. “The gun has a name?” “It’s not just some gun. It was specially made for a hunter on horseback at the beginning of the 19th century. It has been in the family for a long time,” Dean explains as he takes another swig from his bottle. “Well, I hope you will never have to fire that gun,” Y/N says solemnly. He looks at her and agrees to that statement with a small nod, because he surely hopes he doesn’t have to either. “How about some tunes, Chief?” Benny suggests. The night is still young and he is looking for ways to fill the evening; musical entertainment will do just that. Dean throws him a displeased look, though, but his friend already pulled his harmonica from the chest pocket of his jacket. He holds the instrument in front of his mouth with one hand and partly covers the exhale holes to give the extra effect as he blows on it, playing a little riff that captures the attention of the others. Dean sighs; there's no way out of it now. “What are you gonna sing?” Y/N asks the handsome man next to her. The giddiness in her voice melts away Dean’s discomfort for being put in the limelight by Benny once again. He remembers her first day on the job when he sang a couple of songs. Her beautiful eyes sparkle just as bright as they did that night and he smiles. “How about a duet?” he suggests. She snorts, almost choking on her beer. “What? With me ?! God, no. Clearly, you’ve never heard my singing voice.” “I have, actually,” he begs to differ. “You hum quite a lot when you’re working. And I heard you sing ‘American Pie’ the other day when you were cleaning tack.” “Were you spying on me?” Y/N eyes him, jumping subjects to get out of a potentially embarrassing situation. He averts his gaze, a nervous chuckle under his breath. His eyes have lingered on the new wrangler apprentice more than once. There is no denying that. “I wouldn’t call it spying,” he corrects shyly. “What would you call it then?” She pulls up her legs and folds her arms around them, resting her cheek on the flat surface of her knee as she studies him. It amuses her how flustered he gets whenever she catches him taking an interest. He can be so cocky at times, so full of it, but when she corners him only slightly, he seems self-conscious all of a sudden. Now is no different, but he gathers enough courage to look back at her again. “I’d call it admiring.”

Dean holds her gaze for a few seconds after he speaks, fire dancing in his beautiful eyes that seem to have a shade of amber now that the flames reflect in them. Unable to look away, Y/N’s cheeky grin tones down into a small smile, the words warming her more than the desert ever could. “C’mon, brother. This audience ain’t gonna wait all night.” Benny pauses his harmonica solo to rush the head wrangler, missing the conversation that was going on between the two. “I’ll handle the main vocals. Will you back me up?” Dean asks the cowgirl, not letting his pal interrupt the moment. “I-I don’t even know what you’re gonna sing,” she returns nervously. “You’re into classics; you’ll know this song,” he assures, winking at her before he turns to Benny and mouths the title of the track. Benny nods his head and then starts the melody to ‘The Weight.’ Dean looks over at Y/N as he taps his foot to the rhythm, waiting for her to identify the track just by the cords that Benny plays. Then her face lights up and he grins, knowing that she’s got it now. “I pulled into Nazareth, was feeling ‘bout half past dead. I just need some place where I can lay my head. Hey mister, can you tell me where a man can find a bed? He just grinned and shook my hand. “No” was all he said.”

Nervous for her debut as a background singer and yet delighted by his warm voice, Y/N waits for her cue. She has never sung for other people before. In her own head, it sounds quite alright when she joins in with the vocalists of her favorite songs, either while mucking out or under the shower. But to claim she can sing? Absolutely not. God, you’re gonna make a fool of yourself. Are you truly so desperate to get his approval that you signed up for this? Then Dean nudges her softly, calm eyes telling her that she’s going to be fine.

“Take a load off Fanny. Take a load for free. Take a load off Fanny…”

“- and you put the load right on me.”

Y/N joins him on the last line, hitting a higher note simultaneously with Dean, creating a vocal harmony. The cowboy smiles widely at her, impressed with her voice. Relieved, she beams when Jonathan whistles and Macy and Jon cheer. Maybe she doesn’t sound so bad after all.

“I picked up my bags, I went looking for a place to hide. When I saw old Carmen and the Devil, walkin’ side by side. I said, ‘Hey Carmen! C’mon, let’s go downtown.’ She said, “I gotta go, but my friend can stick around. Take a load off Fanny, take a load for free. Take a load off Fanny, and you put the load right on me.”

They sing the chorus together and Y/N can feel herself loosening up, swaying to the music as she closes her eyes. The classics enthusiast knows most of the lyrics by heart and dares to play with the melody a little bit when there’s room, all the time carrying a smile on her lips. A smile that is pure bliss to Dean, and watching the woman he is losing his heart to express herself has him lost for words. This is what happiness looks like and he can’t get enough of seeing her in this state of mind.

Benny finished the song with a little solo of his own, knocking his head back with the last notes and drawing applause from the others. Y/N exchanges a look with the two wranglers, thrilled with how that little collaboration worked out. As the clapping dies down, Dean becomes quiet, pondering on his next song. Curious of what he will pick next, Y/N watches him. She doesn’t know, however, that she is the one person occupying his mind. Again Dean turns to his best mate. “You know the chords to ‘Desire’, Ryan Adams?” “Sure do.” He brings the harmonica to his mouth and lets the air flow through the instrument as he moves the intakes on his lips, testing the notes. Dean listens, staring into the fire for a moment as he gets the feel of it. Then Benny starts on the verse and the cowboy begins to sing.

“Two hearts fading, like a flower. All this waiting, for the power. For some answers, to this fire. Sinking slowly, the water’s higher. Desire… Desire…”

Quietly Y/N watches as he moves his upper body back and forth slowly, like waves rolling onto the beach and pulling back again. His voice overwhelms her with every note, so raw and pure and sincere that it gives her goosebumps. Sometimes his eyes close as he enjoys the flow of the song, but throughout most of his performance, they are open, looking up at either the sky or into the flickering flames. But ever so often he glances over, honest eyes strengthening the message. Is he…? Is he singing this song for her?

“With no secrets, no obsession. This time I’m speeding. With no direction. Without reason. What is this fire? Burning slowly, my one and only…hmmm.”

Desire… Desire…”

There’s a calmness that washes over her and for that moment, it feels like it’s just the two of them. While listening to the words, she brings her hand up to cover her mouth, afraid to make a sound and disturb the magic. Folded fingers press against her lips as she swallows apprehensively, feeling her throat is closing up. She is so moved, that tears shimmer in her eyes. Her eyes which never leave him, not once.

“You know me. You know my way. You just can’t show me, but God, I’m praying. That you’ll find me, and that you’ll see me. That you run and never tire.”

Desire… Desire…”

The harmonica echoes through the valley as Benny takes on the last part of the song, but the sound of the instrument fades out in Y/N’s mind. Dean watches his friend for a short moment, but then glances at her. Instantly his expression changes and she realizes he is able to see that her eyes are glazed over in emotion. “Hey…” he whispers concerned, moving his hand to lay it over hers. “I’m okay,” she assures, smiling, blinking away the tears. “In fact, I don’t think I ever felt this happy.” Dean settles, the worry leaving room for his own happiness. Supporting, he gently squeezes before he retreats his hand, holding onto her gaze just a bit longer. Then he averts his eyes to watch the harmonica player’s grand finale. Several other rock and country songs are covered and the evening flies by in record time. Adoring glances and little touches are exchanged between Y/N and Dean, without the others noticing. If it wasn’t for the company, who knows how the night might end, and she silently wishes it was just them, sitting here by the fire. It’s ten to midnight when she fails to suppress a yawn. “You and me both,” Macy comments as she gets up, covering her mouth as she yawns as well. “I’m gonna get some sleep.” It’s anything but a bad idea, because their bodies are drained. Macy’s friend and her brother get up as well, gathering their things before they go to their tent, thanking the crew for the good night.

“You take first watch, brother?” Benny checks before he hops off the boulder. Dean nods. “I’ll wake you up at three.” “Already lookin’ forward to it,” the farrier grunts. He shuffles to the tent closest to the paddock and unzips the canvas, crawling in on hands and knees, before closing the opening again. And there she has it, her wish granted; it’s just her and Dean now.

The wrangler realizes it too, because a nervousness overcomes him. He adjusts himself a little, crossing his stretched legs at his ankles as he observes her for a short minute. Poor thing, she can barely keep her eyes open. Ten hours in the saddle and traveling across the desert under the ruthless sun are taking their toll. “You should get some rest,” he suggests softly. “Tomorrow’s another day.” Almost pleading, Y/N looks up at him, because even though her body begs to differ, she wants to stay. But when a yawn escapes her again, she has to admit her loss; she is so tired, she’s not even worth a dime. With at least two more days to go, the cowgirl needs to keep her strength up. “You’re right.” She sighs as she gets up. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning. Good night, Dean.” “G’night,” he returns, an ache developing in his chest as she moves away. He watches her struggle with the tent and chuckles, but then she disappears inside, leaving a saddening silence. Within a couple of seconds he regrets his decision of letting her go, but remains seated on the rock, facing the fire. Pondering, he goes over the night, over every single moment, no matter how small. “Chief?” Dean looks over at the tent he shares with Benny, noticing how the Southerner has popped his head through the opening again. “If you were waitin’ for the perfect opportunity,” his friend carefully starts, “that was it.” The head wrangler glares at his friend, telling him that now is not a good time to judge his actions. Benny has a point, though; he missed his third shot. Let’s hope the rules of baseball don’t apply in this game of love.

Wide awake, Y/N stares at the ceiling of her tent while listening to the wildlife outside. Crickets chirp loud enough to annoy the restless woman, but she can blame the insects all she wants, they are not the reason for her insomnia. She slept for about thirty minutes, unconscious before her head hit the pillow, but without significant reason, she woke up and hasn’t been able to sleep since. A sigh slips from her lips as she shuts her eyes stubbornly, forcing herself to get some sleep, but after a minute she opens them again and turns on her flashlight to check the time. For God’s sake, it’s almost 2 AM.

Y/N switches off the torch again and tosses and turns, trying to get comfortable on the thin air mattress without waking Macy. But whatever she does, her brain continues its attempt to process and analyze every emotion that short-circuited her body last night. Every bit of hope, happiness, but most of all, the love that filled her. There’s no doubt in her mind; she knows she has fallen head over boots for Dean. The difference is that she strongly believes she witnessed his love for her as well tonight. She knew he was interested, he made that clear early on. But this… this is different. This is deeper. Inhaling slowly, Y/N tries to lower her heart rate and calm herself, but it’s a hopeless case. Defeated, she gives up and rises from the bed, slipping back into her jeans. Somewhat angry with herself, she pulls a clean tank top over her head and squirms into her denim jacket, after which she crawls to the opening to unzip the tent.

Apart from the crickets, it’s quiet outside. The campfire has decreased in size, only half a log fueling the flames. The faint light fans out and only reaches so far, drawing dark shapes past the rocks and tents. Beyond its range, the world is pitch black. A little uneasy, Y/N crosses her arms in front of her chest and tries to chase away the chill. It’s the beginning of October and the difference between day and night is growing larger. In contrast to the heat about twelve hours ago, the air seems brisk now, as it would be on an autumn night at home.

She sits down on the boulder facing the fire, hunched over as she looks around for Dean. Every sound seems magnified, sounds that she does not want to know the origin of. Didn’t Benny mention that there are mountain lions in this area? One of the horses sighs a little further up and although Y/N can barely make out their shadows, she tries to ease herself with the fact that they are calm. Their instincts would make them the first to sense danger, so if they are comfortable, why shouldn’t she be? Something rummages in the dark and slow footsteps follow. Her eyes dart in the direction where the sound comes from, but then Y/N lets out a breath of air when it is in fact the person she hoped to find. Dean steps into the light and notices the intern, clearly surprised. “Hey… What are you doing up?” “Couldn’t sleep,” she excuses simply. For a second he wonders what caused her to lie awake, but decides to leave the reason for what it is and instead makes a joke. “Scared that the Apache Indians will invade the camp?” “Shut up,” she mutters, embarrassed.

Smirking amused, he shoves some dry branches into the fire, trying to spike it up a little. He then settles down next to her on the boulder that serves fine as a bench, careful to leave enough space between them. At ease, he watches Y/N from aside, who in turn stares at the fire, intrigued. How the flames lick at the wood, slowly swallowing the twigs. How little fireflies of hot amber twirl up into the night sky.

The weariness that he felt when she left a couple of hours ago is gone instantly, her presence soothing him. She has her arms crossed in front of her chest, hugging herself to stay warm. It makes her seem so small. Without missing a beat, he reaches for the plaid blanket that he used himself earlier before he went to check the horses, and hangs it over her shoulders. Grateful, Y/N pulls the wool fabric around her body a little tighter. “Thank you.”

For a couple of minutes, the two of them just sit there, listening to the crackle and pop of the fire as they simply enjoy each other’s company. Reluctant to break the silence, Y/N steals a glance at the handsome man next to her. The radiance of the flames caresses his hair, highlighting it with gold and adding a soft glow to his freckled skin. Dark shadows bring out his strong jaw, his profile illuminated by the frantic light. There’s a softness in his eyes, his pupils slightly dilated due to the darkness that surrounds them, but they still leave enough for the beautiful shade of forest green to mesmerize her. Feeling his company’s lingering gaze, he turns his head to meet it. He smiles, the smallest chuckle rumbling deep down in his throat as he takes her in.

“What?” she wonders. “When you first arrived at the ranch, you seemed a little… out of place. We just brought the cattle in and we all looked ragged and dirty, probably smelled even worse. We had a few drinks, were loud. A proper bunch of country folks,” he starts. “And then you walked in, the complete opposite. Your hair all done, nice clothes, shiny boots.” She grins. “I stood out, huh?” “You did.” He smirks at the memory, but he’s not just reminiscing over the first time they met. “Are you telling me that I look ragged and dirty now too? Or that I smell bad?” She side-eyes him, noticing the slight horror on his face when he realizes how his words are coming across. “No! N-no, that’s not at all what I’m… Y-you smell great,” he stutters, and Y/N can’t contain a giggle. Dean scoffs and shakes his head; she got him there. Slowly the heat fades from his cheeks. “What I’m tryin’ to say is… I mean, look at you now,” Dean says, letting his eyes roam over her for a second. “You’re achieving your goals, proving the judgemental ones wrong. And I know it ain’t easy. It’s hard work. I’ve seen plenty of people cave in their first week. But not you. You became a part of the ranch… a part of this family.”

The corners of her mouth lift when the last word sets in. Family. She is a part of this family. Of course, she isn’t from here and she will always call Freeport home, and yet Y/N has never felt like she truly belonged somewhere. Not until now. “Were you one of the judgemental ones?” she asks him. “I would be lyin’ to you if I said I wasn’t,” he admits, shame evident when he lowers his head. “I’ve never been more glad to be wrong, though.” Her smile grows, much like her heart. She looks down at her feet, dragging marks with her heels in the sand. Why is she so nervous to sit here next to him, when at the same time she has never felt more comfortable?

“Dean?” She turns to him a little bit more, her knee brushing against his. The touch is so light it shouldn’t leave her skin so sensitive, but it does. “That song you sang,” she continues, daring to restore eye contact. “Was that dedicated to someone?” The wrangler’s heartbeat fastens and he’s doing his best not to heave his chest noticeably. He knows she’s not asking if he sang her a pretty song. No, she’s asking if he meant it. If every word that rolled from his tongue was the truth. If every raw edge in his voice was shaped by the rush of emotions that plows through him whenever he thinks of her. If every time he closed his eyes as he got lost in the music, it was her who he pictured. “It was,” he admits. “Does she know?” she counters, her eyes playfully taunting him. He grins, dipping his chin slightly, but his expression changes the moment she moves her hand to his face and lets her delicate fingers run through his hair, her thumb softly rubbing his temple. Under hypnosis he stares into her soul, his eyes bouncing over her features.

He’s not sure if he can speak, now that he’s completely under her spell, but he can try. “I sure as hell hope she does,” he says, his voice so soft that it is no more than a whisper. “But you tell me.”

If there was any doubt left about the attraction being mutual, it is gone now. Dean just laid it out in front of her, and as a pair of hopeful greens wait for her to respond to his words, Y/N doesn’t waste another second. She closes the few inches between them, shuts her eyes and meets the cowboy halfway. She kisses him first, the action igniting a similar sensation as diving off a cliff into unknown water: thrilling, scary, but addictively exciting at the same time. Thankfully Dean instantly responds, welding his lips against hers and taking away her insecurity. Y/N half registers him cupping her face, careful not to break the moment, but the rush of blood to the head soon has her so dizzy that she has trouble focusing.

He lingers in the kiss, drawing out the moment for as long as he can. Then they part, pausing for a second as both wranglers open their eyes. Stunned, they stare at each other. Her hand has slid down to his chest, and he knows she can feel it rising and falling under her touch, his heart beating against her palm like a drum. Trying to get a hold of himself, he takes a breath, a small smile forming on his parted lips as he swipes a frizzy strand of hair from her face. He always thought she was beautiful, but in this light, looking at him like she does now… My God, beauty doesn’t even begin to define her. Now he moves in, less hesitant, drowning in another kiss before he can help himself. His lips graze over hers eagerly, deepening the connection when she allows him to. Giving the cowboy permission, even chasing him in the touch, sets him free completely. Finally, he is able to push past the self-consciousness. Finally, he can dismiss the voice within that tells him that she deserves so much better. The woman he’s in love with wants to be with him and nothing has ever felt so liberating. He lets her know, by tracing the soft skin of her cheek with his thumb. By resting his forehead against hers for a brief moment when he needs to come up for air. By putting every bit of want and adoration into their first kiss. Every one of Y/N's senses is set in overdrive. As she breathes him in, she smells the aroma of aftershave from this morning’s trim, mixed with the scent of leather, horses and dust. She tastes the salt on his slightly chapped lips and El Corona on his tongue. She hears his respiration, the sound of him pulling in oxygen whenever his mouth parts from her for a short second, blend with the noise of her own breaths. But it’s how he touches her that blows her mind. He cradles her head, curled fingertips pressing in her skin as if he’s afraid he will lose what he just gained. Moved, she cards her fingers through his short hair and pulls him even closer, letting him know that she isn’t going anywhere. And all this time, her palm covers his heart, the steady rhythm that beats under her touch intensifying the intimacy. Wanting to stay here with her as long as possible, he lets his free hand slip over hers. After an entire month of fighting this feeling, contemplating whether this is a good idea or not, they broke through the restraints. For now, the self-doubt is gone, the fear of commitment with it. Neither of them worries about the consequences of their actions, nor about the fact that Y/N will leave in five months. At this very moment, all that matters is that they allowed each other in. Here at Willow Spring in the Superstition Mountains, Arizona. The center of the universe.

Well, you waited almost 60K for this moment. I hope it met the expectations!

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part twelve here

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renaroo · 5 years ago

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Some Times (Time and Time Again) (4/8)

Disclaimer: Booster Gold, Blue Beetle, and associated characters are the creative property of DC Comics. Warnings: Canon shaken not stirred, Heavy canon references to Booster Gold (2009-2011) and Blue Beetle (2016-2018) Pairings: Boostle Rating: T Synopsis: Booster Gold and the rest of the Time Masters are still straightening up things in the wake of the most recent universal Rebirth. But Rip Hunter is still missing in the aftermath, leaving Booster in charge with Skeets, Michelle, and Rani. But there’s a distraction for Booster, one he can’t keep himself from ignoring.

Ted Kord, miraculously, is still alive. And that makes everything more complicated than Michael could have ever imagined.

A/N: Haha! How’s that for an improved rate for chapter turn arounds! I don’t know if I can manage it weekly, but boy wouldn’t that be nice. All things considering.

And lovely and well deserved thanks to @mcbangle, @shibascarf, @secretlystephaniebrown, AlreadyThere, and Schwoo99 for your lovely feedback and support! It’s greatly appreciated.

Booster Gold

It was already a hell of a day by the time Booster finds himself racing throughout the busted up laboratory in search for Rani. He is in an all around bad mood, conflicted and somewhat wounded with old pains and traumas licking at his heels thanks to the conversation with Ted.

Then Rani — sweet, terrified, all his fault Rani — is gone. And there’s only an open wormhole leftover in the cabinet to clue him into what’s going on.

Using the Legionnaire flight ring, Booster kicks off the ground and zips back to where Michelle is standing by the lab command center. She’s looking a little shellshocked but Booster absolutely does not have time for that.

“She’s gone!” he yells at his sister instead. “She’s teleported out, but why!?” When that fails to draw Michelle’s attention, Booster comes to a hovering stop by her and stares in disbelief. “Michelle!” he snaps in imitation. “Are you listening!?”

Without turning toward him, Michelle says, “I know where she went.” Her hand draws up and points toward the chalkboard.

Not even fully listening to Michelle, Booster follows her gaze to the board and feels himself go slightly off balance. If he hadn’t been using the flight ring, he might’ve ended up on the floor sideways from the knock to his teeth.

On Rip’s meticulously kept chalkboard is a newly etched message that Booster knows for a fact was not there even earlier that day when he got back.

Ted Kord is KEY.

“What the hell?” Booster articulates first. Then, with a slight pang, he recognizes something even more pressing about the message. “Is that… is that Rip’s writing? No… Who…” he rambles out loud before glancing around the lab.

Half of him wants to accuse Rip Hunter of hiding in the shadows, of playing some kind of joke wrapped up in the 4D Chess he has been doing since he first met Booster. But there is nothing to see. There’s no one but them. Only Michael and Michelle.

Which begs another question.

“Skeets?” Booster calls out to no avail.

“Rani is looking for Rip. She sees a message from Rip. She takes the message and runs with it before thinking things through,” Michelle deduces. She then gives Booster and accusatory stare. “Wonder where she picks that up from?”

“I need to get to Ted’s, get Rani, put out any fires…” Booster lists off, already on his way to the transmat.

“Would you hold your horses?” Michelle demands. “I’ll put on my Goldstar suit and we’ll go together. I don’t like how this feels, Michael—“

“I’ve got this,” Booster doesn’t so much as argue as he is concluding the conversation.

“Jesus Christ what did I just say about running into things without thinking them through?” Michelle yells as she takes off running toward her room.

“No time for thinking!” Booster yells back, already beginning to transport. “The multiverse is colliding together because my daughter and my best friend are meeting each other!”

Michelle apparently has no comeback because rather than screaming it, Booster only hears a frustrated roar that he is far more familiar with than he should be.

In Booster’s mind, the worst case scenario is already upon him. Rani, freaking out and distressed, huddled in a corner while Ted, freaking out and distressed, is calling up whatever passes for social services among the Justice League. Someone will ask questions, take records, and Rani is suddenly on the map for some sort of time traveling ne’er-do-well to get at Booster if they want to. And he’ll lose Rani out of the great wide nothing just like he lost Rip—

Booster does his best to turn the alarms in his brain from an eleven to about a nine and thinks what complications this means for him and Ted.

Things are already complicated, Booster was hoping to go over some script or something with Michelle before hanging out with Ted again. How many things can he share? How much can Ted even be expected to believe? And how in the world is Ted going to forgive him for being a different person without any of the years and years of context that is suddenly missing between them?

How can Booster resist his instinct to constantly screw things up with the two people, at the moment, he cares about the most in terms of not getting screwed over?

It seems like a tall order, and before he touches foot in Ted’s lab again, he’s certain there’s a mix of these two things that will be his worst case scenario.

That is, until the reality smacks him in the face with a whole lot worse.

Black Beetle — his seemingly nameless and faceless enemy throughout the time stream — is standing in Ted’s laboratory. And worse yet, he is doing so with a gun much more serious than Ted’s old BB gun, right at Ted’s head. And Ted, for his part, seems genuinely stunned.

“Ted Kord,” Black Beetle snarls, “you must die!”

“NO!” Booster screams, the sound ripping through his throat from the core of his being.

He’s in the air and barreling toward Black Beetle before it even registers that Ted has leaped into action, grabbing Rani and rolling behind the desk. It’s a close call and Booster can only begin to thank his stars that Ted really is the Ted of his memories, but there’s not time to dwell.

“Get the hell away from them!” Booster roars as he connects his forcefield protected knuckles with the side of Black Beetle’s armored head.

Even with his field up, Booster feels the hit in the bones of his fist. There’s something harder to Black Beetle than the last time they fought. Which, Booster has to admit to himself, is not a good sign for him.

“Booster Gold,” Black Beetle snaps angrily, catching the second fist Booster throws at him. “I am surprised by your resilience.”

“By now you really shouldn’t be,” Booster growls back. He aims for the unarmored mouth on Black Beetle only to be caught a second time.

“After our last Beetle adventures, I had thought you had your fill of failing to save your friend from death,” Black Beetle hisses. Then, without warning, his head comes jutting forward, breaking through the field around Booster’s body with speed and precision to land a perfect headbutt for Booster’s nose. “But apparently your masochism is greater than that of the average fool.”

Dazed, Booster backs away with his hands released and instinctively reaches for his nose. Definitely broken, definitely gushing blood — but he doesn’t have the time for it because Black Beetle is already coming back at him.

Gritting his teeth, Booster directs the field shields to his left side and successfully deflects the incoming right hook. It gives him enough time to spit out a mouthful of blood and course correct. He needs some distance, maybe use a concussive blast to further to swing it.

He doesn’t get the time or the distance, however, as the Black Beetle armor produces a clawing arm-like extension which grabs Booster at the waist and clamps down, hard.

“Booster!” Ted yells.

“Mikey!” Rani screeches.

A quick panic tears its way through Booster and he glances wildly in the direction of the two voices. His fingers are still grappling with the claws of Black Beetle but his attention is fully on Ted and Rani — they are too close to all of this! Booster has to get Black Beetle away from them and do it fast.

“Stay down! Both of you!” Booster yells at them just before Black Beetle slams him headlong into the Bug.

“I have lost my patience for your persistent meddling!” Black Beetle snarls. “I will set all things right today! I will see to it that any anomalies for the time stream are destroyed! And I will enjoy listening to your pathetic screams as you know that you still are powerless to do a thing!”

Booster has literal stars in his vision once the dark clad time traveler drops him on the ground. His neck aches and he can feel the wheeze of air pushing back into his lungs. He knows he has to get back up, though, or else someone is going to do something stupid.

“I’ve had about enough of this!” Ted growls.

“Oh, no,” Booster says, smacking himself in the head to try to clear his vision quicker.

“Sir!” Skeets buzzes in front of him.

“Skeets! Save Ted! Rani! Anyone! Fuck!” Booster orders, pushing to his feet and seeing where Ted was.

Ted has already slid over the top of his desk, goggles on and pulled out some sort of large canon looking device with a fanned out disk at its front. When Black Beetle immediately shoots for the in-the-open Ted, the reply is given in kind by the strange device which showered the entire room with an immense white light.

“Solar gun kinetic converter!” Ted preens, even as the blowback sends him to the ground. He coughs. “Has a kick, but anything you throw at me, this baby will convert into a concussive blast and hit brighter!”

Booster smirks and pushes off from the ground in order to boost his launch speed as he hurled himself at Black Beetle.

The light flash from Ted’s machine has put the Black Beetle off balance enough for Booster to throw himself into and shove the man out toward the door and into the hall, out the tenth floor window.

As soon as Black Beetle crashes through the glass, Booster firmly digs his heels into the ground and skids to a halt just short of heading out himself. He releases a long sigh of relief as he actually does seem to have gotten ahead.

Unfortunately, Black Beetle’s armor seems to remember it has flight capabilities much faster than Booster did.

“Damn it,” Booster hisses, looking over his shoulder and realizing that Ted is rushing his way and Rani has crawled out from under Ted’s desk to get a better look. “Skeets! Get her down!”

The tiny robot is quick to listen, and Booster barking orders at all seems to make Ted take pause, but not before the shadow of Black Beetle hovering outside eclipses them both.

Booster locks eyes with Ted and feels that ever present twinge of guilt and horror that has lived with him for nearly five years at this point.

“Ted! Down!” Booster yells.

But it isn’t like before. There is action that Booster can take.

Thinking on his feet, Booster projects his forcefield onto Ted. It encloses the semi-retired Blue Beetle in an oval dome before moving along with Booster as they flew toward the laboratory.

“Are you going to explain anything that’s happening to me?” Ted demands as they land in relative safety from their attacker.

“Later over beer if we make it,” Booster promises wearily.

For a brief moment, Ted looks in Booster’s direction. He’s only nodding along to Booster’s words and yet, as he does so, Booster sees a trust and security from Ted that warms something deep inside of him. It’s been so long since they were doing this, side by side, both in the exact same moment.

Both trusting each other because… as long as they’re Blue and Gold they’re bound to win. Somehow. Some ridiculous fashion.

It’s all Booster can do to take a breath and feel confident that it’s going to be okay.

Just before he loses Ted’s gaze. Ted’s looking back in the direction of Black Beetle and his body immediately seizes in tension.

“Round Three!” Ted yells in warning.

Booster raises his guard and steels himself, but he already knows his main objective.

Skeets has Rani. Booster has Ted guarded with every ounce of reserve power his suit has.

Whatever comes next is going to hurt.

Black Beetle flies at Booster like a bat out of hell, crashing into him and the Bug once more. The metal surface crushes in around Booster as a result of the impact. Booster feels the air pushed out of his lungs but he refuses to think about it, instead punching as much as he can right for Black Beetle’s big dumb jaw.

Some hits land, but the momentum is working against Booster as he feels a pop in his shoulder against the grinding metal of the bug.

“You have no concept of the danger you’re in!” Black Beetle snarls, grabbing Booster’s shoulders and flying with him to the floor.

They crash into the cement, Booster first yet again, but this time Booster can get a footing. He kicks off the pavement and plants his feet right for Black Beetle’s crotch.

Even armored, the villain juts away on instinct, which gives Booster time use a concussive blast. He can only lift his left arm, but it’s enough to give space between them.

It’s not enough. Black Beetle is ready to go before Booster’s even caught his breath.

Fortunately, there is a boom followed by the cracking and folding of metal all around them.

Booster lifts up his head to get a good view as Michelle uses her magnetic fields to crush what’s left of the Bug and the surrounding loose metal and bring it down on the Beetle’s head.

“Get away from my brother!” she yells.

Taken by surprise, Beetle is brought down, the crushing weight growing the longer Michelle levies her magnetism on him. “Damn you, Carters, no!” he roars, reaching with his loosest hand toward the chest piece of his suit. “This is not over!”

With a similar BOOM and spectacle, the Beetle is gone, and all the metal and electronics in the area around him fall in a heap to the ground.

“Heard… that before,” Booster musters, pushing to his feet. His ankle twists in a wrong way and he collides with the floor. His unresponsive arm does nothing to brace for the fall.

“Michael!” Michelle yells.

“Booster!” Ted yells right along with her.

And just before he passes out, Booster thinks how unexpected and wonderful it feels to hear both of their voices at once.

#writing #dc fic #DC: Some Times (Time and Time Again)#Booster Gold #Michael Jon Carter #Ted Kord #Rani #Michelle Carter #Goldstar #Black Beetle

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ijustreallylovezebras · 6 years ago

Text

Corner Dwellers

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Y/N is at one of Tony’s parties. She meets another corner dweller

Requested: No

Warnings: Social anxiety

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere else right now,” I turn, letting out a slight laugh at the man’s sentence. He looks familiar, even though I can’t quite place him.

“Probably because I would,” I agree, “I’m not very good at this,” I gesture around me, “Parties,” I add in case he was in any doubt.

“Neither. May I join you in your corner?” He asks and I move over, making a show of presenting the other side of the seat to him.

“Be my guest,” he sits down next to me. “I’m Y/N, by the way,”

“Bucky,” he returns, holding his empty hand out, which I take, grinning.

“That’s where I recognise you from, then,” I realise and Bucky gives me a tight lipped smile, clearly not appreciative of being recognised.

“I don’t recognise you,” he tells me and I wave him off with a shrug of my shoulders.

“I try to go as unnoticed as possible,” I tell him and his smile becomes a little more genuine at my words. “I work with Bruce, though, and I was told that I had to attend this,” I take a drink from my water and Bucky frowns a little.

“You’re not drinking?” I shake my head, feeling my face heat up slightly at the question.

“I’m not a big drinker,” I say quickly, staring out into the crowd of people.

“How come?” Bucky asks, clearly not catching on to my reluctance to talk about this topic of conversation.

“Just... reasons,” I respond, looking straight ahead, pretending to not notice Bucky’s stare on the side of my face.

“Right,” Bucky says quietly. The two of us sit in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes and, just as it’s beginning to become unbearable, I decide to break it.

“So... you know Mary?” I ask and Bucky frowns a little.

“Works with Stark in the tech department?” I nod. “Yeah, she did a little on my arm once,”

“She’s trying to get with Thor today,” I inform him and Bucky chokes a little on the alcohol in his hand.

“Mary’s trying to get with Thor?” He asks, looking at me in shocked delight with my little piece of gossip. I nod, raising an eyebrow.

“My reaction too, man,” I say and Bucky shakes his head, letting out a chuckle.

“Never saw that coming,” he says.

“Don’t think anyone did. You know that Lizzie’s cheating on her boyfriend too?” I offer, pleased with Bucky’s reaction to my gossip.

“With who?” He asks, scandalised.

“Johny,”

“From health?” Bucky confirms, mouth falling open in shock and I laugh at his reaction but nodding my confirmation.

“You can’t tell people I tell you these things, or they’ll stop telling me them,” I say and Bucky gives a mischievous grin.

“I won’t, but you have to tell me when we’re both stuck at these parties,” I smile at his preposition and put my hand out.

“Deal,”

“You weren’t here last time,” Bucky whines, coming over and sitting next to me. I let out a hollow laugh at his complaint.

“Yeah, sorry,” is all I have in myself to offer and Bucky frowns but before he can press further I start off with the gossip I had least learnt since we were at one of Tony’s parties. “You heard that Jenny has stopped drinking?” I ask Bucky who shakes his head, clearly still distracted by thoughts of what could have been the reason for me missing Tony’s last party. “Yeah, she stopped because Ted threatened to break up with her if she didn’t,” I tell Bucky just as Thor walks up to us.

“Lady Y/N,” He says, grinning and giving me a bow. I stand up, smiling back at him.

“Hey Thor,” I respond, pulling the insanely tall man into a hug.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks, pulling back to hold me at arms length in order to examine my features, concern etched into every crevice of his face. I blush at his worry but nod.

“Much, thank you Thor,” he nods in response to me, clearly unconvinced. “But can you get me some more water? It’s too crowded over there,” I ask, grimacing as I look over at the refreshment table and Thor beams, clearly happy to be of use to me as he nods.

“Of course I can!” He says, grabbing the glass out of my hand and going over to the refreshment table before I can thank him. I smile a little and shake my head at the sweet actions of the God.

“Since when were you so close to Thor?” Bucky asks, his voice sounding a little sour as he poses the question.

“Why? You jealous?” Bucky glares at me and I sit back down, resting my head against his shoulder. “It’s okay, Bucky, you’re still my corner dweller,” I assure him and he smiles, but seems annoyed with himself for giving in so easily.

“So you love me more?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, bud,” I joke but Bucky tenses up at my words, clearly showing that I had hit a sore subject. “Sorry,” I say quietly, grabbing his hand on instinct, an action that makes him tense up even more at first but he slowly relaxes, squeezing my hand once to show he’s okay. I don’t let go, though, finding some sort of comfort in the action of holding his hand.

“Sam broke up with his girlfriend,” Bucky offers after a few more minutes and I sit up straight, narrowly missing hitting our heads together as I look at him in utter shock.

“Sam broke up with Lizzie?” I ask and Bucky grins, nodding, clearly happy to be able to offer some gossip for once. “But she was talking to me about breaking up with him not that long ago,” I laugh, falling back on my seat, almost missing the soft look on Bucky’s face as he watches me. But I don’t quite and my face heats up when I see the way that he’s looking at me.

“Yeah, Sam overheard and so broke up with her because he didn’t want to be broken up with,”

“I thought you weren’t friends with Sam,”

“We are... deep, deep down. And only on account of both of us being friends with Steve,”

“God, this is so teenage friendships and relationships,” I giggle madly as I listen to Bucky’s retelling of Sam’s break-up story.

This set-up had been going on for a while now. I had met Bucky five months ago and, since meeting him at that party, I had been attending many more than I used to. Truth be told, I loved spending time with the ex assassin, sharing pieces of gossip we had learnt in the time that we had last seen one another. I told him when I wouldn’t be able to make a party and he did the same, we had a good system going on and I had started to develop feelings for the sweet man.

“I’m glad we’re friends,” Bucky says and I’m shocked by his abrupt words that seemed to voice my thoughts. I grin and move closer to him, nuzzling into his neck slightly.

“Same,” I murmur.

“Are you okay?” He asks, putting an arm around me to pull me into a hug.

“Yeah,”

“Promise?” I give a tight-lipped smile and nod, just as Thor returns.

“Lady Y/N! Your water!”

I sit up, causing Bucky’s arm to fall off of me and I take the water from Thor, thanking him as I did so and taking a sip as Thor walks away.

“Why don’t you drink?” Bucky questions again, the topic had been avoided since the first time we had come to a party together and I sigh, shaking my head.

“I just... I’m not completely right up there, Buck,” I say, tapping the side of my head as I answer. “I have social anxiety an so I hate being in social situations normally and then, you add alcohol to it and - bam - it’s like I’m living in a constant panic attack,” I tell him honestly. “I can’t drink around people who I’m not close to because I get so freaked out about it and... it ends badly for everyone involved.”

I spare a glance at him from the corner of my eye. He looks sad, but its not the pitiful, sympathy filled expression I’m used to receiving when I tell people about it. I let out another hollow laugh.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to put a downer on the evening,”

“Is that why you weren’t here for the last party?” Bucky blurts out and I nod, drinking my water to avoid talking. Silence weighs heavily between the two of us, neither of us sure what we can say to break the new-found tension that lies between us. “I get really bad nightmares,”

“Excuse me?” I ask, taken off-guard. Bucky coughs, face filled with colour as he repeats himself.

“I... I have really bad nightmares and I don’t sleep anymore,” Bucky tells me, scratching the back of his head. “And Steve’s always worried about me,”

“That’s the worst, isn’t it?” I ask and Bucky nods.

“I don’t want him to worry so much,”

“Don’t want to be a burden,” I murmur, sniffing.

“C’mon, doll,” Bucky says quietly, resting his arm back over me and standing up, cradling me under his metal arm as he leads me through the crowds of people who gathered for Tony’s party.

He leads me up three staircases, avoiding the lifts because people were in them and we stop in front of a door. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key, unlocking it and leading me inside.

“I’ve got you,”

Three months later, in the corner of a party, my safe spot here. With Bucky. He had gotten me water and looked nervous, his hand shaking slightly as he gave me the glass.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, already out of gossip to tell him. We had already covered Jenny and Ted’s continued grievances over Jenny’s drinking habits, Sam still pining over Lizzie and the on-off thing that Steve still had going on with Sharon.

“I have some gossip for you,”

“Do tell,” I smile, making a big show of turning towards him, giving him my undivided attention.

“I have heard rumours of a crush,”

“Who?” I clammer, desperate to be in with the news. Normally it was me with the information, telling Bucky. People told me their secrets, sure that I would keep it to myself because I didn’t talk all that much. I did normally keep it to myself, Bucky was the only one I would ever spread gossip to, because he was like me. He knew how to keep his mouth shut and not judge.

“Me,”

“You have a crush?” I ask, desperately trying to sound excited over the sound of my heart crushing in my chest. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

“You know her,” he tells me, biting his lip. “She’s beautiful. And talented and wonderful.” He says and I roll my eyes.

“That rules out no one, Buck. All girls are beautiful and talented and wonderful and smart in their own way,” I retort, crossing my legs under me on the plush sofa.

“I knew you would say that,” Bucky says, a rueful smile on his face. “But this girl... she surpasses everyone else, she’s perfect,” there’s a distant, almost dreamy look on his face as he speaks about her.

“Who is she?” My voice is barely a whisper and I wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t heard me over the booming music of the party that was still in full swing around us, despite being in our own little bubble away from it all.

“You’ll laugh,”

“Why would I laugh?”

“Because you won’t believe me,”

“I promise on my life that I will believe you and do everything in my power to not laugh,” I tell him, placing a hand over my heart as I say the words. Bucky rolls his eyes and takes a breath, as though preparing to run a marathon. “Dude, you’re being so dramatic, who is it?” I press, pushing his shoulder.

“I like you!” It bursts out and even Bucky himself seems shocked by his direct admission. “I mean-”

“Please don’t say you didn’t mean that,” I cut him off, holding my hand up. Bucky shuts his mouth and I can almost see his brain thinking it all over.

“I like you,” he repeats a little more firmly this time and I can tell the smile on my face is too big as I lean over and kiss him.

“I like you too,” Bucky smiles and pulls me closer so I’m straddling his lap and he kisses me one more before saying:

“Lets be fucked up, corner dwellers together,”

Because I haven’t had time to finish the next part of UKA have a shitty Bucky fluff instead :)

#marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #bucky #Bucky Barnes #Bucky angst #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky fanfiction #bucky fluff #bucky fan #bucky imagine #bucky imagines #Not a request #please request

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crazyclouds5281 · 4 years ago

Text

Beast 1

The Killing Curse does not leave a mark. Ever. It forces the soul out of the body without touching it at all. What happens, then, when something takes possession of the empty husk?

Thomas Dorian Potter could barely contain his excitement. He was finally going to Hogwarts! His parents had told him so many stories of their years there- most of his father’s involving pranks, much to Lily’s fond exasperation- that Thomas didn’t even want to wait for the Hogwarts Express. He had begged his parents to just let him Floo straight over, or Apparate him there, but his mother put her foot down.

“It’s tradition, Thomas. You’re getting on that train.” And that was the end of that. So, here he was, at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, staring in awe at the steel beast in front of him. The Express was much more impressive than he expected, shining red and spewing steam.

Thomas was excitedly chatting with Ronald Weasely and Neville Longbottom, his two yearmates and best friends. Molly Weasely was giving the twins, Fred and George, a stern talking-to, while Arthur just chuckled about their latest prank. Percy looked about ready to join his mother in scolding his younger brothers, but she didn’t pause long enough for him to slip in his own comments. So, he simply glared at them, arms crossed, Prefect badge glinting on the breast of his robes. Ginevra hid behind her mother’s leg, staring at Thomas longingly, not that he noticed. James, Sirius, and Remus were joking around, with occasional input from Ted Tonks, who was also here with his wife, Andromeda. Their daughter, and Thomas’ cousin, Nymphadora, had already gotten on the Express, along with Cedric Diggory, the Weasley’ neighbor.

Suddenly, Thomas was dragged into a crushing hug by Lily, who sighed sadly. “Oh, my baby’s growing up so fast!” she cried, much to Thomas’ embarrassment.

“Mum!” he hissed, “Not in front of my friends!”

She swatted him on the back of the head, not releasing him. “Hush, you! I’ll hug my son if I want to! It’s going to be so quiet without you running around the house,” she said, already overcome with nostalgia.

“Mum!” Thomas whined, squirming in her grip. The snickers of his friends made him turn bright red.

“Fine,” Lily drawled, letting him go, but not before planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “You three get on the Express now- don’t wanna miss it, do you?”

“Bye, Mrs. Potter,” Ron and Neville chirped, dragging Thomas on board, then proceeding to take the mickey out of him.

“Oh, shut up!” Thomas snapped. “Don’t act like I didn’t see your mum wipe the dirt off your nose, Ron!” He grinned victoriously when the youngest Weasley son went as red as his hair. The three boys broke down into chuckles, lightheartedly shoving each other as they went to find a compartment, dragging their trunks along with them. They found an empty one towards the back of the train, loading their trunks up on the racks and plopping down on the comfortable seats, stretching out a bit.

“So, which class are you blokes most excited for?” Neville asked.

“Defense Against the Dark Arts!” Thomas said instantly. “I’ve already defeated a Dark Lord, so it’s obviously gonna be my best class!” he boasted, making his friends smile.

“I dunno, I’m kinda looking forward to Flying,” Ron said, a wide grin on his face. “Have I told you guys about that time I-”

“Hit a Muggle hang glider with Charlie’s old broom? Only about a million times,” Neville teased, making Ron cross his arms with a faux-pout. “I’m gonna enjoy Herbology. Mum doesn’t have much time to work in the greenhouses with me, what with being an Auror and all.”

“Speaking of being an Auror,” Thomas said, rising to his feet and pulling out his wand- ten inches, dogwood, dragon heartstring core- “Dad finally showed me a spell that he said is essential for all Aurors.” He spun his wand in a circular movement, and cried “Prot-!”

The compartment door slammed open, startling the three boys. Thomas dropped his wand from the shock.

“Hello, I’m Hermione Granger,” a bushy-haired girl with large front teeth introduced herself. “Would it be alright if I sat with you three? The people in the other compartments are horribly rude,” she rattled off. Hermione’s eye caught sight of Thomas’ wand as he picked it up, and placed her hands on her hips. “Were you about to do magic? Well, let’s see it. I’ve already cast a few of the spells in the Charms textbook, and they worked perfectly.”

The boys shared confused glances, before Ron shrugged, not seeing the harm in letting her sit with them. Thomas repeated his wand movement, shouting “Protego!”

“Er, mate… Was something supposed to happen?” Ron asked, barely holding in his chortles. Thomas frowned.

“Yeah. Dad said it was a Shield Charm.”

“Looks more like a prank,” Neville said, making Ron lose control and begin howling with laughter. Thomas stomped his foot in frustration.

“It worked when Dad did it, I swear!”

“Protego?” Hermione piped up. “That’s not in the First Year curriculum. I would know- I’ve already read all the books. It probably didn’t work because it’s too advanced for you.”

Thomas bristled at the slight to his abilities, but Ron came to his defense, stopping his cackling. “Hey, he’s the Boy-Who-Lived! He defeated the Dark Lord when he was a year old- nothing’s too advanced for him!”

“You’re Thomas Potter?” Hermione asked, latching on to the new piece of information. “I’ve read all about you! Is it true that you rode a dragon to Russia to help the Kremlin against a goblin invasion?”

“Uh… What?”

“Oh! Did you broker a peace treaty with the Canadian Prime Minister after you saved his daughter’s life?”

“Who?”

“Ooh! What about that time-!”

“Wait!” Thomas yelled, holding his hands. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about all your adventures in the books, of course!”

“Books?” Thomas asked, looking at his two friends. “What books?”

Realization dawned in Ron’s eyes. “Oh, I know what she’s talking about! A buncha people have written all these crazy things about you- Ginny’s obsessed with ‘em, despite how absolutely barmy they are.”

“Books are not barmy!” Hermione cried, offended. “They wouldn’t have been published if they weren’t true!”

“I hate to break it to you, Hermione, but Thomas hasn’t done any of that stuff,” Neville said gently. The girl looked to be on the verge of hyperventilating.

“But, but, books don’t lie!” she shrieked, bushy hair fluffing out even more. The three boys were starting to panic; none of them knew how to deal with a crying girl! They were saved by the compartment door slamming open once more. A platinum-blond boy, with his hair slicked back by copious amounts of gel, stood there with a superior smirk on his face. Flanking him were two goons, one tall and one fat, neither very intelligent judging by how dull their eyes were.

“I heard Thomas Potter was starting Hogwarts this year.”

“Malfoy,” Thomas growled, right hand tightening around his wand.

“Looks like it’s true- I was wondering if you might be denied entry for being too stupid. Anyways, I’m here to extend a hand of friendship. Now that you aren’t being led around by the nose by your blood-traitor father, maybe you’ll have the good sense to accept it. After all, the Malfoys are one of the most prominent Pureblood families in all of Britain. You would be wise to fall in line, Potter.”

“Are you even listening to the crap coming out of your mouth, Malfoy?” Neville snarled, as he and Ron stood, pulling out their wands- nevermind the fact that none of them knew any spells that would do anything worthwhile.

“Bugger off, ya slimy little git! Nobody’s joining your stupid Junior Death Eater club!” Ron snapped.

“Longbottom,” Malfoy greeted imperiously. “And look at that, another Weasel. How many does that make now, fifty? Hogwarts really needs to do something about this infestation in its halls. I suppose Potter would count amongst you idiots, what with his hair. What’s up with that, anyway, Potter? Did you dye it to look like a cheap knock-off? Or did your whore mudblood mother get a little too frisky with Weasley Senior?”

Thomas hauled off and made to slug Malfoy in his fat mouth, when a hand came out of nowhere and latched onto the boy’s wrist with an iron grip. The First Years all made various noises of surprise when a tall boy with disheveled black hair stepped into view, wearing dark gray sweatpants and a forest green hoodie. He dropped Thomas’ arm, then stooped down so he was face-to-face with Malfoy, emerald eyes glowing fiercely.

“Leave.”

Surprisingly, the three Death Eater wannabes obeyed, scurrying back up the train.

“Harry!” Thomas cried excitedly. His next cry was one filled with pain, however, as the young man slapped him upside the head. “Ow! What-?”

“Sit down. Shut up.” A livid glare stifled any protests, and all four First Years did as he said, despite three of them not being the target. “You idiots woke me up with all your yelling.” The dark bags under his eyes, which looked more like bruises, attested to how much he actually needed his sleep.

“S-Sorry,” Thomas stuttered. The older boy stared at him for a long moment, that seemed to stretch infinitely, before turning away, allowing the redheaded boy to finally breathe.

“Don’t let it happen again,” he rumbled, sliding the compartment door closed behind him. For a long while, silence reigned between the four eleven-year-olds, the rumbling of the train a dull roar in the background.

“Who… Who was that?” Hermione asked Thomas weakly.

“My older brother, Harry.”

---

Thomas was positively shaking with nerves. They were about to be Sorted, and his parents had refused to tell him how. Ron was convinced they had to fight a troll, though it was the twins who told him that, so all four agreed it was probably just a joke. Neville said it might depend on their heritage, but that didn’t quite sit right with Thomas. After all, despite the Potters traditionally being Gryffindors, Harry wasn’t (then again, Harry wasn’t exactly normal by Potter standards). Hermione theorized they might have to take some sort of test that determined their personality, which was apparently a Muggle thing. Thomas didn’t really get it.

Finally, however, Professor McGonagall ushered them into the Great Hall. The starry ceiling was absolutely gorgeous, and the archaic architecture of the Hall was a lot different than the Potter home in Godric’s Hollow. In the middle of the Hall was a hat, sitting on a stool. One of the wrinkled flaps opened up, and then-

“Oh, you may not think I’m pretty…”

It started singing! Thomas didn’t particularly pay attention to the song, too amazed by the fact that a hat was singing. Even in the Wizarding World, that wasn’t something one saw often. Eventually, McGonagall started calling people up in alphabetical order. Each student sat on the stool and wore the Sorting Hat, which screamed out a house name after a few moments. Hermione and Neville both ended up in Gryffindor, making Thomas cheer loudly, though moreso for the latter. Then, it was his turn. Thomas sat down on the stool, and the brim of the Sorting Hat dropped over his eyes, blocking out the Great Hall.

“Let’s see, let’s see…” a voice echoed in his head. Despite being somewhat prepared for it, he still jolted a bit. “Headstrong, you are. You don’t think much before jumping into things, and you have no problems with confrontation. A bit of an aversion to reading, so Ravenclaw’s out, and you tend to not do things you don’t like, so Hufflepuff is as well.”

“Don’t put me in Slytherin!” Thomas thought loudly, hoping the Hat could somehow hear him.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, lad. Better be GRYFFINDOR!” The House name was shouted out loud, and the Great Hall erupted into cheers. The loudest were the Weasely twins, who stood up on the table and yelled, “We got Potter! We got Potter!” With a wide grin, Thomas did a few deep bows, shooting a smug smirk at Draco Malfoy, and going to join his housemates. There were many congratulatory pats on the back, and people introduced themselves to the Boy-Who-Lived in droves, which made it a little hard to keep track of all the new faces.

Thomas had a feeling Hogwarts was going to be fun.

---

Hogwarts was not fun. Classes were boring. The teachers lectured for the majority of the period, leaving hardly any time for the practical lesson, and they always assigned feet of homework to people who didn’t do the spell correctly in class, such as Thomas. His hand ended up aching by the time he went to bed, every day, without fail. And then came Friday, when Gryffindor had double Potions.

The Boy-Who-Lived sat down next to Ron in the classroom in the dungeon. The youngest Weasley son was shooting suspicious glares at the Slytherins on the other half of the room.

“I don’t like sharing classes with all these slimy snakes,” Ron whispered, looking at Malfoy pointedly.

“Yeah? Well, my Dad said Snape’s the worst of them,” Thomas muttered back. It was at that moment that the classroom door slammed open, and in strode a tall man, with greasy hair, a hooked nose, and dressed in billowing black robes.

“You are here,” Severus Snape began, soft voice echoing through the room, “To learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.” The man began roll call afterwards, not even glancing up when a student answered to their name. At least, until he called on Thomas.

“Potter.”

“Here.”

Snape paused, staring at Thomas for a long moment. “Ah, yes… Our resident celebrity,” he drawled. The Professor finished roll, and then turned back to Thomas. “Tell me, Mr. Potter, what would be the result of adding powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Thomas gaped, too shocked at being singled out to make a sound. Meanwhile, at the next table over, Hermione’s hand shot into the air like a rocket. However, Snape stayed focused on the Boy-Who-Lived.

“No answer? Well, let us try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to locate a bezoar?”

“I… I don’t know, Sir,” Thomas answered reluctantly. Once again, Hermione’s hand was waving in the air, and once again, Snape ignored her.

“Then, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

Thomas remained silent, red rising to his face as he fumed.

“Pity,” Snape muttered. “Clearly, fame isn’t everything, is it, Mr. Potter?”

“Dad was right- you really are just a big git,” Thomas whispered under his breath. Unfortunately for him, the entire classroom was silent, so Snape heard him easily enough if the thunderous expression on his face was any clue.

“Out, Potter.”

“Wh-What?”

“I want you out of my classroom. I will not tolerate such insolence, such disrespect! Go to the Headmaster’s office, and you can expect at least a month of detention.”

“You can’t-!”

“Two months.”

“But!”

“Would you like to make it the rest of the year?” Thomas fell quiet, and Snape smirked smugly. “I thought not. Pack your belongings, and get out- now.”

Filled with anger, Thomas did as he was ordered, shoving his quills and papers into his bag haphazardly. He was a bit more careful with his inkwell, making sure to cap it, but that was all. He kicked his stool back under the table, and shot Snape the filthiest glare he could as he passed by the greasy bastard.

“Oh, and… Fifty points from Gryffindor.”

---

Everything pretty much went downhill from there. Much to Snape’s chagrin, he’d only been able to assign two weeks of detention, but that was far more than Thomas deserved, in his own opinion; two hours of scrubbing cauldrons by hand, or writing lines until his wrist cramped (and then continuing to write while his muscles spasmed painfully) every evening after dinner cut into much of his freetime. Thomas had to choose between hanging out with his friends or doing his homework, since he didn’t have time to do both, and the choice was obvious. After all, homework didn’t talk about Quidditch.

Snape continued being a snide arse in Potions, so whenever the Boy-Who-Lived talked back, the bat of the dungeon gleefully tacked on yet another few days of punishment. It eventually totalled up to the two months Snape had promised, and Thomas became more and more agitated as the weeks went by.

Hermione did her best to coerce them into finishing assignments, but eleven-year-old boys had a notorious lack of common sense, so it was an exercise in futility for the bushy-haired girl. More often than not, she ended up storming off with a huff, while the boys laughed at her indignance, then went back to whatever they were doing.

It all came to a head on Halloween. The First Year Gryffindors were in Charms, with Professor Flitwick standing on his stack of books to lecture them on the Levitation Charm.

“One of a wizard’s most rudimentary skills is levitation. Or, the ability to make objects float. Now, don’t forget the nice wrist movement we’ve been practicing. A swish and flick! Everyone?” The class repeated the movements together. “Good. And, don’t forget to enunciate! The incantation for the Levitation Charm is Wingardium Leviosa. Give it a try, all of you.”

A chorus of prepubescent voices filled the room as each student practiced the charm. One of the more notable attempts was by Ronald Weasely, who chanted the incantation, then flailed his wand up and down like a mace.

“Stop, stop, stop,” Hermione said, holding a hand up. “You’re going to take somebody’s eye out, Ronald. Besides, you’re saying it wrong. It’s Levi-o-sa, not Levio-saaa.”

The redhead rolled his eyes. “You do it then, if you’re so bloody smart,” he said, grinning smugly as he got ready to watch her fail. “Go on! Go on!” Hermione shrugged.

“Wingardium Levi-o-sa!” With a swish and a flick, the feather floated into the air, guided halfway towards the ceiling by Hermione’s wand. Ron stared at it in shock, and the rest of the room grew silent.

“Well done, Ms. Granger! Truly spectacular! Five points to Gryffindor, for being the first one to learn today’s spell!”

Ron fell into a sulk, not even noticing when Seamus Finnegan somehow managed to blow up his feather. After class, the youngest Weasley male jammed his supplies into his bag and stormed out of the room, followed by Thomas and Neville.

“It’s Levi-o-sa, not Levio-saa,” he mocked, pitching his voice higher to mimic a girl’s voice. “She’s a nightmare, honestly- it’s no wonder she hasn’t got any friends!”

A moment later, Hermione stormed past Ron, shoving him aside and scurrying down the hall. An awkward silence fell among the three boys.

“I think she heard you,” Thomas finally said.

---

That stench… It was unfamiliar. Not one he’d smelled in these halls before. There were many other strange ones, as there was at the start of every year, but this one was noxious, overpowering… Predatory instincts roused, his bones contorted and he dropped to four legs, ready to begin the search.

It was time to hunt.

---

“That stupid, rotten Ronald Weasley,” Hermione Granger whispered to herself, sobbing quietly. She didn’t know how long she’d been here, curled up in this stall in the second floor bathroom. It must’ve been a few hours, at least. However long it was, though, she still felt raw.

She’d come to Hogwarts hoping to find people like herself. People she could fit in with, people she could be friends with. That hadn’t been possible in the Muggle world, what with the bouts of Accidental Magic that became more frequent the more she was bullied. However, this school was supposed to have people like her; people who could bend the rules of reality. And, she’d hoped, people who had the same love for learning as her. After all, how could they not want to learn everything they could about magic? It was, by far, the most interesting subject she’d ever come across, and the fact that she could actually replicate the things she read in her books with nothing more than a few words and a wave of her wand made her feel powerful. Like she was more than the daughter of two dentists, more than a bushy-haired bookworm with too-big teeth and an even bigger attitude.

All she found in this castle was disappointment.

The Savior of the Wizarding World was just a typical eleven-year-old boy- not even a particularly pleasant one! The students were the same jealous cretins she’d grown up around, unable to handle that someone was smarter than them, able to do things they couldn’t, and they sought to tear her down to make themselves feel better. One of the most revered wizards in the country, her own headmaster, seemed like nothing but a barmy old man. It didn’t help that he hired rude people like Professor Snape, or incompetent people like Professor Quirrel.

It all added up to a very unhappy Hermione Granger, one who was starting to wish she’d never accepted her invitation to this stupid school. Then, the bathroom door exploded.

---

It was close. The second floor was where the scent was the strongest, and the monstrous bellows, like cannon blasts to his sensitive ears, let him know he was in the right place. The smell was almost unbearable, but he blocked it out, instead following the loud crashing, as whatever he hunted destroyed the room it was in.

He pushed himself faster.

---

A troll. A mountain troll, judging by its gray skin, incredible height, and the absolutely horrid smell, Hermione’s quick mind analyzed. However, while her thoughts were racing with panic, her body was frozen in terror. She’d exited the stall to see what all the noise was about, and immediately regretted it when the wall blew inwards. She was nearly brained with a piece of marble, only avoiding it because she fell on her rump with a shrill shriek. The troll roared once more, waving its club wildly, and Hermione answered with a scream of pure fear.

She scrambled backwards until she hit the far wall of the bathroom. Unable to stand, she simply curled up in the fetal position, covering her head with her arms, waiting for her demise. The troll advanced towards her slowly, swinging its cudgel around and demolishing each stall it passed, the steel crumpling under the thick wood like it was aluminum.

The only warning the mountain troll had was a low, bestial growl that reverberated off the tiles, before something slammed into its back, sending the massive monster flopping to the floor hard enough to crack the slick tiles. Razor-sharp teeth dug into the back of the troll’s neck, and it had just enough time to grunt in confusion, before its spinal cord was severed. Its ugly, misshapen head dropped to the ground, bouncing against the ceramic.

Silence reigned. Hermione, who had fully expected to be dead by now, cautiously peered past her arms, and came face-to-face with a large cat with insanely long fangs. A sabre-toothed tiger (Smilodon, her academically-inclined brain automatically corrected). It had to be over five feet tall, dwarfing Hermione’s modest height (modest for her age and gender, that is). It had thick, midnight-black fur that shone lusciously in the magical light. Its most noticeable feature, however, were the bright, emerald eyes that stared at her passively.

The smilodon hopped down off the troll’s back and stalked over to the trembling girl. There was intelligence in its eyes, though, and Hermione had a feeling the feline wasn’t going to kill her, despite the purposeful manner in which it moved, and the crimson blood dripping from its fangs. She pushed herself upright, standing on shaky legs, back pressed against the cold marble wall. Then, right in front of her, the smilodon began to change. Its long body became more compact, and it became a few inches taller. Its teeth shrunk, snout flattening, hair shortening, and before her stood Thomas’ older brother, Harry Potter. Even as a human, he cut an imposing figure, with his glowing eyes- amplified by the lenses of his glasses- apathetic stare, and the blood smeared across his lips. His tongue darted out, licking up the red liquid, only for him to turn his head and spit it out a moment later, a grimace on his face.

“Troll blood,” he murmured distastefully, turning his attention back on Hermione. “Shouldn’t you be at the feast?” His rumbling voice shook her out of her daze.

“Um, I…” She was too embarrassed to admit that she’d been in here, bawling her eyes out. So, she did something she much preferred; she rushed forward and circled her arms around his waist, burying her face in his solid stomach. “Thankyousomuch!” she forced out. Tears were sliding down her cheeks once more, but this time, it was in relief that she was still alive.

Hermione chanced a glance up when she noticed that her saviour was rather silent, and was unnerved by his flat expression. “Move,” he grunted, plucking her off the ground by the back of her robes. The First Year made a noise in the back of her throat, choking when her collar pulled against her neck uncomfortably. Harry unceremoniously deposited her outside the bathroom, not even bothering to make sure her feet were steady. She stumbled back against the wall, nearly falling. When she straightened up, she went stock-still with terror, unable to force her body to move away from the grisly scene in front of her.

So much blood...

---

It was a few minutes before the Professors arrived. Minerva, Severus, and Filius all skidded around the corner, Quirrel following after a few seconds.

“Ms. Granger!” Minerva shouted, “What are you doing here!?” The girl didn’t respond, and it was only then that she noticed her staring, horrified, at a gaping hole in the wall. Minerva pulled out her wand, ready to hex to bits anything that popped out, while herding her Lion a few steps away. Severus and Filius slowly approached, peering into the shattered bathroom, and the half-goblin squeaked.

“Mr. Potter!?”

“Potter, what do you think you’re doing!?” Severus barked, pointing his wand at the boy. Quirrel looked about ready to faint again. Curious, Minerva crept closer, and gasped, unable to comprehend what she saw. Standing ankle-deep in the guts of a troll corpse was Fourth Year Ravenclaw, Harry Potter. He was positively drenched in crimson- it dripped from the bottom of his blue-trimmed robes, was smeared over the lenses of his glasses, and nearly covered the entirety of his face. The only reason he was recognizable was because of the trademark Potter hair, which looked like a localized tornado had swept across his scalp.

Potter swiped a sleeve across his glasses- the motion drawing Minerva’s attention to the wicked, curved silver knife in his right hand- in an attempt to see who was talking to him, not that it did much good.

“I’ll be done in a moment,” the boy grunted. His knife melted into a metal baton- a wand?- and he waved it, Conjuring multiple cylindrical glass tanks. Another wave, and the troll organs, lined up on a tarp on the bathroom floor, were each guided into one tank. The last three were filled completely with dark red blood. The glass jars were all wrapped up in one burlap sack, while another bag was Conjured and filled with solid body parts, such as teeth, bones, nails, and the skull. A few Charms cleaned all the grime off Harry, and he stepped down from the ripped-up corpse, gesturing with his wand for the two floating sacks to follow after him.

“Can I help you, Professors?” Potter asked, his tone indicating it was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment.

“You can start by explaining what this is, Potter,” Severus drawled, looking pointedly at the disastrous scene behind the Fourth Year.

“I believe it’s rather obvious, Sir,” Potter replied dryly. Severus rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment further.

“Why weren’t you at the Halloween Feast, Mr. Potter?” the Deputy Headmistress asked.

“Personal reasons,” he deflected quickly, and Minerva grimaced. Of course he wouldn’t care to celebrate on this night.

“Yes, my apologies,” she said. “Ms. Granger? What about you?” she asked the girl who was standing a few paces away. The girl flushed, seemingly embarrassed.

“I… Came her because… Some of the other students were teasing me. I swear, I didn’t mean to skip the feast! I just lost track of the time!” she cried, tears prickling the corner of her eyes. Minerva felt righteous rage burning in her breast.

“Who?” she asked, ready to slap every single one of them with detention for the rest of the year. Bullying the poor girl enough to make her cry in the bathroom for hours was horrible on its own, but for it to result in her nearly dying to a troll attack!? They were lucky Minerva wasn’t contemplating expulsion! It was only the fact that this sort of incident was nearly impossible to plan, especially for a student, that kept her anger in check. Granger looked panicked, as if she didn’t want to reveal their identity and let them be punished- a kind sentiment, but utterly misplaced, in Minerva’s opinion- when Potter opened his mouth.

“Weasley Number Six, hm?”

Granger’s jaw dropped. “H-How…?” she asked, unable to formulate full sentences. Potter snorted.

“That little fool has been putting his foot in his mouth for as long as I’ve had the displeasure of knowing him. I doubt the vaunted Boy-Who-Lived is completely innocent, either.”

Minerva’s nostrils flared. “Is that so?” She turned to Granger. “Is Mr. Potter correct, Ms. Granger?” Shame-faced, the girl nodded, and Minerva’s heart went out to her little Lion. She swept forward, engulfing her charge in a tight hug. That was all it took for Granger to break down into sobs.

“I just- wanted to h-help him perf-form the Levitation Charm!” Granger wailed. Minerva squeezed her tighter, glancing at Filius for confirmation. The Charms Professor nodded, scowling furiously.

“Mr. Weasley was sitting next to Ms. Granger during class, and he didn’t seem to be having much success. I remember deciding to leave him be and help a few other students, because I saw Ms. Granger explaining the spell to him, and figured he was in good hands.”

Minerva was positively quaking with fury. “Mr. Potter, would you be so kind as to escort Ms. Granger to the Hospital Wing? I believe a Calming Draught would not be remiss at the moment. I have students to discipline.”-

Potter sighed, and looked to Severus, who flicked his wand at the troll remains, taking control of them. “I will bring them down to my office. Collect them before breakfast.”

“The livers are off-limits; I actually need those for a project.” Minerva quirked an eyebrow at the interaction, but didn’t comment. Potter came forward and scooped Granger up in a princess-style carry, causing the girl to squeak.

“I hardly think that’s appropriate, Mr. Potter,” Minerva said, lips thin with disapproval.

“Have you seen how short her legs are? I’d like to get to the Infirmary today, thank you.” Minerva snorted quietly, noting how Granger buried her face in the crook of Potter’s neck, face flaming. She smiled slightly.

“Well, since Ms. Granger seems so comfortable, I’ll allow it this time.”

“Professor!” Granger cried, sounding scandalized, though she made no move to change her position. The old Scot chuckled.

“Off with you two. Filius, Severus, I suggest you two head down to your own Common Rooms and inform the students that the situation has been taken care of.”

The other Professors nodded, before Severus said, “Fifty points to Ravenclaw, Potter, for saving a fellow student’s life.” The Potions Master stalked off down the hallway, robes billowing dramatically behind him. Filius exclaimed his agreement, and scampered away to Ravenclaw Tower, while Minerva strode gracefully to the Lion’s Den, ready to raise hell.

Tonight’s verbal arse-whooping would be legendary.

---

“Sit there, Mr. Potter. I must check you over.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you fought a bloody troll, that’s why!” Madame Pomfrey shrieked.

Harry scowled. “I didn’t fight it, I killed it. There’s a difference.”

“Don’t get smart with me, lad! If you think I won’t put you over my knee-”

Hermione giggled, watching as the Mediwitch stood toe-to-toe with the raven-haired boy, attempting to glare him into submission despite him being nearly half a head taller. The elderly woman was standing in front of the door of the Hospital Wing, blocking Harry’s attempt to leave after dropping Hermione off. The First Year felt a bit hurt, but decided that, since he’d already saved her life, he wasn’t obligated to spend more time around her. She was, however, secretly pleased when he stepped back into the Infirmary, sitting on the bed next to hers with a huff.

“Fine. Just get this over with. I’ve things to do,” Harry said impatiently. Madame Pomfrey swatted him on the head.

“I will finish when I do, and not a second sooner!” Harry muttered something about crazy old hags, earning yet another thump. Madame Pomfrey began waving her wand and whispering incantations. Lights appeared in front of Harry, and Madame Pomfrey finally cut off the flow of diagnostic spells, nodding in satisfaction. “Well, it seems you were telling the truth, Mr. Potter.” The boy growled and made to leave, only for the nurse to stop him. “However, you’ll be staying here until Professor McGonagall arrives. She Floo-messaged me, and wishes you to keep Ms. Granger company.”

A rumbling noise echoed from his chest, and the Fourth Year looked enraged. However, Madame Pomfrey just whipped out a bar of chocolate from the pocket of her robes and shoved it into his hands. The boy reluctantly quieted down, tearing open the wrapper and nibbling on the corner. Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes.

“Like a toddler,” she muttered, a fond smirk on her lips. Harry stuck his tongue out, moving to sit in the chair next to Hermione’s bed. He tapped a finger to the inside of his right wrist, and a leather-covered book with no visible title appeared, startling Hermione something bad.

“How did you do that?” Hermione asked, eyes sparkling at the thought of more arcane knowledge. Harry just cracked open the book, leaned back in his chair, and began reading. Hermione considered pouting- it worked on her parents, sometimes, when she was younger- but decided against it. He wasn’t even looking at her in the first place. They sat quietly for a while, but the silence was starting to drive Hermione mad. She didn’t even have a book to occupy herself! “So, what year are you in?”

“Fourth.”

“And you’re in Ravenclaw, judging by your robes.”

“Mm.”

“Fifth Year is when students do their OWLs, yes?”

“Mm.”

“Are you prepared for them?”

“No.”

“What? Don’t you know they’re the most important exams in your life, alongside the NEWTs? Your grades on those exams can very well determine the course of your life, such as which classes you’ll be allowed to take from Sixth Year on, and after Hogwarts, which jobs you’ll be qualified for! You must prepare properly for them- your very livelihood depends on it!”

Harry flipped the page in his book.

“Are you listening to me!?” Hermione shrieked, making the Fourth Year glance up, looking very annoyed.

“Yes. I simply chose to ignore you.”

Hermione huffed. “How rude!”

“It’s more rude of you to assume I knew none of that, despite me being in this school for longer than you,” Harry droned, returning to his reading. His eyes were flitting across the words at incredible speeds- speeds that Hermione knew she couldn’t match.

“Are you even reading, or just skimming the pages?” she asked snidely.

Harry snapped his book shut, making the First Year flinch. “Is there a reason you’re trying to piss me off?” he hissed, glaring at her menacingly. His emerald eyes glowed with a fierce light, cowing Hermione. She tried drawing upon her Gryffindor courage, but to no avail. A shiver racked her spine.

“I-I wasn’t trying to make you angry. I’m simply trying to impress upon you the importance of your exams,” Hermione explained weakly. Harry rolled his eyes.

“I don’t need you telling me that.”

“You said you weren’t prepared for your OWLs, even though they’re next year!”

“Why would I bother with that when I’ve already done them?”

“...What does that even mean?”

“It means, I did my OWLs in Second Year,” Harry said slowly, condescendingly. Hermione ignored his tone.

“What!? How!? Would I be able to do that as well!?”

“That is a matter to take up with you Head of House, Ms. Granger,” Professor McGonagall interrupted, striding out of Madame Pomfrey’s office, where she Flooed in. “And, since I am here, I am forbidding it. You will take your OWLs in your Fifth Year, along with the rest of your classmates.”

“But, Professor McGonagall, Harry-”

“Mr. Potter is a special case, Ms. Granger.” That was when the Deputy Headmistress noticed the bar of chocolate the Fourth Year was nibbling on. “I see Poppy had to bribe you once more,” she commented, beyond amused. Harry glared impotently, the effect ruined by the eagerness with which he bit into the treat.

“‘S not my fault,” he grumbled around a mouthful of gooey goodness. “The smell of potions is too strong in here.”

“Well, then I suppose I shan’t ask you to suffer it any longer. You may return to your dorm for the night, Mr. Potter.” The young man positively rocketed out of the Infirmary, making the Iron Lady of Hogwarts chuckle fondly, shaking her head. “That boy…” She occupied the chair he had been sitting in, turning her attention to her little Lion.

“How are you, my dear?”

“I’ve… Been better,” Hermione hedged. “The Calming Draught seems to have worked, at the very least.”

“Yes, Madame Pomphrey’s skill in potion brewing is only outclassed by Severus, a Potions Master. She does good work.”

“Um, Professor…” Hermione trailed off, unsure how to say what she wanted to. She fiddled with the loose fabric of her robes.

“Yes, Ms. Granger? If you have a question, you need but ask.”

“What’s going to happen with Ronald and Thomas?”

McGonagall’s face darkened like a black thundercloud. “They, along with Mr. Longbottom, will be serving three months of detention, and have been deducted fifty House Points each. Given how Mr. Potter- the younger, that is- has already lost fifty points for insulting Professor Snape during class, I’m afraid this might put Gryffindor out of the running for the House Cup.”

Tears sprung to Hermione’s eyes, despite the Calming Draught. The first term wasn’t even done, and all her hard work had already been undone? She had gained the most points among the Gryffindor First Years through her diligent, if somewhat excessive, work, and it resulted in nothing? McGonagall seemed to be able to follow her train of thoughts, because she stood and put a comforting arm around the girl’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but bullying will not be tolerated in any capacity. Hopefully having the rest of the House being quite cross with them will set those boys straight. At any rate, I have paperwork to do. Will you be fine on your own?” Hermione nodded, and Professor McGonagall strode out of the Hospital Wing, leaving the bushy-haired girl alone with her thoughts.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

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mc-dude · 7 years ago

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unuaj impresoj (g)

this takes place in very early JLI days, before booster and ted really knew each other.

or, where ted gathers some valuable data and maybe even falls a teeny bit in love

Ted likes to think that he’s a patient man.

His stomach growls. Ted clutches at it with a justified grumble.

Then again, he concedes, all of his admirable qualities have to have limits.

“Boost,” he whines as he leans back against a precarious tower of books. “I thought you wanted to get some food. Can’t we do this, like, later?”

That ridiculous mane of perfect blonde hair pops over the top of one of the shelves. Tall bastard, Ted thinks. Totally unfair. Booster’s eyes are wide and excited, face slightly flushed like he just had an invigorating workout right here in the middle of this second-hand, old-timey bookstore in the middle of downtown Paris.

“But there’s so many of them.”

Ted raises an eyebrow. “What? Books?”

Booster nods and his hair flops back and forth like a puppy wagging its tail. Ted raises his eyebrow even further.

“Well.. yeah. It’s a bookstore.” He tilts his head to the side. “Don’t they have those in the future?” He taps his chin with a finger. “I guess that would explain that weirdly intense moment you had with the magazine rack at the airport.”

Booster narrows his eyes, but his excitement doesn’t falter.

“You don’t understand! Books are, like, super rare in the 25th century.” Ted watches as he rifles through a well-worn paperback with an exceedingly gentle touch. “I only ever saw one once, and that was at a museum that we went to for a school trip.”

Ted feels his frustration slipping as he scoots forward to watch Booster run his fingers along one of the pages. There’s something about the soft, awe-filled expression on his face that makes Ted forget about how hungry he is. He crosses his arms across his chest and leans against one of the bookshelves with a small smile.

“Well, why don’t you get one?”

Booster’s eyes go wide.

“What?!” He glances down at whatever book he’s holding. “There’s no way I can afford one of these!”

Ted blinks. “Boost, these are all, like, two dollars each. Five, tops.”

Booster blinks in surprise. “But that’s as much as a coffee!” He gestures around him, book still in his hand. “These are made out of trees, Ted. Do you know how valuable a tree is in the future? How few of them are le–” he cuts himself off to rub at the back of his head. “Actually, I probably shouldn’t tell you that.”

He points at a stunned Ted with the book. “The point is, these should be worth a lot more. They should be, uh..” he frowns, glances around him “.. konservis?” He narrows his eyes, and then snaps his fingers. “Treasured!” He glances at a teetering stack of used romance novels in despair. “Not treated like–” he starts pushing the corners of the stack together “– this!”

Ted pinches the bridge of his nose as Booster aligns the books until they’re neat and orderly. “Boost, I don’t know what to tell you. You can’t change the past, right?”

Booster glances at him and shrugs. “Uh.. unclear?”

Ted rolls his eyes. He still can’t quite believe someone who knows as little about time travel as Booster does managed to find the right year, let alone even start a time machine.

“Well, books are already on their way out. All this–” he knocks on the side of one of the shelves “– is being slowly replaced by tablets and e-readers, so.” He glances at Booster who’s staring at the book in his hands with that helpless look in his eyes again, thumb sifting through the pages in the corner in a way that makes Ted’s throat feel tight all of a sudden. “So, uh, don’t think there’s much you can do about it, buddy. Sorry.”

Booster just nods and, very carefully, sets the book back on the top of the pile. “Yeah, you’re right. It just–” he runs a hand through his hair and shrugs “– feels like a waste.”

Ted stares at him helplessly. “Yeah, I get it.”

Booster takes a deep breath and throws him a small grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “Ok, so– food?” He starts to head towards the shop exit. Ted glances at the slumped slope of his shoulders, back to the pile of books, back to his shoulders.

“Uh, yeah. It’s just across the street. I’ll be there in a sec, just gotta– do something.”

Booster throws up one of his hands in acknowledgement and scoots out the door with a quiet jingling noise.

“Alright, one croque monsieur pour moi–” he hands Booster the slightly soggy container “– and one ratatouille for the blasphemous vegan.”

Booster sticks his tongue out at him. “That waiter looked at me like I was a stain on his perfectly-pressed shirt.”

Ted grins. “You’re in the cheese capital of the world, mon ami.” He pats Booster arm and gestures to the crowded street behind them. “Not eating their delicious food is a grave offence. Many-a-heads were lopped off for less.”

Booster raises and eyebrow critically, like he’s not believing Ted’s blatant bullshitting, and leans back against the railing. The sunlight catches on the tips of his hair; Ted almost wishes he had sunglasses.

“It’s not like I don’t want to have cheese,” Booster starts, sniffing at his takeout box suspiciously. “A burger was the first thing I tried when I landed here. One bite and I was sick for days.” Booster pouts at him and rubs his stomach. “Days, Ted.”

Ted grimaces and pats his shoulder sympathetically. “There’s probably some digestive enzyme that you can take if you ever want to experience the finer foods in life.”

Booster fake gags. “That is literally the least appetizing thing I have ever heard.” He pats his takeout box. “No, I’ll just stick with.. whatever this is.” He tucks the takeout box under his arm, and then his eyes light up. “Oh yeah! I saw a sign for a park on the way here. Can we eat there?”

Ted eyes his croque monsieur longingly, and then makes the mistake of looking at Booster’s face; the one that’s giving him the most ridiculous puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen. That’s going to be a problem. Ted’s chest squeezes and he lets out a sigh.

“Sure,” he relents, gesturing for Booster to move in front of him. “Lead the way, Marty.”

“How do you get Marty from Booster?”

Ten minutes of explaining why Back to the Future is the second greatest time travel movie of all time later, and with a promise to show Booster the first greatest time travel movie at the soonest possible convenience, they hit the gate entrance to the park, and Ted almost runs into Booster as he halts mid-step.

Later, Ted wishes he had snapped a picture of this moment– the one where Booster’s whole face lights up in a sort of childlike wonder, mouth parting in a silent gasp.

“Wowzer.”

Ted drags his eyes away from Booster’s face to gaze out over the park. It’s nothing special. Sure, it’s big, but it’s mostly just grass. Grass, and some scattered trees. Someone is flying a kite above them, a bright yellow dragon that makes Ted smile. A vendor is set up a ways down the path, selling crêpes filled with that looks like every dessert food imaginable. A warm breeze ruffles the tips of his hair and Ted tilts his head back to feel the sun on his face.

It’s nice here– peaceful and calm, a welcome contrast to their hectic day job. Ted glances back towards Booster, only to find him missing. He blinks and spins around.

Ah, there. He lets Booster’s shiny mop of blonde hair act like a homing beacon and jogs over to the closest tree. Ted leans against the trunk, arms cross over his chest as he looks down at his traveling companion; the one currently kneeling in the grass and running his fingers through the neatly trimmed vegetation with a ridiculous smile on his face. Ted slumps down at the base of the tree and digs in his tote bag for his sandwich.

“It everything you ever dreamed of?” Ted teases.

Booster grins at him, then stands up and gestures around him wildly with a dramatic spin. “It’s so green!”

Ted takes a bite of his croque monsieur and tries not to audibly moan at how good it is. He glances up at Booster with a bemused purse of his lips.

“That’s generally what happens when you have a lot of plants in one area,” he responds dryly.

Booster spins back towards him, opens his mouth to tell him something ridiculous, Ted’s sure– like there’s no plants in the future, Ted! Or in the 2400s plants are sentient and have taken control of the Earth– and then his eyes dart to the tree trunk behind him and he gasps with delight instead. Ted leans to his right as Booster presses his face inches away from the worn bark, taking another bite of his sandwich as he watches Booster with blatant curiosity.

“Okay, I know you’ve seen a tree before.”

Those big blue eyes pop up from where they had been studying the bark with rapt fascination. Booster glances back to the tree, back to Ted, and then rubs at the back of his head with a shameless shrug and a lopsided smile.

“Not the tree– ants!” Booster says as he flops next to Ted so close that their thighs brush together. Ted has a theory that ideas of personal space must be a bit lax in the future, because Booster seems to always find an excuse to put a hand on his back or lean into his shoulder. Or maybe he's just an affectionate guy, Ted thinks. What's surprising is how Ted doesn't actually mind. If anything, it just adds to Booster’s charm.

Ted passes Booster his take-out and takes another bite of his lunch. For some absurd, inexplicable reason, he finds himself waiting to see what will wowzer Booster next. His reactions are just so.. genuine.

It’s refreshing, Ted reasons, to hang out with someone so unabashedly sincere.

Booster thumbs open the container after a moment of fiddling and Ted watches his eyes go wide for the hundredth time in the last hour. Ted tries not to feel like too much of a voyeur as he eats another mouthful of sandwich and eyes Booster expectantly.

It’s not everyday he gets to see someone get bewildered by a box full of mushy vegetables.

The plastic spork dips into the neatly arranged pattern of multicolored vegetables, and then hesitantly enters Booster’s mouth. Ted waits as he appears to be processing, and then–

“Mm! It’s good!”

Ted grins as Booster tucks into his meal with the same fervor he used to see children at his elementary school employ, barely taking time to swallow as he scoops up mouthful after mouthful. He passingly wonders if that’s how everyone eats in the future; if everyone’s too busy with their augmented reality headsets and jetpacks to take the time to properly enjoy food.

Though, Ted muses, given what Booster’s told me about future food, maybe they just try to get it over with as quickly as possible.

Booster catches him staring and blinks. “What?”

He has little freckles on his nose, Ted observes, and then he blinks and feels his face grow hot. What the hell.

“Nothing.” He shoves his sandwich back into his mouth. Okay, Theodore– that’s enough creepily staring at people you’re trying to befriend. He sees Booster frown in his peripheral vision, scratching at the side of his neck before taking another sporkful of ratatouille, slower this time. Ted scrambles for a distraction.

“So, anything else missing in the future that you want to cross off your bucket list?” Ted asks a little too quickly, fingers tapping against the back of his sandwich wrapper.

Booster side-eyes him and takes another bite of his food. He swallows. “Bucket list?”

Ted swallows his mouthful. “Uh,” he hesitates. “Like, a list of things you want to see?” He knocks his knuckles on the tree trunk behind him. “Stuff you couldn’t get back home.”

He sees Booster’s eyes light up in that look he gets when he understands some 21st century reference, and then he lolls his head back against the tree.

“Yeah, a few things.” Booster looks at him with a thoughtful hum. “I don’t know if I should tell you, though.” He waves his hand with a haughty motion. “Important, timeline-affecting knowledge and all that.”

Ted raises an eyebrow. “What,” he deadpans, “like how the future doesn’t have trees? Or insects? Or meat products, or about World War Three, or–”

Booster laughs and knocks his knee against Ted’s. “Okay, okay. You’ve made your point.” He shoulders shrug in a nonchalant way. “I’m not great at keeping secrets. Michelle always said–”

He cuts himself off with a frown. Ted watches him stuff another bite into his mouth, curiosity piqued.

“.. Michelle?”

Booster swallows and hunches over ever-so-slightly. “Uh, my sister.” He sounds.. resigned. “Twin, actually.”

Ted blinks. “Oh.”

He can tell he hit a sore spot, because the dimples on Booster’s face are less pronounced, fading more by the second. Ted gently nudges his shoulder.

“.. what did she used to say?”

Booster’s still staring at the toes of his sneakers. He glances at Ted’s sandwich for a minute with a faraway look, and then quirks his lips.

“She always said that I had a malferma vizaĝo,” he says with a fond lilt to his voice. He rolls the r in a way that makes Ted stare at the pronounced bob of his adam’s apple. Booster rubs his chin and glances at him. “Uh, like a- an honest face.” He grins with that same helpless little shrug from before. “I can’t hide anything.”

Ted laughs. Like that wasn’t already readily apparent. He pokes Booster in the arm. “You’re what we cavemen call an open book.”

Booster purses his lips again and then his whole face lights up as he sets his empty container down and wipes at the back of his mouth. “Uh huh,” he agrees, and then points at him accusingly. “You’re supposed to be a superhero, so you can’t use this weakness of mine against me. It would be, like..” he taps his lips with a finger “.. immoral.”

Ted holds his hands up defensively. “I’ll try to resist prying you for information, even if I could learn the formula for interstellar travel in a round of twenty questions.”

Booster tilts his head up and puts a hand on his chest. “Thank you.”

The conversation fades to a comfortable lull as Ted finishes up his sandwich. He finds his gaze drifting towards Booster again, wondering what mundane thing he’ll find new and exciting next. Maybe I should take him to the zoo, Ted muses. That would probably blow his mind.

He finishes his sandwich and crumples up the tinfoil wrapper, opens up his tote to toss it inside when he remembers the small object resting innocently at the bottom. Ted scoops it up, stomach churning nervously all of a sudden. Maybe he shouldn’t give it to him. Is it weird? But then he remembers Booster’s face and the way his eyes had lit up, and the absurdly endearing way he’d carefully straightened the pile and–

“Oh, hey– here.” He hands Booster the paperback before he can second guess himself. “I, uh, got this for you.”

Booster’s eyes do that thing again, get that awed, enraptured look as he carefully accepts the worn-looking book. It’s pages are curled on the corners, there’s some scribbles on the sides like someone’s kid got overzealous with the markers, and even some illegible note scribbled on the inside cover, but when Ted had seen it on the shelf he knew that he had to get it.

Long fingers turn the book around to reveal the cover. “Dune?” Booster asks, thumb brushing along its spine like it’s something more than just a two euro used novel. Ted scratches at the back of his neck, face feeling hot for some reason.

“Yeah, just something I read when I was a kid. I was obsessed with it.” Booster thumbs through the pages, thumb dragging down the corner of the worn paper with an exceedingly gentle touch. Ted clears his throat. “Thought it was about time you learned some proper culture,” he tries to joke, voice unsteady.

Booster looks up at him from under his long blonde eyelashes, eyes flickering between his own like he’s searching for something, and then he swallows, clutching the book to his chest protectively.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, tone serious and intense. His hand reaches out to squeeze Ted’s arm. Ted fights down the sudden hysteric sensation in his chest, briefly wondering how this moment became so deep.

Ted can’t seem to look away, gaze trapped in Booster’s own. “It was only, like, three dollars,” he says helplessly.

Booster sighs wistfully, eyes lingering over the cityscape in the distance. “In the future I could sell this and be a millionaire.” He tilts his head and taps his chin with a finger. “It’s like– Van Gogh with his paintings. No one appreciated them while he was making them, but as time passed they became more valuable, you know?” Ted watches as he scratches at the back of his neck and laughs under his breath. “Not that these are the same, but–” he shrugs and smiles at Ted, warm and open in a way that makes his dimples particularly pronounced. “It means a lot to a guy like me.”

Ted stares for a minute, uncomfortable with the way his chest has started to twinge every time he sees those stupid perfect dimples. Okay, Teddy. Reel it back in.

“Well,” he starts, tossing his sandwich wrapper in the air and catching it with a feigned nonchalance, “I’m only giving it to you because your pop culture references are embarrassingly outdated.”

Booster scoffs. “They are not.” He pokes Ted in the arm. “I was a history major in college, thank you very much.” He puts his hand over his chest. “I know things.”

Ted tosses the wrapper at him and snickers when it hits him smack in the forehead. “Name one musician that’s popular in this decade.”

Booster tosses the wrapper back at him and Ted dodges forward to let it sail over his head. “Um, Elvis,” he says with an air of superiority. “Duh.”

“That was, like, thirty years ago, dude,” Ted groans. “Oh my god, I can’t be seen hanging around a guy who listens to Elvis.” He pushes himself to his feet with an overly-dramatic flourish and grabs his tote.

“Wha–!” Booster grabs his arm and squeezes, something panicked in his voice. “Wait, you’re leaving?”

Ted reaches for his takeout box and tosses it into his tote so he can throw it away later. He’s about to draw out the act for longer, storm off in a huff, but something about the way Booster’s looking at him with such an open, vulnerable expression makes him roll his eyes instead, place his hand in the middle of Booster’s back, and lightly shove him in the direction of the exit.

“We’re leaving. You have to update your tune collection, my man, and lucky for you I got Stevie’s new album a brand new Denon DCD back in the Bug.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down. “It has a super linear converter, a four times over digital filter, and–” he pauses for dramatic effect “– a remote control.”

He waits for Booster to look impressed. Booster raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. “Oh yeah, you people and your CDs. How..” he waves his hand vaguely and purses his lips “.. quaint.”

“Quaint!” Ted says incredulously. “That thing cost me eight hundred bucks, pal. There’s nothing quaint about it.”

Booster just laughs and pries his hand from Ted’s arm to gesture for him to lead the way. Ted swings the tote over his shoulder and glances at Booster out of the corner of his eye as he rubs his opposite arm with his palm. He looks relieved, Ted realises.

Ted’s struck, suddenly, by how utterly alone Booster is in this time. He’s heard tale of some kind of marketing team, and there’s the rest of the League, but other than that? Does he have any friends here? Ted wonders, chewing on his bottom lip as he swings the metal gate open and lets Booster through first. From what Ted can tell, Booster spends most of his time just hanging around the League HQ waiting to be sent on a mission.

Not, Ted concedes as he stops and waits for Booster to be done inspecting a newspaper kiosk, that I’m much different. Ever since his scheming, jerk of a dad had taken Kord industries out from underneath him, it’s been nothing but R&D for him and his Bug. He doesn’t talk to his old colleagues anymore, except for Murray, and Murray’s as much of an isolated workaholic as he is.

Booster could be a good friend, he realises, watching the curve of Booster’s spine as he bends over to pet some old lady’s poodle with that megawatt smile. He likes Booster. The others at HQ might find his enthusiasm off-putting or fake, but if Ted learned anything from this outing, it’s that that’s just how Booster is; constantly giving 110% in all aspects of life, even if under all the skin-tight gold outfit he’s just a regular guy like him. A regular guy from four hundred and fifty or so years in the future, granted, but still essentially powerless unless unrelenting charm is a super human quality.

Which, Ted acknowledges with a wry grin as the old woman practically swoons as Booster compliments her dog, might actually be the case.

Ted shifts forward against the fence. “Ready to go?”

Booster’s head snaps up at him at the same time as the poodle. Ted snorts and pushes off the fence to head down the sidewalk, waiting for Booster to catch up before crossing the street back to HQ. Booster tugs the book out from under his arm and starts to read the description on the back, mouth moving silently with every word. He bumps Booster’s shoulder with his own to get his attention. He feels nervous, all of a sudden, like, somehow, deciding that he should actively try to befriend Booster has made it five times as difficult.

“Uh, I can show you that movie after, if you want.”

“Hmm?” Booster glances up from the book. “Oh! The first best time-travel movie.” He grins at him. “Star Trek, right? You said earlier.” He taps his nose smugly. “I do know that one, actually.”

“Even I knew that Star Trek would make it all the way to the 25th century,” Ted says. “It’s a classic.”

Booster laughs and carefully tucks the book back under his arm. “Uh huh. It’s in all the history pads. I read about it in my Terran history class.”

Ted blinks and pauses in his step. “Wait– you’ve seen it, right? The show?”

Booster raises an eyebrow at him. “Ted, I’m from the 25th century. Why would I watch Star Trek when I could just order some Slyggian food from the place down the street?”

Ted groans. “Oh my god, we have our work cut out for us. No Star Trek, no Stevie Wonder– I bet you haven’t even seen Alien.”

“J’onn’s room is like, two floors up.”

Ted stares at him for a moment before grabbing his arm and physically tugging him towards the hangar bay. “That’s it, we’re not moving from in front of the TV until you’ve been properly indoctrinated into this time period.” He tugs open the door and pushes Booster through. “Hope you like popcorn, bud.”

“What’s that?”

“Ohhhhh my god.”

Maybe not so difficult.

#boostle #booster gold #ted kord #idk this got away from me a bit but its just them bein cute i guess #young sons.. back in JLI era..#the first best time travel movie is #of course #star trek IV: the voyage home #i'll fight u on this #writin

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textmeexo · 7 years ago

Text

Wrong Number Series Part 19

AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! YOU GUYS DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH I’VE WORKED ON THIS OMG!!!!! OKOK FIRST, I would like to give a huuuge thanks to my friend Ambar and also Bambi for proof reading because of my impeccable grammar wow you guys are dah best in the west!!!!

I really hope you guys enjoy this story!!! Word of advice IF YOU HAVEN’T READ WNS SINCE THE BEGINNING THEN I SUGGEST YOU START THERE! ALSO DON’T SKIP AHEAD!!! I reference part 16 and this is a continuation from where story 3 left off! Thank you guys for sticking with me for a whole year and for those that are new I hope we can have many great times together! HAPPY ANNIVERSARY AND HAPPY READING!!! ^^^^^^^^^^

Word Count: 6442

Scenario: A member (to be revealed) texts you thinking it another member - Suggested

I found myself reluctantly warming up the stew I cooked last night. There was so much left over, I decided I’d give some to the bothersome stranger and save myself a couple bucks. It didn't come out as appetizing as it could have seeing that I cooked it while I was rather distracted but he should be grateful I'm taking him anything at all. I hope he likes it, I quickly shake the intrusive thought away as I continued stirring. Why would I think that? I couldn’t care less if he likes it or not. Though admittedly, I couldn’t help but hope that my stew helps speed up his recovery. Focused on the stew, I picture what his reaction would be like. Knowing him, he’ll probably text me afterwards complaining that it was “too simple” or “not prepared properly”. Despite that negative thought, a smile densely crept onto my face. Quickly catching myself, I placed my cold hands on my cheeks and gave a harsh tap. I have to get ahold of myself if I’m going to be making a personal delivery to this guy. Don’t be like this. This is no time to act foolish, I scolded myself. With a renewed disposition, I poured the stew in a clean container and headed out.

Upon arriving at the pharmacy, I quickly realized I had no clue which medicine to buy for him. Should I ask him or just buy whichever? If I get the wrong medicine, he’ll probably make me come back for a different kind, I wouldn't put that past him. Well, better safe than sorry. I whipped out my phone after debating and asked him his preference.

Whatever works for headaches and fatigue. And something for fevers too please!

Headache, fatigue, and fever. He must be having a hard time on his own, not that I care. He doesn't sound picky but I grabbed two different medications just in case. As I’m walking to the snack aisle, my phone suddenly vibrates in my pocket.

What about food?

If I tell him I'm bringing my homemade stew he might get the wrong idea. Or he'll complain. Either way, I'd rather just let him find the stew on his counter without having to talk to him about it. I wonder if he'll reimburse me for all this, it's only fair. I should bring it up.

Of course, I'll leave the money on the kitchen counter.

Did I just…? I cannot believe I just asked a sick person to pay me back. The slight guilt is settling in when another text comes in.

When you arrive just give the people at the front gate your name, they'll let you through.

Doesn’t he live in a dorm? What kind of dorms have a front gate?

We just say that so people won't go looking for our house. Anyway, I'll leave the front door unlocked so just come in and the kitchen will be through the second door on your left. Leave everything on the counter and leave.

Sounds simple enough. I should probably buy something to defend myself with in case the worst happens. I find a case of pepper spray and place it in my basket along with the medicine and some chocolate I added for myself. Then a thought suddenly hit me. If I don't see him, how is he going to explain to me how he knows my name?

I'll text it to you obviously. Unless you changed your mind and want to stay and chat with me? 😏

Oh, duh. I’m not thinking straight; it must be nerves. I just want to get this over with as soon as possible and go home.

I'm going to sleep so don't be noisy and text me when you leave. And don't touch anything!

Ugh, how annoying. How does he manage to be rude to someone that’s doing him such a big favor? I can't believe this jerk actually got me to go through with this. At least now I don't feel so bad about bringing him my half-assed stew. Rolling my eyes, I put my phone in my pocket and headed to the checkout register.

I typed in the address he sent me as I settled in my car. It doesn’t seem to be too far away from here. I followed the GPS directions and before I knew it, I was in a neighborhood I could only dream to live in. No way, is this thing broken? I thought to myself and rechecked the address. I typed it in correctly. Why is it taking me to this neighborhood? The houses just kept getting nicer and bigger the more I drove and I started feeling somewhat embarrassed driving my car through here, not that it’s a bad car but compared to these houses I feel as if I’m driving a trash can with wheels. Perhaps he gave me the wrong address. I kept driving until I arrived to the last house on the block.

"Destination, arrived." The monotonous GPS voice stated.

Is this the right house? Though I could hardly even see the house due to the tall stone wall blocking it, I caught a preview through the entrance gate and it was stunning.

"Hello, Miss. Are you lost?" A guard asked, walking up to my stopped car.

"Oh, hello! I think I might be, I'm looking for this address." I said showing him the text the stranger sent me with his address.

"This is it, but nobody's allowed in without permission. I’m sorry you traveled all the way here.” He informed seriously. “Please drive back safely.” He started to walk away as I searched for my next words.

"Wait!" I shouted. The guard turned back, a slightly irritated look on his face. "Um, you see, I have to get in there. It’s important!"

"I really hate sasaengs." I’m sure I heard him mumble under his breath. "Why don't you be a good fan and let these boys rest!” He exclaimed back at me. Fan? So that means… he wasn't lying, this guy is actually an idol.

“W-well I was ordered to bring food and medicine by someone who lives here. My names Y/n." I explained, hoping the stranger actually gave the guard my name.

“Oh!” He seemed to suddenly recall something. “Yes, I was told you were coming! I apologize!” He deeply bowed before hurrying to his station and opening the wide gates. “Please leave your car by the tree on your right, Miss!” He smiled widely, his sudden shift in character took me by surprise.

“O-okay, right, thank you!" I spoke from my window and drove through the open gates. It seems like he has to deal with unwelcome people coming here often, it must be taxing.

I parked my car in front of the large tree, as instructed, and shut off the engine. How could someone so ill-mannered live in such a beautiful house? Do all idols get homes like this? Is this why he’s so full of himself? I promptly put those thoughts on the back-burner and concentrated on getting this over with as quickly as possible. Taking a second to mentally prepare myself, I closed my eyes and took a calming breath then gathered everything I bought and headed towards the entrance.

Standing in front of the door, I took the pepper spray out of the plastic bag before cautiously turning the door knob. The front door was unlocked, as promised, and opened with ease. As I walked in, I couldn’t help but tighten my grip on the spray before my jaw dropped at the sight in front of me. Everything looked so…expensive. It’s no wonder he told me not to touch anything. I was afraid even breathing would ruin its beauty. For such a large house, it was rather warm and comforting yet highly intimidating.

Looking around, I could tell there wasn’t a single soul in sight. I wonder where he is right now? I scanned the entrance once more. There was a door followed by a dark hallway to my right, a grand staircase straight ahead and two more doors on my left. My eyes locked on the second door and I’m immediately reminded of my mission. That must be the kitchen. There’s nowhere to put my shoes…do I just walk in like this? Quickly shutting the door behind me, I took gentle steps toward the kitchen, afraid of leaving shoe stains on the shiny floor. Last thing I need is him complaining about me dirtying up his perfect home.

I opened the kitchen door and marveled in it’s magnificence as I set the plastic bag filled with medicine and my homemade stew on the counter. This kitchen looks as though it’s never been touched. The fridge is nearly empty besides a couple of energy drinks. I took the stew out of the bag and stored it in the empty fridge then continued examining the kitchen. Oh, he actually left me money. There, on the opposite side of the counter, was a wad of cash. Is he trying to show off? I picked it up, rolling my eyes. There’s no way over-the-counter medicine would cost this much. It would be wrong to take so much money and for such a simple task, I think as I set it back down next to his medicine. How could someone with this much money not have his fridge stocked with food? I sighed, feeling frustrated for some odd reason. Whatever the reason, I did my part, the rest is not my problem. I walked out of the kitchen, quietly shutting the door behind me and began carefully walking back towards the entrance when suddenly, *CRASH*!

I jumped at the thundering sound of something breaking. Standing there, as the sound bounced off the walls throughout the large entrance, I shakingly took the pepper spray out of my pocket expecting someone to emerge from the dark hallway but… no one came. That’s odd. The stranger had said he was home alone. Could he have dropped something? Oh no, what if he fainted again?! What do I do? I instinctively took a step toward the direction of the sound but quickly stopped myself. I don’t know what I could be walking into. If I check, I could possibly be risking my life... however, if I leave... I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something bad actually happened to him. Damn it.

Heart pounding, I cautiously made my way down the dark hallway where the sound seemed to originate from; the only light coming from the slightly ajar door at the end. Taking the lightest steps, I cautiously peeked inside.

There was nothing but an empty bed with blankets piled on top. I gently pushed the door open a tad more and immediately spotted the source of the sound. What looked like a once-luxurious glass vase was now shattered into multiple pieces on the bedroom floor. But more importantly, kneeling right next to it was the back of a slim, dark-haired man in sweats and a t-shirt. That must be him. I stood in the doorway and watched as he repeatedly tried to pick himself up, falling lower and lower with each failed attempt. Even from my distance, I could clearly see that his ears were red and sweat was beading down his long neck. He finally gave up - or more so his body gave out - and just sat there, holding himself up with both hands. I watched his back unsteadily rise up and down as he gradually caught his breath.

My heart ached for reasons beyond my knowledge and I couldn’t stand and watch any longer. My legs moved before my mind could catch up and before I realized it, I was standing right behind him.

“Um, are you okay?” I asked. Obviously, he wasn’t but those were the first words that I managed to say amidst my panic. He kept his head down without responding. “Sorry for barging in here like this. I was just about to leave but heard something break and got kinda worried.” He didn’t move. Maybe he felt too weak to say anything?

“Listen, I can’t just leave you here like this, it goes against my morals.” I said jokingly, feeling anxious considering he wasn’t reacting at all. I extended my hand toward his face, regrettably hidden by his hair. “Let me help you to your bed at least, before I go.” I waited for a couple seconds with my hand extended when he suddenly spoke.

“Don’t go…” He mumbled toward the ground, at least, that’s what I think he said.

“Huh?” I replied, dumbfounded. Did I hear him correctly? He spoke so softly I could hardly make out what he said but…what else could he have said?

He suddenly raised his hand and I immediately reached to take hold of it only to have him weakly push it aside. Slowly, he stood himself up on wobbly legs and made his way to the bed. He swayed as he walked and I instinctively wanted to reach out and steady him but resisted the urge and watched from close behind. Even though he didn’t stand up straight, I could tell he was tall. But why was he looking away from me? It’s almost as if he was intentionally hiding his face. He landed on the bed face down with a grunt and weakly pulled the pile of blankets over his body.

I stood there awkwardly, with nothing to do but stare at him with worry. Can I really go home after seeing him like this? He said his members won't be home all day, can he manage all by himself? I shouldn't even be here, he has no choice but to manage alone.

“Um, excuse me…” I called out to him but he still doesn’t reply. “I left your medicine on the kitchen counter and put the food in the refrigerator.” I paused. He was facing the opposite direction yet I could still hear his faint breathing getting steadily slower in the quiet house. Did he fall asleep already? “I’ll just get going then… good luck!”

I awkwardly tiptoed my way out and softly closed his bedroom door. I stood in the pitch black hallway for a minute, gathering my crowded thoughts. Is it really okay to leave like this? I recalled watching how much he struggled just to stand up and my heart ached again. He was sweating so much and his ears looked as though steam would come out of them at any second, yet he covered himself with so many blankets. His fever might spike, if it hasn’t already. I don’t think medicine alone will help him. On top of that, what did he really say before standing up? I thought I heard him tell me not to go but… that doesn’t make any sense. There were so many thoughts running through my mind, I was starting to feel a headache coming.

Why am I doing this? I sharply asked myself as my feet led me back into the kitchen. I searched around and found a random rag; taking it to the sink, I soaked then wrung it out. Hurrying back to his room, I gently pushed the door open. He’s still in the same position, breathing steadier and deeper than before. Tiptoeing over to him, I could see sweat continuing to run down his neck. He has most of his face buried in his pillow, how am I supposed to get this cloth on his forehead? I tapped his broad shoulder hoping to wake him up but he seemed to be out cold so I opted for gently placing it on the nape of his neck instead.

His body was absolutely buried under blankets. No wonder his fever’s so high. Idiot. Would it be inappropriate for me to remove some? In the state he’s in, he won't even notice if I do. He’ll thank me for it later; I began to rid him of all but one blanket, before folding the rest and placing them at the foot of the bed. Okay, I’ve done enough, I told myself feeling foolish for caring so much to begin with. I took one last look at his sleeping figure and smiled in satisfaction knowing that my small improvements will aid in his recovery.

I finally leave the bedroom and make my way back to the entrance. Why did I go through all that trouble for him? Did I suddenly develop a soft spot for the sick or something? I don't know what came over me just now, maybe it was a spell cast by the broken vase. I laughed in ridicule at myself. I wonder how he managed to knock it over. He must have tried to get up or something and somehow broke it on his own way down. I don’t think he’ll be able to clean it up anytime soon in his condition. He might actually hurt himself if it's just left on the floor. After somehow convincing myself, I’m - once again - in his kitchen. There must be something in here to put the broken glass in.

“Ah-hah!” I resounded when I spotted the plastic bag from the convenience store, this is perfect. I quickly dumped all the stuff I bought onto the counter and rushed back to his room. I peeked and found him still sound asleep then snuck in and quietly, began to pick up the shattered glass. The vase looked like it was worth more than my car, what a pity it’s now reduced to pieces.

Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming sense of deja vu. My dream! My hands stopped moving as I remembered the recurring dream I've had for the past two nights. The dark hallway, the broken vase, the stranger. It was all too similar. Was that some sort of prophetic dream? No, that’s silly, this was probably just a freaky coincidence… right? It had to be. A strong urge to see the stranger’s face suddenly came over me. I looked back at his sleeping figure and could no longer help but wonder what I had been refusing to let myself even think all this time. Who is he? He wasn't lying about being an idol, I know that now. I don’t normally care much for celebrities but… one peek wouldn't hurt, right? This may be my only chance to confirm his identity and finally be able to put a face to the mystery messenger.

I cautiously stood up and made my way to his bedside. How do I do this discreetly? Slightly leaned forward, I tried to distinguish his ears and part of his cheek since that was the only part of his face not buried in his pillow. Who could this be? There is no way for me to know from just this. Feeling frustrated, I hovered forward a little more and accidentally bumped the bed with my knee. Ouch!

“Mmm?” He moaned into the pillow and began to shuffle.

Shit shit shit! I tried to straighten myself up but to my dismay, my clumsy feet betrayed me and sent me slipping into my doom.

“Agh!” I yelped as I landed on top of him. “Oh God! I’m so sorry! I-I slipped!” I quickly apologized, lifting myself, utterly mortified. I felt an intense stare on me and looked up. He looked confused but more than that he looked perfectly familiar. As soon as my eyes reached his, my body completely froze. What the hell?!!! Am I seeing right? Wait. What the hell?! This is… no, it can’t possibly be. This doesn’t feel real, it’s almost as if I’m staring at a picture. I can’t move. I must have slipped and knocked myself out and now I’m dreaming, right? No, this is definitely real. At least blink, goddammit! I fought with myself for who knows how long before he finally spoke.

“Surprised?” He smirked weakly. I continued to stare at him as my brain gradually registered who I was looking at, unable to will myself to look away.

“You’re heavy” He croaked. This is impossible. How could he be the one behind those texts?

“Why…?” I finally managed to breath out in the midst of my confusion.

“I don’t know, maybe because you eat? Really, get off me, I'm too weak.” He groaned. I finally managed to rip my gaze from his face and looked down. My arms must have given out considering I was, once again, laying on his torso.

“S-sorry!” I stuttered finally standing myself up on shaky legs. “I’m just- it’s because- you…” I couldn’t get my thoughts together enough to form a proper sentence.

“You’re more surprised than I imagined you’d be.” He chuckled as he feebly lifted himself into a sitting position, removing the damp cloth from his forehead. “Still, it’s entertaining.”

This…this jerk! I thought I felt a connection with him the day we met at the fan meet but he’s been laughing at me this whole time. I texted him all about how I felt that day. It was all entertainment to him. I feel so stupid! I wanted to get angry and run away but my legs wouldn’t listen to me. All I could do was stand there like an idiot while he watched in amusement. I suddenly felt something wet run down my cheek but I couldn’t even bother wiping it away.

Sehun’s eyes suddenly grew wide and he immediately jumped out of bed.

“Wait. No, no, no, please don’t cry!” He begged apologetically, standing up in front of me not knowing what to do. “I was just joking! I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.” It looked like he was about to wipe away my tears when startlingly, his knees buckled and he lands on the side of the bed. Seeing him look as though he was about to faint snapped me out of my self-pity.

“You… shouldn’t stand up so quickly in your condition.” I muttered looking away and wiping at my involuntary tears, feeling embarrassed that I cried in front of him. “Lay down. Since you made me bring it all the way here, make sure you take the medicine.” I went on, trying to control my spiraling thoughts. After all this, why am I still helping him? Is it because he’s Oh Sehun? Or because he’s the stranger who’s kept me company these past few days? “You look a little less feverish than earlier but take them anyway.” I continued, detached. “And eat, I brought you stew so that should help.”

“Um, thank you…” He replied shyly, I could feel him staring at me but I couldn't bring myself to look back. “I didn’t expect you to do this much. Uh, I’m really grateful…I owe you one.” I glanced up at his words and saw him try to smile the same cocky smile from a couple days ago, the same smile from my dream, but the strength it took was apparent on his face and he closed his eyes instead.

I watched him as he furrowed his eyebrows and raised the damp cloth back on his forehead. He looked noticeably paler than he did at the fan signing. Just looking at his face felt surreal. Most girls would kill to be in my position; heck, I would've killed to be in my position. Yet, I wanted nothing more than to leave.

“Don’t worry about it…” I responded feeling undesirably flustered as I fidgeted with the bottom of my shirt. Then, taking a deep breath for the sake of my nerves, I continued, “Anyway, the stuff you asked for is in the kitchen so I’ll just get going now.” I hastily turned around and walked toward the door, desperate to leave.

“Don’t go!” He suddenly called out. I stopped in my tracks. Why would he say that? Does he want me to stay and continue making a fool of myself? Or… does he sincerely want me to stay? At once, a part of my dream came to light, the reason I had been running. Everything else in that dream happened already, all I have left to do is run. Run away from this place. Run away from him. My legs began to move again when I heard a heavy thud. I turned around and found him on his knees again, this time looking up at me.

“I fell.” He stated with a weak smile looking slightly embarrassed. Did he just try to come after me? Why? I ran over to him and helped him sit back on his bed.

“I told you not to get up too quickly!” I scolded.

“Well, why did you keep walking?” He asked. Is he pouting?

“What?” I responded, thrown aback by his sudden question.

“I asked you not to go but you kept walking.” He said, annoyed. “I was going to run after you but that didn’t go as planned, obviously.”

“Why would you run after me?” I asked, unable to understand. It doesn’t make any sense, why does nothing make sense with this guy?

“I told you, I… don’t want you to go.” Sehun answered, honestly.

I still couldn’t completely comprehend why he wouldn’t want me to leave yet my face began to flush and I felt the need to run away clawing at me. Perhaps I’m just a coward but situations like this have always completely unnerved me. However, for the first time in my life, my desire to stay greatly overpowered my impulse to run. I took a deep, centering breath and began walking toward the door.

“H-Hey, wait!” Sehun yelled after me, upset.

“I’ll be right back.” I called back and could feel his confused eyes follow me as I walked out of his room.

Making my way to the kitchen, I tried not think too much and instead hurriedly opened several cupboards until I found one filled with cups. I filled a cup with water then grabbed the strongest of the two medications I bought before heading back to Sehun's room. This time, stopping in front of his bedroom door instead of barging in like the first two times, I knocked before I heard his voice ring out.

“Oh, now you knock!” Sehun complained from the other side of the door. “Come in!” He chimed, chuckling as I opened the door and awkwardly let myself in.

“Sorry for barging in your room so much.” I apologized, slightly embarrassed by my continuous poor manners.

“At least you knocked this time.” He said still chuckling sweetly, causing my face to grow hot.

“Um, I brought your medicine since you can’t seem to get out of bed without falling over.” I said trying to distract him and myself from my flushed face. As I was about to set it down on his bedside table, he reached out and took the glass and medicine from my hands. His fingertips grazed my hand and I gasped at their warmth.

“You’re so hot!” I blurted.

“Pfft, no need for flattery.” He said, cockily flipping his short bangs to the side. Not having time to feel annoyed, my hand automatically found it’s way to his forehead making his eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re burning up!” I exclaimed. How high is this guys fever?! I looked at him and realized his cheeks were flushed and he was sweating again. He stared at me with wide eyes as I took the now warm rag from him and speedily made my way to the kitchen to put some cool moisture back into it. I happened to find another cloth and quickly returned with both in hand.

“There’s a bathroom with a working sink right there, ya know?” He cleverly pointed out as I walked back into the room.

“Oh, that’s convenient.” I murmured, more worried about getting these cool cloths on him than the distance I was walking. “Here, put this one on your forehead and this one on your neck.” I said handing him the damp cloths.

“Okay, thanks.” He naturally obeyed.

“Here.” I took the medicine jar from his hand and handed him a single pill. “It says on the label to take one every 4-6 hours so you should set an alarm to remind you. I think every 4 hours would be better, since you might die if you wait.”

“Don’t sugar coat it, I’m dying today, aren’t I?” He said feigning anguish.

“You should’ve died yesterday. Consider it a miracle if you see another day.” I jested.

“Ah, I’ll be sure to give thanks tonight then.” He replied, gratefully clasping his hands together before we both couldn’t hold back our grins anymore and let out our giggles. I didn’t realize what I had been doing until now. I’m helping him again. Why am I joking around with him so calmly? I wasn’t even supposed to meet him today, I should've been home by now watching T.V. or staring at my ceiling. My thoughts continued as I watched him raise the pill to his lips.

“Wait, shouldn't I eat something before taking this?” He paused, looking at me waiting for an answer.

“Oh… w-when was your last meal?” I asked dumbfounded after being snapped out of my thoughts.

“Hmm… yesterday? Yeah, I haven't left my room since Suho left yesterday so maybe around… 8 am?” He recalled slowly. It’s 2 pm right now! So he hasn’t eaten in 30 hours?!

“You were right, you probably wouldn't have survived if I didn’t bring you food and meds.” I admitted matter-of-factly, trying to hide my genuine shock.

“Told you.” he spoke triumphantly. I glowered my eyes at him and walked toward the door.

“Wait, where are you going now?” I heard him call out displeased, but I ignored his words and kept walking.

The stew I brought from home was chilled by now after being in the fridge so I grabbed a clean pot, turned on the stove, and began warming some of it up. His kitchen was so spacious, I could only imagine how amazing it’d be to cook in, I wish I could do that everyday. Wait what? Why would I think such an absurd thing? I’ve really let my guard down since I discovered who the stranger was. Now that I have a moment to stop and think, my mind became clustered again.

I feel like I’m in a dream. How did Oh Sehun end up texting me out of all people? And why would he continue to text me the way he did? I never pinned him as the sadistic type. Everything is starting to make sense now. He must have accidentally texted me thinking it was Junmyeon’s number. And I actually did make him miss practice that day so I understand why he was so mad at me. EXO’s schedule is vigrous from what I’ve heard then adding an extra 3 hours of practice to his already unfair schedule and during a comeback no less. Of course he got so sick, he overworked himself. It all really is my fault. I had no right to think so badly of him. The guilt was so overwhelming tears started forming in my eyes. The stew boiled as if mimicking my feelings and I quickly shut off the stove. There’s no way I can make this up to him, I wouldn’t blame him if he resents me for what I put him through.

I knocked on Sehun’s door but heard no answer. Pushing the slightly open door, I walked in with a bowl of hot stew in my hands. He was still in a sitting position but his head now hung to the side. He fell asleep again. How could someone fall asleep in that position? He looks so peaceful, I thought to myself as I placed the stew on his bedside table. Not sure whether to let him rest or wake him up, I just stood there examining him. His breathing is steadier and his cold sweats seem to have stopped. The damp cloth was slowly sliding off his forehead and I reached out and caught it just in time.

“Mm?” Sehun opened his eyes sleepily and took in his surroundings. He noticed me hovering in front of him with the cloth in-between my hand and his face, then smirked.

“W-what are you looking at?!” I stuttered defensively as I let the rag drop and stumbled away from him. I felt my face growing hot again, damn it. Why does he keep making me blush?

“Me?! You’re the one who looked like you were about to sneak a kiss or something.” He sassed, obviously enjoying himself.

“Y-you wish!” I exclaimed, my face now burning. Did I really look like that? Or is he trying to embarrass me on purpose? He smiled satisfied and picked up the rag that fell in his lap, placing it back on his forehead.

“Shut up and eat!” I ordered embarrassed, pointing towards the bowl beside him.

“What’s this?” He said, examining it with a doubtful eye.

“Oh, it’s stew…” I answered, not wanting to mention that it’s my homemade stew.

“Stew? Where’d you get it?” He asked, swirling the spoon around and checking it ingredients. It’s hard to read his expression right now.

“Um, well actually I…made it…” I admitted hesitantly. A look of surprise and maybe even confusion filled his face.

“You made this? For me?” He asked puzzled, pointing to himself.

“Pfft, you wish!” I replied slightly amused by his reaction. “I made too much last night and thought I’d get rid of some.” I affirmed.

“Oh.” He muttered, seemingly disappointed. “Well, thanks for your selfless consideration.” He retorted. Slowly, he raised the spoon to his lips and took a mouthful. I thought I saw his eyes momentarily widen before he started downing the stew. Before I knew it, he was wiping the side of his lips with his hand and setting the cleared bowl to the side. He must have been so hungry.

“Did you… like it?” I accidentally asked aloud. Why am I worried about whether he liked it or not?

“It was decent.” He approved. I didn’t know anyone else was going to eat it when I made it last night so I didn’t try my best. I wanted to explain that to him but, I really shouldn’t care so much. Shaking away my thoughts, I grabbed the empty bowl.

“Care for seconds?” I offered kindly.

“Please, I’m starving.” He accepted, patting his belly as if to show there’s room for more. After yet another trip to the kitchen, I quickly returned with a full bowl and handed it to Sehun. He ate it almost as quickly as the last.

“Ah, that hit the spot.” He proclaimed, satisfied.

“I’m glad you liked it!” I said, grinning uncontrollably. His unexpected reaction sends butterflies down my stomach.

“Who said I liked it?” He teased.

“You didn’t have to say it.” I replied pointing at a food spot on his face.

“Well, I guess it wasn’t bad.” He refused to admit he liked it as he wiped his mouth. How stubborn.

“Sure, sure.” I said rolling my eyes, taking the bowl from him. “There’s plenty more in the fridge for later.”

“Thanks, I’ll let you know when I’m hungry again.” He smiled brightly. Did he expect me to stay longer? I couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

“Okay, well time for your medicine!” I quickly changed the subject before my red cheeks gave me away and handed him the glass of water and a pill.

“Thanks.” Sehun said before swallowing the pill and gulping down the water. Exhaling in relief, he closed his eyes and leans his head against the headboard. “Finally.” he sighed. I watched him and guilt filled my heart.

“Sorry…” I barely managed to whisper through the knot in my throat.

“Huh?” He opened his eyes and looked at me attentively. I stared back into his eyes and the sincere warmth in them pushed me over the edge and tears began to fall. “W-what? Why are you crying again?!” Sehun looked at me with worry and confusion.

I tried my hardest to hold back the tears and pull myself together but the guilt was eating at me. I thought his threatening to ruin my peaceful life with that SNS post was such a horrible thing to do, but now I can see that it was all a bluff. He wouldn’t do something so cruel. All he really wanted was to get a little payback. I was the only one causing real harm here. He’s being so lenient about it as if his whole week hasn’t been hell because of me. As if I’m not the reason he can’t even get out of bed right now. Why isn’t he being a jerk like I thought he was? Why doesn’t he kick me out of his house or put me in my place? He shouldn’t want to see my face after everything I’ve said and caused. My thoughts ate away at each other as Sehun watched me.

“Y/n, tell me what’s wrong?” He finally asked and the sound of my name coming so delicately from his lips sent more unexpected butterflies to my stomach. My mind suddenly went blank and all I could think about was the electricity radiating from him. Should I be allowed to feel this? How can there be this… connection from two people who supposedly hate each other? He suddenly reached out to me but I automatically evaded his touch. He drew back his hand and looked up at me, the expression on his face was unclear. We stared at each other for a while, my mind filled with remorse, his eyes flooded with concern. I thought I would melt if I looked at him any longer.

“Um, I should go.” I finally spoke, breaking eye contact and wiping my loose tears away.

“Y/n, is everything okay?” Sehun continued to carefully observe me.

“I have to go.” I said, suddenly feeling my impulse growing stronger, making me want to run as far from Sehun as possible. I need to get out of here, I told myself.

“Wait, Y/n!” Sehun hollered as I turned and mindlessly walked to the door. “Don’t go, please!” He called out to me and I heard his bed shuffle. Not looking back, I picked up the pace and ran out to the hallway, through the front door and to my car. Why am I running? I thought to myself as my phone started vibrating in my pocket.

TAAAAH-DAAAAAAH!!!!! MYSTERY MAN OFFICIALLY REVEEEEEALED!!! :DDDDDD I hope those of you who guessed someone else aren’t too disappointed! :PPPPP I really hope you guys enjoyed reading this series, it’s been my absolute favorite thing to do on this blog 100000%!!!! Let me know what you guys thought and if you want me to continue it or leave it like it is!!!!!! :DDDDDDDDDDDDDD To be honest though I’m probably going to continue it LOL!!!! AAGGGGHHH!!!! OK BYE THANK YOU FOR READIIIING!!! ^^^^^^^^^^ - Eomma^^

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cebeavers · 14 years ago

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Quassy & Lake Compounce 2010

September 4, 2010 Quassy Photos | Lake Compounce Photos

I slept better Saturday nite than I had on Friday. Not sure about Matt, I was having allergy/sinus issues, so I snored pretty badly. On Sunday morning we got up and headed out, leaving our room at La Quinta behind. Our first stop of the day was Dunkin Doughnuts for breakfast. What is up with New England? They don’t keep chocolate cream filled doughnuts all year round, they’re only seasonal. Whatever.

>Breakfast was still good, though, even if I settled for Bavarian cream. Matt learned not to call the cashier a Yankee, even if she tried to take his $10. Then it was thru the back roads of Connecticut and off to Quassy. We arrived at the park after 11am and families were already pouring in. My first thought was that it reminded me of a nicer Camden park. Walking around, though, it reminded me more of a smaller Beech Bend.

We walked over by the Mad Mouse but decided to walk around so I could take some pictures first. The park was very nice, and we walked all around snapping pictures. I was going to ride the kiddie credit, but ended up skipping it. One thing I liked was that they had a ticket machine back by the carousel, so we got 2 tickets and headed back towards the coaster. This will be its last year here, so it was our chance to check a rare ride out.

Mad Mouse-I wish Matt and I could have rode it separately, but oh well. The car was uncomfortable, but the ride was fun. The first drop after the mouse section was a ton of fun, and going around the tight turns was rather scary (the ride shakes). I honestly was hoping the car wouldn’t derail because of our weight. Overall, though, it would have been a great ride if I’d been in a car by myself.

We walked around and did some more photos before heading out. Quassy is a nice park, and I really hope they have a hit with their new wooden coaster for next year. Matt keeps calling it the Quassy Comet, and I think that’s a great name. Hopefully they’ll put a nice light package on it as well. And maybe next year I’ll get back up there to try it out. We got some construction photos as we were leaving.

Next up on the trip was a stop by (World Famous) Ted’s Restaurant, a hamburger joint (one of many) that steams the burger. I was excited to try it. We met up with Kyle & Jenna for lunch (they treated us, thanks again folks!). The burger was very good, and we had a nice lunch and a chance to sit and talk for a while.

Lake Compounce wasn’t very far away. Joe & Steph had called Matt and said they’d meet us there for some Boulder Dash rides. I was excited because the park looked great in pictures. Little did I know I’d have a chance to see ESPN while I was there! And we saw some odd looking tall building where they test elevators. Double score (and Foursquare now has a check in by me at ESPN to boot!).

We got to the park and it looked packed. Once we got in, though, the crowds were fairly dispersed throughout the park. I had packed my swimming trunks yet again, but it was just too cool to go to the water park. We walked around the park and headed straight to the reason both of us were there, a new credit for me, and one of Matt’s favorite coasters…

Boulder Dash-The line was about a 30 minute wait, and I must stop here and say that this line had people line hopping each time I was in it. I was kind of caught off guard each time (I didn’t think it would actually happen as much as it did) or I would have stopped it. Anywho, I loved that the lift went thru the trees up the hill. We rode in the back and there is some great airtime on that first drop. Then the next hill. Then the next hill, too! The turn around near the sky ride was filled with laterals, and then it’s just all out airtime madness on each hill as you hop and jump back to the station. Boulder Dash was a lot of fun, and I’m glad I finally got a shot at it. Matt said it was running at about an 8/10, so that’s good enough for me!

We headed to the sky ride next, which afforded me the opportunity to get some decent shots of the park and especially Boulder Dash. The sky ride was pretty awesome (best thrill in the park!) I got some pictures in between my hyperventilation (I’m so afraid of heights). It reminded me of the tram at Pipestem State Park in WV.

We headed down to the train afterwards and rode back over to the main section of the park, hitting up some pizza and taking a break from walking. Next Matt took me over to Wildcat for a ride.

Wildcat-It has a decent layout, and some nice hills, but it needs some work. If it ran as well as Boulder Dash, it would be a nice classic wooden coaster. My biggest issue was that I hit my knee on a metal box in the train going up a hill. Still, the first drop is fun, the turns were forceful, and there is definitely airtime to be had. It wasn’t the worst thing ever, but it wasn’t that great either.

We walked over to Zoomerang but the line was too long. We walked around to a few different spots for picture taking and eventually headed up to Boulder Dash’s entrance to wait for Joe and Steph. We ended up waiting for about 40 minutes before heading out to other parts of the park. In fact, we may have checked out the Zoomerang line after waiting. I do know we ended up riding the Rotor. I hadn’t been on one of those in years! It was tons of fun, with the floor dropping out and everything. I hate that Kings Dominion got rid of their Time Shaft, it was really great.

We headed back to Boulder Dash’s entrance, but no Steph or Joe, so we got in line. Eventually, once we were close, we saw them in line and they waited for us after the ride. Boulder Dash was even better than the first ride, which was nice.

I needed to get my Zoomerang credit, so we headed over to that line (after I stopped for some Birthday Cake Dip N Dots). Steph and Joe waited for us as Matt and I got a front seat ride.

Zoomerang-My 2nd new Boomerang in as many days. It’s a Boomerang. The drops are great, the inversions a little more intense than I like, and I come off all disoriented. That’s about it. Oh, but this one has pretty trains.

We headed up to the park’s S&S swings, Thunder And Lightning, where we waited for a quick ride. I love those rides, even if they’re ugly. They’re a lot of fun. After we rode we headed over to Downtime, the park’s S&S drop tower. This one seemed to hold you at the top longer. I was nervous, but I’m still getting a little better at these types of rides. As we were in line, some weird guy who kept riding over and over gave someone in line with a kid some grief over the Red Sox shirt the guy in line was wearing. Drama ensued and a manager had to come over. The creepy guy on the ride wasn’t all there mentally, I don’t think, and Matt said he’s always at the park.

So we headed back to Boulder Dash for a mostly dark ride. That first drop was still insane and the airtime coming back was great. Joe and Steph had an interesting on ride photo as well. We hurried around to the front of the queue to ride again, but they had just closed it. Oh well…

I wanted to ride the dark ride, but the line was always really long. Lake Compounce has a great selection of rides, and I wish I lived closer (or at least that the park was closer to me). The gang took a spin on the Wave Swinger while I sat out. I wish I had known that they had one of the bouncing tower rides that Beech Bend has, but it was too late to ride it at this point.

We headed out and talked to some other enthusiasts Matt and Joe knew. The park is really very pretty at nite, esp. in the front where it’s all lit up. And I love the tunnel lights going into the park. We headed to the truck and met up with Joe and Steph at a nearby BK where I proclaimed myself King. Matt still has the crown, too. The drive to Jersey was long, but we went thru NYC and I went over the GW Bridge. Sadly, it was not lit up like it usually is (Do they turn the lights off late at nite? We went over it around 11pm).

We arrived at the Crowne Plaza near Six Flags Great Adventure a little after midnight. Thankfully there was a sofa bed for me, as the room only had a king sized bed. I slept like a baby. Which was bad for poor Matt, since I’m sure I snored like crazy.

#Quassy #Lake Compounce #Middlebury #Bristol #Conneticut #2010

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