#when a guy with half his body and face bitten off was perfect fine with a scar and an eye patch | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skrltwtch · 4 years ago

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Graveyard Shift

Prompt: I know the sign says, "No shoes, no shirt, no service", but I just had the WEIRDEST night and your shop is the only building with lights on this early, and I'm really, really hoping you have some spare clothes behind the counter. Help? (Source in master list)

Word count: 4,255 words

Genre: Fluff, romance, smut, supernatural

Warnings: Smut

References: 1 Inglourious Basterds

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Graveyard shift is the fucking best — and the fucking worst.

For one, the shop is able to achieve that fine balance between having enough customers to justify its opening hours and keep me on its payroll, and having enough customers to not make me regret my choice of employment while I attempt to sort out my life. The silence that falls over the shop at two o’clock — without fail every night, like the general public know they have better places to be at two o’clock than a corner shop — grants it the perfect atmosphere for self-introspection and self-improvement. Have I learnt anything useful? Let’s … not talk about that.

Now, what’s the downside to this job, you ask? The customers, of course. There are fewer of them in the dead of the night, but God, the ones that do come in … Being situated on one of London’s busiest corners means a colourful clientele at all times of the day. Drunkards and yobs make up a sizeable number of the demographic that contribute to the shop’s cash drawer while I’m on duty. It’s both sickening and fascinating to deal with them. In my nine months of working here, I’ve seen it all — or I thought I have, until my attention is drawn to the naked man at the door.

It’s less than half an hour after sunrise. He doesn’t look like he’s knocked back a drink too many. (Can coffee make me see things I’m not supposed to be seeing at this hour?) He looks to be of sound mind, his franticness to be let inside aside. He’s handsome: his brown waves, wiry physique, and elegant features lend him a startling resemblance to an ancient Greek sculpture. Strangely, there is an abundance of scars all over his body, and not in a manner that’d signal self-harm. They look more consistent with animal scratches. I’m speaking from experience here: I have a cat, though it’s nigh impossible a cat did this to him.

Nonetheless, this ranks in the lower half of the top ten weirdest shit I’ve seen while on the clock.

‘Hello? Hello!’ That ought to be what he’s saying; I don’t proclaim myself to be an expert at lip reading. It’s encouraging that he’s aware of the sign preventing his entry and doesn’t think he’s above it, at least.

I shake my head at him. Rules are rules, mate. They apply even to hot, naked men.

‘Come on! Please?’ — I think.

‘Sorry!’ I shout, and I point at the camera above me. Colin, my manager, is a cool bloke. It’s about as likely that I’d lose my job for letting Mr Naked and Afraid grace the inside of the shop with his presence and providing him with service as it is that Mr Naked and Afraid is on something that isn’t obvious to my innocent eyes. Why tempt fate? There are other corner shops with less draconian policies down the street. I turn away and continue looking at my phone to spare us both our blushes. It is nippy outside …

Fuck it.

I motion for him to come in. I can explain this to Colin, should he decide to review this morning’s security footage on a whim. He’s a Cool Bloke™.

‘Thank you,’ says Mr Naked and Afraid. Fuck, the shop lighting is doing him more favours than he needs. ‘You won’t get in any trouble for this?’

‘Nah. I might get chewed out1 for this, but that’ll be the worst of it.’

‘Sorry. But thank you. Thank you. I’m George.’

Good. Mr Naked and Afraid is becoming a mouthful.

‘I’m Eva. How can I help, George?’

‘Do you have any spare clothes?’

‘It’s just me here, mate.’

‘I know. Can’t hurt to ask.’

Can I say, ‘You have balls’? Is that appropriate at a time like this? I exhale audibly. ‘Give me a second.’ I retreat into the staffroom behind the counter. Colin deserves a better staffroom than a lad hangout. I’ll clean up when there isn’t a naked man waiting on me outside — or not. I’m not their helper. I sort through the coat rack for something suitable. Andrew is the closest to George in stature, I think. Operating on that approximation, I grab Andrew’s jacket and trousers. I don’t want to have to think too hard about what my co-workers look like underneath their clothes. Besides, Andrew’s clothes have been here for ages. He won’t miss them.

‘Try these,’ I say.

‘Thank you. I’ll clean and return them, I promise.’ He reaches over the counter for the clothes.

‘Not so fast. Give me the craziest reason you’re butt naked, and if I like it, you get the clothes.’

‘Really?’

‘I have to tell my manager something. Might as well be something weird so I don’t get chewed out too hard.’

‘Fine.’ He puts his hands on his hips and looks around the shop — in search of inspiration, perhaps. I’d love to hear what he comes up with. He looks like someone with a good sense of humour. If we’d met elsewhere, I’d have thought about asking for his number and then chickening out at the last minute, because women like me don’t get anywhere with men like him. I keep a lookout on the entrance for any customers or co-workers, mostly because I don’t want to share this moment with anyone else.

‘Clock’s ticking, George.’

‘You didn’t say there’s a time limit.’

‘I’m not the one with my arse out in public.’

‘Alright. I’m a werewolf. I must’ve messed something up, because I got out of my flat last night and woke up in Trafalgar Square. I live in Hampstead. See these scars? It’s all me.’

I stare at him. He’s staring back at me, expecting a response. He looks serious. I — I can’t. I burst out laughing. Of all the things I thought I’d hear, that isn’t one of them.

‘That’s one I haven’t heard before. I love it.’

‘Yeah? Can I then —’

‘Not before you answer one more question, wolf boy.’ I mean that nickname with utmost sincerity.

‘Seriously …?’ Red blotches his cheeks. ‘Okay, okay.’

‘Were you born a werewolf or were you bitten?’

‘How is that relevant?’

‘Humour me.’

He rakes his hair with his fingers, and holds his inhalation and blink long enough for it to mean ‘I should’ve gone to the next corner shop’. Little does he know that his exasperation is making him look more attractive. I’ll treasure this moment forever. ‘Born. You don’t see any bite marks, do you?’

‘Touché. Here.’ I pass him the clothes.

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

‘No, thank you for the laugh,’ I say, looking away from him as he tries Andrew’s trousers on for size. Andrew’s fashion sense is being wasted on us corner shop plebeians. ‘I love horror and supernatural shit. That was perfect.’

‘Cool.’ For fuck’s sake, he can also pull off the loud, brash prints Andrew favours? This is unfair. ‘I’ll pop these in the washer when I get home, and I’ll return them to you …’

‘I’m working tonight. I’ll be here at ten.’ Technically, I start work at midnight. Andrew’s scheduled for the evening shift today, and I’d love to see his face when George returns with his clothes. I can’t remember how long these specific items have been in the staffroom. Plus, like, ten o’clock is an acceptable time to meet someone who lives in Hampstead and probably has standard working hours, isn’t it? ‘If that’s not too late for you.’

‘That’s fine. Thanks again, Eva.’ He’s said the T word so many times, it’s starting to sound weird to my ears. Semantic satiation — that’s what the phenomenon is called. I learnt this from the 3,722nd post I read on Reddit some nights ago.

‘You’re welcome, wolf boy. See you tonight.’

He grins. ‘See you.’

Just as he turns to leave, I swear, I swear on my copy of The Killing Joke with a frayed spine because I put it in the same bag as my water tumbler with a loose cap, I see a flash of fangs.

✦✧✦✧

‘You’re here early,’ says Andrew.

‘It’s midnight somewhere in the world.’ I don’t join him behind the counter. I’m scheduled to start work at midnight, and that is exactly what I’ll do. Overtime means nothing to me. (I say that like it’s applicable in this instance.) ‘Did a guy come in to look for me?’

‘Nope. Hey, do you know what happened to my trousers and jacket? First one’s floral; second one’s mustard.’ Doesn’t it just sound like a ghastly combination? Andrew can pull it off. So can George — both items at the same time. I’ve only seen Andrew in one or the other.

‘Funny story, that.’

‘Share.’

‘Okay, picture this: It’s fuck o’clock in the wee hours of the morning. Sun’s coming up. I’m on my second tumbler of coffee and running out of things to keep myself entertained. Suddenly, a naked bloke is asking to be let in; he’s begging. He doesn’t look drunk or high. I let him in because I’m a bleeding heart at heart. He asks me for spare clothes. Thank God you treat this place like your second closet. I ask him to hit me with the craziest reason he’s naked to help me decide if I should help him. He says he’s a werewolf.’ I am fighting to hold in my laughter. ‘And he says it with the straightest face you can imagine.’

‘Eva, this bloke was hot, wasn’t he?’

‘Yes, but —’

‘You’d have given him the clothes no matter what he said.’

‘I didn’t tell you this story for you to call me out like that.’

‘You’re welcome. Does Colin know you breached one of the shop’s sacred creeds?’

‘Does he have to know?’

‘No comment. It’s not my arse on the line.’

‘Colin won’t do me dirty like that. I did a good deed.’

‘… No comment. Am I going to get my stuff back?’

‘That’s why I’m here.’

‘Bollocks, I thought it’s because you like my company.’

‘Why not both?’

The bell above the door jangles, cutting our conversation short. It’s none other than the man of the hour himself. Never have I been this ecstatic to see someone enter the shop. He has no business filling out his grey shirt as well as he is.

‘George! Hi!’ I drown out Andrew’s snicker. Can’t I be excited about speaking with an attractive, charming man who isn’t drunk or in need of goods and services a corner shop can provide in the shop at this time of night? I might also never see him again after this, so as far as I’m concerned, I deserve every second of this.

‘Hello, Eva,’ says George. ‘Got the clothes cleaned like I said I would.’ He shows me the paper bag in his hand. McDonald’s. I can hear Andrew’s heart giving out. ‘Thank you again.’

I take the bag from him and place it on the counter, the golden arches staring Andrew in the face. ‘You’re welcome. You should thank him, too.’ I jerk my thumb at my near-apoplectic co-worker. ‘This is Andrew. The clothes are his.’

‘Thank you,’ George says to the other man, who responds with a tight-lipped nod, still in the midst of computing what he did in a past life to deserve having his clothes returned to him in a McDonald’s paper bag. ‘I followed the instructions on the labels as best I could. If I ruined something, I’d be happy to pay you back for it.’

‘Thanks, mate.’ Andrew takes the clothes out of the bag and gives them a quick once-over. ‘Looks good. You can have the bag back.’ He pushes it toward George with his finger.

‘Okay …’ George takes the bag, flattens and folds it into a neat square, and holds it under his arm. ‘Eva, I can’t — I can’t thank you enough for this morning. Last night was … weird.’ He swallowed.

‘Yeah, sure …’ I wink at him. ‘… wolf boy.’

‘Are you working now?’

‘No, but I will be in’ — I consult my watch — ‘an hour and a half’s time. I came in early because I know I don’t have the same concept of day and night as most people.’

‘Graveyard shift: fun as shit’ is Andrew’s sterling contribution to this part of the conversation. I like that, actually.

‘You didn’t have to — I’m more of a night owl,’ says George. Is that because he has a closer affinity to the night because of what he is? I convince myself it is. ‘Do you want to go get some coffee nearby? It’s the least I can do. I hope I didn’t get you in trouble.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ I say. I should talk to Colin about this soon. ‘Sure, I’d love some coffee. Be a dear and watch the shop for me, will you, Andrew?’

✦✧✦✧

George leads me into his flat. Our bellies are full from dinner. I love and hate eating with him sometimes. I love his company, obviously; I hate that he can put away so much without any of it showing on him. Earlier, he had pork chops, lamb meatball stew, and a fudge brownie with ice cream. I get that he needs all that protein to maintain his figure, and I’d love and support him all the same if he were, but he’s not an Olympics athlete like Michael Phelps. Nonetheless, all that food’s imbued him with oodles of energy, the kind that’s seen us seek to end the night on a more gratifying note at someone’s place. (Mine’s out of the question tonight because my flatmate’s working toward the same goal with her latest squeeze.)

The farthest we make it before the urge to eat each other’s faces overpowers us is the sofa. I’m on top of him, just showering him with gentle kisses on his lips, and sometimes his cheeks and nose. I’m content with savouring his taste for now. His breathing is heavy. He’s warm to the touch. His kisses are more insistent. I yield to his desperate, almost plaintive moans and allow our tongues the pleasure of getting to know each other better. His hand is feverishly fondling my thigh and hip; the latter has developed a mind of its own, grinding up against him. Deciding our mouths couldn’t have all the fun, I move on to his neck, which he kindly bares for me. His throat is thrumming with — growls?

I look up at him and say, ‘Do you hear that?’

‘Hm?’ His eyelids flutter open. I gasp.

Staring back at me are yellow eyes, brilliant and wild.

Oh, my God.

‘George — your —’

‘Why?’ He puts his hand to his mouth. ‘Shit.’ I get off him. I see the fangs I thought I saw the first time we met. ‘What’s today’s date?’

‘It’s the eighth.’

‘Fuck!’ The force with which he cursed propels him out of his seat. ‘You have to go. I’m sorry,’ he says, taking off his shirt. His chest sheens with sweat. ‘I forgot.’

I don’t need to ask him what it is he forgot: I know the answer on a primeval level. I know I should leave. I stand transfixed by what’s happening before me. His flesh twists and ripples. The growls get louder. The proportions of the hand on his chest — hairier than I’ve ever known it to be — are all wrong. Poking — pushing out from underneath his fingernails are claws. He turns away from me. The sight of protruding knobs of bone under the skin along his spine causes chills to run down mine. My poor George. My poor wolf boy.

‘I’ll go,’ I say, as much as I want to stay with him. ‘Will you be okay?’ I shake my head. Stupid question. He’s in agony.

‘I’ll be fine.’ There is greater conviction in the violent gurgle that follows than his words. ‘Now go. Please.’ His back arches and expands with muscle. He cries out in pain.

I do as he says. I hear the locks rattle and turn behind me. Though his strained growls and yips are horrible to hear, I stick around outside his door. I don’t know why. I don’t know why I don’t quite feel afraid either of what I saw in there or of what I now know. Instead, I feel … I press my legs together and bite my lip. Not the time. After what feels like an eternity of guttural noises that have no right coming from a human throat, a howl, long, almost melodious, pierces the air. It’s almost … reassuring. So much about him makes sense now.

I take my phone from my bag, and I send him the following: ’Text me when you see this. Love you.’

✦✧✦✧

I shift on my feet as I wait for George to answer the door. I’m worried about him. Does he not want to see me anymore after last night? No, it’s an insult to the both of us for me to think that he thinks I’d be narrow-minded enough to stop wanting to be with him because of what he is. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. The food I brought for him is getting cold. Can he smell it from inside his flat? I press the doorbell again. I wish he had a neighbour to tell me what I can do in times like this.

The door opens. He looks a mess: he’s in boxers, and his hair is sticking out every which way. His eyes go wide. The memory of his yellow eyes resurfaces. I feel a little weak in my knees.

‘Good morning, love. I came to see if everything is okay,’ I say, ‘and I brought breakfast.’ I show him the paper bag. The food inside still smells good.

‘I thought —’ He doesn’t need to complete his sentence for me to know what he means. It’s written plainly in the furrow of his brow, the sadness in his eyes. Damn it. I didn’t want to be proven right about that.

‘Of course not. You didn’t see my message?’

‘I haven’t checked my messages. Sorry.’

‘Oh.’

‘Please, come in. Are you off work today?’

I nod.

His flat, too, is in disarray. It looks just as if an animal went wild in here. Pillows and books are all over the floor; some of the former have been ripped apart. Sunlight shines through the gaping holes in the curtains. Nothing’s broken, at least. George’s head hangs low. ‘I haven’t had the time to clean up … nor was I expecting visitors. I called in sick to work and went back to sleep. I forget what happens when I don’t take my meds before I transform.’

‘Let me guess — the last time that happened was a year ago?’

‘Yeah, probably. I don’t know. That was — that was different. I guess I was too excited about our date that I forgot what yesterday was.’

I walk him to the sofa, and we sit down. The food is left to sit out on the coffee table. ‘It’s okay,’ I say, stroking his arm lovingly. ‘I wasn’t … I’m not freaked out or anything. I love horror and supernatural shit after all.’ I chuckle nervously, more so because I hate my tendency to resort to awful humour in an attempt to defuse tense situations. ‘So, um … I owe you an apology for laughing at you when you first told me.’

‘Don’t. I could’ve said something else. I didn’t. I wanted the clothes fast, and after the night I’d had, that was the most out-there thing I could think of in a snap.’

‘Yeah, then I made it into a thing between us! I call you “wolf boy”! You never asked me to stop! And I told everyone how we met! Everyone knows you’re a werewolf!’ I gasp. So. Many. Exclamation. Marks.

‘This is our thing. Only you know for certain. I feel like I can breathe now.’

I lay my head on his chest. ‘You don’t have to be afraid. You don’t have to hide.’

‘That first sentence sounds like something I’m supposed to say.’

‘So, George … about last night … was that because you were about to — or …’

His words come out almost in a snarl: ‘I wanted you. I want you.’ His lips are centimetres away from my neck. His breath is hot on my skin.

‘Are we like … mates now, then?’ I giggle as I draw an indiscriminate shape on his chest with my finger. I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time last night reading up on wolf behaviour. The thought of what lies in store for me is a little exhilarating, an observation I had a mild developmental crisis over when I felt that first pang of passion from applying what I read to our relationship.

‘Yes.’

He licks my neck. My core tingles with excitement at the ramifications of his declaration — for the record, I meant it as a light-hearted question — and at what’s about to come next, based on my research. Then he pushes me down onto my back, and I see his eyes, still blue, flicker with the same intensity as last night. He hikes up my dress and gets straight to nuzzling my mound. He laps his tongue over my underwear and inner thighs, the strokes long, soft. I hum impatiently. My underwear is getting soaked. He slides it off my pelvis, and he promptly buries his face in my folds. Fingers come into the picture soon after. I writhe in his grasp, desiring release.

And Lord, does it come.

I don’t get to wait for my legs to stop quivering, as he rises from between them and says, ‘On all fours, love’, his voice a lusty rasp. I scramble to my hands and knees. He’s never asked for this before. I’m liking this greater sense of freedom he now has around me. How much had he been holding back? I spread myself for him. He pushes his cock up against my slit. I let out a small, startled ‘Oh’ when he enters me. I feel pinpricks where his fingertips are. Each thrust is deep and brutal. It hurts a little, but it hurts so good. I press the side of my face into the couch and close my eyes. Stars crash into each other in the blackness behind my eyelids.

Though he’s the werewolf here, I’m the one whimpering and moaning like an animal, too, while he huffs and growls with each movement. The sounds encourage him. ‘Please, don’t stop, don’t stop …’ I breathe. My walls convulse around his girth and fill up with an unbearable heat and wetness. Come drips out of me and trickles down my thighs. Then his thrusts become shallower and rough, his fingertips threaten to leave bruises on my skin, and he empties himself inside me. He lets out a strangled howl; my lip almost bleeds from how hard I’m biting down.

I feel so empty, almost a little sad, when he pulls out. I settle into a lounging position on the sofa. He wedges himself behind me. I gently fondle his business, still hard. He resumes licking my neck, sometimes rubbing his face on my skin.

‘I’m sorry if that was … weird. It’s the first time I fucked like that — and the first time I fucked after the full moon.’

I turn around and kiss him. ‘You were amazing.’ His ears turn pink. ‘Am I your first girlfriend who knows?’

‘Yes. About being mates …’ He pulls me closer to him. ‘I can do something about that. If you want. No pressure. It’s a huge decision.’

I won’t lie and say I didn’t consider the idea at least once last night. The dream I had about transforming and running alongside him on all fours can attest to that. But I tell him, ‘I need to think about it first.’ I don’t want him to think I’m rushing headlong into something I have little to no knowledge about. (Tabbing back and forth between pages about wolf behaviour for at least two hours doesn’t make me an expert. I’m not even sure if it’s relevant.) I also wasn’t expecting this question to come up so soon, considering he thought I’d leave him. I sweep my thumb across his lips, then his nose. ‘Maybe if I see you in your wolf form first …’

‘Fair enough. Promise me you’ll still love me the same after you’ve seen him. He’s more fun than I am, even when hopped up on industrial-strength bear tranquiliser.’

‘It’s going to take a lot to top what I’ve seen in the last year — and the last hour.’

He chuckles. ‘I’m in trouble.’

I spend the day at his place. (What? I’m taking a mental health day, and being with my boyfriend does wonders for my mood.) We fuck several more times, unable to get enough of each other; we’re like lovesick puppies. He lets shades of his true self slip through on occasion. He assures me it’s not because of the full moon. I assure him I know. Until today, I didn’t think it’d been possible for him to become more alluring. I give him my answer to his offer before sunset, which he happily accepts. At the end of the day, I lie in my wolf boy’s arms, waxing gratitude for the graveyard shift at the corner shop a year ago.

#exophilia #terato #werewolf #monster love #monster romance #mine

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dancing-the-hellfire-rumba · 4 years ago

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I See You Clearly Now

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 0, babeyy. Complicated human relationships, maybe.

Word Count: 5.5k, once again, what the absolute fuck, who am I

Summary: An impromptu all nighter and a very domestic day with Sam who is- he’s a crush, right? Right?

A/N: This was basically me working through my emotions for a person in my life. I don’t-

Also, this was half because of an anonymous request I got the other day that wrote “please some sam winchester x reader but maybe an au with no creepy scary things” Here you go, hon. I’d argue complicated feelings are scarier than monsters, but whatever lights your candle :)

It’s four in the morning and she doesn’t particularly know when the decision was made to ignore the black night sky or the time, or how both Madison and her mutually agreed to it, but sleep is not close in the horizon. College life is exhausting, but this week was uneventful and slow, unmoving to the point of boredom. The beers in her fridge were staring angrily back at her, and her contacts seemed to anticipate her texts. Madison was the first choice, she hadn’t seen her in a while.

And where I go / Singing song of your affection / With rhymes to your perfection / Of you

I see you clearly now / I hold you dearly now / The sun is in my eyes (x)

Meeting arranged, hugs in hello and rosy cheeks, because her apartment is always warm, beers cracked open and drunk, and now Madison is on one of her white, comfortable lounge chairs, angrily ranting about Steve Rogers and Marvel. It’s that hour of the early morning when everything feels a bit gooey and intangible, stretched and fabricated, and there’s nowhere she’d rather be, content in defending a character she loves, warm, belly full of light alcohol and midnight-made crepes. Her cat moves loosely in the room, pointedly ignoring both humans, and Y/n’s cozy and happy to see the wild motions of her friend’s hands as she yells- the mild worry in the back of her head that she’ll find a note with a noise complaint taped on her door the next morning.

For all she cares, nothing could make this any better.

The night continues, laughter over Youtube videos and reality competition failures, repeated funny clips and belly-holding, more hurting of the cheeks from the laughter, more snacks, and she’s forgotten what that feels like in her never ending, break-neck-paced everyday life.

Time passes full of smiles and even more green cans of beer. Pyjamas are worn, sleeping bags are stretched on the floor over the fluffy grey rug, her cat seemingly having found a new enemy in the whipping of the sheets in the air. They laugh at her playing with them, until she settles on her little spot over her soft blanket. The girls stretch in their makeshift beds and they talk, texts are shot to other friends, also awake, selfies full of grins and-

“Sam says hello,” is all Madison has to say for Y/n to suddenly feel his absence in the room.

Sam. Of course.

“Gimme your phone.” Tipsy voice message with off-key singing sent. More happy smiles. A reply, a voice message of his own- “I’m glad you two are having fun. Where are you guys?”.

Y/n’s place, the reply is sent.

“Should I tell him to come by?” And Y/n has to hold her heart in steel hands to force it not to jump out of her chest and straight into her throat. Somehow, Sam always shows up when Madison calls, she thinks, a bitter taste in her mouth. Jealousy. Bottom lip bitten.

“Of course, if he wants to.” She hates to admit she’s excited to see him. Hates it, because she hasn’t talked to him in five months- not properly anyways- and the idea that Madison somehow is always in contact with him makes the familiar knife twist. The two had dated, sure, they’re friends now, a chemistry shared between them that’s inexplicable. It makes her wonder how two people can be so familiar with each other, how they can always be so fucking happy, bouncing off of each other, the sparks fly, people wonder why they broke up (Madison fell in love with someone else. Y/n doesn’t know how Sam reacted.)

Madison and her are friends, sure, but it seems everyone from that side of her friendships is close, but not enough to touch, so Madison never talked about it to her. Sam didn’t either. In fact Sam never even mentioned they’re dating. Sam never ever talks about his relationships. Not to her. He once told her, in that one phone call that lasted four hours until 6 in the morning, the one she can’t seem to forget, that he thinks his love life is nobody’s business. He’s vulnerable with it. Doesn’t share it ever with pretty much anyone (he’d share it with Madison, she thinks bitterly.) Sam, additionally, rarely answers her texts.

They’re in this weird limbo situation. She’d confessed her affection about a year ago, New Year’s eve and festive spirits, influenced by champagne and encouraging friends, and she’d received an “I wondered about us too, but I’m honestly in a weird place, unsure. I really enjoy your company, though, I think you’re really cool and I am very happy with how we are now. Friends.” No dice. She took it in stride. She’s fine with it. No really, she is. Over it.

Then Madison hooked up with him. That one hurt.

They’d talked about it- with Madison that is- because they’re friends, Madison had also been jealous -before Y/n’s confession, when Sam seemed sorta into her and things were going well- and had urged her to go for it. Y/n had shared the sentiment (“If you two end up doing anything, I’m fine with it, it’s really none of my business. You’ve been his friend for longer than I have.”) and she had really meant it. But then Sam didn’t want her, and he ran off in the sunset with Madison for a grand total of three months, and rotten feelings were there in every other step Y/n took.

Now though, she’s fine. Sam has a different pace than her, she knows it now, has come to terms with it. He’s such a gentle, loving creature, so caring and passionate and smart and kind, with those wonderful eyes and his soft hair and the scent that makes her weak in the knees. She’ll have him in her life if that means a single four hour phone call every six months and loose texts here and there- sent by her of course, because he rarely ever texts first for some infuriating reason, and she panics he’s gonna forget her. Other than that, she’s come to terms with the fact that they’ll always be distant friends, that she’ll admire him from afar and he’ll maybe think about her once a month.

He always seems so happy to see her, though. He’s so fucking difficult to decipher.

“He’s on his way.” Brought back to the present by Madison’s statement, Y/n sulks back in her seat, a small, excited smile crossing her features. She’s happy to see him. She missed him.

He’s making his way through the other side of town, though. He’ll be here in two hours just to see them, and her heart flutters.

Till then, Madison lays in her sleeping bag turns out the lights, Y/n’s cat stretches sleepily, and Y/n doesn’t fall asleep, anxious she won’t hear him ring her bell, won’t hear her phone or Madison’s at his call. She’s only slightly desperate.

Time has slipped to six in the morning. Y/n’s eyes are wide open, her head woozy from the fatigue and the alcohol, but, when the rug vibrates with the ring of Madison’s phone, she jumps. She jumps, and so does her heart, skips a beat, because he’s here and she hasn’t seen him since the summer and she just wants to hug him hello.

“Pst! Madison.” With a slap of her hand over her phone, Madison, in a lump on the floor, pulls the phone and balances it on the cut of her cheekbone, speaker over her ear, while her hand slumps back under the sleeping bag. Nelly- Y/n’s cat- blinks lazily, spooked by the sound of the phone call, but ultimately, not giving it much attention.

“Hm? Yeah. Mkay,” sleepy, mumbled words muttered into the phone. At least someone caught some shut-eye between them. “Bring some beers.” A small chuckle, a shake of her shoulders. “Oh yah.” Another laugh. “Hmph, buzzkill.”

Y/n is turning on a small light, just until the sun rises properly up the sky, because everything is currently a little dark still.

“Atta boy. We’re waiting for you.” Another short laugh. Madison hangs up turns on her back, and her phone falls off her face as she stretches, smiles, arms slumping over her chest. She doesn’t offer much information about the phone call. Not ten minutes later, the doorbell rings.

Y/n stumbles, sheets tangling on her legs, nearly tripping, to buzz him in.

He walks up the stairs, and she sees his head rise over the edge of the top step, a crooked smile on his pretty lips and she smiles back brightly. Arms raised over his head, he shows a plastic bag, clinking glass inside, and he whoops slightly. Y/n grins, throwing a victorious fist in the air.

“The feast continues!” And Sam laughs, toothy and bright as the sun. Y/n attacks him with a hug.

Warm arms stretch around her, hold her close, warm and tight, and he still smells heavenly, like he showered before he left his house. He smells like freshly cleaned clothes and vanilla scented body wash, like the seat of his car, deodorant and a deep, musky smell she can’t quite place.

My God, she’s missed him.

Madison is still on the floor of Y/n’s bedroom, mumbling her hello and burrowing a little in her sheets. Sam kneels down and hugs her, and she hugs back. “Nice to see you, dick”

“Runt,” he replies with a nod, as if he tips off his hat to her. Carefully, Sam also kneels next to Nelly, scritches under her little chin and whispers his soft greeting, to which the cat responds with a low purr and the bending of her head to give him a little more room. Sam smiles, and Y/n can feel her eyes being shaped into comically large hearts.

“M’God,” Madison groans. “I wanna stay awake but ugh.” Y/n smiles gently.

“Go back to bed. I have an appointment with my therapist in four hours though.” Madison nods numbly.

“Wake me up in three and a half, I’ll leave.” Y/n and Sam share a look and the former shrugs.

“Okay.”

Madison shifts, puts her headphones on and shuts her heavy eyelids, pretty much instantly falling asleep. Y/n is running on battery saver mode, enhanced by the incredible amount of adrenaline Sam’s presence seems to bring.

She nods for him to follow her and grabs her laptop, dumping herself on her living room couch, Sam closing the bedroom door behind himself and following her lead. He deposits most of the beers in the fridge and keeps two, which he opens. Y/n watches his ease in her kitchen, even though he’s never been here before and her heart wiggles in content.

He sits next to her on the couch, keeping a barely there distance between them, as she pushes the screen open. Despite all the feelings that have manifested in her chest over the relatively short time she’s known him, Sam and her really hit it off since day one. She met him during a surprise party thrown for Madison. Sam brought the cake, Y/n the candles and the lighter, and other friends brought alcohol, plastic plates that were never opened and cutlery.

The whole group had waited under Madison’s building, singing a very cheerful happy birthday, loudly enough for their voices to grow hoarse, and for Madison’s eyes to roll back into her skull with a sheepish smile. They had walked to a park, sat down and feasted on the cake straight from the pastry box, yet Sam was talking with Y/n on the swings a little ways to the right, away from the cheerful company, talking about fond childhood memories, about his brother, about their favourite movies. Y/n felt it, felt her heart drooping low, the familiar feeling of wanting to impress someone, to be liked by them. Even then, under whatever stars could be seen in their city, she knew he was gonna be trouble.

Beer bottle passed, and she clinks hers on his cheekily, receiving a tip of his head and a half-smile in response. Decided sips. Bottles held against bent knees as they both fold them like pretzels. Small talk about college, about recent misadventures and drunken phone calls, and soon she gets the urge to fill their time with something.

“Movie?” she asks, and Sam just seems on board.

“What do you have?”

And he ducks close to her and checks out the titles. “Do you wanna watch Hamilton? I’ve heard it’s really good.”

“YES, Sam,” enthusiastic and loud. Sam grins. They settle back on the couch.

Fifteen minutes into the play, Y/n doesn’t even hesitate, doesn’t ask and doesn’t preface by saying anything. With all the naturalism that their relationship has, all the affection she knows Sam has to give, she scooches closer to him and leans her head on his shoulder, hugs his arm to her chest, and he leans into her comfortably. “This okay?” The answer she looks for comes in the form of him leaning his head down on top of hers gently.

They watch two thirds of the play before they both get increasingly tired, since it’s a three hour performance. Their brains are kinda mushed, especially because of the lack of sleep, but they happily gush about how well made it is and Sam spews facts left and right about the price of the tickets, the actors and how the British royal family has gone to see it in-person.

“God, I wish I had the money to go up to NYC and watch it myself. I’ve never been to Broadway.” She sighs under his arm, which is now placed around her shoulders. Sam nods in agreement.

“Yeah, that must be so amazing to see in person.”

Bedroom door creaking open, Sam and Y/n separate from each other slowly as they watch Madison trudge to the living room like a phantom, a hand on her lower back.

“My God, Y/n, your floor is not hospitable at all.”

“Awh, I’m sorry.” Sam laughs next to her. “I don’t know why you didn’t move to the bed, though.” Madison glares, facepalms with a wince -the movement seems to rattle the spot that’s sore somehow- and shakes her head. “I didn’t- it- it didn’t cross my mind.”

Deep chuckles in amusement all around. Madison picks her stuff up. Y/n makes all of them some coffee, which they all quietly sip in the diminishing silence of the city waking up just outside their window.

The time for Y/n’s appointment approaches rapidly, and Madison waves goodbye, kisses both people on their cheeks and drives herself home. Y/n isn’t sure if Sam will stick around, so she checks the time awkwardly. She’d feel terrible to let him make his way back to other side of town just for these wimpy three hours wasted on tiredly catching up and watching a movie.

“Listen,” she says, and Sam’s attention is drawn from his coffee cup. “I’m gonna go to my bedroom, have my appointment, because we do it over Zoom anyway. You hang around, chill, and I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Alright,” Sam agrees gently. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

A painful, soul-straining hour later, wiping dry tear stains off her cheeks, Y/n makes her way to the living room, half forgetting Sam is even there. And boy if he’s there.

He’s stretched on her couch, legs barely fitting as he leans on the arm rest, ankles crossed, and a book he’s picked up from her bookshelf in his hands, while Nelly sleeps peacefully in his lap, finding comfort in his warmth. He hasn’t made an intense amount of progress, probably 50 or 60 pages in, but he seems invested, and for the seconds it takes him to notice her, Y/n admires him a little. Under the morning light through her thin, sheer curtains, rays are angled perfectly to make his cheekbones all the sharper, he, comfortable enough to relax in her worn-in couch. He looks so at home, and after such an emotionally draining hour, it’s so good to see someone who’s gentle, someone so familiar, waiting for her in her personal space, with her cat, as if he belongs there. It makes her heart do all sorts of stunts.

It seems he notices her from the corner of his eye though, and he puts the book down.

“Hey,” he tells her softly. “Are you good?”

“Uh,” she thinks for a second, pinches the bridge of her nose. “Yeah. I’m okay.” An offered smile, small and soft.

“Alright,” as if saying I’m choosing to believe you. “Have you read this yet?” He holds up a bright orange book, a small thing titled the Alchemist by Paolo Coelho. An offered change of subject. She smiles.

“Yeah, I have.” He folds his legs with a soft apology to Nelly who jumps off disgruntled, and Y/n takes it as a sign to sit on the couch next to him. His feet rest against her thighs, knees bent still.

“It’s so…” He sighs, struggles to find the words. “I mean, it’s not something I’d usually go for. It kind of feels childish and simple, but it’s so beautiful.” He seems slightly confused, surprised to find something he thought may be silly to be actually really good.

“I know right? It feels really simplistic, but some of the stuff it says is so eye-opening.”

“Listen to this,” he says and sits a little straighter, fixing the pillow on his back a little. “We are travelers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.”

It’s like he chose the quote specifically for her, for this particular moment. A look is thrown his way, and he smiles crookedly. “I, uhm…” he rubs the back of his neck. “I just heard you crying, is all.” A nervous shrug. Y/n feels exhausted, drained, but in that little smile, that warmth, she feels like tearing up all over again at how fucking sweet he is. She pushes at his legs and reaches out to him for a hug, which he welcomes. She sighs.

“Thank you, Sam.”

****

Eventually, they get up. They move to the kitchen and make grilled cheese sandwiches and tea, and Sam leans against her counter as he watches her take out plates from her cupboards, Nelly prancing around with distant meows for attention. Y/n picks large mugs, puts honey in hers and serves their half breakfast on the kitchen island. They eat under light conversation about dogs in social media and pets, and Sam sorta looks like he’s always been there, like this is the life they’ve always lived.

Hot mugs cupped in thick sleeve-covered hands. Bodies curling up on different ends of a couch. Comfortable conversation continues. Topic shifted to something more serious, and Sam tells her things, talks about how he’s grown mentally, how he understands himself a little better and how he wants to try therapy. She’s happy to see him like this, being -if only slightly- more open about himself, about how he is, not closing himself up, not fooling himself into believing he can shoulder the world alone. Y/n gives him her therapist’s phone number, tells him she’s proud of him and shares her own stories. She ruffles his hair and smiles affectionately, and Sam thanks her. Their mugs empty. Her heart grows fuller.

While moving back to the bedroom, Sam kneels next to Nelly. He offers her his hand, lets her sniff it, scritches the top of her soft little forehead, and Nelly pulls away, sniffing, wagging her tail in short annoyance. “Is that not okay? Alright, I’m sorry, honey,” he whispers to her gently, watches her lick his fingers for a second before settling back in her cat bed and watching him wearily. Sam gets the message and he pulls away, and Y/n’s never, ever seen anyone interact with her cat this way. Respectful and kind (and if that ain’t Sam, alright) and her heart lurches a bit. Of course Sam, practically the perfect guy, would test her cat’s boundaries as if she’s a human, and then never push them again. She sighs.

They end up on her bed. Sat next to each other. Laptop in front of her, heavy conversation discarded, set down for now, and she searches for her favourite stand-up comedians to show him, because she knows his sense of humour and he’s gonna love them, she’s sure. Yet, as she’s scrolling, Sam does the unspeakable, and slides behind her, one leg either side of her, arms going around her.

“ ‘M sorry, I needed a hug,” he tells her, and she curls her own arms over his, leaning back against him.

“Anytime,” she promises and means every syllable. “You can stay like that if you want,” she tells him as well, and feels his chin on her shoulder as he nods, a huffed out breath softly knocking on the bare skin of her neck. She sighs into him. Gets comfortable, pulls the laptop on her lap -can you see well?- and lets herself be entertained, relishing Sam’s laughter against her back. She smiles, because this finally feels good. She doesn’t yearn, doesn’t look for anything more. She’s ultimately incredibly happy with where they are, with all of this warm affection. There’s no butterflies, just comfort, just love and care and tired laughter that fills her mouth with honey. The sun is in her eyes.

Not ten minutes later he shifts, stretches his legs and pulls her more comfortably against him. With gentle fingers, he pushes two strands of hair behind her ear, to the side, touch so soft she barely feels it, repositions his chin on her shoulder and breathes out calmly and Y/n shivers. He holds her securely and she, well, she dares dream, dares feel what this would be like in a different context, and while there’s a little yearning this time, to remember what it’s like to want someone and to be wanted, to know what it’s like to be Sam’s, what it’s like to be held with utter security, knowledge that you’ll never be let go of, it’s not overpowering. She feels its presence, but it feels more like an old friend than a menace. She’s content. Finally. The opposing feelings seem to tame each other.

Something close to an hour passes. They make food, some creamy pasta just to hold them over until dinner. He stirs the pot while she shows him a funny video on her phone. They eat in comfortable silence, and Y/n feels the urge to tangle her legs with his under the table, but she doesn’t, terrified she’ll push him away, ruin this bubble of comfort and naturalism by taking things a step too far. What is too far, she wonders. She’ll let him take the lead, if that means he’ll continue being this physically close to her.

Sam washes the dishes. Y/n pecks his cheek in thanks. His smile is radiant.

They stretch next to each other on her bed, scroll through their texts, send silly pictures to mutual friends. The mistake she makes is when she grabs his phone and takes a really, and she means really, ugly picture. A zillion chins, pinched eyebrows, curved lips and tongue out, hands his phone back and contemplates the consequences.

“Gimme that back, you shouldn’t have that,” decided and regretful. Sam and his noodle, twelve feet long limbs hold the phone as far from her as possible and Y/n growls and laughs, stretches, tries to grab it off him. “Sam!”

“You really think I’m gonna pass this up?” he scoffs with a grin, and she yells his name, accusatory and playful.

“Give it BACK, my face is in there! Privacy infringement!” She yells. “You should know, you’re a lawyer!”

“But you willingly saved the picture in a phone that’s not yours!” Arms stretched high, laughter booming and loud, and she scrambles.

“Your word against mine!”

“You can be seen holding the phone yourself!” She growls again, tries to pull his arm down, tickles his side and he jerks and laughs. Y/n tries to throw a leg over his to hold him down, but Sam’s too quick, too strong. They fumble, thrash, tangled limbs, throat aching full of laughter, struggling and yelling useless threats.

Sam throws the phone on the rug and huffs, visibly almost done with her, like she’s an annoying but entertaining bug. He grips her hands, her left and right in his respectively, throws his leg over her waist, twists and straddles her, hands now over her head.

Heavy breaths. They pant, stare at each other, Sam shakes his head like a dog to get his hair out of his face.

“You can’t win,” he tells her with a confident smile. She narrows her eyes.

“Have you learned nothing from this friendship?” She blows a hair away from her face and looks at him smiling. “I don’t give up that easy,” coy smile, a promise, wink sent his way, and suddenly she’s thrusting up her pelvis, trying desperately to scooch up the bed with the rest of her body, but the grip on her wrists tightens, Sam barely budging. She struggles, drags her body up, fueled by pure determination and spite, wiggles fiercely and just barely manages to get on her belly, which seems like a mistake in hindsight.

Because now her hands are crossed, he’s basically got her on a choke hold with her own forearms, and she’s eagerly trying to get her knees under her, while Sam laughs loudly at grumbled comments like “What the fuck kinda core strength do you have, fucking behemoth.” The sheets get wrinkled and pulled off the edges of her mattress, her pillows get pushed to the side, to the floor, the struggle continues and her stomach and throat hurt from all the laughter, but she really can’t seem to get the upper hand, which would be obvious if someone so much as threw a look at both of them. Sam’s six feet and two full of young, sinewy muscle, a boy- a man, really- with biceps that may not be particularly thick, but the iron grip on her wrists says something else. His hands are the size of her face. Strength is not the way she should be going about this.

She twists again, barely able to get back on her back, and she pants. The asshole looks barely winded and her eyes narrow, him raising an eyebrow challengingly. What to do, what to do?

Y/n relaxes, but Sam doesn’t. She takes a breath, grins briefly up at his momentarily confused face, then yanks her hands up the bed, making him jerk down so he can keep her under his grip and-

And she kisses him.

Nothing long or particularly sexy, just a rough push of her mouth on his, and an ‘umph’ escapes him in surprise.

Sam startles, his grip loosens, and her hands are pulled free of his hold, kicking away from him and managing a small distance apart from his warm body, knees pulled up to her chest and panting fast and loud.

Okay, it seemed smart in that moment. It really did. But for a grand total of five eternally long seconds later, her heart shrinks, diminishes to ash and dust and regret. Sam’s kaleidoscopic eyes are wide, pupils blown, and he, too, is panting.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, is all she can think, so much for not pushing his boundaries, not rushing his pace. How will you ever look in his eyes again?

“Too much?” And he blinks at her, clearly still processing. “I’m sorry, Sam, I- I didn’t mean-”

But then a hand cups her jaw, warm and big and gentle, pulls her face close to his, and his lips are there, pressed on hers. Y/n’s motionless for just a second- she’s dreamt of this for so long, over a year and a half, and it’s happening in the cheesiest way possible- and Sam is on his knees, weight rested on his other hand, reaching for her, he’s kissing her, and move, dammit, do something! A hand grips his wrist, and she pushes herself closer to him, a huff pushed out of Sam’s nose, and her stomach flips in so many stunning, wonderful ways.

Her legs fall to the side, she meets him half-way and kisses him and Sam follows just as fiercely, falls back on his haunches. His hands push under her shoulders, lift her up onto his lap, grab the back of her knees and pull them around his hips and Y/n goes willingly. She holds the sides of his face carefully and parts her lips, and Sam licks into them with caution, curls his strong arms around her waist and sighs into her mouth.

Y/n pulls away. So much for boundaries.

She blinks down at him. Sam’s eyes stay closed for a second longer, peering up at her then. He waits for her to say something. Fingers push his hair back gently, she nudges her nose with his and smiles.

“I win.” Earning a long, dramatic eye roll.

“I had you in a choke hold with your own arms, Y/n.” and her name rolls off his tongue so sweetly. She clicks her tongue.

“Yet here we are,” she whispers, looks down at him and he shakes his head with a sigh. His eyes fall on her lips once more and he gently chews the inside of his cheek. One large paw cups the side of her head and he kisses her slowly once more before pulling away, thumbing at her cheek.

They smile.

****

The sun has descended beneath the horizon, so early it’s kind of comical, but it doesn’t feel like it’s 6 pm anyway, because neither of them has slept at all. Time has lost meaning and form the past two days, everything feels surreal and fake because of the lack of sleep, and now here they are, under warm fairy lights, laying in her bed. There’s been kisses here and there, gently roaming hands, not moving further than that, and again, Y/n doesn’t need anything more. She’s content where she is, surprised she even made it this far. The affection they’ve shared is scarcely fierce and feral, simply quiet, tender, innate. Nothing particularly passionate or aggressive, just warmth and comfort, shielded vulnerability hidden behind brief liplocks. Y/n’s more than okay with it.

She’s laying on his chest, arm around his waist and ear over his heart and they doze together under dim lighting, limbs heavy, hearts feathery light. Sam’s arm falls around her back, pulls her close. She nuzzles his chest.

It’s just so easy to be with him. Around him.

Y/n wonders where they stand after this. If he’ll text her more. If it’ll go back to the occasional long phone call, the random outings because Madison texts him while she’s with Y/n. Will they ever be like this again? How much does she care?

Because, although somewhat pivotal for her view on affection, and tenderness and friendship, ambit stretched now, definitions altered in her mind, she feels that no real barrier has broken, shifted even. They’re still friends. They’re not partners, he’s not her boyfriend and it’s honestly fine. No, really, it is. She’s genuinely okay.

Would she like to see what it’s like to date him? Of course she would. Of course she wants to know what it feels like to know he wants her and only her, wants to know she can hold his hand, can kiss him no matter where they are or with whom, without crossing invisible boundaries tentatively like she did today. Planning dates and late night movie nights and early morning beers with shared drunken kisses.

She just wishes she knew what it’s like to have free access to this sort of affection with someone, and maybe that’s the thing. Sam feels like a good someone to have that with, but at the same time, maybe it’s what he told her on New Year’s and the way he likes to be, maybe it’s the understanding that they’re really not particularly meant to be together, cosmically in love, soulmates, whatever-the-hell, but there’s no dipping of the stomach, no heart rate accelerating, no feeling of being high or drunk. Maybe Y/n just wants someone, anyone to be with, to know she can fall for, and while Sam is warm and funny and familiar and oh so wonderful, while he looks like a great candidate to be in a relationship with, while her heart flips at the possibility of having any semblance of romance in her life, of him in her house, her couch, with her books and his warm hugs, maybe he’d been right. Maybe he knew something too painful to tell her back then, when she confessed her attraction, back when things were raw and bruised and painful to the touch. Sam and her, well… they seem good in theory. They are fun, and safe, they care for one another. They share alcohol bottles easily, common interests, kindness and heeps of love to give. They make sense in a way. But- it’s just not clicking, is it?

This is just… this. Affection for the sake of affection, not romance. And that’s okay to have, more than okay, even. It’s great. It’s comforting. It’s safe, and it’s simple. They can kiss. They can hug. They can cuddle together, and brush each other’s hair away from their faces. Y/n can admire his eyes while he cleans the dishes they ate lunch in. And it can all amount to nothing, without it feeling like band-aids being ripped off bleeding wounds without a warning.

In the words of her mother, why are human relationships so god damn complicated? Why does this one have to be too?

Y/n is content to be in his arms, to philosophically discuss, and open up and talk freely. She’s content with them giggling and wrestling and kissing in between, and they can share their music and their book quotes and their love for one another. It’s just surface level affection. If not surface level, then friendship level. Why is that not enough? Maybe not all relationships have to be tipped in the romantic pink light, and maybe, just maybe that’s okay.

She gazes up at him, rests her chin on his chest, and Sam blinks his lazy, drowsy eyelids open to look down at her sweetly, offers a small and a caress of his hand on her back. And for once, Y/n is completely satisfied with just this, and nothing more.

*****

A/N 2: I reread this and it felt like I reached a conclusion to something gigantic and cosmic, but this seems so simple. I should know all this by now. *huff*

please tell me what you thought of this!

Forevers:

@deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @deanssweetheart23 @nostalgic-uncertainty @mogaruke @superseejay721517 @lady-hawkguy @thosefeelsarereal @superwholockmarauder @justiceiswater @petra-arkanian-1497 @heyitscam99 @danijimenezv @aj-reuth @unicornblood4ever @mystriee @sadist-fangirl23 @asguardiansoftheavengers @superrandomnatural @altosaxplayer098 @winter-moons @hunterswearingplaid @novaddictx @choosemyname @live-like-a-girl @thisismysecrethappyplace @bowtomytenderaddiction @elara98azalea @lemondropirwin @emmagolden4118 @glitchcypher @calaofnoldor @paradoxical-sleep @narynechan @canwenotdothis @suicidepanda07 @blueaura

Sam Stuff:

@kymberlytorres @theboykingsamwinchester @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes @captainmarvelcorps @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away @nellachain @percywinchester27

#sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x fem!reader #sam x fem!reader #sam x female!reader #sam winchester x female!reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural #sam fluff #spn fluff #spn sam #sam winchester #winchester fluff #sam winchester comfort #domesticity and things #basically my whole psyche in a tumblr post?#geez #i've ascended from tartarus to drop this and will be returning shortly #hope you enjoy it!

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kabira · 4 years ago

Text

01 | first period biology

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

word count — 3k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — violence, mentions of school tests

summary — vernon doesn’t entertain bad guys on monday mornings, but the villain of the day apparently didn’t seem to have gotten the memo.

note — first chapter woohoo! in celebration of comeback day, i present to you: my first actual tumblr multi-part series. send me an ask or dm if you want to be in the taglist! masterlist coming soon <3

go to fic masterlist | main masterlist

I do not have time for this.

Vernon swung through the air, landing nimbly on the road just a few feet behind the newest menace that had decided to grace his neighborhood with its presence. The self-proclaimed Rhino—basically a guy in a rhinoceros suit, as the name suggested—was tearing down 108th street at breakneck speed, which was almost as fast as Vernon mid-swing. Almost.

“Hey, slow down!” he called as he launched himself towards the suited man, and a little kid with a lollipop gaped as Spider-Man swung right towards the Rhino, legs stretched straight before him. “Tsk, how are we supposed to tango if I can’t even keep up?”

Rhino roared when Vernon dropkicked him right in the middle of his back, but the kick didn’t put him out of commission like Vernon had hoped it would. The villain (and Vernon used the term loosely) swung his fist towards him, but he flipped backwards, landing on top of a car, which dented under the force.

“Why is it always Queens?” Vernon asked, annoyed, as Rhino charged towards him. He pushed off the car to avoid Rhino, who crashed headfirst into the vehicle, sending shards of glass flying everywhere. Right next to it, a yellow Kia’s alarm went off. Vernon, now hanging from the building behind it, huffed. “And why is it always right before school?”

And a Monday, too. Vernon usually allowed for supervillains busting down his metaphorical door on mornings, but Mondays were usually off-limits. Honestly, what kind of villain gets up at seven a.m. on a Monday?

Vernon scaled the brick wall of the building, looking for a high vantage point he could drop down from, but even the little effort seemed to tire him out more than usual. Having studied until late night the day before, right after stopping a third try at a robbery on seventy-third (honestly, do these people never learn?), he had only managed to catch about three hours of sleep. It was normal by Spidey standards, but not by Vernon standards. Especially when he was supposed to have a test in first period biology.

“Spider-Man!” Rhino bellowed from three storeys below, snapping Vernon back to the present. He sighed as man demolished another car, no doubt to show off his might or strength or whatever it was villains loved to show off these days. “Face me!”

Vernon looked down. In the morning, everything was awash with sunlight, including Rhino. The suit was a dark gray but didn’t seem to be made of metal, looking about three to four inches thick like some kind of hide-like body armor, and light glinted off the visor that only half-showed his adversary’s face. If he hadn’t been about to be pummeled to death by the guy in rhinoceros suit, he would have appreciated the beautiful workmanship more. The horn was a nice touch.

“If you just wanted to see me, an email would have been fine!” Vernon called, letting go of the wall and righting himself in free-fall as he hurtled towards the Rhino. “No need to put on a show for little ol’ me—”

Okay. Maybe he had miscalculated the distance or maybe Rhino was less distracted than he thought, because instead of him dropping in on the villain like a ton of bricks, Rhino swung his suited arm, catching Vernon in the chest with bone-shattering force, and sent him flying.

Vernon hit the sidewalk with enough force for his body to skid a few feet before coming to a rest. His backpack (which had somehow not been torn to shreds) absorbed most of the blow, but the impact had knocked the wind out of him, and he lay there for a few seconds, wondering if he should just stay down. His head was already pounding, and a sleepy spider was a grumpy spider.

He changed his mind at the last moment as Rhino’s fist swung towards his face, and he flipped onto his back, jumping out of the way just as the fist came down where he had been lying milliseconds ago. Beneath the mask, Vernon’s eyes widened as he saw the blow break the asphalt.

I really do not have time for this.

“What the heck is that suit even made of?” he muttered as he dodged another blow, trying to work out a way to subdue Rhino as fast as possible. The suit was big and heavy, which usually made for slower reactions, and a good old webbing-down would have been the perfect way to wrap up the show, but if the suit was strong enough, even his web fluid wouldn’t hold. Vernon had to knock him out somehow.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Rhino made a throaty, hacking sound like could have been laughter. “Unfortunately, you will be dead before you can even get close enough.”

“You know, it doesn’t have to be this way,” Vernon said, dodging yet another attack, resulting in Rhino’s head getting stuck in the cracked windshield of a car for a moment. God, that guy was like a battering ram. He couldn’t keep this up forever. “We can always sit down and talk about this.”

“Spider-Man, I’ll kill you!”

“I’ll take that as a no, then.” Vernon raised his wrists, aiming at the car. Thwip-thwip, went the fluid from his web shooters, trapping the Rhino against the side of the vehicle. “Shame,” he said, as the man thrashed against his web restraints. “I know a really good taco place around here.”

The Rhino yelled, lifting the entire car bodily. Vernon watched as he raised the car over his head, the webbing breaking from the strain of the suit against them, and threw it directly at him.

Ah, crap.

Vernon would like to think he would have managed to get away from there in time even if someone hadn’t snatched him up into the air, but he doubted it. There was something majestic about watching a villain he’d underestimated lift a whole car up to throw at him.

The person caught him under the arms and lifted him into the air, away from the enraged roar of the Rhino that resounded throughout the street. Vernon’s first reaction to being picked cleanly off the road would be fear, but his spider sense hadn’t gone off yet. He tried to look up at his captor/savior, but the back of his head collided with something hard. “Ow,” he mumbled. “Who the hell are you?”

“The guy who just saved your ass, webhead,” the boy replied derisively. Or at least it sounded like a boy, very much like those guys in the cafeteria who used to drop snide remarks behind Vernon’s back pre-spider bite. The guy dropped him on the roof of a shorter building, and Vernon rolled out of the way, getting to his feet. The boy was dressed in a metallic-looking dark blue-and-gold suit, a bucket-like helmet over his head. The lower of his face was uncovered, exposing lips twisted into a scowl. “I’m not even getting a thank-you?”

“…thanks,” Vernon muttered after scrutinizing the guy for a moment. “Uh, who are you actually?”

“I’m Nova, creep.”

“Nova Creep.” He considered this. “Interesting.”

“Just Nova!” the boy snapped, sounding even more displeased than before. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my team and save the frickin’ neighborhood.”

Saying this, he turned and took off again, no doubt heading for wherever the action was. Vernon watched him go, choosing to take a breather instead of following him back down.

New superheroes in town? It wasn’t unheard of, and Vernon had had his fair share of newbies and oldies both to deal with in his year-long career as Queens’s friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

He looked down over the edge of the roof. Sure enough, there were three of them—a girl in a white suit, moving around the wreckage like an acrobat and slashing at the Rhino’s suit, Nova Creep shooting fist lasers (Flight powers and fist lasers? Unfair.) at him, and—was that Iceman?

Vernon hesitated. He could join the fight and help finish it more quickly, but if Iceman was here, the X-Men couldn’t be farther away. He could leave the three to it and get to school in time to catch forty winks before class, no harm done. Was he even needed?

Unfortunately, he knew he was only giving himself the illusion of choice. Spider-Man never walked away from a fight, even if someone more capable was dealing with it.

He shot webs at the metal post hanging out from the opposing building and swung back down, joining the fight just as Rhino caught the girl around the middle like he had Vernon, sending her flying back into an already wrecked car. Vernon cushioned her landing with webs, managing to protect her body from the broken metal chassis, and she was back on her feet in seconds, joining his side.

“Thanks,” she said, which surprised him. Most superheroes didn’t take the time out to thank him, but that was usually unnecessary, since they evened out the score by saving his life. “You know this guy?”

“Nah, he’s new in town,” he replied, watching Nova and Iceman fight the Rhino. Iceman froze him from the legs to his waist, but it didn’t hold for long before Rhino broke through the ice. “Strong, though, I’ll give him that.”

“It’s the suit,” the girl told him. Now that they were up close, Vernon could see that her costume somewhat resembled a white tiger, with the pointed ears and yellow eyes. He wondered if she’d been bitten by a radioactive white tiger. “It’s made of some kind of polymer.”

“Polymer?” he echoed, even more surprised. He’d assumed metal.

“Self-regenerating,” she affirmed. “It’s not indestructible—I slashed through the hide with my claws, but—”

“Your claws?”

She raised her hand. Under the white glove, her nails extended into wicked, claw-like tips. “Cool,” he said, voice cracking halfway through the word. He cleared his throat. “Very Woverine-ish.”

“He’s a mutant,” she said dismissively. What was he supposed to call her? Tigerwoman? Tigergirl? “Rhino’s suit regenerates. We have to knock him out.”

“Yeah, I figured that one out,” Vernon muttered.

“A little help here?!” Nova yelled, zipping through the air in a zigzag manner to avoid the Rhino’s hits. “Or are you two going to stand around and chat all day?”

Vernon’s lips twitched into an unintentional smile. “I’ll web him up,” he told tiger lady. “You think Nova can pull him up?”

Tiger inclined her head. “Not on his own, but with a little frosty boost…”

“Great.” He sprinted towards the group, shooting webs at the Rhino’s head to get his attention and distract him from the others. “Hey, Hippo! Over here!”

The Rhino ripped off the webbing from his visor, not wasting a moment before charging him. Vernon lunged, wrapping the Rhino suit up in webs as he scaled the wall, trapping him in the web fluid. It wouldn’t hold for long, he knew—but he only needed a few seconds. And some blind faith.

The excessive webbing wrapped around Rhino like a net trap, and Vernon pulled, lifting him into the air with as much strength as he could muster. Below him, Iceman froze a column of ice under the Rhino’s butt, giving him a little extra height. Ten feet…twenty feet…

“Tiger!” Vernon yelled.

She lunged, pushing off the hood of a dented car to give her extra height, and ripped through the thin web holding him up with her claws. Rhino plummeted to the ground, crashing into a car and through it, the fall only broken by the ground, the asphalt cracking beneath the force.

Vernon watched him anxiously. The suit should have been heavy enough to render the man inside unconscious, unless he had a really good cushioning system in place.

He counted to ten in his head. Rhino didn’t move.

Thank god for bad cushioning, Vernon thought, swinging back down to the ground. “You guys think you could carry him?” he asked the three. Iceman didn’t even look over, broodily watching the unconscious villain’s body. Oh well. “He’s a heavy hitter.”

“We could make it back to S.H.I.E.L.D. with him,” Tiger said. Then she glanced at him, cocking her head in a perplexed manner. “Wait, why do you—”

“I gotta run.” He shrugged sheepishly, adjusting the straps of his bag, which had only undergone minimal damage. The wonders never ceased. “You see, I’m late to first period biology.”

Vernon crashed through the doors of his school so fast he almost ploughed down Joshua, who had been standing just before the entrance, probably waiting for him.

The journey hadn’t taken more than a few minutes—he tried not to change clothes in suspicious-smelling service alleys as much as possible, but some situations left him no choice—but he only had a few minutes to get to class, and detention was something he couldn’t afford to get. He hated disappointing Aunt May more than he hated getting his ass beat by some B-list villain.

“Hey, hey, hey, relax,” Joshua said, righting him. The hallways were almost empty, but not quite, indicating that he wasn’t too late to the not-party. The boy fixed his glasses, giving Vernon a look. “Did you get into a fight?”

Vernon blinked at him. “What? No. This guy called Rhino—”

“Shh.” Joshua dragged him to one side, away from earshot of the general populace of Midtown High, and gave him a concerned look. “Dude, your face is bleeding.”

Joshua was one of the only few individuals in the world who knew about Vernon’s identity as Spider-Man, which was just as well, because if it hadn’t been for his blue-haired best friend he would have walked into a test with his nose gushing like a bloody geyser. “Thanks,” he mumbled, when Joshua handed him a clean-looking handkerchief. He raised it to his face. “Did you wipe your nose on this?”

Joshua made a face. “Not that I remember.”

“Good enough.” He cleaned off the blood as well as he could, which was hard, because he was feeling jittery and apparently his hands agreed. “Do I look fine?”

“You never look fine, my friend,” his friend said sagely. “But you look like you always do, so I guess, yes.”

Vernon shot him a grim smile, and started down the corridor towards 12-B, which was where he was supposed to be in ten minutes. He wasn’t even late, actually, but Mr. Malkin didn’t need a big excuse to give someone a C+ for a tardy warning. Joshua followed close behind. “So, which guy beat you up this time?”

“I didn’t get beat up.” Vernon rolled his eyes. “Well, not entirely—”

“Vernon Parker, report to room 10-A.” Both the boys’ heads whipped up towards the source of the sound, which came as an announcement from the speakers. “Vernon Parker, room 10-A, please.”

“What?” Vernon whirled on Joshua, panicked. The blue-haired boy’s eyes were wide behind his glasses, but he only shrugged in response. “But the test!”

He tried to think back to anything wrong he might have done in the past few weeks to get called aside like this, but he couldn’t think of anything. Plus, he hadn’t been summoned to the principal’s office, which confused him even more. Why room 10-A?

“Now you’ve had it, Parker,” Flash Thompson said as he passed them, grinning.

Vernon scowled at his retreating back, his grip tightening around the bag strap. “Whatever,” he muttered, then threw Joshua his bag. “Take it to the class, won’t you? I’ll try to get back as soon as I can.”

Without waiting for affirmation, he jogged off to find room 10-A, wanting to get whatever it was over with so he would get back on time. When he got there, the room was empty except for a lady in a pencil skirt and jacket, holding a clipboard in her hand. Upon his entry, she smiled at him in a friendly way, which only served to tick him off further.

“Whatever this is, couldn’t I do it some other time?” he pleaded. He hadn’t seen this staff member before, but he didn’t seem to be in trouble, and his grades had enough pull to get him out of some random appointment before classes. “I have a test in like, five minutes.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve already talked to your teacher about this,” the woman said, continuing to smile. She gestured to one of the seats. “Take a seat.”

Reluctantly, he obliged, not really having an excuse not to now. “What is this, exactly?” he asked. Now that panic had taken a backseat, doubt was beginning to creep in. Why only him? And how had he never seen this woman before?

“In light of recent events, the school has decided to start counselling sessions for all of the students to help them cope,” she said. She had a really nice smile, her skin tan and unblemished, cheeks dimpled. “I’m Melia Fox,” she said. “I just need to ask you a few questions, and you can be on your way.”

He stared back at her, miffed. A year of incidents, and they suddenly decided to have counselling sessions now? “Why just me?” he asked slowly. “I’m sorry, but isn’t there some kind of rule or protocol for—”

“There is,” said a new voice. Vernon whipped around, and there at the end of the classroom, where moments ago had been nothing but air, stood a tall black man with an eyepatch. “And Agent Fox is following it.”

Vernon gaped. “I—what?”

“Spider-Man,” Nicky Fury said, with a note of muted resolution in his voice, “we need to have a little chat.”

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whythinktoomuch · 5 years ago

Text

v. a deadly giveaway

(pt. i) (pt. ii) (pt. iii) (pt. iv)

“No, it’s huge deal,” Kara insists. “Alex hardly ever lets anyone choose their own weapons. Plus, she likes to judge people based on their preference in firearms. Like, for example, Mike with his big ol’ shotgun, which... well, don’t make me say it.”

“It’s just that either way, I’d have to give it back, no?”

Kara’s brow crinkles. “No...? Of course not. Why would we make you give it back?”

“Well, when I leave, I mean.”

“Oh... right,” Kara says. She hadn’t really considered a possibility in which Lena wouldn’t stay with them indefinitely, but nods as if she had.

Lena looks over at the marked silence, one corner of her lips quirking up in a wry smile. She leans into Kara, resting her head on her broad shoulder. “So, what does your gun say about you?”

Kara glances down at her trusty semiautomatic pistol and shrugs. “That I’m a quick shot?”

"Oh?” Lena laughs, and the delighted sound has Kara’s spirits lifting, just a little. “It’s also a Glock.”

“Sure.”

“Which means you have big hands,” Lena continues. She takes one of the hands in question and traces over the callused lifelines with her fingertips. When Lena plants a kiss at the very center of her palm, Kara’s spirits practically skyrocket.

So, Lena intends to leave one day, and Kara keeps forgetting about it until she’s forced to remember. Whether it be a stray comment or a pointed silence in response to questions about the near future, the reminder never fails to soil Kara’s mood for the rest of the day.

Naturally, Lena notices. Kara makes no secret of her feelings, after all, though she’s somehow managed to keep certain choice words to herself thus far. But Lena makes a real effort to make it up to her every time:

holding Kara’s hand,

tracing lazy shapes around each knuckle with her fingers,

telling her a silly joke, despite not remembering the punchline,

pressing lingering kisses to her shoulder, the warmth somehow bleeding through two layers of cotton,

falling asleep with her head in Kara’s lap, etc.

But honestly, in the end, it all just makes it that much worse for Kara.

“You can’t force her to stay,” Alex says with a sigh.

Kara scowls because she knows that, but still. “Well,” she says, “you made Kelly stay here with you, didn’t you?”

“Did not. I just made her like me enough to stay.”

Kara mumbles something into her pillow that Alex has to force her to repeat more clearly, “Lena likes me too.”

“That she does,” Alex says, rolling her eyes. “You know, she stares at the back of your head whenever she’s behind you. Not at your ass like a normal person, but your head. Like, she’s just waiting for you to turn around and see her.”

Kara buries both her fists into her belly, trying to stave off the ache that comes with Alex’s words, and just groans and groans.

“So, why haven’t you tried to kiss me again yet?” Kara asks, the next time she and Lena are killing time in the library together. There’s no one else around and Kara’s frankly got nothing much to lose these days. “Was it really that bad?”

Lena doesn’t answer, but her forehead goes bright red behind the cover of her latest novel. She starts turning the pages a bit more quickly, at a pace that surely even she couldn’t be reading at.

“Because if it was... this might be the perfect time to let you know that, well... it had been a while,” Kara says slowly. “And I wasn’t really ready or expecting a beautiful woman to just, you know—”

“Kara!” Lena slaps the book onto the table before her, her entire face blushing furiously. “What are you doing?”

Kara blinks. “Explaining?”

“Explaining what?”

“Why I think our next kiss would be so much better.”

“You... think about that a lot?”

“About kissing you?” Kara says incredulously. “Yeah, like, all the time!”

Lena nearly upends the table in her mad scramble to get across, the momentum resulting in Kara’s chair tipping backwards and crashing to the floor, with the two of them toppling along with it.

“Ow...” Kara wheezes, her back already sore from landing heavily against the back of the chair. “And wow, um... Cool.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Lena says breathlessly, grinding her hips against Kara’s like she’s ready to beg for forgiveness. “Are you okay?”

Kara shakes her head in amazement. “I’m fine. And you’re perfect.” Then she pulls Lena down for a hungry kiss, and in accordance with her predictions from earlier, it is indeed much better than their first.

Kara’s panting, then Lena’s panting, which only makes Kara pant even harder. She lets her hands wander—cupping the back of Lena’s neck, cradling her face, tangling in her long dark hair and tugging insistently, sliding down her arching back in reverence—until finally, they rest at the gentle swell of Lena’s hips.

She pauses with her fingertips skating just past the hem of Lena’s shirt. It’s as far as they got to last time when Lena froze up on her, and now, as somewhat expected, Lena’s freezing up all over again.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Kara says, cutting Lena off before she could try. “Kissing’s the best part anyway. Honest.”

Lena ducks her head, pressing her forehead against Kara’s thumping chest. “I want to, Kara. I really do want to...”

“Okay.” Kara strokes Lena’s hair, and she relaxes into the touch with a soft sigh until she’s boneless atop Kara’s blessedly solid frame. “Well, I’m okay either way.”

“I just...” Lena’s muffling her words into Kara’s shirt now, and it’s harder to hear, but infinitely more distracting. “I just don’t want you to see...”

Kara blinks a few times up at the ceiling in question, but it holds no answers for her. “See... your boobs?” she asks Lena instead.

“What? No!” Lena says sharply, as if Kara’s the one who’s being cryptic right now. “Of course not!”

“I’m not sure what we’re talking about then... but would it help if I went first?”

“What do you mean?”

But Kara’s already sitting up, leaning slightly back to give herself more space, then she whips her t-shirt off with a careless flourish. Lena’s hand—braced against Kara’s hip for balance—seizes up and her nails briefly bite into Kara’s skin.

“... You... can’t be serious...” Lena says, her voice strained. “What the fuck?”

Kara frowns, definitely not having expected that sort of reaction. “I ran out of clean bras.”

“No. Just... you look like this?” Lena presses her entire hand flat against Kara’s abs, gasping when they tense up against her touch. “God, you’re such a dick.”

Kara bursts out laughing, wrapping Lena up in the tightest of hugs, just so, so utterly charmed. They don’t even kiss again for the rest of the night. Instead, Kara just points out all the various scars that cover her body—a scattered, yet tangible timeline of everything she’s endured since the world fell apart.

Lena brushes her lips against each one upon introduction, attending to these long since healed wounds like Kara was still hurting.

Later on, when Alex accidentally walks in on them, she very loudly wonders why on earth couldn’t they just be having sex like normal people, goddammit.

Alex reiterates her very pointed question again when she’s getting ready for the next scavenging trip. “Please do it sooner rather than later. Preferably when I’m still out there, safe from catching you guys in the middle of whatever it is that passes for sex for the two of you.”

“Shut up,” Kara mutters. “You can’t order us to do it.”

“Sure I can,” Alex says easily, but she adjusts her tone at the pout her sister directs at her. “Look, I’m just saying. When she’s gone, you might end up regretting it. Who knows how long it’ll be before someone else you take liking to comes along?”

“Never. I’m never going to like anyone ever again.”

“Jesus.” Alex ruffles Kara’s hair affectionately until she flashes her teeth in a begrudging smile.

“Oh, hang on,” Alex says, once she gets to the front gate. “I think I left some spare rounds under my bed. Can you go get it?”

Kara rolls her eyes. “Why can’t you just go get it?”

“Because with my luck, your girlfriend’s probably already there half-naked or something.”

Kara ignores the flip her stomach gives at the very thought that Lena could be her girlfriend, let alone a half-naked one. “Because I’m faster, huh?” she says all cheeky instead, and Alex swats her over the head for it.

When Kara shoulders her way into the room, she doesn’t expect to see Lena, but her presence in and of itself isn’t surprising. No, what’s surprising is the fact that Lena’s not wearing her flannel, and she normally wears that thing all day, every day, even with all that wear and tear, even under the scorching sun, even to sleep.

But right now, the flannel’s off, and Lena’s wearing naught but a snug tank-top and the most terrified expression.

It takes a beat for Kara to notice—so distracted by the sight of all this newfound skin now at her disposal—but Lena’s holding something in her hand.

“Kara,” Lena starts, voice trembling. “I can explain.”

But before Kara could ask for clarification, she sees it. A jagged oval of tiny divots on the outside of Lena’s bicep. It’s an angry red, swollen, and unmistakeable.

Kara feels the floor drop out underneath her, and her stomach plummets right after it.

“That—that’s a bite. You’ve been bitten,” Kara’s shouting, oh god, when did she start shouting? “You were bitten, Lena! When were you bitten? When did you—god, when were you going to tell me, when—”

Lena quickly sticks herself with the item in hand—a syringe filled with some bright blue fluid—depressing the plunger right into the bite. Within seconds, the redness and swelling die down, but the bite—ugly and prominent even on pale skin—remains.

Kara’s throat hurts, from the shouting, from the hopelessness lodged in the very center of it all. She’s inexplicably crying already.

“I was bitten eight months ago,” Lena explains swiftly, quietly, as she throws her wretched flannel back on, disappearing the bite that’s already been branded in the forefront of Kara’s mind. “It’s... manageable. I can keep it at bay. It’s just a monthly injection. I’m fine.”

“It’s not a cure,” Kara says in a croak.

“No.”

“Monthly... injection?” Kara swipes at her eyes with a clenched fist. “How long do you have left?”

Lena hesitates, her lips pursed. “I’m... running out.”

“How. Long?”

“Four months,” Lena says, and Kara feels hitherto unregistered parts of her heart crumple and die. “I have to leave, Kara.”

Kara wants to protest—it’s still her natural inclination despite everything—but before she can even open her mouth to do what she does best, Alex steps into the room behind her.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

#finally got to the part i wanted to write (:#hope y'all enjoy the ride (:#my words.

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unityghost · 4 years ago

Text

Strangers

Here’s some new fanfiction for those of you who wanted to see some (and I know some of you did). Sorry for my cat delaying the writing process by shoving her chonky little body into my lap.

Have fun with the angst that occasionally makes me question my decision to refrain from anonymity.

Part 28 of Post-Asmodeus Sabriel Feels because I can’t stop myself. Find the full series here.

That Thursday afternoon, two days after they had left early in the morning for Missouri, Dean and Sam returned home.

Gabriel, who was aware of Sam’s impending return, had left his door open so that Sam could simply enter if he wanted.

Sam knocked on the doorframe anyway. “Hey.”

“Hey,” said Gabriel. “Nice gash on your knuckles there, soldier. You didn’t even try to clean yourself up, did you?”

Sam glanced down at the offending hand. “I was distracted, I guess. And I thought it wasn’t really important.”

“What the hell did that to you? Pennywise?”

“The witch had a familiar. Guess she’d trained it to go after anyone who might want to mess with her.” “Was her familiar a saber-toothed tiger?”

“Not exactly, no.”

“A wolf?”

“No. She had a, uh - ” Sam cleared his throat. “A gerbil she’d probably done some powerful spellwork on.”

“Perfect! There’s your story for any awkward silence at the next family reunion. Can I try and heal you? You got bitten like chum.”

“Definitely not. Don’t waste any of your grace on this.”

“Whether ‘this’ was from the Loch Ness monster or a jacked class pet doesn’t make any difference to me. Come on, get over here.”

Sam gave a sigh and stepped nearer so that he could offer his hand. Gabriel grabbed him by the wrist and examined the wound, which was no longer bleeding but evidently had not been properly sanitized.

He pressed his thumb into the jagged cut, waited a moment (I’m gonna look like a tool if this doesn’t work), and let a warm pulse of grace permeate the skin. Gabriel’s own human form crawled with gooseflesh as the surge of power rose up and then ebbed out of him. He pulled away once the damage was no longer visible.

“Look at that!” he declared, taken aback by the pride in his voice. “No big deal.”

Sam studied his hand and then grinned at Gabriel. “Thanks. Nice work.”

“Keep away from any and all furry fiends, Sam.” A wave of exhaustion overtook Gabriel on the tail end of the sentence. “Yeah, um … listen, I’m glad you’re safe and sound. And I guess maybe it’s been a long morning or something, so I’m gonna go ahead and kick back for a good half hour or so. That sound okay to you?”

“You’re tired because you just used up your grace.” Gabriel could see it: Sam was making a conspicuous effort not to appear perturbed. “Gabe, man, you really didn’t - ”

“It’s not that, it’s not that; I just … I just need …” Gabriel rubbed his forehead. “Whatever, I’m all right; I just want to lie down for a few minutes. You know me. I’m like Manhattan: sexy, psychotic, and eternally sleepless.”

Sam looked concerned, but nodded. “Sure. I’ll be around if you need anything.”

Once Sam had left, closing the door in his wake, Gabriel felt sleep overcome him in a way it typically didn’t when he tried to fall asleep at night. His entire body was worn down, as if he had forced it to its limits over a number of hours. He almost wished he hadn’t offered to heal Sam; what use would he be if something more serious came up?

But he had little time to dwell on the question, as exhaustion overwhelmed the ability to think.

He slept deeply, as he almost never did; and in the abyss of his own subconscious, he heard voices.

I can’t be alone with them, I can’t; I don’t know them!

Shut your mouth, you spoiled little weasel. They gon’ be good to you; ain’t that right, boys?

I don’t know them; I don’t know them!

Oh, well now, you’ll get to know them soon enough. And ain’t these fellas just so lucky to ignite a friendship with my favorite archangel? Sometimes I wish I could make your acquaintance all over again, boy. There ain’t nothin’ like the first time.

I don’t know them; I don’t know them! Please, no, wait! Why won’t you listen to me? Why won’t you touch me? Stop it! Stop it! Look at me! Help me!

What happened in his dreams seemed to last hours; and indeed, when the door creaked open and a small voice called his name, the time was 5:00 P.M. - three and a half hours since Gabriel had told Sam he needed rest.

“Are you okay?” Jack called. “Sam told me to come check on you.”

With the flat, bitter taste of afternoon slumber in his mouth, Gabriel sat up. His face felt warm where it had pressed into the pillow. “Yeah. Yes. Apparently Sam went and got himself chewed up by a bloodthirsty hamster, and I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to try and fix it. Guess I had less in me than I thought.”

Jack nodded. “Okay. It was a gerbil, by the way. Not a hamster.”

“Whatever. Something in the category of small, furry, and unexpectedly lethal.”

“You know how witches are. Imagine what Rowena could do with a gerbil.”

Gabriel yawned. “Guess I’ve never thought about it.”

“You’re not shaking, are you?”

“Me? Nah.”

Jack stared at him. "I don't like seeing you like this."

"No refunds. Sorry, little guy.”

Jack watched him for a few moments, then strode over to the bed and wrapped his arms around Gabriel.

Jack pulled away, crestfallen. "Oh. I'm ... I'm sorry. I guess I thought I could help. If I had my powers, I ... maybe I could do more."

Gabriel shook his head. "Doubt it, bud. Don't feel bad, all right? This isn't about anything you're doing wrong. It's about me being too icky for you. Don't want you to get whatever disease it is I've turned into." Gabriel hadn’t anticipated this bitterness, especially not in front of Jack. The rush of self-loathing had seized him without warning.

Jack's expression creased into an odd mix of horror and puzzlement. Perhaps he sensed that these words were troubling, but didn’t fully understand them.

“You go ahead and tell Sam I’ll be right out,” Gabriel said, feeling as though he had just violated his nephew in some way. “Go on, let him know. I just need to stretch, all right?”

Slowly, Jack nodded. “Are you upset because I hugged you?”

“No! No, come on; I’m not upset over that, or over anything else. Don’t worry so much. I’m a grown-ass angel and can take care of my own damn self. And even if I couldn’t, the job isn’t yours.”

Jack seemed uncertain of what to say in response, so he simply nodded again, forced a smile, and exited the bedroom.

“Close the door,” Gabriel called. “I like to get my bearings in solitude.”

“Sure,” said Jack, although he sounded anything but sure.

Once the door was shut and Jack’s footsteps - lighter than Sam’s, more staccato - Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. He would have liked to have been able to shake the dream off before heading into the hall, before seeing anyone else, but it stirred its way through his insides and refused to leave.

Once he had some semblance of composure, he dragged himself out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where he found Jack and Sam sitting at the table in conversation.

Gabriel was disappointed but not surprised to hear Jack say, “And I think something might be wrong with him, but I don’t really know what” before both of them fell silent upon Gabriel’s entry.

“Oh, hey,” said Sam. There was a mug of coffee in front of him, still steaming. “You feeling okay? Were you asleep that whole time?”

“I …”

Sam glanced at Jack, who looked troubled. “Give us a minute.”

“I don’t think it’s true,” Jack said, not to Sam but to Gabriel. “It’s not true what you said about being able to take care of yourself.” He sounded bewildered.

No, Gabriel realized, He sounds hurt.

“I know when you’re not telling me the truth,” Jack said.

Before Gabriel could respond, Sam put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “For now, Jack. Okay?”

Jack looked back and forth between Sam and Gabriel, helpless, frustrated - and then jerked himself out of Sam’s grip and left the room.

Gabriel watched him leave. Once Jack was out of earshot, he said, “Kid’s messed up. My fault. He needs you more than I do.”

“No. No, he’s all right. He just wants to help and doesn’t know how.”

“Well, that’s not how things are supposed to be.”

“So, um …” Sam sat down. He was probably expecting Gabriel to do the same, but Gabriel felt more comfortable standing up. “What happened? Is something wrong? Jack said - ”

“I heard what Jack said.” Gabriel looked down, examining the floor.

“Are you okay?” Sam pressed.

“I’m fine.”

“You want me to ask Jack? See if he can confirm?”

Jack, who had been sent in place of Sam; who had been given the unfortunate duty of making sure that his uncle wasn’t in urgent need of help. Jack, who should have been too young to know anything of Gabriel’s pain. Jack, who was incapable of choosing for himself whether to opt in as caregiver or to step away from what he didn’t know - couldn’t know - was too heavy for such a naive spirit.

“No,” Gabriel said. “I would like to humbly request that you not ask him a single freakin’ thing.”

“Did you have bad dreams?”

The images floated into the present, still warm. He saw the face of a stranger (a demon whose presence had been background noise during Gabriel’s imprisonment, but who apparently had taken up space in his memory), bloated with derision and the definite appetite that only manifested in nightmares.

“Yeah,” Gabriel told Sam. “But - I mean, that’s, you know - ” Words hummed into static as he tried to think of just what to confess, and whether he ought to say anything at all. It wouldn’t necessarily do any good for either of them - and especially not for Sam, who had had only a few hours to recover from his encounter with a witch and her maniacal gerbil.

Sam gave him a moment to think before stepping in. “Look, Gabe, don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I can tell when something’s the matter with you. Jack isn’t the only one.”

“Stop talking about Jack!” Gabriel snapped, and Sam blinked in surprise.

He asked, “Can I maybe do anything to help?”

Gabriel could tell that Sam feared pushing conversation, confession, or counsel. Sam wanted to know; Sam had every right to know. Gabriel owed him at least some piece of the truth. And so he said: “I’m sorry. Maybe I just missed you while you were away.”

Sam smiled at him. “You knew I was coming back, right?”

“Sure I did.” A pause, and then: “However, there is the minor possibility that the halfway point between ‘I’ll be right back’ and ‘I’ll head home once you’ve taken out the trash’ got lost in translation.”

Sam didn’t seem to immediately understand what Gabriel meant. When his look of puzzlement became one that Gabriel couldn’t quite identify - resigned, but also horrified - Sam got to his feet and took a few steps toward Gabriel and held out the hand that, just hours earlier, had sported an ugly wound.

“Oh please,” Gabriel said. “We don’t have to do this. You don’t need to suckle me. Maybe I’m just a little shaky after kicking my grace into gear. I mean, don’t think I’m not glad to have used it; your hand looks a hundred times - ”

“Gabriel,” Sam said, “I missed you too.”

The kitchen tilted and fogged. Sam jolted forward and caught him as Gabriel’s knees buckled, although he hadn’t felt particularly weak or faint up until that moment.

Like a punch to the jaw, he thought. Enough force at once and down you go.

Sam helped him to sit at the table.

“That was on purpose,” said Gabriel. “I was trying to do a cartwheel.”

“Can I get you some water? Some coffee? There’s still a lot left.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t need - I mean, there’s not much to be done when everything around me is fine.”

Sam squinted at him. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“Yes. I’m all right.” He glanced away. “Or I thought I was.”

Sam hesitated for a few seconds. Then he asked: “Did you really think I wasn’t going to come back?”

“No, that’s not what I thought.”

“Honestly, Gabriel?”

Gabriel sagged in the chair. “What difference does it make? My intuition isn’t exactly razor-fine these days. I knew you were coming back. You’ve got family here. You’ve got every reason in the world to dust your rodent-bitten hands of whatever case, turn around, and head home.”

“You can come with me next time, if you want.”

“No, I - ” The idea of Sam being forced to tote him around like a needy child humiliated Gabriel. “I just see everything as a landmine, that’s all. You know what? You could tell me, ‘By the way, we’re thinking of retiling the bathroom’ and my first thought would be, ‘Have they been hinting that I’m supposed to retile the bathroom and I was too dense to pick up on it? Are they angry? Can I do something to make up for not retiling the bathroom? Did they run out of tasks to keep me around and are trying to think of some other use for me, or - ’”

“Okay,” Sam interrupted, “I get the picture. The important thing is I’m back now; I’m here, and you’re okay. It’s all okay.”

“Great. I can feel my troubles drifting away like spider silk on the summer breeze.”

“I know it’s easier said than believed, but that still doesn’t make it less true.”

Gabriel straightened up a little. The room was no longer spinning. “Sam, I know that you wouldn’t just, you know, completely disappear. I know that, okay? And even if you did go AWOL, I’ve got a whole team over here; it’s not like you’d be replaced with a stranger or - or anyone who wanted to hurt me. I know that,” he emphasized, and Sam, looking concerned, didn’t reply. “But,” Gabriel added, “I think I may have fallen into a little bit of an old pattern without realizing it. And I can’t really say why now, out of the blue. It isn’t as if you haven’t left for days at a time to do your job.”

“Is this the first time you ever felt that way when I left? Like I wasn’t going to come home? Like I was going to leave you to someone else?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, before he realized that that was actually wrong. In fact, he couldn’t remember an instance of Sam traveling when Gabriel hadn’t been, at the very least, nervous about being left without him. “I mean, no, but I haven’t had a nightmare about it. Not one this bad, not one this gruesome.” He swallowed. “I guess I was catching up on lost sleep, especially after using my grace.”

“What’d you dream about?”

“Oh, I dreamed about Asmodeus. And about some other demon I thought I’d maybe forgotten. One who watched over me once or twice when he - when Asmodeus - had other business to attend to. He would do to me everything Asmodeus did, only - only when he did it, it just felt different, because I didn’t even know his name. I used to plead with Asmodeus not to go, but sometimes he had to, I guess, and he left me. I look back on it, and I see that he couldn’t have stuck around for me all the time, but - ”

“Gabriel,” Sam interjected, “Can I ask you something?”

“Is it a less foreboding question than ‘can I ask you something’?”

“I want to know,” Sam said, “Why you end up trying to defend him.”

“What? I don’t do that.”

“Yeah, you do. He had no right to - ”

“I know, I know. He was in the wrong; I was the unwitting beaten animal. I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I just don’t want you to - ”

“In any case, when he left I felt exposed. When it was him, I mostly knew what to expect, even if it was just a familiar face. I remember screaming and begging with him not to leave me by myself, either with no one or with someone I didn’t really know. I remember him laughing at me whenever I did that, or just pretending like he couldn’t hear me.” Gabriel shivered.

Sam took his hand. “It’s okay. That won’t happen to you again.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“Good.”

“What are we gonna do about Jack?”

“Jack? I told you, Jack’s fine.”

“No, he’s confused. He thinks he wants to help me, and he doesn’t know that he can’t. Of everything that’s eaten away at his innocence, I think I might be the biggest culprit.”

“What? Jeez, Gabriel, that really couldn’t be farther from the truth. And anyway, I thought you didn’t want to talk about Jack anymore.”

“I want to be better for him. Or I at least want him to see something that isn’t this. Something that isn’t me the way I am now.”

“Don’t twist yourself in knots over Jack. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Why did you send him in?”

Sam frowned. “When? To check on you?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know, I was making coffee and I thought he might like to see you.” Sam suddenly looked troubled. “That’s really all it was. I wasn’t trying to stay away from you.”

“Yeah. I, uh … I know.” Gabriel focused on breathing steadily - not too shallow, not too deep - and on the weight of Sam’s hand. “You get it, right? That I trust the others, I do; but I don’t trust them the same way, exactly. You know? I can’t help that. I try, and I can’t. They care a lot; they show that they care and I like that. But it still - it feels different with you. I wish I could get everyone on the same level, Sam; it’d only be fair to you, and to them, if I could learn not to be afraid of anybody. I just don’t know how to be as okay with them as I am with you. I keep trying to fight that - I keep trying to remind myself that nobody here is dangerous. And that maybe I can ask them for the same things I would come to you for. You know, after a nightmare, or when my mind goes dark. It just feels different when you’re gone, Sam.”

Sam squeezed his hand. “That’s okay.”

“I don’t - ” Gabriel’s throat was tight. “I’m not - I still find Castiel sometimes, when I need help in the middle of the night. Wanna give you a break. He helps. Next to you, he’s the one who feels least like Asmodeus. I mean, there’s Jack, of course, but he’s a different ballgame. I can’t tell my brother the truth, though. I can’t tell him that I don’t really want him. He tries so hard and he’s a superstar. Even when I’m awake, with him, and - and crying, or sick, I can never bring myself to tell him what I’m really thinking. I can’t explain to him that a part of why I can’t really calm myself down is that I feel like I need you there.”

Sam seemed at a loss. “I don’t think that would bother Cas.”

“It’s difficult; it’s confusing to need the things that I do. It’s confusing to be this lost and out of control and dependent. I don’t think I’m handling it right.”

“There’s no right way. No wrong way, either.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Sam, but that’s just plain not true. There is a whole world of wrong ways to move through this experience. Someone with more sense would know that the aftermath of something like what happened to me isn’t as bad as being in the thick of it. But me, I can’t seem to get the one stubborn foot out of Hell no matter how hard I pull at it.” Gabriel felt his heartbeat entwine with the knot in his throat, making it hard to breathe. “I’m not supposed to need this.”

“To need what?”

“Not supposed to need to cry, I guess. I don’t think that’s the right way to get through this. What good’s crying gonna do, you know? It’s not helpful and it’s degrading.”

“It’s pretty normal, I think.”

“I don’t want it to become so frequent that - that you - ” As if his body was in a state of defiance, he felt tears slip down the edges of his nose. “That you see it so much it becomes background noise. That you don’t think - that you don’t take it seriously. I think that was part of why he started to just turn away from me. He’d seen me upset too many times to think anything of it.”

“Jesus, Gabriel, you keep trying to make this into your fault.”

“I want you to know that when I can’t - can’t hold myself together, it means nothing.”

“That’s not what I think when you cry, Gabriel.”

“After a while, though - ”

“No. And besides, you know how I feel about trying to keep it all inside.”

“Can we, uh - ” Gabriel dragged a shaking hand across his cheeks. “Can we maybe go somewhere else? I don’t want Jack to walk in and see this.”

“I can take you to my room. Can you get to your feet okay?”

Gabriel nodded and stood up, although the task proved more of a challenge than he had anticipated. Something in him was desperate not to move: he wanted to hide, to seek shelter in his own smallness.

“Come on.” Sam took his shoulder and steered him down the hall. Gabriel trained his eyes on the floor; if Jack was nearby, Gabriel wouldn’t have known.

Sam shut the door behind them as they entered the bedroom. Gabriel immediately curled up on the bed, face in his knees, hands gripping his hair.

He felt Sam sit next to him. “Hey, buddy, deep breaths.”

Gabriel couldn’t bring himself to look up. He hated himself for what he wanted just then: more than anything, he hoped that Sam would put an arm around him, or that Sam would hold him. But Sam was probably using caution, afraid that Gabriel would recoil from touch.

I don’t need that anyway, Gabriel told himself. I don’t need it. I don’t. I don’t need that.

“Not sure if this makes any difference,” Sam said after a while, “But try not to forget that I - that all of us - we understand what it feels like, you know. At least in some way. We all know what it’s like to want to look good for each other. All of us have been hurt pretty bad at some point. We don’t need each other any less than you need me. And we know how it feels to not want to tell the truth about that.”

Gabriel turned his head so that it rested sideways on his knees and he could look at Sam, who went on: “I just want you to keep in mind that however much you don’t like how things are right now, this isn’t you having a weird reaction to Amsodeus. I know it feels gross, but it isn’t wrong, Gabriel.”

“Doesn’t really matter,” Gabriel whispered. “I feel like I’m wrong just because of whatever it is he made me into. I’m disgusting.”

“You’re really not.”

“I can feel it, Sam. The feeling of just being something wrong. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to,” Sam told him, and Gabriel’s chest tightened at the realization that Sam knew precisely the feeling he was talking about.

“I wonder what he thought when he saw me like this,” Gabriel said hoarsely. “Sometimes he wasn’t exactly upfront about what was going on in his mind. What did he think when he saw this diseased little rodent clawing for a split second’s attention?”

Sam looked vaguely ill at these words. “It doesn’t matter what he thought of you.”

“It does matter, because I want to know that you aren’t thinking the same thing about me.”

“Well, I certainly don’t see you as a … a ‘diseased rodent.’ Where’d you come up with that? Gerbil still on your mind, huh?”

Gabriel couldn’t bring himself to return Sam’s half-hearted smile.

“I don’t see that at all,” Sam insisted. “I just see you.”

“Ugh. That’s worse.”

“You’re different. I see that. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to you being so … different. Not because it’s bad; not because it’s wrong. Just because it’s, you know …”

“Different,” Gabriel muttered.

“Right. Because ‘different’ is what happens when you’ve had everything taken from you.”

Gabriel was silent.

“You’re still Gabriel, though,” Sam reminded him.

Gabriel closed his eyes. “I don’t know if that’s what I want to be.”

“You have a choice now. You can be Gabriel any way you like.”

Gabriel hid his face again.

So Sam saw him. He saw Gabriel. And when Sam saw this terrified, sobbing phantom of what Gabriel had once been, did he really think he was seeing the true Gabriel?

And why? Gabriel thought. Why won’t he touch me?

Sam’s voice broke through once more. “Asmodeus didn’t leave you with anything good, Gabriel. All he gave you was violence and fear and shame. And look - I don’t know about you, but I think it makes sense that it’d take some work to get back any of the good things he kept out of reach.”

Gabriel raised his head, showcasing what he felt was probably a grotesquely tear-stained visage. “Sure it does. Except that if he kept all that for so long, he must have had a reason. I don’t know that I want to put up a fight for happiness I don’t even deserve.”

“You do deserve it, and you should put up a fight.”

“I don’t know if I - ”

“Then I’ll put up a fight,” Sam said. “Okay?”

Almost involuntarily, as if seizing, Gabriel jerked sideways and used both hands to grab onto Sam’s arm. He squeezed tightly, not sure exactly what he was doing or why. It felt primitive and desperate.

Sam’s features softened. “Hey, hey …”

“Is it okay?” Gabriel asked hoarsely. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

“Of course it’s okay.”

The bewilderment in Sam’s voice served as a reminder that Gabriel was being stupid and overly cautious, that Sam definitely didn’t mind touching him, ever; but the fear was present no matter how irrational Gabriel understood it to be.

In fact, he realized, it wasn’t fear that plagued him as he worried about Sam’s potential aversion: it was something nearer shame.

Yes, he thought, of course he was ashamed - he wasn’t afraid of Sam not wanting to touch him; he was guilty that he wanted Sam to touch him when he knew that nobody should have to.

“What’s wrong?” asked Sam, seeing that Gabriel hadn’t moved and was still clutching Sam’s arm.

“I don’t know,” Gabriel mumbled. “I think I might just be stupid.”

“No! You’re not stupid; you’re stressed.”

“I thought - you know, if you wanted to keep your hands to yourself, it’d be justified.”

“What? Listen, if you need something from me, Gabriel - some time to talk, or a hug - ”

“I can ask, I know. But I - ”

“But you don’t.”

“Well yeah, because what if you don’t want me around?”

“Come on, Gabriel, I do want you around.” Sam put a hand on Gabriel’s arm and pulled him in for an embrace. “God, you’re gonna drive yourself crazy.”

“Oh, that ship left the dock a long time ago.”

They sat in silence for several minutes. Sam held onto him, and Gabriel didn’t try to hug back. He just let himself lean against Sam, not speaking, not crying.

“Sam,” he said finally.

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t get it into your head that you can’t leave to do your job. Don’t ever feel guilty about not being in my immediate vicinity just because I’m scared of my own reflection. Okay?”

“Sure, Gabriel. Okay.”

“I really mean it. Don’t let this change the way you operate. I came into your life by accident and you don’t need to take maternity leave for something that shouldn’t have thrown your life into chaos.”

Sam laughed. “I wasn’t working nine to five before you showed up, Gabriel.”

“You know what I mean, don’t you?”

“I do. I get it. You don’t have to worry about that; I’m glad you’re here. I like having you around. I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t being honest.”

Gabriel wasn’t sure how to explain that, in some ways, it would have been easier to accept the notion that Sam was lying.

Instead, he said: “I was so afraid of him, Sam.”

“I know.”

“He … but I was afraid of being left alone, too. Sometimes. I was afraid of the other demons, the ones I didn’t know. I never knew what to expect from them. They had weapons, and tricks, and insults, and - even the stupid ones were terrible; any simpleton can learn what violence is. And they watched him; they knew how to hurt me. They’d seen what he did to me. I was his toy and they were just happy to get a turn.”

Sam stiffened.

“So when you’re gone,” Gabriel whispered into his shoulder, “And I’m here with someone else, anyone else, a little of that just creeps on in. That’s all. I knew you were coming back, but I felt differently. I know Dean doesn’t want to hurt me. Or Cas, or Jack. When it was just me and those two, I didn’t - I knew I wasn’t threatened. None of this crew have ever given me any reason to believe I’m in danger around them. It’s just a dumb feeling.”

Sam sighed. “No, it’s not dumb. But you’re right: they’re not going to do anything to you.”

“When he’d come back,” Gabriel added, “He would brutalize me all over again. Taking my grace whenever there was enough to go around. Beating me until I couldn’t remember my own name. Just tearing me apart in any way he could.” Gabriel shook his head. “Didn’t matter how much I cried. He thought it was funny. ‘What a whiner,’ he’d say. ‘It’s almost like you think you didn’t deserve it.’”

“Gabriel, god!”

“Yeah, and then he’d - you know - off he’d go, leaving me sobbing like a baby. I kept hoping he’d hear me from wherever he was; I thought maybe he’d at least pay me some attention. Even if it was just to yell at me. No one wants to be wailing into their own blood and vomit solo.

“But it was my fault, always my fault. It was always me. I was the one who’d said something out of bounds; I was the one who asked for something I wasn’t supposed to want; I was the one who - who - ” Gabriel pressed himself against Sam. “And if he did show up, he’d ignore me. Turn his back, go about his business. I may as well have been any soul in Hell, just radio static.

“And when he did notice me, when he decided to stop shutting me out, he’d just say to shut up; or sometimes, for whatever reason, he would switch things up and give me a little spoonful of comfort before finding some other reason to grab me off the floor and slam me into the wall and then hold me down so he could play.”

Sam took a shivery breath. “I - yeah. Yeah, okay. Okay.”

“So when you’re gone, Sam, I can’t always think rationally. It’s as if maybe you want nothing to do with me, and the others - well, Sam’s not here to protect this nuisance who’s taken over our lives, so let’s get in what we can. And then it’s - it’s - if you don’t come back, what am I supposed to do? Who am I supposed to trust?”

There was a pause. When Sam replied, he sounded restrained. “I really didn’t think about that.”

“Because there’s no reason to! Because you’ve got a brain that operates according to fact! Whereas mine leaps in any direction it sees fit in response to any threat, any hazard. And Sam, everything is a threat. Everything is a hazard. Compared to you, the others are strangers to me, and I don’t like strangers; I don’t trust them; I don’t know them.”

“I would never leave you with strangers.”

“And you shouldn’t have to leave me with anyone, Sam! I’m supposed to be able to watch over myself like a damn grown-up! But I can’t, not anymore; and who knows if the day will ever come when I’ll be able to take care of myself again? The important thing is I know you aren’t leaving me with strangers. What little remains of my rational mind finds that obvious. But these old ways of thinking, they just - they’re next to impossible for me to shake off.”

“I know.”

“That’s all this is. Old habits. Old ways of looking at what’s around me. Or what’s not.”

“I guess I’m glad you know that.” By now, Sam sounded almost as shaken as Gabriel did.

“If I could just balance out the knowing and the feeling, everything would be a whole lot easier for every single one of us. And one thing I don’t understand is …” But he trailed off, afraid of saying something the wrong way, or of being misunderstood, or - worst of all - overstepping a boundary.

“What?” Sam asked. “What is it, Gabe?”

Gabriel shook his head.

Sam sighed. “Okay. All right.”

“No, it’s … all I was gonna say is that …” Gabriel was glad that Sam couldn’t see his face. “Maybe it’s because you were the only one who really tried, the only one who really showed a lot of concern for this deflated ragdoll of an angel that somehow ended up in your custody like a doorstep newborn. Maybe it’s just something about you, I don’t know. Something you have that the others don’t. I’m not sure, Sam. All I know is I have this - this gut-based terror about losing you. Not necessarily because you’ll get sick of me, but because - because - see, I don’t know. I feel it when you hold me like you are right now; the idea of letting go scares me more than Asmodeus ever did.”

He was afraid to look up, but he did; and Gabriel was horrified to see that Sam’s eyes were glossy with tears.

Gabriel wrenched himself away. “Don’t, don’t do that! I’m not trying to make anyone more upset. It’s not anything you’re doing wrong. It’s not that you could be doing anything different, Sam; you’re better at handling me than anyone has any right or reason to be.”

“Well …” Sam closed his eyes, gathered his composure. “Right.”

“I’m putting so much pressure on you with those words, aren’t I?” Gabriel was shivering now. “I’m making you think you have to be perfect, that you have to be next to me a hundred percent of the time.”

Sam swallowed and shook his head. “No, that’s not what I was thinking. I just wish you didn’t feel that way, is all. I wish you weren’t so … that he hadn’t made you feel like …”

“Right?” said Gabriel. “It’s hard to articulate, isn’t it? I can’t figure it out, and I don’t know what to do with it. Wanting the - needing to be taken care of the way I do lately, and needing it to be you, and being so scared to death that you might be there one second and gone the next. I don’t understand that feeling.

“There’s time to figure it out. Stop trying to force yourself to understand everything, Gabriel. You don’t have to, and it’ll probably come with time.” Sam looked flushed, but his eyes were dry now.

There was a sound from the hallway: a door opening, and small, tentative footsteps. They paused outside the door, and then moved on until neither Gabriel nor Sam could hear them.

“Jack came in and hugged me,” Gabriel told Sam.

“Oh. Sorry about that. I did say - ”

“No, it’s all right. I’m only bringing it up so you know you don’t have to warn him not to touch me. He can touch me. If he wants to.”

“What about what you want?”

“I … no, I just mean that maybe I’m not … not good for …” Gabriel gave a frustrated sigh, still speaking into Sam’s shoulder. “It’s fine.”

“I know you still worry about that.”

“About what?”

“I know that you worry about corrupting Jack.”

“I don’t know that I ever used the word ‘corrupt.’”

“But Gabriel, he cares about you. He looks up to you. And I know you think that’s a bad thing, but he likes you just the way you are now. He knows you’ve been through more than your fair share of trauma. He’s seen you when you’re not feeling your best. And he still wants to be around you. Listen, I’m not here to tell you what to do, but I really don’t think you should push him away.”

“I let him hug me! I’m not pushing him away. I’m trying to protect him.”

“But why? What good do you think is going to come of him seeing that you’re hurt, and walking away without any understanding of what’s going on? It’s better for him if he can learn how to help. Otherwise he’s going to feel like you don’t trust him.”

Gabriel froze. “Has … has he said that to you?”

“Not in so many words, no. He doesn’t always know how to articulate himself, or what’s frustrating him. You’re right: in a lot of ways, he’s just a kid. And I think instead of trying to stop him seeing you like this, you might teach him that wanting to help isn’t a bad thing. I just - I don’t want him to get the idea that he should try not to act the way he does. Loving you, caring about you. If you tell him no, if you keep trying to make him stay away from you when you most need somebody … he might get it into his head that he’s wrong to have those instincts.”

“Wait, what? What does that mean? So I’m - am I corrupting him by making it seem like it’s bad to be compassionate? That’s a whole new kind of crisis.”

“Not corrupting him. Just maybe sending a message that he finds confusing, since it goes against his nature.”

Gabriel considered this for a few moments.

Sam waited.

Then, finally Gabriel asked: “Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know. Back to the kitchen, maybe.”

“I guess I should talk to him, shouldn’t I?”

“You don’t have to. Not right now. Just let him in when he wants to give you what you need.”

“No, I - let me go find him.” Gabriel started to rise from the bed, but Sam gently pulled him back down.

“What?” Gabriel demanded. “You think I shouldn’t talk to him?”

“It’s not that,” Sam replied. “I just want to make sure you’re not mad at yourself.”

“Not any more than usual.”

“If you go to him and say you hate yourself for ‘corrupting’ him any which way, you’re both gonna miss my point.”

“Please,” Gabriel said. “I just - I really - will you please let me talk to him?”

Sam looked pained. “I’m not going to keep you from talking to him. It’s up to you. I just want to make sure you feel okay.”

Gabriel stood up again. “I never feel okay.”

“Why don’t I go get him for you?” Sam suggested.

“You can do that as long as you don’t give him a contract to sign about when it’s okay to touch me.” Gabriel wasn’t sure why this was such a sticking point for him, but Sam’s words about Jack’s natural character, and about his impulses to express affection, made it seem more logical.

“I’ll get him for you,” Sam repeated. “Gabriel - ”

“Please, Sam. Either you can grab the kid or I can, but I really want to talk to him.”

Sam nodded, studying him, making sure. Then he patted Gabriel on the shoulder and left the room.

Jack came in a couple of minutes later, looking nervous.

“Hey, bud,” said Gabriel.

Jack raised a hand in a silent, tentative greeting.

“Wanted to have a word. Sit?”

Jack sat beside him. “Am I in trouble?”

“Oh, please. You sound like your uncle.”

“Listen, if this is about me hugging you …”

“No, come on, kid; you didn’t do anything wrong.” Gabriel worried that Jack was picking up on some of his more neurotic interpersonal habits. “I wanted to thank you. And before you ask for what, you should know that you’re … you’re good, you’re a good bean; and I’m the one who isn’t doing what I should be. I’m not - Jack, I don’t mean to tell you to bug off when I know you only mean to help.”

“I know you think I’m too - ”

“I don’t think you’re too anything. I think I’m too - too me to let you get past a whole lot of nonsense. Look, I don’t wanna make this more complicated than it has to be; what I’m trying to say is that I’m not proud of myself for swatting at you like a fly when, in a perfect world, everybody would be like you.”

“Oh.” Jack looked down at his knees, thoughtful and perplexed.

“Don’t try to change yourself on account of my orneriness,” Gabriel clarified. “Be nice. Be good. Be you. You’ll just have to be patient with your stubborn old uncle. Sam can tell you that I’m difficult.”

Jack looked back up at him.

“Do you get what I’m saying?” Gabriel asked. “I don’t know how to explain it any more eloquently than that.”

Jack nodded. “I think I do.” Gabriel waited for him to explain the concept, to paraphrase what he had just been told; but Jack said nothing, and Gabriel could only assume that the message had gotten through.

Finally, Jack replied, “I’m sorry too.”

“No - kid - I’m trying to say you have nothing - ”

“I mean I’m sorry about what happened to you. I’m sorry you got hurt. That’s all.”

Gabriel clamped his lips shut. He could only nod.

Jack stared at him, studying him, reading him like a map.

Gabriel gave a hoarse laugh. “Is there something in my teeth?”

“Do you want me to go get Sam?” Jack asked.

“No.”

“You looked like - ”

“I always look like that. Anyway, Jack, I hope you understand - at least a teensy bit - what it is I’m trying to explain to you. I’m sorry that I can’t wrangle a single thought into words.”

“I think I understand.” Jack hesitated, then asked: “So how can I help? What can I do?”

“Ah, I don’t know; you’ve already been doing everything right. I’m the one who’s trying to fight you on it. So just … just keep doing what you’re doing.” It pained Gabriel to say it. He agreed with Sam, but he could hardly stomach the instant guilt that came with implicitly encouraging Jack to watch Gabriel struggle.

Jack smiled, and Gabriel thought he saw relief in his eyes. “Okay. Sure. Thanks.”

“Oh, please. Thank you.” Gabriel felt that he ought to try and touch Jack and was ashamed that he couldn’t bring himself to initiate contact.

Someday, he told himself.

Jack stood up to go. “I hope you feel better later.”

“I already do.”

“You look - ”

Gabriel held up a hand. “Again: I always look like that.”

Sam reentered immediately after Jack made his exit. He looked tense and wide-eyed and was evidently trying to conceal his agitation. “Hey.”

“I’m fine,” said Gabriel.

“Did it - ”

“Everyone’s fine, Sam.”

“Listen,” Sam said, stepping over to the bed, “I really didn’t mean to make you think you were doing something wrong.”

“Except that I was doing something wrong, and I’m old enough to learn from my mistakes, so don’t apologize for straightening me out.”

“I’m not trying to make you do anything. I’m not trying to put pressure on you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel sighed and closed his eyes. It seemed that those hours of sleep had been anything but restful. “If you don’t drag my attention to where it really belongs, nothing’s ever gonna get set right. I told you, there is a wrong way to do this. Sometimes I see it, and sometimes I don’t. And if you’re going to fight me on that, if you wanna say there’s no 'wrong' way, then how about this? There’s a better way.”

“Well, Jack looked calmer for sure. How about you? You feeling better?”

Gabriel considered, and then shook his head. The lopsidedness of an afternoon cleaved by turbulent slumber had left a stinging headache, and the nightmare had nested in the pit of his stomach, souring his whole body.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have used your grace on me,” Sam lamented. “Don’t try again for a while, okay?”

“It’s not that. I can feel that that’s not what’s wrong with me. It’s what I said to you earlier; it’s me being afraid of everything.”

Sam retook his place on the bed. Although there was no way to see outdoors, Gabriel could feel the afternoon darkening into evening. Neither of them spoke.

He was painfully aware that Sam felt familiar to him. Sam was safe; he wasn’t going to try and harm Gabriel. Somehow that knowledge made everything much more complicated - in part, Gabriel realized, because there seemed no way to explain the feeling without coming off as saccharine, puerile, or both.

Although he was no longer crying (however much he wanted to), Gabriel hoped Sam would touch him. He thought about asking and couldn’t bring himself to say a word.

After several minutes of complete silence, Gabriel spoke. “Did you fight back?”

Sam frowned. “What?”

“The hamster, the gerbil, whatever it was. Did you fight back, or was it too precious to hurt?”

“There wasn’t much I could do. It was vicious.”

“Was it? Or are you just tender-hearted?”

“Gabriel, you saw what it did to my hand.”

Gabriel glanced down at the hand that had been injured. “Yeah. I don’t know, I feel like maybe you didn’t want to hurt the little thing.”

Sam seemed amused. “Why would you say that?”

Gabriel reached out and took Sam’s hand. Sam seemed surprised, but held on firmly.

“Just because I know you,” Gabriel told him. “I know you too well.”

#supernatural #spn #fanfiction #sam winchester #gabriel #jack kline #sabriel #platonic #friendship #hurt/comfort #asmodeus #season 13 #gabriel lives #ptsd #pasf #post-asmodeus sabriel feels

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ibelieveinahappilyeverafter · 4 years ago

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Good morning, good afternoon, and good evening! I'm writing for Drarropoly for @gameofdrarry this year along with my girlfriend so I hope you guys check my stories out and have a good time reading them!

Position: The Burrow | Theme: Gryffindor.

Things are always easier in groups. Unless someone is keeping a secret.

Choose one of the following: Group Project Group Date Group Vacation

N.E.W.T.s Level: + Include non-linear storytelling. +Include the Established Relationship trope OR the Secretly Pining trope.

Min-Max Word Count: 3333-4444 words

Rating: Teen Audiences

Tags: Harry Potter, Drarry, Relationship - Drarry, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Hogwarts, Drarropoly 2.0 - A Drarry Game/Fest, secretly pining, Non-Linear Narrative, non-linear storytelling

Word Count: 3,350

Summary: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter have never gotten along as everyone in their lives will attest to. That's about to change when their so called 'friends' betray them and force them all to go on a group vacation together.

It goes better than they would have expected.

what will this change? (everything)

Harry breathed in the crisp night air sharply, collapsed on the ground and still trying to regain his breath as he shivered at the cold, wet sand pressing against his bare back as warm palms dug into his shoulders. The heat of the palms only grew more prominent as fingers grasped at his skin even harder, Harry’s attention soon shattered and shot as he felt chilled, bare thighs pressed into the skin just above his hips.

The silence of the night was only broken by crashing, breaking waves of the ocean only a few dozen feet away and the whisper-soft words of, “You’re staring.” Harry, who made absolutely no move to look away, couldn’t help the amused quirk of his lips as his hands moved. Sand still stuck to his palms, but instead they pressed into those chilled thighs, Harry feeling a thrill at the shiver that wracked through the body of Draco Malfoy.

“I could say the same thing about you, you know,” Harry finally said, only absently feeling his heart pounding away as he watched Draco’s eyes flutter, long lashes only just brushing the edges of his cheeks. “The others are probably wondering where we are by now.”

It was barely a token protest, Harry’s own eyes starting to fall shut as Draco leaned in towards him, whispering a soft, “Probably.” The word brushed against his lips, Harry panting around warm breath as those lips swayed even closer. “We should probably head back.”

“Probably,” Harry repeated, fingertips pressing into soft, cool skin. It was more effort than it should have been to cut himself off with a sharp bite of his lip, watching as Draco breathed out a long, slow breath, thighs shaking on either side of him. “Draco.”

Those lips, chapped and bitten and dry like his own, were so close. Harry could just tilt his head up the smallest amount and… Draco’s shivers echoed against him, the other’s breathing heavy and hot as his hands clutched at him even more tightly, nails scraping against his skin.

Harry bit back the sharp hiss of what was certainly not pain, instead looking up as he noticed stormy grey eyes looking into his own. They truly were a storm in their own right, swirling with magic and emotion and apologies and explanations and begging and so much. It was the most Draco had ever spoken to him and it was all said without a word.

“What will this change?” Draco’s question, soft and whispered and immediately whisked away by the summer night breeze, was the question that Harry had been avoiding thinking about — the question they had both been avoiding.

“I-” Harry shuddered as those lips were so close again, the breath they shared the exact same. Finally, miraculously, Harry managed to choke out, “I don’t know.” But… But, but, but-

Draco started to lean away, and Harry had a hand on the back of the other’s neck before he could move more than a breath away. Draco froze in his grip and Harry was overcome with the same feeling he always had when he was on the verge of doing something stupid and incredible and overwhelming.

He was standing in front of fierce flames with enough potion for only one person to pass safely through. He was speaking in a language known only to a few, ready to find the truth to the answers kept from him all year. He was staring at himself across a lake, knowing he was about to lose everything and yet safe with the knowledge he wasn’t.

It was the feeling of facing down dragons, and Death Eaters, and mermaids, and the corrupted Ministry, and Tom Riddle, and Dumbledore’s plans, and Death, and it was the feeling of not yet. I’m not ready to let go yet.

Draco was tense against him, hands shaking from where he had been trying to push himself up before Harry had pulled him back down because Harry really didn’t know what this would change in the end, but… “But isn’t it worth it to find out?”

“Is it?” A hand slipped up to press against Harry’s cheek, Draco’s gaze harsh and heavy. His eyes showed a storm that was ready to break; to rage and scream and destroy. “Is it really worth it?”

Harry was silent, watching that storm grow as excitement beat away in his chest. Finally, somehow, he managed the breath to speak, answering with a soft, “No.” Harry met Draco’s eyes, breathless as he finished, “But you are.”

The storm broke.

⁂

“Pansy, my dear, you know I care deeply for you, but are you absolutely mad?” It was a terrible enough fate that Draco had been forced into agreeing to spend a summer vacation with Hogwarts’ Golden Trio of all things, but this? This was asking too much of him. “Why can’t I simply room with Blaise? We shared a dorm for seven years!”

“But Draco, darling, Ron is rooming with Blaise on this trip, remember?” Pansy’s sickly-sweet tone was a threat just as much as it was a warning and Draco cursed the day she had made friends with Hermione bloody Granger. Granger, on her part, only seemed as pleased as Pansy, the two standing with their arms linked together and identical smiles on their faces. Bloody harpies. “And there are only a limited amount of rooms available.”

Draco opened his mouth to argue because like bloody hell that was true. Their little ‘group vacation’ was taking place at the beach house of Pansy’s aunt, and if that woman was one thing it was extravagant. Unfortunately, before Draco could craft an argument that would get him his way, Granger stepped in.

“Oh, that’s right, you were just telling me about that! Your aunt is doing renovations in most of the bedrooms here at the moment, right?” Granger was smiling but the look in her eyes was pure evil. Pansy, the little tart, seemed to get off on it, beaming.

“Right you are, darling. I’m so glad someone seems to remember the things I tell them.” Pansy snapped her gaze to Potter, who had until that point been silent. Shame it wouldn’t remain that way. “Harry, darling, you’re content sharing a room with Draco, aren’t you?” Ah, but the anger in those shimmering green eyes was always so nice to admire.

Draco had half a hope that Potter would actually throw his weight around for once and get them out of the mess they were about to be stuck in, but then he looked at Granger. Potter heaved a sigh, tone dull as he responded with defeat, “I’d be perfectly fine with it, yeah.”

“Excellent!” Pansy clapped her hands together before whisking Granger away to another part of the house to no doubt seduce her into more misdeeds. Weasley, vapid git that he was, didn’t even seem bothered by the Pansy and Granger bonding.

Instead he just gave a low whistle followed by an idiotic, “Rotten luck about the renovations, huh?”

Blaise glanced to Draco, a clear look in his eyes of, He really can’t be that stupid, can he? There’s simply no way someone can be that daft.

Draco, reasonably, turned his own look to Potter, a very, very clear, Of course he’s that bloody stupid. What do you expect? He’s friends with Potter of all people.

Potter, for one shining glorious moment, looked as if he actually regretted choosing the weasel as the one he was stuck with as a friend for the rest of his life. As it was, he sighed and turned towards the prison cell they were stuck sharing together, “Let’s just settle in. We don’t have to be in these rooms apart from when we’re sleeping.”

“That’s the part I’m worried about,” Weasley snorted, the heathen. He then glared at Draco, who made sure to give his own nasty glare back. “Perfect chance for a ferret to slit some throats-”

“Why you-!” Draco dropped the bag he had been carrying and stalked forward and so what if the girls had confiscated their wands as soon as they had arrived to teach them a lesson in ‘restraint’? Draco didn’t need magic to teach irritating little weasels a lesson-!

Blaise turned traitor and grabbed him before he could add one more murder to his long life of mistakes, sighing and half-laughing with a cheerful, “Well, this is going to be a fun trip, gentleman, don’t you think?”

“We’ve been here for two hours,” Potter said, stating the obvious as he always did. Honestly, he was good for nothing except brute strength and looking not completely bad. “I’m pretty sure you already made some blood pact with Hermione about something and Draco’s about to kill Ron.”

“Draco?” Blaise asked before Draco could because since bloody when had he been Draco to that prat? As far as he was aware, they were Malfoy and Potter to the bitter end of the world. Honestly, acting as if the two were friendly after… well, everything. “Since when has he been Draco?”

Potter looked back at Blaise and then at Draco, those bright green killing curse eyes locking with his own. There wasn’t hatred like there had been for so many years — there wasn’t even annoyance and frustration. There was- Merlin, Draco didn’t know what to call those emotions. Breathtaking, perhaps, for a start.

As Harry spoke, he didn’t look away from him. “You two may feel differently, but we’ve all lost enough after this war and fighting. I think I’ve had enough of enemies and burning bridges for a lifetime.”

With that he was turning and walking into their room, Draco’s mind spinning a million different ways a minute because that- What had that been? Was he saying that he didn’t want anything to do with Draco anymore? Was he saying he wanted more to do with Draco? Did he, perhaps- Well, did he mean… Was it possible…?

“You know,” Blaise whispered quietly, finally letting him go. “I think this little ‘vacation’ of ours just got a lot more interesting.”

⁂

Harry sighed softly against warm, pink skin, lips twitching into a grin as he felt the body pressed against his own give a small shiver, followed by a groggy, “This is a terrible idea, you know.”

“Absolutely awful,” Harry agreed, lazily shifting on the gritty, sand-covered bed before ducking down to press his lips against more of that smooth, soft skin. His tongue edged out to trace against bright red marks and slowly forming bruises. It was more than gratifying to hear Draco Malfoy give a wrecked, quiet moan that bordered on a whine. “Probably the worst idea we’ve ever had, huh?”

“The worst,” Draco agreed around a soft pant, tilting his head up to allow Harry just the access he needed to nip at already bruised skin. Harry had thought the man had been beautiful in the light of a full moon, but he was now certain that there was nothing more beautiful than Draco Malfoy groggy and half-asleep and hopelessly turned on in the early morning slips of sun that fell over their shared bed. “It’s just going to end in tragedy.”

“Mhm,” Harry hummed, kissing at the sunlight touched skin and only stopping when fingers were tangling through his hair and tugging sharply. Harry laughed but followed the pull, lips slotting easily against Draco’s own. The kiss was already dangerously familiar, as was the way Draco’s hands dropped down to the back of his neck, pressing him closer — as close as they could get. “Probably use us an example of who not to fall for for years.”

“Probably,” Draco repeated absently, those grey eyes warm and soft and still edged with sleep. “Harry…” The soft call of his name had shivers running down Harry’s back before he could even try to stop them. He was pretty sure he had never heard a better sound than Draco Malfoy calling his name like that. “It’s… It can’t be this simple.”

“Why not?” Harry knew what Draco meant. It shouldn’t be so simple for them to just fall together so easily. There should have been far more kicking and fighting and screaming. It should have taken weeks or even months to realize there was something there between them, and even longer than that to act on it. That’s how it should have gone, but… in some fucked up way, Harry was pretty sure it already had gone that way. “Why can’t it be this simple?”

Draco’s hands clenched against him, annoyance starting to filter back into his eyes as he glared at him, muttering a sharp, “You know why. I’m- I was a Death Eater and you’re- You’re Britain’s Golden Boy! You-!”

Harry cut Draco off in his new favorite way, smothering the words with a kiss that Draco slowly but surely fell into. It was not long enough, in Harry’s opinion, when Draco pulled away with a pout, “Stop that. It shouldn’t- It shouldn’t be so simple.”

“Maybe,” Harry allowed, going back to pressing soft kisses against wherever he could reach, grinning when Draco relaxed into the touches. “You wanna hear what I think, though?”

“What’s it matter what you think. You’re utterly daft,” Draco complained, tilting into the kisses before tapping at Harry’s shoulder blade, a clear message for him to continue. “Well? I’m listening, Potter.”

Harry snorted, shaking his head and pulling back. He moved a hand to cup Draco’s cheek, grinning when he saw the other’s eyes flutter shut. “I think that I’ve had well enough of the world telling us who we’re supposed to be and what we’re supposed to do. So… I gave it some thought and you wanna know the answer I came up with.”

“Mm?” Draco cracked his eyes open, seeming to almost study him before he was pressing his cheek more against Harry’s palm. “And what answer did you come up with, oh brilliant one?”

Not even trying to smother his laugh, Harry leaned forward until his forehead bumped Draco’s. The sudden heat and craving in the man’s eyes had a shiver crawling down Harry’s own spine. “I decided… that I don’t care.”

“You- What?” Draco blinked, some of that heat slipping away in favor of confusion. “What do you-”

“I mean that I don’t care what the world thinks or what it wants of me. I defeated their bloody Dark Lord, so now I’m going to do whatever I want — I’m going to chase after whatever makes me happy.” Harry ducked in to press a soft kiss to Draco’s lips, something sweet and short and simple. “And, God help me, you’re the one that makes me happy, Draco Malfoy.”

Ah, there it was. Draco finally seemed to realize what Harry had been trying to tell him all night. Honestly, he shouldn’t be surprised that Draco was immediately trying to hide his face, cheeks flushed an even brighter red than they were when Harry had him on his back and was pounding into him. “You-! You can’t just-! Bloody prat-!”

“I can do whatever I want,” Harry teased, guiding Draco closer so the man could hide his face against Harry’s chest like he so desperately wanted. Harry wasn’t too upset about it. He had a feeling he would be seeing Draco’s flushed face far more in the future. “Haven’t you heard? I’m the Chosen One.”

Harry laughed as Draco cursed and squirmed against him, doing nothing whatsoever to actually get free or move away — and, really, Harry wasn’t stupid. He knew it wasn’t that simple and that the real world was still out there waiting for them, but…

Surely it wouldn’t hurt for the two of them to be just Draco and Harry for just a bit longer. After all… they had time.

⁂

Pansy, the little harlot, had waited until Draco had taken a sip of his tea to tell him and Blaise her latest bit of news. As it was, while Draco hadn’t spitten his tea out because he was a gentleman, thank you, he did immediately start choking. Blaise didn’t even attempt to help him, in shock himself — not that Draco could blame him. It wasn’t everyday that their former best friend turned traitor was telling them that she had sold them out to Gryffindors.

“Are you bloody mental?” Blaise shook his head, paused, and then shook it again. “Is this punishment for something? Have you been imperioused?”

“It’s a vacation, Blaise,” Pansy lied to their faces, rolling her eyes as if she was in the right. “It’s not as if I’m signing you up for your deaths — besides, we’ll be going to my aunt’s beach house! Draco, darling, you love it there!”

“I do, yes,” Draco agreed, voice harsh from where he had almost died. “It just so happens that I also like it when it’s the three of us and not the three people in this world who most want me dead.”

“Honestly, Draco,” Pansy scoffed, settling back with her own cup and a disappointed cluck of her tongue. “You simply must get over this delusion that you hate Potter when we all want to know you want nothing more than for him to shag you silly-”

“Pancella-!” Draco hissed, and oh, she was never going to hear any good gossip from him ever again! “I am not going on this little suicidal mission you seem so intent on putting together with Granger of all people!”

“Hermione, darling, is perfectly pleasant.” Draco looked to Blaise, who looked just as disturbed as Draco felt over the matter. “And we agree that it’s time we put all of this school rivalry nonsense behind us and, since all of our schedules have lined up just so, we thought it would be great to vacation together!”

Blaise was the one to take up the fight, edging in with a hesitant, “Pansy, you know we love you. Truly, we do. We’ll fight any number of light-loving fools for you, but…” Blaise glanced to Draco, who made sure to show an expression that conveyed how properly upset he was with the matter. “Is this really such a good idea for all of us to go?”

“Honestly,” Pansy tsked. “Potter already agreed to the trip and you know that Weasley will do whatever Hermione asks of him-”

“He agreed?” Draco was surprised to find that he was the one who had spoken since he hadn’t actually meant to voice his question out loud, but… “Potter, knowing full well that I- we’re going to be there still agreed to go?”

Pansy looked at him, something like sympathy warming her expression. It was far worse than any mocking she could have done. “Actually, Hermione mentioned to me that he hadn’t wanted to go at all until he knew you- Sorry, ‘we’ were going.”

“Of course,” Draco scoffed, looking away sharply. “The fool probably just jumped at the chance of tormenting me, no doubt.” Still, though… For a moment, just a moment, Draco had heard Potter was going and he felt something like…

A fool. Draco was an absolute fool who hoped for things that would never happen far too easily. Flights of fancy, as his mother would call them. He had no reason whatsoever to agree to this trip, and, for as much as Pansy seemed to believe she was in charge, she couldn’t make him go along with it.

“So, then.” Pansy sounded close to laughing, Draco firm in keeping his gaze on his empty tea cup, faint memories of tea leaves and their meanings stirring at the back of his mind. “Do you want to go on a vacation with us, Draco?”

She couldn’t make him go. Nothing would change. They would never get along. This was doomed to end in disaster. Draco was not going to go and simply make things worse. He was going to say no. He was going to, but…

Well…

“You know, Pansy, dear… A little vacation to the beach sounds lovely right now.”

Surely, just this once, the world could keep spinning in the face of Draco Malfoy’s hope.

#harry potter #drarry #draco malfoy #drarropoly #my writing #my moodboards #original

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wickedsrest-rp-archive · 4 years ago

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Name: Griffin Gage Species: Zombie Occupation: Attendant at Quarter Age: 72 years old Played By: Lora Face Claim: Ryan Gosling

“It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything.”

Griffin Gage’s father had been a soldier in World War II, his mother a midwife, and somewhere between his touches with death and her touches with life, they fell in love amidst the heat of a Los Angeles summer. The house was quiet growing up but not in a suffocating way. Not entirely. It was a house of quiet, comfortable understanding and the thrifted television on down low. As loud as he wanted to be, he tempered himself. As comfortably quiet as the house could be, it was lonely. And there were expectations to be met. That changed the day that Valerie and Victor Gage were born and noise flooded the house. There was a whole world out there and he didn’t know a whole heck of a lot about it but he’d share what he knew with his brother and sister. He had a responsibility to them and that was a ‘for eternity’ kind of thing. As much of a good brother as he tried to be, he wasn’t a perfect son. Schoolyard bruises and classroom absences marked otherwise decent reports. He filled his essays with hopes and thoughts that he hoped would carry on but damn if he could sit still long enough to stay in a plastic seat.

And he did. He would go out at night and come back with money, a little bloodied, but his all the same. If it meant that Valerie and Victor could reach up into a sky full of stars and grab what they wanted, he could tolerate the disappointed eyes of his parents. As it turned out, being a well-intentioned idealist with a penchant for fist fights didn’t help pay the bills. He took odd jobs and it was on one of those odd jobs that he had been shot. Weirder still, he had been bitten of all things. Right on his side. So had his friend Johnny before they got the guy off him. But he didn’t die from either so he kept on keeping on, doing what he could for his family from his cheap apartment that he shared with his old friends Johnny and Andy. He went to the protests of the 70s where he could, tried to fight the good fight. Tried to be a good brother and son. Didn’t hold it against himself when he didn’t quite reach the bar. He didn’t worry about the scar that always seemed angry or even the fact Valerie and Victor started to share that same withering look his parents had.

One night, Johnny came back to the apartment looking like death. He smelled like it too. After helping him get cleaned up and sorted, Griffin asked him what had happened. Laughed a little when Johnny said that he had died. People didn’t just die and come back. They weren’t in a Romero movie. Johnny looked fine. Sure, it was weird that he got a little bitey around people and threw up Griffin’s food that he usually liked, but maybe he was just going through some things. Andy had supposedly upped and left town, according to Johnny. It seemed they were all going through things. More similar than Griffin realized.

Understanding can come about in the strangest of places. Fishtailing at ninety miles an hour down Route 66, the newest Dio album shouting through the speakers of an old Benelli, he had a feeling he wouldn’t make it home in time for dinner. Griffin Gage’s death woke him up outside of a roadside diner, covered in his own blood and engine oil. He had been starving when he woke up, half out of his mind and when he wandered in, it wasn’t the special he went for. According to the reports, there were roughly twelve people in the diner. It was hard to tell through all the blood and body parts. As Griffin sat on the side of the highway, he only had one haphazard thought that crept in through the blood. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his mom.

She fainted at the sight of him while his siblings cried and his father loaded the rifle he hadn’t touched in years. They kept him to the front hall as he tried to explain what had happened. Why there was blood on him. A shot to the heart that should have killed him only left him standing there as he tried to fight the trembling hunger. His family wasn’t seeing him. He wasn’t Griffin or Grif. He was ‘monster’. As far as they believed, their brother and son were dead.

So if he wasn’t Griffin anymore, why stay? Johnny knew what had happened the moment Griffin walked through the door, covered in days old blood and smelling like death the way he had been. It all went back to the night they got bit during that one job. It took them a while but they managed to find the guy that had pieced their lives apart. They were dead but not. Welcome to the dead zone, the guy had said to them, teeth bloody from a meal. Being dead forever wasn’t a good look for him, Johnny said, and he left the next day. Alone and without a home, Griffin had nothing other than being alive when he shouldn’t have been and the anger that followed, so he clung to it. Held onto it through the neon and synthpop of the 80s before he cut out of Los Angeles for good.

Death, Griffin found, was lonelier than life. Throughout the mid to late 90s and early 2000s, he tried to make some dead end friends, maybe even a new family, wherever he could in a small town outside of Los Angeles. Few took to it, most didn’t. And the basement he rented out was getting busier as his friends began to get rowdy. The first slayer had come about because of his mother. The second one his father. And when they passed, Valerie and Victor took up the reins of trying to take care of Griffin. They couldn’t do it themselves. Griffin guessed it stained the family to have a living dead brother. Each time he was made to run, more of him died. Talking didn’t matter anymore. Even his friends didn’t listen to him. So when the noise in the basement got too much and his heart wasn’t in it anymore, he moved on. Or was forcibly removed by slayers as they dealt with his mess. Whatever. Attempts on an undead life can make a man bitter and as he set out on his bike for the east coast, that bitterness road sidecar.

Character Facts:

Personality: Idealistic, Jaded, Protective, Calculating, Patient, Distrusting, Personable enough, Detached, Turbulent

He’s unquestionably a child of the 50s, 60s and 70s since his style says as much. He never grew out of it and well, it’s not like he’s getting any older anytime soon. Although, he has become pretty partial to tracksuits lately.He has an in-depth knowledge of most of the arcade cabinets at Quarter and actually doesn’t mind telling people the history of them or taking the time to play a couple himself as he’s surprisingly good with the kids.

He lives in The Bend and while he has a spacious basement yet again, he hasn’t decided just yet if he wants to try again or not with another family. He’s on the fence about it.

Even though he’s grown jaded after being spurned by his living family and then hunted by slayers, he has his moments of levity and isn’t opposed to lending a helping hand.

White Crest has been his home for roughly two years now and he doesn’t really know much about the supernatural outside of the undead types.

He’s a self-taught mechanic and is mostly familiar with older, ‘vintage’ vehicles.

#retired

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raleighcarrera · 5 years ago

Text

honey & the moon

ride or die | colt kaneko x mc (ellie wheeler)

~20.3k words | E (18+) - graphic violence, explicit sex, etc.

a werewolf au following mtv’s teen wolf lore because logan is an alpha werewolf without a pack and ellie is his brilliant human best friend who helps him out of sticky situations and when they’re not fighting monsters in their hometown or working to graduate high school they’re trying to decide whether or not they should join colt’s alpha pack of hotties, y’know?

“i’m sorry, did you just say --”

“an alpha pack,” logan repeated gravely. he nodded, swallowing hard. ellie could feel how she was gaping at him, her mouth opened as wide as it would go.

“as in... a pack of werewolves,” ellie started slowly, “but all of them... are alphas.”

“right.”

two fingers lifted to rub at her temple. “and they came... to your lacrosse practice.”

“yep. well -- one of them.”

“today.”

“yes.”

her head bobbed with a nod as she, too, took it all in. then, she opened her mouth and screamed.

the door of her bedroom banged open abruptly. her dad rushed in, breathless from racing up the stairs. “what’s going on in here? is everything alright?”

logan was staring at her, eyes wide with concern. right. detective wheeler still didn’t know about the whole... werewolf thing.

“sorry, dad,” ellie explained weakly. “i saw a spider.”

“sorry, mr. wheeler. el -- you have to show me where it is next time, if you want me to kill it.” logan smiled politely.

“jesus, ellie. don’t scare me like that.” her dad stepped forward and ruffled her hair, shooting her a stern look. “i’m headed to the station. just call if you two need anything.”

“of course, dad. be safe, okay?” as soon as the door to her room swung shut again, the panicked look on her face was back. logan held up a hand as soon as she opened her mouth, before she could say a word.

“okay, don’t freak out! i can see you freaking out.”

“an alpha pack, logan!”

“i know.” he winced, lifting a hand and pushing it through his hair. “i know, it’s insane. which is why we can’t afford to have you have a meltdown right now.”

she really, really wanted to have a meltdown, though. “well -- what did they want?”

ellie didn’t need to be a werewolf to read his tells. logan was her best friend, and she knew his body language better than anyone else’s. her eyes narrowed as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, shuffling his feet back and forth.

“logan,” she repeated, “what did they want?”

“well...” he cleared his throat, avoiding her eyes. “the thing is that... they sort of -- want me to join them.”

it felt like her eyes were going to bug out of her head. “what?”

“i know, it sounds insane. but -- they’re having, like, a pack meeting or something? on saturday. and they want me to go, but -- you know you’re like my werewolf guru. so i was really hoping... that you’d come with me.”

logan’s voice was pleading -- he was giving her the puppy-dog eyes. ellie frowned at him. “logan,” she sighed, “we don’t know anything about them! they could be dangerous. we can’t just -- go there.”

already, her mind was racing a mile a minute. in all the dusty old books she’d read since logan was turned, she didn’t recall ever seeing anything about an alpha pack. there was hardly enough time to do any real research before saturday, and it wasn’t exactly like this whole thing came with a training manual -- so, your best friend is a werewolf? here are twenty scenarios you’ll be facing before your high school graduation.

“i know, okay? but...” both of his shoulders lifted with a shrug. “the guy kind of made it seem like i didn’t have a choice. and i can’t do this without you, ellie.”

she flopped back onto her bed with a groan. he was right. logan really couldn’t do any of this without her. over the last three years, they’d fought their way through more supernatural messes than she’d ever thought possible. ellie found herself spending every waking hour not at school or cramming for it consuming magical lore that she was only sure was true less than half the time, pursuing shady leads in weird libraries across california, all in the hopes of learning something that would help them, someday.

the night he was bitten, they’d been out in the woods together -- logan had suggested it as a way to cheer her up after a failed test. the clearing they visited frequently had always had the best view of the stars, something that never failed to calm them both down when life felt overwhelming.

though he’d always assured her it wasn’t her fault, ellie couldn’t help but feel responsible for what’d happened to him, and all the problems that eventually followed. as it was, she and logan went on to save each other’s lives at least a thousand times over. she was the only thing that helped him through his first few shifts, and he was always, always, always her best friend, even before everything -- maybe the only real one she’d ever had.

now it was three years later, and she knew way more about werewolves than she’d ever expected to. since logan was bitten, their sleepy town of lake forest, california had undergone an awakening -- a chasm in the woods near the very spot they’d been exploring that split wide open and filled the city with all sorts of insane magic that the two of them always seemed to be stuck cleaning up. even though she had no idea how, ellie was pretty sure that was somehow her fault, too.

the least she could do now was pay him back for all he’d done to help by continuing to be the brains of their operation. “they’re going to kill us,” she moaned, sparing a brief, fleeting and ridiculous thought to what she should wear.

“i’m not going to let anyone kill us.” right. that was his role -- confidence, brute strength, being the sturdiest shoulder to cry on she’d ever met in her life. she had no idea what she could ever do without him. “so -- is that a yes?”

“ugh.” she rolled up to sit on the edge of the bed again, reaching in her nightstand for the journal she used to take notes on everything weird that ever happened to them. logan looked absurdly hopeful, perched in her desk chair. “just -- give me all the details you have before i change my mind.”

“huh.” she frowned at him as she put the car in park on the street, squinting up at the house they were stopped in front of suspiciously. it looked... normal enough. it was in a regular neighborhood, surrounded by plenty of other... normal looking houses. “are you sure we’re in the right place?”

“what were you expecting?” logan asked, sounding amused, “dracula’s lair?”

ellie rolled her eyes at him. “if dracula’s real, i’m resigning as your werewolf handler. i bet he’d at least pay.” but it was throwing her off a little, how far this seemed from what she’d been expecting. her stomach twisted with unease as she glanced up at the house again. “do you think they can hear us?”

as if on cue, the front door swung open. a young woman was standing in the doorway, smirking at them. ellie felt her cheeks flush. damn werewolf hearing.

“well -- i guess this is it,” logan declared, sliding out of the passenger seat without hesitation. ellie sighed, slamming the car door and following closely behind him. she tried not to look nervous when they made their way up the front path.

“hey.” logan greeted the girl who’d opened the door with a sense of calm she wished more than anything he could teach her how to exude. over the years, it’d been just one of his annoying quirks she couldn’t get to rub off on her.

the stranger looked them both up and down. her eyes shifted from logan to ellie, and then she grinned sharply. “awwww. you brought a human.”

they both bristled. “my name is ellie,” she cut in, her nerves giving way to annoyance. why was every supernatural she met always so fucking rude?

logan reached out for her wrist and tapped twice, their universal signal for trouble. okay. so the rude lady was one of them -- part of the alpha pack. that was fine. she’d hardly be the first alpha werewolf ellie ever mouthed off to before.

the tension gave way as the woman looked down at her and laughed. “cute. this should be interesting.” she surveyed them both for another moment and then inclined her head down the hallway. “follow me.”

ellie shot logan a look as they both followed her down the hall, but he only shrugged one shoulder at her. at this point in their friendship, they were perfect experts at communicating with just a look, and she rolled her eyes at him, knowing he didn’t see anything wrong with or off about the situation so far. this was why she always had to be on her guard -- logan was way too trusting. one side of his mouth lifted in a slight smile.

from in front of them, the woman asked, “do you two always do that?”

ellie startled. “what?”

“forget it. in here.”

there was music playing in the room somewhere, soft and slow. ellie frowned as she looked around, again expecting... something much different than what she saw, which was a simple study with a desk, some arm chairs and a pool table, where two incredibly well-dressed women were playing each other. whoever had solids was winning by a lot.

every set of eyes in the room landed on her when they walked in. defensively, she folded her arms underneath her chest. typical. this was how everyone they encountered always looked at her -- like she didn’t belong, just because she was human. if they only knew how many dangerous situations she’d gotten logan out of, how many times they’d saved the stupid city and, frankly, all of orange county --

from beside her, the werewolf woman who’d opened the door for them laughed. “amp down, tiny. they’re just surprised, that’s all.”

her cheeks flushed. she hated when logan did that, let alone -- strangers. her private emotions were meant to be just that: private.

“she really doesn’t like that,” logan remarked helpfully from her other side. “i try to just tune the way she smells out.”

the woman shrugged. “well, she smells good.”

“excuse me!” ellie could feel her cheeks burning bright red. “i’m right here.”

the two women by the pool table had abandoned their cues and were now starting to walk over. they smiled at logan, stepping closer to shake his hand. “logan, right? we’ve heard a lot about you.”

they were both gorgeous. logan smiled charmingly as he shook both of their hands. “that’s me, and this is ellie.”

the blonde woman eyed her with interest. “really -- how does that work?”

“well, we’ve kind of been best friends our whole lives,” logan answered obliviously as the other woman -- taller, with dark hair -- moved to shake ellie’s hand, too.

“nice to meet you both. i’m ximena.” she nodded at the blonde woman. “this is ingrid. and i see you already met mona.” ellie twisted around to look at the woman who’d answered the door for her. she only stared back at the both of them.

“we’re just waiting on colt, he should --”

the door from the patio swung open and a boy who couldn’t have been much older than she or logan strolled in, a motorcycle helmet held under his arm. he looked annoyed. “sorry i’m late, there was a shitload of traffic on the...”

he trailed off into nothing. ellie recognized exactly what he was doing as soon as his head cocked to the side. logan always did the same thing whenever she switched perfumes or someone new had been in her bedroom. he was scenting the air -- probably wondering who let the human in.

his eyes locked on hers immediately. “who’re you?”

seriously, so rude. ellie shot logan a look he’d seen many times before. do they not teach manners in werewolf school?

he stepped in smoothly. “hey, this is ellie. she’s my --”

“this meeting isn’t for girlfriends,” colt snapped coldly, looking her up and down. ellie huffed, annoyance rolling off of her in waves. she could feel logan tense beside her, but he was perfectly calm when he spoke up again.

“ellie’s my best friend. we work together on everything. she knows everything there is to know about... werewolf stuff.” she turned to look at him and found his gaze firm. “we’re a package deal.”

judging by the little nod logan gave her, he could smell how warm the sentiment made her. but that was logan -- always sticking up for her, always finding some way to make her smile. even when they were in some ridiculous situation like this.

ellie looked back at colt and found him glaring at the both of them. he looked like he’d just bitten into a lemon. she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “fine,” he said begrudgingly, “i guess she can stay.”

it was less awkward than she’d expected it to be. the tension from their introductions faded and logan charmed the alphas pretty much immediately, in that same easygoing way he always did. the girls thought he was just about the greatest thing they’d ever seen -- not that ellie blamed them. in her short time dealing with werewolves, ellie had come to realize logan was a rare breed. he was the real deal: honest, loyal, brave, compassionate -- driven to do the right thing, even when it usually spelled trouble for them. he was a far cry from the mess he’d been when he was first turned, just a few years ago. he was a true alpha -- he hadn’t gotten his status by killing or taking, he’d earned it.

she doubted the same could be said for anyone else in the room they were in.

mostly, colt and the others seemed curious about all they’d seen in lake forest since the awakening. they grilled logan with questions on every ridiculous creature they’d fought over the last three years, though more often than not, logan kept having to turn to her to have ellie fill in the details, which she did with precision, gritting her teeth against the way the rest of the werewolves kept staring at her in surprise as she described their escapades.

logan was halfway through a story he’d mixed up with another when she shook her head. “no,” she interrupted, “that was when we fought the kanima. you’re confusing it with the harpies. the kanima couldn’t be in water, remember?”

“oh, you’re right.” logan nodded, ignoring the way everyone was looking at them both. “did you bring your book? i think it’d help jog my memory.” his grin was sheepish when he turned it on the other alphas, rubbing at the back of his neck. “it’s been a crazy three years. it’s hard to keep it all straight.”

ellie pulled her notebook out of her purse, flipping through the pages. from across the table, on the other couch, colt snorted. “what is that?”

she glared at him. “i keep notes on everything we encounter, not that it’s any of your business.”

“ellie’s an amazing researcher,” logan declared proudly, seemingly thinking he was helping. colt and ellie continued to glare at each other. “i think she’s read literally every book on the supernatural there is. she also keeps an encyclopedia of terms and stuff we haven’t seen yet, in case of emergencies.”

colt smirked condescendingly. “sounds resourceful.”

“actually, it is,” she bit back, snapping her notebook closed, “and if you’re going to make fun of it, don’t come asking us for help the next time you run into a nogitsune and can’t get it to leave.”

mona’s eyebrows lifted high. “you two fought off a nogitsune?”

logan winced. ellie folded her arms under her chest and looked away. “it sort of... possessed her, for a little bit.” he bumped his shoulder into ellie’s, and she softened, looking back at him with a tiny smile. “we got her back, though. ellie’s real tough.”

her eyes flashed gratefully at him. logan’s answering grin was wide, all teeth. don’t mention it.

she turned to look defiantly back at colt, and found him studying the two of them thoughtfully. the expression on his face was mostly neutral, though she was sure she could read disgust in the twist of his mouth.

when he spoke, his voice was slow. “mona... why don’t you show logan the rest of the house? i’d like to talk to ellie a little more about her diary.”

she rolled her eyes. so -- now he was sexist, too? if logan had been the one keeping incredibly detailed notes on their adventures, she highly doubted he’d be calling it a diary.

logan was stiff beside her. “that’s okay,” he said evenly, “we can go over it together.”

colt smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. there seemed to be a challenge in his gaze. “relax, i’m not gonna hurt her. i just want to talk to her.” colt turned towards her and fixed her with a stare so intense it made her freeze in place. “that’s alright, isn’t it?”

logan’s obvious anxiety drew her back to him. they locked eyes, and he silently held her gaze. she was sure he was doing what he always did, listening to her heartbeat. after a moment, he nodded. “okay. a quick tour sounds fun.”

he stood up, and she watched everyone leave the room, until it was just her and colt, who stood, too. “let’s talk in my office,” he said, in a way that didn’t leave room for an argument, “we’ll have more privacy there.”

she didn’t bother pretending like she wasn’t looking around when he shut the door behind him. ellie’s eyes swept the study, cataloging everything she could see with interest. the books in the shelves lining his walls were almost enough to make her drool -- too bad they were wasted on such an asshole. she’d never give him the satisfaction of letting him know she’d love to sort through them.

her eyes came to rest on the line of his back as he strolled to the desk and poured himself a drink. “want one?”

ellie grimaced, eyeing the little purple flowers floating in the decanter. she hated the taste of wolfsbane. “no thanks.”

colt sat in the chair behind his desk and gestured for her to sit in the one in front of it. ellie ignored him, still strolling slowly around his office, looking thoughtfully at everything from the carpet to the artwork hung on the walls. “so,” she started, “how long have you been a werewolf?”

“i was born one.” she could feel his eyes following her as she scanned the works on his bookshelf again from up close, making a mental note of the titles that stuck out to her.

“how long have you been an alpha?”

“five years.” he didn’t elaborate further. she stepped closer to his desk, though her eyes didn’t stray from the spines of the books.

“who’d you have to kill?”

he didn’t hesitate to answer. “my dad.”

ellie twisted to look at him over her shoulder, her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “seriously?”

colt shrugged, bringing the glass in his hands to his lips. “he killed my mom.”

“that’s... heavy.” she slowed to a stop in front of his desk, still not taking the seat he’d indicated. “so... why an alpha pack?”

colt shrugged again. “why not?” ellie leveled him with an unimpressed look, and this time he continued. “you know how dangerous it is for people like us. logan’s done well for himself, but there’s strength in numbers. if you two keep going the way you are now, it’s only a matter of time before another alpha challenges him. he needs a pack.” he eyed her from behind his glass, and then amended, “a real pack.”

ellie planted her hands on her hips. “you mean you? look -- we’re not stupid. i know you only want him because he’s a true alpha. and you’re after his power, like everyone else. but logan is a good person. all he cares about is doing the right thing. and i’m not going to let you manipulate him into being someone he’s not, just so you can use him to beef up your arsenal.”

colt’s eyes flashed. in a nanosecond he was up from his desk, and backed her against the wall. ellie gasped as he crowded in close. “what’re you doing? back off.”

“not so brave without your guard dog here, are you?” he sneered at her, actually laughing when she lifted her hands to push ineffectually at his shoulders. “your self-righteous bullshit is all well and good while you’re taking down harpies in lake forest. but you two have no idea what’s actually out there. and sooner or later, you’re both going to realize i’m right. joining this pack is logan’s only option.”

his eyes were blazing, awfully intense as they swept ellie’s face. she shoved him again, but this time he moved, shaking his head as he walked calmly back to his desk. “he values your opinion. you should let him know what you think.”

she was flushed again. “i think you’re an asshole.” she turned to leave.

colt smirked at her. she did her best to cover up her emotions in the way she’d been practicing with logan, and was gratified when he narrowed his eyes. “maybe,” he said finally, “but i’m right.” he set his empty glass back down on the desk. “and i’m patient. i’ll wait as long as it takes for you to see reason.”

ellie strode to the door and flung it open, startling when she saw logan just in front of it, out of breath like he’d run back across the house. “jesus, you scared me,” he said, reaching out to grab her shoulders, looking her over for any signs of distress. “i couldn’t hear your heartbeat.”

colt appeared from behind her shoulder. “sorry. this room’s soundproof.” logan looked back and forth between the two of them, still glancing her over. his nose wrinkled, and he turned his gaze on colt warily. ellie blushed to the roots of her hair as she realized she must smell like him, now, from where he’d pressed her in against the bookshelves.

she shook her head at logan, who arched an eyebrow as if to let her know that he wouldn’t forget to ask her about this later. “i’ll walk you guys out,” colt said, breaking the sudden quiet.

they stepped silently into the foyer. colt held his hand out to logan. “listen, why don’t you come around next week after school? we do most of our... group stuff in the afternoons. you can see what it’s really like out here, and we can talk some more.” without even having to look at him, ellie knew he was already considering it. there was a pause, and then colt said, “your bodyguard can come, too.”

ellie stayed resolutely silent beside logan, watching colt curiously. she wondered what he was playing at, but he kept smiling that weird smile -- the one that looked more like a threat. “sure,” logan said finally, annoying people-pleaser that he was. one of these days his politeness was seriously going to get them killed. “sounds fun.”

no amount of nagging could talk logan out of going back to the house after school on monday, so that was how ellie found herself sitting outside on the alpha pack’s back porch, working through her calculus homework while the rest of the wolves ran around in the backyard.

it was almost nice -- logan had never known any other werewolves who were actually kind to him before. most of the creatures they encountered in lake forest were looking to kill them or some other innocent people, so he’d hardly gotten the how-to manual ellie had been sorely hoping for, when he first turned. out here, around other people like him, he seemed... lighter, somehow. more carefree.

then colt sat down on the porch next to her. “don’t you have something else you could be doing?” she asked, without looking up from her text book. she was almost done with her problem set.

“is it so wrong if i want to get to know you better?” his voice had a carefully manufactured tone of innocence. she rolled her eyes.

“it is, because that’s not why you’re here. you want something. so please just spit it out so i can get back to my homework.”

she glanced over at him, then, and found colt already looking at her, clearly annoyed. he pursed his lips, seemingly weighing his options, and then sighed. “did he... say anything to you? about his decision?”

ellie laughed, turning back to her notebook. “i can try slipping him a note, if you want? ‘do you like colt as more than a friend, check yes or no’ --”

“forget it. you’re impossible.” she looked back at him just in time to see his eyes flash red -- so quickly she might’ve missed it otherwise. it felt very, very different than any number of times she’d seen logan do it before.

“you don’t scare me,” ellie said.

colt smirked at her. “that’s not what your pulse says.”

true, her heartbeat was going faster. ellie rolled her eyes at him. “don’t be nosy.” she turned her gaze resolutely back to her calculus textbook, forcing herself to keep her eyes on the paper.

colt leaned in a little closer. “but you don’t smell scared.”

she could feel her cheeks flush. “stop it. i hate that.”

he laughed. “you and logan are practically joined at the hip, and you hate being read? how does that work?”

“logan’s a nice person,” she said pointedly, “he ignores it.”

the sound of his scoff made her lift her eyes curiously. “unless his nose is broken, i’m not sure how anyone could ignore that. you reek. it’s unbearable.”

she blinked. “excuse me?”

“at first i thought you were projecting, but since you hate everyone else knowing how you feel, i guess you’re not.” he wasn’t looking at her -- his gaze was staring out at the backyard, where the rest of the alphas were talking to logan.

she frowned. logan had never said anything about the way she smelled before. “is it... bad?”

colt shook his head. “nah.” when he didn’t elaborate, her frown deepened.

ellie drew in a breath and decided to change the subject. “so... if logan decides to join your pack, what happens next? is there some kind of... initiation?”

“what, like group sex?” he grinned widely at her. “i bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“no!” she exclaimed, reaching out and whacking his shoulder. “that’s not what i meant.” her face was hot with an undeniable blush.

colt laughed at her again. “you two haven’t... done anything, to make it official? being pack, i mean.”

she shrugged. “everything i found online said stuff about biting. logan never wanted to risk it. he said we were pack way before any of this mess happened, anyway.” and she’d been inclined to agree with him.

when ellie turned back towards colt, she found him already staring at her. his gaze was indecipherable. “it’s amazing you two are still alive,” he said finally, “flying blind like you are.”

“hey, we do alright.” her voice was a mix of defensive and proud. they’d figured out a lot together, after all.

colt slowly shook his head. “i guess you never needed it. pack dynamics are all about protection. and you smell so much like alpha werewolf i wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole, if i ran into you somewhere outside of this.”

ellie was surprised again. logan had never mentioned her smelling like him before, but he was a hugger -- always lingering, rubbing his palms over the sleeves of her jackets, laying in her bed when he came over. huh. “i smell like logan?”

“you smell like you two spend all of your free time rolling around together in a pile of his dirty clothes.” ellie looked down at her own shirt, her brow furrowing. she’d never noticed that before.

“logan never said anything. but i guess we do spend a lot of time together.”

colt shrugged lazily. “he probably likes it. even if he doesn’t want to fuck you, it’s instinct to want to have a pack, and to protect that pack. i’d wager smelling like him has kept you out of a lot of trouble.”

ellie gaped at him. before she could say a word, he stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. “i’ll leave you to it.” colt nodded down at her textbook and walked off down the stairs, heading over towards the group.

logan waited until they were almost all the way back to lake forest before he said, “so...”

she sighed. “i still don’t like it.”

“i know. but?”

“but... i guess they’re growing on me,” ellie admitted begrudgingly, shaking her head at the sight of logan’s smile. “i know you like them. i just think we need to be careful.”

“definitely,” he agreed, nodding. he still looked pretty excited. “i’m not saying i’m ready to make my decision. but... i think we could keep hanging out over there, see how things go. i think they like you, too.”

ellie laughed. “really? i think they tolerate me because of you.”

“nah. the girls were totally grilling me about you all day! i don’t think any of them have any human friends.”

“maybe they were checking to make sure you’re single,” she pointed out fairly, thinking of the way they’d all seemed pretty enamored by him. “colt said we basically smell like we’re sleeping together 24/7.”

logan jerked forward abruptly as she slowed the car to a stop at a red light. he coughed. “he said that?”

“uh huh,” ellie confirmed, pursing her lips as she recalled their conversation. “how come you never told me i smell so much like you? he said it’s... really noticeable.”

logan shrugged. “i guess i never thought about it before. you always smelled like me, even when i first turned. and i spend so much time at your house... we kind of just have one smell, at this point.”

“well -- it seemed to bother him,” she pressed thoughtfully, thinking of the scowl on his lips. “he said it was really strong.”

“really?” logan questioned, “that’s weird. i’ve never noticed you smelling... more or less than anyone else. most people just kind of smell... like themselves, you know?”

“no,” she laughed, “but i get it.”

“the only person i ever remember smelling really strongly was jessica valenti, last year. she’s the reason i failed british lit.”

“she’s the reason you failed brit lit?” ellie repeated, her voice climbing with disbelief, “i don’t think so. you were obsessed with her, but...”

her voice trailed off, the words dying in her throat. logan had a pretty monumental crush on jessica valenti. for the entirety of their junior year, she was all he ever thought or talked about.

“uh oh. what’s that look for?” logan asked warily. “i can hear you thinking.”

“you can’t hear me thinking,” she dismissed, pulling the car to a slow stop in front of her house. her dad’s cruiser was in the driveway. “your hearing’s not that good. c’mon, let’s see what mess he made for dinner. thank god it’s real housewives night -- i need a break from werewolf stuff.”

“me, too,” he agreed with a groan, standing and stretching when he slid out of the jeep. ellie knocked into him as they rushed up the front steps together, their shoulders bumping playfully. if anyone could distract her from her swirling thoughts, it was logan -- and andy cohen, of course.

logan had lacrosse practice on tuesday and wednesday, so they didn’t head back to the house until thursday. colt seemed on edge when they arrived, but he left ellie alone for a few hours to study while the rest of the pack talked, somewhere far off in the backyard.

once she was certain she knew the material for her anatomy exam inside and out, ellie put her books back in her bag and wandered over to see what everyone was up to. when she was still a few yards away in the grass, logan lifted his head and smiled at her.

“hey. wanna race?”

“no way, cheater. you never play fair.”

“it’s not my fault!” he insisted, which was true. logan always started out with the best of intentions, fully planning to use only his human speed. then he started losing, and without fail, he always cheated.

“actually,” colt spoke up, the sound of his voice catching her attention. ellie turned and looked at him, meeting his eyes with surprise. “i wanted to show you something. do you mind?”

for once he wasn’t being outwardly rude, so -- “sure thing.” he turned and headed back to the house. she followed him, trying to pretend like she didn’t notice the way everyone was staring as they went.

“he’s really concerned that i’m going to kill you,” colt remarked absently as they stepped back into the house. he was heading towards his office again. it sounded like he thought logan was being funny.

“well -- are you going to kill me?”

“i’m hurt that you would even ask me that,” colt said, though he was smirking obnoxiously. she rolled her eyes at him.

“you are bringing me to your soundproof room,” she pointed out.

“only because this is where your present is.” he held the door open for her expectantly, even when surprise obviously colored her face.

“my present?” this time, she walked to the chair in front of his desk and sat down. instead of taking the seat behind it, colt sat on the edge of the desk, right in front of her. their legs brushed.

he reached behind himself and presented her with an old book. “here. i was going through some things and found it. thought you might find it useful.”

ellie opened it and flipped through the pages. well -- it was in english, which was a start. most of the texts she’d found on her research tour of the weirdest libraries in california only had things to offer in latin. “what is it?”

“werewolf history.” her eyes lit up as she thumbed through the book carefully. finally, an faq for this disaster. colt hesitated, and then said, “it was my mom’s.”

ellie’s expression softened as she looked up at him. “oh. i -- thank you. this is really nice.” her teeth dug into her bottom lip. “you don’t want it?”

he shook his head. “i was born this way. i already know everything there is to know. you guys will get much more use out of it.” he looked down at where she was hugging the book to her chest, and smiled. for the first time, it wasn’t that threatening smile, but something... gentler. “she’d want you to have it.”

“well... thanks,” ellie said again, her voice slow. her expression split into an honest look of gratitude.

“you’re welcome.” he looked cautiously... pleased. “you know you can come in here whenever you want, right? and read whatever. i haven’t looked through this shit in years. if you find something you want -- then be my guest. seriously.”

“really?” she questioned, looking around at the bookshelves again. she was trying not to show how excited his offer made her, but judging by his laugh, she didn’t think she’d managed it.

“yeah,” colt shrugged. “if you guys are going to be hanging out here... i want you to have someplace you feel comfortable. no one will bother you in here.”

“right,” she teased playfully, “while you guys are having group sex.”

“oh, we’d never leave you out of group sex,” he returned, his grin stretching widely. he appeared almost impressed by her joke.

ellie laughed, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. it seemed like there was more to him than she’d thought, after all. maybe he was actually a decent person.

colt cleared his throat. he nodded at the book in her hands. “so... you think logan will like that?”

“yeah,” ellie nodded. “he’s never really had... any other werewolves who’ve been friendly to him around before. there’s a lot i’m sure he wants to talk about with someone who’s been there. i mean -- we obviously talk, but... it’s not the same, you know?”

colt nodded, folding his arms across his chest. ellie looked slowly down at the book in her hands, an unpleasant thought suddenly dawning on her.

“is that why you gave this to me? so i’d talk you up to logan?” her cheeks flushed an angry red. when she met colt’s eyes again, he didn’t deny it -- he didn’t say anything, actually, and she knew he loved arguing. ellie stood up abruptly. “ugh. just when i start to think you might actually have some redeeming qualities.”

she glared at him, planting one hand on her hip. the other continued to hug the book to her chest. “you can’t convince him to join you by trying to win me over. we’re people -- not possessions. if you want him to like you guys, try being honest for once. leave me out of it.”

colt’s eyes narrowed at her, but he didn’t stop her from storming out of his office and out into the backyard. he didn’t follow her, either.

logan jogged over as soon as she stopped on the porch. “hey, what’s wrong?”

she shook her head. “nothing. are you ready to go?”

logan looked over her shoulder, squinting into the house. “did he do something to you?”

“no,” she murmured, “i’m just tired. come on.”

she waited in the car while he said goodbye to everyone. as soon as they pulled away from the curb, logan inched closer from the passenger seat. “look, i know you hate when i do this, but you smell really upset. do you want to talk about it?”

her grip tightened on the steering wheel. “not really.”

“well -- if colt did something to upset you, i’ll talk to him,” logan offered earnestly. “what’d he give you, anyway?”

ellie sighed, reaching into the backseat for the book. she dropped it in logan’s lap. “werewolf history book. it’s mostly for you, but -- i’ll read it and give you the highlights.”

“sweet.” ellie could hear the grin in his voice as he flipped through it. she kept her eyes resolutely on the road, even when they slowed to a stop at a light. “but, seriously. what’d he say that upset you?”

“nothing. i’m just stressed out about my anatomy exam.” she glanced over at logan and found him giving her a look she knew well. it said i know you’re lying, and i also know that you hate when i listen to your heartbeat to see if you’re lying.

“okay,” logan sighed finally, when she refused to give in. “don’t tell me. it’s not like we’re lifelong best friends, or anything. two people who never keep secrets from each other. two people who swore on a spit handshake to tell each other everything, no matter what --”

“okay,” she laughed, “jesus, fine.” ellie bit her bottom lip. “but it’s stupid.”

“ellie. do you know how many stupid things i’ve said to you over the course of our friendship? come on.”

he had a point. “well... i thought he was being nice to me -- on purpose. but he just wants me to talk him up to you. i think he thinks i’ll be able to convince you to... make your decision faster.”

logan leaned over the center console. “that’s not stupid. do you -- like him or something?”

“no!” ugh. did she? “no. he totally sucks. but everyone else has been really nice to you. and at the end of the day, you should make the decision that’ll be best for you. i’ll support you one hundred percent either way.”

“i know you will.” logan smiled at her. “you always have my back.”

“damn right. so -- kelso’s? i’m starving.”

“yeah, you look like you could use a cheer-up milkshake. i’ll buy.”

“you don’t have to do that,” ellie protested, but she leaned into his arm when he reached out to rub comfortingly at her shoulder. “i’m fine. it didn’t even bother me that much.”

“i know,” logan said, even though they both knew she was lying again, “but it makes me feel better. so -- can i?”

“well... if it’ll make you feel better.” ellie smiled. “then i guess --”

her voice cut off as she turned up the street. logan abruptly sat up straighter, leaning towards the windshield. “holy shit,” he breathed, “what is that thing?”

ellie’s eyes widened in horror. in the middle of the road, chasing two screaming kids through the street, was someone she recognized only barely from school -- but he didn’t quite look like himself, his eyes glowing bright white. as they drove closer, ellie could see rows and rows of painfully sharp teeth. he had blood on his mouth.

“i think it’s a wendigo,” she gasped, pressing down harder on the gas to get closer.

“but that’s -- that’s sean, he’s a junior --”

“he’s about to eat those two kids,” ellie said frantically, helplessly watching him gain on them, “we have to stop him. if i get you close enough do you think you can hit him with my crossbow?”

“like -- like kill him?” logan asked in a panic, even as he scrambled into the backseat for her crossbow as directed. “isn’t there something else we can do?”

“no time.” she stabbed the button for the sunroof, gunning the gas as she did so. “get up there and shoot, logan. now.”

“jesus christ,” he mumbled, pushing up onto his knees on the center console, “can’t we ever just have one fucking day --”

ellie slammed on the breaks. sean from school turned at the sound of screeching tires and snarled at them both, taking a step towards the car.

“logan, now,” she pressed urgently. she saw his finger hover over the trigger.

logan grimaced. “sorry, man.”

the arrow sailed cleanly into his chest. ellie winced as he fell to the ground with a scream, twitching on the pavement. in the distance, she saw the two kids he’d been chasing run off into the night.

she put the car into reverse. “yeah, that’s definitely a wendigo. which means -- there’s more where he came from.”

“awesome,” logan mumbled, dropping down back into the passenger seat, tossing her crossbow into the back of the car. silently, ellie rolled up the sunroof. “that’s totally what i was hoping you’d say.”

when she got home, later that night, ellie took care to seal off every window and doorway with mountain ash. she knew her dad would have a long night out ahead of him -- especially once they found sean’s body, and while logan had offered to stay over, the last thing she wanted was to wait up all night worrying.

she didn’t go back to the house with him on friday, or saturday. on sunday, she dusted off the entrance to her bedroom and logan slipped into her window and dropped another thick book in her lap.

“what’s this?” ellie asked, pushing aside the schoolwork she’d been staring blankly at for the last few hours and decidedly not completing. she turned the heavy text over in her hands.

“bestiary.” he pulled her desk chair out and sat in it backwards, resting his arms against the frame. “colt said it’s like the encyclopedia you’ve been keeping, but... longer.”

ellie pulled a face as she flipped through the pages. “it’s in latin. he told you to give me this?”

logan nodded slowly. it felt like there was something he was dancing around saying. she arched an eyebrow at him, and after a minute of staring, he sighed and gave in. “mona figured he meant it like an apology. all the girls said he’s never passed out presents to anyone else before.”

she rolled her eyes, setting the book aside. translating it was going to take forever. “an apology is an apology,” she said flatly. “and anyway, he should be giving you something you want. i don’t know what he thinks a couple of books are going to do.”

logan shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “they are giving me something i want. i don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but... having friends who are werewolves has been... kind of cool.”

ellie smiled encouragingly. “i know. and i’m really happy for you. if you like spending time there -- then i want you to keep doing it.”

“yeah,” he nodded, “and i definitely will, but -- it’d be way better if you would come back with me. will you think about it?”

“logan...” she wavered, looking down at her bed instead of at the adorable pleading look she knew he was giving her. “i don’t know...”

“just think about it,” logan said again, “for me?”

she sighed heavily. “fine. now get out of here so i can start translating this thing in peace. and -- call me if you see anything weird? my dad hasn’t said anything about sean, but...”

he nodded seriously. “yeah. it’s only a matter of time.” he lifted his hand to give her a two-fingered salute, heading back towards the window. “i’ll text you, okay?”

as quickly as he came, he was gone. ellie settled into her bed with her laptop, and opened the bestiary. before all this started, she could’ve never imagined she’d spend so many hours teaching herself ancient latin, just so she could have a chance at keeping them alive -- but here she was, working her way through a centuries-old book given to her by an alpha werewolf, ignoring her calculus homework yet again.

she zoned out quickly, mindlessly flipping through the pages. hours passed before she took a breather, but eventually, she was pleased to find that she’d made her way about half-through the book, sliding off her bed to stand and stretch. she ran down to the kitchen for a glass of water -- her dad still wasn’t home.

when she stepped back into her bedroom, she heard the window slide open just as she pulled the door shut behind her. “hey, did you find anything? i got about halfway through -- jesus!”

ellie startled, clapping her hand over her heart. it wasn’t logan who’d slipped through her window.

it was colt.

he was wearing a leather jacket and jeans, and frowned at her when she shakily set her glass of water down on her nightstand. “what the hell are you doing here?” she demanded, shifting back and forth on her feet self-consciously. she was in her pajamas.

“you shouldn’t keep that unlocked,” he said instead, nodding to her windowsill. his gaze traveled slowly around her bedroom. he smirked when he caught sight of her debate team trophies.

“i don’t,” ellie answered, annoyed already, “i thought you were logan.” she walked back over to her bed and sat down among her laptop and the still-open bestiary. “you could use the front door, you know.”

he shrugged. “i didn’t know if your dad would be home. you didn’t mention he was a detective.”

ellie arched her eyebrows. “i don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

a muscle jumped in his jaw. he nodded at the book on her bed. “he gave it to you?”

“yeah.”

“i know it’s in latin, but at least you can look at the pictures, right?”

ellie rolled her eyes. she turned her laptop around so he could see the screen. “i already started translating it. i’m, like, half done. once i finish tomorrow i can actually start reading it.”

colt gaped at her. “you’re half done?”

she flushed. “i’m not an idiot, okay? just because i’m not a werewolf doesn’t mean i don’t have my own skills to contribute. logan and i wouldn’t be able to do half of what we can without me. do you know how many obscure books i’ve found and read to him, just so we could have some idea what we’re up against? do you have any idea --”

“ellie,” he huffed, drawing her up short. he looked pained. he pinched the bridge of his nose, and slowly shook his head. “i’m not -- insulting you. you just told me you translated 500 pages of ancient latin in a few hours. i’m impressed.”

“oh.” she picked at a loose thread on the comforter. “well... thanks, i guess.”

“no one ever said you aren’t an asset, you know. you don’t have to be so defensive.”

she watched as he eyed her desk chair distrustfully. he must’ve known that was where logan always sat. with a glance back at her, he slowly lowered himself into it.

“no one has to say it,” she mumbled, averting her eyes. “i can see it on their faces. everyone thinks i’m the stupid human who can’t keep up -- not just you guys. always.”

“well, anyone who’d underestimate you is an idiot,” he shrugged. “it’s unbelievably fucking obvious that you’re the pack alpha. logan doesn’t make a move without thinking about you. you staying on top of this shit is clearly the only reason he’s even alive.”

“you don’t have to butter me up, okay? logan already likes you guys. you don’t need to convince me --”

“jesus christ, can i just give you a fucking compliment?” she blinked at him in surprise as his eyes flashed red. “i’m trying to acknowledge what you bring to the table -- which, for the record, is a hell of a lot. you’re obviously brilliant. can you just let me say it?”

“...okay?” she wasn’t sure she was totally aware of what exactly was happening.

“logan is lucky he has someone like you in his corner.” his gaze was hard set -- determined. “any pack you’d be part of would be lucky to have you. including ours.”

she had absolutely no idea what to say. he had to hear how fast her heart was beating now.

“i’m sorry i fucked up saying it before. i didn’t mean to make you mad. and i wasn’t trying to win you over just so logan would join the pack.”

ellie blinked. “did you just... apologize?” she asked. this was surreal. and -- had he been trying to win her over for... some other reason? ��and... invite me to join the pack? is that allowed?”

the smile that started to form on his face looked like it was pulled from him against his will. “i make the rules,” he shrugged. “i can change them whenever i want.”

ellie looked down at the book in her lap. she swallowed hard. “colt... thank you.”

the heat of his stare was making her flush. he stood and walked back to the window. “don’t mention it.” his hands slid the glass back up as he prepared to leave. “seriously -- don’t. ever again.”

on monday, they stopped by her house after school so she could grab the bestiary and her laptop. she wanted to finish translating it at the house while logan did -- whatever werewolf stuff he did with the rest of the pack.

he’d been leaning in the doorway of her room and texting while she tried to find a way to stuff the book into her purse, but, out of nowhere, logan’s gaze suddenly turned sharp. he took a step further into the room, inhaling deeply. his eyes narrowed in on her desk chair.

“was colt here?”

“huh?” ellie asked, playing dumb. “of course not. come on -- we’re going to be late.”

she and logan told the rest of the group about the wendigo. “it can’t be,” ingrid insisted, shaking her head. “california hasn’t had wendigos for centuries.”

“it was,” ellie confirmed. she pulled up the photos she’d taken of her dad’s case files, once he’d fallen asleep with them spread out across the kitchen table, on her phone and passed it around. “i’d know that look anywhere. we only barely got him in time.”

ximena whistled lowly, her eyes on the arrow sticking out of sean’s chest. “you guys did that?”

she exchanged a silent look with logan, who defensively answered, “he was about to eat two little kids.”

“hey, i’m not judging. just wondering where the hell two high school kids got a crossbow.”

ellie bit her lip, hesitant. “it’s... complicated.”

she snuck another glance at logan, unsure how much he wanted to reveal. he reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “my old foster parents were hunters. we took all their stuff before... their house burned down.”

mona grinned widely at the both of them. “awesome. how’d you do it?”

“mona!” ingrid scolded, reaching out and pushing her hard until she toppled over. “stop it. don’t accuse them of arson.”

ellie laughed, leaning her head on logan’s shoulder. “no, we totally did it." everyone in the group turned towards her in surprise. ellie shrugged. “um, i short-circuited their generator. it was a pretty convincing accident. and -- trust me, they more than deserved it.”

“awesome,” mona said again. “who’d’a thought you had it in you?”

logan laughed. he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in close. “ellie can do pretty much anything. and she’s annoyingly good at it all, too. i never would’ve been able to do any of this without her.”

colt spoke up finally. “well, this is all very touching, but i could use a drink.” his eyes landed on her. “wanna help me out?”

again, it hardly sounded like a question. she nodded, slipping out from under logan’s arm and standing. “sure.”

they walked off into the house together. ellie frowned as they bypassed the kitchen -- colt was heading towards his office. “colt?” he ignored her. “why are we --”

her voice broke off into a gasp when he pulled her inside and pushed her back against the door. ellie felt her eyes go wide as he crowded in close, tucking his face into the side of her neck. the full length of his body pressed in firmly along hers. ellie knew there was a blush rising in her cheeks. “colt? what -- what’re you --”

he ripped away from her abruptly, storming off to the other side of the room. “shit.” he was breathing hard. “jesus christ, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to -- do that. fuck.”

ellie swallowed, taking a careful step away from the door. she didn’t say anything as colt poured himself a drink. her eyes lingered on his white-knuckled grip, tight around the glass.

“do you want one?”

she eyed the decanter warily. she really hated the taste of wolfsbane, but... “what is it?”

“what?” he looked up and followed her line of sight, shaking his head. “you don’t have to drink that. i’ll get you something... human.”

he reached under his desk. despite the tension in the room, ellie laughed when he he handed the can he’d found over to her. “spiked seltzer, seriously? you drink these?”

colt rolled his eyes. “no.” after a pause, he begrudgingly admitted, “logan said you like them.”

ellie stared at the can in her hand like she’d never seen a spiked setlzer before. it was mango -- her favorite flavor. “i... do. you bought these for me?”

the way he glanced off skittishly made her feel like she was looking at a completely different person. “don’t let it go to your head.”

slowly, she popped the tab, lifting the can to her lips. he stared at her expectantly while she took a sip. “it’s really good,” ellie said finally, after she’d swallowed. that made him look pretty pleased. colt nodded.

his free hand curled into a fist at his side. “i really didn’t mean to drag you in here like that.”

she shrugged, stepping closer to the desk separating them. colt watched curiously as she drew nearer. “it’s okay,” she assured him, “not the first time you’ve pushed me into a wall.”

he shook his head and drained what was left in his glass, setting it down on the desk with force. “you shouldn’t let anyone push you around.” colt turned his head and met her eyes, his gaze as intense as ever. “especially not me.”

ellie stared back at him. “wanna tell me what that was about, then?”

he lifted his hand to rub at his eyes. “not really. we should get back out there.”

logan raised a pointed eyebrow at the can in her hand when they came back to the group. ellie felt herself flush, especially as everyone turned their eyes first on her, and then on colt, when he sat down next to her. she shot logan a wide-eyed look of innocence. we didn’t do anything!

he looked back at her in disbelief. ellie narrowed her eyes. we didn’t!

mona broke the silence first. “just adorable, you two.”

logan laughed, reaching over to ruffle her hair. ellie swatted his hands away, leaning closer to colt in the process as she tried to squirm away from logan on her other side. but colt inched away carefully as soon as she came closer.

before she knew it, it was almost her curfew. ellie yawned, making grabby hands at logan until he reached down and pulled her up. “we should go,” she murmured, hugging each of the girls in turn. colt turned away before she could wonder what she was supposed to say to him. “this was really fun.”

“yeah,” logan agreed, “it was cool, thanks for having us again.”

ingrid smiled at him as he leaned in to hug her. “spend your next full moon here, and we can do this all the time.”

she knew she should’ve waited until they were at least down the block -- werewolf hearing meant none of their conversations were private until they were almost home -- but ellie couldn’t stop herself. as soon as they got in the car, she asked, “is that what they told you? that you have until the full moon to make your decision?”

logan’s mouth twisted. “yeah.”

“but that’s in one week! we haven’t even known them that long. they can’t expect you to just decide --”

“look, i know i have a lot to think about,” he sighed, “but... would it be the worst thing in the world? if i wanted to say yes?”

she was surprised. she didn’t think he’d been taking the offer so seriously. “i... no, of course not. is that -- what you think you want?”

logan rolled over in the passenger seat, turning to her more fully. “colt said he was going to talk to you about joining, too. did he?”

her cheeks flushed. “he told you about that?”

“he asked me what i thought. honestly, i got the feeling that he didn’t want to say anything to you if i thought it’d make you mad or -- if you thought it’d be stupid. but i said it sounded awesome, and... i thought you’d think it was awesome, too.”

ellie pursed her lips. “i didn’t think he was serious. i kind of figured he only said it because he thought i was mad at him.”

logan laughed. “ellie, the dude’s half in love with you. most of the time i swear i feel like he wants to kill me because he thinks we’re -- woah!”

she slammed on the breaks, but they were already halfway through the stop sign she’d almost just run completely anyway. luckily, they were alone in the intersection. her head whipped around to stare at logan incredulously. “i’m sorry -- what did you just say?”

logan looked at her like she was insane. “okay, i thought you knew. did you seriously think he was being so nice to you because... actually, i can’t think of any other reason he’d be so nice to you. ellie, he’s been giving you presents.”

“books,” she stressed frantically, feeling dangerously close to hyperventilating, “not, like -- not like real gifts. they’re books.”

“okay...” his voice was slow and measured in a way she recognized from every other panic-fueled meltdown she’d ever had before. he was trying to get her to calm down. “but... when we go over there, he only ever spends time with you. i seriously can’t believe you haven’t noticed.”

“i mean, i obviously noticed that, but i didn’t think... oh my god. he bought mango spiked seltzers, logan!”

“actually, he bought, like, forty variety packs and picked out all the mango ones.” logan smirked at her. “you should hear the way he goes on and on when you’re not there. he asks more questions than your dad.”

“oh my god,” she said again, shaking her head. “i can’t believe this.”

“trust me, if you could smell the way i can, you’d never doubt me again.” logan shook his head. “i thought he finally made his move when you guys left earlier, but... i’m guessing he didn’t?”

“he -- it was...” she had no idea where to begin. “i feel like i’m going to have a stroke.”

“okay, well --”

a young girl with glowing white eyes was walking up to the car. ellie screamed, hitting the breaks again as she approached. the jeep slid to a stop just inches from her. she charged forward, towards the driver’s side door.

“ellie, i don’t think --”

“shit!” she caught a glimpse of rows and rows of sharp teeth before pressing down on the gas and speeding away as quickly as possible. her heart pounded as they raced back to her house. “shit, shit, shit. another one?”

logan sighed. “we knew there’d be more. did you recognize her?”

ellie shook her head. “she was young.” someone her age had no place in this nightmare. “i can’t help but feel like this is part of the awakening. ingrid said there haven’t been wendigos in california for centuries, and now we have them crawling all over lake forest?”

“it would be awfully convenient, otherwise...” logan sighed. “we need to go back into the woods and check out that thing everything’s been coming out of. do you think -- maybe we should bring the others?”

ellie bit her lip. her heart was still pounding. “maybe. maybe one of them will know how to close it. and then you and i won’t have to spend every weekend fighting random monsters anymore.”

“now that’d be a dream.” she shut the lights off on her car and let logan walk her to her front door, like he always did.

logan stared at her under the porch light for a minute, and then pulled her into a tight hug. “i’m not joining the pack without you,” he mumbled stubbornly into her hair. ellie smiled; logan’s loyalty was a security blanket she was sure she could never part with, no matter what happened. he rested his cheek on the top of her head. “try to get some sleep, okay? let me know if you want to talk.”

the next few days at school flew by in a blur. ellie forgot to make time to panic about everything that’d happened since the weekend, so she settled for repressing it -- decidedly not thinking about colt or their wendigo problem and what she was going to do when the full moon happened in... exactly four days. she threw herself into her schoolwork, a distraction that always worked all too well for her in the past.

but it all came to an unfortunate head when she and logan went by the house on thursday afternoon. colt sat down next to her on the back porch like nothing had happened between them. “you smell stressed.”

“stop smelling my emotions,” ellie sighed, keeping her eyes trained on the anatomy notebook in her lap, even as a blush rose to her face, “you know i hate that.”

“i can’t help it,” colt murmured, lowering his mouth to her ear. “even stressed out of your mind, you smell really fucking good.”

she swallowed, looking up and over at the rest of the pack, out in the yard. logan was with them. it looked like they were wrestling. as if he was reading her mind, colt said, “they can’t hear us.”

ellie cleared her throat. “yes they can. logan makes me whisper test answers to him from across the school. hi, logan.”

logan lifted his head and grinned unapologetically at them both. he raised his hand with a wave. mona took advantage of the distraction and tackled him to the grass, pouncing on top of him.

“okay.” colt rolled his shoulders, leaning back on the porch on his hands. “we’ll talk about something pg-13, then. what’s got you so tense?”

she sighed, glancing up at logan again. “it’s nothing.”

“is it your wendigo problem?” he pushed. “because we can try to help you with that.”

“it’s --” she shook her head. “can you turn the music up? a little louder?”

colt reached for his phone and did so wordlessly. ellie leaned in closer to him, dropping her voice. “i’m supposed to get my college acceptances back this weekend.”

his eyebrows lifted. “so?”

“so... i know i’m going to have to defer them. it just sucks.”

he frowned at her. “why?”

“well -- because i wanted to go --”

“no, why would you have to defer them?”

she bit her bottom lip, looking down at her hands. “you wouldn’t get it.”

colt knocked his shoulder into hers. “try me.”

“ever since i was a teenager, i’ve dreamed about going to langston -- in boston? but... after the last few years, i don’t think i can... leave my dad. not here. not with... everything that’s happened, since the awakening. logan and i have been taking care of every single thing that’s come out of the woods for the last three years on our own. the police barely know anything about it. so if something happened to him because of what we did -- i don’t think i could live with myself.”

she drew in a breath, continuing before he could cut in. “and... logan, too. how can i leave him here to deal with all of this on his own? he can’t -- he’d die, even with you guys. i can’t go anywhere until we find a way to close the chasm. and that’s just... the way it is.” ellie shrugged, looking sadly off into the sky. “but it still sucks, knowing i’m probably going to get accepted, and that i’ll have to turn it down. and lie to my dad again.”

ellie slid the notebook in her lap shut, and put it back in her bag. “i knew you’d think it was stupid,” she sighed, when he didn’t say anything.

colt rolled his eyes at her. “i don’t think it’s stupid. i’m just processing.” he seemed to be taking great care to consider his words before he said them, which was new. “look -- i want you to have everything you want, okay? if that means going away to college... you should do it.”

she shook her head. “it’d be selfish.”

“then be selfish. i think you’ve more than earned it.”

he had a point. still... “it’s not that simple.” ellie turned to look at him and found his gaze hard set and determined.

“then we’ll close the chasm. how hard can it be?”

“well -- logan and i have been trying for three years,” she remarked, sounding amused, “so i think... pretty hard.”

“you don’t think five alpha werewolves can figure it out?”

“i mean... i don’t want to be rude, but...”

ellie laughed as colt playfully shoved her shoulder. “don’t be a brat,” he chided. “we’ll at least give it a shot.” his jaw tightened, the carefree smile that’d been on his face just a moment before disappearing as quickly as it’d come. “and then you’ll be free. you can do whatever you want.”

there was just one problem with that: she had no idea what the hell she wanted, anymore.

she drew her bottom lip between her teeth and met his gaze again. she couldn’t stop thinking about what logan had said. the dude’s half in love with you.

“do you like me?” she asked, before she could stop herself.

colt stared at her in surprise. “i thought you knew.”

ellie sighed, exasperated. “why does everyone keep saying that? how am i supposed to know? not all of us are werewolves with super-attuned powers of observation.”

colt looked over at the pack, and then back to her. “i’ve been giving you space to make up your mind. i thought that was what you wanted.”

that was... surprisingly mature of him. “logan said we only have four days to decide.”

he turned away. “the full moon is good bonding time -- for a pack. i guess in theory we could give you another month, but... what good would that do? either you want this or you don’t.”

she was quiet as she considered his point. “if we say yes... are you going to bite me?”

that drew colt’s gaze back to her. he looked confused. “do you... want me to bite you?”

logan had never asked her that before -- but then again, she’d never asked him, either. unprompted, or when she’d dared to dance around the subject, he’d always insisted that he’d never bite anyone, if he could help it. “no.”

“then of course i won’t. what do you take me for?” he sighed. “you’d be pack whether you wanted the bite or not. there are... other ways to make it official.”

ellie grinned. without looking at her, colt shoved his shoulder against hers again.

“don’t say group sex.”

she laughed. “i thought you liked that joke?”

ellie turned her head just in time to watch a shadow pass over his expression. “i liked it more when the thought of you having sex with someone else didn’t make me feel sick.” she startled, looking at him in surprise. she could feel a blush rise on her cheeks again.

“colt...” she started, unsure of what, exactly, she wanted to say. why did he always make her so tongue-tied?

“look. take your time, okay?” his gaze was laser focused when it met hers, and she knew her pulse was racing again. “if you do decide you want this... i want you to be sure.”

logan grinned obnoxiously at her when they got in the car.

“i feel like we should talk about this,” he said, in a way that definitely meant he and everyone else in the backyard had heard most of their conversation.

ellie shook her head furiously. “i feel like we really shouldn’t. really.”

they did wind up talking about it, though.

they talked about everything -- for pretty much two days straight. they talked themselves in and out of every possible situation and scenario until there were no stones left unturned.

they had a decision to make, and like everything else, they were going to make it together.

it didn’t matter -- because they were pretty much on the same page anyway, like always, but...

they still talked about it. to death.

and when they were done, they were in complete agreement.

she got into langston, early decision.

the day before the full moon, she drove over to colt’s house alone. she hadn’t told logan or anyone she was planning on stopping by, but she knew that colt would anticipate her arrival before she’d gotten there -- she knew he’d be able to hear the sound of her tires as soon as they turned onto his block.

mona answered the door when she arrived. her eyes trailed slowly over ellie’s body, taking in the short skirt she wore with a grin. “the day before the full moon? you must be feeling ballsy.”

...yeah. she knew how logan could get, close to the full moon, and he was a nice person. there was no telling what waited for her here. ellie shrugged. “is he home?”

her lips spread into a knowing smirk. “he’s in his room. upstairs, big door at the end of the hall. you can’t miss it.”

his bedroom?

she tried not to feel nervous as she ascended the stairs, slowly making her way down the hall as mona had indicated. he had to know she was here, right? and he hadn’t come to get the door, to find her -- he was waiting for her, here. anticipation tripped down her spine.

just as she lifted her hand to knock, the door swung open.

colt looked both like he’d been waiting for her and like he was surprised to see her. he stared at her intensely, raking his gaze over her legs and her chest until she shifted restlessly before him, almost feeling like she was already naked, with the way he was looking at her. he stepped aside wordlessly and let her through the door. “what’re you doing here?”

“i wanted to see you,” she said honestly, looking curiously around his room. everything felt so him; a swath of dark colors covered every surface. even his bed sheets were black. they looked soft.

he was very visibly holding himself back from... something, keeping a careful distance from where she was standing. ellie wondered about the limits of his self-restraint. she took a step closer, watching in fascination as his jaw clenched tight.

“did you make a decision?”

she nodded. whatever he read in the expression on her face seemed to placate him, because he didn’t move away, even when she got close enough to reach up and cup his face in her hands. even when she pressed their lips together in a kiss.

then he groaned, grabbing her hips and lifting her up into the air. it was effortless for him, to toss her around -- ellie’s back hit his mattress before she’d even realized it happened. she gasped, pulling him on top of her, locking her legs around his waist. his hands were already tugging insistently at her clothes as his mouth descended on hers for another hungry kiss.

“colt,” she breathed, holding tightly onto his arms, “i --”

the sound of his name pulled a deep growl from the back of his throat. ellie shivered as his hands slid up her thighs, pushing her skirt up as far as it would go. she felt his lips move from her face to her neck, sucking bruising kisses against the skin of her throat on a path up to her ear.

“you have thirty seconds to get out of these,” one hand pulled pointedly on the hem of her shirt, while the other slipped between her legs, “before i rip them apart.” with a deep breath, he lifted his head, pulling back enough to let her up off the bed. colt rolled to the edge, sitting and watching her with a smile dark enough to make her shiver again.

in a daze, she stood, wobbling ever-so-slightly on her weak knees. ellie spent a split-second thinking about trying to be sexy before she decided she didn’t care and stripped out of her outfit as quickly as humanly possible.

once she was down to just her underwear, she stepped closer. colt pulled her in between his spread legs, looking her over with obvious interest. he shook his head. when he spoke, his voice was rough -- almost awed. “look at you.”

slowly, she reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up his chest until he got the message and lifted his arms. her eyes widened as his sculpted torso came into view. “god, you’re hot.”

he laughed, gripping the backs of her thighs and urging her into his lap. ellie straddled him, inching in as close as she could possibly get. “look who’s talking. you’re fucking gorgeous.” without warning, colt’s face returned to that soft spot between her neck and shoulder, and ellie groaned loudly as she felt the scrape of his teeth -- they were blunt. human, but that didn’t mean her pulse didn’t start to race trepidatiously, a mix of fear and excitement squirming in her stomach.

colt kissed roughly over her skin, dotting her neck and chest with marks from his teeth. his hands anchored on her hips and held her in place as he bucked up against her, grinding the hard line of his cock between her legs. ellie moaned, twisting her hand in his hair and yanking his head up so she could kiss him. colt responded eagerly, surprisingly letting her take control enough to push at his shoulders until he laid back against the bed, enough that she could crawl on top of him.

his hands slid slowly from her legs to her back, over her ass and up again. he was holding her so tightly she knew she’d have bruises tomorrow, but the press of his nails as they dragged over her arms stayed resolutely dull. the only sign she could find that indicated he was balancing on the very edge of control was the wild look in his eyes when she lifted her head and the way he couldn’t quite seem to stop burying his face in her neck, reworking his teeth over spots he’d already claimed.

colt rolled her over until she was settled neatly among the pillows on his bed, laying in the middle of it with him on top of her. he pulled back to stare at her, and she grinned at him as she watched him observe her, there, stretched out in his sheets. his eyes were wide. “i can’t believe i’m not dreaming.”

“believe it,” she said, reaching down and hooking her fingers in the belt loops of his jeans. she tugged him closer insistently, and colt groaned again as their hips pressed flush. “i’m all yours, colt kaneko.”

there. that sound he made was perfectly inhuman, and he dropped back down on top of her heavily, reaching for her forearms and pinning them above her head. “don’t,” he warned, nuzzling into the space between her breasts, kissing in hot, insistent bursts down to her stomach. “you can’t say stuff like that.”

“why not?” her voice was high and breathy as she arched up into his mouth. regretfully, colt released her arms so he could move the rest of the way down her body, settling between her legs. his arms wrapped around her knees, pulling them wide, and she felt his teeth -- blunt, human, but again nonetheless thrilling -- sink into the crease at the inside of her thigh. her hips jerked, dragging a whimper from the back of her throat. “colt.”

he huffed, hooking a finger in the front of her underwear and yanking them roughly to the side. “i’m trying to be gentle,” he mumbled, slowly moving his mouth towards her center. his voice was shaking.

ellie squirmed on the mattress. “what if -- what if i don’t want you to be gentle?”

colt looked up at her, his eyes flashing red. “ellie...” his voice was tight. he ducked his head, squeezing his eyes shut. she worked to catch her breath, leaning down to gently brush her fingers across his face. her thumb stroked across his cheek, and when colt lifted his eyes to hers again, they were back to warm brown; he looked lost. “don’t push me. i don’t want to hurt you.”

her thumb slid down to the corner of his mouth, dragging against his bottom lip. “you’re not going to hurt me. i trust you.”

he hesitated, digging his fingertips into the sides of her thighs. ellie pushed up onto her elbows so she could see him clearly. “i want all of you, colt,” she insisted again, “i want everything.”

he exhaled heavily, nodding from between her legs. whatever nerves and hesitation he wore on his face disappeared suddenly in favor of an expression she was far more familiar with; a wicked smirk spread across his face, curving up the corners of his smug mouth with promise. ellie’s eyes lit up, though her own look of anticipation cleared for one of surprise when he gave a swift tug and ripped the panties she was wearing from her body.

colt tossed them aside like tissue paper, burying his face between her legs. ellie’s hands fisted in the bed sheets, and she did everything she could not to scream when his tongue parted her folds, flicking against her clit. “oh, god,” she moaned breathlessly, “colt, please -- i --”

he didn’t tease, and she wondered if he’d thought about this before -- if he planned out exactly how he was going to pull her apart. it felt like he must’ve, because colt was practiced, methodical in his movements. he somehow knew exactly where she wanted him to touch her and how much pressure to use to make her shake. without her having to tell him, he expertly brought her to an edge in a matter of moments, until her legs were shaking and she couldn’t stifle the sounds she was making anymore.

“colt,” she gasped, jerking on the sheets when he pulled away, “i --” a helpless noise of frustration escaped beyond her control, a wordless question in the little whine that left her lips.

he was shoving his jeans down as quickly as possible, kicking them off the bed. ellie watched as he palmed himself through his briefs, licking the taste of her from his lips, before he pulled those off, too. “i want to be inside you when i watch you come,” he explained, leaning over her again for another kiss. she sighed, tilting her head up for it gratefully and happily melting back against the mattress to let him take charge, winding her arms around him as he kissed her deeply.

it was surprisingly sweet, given how worked up he seemed to be. he held her chin steady under his thumb when he pulled away so she could catch her breath, his dark eyes searching her expression. “do you want that?”

ellie was nodding before he even finished his question. colt’s grip on her chin tightened until she moaned, “yes. yes, please.”

the sound he made when his hips sank into hers sounded like it was ripped from his chest, and ellie shuddered as he held her close, lifting her from the bed at the small of her back for an angle that had her seeing stars. “fuck,” he moaned into her shoulder, his teeth again dragging along her skin, “you’re so wet. you feel amazing.”

“colt,” she moaned, the sound a high, needy, breathless exhalation of his name. “please -- please just --”

“i’ve got you,” he promised, nipping at her collarbone, trailing kisses down her chest, “i’m gonna take such good care of you.”

he sounded unbelievably sincere, and something inside of her wriggled up happily at the words -- even if he only meant them in the context of making her come. but she didn’t think he did.

he laughed, the speed of his hips suddenly increasing. “you smell so good.”

ellie arched her back high, slipping right into his hands. “tell me.”

“happy,” he sighed, muffling a groan in her neck when she twisted her hips, “turned on.” his fingers pressed between her legs, and he thumbed roughly at her clit in time with his thrusts, his fingers drawing imprecise circles against where she was most sensitive. “and mine.”

it felt like she might’ve blacked out. like she was having an out-of-body experience, ellie was distantly aware of the way she’d screamed as she hit her peak, how desperately she was trembling in his arms. but everything else felt like a blur -- colt’s own hushed murmurs of her name, his last few groans, the way he pressed so deeply inside of her, marking her as his from the inside out.

he gathered her into his arms, nuzzling gently into her hair, behind her ear. “now you smell like me,” he murmured triumphantly, through labored breaths. “finally.”

she mumbled something incoherent into his chest, tilting her face up for a kiss. he obliged her immediately, pressing his lips against hers so softly it almost felt strange, before she realized what a gift it was, to see a different side of him.

“you should just stay,” he said finally, once she’d come back to herself enough to actually put sentences together.

ellie shook her head. “my dad’ll know something’s up if i’m out two nights in a row. it’s okay -- we’ll be back tomorrow.”

colt helped her get dressed, glancing at her in between each article of clothing as though checking her over for injuries. finally, she said, “you’re not as tough as you think you are, you know. i’m fine.”

he rolled his eyes at her. “give it time. i was being careful.” she bit her lip on a grin. in lieu of a ‘goodbye,’ colt walked over to a chair in the corner of the room and grabbed his jacket, swooping it over her shoulders like a cape. “here.”

“what’s this for?”

he shrugged, eyeing the way it settled on her frame. it was obviously too big for her. “you can bring it back tomorrow.”

she leaned in and stole another kiss, fully intending for it to be quick. but colt caught her lips and held them captive, his mouth moving so slowly and perfectly against hers it took everything she had not to just stand there forever and let him do whatever he wanted. his fingers brushed through her hair. “you should... not shower.”

ellie’s nose scrunched up. “seriously?”

he grinned obnoxiously at her. “i mean, you can if you want. but...” he raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

it sounded kind of gross. “i’ll think about it.”

colt walked her all the way to her car. she couldn’t help but notice how eerily quiet it was at the house as they stepped outside and into the street. “where is everyone?”

“pfft, with the way you were screaming? oregon, probably.” he opened the driver’s side door for her.

ellie blushed to the roots of her hair, reaching up to smack colt on the shoulder. “jerk. it was your fault.”

he grinned widely, pulling her forward by his jacket for one last kiss goodnight. “i know.”

when she drove by to pick up logan the next day, to head over to the house, he was already frowning before he even got in the car. “are you for real?” he demanded, rolling the window down and scooting as close to it as he possibly could, “you couldn’t take a shower?”

she winced. she didn’t think the truth would be very popular with him. logan eyed the very visible hickies that disappeared down into her shirt and shook his head. “actually -- i don’t want to know. but i do just want to say: gross.”

“point taken,” ellie allowed, reaching up to fuss with her ponytail. “do you think everyone else will notice?”

logan shot her a look. “do i think that three alpha werewolves, hours before the full moon, will be able to take one look at you and know exactly how you spent yesterday? do you really want me to answer that?”

she shook her head, already embarrassed. “let’s talk about something else. are you... nervous? we’ve never done a full moon not at your house before.”

logan shifted restlessly in the car seat. “a little,” he admitted. “i don’t want anything bad to happen. but... i feel better knowing you’ll be with me. you always calm me down.”

ellie shot him a smile. “i’m glad we’re doing this together.”

“me, too,” he sighed, “you have no idea. did colt say anything about... what we have to do?”

ellie doubted logan would find the group sex joke very funny. “nope. i didn’t see anything in any of the books, either.”

logan huffed. “i bet it involves blood. way too many werewolf things involve blood.”

“way too many magic things in general involve blood,” she agreed, “and fire, why does everything have to have fire?”

“i know, right?” he perked up as ellie slowed to a stop in front of the house, putting the car in park. the porch light was on, and even with her regular human ears, she could hear music coming from the backyard. “i can’t believe you told him we were coming,” logan mused as they made their way up to the front door, “you totally ruined the surprise. i wanted to see the looks on their faces.”

“technically, i never said we were coming. i just said we made a decision. and then he kind of -- assumed. there were context clues.”

“that’s more than enough detail, thanks.” the front door was unlocked. logan let her head inside first, and then pulled it shut behind himself.

they found everyone in the backyard, as predicted. mona whistled at her as she toed off her shoes and stepped out in the grass. ellie smiled sheepishly when ingrid elbowed her hard in the side and said, “stop it, you’re embarrassing her!”

ximena ran over and gave logan a giant hug, lifting him off his feet. he was smiling when she pulled away and did the same to ellie. “we’re really happy you guys are here.”

“us, too,” logan said, sharing one last look with ellie before heading over to where the other two girls were waiting. ximena walked off after him, leaving her alone with colt, who stepped up into her personal space slowly.

she was wearing his jacket, as promised. he reached out and grabbed the open sides of it, looking at it like it was something new she’d bought for herself, and not an article of clothing he usually wore every day. “hey. you’re really here.”

“i really am,” she confirmed, catching his gaze and shooting him a soft smile. “did you think we wouldn’t come?”

“kind of,” he admitted, tugging her in closer. “maybe you shouldn’t have. i don’t know how i’m supposed to control myself around you.”

she shivered, about to press her lips to his when the rest of the pack called out to them from farther off in the backyard. “can’t you two save it for later?” mona demanded, “the moon’s almost up.”

colt sighed, lightly bumping his forehead against hers. “in the morning,” he murmured, brushing his lips just once over hers, “i promise. come on.”

he slipped his hand into hers and pulled her off towards the rest of the group. he didn’t let go, even when they sat down in the grass with everyone else.

ingrid clapped her hands excitedly. “on behalf of everyone, i just want to say -- we’re so excited to welcome you two to the pack!”

ximena nodded. “we’re really glad you guys decided to stay. having you around permanently is going to be awesome.”

ellie and logan looked at mona expectantly. she shrugged. “it’ll be nice having someone who actually knows how to read.”

“ellie, are you sure you don’t want one of us to bite you?” ingrid asked. she could feel both colt and logan tense on either side of her. “because i totally could, if you wanted to -- i’d do it really gently.”

“thanks, but... i’m okay. i’m excited to be part of this with all of you -- as a human.”

colt cleared his throat from beside her. “we’re excited for that, too. for both of you.”

“us too,” logan confirmed again, “but i’m dying to know what happens now. it’s something with blood, right?”

ingrid laughed. she pulled out a tall white candle and set it in the center of the circle. “we basically just have to burn this down. ordinarily, we’d all just bite you, but...” she shrugged, looking pointedly at ellie’s already bruised throat. “you probably don’t want to risk it.”

ellie coughed, reaching over and pinching colt’s arm when he started to laugh. “we’re good with the candle.”

upon closer inspection, it’d been carved with some sort of runes. there was a divet at the top, where the wick started -- obviously meant to catch something. she had a feeling logan was going to get the blood he’d been hoping to avoid.

mona pushed up onto her knees, waving a small gold knife around. “everybody’s gotta give up a drop. come on.”

she started off, slicing open her own palm and squeezing her fist over the top of the candle. a drop of blood collected neatly in the dip, and then she passed both off to ingrid. eventually, logan passed the candle to her. ellie took the knife gingerly, turning it over in her hands with a grimace. “i hate blood.”

“here,” colt offered, pulling it from her grip, “let me.” he took her left hand gently in his, pressing the blade of the knife into the heel of her palm until the tiniest cut appeared. she shook her hand over the candle until a drop of her blood joined everyone else’s, then watched as colt did the same, his cut instantly healing, knitting his hand back together seamlessly.

“you guys are so lucky,” she sighed, pressing her thumb against the wound on her palm, “no band-aids.”

colt smirked, passing the candle back over to logan. “got a light?”

he nodded, pulling a lighter from his pocket and setting the wick aflame. he set the candle back down on the ground where it’d been. ellie leaned against colt’s side, watching it for a moment before she asked, “what now?”

everyone’s eyes swiveled simultaneously up to the sky. “should be about any minute now,” mona hummed, standing and stretching. ellie averted her eyes as she started to pull off her jacket, and then her shirt. “hope you brought something to do, babe.”

she shot a smile logan’s way. “yeah, i’ve got a book. this isn’t my first full moon.”

each of the girls started to shift. logan pulled on her arm until she turned to face him more fully. “you’ll be right here, right? in case -- in case something goes wrong.”

she nodded, squeezing his hand. “nothing’s going to go wrong. but -- yeah, of course. i’m not going anywhere.” she lifted her pinky, smiling when logan looped his through it. “i’m your anchor, right?”

“right.” he nodded, then stepped away to pull his shirt off. in the next blink, he’d shifted, all the way to his full wolf form. ellie looked over to where the girls were standing, still only turned halfway. ingrid and ximena cheered as he ran over to them, though mona first nudged him playfully. “show-off.”

that just left colt. when she turned back around, he’d already stripped down to nothing. “do you think you’re gonna recognize me?” she asked, reaching out to grab his arms and pull him close.

he nodded, brushing another extremely soft kiss against her lips. “definitely.” he shot her a lopsided smile. “the wolf likes you more than i do.”

ellie looked up at the sky -- the moon was high, the last cloud having passed over it. they were out of time. colt pulled away, and when she looked back down, he’d shifted fully, too, all the way down to a large, black wolf.

ellie stood still as he paced a circle around her, sniffing at her legs. before she could extend a hand, he leapt, knocking her onto her back in the grass. “oof.” his nose nuzzled her cheek, and then he licked a stripe across her face. “gross,” she laughed, pushing him off, “get out of here, go do alpha stuff.”

she watched them all run off into the woods with a smile. then she sat down, next to the candle, and pulled out her book, waiting for them to come back.

colt woke up before her. the amount of noise he was making, shuffling around the bedroom, was enough to pull her from sleep, and ellie opened her eyes to find him stepping into his underwear, standing next to the bed. she reached out sleepily towards him with an inquisitive mumble, and he smiled at her from over his shoulder, passing her one of his t-shirts. “put this on. trust me.”

she sighed, sitting up in bed to pull the fabric over her head. “what --”

the door banged open abruptly. logan shuffled in in his pajamas, ingrid trailing behind him. with a yawn, he flopped down onto the bed. “my head is killing me.” he rolled onto his back, dropping said head dramatically into her lap. ingrid slipped into the bed beside him with a little more grace, curling into the space colt had left. he shoved her over when he came back to bed, pushing under the sheets to somehow fold himself back around ellie’s side.

ellie shot him a confused look as he pulled her back down to the pillows. “do you guys always do this?”

ximena and mona slipped into the room, pulling the door shut behind them. they found space on the bed and curled up with everyone else, shutting their eyes. “ellie, my head,” logan groaned again, rubbing his cheek against the blanket. she rolled her eyes, pushing her fingers into his hair. immediately, he sighed with content, tucking in along her legs.

“we usually do it without talking,” mona mumbled pointedly from somewhere down the other end of the bed. colt lifted his shoulders at her in a shrug.

“she’s right.”

ellie rolled her eyes at him, but obligingly relaxed against the pillows. it was more comfortable than she’d thought it’d be, to cram six people in a king-sized bed. colt’s arm slipped around her waist, and she tilted her head towards him before her eyes slid shut again, too.

they weren’t able to get out into the woods until the weekend. ellie’s dad insisted on spending time with her for most of the week when he wasn’t working, so much so that she barely even saw logan outside of school hours, and only caught flashes of colt as he came in and out of her window for a few minutes whenever he could.

when they finally brought the rest of the pack to the chasm, pulling back the tree branches that covered the mouth of the opening, it felt a little anticlimactic. colt leaned in to peer between the rocks with a frown. “that’s it?”

“well -- it’s not awake right now,” logan answered defensively, very nearly pouting. “it’s usually, like -- glowing. with monsters crawling out of it.”

ellie shivered, wrapping her arms around her own middle. “remember the berserkers? they would not stop coming.”

logan nodded, his expression grim. “we must’ve ripped off about a hundred heads that night.”

mona grinned approvingly at them. colt turned back towards ellie with a lifted eyebrow. “i swear, you get hotter every day.”

“please,” logan interjected, before she could formulate a response, “i just ate. can we get back to closing up the portal thingy?”

mona crowded in on colt’s other side to squint between the rocks, too. she studied them for a moment, then shrugged, stepping away. “you need a witch,” she said simply, dusting off her hands. “a powerful one.”

“do you -- know any witches?” ellie asked hopefully, looking between the four of them in turn.

colt shook his head. “none that would take on this thing.”

“there is... one other thing you could try,” ingrid said carefully. colt shot her a sharp glare.

“no, there isn’t.” his voice was pointed.

ingrid frowned. “she’s strong enough to do it.”

“but it isn’t worth the risk.”

“it is if we can find her something to --”

his eyes flashed red. ellie watched as he bared his teeth with a growl. ingrid’s hands balled into fists at her side. logan stepped between them, holding out his hands. “woah,” he said, “relax. what are you two talking about?”

“a human could do the spell,” ximena explained slowly. “if they had something to channel the power they needed to complete it through.”

ellie exchanged a look with logan. “well -- where would we get the power to do it?”

mona snorted from beside her. “a pack of alpha werewolves ought’a do the trick.”

she felt her eyes widen. “and -- you guys could help me channel it?”

ximena looked nervous as she glanced at each of the remaining pack members in turn. “well... you’d need something to anchor it. anything would do, as long as it was pure... like made entirely from silver, or gold, or even mahogany. but...”

“but it could kill you,” colt spit out. “all that power would go through you to get to the anchor, and it would kill you. so it’s not worth it.”

he looked furious. her teeth dug into her bottom lip, and she reached out for him hesitantly, resting her hand on his arm. “colt...”

“no. i’m sorry, ellie, but -- no. i know you want to shut this thing down and move on with your life but i’m not going to just help you try something that we don’t even know will work on the off chance it doesn’t fucking kill you. i won’t do it.”

logan stepped up beside him, shaking his head. “i’m with him,” he said. an indignant look sprang onto her face, and he winced before he continued, “i’m sorry, el, but he’s right. if it could hurt you -- then it’s not worth it.”

“so -- what? we stay in lake forest fighting monsters for the rest of our lives? we can’t always be here to help everyone, logan!” her brow furrowed as she stared at him, imploring him to understand, before wheeling around and turning her gaze on ingrid, instead. “would we have enough power to do it without them?”

she could hear logan freeze behind her. “ellie.”

ingrid glanced briefly at him over her shoulder before nodding. “yes. the three of us could do it.”

“then we’re doing it,” she decided, setting her jaw with determination.

“like hell you are!” ellie turned her head to direct her glare on colt instead. he looked angrier than she’d ever seen him. “ellie, i know you’re not this stupid.”

for a split second, she wavered. did she really want to go through with this? was she really ready to risk everything -- to leave her dad behind? to leave logan, to leave colt?

she looked back at ingrid. “how big is the risk?”

ingrid stared down at her. “you’re pack. you’re strong enough to handle it.”

she was. she’d proved it so many times, and she was tired of people underestimating her. she could do this. ellie nodded. “how soon can we do it?”

“there’ll be a meteor shower in two days -- tuesday night into wednesday. celestial chaos is always good for magic.”

soon enough, she supposed. ellie turned back toward logan and colt and found them both glaring at her with twin looks of aggravation, their arms folded across their chests. “i’m not going to let you do this,” logan insisted, “it’s too dangerous.”

“well -- i’m doing it, with or without you, and you can’t stop me.” she frowned at him. they’d never had a fight like this before. “so i really wish you’d get on board. because -- because you’re my best friend, and -- and i need you --”

“oh, shit,” logan sighed, lifting a hand to cover his face as tears welled in her eyes. “stop it, ellie! i’m mad at you.”

“i’m sorry!” she wiped at her eyes, biting down on the inside of her cheek to stop her bottom lip from wobbling, “but it’s time, logan. we need to end this. and i want you there with me when i do it.”

he groaned. “okay, fine.” colt shot him a look of utter betrayal, even as a watery smile spread across her face. “i’ll do it, but i’m not happy about it.”

“thank you.” she turned to look at colt expectantly.

“i’m not going to change my mind,” he said stubbornly, “i don’t care how much you fucking cry about it. i’d rather have you pissed at me for the rest of your life than dead.”

she blinked. she didn’t know what to say. “colt...”

with one last look into her eyes, he turned and stormed off from the group, into the woods. the five of them stood there in stunned silence, watching him walk away.

ximena laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “he’ll come around, ellie.”

but she wasn’t so sure.

on tuesday night, logan laid sprawled across her unmade bed, watching her get ready. “what does one wear to a spell casting?” she asked, holding up two tops on hangers against her body, one after the other. “black? or... black?”

“definitely black,” logan nodded, grinning at her when she giggled, ducking into her closet to change. when she popped out, he looked uncharacteristically somber. “are you sure you want to do this?”

ellie shrugged at him. “you don’t think i can do it?”

“i didn’t say that,” he argued, “i just want to make sure you’re --” he cut off abruptly, cocking his head to the side.

a minute later, her dad knocked on the closed door of her room and then pushed it open. “hey, kiddo. i’m heading to the station. try not to stay out too late working on that astronomy project, okay?”

“of course, dad. be safe at work.” she smiled at him, proud of herself for not letting her voice waver one bit. without turning her head, ellie already knew logan was shifting around guiltily on her bed, averting his eyes. he was the worst liar. ellie stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her dad, hugging him close. “i love you.”

he kissed her forehead. “love you, too.”

once he was gone, she turned back to logan with a confidence she certainly didn’t feel. “well? ready to do this?”

he sighed, pulling himself up off her bed. she tried not to think about the fact that it might be the last time they were ever alone in her life. “as ready as i’ll ever be. let’s go.”

logan was silent for most of the drive. he didn’t say much as they parked her car on the edge of the woods and walked off towards the chasm together. the rest of the girls were already waiting there for her when they approached. her heart sank as she saw that they were alone.

colt hadn’t said a word to her since he left them in the woods on saturday. part of her had been hoping he’d come around, like ximena promised, and simply show up for her tonight -- but he wasn’t here, and she couldn’t stop herself from wondering if she might never see him again. the thought was almost enough to make her want to turn back.

“hey, you two,” ingrid greeted, smiling cheerfully. “excited?”

“that’s... not the word i’d use.” logan countered, “but we’re here.”

ellie nodded at the bag she was carrying. “did you bring everything we need?”

“yep!” she pulled a heavy book out and passed it to ellie. “here’s the grimoire. and i’ve got the mountain ash for you to lay out. and the most important part --” ingrid proudly presented her with a solid gold brick. “ta da.”

“wow,” ellie said, passing the book over to logan so she could take it into her hands, “this thing must be worth a fortune. do we really have to destroy it?”

mona shrugged. “all-powerful spells don’t come cheap. what time are we blowing this thing?”

ximena checked her watch. “we should be able to get started in a few minutes.”

a leaf crunched from somewhere off to the left. it was all the warning she had that someone else was here before colt stepped out of the shadows, appearing before them all with a boost of inhuman speed. he didn’t look at anyone except for her. “i need to talk to you.”

she sighed, handing the brick back to ingrid. “okay.”

they walked off from the group, though she knew it wouldn’t do any good. surely, they were all listening from where they stood just a few meters away. colt turned and grabbed her shoulders, staring at her intensely through the dark. “don’t do this.”

“colt, i’m not going to change my mind.” she stepped closer, grabbing at the sides of his jacket. “i’m doing this whether you’re on board or not.”

“ellie,” his voice wavered in a way she’d never heard before. “please.”

guilt sank in her stomach like a stone. she shook her head. “i’m sorry, but i have to. you can still do it with us, you know.”

he only stared at her silently, his eyes studying her face seriously. ellie bravely took a step closer, tilting their foreheads together again. “you said you wanted me to have everything i want,” she reminded him, trying not to sigh as his hands finally slid down her back to pull her closer into his embrace, “this is what i want.”

colt shifted to close the last inch of space between them, his lips claiming hers in one last desperate kiss. she held him tightly as their lips moved against each other feverishly, well aware of the way time was ticking down around them. his breathing was ragged when he pulled away. “you’re sure i can’t change your mind?”

silently, she shook her head. a dangerous look crossed his face like storm clouds, but then colt nodded. “alright,” he said finally, “i guess i’m in, then.”

they all sat down in a circle in front of the mouth of the chasm. ellie waited until they were holding hands before she sealed them in with mountain ash, stepping into the empty space between logan and colt with the gold brick in her hands. the grimoire sat open on her lap to the spell they’d all studied, and she looked from the book into the empty chasm and back again. “everybody ready?”

there were nods from around the circle. above them, ellie could see shooting stars starting to streak across the sky. colt and logan each laid their open hands on her arms. her grip on the gold brick went white-knuckled as she started to read the spell from the grimoire.

as she neared the part where it was time to start chanting, the gold started to burn hot in her hands. ellie almost fumbled, but grit her teeth against the pain, forcing herself to hold onto the anchor even as everything in her screamed at her to drop it. her eyes squeezed shut tightly as everyone chanted in time.

the chasm was glowing. she could see the white light even from behind her eyelids, and ellie felt the power from each one of them run through her like a circuit; she could distinctly feel logan’s wolf, wild and familiar, and colt’s, chaotic, but feeling like home.

the brick in her hands was starting to vibrate. her voice wavered as she tried not to cry out from the pain, and very distantly felt someone’s hand tighten on her arm. the white light was swelling, glowing brighter, filling the woods -- and a force beyond her control wrenched the gold brick from her hands, sending it flying through the air.

ellie’s back hit the ground with a thud. she gasped as she fell back against the grass, and then everything went black.

her mom was there, drifting back to her as though in a memory. it was from before she got sick -- her hair was long and shiny, her voice was melodic and gentle. ellie could see herself in her childhood bedroom, tucked in bed, though it felt like she was underwater.

“ellie,” her mom said, “it’s time to wake up. sweetheart -- you’ve got to wake up. you’re going to be late.”

the feeling went back into her hands, first. they twitched in the grass, brushing the blades beneath her fingers. without opening her eyes, ellie tentatively wiggled her toes in her shoes. yep -- they all still worked.

“ellie? ellie, can you hear me? please say something.” that was logan’s voice, panicked and desperate, each word tripping out in a rush. “she’s breathing, i can hear it. her heart -- i know she is. ellie.” he rushed to slip his hand into hers. “squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”

it felt like her limbs were made out of lead, but she somehow forced her fingers to squeeze.

there was a thump as a second body dropped to its knees on her other side. rough fingers -- a set she’d know anywhere -- touched her other hand hesitantly. “ellie? are you... here?”

i’m here. she couldn’t quite get her lips to move -- to make the sounds she wanted, the ones that would reassure him.

“ellie, we need you to open your eyes. can you do that?”

when they put it like that, it sounded so easy.

but she could try. ellie struggled to lift her heavy eyelids. in the process, she felt her nose wrinkle with the effort. someone beside her laughed through what sounded suspiciously like tears.

her eyes finally blinked open to stare at the night sky. the meteor shower was still going on. immediately, five alpha werewolves crowded into her field of vision. “holy shit,” logan gasped, squeezing her hand tightly in his, “you’re alive. jesus christ. holy shit, el.”

she licked her lips. the inside of her throat felt like sandpaper. “did we... do it? did it work?”

logan nodded frantically. “we did, it’s closed. it worked -- you did it. you rocked it.”

she nodded, turning her head on the grass to look for colt. “colt?”

“i’m right here,” he said, and sure enough, she focused her blurry vision on his face. “you were amazing. it was perfect.”

“cool,” she mumbled, her eyelids already fluttering shut again. “awesome.”

when she woke again, she was in colt’s room at home. she knew it without even opening her eyes; the mattress beneath her was lush, the sheets soft on her skin. she could hear logan pacing in the hallway. he was on the phone with someone -- snippets of his voice filtered in through the closed door whenever he got close to it in his rounds.

“well, it was late, so -- we slept at my house...”

“...and ellie must’ve eaten some bad pizza, ‘cause she’s real sick today...”

“...um, and she can’t get out of bed, so she’s gonna just stay here...”

“...and -- and i’ll have her call you when she gets up, sir. yes, sir.”

she huffed out a laugh, slowly sitting up against the pillows. colt was at her side before she even opened her eyes. “hey, take it easy. don’t overdo it.”

“is he talking to my dad?”

colt nodded. he handed her a glass of water that she gulped down greedily, rubbing sleep out of her eyes with her free hand. already, she felt worlds better than she had last night -- still a little bit like she’d been hit by a truck, but decidedly better than before. “i wish he didn’t have to, though. he’s the worst liar i’ve ever seen.”

ellie laughed, despite how sore it made her throat feel. “my whole body hurts,” she sighed, “i feel like i jumped out of a plane without a parachute.”

he stared down at her from the side of the bed. “you scared the shit out of me,” colt said bluntly. “part of me didn’t think you were going to wake up.”

she wiggled over to make room for him in the bed. her body protested the movement, but it was nice to feel like she had control of everything again, when she swung her arm out to grab at him. “c’mere.”

he immediately slid into the bed beside her, pulling her gently into his arms. “i don’t know what i would’ve done,” he said roughly, his voice low and filled with emotion, “if something had happened to you.”

she reached out to touch his cheek, angling his face towards hers. their eyes locked. “colt, i love you.”

the expression on his face was hovering somewhere between upset and annoyed, but then it split into an honest smile. he leaned in and kissed her. “i love you, too.”

surprise colored her face. “really?”

he laughed, reaching out to gently touch her cheek. “are you kidding? you’re the coolest fucking person i’ve ever met. smart, sexy, badass...” ellie watched with fascination as he shook his head, averting his eyes. if she didn’t know any better, she might think he actually looked shy.

“but -- you hated me when we first met!”

colt rolled his eyes at her. “ellie, i was attracted to you. you can’t even imagine how many times i almost lost my head over the way you smelled.”

she struggled to sit up in the bed, staring at him in disbelief. “seriously?”

“seriously. and then i got to know you... and you were capable, and brilliant, and loyal... it felt too good to be true. i mean -- jesus christ, you keep a crossbow in your backseat.” a sudden seriousness crossed his face. “things this perfect don’t usually happen to me.”

her cheeks were starting to protest the wide smile that took over her expression, aching even as she grinned at him as brightly as she could. “i love you so much, though,” she promised, pleased by the light that jumped into his eyes as soon as she said the words. “like -- so much.”

ellie’s arms wrapped around him, stiff and bruised but there nonetheless. she kissed him with every last drop of energy she had, as hard and excitedly as possible. he was right. for once, everything felt perfect.

the pack came to their graduation. logan noticed as soon as they got their seats, and he bumped her shoulder to point them out in the crowd to her. she looked up, easily catching colt’s eyes with the way he was already staring at her. she beamed at him, happiness coursing through her at the sight of the little smile he shot back.

“ms. wheeler?” their principal tapped her on the shoulder, stealing her attention. “you’re up.”

ellie looped her pinky through logan’s for a squeeze. “wish me luck.”

“you’ve got this, valedictorian.”

they celebrated back at the house over drinks. it was so miserably hot that they stripped down to their underwear and ran through the sprinkler for hours, until the sun went down. ellie shook her wet hair in colt’s face when he tackled her into the grass, squealing as they rolled around together. “you should really think about putting a pool in.”

“will you move in, if i do?”

she reached up and poked his cheek playfully. “you know i want to.” logan had already started bringing some of his stuff over, but it was different for him -- he wasn’t going anywhere, at least not anytime soon. “i just have to figure out what i’m going to tell my dad. and he’s... going to want to meet you.”

he sighed, reaching down and pushing her hair off her face. the tip of his finger traced over the bridge of her nose, the swell of her lips. “do you really have to go?”

ellie twisted her fingers in his hair and tugged him down for a kiss. “yeah. but we’ll still have the summer. and then it’s just a couple months until thanksgiving.”

colt tucked his face in the side of her neck, nuzzling his nose against her skin. “i hate it.”

“i know,” she murmured comfortingly, “but i’ll call all the time.”

“it won’t be the same.”

“it’ll go by faster than you think. plus, you could always visit. all of you. there’s lots of cool stuff to see in boston.”

“as long as i get to see you, the rest of it doesn’t matter.” he lifted his head and she smiled at him, warm and fond. just as she angled her head in for another kiss, a shadow fell over her face.

“can you two get a room?” mona smirked, “or just keep it together for another hour?”

“yeah,” ximena called from behind her, “the rest of us want ellie time, too.”

ellie laughed, reaching up to push at colt’s shoulders. he didn’t budge, resolutely digging his fingertips into her hips harder. “you have to get better at sharing,” she murmured, playfully bumping their noses together.”

“i won’t,” he refused, but he obligingly pushed off of her, rolling to stand and then helping her up, too.

she squeezed happily into the small space between ingrid and ximena on the day bed, grinning at logan from across the unlit fire pit. he was already smiling back at her, that goofy, overjoyed smile she’d seen on his face just a few times before. ellie cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows arching as if to say, can you believe we freakin’ did it?

he nodded back at her -- she was familiar with the gesture and the pride it conveyed. she’d seen it before plenty of times -- over harpy guts, across a field of dead berserkers, when he handed her crossbow back to her covered in disturbing black blood. it said, i always knew we could.

#ride or die #choices rod #colt kaneko #ellie wheeler #colt kaneko x mc #colt kaneko x ellie wheeler #rod logan #myfic #long post #wow i cannot believe i finished this #it felt bleak for awhile there #ummmm i hope everyone remembers teen wolf because i ripped off a lot of this from the show #and didn't explain it well lmao #i feel.....mildly self conscious about this BUT the nice thing about it being so long is that #by the time you get to the end you forget that the beginning was bad #i was gonna go harder on the wendigo subplot but i couldn't find a place to fit it in :\#logan rod #also i was stuck on that sex scene for like 2 days #and it still wound up being deeply mediocre #it kind of is like a choices book because all the characters develop completely within 1-2 weeks lmao #ANYWAY #i hope some of you like this ??#maybe if it doesn't flop i'll write more abt their friendship before this #and some of the stuff that happened afterwards #???? validate me ok #n*sfw

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hitsuackerman · 5 years ago

Text

A Different Hashira (Giyu x Reader) pt 5

Here is the part 5 of A Different Hashira

You can click here for part 1 :)

You can click here for part 2 :)

You can click here for part 3 :)

You can click here for part 4 :)

- - - - -

Attempted Conversations

Despite the fact that you failed in extracting knowledge as to what his favorite food was, the two of you still enjoyed the simple lunch of tempura and soba. It was a miracle that you knew just how much spices you needed to put since Giyu had such particular taste.

"Are you in the mood to talk, Tomioka-san?"

"Mhmm."

Taking your eyes off of the tempura, you stared at the messy haired hashira. He was wearing a white undershirt and his pants. Though this time, he was barefoot.

"How was your mission?"

"It was successful. I met up with Kochou and she assisted me." He slurped his soba and proceeded "A dog bit me as well."

"Huh?" Putting your bowl down, you scooted towards him and extended a hand. Half expecting he would reject it.

Staring at you with stuffed cheeks, he placed his chopsticks down and gave you his bandaged hand. Inspecting it a little, you saw the messy of a job was done in wrapping up the injury. Knowing that Shinobu would never make something that horrendous, you could only deduce that it was him who did it.

"This was done... very badly, Tomioka-san."

Taking his hand from yours, he grabbed his chopsticks and continued eating. You sighed and stood up. With big steps, you went to your room and grabbed your first aid box. Though you were not as skilled as Shinobu when it comes to medicine, you were an expert at wrapping bandages. Admittedly, it had been a while since you last bandaged your hand. Hopefully, your hands still remembered what to do.

Seeing you carrying a first aid kit, Giyu stopped eating and waited for you to begin the small procedure.

Carefully unwrapping the bandage, you felt how calloused his fingers were. You didn't know how old he was but your estimation was around 18 or 19 years old. Asking him would be pushing it and he might just stand up and leave you alone.

Seeing that there was a faint bite mark, you couldn't help but giggle at the picture of an emotionless man being bitten by a dog.

"What?"

Your thoughts were cut when his voice cut the silence between you.

"I was just thinking how you looked like when the dog bit you." A smile escaped your mouth. Looking up, you saw him staring at you with such dead pan eyes. He looked annoyed but in reality, he looked like a child. Your smile only grew even larger causing him to sigh in defeat.

A few minutes passed and you were pleased with your handy work.

"There you go! Much better and definitely cleaner too."

"Thank you."

Crawling your way back to your seat, you picked up your bowl and continued to eat. A slight breeze found it's way to the two of you. Instantly, the two of you relaxed. The two of you had been on long journey's and the breeze was a much needed energy booster.

"Your left palm? What happened?"

"Hmm?" You replied with food in your mouth this time.

"I noticed a healed laceration on it."

"Very observant. Yes, it is a healed laceration. As to how I got it, only time will give you the answer, Tomioka-san."

Now that the two of you finished sharing lunch, Giyu silently offered to wash the dishes once more. Thanking him, you cleaned the table and set it aside. Now that the receiving area was empty, you lazily flopped to the ground and inhaled the fresh air passing through the engawa.

"Care to join me?" You invited Giyu to lay down on the tatami mats.

"No."

"Suit yourself."

Hearing his footsteps go up the stairs, the tranquility was cut by the caws of your raven and his crow. Landing beside you, the two birds looked at each other and nodded.

"(F/N) (L/N) and Giyu Tomioka. Head northwest. Village with reports of demon. Leave tomorrow. " Karasutori announced.

"So much for peace, ey?" You hummed while petting the head of both birds. Both of them responded by bowing their heads even more. Telling them to wait, you went back inside the kitchen and gave them each some bread crumbs. The moment they left, you headed to your room to get ready for the mission to come.

As the sun was setting, you had just finished preparing the necessary items. Hoping that there would be a Wisteria house there, you only brought some bandages and cash. Any more than that would become a hindrance when fighting off demons.

The question now was, which sword you would have to bring with you on the mission. With zero details to go on, it would be a risk to bring a jagged sword. Telling yourself to pay Tecchikawahara a visit, you stored the blue Nichirin blade and brought out the black sheathed one from your closet. Taking a cloth, you wiped off any traces of dust and placed it beside your futon.

Hopefully, this demon would have no need to let you use any breathing techniques. It did cross your mind that this would be the perfect time to show Giyu what kind of pillar you were, but you made a pact with yourself. Only use it in times of need.

Standing up, you changed into your uniform's skirt and a plain white shirt. Too lazy to cook dinner, you headed to the butterfly estate. There you killed time till you fell asleep

- -

Going back to your estate in the early hours of your dawn, you savored the chilly morning breeze accompanied with all of nature's sound. Regretting not bringing along your haori, you walked a pace faster till you saw the familiar building emerge from the wisteria trees. A carving of tidal waves were now visible on the wooden gates.

Opening them, you were greeted with a meditating Giyu with tea cups beside him.

Walking up to him, you sat on the engawa. Your eyes focused on the steaming cup of tea. Sipping on it, you felt energized and ready to start the mission. Comfortable silence engulfed the two of you. Thanking him for the tea, you stood up to ready yourself for the mission.

Moments later, the two of you were now walking towards the Northwestern village.

Inside you, you were dying to initiate conversation. You were so used to having Misturi or Kyojuro talking their hearts out as you headed to your assigned places. The person you were teaming up with gave you nothing but silence. Would he be annoyed if you kept talking about random things till you reached the village? Would an exchange happen? Or just nods and hums? Sulking it up, you began to tread the waters.

"Uh, what kind of demon do you think we'll find?"

"Not sure yet."

"When did you start learning water breathing, Tomioka-san?"

"A few years back."

"What was it like, training with Urokodaki-sensei?"

"Never let him drink alcohol."

"Wait, what?"

You stopped walking as you processed the tidbit of information you had just received. In all your years with Urokodaki, you had never once seen him drink anything other than tea and water. A mental image of him drinking was harder than learning your own 10th form of breathing. Catching up to Giyu, you matched his pace once more.

Regretting that you stopped the momentum of the conversation, you stared at him once more. You noticed how his cheeks were a little bit more fuller. The dark circles around his eyes were still there, though. He had his fair share of sleepless nights, too. Mentally, you took note to buy some lavender to help him get some goodnight's rest.

By the time the two of you arrived in the village, the sun was now setting. Looking for an inn or a Wisteria house, you stumbled upon the latter. The family gladly took the both of you in but only had one room to offer. Graciously accepting it, the two of you sat down on the only futon available and rested your legs after a day's worth of walking.

"Shall we take turns in patrolling the area?" You offered.

"That's fine. Rest for now. I'll start."

Before you could say another word, Giyu vanished. Not bothering to get up, you plopped onto the futon and took a nap. Just as you felt your body give in, there was a knock on the door. You sat yourself up as you told them to enter. Upon seeing their smiling faces, you were greeted with 2 sets of mouth watering food.

With no one else to talk to, you invited the woman to sit down and chat.

"Do you have any idea what kind of demon is running lose?"

"Very faint, but I heard that the demon only eats those in their teens and late twenties. Some people also report that they find large holes around the forest. Holes enough for a full grown person to hide in."

"I see. When was the last time there was a sighting?"

"About 3 days ago. By the ramen shop."

"Around what time? Would you know?"

The girl touched her chin and tried to think about the conversation she had.

"They say it was around 10pm."

"Alright. Thanks for the information, uhh, may I have your name again?" You scratched your head awkwardly at forgetting the name of your host.

"Ayumi." She replied with a smile.

"Thank you, Ayumi-san. You should rest now, I'll be patrolling in a few minutes time."

After you finished eating, she took your set of bowls and dishes. Leaving Giyu's meal in case he would feel hungry when he returns. Laying back down on the futon, you yawned and waited for the return of your partner. You closed your eyes to make use of the time.

You woke up with start when you felt the futon move slightly. Giyu had returned. Examining him, he looked clean and calm, as always.

"Anything happened?" Rubbing your eyes as you asked him.

"None."

"Aight, Imma head out now. You- oh you already ate, good." Standing up, you took your blade and bid farewell.

- - - - -

a/n:

so... this was... yeah xD sorry if this chapter sucks but author-chan still has to build things up a bit ;) doncha worry, there will be action in the next upload. i also hope that ya'll felt that this chapter was quite awkward since its usually awkward around our bibi boi Giyu~ (save if your Tanjirou because, yeah he's who he is 😂 )

Also... I tend to update this late here in tumblr so if you guys want the link to the story :) feel free to message me :D this is actually chapter 5 out of 16 (currently)

#tomioka giyuu #giyuu tomioka x reader #tomioka giyu x reader #reader insert #kny tomioka #kny giyu #kny x reader

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herondaleholly31 · 5 years ago

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That’s My Girl Chris Evans X Reader

Overview: You and Chris are going to see your daughter perform in her first talent show. Chris helped with her performance and its a little different from what you would’ve expected...

AN: Another Chris one for you guys! Now that Knives Out is coming out, I’ve had people desperate for more Chris, and this idea melted my heart. This is inspired by a scene from one of my favourite TV shows if you know it message me ;) Thank you for the support as always!

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Word count:2300

"nononono" you panicked as you felt you ankle wobble dangerously. Running on cobblestones In heels was dangerous, and a broken ankle was the last thing you needed right now. You slowed down to an uncomfortable fast walk-jog, willing for your ankles to not snap like sticks. It had started to snow, the first time this winter, and you buried your chin into your scarf so to keep your teeth from chattering. The clock in the local church chimed 7:30 causing your head to whip up in alarm and your heel to skid across a particularly icy cobble. You felt your whole body move back and that gut-wrenching shot of panic flashed through your brain as you saved yourself at the last minute from falling. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, the third time in the past half an hour. You fished it out and shoved it between your ear and shoulder, rounding the corner to beams of saturated yellow light "I'm here, I'm literally outside…… I'm fine love…..yes there was an issue at work that I had to stay for, but I'm here now……okay……I'll see you in a second."

Oak-field catholic school came looming out the darkness, brightly lit up with banners already hanging limply from the steady fall of snow. You skidded up the steps, taking two at a time, to almost trip and fall on the last one. You bag swung around on your shoulder and almost took out a grandfather walking behind you.

"I am SO sorry, Sir!" You gasped "Honestly If I've hurt you-"

"Swinging for the elderly?" A voice joked "I thought we said you wouldn't do that anymore." Chris was standing by the open door, smiling. He walked over, apologised once more to the old man and his wife, before turning back to you, shaking his head. He was wrapped up in a dark jacket over his favourite blue shirt, and his shoes had been cleaned, so they gleamed; he had obviously dressed up the occasion. His hair was still a little messy from a day of running his hands through it, and the sight alone caused you to sigh with joy.

"I'm an addict I couldn't help it," You joked. "Hi."

"Hello." He grinned. He pulled you in for a quick hug, planting a soft kiss by your ear. "How was your day?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Duly noted. Come on," Chris kept his arm hooked around your waist as you both walked into the school "the show hasn't started yet."

"I thought I was going to miss her."

"And that would've made you a terrible parent."

"It would've." It was good to relax and joke around after the day you'd just had, you could already feel the knot in your shoulders start to loosen. You said hi to Lina's mum as you passed and nodded to Sister Margret, who jerked curtly back. The pair of you was just quickly catching up about to head into the hall when a small voice could be heard just behind to you.

"Dad?"

Connie had poked her head out the backstage door. She looked like she was going to be sick; pale skin, sweaty forehead, her nails bitten down to the surface. Her eyes were wide and desperate, and this caused Chris to run over and lean down on one knee. You watched from a distance; Connie didn't like being nervous in front of you because she knew it caused you to become overprotective. You saw Connie shake her head and the words "I can't do it," be said before Chris lightly put a hand over her mouth. He shook his head and spoke soft words, moving the hand to then to bring her head forward so he could kiss the top of her head. Chris said something that caused your daughter to laugh weakly before she said something that caused a belt of laughter from him. He then pulled her in briefly, their cheeks squishing together as he hugged her tight before chivying her lightly towards the door. One last high five and then she slipped backstage again, leaving her Dad to run back over to you smiling.

"Everything okay?"

"yea she's fine. Last-minute nerves. We've been rehearsing all day though so she knows what she's doing."

"I'm just looking forward to FINALLY seeing this secret performance," you said as you entered the auditorium where rows of creaky chairs were set up facing the stage. The sound of a generic TV show single was on a loop through the speakers on either side of the stage, buzzing slightly with the increase of base every few seconds. The air of you headed to two seats in the third row on the inside end, meaning you had the perfect view without having to crane your necks. There was a pause while you both flicked through the programme and said hi to parents of friends and to say hi to that one hysterical fan (there was always one) before you couldn't resist any more.

"Are you going to give me ANY hints about what she's doing."

"Nope."

'Nothing at all?"

"It's a surprise."

"Should I film it?"

"Oh absolutely," there was a glint in your husband's eye that for some reason caused you to become suspicious "we're never going to want to forget this."

You wanted to ask more, but then the lights went down and a thunder of applause. One of the sisters was standing just by the stage with a microphone in one hand and a notebook in the other, from which she read out "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Oak-field's Talent Extravaganza. Now, please put your hands together for Alice and her jumping juggling friends."

*******

"She's next, she's next!" You squired in your seat with impatience, excitement starting to bubble in your chest. Chris handed you his phone, and you set up the camera, propping it up on your bag so the performance could be filmed. "I'm nervous, why am I nervous she's doing the show not me. Oh gosh, I'm panicking-"

"Hon she's going to be fine!" But he still reached out and grabbed your hand, squeezing it in reassurance. His jiggling knee also gave it away that he too was feeling a little nervous, and that oddly calmed you a little.

The lights went down once more, and there was a smattering of polite applause. Lina walked out first, her smile full and confident, strutting over to her spot with rehearsed purpose before standing with her hand on her hip, poised. Connie, with her smaller physique and her curly hair already coming loose from her ponytail, gave the image of someone who was more reserved and shy. You watched her eyes rake the crowd before she caught your eye. You gave her a small wave; Chris lifted his arm so his thumbs up could be seen over the group. This reassurance caused Connie to nod in determination, before gripping her hand onto her hip, smiling widely. A click of the stereo and the slightly tinny sound of an old Judy Garland song started to play. This granted a nod of approval from Sister Margret. A very devout woman of the church who before the show had sent a list of songs and artists that were "recognised as inappropriate and would therefore not be tolerated." She was also a massive Judy Garland fan and had, therefore, lacked hesitation when putting the girls into the show. The CD stuttered, then the tinny backing track to "somewhere over the rainbow" rang out through the old speakers. The girls started their routine, slowly swaying back and forth, little voices sweet and nervous but to you the loveliest sound. You beamed widely, tears already clogging your eyes and pride burst through your chest. Everyone else saw the charm in it too; the grandparents in front of you cooed at each other about how cute she was. You wanted she lean over and say "she's my daughter," but that would distract you from the show.

A couple lines in, however, the music scratched, stuttered, and then stopped. The hall was silent. Both girls stood in stage, looking at each other and then back out into the audience. Your heart lept into your mouth. You tried to catch Connie's eye, but this was causing you to panic more. "We have to do something," you hissed to Chris.

"Just wait."

BAM! Bass blasted out of the speakers, shuddering the ground. Both girls grinned widely before throwing off the big jumpers they both wore, to reveal t-shirts decorated with flashing stars to match the socks they both pulled up to their knees. Horrified, you heard the lyrics to an all too familiar song.

'I was like

Good gracious- ass is bodacious

Flirting to show my patience

I'm waiting for the right time to shoot my steez….'

And without hesitation, both girls started dancing perfectly in time, jumping, sliding and turning, never missing a note as they lip-synced along. There was a roar of noise from the audience, a mixed response of anger and howling laughter. You turned to Chris, who was roaring with laughter, rolling back and forth on his chair, clapping loudly.

"You taught our daughter the lyrics to Hot in Here by NELLY?"

"But," Chris had to collect himself for a second he was laughing so hard "but doesn't she look great!"

"CHRISTOPHER!"

"It's a great song! Look, they're just coming up to the chorus." You turned back in time to see you, daughter, mouth the lyrics I am getting so hot right now, imma take my clothes off before throwing herself into a cartwheel. You were so shocked you burst out laughing, and then you couldn't stop. It was brilliant, they'd obviously spent hours on it. The audience was loving it too, most of their classmates cheering them in next to their slightly shell shocked but amused parents. The Sisters, on the other hand, looked horrified, Sister Margret was shaking in her seat, her face so stern it looked as if her forehead was about to crack in two. She started to feverishly whisper to the sister next to her. She jumped out of her seat and scurried behind the speakers, desperately trying to unplug them. Connie and Lina kept going, never missing any lyrics or steps. The speakers were eventually cut off, and the hall erupted into thundering applause. Chris stood up, whopping and pointing proudly at his daughter. "That's my girl! That's my daughter!" You laughed at his yells of pride and stood up with him, clapping widely. The lights went up, and Connie's eyes went straight to the pair of you. She was blushing, but when she saw you, she beamed and waved. A sister grabbed both of them by the shoulder and frog-marched them off stage to a waiting Sister Margaret. She beckoned Chris over too, and for the first time, Chris's jubilation faltered.

"I think I'm about to get told off."

********

"Again," Chris said for the fourth time "I am so sorry for getting you into trouble honey." Connie poked her head up from her giant bowl of ice cream.

"It's only a week of no break times Dad. Besides, it gives us time to learn our next dance."

"Next dance?" You frowned.

"Lina's older sister wants us to do another dance for her birthday, to a song called s&m?" Connie shrugged "should be fun."

Chris's eyes widened, but you shook your head. Maybe not tonight. Instead, he went up and refilled all your ice cream pots, putting on so many reeses pieces the ice cream was lost. It was Connie's favourite though, and she squealed in delight before tucking in once more.

"But I'm proud of you." Chris threw his arm over his daughter and brought her into his side, her head barely reaching his shoulder. He kissed her head and smiled proudly towards you "didn't she do amazing?"

"You did amazing," you smiled.

Connie blushed once more. "Lina was better at the dancing than me."

"Are you kidding? You got moves, kid! Just like your mother," Chris winked, this time causing your cheeks to tinge pink. Praise and jokes were exchanged until it was time for them to go, the streets cold and icy with snow. Although she was nearly 9, Chris hooked Connie by her armpits and swung her onto his shoulders, one hand holding onto her wriggling foot, so she didn't fall off. The other handheld yours, making sure he kept close to you as you gingerly walked in your heels to the car. The snow was still falling in from the sky, and it stuck to your coat and to Chris's beard and made Connie look like a little old woman, her hair was so white. She squealed in delight not caring, sticking her little pink tongue out, trying to catch any snowflakes. It was the perfect image, and you feel your heart warm, seeing your small family together.

'I haven't done something yet today," Chris suddenly said.

"What?"

Chris stopped you for a second to lean in and give you a quick kiss, his lips warm and slightly cracked. He broke then there was another, and then he brought your intertwined hands up to his lips to kiss your hand, where your matching wedding bands knocked against each other. There were flecks of white clinging to his eyelashes, and his eyes glittered from the string of lights everywhere. "I love you both so much."

"I love you too."

"Love you three times !" Connie smiled. You both chuckled and continued to walk towards the car "Love you four times" Chris retorted.

"Love you five times."

"Six times."

"Ten times."

"A hundred times."

"One Gazillion and three!" Connie yelled, her smile triumphant.

"Wow. One Gazillion and three," Chris smiled to you "we're pretty damn lucky."

You squeezed his hand. "We really are."

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x #chris evans imagine #Chris Evans #chris #imagine #chris evans x y/n #Chris Evans x you #chris Evans x reader #chris evans x ofc #Steve Rogers #steve x reader #steve rodgers x reader #captain america #fluffy #cute #fanfiction #love

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dreamescapeswriting · 5 years ago

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Chemical Spill ~ Seokjin X Reader

A/N: I’m working on a series of imagines where it’s based on all of their ZIP photos and I’m super hype about it! Here is Jins!

Word Count: 5,003

Warnings: mentions death, swearing

Genre: Fluffy|| Au|| cute

Summary: You’re living in a zombie apocalypse, everyone who was anyone has been taken underground to survive while all of the “normals” fight to stay alive but Jin isn’t like the rest, he was supposed to go into hiding but stayed behind to help others around him, he finds you in an abandoned hospital distract and takes an instant liking to you

Who would have thought a chemical plant leaking some strange unknown substance into a graveyard would have created the zombie apocalypse, well every person who worked there, the chemical plant was a danger to everyone and everything around it and when it finally spilt its contents into a graveyard creating zombies that walked around eating people whenever they could find them, the only problem with these zombies is that they looked almost human, sure the older corpses that were effected looked as though real zombies should look, or at least how to movies made them look, but the fresher bodies looked almost human if it wasn’t for the grunting and green ooze dripping from their mouth, the ooze was the same chemical that changed their bodies, to begin with, one drop of that in your bloodstream and you were a goner, people wouldn’t tell the difference, which is why it was so hard to move around city spaces or find a group of people to stay safe with, it was hard to trust people you didn’t know, the first stages of being turned from a small cut or bite were normal, you would just act as though it was a common cold or flu, only when you started to crave brains would people be able to tell, or when you would start to leak the substance from your mouth.

You had a group, you have a group of close friends, you’d been together for the first three years of the apocalypse, running together and surviving together as a group, but one by one they all began to get sloppy or give up on the fight and you watched every single one of them leave or die, even having to kill two of them after being bitten, that was the problem, one bite/scratch and it was all over, you had to be put down or you would become one of them, which no one wanted. You’d been alone for the best part of a year now, you’d backpacked across most of the country and were now heading for an abandoned distract close to the accident site of the chemical plant, which many people warned was dangerous but if it was closer to the start of the damage maybe it was like a tornado and would be better to start in, go towards the damage is what your mother always told you.

You’d managed to get into one of the hospital buildings in the abandoned village, there were three around the site but the first two were too boarded up to even try to break into, meaning something was locked inside that no one wanted to get out, this hospital was around half a mile away from the chemical plant which was still leaking out the ooze that started this mess, everyone important in the world was taken deep underground where the top governments had been preparing for something like this to happen, which meant no one was bothered about the chemical leak because everyone who was anyone was already in a safe place, they were waiting it out until the zombies ended everything around them and the important ones could start again.

“Keep out,” You scoffed at the signs on the hospital door, you used some bolt cutters you kept in a backpack and opened the door, inside was a cafeteria area, stocked full of rotting food, flies flying around it and creating the most gruesome smell you’d ever smelt, you groaned walking further into the back finding a working freezer, a jackpot because inside were different cans of food, enough to feed you for at least five months before you would have to go on another run or until you had to move on again, you didn’t want to stay in one place too long. You were staying nearby in an old treehouse in someone’s old garden, whoever had lived their had young kids, it was packed full of old teddy bears, pillows and blankets which was good for you but you couldn’t help but feel bad for the family who had to leave everything they owned behind, the treehouse was accessible through a thin ladder which you pulled up once inside, the zombies weren’t smart enough to work ladders or door handles but it was better to be safe than sorry.

You’d been in the hospital all day and it was starting to get dark out, you didn’t want to risk going back to the house in the dark, zombies were unpredictable enough during the day they’d always been good at hiding, sure they groaned but they didn’t constantly do it, it was only when they could smell humans or were starving, you knew you could stay in the hospital but you wanted to get to the highest point of it, just in case anyone else managed to come into the hospital and wanted to start a fight, you knew how people could get in these situations, everyone was crazy, you’d met someone who was just on a killing spree for the fun of it, the apocalypse made everyone unpredictable.

While you waited for the night to pass you went through your bag, you’d managed to get enough food to live off for a while, as well as some first aid supplies you were running low on, back at the treehouse, you didn’t get hurt much but you didn’t want to be short or anything, anything could happen after all.

“Are you alive?” You groaned moving away from whoever’s voice it was and opened your eyes to see a man dressed in black jeans and a brown shirt which was folded up to his elbows, he was carrying a gun and had two pistols also attached to his belt. You looked out of the nearby window and saw it was bright out meaning you’d made it through the night in one piece without being attacked or found by zombies, your eyes travelled back to the man once again.

“Yeah, I’m alive.” You said getting up on your feet and looking around, his shirt was covered in blood, some of the ooze and mud, he’d clearly been out for a while because he had a small cut on his cheekbone, looked like he’d scraped it along a wall somewhere, you picked up your bag and looked at him, he was staring at you and it was now you took in his appearance, he had to be the most handsome man you’d ever seen, even before the apocalypse, he looked as though he belonged with the important ones.

“Good, we should get going before this place gets packed by zombies, I saw a herd coming this way.” You stared at the man before you and he smiled at you, God even his smile was perfect, he noticed you staring and his ears began to turn a little red so you looked at the ground instead.

“We?” You quizzed, walking behind him as you both made your way out of the hospital building through a set of stairs.

“Well…I didn’t think you would want to be alone.” You scoffed at his ignorance, just because you were alone, you couldn’t manage? You’d gotten this far hadn’t you? You looked around the corner in front of you, in case any zombies had managed to make their way inside like he’d said but it was clear.

“I can look after myself I don’t need anyone.” You said taking out the machete you carried around with you instead of a gun, a gun drew too much attention everyone knew that a machete was silent.

“So thanks for the offer and all but I’m fine.” You said, not wanting to sound mean but you didn’t want to risk getting close to someone only to lose them again, especially someone that good looking it could be bad news, someone that good looking wasn’t just nice for being nice, you knew you had to be careful on who to trust in this day and age. So you left without another word to him, sprinting towards a convenience store that was nearby

He followed you in silence, wanting to watch how you worked your way through the small city, he watched as you broke down the front door to the convenience store in almost silence, the only noise being made was the wooden panel hitting the floor beside you, he smiled you were good at what you did which meant you obviously did this a lot and were used to this type of situation, he wanted to keep an eye on you, having someone like you could be good for supply runs.

How hard could it be to find some pads you thought as you went down another empty aisle, it was practically all empty except some old out of date fruits, you grumbled lightly kicking a shelf but it caused another to fall and crash against the floor, it was like an alarm system for nearby zombies, a few of them coming through the door you’d opened and another coming from behind another shelving unit, grumbling at you, you took your machete ready to start hitting them, you knew to aim for the head and not to stop until they were gone for good, but there was ten of them and only one of you.

“Down!” You heard someone scream, you looked over the shoulder of one of the zombies, you spotted the same man from the hospital and dropped down onto the floor, laying flat against your stomach as the man from the hospital began spraying bullets out, hitting some of them in the legs, them hitting the floor was your cue to hit them in the head while they were down, he had incredible aim which was fantastic.

“I don’t need anyone,” The guy mocked, helping you stand to your feet and smiling at you, you smiled back ignoring the mocking tone he’d given you and wiped the zombie blood from your face, holding out your hand for him to shake.

“Y/N.” You said, he took your hand and shook it

“Jin.” You were looking at him again, the way his jaw looked sharp enough to sharpen knives upon it and how his eyes were sparkling, even in the dull light of the darkness of the store, the only thing really lightening up the area was the sunlight peeking through the window.

“I have a base nearby, you should come with me. It’s safer there than anywhere else.” He spoke to you, you blinked at him for a second before thinking of all the things you had left at the treehouse.

“I have supplies in a treehouse nearby.” You spoke, trying not to seem nervous in his presence, you figured they could be useful to him somehow.

“Is there anything personal with them?” He questioned meeting your gaze, you shook your head and he looked over his shoulder as if telling the time by looking at the sun.

“It’s about a three-hour walk from here to our base, I’m sure you’ll be fine without the small bits, we have clothes and such at the base you can have.” You nodded in agreement not wanting to argue with someone you had just met and who had just saved your life.

“Let’s get going then.”

The walk was filled with conversation, you were trying to get to know each other better, well you were trying to find out if he was a secret serial killer and was planning on killing you, you found out he was one of the important ones, meant to go into hiding but refused because he wanted to help people above ground by trying to stop the zombies.

“That explains it then…” You said with a small laugh behind your voice, he stared at you as he helped you climb over a fence.

“Explains what?” He questioned as he joined you on the other side taking the bag you’d been holding for him.

“You’re too good looking to be one of the normals.” You blurted out without thinking, he chuckled, a deep red blush on his cheeks, you were blushing as well from the comment you’d said.

You’d talked for most of the way about who he was before the apocalypse, he was in some kind of band with his friends who were also staying behind to help others,

“What about you? What did you do?” He questioned looking at you as you rounded another corner, the sun was starting to set which meant you were almost at his safe place.

“I was just an office clerk.” You laughed nervously, you hadn’t thought about your old life for a long time, it wasn’t something that many people wanted to talk about, you would just push forward and ignore the past, what good was looking back on it? Nothing could be done about it now, nothing could change it.

You told him why you were so hesitant about going with him, you explained what happened to the first group of people you were with and how uneasy it made you around new people, it made him laugh when you mentioned about thinking he was a serial killer, his laugh made you smile instantly, it was so warm and bubbly, but he explained how he understood, he didn’t think he would make it through without his friends by his side.

“Here we are,” Jin said you looked up from the ground to see a giant brick wall, he walked over to some metal gates and hit a code on a nearby pad, the gates sprung into action and opened up.

“Welcome,” Jin said as he walked you through your eyes didn’t know where to look first, everything was so different from the outside world, there were houses that were fully built, none of them was rotting away, missing windows or shot up, they were beautifully kept, the gates shutting snapped your attention away and then you looked at a giant tower next to the gates, someone was standing on top looking out over the view,

“That’s Namjoon, second in command,” Jin spoke, walking you down a large pathway further into the village, that’s what it had to be, it had to be classed as a village, it had homes in rows, a small farming area, another building with “Hospital.” written upon it, there was more but you couldn’t see it all at once.

“We started building the giant brick fence when the spill happened, it took seven of us, about a year to make progress but others began joining in, in the end, we ended up with this.” He was walking over to a blue house, you stared around, in front of the house was a small little farming area, growing different produce.

“We all have a job here, I’m a runner along with Taehyung and Jugkook, we go out once or twice a week on the look for others to come home with us and for supplies…I was on a medical run when I found you.” He stated, walking with you towards the hospital building and greeting an older looking lady with a hug, handing her a bag full of bandages, you took your bag off your shoulder and handed over the supplies you’d swiped from the hospital.

“We’ll talk to Namjoon later but I feel pretty confident in you being a runner with me, you seem like you’ve been doing well and I have been looking for a running buddy,” You nodded following him over to a set of houses, eight of them all in a row and he pointed at a white one.

“You can stay there, it has 4 bedrooms but we don’t have overcrowding so you’ll be alone for a while until more come if that’s alright?” You nodded along, still unable to form words.

“I know it’s a little much, but I promise you’ll get used to it, you should go wash up, Yoongi will be starting meals soon.” You frowned a little confused by who Yoongi was,

“Yoongi?” He walked with you onto the porch of the house you were going to be living in and opened the front door.

“The main chief of the camp, there is also Hoseok, he’s the main gardener here, likes to make sure we have enough food.”

A month had passed and you were having a wonderful time, you’d taken up gardening to help grow some fruits and vegetables when you weren’t out on runs with Jin, you went out together twice a week on the hunt for mostly medical supplies and canned food, but the village was pretty much stocked full all the time, enough to feed everyone more than five times over. When you weren’t gardening Jin would steal you away to teach you how to shoot, he wanted you to get used to carrying a gun around, yes it was louder but it was easier than trying to slay a bunch of zombies with a small machete.

You could still remember the first lesson you had with him, you were more nervous about him being so close to you, then you were to shoot the gun;

His arms were wrapped around you, you were standing so close you could practically hear his heartbeat, he gently rubbed your arm because you seemed nervous.

“You’ll do great, it’s just practice.” He put your arms in the right position and aimed the gun, his head close to your neck as he looked down the barrel of the gun to make sure the aim was right, you felt his breath against your skin and it sent shivers up and down your spine.

You hit the target on your own and began jumping up and down excitedly.

“I did it!” You yelled putting the safety back on and making sure it was fine, Jin was just as excited as he stood behind you, without a second thought you threw your arms around his neck, and he instantly linked his arms around your waist, maybe it was the adrenaline you were experiencing but you didn’t care the embrace felt like the world had stopped on its axis, there was no time, no wind, no other person in the village, no zombies, your mind was at ease. How could one hug be like this? He stroked your hair as you stayed together, the feeling of being this close to another human being made you happy, it made yo both happy and craving more, but neither of you spoke about it, you pulled away and acting as though it was an exchange of pure joy between two old friends.

“I should go help Yoongi cook,” You lied rushing off leaving a stunned Jin behind in the field alone.

But it was time to go on another run now, you’d had many lessons since the hug but none of them had ended the same was the first one had, you and Jin were going to find a hospital again, you were hoping to stock on some painkillers, Jin had been complaining of headaches and so had Namjoon, and since they were in charge you didn’t expect anything less, they were under an intense amount of stress a lot of the time.

“Jin I want a quick and easy run, no detours, right there and right back,” Namjoon ordered as the gates opened up, Jin laughed pulling you out of the gates and into the streets, Namjoon was being a little overprotective over a run that had happened previously, someone had gotten hurt and it had shaken the entire camp up a little.

“You didn’t even let me get breakfast.” You whined to him as you walked in a new direction, they’d found a hospital closer to the chemical plant and Jin insisted on exploring it with you, which meant leaving earlier than usual to get there. It was 4 am and the sun was barely starting to rise.

“I had Yoongi make us something for lunch.” He laughed as you dramatically rubbed your stomach as if it was empty trying to act more dramatic.

“You’re such a baby!” He yelled poking your cheeks and taking your hand in his and pulling you along, you felt heat rush to your cheeks at the small action and looked at him, his ears were red which meant he was also blushing, you pushed your arm into his playfully and let go of his hand, rushing ahead towards some shops and looking around. Things with Jin were nice, it was easy to get along with, he was like an old friend and you found yourself telling him anything and everything, it felt like having a best friend, it was nice to spend time with someone and not feel like it was the end of the world, but at the same time, you still felt a little uneasy around him, since the hug you’d not been 100%. All he had to do was look at you and you would turn into a blushing mess, he made your heart skip a beat, small things like holding your hand, hugging you or even complementing you platonically, like friends would normally do only it made your heart flutter.

“This hospital is insane.” You whispered to Jin as you walked up to another flight of stairs, you’d been walking for four hours when you finally found it, the place looked like no one had been inside in years, nothing inside was boarded up, drawers were still stocked full of supplies. The only sign that it was abandoned was that the wallpaper was starting to peel off at the walls and some of the parts of the ceiling were starting to leak

“I guess people are too scared to get this close,” Jin said from behind you, it was true, people you’d run with before didn’t want to get this close in case anything could happen, you glanced at him for confirmation before opening up the door in front of you, you were on another floor full of rooms.

“Split up?” You questioned him, he nodded and walked down one end of the hall and you went in the opposite.

You found an operating room, stocked high with different medicines, needles, and other first-aid items, you just packed everything into the backpack you carried with you, you entered the next room finding painkillers and headache relief, you made sure to fit in everything you could before going to find Jin again.

“Jin?” You whispered going down to his end of the hall, a door creaked open and you looked inside to see nothing around, you walked further inside to see Jin on the ground, your heart began racing, you failed to breathe, it was as if someone was choking you, all you wanted to do upon seeing laying there was curl up into a ball and cry but you knew you couldn’t do that, you shut the door behind you and walked over to his body, to check him over for anything that could have happened.

“Jin? Jin, wake up.” You pleaded, tears springing to your eyes, you cleared your throat trying to find something to indicate why he was on the ground, but there was nothing, no blood, no scratches, no bite on his skin that was visible

“Jin seriously…You promised you wouldn’t die on me.” You whimpered out, he did, he’d promised you on the first run together nothing would happen to either of you and you didn’t have to worry about it. You let a tear run down your cheek, ready to leave him when he grabbed your wrist tightly, you let out a shriek and slapped him across the face, backing away and leaning against a wall.

“JIN!” You screamed at him, throwing a nearby box at his head, missing by a lot, he began laughing uncontrollably, it started as a small silent laugh but he slowly began laughing harder and harder even clapping a little at your reaction, normally you adored his laugh but this time you wanted to crawl into the corner and cry about it.

“I hate you.” You mumbled getting up from the floor and looking around the room for something to distract you from him, he was still laughing when he stood up on his feet, coming up behind you and trying to get you to talk to him.

“You’re evil Seokjin.” You said folding your arms across your chest and trying to act a little mad but it was hard because he looked so sad, he was giving you puppy dog eyes so you would you talk to him.

“You almost cried.” He said, you pushed away from him and over to the door ready to leave but it was stuck, you frowned trying to pull on it a little harder.

“It’s stuck.” You said, trying to push it and then pull but it was as if someone had jammed you inside, or something was blocking it from opening.

“Nice try,” You stood back raising an eyebrow as he tried to move the door as well, you began laughing as soon as he failed to do it as well.

“This is your fault.” You said coming over at trying to pull it some more but it wasn’t budging.

“Mine?” He yelled playfully at you, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“If you hadn’t scared me by pretending to be dead we wouldn’t be stuck!” You yelled at him, giving up and sitting against the door.

“Why were you so upset in the first place?” He joked but you ignored him and he felt bad because tears sprung to your eyes once again, he turned away from you taking out the emergency radio and getting it ready to phone home.

“I’ll radio Taehyung and get them to save us.”

“We’re going to have to get comfortable, Namjoon won’t let them out until morning,” Jin said coming over to you, you were sitting in front of the door staring at it as if that was going to magically be able to open the door for you.

“We still have some food left from our lunch.” He said coming down to sit next to you, he took out some containers from his bag and offered you some but you weren’t hungry, he laid down a blanket he’d carried in his bag so that you would both be comfortable for the night.

“Come on, you can’t still be mad at me.” He teased poking your cheek but you folded your arms across your chest and kept your eyes forward, trying not to cry in front of him, the thought of him being gone made your heartbreak

“I’m not.” You whispered you couldn’t be mad at him, he thought it would just be a joke, he didn’t know it would practically break your heart seeing him like that, but now you had seen him that way you realised your feelings for him were strong and weren’t going to go away any time soon, maybe it would be good to stay away from him for a while, to make the feelings go away, stop being around him so much all of the time.

“Maybe I should stop coming on runs.” You blurted out to him, his attention was pulled away from the food and he stared at you,

“It was just a joke, I didn’t think it would hurt you so much.” He continued rambling on but you were ignoring him, drowning it out, you just stared at his lips as he spoke, wishing they were on yours, wishing his hands were around you.

“It’s not the joke Jin…I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” You managed to say while he paused for a breath.

“Why?” You looked up at his eyes, he was tearing up now, something you didn’t expect.

“I just- I don’t think I should be out here…It’s-” You couldn’t lie to him, it was hard to lie to Jin, he’d taken you in and cared for you for so long, it was hard to lie to someone you had liked for so long.

“I just can’t stop thinking about you.” You admitted.

“After the day in the field, your arms around me, being that close to you, it made me realise I like you…then just now…seeing you like that…gone. I just don’t think I should be around you anymore, It’s clear you don’t feel the same way I do.” An awkward silence filled the air, then the sound of metal hitting a concrete floor. His lips were slammed onto yours, it nearly knocked you over onto your back, you didn’t even have a second to react before he pressed his tongue along your bottom lip, you allowed him access. It was a sloppy kiss but it as full of passion on both sides, your arms reached up and tangled into his hair tugging a little, letting out a giggle as he groaned into the kiss. His hands made their way down to your waist, he pulled you close and against his chest, his other hand running through your hair.

You both pulled away and stared at one another, you were straddling him now and he smiled up at you, pushing a strand of hair out of your face so he could look at you better.

“I’ve been wanting to do that the moment you hugged me.” He stated leaning up and giving you a small peck on the lips, you blushed bending down and connecting your lips once again.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment you saved my life.” You admitted the next second your back was against the floor, your arms were pinned above your head and he was leaning down to kiss you once again, you didn’t care that you were stuck in the hospital now, you had Jin to keep you entertained all night, Tae and Jungkook could take as long as they wanted coming to rescue you.

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flipwizardmcgay · 5 years ago

Note

While camping out in the woods during their current mission, Riz decides to sweep the surrounding area. Fabian goes with him for protection.

On his fourth lap of the area, Riz hears a rustling behind him and sighs, turning.

“I thought I told you, I’m fine! You don’t have to keep checking up on me, Fabian!”

Said half-elf looks strangely sheepish as he shrugs, moving closer to stand under the tree Riz has perched himself up in. “Well, you can’t blame me. Someone did get kidnapped two days ago by a creepy version of themselves.”

Riz groans, sitting down on his branch and looking for a good place to jump back down. “You guys need to let that go. I can handle myself, plus, I’m not lying anymore! So no creatures made of lies can get me now!”

“Yes, well. Forgive me for being worried about my best friend, then.” Fabian huffs, and Riz pauses, the beginning of an alarm bell starting to go off in his head as he shakes it a little.

“So you’re admitting it?” he asks, smirking a little as he jumps down and stares up at Fabian, who looks briefly confused before shrugging.

“Slipped out, I suppose. Don’t make a big deal out of it, Riz.”

At the sound of his name, Riz freezes, whole body going tense for just a moment before he forces himself to relax, not wanting to alert the other person with him.

“W-whatever man. Hey, let’s get back to camp. Gilear and Cathilda must be almost done with dinner by now, and I’ve done so many laps that we’ve gotta be good, right?”

Fabian agrees easily (too easily) and Riz has to force himself not to run back to the campsite, to stay calm even as every bone in his body screams at him to get out of there.

When they do make it back, Riz forces his way over next to Fig, who’s scribbling in her songwriting notebook, and takes it easily, Fig’s only resistance being an annoyed, “Hey!”

“Sorry, just wanted to add something.” Riz says, handing it back with one finger placed so that it’s pointing at where he’s scribbled, ‘msg now’.

Fig’s eyes go wide when she sees, and Riz feels her instantly in his head. What’s going on?! Did you find something?! How come we can’t speak?!

That’s not Fabian he’s one of those nightmare duplicates he called me his best friend and then called me Riz I don’t want to tip him off because we need him to tell us where the real Fabian is Riz tells her, jumbled and panicked as he watches the thing talk easily with Tacker, the girl looking unfazed.

Fig looks at Riz, studying him for a long moment before nodding, almost imperceptibly, and turning to face Adaine, the two of them seeming to have their own mental conversation before Adaine turns to “Fabian” and her eyes glow a brief, brilliant, blue.

Once they return to normal, she turns to Fig with a panicked look, Boggy ribbiting softly in her arms, and Fig nods again and closes her eyes.

Riz watches the changes go over the group as Message hits them each in turn, subtle yet relieving.

Raug blinks before stepping closer to “Fabian”, wrapping his arm over its shoulder with a smile, tight and not meeting his eyes. Cathilda turns to face the thing masquerading as her employer, narrowing her eyes just a bit, hand going to one of her daggers. Tracker moves to stand in front of Kristen, still talking, while Kristen closes her book and stands along with Gorgug. Sandralynn takes a step back towards the van, helping a terrified-looking Gilear in.

And with a shout of, “NOW!” accompanied with the strum of a bass guitar, everyone springs into action, Raug and Tracker throwing the imposter to the ground and holding it there along with Gorgug, surrounded by Sandralynn and Cathilda, weapons drawn and pointed at it.

Riz pulls his Arcubus out of its holster and joins them, holding it directly at the imposter’s face.

“Where is he?” Riz grits out, voice almost hissed through the gaps in his teeth with how hard he was clenching them.

“Wha-who? Riz, I don’t-” it stutters out, making Fabian’s face look genuinely terrified.

Riz shoves his gun closer. “Don’t. You’re not him, don’t even fucking try.”

Almost instantaneously, the duplicate’s face changes, familiar features turning sinister and wrong and warped, and it bares sharp teeth in an approximation of a smile, voice now a horrifying familiar rasp, “What gave me away, Riz Gukgak? Did you recognize your romance partner?”

Riz feels bile rise in his throat, a tremble in his voice as he repeats, “What did you do with Fabian? Th-the same thing you did to me?”

“Why would I tell you? You have treated your romance partner very poorly, Riz Gukgak. I had thought you’d be more agreeable to this form.”

“Shut up!” Riz tells, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. “You’re not, and never will be!”

“Ohhhh, but you want, don’t you? Did I not tell you, Riz Gukgak, to do what it is you most want to do?” it asks, baring the sharp, terrible teeth, the approximation of Fabian’s mouth growing way too wide with its smirk.

“Right now, what I want most is for you to tell me where fucking Fabian is!” Riz hisses, pressing the barrel up to the thing’s throat, trying to quell the panic rising in his chest that they’ll know they’ll know they can’t know-

It’s smile grows impossibly wider, sharper. “Is that so? Well, then, Riz Gukgak, you may find your other partner where I left him in the woods to rest, like in the tales he so admires. I am surprised you did not notice before-”

Riz fires, taking off running as fast as his legs can carry him as the body goes limp under Raug and Tracker’s arms, scanning the surrounding area almost frantically for familiar white hair and dark skin.

He finds Fabian under a large oak, face down and looking so still and silent that Riz almost vomits with anxiety.

But when he turns him over, as gently and carefully as he can with his clawed fingers, he can feel a heartbeat under his fingers, see the rise and fall of his chest.

“Hey, man, wake up.” Riz says, shaking him a little harder than necessary, panic rising again when Fabian doesn’t so much as move.

He thinks back to what the creature had said, searching for some clue, something he’d missed-

“Like the tales he so admires-”

No. No, it couldn’t be-

But they knew so little of the Nightmare King and his abilities, and if a being made of lies that had been sent over and over again to torment him was possible, who was to say that being cursed to sleep until kissed wasn’t? And-and the thing had known, hadn’t it, the depth of Riz’s buried, ignored feelings, had called them ‘romance partners’ and had chosen Fabian specifically, and it couldn’t hurt to try…

And if it didn’t, who would know?

Riz bites his lip, realizing he was talking himself into it, and leans down, hesitating once more a bit away from Fabian’s (perfect, smooth) lips before letting himself press his own chapped, bitten ones to Fabian’s.

Nothing happens, and Riz feels a hot wash of shame as he pulls away, tears and nausea rising as he clenches his eyes shut and sniffles-

And then there’s a hand, strong and firm yet oh-so-gentle as it threads into his hair, tugging him back down to collide again with Fabian’s mouth, which was suddenly kissing him back with a ferocity that seemed to underlie everything Fabian did.

Riz feels more than hears the noise he makes, a yelp and a sob mixed together as he practically collapses into the body underneath him, his own fingers fisting in Fabian’s stupid letterman, shaking with relief and leftover fear and confusion.

Fabian’s smiling at him when they finally part, something soft and real that makes Riz want to sob even more, and whispers, “I do hope I’m awake, The Ball.”

In response, Riz jabs one of his fingers into Fabian’s chest, making the other boy yelp and shoot upwards, scowling.

“Oh, see if I kiss you again.” Fabian grumbles at Riz’s almost hysterical snort, rubbing at the spot.

“Oh, yeah?” Riz asks, feeling almost unhinged, giddy and wild, the whiplash of emotions he’d been feeling for the past handful of minutes making him dizzy. “Well, good thing it’s my turn.”

Fabian’s faux hurt look blooms into another sweet, soft smile, and Riz can’t help himself from kissing it.

(“Uh. Aren’t you going to tell them you actually were the one to wake Fabian with a Dispel Magic?” Gorgug asks Adaine as the rest of them watch the new couple embrace once more.

Adaine shakes her head, patting Boggy as she turns back to camp. “Only if they’re positively relentless with the story. But I like this much better than him after my sister.”

“Fair ‘nough.” Kristen nods, cracking her own smile. “Oh, man, I’d love to see their faces at the truth, though.”)

#flip fics #fabriz #i got way out of hand with this #fantasy high #jamiebluewind

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cherryyharryy · 5 years ago

Text

Burning Words

Chapter Three: I’m the one who grades you

WC: 6.4k

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The air is sticky, humid, suffocating. The sun barely crosses the horizon, but it feels like it’s been on duty for hours. I tug at the collar of my sweatshirt to circulate some air between my skin and clothes, but I think it just makes things worse.

My apartment isn’t too far from class. Technically off campus, but close enough that I don’t have to worry about owning a car. But days like these make me wish I had one. I run my sleeve over my forehead and slow my gait once I’m in view of all the early risers who are scrambling to get to class on time.

I reach the English building, rounding the corner once I’m inside to see Harry and Danielle arguing beside the door to our class. I swallow past a dry throat and take a few steps back so I’m out of sight, checking the time on my phone. It’s two ‘til eight. My nerves prickle with the idea of being late, but each time I think about walking by those two, my legs refuse to move.

He’s animated, gesticulating with purpose, brows knitted together, ascetic, defeated. Despite the empty halls, I cannot decipher a single word, only strings of half-bitten syllables coming from the both of them. Something about manipulation and did you seriously think and you owe me. Danielle remains calm, at least from what I can tell of the back of her head, while Harry’s face grows red.

I only watch for a few minutes until someone exits a room opposite our class. Harry and Danielle separate on impulse. She’s the first to leave, storming off down the hall with her hair flowing behind her. Harry stays put, his head bent at the neck, staring at the ceiling. He’s frozen for a moment or two, and then he shakes out his shoulders, sucks in a breath, and heads into class.

I slip inside, and take my usual seat not long after, and fan myself discreetly with the note cards I made last night. Dr. Pierce begins class today, straying off topic as I’ve found he’s keen on doing, until Harry redirects the discussion by clearing his throat.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Styles has your graded reports to hand back.”

“Most everyone did exceptionally well.” Harry steps back to the desk and gathers a stack of papers. I gulp. “Some of you however, didn’t seem to grasp the instructions...I hope you can learn from this mistake before any future assignments.”

Was he looking at me? Was he talking to me? Surely the shake of his head was intended for someone else. Maybe the guy in the back who falls asleep each class, or the girl who’s missed three weeks in a row. Maybe—

“As I was saying, if you have any questions or concerns, drop by my office sometime this week.”

He straightens his posture and begins reciting the names of everyone in the room. One by one, students shuffle to the front. When my name is called, I might as well be marching up to a guillotine.

I know I did well. Jessie read it, my mom, Ms. Bortnick, the student writing center...other than a handful of grammar mistakes...this was just a book report after all. Why am I so nervous?

“Remember, if you’d like to discuss your grade you can see me during my office hours. And my office hours only.”

Don’t expect a perfect score, don’t expect a perfect score...

Fuck. Red marks are everywhere, between the lines, in the margins, and topping it all off is a giant 27 circled at the top. No. Fuck no.

I look up and Harry is already pulling up a powerpoint, ready to continue the discussion on The Catcher in the Rye, but I can barely make it back to my seat. Where is my seat? What planet am I on? What the hell is happening? Hypothermia, suffocation, immolation...which one, pick one, it doesn’t matter anyway.

I find my chair and sink down. He’s cruel, possibly morbid, because this is a sick joke. And I don’t want to hear him or see him or feel his movements through the vibrations when he’ll undoubtedly find his way to my row and tap on the desk, so I pull out my headphones like the kind of student my grade represents and pretend the last five minutes did not just happen.

***

It’s the guy who chews his gum unreasonably loud that nudges me awake as he’s leaving. He looks back over his shoulder, smacking away, to see that I get up. Everyone’s just an ass today. And there to greet me upon knuckling away the fogginess in my eyes is Harry’s handwriting in what might as well be my blood. I don’t even want to know what horrible thing I did to deserve this.

“Excuse me, Dr. Pierce?”

He’s cleaning up his desk, smiling when he looks up to me. “What can I help you with?”

I look down at my report, and hold it out between pinched fingers like it’s toxic. “M—my grade. It’s...bad. Really bad,” I dry laugh. “I’ve never done this...bad.”

“Well, Mr. Styles graded these reports so you’re better off asking him. You can leave it with me, but it’ll be awhile before I get a chance to look at it. I still have last week’s quizzes to finish up for you all.” He’s still smiling. This is just a joke for all of them, isn’t it? “But he’ll have whatever answers you’re looking for.”

I turn, slowly, like a child in trouble, to see Harry standing by the door. His shoulders slouch unusually low and rigid, and his nose is a hot red. He’s toeing at the ground while students file out of the room.

I’ve only ever approached him one other time, and it was just because Dr. Pierce had to step out for a phone call. A couple of weeks ago, we had to partner up for a writing assignment, and to no one’s surprise, our uneven numbered class left me standing alone by my desk, flashbacks from middle school invading my brain.

With great reluctance, I inched my way to the front where Harry was sat at Pierce’s desk, busy grading some of our work. I cleared my throat which earned his attention, and bitterly told him of my dilemma, and how I had no problem in working alone.

“No, that’s not necessary. We can find you a pair to work with. You can just divide the work up between three people.”

He wore a smile as he led the way back towards the class, clapping his hands to silence the chatter.

“We’re going to have one group of three, any volunteers?”

If a meteor had been headed for Earth in the very place I was standing, I wouldn’t have moved.

“Anyone?” He asked, when not a single pair made a move to accept me. “It’ll be less work on you individually,” he bargained.

He had turned to me, keeping his smile up as best he could and motioned for me to follow him. If I was someone else, someone who didn’t fight off a panic attack each time I had to type out an email or place my order at a restaurant, I would have spoken up. I would have told Harry—Mr. Styles—that I didn’t need his help. That I was fine by myself. Or that I could have found my own group. That I really, really didn’t want to work with Danielle, despite not having a reason.

But I am me, unfortunately, so in a blur of a memory I want to forget, the next thing I remember is sliding in a desk beside the girl who kissed Harry on the cheek when he bent down to pick up her pencil.

He blushed and told her to stop. She didn’t, going in for another before he could say anything else. The other girl just cooed at them like they were puppies, and for once I was thankful no one pays attention to me, or else my eye roll might have rubbed them the wrong way.

“This is due before class is over, so get to work.”

And, as expected, as my life typically turns out, I was responsible for the entire assignment. I wrote nearly three pages worth of quotes from To Kill a Mockingbird while Danielle talked about Harry and how cute he is, and how good of a grade she’s gonna get, and how he’s just too sweet for his own good.

“Do you need anything, y/n?” Harry’s voice shakes me from my thoughts.

I look around to see we’re the only two left. He’s closing out of the powerpoint, raising his brows at me from behind the desk.

I shake my head. No. This is not what I want. Fuck. I’m back at my seat, shoving this wretched report into my bag. He says my name as I’m leaving but I don’t bother looking back.

•••

I stuff my change into my purse and bid the cashier a soft goodbye. My steps heading out of the grocer’s are timid, avoiding slick spots of water that customers drag in from the rain. A woman steps through the door, the bell shrieking in her presence as she shakes the rain off her coat. I brush what I can off my arm. She sees me but doesn’t say a word.

A clap of thunder greets me once I’m outside. It’s chilly, and yet I still feel like it’s summer. And here I thought that Georgia weather was crazy.

Bustlings of mothers and their small children, college kids, and an elderly man hurry past me while I secure myself under the green and white striped awning. Curtains of water pour down from all four sides; it disrupts my view. I have four plastic grocery bags gripped in my hands, a headache looming at the base of my neck, and the growing acceptance that there is no way I am going to make it to the student lounge unscathed by Mother Nature: I had forgotten my umbrella.

With a grumble I’ll share with Jessie tomorrow, I burst through the shroud of freezing rain, only to plow right into a hard body.

“M’so sorry, sorry,” I throw out. I earn a slew of curse words from the old man, and with nothing more in return, I am left to scramble along the sidewalk for the contents of my bags alone. Thick, icy drops hammer onto me.

Until they’re not.

A veil of rain encloses around me. When I look up the clouds are gone, but a large, leopard print umbrella has taken their place.

What pains me more than the source itself, is the tingling electric shocks pricking me from the inside-out at the sound of a deep, British accent. It vibrates, I conclude, and I feel it in my ribs, strumming, burning, like making a snowball with your bare hands. The sound is conflicting. I don’t know if his voice is noise or not. I swallow and yank a box of tampons off the gritty sidewalk. He says my name.

And I don’t bother to look up, hoping he’ll carry on and leave me to endure the rest of this embarrassing moment by myself. I’ve had practice. I’m good at it. But then he’s reciting my name once again, and I don’t know how I feel about a man using what is mine to get my attention. I sigh roughly, and peer up to Harry hovering over me.

He’s in nice clothes, hair plastered to his face, translucent skin, red nose. His mouth moves, but all I hear is rain. Lightning strikes off in the distance and I wonder what his eyes would look like in the heat. I’m still kneeling on the ground when he crouches down.

“I’m busy, so if you don’t—”

“Do you need help?”

“No.” I have to crawl and stretch my arms in different directions to gather the rest of my things. He does the best he can to follow me with the umbrella, and once I’m back on my feet with my arms full, he steps forward so I’m protected once again. I want to cry.

“Do you—would you like a ride home?”

“No.” I make it three steps before he’s back by my side and shielding me again.

“It looks like you do.”

“Then you’re obviously not looking hard enough. I don’t need your help.” I linger for a second, my face scorched with a black heat, realizing those are the words I chose, before attempting to step away.

His cologne persists even through the downpour, growing stronger as he repeats his actions and brings the two of us together once more, only this time he cradles my elbow with his free hand and urges me to move out of the way of two teenage girls. “We’re blocking traffic.”

“You are. I need to go, so if you don’t mind…” I wriggle my arm and he slips his hand off my skin.

“The walk back to the dorms will take you twenty minutes.”

“That would be a problem if I was going to the dorms. I have my own apartment.”

“Where—wait—Stone Bridge? By that small park? That’s even farther.” His accent is thicker, ellipsed and coated in syrup. I blame the rain. “Let me drive you over there.”

I’m soaked, so much so that my bones are getting wet. No one looks good in the rain. But he does and I know I do not. And he teaches literature, I do not. He has a car and I do not. He is something and I am... I’m backing up now. I’m confident that my soul has left my body and is hovering over me, shaking her head, not wanting to associate herself with me any longer. I wonder who he would pick to protect from the rain now? Me or her? I can only hope the mascara dragging down my face will be enough to scare him off. Go help her, she’s innocent and I am not.

“There is no way in hell that you’re doing me any favors, okay. I’d rather lightning burn me to a crisp. At least I wouldn’t have to see you in class ever again.”

“Is this about your grade?”

“No! It is not about my grade! It’s about you—”

I lose my footing, scrambling to catch myself, but I fail triumphantly when my entire backside collides with the sidewalk. I wish a flaming bolt of lightning had struck me right there on the sidewalk outside of Jo’s Market; it’d be more convenient. But instead of sizzling away on the pavement, I am holding back tears with every ounce of strength I can summon while Harry abandons his umbrella to fall to his knees beside me. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“Here, lemme help you up.”

I don’t have the energy to push away his hands as they find appropriate places to support my body. I rise at an angle, partially because all my things are back on the ground and now I have to start all over, and the more presiding reason is the stifling pain in my ankle. His fingers dig into my arm and my side, somehow strong but not terribly so. Why did the image of small fingerprint bruises cross my mind? Hopefully the rain will cleanse my thoughts.

“Can you stand?” He asks. I haven’t added weight to my leg, and he gets his answer before I can respond. “Your ankle—here.” Smoothly, he maneuvers himself so my arm is draped over his shoulder, his arm wrapping around my back as a crutch. We are stuck together, forming our own three-legged race towards the parking lot. All that big talk I did moments ago, and now I’m not sure if I’m allowed to protest. I forget how to speak anyway, so it doesn’t matter.

The seats of his car are leather, and I am glued to them. It smells like him and I find myself taking deeper breaths, ushering his perfume as deep into my lungs as they allow. It makes my eyes flutter and my cheeks warm. My soul is missing out. The air is a sedative, and she could use the rest.

“I’m goin’ to get your stuff. Wait here.”

I’m not sure if he is trying to be funny, but I don’t laugh. He returns a minute later and tosses my bags into the trunk, folds his umbrella and shakes it out as if that would cut down on the flood the both of us are bringing into his car, and slides into the driver’s seat. He slips his glasses off and uses his shirt to clean the lenses.

“I think I’m okay. I mean I think I can walk.” I try not to wince.

His eyes are different in the car than they were outside, and even more different than in class. “You can’t even put your foot down in here.” He rolls his eyes and suddenly I don’t want his scent in my body any longer. “I’m—just let me take you. It’s a ten minute drive.”

“Not to my apartment.”

“What?” He puts the car back in park after having backed up an inch.

“My roommate’s boyfriend is visiting. He lives in Wyoming.” I pause, but realize it’s not enough information. “I promised to stay out for a bit tonight so they could...y’know...catch up.”

“Well what were you planning on doing then?”

“Was just gonna, I don’t know, hang around campus. There’s a rec room.”

“No.”

“No?”

“You can’t go sit, soaking wet in a cold ass lounge for hours with a busted ankle.”

“It’s just twisted, it’ll ease up fine by morning.”

“Is there somewhere else you can stay? A friend’s room?” He starts the car again and I squirm to face him, changing my mind immediately. His eyes are swollen, beaten, a criminal red. I’ve only been high a few times, but I’ve cried enough to hold a record.

“No I’ll be fine, just take me back to school, please. The library is fine, it’s closer.”

“I’m not—I can’t,” he sighs, “Okay, what about the hospital? They can take a look at you.”

“No. No thanks.”

“I don’t feel comfortable leaving you all alone. What if something happens? You can’t even walk, love.”

I ignore the flush of heat making its way from the top of my head to the twinging pain down below. In fact, I ignore a lot of things, like how drops of water take their time crawling down his neck, or how his shirt adheres to his body like a second skin. His knuckles swivel and pulse with each turn he makes. And then I remember I’m moving.

“What um,” he clears his throat and his fingers tighten around the wheel, knuckles no longer dancing. “My—I could take you to my apartment. S’not far from yours.”

I keep my gaze trained on his hands. I need to look at him but his eyes would be too much, his face would be too much. It’s odd, the shift in everything but my focus. He is no longer the man that stands tall in front of a group of people and speaks with purpose. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, and before I utter a response, he’s offering up more of his thoughts.

“Only if you want to, of course. I’m not trying—I don’t wanna pressure you, given our...dynamic.”

“Our dynamic?”

“Yeah...you’re my—I mean we’re...fuck. I don’t want you to think I’m implying anything, or that our relationship inside the classroom will be affected either way. My roommate’s out of town with family, so, there’s a spare room. That’s what I’m saying.”

We are at a red light. The wipers squeal and squelch against the glass, back and forth, rhythmic. I grow tired, drowsy in the warmth of his car, and then he starts driving again. We’re moving along below the speed limit, and when he stops at a crosswalk, he turns the heat up.

It no longer feels like we are in New York, everything is so slow. It feels like I’m in a movie, only I have to come up with my lines all on my own and Harry is actually sad, not acting, and tomorrow I’ll wake up and remember the way he looked under an umbrella.

“Um, I guess that would be okay.” My voice barely presides over the wipers. His fingers relax, and his knuckles swim again. “As long as I’m not bothering you.”

“No, not at all. Like I said, roommate’s gone, so it’s just me.”

***

His apartment is foreign. Metallic and earthy, a serene jungle, much more aesthetically pleasing than mine. I feel a syringe filled with tree bark and old books and mint shoot into my veins when he looks at me. This is his territory, and I feel intrusive.

It is dark and navy, indigo, washed woods. Copper pots hang from a rack over the sink. The rugs all match one another, and a painting of a mermaid hangs on one wall. The outdoors are brought inside, almost like a fairy god from a damp forest had decorated this space. The splash of color is a mustard gold.

A secretary’s desk sits under the window, abruptly capturing a 1940’s moment. Books and papers litter the top. It is the messiest part of the room, and I wonder how untamed he might be with early morning light striking his unwashed face while he makes notes in a book we’d be discussing in class. I wonder if he jots down the questions he fires at me in class, scribbles my name in red ink and underlines it three times, bulleting a list of possible things I’ll say.

The rain beats against the window, and yet somehow I can still see with my eyes closed.

He stands at the sink in nothing but boxers, sipping on coffee much too strong for me while thumbing through a newspaper.

He sits poised in the navy armchair, reading 18th century literature I never would be able to digest.

He leans against the bookcase, strumming the guitar, and only stopping to sip on wine more expensive than me and adding notes to a music sheet I can’t understand.

“You okay?”

My thoughts blurr away and Harry is back in focus. He drips all over the floor, and as I follow a drop of rain down his jaw—it had come from his hair, and landed on his left hand—I remember that I am a mess.

“Yeah, m’good.”

“Let me get you a towel. I know you probably want a shower, but I’d feel better if you didn’t. You’re still pretty wobbly and I’m not the best in emergencies.” He speaks over his shoulder with his back to me while he rummages through a small closet. I imagine myself arguing with him, because he appears to be the exact kind of person you’d want in an emergency, but figure we’ve done enough of that already.

“Thanks.” The towel is soft and green. He leaves me to dry off in peace, rounding a neck-high bookcase that works as a divider between the front entryway and the kitchen.

I shuffle closer to the living room and rub down my body, although it does little good. My clothes are suctioned to me. I pick at the fabric and pry it off my skin, which only erupts another round of chills.

I take a moment, while I’m unattended, to scan my eyes over his home. It’s cozy and lived in. If I take a few steps I can see around the bookcase. Harry’s hunched over the sink, his hands gripping the counter’s edge. His shoulders shake slightly, which reinforces the cold I feel on my own. Head bowed, I see him suck in a deep breath before straightening his form, sighing at his phone. He starts to move and I jump back out of sight.

“Ow—shit!”

“Y/n?” He hurries around to see me in all my fine glory. “What happened?”

I look up at him from the floor, sighing defeatedly. “I—I just tripped. I’m fine.”

“Okay, your ankle is worse than I thought. I’m taking you to the h—”

“No, really. It wasn’t my ankle, just, I’m a klutz.”

“The student clinic is still open. I can have them take a look at you.” He grabs his keys off the counter and pauses, tossing them back. “Sorry,” he sighs, “I—I don’t know where my head’s at today.” He bends down and hooks his arm under my back and lifts me up so I’m standing, well, leaning into him. “I’ve got some clothes for you to change into.”

“No I’m fine.”

“You want to stay in your wet clothes?”

He doesn’t sound accusatory. Sad, he almost sounds sad. I shake my head, my mouth fumbling over silent words as I scream at myself from the inside. “I, I just mean, I don’t wanna be a bother and—”

“I wouldn’t have offered.”

I gulp and nod, our conversation ending there as he helps me sit in one of two chairs at a small metal table that divides the kitchen and living room. He disappears behind me, and I’m left alone to summon whatever force I’m capable of to prevent any tears from escaping.

My efforts are distracted when his phone vibrates on the counter. Again and again it goes off, working its way to the edge. I’m sure it won’t fall, but with each round of movement, that seems increasingly untrue. I grip the seat of my chair and shuffle over the foot or so I need to be able to reach up and push his phone further back, but then I pause, and peer over my shoulder, still no sign of Harry, and selfishly slip his phone into my hand.

His screen is filled with Danielle’s name. It’s enough to make me force the phone away, back on the counter where another message rolls in. I didn’t see much, only the most recent of texts—you're being a dick about this!!!

“Here, think this might fit you. And I’ll throw your clothes in the dryer.” Harry returns, having changed himself, and sets a hoodie with our school’s name on it and a pair of grey sweats on the table.

“Thanks,” I mutter.

He helps me up, but as soon as we turn around he freezes. “Uh, why don’t you change here. In the kitchen. That’s where my dryer is anyway.” He nods to a little alcove homing twin laundry appliances. “I’ll wait in my room. Once you’re done we can head out.”

After assuring him I’m capable of dressing myself, he leaves. It feels wonderful to finally get my soaked clothes off, but once they are, the panic starts to creep it’s way up my spine. Despite his eyes not being on me, I feel exposed. And inappropriate, perhaps, for me to be standing stark naked in my TA’s kitchen.

I scramble to get dressed, thankful for the loose clothing since my bra and underwear will have to be dried too. I shove my things into his dryer and set the timer, holding my breath while I call for Harry.

“Don’t—I’ll come get you,” he rushes over to me and takes what is now the usual position of his arm around my back to help me walk. “Go slow, we don’t have to hurry.”

Without a layer of wet fabric drawing my attention, his touch feels that much more warm. I tentatively raise my arm to rest right below his neck, my hand using his shoulder for support.

And if I said I was able to ignore how his muscles felt beneath my fingers or how his rough voice sounded in my ear, I’d be a liar. But I try anyway, and lie to myself the whole way back to campus.

***

“You guys are cutting it close,” I hear the nurse tell Harry. He looks over his shoulder at me and turns back. I’m slumped in one of the waiting chairs while he signs me in. “We close in about ten minutes.”

“You’re still gonna see her though, right? She’s...in a lot of pain. Please.”

The nurse sighs and gives Harry a tempered look. “Have her fill these out. Quickly.”

“If we’re too late it’s fine,” I tell him when he sits down beside me. “And since we’re here, I can just go to the library like I planned.”

He turns to face me, a smile creeping its way onto his face. “Let me think about that...no.”

“Excuse me?”

“How do you plan on getting there?”

“Well, you.”

“Nope. My services are for trips to my apartment. Or yours. If you wanna hobble your way, allll the way to the other side of campus, to wait in a cold, dark library all by yourself and—”

“Okay, okay. I—”

“Are you filling out your paperwork or chatting?” The nurse interrupts.

I’m filled with heat at being caught, but stifle my laugh nonetheless when Harry rolls his eyes. “Fill that out before we get in trouble.”

My name is called minutes after Harry turns in my clipboard, and we’re led to a small room in the back. I refuse the exam table, knowing he’d have to help lift me to get me up there, and opt for one of the chairs in the room instead.

In less than a breath, a tall woman donned in a white coat comes in. Her demeanor serves opposite places with the nurse up front, smiling big and wide as she shuts the door and shakes both mine and Harry’s hand.

“I’m Dr. Reynolds,” she introduces herself before taking a seat on a rolling stool, eyeing the paperwork I filled out earlier. “So, looks like you’ve twisted your ankle.”

“I tripped and fell on the sidewalk...I’m not even sure what I did to hurt it.”

“Can you put weight on it?”

I look to Harry, for whatever reason, as if he has the answer. “Uh,” I clear my throat, “not really. It hurts to do so.”

“Okay, well—do you mind?” Dr. Reynolds rolls over to me and reaches down, waiting for my nod before she slowly pulls up the leg of Harry’s sweat pants to the middle of my calf. “Yeah,” she sighs knowingly, “you’re pretty swollen.”

“Could it be broken?” Harry chimes in from beside me, his voice thick and rough.

“How did you fall exactly?”

I blink a few times, recalling the memory, but I have to force my way through images of Harry in the rain with red eyes and an umbrella. “I kinda fell backwards. On the edge of the sidewalk, like I lost my footing.”

Dr. Reynolds hums and wheels back to the computer. “I’m leaning more towards a sprain or strain—but we can’t rule out a break until we get you x-rayed.”

“But, aren’t you about to close for the day? Do I have time?”

“We’ll run over a bit today, but it’s not a problem,” she smiles. “We have a wheelchair in another room I can get you. Then we’ll take the x-ray, and hopefully send you home without a broken diagnoses.”

***

“Lemme get you a towel.”

I don’t have time to protest before Harry dashes out of the bedroom. My knees pinch and sting when I lean over my legs to adjust the bag of ice sitting on my ankle. The cold burns already, and I’m not sure if I’ll make the full twenty minutes of icing before ripping the bag off my skin.

Harry stays silent when he returns, folding a dish towel and placing it between my ankle and the bag.

“Thank you.” I start to shift on the bed, but regret it immediately when Harry jumps in place and then bends over me to straighten the pillows behind me.

“This alright?”

“Yeah, I’m uh, I’m good.”

“Okay—” he stops his own sentence, pinching the air before he’s out of the room again.

I sigh and try to move my attention away from my ankle. It’s only a sprain, and a minor one at that, but the swelling hasn’t ceased any, and the weight I put on it after Harry got me back into his apartment earned me a sharp twinge of pain and a disapproving glare.

I scan my eyes over the room. It’s a little too dark to make heads or tails out of anything other than the furniture. I hiss when I try to shift again, and yank the ice off my skin. I wrap the bag in the towel to keep the water from dripping anywhere, and set it on the nightstand, nudging a copy of 1984 out of the way.

Harry bustles through the door a moment later, kicking it closed behind him. He looks down at the drink in his hands, chewing on his lip. “All I have is lemonade.”

“Thank you.” I hold back the smile I am supposed to offer. He looks relieved when I take the glass and a sip, nodding and relaxing his shoulders. “I uh...I did want to ask you…” I test the words, wait for the line to appear between his brows before finishing, “about my grade.” He does nothing more than narrow his eyes. I swallow and push my thoughts out. “You failed me.”

He blinks, rolling his lips in. “I did. But we can discuss this later. I—you need to rest.”

“O—okay.” I clear my throat and change the subject. “You play the guitar?”

“A bit.” His lips curl a little like he wants to smile, but they don’t quite make it.

I hum and bring the covers close to my nose.

“Can I get you anything?”

He stands over me as I sink further into the bed. I shake my head.

“Okay, well—why is this not on your ankle?” He picks the ice up and tries to return it back to my leg, but I move too quickly, letting my foot hang over the bed. “Intervals of twenty minutes,” he hums. “C’mon.” He nods to my leg.

I manage to hold back any sounds when I settle my foot back on the bed, but judging by Harry’s tsk, I know my face is a dead giveaway to my pain.

“See? Gotta keep this on here,” he’s particular when adjusting the towel and bag, “you won’t get better, love, if you don’t take care of yourself.”

My mouth fills with heat, so all I’m capable of doing is nodding. He makes a show of setting a twenty minute alarm on a clock by the bed, clearing his throat as he quickly scoops up the contents of the nightstand; the book, nail polish, and a cherry chapstick, shoving them into a drawer in a dresser across the room.

“You can, well you can stay as long as you’d like. Overnight I mean.” He coughs into his fist. “Just yell for me if you need anything. I’m listening, always. I’ll be...I’ll be in my room. Stay off that ankle.”

I nod, but make plans to wobble out of here as soon as I can. I’m not exactly an invited guest, and for all I know, I could be ruining his schedule...working or studying. A date. He clearly wasn’t in the best mood when we ran into each other this afternoon, and I’m sure having to babysit me doesn’t help any. My skin crawls; how could I have been so careless to not see when I’m being a burden? I’m usually pretty perceptive, or at least, I assume the worst anyway just as a precaution. You idiot.

He looks over his shoulder, his glasses reflecting what little light fought through the clouds and rain. “Okay, well, I’ll let you be.” he faces the door again, but when he looks back his lip does curl this time. “I’d offer you a book...but I know where that’ll get us.”

***

My ankle stings, but not enough to where I can’t stand on it. I still make sure to occupy my weight on the opposite leg as I crack the door open and peer into Harry's living room. It is early, still dark, and the quiet has me kicking myself for falling asleep last night, forcing me into this twisted walk of shame I am about to endure.

Would he be awake? Dressed? Annoyed that I am still here? His courtesy had been offered out of pity, this I am sure of, and I have foolishly overstayed my welcome. All that is missing is the bed sheet draped over my naked body while he asks me to step out so he can put his clothes back on.

“Harry?”

I can taste the silence. It is unnerving. A few more utterances of his name yield the same result, and I find myself standing in the middle of his living room, dropping the imaginary sheet because he is not there to scrutinize my morning appearance.

There is only one other door beside the one I have just came from, and I press my ear against it for any sign of his presence. Again, there is nothing but the sound of my own pulse.

“Harry?”

I tap my knuckles against the wood...still nothing, and when I yank the courage from the bottom of my gut to open it, I am met with a clean bathroom, still humid and smelling of soap. My face twists and it’s not until I spin around to see a thick blanket covering the couch cushions that my brain finally pieces everything together...but surely he didn’t...fabricate a roommate?

What little energy I woke up with escapes my body. I feel weighed down while making my way to the kitchen. My things are sat neatly on the counter. He’s moved my groceries into a canvas tote and laid out a bottle of water and aspirin beside my folded clothes.

When I sling the bag over my shoulder a slip of paper floats off the counter and flutters to the ground. I grab it and smooth it against my thigh.

I was running late this morning, but there's cereal in the cabinet beside the fridge. Please don’t try to walk back. I can reimburse you for an Uber later—remember, I’m the one who grades you.

I’ll be in the library today around 2.

Bring your report.

Harry

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Thank you @aileenacoustic @fromyourstrulyh and @bathrobesinparadise for beta reading for me!!!!!

#ta!harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles story #burning words

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