#THE ROAD IS A BAD NESTING PLACE YOURE SUPPOSED TO RUN AWAY WHEN FACED WITH A GIANT DOG

[theorphaninthetardis]

Chapter Forty-Nine

The group stop, gazing over the side of a cliff, where covering the entire cliff face is a group of high tech looking buildings.

"Is that a city?" Sophie asks, gazing out.

"A city or a hive, or a nest, or a conglomeration. Like it was grown," the Doctor muses. He then points out at the building's, "But look, there. That's like pathways, roads? Must have been some sort of life, long ago."

"What killed it?" Martha asks, gazing at the Time Lord.

"Time. Just time. Everything's dying now. All the great civilizations have gone. This isn't just night. All the stars have burned up and faded away into nothing."

Jack gazes up at the sky, "They must have an atmospheric shell. We should be frozen to death."

"Well, Martha, Sophie, and I, maybe. Not so sure about you, Jack."

"What about the people? Does no one survive?" Martha asks.

"I suppose we have to hope life will find a way."

"Well, he's not doing too bad," Jack points. There's a man running through the remnants of the city, a larger group of people are chasing them.

"Is it me, or does that look like a hunt?" the Doctor asks them. He doesn't wait for a response, taking off after the man, "Come on!"

Sophie rolls her eyes, and follows after the Time Lord. Martha and Jack fall in behind her. "Oh, I've missed this," Jack smiles.

Sophie turns to look at him incredulously, "How the h*ll did you miss this?"

"Hush up, and run."

They quickly catch up with the running man, and Jack skids to a halt, catching him, "I've got you."

The man pants furiously, "They're coming! They're coming!"

They see the tribe coming, and Jack grabs his revolver from within the confines of its holster. He aims it at the tribe, preparing to pull the trigger.

The Doctor frowns deeply, "Jack, don't you dare!"

The Captain rolls his eyes, and moves his gun, firing straight into the air. The tribe skid to a halt at the loud noise. "What the h*ll are they?" Martha shouts.

"There's more of them," the man states, and moves to race off again, "We've got to keep going."

The Doctor places a hand on his chest to stop him. He points back up to the cliff top, and says, "I've got a ship nearby. It's safe. It's not far, it's over there." More of the tribesmen appear over the cliff faces racing for the group. "Or maybe not," he sighs.

"We're close to the silo. If we get to the silo, then we're safe," the man says.

The Doctor turns and looks at his friends, "Silo?"

"Silo," Jack agrees.

Martha raises her hand, "Silo for me."

Sophie sighs, "Honestly, I'd rather stay here than do more running." Jack elbows her, "Fine, let's head to this silo."

They take off running again, the stranger leading the way. As they arrive at a large base, the man shouts out, "It's the Futurekind! Open the gate!"

A guard stops, and points a gun at them, "Show me your teeth! Show me your teeth! Show me your teeth!"

"Show him your teeth!" the stranger demands.

They all immediately grimace, doing their best to show off their teeth. Apparently the guard sees what he wants, and begins to open the gate, "Let them in! Let them in!"

They barely get through, when the gates are already being closed again. The Futurekind try to approach the gates, and the guard at the front fires his machine gun at the ground in front of them. "Go back to where you came from. I said, go back. Back!"

Jack rolls his eyes, and leans toward the Doctor, "Oh, don't tell him to put his gun down."

"He's not my responsibility," the Time Lord responds.

"And I am? Huh, that makes a change."

Sophie chuckles, and wraps her arms around one of each of theirs, "Come now, children, behave."

The Doctor pulls away, and walks over to the guard, as the tribe begins to back away. "Thanks for that."

"Right," the guard says, "Let's get you inside."

The stranger introduces himself as Padra, and after that Sophie tunes him out, gazing instead around the facility. She tunes back in when the Doctor's voice pierces her ears, "It looks like a box, a big blue box. I'm sorry, but I really need it back. It's stuck out there."

Padra interrupts him, "I'm sorry, but my family were heading for the silo. Did they get here? My mother is Kistane Shafe Cane. My brother's name is Beltone."

The guard sighs, "The computers are down but you can check the paperwork." He turns and yells down a nearby corridor, "Creet! Passenger needs help."

A young boy, probably around the age of ten, comes from the corridor, clipboard in hand, "Right. What do you need?"

Padra walks over to him, while the guard turns back to the Doctor, "A blue box, you said."

The Time Lord nods, "Big, tall, wooden. Says Police."

"We're driving out for the last water collection," the guard sighs, "I'll see what I can do."

The Doctor smiles in thanks. The boy calls back over his shoulder, and the group follow him down the corridor. There are people lining all of the walls of every corridor. Most of them are sleeping, but some watch their eyes trailing as the group pass. There are photos on the walls over each group of people, most likely their loved ones.

Martha looks around in a mixture of awe and horror. "It's like a refugee camp."

Jack takes a deep breath, and makes a face, "Stinking." A woman frowns at him as he walks by, "Oh, sorry. No offence. Not you."

"Don't you see that?" the Doctor smiles, "The ripe old smell of humans. You survived. Oh, you might have spent a million years evolving into clouds of gas, and another million as downloads, but you always revert to the same basic shape. The fundamental humans. End of the universe and here you are. Indomitable!" he shakes the hand of one of the men lined along the wall, "That's the word. Indomitable! Ha!"

Creet and Padra walk through the people, shouting for anyone who could be his family. A woman stands, and she and Padra immediately embrace.

Sophie smiles, and looks over at Jack and Martha, "At least it isn't all bad news."

A man standing nearby, stands up suddenly. Jack turns, and offers him his hand, "Captain Jack Harkness," he smiles, flirting, "And who are you?"

From across the room, the Doctor turns, "Stop it." Jack exchanges a look with Sophie, and they both turn to find the Doctor fidgeting with a control on the wall, "Give us a hand with this. It's half deadlocked. I need you to overwrite the code. Let's find out where we are."

Jack shrugs, and walks over to the Time Lord. Sophie follows behind him, and they slip the doors open. The Doctor leans in to see what's in the room, and nearly falls in the area surrounding a giant rocket ship.

Jack grabs him by the back of his collar, keeping him from falling in. "How did you cope without me?"

Sophie laughs. "Who said he did. He's died more times than I care to mention."

"Nine times," the Doctor says, turning on her, "That's really not that many!"

She nods slowly, "I've never died." She turns, "Have you Martha?"

The medical student shakes her head, "No, never."

Jack raises a hand, "I've died many times."

She waves her hand, telling him to shut up, "You don't count. That's a nice rocket."

The Doctor clears his throat, and straightens his posture, "They're not refugees, they're passengers."

"He said they were going to Utopia," Martha gestures at Padra.

The Doctor sighs, and leans against the door frame, "The perfect place. Hundred trillion years, it's the same old dream." He glances over his shoulder at Jack, "You recognise those engines?"

He leans around the Time Lord, "Nope. Whatever it is, it's not rocket science." He tugs at his shirt collar a few times, "But it's hot, though."

Sophie presses a few buttons on the keypad, the door sliding closed again. The Doctor nods at the Captain, "Boiling. But if the universe is falling apart, what does Utopia mean?"

[plainbrunettelbl]

ABO HC How (A) Todoroki, (A) Bakugo, and (A) Hawks would react to finding the (O) Reader held hostage:

Word count: 3199

Warnings: Cursing, violence, mentions of blood, and assault.   

Title: ABO HC How (A) Todoroki, (A) Bakugo, and (A) Hawks would react to finding the (O) Reader held hostage:

Summary: Your Alpha walks in on you being tied to a chair and he is not happy. 

Prologue: 

You had been a well-kept secret from the public. No one knew that your famous Pro Hero Alpha was courting an Omega or even in a long-standing relationship. Your Alpha was too paranoid about your safety to let any of the news outlets find out about your existence.  

You supposed it would have been beneficial for the public to know now that you were in this situation. Surely if the villains knew they would come across an Omega, resting in their nest, they wouldn't have tried to rob the Pro Hero’s house. 

You put up quite the fight once you smelled unfamiliar Alphas near your nest. One hard knock to your head had you subdued. You didn’t dwell over your quick loss considering one Alpha was nursing his swollen balls. 

You got in one good kick before the painful hit fell on your head. 

Now here you sat, tied to a chair, while the robbers argued with each other and what they should do now.

Shoto: 

🧊🔥-“I told you we should have checked the place out before we robbed it! I would have never tried to rob the place if I had known a freaking Omega was here!” The brunette Alpha growled, glaring at his blond friend. 

🧊🔥-“What’s the big deal? So what if the little icy-hot freak has a girlfriend? We will be out of here before he even comes home.” The blond scoffs, shoving expensive silverware and china into his black bag. 

🧊🔥-“You should know how Alpha’s get around their Omegas! He is gonna hunt us down! I don’t want a Pro Hero on my ass.” The brunette seethed, glaring at the goose egg on your head. “Especially since you decided to hit the poor thing! We will be lucky if he doesn’t skin us alive!”

🧊🔥-“The bitch hit me in the balls! Of course, I thumped her one on the head, serves the Omega slut right!” The blonde huffed, sick of hearing his partner complain instead of ransacking the place. 

🧊🔥-“Mmh.” You mumbled, your eyes blinking open to a fuzzy view. 

🧊🔥-“Fucking shit! They’re waking up! I’m not dealing with a weepy Omega.” The brunette cursed, going into Shoto’s office to avoid the whole situation altogether. 

🧊🔥-“Well, if it isn’t Miss nut-cracker.” The blond chuckled darkly, walking over to your tied up frame.

🧊🔥-You didn’t back down and just glared at the dumb fool. 

🧊🔥-“Aren’t too smart, are you? What type of shitty criminal robs a Pro Hero? Dumb ones, that’s what.” You spit, narrowing your blurry eyes at him. 

🧊🔥-No doubt you would need to go to the doctor after this whole ordeal. Not like you would have a choice. You were sure even if they didn’t lay a hand on you that Shoto would have insisted on one. 

🧊🔥-“You dumb little bitch!” The blond lifted his ring covered hand to hit you again. You tried not to flinch as it came down to strike you. 

🧊🔥-The brunette stood in the office doorway, his bag filled with expensive clocks and other expensive desk items. 

🧊🔥-“I got everything in the office. Did you...” The brunette didn’t get to finish his sentence. 

🧊🔥-The front door was busted open. Shoto had smelled two Alphas on the other side of the door and he was not pleased. He was even less pleased when the door slammed open to reveal his battered Omega tied to a chair. 

🧊🔥-His mismatched eyes turned dark. The temperature in the room both dropped and elevated at the same time. His tired body was instantly filled with murderous intent. 

🧊🔥-A loud growl shook the room. 

🧊🔥-How DARE they lay a hand on their Omega! His vision tinted red and his fangs dropped. 

🧊🔥-“This will only take a minute, Y/N. I’ll take out this trash.” He calmly said, his tone was so cold you felt yourself shiver even knowing his silent rage wasn’t directed at you.

🧊🔥-“Yes, Alpha.” You responded, making sure voice quivered a little. You may have been glaring right back at the intruders before he came but you wanted them to suffer so you played the scared Omega role. 

🧊🔥-They lost your sympathy as soon as they pulled you from your nest. 

🧊🔥-The robbers, who were frozen in fear by the intimidating Alpha’s entrance, shuffled into action. 

🧊🔥-The brunette was quick to give his partner up. “He hit her, not me!” He said, before running down the hall, looking for a way to escape. 

🧊🔥-“You fucking asshole!” The blonde shouted, trying to run out of the room as well. 

🧊🔥-He didn’t get far, ice trapped his feet and his lower body soon followed. Shoto made sure to form it in a way that sharp icicles tore at his skin if he so much as moved half an inch. 

🧊🔥-He wanted to shoot an icicle into his leg for good measure but he didn’t feel like cleaning up blood off his floor. He wished to burn the skin off his bone but you had forbidden him from using fire in the house. 

🧊🔥-He had accidentally caught one of your favorite blankets on fire and was banned for life. 

🧊🔥-“We didn’t know she was here! If we had known we wouldn’t have come!” The blond groveled, panicked at the feral look in Shoto’s eyes. 

🧊🔥-“You could have left after you saw my Omega was here, but you stayed and decided to hit her too. You should be lucky I didn’t just kill you on the spot.” He growled, cutting the blond’s cheek just a bit with an ice shard. 

🧊🔥-The blond just whimpered and passed out. Shoto was quick to hunt down the other and give him the same treatment. He had made it out of the house so he was pleased to release his burning anger out on him. 

🧊🔥-Once they were out of the way, Shoto ran to your side and burning away the binds holding you down. 

🧊🔥-“Are you okay, my Dove?” His voice was soft, his cold hand going up to your head and trying to soothe the aching bump. 

🧊🔥-“Yes, I’m just a little dizzy. Everything’s a little fuzzy right now.” You leaned into his gentle touch. 

🧊🔥-“I’ll call someone to deal with those two. Let’s get you to the hospital, my Dove.” He hurriedly lifted you and carried you to his car. He treated you like glass when he sat you down in the passenger seat. 

🧊🔥-You leaned your head against the cold window as he dashed around to the driver’s side. Your head hurt too much to look out the window so you kept your eyes closed. 

🧊🔥-Your Alpha made sure you didn’t accidentally slip asleep. 

🧊🔥-You let out a small whine when a thought crossed your mind. 

🧊🔥-“Alpha my nest is gonna smell like them.” You sniffed, opening your teary eyes to look at him. 

🧊🔥-Shoto’s hands went white on the wheel, his face contorted into a snarl. He couldn’t wait to visit them again at the station. He had friends there that wouldn’t hesitate to turn a blind eye. 

🧊🔥-His anger instantly simmered when his eyes met your glassy ones. 

🧊🔥-“Don’t worry, Little Dove. I’ll buy you more. We can even go shopping at that blanket store you like so much.” He assured, taking one hand off the wheel and clasping it in yours. 

🧊🔥-Your eyes lit up. “Really! It’s kinda expensive though, I don’t need new ones. I am sure we can find some nice second-hand ones.” You squeezed his hand, bring it up to your lips to place a kiss on it. 

🧊🔥-Your exhausted brain choosing to ignore the specks of blood on his hand. 

🧊🔥-“My Dove, what have I said about me spending money on you?” He gently reprimanded, his eyes still soft. 

🧊🔥-“Accept it and say thank you.” You repeated without delay. 

🧊🔥-“Exactly, I won’t hear any more about it.” He ended the discussion, his eyes focusing back on the road while his hand remained in your grasp. 

🧊🔥-If your head wasn’t killing you, you would have been bouncing in your seat. “I can’t wait! They are coming out with some pretty fall blankets soon! Oooh! We have to get some cute Halloween ones too!” 

🧊🔥-“Anything you want.”

Bakugo:

💥-“Why did you have to hit them!? Ground Zero is gonna come after us now!” The brunette cried, desperately holding ice to your head in hopes that the bump on it would go away. 

💥-“Shut up! Get back to robbing the damn place instead of taking care of the freaking Omega.” The blond hissed, throwing a plate at the panicked Alpha. 

💥-You sat back in the chair not knowing how to process the situation. You knew dating a Pro Hero was dangerous but you thought villains would be your main concern, not petty burglars. 

💥-“If you leave now and don’t take anything, I’ll tell him I tripped and fell.” You wouldn’t, but they didn’t know that. 

💥-“See! Let’s just leave. We can go rob some other place.” The brunette pleaded, already trying to untie you. 

💥-The Omega in you wanted to feel bad for the whining Alpha but then you remembered he messed up your nest when he dragged you out of it. You Omega was fuming. 

💥-I just got the nest just right! She huffed, pacing around in your head.  

💥-She didn’t seem threatened by the Alphas in the room. She knew her Alpha was coming home any minute and he would take care of them. 

💥-You, on the other hand, was slightly panicking now that the situation sunk in. Katsuki was gonna rip them to shreds. You Omega was already smugly licking her paws at the image, while you shuddered at the thought. 

💥-“You should go. I don’t want to be mopping up your blood all night.” You urged, looking anxiously at the door. 

💥-“See! We need to go!” The brunette cried, trying to tug his friend towards the door. 

💥-“Shut up! We can leave once we get everything valuable.” The blonde growled, shoving off his partner. 

💥-The jiggle of keys at the door made everyone in the room stop and hold their breath. The doorknob turned and the door was pushed open. You looked at the chair you were tied to, the robbers, and back at the door. 

💥-There was no way to play off the situational. I don’t want to be mopping up blood. You whined, praying your Alpha wasn’t going to go too berserk.  

💥-“Hey, Spit-fire! I got us, your favorite curry you were wanting. I made sure to get it extra spicy.” He walked in carrying a bag of takeout. 

💥-He paused in the doorway once he got a whiff of unfamiliar Alphas in the house. His ruby eyes viewed the scene before him. He growled at the sight of the two Alphas. 

💥-From your point of view, his eyes didn’t look red anymore with how big his pupils dilated at the presence of Alphas near his Omega. His hand instantly dropped the food to the floor. 

💥-The sound of the bag hitting the floor heightened the tension. 

💥-His fangs instantly dropped when his nose picked up a faint coppery smell, his eyes zeroed in on the small trail of blood on your head. The growl that ripped through his chest shook the room. 

💥-“Alpha, please, no blood in the house.” You pleaded, shifting against the ties holding you in place. 

💥-“No promises, Omega.” His voice was so dark that you didn’t even recognize it. 

💥-“The brunette didn’t hit me. He even tried to ice it. Go easy on him.” You said, knowing his control was waning. 

💥-The veins on his neck looked ready to pop, his arms straining to hold themselves still and not plummet the Alphas standing before him. He eyed the patio door that was pushed open, most likely where they entered in from. 

💥-That would solve the blood problem. 

💥-He grinned viciously, “How about we take this outside?”

💥-He rushed the two Alphas, grabbing them by the backs of their necks and throwing them out of the house and over the balcony. He laughed darkly as he followed them, jumping from the balcony. 

💥-You wiggled free from your restraints and made your way to the front door, you picked up the takeout bag and brought it to the kitchen. 

💥-“Suki will be hungry after beating those two up.” You hummed, making him a plate and then making yourself one. 

***

💥-“Is the water too hot?” His voice was raspy from all the yelling he did earlier. 

💥-You sat with your back leaning against his chest in the bathtub. The warm water and the heat of your Alpha calmed your stressed body. Being tied to a chair was as comfortable as it looked. 

💥-“It’s fine, Alpha.” You hummed, delicately washing his bruised and bloody hands. 

💥-“I’m sorry, I wasn’t here sooner Omega.” You smelled a hint of sadness in his scent. 

💥-“Don’t worry, Alpha. I knew you were coming. I wasn’t scared one bit.” You reassured, bringing his hand up and planting delicate kisses on it. 

💥-“My strong Omega,” he purred, nuzzling his nose into your hair. He flinched when he picked up the faint smell of another Alpha. He snapped up the bottle of shampoo and poured half the bottle on your head. 

💥-“Got to get this disgusting scent off you, Omega.” He growled, gently scrubbing your scalp. 

💥-“Alpha! That shampoo is fifty bucks!” You gasped, picking up the half-empty bottle. 

💥-“I’ll buy you another one.” He assured, rinsing of the soapy suds and giving your head another sniff. 

💥-“Much better.” He hummed, pulling you tighter against his chest. 

Hawks: 

🍗-“You shouldn’t be here.” You whimpered, trying to curl in on yourself, the ties preventing you from doing so. 

🍗-“Why the fuck did you have to hit them? You know I can’t handle weeping Omegas, my Alpha hates it.” The brunette growled, trying to awkwardly pat your arm. 

🍗-You winced away from his touch, another Alphas touch was too repulsive. You felt your skin crawl as his fingers grazed your arm. The thump on your head making you more nauseous than you already were. 

🍗-“So what if your Alpha is a pussy. Unlike you mine enjoys their cries.” The blond smiled at the tears dripping down your face. “The bitch deserved it anyways.”  

🍗-“Whatever.” The brunette scoffed, rolling his eyes and going back to robbing the place. 

🍗-“You guy’s really shouldn’t be here...” You tried to warm them but you were too late. The door creaked open, your heart warming and racing at the sound. You knew it would be a bloodbath once Kei realized what was going on. 

🍗-“Baby bird! I hope you are already in comfortable clothes, I’m ready to cuddle in our nest.” His soothing voice causing you to relax in the chair. 

🍗-“Alpha.” You cried, your head still throbbing. 

🍗-The silence was enough to tell you he spotted the two Alphas in the room. 

🍗-“Omega.” He growled, his eyes bleeding red, the sight of blood trailing down your head sent him into a frenzy. 

🍗-His wings puffed out, the room suddenly flooded with crimson feathers. You felt two feathers sailing your way and cutting the bonds holding you. You swiped them up in your grip and clutched them to your chest. 

🍗-The soft texture of them calming you down some. 

🍗-A feral roar sounded throughout the room. You ignored the harsh thumps coming from behind you, the sound of one of the robber’s heads getting bashed into your kitchen counter made you wince. 

🍗-You wanted to get up and get away from everything but your body was in shock and it wouldn’t let you do anything but clutch the crimson feathers to your chest. Your other hand was rested on your stomach. 

🍗-You tried to warn them. Nothing was more dangerous than someone harming a pregnant Alphas mate. You were still pretty early along so they might not have been able to smell it in your scent. 

🍗-You Alpha was sure able to, the instant he got a small whiff of it he was chirping happily against your stomach. You had a hard time getting out of his ruby wings that day. 

🍗-“You DARE harm my mate and chick!” You felt the pure rage behind his words. 

🍗-The blond was already passed out on the floor, his front teeth knocked out. The brunette was about to pass out with him, your Alpha choking him with his shirt. He made sure to use his feather to cut up his arms and face. 

🍗-His wings behind him puffing up and flapping angrily.

🍗-“Didn’t know...” The brunette slurred, his head bashed in as much as his friend’s head. 

🍗-If they wanted to hit his Omega on the head then he was all too pleased to return the favor. The brunette finally succumbed to his injures and blood loss, he went slack in Kei’s hands. 

🍗-Kei dropped him to the grown without care. 

🍗-“Pathetic.” He hissed.  

🍗-His head snapped up in your direction once he heard your tiny sniffles. He was at your side in an instant. 

🍗-“Oh, baby bird.” He cooed, lifting you from the chair and wrapping his arms and wings around you. 

🍗-“Alpha, I told them to leave.” You whined, snuggling into his chest. 

🍗-“I know, baby bird.” He soothed, breathing in your scent, checking on the baby chick in your belly. They seemed well. He was still gonna fly you to the hospital. He made his way to the balcony outside and spread his wings, without a second thought he jumped. 

***

🍗-“Don’t worry, Omega. I already ordered some new blankets. They should be here by tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind the guest bedroom for now.” He hummed, he was curled around your balled up form. 

🍗-You didn’t even build the nest surrounding you, Kei delicately dropped you down on the bed and instantly began building the nest. He would angrily chirp if you so much as lifted a finger.   

🍗-Everything was fine with you and the pup, or chick as Kei liked to call them. As soon as you arrived home Kei refused to leave your side or let you out of his sight. 

🍗-You were not to roll over on your side without his permission. 

🍗-“Thank you, Alpha.” You thanked, nuzzling your head into one of his soft wings. 

🍗-“I also called a security company, they will be here to set up a new system tomorrow.” He informed, nuzzling into your hair. 

🍗-One of his hands was tangled in your hair and the other was snugly cupping your stomach. 

🍗-“No more Alphas in the house.” You sniffled, shaking your head. 

🍗-“Of course, baby bird. I told them, beta’s only.” He reassured, kissing your head. 

🍗-“I love you, Alpha.” You whispered, almost lulled to sleep. 

🍗-“I love you, too baby bird.”  

First HC I have done in a while, also the first time writing for Hawks! What did you think of him? I hope you enjoyed it! Please be sure to leave a comment and like! I really enjoy hearing your reactions. 💕

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Puppy.

Pairing: Yandere!Oikawa/Reader/Yandere!Iwaizumi.

Word Count: 2.5k.

Synopsis: It’s a pet’s job to make their owner happy, or their owners, in your case. You don’t mind. If anything, you take pride in how often you make Oikawa and Iwaizumi smile, how often they laugh, how happy they seem to be with you. You only wish they’d try to return the favor, from time to time.

TW: Hybrid!Reader, Implied Non-Con, Implied Dub-Con, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, Possessive Mindsets, Threats of Abandonment, Mentions of Animal Abuse, and Questionable Implications. 

Sometimes, you could still remember how happy you’d been when Oikawa and Iwaizumi first took you home.

It helped that the shelter was such a bleak place to be, after a few weeks. It wasn’t unbearable – the volunteers were nice, you were fed twice a day, and there were plenty of other animals to play with, but the older hybrids were always so stand-offish and everything seemed just a little duller than it should’ve, the ill-fitting clothes a little too grey and the walls a little too plain, a shade of white that seemed to make your eyes burn if you lingered on it for more than a minute. You couldn’t complain, but they’d been a splash of color, in comparison, Oikawa, his smile brighter than the sun, and Iwaizumi, scowling and glowering and trying to pretend he didn’t know the strange man trying to fit his hand through the thin bars of your kennel. They’d been new. They’d been there for you, and you should get to feel happy about that.

You’d just been so excited, that first day. You’d tripped over your words when Oikawa asked for your name, laughed a little too loudly at every passing comment and half-hearted joke, and when Iwaizumi finally relented to ‘looking at’ the paperwork, your tail had wagged so violently, you’re sure animals on the other side of the shelter were able to hear it beating against the concrete. You’d wanted to go home with Oikawa, who pet you so gently and spoke to you so softly, and you didn’t mind Iwaizumi, even if he was a little more reserved than his partner. You’d wanted to find a home, one you wouldn’t have to leave. You’d been so, so happy.

You were still happy, in a certain way. Not as happy as you had been, but happier than you ever were in the shelter. Happier than you would’ve been. That was what Oikawa said, at least.

You were happier with than you could ever be, with anyone else.

Some days, you tried to believe it, too. Sleeping on his bed helped, his mattress softer than the thin mat you’d been given at the shelter, his sheets warmer, creating a nest of fleece and silk and wool you couldn’t help but fall into. Save for Oikawa’s shallow breaths, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the house was quiet, the road outside empty, the sun just barely beginning to rise. Despite Iwaizumi’s noticeable absence, it was cozy, homey in a way you’d craved every time another hybrid was adopted, every time you had to watch—

“I thought dogs weren’t allowed on the bed.”

The bedroom creaked swung open, Iwaizumi’s voice echoing through the small space. Immediately, you pushed away the memory, knowing better than to linger on things like that. You should be happy. Neither of them liked it very much, when you weren’t.

He must’ve been jogging, a fresh towel slung over his neck and his forehead still dripping with sweat, but Iwaizumi’s tone was jovial, energetic, that kind of lax, serene playfulness Iwaizumi seemed to exude, whenever he wasn’t forcing himself to stay on-edge. You squirmed, attempting to sit up and greet him properly, but the arm snaked around your midriff only held you tighter, pulling you in Oikawa as he groaned, his eyes only flickering open for a second before promptly clenching shut again. “You’re making my puppy nervous,” He mumbled, still obviously groggy. “Go away. You gave up your spot ‘nd you don’t get it back.”

There was plenty of room, really. You usually slept between the two, letting Oikawa cling to something warn while Iwaizumi scratched idly at the base of your ears, but still, you didn’t hesitate to wriggle out of Oikawa’s hold when Iwaizumi whistled, the simplest out of his many commands. You didn’t waste time, clambering to the edge of the bed, Iwaizumi watching on with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, only growing more apparent as you came to kneel in front of him. Despite your stiffness and your downcast gaze, your tail swept over the sheets lazily, a quiet show of your muted fondness that never seemed to go overlooked. He only laughed, a large hand coming up to ruffle your hair before he caught you by the chin, tilting your head back just far enough to press his lips against your forehead. It was a familiar display of affection. It was a display you really, really liked, if you were being honest. The volunteers were always blunt, at the shelter, too afraid of getting attached to be so liberal with their encouragement. Iwaizumi didn’t have to worry about that, though, and neither did Oikawa. You were theirs. As far as they were concerned, you were going to stay theirs, too.

The thought should’ve comforted you than it did, but you tried not to worry about that.

“Couldn’t get you to wake up, this morning.” He wasn’t whispering, but his voice was low enough to make the conversation feel private. Not conspiratorial, but personal in an intimate way, just bordering on uncomfortable. “Hybrids are supposed to be lively, aren’t they? Are you getting lazy on me?”

“’m not a dog,” You mumbled, the dismissal half-hearted. Iwaizumi was the stern one, the mean one. He knew how to take care of you, he knew what you needed and how you’d act, but he chose to get the details wrong, anyway. “Tooru lets me sleep in, and you run too fast. ‘s not fun.”

There was a pause, and he dropped his smirk. Instantly, you realized your mistake.

You moved to correct yourself, but a sudden pressure stopped you, two hands landing on your shoulders and a chest coming to press against your back, Oikawa’s taller form quickly eclipsing your own. He had to lean down just to nuzzle against the side of your neck, a throaty whine quickly filling the silence. “Puppy’s learning, Hajime. That’s a hard thing to do with such a shitty teacher.” You flinched back, your pointed ears dropping to your scalp, but Iwaizumi let the insult slide with a stifled huff. That was what Oikawa seemed to expect, remaining just as casual as he went on. “C’mon, you remember what you have to call us, don’t you?”

If it hadn’t been for Iwaizumi’s hand, you might’ve looked away. You wanted to, even if you really weren’t sure why, just yet. “Of course, master.”

This time, Iwaizumi sighed, the sound contented, pleased, proud in a way that made you proud, too. He’d never told you what it meant, and you’d never thought to ask, but Iwaizumi liked it. He was nicer when you used it, his touch just a little softer as he cupped your cheek, Oikawa’s laugh just a little louder, his arms falling back to your waist while his chin came to rest on your shoulder, his attention now refocused on his partner. “And you call me a pervert, Iwa-chan. At least I’ve never resorted to something so cliché.”

More words you didn’t know, more jokes you didn’t think were funny, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind. You concentrated on staying still, instead, on not disturbing the happy little world Oikawa and Iwaizumi had made for themselves and been kind enough to bring you into, too. They rarely fought, but you still liked it when they got along, when Iwaizumi pushed Oikawa’s hair out of his face, when Oikawa giggled and melted into his palm. You were happy, when they did. You were the happiest when their attention was on each other, rather than you.

They kissed each other differently than they kissed you. Lips slotted against lips, eyes fluttering shut, a breathy ‘shut up’ and a mumbled ‘make me’ in response – soft, tender little interactions that you tried not to watch, from your spot on Oikawa’s lap. You tried not to, but you didn’t have much time to distract yourself, not before Oikawa’s fingers brushed against the inside of your thigh, not before you were brought back to stubborn reality by a startling, throaty noise, something been a cry and a groan. Something that spurred Iwaizumi forward, despite how calm he’d been earlier. Something that made him just a little less inclined to being gentle, and a little more prone to getting… ‘carried away’, as Oikawa liked to say.

You almost made a run for it. You could apologize later, but Oikawa was quick to stop you, nipping at the edge of your jaw as his grip tightened, calloused fingertips soon digging into the meat of your thigh. “Puppy wants to play, too.” It was a drawl, this time, dragged out and melodic, a lethargic kind of inflection that made your heart beat just a little faster, that made you curl into Oikawa the moment Iwaizumi’s eyes shifted towards you. “You’re not gonna leave (Y/n) out, right, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi didn’t kiss you like he kissed Oikawa. He gave Oikawa a chance to reciprocate, he pulled away when Oikawa couldn’t breathe, but he wasn’t as considerate with you. He probably just didn’t know he had to be. You were a hybrid, you were supposed to be tough, but you didn’t feel tough as his lips crashed into yours, as he caught you by the collar of your shirt, as he pulled you closer and closer and closer until you were forced to shove at his shoulders, to thrash against Oikawa, to misbehave. You didn’t like misbehaving. You really, really didn’t like being bad, but…

You liked the way Iwaizumi touched you even less.

Oikawa wasn’t any better. Even after Iwaizumi relented, his grin suddenly replaced by a small, stern scowl, Oikawa kept going, barely bothering to glace up while his mouth trailed along your jugular, the crook of your neck, the dip of your shoulder, leaving sore, tender bruises in his wake. Even now, they hurt, and they’d hurt more in the morning, but Oikawa didn’t seem deterred by the way you whimpered, how you leaned away from his touch. You weren’t sure why you thought he would be. It wasn’t like he’d ever tried to stop himself, before.

“Someone’s fussy,” Iwaizumi called, speaking past you. Oikawa only hummed in response, letting Iwaizumi go on uninterrupted. “Don’t tell me you have a favorite. It’d be a shame if we needed to teach you that lesson again.”

“No, it’s just—” Denying it came instinctually, but so did faltering, cutting yourself short when you realized he wouldn’t like what you had to say. It felt made your skin crawl, when he touched you like this, when your owners looked at you like that. It didn’t feel bad, not at first, and you weren’t sure if it was wrong, but it felt like something you weren’t supposed to do, even if you couldn’t put your finger on why. “It’s not that,” You tried, and you weren’t lying. You’d be shying away from Oikawa, too, if you could. “I just don’t… It hurts when you—”

“When did you get so spoiled, cutie?” If Oikawa was still half-asleep, you couldn’t tell. He sounded lucid, perfectly awake and aware, perfectly able to make something in your stomach twist, a tight knot forming in the back of your throat. Being spoiled was a bad thing. You didn’t want to be bad. “It makes us so happy when you play along. I thought you wanted to make us happy, but…” When he trailed off, it was deliberate, a short silence punctuated by a click of his tongue. “I could’ve been wrong. Maybe our next puppy will be a little more grateful.”

They warned you about this, at the shelter. Bad owners, the volunteers said, owners who aren’t caretakers, owners who aren’t satisfied with the kind of companionship hybrids are meant to provide. They didn’t treat their pets with care, and in a way, neither did Iwaizumi and Oikawa. You never felt like they cared when you were pinned to the bed, when your head felt so full and your body felt so hot and all you could do was hope it’d end, eventually. They were bad owners, even if they weren’t bad most of the time.

But, if you said that, if you tried to run away, if you cried and growled and lashed out like you used to, like you had when Iwaizumi and Oikawa first brought you home, you’d be a bad pet. You’d be the bad one, and you knew what happened to bad hybrids. There’d been plenty of them at the shelter – dogs who couldn’t bite and cats without their claws, bad hybrids, mutilated hybrids. You didn’t want to be bad.

You really, really didn’t want to be bad.

It would hurt. You already knew it would, and there wouldn’t be a minute of it you genuinely enjoyed, but that didn’t really matter. You threw yourself towards Iwaizumi regardless, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his chest, wasting the distance you’d worked so hard to create. Iwaizumi was caught off guard, but he managed to recover quickly, a breath of a chuckle slipping past his lips, the sound barely muffled by your proximity.

“I’m sorry!” It was a desperate, fractured cry, but neither seemed to mind, Oikawa cooing as he rubbed circles into your hips and Iwaizumi just shaking his head, more a sign of disregard than disapproval. It didn’t matter. You’d already disappointed him. You were supposed to make him happy, and you hadn’t, you’d failed to. It was only fair that he got to disappoint you a little, too. “I didn’t mean it, please, I don’t want to go back to the—”

“It’s alright,” Iwaizumi soothed, as you broke into hysterics. “Tooru just likes being mean, ‘s all. You’re not going anywhere, even if you do still need some training.”

“Obviously. Iwa-chan’s too much of a softie for that.” Iwaizumi’s sympathy was minimal, manufactured, but Oikawa’s was practically nonexistent, his faux concern fading into a timbre of pleasant, numbing satisfaction. It was nice, how awful he could be at holding a grudge, but for whatever reason, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be very thankful. “But, I can’t stay mad at our puppy, ‘specially when you’re so timid. We just can’t trust anyone else to take care of you, not when you’re so easy to scare.”

You could’ve said something. You didn’t think you were timid, but you didn’t correct him, not as he pawed at your waist, not as Iwaizumi’s fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, not as your voice hitched in your throat and you lost your chance entirely. It was alright, though. This was for the best. This was good.

They’d taken such good care of you, at first. They’d made you so happy. They still made you happy, sometimes, and if you tried hard enough, you could make them happy, too.

Hopefully, if you succeeded, they’d stop trying to make you so miserable.

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 52

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​ Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?

Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter, smut

"We fucked up."

"No, we didn't."

"We had Peter. Now we don't have Peter."

Loki's eyes were completely dark from a spell letting him see through Barbara's, but still he waved toward the completely-not-suspicious building complex in front of you. "But we found him again. That surely counts toward something, right?"

"We lost the alien pin too."

"Which we also found, if memory serves," Loki shrugged, as if the search hadn't taken the two of you the better part of an evening. Who knew searching through half of New York and visiting places it might've been dropped could be so time-consuming?

The weather was pleasant, the air growing warmer as the seasons continued to change. It was one of those days where everything felt brighter, despite how disappointing the reality might be.

"I'm still voting for arson," Loki said, assessing the tall fence surrounding the area. An area which crawled with people trying their hardest not to look like agents of some super-secret government facility, and failing rather miserably.

"You might not have noticed, but buildings nowadays have systems preventing fire from spreading."

"Do these systems work against magic fire too?"

"How am I supposed to know? Do I look like I spit magic fire on a whim?"

"You did last week," Loki muttered. The memory was still fresh.

"Wow, so now I'm the bad guy, and not the sneaky little bastard that ate all the cupcakes I left for-"

Barbara came back, flying on quiet, if a little filthy and decomposed, wings. Loki blinked twice, shedding the spell connecting him to the bird. As much as he didn't mind the heights, Loki had to admit he wasn't a fan of the sharp turns and rather random drops Barbara's flying pattern involved.

Loki pointed to one of the buildings further inside the complex. The red, evening sun hit the countless windows with blinding intensity. "The bird thinks the boy might be there."

You looked at the long stretch of road leading to the complex, like a carpet laid out specifically for you, but the crowds of agents working in the area leading to it made you cringe.

"I still vote arson."

"Why don't we just walk in, though? I mean, it was SHIELD themselves that contacted us, right? It should be okay to just… pay them a visit without sneaking around like… well, like villains. No offense."

Loki frowned. He didn't look convinced. "I like sneaking around, though. It keeps me away from trouble."

"If that’s true, how did you get banned from the Moon twice?"

"Touché. Lead the way then, love."

The way took you down the asphalt road, busy with cars rushing both ways. Despite their past issues, Loki couldn't help feeling a little bad for the agents. For all the grandeur and importance they always described their life to hold, Loki's imagination kept on showing him pictures of ants in their little nests, crawling in their endless, pointless patterns.

The ants seemed to fall into a state of shock rather abruptly after laying their eyes on the two visitors to their nest. Some of them just stood there, looking after the figures marching right to the gates, while others ran in a seemingly random direction.

"That worked out better than I thought," Loki admitted when all the space around you cleared.

Barbara perched on top of the gates, screaming on top of her rotten lungs. The security guards looked at one another and then at the approaching god. Their hands went to their guns. Loki took that as a compliment.

"I know this might surprise you," Loki said, "but we are here to talk. Fetch us your Agent Cauldron, and be quick about it."

"Coulson," you whispered.

"Whatever."

*

"No matter how many times you ask me, the answer will stay the same - I don't know," Peter groaned.

His back hurt from sitting on the same, incredibly uncomfortable metal chair for hours, and the lights of the small and a little outdated office were starting to make his head throb with an upcoming headache. Or maybe the reason behind it were the endless questions to which he wished he know the answer.

Agent Coulson looked at the photos on the desk between him and the boy. These were nice pictures. If he were more sentimental, he might've put them on a fridge or maybe to the clipboard on the wall to his left. They were definitely worth taking a look at least once a day - it wasn't often one had a chance to look at a god and an ex-assassin, completely drunk, being led by a teenage boy on a spider-thread.

Peter glanced down at them too, and scowled.

"Yeah, well, we've met and hung out together, but I don't know where they are now. Sir, if I knew, do you really think I'd willingly stay behind?"

The agent didn't answer. He moved very little, in fact. Peter was unsure whether it was a part of some special, super-secret interrogation technique, but it was working. To make things even worse, the metal chair he had been given was making sitting still a nightmare. 

"That's a fair point, Peter," Coulson nodded, "but do you think I would be pressing you so much if two of the most dangerous people on this planet weren't currently on the run with an alien artifact of unknown origin that might've been recently used to damage our Moon?"

That was a fair point too, Peter had to admit. He might've even grown a little worried after hearing such news, if only it all didn't sound so exciting.

"So you DO know what happened to it, right?" the boy leaned forward, with eyes shining with excitement. 

Agent Coulson sighed.

It was a small,  almost invisible display of all the emotions boiling inside of him that he'd never show. He knew better, and had far too many years of experience to allow that. Still, the situation was beginning to wear on him, especially if he spared a thought or two to consider what the two people that should absolutely never go off radar, could be up to at this very moment. 

Last time Loki visited Earth, he led an alien invasion. Last time Coulson met you before you hesitantly joined forces with the Avengers, you'd already put two bullets in Tony Stark and were on the way to making it three.

Coulson allowed himself a moment to thank his hair for already thinning out or he'd be losing it in a handfuls. 

And the worst part was, he actually believed the boy.

He had clearly helped with sneaking you through half the city and into his apartment, but there was no evidence of him helping you out too. Wherever Loki and you were, Coulson was sure he'd hear about it soon enough. He might even let the boy go, and monitor him long enough to see if you'd show up. 

The decision wasn't an easy one, but the agent was left with very limited choices. After all, how likely was it that the two of you would just show up?

The phone vibrated on the desk in front of agent Coulson. He picked it up.

He blinked. And simply said, "Yes."

Peter did not like the absent look on the agent's face. He'd seen far too many movies not to recognize the moment the power shifted in the room. Just in time for something bad to happen. It wouldn't be a problem if it stayed on the screen - Ned and him would freeze with the popcorn halfway to their mouths in anticipation of what was to come. But here, in reality, far from the safe spot on a couch, Peter was painfully aware of how much he didn't want to know what was about to happen next.

Unfortunately, whatever powers weaved through the lives of people, deciding their fate and luck, rarely listened to young boys in their judgement. In fact, they listened to old agents even less, but that was something Peter was unlikely to ever find out.

Peter twisted on the chair biting into his backside, and looked back to the thick, metal door. He hadn't realized it when he had been brought inside, but the door looked like it could take a few shots from a gun and remain unscathed. 

Peter was not sure what to do with that information.

The door in question decided to finally open and reveal the reason for the sudden tension. It didn't even creak, so the god walked in in complete silence. You followed him, not as quiet, but just as unexpected.

Your face lit up when you noticed the boy. "There you are!" 

Peter looked at the agent. The agent looked at Peter.

"I know you're probably not going to believe me, sir, but I swear I had nothing to do with this."

The agent had no doubt that the boy was the least likely person to ever manipulate the god of trickery and lies, or the almost-ex-assasin into anything, but he didn't say a word. He only raised an eyebrow and asked, "To what do we owe the pleasure?", as if there was anything pleasant to be found in the room. But lying was not solely a domain of gods, as all the agents in the world would probably agree. 

And Coulson was a very good agent.

"We recently lost a boy, but it looks like he's just been found. Thank you for taking care of him."

"It was a pleasure," the agent smiled. "Although I can't help but worry if you have lost the pin too?"

"We wouldn't dare," Loki lied smoothly with an even more charming smile.

The god of trickery waved his hand and produced a pin seemingly out of thin air. Whether it was only a clever trick or an actual spell was something agent Coulson would never know, but for once he didn't mind. The pin felt heavy and looked just as the files described, but whether it was the real thing would only be revealed once a detailed analysis was completed. 

Still, it somehow looked like the deal was fulfilled. Coulson would be lying if he said he'd placed a bet on that outcome.

Peter sprung out of the chair the moment you waved at him to go. The agents and armed officers waiting behind Loki and you on the corridor shifted with unease, their fingers laying on triggers. A small crowd eyed every move made in Coulson's office, which was to be expected - it was not every day a facility such as this one was visited by a god.

Especially one with a rather problematic history of attempted world domination.

"If we may, we'll take our leave now." Loki bowed stiffly.

"And what about the 'favor' you insisted on as payment?"

Something cold and ancient flashed in the god's eyes. "All in due time."

[bluebellwriting]

Love Me Tender Part 6

Hey folks! I know it’s been a minute, I’ve been super busy with work and school, but I’m by no means done with this piece and you know I had to post something for Valentine’s Day (to make up for the fact that single and lonely 😆😭)

Despite popular belief, Hell does in fact freeze over. It’s Hell, after all, and in the world of pain and torture, everything is fair game. And it’s February, historically one of the coldest months for you back when you were living and certainly the most miserable in Hell too. The roads are slick with sheets of ice, you can’t walk a block without a three-foot icicle nearly spearing itself through you, and everyone’s car is perpetually trapped in a snowbank thanks to Lucifer’s “generous snow plow program.” Each winter day reminds you of the worst snow cyclones from when you were growing up in Brooklyn, cold yes, but in a way it’s all very sentimental. They remind you of the winter nights cuddled up with your siblings, hot chocolate in hand, listening to the winds blustering against your windows. It’s all rather lovely, in a strange way.

Your boyfriend of four months does not seem to agree, if the way he’s gripping you and nuzzling into your neck is anything to go by. You’ve been trying to extricate yourself from your practically shared bed for the last ten minutes, but each attempt only causes Alastor to pull you closer. He’s basically on top of you now, those boney forearms are stronger than you’d think.

“Sweetheart,” you whisper. “It’s time to get up.”

Alastor groans but otherwise your voice falls on deaf ears.

“Come on, we have to make breakfast and then--”

“But darling, it’s freezing,” he sighs. “And why would I go anywhere when I have my own personal heater right here.”

It’s really hard to stay mad at him, especially when he places sweet little kisses from your cheek to your shoulder and back again.

“Well your personal heater has some errands to run and needs to get her day started.”

“Ugh,” Alastor whines and inch by inch, begins to roll off of you. “How can you even stand to be out in that unbearable cold? Don’t you want to stay right here with me, your loving and adoring boyfriend?”

“You know I would,” you boop his nose. “But then I wouldn’t be able to get your present.” 

His ears perk up immediately.

“Present?” He coos. “A present for lil’ ol’ me? Dearest, you shouldn’t have.”

“Yes, but I can’t pick it up until I get out of this bed.”

“Oh fine. I suppose I have some things to do for tonight as well,” he teases and kisses you on the nose before finally allowing you to shift out of bed.

“Although before you leave me,” he whines. “I have a little something to kick off the festivities.”

With a snap of his fingers, a red garment manifests in your arms.

“Oh, Alastor.” You run your hands over the thick velvet of the dress. “It’s lovely.”

“This is just the beginning, love. Now go try it on,” he shoos you off to the bathroom, then immediately curls back up into the comforter to protect himself from the draft leaking in from your window. 

The dress is beautiful and warm. As soon as you change into it and assess yourself in the bathroom mirror it hits you that this has to be a customized dress. It fits you far too perfectly and the fabric is so soft, it’s like a blanket heating you up and snuggling you in. It’s either custom or enchanted with Alastor’s magic. Or maybe both, you wouldn’t put it past him to make this the perfect dress.

The last four months together have been a dream. A blissful and rapturous dream that you never want to wake up from. If you thought he was sweet before you began dating, then this is an entirely new level. You two are practically glued to the hip, and he finds a way to make every possible moment so enthralling and exciting that it doesn’t even matter. 

Everything about him is just enthralling, and the best part is that he can’t seem to get enough of you either. It makes your face warm and your mouth split into a grin just thinking about it.

You poke your head out of the bathroom door and giggle at the sight of Alastor in his own personal blanket cocoon. 

“Comfortable?” You ask.

“I’d be more comfortable if you were here with me.”

“While that sounds tempting, I wouldn’t want to ruin my fabulous new dress.”

He shoots up, blanket still around his shoulders, eyes wide and alert and trained on the way the bodice clings to your curves. It’s even more perfect than he could have expected.

“Do you like it?” He scoots to the edge of the bed and holds his arms out for you to step into.

“I love it.” You smile and step between his legs to fall into his embrace. “It’s perfect. Thank you, my love.”

“That’s just the beginning, dear,” he cheers.

“Alastor, you didn’t--”

“Nonsense! It’s our first Valentine’s together and it must be the best of all time!” Ever one for theatrics, with a flourish of his arm the room is filled with red roses.

“Oh my goodness,” you giggle and cup his face in your hands. “You darling man.”

Alastor melts into your hands, letting the softness of your palms warm his cheeks.

“Only for you, love.” He leans forward and nuzzles your nose. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”

If you weren’t worried about getting to the store and back in time, you would have stayed here, exactly like this, for hours more. 

“Let’s begin the day, shall we, love?” You whisper.

“But it’s cold!” He whines. “And you’re so warm!”

“Ugh, you’re such a southern boy,” you tease and pull away from him, if only to draw him out of his blanket nest and into the world. 

“You love this southern boy,” he laughs and finally rises. With a quick snap, he’s dressed in a redder-than-average suit with one of the red roses on your floor now pinned to his lapel.

He hands you your coat, gloves, hat, scarf, and tries to force another sweater upon you but you stop him before you’re a complete bundle of wool and layers.

---

Charlie must have gotten up early because the entire lobby is littered with hearts and confetti. Chocolates are on every available surface and your fearless leader is currently snuggling with Vaggie in matching heart sweaters. You watch Angel hand Husk a box of chocolates wrapped in a lovely bow. Hesitantly, Husk opens the box and spits out whatever he was drinking all over your brother before stomping away with a red face.

“What did you do to that poor man?” You call over.

“Just gave him an innocent token of my affections,” Angel chimes and shows you the contents of the box: three rows of chocolates with letters printed on each piece, spelling out “Best Dick Ever.”

“Angel, that is so vulgar,” you exclaim.

“It’s the day of love, sis.” Angel pops one of the pieces into his mouth.

“That is not love, my fellow,” Alastor chastises.

 “Aww, that’s cute coming from you, strawberry pimp.”

“I’ll have you know that I am plenty romantic,” Alastor says incredulously. “Aren’t I, (Y/N)?”

“You are, love. The most romantic,” you coo. “Now I have to get going. Please be nice, boys.”

“And you,” Alastor leans down to pull your scarf tighter around you, “promise me that you will be careful. You’re sure I can’t come with you?”

“I’m sure, love. I’ll be fine. Angel,” you turn to him. “Be nice.”

“’K, mom,” he calls back to you, waving as you begin your journey into the chilly winds.

“So,” Angel drawls, sidling up to Alastor. “What are you doing for my sister on this ever most sacred day of love and affection?”

“Something special and perfect and I will not have you distracting me,” Alastor sighs and snaps his fingers, transporting himself to his cottage deep in the woods of the Pentagram. Because only a crazy person would want to walk out in that cold. Good thing Alastor loves your kind of crazy.

---

It’s been a while since Alastor has been to his home, his actual home, one that is reminiscent of the large, Queen Anne-style homes of New Orleans. Dust is collecting on the counters and window sills, but that’s nothing that some quick magic can’t fix. The real task at hand is the redecorating and the meal he has to prepare for tonight to be as perfect as can be. This is certainly not the first time that you’ve been to his home but he’s hoping that it will be the last time that he calls it “his home.”

If he had it his way, tonight would be the night that Alastor asked you to marry him, to spend the rest of eternity -- or as long as you’d have him at least -- together in Hell as husband and wife, as partners in crime until the very fabric of the universe began to fray at the seams. He’s known for so long, long before you began your courtship, that he wanted to marry you and it took everything within him not to propose to you on your first date. But he had to be patient, suave, a perfect gentleman, because the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off with a hasty courtship and engagement. The last man who had attempted that with you, well, Alastor was still in the process of hunting him down so he could offer you his head on a spit. That was supposed to be the second part of your Valentine’s gift but alas, the wretched soul was more slippery than he had anticipated.

Hopefully you’d be impressed enough by the way he had decorated the house with some of your favorite colors and furniture from the 1940s, things to make it look more like a home you could share and grow into. 

---

The beauty about Hell in the wintertime is that there are so few people out on the streets to bother you. The sidewalks and roads are eerily quiet, the snow swallowing up distant sounds so the only ones left is the crunch of your boots. Your trip to Rosie’s had been quick, as the poor woman was overrun with sinners trying to buy up last-minute Valentine’s gifts. As she said to you in passing while gift wrapping some tacky jewelry for a panicked demoness, “good for business, bad for relationships.”

You clutched your gift bag close to your chest, guarding it from any muggers who would even dare steal the most perfect gift for your Alastor. This was weeks in the making and you were not about to let someone ruin your first good Valentine’s Day. 

You approached the door to the hotel, already anticipating a warm fire to warm your cheeks and nose, when suddenly an arm is around you and you’re no longer in front of the hotel. No, after blinking your eyes to readjust, you’re now staring at Alastor’s home, which means the arm and body hugging you close belongs to your sweet, adoring, and sometimes startling beau.

“Alastor!” You squeal. “What have I told you about surprising me like that?”

“I’m sorry, love,” he chuckles. “But I just couldn’t have you out in the cold any longer.”

“If this wasn’t a day dedicated to love you’d be buried in snow right now,” you grumble.

“I don’t doubt that, sweetest. Now come on, the fire is waiting for you.”

When Alastor first brought you into his home it was your one-month anniversary. You were actually relieved when it wasn’t a massive mansion like most Overlords pick for themselves, and you couldn’t help but be charmed by the perfectly retro, 1920s decor.

But it’s different now. The living room has new, floral wallpaper and some of the furniture reminds you of... your old home back in New York.

“You redecorated,” you shiver as you allow the warmth of the home heat up your body. Alastor rubs his hands up and down your shoulders to warm you up as soon as your coat and layers have been shed.

“Do you like it?” He asks, a glimmer of hope igniting in his eyes.

“Oh it’s lovely,” you breathe and inhale, smelling the hot meal he’s probably slaved over. “Just surprising. What brought this on?”

“Oh, just, wanted to try something new. Are you ready for dinner?”

“I’ve been salivating since I first stepped into the door.”

Dinner is delicious, mouth wateringly incredible and cajun. But all throughout dinner you couldn’t help but notice the way Alastor’s knee bounced or the way his hand shook whenever he held his fork to his mouth. Not to mention the eery quiet between you two. You can’t seem to get more than a one-word response out of him. It makes your heart drop, and the way his eyes shift away from your gaze makes a pit form in your stomach.

“Alastor, love. Is everything alright?”

His eyes dart up to meet yours. His teeth worry his bottom lip and you can hear his fingers tapping excessively on his seat.

“Of course, darling. Everything is right as rain. Are you enjoying your food?”

“It’s amazing, Al. It’s always amazing.” You beam at him and reach across the table to hold on to his hand.

“If you don’t have any more delightful surprises for me, love, could I give you my gift now?”

“(Y/N) you didn’t--”

“I won’t even dignify that with a response.”

Reaching down beside your chair, you pull out the perfectly wrapped present and slide it across the table to him.

“It’s not much,” you explain. “But I hope you like it.”

It’s perfect. So perfect, the wrapping, the bow, the very idea that his darling has given him a gift at all, that he doesn’t even want to open it. As much as he wants to tear it open, there’s the urge to keep this moment preserved in his mind forever and ever, just in case his present to you goes south tonight.

But from the way you’re looking at him, eyes wide and hopeful, he knows he has to open it right now.

Inside is a little plastic... view finder? He’s really never seen anything like this. They look like binoculars but there’s a little white disk inside with small film negatives along the circumference.

“It’s a reel viewer,” you explain. “Put it up to your eyes and click the lever.”

So he does. And with each click he’s met with little candids of you and him, some from before your relationship began, some from after, all of them more perfect than the last and preserved forever just for him. His heart swells and warms an overwhelming amount. His joy leaks from his mouth and eyes, until it feels like the sun itself is pouring through his teeth and tears.

“Oh, (Y/N), darling...” he sniffles.

“I know it’s not much but--”

“It’s everything, dearest.” It really is. And more importantly it’s enough for him to get his act together. He feels like he can breathe again, like the fog of doubt has finally been lifted. What was he so worried about? You love him, of course, you love him.

“It’s perfect.” He rises and comes to kneel before you. “More lovely and wonderful than you will ever know. So much better than my gift to you but I hope you will love it all the same. I love it, (Y/N). I love you. So, so very much, dearest.”

“Alastor, I’m going to love anything you give me because I love you, sweetheart.” You peck his nose.

“Yes, well, that’s the thing. Because really, this feels more like just another gift from you to me.”

“Is it now?” You tease.

“It is...” he sighs. “I love you. I hope you never have to doubt that for an instant in your life. And I know this might be too soon, and you can say no for now, or forever, but I have never doubted for a minute that you are the one for me. My gift to you, love, sweetheart, darling dearest, is this.” 

He motions to the dining room.

“The... dining room?”

“No, love,” he chuckles. “The house. My house... Our house. If you’ll have it. If you’ll have me.”

You gasp and tears flood your eyes so quickly that you have to blink them away to see Alastor’s hopeful eyes properly.

“You’re asking me to move in with you?”

“I am. I’m asking you to make this house, our home.”

“Oh, Alastor.” You launch forward and wrap your arms around his neck. You press your lips to his in a bruising kiss, letting him bundle you up in his own arms and grip your waist.

You pull way for a brief moment, short enough to mumble out a fervent series of ‘yeses.’ 

“Of course,” you say between kisses to his face. “Of course, I’ll move in with you.”

[chiliiscereal]

Sample chapter of:

Hamato Elisabetta Sirani

-Tot days

When Splinter finds an abandoned child in an alley way he takes it upon himself to bring her into the Hamato family.

(Takes place during their tot days! This story will be broken up into different sections based on different parts of their lives. It’ll progressively tackle deeper subjects and deeper meanings in life. It starts out really fluffy but it’ll get there lol.)

Year thirteen

"HAMATO ELISABETTA SIRANI!" The voice yelled loudly.

Her father.

Well, not really.

He wasn’t her real father.

Sirani couldn't hear him. Or rather, she didn't want to.

She wanted to be left in the afterglow of destruction.

She wanted to feel nothing.

She wanted to be swallowed up in fire.

She wanted to finally let herself be brought under by violent waves.

She placed her hands over her ears, crumpling to the cement road.

"You gotta stop!" Another voice yelled, faintly sounding like her older brother.

Leo.

"Please! You need to stop!"

Mikey.

"You're hurting people!"

Raph.

"You're gonna destroy New York!"

Donnie.

The tears never stopped falling.

Not even for a second,

"Then let it fall."

Day one

Rain poured down from the rooftops as if it was dropped from buckets. The shadows grew more as the sun continued to lower itself in the horizon. Not a single person wanted to be out in a storm like this.

Unfortunately, someone had to be.

 "I told the boys! I told them!" Splinter grumbled to himself as he dug through the garbage cans in the alley. "I told them to let me know when we were low on supplies! But NOoooooo it's too hard!" He shook his head, whiskers twitching with irritation.

He wouldn't have to be out in the pouring rain looking for any form of nutrition if Leo had looked over their supplies like he'd been asked. He wouldn't have to be out in the cold searching for bandaids if Mikey hadn't thought skating down the stairs was a good idea!

How did that boy even get his hands on one? He barely knew how to walk! Sure, he could toddle for a couple feet but that didn't count!  

  If it were up to him he'd have all their skateboards locked up.

 His grumbling was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. They were loud and fast... like someone was running.

 How was he able to hear that over the storm-

 Wait...

If he could hear them running...

And it was getting louder...

Then that must mean they were getting closer...

They were getting closer!

The rat jumped behind a garbage can quickly, breath quickening.

He listened intently.

Why would someone be running in a storm like this? Were they also fixing the mistakes of their children?

He peeked around the corner when the footsteps stopped.

Someone he couldn't quite make out was standing on the sidewalk, drenched to the bone.

 He sunk further into the shadows when they turned their head to scan the trashy area.

 Were they looking for him?

Did they finally get discovered?

Would he and his children finally end up being taken to a zoo or experimented on by scientists? Become mocked by the public?

But the person didn't seem like they were looking for someone.

They weren't rummaging through trash.

They were... placing something in it?

He managed to make out the rectangular shape of a box as the person placed it amongst the garbage bags.

He waited to see what they'd do next.  

They didn't do anything. They just left a lingering touch and straightened back up. They glanced back out at the street and drew whatever article of clothing they had tighter to their body.

 It was almost as if they were waiting for something. Or deciding.

But deciding on what?

Splinter inched forward curiously, accidentally knocking over an empty bottle with his tail.

He jumped when it shattered against the cement ground and whipped around to see how the unseen person would react to something breaking out of seemingly no where.

They were gone.

Just an sidewalk, a worried rat, and a... crying box?

Why was the box crying?

Was this a trap?

Was it Baron Draxum?

The foot?

Did his past finally catch up to him?

The crying grew louder and Splinter couldn't stop himself from inching forward. He had to know what was in there!

How lucky would he be if there also happened to be some food and bandaids in there.

Carefully, he took off the now soaked cardboard lid.

It wasn't a trap.

It wasn't supplies either.

And it definitely wasn't baron draxum.

It was a baby.

A tiny human baby, wrapped in a little pink onesie. Her soft brown hair was plastered to her forehead with rain.

She couldn't be much younger than Mikey.

Splinter took a step back.

Did that person MEAN to leave this child in a dark, cold alley?! Did they know someone would find it?!

 The baby cried again, shivering.

Splinter couldn't help himself.

He reached down into the box and picked her up carefully.

It was then that he noticed the packages of dry formula and bottle that had been in there with her.

Whoever left her...

They'd done it on purpose.

The poor rat man didn't know what to do.

He couldn't bring her to the police! He was a rat!

He couldn't follow after that person! They were already gone!

However... Splinter happened to be an expert at adopting creatures that weren't his.

He held the child closer, trying to give her his warmth.

What was one more child for the Hamato family going to do? Nothing bad, in Splinters opinion.

He had experience with human children before. If anything this should be easier than raising four mutant turtle boys.

They might appreciate some new company as well.

 It was decided.

The child was officially a Hamato now.

He grabbed the box with the formula and bottle and headed back for the sewer lid, the fussing child in his hands.

————-

The lair was stuck in the same chaos there was when he had left.

"Dad said no skating!" Donnie yelled, trying to catch Mikey as he zipped past him while lying belly down on the board.

 Mikey giggled, not even bothering to stop . He swerved to the right to avoid hitting Leo.

 "you need to learn how to walk right!" His purple masked brother protested. He nearly tripped over his own feet. "You're using the board as a crutch!"

 "Mikey you ran over my foot!" Raph yelled, clutching his toes. "DAD!"

 "Dad's not here, Raph!" Leo yelled, watching Mikey zoom past. "But it's my turn on the skateboard!" He joined Donnie in his chase after their brother via crawling.

Only Donnie really knew how to walk right at this age.

Well, Donnie and Raph that is. Raph could walk since he was a year older than Leo and two years older than Mikey. Donnie could walk because he was determined to beat Leo at something. He'd even taken it upon himself to read a how-to-walk article on the internet.

Mikey and Leo were still wobbly and couldn't run without their legs getting carried away and leading them face first into the ground.

Mikey was the only one that wasn't very good with his words yet as well.

He sure could shout and scream though.

Splinter shook his head at his children. "It is no ones turn on the skateboard!" He adjusted his grip on the little girl and gave the boys a stern look. "I have told you time and time again that it is too dangerous for you!

 They immediately stopped what they were doing.

 Mikey rolled off the board and looked at the ground sheepishly.

 The rat snatched the device from the ground. "I want change. Not guilt" He set it on the 'do not touch' shelf much to the dismay of his children.

 Leo's attention was drawn from the loss of his entertainment to whatever it was that Splinter was carrying. The way he held it was so careful. Like it was delicate. It had to be something special.

"What's that?" He pointed at the pink bundle. "Is it a toy?"

 "bandaids?" His box turtle brother asked hopefully as he pointing at his still hurting knee.

 "A science expiriment?" Donnie inquired, adjusting his rectangle glasses.

  Raph joined in before Splinter could even open his mouth. "Food?"

 "No, this is not food!" Splinter rolled his eyes. "This, my children, is the newest member of the family." He set the baby down in Soft shelled ones arms, curious to see how his boys would react.

The boys eyes went wide and no one spoke.

It was silent for a minute.

Maybe two.

They stared at the sleeping baby in confusion.

Wonder.

Curiosity.

The brothers huddled around to stare at it.

Splinter was satisfied. They were intrigued. Not mad. Not jealous.

So far, so good.

 Finally Donnie sat down, poking the girls face. "You mean as a pet?" He frowned up at his father. What was he meant to do with this creature? Was he supposed to feed and water it like a plant? Was it like those frogs he saw high school students dismember in biology on tv?

 "No, she is your sister." The rat nodded. "Now get acquainted while I go get her food ready."

The boys watched the kid with silent interest.

All but Mikey that is.

The boy hadn't really understood what Splinter meant so he went back to plotting to get the board back.

 Leo watched Splinter until he was out of the room, turning his attention to the baby in his brothers arms. "Sister? She doesn't really... look like us." He glanced at his own green skin and back at the baby's porcelain face.  "Is she even a turtle?" He asked as Donnie sat on the floor next to him.

  "Doesn't look like a turtle to me." Raph frowned. "There's no shell!" He pulled down the blanket she was wrapped in to get a better look.

 "I bet she's a bird!" Leo grinned. "She's gotta be a bird if she came from outside!"

Maybe she’d teach him how to fly! Maybe she’d teach him how to soar and build nests!

 Donnie rolled his eyes at his aliterate siblings. "Birds have feathers, Leo."

Were they seriously this dumb? Did they not know what a bird was?

 "Birds don't need feathers!" Leo protested. "Raph and I saw a featherless chicken on the tv this morning and it was EXACTLY this color." He poked the baby's arm and held one of her fingers.

Why did she have so many?

They were… small.

Donnie set his mouth in a straight line. "Leo, this is obviously a human baby."

 "Human?" Raph questioned.

 "You know... those people that are built like us but without shells and a different color on Sesame Street? They have five fingers?" He attempted at jogging their memories. "Like Mr. Noodle?"

 "She's Mr. Noodle?!" Leo gasped. "Who turned him into a child?!" He snatched the girl from his arms quickly and held her out. "MR. NOODLE! I’M YOUR BIGGEST FAN!"

 "She's NOT Mr. Noodle!" Donnie yelled.

The baby opened her eyes sleepily, awakened by the noise.

One was a soft honey brown.

The other was like the sky that the boys had only seen once before when Splinter took them outside.

"Woahhhhh..." Raph marveled. "Definetely not Mr. Noodle!"

Was it possible for people to have two different colored eyes?

Did all humans have that?

The ones on Sesame Street didn’t…

"What gave you that idea." Donnie rolled his eyes.

He couldn’t help but be intrigued by the different colors. How in all of science was this possible? He hadn’t ever heard of anything like this before!

 "Well, turtle or not, we're keeping her!" Leo held the small girl up proudly. "Welcome to the family!" He pointed out across the room dramatically. "Everything the light touches... or rather doesn't touch... is yours!"

 Splinter nearly had a heart attack when he saw how the confused child was being held. "Blue! You don't hold children like that!" He rushed from the kitchen and took the girl from him.

  "How am I supposed to hold her?" Leo pouted. "She didn't tell me I was doing it wrong!"

 The rat father barely could keep his face palm on the inside. "She is a baby, blue. She does not talk yet." He cradled the baby so the boys could see how to do it. "It is like this. See? You hold her head like so and she is safe in your arms."

  "Like a burrito!" Raph reached up excitedly. "Can I try?"

 Splinter set the child in his arms carefully.

 Raph adjusted his hold to copy what his father had done. "Like this?"

 "Very good, Red!" Splinter patted his head.

 "Move over!" Leo yelled at his brother. "I wanna try!"

  "Me to!" The smallest yelled, losing interest in the board. He didn't really know what they were talking about. All he knew was that if his brothers wanted it then he should want it to.

  "I'm the one that figured out she's human!" Donnie joined. "I deserve to hold her!"

 "You will all get a chance to hold her!" Splinter shut down their bickering immediately. "After all, she's spending her life with us. It is up to us as her family to help her grow."

 The boys nodded confidently.

They had a responsibility for this tiny child now.

Raph was excited to have a sibling who wouldn’t shoot down his ideas. Someone who would marvel at everything he did. Someone he could teach. Someone new to play with. There were so many more games they could play now that they had five people! He’d help her ride a bike, learn how to read, learn how to fight, and he’d help her become a member of their small family.

Donnie was less enthralled. Would he have to share? Would he have to babysit? Would this new sister make fun of his science? What if she was just like Leo? What if she started competitions with him that he couldn’t win?

Leo still didn’t fully understand that this child was his sister now; that she’d be staying forever. He was too excited to realize that. He’d be able to prank her! He had someone new to bother when he and Donnie got into fights!

Mikey still didn’t know what was going on. He just guessed that this would be the way they rolled from now on.

Neat.

 "What's her name?" Leo asked, patting the baby's now dried brown hair.

She gripped his hand softly, confused by the green color.

 Splinter pondered on what he should say. The child hadn't been given a name. There was nothing in the box that would even suggest one.

  But, his sons were named after great renaissance painters.

Maybe he should follow that tradition.

One of his mothers favorite artists was a woman by the name of Elisabetta Sirani.

He took his one idea and ran with it.

"Her name is Sirani." He nodded proudly. "Elisabetta Sirani."

Will also be posted on noandisaidno on wattpad!

@dakotafinely

@amirulamani

[michaelmyersmalewife]

the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat 3/?

- sephiroth/reader

- sfw

You were really starting to regret not getting at least a coffee as you made your way to the briefing room. Maybe it was just your nerves, or the fact you might’ve run a mile in under an hour, but you were feeling some horrible combination of tired and energized. You closed your hands into tight fists to calm your jitters.

You could already see their frosty apparitions just beyond the semi-transparent sliding door, the figure that could’ve only been Sephiroth turning in your direction as you approached. He was leaning against the ring of desks in the center of the room, arms crossed, with Director Lazard seated at a monitor right next to him. The screen gleamed against the glasses perched on his angular face, obscuring his eyes until he looked up at you. They were the same stony grey as his suit, which he smoothed down as he sat up, extending a gloved hand toward you. You shook it, slightly bewildered.

He was kind of a lanky man, his hair the dingy color of wheat. But he had kind eyes, the type that crinkled at the corners when he smiled even a little bit. He gave you a single, firm handshake before taking it back, folding his hands neatly in front of him.

“Good morning! I’m glad you could make it on such short notice.” he said, promptly sitting back down. “This won’t take too long, I assure you.”

Sephiroth gave you a nod in greeting, ambling over to stand beside you. You straightened your posture.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re both on the same page.” he said as he typed something in rapid succession.

“It’s no problem, director.”

Taking his hands off the keyboard, he set his elbows on the desk. “It’s come to my attention that you’ve made great strides in your training.”

Doesn’t feel like it, you wanted to add. You shifted on your feet, trying to keep your attention focused on the director and not on the eyes you felt boring into you from two feet away.

“So, starting today, you’ll be joining Sephiroth on his missions. At his request, of course.”

You didn’t know what to say, you weren’t sure if you could say anything even if you had the words. You turned toward Sephiroth, who - while facing the director - was looking at you through his peripherals, the corner of his mouth twitching just slightly before he erased all evidence of it. It happened so fast that it took you a few too many seconds to register it as a grin. You always wondered how he could do that. Suddenly realizing you had been quiet for an embarrassingly long time, gawking like a fool, you cleared your throat.

“I won’t let you down, sir.”

Sephiroth glanced down, the full extent of his attention on you now. Then, he did something strange. He smiled - like, genuinely. Not so much with his mouth, but with his eyes, squinting with something that wasn’t born from tired disapproval or aloof pride. Noticing your jaw had gone slack, you snapped it shut, facing ahead.

“Now that that’s in order,” Lazard started, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the wall-sized screen behind him. “You’ll be sent to Kalm to investigate recent reports of strange activity around its mines.”

The screen blinked to life, showing a map with dozens of little dots with one in particular highlighted among the rest. The tension in your muscles loosened. By all accounts, it was a routine job for soldiers in your class. You’d since lost count of all the times you’ve disposed of monsters and the like in the villages surrounding Midgar. If you were being honest, you weren’t sure why a 1st would be needed for something so mundane, unless they were really bent on getting this over with.

“We sent a group of 3rds to scope it out,” he adjusted his glasses. “All three are currently recovering in the hospital wing.”

Well, shit.

“You’ll be dispatched when we have everything ready. Should take a little over an hour but we’ll send someone for you.” he finished, looking much too optimistic for you. “I’m sure you two can handle this.”

“Sounds good to me, sir.” you said, feebly masking the tremble in your voice.

Lazard nodded. “Dismissed.”

Seeing Sephiroth bow his head, you stiffly followed suit, shuffling to the side as you followed him out of the room.

As you entered the hall, Sephiroth looked over his shoulder, slowing his pace as you eventually caught up to him. He looked at you with that same expression back in the briefing room, flicking his bangs out of his face with a single shake.

“Nervous?”

“Pff, me? Nah.”

There was a pause, and the gap in conversation made you not want to look at him.

“Good.” he said calmly, the sound putting your nerves at ease.

---

Flexing your hand, your knuckles popped, going back to gripping the edge of the seat. You were still being jostled by the uneven road, and it was taking all your concentration not to knock into Sephiroth (who was somehow so stationary you’d think he was glued in place). You were already trying to balance feeling nervous and excited, but when he so easily could’ve sat across from you in the otherwise empty truck, you were sure he was actively trying to make you puke. You stared out the window. You had already been on the road for some time, but it wouldn’t take you more than twenty or so minutes to get to Kalm. But every passing second felt like an hour.

You felt something nudge your arm.

It startled you, but you ignored it, thinking it was just a particularly rough bump in the road that finally shifted Sephiroth out of place.

Another nudge. You cast him a glance.

“You’re tense,” he commented in that flat tone he usually reserved for your training sessions. “Ease up a little.”

Without really thinking, you let your shoulders droop.

“You’ll be fine. Think of it as any other mission you’ve cleared.”

“Right.” you mumbled.

There was a long stretch of silence. For a while - you couldn’t tell, really - all you heard was the sound of rocks and dirt crunching under the truck’s tires. Outside, grassy cliffs filled every corner. The sun wasn’t out today, and you could feel the latent chill from outside seeping in from the pane of glass behind you. Sephiroth leaned his head against the wall of the truck.

“My first mission, my first big one, went horribly.”

You looked over at him. Leaning forward, you perched your elbows on your knees. His chest rose in a silent sigh. You weren’t about to prod him to continue. He was far away in a memory, looking both unreasonably young and old. You shifted in your seat.

“Whatever the outcome, it’ll make for some good experience.” he finally spoke, slowly, like he was rolling the words around in his mind.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

He chuckled softly, his eyes fluttering shut. “Yes. Did it work?”

“You kind of suck at it,” you said, sitting upright with your arms folded across your chest. “But yeah..sort of.”

He blinked at you before letting out a bemused laugh, his shoulders shaking with the lilting rumble. You couldn’t help but crack a smile.

Just like that, the truck jolted to a stop, rocking you right into Sephiroth. You muttered an ‘ouch’ as you rubbed the part of your head that collided with his pauldron. You thought you heard a ‘sorry’ in response, but before you could acknowledge it there was a quick succession of bangs from the plate separating you and the driver.

“That was fast.” Sephiroth hummed, pushing himself up and reaching for the door.

Though it was incredibly overcast, you squinted against the brightness from the silver blanket of clouds that shielded the sky. There was a humid chill in the air, uncomfortably clinging to your skin like an ill-fitting sweater. It looked like it wanted to rain.

They had dropped you off just outside of Kalm, the small town peeking out of its cozy nest among a grassy plain. It was a short walk away, but already your presence was attracting attention.

As you entered the town, dirt road abruptly shifting into swirling cobblestone, you felt dozens of eyes on you. The streets were by no means crowded, but the handful of people that were out made no attempt to hide their stares. You had since gotten used to that sort of thing - you had to be, as a member of SOLDIER. But now you shrivelled at the feeling, just a little.

It was easy to ignore the looks - the good and the bad - but with a walking posterboy at your side it wasn’t as easy. It was impossible, and the further you ventured into town the more it seemed to cluster. Your pace broke, and you fell into step just behind him. He didn’t seem to notice, and if he did, he made no mention of it.

“Is that him?” a hushed voice passed by you.

Throwing a quick glance over your shoulder, you spotted two teens huddled together, trying to hide excited giggles behind their hands.

“It’s gotta be, who else has hair like that?”

You let out a snort, prompting Sephiroth to turn his head. It swivels to the side, right where you had been up until a minute ago, and there’s almost a hint of something frantic as he spends a second looking around for you. Finally setting his gaze on you - meeting your eyes - he gives you another one of his flash smiles, before refocusing on the path before him. Behind you, the teens burst into giggles, their shoes scraping against the stone floor as they scrambled away.

As you entered the town square, the slowly amalgamating crowd became a singularity, and something in Sephiroth’s demeanor changed. Like the air before a storm, you saw no trace of the man that seemed intent on easing your nerves. This was Sephiroth the war hero.

People were already approaching you - or rather, Sephiroth, who had unwittingly pulled a crowd into his own gravity. It took a fair amount of concentration to single out each voice among the cacophony, as they were barely audible over one another’s frantic questioning.

“Are you here to get rid of the monster?”

“We’ve been out of work for almost a week now!”

“Thank goodness they finally sent a real soldier to take care of this.”

“Mister Sephiroth can you look down here for a second?”

You felt a pulse at your temple, like someone just stuck a needle into your brain matter and pulled it out in the same breath. The crowd was what you’d imagine a rip current to feel like, and without really meaning to, you exited his orbit. To your relief, none of them seemed to notice anyway. You felt a little bad leaving him back there, but as the sound of clashing voices and photos being snapped dulled, you felt the tightening in your chest loosen. Despite the chill in the air, you found that you had been sweating.

“This all started because of them.” a man muttered to someone beside him.

They were standing at the very edge of the crowd, looking on with a certain intensity. Though they were both staring in Sephiroth’s direction, you couldn’t help but feel like that venom was directed at you.

“Oh come on, they’re just a bunch of guard dogs. You know who’s really responsible.”

“Still don’t sit right with me.” the first man said, brimming with spite. “They can show off all they want, still ain’t solving shit.”

You kept walking.

---

You had left the town square entirely, the noise nothing but an echo. Quietly walking past shops and homes, you hadn’t realized that you completely left Sephiroth in the dust. You were tempted to double back and drag him out of there, but as soon as you turned around you twitched in surprise.

There was a kid (a tiny thing, her tawny hair messily tied into twin pigtails and looking like she had just finished wrestling with dirt) standing about a foot in front of you. There was a sparkling curiosity in her eyes despite the impassive expression, and you realized that she wasn’t even looking at you.

“Are those real?” she pointed at the blades strapped to your sides.

You gave them a passing glance. They were nothing special, though you took care of them like they were. They were simple, SOLDIER-issued swords - twins, with black blades that reflected a dull image of you whenever you polished them. You unsheathed the one on your right, leaning over slightly as you lowered it to the kid’s level.

She hesitates, like it’s an animal ready to snap at the hands she has clutched close to her heart. But she takes a closer look, her sparkling eyes reflecting in its dark metal, warped but intrigued.

“Cool.” she says with a simple sort of reverence.

Slipping it back in its sheath, you peer down the path you took from the center of town. You sighed. With no hint of Sephiroth, you continued toward the mines.

You were only able to take about a handful of steps before you heard a soft pattering of shoes against the road shortly behind you. You didn’t have to look to see the kid trotting after you like a small shadow.

“Do you fight monsters with those?” she asked between breaths, struggling slightly to keep up with your pace.

“Yup.”

“It’s a pretty big monster.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“There were some soldier guys here yesterday. They got hurt real bad.”

“Well that’s..that’s why we’re here.”

She looked up at you, over her shoulder, then back at you. “Is your friend coming?”

“He’s not my - where are your parents?”

“I saw him back there, my brother thinks he’s cool.”

You rubbed your eyes, suddenly feeling very tired.

“Your friend’s got a big sword. Bet that’s gonna scare the monster away.”

“I’m sure it would.”

“So you’re really gonna fight it alone?”

“Probably.” Stopping mid-step, you felt the kid collide with your arm. “And that means you gotta stay here where it’s safe before the monster eats you. Or something.”

The kid paused, brows furrowing as if deep in thought. After careful consideration, she finally spoke.

“Okay - good luck!”

Seeing the kid trot back where she came, you stretched - your arms reaching for the sky - before you folded them behind your head. You really should’ve gotten that coffee.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A New Kind Of Misery (Part 2)

Summary: After a night out, the reader wakes up the next day to discover her soulmate mark is now on her body. Except she has no idea who they are…

Pairing: soulmate!Dean x Actress!reader

Part 1

Square: Slow Burn

Word Count: 5,900ish

Warnings: language, brief nudity

A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo​​

____

“Alright,” said Dean as you sipped on a beer on your couch, Dean pacing back and forth in the family room. You watched him go, smiling at him as you took him in. “I’m obviously not explaining this correctly or else you’d be freaking out.”

“Your mom was killed by a demon which led to your dad going on a vengeance trip in which you and your brother got dragged along. You were raised on the road and into this hunting life. Your dad died, the demon is dead but a whole lot of other stuff happened and you hunt monsters. I don’t think I left anything out,” you said. You held out the still full beer sat on the coffee table to him. “You got to try it. It’s from this brewery out near Napa and-”

“You are a little celebrity. I’ve been on the most wanted list. I’m legally dead and a criminal. You and me, we don’t mix.”

“Just because I act doesn’t give you a right to talk down to me,” you said. You got to your feet and he rolled his eyes. “I earned everything in this house. It wasn’t given to me. I did that.”

“My point being is that you live in an incredibly nice house and have money out your ass and your biggest worry is probably who sat next to who at some celebrity party or whatever. My problems? Life or death, every single day.”

“I thought I made it extremely clear,” you said, putting your drink down and getting in his face. You grabbed his arm and tugged down his jacket sleeve to reveal his matching mark. “We’re soulmates. I’m with you, you’re with me. There’s not getting out of it.”

“I’m not...listen,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders and guiding you to sit down. He went with you, giving you a forced smile. “So we’re soulmates. It does not mean we have to be together. You can stay here with your life and I can go back to mine. This never has to be an issue.”

“You’re something else,” you said, shrugging him off. You stood and left the room, heading upstairs to your room. You sat down on the floor and leaned back against the bed, reaching underneath for a shoebox. You pulled it out and opened the lid, taking out the small drawing you’d done years ago. It was a ring of fire, something you’d done in school when you learned about your marks. It was supposed to be an exercise on reflection and what you thought you mark would be. You remembered being scolded for drawing it but holding it up to your wrist, it was a near perfect match.

“What’s that,” he asked. You hadn’t heard him come in and shoved the drawing back in the box. “I remember doing that in school too. I drew the flames in a circle back then.”

“Why don’t you want me?” you asked quietly. He sighed and sat down on the other side of the box, tucking his knees up.

“Not a matter of what I want, sweetheart. It’s what’s right and what’s wrong. Getting you killed doesn’t seem very right to me,” he said. He flipped off the lid of the box, staring inside. “That a picture of you and your family?”

“Yeah. My parents and older brother,” you said.

“You’re cute,” he said, skimming through a few pictures. “These are important to you.”

“Our house had a fire when I was little. I took my bear and box out with me,” you said.

“Maybe it’s why we got flames. We both had fires growing up.”

“I don’t care what you do or how dangerous it is. It sounds like you’re really important actually. But no matter what you do, the most wrong thing you can do in the world is reject your soulmate.”

“You will die in my world. Even if I wanted to teach you, something will hurt you, take you, torture you, kill you, all before I even have a chance. You will be in pain and horrified and I might not be able to stop it. It’s not an if, it’s a when. And I can’t do your world. I just can’t. You live in the spotlight. I hide in the shadows. Coming here once was a risk I could justify but anything more and something might follow me and come after you. This conversation is all it can ever be,” he said.

“Be selfish and tell me what you want.”

He turned towards you and reached his hand up to your face, pulling you into a deep kiss. His jaw was a gentle kind of scratchy, his lips so damn soft and you could feel your wrist warm at your mark. He broke off and looked down, a deeper black making it up now.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck.”

“Cementing our bond? Tough shit. Now we need to-”

“You need to-” he said before you felt like you’d been hit in the gut. You gasped, a rush of who he was down in his soul hitting you. He grunted and grabbed your hand, riding through it himself. It felt wrong though, so much pain and trauma filling you up in your core. “Y/N. Y/N, breathe. It’ll be over in a second.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, taking another gasping breath. “You’re not feeling this bad ever again.”

“Y/N, you don’t understand. It’s not-”

“We’ll make it work,” you said, his hands catching you as you started to fall. The dark pit in your stomach began to subside and you shut your eyes, putting your head between your knees. Dean picked you up and sat you on your bed, sitting close by as he ran a hand over your head. “What was that?”

“I may have left out the part where I was in Hell for 40 years,” he said. You jerked your head up and stared at him, water forming in your eyes. “Don’t cry about it.”

“I’m sorry I care about you. It’s not like we’re connected on every level or anything,” you said. You rested your head down again, Dean moving his arm over your shoulders.

“I spent 30 being tortured. Then I couldn’t take it anymore so I picked up a blade and tortured for a decade. I became the star pupil,” he said. You risked a glance over, Dean staring at the bedding.

“I don’t know how you lasted that long. I couldn’t...s’not your fault for doing that. You had to stop the pain,” you said. He pulled his arm away and rested his hands in his lap. “Dean. It’s alright.”

“That is the tip of the shitty iceberg. You have to stay away from me.”

“No,” you said with a smile. “I’m sorry but no.”

“Why?” he asked. “You don’t know me.”

“I don’t, but we kinda do. You would not have come here if you could really stay away. We’re connected. No matter our situations, it’ll work,” you said.

“God, you’re as stubborn as I am,” he said.

“Looks like it. Can we agree to try at the very least?” 

He was quiet, absently staring at his wrist. He ran his thumb over it and you caught sight of some light scars on his body. 

“Your life is scary but it doesn’t mean the scary stuff is going to make me run away. I’ll learn and so will you,” you said.

“I can’t date the lead actress in one of the biggest Netflix shows,” he said. “The second I’m in the public eye-”

“There are ways around the public eye, Dean. No one even knew I spent most of the past year dating someone,” you said.

“Really?”

“Really. I can sneak out of here very easily. We know we can’t walk away from each other.”

“I’m in charge though. I need to stay away, I stay away.”

“I’ll let you think you’re in charge if that makes you feel better,” you said with a smile. He grumbled and you moved over to his lap, his pretty green eyes watching you the whole time. “It’s not me, right?”

“What’s not you?” he asked softly.

“You being so hesitant. It’s because you want me to stay safe, right. It’s not because you don’t...you know...like me,” you said. Something in his face changed and there was a fluttering in your chest. He slid his hand up to the back of your neck and kissed you slowly, hot breath fanning over your face when he moved away an inch.

“Don’t ever say something like that again,” he murmured. “I need you and that’s scaring the shit out of me.”

“I completely understand,” you said. “My brother told me it feels like you’ve known them forever and you just met them all at once.”

“Pretty good way of putting it,” he said. “Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t stay,” he said. He was looking over to the doorframe and you saw another man there. You jumped off of Dean but he held up a hand. “It’s just my little brother. That’s Sam.”

“Hey,” said Sam with a quick wave. “De. The nest. We gotta go before it starts to get dark.”

“Nest?” you asked as Dean stood up.

“Yeah. Vamp nest. It’s what brought us to LA in the first place. It get dangerous if we wait until night. I’ll be back later, okay?” said Dean. You nodded and watched as he headed out of the room.

“Be careful,” you said, catching them in the hall. He smiled and you returned it. “Wait a second. Can I come?”

“No,” he said, the smile wiped clean off his face. 

“We said we’d try though.”

“Y/N. Stay. I’ll be back later,” he said. 

“Alright. You guys can stay here tonight if you want,” you said.

“I’ll be back,” said Dean. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.”

He took off down the stairs with his brother and you frowned, hearing the front door shut. You jogged down to your office and sat down behind your laptop. You grabbed a notebook from the drawer and a pen, turning over a new page before you were on the internet. For a beat you paused but then you were searching vampires and writing down anything and everything you could about them.

Four Hours Later

“Hey,” said Dean, knocking on your office door. You jumped, Dean smirking to himself. “You weren’t-”

“Oh my God,” you said as you stood up and saw him covered in blood. You were wide eyed but he laughed. “You need a hospital!”

“This is from the vamps. I have a few bruises I think but that’s all,” he said. You walked up to him and looked him over, Dean carefully keeping an eye on you. “Y/N? You gonna freak out on me?”

“No. You can clean up in my shower,” you said. “I can order takeout.”

“Alright,” he said, glancing over at your computer. He followed you upstairs and to your bedroom. You flipped on the light as you headed into the bathroom, Dean taking it all in. You found some big towels for him and set them down on the counter. He was staring in the mirror when he seen he’d been caught by you. “You have a gorgeous bathroom and I look like a brute.”

“It’s just a bathroom,” you said, showing him the shower. “Feel free to use my stuff to wash up. I’ll try to clean those clothes of yours up for you while you’re in here.”

“Bleach and elbow grease normally works,” he said as he started to take off his jacket. “You really don’t have to. This stuff is gross.”

“Blood in clothes doesn’t bother me,” you said. “I’ll uh, give you your privacy.”

“Doesn’t really matter,” said Dean. “It’s not like were not going to see each other naked at some point anyways.”

He undressed and left his wallet on the counter along with his phone and watch. He got down to a pair of black boxer briefs and you cocked your head.

“What?” he asked.

“You have a very cute butt,” you said. He smirked and shook his head. “What?”

“Should have seen your own ass in season 1,” he said.

“Take your shower, goofball,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Oh. How do you take your steak?”

“Medium? Why?” he asked.

“I’m getting us takeout, remember?” you said.

“We have very different definitions of takeout,” he said. “Don’t get me like some vegetable on the side please. Vegetables aren’t my thing.”

“French fries?”

“More than okay,” he said. You found your hooded robe from your closet and put it on the counter as well, hoping that it was oversized enough to at least get his top half covered up for dinner. You ducked outside and went to the laundry room to grab the empty basket, returning to the sound of the shower on and Dean’s bare backside greeting you. 

“Damn,” you said to yourself. He looked over his shoulder with a shy smile but he didn’t cover himself up. You felt heat in your cheeks and quickly gathered up his clothes and took them to the laundry. You called for some dinner before you set out trying to clean the clothes, quickly realizing this was going to be more difficult than you thought. You pursed your lips, quiet footsteps behind you.

“I can get that,” said Dean in a towel around his waist. His hair was damp and you spotted a few stray droplets he’d missed wiping off of his chest.

“It’s alright. Relax. You had a rough night,” you said. He smiled and stepped beside you, taking the bottle of stain remover from your hands. 

“You got some gloves?” he asked. You pointed up to the cabinet over the sink and he reached up to pull down two pairs of rubber ones. He slipped it on and bundled his clothes up in the sink before he grabbed a bucket on the floor and filled it up with some water and mixed in some bleach. He set the bucket in the sink and poured some on his clothes, humming as he started to roughly scrub the clothes between his gloves and you began to see red stain come out. When it looked good he would toss it in your washer and wash what he could down the sink. “Easy peasy.”

“Do you not have any other clothes?” you asked.

“I’m not much of a clothes guy,” he said. “I have my duffel in my car with some. I didn’t really think to grab it before Sammy went back to the motel.”

“A motel? He could have stayed here,” you said. He shrugged and took off his gloves.

“We’re simple,” he said. “Your uh, robe was a little short.”

“What size are you?” you asked, pulling out your phone.

“XL. Why?” you asked.

“One hour delivery,” you said. “I’ll get you some clothes. Dinner’s going to take a bit anyways. Do you like salmon?”

“To eat?”

“No, the color,” you said, showing him a hoodie on your phone. He raised an eyebrow and you glanced in the washer. “Black?”

“Black is good. Really, Y/N, you don’t have to.”

“I can’t hunt and I’m not great at washing up vampire blood apparently but I can do this for you,” you said. 

“Alright,” he said. You turned on the washer and you headed downstairs, getting Dean a blanket to wrap around himself while he took a seat on the couch. You gave him the remote and ordered a few things for him before going into your office and putting away your notebook. When you returned he was watching an old episode of Scooby doo and you smiled, taking a seat on the couch beside him. “Were you researching vampires while I was gone?”

“A bit,” you said.

“I have a journal I can send you. It’s got the actual information you need in there,” he said. “On anything and everything.”

“Cool,” you said. “I’m guessing the garlic thing isn’t real.”

“No, no. The sun irritates them but it’s not like they can’t go out in it. I had a buddy who was one, wore sunglasses and a coat out and he was pretty good,” said Dean. You went wide eyed and he smiled. “Not all monsters are bad just like not all people are good. It’s a gray world. I have a good friend that’s a werewolf.”

“Your life is so weird.”

“My best friend is an angel. My other friend is the Queen of Hell,” he said. “Oh and I help raise the son of Lucifer.”

“I can’t believe you’re not besties with God too,” you laughed. He rolled his eyes and sighed. 

“Chuck’s a dick but he’s dead at least,” said Dean.

“Did you just say God is dead?” 

“Like I said, it’s a gray world.”

“Right.”

You slumped back into the couch and shut your eyes. 

“When you said your life is dangerous…”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s a lot of weird stuff.”

“How do you get through it? Who takes care of you?”

“Me and my brother just push through it. It’s what we’ve always done,” he said.

“It seems like an incredibly hard life.”

“It has it’s moments. Your life can’t be easy either.”

“I make a TV show,” you said. You crossed your arms and absently watched the cartoon. Dean moved beside you and you felt his arm slid around your waist. “I don’t even watch horror movies because I get scared. Your life is a horror movie.”

“Yet you’re still here,” he said. “Not only that, but you’re trying. Let me try and do the same.”

“I make a TV show,” you said again.

“You’re telling me there’s no pressure involved with that?”

“No. There’s an incredible amount of pressure. It’s not life and death though.”

“Yeah but you doing a really good job, that gives a ton of other people jobs. It puts food on their tables, pays for the roof over their head. You sacrifice your privacy, your time. Your job is harder than you make it seem.”

“If it wasn’t me in the job, it’d be some other actress,” you said.

“Trust me, people watch for you,” he said. 

“Do you...watch the show?”

“Yeah. We always binge the new season when it comes out. It’s good,” he said. 

“Thanks,” you said, something tickling at the back of your mind. You took out your phone and checked your messages, groaning when you saw the one’s from Patrick. “I completely forgot I’m supposed to go to a party tonight. It’s for Danny, my co-lead. He’s like my brother. I…”

“Go,” said Dean with a smile. “It’s okay.”

“You could come if you wanted? After dinner,” you said. Dean made a face and you smiled. “It’s private, I promise. Danny’s a quiet guy.”

“Okay,” said Dean.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m sure people are going to notice your mark appeared anyways. I don’t think introducing me to some trusted friends is a problem,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said, kissing his cheek. “I’ll let him know we’ll be a little late.”

“My black hoodie is dressy enough?” he asked.

“It’s a backyard party with beer and a bonfire. You’ll fit right in.”

“That steak was so good,” said Dean, rubbing his stomach as you got out of your car at Danny’s house.

“Good. You deserved it after going all Buffy today,” you said.

“Was that a tease, princess?” he smirked.

“I think it was, Buffy,” you laughed. You grabbed his hand, led him around to the back gate and walked around the house to the patio. There were less than ten people there and you knew all of them, Danny turning his head and catching you. “Hey birthday boy!”

“About time! Seriously though, you just met your soulmate today. You didn’t have to come, Y/N,” he said, giving you a hug. “I’m Danny.”

“Dean,” he said, shaking Danny’s hand. They shared a strange look with one another before they broke off. 

“Winchester?” asked Danny quietly. He nodded and Dean smiled. “Haven’t seen you in...fourteen years?”

“I’m 32 so that’s about right,” said Dean. “How’s the family?”

“Good. We laugh about it now,” said Danny. “Tell your dad thanks again when you get a chance.”

“He died a few years back.”

“That’s too bad,” he said before he looked at you. 

“Keep her safe,” said Danny.

“I plan on it,” said Dean. 

“Well there’s drinks in the fridge or you’re welcome to the liquor cabinet. Y/N can show you,” he said. 

“How do you-” you said as Danny shook his head.

“Some stuff, you just don’t talk about, Y/N,” he said. “We’ll keep him under wraps tonight.”

“Thanks, Danny,” you said. You guided Dean inside and set Danny’s present down on his kitchen table, heading over to the counter where he’d set out some alcohol. “So. How do you know him?”

“Ghoul case in his town when I was about eighteen. He was a few years younger if I remember. Him and his brother Joe got into a bit of a mess. We got them out of it,” he said.

“How many people have you saved?” you asked.

“What?”

“How many have you saved?” you asked as you started to make yourself a whiskey sour.

“I don’t really keep track of that sort of thing. I think more about the ones I couldn’t save to be honest.”

“I’m going to guess you’ve saved more than you lost,” you said. “Cut yourself a break.”

“Self-hate is kinda my thing,” he said with a chuckle.

“We’ll see about that,” you said, grabbing another glass. “You want one?”

“Sure,” he said. “You know, just cause we’re soulmates and we’re trying doesn’t mean you’re gonna fix me.”

“I’m not trying to fix you. I just...wish you saw what I did.”

“You barely know me.”

“True. But my soul knows your soul very well. Let’s call it a gut feeling,” you said. He hummed and you made another drink for him, Dean carrying it out to the backyard. You introduced him to a few more people and found a pair of seats by the fire. He relaxed more the longer you were there but you knew he was nervous. After a few hours you said your goodbyes and headed home with him, Dean easing up once you were back at the house.

“It’s getting kind of late,” he said. 

“Do you want to head to bed?” you asked.

“I think...I’m going to grab my stuff and head back to the motel. Sam and I have a long drive in the morning,” he said. You stared at him and he rubbed the back of his neck. “This’ll never work. I can’t...I can’t pretend. I could barely pretend in front of eight people tonight. We don’t live in a bubble. I’m sorry, Y/N. This isn’t going to work,” he said. 

“Then leave,” you said. You went upstairs to the laundry room and took his things out of the dryer, carrying them down and shoving them in his arms. “Never come back.”

“Y/N. If you weren’t-”

“But I am, Dean. I’m in the public eye and you hide from it. Fine. Go hunt and I’ll stay here and we’ll both be miserable. I was never asking you to give up what you do, you know. It scares me but I was willing to try. You lasted two hours at a party with my friends who think you fix cars for a living. It’s obvious you wanted a way out. You’ve wanted out since you came here. So just go and stay away.”

He looked down and went outside, waiting on your front steps for about twenty minutes before you heard a car pick him up. 

You wiped off your face and went up to bed, crawling under the covers and wishing you’d never met him in the first place.

Three Months Later

“Back off!” you shouted at the guy dragging you down a hall in a sketchy warehouse. You kicked your leg back and hit him hard but he didn’t budge an inch. He dragged you over to a chair and tied you to it before pulling out a sharp looking knife. “I have money. You can-”

“I’m a demon, sweetie. I need to talk to your boy toy,” he said.

“I haven’t spoken to him in months. I barely know the guy,” you said.

“Hm, not what your internet search history says. You suddenly into the supernatural now?”

“Why is a demon checking my browser history?” you asked.

“Honey, the second word got out that Dean Winchester’s soulmate was out there, every demon with a bone to pick with him went looking for you. I just so happened to get lucky and possess a guy in your manager’s office.”

“Lovely,” you mumbled, swallowing when he pointed the blade at you. “Maybe we can negotiate a deal before you use that.”

“My deal will be with Dean, not you. He’ll be dead and so will you so I wouldn’t-”

“Cory my dear,” said a female voice behind him in the darkness. He glanced over his shoulder and shot straight up.

“Rowena! How nice to-”

“Cory. What did I tell you about the Winchesters?” she asked.

“They’re hunters. There’s no such thing as off limits hunters,” he said.

“Go,” she said, snapping her fingers. You stared as she stepped into view and she gave you a smile. “Hi dearie. Don’t worry about him. He’s off in purgatory.”

“Dean said you guys were friends, right,” you said.

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “Would you like to go see him?”

“Not-” you said, suddenly in the middle of a large room. You spun around, books everywhere, tables here and there and Dean eating cold pizza out of the box at one of them. 

“Y/N?” he said, getting up and looking to Rowena. “What happened?”

“Troublesome demon took her. She’s fine and he’s dealt with. It was nice meeting you. I’d stick around but you two look like you need to have a conversation,” she said. She disappeared and you blinked, Dean walking over to you.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” you said, pulling your hand away when he reached for yours. “Just drive me home.”

“We’re in Kansas.”

“...Well, drive me to a rental car place and I’ll drive home myself,” you said. “How do I get out of here?”

You tried to go past but he caught your arms, sliding his hand down to your mark. You glared at him and he sighed, running his thumb over the skin there.

“This changes absolutely nothing you realize. Stay out of my life,” you said. You tugged on your arm and he let you go. “Where’s the exit?”

“Just...give me a second,” he said. He went over to a cabinet by the wall and opened a bottom drawer, pulling out a folder. He set it down on a table and opened it up, an ID and other documents in there. “I need to be anonymous. It has to be just us. No friends. No family. It’s too dangerous. But we can go places and be alone. You can come-”

“Anywhere I go there is a chance I am recognized and a chance someone takes a picture and it ends up on the internet. People are already dying to know who you are. This only works if you give up what you do or I give up what I do and that’s not fair to either one of us.”

“Then from now on in public, I’m Dean Campbell. It’s what I go by around here. I’m just a quiet Kansas boy who works on cars for a living who will try to stay out of the limelight and the other part of the time, I’ll go do my job,” he said.

“Just like that, you’ve changed your mind.”

“Not just like that. It takes time to forge a new identity. People will ask questions. Now they have answers,” he said. “This stuff is out there if anyone wants to go digging. It took time to get it in place.”

“How long?”

“About three months. We have to do it ourselves and to make it credible, it takes time.”

“So what was your next move?”

“Get out to LA. Stand at your door. Hope you could understand.”

“A demon kidnapped me today.”

“I don’t guarantee that doesn’t happen again,” he said. “All I can offer is my crappy soul.”

“It’s not crappy,” you said, taking a seat. “Dean, you walking away like that hurt. A lot. Even for good reasons, it hurt. I’m not ready to try and date you.”

“I get it,” he said. 

“Friends?”

“I’m okay with that,” he said. “I know I’m pushing but would you want to stay the night?”

“Sure. Just as friends though.”

“Just friends, I promise.”

Two Months Later

“Did you see that!” you said, Dean shaking his head as you jogged back over to Baby. “I shot a ghost!”

“That’s real good, sweetheart,” said Dean as he kept trying to light a match. You spotted the ghost behind him again and shot, Dean nearly jumping down into the grave. 

“Sorry!”

“It’s fine,” he said before he tossed the match in. He took a deep breath and walked back over to you, giving you a once over. “Not bad for a princess.”

“I’m supposed to be getting ready to go to a network party right now,” you said.

“Yeah but hunting’s more fun,” he said, wiping a bit of dirt off your cheek. “Get scared at all?”

“Oh definitely! But I think I got that adrenaline high thing right now,” you said, Dean chuckling as he took the shotgun from you.

“Just a smidge,” he said. “I got a surprise for you.”

“What?”

You blinked and found yourself back home in LA with Dean, Rowena giving you a wave before she disappeared from view.

“Want to go to your party?” he asked.

“Why are you here though?” you asked.

“Because after a hunt, you go out and celebrate.”

“What about Sam? And the car?”

“Baby’s fine with Sammy. Come on. I bet I look good in a tux,” he said.

“Dean,” you said, smiling at him. “Want to stay home instead?”

“Yes,” he said and you let out a big laugh. “The party is fine too. Just...home is better. Actually a diner would be amazing.”

“I know a place,” you said. “Let’s go take a ride.”

“You have the best pie,” said Dean to the waitress about an hour later. She laughed and you munched on a french fry, Dean already wolfing down his last bite.

“Can we get another piece of the cherry for him and I’ll take a slice of that chocolate looking one,” you said.

“No problem,” she said. After a moment she returned with the food, Dean diving into his pie again.

“I knew you liked pie. This must be really good,” you said.

“I place it at number four. Above Sally’s in Bismark but just below 511 outside Phoenix,” he said. “This is high quality pie we’ve got here.”

“Part of the after hunt tradition?” you asked.

“On the good hunts, yeah,” he said.

“What we did tonight, that was super easy, wasn’t it.”

“Yeah. But you start small. I wouldn’t mind keeping you away from the big hunts permanently,” he said. 

“Going soft on me there, Winchester?” you asked.

“Maybe,” he said. He leaned over the table and gave you a kiss. He smiled when he moved back to his seat and took a bite of his pie with a hum.

“You kissed me. In public.”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” he said, smirking to himself.

“I hadn’t realized we shifted into dating,” you said.

“Y/N. If you never wanted me to be anything more than a friend, I’d live with it. I deserve it for how I acted before. But-”

“No, you don’t,” you said, standing up and sliding into the booth beside him. “I want us to be together because we want to, not because you felt like you owed me.”

“What about the rules of being soulmates?” he asked. 

“Screw the rules,” you said. He smiled and slid his plate of pie in front of you. 

“Well I don’t share top ten pie with just anybody,” he said. “Maybe next week I can go to your premiere party.”

“You don’t have to,” you said.

“I know. I want to.”

“Okay,” you said. He took your hand under the table and returned to eating, absently brushing his thumb over your mark. “Dean?”

“Mhm?” he said.

“Don’t call your soul crappy again. It’s beat up but not crappy.”

“Maybe that’s why it’s you. I need someone to believe what I have a hard time doing myself.”

“We’ll get there,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Now how about that pie, Winchester.”

_________

[cajunquandary]

The One with Red Sky at Morning

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam, Castiel

Summary: After a difficult hunt, you and the Winchester brothers want nothing more than to rest. As fate would have it, things don’t go so smoothly.

Warnings: Natural disaster, a little flangsty.

WC: 2300

A/N: This was written for @smol-and-grumpy​ “NAT’S SUPERFRIENDS TITLE CHALLENEGE.” My title was “The One with Red Sky at Morning.” I actually wrote several versions of this but settled on this one. A very similar situation happened to me when I was very young, out hunting with my father deep in the woods of South Georgia. All we had was a four-wheeler and a lot of quick prayers. To this day I don’t know how we made it out alive. Enjoy my first writing back from a three-year hiatus! This might get rough. Suggestions welcome!

Also, sorry not sorry, I was feeling giffy~

“Faster!” You yell, a shriek threatening to escape your core.

“C’mon, Baby,” Dean prays through gritted teeth, both feet forcing the accelerator to the floor. The speedometer stops measuring past a hundred and twenty. You gulp as the RPMs reach past the point of no return.

“We’re not gonna make it, Dean,” Sam goes pale, breaths quick and shallow, voice breaking as he spoke his brother’s name.

In the rearview mirror, you can just make out beads of sweat tracing the concern lines on Dean’s forehead, a black abyss behind him. You grab onto Sam from the back seat, burying your face into his flannel. Dean’s string of curses is soon overpowered by the ghostly sounds emanating from the beasts on your tail.

The air is hot and electric, raising every hair on end. When you hear the crack, your blood runs cold.

This must be it, the end.

You stumble sleepily out of the slight motel bathroom and over to the coffee maker. Without so much as peeking, you masterfully load the grounds and water and press the magic button. Oh, how you love that button. Scratchy bedsheets stir behind you, but you pay no attention. A shadow of a smirk creeps across your face. The holy bean water is ready. You take the much-too-small Styrofoam cup with you to sit at the table by the window. Lifting the chalice of your soul to your lips, you inhale as if you’d been starved of oxygen all night. Your eyes gradually open, adjusting easily to the low light of the room. The sweet scent helps to knock the cobwebs from your mind, the warmth radiating from your palms to the depths of your bones.

What a week it’d been. But right now, you don’t want to think of the vamp nest or their victims. Right now, you revel in the tranquility. In the bed near the door, Sam is rubbing the sleep from his eyes, no doubt about to share some coffee with you at the table. On the couch, Dean’s limbs are sprawled in awkward positions, but he still snores gently.

Finally, a smile graces your lips as you watch Dean. He’s so peaceful. There’re no lines on his forehead or forlorn frown below his freckle dusted cheeks. You almost wish he could stay like that forever—at peace. You also wonder what it might be like to touch him, hold him. After the hunt and almost losing him, being more than a few inches away from the man actually hurts. You couldn’t imagine never again seeing those deep, loving eyes, or the way he sings in the car, or dances when he thinks no one is around.

Catching you just before you jump off the deep end into thoughts and memories of Dean, Sam finds his seat next to you. Trying to brush the obvious daydreaming off as nothing, you take a gulp of coffee, only to grimace in pain as it burns all the way down, leaving your upper lip and tongue tingling.

Sam chuckles. “You know it’s hot, right?”

“Yeah, thanks.” And so is something else in the room, you can’t help but to think to yourself.

You set the rude drink upon the table and stand to open the curtains. With a thrust, the stubborn things release and reveal the world outside.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp. You stare for a moment just to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. You rub them. You stare a moment more, then rub them again. Red skies morning, sailors take warning.

You look over to Sam, your body rigid.

“What is it, Y/N?”

“Sam, check the weather. Now.”

As if on cue, Dean’s phone is the first to sound the alarm, shortly followed by yours and Sam’s.

“It’s a weather alert—severe storms coming,” Sam stood from the table to look outside as well.

Dean groans from the space behind you, “Well then let’s get a move on.”

You don’t even bother getting dressed, instead throwing one of Dean’s old flannels over your thin t-shirt and leggings. Just like your days in EMS, your boots and pack stand ready next to your bed.

Within a minute, everyone slides into the impala, coffee forgotten. As Dean pulls onto the highway, you and Sam map out the fastest way to get home to the bunker with the least amount of bad weather to drive through, looking for a place to stop for food if possible.

Around two hours in, the drive is going decently well, with only a few patches of hail and heavy rain. You begin to doze off to the comforting lull of the Impala and the Allman Brothers.

Your body betrayed you as it twitched violently. Still on edge after the hunt, you jump from the action, accidentally hitting Dean in the shoulder.

“You good?” He glances quickly in your direction, adjusting his hand on the wheel.

Heart beat loud in your ears, you lean back and return a quiet “yeah, I’m okay. Sorry.”

No rest for the wicked or the hunters, you suppose.

Dean hums along to the music. You are powerless watching the vibration of his neck, wondering what it might be like if your lips were to touch the spot where his pulse rippled the skin. You look down at your phone in an attempt to distract yourself.

Pulling up the weather app, you report the developing spot just up ahead. The brothers take note, then you lean against the window and watch the blur of pine forests and rolling fields. Even overcast, the landscape is breathtaking. You reminisce on your days in the back of the “bus,” what it was like when the tone would drop and in seconds you’d be flying down the road, lights and sirens, mentally preparing for the unknowns waiting for you on the scene. After ten years, there wasn’t much you hadn’t seen. This knowledge and wisdom helped but still couldn’t prepare you when a changeling become your patient.

You catch yourself, not wanting to remember the details of the attack, the ambulance rollover, or the death of your partner. You don’t want to imagine what would’ve happened if the Winchester boys hadn’t shone up when they did, or if you’d stayed in that town after the bodies were found.

Wiping an unwelcome tear from the corner of your eye, you refocus on the trees, enjoying their dances under the influence of wind lines.

Until one fell, bending until it snapped, twisting off halfway. Then another, and another.

“Uh, guys?” When had it gotten so dark? You check your phone for the time again. Almost three in the afternoon.

You don’t need to look behind you to know what it is. You don’t get the chance to tell Dean to floor it—he already is. You grip the seat tightly as the car lurches forward, shaking under the speed and the wind force.

It’s as if an invisible giant is stepping down on the forest on both sides of the highway. Oncoming traffic has ceased, some people have already bailed from their cars, seeking scant shelter in the ditches. Leaves and branches now swirl through the sky, littering the road ahead. Dean takes the next exit, not slowing down a bit.

You are so close to the bunker now, but the echoes of the angry titan behind you threaten to devour the Impala before you even have a chance for safety. You hazard a glance behind you.

No more than a mile behind the racing car, the tornado swallows the whole world, preceded by the biggest cloud of debris you’ve ever seen.

“Faster!” You yell, a shriek threatening to escape your core.

“C’mon, Baby,” Dean prays through gritted teeth, both feet forcing the accelerator to the floor. The speedometer stops measuring after a hundred and twenty. You gulp as the RPMs reach past the point of no return.

“We’re not gonna make it, Dean,” Sam goes pale, breaths quick and shallow, voice breaking as he spoke his brother’s name.

In the rearview mirror, you can just make out beads of sweat tracing the concern lines on Dean’s forehead and the rotating black abyss behind him. You grab onto Sam from the back seat, burying your face into his flannel. Dean’s string of curses is soon overpowered by the ghostly sounds emanating from the beasts on your tail.

The air is hot and electric, raising every hair on end. When you hear the crack, your blood runs cold.

You are covered in glass from the back window, the wind sucking the breath from your lungs. Sam reaches over and pulls you into his lap, holding as tightly as your eyes are shut. Dean masterfully swerves in an out, dodging unknown obstacles and navigating winding roads.

You recognize these turns. The bunker!

Castiel is already perched at the edge of the garage when you open your eyes. Still at full speed, Dean swerves the car inside, causing it to slide sideways and leave thick rubber tracks. Castiel struggles against the wind and grabs Dean as he bails from Baby.

“I can’t close it! We have to take cover, now,” Cas yells over the train whistle screams of the tempest.

Not missing a beat, Sam grabs you and doesn’t even pause to set you down. The alarms in the bunker sound off, competing with the storm.

You all finally tumble through the door and slam it locked behind you. You grunt as your ears pop from the pressure change and rub your jaw.

Heavily breathing from the ordeal, the four of you trade nodding glances, indicating that everyone is okay.

You are the first to break the silence, shaking bits of glass from your shirts. “I need a drink.”

Castiel and Sam follow you down the steps, but stop to sit in the war room. Dean trails on your heels, also eager for a drink. You grab the bottle but keep walking, ready to be in your own bed already.

Dean protests. “Hey, you gonna share?”

“Sure, but you’ll have to follow me.”

Once in your room, you take a long draught from the already open bottle of whiskey, then turn and hand it to Dean.

“Close your eyes, Winchester.”

Dean does as told, bottle already suspended at his lips.

You pause for a moment to admire those lips and the way they purse when he swallows. It catches your breath but you turn away, stripping the glass-ridden clothes into a pile on the floor. You curse under your breath as you realize the clothes that other than the ones still in the car, the rest were in the laundry room, several wings down.

You grab a pillow to shield yourself just in time as Dean opens his eyes to see what the matter is. He apologizes quickly and turns away. “What’s wrong?”

“No clothes.”

Without hesitation, he shrugs the shirt from his shoulders and extends it in your direction.

“Thanks.” You are so glad that his eyes are still averted so he can’t see your red face, the blush stretching through your whole body. You quickly slip inside the shirt and bottom it, thankful that it reaches nearly to your knees. You pause at the collar, lifting it to your nose and nearly fall as the heady scent of him fills your senses. Dean, standing now, catches you just in time, closer to you than ever before. His hands rest gently at your sides, and he chuckles sweetly as he leans in to kiss your hair. The whiskey still warming your bones, you wrap your arms around him, interlocking your fingers and burying your face into his bare chest. He pulls you in tighter, squeezing.

The stress of almost losing him on the hunt to that fang and of nearly becoming flying sky trash slowly falls away within the shelter of his embrace. He leans onto the bed and back farther, taking you with him until you’re both under the blankets completely intertwined.

The dim light provided by a small lamp in the corner casts just enough shadow that you can count the freckles dusted on Dean’s cheeks and get lost in the hazel green folds of his eyes. Could this really be happening? Is the hunter you’d be pining for silently for over a year really holding you this closely—in your own bed?

Your breath mixes with his when he leans in even closer and brushes your lips with his. You close your eyes and relish in the warmth and comfort and safety of his arms, the softness and taste of his lips, stubble grazing your chin.

You can still perceive faint sounds of the raging storm outside, but you have no more fear. You pull away slightly to enjoy the sweet smile on Dean’s face until a passing shadow crosses it.

An elated “finally” can be heard near the doorway. Sam winks and closes the door, retreating footsteps resonating down the hall.

A new storm blooms in your core as you surrender yourself to the ease of being so close to Dean. Together, you trade secrets and promises in the intimate moments before slowly falling asleep to the comfort of his voice.

Red skies morning, sailors take warning. Red skies night, sailors delight.

With the red flashes of the bunker floodlights filling the air, you did certainly delight, safe at last. Any wreckage could wait until morning.

TAG LIST:

@supernatural-jackles @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch @aseasyasdeanspie @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79 @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @inmysparetime0 @impala-dreamers-mainfrigginblog @impala-dreamer @arryn-nyxx @idk-life01 @attorneyl @akshi8278 @deathtonormalcy56 @xwing-baby​

*To be added or removed, shoot me a message

[rockhoochie]

Title: Anything and Everything

Link: On AO3

Square Filled: Tongue Fucking

Pairing: Dean Winchester/YN

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Fingering, Oral Sex (M/F), Tongue Fucking, Squirting, Unprotected Sex (seriously, just be safe), Marijuana, mention of prescription narcotic.

WC: 8,290

Created For @spnkinkbingo​

A/N: Well...this escalated quickly! The story is told in alternating POV between Dean and Reader -  Reader’s is regular text, Dean’s is italicized. I debated on splitting this into parts due to the word length, but...well, I’m impatient, and I’m really excited to share this with all of you!  Plus, I think it flows better if it’s read all in one sitting  😉

This fic is dedicated to @fangirlxwritesx67​ - remember that drabble prompt you sent me like, two months ago, that was Dean and reader laying on a comfortable floor, listening to music, and he starts playing with her hair, and they have a first kiss?  Well, here’s your drabble 😄 Thank you for the inspiration!

And thank you everyone for reading!  Drop me a line, let me know what you think - I love hearing from you ❤ ~Sarah

(’Lay Lady Lay’ music and lyrics © Bob Dylan, 1969)

I set a kettle on the stove to boil.

Thank god Donna has this place, and thank god that we were so close.  We’ve been here for days now, nursing our wounds: Sam had a bruised rib and a nasty gash on his torso. Dean had a concussion and a dislocated shoulder. I'd been flung against a wall - I don’t remember much because I'd been knocked out hard, unconscious for hours - but by some miracle managed to come out of it with only a few ugly bruises and a migraine. Not our worst injuries by a longshot, but we’d figured since we had a home base, we may as well take advantage of it. We’d packed up yesterday,  planning on heading out this morning, but an incoming snowstorm kept us from venturing out - it was half a day's drive, and even Dean couldn’t deny that the Impala doesn’t handle best on icy roads.

I like it here. It’s so quiet. And dark. No sirens or traffic, no various and questionable motel noises. No glare of city lights marring the night sky. The only light outside is coming from the moon, the only sounds are the ones I make. I look out the window, wondering when the storm will move in - the moon is full, its brightness gleaming off acres of driven snow that glints and glimmers against an indigo sky. Normally, a stillness like this is a warning, a silence this pure a screaming harbinger - but I don’t feel any threat here. No forebodings, no gut-nettling intuitions. 

It’s peaceful. I’m peaceful. If I ever leave this life behind me, if I’m lucky enough to dodge all the bullets and claws and teeth and blades, I’ll settle somewhere up here, find a small house on a lake that’s tucked away from the rest of the world. He’d love that. And we could just be, live out our days and years together, work stupid pedestrian jobs to pay stupid everyday bills. I’ll plant a garden and he can restore classic cars while we raise a family and just...live...

The kettle sings and hisses, and outside, snow begins to fall in fat, feathery clusters. I pour the boiling water into a handmade, slightly lopsided clay mug that proudly proclaims “I Love Auntie Donna” in a childish script, dip and drown my tea bag, and shuffle back to my spot in the living room - my little nest in a gorgeous, hand-crafted rocking chair next to the fireplace. Donna told me her grandfather had made it, and every time I look at it, it astounds me that another human being created something so beautiful with his bare hands. Every nitch, nock, and spindle carefully considered and meticulously carved. Some of the stain has faded, and patches of lacquer have dulled, but that only adds to its beauty - you can tell this chair was loved.  

The fire I’d built earlier is down to embers. I sit and stare into the blazing coals, sipping chamomile and scrying for answers to questions I don’t know. The room is warm, but I need something over my shoulders, need the weight of something wrapped around me.  There’s a flannel draped over the back of the rocking chair...one of Dean’s flannels. And it’s my favorite of his, the dark red one that brings out his freckles and the deep jade of his eyes. I take it and slip my arms through the sleeves.  It smells like him...like whiskey and wintergreen, leather and cotton, copper and cordite... 

I catch myself before I start to fall too far.  I need to pack up these thoughts and put them away where they belong before they start making me hopeful again. 

I used to let myself get lost in them, let myself wander through giddy daydreams and float among sultry fantasies...I’d close my eyes at night and pretend Dean was by my side, just an arms reach away. I’d imagine it was his fingers pumping inside of me instead of mine, hear his voice in my head as I made myself come. Or I’d simply think about spending a day with him - walking through a park in autumn, stargazing on a summer night, cuddling and kissing on a rainy spring day. But after a while, when I’d accidentally found myself in love with him, I’d put all those dreams on the shelf; I'd only take them down when I was at my lowest and loneliest, grasping for a reason to keep going. There were a few times I’d thought about telling him, making a move...but Dean Winchester doesn’t need another complication. None of us do.

~*~

The shitty thing about being used to four hours of sleep is that when I actually get the chance for more, my brain doesn’t get on board. I came up here a couple of hours ago and I can’t seem to keep my eyes closed. Just keep staring at the ceiling and thinking about things I shouldn’t...

I love this place. It’s cold outside and the wind’s howlin’, but it’s damn cozy in here. If Hell ever gets a blast of Minnesota weather - and I can pack it in, leave the life - I’m getting a place like this. Hell, I’d build it myself, make it just the way we want it. We could move out here, where it’s almost backcountry, leave all the bad times behind us. It’s gonna be on a lake though - I’ll get a boat and go fishing all the time, teach our kids all the tricks to hooking the big ones...

Jesus, knock it off, Winchester. Like she’d let you screw up her life more than you already have.

YN's moving around downstairs. I should see what she’s up to, see if she’s feelin’ okay or wants any company...nah, I should just leave her alone. She got her bell rung bad the other day and it scared the shit outta me...I kinda lost it and yelled at her like a total asshole. I don’t get why I do that. Gun to my head, I guess it’s cause it seems simpler that way - rather piss her off and keep her from getting too close, instead of admitting out loud how I feel about her and watch her run for the hills.

She was in and out of it for almost two days, and I’d stayed with her as much as I could, at least till Sam would bark at me to eat or sleep. She’d used herself as bait - again- and I fucking hate it when she puts herself in the line of fire like that. I can’t stand it when she gets hurt, and this last time was...pretty bad. But she’s stubborn as hell, can’t be talked out of anything she’s already set her mind to. Actually thought she was gonna punch me when I got in her face, but I escaped with only a “fuck off, Dean”. 

And I suppose those are some of the reasons my dumb ass went and fell ass over tea kettle for her - her grit and her style, the way she can dish it as good she takes it, how she handles either a gun or a blade with this almost unnatural grace... one day, I watched her make salt rounds for an hour and it was one of the most spectacular things I’d ever seen - she was in this total zone, her forehead creased in concentration, and lips mouthing the words to a song I can't hear, growling out the cutest “fuck” or “son of a bitch” if she messed up.  

She’s the best part of my day - whether it’s seein’ her all cranky and bleary-eyed in the morning, passed out over a pile of books in the library, or bent over a pool table while she hustles townies  - I can’t think of a better sight. And her laugh is goddamn music to ears. Her eyes, her smile...her anything and everything keeps me going. I can be two seconds away from checkin’ out, but one look at her reminds me that it's all worth it, worth every drop of blood, sweat, and tears.

Christ, just thinking about her like this is making my dick twitch. Doesn’t help that she laid in this bed the last few days because I can still smell her. Her perfume or soap or whatever she uses is fucking delicious, a mix of spice and spring flowers and brown sugar that sticks to her skin and practically makes my mouth water, makes me wanna taste her…

Fuck, now I’m hard. I think about jerking off for a minute, but instead I think about that time Cas showed up in my car naked and covered with bees and swing my legs off the bed. No sense in just layin’ here, thinkin’ about things that’ll never happen. I grab my duffel and pull out my flask (not much left in there, maybe two or three shots) and some clothes. Gonna check out the room down the hall that’s got one of those old school record players. Maybe some good tunes will calm me down, get my mind off things. Off of her.  I turn to leave but then I remember- there’s a little something in my bag I’ve been hangin' on to. I dig through all my crap and find it in the inside pocket. Awesome. Screw consciousness, I’m gettin’ high.

~*~

I hear footfalls against the ceiling - one of them’s awake. It could be Sam, but I know it’s Dean - I know his stride, his tread. And I also know Sam conceded to the pain and downed an extra dose of Percocet, so he’s all but dead to the world for the next six hours.

We all have problems sleeping, each have our lion’s share of blood-and- gore-laden nightmares, but Dean’s always seem worse. They take a bigger toll on him. He wakes up screaming more often, drenched in a cold sweat with his sheets flung from the bed. Sometimes I hear him shouting in the middle of the night and it breaks my fucking heart.

Maybe I’ll go see if he’s alright, if there’s anything I can do for him... I hope he’s not still pissed at me for what happened on the hunt. Sam told me it was just because I’d scared him, because he cares about me, that it’s just easier for Dean to blow up instead of break down. But dammit I wish he’d open up, just a little. There were a couple of nights he and I had spent just hanging out together, nights where whiskey was flowing and secrets were shared...but right when it seemed like he was going to let me in on what was really going on in his head, he’d stopped himself, drained his glass, and said goodnight. 

I know what he’s been through. Or rather, I know of what he's been through. It would be sacrilege for me to even try to begin to empathize. I know about things he’s done, his devils and deeds that are unforgivable in most circles but necessary in ours. 

Dean is a good man. Everything he’s done has been a labor of love, a sacrifice. I know he doubts himself constantly and I know he hurts, vehemently and deeply.  But if he’d just let me in, if I could love him the way he deserves, I’d do anything and everything I could to take all that pain and somehow dull it. Sometimes I can actually get a smile out of him and it’s one of the most marvelous things I’ve ever seen - when the corners of his green eyes crinkle and his teeth peek out from behind those ridiculously perfect lips...god, it’s beautiful. He is beautiful, inside and out and I wish he could see that. 

Now I’m wide awake. My tea’s gone cold, and I’ve spent too much time wallowing in these thoughts that shouldn’t be wallowed in, and I’m not quite sure what to do with myself. I glance out a window and watch the now steadily falling snow, listen to the wind whip and whistle through the frigid night air. Sitting here in the dark alone with all of these thoughts has become too lonely. There’s a  room upstairs,  a little den with a couple of chairs and one of those huge console record players...I’ll grab that book I’ve been meaning to read and hang out in there, let some music fill the quiet and the story busy my brain. 

I take my mug to the kitchen, place it in the sink, and pull Dean’s flannel around me tighter. Hopefully, he won’t mind if I borrow it for the night. This way, I can be close to him without ruining things.

Music echoes down the staircase and I recognize the tune as I get closer to its source. Bob Dylan. Nashville Skyline, I think. Dim, golden light beckons me to follow and leads me to a doorway. I look down and find him lying on the floor, with his ankles crossed, and one arm bent behind his head, blowing a plume of smoke toward the ceiling.

“Hey,” I whisper, and he turns his face toward me, looking up at me with mellow eyes and an easygoing smile.

“Hey yourself. Can’t sleep?” 

I shake my head. “Thought I’d come in here and check out Donna’s music collection. But I see you had the same idea, so -”

“So? Come on in, stay awhile.” He pats the floor beside him, then holds up the joint fastened between his fingers. “It’d be a lot cooler if you did.”

I should really go, leave him to his own devices, avoid torturing myself. But before reason has any chance to intervene, I find myself lying next to him. He’s more of a drug to me than the smoke I’m sucking through my lips. I want to stay away, I should stay away, but I can’t fucking help myself. So like a good little junkie I give in, tell myself this is no big deal, that I can go back to not thinking about him tomorrow.

~*~

I’m so glad she decided to stay.

I don’t know if it’s the weed or the cold, dark night or what it is, but when I saw her standing there, all I wanted was to just have her near me. Even if all I get to do is hear her voice or just feel her presence next to me...well, I’ll take it. It’s not like this anything new, we’ve hung out like this plenty of times...though it’s times like this when I get so comfortable around her, that I really gotta reign it in and make sure I keep my damn mouth shut. And it never seems to get easier - like right now. She’s humming along to the music, making up her own words here and there and playing air guitar and it’s friggin’ adorable. She really is one in a million and if things were different, I’d hold on to her and never let go.

Somethin’ Sam said a while back pops into my head - somethin’ about finding someone who knows the life - and for a second I think maybe things don’t need to be different. Maybe we could make it work. But then I remember I’m toxic. Even for a hunter I drink too much, have too many fucked up thoughts, done way too many fucked up things. No, she deserves someone good, someone better than me. I can’t even believe she’s stuck around for this long. Sometimes I just look at her and wanna scream, “run”, before she gets hurt. I’ve accepted that I’ll never get the happily ever after but she shouldn’t. She can still get out, have a real life, meet someone who’ll give her everything and make her happy. Never in my life will I be able to give that to anyone - it just ain’t in the cards for me.

Then she looks at me, passes me the joint with this sweet smile, and all those thoughts just fade away. And I wonder - like I wonder almost every night - how her lips would feel against mine. 

Sam keeps tellin’ me that I’m an idiot, that she really likes me, that I should go for it. And for a minute, I actually think about it, cause the way she’s lookin’ at me right now is downright incredible - she actually looks happy to be here, with me. 

Is she? 

Truth is I'm selfish. And a bit of a coward. I'm too afraid to love anyone because I'm too afraid to lose them. Everyone I've ever lost took a piece of me with them and I ain't got much left. If anything ever happened to YN, I’d be done. She’d take the last of me.

I’m feelin’ a little goofy. Not stoned or anything, but definitely running out of fucks to give. Then I glance at her and notice she’s wiggling out of her button-down.. .my button-down. She rolls it up, tucks it beneath her head, and stretches back out on the floor. Her tank top is creeping up over her stomach a little bit, and it’s stretched tight over her tits and she’s got nothin’ on underneath…

I swallow hard and bite down on my lip cause I’m this close to just flat-out telling her I love her.

~*~

Part of me wants to tell Donna she desperately needs to redecorate this room...but the other, the part of me that's stretched out on the floor, listening to classic 33s and getting high with Dean, is perfectly content with the old-school kitsch. The shag carpeting we’re laying on is surprisingly comfortable; The color (what is this, ocher? Chartreuse?) - shouldn’t be allowed to exist, but the long polyester threads sprawling beneath us are soothing in a way. The light is low, flickering from two vintage oil lamps that stand on each end of the console, and casts shadows beneath its warm glow.  

Dean looks like he’s about to say something, but the last song has ended and skipped into a static scratch. He hoists himself up to flip the record, and I perch on my elbows and just...admire him. He’s different here. I’ve seen him lounge around the bunker during downtime but tonight he actually seems powered-down, carefree. There's something almost magical about what the calm does to him, how it lifts the weight he carries. His shoulders are relaxed, his movements languid, unhurried and uncalculated, eyes bright and serene. And he looks so fucking good, wearing a well-worn and well-fitting Zeppelin t-shirt that he must've had since before he’d built up his muscle. Softened and faded jeans cover his bowed legs and hang low on his hips, and I don’t think he’s got anything on underneath because I get a glimpse at the cut of his abs and...  

I wish I could tell him how amazing he is, how much he makes me smile, how much I love him; I wish I could show him, hold him, kiss him and just love him with everything I have...

The music starts back up and oh my god… he’s dancing. It’s really more of a slow-motion Elvis maneuver, but it’s the closest thing to dancing I’ve ever seen Dean do. Every tick of his hips pulls the fabric of his jeans perfectly across his ass, and I shouldn't be thinking about him this way but he’s just so mesmerizing…

And then he turns and faces me with his best impression of his best Bob Dylan.

Lay lady lay, 

Lay across my big brass bed

Lay lady lay, 

Lay across my big brass bed...

I throw my head back and laugh, not because he’s being ridiculous, but because he’s being so goddamn perfect. And the joy I thought I’d lost the day I cocked my first shotgun is bubbling up and making me giddy. Or it’s him. Or it could just be the pot. This is a side of him that no one gets to see, not even his brother. I can give him this, a place to let go of it all and just be Dean Winchester for a little while. He’s easy here, content, and he actually seems happy that I decided to stay.

Is he?

He claims his spot beside me again, settling in just a little closer. He's still singing to me and I'm still giggling…

Whatever colors you have in your mind

I show them to you and you see them shine

Lay lady lay

Lay across my big brass bed

Somehow his hand found mine, and he's tracing my knuckles with one calloused fingertip. I take it in mine and glance down at the connection, marveling at how small my hand is in his but how perfectly it fits. His hand is so gentle, warm and solid...it’s hard to believe how often his palm has bled, how many triggers his fingers have pulled, how many bones his fist has shattered.

He shifts, rolls to his side, and gazes down at me while he keeps up his serenade.

Stay lady stay

Stay with your man a while

Until the break of day

Let me see you make him smile

I grin as he brushes my hair from my face, tucks a few strands behind my ear, winds a section around his fingers. Then I see something in his face that’s never been there before - a shade of color reflecting from his eyes that's deep and rich and vibrant…

His clothes are dirty but his, his hands are clean

And you are the best thing that he's ever seen

Stay lady stay

Stay with your man a while

The way he's muttering the lyrics...it’s so sincere, like he means every single word.  The warmth of his body is just out of my reach, and the low timbre of his voice begins to resonate through my veins, nestling into a locked corner of my soul.

Why wait any longer for the world to begin

You can have your cake and eat it too

Why wait any longer for the one you love

When he's standing in front of you 

He’s still playing with my hair, pushing any stray strands from my face…my eyes flutter closed and his touch becomes something warmer, softer. Delicate, intentional kisses pepper my cheekbones, my temples, my forehead...

Lay lady lay

Lay across my big brass bed

Stay lady stay

Stay while the night is still ahead

I feel his thumb and forefinger catch and tilt my chin, and I open my eyes. He’s so close now, close enough that if I rolled on my side I’d roll into him, that if I lifted my head just an inch...

I long to see you in the morning light

I long to reach for you in the night

Stay lady stay

Stay while the night is still ahead

The silent formation of the last few lyrics are the first thing I feel and then his lips are fully on mine, barely grasped between his and I've never felt something so tender and genuine carry itself with so much force. He's cradling my cheek and his kiss feels tentative, uncertain - but at the same time teeming with need, as though he’s waiting for my approval while praying with everything he’s got that I’ll grant it. So I lean into him, slide my fingers along the short hairs on the back of his neck, and pull him closer. 

~*~

Maybe it was the weed, the music, the way the light reflected off her… whatever it was, it just took over. She looked too soft and too damn perfect, layin’ there and smiling that smile. And I thought about the other day when she was lying unconscious on that blood-stained, concrete floor, and the way my guts twisted at the thought of losing her…

I just couldn’t do it anymore.

I couldn't go one more night without telling her exactly how much she means to me. And it was a cheesy way to do it, singing to her like that, but Bob knew all the right things to say.

I actually can't even believe she's kissing me right now, that she pulled me close and wrapped her arms around me. Part of me thinks she's nuts - she's gotta know I got nothing to offer her, that she deserves so much better- better than me, better than this life. I can’t promise her anything - can’t promise a future or comfort... but if she lets me, I can promise to love her, to kiss her with everything I’ve got every chance I get, to hold her close and protect her... even if it’s just for tonight. 

She makes a little sound and arches her body into mine. I don’t know how far this is gonna go, but I’ll take my time getting there. This may just be a fluke, a one-time thing. Or maybe it’s not, maybe I’m the luckiest bastard on the fucking planet...either way, I want to savor every second.

I keep the kisses slow, open-mouthed and gentle. But then I feel her tongue slide along my lower lip and I can’t help but slip mine against hers. This feels so good, just kissing her like this, tasting her and feeling her beneath me. She’s running her fingers through my hair, rolling her hips every now and then, sliding her hand down my side and across my back. I kiss her harder, deeper. She’s moving more, breathing faster, making these quiet little whimpers. I break away and look at her, smoothing some of her hair away from her beautiful face. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are half-closed and right at this moment she could ask me to shoot the moon and I’d kill it dead. 

Her hand brushes my cheek and she pushes into me, silently begging me to keep going.

“You sure?” I whisper in her ear, kissing the space just behind it.

She nods and mutters “please,” and I move my lips down her neck. Her body trembles when I land on the spot where her neck curves into her shoulder - I give her skin there a little nip and she gasps... fuck, I need to hear that sound over and over.  I’m gonna map her entire body, figure out just the right way to touch her. Run my hands over every point, plane and curve, find every spot that makes her moan and quiver and sigh. I wanna drown, lose myself in her. I want her to know that I know how special she is, that I get how lucky I am to be with her tonight, that I understand what she’s giving me. I kneel between her legs, take hold of her wrists, and slowly push her arms above her head.

I need to see and feel and taste every single inch of her and I’m not gonna be quick about it.

~*~

First kisses are usually awkward. Heads bump, teeth collide, hands float and fumble while they try to find a comfortable place to land.

So I don’t know if it’s dumb luck, or just that I’ve practiced this so many times in my mind, but we find a rhythm instantly and we fit, like we’ve known all along exactly how to kiss each other. It’s so perfect that I almost laugh out loud, dumbfounded that I ever thought that we shouldn’t do this. Our kiss is absolute, passionate and all-consuming, and sending every neuron in my brain firing into a tailspin. 

I never want to stop kissing him. 

My arms are above my head and he's teasing me, softly kneading my breasts over my top, flicking at the stiff peaks of my nipples. I lower my hands to pull at our shirts, to let him know I need to feel his touch on my bare skin, but he gently curls his fingers around my wrists again and guides them back up.

"Let me," he murmurs, sliding his palm down my breastbone, over my stomach and finally beneath my top. “Just... let me…” 

Right as he cups my breast and traps my nipple between his fingers he’s kissing me again, swallowing every sound he’s pulling from me. I melt into him, into his kiss, into his touch. He pushes my tank top over my head and then his lips are on my neck, my collarbone, my shoulders. My forearms and fingers are dotted with kisses, along with my hips and navel, and then he’s peeling off my leggings, never once taking his eyes off of me. I’m completely bare beneath him and he’s biting his lower lip, running his hands from each of my ankles to my calves, my knees, my thighs...he looks as though he can’t decide if he wants to ravish me or revere me.

He settles for a smooth, easy assault, touching and kissing me everywhere, lingering whenever I cry out or sigh. I’ve never felt like this, never felt so...worshipped. His fingers and lips glide along my body as though I’m a delicate thing - carefully, thoroughly, and completely. My skin feels taut, chilled and tingling, but my blood is pumping hot and fast beneath. And when his tongue swirls around my nipple, and he takes it between his teeth, I swear to god I’d come right now if he told me to. 

I know I’m wet, I can feel it, hot and dripping and my cunt is clenching, clit throbbing with a deep, insistent  ache that almost hurts. Dean is everywhere, exploring and marking and claiming, until I hear myself begging, pleading...I need to feel him inside of me. I need him to unravel me, to make me come undone.

~*~

The way she looks right now is so goddamn glorious, she doesn’t seem real. She’s ruddy and glowing, twisting beneath me, chanting my name and begging with kiss-swollen lips. I let my hand slide between her legs, run a finger between her folds and christ - she is so fucking wet. She lifts her knees and spreads wide open for me and I dip just the tip of one finger inside. She ruts forward and I push two fingers all the way into her tight, hot pussy and fucking hell, she feels smoother than silk. I keep it slow, steady, loving the way her eyes roll back when I flick my thumb over her clit, and the way her tongue darts between her parted lips as I twist my fingers inside her cunt, searching for that spot...

Her eyes go wide when I find it, and her neck arches back and her hands fist the carpet. She’s quietly moaning and cursing and pushing herself down, fucking herself on my fingers. I catch her scent and some animal urge takes over me; I pull my fingers from her, bring them to my mouth and suck them clean. She's like fucking nectar and I’ve never tasted anything so good and all I want is more…

I pull my shirt over my head, push my jeans off, press her thighs as far open as she can spread them - god, her pussy is perfect, so pink and slick - and take a long, slow taste. She moans, low and long, breathing out a desperate “fuck, yes…” as she cards her fingers through my hair. And I growl, I fucking growl like a goddamn dog, and drive my tongue into her dripping hole. She hooks one leg over my shoulder and tilts her hips and I grab on to her ass and hold her up.  I lick her deep, thrusting and flicking and swirling my tongue, filling my mouth with the flavor of her, then I peer up at her and...My. Fucking. God, she’s a vision. She’s shaking, twitching and gasping when my nose bumps her clit...

I slip my tongue from her cunt, ease her down and spread her open with my fingers, lapping at her folds, her entrance, her clit. Then  I take that sensitive little bud between my lips and suck and holy shit, the fucking sound she makes...I gotta make her come. I need to see it, feel it, hear it.

But first I drag my mouth up her body, stopping to nip at her neck before landing on her lips. She licks into my mouth instantly, sucks at my lower lip, pushes her tongue against mine and I can tell she’s about to lose her mind.

~*~

I'd been in more than one motel room next to Dean's. And I'd always rolled my eyes, convinced that whatever girl he'd brought back with him was just putting on a show, playing porn star with their over-the-top wailing. 

They weren't screaming loud enough.

“Can you taste yourself, baby?” he purrs between kisses, "You taste how fuckin' delectable your pussy is? So hot and sweet...” and I moan into his mouth. He slips his fingers back inside and curls them, nudging my sweet spot. “Want you come, YN…wanna make you fall apart..."

I'm biting my lip to keep from crying out too loudly, stifling the urge to scream because the pleasure he's giving me is so complete and consuming. I swear he knows my body better than I do. He's found places on me and inside of me that feel like they've never been touched until tonight. I'd thought maybe I was hypersensitive, so eager and thrilled that this was finally happening, but no - everything he does is deliberate. He finds a spot and knows whether to bite or kiss, push or pull, grind or slide, when to do it all at once or not at all. Every touch, every stroke sparks my nerves and ignites my cells and I'm down to my last fragments of control. I am utterly at his mercy, reduced to a writhing, wanton mess as his fingers slide inside of me, hitting my g-spot with incredible marksmanship. Then his lips land on my clit again, and...oh God. Oh my fucking god…

It starts in my belly, a molten heat simmering in my core, wavering a scant wavelength away from a fever pitch. It’s hot and thrumming and growing in speed and intensity until it can't be contained anymore. It bolts through me, hot and hard like an electric current and I go rigid as I come, the torrents of bliss saturating every molecule of my body. And then Dean is up on his knees, three fingers deep in my sodden cunt, his other hand laying flat on my lower stomach and muttering "Come on baby,...let go…let go for me…" Either I'm still coming or I'm coming again, hard and completely, and a quiet pull snaps from someplace deep inside... I completely shatter, so stunned with the sensation that I open my mouth in a silent scream as my cum splashes against his hand.

~*~

I tuck back down between her legs and softly lap at the stray drops sticking to her thighs. I’m about to go crazy - I’m hungry, starving for her, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this fucking hard in my life. 

I lay beside her, trace shapes on her collarbone, and watch her as she comes down - the way her tits rise and fall with every breath, the way her throat flexes when she swallows, the way the lamplight dances off her sweat-sheened skin. Her eyes are closed, mouth slightly opened, and her tongue sneaks out every now and then across her lips. Of all the ways I’ve ever seen YN, this has to be the absolute, bar-none best. She’s like a living statue or a painting, some kind of work of art. A goddamn masterpiece. 

I don’t want to stop touching her. Right now, I don’t even think I could. She shudders and opens her eyes when I gently trace a wet finger along her cheek. Then she grabs my wrist, pulls my hand to her mouth, and wraps her lips around the fingers I used to fuck her. She sucks and licks, and all I can do is groan as my fingers slide along her tongue. I gotta distract myself or I’m gonna shoot off right now like a teenager…

I take my fingers back and move to hover over her, and catch her lips in mine again. Kissing her is so...it just feels right. Like hers are the only lips I ever need to kiss again. If this is all we do for the rest of the night - hell, for the rest of our lives, I’d be one hundred percent happy.  But as we kiss, she starts to whimper, moan...and then I feel her fingertips skitter down my torso and brush against my cock. And I can’t help it, I grunt out a “fuck, YN” and chase her touch. She drags her thumb, then her palm against the tip of my dick, smears precome around my shaft then wraps me in her fingers. I bite my lip and rock into her fist while she strokes me, trying like hell not to lose it any time she gives the slightest squeeze. I can feel her breath on my face and I’m starting to fall into the rhythm, getting lost in her touch and the heat of her body beneath me…

Then in the flash of a second, she hooks a leg around my waist, shifts her weight and turns, and has me on my back. She's straddling me, and I watch her slick pussy drag along my cock while my hands slide up her thighs and grip her hips. My eyes wander, slowly, up her body, marveling at her shape and color and just the mere sight of her swaying over me. My eyes meet hers and then...I'm trapped. Hypnotized. Being here with this woman is like nothing I've ever seen or felt before, and there's some part of me that knows I'll never feel this way about anyone ever again.

~*~

My gaze meets his and I'm struck...with exactly what, I don't know. It's thrilling and terrifying at the same time but most of all it's certain; This is exactly where I'm meant to be, astride this beautiful man who’s lying beneath me, stripped of all his layers, and I can feel the moment he surrenders. His mind and his body, his control and his chaos, his pleasure and his pain, all together unfettered and unfurled. 

Potent and fervent primal desire sets in and overtakes me; I want to claim him, feel his skin between my teeth, taste the salt of his sweat.

I shift to my knees, slot myself between his open legs and lean forward, pressing myself against the solid heat of his bare chest, and catch his lips in a quick but ravenous kiss. He tries to chase it but I pull away, letting one hand slide up his sternum, splaying my fingers over his throat. I fist his hard, dripping cock in my free hand and stroke. He breathes out my name with a curse and his head hits the floor as my mouth latches on to his neck.

Releasing my hold on him, my lips move from his neck to his collarbone, down and across his chest, following the blueprint of bruises, scratches, and scars until my nose brushes against the thatch of dark hair between his legs.

I flatten my tongue and lick his thick cock from base to tip, then take just the crown between my lips and gently suck. The taste of his precome fills my mouth and he moans and trembles, exhaling a long, deeply held breath as he laces his fingers in my hair. I take him all the way then, as far as I can, until I feel him hit the back of my throat. I hold him there and swallow, let him feel the soft flex around his shaft. I slide up and down slowly, stroking the inches that can’t slide down my throat with one hand, and cup his balls in the other. He whimpers, high-pitched and desperate, and the mere sound of that sends drops of arousal trickling down my thighs while my cunt clenches and quivers. His grip on my head tightens and I keep steady, caressing and taking him deep, and let the tip of one finger press against his perineum. 

His body tenses and I peer up at him - the muscles of his abs are twitching, his neck is arched back, the tendons there strained and taut, jaw clenched, and teeth bared...he’s holding back, trying not to come. He hisses out a breath and gently tugs my hair, urging me to let him slip from my mouth. “Fuck, YN”, he breathes, and I walk my hands alongside of him, gliding my body against his and brush his lips with a gossamer kiss. 

We both breathe hard, panting, fingers tangling in each other’s hair, hips rolling, hearts racing. His hard, thick length is sliding against the soaked lips of my pussy, the head of his cock nudging my throbbing clit. I look into the dark forest of his eyes, he places his hand on my cheek and suddenly there’s a surge - a swift and commanding energy that surrounds us, tangible and unconditional. 

Our gaze locks as I raise my hips. He grips his cock, lines up at my entrance, and I sink down slowly, relishing every inch that stretches me open, my moan echoing his until I’m completely filled with him. 

~*~

It’s almost too much.

She’s so warm, so wet, and so fucking tight...I swear I blackout for a second. It’s taking everything I got to hold on, and every ounce of control I can muster when she starts to move. 

She’s groaning and sighing, and the way she’s breathing my name is like a siren’s song. I let her set the pace, tilt my hips to push into her as she rides me, find her hand and lace my fingers through hers. She fucks me slow, lets her head fall back and lays her free hand on my chest. Reaching up, I slide my hand between her tits, pinch and tug one nipple between my thumb and forefinger, and she lets out the most beautiful cry I’ve ever heard. And that sound wakes up the damn animal in me and I thrust into her, as deep as I can. I want her to fucking explode, feel her cunt throbbing tight around my dick and soaking me with her cum.

She pulls her hand from mine and moves it between her legs. I pinch her nipple again and she gasps as her body trembles, and I know she’s getting close. “Gonna come for me, YN?” I snarl, and she stills - her head falls back again and her fingers work faster, and I’m so caught up in her that I just start babbling. “Fuck yeah, YN, fucking come all over my cock…that’s my girl...” I pound into her faster as she gets tighter and wetter and then I feel it, her walls clenching and her cum dripping, her body finally going rigid as her orgasm tears through her. 

I slow down and ease her through it, trace my fingertips over the curves of her glowing body and take in how absolutely stunning she is right now - her hair all mussed and tangled, her skin flushed pink, her lips bright red and swollen. Her eyes open and she grins down at me, the lazy roll of her hips picking up speed and I just...fucking...can't anymore.

I throw my arms around her and pull her against me, kissing her sweet lips as I roll us over. She arches into me, takes my face in her hands and purrs "...want it all inside me...I wanna feel your cum dripping from my cunt…" and holy goddamn shit, I'm gonna give her everything she wants.

She raises her knees and hooks her legs around mine, digs her heels into the back of my thighs, squeezes the walls of her pussy around me and I’m gone - all I feel is her silky wet heat, and all I can smell and taste is her sex and I drive in, fast and steady until I can’t hang on anymore. I let go and my world stops, every living fiber of my being at a standstill as I come with a shout. I thrust hard and deep and spill every drop inside of her, pumping her full as she fingers herself to another climax.

I rest my forehead against hers as we both catch our breath. She curls one hand around my waist and the other around the back of my shoulder, raking her fingernails gently along the base of my scalp. I kiss her, soft and quick, and pull out of her, rolling on to my back while I gather her in my arms. 

I glance out the window. The snow’s still falling and the sun’ll start rising soon. The record is long over and skipping, and YN grips me tighter and shivers. “Hey, sweetheart...let me up,” I say, kissing her forehead. She groans but lets me go and I sit up, lean down to kiss her again and hop to my feet. I lift the needle off the record and find a quilt that’s tossed over one of the chairs. YN's curled on her side, and I can hardly wait to get back to her. I cover us both, pull her close, and I stare at her until I just can't keep my eyes open anymore. We drift off in each other’s arms and the last thought I think is a little prayer - that this is how I’ll fall asleep every night for the rest of my life. 

~*~

I can’t remember who said it first. All I know is that it was suddenly there, as though it always had been, free falling from our lips as we moved and moaned and came together. 

We’d awoken several times, one of us roused by a kiss or touch from the other, neither of us willing nor able to let it end without making love one more time.  

The storm has finally passed. Sunshine beams across an azure sky and reflects with blinding brilliance off acres of freshly fallen snow.  I peek out the kitchen window and catch a glimpse of Sam standing near the garage, up to his knees in icy white powder.  

I set a kettle on the stove to boil. 

“Look like we ain’t goin' anywhere any time soon,” Dean says, coming up behind me and circling his arms around me. He moves my hair away from my neck and nips at the exposed skin.

I lean against him and cover his clasped hands with mine. “Can’t say I’m all that disappointed.” 

He hums and kisses my cheek, then moves his hands to rest on the swell of my belly.

“Your old man's gonna teach you how to make the best snowballs, kid. Knock your Uncle Sammy right off his ass.”

I giggle and spin around, draping my arms over Dean’s shoulders. “Big talk coming from the man who got a black eye during last year’s snowball fight.” 

“That was a fluke. She had an unfair advantage.”

"She's less than half your size!” 

“Exactly.”

The door opens and Sam trudges in, shaking and stomping the snow from his legs, laughing as he's nearly knocked over by a whirling, bright pink dervish of weatherproof polyester.

Our daughter runs over to us, cheeks rosy and nose runny from the cold, her apple-green eyes as big as sledding saucers.

“Mommy, Daddy, guess what?! We had a snowball fight and I won!”

“Ho ho! That’s my awesome little girl!” Dean cheers, scooping her up in his arms and swinging her through the air. He rests her on his hip, and they trade an Eskimo kiss. “Let’s go tell your Auntie Eileen and your baby cousin all about how you kicked your Uncle Sammy’s a - uh, butt.”

He sets her down and helps her unlace her boots while she tosses her hat and mittens to the floor. “Yeah, I kicked his ass!” she beams, and the three supposed adults in the room have to bite back their laughter.

“Yep,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Definitely a Winchester. No two ways...”

Once she's out of her boots and winter overall, she runs to Sam, grabs his thumb with her small hand and pulls him through the kitchen. Her tiny footsteps pelt up the stairs, layered with gleeful giggles. Then, with all the vivacity of her five years, she shrieks in triumph, “I beat you again, Uncle Sammy! I win again!”

Dean grins wide, pulls me back into his arms, and catches my lips in a kiss that teems with the same intense passion as the first one he ever gave me. And in seconds I’m melting, into his kiss, into him... into memories of a snowstorm and shag carpeting, the smoke of purple kush and the flicker of oil lamp flames, the pedal steel guitar riff of Lay Lady Lay and Dean’s hip-swaying serenade...

He breaks away, brushes a section of my hair away from my brow and tucks it behind my ear. Then he looks into my eyes with unwavering conviction and repeats the promise he’s made me every day since he took my hand in his - a promise that's as simple as it is complex, selfish yet altruistic,  sometimes dubious but always definite, and anything and everything in between: 

“I love you, YN.”

~Fin

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[alias-b]

Nothing Lasts Forever.

Summary. The town of Derry changes people. Sends them running away. What it draws in is arguably worse. Humans create the hate and evil monsters come to feed off of. Eleanor Baker knew that well at a young age when she stumbled upon a painted figure in the distance. Pennywise never forgot the girl without fear. It’s possible that they haunted each other.

AN: I take no responsibility for this. Me flexing some horror and hopelessness bc I have nothing left to lose here. Wrote this to work through some things and sorta in love with it. TW: Should be obvious. Trauma. CSA mention. Abuse. S*xual references. G*re. S*icidal thoughts.  Death. Pennywise F*cks and it’s canon. Sorry, Mr. King.

Pennywise x OC Eleanor Baker ~ Also on my ao3

   They say she saw It first.

   They say she smelled the circus. Sugary sweet and the rusting of metal.

   They say she heard the bells toll soft. Once. Twice for her.

   They say she felt no fear.

   A branch cracked under pristine shoes, distracting a clown in the midst of hunt. The prey; small and blue eyed, barely five years old, ran into safe arms where their family set up camp for a weekend by the lake. 

   Body twisting around, It saw her last. Six years old. Curious green eyes shimmered even under grey skies. Pigtails. Feet behind her, father was hunched over to change a tire with mother beckoning from the window. Pulled over to the side of the road near a Derry forest. The Baker family. Well known and beloved because they had money.

   “Eleanor. You’ll ruin your new shoes. We can’t be late for your recital. It’s going to rain!” Mother’s voice went under heard. Leaves rustled while the clown made a path to slink toward her. Her lips parted, eyes fixated and unblinking. Yellow eyes faded to baby blue like the pretty jewels her mother wore. Safe.

   They were face to face. Drool dripped to hit her once untouched shoes. Those bejeweled eyes surged from that delicate blue back to a hungry orange, glowing brighter and yet he smelled nothing. 

   She had no scent. No fear. A deep, wide nothing. Vast as the ocean could reach. There was no advancing, no will to bring forth the deadlights. She’d probably think they were pretty stars watching over her. Cinderella wishing for a fairy godmother and a prince to whisk her away. He could only watch her make an utter fool of him. Somehow that charmed.

   “Eleanor, now!” Came the shout from her father. A drop of red emerged from the trees. Shiny and terrible. “Where did you get that?”

   A red balloon skimmed against the breeze.

   “From the clown.” She said, getting into the car. “He gave it to me.”

   “Enough playing around, Nell.” Father pressed her inside. The grip was lost along the tangled string. That spot of blood floated up toward the endless sky. Became a floating star too. She wished to float with it. 

   Eleanor danced her little heart out. Prima Ballerina in the making. Perfection was not everything, it was the only thing. She gazed into the audience beyond the balmy stage lights. Rows and rows of orange eyes. Glowing into her. No fear to be cast. Not for any of them. This world didn’t deserve it.

   She saw It again that same week. When they attended a big family reunion. Picnic and all. And her uncle pulled her into the closet full of coats and old board games that were gathering dust. He called this a game too. A secret game. 

   After he’d decided the game was over, a pang snatched his heart to squeeze. Gushing. Eleanor saw those glowing eyes from the shadows. Thought for a moment it was the old cat who roamed the grounds.

   Her uncle asked for help with no breaths left. Tore her frilly dress clutching at her. Hit the hardwood with a finishing crack. Blood pooled.

   Nell didn’t want it to stain her shoes or Mother would be upset.

   That white face bent down toward her. Spine curving to push out against skin. Utterly inhuman.

   “Can you smell the circus, Nelly?” Painted lips full of clustering teeth rumbled. She blinked. White cheeks threatened to tear open with the grin curling.

   “Yes.”

   Little, pretty bells chimed in the ruffles of his garment as he laughed. Soft and sweeter than any sound in this world.

   "Who are you?"

   "Pennywise. The dancing clown." He caught her looking at the body behind his feet.

   Big eyes full and empty.

   “Oh, don’t worry about him, he won’t float.” The clown paused. “You’re a little wonder, aren’t you?”

   She said nothing to that.

   “Go on, grow and see if the world devours you. Tumble back to the weeds where I'll find you again.” His own curiosity was a growing sickness. This fragile human. Unbreakable. 

   The thing about Pennywise was he never considered himself the villain. He only came to feed when that evil and hatred humans brought this world was potent. Natural order. Clockwork. Wolves feed on sheep. The worlds spun on.

   Predators tore into prey, he wouldn’t apologize for that. He didn’t create the hatred, just fed from it. Didn't stop it either. Little dash of fear did a body good. Gave it a sweeter taste.

   Fear was painfully human. A trait that tore us open to display the soft underbelly because it betrayed us down to the core. Granted us something to overcome. A test of endurance. Truly let our true colors pour fresh and obscene. Beautiful. Even when it overcame.

   Pennywise gave her head a pat, leaned down to whisper into her ear.

   “I see into your blackest heart of hearts, Nelly, deep down you’ll know. You'll always know.”

   The door opened. Tiny footsteps away from the dark and the figure there always watching her. Like the stars above in a black sky.

   “You’ll know.”

   Eleanor walked downstairs. Out into the sunny day full of festivities and family. Asked her aunt for another piece of cake. Frosted with yellow buttercream flowers. They discovered her uncle in that closet at the same time the flies found him too.

   They found the cloth clutched into his meaty, stiff hand and began to ask questions. She didn’t want to talk about the secret games he played when she was in that house. They sent a bolt of thunder rattling into her brain. Unraveled the synapses.

   Her mother burned the cloth. Vowed to never speak of it in hopes she would forget. Children forgot things all the time.

   Nell never forgot. Not for a moment. Not her uncle or her festering relatives who seemed to easily put her in the back of their memories.

   She wanted them to always remember too. If anything, they owed her that much.

   The pictures her mind fleshed out with crayons were not what children should be drawing. Twisted bodies sometimes. Other days, it was those eyes. Molten lava. Mother and father decided this wasn’t something they could deal with. Seeing her looking so still and motionless around the house like a ghost was too much. Knowing they failed their daughter was just too much. A lock clicked.

   They put her in a place that watched over mistakes of all ages from rich families. Paid it well. They told Eleanor it wasn’t her fault and yet, she was the one locked away in a tower for it. She was the one ignored and doped up.

   Ten years and she gave them nothing. Years of homeschooling. Counseling. Medications. Years of sticking her tongue out to swear she’d swallowed her pills. Years of giving them nothing. No laughter or tears. She never hurt a fly and she was the monster.

   Sometimes, it was easier to become the monster they wanted, she supposed.

   Eleanor got out and married the first man who smiled at her. Called her pretty. Just to be away from mother and father. They’d rot in the weeds soon enough. The rest of her family dwindled. Terrible accidents. She vowed to never reproduce to spite them.

   Husband played games too when dinner wasn’t just right or when she dressed just a little against his wishes. Seven miscarriages. Too many broken promises. A car accident pulled his body apart. Left her with some money to return home. 

   Mother and father needed her now, sick and dying in their lavish beds. Life always went on in Derry. Father went still snug in his tomb a month later. Few more weeks and mother’s harsh insults became apologies.

   This girl she ignored was all she had left.

   “Nell, I hope you can forgive us.” Her mother croaked one day.

   “You’re free to do that, mama.” She’d turned and came to sit on the bed.

   “Do what, my dear?”

   “Hope.” Eleanor tucked some brittle hair from mother’s face. Made room for the pillow she pushed into place. Eight minutes and it was over. Twenty seven years and members of her family dropped like flies. She told herself it was a curse. Or fate.

   Bloodlines dying had never been so beautiful. Not built to last forever. Not at all. There was justice in that much.

   Both Eleanor’s parents became ashes in two ornate urns. She drove them out to the Barrens and poured them into the festering waters. Stinking of Derry’s rotten bowels. Wind swept. Picking up green and brown leaves. Wading the waters to give them some appearance of peace.

   Nell didn’t smell the stink of death. She smelt the circus. Hot buttery popcorn and cotton candy. Twang of metal from the old, rusted rides whirling all directions. A child’s laughter echoed out from the giant pipe ahead. Covered in sludge and moss. 

   She followed the lively sounds. Enticed. No long holding to this world. Another one awaited. It always had. Marked with two glowing orange eyes.

   Reminded her of the lights twinkling every Halloween. Jack-o-lanterns you couldn’t blow out before midnight because it was against the rules and would bring you bad luck.

   Through watery rot and dead leaves, Nell went into the pipes. Caught glimmers of light between cracks. Felt her way. Heard the uttering of the seven children she lost beckoning her home.

   Down.

   Down.

   Down.

   Ruined her clothes in the trance. Clawing for more because the world couldn’t hope to deliver. Into a massive nest with a skylight. Candlelight danced. She heard the trill of a music box until the room came alive. Whirled from rust and rot to marble and gold.

   Prettier than her wedding day. A church with decorated pews of red taffeta. White roses hanging from every corner. Petals crying into the cherry wood floors.

   A man smiled at her who wasn’t Husband. Sharp, brooding face. Swept brown locks slicked like Clark Gable. Pink lips curled and crystalline eyes gave a twinkle. A white suit and one red rose at his breast.

   She came to him when he reached. Body heavier because a dress dragged behind her. Full skirt of those same delicate white roses. Tight bodice that twinkled under candlelight. Nell smiled too. Utterly lost and found all at once in this room that smelled like decadent caramel apples. 

   A gloved hand curled into hers.

   “Am I dead?” She asked.

   “Oh, yes. For twenty seven years now. You wandered the Earth. But, you're home now.” That voice. All shivers. Chilling until the candles started to snuff out. “That was not life, Nelly. You existed by a thread.”

   “Nelly.” She mused in her deepest dream of dreams. The hate and the neglect and the sheer evil brought by humans who were supposed love and protect instead tore her soul far asunder.

   The man leaned in near her hair. Inhaled.

   “Nothing. Even still.” He recounted the memories. All those times he tried and failed to devour her. “Little wonder.”

   "Pennywise." She puffed, barely audible.

   “I watched you dance. All those years. You can dance down here too in the dark."

   Nell realized as he brought her out for a romantic spin. She’d been seeking him out all her life. All the decay and twisting vines in her soul. Begging to just cross over and stop this pain. But, he wouldn’t finish it because she had no fear. So she danced until the room began to peel. He wiped his cheek on one sleeve. Peachy makeup smeared the fabric to display that red smile upon white skin. 

   She pushed off him. Watched blood rain and melt the rest of it away. This place. A nest. A stomach. A pile of trash and metal twisted up toward the sky. Gouging. Figures floating around it. Waiting. Sleeping soundly because evil couldn’t touch them anymore. At the very least. They fueled something brand new.

   No cry. No scream. Nell succumbed. Stumbling back into a worn mattress as the clown crawled up toward her at some inhuman speed. Slapped his hands on either side of her head. They just breathed.

   Existed together in one space.

   Sometimes good and bravery didn’t blossom from overcoming fear. Sometimes you still wanted to die because enduring a lifelong ache was not growth. It just hurt. There was power in it, but it fucking ached.

   It burned. Plenty of things in her life burned. The scorn of her parents. Her uncle's games. The rotten nurses tossing her around. Husband's hands indenting skin.

   But, Pennywise didn’t. He just showed up to watch the fires grow hot and breathless into a black sky. The terrible view was still a breathtaking thing. Something shattering to become a supernova. Rebirth.

   Enduring pain was worth it. That sick curiosity that there was something more to life. It was worth it. So, fight. Endure. Ache. Be human while you have the chance in an inhuman world because it needs you.

   Gloves opened her dress. Tore layers of tulle and chiffon. Slashed silk. Hands pressed against his chest. Not pushing or pulling. Just holding. Shifting over thick, stitched cotton. Ruffles swayed. She felt a heart beat so hard there under her palm.

   He was alive. Something brand new. Not of this world.

   “Am I like you?” She begged finally. Years of searching and asking why. He stopped to see her green eyes. Glowered. One blue, one orange.

   “Not yet.” Was the truest answer he could form. Fingers gripped his fabric sleeves. Twisted just to hold onto something tangible for the first time in all her existence. Alive at last in this place. Water droplets echoed distantly. “You cannot last forever. Nothing lasts forever.”

   Except love, she thought. Except desire.

   Pennywise seemed to hear it even still. Felt the truth of it carve out his heart that was still beating powerfully. Profoundly.

   Something flayed her open. Pushed inside. Made her moan deliciously until two gloved fingers touched her mouth. Bodies connecting. Moving together.

   There were hands everywhere. Stroking soft caresses up and down her naked flesh. It felt like a million little pieces of candlelight were swirling up her body. Those same orbs that had been following her around for too many years shined behind his eyes. Resonated. Beautiful.

   She made out parts of him between thumps. Orange hair. Pristine paint. His mouth on her skin. A heart that was pumping vigorously. Low rumbling growls. Nell felt she’d been starved all her life and was finally feeding. Finally letting the ache flood out that she’d held onto for too long. Finally alive. Feeling. Deep down and drawing in it.

   Her voice came to beg for more of him. Hands grasping to touch him back. To delve into this earth and just feel. He touched her everywhere. Lips and neck. Down her breasts. Between spread legs.

   The combined sensations made her cry out for him to never stop. A gloved hand on her jaw brought their eyes together. Hot, wet touch. Boiling. The peak shattered them both. Nell fell to shuddering pieces. Curved up. Moaning and shameless. Weight fell into her body so lips could touch her own. Once. Just once while they were warm.

   Pennywise lifted off fully to see her eyes. Inhaled again and got what he’d sought too. Years and it was finally there.

   Those green eyes glimmered at him. A waft of sweet candied apples bubbled with heat. Fear. Clear as a crystal, dewy morning. It was the most beautiful thing in the world.

   There was finally something found that could be lost. Something she sought out and held and hoped for.

   And the fear of losing it was almost too much to bear.

   One gloved finger caught a tear that trickled out from the corner of her eyes.

   “Please.” She said, unable to find much else. Like she wanted him and nothing else for the rest of these long days. Do it. Just do it. Nell’s hand lifted. Gentle fingers drew lines along his face. "Pennywise. Please."

   It was a soft prayer.

   He lunged down. Sunk teeth into her tender neck. Tore the scream out before she could hope to give it. Nell choked there. Made an odd sound like she was laughing. It bubbled. Claws grew out from those gloves. Shoved forth into her raging heart. 

   A squelch.

   Her lips were still upturned when it was done. Green eyes pointed on him. Peaceful and bloodied. Naked under the moonlight. Dripping rubies.

   He tossed his head back and wailed. Teeth sharp and bared. Bloodied. Lost. A shattering sound that bent time and space apart. Pennywise plucked her up. Climbed high and vast to the very top of the twisting pile. Watched the dead children float like little falling stars. Something to make wishes upon. Peaceful for only a second in this life.

   He placed her there in a sheer drape. Closed her eyes. Let the deadlights swelter above them. Spinning all directions. 

   A scar thickened.

   Three days passed. The deadlights danced high and wide. Fluttering like a swarm of butterflies. The world spun on a new axis. Pennywise sat below upon his stage. Curved over in wait. Marble statue. 

   A low rumble like a purr erupted. Dainty feet came to him with a newfound grace. Little dancer. Deadly ballerina all porcelain and blushed. Blood red shoes made soft taps across the stage.

   A white hand touched his shoulder. His little wonder. Bells tolled distantly three times.

   “Can you smell the circus?” Her voice poured white hot. Purring louder so he'd feel it vibrate his own chest.

   Lips curled wide. Split. Pennywise rose to see her in the light. Perfection. Those green eyes shimmering like emeralds. Haunted. Totally alive and willing.

   “Yes.” He hissed. Cupping her face to see the angles. Not ruining the permanent brushstrokes that came with her rebirth. “Yes, I do.” A bond struck.

   I do. I promise. We'll float. Always.

   Nell smiled to match him. Totally and irrevocably his equal. A pulse of light drew them together. She granted him a single kiss, tasting candied. A new horror in this world hungry for the evil it would always bring.

   “We were built to last forever.”

[grouptalekindnesssoulstories]

Blissful Cuddles

I was discussing how my idea machine was malfunctioning with Holly, and then I realized, oh my god they were roommates and one bed. The only question was Roceit or Moceit?

Warnings: Swearing (it’s me, it was gonna happen), gay panic, a surprised bear, this is mostly fluff but there may be things I missed.

Summary: Janus Declan Jones really wished he hadn’t agreed to the roommate road trip. 

Words: 1,061

“Dee pleaaaseeee?” Pat begged, employing his famous puppy eyes to get the smallest roommate to agree. DJ really hated how much they worked on him.

“....fine” He mumbled, hiding his blush by ducking his head away from the tall pudgy man. There were cheers from the technically sole owners of the house. The Roy brothers were really big softies but they were so loud to DJ’s sensitive ears. 

“Careful with my brother, he’s fragile” Virgil appeared, smiling at his twin. 

“Only cause you took all the strength and height in the split, my dear fraternal twin” DJ sniped back, glancing to the chair where V’s partner was reading quietly. Logan ignored the other five roommates, instead choosing to look over the details of the trip. 

~~~

That was how DJ ended up in squished between Roman and Patton, the boys who both Logan and Virgil were well aware DJ was crushing hard on. They were busy discussing something from a musical, which had flown over DJ’s head from the sheer gay panic he was in. 

“Deeeee. Got any snacks” Remus poked the back of DJ’s head. 

“Ew. Ask your brother or your boyfriend” That was the other thing. Remus had already claimed Patton, and DJ did not want to butt in on that relationship. Sweet Patton balanced Remus out. 

“Already tried. They wouldn’t give me any” Re whined, draping his arms over his longtime friend. 

“Come oooonnnn little brother. You’re such a rotter, we agreed we wouldn’t eat until the rest stop, and switching drivers” Roman batted at the black-nailed man. 

“Actually, we are pulling up now Roman” Logan informed the backseat, saving the others from an epic Roy brother fight. Roman would be taking over driving, while DJ moved into the back, leaving Pat or Remus to claim shotgun so the lovebirds could nap. Remus immediately pounced on the snacks after they returned from the bathroom. 

“I claim shotgun!” Pat immediately called, saving himself from his boyfriend’s mess and preventing any arguments between the brothers. 

“You good back there Dee for the last hour of our drive?” 

“If they made cars for comfort rather than money, I would be more comfortable. However, in the circumstances presented, yes I will be okay” DJ responded automatically.

~~~

It ended up being an extra half an hour after a bad accident on the road. The boys arrived a little stiffer than expected, but otherwise fine. 

“I claim the master bedroom!” Remus immediately shouted, pulling Patton after him to plop their bags on the sheets. 

“That leaves the rest of us in here and here” Logan pointed at each room in turn before continuing. “Any preference? I would like to room with Virgil of course” 

“That one” Roman pointed to the further room after a thick silence. 

“Satisfactory. I’ll start dinner once I have unpacked” Logan called over his shoulder as he carried in his bags. The other duo moved towards the room for the week, not looking at each other. 

“Oh no. There was supposed to be another bed. REMUS” Roman paled as he saw the singular bed in the room. 

“No, no! it’s fine. We can switch who sleeps in the chair and who gets the bed, or I can share V’s bed” DJ quickly interjected. 

“What” Remus shambled over, his hair in disarray. No doubt he had already dove into the bed to either make it into a nest or a blanket fort. Time would tell. 

“We’re missing a bed” Roman pointed to the room.

“Huh. Guess we are. I’ll call the guy we’re renting from, but he doesn’t work weekends, so you’ll have to share for at least the weekend” Remus shrugged, turning back towards his own room.

“I’ll take the chair” DJ immediately volunteered, plopping his bag on it.

“No, no. That wouldn’t be chivalrous of me. I’ll take the chair until the problem is sorted out”

“Chivalry. Not a common word anymore” DJ snorted to hide his panic. 

“Well, my lord, you’ll find I live by it. Though, by now, I would have expected you to realize” Roman bowed. The man bowed. Who the fuck does that?!

‘I’m gonna explore. I’ll see you later!” DJ shouted, running from the room. He threw open the front door, racing barefoot into the woods. 

“Wait! Dee! There’s a bea-” DJ screamed as Roman’s warning came too late. There was indeed a bear. He was sniffing around a campfire from the previous renters. At the commotion, he stood on his back legs from shock. DJ stopped a few yards from him. The two eyed each other silently, before Roman caught up.

“Roman, no. Back away slowly, don’t meet his eyes. And do not turn your back to him” DJ instructed softly, his heart calming at last. He followed his own advice, backing up a step at a time, watching the bear’s feet. After a huff, the bear lowered himself to four legs and went back to searching for food as the men reached the open door. They closed it, gasping in relief. 

“I...forgot you work with..trails. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor...just to calm down” Roman panted, sweeping his hair from his brow.

“Yea. Yea. I just didn’t expect a bear so close to an inhabited location. I’m going to have words with the owner of this place. Either him or his renters are not treating this area with respect!” DJ stood up, storming over to the phone. 

“Whoa-”

“REMUS give me the number of the owner” DJ yelled, tapping his foot impatiently. Roman finally reached him when Remus did. The boys gaped at the side of DJ they rarely saw. He really cared for wildlife, and was working on a degree to work with them. A fact they often forgot./

“Look. He’s going to thro-”

“I don’t care. I will call the people in the area to make sure they know of this. This is not acceptable, and the wildlife rangers here need to be aware that bear could become a problem. So either I start with the owner, or I start with them. Choice is up to you, will you give me the number or not?” 

“Wildcat, can you wait until the morning to speak with the owner? Call the rangers, and wait for them to give you the facts” Roman suggested. The nickname replaced some of the anger with gay panic.

“Alright. But I’m calling them now” DJ turned to the phone and dialed the number.

~~~

Dinner and a movie left all six of the men sleepy. DJ had finally calmed after handing over the problem to the rangers. They would call the owner and figure out the root of the problem while figuring out how to handle the bear itself.

“Come on sweetheart” Roman murmured, scooping up DJ in bridal style and caring him to bed. He was already in his pj’s, so he was just put in bed.

“Nooo. Come sleep with me” Dj made grabby hands and pouted. Roman chuckled softly and obliged. The two cuddled as they drifted to sleep. Roman was the first to wake in the morning. He immediately melted at the adorable sight of Dee sleeping. He pulled the smaller man closer, burying his face in his messy hair.

“I want to wake up next to you every morning” He breathed, not realizing the extra warmth had woken DJ. 

“Then make a move, coward” In a moment of sleepy boldness Dj piped up. There was some spluttering before the magic words appeared.

“Date me?”

“Yes you big idiot. I’ve had a crush on you since high school when Re brought us over that first time” DJ snuggled closer,smiling blissfully.

“Well, this solves the singular bed situation. No need for a second bed if we love each other”

“Shut up and let me sleep. My anger yesterday drained me”

“Yes sir” 

[dragongirl642]

Sunstreaker/Sideswipe x human!female!reader (bayverse) part 6

Recap:

"Should we run", said Starwave. "Probably" replied his twin and they slowly backed off hands raised, leaving their older brother to face his partner's fury.

Of course they didn't get off that easy,

.

.

.

The Autobots had noticed the new arrivals.

------------------------------------------Recap end------------------------------

I sat on my bed, back on my farm. The familiar colours and smells calming me. This was the last time I would be in this room for a while. Orders had come from higher up...all the newly-licensed members of NEST were to move into the newly appointed base at Diego Garcia. 'What's with calling it a newly appointed base anyway...I've worked there a couple of times before years ago...it's not new.'

The sounds of birds calling in the trees and the low rumbles of the tractors, again calming my turbulent mind. Every time I left, I worried about this place. Not just about whether all the work would get done, but whether the systems would work. We've had a couple of bad twisters hit here in the past. Nothing serious happens when I've been here to clean up or the early warning protocol kicks in; setting the farm to lockdown and all the machines pack themselves away in the barn. We had a system malfunction once in the past, I had to replace everything. 'Ugh, bad memories...at least William helped me (because he was blackmailed?...no because he wanted to help his cousin...well maybe a little bit) and the rest of the unit generously agreed to help too.' A small chuckle left my lips at the memory, 'ah good times'.

I swung my legs and jump off the bed. Turning to close the window, cutting off the sounds from outside, a sigh escaped me. Grabbing my two duffel bags filled with the last of my clothes, toiletries, electronics, etc; I walked out my bedroom, silently closing the door behind me.

I trudged through the house, closing windows and turning off lights; double checking the kitchen appliances, 'you can never be too careful'. Once at the front door, I threw a last longing look back down the hallway. With a huff I stepped outside and locked the door. The soft thump of its closing barely audible in the carpeted space.

"What took you so long?" The sound of Starwave's impatient voice sounding from his alt-mode parked not two feet from my front door. 'Did he just get snarky with me? Out of character much.' I strolled round his passenger side, his side door already open. I deposited both bags in his back seats then climbed in myself.

The seat belt strapping me in tight as we sped off. The burst of speed pushing me back into Starwave's seat. "Starwave, SLOW DOWN!" My panicked screech falling on deaf ears, 'Or audials should I say'. He swerved, tyres screeching and spun to suddenly slow and smoothly stop just beyond the doors of the barn. "I'm only trying to help darling, we were supposed to be at NEST two days ago. On the plus side you're no longer grumbling and stuck in your funk now, are you?" I couldn't deny his logic was sound.

But the effects weren't great. I practically flopped out of his alt-mode. Head spinning I stumbled towards the barn and leaned against the door; which promptly opened, depositing me neatly on the floor. "Ouch" I rubbed my back as I stood up once more. And slowly walked into the darkness of the barn, trying to ignore Starwave's amused chuckles from outside. "Are you alright (y/n)?" he gasped out between giggles. I hmph'ed and turned on the lights. Marching forward to my workbench I began putting everything in boxes and carrying them over to my trailer. Starwave had graciously volunteered to pull the large trailer all the way to the base so I couldn't really tell him off.

About 20 minutes later I had just finished packing all my stuff, 'or rather...anything smaller than me'. Last but not least I had a large exercise bicycle/pedal reactor to load. Unfortunately it was twice my height. Just as I was considering transforming and using my Gaian strength to lift it a cough came from behind, followed by a voice. "May I help you?" I whipped round as my heart jumped. Hand on heart I glared at the tall form of my partner, Starblaze. My glare soon turned to a look of confusion, "I thought you were already at the Diego Garcia base, how come you're here?"

He merely smiled and walked forward to pick up the reactor placing it on my trailer. He then lifted the folding ramp and so the trailer was now an enclosed box on wheels. I took the keys out of my pocket and locked it. I looked up to see Starblaze smiling at me. "Am I not allowed to visit my partner?" but then he slightly averted my eyes, "And I had to check on Starwave" he admitted.

I chuckled at that. 'No wonder'.

I walked over to the huge doors and began pushing on one, laboriously opening it; as Starwave casually opened the other with one hand, just his helm peeking round the door. Sunlight bouncing off him and temporarily blinding me as I walked outside.

Starblaze followed pulling the trailer in his off hand. I couldn't help but laugh.

"HA HA HA HA HA..."

This Oh-so-majestic being, who's very steps make the ground shake...is pulling my trailer like a toddler with his new toy.

'He effing looks like one as well. He's got the pout, walk and everything. XD'

I collapsed gasping to the floor as two very confused cybertronians just stare at me. Starwave looks from me to Starblaze. Then it clicks, an expression of wonder graces his faceplate before he too collapses in a fit of hysteria. Starwave just watches us nonplussed. He rolls his optics and thinks for a moment. Then he looks at himself. I laugh even harder as optics upwards in concentration he adopts the toddler pose again. He looks at me a grin blossoming on his faceplate and laughs as well. Not a moment later his eyes widen and he clamps a servo over his intake. Me and Starwave freeze and just stare.

(Author note: dear readers, if you have watched Transformers Prime...his laugh is like Ratchets laugh in that one episode. You and Starwave's reactions are the same as the kids.)

Not a second later we both burst out laughing again. "I-i-i-it hu-hurts" He gasps out through his giggles while I just cry with the force of my laughter. Starblaze just looks at us exasperatedly for a moment before smiling and leaning against the wall of the barn; watching us practically die with laughter.

--------------Timeskip to after you calm down and get on the road--------------------

Starwave was pulling my trailer attached to the back of his alt-mode and I was riding in Starblaze. The windows were down and I had my arm hanging out his window as we sped down the road.

I watched the horizon, daydreaming...when I felt a little nudge within my heart/head. "Are you alright?" Starblaze's voice echoed within my head as a wave of calm descended on me.

'I'm really starting to like this bond thing, sooooo calming', chuckles followed, reverberating over the bond. I frowned "Hey Starblaze keep out of my private thoughts please." There were more chuckles followed by an "As you wish (y/n)." Silence descends once more before another voice pipes up over the bond, "Hey I can see you, take a left now!" Its Starocean's voice...'But I thought he was at the Diego Garcia base.'

Starblaze took a sharp left down a dirt track to the gates of a brazenly military airbase. 'How did I not notice that?'

We rolled through the gates that opened before us and rounded a corner to see a huge cargo plane sitting contentedly on the runway.

Starblaze and Starwave; Starblaze lets me out and they both transform. I can vaguely hear Starwave stretching and grumbling about how heavy my trailer was...he soon shut up when Starocean came sprinting out the open back of the cargo plane. I watched with a smile on my face as the twins sprinted for each other. At the last minute they both dodged to their right, linked arms and spun around into a hug. I could faintly feel their joy and chatter over my link to Starblaze...and sequential sibling link to the twins.

I walked next to Starblaze towards the plane. Before we even take two steps though both twins come sprinting back.

"Hey (y/n)! How's packing been?" Joyfully Starocean offers me his hand, I step onto it and he lifts me up to cradle me against his chassis in a hug. "I missed you too ocean." I hug back and then he passed me over to Starblaze. ('Ocean' being my nickname for him; for example Starwave is 'Wave' and Starblaze is just 'Blaze', but together Starwave and Starocean are called the 'star twins')

I sit contently on Starblaze's shoulder, watching the star twins argue over who's going to pull my trailer now.

He walks over to the cargo plane and ascends the ramp. I sway slightly as we enter and grip onto one of his shoulder struts for support. A faint humming sounds all around, not the regular plane hum but almost like...'a sparkbeat!'.

I close my eyes and access my bond with Starblaze. I look around and all I can see is spark energy. 'Starblaze...are we?'

He nods and replies, "Yes we are...(y/n) meet Stratosphere."

I exited our link and looked around, "uh...hi."

"Nice to meet you (y/n). I must admit I was surprised when I heard any Gaians still existed, let alone one had formed a partnership with a native of this rock...it's cool to meet you."

Starblaze settled himself down further in and the twins came up the ramp with my trailer. I slid off his shoulder and down his outstretched arm to the floor of Stratospheres hull.

I was curious as to whether anyone would be sat in the cockpit or not. I opened the door to the cockpit and a broad beam spread across my face. I launched myself into the arms of the man stood on the other side of the door. "Epps!"

"Woah there" he chuckled and held me up, "Lennox would kill me if his baby cuz killed herself tackling me." I just laughed and punched him in the arm.

"Takes more than that to kill me Sergeant...word on the street is you're expecting a promotion."

"What street, you live in the middle of nowhere dust-girl."

We both laughed and then Starblaze's voice again sounded in my head.

'(y/n) strap in, we are preparing for take-off''.

I passed on the order to Epps as I strapped into one of the pilot seats. He quickly followed.

We watched the dash light up and felt Stratosphere rise into the air.

"Weird when you're not the one driving, isn't it?" Epps joked. I smiled and joked back, "yep it sure is, but that means I can nap right?"

We both laughed before I reclined my seat, giving a small yawn. Epps smiled at me in a brotherly way, "It sure does (y/n), it sure does."

I was out before he finished his sentence.

------------------Timeskip to Diego Garcia-----------------------

I woke up just as we were landing. The bright sun assaulting my eyes the second I dared open them. I flinched, closing my eyes in reflex. Epps chuckling away beside me doing absolutely nothing productive, besides insulting my pride. I cautiously glare though my eyelashes at him as I slowly adjust. He gets up and strolls out once I can open my eyes, I unclip myself and exit the cockpit after him.

The star twins are sharing the job of pulling my trailer, 'How on earth did they fuse their arms together?' Starocean's left arm and Starwave's right arm have fused together to form one large joint arm, as they walk in step with each other pulling my trailer after them. "It's like an absurd three legged race." I mutter to myself.

Starblaze stood sedately to the side glanced at them before saying, "They are split spark twins and they can fuse to form one being, should they so wish." I just nodded, and sent the equivalent of a nod down our bond just for good measure.

We all exited Stratosphere, Epps jogging ahead eager to get inside. I soon realised why, the second we stepped out into the sun I thought I would melt. Just as I was swishing for shade, Starblaze adjusted his pace to block the sun from falling on me. 'Thank God for robot aliens!' Starblaze suddenly broadcasting a bout of hysterical laughter down our bond.

I swear I leapt three feet in the air before falling promptly on my back.

Nearby laughter snaps me out of contemplating, yet again, the wonders of having someone else in my head at times.

I pick myself up and turn my head to see some bots I hadn't seen before.

They were practically identical, except the silver one had swords on his arms just above his servos and the yellow/gold one had guns.

I looked up at them, slightly embarrassed, but hiding it well. "Hello, are you some of the new recruits?" I politely asked.

"I'm Sideswipe" said the silver one, "and this is my brother Sunstreaker."

"And who might you be?" said bot interjected.

Their bright blue optics studied me intently.

"I'm (y/n) (l/n), cousin to William Lennox and Gaian bond partner to Starblaze."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker both cock their helms at me in surprise, 'quite honestly the fact that they did that at the same time is soo cute!' I made sure that thought was kept out of me and Starblaze's bond.

I was distracted when Sunstreaker spoke up, "So you're the human that saved Jazz...you don't look like much." A self-satisfied grin hovering on his lip-plates as he waited for my reaction. Sideswipe grinned broadly, "Jazz said you faced Megatron...bet you couldn't take on me."

'Oh, these two thought I was just a human and that this would come to nothing huh, I'll show them.'

'(y/n) I would not advise that course of action...unless you would allow me to be your partner in this venture.' I could feel the smirk coming down our bond.

'Oh yes, let's show them.' I exited our conversation and addressed the twins.

"I could definitely take you...both of you in fact." The look of uncertainty suddenly on their faceplates was delicious. "But to make it fair we'll have a doubles sparring match...me and Starblaze versus you two. Just let me unpack and we'll find a suitable arena."

The twins froze momentarily before adopting exaggeratedly casual poses, "Sure, see you soon shortcake" being a final parting jab from Sideswipe before the two transformed and took off for the hangar. Sideswipe being a silver Corvette and Sunstreaker being a gold/yellow Lamborghini.

Starblaze's pedesteps alerting me to the fact that he was turning around.

"(y/n)!" a voice called for behind me. I turned around as well to spot Lennox come jogging up.

We embraced in an awkward hug, considering all the gear he was packing.

"Just back from a mission?"

"Yep...had to come back when I heard you were on your way and...your two days late."

I heard a cacophony of transforming sounds from far behind, Lennox and I watching as Stratosphere transformed into an absolute giant of a bot and limped off. We watched him walk off then turned back to each other.

"So (y/n), I saw you've met some of the new bots? I'd watch out for those twins."

I smiled, "Yep, and I've been challenged to a sparring match, doubles."

Lennox's grin fell. "You're not really going to fight them are you? Sideswipe is the Autobot's fragging combat instructor and his twin is just as skilled. You've fought in your Gaian mode, what, once?!!" But then, after a moments thought, he smirked evilly, "Kick their afts...I'll set the arena, I'm betting on you winning this."

I bumped his shoulder as I walked past, "Don't worry cuz, I'll make you proud."

We casually walked to the hangar, Lennox splitting off to go get the event all set, while Starblaze strolled up to the Star twins to tell them the news.

I walked to the barracks, entering the female dorms, I found my usual bunk down the end, and unpacked. 'Starwave was good enough to have my bags dropped off here, aw...such a sweetie!'

I stretched and left the barracks for the mess hall, 'gotta refuel before a fight.'

Grabbing a banana, I strolled out the door for the hangar. Climbing some stairs to the walkways, I took a bite as I leant against a banister.

"How's it hanging dudette?"

I turned with a smile, to come optic-to-eye with Jazz. "I'm good, how are you Jazz?"

He raised a servo and I gave him a fist pump before he started telling me all about the new recruits. Arcee (She is chimerical in the movie – check for more info), Jolt, brothers Skids and Mudflap, 'who are an ice-cream truck?', Stratosphere and the Arielbots (who are all still in Stasis needing repairs, except Stratosphere but he still needs some repairs) and finally the twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.

"So little lady, heard you gonna spar wi'the twins. Here's a little tip for ya'...Go for Sideswipe's legs an' try ta corner him, he overbalances real easy when he can'move and Sunstreaker's vain, ya'hurt his finish he'll get angry and we all know you gotta keep it cool to fight."

I nodded, "Thanks Jazz, I'll keep that in mind."

'Starblaze you getting this?' the response was almost immediate, I'll keep these tips in mind for our battle'. I looked up to see the Star twins wave at me from behind Starblaze.

I waved back, grinning broadly; Jazz giving me a sidelong look.

"Hey you and those Gaian twins, you lot aren't a thing are ya?"

I spluttered, blushing in response to Jazz's question.

"No! They're like the brothers I never had, they're not romantic prospects or whatever..."

Jazz laughed as Starwave called from across the hangar, "Aww (y/n) you hurt our feelings!" Starocean cracking up beside him.

I glared and huffed, puffing my cheeks out in annoyance.

'Jokes', 'Yeah jokes...hey, does this mean we can call you little sister?' Came the less than apologetic replies from the two over my Gaian bond.

Jazz poked me with a digit, "hey didn't mean to pry girl, no hard feelings."

"Of course not Jazz" was my warm reply.

Jazz got ready to leave, "I'll be betting on ya" and with that final parting call he left.

'Man...I've got a lot of people betting on me...I'd better win this...what a sobering thought.'

'Don't worry you'll win.'

'Starblaze what did I say about going in my private thoughts.'

.

.

.

'That was private? You were practically shouting.'

'Oh shush you!'

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Author note: So you've met the twins and a little competition be brewing.  heh heh heh...hope you enjoyed.

[violetwolfraven]

Drive! Fucking Drive!

@nightphans tagging you cause you seemed to like this idea and now I’ve expanded on it so... here goes my attempt at writing a new love interest for Kevin.

...

Kevin usually could put on a smile for his fans, but today was not a good day.

Him and Thea had been fighting (and it was bad, as in, they hadn’t so much as talked on the phone in two weeks bad), Andrew was off the court with a concussion, and the Foxes had a game against the Ravens in two days. While Kevin had come a long way, being away from them for almost 3 years now, he still didn’t exactly enjoy seeing his former teammates, even without Riko among them.

If any of the other Foxes had been there, Kevin probably could have handled it. Hell, he’d take one of the freshmen over facing this alone.

But he hadn’t thought it would be a big deal to go on a coffee run in Columbia alone, and then it was, and that was why he was running from a swarm of rabid fangirls.

Kevin wasn’t as fast as Neil, but he could definitely haul ass if he needed to, which was exactly what he was doing now. His only really clear thought was that he needed to get away and there was a convertible right by the curb and the top was down and it wasn’t going too fast yet so—

Parkour-jumping over the side-door into the passenger seat without asking probably wasn’t the smartest decision, but Kevin was desperate. He’d walked here, and there was no way he’d escape if he was sprinting away from fangirls all the way back to the cousins’ place.

“Fuck!”

The driver slammed on the brakes, probably rightfully. That was a reasonable reaction to having some guy jump into your car.

He didn’t recognize her—hadn’t even gotten a good look at her before he jumped into the car.

The driver was a young woman about his age, with hair dyed bright purple and brown eyes. She looked like she couldn’t decide whether to scream or punch him in the face.

She didn’t look like she had a clue who he was, which was unexpected, but Kevin wasn’t complaining.

“Hi,” he said, “I’m—“

At that point, one of the fangirls screamed and he remembered that he was running.

“Drive! Fucking drive!”

Whoever this woman was, she had quick reflexes. She didn’t question it. She just floored it out of the parking lot and narrowly avoided a car accident as she pulled onto the road.

“I’m sorry!” she shouted over the wind in a tone of voice that said that she absolutely was not sorry, “But who the fresh fuck are you?”

“I’m Kevin Day!”

“Am I supposed to be impressed? Why were those girls chasing you?”

“I’m a very famous Exy player!”

“Exy? You mean that indoor lacrosse ripoff?”

Kevin honestly didn’t think he’d ever been more insulted in his life.

“Exy is not a—“

“Tell it to someone who cares.”

At that point, the woman pulled over on the side of the road, safely a few blocks from the coffee shop.

“Look, I don’t give a flying fuck about any kind of sports,” she said, “I don’t know who you are and I don’t care to. The only reason I didn’t kick you out of my car right away is because you looked scared, and I have trouble turning away from people who look scared. It’s kind of a problem.”

“Seems like a good way to get yourself mixed up in things you can’t handle,” Kevin noted.

“Maybe. What about you? Have a lot of trouble with fangirls, Exy-boy?”

“Sometimes.”

She smirked, “What? Didn’t expect it, being a big-shot athlete?”

Kevin didn’t say that he’d never had a choice in being a big-shot athlete, so he’d never gotten to choose whether he wanted to deal with the fangirls and the press and all the not so fun things that came with the sport he loved.

The woman seemed to notice that the question was a touchy subject. She sighed.

“Look, what I’m trying to say is that you quite obviously need help, and I have nothing better to do this morning. Where do you want me to take you?”

Kevin was kind of in shock, to be honest. He hadn’t gotten much opportunity to meet people besides his team, being kind of anti-social, and he’d thought Renee, Abby, Jeremy Knox, and maybe Matt were the only people this nice on Earth.

Well, this woman didn’t seem nice, exactly. She didn’t seem like she particularly wanted to help him, just that she didn’t want to leave him on the side of the road. Plus, she definitely swore too much to be considered the conventional kind of nice.

Kevin would take it.

“My friends have a house here in Columbia. It’s not far.”

“Cool. Kevin, was it?”

It was so weird to talk to someone who didn’t know his name.

“Yeah. Kevin Day.”

“Well, what’s your friends’ address, Kevin Day?”

Kevin gave her the address.

Apparently, he’d been gone long enough that the cousins and Neil were getting suspicious.

They all seemed relieved, but very confused as he pulled up in a black convertible with a random young woman with purple hair.

“Did you get kidnapped?” Neil asked pointedly.

“If I was going to kidnap him, I wouldn’t have brought him back to you, now would I?”

“I got swarmed by fans and she gave me a ride,” Kevin explained, getting out of the car.

“Oh,” Nicky flashed her a smile, “Well, in that case, thanks for saving our guy!”

“I’d say ‘any time,’ but with any luck, I’ll never have to save Kevin here’s ass again, so... here’s hoping I don’t see any of y’all around.”

They all shot Kevin confused looks, except Andrew, who was just giving the woman a very suspicious once-over.

“She’s not an Exy fan,” he explained, “She didn’t even know who I was. I just jumped in the car and told her to drive.”

“And she actually did it?” Neil asked.

“She can hear you,” the woman said pointedly, “And if you’re all good, here, I’ll be on my way.”

“Then ‘be on your way,’” Andrew said, slightly mocking her South Carolina accent.

The woman glared at him for a second before tossing Kevin the jacket he’d accidentally left in her front seat and getting ready to drive away.

Kevin didn’t know why he did it, but he didn’t miss the annoyed look on Andrew’s face when he called after her.

“Didn’t catch your name!”

“Aria!” she called back, “And you’re welcome, by the way!”

Kevin probably should have thanked her before she was halfway down the street, quickly getting farther and farther away.

“So,” Nicky said with a shit-eating grin, “Aria, huh?”

“Fuck off, Nicky. I met her ten minutes ago.”

“She’s a risk,” Andrew said bluntly.

“None of us are probably ever going to see her again,” Kevin pointed out, “So it doesn’t matter if she is.”

...

Imagine Kevin’s surprise when he did see her again, at that same coffee shop, a couple months later.

It was another bad day, ironically. Tabloids were spinning stories about Thea and one of her teammates, and while Kevin didn’t think she’d cheat on him, he couldn’t deny that she never smiled for him like she did in those photos.

She was flying into town tonight, and she’d said over the phone that they needed to talk.

Basically, Kevin was about 90% sure they were breaking up, and Nicky had suggested going to Columbia to cheer him up last night.

He was sad about it, but not as much as he’d expected. He’d kind of seen it coming. Thea was still too much a Raven for him to ever fully relax with her, and being around him often made her revert to an emotionless mask he never saw when he watched her games on TV.

In the Nest, they’d found solace in seemingly the only other person who wasn’t a complete sociopath—besides Jean, of course—but now, they were in a big, bright world full of people who weren’t sociopaths, and as Neil bluntly pointed out, neither of them were what the other needed anymore.

At first, this morning, Kevin thought Aria was going to ignore him, but she didn’t move when he came over to stand next to her while they waited for their orders.

Andrew, sitting in the chair in the corner, glared at him, but didn’t intervene.

“Do you always come back to places you already got swarmed at?” Aria asked.

Kevin shrugged, “They have good coffee.”

“On that, we can agree. It was Kevin, right?”

“Right.”

Kevin realized he didn’t really know what to talk about. He could usually just talk about Exy and if a teammate didn’t want to talk about that, they’d start a conversation about something else.

Kevin didn’t know how to talk about much else.

“You go to school here in South Carolina?”

Aria shook her head, “Nope. I’m headed back to New York in the fall.”

“What school?”

“Trying to stalk me, Kevin Day?”

“Well, I don’t even know your last name, so I’d have a hard time if I tried.”

She smirked, but didn’t tell him her last name.

“I’m going to the Juilliard School. Performing arts is kind of my thing.”

“Cool.”

Kevin knew absolutely nothing about performing arts, but Aria sounded pretty proud of herself, so the Juilliard School was probably a good one.

“What about you? What school do you go to?”

“Palmetto.”

“And you didn’t go home for the summer?”

Kevin shrugged, “Training camp.”

And he didn’t have a home to go back to, unless Abby’s house counted, but Aria didn’t need to know that.

“Well, I leave in three months,” Aria said, “So probably no use in being friends if there’s a time limit.”

She picked up her coffee when they called it out.

“See you around, Kevin. Or not, if you decide to stop being a dumbass and keep coming to places where fangirls run rampant.”

Kevin was tempted to argue with that, but she actually had a point.

He and Andrew did leave pretty quickly after they got their coffee to avoid anyone recognizing them.

“What did she say to you?” Andrew asked when they were back in the car.

Kevin shrugged, “She told me she’s going back to New York for college in the fall, so there’s no point in being friends. She also said that I should ‘stop being a dumbass’ and coming to places I’ve gotten swarmed by fangirls before.”

“Well, she’s right about you being a dumbass.”

Kevin figured that would be the end of it.

...

It wasn’t. After a few more times running into Aria in that coffee shop, Andrew asked her to come with them to Eden’s the next time they went, and as much as part of Kevin wanted to stop him, he didn’t.

He actually really liked talking to Aria. She kind of reminded him of Thea, with the seemingly unbreakable defiance she always carried, but at the same time, she absolutely was not Thea. Aria joked more, was less concerned with survival in the way of someone who’d never had to fight for theirs, and as she’d made it very clear, didn’t give a flying fuck about Exy.

That was still weird. Having to come up with small talk. Aria didn’t know anything about Exy and Kevin didn’t know anything about performing arts. Instead of those things, they talked about the latest movie, which meant that Kevin actually had to go with Nicky and Aaron to see those movies, or debate their favorite Jane Austen novel, or just bitch about how hot it was. That had never happened with Thea.

It was probably weird to keep comparing his new... well, he didn’t know if he could even call her a friend yet, to his now-ex-girlfriend, but Kevin had thought about it more times than he probably should.

Oh, yeah, him and Thea had agreed to stay in touch, but after a talk, were both more relieved than they should be about breaking up. Neil was right. They weren’t what each other needed. And yeah, Kevin had been sad about it for a bit, but he couldn’t deny that Thea was happier now, with that teammate of hers. He was happy for her, and...

And he knew that Aria was pretty in an unconventional kind of way, and she was witty and funny and he really didn’t know if he was attracted to her or not.

Honestly, even if he wasn’t, Andrew would probably still see her as a threat.

She’d probably never speak to him again after whatever Andrew was going to do this weekend. But Kevin knew none of the other Monsters would ever get off his back until he let them question her.

It was kind of surprising when she gave him a weird look as he started drinking.

“Aren’t you a pro athlete?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Aren’t pro athletes supposed to stick to a diet or something?”

Aaron smirked a little, and Kevin fought the urge to roll his eyes. Nobody except Aaron and Neil actually even remotely followed those. Kevin would, but unfortunately, an athlete’s diet didn’t include copious amounts of booze.

“Don’t actresses have to stick to a diet, too?” Andrew asked.

Aria shrugged, “I don’t have a contract yet. And besides, I pretty much burn whatever I eat with dance, so as long as I keep rehearsing over summer, I probably stay about as fit as you guys.”

Kevin seriously doubted that. He didn’t mean to let it show on his face, but Aria was already shooting him a sour look.

“I would like to see you last an hour at a dance call at my school. Sports are hard, sure, but you guys don’t have to look pretty and stay on-beat while you do it.”

Nicky snorted, “She’s got a point. Can you do, like, flips and stuff?”

“I can do an aerial. One of my best friends is so good at tumbling and stuff that he can do a backflip, but I’m not quite there yet.”

“Cool! Can you sing, too?”

Aria grinned and sang along to the next couple lines of the song that was playing.

“I’m on my guard with the rest of the world, but with you, I know it’s no good. And I should wait patiently, but... I really wish you would.”

She actually sounded pretty good.

“Awesome!” Nicky exclaimed, “You’re a triple threat!”

Aaron gave him a weird look.

“What? I went through a theatre phase in high school.”

“Well, theatre is gay culture,” Aria admitted.

“Interesting,” Andrew said dryly, “How you claimed you knew nothing about Kevin, or even Exy, and yet you know that Nicky’s gay.”

Aria just shrugged, “I still don’t give a flying fuck about Exy, but after y’all invited me out, I got curious. Spent some time on the Internet. Speaking of which, your Wikipedia page didn’t say you were as socially awkward as you seem, Kevin. How the hell did you get a friend as nice as Nicky?”

Neil and Nicky laughed. Aaron hid a smirk.

Kevin glared at them. Obviously, he wasn’t going to tell her about that deal with Andrew, and therefore basically getting adopted by the Minyard/Hemmick family, but he did give Aria a fairly truthful explanation.

“You get pretty close with people when you play on a team. Sometimes, things happen and you can’t help but care about someone.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about any of us, Kevin,” Neil said with a shit-eating grin.

“Fuck off, Neil.”

Aria raised an eyebrow, “Woah. Seems like you’re just as much of a bitch as me.”

“Excuse me?”

Nicky was losing his shit laughing, and even Andrew seemed to find that funny, not that anyone who didn’t know him well would be able to tell.

“So, what else did our Wikipedia pages say?” Neil asked.

Kevin knew for a fact that Neil knew exactly what his said, but he didn’t say that.

“A whole lot of interesting stuff,” Aria admitted, “Your team seems pretty messed up.”

“That kind of sums it up,” Neil agreed.

“With any luck, I’ll have one someday. A Wikipedia page, I mean. Not that any of you will probably read it, but I’m gonna be on Broadway someday, so you can read all about it when I’m... well, probably not as famous as you. Broadway stars are famous to high school theatre nerds and basically no one else.”

“Convenient,” Andrew said, “Wanting to be an actress and meeting someone randomly outside a coffee shop who’s famous enough that his endorsement could probably get you exactly where you want to go.”

Aria seemed to get what he was implying, and she glared at him.

“Trust me, if I’m getting there, I’m getting there on my own. Victory tastes a lot sweeter when you got it fair and square, because then when you say that you’re better than the people you beat, you know for sure that you’re right.”

Kevin knew exactly what she was talking about.

Aria took a sip of her drink, still glaring at Andrew.

“If you wanted to know if I was a threat to your socially-awkward buddy, you could have just sat me down and asked questions like a normal person. If you had asked me if I was planning on using any of you to further my career, I would have told you that as a bisexual woman of color in performing arts, I have worked my ass off to get this far, and I sure as hell am willing to work my ass off even more to get myself the rest of the way. I’m not interested in taking shortcuts. So, if you still think I am, kindly get your coffee at a different time of day, because I’m not seeing you intentionally, but I’m not changing my schedule to avoid you, either. Basically, thanks for the drink, but I can call myself Uber, so don’t worry about driving me home.”

With that, Aria grabbed her bag off the table and started walking away.

To their credit, all the guys had the decency to look at least a little guilty, except Andrew.

Kevin didn’t want to know the look on his friend’s face when he followed her.

He caught up to her on the sidewalk, outside, waiting for her Uber.

“You weren’t kidding.”

“What?”

“You said that helping people who looked scared was a good way to get myself mixed up in things I can’t handle,” Aria said calmly, “And you were right. Don’t think I missed all the messed up headlines your friends have made when I looked up you and your team.”

“And you still came with us tonight?” Kevin asked.

She shrugged, “Seemed like they’d only get more suspicious if I cancelled. I didn’t feel like getting stalked by a team of athletes with half a dozen homicide accusations between them.”

That was actually fair logic. To be honest, Kevin was surprised there were only six accusations between Neil, Renee, and the twins.

“They’ve all seen some messed up shit,” he explained, “They’re just trying to protect me.”

“Yeah, I got that. Just don’t particularly see why I’m worth the fuss. I’m leaving in 2 months and I’m not coming back until Christmas.”

“They’re paranoid.”

“And you’re not? Judging by the articles analyzing you, you don’t go anywhere without at least one of them.”

Kevin had to admit, he usually didn’t. Even after 3 years away from the Ravens, he still didn’t do well alone.

He shrugged, “Sometimes paranoia keeps you alive. You don’t really seem like a threat, though.”

Aria snorted, “Thanks.”

She took a deep breath, seeming to be psyching herself up for something.

She took a piece of paper out of her bag and handed it to him.

It was a business card, with only three lines of information. A phone number, an email, and...

Aria Kennedy. It said her last name. By giving him this, she was making it a lot easier for him—and by extension, Andrew and the others—to look her up.

“You don’t have to use it,” she said simply, “But oddly, I actually enjoy talking to you. You make good conversation, for a jock.”

“You make good conversation for a sarcastic theatre kid,” Kevin admitted, “Aria Kennedy.”

Aria smiled a bit at that, “I’m not watching your games.”

“I’m not watching your plays.”

“Wow. I’m so crushed.”

Kevin laughed at her deadpan tone.

“Look, I’m not stupid,” she said, “I get that there are probably a lot of people out there who want to get with you for the fame and all that. That’s probably part of what your friends are protecting you from. But that’s not me. I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m barely looking for a friend. It just seems like you could use one who hasn’t done a turn at county.”

“Maybe,” Kevin admitted, “I’d like to be friends.”

He probably should figure out if he even wanted to be more than that, but for now... a friend seemed good. Even a friend who was moving to New York for most of the year.

Aria saluted with two fingers as she stepped into her Uber, “See you around, Kevin Day.”

Kevin nodded, “See you around, Aria Kennedy.”

...

((I’m sorry if this is out of character for Kevin. I’ve only read aftg once.))

[bamby0304]

Her Saviours- Ch.30

Series Masterlist

Summary: During an odd case, the Winchesters came across Y/N, a scared young Omega girl who had been used as a lure for a nest of vampires. After rescuing her from the monsters, John and his sons took her in knowing she was in no state to live among ordinary people. But three Alphas and one Omega is a mixture bound for disaster.

Warnings: Explicit language. ABO dynamics. Angst. Violence. Kidnapping. 

Bamby

You sat on the hood of your truck… well… the truck you’d stole two days ago. It was about time to ditch it. Right now, however, you were focused on the flames in front of you. During the month you’d been on your own you’d managed to gank a total of three ghosts by yourself. Sure, it wasn’t like you were wrestling werewolves and wrangling wendigoes, but you felt pretty badass nonetheless.

This particular ghost had been a bitch to get down. He’d clawed you up like a damn cat. You’d barely had the strength to toss your lighter into his grave, which was located in the middle of the woods. His hands had been so tightly wrapped around your throat you knew for a fact there were already bruises forming.

Sam and Dean would kill you if they knew what you were doing.

You’d ditched your phone the second you’d ditched the Winchesters. Of course, you weren’t a complete fool. First you sent out a message to Bobby, letting him know you were safe but venturing off on your own. You knew he’d let the boys know as soon as they started pestering him for information.

Normally you went to him after a fight. Whenever you’d needed a break from either the brothers or John, you always ended up at Bobby’s. They knew that. It’s why they’d been bugging him last time you’d runoff. He might not have given away the details but they would have known, deep down, that you were there with him.

Not this time, though. No, you weren’t taking the risk. Having been gone for so long, Sam and Dean would have actually dragged their asses to Bobby’s to drag you back with them. Part of you kinda wished you could have seen the look on their faces.

With the flames dying down, you sighed and climbed off the truck. Slipping in behind the wheel, you turned her on, backed up, and decided to head south. You’d heard about a guy that had gone missing one state over, and how a kid who was witness to it was insisting he’d been taken by some kind of monster.

It wasn’t much, but it was something. If it turned out to be the kid’s wild imagination then you could always just move on to the next thing. Until then, you had nothing to lose, no reason not to go check this thing out.

…

Rolling through the town, you pulled out your disposable phone to check the time. It wasn’t late or anything, but you doubted the kid’s parents would appreciate you knocking on their door at this hour. So, instead of pursuing the case, you decided to stop by the local bar.

You left the car you’d picked up earlier that day on the side of the road a few blocks away from the bar. Carrying what little you had, you headed for the bar, hoping your suppressants would do their job and keep unwanted attention away from you.

So far you’d had some decent luck being out alone in society. An Omega your age would normally be with a mate or an Alpha or Beta carer. You were young and therefore presumably weak, timid, and… ripe for the taking.

With the way Dean, Sam and John stressed all the time, you had imagined you would’ve been harassed a million times over by now, but you’d barely had to shrug off a dozen Alphas during the month on your own.

You were really starting to believe things weren’t as bad as you’d feared.

The second you walked through the bar’s door all eyes turned to you. Perhaps I should rethink that theory…

Keeping your head held high, you made your way through the small crowd and headed for the first free table you spotted. Dumping your things on one of the free chairs at the table, you sat yourself down and focused on not paying anyone any attention as the gazes slowly drifted away from you.

“You okay, darlin’?”

Looking up, you smiled at the Omega waitress standing in front of you. She was pretty, red hair, a little bit of a tan that almost hid the littering of freckles all over her. She was tall for an Omega, and not as shapely as your kind normally were. She was different, charming looking but not in the typical sweet Omega way. No, she looked like she could handle herself.

Your eyes flickered to her neck, noticing the many scars on display. One sniff of her though and you could sense that those marks were all from the same Alpha. She was practically saturated in his scent.

“My man gets a little paranoid with me workin’ in a place like this. Doesn’t matter that I can kick his ass, he still frets over all these hungry animals.” She cracked a grin.

Lifting your gaze back up to hers, you smiled back at her. “I know a few Alphas like that, too.”

She nodded. “You’re pretty tiny, but I can tell you’d be able to knock a dog down a peg or two if you needed.”

It wasn’t the prettiest of compliments you’d heard but it made the Omega in you waggle with praise. You didn’t tend to feel that capable of yourself so for someone to suggest otherwise made you feel pretty amazing.

“Still, you okay honey? Young thing like you might be able to handle herself but that don’t mean you won’t stay outta trouble.”

“She’s not alone.”

Your back went rigid as all the hairs on your body stood on their end.

Their scents hit you then. You’d been so focussed on the Omega waitress, you hadn’t bothered keeping track of your surroundings. You didn’t think you’d need to with her watching your back in a way. But you could smell them now.

The unmistakable scent of ginger and musk, coffee and rosewood, with gunpowder and molasses.

Shifting in your seat, you looked over your shoulder at the two Alphas.

Dean was glaring at you with that disapproving look he’d perfected after having taken care of Sam as a kid. He was relieved- at least you hoped he was- he just wouldn’t show it until he was certain he’s made you feel guilty enough.

Sam, on the other hand, was filled with relief. Much like his brother, however, you knew he’d show more of his true feelings later. The younger brother was softer until you were alone with him. He could be scary if you didn’t find it so attractive.

“Darlin’, we got a problem here?” the waitress asked, eyeing the brothers. “I can get these two kicked outta here, all you gotta do is say the word.”

Chewing on your lip, you shook your head. “We’re fine. I know them.”

“Okay.” She relaxed a little, but with the way she was still eyeing the brothers, you knew she would stay true to her word and kick them out if you changed your mind. “Just wave me over when you’re ready to order.” Giving your arm a squeeze, she then headed off- not before giving the Winchesters one last warning glare.

Not caring about the death glare he and his brother were getting, Dean stepped up to you as Sam slid into the seat across from you. Your eyes were on the eldest of the two, though, as he continued to look at you with complete disapproval and disappointment.

“You have any idea how worried shitless we’ve been?”

“I can take a guess.” You shrugged, knowing your casual demeanour would only piss him off further.

His jaw clicked as he clenched it. “This isn’t funny, Y/N. You’ve been gone a month. We thought… we had no idea if you were even alive.”

It had been a thought that had plagued your mind with guilt during the time you’d been alone. Your adventure had not come easy. You knew everyone would be worried about you, and being an Omega meant you felt the need to fix that. You wanted to reassure everyone that you were safe and sound, but the only way to do that was to give in and give up.

Things just weren’t so black and white anymore. Hell, you were beginning to realise that they’d never been black and white. You were stuck between three Alphas who couldn’t or wouldn’t give you the commitment you needed. Without that commitment, you had other urges. You wanted to be your own self.

Being with the Winchesters had its restrictions. Dean and John had proven time and time again that you would always be held back. With Dean, it was only to a certain point, but it was still a point you didn’t like.

Leaving gave you space. You didn’t have to watch them flirt with anyone else. Dean was the worst, going from girl to girl. Sam was bound to join in eventually- and you hadn’t forgotten the year and a half he spent with Jess. John wasn’t around to be a problem but you could recall the countless times he’d picked to settle between someone else’s thighs rather than yours. Knowing they all had someone else to turn to, and chose to do so, etched away at your self-esteem and sanity.

You also got to escape the tension that had been growing between you and the brothers. Slapping Dean had been the last straw, but before then there’d been warning signs. Sam and Dean had been fighting and posturing over you for weeks. They’d been competing, both consciously and subconsciously, for a while and it had taken its toll on all of you. Running away meant running away from that.

“I needed a break. To be honest… I think we all did,” you countered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t think I don’t remember what made me run away, Dean. I slapped you.”

His gaze softened then, as his thoughts went back to that day. “You didn’t mean it.”

“In the moment I did,” you argued. “And whether you meant what you said or not, you still said it. We both made mistakes. We were going to keep making them.” You gestured to Sam then. “And you two were going to keep trying to dominate the other. I had to go, for everyone’s sanity.”

“We went crazy looking for you,” Sam spoke. You looked over at him, seeing some of that earlier softness in his eyes fade. “If you were so worried about our sanity you should have said something. Running away only made things worse.”

Again, you shrugged. “Not for me.”

“Sure,” Dean scoffed. “Say that to the bruises on your neck.” Shaking his head, he finally took a seat. “What the hell happened? An Alpha get to you?”

Tugging on your jacket’s collar, you tried to hide the bruises as much as possible. “It was a ghost, actually.”

Dean clenched his jaw again.

“You’ve been hunting?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” you answered honestly and shortly. “And before you get your panties in a twist, they’ve all been salt and burn cases. Ghosts only. I’ve been playing it safe.”

“We can see your fucking neck, Y/N. Is that really what ‘playing it safe’ is supposed to look like?” Dean barked.

The two of you just glared at each other, neither one of you backing down. It was a rare moment where you refused to give in to your Omega instincts and let the Alpha win. Having been on your own, it seemed you’d grown a rebellious streak.

“Okay…” Sam interjected, sensing that the tension between you and hit brother was only going to keep growing until someone snapped. It would inevitably end you you two fighting or fucking- neither of which you could do in public. “The case.” He looked to you. “Are you here because of the missing guy?”

“Yeah.” Nodding, you begrudgingly tore your eyes away from Dean and turned to his brother. “Heard some kid was a witness and insists it was a monster.”

“He was watching horror movies at the time,” Dean noted.

“And local police have now ruled out foul play,” Sam added. “Apparently, there are worse signs of a struggle.” He gestured to the file he’d set on your table. “I’ve done some research.”

A smile tugged onto your lips. “Of course.”

Dean rolled his eyes, staying on track. “Well, they could be right, it could just be a kidnapping. Maybe this isn’t our kind of gig.”

“Yeah, maybe not. Except for this,” Sam pulled out John’s journal from his jacket. “Dad marked the area, Dean.” He turned to a page and showed you and Dean. “Possible hunting grounds of a phantom attacker.”

Taking his father’s journal, Dean frowned at what was written on the page Sam had turned to. “Why would he even do that?”

“Well, he found a lot of local folklore about a dark figure that comes out at night,” Sam noted. “Grabs people, then vanishes. He found this too.” He took the journal back and flipped a couple of pages. “This county has more missing persons per capita than anywhere else in the state.”

As Dean took the book once more, you didn’t care to look at what Sam was showing. You were too distracted by the sight of the leather-bound book. It was the most important object in John’s life. He loved and cared for that thing like it was a living being. You’d been taught to respect and trust it. Seeing it again, after having been gone from the Winchesters for so long, you felt a strong pang of guilt, regret, and loneliness hit you.

“That is weird.” Dean closed the journal and gave it back to his brother, drawing your attention back to reality. “Don’t phantom attackers usually snatch people from their beds? Jenkins was taken from a parking lot.”

“Well, there are all kinds. You know, Spring Heeled Jacks, phantom gassers. They take people anywhere, anytime.” Sam really had done some research.

It was then that you realised you would have been going in blind. If it wasn’t for the Winchesters showing up, you would have dived headfirst into this case and either left thinking it was nothing, or died because you knew very little on phantom attackers.

Maybe this hunting alone thing isn’t something I should be rushing in to...

Sam sighed, putting the journal away. “Look, Dean, I don’t know if this is our kind of gig either.”

Not needing his brother to say anymore, Dean nodded. “Yeah, you’re right, we should ask around more tomorrow.”

“Right.” Sam hesitated a moment before he turned to you. “I saw a motel about five miles back… you’re joining us right.”

“Whoa, whoa, easy.” Dean put his hand between you and his brother, waving until Sam turned to him. “We just got here.”

“You can stay, but… I wanna catch up with Y/N. And we should really get an early start,” Sam suggested as he rose from his seat.

“Catch up?” you asked, looking up at him.

“You’ve been gone for a month. I just wanna know how you’ve been,” he assured you with a kind smile.

You returned the smile and nodded. “Yeah. Okay. I think we can manage a simple chat.”

Looking between the two of you, Dean sighed and got up. “Fine, we’ll head over to the motel.” He shook his head at his brother. “You really know how to have fun, don’t you, Grandma?”

Sam grinned triumphantly, proud and happy that he managed to win the argument- if you could call it that.

Rolling his eyes, Dean look to you then. “I’ll meet you two outside. Gotta take a leak.” Turning to you, he leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Wait for me.”

He was insecure, unsure, uncertain. You’d left without saying goodbye once… you got the feeling he would be worrying for a while.

“Sam and I will wait for you,” you assured him.

Pulling back, he gave you a short nod and then headed for the bathrooms.

“Come on.” Sam reached under the table and grabbed your two bags you’d stashed under there earlier. “I’ll show you where the Impala is.”

You followed him as he led the way, walking out of the bar. Now that you were with Sam, you felt fewer gazes lingering on you as you left. Before, when you’d been alone, the looks had been more intense, hungry. Now, they were mostly curious. You’d forgotten just how different things were when you were with an Alpha. 

“So…” Sam looked over his shoulder at you as you both continued to walk through the parking lot.

“So?”

“How have you been?”

You cracked a knowing smile. “You mean other than all the hunting and stuff?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Are you… are you okay?”

“Sam.” You came to a stop, looking up at him. “I’m tired. I’m stressed. I’m lonely. I don’t know where I stand. I’m an Omega with no direction. I want to have freedom, but to be honest, as great as this month has been, I’m not going to deny that it was lonely. I missed you and Dean like crazy.” You weren’t going to tell him that you cried yourself to sleep most nights. “Just like how I miss John. Maybe even more. I’ve never been on my own like that before. It was scary. But after a while… things got a little better. I really did think me leaving was for the best.”

“It wasn’t.”

He wasn’t arguing or accusing you. Looking up at Sam, you could see that he was just trying to explain his side of the situation.

“We got back to that motel room and you were gone. Dean… Dean went out of his mind. He and Cassie had talked and he’d explained everything to her. He ended things with her. Clean cut. She won’t be calling again unless it’s an emergency. You literally slapped some sense into him.”

At the mention of the slap, you flinched and looked away.

“He doesn’t care about it, you know. It was a shock, but… Dean forgave you the second he saw the guilt on your face. You regretted doing it right away, and hated yourself for it. I knew you were gonna punish yourself… I just didn't realise you were going to punish us in the process.”

“I wasn’t punishing you. Either of you. I just… I was tired of you two fighting over me. I was tired of not knowing where I stood with you. I was tired of having to compete for Dean’s attention. I was tired. I still am tired.”

“Running away isn’t the answer.”

“It sure did feel like one at the time.”

He watched you carefully. “Would you do it again?”

“If I got to go back in time? Yes.” You gave a short nod. “But am I planning on leaving again now? No.”

It was the truth. It didn’t mean you wouldn’t change your mind in the future, but for now you were certain you were going to stick with the brothers. The fact you’d randomly bumped into each other kinda made you think this is where you had to be. Plus, freedom was nice, but you missed the brothers. You were gonna make sure you had more say in your own life, but you missed having the Alpha presence.

A noise had you both tense and turn towards a nearby car. It had sounded like something had been pushed over.

Placing your bags on the ground, Sam pulled out a torch and got to the ground to take a peek under the car. He jumped as a cat hissed at him.

You laughed. “You alright there, Sammy? Did the kitty scare you?”

“Ha ha ha.” Turning off his torch, he got himself back to his feet, rolling his eyes at you.

“Come on, scaredy-cat. Show me where Baby is.” You grabbed one of your bags.

As Sam leaned down to grab the other someone jumped out from the side of the car. You opened your mouth to warn Sam, but before you could speak you felt something hard and heavy hit you in the head.

Falling to the ground with a heavy thump , you landed next to Sam as he was knocked out as well. You looked up at your grinning attackers, then everything went black.

Bamby

[galadrieljones]

As You Were (Chapter 8)

Fandom: The Last of Us | Pairing: Joel x OC | Content: Fix-it | Rating: Mature

Masterpost

When Joel and Ellie take a wrong turn on their journey from Pittsburgh to Wyoming, they find themselves lost in what feels like a time warp: a beautiful place with a dark and dangerous secret, filled with painful reminders of the past. But they aren’t alone. When they meet Cici and Noah, a mother and son fighting tirelessly for survival, things change. For those with little hope to spare, family is what you make it.

This is an AU, starting after the events of the Summer chapter in the first game, and extending into the timeline of the second.

*cw: canon-typical violence, blood

Chapter 8: La Crosse (Pt. 2) / The Lapp Farm (Pt. 2)

"Jury's still out. But, man. You can't deny that view."

As Joel and Noah worked their way through the city, nothing much changed, at first. The buildings were empty. Many were boarded up, but not all of them. Little streams and creeks seemed to have broken through the bluffs, coming in off the La Crosse River and now flowed in skinny little ribbons in the empty lots and fields. Looking upon them was paradoxical, for the water was enticing in its visual clarity, but both Joel and Noah knew the truth. There was not much wildlife, and this brought into the world a worrisome quiet beyond the sound of the wind in the trees. The sun came down even still and brought color to the parking lots, all of them overgrown with tall grasses and ponds. The cordyceps in the water did not seem to affect the flora. It was a pretty place, Joel thought, despite its indifference toward human life.

As they crossed the city, Joel could tell they were getting closer to pure, raw nature, as the greenery thickened, and the buildings and houses became increasingly sunken by floods and overtaken by trees and their massive root systems. He knew from the map that the campus was more or less nestled within a great many bluffs, which rose up like grassy table tops, and the Mississippi was less than two miles to the west. Little purple flowers grew everywhere, and they started seeing mushrooms, too, growing on some of the blackened moldy walls of fallen structures, and so Joel and Noah did not get too close.

They just kept following the signs for the Circle of the Holy Signal, and headed straight toward Centennial Hall at the central campus. At times, Joel thought that perhaps he was being watched, through the windows in the residential neighborhoods, but this was hard to put his finger on. Even in the natural wreckage, there were so many houses, small and intact, lined up in rows across many blocks, that he consistently found himself wondering what could be inside. They found a German Shepherd recently dead by what appeared to be a gunshot wound, lying by the side of the road near a middle school. While they had been crouched low, trying to determine exactly how long ago it had been killed, another dog came up with its tail wagging. This one was some sort of lab mix, and it looked lost and starving as it sniffed at their hands excitedly. Joel scrubbed it behind the ears once and then reluctantly bid it to flee. They had nothing for it. This was a sad and desolate place.

After they had walked more than two miles, they started to see actual signs of the campus, which was promising as well as foreboding. School flags that had survived, still flapping off the street lights, and crimson banners for the football team. There were take-out restaurants and bars with their windows bashed in, some of them still advertising discounts for students as well as a UW Credit Union. They walked down Main Street for a while, passing many Lutheran churches, sometimes more than one on a single block. Some of the churches had been co-opted and hung with banners that read Worship Circle, another tell of their mystery cult. Those churches in particular were so overgrown with the mushroom, they looked like beautiful death flowers, and Joel bid them to put on their gas masks just for the time being, as he was worried about spore levels, even in the open air.

At some point, they came upon a school store. It still had mannequins in the window and the doors were locked up with a heavy chain. Joel stopped to look around and Noah leaned against a stop sign to drink some water.

“What’s your take on this place?” he said eventually. "Do you have any like, feelings about it?"

Joel was examining the chain around the door handles. “My take is, this might be a fool’s errand.” He had a small screwdriver and lock pick, given to him by Bill back in Lincoln. “But I have been known to make my fair share of foolish decisions over the years. Anyway, this town seems fairly dead.”

“We can go back,” said Noah. He was holding the water bottle, soaked in sweat from his dark hair to his red Converse. “We saw the church. Maybe there’s nothing else to see. Maybe it’s too dangerous.” He had a kicked look about him, like a puppy. Joel saw him for his age then—old enough to know a lot, but still too young to know much better. He had a lot of confidence and sometimes this could make him seem older, but he was still only seventeen.

“What do you wanna do?” said Joel. He popped the lock on the chain with considerable ingenuity. He was a little proud of himself. "I'm here to help you."

“I wanna keep going,” said Noah. “I wanna know what’s going on.”

“All right then,” said Joel. “Let’s get to Centennial Hall and see what we can find.”

“Okay,” said Noah, like he had been reenergized. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going inside,” said Joel, loosening the chain and letting it drop. It made a loud noise and he then used a piece of rebar to pry open the doors.

“Why?” said Noah.

“Because,” said Joel, letting the rebar clank to the concrete sidewalk. He wiped the sweat from his face and his beard. “There might be something in here I want.”

They went inside. It was surprisingly maintained. It even looked defended, as if somebody had taken up shop in there many years before. There were makeshift blockades in the front of the store and what looked to be a sizable nest in the employee’s lounge. From the looks of the posters on the wall, he guessed it had been college kids.

“It’s just paraphernalia, for the college,” said Noah. He was going through the aisles, looking at the clothes on the racks, the mugs and water bottles. “What would you want in here.”

“A souvenir,” said Joel. He went over to the women’s section. A huge piece of particle board had fallen from the ceiling. He hauled it away.

“For yourself?”

“No,” said Joel.

“For Ellie?”

Joel was scouring a rack of hooded sweatshirts. “She asked me to bring her something, as a trade-in for not letting her come along. Hey, does this look like her size?” He held one of them up, a faded crimson with the words UW - LA CROSSE stamped on front, in a sort of vintage font. He thought it seemed like something she'd wear.

“What size is it?” said Noah.

“Uh, a woman’s extra small.”

“Well, she’s pretty extra small. So, I’d say that’s a good bet.”

Joel gave him a look. “Come here,” he said. “Put this in your backpack.”

“What?” said Noah. “No. You put it in yours.”

“I don’t have room in mine. Your mom packed it with one too many bomb parts and radio frequency enhancement mumbo jumbo, and it’s already digging in my spine.”

“Fine,” said Noah, swiping the sweatshirt. He rolled it up tightly and shoved it in the front pocket. “For Ellie.” Then he zipped it shut and they looked around. He saw something funny, one gray tee-shirt folded neatly in a disorderly stack. He held it up and showed it to Joel. “What about this one, for you?”

It said: UW - La Crosse Dad.

Joel said, “Yeah, that’s real funny.”

“I thought so.”

They were alarmed then, by a loud and inhuman screech, some banging on the walls coming from a locked back room.

“Jesus,” said Joel, picking up his shotgun. Whatever it was, it was angry, but it was trapped. He thought it might have been one of the college kids who'd made a nest here, which saddened him.

“That’s the first one,” said Noah. “In the whole town. What does that mean?”

“It means we’re getting closer to the epicenter of whatever the hell is going on here,” said Joel. “We should keep moving.”

They left the store, left the infected to rot. It was blistering now in the high noon sun as they continued their journey. “What was that thing in the store, do you know?" said Noah, earnest. He had his shotgun in his hands, a heavy pistol stuffed in the back of his jeans. He had killed plenty of Infected in his life, but it was mostly runners.

“Sounded like a clicker,” said Joel. "Based on the looks of things around here, that is most likely what we'll be running into. Whatever happened, it’s been years.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” said Noah. It was a common sentiment for him, but now, something had changed in his demeanor. He seemed desperate.

“What now."

“We lived for so long, on our farm,” said Noah. “It felt safe, growing up there, barely encountering any of this insane bullshit, until just this past year or so. But these people here, in the city, it looks like they went through something horrible, for such a long time. How can that be? How can they all be dead?”

“If I remember properly,” said Joel, “it took the cordyceps some months to take root in the midwest. Once they isolated the big cities, it was a slow trickle to the end, and smaller cities like this, once they got it, there wasn’t much support. They got it bad. Local militias rose up in their various…forms. I ain’t surprised you all managed to survive on your land for as long as you did, given how isolated you are, but I suppose that it was only a matter of time before it got to you, too, one way or another.”

“This is so sad,” said Noah as they looked around at their desolate surroundings. He was shaking his head over and over again like he could not believe it. “My mom was born in La Crosse. Her ancestors came here from Norway in like the 1890s. Look at it now.”

“What about your dad?”

“My dad was born in Madison,” he said. “His grandparents were Spanish immigrants.”

“Was his family farmers, too?”

"Yeah,” said Noah. They were walking along, kicking around in the middle of the road, all cracked up with weeds, listening to the wind. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re from Texas,” he said. “What about your parents?”

“My parents were also from Texas,” said Joel. “My grandparents, too.”

“Where in Texas?”

“A town called Odessa.”

“Have you ever been married?” said Noah.

Joel was looking up at the sky now. There were some carrion birds up there, circling. A bad omen. “What?” he said.

“I asked if you’ve ever been married.”

“Why would you wanna know that?”

“I’m just curious,” said Noah.

Joel sighed and gave in. “Yes, I have been married.”

“When?”

“A long time ago.”

“What happened?” said Noah.

“It didn’t work out.”

“I see,” said Noah, sensing his unease. “What’s your last name?”

“My last name?” said Joel.

“Yeah,” said Noah, innocent. But then he also noticed the birds. Their conversation dropped off a cliff. “Holy shit,” he said. “You see that?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Those are turkey vultures.” He was chewing on a stick, something he’d picked up off the ground. “They nest all over these bluffs.”

“Yeah, well,” said Joel. “Looks like they found something. Come on.”

Meanwhile, at the Lapp farmhouse, Ellie had wandered over to the bottom of the stairs. They were heavy and a dark wood. Everything about the house seemed really sturdy, but it also seemed really old. Things creaked and there were occasional dips in the flooring. “I think she’s upstairs,” she said. She thought she’d heard movement now from the floor above. But she wouldn’t call out Becky’s name, because it seemed like it might not be her place. She was a stranger here.

“Becky?” said Danielle.

"Hang on,” said Cici from the living room. She had redone her pony tail. It was high on her head now and twisted into a bun. “Looks like somebody’s coming to the backdoor.”

“What?” said Danielle. "Who?"

Concerned, Ellie came back into the kitchen space and placed her hand on the loom. Maybe she hadn’t heard anything after all. She glanced toward the stairs and then back to the door. There was a little window in the door, the shape of a semi-circle, and now a girl rushing up the steps, wearing a white dress and a little white kapp. She tried to get in, but it the door locked. She knocked several times, with urgency.

“Danielle?” said the girl. “Danielle, are you here?”

“Hey, is that Becky?” said Ellie.

“Becky,” said Danielle.

She went to the door, opened it quickly. Becky came inside, her small, pink hands on the slope of her pregnant belly. Her hair was very orange, almost striking. When she looked around and Saw Cici, then Ellie, she became alarmed. “Cici?” she said. “What’s going on?”

“Everything’s okay,” said Danielle. “Where’d you go?”

“I woke up, and you were gone. I went outside. I looked everywhere.”

“I found one of the sick in the barn,” said Danielle. She helped Becky to the kitchen table, where the two of them sat down. Becky seemed out of breath. “I went to find Cici and Noah to help.”

“Oh,” she said, relieved. “Goodness. I was so worried.”

“I’m gonna take care of the runner in the barn,” said Cici.

“Runner?” said Becky.

“She means the sick,” said Danielle.

“Oh,” said Becky. “Right. Cici, how is Noah? It has been a long time since I last saw you.”

“Noah’s doing just fine,” said Cici. “Congratulations, by the way. On your blessing.”

“Oh,” said Becky, re-situating in the chair. “Thank you. We are so grateful.”

“This is Ellie,” said Danielle. She came over from the table and held Ellie’s hand. It was unexpected, but Ellie just went with it. Her hand was warm and clammy. The floor creaked where she stood. “What was your last name again, Ellie?”

“My last name?” said Ellie. She hadn’t spoke it in such a long time. She looked down at her hand, inside Danielle's hand. “It’s Williams, I guess. Ellie Williams.”

“Ellie is new to the farm.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Becky, fanning herself with her hand. “But you’re so young. Are you one of the ones from town?”

“No,” said Ellie, growing increasingly unsure of what she should say. “No. I’m here with—well, it’s kind of hard to explain.”

“You needn’t worry,” said Becky, so sweet, but strange. Her hair was like a pyre. Her cheeks, nose, and forehead were violently freckled and her eyes were very blue and misty. Like planets.

“What was that?” said Danielle. She had dropped Ellie’s hand and was now staring up at the ceiling. They all heard it then, the sounds upstairs. It was a loud thud, then some skittering like a giant rodent, and then a door slammed shut. Ellie felt a chill in her bones.

“Holy shit,” she said. She rushed back to the stairs, held onto the railing like a baseball bat, got up on her tip-toes to to see. “I knew I heard something.”

“I got it,” said Cici. “Ellie, stay here.”

“You can’t go by yourself. It’s one of them.”

Cici had drawn her pistol. Danielle was backing away, toward Becky, who sat very straight. They both looked pale, almost shocked, as birds. “It’s inside?” said Danielle. “How’d it get inside? I locked it in the barn. I used the chains.”

“I’m guessing it’s not the same one,” Cici said. “Just stay here, be very quiet. And Ellie, if you insist on coming, you keep behind me. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Lead the way,” said Ellie.

Ellie didn’t have a gun. She’d left it in the truck. Still, she wasn’t scared. She had been through this now, so many times, with Joel. She knew what to do, and each of those fucking things she killed, since Tess, since Henry and Sam—since fucking Riley—she had recently decided: It was going to be vengeance. She wasn’t gonna take it anymore. On their way in from Pittsburg, she and Joel had stopped at a rest stop oasis in Ohio, foraged some food from a huge gas station there on the side of the freeway. She fell asleep, leaning against one of the shelves while Joel gassed up the truck, and she had a nightmare in which she saw Joel just standing in the hotel back in Pittsburg, water up to his knees, a bite mark in his hand. He told her he was going to take his own life and then instructed her calmly upon how to get to Wyoming. Take the I-80, he had said. He said it over and over again. She woke up unnerved. She had been clenching her jaw so that her teeth felt jagged. She never told him about the dream, but it, along with so much else, had changed her.

When she and Cici got upstairs, it was just a simple hallway with three bedrooms. One at the end, and two on each side. Only the door at the end of the hallway was closed. Based on the sounds they were hearing, it was a runner in there, hiding, probably terrified. They went slowly. Ellie could tell that Cici was gonna try to keep things quiet. The walls were painted white and very clean. Ellie gazed upon the quilts which hung there, just like the ones she had seen downstairs. There was something special about them. The colors were plain. Red, white, and blue, and the purity of such reminded her of the American flag. As she stared at the quilt, she got lost as she so often did and failed to realize that, as they were focused on the room at the end of the hall and approaching it in silence, there was another runner, vibrating real quiet in the bedroom to their right.

“Oh my god,” said Ellie.

The thing rushed them. It happened so fast, like a straight line wind, and when it went for Cici, Ellie didn’t think. It was a girl runner and not so big so she whipped it back by the hair and stuck her knife in its throat, five or six times till it died. The blood was everywhere. It was on Ellie’s face, her shirt, her hands. The sound of its death was loud, and as she dropped it to the floor, the other one came through the door, gnashing and alive. Its screams were horrifying. Even as she no longer feared them outright, the Infected were fucking demons. Ellie tripped over the dead one trying to get away, and just as she did, Cici raised her gun and shot the thing in the head, twice, point blank. It went down like a fucking sack of bricks. Ellie was on her ass and out of breath.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she said, shaking her head out like a dog. “Is that all of them?”

“Are you okay?” said Cici. She saw the blood. She hauled Ellie up and started searching her for marks.

“I’m fine,” said Ellie. “Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” said Cici, though she seemed unsettled. “We need to get the hell out of here.”    

“What about Becky and Danielle?”

“They’re coming with us.”

“Cici?” said Danielle from the bottom of the stairs. “Ellie? Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Cici shouted down the stairs. “Just—just don’t come up here yet. It’s nothing you wanna see.”

Danielle said a prayer. She said, “Praise god that you came.”

Ellie tried wiping some of the blood off her face. It had gotten on her clothes, and she felt momentarily embarrassed. “What the fuck are we gonna do with these things?” she said. “We can’t just leave them here.” She looked at the quilt on the wall. It was a bloodied. Ellie was pissed off about this. She hoped they could just make another.

“Go downstairs,” said Cici. “I’ll wrap them in sheets and drag them outside.”

“I’m covered in fucking blood,” said Ellie. “I don’t want to freak them out.”

"They’ll understand,” said Cici. “We’ve been through this sort of thing before. Though the fuckers have never gotten in the house like this.”

“What do we do with the bodies?” said Ellie. “Burn them?”

“Yes,” said Cici. “There’s plenty of fuel. It won’t be too much work.”

She dragged the bodies out one by one. She then went over to the barn by herself while Ellie, Danielle, and Becky stood outside, by the truck, and waited. Cici lured the thing out and blew it to shreds with a pipe bomb. They doused the bodies with gasoline from a canister in the shed by the garden and set them on fire in the pit at the back of the property. Then, they all drove back to the scrapyard, and though they didn’t go inside, Ellie did see rows and rows of school busses, exactly like Noah had said. Cici got out, used a rubber hose to syphon several gas cans full of fuel for the generator, and then together they all drove back to the farm on the other side of the hill where they would be safe behind the electric fence.

Back in La Crosse, Noah and Joel had found the detritus that had been drawing the turkey vultures from the bluffs. It was a clicker, facedown with parts of its neck ripped out. Could've been dogs, or maybe its own kind.

"Centennial Hall," said Noah, once they got there.

"There it is," said Joel.

The building was straight ahead of them. It was tall, red brick, stately in its prime with massive pillars and a clocktower. Of late, it had been devoured whole by vines robust as ankle tendons. The clocktower was plagued by black scorch marks, too, and the grass surrounding was probably waist-high. There were no more signs, no banners or flags. The building seemed deeply haunted, with the wind whistling through its veins. The clouds were big on the horizon. Joel feared a storm.

He was getting that feeling again, too, like they were being watched. "Noah," he said.

But Noah was already headed to the clicker, the dead one, splayed out in the middle of the road. He threw a rock at one of the vultures, which had been picking at its clothes unscrupulously, and the thing hissed back to the skies. Noah crouched down to get a better look. He hadn't seen an actual clicker since the last time he was here, since his dad.

"Noah," said Joel, surveying the quaint and rural atmosphere. Something was not right.

"It's okay," said Noah.

But it wasn't okay. Joel had seen it first, the thing that was set to change them. The clicker wasn't dead. It flopped over onto its back, surprising Noah and sending him off-balance. He stumbled as it screeched its terrible song, and its face, up close, was like a demon. Joel was there before he had the space to react. He pulled the trigger on his shotgun, close enough so that its head seemed to explode off its shoulders. It went down. Joel grabbed Noah by the collar and looked him over good. He said, "Noah. Noah. You okay?"

Noah thought about losing his guts, keeling over in the street. It had been some kind of event, and he had never been that close before. "I'm fine," he said, exhilarated. "I'm okay."

"Thank Jesus."

They decided to ascend the clocktower after that. It was the highest point they could see, and it seemed a safe place for to find their respite, for now. They climbed a bunch of narrow, spiral stairs and then a ladder, and a lot of it was rotted or rusted, but they made it okay. When they got to the top, it was a small space with a window and a circuit breaker, an old empty bottle of booze but that was all. They looked out over the burnt-out college campus, how it had gone to seed and lost its innocence. They saw the clouds, too, gathering in the north, looking like a definite storm now, moving south with some speed, straight for them and for Viroqua thereafter. Leaning heavily with their backs against the wall, they caught their breath, and then Joel took the two-way radio out of his back-pack. He hooked up the repeater, something Noah's dad had rigged up a long time ago to help them extend the range of the frequency.

"We should radio your mom," he said, "before we head inside the hall. I don't know if it'll work. But on the off chance it does, we should let her and Ellie know we're okay."

Noah was in agreement, even as he spoke little. Joel found the channel and commenced his talking in the radio. Sylvia Plath, he said, loud and clear. Sylvia Plath, do you copy? This is Ryan Adams. We are okay. Sylvia Plath. Do you copy?  Do you copy?