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thelastspeecher · 3 years

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Best Revenge AU - Finally, Some Ford Content

Ford has been suspiciously absent from all of the ficlets I’ve posted thus far in this AU, and while I’ve talked a bit about his role, I haven’t gone too in depth. So, here, for everyone craving some Best Revenge AU Ford, I’m here to satisfy that craving. Finally, some Ford content. Enjoy.

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Ford slowly woke up.

Shit. I stayed the night, didn’t I? He sat up. The man he’d slept with the night before was already up and getting dressed.

“Mornin’.”

“Good morning,” Ford said hesitantly, realizing to his horror that he couldn’t remember the man’s name. “Um…”

“I can make ya some breakfast ‘fore I send ya on yer way,” his one-night-stand said. “I’ve got to check in on my sister first; she’s startin’ a new job today. You can find yer way to the kitchen and make yourself some coffee while I’m talkin’ to her.”

“…Okay,” Ford mumbled. The man finished dressing and left the room. Ford hesitated for a moment before dressing as well. He exited the bedroom.

Which way is the kitchen? Ford chewed on the inside of his cheek and turned left. He followed the hallway down to a living room. One corner of the room had a colored rug, baby toys, and a playpen. He said that he lived with his sister, right? Maybe she has a child. Ford wandered into the adjacent kitchen. His jaw dropped. There was someone sitting at the kitchen table. Someone he recognized.

“Holy shit, Stan?!” Ford said. Stan looked up with a frown.

“Hey, keep it down around Junior.” His eyes widened. “Ford?!”

“I- you-” Ford’s gaze landed on the infant in Stan’s arms, greedily drinking from a bottle of milk. “Is- is that your child?”

“Yeah.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. “…Sorta.”

“What do you mean by-” Ford started. He was interrupted by the arrival of his one-night-stand.

“Oh, I see ya met my sister’s boyfriend,” he said. Stan groaned loudly.

“Lute. How dark was the nightclub where you found last night’s lay?”

“Didn’t pick him up at a nightclub. Found him at the library when I dropped off books fer Angie,” Lute said cheerfully.

“Look at his face.”

“Hmm?” Lute looked at Ford. He paled. “…Oh.”

“You managed to hook up with my no-good twin,” Stan said. The infant in his arms began to fuss. “Aw, it’s okay Junior,” Stan cooed. “I know, Uncle Ford is scary, especially his face.” Ford crossed his arms.

“We have the same face, Stanley.”

“Since Lute didn’t realize we were related when he picked you up, I don’t agree,” Stan said tartly. Ford sighed. “You better get going before you make Junior even more upset.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I find out what you’ve been up to and why you’re holding an infant that you said is ‘sort of’ yours,” Ford said firmly. Stan scowled.

“Lute, kick him out, will ya?”

“No.”

“Lute-”

“I think it might be good fer the two of ya to reconnect,” Lute said. “Don’t you think the lil bean would like an uncle from yer side?”

“He won’t know what he’s missing.”

“Okay, fine.” Lute smirked. “How do ya think Angie would want ya to act under this circumstance?” Stan glared at him. “You know full well that Angie would want ya to use this opportunity to reunite with yer twin.”

“…Fine.” Stan adjusted his hold on the infant. “Why didn’t you come to the kitchen with Ford, Lute?”

“I wanted to check in on Angie, but she’s still sleepin’.”

“Yeah. Since she’s starting her new job, I figured I’d feed Junior.” Stan grinned down at the infant. “He can’t be happy he’s getting his breakfast from a bottle instead of a boob.” Lute rolled his eyes.

“Crass, Stanley.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“You catch up with yer twin while I whip up some eggs,” Lute instructed, already opening the fridge. Ford walked over to the table and sat in the chair next to Stan. He peered closely at the infant.

“So…”

“So…” Stan parroted.

“What’s his name?”

“Stanley Junior,” Stan said. He frowned. “Well, he’s not really a Junior, since he’s got his mom’s last name instead of mine. But he’s named after me, so we call him Junior.”

“Ah. And, um, how old is he?”

“Four months.”

“Four months? Are babies supposed to be that small at four months?”

“Doc says he’s definitely smaller than average, but that he can probably catch up pretty quick,” Stan answered. He removed the now empty bottle from Junior’s mouth, then burped him. “He’s a good kid.”

“Is he yours?” Ford asked. Stan set the empty bottle on the table. “You said he ‘sort of’ was.”

“If you were anyone else, I woulda left that part out,” Stan muttered. “I hate your guts, but I’m not used to lying to you.”

“Pardon?”

“Biologically, he’s not mine. He’s my girlfriend’s ex-husband’s. But with how bad things got between Angie and Max, she decided not to tell him about Junior.”

That’s a strange coincidence. Didn’t Max Hillcrest at work recently go through a divorce? What was his wife’s name again?

“I was dating Angie, so I stepped up,” Stan continued with a shrug. “And Angie named her kid after me. I’m the only dad this little bean’s ever known. If things go well, I’ll be the only dad he ever knows.”

“Little bean?”

“That’s what Angie called him while she was pregnant with him. It stuck.” Stan smiled fondly at Junior. “Isn’t that right, bud?” Junior giggled.

“You’re raising another man’s child as your own?” Ford asked, his brain desperately trying to catch up with all he’d been told.

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“I love Angie. I love Junior. Why wouldn’t I?” Stan asked, a hint of a bite to his tone. Junior settled in his arms, smacking his lips happily.

“Fair enough,” Ford said, deciding to back off. Some tension left Stan’s shoulders. “Other than dating pregnant women and taking in their children, what have you been doing since we last spoke?”

“You mean, since Pops kicked me outta the house and you didn’t say anything or use your power to summon me in secret at any point for years,” Stan said flatly. Ford opened and closed his mouth a few times.

“…Yes.” Ford cleared his throat. “When we were younger, I remember you wanting to follow in Mom’s footsteps. I haven’t seen any pyro heroes around here, though.”

“Hold up, what?” Lute asked. The brothers looked over. Lute stared at Stan in shock. “Stanley, you wanted to be a hero when you were a kid?”

“Most supers do. And like Ford said, our mom was a hero. I looked up to her.” Lute was still staring at Stan. Stan sighed. “Obviously I didn’t do that, Gucket.”

“Yer mom is a hero?”

“Retired. What’s with the third degree?”

“You understand why that information is important in our line of work, right?” Lute prompted. “Does Angie know?”

“Duh.”

“Why don’t I?”

“‘Cause I’m not sleeping with you,” Stan snapped. “Even though I’m apparently your type.” Lute turned red.

“Wait.” Ford held up his hands. “Wait. Stanley, am I reading between the lines properly? Are you- are you a villain?”

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not,” Stan said. He met Ford’s eyes. “But whether I am or not, you know better than to snitch.” Footsteps sounded. Stan looked over. An exuberant smile broke across his face. “Look who it is! The hot new professor!” Ford looked as well. A young woman stood in the doorway, wearing athletic shorts and a T-shirt she was practically swimming in.

Presumably, it’s one of Stan’s. The woman smiled at Stan.

“I don’t mind it much when ya say it, but I sure hope no one at work calls me that.”

“If any creepy coworkers do, let me know,” Stan said. “I’ll handle it.” The woman grinned viciously.

“Oh, darlin’, ya know I’m fully capable of handlin’ it myself.” Stan grinned back.

“Good point.” He held up Junior. “Junior, say hi to your mama.”

“Aw, he’s too young to talk yet,” the woman cooed. She walked over to Stan, took Junior from him, and sat at the table. “And I don’t know if his first word ‘ll be ‘hi’.” She began to lift her T-shirt.

“Whoa, hey, uh, Ang, you don’t need to whip your boobs out,” Stan said quickly, glancing at Ford in distress. “I fed him while you were sleeping.”

“Oh.”

“Also, we have a guest.”

“Hmm?” The woman lowered her shirt and looked up. “Oh, my apologies.” She smiled at Ford. “My name is Angie McGucket.” Ford felt himself pale.

McGucket?

“Dr. Angie McGucket,” Stan corrected. Angie chuckled.

“Yes, I have a doctorate,” she said. She cocked her head, her eyes boring into Ford. “I’m guessin’ yer Stan’s no-good twin I’ve heard so much about.”

“I- uh-” Ford stammered, still reeling from hearing his ex’s last name dropped so casually.

“Geez, you make it sound like all I do is talk about Ford,” Stan said, rolling his eyes. “That’s wrong. All I do is talk about you and Junior.” Angie laughed.

Angie and Lute do appear to have the same nose as Fiddleford. How could I have been so blind?

“So, Stanford, what brings ya here?” Angie asked.

“I brought him home last night,” Lute said.

“Hmm, that seems out of character fer ya,” Angie said to Ford. She shrugged. “Just goin’ off the stick-in-the-mud that Stan described to me.”

“Why do you keep insulting me?” Ford asked. “This is the first time we’ve met.”

“Maybe, but I also feel like I know ya pretty well,” Angie replied. She bounced Junior in her arms. “Stan took a while to start tellin’ me ‘bout ya, but once he did, he had a lot to say.” She smiled. “Most of it was negative, sure, but some of it was positive.”

“Angie, shouldn’t ya be gettin’ ready fer work?” Lute asked. Angie groaned. “I’ll make ya some nice breakfast while ya dress ‘n whatnot.”

“Ugh. Fine.” Angie handed Junior back to Stan, kissed his cheek, and left the room. Ford coughed politely.

“I, um, I should probably leave,” he said. Lute looked over.

“Ya don’t want to stay fer breakfast?”

“Your sister isn’t the only one who has a shift starting soon.”

“Shift, huh?” Stan said, raising an eyebrow. “Where’s the big shot genius working?”

“Well, uh…” Ford rubbed the back of his neck. “I have been working on my own personal research, but to pay the bills, I’m currently employed as an executive assistant.” Stan snickered.

“Isn’t ‘executive assistant’ just a fancy word for ‘secretary’?” he asked. Ford flushed. “You better get going, then. Whatever doctor’s office you work for definitely needs you manning the front desk.”

“Stanley,” Lute scolded. Ford swallowed his retort.

He’s been remarkably civil, let him be childish for one moment.

“…See you later?” he suggested. Stan froze. “I mean, the fact that we were able to talk without fighting is, I think, a good sign that we can bury the hatchet.”

“Ford.” Stan met Ford’s eyes. “Junior was here the whole time. That’s why I didn’t shout or knock your block off.”

“…Oh,” Ford said softly.

“But…” Stan sighed. “I’m not against making up. Just know that the next time you and I are in the same room, it’s open season if Junior’s not there.”

“Fair enough.” Ford managed a smirk. “I think you’d be surprised by how well I can hold my own now.” Stan rolled his eyes. “Goodbye, Stanley.” Ford leaned over to smile at Junior. Junior stared at him with wide eyes. “Goodbye, Junior.” Junior giggled.

“Bye,” Stan grunted. Ford waved goodbye to Lute and walked out of the house. Beeping sounded from his pager. He pulled it out of his pocket with a sigh. The message made him sigh again.

I swear, I’m the only person who can fix the wifi at work. Everyone else either doesn’t know how or isn’t willing to do one of the secretary’s responsibilities. Ford shook his head. He put his pager away and began the long walk to work. A building full of superheroes and not one of them can unplug a router.

#I've also got another ficlet in the works that involves none other than the legendary Ma Pines herself #but here's some Ford stuff for now. hope it scratches that itch.#Best Revenge AU #Stanford Pines #Lute McGucket #Stanley Pines #Angie McGucket #Stangie Family #Stangie #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks #Junior Pines

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moonflowerlesbians · 3 years

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I took a quick break from prompts to write 5000 words of pure angst. I hope you’ll forgive me.

“we let precious time go by”

Read on AO3.

Summary: “The day will come when she returns to an empty flat, or she’ll wake to a cold pillow beside her. If she’s lucky, she’ll be there when the beast pounces. She’ll get to say goodbye.

A piece of her will die that day, she knows.

Dani will die that day.”

Word Count: 5088

They live together thirteen years after Bly. Thirteen wonderful years in a little flat in a small town in Vermont that looks like the spirit of Christmas itself retched on every building in the wintertime. They sell poinsettias and wreaths of holly for the holidays and budding perennials in the warmer months. They find the cheapest grocer, the best plumber, the man who drives into town selling fresh eggs on Wednesdays.

They befriend an elderly woman with three toy poodles, who stops by The Leafling every Sunday morning before mass to purchase flowers for her late husband’s grave, and they try not to think of Hannah. The daycare center three doors down marches the children to the park twice a day, right past the shop, and they try not to think of Rebecca and the Wingraves. They learn the quickest route to their favorite take-away place by heart, and they try not to think of Owen.

It’s hard, though, when your world’s been shattered and everyone else is carrying on as if nothing’s happened. But, thirteen years go by, and they manage. They manage, even as Dani becomes a bit less like herself every day, and Jamie struggles to pretend everything is fine. She pretends not to notice when she finds a sock in the freezer or Dani’s toothbrush between the couch cushions. Pretends not to notice when the lines on Dani’s face grow deeper, etched into her fair skin like stone, and she pretends not to notice when Dani wakes in the dead of night to gaze out the window for hours on end, then returns to bed as if she never left.

She’d brought it up with Dani over dinner. She had grasped Dani’s hand ever so gently, running a soothing thumb over the knuckles. Dani looked as if she hadn’t slept in days. Maybe she hadn’t. A tear tracked down her cheek and dropped onto her lap.

“Please, love, please let me help,” Jamie had begged, and she had never meant anything more in her life, save the night she had accepted Dani’s ring.

Dani had observed her sadly, centuries of knowledge weighing heavy behind her eyes. “You can’t.”

“Please, Dani.” She hadn’t meant to break down, she hadn’t. She had meant to be strong, a steadfast rock in a stormy sea.

“Jamie…” Dani’s voice had been soft, resigned. “It’s her.” She looked down at her clasped hands, as if unwilling to bear witness the damage sure to show on Jamie’s face.

This was meant to be dinner, a question about a frozen sock, an easy explanation. Just a little swamped with the shop’s finances. A natural remedy she had read about in a magazine. Not this. Anything but this.

Jamie had known the day might come, when the memories they’d repressed would reappear to haunt them like Peter fucking Quint. She had hoped with every fibre of herself that the ghastly woman from that terrible night at the lake would slumber for decades yet.

Christ, how long had the Lady been awake? How long had Dani kept this from her?

Dani had seemed to sense her question. She’d become too good at that as of late.

“Only a few months.”

A few months.

Jamie’s lips had tightened into a thin line, and she forced herself to swallow back a sob, eyes closed.

“Dani, why-?”

Why didn’t you tell me?

Why now?

Why this?

Why them?

“You don’t deserve this,” Dani had said, and Jamie’s heart shattered. “It’s my burden, not yours--”

“No. No, no--”

“--I can’t ask you to take this on. I invited her in; I condemned myself, not you.”

“Stop, Dani, stop.”

“Jamie, please…” Dani had sounded so small, so broken. “You have to go.”

“No,” Jamie had refused outright. “Never.”

“Then me. I’ll leave.”

“No one is going bloody anywhere.” Jamie had been steely calm, even as her ribcage threatened to break with the effort. “You and I are staying right fucking here. You hear me, Dani? Right here.” She hadn’t been able to hide the crack on the final syllable. Her ring caught the warm glow of the kitchen light.

Jamie took a steadying breath. “When you came home with that wee plant, you know what I thought? I thought, ‘ah, shite, she’s gone and found another lost cause.’” Here, Jamie had given a small smile. “‘And I bloody love her for it.’”

Dani wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Haven’t got a clue how you always see the possibility in everything. No one’s too far gone to save with you around, Poppins. It’s exhausting, really,” Jamie had continued. “I took your ring, and I’ve never regretted it. Not once, yeah? Not once. I knew what I signed up for: lovin’ you, relentless optimism an’ all.” Her laugh had been watery. “So, we’re not goin’ anywhere. It’s us, yeah? Always has been, always will be.”

So Dani had stayed. And Jamie redoubled her efforts to support her.

She runs the errands on the evenings where the dark feels all too familiar and returns to Dani huddled beneath a fleece blanket. She wraps Dani in her arms and soothes the nightmares away with feather-light kisses. She’s there in every way she can be, never pressing, never rushing, and never letting Dani see just how utterly terrified she is.

To tell Dani would be to ruin the careful dynamic they’ve reached. Dani is scattered, rain moving with the wind; Jamie has to be grounded, a stake dug deep into the earth. But the slopes grow muddier the longer the rain pours, and dirt washes away, gone like a rushing stream. Jamie knows she can’t keep this up forever. She’s already lost so much, and her most important person is fading fast, swept up in the rising current.

She loves Dani to the stars and back. Which is why Jamie must bear this load alone. Dani is already carrying the sky on her shoulders, and Jamie cannot burden her with this.

Call her stupid, call her noble. She calls it mercy.

She knows she’s pulling the same shit Dani did not telling her that Her Royal Lakeness was stirring. She knows, and she resents herself for it. She also knows that Dani would look at her with such guilt for causing Jamie strife. Dani would try to mask her hurt to spare her wife, and Jamie’s gut wrenches at the thought. Her brow would crinkle, lips pursed, and Jamie would yearn to kiss the stress from her face.

Jamie is rewarded for her silence. Dani is getting better about vocalizing her nightmares, telling Jamie when the Lady makes an appearance as she slumbers. They embrace beneath the covers and speak between labored breaths, where Dani finally caves and Jamie does her best to hide the way she’s become afraid of the dark. She murmurs reassurances and tells herself they’re for Dani, pressing kisses into her forehead.

Dani sleeps tucked into Jamie’s side as though it’s enough to ward off the ghosts, a formidable wall against things that go bump in the night. She sleeps, and Jamie lies awake. Her defense is slipping. She can’t keep them both afloat.

She can try. She can hold out as long as Dani will have her. She will. She doesn’t know anything else. Jamie swears, she swears on her plants, she swears on her life, she swears to anyone who will listen that she will be there for Dani, even if she can’t be there for herself.

The weeks pass and more socks freeze, more toothbrushes go missing, and Dani drifts. Some days are better than others. Some days, Jamie’s Sisyphean task is easy, and Dani meets her at the top of the mountain with a flirty smile and sunshine on her greedy tongue, with hands that grab at Jamie’s belt and tug her shirt up and over her head. On those days, they feel like themselves.

But, on other days, days when the whole world is overcast and the tide is rising, they shutter the shop and lock the doors to their second-floor flat. They wear matching pajamas, while the television set plays classic cinema. Jamie makes tea; Dani still hasn’t mastered it in a decade, and Jamie doubts she ever will. Their legs tangle in a heap, ankles sliding along calves.

Jamie comes to rest her head on Dani’s sternum, allowing the beat of her heart to remind her that they’re here. Dani is here, breathing steadily and weaving their fingers together like it’s the simplest thing in the world. Like they aren’t living borrowed years. Like Jamie’s mantra of one day at a time doesn’t feel like a splintered crutch beneath her arm, supporting the weight of an impossible situation.

Every day feels like the last, and Jamie hates it. She hates the feeling of inevitability that lurks just out of sight. The beast in the jungle, Dani had said. It prowls between streetlamps and seeks refuge in their walls, skittering away when Jamie shines a torch, only to return the instant she turns her back. The creature is waiting for something Jamie can never see, and it terrifies her. She cannot prevent what she cannot see. All she can do is wait, hopeless, at the mercy of a fucking ghost.

The day will come when she returns to an empty flat, or she’ll wake to a cold pillow beside her. If she’s lucky, she’ll be there when the beast pounces. She’ll get to say goodbye.

A piece of her will die that day, she knows.

Dani will die that day.

And, god, she feels so bloody selfish for thinking of her own fucking self-preservation when the woman she loves might one day disappear from the world, but, Christ, how can she be expected to go on like this? Just waiting for the days to pass until she’s alone again. Again.

She’s lost more people than she can count. Some to time, some to death, some to drink, some to the shelter of a warm embrace Jamie could not provide. Each loss is different, yet each brings about a sting that is painfully familiar. An old bedfellow she’s forced to accommodate. It settles in her bones, nestling into the hollow spaces between her ribs, cold and unwelcome. Once it latches on, it never truly leaves.

The ache is ever-present, a plate of steel, layering and building into a grim suit of armor that clashes and clanks and frightens people away with its noise, and, after a while, she forgets. Forgets what it’s like to be free of those reminders that she wasn’t good enough for people to stay. Wasn’t good enough for her parents, nor her foster parents. Wasn’t good enough for classmates and teachers who deemed her a waste of effort. Wasn’t good enough for women who hid themselves from the world or from their own judgment. Hell, she wasn’t even good enough for the prison system, released early on account of behavior.

She forgets how to breathe without each inhale taking the strength of someone who’s had a scarlet letter branded across her chest her whole life. Forgets how it feels to extend a hand in invitation without her own fear dragging her down, the fear that results from rejected companionship and harsh words. She forgets what it’s like to touch and be touched and to lay yourself bare before another, trusting that you are safe and wanted.

Dani had taken her proffered hand and held it to tender lips. She had glacially pried away nearly three decades of fine steel with the care of a dutiful lover, uncovering the origin of each piece as she went. She had never once flinched away, only nodded with sweet understanding and kissed Jamie a little more fervently that night.

Then, one day, Jamie had found herself the lightest she’d ever been, open and vulnerable beneath Dani’s affectionate gaze. She had breathed, and it had felt like a sigh. The old ache was not gone; it could never truly be banished. But the act of sharing her very soul, and receiving Dani’s in return, had turned bruises into mere memories and fear into excitement.

Her armor had sat, gathering dust in a corner of their life, no longer needed. She had been content to let Dani, or, rather, the security of their relationship, be her protection.

Now, though, with the ground they walk upon growing perilous, Jamie is defenseless. Her own beast hungers, prepared to strike with familiar claws, and Jamie loathes that she is reaching for her old guard. Loathes that she even considers distancing herself. That Dani cannot escape the cruelty of a fate brought on by selflessness, and Jamie is pondering how life will go on without her.

It feels so bloody selfish that it makes Jamie sick to her stomach. It’s only human to fret about the future, but this feels like an especially abominable twist of the knife. And Dani can never know. No, never. Jamie will be strong for her. She needs to be unwavering in her dedication to their love.

She manages, though it feels like standing in the middle of the road, watching a lorry drive toward her at a hundred kilometers an hour and choosing not to move out of the way. Rather, she plants her feet firmly on the asphalt and stares down what will surely splinter every bone in her body if it doesn’t kill her.

For Dani, she tells herself.

Dani, who startles at unseen reflections in their dishes and damn near scares the living daylights out of Jamie. There’s a haunted look in her eye, and, suddenly, Jamie can hear their countdown clock ticking away the seconds without Dani having to say a word. Her chest is heaving as Jamie steps in front of her, inspecting her for signs of physical harm, and blocking the faucet from her line of sight. Dani can’t meet her eye, craning her neck to see the sink.

Her voice is hoarse, ragged. “I saw her.”

No. No, no, no, no. Dreams are one thing. Dreams, Jamie can handle. Bad dreams can be banished with soothing caresses and warm tea, but this? They are both very much awake.

Breathe.

“What did you see?” Jamie seeks confirmation to calm her racing pulse.

Dani’s lip trembles, and she clutches frantically at the countertop. “Her.” It’s little more than a whisper, but the meaning is unmistakable. Dani continues, with painstaking deliberacy. “I keep seeing her.”

Christ. Keep seeing her? The sheer terror in Dani’s tone implies this isn’t the first time the ghost has appeared to her. But it is the first Jamie is hearing of it. No, not this again. Not Dani keeping from her the details of the most horrific secret of their lives.

She can’t stop to process this now. Dani is shaking, and Dani is frightened, and Dani needs her here, in this moment, not dwelling on what this means for the course of their lives.

Jamie turns the tap off and pulls the drain. “We’re gonna be okay. You can’t think the worst.” The words sound hollow, even to her own ears, but she tries, god, does she try to mean them with everything she has.

“Jamie…” Dani’s tone is warning.

Don’t lie to me.

I have to, love, Jamie thinks, I have to, or we’ll both give up, and I’m not ready.

“We could have so many more years together.”

Could.

It’s not technically a lie. ‘Could’ leaves room for uncertainty, the unpredictability of an entity so far beyond the scope of their control that they’d be institutionalized for suggesting such a thing exists. ‘Could’ allows them to pretend they aren’t trapped on a preordained path, walking side by side into inevitable grief. ‘Could’ is hope.

“It’s okay,” Jamie hears herself repeating. Distract. “I’ll do the washing up from now on, yeah? You’re shit at it, anyway.”

It earns her a weak chuckle from Dani, and it’s enough. Jamie holds her close, speaking soft comforts, though her stomach roils and knots. Dani trembles in her arms, and Jamie curls a soothing hand to the back of her head.

It’s going to be okay.

It isn’t.

It isn’t, and, deep down, Jamie knows it isn’t, but she holds onto the falsehood like it’s the only thing keeping her from drowning. She has to believe that there’s hope, that there is a chance for a future for them, because if she doesn’t, she doesn’t know what she’ll do. Her mind screams to prepare for the inevitable worst, but a part of her, that bright, sunshiney part, where she holds her fondest thoughts, tells her to pretend just a while longer.

She does. She does, because she loves Dani too much not to. They’ve been through far too much together for Jamie to withdraw now, when Dani needs her most.

She cannot control who lives and who dies. She said as much to Dani, years ago, in the forest behind the manor. Knowing that everything must come to an end dictates life’s joys. Temporality is the driving force of sanctity. The moments we hold most dear are the ones that have come to an end. They are forever preserved in amber memory, pressed between book pages, and flowing through veins. You are left warm, free to continue and free to leave more life behind in the hollows of lingering remorse.

‘Live in the moment,’ say thousands of song lyrics. If only it were that simple. If only Jamie could simply ignore the consequences and allow herself to just exist with Dani in the life they’ve created. She can’t, though, and it is agonizing.

Instead, she dons the facade of a woman who believes that there is still good in the world, chances for miracles, despite countless experiences to the contrary. In private, she grieves a life she hasn’t yet lost.

Dani sees her shoulders shake only once, the day Jamie returns to a flooded flat and eerie silence and Dani with her face mere centimetres above the water in their overfilled bathtub. The tips of her hair are submerged, and her breath sends ripples across the surface. It’s unclear how long she’s been hunched over the side of the tub, but judging by the pool around her, quite a while. Jamie turns off the tap and draws Dani back onto her heels. Dani lets out a panicked gasp, and her eyes dart around the room before they finally flick to Jamie and back to the water.

“Do you see her?” Dani rasps, returning to her position bent over the rim.

Jamie peers into the tub, too, unsure of what she might find. She does not know whether to be elated or dismayed when only Dani’s heterochromatic reflection stares back at her.

“I only see you,” Jamie says, and it seems to pull Dani from wherever she’s been. The sleeves of her bathrobe are soaked, and she notices the puddle around her knees. She stammers an apology, but Jamie could not care less. Dani sags against Jamie’s firm grip on her upper arm.

Her voice comes subdued, as if each syllable takes monumental effort. “I’m so tired, Jamie.”

Jamie understands. She feels it, too, the toll this has taken on the both of them. The constant glances over her shoulder, always on alert for any sign of danger, living their lives like prey. She cannot hope to equate her exhaustion with Dani’s, but she understands all the same.

Dani continues, using such frightful terms as “fade away,” and it’s all Jamie can do to swallow the lump in her throat and the tightness in her chest. Dani sounds so timid, so lost, and she’s looking to Jamie for answers she hasn’t the faintest notion how to find and the soil is eroding and the current is quickening and it all becomes too much.

“You’re still here,” she says, like that will make everything alright. The wet tile seeps into her trousers, cold and clammy.

“It’s like I see you right in front of me,” Dani says softly, “and I feel you touching me. And, every day, we’re living our lives, and I’m aware of that, and it’s like I don’t feel it all the way.” She readjusts to study the water again. “I’m not even scared of her anymore. I just stare at her, and,” Dani takes a shuddering breath, “it’s getting harder and harder to see me.”

Jamie’s already strained resolve is rent in two. All of the air is sucked out of her lungs at once, and her heart constricts. She cannot help the well of tears that rises behind her eyes and threatens to spill over. She needs to be resilient, needs to set her emotions aside. For Dani.

But Dani is nodding. She’s nodding and crying and saying things like, “Maybe I should just accept that and go.” It’s excruciatingly similar to the conversation they’d had at the dinner table, all those many months ago.

And Jamie breaks. “No. No, no, no.” Her thumb rubs circles into Dani’s wrist. “Not yet.”

You can’t leave me. I’m not ready.

“Jamie…” Dani says in that same, horrid, broken tone, and suddenly, Jamie knows. Their hourglass contains mere grains. They are nearing the end, and it hurts, and the pain is so much worse than she could have ever anticipated.

Dani has all but given up, and Jamie is fucking furious.

Not with Dani. Never with Dani.

Rather, Jamie has a bone to pick with the universe and its sense of righteousness. There’s no such thing as fairness in the world, as has been proven to her time and time again. But this? This is shit, and it’s not fucking fair. Just this once, she’d like to strike a bargain. Allow her to be selfish, just this once. Allow her to remain at Dani’s side until they grow old and grey and their eyes fail and their joints creak. Allow her this one thing, and she will never ask for anything again.

The universe, in all its cruelty, remains silent, and Jamie resents it even more. She resents the set of circumstances that led them to this point, Dani tearful on the bathroom floor. She resents the world that made the woman she loves hurt in unfathomable ways. She resents that the most marvelous woman Jamie has ever met has been reduced to a shell of herself, harboring an invisible intruder.

She resents that all she has to offer is herself, when Dani deserves so much more. It’s all Jamie has, though, and maybe, this time, it will be enough.

“If you can’t feel anything,” she says, voice wavering, “then I’ll feel everything for the both of us.” Dani opens her mouth with quivering lips to speak and is cut off. “But no one is going anywhere. Okay? You’re still here.” A tear escapes, tracing a trail down her cheek.

“What if,” Dani whispers, more afraid than Jamie has ever seen her, “I’m here, sitting next to you. But I’m just really her?”

Jamie chokes down a sob. She exhales. “One day at a time.”

They clean up the water and blow out the candles and eat a quiet meal of pasta and sauce from a jar, holding hands all the while, as if any loss of contact would be to admit defeat. Dani is here, and Jamie is here, and they are together, and when they lay in the dark that night, they do not sleep.

Jamie hovers over Dani, pressing gentle kisses to every bit of skin she can reach. Dani’s eyelids, her knuckles, her wrists. The hollow on the underside of her knee, her clavicle, the sensitive patch just below her ear. Anything to reassure Dani that she can still feel, she is loved, and she is safe. The act is not erotic, nor is it meant to be.

She pours every ounce of passion into every caress, touching Dani as if it was the first time. She endeavors to convey her message, clear as crystal, that Dani is the single most important thing in her life. Their love is all that matters. For this one night, let them forget about ghosts and manors and lost friends and be wholly present in this moment of solemn intimacy.

Jamie commits every kiss to memory, savoring Dani’s smooth skin beneath her lips. The way she sighs and whimpers when Jamie finds a particularly tender spot, the way she relaxes into Jamie’s embrace when they finally settle, a leg thrown haphazardly between Jamie’s thighs, her face pressed just above Jamie’s breast, sending small puffs of air against Jamie’s sleepshirt.

Dani sleeps, and Jamie’s mind wanders to all the words she wishes she could say. She sighs them into the night air, a hand cupping the nape of Dani’s neck.

I love you, she thinks, and I’m going to lose you, and I don’t know what I’m going to do. She inhales the faintly floral scent of Dani’s shampoo. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair that you’re going to go, and I have to go on without you. Think of me, Dani. Think of me and stay because I can’t explain to your mother what’s happened to you. Stay, because I’m not ready for our life to end.

She’s crying, now, and her tears dampen the top of Dani’s head as she tries to remain still.

You’re in pain. I see it, love, and I never, never want you to hurt. You’ve been so damn brave. You’ve fought so hard. For yourself. For us. I will be forever grateful for the time you’ve given me. You are everything I never thought I could have, my love.

Dani stirs against her with a hushed, confused noise. “Jamie? Wha-?”

“Go back to sleep, baby,” Jamie murmurs, her eyes shut tight. Dani nuzzles into her chest, and only when her breathing evens out once more does Jamie release the tension from her limbs.

Rest, sweetheart, you’ve earned it.

Three days go by, and Jamie spends them at Dani’s side. They walk the streets of their little Vermont town, and they greet the old woman with her three toy poodles. They watch the line of children toddle by on their way to the park, shepherded by exasperated adults, and share a smile. They wrap themselves in blankets and bundle on the sofa, Jamie with a book and Dani with a crochet project that Jamie’s been teasing her about finishing. The tea is hot, and the company is good, and Jamie is happy. The rain comes down against their windows, but they are shielded from the deluge, though the soil outside turns to slick mud.

The sun rises on the fourth day, and Jamie blinks awake. The pillow is soft under her head, and she is loath to move. She reaches a tentative hand to Dani’s side of the bed to pull her closer, but she finds the sheets are cold. Jamie’s stomach leaps to her throat. She sits up, peering around their room, listening for any sign that Dani has simply risen early. The clock on the bedside table reads six-thirty-eight in the morning. Beside it, a single sheet of paper folded in half.

Perhaps Dani has run to the coffeehouse to bring back breakfast. Perhaps she has gone for a walk. Perhaps she has done anything except Jamie’s worst fear come to fruition, but what Jamie knows in her soul to be true. She takes a steadying breath as she examines the thing in her hands. With shaking fingers, she unfolds the note.

The script is slanted, a mixture of cursive and print, as if written in a hurry. The ink has smeared in places, where the page appears to have been wet. Dani’s normally neat lettering is scattered.

Jamie,

I can’t risk you.

Not for one more day.

I love you.

Dani

Her heart stops.

The silence is deafening. Her whole world narrows to the thin yellow paper in her hand. Her last piece of the woman she loves.

She knows what has happened. She knows where Dani would go, where Dani has gone, deep in her core. But she has to be certain.

It is her first plane ride without Dani. She spends the six-hour flight clutching the armrest, knuckles white, as she looks straight ahead. The flight attendant has the decency to only appear mildly perplexed by Jamie’s lack of luggage. When she lands, Jamie can only nod at the cabbie’s futile attempts at conversation.

She gazes up at the daunting manor house, its brick overgrown with English ivy. The grounds lay vacant. The path to the lake is unkept, yet she treads it anyway, past the church, past the cemetery, slowing as the water comes into sight.

How badly she wants to be wrong. How badly she wants to return home and find Dani worried out of her beautiful mind.

The water is unseasonably warm, but that does not stop the chill that permeates Jamie’s bones. She swims out as far as she can bear before holding her breath and plunging below the surface. It’s nigh torturous to keep her eyes open, but she needs to see. She needs to be sure.

Everything is blurry through the liquid lens, fuzzy around the edges. Something stands out from the landscape of green and blue. A spot of porcelain and red against a backdrop of emerald.

No.

Jamie shakes her head.

No, please, no.

But it is.

And she screams. She screams out thirteen years of rage and sadness and grief and frustration and love. The sound is muted, but she does not care. Dani is gone, and she is alone and it burns and stings like nothing Jamie has ever felt.

Everything Jamie could give, she gave. It wasn’t enough. Nothing will ever be enough. Nothing will bring Dani back.

She rises to the surface with a cry, paddling to the muddy shoreline and crawling up the bank to collapse in the shallows. Her ring rests heavy on her left hand. A reminder of promises made. Eternity.

Together. They were supposed to stay together.

It’s us. Always has been, always will be. That’s what we said, Poppins.

She gasps, taking in great lungfuls of air that Dani will never breathe again. Her hair hangs limply, plastered to the sides of her face. She shivers, but she cannot move.

She sits in the shallows of the lake at Bly Manor, and she weeps.

Dani is dead.

And Jamie is alone.

25 notes · View notes

noladyme · 4 years

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Skip To My Lou, My Darling - Chapter 2, Bloody Beauty I

The road so far…

A little over a year ago Lulu met, fell for, was saved by – and finally – lost a man like no other she had ever met. Now, in a different city – with a completely different life – she faces new dangers; and a ghost from the past.

Tag List (Let me know if you want to be added) @edonaspanca @wonderlandfandomkingdom

Rated M

Bloody Beauty I

The music was pumping loudly at Buddies. The air was stale with bad perfume and spilled drinks; and my top was too tight. “Lolita!”, Raul called after me. “Your friends are back”. I took a deep breath, and put on my fakest grin; walking towards the two men at the end of the bar. “Hi, boys, what can I get you?”, I asked.

The two men were both already deep into their third beers. They were both wearing flannel shirts over t-shirts – a painful reminder of some good friends I hadn’t seen in a long time. One of them, I’d never see again.

The taller of the men – ironically enough a brunette with shaggy hair – smirked at me. “Well, your number would be a good start”, he jeered. I grimaced apologetically. “Sorry, buddy. We have a strict don’t date the costumer’s policy in this place”. He frowned at me. “Really?”, he asked. “Nope…”, I said. “It’s just me. Now what’ll you have?”. The shorter of the two laughed. “Another pair of cold ones, honey”, he smiled. I walked away. Honey. The word made me cringe.

I walked back towards Raul, who was bending over to grab some ciders from the fridge behind the bar. I patted his firm butt. “Grab me a couple of cold one’s. And make them warm”. He chuckled, and rubbed the spot my hand had hit. “That’s gonna leave a mark, Lulu”, he grinned; and handed me two beers from a crate beside the fridge. “You’ll have to explain that to Justin”. I furrowed my brows. “What happened to Mark?”, I asked. Raul stood up and frowned at me. “His wife found out”. “Ouch…”, I winced. “Sorry”. Raul shrugged. “It’s fine. He always cried during…”. “I don’t want to know!”, I laughed.

I walked back to my admirers, and put the beers down in front of them, taking the empty ones, and the 10-dollar bill they handed me. “Seriously though, Lulu”, the tall one said. “I’d really just like to get to know you. You seem…”. “I’m going now”, I said, and walked away.

A group of sorority girls with very fake id’s, were trying to flirt with Raul to get him to change the playlist. “Sorry ladies, I’m not in charge of it. You’ll have to talk to Lulu over there”, he smiled, and gestured towards me. I rolled my eyes. “Just let them. We’ll never hear the end of it”.

The group of girls squealed in delight. “Ok, what’s the song?”, Raul said; and a busty blonde leaned across the bar to whisper in his ear. He grinned. “Retro… I like it!”. He came over to where I was standing by the music system’s computer. “I can’t believe you let them do that”, he smiled. “You’re gonna hate their song”. “Why?”, I asked. “You’re in to all that classic rock stuff”, he replied.

He clicked around on the computer for a moment; when suddenly a soft guitar began playing out the speakers. I swallowed hard. “Lying in your arms, so close together. Didn't know just what I had. Now I toss and turn, ‘cause I'm without you. How I'm missing you so bad”. I swallowed hard – feeling like someone punched me in the chest. “Yeah, I hate it. I’m gonna step outside for a moment”, I muttered. He put a hand on my shoulder. “Are you ok, Lolita?”, he asked. I nodded. “Yeah…”, I said. “Just need air”.

I took off my apron, and passed the dancing sorority girls; who were singing along – very badly – to the song. “I lie awake. I drive myself crazy, drive myself crazy – thinking of you”. I hadn’t been laying awake lately. I’d been sleeping just fine, without any nightmares where I was killing people; and it was all due to – in part – a man I’d met, fallen for; and lost – all in just three days.

The air outside was chilly and refreshing. A few people where stood around smoking and laughing. It was Friday evening after all, and Denver had enough colleges to fill any bar with students willing to pay for overprized booze. I stood for a while, taking a few deep breaths of the night air, before regaining my senses, and stepping back inside.

Passing a table of frat boys; I felt a hand on my ass. I reached back, and grabbed the thumb of the hand; bending it backwards. “Ow! What the hell, lady?”, the man who’d made unwelcome grasp for my butt yelped. Raul came up next to me, in all his bodybuilding glory. “Get out”, he said menacingly. “Now!”. The guys at the table grumbled, but got up to leave. “I’ll have my dad’s lawyer call you!”, the grabber sneered – his blue eyes ablaze with rage. I smirked. “Go ahead. I don’t have a penny he can take, anyway”.

Raul put an arm around me, and led me back behind the bar. “You know, you pinch my butt all the time”, he muttered. “I thought we had an understanding”, I said. “I’ll stop”. Raul grinned. “Nah, go ahead. Reminds me why I’m in to men”. “Ouch!”, I winced, and slapped his butt hard. “Thanks for teaching me that trick, by the way”.

The evening turned into night, and a makeshift dancefloor was created by the sorority girls – as they began moving around tables. I groaned internally as they once again went up to Raul, to get him to change the music. At least they’d moved on to something a little closer to my taste; as Celebrity Skin began blasting. I poured myself a shot of whiskey, and downed it. “Is it dancing time yet, Lolita?”, Raul yelled at me. “You know it is!”, I grinned, and climbed onto the bar, as my laughing friend began moving bottles around for me to be able to move. “Hey, so glad you could make it. Yeah, now you’ve really made it. Hey, there’s only us left now!”, I screamed along; while dancing around on the bar counter; and sending winks at the screaming girls, who were whooping at me. The blonde was clapping her hands at me, and threw up her arms – almost knocking over her friend’s drink. The friend, who seemed to have perfect skin – I was constantly in awe of how these college girls could afford facials – looked at the blonde in annoyance for a second. “Shots for the ladies, Raul!”, I yelled; and the bartender poured a round of our cheapest booze into some shot glasses, handing them over to the squealing girls. I downed one myself; before stumbling, and nearly falling off the bar.

Raul helped me down, and gave me a hug. “You feeling better?”. “Yeah”, I grinned. “Good, ‘cuz the table in the corner needs drinks”, he smiled, and handed me two cold Buds. I frowned. “No more dancing, girls”, I said to the sorority sisters. “Gotta do my job now”. They frowned right back at me; as I walked away.

In the deepest, darkest corner of the bar – only lit up by a single bulb hanging over it, sat two men, deep in conversation. They were both wearing flannels, and I sighed. “I thought I just got you drinks”, I said; facing the two men – and instantly dropped the beers on the floor.

“You’re dead…”, I breathed, and stepped backwards, away from the broken glass at my feet. Dean Winchester looked at me with wide eyes. “Lou?”, he croaked. I looked at the other man – his brother, Sam. “You told me… Dean was…”. I shook my head, and quickly walked away from the table, and out the back door – into the alleyway behind it.

I heard the door open and close behind me. “Lulu… I’m sorry”, Sam was saying. Dean was standing just behind him. “How long?”. He looked down. “How long, Sam?”, I growled. “9 months”, he admitted. “9 months… ok”. I took a deep breath and walked over to the tall man – smacking him hard across the face. Sam stumbled backwards.

Dean stepped forward. “Lou, it wasn’t…”. I stepped over to him, and gave him the same treatment. “You…! Don’t talk right now”. I turned back to Sam. “We spent a week together, Sam”, I said. Dean frowned, and looked at his brother. “I know”, Sam muttered. “You saw me! I was… Oh my god…”. I began heaving for breath.

Dean ran over to me, and put a hand on my back. “Are you ok?”, he asked. “Don’t touch me”, I snarled, and shrugged him off.

Raul came running outside. He’d taken off his shirt, and was standing in only his tank top – showing off every rip of muscle he had. “Is everything ok here?”, he snarled. I simultaneously nodded and shook my head. “Yes… no”, I said. “You guys should probably leave now”, Raul said, and stepped between me and Dean. Dean visibly tensed up.

I grabbed the bartender’s hand. “It’s fine, Raul”, I muttered. “They’re old… friends”. He looked at me, narrowing his eyes. “Do you usually run away from friends, Lolita?”. Lolita?, Dean mouthed. “Really, I’m ok…”, I said. “Just go… get them fresh beers. They’re paying costumers after all”. “Sure, mami?”, Raul asked. I nodded. Raul gave Dean one last look, and went back inside.

I looked up at the brothers. “You two… go back inside”, I said. “Have your drinks. Then leave. And don’t come back”. “We can leave right now…”, Dean growled. “We can’t…”, Sam muttered. “We have a case”. “Of course you do”, I sighed.

I went back inside; and when I looked over my shoulders, I saw the brothers go back to their table. Behind the bar, Raul gave me a concerned look, as I poured myself another shot, and downed it. I changed the music again; putting on Call Me by Blondie. “How are those drinks coming?”, I asked Raul. “You want me to spit in them?”, he asked. “No… Those two have enough problems as it is”. I grabbed the beers, and walked back to the table.

“Are you trying to tell us something?”, Sam asked. Dean wouldn’t look at me. “What?”, I sneered. “The music?”. Sam tried for a smile. I put the beers down hard on the table. “Enjoy”, I grinned as fake as I could; and walked away.

About an hour later Dean and Sam still hadn’t left – and I wasn’t sure I actually wanted them to leave either. I was well into my sixth shot, and second beer; and Raul was doing his best to keep my spirit up. “So… he kissed you. Then told you he was dying… And now he’s back? What a dick!”. I nodded. “I know, right?”, I yelled over the music. “He’s kind of hot, though”, Raul said. I sighed. “I know”, I admitted. “Did you two…?”. I shook my head. “I think he’s impotent”, I said.

I was getting quite drunk at this point; and when Bad Medicine came on, I once again climbed on to the bar – trying to dance my worries away. I noticed Dean had moved towards the bar to grab a new round for him and Sam; but I did my best to ignore him “Shake it up, just like Bad Medicine!”. I was shaking with the best of them; when I saw the busty sorority blonde sending Dean eyes, and walking over to him. He gave her a warm smile, when she put her hand on his chest. I crouched in front of the pair; and looked down at them. “Sweetie… been there, done that. Got the clap”. The girl winced, and quickly retreated.

Dean looked up at me, narrowing his eyes. “Thanks for that…”, he grunted. “Bon Jovi now?”. “A very underestimated band”, I smiled. “Why are you still here?”. “Paying costumer… cute bartenders”, he smirked. I smiled. “Yeah I know. Raul is hot!”. I winked at my friend, who blew me a kiss and winked back at me. “Boyfriend?”, Dean asked – trying to hide the distaste in his voice. I shrugged. “He’s a boy who’s a friend”. “Huh”, Dean grunted. “Another round, please”, he said, and held out a twenty. I grabbed the note, and stood up. “Coming right up!”, I said, and went to step down from the bar; when I slipped, and fell forwards, right into Deans arms.

“Whoa, Lou. Bit sauced, aren’t we?”. He put me on my feet in front of him, and I tried to frown without giggling. “You’re still cute… but you’re a dick too. It’s not a good combination”. Dean shook his head. “Hey, boyfriend!”, he called towards Raul. “I’m gonna drive the lady home. You got a problem with that?”. “No you’re not”, I tried. “Yeah, I am”, Dean said, and gestured for Sam to come over.

Raul came over to look at me. “You good with that, Lulu?”, he asked. “Absolutely…”, I said; before looking at Dean. “Did I say not?”, I whispered. “Sure”, he muttered. “Ok, then…”.

“I’m gonna need your name, man”, Raul said. “Malcolm Young. You want my social security too?”, Dean grumbled; still trying to keep me upright. I patted his cheek and laughed. “No, you’re not! You’re John Osbourne…”, I said. Raul frowned. Dean sighed. “Alias. We’re FBI”. Sam had come over to join us, and they both held up some badges.

“Hi, Sam!”, I said. “You’re here too!”. Sam stifled a grin. “What did she drink?”, he asked. “Wheee… skey”, I laughed, before looking seriously at Raul. “Going with these men would be a very bad idea, Raul”. “They’re feds”, Raul shrugged. I nodded fiercely. “Yes… fed hunters… feddy hunters”. I sighed deeply. “I love you, Raul”.

My friend looked at Sam, who gave his best impression of a very trustworthy man. “Ok, Lulu. Just call me tomorrow, ok?”. “Yes!”, I smiled. “I shall absolutely use my telephone to dial your number, and communicate with you”. Raul laughed, handed Sam my phone, and went back to serve some patrons.

Dean began leading me towards the door. “Wait… what’s happening?”, I asked. “I’m taking you home”, Dean said. “No, you absolutely are not”, I said; trying to push him off me. “Yes, I am. You can hardly stand”. “Can hardly stand you!”, I said. “Hey. I’m funny. Hi Sam!”. I grinned at the younger brother again. “Hi Lulu. Why don’t you give us your address…”. I shook my head. “Nope. Not happening”, I said. “But come here, and I’ll whisper it”.

Same came up close to me and Dean, and leaned his head down to my mouth to listen. “I drive myself crazy, drive myself crazy – thinking of you!”, I sang loudly into his ear. Dean frowned. “Ok, let’s just go”. In a swift move, he pulled me over his shoulder, so my head was upside down, looking at his backside. “Sir, has anyone ever told you that you have a nice butt?”, I laughed.

Dean carried me towards the door; and Sam opened it for us. I began slapping Deans bottom. “I can walk, Mr. Osbourne!”, I yelled, before pocking at one of his butt cheeks through his jeans. “It’s also very firm”.

I was transported over to the black Impala, and deposited in the backseat. “This car doesn’t have seatbelts. That’s not very safe”. “I won’t tell, if you don’t”, Dean grunted. “Sam get in the back with her, so she doesn’t try to get out”. “I’m being kidnapped!”, I giggled; and leaned against Sam as he entered the car next to me. I poked at his chest. “You’re also very firm. But Dean has nice eyes. I like his eyes. Do you like his eyes?”. Dean got in the driver’s seat, and looked at us in the mirror. “See? Nice eyes…”, I breathed. “Yes, Dean has… nice eyes”, Sam smiled.

I sighed, as Dean started up the car; and drove us down the road. “But he broke my heart… did you know that?”, I said. Deans eyes met mine in the mirror. They were pained.

Then everything went dark.

---

I woke up in a bed that wasn’t mine. My mouth felt like it was full of cotton; and I blinked a few times. The room was brightly colored, in turquoise shades; hurting my eyes.

“Good morning, Coyote Ugly”, a dark voice said. I looked in the direction of the voice. Dean was looking at me, from where he was seated in a chair by a table. “I don’t live here…”, I croaked. “No… We do. For now”. “This is your motel?”, I asked. “Yup”, he said, and came over to me; holding out a glass of some rancid smelling liquid. “Hair of the dog?”. I sat up. “What is that?” Dean shrugged. “Alka-Seltzer; Gatorade; a crushed-up Advil – and some charcoal”. He put the glass on the bedside table. “Trust me. It works. Cured my case of the clap”.

I groaned. “Sorry… I guess I said a lot of things last night; up until I blacked out”. “And after”, Dean muttered. I frowned, and grabbed the glass; holding my nose as I drank it. “That is… vile”, I said. “Sam’s getting coffee. Should take away the taste”, Dean said. I sighed. “Right… Sam”. “Yeah. You remember… the guy with the firm chest?”, Dean smirked. I shook my head. “Please, don’t… I’m already embarrassed enough as it is”.

Dean nodded. “You should call your boyfriend”, he muttered. I looked down. “He’s not my boyfriend”, I said quietly. Dean gave me a cold look. “Whatever. Your manfriend, then”.

Dean sat down, and began rifling through some papers – looking out the corner of his eye at me. “How are you feeling”, he said, before clearing his throat. I looked under the covers. “Well, I’m still wearing pants… so that’s an upside”. “You thought we’d undress you?”, Dean frowned. “I don’t know… there are a lot of things I thought you wouldn’t do…”. “Like what?”, He asked. I shrugged. “Come back from the dead, comes to mind”. Dean clenched his jaw. “About that…”.

The door opened. “I got the coffee. She awake?”. Sam stepped inside, and saw me sitting upright. “Great! And no one’s dead yet. That’s good”. “I wouldn’t kill her”, Dean muttered. “She might kill you… and me”, Sam retorted. I narrowed my eyes at the man. “I’m still considering it”, I muttered. “You could drop me off at my place. I could get Dean’s gun…”. Dean threw up his hands in the air. “So that’s where it is”, he said exasperatedly. “Thanks for telling me, Sammy!”. “You said you didn’t want to… you know”, Sam said quietly, nodding his head in my direction. I got out of the bed. “Didn’t want to what?”, I asked. “Nothing”, Dean grunted.

Sam handed me a donut. “Breakfast?”, his voice broke. I shook my head. “Where’s my purse? I need my phone”. Sam handed me my phone. “Your purse is probably still at the bar”, he muttered. “Sorry. We were in a rush”. “I could tell”, I said; dialing up Raul.

“Hola, Lolita!”, his cheery voice rang through. “Threesome go well?”. “No… nothing like that”, I muttered. “Those guys were smoking… too bad. But you’re alive and well”, he said. “I am”, I said. “I have your purse, mami. Give it to you at the bar later?”. “No, babe. I need it now”.

Dean looked up at me, and frowned.

“Right, your keys. You probably need a shower”, Raul said. “Can I come over?”, I asked. “I… have a guest”, Raul said. “Handsy guy turned out to be showing off for his friends… he apparently prefers beards over breasts”, Raul chuckled. “I’ll be right there, baby”, he called to someone in the back. “That sounds… hot”, I grinned.

Dean cleared his throat, and took a deep sip of his coffee. I met his eyes, and couldn’t help but smile. Sam was seemingly pretending like he wasn’t even in the room.

“Raul, please…”, I pleaded. He sighed. “Ok, come over. Just gotta get rid of the hangaround. 30 minutes?”. “Yes. Thanks. See you then”. I hung up, and looked at Dean.

“Could you… maybe give me a ride? I need to get my purse from Raul”, I asked timidly. He stood up, and grabbed his keys from the table. “Sure…”, he muttered. We went towards the door. “Sammy, keep looking. There has to be something”. “Yeah”, Sam said. “It was good seeing you, Lulu”, he tried. I gave him a crooked smile. “I… wish I could say the same”, I whispered; and followed Dean out the door.

---

Giving Dean the address to Raul’s place; I got in the passenger seat next to him – and he drove us out of the motel parking lot. For a good while, we were quiet. Dean turned on the radio; probably trying to end the silence. “Bon Jovi?”, I muttered, as Livin’ on a Prayer began playing. “Rocks on occasion”, he grunted. “Sure does”, I said.

He gazed over at me for a second. “How have you been?”, he asked. “You really wanna know?”, I croaked. He shrugged. “Sure… You seem like you’re doing ok. But no more teaching?”. I smiled. “Couldn’t face dealing with another nightmare-inducing principal”. He chuckled. “I get that”, he said. “So, no more nightmares?”. Save for the one where you leave me, and never come back, I thought. “No”, I lied. “Just the usual… Naked in the middle of a busy street… clowns… that sort of thing”. He nodded. “You naked isn’t my idea of a nightmare, but ok…”.

“Don’t…”, I whispered. He clenched his jaw. “Sorry”, he said, eyes focused on the road. “I guess I didn’t realize…”. “Yes, you did”, I rasped. “That’s why you left before we could get serious. At least that’s what you said, then”. “Meant it”, he grunted. “Yeah?”, I rasped. “Then why didn’t you let me know? Or have Sam let me know?”. The front seat of the Impala suddenly seemed very broad; like there was a mile between us.

Dean swallowed hard. “That place I came back from…”, he began. “So you did come back? You didn’t just ditch me, and pretend to die?”. He looked angrily at me. “Would you let me finish?”, he growled. “And besides, Sam came to see you when I died, didn’t he? You were together… a week, right?”. I let out a scoffing breath. “You think… that’s why you were so short with him”. Dean didn’t answer. “Dean… Sam and me…”. “I don’t wanna hear it, Lou”, he grunted.

I controlled myself; before glaring at him. “Sam showed up at my apartment, a week after you died”, I said. “I said, I don’t…”, he tried. “You’re going to!”, I snarled. “He was a mess – and so was I. We spent a week taking turns getting drunk and crying. When he slept, I watched over him, and vice versa. I was heartbroken, Dean! And so was he…”. Dean looked at me from the corner of his eye. “But we never… That wasn’t even a… no”. In the end, my voice broke, and a tear betrayed me – slipping down my cheek. I quickly dried it away. “Sorry”, Dean muttered. “We’re here”, I whispered; and gestured at Raul’s building.

Dean pulled over, and I got out of the car. Before I closed the door to the Impala, I looked at him. “I remember what I said last night”, I said. “That you broke my heart… And you did. Twice. First, when you left me like you did – after everything that happened… The second time was when I found out that you’d lied”. He frowned. “When did I lie?”. “When you told me what we had was real”, I croaked. “If it was, you would have let me know”.

I closed the car door; and walked away – rushing to get inside the building. I ran up the stairs; and knocked on Raul’s door. He opened within seconds. “Hey, Lolita!”, he grinned; wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. He looked at my face, and instantly frowned. “What happened?”. “Nothing”, I croaked.

Raul threw his arms around me, and I buried my face in his chest. “Oh, mami. I’m so sorry”, he whispered into my hair. “I’m so, so sorry…”. I held on tightly to him.

“Lulu!”, someone called from behind me. Turned my face away from Raul’s chest, and saw Dean – lips parted, and eyes sad – before his expression turned sour. “Just… wanted to make sure you got in safe. “You should leave, man”, Raul grunted. “Come on, Lolita”, he muttered, and pulled me into the apartment; closing the door behind us.

---

As Raul’s place was closer to Buddie’s than mine was, I kept some spare clothes there, when nights at the bar turned crazy, and I didn’t want to go home. I often stayed on my friend’s couch; especially after some weirdo or other wouldn’t leave me alone at work.

After a spending the day curled up on his couch, the bartender handed me a mug. “Spiked it”, he smiled; as I smelled the luscious cocoa, he’d made me. “Thanks”, I smiled, and drank from the mug. “You feeling better?”, he asked, and stroked my cheek. I sighed. “I’m… much better, yeah”, I said. “Just needed it out of my system”. Raul drew his lips back in a snarl. “I should have kicked his ass”, he said. I shook my head. “It’s fine… But you mind if I take a swing at your punching bag?”. His face lit up. “Go ahead! You know where it is”.

I went into Raul’s bedroom; and walked over to the large red bag hanging in the corner. Fisting my hands, I began punching at it, hard. I lifted my leg, and kicked at it; making it slam against the wall. “Easy, mami”, Raul smiled from the doorway. “I want to be able to get my deposit back one day”. “Sorry”, I chuckled.

Raul put on some protective pads; and stepped over to me. “You got this”, he said. “Remember? Punch, punch, knee”. I struck first at Raul’s face, then his torso – while he covered himself from the blows with the pads – and finally put my knee against the pad he held in front of his groin. “Good. Again. Punch… punch… knee!”, he said. “Yes! Now what do we say to bad ex-boyfriends?”. “Not today!”, I yelled, and laughed. “Good girl”, Raul grinned.

We trained for a few more minutes, before I felt like the alcohol sweat was getting to me, and stepped into the bathroom. I took a shower, and applied some makeup I kept in my purse, looking more or less like I hadn’t spent hours crying while watching TiVo’d RuPaul’s Drag Race with Raul. Stepping out of the bathroom; Raul handed me a fresh set of clothes. “It’s 90’s night. Thought you might want your flannel”.

I frowned when I looked down at the shirt, he’d given me. It was the one Dean had left at my old apartment. “You wear it”, I muttered. Raul shrugged. “Don’t mind if I do!”, he grinned, and put on the flannel.

I grabbed a dark grey tank top for myself, and a pair of tight jeans, ripped at the knees. “You got your combat boots in my closet”, Raul called over his shoulder, as he was doing his hair in the bathroom mirror. “I thought your closet was empty, babe”, I grinned. “For years, mami!”, he said.

I put on my booth, and joined him by the mirror, slapping his butt. “Blue Steel!”, I smiled, and we both contorted our faces into perfect Zoolander looks. “Tonight, we’re getting you laid, mami!”, Raul jeered. I laughed and shook my head. “I’m good; thanks”, I said. Raul grabbed my red lipstick from my purse, and grabbed my chin. “Stand still”, he ordered; and applied the color to my lips. “Perfect”, he said as he finished – pecking my lips chastely. “Let’s get to work”.

---

“What’s in your head? In your head? Zombie…”. The bass was heavy, and most of the patrons were headbanging to the music. I was running back and forth between the many costumers at the bar.

We had extra help that night – a few dropouts that had needed jobs where going between tables, taking orders. “We need a new keg!”, I called over the music. Raul nodded, and went in the back to grab one. “Megan! Table 5!”. I handed the young woman four beers on a tray.

Raul returned to the bar with the keg, and as I moved the nozzle to it; he began a conversation with a person I recognized. I sauntered over, and smirked at the man. “Talk to daddy’s lawyer yet?”. The blue-eyed man smiled embarrassedly. He held up his hand, which was bandaged after my work on it. “Yeah, sorry… That was rude”. “It really was”, I nodded. “But give me a nice tip, and we’ll move past it…”. Raul winked at the man. “He already gave me the…”. “No! Don’t wanna know”, I laughed, and walked away.

I handed another tray of beers to Megan. “Go on sweetie!”, I smiled. “Thanks… Lulu?”, she said. “Yup?”. Her pretty face was smiling brightly at me. “Thanks for convincing the owner to give me this gig. I really appreciate it”. “You’re doing great”, I grinned.

I grabbed a tray of cold ones myself, and walked towards the table who had ordered it. Someone grabbed my arm. I turned around, and stood face to face with one of the girls from the group of sorority sisters the night before; the one with the perfect skin and bright eyes. “Yes?”, I smiled. “I’m sorry. I was just wondering if you’d seen Terri around tonight…”, the girl said. I furrowed my brow. “Terri?”. “The blonde”, the girl said. “You know… the one with the…”. She made a gesture towards her chest. “Ah, yes. Her”, I said. “No, haven’t seen her”. The girl frowned. “She left with some guy last night… haven’t seen her since. She hasn’t called…”. I looked towards the table waiting for their drinks, and sighed. “Look, leave your number with Raul at the bar. If we see her, we’ll call, ok?”. The girl nodded, and walked off. I left the beers at the table, and slid the 20 they handed me into my pocket.

Back at the bar, Raul was still in deep conversation with the blue-eyed man. He seemed like he was trying to brush him off. “But we had something, dude!”, the guy was saying. “Sorry, baby. I have to get back to work”, Raul smiled; and went over to me, rolling his eyes. I pouted. “I think you broke his heart”. “He’ll get over it”, Raul shrugged. “You’re not gonna see him again?”, I asked. “You usually at least give a guy a couple of dates”. Raul cleared his throat, and looked uncomfortable. “He’s got… this thing”, he muttered. I chuckled. “What… Horns? A tail?”. Raul met my eyes. “Dude’s got a tail?”, I whispered with wide eyes. Raul grimaced. “It’s… a tiny one. But it was right in my line of sight”. I winced. “Yikes…”. “Yeah…”, Raul grumbled. “I’m gonna go get a case of Bud”.

I returned to the patrons at the bar; when suddenly I was face to face with Dean again. “Hi”, he muttered. Sam was standing behind him – looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Hey”, I said. Dean clenched his jaw a second. “We’re here on a case… not to hassle you”. I shrugged. “It’s fine”, I said; trying my best not to get lost in his intense stare. “So… what is it?”. He cleared his throat. “It’s… not something we can talk about with people around”, he said; and pulled a picture from his pocket. “This girl; you seen her?”.

Terri was giving me a million-dollar smile from the photo he was holding up. “Yeah she was here last night, remember?”, I said, raising a brow at him. A smile ghosted his face. “Yeah… She’s missing”. I frowned. “Her friend was here earlier, asking for her”, I said. “Probably the girl we talked to down at the college”, Sam said. A group of frat guys were waving at me from the other end of the bar. “Look, I have to go do my job”.

Raul reappeared from the basement; carrying a case of beer. “You let him wear my shirt?”, Dean snapped. “He’s stretching it, with all that… muscle!”. I shrugged. “Sorry… I can have him take it off”, I smirked. “But he’s got nothing on underneath; and it might cause a stir”. Dean frowned. “No… let him have it”. Sam cleared his throat. “We should get back to the case”. I nodded, and walked away.

Megan returned to the bar. “Can you take care of the frat guys over there?”, I asked. “I need some air”. “Sure thing!”, she grinned. I smiled at Raul, who gave me a knowing look; and I went towards the back door.

I closed the door behind me; and went to stand against the wall. I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I heard the door open and close again. “Really though? My gun and my shirt?”. I opened my eyes to see Dean looking at me with wide eyes. “I don’t want to do this. Please, Dean”, I said quietly. “Too bad, because I do”, he said; his brows raised in a serious expression. “You said a lot of things back there in the car… but you didn’t let me say anything”. I shrugged. “You didn’t seem to be in a chatty mood”. He stepped towards me; leaving less than a yard between us. “That was because I thought you and Sam… No, you know what? Never mind”. I shook my head. “No, you started this. Finish it!”, I sneered.

Dean took a deep breath; seemingly trying to restrain his anger. “I was in Hell, Lou”, he said. “The actual Hell”. My lips parted, and I drew in a short breath. “What do you mean?”, I whispered. “I mean; hellhounds dragged me downstairs, and demons tortured me – ripped me apart, and put me back together – every day for years”. Dean looked down, avoiding my eyes. “But… you weren’t gone for…”, I began. “Time works differently there”, he muttered. “After… a long time… I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I was offered a different position to being the demons’ favorite punching bag”.

I lifted my hand to reach for him; but he stepped backwards. It was as if he was afraid, I’d hurt him if I touched him – or he would hurt me. “I became a torturer myself… I was… good at my job”. “Dean…”, I croaked; and stepped towards him – putting my hand on his arm. He shrugged me off. “You shouldn’t…”, he said quietly. “It’s why I didn’t try to find you again… How could you ever…?”. He looked like the weight of the world – or Hell – was on his shoulders.

I put my hand back on his arm – this time he didn’t move; but he still wouldn’t meet my eyes. “That’s not you”, I said. “It is…”, he rasped. “I did those things. I tortured, and slashed and…”. “Stop…”, I whispered, and stepped closer to him; putting my other hand on his cheek. He finally met my eyes tentatively. “I didn’t want to hurt you… still don’t”, he said. “Who I am – what I’ve done… How could I ever be someone…?”.

I put both my arms around his waist, and held on tightly to him. After a moment; I felt his arms surround me; and he put his face into the crook of my neck. “I’m sorry, Dean”, I whispered. “I’m so sorry”. “No… I don’t deserve that”, he muttered. I shook my head, and looked at him – still holding him tight. “I’m sorry that happened to you”, I said. He furrowed his brow. “You sacrificed yourself for your brother. You are a good man”. “But I did those things…”, he said quietly. “Anyone in your place would have”, I said.

He pulled away from me. “If I could have stayed with you, I would have”, he muttered. I smiled. “No you wouldn’t. You have your job. You help people; and that’s not something you can do from one place”. He nodded, and cleared his throat. “But I would have stayed in touch. I really wanted us to… try”. “And now…?”, I rasped. Dean shook his head. “You have the MMA fighter in there…”. I chuckled. “Raul is gay, Dean”, I smiled. His eyes widened. “So, you two are…”. “Friends”, I said. Dean sighed deeply. “Well I’m an idiot!”, he chuckled. I shrugged. “You kind of are, yeah”, I grinned.

Dean stepped towards me again – and putting his hands on either side of my face – he leaned in; and kissed me. I grabbed his wrists, and put his arms around me – putting my own hands behind his head; running my fingers through his short hair. Dean suckled at my lower lip – gently stroking his tongue across it. I let out a soft moan. He pulled me even closer; before backing me against wall – leaving no space between us. My breath was growing ragged, and I let his tongue enter my mouth; as he ran a hand down to my hip, and pressed into me.

All space and time turned in to this. Me and Dean, colliding like comets, and exploding in passion – in a dirty alleyway behind a bar.

“Dean!”. Sam had come out to find his brother. “Wow… sorry. I didn’t mean to…”. He cleared his throat. Dean looked at his brother, and grinned. “Raul is gay!”, he said happily. Sam raised a confused brow. “Yeah I know. He’s spent the last 15 minutes flirting with me”, he said. “Look, dude, we still have a case to finish”.

Dean stepped back from me; and looked at me apologetically. “I need to…”. “Yeah”, I nodded. “I’m gonna call you!”, he said. “You still don’t have my number”, I chuckled. He licked his lip. “I may or may not have texted myself from your phone, while you were passed out last night”, he admitted with a smirk.

We reentered the bar, and the guys followed me over to the bar. I looked at Raul, and blushed. “What?”, I croaked. Dean looked at Raul with a big grin on his face. “That’s a really nice shirt, man!”, he said. Raul laughed. “Yeah, thanks. I like your lipstick!”. Dean rubbed his lips with the back of his hand; and looked at me with a crooked smile. I leaned over the bar, and grabbed his collar – leaving a short kiss on his lips. “I’ll see you around”, I said. “Yeah”, he smirked. I smiled at Sam, who chuckled at me. “See you, Lulu”, he said; and the brothers walked towards the exit.

I spent a moment regaining my wits. “Dean…”, Raul said; wiggling his brows. “I bet you’re really sorry he’s impotent”. “Shut up”, I chuckled. “Where’s Megan?”. Raul frowned. “Haven’t seen her for a while. Could you take this order?”. He handed me a tray, and I went to serve the table.

---

At 2 am I was finally home. My apartment in Denver was smaller than the one I’d had – just a studio – but it was nice; rustic. I had been able to afford a couple of pieces of second hand furniture – including a bed with a metal bar headboard; a small couch and armchair, with a coffee-table to go with it; a small kitchen table with some chairs; and a dresser. My clothes, books, tv, stereo, records and CDs where all I had brought with me – having left behind the furniture in my old place; wanting to avoid the memories of it.

My feet were tired, my shoulders were sore – but my heart was full. I looked at my phone to see if Dean had texted or called; and came across the text he’d sent his own phone. - Lou. I’m sorry. I know I’m the last person you expected to see. I wish things were different. Things were different now.

I was about to send him a text; when there was a knock at the door. It was late for guests, so I looked out the peep-hole to see who was there. With a smile, I immediately opened the door. “Hi”, Dean said; with a nervous look on his face. “How did you find this place?”, I asked. “You’re listed”, he smiled. “Do you want me to…”. “No!”, I interrupted him. “Come in…”.

Dean stepped in to the room, and looked around. I closed the door behind him. “This is… nice”, he said. “Thanks…”, I muttered. “It’s smaller, but I like it”. Dean moved around the room, taking it in. “I just came by to check you got home ok”. “No…”, I said. He frowned. “No?”. I smiled. “That’s not why you came”, I said. He nodded. “You’re right”.

An eternity passed – or just a second, I couldn’t tell – before, with two long steps, Dean wrapped me in his arms, and pressed his lips to mine. I ran my hands up his torso, and he pulled back from me; looking on in wonder, as I pushed his jacket off his shoulders, and down his arms – letting it drop to the floor.

Dean attacked my mouth again, and our tongues met at the same time our bodies did. I gasped, as Dean gently pulled at my lip with his teeth – gaging my reaction with intense green eyes. I pulled at his shirt, and he quickly pulled it off; discarding it somewhere over his shoulder – before tugging at the hem of my tank. “Tell me to stop”, he breathed against my mouth. “I’ll leave right away”. “No”, I rasped. “Don’t stop”. I lifted my arms in the air, and let him pull the fabric over my head.

He stepped backwards, and pulled off his own t-shirt. His torso was taut – trimmed, but not ripped. He was strong, I could tell – and remember – and I bit my lip as I looked him over. I stepped close to him again, and ran my fingertips from the amulet in his necklace, across his chest; ending up at a strange tattoo on his peck. Leaning in, I left a soft kiss on it, and gently licked a trail across his collarbone, and up his neck – feeling the stubble on his jaw meet my tongue. Dean drew in a short breath, and grabbed my hair; pulling my head back, so he could kiss me again.

Putting his hands on my thighs, he tapped them; telling me to jump. I giggled slightly, as he caught me; and I straddled his waist. Dean starred into my eyes with lust-blown pupils, and carried me towards the bed; letting his lips brush mine gently, as if to kiss me – then suddenly let go; dropping me onto the mattress.

He grinned down at me; before in a swift move pushing me to lie down, and crawling over me. For a moment he just looked at me. Then, he kissed my lips softly, and moved downwards, leaving a trail of kisses on my chin, my neck, my collarbone; and finally, one of each of my breasts, just where the lace met my skin. The stubble on his chin brushing against my skin, made my breath hitch. I slid my hands down his strong back; feeling his muscles flex under my touch. Dean’s hands where on my waist; and he looked up at me as his fingers travelled towards the button on my jeans – looking for consent. I bit my lip again, and nodded.

Sitting back on his knees – one of them between my legs – Dean opened the button, and then pulled down the zipper. He hooked his fingers into my waistband, and pulled my jeans down. I pulled myself backwards on the bed, so he could pull them off me. Nipping at both of my big toes, he pulled off my socks as well – and with a grin, he threw them over his shoulders, before bending down again, and kissing my knees. His lips left pecks up the inside of my thigh; and his warm breath there left me whimpering quietly, as my body stirred under him.

Dean moved upwards – the whole time looking into my eyes – pausing for a moment over the apex of my thighs, and parting his lips; licking the bottom one. I closed my eyes and put my head back on the pillow. Deans warm breath over my core was enough to make my walls quake. Suddenly he was over me again, kissing my lips. “Tease…”, I smiled against his lips. “You know it”, he said; and flicked my lips with his tongue. I threw my arms around him, and kissed him passionately – pushing his shoulder with one hand, to get him to roll onto his back. Dean obliged, and I straddled his waist – crawling backwards on my knees, so I could open his belt and the button of his jeans – as he looked on in wonder. Before I could finish the job, he sat up; and with a swift move, he unhooked my bra.

“You’ve had practice”, I chuckled. “Susan Farrow?”. He shrugged with a smug smile. Dean pulled at my bra straps, taking off the garment slowly – looking at my chest as he unveiled my mounds. He let out a soft “Oh… wow…”, as my breasts came in to view. I laughed softly, and took his hand to place it one of my mounds. He squeezed it gently, and looked into my eyes again. I parted my lips and drew in a hard breath, when he let his thumb graze over my nipple. Using his index finger as well, he pulled gently at it – leaving it erect. He used his other hand to do the same on my other bud. Moving his hands to my back, he rolled me onto my back again, and got off the bed, finally taking of his pants, boots and socks – leaving him in his boxers.

Dean Winchester was not impotent. The stretched fabric on the front of his underwear gave that away very clearly. I raised my brow at the sight, and let out a pleased breath. Dean shrugged – once again looking quite pleased with himself. He knew exactly how good looking he was.

I sat up and took his hand; pulling him down over me again. This time he didn’t play around. He pushed me to lay down against the pillow – and sucked gently at my nipple – before moving down to my panties, and pulling them off me. Lifting my knee, he put it over his shoulder – gave me a quick smirk – before brushing his lips over my lower ones. “Oh!”, I gasped, as he gently blew at my nub. “This ok?”, he breathed. “Uh huh…”, I moaned.

Dean kissed my bundle off nerves, and then licked over my labia with a flat tongue. His index finger parted my lips and felt for my wetness – apparently striking gold from the sound of his chuckle. The finger entered me down to the knuckle, and bended upwards. I whimpered loudly. “You sure you don’t wanna just watch a movie?”, Dean grinned up at me. “Dean!”, I pleaded with a raspy voice. He chuckled again, and got back to work.

And some work that was. Dean added another finger, and moved them in and out of me – occasionally crooking them upwards – all while gently kissing my nub over and over. “Please…”, I croaked. He opened his mouth slightly, and sucked the little pebble into his mouth; playing with it with the tip of his tongue.

I grasped at the covers underneath me, breathing raggedly; and cursing in a language I didn’t even know myself. Everything went white, as Deans fingers picked up speed, and he sucked at me harder. “Come on, baby”, he breathed; and sucked my nub into his mouth again. His fingers pressed hard upwards – and suddenly I was flying; soaring above the bed as I came. Dean kept going, and I looked down at him, meeting his mischievous eyes. He was going to draw this out. His fingers continued their attack, and his mouth wouldn’t let go off me. I tried to pull backwards – not sure how much more I could take – but he used his free arm to wrap over my thigh and hip, and held me fast against his face.

“I… can’t…”, I sobbed; when suddenly my walls quivered even harder, and it felt like I exploded into tiny little atoms. Every part of me was on fire, and my body convulsed under Dean. I realized then, that what I had felt before was not an orgasm. This was an orgasm – and the most intense one I’d ever had to boot. I cried out my pleasure, and – finally – Dean relented; letting go of me from his lips, and gently withdrawing his fingers from my still throbbing core.

He came up to lay next to me, putting his arm over my belly. “You still with me?”, he chuckled. “No…”, I croaked. “You know, you say that a lot”, he grinned; and pulled me close to him. I felt his erection poke at my thigh. “Don’t worry about it. Come down to earth first”, he said softly. I nodded. “Wow…”, I said. “That was… something else”. “I know”, Dean smirked. “You are so full of yourself!”, I chuckled.

Finally feeling by body relax, I stroked his cheek; and leaned in to kiss him again. As he pulled himself to lay halfway over me, I put one arm around his back, holding him close – while my other hand travelled down his torso. My fingertips grazed over the tip of his member; and he gasped softly. “I haven’t even touched you yet”, I smiled. “I don’t need you to touch me to feel the way I do right now”, he breathed. “It’s enough when you just look at me”. “Well, I’m not satisfied with just looking”, I said, and kissed him passionately, as I put my hand under the waistband of his boxers, and grabbed his hardness.

I stroked him gently – once in a while applying a bit of pleasure – as he just looked into my eyes. “If you could just do that forever, that would be great”, he croaked. “Really?”, I asked, and nibbled at his lower lip while he whimpered from my touch. “There’s nothing else you’d like to do?”. Darkness ghosted his face, and he quickly pulled off his underwear, and placed himself between my legs. “Hard or soft?”, he almost growled. “Anyway you want it, that’s the way you need it…”, I said quietly. He looked at me in amazement. “Where have they been hiding you?”, he asked. His penis probed my entrance, and using his hand to guide it; he pushed inside me with a agonizingly slow movement. He let me adjust to him for a moment, before – with a soft smile – he began moving.

I lifted one leg and wrapped it around his hips, pulling him towards me. We moved together slowly, stroking every inch of skin we could reach on the other’s body. Kissing my lips gently; I ran my nails down his back – letting him know that what he was doing to me was heavenly. “Lou… you’re gonna make this end much sooner than I’d like it to”, Dean warned me. I skimmed his arms with my nails, and raised a brow at him. “That’s it”, he said with a chiding tone.

With a swift move of Deans hips and his strong arms, I was suddenly on top. “Really?”, I smiled. “Now I have all the control”. “That’s what you think, sweetheart”, he smirked, sat up and caught my wrists; pinning them behind my back.

With his free hand, he grabbed my hip, and began controlling their movements. I struggled against his grip, which made my chest arch forwards; and Dean caught my nipple in his mouth – sucking at it. I grinded against him; and we moaned together – both smiling at the pleasure the other brought us. “You feel… awesome”, Dean gasped against my lips; catching me in another kiss. His hardness inside me – filling my insides perfectly – and the way my grinding caused friction to my clitoris; drew me closer to a second climax. I buried my face in the crook of his neck; and he finally let go of my wrists – letting me embrace him.

My newfound freedom let me move differently, and I began raising and lowering myself on his member – drawing even more wanton noises from his lips. My hands were in his hair, his were on my bottom; helping me rise and fall with his strong arms. “I need to…”, Dean croaked; and flipped us over again – placing my leg over his shoulder. The new angle immediately made me see stars, as the head of his penis rubbed at that special spot inside of me, his fingers had found before – every time he pulled back, and thrusted back inside me again.

Dean picked up the pace; and his breathing grew erratic. My tunnel was clenching around him more and more forcefully, until I finally cried out my climax. Deans brow furrowed. He was desperately trying to hold back; and quickly losing the battle. “Can I…?”, he croaked. I nodded fervently. With a few more hard thrusts; he came undone inside me. I pulled my knee down from his shoulder, and wrapped both my legs and arms around him, as he let go. Finally, he relaxed on top of me. I kissed him gently, and we smiled at each other. “Hi…”, he breathed; looking at me with hazy eyes. “Hey”, I chuckled.

Dean gently pulled out of me, and laid himself next to me; pulling me close, and kissing my shoulder. After a while of just cuddling, and looking at each other; nature called. “I have to…”, I muttered, and pulled out of his arms, as he groaned in annoyance. “Just… give me a few minutes. I’ll be back… Unless you wanna join me in the shower?”. His brows raised in pleased surprise. “I could use a hose down”, he grinned. “Call me when you’re ready”.

I did a naked run to the bathroom; hurriedly finished my business, and washed my hands – before opening the door to call for Dean.

In the middle of the room stood a broody looking man in a beige trench coat. “Jesus Christ!”, I yelped. “Not quite”, the man said with a disinterested voice.

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#dean x oc #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #supernatural fic #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester smut

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mrswalkerwritesagain · 5 years

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Score - Drake x MC (Rated 18+)

Book: The Royal Romance Genres: Fluff, Romance, Smut Rating: 18+ Pairings: Drake x Louisa Word Count: ~1900 Prompt: We shouldn’t be having sex here and, oh my god, did I make that stain?!

Happy Thirsty Thursday, ya’ll!

“Oh, come on! What the hell was that?!?”

Drake drags his hands over his face and lets out a muffled groan of frustration. He can’t believe how badly this is going. How could his team be undefeated all season and then choke this badly in the semifinals? He loves football, soccer as Louisa insists on calling it even after all her years of living in Cordonia, but this is just painful.

“Ah, I can almost taste the steak dinner you’re going to owe me,” Liam says, grinning widely. In public, King Liam might be gracious and magnanimous, but his friends, especially his oldest friend, knows better. Liam loves to win.

“Just so you know, the smart-ass thing isn’t a good color on you,” Drake frowns and slouches back on the sofa in Liam’s den.

“Come now,” Liam laughs. “You’re just bitter because you’re about to lose our bet for the 4th year running.”

“Hey, there’s still time. Don’t count Valtoria out just yet,” Drake tells him defensively. “I have a chance.”

“Half a chance perhaps. There’s less than 10 minutes left and the score is 6 to 1…oh, wait…” Liam pauses to watch the game on the projector screen where the Stormholt Dragons drive down the field and score on the Valtoria Stallions yet again, “…7-1. It’s all right to admit defeat, my friend, and you’ve forgotten I like my steaks medium rare.”

Drake is about to respond when there’s a brisk knock on den’s door.

“Enter,” Liam calls out, still grinning smugly.

A small, bird-like woman in a black pantsuit scurries into the room carrying swatches of fabric in varying shades of reds. She apologizes profusely before holding out the fabric to Liam.

“I know it’s late, Your Majesty, but I need your opinion on the velvet. The ruby is an obvious choice with it’s correlation to the Cordonian Ruby. The garnet is a good choice if you want something a little more sedate. If you’d prefer to go with tradition, this shade, rather unfortunately called blood red, is what was used previously.”

“New suit?” Drake asks. Liam and the woman gape at Drake in disbelief.

“What?”

“A new suit…made of red velvet?”

“Well, how the hell should I know why you’re picking out fabrics!”

“We’re reupholstering the chairs in the council chamber,” Liam shakes his head and returns his attention to the fabrics in front of him.

Drake chokes on his drink and coughs harshly, “What? Why?”

“It was past time anyway,” Liam explains, “but recently Olivia found a rather unsightly stain on hers and she’s put up a rather...unyielding in her demands to have it remedied.”

“Oh…shit,” Drake hisses.

Two weeks ago at the Cordonian Masquerade Ball…

“We shouldn’t be doing this…oof!” Drake grunts as Louisa pushes him onto the chair in the council chambers. He’s pretty sure it’s Olivia’s, but it’s too dark and he’s too distracted by the wicked glint in his wife’s eyes to pay too much attention. He loves and hates when she gets that look in her eyes; it always spells trouble - usually sexy, drunken, helluva-lot-of-fun trouble, but trouble nonetheless.

“Come on, Drake,” Louisa purrs, sliding her hands down the curves of her body, over the intricate beading of her costume gown. “We spend so much time in this room and you’ve really never thought about doing this?”

“Usually when were in here I’m just trying to stay awake.”

Louisa giggles at that. The Royal Council of Cordonia has done a lot of good for their country, but there’s no denying that the meetings are pretty dry and boring a lot of the time. He’s definitely seen Lou herself zone out a time or two.

“Doing this here has literally never crossed my mind,” Drake tells her.

He’s not saying he doesn’t want to do this. They make time to escape almost every event they attend as the Duke and Duchess of Valtoria, but these days it’s usually just for a quiet moment away from the crowd - chance to breath in fresh air and take a walk together. It’s been a while since they’ve snuck out to fool around. Tonight, Louisa clearly wants more than stroll through the gardens though judging by the hungry look in her dark eyes.

“I love you, Lou, and I want you,” he tells her earnestly, “but this probably isn’t the best place. We’re not that far from the ballroom and someone could catch us. I think this might be a...very...bad...idea...”

Drake’s words grow strangled and he swallows hard as Louisa holds his gaze and pulls her floor-length dress up to reveal her shapely calves and thighs.

“Yes, but lucky for me..." she reaches under her skirt, shimmies a little bit, and a moment later, her black satin panties hang off her finger. She drops them to the floor and gives Drake a knowing look, “...you love my very bad ideas, don't you?"

“Goddammit, Tennant,” he growls and takes her by the hips, pulling her to him as she laughs. She bends at the waist and holds his face in her hands as she kisses him deeply. God help him, bad idea or not, he can’t resist her. He’s never been able to resist her.

“I want you so much, Drake. God, I need you...” Louisa moans as Drake lays kisses along her neck. His pride surges at the way her breath catches from his touch. He runs his hands down her body, across her back, over her buttocks, and down the back of her thighs to pull her skirt up once again.

As he strokes the soft skin of her inner thighs, teasingly close to her folds, Louisa undoes his pants and takes him her hand, pumping up and down until he's stiff and throbbing. The feeling of her small fingers wrapped around him makes his eyes roll back and Drake lets himself get lost in the pressure of her touch. His breathing turns shallow as pleasure burns through his veins.

“Fuck...Lou...come on...” Drake moves his hands to her waist and urges Louisa closer. She quickly straddles him and Drake's hips jerk when the wet heat of her brushes his tip. He lets out a low moan as she sinks onto him. He forces his eyes open to watch a look of rapture play out on her soft features. Louisa’s mouth falls open and a deep sigh falls from her lips as they curl into a blissful smile.

"God, you're beautiful," Drake mutters, awestruck by the way the moonlight illuminates her in the dark council chambers. Louisa looks down at him with a tender smile and cups his cheek.

"So are you," she tells him and rolls her hips against his in slow, deliberate movements that send jolts of electric heat through both of them, drawing gasps from both of them.

Drake leans in to bite the strap of her dress with his teeth and he drags it down her shoulder. Louisa wriggles and pulls at the other strap until she’s laid bare in front of him save for a sheer bra of satin and lace. God, he loves when she wears things like this. It’s rather run-of-the-mill as far as turn-ons go, but he’s a simple man.

Drake buries his face in the valley of Louisa’s bosom, dragging his tongue over the swells of her breasts and the hem of her bra. Louisa arches backwards in his embrace and he takes one of her nipples into his mouth through the lacy fabric, lavishing attention on the taut bud. Louisa writhes on top of him and grips Drake’s shoulders so tightly he feels her nails through the fabric of his jacket and shirt and it only spurs him on. He pistons his hips upward harder as she grinds down to meet him.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Drake grunts and drives upward, drawing a cry from Louisa.

“Ooooh...god...more...Drake...more..."

Drake cups the back of her neck in his hand, pulling her into a passionate kiss. They break apart gasping for breath as Louisa's movements grow more ardent and desperate. Louisa grasps the ornately carved chair back behind his head and rides him with wanton abandon. She throws her head back and Drake wraps his arms around her back, pulling her close. He can see all the signs that she's getting close - the way her pupils are blown wide and dark, the way she's biting her lip, the whimpering, pleading way she's whispering his name.

"Lou...look at me, καρδιά μου," Drake commands hoarsely and Louisa turns her heated gaze to him, staring into his eyes as comes with a breathless cry of his name. She shudders and then she collapses boneless and gasping against him. With a couple more thrusts, he follows her, groaning deeply as the light behind his eyes goes white with euphoric bliss.

“Wow, that was…wow,” Louisa laughs as they come back to themselves and Drake gives her a broad, dazed smile.

“Yeah, wow about covers it,” he tilts his head up to meet her soft kiss and reluctantly releases her to extracts herself from his embrace. She pulls her dress back up over her shoulders as he stands on slightly shaking legs to zip up his pants and straighten his suit. Louisa has just finished pulling on her discarded panties when she lets out a high-pitched little shriek.

"What? What? Are you okay? Did someone see?" Drake looks over at the doorway they'd snuck in early, his blood pumping hard at the thought of getting caught, but Louisa isn't looking at the door. Her eyes are glued to the chair they just vacated with a horrified look on her face.

"Oh, no, no, no!" she points at the chair frantically. "Drake! Look! There’s a stain. Oh god. We stained the Olivia’s chair!"

"Jesus Christ," Drake looses a string of curses in Greek. "I told you this was a bad idea, Lou!"

"You weren't complaining a minute ago!"

"I tried to tell you! But then you took off your underwear and just jumped right on my dick!"

"Hey! It takes two to tango, Walker!" Louisa snaps at him, panic still written over her face.

"You know what?" Drake says, trying to stay calm for both their sakes. "Maybe it wasn't even us. Maybe it was there before."

Louisa presses her fingers to the dark spot on the red velvet and grimaces.

"It was definitely us. It's still wet," she tells him and Drake can't help but grin a little. Damn right it is. Louisa catches the look on his face and slaps his shoulder. "Stop smiling! What are we going to do? What do we do? This is a royal chamber! Is this some kind of treason?"

"No! Well, I don't think so anyway," Drake says. He looks around and spots someone’s left behind jacket on the back of one of the other chairs. He nabs it and lays it, hopefully rather haphazardly over the stain, and steps back.

"There. No one will come in here with the party going on tonight and it’ll be dry by the time they notice anything is amiss."

"Are you sure?" Louisa asks, looking skeptically from the pillow to Drake and back again.

"Yeah. Positive."

Present day...

"Drake? Are you in there, friend?"

"What!" Drake jumps at Liam’s hand waving in front of his face.

The decorator woman is gone and it’s just the two of them again. Drake hadn’t even seen her leave. Liam studies Drake’s face carefully and Drake prays his newly grown in beard will hide the embarrassed flush that’s burning on his cheeks.

"Where did you go?" Liam eyes him with concern. "You completely zoned out and the game is almost over.”

"Oh, uh, just, um,” Drake laughs nervously, “thinking about...scoring,"

#drake x mc #drake walker x louisa tennant #the royal romance #playchoices fanfiction #mrswalkerwrites fanfiction #rated m #ns*fw

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trilliastra · 6 years

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I read this tweet that said "this guy was sitting on the floor of the gym on his phone and he looks up at me and goes "my girl has my location shared and i promised her i was gonna go to the gym more so now i just sit here and watch netflix". Which just screams sterek fic to me XD

Derek notices him the first time heshows up wearing jeans and a t-shirt, definitely not appropriateexercising gear. He’s correcting Mr. Wilson’s posture, buthe still sees the guy walking towards Erica, saying something that makesher laugh and then taking a seat at the lobby.

Derek figures he’s waiting forsomeone, so he just focuses on Mr. Wilson and lets the guy be.

Two days later the guy is back, thesame stupid smile on his face as he says hi to Erica and collapses onthe same chair, phone in hand. Derek frowns before Laura is callingfor his help with one of her exercises - his sister just doesn’tknow when to stop trying to gain muscle, god.

January and February are the busiestmonths, people who usually just run outside come into thegym to avoid the cold and the snow, so Derek doesn’t have the timeto wonder about the guy. But three weeks after the first time Dereknoticed him, Erica goes into labor.

She sounds calm when she calls Derekinforming him she won’t be able to make it, but five minutes afterBoyd leaves the gym in a hurry she calls Derek again, yelling about her husband not being there with her yet. Erica is his best friend andDerek’s going to be her daughter’s godfather, but damn - he coulddo without her screaming.

“Hey.” The guy comes into the gymwhen Derek is sorting through stacks of paper, taking care of thefront desk while Erica is probably yelling obscenities at thehospital. “Where’s Erica?”

“Having a baby.” Derek answers,arching an eyebrow when the guy’s eyes shine and he smiles.

“Oh, cool!” He yells,enthusiastically. “I like babies.” He says before taking his phone and starting to watch some video.

Derek’s eye twitches. “Areyou waiting for someone?”

The guy looks up, gives Derek anonce-over and shakes his head. “No.”

“Then why are you here?”

“My girl has my location shared andI promised her I was gonna go to the gym more so now I just sit hereand watch Netflix.” He smiles like that’s a completely normalthing that people do.

“Did Erica give you our wifipassword?” Derek takes a deep breath, tries to remember his friendis in pain right now.

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’,not taking his eyes away from his phone. “We are buds.”

“Right.” Derek closes his eyes,rubs at his temples. “That will be 10 dollars.”

“What?” The guy all but jumps,dropping his phone on his lap. He licks his lips and Derek followsthe movement with his eyes, groaning inwardly. Figures the guy wouldbe hot - and have a girlfriend. With hands like that, of course hedoes. He bets those fingers can do things tosomeone. “I’m just using your wifi!”

“For free.” Derekstresses.

“I -” the guy sputters, trying tocome up with something, “I wanna talk to the owner!”

“You are.” Derek smirks, crossinghis arms over his chest. He tries not to laugh as the guy freezes.

“Ugh.” He takes hiswallet, slams a ten dollar bill on the desk. “And Ithought Erica was scary.”

“She is.” Derek smilestriumphantly. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just tell yourgirlfriend the truth?”

The guy snorts, humorless. “No.”

“Oh well,” Derek shrugs, “suityourself.”

Erica laughs until she cries whenDerek lectures her about giving their wifi password to strangers. Hisglare is less effective when he’s holding a tiny cute baby in hisarms, but - well, Erica was always immune to his glare.

“His name is Stiles.” She informs, taking Bea from him. “He’s Scott’s friends, you know?The guy who works with Isaac.”

Derek does know him, Scott is a nicevet and a nice guy. Stiles - and what kind of name is that? - is not.

“He shouldn’t be lying to hisgirlfriend.” Derek states, just to have something to say. Boydcomes into the room and smiles softly at his wife. “And ifyou’re coming to a gym every other day, why don’t just try itout?”

“Not everyone likes lifting weightsas much as you.” Boyd points out, clasping Derek’s back andsmiling teasingly.

“Well,” Derek mutters, runningone finger over Bea’s nose, “I guess he doesn’t reallyneed much exercising.” Not that Derek was looking.

“Interested much?” Erica teases.

“He has a girlfriend.”

“So?” She smiles, taking Boyd’shand. “Boyd had a girlfriend when we met, now look at us.”She winks. “A house, lots of sex, one daughter.”

Ugh.

“Hey, Derek!” Derek groans, hideshis face further in his arms. “Woah, what happened to you?”

“Took Boyd out to celebrate.” Hemumbles. It’s been so long they went out, he had forgotten Boyddrinks a lot.

Stilessnorts. “Sucks being you.”

“Ha-ha.”Someone slams a door inside and Derek winces. “I hate my life.”

Aglass of water is placed in front of him and when Derek looks up,Stiles is smiling. “I heard it helps.”

Dereknods, slowly. “Thanks.” He says, watching as Stiles sits on thechair that Derek now thinks as ’Stiles’ chair’and takes his phone. “What are you watching?”

“MadMen?” He says. “Have you watched?”

“Thefirst two seasons, I think.” Derek drinks the rest of the water,thinking about the last time he sat in front of the TV to just watchsomething. Paperwork is a bitch.

“I’mstarting the third.” Stiles smiles. “You wanna?” He waves hisphone and pats the seat next to him.

Dereklooks at the stack of papers on the desk, his head still pounding.Fuck it. “Yeah, okay.” He sits next to Stiles and tries not tothink about how he smells so nice.

It’s been two weeks since Erica hadBea and she’s still home. She came to the gym the week before tointroduce Bea to the rest of the staff, took one look at Derek’s deskand insisted she was ready to work. Derek only shook his head andsaid he could handle it – it’s a lie and they both know it, butErica has a baby to take care now. Derek can deal with a fewsleepless nights, mostly because he knows Erica is not sleepingeither.

“So what do you teach?” Stilesasks, leaning against the front desk and running his eyes over themess Derek spent most of the afternoon trying to sort.

“Everything.” Derek shrugs.“We’re a little short-handed since Erica is on her leave andJackson left without any explanation two months ago.” Even thoughJackson is an asshole and they’re much better without him, that meansDerek has to cover his shifts. Which also means less sleeping, moreworking. “And what do you do?Besides coming here and doing nothing, that is.”

Stilessnorts. “I work from home and I mostly do my own hours. Lucky me, Iguess.”

“Yeah,yeah.” Derek waves him off, pointedly not staring at his smile. Theattraction was easy to ignore when Stiles was just sitting therequietly, but now he’s decided they needto talk. It’s the worst – the guy couldn’t just be hot, he has tobe smart, cute and funny too. Cora is having the time of her lifeteasing him. “Here,” he hands Stiles a calculator and a list ofnumbers, “do the thing.”

“What?”Stiles fumbles with the paper. It’s stupidly cute. “Dude, did youforget I’m the one paying you?”

“You’redistracting me.” Derek says. “So shut up and do somethinguseful.”

“Rude.”Stiles mumbles, but he sits next to Derek and begins to work.

Stilesdoesn’t leave till Derek closes up and then practically drags him tothe coffee shop on the corner. It’s one of the best work days Derek’sever had.

Stiles shows up next Monday wearingsneakers and sweatpants, it’s not what Derek would have chosen but itwill have to do. “No.” Derek doesn’t let Stiles sit, takeshis arm and drags him towards the room they use for yoga classes. “Doyou know how to stretch?”

“What.” Stiles blinks. “Ofcourse I do, but what - “

“Then stretch.”

“But I don’t want to!” Stileswhines. “Can’t I just go back to watching Black Mirror on myphone?”

“Nope.” Derek smiles. “Newpolicy: you’re in my gym, you do what I say. Stretch.”

Stiles groans, but do as Derek said.He alternates between complaining and glaring, but Derek doesn’tmind. He’s enjoying himself watching Stiles suffer. This hasnothing to do with the way his arms look. Or his ass.

Shit, that’s a nice ass.

“Are we done?”

“As if.” Derek smirks, dragginghim to the treadmills. “Ten minutes, then let’s see what youcan do with the weights.”

“Nothing!” Stiles complains. “I’mweak! I do computer programming and I never leave my apartment! Iplayed lacrosse in high school and I only watchbaseball on my TV, please stop torturing me.” Derek snorts, makingStiles glare at him again. “You’re an asshole.”

“I know.” He turns around. “Tenminutes.”

Even though he complained for thefirst ten or fifteen minutes, Stiles is surprisingly good atfollowing instructions. Derek makes him do pull ups, works histriceps and his legs with different exercises and finishes withanother ten minutes at the treadmill.

“I’m dead.” Stiles says whenthey are done. “You killed me, I hate you. Where’s Erica?”

“Still taking care of her baby.”Derek shrugs, looking down so not to give into the urge to lick at astray drop of sweat running down Stiles’ neck. “You know youcan change instructors, right? Maybe you’d prefer Cora?” Hepoints at the far end of the gym, where Cora is yelling at Danny topress harder. Stiles visibly shudders.

“Yeah, no.” He sighs. “Thanks, though.” Stiles scratches at the back of his neck. “Iactually need to start doing stuff, I’m just too lazy to admit.”He smiles shyly, and Derek feels himself flushing red.

“I’m doing this for yourgirlfriend.” Derek says, turning around to mess with some neatlyorganized papers, just so he can have something to do with his hands.

“Yeah,” Stiles starts, “shebroke up with me, like - weeks ago.”

“Oh?” Derek turns, feels hisheart begin to beat faster. “Why did you keep coming, then?”

“I don’t know.” Stilesshrugs. “I guess I just like it here.” It’s Stiles’ turnto look away. “When you’re not making me exercise or helpout with the bills, you’re actually nice.”

“Oh, I –” Derek swallows hard,tries to hide his blush, “thanks, I guess.” He’s so bad at this,no wonder he’s still single. Sometimes people come into the gym andstart hitting on him and Derek only finds out days later, when Ericacalmly explains at him that ‘no, Derek, she didn’t actually need helpstretching, she just wanted your hands on her’.

“You’re welcome.” Stiles says,looks down at his phone and then up at Derek again. “I guess I haveto go. Unless, you want me to stay? Help you out some more?” Hesmiles, tentative.

Derek licks his lips, looks away.“Nah, it’s fine.” He shrugs. “I – you go ahead. I – uh, seeyou tomorrow?” He risks a glance at Stiles and sees him nod slowly, almost disappointed.

“Sure.” Stiles says, pocketinghis phone. “See ya.” Derek watches him walk away with one lastwave, follows him with his eyes as Stiles gets on his Jeep. Hedoesn’t turn on the engine, though, just stays there, hands on thesteering wheel, breathing in and out.

Derek doesn’t know what does it –if the look on Stiles’ face or if he’s just too tired after all thistime wanting and wondering– but one minute he’s watching Stiles mutter something to himselfand the next he’s sprinting across the room and towards Stiles’car. “Stiles!” He knocks on the window, watches as Stiles’ faceturns surprised and smiles. “I – do you wanna go on a date? Withme? Tonight?”

Stilesblinks and then he grins, brightly. “Of course.” He says. “Ithought you’d never ask.”

“In mydefense,” Derek says, smiling back, “I thought you had agirlfriend.”

“Fairenough.” Stiles concedes. “But in my defense, you lookreally cute when you’re tired and that’s just really unfair.”

Dereklaughs, leaning over the window to press a kiss against Stiles’cheek. “Meet you at the coffee shop in two hours?”

Stilesbrings one hand to rest over the spot Derek just kissed, eyesshining and a beautiful smile on his face. “I’ll see you there.”

–

Even afterthey start dating, Derek keeps making Stiles exercise but less at thegym and more at home. On his bed.

#Anonymous #asks #sterek #teen wolf #eternalsterek #my fic #idk where this came from #*1k

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