#Most likely wrong but wouldn’t be so uncharacteristically soft and unexpected of him? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rypnami · 11 months

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Into the Snake Pit (part 2)

masterpost | part 1

huge thanks to @grandeoatmilklatte and @auxiliare for beta reading! you guys are amazing!

word count: 1.5 k

rating: PG-13

warnings: description of gore, cult mentions/appearance, murder, solomon exists

summary: alice is having trouble coping with the brutal murder of vivianne blackthorne and the rise of the purists. solomon provides unexpected comfort

“Long night?” He asked, trying not to smile

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Alice grumbled back.

Alice couldn’t sleep. In itself, that wasn’t too unusual; she’d never been one for a healthy sleep schedule. This evening, however, it was different. Not her usual nightly insomnia.

Vivianne Blackthorne had been one of the Auror department’s most talented witches. As one of the most senior members, she’d seen it all. To think that someone had been able to take her down… and in the vicious manner that they had?

Alice wasn’t sure if she’d ever actually sleep again.

Gutted. Limbs everywhere… She yanked her soft red blankets over her head and groaned. Why would anyone do that? Surely, this cult, led by a powerful wizard, could have just used the Killing Curse and been done with it? But no, they’d opted for the most brutal form of murder they could.

She wasn’t sure why she’d been put on this assignment, either. Compared to several of the other Aurors, she and Solomon were fairly new. They’d only worked there for about 5 years at this point, and there were certainly more experienced witches and wizards than them. Not that she was afraid. No, no, not at all… she was never scared.

What if that happens to us, though? More specifically, to her. Solomon was a pureblood, he likely didn’t have a thing to worry about. Out of all the teams to put on this case, why had Minister Spavin assigned them to it? Sure, all Auror work was dangerous, but this felt even more so to Alice specifically.

It was probably best not to think about it.

If only she could turn off her stupid, overactive brain.

—-

The next morning, Solomon was at his desk, reading over the second wave of reports on Anthony Kane, when the door burst open and Alice strode in. She flopped into the chair at her own desk, and he could tell right away something was off.

Deep, dark circles had formed under eyes, and her frizzy ginger hair was even more dishevelled than usual. Her tie was only half done, and her blazer was wrinkled and buttoned in the wrong holes, as though she’d slept in it.

“Long night?” He asked, trying not to smile. Maybe she was tired enough that for once in her life, she wouldn’t be a nuisance.

“You could say that,” Alice muttered, and rested her head on her desk. Her glasses smooshed against her face.

Solomon didn’t press, and went back to his papers. It seemed like Kane and his fanatics were becoming more bold. There’d been an attack near Keenbridge the previous night, and half of the hamlet had been burnt down. Perhaps if he-

His thoughts were cut off abruptly by a loud, annoying snore. Solomon looked up and saw that Alice had fallen asleep, a small puddle of drool forming on her desk. He smiled slightly, in spite of himself, and stood. He pulled his old, slightly worn black blazer off and walked over, putting it across Alice’s shoulders as she slept. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d done that; out of pity, maybe. She really did look quite awful, like she’d had a run-in with a dementor, or something similar.

Once he’d sat back down and continued reading, he’d ever so often glance back up at Alice, to see how she was faring. For the most part, she appeared to be sleeping soundly. Every once in a while, she’d twitch, or mutter some incomprehensible nonsense.

After perhaps an hour, she jerked awake, sitting straight up in her chair and gasping. “Oh, shit, did I fall asleep?!”

He smirked. “You certainly did. Enjoy your beauty sleep, Bernadotte?”

Alice gave him an uncharacteristic scowl and threw his jacket back at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Sallow?!”

“Well, for someone who sleeps so much, one would think you’d be much prettier.”

She gave him the darkest look he’d ever seen. “For your information, Solomon, I didn’t sleep at all last night,” she huffed, trying to straighten out her hair. “At least you don’t have much to worry about.”

Solomon quirked an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “What do you mean by that?”

Alice tapped her foot impatiently on the floor, still giving him a grumpy look. “You’re a pureblood. You don’t have to worry about the damn Purists ripping your intestines out!” Unlike Solomon, Alice was muggleborn. Both of her parents had about as much magic in them as a rock. In her opinion, that didn’t make them worth any less than anyone else, but unfortunately, there was a select, vocal minority that thought the opposite.

“Maybe if you thought about someone other than yourself every once in a while, you’d realise we all have problems,” she grumbled snidely.

“Excuse me?!” Solomon spluttered and got to his feet. “I do think of others! I think about you all the time!”

Oh. Shit. I didn’t mean to say that bit out loud.

Alice blinked, the corners of her eyes crinkling slightly as her face shifted back into that usual, annoying expression of self-satisfaction.

“I- I just mean because you’re my partner. And I’m stuck working with you all the time. Of- of course I think about you sometimes!” He really, really hoped that his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt at that moment.

That was definitely a lie. If he was honest, Alice was at the forefront of his mind more often than he’d care to admit. Her annoying jokes, and her annoying giggle, the way the scar on her left eye distracted from how pretty the colour of her eyes actually was… And how fucking obnoxious it was when she’d ask him if “his family was alright.” As if she cared.

Alright… and maybe he sometimes kind of thought about how cute it was when her nose wrinkled up when she laughed.

But that was it. Strictly professional.

Mostly.

She chuckled, and he was frankly relieved to see her back to her old self, even if just for a moment. “Alright, alright, whatever you say…”

“Yes! Whatever I say! I’m the senior officer here!”

Alice grinned. “By three. Months.” She held up three fingers, as if he were too dumb to know much three was.

As if she knew anything. People didn’t call him B-bomb back at Hogwarts for nothing, after all. Three months was a long time, in some respects.

While he sat there, trying to process the very complicated and annoying emotions that were blossoming all of a sudden, Alice came over and sat on his desk (AGAIN). She read the abridged version of the Keenbridge attack, her eyebrows furrowing.

“Christ,” she mumbled, biting her bottom lip as she thought. “These guys are completely mental, aren’t they?” She looked up at Solomon, and he couldn’t help but notice how sparkly her eyes were… “What the bloody hell is in Keenbridge that made it worth burning?” She pointed to the next line on the parchment. “Four people missing, too?” Alice shook her head, her face back to that dark, pensive expression. “How was this allowed to happen? How did no one step in before things got this serious?”

Solomon took the parchment and read over the bit she’d pointed at. “Your guess is as good as mine, really,” he said, more to himself, as he set the page down. “But one thing is clear; we need to find out where they’re going to strike next, and get there first.”

“Great plan,” Alice muttered. “How do you propose we do that, then?”

He threw a large file at her, which she opened. “Oberen Hazza? Who the fuck is that?”

“Maybe finish reading before you ask questions, Alice.”

Alice stuck out her tongue, pushed her glasses back up her nose, and read a bit more. “Kane’s right-hand man, eh?”

Solomon nodded and gave her a rare smile. “Right. The thing is, he’s a bit of a dumbass. Can’t really keep his mouth shut. If we monitor him, I bet within the day we’ll have at least an idea of where or when the next attack will be.”

“Says… he was last seen around Feldcroft,” Alice mused as she finished reading the report. “Quite far from Keenbridge, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Solomon agreed. “Perhaps he’s there to lay low for a while. No one would expect to find him up there. Not much happens in Feldcroft, really.”

“And how would you know?” She asked, smirking that annoying smirk again.

He sighed heavily. “I… have a little place up there.”

Alice snorted at that. “Honestly? I can’t imagine you living in a little farming community. Feels like you’d go mental.”

“Sometimes it feels that way.” Solomon sighed again, regretting the next words before he even said them. “Maybe we should go there. Stay while we look out for him. There’s room for two at my house.”

Idiot. Idiot! What in the name of Merlin are you thinking?!

“Sounds like a plan!” Alice grinned, and it seemed almost… sincere.

Solomon couldn’t help but think this was either the best or worst decision he’d made in his entire life.

#sallow sunday #fanfic #hogwarts legacy #hp fandom #slytherin #solomon sallow #alice bernadotte #hp oc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #fanfiction

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rickmandowneyjr · 3 years

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Cuts to Cope

Angst, fluff Pairing: Severus Snape and Student!Reader (platonic) Warning: talk of self-harm, mentions of character's death Word Count: 2348 A/N: This is a little piece I wrote a while ago but didn't know if I should post or not. After re-doing certain bits, I decided to upload it. Hope it's not too difficult to read. As always, the ending is a little abrupt and not too detailed, leaving it sort of up to y'all as well :) Sorry if there are any typos (I only ever get the time to write when it's quite late nowadays)

Yet another day at Hogwarts - waking up at 6:30 am, showering, getting dressed in your robes, and heading to breakfast. Wishing everyone you passed a good morning, wearing your signature smile as you did.

You were a 7th year, one of the few returning ones after last year's incident with Cedric Diggory. He'd been your best friend, or at least that's what people thought. Cedric Diggory and you had been dating for the last 7 months before his death. You didn't want anyone knowing because being star students meant eyes prying into every aspect of your relationship.

People praised you, a model student and now, prefect, who set an example. An example of how to be strong and cope no matter what life threw at you. Little did they know, you harboured a little secret. A dark, horrifying, and disturbing secret that would never let anyone look at you the same way if they ever found out.

Your first class for the day was Potions. You were a brilliant student, especially at Potions, yet Snape still had something against you. You didn't take it personally, though; he wasn't really fond of anyone. You walked into class, taking your regular seat at the front. Snape walked into class a little while later, slamming the door behind him, commanding everyone's attention.

"Turn to page 420," he drawled. You opened the book to find the recipe for Amortentia. Your heart felt a tug at the name of the love potion, never having been able to find out the answers with Cedric.

Snape's deep voice brought your focus back to class as he said, "Since it takes a week to brew, I've already completed most of the process. All you need to do is the last day's work," making the class sigh with relief. "However," he continued, "The last day of brewing is crucial and not easy. So, I expect your attention to be fully on the task at hand."

You began brewing the potion, following the steps perfectly. Snape sat down to grade papers as the class worked. He looked at you and said, "Ms. [L/N], roll up your sleeves while you work. I'd hate for there to be mishaps in my class because of one student's carelessness."

You hesitated, but then did as asked. You weren't the best at wandless magic but had made sure to perfect this spell solely for such instances. As you rolled your sleeves, you subtly waved your hand over your forearms, mumbling, "Illusiont," and casting the disillusionment charm.

You saw Snape narrow his eyes at you and panicked for a second before you saw him shake his head and return to grading. Breathing a sigh of relief, you returned to the task at hand and continued brewing.

After a while, you'd finished, and were the first one to have done so. Snape walked over to your desk and took a whiff of the potion, raising an eyebrow before giving you a single nod of approval, letting you know that it was perfect. Once everyone was done, he walked around, starting at the back, and asked everyone to announce what they smelled. You hadn't smelled your Amortentia yet and hadn't planned on doing so either, feeling quite relieved when Snape hadn't asked that question earlier.

Your heart rate quickened as you began to worry about how your body and mind would react to smelling it. You couldn't do it last year, since the Triwizard tournament had led to a bunch of classes being cancelled. As you thought about how excited you had been at the prospect of sharing the experience with Cedric, Snape's voice pulled you back to your potions class.

"Ms. [L/N]."

"Yes, sir?"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "What. Do. You. Smell," he spoke, irritation evident in every word.

You swallowed hard as you leaned forward to inhale the scent. Your pupils dilated, your heartbeat quickened and your knees threatened to give out at the all-too-familiar fragrance. Your throat went dry as you stopped the tears from forming.

"Well? We haven't got all day, class is to be dismissed soon." He raised an eyebrow at you, asking you to hurry up since you were the last one.

With every ounce of energy, you calmed yourself and stopped your voice from wavering. "Old books, butterscotch and... vanilla," you sighed. Your breathing was erratic and you knew you needed to get out of class and get to the abandoned girls' washroom.

As if on cue, the bell rang, dismissing the class. Snape gave you an odd look and was about to ask you what was wrong but you had already gathered your belongings and were marching out the door. He decided to follow you since he'd never seen you act like that before and was wondering what had happened to you all of a sudden.

You made your way up the stairs, hurrying before you had a breakdown in the middle of the hallway. As you reached the washroom, you started rummaging through your bag since the hallway was empty. You took the small blade that you carried around out, pushing the door to the bathroom open.

Snape's POV

I followed her out of the classroom. Though not my favourite, [Y/N] was an incredible witch and this wasn't normal behaviour for her. She'd marched out before I had even dismissed class which concerned me even more, given her usually 'perfect' behaviour. She paced through the hallways and up the stairs so fast that I could've sworn she was moving around faster than I did on a normal basis. There was an urgency in her stride and I don't know why, but it concerned me.

She finally turned into the hallway leading to the girls' washroom on the third floor, which was odd. No one used this, as far as I was aware. I was a little embarrassed, considering I'd just followed a young girl to a washroom. In an isolated area, at that. I swear I never would've imagined myself going even further and following her in, but what I'd seen had shocked and concerned me enough to do just that.

End of Snape's POV

As you entered the bathroom, you had missed Snape, whose eyes were wide with shock. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. [Y/N] [L/N], the golden girl of Hogwarts, had just walked into an abandoned washroom after pulling out a blade from her bag. Not wanting to jump to any conclusions, he rushed in, wanting to confirm what his eyes had just seen.

As you were about to enter a stall, the door to the bathroom, swung open, making you jump. You hid the blade by making a fist, unintentionally cutting into your palm. You winced at the unexpected pain but didn't let it show.

You turned to face Professor Snape, and he was eyeing your hand. 'There's no way he saw it, is there?' you thought.

"Ms. [L/N], care to show me your hands?"

You panicked. He knew. You tried to divert his attention. "Sir, this is the girls' washroom."

"I'm aware," he stated. "Now... Hands," he said as he glared at you, letting you know that he wouldn't fall for any attempts to change the subject.

You sighed and opened your hands, and saw his gaze soften. He walked to you taking your hand in his as he gently pulled the razor out. You winced as it came out, knowing this would impair you for the rest of your classes.

"What were you thinking?!" He scolded, startling you. He reached for your arm, rolling up your sleeves once again and muttered, "Finite."

The scars on your arms started showing up and you couldn't do anything but look away, your eyes resting anywhere but his gaze.

"So that was the Disillusionment Charm I heard you use, earlier."

You stayed silent, still refusing to meet his eyes. Of all the professors, it had to be him. Sure, he wasn't fond of you, but you had immense respect for the man, and to let him see you in this light... it took every bit of you to not lose your composure.

"Look at me," he said.

You turned to face him. His usually cold eyes showed too much concern and the uncharacteristic response from the potions master was proving to be a lot to handle. Tears stung your eyes as he stared at you.

"Why?" He asked, his voice so genuine that you couldn't help but let your emotions spill, creating a mess that you couldn't be bothered to care about anymore.

"I can't do this anymore," you sniffled. "I don't want to. He was everything to me and it just hurts so much."

"Who?"

"Cedric."

"Ah, yes. I'm aware you and Mr. Diggory were best friends. I'm sorry, [Y/N]."

"No," you said, finally being able to talk to someone about it. "He was my boyfriend. And... I never got to tell him I loved him... because I wasn't sure. Today just made it worse when I smelled him in my Amortentia. It confirmed that I did and I never got to say it." You were sobbing now, not caring what you looked like, what a mess you probably were, or what Snape was thinking of you and your confession.

You felt him awkwardly wrap his arms around you as he pulled your head to his chest. Your cries got louder and your wails of agony echoed in the empty washroom as your hands clutched the fabric of his robes. The feeling of someone comforting you was overwhelming. You'd always had to keep up this image of a perfect student, reliable friend, someone who could never have such horrifying tendencies.

Even then, as you cried out loud, your instinct made you bury your face in his chest, muffling the 'ugly' sobs. Snape's heart broke as your thoughts flooded his mind. As you struggled to breathe, he turned your head slightly, making you audible again. He didn't hush you; just stroked your hair as your tears soaked his robes.

It took a while, but you finally calmed down, your sobs reducing to soft whimpers before they died out entirely. Your throat was sore, and lips, chapped from all the crying. Your eyes were red and puffy, and the reality of the situation finally came crashing down on you.

Your secret was out. More than one, at that. One of the professors knew, and the strictest one too. You had just spent Merlin knows how long crying into his chest, which was now soaked with your tears.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, your voice, hoarse. "Your robes are all wet now," you said, trying to move away.

"That's the least of my worries right now," he said, keeping your head in place as he continued, "I understand what you're going through. Better than you'd know." It sounded like it was painful for him to talk about it, the tone of his voice giving the vulnerability away. "But this is not the way to deal with it," he said as rubbed your back.

"Does it go away?"

"I'll be honest," he sighed. "It does get lesser with time if you allow yourself to heal. However, it never goes away entirely. A part of you will always love and miss him. I'm sorry," he said.

"No, I'm glad. I don't want to forget him. Or my love for him. Cedric Diggory was and will always be - my first love."

You finally pulled away from his chest and looked him in the eyes as he gave you a gentle smile. You managed to muster a somber one and sighed.

"Do any of your friends know?"

"Merlin, no!"

"Why not? They're your friends. They could-"

"I can't have this getting out. Everyone will-"

"Who cares what people think?" He raised his voice. It was silent for a while before he sighed and spoke again.

"[Y/N], I want you to promise me something."

You knew what was coming. You gulped and nodded softly.

"I want you to promise me that you'll stop this. Cedric wouldn't want this for you."

"I know, and I've tried before. It's not that simple-"

"I know," he said, cutting you off. "Which is why, the next time you get the urge to do this, you'll come to me. No matter what the situation might be."

You were surprised at his words. It was incredibly nice of him to offer this to you, and you nodded, accepting his generosity.

"Also," he continued, "Please stop going to such great lengths to please others and worrying about what others think. It's not healthy."

"But-"

"But nothing. Your health is suffering and you can't even bring yourself to tell anyone because you're so busy keeping up this little charade of 'everything is fine'."

You stayed silent. There was truth in his words and you couldn't refute his accusations. You just looked up at him, once again, finding the uncharacteristic concerned look meeting your gaze. Nodding softly, you agreed. How could you not when someone had shown you such consideration and compassion?

A small smile graced his usually stoic face as he helped you up, and you both made your way out of the bathroom. He escorted you back to your dormitories, ensuring you were alright before the two of you parted ways.

The rest of the school year passed and Snape stayed true to his word, and you to yours. Every time you felt the urge to hurt yourself to relieve the pain, you'd find Snape. He was patient and helped you every step of the way. Slowly, but surely, you were able to overcome your urges and also found yourself living for yourself, rather than up to others' expectations.

By the time you graduated, you had overcome the habit and thanked Snape in your graduation speech, never giving away the details as to why. A lot of people had assumed there was something between the two of you, especially since you went to meet him all through the school year, but you didn't let it bother you, because... Who cares what people think, right?

P.S. - Sorry I've been a little slow with the writing. My college assignments have started rolling in and I'm currently swamped. Also, I'm working on a little something (announcing it in 2-3 days so make sure to check in lol). Rest assured, I'm slowly and steadily making my way through requests. Thank you for understanding <3

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shi-daisy · 3 years

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An Unexpected Outcome

Hello everyone! I'm really excited to participate on the first Wavewave week, I'm new to the fandom but this pair is really cute and I've been wanting to write for them for a while. Apologies if I get some details mixed up, it's been a while since I've seen the series in full. Hope you like the fic!

Continuity and timeframe: TFP/RiD continuity, after Soundwave is taken into custody for trial.

@wavewave-week

Wavewave Week- Day 1- Reunited

Shockwave was not expecting any kind of visitors at all. His labs were scattered precisely so that he could move around without being discovered, but now that could change.

His security system only detected the presence of a single mech, and if it was who he was thinking of, then perhaps there's be no danger in letting him in, especially in such a critical state.

As he walked the cold halls of his labs both uncertainty and worry began to build within him. If his visitor was as injured as he looked, he might not have much time. But then again, had survived the Shadowzone.

Finally, Shockwave reached the door. He decided to take a chance and open it. His single red optic locked into a deep gaze with his visitor, Soundwave.

The mech looked different. His frame had changed, along with some of his color, yet Shockwave could still recognize the blank faceplate which said so much with so little.

"Shockwave-"

He had never heard the other mech's voice before, it was soft and musical, just like him. Soundwave collapsed into his arms before he could say anything else. Laserbeak was with him, and immediately separated from it's host.

The mini con seemed to be silently pleading to Shockwave. He nodded.

"I am not a medic, but I shall help your host. Come, we must hurry."

He picked up the mech in his arms, ready to operate on him, hoping it would be enough.

***

Soundwave woke up to the sound of voices and rain. It took a while for his vision to return, but he could hear Laserbeak beeping along with Shockwave's voice.

"I've told you, I'm not upset, merely puzzled. I guess there's a first time for everything..."

Laserbeak spoke again, even in his critical state, Soundwave could understand the mini-con. He deduced Shockwave could understand him too via translator.

'Soundwave knew you were the only person we could trust. The others are lomg gone, and Megatron is still missing. We couldn't risk getting captured again.'

"That I can understand, little one, what puzzles me is the fact that you'd be so certain I could assist you."

'Soundwave thinks highly of you, that's probably why he came here after our escape.'

Before Laserbeak could say more, Soundwave sat up and tried to get out of the berth. Both bots noticed.

"Soundwave, you're still injured. Remain seated."

He obeyed, staying still in hopes that it could make the room stop spinning. The scientist walked towards him, looking over his condition.

"It seems you're recuperating adequately. Your vitals were very low when you arrived. We thought you might perish."

Soundwave nodded. "I thought so too. Sorry for coming unannounced, but you're the only mech I knew wouldn't return me to them."

"Yes, Laserbeak has told me. You were taken into custody by the Autobots... I'm assuming they've told you what happened to the cause, and to the others."

He nodded again, not bothering to hide his anger. "Most of them are dead, Knockout betrayed us and Lord Megatron is missing."

"The last time I saw him he went into self impossed exile. I haven't been able to track him. My apologies."

Soumdave looked at the scientist. "How did you know I was looking for him?"

"You were the most loyal among our ranks. It is only logical that he'd be the one you seek out first upon escaping the Shadowzone."

"Guess I am really predictable." He chuckled blankly.

He thought the Autobots had been lying about this. That Megatron was still out there rallying forces for the Decep to rise again, but now he knew he was wrong. If Shockwave confirmed it, then it must've been true.

"Aside from us, is there anyone left?"

"I cannot say, I've been changing laboratory locations frequently to avoid being tracked, and the only other con I know to be alive has made no effort to contact me."

"Other con...Starscream? He's alive?"

"As far as I know, yes. We lived together for a time when we thought Lord Megatron had perished, then he returned but soon went into exile, I haven't seen him since."

Soundwave didn't know what to make of that story, or of the seemingly saddened tone Shockwave's voice had. Was he sad that the seeker had left? He was certain those two hated eachother. Perhaps things had change during his time in the Shadowzone.

It quickly dawned on him that what Shockwave seemed to hate was the loneliness. There were no predacons or vehicons in the lab, no other cons or even mini cons to keep him company. Even someone as closed of as him coveted some company.

"Where are we?"

"Earth, I relocated when you found me. We're deep in a rainforest on the Caribbean islands. No human or Cybertronian shall be able to track us here."

Soundwave laughed. "As expected you're always prepared for the worst."

"It's only logical that I do that. Especially now since I'm certain all of Cybertron is looking for you."

"That's true...I was hoping I could stay here with you, if you'd allowed me to."

Shockwave was surprised, it was an expression he didn't see often. Eventually he spoke.

"You may stay with me, but I have a condition."

"Sure, what is it?"

"You shall provide me with information about the Shadowzone once your health improves."

"It's a deal then. I'll tell you everything you want."

Soundwave felt himself grow tired, even if all he had done was talk, Shockwave seemed to notice. In a gentle manner, which was uncharacteristic for him, he helped Soundwave lie down and even covered him with a blanket.

"Recharge, we can speak more later."

"Gotcha..Shockwave."

"Yes?"

"I'm not leaving, not unless you tell me to."

That was all he managed to say before falling asleep again.

***

"Not a word." Shockwave glared at the avian mini-con who silently observed and listened to the entire conversation.

'I haven't said anything.'

"All the same. Stay quiet. I'm... going back to work. You should recharge with your host."

Laserbeak obeyed, going back to his place upon Soundwave.

Shockwave observed them for a while. As the tapping of the rain grew louder it seemed to numb his thoughts.

Why had agreed to let him stay? Surely housing prisoner would put a strain on his plans, not to mention that he hadn't been particularly close to him before. Yet one look at the sleeping mech immediately answered that inquiry.

He was probably growing soft. It wasn't something he liked, but the thought of having someone else around didn't bother him. This outcome was unexpected, but Shockwave planned to make the best of it. With one last look at his new housemates, the purple mech left the room, deciding it was time to continue working.

Even with his best efforts however, he couldn't stop about the last words Soundwave had spoken to him today.

#wavewave #wavewave week #shockwave #soundwave #laserbeak #one shot #mini fic

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 3 years

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Hold Me Close

John Constantine x Original Female Character, Angst/Hurt Comfort

A/N: So this little bit of self-indulgence turned into a thing, because it's me and of course it did. I'm still in the early stages of developing Evie and her relationships, so please let me know what you think.

Warning: Mentions of child neglect, lots of crying

Summary: After an emotionally draining day, Evie finds herself with some unexpected company.

Word Count: 2.6K

The Waverider was completely silent, a rarity on the best of days, and a blessed relief to Evie.

She sat in the kitchen, holding a warm cup of tea in her hands. She hadn't taken a single sip in the fifteen minutes since she made it.

All the emotions of the day were simmering to the surface. A tightness clung to her throat making it hard for her to breath. She needed to cry. She needed to sleep. She needed to scream. She needed so many things, all she could do was sit and stare into nothing.

"Are you ever going to drink that?"

Evie blinked. Looking up, she finally noticed John leaning against the doorway, fully dressed in his usual white shirt and tie.

"John? What time is it? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

She wanted to say something smart. On any other day she might have, but she was just too tired to be clever. Instead, she raised her mug to her lips and finally took a sip.

It was warm and did its job, loosening the lump in her throat, but it did little to help with the one in her chest.

"Need something stronger?" John suggested.

She shook her head. "This is about as strong as I can handle right now."

"Fair enough."

She expected that to be the end of it. But he surprised her, walking into the kitchen and pouring himself a drink.

"What are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Well, you know what they say, misery loves company."

"And what have you got to be miserable about?"

He gave her a cynical smile. "Oh don't you worry love, I’ll think of something."

He took a seat beside her and raised his glass in a toast.

Evie obliged, clicking her mug against the tumbler before drinking.

They sat in silence for a moment. It was comfortable, but there were questions hanging in the air that needed to be addressed.

"What are you doing here, John?"

"I told you."

She shot him a skeptical look.

He let out a sigh. "I don't sleep most nights. I saw you in here and..." He met her eyes, his expression softening. "I saw the look on your face when you saw your mum."

The tightness came back in her throat. Quickly, she turned back to her tea and took a long swig. All it did was stall the inevitable.

"How much did Michael tell you?" she asked, with a twist in her stomach.

"Not much," he admitted. "Just that his dad died before he knew him, didn't talk to his mum and that his sister was about the only parent he ever really had."

Evie huffed out a short laugh. It certainly sounded like the description Michael would give, and a more accurate one than she was willing to admit before.

"I take it there's a bit more to it than that," he continued.

She nodded. "Just a bit."

She took a drink, once again assuming a natural end to the conversation.

"You're just going to leave me with that?" he asked.

Her brow furrowed. "Why do you want to know?"

"You seem to know most everything about me, whether I like it or not,” he answered, casually. “I like to work on an even playing field."

Evie considered him for a moment. It seemed like a reasonable answer. Still she couldn't help but feel her problems were childish compared to his. There was a reason she kept them to herself. Nobody actually wanted to know.

She turned her head away, her fingers rubbing absentmindedly against the mug. If she kept her mouth shut for just a few moments, he'd forget the whole thing.

She could feel the pressure building behind her eyes. Her grip tightened. She willed herself to breathe.

"Evelyn..."

She stopped.

Looking down, she finally noticed rough fingers pressed gently around her wrist. She followed the line connecting the fingers to a hand, then to an arm, moving her gaze ever up until she dared a glance at the man they were attached to.

John’s expression was not soft, but his eyes held something she had not seen in a long time; a need to understand. How could she say no to that?

“My dad died when I was eight,” she began, swallowing the roughness of her voice. “My mum took it really hard. She might as well have been dead that first year. I’m not sure she even left her bed. Gran watched after her and didn’t want me or Michael causing trouble.

“Eventually though Mum was able to leave the house and Gran even got her a job at a pub not far from where we lived. But, it didn’t last long. Mum just...wasn’t there anymore. She’d forget to go into work or mess up orders or any number of other things until eventually they had to let her go. She didn’t work after that. Dad’s life insurance kept us afloat and Gran helped so, it wasn’t like we were starving. Even so, she would still...forget. By the time I was ten I was cooking most of the meals and made sure to stop by the shop on my way home from school, that sort of thing. And Mum would just...drift. It was like living with a ghost.”

Evie paused, giving herself a moment to collect her thoughts.

“I can remember my dad, before he died. I can see his face. I remember bedtime stories and how he called me his little Evie Rose. But, for whatever reason, any time I try to remember what my mum was like, I draw a blank. Every memory I have of her is as this...corpse. It was easy for me to believe she was always like that. I convinced myself she couldn’t help it. She didn’t choose not to be there. She was trying and I just needed to pick up where she couldn’t. That was my job.”

Her throat tightened. She sucked in a breath and let it out with a slow quaver.

“But seeing her today, before...everything. She was real. She was real and alive and...there.”

Warm tears spilled down her face. She wiped them away, trying and failing to keep them in check.

“I know grief affects people differently. I know it does. I can’t imagine losing the love of my life like that. But I was her child. Michael was just three years old. We were alive and scared and confused, and we needed her. I needed my Mom and she wouldn’t…”

There was no stopping the tears now. Anger and resentment and grief twenty six years in the making poured out of her. It burned her skin, even if she tried to hide it, ever aware of the man watching her in careful silence.

“I spent so long telling myself it wasn’t her fault. I blamed myself for not doing better by her. But she never cared. I know she was grieving, but at some point she decided her grief was more important than her own children.”

She stopped, forcing herself to fill her lungs with much needed air.

“And I would get so angry. I used to think Michael was just being selfish, that he only cared about himself. But he knew. He knew what she was doing was wrong. He just wanted me to see it too. God, I said so many awful things.”

Guilt weighed in her stomach as she pushed away her straggling tears. She could still feel the prickling behind her eyes, but she didn’t want to spill any more than she had. She had no right to them.

“I’m just a horrible mess of a person.”

A scoff came at her side.

She turned, to see John shaking his head.

“Something funny?”

“Aye, everything,” he said, sardonically. “Trust a Catholic to come to that conclusion.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh c’mon Evie, you’re not a horrible anything. You looked after your brother and your mum when no one else would. When you should have given up on her is a matter for yourself to deal with, but you’re not a bad person for holding out hope. As for Michael, I have a feeling he’s not as resentful as you think he is. Besides, he definitely had some of it coming.”

Evie couldn’t think of what to say, but the corner of her lip did quirk up, just a little. Still, guilt lingered and exhaustion was now taking the place of her anger. The prickling was back, reminding her of the tears still left to shed.

“Now, how about that drink,” John said.

Evie let out a long sigh, rubbing her hand across her face. "Not a bad idea. Honestly, what I could really go for is someone to just hold me for two or three...hours." She tried to make it sound like a joke, but the strain on her voice made her attempt at laughter come off as forced and awkward.

The look on John's face only made her feel worse. He had been uncharacteristically kind to her already. Now, she just made an embarrassing situation down right uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry I laid this all on you,” she said. “I should just go to bed.”

She stood quickly, not even bothering to grab her mug as she headed towards the exit.

She barely made it two steps when a hand grasped at her own.

“Wait.”

She turned.

He was still sitting. His eyes focused on their intertwined fingers. The expression on his face was unreadable. For a moment, she thought he’d let go and forget the whole thing. But then, he came to a decision.

Standing, he took a step toward her, never dropping his grip for a moment. He watched her, carefully checking she had no objections to how close he was.

Her stillness was his answer.

Reaching out his free hand, he cradled her head and guided her to him.

For a moment, neither of them knew what to do.

His hand slipped from hers, but found no place to land, as if he wasn't sure where exactly to touch her. All the same, the intent was felt.

Taking initiative, she leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him.

His clothes still held the scent of detergent with just a bit the tobacco smoke she secretly loved. She let herself breathe it in, enjoying the warmth against her cheek and the firmness of his body.

Slowly his hands found purpose. One wrapped tight around her waist while the other curled gently in her hair.

For a while, they just stood there, neither of them daring to break the quiet calm that had settled in the air.

"It's alright Eves," John whispered into her ear. "I've got you, love. It's alright."

It was only then Evie realized she was crying again. The tears and emotions leaked out of her, spilling over the side like an over filled sink. She was starting to shake, trying and failing to keep her breath in check all the while John held on, pressing her even closer into him.

"You're alright," he promised. "I've got you, Eves. You're alright."

The tears weren’t as violent as before. This was catharsis. The last breath of emotional release she needed. So, she let herself feel.

She cried for her brother. She cried for her father. She cried for what might have been and what was. All of it came out in gentle sobs made bearable by the man who wouldn’t let go.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but after a while she had nothing more to give. Her breath returned to something manageable. Her heart, no longer quiet as heavy. Still, she couldn’t pull away from John just yet. She was too tired and he felt too good. She could see herself closing her eyes and staying right there until her legs gave out.

“Not that I’ve got anywhere to be,” he said, gently. “But were you serious about the two to three hours thing?”

She laughed, a real one this time; short, but bright and welcome.

“No,” she assured. “I wouldn’t do that to your reputation.”

He didn’t say anything back, but she took the hint.

With a great effort, she pulled herself from him, leaving her skin colder for it. Now that she had a proper view, a sudden spike of embarrassment shot through her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, immediately reaching to brush away the obvious stain on his shirt.

John looked down as if just noticing himself.

“Oh believe me, I’ve been covered in worse. Besides, holy woman’s oughta be good for something.”

“I’m not that holy,” she said, with not as much annoyance as that sentence usually carried.

“But you are good,” he countered. “You can’t be anything else.”

Again, something was missing from this usual exchange. The irony had somehow disappeared. The way he was looking at her now, she could believe he meant them.

Then, something happened. His expression became pensive. His eyes shifted away as he took a small step back, putting some visible distance between them.

“You should get some sleep,” he said, his tone now back to its usual guarded self.

Her brow creased in confusion. “You sure you don’t want company?”

“I think if this whole exercise has taught us anything it’s that you need to stop worrying about other people all the time.”

His tone was curt, but there was something performative in it, making it land awkwardly on its intended audience.

All the same, Evie knew rejection when she heard it and felt the intended hurt in her chest.

Apparently it showed on her face as John gave a long sigh. “Look just, get some rest and you can worry about me tomorrow, yeah?”

She nodded, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave just yet. She didn’t know what she had done to make John’s mood shift so abruptly, but she needed to fix it. He had helped her, after all. It didn’t feel right to end the night like this.

With cautious determination, she took a step forward, effectively closing the gap he had created.

John appeared frozen in place, his brow creased in confusion.

Taking the opportunity, she stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek. She was met with rough stubble and the smell of whiskey, a combination she was surprised to find she liked. But couldn’t appreciate it as John turned his head, meeting her eyes.

“Now, why would you do something like that?”

Evie swallowed, a sudden dryness coming to her throat. His lips were much closer to hers than she anticipated.

“I just wanted to say, thank you,” she said, softly. “You’re a good man, John Constantine.”

He looked down at her, his throat and lip tightening as he shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

She smiled knowingly. “Yes you are.”

She kissed his cheek again, this time lingering just a moment as if touch would convey the truth of her statement more than her words could.

“Goodnight, John,” she whispered.

To her surprise, he didn’t push her away. His eyes lingered, floating between her eyes and lips and back again.

She held her breath, wondering if he would lean down and feel her lips for himself. She wondered if she would let him.

But he hesitated. A breath was drawn in and his gaze settled on her eyes.

“Sweet dreams, Evie.”

She nodded, feeling the moment slip away as quickly as it had come.

She settled back down on two solid feet, turned and walked back to her room without looking back. Only when the door closed did she allow herself to linger on the burning of her lips and the hard thumping in her chest.

She didn’t know what truly happened between her and John, but there was no use denying it. Something was different and time would only tell what that meant.

#legends of tomorrow #legends of tomorrow oc #arrowverse #arrowverse oc #john constantine #john constantine x oc #john constantine x reader #evelyn doyle

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mintymiknow · 4 years

Text

[ Unexpected ]

This drabble is part of the 50 Kisses Drabble Challenge! [ Requested: Number 33 + Chan ]

Number 33: An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it

A/N: Slowly getting back into writing, so please be patient and bear with me hehehehe. Anyway, this was actually inspired by a dream I had a few nights ago. Seriously. I don’t know why I had a dream like this, but I’m not complaining. Enjoy!

* [ high school au ]

The sound of sneakers squeaking against the gym’s floor echoed throughout the room, coupled along with excited shouting from the students.

P.E. wasn’t your favorite class, but you didn’t deny that you had the best teacher for it. Your teacher always found a way to make sure his students enjoyed P.E. time, switching it up between lessons and fun “free-time”. Today, you see, was one of those “free-time” classes. What better way to spend it playing dodgeball, right?

One of your classmates, Jisung, yells at Minho for throwing the ball a bit too aggressively. This prompts the taller boy to giggle, raising his hand as if apologizing. A bit too preoccupied with watching the two playfully bicker as usual, you completely forget that you’re still in the game.

Felix takes the chance to lightly toss the ball; you notice it in the nick of time, but Changbin bumps into you as he moves to the side, making you lose balance and unable to dodge the ball. It hits your arm, and your teacher calls your name with a smile, indicating you were out.

“Sorry, y/n!” Changbin calls out, eyes still on the players throwing the ball.

You chuckle, throwing him a peace-sign as you walk to the sidelines, “No problem! Win for the team, Bin!”

Changbin laughs, fully focused on the game. You take a seat next to Seungmin who was also already out of the game. The male grins at you, “Loser.”

“Says you.” you play along, laughing.

“Hyunjin made me trip.” Seungmin counters with a puppy-like smile.

“Yeah? Changbin blocked my way.”

“Fair enough.”

Suddenly, your classmates erupt in boisterous cheers, a variety of “whoa” and “what the” words being thrown around. Your teacher yells a quick “nice one Chan!” before clapping his hands like a proud father.

You and Seungmin turn your attention back to the game to see what everyone was yelling about. Apparently, Chan had caught the ball as Jeongin aimed it him. The dimpled-smile that graced the male’s lips made you giggle to yourself, amused as to how happy he was with his little achievement.

Chan calls Hyunjin back into the game, but the next round, Chan catches the ball again and calls Jisung back. It would seem like the team stops aiming for Chan since they know he’d catch it anyway, so the game goes back to normal.

You don’t really know why, but despite the fact that Jisung and Changbin were the loudest players, your eyes would inevitable gravitate towards Chan.

It was no secret that you were close to all eight boys, often hanging out and studying with the group, but there was an undeniably heavy tension between you and Chan. Yes, you were the closest among the group, but that also brought about the most awkward and nerve-wrecking situations.

For sure that meant you liked him right?

But Chan was always friendly and charming, so you never knew how to read his actions and intentions towards you. What a fool you’d be if you assumed the male had feelings for you just because he was extra gentle or extra sweet to you.

Right?

You, once again, are distracted by thought of Chan’s adorable smile that you don’t realize that the ball was flying towards your direction. “Y/n!” Hyunjin yells.

It snaps you out of your haze, but by the time your attention is restored, the ball is just about to smack your head. Thankfully, Seungmin reacts for you, whacking it back to the players. They continue to play, but you are oblivious to the look of worry that flashed right across Chan’s eyes.

You give Seungmin’s shoulder a light pat and laugh, “Thanks Minnie.”

“What would you do without me, y/n? My goodness.” he jokes, earning another laugh from you.

Because the remaining players are so competitive and your teacher seems to be enjoying the match, the game goes on and on and on. So, you end up babbling with Seungmin, talking about the upcoming midterm exams.

And as the game draws on, the players become more competitive and creative. They come up with new and pretty much weird ways to toss the ball, and well…the ones dodging come up with equally unique and weird ways to dodge the ball. Why did Changbin have to lift Jisung to dodge it again? And why did Minho have to go Dragon Ball-Z on the ball when he tried to hit Hyunjin?

But then that also meant that the ball would be flying everywhere, so technically even your teacher and the players who were out had to dodge the ball somehow. Funny.

And of course, the ball would keep coming towards you several times, but because you were too absorbed with ranting about how stressed and nervous you were for exams, you never reacted quick enough, making Seungmin deflect the ball for you each time.

Eventually, you both made a joke about it and laughed every time it happened; a cute little inside joke between you two, perhaps, and it made you both smile like children every time. Chan wasn’t blind to see the way you laughed your heart out while smacking Seungmin’s shoulder from the way your stomach started to hurt. He wasn’t blind to the way your eyes became crescents, tears threatening to escape every time Seungmin made some remark.

And it tore at his heart, for some reason. Something ticked in him. Now, Chan was always understanding and pretty much a “chill” person; he knew that the irritated feeling boiling inside him was an immature thing, but he didn’t have control over it, especially when you hugged Seungmin over another joke he made.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away, so Minho took the chance to hit him with the ball, effectively removing him from the game. Felix laughs at this, doing a little victory dance as Changbin stares in disbelief. Chan walks to the sidelines a bit sulkily, completely unaware of the soft giggle that escapes your lips as you watch him sit down with pouted lips. Cute.

When the class ended and everyone showered and changed into fresh clothes, you found yourself sitting by one of the outdoor tables near the track-and-field oval. You were reviewing for the upcoming exams while enjoying the breeze and shade the trees offered. You looked up for a second as some students began to leave the campus and head home after dismissal.

You see Minho, Changbin and Jisung racing towards the gates while Jeongin and Hyunjin watch them calmly. You knew Seungmin had matters to attend to while Felix had an extracurricular class. Where was Chan?

Just as you asked yourself that question, Chan was walking down some steps nearby, just about ready to go home too. He was on his phone, other hand shoved into his uniform pockets. “Channie!” you call out from where you were seated, waving.

Chan looks up, an ambiguous expression on his face. Nonetheless, he walks towards you, stopping right in front of the table. “You’re going home already?” you ask.

Chan nods, “Yeah, gotta study.”

“We can study together.” you chuckle, patting the spot next to you, “I don’t like studying alone.”

Chan seems to be in deep thought - much too deep - but in the end, he gives in and silently takes a seat next to you. You scoot a bit closer, pointing to a graph on the page of your textbook. “I’m stuck on this problem. I’m pretty sure Seungmin told me how to solve it before, but I forgot some bits.” you laugh, expecting Chan to tease you as he always did.

But at the mention of Seungmin’s name, despite being his own close friend, Chan’s lips dissolve into a slight scowl, eyebrows knitted together as he reads the problem from the textbook. “It should be solved in this manner…” he trails off, grabbing your pencil and showing you the solution as he writes on your notebook.

You pay close attention to what he was doing, and as soon as he finishes solving, you grin brightly, “You’re a genius!”

“Nah, just a little.” is what Chan would usually say, but right now, he just gives you a half-hearted smile and shrugs. Your hearts falls just a little, lips pouted as you tilt your head.

“Is something wrong? You’re uncharacteristically quiet and…tensed-up.” you say, lightly poking his bicep.

You don’t miss the subtle way his jaw clenches, but you don’t say anything. “Just tired.” Chan offers another small smile before pursing his lips.

“Chan…”

A deafening silence stretches between the two of you, and just as you open your mouth to say something, Chan suddenly turns to you with serious eyes. “Are you and Seungmin dating?” he blurts out, mentally regretting his actions.

You look at Chan with wide eyes, coughing on air as your mouth opens and closes when you try to speak. In the end, you laugh loudly, lightly slapping his shoulder. “No, we’re not dating. Seungmin has a crush on someone else, I know who. We’re just friends, just like I am with Minho, Jisung, Jeongin, Hyunjin, Changbin and Felix…and - ”

And you, Chan? No, you had a crush on him. He wasn’t just a friend to you. But were you going to let him know that?”

“ - and, why did you ask?” you suddenly change the topic.

Chan takes note of how you don’t mention him, but he replies with, “It just seems like you are.”

You can’t seem to understand why the male sounded so dejected and bitter, so you try to lighten the mood by joking around. “You jealous? You like me, don’t you? I wouldn’t be surprised, you know? I am the best person, after all.” you smile cheekily.

There’s no point in going back right? Chan stupidly asked if you were dating Seungmin, so he might as well risk everything.

“Yes.” he says plainly, staring at your eyes with intensity, “I am, in fact, jealous because I like you.”

Well, that is not what you were expecting.

“You…?” you laugh awkwardly, feeling your cheeks turn bright red, “You like…?”

You don’t miss the quick smirk that etches itself on Chan’s lips before he sighs and rolls his eyes. Before you can react, Chan leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your lips. You feel like you were hit by a dozen trains and shocked with lightning at his sudden gesture.

When Chan pulls away with his dorky smile now on his lips, you look at him with a shocked expression, gasping a bit too dramatically as you point a finger. “You!” you gasp again, “Did you just…?”

“Do you want another one?”

But it also felt nice to have his soft lips finally on yours, you admit.

“Yes.” you nod timidly, trying to hold back a smile and completely failing.

Chan chuckles, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer. His other hand gently tucks a strand of lose hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek. Then he leans in, pressing his lips more definitively this time.

With your eyes closed and hands on his shoulders as you kissed him back, you were definitely not expecting these turn of events.

Unexpected but you weren’t complaining. You loved it.

#stray kids #chan #bang chan #chan scenario #chan imagine #chan drabble #bang chan scenario #bang chan imagine #bang chan drabble #skz #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagine #stray kids drabble #scenario #imagine #drabble #chan x reader #bang chan x reader #50 kisses drabble challenge

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westallenfun · 3 years

Text

A Most Unexpected Love, Chapter 1

WestAllen secret santa gift

From: @jade4813

For: @sophisticatedloserchick

Author Notes: For the lovely @sophisticatedloserchick from @jade4813! Merry Christmas, and I hope you like my first fic after a long hiatus!

Title: A Most Unexpected Love

Rating: PG

Synopsis: Iris has loved Eddie Thawne Allen her entire life. When she returns home just before Christmas, it looks like she might finally have a chance to catch his eye…unless an accident puts his older brother, Barry, directly in her path. Story inspired by Sabrina (with some quotes lifted more or less directly from the source material).

Chapters: 1/7

Chapter One

For almost as long as she could remember, Iris Ann West had been in love with Eddie Thawne Allen. That it was utterly hopeless was a lesson she had learned at the tender age of eleven, but since she had lost her heart to him at age six, that knowledge hardly did any good. Eddie – or Eobard, named after a great-great-great-grandfather or some such; Iris could never remember, but it was far too stodgy of a name for him anyway – was the younger son of Henry and Nora Allen, her father’s wealthy employers. So of course he was leagues above her. But that didn’t matter; her love had never been dependent upon reciprocation. For most of her life, she had been content to worship him from afar.

She would never forget the moment he had first captured her heart. They had just moved into the Allens’ home – her dad having just started his new job as the head of their security team – when the gardener’s son, Christopher, had stolen her favorite toy. Four years older (and a good foot taller) than she was, Christopher had taunted her with his prize, dangling it over her head and pulling it out of her reach in an attempt to make her cry. Iris had been about to punch him in the nose for his trouble, since her father’s lessons on self-defense extended beyond his employers – when Eddie had appeared out of nowhere. He’d retrieved her toy from her tormenter, offered the other boy a stern word of warning, and handed it back to her with a kind smile.

It was in that moment that Iris’s heart had been lost. He had swooped in from out of nowhere to save the day, and it didn’t matter that her day didn’t actually need saving. He’d been her hero nevertheless. He had been like a knight in the fairy tales her mother had read her when she was younger; all tall and blonde and perfect.

Of course, since he was the younger son of the family and she was the daughter of a member of staff, Eddie and Iris seldom interacted. He often seemed oblivious to her very existence, in fact, but that did nothing to quell her devotion to him. She was content to watch from the sidelines as he charmed children and adults alike, always shining like the brightest star in every room he occupied. She marveled at his easy manners and infectious smile, and as she grew older, she imagined what it would be like to have that smile turned upon her.

On the other hand, his brother Bartholomew – three years older than Eddie and herself – couldn’t have been more different. Where Eddie was easy-going, Bartholomew was reserved. Where Eddie approached life with a laugh and consequences with a devil-may-care attitude, his brother approached each decision with careful deliberation. And where Eddie lit up every room he entered, Bartholomew tended to remain on the sidelines. Rarely penetrating her conscious awareness, at least when Eddie was around.

Iris didn’t have any reason to dislike the elder brother. In fact, he’d always been unfailingly polite to her. One day, shortly after they’d moved in, he’d caught Iris reading in the garden and had invited her to borrow from his family’s library in a surprisingly thoughtful gesture. He had offered to teach her how to ride a horse – a proposal she’d quickly declined because horses had frightened her at that age. When she was ill, he brought by soup prepared by their chef, and she always found gifts he had chosen for her and her father under the tree at Christmas.

But all of that was to be expected, she supposed. Bartholomew (who had asked her to call him Barry years and years ago, but that seemed entirely too informal for him) was Henry and Nora’s oldest child. He would take over the family businesses in due course. He was only doing what someone in his situation would be expected to do. And so it was that Iris was content to fan the flames of her one-sided infatuation of Eddie while maintaining a polite if distance cordiality with Bartholomew. Until one fateful day when she was sixteen.

She had been walking through the woods when she somehow stepped badly, tripped over a root, and rolled her ankle on the way down. Unable to bite back her sharp cry of distress, Iris had fought back tears as she cradled the injured area, in too much pain to put weight on it so that she could return home.

Then, out of the woods, like an angel come down from Heaven, he had appeared to act as her hero once more, Bartholomew at his side. They had been strolling nearby when they’d heard her cry out and had rushed to her aid. Eddie hadn’t even hesitated before he kneeling next to her, asking if she was okay, while his brother had stood back a bit, watching her in concern. He had said nothing as Eddie verified that her ankle indeed seemed sprained, but Iris didn’t really care. Eddie was there, mere inches away, cradling her ankle in his lap and staring at her with those blue, blue eyes. Bartholomew could have been on the moon for all she’d noticed him.

Pain or no pain, she could have stayed like that all day, except that Eddie had jumped to his feet and offered to fetch her father to come help. “Oh, no, that’s not necessary,” she’d protested, aching at the all-too-brief encounter.

Meanwhile, Bartholomew had begun in his typical, reasonable tone, “We could probably—”

But Eddie wasn’t listening. “I’ll be right back!” he’d promised before turning and darting back towards home, and Iris had let out a frustrated sigh. Bartholomew had followed suit, his attention darting from Iris to his brother’s back before looking at Iris again.

She hadn’t known what he was thinking; but, then, she’s rarely thought about Bartholomew at all and had in fact almost forgotten his presence until he’d spoken again. “It may be a while for him to find your dad, and you can’t just sit out here indefinitely. Do you think you could walk a little if I helped support your weight?”

It had been (naturally, given the speaker) a perfectly reasonable solution, but Iris was unjustly irritable at him for having made it. She’d been hoping Eddie would return to sweep her into his arms and carry her back home himself. Sure, it seemed unlikely he would do so, and she certainly hadn’t twisted her ankle with any such plan in mind. But she’d thought it would have been nice. Indeed, it would have been the perfect opportunity for her to get closer to Eddie (if he’d only return without her dad in tow), and now his brother was ruining it.

She’d let out a small huff of frustration. “I guess,” she’d grumbled rather churlishly. Bartholomew had blinked a few times, seemingly taken aback by her mood, but he’d moved to crouch at her side nonetheless. Moving slowly, with almost uncharacteristic uncertainty, he had wrapped his arm around her waist and steadied her as she lumbered to her feet. When she let out a soft hiss of pain at putting weight on her injured ankle, he had shifted his hold on her so that he was carrying a greater amount of her weight on that side.

Setting her chin in a determined angle, Iris had hobbled forward several steps, feeling a little guilty about her uncharitable thoughts as she wished it was Eddie by her side. Even still, she couldn’t help but be annoyed that it was Bartholomew instead. Why hadn’t he gone for help and left his brother behind? Then things would have been perfect. Her pain would have been worth it.

She’d let out a heavy sigh of frustration, and she felt Bartholomew shift his hold on her again. “Are you okay? Do you need to take a break?”

“No, I just – ow!” she’d cried out, so distracted by thoughts of how wonderful it would be if she was spending this time with Eddie that she stepped wrong and caused a sharp stab of pain to radiate from her ankle.

He’d pulled her to a halt, holding her steady while she caught her breath and waited for the swell of pain to subside. Finally, when she was able to straighten slightly again, he’d offered tentatively, “You know…I’m really scared we’re going to make your ankle worse if we keep this up. I-if you want, I could, um, I could…carry you?”

“What? No! Don’t be ridiculous!” she’d cried automatically, even as her mind had conjured images of Eddie lifting her into his strong arms to carry her home. Her head would have rested perfectly against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Even when they returned home, he wouldn’t have put her on her feet right away, as reluctant to release her as she would be set free. He’d stare into her eyes and, in that moment, he would realize what had been in front of him all along. He’d open his mouth to finally say the words she’d been longing to hear for so long. “Iris, I—”

“Well, I think it’s going to start raining soon, and that might make everything worse,” Bartholomew had pointed out pragmatically, throwing a bucket of cold water all over her fantasy.

She’d huffed and looked around, praying she would see Eddie rushing back to her. Regrettably, he’d been nowhere in sight. She’d glowered up at the grey clouds above, her irritation growing when she realized it did indeed look like rain. Frustrated at her thwarted fantasies, she’d dropped her gaze to Bartholomew’s and snapped, “Why did you have to be you? Why couldn’t you have gone to get my dad and left Eddie behind?”

She’d felt badly about her words the moment they’d left her mouth, as Bartholomew’s head had jerked back as if she’d slapped him. She’d braced herself for him to snap at her, but he hadn’t, which somehow had made her feel worse. Instead, he’d cleared his throat and asked, “I understand if you don’t want me to – well, if you’d rather take a break and rest for a minute. I’m sure Eddie will be back soon. We can find a place for you to sit so you’re not putting weight on your ankle.”

Feeling wretched and ashamed, Iris had dropped her gaze to the ground as she mumbled, “No. I-I want to go home now. Please.”

He’d nodded, one swift, decisive, jerk of his head. Bending to loop his arm behind her knees, he’d said, “Okay. You ready? Go ahead and put your arm around my neck, and make sure you keep your weight on me. I’m going to pick you up in three…two…one.”

She’d never really thought about Bartholomew’s physical strength – other than to think it came second to Eddie’s, as all things did. So she’d been somewhat surprised to find how easily he lifted her and carried her back toward the house, his long legs eating up the distance with surprising speed. He hadn’t even sound winded as he stepped onto the gravel pathway leading to the side door that was closest to the rooms she shared with her dad. Whether she’d have been able to hear his heartbeat if she rested her head against his chest, she didn’t know, since she’d flatly refused to put her head there.

They’d remained silent the entire way back to her door, but when he’d put her gently back onto her feet, the good manners her parents had drilled into her head overcame her embarrassment. Her gaze fixed somewhere around his feet, she’d mumbled, “Thank you for helping me get home, and I’m sorry. About earlier, I mean. I was in a bad mood, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I appreciate your help. Really.”

“It’s okay,” he’d told her sheepishly. “I understand. You love Eddie.” Mortified, she’d shot a look at his face, and he’d lifted his hands in an appeasing gesture. “I’m not judging! Lots of people love my brother. He’s always been lucky like that. It’s just, I thought for once—” His voice had trailed off, and she watched as his cheeks turned red.

Though she’d suspected she should leave it alone, she hadn’t been able to help herself. “What?”

Bartholomew had sighed, his shoulders lifting and falling in an awkward shrug. “I thought you saw me.” Scowling, he’d looked away from her before mumbling, “Anyway, you should take it easy on that ankle. I’ll have my dad stop by and check on you when he gets a chance.”

“Thanks,” she’d said, but he’d merely nodded at her and walked away, shoving his hands into his pockets, his head bowed.

She hadn’t realized it at the time (and wouldn’t have cared even if she had), but that would be the last time that she and Bartholomew would be alone or speak honestly with each other for several years. She’d never have cause fault him for his manners; he remained unfailingly polite and even thoughtful in his choice of gifts for her and her dad on birthdays and holidays. But from that moment in the woods, the distance between them only continued to grow.

By the time Iris left for college, she and Bartholomew were all but strangers, and Eddie had still never seemed to really register her existence. Perhaps the latter was a blessing, because it might have made it easier for her to go. She couldn’t believe her luck when was admitted to her top-choice school overseas and was even more astonished when she received a scholarship to attend from an anonymous benefactor.

Her first few months at the school were bittersweet; she missed her dad, he friends, and of course Eddie. But over time, her fixation on Eddie lessened, even if her devotion did not. She made new friends, explored new interests, and even went on dates with other men. And every so often, she’d read the society pages back home to see what the Allen family were up to in her absence. It seemed like every week, Eddie had a new woman on his arm – a fact which initially brought her pain but which she eventually was able to accept with an indulgent laugh.

And then the unthinkable happened. Almost a year after she left, Henry Allen died unexpectedly, and Iris managed to get a few days off school to return home for the funeral. Her first encounter with Eddie upon her return caused her heart to race no less than it had before, but she noticed with some degree of surprise that it was Bartholomew she couldn’t stop watching at the funeral.

Later, she would console herself with the thought that her attention had likely not been entirely consumed by Eddie because his open display of grief had garnered the attention of many – including several pretty ladies – who seemed eager to congregate around him to offer their sympathy and support. Bartholomew, on the other hand, remained somewhat apart, staying silent until approached directly. While most attendees to the funeral watched Eddie, Bartholomew watched his mother, offering her a glass of water or his arm for support whenever her strength seemed to flag.

Once – just once – as the coffin was being slowly lowered into its eternal resting place, Bartholomew looked up and met her eyes. His features were frozen, but she saw his eyes were red, filled with tears that he refused to shed, and her heart broke for him. It was then that she remembered his words from the last time they had really spoken. “I thought you saw me.”

He looked away quickly, and Iris tried to turn her attention back to Eddie. But when the service had concluded and they returned to the Allen home for the repast, Iris found herself preoccupied with thoughts of how Bartholomew was faring. She wanted to talk to him, to make sure he was okay, but she didn’t get a chance since she only saw him briefly, as he was busy seeing to his guests’ comfort and making sure they had enough refreshments to go around.

It seemed strange, that he would spend such an event worrying about other people. So it felt perfectly natural that she should want to check on him, to offer him her condolences for his loss. With that in mind, she’d sought him out, eventually finding him in his father’s study, hands clasped behind his back as he stared gravely out the window.

Inexplicably shy in his company – though she’d never been so before – Iris approached without a word, taking a position at his side. If he needed her, she would be there for him, but if he would rather his peace be undisturbed, she wouldn’t pressure him. After a moment, she saw him turn toward her and took this as an invitation to speak. “I don’t mean to disturb you. I just wanted to tell you that so sorry about your dad,” she murmured softly, the words sounding inane in her own ears.

He paused, and she watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed heavily before he could speak, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you. I’m, uh, I’m glad you could come. It would have meant a lot to him. He – he thought very highly of you, you know.”

“The feeling was mutual,” she said with a wistful smile. In her position as daughter of an employee, she couldn’t claim that she’d ever been terribly close with either Henry or Nora Allen. Or with their children, come to that. But the elder Allens always been kind to her, taking an interest in her when she was in their presence and remembering her when she wasn’t. She tried for something profound – or at least comforting – but her brain resorted to inanity once more as she offered a lame, “He’ll be missed.”

Bartholomew nodded, turning his attention back to the window, and Iris almost took that as her cue to leave except that he spoke again. “Your dad has been very proud of you this year. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear that he takes every opportunity to tell everyone who’ll listen how well you’re doing.” She didn’t know what to say to that, so she didn’t say anything at all, and a brief silence fell between them once more. Eventually, he broke it by asking, “Do you like it? School, I mean.”

Iris recognized he was probably looking for anything to talk about that would take his mind off his own grief, and so she lingered, turning to look out the window as well. “For the most part. I can’t say I love all the classes, and it was hard at first, being so far from home. But I’ve made some friends, and I just got a part-time job that’s flexible with school and will tide me over between semesters.”

He looked at her in surprise. “Oh, I thought you might come home over breaks.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I thought about it. But I decided I wanted to get a job and help out, and my dad said he’d come visit me whenever he can.”

Bartholomew let out a soft sound in the back of his throat. “Well, if there’s ever anything else you need, all you need to do is ask.” She didn’t immediately catch that strange word, else, and wouldn’t until she was on the plane back home, too late to ask him what it meant. Instead, when she started to thank him, he waved it away, visibly uncomfortable by her gratitude. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re enjoying school,” he said, glancing down at her once more. “You should do something that makes you happy.”

She started to reply, but unfortunately (though she wouldn’t register the misfortune of it for some time), it was just then that Iris heard a loud sob behind her and looked over her shoulder to see that Eddie in the hallway, surrounded by his usual phalanx of admirers. She hesitated, inwardly debating stepping out to check on him but not wanting to abandon the man by her side. Her indecision became moot, however, as by the time she turned back to her companion, Bartholomew had walked away. She looked around just in time to see him step through an adjoining door, and though she cried out after him, he seemed not to have heard her as the door swung closed behind him.

It occurred to her on her long flight back to school that she was always a victim of timing when it came to Bartholomew. But what did that matter? Her heart did – and always would – belong to Eddie. There weren’t many things she was certain of in the world, but she was certain of that.

#westallen #westallen secret santa #submission

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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 4 years

Text

An Unexpected Turn Of Events

(Paladin Danse x Preg! F!SoSu)

(Very tempted to still do a Maxson version of this.)

Everything has gone so badly. Danse was accustomed to it though. So many times had he felt like he had the whole thing planned out, just for him to wind up returning to the prydwen short a couple good men and women. It was this fact that often kept him up at night, his self-loathing keeping him from a restful sleep. However, as accustomed to death and injuries as his position had rendered him to being, he couldn’t have prepared for this.

It was just you, him and a whole lot of fusion cells. The mission was to clean out some old building, only expected to have a couple of ferals inside.

That certainly wasn’t the truth.

What was supposed to be an easy fight brought you, his love, to your knees and no longer able to fight. There had been so many of them, much more than your ammunition could keep up with. Grenades seemed like a good idea but in reality if you were to throw one within this range, you’d just end up blowing your limbs off.

Why didn’t you just wear your power armor?

As though things couldn’t get any worse, one of those putrid “glowing ones” emerged from some random post within the crumbling wall. The second the creature made its presence known, raising its recently fallen brethren..Danse thought this would be the end. Judging from your now motionless, laying form..he didn’t really want to continue on anyways. Had it been any other time, a time where adrenaline and sheer terror wasn’t fueling him, he would’ve been screaming his heart out of his chest at the realization you may have just died. He wouldn’t be able to just “soldier through” this one. Not this time.

Just as he was going to give in, let the horde overtake him, the familiar sound of heavy steel boots heralded in a renewed feeling of hope. Bullets like whistles flying through the area as the ever so rare “backup” knights came through guns blazing.

Once the ringing in his ears died down to a somewhat bearable level his first move was to sprint where he knew you had fallen. If you were actually dead..oh god he didn’t want to know at this point. No, he wouldn’t even check for a pulse or breath, he’d just rush his numb being into the nearest vertibird, vaguely recalling his hoarse voice barking orders at the pilots as he cradled you against his cold armored body.

His grasp on you wouldn’t falter for even a second, cradling you to him as though you were his baby. He didn’t care what anyone else on the prydwen thought at the time, even as they cast their worried gazes upon the two of you as he practically dashed for the bay clinic.

From there it was all a huge blur for Danse. Captain Cade had pried you away from the nearly iron like grip he had, allowing the unbelieving Paladin to helplessly watch as your crimson blood pooled and dripped from the several lacerations that littered your motionless body. Watch as Cade jammed rad-x into your arm before hastily beginning to dress your wounds. Watch until finally some scribes forcefully pulled him away from the undeniably terrible sight he bore witness to.

He didn’t go far though.

Luckily he didn’t have to wait too long, hours later being personally approached by one the same scribes that had torn him away.

“Knight Captain-Cade needs to speak with you immediately, sir! The younger man spoke with a rigid solute, only taking his leave whenever danse gave a shaky nod in acknowledgment.

The short walk from his quarters to the clinic hadn’t ever seemed so long before. He supposed the impending doom of whatever news was to befall him would do that though. Each step felt like his feet were made of lead, an unpleasant unrest settling deep within his gut and a strange tightening sensation took place in his calf muscles. By the time he was in the doorway of Cade’s clinic, the amber eyes man found himself blearily blinking away the glassy haze of unshed tears. He couldn’t help but wonder at what step on his way here did he begin to tear up?

Regardless he carefully cleared his throat, grabbing the attention of the grey haired man standing adjacent to him in the small room.

There you were..laying peacefully. Some manner of relief befell him at the sight, a clear heart rate detected on the electrocardiogram you were connected to.

He wasn’t a religious man but boy, was he going to pray thanks to whatever had prevented you from dying. Prevented you from being taken away from him.

“Ah, glad you came so quickly Paladin..there’s a certain hm.” Cade had stopped, already beginning to approach the taller man while still looking down at his clipboard. “Actually, I think you should sit down for this one.” He resumed, a small smile quirking at the corners of his mouth.

If thy didn’t perplex danse, he didn’t quite know what would. On one hand, you looked like you were in stable condition..plus Cade wouldn’t have been smiling if something was gravely wrong. On the other hand....why was Cade smiling?

Complying to the medic’s orders, Danse sat his shaking form down into the torn leather of one of the seats closest to your bedside. “Is..is she going to be okay?” Danse found his voice coming out far more strained that he assumed it would. The nerves and held back tears had eaten up the integrity of his already gruff tone.

To this Cade fully looked Danse in the eye, that mysteriously genuine smile only growing with the contact. Before the Paladin knew what was happening, Cade had tossed his clipboard down onto the seat next to him and clasped his shoulder.

Chuckling, the Captain nodded his head. “That’s the least of your worries now, Paladin. Our knight is going to be just fine, she just needs to rest for a while.” Danse felt the weight of the earth itself be lifted from his shoulders, his amber eyes now inquisitively narrowing as he tried to decipher just why it was that Cade wasn’t just cutting straight to the point as he usually did. “However...you might want to think twice before you take her out. Look, she’s one of the best we have, true..but..well, let’s just say fighting ghouls probably isn’t the best thing for her in this state.”

“What? What do you me-“ “I mean the two of you are about to be held up with something else more pressing. I was running some routine wellness tests and I found something unusual, considering your intimate involvement with the Knight you should be the first to know. Congratulations Danse, you’re going to be a father.”

And just like that, Danse felt like he was going to stroke out. Did he hear Cade right? What? Of course he did!

Blinking a few times to hopefully help himself process, Danse stared in disbelief. Within moments though, a rare huge smile enveloped the Paladin usual scowling face. Shooting up from his seated position, he was at your side in no time.

“How far long?” He asked after a moment or two, his happy eyes scanning you up and down mirthfully. “Can’t be too far hm?” Amber eyes stopped right at your midsection to further his question.

“No..not at all, I’d say maybe eight weeks at the very most.”

Danse was completely in awe..but even that sweet, uncharacteristic joy came to an abrupt crash when he realized one key detail.

You almost got killed today..which meant in this state..he wouldn’t have only lost the one person that made him whole, he would’ve also lost his unborn baby and wouldn’t have even known the difference.

The thought brought a new wave of tears to his eyes, he wouldn’t dare let them spill, at least not where the doctor could see. Instead he’d lean down and bury his face into the crook of your neck, pressing a soft kiss below your ear and gingerly bringing his large hand to press into the area he imagined your little baby was growing. Soon it took everything he had to not openly sob.

What if things wouldn’t have gone as well as they did?

He wouldn’t dare let that be a possibility anytime soon. No. So instead he’d eagerly await your awakening at your side, ready to be there as Cade breaks the news to you as well and be there for whatever reaction you may have. He’ll also be there for you every step of the way, be it reassurance or anything you need of him- he’ll be there for you and for your new little baby.

He’ll be there for his family, he promises.

#i did not proof read this #let me know if there are errors i bet theyre silly #paladin danse #fallout 4 #fallout #danse #paladin danse x sole

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knightofthecourt · 4 years

Text

Love Bites - Chapter 7

Belatrice Gray was a TA at Belgrave University, working hard to stay on top of her marking and trying not to flunk her own studies, when a night out with her bff Randall and his roommates, changed everything.

Hamish Duke x OC fiction with fluff, romance and angst. OC description has been left out to allow for reader personalisation!

Hamish was awoken by the watery light streaming in through his bedroom window. He turned his head away from the intrusion, desperately chasing the last remnants of sleep.

He’d been having the most unusually vivid dream. The taste of Bela’s lemon-tinted lips on his, the sound of her gasping his name as he grasped the soft curve of her hip, the taste of flesh, flashes of blood.

His eyes flew open. He sat up suddenly, heart racing and looked around the room.

Next to his own unclothed form, there she lay, curled around his duvet, sleeping peacefully. His breathing slowed as his eyes traced her outline, searching for signs of injury.

There was no blood, no torn flesh, no sign of distress, but… he brushed aside a lock of hair, careful not to disturb her. On the patch of skin below the back of her neck, smooth and even, as if they’d been painted on, sat two faint red crescents. A bite mark.

Hamish’ stomach plummeted. It hadn’t been a dream, he’d lost control and he - well, Tundra - had bitten Bela last night. As he scanned the discoloured marks that marred the previously unblemished area he began to feel more and more uneasy. He could still feel the pressure of his teeth sinking into her neck, the taste, but this bite looked like it had healed years ago. It didn’t make sense.

Hamish rose from the bed, quickly and quietly and grabbed the closest outfit he could find. Bela wasn’t safe with him here, something was very wrong.

He needed to get to the Den, now.

- - - - -

“So, you didn’t bite her?”

Hamish raked a hand through his hair as he stared at Randall. “No, I- Tundra did. It’s like I couldn’t keep him out, I had no control.”

Lilith shook her head. “But it wasn’t there when you woke up? And Bela didn’t say anything?”

“What would she say,” Jack said, “Morning Hamish, I had a great time last night - by the way, did you turn into a werewolf and take a great big chunk out of my neck?”

“No,” Hamish said, “I told you, the bite had healed somehow and I left before she woke up.”

“Ooh,” said Jack “Maybe she’s some sort of vampire with superhuman healing abilities”.

Randall grinned, “Or a mutant, like Wolverine from X-Men.” He paused when he saw the look on Hamish’s face. “No, probably not a mutant. Definitely not a mutant... are you sure it happened? Maybe the mark is from something else - I fell asleep on a textbook after finals, had a line on my arm for three days.”

Hamish’s head throbbed as he looked across the room at Jack, Randall and Lilith. He’d been glad to find all three of them in the Den when he burst through the door half an hour ago, strewn across the living room. Judging from the state of the place, they were recovering from a beer pong session.

After they’d finished making comments about his uncharacteristically haphazard appearance and lack of tie, he’d managed to explain what had happened with Bela - the bite, blacking out after and waking up this morning with her still in one piece.

As he watched their conversation turn to the different ways they’d managed to injure themselves in their sleep, his mind drifted to the woman he’d left in his apartment. He wondered whether she’d found the note he’d left yet, a carefully crafted lie to explain his unexpected absence, propped against a glass of juice and packet of Advil on the bedside table. It took more willpower than he expected not to lean down and brush a kiss against her temple before he left, but he couldn’t risk waking her.

“Enough.” Hamish snapped, pulling the trio from their hungover musings. “This is serious. I’ve never seen anything like this, never even read about anything like it and… things have been different recently. I’ve been losing control. I’ve put Bela in danger - I’ve put all of you in danger.”

His three friends looked up at him, all traces of humour gone.

“Ok,” Randall said. He threw off the blanket and walked over to the bookshelf in the corner of the room. “Let’s hit the books then.”

- - - - -

“Wha-!” Hamish ducked as a leather bound volume went sailing past his head.

“How could you?” Lilith was furious, her face a mask of rage, eyes flashing between silver and brown in a kaleidoscopic blur.

Randall spun on his heels as Hamish regained his composure. “What the hell Lilith?”

“Without her consent Hamish? You mated with her without her consent?”

“Woah,” Jack chipped in from his perch on the stairs, “Even I know that’s wrong, dude.”

Randall spun back to Hamish, who looked baffled, and then held up his hands in an attempt to keep Lilith and Hamish apart.

“Haim,” he said, keeping one eye on Lilith, who was now shifting from foot to foot, as if readying herself to launch at their leader. “What did you do?”

Hamish raised his hands in defence. “Nothing. I asked before we were intimate. I would never...” He trailed off when Lilith let out a small snarl.

“I’m not talking about sex Hamish, you marked her - read the damn book.”

Hamish didn’t move. He looked stricken, the blood draining from his face.

Randall retrieved the book from the floor and opened it to the page Lilith had marked with a scrap of paper. “Though often depicted otherwise in folklore, most werewolves will never find a mate. Those who do are rare.” He began, glancing up at Hamish who had placed his head in his hands.

“Once a mate is identified the hide will compel the wearer to bond with their potential partner, before marking them as their own. This stage of the mating process is dangerous and, if the champion is not in control of the hide, often results in the death of their mate.”

Hamish swayed a little on his feet.

Randall continued. “Those who survive have little recollection of this process, though it is not known why. As well as providing a euphoric effect, the saliva produced by the wolf during mating causes the mark to heal quickly. The bond created through mating is irreversible and can only be severed by the death of the hide’s host, or the death of their mate. The benefits of mating include an incomparable sense of loyalty, enhanced resistance to magic and the ability to bear -”.

“Stop.” Hamish’s voice cracked. He lowered his hands from his ashen face.

Lilith was ready to punch something, or someone. “Loyalty?” she snarled, “It’s brainwashing Hamish. How could you do this to her? She’s our friend - you didn’t even give her a choice.”

Randall scoffed as he placed the book on the table next to the sofa. “Your friend, Lil? When was the last time you two hung out on your own.”

“Stop.” Hamish’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Well, apparently she’s going to be our new werewolf step mom or something so -”

“As if that makes you best friends. Wait a second - does that mean Hamish is our werewolf dad?”

“More like grandad,” Jack piped up.

“Urgh!” Lilith let out a wail of frustration and rounded on Randall, her eyes finally settling on silver discs. She growled again as her nails lengthened into claws.

“STOP!” For a brief second Hamish’s eyes flashed and his face contorted as a change washed over him, then he took a deep breath and the anger seemed to drain out of him. His shoulders slumped as he pushed past Randall and Lilith and sat heavily on the sofa.

Randall glanced at Lilith, eyes wide.

“I didn’t know any of this,” Hamish said, looking up at them. “I never would have gone near her if I’d known. And now I can’t... I can’t take it back. She could have died because of me - because I care about her and -” He broke off, placing his head once again in his hands.

Randall sat down next to Hamish and put a steadying palm on his back. “Bela is my friend,” he said, emphasising the word 'my' as he glared at Lilith. “You both are - I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. And she likes you, she really, really likes you, even without this mate stuff.”

Lilith looked at Hamish, her eyes clouded. “I’m sorry Haim, we’ll do whatever we can to help.”

“No.” Hamish stood suddenly, jerking away from Randall. “I need to stay away from Bela. I can’t undo what I’ve done but if I keep my distance maybe she’ll be safe. I can’t lose someone I love. Not again.” He strode out of the Den, slamming the door hard enough to rattle its hinges on his way out.

“Right,” Jack sighed from the stairwell, “good to know we have a solid plan.”

#the order #hamish duke #randall carpio #lillith bathory #hamish duke x reader #hamish duke x oc #the knights of st christopher #werewolf #love bites #the knights of saint christopher

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shoutoismybaby · 4 years

Text

Enouement- Ch 1

Pregnant!Reader X Bakusquad boy (He is a secret until next chapter! Can you guess who it is?)

Enouement- The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self.

Hi! This is inspired by all of those unexpected pregnancy AU’s that I love reading, but it always made me sad they were only a one-shot, so I turned it into a chaptered series! I hope you enjoy and tell me who you think the boyfriend is!

(also special thanks to @liliesoftherain for helping me with this story, a true MVP that you should follow)

masterlist/ part2

***

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was a one-time thing, an accident. After being together for 2 years you both had finally turned 18 and decided it was time to take the next step in your relationship. You didn’t think that this would happen. You were careful every time after, neither of you thought that this would be the outcome of a one-time thing. He COULDN’T know this was the outcome, he couldn’t know that there was any outcome at all.

But there was, and it sat there in your shaking hands, a small test with two lines. Tears welled up in your eyes as you muttered to yourself about how this couldn’t be happening. You were on winter break, graduation was only 3 months away!

Could you hide it until then? You could only be about 2 months now, so no way that would be possible. Should you even hide it in the first place? Could you even take care of a baby? Did you want to give up your dreams of being a hero for a baby? And what about…

No. You couldn’t do that to him. You could never ruin his dream, a baby would set him back so far. He would never be able to forgive you. Even if he did, you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself. Not only that but he totally was not mature enough to even think about being a parent. Those thoughts only left you with one option, abortion. You knew you couldn’t talk to your parents about it, or you felt like you couldn’t anyway. They would be so disappointed in you. Not only that an abortion sounded so terrifying to you.

Would they have to reach inside of you? Suck the baby out?

The thought of it made you nauseous.

“(Y/n), you alright?” you heard your mother’s voice from outside the door, “you’ve been in there for a while.”

“You having diarrhea?” Your dad laughed, and you hear the ‘ow’ that left his mouth after being elbowed by your mom. You quickly wiped your eyes and tried to clear your throat,

“Yeah,” you tried to figure out an excuse, “I was um, just fixing my hair.”

The last few days of winter break went by pretty smoothly, though you couldn’t help but feel like puking every time you thought of the test you had buried into your trashcan. Going back to the dorms was nowhere near easy, however, morning sickness hit you hard and excusing yourself from class in time to run to the bathroom was one of the most difficult things you had ever accomplished. Luckily for you, no one seemed suspicious of your changing behavior. In fact, your boyfriend just thought your increased appetite was cute. Part of it was probably due to being in different classes, you used to hate being in class 3-b, but at the moment it was giving you the time away from your boyfriend that you feared would reveal your secret.

“Hey, (Y/n), you okay?” your boyfriend’s happy voice broke through your thoughts. “You’ve been spaced out a lot recently.”

“Yeah I’m okay,” you tried to bring yourself back to the present, “it’s just that even though it’s only been a couple of weeks since break I’m already worried about our final.”

It wasn’t a lie. While you were worried about the exam, your biggest fear wasn’t about knowing the answers. No, you were terrified at the thought of not being able to take it in the first place.

“What do you mean, you've got nothing to worry about babe!” His chipper attitude brought a much-needed smile to your face.

“Yeah, you’re like totally smart!” Mina agreed, the rest of the Bakusquad you spent most time out of class with made various noises in agreement.

“Thanks, guys, but I’m more worried about the application portion. I heard the teachers won’t be wearing any restrictions thi-” Your phone buzzing on the table cut you off. Your boyfriend picked it up for you,

“It’s your mom,” he said, handing it over. You stood up and ruffled his hair gently,

“I’ll be back,” You answered the call once you stepped out of the cafeteria, “Hey mom, what's up?”

“Hey honey, I just have a question.” Her voice sounded shaky and a nervousness built up in your stomach.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Your father and I just decided to get started on some cleaning, he wanted to beat the neighbors to spring cleaning, you know how he is.” Her laugh didn’t comfort you as much as it usually would.

“Yeah,” was the only way you could respond. You could tell that she was upset, but what was it about. “Is dad okay?”

“He went into your room to get your trash today.”

Your heart sunk.

“Mom I-”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Her voice broke and tears sprung up into your eyes.

“I was scared! I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me, it was an accident and I didn’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do!” Your voice sounded strangled as you struggled to not sob in the middle of the hallway.

“Honey if you have this baby, your hero career will be ruined. You might not even be able to graduate at this point.”

“I know that,” you sniffled and wiped at your watering eyes.

“But Does your boyfriend?” It was a reasonable question but it caused a sharp pain to shoot through your chest.

“No,” You walked over to the window to watch the snowfall outside,

“(Y/n), you need to tell him,” Obviously you knew that, but you just couldn’t.

“He’ll hate me! I just- I don’t… I don’t want the baby. I want to be a hero, and I can’t ruin his life like that.” You could hear her sigh as you wiped at your eyes.

“Listen, I’m going to pick you up from school, and we will figure out what to do okay?” You could only mutter in agreement before wiping your eyes some more. You turned away from the windows and back to the doors of the cafeteria only to let out a startled gasp. Standing in front of the doors was The Bakugou Katsuki.

“B-Bakugou, I don’t know what you think you heard but I can assure you it’s definitely not what it seems li-”

“You’re pregnant?” His eyes were blown wide open, and while you had seen him shocked in battle before, you had never seen him look so agape. Your once loose grip on your phone tightened to the point your hand ached in protest. The soft fabric of your shirt as you held the device close to your chest did little to comfort you as you began to shake.

“No, it’s not like that, I just..” Your grip on your phone slackened and your arms dropped to your sides, Bakugou wasn’t going to believe whatever shitty excuse you came up with, so you gave up.

“You’re fucking pregnant.” His eyes pierced through you and you couldn’t help but look down at the ground in shame.

“Yeah,” Your headshot up along with your hands, phone abandoned in your pocket, “but you cant tell! No one can know.”

“You’re not going to tell him?” His brows furrowed now, looking deeper to how you were used to seeing his face,

“Who knows what he would do if he found out! Hate me, leave me, give up on his dream to take care of the-” You pause, some part of you can not bring yourself to say the word once again. The whole situation was already too real for you. “I just need to deal with it by myself, then it won’t matter and everything can go back to feeling normal!”

“Is that what you want?” His voice was uncharacteristically gentle,

“What are you talking about, what do you mean?” You scrunch your face in confusion. Not only did you have no idea what you were going to do, but now Bakugou was acting weird. As the blonde moved to open his mouth he was cut off by the bell. You both knew that your conversation would have to end there as people were about to walk through the door, and the relief caused your body to slacken.

The rest of the day went by pretty fast, other than hero training which really wore you out. You walked as slowly as possible to avoid seeing your parent’s faces again. You knew they would be in the parking lot of the cafe across the street, and they would be so disappointed in you. So you lingered about once school ended, spending some extra time hanging out with the Bakusquad. You were trying to be as normal as you could, but that unwavering stare you felt on your back just made your nerves skyrocket. You wanted to say you were being paranoid, you really did, that Bakugou glared at everyone. Yet the longer he looked the more unease you felt that wasn’t one of his normal stares

Would he ruin everything for you? He understood that this wasn’t his place to tell right? Plus, when had the Bakugou Katsuki ever cared about things that weren’t supposed to involve him? Still, he did what he wanted when he wanted, and that was that. His extremely strong set of morals is what guided him in life, despite what some liked to believe. He was definitely going to let your secret spill. If he did that then..

Oh god, you needed to get rid of this baby. It could ruin everything you worked for, and you couldn't imagine living without your boyfriend by your side. He was such a happy guy who lit up every room he walked into. His smile was contagious and he always knew how to cheer you up. This time though, you knew that this was something you would have to deal with without him, even though you hated the idea of keeping a secret as big as this. You two were so honest with each other, you were open books the other could read at any moment. But if he knew about the baby..

You must have cradled your stomach without thinking because everyone started looking at you weirdly,

“Is your stomach upset (Y/n)?” Your boyfriend was at your side, concerned for you as always. You wondered if he could tell something was wrong.

“Maybe you should head home and rest, we can’t afford you getting sick!” The group agreed with Mina, and strangely that included Bakugou.

“Yeah, you should go home to your parents.” He grumbled the others teased him about caring for you, but you saw the look in his eyes. You knew what he was thinking.

With that, you turned and headed towards the gates of UA high.

***

Please tell me your thoughts, I love feedback! And maybe if enough people like it ill create a tag list?? Now that we’ve reached the end, do you know who the boyfriend is?

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x you #mha x you #is it #kirishima x reader #sero x reader #or #kaminari x reader #???

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patroclusonly · 4 years

Text

Slowly finding myself through you

Eddie Diaz week day 2: Eddie Goes to Therapy

I wasn’t going to participate because I haven’t been writing lately, but here we are. I might write for some days.

This is really bad tho

Also, I know the title makes it seem like it was because of someone that he found himself but what I meant is that because of the support of his family, he’s getting better. Like, emotionally better.

read on ao3

Eddie had been going to therapy since the street fighting accident. On and off, but it was still a constant in his life. Usually, once every two weeks he would meet Frank and he would talk about whatever he needed to talk.

There wasn’t much to talk about anymore. The job had been uncharacteristically calm, his parents had been to LA for a quick visit last month and didn’t say anything about Eddie and Christopher returning to Texas. And the best thing of all, Buck and Eddie were reaching their two year anniversary.

They got together after May’s graduation party. It wasn’t planned and it was unexpected. Well, not exactly unexpected but it was a surprise, mostly for the suddenness of how it happened.

After Buck drove him and a sleeping Chris to his house and stayed there to make sure they were okay, Eddie, to his own surprise, had rushed in and kissed him before he could say goodbye.

That first kiss had gotten a little heated and Buck was the one to break it, pulling Eddie’s insisting hands away. He looked wrecked, his hair a curly mess, his lips swollen, his shirt half open, and Eddie would have been embarrassed by his neediness, but at that moment he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

It all went pretty natural after that. They talked that same night, agreed that they both wanted to try whatever that was. Eddie had to restrain himself to not jump on top of Buck and kiss him senseless. But they figured it out.

Almost two years together and they had fight only a handful of times. They understood each other and Eddie appreciated that. Buck knew him and loved him the way he was, and loved Christopher so much anyone that didn’t know him, would think he was his own son.

But there was always doubt in Eddie’s mind. And recently it was louder and louder and apparently Frank noticed something was different.

“Do you have anything on your mind you’d like to talk about?” He asked, placing down his notebook and looking at Eddie, not pushing further.

“I think Buck wants to move in.” He said after a moment of silence, trying to quiet the mean voices on his head.

“Well, that’s great, isn’t it? From what you’ve told me, he’s there most of the time, it wouldn’t be much of a problem.” Frank stated. He knew how to make Eddie talk without overwhelming him with questions, waiting patiently for the perfectly thought answer he would come up with.

“Yes, but he’s not been living with me. He can come and go whenever he wants.” Eddie answered, looking at the floor. The thoughts in his head flying loose and making a nest of worry and doubt.

He noted the use of ‘me’ on Eddie’s words. “You think he won’t want to stay there after he moves in? That he’ll want to leave?”

“I think he likes the idea of moving in, but he won’t like actually living with me all day, every day.” Eddie seemed to sink into the couch, every negative on his mind tearing his confident front down, piece by piece.

“Why? Has he given you a reason to think that?” Frank inquired, trying to be as direct as he could without pushing the wrong buttons.

“No. But that’s the thing, isn’t that what always happens?” He looks up, eyes cold and piercing, memories feeding his own insecurities. “Something always goes wrong.”

“If you go looking for trouble, you’ll find it.” Frank said, trying to make contact with Eddie’s deflecting eyes. “You’ve told me that Buck is different, that he understands you and doesn’t expect anything that you’re not willing to give. That he loves Christopher, and that he loves you. He stays with you almost every day now, why making it official would change anything?”

Eddie winced slightly, taken aback by Frank’s question. He seemed to ponder for a moment, before looking up again.

“I’m scared he’ll feel trapped and get tired of me.” He admitted. He knew everything his mind told him wasn’t true, but it was still hard to ignore something that is constantly there telling you you’re not enough.

“Have you talked to him about how you feel?” Frank asked and Eddie shook his head. He bit his lip nervously, already knowing what Frank was about to say.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to help you with this concern. I know why you feel like that and I think you know too, we can keep talking about it. But I can’t help you figure out how Buck will feel. The only way to know that, is to talk to Buck yourself. Tell him how you feel and see how things go.” Frank spoke and Eddie sighed, knowing he was right.

*********

When he got home, the first thing he heard was low music coming from the kitchen. He walked in quietly and found Buck, cheerfully bouncing his head to the beat while washing the dishes.

Eddie smiled to himself, leaning on the wall and admiring his boyfriend’s energy flowing around the room.

He didn’t have to be there, cleaning, cooking, doing anything other than being there to spend some time with Chris and Eddie. And Christopher wasn’t even there yet, he was still at school. But Buck wanted to be there, and that always warmed Eddie’s heart and dissipated some of his worry.

“I hope you’re hungry.” Buck’s voice made him jump and he straightened his stance. So caught up in his head, he never noticed Buck looking back at him. He closed the water, dried his hands and turned the music off. “Were you enjoying the view?” He joked, leaning on the table and pulling Eddie in by his shirt. Eddie went happily, placing his hands on Buck’s waist and kissing his softly.

Buck knew him, he knew he spoke through actions. And even though he’s been trying to be more vocal about how he feels, he knew Buck understood every touch he gives.

Once they pull apart, Buck hold his face close, staring at his eyes. “Everything okay with Frank?” He asked. Eddie threw his head against his shoulder and sighed as an answer. Buck hummed. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Yeah.” Eddie said, and if Buck was surprised, he hid it very nicely. Because Eddie had been working on voicing his emotions, but that doesn’t mean he talked about what he talked with Frank outside of their private sessions.

Buck took his hand and led them to the living room. They both sat on the couch, facing each other and with their hands still intertwined.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Buck said, squeezing his hand gently, as a reassuring gesture. Eddie smiled at him and sighed, gathering all the open vulnerability in him before he started to talk.

“I told Frank I was scared.” He started, feeling the bitter and familiar feeling of talking openly about something he was insecure about. “I know you want to move in but I...I’m scared you’ll get tired of me once you don’t have the option to just, leave whenever you want.” He admitted, trying not to bite his tongue before finishing everything he wanted to say. “He told me if I wanted to know how you’ll feel, I’d have to ask you.”

Buck nodded, still holding his hand. Eddi was thankful for that touch, it made him feel a little more sure about what he was doing. After a moment, Buck spoke.

“Do you want me to move in?” He asked, carefully inspecting his face.

“Of course I do.” Eddie answered quickly, not a moment of doubt or a hesitant tone. Buck smiled softly, raising his other hand and cupping Eddie’s face gently. He gave Eddie a soft kiss and pulled back, stroking his cheek.

“I want to move in, only if you and Chris want that too, because I love you both with everything in me. I will be forever grateful that you let me into your family with open arms and allowed me to be here with you and for you since the beginning.” Eddie’s lips curved at Buck’s statement and fond gaze. “I’ll never get tired of you. I have loved you even before I realized it myself. I know you won’t believe that now but luckily, I plan on proving that every day for the rest of my life, if you’ll let me.”

Eddie had a huge grin on his face and the sight made Buck smile too. He pulled Buck in for a slow, tender kiss, filled with every bit of love he felt for him.

When they pulled away, Buck held him close for a moment, staring at his eyes with a serious look.

“I really love you. And if you’re not ready now for me to move in, I’ll wait. Okay? There’s no rush or ultimátum, I’ll wait for you.” He reassured him one more time. Eddie nodded, lacking the words to describe how he felt in that moment. He leaned in and kissed him one more time, lingering there a little longer.

Buck made a pleased sound as they pulled away, a small smile on his face. “I would love to continue this, but I was making lunch and I’m pretty sure if I let the sauce cook any longer it’ll consume itself.” He joked, giving Eddie one quick peck on the lips before standing up. “Pick something to watch?” He said, looking down at Eddie.

Eddie nodded. He picked up the remote and turned the TV on, changing channels but still unable to focus enough to know what was on them.

“Eddie?” Buck called from the kitchen, silence followed so Eddie spoke up.

“Yeah?”

“I love you!” Buck answered, followed by a happy laugh. Eddie couldn’t help the uncontainable grin that appeared on his face once again.

“Love you too.” He answered, not sure if loud enough for Buck to hear, but with all the meaning behind it.

He might have some issues with his confidence and self-worth, and he might always will, but he would be fine. He was sure of that. He had his family helping him and supporting him through the journey and that was all he really needed. That was enough.

#idk #eddiediazweek #eddie diaz #buddie #buddie fic #like #this is about eddie's adandoment issues #but it's weird

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maraudersandlily20 · 4 years

Text

Hope

If you haven’t read the first part, probably go do that. But here’s a small recap: I wrote stories about Hope and Lyall Lupin before they got married, I made @the-moon-and-stars-my-love read it almost two years ago and her commentary still makes me laugh. So I am going to post the story with the commentary interspersed. Enjoy! Her commentary will be labeled, bolded, and italicized.

Part 2

Carolina: i see that there is gonna be a part two and i aM READY AND HERE FOR IT

It had been two weeks since she had seen him. Two full weeks. She knew, because she had counted. Many, many times. And though she would never admit it, it rather hurt.

Carolina: ohhh goodness my heart is breaking a bit for her. she felt ghosted. or, well, as ghosted as you can be in the 1950s without things like snapchat and all that tech stuff but she literally has no way to contact him?? of course she's hurt :(

Had she made the whole thing up? Was Lyall Lupin simply a figment of her imagination? Those thoughts came to her as the first week came to an end. And then, she would look over on her dresser to see the gleam of silver of that piece of chocolate, which had earned a kind of place of honor beside her hairbrush, and knew she hadn’t made anything up. He was real. Which meant that he just hadn’t come to see her again.

That truth made her wish that he hadn’t been real at all.

Carolina: stop stop it right now that's so unfair they had such a lovely time and now you're making this happen??? rUDE

To her embarrassment, she had replayed their meeting over and over again in her mind, wondering if perhaps she had been too forward with her desire to see him again. But HE was the one who had said he wanted to return, even if it was just to “check up on her”. She had seen the way his eyes had lit up when she agreed to that and she knew he was just as intrigued by her as she was by him.

At least, she had thought so.

Carolina: you can see how she's trying to rationalize and i mean she's really not wrong but her fear that she was too forward is so real and oh man Lyall you better make this up to her

Two weeks of radio silence was making her question that. It was making her question everything.

Groaning in frustration, Hope tried to push the annoying and persistent thoughts away. Her mother was at the market and had left Hope in charge of making the bread for dinner that evening. It was a tiring chore, but it gave her hands something to do while she contemplated the mysterious man again and again. She was kneading the dough slowly, rubbing in more and more flour, becoming rougher with her movements as she recalled the details of their meeting.

It had almost been a type of fairytale. He had rescued her from the brute in the forest, and sat beside her while she was unconscious to ensure her safety, then he had escorted her home, and had promised to return to see her again soon.

If anyone else had told her a similar story, she probably would have gushed along with them, reassuring them that the young man was just as interested in them as they thought.

Carolina: you and me both Hope wheRE IS MY FAIRYTALE STORY???

And then, as time went on, she would change her tune, perhaps suggesting that he was too good to be true and wasn’t interested in letting the poor girl down. Hope knew that that’s how she would treat the situation from an outsider’s perspective. But she wasn’t an outsider. It had happened to her, and she really REALLY wanted him to return with his perfect explanation and tell her how mad he was for her.

It was very unrealistic.

“Stupid Lyall Lupin and his stupid beautiful face and his stupid kind gestures and his stupid chocolate and his stupid everything. Stupid, stupid, stupid!” she muttered, slamming the dough onto the table with her final exclamation.

Carolina: "boys are stupid" is the vibe i'm getting from her and honestly what a mood

Realizing how foolish she was behaving, she took a step back and placed her hands on her hips, trying to calm herself. She stared down at the abandoned dough covered with deep indents from her fingers and shook her head.

“And stupid me, for believing in him in the first place.”

Carolina: yOU DID NOTHING WRONG (Carolina will fight anyone in regards to Hope, as I have learned)

That was the rub, the thing that bothered Hope the most. She considered herself to be rather clever and not very naive. But this was different. She had met a beautiful stranger in the woods, let him sweet talk her, even escort her home. He was kind and amiable and seemed like the stuff of dreams. Then he vanished without another word. Now she was thinking it had all been a ruse, the stuff of dreams after all.

With a sigh, she made to go back to the dough and finish the task at hand, though it seemed like the least important thing to her at that moment. Bread had none of the answers she needed. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. She just had to get through the day, and then she could try to forget Lyall Lupin. It would probably never happen, but she could dream. Hope made to grab the dough again when she heard something, like a soft thump. The noise was coming from the front of the house and after a moment, it sounded almost as if someone was cursing softly. She peered around the table, curious, when a quick knock echoed in the air. It startled her enough to make her jump and she laughed at herself.

They weren’t expecting guests that night, so there shouldn’t have been anyone dropping by. But nobody in town cared much about boundaries and always did as they pleased regardless. It wasn’t uncharacteristic of the town to show up around supper and beg for scraps. Hope’s mother was always gracious toward their unexpected guests, while Hope always wanted to roll her eyes. She was curious though and headed toward the door. As she neared, she realized that there was a chance it was Miles. The thought almost made her ignore the knock completely. He had made his intentions toward her very clear and she was worried her refusal of his affection hadn’t been obvious enough. He was the type of suitor that believed in perseverance over anything.

Carolina: oh my gosh he's THAT guy. i really want him to come back in the future and i want Lyall to be like "lmao bro nope u wish look at me i'm the lucky sod who gets to marry this girl"

She wouldn’t be surprised if he had been waiting for her mother to leave so they could have a moment alone together. The thought made her wince.

With a pause and prayer, Hope opened the door.

It wasn’t Miles, with his bouquets and love poems, nor was it any of the other villagers, looking for a free meal and a good piece of gossip.

It wasn’t like that at all.

What she found was nothing like she expected.

A man was lying on her porch, covered almost head to toe in mud and carrying on as if he were about to die. It was, simply put, rather shocking.

Carolina: i am genuinely concerned for Lyall rn

Hope sprang to action. “Sir! Are you alright?” She asked, concern coating her voice.

The man looked up at her and she caught her breath. She knew those warm hazel eyes. She had been dreaming of them consistently for the past two weeks. He gave her a weak smile through a stifled groan. .

“Hello, Miss Howell. I do hope I’m not intruding.”

Lyall.

Carolina: wOW sure sure Lyall act like you aREN'T DYING SURE SURE WHY NOT

It took some effort, but Hope was able to get Lyall up off the porch and into the house.

Carolina: we stan a strong woman yessss hope!!

The two had limped together through the front rooms, Lyall leaning heavily on her, much to her distaste. At least most of the mud was drying, she reasoned. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to wash her clothes.

They reached the washroom and she released her hold of him to start gathering towels and soap. His eyes followed her movement before he slowly lowered himself onto the tile of the floor. He was quiet as she worked, watching as she filled up the tub with warm water, rubbing the soap bar between her hands in order to make the water have some suds. She had barely looked at him after getting him inside, though he had tried to get her eyes on him again. Hope was stubborn. Lyall had learned that faster than anything else. He had unintentionally caused her some pain the past two weeks, and she wasn’t prepared to just let that go. The awkwardness between them was palpable and Lyall wasn’t sure what to do to ease it.

When the tub was full, Hope turned to him. “Are you hurt?”

He looked up at her, startled. “Hurt?”

“Yes, hurt. Do you need help getting your clothes off?” She tried to pretend that the thought of helping him undress didn’t cause a red hot blush to crawl up her neck.

Carolina: lmao okay Hope sure yeah act like you wouldn't love to see him without his shirt mhm suuuure

Lyall shook his head. “I can manage my trousers but, uh… I may need some help with the shirt.”

Carolina: sO MUCH OPPORTUNITY FOR CUTE STUFF RIGHT NOW DEAR GOODNESS

Hope nodded, placing her hands under his arms and attempting to help him to his feet. He laughed as they struggled and she almost smiled.

Almost.

Carolina: yes good don't give in yet Hope you've got this he still has to explain

Now that Lyall was once again standing, Hope tried to push on with the work. “Don’t think about it, Hope. Just imagine you’re helping Da with his shirt. Not an extremely handsome man who keeps staring at you with those lovely hazel eyes and that ridiculously sweet smile. It’s nothing. He just needs some help with the buttons. Don’t think about it!” she told herself as she gently pushed his coat over his shoulders.

Carolina: hAHAHAHAHAHA THIS INNER MONOLOGUE I'M DEAD

He winced, hissing softly and her eyes shot up to his in concern. His eyes were squinted in pain, but he was looking at her. Still looking at her.

The coat fell to the ground with thud, but Hope found that she couldn’t look away from him. They stood in silence, watching the other for any sign of breaking the silence first. Hope still thought he was beautiful, as annoyed as that made her. He was covered in mud and his hair was sticking up in all directions, and she still thought he was beautiful.

Carolina: i just wanna say that i find the fact that she calls him beautiful to be very sweet and so so soft it genuinely makes my heart melt

But he hadn’t come back to see her.

This thought snapped her out of her reverie and she looked down, her attention on the buttons of his shirt once again. Her hands, she noticed, were shaking as she brought them up to the first button.

“I’m sorry.” The words were soft, so as not to startle her.

Carolina: yOU SHOULD BE... okay continue Lyall

Hope shook her head, focusing on the task at hand, which was horribly embarrassing if she really thought about it. But she knew Lyall needed help, so she was going to help him. Just as he had helped her. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Carolina: gIRL STOP LYING WHY U ALWAYS LYIN HE HURT YOU! AND THERE HAS BEEN NO EXPLANATION YET YOUR FRUSTRATION IS VALID

“I do.” His voice was full of regret as he said those two words. “I told you I’d come back to see you soon. And it’s been two weeks.”

Carolina: soon?? sOON?? LYALL LUPIN TWO WEEKS IS A LONG TIME IN THE 1950S WHEN YOU DONT HAVE ANOTHER WAY OF COMMUNICATING WITH SOMEONE YOU RANDOMLY MET IN THE WOODS

“I know. It doesn’t matter.”

Carolina: BUT IT DOES HOPE IT DOES DO YOU NOT REMEMBER YOUR THOUGHTS MOMENTS AGO WHILE YOU ANGRILY MADE BREAD??

Jo: I love you so much

He reached up with his hand and covered both of hers as they attempted to undo his buttons. The warmth of his hand made her pause. He said nothing, as if waiting, and finally, she looked up to meet his gaze. “It does.”

Carolina: my heaaaaart

Lyall was not used to having to answer to someone. After leaving his parents for school, he had become very independent. He enjoyed being his own man, coming and going as he pleased without anything to worry about. But his independence had hurt Hope, he could tell, and he was desperate to salvage the situation. “I got sent to Scotland for work. I couldn’t remember exactly where you lived and so I couldn’t send a letter or anything. If I had been able to, Hope, I would have come back the next day.”

His reasoning settled in her mind and Hope cocked her head as she looked at him. He realized, after she said nothing, that she was looking for a lie. “Alright.” She dropped her eyes again.

He groaned, not releasing her hands on his shirt. “You don’t believe me.”

Carolina: well no shit sherlock (i still love u lyall but i stand by my bby hope)

Her shoulders lifted in a shrug and she let out a disparaging laugh. “Lyall, I thought you didn’t exist. I thought I had just… created you in mind. I didn’t hear from you for two weeks and then all of a sudden you’re on my doorstep, hurt and covered in mud, and I’m just supposed to accept that you were called away on work and couldn’t reach me?”

Carolina: she's a smart cookie

There was a truth to her words and he let out a dejected sigh. She began unbuttoning his shirt once again and he let her, trying to help as she pushed the dirtied fabric over his shoulders. It joined his coat on the ground.

And then, Hope stopped.

Because Lyall Lupin was incredibly beautiful.

Hope’s older brother, Rhys, was training to be a doctor, and on occasion, Hope had gone to the hospital to visit him. The hospital was always full of wounded, shirtless people, but Hope had never really thought about it in the way she was now. Because the people at the hospital weren’t standing in her bathroom, after rescuing her in the woods and then not coming to see her for two weeks with a sad explanation and a need for a bath. The people in the hospital weren’t well-constructed male specimens who were fit and tanned and very very handsome. The people at the hospital didn’t make Hope feel like could melt into a puddle on the floor if they touched her.

No.

No, only Lyall Lupin could do that.

Carolina: Hope, do you need a glass of water for your thirst?

She cleared her throat, her eyes glued to his skin. She could feel the heat emanating from him and never before in her life had she fought so hard to resist an urge to touch someone.

Lyall smiled lightly at her attention and refused to move. He waited for her to make the first move. To touch him. To do something.

Hope turned away.

“I think you could leave your pants on and then get in the tub, that way I could help you wash. If you wanted.”

He had to laugh at that. “That sounds perfect,” came his response.

Carolina: me too lyall i'm laughing too xD

She nodded and turned her back to him completely, hoping that it wasn’t too obvious that she was listening to him undo his belt and drop his trousers to the floor. She bit her lip and stared up at the ceiling.

“God help me,” she whispered.

Carolina: she's a mess hahaha she's so far gone for him

Lyall stepped into the warm water with a quiet groan and situated himself comfortably before looking back at Hope.

“You’re alright to turn around now.”

Hope wasn’t sure that was true. She didn’t know how she was going to last with him looking like that in the bath water. Hoping to somehow magically keep her thoughts to herself, she pulled up the footstool by the tub.

Lyall began slowly scrubbing the mud from his skin with the small bar of soap. He winced as he stretched out his right shoulder and Hope felt concern pool in her stomach. She pushed him forward and examined his back. There, across his shoulder blade, was a deep gash that was surrounded with dark bruising. Her mouth fell open. He hadn’t said anything!

“Christ, Lyall! Why didn’t you tell me you were that hurt?”

He let out a pained laugh as she poked around the cut. “I don’t know. I was a bit preoccupied with the beautiful woman unbuttoning my shirt.”

Carolina: LYALL LUPIN YOU SHAMELESS MAN [fans self]

She leaned back and glared which made him bark out a genuine laugh. The sound made her heart flip in her chest.

“It’s a superficial wound, Hope. Nothing to worry about. I’ll go see a healer and be fit as a fiddle in no time.”

She quirked her head at his choice of the word “healer”, but said nothing.

Carolina: Lyall Lupin you're terrible at keeping magic a secret around a beautiful woman

Jo: CAN YOU BLAME HIM

She was sure he wouldn’t have an explanation anyway. So she went back to the task at hand. With a small towel, she began cleaning out the mud from Lyall’s hair, watching as the thick strands of hair returned back to its original golden brown color, without all the leaves and twigs.

“You certainly know how to make a right mess of yourself, Lyall Lupin,” she muttered.

They returned to the silence from before as they worked to clean him off. When there was a considerable less amount of mud on his skin, she had him stand. “We need to get you and your cut cleaned, and we can’t do that with muddy water,” she explained after Lyall’s sharp complaint as the cool air hit his skin. As the water drained from beneath him, they stood staring at each other.

In fascination, she watched as his whole body became covered in goosebumps from the cold. Before she could stop herself, her hand reached out to feel this skin on his chest. They both froze, realizing what she had just done, but neither of them were willing to say anything to break the moment. Hope pulled her hand back quickly as if she had been burned and then began filling the tub once again with warm water. Stunned, Lyall sat down hard, grateful for the warmth of the water to occupy his thoughts instead of her soft skin against his.

With a red face and a muttered excuse, Hope left the bathroom. She found spare clothes that looked as if they would fit Lyall in her father’s trunk. As she sorted through different trousers, she berated herself.

“You couldn’t just keep your hands to yourself?” she whispered in horror, replaying that moment over and over again in her mind. Had she really just done that?

Carolina: yES YOU DID YOU REALLY DID ~waggles eyebrows~

When she had found adequate clothing for him, she went to Rhys’ old room and dug up his old medical kit. He had gotten a much nicer medical kit as a wedding present from their parents, and so had left the old one at home, in case of emergencies. Hope sifted through the contents and pulled out a roll of gauze and a sturdy bandage. She would have to let him know to watch the wound for infection, but it would do for the time being.

Still horribly embarrassed over her lack of control, she returned to the bathroom.

“I brought you some clothes,” she announced, holding the pile in front of her. He smiled.

“Thank you. I know I’m intruding on your home and this wasn’t the way you expected to spend your evening, but I’m truly grateful Hope.”

Carolina: mhm mhm yes true but also consider: this was a much better way to spend her evening

She shrugged. “Consider us even.” She watched his face fall a bit before he plastered on a smile and laughed.

Carolina: does he think she won't ever want to see him again now??? oh my gosh this is so much mutual pining even tho they aRE CLEARLY HEAD OVER HEELS FOR EACH OTHER ALREADY

She left the pile of clothes on the counter and turned to go. “When you’re ready, before you put your shirt on, let me bandage your cut,” she said over her shoulder.

“There’s really no need-” she cut him off with a sharp look and he held up his hands in surrender. “Of course.”

After Hope had left the bathroom, she started to close the door, but without registering what she was doing, left it open a sliver. Just enough to peek in.

She watched in fascination as Lyall heaved in a breath and settled back against the tub. She felt she could examine him now, at this safer distance, without getting too overwhelmed. He was fit, for certain. His shoulders were broad and his muscles taut, though he was thin. He must do heavy labor, she thought to herself. She realized then that she had no idea what he did for work or why he was in Scotland in the first place. Pushing away that nagging suspicion, she returned to the task of blatantly staring at the beautiful man in her bathtub. He was totally relaxed, his eyes shut against the lamp in the bathroom, and Hope couldn’t help but rest her head against the doorframe. He looked like a painting.

After a minute or two in this fashion, Hope realized how inappropriately she was behaving and shook her head to rid her of her thoughts. “Idiot,” she whispered to herself, turning away from the opening and pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. What had gotten into her?

She stayed that way as she listened to Lyall stand from the bath. Next came the sound of rustling fabric as he toweled off and began putting on the clothes she had laid out for him. When the door opened a second later, he made a noise of surprise at seeing her there.

He had done as he was told and left the shirt off, but Hope fixed her eyes firmly on his face, determined not to let them go one inch lower. He smiled at her. “I’ve done as I’ve been told, captain. Where to next.”

She rolled her eyes at his quips and gestured for him to follow her through the back hallway and into the room at the very corner of the cottage. The light was slowly fading from the window and the sunlight caught Lyall’s hair in a way that was entirely too distracting. Annoyed at where her thoughts had gone once again, she pointed at the bed and commanded him to sit. He did so.

Hope picked up her pile of medical supplies and laid it out of the cover of the bed. The cut wasn’t deep enough for stitches, and she wasn’t sure she had the stomach for that now anyway. There was disinfectant and pain relievers and plenty of gauze.

“Do your worst, nurse Howell,” he said, his voice light, watching as she poured the disinfectant on a cloth to sanitize his wound. She thought for a moment that he seemed a little nervous. Hope rolled her eyes but slowly dabbed at the cut, ignoring the wince on Lyall’s face from the sting. The water had cleaned out the dirt and it had begun to bleed slightly at the attention. She covered the length of the cut with a strip of gauze and cut off the remains. After that, she wrapped the wound, pulling the bandage across his chest and under his arm over and over till she ran out. It wasn’t perfect but it would have to do.

He watched her as she did her work and couldn’t help but ask, “where did you learn about medicine?”

“My brother,” she shrugged. “He’s attempting to become a doctor, and with a mouth that big, you can’t help but pick up some things. Not to mention, he always wanted to practice on me as a patient.”

Lyall chucked, imagining Hope’s fury at being forced to participate. “How dreadful,” he said, though the humor was clear in his voice. She rolled her eyes.

While she finished the task at hand and began tying off the bandage, Lyall took notice of the room they were in. It was small and quaint. An old quilt hung up over the bed as decoration and there was a stack of various novels piled on the desk. The vase of flowers on the windowsill were slightly wilted, as if they weren’t important to the owner. The bedside table had a leatherbound journal and bible, and right next to the lamp, there was a small wrapped chocolate. Suddenly, Lyall understood.

“This is your bedroom,” he stated, looking up at her. It wasn’t a question, just a fact.

She nodded. It dawned on her then that Lyall was there, in her bedroom, partially undressed and it sent her cheeks burning. Seeing him there, so casual in her room, on her bed, had her heart pounding almost as hard as it had that day in the woods, but for an entirely different reason.

Carolina: my eyebrows could not have flow up higher than they did. wHATS ON YOUR MIND HOPE HUH???

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

That made her roll her eyes. “If I thought you were intruding, Lyall, I wouldn’t have brought you in here. Besides, it’s just a room.”

His eyes locked back onto the chocolate while Hope got up and helped him into his new shirt. When the fabric was settled against his skin, and she had made sure it hadn’t ruined her bandaging, he looked up at her. “That’s the chocolate I gave you.”

Her eyes widened and darted over to the bedside table where the guilty chocolate stood. After an awkward beat, she shrugged.

“I try not to eat candy from strangers I meet in the woods.”

He nodded sagely. “No, no, of course not. You just leave it out on your bedside table to look at on occasion.”

Carolina: THEY'RE BOTH SMART ASSES I LOVE THEM

Her eyes narrowed down at him, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “It was the only thing I had to remind me that you were real.” He gave her a soft smile but she ignored it. “It also reminds me that you didn’t come to see me for two whole weeks and still haven’t given me a good explanation,” she all but snapped.

Lyall sighed. “I told you, I was in Scotland.”

“Right. Of course. How could I forget?” The sarcasm in her tone was clear and she rolled her eyes, turning away from him.

“Hope, I-”

He was cut short by the sound of the front door opening. Mam was home. Hope’s eyes widened in terror, because Lyall was there, in her room, where young men definitely should not be, and had just been in her bath. And her Mam had no idea he even existed. “Oh no,” she whispered.

Carolina: everything about this. comedy g o l d

“What?” he asked, matching her tone.

“Calon Bach? Where are you? Why is the bread not done?” Her mother’s voice cut through the silence, making Hope wince.

Hope panicked. “She can’t know you’re here!” She whispered furiously. “She’ll beat me silly if she finds I have a man in the house. Let alone in my bedroom! You have to go! Right now!” She began pushing him toward the window, as he objected.

Carolina: oh my gosh. i am laughing as i type this. the window. thE WINDOW XD

“Hope, calm down. I’m sure it’ll be fine. We can just explain to her- Hope are you seriously going to push me out of the window?” She didn’t answer, she simply threw open the shutters and gestured for him to leave.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly.”

He let out an incredulous laugh. “Really, Hope?”

An eyebrow lifted at his tone. “My mother will skin my hide if she finds you in here, and then she’ll hang you out by the toes on the back line. Trust me, Lyall, it’ll be better for both of us if you just go. Now. Please.”

Carolina: okay but i wasn't prepared to have all the pining and staring and then have it turn into this teen romantic comedy it's amazing and i love it and i'm straight up crying at this point because it's so funny

“Calon Bach?” Her mother’s voice echoed around the house.

“Coming, mam! Just a minute!” She shooed Lyall out of the window and with a horrified yet amused look on his face, he began to exit through the opening. She watched as he swung one leg over the windowsill and straddled it before he froze and turned to her with a look of horror on his face.

“Hope, my clothes!”

Carolina: I FORGOT ABOUT THAT OMG THE CLOTHES IN THE BATHROOM

A gasp escaped her. “Go! I’ll go grab them.” Trying to be as quiet as possible, she rushed to the bathroom and gathered up his muddied clothes and boots. She returned to her room and saw Lyall standing in front of the window. She tossed him his clothes and then turned to leave.

In a flash, Lyall had reached through and clasped onto her arm, forcing her to stop in her tracks. “Wait.”

She turned, her face turning red at the physical contact. She really needed to get a better hold of herself. She waited, watching him as his eyes searched her face.

“What?” she finally asked, feeling nervous from his attention.

“Can I see you again?”

Without meaning to, she sighed. “Lyall-”

“I mean it, Hope. And this time, I’ll actually come soon. Probably tomorrow. But I have to know that’s what you want. If you don’t want to see me again, you just have to say, and I’ll never come back.”

Carolina: LYALL LUPIN YOU SWEET AND RESPECTFUL BOY

She stopped short, taking in the set position of his mouth and the honesty in his eyes. He was serious. He really would never come back if that’s what she wanted. Even though she hardly knew him, and even though she wanted better answers than the ones he had given her, and even though she was dreadfully annoyed at his absence for the past two weeks, she was still grateful to have met him. He made her feel something she had never felt before. And she wanted to keep feeling that way.

“Hope.”

She closed her eyes at the sound of his voice saying her name. She would never grow tired of that.

Carolina: JO HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT THIS IS THE TYPE OF STUFF THAT MELTS MY HEART INTO A PUDDLE OF HOPELESS ROMANTIC???

Jo: because we're the same person and IT DOES THE SAME THING TO ME. Also, please note i wrote this next part solely for you

Carolina: oh my goodness i love you and i'm ready to read it

“Yes.” the word popped out of her mouth suddenly and her eyes opened to meet his. “Yes, I want to see you again. Please.”

He grinned at her.

“Tomorrow then.”

“I won’t get my hopes up.”

He laughed. “You’re wrong about me, Hope. I promise. You’ll see.” He slid his grasp from her forearm down to her hand. His touch was gentle as he drew her hand close to his lips and pressed a kiss to her heated skin. She was bright red, she was sure.

Carolina: I AM A MESS OF HUMAN RIGHT NOW I JUST SCREAMED INTO MY PILLOW GET YOU A MAN LIKE LYALL LUPIN WHO KISSES YOUR HAND AND MAKES YOU PROMISES AND IS SO TENDER AND AHAAOIDHASILFJHAVWRVUWA

After a moment, he drew back and smiled up at her. It took her breath away.

Carolina: ME TOO HOPE ME TOO I DONT THINK MY HEART IS FUNCTIONING PROPERLY RIGHT NOW

He turned and started jogging away. She held herself up using the windowsill and watched him go. But she had to ask just one more question.

“Lyall!”

Carolina: gIRL? do you not?? remember?? that your mother??? is in the house???? you are playing with fIRE RIGHT NOW

He turned around, a panicked look on his face as he registered her volume and held up a finger to his lips to quiet her. She winced as she remembered that her mother was just down the hall, but this was important. “Why? After you got hurt, why did you come here of all places? You must have guessed I didn’t want to see you. But somehow, you knew I would help you. How did you know? Why did you come?”

He smiled this strange kind of smile, as if he was sharing a joke with himself. And then he shrugged.

“Well, Miss Howell, it was the only place I could think of,” he winked as he said this, then turned again and headed down the path.

Carolina: (because he apparated there) OH HEY NOW COOL YES I LIKE THAT BECAUSE THAT MEANS HE WAS THINKING OF HER YEAH I LIKE THIS IDEA!

Also Carolina: ugh catch me swooning because of Lyall Lupin

Jo: Mood

Hope watched him until he became a blur in the distance. And then he was gone.

Her heart was full of longing for whatever new adventure Lyall Lupin brought with him the next time they met and she bit her lip to keep herself from smiling.

“Til tomorrow,” she whispered.

Carolina: mhm mhm mhm i cANT WAIT I AM THOROUGHLY ENGAGED WITH THIS STORY AND IN LOVE WITH THIS LOVE STORY

I hope you enjoyed part two of my writing and Carolina having a heart attack over it. I hope I can finish this story eventually, but I just had to share the gem that Carolina is. I just like her a lot. That’s all!

#my writing #hope lupin #lyall lupin #the lupins #remus lupin

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winchester-fantasies · 5 years

Text

Kinda Glad We Got Lost

Summary: You and Sam find yourselves lost in the forest. With no rescue in sight you’re forced to take drastic measures to survive, leading to revelations and unexpected feelings.

Word Count: 4024

Warnings: smut, swearing, li’l bit of fluff

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Winchester Fantasies’ Masterlist

Your teeth chattered, and your body shivered as the cold seeped through the fabric of your jacket. Your breath puffed in the frigid air and with each breath, the pinpricks of coldness filled your lungs. You were almost certain icicles had formed in your hair from the snow that had landed in it.

You glanced beside you. Sam sat hunched over, his back against a massive tree trunk. You straightened up, your coat scraping against your own tree.

“Hey,” you said, your voice raspy and throat aching from the frozen air. Sam glanced at you and sniffed.

“You okay?” you asked.

Sam let out a harsh chuckle. “I've seen better days,” he said.

You huffed sardonically. “I'm sure Dean will be here any time,” you said in reassurance, but it came out more as wishful thinking.

It had been almost four hours since you and Sam had ventured into the woods. You had come to check out a lead on the werewolf case you and the Winchesters were working.

The werewolf had run when you and Sam had barged into its log cabin. It had run for the woods, and you both followed after it. Once Sam had killed it, however, you realized just how deep into the woods the wolf had led you. With no sense of direction in the waning light and little to no reception for your phones’ navigation you realized how screwed you really were.

You'd had just enough battery and cell reception to get ahold of Dean. You told him your predicament and begged him to come get you both if he was able to track your GPS and find your location. The temperature was already dropping, and you implored him to hurry. You'd said goodbye with Dean promising he was on his way.

But that was almost two hours ago, and Dean still hadn't arrived. You knew it shouldn't have taken him that long to get there. The cottage was only about forty-five minutes from your motel.

You worried your lip as you took your phone from your pocket. The screen remained black when you pushed the ON button. You cursed under your breath when you realized it was completely dead.

“Wh...what's wrong?” Sam asked, his teeth now chattering, too.

“Phone's dead,” you said, stuffing your cell back into your pocket. You pulled your jacket tighter around you, but it only seemed to bring the cold closer to you. Whatever had possessed you to wear a jacket and not your heavy-duty Carhartt like you normally did you didn't know. Maybe you thought it wouldn't take too long - be an in and out two-silver-bullets-to-the-heart kind of case.

It had been a relatively easy case, but now you were lost and your only hope of rescue was a no-show.

You hunched farther into the tree, bringing your knees to your chest. Your fingers were turning numb, and every movement left you feeling more and more lethargic. You silently prayed Dean would show up at any moment as you looked up. Snow had started falling in earnest, blanketing the ground in a rapidly thickening layer on anything it could land on, including you and Sam.

This was just great! Of all the damn things you hunted and all the bodily harm you put yourself through and sustained, you were going to die from freezing to death. Who would have thought?

“(Y/N),” Sam said. His voice was uncharacteristically low and quiet, like he didn't have quite enough strength to speak.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“Take your clothes off,” Sam demanded. You laughed, but it quickly faded when Sam didn't return your joviality. He was serious wasn't he?

“Um, excuse me?” you asked incredulously.

“I said, take your clothes off,” Sam said a little louder as if he thought you couldn't hear him.

“Yeah, I caught that,” you said. “And I'm gonna say it again…. Excuse me?”

Sam sighed. “I read an article once that gave survival tips on how to combat hypothermia. It said sharing body heat could keep a person alive till proper care.”

“Well, I don't mind sharing body heat,” you said. “But can't we do that without taking our clothes off?”

Sam shook his head. “Nope. They said the most effective way was skin to skin contact.”

You looked away and worried your lower lip. This really shouldn't be an issue. You were freezing to death for fuck’s sake! But there was still a part of you that hesitated to get so up close and intimate with the man you'd held a torch for, for over a year now.

“(Y/N),” Sam's voice interrupted your train of thought. “We're out in the elements, it's snowing and freezing, and we don't know when or even if Dean is coming.”

“Of course he's coming!” you snapped. You didn't want to face the thought of being left for dead in the middle of nowhere. Once the snow buried your body and the scavengers came, there'd be no finding your remains.

“I'm sure he is,” Sam said, seeming to sense your fear. “I'm just trying to point out that we don't know how long we're going to be out here before help arrives.”

When you didn't answer he continued. “Look, you don't have to take off all your clothes. You can just take your top off. As long as we have some skin to skin contact we'll be good. Huddling close will take care of the rest.”

You closed your eyes and shook your head. “Fine,” you grumbled. You got up from your perch, your body stiff and numb. You took your jacket off, the wind seeming to pick up with a vengeance. You shivered as you lifted your light sweater over your head and unclasped your bra. You tossed them to the ground before picking your jacket up off the ground and sprinting to Sam's side.

He'd already stripped, and although you couldn't make out any definite details about him in the dark, your mind happily filled in the details as he drew you into him.

He lowered himself to the ground again, pulling you into his lap. You straddled his thighs, locking your ankles behind his back. He put his coat on and pulled yours tighter around you, insulating the warmth between you. He wrapped his arms around you snuggly.

“There,” Sam said. “That's already better.”

His chest was warm and skin soft against your own. You could feel some of his battle scars, raised and slightly rough. Your nipples were taut from the cold, and you couldn't help the warmth that rose to your cheeks at what it must feel like for him to have your breasts pressed against him.

“You have a cap?” Sam asked you.

You shook your head. “No,” you said.

“A scarf?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” you said, reaching into your pocket and pulling it out.

“Good,” Sam said. “Put it on.”

“What about you?” you asked, leaning back in his lap and winding the scarf around your neck.

Sam waved off your concern. “I'll be fine,” he reassured. “I just want to make sure you're okay.”

You knew his words were meant in a kind, friendly, and probably even brotherly way, but his protectiveness had you feeling all sorts of flustered as you settled into his arms again. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and snaked your hands underneath his coat. His back flexed under your touch as your fingers slid over pure muscle.

You laid your head on his shoulder, your nose nestling into the thick fabric of his coat. Warmth filled your stomach and settled in your nether regions as your senses were permeated with his scent - cedarwood and old books.

Sam nuzzled his face into your hair, and he drew in a deep breath. “You smell good,” he chuckled, mimicking your thoughts. His lips had grazed your neck when he'd spoken, and you couldn't deny your desire as wetness pooled beneath you. You knew your panties were already ruined, but you desperately hoped Sam wouldn't be able to feel your arousal.

“Feeling warmer?” Sam asked.

“Starting to,” you said. “You?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Can't feel my fingers, though,” he laughed, drumming them on your back.

“Here,” you said. You opened your jacket wide. The snow had stopped, and the full moon peeked through the clouds, lighting the area around you. Sam's gaze landed on your chest, his eyes subconsciously roaming over your breasts.

He cleared his throat as he seemed to realize what he was doing. “Oh, uh, thanks,” he muttered. He slid his hands under your jacket.

“Holy shit!” you exclaimed. “Your hands are fucking freezing,” you said as they came to rest on your back.

Sam chuckled. “Told you I couldn't feel my digits,” he said.

Your body warmed, and over the next couple of hours you actually dozed off. But each time your eyes would grow heavy and you would become a little too inactive in his arms, Sam would wake you. You grumbled, complaining you were exhausted and just wanted to catch a few minutes of shut eye. But Sam argued the danger in that. He was afraid if you fell asleep, you wouldn't wake up.

“Any word from Dean?” you asked groggily as Sam jostled you awake once again.

Sam sighed heavily. “No, and my phone's on twelve percent,” he said.

You paused. You didn't want to imagine or even speak your worst fears into existence, but the longer you were in the forest, the more likely it seemed you and Sam wouldn't be getting out.

“Sam,” you whispered. “What if he doesn't come?” you asked.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked. “You were so adamant he'd be here just a while ago.”

“I know,” you said. “It's just...we've been out here for so long already, and we haven't heard anything from Dean.”

“Listen, (Y/N), I know it seems hopeless,” Sam said. “But we've survived this long. I don't know why we haven't heard from Dean, but I'm sure there's a good reason. We just have to hold on a little longer and then….”

“Shh!” you hissed shrilly. “Shut up!” you barked when Sam kept rambling on. He immediately fell quiet.

“Did you hear that?” you whispered tensely.

“Hear what?” Sam asked in confusion.

“Sh...sh,” you admonished. “Just listen.” You leaned away from him and cocked your head, straining to pick up on what you'd heard.

“There!” you exclaimed softly. It was a distant cry, like somebody calling out for someone.

“Sounds like voices,” Sam stated.

“That's what I'm thinking,” you said excitedly as you scrambled out of his lap. You hurriedly zipped up your jacket, and Sam did the same as he rose from the ground.

The sound was closer now, and you could clearly make out the distinct sound of voices. You couldn't quite hear what they were saying, but you caught the tail end. “...am!” the voice said loudly.

“Sam!” they called again, and you could just make out what they were saying as they neared you and Sam.

“(Y/N)!” another voice called, this time clear as day.

“Oh, my god, Sam!” you exclaimed, gripping his arm. “They're calling our names! They're here to rescue us!”

You turned back to where the voices were still calling out for you and Sam. “Yes!” you screamed into the night. “We're over here!” You jumped up and down, desperately trying to get their attention.

You could hear soft footfalls crunching in the snow, but they suddenly veered to the left of you, clearly disoriented. “No, no, wait!” you cried out. “You're going the wrong way! Stop for a second,” you begged.

The footsteps stilled, and you turned to Sam. “Does your phone still have power?” you asked breathlessly.

“Yeah, I think so,” Sam said, taking it from his pocket. The screen lit up when he pressed the ON button. “Yep,” he said. “Still have eight percent.”

“Turn the flashlight on!” you urged. “We can wave it in the air so they can see us.”

“Good idea,” Sam said as he turned on the light and raised it high above his head. He waved it slowly back and forth as you turned back to where your rescuers stood silently.

“Hello?” you hollered. “We've got a flashlight! Can you see it?”

Your question was met with silence, and your stomach knotted at the fear that maybe they hadn't waited like you'd asked.

“Yes! We see it!” one of the voices called back, and you let out the breath you hadn't even realized you were holding.

“We're coming for you!” the other person said. “Just sit tight and keep the flashlight on!”

Moments later two men stepped out from the shadows. They were dressed in ranger uniforms, and you sighed in relief as you realized your salvation was finally there.

“Sam Winchester and (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” the taller one, about Sam's height, asked.

“Yes!” you and Sam answered in unison.

The mens’ faces broke into relieved grins. “Ranger Bunch,” the tall one introduced himself. “And this is my partner, Ranger Keats.”

“Your brother called us for in help retrieving you two,” Keats said, addressing Sam. “He was trying to get to you himself, but the snow had impacted the road so bad he couldn't get past the bridge.”

“Didn't know if we'd even be able to find you,” Bunch admitted. “Not with all this nasty weather and it being so dark out.”

“Well, I'm really glad you did,” you chuckled.

“Us, too, young lady,” Bunch said. “Now let's get you two somewhere where it's warmer.”

“Our station isn't too far from here,” Keats said. “You can sleep there tonight, and we can figure out what to do in the morning.”

**********

“So how long were you kids out there?” Bunch asked.

You and Sam sat huddled together on a wooden bench, wrapped in thick wool navy blankets, drinking hot chocolate, and eating MREs the rangers had provided. You pulled your blanket tighter around your shoulders. “Six hours,” you said past the food in your mouth.

Bunch's eyebrows shot up, and Keats let out a low whistle. “Holy smokes!” Bunch exclaimed. “It’s at least 35° outside. How did you manage that?”

“Took our clothes off and used our body warmth,” Sam said before taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks at his brazen yet nonchalant retelling. “Well, only our shirts,” you said, feeling as if you needed to justify your actions.

Neither ranger seemed to bat an eyelash at Sam's revelation. Instead, Bunch smiled proudly. “You're a couple o’ smart cookies,” he praised, looking between you and Sam.

Keats nodded his head in agreement. “Do you know how many times we've been called to look for someone who went missing in weather like this and they're dead?”

Bunch shook his head. “Too many to count, unfortunately,” he said remorsefully. “You kids were one of the lucky ones.”

You and Sam exchanged a look, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in. You had both been so close to not walking out of that forest.

You smiled, trying to relieve some of the tension in the room. “Well, if it hadn't been for his quick thinking and smarts,” you said, jostling Sam's shoulder with your own, “we wouldn't have made it.”

Bunch smiled. “Like I said: Couple o’ smart cookies.”

By this time you and Sam had finished your food and drank the last of your hot chocolate. You stifled a yawn, your body giving in to exhaustion now that you were warm and full.

“I have a room set up for you both in the back,” Keats commented, motioning for you and Sam to follow him. “Even lit the wood burning stove,” he said with a grin.

“It’s not much,” Keats said as you and Sam stepped into the small office. The wood burning stove sat in the far corner, a large plywood table next to it, its top scattered with various tools and instruments. Behind the table, a large map of the forest hung on the wall. A sizable window looked out over the woods, the treetops heavy with fresh snow. A small cot sat under it, two navy blankets and a pillow sitting on the end.

“Sorry there's only one cot,” Keats said apologetically.

“No, this is great,” Sam said with a grateful smile. “We really appreciate you and Ranger Bunch helping us out.”

“Wouldn't be rangers if we didn't,” Keats said. “You two get some rest, and we'll talk in the morning.” He exited the room, leaving you and Sam alone.

Sam pulled the cot closer to the wood burning stove. He straightened and smiled, gesturing for you to lay down first. You suddenly felt very shy and a little bit nervous about sharing a bed with him despite the fact you had spent the better part of two hours with your bare chest pressed against his.

You laid down, pulling one of the blankets up to your chin. The cot dipped slightly, and then Sam was behind you, your back pressed firmly against his front. “You can have the pillow,” Sam offered, holding it out for you to take.

You shook your head. “No, you can take it. You were out there sitting on the cold, hard ground for nearly six hours, and you didn’t once fall asleep. I just sat in your lap and dozed off a couple of times,” you chuckled. “You need it more than I do,” you said sincerely.

“Sam, really, I mean it. Take it,” you insisted when he tried to argue.

“Fine,” Sam grumbled. “But what are you gonna use?”

You shrugged. “It’s only a few hours till morning. I don’t really need anything.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Sam sighed. “Here,” he said. You felt his arm snake under you, your head resting on his bicep.

“Won’t you be uncomfortable?” you asked skeptically.

“Nah,” Sam reassured. “You comfortable?”

You snuggled in tighter, and Sam’s fingers lightly brushed your waist, sending warmth through your body. “Yes,” you sighed, nuzzling your face into the soft skin of his arm.

“Good,” Sam said. “’Night, (Y/N).”

“Good night, Sam.”

**********

You woke up the next morning to light streaming through the window. You hummed and rubbed your feet together contentedly, relishing the warmth surrounding you. Sam drew in a deep breath behind you, and you were suddenly aware of his arm around your middle as he tightened his hold, pulling you closer into his chest.

“Morning,” Sam muttered, his voice deep with sleep.

“Mmm,” you responded with a small smile.

Silence fell between you both, and you started dozing off again until you felt Sam’s fingers stroke your stomach. Your eyes shot open and you lay still, waiting for him to stop so your heart would stop its pounding, but he didn’t. What the hell was he doing?

“You know,” Sam said softly. “I realized something when we were out there.”

“Oh, yeah?” you asked when he fell silent again.

“Yeah,” Sam said, his voice deep and emotional. “All I could think about was making sure you were okay…. That I kept you safe.”

Your stomach flipped as he continued. “And I realized...I realized that I…. Well, I...I love you. And I think I have for a while now.”

He went quiet, his admission hanging in the air. You felt as if your breath had been knocked out of you. He felt the same way? It hadn’t been something you’d even considered.

You were so in shock that you must have stayed quiet too long because Sam withdrew his arm from around you. “You know what? Forget I said anything. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I don’t know why I even said that,” Sam retracted quickly, chuckling sheepishly.

You quickly rolled over, facing him. “No, no!” you reassured. “I love you, too,” you said, raising your hand to his face.

His eyes widened in surprise, but just as suddenly they darkened. In one swift motion he wrapped his arms around you and crashed his lips to yours. Your hand fell to the back of his neck and pulled him impossibly closer, feverish for his touch.

Sam slid his tongue between your lips, and you welcomed him in. His hands roamed your body, caressing every curve and dip of your body. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your hands snaking under his shirt and lightly massaging his back.

You whimpered as his hand glided down your torso and slipped past the waistband of your jeans and into your panties. His touch ghosted your heated core, his fingers sliding between your folds, discovering your arousal.

He dipped a finger into you before finding precedence over your clit. His fingers rubbed slow and controlled circles over the swollen bud. Your legs shook, and a soft moan left your lips.

Sam didn’t stop until you were writhing, your hips bucking up to meet his hand. A thin sheen of sweat had already started forming on your brow and upper lip when he finally stilled, and you lay breathing heavily, reveling in the pleasure that still coursed through your body.

You sat up as Sam lifted your shirt over your head, dropping it to the floor. His hands unbuttoned your jeans next, his eyes never leaving yours as he pulled them slowly down your legs. You shivered as his fingers skimmed over the waistband of your panties and slipped them off you, his fingers brushing your skin with a feather light and fiery touch.

He quickly shed his own clothes once you were completely naked. He leaned down, his lips making contact with the soft flesh of your inner thighs as he spread your legs. A trembling breath rushed from your mouth, and an all new wave of arousal fell over you. He left a trail of kisses and gentle nips before reaching your core. He placed a soft kiss to your clit, a quiet whine emanating from your throat.

He crawled up the cot until he was in between your thighs. You reached up and pulled him down for another searing kiss. His erection nudged your folds, and you silently reached between your bodies and grasped him, lining him up and guiding him into you.

You gasped as he slowly pushed himself the rest of the way in. You closed your eyes and bit your lip - he felt wonderful. When you opened your eyes again he was watching you with a soft smile on his lips. “We have to be quiet,” he whispered.

You could hear Bunch and Keats moving around in the other room, their voices muffled. You nodded. Sam lowered his mouth to yours just as he started moving.

The wood burning stove wrapped you in warmth, and the light from the morning sun glistened off Sam’s rapidly dampening back as he thrust into you, his movements slow and unhurried. You gripped his shoulders, and Sam grunted as your walls fluttered.

Sam buried his face into your neck, his breathing heavy. “You feel so good,” he panted into your ear. His praise sent you over the edge, your coil snapping.

“Sam!” you exclaimed, your voice a harsh whisper as your orgasm crashed over you. Sam groaned as your walls clamped down around him.

“Don’t,” you gasped as he started to pull out. “Want all of you,” you said.

He pushed back in again, thrusting a few more times before he came, your name leaving his lips as he spilled his seed into you. He fell on top of you, his arms wrapping around you. You stroked his back, enjoying the closeness you had just shared.

He pulled out and rolled to his back, pulling you on top of him. He threw one of the blankets over your bodies before enveloping you once again. You nuzzled your face into his neck as your fingers stroked his jaw. “I’m kinda glad we got lost,” you giggled.

Sam chuckled, tightening his hold on you. “Yeah, me, too,” he said, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Me, too.”

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

Thank you for reading!

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

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam winchester smut #supernatural fanfiction

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slash-em-up · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary: The Collector x Reader

A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE TO YOU ALL!!!! Why not start the holiday off right with some slasher goodness?? This is a holiday gift for the lovely, amazing, cursed, CCO @voorheehees LOVE YOU KAT!!!

—————————————————————

You had no idea how things had gone so wrong so fast.

Asa had awoken you from a deep sleep, looking like he’d just walked through hell to come find you. He was covered in small burns and favoring one leg as he quietly told you to pack a bag and get to the car as quickly as possible.

The chilly December air nipped at your fingers as you were hustled into the old green Buick, quietly asking the stiff man at your side where the dogs were.

Asa didn’t respond, which was enough to tell you that your canine companions would not be joining you on your journey.

The car smelled strongly of smoke and the tang of iron blood; and you took another long look at Asa as he fiddled with the radio, quickly finding a local news channel before starting the car and driving away from your quiet neighborhood.

You opened your mouth to ask for an explanation when the newscaster mentioned the Argento – you were immediately and entirely focused as the story (or some version of it) was laid out in unemotional reporting.

The fire, the bodies, Arkin O’Brian, and the masked serial killer who’d been threatening the city… thought to be dead in the blaze.

Your gaze returned to Asa, finding his jaw clenched and his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

“Asa, I..”

You were brusquely interrupted.

“Don’t.”

You closed your mouth, turning away to stare out the window at the cars speeding past on the highway.

“Where are we going?” You softly inquired.

It took a moment for Asa to answer, his voice uncharacteristically rough when he did.

“My family had a cabin on a lake about two and a half hours from here. I still technically own it. It’s as good a place as any to lay low for awhile.”

It didn’t feel right for you to be the pragmatic one in your relationship; but you had to ask…

“Won’t people wonder where we went?”

Asa let out a small chuckle that was anything but humorous.

“I was planning on taking you there this week anyway. For Christmas. Myrtle and Hiram promised to check our mail.”

That was… unexpected. Though you’d been together for well over two years now, you had yet to celebrate any holiday’s together. Asa had expressed his disdain for the seasonal celebrations on multiple occasions (especially Thanksgiving for some reason he refused to share); scoffing at your happy recollections of family Christmases and Easters.

So to have him plan something like this was unanticipated in the extreme – and you knew that were the final circumstances surrounding your swift departure different you’d be giddy at the prospect of sharing the Yuletide with Asa.

The early morning sun was covered by grey clouds, and the first drifts of white snow began to fall gently as you curled up in your seat and fell back into a fitful slumber.

You woke up in a bed you didn’t recognize.

The momentary panic this brought you quickly abated as you discovered yourself wrapped tightly in Asa’s large winter coat, and saw both your bags sitting by the gigantic picture window against one wall.

With a sigh, you leaned back and surveyed your surroundings – they were quite frankly atrocious if you were being completely honest.

Not the bones of the room - high wood beams and a small fireplace giving the space the potential for coziness; but the décor had clearly not been updated since the 60’s, and every surface you saw was covered in a thick layer of dust.

‘Something to work on tomorrow…’

Shuffling noises from the nearby ensuite drew your attention, and you could see Asa through the cracked door, shirtless, clad only in his boxers, gingerly dabbing some type of ointment on fresh pink burns that littered his torso.

You watched quietly until he picked up a needle and surgical thread, moving to sew together a slice on his midriff.

Quietly crawling out of the warm bed, you pulled his coat closer around your body as you stepped into the bathroom.

Asa looked up at you without comment as you surveyed the damage done by his eventful evening.

Burns covered knife wounds, both small and large and one eye was beginning to swell with what you suspected would be quite an impressive shiner by the next morning. His jaw was likewise beginning to show signs of bruising; and you had to hold back a sympathetic wince, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate your pity.

“Let me.”

You took the needle from his hand, noting that he’d already stitched up a small puncture above his knee – that must have hurt like a mother fucker.

He did no more than sigh as you quickly pulled the thread through, neatly closing the wound, before wrapping it in soft gauze and surgical tape.

Surveying your work with a critical eye, you were surprised when a large hand rose to wrap itself in your hair, pulling your head down to rest against Asa’s. Forehead to forehead you stared into his jet-colored eyes, trying to make your gaze say what your mouth wouldn’t.

‘I’m glad you’re alright. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I need you. I love you.’

Asa closed his eyes and shivered, feeling the weight of the day come down on him all at once. He rose slowly, still holding you close, and walked you both back to the bed.

He was out like a light the second his head hit the pillow; but you stayed awake. Watching the bruised face of the man you couldn’t help but love soften in sleep.

The future was more uncertain than it had ever been before for the both of you; but you knew that whatever happened, you’d face it by his side.

———————————————————————

Asa slept through the day, and into the next evening.

You’d taken it upon yourself to make the old cabin a bit more habitable while you waited for him to wake.

The snow, which had begun falling in earnest when you’d poked your head through the god-awful puce curtains that first morning now coated the forest and nearby lake like frosting.

You were eternally grateful that Asa’s bug-out supplies held a large selection of canned goods, otherwise you might have starved or needed to brave the treacherous roads in search of food. An ancient tea kettle served it’s purpose well enough, and after a thorough dusting, you sat contemplating the winter wonderland outside the window, hands curled around a steaming mug of earl grey.

The fireplace crackled with burning wood as you made every effort to warm the large living room – age and disuse making the electric heater give a sad splutter before wheezing out a small gust of warm air, barely enough to feel – thus, a fire, and several layers of thick blankets had become your best friends as you rested on the couch.

The coffee table in front of you held the spoils of your cleaning endeavors- two worn photographs of the cabins former residents.

It was easy to see where Asa got his looks from – he’d grown from a small, chubby boy into the spitting image of his father. But what you were most interested in was the mousy woman and three slender girls standing to either side of Asa and his father.

The contrast between the two pictures was startling – the image of the whole family showed a bleak, unsmiling group – the large man who’s face Asa now bore grasping the shoulder of his wife and son perhaps a bit tighter than he ought, while the three young girls (Asa’s sisters?), stood straight backed, and wide-eyed.

The second was a picture of just the children.

The sisters and Asa were scattered about on the same couch you now inhabited; gathered around an old board game. One of the girls looked like she had been caught mid-laugh, and the other two were smiling widely as well. The tiny boy who would grow to be the man resting upstairs was standing, arms thrown up in what you could assume was victory – looking like the very picture of youthful innocence and joy.

“That was the last time we stayed here.”

You gasped in surprise and whirled in your seat, finding Asa standing a few feet behind you.

“I’m sorry… I found them while I was dusting… I…”

He waved from your apologies, coming to sit next to you with a low groan, clearly still feeling the impact of That Night on his body.

Asa lightly ran a finger around the corners of the picture of himself and the girls, a small smile quirking the corner of his bruised mouth.

“It was always… good… when we were here. Father spent most of his time out in his workshop, so we’d be left to amuse ourselves. This was the first time I’d beaten Erin at Monopoly.”

You didn’t want to interrupt this uncharacteristic peak into Asa’s past; but you couldn’t help but ask;

“Erin?”

Asa nodded.

“My oldest sister. Erin, Patricia, and Clara.”

“They were very pretty.”

Asa snorted. “No, they weren’t. They looked too much like mother… but they were smart.”

His fingers glided over to the second picture of the entire family; mouth thinning into a firm line before he turned the image over – revealing handwritten text.

‘The Emory Family: Giles, Anne, Erin, Patricia, Clara, Asa – 1976’

He leaned back into the couch, lost in thought, and you took the opportunity to scoot in a bit closer to his side.

You wrapped an arm through his and leaned your head against his shoulder, smiling a bit as you felt his gaze turn back to you and huff in amusement.

Threading your fingers together – being cautious of his bruised knuckles, you squeezed his hand affectionately.

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

“We’ll go back to the city in a week – wait for things to die down again and start over…”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

Asa made a questioning noise.

“I mean, even if things hadn’t all gone to hell, you were going to bring me here, to your family’s cabin, where you have good memories… for Christmas. That means a lot to me.”

The large man next to you said nothing, always awkward and uncomfortable when things became emotional.

He cleared his throat.

“I’ll shovel the driveway tomorrow morning … there should still be a pine farm close by if you want to go pick out a tree…”

You grasped his head gently between your hands and planted a soft kiss on his lips, cutting off whatever else he would have said.

“That sounds perfect. Now come over here and hold me before I freeze to death.”

Asa did chuckle at this, and returned your smile with one of his own as he pulled you in closer to his body, rubbing your arm through the blanket.

You both turned to quietly watch the snow fall, hiding you away from the world and it’s worries for just a little while. No matter what came in the future, you knew you’d hold this Christmas close to your heart.

Just like Asa had known in his youth, sometimes all you needed to make the world seem less bleak was a little sanctuary.

#asa emory #the collector (2009)#the collection (2012)#slasher fiction #the collector x reader #asa emory x reader #horror movies #jessica writes

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thermopylod · 4 years

Link

With a 2+ month delay, the epilogue to Interrupted Lines. Sorry this took so long, for those who were waiting :)

February had felt like a slice of heaven, the taste of Yu like ambrosia on his lips, but all good things had to come to an end. So it was that Yosuke found himself running alongside his friends in a little train station unused to such fervent goodbyes. When the train finally went too far for even its taillights to be distinguishable in the distance, he slowly walked back, and sat on the solitary bench on the platform, right underneath the great clock. The others crowded around him to cheer him up, but he only gave them absent smiles when they tried to suggest one activity or another to occupy the rest of his day.

He knew they meant well, trying to distract him, but Yosuke found that he wasn’t quite ready to go home and get on with his life yet. He was… sad, of course, but that was a given. That was fine; it would have been much more worrying if he hadn’t been sad. That wasn’t why he wanted to sit here a while longer.

Yu would come to visit for Golden Week in just a few short months, and maybe Yosuke would get to go see him before that, so this wasn’t some permanent goodbye, but his departure still felt like the end of a chapter, if not of the whole story. That feeling, of endings and new beginnings, had Yosuke feeling uncharacteristically introspective as he watched clouds flow across the sky.

He wasn’t the same person who’d ridden into this very station a year and some months ago anymore. He knew he had a few months left before he could call himself an adult, but sometimes it surprised him how much he’d grown over so short a time. He felt like he knew who he was, these days, in a way he never truly had before—back when he’d only been going through the motions, letting magazines and TV tell him what he liked and disliked, what his dreams were. Somehow, in the process of saving the world, he wondered if maybe he hadn’t saved himself, too.

The others were long gone by the time he finally picked up the wrapped package that sat next to him; even Teddie had headed home after giving him an uncharacteristically gentle hug and a pat on the head that had made him laugh.

“From Yu,” the elaborately handwritten tag read. Yu. Everything had revolved around him this past year, of course. It was almost strange to imagine life in Inaba moving on without him, so completely had he permeated every layer of the small town’s society. Last year, Yosuke’d resented him for that. He’d been jealous of the way the mantle of leadership settled on his shoulders like it had always belonged there, of the magnetic way he drew others to him; and then there’d been that colossal mistake of a summer, and he’d been angry at feeling like a joke, like a toy to be discarded and replaced when it didn’t perform as expected.

But even that had been part of the journey; he’d learned a lot about himself on those late, lonely nights sitting by the Samegawa. In that darkness, he’d finally managed to stop lying, at least to himself, and admit that maybe what he’d been most scared of all this time was of himself, and of the dreams and hopes that didn’t fit the mold he’d expected his life to fit into. It was a strange thing, honesty; it was both so much harder to face, and yet so much simpler to live with, than denial. Then again, that shouldn’t have come as a surprise after the TV world; hadn’t that been its message all along? Accept yourself.

So Yosuke had accepted himself. He’d accepted that he wanted more from life than slowly climbing the ladder of retail work at Junes, spending his money on whatever he was told the right clothes and the right movies were that month. He’d accepted that he couldn’t always be the happy, comic-relief friend people expected him to be. And, perhaps hardest of all, he’d accepted that he didn’t dream of soft curves and sleek long hair at night, but rather of a silver bowl cut and muscles that were anything but delicate.

He’d been jealous at the beginning, but it was much harder to resent someone when you’d seen them broken, sobbing in a cold November snow, and when all the envy and the anger and the fear had fallen away, all that had been left was love.

Yosuke smiled as he sliced through the tape on the expertly-wrapped package with the edge of his nail. He wouldn’t have expected anything less from Mr. “Good With His Hands” Narukami. To his surprise, it revealed a worn novel he recognized; he knew that specific copy, having seen it on Yu’s shelf every time he’d come over to his house. It was one of Yu’s favorite books, which he’d had from childhood. Yosuke had promised to read it over their time apart so they could discuss it the next time they met, but he hadn’t expected to be given the original copy.

He carefully opened the front cover, mindful of the threadbare spine, to find that Yu had not only given him one of his most prized possessions, but had even defaced it for him. The entire double page was filled with Yu’s neat handwriting.

To my beloved partner, Yosuke started reading, letting his fingers trail over the slight indentation the ballpoint pen had left in the paper.

Thank you for this past year. I’m sorry that I haven’t always been the best friend I could be to you; I can only promise not to make the same mistake again, and hope that you will stop me if I ever am too much of a fool for my own good again.

It’s hard to put into words how deep my affection for you runs, but unfortunately I can’t simply show it to you anymore, so words are all that I have. I could ramble on about the color of your eyes, the perfection of your face or the charm of your smile, but I’m sure you’ve heard me do that often enough to be tired of it by now. Nonetheless, let me reiterate how lucky I am that someone as beautiful as you would love me.

But more than your appearance, it is your very being that I love—your optimism, your kindness, your relentless motivation to do good. I feel that I am the best person I can be when I am next to you, if only because your goodness reflects onto me. I hope you will allow me to continue standing by your side for many years to come.

I wrote this in pen so I wouldn’t be able to go back and change anything, because I was afraid of being too much of a coward and erasing everything, but I think I kinda got way too sentimental there. Sorry! I know we’ve only been dating for a month and this is all a bit much. I have to admit, while I hope it doesn’t scare you, I truly mean all of it. It feels like it’s been so much longer to me. I can’t imagine anyone ever being as close to me as you are.

Speaking of things that are maybe a little premature, you should go see Daidara. He’s got a gift for you, from me. Before you freak out about it—no, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just something I wore a lot this past year that I wanted you to have to remember me by. The day when I get you one that means something, I’ll make sure it’s much more special than that one, I promise.

I’m going to miss you so much, Yosuke. There’s no place I’d rather be than in your arms. I’m really sad I have to leave, but I’m not afraid. We took a long and twisted path and still managed to make it to each other; whatever life tries to throw at us, I know we’ll overcome those obstacles, too. After all, you’re my one and only partner.

Love

Your Yu

-------------

In a train not so far away, although getting steadily farther by the minute, Yu pulled on a familiar pair of orange headphones. Yosuke had shoved them around his neck moments before the train doors closed, probably well aware that he would have tried to give them back otherwise. They were such an integral part of Yosuke that it seemed wrong for the two to be separated. Now, as he felt their familiar weight on his head—Yosuke often slipped them over his ears to share his latest favorite song with him—he was glad he hadn’t had a chance to return them. In a way, it was almost like a piece of Yosuke was coming with him.

As the train picked up speed, he unlocked the small music player that dangled from the cable. On the main screen, a single playlist appeared, titled, in true Yosuke fashion, “listn2me.” Yu smiled and hit play.

The opening chords of the song were unfamiliar, which didn’t surprise Yu. He didn’t listen to music much, and rarely knew any of the songs Yosuke shared with him. It was more unexpected when the voice that started singing turned out to be very familiar. Yu gasped out loud, causing the person sitting next to him to glance in his direction with a concerned expression.

He gave them a small shake of his head and they turned back to their book while he started the song over from the beginning. Now that he was listening for it, the sound quality was clearly not that of a produced album, as beautiful as it sounded. Yu closed his eyes and reached up to place a hand over one of the earpieces, losing himself in Yosuke’s singing voice.

He didn’t quite follow the lyrics; there would be time for that later, for deciphering every word, for picking out the meaning of every line. For now, he let himself just experience the music and the emotions they carried, an eclectic mix of melancholy, joy, excitement and determination that perfectly reflected Yosuke himself. They weren’t love songs, at least not in any obvious way, but that was right, too. Yu spoke Yosuke’s language well enough by now to easily translate this—the headphones, the playlist, the painstakingly recorded songs—into the love letter that they were meant to be, and he wouldn’t have changed any part of it for the world.

[comments/kudos welcome on ao3! <3]

#persona 4 #souyo #souji seta #yu narukami #yosuke hanamura #fanfic #fic #my wordy words #I am free!

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dommebelleg · 4 years

Text

meeting mama lynn

Belle meets Mrs. Lynn.

(mentions @allthoselynns, @colt-lynn)

Belle had arrived with a cupcake carrier in hand, her heart pounding. Seeing Colt had eased her nerves, but as she edged into the kitchen, they kicked back up again, seeing the woman who meant so much to the man she wanted so badly. “Mrs. Lynn? Is there... somewhere I should put this down?” she asked, uncharacteristically shy.

Gloria was happily humming along in the kitchen with the help of her youngest, Colt. It had been a while since she'd been able to cook with the boy like this. Gloria offered her patented smile as Belle entered and made her way to the kitchen. "Oh goodness," she said, looking around, "Why don't we put this over here for now, away from the stove? These look amazing and I would hate to have them melt everywhere," she suggested, taking the carrier from the girl. "So, you must be the Belle I have heard so much about."

She let Gloria take the carrier, hoping she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. “Thank you, I wouldn’t want them to melt before everyone could try them.” Belle felt her cheeks flush a bit, tugging the bottom of her shirt lightly. “Knowing Colt, I’m sure he’s hyped me up,” she said with a fond little smile. “But yes, that’s me. Belle Gilbert. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Lynn. I’ve heard quite a bit about you as well.”

Gloria gave a soft chuckle, "Well, Colt doesn't hide his excitement or admiration very well. He has certainly told me wonderful things." Another smile and Gloria grew closer, "Come, love, give us a hug," she said opening her arms for Belle to accept, "And please, Mama Lynn is just fine. Or Gloria, if ya must."

She let out a nervous breath and stepped in to give the other woman her requested hug. “Gloria it is then. And no, no he doesn’t, but it’s one of sweetest things about him,” Belle said happily.

Gloria squeezed the other gently - no one could hug like a Southern Mama. "It is," she agreed, returning to her stiring just in time to catch Colt trying to sample something. Her wooden spoon tapped his hand to get it away, "Colt Lawrence you stop that," she scolded slightly before returning to her pot. "Now, tell me a bit about yourself, Belle," she requested cheerfully.

Instinctively she rested her hand on Colt’s back after he was scolded, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Oh well, I’m from New Jersey. I have my own side business right now as a baker and I’m hoping to turn it into a storefront once I’m graduated from Lima Heights.”

"A Baker?" she exclaimed a little, "Well that's wonderful. Will you be returning to New Jersey after you graduate?"

“I’m hoping to. I have quite a following back home and I think it would make the most sense to open my first bakery there. Though I wouldn’t be opposed to expanding and franchising if the business allowed,” Belle explained. “That’s pretty far down the road however. I have to get the first one off the ground first.”

"That would certainly make sense. And are cupcakes your specialty?" she asked, motioning over to the cupcake carrier the Domme had brought with her. "There is nothing wrong with long term plans and goals, sweetheart. You just have to be willing to change with them. Deep goals like that, while completely acheiveable, sometimes have a way of changing in ways we didn't expect," she pointed out. "Doesn't mean it won't work, just might look a little different."

“Yes ma’am. They’re usually botanical or herb based, those are my specialty,” she admitted. Belle nodded. “I’m not set in stone on the outcome but having my own bakery has been a dream for a while of mine so I’m hoping to make at least the first one happen. My father has offered to invest once I graduate with my claims.”

"Botanical? That is flowers and such right?" Gloria asked, "I've heard of that, but never experienced it. I'm not much of a baker myself, other than the occasional Apple Crisp or cobbler." Gloria continued with her cooking, adding spices without measurement as she always did. "If you want something bad enough and are willing to work for it, I have no doubts you'll get exactly what you're after," Gloria smiled brightly towards the girl. "Claims? Plural?" she asked, ears perking up to the idea.

“Yes. I like to experiment with floral and herbal flavors. Something unexpected.” Belle smiled, leaning against the counter as she spoke with Gloria. “Yes. I’d like to have multiple claims, ideally. Especially when getting a new business started, it might take long hours and I wouldn’t want a single claim to get lonely. I also grew up in a house with my fathers two claims and the dynamic was something I enjoyed.”

"And how does that work? do flowers have a deep kinda flavor?" she asked. "THat's a nice way to look at it," she agreed, "I think i would find myself very bored if I didn't have Lawrence around," she said, looking up as the other submissive was making a funny impression to make Colt laugh. "Regardless of how ridiculous he can sometimes be," she chuckled and shook her head. "But he's a good man. And a very good friend I care for deeply," she answered, figuring it might be nice to hear it from a person in a double claim. "Oh? It is a fun dynamic, huh? I've always loved it. Couldn't imagine things any other way."

“Not deep but they are flavorful. It’s difficult to balance though because it can get medicinal or soapy so finding the right balance of flavor can be tricky.” Belle followed her gaze over to the pair, a fond, soft smile touching her lips as she watched Colt laugh, her heart skipping a beat in her chest. “I want that for my claims. My father claimed his friend from school, and eventually the woman she fell in love with. They’re all friendly and wonderful, which is what I want from my claim at the very least if everything isn’t romantic.”

"Oh yeah, that's what I meant. Silly me," she chuckled, mostly to herself, and enjoying what Belle was teaching her a bit. "Really? So the claims are romantically together? And your father is comfortable with something like that, or is he part of the romance too?" she asked, suddenly very interested and apparently as nosy as her Dominant could be.

Belle shook her head. “Dad isn’t really into romance. He and my mom claimed out of school, and then Mom fell in love with another woman who didn’t have a claim. So dad claimed her too so they could be together.”

"Your father sounds like a lovely man," Gloria smiled sincerely as she started to put things in serving dishes. "It sounds like you have a lot of good plans for yourself, darlin'," she smiled, looked over her shoulder to see that Colt had made himself busy with something before smiling back at Belle. "So, what is special about Colt? I have a hard time believin' ya would come here with delicious smellin' cupcakes if he wasn't potentially important."

“He is,” she agreed with a smile. Her cheeks colored lightly again, and she looked at Colt before turning back to Gloria. “He just... he fits. He’s exactly what I envisioned whenever I thought of a future claim,” Belle admitted quietly.

Gloria smiled, "Oh? And what does your envision look like?"

"Someone kind. Funny. Someone who is devoted and loyal and adoring, and happy to have those things in return. Someone who... frankly, can understand my slightly overprotective nature and not find it overwhelming," Belle said with a little shake of her head.

Gloria smiled again, "Sounds like you have a lovely life planned out for yourself," she leaned in to speak quietly, "And if ya plan on Colt bein' apart of that, I think you'd be very pleased with your choice." She straightened back up to bring

She chuckled and shrugged. “I can’t blame you for that, Gloria. I would be very biased if Colt was mine as well.” Belle looked over at him and smiled again. “I’m hoping he’ll make the choice to be a part of it.”

"He's a smart boy," she smirked, "I think he just might."

#meeting mrs. lynn #allthoselynns #coltlynn

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