#and then lets say the knife party guys or hell feed the noise as a duo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jay-and-dean · 4 years

Text

More like him

Dean x reader

So I had this request :

I loved it, but it was a real challenge because I thing it wouldn’t be really “Dean like” to go on a diet. It took me months to manage to be satisfied by it. I really hope you like it. Oh, and I added a little Smut, couldn’t help it.

For me this fic is kinda part of the Become that Girl “saga”.

Warning : Swearing. Sassy Sam. Suffering and mentions of unhealthy behaviors and drinking. Jealous Dean. Insecurities. Smut. Unprotected sex (you’re smarter than this). Angst. Fluffy Fluff.

This is both in Reader’s Pov and Dean’s Pov

Words : 10.3 k (yes. You asked for it.)

Jay’s MASTERLIST

Dean’s Pov

A grunt and a yawn. I turn around, a little pain in my neck from sleeping on the same position for hours.

I drank too much last night, again. My arm blindly searches for a bottle of water in the deep dark of my windowless room to fight the intense dry feeling in my mouth, but I find nothing.

“Shit.”

One more night in a shady bar, one more hangover, and one more woman I won’t remember.

Woman…

I frown with my eyes still closed and think of her, my stomach gets sick. She was among the prettiest girl I have been with, and she was a little too young for me, I’m sure she wasn’t twenty-five yet. I remember her friends, young and fit boys and girls, celebrating a birthday.

It’s really something how you see things differently when you’re drunk and when you are not. Maybe that’s why I drink so much : the sober truth gives me the creeps. Yesterday, I was feeling lucky, honored that a beautiful woman had laid her eyes on me, amazed by how confident she was. It felt like I had won the lottery of life, sex life at least. I was on top of the world, I could barely walk straight, but I didn’t care.

This morning is different. I lay here, nausea making me sweat, disgusted by my own smell and the taste in my mouth, wondering how I came home. I drove Baby drunk like Hell, I could have hurt someone, or damaged her.

“Shit” I grunt again.

How pathetic it is to go look for a college girl to feel alive ? How pathetic it is to spend the whole time we spent together too focused on trying not to be too old or too drunk to actually enjoy any of it ? How pathetic it is to think of another woman, the very second my eyes open ?

I need coffee.

I get up and make my way to the bathroom to pee and take a shower, I can’t stand the smell on me : alcohol sweat, the detergent of the cheap motel room I took not to bring her to our secret home, and, well, shame.

After brushing my teeth, I drink all I can from the sink and wonder if she is here. I really hope she is.

Y/n.

The woman I call my friend. The person that have actually been my closest friend with Benny and Cas, maybe even closer. If she’s in the kitchen, she will make fun of me, she will make loud pan noises just to make my headache worse because she says hangover is not enough punishment for hurting my body like that. But in the end, she will probably order pizzas and spend the day with me in the Dean cave not really watching movies while talking about any kind of stuff from hunts to music, from social matters to memories, food -she talks about food a lot, with sparkles in her eyes-, movies, sharks during shark week, horror movie clichés, her childhood, mine, and really intimate things like Hell, Purgatory, like my mom, her dad, our dreams...

I didn’t know I had so much dreams.

I put on underwear and the grey robe, then shuffle my way to the kitchen in the slippers that makes her call me grandpa.

Sam is there. All energetic, dressed with those black sweatpants and this ridiculously tight shirt, he's pressing oranges or whatever, and it's noisy as hell.

"Can't you be quite in the morning ?" I groan with a pained frown, sitting with my coffee in front of me.

"Morning ? It's noon, Dean. So, how was last night ? I guess it must have been great considering how late you came back."

"You heard me come back ?" I ask, wondering how late it actually was.

"No, but Y/n waited for you, and around five a.m. she thought you weren't coming home at all, so she went to bed. That's why we haven't been running yet, she barely slept."

I look at him but he's now turning his back on me to fill a bottle with water.

She has to stop doing that, waiting for me. I told her a few times already but it's like she was a worried mom or something. Y/n is always like that, she worries too much, every cut on Sam or me is a mortal wound, every yawn is a sign of exhaustion. And even if I secretly love this way more than I'll ever admit, I can't let her wait for me all night.

"Hey Dean" her voice catches my attention and I turn to meet her tired eyes.

How can she smile like that after the night she had ? How can she give me that kind smile? I really don't deserve it. I'm disgusting, damaged, violent even... Look at her.

She walks in and I can't help but drift along her naked legs, strong and soft. She's wearing her working out shorts, the ones torturing me some days, those tiny grey shorts holding her waist, that makes it impossible to not linger on her thighs. The t-shirt she wears is one of mine, or was, since she never gave it back. It's a plain back worn out t-shirt that has really nothing special. She says it's the comfiest.

"Hangover ?" she asks, handing me a slice of her apple.

"Yeah" I grunt, taking it.

I don't like rabbit food and she knows it. So instead of telling me to eat some, like Sam constantly tried for a while, she just gives me little bites of hers. A piece of apple there, a bite of banana, a little of spinach on her fork... and I always let her feed me, maybe just because she does with that adorable kind of smile each time.

"You came back late" she states, turning her back on me.

There is not an ounce of reproach in her voice, but something slightly sad. Maybe she pities me. If she had seen my evening, she would for sure.

A flash of that girl from yesterday saying my tattoo is weird and old fashion comes to my mind and I rub my face.

"Is there a hunt ?" I ask.

I really need a hunt, I really need some action and to get out of here.

"No" my brother lightly shakes his head.

"I thought I had found one" Y/n adds. "But it turns out it really was a bear this time !"

Her chuckle warms my heart.

"Movies in my room ?" I offer, trying to sound like it doesn't really matter, but the truth is, this perspective is what got me out of bed...

Reader's Pov

I cut another slice of apple with my hunter knife and give it to him.

"Hum, maybe later" I answer, looking away. "Sam and I planned on running to the lake..."

"The lake !" he almost chokes. "It's like twelve miles away !"

Sam chuckles and puts a hand on my shoulder, to inform me he's ready to go. He has been waiting for me a long time already, but I needed to check on Dean before I left for the day.

"Yeah..." I mumble. "And I want to practice my gun skills after, of fight skills if Sammy is not too tired from the running."

"I could help you practice too" he states and I give him a knowing smile.

Dean is not interested in training me, he never was. And, unlike me, he barely needs practice himself anyway, so why should he care ? He's just the best, that's natural. He's Dean Winchester, the best hunter in the world, the best man, the best everything actually. Between the ladies waiting in line to get a piece of him and his friends, the parties, but above all, constantly saving the world... He doesn't have time for me. We're not made of the same wood, I'm from those who have to work hard to keep up. And I never want to be a burden for any of them.

"What ? I could !" he grunts and his brother laughs.

"Yeah right, Dean" Sam mocks him, giving me my bag. "You would probably get a stitch from just stretching with Y/n ! She's getting good !"

"Don't listen to you brother" I assure Dean with a little smile on the corner of my lips.

I walk out of the bunker with Sam's back in front of me and bite my cheek, trying to ignore that sharp pain in my chest.

That pain that fell on me again while I was waiting for him, trying to not imagine what he was doing, that dread burning my guts ; and the other, even worse, pain that kept me awake once I was finally sure of what he was doing.

Once outside, the tall hunter stretches a little, humming at the soft spring breeze.

"Why did you wait again" he finally speaks, earning only a sigh from me. "Y/n... I know you need to make sure he's safe but you're hurting yourself. Talk to him..."

"We already talked about this" I just shrug before I start running.

Dean's Pov

I stay in the kitchen, my heart pounding in my head, my liver struggling.

Of course she won't spend the day with me. Why would she ? She waited all night and I was busy partying like those pathetic guys who didn't understand college is over.

You didn't even went to college...

Sipping at my coffee, I think of my brother’s hand on her shoulder and shiver, not really understanding why. I mean, he’s her friend too, a good friend actually, but something changed lately. They are close, more and more every day.

She used to spend all her time with me and now that I think of it… She does with him now. It started with morning runs, then there were going to the grocery store together. They cooked, Sam never cooked in his life, she taught him a few “healthy” recipes while I was making fun of them. Several times I found them talking until late in the library, or sending each other texts during hunts, when they were apart the whole day.

Maybe I’m missing something coming slow… Maybe the woman I think of the second I open my eyes in the morning thinks of Sam.

Why wouldn’t she ? My brother is better than me in every ways.

Sam is smart and educated, went to college and all. They can probably talk about things I have no idea of…

Sam is brave and fair. He’s the best man I know, and if I think of one man that would deserve a girl like her...

What are you saying ? There is no other girl like her.

But above all… Look at him. He just grew old way better than I did. All those healthy craps I always made fun of, in the end he’s right. While I was drinking beer for breakfast and eating fat crap, he was running, practicing. And yes, during hunts we're equals, because I was raised in this life, but if I had to catch him running, I would have a heart attack before he breaks a sweat.

I never cared about all of this. About having abs, comparing my body to my brother's, or about being healthy for that matters. Because let's be honest, I never really cared about myself. And girls like me…Right ?

Stupid.

What girls though. It was a long time since Cassie, since Lisa... And lately the one-night stands have had a bitter taste.

Sex with stranger was fun at first, for years it was. New body, new voice, new taste, and skin and preferences... I guess a guy feels pride by having sex with a lot of different women. But most of the time it's far from great and I’m tired of starting over every time.

I just wonder how it feels to actually get to know someone intimately, to learn what makes them squirm, their secrets, to wake up next to a friend... Love must be so nice.

The only person I can think of is her, Y/n. The woman that is my friend and the only one I want tell my secrets, the things that make me squirm...

My Y/n.

I grunt, my heart beating too fast because of hangover, my skin still smells alcohol despite the shower.

I'm such a wreck and she's so pure. That woman overcame bad things, and I have seen her so depressed that she barely could move at all for days in the beginning of our friendship. And yet, here she is, smiling, running and dancing in the library at night, making me want to be better every day, to think more, be less self-destructive, to feel pride more than shame. Pride for helping people, pride for my little brother that I helped grow up, and pride for being her friend.

She’s always there, smiling when I need a smile, listening even when I can’t talk, rolled up asleep on a little corner of my bed when I had a night of nightmares. Her hand was in my back when mom betrayed us and chose to leave, like it was the only thing keeping me up…

I can’t imagine her gone, impossible. And I’m realizing, I can’t imagine her in the arms of another man. That’s selfish, but I have to admit it now. I love her. And I want her, I need her.

Yet all I do is pushing her in my brother’s arms. In my brother’s strong and fit arms…

Reader’s Pov

I’m running, my feet hurt and I have a stitch on my left side, my thighs are already sore and my skin and lungs are burning. But I ignore them. I run.

I run to ignore my imagination and the images it brings. Dean laying on his back, giving his precious body to a blond girl that doesn’t even know who he is, how lucky she is. Dean grunting when she swallows around him. Dean grabbing her hair, biting her neck, coming inside her. Dean with two girls, why not…

I run.

“Y/n !” Sam’s voice interrupts me. “Wow, easy tiger.”

Out of breath, he puts his hands on his knees and frowns at me.

“You know the point of all of this is not to faint ? It’s about endurance, not a sprint or a race.”

“I’m sorry, Sam” I sigh, my body screaming at me even more now that I stopped.

“Is this about Dean ?” he asks, making me roll my eyes.

“How running too fast could be about your brother ?” I grunt.

“You know perfectly why I say that” he shrugs, drinking from his water bottle. “Avoiding him won’t prevent the hurt.”

“It avoids the nausea from smelling cheap perfume on him at least…” saying that, I sit on a bench that is close in a huff. “I just…” I sigh, burying my face in my hands. “How do I avoid the hurt then ?”

“Talk to him” my friend says, joining me on the bench to sit next to me, his tall shadow wrapping me like angel wings, hiding me from this world I hate right now.

“Don’t be ridiculous” I scoff. “Hey Dean, could you not have sex with anyone ? It hurts me. Thank you.”

Sam lets out a chuckle and bumps my shoulder with his giant arm.

A woman in an elegant sports outfit runs pass us, her tall form bouncing on her thin legs with grace, making her shiny hair fly. Dean would like her, he would totally sleep with her… Oh wait, we’re in Lebanon, there aren’t many girls that pretty around here, maybe he already did…

“How about ‘I have feelings for you’ ?”Sam suggests with puppy eyes and a childish adorable shrug.

I sigh, rubbing my face. Why doesn’t Sam understand ?

“Yeah so it can make our friendship awkward forever, with pity and shit” I look down at my hands. “Or so he chooses to erase my memory like he did with Lisa ?”

A silence falls between us.

Sam knows what I think of this, how angry it makes me. Of course I don’t want to see him with Lisa, in fact my heart arches each time I think of what they had together, but take those memories from her… It wasn’t his choice to make. I happened to put myself in her shoes and hated it. I would rather long for a single smile from him all my life than being amputated of the only part of me I cherish : My love for him.

The second reason I hate it is because of what it says about him : Dean is really convinced that he is not good enough. For anything, for anyone.

During one of our nights in the Dean cave together, not really watching movies and drinking whiskey, he talked about it. And I know how much Lisa and him were meant to break up eventually. She wasn’t a hunter, and she didn’t really want to know about this life, even if she respected it. He was holding on to her like she was his only chance at happiness because, in his mind, happiness can’t come with the hunter life.

Erasing her memory was not only a way to “protect her”, it was a closure for him. Away of closing the normal life door forever and throw away the key.

“You know he doesn’t think he deserves…” Sam starts but I cut him.

“Don’t.”

I am a hunter. And despite the fact that I am desperately in love with my friend and going crazy with jealousy, I am pretty happy.

I am happy with my life, my heroic, never boring, full of magic life. I mean, they lost a lot, but do they think people with an apple pie life don’t ? Before I became a hunter, I went to so many funerals that the funeral home employees knew me personally before I hit puberty. And when you lose your family to cancer and heart attack, or suicide… You don’t even get to know for sure they’re in Heaven.

But I am a hunter now, and I know. I am relieved and I feel safer, because magic exists, Heaven exists, and angels, even if they are quite different from what I had imagined.

“I just want Dean to be happy” I sigh and Sam’s giant hand rubs my back.

That’s the truth. I wish with all my heart that Dean would realize he can be happy now. That the horror he has been through is over, and that the hunter life he can’t quit doesn’t mean he has to be miserable.

And that is the reason I have to be the best friend I can. That’s the reason I have to swallow that jealousy that is making me bitter, to just love him, as selflessly as I can.

“Can we go home ?” I ask and Sam nods.

Dean’s Pov

I close the bathroom closet and swallow the pill, bending to drink water from the sink, then stand in front of the mirror.

I never really thought of it, but I’m a little pudgy. My hips are not straight and firm, is my butt a little large ? I frown, making my wrinkles appear and sigh. And those freckles… I never really paid attention to them until that college girl said something about it. Something with a kind smile but her mean girl voice betraying her : “I guess it’s cute, but it always kinda look like the skin is dirty, you don’t have too many on the face so it’s okay”. Why do I have so many freckles ? Dad didn’t, mom either I think, not on her face anyway, and Sam… Sam’s skin is darker than mine, and perfectly smooth. Y/n must like that too.

Stop whining like a teen.

I walk to my room and sit there, trying to ignore the voices in my head saying Y/n likes my brother. Does he like her too ?

I take my headphones and turn the music on loud, closing my eyes, too bad for the headache, the silence is worse anyway.

I’m in Hell, tied up like Alastair used to chain me, but I’m not hurt. Sam enters and points his finger at me.

“You will never be as good as me” he says. “Dad was better, I am better, and the woman you love ?” His laugh is terrifying, evil.

He puts his finger on my stomach and pushes it harder and harder on me, until it hurts.

Until it hurts a lot.

“You’re soft” he says, covering my whines of pain, that come out with my child voice now. “Dad was right, you’re too soft. Your heart is soft, your body too. You couldn’t say no to Alastair, like you can’t say no to a burger” his finger is so strong, like metal, and it feels like it is going to go through my skin and muscles any moment. “You have no self-control. You’re pathetic, Dean… Dean ? Dean.”

I gasp, half sitting when I open my eyes.

“Sorry” Y/n says, and I look up to find her next to my bed, her hands up in a peace gesture.

“You’re back ?” I ask, still slightly panting.

The sight of her worried face makes my heart slow, and I notice she’s wearing that comfy pajama of hers, the very loose t-shirt draping lazily from her body, embracing her sweet curves.

“I got tired of running” she smiles kindly, finally plunging her hands in her sweatpants pockets.

I grunt and look at my watch, I have been sleeping a few hours, and I think the hangover is gone.

“I came to ask you if you were hungry and… You didn’t seem well” she nibbles at her lips. “Sorry if I scared you.”

I rub my eyes and give her a weak smile.

“You didn’t” I state. “I’m super hungry, yeah.”

I am. When I drink like that, I often skip diner.

I get up and grunt, rubbing my eyes. I thank her, walk to the kitchen with her and sit at the table in a sigh.

“So” she says with that radiant smile on her face. “I was thinking of making burgers. I know I don’t cook them as good as you, but !”

She turns around and shows me her phone screen, moving it too much in her enthusiasm for me to see anything. I chuckle and grab her wrist to still it, enjoying the softness of her skin under my fingers. On the phone, a recipe. “The best burger possible”, with descriptions of how to make the onions crispy, and to make the best sauce…

“Maybe I will finally make burgers as good as yours or close” she states, taking her hand back to read the recipe.

“You know you’re cute ?” I state, but I can’t give her the tender expression I intend to, as my dream comes back to me.

Maybe I should learn to say no to a burger.

“Not as much as your sleepy head” she chants.

“You know…” I clear my throat. “Maybe for once, we should eat what you like and not my greasy crap, like Sam says.”

She stops and turns to me with a pan in her hand and a surprised look.

“But” she pouts. “Me like burger.”

I look down, trying to think of something to say, she actually looks a little disappointed. She was so proud of what she had found… That woman is like a ray of sun.

When I’m about to tell her that I would love to taste her burger, regretting having made her beautiful smile fade, she puts her phone on the table before me and starts looking in the fridge.

“I get it Dean.”

“Really ?”

“Too much alcohol, your grandpa stomach is fragile” she chuckles and I wonder how she seem to never show real hurt, annoyance or disappointment at anything I say. "Okay, you asked for it, I prepare the same for you as I do for Sam and me."

“Yeah…” I mumble.

My eyes fall on her phone and my heart flutters. She forgot to lock it, and it’s the first time I see her wallpaper picture. It’s us. Just me and her. I remember that day.

It was last summer, we were hunting a Wendigo that attacked campers, and had to camp ourselves in the wood for a night to find it. It was a beautiful night. When the photo was taken, I was telling a story, standing with a large smile on my face and a beer in my hand. Y/n came close, I don't remember why, and she wrapped her arms around me, holding my waist with her head on my shoulder.

The picture really looks like we were a couple. She's staring up at me while I tell the story, her face inches away from mine. Behind us, that beautiful lake and a part of her blue tent. I don't remember who took this photo, and I think this moment must have been very short, or I would remember it. Maybe she just came that close to tell me something in the ear, maybe it was one of those quick hugs she gives me when I say something sad or mention being hurt.

Why would she have that on her screen ? Before I can think of it further, her phone locks by itself and becomes black.

I look up, her back is still on me, she's cutting something. With a discreet finger, I touch her phone, trying to make the photo appear again but her lock screen makes me sigh.

Sam, of course Sam. It's a selfie they took together, simple and cute, both looking at the phone my brother is holding.

"I'm afraid you'll still be hungry after th-" she turns around and her eyes fall on my finger on her phone. "But if you are, there is pie" she states, taking her phone to put it in the back pocket of her jeans.

Like she needed to hide something, like she was embarrassed that I saw that Sam is on her screen.

She arranges her salad or whatever she's making, puts a plate in front of me, and two others for Sam and her.

"Sam !" she calls and I look down at the plate.

I must say my it is pretty, all colorful. I recognize avocado, tomatoes... But as pretty as it is, it doesn't make me hungry, rabbit food never does.

"Oh wow, Dean is grounded or something ?" my brother chuckles, entering the kitchen.

"Leave him alone" she answers before I can make a comment. "His stomach is still upset."

Sam gives me suspicious look, I never ate this kind of veggie plate in my life, if my stomach is really upset, I wait an hour, and the second it's better, I fill it with beef jerky.

I can see my brother is waiting for me to make a comment, complain. But when I don't, he just shrugs and starts eating, talking to her about something I don't listen to. I take a piece of avocado with my fork and when I look up to her, she's staring at me, her beautiful eyes searching my face.

"You can change your mind Deanie. I can still make bacon" she smiles.

"N-no really I'm okay" I state, eating a green thing without enthusiasm.

"Oh wow" Sam sneers. "Dean says no to bacon !"

I swallow the lump in my throat and feel my cheek redden despite my effort to be as stern as possible. I don't need his smart words, and I don't need to see them being so perfect with each other. Getting up, I put the fork down.

"You know Sam, I actually can say no from time to time."

Leaving the room, I rub my face.

Reader's Pov

I stay still, my eyes on the kitchen exit where Dean just disappeared. Something is wrong, really wrong.

I have seen Dean sad, grumpy and pushing people away, but this is new.

"I should go check on him after diner" Sam says. "He obviously have something on his mind."

"Yeah..."

My phone buzzes, it's him.

Hey Sweetheart, I'm sorry for leaving without eating what you prepared. Please tell Sam to not check on me. I'm going to bed, I'm just tired.

Dean is never "just tired".

Okay Deanie. Don't worry for the food. Please if you need something, remember I'm right here.

Dean didn't come out of his room at all.

I waited a little in the kitchen, finishing that stupid show I had started the day before, when he was out with yet another woman. I was hoping maybe he would show up to eat something, and then I could talk to him, but he didn't.

"Y/n" Sam's voice makes me jump slightly, frowning at the too bright light. "Did you fell asleep out of bed again ?"

I look around, my laptop battery died, I don't know how long ago and I have no idea of what time it is.

My friend lets out a deep sigh, offers me his hand and closes my laptop. I get up and follow him, a new ache in my back.

"What was it this time ?" he asks opening the door to my room. "And don't say it has nothing to do with him."

I frown, close the door and sigh letting myself fall sitting on my bed.

"He didn't eat" I mutter and Sam rolls his eyes. "What ? You admitted yourself that something is off."

"Can I sit ?" he asks, taking place beside me on the bed when I nod. "Your crush for my brother, it was cute at first..."

I can see him hesitate, and I know I won't like what he has to say.

"But ?"

"But this is getting unhealthy" he looks down. "You know I love my brother, b-but I think he's not a good thing for you in the end."

My eyes get wet but I keep listening silently.

"Dean is... We all are damaged. You can't stand seeing him angry or hurt but, you know, he is most of the time. Y/n you can't keep spending your nights on wooden chairs just in case he need a freaking sandwich. You're a hunter, a warrior !"

I want to protest, it's not that simple. But nothing come out of my mouth. When tears roll on my face, he opens his arms, welcoming me against him.

I can't love Dean less, he knows that. But for the first time, he's telling me that he disagrees ; and that changes everything. Sam was always the one kindly making fun of me or taking pictures discreetly for me to stare at on my phone at night. What if he decides he has to talk to Dean ? What if he gets tired of me, his best friend ? And what if he's right ?

"You have to talk to him" he states, making my fears cut my air supply for a moment.

"I-I can't" I sob, half panicking.

"You know he really loves you..."

I let go of his arms, not really wanting to hear more but he keeps holding me.

"What are you so afraid of ?" he sighs.

Dean's Pov

I'm hungry. My stomach is gurgling and I feel a little dizzy, I need to eat, it's not like I was going to be more like Sam by starving or skipping meals anyway. I will never be like him. More like Sam is not only a muscle thing, he's also taller, smarter, better...

Coming out of my room, I rub my face, thinking of her pretty face a little shocked when I left. I should apologize.

After a very quick shower, I put on my grey robe and slippers again, walking to her room slowly.

I rarely felt that weak, after my heart failure years ago, or after a big blood loss... But hunger like that, I didn't feel it since that week dad left and I lost the food money. I was ten or eleven... I remember feeding Sammy with stolen food, and eating only the leftovers, a piece of fruit, a crust of bread... Sam was starting to realize something was odd. I was so tired...

I am so tired.

I ate eggs at lunch the day I went out, then nothing on the evening. And yesterday... Nothing either. I haven't eaten for like forty hours, not even the crusts of Sam's sandwich or three gummy bears he forgot on the nightstand this time. And I'm starting to shake.

It's enough. I will apologize, make coffee and breakfast for both of us, and ask her to come to my room to continue our "What you haven't seen that ? It's a classic !" marathon movie.

Just when I'm about to knock at her door, it opens.

Sam.

My brother comes out of her room... in the morning ; his perfect pecks showing through his t-shirt and his arms covered of superman veins.

"Dean" he says, surprised.

Then he closes the door behind him, not letting me in, and I feel my blood go down on my feet, making me dizzy.

"Give her a minute" he states, and leaves.

I stay in front of the door, looking at it like I could see through it. A minute ? What, is she still naked ? Panting ? Dirty ?... I shake my head.

I can't.

I...

She's my Y/n, how can he touch her ? How can he ? I need her, I need her for me... I can't...

My breath is short and I try to fight the crushing wave of emotions almost making me fall on my knees. Sam is better, I'm a grunt, I'm damaged, dumb, unworthy... And I'm freaking fat !

The door opens and Y/n bumps on my chest jumps, very surprised to find me here.

"Dean ?" she give me a well faked smile but it fades the second her eyes meet mine. "Dean... Are you okay ?"

I nod but I know the devastating hurricane raging inside of me is showing. And I'm not sure to feel my heart anymore.

"Deanie, did something happen ?"

"N-no" I state.

"Let's get breakfast" she frowns suspiciously. "I told Sammy that I wouldn't run this morning."

Why ? Are you tired ? Sore ? Did he hurt you ?

"I'm not hungry" I state.

The truth is I can't swallow anything right now.

"Not angry ?" she bites her lip. "What is it Dean ? Are you going on a hunger strike ?"

"No" I say and realize my tone is defensive.

She sighs and looks down, licking her lips, probably to taste my brother here...

"I'm worried" she whispers. "You didn't eat at all yesterday, and I know for a fact that you didn't get up for food."

"How can you be sure ?"

Her eyes are suddenly wet, and now I know what that fake smile was hiding : tears. It's enough to make me forget in a second about my own pain, about the crushing feeling on my heart.

"Because I slept in the kitchen again" she says a little coldly before walking pass me.

Reader's Pov

I have to hide my face. I can't deal with Dean telling me my love unhealthy too, or with his questions. And I can't cry before him, I wouldn't know how to explain it.

I enter the kitchen and take eggs and bacon from the fridge. Hungry or not, he will eat a little, he needs it.

Not hungry... Is he sick ?

"Y/n..." he sighs behind me, but I don't answer, breaking the delicate eggshells against the pan edge. "Why did you sleep there ?"

"I don't know" I just say. "Why aren't you eating ?"

"I eat, Y/n."

"Not lately, no. S-so now I make you a real breakfast, like you like it, with meat and fat."

"Maybe I should stop eating that..." he mumbles for himself, but I hear him and turn around.

"What ?"

His whole body language changed. He doesn't stand with that confidence and dominance he usually has. He's hurt, hurt bad. He looks tired and pale, but not only...

"What is going on between Sam and you ?" he asks, low.

"Sam ?"

I slightly shake my head in confusion.

I don't understand his question, I don't understand the pain on his face. Something happened when he went out, did someone hurt him ?

Suddenly, a smell of burn come to my nose : the eggs ! I turn and try to save them but Dean's strong wrist grabs mine, making me turn to him.

"Answer please."

His voice is more somber than angry, but his gesture is firm and he's shaking. I can see the fire raging inside of him.

"What do you mean going on ? Dean... The food" I try to turn.

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT FOOD !" he suddenly yells, my heart racing and eyes wetting instantly. "I HAD ENOUGH FOOD FOR AN ENTIRE LIFE !"

His vise fingers suddenly lets go of my wrist and he takes a step back, fear on his features, like he was afraid of his own emotions. Dean is an impressive and dangerous man, but I will never be scared of him.

I wipe the tears that escaped my eyes and, on the surface calmly, turn off the fire under the burned eggs. Then I get closer to him and take his hand, way softer than he took mine a second before, under the slightly too long sleeves of his adorable robe. I decided I would be a better friend, it's my chance to be.

"If you precise your question, Deanie, I will answer. I just don't really get it" my eyes are on him, kind but firm, like I was taming a wolf.

"I..."

He doesn't manage to finish his sentence, the gearwheels of his mind visible behind his sparkling eyes. If I don't help him, he will run away, and burry it forever.

"What do you think is going on between Sam and me ?" I ask, noticing his lips are really white, even more than before. But I know he won't agree to eat right now, not until we fix what is bothering him. "Do you think, we're hiding something ?"

That would explain why he was staring at my phone yesterday. Sam and him have been deceived so often, lied to...

"Are you together ?" he cuts my thoughts. "Or is it just casual ?"

"What ? No !" I frown, letting go of his hand just a second. "Dean... Sam is my friend."

"He's perfect" he whispers.

You're perfect.

"He's amazing" I nod. "Sam is one of the best person I know..."

"He's handsome" he cuts me.

I search his face, and he nervously licks his lips. I take his hand again shyly, just the tip of his fingers. He will close again because he regrets those words. I have to answer quickly even if I'm really wondering what this is about.

"H-he is" I state. "Not really my type but he really is a beautiful man."

"You're always together... He... He slept in your bedroom" he says, taking back his hand. "You guys do what you want, but don't take me for a fool."

I take a deep breath, I won't get out of this without saying a little too much. I little of what I don't want to say. But Dean seems to need answers, and what Dean needs...

"He didn't sleep in my room, I told you I fell asleep in the kitchen. He found me, and bought me back there, tried to convince me to sleep but I was worried... and sad. Why those questions ?"

"Sad ?"

I don't want to answer now, so I continue.

"And... I spend a lot of time with him because he's my friend and..."

Being with you sometimes hurt.

He doesn't answer, and looks down at himself. Is he jealous that spend time with Sam ? We indeed used to be even closer, before my love for him started being out of control. Does he feel like that third friend the others forget a little for the fun things ?

"Dean, are you upset because I went running with Sam instead of watching movies with you yesterday ?" he looks away. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that you're not eating ?"

"I... I don't know" he sighs. "I'm a little dizzy."

"Sit Dean" I say, guiding him to the table. "Tell me what's going on with food. Please. You know I hate to see you bad."

He rubs his face with both hands, his scruff audible under his palm. How I wish I could kiss this jaw, how I wish I could show him how much I love him, how I know who he is, not like those girls.

"It's ridiculous..." he tries, but I sit facing him, and wait for him to talk. "I'm not... like Sam."

"Like Sam ?"

"You know... Abs and..." he motions his body. "All."

"Wait" I blink a few times. "Dean you're perfect."

He scoffs so bend a little to make him look at me.

How can he compare himself to his brother ? Where do that come from ? I know Dean struggles with serious self-hate, but would never have guessed it would reach that subject, of physical appearance... Maybe this is about a woman.

"Dean. You're the most beautiful man I have ever seen." My mouth starts freeing itself from truth I kept locked, and I can't stop it. "I'm serious. Your face looks like some masterpiece with perfect proportion, y-your eyes are ridiculously green, your jaw could cut glass, your lips..." my eyes fall on them and my words get lost. "You're tall and broad..."

"You're making me blush Sweetheart" he says, he voices back to its usual low hoarse tone. "Still I... You know I'm... a kid when it comes to food, I never exercise..."

"Never exercise ?" I smile. "Three days ago you climbed inside a house then dug a six feet deep hole on the ground, and the day after you chased a monster, fought him, and carried his body to a place where you can burn it... I say you deserve a burger."

His face seems to light up a little, but his pretty pillow lips are still too white.

"But it's not working out, like Sammy."

"Dean... Your brother likes it, he need it to focus, to think" my smile grows and I speak lower, I know my admiration is showing, and it honestly feels liberating. "And he needs that to keep up with you."

"He doesn't" he almost chuckles, finally warming my heart.

"Well, you're the best. It's natural for you, but we have to work, especially me."

"You two are better than me" he states.

"We're not. And... Dean not eating isn't going to make you feel better about yourself. It's going to wear you out, make you weak..."

"I know" he sighs.

"Can I make you a breakfast ? The color of your lips makes me want to draw a salt circle."

He chuckles fully this times, wrinkles appearing on the corner of his eyes.

I gently pat his shoulder as I get up, still not believing Dean could have insecurities like those. I throw away the burnt cold eggs and make some new, with bacon.

"I hear comments sometimes you know..." he says like it was easier now I'm not looking at him. "The things you said, that my face is nice..."

"More than nice" I admit, turning a little to him, but not fully to keep watching the pan.

"It happened that girls expect more under my shirt" he looks down. "I know it's ridiculous... I just, I don't know, maybe I feel disappointing."

"It's not ridiculous" I state under my breath, grabbing a plate to finally give him food. " Here, eat this, all of it."

"Like with the whole FBI look or with my seductive smile" he stops and grunts. "I feel like a teen."

"Hey, nothing like that between us, you know that. I told you about very embarrassing stuff" I reassure him. "And, what you're saying is interesting, men endure the social standards too."

"I... I don't know I didn't age like a model, I'm... soft."

Model.

"You know..." I start.

I pour two coffees and take a chocolate bar for myself, watching him before I keep talking, to make sure he starts eating.

"Delicious" he states, putting big pieces in his mouth.

"One of the reason I work out with Sammy is... Precisely because I don't want to look ridiculous next to two total models."

"Now that's" he starts, opening his mouth too big at how hot it still is. "That's kinda ridiculous. You're the prettiest girl ever !"

"I'm not" I whisper, softly blowing on my coffee.

"What ? You are Y/n" I lift my eyes on him, his lips are still a little light but shining with grease.

"I'm not like the girl you go out with."

I don't dare looking up, but see he stopped moving. His robe is now totally opened, the belt got loose, and my eyes are lost in the black of his shirt.

"The girls I go out with" he repeats. "You're way better than those girls."

"Oh listen to you, that doesn't sound cliché at all" I say a little too coldly, a shocked expression appears on his face. "I... I'm sorry."

"You know... the girls I go out with, that doesn't really mean anything."

"I know" I cut him to make him understand I'm not asking him to justify himself.

But he keeps talking anyway.

"I have been with divorced single moms, witnesses... college girls" he says the last one with something bitter and I take this occasion to make it about him again, and not me.

"Two day ago" I ask, although it's the last thing I want to talk about. "It was a college girl, Deanie ? Did something happen ?"

"Yeah... no" he states, answering my two questions. "I just... I just realize it wasn't really what I wanted, not anymore. And that it didn't... didn't really make me feel good about myself."

"Too young for you ?" I try to joke, giving him a piece of my chocolate bar, feeding him like I always do, with everything I have in my hand.

"Kinda yeah" he answers seriously. "I don't know... She... I wasn't frat boy enough for her I guess."

"Yes, that's exactly the idea, that you're not that !"

"I didn't really, you know... enjoy it" he says and I fight the images coming in waves in my head. "I was too focused on trying to prove something" a dark chuckle escapes his lips. "I don't even know who I was trying to convince. And she... She didn't like the tattoo, the scars, the freckles..."

"Whoa whoa ! Who's that bitch ?" I lift my hands in the air, sincerely shocked, I never knew some women would be able to not appreciate Dean.

He smiles kindly but looks at the bottom of his coffee.

Silence. I wish I could make him see who he is, I wish I could speak more, ask questions, but just talking about that stupid college girl that had him, but on top of that made him feel bad about himself...

"You look sad again" he cuts my thoughts.

"Sad ?"

"Yeah, it happens often. You start thinking deeply and you get sad" he says. "Listen... You're the most amazing friend, and woman, there is..."

"But" I whisper, echoing the conversation with Sam in my head.

"There's no 'but'" he shakes his head. "I was just going to say that I want to be a better friend, and man, for you."

"You already are the best" I smile but he doesn't smile back at all, his green eyes searching mine.

"I'm not. I let you down several times. I get why you would rely on Sammy more. I left you at this bar after that hunt when that witness was hitting on me. And I cancelled movie night twice to go out, just to feel... I don't know desired, loved maybe ? I know how absurd it is" When I'm about to talk, he doesn't let me. "And I worry you... coming home drunk as fuck in the morning." He rolls his eyes a little. "And with Baby..."

"I'm not your mom, I have to stop being so protective, Sam is right..."

"Sam ?"

That's it, the moment I say so much I regret it my whole life. But I promised my best friend I wouldn't go on like this, that I would either talk to Dean, like he wants me to, or at list try to work on my feelings to move on. It's time to stop hiding everything from the man I love and make our friendship pure again.

"Sam says..." I clear my throat. "That... I have to care a little less about you, to care a little more about me" I don't dare looking up and let out a dark chuckle. "Won't be easy... I care a lot about you."

When he doesn't answer, I finally look up, fearing what I will see on his face. He's just staring at me with an expression I never really saw on his face. His gorgeous lips are pink again, and the scruff on his cheeks, a little darker than usual, highlights the radiant light of his big beautiful eyes.

He half gets up, bending on the table. And before I can realize what's happening, he puts his lips on mine in a soft, warm kiss.

My whole body responds to it. The thin hair on my arms stick up, my heart starts beating my chest and my thighs get moist with a thin layer of sweat.

I stay frozen for a second, looking at him in disbelief, playing the quick kiss again and again in my head as he sits back.

"I just..." he clears his throat and sigh, getting up. "I'm not Sammy."

Before he can leave, before this moment becomes a memory I will struggle to think as real, before I find myself in that hole of secrets again, I get up. But he's already walking to his room.

"Dean !" I run after him, meeting him at his bedroom door. "Dean. You're not Sammy. You're you, you're perfect in every ways."

My heart is pounding. Let's do this, he needs this. Dean needs to be loved and I didn't know he needed reassurance. No one can to this better than me, because I worship him. I always said I wanted to show Dean he can be happy, and loved without changing his life for good. This is my shot at it, I may not be enough, I may not be what he wants or needs, but at least I can share with him. My devotion, my love, my body, all he wants.

And If my heart breaks, let it be a happy sacrifice.

"Your freckles are like stars in a summer sky" he frowns when my fingers come up to graze his cheek. "I already liked freckles but yours... You make any other skin look plain and boring."

His face is so close, the delicious smell of his skin reaching me. His pupils are large, just circled with that green that could make me cry.

"Your lips..." I say a little lower, looking at them intensely.

From here, I can see the few freckles that made their way on them. Then I see his tongue, slowly wetting them before he bends again, catching my lips softly, his nose bumping mine when he opens his mouth to capture my upper lip, once, twice...

I open my mouth and wrap my arms around him, deepening the kiss with a shameless hunger, and all my love in it. Something blows up inside of me, something strong : need.

Dean's Pov

No drunk groans, and no shame anywhere. I kiss her like it was words, and take her inside my room.

"Your smell" she says and I feel emotions rush in every one of my veins, but it's not disturbing like it usually is. "I could bath in it, live it."

I bend to burry my face in her neck, inhaling deeply.

And I take my time, I have no reason to hurry, nowhere to go, no woman to come back to. She slips her fingers between the strands of my hair, letting me hold her close, drowning in her smell.

I want to cry, and I don't really know why. Probably because of how right this feels. Because of that relief : She not with my brother. She is not with Sam...

"Dean..." she whispers, her nails gently grazing my scalp. "Can I see you ?"

I put a kiss on her neck and murmur a tender 'yes' against it.

Her hands leave my hair to go down along my neck, sending shivers down my spine, and push my robe, making it fall like a cape at my feet. That’s how she makes me feel, like her hero.

Her chin goes up without me leaving her neck, and she gently rubs her cheek on my jaw. In a soft moan, I open my mouth to leave wet kisses on her skin.

Maybe she can be mine...

"Sometimes your voice makes me shiver" she whispers in my ear. "Just your voice... It's so deep."

Somehow her words send electricity to my crotch and I can feel my boxers getting tighter.

My hands grab her ass, pressing her against me and when she moans, I feel my cock twitch.

"Y/n..."

"You're beautiful in everything" she continues, her hands slipping under my shirt to stroke my back, her voice slightly weaken by arousal. "But when you wear henleys or just a t-shirt..." she kisses just below my ear. "I can get wet by just looking at you."

My cock twitches and I groan.

"Are you wet now, Baby ?"

She nods and I let go of her ass to cup her face, kissing her like I always dreamed of, deeply and hungrily, not caring of being in control of myself, not caring if I seem desperate.

She starts to walk, making me take a few steps back until my calf hit the edge of the bed and I sit on it. I tug at her shirt to make her straddle me, but she takes a second to take off her shorts, revealing her beautiful thighs, and her white panties.

When she finally straddles me, spreading her legs, I spot a wet stain on her panties and a low growl leaves my chest.

"Fuck... You are..." I say, my hand coming down to cup her sex through it, feeling the tip of my finger get wet.

Her body immediately contracts, and, with my middle finger pressed against her entrance, I can even feel her walls clench around nothing.

"How can you be so reactive" I groan.

"It's you..." she moans, rolling her hips just a little to feel my hands more. "Dean... No men can do this to me."

My other hand comes up to take that worn out black shirt she stole with impatience, because I notices she wasn't wearing a bra underneath.

"Oh baby..." I let out, bending to kiss her breasts, my other hand teasing her more.

I'm burning up, my back sweating, my cock painfully hard. I don't remember being that turned on in my life by so little. She hasn't even touched me yet.

Her head falls back and her nipples point at me, begging me to suck at them, so that's what I do. Mouth open, I take one in my mouth, along with the most of her soft breast I can.

"Ah..." she moans and squirms above me. "Dean !"

My cock twitches at just hearing my name like that, my real name on top of that.

I slip my hand in her panties, desperate to hear more, feel more. She's soaked, her thighs contracted and her hips rolling against my hand. She doesn't form words, but her body is begging for more.

So I slip a finger inside her and feel her squeeze him, hear her gasps. I can't wait to be inside of her but that's not my only purpose... Oh God when she will clench around me ! I’m panting now.

"Please Dean" she whines, one of her hand going behind her to find balance on my knee, her beautiful body arching back.

I give her what she needs, another finger, pumping slowly at first, then going a little stronger, and my thumb on her clit, gently circling. I look at her with my mouth open in awe, a devouring pleasure making me high.

"Fuck" I pant.

I should try to focus, make that coil inside me calm, make my heart slow. I don't want to be aroused like a teen, or I won't last at all... But I can't, and my free hand comes on my crotch to touch myself through my boxers a little, desperate for some friction.

"Dean ! Dean..." she cried out, now joining the movement of my fingers with her whole body. "I need..."

"Come for me" I order. "Show me how much you want me Baby, clench those fingers."

And just like that, she does.

Her whole body shakes and her thighs crush me, her walls trying to milk my finger for what they can't give her.

"DEAN DEAN DEAN !"

My cock twitches so hard it's painful, I bend on her chest to not see her face longer, and try to hold back as hard as I can.

"Baby... fuck..." I whine, my whole stomach contracting and my cock pulsating.

But when she grabs my head to hold it against her and start rolling her hips hard to prolong her powerful orgasm, I can't hold back...

In a very loud frustrated grunt I come in my pants, feeling my cum drip along my twitching cock.

Reader's Pov

My bliss makes me high, but my senses are at their full power, so I can feel what’s happening. I can feel Dean squirm beneath me and shake, I can feel his hand unable to move and hear his gasps.

He’s coming.

My walls clench even more at the thought and he whimpers against my breasts. So I hold him, I just hold him.

When I finally can have the control of my body again, I look down at him and he withdraws his fingers slowly.

“Y/n…” he whispers. “Fuck I…”

“Did you came ?” I ask with the largest smile I ever had on my face.

“I… yeah… I’m…”

He seems embarrassed.

“Dean, that’s the sexiest thing I have ever experienced” I assure him, bending to kiss his lips. “No one ever wanted me that bad.”

“I still want you” he states, his hands stroking my back and going down on my ass. “I… I think you’re all I want actually.”

My eyes get wet. In my head : every single moment in my life that made me fall in love with Dean, every day, every moment I craved for a touch, for his smell, every time he laughed and cried… Everything.

“Then you have me Dean, you can have me forever if that’s what you want.”

“Yes, I do” he says, taking off his shirt.

With a large smile I push him back on the bed, letting him drag both of us higher on it. I look down at him, and a tear falls on his chest. His hand comes up to wipe my cheek, we don’t need to talk for a moment.

My hands go down his sides, enjoying his firm chest and the soft line of his stomach, my thumbs massaging it a little on their way up, feeling the strong muscles underneath and the silky-smooth skin.

I bend to kiss his collarbones, and his tattoo, palms still roaming everywhere like I always dreamed of, like I will always dream of.

“This tattoo” I say, drawing its contour with my finger. “It’s so you, it has a story, and it protects you. I love it.”

“And I love you” he states without a hesitation, his chin almost on his neck to see me.

A tiny emotional sob escapes my lips, making him frown a little and wrap his strong arms around me.

“Hey baby…” he whispers. “Y/n…”

My hand goes down to push his underwear down, and my panties to the side. He searches my eyes while I do, and licks his lips in a moan when I grab his cock to guide it at my entrance.

“I love you” I say, slowly sinking down on him. “I love you, I love you…”

FEEDBACK IS WHAT MAKES ME WRITE

Forever Tags : @parinarain @animegirlgeeky @mogaruke @masterof-agony @rainflowermoon @tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @roonyxx @thefaithfulwriter @vicariouslythruspn @emeow1496 @daryldixonandfrogs @holylulusworld @cocklesbelli @sandlee44 @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx @stormchasingchick32 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @sister-winchesters99 @neii3n @lyss-dw79 @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid@hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj @i-love-superhero @waywardsisterandpie @sunsetsandbooks @fangirlxwritesx67 @mrspeacem1nusone @stylesismyhubs @deanwanddamons @jawritter @peridottea91 @chelsea072498 @chocolateheart @vicmc624 @teresa-67 @nihilismworld

Text divider by the amazing @talesmaniac89

686 notes · View notes

mybukz · 5 years

Text

Work-in-progress: When Plan's Stolen by Fate by Deborah Wong

Image by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

When Plan’s Stolen by Fate (Novel excerpt from “One Maple Summer’) By Deborah Wong

It’s July 2010. I’m praying the germ-infused Boeing 777 will land in one piece at Vancouver International Airport, and my Nokia 1202 from back home will function. The Pacific Coast forces may have stolen a bit of my luck as I now have no signal—the battery was well-fed and ready to kick ass.

“If you need any assistance, please don’t hesitate to call me,” Sandy, the UBC accommodation officer says. Her smile shines sunnier than the Kellogg’s TV happy family commercial.

I thank her and she hugs me.

“Is there a public phone I can use around this area?”

“There’s one at the concierge but it’s under repair. You can try the one at the Student Centre, about ten minutes walking distance.”

“Alright, thanks for the info.”

“No worry. Take care.”

My heart sinks faster than the Titanic; my headache from the jet lag keeps me up like synchronised car hydraulics coupled with Eminem’s rap. To make matters worse, I’m unable to call my parents about my safe arrival—thanks to my dead phone. Sitting here alone, I want to throw myself off the bouncy comfortable bed, snooze off, and let the tantalising air joyride into a lullaby. No one would yell at me for falling asleep; I smell like an overripe durian.

The digital clock in black and white on the wall states 4:44pm.

With a foggy light brain, I try to balance and change into a fleece hooded sweater and denim shorts. I have no choice but to head to the Student Centre. I hope to stumble—miraculously—onto a phone booth. I roll my Holy Rosary in my pocket.

I step out of the dorm and lock the door like an infant experiencing the glaring evening sun at the foreign land. The cold breeze sweeps onto my face and penetrates my head and whole body. I solemnly declare my brain frozen without the help of immense scoops of Haagen Daaz.

I hear thumping footsteps. I brace for the worst. My hand grips the tree, and I prep myself to fly kick à la Bruce Lee’s Enter the Dragon.

As the footsteps get closer, I punch out my left fist and yell.

When I open my eyes, a man in glasses frowns. “Are you okay?”

I clear my throat and adjust my hooded jacket, embarrassed. “Of course, I…was practising my Kung-Fu.”

He smirks. “You picked the wrong place. What if I carried a knife and I stabbed you as self-defence? You’re lucky I’m not a pervert. You never know what a motherfucker will do. Next time don’t hide behind the tree.”

“Okay, thanks for your advice.” I choke as I feel my face heat up like a red lobster.

“Have a pleasant day and a great summer.”

“I know this sounds crazy but if you don’t mind, could you please lend me your phone? I need to send a text home.”

He turns and studies me.

“I know this sounds weird but I just got here and my phone isn’t working. I really, really need to send a text to my dad back in Kuala Lumpur, to let him know I’ve reached here. Why don’t I pay you a dollar?”

He thinks for a while. “Alright, I won’t charge a cent.” He takes out his Blackberry. “You want to type it yourself?”

“It’s better if you type it for me. It’s your phone anyway.”

“Okay.“ He types like a world champion, listening to me. “You may want to take a look before I send the text.”

I quickly read it. “Okay, you can send it now. Thank you.”

“That’ll be fifty cents service charge.”

“WHAT.”

“Hey, I was joking. I may charge if you’re texting your boyfriend. Anyway, welcome to Vancouver and UBC. I stay in Pacific Crescent.”

“Where is that?”

“Go straight from here, right behind the Asian Studies building, near the Nitobe Memorial Garden.”

“That place looks posh. I’m sure it cost you quite a bit.”

“I have friends coming over very often; hence staying in a dorm isn’t a smart choice. An apartment feels more like a home to me.” He glances at his gunmetal watch. “I need to rush to the convenient store. It’s a great pleasure knowing you.”

“Do they sell any sandwiches or pastries?”

“They only have selection of sandwiches, instant salad and packed sushi.”

“Great, maybe you can show me the way?”

“Sure, no problem…”

“I didn’t get your name.” I walk beside him.

“I’m Jun Nakamura.”

I have not been in this foreign land for twelve hours and I’ve been invited to this house party. Jun tells me Mansfield Heights is the most eventful student housing area in UBC, coming alive only in summer.

There’re blue poles along the cemented walkway and red lightings at each corner. If anyone looks suspicious, ready for misdemeanour or voyeurism, one presses the emergency intercom, a safety object for students, a deterrent. On the other hand, if I were in such situation, I’d run for my life and be sure to look out for this emergency button.

“There’s surveillance camera installed in each lamppost for supervision that links directly to the Vancouver Police Department,” Jun says. His hair is ruffled into pointy soft spikes. He is wearing peasant’s crinkled cut washed jeans and a white t-shirt that reveals his fine avid gym-goer chest.

“So, what kind of party your friend’s having?”

“Booze drinking, cigarettes smoking, chatting and whole loads of eating; take a look around you, it is Friday night but we have to clear the coast by midnight.“ He stops and studies me. “Have you been to any house party before?”

“I did but it was long time ago.”

“How long is long time?”

“I think about fourteen years ago.”

“Whoa, that’s like immeasurable yards away. Anyway we’re here.”

Jun ambles to this NHL nightclub bouncer lookalike, except he has a crimson face and dirty blondish hair. Their greeting is front and back palms slapping and then fists punching like the ghetto Harlem boys.

“Oh c’mon, we don’t welcome underage here.” He stares at me.

“I’m already twenty-eight.”

He laughs. “Sorry, my bad…But you don’t look like your age.”

“So, am I invited?” I raise my brows.

“Of course, you PYT, I’m Montgomery Peterson. Everyone calls me Monty.”

“I’m Maxine Cheong, nice to meet you, Monty.”

Out of nowhere, a girl hops into Jun’s arms, giving him a bear hug, and a quick peck on his cheek. She has porcelain skin and raven shoulder-length hair. “You’re late!”

“Kendra, I want to introduce you to Maxine from Malaysia.“ Jun lets go of her.

“Oh, how un-fucking-believable…” She covers her mouth and smacks his arm. “So, you decided to change your taste for the better, huh?”

“Well, I’m not Jun’s girlfriend,” I smile, curtly.

“Don’t be so serious and spoil the party, or else I’ll throw you out.”

I turn to Jun. Everyone seems to have gone quiet.

“I was just joking. I’m Kendra Choi.” Her tone becomes friendlier.

“Maxine Cheong.”

“You have the coolest name here in Vancouver so far lucky-lucky you.”

Jun returns to the crowd after answering a phone call. “It’s Makoto and he’s stranded at the guardhouse with Yosuke and Paul. The security guard refused to let them in, despite their party invitation pass.”

“Speaking of that guard, he kept calling me a Mongolian and asked whether my family slaughtered horses for a living,” Kendra says.

After Monty and Jun leave to rescue their friends, Kendra and I bump past party-goers before reaching the house living room. She speaks into my ear. “Sorry to disappoint you but it’s still too early to spot a drunkard.”

“I guess they’ll become Intoxicated Cinderella by midnight.”

All the seats are occupied. I have to sit on the carpeted floor, among vinyls of Ozzy Osborne, Green day, Dave Matthews Bands, Cypress Hills, Queen, David Bowie, Rage Against The Machine, just to name a few. Kendra has returned from the washroom.

“Monty once formed an indie rock band during his teens. The band was quite a success from Port Coquitlam to White Rock. But then a fight broke out a day before they were supposed to sign a million-dollar record deal. You wanna know why? The bassist caught the lead guitarist fucking his girlfriend in their trailer. Hell broke lose. All the instruments were damaged by the bassist who ran amok. Worse still, the boys have to pay off the loan and the damaged instruments to the music shop.”

“What instrument Monty played?” I refuse to accept an opened cap bottled drink from a random guy.

“Drums and percussion. He was also a turntablist,” she says with a shrug and a snort, “but one lesson that no other guys will ever learn: do not let your girlfriend join the band practise. Girls fall head over heels with men who play guitars or drums.”

I grab a can of Dr. Pepper from the refreshment bar, while Kendra fills up a plate with finger food. A guy by the banister eyes us before taking up with a girl. Both head upstairs after the guy winks at me.

We spot a three-seater sofa.

“These seats are meant for both of you, my exotic princesses,” says a Hispanic-looking man. He has been feeding another man with bacon stripes.

The Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged record is spinning in the vintage oak wood player. I’ve always been mesmerised by Kurt Cobain’s baritone voice.

“I don’t like his grinding dick voice.” Kendra walks to the player and lifts the needle with the cue lever. “Thanks to Janis Joplin, Joan Jett and Amy Lee, rock music is in my blood now.” She puts on a vinyl of The Runaways, that Cherry Bomb song filled with chattering noises and perfumed muskiness.

“I love X-Japan. Do you like them?”

“Me too!” We do a high-five. “But if you want me to wear a hanbok and play the gayageum in front of Korean men. No way José! Over my dead body! It looks damn submissive. I’ve been referred as a ‘leftover woman’ for not yet being married.”

“You’re not alone. I hear that very often. It happens to me as well. And what a cruel term is that? Nowadays in the Asian community, single and unmarried women are hiring men online to be their boyfriend to please their folks during festive seasons, or to attend their friend’s wedding.”

“Women have the earning power and are financially independent too. Some will have to succumb to the social pressure of not wanting to be called ‘leftover’, hence they get married and start a family, work their peachy-butts out, struggle to get promotion at work, earning more monies for the sake of their children. In the end of the day, it’s always easy to say. But to preserve such feminist though is difficult.”

“I’m in my thirties and not looking forward into getting married,” she says.

“Let’s make a toast to both of us, the most attractive leftovers.”

I raise my paper cup.

She pokes her nose. “Damn, how come I don’t even know you’ve been drinking orange juice? Let’s get you a beer.”

“I’m still recovering from jet lag. Sorry.”

“You should come over to my place one day and we’ll cook up a storm.” She stretches to grab two bottles of beer. “I invite Jun along too. He’s good at ramen, sushi, butter-poached seafood and miso soup.”

“Isn’t that…a big task for him?” I take a bottle but put it aside.

“Give me a break. That guy’s a chef.”

“Jun…is a chef?”

“That smoochy-bear, he is freakingly dedicated and talented. He has worked in Washington DC’s Marriott for couple of years, and then quit after he was promoted to an assistant chef. As to why he quit, well, Jun doesn’t talk about it.”

“…must be those shitty management politics.”

“I still think teaching is the best work so far. Less office politics.”

“You’re a teacher?”

“I teach English to adults and young adults in Tokyo.“ She wipes bread crumbs from her mouth. “And I know this is something uncommon. Even my grandparents are strongly opposed to anyone of us working there due to the Japan-Korea Disputes. So what’d you do for a living?”

“I’ve worked in an insurance company’s claims department for three years. It’s a huge department but most employees quit after the three-month probation. I handle mostly personal accident, employees’ medical bills reimbursement and at times on workers’ provident fund dispute.”

“Any weird cases you’ve dealt with?”

I lean my head on the sofa. “I was reading a decomposed body autopsy report in the food court and a waiter cringed when he saw those bloodied photos of torn phalanges on the claim file. He asked whether the man’s still alive. I said he should be lucky that his fingers didn’t fly into his colleagues’ mouth. His reaction was like this…” I imitate the painting from The Scream.

“Your work is very CSI-ish, so to speak. By the way, I’m curious as to how Jun and you get to know each other.”

“I bumped onto him when my cellphone isn’t working and he helped me to send a text message home.”

“I think you’ve missed the most crucial part.” Jun is walking toward us with a bottle.

Kendra sniffs Jun’s neck. “You smell like fresh from the crispy oven.” She puts her arm over his waist. “He is always so helpful, but inviting you to his friend’s party is his first time. Lot of girls are trying to get their hands on him too.”

Jun whispers to me. “She’s out.”

She clutches her beer bottle, a smile forming on her face. “But you serve a good impression on me, but my experiences taught me not to trust an acquainted human girl too much.”

Later that night, Kendra follows me like a puppy afraid to lose direction. Her eyes stay on Jun whenever we’re engaged in an ear-to-ear conversation because of the loud music at the DJ stands. She puts three Budweiser in front of me. “You have to bottoms up. I don’t care.”

I still have those butterflies in my stomach and don’t have much appetite. But towards the second bottle, Jun pulls Kendra to the kitchen area, and asks Makoto to bring her more food.

Approaching midnight, Makoto offers to drive me back to the dorm, even though it’s only ten minutes walking distance. I’m unable to find Monty to bid goodbye. Jun tells me he’s already passed out near the toilet bowl, and he carries grumpy Kendra into the back of Makoto’s car. I wind down the window, inhale the gentle ocean breeze as the car moves along Marina Drive, but the tranquillity ends with Kendra counting chicken and sheep in a slur.

Deborah Wong: "My works have been published on numerous online journals and paperback magazine, including Crack the Spine, Rat’s Ass Review, Eksentrika, Thought Catalog, Liquid Imagination, Strange Horizons. Some are forthcoming from Frozen Wavelets and Seagery Zine. I have performed at local reading groups and open mic poetry sessions. I am currently working on a fictionalised travel memoir and some speculative poetry and fiction. I have an ongoing artwork-poetry crossover project with an emerging Australian artist on Instagram. You can follow me on Twitter @PetiteDeborah ‘When Plan’s Stolen by Fate’ is the first chapter of my work-in-progress semi-autobiographical novel ‘One Maple Summer’. The novel is about my intensive creative writing workshop at the University of British Columbia in the summer of 2010. At 28 I traveled for the first time 12 thousand kilometers to the other side of the continent. My debit card and cellphone failed, and the one-month stay at a pen pal’s place turned out not as imagined. However, things navigated otherwise when I received accolades from my creative writing course instructors. Discovering the melting pot of diverse cultural background of acquaintances made traveling worth a lifetime.”

#work in progress #novel #malaysian literature #malaysian fiction #malaysian arts #Deborah Wong #when plan's stolen by fate

1 note · View note

chanzicoup · 6 years

Text

Make sure to read the positions of the members in the gang, you’ll need the background info~

Warning: Fighting, Abuse, Mention of Blood, Normal Gang!AU Trigger Warnings (?)

~Blake

S.coups

He knew you were worried, but he couldn't contact you without putting you at risk. He was on a dangerous mission to the enemy's base and he did not tell you that, knowing you'd be against it. He promised he'd be home an hour ago, but getting shot in the chest kind of slowed down the process. The mission went well, despite the bullet that barely skidded his chest. The bullet hit nothing vital and just grazed his skin, so he was grateful he could still rush home to you since he knew that you would not sleep until you knew he was okay. You ran into his arms when he came inside the home you two shared and you noticed how he winced when you hugged him. He explained he got shot and you immediately panicked.

"Babe it's not as bad as it sounds, it barely touched me."

"Then take off your shift and let me deal with the rest if it's not a big deal."

Jeonghan

It was rare he'd be in battle, he was the guy who would go to the parties to sneak out info and leave before any real fights started. But this evening, one between two drunks began out of nowhere and Jeonghan was caught in the dead middle of it. All he remembers is sipping a glass of champagne before two men pushed him onto the table and started wrestling on top of him. The glasses that were arranged on the table shattered on his back, but his suit jacket took most of the blow. Now he only had a bunch of cat like scratches on his back that stung like fire. He went home after that, just as most of the other party goers did to avoid the police, and you asked what had happened.

"Just a cat fight is all."

"I have a kit in the bathroom." You would say before dragging him to the bathroom and sitting on the counter to be able to treat his wounds. But with him, he turned around and stood in between your legs and kept kissing you.

"You spoil me rotten." He'd smirk.

"Let's hurry up so I can really spoil you." You'd wink back.

(damn this turned into smut quickly do I have a hidden jeonghan kink? I mean who doesn't bc look at this man)

Joshua

Poor dude would be the one to fall into a trap and fall over trip wire and wouldn't even notice his bloody knee until you brought it up at home. He was too embarrassed to tell you what really happened and refused to tell you the story but you ended up guessing what had happened and he just becomes a whole blushing mess while you're sanitizing the cut.

"Not so big an tough now, are you?" You would giggle.

"Oh my gosh, are you kidding me?" He says while his face is as red as his knee.

(kimbap kidding)

Jun

Since he's the snipper, he is used to being the sneaky one and he does not entirely focus on his surroundings. They can throw off his aim, and there was never really a need to since he is hidden in the distance where no one can see him shoot. This night was different, however. He was assigned to take care of an enemy but it turns out someone snitched and the enemy was expecting him. He set up at a rooftop about 30 years from the building he was told to be at, and the enemy's guards found him and began beating him. They only got a few punches in before Jun grabbed his handgun and got away. He didn't immediately run to you, he wasn't sure if he was being followed or not so he went back to base while talking to S.coups about the ambush. S.coups called you and ordered Hoshi to pick you up and bring you over. By the time you were there, Jun was basically patched up but you wouldn't leave his side.

"How many times have I told you to be careful?"

"I love you."

"And how many times do you listen?"

"I really love you."

Hoshi

He'd gotten a new dog today which he rescued from a bridge. He knew the dog was aggressive but only because it lacked the proper amounts of love. After feeding the dog he tried to gain it's trust by allowing it to get his scent and petting him, but Hoshi moved a bit to quickly for the dog's liking and it bit his hand. The dog released almost immediately, which proved to Hoshi that the dog didn't do it to be mean, but because it was scared. He spoke calmly and left the room, seeing the dog curl up in a corner and whine. While Hoshi was wrapping his hand you just so happened to walk in with a bag of food you were going to surprise him with. You saw how much blood it was and nearly fainted.

"It's just a bite, the dog didn't mean to do it."

"I understand that, but you really need stitches and we're going to Seungkwan right now to get them." You'd get annoyed with his reluctance to go to the doctor, but you knew it was really just because he didn't want to leave his new dog all by itself.

Wonwoo

He would come into you room in tears, feeling completely broken because of his father. He tried to stand up for himself, but to no avail. He didn't care about his wounds and you didn't care about getting blood on your shirt. You pulled him into a hug and let him cry until he fell asleep. (Promo: Here is the story that died about wonwoo, I recommend)

Woozi

Since Woozi is literally never on the front, he can go outside as he pleases as no one knows his name or face. He was grocery shopping for the movie night you and him were having when three men trapped him while he was turning the corner and drug him into an alley. Two men held Woozi's arms while the other stood in front of him. The man said he knew who Woozi was, who he worked for, and that his group messed with the wrong people. Woozi defended his family and spat in the man's face. The man wiped the spit off and brought out a knife. At that point Woozi was not afraid of dying, he knew he'd die eventually, but he was worried about you. Your life without him. Your happiness. He was afraid of who will take care of you if he leaves this world. The man came at Woozi, but just scratched his face with the blade. One long line of blood dripping down his cheek from his temple to his jaw. The man snapped his fingers and the two other men let Woozi drop to the floor and the tree of them left. Woozi waited a few minutes to leave, just to make sure they were gone, and went home to you.

"Jeez, babe what happened to you?" You asked while pressing a towel to his face to absorb the blood.

"It's fine. I'll deal with it tomorrow." What was most important to him was you, so when you and him got the bleeding to stop and put many bandages on his face, you two settled down for a movie night with a lot of forehead kisses from Lee Jihoon. You wanted him to tell you what happened, but you could let it wait until morning.

He hides everyone in the gang so he is seen as the good neighbor who is always offering the children oatmeal raisin cookies he made with a new recipe he's trying or to water plants for people that are away. Making him an easy target for a dumb burglar who was itching to check out the rich part of town. You and DK were sleeping in bed when you woke up to a noise you thought you heard coming from the kitchen. You tapped him awake and he thought you were just hearing things before he heard it the second time around. He told you to stay in bed and to call S.coups in three minutes if he was not back by then. DK grabs the baseball bat he kept underneath his spot on the bed and started heading down the stairs. The burglar was in the doorway and was armed with a crowbar, DK spotted him as soon as he went all the way down. He hit the intruder before he could turn around but it didn't knock him out and the burglar struck DK with the crowbar on his shoulder. DK recovered quickly and him the burglar with the bat again, making him finally pass out. DK grabbed a pair of handcuffs he kept just in case and cuffed the burglar's hands behind his back. He went back upstairs and saw your from behind hang up the phone.

"Did you call S.coups?" He'd ask. You jumped, not hearing him come back into the room.

"Sweetie, are you alright?!" You yelled while pointing to his shoulder, which was bleeding a bit but bruised more.

"He got me with his crowbar, but he's passed out and tied up downstairs. S.coups will come and take care of it. Let's get back to bed." You weren't having it but you couldn't do much since the ice packs and first aid kits were downstairs. There was no way in hell you were going down there with the burglar still there.

Mingyu

Mingyu was out with Dino late at night, standing guard in front of a vault that a partnering business asked S.coups to protect the night before a grand opening. S.coups was going to do it himself, but Mingyu had thought this would be a good chance to get Dino some experience, after all there was nothing to worry about. Everyone went through and perfected the plan and agreed to it when there were no holes left to fill. The enemy dresses as an employee was not predicted, however and Mingyu got hurt defending Dino, who didn't even see the man with the knife coming. Mingyu got stabbed in the stomach and was injured pretty badly, but Dino bravely fought off the enemy, disarmed him, and got a hold of S.coups. When he was done with S.coups, Mingyu told Dino to call you and to hand him the phone. He was relieved you had answered, he thought you would have ignored the call since it was so early in the morning and he was sure you were asleep. He told you he was hurt and that he wanted to stay on the phone with you until S.coups arrived. He explained what happened, but kept it vague so you wouldn't be too exposed to his job. You let him know that you were on your way to the base, and he begged you to stay at home.

"I don't care, you don't get to tell me when I am allowed to see you. Especially when you have a gash in your stomach and could be dying as we speak."

"You have a point there, sweetheart. And don't worry, you can't get rid of me that easily."

The8

He had successfully snuck into the camera room of the enemy base and shut off all of the alarms. His part was done, now the other members can make it in easier and steal back the weapons these people took from them in the first place. Of course, they'll leave a message as a reminder not to take what wasn't theirs anymore. The8 turned around in the chair to leave when he heard footsteps outside the door. He looked at the cameras and the SVT members were all out on the mission, meaning someone else is by the door. Before The8 could find a place to hide, the door opened and a member of the enemy's team walked in. The8 could recognize the face tattoos. The man charged at The8 and pinned him against the wall, The8 kicked his body off of him and ran towards the door. By now the man could've notified others of The8's presence and the mission could be compromised. He pulled out his walkie talkie to warn S.coups but the man came back and smacked the device out of his hand. All The8 saw next was darkness. When he woke up, you were sitting above him and wiping his face with a damp cloth.

"Y/N?" He asked, things were still hazy for him. He could barely recognize the room he was in, his and your bedroom.

"Glad you're awake." You smiled. Mingyu and Hoshi literally carried The8 into your house about an hour ago and said he was chloroformed during a mission. You knew he'd be alright, but you aren't going to lie to yourself; you got a little scared after he didn't wake up for a while.

The8 sat up slowly and wrapped his arms around you, falling asleep on your shoulder.

Seungkwan

Working on so many people's bodies is normal for a doctor. But working on your own body is the real challenge. Seungkwan was called to come onto the field because someone got shot, but not anywhere as to where it was fatal. This was also normal, someone would escort Seungkwan in and out to make sure he didn't get hurt while coming to save someone else. There was a window right next to Seungkwan that shattered from a bullet ricocheting off of a beam. Seungkwan used his arms to cover his face, leading to his arms from the elbows down having inch deep cuts. On the way home he tried to patch himself up, but it was difficult to reach it all so he went home and smiled sheepishly at you.

"I got myself in a bit of a pickle."

"You're telling me."

But honestly he’d stare at you while you wrap the bandage around his arms because he loves how you learned by watching him do it to other people.

Vernon

He was working with a new kind of explosive when there was a bit of a malfunction in the chemical balances, and a fire broke out. It wasn't like an uncontrollable flame, but the table top caught on fire and Vernon was tapping it with a cover to stop it. When the fire went out he realized he burned his hand and ran to the bathroom to put it under cold water. Coincidentally you walked out of the bathroom at the same time and saw his hand. You grabbed his wrist and put it under cold water yourself and brought out the antibiotic cream and wraps.

"Thanks Y/N."

"Yea, yea, don't mention it."

You wouldn't make a huge deal of it since he didn't get hurt like this often, but you warned him to be careful for the future.

Dino

You were walking home from school when you felt someone was following you from behind. Every time you checked there seemed to be no one there. You thought you were making things up, but you were getting more and more nervous by the second. You called your boyfriend Dino when you heard footsteps behind you and saw a hooded figure. He told you to stay on the phone with him and walk faster, he was tracking your location now and was going to pick you up. He snuck to the garage and took one of the many cars he was working on and raced to where you were, which was the longest five minutes of his life. When he found you he got right out of the car and ran up to you. You were so relieved to have seen him you started to tear up and he hugged you to his chest and kissed your tears away. He looked all around but saw no one.He brought you to the car and buckled you in. He was going to look around to see if he can find anyone. Jut around the corner was a homeless man in dark clothing. He smiled at Dino evilly and asked if the pretty woman was still there. Dino's blood boiled and he told the man to leave you alone and to go somewhere else. The homeless man jumped Dino and brought out a knife, cutting Dino's cheek before he knocked him out. The smell of alcohol was so strong, Dino was one hundred percent certain the man was drunk beyond belief. When Dino went back to the car, he didn't care about his cheek. He grabbed your hand and held it in his.

"I'll drive you wherever you need to baby. There are some creepy bastards here."

"Your cheek..." You whispered, still a little shaken up by the fact that there was someone following you after all. What would have happened to you if you had not called Dino at all?

"It's alright, just a cut."

You went into your book bag and took out tissues you kept for when you had allergies and began dabbing at his cut, cleaning it as best you could. Dino blushed and smiled widely.

"Thanks mom!"

"Ok then bleed out if you want."

#svt #kpop #svt gang au #kpop mafia au #svt mafia au #kpop gang au #svt imagine #svt reactions #kpop imagine #kpop reactions #svt scenarios #kpop scenarios

136 notes · View notes

shirtlesssammy · 6 years

Text

3x02: The Kids Are Alright

Then:

Dean’s going to hell, guys!

Now:

In Cicero, Indiana, a divorced suburban mom anxiously waits the return of her daughter. It’s the girl’s night to spend with her dad, but upon her return she pleads with her mom to never go back. It’s scary and there are monsters there. Meanwhile, the dad is busy working in his shop --making a wooden toy that’s about 5 years too late if it’s for his daughter that hates him. It’s late so he calls it a night, but as he walks away, the table saw spins to life.

He switches it off and walks away again --only for it to turn on again. As he goes to investigate again, something attacks him from behind, pushing him onto the blade. Blood gushes everywhere! And the camera pans to the little wooden horse, rocking slowly back and forth.

Meanwhile, Sam is 1000% unable to play it cool when talking to Bobby about Dean’s demon deal, flubbing about ordering pizza at a diner. Good save, Sammy! Dean’s caught a case and a serious desire to relive the bendiest weekend of his life. He’s in YOLO mode and wants to see Lisa Braeden again. Dean’s in high spirits as he drops Sam off at the motel, telling him, “Don’t wait up for me.”

Dean pulls into a new suburban neighborhood, and locates Lisa’s house. She’s a bit surprised to see him. It’s been almost 9 years since that weekend after all. “Dean Winchester. Wow.” Haha, so say we all. She’s a bit busy at the moment. She’s throwing a birthday party for her son, Ben, who’s turning 8. He also has close cropped spiky hair, loves hard rock, cars, and food. Dean looks on with consternation while Lisa greets her friend, the woman from the cold open. Dean mingles with the locals.

And some quality time with his mini-me.

Dean does some quick math in his head (I LOVE when Dean visibly counts to himself. It’s something so endearing and consistent about Dean over the years.)

Lisa is consoling her friend about her ex-husband’s untimely demise. Her friend confesses that she feels there’s something wrong with Katie, her daughter. In fact, she’s not sure it’s actually her daughter. She goes to collect Katie to leave the party.

Dean walks in and ever so casually asks Lisa if Ben is his. (Natasha: dies laughing) Lisa dismisses his concerns, but it’s clear Dean’s still a little nervous. But even under possible parental distress, Dean’s able to work the case and ask Lisa about the death of her friend’s ex. Lisa admits to a lot of bad things in the neighborhood.

Sam, meanwhile, gets a visit from Ruby. Cue dramatic zoom. Sam wants to know more about her knife that can kill demons (those innocent days! I don’t even think he knows she’s a demon here!) Ruby wants to talk about Sam’s ESP -- and his mom’s friends (what?? My mind is fuzzy about this.) As she’s leaving, she tells Sam there’s a case in this town.

Two seconds later, Dean calls and tells Sam there’s a case in this town --four other people have died in Lisa’s neighborhood.

Meanwhile, Lisa’s friend wakes from a nap (after falling asleep reading The Historian. Lol, I completely understand Friend of Lisa, but Show, a book about bloodsuckers is a little too on the nose.) Her daughter is watching her like a little creepoid.

The girl is creepy and clingy and has some seriously messed up skin when the mom sees her reflection in the mirror.

Sam investigates the other homes where people died.

I submit this photograph for Insurance purposes only:

As the woman points out where her husband fell and died, Sam notices blood on the windowsill, and a blank staring little girl looking out the window --and a sucker-like hickey on the back of the mom’s neck.

Friend of Lisa’s is rubbing her own neck when she’s making Katie her lunch. She tells her daughter to eat and then locks herself in the bathroom to inspect her own sucker hickey. Eww. There’s a pounding on the door. She wants in. She continues to rattle the door while Friend of Lisa’s grows increasingly worried. The rattling stops when the doorbell rings. She rushes downstairs to find Katie answering the door to the neighborhood sunshine representative, bearing a basket of goodies. The woman inquires how they’re doing, and then about if they’re planning on keeping the house. Cold, lady. Friend of Lisa’s slams the door in her face, only to find Katie right there demanding ice cream.

Out and about, Dean sees a sad Ben, sitting alone. He joins Ben on the bench and asks if there’s something wrong. Ben’s as chatty as his not-father when it comes to emotions. Some kid borrowed Ben’s game and now he won’t give it back. Ben refuses to let Dean meddle. Dean’s proud of the little guy for wanting to fight his own fights. (I hold back my commentary about toxic masculinity being passed down to the next generation. My, how far we’ve come, Dean Let-It-Go Winchester.)

Ben heads up to the group of bullies and calls out the kid who stole his game. Ben knees him in the balls and grabs his game while Dean grins from the sidelines. Lisa storms up and berates Ben for kicking another kid. Dean gets the Mom Look of Death ™.

Lisa (RIGHTLY SO) reminds Dean that they spent a single night together years ago and it is hella creepy for Dean to be hanging out with her son right now. Like, I KNOW RIGHT? (Team Lisa) Lisa and Ben head out, only for Ben to run back to Dean and give him a big thank you hug. It’s super adorable.

And then...the adorableness dies swiftly as creepy children in the playground turn in unison to stare at Dean.

And back with Friend of Lisa, her daughter is aggressively telling her that she loves her while mom, weeping, buckles her into the car. Mom adjusts the rearview and catches a glimpse of...well…

Drive, momma, drive! The little girl is still JONESING for ice cream so mom drives them to a nice refreshing...boat ramp. She puts the car in neutral, releases the parking brake, and the car and child slide slowly into the water. (I find this scene particularly horrifying because of its layer of real life parallels so GOOD JOB writers for making me feel awful.)

Mom gets home, emotionally ravaged, only to find a water soaked little girl sitting at her table. “Hi mummy,” the girl says. “Can I have that ice cream now?” Fuuuuuuuck.

Sam, meanwhile, is diligently doing research when Dean bursts into the hotel room. (Side note: there’s been so little Sam in this episode that I was actually surprised to see him again. In my defense, I’m tired. In my defense, I’m also distracted by creepy kids.) Sam’s function is clearly to dump a ton of lore on us. We learn that changelings aren’t just babies. They can be kids - and there’s one at every house that’s had a death. They climb in through the windows and steal the real children, then feed on the back of the mothers’ necks for a few weeks. (Query: it’s heavily implied that changelings only feed on women. Does this mean that the children of gay male couples are safe? Duly noted, man.)

Dean preps the weaponry. Just...fire. Lots of fire.

Sam thinks the kids might still be alive somewhere underground. Dean low key flips out about the idea of any of the kids getting snatched and heads straight to Lisa. When Lisa opens the door she looks harried, Dean looks dorky. Awww they’re so cute. (Man, I love Dean and Lisa almost as much as I love Dean and Cas. It doesn’t hurt that Lisa’s smile is like the frickin’ sun.)(Boris: Vigorously nods in agreement.) Dean hands Lisa a credit card and tells them to go on vacation together. Guys, it’s a TOTALLY NORMAL gift for a 9-years-later hookup to give. She asks Dean about the hinky name on the card but then Ben shows up. “Make him go away, Mommy,” says a decidedly chillier Ben. Lisa takes the hint (while Dean’s hunter hackles rise) and the door gets slammed between them.

Awwww shiiiiit, a monster’s got Ben!

Dean stalks around the house, looking for clues. (Again, in the hunting context we’re like okay COOL good job and in the real world context we’d be going SHIT LISA CALL 911 he’s outside of your house!!!) Dean finds the telltale blood on the sill. Ben’s done got snatched. Dean races to the car. It’s not blood on the sill, he tells Sam. It’s….

“Red dirt,” Sam concludes as we scene jump to one of the buildings under construction. (SIDE NOTE dudes I used to live near Sedona AZ the capitol of red dirt and when dried it did not look like blood. What I’m saying is, someone get some decontamination crews to this neighborhood. It’s a biohazard zone. No wonder property’s so cheap.)

They investigate the house. Dean finds the basement, hears a noise, and heads on down. He finds trapped kids (including Ben) and tells him that he’ll be free soon. Meanwhile, Sam (Sam is here too!) gets confronted by the nosy realtor with the muffin baskets. Downstairs, Dean discovers the caged realtor in the basement. Wherps. Sam’s smart, though, so instead of getting talked into buying a house he whips out his trusty business card.

Fake Ben gets all up in Lisa’s grill, asking for food, so Lisa offers him pizza. Fake Ben agrees and Lisa notices his reflection in her shiny coffee table. Yeesh.

Lisa may be having a shit time, but Dean’s enjoying his father(????) & son bonding moment as they work together to free and comfort the other children. Dean busts a hole through the window and gets everyone out. Just then momma changeling appears. Dun dun DUN.

Lisa confronts fake Ben. “I love you, mommy,” he says in response. Lisa grabs her keys and gets the fuck out of town, but there are kids in her lawn ready to go all Children of the Corn on her. She heads back inside.

Momma changeling gives a good fight, beating the shit out of Dean and Sam. All the while, Ben calmly gets all the kids out. Sam blasts the changeling mom with fire and the fire cascades to all the changeling children. They erupt into flame and ash, including the ones tormenting Lisa and Friend of Lisa.

Lisa races out as the sun rises and greets Ben joyfully. They head inside, Lisa sets Ben up with food and headphones, and then Dean fills her in on his line of work.

Dean asks one more time about Ben’s parentage and Lisa sets him straight (OR DOES SHE). She took a blood test...it was a dude she met in a bar. “I swear you look disappointed,” she says as Dean looks low key devastated.

“Some stuff happened to me recently, and, uh. Anyway, a guy in my situation. You start to think, you know. I'm gonna be gone one day, and what am I leaving behind besides a car?”

Dean. You’re breaking my fucking heart. Lisa asks him to stay for a while and he gets the fuck out instead because he doesn’t think he deserves good things. (weeps some more)

For Science:

Basically if they’re both in the same frame I am DEAD. They’re tooooo pretttyyyyy.

I uncurl from my ball of sorrow to recap the Sam is Here Too ™ portion of the episode. He’s checking up on his mom’s friends. They’re all dead. He meets Ruby and she tells him they’re dead because of the Yellow Eyed Demon. Sam demands to know who she really is and she goes all black eyed on him. Ruby insists that she’s on his side. “It’s all about you,” she tells him. She’s just trying to figure out how all the puzzle pieces fit together. And if he plays ball, she’ll help him save Dean.

These Quotes Want Some Ice Cream:

O-kay, Weirdy Mcweirderton

Gumby girl. Does that make me Pokey?

I’m interested in you because you’re tall.

Something’s wrong with the kids in this town.

We'll just bust in, drag the kids out, torch them on the front lawn. That'll play great with the neighbors.

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spnrecap #spnrewatch #spn 3x02 #the kids are alright #dean winchester #sam winchester #lisa braeden #ben braeden #supernatural season 3

37 notes · View notes

lightshadowverisimilitude · 7 years

Text

Painting meatballs

For @copperbadge: Sounds like you could use some cheering up this week. :)

Most days, being a superhero did not pay off. He’d been chased through probably twenty miles of tunnel, managed to drop his last nine arrows down an open manhole (who just leaves manholes open?), and it was only by the grace of his fingertips that he hadn’t gone down after them. He’d forgotten to go grocery shopping, he had a headache from somewhere south of hell, and he was almost hungry enough to share a bowl of Kibbles ‘N’ Bits with Lucky and call it a night.

“Happy freaking birthday to me,” he grumbled as he trudged up the stairs to his apartment. By the time he realized that his keys had apparently gone the way of the arrows, he didn’t even have enough frustration left in him to swear. He dropped his head forward, hitting the door about ten million times harder than he’d meant to, and jerked away with both hands over his forehead.

He definitely didn’t think anyone could blame him for being a tiny bit slow to react when his apartment door opened by itself, but he did manage to have a knife up by the time the interloper leaned around the doorway.

Natasha quirked an eyebrow at him. “Is that a sharpened butter knife?”

Clint glowered at her and slid the blade back into his boot – one of only three, but his count, that hadn’t ended up buried in some guy’s thigh, or washed away in Shit River. “I had to improvise,” he defended. “Why are you in my apartment?”

The other eyebrow quirked up to join the first. “Why are you not in your apartment? Also, you smell like sewage.”

“Long story.”

She tipped her head to the left to examine him, and maybe he was projecting or something else that the group home counselor would have said was unhealthy, but he was positive she could see right through the smarting mark on his head and read his mind. Without a word, she stepped back to hold the door open and gestured inside with one hand.

“I’ll get you a beer.”

“Don’t have any,” Clint muttered. He had about half a bottle of Nat’s shitty vodka somewhere, though he’d used the whiskey for antiseptic the week before.

“Good thing Jan knows how to throw a party,” she said. Her smile softened slightly and she gestured in again. “Though Tony thought jumping out and yelling ‘surprise’ was a smart idea for all of twenty-two seconds.”

Clint shuddered just imagining the heart attack he would have had if he’d opened the door and yelling had been the result. He was suddenly grateful that he’d lost his keys – he’d forgotten all about Stark’s threatened birthday party, and he was more than a little surprised that everyone else had apparently remembered. Now that he was paying attention like an ex-assassin and current masked superhero with poor apartment security and lots of enemies should be, he could hear the faint chatter of about half a dozen people and the subtle clinking of forks on plates.

He glanced at the door and then over to the elevator. “Maybe I should just go get some chips or something.”

Natasha shrugged. “If you want. But your meatballs will probably be cold by the time you get back.”

Clint’s stomach emitted a loud snarl, and his mouth instantly flooded with saliva. Nat might have been kinder than most people gave her credit for, but she still laughed at him as he stood rooted to the spot, doing a good impression of a meatball-zombie.

“Please tell me they’re not those bullshit fancy meatless-meatballs or whatever Pepper had A Thing about,” he begged.

“Nope, they’re the cheap frozen meatballs you get out of a bag and dump in the oven.”

He could have kissed her. He definitely did moan, “My favorite.”

His apartment had been cleaned, and it smelled like Pinesol and sweet sweet processed meatballs fresh from the oven. Every lamp he owned had been moved into the living room, which had apparently not been enough, because there was an Iron Man suit standing in the corner and glowing like a six-and-a-half-foot art deco lamp.

“Surprise?” Tony offered, from the kitchen, and Holy Patron Saint of I’m never letting you live this down, was wearing a bright yellow apron liberally splashed with hearts and smiling sunflowers, a matching pair of oven mitts, and a lime green party hat.

“Why are you like this?” Clint blurted out with a laugh.

“Laugh all you want,” Tony said, setting down a tray of freshly cooked previously frozen guaranteed delicious meatballs so he could point at Clint with one bemittened hand. His eyes transferred over Clint’s shoulder and he nodded faintly. “But I’m leaving this here when I go. You can thank Jan.”

“Happy birthday!” Jan said as soon as Clint turned to face her, looking like she was ready to burst. “I really want to hug you, but you have been out doing things that got you a little too close to a sewer. Air hug!” She announced and crossed her arms over her own chest, squeezing hard and twisting side-to-side.

It looked like a really nice hug, and Clint was even sorrier about the damned sewer. He looked between his bathroom door and the piles of warm meatballs, and made a noise that he normally would have blamed on Lucky, but Lucky was on his back in the middle of the living room, shamelessly soaking up the belly rubs from Thor and getting his muzzle petted by Steve.

Natasha pushed past him to the kitchen, piled a dozen meatballs on a purple plate with the Hawkeye symbol stamped in the middle, and nudged him away with one finger. “They should be cooled down by the time you wash your hands. Go!”

Clint eagerly took the plate, leaned over, and lipped one of the meatballs right off the top. He tried to smirk at her, but was too busy sucking air in around the molten mouthful as she pushed him toward his bedroom.

~*~

Despite orders to the contrary, Clint had devoured the plate of meatballs before his shower, and he felt less likely to gnaw someone’s arm off by the time he made it back to the living room. A long folding table had been wedged between the couch and the bar, and it looked like Jan had dumped the entire Hawkeye section of Party City on top of it. It was cheesy, and stupid, and perfect. He stood in the doorway for a second to just look it over – they were all pretending that he wasn’t staring at them, and that was what good friends were for when you just got off of a Hell Week leading into Nightmare Night. Lucky was up on his back legs so he could have his front paw on Tony’s lap and was doing his damndest to get at the mountain of meatballs in the center of the table.

“I’m not feeding you,” Tony told the dog seriously, but his hand was wrapped around Lucky’s ribs to rub at his belly. “Seriously, have I ever fed a single thing in your entire life? Why don’t you go to climb in Steve’s lap? He’s a dog person, and I know for sure that he’s fed you at least once tonight.”

“That was just a treat, Tony,” Steve protested.

“He said the word treat,” Tony told Lucky, which just got him a messy kiss across the cheek and Tony leaning comically sideways in the chair to in a vain attempt to avoid it.

“Just push him away,” Clint suggested, stepping into the living room and climbing over the couch to get the open chair.

Tony gave him a frankly scandalized look, but turned back to Lucky to say, “You’re not getting anywhere with this. I am immune to canine flattery.”

“Not all canine flattery,” Natasha muttered, and for some unfathomable reason, Steve blushed and kicked her under the table. Natasha neatly dodged, and held an open beer out for Clint, so cold that it had mist curling out of the neck and droplets running down the sides.

“I love you,” Clint told her very seriously.

“I know,” she answered.

He swallowed about half of it before pressing the cold bottle gently to his forehead and rolling it back and forth. This was the life – why did he not have a million roommates again? He set the bottle aside and looked down to realize that what he’d mistaken for plates were actually large plastic painter’s pallets with little cups of “paint” set around the edges. There was a bright purple cup of paintbrushes sitting opposite his beer, and a stack of napkins with the Avengers Assemble cartoon Hawkeye at his elbow.

Jan leaned forward to explain, but Clint just shoved his finger in the yellow paint and licked it off – spicy mustard, the kind he got at Chinese restaurants and poured over everything.

“Or you could just do that,” Jan finished, laughing. “It was Steve’s idea.”

“This,” Clint said, snagging a meatball off the pile and a paintbrush, “Is the best birthday idea ever.”

Jan nudged Tony, who was still not-really fending off Lucky’s affectionate begging. “And you wanted to bring wine,” she scoffed.

Clint had three painted meatballs stuffed in his mouth when Jan climbed out of her chair and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She leaned over to press their cheeks together and squeezed hard, rocking him gently side-to-side.

“Happy birthday.”

“’appy meathba’ ‘ay,” Clint corrected, but he reached up to squeeze her wrist and leaned back against her.

Maybe he was just imagining it or something, but it seemed like his headache was gone.

#ladyshadowdrake writes #ficclet #Clint barton #birthday parties #magic hugs chase away headaches #9/52 #52 for 52

359 notes · View notes

star-captain · 7 years

Text

Chasing Matt

A short story of when the Paladins find Matt Holt, and the...err events of trying to catch him. This is the first time I’ve ever shared a piece of my writing online. All characters, plot, and rights belong to Dreamworks animation.

No real ships here, just the team being dorks.

______________________________________________________

This was a crazy, desperate mission. Something not to help other prisoners like he was, but just to keep the Galra off their backs. If Matt had a say in this rebel group, he would’ve given the plan more thought. But he’s one of the lowest ranks in the team. He’s so new, he’s practically turning green.

No, that’s the awful alien food. He’s really not used to it, even after a year in space. Far from home. Alone, without Shiro or his father. Matt looks down at the plasma gun in his hand, then around at the aliens in the transport ship heading to the base their raiding.

How’d he get into this situation? He knew that being in the Galaxy Garrison was dangerous, but they never mentioned the fact he could quite literally be abducted. A year, he was a prisoner. His father is gone, Shiro escaped. Now he’s a member of some fringe rebellion against a tyrannical empire.

As long as Katie’s safe, Matt thinks, then I’ll keep fighting. He grips the gun harder as they make a rough landing on the backside of the Galran moonbase. Shiro was an amazing pilot, much better than these doofs.

“Okay, everyone out. We don’t have long till they’ll pick up our signature and destroy the ship. Once we lose our escape, it’s back to the prisons for us all.” the commanding alien states, opening the door. Artificial gravity and atmosphere holds them down and gives them air. But it’s hot, like an August day in the desert. The sun was incredibly close.

Matt doesn’t have time to study space, though he’d love to. They need to get to work. The group hurries into the base, sliding past the sentries after a small EMP powers them down. Matt can’t help but think of Katie. She’d love all this tech, little stuff to fiddle with like back home.

“Mah-at.” An alien growls, smacking him back to reality. They never got his name right. “Hurry up and daydream when we’re not infiltrating.”

“Right, yeah. Yes sir.” He runs to catch up inside the dimly lit halls. The group hurries onward, time ticking away.

They didn’t get very far till a large, loud, and angry alarm startles the human and his team. “They found us.” Matt whines. “The-”

“Alert, systems detecting five undocumented spacecraft locked onto Base. Engage surface to space cannons.” A Galra voice cuts him off. Five? But Matt and the other rebels only came in one spacecraft! Someone else was crashing in on the party.

“Maybe we should try and help them! They could aid us!” Matt suggests. The commanding officer shakes his head.

“No, rookie. Just because they’re undocumented means they’re rebels. We just gotta get you to the control panel and wipe out the coordinates of our faces and home base coordinates and we’ll be golden.” He hisses, then moves forward.

The halls are eerily empty, all the sentries after the five ships. Matt is incredibly curious, but his commander is right. with the unguarded halls, the group reaches the control room in no time. “Get to work, rookie. Lets hope they don’t take out those ships too quickly.” Matt moves toward the panel close to the window, and opens the interface.

Just beyond the purple hologram, a large ship flies past. No, not a ship, a lion? When have there been lions in space? And why is this one blue and shooting ice from it’s mouth? “Uh, sir, you should see this.” Matt looks out at the pride of lions attacking an entire fleet of Galra warships. And winning. Four against at least ten. Impressive. Kaitie would adore this.

Matt gets back to work, engaging the open mic to hear the chatter of Galra. He can’t understand most of it, but sometimes words from the assailants reaches the ears of his group. Most were quiet, from distance to pick up. It wasn’t until a very loud, clear voice announces “Hey, guys! I found Matt!”

Matt looks up from his control panel. A fifth lion, yellow and bulky, is staring right into the control room. Right at Matt. Matt shrieks, falling backwards as the lion lurches forward. “Abort mission, abort mission!” Matt’s commander asserts, dragging the terrified human away from the reaching mouth. He was right, these aren’t allies.

The chatter Matt pulled up is now heard across the entire base, down each and every hall. That same voice from the yellow lion groans. “Lance, we got a runner, you and Keith flank to exits while Pidge and I go in.”

Why do they want Matt? And what the hell is a Pidge? No time to think, Matt had to get out. As they run through the halls, a loud tearing noise riots the building. One of the lions must’ve torn away at the base. Gravity lessens, and Matt’s feet leave the ground. Great, this just got even harder. He pushes off the wall, knowing the Galra can propel themselves.

Down the halls, the team makes their escape before any assailants or Galra can notice them. They were so close to getting the exit unseen. Then, a humanoid in a red and white suit jets toward them. Toward Matt. “Pidge, I have eyes on Matt.” the attacker announces. Matt sees the sword in his hands, and he grips his gun and fires. “Whoa!” This knocks him off balance, but wards away the sword guy. They keep naming this Pidge guy. Why would this Pidge want Matt of all people?

An alien with three legs, an ally, grabs him and putters towards the exit as the red guy comm-chats “They’re making it out, everyone out. We’ll get him back.” Back. They must be Galra mercenaries. Matt refuses to go back.

The rebels make it outside. Above their heads, ships struggle to keep up with the four lions. At a distance, a red one stands proud. Red, like the guy who just attacked them. Or was going to.

“Hurry up! I don’t wanna get caught in this firefight.” Matt’s commander growls, and they bounce their way across the moon towards their hidden ship. Matt can still hear the words of the attackers.

“Lance, they’re coming your way! -” some of the feed cuts out. “and Pidge are pinpointing to surround Matt.” Before Matt could warn his team, the blue lion he saw before is knocking Matt away from his team. They don’t even turn around for him. It’s survival of the fittest here on the fringe, and Matt is about to become some guy’s next paycheck, whoever this pidgeon person is.

Matt wasn’t going out without a fight. He pulls up his gun, and starts shooting at the lion. “Hey, hey quit that!” The lion yells, even though the shots were bouncing harmlessly off the metal of the creature. The lion lurches back, then spits out...a hairball? No, another attacker, this time in blue and white armor. Ah, so each of these lions must have a pilot. Shiro would love piloting these things.

The blue attacker comes out with a gun. “Hey Matt! Stop firing! We’re here to-” Matt doesn’t let him finish, firing shots at him. The attacker jets away, and Matt keeps him at bay as he desperately pushes toward the ship his allies were at.

In his path, however, a black lion lands, and another aggressor makes their way toward him. Matt turns to retreat the way he came, but the red lion and his sword wielding knight land. Desperate, Matt looks to the landing bay of the Galra ships. The yellow lion emerges from the wreckage, and a larger yellow humanoid makes their way towards him. That’s four.

Matt turns, and looming just above him was the last lion. Green, like earth trees in summer. “Go ahead and land, Pidge, we’ll try to quell him.” The red attacker says across the feed Matt hacked.

“I’m not going back to your Galra prisons!” Matt roars, then takes a wayward shot at the black attacker. The bolt completely misses, instead taking out a weak rock beyond the lions. That weak rock tumbles, and the larger rock perched upon it comes tumbling down. Towards Matt.

Matt’s terrified, unable to move. Unable to run. At least this death will be less painful than in a Galra prison. Matt can’t move, so he simply closes his eyes. For a second he swears he can hear his sister, Katie. “Matt no!”

Just before the rock was about to crush Matt, a small blur of green smacks into his chest. Him and the green soldier go tumbling into space, the attacker gripping at him hard. This must be the Pidge. Their shoulder seized up and down, and Matt was terrified.

Gripping at his waist, Matt pulls out his knife. Pidge isn’t going to keep him prisoner. He takes a wild swing at the Pidge’s shoulder. It lands, cutting through the fabric and releasing blood from their shoulder. It also knocks their helmet off.

To Matt, it feels like a thousand things are happening at once. A familiar voice screams out, a voice of command and reason. Shiro’s voice. But that was hardly his main focus.

Drifting in space, across from him, bleeding from their shoulder was the exact likeness of him. Brown hair that was cut to an unruly shortness; brown, curious eyes. But this copy of Matt was much shorter. “Katie?” He breathes, astounded.

He just attacked his sister. His sister who launched out a giant, metallic green lion. Who he last saw a year ago before leaving earth. Who’s now parsecs from earth, from home. In space. Who’s bleeding.

Matt looks down at the other four, getting a good look at them all now. Humans, those were human faces under each mask. One face he clearly recognized. Shiro, under the black helmet. They all moved forward, each carrying some kind of weapon. “Pidge? Pidge answer us!” They all call, their eyes set towards his sister. Katie was Pidge? That makes no sense.

The other humans don’t reach Katie first. With a bright yellow glint, the green lion has pounced. It snatches both Katie and Matt, swallowing them. When Matt dares to open his eyes, he’s on the ground inside the creature. Katie’s beside him, groaning in a seat. The seat moves forward, and he follows.”Katie, it’s you.” He breathes again, looking at her wound. The lion moves on it’s own again, flying towards a blue and white ship in orbit.

Katie opens her eyes, looking over her brother. “Hey Matt, long time no see.”

“Katie, what are you doing out here? Wha-what are you doing in space? What is this thing, who are all they? How did you get here? What is going on?” He spitballs questions as she grasps at her wound. “I’m so, so sorry Katie.” He whispers.

“It’s...it’s fine Matt. I always wondered what being in a healing pod would feel like.” She grins. “Turns out we both had a destiny in space. This is my lion, Green lion. Turns out I make a mean pilot, especially as an arm.”

“What is this thing?” He can’t help but ask. She looks at the other lions, their pilots flying them in tight, protective formation.

“Welcome to team Voltron, Matt. We all got a lot of catching up to do.” The familiar voice, and now Shiro’s scarred face grins.

End.

_________________________________

Hope you guys like this! Got a long longer than I expected, sorry!

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #voltron pidge #pidge gunderson #vld #voltron shiro #voltron hunk #voltron lance #voltron keith #fanfic

3 notes · View notes