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niqhtlord01 · 3 years

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Humans are Weird: Soldier without a war. Part I

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“You sure the speks don’t patrol there?”

“If they did do you really think I’d bring this rust bucket along for a job?”

Melp strapped himself into the copilot’s chair and looked over the console readings one last time. All systems were showing minimal operational capacity which normally would have been setting off alarm bells but with how things had been going for him and his captain lately it was the best they could ask for.

Melp was part of the salvage company “Outlying Star”, co-owner in fact with his partner and current captain Galem. When the war against humanity had started the two had thought it was the best idea to make a fortune with all the wrecks floating between star systems from fleet combat and had went all in on a converted freighter to pick through the bones and sell what they could.

At first Melp and Galem had made a killing, bringing in semi functional sub space drives and salvaged fully automated hard shell loaders from human ships. They made enough to fund a fleet of five ships and live the good life back on Valfha without a care in the world; for a little while at least.

Galem thought it was because of the government’s restrictions on salvageable items that had hampered their business but Melp believed it was because they were just too good at it that and had inspired countless others to take up the salvage game. Soon markets, both legal and black, became flooded with salvaged goods and people willing to undercut each other to make a quick buck. Neutron cannon went from 3.5 billion credits in value to just under 300 million credits in the span of six months. As a side effect of the sudden influx of salvage parts the government began taking notice and cracked down hard. Salvagers were called “Scavies” and deemed criminals by the government and the military would all too happily fire on any scavy ship they spotted. Seems they weren’t too happy about people rummaging through the wrecks of ships that once held their friends and the government would turn a blind eye if a scavy ship was destroyed during “Live Fire Exercises”.

Soon the jobs became even riskier and Outlying Star lost three ships after they were caught and destroyed. Another had to be sold for parts and salvage and now the final ship, the Morning Gale, was the last hope for Galem and Melp to make back some money.

“How do you even know this site hasn’t been picked clean already?” Melp asked over his shoulder as Galem entered the cockpit and locked the door behind him. “We could be wasting our time on a fantasy.” Galem shook his head which did little to ease Melp’s concerns.

“I got it from a reliable source that there was a big fight in the Glipi Cluster that we lost to the humans.” Galem began as he took the controls and slowly pulled back on the engine throttle as the ship ascended. “It was so embarrassing that the navy wiped all records of the battle and said the destroyed ships were lost in a freak transition from sub space into a rogue comet cluster.”

“If the data was wiped how does your source know about it?” Melp quipped as the ship breached upper atmosphere and exited the travel lanes for the jump point.

Galem smirked as he engaged the sub space drive.

“They were there.”

As the salvage ship exited sub space Melp let out a gasp. He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes yet when he opened them all he could see was a shroud of purple. Galem saw Melp’s confused expression and chuckled.

“It’s the color of the gas filtering through this entire cluster.” He said calmly as he flicked on several scanners and filter units. “Try looking now.”

Melp looked again as the shades of purple faded away and let out a startled gasp. Upon gazing out of the cockpit window he could see why the navy had wanted to cover up this place so badly.

Floating around them were dozens of lifeless wrecks of Mibari warships ranging from light destroyers to several cruisers. Compared to their tiny ship it was as if Melp and Galem had entered the realm of giants. Melp was transfixed by the wrecks and became utterly enthralled when a massive shadow draped across their vessel.

“Is that what I think it is?” Melp spoke sheepishly as his blue hands trembled and changed to a soft orange color. Galem leaned forward in his seat to look out the window and whistled as his eyes caught sight of what had terrified Melp.

“A galaxy class troop carrier.”

The massive ship spun slowly in place like a top that refused to stop spinning, the metal interior exposed in several places from weapons revealing a dark interior of metal supports and long dead hallways. Melp looked towards the front of the ship as the command deck slowly spun into view and he was surprised to see the name of the ship had survived the damage it had taken.

“The Vault of Ohya…” Melp softly spoke. He reached out with an arm and shook Galem who was smiling like a hatchling on birthing day. “That’s the Vault of Ohya!”

“A piece of her hull to the right collector would be enough to refurbish this little dingy,” Galem said as he playfully smacked the command console, “into one hell of a floating casino.”

The two of them broke down into fits of laughter as if they had just been driven mad by their findings; but it was not of madness that now drove them but the sheer joy of their discovery.

These dozen ships floating lifelessly in the cluster were more than enough to bring the two of them back into the life of luxury they once held and keep them there until their dying days.

Melp was still star gazing at the shattered troop carrier when something else suddenly grabbed his attention.

“What’s that?”

Melp tore his gaze away from the Ohya and saw what Galem was looking at.

A new vessel slowly drifted out of the shadow of the troop carrier and came into view. It was clearly a human vessel of some kind; the lack luster design a clear give away. The body of the ship was missing sections of itself, but rather than appearing as if it had been damaged in the battle it looked more as if the ship had not finished being built. Sections of the body were lacking armor showing a complex network of pipes and corridors. The hull was painted in a soft grey color that stood out sharply among the ever shifting gas cloud surrounding it. Rows of gun ports ran along the sides, their openings revealing nothing of the pitch black interior giving them the appearance of small gaping mouths ready to consume Melp and his ship.

The more Melp looked at the ship the more he felt something was just wrong with it. Galem must have felt something as well as he pulled up the virtual display and began interacting with it.

“Not sure what that thing is but it’s not listed in the records.” He said as he closed the display and leaned over the controls to get a better view of it. The tingling feeling at the bottom of Melp’s three stomachs was starting to grow stronger as his uneasiness did not subside.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that there’s no record of that ship variant from the entire war with humanity on any recorded file.” He popped open the virtual display again and flicked it over so it was hovering in front of Melp to view while he fiddled with the controls again. “Which means it’s worth a whole lot more than anything here.”

“How do you figure that?” As a response to Melp’s question he waved his arm across the scattered wrecks.

“Out of all the ships here the human ones are all clustered around that one as if they meant to protect it.” Galem said as he began moving the ship closer to the strange human ship.

“They could have bugged out and ran, but instead they all fought and died just to protect that thing; which means something on it must’ve been worth defending.”

Melp knew what Galem had some merit, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still very wrong; but before he could raise his concerns though a loud shudder ran through the scavenger ship.

“Get your suit on,” Galem said as he exited out of the cockpit, “let’s go find us some treasure.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If the exterior of the ship had uneased Melp, the interior down right terrified him.

No sooner had the airlock door opened the two scavengers leaped back in shock. Standing at the entrance was a humanoid looking figure. Galem screamed and grabbed hold of a nearby cutting tool and swung it at the figure before Melp could even say anything.

A shower of sparks eradiated off the figure’s body as the plasma torch cut into it, all the while Galem was continuing to scream, and cut a decent size hole through the beings torso.

“Shut it!” Melp shouted at Galem, forcing the scared halfwit to calm down some while Melp inched closer and retrieved the still burning plasma torch. The figure had not moved and inch even as the torch had melted away his exterior and as Melp moved closer still he noticed why.

“It’s an automated drone you idiot.”

Melp motioned him forward and the two of them inspected the machine.

It was human shaped but it was entirely of metal and wires, a mindless drone used for menial tasks such as inventory handling or maintenance. It wore a human uniform for some reason which clashed with its blank reflective visor face.

“Why’s it standing here?” Galem asked as he nervously tapped the drone. The touch pushed it off the ground and the dead drone slowly lifted off the ground in the zero-g environment and floated back into the ship, bouncing off the back wall before continuing to silently float away.

“Maybe it’s here to greet us?” Melp chuckled as he activated his mag locks and his feet latched on to the metallic floor. Galem followed suit and the two began entering the derelict ship.

“Can’t be,” Galem began as they reached the airlock secondary doors and began slowly opening them, “these tin cans would run out of power in a day and it’s been years since this tussle went down.”

With several loud grunts as the two strained with the manual release the inner airlock to the human ship finally cracked open. The two entered slowly, not knowing what to expect, and took stock of their surroundings.

They entered a long hallway that seemed to stretch out far into the distance passed the reach of their head lamps. Melp could see side corridors scattered every few dozen feet no doubt leading to other sections of the ship, but likewise they too were pitch black.

Something about Melp’s comment made him pull out his data scroll and do a quick scan. The device beeped rapidly as the scan commenced before ending with a loud “DING” and displaying a waterfall of information.

Melp read the data as the two continued to hover by the airlock entrance.

“It says here that somethings still giving off a power signature here.” Melp commented as he ran he scan again to be sure.

“Give it here,” Galem said as he turned to Melp with his hand outstretched, “you must be reading it-“

When Galem didn’t finish his sentence Melp looked up and saw something akin to a mixture of fear and surprise on his face. He was staring at something over his shoulder so Melp slowly turned in place , his magnetic feet latching heavily to the decking with each step like two magnets smashing together.

When he finally turned around he let out a yelp of surprise and tried to jump back, but his magnetic feet kept him firmly locked to the floor leaving him in an almost comical off balance state.

Standing directly behind him was another of the drones, this one dressed in what appeared to be some sort of security uniform even including an empty weapon holster at his side.

Neither of the scavengers knew how the thing got there as it most certainly hadn’t been standing there a moment ago. Before either of them could respond the drone’s visor lit up and displayed a pixelated face. The visor was damaged with a deep crack running the length of it making the display flicker in and out on half the screen giving it an eerily ghost like visage.

“The captain,” the drone began as it stepped to one side of the hallway and extended a hand into the darkness, “requests your presence on the bridge.”

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story

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delimeful · 3 years

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my virtues uncounted (6)

warnings: panic attack, fear, arguing

there will probably be an epilogue after this, but we're nearing the end of this story! :)

Virgil floated into consciousness with surprisingly little pain, considering the last thing he remembered was bleeding out from a stab wound.

He wasn’t entirely sure how the others’ returned after discorporating-- they weren’t much in the habit of randomly sharing vulnerabilities-- but for him, it was always rushed, his reformation slapdash at best. It was probably part of being Anxiety: he couldn’t stand the idea of being ‘out of it’ for long, not when anything could be happening to Thomas with his influence muted.

So, he would come back to himself with whatever injury that killed him barely knitted back together, and grit his teeth and bear it for the next few weeks while it slowly healed. One of his recurring nightmares was the Light Sides finding out about it, using it to keep him out of commission to ‘help’ Thomas. It seemed… less likely, after meeting them.

Meeting them. Right. He’d done that.

A low thrum of panic in his gut chased the lingering sleepiness from him, and he pushed himself into a sitting position as quickly as he dared, figuring that he might as well test the boundaries of his lack of stab wound pain before he snuck over to check that the core parts of Thomas had all made it through okay. Or before he encountered Remus again.

The first thing he registered was that there wasn’t any pain, none at all.

The second thing was that everything was proportionally huge around him.

The third thing was that these absolutely were not the Dark Side commons.

His heart rate spiked immediately as he whipped his head around, staring at what could only be the Light Side common area. He’d only caught a glimpse of it before, with the whole ‘bleeding out’ thing, and it looked impossibly different from where he stood on the living room table. Now that he was paying attention, he could feel the way Thomas was so much closer here than in the Subconscious, like the difference between shallow water and the depths.

He shook himself. Now wasn’t the time to get caught up in how much easier core Sides had it. There were bigger things to worry about, literally. He hadn’t discorporated, he was in the Conscious part of the mind, and he was tiny-- through no doing of his own.

Oh. They wanted revenge.

Virgil kicked away the assortment of tiny blankets around him and got to his feet, blood rushing in his ears. He’d been an asshole to them while they were stuck in the Subconscious, so they were returning the favor. Why else would they have healed him and turned him pocket-sized? It was the only explanation that made sense.

The commons were just shy of completely disorienting while empty, so he certainly wasn’t going to stick around for something as overwhelming as a Side to appear. He hurried to the edge of the table, eyeing the drop with no little trepidation. Was he lighter like this, or would he land heavily on the carpet below and break half his bones?

He shouldn’t risk it. No point in doing half the work for his captors.

If he could get a running start to the other end of the table, he might be able to make the jump to the couch, though. From there… maybe pushing a pillow to the ground. Could he even move a pillow at this size?

Another shudder worked its way through him, something small and terrified in the back of his mind shrieking at the way everything around him had changed. Had this been how the others had felt? He shook his head, stepping back from the edge and turning to face the other end of the table. He couldn’t freak out yet. Not until he was safe.

There was a distant phone alarm, the generic sort that Thomas had come to resent after using it for his morning alarm for months on end. Virgil felt a chill of foreboding pass over him, and a heartbeat later, he heard the telltale woosh of one of the core Sides rising up next to the table.

Their shadow fell over Virgil, impossibly large, and he bolted.

There was a voice, but he couldn’t pick out the words past the blood rushing in his ears, his own breathing, and the panicked rush of thoughts that came with picking flight. He focused on the jump ahead instead, the length of table ahead of him growing shorter and shorter until he was nearly to the edge, muscles tensed to leap.

The light around him being blocked out was the only warning he got before his view of the world was suddenly cut off. Half a second later, his momentum was halted by a collision with something soft, warm, and alive. He recoiled as sharply as he could, but there were already what could only be fingers curling around him, his stomach dropping as he was lifted clear off the table’s surface, his center of gravity shifting against his will.

If he hadn’t been panicking before, he certainly was now, his breaths coming shallow and shaky, barely bringing in any air as black spots started to dot his vision.

He was in someone’s hand. They could do anything to him, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop it, would probably deserve it, but it would hurt and couldn’t they have just let him discorporate--

The low, calm voice that had been rumbling in the background paused for a moment, and then they were moving again, his nausea growing as everything moved too fast around him, like a car someone else was driving but a hundred times worse.

And then, abruptly, there was solid ground under his feet again. The hand opened around him.

Virgil dropped to his hands and knees immediately, pressing his forehead against the table to both quell his dizziness and find something to ground himself. He was hyperaware of the warmth emanating from the hand that still bracketed him on one side, like a shield or a threat.

The Side was still talking, though Virgil still couldn’t quite parse the words. Despite his incoherence, the hand didn’t even twitch, no underlying threat to whatever it was they were saying to him. His breathing settled a bit despite himself. The implied promise that they weren’t going to outright attack him shouldn’t have been so reassuring, but it was.

His head slightly clearer, he slowly pushed himself back up to sit back on his heels, looking up to see who had found him.

It was undoubtedly Logan, though he’d never seen those glasses and tie at such a warped scale before. He could have figured it out earlier, if he’d just been listening; neither Roman nor Patton tended to be so carefully enunciated with their words.

Logan’s words, right. He was counting, which confused Virgil for a moment-- was this an experiment? Something to see how long the local idiot spent caught up in a panic attack when he was supposed to be a survival instinct-- until he caught on to the way Logan’s chest rose and fell along with the numbers. A breathing exercise.

He was kind of surprised, in that pleasant ‘pessimist-proven-wrong’ sort of way, but it figured that the Sides up here would offer even their captive literal time to breathe. He let himself follow along with the pattern for a few more moments before clearing his throat roughly and forcing himself to speak.

“Hey.”

Logan paused, looking down at him. “Hello.”

There was a short, slightly awkward pause, in which Logan seemed to flounder while Virgil refused to apologize for being kidnapped and reduced to doll size, even if he’d just had a completely image-ruining breakdown over it.

“Are you alright?” Logan finally settled on, his gaze piercing as it swept over him as though searching for injuries. “I apologize for not warning you, but I needed to stop you from recklessly endangering yourself. I didn’t intend for my actions to trigger a panic attack.”

“Yeah, who would freak out over some little old thing like being picked up by a giant hand,” Virgil snapped back sharply, his sarcasm coming out a little less biting than usual after such a draining attack. “It’s not like I’m the embodiment of Anxiety or anything.”

“You are Anxiety, though.” Logan shifted, the motion jarring his hand slightly, and Virgil barely managed to contain his flinch. “And as such, I’m surprised that you would entertain the idea of unnecessarily trying to fling yourself off of a considerable height at your size.”

Virgil squinted at him, trying to figure out if he was serious. “Unnecessarily?”

“Clearly? I cannot imagine why your first solution would be to attempt something so risky, though it’s possible I’m missing some vital context,” Logan replied, his face scrunching up slightly in confusion. “Perhaps the others--,” he lifted a hand.

“Wait!” A surge of panic forced Virgil to his feet, but it was too late. The summons registered, and Creativity and Morality wasted virtually no time in rising up, both of them instantly looking to him instead of Logan.

“Anxiety!” they both cried, and they didn’t sound mad, but that didn’t really mean anything, did it?

They crowded forward, and Virgil couldn’t keep himself rigid this time, his whole body jerking back and bumping into Logan’s hand.The mixed signals-- hide versus get away-- left him frozen, cowering under that pitiful defense.

“Anxiety?” Patton tried, and the concern in his voice was enough to convince him to look up and meet the other Side’s gaze. “Are you okay, kiddo?”

“I’m stuck in a room with three giants, what do you think?” he spat automatically, his shoulders hunching up like they could protect him.

Patton’s mouth twisted in a sympathetic sort of way, and he moved to sit, scrunching his body down slightly so that he was more-or-less level with the table. “It’s all kind of overwhelming, huh?”

With a simple glance from the moral Side, Roman followed suit and Logan settled back on his heels, having already been kneeling. Virgil stared between the three of them, his skin prickling with nerves.

Behind him, Logan’s hand moved. Virgil immediately crouched, ducking his head down and lifting his arms in an ineffective attempt to ward off whatever was happening. There was a beat of silence, and when he glanced up, he found that Logan had simply retracted his hand, apparently convinced that Virgil wasn’t planning on a repeat of his escape attempt. Or that the three huge Sides surrounding Anxiety was enough of a cage in itself.

“We’re not going to hurt you, Jack and the Beanstalker,” Roman lied, doing an impressive job of sounding confused and harmless. “You’re not in the Subconscious anymore.”

A bitter laugh bubbled up in Virgil, one that he didn’t bother to stifle. “Yeah, right. I’m not an idiot, Princey. Remus got you all twisted up over what he did and I was an asshole and now you’re paying the favor forward, I get it. You don’t have to lie about it.”

The three of them exchanged complicated glances, ones that admittedly looked more upset and horrified than conspiring, but Virgil refused to buy the act.

“We’re not lying to you!” Roman insisted, making Virgil scoff. Patton’s face started to take on that kicked-puppy cast, and Virgil averted his gaze, feeling hot anger bubble up in him at Patton’s involvement. How was any of this right and moral?

“I live with Deceit, you’re not going to fool me. Just get whatever you’re going to do to me over with,” he forced out, grimacing when his voice wobbled slightly at the end.

“Anxiety.” Logan leaned forwards, meeting his gaze with utmost seriousness. “Perhaps it will help if you understand our motives for your current state. Can you tell me how much you remember from our escape?”

“Remus found us and turned me into a pincushion,” Virgil deadpanned, a hand moving to settle over his gut. He knew now that he probably hadn’t discorporated, but he could still barely believe that there was no pain there. Core Sides could just do that? “And then you three decided to turn me pincushion-sized, I guess. How is that not revenge?”

“It was to save your life!” Roman cried dramatically, looking very put-out. “And to keep you from going back to the Subconscious and my brother, y’know, the guy who was tormenting us for fun!”

“To save my-- we can’t die!” Virgil snarled, pushing his complex feelings about Remus down in favor of twisting the fabric of his hoodie in his hands. “You trapped me up here, no room, no powers, no height, and you expected me to be grateful?!”

“We weren’t trying to trap you,” Patton interjected, looking between him and Roman worriedly. “And we aren’t going to hurt you, I promise.”

Roman, who had drawn himself up in outraged offense, visibly deflated. “Patton’s right. You know he wouldn’t lie to you about something like this.”

Virgil hesitated despite himself.

“The problem of your current stature is one that we know how to fix,” Logan took the opportunity to add, fiddling with his tie. “Once you summon your room to this level of the mind, you will be able to find security and power within it, and we won’t bother you while you recover your lost energy.”

“Woah, woah,” Virgil held his hands up to stall further explanation, feeling thrown off. “Who said anything about putting my room up here?”

Roman raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “What, you want to be that size around a vengeful Remus?”

“I wouldn’t be this size if you hadn’t meddled!” Virgil snapped, scowling fiercely

“We weren’t going to just let you die,” Patton burst out, looking downright distraught. “You saved us. You didn’t want to rise up and you knew it would make your friends upset, but you did it anyhow. It wouldn’t be right, to just… not try to save you back!”

Virgil gaped for a moment, his next prepared retort completely upended. “No, I… that’s my job. Of course I did that. You don’t owe me for it.”

“Anxiety, Roman prevented your discorporation because he wanted to help you. Not to repay a perceived debt,” Logan informed him, his words stiff but genuine.

Roman shot Logan a look, heaving a dramatic sigh before turning back to Virgil. “All of us wanted to help, Gloomy B. Jones. Who wouldn’t choose to revive a party member who nearly perished heroically on a quest?”

In what universe was Roman calling him a hero? Inside his hoodie pocket, Virgil pinched himself, his confusion rising when everything refused to turn out to be a dream. Even a terrible plot twist like that would be more understandable to him than whatever was happening right now.

For that matter, they couldn’t really be implying what he thought they were implying.

“You really want me to pull my room up here. And be a… a core Side.”

Looking from face to face, he found no trace of anger or mockery, only earnestness. A genuine offer. He shook his head, his heart somehow racing even harder.

“What about when I have to do the other part of my job? The part you guys all hate me for?” he reminded them harshly. “I bet you won’t be so keen on my presence then.” He could easily imagine how well that would go over. Could a Side be cast out from both parts of the mind?

Patton shuffled forward a bit, his hands flapping like he wanted to reach out reassuringly but knew that Virgil would absolutely lose his shit if he even tried. “It’s like you said, kiddo. You want to keep Thomas safe, and we want that, too!”

“You’ve more than proven yourself willing to compromise when it counts,” Logan said, and then added wryly, “Statistically, the three of us already spend a fair amount of our time arguing before we come to a decision anyways.”

“Seriously?” Virgil asked, and Logan gestured to the necktie emphatically.

“That’s right! You may be as contrary as your jittery little heart desires, and you’ll still be in excellent company,” Roman piped up, gesturing to himself magnanimously. After a moment, he let the posturing fade into something more serious. “Anxiety, we don’t have to agree on everything for you to deserve better. Won’t you at least give us a chance?”

Virgil scrubbed his hands through his hair roughly, turning away despite his misgivings. Apart from that first incident with Logan, they hadn’t grabbed him, hadn’t even touched him despite knowing that he couldn’t do anything to stop them. At some point between that first disastrous meeting and now, they’d stopped treating him like an enemy.

He’d have to go back down there and explain at some point, but he couldn’t deny that the idea of not being repressed was one that seemed almost too good to be true. Deceit wouldn’t be happy, but maybe this would be the proof they all needed, that separating the Sides and hiding some of them from Thomas wasn’t working as well as they pretended it did.

It could be an opportunity. It could be… good.

“Alright,” he said, turning back to where they’d all been waiting, “I’ll pull my room up. I’ll-- I’ll try. That’s the best you’re going to get.”

And as the others cheered or smiled victoriously, he felt like maybe it was worth a shot after all.

#sanders sides #sanders sides g/t #sanders sides fic #ts virgil #ts logan #ts roman #ts patton #remus and janus are mentioned #g/t #mvu #my virtues uncounted #my writing #writing

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calaofnoldor · 3 years

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Sixth Time’s the Charm [4]

(GIF credit: @teamfreewill-imagine)

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 6,107

Series Summary: All the times Dean has tried to get Sam to admit his feelings for you. (Each chapter can be read as a stand-alone.)

Chapter Summary: You offer yourself as bait for a shapeshifter hunt. Things do not go as planned.

Warnings: canon level violence, language, idiots in love, mutual pining, huffy!sam, protective!sam, slight angst?, slow burn, fluff

A/N: i am SO sorry for the wait (story of my life) but to make up for it, look, 6k words! (yeah i’m sorry about that too, i don’t know what happened there.) written for @tvdspngirl314‘s birthday writing event with the prompt “You ever feel like that? Like you were just destined for someone?” which is bolded in the fic. this also fills a square for @spnfluffbingo!

Square Filled: Rescue Mission

← BACK UP | MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

The fourth time was all you. Dean barely had to lift a finger. The result, however, was far more traumatic than he had planned and rather emphatically revealed the magnitude of his brother’s feelings toward you.

Much like the previous attempts, there was a case: a shapeshifter going after women who conveniently happened to fit your description. The strategy was obvious, and you’d leaped at the opportunity to both make yourself useful and hopefully take the place of what would have otherwise been the next innocent civilian victim. But of course, Sam resisted at first.

“No. Absolutely not! We don’t know enough about this guy for you to just jump into his waiting arms, Y/N!” The fervent indignation in his tone and body language was palpable. Sam was rarely one to raise his voice or sport much of a temper at all really, but lately these heated outbursts seemed to be occurring more frequently, and frankly you were getting sick of it. The false hope they momentarily granted you through the notion that perhaps he cared about you as more than a friend was one thing. What’s more, the way his voice lowered half an octave combined with the sight of his flared nostrils, puffed chest, and straining jaw always seemed to have a sideways effect on you, in that it was impossible to keep your attention on his words alone. But boy did you try.

“Sam, how many times do we have to go through this? I’m a big girl; I can take care of myself. And your wrist is still healing so it’s not like you can call the shots on this one anyway. Besides, I’m not going in alone. You and Dean will be there for backup the whole time, right?”

“’Course we will, eh Sammy?” In a strange turn of events, Dean often appeared to be the one with a more jovial outlook recently.

Sam merely nodded and continued his heavy breathing. He glared down at his bandaged left wrist, the result of skirmish with a couple of wraiths, as if it were the root of all his problems. Then he looked up and through densely drawn brows, those magnetizing multicolored eyes pierced yours, his countenance bearing a charged and sullen expression of pensive exasperation as his jaw visibly tightened. You swallowed and could not for the life of you find the will to look away.

“So it’s settled then,” Dean proclaimed jubilantly, “Unless… you’ve got another reason you don’t want Y/N playing bait, hmm Sam? Maybe something you wanna share with the class? Or, you know, I could leave…”

“Dean, stop it. You’re not helping,” you quickly admonished before steadying your gaze back on the taller Winchester, “Look, Sam, have I ever let you down?”

“No. Never.”

“And do you still trust me?”

“Of course,” he responded immediately in a ‘what-kind-of-a-question-is-that’ tone, at which you simply raised your eyebrow to send him a reciprocating ‘then-what’s-the-problem?’ look.

“OK fine,” Sam huffed out a big breath, “But you’re not taking any risks! Anything seems off at all, just… promise me you’ll wait for me and Dean and keep us in the loop?”

His pleading eyes were so earnest and you’d truly never been able to say no to the giant puppy before, so you offered him a little smile and said, “Cross my heart.”

Sighing, Sam rubbed his face, looking lost in thought for a moment until he spoke up again, much more reserved and hesitant this time, “Do you still have that uh… ring from… that time?” Dean muffled a snort at his brother’s expense but you both ignored him, completely accustomed to his nonsensical teasing by now.

“Uh yeah, I- I think so.” The uncertainty in your voice was a lie. Of course you still had the ring you’d once used to pretend to be married to Sam Winchester. You may or may not have tucked it away in a special place for safekeeping.

“Good,” Sam nodded curtly, “I want you to wear it. It’s silver. I’ll wear mine too and Dean already has his. That’s how we’ll know that we’re still… ourselves.”

“OK, yeah that’s a good idea,” you agreed, trying your hardest not to linger on the memories.

“Well look at you two! Getting hitched again so soon-“

“Shut up, Dean,” you and Sam cut him off together.

When the meeting was adjourned and you were about to part ways to prepare for the upcoming hunt, something inside you forced you to call out his name, “Oh and Sam!” He turned around at once, questioning gaze somewhat urgently searching yours for a sign of what might come next. You stuttered though, feeling suddenly self conscious, so the next words you uttered were not much louder than a whisper, “Be careful with your wrist.”

Sam smiled, his dimples making your fingers twitch with the need to caress them. “I’ll be fine. You just look out for yourself. Remember, we’ll be right behind you.”

Somehow you both didn’t hear the groan Dean emitted as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling and prayed to whoever was listening, ‘Good lord, someone give me the strength to survive another day with these imbeciles.’

There was only one diner in the tiny Pennsylvanian town, and seeing as you were starving by the time you got there, the three of you were forced to make do with soggy fries and questionable milkshakes. As you ate, you went through your game plan once more, which essentially consisted of waiting until nightfall to visit the bar from where the previous girls had gone missing, while Sam and Dean shadowed you covertly.

Before you left, you took a quick trip to the loo and when you returned, Sam was stood outside alone, a broad smile upon his face.

“Where’s Dean?” you asked as you began to walk out the diner, expecting to find the older brother waiting impatiently in the parking lot by his precious car, but the Impala was gone.

“He went back to the motel, said he had something to take care of and that we should go scope the place out first.”

“But I thought we agreed to-“

“Yeah, well change of plans, you know how it is,” Sam replied casually with a shrug.

Little red flags started fluttering in your head, urging your eyes downward to locate the silver band on his finger. You frowned when you found it there untouched on his right hand; Sam almost never interrupted you, not even when he was absorbed in the foulest of moods.

Apparently sensing your hesitation, he added, “I mean, he made a good point. Maybe if you familiarize yourself with the surroundings first, you’ll be able to take the guy out faster.”

Sam was still smiling at you, but it felt all wrong. You couldn’t explain it, but there was something missing from his rainbow eyes. The colors were all there, but they lacked luster and warmth, a delicate twinkle that you’d learned to associate with the beautiful, heroic yet self-doubting giant of a man. Never had you seen that breathtaking magic replicated elsewhere, nor had you ever seen Sam without it, which was why you were almost completely certain that the man before you was not the real Sam Winchester.

But weaving within you was a thread of doubt, insisting that you couldn’t just pull a gun on your best friend because of something as trivial as… a feeling? No, you needed to test your theory. And so, bracing yourself with a deep breath, you slowly reached out your silver-equipped hand to do something you’d grown accustomed to resentfully abstaining from: touching Sam’s bare skin. You aimed for the large target of his hand, deeming it the most inconspicuous of places (given that he was wearing his hunters’ uniform and the only other visible option would’ve been his face or neck), but Sam was faster. Just before you were able to graze his skin with your ring, he caught your wrist in his much bigger hand and pulled it away, twisting your arm until it was locked painfully behind you.

“You think you’re smart, huh?” the shifter snarled with a flash of its eyes, moving in real close as he used Sam’s immense size and his own superhuman strength to easily constrain you.

Even so, you stared up at him defiantly, unafraid, “Sam and Dean will be back.”

“That’s the plan.”

Sam’s sneering face and threatening voice were the last things you saw or heard.

You had no way of determining how much time had passed when you unceremoniously came to in what looked and smelled to be an underground sewer. As your senses sharpened and your muddled brain began to size up your current plight, you nearly scoffed at the clichéd style of your captor. Sat on a peeling wooden chair, manila rope bound your wrists together behind your back and tethered your ankles securely to each of the seat’s front legs.

Ignoring the ache in your head, you set about strategically testing the knots and the integrity of the wood. If only you could reach the silver blade in your boot. But your attempts were interrupted by the reappearance of the shifter, whose shoe hit something as he stepped before you. A metallic clang echoed through the confined space as a result and you followed the sound to find your coveted knife on the ground, far beyond your reach.

“Fucking hunters, always think they’re so clever, always one step ahead because it’s their game. Sure, we might be the monsters but you’re the predators! So let’s see how you like being the prey for once.” Shifter Sam’s upper lip curled up in a way that seemed so foreign to you as he leaned forward to rest his hands on either arm of your chair, caging you in.

The malicious glint in his eye left you with no qualms about affronting this being who, for all intents and purposes, appeared identical to the man you’d recently discovered you were in love with. Lifting your chin, you glared up at him brazenly, “If you’re so keen on being the predator then why am I still alive? What are you waiting for?”

“Why your knight in shining armor of course!” he exclaimed, backing up as he stood to his full height and gestured to himself with both hands. “You think it was a coincidence that all those women looked like you?”

The shifter’s narrowed eyes were alight with amusement and a ripple of fear surged through your body. You were in much deeper than you or the boys had anticipated, though years of practice helped you keep your voice steady and bold, “What did you do to them?”

“Oh, I gave them a fairly painless death, don’t you worry. They were just stepping stones on my way to you. See, the Winchesters owe me a girlfriend, so I figured I’d take the closest thing to theirs. But imagine my joyous surprise when I got into this big lug’s head and discovered that he’s in love with you! No, actually it’s more than that. He’s obsessed with you; you never leave his brain! Every other thought and memory is about you... Well, it’s either you or his brother, but oh, it’s gonna kill him to see you die before his eyes. I might’ve been able to replace my dead girlfriend, but I don’t think Sam here will ever come back from losing you.”

Stunned into silence, the stupid influx of misguided hormones pumping through your veins forced you to focus on maintaining a neutral expression as he rattled on.

“And you feel the same way, don’t you? So this really will be a double kill. It’s OK, you can let it all out. I might be a monster but I’m not one to deny the dying their chance for some last words. Besides, you can say it all while looking into the eyes of the man you love.”

“Fuck you,” were the only words you could trust yourself to spit out at him.

‘Sam’ laughed, but it was nothing like the laughs you normally pulled from him. It didn’t radiate like sunshine or replenish your soul with glee. Rather, it was chilling and conniving and despite the mimicry of Sam’s beautiful voice, you immediately decided that you never wanted to hear it again.

“Not feeling too talkative, huh? Or maybe you’d rather wait until he gets here in the flesh to make that anticlimactic confession of love? That’s alright, I can just tell you more about this dumbass’s feelings for you.” The shifter chuckled with delight, as if every word brought him nothing but pure joy. “Man, he loves you so much, it’s insane. I’ve never been inside the skin of someone so in love. And I thought I really loved my ex. Afterall, this whole revenge thing is for her. But I gotta tell ya, I’ve got nothing on Sam Winchester. Did you know he thinks you were made specifically for him? You ever feel like that? Like you were just destined for someone? Cause Sam does. That’s how he feels about you.”

“Why should I believe you?” you challenged, growing tired of the inadvertent response his words were eliciting. Your heart was pounding in your neck, core trembling at the mere possibility of Sam genuinely feeling the way he’d described. But you knew better than to trust a monster, and one who was in pursuit of maximal vengeance no less. Still, those rose-colored thoughts resonated within you, and you stumbled to dismiss them as they bubbled up, one after another like a game of emotional whack-a-mole.

Shifter Sam smirked, “Yeah, you’re a cynical one, aren’t you? You know everything he said in that marriage counseling session was true. You kinda hurt his feelings when you just brushed it all off. Even big brother Dean’s been trying to get him to confess his love for you. You must’ve heard them arguing about it at some point? They weren’t exactly being discreet.”

Choosing not to respond, you simply scowled at him.

“No? Still in denial? Perhaps you need details… You ever notice how he always sits across from you whenever you’re doing research? It’s because he thinks you’re gorgeous when you’re focused, and it gives him an opportunity to admire you without getting caught. And why do you think he lets you call him Sammy, huh? Yeah, he might not let it on but he fucking loves it when you do, makes him feel all tingly inside. And you remember that cop who hit on you? Captain Anderson, was it? Sam wanted to break the guy’s nose just for touching you. Oh and why do you think he asked you to move into the bedroom closest to his? It’s so he can keep track of your nightmares. He likes to keep you close because it makes him feel like he can protect you better when you need it.”

By now, your ‘neutral expression’ must have surely mutated to betray your shock, and you couldn’t have answered if you tried. The shifter didn’t seem to mind either way. In fact, he appeared to be having the time of his life.

“And it’s not all pure thoughts, let me tell you! Oh man, buddy boy here has dreamed up plenty of X-rated scenes with you, ranging from obnoxiously romantic to just plain obscene. You name a position and he’s imagined it, in high-definition detail,” he embellished, tapping an index finger against his temple, “His mind is like a library of pornos starring the two of you, although he’ll never get to live out any of his fantasies, will he? It’s a shame really; some of these are really hot... Ooh, I’ll have to borrow that one,” he said with closed eyes, as if a figment of Sam’s imagination was playing through his head in that very moment, “Maybe my girl and I can re-enact it while we’re still in your skins-”

“Shut up, just shut up!” you finally bellowed in protest.

Sam watched the bathroom door attentively after you’d disappeared through it, unable to contain the upward jerk of his lips when he saw you walking back out of it. Heartwarming relief had become his body’s intrinsic response to seeing you safe and sound.

“You ready?” he questioned when you made it to his side.

“Yeah, I’m good.” God, even the sound of your voice made him happy.

Once you got back to the motel, Dean plopped down onto one of the full-size beds, exhausted from the drive. Within a matter of seconds, snores began to fill the room, and Sam chuckled under his breath as he sat down around a wobbly table with you to continue your research on the shifter’s victims, hoping to find something else that linked them together or a clue as to where they might’ve been taken.

It wasn’t long before you inhaled a revelatory gasp and abruptly clutched Sam’s wrist to show him what you’d found. But your grip was harsh, causing him to hiss in pain and do something he’d never before done: recoil from your touch.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does it still hurt?” you asked nonchalantly, smiling up at him innocently.

Worse than the pain in his fractured wrist was what felt like sirens blaring in his head. You were always hyper-cognizant of his injuries and exceedingly careful around them, sometimes even more so than himself. Sam looked you over subtly, eyes landing on the silver ring still upon your finger. Perhaps his mind had been playing tricks on him and all that tender attention he thought you’d shown him was simply a mirage of his own wishful thinking?

“It’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting it.” Sam sent you a tight smile, to which you responded with a dazzling one of your own. It was beautiful but something about it felt off. In the past, you apologized profusely if ever you found yourself the accidental cause of his discomfort, no matter how indirect or insignificant the case, but right now there wasn’t a single speck of concern in your eyes. Indeed, the more he looked into them, the more he struggled to recognize the person staring back at him.

In a flash, Sam had you up against the wall, a silver blade held against your neck. He looked down to see the metal sizzling there, burning your flesh, and cursed himself for failing to notice sooner.

The noise woke Dean from his slumber and what he saw when he opened his eyes was equal parts shocking and amusing. “Whoa! At least wait till I’m out of the room! And isn’t that a little kinky for your first time?”

“Dean, it’s not her. She’s not Y/N,” Sam grit out, “She’s wearing the ring but she’s not Y/N.”

His brother’s brows knit together as he rubbed the sleep from his emerald greens. “Wha- How did you know?”

“She was acting… weird.”

Dean scrambled off the bed, making a quick call on his phone to ensure you really were missing. He paled when a robotic voice over the line told him the number he was trying to reach was no longer in service.

It was then the shifter decided to speak up, “You know, the real Y/N would have liked this, you pressing her up against a wall?” she murmured suggestively.

“Shut up. Where is she?!” Sam slammed her body against the flimsy motel wall once more and dug the knife in a little deeper. In his panic-stricken state, he barely registered her remark, being driven entirely by a one-track mind at present.

Shifter Y/N grimaced slightly, glancing down at the knife, “Maybe if you stop cutting into me with that, I might consider telling you.”

“How did you get the ring?”

“Oh, this little thing? You like it? It’s imitation silver, but otherwise nearly identical to the one on the real Y/N’s finger. You see, we’ve been following you for a while now.”

“Who’s we? Where did you take Y/N?!” he demanded incessantly.

“My boyfriend’s got her, but don’t worry, he looks just like you so I’m sure she’ll find her accommodations to her liking,” she retorted with a smirk.

Sam’s heart lunged in his chest and his mind began whirring with endless possibilities of escalating dread. Had you been deceived and captured by a shifter pretending to be him? Were you being hurt or tortured by someone who looked exactly like him? How would you ever be able to look at him the same way again? Of course, you’d know it wasn’t Sam but the damage would still be done. You would forever remember his face as that of someone who once hurt you, who tried to kill you. That is, if Sam could make it to you in time.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to see her one last time. That’s actually why I’m here, to take you to her when the time is right,” the shifter added casually.

“I will end your miserable fucking life! Tell me where she is right now!” Sam roared before pressing the blade further into her neck, the veins in his forearms ready to burst through his skin.

“Hey, hey! Sammy, ease up! We need her alive, alright?” Dean bounded over to his brother and after quite the struggle, managed to assuage him enough to release his vice grip and replace it with silver chains that shackled her to a chair.

“Sam, maybe we should also be asking ‘why’,” Dean mused as he fastened the end of a chain against one of the beds.

With a shake of his head, Sam avowed through grinding teeth, “I don’t fucking care. I have to get to her.”

“And what if it’s a trap?”

“Then I’ll find her myself.”

Dean scoffed in disbelief as he turned to his usually wise and level-headed little brother, “Oh yeah, and how’re you gonna do that? Where would you even start?”

“I don’t know!” Sam exclaimed in exasperation. Then, after a pause of desperate deliberation alleged, “Shifters like to make their lairs in sewers, right?”

Taking a step closer, Dean maintained his challenging tone, “So what are you gonna do, just wade through the entire town’s shit and piss until you find her?!”

“If that's what it takes, then yes!” Sam looked like he was about to eat his brother alive.

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” shifter Y/N interfered from her seated position before them, raising her chin to meet Sam’s eyes, “Don’t worry, handsome, I can tell you she feels the same way. But unfortunately, by the time you get to her, I don’t think she’ll be able to tell you herself. In fact, you’ll probably hardly recognize her anymore… so you might want to keep me around, if only as a souvenir of your soon-to-be-dead girlfriend.”

Sam couldn’t contain himself anymore. Despite looking like a carbon copy of you, the evil gleam in the shifter’s eyes made her easily differentiable, and so Sam held back nothing when he lunged across the distance, knife in hand ready to do some real damage. However, Dean pounced with him, having predicted his brother’s violent eruption and felt his shaking wrath, knowing a little too well just how rash he could be when it came to you. Still, it took all of Dean’s strength to pull Sam back, sending him a stern but knowing look once he did.

“Sam, stop!” His low voice rumbled as he went into authoritative big brother mode, “Listen to me, you wanna save Y/N? Well so do I, but this is not how we do it! Now I know it’s hard, but I need you to calm down, alright?”

Sam’s massive chest was practically at his chin as he heaved ginormous breaths. Though his body language was still offensive, his hazel eyes were filled with fear and devastation when they looked toward his brother, “Dean, if I don't get to her in time, I’ll...” Clenching his jaw, Sam made a fruitless attempt to calm his tremoring frame and quell his tumultuous emotions. What would he do? Sam wasn’t even sure himself. All he knew was that every cell in his being was currently screaming at him to get to you, to make sure you were safe and soothe away any of your pain. There was nothing he wouldn’t give in that moment to simply know you were alright and to hold you in his arms. He knew you could look after yourself, but for once he had a terrifying feeling that even you were in over your head, that you might actually need him this time, and he’d be fucking damned if he let you down.

“Woah! Hey, hey! Sammy, look at me! That ain’t gonna happen, alright? We’re gonna find Y/N and we’re gonna bring her home in one piece, you hear me? We’re the Winchesters, man! We’ve faced the end of the world. What’s a couple of shifters got on us?”

‘You,’ Sam thought, ‘They’ve got you.’ But he appreciated Dean’s pep talk nonetheless and nodded in response as a fresh surge of determination swelled within him.

“Alright then,” Dean nodded as well, “Why don’t you let me give her a go?”

As Dean’s silver blade cut into the detained shapeshifter, Sam flinched with every moan and howl of agony. He knew it wasn’t you, but she still had your voice and your perfect face. Yet not a second was wasted on the feeling of relief when they finally managed to get a location out of her. Sam nearly tripped over himself in his haste as he snatched the Impala’s keys and his gun before flying out of the room with a jumbled order for Dean to stay with the monster.

“Well, if you’re not gonna admit your feelings for the giant lumberjack, I guess you’re right. Maybe I should stop yapping and get to prettying you up for that first and last date of yours, huh?” Shifter Sam prodded your cheek with a switchblade.

You said nothing. At this point, you had a sneaking suspicion that physical pain might be more bearable than the psychological torment your imprisoner had been so keen on. It was one thing for you to torture yourself by entertaining the slim possibility that Sam might return your feelings for him, but to hear such outrageous perceptions from a creature who could read the inside of his mind like a paperback novel, and conveyed with such tantalizing conviction… well, it just about broke you.

And knowing that the shifter was yearning to coax a confession out of you simply to cause Sam as much anguish as possible made you more resolute about your refusal to submit, beyond the need to protect your own sanity.

One shiner and a slash to the thigh later, however, you heard a loud clash. Shifter Sam paused his handiwork and began to turn around, “Could your knight be here ahead of schedule?”

‘Dammit,’ you thought. The Winchesters were usually capable of being stealthy when necessary but in case it really was the sound of them making a blunder or encountering some other form of resistance, you figured you’d buy them a distraction.

“Wait, wait! You’re right, OK? Maybe I do feel something for Sam, but even if I told him, I think you’re forgetting… This is Sam fucking Winchester we’re talking about here. He’s been tortured by the devil himself. You really think killing me is going do much damage?”

Your abductor had now given you his full attention, leering at you with a sly smile, so you continued, “Besides, you picked a fight with the Winchesters; don't expect to live to see tomorrow.”

Right on cue, a hulking blur of hair and plaid came barreling in, growling ferally as he grabbed the shifter and threw more than one brutal punch against what appeared to be his own face. The silver ring on Sam’s hand made contact with skin and his shifter counterpart groaned in pain.

You nearly forgot about your ceaseless work of untying the rope that cuffed your wrists together as your looked on in shock. Why Sam hadn’t just shot him with a silver bullet was beyond you. He was smarter than this. There was no need to drag out a monster’s death if a more efficient option existed. But as he continued to engage his clone in hand-to-hand combat, it appeared almost as if he was venting his frustrations on the shifter, as if he drank up every ounce of hurt he was able to inflict. But his high only lasted so long and shifter Sam soon regained his balance, making use of his supernatural invulnerability and superior strength.

“Sam!” you screamed as the shifter threw him across the room.

He tumbled up just in time as the shifter meandered over, “So nice of you to join us, Sam. You know, Y/N here was just telling me about-“

Sam didn’t wait for him to finish, choosing instead to tackle him to the floor with a loud grunt. While they wrestled on the ground, you worked furiously at the knots behind you, wincing with every hit Sam took though it was becoming hard to tell them apart.

When Sam finally drew his gun, the shifter was able to divert its barrel and a shot rang out futilely. Catching a subsequent elbow to the ribs had Sam falling to his knees and you watched in horror as shifter Sam once again gained the upper hand, sending the gun flying out of Sam’s grasp. The binding around your wrists was just about undone when Sam seized a stray rusty pipe and swung it against his counterfeit. Shifter Sam was incapacitated for a brief instant but quickly returned to form with some vicious hooks and a couple of well-placed knees.

With your hands finally free of their restraints, you staggered over to the gun, the chair still attached at your ankles. As you took aim, you shouted, “Sam, get down!” before you shot his mirror image through the heart.

Sighing, you slumped to your hands and knees whilst the real Sam sat up with his back against a wall, gaping at you with a look of awe. Yet before he even caught his breath, he was up and gliding toward you, cradling his left wrist at an awkward angle.

“Sam, your wrist!”

“It’s fine, are you OK?” he swiftly dismissed your concern, cupping your face with his good hand as he examined the darkening bruise around your eye.

You ignored the palpitations in your chest and placed a hand upon his wrist, “Yeah, I’m fine. He wasted more time playing mind games than anything. You know villains and their monologues,” you joked, trying to ease his tension and the deluded self-imposed guilt you knew he must’ve been brewing in.

As if to prove your point, Sam lamented, “God, I’m so sorry. I should have known. I should have gotten here sooner.”

“What? No! They were miles ahead of us, Sam. The whole thing was a set up; this was their hunt. How could you have known?”

Rather than replying, he released a breath and busied himself trying to help you out of your binding.

Back at the motel, after icing your eye and stitching up your thigh, you insisted on re-wrapping Sam’s wrist while Dean took care of shifter Y/N’s remains. But when the older Winchester returned and spied you and his brother sitting together on a bed through a crack in the door, he couldn’t resist the chance to exercise his espionage skills.

“How did you know she wasn’t me anyway?” you asked as you gently wound the ace bandage around Sam’s swollen forearm.

“I just…” He looked down at your nimble fingers upon his skin and smiled unwittingly at their tender touch, “had a feeling.”

Sam’s sunflower gaze locked onto yours for a frozen instant and something about his soft expression made you forget what words were, until he cleared his throat, “Did you um- did you know he wasn’t me?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, smiling for some strange reason. Perhaps you were just glad to see his trademark twinkle return to those otherworldly eyes. “Pretty soon after actually. I… had a feeling too.”

Sam’s dimples made every ache in your body disappear as that twinkle glistened in full force, “And how’d you know which one to shoot?”

Well, that dampened your mood and brought you back to the task at hand, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you kept grimacing every time you used your left wrist?” Although your words had a bitter force behind them, the pressure beneath your fingertips never increased and Sam had almost completely forgotten about his pain.

You, on the other hand, were reminded of your struggle to reconcile with what had happened since his question prompted a restored and growing frustration.

It had been bugging you the whole time and you felt compelled to confront him about it because storming in alone with a bad wrist, ready to throw hands with an out-of-his-league monster was really not Sam’s style. Something must’ve gotten into him and with everything the shifter had told you, you couldn’t help but wonder. Nevertheless, you were a little afraid of how he might answer, so Dean had to lean in closer to hear your next words.

“Why didn’t you just shoot him?”

“W-what do you mean?” Sam stammered out after a pause.

“Sam, you have a broken wrist, but instead of sending Dean or using your gun from the get-go, you came in like a madman and went after him with your fists!” Your voice was full of incredulity though it also carried an undertone of anger.

As Sam picked up on that reproachful tone, you could almost feel the telltale signs of his puppy dog eyes coming on. “He used my face to deceive you, to hurt you. They manipulated us. I had to- ...I mean, he killed those women just to get us here. He had it coming!”

Your hopes plummeted. Of course, Sam was ever the righteous man. Why would you assume his brashness had been purely born out of a need to avenge you? Though regardless of his reason, you were still upset about his self-destructing behavior, “Yeah, but you had to have realized you were in no position to be the one to give it to him, right? I mean, you might’ve looked the same but he was juiced up on monster superpowers, Sam… which meant he was stronger and faster, not to mention uninjured, in his own territory, and apparently the only one with a sound plan.”

A breath of laughter left Sam’s lips though there was no smile on his face. Here he’d been on a mission to save you, but you were the one who’d ended up saving him, again. You must’ve thought he was comically stupid and pathetically useless. How could he possibly think he was worthy of you? “I guess I should thank you for saving my ass again, huh?”

“What?! No! That’s not what I mean. Sam, you’re the one who saved me! And I’m beyond grateful for it, really I am. I just wish you didn’t hurt yourself more in the process.” You finally finished up with his wrist wrap, securing the final ends with a clip, and letting your hands linger on his for longer than necessary, momentarily distracted by the disparity of size between them. Sam didn’t appear uncomfortable though, as his fingers twitched closer to yours and he made no move to pull away.

He couldn’t help but smile again when he noticed the sincere concern in your eyes that was previously absent in the shifter’s. “Yeah well, what was it you once said to me? ‘Your ass will always be worth it’?”

“And if I remember correctly, you once told me you don’t do things on hunts that make your injuries worse,” you quoted him back with an arched brow.

“Yeah well, I guess this is payback. Now you know how I felt.” A playful grin made his dimples deepen and you clenched your jaw to refrain from gushing over the ridiculous cuteness of this ‘giant lumberjack’.

“You’re an idiot.”

“As long as you’re OK,” Sam answered assuredly, and you nearly melted when his free hand caressed your cheek for the second time that day, big thumb tracing a feather-light path below the purpled skin.

‘You’re both fucking idiots,’ Dean groaned internally from the other side of the door. He knew he had no choice but to up his game.

thanks so much for reading! feedback is greatly appreciated!

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asmo-ds · 3 years

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i have another one! so the mc is really into fantasy fiction with demons and angels, gore, horror and spooky things in general and when they arrive instead of being scared they're like finally i'm in my element and are having fun and are excited because they hate how boring the human realm is. how would the bros (and the side characters if you feel like doing them) react to them? i love your headcanons so much btw!!

w/ Horror Fantasy Lover! MC

Warnings: mentions of spooky scary stuffs, CHAPTER 16 SPOILERS

Summary: How the Obey Me! Characters react to finding out MC has a particular interest in horror fantasy and feels more comfortable in the Devildom then they do in the human world aka where they aren’t surrounded by apex predators that want to eat their soul

- After explaining the entire situation to the clueless human who stood in the student council room he could see a sort of sparkle in their eye and they smiled widely before shouting “FINALLY! MY TIME HAS COME HAHAH!”

- His first thought is “oh they won’t last a day”.

- He gets a headache when he realizes he put them with Mammon of all people.

- He is glad that MC has an interest in such things seeing as they will be living among the strongest demons for the next year

- I feel like Lucifer loves horror fantasy novels, so if he and MC have read any similar ones they are sure to discuss and recommend to each other

- Lucifer enjoy when they come in to talk to him about things they saw that they had hear about before arriving at the Devildom because its cute to see the human so excited

- Overall finds it adorable how enthusiastic MC is about the subject

- But is also worried because they feel so comfortable around demons who can and will eat them

- BUT also glad you aren’t afraid of the demons because they can smell fear and it is overwhelming and easy to lose control when they smell it

- When MC wants to see his natural form ( bc I just know hey don’t stop at those half-human half-demon forms Solmare shows us) he worries he may scare them off, but shows them regardless and is relieved when their excited smile doesn’t falter

- When he is first showing MC around the Devildom he considers just thowing the human over his shoulder because they wont stop running towards dangerous stuff to observe it

- Like oh my Diavolo, does this human have a death wish why would they WANT to drink the potions that can and will kill them in a matter of seconds

- If his hair wasn’t already white he’d be getting white hairs from stress, like WHAT KIND OF EXCUSE IS “I’ve never drank a potion but I’ve always heard about them”?! PLEASE GIVE HIM A BREAK

- Mammon isn’t big on horror stuff so he hates when MC brings it up

- If he sees horror fantasy related stuff for sale or being bet in a gamble you can bet your ass he’s bringing it home for MC no matter what

- Sometimes when they walk around the Devildom, MC will point out creatures they’d only heard of in their stories and he loves the way their eyes light up as everything they’d read about for so long came to life

- Tolerates the subject to make MC happy, even if he can’t sleep at night because of it.

- A bit worried about the fact he has to babysit the human who is way too casual around violent predators that want to eat them

- If MC asks to see his natural form he gets flustered for a second, but then gets cocky and goes off about how “oF cOuRsE tHe HuMaN WaNtS tO sEe ThE GREAT MaMmOn iN aLL HiS GloRy”

- When MC walks into the House of Lamentation with Mammon and he introduces himself as Leviathan... their eyes light up

- They question him about all sorts of things they’d heard in old stories and if he could really turn into a giant sea monster

- After a while of knowing MC he finally promises that when they go to the beach next he will show them his natural form

- He summons Lotan when he’s mad at Mammon and when he turns to Lotan to command him to attack the avatar of greed he sees Lotan is preoccupied with the human who was giving him belly rubs and talking to the giant sea monster in a baby voice

- He like horror fantasy animes so he is 100% willing to discuss them with MC

- Whenever a new horror fantasy game or show comes out you won’t see MC and Levi for days because they’ll be holed up in his room on a mission to complete the anime or game

- He and MC like to cosplay as horror fantasy characters together as well just for fun

- Whenever he sees them look at a creature that may be normal around the Devildom but is very dangerous to interact with as a human he is immediately noping the heck out of there, dragging them away despite their cries of wanting to see the “little cute fluffy animal :(”

- When they show up and their eyes light up at the explanation that they’d been summoned to hell, he can’t help but laugh because he already knows this human is gonna be a trouble maker and cause a lot of problems for his dad Lucifer :^)

- One of his favorite genres of movies and books by far

- Loves to watch MC grow curious and fascinated by all the things in the Devildom that they never thought would be real

- He takes MC to see creatures at the Devildom zoo that you would NEVER see in the human world

- He could spend hours talking about the topic with MC and sometimes one of the brothers will walk in on them talking about scary fantasy stuff and just slowly back out bc they get SO INTO IT

- Is glad to help them learn more about creatures that reside in the Devildom

- By that I mean he hovers behind MC menacingly in demon form whenever a demon agrees to let the human examine and study them

- If MC wants to see his completely natural form he gets a bit blushy and a bit nervous as his form is the embodiment of wrath and meant to strike fear within humans

- After he finally transforms and they start to examine him enthusiastically without a shred of fear he thinks to himself “oh that’s right this is MC, my idiot human = who could crawl inside a demons mouth and still be unsettlingly happy”

- Nope nope nope

- He doesn’t like scary stuff unless he’s allowed to cling onto a cute person for comfort

- Really likes the look of excitement in MC’s eyes though as they see creatures they never thought they’d get to see because they get a sort of glimmer that just makes him go so soft for the human

- Glad they feel comfortable around demons because it means they will be more willing to come clubbing with him

- But is still sure to hover around them while they enthusiastically examine and question demons around them

- Makes flirty comments about wanting MC to examine his natural assets (aka his naked demon dick is what he wants to show them)

- In all seriousness he is very proud of his natural form and is very willing to let MC study him

- Still worried that MC is gonna get hurt by one of his brothers or another demon if MC asks to see their natural forms because he knows how easy it is to go feral and lose all reason in such forms

- He finds it cute how interested MC is in everything around the Devildom

- Very concerned about the easy going attitude around his brothers and every single being in the Devildom

- MC sometimes comes very close to eating foods that will make a human sick because they want to understand demons better and want to live just like one

- Sometimes forgets MC is only human because they just fit in so well with all the demons

- Shocked to learn how boring the human world has become as he always remembered it being exciting whenever Mammon would bring him, Belphie and Lilith down

- He’s a bit shy about his demon form because he knows a lot of humans are afraid of bugs

- But when MC so delicately yet enthusiastically examines his natural form he almost cries

- So soft for this human but so SO worried

- tries to warn them to be more cautious outside of the House of Lamentation, but knows that they aren’t gonna be because they get carried away with learning demon life

- When MC first came through the attic wall and was able to see him they made eye contact and were both like o.O

- Then MC’s face lit up as they started to talk about how cool magic was that it could hide a whole entire person and floor of a house and he is just confused, but he knows he can easily manipulate them due to their enthusiasm towards this type of stuff

- Was shocked they weren’t even afraid of Lucifer and were actually excited to see his demon form up close if they got caught

- While he is still covered in their blood and stuff after getting out and stuff the future MC comes downstairs and is just like OMG YOU KILLED ME SO EASILY

- MC gets dangerously close to him again asking questions about his claws and tail and powers etc.

- After that whole ~ordeal~ he grows protective over MC seeing how they trusted him so easily due to their enthusiasm because he knows there are people out there who still want to hurt the human

- He is surprised by the description Mc gives of the human world as he remembers it being so interesting, but he guesses that since it has been very long since he last went but is still sad to hear it’s less interesting’

- Can act like a brat whenever MC puts themselves in danger due to their curiosity

- If they ask to see his natural form he is a bit shy because he worried they might get scared by him seeing as how he killed them in only half demon form so how were they going to handle his whole entire self

- Seeing their eyes light up at his explanation as to where they were made his heart leap with joy

- He knew this year would go smoothly with such an enthusiastic human!

- He was wrong.

- It feels like every five seconds he will be getting a call from Lucifer about MC almost dying from getting too close to demons and other Devildom native creatures.

- Worried about the poor human but doesn’t want to ruin their fun so he scolds them very lightly and assigns familiars to protect them 24/7

- If MC wants to talk to him about any other creatures, rather than going to find them by themselves, he is glad to educate them on any false stories they’d heard

- When MC asks to see his final form he laughs it off at the time, afraid of hurting or frightening them

- But if MC insists enough he will show them and is rather shocked when they enthusiastically poke and prod at him while asking a bunch of questions.

- He knew MC would be like this as he was one of the main people to prepare for MC’s arrival

- He’d prepared a bunch of horror fantasy novels for the brothers to put in the human’s room

- Was a fan of reading those books as well, but mostly because he liked to see how the humans interpreted the existence of such creatures

- When Diavolo starts getting stressed about MC’s constant questioning to random demons who try to hurt them, Barbatos decides to entertain MC for a bit and offer them a crash course on demon foods so they could better understand the diets of the creatures around them

- Worries a bit for their safety as he knows Mammon isn’t the most reliable, but still decides to trust him for the sake of his own sanity

- If MC wants to see his natural form he hesitates for like a second before transforming

- Finds it cute how the human examines the big scary demon with so much enthusiasm

- As a fellow human he can understand the dissatisfaction with the human world and it’s lack of interesting events

- But he also worries because he is comfortable going up to demons casually because he knows how to use magic and demon pacts, but MC goes up to demons casually with no way to protect themselves

- He finds it a bit funny to watch the demon brothers freak out over MC talking to other demons and putting themselves in danger

- Teaches MC all the ways to safely interact with creatures in the Devildom by using spells to protect themselves

- Forces some of his 72 demons to let MC study them and learn more about them

- Finds their enthusiasm cute but concerning

- He gets very protective every time they go to the Devildom, y’know since MC has a habit of literally chasing demons down to ask questions about their demon forms, powers and other creatures they see

- He is a bit worried when he learns about the humans intense fascination with creatures such as himself and the demons that they are now surrounded by

- Is as protective over them as he normally is with Luke

- Like the way Luke chases demons to insult them while MC chases them to ask questions and study them makes him consider getting a leash

- If MC wants to see his complete angel form he is more than happy to show them since he is meant to bring comfort to humans as an angel

- Still finds them absolutely adorable when their eyes light up as they see things they never thought they’d get to witness irl

- Tries to teach them more about those creatures they want to examine without the danger of being attacked by demons and such

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autisticcassandracain · 2 years

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Like listen I know Darkseid was almost certainly lying through his teeth here considering that literally two pages later he calls Orion his son but look,

[Image: three panels from the New Gods by Jack Kirby, showing Orion following Darkseid as Darkseid attempts to escape in a shuttle. Orion says: “There’s no escaping destiny... father!” Darkseid replies: “Don’t call me father! You were never like me! You don’t plot... you don’t scheme! You leap at life like a best of prey!”. End description.]

You know who DOES plot and scheme? Lightray.

Lightray and Darkseid’s relationship has the potential to be extremely interesting to me because they are very similar in their methods, but completely dissimilar in their goals.

Lightray is the kindest of the New Gods, a fact reiterated by numerous people. We consistently see him treat most others with kindness and respect, even when they really don’t deserve it. He is a young god who hasn’t lived through the first war with Apokolips, and as such, is often portrayed as being rather naïve and unused to the ways of war. However, he actively wants to involve himself in this new war with Apokolips, because he wants to support Orion in his fight, because he is his friend. Lightray is, without a doubt, kind.

And he’s also a giant bastard of a schemer. Rather than relying on physical strength, Lightray prefers strategizing his way through battle, something that’s often pointed out and shown. And he’s good at it! Lightray routinely comes up with very effective battle strategies and plans that save the day when brute force won’t cut it. But the interesting thing about this is, to me, the way Lightray seems to lean pretty utilitarian in his plans.

He isn’t devoid of principles or lines he won’t cross, far from it - if at all possible, Lightray prefers peaceful or at least non-lethal solutions to problems, something established as early as his first real foray into battle. But Lightray also, more than most people of New Genesis and even Orion, shows a willingness to put others in harm’s way if he believes the ends justify it. He’s also much more willing to use underhanded and dishonorable tactics to win battles if necessary. There is a calculating edge to him that can, at times, be quite ruthless.

One of the best examples of that is, in my opinion, a bit before the earlier panels with Darkseid, when Lightray deliberately shoots at Orion, scaring off some children who were helping him.

[Image: page showing a conversation between Orion and Lightray. Orion asks: “Hold! Was that you who fired it a moment ago!” Lightray, nonchalant, says: “It seems to be the favorite game here!” Orion shakes Lightray by the neck, saying: “Idiot! You might have...!!” Lightray turns more serious, saying: “I - I’m terribly sorry I frightened the boys, but I did aim very high!” Orion replies: “Amateur warrior! Return to New Genesis and live in peace!” Lightray, resolute, replies: “I won’t desert a friend who is here to fulfill a mad prophecy! This confrontation between father and son is wrong! It bodes ill for both you and Darkseid!” Orion: “Your shooting spree! Y - you really meant to wound me!” Lightray: “Who knows?! If those youngster hadn’t been there... who knows...?” Orion shakes Lightray, who is unfinlinching, saying “Fool! Fool!”. End description.]

Lightray, though conflicted about it, was very much intending to shoot Orion, his best friend, in an effort to stop him from what he considers to be a suicidal confrontation with his father. The way this was weighed is rather obvious: there is no way to stop Orion from fighting Darkseid unless he’s wounded - a wounded Orion is bad, but a dead Orion is worse - ergo, wounding Orion is the best course of action in this case. Whether he went to Apokolips with the intention of doing so, or decided it later afterwards, is ambiguous, but personally, I think it’d make sense for Lightray to have gone to Apokolips with that intention. He likely took Orion’s gear for either a quicker getaway, or as a backup plan in case he couldn’t go through with his first, either due to circumstance or because he was still heavily conflicted about it.

What ultimately stopped him, however, was the presence of some children. He ended up aiming ‘rather high’ instead, to frighten the kids away so that he could give Orion his gear. This shows the extent to which he is and isn’t willing to go; he’s willing to shoot his friend if it prevents him from greater harm, but he isn’t willing to hurt innocents in the process in order to do it. Ultimately, while Lightray has sharp edges and a willingness to employ dirty tactics, he still has a strong set of morality ultimately dependent on his kind nature.

Which puts him in a very interesting contrast to Darkseid. Darkseid, like Lightray, is primarily a plotter and a schemer. He can fight, he’s actually rather powerful, but he prefers to avoid doing so. What’s more, he actively enjoys scheming, and shows sadness when he doesn’t need to. Darkseid manipulated his way into power by carefully orchestrating his war, killing his own mother via Desaad, and then orchestrated the second war by deliberately setting Scott up to break the peace pact. He has little to no morals and will do almost whatever it takes to reach his goal.

And for what? Ambition. Darkseid wants to rule. He is obsessed with the idea of control, which is why he wants the anti-life equation so badly, and why he transformed Apokolips into essentially a giant cult in his name during his rule (something that we do not see his mother do, when she ruled). Darkseid is selfish, ruthless, and evil to the bone.

And yet, Lightray is the most obvious parallel to him on New Genesis. I haven’t read all of the New Gods stuff yet, so there’s likely to be stuff that I’m missing, but from what I’ve read, while Lightray and Darkseid don’t interact often, when they do, there’s almost a strange sort of rapport between them. The scene that comes to mind here is the one in the Orion solo, where Lightray is the first to stop forward to offer his condolences towards Darkseid after Orion’s presumed death:

[Image: panels from the Orion solo showing a conversation between Lightray and Darkseid. Lightray steps forward out of a crowd of people and salutes Darkseid. He says: “Hail, great Darkseid! I do not know what has happened to Orion, but our souls have been freed... and that can only mean that he is gone, beyond recall. Maybe beyond redemption. Perhaps in the ocompany of the Black Racer himself. He was my friend. But he was his father’s son. I am truly sorry.” Darkseid replies: “So. Of all those who stand before me, Apokolips’s noblest enemy is the first to offer consololation to Orion’s father. The Black Rather was not fate, but a simulacrum created by Metron and myself. We thought it had failed. It was designed for the sole purpose of luring Orion into a Doom Tube, a boom tube with a single entrance... and no exit, whence there is no return. It was the only way. Even I do not know if he is still alive. You were my son’s greatest friend, Lightray. I will not forget your words. Take your fellows home to New Genesis. We will not shame the memory of a great warrior. There will be no other dying this day.” End description.]

This scene is fascinating to me for many reasons, but the ones that matter right now have to do with Lightray and Darkseid’s interaction. Lightray is fully aware that Darkseid is a horrible person on all levels, but chooses to address him with respect as the ruler of Apokolips. This is interesting, since this is, in fact, a pre-established norm; in The New Gods (1971) #7, Metron is shown to forget similar manners with Darkseid’s mother, and when called out for it, to express his apologies. But that was before the first war against Apokolips, and it was Metron, who is by far the most morally dubious of those from New Genesis. To see Lightray emulating it here is an interesting choice, especially since he specifically chooses to express his condolences to Darkseid as Orion’s father, when he really has not been much of a father to him. I think it goes to show the extent of Lightray’s kind nature and the way he aims to treat most others with respect.

More interesting to me, however, is Darkseid’s reply. I would not call Darkseid ‘noble’, but he does show respect for his enemies when they do something that impresses him. (This is likely why he cares for Orion to begin with, since he definitely didn’t while Orion was still on Apokolips.) Here, he seems impressed by Lightray’s shown respect and nobility, even when waking up immediately after Orion mindcontrolled him and the entire population of at least three planets. It’s interesting to me that Darkseid ends up being impressed by and respectful of this, and I think it has a lot of implications for other interactions between Darkseid and Lightray.

I don’t necessarily have a succinct point with this essay that got way too long, but Darkseid and Lightray have a lot of potential to me as parallels and foils, and it’s a shame that not many people take advantage of it. To me, Darkseid and Lightray are mirror images of each other; they are very similar in a lot of aspects, yet polar opposites where it matters.

And I think it’d be interesting to see the both of them examine that. I feel like Darkseid would respect Lightray quite a bit, actually, and be very impressed by him; but would he respect Lightray’s difference in morality and goals, or would he think it’s holding him back? In the case of Lightray, would he be intimidated by his and Darkseid’s similarities? Would Lightray respect Darkseid, as shown in the earlier scene from the Orion solo, or would he be disappointed and disgusted that Darkseid uses his cunning for his own needs? Metron and Darkseid are often shown to have something of a rapport going on, even though, to me, that doesn’t make a lot of sense; but would that dynamic be better suited to Lightray and Darkseid? Or would their differences in morality ultimately be far too big a hurlde to overcome?

It’s just interesting to think about to me.

#lightray #darkseid #new gods #the fourth world #my posts #infodumping

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watermelonlipstick · 3 years

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Stabbed

This was written following an anon request that read as follows:

Hello sweetie, can I please request a dean x reader one shot in which she gets stabbed during a rough hunt and it's a race against time to save her (maybe Sam is the one driving and dean gets in the backseat with her?) And dean is scared of losing her and he has a panic attack after she wakes up but she manages to calm him down?

Obviously everyone’s experiences with panic attacks are different, but I tend to think if Dean had one it might manifest more externally as a violent outburst; I think he would subconsciously feel like it’s a more acceptable way to express ~freaking the fuck out~. This fic is sort of loosely set during early season 3, partly because that contextualization made sense to me with what you were describing and partly because I feel like that tenderhearted, slightly-less-jaded Dean would be more likely to allow himself to be perceived as vulnerable in such a fraught moment.

I’ve also taken a couple liberties with the medical situation described for literary purposes. 😋 Don’t @ me, I know this isn’t exactly how hypovolemic shock plays out.

Title: Stabbed

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4206

Summary: Dean’s anxiety gets the best of him when the reader appears fatally injured on a hunt, and is soothed only after the danger is gone.

Warnings: canon-appropriate violence, description of panic attack, swearing

Sam slammed the door once Dean had hauled you into the backseat, propping you up like a mannequin next to him on the bench. Your vision was starting to fade in and out, but the sense memory of the muscles in Dean’s side and the leather seat underneath you were comforting anyway. It seemed like the car started flying before Sam had even closed the driver’s side door and you tried hard to focus on Dean’s babbling.

“You’ll be able to give me shit about this one forever, right, kid? Should’ve listened to you, you said they would’ve left the barn by the time we got there. Always so smart, when am I going to learn?” He was trying to chuckle but it came out breathy and wrong, Dean never quite able to actually hit the casual affect he wanted in moments like this. Honestly, it made you more nervous, knowing that for injuries he wasn’t worried about he wanted to look over you with clinical precision, chastise you for being careless. He only did this pretend calm when he was trying to keep it together—you used to think it was only for you or Sam but after a few years and more than a few bad scares you started to understand it for the defense mechanism it truly was. Not that you needed extra evidence that this was bad; you could feel the life leeching out of you like a water balloon with a pinprick leak.

“Hey, come on—open your eyes for me, lemme see those stunners,” he said, guiding your chin up where you had begun to slump onto his shoulder. “Perfect, yeah, just like that. Hey, stay with me—”

You mustered up everything you had to swim to the surface of the sleep-darkness your body so desperately wanted and straightened your spine to take a deep breath. Bad idea, the wounds in your side feeling like they were splitting you clean in half even through the haze. At least it woke you up for a moment to catch Dean’s eyes, fiery with panic even as he tried to smile.

“Dean, I—” you started, feeling like your throat was full of broken glass.

“Babe, don’t try to talk, it’s okay, you can tell me whatever it is when we get to a hospital.”

Sam turned his head away from the rural highway the Impala was absolutely sailing down to look back at his older brother. “We’re hours away from a hospital, we’ve gotta go back to the motel,” he said, low and serious.

“If we’re hours away from a hospital then I guess we’re driving for a couple hours, aren’t we, Sammy?” Dean was getting worse and worse at covering the hard edge of fear-driven anger in his voice as the seconds ticked by.

“Dean, we—she’s—we don’t have a couple hours.”

Dean closed his eyes tight and set his jaw firm. “We’re going to a fucking hospital.”

His brother swerved deftly around a giant pothole, somehow able to turn the wheel so slightly that the car’s path barely changed. “Listen to me. She can’t bleed like that for long enough to get to a hospital. We have to try to handle this one ourselves or there’s no chance—”

The whole conversation felt like it was happening to someone else, your senses starting to detach from your body, and you couldn’t hold onto those trains of thought for long enough to process them. You were forced to expend all the energy you had on what you needed to say, and reached for Dean’s hand with a weak grip.

“Dean, look at me.”

He sounded like a hurt puppy when he said, “please,” and you knew he was asking you not to make him listen but you were worried you were out of options, out of time. That frantic smile looked almost crazed as it started to quiver on his face, eyelashes clumping with moisture.

“Sam, can you hear me too?” you asked, frustrated in an abstract way at how frail your voice sounded.

He gave one tight nod in the rearview mirror with a jaw set firm as iron, and when he said “Yes—yeah,” it was choked.

“I love you idiots so much. These last—ow, Jesus—however many years have been some of the most fun I’ve ever had. I wouldn’t take it back for anything. Sam, I—you’re the best friend I’ve ever had and I—fuck,” you winced, something about the breath you took to keep from crying sending an electric jolt of pain through you and doubling you over.

“It’s okay, I know,” Sam said up into the rearview mirror, and you couldn’t tell if the way the headlights were falling on the trees impossibly fast was something about your sight being distorted, because if it wasn’t then you were surprised the Impala hadn’t broken some kind of land speed record. You made a mental note to tell Dean to start drag racing before remembering you might not tell him anything ever again. What you were nearly positive you weren’t imagining were the break in Sam’s voice or the reflection of tears on his cheek as he locked eyes with you in the mirror.

By the grace of whatever higher power the Winchesters were on the good side of at the time, you connected with him in the reflection, were able to absorb some fraction of the bone-crushing, pick-you-up-off-your-feet hug you wanted so badly from Sam in that moment. You tried to be thankful for what you got and drifted back to Dean’s gaze.

“And Dean, baby,” you continued, some bizarre flutter of second wind giving you enough force to clench your hand tightly around his and remember to keep your breaths shallow, keep talking even if your eyes couldn’t quite focus. “This was not your fault, you gotta—promise—me you know it wasn’t.”

“I, ah—” he faltered, throat vibrating as he tried to keep the inevitable tears down.

You gripped his hand tighter, felt your fingers going numb, and tried to smile hoping it didn’t look too grotesque on a face almost certainly drained of lifelike color. “C’mon, gotta obey a last wish, right?” The grief-stricken chuckle of surprise that dark joke punched out of Dean opened the floodgates, and tears burst forward to stream down his face. He gave an almost imperceptible nod.

You’d thought of some goofy punchline to try to give, some ‘no sleeping with random girls for at least a year, want you guys to pour one out for me every day’ bullshit but seeing the love and pain in Dean’s eyes as your vision came in and out zapped it away. “I love you baby. I just—thank you for—everything—and—”

It was getting too hard to take even those shallow breaths, your hearing gone fuzzy around the edges, and the last thing you remembered was seeing a streetlight on the edge of town as Dean took your face in his hands, “I know, kid, I know, come on—please,” fading out like he was being zipped away through a long tunnel.

You were completely motionless in Dean’s arms, pulse gone thready enough that Dean was having a hard time finding it through the rumble of the car.

“Fuck, Sam, FUCK!” Dean screamed, one hand wrapped up in the hair at the back of your neck as he fought desperately to keep you upright.

Sam muscled through the lump in his throat and tried to stay focused. “When we get there you need to be ready to go, okay, Dean? HEY, listen to me. Don’t quit on me like this,” he barked, trying to catch his brother’s eyes in the rearview mirror without taking his focus off the road, terrified at the speed of the Impala and the potential of repeating what had happened the last time he’d had someone he loved bleeding out in the backseat.

The car skittered around two corners and Sam prayed as hard as he had ever prayed for anything that there weren’t any Keystone cops looking to meet their month’s ticket quota by hanging around dark parking lots with radar guns, willed Dean to stop punching the window of the car with the hand that wasn’t clutching your head to his chest. He couldn’t decide if he thought it would’ve been better to have Dean drive, if he would’ve been able to hold it together any better than Dean was right now, if Dean could’ve focused if he was driving and not feeling you drift in his arms. There wasn’t time to figure it out and it ultimately didn’t matter, his brother turning into a bomb in the backseat and Sam needed to figure out a way to funnel Dean’s sheer panic back into the denial that would fuel him to keep moving, do anything to keep you alive, regardless of whether there was any hope left.

“It’s not over, you’ve gotta keep it together. She needs you. See, we’re right around—"

But he didn’t get to finish through the flurry of action as he pulled into the motel. He careened the Impala straight up to the door of the room, more than half of the car parked over a strip of grass intended to make the nondescript building feel more homey. By the time he’d torn the keys from the ignition Dean was practically leaping out of the backseat, carrying you into the room a quarter step after Sam half-busted the door open, laying you on a bed and tearing your t-shirt off with his bare hands like a cheap wrestling gimmick.

Sam didn’t bother closing the motel door, moving too fast to care as he ripped a cork out of whiskey bottle with his teeth and poured it all over your now-exposed side, grimacing with nausea at the way it didn’t make you draw back in pain even a little. Dean tried his best to thread a needle with floss and remember whether it was better or worse that the blood was still flowing fast and bright red out of those stab wounds rather than slowing or oxidizing—this is bush league shit Dad pounded in years ago why can’t I remember fucking any of it? His hands shook with too much adrenaline to get the floss through the needle but Sam was already working on patching the biggest wound, tying knots with the rapid precision of a surgeon.

It was only when he started getting in Sam’s way that the younger Winchester said anything more, encouraged that Dean was at least trying to pull himself together. He began talking through the stitches, muttering when he had to pull one tight with his teeth.

“We—Dean, look at me.” Sam drilled into him with those brackish eyes, struggling to maintain the appearance of being in control that his brother needed of him when he could feel you going cold underneath his fingertips. “We’re going to need to give her a lot of fluids when she wakes up; all we have is beer. Go get some stuff for her to drink—electrolytes, she’ll need electrolytes.”

“I’m not going to fucking leave, asshole!” Dean was strung out and not even pretending to hide it anymore, voice taking on that juvenile squeak Sam had only heard a handful of times since Dean was a teenager.

He took a deep breath in an effort to soothe himself before speaking as clearly and firmly to Dean as possible, no room for negotiation. “Dean. This is not helping. The best thing you can do for her is to go get some fluids. Gatorade, OJ, bananas too, if they have them. She’ll need iron but we can deal with other food once she wakes up.”

“What if she doesn’t—” Dean half-moaned, sounding like he’d been struck by something that was sucking all the oxygen from his lungs, looking like he was on the last ten feet of a hundred-mile race.

“She’s going to wake up.”

And Sam’s stubbornness actually did help Dean a bit in that moment, knowing that even if his life was about to change radically, that never would. “Go get some fucking Gatorade.”

By the time Dean came back—arms filled with so many bags of sports drinks that it would be comical in any other context—his brother had stitched up every wound, cleaned off most of the blood, and put all your limbs atop high stacks of pillows in an attempt to get as much blood to your vital organs as possible. Dean was near catatonic with the singular focus of a task, which was Sam’s intention. One thing at a time.

After about five minutes of sitting alongside Sam watching you, thick, viscous panic bubbled back up to the surface.

At first, he was muttering like he was talking to himself. “She told me, she fucking told me they wouldn’t be in the barn anymore, I didn’t listen. I should’ve been right behind her, Sam, what the fuck was I thinking—she was—she—she was alone, they wouldn’t have—” and then the way his voice built to a fever pitch matched his body, Dean perched on the mattress like a sailboat in a tempest, slammed against invisible waves of panic.

“It wasn’t your fault, Dean. You couldn’t have known—”

“She was alone against five of them, Sam, do you get that? I left her fucking ALONE!” Dean wailed, springing forward from the bed with eruptive energy and bashing the nightstand lamp hard enough that its base shattered against the opposite wall, coming clean out of the socket as easily as if it hadn’t been plugged in. Sam flinched but didn’t get up, instead taking a quick visual inspection that no shards of ceramic somehow bounced back to cut your still body. By the time he glanced up again he only had a millisecond to react as Dean threw a chair from the kitchenette against the wall, exploding the mirror there into shimmering beads of glass and ricocheting back, forcing Sam block it with a forearm lest it hit him or you.

“DEAN, enough!” he yelled, crossing over to his brother with a few powerful strides and grappling with him, battling to keep Dean still as the older of the Winchester brothers fought to destroy the room to match the chaos in his mind. Sam knew exactly what was going on, the way Dean’s brain converted fear to rage, but hated when his brother got like this, not only because it cut so deep to see him in pain but because the explosiveness was so similar to the knock-down drag-outs they’d grown up with, made it impossible to try to fix the root of the problem.

Sam tackling Dean to the ground was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes.

“Do I pull this shit when you guys are sleeping?” you croaked from the mattress, trying to sit up and immediately abandoning that plan, stilling yourself and holding your breath until the pain settled a fraction.

Sam and Dean scrambled to get to their feet and ran over to you, hovering over the bed looking like their backs had a light dusting of glitter rather than a million tiny shards of glass.

“What’re—are you okay? What do you remember?” Sam blurted out, grabbing a bottle of Gatorade out of a plastic bag and cracking it open for you. He snatched a pillow and helped you sit up slowly, jamming it under your head so you could drink.

“Well, I’ve definitely felt better,” you tried to chuckle, but the tension it caused in your abdominal muscles made you wince. “I’m really sorry, you guys, I shouldn’t have—” you began, immediately stopped by the way Sam and Dean shook their heads, sucked on their teeth.

“I’m—ah,” Sam started, smiling self-deprecatingly through the shake in his voice and looking down at the ground for a beat with his tongue in his cheek. It was like his body knew that the worst of the crisis had passed and refused to let him hide his emotions for one second further. After a second he met your eyes again, faintest hint of tears in his eyes. “I’m really glad you’re up.”

Behind him, Dean collapsed into himself, his expression simultaneously complete relief and like he’d seen a ghost. You peered around Sam to meet his gaze. “Hey, dork,” you breathed, unable to come up with anything to match the weight of the moment.

He opened his mouth a few times and couldn’t find anything either, wincing and biting his lip hard as he rubbed the back of his head nervously. “I’m so sorry,” he finally choked out.

As always, Sam knew what Dean needed and snatched the car keys off the table as his brother tried in vain to keep his restless limbs still. He gazed at you with such naked thankfulness it made you smile involuntarily. “I’m going to see how much red meat I can find you, I’ll be right back, okay? Drink as many of these as you can and don’t stand up alone.” You nodded gratefully to him as he backed out the door.

When Sam left, Dean still shifted uncomfortably on his feet, clenching and unclenching his hands until he ultimately jammed them deep into the pockets of his coat with enough force that it shook loose almost all of the glass, sending it floating to the ground around him as if he was a mirage. You could see, even as he stood a few paces away from the bed, that his breathing was quickened from the rapid, shallow movements of his chest and neck. “I’m—ah, I didn’t think—I shouldn’t have—” he stammered against a jaw locked shut tensely enough to make the muscles bulge out of his cheeks, and the lack of the self-assuredness that was normally so Dean to you made him seem unbelievably young, made you want to leap across the room and wrap him up in your arms. As it was, you beckoned him over with a shaky hand.

He walked over to you hesitantly, only sitting down on the side opposite your injuries when you patted the sheets next to you. Awkwardly trying to move your torso as little as possible, you tossed the pillows on that side to the floor and motioned for him to lay down.

“I don’t want to hurt—”

“I’ll be fine. Please?”

Reluctantly taking off his coat and dropping it unceremoniously to the ground, he gingerly tucked himself under your arm and laid his head on your chest. You faintly dragged your fingertips down his back, waiting for his heartbeat and uneven, shallow breathing to slow down. When they didn’t and all you felt was a spreading wetness on the remaining upper half of t-shirt you still had, you twisted laboriously to see Dean’s face.

Tears streamed down onto you, Dean biting his lip so hard to keep quiet you were shocked you couldn’t see blood, the whites of his teeth almost matching the pressure-blanched skin.

“Oh, Dean,” you hummed, pulling him close to you with your one arm. “Babe, I’m here, I’m right here. Everything’s okay; I’m okay, you get to treat me like a princess for a few days and I’ll learn for the hundredth time that I shouldn’t go off by myself.”

“I—I thought you were gone,” Dean whispered between stunted sobs breaking the words off in short staccato, still fighting to speak as though he wasn’t crying even as his tears soaked you.

You craned your neck slowly to kiss the top of his head. “Not gone, right here. Always going to be right here.”

“You were bleeding so mu—just like Sam, it was just like when Sam—” he faltered, speaking slowly to try to grab the reins of his voice as it shook.

“Not just like Sam, baby, I’m still here. Everyone’s okay. And Sam’s okay too, right?” You waited for him to confirm what you knew was true and emphasize your point, drawing back to meet his gaze when he didn’t. “Right?”

Reluctantly, Dean nodded. The redness around his eyes made his irises seem almost unreal in electric green contrast and you couldn’t believe you were so close to never seeing them again. His lashes were even darker than normal, spiky black frames formed with salty tears like cartoonish mascara. You waited a beat then let him settle back into your chest before continuing, feeling the choke-hiccupping of his breath stop even if it stayed rapid. “Everyone’s okay. You’re okay,” you hummed into his hair. “You’re okay, baby.”

The two of you stayed like that until Dean’s breathing finally steadied, waiting past the clearly forced long held breaths and through to the point that he genuinely seemed like he’d hit the smooth rhythm you knew so well. “How are you feeling?” you murmured.

“Like a bitch,” he grumbled softly against your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile, thankful beyond anything for the glint of humor back in Dean, that shimmer of normalcy returning.

“Sorry for scaring you.”

“I’m never fucking letting you out of my sight again,” he said, words still sticky with swirling emotion and muffled by his cheek pressed against you. You knew he was only partly joking but also that now was not the time to push back, just kissing his hair in response.

There was no way it took Sam an hour to get you a diner burger but you were thankful for his intuition nonetheless, because by the time he got back Dean was calm enough to get up and had even helped you to put on a new t-shirt—one of his black ones; he said it was because it was looser but you suspected it was some kind of metaphor, covering you with part of himself—and shimmy into a pair of mesh athletic shorts. Standing up for a shower was still too ambitious, but the fresh clothes made you feel a little less gross. He was trying his best to clean up as much broken glass as possible when his brother opened the door and tossed him a paper bag with a bubbly illustrated hamburger on it.

Walking into the room without taking his jacket off, Sam set your food on the nightstand and grabbed a motel binder of local attractions (minimal) as a makeshift tray for you to eat off of before carefully helping you to sit up a little more. “Double cheeseburger—eat it before the fries, you need the iron. Oh, and I almost forgot—couple of these too.” He reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved two bottles in one big hand that appeared to be acetaminophen and an iron supplement.

“You’re the best, Sam.” It was nice to hear your voice sound more normal, lubricated with two bottles of Gatorade already, and you tried not to imagine how awkward or painful it was going to be to try to get up and go to the bathroom later.

The Winchesters sat on the other bed, still in their boots because of the rug of broken glass no one wanted to acknowledge, and Sam turned on whatever dumb comedy he could find first. For a fleeting moment it felt like any normal night on the road, nursing an injury and eating greasy food in a room you’d never see again past tomorrow morning, and you almost forgot that (minutes? hours? you still didn’t know how long you’d been out) earlier you thought you were saying goodbye to the two people you loved most, who’d moved heaven and earth and miles of rural highway to bring you back, whose superhero resilience you’d seen start to crack at the thought of losing you. A searing jolt of pain when you reached for another Gatorade reminded you all too much, and when you hissed both Sam and Dean leapt off the bed with faces contorted in concern.

“Just stretched too far, I’m okay.”

Watching them take twin deep breaths could’ve been funny and you hoped it would be in a few days—hoped in a few days laughing wouldn’t feel like being impaled. For now, you tried to drink in this little moment of peace and made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t take another one for granted ever again.

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salchat · 3 years

Text

Someone Furry

Rodney missed his cat. He missed the way she’d jump up onto his lap and drape herself over his legs, her soft, heavy weight warming him from inside and out. He missed the feel of her fur between his fingers, the way he could run his hand the whole length of her body from her nose, over her flattened ears, down her soft sides and then, his hand closed to surround it, all the way to the tip of her tail. He missed her deep, thrumming purr, the chirps and brips she made in response to his voice, so that they often had far more sensible conversations than he ever did with his colleagues.

But most of all he missed her simple presence, her neutral acceptance of everything he did, everything he was; her wide golden eyes that regarded him, not with contempt as some people interpreted the penetrating gaze of a cat, but with all-seeing, all-knowing recognition of him as belonging absolutely and completely to her.

He’d left her. Of course he’d left her on Earth. He’d had to. And he’d known he’d probably never see her again and it had torn a hole in his heart that he didn’t think was ever likely to heal. Had her feline heart suffered similar damage? Or did she regard her new owner with that wide-eyed gaze and then jump up onto their lap and present herself for their attention in the way he missed so much? Probably. Cats were pragmatists. It was a fact of life.

Rodney eased out his back and spun around on his stool, unsurprised to find the lab empty. He stretched up to peer over the top of Radek’s screen, but there were no tufts of wild hair or glinting rims of glasses or exhausted, propped-open eyes. And no wonder - it was nearly three in the morning.

He yawned, scratched his head, scratched his stomach and then, because there was no one about, he reached up under his shirt and had a general scratch around, chasing an itch that ran from his questing fingers. He ran it to ground on his right shoulder blade, his left shoulder cracking as he reached behind himself to wipe the itch out of existence with sweeps of his thumb. Then he stretched himself out again and adjusted his shirt into some kind of order.

Was Sheppard back yet? No, He couldn’t be. It was more than the Gate techs’ lives were worth not to inform him immediately of any updates in John’s status, when he’d given them such very firm, explicit instructions. Anyway, there was no need to worry, he told himself - again. John was out doing good works, overseeing both Lorne’s team and Stackhouse’s team while they helped out a village hit by a mudslide. And what the inhabitants of the Pegasus Galaxy had done before Intergalactic Rescue had shown up Rodney had no idea, but he thought just occasionally they should go back to doing whatever it was they had done before and leave Atlantis out of it, and especially an over-tired, mission-weary, easily-guilt-tripped-into-doing-whatever-you-want John Sheppard.

“They’re our allies, Rodney - they help us, we help them.”

Huh. Rodney spent a satisfying ten minutes grumbling aloud to himself about a bunch of rustics who’d never have anything useful to contribute apart from a few inferior, knobbly vegetables that tasted of mouldy turnip, so why should John have to bother helping them? Of course, Rodney had found the problem in their Ancient aqueduct system. And there’d been that kid who kept hanging around him and calling him Dr Rodanee-sir and bringing him cups of the local drink which tasted remarkably like chocolate milkshake. But those things were beside the point. And John had flat-out denied Rodney’s request to go on the rescue mission.

Anyway, he was tired and he missed his cat. Because sometimes you just needed someone furry, and that was all there was to it.

He went to bed.

In the morning Sheppard still wasn’t back and everyone in the lab was being more than usually stupid and noisy and so wrong that he had to make them all stop what they were doing so that he could enumerate and elaborate on all the ways in which they were wrong, providing each member of his staff with a detailed verbal list that they should damn well take notes on for future reference. And yes, he would be testing them on their knowledge of their own wrongness at an unspecified future date.

Then Stackhouse’s team came back, exhausted and covered in mud. Then Lorne’s team, ditto. Then (and Rodney thought there might be dents in the Gateroom railing from his clenched hands), finally, Sheppard staggered through the Gate, more exhausted and more covered in mud than any of them.

John looked up at Rodney and Rodney looked down at John. His muddy right hand twitched in what was probably an attempt at a wave conveying his general fineness and that nobody should worry or fuss or do anything that expressed the remotest kind of concern. It was a pathetic attempt and merely underlined his not fineness and that everyone and most particularly Rodney, should definitely be concerned.

Rodney found himself at John’s side, unsure how he’d transported himself down from the control level - a giant leap over the crushed railing? Levitation?

Medical staff harried the muddy men and women away, and Rodney followed, at John’s side, not touching him, because… ew. There wasn’t a square inch of unmuddied skin. Even John’s eyes were red, as if they’d got mud in too. And his hair was just unnatural - plastered to his head, showing the actual shape of his skull, which you just never saw, even when he was straight out of the shower because mere water was nothing against the springiness of John Sheppard’s hair. A couple of times Rodney looked around in case he was shadowing the wrong mud-monster, but no, this brown figure was definitely the right shape and size and seemed to have that slouchy gait, even though its feet were dragging and its arms dangling in abject weariness.

They wouldn’t let Rodney in the infirmary. And it was Rodney who’d helped install the roomful of showers for just such an occasion as this, when filthy, exhausted teams came back, probably contaminated with all kinds of viruses and parasites, germs and bacteria and no doubt hiding injuries beneath their assorted filth.

So he sat down and waited. And no, it wasn’t the same as waiting for news when John had been carried to the infirmary, injured and unable to make it under his own steam. It wasn’t as if Rodney was waiting, terrified, for life-or-death news, biting his nails and chewing the inside of his cheek until it bled.

But he really missed his cat. And he’d had a bad day - a bad few days. Which surely must be all John’s fault, because most things were, or at least they were his absence’s fault because you just needed someone like John around all the time for some reason. Look, he wasn’t going to analyse it, alright? It was a fact. And Rodney missed his cat.

And probably Carson would want to keep John here - for observation. Rodney snorted, spraying bits of chewed up nail onto the floor. If John needed observing he’d do it - because who better to observe than a scientist? Observing was what he did. He’d watch John like a hawk, he’d take notes and draw diagrams, he’d gather data, both quantitative and qualitative, he’d hypothesise and extrapolate. What more could any medical so-called professional do?

“Yes, you can go.” The doctor’s long suffering voice followed a round-shouldered scrub-clad figure through the barely slid-open doors.

“Hey, Rodney.”

Rodney stood up, beginning his scrutiny right here and now. “Your eyes are red. You need antibiotic drops.”

“Had them.”

“Has that scrape on your face been disinfected?”

“Yeah.”

“The bandage on your wrist - what’s that hiding?”

“t’s just sprained. Can we get out of here?”

Rodney folded his arms and conveyed through his most steely glare that John had better not try to hide even the most minor of injuries from him or he’d been in a whole shit-tonne of trouble which would make a mudslide look like that time some idiot had knocked over Rodney’s chocolate pudding.

“You’re coming with me.”

He took John’s arm, because there was no way he was allowing a rudderless John Sheppard to drift away from him. The exhausted man didn’t wriggle away or even protest, which made Rodney grumble angrily under his breath about societies that couldn’t clear up after their own natural disasters and just had to go and impose themselves upon overworked Colonels.

They made it to his room and he let John slither onto the bed and stacked up the pillows around him until he was approximately upright with most of his limbs on the bed.

“This is your room, Rodney.”

“Yes. It is. And you’re in it.”

“’kay.”

“Humph.” Rodney nodded, glad John had accepted his to-be-pushed-around status. “First you’re going to eat. And then you’re going to sleep.”

“Yessir,” slurred John.

Rodney boiled some water and made some instant mashed potato, which was one of his preferred food choices in cases of extreme exhaustion. It was the cheesy mash type, which was his covetously-hoarded favourite, but John looked like a man in great need of a large bowl of cheesy mash. With a blob of ketchup on top. Maybe more than one blob.

John smiled a sleepy smile at the ketchup blobs, which may have formed a crude happy face, but that was, of course, a complete accident on Rodney’s part. The mash was mechanically consumed. Rodney took the bowl and then pushed a glass into John’s hand, making sure his scraped knuckles curled around it. The glass contained chocolate milkshake, but only because he’d been thinking today about that stuff they made on the mudslide planet. He hadn’t gone out of his way to get the powder or the milk. And absolutely no begging had been involved at the entrance to the hallowed, jealously guarded territory of the kitchen staff.

He sat down next to John, glad that he hadn’t been stupid enough to take his friend back to his own room with its tiny bed. This way he too could sit propped up by a bank of pillows, which were necessary to support his back while he carried out his purely clinical observations of his team leader.

John drained the glass and he was too tired and too oblivious to wipe away his milkshake moustache, so Rodney did it for him.

Then John smiled another lop-sided sleepy smile, his eyelids drooped and shut down completely and his slumped body slumped even more, slowly slithering down until his head rested in Rodney’s lap.

But Rodney had his friend. He had John, who had fallen asleep on him, his head heavy on Rodney’s thighs, his newly-washed hair fluffy and thick and dark. He touched the soft strands and they tickled his palm. Then he ran his hand over and through the dense thicket, from John’s forehead, curving all the way around his head to the nape of his neck where the hairs were short and usually they looked scratchy, but at the moment they too felt soft and fine. He lifted his hand and stroked again, the hair running through his fingers, dragging and flattening, then freeing itself to spring up into feathery plumes. Then once again and again, slowly, gently, with a rhythm of love and peace.

And in Rodney’s chest a knot released and something warm and sweet and caramelly-rich blossomed and spread out until his body was as loose and relaxed as John’s.

He missed his cat. But he had his friend, who he loved and who loved him in return. And as Rodney stroked and stroked and watched John’s slow, happy rise and fall of deep-sleep breathing, the exhausted man began to snore, in a gentle, thrumming, rumble, which sounded remarkably like a purr.

#Rodney McKay #John Sheppard #Mcshep #Fluff #More fluff #On AO3 #I met a dog in the park today and I wanted to cuddle it but you don't do that with strange dogs so I wrote this instead

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jae-canikeepyou · 3 years

Text

| kismet | j.jh | part one

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

word count: 10k+ welps

summary: his parents sends him for a month long vacation to the country side to meet his other half, which so happens to be you. and alternatively, your beloveds asks of you to be in your best behaviour while he’s around. disliking how things turn out, you both come up with a pact with each other before your two families gathers together for christmas eve dinner.

genre: arranged marriage + bad 1st impressions

a/n: happy new year ✨ and you know what that means? *wink wink* new layout for my oneshots hihi! ok you guys this took soooooo long to write ;-; i wasn’t satisfied with the first draft so i had to reboot everything! and i mean everything!! :3 so i had this specific genre in mind for a long time and i’m glad that someone requested at the same time while i was in the progress of writing it~ i should’ve posted this on christmas day but i was spending time with my family :D hope you understand hihihi anyway i’ll stop this here so you can enjoy reading! ~j

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| part two | part three (final) |

jaehyun never reacted so quickly in his entire life, simultaneously spitting out the drink he consumed and eyes growing at the news his parents suddenly brought up. his neck ache at sudden twist. “what did you say?” he wiped the drips of coffee at the corners of his lips. his breathing intensified the more the silence passed.

mr. and mrs. jeong playfully sighed & exchanged looks as their son shouldn’t be this surprised regarding the topic. they have discussed about this when he turned eighteen. now twenty-three, he shouldn’t be so surprised or over-reactive about it either.

“you heard your father,” mrs. jeong chewed her meal elegantly, yet giggles were still heard through closed lips. “you’re meeting her next week.”

he squinted with plenty of doubts filling his head, he was sure that there was still a year left. and to him that also meant he has exactly a year to convince his parents to call off the marriage he never asked for, let alone planned it. he still has a lot- correction, have yet to achieve in his mid-twenties and having a wife now would be slightly cutting his privacy short.

in other words, the path to leisure he wished for after years of academics would divert to spending a life planned out for him. he had a diary and planner, and

they were organised and well-thought out. but he had enough of his parents writing out his future for him, why couldn’t he write his own love story?

jaehyun was on his second last year of veterinary medicine, having some of the weight and pressure of academics lifted off his shoulders. of course he knew he still has to study, he just felt a little relaxed knowing that he would soon practice his dream career.

never had he expected that time flew and was going to meet his fiancé soon.

his phone blinked with along with a message from his friends— mark and johnny. he briefly looked at the wallpaper of his long-time girlfriend of four years; she was the one who was on his mind. “nononono, i can’t get married now.” jaehyun’s panicking voice echoed the dining area, shoving the phone into his pockets.

mr. jeong raised a brow, placing his cup of coffee on the glass table. “relax, you’re not putting a ring on her finger yet.”

“‘yet’?!” the dimples on his face deepened as his cheeks bubbled. “mom, dad, i haven’t even met her!”

“hm? that’s why you’re spending the whole month at the countryside!” mrs. jeong exclaimed excitingly, and to jaehyun it seemed she was enjoying herself as if she were the one going there too.

“a month?! what am i going to do over there?!”

“isn’t this great? we finally get to see you outdoors instead of a laptop and report papers! you need a break honey.” his mother clasped palms.

“ugh i can manage my time—”

“once you start working i’m pretty sure you won’t have the time to, jaehyun.”

since the love topic was brought up, his parents started to dig out their memories during their dating years. jaehyun groaned and massaged his temples, feeling uncomfortable with all the love stories he already heard or been told about. “did you forget that i have a girlfriend?” mumbling, he let out a deep, long sigh hoping they would hear him. and that failed miserably. his parents were in their own world.

he shook his leg underneath the table and grew impatient with the duration of their conversation. “please, i’m begging you. i’ll get married in my own time and pace. sue and i are pretty much going to settle once we graduate-”

a certain ringtone perked his ears and his hands quickly pat his pockets to search his phone. he let out a sigh of relief, that his girlfriend psychologically read his mind and knew how much he wanted to get out of the dinner table, not to mention his parents’ overly attachment to one another.

“sue you called! i was wondering if you want to hang out for a while.” his voice was high in spirits. but word has it when it reached its high, it would plummet to the ground shortly after. “hey, what’s wrong?”

on the other line, just a call away from his girlfriend, was her held-in sob and whimper. “where are you right now? i’m coming to get you.”

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jaehyun’s limbs shook in anger and slammed his fists onto the stirring wheel so hard that this time he promised himself he would move on. last week, she didn’t just break up with him— that was a call for farewell, something kept well hidden from him and all this time he didn’t know she felt the way she did for the years they’ve spent together.

for a minute he wished this was all a dream, that conscious world would wake his slumber mind. it wasn’t. the reality pretty much awoke him and kept him up all night. he blinked several times, her words still numbing his hearing, wishing it was a lie... but he heard her loud and clear that night.

“...you’ll always have a place in my heart.. but i’m really sorry..”

he grew speechless though his heart had millions of questions. the windows of his lips sealed closed no matter how much he wanted them to be answered. opposite from where he was at, he stared at the porch of her house, waiting for a silhouette to appear before him. instead a luxurious car pulled over and an unfamiliar man took his coat off to wrap around sue. that action didn’t hurt jaehyun, but it was sue’s smile of comfort that triggered his pain more. seemed like she knew this man given that she let him into her house, like nothing heartbreaking happened before this.

the door closed and jaehyun’s teary eyes never left her residence until loud slams of swinging car doors opened on both sides of the passenger’s seats. “tsk.” he hissed and quickly rubbed the tears meaning to fall. him being seen crying would really make him a target for his friends, for not moving on. couldn’t risk being the attention more than he already was.

“goodness mark it’s not like we’re on vacation that you have to pack almost everything,” johnny threw one of mark’s duffle bags at the boy, earning a so-what kind of look from him. “we’ll only bring jae to the y/l/n’s then leave afterwards—”

screw this, jaehyun thought. by now he shouldn’t look too swollen to his friends. but screw mark for renting and living across from his ex’s house.

“save your explanation john.” jaehyun growled and started the engine, fastening his while seatbelt the two continued their bickers. more of it was mark’s shallowness that pissed johnny.

“yeah, save your explanation john- ow!” mark gave the tall lad a death-gazing glare at the pain that stayed on his skin.

johnny leaned forwards, tapping the dimpled boy on the shoulder. “dude, you changed your mind?”

jaehyun scoffed, resting his left arm onto the window’s edge as he drove. “mom said i should be accompanied. i didn’t want you both to come but she’s so insisting it’s getting into my nerves.”

“actually mrs. jeong said you might need us after your sudden breakup,” mark pressed the button. the window rolled up and down whereas him and johnny exchanged looks to try to liven up the mood in the car. “what are friends for, hm?”

“o-oh yeah. you’ll need us.. as in.. ‘sue’pport.” he nodded with a fake sob. soon mark bursted out in giggles and joined the wagon.

“‘cause you lost your ‘sue’weetheart.” “she’s making you ‘sue’per emotional.” “we were ‘sue’prised she dumped you.” “but as your brothers, we ‘sue’wear we’ll be here—”

“ugh! i don’t know why mom suggested you to come but your side comments really aren’t helping at all—” jaehyun rolled his eyes regretting instantly at the pain afterwards.

his friends found him hilarious. they were laughing so hard that jaehyun couldn’t continue or interrupt their exploding voices. “since when did you need help, mr. leave-me-alone?” johnny took a huge leap from his seat to be beside the offended boy. “for all i know you’re the type who wants everything perfect, in control and planned.”

“nah dude, right now..” mark zipped his bag. “he needs help with love issues.”

“this has nothing to do with my love! and for the record, about the y/f/n’s? it’s arranged!” he lowered his cap and slid back slightly against the seat while the car was on idle. “do i need to spell it out for you?”

“that can change dude,” johnny slurped on his giant soda takeaway. jaehyun battered his eyes but was careful enough to not leave his sight off of the road. “who knows this fiancé of yours could meet your expectations. maybe more than sue could ever do.”

jaehyun’s mind clouded and still had the effects from the breakup. still so fresh. he didn’t want to believe it in fact happened; that it was all true. he was sure sue was the one for him. hearing his pals say it word per word only had it finally sunk in— she dumped him.

it terrified him in ways he couldn’t imagine, haunted him countless of nights because he failed her. he even bragged to his parents that he would marry her and slip a ring on her finger. thinking about it, how stupid was he to hold onto that hope?

he looked like an idiot, felt like one and his friends probably viewed the same. they said his fiancé could outstand sue? she was the perfect package! what more could he get?

he had her.

honks of the vehicles behind led jaehyun’s eyes trailing to the stoplight that emitted green. he pulled over and johnny knew he had to take his place.

“here, let me drive. you’re not fit for driving. now, just be comfy back there, okay?”

—

hours later violent jolts of the car hit jaehyun’s cheek, regaining consciousness from his slumber just to witness the beautiful sunrise peeking from the horizon. he sat up, his posture trying to straighten to denumb nerves that held long during his sleep.

his playlist blasted the speakers. johnny had his legs on the dashboard and hummed with the music. mark was still sleeping peacefully like he hadn’t had a care in the world other than his precious bag of unfinished chips in his hands.

he groaned at the discomfort of pulled muscles and the sudden break to the countryside. if johnny needed an hour intervals for the drive he could’ve said so, right? but now they were at the open road, greenery and fields merging together in one land.

“what time is it? where are we and are we there yet? i’ll drive if what you do delays the journey.” jaehyun gestured him to move aside. “johnny, stop eating.” it was quarter to two.

“wha-? i’m hungry. hey, you’re the one who didn’t want to come and yet you’re rushing to get to the y/l/n’s?” johnny unwrapped his second burrito. “besides, we’re only five minutes away—”

“tsk ‘cause i need to piss real bad.” jaehyun was fidgety and panned the view before setting eyes on his friend.

johnny felt a churn in his stomach as his cheeks bubbled. “oh gross! i’m eating dude! if you’re gonna piss then do it outside?!”

jaehyun shoved the burrito into johnny’s mouth to not speak anymore. “rather hold it in than for you to puke in my car!” he held his strength while johnny fought his way to breathe properly. “i won’t piss outside and there are cattles who feed on fields!”

“bruh stop lecturing me with your vet knowledge- ah!” johnny held his forehead from the sudden finger flicking.

“dude, it’s called common sense. now move aside!” he shooed the tall boy off the driver’s seat. jaehyun stepped on the gas, heading towards a small town entrance.

they finally reached a couple of stores & restaurants, surveying and asking its townsmen using your family name to locate your residence. maybe they would know which apartment or house you resided in. except that was the twist of their understanding.

jaehyun and his boys were shocked to know how your family name plastered in posters and brand products displayed at open stores, but were more shocked to see the gazes from the people.

a little over an hour, they managed to get hold of more information as they were told your house was ten minutes away from the town. jaehyun walked along the pavement to grab something to drink, only to be poked by a young man who was around the same age as they were.

“hi.” he greeted the unfamiliar man. “i take it you’re looking for the y/l/n’s?”

he took a squint as he observed jaehyun from head to toe, circling around him. “uh-huh, you look like m’lady’s husband-to-be in the pictures.”

“e-excuse me?” jaehyun cleared his throat, seemingly unwilling to have this conversation going.

mark held his laugh per usual, it would take time to get used to jaehyun stumbling his words.

because the engaged man really wasn’t ready at all.

“yeap he’s the guy.” johnny popped the ‘p’ with a lollipop in his mouth. jaehyun rolled his eyes, taking the candy stick and tossing it away. he didn’t care about johnny’s scoffs.

the new young lad wore his motorcycle helmet. “sweet.” he prolonged the word. and that was when both mark and johnny lost it. they recalled the pun they entertain themselves with prior to arriving here.

“oh, i work with the town’s famous family,” he showed his i.d. wrapped around his neck. “you can follow me since i’m heading there too.” the three quickly twitched at his quick paced movement. “i’m kunhang by the way, but i’d rather be called hendery. it’s my professional name, it just sounds cooler.”

jaehyun furrowed his brows at the praise. “okay hendery, uhm famous? they’re big time?” he pointed at the posters holding your family name. “how so?”

hendery swung his face shield downwards. “you’ll see.”

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gallops of horses were drumming the entire farm. dust and dirt swirled with the wind in the air and it took a while for the boys to adjust their sights at the distance. hendery dropped a couple of spare boots for them to wear. jaehyun was in awe. horses were majestic animals and though he got to study them, he never seen such a number of them on the fields.

“oh goodness me our guest is here!”

they turned around to voice of a jolly lady, an apron on and folded cuffs from her clothing. “hello there! welcome! you must be jaehyun! my soon to be son-in-law!” she shook his hands and later pulled him for a hug. “oh you look just like your mother!”

“hi mrs. y/l/n. y-yeah, i get that a lot these days,” jaehyun scratched his head. “thanks for having us.”

her eyes trailed at mark and johnny, and they too, were pulled in for a hug. “i see jaehyun brought along his handsome friends with him! do enjoy your stay here with us!” she caught a glimpse of a figure approaching the crowd. “c’mere baby and meet the boys!”

jaehyun looked over his shoulder, lips parting and exhaled a short breath. she seemed young, she has a pretty face but obviously still in high school. what the? oh g- i’m marrying you?

“pfft no ew. i’m not getting married to you. i’m only 17.” she let out a chuckle, almost sarcastic enough for jaehyun to explode.

crap i said it unconsciously.

your mother lightly slapped her arm. “marg, where’s your sister?” she asked. “i told her to specifically come at the barn 1600.”

“she took jet for a ride. ‘detour’ she said, but i guess she’s on her way here.” she replied and mark choked on his water bottle. marg rolled her eyes. “green minded ass-”

“language marg!” hendery flicked her forehead, the latter held the pain. “the rudeness. sorry, kiddo here is the family’s baby. you’ll see the eldest daughter soon- oh! right on time m’lady!” he waved his hands up high.

jaehyun didn’t know what pissed him off more; one was at himself for being starstruck and in awe at you after his breakup, and two?

the beautiful black horse you were riding on didn’t seem to be halting. it was trotting at first. you were on its saddle. he squinted his eyes, were you smirking? unbelievable. he thought you were doing this on purpose. no, you were really going to run him over.

he noticed a change in speed, trotting then galloping on dirt. the sounds of it matched with the beatings of his rising heart. jaehyun took a step back, then it became more than one, until he was worried that he would end up being chased. there were couple of gasps and reminders of voices. he fell on his bum with palms hitting the ground as he breathed heavily, eyes still on you.

the horse listened to your rein, it let out a loud neigh with its front legs heavenwards. your laugh merged with it. “whoa- hey, easy jet, easy.” you cooed the animal, soon removing your helmet and hair flowed like those in shampoo commercials. “i think he got the message.”

jaehyun sat there dumbfounded, his brows drew together. what message? you were centimetres from killing him- wait. he saw you turn cold and your smile disappearing.

bingo! he got it. he knew the reason why you did this.

you were against the arranged marriage too.

johnny leaned into mark’s ear, who had his hands cupping his lower face. “bro, jet’s a horse so stop giggling and clean your mind.”

“dude i’m not laughing at that. just look at jae. i’ve never seen him so helpless.” he cackled a laugh.

once your feet were on the ground, he finally got a better look on you. you were wearing a light wooled grey sweater with denim blue jeans. your hair now on one side and boots stained with dried mud. you took off your gloves to put your hand out for a handshake, one rested around your helmet. “hi, i’m y/n.” you greeted with a smile, ensuring it was fake enough for jaehyun to notice.

“quite of an entrance.” jaehyun dusted his jeans and groaned at the exerted strength as he stood. “jeong jaehyun. veterinary medicine student..” he was about to grab your hand until you shoved yours into the pockets of your jeans.

“y/n!” your mom exclaimed with warning. “your manners-” she clamped her lips when you put up a hand, eyes darting at her later at him.

“alright, okay. look mr. i didn’t ask for your field of study and i don’t need to know or do anything with you.”

jaehyun crossed his arms, a fake smile plastered on his face. what an attitude. “apparently you will? because i’m here for the next thirty days.”

“is that so?” you hummed and jaehyun didn’t like how you singsonged.

he knew something was coming and sometimes he thought it was best to keep quiet instead of letting his annoyance towards you spark up. “good, that means you’re helping me out with everything i do here.” he heard you say. “and do things i tell you to.”

“what?” his eyebrows snapped, and for you it was quite entertaining to see this reaction from him. following the trail of your footsteps, jaehyun stomped on wet soil as he stood before you. “hey you can’t just order me around like i’m your staff!”

“of course i can, you’re in my property-” you gestured the land.

“no, it belongs to your parents.” the tone of his voice irked you. he was grinning too.

“i can do whatever i want and choose whenever to help. i’ll only listen orders from mr. and mrs. y/l/n if they want me to do work..” he trailed off, your mother waving at him with admiration— typical as she saw him like an long lost son. “..but i guess not. my mom did say i needed a break from studying too much and she’s totally right. i must be pardoned from labour.”

it was your turn to cross arms and give him a lop-sided smile. the audacity of this man. you felt like ripping all your hair out. “you think staying here would prevent you from doing labour, your highness? sitting on your throne all dignified and at peace? well guess what, just because you’re a guest that doesn’t mean you get to be treated differently-”

you heard him bubble out a forced snicker. what was it this time? “of course it’s different! i am the guy you’re betrothed to-”

“i won’t allow it.” your jaw tightened with lips in a hard line. “a person like you is not worth my time and definitely not someone i’d want to marry.”

he pursed his lips. “wow do people ever tell you how bad of a host you are? you just don’t go shoving assumptions into people’s faces for your own entertainment. we’re humans.”

“i’m only rude to you. and yeah, people are humans. but you’re the devil’s incarnate.” you pulled jet’s reins and led him to the stables in which jaehyun observed how you gave that same smirk from earlier. “see if you’ll enjoy your stay here, hubby.”

jaehyun clenched his fists and was sure little crescent moons already indented his palms. he only wanted sue to call him that. yet that was useless, they broke up. your face remained in his head and anger filled him up, now boiling so much that he felt a little lightheaded arguing with someone like you.

he wanted to yell but johnny and mark sandwiched him between them with hendery walking in front. “tsk it’s only the first day and i want to go home.” he scrunched his nose.

hendery had his palms behind his head, lips jutting to hold his grin. “m’lady—” he corrected himself. “y/n’s not usually like that. it’s a first seeing her so cranky and hotheaded.”

“really? how is she usually like?” mark asked with curiosity. “she seems cool because she smiled at johnny and me before the tables.. y’know, turned.” he shrugged with implications towards jaehyun.

“not cranky and not hotheaded.” hendery opened the door to your house, showing them to the large living area. “a lil’ different today but i tell you, our y/n is a professional equestrian. she’s passionate with what she does and—”

“a horse rider?! passionate?!” jaehyun hissed as he took off his shoes and brown coat, kicking it slightly to the side and hung it on the wall respectively. “she almost killed me!”

johnny hit the back of jaehyun’s head and clicked his tongue. “snap out of it jae, you’re overreacting. we’re at your future in-law’s residence and i think it’s a bad idea to badmouth their daughter.”

only a low groan escaped out of jaehyun as he refused to listen. “look, first impressions don’t always hit off a good start. but thinking how you both don’t have a say to this arranged marriage, your feelings towards each other are totally understandable.”

jaehyun pressed the bridge of his nose as he took in his friend’s words. if what johnny said was true, was it right for him to begin holding grudge on you on the first day? you barely knew each other. clearly he knew you hated him, yet if his parents were here and saw the whole thing, they’d ask: why risk the chance of not trying? and again, he remembered he was told, people can change.

—

throughout dinner, he got to know what your family business was and why it was well-known. he didn’t ask questions, they were just told to him like they were comfortable with it. they weren’t bragging either. perhaps it was due to the fact jaehyun would soon be part of this family that they told him the entire story.

you didn’t show up during the hour and honestly it got jaehyun feeling so much relief since he wouldn’t have to deal with another useless argument. he disliked wasting time and preferred to do this schedule accordingly, so remembering it only made him rage inside. he was glad he wouldn’t have to deal with you tonight.

except that relief was shortlived. you had to appear right when he thought of you.

great.

he tried to fix himself in his seat on the sofa by the fireplace, averting his gaze upon you while your mother continuously slapped you light on the arms. you probably finished your bath, given that you still have a towel wrapped around your head and a.. robe.

“y/n! have some courtesy! we have guests!” your mother warned as she gestured in front to cover you, apologising to the new boys. hendery immediately stepped in as well, his eyes shutting to a close and pushing you back to the bottom of the staircase.

“but mom! i’m hungry and there might not have any cookies left if you keep giving it to them-” you were cut off with hendery’s pats.

he brushed his hair. sighing, he had to shoo you away because you were clearly attracting eyes, definitely not the decent kind. “i have a jar prepared for you m’lady so please.. get dressed!”

you quickly ran up as you were told, mumbling and complaining. jaehyun and his friends were definitely at a loss for words. because not only were you careless, you were oblivious too.

mark scrunched his nose to start a conversation with jaehyun. “looks like she called you ‘hubby’ too quickly.” he closed his lips to contain his laugh.

“pfft jae your ears really are honest huh?” johnny pointed at them as he held his chest, fistbumping mark for another win.

he wasn’t going to tell them that he in fact did find you pretty, and the thing was, he shouldn’t be giving a reaction too soon. “it’s the spicy chocolate cookie!” jaehyun defended.

“huh, i didn’t bake any cookie with those flavour-” hendery pondered, but he stopped since he spotted jaehyun begging to help him here.

“you know that we know if you’re lying right?” the two squinted eyes, putting more pressure to the boy to admit what he felt when he saw you earlier. “bet ya felt something.”

afraid that your family could hear them, jaehyun grabbed their shoulders to huddle them in close. he cleared his throat to catch their attention, yet his friends continued their giggles. “i swear if you both embarrass me in front of the y/f/n’s, consider the days with your precious.. phones.”

“ah c’mon dude. don’t do that. we bought our i12’s together-” mark whined.

“then at least help me out here guys. i have a reputation to hold-”

“oh for being her hubby?” johnny gave a playful grin and soon was replaced with a nervous smile. “okay i’ll zip it.”

he heard your mother facetiming his mom, voices loud enough for him to know that there would be a huge gathering at christmas eve dinner. great, another one i have to deal with.

jaehyun put down his beanie and crossed his arms to snooze for a bit. he had too much going on in his head the whole day that maybe sleeping it off would let him calm down from all feelings he felt tonight. on the sofa, the weight beside him lowered, the scent of freshly baked cookies along with lavender perfume got him peeking under his beanie.

it was you, who looked like a squirrel happily munching away with your jar of cookies whilst eyes glued to the television.

he smiled a little to himself. so you can have this cute side-

fragments of sue’s face appeared in his mind. right. he was supposed to be heartbroken. he still was. a week into the breakup had remains to his heart. bothered with sue’s ultimatum and your annoying munches, he grabbed your wrists and out at the veranda.

it pissed him because it seemed like he was the only one who cared about both of your futures or actually would do something to change your families’ minds, where as you were carefree with your cookies. “hey!” you held the jar tight in your arms as you quickly slid your feet into your slippers. “rude! i’m eating!”

the rest of the people in the dining and kitchen area grew voices of woohoo’s, jaehyun’s pupils flared at their cheers. “just come with me for a second!” he hissed, turning the knob and closing the door.

“seriously jaehyun you can’t just ruin my happy time! what do you want-”

he looked in between the curtains from the outside, where he could faintly hear his friends talking the embarrassing things about him— especially how he felt for this arrange marriage. “aren’t you pressured or angry at the situation our parents have put us into?” he leaned against a column. “even my friends are joining the wagon.”

you cackled whilst scrolling your phone. “here i thought you only cared about animals, dr. jeong.” hearing how jaehyun scoffed at your comment, you shoved your device in your pockets. “and yes of course i’m mad! what they decided is so against my will.”

jaehyun stared at you and surprised that he actually felt exactly the same. “really? then let’s make a pact. sounds good?” he offered with arms folded while you still were occupied with your phone. “well?”

“why would i listen to you? as far as i know, we already clashed and hate each other.” you rolled your eyes. “what makes you think i’ll agree?”

he sighed. “y/n, i know you don’t want this, i don’t too. at least there’s something we have in common. i’m just thinking that we have to show them we’re not meant to be together. we both have lives we want to live without the other.”

there was a change in his voice. you could tell he was serious and trying to suggest something he’d want you to agree on. “fine, what’s the pact?” you gave an uninterested tone. probably a bad idea, you thought.

“like you said, ‘clash and hate each other’. we have exactly twenty four days to convince them that you, me, us?” he pointed at his chest then yours. “is impossible. twenty four days, it’s until the night of christmas eve.”

actually that’s not bad at all. “hm, that’s easy since i can’t stand you.” you said, now standing up to face him. “even better if we can do this in less than 24.”

“cool, we have to make our fights as natural as possible. no signals or heads-up. full-on make me angry and i’ll do the same. the more we argue the more they’ll believe there’ll never be an ‘us’.” his voice a bit lively than before. “i want my buds to be fooled into this too. just be realistic and- nghf!”

you shoved a huge cookie into his mouth. “tsk, you’re noisy. i get you so shut up. i agreed with the pact, but i have conditions, okay?”

jaehyun nodded as he chewed angrily with his eyes closed, though the cookies’ taste might’ve simmered down his temper towards you. “ha, then i have conditions too-”

“see you in the morning.” he heard you say as the door slammed with the attached bell ringing his ears.

now that was one of his conditions; no interrupting while he talks. he sighed seeing you head up the stairs. he sighed. “ugh, i can never marry a girl like her.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

stretching as high as you can, the muscles loosened in every part of your body from riding yesterday. the sun shone its brightest despite the cold weather. you remembered the pact and you knew you would not let a day pass without bothering him. somehow his existence annoyed you to the bone, not even words were enough to explain how you felt.

at the farthest point your peripheral could reach, you spotted jaehyun peacefully— and actually enjoying— the hammock whilst faintly you heard mark and johnny debating which pronunciation was the correct one. fixing your boots as you walked towards them, the two scurried off to the side, noticing the stomps of your feet getting closer.

“get up.” you wriggled the hammock, causing it to be lop-sided.

jaehyun managed to balance himself from the swings. “what the-” his voice hitched. “you’re ruining my relax time!”

you pretended to ponder as you looked up to the sky. “hm, sounds awfully familiar, doesn’t it?” referring to his sudden action towards you the night prior.

“seriously y/n what do you want? i’m in no mood to do work today and i clearly told you last night-” jaehyun fixed his eyes onto your finger that silenced his lips.

jaehyun raised a brow and rolled his eyes. what was your deal? he thought. “condition number one.” you started, bringing your voice down. “starting today you’ll do the work for me and with me. considering you’re taking veterinary science, i’m guessing you know your ways through equine husbandry. so in the coming days you can check the horses’ health while i practice my rounds.”

ah, so that’s what this was about. “uh-huh, but my condition number one is you shouldn’t make me do labour unless you really need it.” jaehyun got off the hammock, chugging his glass of water like it’s one-shot. “it’s the first light, y/n. my service starts in the afternoon.”

“i see. you’re not a morning person.” you checked your nails.

“i so am! but it’s my month long vacation. let me enjoy this before i experience exploitation from you.” he forced a smile that made you want to push him off the veranda.

you walked down the steps and straight to the barn opposite from your house. “it’s either exploitation today or exploitation for the whole month.” you singsonged while you twirled in your stance. hearing him growl meant your tactic worked. “i’ll let you experience the beauty of country side, city boy.”

jaehyun’s brows narrowed as he followed you anyway, later looking back at his friends who were stifling a laugh. “did you just compare me to feces first thing in the morning?”

“did you just boggle up my brain with scientific terms?” you hid a giggle when you heard his friends finally bursting out and losing it. because they too, experienced jaehyun’s sudden blabber of uncommon usage of words, especially conversational-wise. “i made a pun but it seems like you acknowledge the nickname.”

“i did not!” jaehyun pressed his temples. “i may have misheard you but i didn’t acknowledge it! you’re too assuming!”

“mhm sure.. but you are stepping on one though.” you whistled and gestured mark and johnny to the stables.

jaehyun grumbled as he checked the soles of his shoes. indeed he stepped on it and licked his lips in annoyance that it’d be hard to clean it off. the door opened and hendery’s morning face only turned sour at the unsightly view. he tossed another pair of spare boots for him to wear before they both headed to where you all were.

hendery introduced the things they do here; feed the horses, fix their saddles repair them if damaged. they were minor things since your family did hire people to do them. and since you and him were professionals in equine sports, he mentioned you both spend all days practicing.

good, if it was you who toured him around the area, he wouldn’t think lasting a day with your intentions of ruining his mood. though it was part of the pact, it seemed like you enjoyed this a lot more than he expected. hendery brought him to places your family owned, land properties that expanded until the mountains. it’s no wonder you were free to roam around and unafraid of getting lost.

you made him do a lot. and he was glad he was able to handle, thank heavens. however he didn’t feel much of a challenge from any of them, where you claimed they were ones he couldn’t do. jaehyun lost track of time, the sky was his only companion to tell the hours and probably lost count of the tasks too. all he could remember was the endless bickering, yells and frequent eye rolls.

in all those, he still let you off the hook— first day of work and all, he has to be patient. and he wasn’t bothered with what you tasked him to do, until his friends stood behind you as you showed them the rest of the horses.

after you told him to move the bundles of hay he thought was the last, you were currently trying to make mark pet the horses as they were bobbing their heads towards the young man while johnny recorded his reaction.

“isn’t she all well now.” jaehyun rolled his eyes as he helped hendery lift the infinite bundles. “my friends get the leisure and i have to work?”

hendery laughed as he unbuttoned his collar. “she was told by her mom that you’ll be in her care since you both will get married eventually. plus mrs. y/f/n said it’s a way to get to know y/n too.” he explained, seeing you walk towards them with a hay cart, hands signalling your childhood friend to get some bundles from you. the final bundles were finally fed to the horses, and you skipped your feet to fetch jaehyun.

jaehyun knew you had intentions to make fun of him because the way you walked really pissed him off. so he decided to have his fun too. ”are you that weak you’re unable to carry a small patch? guess my hourly pay needs an increase.” he low-key flexed his muscles. truthfully speaking it was a sight to look at, too bad his attitude didn’t match it.

you rested on one leg while you look at him. he was testing the waters with you, smile slowly resurfacing as you gave even the slightest reaction towards him. oh it’s on. he annoyed you yesterday and would be a lot more in the next coming days. jaehyun leaned forwards that he was towering over you. his body made you feel small but that didn’t stop you from getting back at him.

“the only thing increasing for you is workload.” you hummed, putting back the cart into its place.

he glared at you as if you were dead meat. you ignored him. “i’ve had enough for today. muscles are sore.” hands in his pockets, jaehyun kicked the remains of hay off his shoes before he was stopped by you. “ugh you’re so annoying.” he clicked his tongue.

“nope, you’re not done until i am. we have to find materials for christmas wreaths at my grandpa’s up north.” you pointed at the mountains as you took hendery’s hands and soon mounted on jet with him.

“oh and i’m supposed to walk there while you’re so relaxed miss bossy?” jaehyun shook his head in disbelief looking at the distance.

“uh yes?” you laughed to yourself. “i don’t think you’ve ever ridden a horse before, but if ever you did, it’s probably at a carnival.”

sudden outbursts of emotions evident on his face now. “was i born under a rock? of course i’ve ridden!” he took the reins given to him by hendery. “and it’s not a carousel!”

for a while he had a certain confidence, his soles stepping on the stirrup and dimples deepening with the strength he gave to put his right leg over. but once that was done and high up off the ground, his heart beat an army per second. cash, hendery’s horse gave loud neigh. jaehyun had done this before as a child and definitely felt like one now. he should be able to handle a 30-minute journey.

jaehyun heard you giggling, perhaps he knew how hideous he looked. despite hendery seated behind you, you led the way for the most part of the ride. you were surprised to see jaehyun have gotten the hang of it. it pissed you a lot because he was vlogging with his phone— sputtering out words to keep the diss battle going. johnny and mark hopped on the available bikes, cycling on your sides, and their laughter rather calmed you than annoy you.

it pissed you a lot more because you’ve practically ran out of ideas to tell him in return. keeping quiet wasn’t your forte, you were a young woman with plenty of things to say, even more so to jaehyun. going through the woods, you signalled hendery to halt the horse for you and the rest of the boys followed you to gather the materials needed.

“this shouldn’t be too long to take.” jaehyun looked at the trees towering meters above him, then straight to you who was shaking head in disbelief. “we’re just taking the materials at your grandfather’s and head back, right?”

“did i mention my granddad?” you balanced yourself on large wood log. the tone of your voice started to warm up with bickers you weren’t able to tell him.

“you did!” jaehyun anticipated this and somehow he didn’t. “now lead the way to his place and we can get the hell out of here.” his eyes grew squints of disgust at his surroundings, as if he hadn’t been into the forest before. his friends went on ahead with hendery around the woods to look for what’s needed.

“nah, we’re picking acorns, pine cones, berries and other leaves by hand. his cottage is just around here but that doesn’t mean the materials are from him. let’s go, whiney.”

“oh my g-” jaehyun pulled you on the arm and off you went towards him. “y/n i’ve had enough for today and i’m so tired of taking your orders- i’m physically tired of doing things your way and i can’t think straight-”

“pecans?” you said as his eyes crossed to see your palms full of the shelled nuts. “you’re hungry, aren’t you? that’s why you’re so cranky and agitate-y.” placing one but onto a flat rock, you smashed it strong enough for it to crack yet not totally destroying the inside. you popped one into your mouth and gave the most taunting grin jaehyun has seen from you all day.

he was about to grab the rest of the nuts until you swung your arm that he wasn’t able to reach them. “y/n! give me some!” he yelled and the rest of your friends look at you both after hearing you laugh in the most evil manner.

“never!” you scurried off deeper into the woods. jaehyun rolled his eyes not at how fast you were, but due to how slow he actually was because of the amount of disgust he had.

he knew this would take all day and he didn’t know how long his patience can take for another three weeks with you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

jaehyun couldn’t describe in words with what he experienced since arriving. if he had to compare with school, it was similar to studying and cramming for hours non-stop. it gotten him mentally exhausted, physically too. but the only difference between being cooping up in his room and doing work outdoors was the continuous nagging from you.

it was far from quiet. he could handle his mom’s high pitched yells. but you? anything that came from you or done by you made him want to plaster a duck tape on your lips. you were as annoying as a five year old child who looked for someone vulnerable to bully. unfortunately he became your prey because he was in your lands. and though there were times he was able to banter back, he always felt you still had the upper hand.

it was all sunny and good days out in the countryside and jaehyun found that fact the only bright side. he enjoyed it every single morning. yet sometimes good sunny mornings meets its bad, that is, when grey clouds destroyed the beauty of the sky. in this case, it was you. you were far from his dream girl— sue. she was elegant, poised and had a heart of gold. you were the complete opposite who’d rather be rogue and do things your way. other than completing ten christmas wreaths and feeding the horses or more farm work, he couldn’t remember what he did for the past eight days because all that entered his mind was the dictator you.

but today he felt different, maybe things wouldn’t be as hard than last week. he felt good. he sat at the long dining table with all morning faces exposed. it was currently 7 a.m and your mom have already prepared breakfast. and per usual, you were the only one they waited for before they start the first meal.

“marg, is your sister still asleep?” your mother put down a large casserole to warm up everyone’s stomach in winter.

marg only shrugged because for one, she didn’t care, and two, she stated that it wouldn’t be her doing this since jaehyun was marrying you. “oh jaehyun. please do head upstairs to her room and awake y/n up.”

“and why do i have to do this?” jaehyun mumbled to himself and johnny nudged him on the arm. he groaned and got up, his stomps were heavy and unwilling.

once he was in front of your door, he knocked twice loudly so he wouldn’t have to spend so much time to get you. there was a small tune playing in your room, like it was from a music box. the door was already opened. he peeped through the thin gap, seeing you still sleeping soundly. goodness’ sake, he thought, and entered the room since your mother was asking if he woken you up.

your room was in fact, neat. all things were organised and arranged. if there was one thing he learned from you other than being an ass, was that you loved stuffed animals. not a hint of dolls or barbies or any toy displayed related to that spectrum. two lines of medals displayed and they all shone in gold. plaques had your names and young portraits of you with smiles of victory. hendery wasn’t lying when he said you were a professional. he wasn’t going to lie— you were impressive despite the little horns coming out of your head.

he stood next to your bed where you were all bundled in a huge blanket. he raised a brow, it was strange for you to have two thick blankets covering you. “hey y/n.”

no response.

“y/n. wake up, your mom is calling for breakfast and you’re usually the first one seated at the table.” he wriggled your body with the butt of the umbrella and you didn’t budge.

“she baked croissants and aren’t they your favourite? dipped in chocolate ganache and sprinkles?” he tried sounding happy. note that, he tried.

this girl.. he bit the insides of his lips, spotting the markers in a cylinder container and took one to begin drawing on your face. his soft giggles filled your room and the strong scent of markers met your nostrils, waking you from your slumber.

“what the he- jaehyun?!” you hissed at how close his face was to yours, failed to realising he was done drawing on your morning skin. “get away from me!”

everyone downstairs could hear the both of you, arguing like cats and dogs. each footstep might’ve covered the entire floor above them and the ceiling could give in.

“you ruined my morning with your ugly face!” “what?! you’re more ugly, ugly!” “you entered my room?! you have no rights!” “breakfast’s ready and your mom asked me to!” “well my nose could’ve smelled mom’s food but i smelled your stinky breath instead!”

“whatever, i finished your share of croissants!” jaehyun quickly head down the staircase.

“you dare eat my food?!” you still had a blanket from head to toe as you followed him down. “no one takes my food!”

“your loss since you’re still in bed you lazy ass!” jaehyun sat beside johnny and continued his meal. “and you were snoring loud too-”

“i did not- agh!” you grumpily sat and immediately eyed the last croissant sitting at the center of the table. all eyes were on you with black ink scribbled on your face.

there was an awkward silence then you felt jaehyun’s stare at the only food you wanted for breakfast. there was a back and forth battle of stares between you, him and the food. maybe it was the slow reflexes you have in mornings that jaehyun took the bread before you did. he stuck out a tongue as he deliciously ate half of it, chewing slowly just to let you imagine the flavours of sweet silky chocolate. you could feel yourself drooling and the cravings of your stomach rising up to your throat. every chew he did was a stab to your guilty-pleasure heart.

jaehyun stopped and gave a smug grin. “you wanted this y/n?” his question sounding a song rather than an honest one. “all you have to do is beg.”

you gulped, rolling your eyes. “shut up!” you kicked his knee out of jealousy and savoured the soup instead.

“ow!” he hissed through a laugh and looked at your mom. “mrs. y/f/n, i’d like to know the recipe for this. do you give lessons?” jaehyun licked the remains of chocolate around his lips, hopefully it was enough to cover up the violence you did under the table.

your mother giggled at his sweet talk. “why learn it from me when you have y/n to teach you?”

you choked on your soup and tear your gaze away from jaehyun to your mother, where she was already enjoying your shocked reaction. “oh give me a private lesson, bulldog terrier.” he propped his chin and mimicked clicks as if he was calling animal.

you quickly touched and rubbed your face to see the ink contaminate your fingers. the spoon reflected the dark circle around your right eye. “oh my g- you! this will be hard to remove!” the fork around your hand pointed directly at him.

“y/n!” hendery put down your wrists as jaehyun laughed loud. you took the wet wipes marg gave you and whined a little whilst you stood by the mirror behind jaehyun.

“don’t be so bummed out honey.” your mom assured, giving a wink to jaehyun. “it’s a small prank. marg did it to you before.”

checking yourself for the last time at the mirror, you rolled your eyes. “i have enough patience for marg,” with one hand you cupped jaehyun’s lower face from the chin spreading to the cheeks, soon pinching hard on his dimples with a pointer finger and thumb. “but none for the human bread.”

“ow don’t touch me!” jaehyun swifted his head to look at you and he saw you flashed a smile like you were satisfied.

“a human bread with molds. ew, i lost appetite so i’ll be out for a ride.” you stood up to grab your coat. “see ya ugly.”

“remember to you have to clean the barn house y/n!” your mom called out.

“yeah got that!”

johnny and mark bent their heads down and let their friends suffer from multiple dots on his faces. what made it funnier was that jaehyun munched happily on his meal, hadn’t gotten a single clue. he then eyed you when you passed the window and straight to the stables. “isn’t it too early for practice?” he drank his cup of hot chocolate.

“she can ride all day. sometimes she doesn’t arrive home and the next morning you see her sleeping in the barn house.” marg tied her hair into a high bun. “the amount of dedication is there, except the passion she used to have isn’t really there anymore- hey!” she glared at hendery who gave her a warning look.

what was that all about? jaehyun thought while his eyebrows met together and good thing it wasn’t obvious to your family. he was indeed curious, but he’d rather hear it from you than to look like a jerk who wanted to gossip about personal lives. the thing was, it’s you. though majority of the week was him suffering with workload, he liked to bicker with you until you gave up and had nothing to say.

so far he recorded as 5-11 in terms of owning the other. the latter was his score and he was proud of it.

hendery’s phone vibrated and slid it to jaehyun’s place. jaehyun blinked to adjust his sight to the brightness of the phone. a sigh came out of his lips and the rest of them could tell it was another order from you. “ooh that doesn’t sound good.” mark slurped his soup.

“it’s not.” jaehyun brushed his hair and hesitation slowly crept his body. “she asked me to clean the upper floor of the barn by the time she arrives.”

—

jaehyun massaged his wrists by twisting them. he looked at the barn house’ entrance because he noticed a figure approaching. you’ve had the best morning after jaehyun ruined it. as you rode, nothing beats the freshness of the cool wind. you love riding through the woods and grasslands. it sets you free from everything keeping you caged. your smile began to falter when you saw jaehyun who was not even halfway close to finishing. “you’re late. your mom had to apologise on your behalf because i’m doing the job for you.”

“ooh thanks! i’ll count on it!” you laid comfortably on a chair.

“hey!”

you leaned against the furniture, arms crossed where he was a floor above and standing at your 2 o’clock view. “dr. jeong it looks like you’re having a hard time. need help?” you stifled a laugh because he still has the ink marks you left on his face.

“on with the assumptions again, aren’t we?” he fixed his gloves and moved wooden planks from one place to another.

“yeah you make yourself too easy of a target, jaehyun. and i thought you’re the type to not take things seriously.” you tied jet’s reins to a pole.

“you’re forgetting my condition number two, you can only badmouth me if the others are around. now get your flat butt up here and move the tool box aside so i can continue what i’m doing.” he grunted whilst lifting.

dusting your pants, you were now standing a storey high. the sight of the height below you made you sick. jaehyun nudged your arm and you took the items blocking his way. you sighed and he noticed how fidgety you were. he put up a small smile. his entertainment from you didn’t end at the breakfast table.

he scooted closer to you, pretending to bump into you with the pile of tall wooden planks in his arms. he heard you hiss, and that was the signal to begin. “oops didn’t see you there shorty.” there was a change in his voice, a more aggressive type of approach.

“you’re doing that on purpose.” you checked the pained area of your forearm.

“what if i’m not? it could be an honest mistake.” he tilted his head away from the wood to see you.

a held-in soft disbelief laugh came out of your lips. “honesty doesn’t really blend in well with you.”

jaehyun gasped with arched brows. “wow i’m very offended— you think this face..” he largely gestured himself. “would ever lie?”

“if you want to hear me saying you’re handsome.. it’s not happening.“ you took the rope to hang on a nail.

“but you did say it.” he singsonged and you could push him off the loft but that could only happen in your head.

“then that’s an honest mistake.” you flashed a forced smile at him. you carried the boxes stacked upon one another. “if you have a huge ego like that i bet you never dated. no girl would ever date you.”

jaehyun fell silent, his mood to bash you suddenly changed. the shifts in his steps became heavier and as if he was putting his anger upon them. he didn’t like being reminded of sue, even if you unconsciously did so. “can’t you just keep quiet as you work? do you always have something to say? keep your damn mouth shut if you think all the fun you get is from belittling people.”

“okay sheesh sorry i didn’t know you have a heart for people too.” you removed your helmet to relieve the discomfort from it.

as time passed— two hours to be exact, the more your guilt begin to seep in you. jaehyun never spoke after that. silence was like death at this point. not a hint of sniffs and sighs from him. did you go too far that he actually chose not to talk anymore? all you thought about was the pact he suggested. what now? anyone could appear any moment.

this wasn’t like you at all. you hesitated to talk to him and to give the first move to bicker. you stood there staring at him piling boxes after boxes and sweeping the floor where dust accumulated like piles of sand. you bit your lips because screw this, you hated this atmosphere, you hated this silent treatment. “j-jaehyun?” you called out.

nothing.

“hey-”

“hm? guilt eating you up now?” you froze at his voice as he chuckled. “it has, hasn’t it? look at your face!” he was laughing, his hands holding his ballooning stomach. “y/n you should’ve seen yourself!”

your gaze followed his hands that quickly took his phone placed at one corner. he was recording and your obliviousness blinded you. “oh you have no idea how much i wanted to laugh! my cheeks hurt so bad! hahaha!”

“you’re not using that to blackmail me!” you strided towards him.

he put his arm high as you struggled to reach it. “i might as well do that thanks for the idea!” faintly you heard his friends coming to check as to why their friend had the laughter of the century, only to find you both bickering again like this morning.

“delete that video jaehyun! i mean it!” “not until you agree to clean the loft!” “that’s like telling me to do everything!” “then that’s exactly what i’m telling you to do!”

johnny put up his phone to recording the struggling you and jaehyun enjoying his time to take advantage of his height. “dude i’ve never seen jaehyun this happy since sue broke up with him.”

“yeah his dimples are legit showing it’s scary me.” mark squinted at the two of you.

jaehyun swung his arms to avoid your attempted catches. he scrunched his nose and although that was undeniably cute, you couldn’t afford to feel humiliated for another two weeks. “jaehyun please delete it!”

“it’s not convincing enough you know?” “stop joking around we could fall!” you hissed. “fall?! then stop trying to get my phone!” “then put down your ridiculously long arm!” “yours are just too short!” “i swear— delete the footage!”

“you have to sound like you beg for it—” he cackled and with a few stretches you managed to reach his wrists as you lunged forwards. “oi stop!” that one last reach only made jaehyun lose his balance and fell backwards.

and all you heard were yells of worry.

to say that you both gladly fell on soft pillows of hay was an understatement. at least that what it looked like to your friends. jaehyun was shocked, his arm felt numb. he took a good look at you and there you were laying on his arm with pale lips. “hey, you okay?” his hands were already out to help you. “y/n—”

“m’lady!” hendery rushed to you, causing jaehyun to flinch at the tone of his voice. he gently took your right arm, but you gritted your teeth and asked him to take the left. “painful?”

“not that serious.” you said, feeling the stares from jaehyun. “ew don’t look at me like that. i’m fine, really. let’s just call it a day.” you gave a small smile and he wasn’t buying it.

because jaehyun saw you clung onto hendery for dear life.

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