Fucking Noah Wyle. Okay, I need help. Here's my thing. I find an obsession, make it my whole life, and once I have absorbed the media I search for fanfic to explore my obsession further.
Fucking Noah Wyle. Fell in love with that asshole in The Pitt (how dare he be perfect with those big brown eyes son of a bitch), and yes I have found some fics but not enough b/c it's new. It's getting there.
SO I MOVED TO OTHER SHOWS. ER. Fell in love with John Carter. Minimal fics. Falling Skies. Fell in love with Tom Mason. There's like no fics of him. Leverage: Redemption. Fell in love with Harry Wilson. No fics. When I tell you I am foaming at the fucking mouth for a singular fic. Please dear God help me. Reader or OC, I don't care. I JUST NEED SOMETHING. PLEASE. I'M CLAWING AT THE WALLS FOAMING AT THE MOUTH SCREECHING INTO THE NIGHT.
If I don't find something I'm gonna have to write something and I do not have the time for that please someone give me recs before I lose my shit.
Summary: To keep your cover, you and Harry have to use a tried and true method; one that leaves the both of you questioning your friendship.
Tags: First Kiss, Fluff, Fake Dating, Confession
Warnings: Canon-typical danger, canon-typical swearing, mild angst (denial of feelings), very vague innuendos
Word Count: 1.8K
âThose records have to be somewhere.â You tell Harry, searching through the filing cabinet as he clicks through the computer on the large, maple desk.
âAny help, Breanna?â Harry asks over comms, eyes scanning over the hundreds of files on the markâs desktop, feeling a bit overwhelmed.
âSorry guys, that computerâs on a separate network. Canât access it. Hence the need to actually break into his office, old school.â Breannaâs voice comes through your earbuds, and you can hear her typing away on the other line, monitoring and looping camera feeds.
The party downstairs has provided good cover so far, Sophie managing to keep the mark away from his office by chatting him up over a glass of champagne. You and Harry had to sneak away after the party commenced, both wearing your formal clothes, and get into the office unseen. Wasnât too hard to dodge patrols, but now the two of you had an indeterminate amount of time before a security guard stuck his head into the office to check up on everything.
âI think I got something.â Harry says, managing to sort through some of the recently opened files. He plugs in the USB drive, quickly copying what he needs onto it.
âMe too.â You pull out a file, flipping through it and taking pictures.
Bingo.
âUh, guys? I hate to break up the party, but youâre going to have company in about 30 seconds.â Breanna warns.
Harry straightens up quickly, slipping the USB into his pocket, and you return the file and shut the filing cabinet.
âWe donât have enough time to get out of here unseen.â You say, turning to Harry. âDo you trust me?â
âOf course.â He answers quickly.
âThen go along with me.â You knock a few things off the desk, hopping up on it and grabbing the front of his blazer to pull him in.
âPut your hands on me.â You command him, and his eyes widen.
âWhat?â
âJust-â You yank him roughly, and he stumbles, nearly knocking you backwards as he braces his hands on either sides of your hips, standing between your thighs. Before he can back up, you crash your lips against his, a hand wrapping around his tie and the other hand running through his hair.
Heâs surprised, at first, completely caught off guard by the suddenly passionate gesture, but heâs not an idiot. He figures out the game once he recovers from the shock, and wraps his arms around your waist, trying to be convincing but respectful as he kisses you back.
Itâs easy to get lost like this, you realize. You thought this would be awkward, but your thoughts of possible discomfort are quickly dispelled as his body slots against yours, his hands splaying across your back as he continues to kiss you with a desperation that genuinely surprises you. Itâs almost like he needs this. But even more surprising? You think you might need this too, as you catch yourself leaning deeper into the kiss and pulling on his tie, a gasp escaping his lips. Enough to make anyone flush.
âExcuse me?â
You pull away suddenly, as does Harry, breaking the spell. Youâre both incredibly flushed, lips slightly red. Harryâs hair is a bit messy from where you ran your hand through it, sticking out at odd angles. You look over your shoulder as Harry looks past you, meeting the gaze of a very awkward guard.
âOh! Sorry, we were just trying toâŠwell.â You smile and clear your throat. âTrying to find somewhere quiet.â
âWell, you canât be in here.â The guard says firmly, trying not to stare, but trying to be assertive. He doesn't seem like he's used to this. Must be a newer hire.
âWeâll get out, then,â Harry says breathlessly, nodding to you and swallowing thickly. He backs up, letting you get off the desk. Harry offers you his arm, and the two of you quickly walk past the guard and out the door, steering back towards the party.
As you both return, you glance over at Harry. Your eyes widen; his hair is still a mess. You gesture to him, glancing up at his hair and hoping he gets the message. He flushes slightly, running a quick hand through his hair to flatten it back down, and readjusts his tie to make it look a little less like you just had a make-out session. A fake make-out session. Right?
Sophie spots the two of you from across the room and smiles knowingly, raising her glass of champagne to you and winking.
âThereâs no way she knows.â Harry says softly. âRight?â
âComms. They all heard everything.â You respond, not trying to embarrass him more, but you knew that it would be an unintended side effect.
âThat we did. Yâall nasty.â Breanna says, and you can practically hear the expression on her face.
âIt worked, didnât it?â You say, fixing your own hair. âWe got out of there.â
âYeah.â Harry agrees, clearing his throat. You can feel his eyes lingering on you, but you try to ignore him. Now is not the time, nor the place.
The rest of the party goes off without a hitch. Sophie gets the information she needed, and you and Harry manage to make off with the files safely. It's late when everyone gets back to HQ, and you find yourself just wanting to get out of these clothes and into the shower as you ascend the stairs.
Harry follows you up. "Hey, can we talk?" He requests quietly so the others can't hear. You pause on the stairs. "In private?" He specifies.
"Sure," You tell him, continuing up the stairs. He takes that as a signal to follow you, walking with you to your room. You let him in and then close the door behind you both, hopefully discouraging eavesdroppers. "What?"
"What do you mean, what?" Harry says, placing his hands on his hips. "Don't you feel like we need to talk about this?"
"No, I don't." You tell him, walking past him and over to your dresser to get out comfortable clothes.
"But that was... I mean, it was..." Harry struggled to find the words.
"It was what we had to do to get out of there. For the con." You say dismissively, pulling out a shirt and shorts. You don't look at him as you speak, because you know that if you do, he's going to make you confront this. You're going to have to confront this.
"So that's it?" Harry asks, and you can hear the slight hurt in his voice that pulls at your heart. "We pretend like that didn't happen?"
"It happened, Harry, but that's it. That's all." You tell him, shutting the drawer harder than you meant to. "We're friends. Just friends."
"Just friends. Right." Harry shakes his head, scoffing slightly. "I don't believe you."
"Believe what you want." You finally look up at him, trying to steel yourself.
"You're telling me you didn't feel anything at all?" Harry asks incredulously.
"I'm telling you it doesn't matter what we felt." You say firmly.
"So you felt something." Harry's eyes narrow slightly, and you feel as though he can see right through you.
"I don't know what I felt."
"Bullshit. You know exactly what that was and you don't want to admit it." He holds your gaze, and you can tell he's trying to read you. Trying to figure you out.
"Okay, fine. I enjoyed it. It felt good. Is that what you wanted to hear?" You ask him, crossing your arms.
"If it's the truth."
"It is the truth."
Tense silence settles over the two of you for a moment.
"I liked it too." Harry blurts out. He takes a deep breath. "I liked kissing you. A lot."
You kind of assumed that.
"I care about you, Harry." You tell him. "I care about our friendship. I don't want to ruin that."
"I care about our friendship, too." He responds. "But I can't just pretend I didn't feel what I felt. You might be able to forget and move on, but I can't."
"I can't forget." You say quietly, and it's true. These past few hours you've thought about that kiss more than is probably healthy. You've always been a bit distracted by him, but this is truly a new level of disturbance.
"Then why don't we try this?" Harry steps closer, gesturing between the two of you.
"What even is this?"
"I don't know!" Harry smiles, shaking his head. "That's what I want to find out. I haven't felt this way in a while, and I'd really like to explore that with you."
"Aren't you afraid?" You ask him, meeting his gaze. You want the truth from him.
"Of course I'm afraid." He says, reaching out and taking your hand. "I'm downright terrified. I don't want to lose you."
"I am too." You admit. "I don't want to lose you either. But...but I'm curious. I want to explore these feelings with you."
Harry's face breaks into a wide smile, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. "Good. Do you want to get dinner, then? Sometime?"
"How about when this job is over?"
"Okay." He nods, releasing your hand. "Probably for the best. We're practically on call every waking hour until this guy goes down."
You let your hand fall, and quickly find yourself missing the warmth from his hand on yours.
"Well...goodnight." Harry says, slightly awkward and unsure as he heads to the door.
"Harry, wait." You follow him, and he turns around just as he reaches the door.
You grab his face gently and press a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to heat up quickly. He looks at you with surprise at the sudden, gentle gesture, and you find yourself not wanting to let go of his face.
"Thank you," Harry says softly, hands coming up to rest over yours on his face. "That's probably not the appropriate response to a kiss." He says, a slight realization dawning in his gaze as he sighs. "I'm not very good at this, am I?'
"On the contrary, I think you were doing quite good earlier." You tease him gently, watching the tips of his ears go red. You watch his Adam's Apple bob as he swallows thickly, acutely aware of how close your body is to his. "Perhaps you'd consider an encore?"
Harry's eyes widened slightly and he nodded. "Yes, I would. I would."
"We'll have to see where dinner takes us." You give him a quick peck on the lips, unable to resist, before you release his face. "Goodnight, Harry."
"Goodnight." He takes that as his cue to leave and quickly opens the door. He gives you a sheepish smile and an awkward little wave before shutting the door behind himself.
It's something new and unexpected, and you can't help but be excited for dinner as you gather up your things to shower. Hopefully, the job won't take much longer. You're not sure how long you can wait.
Heavy footsteps echo down the hall behind you as you turn corners in the maze-like corridors. Eliot keeps pace beside you, glancing behind him before turning his focus forward, quickening his stride.
"Hardison, we need a place to hide, now!" Eliot says urgently as you speed up to walk beside him.
"Just punch your way through them?" Hardison offers, speaking over comms.
"He can't. If these goons get a look at us, they're going to blow our cover-" You speak quickly, keeping your voice low.
"I'm hearing you both, I'm trying to find a spot, this place is like a labyrinth- aha!" Hardison's voice comes through your earbud, loud and triumphant. "Take two quick lefts, and then there should be a door on your right. There isn't a camera in there, it's probably a storage room or something."
"Roger." You respond, obeying Hardison's instructions. The door has a card reader, and you quickly put to use the ID card you lifted from an employee at the party earlier. The reader flashes green and the lock clicks, and you grab the handle and pull the door open.
âCâmon.â You yank Eliot into the room with hardly a glance, and he pulls the door shut behind him, knocking into you as the lock clicks again. Your back hits the shelves behind you.
Shit.
Thereâs hardly room to breathe in here as darkness envelops both of you. Youâre trapped between the shelves in the back of the closet and Eliot.
âCan you give me a little space?â You whisper, unsure of where to put your hands and deciding to just brace them on the shelf behind you.
âMy back is right up against the door, I donât have anywhere to go.â Eliot whispers back, his breath warm on your ear as his long hair tickles the tip of your nose.
The footsteps grow closer outside and you and Eliot go silent, and you instinctively hold your breath. The only sound filling the small space is Eliotâs slow, measured breaths, barely audible but there nonetheless. Muffled voices can be heard through the door, but it isnât long until the footsteps start to fade. You and Eliot wait a moment longer before you hear Eliotâs hand on the handle, jiggling it. He curses.
âWhat?â You whisper to him.
âLocked. Locked from the outside.â Eliot grumbles back quietly. âHardison?â
The earbuds crackle softly, but thereâs no response.
âWeâve got ourselves a little tiny dead zone.â You sigh, shutting your eyes. Not that it changes anything, with how dark it is. You trying not to think about how close the walls are, trying to reign in your racing heart. âGreat.â
âHardison knows where we are. The others have got to notice we havenât come out sooner or later.â Eliot says quietly, leaning back as much as he can to give space. It doesnât really work.
âIn the meantime, what? We sit in here? In this tiny closet?â
âI donât think there is room to sit.â
âHelpful.â
You try to keep yourself calm in this tight space, taking deep, steady breaths that are quickly becoming shakier and shallower.
"Hey, you alright?" Eliot's voice is low and quiet, and you can feel him shifting in the dark.
"Fine, fine." You mumble unconvincingly, wishing you could fidget right about now, but trying to stay as still as you can.
"Are you claustrophobic?" Eliot asks. It's hard to read his tone.
"Not usually. But when I'm trapped in a space, I just kind of- I can't-" Your breathing is quickly getting out of control.
"Hey, hey, don't starting freaking out on me, okay? It's alright. The room isn't sealed, we've got plenty of air." Eliot reaches out, laying a hand on your shoulder.
You shake your head. You know that, logically, but it doesn't change the fact that you're gasping for air, heart pounding in your chest. You need to get out of here, and you need to get out of here now.
"Breathe with me, can you do that? Just in..." Eliot takes a deep breath in. "And out." Eliot's normally gruff voice has become deep and soothing as he speaks in calm, slow sentences. "In..." He rubs your shoulder gently. "And out."
You try to follow his breathing as best you can, focusing on the weight of his hand on your shoulder and the warmth of his body against yours. Trying not to focus on how the walls feel like they are closing in.
"Tell me about something." Eliot coaxes gently, trying to distract you. "Tell me about the party."
"The party?" You respond, catching your breath.
"Yeah, you seemed like you were having a good time." He says, continuing to rub your arm.
"Not really." You chuckled dryly, leaning back against the shelves. "That woman was incredibly pushy."
"Which woman?"
"The one in the red dress, with the matching handbag?"
"What was she doing?" Eliot's still trying to keep you distracted.
"Flirting with me." You make a face in the darkness, huffing. "Touching my arm and laughing and telling me how nice my eyes look."
"And you didn't like that?" Eliot asks, picking up on your tone. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he sounded slightly hopeful.
"No. She's not my type."
âOh? And what is your type?â He asks, his curiosity brewing just beneath the surface.
âMen.â You respond.
Eliot goes quiet. For a second, you've forgotten about how close you were and the fact that you've never mentioned this to the rest of the team. But as another second passes, you are once again acutely aware of your predicament, and quickly worry that youâve made him uncomfortable.
âIâm sorry, I hope I didnât-â
âWhy are you apologizing?â Eliot cuts you off, his voice quiet but firm.
âI thought I made you uncomfortable.â
The words hang in the air for a moment before Eliot takes a breath in.
âI thought I was straight for a long time, until I met this guy in the service. Paul. HeâŠhe was the kind of guy I could see a life with. But I neverâŠâ Eliot stops, and you feel him shake his head. âThose feelings faded, eventually. We were better as friends. But that doesnât change the fact that IâŠâ He seems to flounder a bit, struggling for words. âI know how you feel.â
âYou? You like men?â You say, holding back a grin in the darkness.
âOccasionally.â Eliot responds, and you can almost hear the smirk that lightens your worry like the sun breaking through the clouds.
"Occasionally?" You repeat, almost like a challenge.
"When I find a guy that catches my interest."
"And have you? Since Paul, I mean."
âYeah, Iâd say I have,â Eliot responds, his voice sitting low in his chest. Heâs so close you can practically feel the vibrations, feel his heartbeat against yours. "Have you?" He asks softly, hand still resting on your shoulder. "Found anyone that catches your interest recently?"
"Why?" You question with a smile. "You wanna know about my love life?"
"Maybe I do," Eliot answers noncommittally. "Maybe I'm curious."
"You know, you're really hard to get a read on." You chuckle, hands still resting on the shelf behind you, chest pressed against Eliot's.
"Me?"
"Yes, you. I thought you were this gruff, no-nonsense professional who just busts heads and doesn't care about anyone."
"And now?"
"Now, I don't know. You seem to care about the team at least a little bit. And about me." You shift against him, trying to get more comfortable, and hear a slight change in his breathing.
"I care about you more than you think," Eliot responds gruffly. "More than I should."
You hesitate. How much should you say?
"I care about you, too." You finally respond. "More than I should."
You and Eliot fall into a charged silence, the tension settling on your shoulders and filling the tight space. Nowhere to run or hide. Nowhere to escape from these feelings swirling in your gut.
You feel Eliot move his hand on your shoulder, reaching up to gently hold the side of your face. It's a small gesture, and you find yourself leaning into his touch.
"This is probably a bad idea," Eliot says, voice rough. His breath is warm against your face, and smells faintly of the champagne you both drank at the party.
"Probably." You respond. "But that doesn't mean I don't want this."
You can practically feel Eliot's gaze in the dark, and can feel the tension in his body. He leans in ever so slightly, and you wonder if he's waiting for you to push him away. You move closer to him, pressing yourself up against him more, and hear a soft breath leave his lips.
"Eliot." You speak carefully. "Please."
That's all he needs as he closes the distance, lips pressing against yours gently. It's a tentative kiss, like he's testing the waters. You lay your hands on his chest as you kiss him back, reassuring him and encouraging him to deepen the kiss, gently pushing you back against the shelf. One hand holds your face, while the other settles on your hip. He pulls back after a second, breathing softly.
"Is that..was that okay?" He asks, letting the hand holding your face slide down to rest on the crook of your neck.
"Yes, yes, that was..." You trail off, trying to find the words. They escape you, however, and instead, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him in for another kiss, this one a little less careful. He reciprocates immediately, his body pressing against yours in this tiny world. His touches are a bit needier, his lips more desperate to taste yours as his grip tightens on you, like he's afraid you'll slip through his grasp.
The lock clicks, and you both pull away quickly as the door swings open, light flooding in. Parker stands there, grinning triumphantly with an ID card in her hands. She's still wearing the white button-up, black slacks, and apron that allowed her to blend in with the waitstaff.
"Figured something was wrong when your comms went dark." She says, stepping to the side to let you and Eliot out. Right. The job.
"Thanks, Parker." You respond quickly, running a hand through your hair. You're positive you look about the same as Eliot does right now, flushed and a bit disheveled. You hope Parker doesn't put two and two together. You don't regret what happened, but you don't even know what this thing with Eliot is yet. You don't want it to be broadcast to the rest of the team before the two of you are ready.
The chances of that happening, though, with people on the team that specifically excel at reading people...
"C'mon, we gotta get out of here." Eliot grumbles, leading the way down the hallways as you and Parker follow quickly behind him.
There wasn't time to think of that now. You and Eliot could talk later. Now? Now it was time to finish taking down this rich bastard.
Summary: After Harry is almost injured on a job, an argument reveals feelings that have been left unsaid.
Tags: Confession, First Kiss, Fluff
Warnings: mild angst (argument), discussion of possible injury, discussion of possible death
âThat was too close, Harry. Too close.â You told him, setting down your bag on the counter of the bar heavily, the equipment rattling loudly inside as you set it down harder than you needed to.
You pulled out your earbud, stuffing it in your pocket. The rest of the team was getting food and didnât have their earbuds in, but you didnât want them getting back on coms and snooping anyway. You had planned to come back to HQ alone, but Harry had insisted on following you back because clearly something was bothering you.
âWhat was too close?â Harry asked, following your lead and setting down his much lighter bag on the bar as well. âWe all got out of there fine, as far as I can see. No broken-â
âThat guy almost gutted you like a goddamn fish! And youâre trying to tell me everything is fine?â You cut him off, startling him slightly as you raise your voice. Thereâs a tinge of guilt in the pit of your stomach, but itâs quickly replaced by anger and concern.
âEliot got to me in time. Not even a scratch!â Harry smiled awkwardly, trying to ease the tension. It doesnât work.
âWhat if Eliot hadnât been there?â You cross your arms, facing him. Staring him down.
Harry shrugged, a quick, unintentionally dismissive gesture. âI wouldâve been fine.â
âNo, no you wouldnât have.â You narrow your eyes, approaching him slowly. âYou arenât like Sophie, you canât talk your way out of everything. Youâre not like Eliot, you canât punch your way out of everything. You donât carry a taser. What would you have done?â
Harry meets your gaze, eyes widening slightly. He looks hurt. âYou donât trust me.â He says softly. âYou donât think Iâm very capable, do you?â
The look in his eyes sting more than his words as your anger stutters slightly in its steps. âNo, thatâs not what Iâm saying. Iâm saying that you got too deep in the con, okay? And it got too hot.â
âWhy donât you trust me?â Harry asks, stepping towards you. âI understood in the beginning, but now? Iâm not helpless, Iâve proven that Iâm not helpless.â
âIâm not saying youâre helpless Iâm just saying-â
âWhat Iâm hearing is you think I canât take care of myself-â
âNo, that not-â
âWould you be saying this if it was Sophie? Or Parker, or Eliot, or Hardison? Or even Breanna?â
âThatâs not the point, the point is that-â
âI just donât understand-â
âYou couldâve died!â You yell suddenly, voice ringing over Harryâs and causing him to shut his mouth quickly. âYou couldâve been hurt or died and I canâtâI wonât live with that. I wonât let that happen.â
Harry seems dumbfounded, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. You turn from him, pulling open your equipment bag. You need to busy yourself. You need to get away from here.
Harry approaches carefully, hands up in gentle surrender. âHey, Iâm okay, alright? Iâm not dead.â
âI know.â You snap quickly, digging around in the bag.
âPlease, look at me.â Harry says quietly, standing next to you. You huff slightly, resolutely turning to face him. The concern in his eyes nearly melts your heart. âWhatâs going on?â
âI justâŠâ You swallow thickly. How much are you willing to say? How much are you willing to admit? âI care about you. I worry about you. I hate seeing you hurt. And you almostâŠâ You trail off, looking away.
âHey, hey, itâs ok.â Harry says gently, holding out a hand. âCan I have your hand?â
âWhat?â You look at him, a little confused.
âJustâŠplease.â He says pleadingly.
You oblige, giving him your hand. He takes it, placing your palm on his chest, slightly under his blazer and over his dress shirt. You can feel his heart thrumming underneath your fingers, and the heat emanating from his body.
âIâm right here.â Harry says softly, catching your gaze and drawing it to his eyes. âIâm okay.â
âYour heart is beating a little fast.â You tell him, unconsciously syncing your breathing with his in the close proximity.
âYeah.â You sigh softly, not pulling your hand away. The feeling of his heart calms your own, grounding you.
âWhy do youâŠcare so much? About me?â Harry asks very genuinely. âI mean, you care about everyone, you get upset when anyone is hurt. But with me, itâs just alwaysâŠmore.â
âI didnât like you at first.â You tell him, and his eyes widen ever so slightly. âItâs true. Didnât trust you. But every so slowly you wormed your way into my heart. And before I knew what was happening, there you were. And here I was. And IâŠâ You pause, gathering your thoughts. Gathering your courage. âI fell in love with you. Itâs stupid, but I canât do a thing about it.â
âYouâŠwhat?â Harry is aghast, mouth falling open slightly. âWith me?â
âForget it.â You pull your hand away as if you were burned, taking his surprise as rejection. As mockery.
âNo, no-â He places a hand on your shoulder before you can turn away. âIâm sorry, that wasnât a good response, Iâm justâŠâ He shakes his head. âI love you too.â
Now itâs your turn to be surprised, blinking slowly in confusion.
âThis is not-â Harry chuckles, eyes wrinkling up once more. âNot how I thought this discussion was going to go? This is a lot more awkward, than I-â
You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close to you as if youâve been waiting to do that for a very long time. He freezes for a second before he wraps his arms around you as well, hand coming up to cradle your head gently. You pull back slightly to look him in the eyes. He looks back at you, the moment charged with a lot of words that could be said. Until finally, he speaks.
âCan Iâmay I kiss you?â He asks sheepishly, almost with the energy of a nervous teenager on a first date.
Your response is to press your lips against his, eyes fluttering shut as you savor the feeling of his lips tenderly. He kisses back quickly, one hand on your waist and the other on the back of your head.
You both pull back after a second to look at each other once more, breathing softly against each otherâs lips, the spell unbroken. His eyes flicker down from your lips back up to your eyes, and itâs less than a second your lips are crashing together, much more desperately this time. Your hands grab the front of his blazer as you both stumble back against the bar, kissing him like youâre about to lose him. You want to memorize this feeling.
As you both break for air, panting slightly, he smiles, looking at you with lingering concern. âYou okay?â He asks softly.
âYeah.â You respond just as softly, lips still ghosting over his. âI justâŠdidnât realize how much I wanted this.â
âMe neither.â He says, pressing his forehead against yours. âIâd like to do that more often.â
This makes you laugh quietly, pressing another kiss to his lips.
âWhoa, okay!â
You and Harry nearly jump out of your skins as you whirl around to see that the team has returned from getting food, all of them startled, but none of them particularly surprised.
âWondering how long it was gonna take.â Eliot says with a half smile that quickly disappears when Sophie holds out her hand. He grumbles and digs in his pocket, giving her a wad of cash.
âYou betted on us?â Harry asks, clearing his throat and trying to adjust his tie.
âOf course.â Breanna said with a shrug, walking over to the table and setting down a bag of food. âAre you two likeâŠa thing now?â
âWell, I think maybe thatâs the type of thing you discuss over dinner.â Harry turns to you, holding out his arm. âWould you like to?â
âYes.â You take his arm, face still slightly flushed from embarrassment. âPlease.â
Sophie smiled and shakes her head, tossing you a look as you walk out into the courtyard with Harry.
âSo. Hungry?â Harry asks, leading you out onto the sidewalk.
âYes. I could eat.â You say with a grin, giving his arm and affectionate squeeze.
I need to know what the fuck happened??? Listen, never once have I been attracted to Channing Tatum. Not in Step Up, not in Kingsman the Golden Circle, not even in Magic Mike. Sure, I could objectively look at him and go, "Damn, it's pleasing on the eyes," but a personal attraction to him? Never.
THAT BEING SAID!
Gambit????? I don't know if it's the accent, or the costume, or the personality, or something entirely different, but that man is so fine???? But only as Gambit! I have seen him out of costume since watching D&W and still not a lick of attraction.
What on earth did they put into that man in that movie???
Just watched Triple Frontier, and it was wonderful! All of the characters felt real and all had great dynamics, and of course Oscar Isaac is always a treat to watch. I literally love Santiago and Frankie so much! I already kinda want to rewatch it again (and also kinda want to write for the boys)
Summary: After the most terrifying night of your life, the sun finally rises. In the light of dawn, the werewolf curse lifts, and you are finally reunited with Nick.
This story kinda assumes some sort of pre established relationship between reader and Nick.
Warnings: Blood, Language, Death (fear of others death), basically anything cannon typical
You were up a tree, having quickly climbed up it to escape from one of the werewolves that had been terrorizing you and your friends, and had resigned yourself to stay there until morning. Luckily, you hadnât had to wait long, though it had felt like an eternity.
As the sky finally began to glow with the light of morning, you allowed yourself to breathe a sigh of relief. You had made it. You were alive. Thank god.
Victory, however, was short lived as a wave of anxiety crashed over you. While you knew you were safe in the light of day, you had no idea how many of your friends had survived. Fuck, you could be the only one left for all you knew.
Your clothes felt like they were plastered against your body, slick with sweat and blood. Although you were sure you hadnât been injured much, aside from some scrapes, cuts, and bruises that were sure to hurt like a bitch, you knew you were covered in an alarming amount of blood.
Nick.
You had seen him turn into one of those things. Now that the sun was up, he should be back to normal, right? The other monsters wouldnât have attacked him if he was one of them?
But the Hacketts. And Laura. What if he had been mistaken for Chris, like Kaylee had? What if someone had no choice, them or him?
âWorst case scenario.â Is what Laura had said when she gave Abigail the silver bullet. You hoped it hadnât come to that.
Grabbing onto the trunk for balance, you carefully slid down the tree, feet landing firmly on the ground. The sunâs rays were spreading across the ground, bathing the world in a gentle orange light. It was comforting, the warmth, and god you were exhausted. You briefly considered just laying down on the ground and letting the sun wash over you, falling asleep in the mud and leaves. No. You shook the thought away and started walking towards where you thought the lodge was. You couldnât have run that far.
Walking through the woods, you unconsciously scanned your surroundings, all of your senses working together to take in as much as they could. You felt like you were on high alert. You supposed a night being a monsterâs quarry did that to a person.
From off in the woods, you heard the crunching of leaves and the snap of a twig. Someone was out here with you.
âHello?â You called out. âWhoâs there?â
The noise paused, and for a moment you thought it had just been an animal. Then you heard a voice.
âY/N? Is that you?â His voice sounded tired, but the accent was unmistakable. Nick.
âNick! Keep talking, Iâm coming to you!â You turned in the direction you had first heard the sound, walking quickly through the brush.
âIâm over here!â He called. You broke through the line of trees and saw him. His clothing was torn and hanging off of him, and his hair was messy. That wasnât what was most concerning, though. Nick was absolutely drenched in blood, every part of him practically saturated with it. His eyes were wide when they met yours, and he was trembling slightly.
âWhatâŠwhat happened? Why am I covered with blood?â He blinked a few times, as if taking you in as well. âWhy are you splattered with blood? Are you alright?â
âYeah, yeah Iâm fine.â You felt a sense of relief. He was here, he was alive, and he didnât seem injured despite the alarming amount of blood.
âWhat happened?â Nick repeated himself. He hadnât moved towards you, as if he didnât trust himself. He seemed a little out of it, but Christ, who wouldnât be? And how were you supposed to explain what happened? Oh yeah, sorry, you just turned into a werewolf and the rest of us spend the night running for our lives from you and the Hacketts, who are also werewolves by the way! Thereâs no way heâd believe you. But then again, after all thatâs happened tonightâŠ
âHow much do you remember?â You asked him, stepping cautiously closer.
âI rememberâŠthat animal. The thing that attacked me in the woods. My legâŠâ He reached down, touching it gingerly. He blinked, looking down at it. âI thoughtâŠ.didnât it bite me?â Where there had been a vicious bite mark hours earlier, the skin was smooth and unbroken.
âYou were bitten.â You nodded. âItâŠit mustâve healed.â
âHealed?â Nick looked more and more confounded. âWhat happened to me?â
You took a deep breath. âThe animal that attacked you in the woods? It was a werewolf. It bit you and you turned. When the sun rose, you turned back.â Nick looked at you, incredulous. âI know it sounds insane, but believe me. It happened.â You were close enough to touch him now, looking into his eyes.
He seemed to consider what you were saying, the look on your face making him pause. He scoured your expression, looking for any sign of a strange prank or odd joke.
âYouâre telling the truth.â He concluded. It was an observation, not a question. âIâŠ.I turned? Into a werewolf?â
âItâs not as cool as it sounds. It was terrifying.â
âIâm sorry.â He apologized. He was still trembling, though he sounded exhausted. You reached out, taking one of his hands in yours. His muscles were tense, but seemed to relax slightly when you held him.
âItâs not your fault.â You assured him. âAre you hurt?â
âNo, no, Iâm fine. I meanâŠIâm covered in bloodâŠbut I donât feel any pain. Iâm justâŠ.fuck Iâm so tired.â He admitted, a heavy sigh escaping him. âI feel like Iâve run a mile.â
âItâs over now.â You reassured him. If he was cured. You pushed the thought down. That was a conversation for another time, when Nick was feeling better.
âCan IâŠ.can I have a hug?â He asked sheepishly. âYou donât have to, I know Iâm sort of disgusting right now-â You cut him off, wrapping your arms around him tightly. The stress seemed to melt from both of you bodies and he hugged you back, his body warming your chilled skin.
âYouâre freezing.â He breathed quietly, holding you tighter. He buried his face into your shoulder, and you ran your fingers through his hair, trying to provide as much comfort as you could. He pulled his head up, meeting your eyes. âWhen I was turnedâŠ.I didnât hurt you, did I?â
You shook your head. âNo, you didnât hurt me.â
âThank god.â
âI had a close call with one of the other werewolves though.â
His hand came up and cupped the side of your face. The concern was evident in his eyes. âI-I didnât even think to ask, shit, Iâm sorry. I donât remember, but youâŠ..youâve had a hellish night, havenât you?â
Your silence was all the answer he needed. He bumped his forehead gently against yours. âIâm here if you need to talk about it.â
âNick?â
âYeah?â
âThank you.â
He smiled and gave you a gentle kiss on the lips. âAnytime.â
âLetâs get back to the lodge. We should be able to find you some new clothes and get you cleaned up.â You really didnât want to leave the warmth of the hug, but knew you had make sure the others knew you two were alive. And make sure they were alive, too.
Nick nodded and pulled back, keeping your hand as he intertwined his fingers with yours. âLead the way.â
If I had a nickel for every time my favorite character in a Dark Pictures Anthology game was a middle aged man with glasses who struggles with an addiction, has the âOverbearingâ trait, and because of his job and sense of authority becomes the sort of leader of the group, Iâd have two nickels. Which isnât a lot, but itâs weird it happened twice.
When you really want to write fic for your new favorite characters but you donât have any ideas so you just kinda sit there and furiously think and still somehow come up with no ideas
