⦿ genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers to enemies, mages
⦿ word count: 1.2k
⦿ warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, magic
⦿ summary: Icarus laughed as he fell.
Next ➸
"With this oath, I swear that we shall never harm each other as long as we both shall live." You pricked your finger with an engraved pin, symbols glowing red as they made contact with your blood. You winced at the pain, holding the pin out to Heeseung.
"Nothing shall break this bond, and it shall stand until the end of time," he said, nerves making him breathless as he took the pin from you, pricking his own finger. The symbols changed colour, glowing a deep blue as the two of you sat cross legged in front of each other. You had found the spell book hidden under your mothers straw mattress, and in your 7 years of wisdom, it seemed as if it was the most brilliant idea.
The two of you held your bleeding fingers over the pot of herbs resting over the fire pit. With a countdown, the two of you squeezed the blood off, watching as it sizzled when meeting the red hot metal. You watched for a small moment, waiting for something more to happen.
"Do... Do you think it worked?" Heeseung asked, voice small and unsure.
"Only one way to find out?" You replied, handing Heeseung the small paring knife and holding out your other hand. His eyes went wide as he took it, holding your outstretched hand and looking at you as if to say 'are you sure?'. You nodded, taking in a deep breath and closing your eyes, bracing for the pain. All you heard was metal shattering, and you opened one eye to look at Heeseungs amazed expression and the broken blade scattering the floor.
The two of you couldn't stop laughing, hugging and shaking each other in astonishment. The glee in his eyes was reflected in your own, and the two of you spent the night testing it just to see if it was a once off, smiles of joy never wavering.
—
The room was pitch black, save for the candles flickering on top of the grand piano. It had gone dusty from disuse, and the smell of rot and damp burned the noses of anyone who dared set foot. A lone man sat in the corner, glass of whisky in hand as he stared into space, the memory leaving as sudden as it had came. It hurt his heart in a way far too familiar for his liking, and he tried his best to push the feeling aside, drinking the rest of the alcohol in one gulp, ignoring the burn in his throat. It hadn't been enough to placate him.
His other hand was playing with his necklace, the cold iron burning into his skin, branding him under its touch. He ought to rip it off, throw it into a fire and watch as it melted down into nothing. Yet every time he tried, something was stopping him, his fingers instead going to open the delicate locket and looking at the pair of you, as if no harm would ever fall upon you. Gods he wanted to go back to those days so desperately, wanted to just hold you again as a teen who didn't know any of the worlds hardships either than hunger and cold. But he was 400 years too late for that.
The candles on the piano were starting to burn out now, only two left to flicker in the darkness. He risked a glimpse at his index finger, watching as the candlelight made the pinprick scar dance in shadows. He absentmindedly ran his thumb over it, standing from the chair tucked into the corner before waving his hand, the remaining fire going out. It had been too long a day for him, and the effects were beginning to drag him down. This house was far to large for a sole person, the emptiness always present on the edges of his mind. It was never meant to be just him, just Heeseung in the house he had built for the two of you.
His room was filled with mage books, incantations, scrolls and barely any space for himself on the bed. Another wave of his hand, and the fireplace burst into action, crackling bursting through the silence like a bomb. A particularly loud snap of a branch makes Heeseung flinch, bare feet padding against the plush carpet towards the small bare patch on the bed. Gods, his eyes were unbelievably tired. Even his thoughts began to slur as he got closer to the bed, not bothering to change from his midnight coloured button up and slacks as he threw himself onto it, scrolls jumping about with the movement. A book was digging uncomfortably into his ribs but he couldn't find the effort to move it, simply letting it press into his skin while he drifted off far too quickly than is considered healthy.
—
"Cmon Heeseung, what could be the harm? It's just a town fair, there'll be travelers and merchants!" You laughed out, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the door. He couldn't help but return the grin, eyes still shut over with tiredness.
"If you insist my little mage," His eyes shone with affection as he let himself get dragged along, barely managing to get his overcoat and scarf as you pulled him into the snow, laughing and playing in it all. The two of you hadn't been able to part from each other since your bond was made 12 years ago, growing and learning with each other. You learned spells together, learned potions and wand craft with each other. You had learned each other now.
He watched as you dragged him from stall to stall, passing vendors and food stalls. He laughed at the way you started shaking with excitement when you found a mages stall who had more volumes of books than you had ever seen. He let you pile up book upon book in his arms, adding in his own every now and then until the pile was getting far too much to carry. You split the pile between you as you walked back to the cabin far secluded from everyone. He tried not to make it too obvious, but the way Heeseung kept pushing himself into your side made you laugh with glee, kicking at his ankles every now and then.
The two of you sat in comfortable silence, each scanning their own pile of books for something worth interest. Heeseung couldn’t help but steal glances at you, softly lit from the small fire in the centre of the cabin, hair looking like it was in a halo of fire. It was one of the most beautiful sights he’d ever seen.
"Heeseung! Look at this one!" You urge him over, not even looking up from the tome in front of you. He sat himself behind you, resting his head on your shoulder with a hum of curiosity. You turned, kissing his cheek with a small smile before pointing out the spell to him. It took him a moment to register what he was reading, but when he did, he all but screamed in excitement, planting a giant sloppy kiss on your neck, arms wrapping around and squeezing you with a laugh.
"I can't believe it! You found it! Gods, I love you my little mage!" The two of you couldn't stop laughing, utter delight seeping through every pore. Finally.
I’m not sending you a letter, that would be odd. An email will work for now.
Is it weird that I talk to you in my head a few times? And by a few times, I really mean when I finish a book (sometimes, mid-read) or a movie; when I caught myself looking at my art through your eyes or even when I’m wondering what you are up to at Grenell.
One could easily think this is because I miss talking (writing) to you. And that would be...
correct.
Aster
Dear Aster,
I don’t distrust the American postal service, but I’m glad we can be a bit more time-efficient than it.
Yes, it is weird.
On a totally different topic, would you believe I might have a note on my phone with a few topics I’m curious about your opinion?
Ellie.
Dear Ellie,
The new accompanist is... fine, my dad agreed. Is this the feeling you left behind on everyone who gets to know you?
Aster
Dear Aster,
I’m glad I’m such a topic that put together fathers and daughters across the nation.
I’m feeling betrayed at the idea that Grenell would have enough to fill my mind and not wander back to Squahamish. This is not the case.
Ellie.
Dear Ellie,
I’m afraid your career as a family mediator is quite short.
Did I traumatize you about quotes? Can you assure me I’m not talking to Paul?
Aster
Dear Aster,
I’m learning to rely on my words and
...
identity.
Isn’t it bold?
Ellie.
Dear Ellie,
I think this is peak “the boldest you can make”. Can I plagiarize for a bit more? I need a couple more time to be sure. Maybe even, so sure.
Aster
Dear Aster,
Take all the time you need, I’m glad we won’t tire the postman.
Ellie.
Dear Ellie,
Can I send you a small list of things I’m sure about?
Yakut is so good.
Audrey is the best Hepburn.
Taco sausage is delicious.
I’m glad we’re talking again.
Aster
Dear Aster,
Three out four times we agreed. But good doesn’t come any close of the right definition for Yakut.
I used to wait for the notifications of GhostMessage. Such a Pavlovian response to these small sounds. Now, the mail app’s faintest “ding” brings me back to the booth.
Ellie.
Dear Ellie,
Positive reinforcement is the proven best way to conditioning. I now smile every email notification, but unfortunately, spam exists.
After having stepped away from what I had already written with The Flight of Icarus well over a year ago, I finished the outline over the summer with the expert help of @amanda-teaches and @atc74. Now that I’m revisiting everything that I had written prior to finishing the outline, I’m surprised to see I’m a little further along than I thought.
Act I first draft is nearly finished. I’m writing the last chapter to get it out of my head so I can switch to The Rising of The Dawn headspace. Total word count so far for Flight of Icarus:
30,674
Anticipating this length for each act, at five acts, this story will be pushing upwards of 150k, easily. I cannot wait to write the rest of this beast and share it.
warnings: tattoo’s, some pain, a lot of fighting, some blood, sickening pet names, i write bad
word count: 3.3k
summary: Icarus laughed as he fell
⇺ Prev | Next ⇻
It had been 15 years since the two of you had pricked your fingers together, sealing the bond you’d had for all time. Since that day, you had never left his side. Now you were here in the giant house, resting on your entirely naked front while Heeseung was hovering over your back, following the stencil he’d lain on your skin a few hours prior while he tapped the black ink into your skin.
It wasn’t his first time, and now he’d worked on his powers enough to the point of you never feeling a thing. You never noticed how Heeseung shifted in pain every few moments with every new symbol he etched into your skin, how his skin seemed irritated for hours after, only testing your new abilities until your bones felt like they would break with one strong breeze.
Finally, everything was done, and Heeseung watched in awe as the ink slowly leached into your skin, leaving only a red impression of what he’d just sent hours working on. Slowly it faded even more to a subtle pink, looking like nothing more than just a bruise that hadn’t healed quite yet. The way it looped into the other symbols hidden on your back was nothing more than elegant, and Heeseung was thankful you had designed it so beautifully.
“You’re ready my little mage, it's finished,” his smile was showing in his voice, a gentle hand running up your bare side, finger brushing against the tickling spot on your ribs. Your hand came up to swat him away, pushing yourself up gently, anticipating the ache that never came as you pulled your shirt on.
“Thank you my kind warlock.” You pressed a light kiss to his lips, stretching as you stood up fully, tiredness already seeping through your body after lying down for so long.
“So what does this one do?” Heeseung grabbed your hand, lips brushing against your knuckles as he looked up at you from the chair. You ruffled his hair, eyes crinkling shut as you smiled at him.
“This, my little cat, is a looping sigil. If I ever wanted to activate it, it would be a fail safe.” Heeseung stared you down, eyes darkening slightly.
“A fail safe for what?” His tone was harsh, fingers gripping you tighter and tighter with every passing second.
“In case it's necessary, Hee. But it's just an if, I probably wont ever need it.” You crouched down in front of him, other hand taking his and squeezing it reassuringly. It didn’t seem to work.
“I promise you my little mage, I will never let anything happen to you. That sigil will never ever be used, I swear on my life.” With his words, a faint blue chain circled around your joined fists, barely noticeable in the light streaming in from the windows.
“I promise I will never use it unless it is the last possible choice.” Some chain links turned red, blending into the chain seamlessly. He let his head fall down slightly, pressing his forehead against yours while staring at the chain. You closed your eyes, letting your breath out in a shaky sigh.
“My little mage…”
“My kind warlock.” You tilted your head forward, brushing your lips against his ever so slightly. You opened your eyes as you pulled away, the chains no longer around your fists but a faint impression left on your skin.
—
17 years and 10 months. It had passed in a flash, the years creating up on you like a hunter stalking prey. Much like how Heeseung was acting now.
The two of you had arrived at this ball together, a friend and fellow mage celebrating his marriage in a night of drink and dance. Well, to call it a ball would be to imply some kind of fancy hall, servants standing at every possible area ready to serve drinks and food. This was not a ball in the typical sense.
The woods were lit by firebugs and fae light, stringed instruments playing a merry jig while some singers belted their voices to reach even the nearest village and most hidden creatures. People swung their partners in circles, drunk on mead and the feeling of true joviality. You were in the outskirts of the dance, spinning with a random mage with large rams horns protruding from his forehead, and two hooves for feet. He was a fantastic dancer despite them- or maybe because of them. With an unspoken count, all the ladies parted from their partners, running to the middle with a cheer, only to be spun by a new partner.
Your moss green woven dress flew around you, matching all the deep earth tones everyone wore, the only form of a dress code in this celebration. The hard chest under your steadying hands was familiar, and the laugh that bellowed out warmed your soul as Heeseung picked you up by the waist, twirling in time with everyone around him before setting you down, skipping with you in a large circle around the married couple in the centre.
“My little mage, I’ve been trying to dance with you all night,” Heeseung was slightly out of breath, small beads of sweat showing on his forehead, matching your own signs of exertion. “You’re a very hard woman to catch.”
“My sweet warlock,” a spin that almost sent you tumbling over a tree root sticking out of the ground. “I know you do enjoy a challenge,” you winked at him, spinning him this time, laughing as he almost fell over the same tree root. And with him distracted, the count finished again, all the women running towards the centre again with screams of glee, watching as Ilore grabbed Kirra’s waist, bending her and planting a tipsy, sloppy kiss to her cheek.
Another scream sounded out over the sounds of joy, a bloodcurdling scream that made you shiver, everyone around turning all over to see where it came from. The strings and singers trailed off at separate times, a dissonant sound making everyone cover their ears in pain. Another scream from a different voice came from your right, and some people started towards it to find the source, only to fall back as monstrous creatures emerged from the dark forest all around. The fae lights flickered out as people began running, some away from the monsters and some towards their weapons littered on the benches that had been pushed aside for the dancing.
You were almost frozen, head turning rapidly to try and find- Heeseung was helping up someone who’d fallen, but a creature was right behind him. Running as fast as you could, you tapped your right wrist with two fingers, feeling as the symbol began burning and a spear made of red lightning appeared in your hand. You stopped a few meters away, momentum carrying your arm as you flung the spear straight into the chest of the creature who was mere inches from Heeseung. He looked behind him just to see the spear return to your outstretched hand, turning into a whip just before reaching you.
Nodding at you, he returned to helping the fallen, while you continued attacking. Nothing was keeping them down, they just kept getting back up seconds after being knocked down. You tapped your wrist again, jumping back a few steps while someone ran into the side of a monster just in front of you. A hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you away just as another creature leapt on the man who was pummelling the fallen creature into the ground.
“Y/N we need to run!” Heeseung was desperately trying to pull you back from the fight, more mages joining in now they were armed.
“Heeseung, go now.” You spun, trying to get your arm free from his grip.
“I can't leave you!” His tone was desperate, fear making his chest tighter than anything he’d felt before. You placed a hand on his cheek, trying to calm yourself before you started running with him.
“I will always come back Heeseung, always back to you.” You tried to project a feeling of calm to Heeseung, knowing he could feel everyone’s fear which only helped in amplifying his own. A scream burst out behind you just as he was starting to calm, and the edge of fear returned to his eyes, expression heartbreaking as he looked over your head at the fight still raging behind you.
“Come back to me, little mage.” Heeseungs hand squeezed your arm before letting you go, turning to run and help anyone who needed it.
“Always.”
A snarl sounded just behind your ear, and you barely managed to duck underneath the claws that came for your head. You tucked your arms around you, brushing your elbows with your palms, and spun as you pulled your arms apart, palms staying against your arms until your wrists. A transparent red shield suddenly burst into existence on your left arm, right hand glowing as the creature slammed against the shield in fury. Gods it was strong. You finally could take in it's appearance and it almost made you run right there.
Wulvers.
It was humanoid, entire body covered in short brown hair with a wolf's head snarling down at you. Wulvers were never down this far from the hills, nor were they particularly violent towards those who didn’t wrong them. What the fuck were they doing here, attacking a gods damned party?
Droll dripped down onto the red shield, arms slamming down again. It’s eyes were feral, hunger tainting it's eyes while claws ripped at the shield, desperate to get through. With a shout, you pushed the monster back with your covered arm, right hand grabbing it's thigh as it stumbled. Almost instantly, the Wulvers back arched in pain, a silent roar opening it's mouth to an impossible width, the skin at the sides stretching and ripping as pain seized every nerve. It dropped after a long moment, curling into itself as you finally pulled your hand away, running your hands back up your arms till the elbows.
There wasn’t much time to concentrate on the way it looked almost pitiful, mages all around you still trying to fight off the remaining Wulvers. You saw as a mage you once knew a few years ago, who gave you your first sigil book fell down underneath one of the creatures. You moved on instinct, sliding on your knees towards the mage, knuckles pressing together. When they pulled apart, they glowed with a blood red mist surrounding them. A punch to the Wulver’s side sent it staggering away, another punch to it's head knocking it out swiftly. You turned to pull the mage up before realising the symbols were still glowing. A swift press of them together made sure the mage wouldn’t be harmed as you pulled him to his feet. A twig was digging in uncomfortably on your sole- when did you lose your shoes.
There was countless shouts now, both pain and anger mingled together. Everywhere you looked, there was some mage or warlock fighting a Wulver, and you didn’t know where in the Hells to start. There, a witch was trying to scramble away from a Wulver who’d caught her dress in it's claws. Taking off in a sprint towards her, you clapped your hands together twice, palms glowing as you jumped onto the back of the Wulver, pressing your palms to the sides of it's head. The hair underneath your hands was thickly matted and tangled, but the Wulver felt the pain from your magic anyway. It let out a pitiful howl, body curling in on itself while it's claws finally retracted from the dress, scratching at it's head in agony. A claw sliced down your left hand, and you had to fight every instinct to pull in back and cradle it. A second later and the Wulver dropped to the floor, not dead but simply passed out.
Falling back from it, you crouched next to the witch, making sure she was alright before clapping your hands back together. Once the glowing subsided, you ripped at your dress, getting a strip large enough to wrap around your hand. The adrenaline coursing through your body helped fight off the pain for now, but you could feel small ebbs breaking through every few seconds. Every time you looked around now, another Wulver was falling, and there was no more place for you in anybody’s battle.
You allowed yourself a moment of rest, pushing yourself back against a tree stump at the edge of the clearing, exhaustion creeping up on you after using so many sigils so quickly in succession. The final Wulver fell to a mages axe, and everyone stayed in a moment of high alert, scanning the clearing for a sign of any more appearing from the dark woods. All the light had left now, firebugs leaving moments after the fighting had begun. The only light source was people’s magic, different colours melding together into one large collective. One by one, they lowered their weapons, finding the wounded and gathering the Wulvers into a pile. You helped as much as you could, but the pain and exhaustion were hitting full force now.
A healer mage was making his rounds on the wounded, and you tried to wave him away to help the others, but the blood seeping through your makeshift bandage was at a worrying level now and the mage sat you down on one of the benches still intact after the attack. His power made you feel warm, and you were close to falling asleep until you heard more footsteps coming from the side of you. You were a second away from attacking again until a voice called out, one more familiar to you than the back of your own hand.
“Oh my Gods, are you okay?!” Heeseung ran up to you, sliding to a crouch as he grabbed your face, scanning for any marks. His touch was beyond comforting, and you sank into it without any complaints.
“I’m okay, I’m okay. I made it back in one piece to you, didn’t I?” Your jokes were an attempt to comfort him, but his panic was becoming overwhelming, hands running over you in an effort to find any cuts or injuries. You couldn’t handle the feeling of dread in your stomach any longer, and you grabbed his wrists to stop his frantic examinations.
“Heeseung, look at me.” His eyes continued scanning you, so you let go of one of his wrists, grabbing his chin this time.
“Look at me. I’m okay. Calm down, deep breaths. I am okay, I am alive and I’m here with you. Calm yourself.” You could see the tears welling in his eyes as he looked into yours with such feeling, it made your very soul ache. He closed them after a moment, a shaky breath leaving him, one he didn’t know he was holding. His head fell forward, a tear sliding down his cheek, and you let go of his chin, hand resting on the back of his neck instead as you smoothed his tousled hair down, pressing your lips to the top of his head. Neither of you pulled away, resting there for a long moment while Heeseung managed to calm himself down, pulling his emotions back inside.
Eventually, he rested his hands on your knee, pulling away from you. His smile seemed too forced, and he still looked on the cusp of tears as he looked at you once again.
“Let’s go home, little mage.” Home to where nothing could hurt you is what he wanted to say. Home to where he could keep you safe, where you had laid protection sigils all over so nothing that wanted to cause harm could enter, to where he could hold you for the rest of the night knowing you were staying by his side and weren’t leaving him. You let him grab your hand, pulling you up to his side so he could wrap an arm around your waist, keeping you as close to his side as possible.
He wouldn’t let you go for the rest of the night, stepping in behind you into the bath, pulling you close to his chest while he washed the dirt and muck from the Wulvers off. You let him shampoo your hair, his fingers dragging over your scalp in the most relaxing way. You turned to return the favour but caught his troubled face.
“What’s wrong Heeseung?” You asked, placing your palm against his cheek. He leaned into the touch, eyes closing with the comforting touch. He hummed, twisting his head to press a kiss to your palm before answering.
“For a moment, I couldn’t tell if you were there. I've always been able to feel your presence, but when you were fighting, at some point everything just… closed off. I thought I lost you forever, my little mage. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.” His eyes stayed closed but you could see the way his brow furrowed and his lips trembled slightly. Leaning forward to press a kiss to his nose, you grabbed the shampoo from beside him and squirted some into your hands.
“Open your eyes Heeseung,” you started rubbing the shampoo into his hair while he complied. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m alive. I’m with you, right now. I’m not leaving you Heeseung, I promise.” Tears welled up in both your eyes as you spoke, and your voice shook with every passing word. He let out a breath that turned into a sob halfway through, and he wrapped his arms around you as he broke, nestling his head in your neck. The suds in his hair popped against your cheek as you pressed into him, bringing your arms around his neck, tears falling freely down your cheeks.
The two of you remained crying as you finished bathing, only pulling apart from each other when you had to wash his hair off. You dried each other gently, tears dried up but still sobbing, the weight of the day hitting the two of you fully in two very different but too similar ways. Heeseung lifted you up after your bath, making sure your legs were wrapped around his waist before carrying you out of the bathing room, arms wrapped oh so tightly around your waist as if he was scared you would suddenly disappear.
He did not let you go even as you reached the bedroom, sitting down on the edge with you on his lap. His head that was tucked into your neck pressed gentle kisses onto your skin, pushing himself up until he was now lying down, head against the pillows. You reached down to grab the cover, cold air hitting your still exposed skin making you shiver. Pulling it over the two of you, Heeseung adjusted so you were now at his side, still half draped over him. Your body felt too heavy to move on your own, so you just let him get the two of you comfortable, eyes feeling so very tired. Heeseung waved a hand, and the curtains showing the just brightening sky closed off, small candles being lit all over the room. He wasn’t ready to be in the dark just yet, fears that you would be lost to the dark if he couldn’t see you too overwhelming at this moment.
He felt so vulnerable when you were away from him, the knowledge that if you were hurt or worse, that he would go insane with guilt and loss was too much for him to bear. His arms tightened around you, needing to feel you close to him to know you were still there. Sleep felt too far for him to reach this night, but with the feeling of your steadying breathing against him, and the warmth you were giving off, somehow he managed to find himself moments away from drifting off.
“I can't lose you my little mage.” His whisper was so loud in the quiet room, the sounds of birds waking outside the only other thing he could hear.
Elizabeth Andersson and Natalie Murphy dive into a heap of trouble when Sam and Dean Winchester find them stranded on the side of a deserted county road after a hunt gone wrong. Despite the strange coincidence of the two most infamous hunters in the world stumbling upon them, Elizabeth and Natalie decide they can team up with the Winchesters… for now. Alphas, witches, demons, and angels test this new-found family, pushing the limits of their trust, integrity, honesty, and respect. And least expected, they each find little love along the way.
Tags/Warnings: Canon-divergent, season-length plot arc, angels, demons, blood, gore, violence, sex, smut, angst, fluff, trauma, trust, honesty, integrity, betrayal, redemption, alternate Season 15 (sort of).
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Alleira (F!OC), Natalie Murphy (F!OC), Elizabeth Andersson (F!OC), Rowena, Ali (F!OC)
Pairings: Eventually Dean Winchester/Elizabeth Andersson, Sam Winchester/Natalie Murphy
Cameos: Jody, Donna, Claire, Kaia, Alex, Patience, Adria (F!OC), Mary Winchester, Gabriel, Chuck (mentioned), other very minor original characters
Word Count: ~150k?
A/N: I started writing this story in 2017. I finished the outline in 2020, and am currently writing chapters, and Act I is nearly finished. This story takes place in 2019 near the end of Season 14. Consider this a canon-divergent ending to Season 14 and an additional season occurring prior to Season 15.
Act I - Vampires in Venice, Louisiana
Prologue - A Cold-Open Haunt
Chapter 1 - Wayward
Chapter 2 - Barracuda
Chapter 3 - Blue Wrath
Chapter 4 - Back In Town
Chapter 5 - Sinner
Chapter 6 - Cars
Chapter 7 - Hotel California
Chapter 8 - Holy Smoke
More to come!
If you would like to be tagged in this series, send me a DM or an Ask!
Sorry Dragon Age folks, I’m pivoting to another fandom (but I know there are some of you out there that like both so, have fun).
Preface: Elizabeth is a hunter -- as is her best friend Natalie -- and the two joined up with Sam and Dean about six months prior to this head canon. At this point, there is nothing beyond a close friendship between Elizabeth and Dean, although neither will admit to being quite attracted to each other. Which leads to my head canon that Dean stares at Elizabeth often enough that she just calls him out on it.
Pairing: Dean x Elizabeth (friends that are attracted to each other)
Word Count: 788
Rating: SFW (warning: language)
The bunker was quiet.
Too quiet.
Dean sat in his chair -- the one closest to the stairs -- reading a book, though little and less made sense the longer he stared at the pages. And the gnawing, stinging itch between his shoulders, as if he were being watched, ground his last nerve to nothing.
Where was everyone? Sam and Natalie should have come back by now, there was food within walking distance. And last he’d checked, Elizabeth was in her room, avoiding him again. He needed to have a talk with her, and soon, lest she get the idea to kill them in their sleep. Or leave. Or whatever it was crazy people tend to do when they lose it.
Not that he thought she was crazy.
He shoved his chair back and stood, the scrape of wood on cement echoing through the bunker. Within a second, it returned to deafening silence, and Dean growled as he stomped down the hallway for Elizabeth’s room.
“Liz, can we--”
He rounded the corner to her room, thought trailing off as he entered. Her bed lay empty and her desk unoccupied. When he attempted a drawer, it wouldn’t budge. Of course.
“Where the hell is everyone?” he growled.
As if in response to his question, Dean caught the faintest shout, a yell so distant, he wasn’t sure he’d actually heard anything at all. Back in the hall, he stood still as stone, waiting, patient.
There, again, but louder that time, and he was sure he’d heard it. Someone yelling, a short burst of air. Down the hall he continued, relying on his honed senses.
Every few seconds, the shout repeated, louder and louder. Emboldened, he picked up to a trot, recognizing Elizabeth’s voice, recognizing the sounds of fighting. Fists met flesh, thumps and thwacks reverberating down the hall leading to the garage. Drawing his Taurus from the small of his back, Dean sprinted the last fifty yards to the open door.
He leaped across the threshold, gun pointed straight ahead and swiveling to find Elizabeth in the center of the garage -- standing in the empty space left behind by the Impala -- with a water-stand heavy bag in front of her.
With her back to him, she’d not seen him. But how had she not heard him bolting down the hallway? He had his answer when she began to sing, breathless, moving in time with a song only she could hear. Then Dean spotted her earbuds, snug as bug.
Blonde hair tied back in a high pony tail and hands wrapped with white tape, she connected with the bag in a flurry of fists, combinations she seemed to know well. Jab, jab, cross. Cross, hook, cross. Jab, cross, hook, cross. Sweat ran down her back, covered only by a black sports bra. Muscles rippled with each combination, and every other set finished with a knee strike, or a furious round kick. And with each kick came her shout, backside flexing beneath grey runner’s leggings.
Dean shook his head and his teeth clicked shut, irritated to find himself gaping. She was a colleague, a hunter, just like him, and there was no room for whatever it was that his brain wanted.
What his heart wanted.
With a growl, Dean turned on his heel and stomped from the garage, holstering the Taurus at the small of his back. Whiskey. He needed whiskey. Whiskey made everything better. He’d have a drink, finish that boring-ass book, and then hit the sack. Yeah, that would--
“Dean?”
He froze, mid-stride in the doorway. Run, dammit! What’s wrong with you?!
“Dean, what’s going on? Is something wrong?”
Son of a bitch. Just keep your eyes up, Winchester.
Turning to face her had been a terrible idea. “No,” he said as he searched the ceiling for something to say. “I ... was wondering where everyone was.”
Elizabeth eyed him with a suspicious squint. “I was working out. Sorry, thought you heard me earlier. I told you I’d be in the garage.”
Idiot. “Yeah, I ... no, I didn’t hear you,” he stuttered, eyes snapping to the floor. “I was up to my neck in that book.”
Nobody had the god damned right giggle like Elizabeth did. With nowhere else to look, his eyes snapped to her face, dripping with sweat and hair matted to her forehead. It was worse than looking at her chest. He would have been better off just staring at her tits instead of her sweaty, panting, face, tousled hair, pink cheeks, crooked smile, and blue eyes wide with the rush of exertion.
“Dean.”
“Yeah, staring, got it, leaving now.”
Her giggle followed him down the hall, the stuff of nightmares.
#Repost @theforceofinspiration • • • A special mention to these legends... A donation direct from their clubs memberships fees. $500 #Australian dollars. Just amazing! _____________________________ Maybe your clubs could do the same... Imagine where we could go with that everyone?! Professor Daniel Lawson and the team at @progressivebjj, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. _____________________________ Not all heroes wear capes, but they do wear Gi's. Cheers, Obi. _ _ #rollaroundtheclock #ruok #tfoi #theforceofinspiration #commandojitsu #commandocamp #ufc #bjj #teambuilding #leadership #inspiration #inspire #ptsd #leadershiptraining #royalmarinescommando #commandospirit #strength #jedijitsu #donatetosavelives #icantdothisalone #wewillsucceed #chaukaizen #savealife #mentalhealth #suicideprevention #teamwork #followme #adelaide #cityofprospect #grapplethon #aussie #australia #adelaide https://www.instagram.com/p/BtADQwrgrN2/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=6orywfk1xub7
#Repost @theforceofinspiration • • • 5weeks out... Update. Booking system goes live soon through @theforceofinspiration page... like to get access and reserve your place on the mats and a tiny piece of record breaking history. Thank you all for your continued support, we can do this👊🏼🤼♀️🥋🙌🏼💪🏼 Cheers, Obi xo #rollaroundtheclock #ruok #tfoi #theforceofinspiration #teamarruda #commandojitsu #commandocamp #ufc #bjj #teambuilding #leadership #inspiration #inspire #ptsd #leadershiptraining #royalmarinescommando #commandospirit #strength #jedijitsu #donatetosavelives #icantdothisalone #wewillsucceed #chaukaizen #savealife #mentalhealth #suicideprevention #teamwork #followme #adelaide #cityofprospect #grapplethon #charity #bjj #brazilianjiujitsulifestyle #brazilianjiujitsu https://www.instagram.com/p/Bs2fAKDguCd/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=aixh565tmvj6
