#I love a good bacon cheeseburger as much as the next guy but you will not know peace after seeing a pig eat Slop

[gxlden-angels]

Hey, I just saw your most recent post and am curious about the irrelevant part - what do you mean by the ''religions abstaining from pork because it was unsafe to eat at the time'' thing? I've never heard that before and I am genuinely intrigued to know about it.

Hi !! There's a lot of religious rituals and rules that people continue today out of tradition and respect that were started (or thought to have been started) for safety/health reasons, with one big one being how meat can be handled and what meat is safe to consume! Pork is the main one that I know of since I have some friends that keep kosher or only eat halal meats

Essentially, pigs are honestly pretty gross animals if you let them be. They're opportunistic omnivores, so they'll essentially eat whatever they can get their teeth on. That includes rotting/spoiled food, fecal matter, and even people if they sit still long enough. Pigs can also carry some gnarly diseases that can easily be passed on to people. It's why you'll often hear people refer to them as "unclean" in both a religious and hygienic sense, despite their cleanliness on the outside. You might not know what Trichinella parasites are, but if your cousin shits himself to death after eating porkchops, you're gonna assume that's a sign from someone above not to eat anymore pigs

We now have modern medicine, biologists, food scientists, meat storage/serving regulations, etc. etc. that have made the risk of catching anything from pork less than minimal as long as you store and cook it properly and there hasn't been a new outbreak of something. A lot of people keep the tradition out of respect for their ancestors/culture. A lot of people also keep it because they know that pigs are still kinda gross, even with modern interventions. I've met people that no longer follow pig-based rules at all, while others adjust it so they're only eating pork if they know where it came from and what that pig ate from birth to bacon

Basically, eating a pig before the creation of antibiotics and vaccines was the peak form of fucking around and finding out. Whether you found out because of salmonella or the wrath of every deity out there (or both!) is up to you

[bellaxgiornata]

You've Been Gone So Long, Baby (Chapter Four)《Completed Series》

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Matt had never let anyone so deep into his life until you. But when everything was going so perfectly, when he didn't think he could possibly be happier, he loses everything he loves in a single second–and he's absolutely powerless to fix it.

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains heavy angst & delayed comfort until the end

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n: Another angsty chapter with no comfort. You can find the chapter list for this series here. Enjoy!

Year 3

"Hey Matty, I'm running a bit late. You remember how I said I was craving pasta?"

Matt was sitting at his desk a couple of hours past the time he usually left the office, braille papers spread across the surface for a case he'd been working overtime on with Foggy. He was rolling his sleeves up to his elbows as he heard your adorable laugh through his phone, a small smile slipping onto his face at the sound of it. 

"Funny story actually. I was leaving work and I passed that diner again and don't hate me, but I needed the bacon cheeseburger. I know, I know. 'You’re eating another bacon cheeseburger again,  baby?' you ask. Yes, Matty, my love. It’s called being pregnant. But don’t worry, I grabbed you that chicken caesar wrap you like there this time!"

He smiled wider at the sound of your voice trying to pacify him in the message. It was the third time that week you'd grabbed dinner for the both of you at that diner because neither of you had had time to cook. Work had been keeping both of you busy that week and you had offered to pick something up whenever you had gotten out of the office knowing how much he had been stressed that week. 

"Blame your daughter. She clearly has a thing for bacon cheeseburgers. …and cheesecake. I may have grabbed cheesecake…"

A faint chuckle left him. You'd surprisingly shared the cheesecake with him that night. 

"Okay, well I'm on my way back–oh, sorry!–and I should be home just after you get back. So I'll see you in a little bit my wonderful, handsome, overworked husband who is totally okay with another dinner from Graham's Diner again! I love you, Matty!"

The automated voice of Matt's voicemail came on next, reading out the timestamp of the next saved message on his phone. A faint smile still lingered across his mouth as he rested his elbows on his desk, his focus no longer on his work.

"Mr. Ellsworth!"

Matt laughed lightly at the sound of your over-excited voice once again coming through the speaker of his phone. 

"Oh my God that was bothering me all day! The professor I was telling you about last night, his name was Mr. Ellsworth. I swear that man spent a few three hour lectures talking about just a single word from a sentence out of an entire book. I swear the guy next to me got a good nap in once every week just because of that class. Okay, anyway, not the reason I called."

Leaning further forward on his desk, Matt rested his chin in his hands. He closed his eyes and listened to your animated voice as you spoke. You always had been so lively, certainly a presence one could hardly ignore. And if he focused hard enough, sometimes he could listen to your old messages and trick himself into thinking he would come home from work to find you there, listening to something on the television while you finished making dinner. Maybe with a glass of orange juice for yourself–a craving you’d often had–and a beer ready for him. And then, after he had changed in the bedroom, he'd come out and wrap you in a hug, his hands cradling your baby bump as you made this sweet contented noise low in your throat, too quiet for anyone else to hear but him. And then you would turn in his arms and pull him into a kiss before asking how his day was. The two of you would enjoy dinner together before he would clean up while you rested your sore feet on the couch. Usually sex followed shortly after–pregnancy had made you quite insatiable in the bedroom, a perk Matt had certainly enjoyed.

"So I just stopped by to see Maggie on my way home. I wanted to have her over Friday night, remember? She said she’s looking forward to it and that you have the world’s greatest wife, but I’m guessing you already knew that.”

His smile widened, an ear turning closer to the speaker on his phone. Yes, he certainly had already known that.

“So don’t make Friday night Josie plans with Fog and everyone this week, okay? Just wanted to let you know! And also–” your voice dropped into something low and sultry, the tone of it raising the hair along Matt’s forearms even now, “–there’s an appetizer waiting for you in the bedroom when you get home. Hint: it’s me. See you real soon, Matty.”

Swallowing hard, he heard the automated voice once again abruptly cut through his office, the sound breaking through his efforts to pretend you were still here. It began reading off the next timestamp of the following saved message, Matt’s eyes opening as he frowned. If only he had more than your voice.

“Rise and shine sleepy Devil of mine! I ran out to grab coffee and pastries because you looked like you could use some cheering up after the night out you had last night. And apparently I was right, because somehow I managed to slip out of bed without waking you. Which is…honestly impressive. I’m impressed with myself. I’ve never managed that before. But I’ll be back soon–”

Three hesitant knocks came on Matt’s door and he jumped in his desk chair, realizing quickly that Foggy was now standing just inside his office. Matt reached out and picked up his phone, immediately saving the message before shifting his focus to Foggy who was tentatively making his way over to Matt’s desk.

“Hey, just checking in, man,” Foggy said. “It’s starting to get late so I was going to call it a night. Maybe you should, too.”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll just uh, gather my things,” Matt replied, forcing a smile onto his face. When Foggy didn’t move, he quickly added on, “You don’t have to wait for me, Fog. We both know I’ll get home safe.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Foggy said.

Matt began gathering up the scattered papers, but he was aware of the fact that Foggy was still standing there, adjusting the strap of his briefcase on his shoulder. Straightening the stack of papers he’d collected, he focused back on Foggy, raising his brows.

“Something else?” he asked.

“You were listening to her voicemails again,” Foggy pointed out.

Matt’s dark brows drew together, his hands gripping the stack of paper tighter. “Yes,” he answered.

“Don’t you think maybe you…shouldn’t?” Foggy asked him nervously.

Matt’s head tilted to the side, his senses scrutinizing his friend. He could hear the sudden uptick in Foggy’s heart, the increase in his body temperature, and he noted the way Foggy was now drumming his fingers nervously along the leather strap of his briefcase.

“Why?” Matt asked stiffly. “It’s all I really have left of her.”

“It’s just–it’s been almost three years, Matt,” Foggy said slowly. “Don’t you think maybe you should try to move forward? Try to date again?”

Slowly, Matt lowered the stack of papers back down to his desk. “She was my wife, Foggy. She still is,” he told him, a bitter edge to his words.

“But don’t you want to be happy again, man?” Foggy pressed, taking another step closer to his desk. “I mean, Matt, you’re like a shell of yourself. Ever since she disappeared. And I know I can’t possibly understand how you’re feeling and what you’re going through, but you’re just sitting and soaking in that pain and misery, man. Just marinating in it. Still listening to her old messages just to hear her voice. When are you going to try to live your life again? How long are you going to wait for her?”

Matt’s tongue slipped out between his lips, his focus shifting down towards his desk. Something sharp twisted in his chest at his best friend’s words. He knew he’d been tormenting himself over the past few years, still clinging to your small presence in his life in whatever way he could. Your clothes were still in his closet and taking up the left side of his dresser. That storage bin of baby items was still shoved in the left hand corner of his closet just underneath your blouses and skirts. He still bought your favorite coffee just so his apartment smelled like it always used to in the mornings whenever he brewed it now. And yes, he still listened to the six voicemails on his phone that he had of you. He wished he had more.

“I don’t know,” Matt whispered, the familiar threat of tears stinging at his eyes. “I don’t know, Foggy.”

“It’s not healthy, Matt,” Foggy said gently. “What you’re doing to yourself, it’s not healthy. You need to grieve and move forward. Move on with your life.”

“I–I don’t know if I can,” he confessed. 

“You’ve never tried,” Foggy pointed out. “Maybe you should.”

Matt could feel his lips beginning to tremble at the thought of moving on. Of putting both of you in his past. Just like so many others before you he’d had to grieve the loss of, now he was supposed to grieve for both of you? Accept that you were…really gone? Never coming back?

“I don’t mean you need to go on a date this week or even this month,” Foggy continued carefully. “I know you’re not quite there yet. But maybe you should try to stop listening to her messages? Maybe…get rid of the television you bought only for her? Take down the wedding photos? Because even if you can’t see them, I know you know they’re there. At least put them in a drawer or your closet.”

Matt exhaled a trembling breath, his mouth feeling like it was going dry. Was it really time for him to try to move forward? Or at least consider the idea of it? The thought of that had a sick feeling rolling in his gut.

“Matt?” Foggy asked hesitantly. “You alright?”

He cleared his throat a couple of times, his hand reaching out and finding his glasses on his desk. “Yeah, Fog, I’m fine,” he said, pulling the glasses on. “I’ll uh, I’ll give it some thought.”

“Alright, buddy,” Foggy replied, taking a step back. “I’m going to get back before Marci wonders what’s taking so long. Make sure you get some rest, we have that meeting at eight sharp tomorrow morning, okay?”

Matt gave a stiff nod, a tight smile sliding across his face. As he listened to Foggy turn to leave, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had a point. It wasn’t healthy what he was doing to himself day after day, year after year. Maybe he did need to consider moving forward. But even just the thought of that had a few tears trailing down his cheeks.

[stewblog]

The Black Phone

The Black Phone is like ordering a bacon cheeseburger that you thought might have some special sauce on it but doesn’t.

What you ate is really pretty good! All the ingredients are balanced well. The burger is grilled the way you like it. The bacon could probably have been cooked just a little better but it’s fine. It’s a tasty burger. You’re happy you ordered it. Everyone who went to the burger joint with you really seemed to love it too! But it needs a little something extra under the bun.

I’m not really a horror guy. It’s just never been my favorite genre and I really only get something out of certain segments of the genre. I feel like this should be made known simply for the sake of context, both for people who are big horror fans, as well as those who share my lack of exuberance for the genre. It just so happens, though, that The Black Phone is precisely the kind of horror movie that I gravitate toward: A clever concept wrapped around a plot and scenarios that are moody and more psychologically or supernaturally focused than something grisly and visceral.

We follow Finney (Mason Thames), a floundering 13-year-old boy who seems terminally incapable of standing up for himself, to the point where even his kid sister, Gwen (Madeleine McGraw) is more successful at fending off his bullies. Life is hard enough for most teens, but it’s especially difficult in this small Colorado suburb that’s struggling to deal with a rash of disappearances, all boys around Finney’s age. Gossip among the kids is that an abductor nicknamed The Grabber is responsible, but even the police are thus far stumped as to who or what is responsible for these disappearances. However, Finney soon finds out The Grabber isn’t just some school yard urban legend when he’s abducted and trapped inside a soundproofed basement containing little more than a mattress and a disconnected black rotary telephone.

Just what does The Grabber want from him? It’s unclear. But the only way Finney stands a chance of surviving is with the help of the mysterious voices that speak to him over the phone.

What ensues is a delightful exercise in ratcheted tension, measured progression and fostering a perpetual sense that anything could happen next. Director Scott Derrickson does a remarkable job of keeping things lively and engaging despite nearly half the movie taking place inside a bleak, concrete basement with his lead character talking to disembodied voices. He wisely knows how to best split the time between Finney and Gwen (who keeps having dreams related to the abductions), never letting us spend too much time sequestered in the basement. And while jump scares often feel lazy, Derrickson deploys a hat trick of them here that manage to at least feel superbly placed as a release valve for a scene and not just a cheap bit of punctuation.

Thames isn’t quite up to the task of shouldering the weight such a demanding scenario brings, but for a young actor he does well enough given the constraints. Though thankfully he has a superbly creepy antagonist to interact with in The Grabber, played to off-kilter perfection by Ethan Hawke. Hawke is one of my favorite working actors and it’s always a delight seeing superb actors play against type. Hawke’s face is hidden behind a segmented mask (one that should rightly become iconic in its own right) but he uses that obfuscation to fuel the unease with his measured voice and eerily calm demeanor.

Special praise must also be given to McGraw who turns Gwen into a little firecracker of a character, garnering some of the best laughs in the movie as well as providing a big part of its emotional backbone in some ways.

The true backbone of the film, though, is found in its script, penned by Derrickson and his longtime collaborator, C. Robert Cargill, based on a short story by none other than Stephen King’s son, Joe Hill. It moves with clockwork precision, never wasting a scene. Every moment that matters is set up for a satisfactory payoff that often garnered literal cheers from the audience. Gasps. Yelps. Applause. This delivers everything you’d want in an audience reaction from this sort of movie.

What makes the quality of the script so frustrating, though, is that it ends up highlighting how a very good movie could have been great. Because for as satisfying as The Black Phone is, it’s still lacking that extra punch from that special sauce, something to give it extra texture or depth of flavor. Everything that makes this movie satisfying is entirely on the surface. That makes it an easy watch, but it leaves you hungry for something a little bit more substantial later. This isn’t to say that Cargill or Derrickson are incapable of saying something through the movie, but it does feel like there wasn’t much of an attempt at doing so. The Black Phone feels like it’s lacking some larger subtext or even a deeper emotional payoff that simply never surfaces or arrives, respectively.

That said, the movie never feels like a too-slight experience despite this and is almost certainly one I look forward to revisiting, something I rarely do with horror films.

[leossmoonn]

Play Ground Days

masterlist

pairing - carl gallagher x fem!reader

type - fluff

note / request - “ughh FINALLY someone that writes good imagines abt carl from shameless! could you write one where you two grew up together and you've always been close n stuff and then at some point he realizes he loves the reader and he talks to ian and lip (maybe mickey too bc i love him) about it? (fem!reader btw if that's cool) thanks babe xx” thanks for inspo on the beginning @poesflygirl​ <3 ,,, carl and you are 16 also pls dont come for me ive only played COD 2 times last year so lmao i dont remember a lot about it, enjoy!

summary - carl has liked you since you two were young, and seeks advice from his brothers and mickey

warnings - strong language, drugs and alcohol, little talk about bad body imagine 

————

*gif isnt mine*

“I fucking knew it!” Lip exclaimed.

“Why are you telling us? We’ve known this.” Ian commented, smirking at his little brother.  

“How the hell—” Carl started. 

“You’re not exactly great at hiding your crush on her,” Mickey chuckled. 

Carl’s eyes were the size of saucers. “You knew?”

“Of course I did. I’m not fucking Helen Keller,” Mickey rolled his eyes. 

Carl groaned and ran his hands roughly through his hair. “I can’t believe this. Well, secret’s out, I guess. What do I do?”

“Just go tell her you like her. It’s not like she’s going to turn you down.” Lip shrugged, putting his cigarette to his lips. 

“Lip!” Ian hit his brother’s shoulder. 

“What?” Lip asked. 

“You weren’t supposed to say that, dumbass,” Mickey said.

 “What does that mean?” Carl asked, looking in-between his brother’s and Mickey. 

Lip sighed. “Ah, shit, right. I’ve already said too much.”

————

4 hours earlier: 2:00 PM

“Hey, shit head!” She called out, throwing rocks against the window. 

Carl got up from his bed, shocked but happy to see her. He opened his window, leaning against the frame. 

“What’re you doing here?” He asked.

She threw the rocks to the ground. “Escaping from my druggie dad, duh. What’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” Carl shrugged. 

She did her signature smirk that always made Carl’s heart flutter. “Wanna go and stuff our faces at Patsy’s Pies?”

Carl’s eyes lit up at the mention of fatty, greasy food. “Hell yeah. I’ll come down.”

She nodded, going to the front of their house. Carl ran down the stairs, putting on his shoes and opening the door to find her on the steps. 

“Hey, why didn’t you just come into the house?” Carl asked, shutting the door behind him. 

“Putting damage on your window seemed more fun. Oh, hey! Do you have an extra bed I can sleep in tonight?” She asked. 

Carl nodded. “Yeah, of course. Your dad is that bad, huh?”

“Yep, he relapsed. Super fun,” she laughed sarcastically. 

“I’m sorry. That shit sucks,” Carl said.

She shrugged. “Yeah, well, it’s life. Anyways, ready to go?”

Carl nodded. They got into her car, the girl starting it and driving fast to the dinner. As she was driving, humming to the songs on the radio, Carl stared at her. She was absolutely gorgeous. 

Her name was Y/n L/n. Carl’s oldest and only real friend. They had grown up together, Y/n living only a few houses away from him. They had met in detention in 1st grade and had been close ever since. 

“What’re you staring at?” Y/n asked, glancing over to him. 

Carl blushed. “Nothing.”

“Alright,” Y/n sang.

Carl had often been caught staring at her. It was something he usually did from time to time, but now it was more often. He couldn’t help it. There was something about her. Maybe flawless her skin was, how pretty and bright her smile and eyes were, the way she would make him feel secure and loved, something he had never got from anyone consitently. 

He never really knew why he thought those things about her. People had told him that he probably had a crush on her, but he knew that wasn’t right. He had crushes on girls before and the things he was feeling for Y/n were a lot different than what he had felt for his past girlfriends. He figured it was just that she was his closest friend and he happened to be a horny teenager, so naturally, he just thought those things about her. But oh, how wrong he actually was. 

Y/n parked her car at Patsy’s Pies. They walked into the diner, seeing Fiona at the register. 

“Hey, Fi,” Y/n smiled. 

“Hey, Y/n, Carl! Long time, no see. How are ya?” Fiona asked. 

“Good, good,” Y/n smiled. 

“Good,” Carl said. 

“Great! Well, get yourself seated and someone will be right with you,” she smiled. 

Y/n and walked off to a small booth and sat down. They picked up the menus that were already on the table. 

“You gonna get your usual?” Y/n asked. 

Carl shrugged. “Maybe. Should I change it up?”

“Yes. The double bacon cheeseburger looks good,” Y/n said. 

“Are you getting that?” Carl asked. 

“Maybe. I’ll probably get a salad or something. Gotta watch those calories, you know?” She half-joked, putting a hand on her stomach. 

“I think you look good. You don’t need to worry,” Carl smiled. 

Y/n’s eyes widened. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Carl nodded. 

Y/n looked back at the menu, hiding her embarrassment.

Carl complimenting her was something that was rare, but did happen. Y/n never remembered Carl as a romantic type of guy, but it seems that he had developed  those traits from having a few girlfriends. She liked that, actually. She liked him complimenting her, staring at her for minutes at a time, the way his ears would turn red when she teased him. She liked all of that. 

Y/n would never admit it to anyone, but she had a crush on Carl. She had a crush on him since their freshman year of high school. Well, in reality, she probably has always had one, but the first time she really realised she liked him was in biology when he got in trouble in one of the labs. She remembered when the teacher was yelling at him and he looked at her, smiling at her mischievously and winking at her. That wink had her heart racing and mind go foggy. From then on, she had liked him as more than a friend. Yet, she never said anything because well, as cliche as it was, she was afraid of ruining their friendship. He was really the only one who got her and who never abandoned her. She couldn’t lose him, so she just kept her feelings and gestures to him as friendly as she could.  

“Hi, I’m Carly and I’ll be serving you today. What can I get you today?” The waitress asked. 

“Hi, can I get the philly cheesesteak with a medium coke and fries,” Carl ordered. 

Carly nodded and wrote his order down, turning to Y/n. 

“Um, I’ll get the bacon cheeseburger with a small sprite and fries. Thanks,” Y/n ordered. 

Carly took their menus. “Great. I’ll have your drinks out soon.”

Y/n and Carl smiled at the waitress as she walked away. 

“Hey, so I thought your dad was in rehab,” Carl said. 

Y/n sighed. “He was, but I guess his girlfriend got him drunk, then convinced him to do some lines. God, I can’t believe he's even with her still.”

Carl frowned. “What about your mom? Where’s she?”

“She’s going to nursing school right now. She’s the only one responsible in this family, yet she never calls or anything,” she scoffed.

“You’re really responsible,” Carl said. 

Y/n smiled. “Thanks, C. You are, too.”

Carl laughed, “Me? I sold drugs on the streets once.”

She giggled. “True. But you’ve really shaped. I'm proud.”

Carl smiled sheepishly. “Thanks.”

Y/n hummed a ‘you’re welcome’. Carly came back with their food quickly and they dug in. Carl and Y/n spent their time talking and eating, spending about 2 hours there as they just kept talking. 

“Are you two finished?” Carly asked, gesturing to their empty plates. 

“Yeah,” Carl nodded. 

“Great. Here’s your bill, pay whenever you’re ready,” Carly smiled and took their dirty dishes. 

“Ready to go?” Y/n asked. 

Carl nodded and got out his wallet that he had in his shorts. Meanwhile, Y/n also got out her wallet. They both looked up at each other, awkward expressions on their faces. 

“Oh, I was gonna pay,” Carl said. “No, no, my treat. I invited you here,” Y/n said. 

“You sure?” Carl asked. 

She smiled and put a hand on his arm. “Yes, I am, Carl.”

Butterflies irrupted in Carl’s stomach as she touched him. He nodded slowly, putting his credit card away. Y/n and him walked up to the register and paid for their meal. They then went back to Y/n car. 

“What do you wanna do now?” Y/n asked. 

“Wanna play COD Black Ops 3?” Carl asked. 

“Yes!” Y/n smiled. She drove them back to his house, parking haphazardly on the street. 

The two hurried into the house, grabbing a seat on the couch. Carl got the controllers, turning onto the playstation. Y/n logged onto her account, selecting the gun she wanted to use. Carl then started the game. 

“Where are you?” Y/n squinted her eyes at the screen. 

“Right behind you,” Carl smirked. 

Y/n turned around, gasping as Carl shot her. 

“Fuck you!” Y/n exclaimed. 

“Little rusty, huh?” Carl teased. She rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna kill you next round.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Carl said. 

“Winner gets to pick what’s for dinner,” Y/n said. 

“Deal,” Carl nodded. 

The pair played for a couple hours, the game ending with Y/n getting the last kill. 

“Good game,” she smirked, setting the controller down. 

“I forgot how good you were at this,” Carl frowned. Y/n giggled, “I forgot how bad you were.”

Carl rolled his eyes with a smile. “Alright, where do you want to eat?”

“Hm… Noodles n Company?” She suggested. 

“Sure,” Carl nodded. 

“Alright, I’m gonna use the bathroom and then order. Text me what you want,” Y/n said, getting up from the couch. 

Carl nodded and watched her go upstairs to use the bathroom. Then that’s when Lip, Ian, and Mickey all came into the house. 

“Hey, guys,” Carl said. 

“Hey,” Ian smiled. 

“Is Y/n here? We saw her car out front,” Lip said. “Yeah, she is,” Carl nodded. 

“Asked her out yet?” Lip smirked. Carl’s face turned red. “Wh-What?”

“Oh, you’re not in love with her then?” Ian furrowed his brows. 

“I… am I?” Carl asked. 

Ian chuckled. “Yeah. You always are always happy around her, blush whenever she teases you.”

“And you’re always staring at her,” Lip added.

“That doesn’t mean I like her,” Carl said.

“Do feel dizzy and nauseous when she touches you? Does your heart race when she gets close? Do you see yourself kissing her? Would you do anything for her?” Ian asked. 

Carl furrowed his brows. They were right, all those things did happen when she was near. She was his best friend. He also sometimes think about kissing her and being with her in a romantic way. And yeah, of course he would do anything for her. Maybe… Maybe he did love her. 

“Oh, shit,” he muttered. “I… I guess I am in love with her.”

And that, ladies and gents, is where we left off. Lip, Ian, and Mickey teased Carl until Carl begged them for real help. 

“What do you mean?” Carl asked anxiously. 

Lip looked to Ian and Mickey for help on what to say. Little did Carl know, Y/n actually did admit her crush to someone. And that someone, or someones, were Lip, Ian, and Mickey. 

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Mickey said. 

“Did she say something to you?” Carl asked. “No,” Ian shook his head. “Like Mick said, don’t worry.”

“I… fine. Well, what do I do then?” Carl asked in slight distress.

“Give her some flowers and chocolate. Girls love that shit,” Lip suggested. 

“Alright,” Carl nodded. “I don’t know what her favourite flowers are, though.”

“Just get her roses. That’s really romantic,” Lip said. 

Carl smiled, “Alright. Awesome. Thanks, guys.”

He decided to get the flowers early morning tomorrow before Y/n woke up. 

————

Carl sneaked back into the house, hoping not to wake Y/n up. As he walked into the kitchen, he was shocked to see her at the table drinking coffee. 

“Hey, Carl!” Y/n smiled. 

Carl’s eyes were blown wide. “I.. uh…”

“Who are those for?” Y/n got up and pointed to the flowers and chocolate in his hand. 

“Um… you?” Carl said. Y/n smiled. “Me? What did I do to deserve this?”

Carl knew that he couldn’t make up an excuse. He was horrible at lying to her. So, he decided to just have his confession here. 

“I.. I’m in love with you,” Carl said. Y/n’s jaw dropped and she froze. “Wha-What?”

“My brothers and Mickey helped me realise I was yesterday when you were ordering dinner. They told me I should get you flowers and stuff so I did. I hope you like roses,” Carl explained and held up the gifts. 

Y/n’s lips upturned in a wide smile. “How long have you liked me?”

“Honestly, probably since we were little,” Carl shrugged sheepishly. 

Y/n giggled. “Me, too.”

“Really?” Carl smiled. 

Y/n waked up to him and took the gifts, setting them on the kitchen counter. She went up to him and put her arms around his neck. 

“Yep. I always have,” she grinned. 

“Oh, sick!” Carl exclaimed. “Oh wait.”

“What?” Y/n asked in confusion. 

“That’s what they meant!” Carl exclaimed in realisation.

“Who? What?” “Oh, Lip, Mickey, and Ian kind of told me yesterday when I asked for help,” Carl explained. 

Y/n’s eyes widened and she turned to the stairs, glaring. “Mickey, Lip, Ian! You better fucking run!”  

————

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[wearywinchester]

Back Again

Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When it’s time to say goodbye after a date, Dean finds that it’s a little harder than it looks to do just that.

Requested by @halietigges: “Hello! Can I please request a oneshot where Dean is driving the reader (gender neutral) home after a date and the two share a goodbye kiss before the reader leaves the car and returns back into their home?”

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none—fluff, kissing

You sigh as you smile, content as ever as you walked to the car. Dean’s hand enveloped yours, keeping you close as you made your way along the well worn path. It was quiet, save for the growing breeze and the birds chirping before sundown, save for the two sets of footfalls over gravel. The clouds were rapidly becoming abundant as the breeze continued on, but even the impending storm couldn’t dampen your mood, couldn’t dissolve the happiness simmering in your stomach.

You felt a bit of relief when you caught sight of the Impala, the raindrops falling against your skin having been sparse but you knew it was only a matter of time before they’d pick up their pace. You quickened your step as you pulled Dean along, hearing his chuckle behind you.

“Easy there, sweetheart. The car’s not going anywhere,” he says, teasing in his tone as he wraps his hand around the door handle, opening the passenger’s side for you.

You spun on your heel as you looked at him over the door, his amused gaze catching yours as he began to walk around the front end to get to the other side. He stops in his tracks at the mere smile on your face, his lip between his teeth as he awaits your next words.

“You know,” you start, your smile widening even more as you look at him, “you keep sayin’ that, and maybe one of these time Baby just might prove you wrong, Winchester.”

He rolls his eyes at that as you duck into the car, closing your door as he opens his. You don’t fail to see the smile tugging on the corner of his mouth or the shake of his head, or the laugh that leaves his lips softly. His hand hovered over the key that sat in the ignition, his words on the very tip of his tongue as your words replayed in his mind. That’s when he turned to you.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that, sweetheart?” He says, gaze fond as ever as he looks at you.

“You bet I do.”

His tongue swipes over his lips as he shakes his head once more, starting the car as his smile still lingers as he pulls out and looks at the road ahead. He turned on the radio, halfway through a song that he’d been quick to hum along to as he sped down the road.

It was the end of another date night amongst many, this one just as good as the last and the others before that. It was one that left you smiling to yourself as you looked out of the window at the trees and street lights passing by.

You’d gone to that diner in town, the one with those fries you swear are your favorite you’ve ever had. He knows that and it’s why he brings you there whenever he gets the chance, because that smile you’ve got on your face every time you get them makes it all worth it to him. That diner’s got that bacon cheeseburger he orders every single time without fail because nobody makes them quite like they do there. You know that and that’s why you pick that place every single time.

Your thoughtful reasons were unbeknownst to each other but still very much there each and every time.

He’d picked you up after he closed up at the garage for the day, having taken you straight to dinner the moment he found it in himself to stop looking at you like the lovestruck guy he knew he was. He’d never in a million years admit it though, no matter how much Bobby picks on him for it, no matter how much Sam teases him for it even for the years that built up to him finally asking you out on that very first date.

You were his best friend, the one he fell in love with and it took him a lot of stubbornness and a lot of Sam talking Dean out of backing out of making that move. He was glad he did and he wouldn’t admit that to Sam either.

He’d shown up on your doorstep with that famous Dean Winchester smile, the one that’d always seemed to be reserved just for you despite you being unaware of that fact. But just about everyone that knew the two of you were very much aware of it, it was hard not to be. You had your usual meal at that special diner you’ve alway found yourselves in one way or another for a number of years. You sat in your usual booth with all the contentment in the world as you sat there across from one another.

He’d snagged the last two slices of apple pie when it was nearing sundown, taking them to go and heading off to the one place you always went to. It was a quiet spot, nestled with trees standing tall all around the lake they framed. There was a wooden dock on the water’s edge, one you sat on together more times than you can count ever since you were teens who were too oblivious for their own good.

Now you were a couple of twenty-five year olds who’d finally worked up the nerve to be more than fools who’d pined for each other in secret, still oblivious to just how much you’d cared for one another.

You sat on the edge of that dock with your pie, a couple teasing jests shared amongst yourselves and bites stolen from the other’s slice. It was just the two of you there and you wouldn’t want it any other way than just that. It was your spot.

Dean Winchester wasn’t a man for fancy, best of the best restaurants, or the suits and ties and pristine fashion that come along with attending such a place. He wasn’t a man for wine and five course meals that cost way more than they’re worth. He loved greasy diner food and beer and the coziness that comes with eating in a place like that; it felt like home and it was comfortable. In fact, he’s still got some grease stains smudged across his cheek and under his nails from work. Still smudged on his t-shirt and the flannel he wore over top of it, his knuckles scraped up and busted from a car he can’t quite remember had been the cause.

He wasn’t one for expensive gifts, didn’t have the means for it despite the way he wanted to give you everything you deserve. It was one of the reasons he’d been so stubborn on talking himself out of taking you out on a date some time ago because he felt you deserved better than him, more than him, but that was something he’d push down forever because he’s quite sure that feeling wouldn’t ever go away.

Because despite that, he couldn’t keep himself from you, regardless of that nagging feeling he shoved down, he’d never be able to keep himself from anything that’s you.

But he wasn’t one for all that stuff in the movies and you couldn’t care less. You’ve got everything you need and there wasn’t a single thing you’d change about any of the dates he’d taken you on. You could do the same thing with him for forever and a day and not a single time would you find yourself growing tired of it so long as you did it with him.

You turned your head and looked at him, his gaze on the road as his elbow rested atop the ledge of the door as his hand draped loosely over the wheel. It didn’t take him very long to feel your gaze, his suspicions confirmed when he looks to his right and finds you smiling that smile at him, the one that makes him weak in the knees every single time.

He bites the inside of his cheek as he looks forward once more, and you know that look anywhere.

“You know, sweetheart,” he starts, throat clearing as the corner of his mouth quirks up a little more. “I heard if you take a picture, it might last longer.”

There it is.

You roll your eyes at his words, head shaking as you bite back your smile.

“You should maybe consider taking your own advice some time too, Winchester,” you say, your smile widening all the more at the look on his face, at the faux frown tugging at the corners of his mouth before his lips purse.

But that look didn’t last long, not at all as a quiet laugh fell from his lips.

You grinned as you looked down at your hands, at the small bouquet you held bunched in your loosened fist. It was a cluster of an assortment of flowers that didn’t match, picked spontaneously from the patches of wildflowers by the lake. It was something sweet that he thought of the moment he saw them, but it was something that made him make a mental note to get you a real bouquet next time.

But the small bunch of flowers grasped in your hand was more than enough for you, the look on his face when he’d plucked them from the ground and given them to you would be something stuck on your mind for a good long while and you were more than content with the idea of that.

The drizzling rain was steady as he pulled onto your street, the clouds having covered what was left of the sunset in favor of a looming gray, a contrast to the weather when he’d first picked you up. It didn’t seem like it would be stopping any time soon, heavy droplets pelting against the windshield and ricocheting off the hood of the Impala.

But that seemed to be the least of your concerns the very moment he pulled up in front of your house, parking along the curb.

You ran your tongue across your lips as you sigh, gaze looking out at the rain until it inevitably landed on green eyes as he’d done the same. He’d since turn the heat on low on your way home, seemingly a comfortable comparison to the chilly and gloomy evening weather just outside of the car. But when you met his gaze, just about everything else seemed to melt away and slip to the very back of your mind.

“I’m really starting to hate the idea of kissing you goodbye every time we go out on a date, you know,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“So, you hate kissing me goodbye?” You jest, head tilted as you try your hardest to bite back your smile.

His lips purse only momentarily as his eyes roll, tugging you all the more closer as his hand settles on your cheek. Your cheeks burn with a light heat as the warmth of his breath sweeps over your lips, his smile very much there.

“Sweetheart, you know what I meant,” he murmurs softly, lips pressing to yours in a kiss almost feather light, lingering there for a moment or two. “It’s the goodbyes I’m worried about.”

Your laughter is quick to simmer against his lips and dissolve into a hum just as quickly as it sounded, his lips warm against your own as the pad of his thumb brushes along your cheek. The tip of his freckled nose bumps against yours as he tilts his head, his own smile pressing into his kiss.

In not so perfect timing, a crack of thunder sounded, drawing your attention away from him and to the more than obvious fact that it might be in your best interest to head inside before the weather worsens.

Your gaze flickers from the windshield to Dean, his lips kiss swollen and pink as he swipes his thumb over his bottom lip with a sigh, his head tipping back momentarily. But he finds he can’t keep his eyes from you that long, the fondness of the look he’s got on his face mixed with the dread of parting ways for the night melding together in his expression.

He had his hand on the door handle, ready to get out and hurry you to your door in the rain before you stopped him.

“De, there’s no use in having you get rained on too,” you say, your brow raising when his lips purse. You knew he couldn’t care less about that but he also knew you wouldn’t budge. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, sweetheart,” he says quietly in the close proximity as you lean over the bench seat, kissing him once more.

You braced yourself as you stepped out into the rain, rounding the front end of the car before hurrying up the walkway to your front porch, the rain having dampened you being less than ideal. But he waited, he waited until you got up to your porch, waited until you got your keys after fumbling for them, waited until you opened your door and got inside safely before he even thought about pulling away. He always did that and he always would.

It wasn’t until you closed your door that you sighed, back pressed to the wood surface as a sigh left your lips, breathless from your rain dampened jog up to your house and breathless with utter content as your eyes fell closed for just a moment. Your smile still lingered just as it had done almost the entirety of the last few hours, sitting on your lips as you set your flowers down, set your keys on the table by the door.

You had to admit, goodbyes were the worst part of every date, of every bit of time spent with the older Winchester. The thought of it always had dread pooling in the pit of your stomach and it’d felt that way for as long as you could remember, but the both of you were far too stubborn to admit just how much you hated it.

But you didn’t have much time to think about it with the knock that sounded against your door.

You spun on your heel and twisted the door knob, opening it a crack before the smile tugged at your lips in an instant. When you opened it fully, green eyes stood on the other side of it under the covered porch, a half smirk on his lips as your flannel sat grasped in his hand. The one you kept in there for safekeeping should you find yourself running cold.

You take your lip between your teeth as you look up at him, your amusement more than evident in your expression.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re making excuses just to see me, Dean,” you say, matter of factly as your hand remains pressed on the edge of the door.

“What do I look like, some sappy rom-com guy?” He asks, trying his hardest to sound offended in the slightest bit.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

You watched those dimples appear by the corners of his mouth despite his ever present grin, his tongue wetting his lips as he looked away for a moment. Watched as droplets of water drip from the ends of his hair and roll down the bridge of his freckled nose to the very tip of it, dripping down to the ground.

You shake your head at his antics as you let go of the door, stepping out onto the porch.

“You really are something, Winchester,” you say.

You lean on your toes and settle your hands on his cheeks, lips brushing over his and your flannel drops from his hand in favor of wrapping around you his smile pressing into yours.

Goodbyes were what he’d dreaded most, even if he’d see you the very next day. It didn’t matter. You knew it’d be a matter of time before he’d shown up on your doorstep once more that night with a more than foolish excuse—he always did.

And you were fine with that.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @campingmonkey @deandaydreaming @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @taikawho

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

First Date

Summary: The reader accidentally sends an angry email off to a co-worker but winds up with a date instead...

Pairing: Landscaper!Dean x reader

Square: First Date

Word Count: 1,900ish

Warnings: language, fluff

A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo​​​​ . Enjoy!

_______

You yawned as you trotted out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee in hand down to your home office. You plopped down in your chair and got on your computer, checking your email with a tired hum. You saw an email from the facilities manager and sighed.

“Oh come on,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I’m work from home now, jackass. Refund my parking pass. That was like five hundred bucks.”

You growled and typed out an angry email in response, getting so fed up when you finished you knocked your coffee all over your computer.

“Shit!” you said, grabbing some tissues and moping it up.

You saw a sent message appear on screen and you shook your head.

“No. No. No, I didn’t send that. Recall, recall,” you said, shoving the tissues aside. It’d already been opened though and the recall failed, your jaw dropping. “No! I just moved into this house! I can’t afford to get fired.”

You grabbed your phone and decided to bite the bullet, trying to dial the guy when you got an email back.

As highlighted in my original message below, your refund will show up next month along with all other refunds to staff now working from home.

You hit reply and started writing an apology, praying he didn’t report you to HR.

I’m so sorry. It was an accident. I wrote it to express my frustrations and had no intentions of ever sending it. I’m deeply embarrassed, Mr. Winchester, and apologize once again.

You bit your bottom lip and waited a minute, getting a response back.

Thank you for your apology, Ms. Y/L/N. Seeing as today is my last day and it was a mistake, I see no reason to pursue this further.

“Ah, thank you, thank you,” you said. “Now let’s deal with this coffee.”

Two Weeks Later

“So what’s the damage?” you asked. The man in the flannel and baseball cap wrote up a tally on his clipboard before looking back at the house and yard again.

“Normally, for total lawn maintenance, that includes your weeding, trimming, spring and fall clean up, etc. for a lawn this large, you’re looking at around eighty a week,” he said. “But we’re trying to break into this neighborhood so let’s call it fifty a week. We get ten yards around here, we’ll knock it down to forty. How’s that sound?”

“Fifty for everything?” you asked. “Including the snow removal?”

“We’ll negotiate a separate contract for that but I’d call that about 350 for that season,” he said. “So. We have a deal?”

“For fifty bucks, you got a deal,” you said, shaking his hand.

“Perfect. I will have a contract written up and sent over to you this evening,” he said. He dug around into his back pocket and pulled out a business card.

“Super Natural Lawn Services,” you said. “Winchester.”

“Hm?” he said, writing something down on his clipboard.

“Name sounds familiar is all,” you said.

“Used to be in charge of managing the grounds at a local place until they decided to have their staff work from home. Ms. Y/L/N,” he said with a smirk. 

“Oh my…” you said, Dean chuckling. “I am so-”

“I like running my own business a lot better,” he said. “Besides, you apologized. We’re all good. We’ll get that contract straightened out and I’ll get a team over Friday morning to start on your landscape design.”

“I really am sorry, Mr. Winchester. I-”

“Y/N. It’s good. I promise. I’ll see you around, okay?”

You nodded and he headed back to his car, giving you a wave as he drove off.

Two Weeks Later

“Hey, Dean?” you called from your front porch. He poked his head up from where he was head first in a notebook, staring at the dirt edge around your house. “You want a drink? It’s really hot out.”

“I’m okay,” he said, sweating pouring off of him.

“You want to come into the air conditioning for a minute?” you asked. He was about to say no when he took off his hat and his hair was soaked with sweat. “Come on.”

“Alright. Just for a minute,” he said. He hopped up onto the porch and stepped into your foyer, letting out a sigh. “Okay, that’s nice.”

“You like lemonade?”

“Sure,” he said. He took off his boots and followed you to your kitchen, taking a seat at the table when you waved him down. You brought over a large glass, Dean gulping it down. “Do you have a minute? Now that your lawn is in good shape, I have a few ideas for landscaping near the house if I could pick your brain.”

“Sure,” you said. He flipped open his notebook and showed you a drawing, your eyes wide. “You drew that? It’s great.”

“Do you like that kind of style? It’s minimal upkeep but it’s not barren out there this way,” he said.

“I love it. How much does that cost?” you asked.

“It’s part of your weekly bill. I have a few other ideas in here you can take a look at and tell me which you like best,” he said. You flipped through the notebook with him, still liking the first one the most. “Alright. We’ll get that going for you then.”

“My neighbor was asking about you the other day. I gave her your name,” you said.

“Fingers crossed we get a bit more business around here then,” he said as he stood up. “I’ll get out of your hair now. Thanks for the drink, Y/N.”

One Month Later

You hummed as you sat on your front porch with your morning coffee, watching Dean across the street and walk around a yard with his team. They’d already done your yard for the week and you knew Dean was up to about six or so houses in the development. With a big stretch you glanced over to your car and saw something on the windshield. You got up and walked over, plucking off a note.

Found a problem with one of your plants. Rabbits were eating it. I’ll replace it later today.

You looked across the street just as he looked over. You gave a wave and he returned it before you headed back inside.

Four hours later you were getting home from the store to find another note stuck up against your front door.

Plant should be all good now. Enjoy your weekend.

“Hey,” you heard behind you and you nearly jumped out of your skin. “Sorry.”

“Hi, Dean,” you said. “S’alright. I got your note.”

“It was a simple fix,” he said. “I actually am looking for my work gloves. I either left them at your place or the Jones’ but I didn’t find them over there.”

“Are they black?” you asked.

“Yeah. You find them?” he asked. 

“Maybe they’re near my new plant,” you said, nodding your head. He looked over and they were on the grass beside it.

“Ah. That’s what I get for taking calls while working,” he said. He grabbed them and started to leave, pausing at the driveway. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“You single?”

“Why?”

“Cause if you’re dating someone, I don’t think my odds of getting a date will go very far,” he said as he spun around. You smiled and leaned against the porch post. “Single?”

“Why would you want to date me? I was very rude to you once.”

“You were pissed about throwing money away for no good reason. Trust me, I got plenty of emails that day. You’re the only one that apologized. Plus you may have once told the grumpy guy in the cafeteria to go do a job that makes him happy.”

“You knew who I was when I emailed you, didn’t you.”

“Yeah. I looked you up at work. You were nice back then. You always offer my crew cold water if you’re home. I just like you,” he said.

“Pick me up at seven,” you said as you spun around. “You decide what we’re doing.”

“Alright,” he said. “I wouldn’t advise a dress and heels.”

“Now I’m intrigued. I’ll see you later then, Dean.”

“Yes you will, sweetheart.”

“Hi,” said Dean when you opened your front door just before seven. You laughed when he held out a packet of flower seeds. “They’ll go great in a planter on the porch.”

“Thanks,” you said. You put the packet inside and locked up, following him to his car. “So what are we doing?”

“I figured we could do something and grab a bite after if that’s okay?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said. “Were you thinking of a movie?”

“Hopefully it’s more fun than a movie,” he said. “Trust me.”

“Okay, that is the most fun I’ve ever had on a first date,” you said, Dean chuckling as you both turned in your helmets. “I did not even know there was go-karting in this town. Like really nice go-karting too.”

“We could come back sometime,” he said. “I don’t know about you but I’m starving.”

“Same,” you said. 

“Well follow me then,” he said, walking past his car in the parking lot and headed for the street. He took your hand and you walked across over to a diner, Dean walking the two of you inside and to a booth by the corner.

Twelve minutes later you had a double bacon cheeseburger with jalapenos in front of you along with a basket of fries and onion rings. You dug in, Dean smiling to himself as he enjoyed his own burger.

“Too much?” you said.

“Save room for dessert. They have out of this world sundaes,” he said.

“If it’s as good as this burger, I’m sold,” you said. “So what made you want to have a landscaping business?”

“I get to be outside, do some hard work but some mental work too. We’re doing pretty good for our first year,” he said. “I didn’t like my old job very much.”

“It sounds like this one is working out for you.”

“It is. Probably would have taken me longer to ask you out if I hadn’t sort of known you already but I don’t mind,” he said, taking one of your fries.

“You flirt with all your customers or just me?”

“Just you,” he said. “How’s it working out so far?”

“Pretty good. Want to go catch the music fest downtown after our meal? Main act comes on at nine,” you said. “Unless you’re not into rock.”

“Oh, sweetheart. You and me are gonna get along just fine.”

_____

[spookysmujer]

Maraschino pt.2, O. Diaz

Summary: After the rejection from Oscar, things seems to take you on a roller coaster ride. 

warnings: angst, f e e l s, theTEAbeenSPILLED ☕️ daddy issues

word count: 3.5K

a/n: Here is the highly requested part 2 of Maraschino! I had fun writing this though if it is trash it’s because I wanted to hurry and get it out for y’all since I been getting msgs. heh. But Ray? Whew chile, the ghetto! Part 3? Please enjoy and don’t forget: follow the blog, heart/comment/reblog the content as well as turn on the notifs! (Y/S/N: your sister’s name)

(gif belongs to @thesewickedhands​ ✨)

 “Have a wonderful day!”

God, why is the person yelling? You smile weakly and squeeze your eyes nearly shut as the sun is blazing down on you while you say your thanks and exit the uber. The throbbing of your head and the loud lawnmower from one of your neighbors has you internally cursing.

How did you end up like this? Granted this was the plan last night to go out and have a good time, you certainly did not expect to be doing such a thing. You never let yourself get to this point before. But you also never got denied like you did with Spooky last night. A shiver goes through your body as you think of him. You won’t let him infiltrate your mind no more.

“Y/N!” Your sister’s voice sounds frantically as you round the corner of the house.

Well there goes your plan to sneak in through your window to pretend you were in your room all along. She wraps your arms around you, gluing herself to your body causing you to stumble back a bit. “You are a dead woman walking!” She whispers to you as you arch an eyebrow at her. 

As confused as you were, José appears from around the corner taking long strides towards you. His face sports no emotion of missing you but a lot of anger. It causes you to automatically back up the closer his approaches you. Your sister has since removed herself from you as your brother is now in your face.

You blink as you peer up at him, “Where the fuck have you been, hermana? You know how much shit you are in, hm? I get a call from Y/S/N saying you aren’t home. I assure her you would be and when she calls me at 6 in the morning telling me that you still aren’t in? You left a note?”

“José! Calmate, I went out with a friend. And I spent the night. What’s the big deal about that?” You briefly explain yourself. He laughs for a moment before grabbing you by your upper arm and pulling you towards your sister. Now it’s her turn to start backing up, “Ven aqui, her! That’s the big deal. When I ask you to be the sister you need to be, I don’t mean when you feel like it. You know the Santos have been getting into heavy shit lately. I need you here when I’m not!” 

The tension is thick as you pull your arm from his hold and push him, “But when you wanna go and do whatever it’s okay? When you wanna hitch a ride with Spooky to Sin City with dirty ass hynas last week, it’s all good. Business trip, huh? Don’t come for me when you are far from perfect!” 

The two of you are both very stubborn with your brother usually being calm and collected while you’re more expressive with your feelings. Family is important to him especially considering it’s just the three of you. Jose scoffs as you stomp away from him and your now crying sister. 

Oscar suddenly appears in front of you as round the corner and collides with his body. He reaches out to grasp you before you can stumble back, the feelings hitting you all at once, “What are you doing here?” You swallow thickly.

He licks his bottom lip as his eyes rake over your body. Still in your dress from last night, hair unruly and make-up smudged. Anyone can spot a ‘walk of shame’ when they see one. He laughs internally thinking of how you wasted no time after last night’s rejection.

“I offered to drive him when little hermanita called up again worried you weren’t home yet. Seems we know why now.” A small grin painted across his lips, you squint your eyebrows at his words as you hear your brother approaching the two of you. You step back before Spooky migrates his eyes to behind you, “We got business, everything good here?”

José nods and steps beside you, “Don’t be leaving.”

The two guys leave as you stand there a bit dumbfounded. Y/S/N appears next to you and grabs your hand. She apologizes for you getting into trouble with José. You want to yell at her for starting unnecessary drama. But she explains she didn’t want your brother to potentially find out about your little sneaky link with Spooky.

“Well, he and I ended that shit so nothing to worry about. I went out and got wasted. I am done with these guys. No más!” Though even sounding like fake news to yourself, you go and wash off last night’s memories. 

As the day had gone by, you skimmed through your daily journal of all the entries you wrote about Oscar ‘Spooky’ Diaz, ripping them out. All 6 pages. You roll your eyes at your thoughts about him, some sappy and some nasty. How did you believe a man who runs a street gang, that is as mean mugging as Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street, would be into you the way you are him?

It didn’t matter the answer now. Good riddance of him! That’s when the sound of your window opening pulls you from the wandering thoughts. You stand up quickly, reaching for a bat that’s besides your bed. “Get the fuck out!”

“Calmate! It’s me, Oscar.”

You clutch your chest, doubling over to catch your breath. “What is wrong with you? Ever think of flying a pebble at the window or calling first?” You say as he climbs in, adjusting his flannel before closing the window then your room door. You watch him as he starts to look around your room. Though there’s a part of you that wants him out, you haven’t made any advances to get him out.

He sits on your bed and finally looks at you, “Abajo.”

Uncompliant, you cross your arms and shift your weight to make it known you are fine standing there. He smirks and looks away before locking eyes with you. “You don’t think I like you too? You think I fucked with you for this long cause it was just convenient? Girls everywhere around my place but I was only fucking you. Why do you think that?”

“Is this supposed to be your sweet confession that makes me go all heart eyes? You're gonna apologize and I’m supposed to forgive you and then we give us a try and realize all our worries were nothing but fear that our anxiety instilled in our heads? Because that’s not how it’s gonna go.” You say as he gives you a semi-disgusted look.

You chuckle softly and watch him intently.

Oscar analyzes you closely. It’s a front, no doubt he thinks. He doesn’t deny the thought that you are a thick-skinned woman. He knows you have a superior mind and a mouth to go with it but he knows there is no way that you could’ve gotten over him that quick. Though judging by your appearance earlier in the day, you definitely tried.

You laugh a little more as you step in front of him and lean over to get your vision in line with his. “You made it clear to me and now I’m making it clear. Nothing you say will convince me that you give a rat’s ass about me. If you really did? There would be no sneaky link shit. You wouldn’t have a problem with people knowing about me, or my brother knowing but it is a problem so get out.”

This ticks Ocscar off a bit. He stands which makes you straighten up as he gets in your face, stepping towards you. You are stepping back slowly as he creeps more, “You think you can handle this lifestyle? The constant threats, the territories? You can’t. When it comes to this kind of life, something like love can be the bane of your existence. So we don’t get into it. We don’t get involved because the people we fall for end up dead.”

You’re pressed with your back against the wall and your chests against each other. Oscar’s eyebrows are connected and he’s staring at your agape mouth. His breath is fanning against your lips, emotions hitting you all at once. “I-I slept with someone last night. Got it good too.”

The jealous tactic seems to fail immediately as Oscar laughs. And for some reason the look of amusement on his face seems to be familiar for a reason you can’t seem to figure out.

“Sleeping around is simple, falling for someone is something else entirely. I’m not saying that we jump into something. But at least you know now it’s not just one-sided.” He steps out of your room. You follow and watch him walk down the hall as Y/S/N stands there. She is stunned seeing Oscar nonchalantly trek through the house.

You don’t know what to say. As you look at your little sister, you sigh in defeat trying to explain this one. Instead you go back into your room and shut your door. You got what you wanted, right? But you still feel like something is missing. 

The week had slowly crept on.

A few shifts at the bodega, classes at the community college and life at home. Jose had basically converted you back to your teenage ways. Making sure you were doing your part in parenting your little sister. Friday night Y/S/N wanted to have Dwayne’s BBQ for dinner and since your social life is drier than your skin, you agree. 

The thought of a  BBQ bacon cheeseburger lifts your mood which has been dragging throughout the week. Your sister happily skips into the restaurant as you trail behind slowly, when you enter you look for her and see she chatting up with Dwayne. 

“Y/N!” José calls out and your vision unfocuses from them onto your brother and pile of Santos in a booth. They all look your way including Oscar. You exhale a deep breath through your nose as you put on a fake smile and wave before stepping up to place an order. 

 Your brother approaches you as you look past him to the booth of Santos, “Didn’t know you guys would be here.” He sets down a $20 bill on the counter when the cashier tells you the total. “Foos gotta eat too.” José starts talking to you about something but your focus falls back on Spooky again. You watch as he stands and makes his way towards you. A small panic sets in your chest but fades away as he ends up exiting the BBQ joint. 

Unknowingly to yourself, your watch as he walks to his car. He leans against it and pulls out a cigarette, no matter how hard you try to avert your eyes from him, you can’t. All week you had been doing fine. Even with the little things reminding you of him, even with the memories that have been seeped into your bed. You didn’t dwell too much on thinking of him until you see him now. 

“Talk to him.” 

It’s just like the movies where the car tires come to a screeching halt and there’s the obnoxious crashing sound. You move your eyes to your brother’s. Did he just say what you think he said? “Talk to him? Spooky, what for? Why would I need to talk to him?”

Jose chuckles, “Hermana, I had my suspicions about you two. Then he told me bout it, he acts like it doesn’t bother him much but it does so go talk to him. Yeah, I’m not so thrilled that he’s messing around with my baby sister. I know how he is but I know he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt you so I’m cool with it. So go talk to him, figure that shit out because I’m getting over you moping around the house.”

You push him away as you look back to the red impala.  After a moment of contemplating it, you decide to head out and approach Oscar, he had his eyes on you since he settled by his car. You lean on it besides him and cross your arms, “You told my brother?”

He smirks and shrugs his shoulders. You try your best to keep the smug look off your face. He holds out the cigarette, you take it and inhale. Coughing a bit as the smoke burns your throat a little. You hand it back and sigh, turning to look at him.

“I like you, you like me. I’m not saying we jump into something… but why not?” You question as he exhales some smoke, you lock your eyes into his, “You ain’t cut for this lifestyle, you would be a liability. Plus your brother in my line of work? That makes him vulnerable as well. It woul--”

You groan loudly which quiets him mid-rant, “Drugs, alcohol and money do all the same things to him too. You see how he is when he gets wasted. There are so many things that make you all vulnerable. If he can make it work with the hyna he’s with, then you can make it work with me. Plus I know this lifestyle more than you think. I know when and where to be and not to be. I know who to know and who not to know. I know things! So don’t act all big bad Spooky to me.”

Now standing directly in front of him and he’s peering down at you. He dips his face lowers and looks at your lips as you look at his. In no time your lips are connected. Oscar slides his hands over your waist, gripping it and pushing you flush against him. You bring your hands to cup his face, letting your tongue slip into his mouth. A full on make-out session breaks out.

As if you didn’t dream of something like this happening you smile into the kiss, pulling away, “You get into this with me, it’s not gonna be glitter and gold. This shit is tough, I can’t be worrying about the things I already do plus you.” You nod and kiss him again, wringing your arms around his neck, he hugs you and feels calm for the first time in a while.

So you enjoy the night more than you thought you would be. With your siblings and the Santos at Dwayne’s. After a night of chatting, Oscar asks you to come back to his place. And well since it isn’t your first rodeo, you agree and send Y/S/N home with José. 

You don’t keep your hands off him while heading back to his place, you are pressed against him and kissing his neck, he is loving every moment of it. The both of you get out to head into the house but the mood is killed when you walk in to find Cesar and his friends on the couch who get frightened due to the scary movie playing on the TV.

Oscar cursing under his breath, “Can’t you watch movies at some else’s house?” You elbow him as he rolls his eyes. But Cesar didn’t want to start anything with his older brother so he asks Jamal if they can continue watching at his house. Soon after the house is empty and quiet again. The two of you settle on the couch, you straddling him and pulling your top off.

“Yo! There’s someone posted up outside!” Cesar suddenly bursts through the door which causes Oscar to push you off him and reach for his gun. He tells the younger Diaz, his friends and you to stay put as he checks out the fool that runs up on the Santo trap house. You scramble to put your shirt back on and curse when Cesar trails after his brother. You follow in pursuit, trying to tell Cesar that Oscar said to stay inside. “Who is that?” 

“Ray?” You say out loud though you thought you were just thinking it.

Oscar turns to you when you say the name of none other than his estranged father. You look to both Ray and Oscar, looking at the two men and making the connection. You feel the color get sucked out of your face, oh fuck.

“You know him, who is he?” Cesar asks you and he looks at Oscar. The Santo leader has his eyes on you and is still confused as to how the hell you know his father. “He’s our father.” Oscar says, still looking at you.

The confirmation makes you want to be obliterated right in your very spot. This can’t be happening! Is it? You try to speak but nothing comes out of your mouth. You finally look to Ray who has a small smirk on his face and that’s why that look Oscar had on his face that day seemed so familiar. You saw it that night you went out of town to have a good time. 

“Hola de nuevo, pequeña coyote.” Ray says looking at you. 

You grimace as Oscar connects the dots himself. The amount of heat that settles into your face along with the gasps from Cesar’s friends don’t make it any easier to bear.

“Wait Oscar, wait!” He is stepping towards his father, ready to charge. “I didn’t know he was your dad! Listen to me, please!” You step forward quickly and pull his arm back, he yanks it out of your grasp quickly as you plead for him to listen to you.

Oscar begins to snap at you, “Him? This is who you slept with and you want me to listen to explain? Huh?!” The anger booms in his voice as he is mere inches from your face. Cesar appears next to you trying to get between the two of you. You didn’t think Oscar could ever get so mad. And you have seen the Santo leader in moments of rage before. 

“Mijo, listen..” 

Ray’s voice sounds from behind Oscar now. He turns and wastes no time in welcoming him with a right hook. His father stumbles back as you gasp along with the sounds from the teens. “Oscar!”

You take the initiative to stand between the two of them, holding out a hand against Oscar’s chest as he is heaving and exuding anger. Ray is mending to his jaw as he stands up. You notice the lights of the neighbor had turned on and people were beginning to pile outside of their homes to see all the commotion.

“Oscar just stop and listen to me for one fucking second! No, I did not sleep with Ray. We did get together that night, yes but we didn’t do anything that involves other body parts. I started going off about you with him, I vented and we spent the night drinking. I got too wasted and he offered to let me spend the night in his motel room. Nothing happened!” You release in one breath. 

Everyone looks at you, unable to make sense of the situation. 

“That’s why I came, when she mentioned things about you, I had to come see for myself if what niña said is true. That you’re running the Santos.” The two men stare at each other as you stand in the middle. Your heart is racing. 

Oscar doesn’t say anything as he looks back and forth between his father and you. When you step towards him and reach out to grab his hand, he raises his hand up in defense and steps back. You can see the glint of hurt in his eyes as he backs away from you. Your eyes pleading for him to try to understand everything.

You trail behind a fuming Oscar into his house, you are nearly jogging when you catch up with him. But he steps into his room and slams the door in your face. You step back and sigh. “Please talk to me…Oscar. Nothing happened, you have to believe me.” 

He doesn’t respond as you rest your head on his door. You hold your hands on the door silently cursing yourself. What could you say that made the situation sound better? How could you make it look like it really was nothing even with Ray right there?

A few moments have passed by when the door opens, a still very upset Oscar stands there as he flies forwards a bunch of crumbled paper at you. You watch as the papers fall to your feet and he slams the door in your face again. No context of nothing. 

When you pick up the papers, it’s drawings of you. Portraits sketched out from a ballpoint pen. Some dated as far back as a month ago to as recent as a few days ago. Oscar drew you. He did so multiple times and in such craft it takes your breath away. 

You feel the tears begin to well in your eyes. The pain that you have caused him. How do you fix this?

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[liberty-barnes]

The Swear Jar

Part 1 of The Jar Series

Mob Boss!Tom Holland x Single Mom!Reader

Prompt: “I've never said a single fucking swear word in my whole damn life”

Warnings: swearing obviously, Tom’s a mob boss so there’s that, there’s like, one sexual innuendo but also ??? not really??? idk

Word Count: 4k (i really need to learn to write short things)

Estimated Reading Time: 16 minutes

A/N: It’s the pic guys, I can’t help it.

Edit: Wow, you guys actually liked this! So since many of you asked, a part will be coming out soon, maybe more, we’ll see. So if you wanna be added to my “The Swear Jar” Taglist, just ask me or add yourself directly through the link in my bio!

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

The bell above the door to the diner chimed and you perked up, smiling brightly at the young teenage couple.

“Gracie! Stella! It’s so good to see you again!”

The girls greeted you with the same amount of enthusiasm and proceeded to order their usual meal.

“Your hair’s really pretty Stella! You look like a mermaid now!”

“Thanks, Millie! I took your advice and went with blue instead of purple.”

The young girl smiled and captured the couple’s attention by showcasing her current work in progress.

Millicent Rose (Y/l/n) was your five-year-old daughter. She had brown hair, falling on her shoulders in nice large curls, and big (y/e/c) eyes, a perfect match to yours. She loved drawing (the diner walls were crawling with her masterpieces) and pretty hair, especially if it was soft. 

Her bubbly and fearless personality sometimes frightened you, but you mostly came to terms with the fact that your daughter was a social butterfly and took full advantage of the small diner to interact with as many people as she could.

You watched with a fond smile as Millie explained what she had been drawing to the girls, mentioning every little detail while they praised her good work. The young brunette had a gift to make anyone love her.

Soon enough, their large milkshake to share was finished and Lou, the owner and cook, was all done with the food so the girls sat down at a booth and Millie went back to drawing, little feet dangling off the chair and little brows furrowed in concentration. 

As you were refiling Mr and Mrs Lee’s drinks, the bell chimed once more and four men walked in dressed in stylish suits, much too fancy for this place. They sat down at a booth and started talking while you took a deep calming breath.

Oh, fuck me.

You took your notepad and walked over to them, a much too fake smile on your face.

“Good morning gentlemen, what can I get you?”

The table quieted down and you made eye contact with who you knew to be the leader.

“I’ll have a burger with fries and a strawberry milkshake.”

One of the twins said.

“I’ll have the same but with a chocolate milkshake instead.”

The other one added.

“Vegi burger and a coke, please.”

At least the blonde one had some manners. 

Your eyes lifted from the notepad to the leader once again.

“And for you?”

You did your best to ignore the slight tremble in your voice.

“Bacon cheeseburger, fries and a coke, darling.”

“Right away.”

You got out of there as soon as possible, sparing a glance at your daughter to make sure she was still sitting at the counter before entering the kitchen with a panicked expression on your face.

“Lou…”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“You’ve got an order… for the Hollands…”

“Well, shit.”

The Holland family was the oldest and most successful mob in London, extremely rich, dangerous, and seemingly untouchable.

Harry and Sam Holland, the twins, were rumoured to have been behind the Burtons’ death, another famous family known for drug trafficking and other crimes.

Harrison Osterfield, the second in command, was a close family friend, accused of drug trafficking, illegal weapons selling, and other such crimes, though the charges all dropped before the first hearing even took place.

And finally, Thomas Holland, the leader. Arrested for multiple murders, arson, extortion, and a long list of other felonies, but never convicted.

Everyone was scared of them, and the fact that they were eating here was not good for business. 

You ignored the tightness in your chest in favour of helping Lou prepare their food, hoping to do it as fast as possible so the group could leave.

Meanwhile, at the booth, Tom was rolling his eyes at his brothers and friend’s stupidity. 

“Okay, we get it, she’s hot, but you don’t have to talk about it all the fucking time.”

Millie turned her head in their direction and scowled. She stretched a bit to the other side of the counter to take the transparent jar and got down from her chair, making her way to their booth, stomping a bit, which made her Sketchers light up.

The diner watched with curious (and slightly frightened, for the Lees) eyes as the little girl climbed onto the booth next to Harrison, one leg after the other, and kneeled next to the blonde, setting her elbow on the table and stretching so the transparent jar was now sitting in front of Tom.

He looked at it: a lid-less mason jar with a pink bow and right in the front, in a child’s handwriting and pink glittery letters were the words 'Swear Jar’.

“You owe a pound.”

He lifted his head to look at the girl.

“I beg your pardon?”

“When someone says a bad word they have to put a pound in the jar. You said a bad word so you owe a pound.”

“I’ve never said a single fucking swear word in my whole damn life!”

“That’s two more so you have to put three pounds in.”

“Yeah, Tom, put the money in.”

Harrison had his arms around the girl and a smug smile on his face, evidently taking a liking to the young brunette.

“Shut the fuck up Haz, you curse more than I do!”

“Four.”

“Shit.”

That one was not on purpose.

“Five.”

“Okay, okay, jeez, hold on.”

He took out his wallet and took his only five-dollar bill amid all the hundreds.

“Just gonna put the money in this stupid jar.”

“Six.”

“Wha- stupid’s not a swear word!”

“I’m not allowed to say it so yes, it is.”

Tom rummaged around his wallet for a stray pound, reluctantly putting a hundred in after finding nothing.

“Does that mean I’m allowed to say ninety-nine swear words?”

“No paying in advance, everything that’s not the money you owe is a donation.”

“To what foundation?”

“The ‘get Millie new glitter pens’ foundation”

She answered with a smirk and everyone -bar Tom- was pretty much crying at seeing their boss be told what to do by a five-year-old.

“Man, you are so screwed!”

“That’s one pound for you, Mister!”

“Oh shit, right!”

“Two…”

Harry took out his wallet (still laughing his arse off, mind you) and didn’t even try to look for the two pounds, simply putting in a hundred.

Millie’s eyes were focused solely on Tom’s hair. She climbed on top of Harrison, her pink tulle skirt flying behind her and stood on the seat next to the brunette, her hands immediately flying to his hair.

“You have very pretty hair. It’s really soft.”

“Thank you, darling.”

She hummed and kept playing with the soft strands.

“My name’s Tom, and these are my twin brothers Harry and Sam, and my best friend, Haz.”

She looked around for a while, not answering, seemingly lost in thought until she looked back at him and her sparkling (y/e/c) eyes focused on his brown ones.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy. I’m Millie.”

“T-Tommy?”

Sam stuttered out between peels of laughter.

“I don’t like Tom, Tommy’s better. Why are you so shocked Twin Nice?”

Harry looked appalled.

“Why's he Twin Nice?”

“Because you said a bad word and he didn’t, so he’s Twin Nice and you’re Twin Naughty.”

Sam did a little victory dance, bragging about his new nickname to his twin.

The little girl sat down on Tom’s lap and started to play with the black ring on his finger.

“What am I, then?”

She looked up to Harrison from in between Tom’s fingers, still playing with the thick band.

“You’re Thor cause you have pretty eyes and you look really strong.”

To say that the blonde was pleased would be an understatement.

“You, little lady, are my new best friend. We need to come here more often.”

Millie smiled and went back to observing the ring.

“Does this mean you’re married?”

Tom chuckled and shook his head slightly.

“No, it means that I’m a part of the Holland family, like them.”

Everyone around the table showed theirs, a symbol of their high status in the mob.

“So you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Do you live with your mommy?”

“No, I live with these dumbasses in a big house.”

She pushed the swear jar towards him and gave him what could only be described as the 'Disappointed Mom’ look.

“Do you like it?”

“Kind of, sometimes they get on my nerves and I wish they’d rot in Hell, but yeah, it’s not too bad.”

She slapped his hand in reprimand and he internally cursed himself.

“Don’t you miss your mommy?”

“A little, but I see my parents every Sunday for family dinner.”

He answered after placing yet another bill in the jar.

“Parents?”

“Yeah, my mum and dad.”

She hummed.

“I wish I had a dad.”

The boys all stiffened. 

Well, that escalated quickly.

Tom cleared his throat, measuring his words before speaking, for once in his life.

“Do you know what happened to your dad?”

“Mommy says he left cause he wasn’t good like her. She says it’s okay, though, cause we only need each other but my friend Lilly has a mommy and a daddy and she told me that sometimes when her mommy’s sad or tired he’ll do all the grown-up stuff like cook and read her a story while her mommy rests and she’s happier that way. I want my mommy to be happy like that too.”

For Tom, it felt like his cold, dead heart was starting to beat again. This little angel sitting on his lap was asking for something most children already had, not for herself, but for her mother.

“You’re a really good person, Millie.”

“If you stopped saying so many bad words you’d be one too, Tommy.”

The boys laughed yet again and they continued talking for a little while, refraining from any work-related issues for the sake of their newest addition, choosing instead to discuss sports and fighting over who’d be on cleaning duty that Sunday. Three more bills made their way to the jar during that particular discussion, one from each boy (bar Sam because he was on cooking duty, as always), and for once they allowed themselves to relax and simply be, instead of always worrying.

You got out of the kitchen with the men’s orders ready and looked at the end of the counter, planning to check on Millie before walking over to the mobsters’ table. Your brows furrowed when you didn’t find her and you immediately looked towards the girls’ table or the Lees’, finding she wasn’t there either.

“Mommy, over here!”

You followed your child’s voice and your eyes widened once you saw her sitting on the leader’s lap. The smiling leader’s lap.

You quickly made your way to their booth, placing their orders in front of them without even taking your eyes off your daughter.

“Millicent Rose! What have I told you about bothering people when they’re in their booths?”

She looked guilty for half a second but immediately perked up again, ready to defend herself.

“Not to, but Mommy, he said a bad word so I had to take the swear jar to him.”

“And why, pray tell, are you sitting in the gentleman’s lap?”

“His name’s Tommy and he said he didn’t mind and this way I can talk to Thor, Twin Nice and Twin Naughty better.”

Tommy, Thor, Twin Nice, and Twin Naughty?

“Oh, fuck me.”

Millie’s jaw dropped open. She’d never heard you swear before.

“You owe a pound, Mommy.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.”

You pulled a pound from your pocket and put it in, eyes widening at the amount of money in the jar.

“How in the world?”

“I didn’t have singles so I just put hundreds in. Apparently, it’s a donation to the 'Get Millie new glitter pens’ foundation.”

You set the jar down and shook your head in disbelief.

“I am never letting Harley babysit you ever again.”

She pouted and slumped down, arms crossed adorably in front of her.

“Now come on, let the gentlemen eat their lunch in peace and come get yours.”

She cuddled up to Tom more than before, burying her head in his chest and fisting his shirt, and shaking her head in protest.

“Millie, come on, let’s go. I’m so sorry for the bother sir.”

“It’s no problem, she’s welcome to say for however long she wants.”

The brunette smiled at your daughter and then at you, before the man on his right interrupted.

“Besides, she’s very entertaining. It’s nice to see someone else call Tom out on his bullshit.”

You and Millie threw the blonde matching glares while Tom just pushed the jar towards him.

“You owe a pound, Haz”

“Excuse you Tommy, my name’s Thor.”

He then turned to you with a smug smile and attitude.

“Cause I have pretty eyes like him and look very strong. Don’t you agree with your daughter… (Y/n)?”

He read your name tag and smiled charmingly while you pursed your lips, looking him up and down. You then looked at your little girl.

“You sure?”

“Well, who else has pretty blue eyes?”

“Captain America.”

She light up right away and straightened herself.

“Right! And he looks like Captain America when he was tiny! Thanks, Mommy!”

She then turned to Harrison with a gigantic smile on her face.

“You’re Tiny America now.”

The whole table -bar Haz- laughed and you had to bite your lip not to laugh too, instead linking your hands and looking at the clock.

“Come on Millie, it’s time to eat.”

“Can I eat here with Tommy, please?”

“If you eat here with Tommy I won’t be able to make sure you eat your veggies.”

The man’s heart stuttered when you used his nickname, a strange sense of happiness overcoming him.

“Tommy can check.”

“Mm… I’m not sure if he can check you ate them. He’s not used to your sneakiness.”

“What if I pinky promise to eat my veggies and eat a banana for dessert instead of ice cream?”

It was a struggle to get her to eat fruits and veggies. You usually had to settle for one or the other, so when she spontaneously decided to eat both, you jumped at the opportunity, mob be damned.

“Deal! But no annoying the boys.”

She smiled and nodded, settling comfortably on Tom’s lap, waiting for her food. You took out her plate of chicken nuggets, fries, and green beans, chocolate milkshake to wash it down.

You tried not to let the butterflies in your stomach distract you from your job but the way Tom smiled at your daughter and praised her when she ate all her veggies in a row, wanting to get it over with, made your heart ache, the longing for someone still very much present.

“Have a nice meal.”

You made eye contact with the brunette and blushed at the smile he sent you before waving goodbye at the Lees. The teenage couple had left a bit earlier so the mobsters were now your last customers of the day.

You wiped the kitchen counters and said goodbye to Lou, assuring him that you’d close up by yourself. As soon as he left, you took a deep breath and sighed, unable to stop your smile when you heard your daughter’s laugh carrying through the wall separating you from the group.

“Mommy, we’re done!”

You straightened up and schooled your features before walking over to them, taking away their plates while asking if Millie behaved and if they wanted dessert. The answer to both questions was a yes and so you came back a little while later with chocolate pudding for the twins, caramel ice cream for Harrison, a banana split for Tom, and a miniature one for Millie.

“Since you behaved so nicely you get a little sweetness with your banana.”

Her eyes sparkled and she smiled brightly at you.

“You’re the best mommy ever! I love you!”

“Love you too, baby.”

You turned around, ready to leave, when a voice stopped you.

“Why don’t you sit down with us for a bit? I’m pretty sure that if you wipe that table down one more time you’ll remove the paint.”

You blushed but complied, sitting down next to Harrison and watching as your daughter ate her dessert quickly and quietly, wincing from time to time because of brain freezes. As soon as she was done, she reached for Tom’s right hand. He switched the hand that held the spoon, eating with his left so that Millie could play with the ring on his finger.

Unfortunately for him, he had a bit of trouble eating with his non-dominant hand while holding a child on his lap, leading to a bit of ice cream falling on his shirt.

“Ah, fu-”

You shot him a glare that made him change courses immediately.

“-dge. Fudge.”

Millie clapped and gave him a big, approving smile.

“See, Mommy? He’s making progress!”

“Indeed he is, darling.”

“Oh, this is fucking hilarious!”

The young girl gasped, mouth open comically wide and utter betrayal swimming in her eyes.

“I thought you were nice.”

Sam realized his mistake as soon as she spoke, covering his mouth with his hand as if to stop any more of the offending words from leaving it.

“You owe five pounds.”

“What? Why? I only said one swear word!”

She shook her head in disapproval, arms crossed in front of her chest, and pushed the jar towards him.

“You made me believe you were nice so your trickster-y will cost you four extra pounds.”

You shook your head, smile firmly plastered on your face as you watched Sam pull out a hundred dollar bill with a pout on his lips. It was quite endearing, really.

“So, (Y/n), tell us about you.”

You locked eyes with the brunette once again, piercing gaze seemingly looking through you.

“I’m afraid there’s not much to tell, Mr Holland. I’m not a very interesting person.”

Your voice was soft, your words calculated. You knew that these men could kill you in the blink of an eye.

“No uninteresting person could have raised such a perfect little angel.”

He smirked and Millie looked at you with a smug smile.

“See, he said I was an angel.”

Life be damned, it’s not worth living if your daughter has an ego the size of Russia. That would most definitely come back to bite you in the ass.

“Yeah, that’s cause he hasn’t had to deal with you in all your nightly glory.”

She put her tongue out and snuggled deeper into Tom’s chest.

“Well, for one, how did you find yourself working here?”

He got the conversation back on you and you felt slightly intimidated with the whole table’s eyes on little old you.

“Customers are nice, I earn enough money for us to get by, owner’s nice, the school’s at the end of the street, and Millie gets to stay with me when she’s not there.”

Even though he was focused on you, you noticed the way he held your daughter close to his chest, his bigger frame completely enveloping her smaller one. She still hadn’t let go of his hand and kept playing with the ring on his finger. Seeing how calm and caring he was being with your daughter calmed you down and the more questions you answered, the more comfortable you became.

“How can you work at a dinner and not like vanilla milkshakes?”

Sam looked horrified at that, and you just shrugged dismissively.

“I never really liked when vanilla was too present. Like, if you used it to just enhance everything else you know, make it taste better, then sure, but just vanilla isn’t really my style.”

Tom took a sharp breath in and tried to stop his mind from wandering at the possible double meaning of your words. Instead, he chose to focus on the little girl on his lap.

Until he noticed she was asleep, that is.

He smiled a little and shifted her so she was resting more comfortably on his lap. Unfortunately for him, that caught your attention.

“Oh my, is she asleep? I’m really sorry.”

“No worries, though we should probably get her to bed so she doesn’t wake up with a stiff neck.”

For the umpteenth time, you pushed down the butterflies upon hearing him say 'we’ and being so careful with your daughter.

You took the remaining dishes and went to the kitchen, putting them in the wash and turning on the machine, leaving it to run so tomorrow morning you’d be able to put everything away. You went back in to clean the booth and Tom practically shoved a hundred dollar bill in your hand, ignoring your protests.

He waited for you by the door while you finished closing up, and you extended your arms towards him when you finished.

“Thank you for everything today, but you must be getting tired, I can take her from here.”

He gently pushed your arms down.

“Let me take you home, please, I don’t like the idea of you having to carry her all on your own.”

You hesitantly nodded and he guided you to his car. It’s only then that you noticed the other three had left. You settled on the passenger side of his black Audi and he handed you Millie, closing the door softly as to not startle her. He then entered the driver’s side and started the car. You gave him directions to your apartment building and within five minutes, he parked the car right out front.

Ever the gentleman, he insisted on carrying the little girl. Knowing by now that there wasn’t much you could do to protest, you agreed and led him up the four flights of stairs to your door.

“Sorry 'bout the mess.”

“It’s no problem, darling, I quite like it.”

You turned your head for a brief second, as if asking him to elaborate while still leading him to your daughter’s room.

“The fact that it’s messy means that someone lives here, that this isn’t just some house, it’s a home. My house is always pristine but that’s because no one’s ever there to actually use it as something other than a glorified B&B.”

He laid Millie down on the bed and you pulled the covers over her. You both stood side to side for a little while, just watching her breathe.

“That sounds really lonely.”

“Yeah…”

Another minute passed by with no words coming from either of you.

“You raised an amazing daughter, (Y/n).”

“You’re a good man, Tom.”

Hearing those unfamiliar words coming out of your mouth almost brought tears to his eyes. He was always used to being called a ruthless mobster, cold-blooded killer, or many other names that all meant the same thing: monster. But you called him a good man, and the sincerity in your voice was almost overwhelming.

He cleared his throat and straightened up, making you turn towards him.

“I should probably go… You should get some rest as well.”

You nodded and walked him to the door. In a split-second decision, you leaned up and kissed his cheek, locking eyes with him afterwards.

“If you ever need an escape, or just wanna hang out somewhere different, our door’s always open.”

That made a smile take over his face and he kissed your forehead.

“Thank you, darling.”

And as you watched him round the corner, only your back visible to you, you couldn’t help but feel like this wouldn’t be the last time you ever saw Tom Holland.

i have mixed feelings concerning this story but at least i have ideas for a part two (if i ever decide to make one)

don’t forget to reblog, comment or like if you feel like it <3

[blackshinychevy]

Let Me Go

Summary: Dean has to make a heartbreaking decision that effects both of you.

WC: 1.6k+

Warnings: Angst, Character Death

Pairing: Dean x Reader

It’s late when Sam gets back to the bunker. There’s a huge thunderstorm outside that has most of the roads flooded and blocked off. He’s barely made it back with the take out he’d gone to get for he and his older brother, but the question of whether or not Dean will actually eat it is another matter.

Sam’s starting to become extremely worried about his older sibling. Dean’s always been a strong lover of food, the greasier the better. But Sam has noticed the drop in his brother’s appetite, as well as the newly made hole in his belt now that his jeans are becoming too loose around his waist.

As he walks into the kitchen, he sees Dean sat at the kitchen table, nursing a beer that has probably long since become warm. But Sam doesn’t miss the other five empty bottles beside him, as well as an empty whiskey tumbler.

“Hey.” He greets, dropping the plastic bag of food in front of him. “Got you a double bacon cheeseburger with extra onions and a side of fries.” Sam smiles in encouragement as he piles Dean’s favorites onto the table. “And...” Sam pulls out the last treat with a grin. “...cherry pie. Best around for miles apparently.” Sam’s smile wilts when Dean doesn’t even show he’s heard him. He merely continues rolling the beer bottle back and forth between his hands. “Where’s y/n?” The younger Winchester asks, glancing around the kitchen.

“In our room.” Dean states gruffly.

Sam knows at this point he needs to tread very carefully. One wrong word and Dean could snap again like he did the other night. It had taken Sam hours to put the library back to rights after his brother had torn through it like a hurricane during a drunken rage.

“Dean.” He sighs softly. “Don’t you think it’s time now? You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Dean drops the bottle down with a clunk, raising himself to his feet and marching towards the door. “I’m going to bed.” He states, not even glancing at his brother as he leaves the kitchen.

Sam throws the takeout box onto the table in defeat. He’d tried. But he knows he can do no more than what he’s already doing. The next step has to be entirely up to Dean.

****

Dean stumbles into your shared bedroom, shutting the door with a little more force than was probably necessary and groaning at the headache that was forming behind his eyes. “Hey, baby.” He grins at the sight of you perched on the edge of the bed, a small smile on your face as watch him.

“Hey.” You greet him back, brow quirking as he makes his way over to you with a sway in his step. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not enough.” He groans, towing off his boots and throwing himself face first on to the bed, eyes drooping closed almost immediately.

You sigh sadly at his pain. Dean’s never been good at dealing with his emotions, choosing to bottle everything up until it all reaches a boiling point. The other night was proof of that. You’d heard his drunken yelling as things smashed against the walls, as well as Sam’s voice, pleading for his brother to calm down.

“Dean.” You call softly, leaning over his body, lips almost brushing his ear. “Dean, we need to talk.”

“Later.” He grumbles. “Need some sleep.”

Your heart breaks even more. Unlike Dean, you don’t have the option of bottling everything inside. The both of you need to talk desperately. Because you can’t continue the way you’re going. It’s not fair to him and it’s not fair to you.

“Dean. This has to stop.” Your voice cracks at the end. This is going to be the hardest thing either of you has had to do. But it’s time. “You need to let me go.”

His eyes snap open and his body jerks off the bed to sit himself up right, and he looks at you with an expression that can only be compared to terror. “No!” He roars. “How can you say that?! Ask me anything, baby. I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t ask me to do that. Please.” Tears brim in the corners of his eyes and you hear the quiver in his voice. Your heart shatters in your chest as you keep your eyes on his.

“You have to.” You press. “This isn’t healthy, baby. You need to let me go. I don’t belong here anymore. We both know that.” A tear trickles down your cheek. “It’s not your fault what happened. You can’t keep punishing yourself over it.” You smile.

He sniffs, wiping roughly under his eyes to rid his cheeks of the tears. “Why’d ya do it? Shoulda been me.” He bares his teeth in anger.

It was supposed to be a simple hunt. A werewolf been terrorizing a small town and when the three of you had tried to take it down, things had gone horribly wrong. The werewolf it turned out, had a partner, and after it tried to strike Dean from behind, you’d jumped in between the two of them to save the man you loved. The next time you left the barn, Dean was carrying your cold and bloodied body in his arms. That was three months ago, and here you are still. Trapped in the veil, unable to move on due to Dean’s grief and guilt. The brothers had burned your bones on a hunters pyre, and despite not tying yourself to anything on earth, your spirit still lingered. Dean’s soul had latched tightly on to yours, desperate to keep you with him and unable to let go.

“I jumped between you and that werewolf, because you’re the only man I’ve ever been in love with. Only one for me. I could have the chance to do that day a hundred times over. And I’d still jump in front of you.” You sigh sadly. If only you’d known about the second wolf. Maybe you’d still be there with him. Able to hold his hand and kiss him awake every morning. Feel his warm skin on yours as he made love to you under the stars in the back of the impala. Maybe you’d have grown old together, had a couple of kids and gotten married. But that was never going to happen now. His heart was still beating. And your’s had stopped.

“How do I do this with you?” He whispers, eyes red as fresh tears fall. “I don’t know how to...”

You raise your hand, brushing it along his cheek, desperately wishing you could feel the heat of it against your palm. He leans into you, feeling nothing but cold air instead of warm flesh. “You’ve got Sammy.” You soothe. “He needs you too. More than I do. And you did just fine before you met me.”

“But I need you.” He whispers. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too. So much. And I’ll be waiting for you. But you need to move on from me, Dean.” He looks horrified at your suggestion, and you offer another smile of comfort. “You need to go on living. Find another girl, fall in love again. Have children with her. Marry her if she makes you happy. And one day, if I’m still what you want, I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”

Dean’s head falls forward as he sobs into his hands. He tries desperately to catch his breath, feeling his heart splintering behind his ribs. If they could, tears would pour from your own eyes at the sight of him so distraught.

“I don’t want to let you go.” There’s an almost pleading tone to his voice, begging you to stay.

“We know what happens to ghosts that stay too long.” You say sadly. “Please don’t make me become like that.”

Dean runs a rough hand through his hair. It’s getting longer. Another thing he’s neglected since loosing you.

“I have to don’t I? I have to let you go.” He cries silently.

“Yeah, baby. You do.” You nod. You place your hand on his knee, and Dean stares at it wistfully. His eyes close as his mind flashes back to when you’d do the same thing from the passengers seat. Laughing over at him as he sang along to Metallica and you’d both head bang to Motörhead.

He remembers the first time he’d met you on a vamp case just outside of St. Louis. They’d needed backup and Garth had sent you their way with a quick phone call. Dean would never deny how he’d fallen head over heels the first time he’d seen you. Covered in vampire blood and swinging a machete like it was your own limb. He recalls the first time you’d said you’d loved each other. It had been in the middle of a heated argument after you’d been injured on a ghoul case. You’d walked away with a sprained wrist but Dean had acted like you’d lost your entire arm. He’d tried benching you and after you’d promptly punched him in the jaw for being such a Neanderthal, he’d blurted out that he refused to let the only woman he’d ever really loved kill her self out of stupidity. He’d made love to you for the first time that night. The best night of his life. He knows he’ll never love anyone the way he loved you, but if that’s what you want for him, he’ll do it. He’ll honor your memory and keep on living. He’ll do it for you.

Dean lets out a long sigh as he opens his eyes. He turns his head to look over at you and he feels his heart disintegrate in his chest. You’re gone...

*****

There you go guys! Another oneshot! I hope you enjoyed it and stay safe and stay tuned for more. More updates this week. Xx

[saveahorserideawinchester]

Napkin

Summary: Dean finds a girl at a bar who’s better at pool than him.

Word Count: 1059

Warnings: swearing, flustered Dean, mentions of hooking up

“I say we hit a bar,” Dean suggests.

“We’ve been on hunts back to back for the last two weeks. I don’t want to go to some sleazy bar with you looking for women.”

“Come on, Sammy. It’ll be relaxing! We can drink some beers, look at pretty women, and then get our anger back at their places. Trust me.”

Sam rolls his eyes at his older brother, knowing that he’s going to drive them to a bar no matter how much he disagrees. Downsides of being a shotgun. They roll up to some run down, middle of nowhere bar. Dean saunters in with the confidence he usually had… aka ‘I’m hot shit” attitude. Sam immediately retreats to a booth in the corner of the bar where a waitress comes and takes his order. He doesn’t miss his brother going up to the bar and flirting with the bartender, getting his normal beers then coming back.

“Get her number already?” Sam teases.

“Shut up.” Dean says, giving him the stink eye.

Sam raises his eyebrows at his brother’s sudden change of mood before he sees Dean lift up a napkin with the bartender’s number on it.

“How dare you underestimate me?”

“How did you get that so quick?” “A magician never reveals his secrets.” Dean smirks and takes a swig of his beer before the waitress comes back with the drink Sam had ordered. The two brothers sit in the booth for a little while, talking about the last hunts they went on, any plans for the next days while they rest. They don’t pay attention to anyone else in the bar for awhile until the door swings open and the men in the bar cheer. Turning to the door, the Winchesters spot a girl walking in the bar being high fived by the other men and hugged. 

“Wonder what her deal is,” Sam mutters.

There’s no response from the older brother as he continues to stare at the girl. Sam does a double take, looking at Dean and realizing his fatuation.

“Dude, really?”

Dean doesn’t answer again as he goes to take a drink of his beer, but because he’s not paying attention to the placement of his hand, he accidentally spills all over himself. He’s snapped back into reality as he tries to soak up the beer with the napkin the bartender had written on. Sam watches in amusement as his brother embarasses himself.

“Wow, you are rough,” he teases.

“Shut it, look. She’s beautiful.”

Sam looks back over to the girl and smiles, “Yeah, she is.”

The girl hops up on the barstools and orders a drink from the friendly bartender. She talks with the guys beside her who crowded around her as she entered. The boys miss the waitress coming back with their food as they watch.

“Here are your double cheeseburgers with extra bacon,” she says, “anything else?”

“Uh yeah, who is that girl?” Dean asks, pointing over to her.

“Oh, that’s Y/N L/N. She’s a fan favorite with the regulars here. A lot of them worked with her dad and watched her grow up. It’s a small town, you know. They all practically worship her and it’s hard not to. She’s like a little sister to all of them. She’s great.”

“Huh, thank you,” Sam chuckles.

“No problem, sweet thing.”

The waitress leaves the boys to fawn over the girl once more. They eat their food, but their eyes don’t leave her. Her energy is magnetic and Dean can feel himself getting pulled towards her, but based on the waitresses description, going over to her and flirting would be a suicide mission.

They almost leave the bar when Dean watches the girl go over to the pool table and take a cue stick, getting ready to play a game. He overhears her asking the men who want to play, but none of them do. Shrugging, she takes the ball rack and sets up a game. Dean decides to make a move.

“I’ll play with you.”

Sam chuckles and sits down, knowing this might be a quick game, but hoping to see his brother stumble over his words and fail at flirting with her. The men at the bar all laugh. Dean makes himself obvious as a stranger, they all think, unknowingly starting a challenge with the girl.

“Okay,” she smiles.

Dean grabs a cue stick and gets ready. He lets her break the pool balls and she immediately pockets a stripe.

“Looks like your solids,” she chuckles.

She continues to pocket the next couple of balls she hits, leaving her with two when she finally messes up her turn. Dean is shocked to see this girl’s skills, realizing he found himself a proper match. He pockets his next couple of balls, before being left with just the 8 ball. He backs up to let Y/N take her turn who finishes off her line up. 

Dean watches in awe as she beats him in the game. She looks at him with a smug smirk, patting herself on her back for handing his ass to him.

“Well, stranger, you put up a good game,” she laughs.

“You do, too. I’ve never met someone who plays as well as you do.”

“Why thank you. I’m Y/N,” she sticks her hand out for Dean to shake.

“Dean.”

“Well, Dean, hopefully I’ll see you around?”

“Probably not, sweetheart. My brother and I were just passing through town. We’re leaving in the morning.”

“That’s a shame because I’d love to keep playing with you.”

“Feeling is mutual.”

“Actually-”

Y/N turns around and goes over to the bar. Dean isn’t able to see what she is doing and turns back to Sam in confusion, who just shrugs at him. The men at the bar are giving Dean the death glare as he stands waiting for Y/N. 

“Here,” she says, coming back with a napkin, “it’s my number. If you’re ever around, call me and we should play again.”

“I will, thank you. It was nice meeting you.”

“Nice meeting you too, Dean.”

Dean smiles at the girl before setting his cue stick down, grabbing Sam, and heading out of the bar. He can’t help but smile like a kid as he puts her number in his phone, ignoring the teasing coming from his brother.

[wayward-dreamer]

Always Remember Us This Way

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word count: 3,785 (prompt in bold)

Summary: Maintaining the facade of a normal life while hunting was harder than Dean had imagined.

Warnings: Swearing, Some fluff, Smut: Brief dry humping, Dirty talk, Unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it, people), ANGST, Tears, Sadness, Dean’s self deprication rears it ugly head.

A/N 1: This turned out WAY angsty-er than I was planning lol, but let me know what you guys think! Happy (not so much) reading and enjoy! :)

A/N 2:  This is for @deanwanddamons 2K Followers and 1st Blogiversary celebration! My prompt was: “I just wanted to take another look at you” from A Star Is Born. Congratulations lovely, and I hope you enjoy!

Dividers by @talesmaniac89.

It was a relief to drive through the main streets of Lebanon, Kansas after a hunt. It meant that all was well. Seeing the locals and driving past all their regular spots always centred Dean. It made him feel like he was back on familiar ground and he could breathe easier.

Dean smiled as he parked the Impala outside his favorite diner. He had dropped Sam off at the bunker and gone into town, but not to bring back food, as he always did. He closed the car door and leaned against it, crossing his arms across his chest as he waited. His smile widened as he spotted the reason he was there coming out of the diner.

Y/N smiled at him as she opened the door, carrying two large, white paper bags, no doubt filled with food. Her satchel hung over one shoulder, her uniform stuffed into it, having changed into a long, black summer dress with a floral print and flip-flops. Her Y/H/C hair was tied in a high ponytail, swishing side-to-side as she hurried over to him. When she reached him, he pulled her in by her hips and kissed her, feverishly. Her hands were full, but she leaned her forearms against his, wanting to feel his skin against hers.

“Hey” she whispered against his lips. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too” he smirked as he leaned in and kissed her again. “Sorry it took so long to get back.”

“Yeah, well… those roaches aren’t gonna kill themselves” she laughed as she looked into his eyes.

Dean hated lying to her about pest control being his job that took him around the country, but it was the only way to keep her safe from the life he really lived.

She held up the bags and smiled. “Bacon cheeseburgers and fries, and two slices of pecan pie.”

“You really know the way to my heart, Y/N Y/L/N” he smirked.

“Sure do, Dean Campbell” she said, pecking his lips.

Yet another thing he felt guilty about: not being honest about his name. The whole town knew him and Sam as the Campbell brothers, the ones that kept to themselves but were incredibly friendly and willing to help out in any way they could, when they could. If only they knew just how much he and Sam had done for this town.

“We blowin’ this joint or what?” he asked, as he held onto her shoulders and led her over to the passenger side of the car.

“Yes, please” she replied, as she walked ahead of him. He opened the door for her and she smiled. “Such a gentleman” she said, winking at him as she sat in the passenger seat.

Dean drove them to a clearing just outside of town, a place they considered theirs and had been to many times before. He always brought her here because it was away from prying eyes and countless questions if they stayed in town. He parked near a tree, the sun setting in the distance, glistening over the grass as the last few rays reflected off the blades. They got out of the car and Dean took out a blanket from the trunk, setting it down on the grass. Y/N sat down and folded her legs underneath her, opening the first bag as he settled down next to her.

“Thanks” he said, grinning as she handed him the wrapped burger and box of fries.

She watched as he dug in and hummed around a mouthful, laughing a little as he closed his eyes.

“Don’t judge” he mumbled around the bite, his cheeks bulging with burger.

She laughed again, leaning in and kissing his big cheek. “Never.”

They laughed and talked about random things as they ate, their conversation never sparking suspicions from her, which Dean was thankful for. As they talked, they both couldn’t help but remember how they met. He recalled how it was her first shift at the diner and she was completely lost, tripping over her own feet and landing straight into his arms as he launched himself out of his seat so that she didn’t fall flat on her face. One look into her Y/E/C eyes and he was done for. Y/N remembered staring up into his green orbs and seeing his perfect lips, wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of her days feeling them against hers.

By the end of that shift, he and Sam had eaten a free lunch and Dean had walked away with her number on a napkin.

That was nearly a year ago. In that time, Dean had been away so many times, sometimes spending weeks away because of hunt after hunt. She never questioned him, never doubted him and never accused him of anything. For all this, Dean knew he didn’t deserve her but was grateful all the same that he did have her.

However, he couldn’t help but feel that if things got more complicated with their Chuck situation, he would have to break it off with her. The last thing he needed was Chuck knowing about her. If he didn’t already.

After eating, Dean had laid back on the blanket, holding Y/N close to him as he gazed up at the stars. The sun had completely set over an hour ago, and they were basking in the light summer breeze that blew over them. Y/N’s head rested on his chest, her arm around his torso as she looked up at the sky.

“I wish we could stay like this forever” she said, softly. “I’d never let you leave” she let out a small laugh, not realizing how much that one sentence killed him.

He sighed heavily, the thoughts of what they were dealing with not leaving his mind.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked, moving her head to look up at him. The crinkles around his eyes were deep as his eyebrows were pulled tight into a frown.

He looked down at her, his face instantly relaxing as he looked into her eyes. “I’m pretty sure they’ll cost more than that.”

“Hey” she said, cupping his jaw. “Whatever it is… it’ll work out.”

He shook his head, closing his eyes. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” she asked in return, stroking her thumb along his jaw.

“Just know what to say without knowing the full story” he replied, as he continued to look at her.

“It’s a gift” she joked but frowned when she noticed he didn’t let out even a small chuckle. He sat up, his back to her as he stared up at the sky. Y/N sat up and scooted closer to him, trying to look at him as he turned his face away.

“Dean” she whispered as she cupped his jaw and slowly turned his face to look at her.

“I guess I’m just trying to figure out how you can trust me so easily, without knowing about my life” he lamented, shaking his head. It had always baffled him how she took everything in and didn’t question it. Not once.

“Because I don’t need to know about it” she said, shrugging. “I know your heart. I know you’re a good person. I feel it. That’s all I need to know.”

He smiled softly, shaking his head as he marvelled at the fact that she could be so open and trusting. He wished he could be like that with people other than her and Sam.

Dean leaned in and kissed her, passionately, lifting his hands to cup her cheeks. He deepened the kiss, humming at the taste of pecan and cinnamon on her tongue, feeling her hands move into his hair and her fingernails lightly scrape his scalp. She moved her hands down to his shoulders, lightly pushing him back to lie down as she slowly straddled his hips, her legs on either side of him. She leaned down and pressed herself into him, the kiss growing more eager. His hands travelled up and down her back, moving down her thighs and slowly lifting up the skirt of her dress. He pressed his hands to her smooth skin, warm against his palms. Her hips began to roll into his, slowly. She hummed against his lips as she felt his jeans begin to tighten, against her core.

Y/N continued to roll her hips against Dean’s, feeling her arousal grow and wet her lacy panties. She continued to move her hips, feeling Dean’s cock strain against the fabric of his jeans. She sat up; her palms pressed into his chest as she smiled down at him. Her hands moved down and her left one began to rub his hard on through his pants. She watched him bite his lip and smiled, both hands working to open his jeans. Once she had taken his belt off and undid his jeans, she sat up slightly and pulled them down to below his knees, doing the same with his boxers, seeing his hard cock spring free. She grinned mischievously as she slid her covered pussy back and forth against his cock, the fabric of her panties against his skin.

“Shit” he gasped, feeling the sensation of the lace against his hard on.

Dean reached down and lifted up the skirt of her dress, moving it to the side to see her black panties. He hooked a finger into the fabric and pulled it aside, biting his bottom lip as he saw her. He moved his thumb against the folds, feeling her wetness. She let out a small whimper as his thumb brushed against her clit, slowly circling it.

“Shit, Dean” she gasped, as his thumb picked up the pace a little. She softly grasped his cock in her hand and held it against her, rubbing the head against her folds. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, Y/N” he muttered as he watched what she was doing.

He took a hold of his cock, a cue to her to sit up, holding the head to her entrance. Dean moved his hand away as she slowly sank down, his cock buried completely within her. She moaned loudly, knowing there was no one around for miles. She began to rock back and forth slowly, humming when he grabbed her hips, his thumbs stroking her hip bones.

“Fuck” she gasped, as she pressed her hands into his covered chest, smiling down at him. “I missed feeling you inside me.”

“Shit, sweetheart… I missed being inside you” he agreed, as he began to move her hips a little faster.

She threw her head and moaned wantonly, meeting him thrust for thrust as she picked up the pace. “Don’t… don’t leave me again.”

Dean closed his eyes, trying not to let her see how affected he was by what she just said. He sat up and pulled her close, pulling down the front of her dress and the cups of her bra. He leaned down and kissed her breasts, her hands coming to the back his head to pull him closer. She moaned as he kissed and sucked at her nipples, pebbled from his ministrations and the breeze blowing around them. She thrusted down harder and faster, the moment far too overpowering.

“Dean” she said, moving his head to look into his eyes. “I’m so close.”

“Me too, sweetheart. I want you to cum with me” he groaned as he looked at her.

She grinded her hips down against his, feeling the coil in her core begin to tighten. Dean cupped her face, making her look him directly in the eyes.

“Look at me” he said, staring at her. “Look at me when you cum on my cock.”

She gripped his wrists tightly, looking at him with hooded eyes as her mouth curved into an ‘o’ as the pressure grew.

Their thrusts became erratic, as she felt everything build up. Suddenly, as they looked into each other’s eyes, the coil in her belly snapped, causing a loud, drawn out moan to leave her lips as her juices flowed down his cock. Dean let out a strangled moan as he stared into her eyes, cumming deep inside of her, coating her walls with his release.

They pulled each other in, hugging tight as they breathed heavily. Dean leaned his forehead on her shoulder, as she combed her hands through his hair. Neither of them wanting to let go of each other or the moment. Dean didn’t want to let go because then he would have to face the reality of everything he felt guilty for. Y/N didn’t want to let go because she feared if she did, he’d leave again, with no certainty of when he’d be back. She wanted to remember this moment and remember them this way. Together. Always.

They took a few moments to stay the way they were, before they redressed, packed up and left for her house. The car ride was quiet, holding a peace between them that they only felt with each other. They made love in her bed, making up for lost time and hoping that it would be a long time before they would have to separate again.

However, as Y/N fell asleep in his arms, Dean stared up at the ceiling if her bedroom. He knew the reality. He knew what he had to do to keep her safe as their situation with Chuck grew more dire.

He just wished he didn’t have to.

Dean woke up before her even though he had only slept for a few hours. He watched her for a few moments, a content, small smile on her face as she slept, her breath even. He slowly got out of bed, careful not to move too harshly and jolt her awake. He stood up and put his boxers on, going in search of his phone. His jeans had fallen at the foot of the bed and he picked them up, taking out his phone from the front pocket.

He looked at the lock screen, seeing a couple of missed calls and a message from Sam.

Didn’t want to bother you when you’re with Y/N but Cas has a lead on Chuck. Wants us to meet him in Colorado. Get back to the bunker soon, we can go over the plan.

Dean frowned. He had wished he had more time before they got something on Chuck, so that he could spend time with Y/N. He knew that was too good to be true.

“You’re up early” he heard her voice behind him.

He turned around, seeing her sitting up in bed, holding the sheet to her naked body. She rubbed her eyes and smiled at him, looking even more beautiful in the morning sun that filtered through the window.

“Yeah” he sighed, his voice betraying him, not being able to say anything else.

Dean watched as she wrapped a robe around herself and walked into the kitchen, getting the coffee started. As he dressed, he didn’t know how to begin to tell her he couldn’t stay for coffee. He couldn’t stay for a few more hours. He probably wouldn’t be back any time soon.

He may not come back at all.

Dean continued to watch her as he stood at the end of the kitchen bench, dressed and ready to leave. He didn’t know how to find the strength to tell her what he needed to. It was only going to break her heart and he didn’t know if he could live with that. However, breaking her heart was better than her being dead. Which she would be if Chuck ever found her.

“Just how you like it” she smiled as she brought over a mug of hot black coffee to him. She looked at him, not knowing what was about to happen. He wished he could keep it that way, that he didn’t have to say anything.

“I can’t stay” he said, clearing his throat of the roughness that had occurred due to his emotions. “Something’s come up. I gotta go.”

“Oh” she said, surprised and hiding her disappointment quite well. “When… when will you be back?”

Dean shook his head, wishing she hadn’t asked that. “I don’t know.”

She frowned, confused. “But… but you just got here.”

“I know, Y/N, but I have to go” he told her, slowly grasping her hand on the kitchen bench.

“Can’t someone else go?” she asked, shaking her head. Her voice was starting to shake as she tried to keep it together.

Dean smiled sadly. “I wish.”

“Why… why do I get the feeling this isn’t about a pest control job?” she asked, showing doubt in him for the first time since he met her.

“I’m sorry” he said, knowing any way he answered her question wouldn’t help her.

“You really don’t know when you’ll be back?” she asked, her voice small, not trusting it to speak any louder.

Dean felt that invisible hole within him become bigger, the guilt eating at him. “Y/N, I… I might not be coming back. At all.”

She flinched as she looked at him, pulling her hand away. “What?” She felt pieces of her heart beginning to flake off the longer she talked to him.

His jaw clenched, trying to keep himself together. “I might not be coming back to Lebanon.”

He didn’t want to do this to her but if something were to happen on this mission, he didn’t want to leave her with false hope that he would be coming back.

“So… so what does that mean?” she wondered, her eyes welling up.

He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and never leave, but he couldn’t. He had a job and responsibility. That had to come first. He couldn’t be selfish anymore. No matter how much he wanted to be.

Dean shook his head, not being able to say anything, hoping that gesture would be enough. Y/N felt a clenching in her chest, her heart no doubt breaking at the realization of what Dean meant. How, after a year of being each other’s rock, could it all be over?

Y/N felt Dean move in closer to her, leaning in to kiss her cheek. She shook her head, desperately grasping his jaw in her hands and kissing him hard. It was bruising and painful as they roughly kissed, pulling and biting, but it was a sign that neither wanted to let go. Tears ran down her cheeks as she kissed him, faltering as sobs took over her body. Dean pulled away from the kiss and held her against him as she cried. He leaned his chin on her head, his heart breaking as he listened to her crying.

“I…” she gasped, not being able to breathe. “I-I t-told you not to leave” she cried, shaking her head against his chest.

“I don’t want to” he whispered, his emotions getting the better of him too, as a tear rolled down his cheek.

“Then don’t” she sobbed. “Please.”

He shook his head, closing his eyes. “I can’t do that, Y/N. I’m sorry. I’m doing this to keep you safe.”

“I don’t understand” she said, looking up at him with her tear-stained face close to his.

He knew that she wouldn’t, but he had to say it all the same.

“I… I have to go” he said, cupping her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I…” she trailed off, not being able to say it. She knew it would break them both if she did.

“I know” he whispered, smiling at her through his sadness. “Me too.”

Dean leaned in, softly kissing her lips. It was passionate, loving and held everything he felt for her without saying it. He reluctantly pulled away, quickly walking away. He walked to her front door and opened it, not turning back to look at her. If he did, he’d give in and stay.

“Hey” she called out from the threshold.

Dean turned around, seeing her looking more vulnerable than he had ever seen her.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

“Nothing, I just…” she smiled, shaking her head. “I just wanted to take another look at you.”

Dean smirked sadly, pushing down what he was feeling in that moment as best as he could. Every fibre of his being wanted to walk up to her and take her in his arms. Stay with her and never leave… but he couldn’t. He turned around and walked to the Impala, getting in and starting up the car. From the corner of his eye, he could see Y/N still standing on her porch, watching him. He started the engine, revving loudly as he pulled away from the house, tires screeching loudly and no doubt waking up her neighbors as he backed out and accelerated forward, speeding away from the house.

Y/N watched as Dean sped away, tears falling down her face as she continued to look out at the street, even after he had disappeared. She wiped her face and steeled herself, turning and walking back into her house. She shut the door behind her, as she went onto going about her day, as normal as possible.

She knew she had to shut down and stop herself from feeling the pain. It was better that way.

As Dean drove back to the bunker, his mind reeled. Had he made the right decision? Maybe he should’ve told Y/N the truth. Would she have accepted it and him? What would it mean for her fate if she knew?

He suddenly felt overwhelmed, his hands numb around the steering wheel. He pulled off to the side of the road, not being able to continue driving. He gripped the steering wheel tighter as he leaned forward, breathing erratic as everything took over at the same time. All the sadness. All the guilt.

He slammed his hands down on the steering wheel repeatedly, kicking the door open as he got out, leaning his hands on top of the car when he stood. He hung his head, trying to take deep breaths of the fresh air of the early morning. He closed his eyes, feeling the tears roll down his face. He wiped them away roughly, but more kept coming. He clenched his fists as memories of Y/N flooded his mind, the emotional weight of everything taking over him.

As he stood on the side of the road, trying to keep calm but failing, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was most likely Sam, calling to find out where he was.

However, he ignored it as he quietly cried, his forehead resting against the cool metal of his beloved Baby.

His memories of Y/N were all he could think about as the weight of his mistake consumed him.

-x-

Tags: @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @katehuntington @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @ellewritesfix05 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @supraveng​ @roonyxx​ @supernatural-love14​ @vicmc624​ @prettyboyswow​ @lunarmoon8​ @supernatural-bellawinchester​

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 5

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

GET. READY. This is a bigger chunk but I really think it’s worth it. 

Title: Dreams, Chapter 5

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 5343

Summary: Dean’s birthday proves easier than expected in some ways and harder in others. 

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, alcohol, s l o w  b u r n

           Sam pulled back from you, opening one eye drowsily. “Are you okay?” he says, voice gritty with sleep.

           “Yeah, I…he didn’t die,” you breathed, confused.

           He cleared his throat. “What?”

           “He always dies. He fell off of Bobby’s roof, but he just broke his ankle, he, he didn’t die.”

           Sam rubbed his face with his free arm, trying to wake up more in earnest. It was still dark, so it couldn’t have been later than 7:30. You hadn’t been asleep for more than a few hours but suddenly felt beyond alert. “That’s good, right?”

           “I—yeah, it’s good. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.”

           “Do you want to talk about it?”

           The reflex was to say no, usher Sam back to sleep. But your reflexes had already been wrong once today. “Can we?”

           The way Sam kept the surprise off his face was admirable. It was the first time you’d agreed to talk about the nightmares that plagued you since losing Dean. He propped himself up on his elbows and flicked on the small lamp beside the bed. “What happened?”

           You told Sam all about the dream, sparing only the details you couldn’t really remember or only made dream-sense, like the way you knew it was 4th of July weekend without having been told. He listened thoughtfully, the focus obvious in his expression. He waited a long beat when you were done, sure not to step on your moment of vulnerability.

           “What do you think it means?” he asked gently.

           You thunked back onto your pillow to gaze up at the popcorn ceiling. “I don’t care, to be honest.” The almost-dark made fuzzy static pulse in your vision. “I think I’m going to write about it, actually,” you said, and startled yourself.

           “Oh, uh, okay,” Sam said encouragingly. “Do you want me to—” he asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

           “No, no. I’ll be back in a little bit, see if you can go back to sleep.”

           Sam nodded with more than a little concern and you climbed over him, yanking an old sweatshirt out to throw over your wilted tee and scampering off to the kitchen table.

           The house was ice cold and dark aside from the ever-present Christmas lights and you could feel the needles that had begun to drop from the tree under your bare feet, rapidly cooling on the cheap flooring. You picked up the notebook and pens Sam had gotten you and sat down at the kitchen counter to write.

           In the days that followed, the constant and varied nightmares of Dean’s deaths returned. When you woke up, more and more often making it to the morning, you kept writing to Dean about them and sometimes your day as a way of processing. You never ‘told him’ about exactly what happened and tried to focus on the sweet things you remembered that made the worst dreams a tease, moving them to your daytime memory and trying to wash away the despair the nightmares left you clawing through.

            By the middle of January, you and Sam had fallen mostly back into old patterns. The Christmas lights were still up, a sort of night light against the long Midwestern nights, and you couldn’t help feeling a small sense of despair sweeping up loose pine needles when Sam was in the shower every day. You didn’t want the winter to end, as weird as that sounded with the ice and chill and fingertips that never warmed all the way. It felt like if you moved into spring that you were leaving the time-out that you’d created and would have to figure out a longer-term solution than this rented cabin, all thin drywall and poorly insulated ceilings. Even your jobs didn’t feel permanent, the summer vacationers sure to come back and reclaim their spots in the town as it came back to life with the plants.

           The ‘mostly’ was that the boundary you broke with Sam never truly came uncrossed. When you were washing dishes he would come stand behind you, the heat of his lips seeping into the shoulder of your old sweatshirts. You’d intertwine your fingers with his while he drove, realizing only when you went to open the car door and found yourself tangled, or running your hands through his hair while he read next to you on the sofa. You never met Sam’s eyes in these moments—somehow it felt like a secret, private thing that would collapse into dust if gazed upon, some sweet, small creature you were protecting. Neither one of you talked about it in the time since that tequila-soaked night.

           As much as you’d needed to be close to him before, you began craving Sam in a way that scared you. You’d always found him beautiful in the way you admire someone you love, but you caught yourself taking notice of the pillars of muscles along his back when he broke down stock boxes and the dark swoop of his eyelashes. The comments about how lucky you were to have him that used to make you nervous your cover was about to be blown started to make you ache a little with fear and something you couldn’t place. You felt a bizarre flick of jealousy when some twenty somethings drinking White Claw dragged their eyes over him at the bar before leaving on their snowmobiles, like he really was yours to claim. It seemed like a manifestation of your fierce attachment and unresolved grief not only for Dean but your old life with the Winchesters, when they sort of were: your teammates and no one else’s. You resolved it had to be and explained it away without inspection, even when these ‘isolated’ moments became less and less isolated.

           Before you knew it, you were hurtling toward Dean’s birthday.

           “What should we do on Sunday?” you asked early on a Thursday afternoon, trying to keep your voice light and easy while you and Sam got ready for your last day of work for the week.

           “I don’t, uh, I don’t know.”

           “Did you guys ever do anything when you were little?”

           “I mean, not really. Sometimes like a cake or whatever I guess, but Dean was always better at that stuff. By the time we were in our 20s, he only wanted to go meet girls and play up the ‘kiss for the birthday boy’ schtick.” Sam grinned sheepishly as though you didn’t know who Dean had been.

           You couldn’t help but smile, remembering the cocksure half-boy you’d met all those years ago. “Okay, well, if you didn’t have anything in mind, I have a couple ideas.”

           “Oh, yeah, I had only really come up with a cherry pie and a bottle of whiskey.”

           You stood up from the kitchen table and grabbed Sam’s empty plate, leaning into his drying hair for long enough to inhale the minty earthiness of his shampoo. “I mean, that’s a given.”

           In Sunday’s late morning you slipped out of the house while Sam was in the shower, leaving a note behind that said you’d be back in a few minutes. You careened down the road to the quaint main street, running through the list in your head. The grocery store was first for the only bottle of scotch they kept in a tiny plastic container and the fixings for bacon cheeseburgers, then the coffee shop had a cherry pie that looked better to you than whatever pseudo-Entemann’s they had in the limited grocery bakery section. The hardware store had everything else you needed and some extras; you praised the cold climate necessity of having multiple places in town to get gloves and thick woolen socks as you threw a couple on the checkout with the rest of the haul. It was awkward to get everything in the trunk, and you were thankful in this moment that you weren’t trying to drive the little sedan you’d had years ago when it was just you, even as annoying as it was to park the Impala sometimes.

           Back at the cabin Sam was solemnly cleaning up, his eyes red as he wrung out a mop. You took the pie and whiskey out of the bag and put the other groceries away without removing your coat. In truth you only took off the boots you were wearing as a concession to Sam’s mopping, feeling itchy to get back outside and let the complexity of your emotions explode into fresh air unencumbered.

           You tossed a pair of new woolen socks to Sam, who caught them against his chest. “You’re going to want these.”

           “What? Where are we going?”

           “Somewhere I think Dean would’ve liked. Put on some layers, too.”

           Sam obeyed with a crooked eyebrow, coming out of the bedroom a few minutes later looking like a lumberjack catalogue model. You didn’t say anything when you realized the hoodie he was wearing used to be his brother’s.

           “Ready?”

           “I’m not sure, I don’t know where we’re going,” Sam answered honestly.

           You gestured toward the door and he followed you out to the car. Thankfully it had snowed that morning, and tiny billows of powdery snowflakes blew up around each car that you passed on the way.

           The hill was massive. It was a little surprising considering the flatness of the majority of the Midwest, and you’d had to remind yourself that there were some small skiing outfits in the upper half of the state when you’d found it, sure that it was a garbage dump that had been covered lazily in grass seed and left to its own devices. Less impressive surrounding slopes reassured you when you’d scoped it out a few days earlier, and the fresh glittering snow made it look even more spectacular now than you’d remembered. You decided not to push it taking the Impala onto the snow, instead parking at the dead-end you thought was closest.

           “We’re here?” Sam asked, obviously still confused.

           “Yep. Come on,” you said, enjoying the surprise more than you’d thought you would.

           Popping the trunk made it obvious when the bright plastic sleds were wedged in alongside the miscellaneous weapons whose permanent home it was. You watched Sam’s face as recognition dawned, closely followed by a smirk you knew was in large part to humor you. Yanking them out in one big pull, you handed Sam the green one and one of the pair of gloves you’d gotten that morning.

           “These are huge, where did you even find them?” he chuckled, popping the plastic tie between the gloves and sliding his hands into them.

           “You’re huge, it’s not like I can put you on a kid’s one. Besides they must be pretty serious about their sledding up here, these were just from the hardware store.”

           Sam shook his head and waited for you to put your gloves on. They were comically big on you, but you knew you’d regret not wearing any and tried your best to grip the sides of the plastic sled through them as you took off toward the hill. After a few steps, Sam took the sled from you without a word, able to hold it easily with both his well-fitting gloves and the many extra inches between his arms and the ground.

           The walk up the hill was somewhat of a trudge but the way the crisp air sliced through your lungs was a welcome distraction. Snow dampened the ambient noise so all you could hear was Sam’s rhythmic breathing like a mantra, and with one foot in front of the other, by the time you got to the top you felt like you’d been meditating. The view was amazing from the top, a painting or old illustration with its tiny homes and cottages over meandering fields, the snow washing everything out as if you were watching someone else’s dream.

           “Should we race?” Sam asked, the swirled pigment of his irises lit up by the reflection off the snow.

           The next thing you heard was Sam’s laugh behind you as you took a few big strides and jumped onto the sled. Careening down the hill, your hair snapped around, tiny whips cracking into your wind-tenderized cheeks as you tried in vain to steer the sled in slices across the straight pass. Sam’s cackle was distant but comforting over your shoulder. You closed your eyes to feel the speed underneath you and the wind across your face; listen to that laugh that you’d heard so little recently, an old favorite song to be put on repeat. On January 24th of all days it felt like you were being baptized in the clear crystal sound of it.

           When you came to a stop, Sam was only a half second behind you. You fell over in a fit of giggles listening to him play-whine about cheating and “Totally not fair, after I carry your sled all the way up for you!”

           “I’ll beat you again with no head start! Unless you’re chicken,” you taunted, brushing snow off your legs to start back up the hill again. Sam scrambled to his feet, passing you up quickly with his huge strides as you started to run after him. Gasping with laughter and exertion, you and Sam half-wrestled and chased each other to the top, collapsing to your backs like snow angels. After catching your breath, you propped yourself up on your elbows to look over at him.

           “Rematch?”

           Sam’s smile, all straight pearl teeth and cold-flushed cheeks, was as breathtaking as the icy wind as you tore down the run, this time on your stomach with your head low like a bullet, trying in earnest to win again. The front lip of the sled in your fingertips rumbled against little imperfections in the snow. You glanced to check how much of a lead you had on Sam and had barely turned your head before you realized you were also dipping your shoulder, tilting the sled on its greased-lightning path and therefore you with it. Sam was right on your tail and narrowly missed crushing you when you fell off the sled by bailing out of his, your legs tangling together with misplaced velocity. You tried to hold still so you wouldn’t catch his face with a flailing limb, only moving after a beat when it seemed like the collision was over. Sam’s fall seemed to have been more graceful than yours, as he still had a hand on his sled and only a left arm and hair full of snow that he shook loose like a puppy.

           “Are you okay?” he said, getting to his knees to reach out to you.

           You could feel the scrape on your cheek before you got up, but Sam’s wince was only minor when he saw it which was reassuring. He snatched off his glove and brushed snow off your face gently, barely grazing the broken skin. The warmth felt so nice and you would’ve curled up in his palm like Thumbelina if you could. “What’s the damage?” you asked, trying to think about the way your breath puffed up in clouds around you rather than the snowflakes caught in Sam’s eyelashes.

           He was analytical as he took it in, tilting your head carefully in the light. “Doesn’t look too bad. Does it hurt?”

           “Nah. Did you think I’d get soft that fast? I used to get stabbed like once a month.”

           Sam chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Do you want to go home?”

           It didn’t feel as odd as it should’ve, knowing exactly what home meant in this context. “And let you think I only won by cheating? Fat chance!”

           “You don’t even have a sled anymore!”

           You glanced around you and saw your sled sitting smugly an easy 30 yards past the base of the hill. “Gimme a ride?”

           It was a little awkward until Sam sat down on the sled with each heel straddled and digging into the snow, allowing you to crawl between his legs without unintentionally sliding down the rest of the slope. He seemed unsure of himself as he wrapped his arms around your torso, and you hooked your hands around each of his legs to do your part to hang onto him. “Ready?” he asked, his breath warm on your neck.

           When you nodded, he unstuck his heels and you shot like a racehorse down the hill. Sam’s chest was solid as a rock behind you, cushioned with his layers and fastened with his seatbelt arms. You could feel the muscles in his legs moving against your hands, trying to balance the weight of the two of you on the flimsy material. Despite your fall only moments ago, it was safe in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. The ride came to a stop only a few steps away from your cast off sled.

           You turned into Sam to get to your knees before standing up and slipped on a wet patch on the plastic, the melted snow turning the surface impossibly slick. It made you fall forward into Sam, his seated position not giving him enough stability to stay on balance—the sled shifted back underneath the both of you and brushed your lips across his as you ended up with your scraped cheek against the rough canvas of his jacket.

           “I—oh my god I’m sorry,” you stammered, springing back gracelessly.

           Sam looked somewhat like a little kid or a doll, sitting wide eyed with his legs still spread out around you. You stayed back on your knees feeling like you should move slowly, that maybe you could back away unscathed yet. Sam reached his hands out and you thought it was okay, he understood you wouldn’t cross yet another line with him, that it was a simple mistake and he was going to move past it or ask for your help up, and then his heavily gloved hand slid into your hair and he was leaning toward you, the breath that had felt so comforting on the back of your neck as you flew down the hill now on your bottom lip. Your needle-sharp inhale drew that air from him, and you started to feel dizzy. He waited for a moment, searching between your eyes for you to pull back, to turn it into a joke, but you couldn’t. Something in the light pressure of his hand was an anchor and you found yourself glancing at Sam’s lips and slowly, agonizingly, Sam closed the distance between you.

           His lips were so soft and gentle that it made you feel like you were going to cry and then you were crying, just one hot salty tear that stung the fresh abrasion on your cheek as you moved against him, this foreign and scary part of the person you knew the best on this earth. Somehow kissing Sam was exactly how you would’ve guessed it would be—tender and sweet and reverent. The sound dampening of the snow amplified your other senses: the feeling of the cheap Gore-Tex catching one or two hairs as Sam supported your weight, the small brush of Sam’s breath through his nose, the tight flick of the wind against your coats. It was over as quickly as it started, leaving you and Sam staring at each other bewildered while your hair tangled around you.

           You could feel that your eyes were as wide as Sam’s. Completely unable to formulate a thought or feeling, much less something to say, you silently extricated yourself from the sled. Sam did too, staring at it like it was some complicated spell, even turning away from you as you crossed over to your own store-bought chariot. You could read his tension even in his back, the tight stretch of his shoulders as he clutched at the scruff of his neck, and just wanted to make it better.

           “Okay, rematch for real this time? I would say I won’t fall again but, no promises.”

           Sam looked scared when he turned back to you, his voice gruff when he choked out a halfhearted, “yeah, sure” and followed you up the hill. He was far enough behind you that you couldn’t hear his breathing anymore and it took him a little bit to reach you at the peak. His body seemed like it was cracking around him, aging in moments as he shakily got into his sled beside yours. You wanted so badly to tell him it’s okay, it’s just some dumb mistake, we were just goofing off but you knew it wasn’t true and you didn’t want to lie.

           The only thing you could fix your mouth to say was, “Count us down so you can’t say I’m cheating again,” and hope he heard the apology and forgiveness in it.

           Sam obeyed dutifully and you kicked off down the hill, trying to use the speed you gathered and the clarity in the way it split open your lungs to try to understand what had just happened. The same trip that had felt like glorious ages before was over in a second and you were up out of your sled before you remembered you were supposed to be measuring whether you or Sam had gotten down faster.

           “Tie, we’re going again!” you yelled over your shoulder as you did your best to bound through the deep snow up the side of the hill, not waiting to see if he was following you.

           Once again at the top, ragged and out of breath and only a few steps ahead of him, you took a second to collect yourself before putting your sled back in the snow and holding it in place with one foot.

           “I’m sor—” Sam started before you cut him off.

           “Okay, third time’s the charm!” you said with panicked cheerfulness that you knew instantly was too much, but Sam stopped talking and dejectedly sat on his sled next to you.

           You and Sam spent probably an hour more sledding, your legs turning to jello underneath you as you ran up the hill over and over again and your cheeks getting more and more wind chapped, before Sam finally smiled, exasperated at some joke about still beating him up the hill with legs that were half as long. It was all the fuel you needed to keep chipping away at him until the sun started dropping and the chill broke through all your layers.

           The two of you plodded through the snow back to the car together. Gloves and sleds in the trunk, you flopped into the passenger seat with that sudden too-hot feeling of getting out of the wind and tore at your coat to desperately strip some layers. Sam threw his own jacket in the back. Without giving him a chance to protest or hook up his phone, you turned on the tape deck and Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here pounded out like rocky silk.

           “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you murmured. You looked over at Sam, who burst into a kind of frantic laughter that you completely understood. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing either, because of course this was playing during the tense peace on Dean’s birthday in Dean’s car, and then you and Sam were cry-laughing in the rapidly humidifying air of the Impala while Syd Barrett waxed poetic. By the time the second chunks of Shine On You Crazy Diamond started, you were gasping for air and clutching at your sides.

           You drove home after that in relative silence, the fatigue of fresh air and running all afternoon catching up with you. Sam took a shower while you put together burgers, switching spots with you to cook them while you washed up. They were pretty good due in large part to how seriously Wisconsinites take their cheese, bacon, and beef, and you wolfed yours long before your hair had stopped dripping onto the collar of the threadbare sweatshirt you’d changed into.

           The first shot of scotch burned like it always did, offsetting the sweet tang of the cherry pie and reminding you of the way Dean used to taste when you kissed him at the end of a long night. You looked out the window at the last purple glow of the sunset as it turned the evening into deep, endless inky blue.

           “I’ve gotta—I’m so sorry,” Sam spat out like the words were beating their way out of his mouth.

           “You don’t have to be sorry,” you murmured, unable to immediately meet his gaze and looking down at your pie.

           “I just—I can’t—I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” he stammered.

           You couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of the whole thing. “Join the club.”

           Sam smirked but it was mirthless. “No, I know, but it’s just…I don’t know. I’m sorry.” He stabbed a deflated cherry with pursed lips, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. The fork clattered to his plate. “It’s not getting any easier. Every day I wake up and I’m so mad. It’s so fucking unfair that I have to stay here without him because I know that’s what he fucking wanted, and I feel like there’s no point in trying to have anything like good or normal because I’m just running out the clock. And then today’s Dean’s fucking birthday and I kiss his girlfriend—what is wrong with me?”

           The outburst hung in the air, a toxic smoke that excluded everything else. You slammed the rest of your glass of scotch, relishing the way it scalded. “So I’m just Dean’s girlfriend?”

           “No, that’s not what I—I mean I guess—it’s not like you aren’t—I don’t know, it just seems like you’ll always be his girlfriend.”

           “Are you still Jess’s boyfriend?”

           It was the absolute most cruel and wrong thing to say and you regretted the words as soon as they left your tongue and crashed into Sam, not even really knowing why you’d thought them. They distorted his face in incredulity and betrayal but you didn’t back down, maintaining eye contact until he snatched the bottle and refilled both glasses. When he spoke again his voice was gravelly and broken.

           “I guess I deserved that.”

           “Sam, this is fucking weird. It always has been, us being alive without Dean, and if you’re just now getting that then you’re not as smart as I thought you were. I don’t—I don’t really know what’s going on either, but I know that you’re the only thing that’s keeping me from ending up with a bullet in my skull or in a locked ward, so if you’re waiting for me to forgive you for something, for anything you’ve ever said or done, it’s already forgiven. But we’re too tied up together for every tiny redrawing of the boundaries to send us over the edge. Please.”

           “Tiny redrawing of boundaries? I kissed you!”

           “And I kissed you back, Sam! What do you want to do about it? What’s the absolution here? If you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you. Take the Impala and I’ll find some other car, I’ll borrow the Kaisers’ other one or something. Or maybe you want me to go and I’ll go; I’ll do anything you want me to. I’ll leave right now, you never have to see me again if that’s what you want but I know Dean loved you and loved me and I don’t think he would’ve wanted you to torture yourself all the time so what is it that you want?”

           “I want us to be fucking normal and I don’t want to feel like I’m cheating with my brother’s girlfriend! I don’t want to have a cover story and I don’t want to keep running away!”

           “Then fucking stop! Stop feeling guilty and talk to me about this stuff!”

           Sam laughed, hard and bitter and choked off.

           “I’m serious. We can’t keep doing this shit, at least I can’t. We need to start talking—about Dean, about everything. It’s like this lump of decay and we’re just spraying Febreze and not dealing with it.”

           Sam’s mouth popped open as he tongued his molars. He bit his lip in frustration before crumpling up his napkin and threw it on top of his half-eaten pie. “Okay. Let’s talk.”

           You weren’t expecting that. For all the ways it had seemed like Dean had been the more emotionally closed off, he was always much easier for you to read than Sam, who managed somehow to talk about things without actually communicating how he felt. It was good if you needed to be supported but made it extremely hard to be there for him. Refilling your glasses a bit more conservatively, you offered up an open palm to let Sam go first. His jaw tensed and he swallowed hard.

           “No bullshit?” he asked.

           “No bullshit. What’s the point of bullshitting anymore? After everything?”

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 6

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[rizlowwritessortof]

Meant To Be - Chapter 2

Dean and Jordan are each trying to escape their painful pasts. Their chance meeting and a dangerous encounter begins a relationship that may give them both a new start.

Pairing: Police Detective Dean Winchester/Jordan Taylor

Word Count: 2050

Warnings: Abusive relationship and related violence, nothing graphic.

Aesthetic by @editsbymichele on Instagram; Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Dean pulled on his jeans and shoved his feet into his running shoes, then grabbed his gun, clipping his badge onto his waistband before heading outside.

Jordan’s car was engulfed in flames, and the sound of one of the windows exploding from the heat made him jump. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of Darrel. He had to be close, watching, probably waiting for Jordan to come out. He heard sirens in the distance as he doubled back and went around behind the building.

He moved quickly to the other end of the structure, peering through the darkness for a sign of his prey, then moved across to the backyard of the houses that lined the east side of the block. He moved carefully, almost silent, from one yard to the next until he spotted Darrel watching the fire from behind a tree near the corner house. As he drew closer, he could hear the man mumbling, “Come on, Jordan, where the hell are you?”

Dean stepped up behind him, pressing the muzzle of his gun against the base of his skull. “She’s in her room, right where I told her to stay, dickbag.”

“Man, who the fuck are you?” Darrel blurted out in frustration as he raised his hands.

“Well, for one thing, I’m a cop. And the local boys are on the way, so let’s go meet ‘em.”

“All I wanted was for her to come out, so we could talk.”

Dean snorted and shoved the gun against Darrel’s head, urging him along. “Social skills are really not your strong suit, are they, Darrel?”

Dean marched his reluctant prisoner back to the motel parking lot, holding his badge high as the police cruiser pulled in, followed by the fire department. The officers got out, guns drawn, and Dean shoved the gun into the back of Darrel’s neck again. “Move.” He tossed his badge to one officer, who examined it and handed it back. “This guy is your arsonist. He also assaulted the woman who owns this car earlier today and tried to abduct her. Sorry, don’t have my cuffs on me, so if you’d do the honors...” He gave Darrel a push, filling the officers in on the details as they cuffed the prisoner. As he finished with his report, Jordan flew by him in a furious blur.

“You son of a bitch!” She shouted into Darrel’s face, then rocked back and punched him square in the face with everything she had. The man howled in pain, blood spurting from his nose, and Dean grabbed Jordan’s arm, pulling her away.

“Fuckin’ bitch broke my nose!” Darrel yelled, as an officer, struggling not to laugh, pressed a wad of tissues to his face. “I wanna press charges!”

“For what? I didn’t see anything. You guys see anything?” Dean asked, unable to smother the grin on his face.

“Nope. Didn’t see a thing,” the arresting officer answered with a wink at Jordan. They walked Darrel over to the rescue squad, letting them staunch the bleeding before shoving him into the back seat of the cruiser. With a nod in Dean’s direction, they backed out and headed for the police station.  

As soon as they pulled away, Jordan bent over, groaning in pain, her hand shoved between her knees. “FUCK. Nobody ever told me how much that would hurt!”

Dean tried not to laugh as he reached for her injured hand. “Let me see.” He gave her hand a quick once-over, then put an arm around her shoulders and steered her back towards the room. “Nothing’s broken, at least. Come on, Sugar Ray. Let’s get some ice on it.”

He walked her around the fire truck and down to his room, ushering her in and seating her in a chair before heading to the bathroom for a towel and to the fridge for ice. She accepted the ice pack from him with a sheepish ‘Thank you’ and applied it, wincing. “I know, that was stupid. But damn, it felt good. For a minute, anyway.”

Dean laughed softly. “Yeah, I bet it did. He had it comin’.”

“So...” she glanced up, watching him pour more whiskey into cups for them both. “You didn’t tell me you were a cop.”

“You didn’t tell me you were an MMA fighter, either,” he joked, and she smiled, blushing.

“I’m not. I’ve never hit anybody before in my life.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he chuckled. “But you did a fan-fucking-tastic job of it.” He sat down across from her, sliding one of the drinks over her way.

She laughed softly. “Thanks.”

“Anyway, yeah – I’m a detective. Violent Crimes Division in Kansas City.”

“Oh. That sounds – dark.”

He geared back a little with a nod, a grim smirk on his lips. “Yeah. Sometimes,” he replied, downing a swallow of his whiskey. “So what do you do? Or did you do?”

“I worked for a local attorney. Small town, small office. Hated to leave him, he was a good boss, I’ve worked for him for years. But I needed to get the hell out of Dodge, you know?” She stared into her cup for a moment. “I don’t know what I’ll do now. My plan was to drive to Kansas City, find a cheap motel to live in until I found a job and a place to live. Can’t really drive anywhere now, thanks to that douchebag.”

“Law office, huh?”

“Yeah. I know, it sounds thrilling. But I ran the office, and I loved it. Just… finding something in the city is gonna be a lot different than working for someone I knew my whole life.”

They chatted for a while, until Jordan was yawning more than she was talking, the adrenaline gone and her exhaustion kicking in. Dean laughed softly, and she gave him a shy, sheepish smile. “Well, it is, what – 2:30 AM?? Are you kidding me?”

“Yeah, pretty late. Listen, why don’t you just crawl into the other bed and get some shut-eye. Tomorrow morning the local PD wants you to come in and give your statement, and then that’s hopefully the last you have to deal with Darrel.”

“God, I hope you’re right. But I don’t want to impose on your space...”

“Not imposing. I offered, and I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want you to. You’re barely keeping your eyes open, and we’ll both be asleep as soon as we hit our pillows.”

“Ok, I won’t argue.” Jordan stood and stretched, then headed for the extra bed, pulling the bedding back and slipping between the sheets with a sigh. Dean stopped in the doorway to the bathroom, looking over his shoulder at her.

“I’m gonna grab a quick shower. See you in the morning, Xena.” He flashed a grin and went in,  laughing as a pillow flew towards him, deflected by the quickly closed door.

Jordan fell asleep still smiling.

The next morning Dean was gone when she woke, squinting at the alarm clock next to the bed. It was only a little after 6 AM, but she dragged herself out of the warm cocoon of blankets and headed out the back door to her own room. After a shower and some clean clothes, she was feeling almost human, except for the nagging need for coffee. She was just figuring out the miniscule coffee maker in the kitchenette when a knock sounded at her front door. She peeked through the peephole, then smiled as she opened it to Dean, bearing two very large coffees.

“You are a saint,” she said gratefully as he handed her one of the steaming cups and set the other on the table.

“It’s been said,” he grinned, and she laughed. “I thought we’d have a primer, then head to Molly’s for some breakfast before we go down to the police station. If you want.”

“Oh, breakfast sounds amazing. I’ll bet Molly makes fantastic pancakes.”

“And bacon.” Dean’s eyes closed in pleasure at the thought. “Maybe a couple of eggs.”

“Ooooh, and hashbrowns!” She giggled, sipping at her coffee. “You’d think we didn’t stuff our faces with bacon cheeseburgers and fries last night.”

They took their time at Molly’s, eating their fill and lingering over their coffee, then drove to the police station late that morning. It took longer than Jordan had expected, but finally she was putting her signature to the documents and breathing a sigh of relief, hoping that chapter of her life was behind her at last.

Dean dropped her off at her room, and she spent the next couple of hours on the phone with her insurance company, grateful that they would pay for a tow company to haul her burned-out car to a junk yard. Buying a new vehicle would have to wait until she was back to work.

With that depressing thought, she flopped down on the bed and started sorting through the overwhelming List of Things To Do in her head. Get a rental car, find a cheap but hopefully safe hotel to stay in until she could afford an apartment, and, the biggie… FIND A JOB. In a new city, where she didn’t know her way around.

Her mind was still going in circles as she made more notes and chewed on her pencil, and her phone ringing made her jump. She saw Dean’s name and answered with a little laugh. “Hi, Dean.”

“You doing anything important right now?”

“Not really. Just trying to figure out what’s next for me. Haven’t been making much progress.”

“Well, I kinda wanted to talk to you about something. Can you come to my room? Sam’ll be showing up pretty soon, so I hate to leave.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be right over.”  

Dean was on his phone when he opened the door, and she walked in and took a seat at the table as he finished his conversation. “Okay, Sammy – see you in a while.” He grinned at her as he pulled out the chair across from her and plopped down.

“So, Dean, what’s up? There’s not a problem with the statement at the station or anything, is there?”

“No, nope, everything’s fine as far as I know. I just wanted to run something by you.”

She leaned back in her chair and looked at him, not sure what to expect. “Okay...”

“So, you’re headed to KC, right? That’s the plan?”

“Well, yeah – it was the plan before my car got torched. Now it’s getting more complicated.”

“Not really. It’s actually pretty simple. See, Sam and I are headed back there tomorrow morning. There’s no reason why you can’t just ride down with us.”

Jordan’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Why not? We live there, anyway, we’re all headed to the same place. If you want. I’m not trying to push you or anything, but – we’d be more than happy to give you a ride.”

“Is – I mean, would your brother be okay with that?”

“Okay, second thing. So, I told Sam about your former job. See, he’s an attorney, and he just lost his legal assistant about three weeks ago. He hasn’t been able to find anybody else yet, and he’s dying to meet you.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m serious.”

“Dean, I don’t know what to say… The only thing is, I’ll need to rent a car so I can look for a place to live temporarily until I have a steady paycheck.”

Dean grinned. “Third thing. Talked to Donna, my partner. She lives in a two-bedroom place, and she’s been talking about getting a roomie. Not that you’d have to commit to that, but she said you’d be welcome to stay with her until you got settled down there. Or stay on as her roommate if you like it there and decide you want to, whatever.” Jordan was staring at him with her mouth open, so he continued. “Look, I know I just dumped a whole load of stuff on you, you don’t have to answer this second, but the offer – well, offers – are on the table.”

She moved her gaze to the table top and blew out an overwhelmed breath. Tears were stinging at her eyes as she looked back up at him. “Dean Winchester, where have you been my whole life?”

Chapter 3

[impalas-r-important]

Love of my Life - (6) How it all started

Summary: This is the story of how Dean and Y/N met.

Warnings: Some show level violence. Dean being a sap.

A/N: Okay, we're hitting rewind to delve into some back story before we continue on any further. I loved writing these next few chapters about how Dean and Y/N met. This is set just weeks after Dean returns from hell in S4. The italics are Dean's thoughts. Let me know if you'd like a tag for the rest of the series. Thanks for all the love!

Series Masterlist

DEAN'S POV

Sam and I were in over our heads and we knew it. What was supposed to be a small nest of vamps ended up being a whole house full. The first few we took care of easily, then they started coming out of the woodwork. Left and right, up and down, they were everywhere. So, we did what we always did; we went to work. Heads were rolling, blood was spattering, fangs were flying, but I was backed into a corner with 3 of them closing in on me and Sam had his own problems. He was on the floor, trying desperately to back away from two onrushing blood suckers. Both of us weaponless, we exchanged looks as if to say goodbye, and I prepared myself to fight for my life.

I raised my bloodied fists, staring straight into the eyes of the monster who would surely kill me. He took half a step forward before stopping dead in his tracks as a quick flash of a blade sliced through his neck so smoothly that his head stayed balanced for a moment before slipping off to the ground with his body following suit. I didn’t have even have enough time to feel shocked when the remaining two vamps who were cornering me met the same fate. What the hell? I thought to myself. I looked up to gauge the situation when I saw her. Long Y/H/C hair danced through the room, swiftly flowing as she expertly beheaded pests left and right, a machete in each hand.

“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help?” She yelled as she slid one of her blades over to me. I picked it up and joined back in the fight. She had already taken care of the vampires after Sam and he was by her side, picking them off quickly. I took care of another three, leaving just two left who were quickly retreating and too far away for us to catch them on foot. The strays had almost made it to the door when I saw the mystery hunter throw her machete, nailing one square in the back. She then grabbed my knife from my hand, flinging it at the other, leaving both of them lying on the ground. Two bullseyes. Damn.

Sam and I jogged over to them, pulled the blades from their backs and, in unison, sliced their heads off. Chests heaving, we looked up at each other, then over to the new girl who was wiping blood from her machete on the jacket of one of the victims.

“Bleh.” I heard her mutter to herself as she casually kicked a severed head from her path and walked over to us.

“Sam and Dean, right?” She asked.

Sam and I, both still shaking off the shock, hesitated to answer. Sam cut the silence. “Uhm, not to sound ungrateful, but who are you?”

“Your new favorite person.” She gave a teasing side smile. “I’m Y/N. Bobby Singer called me and asked if I could check in on you boys. He said something about you having your heads too far up your asses to ask for help.”

I got lost in her eyes when she looked at me and my heart was beating so heavily that I felt my legs shake with every thump. I could only hope she and Sam couldn’t hear it beating. Sam noticed my dreamy state and hit my side, pulling me from the trance. I cleared my throat and desperately searched for the words to invite her to stick around for the rest of the night. I had to get to know her. A million phrases ran thought my mind, but all that managed to slip from my mouth was, “We have a shower.”

Sam dramatically turned his head and looked at me like I had lobsters crawling out my ears. Y/N raised her eyebrow and nodded a little. “Okay. Good for you?” She replied, clearly confused.

“Oh, no, I just…. I, uh…” I stammered. Sam quickly interrupted me. Thank goodness.

“I think what my brother is trying to say is that you are welcome to come back to our motel and clean up if you want.”

“I actually have a room not too far off from here, but I appreciate the offer.”

Crap. Say something, Dean! Don’t just let her go.

“Well can we at least meet up with you and buy you dinner? We owe you that.” I, too eagerly, counter-offered, just relieved that I spoke in full sentences.

“Okay, yeah that sounds good. Let me go get this blood washed off first though.” Y/N agreed.

“Great, meet us at that old timey diner on main street at five.” Sam added.

“See you then, boys.” Y/N looked between the two of us and smiled.

“It’s a date!” The words flew out of my mouth before I even thought about them twice. “Well, not an actual date, but you know…” I rubbed the back of my neck and grimaced at my own stupid self. Y/N gave a small laugh and sent a wink my way before leaving.

Sam waited until the door was closing behind Y/N before he turned to me. “Dude... We have a shower?” He mocked, clearly trying to suppress his laughter, which escaped in a snort anyway. “You’ve got it bad!”

“I do not!” I tried to fight, but I knew I was lying to myself. Right now, I should be feeling lucky that we didn’t die a horrible death, but all I could think of were Y/N’s deep eyes, brilliant smile and that wink she sent my way. Damn, that wink. “Shut up. Let’s get outta here.”

Sam’s laughter continued all the way back to the motel. He was having way too much fun reenacting the “lost puppy” look on my face.

Sam was in the shower and I walked over to the mirror hanging above the desk and gave myself an internal pep talk.

You are Dean freaking Winchester. Girls don’t scare you and you will not be an idiot tonight!

I gave myself a reassuring nod then reminded Sam to hurry so I could wash all the vampire gunk off of me.

We pulled into the diner just before five and the waitress seated us. The minutes seemed to drag on and I couldn’t help but check my watch every few seconds.

“Dude, relax. I can feel your anxiety from across the table.” Sam said, not picking his eyes up from his menu. I sent him a glare and began to read down the list of food they had here. The bell at the door dinged, signaling someone had entered and my eyes shot up. There was Y/N, dressed in blue jeans and a plain white shirt. How could she be so beautiful in something so casual? She looked around and I waved my hand at her, my heart singing the second she saw me. I was mesmerized by her doing something so simple as just walking over to us at the table.

“You two clean up nice.” She greeted. Sam had purposely sat in the middle of his side of the booth with our coats on either side of him so she wouldn’t have any choice but to sit by me. You would have thought I had just finished running a marathon with how fast my heart was beating.

“So,” she picked up her menu and glanced over it, “you guys been here before? What’s good?”

Sam answered first. “We got some take out last night. The grilled chicken salad is pretty good.”

“Nah, come on. We’re celebrating! I don’t know about you guys, but seventeen vamps inside an hour is a personal record. You can’t celebrate properly with salad.”

I tried my best to hide my smile at her comment.

“My go to is always a cheeseburger of some kind. Preferably with bacon.” I added.

“Mmm, you know what? Bacon does sound good. I’ll go for the BLT.” She smiled and shut her menu, placing it on the edge of the table. Man, this girl just keeps getting better. “So, I’ve gotta admit, I never thought that the first time I’d be meeting the famous Winchesters would be me saving your asses.”

“You’ve heard of us?” I ask, trying my hardest not to stare too much.

“Are you kidding? Everyone in the hunting community knows who you two are. Plus, Bobby loves you boys more than he’d ever admit.”

“I remember Bobby talking about you, too.” Sam joined in. “He said he loved you like a daughter, but he never sent us out on cases with you because he didn’t want us to ruin you.”

“Hah! Yeah, that sounds like Bobby.” Her smile absolutely lit up the small diner. “He told me he didn’t want me ever getting involved with you boys because you were bad influences. Well, mostly just Dean actually.” She looked at me and added, “Bobby said you’re too much of a womanizer for me to be around.”

I didn’t want her to think that I was interested in her just to use her. My soul wanted to get to know hers.

“I used to be.” I admitted. “Not so much anymore.”

“What changed?” Y/N asked.

“I guess going to hell and coming back really changes a guy.” I laughed.

“Fair enough.” Every time Y/N looks at me, I get a rush of adrenaline. I’m trying my hardest not to blush when the waitress comes over to take our orders.

Dinner was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. We exchanged hunting stories and talked about our lives a lot. Y/N’s family had died when she was little, and she bounced around between Bobby and a few other hunters who helped raise her. She seems to be the most put together person for having a past like that.

Y/N excused herself to use the bathroom and Sam made his move. “Alright, Dean, I’m going to head back to the motel. You good to walk?”

“What? Why?”

“I’m going to give you two some time to yourselves. Tell her I was just tired from the hunt and wanted to head back.”

I give him a suspicious look, but I’m actually more than happy I get some one-on-one time with Y/N.

“Oh, and don’t sleep with her. Bobby will send you straight back to hell.” Sam added with a hard pat on the back as he takes the keys from me and heads out the door.

Y/N comes back and asks where Sam went.

“Oh, he’s kind of a party pooper. He went back to the motel for some shut eye. You don’t mind if I keep you company, do you?”

“I’d like that.” A shy smile crept up on her face.

“So, we’re celebrating. How about some dessert?”

“Hell yes. You are speaking my language. I have the world’s biggest sweet tooth.”

“What are you in the mood for? I guess you get to pick since you saved my ass.” I was obviously hoping she’d choose pie.

“Anything chocolate.”

“Hmmm,” I look over the small menu off to the side of the table, “chocolate cream pie? I love me some pie.”

“Perfect!” She waived the waitress over and order a whole pie. A girl after my own heart.

A few minutes later, a beautiful, massive pie is set down on our table with two forks and we dive in. I ate my fair share, but Y/N polished most of that thing off.

“I’m impressed.” I sit back and rub my full stomach as I look at her finishing the last few bites of the pie. “I’ve never seen any girl eat that much.”

She shrugged. “I love chocolate. Plus, hunting makes me hungry.”

I can’t help but admire her every movement. She’s so kind and graceful, and her hair falls so perfectly around her shoulders. I can’t find one flaw and I know I’m in trouble. She catches me staring at her a few moments too long, but I shake off the embarrassment and keep the conversation flowing, not wanting this night to end. We talked for hours about anything and everything. Dreams, hopes, fears, music, food, family, and before I know it, the waitress is telling us that we have to leave because they are closing. My heart drops because I just can’t get enough of this girl. Everything in me was so drawn to her.

I open the door for her, and the slight breeze is just cold enough to give her goosebumps. Immediately I take off my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders, holding it up enough to let her arms slide in.

“Thank you.” She smiled.

“Don’t thank me, I’m only standing here right now because you saved my life.” We stand silent for a few seconds just looking at each other before she breaks the stare and reaches into her pocket, pulling out her car keys.

“Well, let me at least give you a ride back to your motel. It’s too cold out here for you to be walking.”

It wasn’t too cold, but I wouldn’t turn down that offer in a million years.

“You mind driving? I’m pretty sleepy.” She held her keys out to me. Something about the way she said “sleepy” and looked up at me while drowning in my jacket made me go crazy. I hadn’t known this girl for even 12 hours, and she owed my entire heart already.

“Of course.” I gladly took her keys from her and subconsciously placed my hand on her lower back like we were some cheesy-ass couple, but she didn’t stop me, so I left it there as I lead her to the only car left in the parking lot, which I assumed to be hers.

“Where are you staying?” I asked.

“At the Red Rock motel, about ten minutes that way.” She pointed north. I couldn’t help but laugh as I moved her arm to the right.

“Sam and I are holed up there too, but it’s actually east.”

We both laughed as I started up the engine.

“Don’t judge me. I drove twenty hours straight to save your asses and I’m tired.” She joked. “Plus, I’ve never been that good with directions.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got your own personal compass now.” I sent her a wink, and she bit her bottom lip, trying to fight the blush that was creeping up on her cheeks, which, in turn, made me blush. Dammit, am I a freaking teenager again?

We pulled into the motel and I walked her to her room. She shrugged off my jacket and thanked me as she gave it back and told me goodnight.

I couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off of my face the entire walk back to my room, and upon entering, Sam noticed.

“Aww, Dean’s in love.” Sam half mocked from the bed he was sitting on, with his computer in his lap.

“Whatever.” I brushed him off. “You got a new case?” I nodded to the computer and newspapers that he had been studying.

“Yeah, I think so. Some missing people in Montana have shown up with their hearts ripped out.”

“Sounds wolfy to me.” I added as I began to get ready for bed. “Maybe Y/N wants to come with us. You good if I invite her?”

Sam raised his eyebrows at me. “No, I don’t mind. But be straight with me for a minute here. Dean, how much do you really like this girl?”

I didn’t even feel the need to lie. “I really, really like her. Like I’m already in way too deep for not knowing her for a full day.”

“Wow. The great Dean Winchester is whipped. Never thought I’d see that day.” Sam closed his laptop and began to gather up all his papers. “Be honest, was it when she threw the machetes?”

“The freaking machetes, man. That was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen…” I trailed off. “But no, I mean, that’s part of it, but it’s just everything about her. I can’t say it’s one specific thing, because it’s just every single detail about her draws me in.”

“Alright Nicholas Sparks, well I’m getting some shut eye and you should too. We have a long drive tomorrow.” Sam turned off the lamp by his bed and turned away from me, snoring almost instantly. I slid under the covers, knowing that I should be exhausted after a long day that involved almost dying, but all I could think about was talking to Y/N tomorrow.

Chapter 7

Tags:

@vicmc624

[ill-skillsgard]

Bred For Blood - Part 19 - Promise-Promise

Title: Bred For Blood

Warning: 18+ - sex/mature language & themes/gun violence/substance abuse etc. *mentions of coma/unconsciousness, injuries, and sex in this part*

Characters: AU Axel Cluney, AU Ivar Lothbrok, AU Valter x OC

Description: A bright, young survivor meets an acid-gun slinging headhunter with a knack for melting faces and connections to a prodigal Utopia embedded in the heart of a deadly forest. Violence and passion incite a battle of fealty while betrayal nips at Zed’s heels.

Note: Sooo many feelings in this part, you guys. Next part will be the finale! My gosh, it’s actually coming. Stick around because it’s gonna be a doozy! Much love to all the readers who’ve waited patiently and shout out to any new readers who’ve taken the time to let me know their thoughts. I appreciate all the comments and reblogs forever! With that being said, please comment and reblog. It’d really make my day. XO

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Zed waited for Vee next to the window overlooking the vast green ocean of vegetation. The sliver of sun painted the sky aflush, rolling west in shades of violet. Pinprick stars perforated the melting spectrum, and the phantom moon showed its impatient face fully before the horizon swallowed all light. It was a soothing array of scenery, and Zed rested her head on the glass until footsteps drew her attention to the door. She smiled as Vee came in carrying a plate of zucchini fritters and mashed chickpeas, returning the warm greeting silently.

"Hungry? Axel wasn't a fan. He wants a cheeseburger from McDonald's," said Vee, handing the platter to Zed.

She accepted the dish with a nod. "Did you tell him why that's not possible?"

Vee sighed. The dark beneath his eyes seemed permanent now. "I didn't get into detail. He wouldn't understand."

"Shouldn't we make him understand?"

"It's too soon. The big lug just woke up. It was a challenge just to get him to lie there. Soon he'll want to leave the lab, and I don't know how he'll fare around his adoring fans."

Zed bit into a greasy fritter and scooped a dollop of the paste with the leftover crescent. "He'll love the ego-boost, I'm sure."

"That's what I'm afraid of. All those people will confuse him. Who knows what that might do to his head. We're in a delicate situation."

"Axel seems to like me. Maybe I can convince him to stay put."

Vee grimaced from the thought of Axel working Zed over with his motoring mouth and crass sense of humour. The scientist had grown accustomed to nights alone with her, cooking together and discussing their future. The night they'd spent alone in the greenhouse rang in his heart; the night he admitted his feelings and begged her to squash them. The thought of her alone with Axel picked a scab he didn't know he had.

"You're worried about something," Zed said.

Vee snapped from his bittersweet reverie and sighed. "Am I ever not worrying?"

"True," Zed snorted. "Now, eat. I can't finish this all myself."

The pair finished the plate before Vee set the dish aside and motioned her to the sofa.

"We need to talk about what we found in Glott's notes. I know we can't test this theory, but we should treat it as the truth," said Vee.

"Okay, well, if that's how we're approaching this D negative blood sample... What's the next step? We have no medical supplies. I checked the med tent in the courtyard for the third time just for fun."

"Then we have to visit Glott and get some answers. And by we... I mean me."

"Valter—"

"I know you don't want me to leave, but what other option do we have? Every day we waste here is another step backward."

Zed shook her head until a thin braid dislodged from behind her ear and swung in her face. Vee resisted the urge to tuck it back. The girl's face swivelled toward the window, and she pondered and watched the premature stars twinkle across the bruised sky.

"We go together," Zed said firmly. "I won't budge on that."

"And what about Axel?"

"We wait until he's better. We'll need him to navigate the way."

"And if he never recovers?" Vee asked.

"Then we go anyway. All three of us. We get Axel better, and we go together."

Vee inhaled through his nose as Zed screwed her eyes into his. When he nodded, a smile unfurled across her face, shadowed by the last drops of brassy sunlight.

"I hate this plan, but I suppose it's all we have," said Vee.

"Promise we'll all stick together."

"Of course, Lea. I won't leave without you guys. Promise."

"Promise-promise?"

"I double promise with a cherry on top. Stick a needle in my eye and call it macaroni."

Zed stifled laughter beneath her palm. "I think you've been hanging out with Sam too much."

"That, or I'm just tired."

"I'll let you sleep now. You look beat."

Vee twisted his mouth in lopsided agreement. "Yeah, you're right. I'm gonna hit the shower first. Unless you want to?"

"No, you go ahead. I'll stay here a little longer," Zed said as she laid her temple against the cool glass and looked out over the forest floor, now drowning in the twilight.

~*~

In the morning, Zed left the apartment and padded down the hallway in her mismatched slippers. She slowed as she turned the corner and found the brothers talking. Axel's eyebrows were locked in a line, and Vee looked up at her with relief.

"Lea, can you help me explain to Axel why he can't leave the hospital room?"

Axel whipped the covers off his thighs. "This place is fuckin' weird, and I know you're lying to me. That doctor you had in here is a whack-job. Something isn't adding up."

"Stay put," Vee commanded.

Zed rubbed the sleep from her eyes and prepared to take both sides with a long breath. "Axel, your brother is right. You can't leave yet. Just stay a little longer and heal."

"Where the fuck am I, Vee? This isn't like any hospital I've ever been to. And why can't I use the phone to call mom and dad?"

Axel's question erased all the sleep Vee had gotten the night before. His fatigue was contagious. Zed approached the bed and brushed Axel's shoulder. The touch diffused the tension in his upper body and opened him up to a new explanation, one that hadn't come from his kid brother's mouth.

"There are no phones here, Axel. You're right... This place is different. We're missing a lot of things you’d consider normal."

"Look, darlin', I know you're just trying to make me feel better, but none of what you're saying makes any sense. What do you mean there's no phone? There's electricity, isn't there? So why can't I hobble my way to a pay phone or borrow someone's cell?"

Vee and Zed exchanged pained looks. The younger brother kneaded his brow and offered Axel the same explanation he had before, reworded. Axel refused to believe a word and scrambled off the gurney, throwing Vee's hands off him as he limped a few steps and realized his mistake.

"What the fuck is wrong with my foot? Did someone sliced my ankle in half? What is happening to me? I feel like I'm on an acid trip that never ends. I go to sleep and see crazy shit, only to wake up in an even crazier place where there're no phones and no fucking food! You're talking in goddamn riddles, Vee. The least you can do is get me a Baconator for my trouble! I can't walk—I can't even jerk off 'cause my good hand is fucked. You gotta help me out."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Axe? There are no restaurants!"

"Bullshit! Sweetheart, come on, you can help me, right? Can you please just grab me something greasy? I'll pay you back, I promise. I'm good for it."

"I wish I could help you, Axel, but Vee's right. There's nowhere to get stuff like that anymore."

"Anymore? What does that even mean? You guys are talking like I slept through the apocalypse or something!"

Zed turned to Vee, who blocked the way to the courtyard. "Come on, Axe. Just settle down, and get back into bed."

"Are you gonna find me some painkillers then?" Axel faltered toward the bed and hoisted himself onto the flat mattress with his right arm.

"I'll see what I can do, buddy, but will you promise to stay here for a little longer?"

"Whatever," Axel scoffed. "What else am I gonna do?"

Zed waited until Axel slid back under the covers and tilted his face away from them both to assess Vee's mood. She suspected Axel's recovery would be difficult. Still, when she pictured him with his eyes open again, she heard laughter and saw game nights, shared wine and inside jokes knitting them closer together—not disarray and a friend who'd forgotten her. And if Vee had left the day he championed himself, Axel wouldn't have any flagship of his past. The scientist's presence tranquillized her despite Axel's rotten mood fouling the atmosphere.

"You're hungry, Axel?" Zed asked.

"Starving."

"I'll try to track down something tasty to eat. It won't be a greasy burger, but maybe I can find you something close to fries. I'll make it myself if I have to."

Axel flipped his eyes to the girl standing with her arms knotted behind her back and smiled. "Oh, darlin'...You're a sweet thing. I'd hate to ask, so I'll just accept the offer. Or maybe Vee can go, and you and I can chat a little more?"

Zed chuckled at the man's slyness. "I have some other things to do. We’ll talk when I get back."

"Don't rush for me, honey, but if you do, I'll take it as a good sign," Axel said with a wink.

At the cost of one of her knit blankets, Zed found someone in Athena to chop and bake a sweet potato in peanut oil. She bartered for garlic and salt to sprinkle on the dish. The redheaded child spotted her making transactions and stopped her at the mouth of the Hives with a cloth of fermented cashew cheese and a large chunk of bread that sat out overnight but was still soft. She offered the foodstuffs to Axel on a thin wood slab, and he accepted with an obsequious grin. He relinquished his dissatisfaction and warmed next to Zed.

"Aw, darlin', look at you go. How can I thank you for your trouble?" Axel asked as he chomped a crispy strand of sweet potato.

Zed stepped back from his bed, blushing. "It's okay, Axel. You don't have to do anything but get better."

"Will you stay with me for a while? If I have to stay in bed, it'd really make my life easier if I have someone to talk to. That is if you don't mind my chattiness."

"Sure. Let me grab a chair from the apartment," said Zed.

Axel finished his meal quickly, and as if he hadn't eaten at all, felt the pang of hunger moments after the last bite of bread. His appetite woke up ravenous, and no amount of homegrown food could satiate the growl.

"I might need to eat again in an hour," Axel informed as Zed dragged the chair across the floor. “I’m a big boy, you know.”

"That's fine. I'll find you something in a little while ."

The injured man nodded and sighed, eyelashes fluttering over tired green eyes. A bloated silence proceeded, and Zed wondered how to initiate a conversation. Vee told her not to confuse Axel with present-day news, but all she wanted to do was ask about Richard Glott's underground bunker and with who he'd crossed paths that left him slashed and maimed.

After a couple of deep breaths, Axel murmured, "I see you in my dreams every time I fall asleep. Is that strange?"

Zed hid her shy smile behind her palm. "Oh, stop."

Axel shimmied his torso higher on the bed and frowned in pain. "No, seriously. Not trying to be slick, honey. I see the most fucked up things when I sleep. You know the kind of dreams so vivid, you wake up and your heart’s pounding, thinking it's all real for a minute? Then you're like... No way."

Zed shifted closer to Axel's bed. "What do you dream about?"

Axel smiled to himself. "You, mostly... Us. You and me doing crazy shit together. Sometimes I'm in the desert, and I see this airplane in the distance. It's on the ground, and I ride toward it, you know, you're not gonna ignore a crashed plane, right? Then I find you there, but these guys are hurting you, and you're going nuts trying to shake 'em, but there's too many, so I shoot 'em all, and they melt like popsicles. You stab one good, though."

"What else?" Zed asked.

"I dunno... Sometimes it's just me and you cruising through the desert, and I get the feeling you hate me, but I kinda like it. I'm happy you're there, even though we're in the middle of nowhere, and I have no idea what's gonna happen next."

"Sounds like some pretty weird dreams."

"They're so lucid. It's like a movie, and I'm the main character, and you're... Well, you. Like my cool sidekick."

"Sidekick, huh?" Zed scoffed.

"Yeah, you have this air about you that's like not to be fucked with. Then things always get real dark. I don't even want to tell you about it 'cause you'll think I'm fucked in the head."

Zed knew this part of the story and lowered her eyes to the floor. "It's okay. You can tell me if you want. It's just dreams, right?"

"Nah, I'll just leave it at that. It's not sex stuff or anything if you're wondering."

"Your dreams are more entertaining than anything I have going on today."

With Zed's green light, Axel inhaled deeply before launching into the story of their past. Before he uttered another syllable, a severed connection sparked in his head. His eyes grew large, and he looked around the makeshift hospital room, awestruck.

"In my dreams, we're trying to get to Vee. He needs us for some reason."

"What does he need?"

"Some science shit, which makes total sense because he's a scientist. He's actually a scientist, and not just in my dreams."

"Axel... These dreams you've had... Do you think they have significance?" Zed asked carefully.

"Totally. They have to. Right? Or am I fucking crazy?"

"You're not crazy, Axel. I promise."

"But what if I am? This place... I get such a bad feeling when I'm awake in this room by myself. Vee won't tell me where we are. It's like he's hiding something, and he never lies to me about anything. We don't do that."

"Vee just wants you to get better. He's under a lot of stress, and your recovery is a big part of that. We didn't think—he didn't think you'd make it through. Another complication is the last thing you guys need."

Axel went quiet again and fixated on the dust motes and bolts of lightning crackling up his leg. A storm grew behind his eyes, the same torrents Zed saw when she tried to stop him from leaving Kinderfeld and her behind. Sickened by the thought of Axel sneaking off, she touched his arm and offered a warm smile.

"Talk to me, Axel. Please. Don't keep anything inside."

Axel glanced at her small hand on his tattooed bicep and the lightning in his body faded.

"We were friends in a past life," Axel claimed.

"We're friends in this life."

"Can I tell you one other thing, then I promise I'll stop talking about my bonkers dreams?"

"Yes. I don't mind at all."

Axel curled his bicep and touched Zed's fingers, feeling the motion out until she grasped his hand.

"I think I have to take you somewhere."

"Oh, yeah?" Zed giggled. "And where's that?"

Axel blushed for the first time and brought her hand to hold next to him on the bed. "Not like on a date or anything. I just get this feeling that I'm supposed to protect you, even though you seem capable of looking after yourself just fine. This dream voice keeps reminding me to stay with you and Vee... Like I'm not allowed to let either of you out of my sight. Especially not you."

"Then don't," Zed said.

He squeezed her fingers gently. "I won't."

~*~

Word of Axel's consciousness seeped out of the lab and into the village. Nobody knew who had made the discovery—Vee blamed Samson while Zed suspected Nalani, who'd waltzed by the lab doors at a suspiciously slow pace several times each day—and leaked the information. They barred visitors and only allowed the doctor in to help change Axel's bandages until Ivar arrived.

Axel was alone, humming a tune from his teenage years when the king came through the doors and stopped to stare at his bed-ridden friend.

"Zee, you're awake? And no one thought to tell me?"

"Sorry, hombre, but I think you have the wrong room. Name's Axel."

Ivar flashed all his sharp teeth in a sly smile and wagged his finger. "Always a joker."

"No, really," Axel chuckled, then went deadpan. "Wait... Who are you?"

Before Ivar spoke, Vee walked into the lab and froze when he saw Ivar standing a few feet from Axel's bed.

"Ivar. I wasn't expecting you."

The king sneered and motioned toward Axel. "What's with this guy?"

"Hey, maybe we can talk for a second?" Vee invited Ivar down the hall, out of earshot.

Ivar glared at the scientist. "When exactly were you planning on telling me he woke up?"

"That's the thing, Ivar. You don't understand... Axel's suffering from amnesia. It's common for coma patients to lose parts of their memory. Right now, he's in a very touchy state. He has no idea where he is, who you are, or what any of this is. I've tried to keep people away from him to avoid confusion, but now everybody knows. It's not good for him. Subjecting him to all this new information can cause anxiety, panic... Who knows. We're trying to ease him back into life."

"What do you mean he doesn't know who I am? I'm his best friend."

"Trust me. Axel doesn't even remember serving in the army."

"That's crazy. We should tell him—"

"No. It's too big of a shock. Axel's already gone through hell. Imagine trying to explain our world to somebody who has virtually no idea what's happened in the last couple of years."

Ivar pondered and didn't respond to Vee's relief, then sighed as though he accepted the explanation.

"So what does this mean for you? I assume you're retracting your claim and staying in Kinderfeld?"

Vee twisted his mouth to the side. "How can I go now?"

"You volunteered."

"That was before Axel came home. He needs me. I'm the only person he recognizes. Give me some more time with him, get him back on his feet and see if he'll start remembering, then I'll go."

Ivar crossed his arms across his burly chest. "Who knows how long that might take?"

"Would you leave someone you loved in that state?"

"I'd do what's for the greater good."

"He's your best friend. He's my brother. Axel needs us right now, Ivar. Think of all he's done for us. We owe it to take care of him until he's fit to at least walk again. I need him to remember what happened so I can get a better idea of what's going on outside."

"I suppose you're right," Ivar conceded. "You can't go out blind by yourself."

"Yes, you're right," Vee said with great relief.

"So what now? I can't talk to him?"

"You can speak to him if you like, but try not to bring up things that might confuse him. Don't talk about the army or mention recent times."

Ivar looked over his shoulder at the apartment's open door and heard the muted humming of a girl filtering through the corridor.

"And how's Lea taking all of this?"

Vee stiffened. "She's helping out."

"Axel has no idea who she is? He really doesn't know what's happened?"

"Not that I can tell. He keeps asking for cheeseburgers and to call our parents."

"Wow," Ivar whispered.

"Yeah, it's hard."

Ivar went quiet, distant, and shook his head slowly before inhaling through his nose and squeezing Vee's shoulder. "I trust you, brother. Maybe we'll talk more about your expedition in a few days when things have a chance to settle with Axel."

"You got it."

Axel pretended he wasn't trying to listen to the conversation between his brother and the brown-haired man with the striking blue eyes when the pair returned. Ivar nodded at Axel, his eyes awash with sympathy for the indisposed man.

"How are you feeling, Axel?"

"A little on the shitty side, my man. Not gonna lie. Hands busted, foot's bum... Can't fuck my way to a decent meal in this place, and everyone's tiptoeing around like I'm a sleeping baby. Gotta say I've had better days."

"Well, I hope you heal up quick. There are a lot of people who want to see you."

A coy smirk unfurled over Axel's face. "Yeah, I kinda get that impression. Sometimes, I see people looking in through those doors. I feel like a panda at a zoo. Everyone wants a peek at little ol’ Axel, huh?"

"Is there anything I can get you?"

"Cheeseburger?" Axel asked hopefully.

"Would if I could, friend."

"Goddamn it," Axel lamented.

Vee widened his eyes when Ivar looked at him, confirming what they'd discussed in the hallway.

"Say, how do you stay so beefy if there's no meat in this place?" Axel asked Ivar.

"I get my protein where I can. Try to stay fit. I'll get someone to bring you something good to eat."

Axel snorted. "Yeah, that's what that sweet-lookin' one said, but everything tastes like tree bark. No offence to her. She tried her best, and I'd never insult a lady's cooking to her face."

Ivar sucked in his bottom lip and nodded. "Well, I'll see what I can do for you, Axel. Get better soon."

Vee held his breath until Ivar left the lab and shrunk once the doors closed.

"You sure have a way with words, don't you?"

"Everyone who walks in here acts like they know me."

"We might have to move you to the apartment. Put a cap on your visitors."

"Who was that?" Axel asked.

"That's Ivar Lothbrok. He kinda runs things, in a sense."

"Nice guy."

Vee scoffed. "Yeah. Nice."

An itch stuck in the back of Axel's head, and he grew quiet once again, trying to unravel the mystery he'd woken up inside. He was a figure in a snow globe, a permanent fixture in a landscape rife with faces he'd seen in dreams. Sitting up in his bed, Axel wondered what laid beyond the confines of his glasshouse. Never one to follow the rules, even under the firm guidance of his smart younger brother, Axel decided once everyone fell asleep, he'd find himself a walking post and go exploring.

~*~

Zed woke to the sound of Vee's soft snoring coming through the open door of his bedroom. The possibility of sleep retracted with every second she spent staring at the smooth, globular ceiling in the dark, trying to make shapes out of the dream residue behind her eyelids. The sofa stiffened her back, and she twisted her spine until air bubbles popped and her muscles strained from the motion. She pulled the blanket up to her chin and squeezed her eyes shut for a few minutes, but Axel's stories followed her from sleep, brushing up on her with sharp quills. Since Axel painted his dream world, she hadn't stopped thinking of him and mourning the loss of his memory for the both of them. Axel didn't know his missing pieces were dancing under his eyes each time he slumbered, and she longed to stitch them together to create the full picture.

She squinted into the darkness, fatigue long since faded, and left the apartment. Light on her bare feet, Zed padded down the hallway and turned the corner to find an empty bed. Her heart twinged from Axel's absence. She considered going back to the apartment to tell Vee his brother was missing but found herself propelled to seek Axel out herself. There was nowhere in the lab a man of Axel's stature could hide, so she went out to the courtyard to begin her search. The floodlights cast pyramids of light over the foothills but revealed nothing but stone paths and glittering grass ranks. She started left first, then changed her mind and shot right toward the warehouse. Zed minded her steps as she picked up a jog, extending her legs to clear the roiling yards until she reached the square entrance of the warehouse. A guard leaned against the steel wall next to the exit, blinking and wiping a hand over his face to rouse himself. He saw Zed across the cement expanse and stood up straight.

"What're you doing out here?" The guard's voice clattered through the chamber.

"Sorry," Zed said, casting a thorough glance around before retreating into the light and shadow of the courtyard again. She rushed to the Hives, taking quick strides to reach her abandoned apartment before anyone else noticed her. After a quick knock, Zed opened the door to find her former living quarters as deserted as ever. Nobody had claimed the space in her absence, nor was Axel's adjoining apartment occupied. Both rooms were empty.

Zed's search for Axel continued and grew in urgency with each lonely cove and space she found. As she made her way around the central dome where the courtyard bordered the largest hill, she stopped at the mouth of the Chrysalis and addressed the men standing guard.

"Have either of you seen someone limping through here?"

"Nobody's come 'round here, Zed. Who're you looking for?"

Zed cocked her head. "Who do you think?"

"You mean Zee?" The man on the right asked. "Thought he was paralyzed."

"So it's true? He's awake?"

"Please don't tell anyone. Not yet."

The bearded guard rose a dark eyebrow at Zed. He was one of Ivar's highest-ranking patrol. Zed recognized him from the night they'd brought in the Zeronaut captain, Monk. He often stood by wherever Ivar went and didn't talk much unless addressed. "Ivar know about this?"

"I don't know what Ivar knows. Vee communicates with him, but we're trying to keep this from the general public."

"What do you think, Fen? Should we tell Ivar?" The scrawny, clean-shaven guard asked.

Fen sneered and told his partner to close his mouth before angling his torso toward Zed. "We'll keep an eye out, petite fleur."

Zed nodded and continued on her way, but there were few more spots Axel could hide unless someone had intercepted him and invited him into their hovel. She thought of Nalani, who often wandered the courtyard at odd hours and Trinity, who adored Axel and might jump at the opportunity to lead him to a private alcove. The two of them shared living space in Athena. Zed wanted to keep the search party light, and asking around would only spread curiosity like wildfire.

She continued touring the courtyard, her naked soles sore from hurried walking. Finally, she stopped at the greenhouse gate, its series of coiling iron bars and metal flowers welded to the columns in intricate clusters. Zed lifted the latch and pushed the gate open, taking care to shut it quietly. The greenhouse where the citizens grew aloe and berries was the little-known getaway spot Axel and Vee coveted as their private paradise. Zed zigzagged through the raised beds, taking care not to trip over the irrigation hoses and climbed the wooden steps at the back of the third square house. Around another corner and through the thick blackberry bushes nestled in rectangles of sodden earth, Zed rushed to the spot under the sky where the light poured in but found nothing.

"Shit," she whispered, out of breath and reeling in the thick, tepid air.

Zed looked up to the cloudless velveteen sky, crushing disappointment wringing her heart. In a throng of shadow off to the right, a figure shifted and startled the woman backward.

A tired voice called her name.

The shady form lengthened, struggling to stand. Once it stood at its full height, the vice pressing Zed's chest disappeared. Axel hobbled into view, using the overhead pipes to help himself along.

"Axel! There you are. Oh my God, you had me so worried. Why did you leave the lab?"

"The lab? Is that where you've been keeping me?"

Zed clapped her palm over her mouth. Axel gave an elongated nod, eyes wide and accusatory.

"Is that what I am? Some kind of experiment?"

"No, Axel—"

"What are you and Vee doing? Tell me why he's keeping me locked up. Tell me where the fuck I am, Lea. Please. This place... Something about it seems wrong. It scares me."

Axel wilted against a plant bed as Zed approached and caught his elbow to keep him upright.

"Axel, don't be scared. Please, I promise you're safe. We're not trying to keep you captive. This is all difficult to explain, and you were asleep for so long parts of your memory are missing. Vee's only trying to make it easier for you to cope."

"Cope with what, Lea? Cope with the fact I'm a prisoner? That I can't sleep because my nightmares are so vivid, I feel like I'm dying? That people watch me like some sideshow freak?"

"Everything," Zed sighed. "The new world. How can we explain all this to someone who woke up in the past?"

Axel looked up through the skylights and whimpered. "Something terrible has happened, hasn't it?"

Zed, wounded from the dejection in her friend's voice, led Axel to sit on the floor, then sat next to him and draped her arms over his shoulders, resting her cheek on the thin cotton shoulder strap of his tank top.

"I wish I could say you're wrong, but I can't lie to you, Axe."

"My instincts were right. Something is very wrong. After that Ivar fella came through, I started getting this feeling you all weren't telling me something on purpose."

"Don't be angry with us, Axel. We didn't know how to tell you."

Axel leaned his head on Zed's and sought her hand to hold. She slid her fingers through his and gripped tightly. "It's okay. I get it now. I'm supposed to be here. You and me... We're meant to be together. Otherwise... Why would I see you every time I close my eyes?"

"Axel," Zed whispered. "I missed you so much when you left. I thought I'd never see you again. Now everything is different."

"I'm sorry. If I hurt you back then... I didn't mean it."

"Just don't leave me again. Please. I can't fool myself into happiness without you in my life."

"I won't leave. I can't."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Lea."

"Promise-promise?"

Axel chuckled and kissed the top of Zed's head before laying his cheek on the ruts of her braids. "Yeah. I promise-promise."

~*~

Axel and Zed laid on the floorboards and watched the stars twinkling above while the chamber filled with water vapour, obscuring the glass until the condensation evaporated. When the infinite black sky lightened to meteorite violet, Axel used Zed as a crutch to stand up. He stole a fistful of blackberries, stuffing the fruits in his mouth and mashing them until inky juice seeped from the corners of his lips. He complained about his ankle, which he'd suffered walking on during his solo excursion to the greenhouses. Zed berated him for wandering off and helped him down the steps and through the rows of potato plants, arms locked, their pace slow to accommodate Axel's injury.

A murmur greeted the pair as they approached the iron gate. A dozen villagers gathered around the entrance to witness Axel emerge with smiles on their faces. Frozen from the elated faces beaming at him, Axel pulled on Zed's arm, alerting her to the hoard of onlookers.

"Who are they?" Axel asked.

"Zee! Happy you're awake!"

"What happened to your arm, Zee? Are you okay?"

"He looks terrible."

Zed opened the gate, and the crowd dented but didn't part. "Make room, please!"

"We want to talk to Zee!"

Axel then realized the group addressed him, their wide eyes drinking in his bruised and broken state with smiles unfitting his poor condition. An overwhelming sense of worry touched his skin, and he grabbed for Zed to lead him, but they huddled around the gate until a tall head of blond hair sliced the crowd in half. Vee shouldered past, his eyes hooded and brow furrowed.

"Axel! Lea! What the hell are you doing out here? Lea, did you let him out?"

Zed frowned and drew her shoulders up. "Of course not! I'm the one who came looking for him."

"Let's go. Come on, now. Everyone make way. Go back home!" Vee barked.

"We want answers! What's happening outside the walls?"

"We'll answer your questions later," Vee said disdainfully. "Lea, help me get him back."

The trio staggered to the lab, breathless from the trek over the bowing foothills. Vee waited until they were behind closed doors to deliver a speech about how irresponsible and defiant Axel was, how his behaviour might cause unwanted ripples where the scientist required placidity. Axel hoisted himself into bed and accepted his lecture, sullen and quiet, occasionally glancing at Zed, who also wrung her wrists.

"I told you not to leave the room, Axe. Why? Why can't you listen to me for once in your goddamn life?" Vee asked.

"You're not my mommy, Valter. I can do what I want, and frankly, I don't appreciate you keeping secrets from me!"

"What are you on about?"

"Oh, don't play dumb. You've lied to me this whole time! About where we are, what's happened to me. I think you know much more than you lead on."

Vee scoffed and looked to Zed for reassurance. The girl stood still with her shoulders hunched.

"Lea, help me out here."

"Well, Vee... Maybe it's time we tell him everything. There's no use hiding the truth anymore. He already knows something's wrong."

"Yeah!" Axel cried. "I'm done sitting around twiddling my thumbs. You have to tell me what's up. How did I get like this? What the fuck happened to me, and why can't I remember anything? I don't know how I got here or who all those people are out there."

"That's the thing, Axe... We don't know what happened to you. You left, and when you came back, you were unconscious and hurt. We don't leave this place, so I can't tell you anything more than that. I didn't know if you'd wake up and certainly didn't know you'd have amnesia when you did."

Axel turned to Zed for verification, and she nodded her head regretfully.

"It's true, Axel. I wish we could tell you more."

"Then at least tell me where I am. Start there," Axel demanded.

Vee and Zed stood speechless for a moment until she sighed deeply. "Vee, maybe we should give him the postcards and his journals."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're right, Lea. Go get the box. Tonight's gonna be a long one."

Zed hauled the box of postcards and dog-eared journals into the lab and hefted it onto the foot of Axel's bed. Vee unpinned the postcards from the corkboard and offered them to Axel with a pinched smile. Zed sat in her chair while Vee laid on the floor, a long arm slung over his eyes as Axel began to read aloud from his workbooks. The three of them listened to the stories Axel had penned years before while he was in the infantry as if none of them had heard the tales. From time to time, Axel stopped narrating and glided over the lines, taking in details he should have known, but couldn't place. During these silences, Zed and Vee would look up at him to assess his emotions, whether or not the words shifted the pieces into place or made any difference at all.

Axel took in a strained breath. "Ivar and I aren't talking. He wants to be the leader on this ship, and if things don't go his way, he turns into a giant douche-nozzle," he broke into giggling at his insult. "I haven't eaten in three days, and the water supply is low. We're down to a cup a day each. It's not enough, but it's gotten us through so far. One of the guys got sick, and they've taken him below deck. He throws up constantly even though there's nothing in his gut and howls all night in agony. I swear to God I'll shoot him in the head tomorrow if he doesn't let us sleep tonight. Someone needs to put him out of his misery."

Zed grimaced, and Vee stared at the ceiling with dry eyes, unflinching from the story.

"Day six... I now know what rat meat tastes like."

"Oh, god. Ew," Zed mumbled.

Axel continued without pause. "It's not that bad when you haven't eaten in almost a week. I've set up more traps in the galley to catch the rest. If Ivar plays his cards right, I might share my rats with him, but he's still a stuck-up twat.

I'm not sure how the rats are surviving. Maybe there's food still hidden somewhere on the ship. Maybe they're eating each other."

"This must have been when you were on your way back to America...Or... Whatever you want to call this half of the world now," Vee said.

"What do you mean?" Asked Axel.

"The Unity... The government... They abolished the borders, erased the country names and burned the history books. The states became part of the North-Western Hemisphere. Same with Canada and all that. No countries. No names."

Axel seemed to accept his brother's explanation that nothing would ever be as before. The commune in which he now resided was the only tangible place left in existence. Outside the walls lay sites changed from war, stripped of home and heritage. A tightness in Axel's neck prevented him from speaking until the revelations grew too heavy for him to bear.

"What happened to everyone else?" Axel asked.

"It's hard to say," Vee whispered, then cleared his throat. "A lot of people died."

"How many?"

"Billions," Zed said.

"You mean... We're the only ones left?"

"No, we're not. There are other survivors out there, people who were meant to live through the storms."

"Storms?"

Vee sighed, the farfetched nature of their fates exhausting him before he began. "The Unity developed a way to return the planet back to its natural state. No more electronic communication, no more broadcasts or satellites or TV. After the extinctions reached an all-time high, they introduced these plants that could suck the pollution from the air quickly. They grow extremely fast and are lethal to anyone who wasn't vaccinated against the spores. One plant can release a spore cloud big enough to cover half a football field, and they breed and multiply like vermin. Even a small cluster can kill a stadium of unimmunized people in a few minutes."

"But why would they do this? Have I been vaccinated?"

Axel's questions ripped holes in Vee’s composure. Zed's stomach churned and flipped as the scientist fished for the least aggressive explanation. A gloss came over his eyes, and he avoided his brother's bewildered stare.

"No, Axe. You're not."

"Oh... Are you?" Axel whispered.

"Yeah, I am. So is Lea."

"Why? Why didn't I get vaccinated?"

"You were lost at sea with your platoon for weeks, and before that, you were overseas. They didn't immunize the troops."

"Are you telling me the government wants us all to die?"

"Most of this is widely debated. There are some theories that the Unity had a strategy in mind."

Zed lent the scientist a hand and cut the heavy topic with a smile. "Axel, you're much more special than you know. Those people out there all adore you because of what you've done for Kinderfeld. You were the only one brave enough to go out when they needed supplies. People know your name not only here but out in the world. I've seen you fight and shoot. You're a natural."

"Well, yeah. I've been shooting guns since I was a kid."

"You were a special ops sniper. More than just a good shot."

Axel warmed to the compliment. "And what about you? Are you the mercenary of my dreams?"

Zed blushed and failed to hide her pride. "Not a mercenary... But I've murked a few Scavs in my day."

"Man... I like you," Axel tittered. "Ain't she great, Vee? What a prize."

For the few seconds of silence that passed, Vee's expression darkened. He recognized the reverence pulling Axel's features, the heartfelt way Lea relaxed when they spoke. Even in the absence of memory, Axel and Zed forged a bond too strong to pry apart. He would never wish ill upon his brother, but he mourned the days past with the woman whose eyes shone like vats of golden syrup passing under the morning light. At the risk of sharing a likeness with Ivar, the king who could never quite capture the woman's love, Vee thought of what life might have been like had Axel never returned. Would Zed love him? Could she? Had he ever toed the waters of her unspoken affection? Vee cursed his stupidity the night he told her how he felt and quickly dismantled his chances before she had the opportunity to consider him more than a close friend.

As Zed stared at Axel upright in his bed with his journals splayed out around him, Vee knew it was too late to rescind his platonic claim. A victim of his own sabotage, the scientist turned from them and pushed out every last ounce of breath to make room for another stale intake.

"I think it's time I showed Axel the Crimson Yawn."

Zed nodded and left the brothers, sensing a gloomy air rising between them. Vee was much better at explaining the inexplicable. He delivered news with a needed bluntness, one Zed had never mastered. Once she left the lab searching for distractions, Vee helped his brother box up the journals and offered his elbow to guide Axel back on his feet. Amid the bleak news, Axel had almost forgotten the pain in his extremities.

They waddled to the locked chambers where the bulk of Vee's scientific discoveries came to light. Axel squinted against the bright white walls and polished floor as he followed his brother through a series of doors leading to a clear dome similar to the greenhouses he'd found, only this hollow contained a twisted swarm of redheaded plants, mouths bloody and agape. Each one stood over seven feet tall and lifted its black-spotted maw to the sky in a silent scream. Axel turned from them.

"I've seen these before, but never this many. In my dreams, there's always one growing in a container."

"You recognize them?"

"And you say these things can kill me? How is it possible?" Axel asked.

"They're a sophisticated hybrid plant. They release spores like mushrooms, and those spores become airborne. If you breathe them in, they attack your blood, soaking up the nutrients and essentially turning it into a highly acidic jelly. You burn from the inside out. Well...Dissolve is a better word."

"And you've brought me here why!?" Axel shouted, dodging backward and planting too much weight on his bad ankle.

"Don't worry! They can't hurt you from in here. The filtration system's design protects everything inside."

"I still have a hard time believing all this. You know how crazy it sounds, right?"

Vee clapped his brother on the shoulder. "Oh, I realize. Why do you think it took me so long to break the news? You try finding a delicate way to explain this to someone who just came out of a coma."

Axel became transfixed on the plants again after Vee's assurance. He shuffled to the glass and studied the roaring heads, each one slightly different than its neighbour. They resembled demons, bizarre red monsters with thick necks and broad leaves of wax. Their spiked roots toiled in the ground, gnarled and tangled in a hellish orgy above and beneath the soil. Beyond the ranks, Axel saw the roiling jungle and all its hues of green and black. The sun broke through parts in the towering trees. How he longed to feel the wind on his burnt skin and walk among the flora. Axel observed the plants for a few minutes as Vee stepped back and allowed him time to digest.

"Am I in a nightmare?" Axel met his brother's eyes and did not blink.

"Some might say that. And I'm sorry. I've dedicated my life to making things better for the survivors, but there's nothing left I can do. All we have now is the village and each other."

"And mom and dad?"

"They're gone, Axe. They've been gone a while."

The tattooed man swallowed bitterly and nodded as a wall of tears blinded him. Vee touched his brother's shoulder and shared his pain through the comforting gesture. Axel crossed his chest with his good hand and patted Vee's fingers.

"Do you mind if I spend some time alone? This is... It's just a lot."

"Of course. Take all the time you need, Axe. I'll leave the doors unlocked. You good to walk?"

Axel's voice floated below a whisper. "I’ll manage."

~*~

In the apartment, Zed held her arms out before her and swung them in half-circles, stretching her muscles in preparation for another stiff night spent on the sofa. Vee came in after dinner and found Zed flinging her limbs outward.

"Nightly aerobics?" He asked with a touch of humour, the most he could muster after a day of harsh truths.

"Just stretching out before bed. My back's been killing me."

"Oh," Vee's green eyes popped open wide. "Don't sleep on the couch, Lea. You can take the bed tonight."

"Nah, it's okay."

"No, really. I insist. You deserve a night without hanging off the edge of the cushions."

"Then where will you sleep?" She asked.

"The couch."

Zed laughed at the idea. "You're far too tall to fit comfortably."

"I've passed out there dozens of times. Don't worry about me, really. Take the bed."

"Why're you being so nice, huh?" Zed snorted.

"I've seen you in pain the last few days, and I feel bad. It's rude of me to have one of the biggest beds in this place when I don't do anything to deserve it."

"Oh, shush," Zed jested. "You've done more for this place than anyone."

"There's always the Chrysalis."

The good humour in the room vanished with Vee's maladroit suggestion. Zed shook her head and scoffed. "I'm not going to the Chrysalis. I want to stay here with you guys."

"Fine by me. You'll take the bed tonight then. Grab your blankets and go."

Zed and Vee swapped bedding and wished each other goodnight. Though she deemed herself undeserving of the luxury, when Zed crawled onto Vee's large bed and spread her limbs from corner to corner, her skin bristled with goosebumps. The scent of the sheets belonged to the man outside the room, sprawled on the sofa, long legs dangling over the arm—cotton and boyish musk, the redolence Zed had grown accustomed to except in this moment. Lying on the mattress reminded her of the hugs and closeness she'd received from Vee when Axel had fled.

She relived their days together in clips of happy memories and some not so joyful. Across the apartment, Vee recalled the same night playing in Zed's mind—their evening in the greenhouse when they'd held hands, so close together yet barred by the promises of friendship. Vee cursed himself repeatedly while Zed entertained the idea of getting together with the scientist.

Soon, Zed's thoughts slid over the night she'd spent with Ivar. If she concentrated, she could feel the fullness between her legs still. Ivar had made love to her the way couples did in films. He'd stroked her and kissed her skin, took her nipples gently between his lips and sucked until she giggled. What might have excited some left her shivering. Was one of the brothers more deserving of her love? Was she foolish to think herself so desirable her attention was a coveted badge of excellence?

What a prize!

Lea... I want you to tell me no, right now.

It's like you were made for me.

With her heart racing, Zed turned over in bed and clamped her eyes shut. Debating which of the three men in her life she wanted more made her stomach flip, yet she couldn't keep the lewd considerations from pouring into her head. In these fantasies, she replaced Ivar with Vee. Yes, he was smart and gentle and keen on her, but he'd told her not to let him cross the line, claimed he didn't want her that way despite his feelings. Vee's kind face took the place of Ivar's, coasting down her stomach, stamping her thighs with kisses from luscious lips. She squeezed her legs together and let the inevitable shift knock Vee from the picture to make room for his older brother.

The tattooed man with all his addictions and his looming depression positioned himself between her knees and grasped her ankles delicately. A murderer and womanizer leaned over her body, caging her with long limbs decorated with sparrows, weapons, chains and barbed wire.

We're meant to be together. I see you in my dreams every time I fall asleep.

Zed bit her lip when the phantom sensation invaded her. She knew not how Axel would moan or if he'd coo and sigh the way Ivar had when they had sex. She wanted very much to think Axel would treat her with respect and scorned the claims Trinity had made about his wild side. Then the obscene journal entries came to life, glowing, fanned by salacious visions. What if she didn't want to make love? What if she wanted to be taken hard and fast by a man who worshiped her? Guilt and arousal mixed in her chest and sat heavy, grinning evilly like a demon poised to possess her body.

Sleep wriggled through Zed's conjurations and pulled her under before she realized she was slipping into blackness. The cozy bed and Vee's sheets lulled her, and soon, she dreamed of ordinary things, forgetting her personal stash of pornographic thoughts. She slipped further as the moon made a lazy arc through the night sky until something touched her shoulder and jarred her from sleep with a sharp gasp.

Her scream ripped through the apartment, sending her waker toppling out of bed.

"Lea? Oh, fuck. Fuck!"

"Axel?"

In the dimness, neither of them saw each other but tasted each other's heavy breath. Soon the light snapped on, and Vee stood at the door, chest heaving.

"What the hell is going on?" Vee asked. "Axel? What're you doing?"

"Christ, I thought Zed was you. I just came to... Well, I couldn't sleep," Axel cringed. "Shit, my hand. Fuck, I landed like a sack of bricks."

Vee snickered, setting off a series of giggles. "You came to sleep in my bed?"

"I didn't mean to scare you, Lea."

"It's all right," said Zed. "Really. On any other night, it would have been Vee in here."

Axel pulled himself up by the elbows and sat on the edge of the bed, grimacing from the agony of his agitated wounds. "Sorry, guys. It's hard to sleep out there. People are watching me."

Zed scooted over and patted the part of the mattress warm from her body. "Come on. Lie down. I think we could all use a sleepover after the day we've had."

"You're not serious," Vee said with a scoff as his brother took up Zed's offer and laid down next to her.

Zed nodded with conviction. "Absolutely. You too, Valter. Turn off the light and get over here."

He rolled his eyes as he flipped the light switch. "This is hardly a three-person bed."

"Well, cuddle up, pal."

"Lea takes up a fraction of the bed, anyway," Axel pointed out.

"Is this not weird to you? Three adults sharing a bed?"

Zed moved to the center as Vee climbed into bed from the left. To her right, Axel had already sprawled and turned over to face her in the dark.

"It's no stranger than how half the people in this place sleep all piled on top of each other. Humans were meant to nest. In the wild, this is how we'd sleep."

"Yeah, but we're not in the wild," said Vee.

"Yes, we are, little brother. Have you seen it outside? We're literally in glass bubbles, in the middle of a rainforest. Now shut up, and go to sleep."

"You shut up."

"Guys?" Zed chimed.

"Yeah?" The brothers answered.

"I love you both.”

Robbed of their voices, Axel and Vee set aside their bickering to bask in the genial haze of Zed's words. Axel shifted an inch closer while Vee laid stiffly on his side, eyes wide in the dark. As though her claim was bathed in wine, they soaked in the meaning and slipped drunkenly into slumber.

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[helaintoloki]

First Date

pairing: Diego Hargreeves x reader

warnings: extreme amount of fluff, nervous Diego, etc.

notes: this piece is for a writing trade I’m doing with @lovcfools !

summary: the story of your first date with Diego

Diego could hardly remember the last time he’d been this nervous let alone the last time he’d been on a real date. He still could hardly believe the fact that you’d actually accepted his offer to go out for a “bite to eat” as he’d put it, yet here he was at your front doorstep with his best shirt on and a decent bouquet of flowers (a first date must have according to Allison).

Diego’s breath catches in his throat the minute you open the door and by god do you look stunning. He gulps nervously and feels his palms begin to perspire, heart beat picking up rapidly when you flash that award winning smile of yours.

“H-Hi,” he greets, cursing himself for the stutter and hoping he’ll be able to keep it at bay throughout the evening.

“Hi Diego,” you grin. Your eyes notice the bouquet of flowers in his hand and twinkle with excitement. “Are those for me?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I uh, I wasn’t sure what kind you liked so I got a little of everything,” he explains with a nervous laugh as he awkwardly thrusts the bouquet upon you.

“That’s so sweet of you,” you compliment, hugging the flowers close to your chest. “I didn’t really peg you as the flowers type of guy, if I’m being honest.”

“I guess I’m full of surprises,” he jokes, his confidence beginning to return to him now that he’s found his rhythm with you. You always have a way of throwing him off, making him slip up, and it’s not on purpose of course. You’re not even aware of the affect you have on him, but Diego always turns to putty whenever you’re around.

Once you’re ready he offers you his arm and walks you to his car, being sure to open and close your door for you as well. He resented his father for many things, but he had to give Reginald credit for the etiquete lessons they’d all had to participate in as kids. He figures he’ll take you a nearby diner; it’s quiet and simple, just the two of you with no distractions, and you can’t go wrong with fries and a burger for dinner. You listen to an old Kiss song on the way, stealing glances from each other and repeatedly getting caught in the process. But it’s fun and every time he shoots a wink at you you giggle, something that’s music to his ears.

Much like Griddy’s the diner is warm and inviting but pretty empty during the night, but neither of you seem to mind as you sit down and look through your menus. He expects you to order a salad (because that’s what most girls eat on date’s, right) and is pleasantly surprised when you instead order a cheeseburger with extra bacon and cheese fries, which you offer to share with him, of course.

“So what do you do for work?” You ponder curiously while playing with the paper wrapping of your straw.

“Oh, you know,” he shrugs offhandedly, “odd jobs around the city. You?”

“Kindergarten teacher,” you reply with a smile. “I’ve been teaching for five years now.”

“So you must be good with kids then?”

“I think you have to be if you want to be a teacher. Others may not share my sentiment but I want the kids to have a place to feel safe, even if it’s just for a few hours a day. Who knows what they have to deal with outside of school?”

Diego smile faintly at that, his mind wandering as he fiddles with his butter knife. Your kind hearted tenderness reminds him a lot of his mother, and he wishes he could have met you sooner. Your presence definitely would have helped during his childhood years. He wonders what your reaction would be if you actually knew what he did during his “odd jobs,” if you actually knew who he was, what he could do, and what he’d done. A nice little school teacher on the arm of a vigilante was a funny picture in his head, and he could already hear his siblings giving him shit for his choice in women. But you were different than what he was used to, a good different, sweet and normal and sane. It was a change but a good one, and he really hoped this whole thing could work out.

Despite how full you both are from gorging on dinner food, you decide to split a bowl of ice cream. Diego lets you pick the flavor, and though he isn’t particularly fond of your choice he says nothing as you smile and talk about your upcoming trip to visit some family. He pays the bill despite how much you protest but agrees to let you be the one to leave a tip, and though you’re reluctant it’s starting to get late so you have no choice but to start heading back home. He takes the longer route this time so you can have more time together, and you’re delighted when he uses his free hand to hold your own as he drives.

Diego makes you feel safe in a way no one else ever has. He’s warm, he’s strong, he’s very handsome, and despite only having been on one real date with him you know that he’d do anything to protect you. Perhaps it’s too soon to tell, but you feel like you could fall in love with him if you wanted to, and you do.

“Do you go on dates often?” You ask, and though you try to remain neutral your obvious prying tone has Diego quietly chuckling in the driver’s seat.

“Nah. I usually don’t even get this far in.”

“So what was different about tonight?”

“I really like you,” he replies earnestly, and you’re grateful for the fact that his eyes are on the road and not casted upon your blushing cheeks.

When you return home he opens your door for you once again and walks you all the way up to the front steps until you’re face to face, waiting with baited breath to see who will make the next move first.

“So...”

“I had a nice time tonight,” you smile gently.

“Does that mean I can take you out again sometime?” Diego asks with a hopeful glimmer in his eyes.

“I think it would be wrong not,” you reply with a cheeky grin. “Will you call me when you get home so I know you got there safely?”

“I will.”

“Okay. Goodnight Diego.”

“Goodnight y/n.”

Neither of you turns to leave, instead choosing to linger there on your front doorstep. Your eyes dart from his intense gaze down to his lips, and a small breath escapes you as his warm hand comes to gently cup the back of your neck. He’s pulling you in closer, guiding you to meet him halfway until your mouths are meshing together in a sweet kiss. He isn’t abrasive or rough, but his lips do glide across your own skillfully and his tongue darts out for a mere moment to lick at your bottom lip. It’s sweet and it’s romantic and it has you wanting more the minute he pulls away. He smiles at you then, thumb rubbing carefully along your warm skin, and he leans in to give you one more firm kiss.

“I’ll call you,” he promises again.

“You better,” you murmur with a small smile.

Diego slips away from you to get back into his car and already you find yourself missing the warmth and comfort his presence brings you. He gives you a wave as he slips into the front seat and doesn’t drive off until he sees that you’ve made it inside alright and are tucked in safe for the night.

With the windows down and the radio playing some old song he doesn’t remember the name of, Diego realizes he’s found himself in quite the predicament. His head needs to be focused on his work, he can’t afford any distractions, but there seems to be one tiny problem: he’s falling in love with you.