#but at some party he and linda would hook up and it would tear them apart

[thecedarchronicle]

i think an over the top "gritty" riverdale esque retelling of star stable would..

well it wouldn't fix me. but it would enrich and entertain me immensely

[abbatoirablaze]

Princess & Bunny, Chapter 4

Word Count:  1.6k

Warnings:  angst.

“Princess…” Princess broke down when she saw her sister, nearly collapsing into her arms.  Bunny, who had been reading a book dropped it without a thought, and cradled her sister against her bosom, “wha-what’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry,” she whimpered, crying against her chest, “you were right about all of it.  We should have never come here.  I-I shouldn’t have pushed Linda so hard to let us be here.  We shouldn’t have come here!”

Bunny went to smooth her sister’s hair, but retracted when her hand came away wet.  Her jaw nearly dropped as she looked at the blood on her hand.  Her eyes went wide, and she tugged her sister’s hair, exposing her neck, “Princess…y-you didn’t.  Tell me that you didn’t!”

“I-I wasn’t the only one!” she whimpered, ignoring her sister’s words, “He’s a horrible alpha…and he’s been with so many omegas.  I’m so sorry I didn’t listen, Bunny.  I-“

“I’m going to kill him!” Bunny growled, moving away from her twin. 

Princesses eyes went wide, and she realized what was about to happen.  She jumped between her sister and the door, “NO!  Y-You can’t do that.”

“Watch me!”

“I-I bit him first!” Princess admitted, getting into her sister’s path so that she couldn’t leave the room, “I-I didn’t realize it until it was too late!  It wasn’t his fault.”

Bunny’s jaw tightened, “pack your bag…I’m taking you to the hospital!”

Her eyes widened, “Wh-what?  No. Why would you-“

“It’s still fresh!” Bunny pointed out, “which means I can take you to the ER and we’ll say that you were-“

“I wasn’t!” she countered, cutting her sister off, “d-don’t you dare say he raped me…we made love.  Jus like-“

“Don’t you fucking say another word!” Bunny spat, glaring at her sister, “What happened nearly three years ago wasn’t the same…”

“I-I’m going to shower…to wash everything away before we go!” Princess proclaimed, “I-I don’t want them swabbing for DNA and finding him…”

Bunny’s breath caught in her throat, “Don’t tell me you didn’t…. protect yourself…”

“Funny how you seem to care now…” Princess countered, feeling angry at her sister.

The younger twin growled at her sister and crossed her arms, “you have twenty minutes…by then the Uber should be here…”

“I’ll be ready…”

Bunny’s heart ached as she stood outside the room.  A few tears slipped down her cheek as she heard the anguished cries of her sister.

“And you don’t know who it was?”

“I told you all that I know,” Bunny spat once again to the man who was questioning her while the other nurse gave her sister a rape kit, “she came home and broke down…we-we don’t even go to the college…we were staying with our stepbrother and his frat brothers.  They were having a party and Princess stepped out for some air.  She was-”

“So, she was partying?”

“No!” she growled, glaring at the man, “Weren’t you paying attention?  Our stepbrother told us to stay upstairs in the guest room.   He-he didn’t want anything happening to us.  We’re just seniors in high school.  She didn’t like that he just locked us away, so-”

“If you’re hiding anything-“

“You guys did a blood test on her.  You even said she was sober, so stop trying to disprove that!” Bunny spat angrily as she continued on, “my sister was taken advantage of…she-“

“Where is your stepbrother?”

“Probably still at the party,” she lied, shrugging her shoulders, “I-I found her outside.  Like I told you…”

“But you didn’t rush straight here!”

“Princess was bleeding and-“

“Destroying evidence.”

Bunny growled. 

“Easy omega.”

“Fuck off, beta!” she hissed, “Princess was a virgin.  She wouldn’t just go hook up with some guy and mark him willingly.  We don’t even know anyone around here aside from our stepbrother.  This is a direct violation of our rights.  You’re shaming an omega who was taken advantage of and marked against her will.”

“Your sister is going to be fine…” Bunny jumped, the tears that had long since stained her cheeks making her feel even more vulnerable.  The female nurse gave her a sympathetic look as the doctor and technician passed by with the equipment.  She placed her hand on Bunny’s shoulder, “she’s strong…and you did the right thing in bringing her in…sealing off a fresh mating mark is a lot easier than one that’s been there for a while.  That one couldn’t have been very old.  It was definitely made tonight…”

“Just like I told the guy who interviewed me…” she began, trailing off when the woman gave her a look, “she was taken advantage of.”

“That was a consensual mark,” the woman pointed out simply, knowing that Bunny was lying to her, “she was facing him…there’s no tearing at all, which means she allowed it to happen, enjoyed it even…”

“He-he could have alpha commanded her…”

“But you weren’t there…” she replied, “you don’t know exactly what had happened.  You only said that you found her afterwards.”

“I know my sister…”

“Regardless…she won’t be stuck to that alpha,” the woman answered softly.  She took a step away from her and towards the door, “she’s resting right now, but you’re allowed to go into the room again…”

“C-can I stay with her…until you discharge her?”

“Of course, sweetheart…she’s going to need someone to get over him.  It’ll be good for her to know that she’s got someone in her corner.”

“Yeah…”

Nothing helped. 

Ransom had wanted to feel numb, but all he felt was guilt.  Guilt and anger over what had happened less than an hour and a half ago.

“Take me back to the frat house, Ransom.”

The word felt like a dagger twisting deep in his belly.  There was something so foreign about her calling him by the name that everyone else did.  And he was reminded of the day when her twin told him that she wouldn’t call him Hughie anymore either.

“I-I’m still your Hughie, Cece…”

“No, you’re not,” she spat, “you’re not my alpha.  You’re not even my Hughie…now take me back, Ransom.”

“Prince-“

She ripped her arm away from him, shooting him a powerful glare and an even more powerful hiss, “don’t you dare fucking touch me, Ransom.  Ever again!”

“We have to ta-“

“We don’t have to do anything!” she answered cutting him off, “if you won’t show me the way back to the house, I’ll find it myself.”

“So, you’re like really cute…”

Ransom found his stomach turning as the sorority girl attempted to seduce him.  She had her head cocked to the side, and it was obvious from the look in her eyes that she was imagining herself riding his spine, but all he could think about was her.

How sad his little omega looked.

The betrayal written across her features. 

“Not interested,” he huffed, making a quick exit out of the situation, “Sorry.”

“Drysdale, what the hell was that?”

Ransom barely looked at Johnny, instead, blowing off his brother.  The women’s scents were turning sour the longer they were in Ransom’s presence. 

“Sorry about him, ladies,” he heard Johnny offer, the fellow frat brother already trying to swoop in for the kill, “Drysdale can BE A DICK!”

“Fuck you, Storm!” Ransom cursed over his shoulder.

He went into the kitchen and grabbed himself a new beer from the fridge.  He felt a pang in the pit of his stomach and his eyes flickered above him, to the ceiling. 

‘She’s just upstairs…go apologize.’

A wave of blinding pain tore through him. 

Ransom slammed the bottle on the counter and gripped it with nearly all of his strength.  He partially shifted, his claws starting to come out of his hand.  They dug into the fake granite of the countertops. 

It was like someone had taken a hot poker and stabbed him in the abdomen.  The pain traveled all the way up his torso before settling on his neck. 

A chill ran down his spine and he raced out of the kitchen, past the partygoers, and up the stairs.  Taking them nearly three at a time, he was up to the third floor in no time.  It felt like a ghost town with the exception of his chapter president arguing with his girlfriend behind a closed door. 

He raced towards the spare room and nearly slammed it open. 

It was empty. 

His heart raced. 

The girls’ stuff was still there.  A book was haphazardly left on the bed.  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. 

There were no messages from Bunny, Princess, or even his mom.  He shot off a quick message to Bunny.  There were a series of little dots in the screen before his phone dinged.

‘check the desk, asshole’

Ransom ran to the desk in the corner of the room.  His heart ached, seeing that it was a note from Bunny. 

‘Dear Ransom,’ he read, eyes already tearing up, ‘if you’re reading this then chances are you felt the disconnect of the bond.  I used my money to take her to the ER, so don’t worry, Linda won’t know.  We all know how she reacts anytime you are involved in anything.  And needless to say, that while we are eighteen, if anything were to happen, you’d never see us again.  We both remember how the last incident played out…but the thing is, even that last time didn’t happen the way you think it did.  Last time, you ruined my life…and this time you ruined Princesses.  It’s time now, that you finally learn what you really did, you selfish prick…and here’s why.’

Ransom stopped at the next paragraph.  He dropped the paper; its light weight making it flutter to the floor with a softness that made the whole situation feel surreal.  Ransom’s throat went dry as he looked at the paper, as though he was watching it to see if the words on the page would change. 

Praying that they by some miracle would. 

It was me, all along.

Chapter 5

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @prokey16

[wiypt-writes]

Barking Up The Wrong Tree

 Ransom Drysdale One Shot

Summary: It’s the Annual Pre-Easter meal at the Thrombey’s and Ransom and you are in attendance. As usual, there’s fireworks, a lot of swearing and there’s only one way you know he can get rid of his frustrations…

 Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s!

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N:  So this was originally written last year for @jennmurawski13​ who requested a smutty one shot with an Evans character of my choice for her birthday. It was coined from a Brainstorming sesh me and @icanfeelastormbrewing​ had for our intended Ransom x OFC series (we might get round to it in 2022…so by then you’ll have forgotten if we use it again.) FYI Eighteen year old Ransom is totally Bryce from Fierce People, you can’t convince me otherwise… I also very much now see this being the same Reader as in mine, @ohthankevans13​ and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​’s  Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale series.

Your brown leather, knee high Saint Laurent boots (a gift from the man whose lap you were curled up on) were on the floor by your feet leaving you in your grey, woollen over-knee socks. One of your boyfriend’s large hands was resting on your left shin, the other just at the top of your right thigh, almost on your ass cheek. You were well aware your black sweater dress was riding up so went to shift and shimmy it down a little, conscious that you were, after all, sat in the large drawing room at his grandfather’s house whilst the rest of his family milled around as the pre-Easter dinner, which always took place the weekend before the actual holiday, was being prepared.

“You okay?” Ransom looked up at you, noticing you shift on his lap and you smiled.

“Yeah, just don’t want to flash everyone too much if you get my drift.”

Ransom cocked an eyebrow at you, then peeked around the room, before he gave a snort as his eyes fell on his cousin Jacob who was watching the pair of you.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want Adolf junior getting a boner now would we?”

You gave a chuckle as you re-arranged your dress, making yourself more comfortable.

“He’s just a kid, Ran.” You soothed.

“He’s a deviant, Princess.” He replied, his voice quiet.

“So were you when I first met you.” You grinned, looking at him as you bent closer to whisper into his ear “Still are when the mood takes you.”

Ransom pulled back to look at you, his face inches from yours, his eyebrow raising slightly as that dirty smirk spread across his handsome face. “Stop it.” He warned, and you shrugged innocently, as he placed a soft kiss on your mouth.

“Come on son, put her down.” Richard’s voice rang across the room and instantly you felt Ransom’s entire demeanour change. Gone was the relaxed, jokey, happy Ran you knew and loved and in his place was Hugh Ransom Drysdale, asshole extraordinaire.

“Piss off, Father.” He shot back, his head moving back from yours, fixing his dad with a steely glare.

“Hey.” Richard glowered “Don’t speak to me like that…” he turned to Linda. “Did you hear that Linda?”

“Ransom…” Linda said lazily, not looking up from her phone. “Don’t speak to your father like that.”

Ransom rolled his eyes and you gently looked at him, shaking your head, silently telling him to stay calm. It was always the same with the Thrombey family gatherings. Ransom despised them for the simple fact that Harlan was the only one he had any time for, bar his mother on a good day, and you were inclined to feel the same way. It always ended in chaos, each individual nuclear sects within the extended family trying to get one up on the other, prove they were the best players in the game.

Frankly, they made the fucking Lannisters look normal.  

All your friends were constantly asking you how you managed to stay tangled in this web of dysfunction, but the answer was right in front of you, his crystal blue eyes now narrowed as he shot a sarcastic reply back to his mother.

The simple truth was, you loved him and couldn’t walk away if you tried.

It hadn’t always been that way, mind. When your High School had been asked to submit nominations for the coveted position of Harlan Thrombey’s Summer research assistant, you’d been short listed along with 15 other candidates from the New England area. Each of you were asked to produce a five-thousand word thesis on a literary subject of your choice to be submitted for reading by Harlan. You’d been ecstatic when you received the call from his Publishing Company to say you’d made the final three and were requested to attend an interview.

You’d been and bought a new suit. Nothing fancy but decent enough quality. You made sure your hair was tamed, your make up was as on point as you could get it, and had driven the thirty minutes or so out to his mansion from the home you shared with your Nanna in Brookline, following the directions on your GPS to the area near Pierce Park where the Thrombey Mansion was located. You were greeted by his housekeeper and shown into the large office where the man himself was waiting. Harlan was nothing like you had expected him to be. He was eccentric, sure, but also dmaned good fun. He’d asked you a few questions about why you wanted the position “I’m going to major in English at college and I hope to work in publishing when I graduate, this would be an invaluable experience.” He had then discussed your paper with you and after a few more general questions he had reduced you almost to tears of laughter by telling you a about an incident when he had been at college and was almost caught climbing down the trellis of his girlfriend’s parent’s house following a late night rendezvous of the very naughty kind “Don’t think too badly of me, we ended up married for forty-seven years…”

Then, just as he was showing you out of his study a tall, well-built young man, your age you had correctly guessed, with a strong jaw, dark hair flicked to the left side of his forehead, and a pair of the bluest eyes you had ever seen, waltzed down the hallway. He was dressed in a pair of riding breeches, a polo shirt and wore a long pair of tan leather riding boots.

"Ransom?” Harlan looked at the young man “I wasn’t expecting you till this afternoon.”

“Yeah well, the fucking horse I should have been riding is lame.” Ransom shrugged “Which means I can’t ride, and I probably can’t compete this weekend.”

“Dressage?” you had asked, your mouth speaking well before your brain had engaged, for some reason thinking it was a good idea to comment. Ransom had looked at you with disdain, scanned you up and down and cocked his head to one side, his eyes cold as they locked onto yours.

“Polo.” He had answered, a sneer on his face “Do I look like a dressage rider to you? Mind you, from the state of your cheap high-street dress the nearest you’ve probably ever been to a horse is those shitty little trail rides they run at kids parties.”

“Ransom!” Harlan had snapped sternly “Enough!”

You felt the heat rise in your neck and cheeks, and you drew yourself up to your full height, folding your arms as you looked at the ass hole stood in front of you. One thing your Nanna had told you was that, despite your humble origins, you were as worthy as the next person, no matter how much money, status or self-importance they may have.

“My apologies. I always thought polo was played by arrogant, snobby, stuck up pricks.” You retorted as you made a show of looking him up and down in the same way he had done to you. “Actually, on second thoughts, I should have guessed.”

As soon as the words were out of your mind you let out an internal groan. Way to go, flush your chance of landing this summer internship down the fucking toilet by insulting Harlan’s grandson. Nevertheless, you held the gaze of the man in front of you who stared back, his expression and face utterly stoic bar the blink of surprise his eyes made.

You heard Harlan chuckle behind you and the old man dropped a hand to your shoulder. “Fran, could you see Miss Y/L/N to the door.”

Two days later Harlan had personally called you to offer you the position, and it had turned out to be everything you ever wanted, and more. Three weeks into your internship, to your utter surprise, Harlan confessed that he had been looking to fund a worthy, local candidate through college and as the successful applicant it was yours for the taking. Some strings had been pulled, and in the last week of September thanks to his generosity you started your English Major at Harvard.

And so did Ransom.

He pursued you with a dogged determination, seemingly viewing your indifference towards him and his advances as some kind of challenge. You weren’t fooling yourself, however. He was devastatingly handsome and your traitorous vagina and that part of your brain that controlled your libido harboured a deep desire to fuck his brains out, a desire you finally gave into at the end of your first year when, following your final exam, you got drunk and woke up the morning after in his bed.

It wasn’t all puppies and roses though. You were on and off more than his boxer shorts, as simply put, Ransom was a player. And it didn’t bother you to start with. He was a hook up, a way to relieve tension when you needed to, and he was a very handy person to know with his seemingly endless network of connections. But by the time you graduated you knew you were head over heels for him, and needed to break this seeming cycle of being in and out of his bed.  So you turned down Harlan’s offer of a job at Blood Like Wine and were ready to move away from Boston after landing a job at a publishers in Manhattan…but then your nanna had been taken seriously ill and suffered a stroke meaning you had to stay.

As a result of her illness, your nanna was unable to live in your house in Brookline alone and so you were forced to sell it so she could afford to move into a supervised Retirement Village a five minute or so drive away. You were now jobless, drowning with the house-sale which would leave you homeless, and your emotions and been all over the place. You had no other family since your Grandfather had died at the start of your senior year so had no one to turn to.

Enter Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

You’d called him one evening, drunk and emotional and needing a release and he came over alright, but instead of fucking you into the mattress he made sure you drank water, ate something, and then got you into bed. The next morning, Harlan had shown up, telling you the job offer at his company was still open, and then to your utter surprise and initial horror he had offered to buy your nanna’s house, meaning you could remain there as a tenant. At first you had refused, insisting you weren’t a charity case but Harlan had simply waved your concerns away by insisting it was an investment. After a little discussion he agreed to allow you to pay rent which, all things considered, was a pittance in comparison to what other properties the same size in that area commanded but it was a rent nonetheless and made you feel better.

And you knew all of it had ben Ransom’s idea.

This was the side to Ransom he very rarely displayed to anyone. A softer side, a caring side, a gentle side. A side that held you as you cried at the thought that your nanna was growing old and may soon leave you behind, a side that made you a sandwich when you hadn’t eaten in days, a side that helped you pack up and move your Nana’s stuff to her new home, a side that turned up at 9pm with several tubs of ice cream and a bottle of wine after you’d messaged him earlier that afternoon to tell him what a shit day you were having when his Uncle Walt was being a dick at work.

The rest, they say is history. History which meant you were now curled up in his lap some eight or so years post that initial meeting in the hallway of this very house, listening to him bicker with his family, feeling his leg beginning to shake in that way it always did when he was agitated.

“Ran…” you said gently, squeezing his arm and you felt him take a deep breath and he looked at you, his mouth closing as you shook your head “Don’t.”

He turned away, looking to the other side of the room and his face glowered as he spotted Jacob once more had his eyes trained on your bare thigh. God the pubescent creep did his fucking head in, and if he stayed here he was going to end up putting the lanky streak of shit through the wall.

“Can we go?” Ransom looked at you, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“We’ve not even had dinner yet.”

“Please.”

That single word was enough to make you understand. It was a word he hadn’t learned until he’d met you, when he realised that his demands and arrogance got him nowhere with you. He still rarely used it mind, but when he did, you knew he was in desperate need of what he’d asked for.

“How about we take a walk?” You suggested “If you still wanna go after then we will”

He took a deep breath as he considered what you had said. Compromise was another word that hadn’t been in his vocabulary until you. His eyes locked onto yours and you looked at him, encouragingly and he took a deep breath, nodding.

“Okay.”

You uncurled yourself from his lap and stood up, him following so you could sit down and place you boots on.

“Are you leaving?” Linda asked, looking up for the first time.

“For a walk.” Ransom said simply, grabbing your hand and pretty much dragging you from the room. He didn’t say a word as he reached the coat stand and retrieved your lightweight Ted Baker belted mac, holding it out for you to slip your arms into, in a display of chivalry he reserved only for you. Once you’d done it up, he took your hand in his and you headed through the kitchen and outside into the reasonably mild April afternoon.

“Don’t let them get to you.” You said softly, leaning into him a little and he sighed, untangling his fingers from yours so he could drop his arm round your shoulders. He hated the fact his family could make him feel like this, like he wasn’t in control, like he was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. He could quite happily go without seeing any of them, well, bar maybe his grandfather, but you had told him he would regret it if he pushed them away completely because you had always wished you’d had a large family unit like that. So, despite the fact he knew deep down that was a load of bullshit, he played the game. He attended the damned gatherings more for your benefit than any as you adored Harlan and seemed to get on fairly well with Joni, Meg and his mother. He hung onto a glimmer of hope that maybe one day it would all change and he’d feel part of it.

But it never did. And he never did.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence across the Mansion grounds, round the lake where Ransom stopped by the small pier, looking out over the water.

“You know my most vivid childhood memories are of this spot.” He mused, his gaze focussed over the lake “Grammy used to bring me down here to feed the ducks.”

“It’s beautiful down here.” You agreed, snuggling further under his arm. “Peaceful.”

“Yeah unlike that fucking house.”

You gave a chuckle, as his hand curled over your shoulder, absentmindedly rubbing over the smooth material of your coat. He was agitated, you could tell, and there were very few ways in which he could calm down when he was like this. One was riding his beloved BB- a polo horse Harlan had bought him for his 21st, one was the pair of you curling up on the sofa with snacks and a good scotch or bourbon, getting drunk and watching Trashy Films, in particular horrors-you both loved to pick plot holes and insult the main characters, declaring the victim a dumb bitch for running up the stairs and not out of the door and the other, well…

You glanced around, checking you were alone before you pulled away from him, taking his hand and tugging on it slightly.

“What?” he asked looking down.

“Come on.” You gave his hand another pull.

“Y/N?” he questioned again, but followed nonetheless despite you not answering. You tugged him away from the lake, into the thin thicket of trees a little further round. You could still see the house here but you knew there was no way anyone from up there could see you.

“Seriously, Y/N what the fuck?” he groaned, as he stepped in the slightly squelchy mud “You’re gonna ruin my Gucci’s…” “Should have worn something a little more substantial then shouldn’t you?”

“I didn’t know you were planning on going fucking hiking in the fucking woods.”

“That’s not what we’re doing.” You said, stopping in front of a large oak tree, looking up at him.

“Then what are we doing? Reconnecting with Mother Nature? Or are we on the hunt for Oberon, Titania and Puck?”

“Ooh, good Shakespeare reference.” You grinned at him and he rolled his eyes as you slid your hand up over his navy blue lightweight Barbour jacket which was done up to his sternum, leaving his plain white, Armani t-shirt slightly visible at the neckline. “Does that make us Lysander and Hermia?”

“You got a hidden suitor called Demetrius I don’t know about?” he arched an eyebrow, his hands falling to your hips.

“Nope, I’m all yours Tiger.”

The sound of your ridiculous nickname for him drew a large smile across his face and he shook his head, giving a genuine chuckle. Here, with you there were no annoying voices to listen to, no family politics, nothing to care about but the gentle brush of the wind as it blew through the canopy of trees above your heads and the faint sounds of birds as they went about their business and Ransom felt a sense of comfort. Because you were his rock. The one person that saw through his bull shit, the woman in his life that knew all his horrible personality traits as well as his slightly less horrible ones and loved him all the same. The girl that had rounded off his harsher edges no matter how much he protested to the contrary.

You were his better half for sure.

“Well that’s good, because I don’t like sharing.” Ransom smirked, dipping his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

“Don’t I know it.” You mused against his mouth. His fingers flexed on your sides, pulling you closer to him as he slid his tongue across your bottom lip. You opened your mouth slightly, allowing him control over the kiss, knowing that’s what he craved when he was like this. His lips were soft on yours, tongue domineering as he kissed you deeply, slowly. Eventually he pulled back, his nose bumping yours slightly as he gave a little chuckle.

“I know you’re trying to distract me from those shit heads in the house.” He said, his tone playful and you loved playful Ransom. Another side to him only you really got to see.

“Is it working?” You played along.

“Yeah.” He nodded, his lips pressing to yours again.

“Good. Now why don’t you let your inner deviant come out to play?”

“You don’t need to ask me twice, Princess.” The words were barely out of his mouth before he had pressed you into the harsh, earthy bark of the tree behind you, kissing you hard again, groaning as you palmed his crotch through his designer denims. He grabbed your wrist, pinning it above your head before he did the same with the other one, easily holding both in place above you with one large hand, his other softly tracing up the outside of your thigh, fingers skating under your skirt.

“Is this why you wore this?” he smirked, toying with the material slightly. “So you could tempt me away for a fuck in the woods?”

It wasn’t, it was because it looked and felt good, but you decided to play along “Maybe. Was it a good choice?”

“Damned right it was…” he growled against your mouth, his long, soft fingers sliding your lace panties to the side. His index finger traced a path up your slit and you gasped at the feeling as he gently began to toy with you. Soft, teasing touches, his eyes never once leaving yours. That was one of his things, he liked to see your face, watch as your expressions changed as he undid you, fuelling his ego. Your hips gently started to move in time to his strokes as he played you, like an instrument from which he could always draw a tune. And in no time at all, he was listening to the music as you let out a soft keen, a purr almost as your head fell back against the tree, your mouth parting slightly.

“Like that?” he asked, and it was all you could do to nod, panting brokenly as the familiar feeing began to rise in the pit of your stomach, the fire growing hotter and hotter. “God you’re a fucking minx. Come on, cum on my fingers, you know you want to.” And you did, hard, your knees trembling, as you let out a loud cry of his name as the lights exploded in front of your eyes. Ransom pressed into you, his erection evident as it dug into your stomach, keeping you pinned between him and the tree as he coaxed you through your orgasm, before he moved his hands, allowing yours to drop to his shoulders as you held onto him tightly.

The clanging of a belt buckle, then the zipping of trousers and the rustling of fabric broke through the post-orgasm haze as Ransom undid his flies, reaching into pull out his painfully hard cock. He gently pushed forward, sliding the tip against your folds, gathering your slick as you gave a moan, the feeling of him sliding against your clit sent lances of red, hot desire through your veins.

His hands gripped the back of your thighs as he pulled you off the ground and you hooked them round his slim waist, ankles locking at the base of his spine. In a swift, fluid moment, no teasing, no gentle ease, he buried himself inside you with a deep thrust making you cry out as he filled you. His lips crashed onto yours as he drew back, then thrust back in hard, his cock dragging against your walls inside, hitting that spot that he knew would leave you seeing stars.

Yes, if there was one thing on this Earth Ransom knew he was good at, it was fucking you.

His lips traced a path from your mouth to your jawline, then to your neck, biting and sucking at any bit he could get to, his hips moving back and forth in a slow but deep pace which was torture, and you needed more.

“Ran, harder…” You groaned, digging your heels into his ass and he gave a dirty moan of his own as his hands held your hips.

“You’re such a needy little slut.” He smirked against your lips, not waiting for your reply as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping back and forth with a vigour that was merciless as he pistoned in and out of you again and again. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly as you kissed him, teeth clashing together as your back repeatedly brushed against the harsh, rough surface behind you as you clawed desperately at the material of his jacket.

It wasn’t long before you felt another orgasm brewing and your head fell forward, teeth nipping at his ear drawing a growl from his throat. Your hands moved into his hair and you pulled sharply back causing him to hiss and look up you.

“Fuck, Y/N….” he groaned, the pupils of his eyes blown wide with a desire you would never tire of seeing. You pushed your hips down against him causing him to drive deeper and you let out an almost primal cry, the noise you made simply revving him up even more, his rapid movements growing even more urgent.

“Fuck Ran…” you moaned as your head rolled back against the tree, hands back on his shoulders, as once more that snake in your belly moved. Ransom felt the tell-tale flutter of your heat tightening round him and he continued his voracious pace, his eyes locked onto yours.

“You feel so fucking good…” he panted “So fuckin’ good Princess...”

His words made you moan again, and he pushed up once more, stilling slightly, grinding up against you as opposed to thrusting and a few rolls of his hips later you were done. The world faded around you as you came hard, with a loud scream before your head dropped to his shoulder, as you moaned his name, again and again whilst he pounded through your orgasm chasing his own.

“Shit, Y/N…I’m…fuck…” his words tumbled into your hair as his movements became desperate and he came a short while later with a loud yell. You felt him fill you up, as his hips stilled and he groaned, face buried into your neck, his chest heaving, sweat beaded both his brow and yours as he simply pressed into you, panting and shaking.

Neither of you had any idea how long you stayed like that, but eventually Ransom managed to gain enough control to pull his softening cock out of you and set you gently on your feet as he brushed the tendrils of your hair that had fallen over your face back with a tenderness he reserved only for you. He said nothing, simply looked at you, his lips gently greeting yours in a soft, loving kiss, a stark contrast to the violent ones you had shared moments before. You smiled at him, unadulterated love in your eyes as you moved your hands to brush his hair back before you leaned up and kissed him again, your nose sliding against his.

“I adore you Hugh Ransom Drysdale. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Don’t fucking call me Hugh.” He grumbled and you chuckled as he pulled you to him, nuzzling into your hair as he sighed. “But for the record, the feeling is mutual Y/F/N, Y/M/N, Y/L/N.”

You gave a laugh and were about to reply when you felt his head snap up, and his entire body tense and he let out an angry cry causing you to jump.

“Jesus Fucking Christ! The perverted little shit!”

“Ran?” You saw his face contorted in anger as he pushed back from you, striding away from the tree, rearranging his jeans as he went before he broke into a sprint. You watched him go and then, to your horror, saw the retreating back of a smaller male running away from the thicket of trees on the curve of the bank to your left and you felt yourself grow cold.

Jacob.

How long he had been there Ransom had no idea but he chased the little fucker all the way to the house, yelling insults and threats as he burst into the kitchen. Ransom finally caught up with him just as he ran into the hall and grabbed the kid by the collar, spinning him round and pinning him to the wall, arm crossed over his windpipe. “Enjoy the show did we?!” He yelled, the noise drawing the rest of the family out from the sitting room into the tiled hallway. Walt started to shout angry threats about what he was going to do to Ransom if he didn’t take his hands off his son, which then sparked Richard to bite back at Walt saying if he touched Ransom he’d give him a damned good hiding. If Ransom hadn’t been so focussed on the dirt little bastard he had pinned to the wall he would have laughed because the idea of his dad fighting anyone was hilarious, he couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag.

“Give me your phone.” Ransom demanded.

“I didn’t…” “GIVE ME YOUR PHONE NOW YOU PERVERTED PRICK!” Ransom yelled, and reached into Jacob’s pocket, grabbing his hand where it was curled around the offending item, bending the boy’s fingers back. Jacob gave a yell, pulled his hand out of his trouser pocket and Ransom seized the phone, yanking it out, just as you walked into the hallway.

He looked at you, then to Jacob and saw you pale as the realisation washed over you that you’d not only been seen but recorded or snapped, by a twelve year old boy nonetheless.

“Unlock it.” Ransom demanded, thrusting it back at him.

“Now listen here…” Walt started until Harlan turned to him.

“Walt, shut up.” He barked, turning to Jacob “Unlock the phone, now Jake.”

Jacob sullenly took the phone from Ransom and did has he was told, Ransom snatching it back. He glanced down at the screen, flicking to the Gallery and let out an angry noise as he saw not only footage of you both in the woods but ten or so photos of your bare thigh and close ups where he had attempted to see up your skirt when you had been on his knee before. Thankfully from the snaps there wasn’t really anything visible, but still the fact he had even taken them in the first place made Ransom apoplectic with rage.

“You dirty little prick.” he mumbled, looking back up at him. Jacob visibly recoiled under Ransom’s glare.

“Ran?” You questioned as you gently touched his arm and he tilted the phone so you could see the screen and your eyes widened, your entire body growing warm as you saw the close up of your thigh on the screen.

“How the fuck dare you?” You exploded, glaring at Jacob.

“Can you explain what he has supposedly done?” Donna, Jacob’s mother spoke for the first time and you turned to face her, your pretty features contorted in rage.

“He’s…” You shook your head “Taken photos of me, before up my skirt.”

Noise erupted in the hallway, Joni and Meg screaming about you being violated, Richard and Linda yelling at Walt and Donna whilst Harlan shook his head, making a noise of disgust. Ransom ignored them all as he selected the photos and images, deleting them, and showing it to you.

“Gone, Princess.” He turned the screen off before he leaned over and kissed your temple.

“Look, he’s a teenage boy…” Donna was protesting “He’s a bit curious…”

“He’s a dirty bastard.” Richard snorted and the irony wasn’t lost on Ransom as he’d seen his father eyeing you up on more than one occasion. He looked at his dad, eyebrow raised as Jacob bit back at the dig.

“I’m a dirty bastard?” The pre-teen snapped, his eyes flicking from Richard to Ransom “I’m not the one that was having sex against a tree!”

Everyone paused and their heads turned to you and Ransom. You gave a groan, your hands sliding up to your face to hide your utter embarrassment, but besides you Ransom’s expression never changed because, well frankly, he couldn’t give two shits about everyone knowing what you had been up to.

“I’m a grown ass man.” He snarled “If I wanna fuck my girl outside on private property I will”

He held Jacob’s phone out to him, but as Jacob went to take it Ransom opened his hand, dropped it to the floor with a loud “oops” and stomped on it, the metal and glass crunching under the heel of his expensive, leather boots.

There was more yelling, and Ransom simply turned, taking your hand in his. “We’re leaving.”

This time you didn’t argue. The pair of you walked away, ignoring the screaming which grew fainter as you headed down towards the large front doors, only to hear Harlan calling after you. Ransom stopped, took a deep breath and tuned to face his grandfather.

“Y/N are you ok?”

“Of course she’s not.” Ransom snapped but you gently squeezed his hand, shaking his head.

“I’m okay Harlan, thank you. But I think its best we go before Ransom commits murder.”

“Well, I can assure you I’m not far off killing the little turd myself.” Harlan shook his head, sighing. He then took a deep breath, looked at Ransom, and there was a flash of something which you knew only too well to be amusement in his eyes. “Which tree?”

Ransom frowned “What?”

“I asked which tree you two were doing the naughty against.”

You groaned as Ransom blinked and then shrugged “Just in the thicket to the south side of the lake, near the little jetty. Why?”

“Well, instead of barking up the wrong tree so to speak, next time stick to the North side.” Harlan grinned cheekily “It’s in the dip and no chance you can be spotted by anyone unless they’re a foot or so away.”

Ransom’s mouth curled up into a smirk as he looked at his grandfather then to you.

Meanwhile you simply wanted the ground to open up and swallow you.

Harlan bid the two of you goodbye as you headed out to Ransom’s Beemer. He stopped just besides it, turning to you, his hands falling to your hips again. “Well, I don’t know about you, Sweetheart, but all that excitement has made me a bit hungry. Seeing as we’re not getting dinner here, how about I take you to Asta?”

Your face lit up at the mention of your favourite restaurant and you gave an eager nod before you frowned “Aren’t we a little underdressed? And it’s Saturday evening, we’ll never get in.”

“Baby girl, enough money can get us in anywhere, and you look fine.” He said, dropping a kiss to your lips before he grinned “You might wanna brush the twigs outta your hair though.”

[doctorofmagic]

My thoughts on Stephen and Carol

That was... unexpected, to say the least. Now I have this task to elaborate my feelings and opinions in a way that is paradoxically personal and rational at the same time.

Let’s begin.

Background

Carol and Stephen know each other for a very, very long time. Their first team-up happened in Marvel Team-Up v1 #76 (1978), when Silver Dagger captured Clea (again - and yes, I’ll talk about her later). Both Spider-Man and Ms. Marvel decided to offer a helping hand to Stephen.

Stephen also assisted Carol in a mystic issue, combining their powers in Ms. Marvel v2 #4-5 (2006). It’s from this very run I suspect Kelly Thompson pictured the idea of a relationship between them. Nothing official, but all it takes to assume there’s something else going on is a mere look.

It’s true they were on opposite sides post Civil War, but Carol decided to join the New Avengers later on, which also gives this relationship one more layer.

Lastly, Aaron’s Avengers also featured them on the same team for a while, in addition to the previous Captain Marvel v10 #6-7, in which they swapped bodies and Carol had a taste of Stephen’s pain. We’re also considering Captain Marvel v10 #19 because, at this point, it’s clear that Thompson had plans for them since 2019.

Captain Marvel #27

Since this a blog dedicated to Stephen, it’s hard for me not to look through his perspective. I know the story is about Carol and how she’s struggling to mourn. But you’re all here for him. So this is my very detailed yet not-so-reliable review about their moment together.

....

Stephen is so sweet, wtf.

First, he confesses that he lost a patient on the table, WHICH MEANS that Thompson is following the events of Surgeon Supreme. Honestly? It’s the first comic book to do so. But fine. I can live with that.

Man is not having a good day. In fact, it’s a terrible day, which probably justifies the end. Here we another glimpse that Stephen still can’t deal with loss. Life is so important to him precisely because he has lost so much. In addition, for a moment, he forgets that Carol isn’t supposed to be drinking. So he turns the whiskey into Seltzer. In the meantime, Carol can’t help but relate to him. I know, Carol, I’VE BEEN THERE.

There’s another moment that warmed my heart (in a sense because it’s quite sad when you think about it). Stephen asked Carol if he was bothering her. Do you have any idea how insecure Stephen is? BECAUSE HE IS. He’s always afraid of bothering people and that’s why he isolates himself. That’s why he’s always pushing people away. That’s why he’s so miserable and lonely.

Stephen is the sweetest, I can’t. He doesn’t even know his own favorite color. COME ON, STEPHEN.

I admit, though. They know how to flirt. Stephen is the kind of person who flirts through self-loathing, which is only natural given his mental health. And Carol... Well, she’s a girlboss. It’s perfect. Also he’s sassy. And do I love my sassy boi? Very much.

But here’s another sad thing. Stephen is not seen as a “good addiction”. He’s simply not the worse one. And he’s aware of that. Do you know how I know? I mean, despite all the countless articles I wrote about his self-loathing?

Because of this:

Yet again Stephen is aware that he used someone else to fill his void. And yet again, he was used. I can’t remember the last time Stephen had a healthy relationship. In fact, I can. It was with Linda, the Night Nurse. And that was a loooong time ago. I can’t even begin to comprehend how lonely he feels. And how miserable he feels whenever he fails to create a solid bond. Not only romantic ones, but also platonic relationships and friendships as well. I want him to be happy, it’s not too much. So why am I on the verge of tears?

Fine. I dissected the issue panel by panel, such is my commitment. But how I truly feel about them? Before answering that...

Things to be considered

Hear me out. There’s a very famous forbidden OTP party in Secret Wars: Secret Love #1. I can’t remember the author of the post but here, on this very hellsite, they confirmed some of those OTPs were ships that Marvel would never allow to happen because they’re, well, LGBTQIA ships. Cherik? Yes. Stony? Yes. Kate Bishop and America Chavez? Yes. CarolJess? YES. It’s the closest we’ll ever get to Marvel’s main characters to be queer.

I’m quite open to shipping Stephen with any character. However, I cannot look away when I’ve always rooted for Carol to be an LGBTQIA character. So, much to my surprise, as I was checking the spoilers on the hopes that Jess and Carol would finally have a revelation... STEPHEN HAPPENED. Trust me, Carol stans, this was as much unexpected to me as it was to you.

Truth be told, as a Stephen stan, I get tons of hate, because people mostly know him for his Illuminati era and how patronizing he behaves sometimes. But this is the reason why I made this blog. I want more people to know Stephen as deeply as I do. I know it’s frustrating. But I’m not the enemy. You have no idea how hard I try to find subtle words and clues that Stephen is not straight (because he isn’t, please).

So, after all is said and done... I still think they’re cute. And please, do not hand me down a guilty verdict yet.

I think of Stephen a lot on a daily basis, so it’s only natural to headcanon which heroes he has hooked up with throughout the years. And I swear to Vishanti, Carol crossed my mind a few times. I only figured it would never happen. But it did and now I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. But it’s okay. Because it’s not going to last - and I’ll explain why.

The future

Despite the fact that CarolJess should be a thing™, when it comes to canon, she’s deeply connected to Rhodes. Their relationship is so important to Carol that she sacrificed it out of love. She’s mourning. There’s this feeling of emptiness in her heart, pretty much similar to what Stephen experienced when Clea left him the first time.

They’ve met in a very delicate and frail state of mind and spirit. Some (most?) people do it, as an attempt to fill the void with anything or anyone that resembles affection. They’re aware of that.

That’s why I don’t think it will last. It’s not a relationship born through mutual growth, it’s a relationship born in mourning and sorrow.

You know me, mates. I’d do anything for Stephen’s happiness. But that’s not it. His happiness lies on a powerful sorceress from the Dark Dimension. You know her name. And Carol? Well, if not on Jess because Marvel desires to keep selling comic books to homophobes, then on Rhodes.

It feels just like my hook up list headcanon, only better because there’s angst. And boi, do I love angst?

That said... We have more issues coming, in addition to that beautiful cover for #29. Let’s wait and see. I do think Carol and Stephen share an angsty a beautiful background and that’s why I’d rather have them instead of Elektra. No offense, Elektra and Stephen are HOT. But I believe Carol and Stephen offer deeper layers. And this is why I made such a long post about them and didn’t do the same to Savage Avengers. No matter how hard I try to be rational, when it comes to Stephen, it’s just stronger than me.

PS: forgive me if I missed something, I’m truly exhausted but my mind wouldn’t allow me to rest until I made this post. Thank you for your support.

[writeroutoftime]

birthday

pairing: john shelby x reader

summary: it’s you birthday and when the love of your life and your family forget your birthday, you aren’t sure how to react 

warnings: none 

words: 1745

a/n: I wrote this story for @smallheathgangsters​, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEAH!! Thank you for being the wonderful person you are, I truly hope that you had an amazing birthday and that this year brings so many wonderful things your way. I’m so glad to call you a friend, and I hope you enjoy this story - even if it is kinda cheesy!! Best wishes!! 💛

oOoOo

As the morning sun rose across the streets of Birmingham, small peaks of light filtered through your bedroom curtains and dosed you in the morning sunrise. With a yawn and a full body stretch, you reached across the sheets and your eyes shot up at the lack of another body wrapped around yours. Normally, John had at least an arm thrown over your waist, but that morning you only found sheets cool to the touch.  

Moments later you curled back into your blankets and tried to let sleep wash over you once more, no longer confused. Every year on your birthday, without fail, John managed to slip out of bed before you woke up and recruited your children to make you breakfast in bed. While it usually ended with John shooing your child outside while he cleaned up the egg and flour streaked kitchen to prepare something edible, the thought always warmed your heart. 

Though, of course, your children would still find some way to cause mischief before the day had truly began. One year, Katie presented you with a bouquet of wildflowers they had found, and you had struggled to contain your giggles at the sight of the rest of your children’s face and clothes smeared with dirt.

However, when you heard no banging of pots or pans, early morning quarrels between Will and George, and no hushed whispers and giggles as your family attempted to sneak up the stairs to surprise you, worry began to flow through your veins. Quickly, you wrapped your robe around yourself before you padded into the kitchen to find your family.  The only one you could find was John, you sat calmly at the kitchen table, a cup of juice in his hand as he concentrated on the paper spread out in front of him.

“Morning, love.” John greeted coolly when he heard you walk in, not even sparing you a quick glance.

“Morning.” you responded look around, slightly dazed by the sight before you. “Where are the kids?”

John’s voice kept the same, nonchalant, tone as he turned the page of the paper. “Oh, Polly’s watching ‘em today. “

A glimmer of hope bubbled in your chest at your husband’s words. Maybe this had been John’s plan all along – a day alone just for the two of you. It was something you hadn’t the luxury to enjoy in quite a while, and you were well overdue for some quality time with your husband.  “So, any plans for today?” you asked slyly as you walked towards John, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and placing a kiss behind his ear.

“Not really. ‘Less you count Tommy dragging my ass in to work today.” he said with a slight chuckle.

Had he really forgotten? you thought to yourself as you pulled your arms back to wrap around yourself and watched John go about his morning like any other day. The thought made your heart clench, but you decided against speaking up. John had never forgotten your birthday in all the years you had known him, and while that made the fact that he had this year sting a little more, you also decided he was it must have slipped his mind because of how hard Tommy had been working him recently. Besides, it wasn’t like you wouldn’t have other birthdays, perhaps you simply overreacted.  

“Well, I’m off, love.” John told you, offering you a quick peck on the lips before he adjusted his cap and was out the door without another word.  

You were left, stunned, and staring wistfully at the door. With heavy feet you dragged yourself upstairs to prepare for the day, taking the time to bathe and pamper yourself in the way that your life hadn’t allowed you to over the past few weeks. You decided that even if John wasn’t going to spend the day with you, there had to be other’s that remembered, and the day would be celebrated in style.

As the morning wore on, you rung Ada up to see if she would be open to a nice afternoon out to have a birthday lunch and do a little bit of shopping. That hope was quickly crushed when Ada picked up and immediately told you she was late for a shift as the two of you spoke. Polly was just as evasive on the phone, claiming she was taking the kids out and rushed you off the line without wishing you a happy birthday. You didn’t even bother to call the office because you knew if Tommy had called John in, then Arthur and Finn wouldn’t be far behind.

Dejected, you slumped onto the couch with an exasperated sigh and pulled out a book to fill the time, but once you realized you had read the same sentence over and over, you shut the book and decided to walk through the meadow that surrounded your house. When the sun began to set, you made your way back to the still empty house and ran the last stretch of land when you heard the phone’s shrill ring.

“Hello?” you asked, desperate for contact with another person.

“y/n?” Tommy confirmed through the receiver. “You need to come down to the Garrison.” he commanded – no ‘how are you’ no ‘happy fucking birthday,’ just him barking orders, as always.

“Why?” you pressed, the anger finally beginning to boil inside of you.

There was a sigh from Tommy’s end before he responded. “Because John-Boy’s drunk off his ass and needs someone to bring him home.”

“Fine.” you spat and harshly slammed the phone back on its hook.  

The entire walk to the Garrison, you rehearsed the lecture you had for John and any other Shelby member unfortunate enough to cross paths with you. While you first thought you could excuse John’s forgetfulness, knowing that he had abandoned you to get drunk, you couldn’t keep quiet any longer. Upon reaching the Garrison, however, you noticed the noise that normally flowed from the doors and windows was absent.

Slightly concerned, and with hesitant steps, you made your way to the entrance, cursing yourself for not bringing the small gun John had gifted you so many birthdays ago. Ready to attack at a moment’s notice, you headed into the pub to be meet with a pitch-black room, until -  

“SURPRISE!” you heard from every corner of the pub as the lights were switched on to reveal the Garrison overly decorated with streamers, balloons, and confetti all around.  

Front and center of the crowd stood John with a huge smile on his face, surrounded by all of your children who ran up to hug you. The rest of the Shelby clan stood off to the side clapping and cheering up a storm – even serious, stoic Tommy had a smile on his face as he held Charlie in his arms.

There was a chorus of “Happy Birthday, y/n” as you were led you to a table off to the side with your birthday cake, a handful of presents, and what looked to be handmade cards. You smiled at each and every one of the cards that your children made you and they gave you hugs before Linda ushered them together to take them home for the evening.

It only took a few seconds after that before a drink found its way into your hands as you went around to hug Ada, Polly Arthur, Tommy, and even Finn. They all expressed their sorrow for having to act like they had forgotten the birthday of one of the most important people in their lives, but you assured them this was well worth the suspense. As you tried to converse with some of the other guests at your party, a pair of hands suddenly covered your eyes, resulting in a yelp to pass by your lips.  

“Happy birthday, angel.” John whispered into your ear, and you spun around to face him with a smile on your face.

“You remembered!” you exclaimed and wrapped your arms around John and burying your head in his chest.

The look that crossed his face was slightly guilty. “I’m sorry, I didn’t enjoy acting like that to you, I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, consider me surprised.” you said and kissed him to let him know that you weren’t mad in the slightest and that it was truly one of the sweetest things someone had done for you in a while.

John pulled away from the kiss after only a few seconds but dragged you off to the private room of the Garrison and told you to sit down. With your head tilted, you watched John as he pulled out a wrapped present from his pocket and handed it to you before he sat down as well.

Eagerly, you tore into the wrapping paper and threw it to the floor before you gasped at what was inside. Inside the small box sat a beautiful, diamond ring that sparkled from all angles, complete with two, smaller peridot stones set on either side of the main diamond. Tears sprung to your eyes as John knelt down in front of you and gentle took the ring out of the box.

“I know we’ve been together for so long, but I did promise you a ring you truly deserved when I was able to buy it.” he reminisced and looked up at you sheepishly.

The memory made you smile and cry a bit more out of happiness. All those years ago when you had found out you were expecting Katie and John proposed, it was with the ring that currently sat on your finger. While you cherished the ring with your whole heart, John never felt it was worth of enough for you and vowed that when he had made a name for himself, he would give you another ring.

“It’s beautiful.” you whispered and allowed him to slip it onto your ring finger, your old ring moving to your right hand until you could find a chain for it.

John lovingly rubbed his thumb across your cheekbone and lifted your hand to brush his lips against your knuckles. “Thank you for being my beautiful, perfect angel. I love you.” he confessed, more than happy to be sappy and emotional in honor of your birthday.

“I love you too.” you told him and grabbed his face in your hands and kissed him once more, looking forward to the many other perfect birthdays you would spend together.  

[smol-and-grumpy]

Sky Full Of Stars - CH06

Sequel to Something Just Like This

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, ex mobster boss, still a little cocky, less ruthless and not at all short tempered anymore. Instead, he thinks he’s hilarious (she doesn’t agree, though). They both try to live a quiet life. And Dean hopes, very hard, that his former life won’t come knocking at their door.

Warnings: NSFW, fluff, and okay, maybe this one is a little more angsty because Dean needs someone to hit him over the head for not telling her the truth.

WC: 3445

SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s a month later that they’re invited to Sam’s birthday party and it’s actually the first outing with Ella. 

They’ve held an open house on one weekend where friends would drop by throughout the day to come see them. It was actually Dean’s idea and she agreed because it sounded better than scheduling visitations with all of the people who would want to meet their newborn girl. 

Even Linda dropped by and that woman was all over Ella, didn’t even want to let the little girl out of her sight and held on to her for the whole time she was here. Truffles followed them around either. Poor boy was afraid that Linda would take Ella home with her. 

Sam lives just outside the city, in a suburban big white house with white fences and landscaped garden. It looks picturesque and pretty. It’s a total contrast to their home. It’s more modern, fits more into the lifestyle Sam has. A lifestyle Dean left behind.

Dean carries Ella, of course he does, was the first out of the car and hurried to take Ella out of her car seat, fearing that she’d reach their child first. He grins cocky when he sees Y/N schlepping the diaper bag and a gift for Sam.

She rolls her eyes for the dramatic effect but she smirks, because it’s cute how proud he is. 

Jess sits with Y/N out on their porch while both of them are holding their babies and chat. It’s the second time that Ella meets her cousin Jack and Anna joins them later with Elijah. 

They talk and laugh, complaining too because Anna’s the closest in getting back into her old shape while Y/N still struggles with her flabby stomach the most. 

Dean doesn’t seem to mind her body change at all. Doesn’t seem to mind the excess skin, the stretch marks. Because every time she’s naked, she wants to hide from him, but he’d make her show him, looks at her like he always did, makes her feel like she’s his fucking world. Last time was this morning while Ella was still asleep when they took a bath together and he made sure to touch every inch of her. Brushed his hands across her stomach, let his fingertips trail along her stretch marks. He kissed her shoulder, the nape of her neck, she could feel him hard underneath her. 

They haven’t had sex yet since she gave birth. She wants to wait until she feels comfortable again and he was okay with it, never pressuring her into anything. They did all the other things which doesn’t involve him sticking his cock into her pussy. 

Dean has the patience of a saint and she really doesn’t know what he sees in her. She still has these doubts, can’t help it, even if she knows that she shouldn’t. 

The men are talking together, drinking beers, laughing. And she thinks it’s good. This life is definitely good. 

But then something shifts, she can see it in Dean’s eyes, can see it in the tense of his shoulder when he follows Sam inside. 

They didn’t stay away long, maybe five minutes, ten tops. When they return, Dean looks relaxed again and she’s not sure if he’s pretending like he always used to or if he’s genuinely smiling. Can’t really see if from this far. Sam excuses himself, goes to talk to other people and then she sees Gabriel joining Dean and Cas, sees them sticking their heads together, talking without moving their lips too much. 

Other people might not notice anything wrong or different, but she’s not other people. She’s trained to notice little details and she can’t lie. It’s worrying her.

 *

 Back home she nurses Ella and tells Dean that she needs a quiet moment to paint. Just like Dean uses pottery to find his center, she uses painting. She’s painting every day now, their garage is full with her paintings.

She spends about an hour in there and walks out after, takes a quick shower and slips into one of Dean’s shirts. They’re the most comfortable at the moment and he loves for her to wear them so there’s a win-win right there. She leaves the top four buttons open, it’s easier to get in and out for nursing either. 

It’s already late and she wants to lie down but decides to see what Dean’s up to. She walks down the stairs, but Dean’s not in the living room. She only finds Bubbles while Truffles is at his new favorite place, with that place being right in front of Ella’s room. 

Y/N sees light spilling out of Dean’s study where the door’s standing ajar. 

“Hey,” She pokes her head in, sees Dean sitting in his chair, a black manila folder with a couple of papers splayed on it. The baby monitor propped right where he can always see it. 

He notices her, looks up from the desk. He’s startled at first, but then his lips spread into a warm smile. She guesses that it’s the shirt she’s wearing that does all the trick. 

She walks in and he pushes his chair back, makes room for her to climb in on his lap and she sits on one of his thighs, hooks her arms around his neck and kisses his scruff. “Watchu doing in here?”

Her eyes trail along the desk, sees the papers, a lot of words are written on them. The sight of these little words alone makes her head spin.

Dean takes the stack and hands it to her, “Read it,”

She really doesn’t want to read anything right now but does it anyway of course because she’s too curious. 

Last Will & Testament 

“Dean, no,” She mumbles as soon as she reads the first line.

He noses at her temple while she reads it, kisses her cheek, “Dean, yes,”

She goes on to read more.

In case of my death or disappearance.

“Disappearance?” She asks, it seems like a weird clause to put in and then her jaw drops. She feels some kind of anger, pushes herself away from him, gets up and paces around the room while Dean only watches her, his expression hardens.

“Y/N,” He starts to say, his voice is deep, low. It’s steady and calm like he doesn’t want to raise his voice but putting his foot down. She hates when he does that. It makes her feel like she’s the unreasonable one in here when he’s the one who fucking drafts up a fucking will.

“Are you planning on disappearing? Is this what it is?” She spits out, it comes out more accusatory than she intends and she adds, a little softer, because she doesn’t want to fight because of that, “Are you going to leave us?”

“Jesus,” Dean groans, clasps a hand over his face, scratches at his scruff like he always does when he’s trying to say something so she would get him, “I could never,” He leans back in his chair, looks at her like he always does, like she’s the world, like the world is his to touch and he reaches out a hand for her to take, “But you know what I was. Who I was. You know what I did. People tend to disappear in my old line of work.”

She doesn’t take his hand, and paces around some more, for fucking good measure because she’s fuming mad. She lets out a frustrating sound that comes out of the depths of her throat, “What do you mean? Do you know something I don’t know? Is someone coming after you?”

“No!” Dean shouts, squints his eyes because it came out loud and they shouldn’t be loud if they don’t want to wake up Ella, “No, I’m just trying to cover all bases because you never know what could happen,” 

Y/N waves with the papers in her hands, exhales loudly and walks up and down. When she’s close enough to him, Dean grabs a hold of her, pulls her into him. He hugs her tight, and she knows that he’s not letting her go.

“Read it,” He’s voice is much gentler, his lips close to her ears as he whispers the words.

She sighs before she goes on with reading.

“You’re leaving everything to me?”

“Yeah,” He says and then he moves her, makes her straddle him, his hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair back behind her ear that got loose from the bun on her head, “I trust you to use it in Ella’s best interest.” 

Her eyes get teary. She doesn’t want that. Doesn’t want to even think about a life without him. 

“You’d have to sit down with me, though,” His voice is soft, calming. Rational even. Which means that he thought this through, “There’s a lot of paperwork that we have to do because we’re not married.”

She thinks about his words, lets them sink in before she speaks, “Would you want to? Still?” She asks, and adds, “Marry me, I mean,”

Dean lets out a chuckle, it vibrates underneath of her. “More than you know,” His fingers play with the buttons of her shirt, “But I don’t want to pressure you. I understand if you wouldn’t want to.” 

She swallows her tears down. 

“It drives me nuts to have fewer rights just because we’re not married,” Dean sighs, “If something happens to you, I don’t even get to be at your side all the time and vice versa. You don’t get to decide anything and it actually terrifies me that even though you only have me in your life, I still can’t be with you when worse comes to worst.”

His words hit her differently. She never thought about that. Never thought about what Dean has probably been thinking for weeks or months. And he’s right, she knows he is. It makes more sense now since they already have a child together. It’s in Ella’s best interest. She knows that, too. 

Y/N places the stack of paper blindly back on the desk and cradles his face, the scruff prickles on her palm. She leans her forehead on his, pecks his lips, their noses touch. 

“If you want it, then let’s do it,” She whispers, kisses him once more, harder, deeper and Dean breathes into the kiss.

“Baby, you don’t have to,”

“I know but I want to,” She smiles then, kisses him again to shut him up. 

She feels him grinning into the kiss, his hands holding her tighter, and they stroke down her back until he has her ass in the palm of his hand.

Their kiss grows heavier, like it always does. Everything builds up so quickly.

“Then we do it,” He laughs when he breaks from the kiss and she nods her head, kisses him again, can’t quite get enough of him. She sucks on his tongue, making him moan out.

She’s wet down there either, and she grinds down harder, searches for friction, is met by his hard cock. 

Dean helps her grind on him, guides her on him with his hands on her ass. 

“Fuck,” He breathes out, kisses her cheek, her jaw, nibbles at her throat, “Wanna fuck you so bad,”

“I want that too,” She says almost breathlessly and Dean kisses down her throat, stopping short to look up at her. 

“You sure?” He raises one eyebrow at her and she nods, smiles a reassuring smile.

“Fuck,” He curses again, and then his hands come down on her ass, spanks down and makes her yelp up with a laughter. 

Dean stands up with her still in his arms, “Hold on,” He says and she does, hooks her legs behind his waist and he leans down, picks up the baby monitor and clears his desk with one clean swipe before he lays her down on it and places the baby monitor back so they would know when Ella starts to cry. 

She frowns at him, because now everything’s on the floor.

“Always wanted to do that once in my life,” Dean laughs before he kisses her again, works his way down her throat, sucks at her pulse point, making her arch her back. He doesn’t lose time in unbuttoning her shirt, pulls at the seam and her breasts are free because she left so many buttons undone in the first place. 

Eagerly, he sucks at her nipple, probably tasting milk because she leaks it without meaning to. He kneads the one he’s not kissing, and she moans out at the sensation. She’s so fucking sensitive. 

While he still kisses her chest, his hands trail down, hooking his fingers around her panties and pulling them down. He abandons her chest shortly to take them off and she whines at the loss of contact. Dean kneels down right after, kissing and biting his way up her thighs. One thigh first and then the other, teasing her. 

“Dean,” She calls out, wanting him to stop teasing her. His teeth scraping along the inner of her thighs and she writhes.

“I got you,” Dean breathes hot air against her soaked pussy, and he takes his finger, threads it through her slick before he rubs at her clit.

It’s awfully silent and she comes up to her elbow, sees him staring at her pussy, as if it holds all the answers to his questions. It makes her blush to see him staring at her most private part like that, “Dean,”

“Christ, you’re so wet,” He whispers and then he realizes that she’s still waiting.

His eyes meet hers and he holds her gaze, sticks out his tongue and licks a broad stripe up from her pussy to her clit with his massive tongue. Dean pauses and swallows, “Jesus, can’t get enough of your taste.”

Dean begins to lick and suck at her clit and opening, breathes through his nose as he does it, the hot air hits her right and she arches her back, pushing her cunt against his face. 

Her hands fists in his hair, and Dean licks faster, sucks harder, her knuckles are turning white, blunt nails digging into his scalp. 

And he looks up at her, crinkles deep because he is smiling and humming. 

“Dean, I’m—”

She didn’t even finish her sentence, spasms around him, thighs pressing together, trapping his head and he lets her. Lets her grind against his face until she comes down from her high and releases her grip around his head.

Dean chuckles when he comes up again, kisses each of her thighs, sucks at each of her nipples in passing, leaving a wet trail from there to her mouth. He claims her lips, pushing his tongue into her, lets her suck her own taste from it.

She breaks the kiss, leaves her forehead on his, her hand brushes at his lips, his scruff. He’s soaked.

“I almost died down there,” Dean’s still a little out of breath, “Good thing I made a will, huh?”

She rolls her eyes at him and he grins, thrust his clothed cock against her wet cunt, making her laugh out loud. 

“Fuck,” His voice is deep, “Can I fuck you now? I can barely hold myself together.”

She smiles at him, nods her approval, “Please,”

Dean’s grin widens, pecks her lips once more and pushes himself up, and she watches him hurriedly losing his jeans, just enough so he can pull them up again should Ella require his attention. 

He jerks himself three times before taking a step closer to lean over her, the head of his cock rubs against her slick cunt. He coats it with her wetness, rubs it up and down and she squirms.

“I’m excited,” He smiles with that golden boy smile, showing his teeth before he pushes himself forward and sinks in, both of them groan out in unison. 

It has been so long for her to be filled so fully, “Shit,” She curses out and Dean stills when he bottoms out. 

“You okay?” Dean asks, kisses at the crease between her eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” She nods, “I— fuck, yeah, I’m okay. So full, but good, oh my god, I’ve missed this,”

“I know,” He starts to thrust, his hand taking one of her legs, lifts it and braces it on his shoulder. The angle changes and she’s moans, “You feel so fucking good, still so goddamn tight— fuck!”

“Harder, Dean! Please,” Because it is what it is. She’s missed it, missed how his wet balls slaps against her ass when he fucks her hard and she wants to feel just that.

He picks up his pace, fucking her harder likes she demands of him.

“God you’re so deep,” She closes her eyes and bites down on her bottom lip.

“Should I not go de— Jesus!” 

She wraps the one leg that’s not on his shoulder around him, pulls him closer, making him go even deeper and it hurts. It hurts so good. She loves the pain. Her hands go down her body, tweaks one of her nipples and the other hand goes further down to rub at her clit. 

“Dean, choke me,” Her voice is strained, already so fucking close again.

“You sure?” 

“Uh-huh,”

“Uh-huh?” His hand travels up her body, slaps down on her tits on his way up and then she feels it, feels his big hand clawing around her throat, “You’re close, ain’t you, baby? Fuck— I—, you’re squeezing me.” Dean puts pressure on her throat, squeezes down on it, “Come, baby. Come on my cock like you used to,”

Y/N feels her toe curl up, pins and needles traveling up her legs, settles at her center. Her eyes roll back into her head and she convulses, shaking all over when she comes. 

Dean pushes himself over the edge with her, too, releases his grip on her throat and leans down, buries his face into the crook of her neck, sucks at her throat when he releases himself into her with a grunt.

He leaves little kisses on her throat, her jaw, her chin, kisses her between chuckles, “You look so goddamn beautiful when you come,” He props himself up a little then, hovers above her, steals a kiss, and one more. “Shit, I haven’t asked if you take your pills again,”

“I don’t,” 

“Baby, no!” 

She can hear the panic in his voice and has to hide her smirk, “Why? You don’t want another baby?”

“I do, I want a whole bunch, and you know that,” Dean says, and adds, “but I also want your body to have time to breathe.” Dean frowns and she cranes her neck, kisses him in between his eyebrows where there’s a deep crease.

“Relax, Dean. We’re good. I was joking,” She can’t hold back her laugh anymore.

“You little minx,” Dean growls, kisses her nose and pretends to bite it off, “I almost had a heart attack, Jesus! You’re a fucking pain in my ass, you know that, right?”

She’s still laughing and he joins her, but their laughter stops abruptly when they hear the baby monitor coming to life. Ella grunts through the speaker. 

“Shhh,” Dean hushes and touches his nose to hers, “Maybe if we pretend we didn’t hear she’ll stop,”

She giggles at that and he nuzzles his nose along her cheeks. 

Ella’s not stopping though, grunts some more and then she cries softly. They can hear Truffles barking from upstairs.

“Ugh,” Dean sighs, pecks her forehead and pushes himself away from her, “I don’t think we need a baby monitor, Truffles does all the work,”

He slips his dick out of her, is half hard again, she can see, she doesn’t think he’s been soft at all, at least it didn’t feel like it inside of her. 

Dean helps her up, “I’ll go see what she needs and you take your time,” He pulls his jeans back up, doesn’t bother to zip up or anything. He picks up her panties from the floor, holds it out for her to take before he places his hand on the back of her neck, draws her in, “We’re really getting married?”

She smirks a little, because that’s so Dean. He asks because he wants for her to be sure. She nods, smiling, “We are.”

“Okay, then I’m going to see what our girl needs now, future Mrs. Winchester,” Dean smiles, bright and white and leaves a last lingering kiss before he walks out. 

There’s a flutter in her chest when she watches him go, the name feels alien to her when she’s called that, yet it does feel right, too.

CH07

[littleredroseonthevalley]

Red Rose - Chapter 10

Prologue Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 CH. 10 Ch. 11  Ch. 12 Ch. 13 Ch. 14 Ch. 15 Ch. 16

Summary: Charlotte and Drake meet again after eight years, as the event makes them remember someone thought to be long forgotten. Maxwell and Riley go to a bad neighborhood and get into some trouble, but also meet new friends.

Rating: M -  Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 with non-explicit suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, or coarse language.

Notes: Hey, peeps! Missed me much? Well, I hope this chapter makes up for it. Also, it will be an emotional week for some of our LIs. Maybe.

Oh, by the way, if you happen not to be able to read this text for there are some weird signs amidst text, do not fret! Just click on ‘Read More’. It should be perfectly legible at the blog.

Vienna, Spring 2006

“I was beginning to believe you were murdered.” Linda Rosa smiled at him, teasingly.

Drake grumbled. “Told ya I was busy this week.”

“Yes, you told me, but that don’t keep me from missing you, does it?” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

He turned his face to her. “I missed you, too.”

They kissed, trying to dispel the week of absence.

When they broke apart, Linda Rosa asks: “Which reminds me, you never told me what you have been doing these last few days.”

“A friend of mine was in town. I was with him.” Drake told her while she sat at his lap.

She pursed her lips, though. “And I couldn’t have met him?”

“No,” He said, in all seriousness. “I prefer keeping you all to myself.” He kissed her frowning lips.

Sha gave a soft laugh. “Okay, okay, I get your point. Anyways, I have great news for you!”

He grumbled, motioning for her to continue.

“Do you have any plans for the Summer?” She asked, expectantly.

“Nope.” He said.

“Well, now you do!” She said, handing him an envelope. “We’re going on a road trip!”

“What?” He opened the envelope. Inside there were two Eurail passes.

“I sold some paintings this week, Drake!” She celebrated. “With the money I bought these. We’ll be going to Italy, Croatia, Serbia, Greece, Turkey. And the best part is: I booked a Cordonian leg! I’ll get to meet your sister!”

He turned pale at the mention of his homeland.

“No!” It escaped from him before he could control his mouth.

Linda Rosa’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“I don’t think we should go on this trip.” Drake said, resolute.

“Why?” She asked, confused.

He controlled himself not to stumble on his words. “You shouldn’t be wasting your money like that, Linda Rosa!”

She scoffed. “To want to spend time with my boyfriend is hardly a waste. Besides, these tickets are promotional, personal and non-refundable. If we don’t go, we’ll lose them.”

“Well, you should have consulted with me!” He outcries.

“That would be hardly a surprise, would it not?!” She barked. “Besides, you were busy getting chummy with your friend, I couldn’t reach you even if I tried.”

“You should still ask me before you do something like that! What if I was busy?!” He argued.

“But you said so yourself you aren’t!” She screamed, but then sighed. “Drake, the problem is us going to Cordonia, isn’t it?”

He coughed. “Of course it isn’t!”

“Good Lord, Drake! You should at least lie better! You’re a lawyer, for God’s sake!”

“Rosa, please, I…”

She cut him off. “Look, Drake, I don’t know why you’re reluctant for me meeting your family, but we’ve been dating for half a year. Besides, I love you. I want to be with you. But I have the feeling you’re embarrassed of me. I want to meet your family, where you came from. So I’d like for you to consider it.”

She took her bag and left Drake alone at the park.

He felt like a screw-up.

Orikum Marina, Avlona, Cordonia, Fall 2015

“Charlotte?” Riley approached. “What are you doing here?”

She did not answer, just stood up and hugged the black-haired woman, crying on her shoulder.

“Oh, Lord, Charlotte, what on Earth has happened?”

She just sobbed harder.

“You’re worrying me, Charlotte.” Riley stroked the other woman’s back. “What is it? Is it Federigo?”

She hiccupped. “No, it’s not him.”

“Karen? Ludwig?” She offered.

Charlotte snickered through her tears. “It’s weird hearing them being called like that.”

“It is their names, isn’t it?” Riley elbowed, teasingly.

“I guess they are used to being called Their Honors or Mother and Father.”

“Or wife and husband.” The black-haired mocked, using voices.

Charlotte laughed, despite herself. “I miss them, sometimes.”

“I do too, sometimes. Despite everything.” Riley smiled, melancholic. “What happened, Charlotte? Why are you crying so much? I’m worried for you.”

“I…” She started saying but stopped. Finally, she continued: “It’s nothing, I just saw you sailing, and I… I remembered something, something foolish and I started crying.”

“But, Charlotte, how foolish can it be? You were crying!”

Charlotte motioned to respond, but they were cut off by a voice.

“Riley?”

“Hana!” The black-haired responded.

“What are you doing here?” She looked at the blonde woman, in confusion.

“I am sorry, miss.” Charlotte said, rapidly picking up the cue. “I seem to have caused you trouble. Thank you for helping me, but I’ll excuse myself now.”

“No, not at all!” Riley denied. “Do you need any further assistance, miss?”

“No, but I thank you. Excuse me.” She left.

Hana came closer. “Riley, do you know who she is?!”

She made a confused face. “No, she was just crying over there, and I tried calming her down. I never got her name.”

“She’s Duchess Charlotte Amelie Torelli of Guastalla!” Hana exclaimed. “Her family is one of the wealthiest in Europe!”

“Oh, no! I had no idea!” Riley lied through her teeth. “Oh, what if I offended her somehow?!”

The notion almost drove a smile to her lips. Her, caring about whether Charlotte’s feelings were hurt. Oh, what would her 2009-self say?

“I’m sure she has nothing but good things to say about you, Riley.” Hana dismissed. “Who else would attend to a crying woman in the middle of a busy event like that? She’s probably very grateful.”

Riley smiled, in pretend-shyness. “When you put it like that…” She took a breath and continued: “Were you looking for me, Hana?”

“Yes, actually.” She looked crestfallen. “My parents said I was supposed to host a viewing party at my boat this morning, but they overestimated my popularity. Olivia’s really got her hooks in the ladies here. My parents invited dozens of nobles, but no-one accepted.”

“That’s regrettable to hear.” Riley said, in a compassionate note.

“It’s okay, I have lots of champagne, appetizers and a viewing deck, all for myself.” She took a breath and then kept speaking, in a shyer tone. “I was thinking if you wouldn’t like to accompany me?”

Riley smiled wolfishly at her. “And ditch Olivia’s party? Hell yeah!”

Hana got very excited with her response. “Then I’m glad to come to your rescue. Please, follow me.”

They returned to the gate area and boarded Hana’s yacht. Riley noticed it was much more luxurious than the Beaumont’s. The deck seemed more spacious and the wood of the decoration was better-kept. At the deck, there were decadent strawberries and champagne set out next to cushioned seats and silken pillows.

Hana mock-bowed. “Welcome to my humble yacht.”

Riley lifted her eyebrows. “I wouldn’t use that adjective.”

“It’s a public appearance and my family wants to look good in front of the Royal Family.” Hana dismissed. “They think it’s of the utmost importance that I impress everyone here, no matter how extravagant the display is.”

“I’m sure you succeed.” Riley said. “I’m no connoisseur, but I am pretty sure this bottle of champagne is worth a week’s wage.”

“Well, what is mine is yours.” Hana invited, excitedly. “Please enjoy whatever you want.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

They each picked up a flute and cheered.

Looking around, Riley could see a dozen waiters and several crates of champagne. “This is actually a lot of booze, even for a party.” She commented, mildly impressed.

“Well, the ship is new and hasn’t been named yet. Naming it would’ve been cause for a celebration.” Hana said. “But since you’re here, I’m hoping you’ll help me christen it.”

“You want my help?” Riley said, somewhat incredulous.

“Yeah! It’ll be fun!”

“O-kay, then.” The black-haired said and thought for a while. “Electra, perhaps?”

“After the Iliad?” Hana asked. “Isn’t it a little… tragic?”

“Well, yeah, but despite everything, Electra was a fierce, determined woman, I think it’s a good omen.” Riley said. “Besides, it’s a dope name for a boat, don’t you think?”

Hana thought for a second. “Yeah, I guess you have a point. Electra, it is! Now, we must officially christen her.”

Riley picked up an unopened champagne bottle and said: “Let’s do it together.”

“Alright. We both named it, after all.”

Each girl placed a hand on the bottle, near the spout. After a count of three, they smashed the glass against the railing of the boat. The foamy beverage ran down the hull.

“And with that, we christen you Electra.” Riley smiled.

“Oh, look!” Hana pointed to the water. “The races are about to start! The boats are taking their positions.”

In the distance, boats gather at the starting line, their colored sails dotting the horizon.

“Which boat do you think it’ll win?” Hana asked.

“Dunno, but I’ll bet on the star-spangled one just for the Hell of it.”

Hana elbowed Riley teasingly. “Feeling the call of homeland?”

“It’s more because I know next to nothing about sailing, and that one jumped to my eye, but sure, let’s go with yours.”

The Asian laughed but was soon muffled by the starting pistol shot. “There they go!” She says.

“How far out they go?” Riley wondered.

“Around the bay.” Hana provided. “We won’t see them for a couple of hours. It’s a long race.” Her smile turned devilish. “In the meantime, want to take the boat out for a ride?”

“Oh, Lord, please!”

Hana gives an order to the crew and soon enough they were lounging with champagne flutes on their hands and the sea breeze on their hairs.

“The view up here is amazing!” Riley commented.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” Hana said, earnestly. “Riley… thank you for coming to my party.”

“Oh, no. Thank YOU. I’m having a blast.”

Hana smiled self-consciously. “Oh, please, you’re the one who’s making this a party. Otherwise, it would be just me crying into the champagne.”

“Banish the thought!” She mocked.

Soon enough, the first of the returning sailboats appear.

“Here comes the ships!” Riley pointed to the tiny dot on the distance.

“Let’s head back to the marina to see the winner.”

As it turns out, Riley was wrong on her guess. “Darn it! I was so sure I’d win!” She jokingly said. “Look at those smiles.” She pointed to the winning crew, receiving the honors from the Royal Family.

“They look so happy.” Hana commented. “It’s just… my whole life I’ve done nothing but lose.”

“I find it hard to believe, Hana. You’re good in everything you do.”

“Nothing that really counts.” She grumbled. “I lost my fiancé, I lost my family’s respect. They think I’m a complete failure.”

“Then screw them. You don’t need other people’s approval, the only person you have to please is yourself.” Riley dismissed, between champagne gulps. “Don’t live other people’s lives, you don’t get time off from being you.”

“There’s wisdom in that…” Hana conceded, begrudgingly. “But I wouldn’t mind some praise from people close to me.”

Riley looked at the crates of champagne and said: “You know, we could have our own victory celebration.”

“What for?”

“Do you have anything better to do right now? Let’s celebrate life, celebrate celebrations. Sometimes you just gotta celebrate!”

Riley picked up a bottle, shook it and opened with a pop, splashing Hana with the liquid.

“And the winner of the Formula 1 Grand Prix is… HANA LEE!”

The tanned-skin woman screamed in surprise, but soon jumped away from the beverage, laughing.

“That was a sneaking attack!” The woman protested.

“What about it?” Riley smiled, wickedly.

Hana grabbed a bottle, shakes it, then returns fire. “Gotcha!”

They run around the deck until the last of the bottles runs dry.

“I cannot believe the Regatta is already over!” Hana sat down, exhausted, though happily. “I was really dreading today… but thanks to you, it was more fun than I ever expected!”

“You won’t be hearing any complaints from me.” Riley said, kindly. “I had a lot of fun too.”

“Good.” The other smiled.

The boat moored on the docks, and the girls got off it. They walked to the Royal Box, where the other girls were gathering.

“Now the real party begins!” Hana excitedly said.

“I figure!” Riley responded. “Maxwell told me how excited he is for the beach party.”

“It’s not just a party, it is an extravaganza!” Olivia meddled.

Riley raised an eyebrow. “The difference is?”

Olivia narrowed her eyes but did not say a word. Penelope, however, sighed dreamily. “I am happy that this party means more time with the Prince!”

The black-haired just rolled her eyes and walked a little ways off the girl crowd, Hana in tow. Soon enough, Maxwell appears out of nowhere.

“Are you ready for the BEACH EXTRAVAGANZA?!” He asked, excitedly.

“As long as I don’t have to accomplish some absurd task, like become a firebreather or save a village from a tsunami, I am, thank you for asking.” Riley responded.

Maxwell hugged her shoulders. “Don’t worry! It’ll be just a fun party in the most gorgeous beach in the country. Even better, it’s on Sason Island, a secluded Navy base, so there will be no chance of being anyone else there.”

“Thank goodness for that!” Riley cheered.

Hana seemed glad too. “That sounds amazing! The water’s so unbelievably beautiful. I cannot wait to get out of this dress and into my bikini!”

“I knew I was forgetting something.” Maxwell looked at Riley with puppy eyes. “Riley, you didn’t happen to bring a swimsuit, did you?”

She raised an unamused eyebrow at him. “No, I didn’t.”

“We can buy one at the village?” He offered.

“Fine, let’s go.” Riley picked up her purse from Maxwell’s offering hands. “Hana, we’ll probably meet you there.”

“Okay!” She chirped. “See you!”

Vienna, Spring 2006

“You’re an idiot.” The voice resounded over the phone.

“Savannah, you’re my sister. You were supposed to take my side.” Drake said, not betraying his own opinion that yes, he was an idiot.

“I would, but you are an idiot.” She responded, in a definite tone. “Drake, there’s nothing in Cordonia to be ashamed of.”

He sighed. “I’m not ashamed of anything, Savannah.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, too.” She used a knowing voice.

He done a double take.

She then continued. “Rosa loves you. Just because she’s coming to Cordonia, it doesn’t mean she’ll fall madly in love with Liam or Leo or Bertrand. She said it herself, she loves you, not them. Have a little faith, goodness.”

He sighed. “I know, I know.”

“If you’re struggling with that so much, why not to come to Cordonia and not visit the Royal Palace? I mean, you could stay at a hotel, away from here, and we’d meet for dinner. Two nights, she’ll be happy, I’ll get to meet the girl who made my surly brother a bumbling fool, and there will be no chance she’ll meet Liam.”

Drake reflected for a second. “This is actually a good idea.”

“I know,” She said, smugly. “You have a genius of a sister.”

He smiled. “I do.”

“Besides,” She continued. “The odds are you wouldn’t be able to meet Liam even if you wanted to.”

“Constantine’s still slave-driving him?” Drake scoffed.

“Don’t speak like that!” Savannah chastened. “He’s the King!”

“Whatever you say, Savannah, whatever you say.” He dismissed.

“Why does he even is so keen in training Prince Liam, anyways? Leo’s the heir.” Savannah wondered out loud.

“It’s how Constantine show love, I suppose. Besides, Leo’s incompetent. Someone should take responsibility over the country. Might as well be Liam.”

“I guess we’re getting a little off-topic here.” Savannah said, trying to ignore Drake’s anti-monarchism. “Go call Rosa!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll call her. See ya, sis.”

“Bye-bye!” She hung up.

Orikum Marina, Avlona, Cordonia, Fall 2015

After leaving Riley and Hana, Charlotte found another bench at the marina to sit down and watch the bay. There was little to do back at her hotel, and she wasn’t ready to go back to Italy just yet.

However, her luck that afternoon was rotten. “Charlotte!” She heard her name being called on a deep voice.

She looked over to the source of the sound. “Oh, God.” She whispered to herself.

“Drake.” She acknowledged. “Long time no see.”

It was Drake Walker. Charlotte didn’t see him for almost ten years, thankfully. And it did not take much to infer both of them did not enjoyed their earlier encounters.

“Cut the crap, Rosenberg.” He sneered. “What are you doing here?”

She scoffed. “When it became your business? I didn’t get the memo.”

“It became my business when you had the idea of coming to Avlona of all places.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “If you absolutely must know, I was enjoying the regatta. I was, until you came up to me.”

“Now it’s over. Leave.” He commanded.

She laughed, ironically. “When did you purchase the marina?”

“People of your lair only bring disgrace, Rosenberg. Just leave.”

“Little Drake’s still sore about Rosie?” Charlotte baby-talked with him, raising to her feet. “That’s on you, you know that.”

“Go to Hell, Charlotte.” He barked.

“Anywhere you are, there’s Hell.” She smirked, deviant.

He fumed but did not say a thing. She came closer to him and placed her hand on his face and stroked his cheek. “You know, I met your new girlfriend. Lovely girl, this Riley.”

He grabbed her hand. “Stay away from her.” He said, menacing.

“Drakie-poo always spoils my fun.” She laughed. “But it seems I’ve overstayed my welcome. See you soon, Walker.”

She picked up her purse and left.

Orikum, Avlona, Cordonia, Fall 2015

They walked from the marina gates to a small community in the outskirts of Avlona, composed mainly of old fishermen’s homes and shanty houses.

“I don’t think tourists were supposed to see this part of town.” Riley commented.

“Probably not…” Maxwell grimaced. “But you needn’t worry! I’m here to protect you if anyone tries anything! And I know there’s a boutique near a church here.”

“Not that I really mind, but is it, like, a brand name?” Riley shyly asked. “I know you said it’s an island and there will be no intruders, but Olivia will do her very best to humiliate me, no need to help her on that department.”

“It’s fancy, sure! I won’t steer you wrong.” He soothed her. “There’s this stylist who lives around here and designs beachwear. He says the fishermen’s village give him inspiration.”

“Fishermen?” Riley was confused. “How can they fish with the marina right over there?”

Maxwell turned particularly uncomfortable.

“Oh, I get it.” Riley narrowed her eyes in contempt. “They don’t.”

“Yeah… since they built it back in the 1970’s, this place has really gone under.” He said. “But the old square is still very nice!”

She glared at Maxwell but didn’t say a thing. A short walk later they enter the town’s boutique. The brunet went straight to the bikini rack and picked one up.

“It’s the only one your size.” He handed it to her.

“Let us see that.”

It was a white, one-piece swimsuit. She took off her marine clothing and put it on. Riley was growing nervous, as she used a size enlargement bodice under her clothes and an insole to disguise her measurements, but the swimsuit covered it all. Actually, it indulged her vanity, as it showed her beautiful natural legs and gave a nice, youthful lift to her breasts.

Riley also picked up a cover-up, just to be absolutely sure no-one would see the bodice underneath it.

Dressed up, she got out of the fitting room. “How do I look, Maxwell?”

He blushed and stuttered. “That… looks good on you.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. “Oh, by the way, do you have a swimsuit?”

He smiled sheepishly. “No, I forgot.”

“Well, then let’s buy one for you, too.”

“No. I mean… Bertrand would get real mad if we spent money on that.”

“Maxwell, if that’s really the problem, I can buy it for you. I won’t go hungry because of a trunk.”

“No!” He got restless. “I-I couldn’t! I was supposed to buy you stuff, not the other way around…”

“O-kay, then, I won’t pressure you.” She said, somewhat bothered. “Let’s go?”

They paid for their purchase and left the store.

As they were walking through the village, they heard a commotion a few meters ahead. It was a man, leaning against a Greek-license car, harassing two girls on an alley.

Not waiting for Maxwell to keep her from intervening, Riley strutted ahead. “Hey, what is going on!”

The man sneered. “None of your business, girl! Go along and leave.”

She glared at him. “I much disagree. In fact, it seems you were bothering these girls over here.”

Maxwell ran to her. “Riley, please, let’s go.”

“Yeah, obey your man, bitch.” The stranger mocked.

Maxwell glared at him but kept trying to convince her to leave.

“You did not answer my question, sir.” Riley barbed. “What are you doing to these girls?”

He scoffed. “They’re hookers, and they’re cheating me out of my money.” Just as he finishes speaking, a devious smile appears on his face. “Perhaps, if you’re so worried about them, you’d like to take their place.”

He grabbed her arm.

“Hey!” Maxwell cried. “Let go of her!”

The man glared at Maxwell and threw a punch at him, who tumbled backwards with the impact.

“Oh, no, you didn’t!” Riley screamed at him. She got a taser from her purse and electrified him from behind.

The potency of the device and the sensitive spot on the man’s body made him fall face first on the pavement, grumbling.

“Do. Not. EVER. Punch Maxwell.” She growled at him. “And you fucking broke my nail!”

She kicked him on the stomach with her pointy heel shoe, which made him grumble and fall flat once again.

With the man taken care of, the three girls run to Maxwell.

“Oh, Lord, Maxwell!” Riley cried. “Are you alright?!”

“Yeah…” He smiled, his nose bloody. “I’m fine.”

“Your nose is broken! We got to take you to the hospital, quick.”

“I have house nearby.” One of the girls, a blonde, said. “Come, bring man.”

Avlona, Cordonia, Summer 2006

It was mid-afternoon in Cordonia’s capital city. The sun was merciless as always, the air was stiff and suffocating over the city. Drake and Linda Rosa, just like anyone else around them, were sweating like pigs and trying desperately to alleviate the intense heat.

The redhead, however, was smiling like never before.

“Rosa, please.” Drake complained. “You’ve just arrived from Dubrovnik. I cannot either bear or believe you’re excited about Avlona. Especially the port area.”

The neighborhood surrounding the port was greatly degraded. It was home to the bad and worst of Valonian society. Most tourists that came with them on the ferry were quick to disappear inside a cab heading to the heights around the Royal Palace and the financial district, or over the hills to Vougliameni.

The couple, however, was traveling on a budget, and could not afford fancy hotels in trendy neighborhoods. A very tight one, considering Drake insisted in paying for their accommodations during their vacation. So, he charged himself with the task of finding a hotel for them to stay in Cordonia which was clean, minimally comfortable, and far, far away from Brigade Hill. He chose a cheap one two or three squares from the ferry terminal, simple, yet respectable.

“Don’t be a party pooper, D.” She teased. “I’m happy to be here, with you.”

He smiled, in spite of himself. “Well, don’t be so giddy. We’re at a dump. Save your excitement for the touristic parts.”

“A shame we could only stay for such a short time.” Linda Rosa lamented.

“Those extra few days in Udine were worth it.” Drake commented, in faux-disinterest. “Besides, if we stay for too long in Cordonia, we’ll end up missing our train back to Austria.”

In reality, though, Drake had done what he could and somethings he really could not to delay their trip before the Cordonian leg and to rush their departure from his homeland.

“I suppose, though two days feel like an awful short amount of time! We’ll be barely able see a thing. Are you sure you weren’t able to book that palace tour?”

“Nope, they were full for today and tomorrow we wouldn’t be able to catch our ferry to Greece.” He lied through his teeth. “Don’t worry, Rosa, we’ll see plenty of stuff around town.”

“Yeah!” She cheered. “You’re completely right!”

“Besides,” He pointed to the distance. “You’re able to check the palace from here, anyways.”

The golden pavilion dominated the city’s horizon. It glistened in the Summer’s midday Sun on top of the hill. The mast on the building’s roof, Drake joyfully noticed, was devoid of its flag, a clear sign the King was away.

“It’s absolutely beautiful!” She breathed.

The Royal Family usually fled from the Summer’s heat at Applewood, hidden amongst the valleys between Neokastron and Tirkan, at the heart of the country. It was rare for either Regina, Constantine or even Leo to emerge from their self-imposed exile before the latter days of September.

It was mid-July, though, the perfect time of year to come to Cordonia and not meeting the King.

They got to their hotel, checked in and put their bags into the room. Linda Rosa laid into their bed. “I still don’t understand why we had to stay at a hotel.”

“My sister lives with some relatives.” He explained, once more. “They aren’t very nice folks and wouldn’t look kindly in me bringing guests over.”

“If they’re that nasty, I’m sorry for your sister having to live with them.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, I’m sorry for her, too.”

Later that night, they met Savannah at a small restaurant near Anastasis Cathedral, in the heart of the city. The streets were bustling with life, Drake and Linda Rosa having some difficulty in walking through the narrow paths, no-one seemed very keen in staying indoors with such warm weather.

Their meeting place was a quaint, delightful salon, going back to the 1920’s. They served Grecian food, and their clients were mostly people of the land. Linda Rosa found that somewhat strange, as they were in a highly-touristic area.

“Such a lovely place, Drake!” She beamed at him.

He smirked. “I’m glad you like it. They serve great food.” He checked his clock. “I guess Savannah’s running late. Would you like to order now?”

“I’d like some wine, actually.” She said.

He motioned for the waiter to take their order.

They talked over their chalices for a while, when Linda Rosa’s phone rung. She excused herself and went outside to answer.

“Hello.” She answered.

“Good evening, dearest.”

“Mother?!” She answered, surprised. “Is something on the matter?”

“No, not at all.” She dismissed. “I’ve just been wondering if you’d join us this Summer.”

She sighed. “Mother, I’ve discussed that with you and father at length. I am traveling with my boyfriend this season. I’ll be home as soon as we finish our tour.”

“I know, I know, but we miss you.” She said. “I know we had our differences these last few months, but we love you. We hope you’ll be able to join us soon.”

“I miss you too, mother.” The redhead said, meekly. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I see…” The oldest said, dejected. “I’ll leave you to your date. Have a nice time, dearest.”

“Bye, mother.” She hung up.

Linda Rosa leaned against the wall for a while, trying to recover her peace of mind.

Feeling sufficiently calm, she stood straight. She looked around before entering at the restaurant again, when she sees someone she did not think she’d meet again.

“I cannot believe it!” She screamed. “Liam! Over here!”

The blond man was surrounded by a couple of men in suits, he, himself, in formal attire. Down the street, there was some kind of commotion, considering the amount of people gathered. He looked around, fearfully and confused, not that Linda Rosa had noticed the latter. When Liam finally locked eyes in the redhead, he smiled and strutted his way there.

“Linda Rosa!” He greeted. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m vacationing!” She said, joyfully. “With all that money you gave me, I decided to treat myself. I wasn’t aware you’d be staying here, or else I’d sent a message.”

“I was supposed to be off at the country, actually.” He responded, somewhat bashfully. “But my father sent me here on some business.”

“How nice!” She commented. “Anyways, I was just about to head in. I’m dining with my boyfriend. Wouldn’t you like to join us?”

He paled. “Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to impose. I did not know you had a boyfriend, though.”

Linda Rosa blushed. “Yeah, I do.”

Just as if on cue, Drake came out the door. “Rosa, are you okay?”

The brunet stopped on his tracks, though, as he locks his eyes on the man talking with her girlfriend.

“Drake?” Liam asked, astonished. “You’re Miss Valois’ boyfriend?”

The surly man narrowed his eyes. “Yes, yes I am.” He then turned to the girl. “Rosa, where have you met Liam?”

“You know each other?!” She commented, surprised. “It is a small world, indeed! Liam’s a customer from the gallery! He purchased those paintings I told you about.”

The brunet had to take a moment to process the information. After all the trouble he had been through to keep his girlfriend from encountering his friends, Liam in particular. Little did he know; the young nobleman fell through the cracks.

Drake grunted. “I see.”

Feeling the animosity in the air, Liam excused himself. “I am most sorry to leave you, but I must go. I am waited for. It was delightful to meet you, miss Valois. Don’t be a stranger, Drake.”

The girl waved cheerfully, while the man barely acknowledged.

“Such a coincidence, right?!” She said, still somewhat stupefied.

“Linda Rosa, what there is between you and that man?” Drake asked, with barely-contained hostility.

“Why, nothing.” She said, confused. “He’d been to the gallery, we had some coffee, talked and he bought some pieces.”

“Lies!” He hollowed. “Tell me the truth, Linda Rosa! What was you doing with the Prince of Cordonia?!”

“Wait, what? Is this some kind of nickname or so?”

“Don’t even try, that move is not going to work on me.” He sneered. “He’s Prince Liam of Cordonia, the youngest son of the King and you know that!”

“You must be kidding me!” She breathed out. “He never told me that.”

He scoffed. “If he did, it’d make a difference?”

“Well, no, but perhaps I’d be more mindful of what I said.” She said, somewhat confused. “How do you even know him? What was he doing here?”

“Oh, shut up, Linda Rosa. You know it all, perhaps always did. You knew Liam was my friend, you knew he was royalty, and I was just a stepping stone in your way to become a princess.”

She looked pointedly at her boyfriend. “Drake, if you have something to tell me, just do it. Spare me of your snarky insinuations.”

“You like Liam.” He accused. “I bet you wish you slept with him while he was in Austria.”

“That’s just preposterous, Drake.” She said in such a patronizing tone that made him look like a stupid child.

“You’re rich, Linda Rosa, just rich. You’re awfully chummy with Liam not five minutes ago. Do you really expect me to believe that you’re just friends with him?!”

“Yes, yes, I do, because I am!” She shouted. “Where is this even coming from, Walker?! Do I look like some kind of double-timing prostitute?! Am I such a repugnant person to serve only as a gaping hole for a dick?!”

“Bingo!” He ironized. “You’re nothing but a whore, Linda Rosa. A crown-chasing, common whore!”

She slapped him hard.

“Listen, Drake, and listen to me good. I have never laid a finger upon that man, nor have I ever wished otherwise. The only shame I have is to have ever sullied myself with the likes of you.” She said, in that calm that comes with intense rage.

“The feeling is mutual, sweetheart.”

“I guess there’s nothing else to be said, then.” She picked up her purse and walked away.

Orikum, Avlona, Cordonia, Fall 2015

Faced with little choice, Riley complied with the blonde’s offer to take them to her place and the two girls led them to a three-floor shanty. It seemed the two of them shared a small room at the ground floor of the building. The apartment was neat, but it was very small and had a seemingly-permanent stench on the air.

“Sit him here.” The blonde pointed to a chair, while preparing a first-aid kit.

Maxwell complied.

“Who are you?” Riley asked.

The blonde once again answered. “I am Katya, and this is Zarina.” She pointed to the other girl, a tanned brunette.

“You have an accent. Where are you from?” She asked.

Maxwell grumbled when Katya started to mess with his nose. “I’m from Belarus.”

Riley made a noise in acknowledgement. She then turned to Zarina. “And you? Are you Cordonian?”

“Don’t bother, lady.” Katya said. “Zarina is from Kosovo, she doesn’t speak French.”

“Oh, does she speak Greek? English? German?” Riley offered.

“No, she speaks Albanian, Bulgarian and Russian.”

“How did you even get here?” She inquired.

Katya demeaned. “Pimp said we be going to Britain, but instead brought us here. I came with fourteen girls, and I don’t see them since. Zarina crossed on her own, this is only job she could find.”

Riley observed Katya’s hand working on Maxwell’s nose. She was steady, efficient and precise. “Katya, how do you know how to heal a broken nose?”

“I was nurse in Belarus.” She shrugged. “I can’t find job in Belarus, so I came.”

Riley eyed the girl. She was very young, 25 at most, and Zarina seemed even younger.

“Done.” The blonde announced, and Maxwell groaned.

“Are you okay, Maxwell?” Riley asked, worriedly.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Battle scars are sexy, aren’t they?” He joked.

She hugged him. “I’m glad, Maxwell, I’m sorry for what happened.”

He smiled at her and hugged her back.

“And thank you, Katya. You did not have to help us.” Riley thanked the blonde woman.

“I thank you, lady.” She said. “People like you don’t usually care for us, and if you had not helped, we would be in trouble.”

Riley smiled at them. “Don’t worry about that. In fact,” She took a card from her purse. “If you need me, call this number. You shouldn’t be forced to live like that.”

Katya grimaced, but took the card anyways. Zarina served them some tea, and the two Beaumont’s took a cup and drunk it.

Riley hummed. “It is very good! What is it?”

“It is raspberry leaves tea.” Katya provided.

“Could you thank Zarina for me?” Riley asked.

Katya speaks in Russian with Zarina, who bows. “She says you honor her.” The blonde said.

Riley and Maxwell finish their tea and say their goodbyes.

They were leaving the village when Riley called. “Maxwell?”

“Yes?” He responded.

“Why do you lie to me?” She asked.

“What?” He said, stupefied. “What do you mean?”

Riley frowned her forehead. “Maxwell, I’m not stupid. I’ve noticed you and Bertrand try to keep things from me. When we were attacked in Scutari, you bullied the policemen, so they wouldn’t tell me why they were protesting. You never told me what kind of tasks I’ll face until January, and today, if you had your way, I’d not know about this village.”

He sighed. “Are you mad?”

“No, I’m not mad. But, Maxwell, I have to know where I’m going in to. If everything goes well, I’m going to be Queen, and as such, I couldn’t have the luxury of going blind into the government.”

“I know, I know.” He said, anguished. “But I… I am worried that if I show you the bad parts of Cordonia, if I show you here is no fairytale land, you’ll leave.”

Riley placed her right hand on his shoulder, halting their walking. She faced him, looked him straight into his eyes.

“Oh, Maxwell.” She hugged him. He hugged her back, fiercely. When they broke apart, she continued: “I’m not going to leave, I’m going to see this season through, and I’ll be doing my very best. I won’t be abandoning you or Bertrand.”

He smiled, melancholically. “I’m sorry, Riley.”

“That’s okay, dear. Just promise me you’ll do better.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He beamed at her. “Now, let’s go. We must get you to the island before the party is all over.”

When they reached the marina, Maxwell went down the deck, trying to find an available boat to take them to Sason Island.

Alone and after checking for anybody who could overhear her conversation, she fished out her phone from her purse and dialed a number. “Hello, it’s me. I have a plan, and you’ll be helping me.”

Athens, Greece, Summer 2006

Linda Rosa gracefully gathered her belongings from her room that fateful night and fetched a cab to Argyrocastron, where she dutifully waited for her flight.

Her passport was stamped at customs, and she still held onto her neutral expression. Her suitcase dutifully rolled behind her as she walked through the arrivals lobby.

Her face was stony still, when she finally locked eyes with the one she was looking for.

Teary-eyed, she ran to the young woman, some fifty steps away from her. The woman opened her arms, invitingly, and hugged her tightly.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” She said, trying to console Linda Rosa.

The redhead was as flushed as the color of her own hair. “I hate him. I fucking hate him.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” She patted her back. “Come on, let’s go back to the hotel, we’ll run a bath for you, order some comfort food and later we’ll go to the beach. The Sun heals.”

She sobbed. “Thank you, Charlotte. Thank you for coming and get me.”

“No prob. Come, come!” She cheered and picked up her stuff.

Red Rose - Masterlist

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[littlesoufflecafe]

One For The Road | Chapter 14 Cut Scene: “Invites, Grief, and a Faint Pulse”

A/N: Chapter fourteen of this fic was initially going to be much darker than what it ended up being. Instead of Emma waking up Clara, she wakes up by herself, and that scenario in itself grew rather difficult to write. I wanted Clara to have a source of hope in this chapter, and that hope manifested itself in Emma in the final draft.

-----

"Do you want to go to this?" he asked her weeks after it'd happened. Clara was at the kitchen table pushing Cheerios around a bowl of milk, and had looked up to see her father holding an invitation to her Top of the Class Banquet. Her last one before going off to university. "It says here you're allowed two guests."

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wanting to disappear into her sweater. "Who else would I take?"

"Well, we could ask your Aunt Linda, or Gran, if you like."

Aunt Linda always looked at her as if she were a piece of chewing gum she'd picked up on the bottom of her shoe, and her grandmother lived two hours away. She doubted either of them would appreciate the invite, for they were smart enough to know that their presence would merely serve as a filler for the one person they couldn't have. And the idea of sitting next to an empty seat all night was appalling.

"I'd rather not go," she told him, dropping her spoon into the bowl with a plunk. Flecks of milk flew atop the dark green tablecloth; she tried drying them out with her thumb. "It's on a school night."

"You've never missed an academic banquet before."

"Yeah, well, I've never been without a mum before, so I'd rather not go," she said coldly, averting her father's hurt stare but absorbing its impact nonetheless. He hated when he looked at her like that. It made her feel like a bad daughter. Wasn't she allowed time to grieve? Didn't she at least deserve that? Often times, she wondered if her father thought he could smooth out paper after it had been crushed. Because he was certainly giving her a similar treatment.

Underneath her quiet disposition and snide comments, she knew he was trying to be strong for the both of them. Why that involved bouncing back to normal programming as quickly as possible, she never knew. All she was certain of was that she was the only one looking after him. Buying groceries from Sainsbury's, driving her to school—it provided Dave Oswald with a structure that required him to care for himself in turn. Without it, she doubted he'd get out of bed in the morning at all.

There was a picture on the dresser of her childhood bedroom. Clara was six when it was taken. Her father at her left hand and her mother at her right, she swung between the two of them with the most elated smile on her face. The fact that she could never recreate that picture angered her. Why did she have to be the one to lose someone who mattered to her? She was a good kid—she performed well in school, never partied or drank. Her family was nothing but loving and supportive of one another. Why did the universe feel the need to tear that apart?

At sixteen, she was pompous enough to believe that she had a choice between life and death. That whatever path she chose, she'd never be completely alone.

This was not one of those times.

Her eyes fluttered open and the scent of grass and wet earth filled her nostrils. It took her a few minutes for her vision to adjust to the darkness, but even then, all she could make out were tall, looming silhouettes against a nuanced night sky. Not even the stars were poignant enough to pierce through the dense canopy of trees.

Lifting her head from the grass, Clara felt the weight of her helmet strain her neck and shoulders. A dull pain throbbed behind her eyes, as if trying to find an escape route though the thick layers of padding and synthetic fiberglass. Where was she? Where had they parked the TARDIS? She couldn't recall agreeing to sleep on the forest floor, but given her strangely impulsive decisions these past two days, she wouldn't put it past her.

Suddenly, memories began to resurface. The sputtering sound of the TARDIS engine. The thick odor of gasoline contained between the walls of an auto-repair shop. The unkempt hair of a nineteen year-old boy, smiling at her from the corner of a motorbike license. The Doctor's motorbike license. His name alone was enough to careen her back into reality.

Clara shot up like a bullet, moaning from the stinging pain distributed throughout her body. Her world appeared muddled behind the visor of her helmet, more specifically the dirt streaked across the tinted plastic like war paint. Every breath she took was heavy and amplified. Using the remainder of her strength, the young woman unclasped the buckle and pried her helmet off. The night air never felt more soothing.

It was brighter now; she could see rays of moonlight bending around the trees, illuminating certain parts of the forest floor. Her eyes scanned the terrain with a disoriented perception, until eventually latching on to the helmet in her still-shaking hands. A crack had caved into the surface, branching out in several directions. Had she not worn any protective gear, her skull would've suffered the damage instead. Her stomach recoiled. The helmet tumbled into the grass.

She tried to face the damage spread across her arms and legs. Dark red scrapes appeared on most of her fingers. Her denim jacket was destroyed, bloodied flesh poking out at each elbow. The right pant-leg of her jeans was torn open at the knee, revealing a ghastly wound where skin once held intact. It hurt to move, more so form a coherent thought. Help. She needed help. She needed to know where she was.

"Doctor—?" she called out, her voice hoarse. Clearing her throat, she yelled, "DOCTOR!"

Nothing. Her voice echoed through the trees and sent birds cawing back in reply. She held her head in her hands and tried to stop the forest from spinning. This is not happening. Maybe if she concentrated hard enough, she could break from this dream and wake up where she was supposed to be. At this point, she didn't even know where that was. And each time she opened her eyes, she was met with the same, agonizing fate.

She was so far from anything that felt familiar. And she was alone, without anyone to pluck her out of the chaos like her mother did on Bank Holiday Monday. The panic began rising in her once more, filling her lungs until she began drowning in it—

You need to get up, a voice inside her head hissed. Pull yourself together. Nothing will happen if you just sit here and cry.

Swallowing back her tears, she dug the heels of her palms into her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. She needed to accept the fact that no one was coming to save her this time. She needed to be brave enough to stand and navigate her way out of this. Even without The Doctor by her side.

Pushing herself up off the ground, she winced from where her damaged skin stretched and tore from the movement, but managed to stand without feeling lightheaded. At least nothing was broken, to her knowledge.

Hooking her finger around the strap of her fractured helmet, Clara squinted into the darkness, and began walking. Her gait was stiff-limbed and awkward, and it wasn't long before she spotted the faint outline of a body lying face-down on the side of the road. She didn't need to come closer to know who it was. The pain suddenly became the least of her problems as she broke out into a sprint towards him.

"John!" she cried out, the name foreign on her own tongue. Knees barking in pain as she fell beside him, she mustered up the strength to flip him onto his back, the entirety of his right side bloodied and bruised. A web of cracks adorned the visor of his helmet. She quickly removed it and pushed back the hair plastered to his forehead in sweat. "John, please...wake up. I need you here with me..."

For a few horrifying seconds, she thought he was dead. The sight of his face devoid of its usual smile was enough to make her heart stop. But she refused to succumb to the worst of her thoughts and instead took action. He still had a pulse. It was faint (likely because she was rubbish at finding it), but she could feel it nonetheless, pounding beneath her fingertips pressed just beneath his jawline. Alive. He was still alive.

Lowering her ear to his lips, she could hear his breaths, rhythmic and reassuring. She tried to detect a chest rise and fall but soon gave up, as she couldn't trust her own vision in providing her with a sound resolution.

"You're gonna be okay, alright?" she told him in a whisper, placing a hand over his still-beating heart. "Someone will come and find us, I promise."

Just as he had been there for her, she would be there for him. She owed him that, at the least.

"HELP!" she hollered from the side of the road, cupping her bloodied hands around her mouth. "PLEASE, I NEED HELP!"

This went on for minutes, bile burning at the back of her throat. She must've looked like a lunatic, that is, if there were anyone there to witness her screaming her head off in the first place. But she couldn't care less for her appearance, or sanity, for that matter. Whether she attracted wolves or pulled The Doctor from his unconscious state, she'd shout louder and louder until someone heard her.

It had gotten to the point in which she pulled The Doctor closer, dragging him from the armpits to situate him closer to the road. They needed to be ready for when a car arrived to pick them up. Not if, when. She was determined to get them out of here, even if she had done permanent damage to her vocal chords by the end of it. They'd had so much luck throughout the entirety of this trip. There had to be some of it left.

But it eventually became clear to her that she was only hurting herself. The road remained deserted as far as she could tell. No one was coming for them. No one within a hundred mile radius even knew they existed. They were strangers lost in uncharted territory, with no food or water or shelter. Even her willpower to finish the trip was wearing thin. It was better to fret when there was another person beside you to share the stress with.

At first, she wasn't aware that her pleading had turned into cursing. She cursed everything—from those two men back in Reno to William in Salt Lake City, until she was eventually cursing Wayfarer Industries themselves from bringing her out here in the first place. She hated how much she cared about that stupid interview. She hated how much she had endured in these past forty-eight hours. She hated how much she actually believed that she could do something like this.

"Stars, as much as I wish you were awake right now, I'm a little glad you didn't hear any of that," she told The Doctor, having collapsed beside him out of pure exhaustion and fatigue. "No, you know what I wish? I wish you were the one who woke up. That way, you'd know what to do. You always know what to do."

It was because of him they were alive in the first place. If not for his split-second decision to swerve right, she likely wouldn't have woken up at all. The thought in itself was terrifying to her.

-----

Read the full fic here!

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12799845/1/One-For-The-Road

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14986580/chapters/34731947

[salted-barbed-wire]

Interference

Okay so a couple notes before you read this, guys. First, I switched the point of view to first person which means instead of “you, your,” it’s now “me, I, mine,”. I’ve noticed anything I write in first person seems to just flow a little more smoothly. Second, I AM AWARE THAT JON MOXLEY WORKED IN DGUSA AND CZW DURING THE SAME THREE YEARS! I’M ALSO AWARE THAT HE AND HELLENA HEAVENLY DATED SOMEWHERE IN THAT TIME FRAME BUT SHE WAS MAINLY IN DRAGON GATE. For the sake of this au, let’s all pretend that Mox has been in CZW for the last 3 years and hasn’t been to DGUSA for at least a year or so. Okay?Okay.

Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve updated this story! But here’s part 10!

Enjoy!

Master List Plug! (It’s got the previous chapters listed on it as well)

My smile widened as I tightened my grip on Lillian’s arm. Her squeals and kicks only made me squeeze harder. Jon would be proud of me using the chicken wing on her. “Tap!” I commanded. “Tap! Tap! Tap!” Cheered the crowd. I could taste victory. That was until I heard the music hit. All eyes in the audience went to the curtain, Lillian turned her head and laughed. “Here comes your boyfriend.” She pulled out of my grip. “Good thing we know who’s side he’s on.” She said. Lillian went for a tackle but I planted my footing and reversed it into a DDT instead. She laid there, most likely seeing stars. I watch Jon come down to the ring. His dimples were showing as he strutted up to the apron. “Hey there doll-face.” He winked at me. “Came to get the best seat in the house.” “Stay out of this, Mox!” I yelled pointing at him. I turned just as Lillian super kicked me right in the chest. I fell back onto my shoulders. The wind had been knocked out of me. I felt my left leg be hooked and the ref’s hand hit the mat. “One…. two…” My right leg moved, it was placed by a set of warm hands on the bottom rope. This caused the ref to stop the count and Lillian to begin throwing one of her class act tantrums. I rolled to see Mox shouting at me, “Get her! Get her! She’s distracted!” Mox moved my foot on the rope… “(Y/N)! Go pin the bitch!” He yelled again. I got half up, then slid over behind Lillian, placing my arm between her legs and rolling her down into a pin. She kicked out immediately, but as she stood I gave her a huge forearm sending her down to the mat again. Quick as lightning, I got the cover. “One… two… three!” The bell rang. The crowd and Moxley went nuts. I leaned back onto my knees and looked around in awe. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as the ref brought me MY title. Jon joined me in the ring. He pushed the ref out of the way and hauled me to my feet. “You did it,” he whispered. My heart melted at the pride in his blue eyes. I jumped up and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I love you.” I whispered in his ear. “I love you too. Now, let me have the honors in showing off my new champ.” I pulled back and smiled at him. Jon’s hand gripped mine and he held it above my head. In the other hand, I held my new title.

“Oh my God!” I screamed as Jon and I walked out to the car. “I can’t believe this opportunity. And you get a title shot next week? Talk about the power couple.” “You got it, sweet thang.” He said as he slapped my ass, “You going to wear that title while you ride my cock tonight?” I bit my lip. “I just might have to.” Jon put a finger under my chin, “Mmm you’d look so sexy wearing only that belt.” His eyes wandered to my lips. “Come here.” I heard him whisper as he pulled my chin up towards him for a kiss. “Will you two get a room?” A voice came from behind us. Sami Callahan walked over and placed his hand on Jon’s shoulder, “I think tonight calls for a celebration. Don’t you, Mox?” “Oh here we go.” I grumbled as I rolled my eyes. “Hey, hey, hey,” Sami held up his hands to me. “It’s just a small party.” “Please. I’ve heard tales of your ‘small parties’.” I did air quotes. “I’m not much of a party person.” Sami’s jaw dropped. “Not much of a party person? What? Is that even a real thing?” Sami looked to Jon for and explanation, but only got a shrug. “Well, nerd, maybe you just haven’t been to the right kind of parties.” I rolled my eyes again, “Sami, we don’t need-” “Yes we do because I’ve already invited everyone over. And they’ve all told their friends. And these people all know this party is for you, so you have to come.” Jon looked at me, “We should probably make an appearance.” “You just want free booze.” I glared.

Despite my hesitation, the party was actually a lot of fun. Everyone from work was there, most of them drunk out of their minds. Sami had even made sure to invite Linda and her boyfriend, Zach. Jon and I were sitting on the couch talking to Zach and Linda who had pushed a few lawn chairs together. Mox’s arm was lazily placed behind my shoulders on the back rest of the couch. Every now and then I’d rest my head on his shoulder and he’d lean down and kiss my forehead almost on command. The brush of his lips on my hairline seemed to keep me relaxed.  “Don’t look so thrilled to be here, Zach.” I said sipping on a cherry flavored drink Mox had made for me. “I’ll try not to,” He grumbled. Linda nudged him, “Why are you being such a Debbie-downer? This is (Y/N)’s party! We’re here to have fun.” “He’s just worried that someone will swoop in and take his girl.” I teased. My hands gestured around to all of the mingling bodies, “Look at all the potential rivalries, Zach.” He gave me the finger, which Mox returned on my behalf. “I meant to tell you something the other day, (Y/N).” Zach started with a cocky smile. “There’s something you might want to know.” Linda smacked his arm, “Not here.” She hissed. “Ouch, why are you always beating on me after a few drinks?” “Because you get stupid after a few drinks.” “Will you two knock it off,” I cut between their argument. “What am I supposed to know?” “(Y/N), it’s nothing that can’t wait until after the party. Let’s just have fun tonight.” Linda tried to give me a smile. I looked at Zach, my curiosity was tugging on me, “Are you going to tell me?” Zach shook his head, “She won’t let me.” “Probably a good idea not to challenge your woman,” Mox let out a chuckle. “They can be very vengeful.” I shot him a glare, “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jon’s arm moved to my shoulders and squeezed me closer to him, “Nothing, love. Only that I never want to upset you again.” He leaned down and kissed my lips. The electricity went through me, I wish he would just come home with me already. “GROSS!” Zach yelled. Linda giggled as Jon and I both out stretched our arms towards him, both of us giving him the bird. “You two are so perfect for each other.” She smiled. “It would sure seem that way,” a voice came from behind us. I turned to see a tall red head standing behind the couch Mox and I were sitting on. Her blue eyes were burning into me. I looked away from her, towards Jon. His face had become pale, and he looked like had seen a ghost. What’s wrong with him? “Hi,” I said, attention focusing back on her. “Do I know you?” “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Moxley?” She said, her eyes never leaving mine. “Um..” I heard him hesitate, “What are you doing here, Hellena?” “I was invited. I heard you were getting another title shot, then I also heard how you helped this one put on the match of the century.” She finally turned her gaze towards him, “I figured I’d come down and watch the match on Sunday. I’m your good luck charm remember?” She winked. I stood up and extended my hand, “I’m (Y/N).” My stomach was boiling with anger, “His current good luck charm.” Hellena reached out her hand, “Oh I know who you are,” She gave me a smirk then reached out and took my hand. “I watched your match tonight. You’re good kid, but you could sure use some more practice before you hang with the pros.” My jaw tightened. Who the fuck does she think she is? Hellena released my hand and looked down at Mox, “Jonny. I’ll be here until Monday just in case you want to catch up. And if you win on Sunday,” she bent down, practically shoving her exposed cleavage in his face, “Maybe we can celebrate like we used to.” With that she turned and walked away. I stood there and glared at her curly red hair as she walked out of Jon and Sami’s apartment.  “What the fuck was that?” Zach said finally, “I’m straight up lost.” Mox looked at me, “I need to find Sami.” I stopped him from getting up, “No, first you need to tell me who that was.” Mox sighed, “That was my ex.” “And she got to walk all over us… why?” I placed my hands on my hips. Jon measured my movements, “We need to go see Sami, then we’ll talk. Okay?” I shook my head. “No. I think I’m going to go home a process this.” I picked up my stuff. “Babe!” He tried to stop me. “I’ll drive you,” Linda blocked Mox from coming too close. “Just let her cool off. I’ll have her call you later.” A worried, sad look spread across Jon Moxley’s face. My anger softened for just a moment, “I’ll call you later. I promise.”

“I can’t believe any of that.” I grumbled as I fell onto the sofa in my own apartment. “Where the fuck did she even come from?” “Girl, don’t over think it.” Linda said. She was in the kitchen making quite a bit of noise. “I know you’re over think everything that just happened back there, but right now you just need to get back into a relaxed state of mind.” “I just can’t believe she just appeared out of no where.” I laid there with my hand over my face, “Jon said she left and never came back, that she didn’t mean anything to him.” “So? That’s a good thing right?” She yelled over the tea kettle screeching. “Yeah but did you see the look on his face when he saw her?” I felt like crying. “Jesus!” I sighed, “Why did this have to happen tonight?” Linda sat down next to me holding a cup of hot tea for me. “Here. You’re over thinking it.” I took the tea and inhaled. It was chamomile and lavender, so warm and relaxing. The scent had me feeling better, I almost didn’t hear the knock at the door. “It’s probably Jon.” I whispered. “I shouldn’t have been so mean.” “Do you want me to answer it?” She asked me. I smiled, “No, I need to apologize.” I stood as the door knocked again, more urgently this time. “I’m coming!” I yelled. Knock, knock, knock. It came again. “Jesus, Jon!” I yelled. I swung the door open, “I said I was-” My jaw hit the floor and the cup of tea slipped from my hand. There stood a dark haired man. Brown eyes, average build, and a smirk that made my hand clench into a fist. “Hello, baby.” The smooth voice said in almost a seductive tone. “Long time no see.” Linda came around the corner and gasped, “Tyler! What the fuck are you doing here?!?”

[smol-and-grumpy]

Sky Full Of Stars - CH07

Sequel to Something Just Like This

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, ex mobster boss, still a little cocky, less ruthless and not at all short tempered anymore. Instead, he thinks he’s hilarious (she doesn’t agree, though). They both try to live a quiet life. And Dean hopes, very hard, that his former life won’t come knocking at their door.

Warnings: Really, really fluffy but also there’s angst and a little NSFW

WC: 2957

A/N: The only joy I had today was editing this. So here you go, have two chapters in one day. Happy Friday!

SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s mid-September. The leaves are starting to change their colors, some of them already falling down. Little brown and yellow dots, a stark contrast to the green grass. Dean loves it. Loves when the season changes, loves how he can even smell the air change around him, loves how the leaves crunches underneath his boots. 

He’s in his study. It overlooks the backyard, because it’s the room below their bedroom. Y/N’s right above him, she most likely sees the same thing when she looks out of the window into their backyard. They’re lucky with the weather, too, today.

She probably does look out right now. If she does, she’ll see the people mingling, sees the flower arch, sees the little white chairs in front of it. She’ll see Bobby who’s dressed to the nines, nervously reciting his speech. The old man looks different without his cap and plaid shirt. 

What she doesn’t see, though, is some people hiding behind the big trees on the outskirts of their property. What she doesn’t see is that there are always cars outside their gate. Cars and people who always have an eye on them. 

Gabe set up his company and employed the best of people like Dean asked him to. It seems like everyone knows about it, because almost everyone’s involved, but Dean’s still been too much of a coward to tell her. He knows that he has to one day but not today. To be fair, he also never found the right time to tell her before because she was so preoccupied with organizing a wedding and Dean really didn’t see the point in interfering with her organizing. Didn’t see the point to scare her with it so she would maybe blow the whole thing off. He’ll tell her when the right time comes. He knows he has to.

“Hey,” Cas knocks and opens the door, pulling Dean back from his thoughts.

“Hey Cas,” Dean greets his long time friend. 

Cas walks in, closing the door behind him, and walks over to where Dean’s standing by the window, “How are you?”

Dean snorts, “I’m sweating,” It’s true, he’s sweating bullets and hates the feeling, “You know, I thought the birth of Ella was the only time that I’ll feel like this but no, today is right at the top.” Dean takes a breath, braces his hands on the window sill and looks down, “It’s crazy isn’t it? I wanted this. I wanted everything, I got everything and now I’m about to fucking chicken out.”

“Hey,” Cas hushes, places a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “You’ve got this. I mean, I went through it, you can either. You fucking wimp!”

Dean chuckles at that and then there’s a knock before they both look back to see Sam slipping in. 

Sam looks at both of them, an amused look on his face, “Hey, you’re still here, I thought you’d run for the hills.”

“Well, he’s about to,” Cas grins, “Got here on time to keep him from doing it.”

“I might have something for ya,” Sam wriggles with his eyebrows and produces a flask from his suit jacket. 

“Yes, please,” Dean sighs, takes it and unscrews the flask to take a long swig from it. He squints at the burn and shakes his head as he lets the liquor warm his throat. 

 *

 Dean’s standing in front of the flower arch, Cas and Sam were standing there with him. He looks into the faces of the guest, sees them all smiling back at him, some nodding. There aren’t many, two handfuls at best. 

Y/N told him that she wouldn’t want something big and he agreed. He didn’t want to marry her and make a lavish party out of it. He would have married her in Vegas with the attendance of Elvis, if that’s what she would have wanted. He didn’t actually really care as long as it was him and her. Didn’t care as long as she still wants to. 

He never thought that he’d be so nervous though, never thought that he’d be the one who almost chickens out of something he wanted in the first place. 

Linda’s sitting in the first row, balancing Ella on her lap. And she still frowns at Dean, that woman probably will never get used to him. 

They were doing everything themselves today and every guest takes part in the wedding as they have brought food or baked a cake, Sam offered to be the DJ and Dean’s still not really okay with that. 

It’s crazy how Dean has money to rent out the best location with the best of catering but all Y/N wants is something small in their backyard. Looking at it, Dean’s very happy with her choice. All the people that truly matter to him are here and that’s really the most important thing. 

“You okay, son?” Bobby asks as they are standing next to each other. 

Bobby has gotten ordained so he can perform the little ceremony. He offered it and at first Ash wanted to do it but honestly, if Dean has to choose between Ash or Bobby, the choice is clear. Who knows where Ash would have taken this.

“Okay, here we go,” Ash announces and all the eyes shoot to the back.

Everything and everyone went silent, even the babies who were crying. Or maybe they still did but Dean’s heart is pounding so hard, all he hears is his own heartbeat. He feels hot all of a sudden, and there’s the cold sweat again beading on his forehead. 

He sees her, one hand hooks into Gabe’s arm, the other one holding a small bouquet of flowers. There’s a flower crown on her head. She’s wearing a dress in cream, frilly and lacy. She went out dress shopping last week, and wanted to wait until the last moment because she was sure she would lose some weight and Dean doesn’t even know if she lost the weight she wanted because all he knows is that she looks goddamn beautiful.

And Dean doesn’t want to be that guy, he really didn’t. He doesn’t want to cry as soon as he sees the bride but yet, here he is, grinning like an idiot and swallowing down the tears that built up as soon as he saw her. 

Y/N looks like a waking dream. Something he has anticipated for so long without even knowing it because the good dreams normally got chased away to make room for his nightmares.

Sam squeezes Dean’s shoulder and leans to whisper, “She looks beautiful.”

Dean agrees.

She really does. The prettiest little thing he did ever see. 

He watches her walk down the non-existent aisle, because two rows can’t be counted as an aisle in his opinion, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is how she looks at him when she sees him, how there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, and she bites down on her bottom lip. She’s nervous, he can see that. Well, he knows exactly how she feels. 

Gabe lets go of her and she stands next to Dean now, looking up.

“You look lovely,” He mumbles, had trouble finding the right words.

“Well, you look hot,” She grins, and Dean almost has to laugh out loud. 

“I’m not allowed to kiss you yet, am I?” Dean whispers again, is already halfway to do it but then he stops himself. 

Before she could answer him, Bobby takes the lead. 

They didn’t exchange vows, neither did they exchange rings. They both have one and that’s more than enough. They’ve talked about the vows thoroughly, and they both agree that they didn’t need anyone to know their feelings or promises for each other. It’s something between the both of them.

“You may now kiss the bride, son.” Bobby announces with a big smile on his face. 

“Jesus,” Dean rolls his eyes with a sigh, “Fucking finally,” 

Everyone laughs, including Y/N and he weaves his arm around her waist, pulls her closer. She locks her arms around his neck, and Dean looks down, sees her smiling back at him. “Hi Mrs. Winchester,”

“Hello Mr. Winchester,” She winks and laughs, “Now please kiss me, I’m dying here.”

“Always so bossy,” Dean chuckles, and he finally bends down, kisses her. The tense in his body’s gone.

The people around them were cheering but Dean tunes that out, doesn’t hear it. All he hears is his heart that still thumbs ridiculously fast. Dean breaks the kiss after a while, even though he didn’t want to but he guesses that they need to carry on with the day. He pecks her lips once more, though, for good measure and whispers to her, “You’ve had whiskey,”

She grins mischievously, “You too.” 

Dean snorts, “Not gonna lie, almost chickened out.”

“Me too,” She says and nuzzles her face into the crook of his neck as they both laugh. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, we could have eloped, have taken Ella and drove.” 

“I didn’t spend so much time planning it to be running away from it.” She looks up at him. 

He shrugs, “Fair point,” Before he takes her hand, and together they walk to their terrace where all of the people were already waiting, having made room for them and left them some privacy after the ceremony. 

 *

 Y/N draws a bath while Dean’s feeding Ella. The little girl’s on formula now and it actually makes things so much easier. Dean can now get up and take care of Ella and let Y/N sleep. They’re more relaxed since the change, and Y/N’s more content either. She’s had trouble with nursing for the first two months where she didn’t produce enough milk and there was a lot of crying. When they introduced Ella to weaning, they also introduced her to formula. It was the best decision, really and Dean thought that they should have made the choice sooner. They could have spared Y/N from a lot of heartache.

Dean felt helpless during that time, and Y/N felt like a failure, they were both miserable for a long time until she came to him and gestures with her hand before she started to babble, “Screw all the perfect moms, I’m not perfect and that’s okay. My body can’t give her what she needs but that doesn’t mean that I’m not a good mom.” 

And he couldn’t agree more with that. Had to talk her into it either because she told him that he should back her up on her decision and honestly, Dean agrees with whatever she wants because she knows her own body better than he does when it comes to breastfeeding. He can’t imagine going through all the hardships of it in the first place. The whole process was draining from the start with raw bloody nipples and leaking and painful breasts. Apparently breastfeeding is not for everyone, and if someone can’t do it, doesn’t really mean that they are a failure or a bad mom because of it. 

After the feeding, Y/N takes Ella from Dean and he kisses his girl good night. Dean takes off his clothes, and gets into the tub, leans his head back and closes his eyes.

He’s almost drifting off when Y/N pokes her head in, “Hey,”

She’s smiling at him, still wearing one of his plaid shirts, even if she doesn’t have to nurse Ella anymore. Dean doesn’t complain, he loves the look on her. 

“Is there room for me?” She unbuttons her shirt and takes it off, lets it pool around her ankle before she hooks her fingers through the waistband of her panties, slides them down too. 

“There’s always room for you,” Dean says in a low voice and she comes over stands naked next to the tub and the sight makes his heart beat just a little faster. 

He’s hard too, can not get hard when he sees her, a thing he both loves and hates at the same time. 

She gets in, sits on his lap and rests her head on his shoulder. Dean hugs her in the water, trails his fingertips along her body and she wiggles in his laps, feels his hard cock too. 

Her face is a little flush and the way she grinds down on him, Dean knows that she’s aroused. Apparently, he does the same thing to her like she does to him, she told him once. 

Dean kisses along her shoulder, noses behind her ear. 

“Are we supposed to consummate our marriage now?” She asks.

He chuckles before kissing the sensitive place at the back of her ear. “We don’t have to do anything, and honestly, I’m beat, even if my body doesn’t show it.”

“Oh, thank god,” She sighs, “I’m exhausted either.”

They both have to laugh, and she turns her head back, kissing him. It’s all gentle and soft before it starts to grow heavier. 

“Baby, you shouldn’t start anything you can’t finish.” Dean warns her, because even if he’s beat, the way she kisses him pushes at all his right buttons. 

“‘M sorry,” She says and turns back, but she can’t stop grinding down on him. 

“Baby,” 

“I know,” She lets out a frustrated sigh, “Like, I’m really tired but what if you just put it in, I just want to feel you inside.”

Dean’s eyebrow climbs up his forehead, “You sure?” 

She turns her head back to him, her bottom lip between her teeth and there’s a smile. “Please?”

“You know that I can never say no to you, right? I think you’re misusing your power over me.”

Snorting out a laugh, she kisses the tip of his nose before she lifts her ass up a little to position his dick at her entrance. Slowly she sits down and Dean has to hold in his breath at how fucking good it felt.

But she was true to her words, because she doesn’t move, leans her head back to rest against his shoulder. Dean should mind though, he hates to be teased like this. It’s perfect as it is, though, and strangely, he doesn’t even want more.

He trails his knuckles along her arms, “How are you feeling?”

“Good, just really tired.” 

“Me too. Who would have thought that getting married would be so exhausting, huh?”

“Yeah,” She agrees and Dean places a kiss on her temple. 

Dean leaves his lips on her temple, mumbles into the kiss, “Okay, I think I’m ready to say my vows, you wanna hear it?” 

Y/N looks back and up to him, smiling at him warmly, “Of course,”

“Okay,” Dean clears his throat, and he feels his heart picking up speed again, “You looked so beautiful to me today, but you should know that you always look beautiful to me, and you will always look beautiful. Even when you just wake up and according to you, you look like a truck ran you over. But that’s not true. That’s not what I see when I see you. You’ll look beautiful no matter what, and not only today. Tomorrow too, and the next day, and the day after the next,”

“You’re making me blush,” She says, and turns in his lap enough to be able to bury her face into the crook of his neck.

“Good,” Dean chuckles, before he goes on, “You know that I’ll always be here, right? Always going to be here along the way. I’ll stay beside you, and I’m always here if you need someone to talk, if you need someone to cuddle, even if you need someone to let your frustrations out on. And I vow to stay. Not only because I don’t have anywhere else to go but also because this is it for me. You are it. You’re my home. This is what I always wanted and I didn’t even realize it. If someone would ask to close my eyes and picture happiness, all I see is you and there’s Ella, Truffles too, if he behaves, and Bubbles can go get lost.”

“Hey!” She swats one hand against his chest, splashing water into his face. 

“That cat hates me.”

“No it doesn’t.” She’s laughing now and it’s good, Dean thinks. The laughter doesn’t make him tear up as much as he wants to. 

“Can I tell you something?” She says then and Dean nods, not without kissing the top of her head. 

“Anything,”

“I know that I’m not always easy, I might not always be what you want me to be,”

Dean opens his mouth to protest because she’s basically everything he wants her to be but she hushes him with a glare.

“Okay, I might not always be the best of what I want myself to be. I have doubts, I have insecurities,” Dean nods at that, because she always set such high standards for herself, it sometimes drives him nuts. 

“And I might not always agree with you all the time because I’m stubborn,” 

Dean snorts out a “Yeah,” And she rolls her eyes at that. 

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I might not be perfect, but I vow that I’ll always love you. I love you not only for what you are but also for what you make me, and that is the best possible I can be, and as much as you’re keeping me, Dean? I’m keeping you. You won’t get rid of me that easily Mr. Winchester,” She chuckles and looks up, kissing his scruff.

“Not that I want to, Mrs. Winchester,” Dean mumbles, and leans down to nose at her cheek, kisses her and she kisses him back, smiles against his lips. 

CH08