#but when we were like just walking around town he started making these weird comments yknow

[hel7l7]

I'm too forgiving. I know.

[bloodynereid]

Those Sunlit Kisses

part 2 here ! part 3 here! and part 4 here!

pairing: robert 'rosie' rosenthal x oc (lucy everett)

tw: mentions of war, alcohol drinking, death, mentions of nazis and hitler, domestic fluff, flirting, kissing, angsty ending-ish

description: a young man and woman meet while they're on a forced break and end up spending a weekend together.

a/n: so... this fic has sort of invaded my life these last few days and it's longer than i thought it would be (12k is insane). i've sort of become attached to it in a weird way ??? idk when you write something as a coping mechanism it sticks with you. i sort of have a plan for how this universe will work so there will probably be a few little fics that happen within it, look out for those! also this was lowkey inspired by before sunrise (haven't watched it but i've seen enough edits) and since we know real rosie fell in love and married his wife within like 3 days this is hopefully not all that ooc. ANYWAYS i hope you enjoy this and pls let me know your thoughts or if you want to send in any asks about lucy they are all welcome in my inbox! OH and this isn't about the real rosie, just the fictional character portrayed by nate mann (*swoon*). and to cut off this insanely long author's note, thank you for reading <333

Rosie rested his head against the cool window, the train was hot. It was almost too hot. How Britain had turned from a pea soup to a tropical country is beyond him. He had been forced to take leave… again. So he booked a little place by the beach, far away from basically everything and he felt tentatively excited.

The thin pages of The Great Gatsby turned in his hands, it almost felt too sticky to read but he hadn’t brought anything else with him, and he didn’t feel content by just looking out of the window.

Rosie didn’t like to take breaks but he knew he needed one after the last mission. His new crew was almost too different. He never faulted anyone for not reuping but it was still strange. So after another successful ten missions he was sent off. At least he wasn’t sent to the Flak House again.

The train finally ambled to a stop and Rosie caught a glimpse of the town name, this was his stop. Quickly grabbing the sparse luggage he had brought with him, Rosie walked off the train and onto the tiny platform. The loud whistle made him jump as the train started to move away.

At least he was finally here.

Lucy was daydreaming again. The taste of pencil filled her mouth as she nervously bit down on the wood. She was feeling better, better than she had in a while but she still felt like she was missing, well, everything.

She had just spent the past few weeks researching and slaving over an article on Hitler’s propaganda and it was a good article. Maybe even a great one, but the years spent working on articles about that vile monster were taking their toll on her.

Lucy could distinctly remember when her editor called her into his office after she had snapped at one of the top correspondents who made a comment about women belonging in the kitchen. 

“I can’t have this anymore. Do you understand what I’m risking by even having a woman on my team? You may be good, but you’re not that good. Now take a damn break before I have to bar you from this bloody office!” 

She understood that it was for her own good but his words stung. It irked her that a man was making her take a break when he would let any of her male counterparts strut around doing whatever they pleased and yelling at secretaries.

So Lucy booked a ticket and left on the afternoon train headed for her hometown. A place almost completely untouched by war… at least for now. She had spent the first few days in bed, trying to recover from the complete exhaustion that five years of war had wrought on her. Lucy also spent that time remembering.

Her parents had died a few months before Hitler invaded Poland. They passed away within weeks of each other in the same house that Lucy was in now. She was almost glad that they didn’t have to experience another war, even if she missed them more than she could handle sometimes.

Her father had risen through the ranks in the Great War, eventually becoming a Colonel and earning a few medals for his service. Lucy’s mother was a singer, she had met and fallen in love with John Everett during one of her performances when she caught his eye from across the room. Diana Everett always insisted it was love at first sight.

They were loving parents and did what they could to make Lucy’s childhood a happy one. Always aiding her in any of her hobbies, and allowing her to pursue her dream of becoming a journalist, even at a time when women were expected to go into gentler trades.

Lucy’s father was the one to die first, he had had a bad cough when Lucy first left for London and that quickly evolved into something worse. Lucy was able to make it back for the funeral and she spent the next few weeks watching as her mother became a shell of herself. One day she just found her mother lying in bed clutching a photo of her late husband and no longer breathing.

The doctors said she died of a heart attack but Lucy knew it was from a broken heart. The entire experience nearly shattered Lucy, she barely cried at either funeral and threw herself into her work, slowly getting more and more recognition for her radical articles informing the British people about the Nazis and Hitler.

But during those first few days at her childhood home, Lucy finally allowed herself to crack. She spent hours writing in her personal diary and crying more tears than she thought possible. Until Friday, when she finally made the decision to pull herself together, she still felt lost but at least she was writing something other than distressing poetry.

So now Lucy sat at her desk, the end of a pencil resting on her lips and the start of a rough outline of a story in front of her. It was a new day.

The smell of the sea filled Rosie’s senses, it felt strange to be walking through a town that looked normal, with no gaping wounds left by bombings. It gave him a renewed sense of duty, places like this needed to be kept safe from the monsters.

He had rented a little room in a B&B ten minutes from the beach. It was nestled between two colorful houses, one painted light green and the other white with a wash of blue. He overheard the sounds of jazz echoing from the blue one, and the soft tones of a woman singing along.

Rosie’s face broke out into a smile and he started humming before looking back at the B&B and heading into the cozy atmosphere. An old woman with a cheerful smile greeted him and took one look at his uniform before upgrading him to one of the larger rooms. He thanked her profusely before heading up the creaking staircase and depositing his luggage onto the quilt-covered bed.

After a few hours of work on the short story, Lucy needed a break and the outside was calling to her. Boiling some water in her favorite kettle, she put on a record and started to hum and eventually sing to one of her mum’s favorite songs.

Once the water was boiled, Lucy carefully went through the motions of pouring it over the Earl Gray leaves in the teapot and letting it steep for a while before straining it into a cup and pouring a splash of milk over it. All the while singing just like her mother used to do when she prepared tea for her.

Armed with a book and a steaming cup of tea, Lucy opened the front door of the house and sat on the porch swing. Carefully placing the cup on the side table and opening up the first pages of her book, Lucy looked around at the front garden. She could almost hear the sounds of joyful laughter and screams from her childhood when she used to play with the neighborhood kids on that very lawn. 

With her bare feet up on the porch swing and the milky goodness of tea in her mouth, Lucy started to read the first pages of The Great Gatsby, and settled in for a book she had been waiting too long to read.

Rosie had changed into his civies before grabbing a spare towel and his book. He had to stop the owner for directions to the beach but other than that he was excited to see the ocean, and experience the sun for the first time in a long while.

As he headed down the street he was surprised to find a woman sitting on the porch of the blue house he had seen earlier. Her blonde hair was curled around her face and she was wearing an outfit similar to his own - a blue button down shirt and loose black pants. In her hands was a copy of a book that was identical to one he held in his hand.

All Rosie could think about was that she was beautiful. He was openly gaping in the middle of a sidewalk because a woman he didn’t even know had completely enraptured him. Shaking himself out of his reverie after he realized just how long he had been staring at her, he was almost tempted to say something, anything. Just to have her look at him.

He just couldn’t get his mouth to form the words. Rosie had always been a shy person, especially as a kid but it seemed like all those years of shyness were finally catching up to him. So instead of saying anything, Rosie just turned and walked over to the beach. His knuckles clenched around his own copy of The Great Gatsby, imagining the ways that he could approach the beautiful woman of the blue house and how the conversation would go.

Maybe he could ask her about the book, or the music streaming out of her window. Maybe he could ask her out to dinner or… suddenly Rosie’s thought process stopped short when he had the awful realization that the woman could be married. He hadn’t even realized he had made it to the beach when the sand crunched under foot and he was thrown off balance. Taking a few moments to steady himself he walked along until he found a sand dune that looked nice enough. All the while thinking of all the ways the blonde beauty could reject him.

Rosie had now convinced himself it would be the worst idea on Earth to even approach her, so he settled onto his blanket and cracked open his book. Allowing for the sun to finally seep into his pores and getting lost in the pages of Gatsby’s own romantic woes.

After all the tea was drunk and Lucy had gotten through quite a bit of The Great Gatsby, she decided to get back to writing. Instead of going inside Lucy quickly grabbed a picnic blanket and spread it out in the front lawn. The outline for her short story was coming along nicely and she needed sun after spending the last five years under a constant cover of smog and rain in London. 

She also managed to make a couple of sandwiches to serve as her lunch and spread herself out onto the soft fabric of the blanket. Squinting her eyes in the sun she started to elaborate a bit more on the brother in her story, ruminating about how she would have loved to have siblings.

Once she had completed half of the outline, Lucy’s eyes travelled from the cream page to the sidewalk, where a few mothers were milling around with their children. Pushing them in prams or trying to balance picnic baskets and food as the kids ran circles around them. A warm smile spread itself across Lucy’s face, this town was like her little corner of heaven.

It was mid afternoon when she first spotted him, Lucy had abandoned her writing a while ago in favor of people watching and basking in the rays of sun. She could have gone to the beach, but she couldn’t be bothered to move from her lawn where the sun was hitting just right.

The man looked about her age, he was wearing civilian clothes but he had an air about him that made Lucy think he was at least part of some branch of the military. He had dark curly hair and a mustache and he looked like an angel sent down from heaven. In his hand, Lucy spied a copy of the very book sitting next to her and a towel covered in sand. He must have been at the beach.

Lucy knew she was blatantly staring but he was just so pretty. She was used to the men that made up her London office, balding and sexist, who flirted with her like she was an object to be used. So whenever she ventured out into the real world Lucy was basically set in a tailspin by the array of people that interested her, and for some reason this strange man made her heart skip a beat.

Almost like she had wished it to happen, the man caught her stare and smiled shyly. Bringing up his free hand in an awkward wave. Cute. In return, Lucy beamed at him and waved back, before quickly grabbing her copy of The Great Gatsby and lifting it up.

Rosie headed back from the beach feeling renewed, and he was also hopeful that he might get another glance at the beautiful blonde from the blue house. Ever lost in his thoughts, Rosie didn’t even realize he was on the sidewalk that led to his B&B until he caught the glance of the woman from the porch… except this time she was lying on a blanket in the middle of the yard. 

He smiled at her when he realized she was staring at him, at him! Then he did the stupidest thing he could think of and waved. Rosie started to berate himself for how idiotic he was being when the blonde waved back and smiled at him with a smile that had his breath catching.

A moment later she held up her book, a copy of which he was also carrying, and he smiled even more broadly.

“Good book?” She called out to him with a voice that reminded him of the movies. A crisp British accent laced with laughter.

“It sure is.” Rosie answered, almost feeling slightly ashamed of his American accent which sounded so much more grating in comparison to hers. 

“I’m Lucy!” The woman said, standing up and brushing herself off as she walked over to the whitewashed fence so she was now only a meter away from Rosie. How he wished she was even closer.

“I’m Rosie.”

“Ah, an American. I knew it!” Rosie blushed and ducked his head in embarrassment. “Hey! I never said it was a bad thing. It’s nice to meet you, Rosie. You have a pretty accent.”

“I think that’s the first time one of you Brits has ever said that to me.”

“We haven’t been very welcoming, have we? Well that must be remedied instantly! How have you been enjoying good ol’ Britain?” Rosie felt like he was watching a band play the most incredible set, Lucy talked like she could charm the entire air force in just seconds.

“First time I’ve seen the sun in years.” Rosie said, exaggerating the comment by squinting at her, making Lucy laugh - the sound making a blush spread across Rosie’s face, he wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life. 

“You and me both. I like to think of it as one of Britain's charms but it does get rather melancholic, don’t you think? Where are you usually stationed, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Thorpe Abbotts, I’m one of the pilots.”

“A fighter pilot?”

“Oh dear God no. I pilot B-17s.”

“Ah the big birds, that suits you better I would say.” Rosie inclined his head in agreement which had Lucy smiling at him. 

“I’m a war correspondent - although I haven’t been on the front lines quite yet. My editor still has rather old-fashioned beliefs about women and war.” Lucy’s eyes dimmed at the last part which had Rosie wincing.

“They should feel lucky to have you, not the other way around.” Blush covered Lucy’s cheeks at his statement and Rosie felt himself smile triumphantly.

“Oh you charmer. Would you like to come in for some tea or water, maybe?”

“That would be wonderful.”

Lucy felt a certain giddiness encasing her body, she never did this. She never invited strange men, albeit handsome strange men, into her home and yet she was doing this. At least he didn’t seem like an axe murderer, and he was an American! Mostly she was just trying to overcome the nerves of having someone she actually liked showing interest in her.

Rosie quickly followed her into the house, helping her carry the picnic blanket she had been using as well as all her writing materials. So he truly was a gentleman after all.

The record had stopped spinning a while ago so when Lucy saw Rosie eying the player she quickly took the blanket and papers out of his hands.

“Why don’t you put on some music? I need to put these things away anyways.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go right ahead.” Rosie smiled gratefully and walked over to the record player, Lucy watched him flick through the various options and let herself smile. She needed some good in her life, she was going to let herself have this, even if it’s only for a few hours.

Turning around, Lucy folded the blanket and set it on one of the wooden chairs by the door, placing the book on top of it before bounding over to the study and placing the sheets of paper into a neat pile next to the typewriter. The sounds of Artie Shaw suddenly filled the atmosphere and Lucy quickly walked back over to the living room, making the creaks of the wooden floor boards alert her presence.

Lucy found Rosie staring out of the window and tapping on the frame in time with the music. He looked completely lost in thought that Lucy almost felt bad disturbing him.

“Rosie?”

“Hmm?”

“Water?”

“I would love some.” Rosie said as he turned from the window and smiled at Lucy, her nerves of bothering him dissipating in an instant when he set his gray eyes on hers. “Do you need any help getting it?”

“No, just keep choosing good music and we should be fine.” Lucy turned to get to the kitchen and grabbed a few glasses as Rosie trailed in behind her. Leaning against the door frame as he watched her move around the kitchen. 

“You have a great collection.”

“That would be my parents’ accomplishment. They drilled good music taste into me.” Lucy said with a sad smile on her face as she poured out some water from one of the pitchers.

“My mom was the same way. The one problem is that I am in no way musically inclined, I just know what sounds good.”

“Have you tried to sing?” Lucy asked with a teasing smile as she passed him the glass.

“Oh I have, you do not want to be there when that happens.”

“How bad?”

“Horrifying. I sound like a dying goat.” They both burst out laughing and Lucy felt a warm feeling spread through her limbs, it almost felt like she was being doused in joy.

“I cannot wait for the day when I hear you sing.”

“Why? So you can ridicule me? That will not be happening in a million years, ma’am.”

“I would never ridicule you! How can you think so lowly of me?”

“I barely even know you-”

“Exactly.” Lucy interrupted with a serious look on her face that had Rosie chuckling again. They quieted down into a comfortable silence as they each took little sips of water every now and then, just watching the way the other person reacted.

“How are you liking the book?” Rosie finally asked.

“I’m enjoying it, it isn’t the kind of book I usually pick up but it’s a nice reminder of a time when war wasn’t a part of daily life. I do have to say though, you Americans are quite strange.”

“I feel like I should rebuke that but it’s the truth. Doesn’t it almost feel like the book was set in a completely different world?”

“Yes!” Lucy fervently agreed as they started to drift back towards the living room, settling into the worn couch.

Over the next few hours, Lucy and Rosie inched closer and closer together on the couch. They talked about everything under the sun; their lives, their favorite books, pictures, music, war and their lives before it all. Lucy let Rosie take charge of the music and their conversation was soundtracked by various jazz hits and whatever obscure artist Rosie seemed to find fascinating in her collection.

Eventually the conversation turned to family and Lucy avidly started to talk about her parents, a subject which she almost never discussed with anyone she had just met.

“So yeah my mum met my dad at one of the pubs she was performing at and the rest is history.”

“Well now I have to get you to sing, it must run in the family! And it’s only fair.”

“Hey! That was a joke.” Lucy screeched, she never liked singing in front of other people she preferred doing it in the comfort of her own home and doing it alone.

“Aha so you do admit you were trying to ridicule me!” Rosie said triumphantly as he pointed at Lucy, making her face twist in complete disbelief.

“That is what you got from that?”

“Well it’s the truth isn’t it?”

“It is not! And I will not sing for you.”

“One day you will.”

“Will not.”

“Will.”

“You stupid, stubborn man.” Lucy said poking at Rosie’s shoulder, making him devolve into hysterics which had Lucy smiling stupidly at the man in front of her. The butterflies in her stomach hadn’t really gone away the entire time she had been talking to him, they had somehow managed to get worse.

That was when she realized how late it had gotten, the sun was just beginning to set and the living room was set alight with the glowing colors of the sky.

“Oh dear, I have kept you too late. You don’t have somewhere to be, do you?” Lucy asked nervously, once Rosie had started to calm down.

“No, no, not at all. I didn’t have much time to make any plans before I came here.”

“Well in that case how would you like to have dinner with me?” Lucy didn’t show it but she was practically buzzing with nerves - hoping and praying that he would say yes.

“Are you kidding?” Rosie was looking at Lucy with a completely gobsmacked expression on his face that had Lucy wondering if he truly thought she was messing with him.

“Not at all.”

“Well, in that case, I would love to have dinner with you.”

“Uh- wonderful. I haven’t cooked anything so you wouldn’t mind going out, do you?”

“Of course not, it would be a good opportunity to explore the town.”

“I’ll just grab my coat and we can go?” Lucy asked tentatively and Rosie nodded before settling back into the couch. Lucy yelled out a quick ‘I’ll be right back’ and disappeared into the hallways of the house.

Rosie felt like he was in paradise. Who would have known that going on mandatory leave would get him this? He wasn’t sure he had ever bonded with someone as quickly as he had bonded with Lucy. It was as if they were twin souls, linked so that it was inevitable that they would meet at one point or another.

The light in the living room changed as the sun started to set, it played with the shadows on the walls and highlighted the framed photographs and art which told a story of a happy childhood and a happy family. It reminded him of his own childhood home. Rosie hadn’t even realized how much he had missed laughing. Something that suddenly just became so easy around Lucy.

Rosie had to give it to his self-restraint, he somehow managed not to kiss Lucy even though many a time in the past few hours he fantasized of brushing his hands through her blonde curls and kissing her like his life depended on it.

“Rosie? Do you want me to find you a coat?” A muffled yell was heard from somewhere upstairs which had him looking up towards the ceiling.

“No, I think I should be fine!” Rosie yelled back.

“Are you sure? I can probably find something that fits you.”

“I’m sure it’s not that cold, Lucy.”

“Okay! Don’t go around blaming me when you’re freezing to death.”

Shaking his head in mock resolution and quietly chuckling, Rosie stood up from his place on the green couch and went to pick up his copy of The Great Gatsby and the towel he had brought with him all those hours ago. But he stopped short when he saw Lucy’s own copy haphazardly strewn on one of the wooden chairs that seemed to be scattered throughout the house. With a sly smile, Rosie left the book and walked towards the front door, empty handed.

“Hi! Sorry that took so long. My hair was a mess, are you ready?” Lucy quickly said as she basically ran down the stairs, a motion that had Rosie’s hair raising in alarm - worried that she would somehow trip and fall to a quick death.

“You’re going to crack your head open one of these days if you keep going down stairs that quickly.” Rosie said when she finally reached the bottom and went to grab her purse from the side table.

“I know those stairs like the back of my hand, Rosie. If I ever trip and fall I’m blaming your handsome face.” Rosie made an expression of mock horror, but inside he felt like a stupid teenager.

“I’m offended by such an allegation. It would be your fault for getting distracted.” Lucy hummed back in mock reply before opening the door and walking out into the brisk night air, which had Rosie quickly following after her.

“Milady.” Rosie said, as he offered his arm to Lucy once she had shut and locked the door. Lucy beamed at him before slipping her arm around his, physically linking them together.

“Alright, I know this little Italian place that a friend’s family owns. How does that sound?”

“Perfect. I’ve been eating army rations for the past few years, anything that isn’t that sounds incredible.”

The pair roamed through the cobbled streets, in search of the little alleyway that housed the restaurant and basking in each other’s presence. When they finally arrived at the quaint little restaurant, Rosie was surprised to see that there were various other couples seated and eating Italian dishes.

“Lucy! You didn’t tell us you were back in town.” Said a voice from behind the counter, it belonged to a tall, brunette woman whose hair was tied back into an elaborate bun. 

“Hi, Renata! Yeah, sorry, this was a last minute thing. How have you been?”

“Good, good. Now who is this handsome man?”

“Major Rosenthal, ma’am.”

“How did you bag this one, Lucy?” The brunette asked, making a blush creep up over both of Lucy and Rosie’s faces. 

“Renata…”

“Fine! I won’t ask anymore questions. A table for two, I presume? We have a nice one close to the back.”

“That sounds great.”

Rosie spent the next hour eating the best spaghetti he had ever eaten and staring at the woman he seemed to be quickly falling in love with. They seemed to never run out of topics of conversation, cycling through enough to fill an entire encyclopedia. Rosie learnt a lot more about the British news field than he had ever thought was possible and in turn Lucy seemed enraptured whenever he talked about flying.

They stayed until it was almost closing time,when Renata basically pushed them out and gave them a complimentary bottle of wine, which had Lucy blushing in embarrassment and Rosie laughing. Somehow the night air was still warm, even though the sun had long set and the world had started to fall asleep.

“I’m glad I met you Rosie.” Lucy finally ventured, after they had been walking for a while in complete silence. Just letting the energy of the day seep in.

“Me too. I never in a million years would have thought I would meet someone like you.”

“You really do have a way with words, Major. Have you ever thought of becoming a poet?”

“I will leave all the writing to you, sweetheart.”

“This is it.” Lucy muttered once they had arrived back at the blue house at the end of the street.

“And that would be me.” Rosie said, pointing at the B&B next to the house.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You can bet on it, Lucy.”

“Great.” Lucy whispered the first word as Rosie started to move closer and closer to her. He felt a wave of dizziness hit him, but he carefully placed both of his hands on her cheeks and stroked the soft skin.

“I’m really glad I met you too, Lucy.” Rosie muttered before surging forward and finally doing what he had been meaning to do for the past few hours. He kissed her with such intensity that it caught Lucy off guard. She stood still for a few moments before kissing him back with the same intensity and love that he was emphasizing in that kiss.

Lucy tangled her hands in his brown curls and felt the world just go still. For the first time in a long while. They stayed like that, kissing and holding each other until they heard the distant sounds of a baby crying.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Rosie asked once they broke apart.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Lucy basically screeched in happiness once she had shut the door behind her. She finally understood what her mum was talking about when she talked about love at first sight. Rosie was her dream man, someone she didn’t even realize she had been looking for.

After carefully putting everything away and changing into her nightgown, Lucy settled into the comfort of her own bed and started to write lines upon lines about Rosie. She had filled up nearly two pages of her diary when her eyelids began to droop. It was almost midnight and she needed to be refreshed for tomorrow so she quickly signed off and pulled the covers over her body - allowing for sleep to pull her into its warm embrace.

The morning sun streamed through her window and softly woke Lucy up. Her relaxed joints groaned as she stretched and enjoyed the feeling of summer and sleep on her skin. Yesterday morning seemed like a distant memory. The darkness that usually invaded her waking hours felt almost less. Lucy had an excited thrill running through her body as she stretched.

Urging herself out of bed, Lucy slipped a robe over her nightgown and tied the sashes together loosely. The stairs creaked as her socked feet went down them and she was reminded of Rosie and his little comment about being careful. It was almost like this house was being reawakened with memories of the living, instead of being haunted by the ghosts of the past.

Once she arrived at the kitchen, Lucy started to go through her morning motions. Brewing a cup of Earl Gray tea, toasting some bread and starting to fry up some eggs. She was in the middle of beating the eggs together when a loud knock echoed through the house.

“There is no way that could be Rosie… could it?” Lucy wondered aloud, as she dried her hands on a tea towel and headed to answer the door. She turned the handle and pulled the door open to find that it was indeed Rosie. He was standing on the porch in civilian clothes again, his hair seemed a little less ordered than it was the day before and the morning sun was carefully lighting his face.

Lucy’s face broke out into a smile and Rosie returned it, before he carefully scanned her up and down and realized she was still in her nightgown. It was a long lacy and cotton thing that was only slightly covered by her robe. A light blush dusted his cheeks as he tried to focus on her face.

“Good morning. I hope I’m not disturbing…”

“Not all! Come, come. I’m just making breakfast.” Lucy stepped from out of the door frame, allowing for Rosie to walk into the house. She smiled and tried to contain her excitement as she focused on closing the door.

“Have you had anything to eat yet?” Lucy asked once she turned around and saw that Rosie was looking at her, he had a twinkle in his eye that wasn’t there a moment before and it made a surge of electricity run up her spine.

“I had some things at the B&B.”

“Alright, can I interest you in a cup of tea then?” 

“Actually…” Rosie took a step closer to Lucy, making her raise her eyebrows in question. “I think I would like to do this first.”

Rosie pushed a stray curl away from her face and tucked it behind her ear before gently pressing his lips to hers. Lucy’s eyelids fell shut and she threw her arms around his neck, allowing herself to be swept away by the sensation. Once they drew apart, Lucy scrunched her nose up and looked at the handsome man in front of her.

“Well aren’t you presumptuous? Coming all the way here in the early morning just to kiss me.”

“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I met you, I think it was warranted.” Rosie said with a shrug as he looked at Lucy adoringly, stroking his knuckles against the apple of her cheek.

“Flirt.”

“You love it.”

“I’m not gracing that with a response, now come. I don’t want my tea to get cold.” Lucy entwined her hand with his and started to pull Rosie in the direction of the kitchen, he was all too happy to follow her command.

Rosie watched from one of the wooden chairs as Lucy busied herself with making breakfast. She was as graceful as a dancer, she seemed to have the routine nailed down to a ‘T’.

“Here.” Lucy said, as she carefully placed a cup of steaming hot tea in front of Rosie. “Let me know what you think.”

Rosie gingerly rose the mug to his lips and blew on the milky liquid. It smelled incredible, he usually just drank the weak coffee at base but this smelt like something out of a bakery. Then he took a sip and instead of tasting something incredible, it almost tasted flat. In an effort to not disappoint the woman in front of him, Rosie forced a smile and fake hummed in delight.

“You hate it.” Lucy said with a laugh, which instantly had Rosie’s façade falling and he too was laughing.

“I’m an American, what can I say?”

“I’ll excuse it. Here I just finished mine so I can drink the rest. No need for it to go to waste.” Lucy placed her hands over his and Rosie felt the familiar spark in his body that was elicited by being able to touch her. His beautiful Lucy.

“I’m sorry.” Rosie said once Lucy started to take moderated sips of the beverage.

“Don’t apologize, I, for one, hate the taste of coffee so I think we can move on from this.” Rosie’s face turned scandalized for a moment but he quickly schooled his expression and nodded seriously, making Lucy snort and continue drinking her tea before turning to stir the eggs in the frying pan.

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

“Yes. Mrs. Sloane gave me plenty.” Rosie distinctly remembered the large feast the owner had prepared, it was almost too much to handle but she had been intent on doing it so he didn’t stop her.

“She’s wonderful, isn’t she? She used to babysit me when I was younger. I was supposedly a very difficult child.” Lucy muttered as she plated her breakfast and sat across from Rosie at the breakfast table.

“I don’t believe that, you seem like an angel.”

“Oh no I was very much a devil child. The amount of times I was lost in the sand dunes is beyond count.” Rosie guffawed and watched Lucy as she scooped up pieces of scrambled eggs with her unbuttered toast.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I did, you?” Lucy asked, after taking a few bites of her toast. Rosie nodded and stretched over the table to tuck an errant curl behind her ear, seeing as a light blush covered Lucy’s face.

“Do you have any plans for today?”

“Nope. I was going to write but I think there is something else I would much rather be doing.”

“And what would that be?” Rosie asked with a smirk starting to spread across his face, he liked getting to tease her. To see what he could say to get Lucy all flustered.

“You’re really going to make me say it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Fine, Major. I want to spend it with you.” Lucy said quickly, relenting under Rosie’s teasing glare.

“Good, because I have no plans.”

“Great.” Lucy nodded resolutely and then stood up to put the dishes in the sink. Rosie watched her as the fabric of her robe swayed around her. He stood up from his seat and walked up behind her, carefully placing his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her head.

“Hello there?”

“You look beautiful.”

“Do I?”

“Hmmm.”

“Rosie, I need to wash the dishes.”

“Just stay with me for a moment, then you can wash the dishes.” Lucy turned around so Rosie was staring into those deep brown eyes he loved.

“What are we doing, Rosie?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean with us. I’m assuming you will have to leave soon and I have to get back to London. I want this to be good but I can’t- I don’t deal well with loss, Rosie.” Lucy muttered, making Rosie’s heart almost break in half. He stood slightly speechless for a few moments as Lucy took to rearranging his hair. Rosie hadn’t even realized that this would all end soon. He didn’t realize he would have to leave her so soon.

“We’ll write and I promise I will do everything in my power to keep coming back. I want whatever this is, Lucy. Darling, I haven’t felt like this ever. I don’t want to lose you, even if I have just met you.”

“So we do this. We promise we will come back to each other.”

“Yes. And I get to call you mine.”

“Rosie, I- alright. Let’s do this. I’m in.”

“Good, because I was all in the moment I saw that beautiful face from across the lawn.” Lucy giggled and suddenly rested her head against his chest. Rosie was sure she could feel the thudding of his heart, so he wrapped her up in his arms and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Lucy’s arms circled his middle and they stayed like that for a few long moments.

“What do you want to do today?” Rosie heard Lucy mutter against the fabric of his shirt, her hot breath making shivers run up his spine.

“Whatever you would like.”

“Does a picnic sound nice?”

“That sounds lovely.” Lucy started to unwind her arms and Rosie already started to miss the weight of her against him.

“I would need to get changed.” Rosie watched Lucy motioned at her clothes and smiled at the devastated expression on his face.

“Do you really?”

“Yes, you menace!” Rosie laughed at the scandalized expression on Lucy’s face.

“Fine, fine. I’ll start on the dishes.”

“Rosie… you don’t have to.”

“I want to. Now shoo, before I don’t let you get dressed.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Watch me.” Rosie said, ducking his head so he was looking at Lucy through his eyebrows. She just rolled her eyes and pulled herself away from his arms, but not before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Rosie smiled as he watched her walk away from him, he knew he was beyond smitten.

Lucy was desperately searching for something to wear when the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald filtered in from downstairs. Rosie had put on music, and she could distantly hear him humming to himself over the rush of water.

Staring at the closer, Lucy realized that all her clothes suddenly seemed too ugly to work, she wanted to dress up enough that she looked nice but also didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard. Why is this so complicated?

Huffing, Lucy finally pulled out a dark pink dress she hadn’t worn since before the war. It was made of cotton and she knew it looked good on her… five years ago. There was no fault in trying it on so Lucy quickly changed out of her nightgown and buttoned up the cotton dress up. Fluffing up her curls, Lucy carefully folded the strewn clothes and arranged the closet.

She knew she was probably just trying to procrastinate going downstairs when Lucy started to smooth out the fabric of her dress for the fifth time.

“Deep breaths. It will be fine.” Lucy firmly nodded in resolution before opening the door of her bedroom and walking out.

Rosie was finishing drying the dishes when Lucy walked in, she watched as he stared out of the kitchen window absentmindedly humming to the music and drying one of the mugs.

“How do sandwiches sound?” Lucy finally asked as she pulled the old fridge door open, trying to find if she had enough things to make a suitable lunch.

“That sounds great. You don’t mind that I used the record player?”

“Darling, you are free to use that whenever you please.” Lucy reassured him as she emerged from the fridge holding a parcel of cheese and various pieces of produce. Her heart seemed to stop when she saw how he was looking at her. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“No really, why are you staring at me like that?”

“You look like a vision.” Lucy ducked her head to stop Rosie from seeing her cheeks flaming bright red.

“Thank you.” Lucy placed the food on the cutting board and started to cut up the cheese into slices to go on the bread.

“You don’t take compliments well, do you?”

“I’m British, what do you expect?” Lucy said as she looked at Rosie over her shoulder, repeating the same words he had said to her. He had finished drying the dishes a while ago and now he was leaning on the counter with his arms crossed. The morning sun hit his face just right and Lucy was wondering how he had become a pilot when he clearly could have been put into major motion pictures. 

Lucy turned back to the task at hand with a smile on her face, the song on the record player suddenly changed and Lucy started to hum in tune with the music.

She quickly finished making the sandwiches and ordered Rosie to try and find the basket that she had stowed away in the hall closet. When he returned, Rosie was also carrying the picnic blanket from the day before.

“Thought we might need this.”

“Perfect, you can set it- uh Rosie?” Lucy found herself being spun around and into Rosie’s arms. They were swaying in time with the music and she found herself looking at the man in front of her with a questioning look in her eyes.

“This song can’t not be danced to. And you look too beautiful for me not to take this opportunity.” Rosie said as he brought Lucy closer to him, leaning his forehead against hers.

“You need to stop that.”

“What? Saying the truth?”

“Rosie…”

“Nope, not taking requests. You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh God.” Lucy groaned in mock anguish and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling as he tightened his hold on her.

Once everything was packed and ready, Rosie found himself carrying the picnic basket in one hand and holding Lucy’s hand in the other. She truly looked like some kind of angel sent from heaven. Her blonde curls bounced as she walked and excitedly explained random bits of history or childhood stories about different areas of the town.

Supposedly they were on the way to one of the little alcoves that was the perfect picnic spot according to Lucy, but Rosie just felt happy to be around her. He still didn’t truly understand how exactly he had found Lucy. He could clearly imagine what would have happened if he never took leave, he would be going up again and would have never known about the blonde spitfire who hated compliments and lived in a blue house by the beach.

God, he can almost picture Crosby’s face when he tells him that he found a girl while on leave. That is going to be something that he would never want to miss.

“So tell me about you now, I think I’ve rambled on long enough.” Lucy said, as she beamed at Rosie, bumping her shoulder against his.

“You know almost everything about me, darling.”

“There has to be something. A dirty secret, perhaps?”

“No, no. Nothing of the sort.”

“Alright fine, Saint Rosie.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Any dirty secrets.”

“Hmm, a few, but my lips are sealed.”

“Now that’s unfair.”

“It is not!”

They continued on like that for a while longer, until both Rosie and Lucy had started to feel tiny pangs of hunger in their stomachs. The sun was shining brightly as they continued to walk on the beach, Lucy still intent on finding the cove she used to go to.

“Aha! There it is. I told you, my parents used to take me here when I was a kid.”

Lucy unlaced her hand from Rosie’s and he watched her as she ran across the sand, twirling and laughing like she had just won the lottery. A feeling of complete happiness and joy spread through Rosie’s limbs and he carefully placed the picnic basket on the sand, running after Lucy. Once he reached her he pulled her into his arms and twirled her around. Their laughter quickly filled the cove with joy it hadn’t witnessed in a while.

They had calmed down after a while and Rosie quickly helped Lucy set up the picnic. The ginger beer somehow still cool to the touch after being carried under the sun for a while. 

Once everything was ready, Rosie basically inhaled his sandwich, whether that was because of Lucy’s culinary skills or the hunger that had built up in him during the walk he did not know, but Rosie felt calm for the first time in a while.

He was now watching the push and pull of the waves against the sandy beach and stroking a hand through Lucy’s soft curls. With her head resting on his lap she seemed to almost be dozing off, a small content smile adorning her face.

“You know, I’m glad my editor made me take a break.” Lucy’s soft voice carefully broke the comfortable silence, Rosie hummed in appreciation - urging her to go on. “I haven’t stopped working ever since… my parents.”

“It’s almost like you settled into a routine, you thought you were handling it well and then suddenly…” Rosie trailed off as he thought back to his time at the Flak House, he had gotten better at handling missions after that, he felt more human but he knew exactly how hard it felt to just stop sometimes. Because when you stop, you start to feel everything.

“It gets too much…”

“Exactly. I had- have, the same problem.”

“Birds of a feather.”

“Yes.” Rosie murmured, his mind far away in the clouds. He felt so connected to Lucy for some reason. Maybe this is why. They were two sides of the same coin.

“Read to me, Rosie.” Lucy said after a few moments of silence. Rosie looked down to find that Lucy’s brown eyes were fixed on his face.

“You want the silly American to read to you?”

“Rosie… everything about you is beautiful, now, read to me. The silly Brit commands you.”

“Commanding me now, are we?” Rosie teasingly asked, largely ignoring the first part of Lucy’s comment which made him feel like he was floating.

“Rosie.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rosie picked up the copy of The Great Gatsby that Lucy had packed and flicked to a random page, starting to read the tale of some rich fictional idiots who had no care in the world except for the sorrows of love.

Pastels painted the sky as the sun started to set. Lucy was still lying in the same position she had been for the past few hours. Rosie had abandoned reading after a while and they spent that time talking and sitting in comfortable silence.

It was easy just being around Rosie, Lucy felt completely safe in his presence. He had this reassuring air around him which made her sure he was a wonderful Major.

“Sometimes I wish I could paint. I can write about this moment all I want but to create a piece of it would be a completely different experience.”

“Why don’t you start it?”

“What? Painting? No never, you have a better chance of turning me into a singer.” Lucy answered, making the pair laugh.

“Do you think we should head back?”

“Let us stay for a while more, Rosie. It’s too perfect. I want something to remember when we leave.”

“We’ll come back here, Lucy. I swear it.” Lucy smiled up sadly at Rosie, examining the way he looked down at her. She thought he looked earnest enough, but who knew with this war? Who knew if he would ever come back to her?

“I hope we will, Rosie.”

Lucy noticed how much quieter the walk back to her house was, Rosie had slung his arm around her shoulder, tucking her into him and protecting Lucy from the biting night wind that had started to pick up. It was almost as if the realization of leaving was starting to weigh on them. Rosie would be leaving late the next afternoon and Lucy on Monday. Both headed back to their lives and away from the slice of heaven they had been able to cultivate.

“Do you want to come in?” Lucy asked once they arrived at her house. She had already started to move to grab the picnic basket, making up her mind that Rosie wanted to at least spend a meal by himself.

“I would love to.” Lucy smiled and moved back to her original position under Rosie’s arm. “But only if you don’t mind me cooking?”

“You cook?!” Lucy must have realized she looked beyond surprised because she schooled her face a few moments later.

“I do. I haven’t had the chance recently, but my mother taught me well.”

Lucy smiled and quickly pecked Rosie on the cheek before bounding over to the door to unlock it.

“Come on, Rosie. I’m desperate to see what you’ll make.”

Rosie just laughed and picked up his pace until he followed Lucy into the house and shut the door behind him. He placed the picnic basket on the floor and then headed towards the direction of the kitchen.

He passed Lucy, who was quickly flicking through the record collection, intent on finding something to put on while he cooked. Rosie already knew what he was going to make, he just hoped Lucy had the right ingredients for it.

Rosie quickly spent the next hour prepping and cooking his mom’s famous tomato soup. Lucy poured them each large cups of wine and watched him as he cooked. Rosie felt slightly embarrassed by her calculating stare, feeling her eyes on him the entire time he was slicing or stirring, but after a while he realized she was staring at him in admiration. Watching as he fluidly moved through her kitchen and prepared a dinner just for the two of them.

When Rosie was finally ready to plate the food, Lucy offered him two china bowls her mother must have saved for special occasions and Rosie distinctly felt his heart swell. He was rather nervous after they finished serving everything and sat down next to each other at the large dinner table that was usually left unused.

Rosie watched Lucy as dipped her spoon into the tomato soup, raised it to her lips and took a delicate sip. He watched as her face contorted in awe and she quickly took a larger sip.

“Rosie. How? This needs to be in a restaurant. This is incredible!”

“It can’t be that good.”

“Oh it is. You must tell me your secrets.” Rosie laughed, relieved that he was able to please her. He took a sip of his own soup and relished in the familiar taste of home.

After dinner and cleaning up the dishes, Rosie found himself nestled next to Lucy on the couch. She had gotten changed once they had finished drying the dishes and was now wearing the long lacy nightgown he had seen that morning. It seemed that it was tailored to be his own personal torture device.

“Lucy, you really need to stop me, because I really want to kiss you right now.” Rosie finally said, it seemed like the two glasses of wine had given him enough confidence that his brain was no longer filtering his mouth. Lucy turned her head to look at him directly and he watched as a smile blossomed on her face.

“Oh I’m not going to be the one to stop you.”

This kiss felt different from the others. It was as if it was imbued with a special kind of love that came from knowing the other person on a much deeper level. Rosie’s fingers were tangled in Lucy’s silky blonde curls and he could feel as his own curls were being ruffled from where Lucy’s hands had started to tug on them.

When they finally broke apart, both Rosie and Lucy were panting hard. Rosie knew he was looking at Lucy with more admiration than he thought was possible and she was looking at him with the same depth of love in her eyes.

“You are quite a man, Robert Rosenthal.”

“And you are quite a woman, Lucy Everett.” Lucy laughed and she tucked herself close to him once again. Rosie relished in the warmth that her body emanated, how he wished he could stay like this forever.

Little by little, the sound of Bing Crosby started to fade and Rosie felt himself drop into a slow slumber. Lucy’s eyes also began to close and the two lovers drifted off into the sweet escape of sleep.

Only once did one of them wake, Rosie woke up panting after having what seemed like a nightmare. The moon illuminated the living room and he could still hear the distant sounds of a woman screaming. He shook himself out of it and instead focused on the blonde in his arms. He carefully readjusted her and placed a kiss on her cheek before falling back asleep.

Lucy felt a warm solid body pressed against her own. She blearily blinked her eyes open and watched as her living room blossomed around her. Then she remembered where she was, and who she was with.

“You’re finally awake.” Rosie’s voice made Lucy smile contently and she looked up to see Rosie’s intent stare on her face.

“Hmmm, good morning.”

“It is indeed.”

“You stayed.”

“I wouldn’t leave unless I had to, Lucy.” Rosie said with a sad smile, Lucy watched as his eyes dimmed slightly and she quickly nestled closer into him. Sitting up slightly to press a kiss to his jaw, and then his cheek and finally his lips.

“What was that for?”

“I thought you needed it.” Lucy said with a shrug before she was too attacked with kisses. Rosie’s mustache tickled her skin as he placed a flurry of kisses all over her face. She shrieked in delight, making Rosie chuckle against her. “Rosie! Stop! I have to go make breakfast.”

“Nope.” Rosie stopped kissing her for a moment just to respond to her comment and Lucy let out a sigh of relief, which was instantly cut short as he started his assault once again.

“Rosie…”

“Okay, okay fine. Come on. I’ll help you make breakfast.” Rosie said, finally relenting. He stretched out his arms and let out a groan as Lucy also yawned and started to stand up from her place on the couch.

“What are you feeling like?”

“Anything you want, darling. Just none of that tea please.” Lucy narrowed her eyes at him, which had Rosie smiling sheepishly at her.

“Fine, come on.”

Lucy quickly busied herself as she picked out the meager ingredients she had to make eggless pancakes, since she had used up the last of the eggs yesterday. Lucy could feel Rosie’s eyes on her when she started to do her little tea ritual.

“Can you put on some music, honey?” Lucy asked once she had finished pouring herself a cup.

“Of course.”

After the click of the record sounded, Lucy distinctly felt the weight of Rosie behind her as he pulled her towards him and hugged her from behind. Lucy was carefully measuring out the ingredients but she let her head lean against his shoulder.

“Hmmm. I’m going to miss you.” Lucy whispered, Rosie hummed against her head and Lucy felt herself start to sway against him. She felt a slow tear run down the length of her cheek and she allowed herself to just feel for a few moments.

“I may be leaving but I’ll always be in your heart, and you will always be in mine.”

“You’re already making me cry, Rosie, stop saying things like that.” Lucy said with a strained laugh. Looking back at him, Lucy felt her heart both swell and break simultaneously.

“Lucy… I-”

“I love you.” Lucy muttered, interrupting Rosie mid sentence. She watched him as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“You- you? You love me?”

“I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

“I love you too. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you sitting outside on your porch swing reading the same book I was. Lucy, darling, I-”

Lucy cut Rosie off again but this time with a kiss. She threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled him towards her. She put everything she had into that kiss and she felt as Rosie responded in turn. His lips cautiously moved against hers and she felt a tingle run over her body by how carefully he cradled her face against his.

“Rosie. I really need to get to those pancakes.” Lucy finally said after a few long minutes of kissing. She muttered her words against his lips, feeling as Rosie chuckled and pulled away from here.

“Nothing is stopping you, milady.” Lucy huffed but turned back around. Savoring the feeling of the man that she loved cradling her as she fixed breakfast and took sips of her tea.

Rosie’s tastebuds ignited when he placed a slice of pancake in his mouth. The day was already starting to shape out to be a good one. He still felt like he was floating after Lucy’s admission only half an hour ago, now he just watched her in awe from across the kitchen table. She was also taking careful bites of her pancakes and stealing glances at him.

They had almost become more bashful than they had ever been, whenever they met eyes either Rosie or Lucy would immediately break eye contact. There was a comfortable tension between them that neither person felt necessary to break.

Once they had both finished their respective breakfasts, Rosie leant over and entwined their hands together. He watched as Lucy smiled adoringly at him and leaned over to peck his lips.

“Rosie… I- do you want to finish The Great Gatsby?” Lucy asked against his lips, staring at him intently. Rosie nodded and they both rose from their seats and walked over to the living room. Leaving the dishes for another time.

The morning was spent in a quiet comfort. Rosie’s voice echoed through the rooms of the house, although he frequently stopped his reading to press languid kisses to Lucy’s lips, or to caress the exposed skin of her arm. At the pace that he ended up going, he finished the book at about midday. When Rosie leaned over to place the book on the coffee table, he felt Lucy stir from his side and start to stretch out.

“I need to get changed, Rosie.”

“Yeah?”

“Hmm. I wanted to walk with you to the station and I can’t do that wearing a nightgown.”

“I wouldn’t be complaining.”

“I know you wouldn’t be, but do you truly want everyone else staring at me.” Rosie blinked up at Lucy from his position on the couch when realization dawned on him. “I thought so. Now busy yourself with something while I get changed.”

“Yes ma’am.” Rosie said with a sarcastic nod which had Lucy shaking her head at him before disappearing out of the door. 

Rosie took to scanning the living room he had basically lived in for the past few days. He wanted to commit it all to memory before he had to leave. At that thought, Rosie dragged a hand over his face - he was leaving in less than two hours and he was leaving her. How he wished he could take her with him and show her the planes that so fascinated her. Most of all he wanted this damned war to end so he could be in her arms for the rest of his life.

His fingers caressed the worn fabric of the couch he was sitting on, he felt more at home here than he had in a while. Rosie didn’t want to leave. He knew his duty and nothing would stop him from that, but how he wished it wasn’t like this. He wished he had met Lucy at a jazz bar, or at a bookstore, when war wasn’t a constant in both of their lives.

He wished the world was different, but unfortunately it wasn’t. All Rosie could do was keep coming back from missions, and now he had another reason to.

“Very well, how do I look?” Lucy’s voice almost made him jump, he had been so lost in his thoughts that Rosie hadn’t heard the creaking of the age old floorboards. He took a few moments to take in his beautiful Lucy. She was wearing a long light yellow dress with black flowers embroidered on the collar.

“You look radiant as always, my dear.” Rosie said, almost breathlessly as he rose from his spot on the sofa and walked over to her. He pressed a kiss to her lips, trying to memorize the feeling of her warm body against his.

“Hmm. Not that this isn’t wonderful, but we need to make lunch. And I wanted to make some sandwiches for your trip back.”

“You really don’t need to do that.” Rosie said as he pulled away from Lucy to look at her in surprise.

“I want to, now come.”

After a quick lunch, Lucy had disappeared into her study to write him a little note - leaving Rosie to do the dishes. She sat down at her desk and stretched her fingers before starting to type.

Dear Rosie,

I know you won’t read this until you get back, but I wanted you to have something to remember me by. I just wanted to say that I love you and I promise to write to you nearly every day and try to call you when I can because I’m not sure I will be able to survive without hearing or reading your words for a day.

You have turned my world into something I never expected. I never expected you, my darling. I wish we could spend more days like this weekend. I will never forget them, I will never forget you. I will always cherish these memories, until we are able to make new ones just like them.

I love you, my dear. Remember that when you’re flying your plane and have your head in the clouds.

All my love,

Lucy

With a final ding of the typewriter, Lucy pulled the paper out and blew a little on the ink before folding it into a neat rectangle. She grabbed Rosie’s copy of The Great Gatsby that had been hanging around the house for the past few days. Opening up the book she slipped the note in between the pages and then picked up her pencil to scribble her name on the inside cover page.

“Now what might you be up to?” Lucy swivelled around to find Rosie leaning on the doorframe. His arms were crossed and he seemed to have been standing there for quite a while.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really? So you didn’t just slip something into my book.”

“Shhh, it’s supposed to be a secret. Be a dear and don’t open it until you get back.” Lucy said as she rose from her seat and placed the book into Rosie’s hands, an easy smile on her face.

“The suspense might kill me but I promise. When do you have to head back to London?”

“Tomorrow. I’m hoping for a new assignment.”

“I’m sure it’s going to be amazing.”

“You better buy a copy of the paper once it’s published.”

“Don’t worry, I will be on the lookout for it.” Rosie’s arms now encircled her waist, and Lucy was sure she was staring at him like a lovesick idiot.

“We better get going if we want to catch your train. You still need to pick up your luggage.”

“I know, but this is much more preferable.”

“Rosie… don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“Alright, alright.” Rosie’s hands rose in a defeated posture, making Lucy choke out a laugh.

“Come on.” 

Lucy followed after Rosie as she went to grab the necessary things for leaving the house. She slipped on her shoes and tied the laces while watching Rosie take in the last details of the hallway before he left. He looked contemplative and Lucy wondered what exactly he was thinking about.

Rosie’s curls were all messed up from a night on the couch and from Lucy’s constant tugging and rearranging of them. Lucy thought he looked ethereal standing there in wrinkled clothes and messy hair. For the billionth time she wished she was a painter so she could capture him just like that.

“Ready?” She finally asked. Lucy’s question made Rosie’s eyes travel to her and he gave her a nod before going to open the door.

It felt final to Lucy, she knew she would see him again but there was always a chance, a high chance, that he wouldn’t come back to her. Even if he had promised he would.

She waited outside of the B&B for Rosie to collect his luggage, she had taken to kicking a pebble on the sidewalk and staring at the cracks in the pavement. Watching as the little weeds crept through the cement.

“Lucy… I have everything.” Rosie’s tentative voice broke her out of her thought spiral, making Lucy look over to him to find that he had changed into his uniform and had tamed his curls. He looked handsome, somehow even more handsome than he had while he wore civies. His hat was under his left arm and he held his luggage in the other.

“Well don’t you look handsome?” Rosie rewarded Lucy with a bashful smile and a blush. “Aww, don’t go getting all shy on me now.” Lucy teased as she came up to him and carefully took the hat from under his arm and placed it slightly lopsided on his head. She wrapped her hand around his now free arm and leaned against his shoulder.

The walk to the train station was filled with easy chatter, Lucy was trying to avoid facing the fact that he was leaving (possibly forever) and that she would have to return to a house that would now be void of Rosie. The small platform greeted the pair all too quickly, the station clock showing that it would only be a few minutes before the train that would take Rosie far, far away from her would arrive.

“Rosie, I- I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t- Lucy, I don’t want this to be goodbye.”

“But you’re leaving, Rosie.”

“I’ll come back.”

“Oh, Rosie, you can’t promise me that.” She smiled tightly at him, and threw her arms around his shoulder. Feeling as he quickly reciprocated the hug. Hot, burning tears started to race down her face.

“I know, I know I can’t, but I promise that I’ll keep trying to come back. To come back to you.”

“I’m going to miss you so much. I love you.” Lucy whispered against his chest, as she let out a choked sob. She felt droplets of water hit her head and she realized that Rosie was crying too.

“And I’m going to miss you, my dear Lucy. I love you too, so much.” Rosie said as he leaned closer to Lucy.

“Promise me you’ll write.”

“Every day. Here, this is my address at the base and the phone number.” Rosie quickly pulled a piece of paper and pencil from his bag and scribbled a note on there, adding a heart for good measure.

The distant sound of the train whistle had Lucy’s heart clenching. She quickly swept away her tears and took the paper from Rosie’s hands. She pulled him in for one last kiss. Feeling as the top of his hat bumped against her forehead and how his lips pressed against hers.

The train whistle got louder and louder, making the urgency of the kiss increase. It felt like a goodbye kiss. Lucy hoped she would get to experience it again but she also knew this might be the last time, so she memorized the pressure and love that seemed to be behind Rosie’s actions. They finally pulled apart, reluctantly, when the train slowed into the station.

“Goodbye, Lucy Everett. Don’t cry, my darling. I’ll always be here. In our memories and in the love you know I hold for you.” Rosie muttered, Lucy stared deep into his eyes and nodded.

“Goodbye, Rosie. I love you so so much, now go.” Rosie smiled sadly and then pulled away from her. Lucy watched as her dear Major stepped onto the train and turned to wave at her and blow her a kiss one last time. She smiled as tears ran down her cheeks and waved back, making her remember that first wave he had sent her all those days ago.

Rosie was back on the train, except this time it wasn’t boiling hot and he was feeling the deep pangs of an aching heart. He missed her so much already and it had only been two hours. He would be arriving in London soon where he would have to change trains to get back to base, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything except stare at the piece of paper in his hands. He hadn’t opened it yet but he kept stroking the paper as if it would magically make Lucy appear in front of him.

He wanted desperately to ask the train to go back around, to abandon his life so he could run off into the sunset with his sweetheart but he had a job to do. A job which would keep her safe. So he spent the entire time on the train and then the jeep back to base thinking about Lucy’s silky curls and her ringing laughter.

Even Crosby seemed to notice something was up when he was quieter than usual at dinner. He tried to press him about it, but Rosie just brushed him off. Until he realized that Cros was now genuinely looking worried about him. 

“Crosby, I’m fine.”

“What the hell happened during your leave that has suddenly turned you into a grouch?”

“I met someone.”

“You met someone?” Crosby tentatively asked.

“A girl.”

“You met a girl?!”

“Crosby, goddammit, quiet down.”

“Jesus, sorry. So you met a girl?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And what? I met a girl, fell in love and now I’m dealing with the fact I might never get to see her again.”

“Did you give her your address? Wait- fell in love? Rosie, you scoundrel!”

“It isn’t like that, Cros.”

“Sure. But did you?”

“Yes, I gave her my address. I’m sure she’ll write-”

“There! You see, she loves you too right?”

“Yes.”

“Exactly, you need to stop overthinking this and just allow it to happen.”

“Crosby… I just- I promised I’d come back to her.”

“Then you better do it. You’re one of the best god damned pilots I know, Rosie. If anyone could do it, you can. You’ll make it back and you’ll make gorgeous babies with this girl of yours. What’s her name anyways?”

“Lucy Everett.”

part 2 part 3 part 4

so... thoughts? queries?

also here are the moodboards i've made so far: meet the oc lucy's outfits

there will probably be an epilogue of sorts and some little drabbles/fics scattered around the timeline so let me know if you want to be added to the taglist !!

taglist: @justheretoreadthhx @callumsgirl <33

[bradshawsbaby]

baby mine

pairing: rhett abbott x wife!reader

author’s note: been feeling very inspired by lewis rhett lately, and also in the mood for some angst, so here is where we ended up!

warnings: angst with a happy ending, pregnancy, blood, fear of miscarriage, medical crisis, rhett attempting to pray, and a little smattering of fluff

If anyone had asked you to describe your experience of pregnancy, you would have summed it up as follows:

It was easy until it wasn’t.

Your first trimester had been a breeze. Beyond a couple of queasy mornings, quickly remedied by dry toast and some fresh air, you didn’t experience morning sickness at all. In fact, you woke up every morning more chipper than usual, to the point that Rhett often checked that you didn’t have some sort of fever. He even wondered aloud over breakfast one day if you’d been getting sick in secret, so surprised was he at your perfect health.

“Not every woman gets morning sickness, baby,” you’d laughed, running your fingers through his hair as you stood over him to refill his coffee cup.

“Well aren’t you a lucky one?” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your still-flat stomach.

You were. For a while.

As the weeks, and then months slipped by, your belly grew rounder and rounder as your pregnancy progressed, all the ultrasounds and tests coming back to show that you were carrying a perfectly healthy baby girl.

“She’s glowing, Rhett,” Cecilia often commented whenever you and your husband visited the Abbott ranch for dinner.

“I didn’t even know a pregnant lady could be that happy,” Perry added one night, chuckling as he watched you and Amy playing in the living room, Amy showing you a project she’d been working on in school. “Rebecca was miserable the entire time she was carrying Amy, I swear.”

Rhett just smiled in response, like he always did. “That’s my honeybee,” he murmured proudly, catching your eye and winking at you.

No morning sickness. No weird cravings or aversions to any of your favorite foods. No major mood swings beyond what you were already used to. No massive weight gain. It was like you were walking on a cloud.

“Better watch out, honeybee,” Rhett teased one day when the two of you drove to town to grab lunch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he bent his head to whisper in your ear. “I think Katie Hamilton’s gonna make a voodoo doll of you and poke it with pins every night before bed,” he chuckled, subtly nodding his head in the direction of one of your childhood classmates. Nemesis probably would have been a more apt description.

Lifting your eyes, you glanced across the diner, where you were standing in wait for a table, and caught sight of Katie, who was glaring daggers at you. The two of you had never really gotten along, but her look was particularly venomous today.

“What’s her problem?” you muttered, raising your eyebrows as you turned to look back at Rhett. “I haven’t done anything to her. Lately.”

Your husband just laughed, shaking his head as he smoothed one hand over your swollen belly. “That’s pure jealousy, honeybee. Because you look like a damn goddess right now, and she got fat,” he smirked. Rhett had never forgiven Katie Hamilton for all the times she’d made you cry back when you were growing up.

“Rhett,” you scolded, poking him in the side and trying to hide the way your lips were twitching in amusement.

There was a strange sense of justice in Miss Queen Bee, who’d made all the girls feel miserable about their looks throughout middle school and high school, losing some of her shine during her pregnancy.

“What?” Rhett demanded, his eyes widening innocently. He laughed at your pointed look, ducking his head to kiss you. “Sorry, baby, but it’s true. Pregnancy looks much better on you.”

Truth be told, pregnancy did suit you. And you assumed it would keep on suiting you until the time came for you to deliver your little bundle of joy.

But then your third trimester hit.

It started out innocuously enough. You tired out more easily and needed to sit down more often. Your back started to ache when you went grocery shopping with Cecilia or your mama. You found yourself getting winded when cooking and setting the table for dinner.

All of it just seemed part and parcel of growing a little human inside you.

“Honeybee, sit down,” Rhett would tell you whenever he caught you rubbing at your lower back, trying to ease the tension that seemed to be lodging itself there with increasing frequency. “I can do the dishes.”

“I can do the laundry.”

“I can run to the store.”

There was nothing your husband wasn’t willing to do for you.

But you turned him down every time.

“I’m fine, baby,” you always told him, even when you had to say it through gritted teeth to mask the discomfort. “I can do it.”

“You need to rest,” he was constantly reminding you, forcing you to take a break whenever he was able to.

“There won’t be any rest once the baby comes along. This is good practice,” you usually responded, grinning as you rested a hand atop your growing bump. At seven and a half months along, it was rather unwieldy at this point.

“You are one stubborn woman, honeybee,” Rhett sighed with a shake of his head, eyeing you carefully as you carried on with your household chores.

You were determined to continue doing just as much around the house and the ranch as you’d done before you’d gotten pregnant. You could do it. You could continue to make Rhett proud, just as you’d done in your first two trimesters.

But it was starting to seem that all your good fortune was drying up and that all the discomfort you’d avoided at the start of your pregnancy was now catching up with you in full force. Maybe Katie Hamilton really had made a voodoo doll of you, like Rhett had joked that day at the diner.

The tiredness was quickly turning to exhaustion, and the slight aches were evolving into an incessant discomfort that bordered on pain. You found yourself catching your breath all the time now, clutching your belly as cramps passed through you on a regular basis.

Every time Rhett asked if you were doing alright, however, you forced yourself to smile and told him, “Just fine, baby.”

It wasn’t that you were trying to lie to him. But you knew that he was always carrying so much. It seemed as if your husband was constantly trying to balance the weight of the world on his shoulders. Since you’d gotten pregnant, your health and the health of the baby had been at the top of his priority list. He worried all the time, even when you assured him he had no reason to. That was just Rhett, and you loved him for it. You loved him so much, in fact, that you didn’t want him worrying himself sick over something that was beyond his control—something that you were assuming was common in this stage of pregnancy, from everything you’d read and heard from others.

Today, however, didn’t feel very common. You’d been experiencing shooting pain down your back all day, to the point that you had to spend most of the afternoon curled up on the couch, whimpering miserably to yourself in an attempt just to get some of the tension out of your body. You also felt a bit nauseous and could sense a headache forming in the back of your skull.

At this point, you knew you were just being the stubborn woman Rhett affectionately accused you of being. You needed to ask for help. You needed to tell your husband how you were feeling.

By the time Rhett arrived home, however, the sun had long set and he was so exhausted that all he wanted to do was take a quick shower and fall into bed.

“Never been so damn tired before,” he mumbled, pecking you softly on the lips before tugging his shirt over his head and trudging towards the bathroom.

You would just talk to him tomorrow, you resolved, chewing on your bottom lip as you changed into a pair of pajamas and turned the covers down. That was probably a better idea anyway. In the light of day, you’d both be more well-rested and you’d be able to get in touch with your doctor.

Yeah. Tomorrow.

Rhett was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, his hair still damp from his shower, and you quickly followed suit, shifting until you managed to find a semi-comfortable position. Closing your eyes, you found yourself drifting off sooner than expected.

When you woke a few hours later, startled out of a dreamless sleep, you could feel the hair standing up on your arms and the back of your neck, a cold, uneasy feeling gnawing at your insides.

Something was wrong.

Sitting up gingerly, you sucked in a sharp breath as a fierce pain tore across your abdomen. You had to close your eyes for a moment to steady yourself, one hand resting on your belly as you attempted to swing your legs over the side of the bed.

“What is it, honeybee?” Rhett croaked from the darkness beside you, sounding only half conscious.

“Nothing,” you lied, biting down on your hand to keep from crying out as you slid off the bed. “Just have to go to the bathroom.”

Your husband simply hummed in response, already back to sleep.

Trying to quell the panic that was quickly rising up inside you, you carefully wobbled towards the bathroom, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth all the while. Maybe this was Braxton Hicks? You’d heard plenty about the “false alarm” contractions that many women faced during their pregnancies. But this didn’t feel like contractions. This felt like something much more serious.

Flicking the lights on in the bathroom, you stumbled to the counter and took in your bleary-eyed, exhausted appearance. Your face looked almost ghostly, matching the ominous shiver that suddenly passed through your body.

You clutched your stomach as another sharp pain knocked the breath out of your lungs, which sent you tottering over to the toilet. Yanking your shorts down, you took a seat and then let out a horrified gasp at the sight you were met with.

Blood.

Your underwear was soaked with bright red blood, the metallic scent of iron assaulting your nose and making you gag.

“Rhett!” you cried out, your voice tearing from your throat so violently that you were almost worried you’d damaged your vocal chords. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the awful reality staring you in the face.

Something about the tone of your voice evidently broke through the exhausted haze in which your husband had been ensnared because seconds later he was barging his way into the bathroom, looking more awake and alert than you’d ever seen him.

“Baby, what is it? What’s wrong?” he demanded to know, flying to your side in an instant and crouching down beside you.

“I—I—” You couldn’t even get the words out, couldn’t bear to say them out loud. So instead, you pointed with a trembling finger, squeezing your eyes shut as tears began to roll down your cheeks. You didn’t want to look anymore.

Rhett followed the direction of your finger, gazing downward at the mess of blood coating your underwear and staining your inner thighs. His blue eyes widened and his face paled considerably, but he didn’t freak out. He didn’t jump up or start flailing or demand you tell him what to do. Instead, he reached up and cupped your face between his hands, his touch gentle yet insistent.

“Honeybee,” he said, his calm voice belying the anxiety that was currently making his heart race a million miles an hour. “Baby, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me.”

You did as he said, slowly opening your watery eyes and meeting his direct gaze. “Rhett, the baby…” you whimpered, a fresh wave of terror crashing over you as you caught sight of the blood once more. You could feel that it was still leaking out of you as you sat there, staining the water in the toilet a dark, violent red.

“Sh, honeybee, sh,” Rhett murmured, his voice as gentle and as soothing as it was when he was talking to a skittish horse. “Talk to me. Keep your eyes on me and talk to me. It’s gonna be alright. What happened?”

You were grateful that he was somehow managing to remain so collected and rational, considering you felt anything but. But that was Rhett. He’d experienced his own fair share of brutal injuries and had seen plenty of blood and gore between the rodeo circuit and his time on the ranch, so these sorts of things didn’t faze him the way they did other people. Your husband was the perfect person to have around in a crisis because he knew how to handle it.

You, on the other hand, did not.

“P-pain,” you sobbed out, able to keep your eyes trained on Rhett only because he was still holding your face in his grasp, his calloused thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “There was this p-pain—in my back a-and my stomach—woke me up—and when I-I got to the b-bathroom—so much b-b-blood,” you wailed, terror gripping you in its iron grasp.

The baby! What was going to happen to the baby?!

“Okay, okay, honeybee. I’ve got you, baby. I’m right here,” Rhett assured you. His voice was still calm, but you noticed a flash of raw fear in his eyes as he looked down once more. “We’re gonna get you to the hospital, alright? It’s gonna be alright.” You weren’t sure at this point if he was trying to reassure you or himself.

“Rhett! I need—I can’t—the blood!” you gasped out, clutching onto his arms.

“I know,” Rhett nodded, pressing a tender kiss to your knee. “I know. I’ll take care of it, baby. Just stay right here.” He carefully pulled your bloodied shorts and underwear down your legs, standing up and throwing them into the sink. “I’ll be right back, honeybee,” he promised, turning and hurrying out of the bathroom.

He was back in a flash, a clean pair of underwear and your favorite pair of sweatpants in hand.

“Alright, baby, where’d you put your pads?” Rhett asked, his eyes quickly scanning every available surface in the bathroom.

It had been so long since you’d needed them.

“In the closet, on the top shelf,” you told him hoarsely, your throat still clogged with tears.

If you weren’t so overwhelmed with fear, you might have been impressed by how quickly Rhett pulled down your pack of pads, tearing a couple of them open and lining your underwear with them before walking back over to you, kneeling down on the cold bathroom floor.

“Okay, baby, we’ll get these on and get you dressed and then we’ll get in the car and get you to the hospital,” Rhett told you, grasping your ankles gently as he slipped them through the openings in the fabric of your underwear.

As tender as your husband was being, you felt like you were going to be sick. “Rhett!” you cried, gripping his bare shoulders roughly. “Rhett, the baby! What if the baby—”

“Sh,” Rhett soothed, brushing your hair back from your face. “We’re not gonna think like that, baby. Let me help you up.”

It all felt like a blur. Like a terrible, horrifying blur. Rhett helped you get dressed before throwing on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans himself. You were vaguely conscious of the fact that he was grabbing towels and a blanket, murmuring softly to you, though you weren’t even registering his words.

Were you going to lose your baby? Were you miscarrying at that very moment, the blood that was seeping out of your body robbing you of the precious baby girl that you and Rhett had been so eagerly anticipating the arrival of? Your daughter? The one you had loved from the moment you knew she existed?

If you lost her, it would be your fault.

Your stubbornness. Your pride. Your refusal to admit when something was wrong.

And now something was really wrong.

If you lost her, it would be all your fault.

“Honeybee, c‘mon, I’ve got you.” Rhett’s voice cut through the misery of your thoughts as he draped a jacket around your shoulders, one hand around your waist as he led you out of the house and towards the truck. It was already running, and you could see as you approached that Rhett had laid down a few towels on the bench. “There you go,” he murmured, helping to lift you up into the bed. Once you were seated, he reached over to settle a blanket over your lap. “There you go, baby.” Closing the door, he raced over to the driver’s side and hopped into the truck, peeling off down the drive almost before he’d even pulled his seatbelt on.

You moaned softly as another wave of pain washed over you, clutching your belly and weeping softly.

“Just rest now, honeybee. Please,” Rhett begged plaintively, reaching over to rest one hand on your stomach.

“It’s my fault,” you told him, nearly incoherent with anxiety and worry. “It’s my fault. If anything happens, it’s—”

“Hey now, no talking like that,” he told you sternly, keeping his eyes fixed ahead on the road despite the fact that he wanted to pull you into his arms and hold you. “Everything’s going to be fine. It will. You and the baby are going to be fine.”

Maybe if he kept saying it enough, one of you would start to believe it.

“I should have told you,” you whimpered, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gathered the blanket more tightly around you. “I should have told you.”

Rhett glanced over at you, his brow furrowed in concern. “Lay your head back and rest, honeybee. I’m gonna get you to the hospital real soon.”

The nearest hospital was well over an hour away, but with the way Rhett was driving, he managed to get you there in under forty-five minutes. You were feeling weak and exhausted by the time you arrived, so your husband lifted you into his arms, holding on tightly as he ran you inside.

“Please,” he called out, some of his calm facade cracking as he hurried to the front desk. “Please, my wife. Help my wife. She’s pregnant and she’s bleeding and she—”

Before he could even finish his jumbled explanation, a couple nurses were hurrying forward with a wheelchair, firing out directives and guiding the two of you to a room down a long hallway.

Suddenly there were doctors and nurses surrounding you, stripping you out of your clothes and laying you down in bed and poking and prodding and asking too many questions and telling you to remain calm, but all you really wanted was—

“Rhett!” you sobbed, reaching out and trying to find your husband’s hand. “Rhett!”

“I’m here, baby, I’m here!” Rhett called back. But he sounded so far away. And you couldn’t feel his hand in yours, no matter how hard you reached for him.

“Rhett!” You were hysterical now, you could feel it. Your voice felt harsh and raw as you continued to cry out, the salty tears burning your eyes and cheeks. “The baby! My baby!”

In the back of your mind, you thought you heard one of the doctors say something about sedation, but all you could think about were Rhett and the baby. They were all that mattered. They were the only ones who mattered.

Within seconds, your mind grew hazy and your eyes felt heavy, your aching body sinking into the hospital bed as your consciousness slowly floated away. Before darkness engulfed you completely, you could have sworn you heard Rhett whispering your name.

You couldn’t say with any certainty how long you were out for, but as you slowly started to come to, you could feel the early morning sunlight pressing against your eyelids, so you knew a couple hours at least must have passed. Not quite ready to open your eyes and face whatever news the doctors had to give you, you just lay there quietly, the sound of your own heartbeat rushing in your eyes.

It took a couple moments before you realized that there was a weight pressed against your side, pinning your hand to the bed. Cracking your eyes open just the tiniest fraction, you glanced down and saw that it was Rhett. He had pulled a chair up beside your bed and his head was bowed low, covering your hand and pressing against your thigh. You thought for a second that he might be asleep, but then you saw the slight shudder pass through his shoulders and heard the soft sniffle and you realized the truth.

He was crying.

Your big, strong cowboy of a husband hardly ever cried. Whenever he did, it broke your heart. You wanted nothing more than to reach down and gently stroke his hair, to offer him some comfort, but it was rather difficult to do so with your hand still caught beneath him.

And then he started talking. But you quickly realized he wasn’t talking to you, so you shut your eyes once more to give him some privacy.

“Please, God,” he rasped, lifting his head just enough so that he could take your hand between both of his own. “I know I ain’t never been much of a praying man. Not much a church-going man either. And I guess You’d be right for not listening to me now. But I’m begging You, God. Please. Please protect our baby. Please let her be okay. And please protect my wife. I love her so much, God, and if I ever lost her—my life wouldn’t mean anything if I—oh, please. Please,” he softly prayed, his head falling forward against the bed once again as he quietly sobbed.

You felt your heart splinter into a million tiny pieces as you listened to your husband’s earnest pleas and felt his tears soak into your blanket. He’d been so strong for you this whole time, but the truth was that he was just as terrified. Listening to him now, you felt yourself falling even more in love with him than ever before.

“Sh,” you murmured tenderly, squeezing his hand lightly as you slowly opened your eyes. “I’m right here. It’s okay,” you whispered.

Rhett’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice and he turned to look at you, his beautiful blue eyes bloodshot and heavy laden with the weight of his sorrow.

“Honeybee,” he breathed out, rising from his chair so that he could lean over you and press a soft kiss to your lips. “Oh, baby, there you are. There you are,” he whispered, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“What happened?” you asked him in a small voice, terrified to actually know the answer.

“They had to sedate you a little bit, baby,” Rhett explained, smoothing your hair back with one hand. “You were getting real upset and they figured it would make it easier to do their exams. They ran a few tests and they’ve been monitoring you this whole time.”

“But the baby,” you said, gazing up at him with worried eyes. “What did they say about the baby?”

Was your baby going to make it?

Rhett’s expression fell slightly, which made your heart jump into your throat. “They haven’t said anything yet, honeybee. I think they’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes again. “I’m scared, Rhett,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” Rhett nodded solemnly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “So am I.” He ran a hand over your belly, bending his head to kiss it and then rest his cheek atop it. “Mommy and Daddy are right here, baby girl,” he whispered, his voice thick with feeling.

Swallowing the emotion that was threatening to drown you, you reached down and carded your fingers through Rhett’s hair, holding him close to you.

At that moment, the door to your room popped open and a nurse stuck her head inside. “Oh! Mrs. Abbott, you’re awake! I’ll go get the doctor,” she said, scurrying off before you could even open your mouth.

Turning to look at Rhett, you saw the fear that you had been battling all night reflected in his eyes as he lifted your hand and pressed it to his lips. He opened his mouth, as if to reassure you that it was going to be okay, but then he seemed to think better of it.

Was it going to be okay?

You didn’t think minutes had ever ticked by slower. By the time the door finally opened again, an older doctor in a white lab coat stepping into the room, you thought you were going to jump out of your skin. You must have startled slightly because Rhett rested his hand on your arm, stroking it softly in comfort.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Abbott,” the doctor said with a kind smile. He had lines around his eyes that told you he had spent a lot of time laughing and smiling. It was a strange detail to notice at that moment, given the circumstances, but you found it oddly comforting. His smile was focused on you as he pulled up a stool and sat beside your bed, across from Rhett. “My name is Dr. Cunningham. I’m the obstetrician on call, and I’m the one who examined you when you came in.”

“I don’t really remember,” you admitted, a bit embarrassed as you shook your head slowly.

“That’s quite alright. You had quite a shock, and things were a bit hectic when you came in,” Dr. Cunningham replied gently, his voice and demeanor putting you at ease. “We felt it was best to put you under a light sedation so that we could examine you without causing any more distress,” he explained.

You felt Rhett’s fingers wrapping around yours, squeezing gently. Your free hand moved to rest atop your rounded belly, as if trying to shield your child from the doctor’s words.

“Dr. Cunningham, please tell us. Is our baby okay?” you asked, your voice cracking towards the end. Fat, hot tears began to spill forth once more, dribbling down your cheeks and spilling off your chin.

The gray-haired doctor reached out to rest a consoling hand on your arm. “Your baby is just fine. In fact, she’s perfect.”

More precious words had never been spoken. Letting out a loud sob of relief, you turned to look at Rhett, who was already up out of his seat, reaching for you. Burying your face in his neck, you wept for joy, his tears spilling into your hair as he rubbed your back with his large hands.

Dr. Cunningham tactfully sat back and allowed the two of you to take a private moment to rest in the solace of his news.

“She’s okay,” you whispered, your lips ghosting across your husband’s skin. “She’s okay.” You said it over and over again until the words took root under your skin, in your brain, in your heart.

Rhett nodded, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “She’s okay, honeybee,” he murmured in response, reaching down to rest his hand over yours, where it was still clutching your belly.

After a couple more moments, Rhett shifted and sat back in his chair, his fingers still tightly intertwined with yours. “So what happened, Dr. Cunningham? Why was she bleeding?”

Taking on a look of deep professionalism, Dr. Cunningham leaned forward and flipped open your medical chart. “It seems, Mrs. Abbott, that you were experiencing something known as placenta previa. It’s fairly rare, but women have been known to experience it in the third trimester of their pregnancies.” At yours and Rhett’s concerned looks, he hastened to explain. “Basically, the placenta was partially covering the opening in your cervix. That’s what caused the bleeding, and the pain I’m sure you were experiencing.”

“But the baby’s okay?” you questioned, suddenly doubting the validity of that statement. “I mean, there was so much blood and—”

“Your baby is fine, I promise you,” Dr. Cunningham interjected, patting your arm in a fatherly gesture. “I ran the tests myself. Fetal heartbeat is strong and vitals look good—for both of you. I know this must have been traumatic, but we’ve stopped the bleeding. That’s what’s most important. And thankfully, your case was fairly mild as far as placenta previa goes.”

“Is it life threatening?” you asked, sensing without having to look at him the way Rhett tensed up beside you.

Dr. Cunningham hesitated a moment before answering truthfully. “It can be. But like I said, your case was thankfully on the milder side. And it’s good your husband got you here as fast as he did.”

Gazing at Rhett, you reached out to cup his cheek, caressing his skin lightly with your thumb. His blue eyes were focused on you as he turned his head to brush a kiss against the palm of your hand.

“What do we need to do?” he asked, tearing his gaze away from your face to look at the doctor. “Whatever she needs. I want to make sure that the both of them stay safe,” he said, his eyes flicking down to your stomach.

“Bed rest is key,” Dr. Cunningham emphasized firmly. “I suspect pushing your body a bit too hard may have had something to do with this. So limiting all physical activity is crucial.”

“Done,” Rhett nodded, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “She’s not gonna lift a finger, I promise.”

“That also means no sex,” Dr. Cunningham said bluntly, looking between the two of you. “From here on out, you’re going to have to refrain from any sexual activity. We don’t want to risk a placental abruption.”

Rhett nodded again, despite that bit of news being less than enthusing. “Understood,” he said firmly. “Anything to keep the baby safe.”

“I’m also going to write you a prescription for a medication to prevent early labor,” the doctor said, looking at you. At your alarmed expression, he held up his hands. “A precautionary measure, that’s all. Everything is going to be fine. So long as you take your bed rest seriously, you should be able to have a very healthy labor and delivery—at the appropriate time.”

“Thank you, Dr. Cunningham,” you murmured, your head swimming as you tried to take in all this information.

As if reading your mind, Dr. Cunningham smiled and rose from his stool. “I know that was a lot that I threw at you. I’ll give the two of you some time to talk and decompress. We’d like to keep you overnight, Mrs. Abbott, just to monitor things, but you should be good to go tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you,” Rhett said, rising as well and holding out his hand for a sturdy handshake.

“Of course,” Dr. Cunningham nodded, smiling as he stepped towards the door. “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to call.”

As soon as he was gone, Rhett collapsed back into his chair, running his hands down his face and letting out a deep sigh. “Thank God,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “Thank You, God.”

Running your hands over your belly, you were startled when you suddenly felt a swift kick to your lower abdomen.

There she was. There was your baby girl.

Lowering your head, you began to sob all over again, relief coursing through your veins.

“Aw, hey, baby,” Rhett murmured, standing up and leaning over you, brushing your tears away with the tips of his fingers. “Don’t cry. It’s all going to be okay. You heard the doctor. You and baby girl are going to be okay.”

“I know,” you nodded, sniffling. “I can feel her,” you explained, grabbing his hand and pressing it tightly across your stomach.

It took a minute, but you knew Rhett had felt her moving the second his eyes lit up and his face split into the hugest grin you’d ever seen.

“There she is,” he mumbled in awe, crouching down to kiss the spot where he’d felt her kick. “There you are, baby girl,” he said, speaking directly to her. “You gave us a quite a scare. But you’re alright. You and your mama are both alright. I love you both so much, you know that? You’re my whole world,” he told her, massaging your belly with shockingly gentle fingers.

“And you’re ours,” you murmured, running your fingers through his hair.

Rhett lifted his eyes and captured your hand between both of his, peppering it with soft kisses.

“God, you had me so scared, honeybee,” he admitted, stroking your wrist with his calloused fingers.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my whole life,” you confessed in return, biting down roughly on your lower lip to keep from crying again.

Rhett was quiet for a moment, just gazing at you. “Baby?” he prompted, pulling his chair closer to the head of the bed and sitting back down. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded, resting your head back against your pillows.

“On the drive here—well, I know you were upset and barely thinking straight. But you kept saying you should have told me something,” Rhett explained slowly, looking into your eyes. “What was it, honeybee? What should you have told me?”

You lowered your head at his words, shame blazing through you. Dr. Cunningham had said you’d been pushing yourself too hard, which had probably contributed to this condition. Why hadn’t you just been honest with your husband? Why had you tried to keep your troubles from him?

“Baby, please. Talk to me,” Rhett begged, stroking your hand gently.

“I—I should have told you that—that I’ve been struggling these past few weeks,” you confessed, your voice tinged with guilt and regret. “I felt like everything was going so smoothly, and then as soon as my third trimester hit, everything caught up to me all at once. I was tired all the time, and sometimes I would get this terrible pain in my back. And it was hard to do all the things I normally do around the house.”

“Honeybee, why didn’t you tell me?” Rhett demanded, looking hurt that you’d kept this from him.

“I—I’m sorry that I didn’t,” you apologized in a small voice, chin trembling. “You asked so many times if I was okay and I should have just been honest with you. But…I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why?” Rhett pressed, lifting your hand to his cheek. “Don’t you know you can tell me anything?”

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment as you nodded, a few salty tears streaming out of your closed lids. “I know. I do know that. But I didn’t want to worry you. And you just—you seemed so happy, you know? So proud of the fact that everything was going so smoothly with my pregnancy. That it was so easy.” You shrugged your shoulders sadly, voicing out loud the truth that you hadn’t wanted to admit. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Rhett sucked in a breath, his eyes widening as he looked up at you. “Oh, baby,” he breathed out, practically knocking his chair backward in his haste to stand up and take your face in his hands. “Baby,” he said again, kissing you softly. “You could never disappoint me. Never. I’m so proud of you always. Did you really think I would be disappointed that you were having a hard time?”

“I don’t know,” you sniffled, wiping at your nose with the back of your hand. “I just—I wanted you to be happy.”

“Honeybee,” he said gently, stroking your cheek. “I’m happy when you’re happy. The only reason I was so happy that your pregnancy was so easy is because I hate watching you suffer. It had nothing to do with me being proud of you or not,” he said firmly, brushing your hair behind your ear. “I’m so proud of you. So, so proud. Especially after all this.”

You started crying in earnest at his words, the floodgates of your heart opening as you let loose all the worry and anxiety and stress you’d been feeling lately. Rhett just held you and let you cry, rubbing small, soothing circles on your back.

“I love you so much, honeybee,” he whispered, resting his cheek atop your head.

“I love you, too,” you told him, burying your face in his chest.

The two of you sat together in peaceful silence for a while, the soft hum and beeps of monitors the only sounds in the room.

“I’m sorry, Rhett,” you finally said, your voice a little hoarse from all your tears. “I should have been honest with you. I put our daughter’s life at risk because of it.”

“Hey,” he murmured, shaking his head as he cupped your face in his hands. “No blaming yourself. She’s okay, and you’re okay, and that’s all that matters,” he insisted, kissing your forehead.

“I promise I won’t keep anything from you again,” you vowed, resting a hand over one of his and stroking the back of it with your thumb.

“You can always tell me everything, honeybee. Always,” Rhett promised you, lowering his forehead until it was pressed against yours.

“Everything?” you asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Everything,” he nodded.

“Okay, well in that case—I’m a little bummed that we can’t have anymore sex until after the baby comes,” you said, your eyes twinkling as your mouth curved up in amusement.

Rhett blinked a couple times in surprise, then threw his head back laughing. “There’s my honeybee,” he teased, kissing the tip of your nose. “Truth be told, I’m a little bummed, too,” he grinned.

“You really going to hold me to that bed rest rule like you told Dr. Cunningham?” you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“You bet your ass I am, you stubborn woman,” Rhett shot back, arching his eyebrows pointedly.

You laughed aloud at that, poking him affectionately. “But I’m your stubborn woman.”

“That you are, honeybee,” Rhett smiled, running a finger along your wedding band as he took his seat beside you once more. “That you are.”

[visit-ba-sing-se]

misread a prompt about being the last human on earth. still wrote a short story. enjoy.

My name is Sophie Smith. I am the last human on earth, and this is my report for June 28, 2070, day 456 of monitoring. General population: one. Changes since the last report: none. Maintenance work completed.

I save the file for today's report on my memory implant and shift my focus back to the monitor in front of me. A familiar black screen with a familiar white outline of the world map. One small red dot keeps blinking on it, in the middle of a region described as "European Union." If you were to zoom in, you would see that it is located in the middle of a town called Berlin, marked as the capital of a state called Germany.

Not that those things still mean anything anymore.

Zooming out again and seeing the empty map, it seems strange they ever did.

At the beginning back in 2069, there used to be 8.9 Billion red dots. One for every beating heart, monitored from above by space-link satellites. Now only mine remains.

I had singed up to monitor them quite early after the omega variant broke. After wasting years of my life on a - in face of the apocalypse utterly worthless - degree and an even more worthless PhD thesis, it felt like doing something real, and the task was simple: Monitor the development, stay in touch with the other stations all around the world and file a report for each shift.

At first, there were many of us, all in some way believing that we would help save humanity by observing trends and giving out warnings. Instead, we just became the chroniclers of it's decay.

Many didn't even fully witness the first month. The virus was cruel, but at least it took you fast.

You could leave your house feeling great in the morning, only to collapse coughing on the sidewalk before arriving at your bus stop. Or you could get up to make tea in the isolation of your own home, all doors closed and windows shut, and grasp for air on the kitchen floor minutes later. There was no cure, no vaccine, no distancing measure that helped. The virus cut through us like a scythe through a field of weeds, and it soon was more than clear that no amount monitoring would change that. Some volunteers quit. More died. But through a weird twist of fate, I stayed alive.

And I kept going to work, day after day after day, even after the government that had hired me stopped existing, the subway train I used to take became a fighting ground for rats and my shadow was the only one left to walk beside me in the once busy city streets.

And so did the others, who, when I called in "here Berlin, please respond" answered me with "here Warsaw" "here Seoul" "here Mexico-City" "here Tel Aviv". And the less we were, the more we talked. About our lives before. About the people we had loved and lost, about the places we had called home and the dreams we had dreamed, about our favourite books and movies and dishes, about god and fate and about which birds who saw outside their window.

Mostly, I think, it wasn't about what was spoken. It was about hearing another human voice, and the reassurance that you weren't alone that came with it.

And so, we were there to witness as one by one, more of the blinking red dots disappeared. Just like one by one, someone else among us started to cough. It was an unwritten, unspoken and yet unbreakable rule that none of the rest commented when it happened. Some decided to ignore it until their last moments. Most said goodbye. One of us, Alexey, fircely insisted the air in his office was simply too dry when he got the cough. Of course, we all wanted to believe that it was. But only minutes later, the transmission from his channel ended, and one of the at this point 5 remaining red dots in Kyiv vanished.

Like all of theirs did, eventually.

And yet.

"Here Berlin, please respond", I whisper. For the protocol. For the false, poisonous hope that there has been some kind of bug in the system and that someone might still answer. Of course, no one does.

And even though I expected it, the following silence crushes me once again. A lonely tear rolls down my cheek as I rip the headphones off. Just like the voices in them used to be the undeniable proof that I wasn't alone, the static in the channel now is the undeniable proof that I am.

To distract myself, I get up and open the window. It would be easy to jump onto the empty street and make a final exit like that. All things considered, it's a miracle I am still sane enough to not consider this opinion. Even though… probably at this point death would be the sane choice. But something in me still wants to keep going, wants to hold out for as long as I can. It might be irrational, but I feel like this is what I am owe them. All 8.9 Billion.

Unaffected by my dark thoughts and humanities decay, a small sparrow lands on the window stil. It must have flown over from the tree across the street, where a family of them has build their nest.

Diah would have loved to hear that their little ones are now learning to fly.

Diah. She was last one to leave, and the pain of loosing her still feels like a fresh wound. It had only been us for quite some time, and we had stopped logging out or even taking off our headphones. We even, of course disguised as jokes, had started planning how we could meet. We could find a still functional high-speed train and somehow make it work. We could both steal cars. We would just start walking towards each other and meet in the middle between New Delhi and Berlin.

But of course, we wouldn't. And when her time came, the virus didn't even give a warning. One moment, I was listening to her beautiful voice. The next, there was silence. And only one blinking dot left on the monitor. Maybe she didn't even notice that she died. Only I did. Like I noticed so many deaths before. Maybe that is the only advantage of my situation now. The only death I still will have to witness is my own.

Before I can sink deeper into my thoughts, suddenly, I see them. Or to be precise, actually, I hear them first. Voices. Human voices. "I still can't believe it's only been two years since we left," one of them says, "Just look at this mess. Good thing we got out of here early." "Right?!" the other one responds laughing. "And I thought the time on board was stressful, especially towards the end. But it's nothing against whatever the hell happened here."

Humans. Walking, talking, joking humans.

This can't be real. I rush to look at the monitor. Still only one lonely dot. I must have finally gone insane, not being able to stand the thought that I was last anymore. But when I lurk outside again, they are still there, and now close enough for me to recognize more details. Black uniforms with a silver star, black face masks and both carrying a PreciseWeapon. Space-link personal.

Days ago, Diah and I both saw what we had believed to be a small meteor. Instead, it must have been their shuttle entering the atmosphere. I am not insane. This makes sense. This is real. I know that probably should feel relief. Or happiness. Or pride. It surely would make sense to feel that way. After all, I just learned that humanity might still prevail despite everything.

This should be a triumph, or least salvation. And yet, all it feels like is betrayal. "Two years since we left" the man had said. Two years ago, the omega variant hadn't even been discovered. Or at least so I had thought.

'Thank God we got out of here early.'

They knew all along, soon and well enough to "get out early". If the earth had been a house on fire during the last years - as often depicted in political cartoons back when there were still people who drew such things and other who looked at it- they had always known the fire would come. But instead of warning the rest of us, they had snuk out of the house at night, watching it go up in flames from a safe distance. And now, where the dust had settled, they had come back to inspect the ruins and dig through the remains. Only that I was still here. A living dead, covered in ashes with burns on my skin. Still breathing, but surely not nice to look at. So why would they come to pick me up now?

Suddenly, the dominos cascade in line and I sink back into my chair as the realization hits me. They are space-link. The satellites are space-link. They don't show up on the monitor because they are not supposed to. And the PreciseWeapon is meant for me. I shiver. That's why Diah died so sudden and silent.

The virus didn't get her. They did, with one precise shot in the back.

For a moment, I consider running. But just a moment. They could easily track me, and I don't want to spent my last moments being dragged out of a hiding place, nor do I want a bullet in the back.

No.

I want them to look me in the eye. And I want them to know that I know.

I get up from my desk and turn away from the black monitor with the lonely red dot. The door swings open, and the black uniforms enter. They look just like you would think they'd look. Painfully ordinary, with faces reddened by excitement. For just a moment, I see a hint of surprise in their eyes. Then, the uniform on the right nods at the uniform on the left, who reaches for his weapon. If he feels any doubt, he is good at hiding it.

"Go ahead." I say. My voice is calm and firm. I can't say much, not in the short time it takes him to charge, aim and fire. But what I say, I mean. "I already died 8.9 billion times. One more won't matter."

I feel a numb pain as the projectile hits my chest, and then the edge of my table as I stumble backwards against it. And then, just before I hit the ground and my senses fade, I hear it. A cough. A familiar, dry cough. A cough I heard more times than I could count. And that is now coming from the direction of my shooter.

My name is Sophie Smith. I am the last human on earth. And this concludes my final report.

[spnhunter4life]

Familiar Chapter 3

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Here it is! The third and final chapter! It's a little bit of a shorter one, but I hope everyone will still enjoy it!

Part 1 Part 2

Masterlist

Dean was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. He was looking at me with what seemed to be a mixture of smugness and anticipation. He had a small, barely contained smile on his face, and his eyes were bright. I also detected a hint of fondness that softened his features. I looked at Sam next. His face was set in a careful mask of indifference. He may as well have been holding a sign that said, ‘I’m having a very strong emotion right now, but you’re not allowed to see it and you can’t know why.’ I knew trying to ask him questions would get me nowhere.

“Well? Did we figure out what happened?” I asked since no one else seemed inclined to speak.

“Yeah, we did,” Sam answered. “Dean will obviously have more information, but I’m fairly certain we’ve also solved the case we came to town for in the first place.”

I looked to Dean for confirmation.

“Yeah,” he said. “It was the same people. I’ll explain when we get back to the motel.”

“Ok,” I agreed and then turned to Annabelle. “Um. Thanks for your help, I guess?” I said. I was being sincere, but it felt weird to thank someone when you couldn’t actually remember what you were thanking them for. 

“How much do we owe you?” Sam asked.

“It’s on the house,” she smiled. “Call it the hunter’s discount.”

“Thank you,” Dean said. “We really appreciate it.”

Annabelle’s soft, friendly smile turned into a teasing smirk. 

“No problem. I know you got more than you bargained for, so I hope you take advantage of that information.”

“We will,” I said. “We were already after them anyway. Apparently. Solving two things in one makes our lives easier.”

Annabelle and Sam shared a look and Dean tried to hide a small smile.

“What? What am I missing?” I asked. Dean opened his mouth to answer, but Sam quickly interrupted him.

“Nothing. Let’s get back to the motel and Dean can fill us both in.” 

Weird.

“Ok,” I agreed. 

We said our goodbyes and then climbed into the car, heading back to the motel.

~~~~~

Sam’s POV

The drive was made in relative silence. Y/N tried to start a conversation a couple of times, but gave up when both attempts fell flat. I did feel bad. I’m sure she was dying to know what happened. I was practically on the edge of my seat wanting to know more, and I at least had enough visual details to have a fairly clear picture in my head.

But I could see the wheels in Dean’s head spinning, processing everything he’d seen. I couldn’t blame him. I’d promised Y/N I wouldn’t say anything so I’d never talked to him about it, but I knew how much he liked her. If I’d seen what Dean just saw in the head of the girl I loved, I’d probably take a while to process too.

Although, judging by the last comments Dean had made during the trance, he probably wasn’t so much processing as planning. Deciding the best way to use this information. Going over everything again and learning what he could about Y/N’s inner thoughts. Figuring out how he would approach the subject. 

He was the picture of confidence. He’d just found out the girl of his dreams was within his reach. There was no doubt about that. All that was left was actually doing something about it.

Back at the motel, we all walked into our room. I got as far as locking the door behind us when Y/N’s patience finally snapped.

“Can someone explain what’s going on now?” She asked.

“Yeah. We should talk,” Dean said.

Was he really going to start that conversation now?

“Dean, can I talk to you for a second?” I quickly interjected. He looked at me, confused by the urgency in my tone.

“Ok…” he agreed.

“Sorry, Y/N. We’ll be right back,” I promised.

I unlocked the door and we stepped back outside. When I turned around to face Dean, he was standing there expectantly with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Ok, what was that about?” He asked. 

“Listen Dean. I know that you two have been pining after each other for forever now and now that you know she feels the same you want to let her know. And believe me, I’ve been waiting for this to happen for a while too. I’m so excited for you and frankly, if you don’t say something to her soon, I will. But do you really think that’s a discussion to be having right now? Shouldn’t we track down that boy and the woman first?”

“How big of an idiot do you think I am?” He asked. “Obviously we’ll take care of the case first. You really think the first thing I was planning to say to her was that I saw about twenty different dreams she had of us kissing?”

“Well. Maybe not quite so bluntly, but-”

“Sam, I’ve been doing this a long time. I know that the job always comes first.”

He took the couple steps it took to reach the door and I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey. I’m sorry,” I told him. “I wasn’t trying to imply that you don’t know what you’re doing or that you were more concerned with yourself than anyone else. I don’t know. I guess I just…” I trailed off, trying to find the right explanation. “Obviously we don’t have a lot to be happy or excited about. I guess I just figured, of course that’s what you would want to talk about. And I wouldn’t blame you. But I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It’s fine, Sam. I get it. I probably would have assumed the same thing if the situations were reversed.” Then, probably deciding this was too much of a chick-flick moment, he turned to his patented devil-may-care, cocky attitude and smirked at me. “I didn’t know you felt that way about her.”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“You said if I didn’t tell her, you would. I didn’t know you were interested in her.”

“You know that’s not-”

“Sorry, Sam,” he teased. “Looks like the better brother won. The more handsome brother too.”

Ignoring my protests that he knew perfectly well what I meant, he opened the door and stepped back inside. Older brothers. Sometimes they really were the worst.

~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

I was absently wandering around the room, wondering what Sam’s interruption had been about, when the door opened and the boys walked back in.

“Everything alright?” I asked.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine,” Dean assured me. 

“Ok. Well, great! Do I get an explanation now, then? What happened to me and how does it connect to the vics from the article?”

“When you were walking past the alley of the music store, you overheard the witch who’s been killing people in the middle of another murder.” 

Dean explained what happened, Sam occasionally pitching in a visual detail that he thought might be helpful.

“Ok,” I said when they were finished. “So I guess the good news of this whole situation is it makes tracking down our killer significantly easier. We know what the mother and son look like and have a first name. That narrows things down a lot.”

“Yeah. That would be the good news,” Dean agreed. Sam turned away to hide a smile. “There is bad news though.”

“What?”

Dean sighed.

“I hate to say it because I know you liked him, but we have to consider the very real possibility that this is the piano guy’s family. The woman said it was stupid to be killing people right outside his father’s store.”

“You think he might be involved?” I asked, feeling a pit in my stomach at the idea. I’d spent very little time with the man, but Dean was right. I liked him. He was so friendly and passionate about his work. He was one of those people you just instantly liked.

“No. It was pretty clear that, whoever the father is, he’s unaware that his wife and son are witches. Or that magic is even real,” Dean said.

“Well… that’s good at least.” It made it better knowing I wouldn’t have to be killing the kind man. But the thought that it might very well be his family we were getting rid of… well somehow that almost seemed worse. He’d be left devastated and with no understanding of why.

“You don’t look like you feel any better about it,” Sam said. I sighed.

“It’s just… we’re going to be destroying this guy’s world. Is that really any better? Don’t get me wrong. They’re killing people and they have to go. I get that. I just feel bad for the guy. I mean it’s hard to feel good about saving lives when you know you’re ruining someone else’s in the process.”

“You can sit this one out if you want,” Dean offered.

“What? No, I can’t do that. I just need to focus more on the stopping a murderer side of things. I’ll be fine.”

“Hang on. Can we just- can we just talk about this a little more? I mean, are we really sure we should be killing anybody?” Sam asked. Dean gave him an incredulous look.

“He’s killed five people, Sam. He has to be stopped,” he answered.

“Yes, obviously he has to be stopped. I’m not arguing that. But does stopping him really have to mean killing him? It sounds like his mother has it under control. Maybe we just talk to him, warn him what would happen if it ever did happen again.”

“Under control? Killers don’t stop being killers just because their mommy yelled at them. And we know for sure he’s already killed at least one person after being told to stop. If he’s got that kind of temper and if that’s the way he handles his problems, there’s no way he’s not going to kill again,” Dean argued.

“Yes, but-”

“He tried to kill Y/N,” Dean snapped. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Sam looked over to where I was quietly listening to them. His features softened a little and he sighed.

“What about the mother? She didn’t technically do anything.”

“She covered it up. As far as I’m concerned, that’s just as bad as if she’d killed them herself.”

“Alright, fine. They’ve both gotta go,” Sam relented. “I guess we should go track them down then.”

It only took about twenty minutes of asking around to track down the two witches. To my immense relief, they turned out not to be the family of the music store owner. The boy’s father owned the store next door, the one right next to the alley.

It was easy enough to lure them out. I simply walked into the store, asking after a boy named Thomas. I explained that I was having some trouble remembering events from yesterday, but that I was certain I remembered him being there. As expected, both the boy and his mother followed me out to the alley, right into firing range of the waiting hunter brothers.

~~~~~

A couple days later I found myself alone with Dean. He had parked the car on the side of an old, rarely traveled backroad. We had a great view of a small pond, ducks floating lazily across the water, and miles of endless grass and flowers. This is something we did on occasion. When the weather was nice and the view was good, sometimes it was nice to just stop, take a moment to breathe in the fresh air and relax.

I was currently sitting on the hood of the car. Dean walked around the front, a beer in each hand. He gave one to me and then hopped up to sit beside me. 

“What was all that about?” I asked him. As soon as Dean pulled over, Sam had told us he wanted to go for a walk and stretch his legs. Sam wanting to exercise wasn’t unusual. But at this time? This was usually a kind of bonding time for all of us. A way for us all to unwind together.

“All what?” Dean questioned.

“With Sam. Going for a walk. That was weird. Actually, you’ve both been acting weird the past couple of days. What’s going on?”

“I haven’t been acting weird,” he denied. I gave him a disapproving look and he chuckled. “Alright, fine. I’ve been different, I’ll give you that. And maybe to you it seems weird, but it’s actually pretty typical behavior on my part. You’re just not used to me acting that way with you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. He sighed.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about. About when you were in that trance. I’ve just been waiting for the right moment,” he said. 

My stomach dropped. What had he seen? It could be any number of things – private things – that I didn’t want him, or anyone else to see. This is why nobody should be allowed to dig around other people’s heads. And since I was blissfully unable to remember anything, I was content to pretend it never happened and assume nothing private had been found. This seemed to contradict that assumption though.

“Ok…” I said warily.

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad,” he assured me, noting my discomfort. “I obviously got a really detailed, unfiltered view of things in your head. Private things that you maybe wouldn’t have wanted me to know, but that you couldn’t exactly hide from me when I was seeing everything you were,” he started. I didn’t like the sound of that. I took a sip of my beer.

“So I want to even the playing field a little. Tell you a few private things that I never intended for you to know.” He took a sip of his own beer before continuing. “Did you know that I couldn’t believe my luck when you came up to me that day we started hunting together? I thought you were easily one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen, and here I was with the perfect excuse to spend time with you. 

“Truth is, I would have tried to take you home that night if circumstances had been different. But then we just clicked so well, I knew it would be foolish of me to ruin things between us by hitting on you. It was a much smarter move for me to ask you to stay with me. I needed a hunting partner, you were on your own, and I can’t deny that I couldn’t stand the thought of letting you go and maybe never seeing you again.

“I always intended to ask you out eventually, once things were more stable between us and I was sure it wouldn’t mess things up. But as time went on, it seemed better to just let that idea go. I wasn’t getting any hints of particular interest from you, and by then our friendship was too important to me to risk losing.” 

He paused to take another sip of his beer.

“I don’t understand why you’re telling me this,” I said. But I thought I did know why. If he was evening the playing field as he said, then why choose this particular topic to share with me? He could’ve given me any number of private thoughts. If he was telling me this now, I could only assume he’d seen something of my feelings for him and wanted to let me know it was reciprocated. I was beyond giddy at his revelation, of course. But I was also a little scared to know what exactly he’d seen in my head.

“I’m telling you this,” he said with a self-satisfied smile, “because I witnessed enough of your dreams about the two of us together to assume that the feeling must be mutual.”

I doubted I’d ever blushed so hard in my entire life.

“Could you be a little more specific about what you saw?” I asked, taking a big gulp of my beer.

He shrugged and looked out towards the pond.

“A little bit of us out on dates. A little bit of us dancing. A little bit of us curled up together in bed.” He turned to me and smiled. “And a lot of this.”

He reached over, cupping my cheek in his hand and leaning in to kiss me. I responded to his kiss immediately, embarrassment fading away. If this was the result I got from showing him my dreams, I’d show them to him ten times over.

It came as no surprise that he was a good kisser. But that didn’t mean I was prepared for just how good he was. This is what I’d been missing for the past three years? I’d been even more deprived than I realized. 

Then something occurred to me. I broke away from Dean’s intoxicating kiss.

“Son of a bitch,” I mumbled. “This is why Sam left? Oh, I can’t believe he saw all of that,” I groaned. “No wonder he’s been so weird!”

“Are you really thinking about my brother right now?” Dean complained.

“No,” I denied. It wasn’t exactly a lie. It’s not like I’d been thinking about Sam while we were kissing. It was just one of those intrusive thoughts that forced its way into the front of my mind, giving me no option of ignoring it.

“Sorry,” I apologized anyway. “I mean, it’s not like he didn’t know. But there’s a difference between knowing and seeing. Damn. I mean, you seeing is one thing. But Sam…”

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘it’s not like he didn’t know’?”

“He knew I liked you. He’s known for a couple of months. Wouldn’t leave me alone about it, actually,” I told him.

“Well why did you tell Sam that you liked me, but not me?”

“I didn’t tell him! He just found out.” 

Dean looked at me expectantly. I sighed. This was a story I really didn’t want to tell him. It would only piss him off. I wanted to enjoy our moment.

“I’ll tell you some other time,” I promised.

“Why not now?” He asked.

“Would you rather talk about Sam, or enjoy being alone together?”

“Hmm. Tough choice.”

I shoved his shoulder and he laughed, putting an arm around me and pulling me close. We sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the view and the feeling of being so close.

I looked up at Dean, just admiring his stupidly perfect face. Now I was allowed to look and appreciate in a way I never could before. He took another sip of his beer before turning to meet my gaze. He leaned in and connected our lips again.

After a few minutes of this, Dean grabbed my beer, setting it and his own on the ground out of the way. He pulled me with him as he scooted back further on the hood of the Impala and leaned against the windshield so he was in a half seated, half laying position. I turned onto my side so I could reach his mouth easier. 

This wasn’t the most comfortable position though – not to mention we didn’t exactly know when Sam would be back and I felt like he’d seen enough of my personal life regarding Dean as it was – so I broke the kiss and instead curled up into his side. He immediately put his arm back around me.

I let out a content sigh.

“I could get used to this,” I told him. I could easily picture the smile on his face when he answered.

“As good as you dreamed it would be?” He teased. I smiled into his chest.

“Better.”

Tags (let me know if you want to be added or removed) @123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28

Tags for Familiar: @applepie2479 @lacilou

[failing-to-write-again]

A Rainy Conversation; Shu Sakamaki x Reader

(Below audio is rain noise incase this link doesn't work, just for thematic background vibes)

"What a bother, you'll catch a cold and then that will be my problem"

You didn't hear him open the sliding door to the school's roof. He stood under the metal overhang protecting the welcome mat. You crouched on the lip of the bottom stair leading up to the more open area overlooking the sports courts. Instead holding an umbrella over your shoulder as you stared out to the town surrounding the school. The edges of your skirt damp from the cold, shoes shiny from the smattering of water droplets. You don't turn to him like you normally would.

"Heh, or do you just want the rain to turn guys shirts see through...perv."

He walks over, rain quickly causing his blonde curls to clumps and cling to his face, his blazer protected most of his cardigan from the rain. He sat beside you, most of his broad frame protected by the plastic. You then spoke.

"Why do you hang out with me so much?"

He scoffs at your deadpan comment. His hands remain in his pockets and he stretches one leg out straightening it.

"Why would you ask stupid questions like that? You always do."

"Because for all that talk you keep doing weirdly nice things, things that not a month ago would have you proclaiming how much of a bother they are."

His tongue runs across his teeth, a shallow soothing of his shame.

"You're imagining things."

"You've attended every class we have together, and suddenly I'm getting apologises for rude comments or being left out. My bed is now heated whenever you plan on sleeping there. Whenever I wake feeling anemic there's cranberry juice everywhere! And then this you keep talking all casual to me like we're friends."

Your head turns slightly as you look at him through the corner of your eye. Neither of your voices were very loud, the rain drowning you out what few noises of life remained in such weather. Shu's gaze remained transfixed on the ground, head tilted to the side slightly. His shoulders raised and fell slightly as he shifted.

"You cried all night a while ago."

His tone despondent and distant. As if he was somewhere else. His fingers tapped uncharacteristically against the stone, small droplets being flung as they moved. He let the words linger as he considered his next words.

"After the exams, I found your album with the ballet pictures. Then you just looked so sick compared to them, I went to leave and then I heard sobbing. It was you crying in your sleep about being taken away. That man, the priest, you kept saying his name begging him to let you go home."

You scoff, rolling your eyes and looking at your shoes. He looks to you in response.

"I don't see why that would make you act so weird, you don't care about anyone. 'Too mich effort.' That's your catchphrase right. So what you want to fuck up my life more?"

You stand, increasing the distance between you but still keeping him under the umbrellas protection.

"What's your deal?" You spit.

He shrugged.

"I didn't care. But it felt wrong whenever you looked hurt, I thought I wanted to hurt you, but everytime something did it felt horrible. I don't want to care, whenever I care about something it gets hurt. But then when you would fall asleep after I drank you, you never cried in your sleep."

"Shu this all sounds so round about. Just be brief. I'm sick of this!"

Your knuckles turn white gripping the umbrellas handle. Your chin wobbling slightly as you whispered.

"I don't like being played with, so if this is to get blood easier just say and I'll be easier. Because I'm starting to think you like me, and I'm starting to like you. So call me stupid and disappear."

He slowly pushes himself to stand before you. Now entirely out of the umbrellas reach to look down at you.

"You're an annoying pain but it's more of a pain when you're not around now. What you said when you first met me was right, I run away from people. But you, I can't run from without feeling even worse, especially after seeing everything that gets put on you."

His hands touch your waist, ducking under the umbrella as he slips into your space. His head comes to rest on your shoulder, sopping wet locks soaking through your uniform.

"I don't want to run anymore. You don't cry when you sleep next to me, so I'll stay by your side so you don't cry while awake."

Your shoulders begin to shake as tears begin to roll down your face. Your free hand gripping the soft wool of his cardigan tightly.

"You're an asshole. You're meant to say this before you start acting sweet."

"Cruel woman, a man pours his heart out for you and you insult him."

"Said the cruel man with the unbeating heart."

He laughs at that, pulling you closer and taking the umbrella from you. Your hand slips around him in turn. You feel a pressure on your forehead, similar to a kiss.

"It doesn't need to beat to belong to you."

Pulling back he holds your face up wiping some tears away with his thumb.

"Stop crying, it's bothersome"

[theonewhonothingknows]

Power Rangers (2017) fic rec list: (UPDATED: Jan, 2024)

Hello there, as someone who loves this movie, I decided to make a list of fics that’ve read, or am about to read, to anyone who is interested:

Note: I’m only putting here fics that I’ve read. So if someone knows a fic they might want to recommend, let me know! XD  There are currently almost two thousand works on the power rangers 2017 tag on AO3, so be sure to look around and dig for stuff you might like.

NOTE: Remember to check out the author if you like their stories! Leave comments and kudos and reblog stuff you like, apreciation is always important

Illustrated Story: @theone-with-thestuff​ ‘s power rangers sequel: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5 , part 6, part 7 , part 8

MultiChapter fics (post-canon)

Rangers with Attitude by SmokeyCut : A sequel to the movie that is very in synch with the power rangers universe, both in how the story is told and how light it feels. THat doesn’t stop the drama from happening though. Awesome battle scenes and a very engaging take on Tommy, and the 2017 universe as a whole.

Power Rangers 2: Sythesis by SatanSpeaks (mature) : This fic is a piece, it’s another sequel to the movie, but with a much more bleak look on the universe as a well, however, it doesn’t dive too much into it and it has plenty of hopeful moments to spare. It’s a fic that leaves you on the edge of your seat, start to finish, biting your nails hoping everything will work out.

we gladiate but i guess we're really fighting ourselves by sunnydalehart: “The rangers don't really know what they're doing, but they really are trying their best.” -- Another post-canon fic with good romance, and team-bonding, check it out!!! (Trimberly) (Billy/ Jason/Zack)

Power Rangers 2: Rise of the Green Ranger by IzzyIniguez: Rita loses her coin, but finds a new power.  The rangers learn to be a team and meet the Tommy and Tamsin Oliver, the new (twin) kids in town. Sparks fly and tempers flare between Kim and Tommy, and Trini and Tamsin. I think this might be one of the most original takes on 2017 Tommy Oliver out there.

Short-stories:

 5 Times Jason Scott Was Protective of His Team by notawriters: Jason-centric goodness!!!!      

Zack Taylor Designated Driver Squad by iwasnthere622 : Zack didn't have the best school record. His friends help him fix that. -- This isn’t as much a sequel fic as it is a Zack sequel fic, exploring his life after becoming a ranger, and how he relates to his new friends. The chapters go through his bond with each of the rangers, and it’s an amazing piece of Zack Taylor fanfic, enriching what we already saw in the movie. One of my all time favourites!!

Been There, Done That by TaikoTurtle: The team has a bonding camping trip up on the mountains, but after a series of unfortunate events, Kimberly has to figure out how to make things right, including her feelings.

One More Ride by magimumu: (NEW!) : Uber driver Trini picks up Kim on a rainy evening. (TRIMBERLY)   (This short one is amazing! Like poetry! Can’t recommend enough!)

One-Shots:

***NEW!!!!! - (This is) Good Weird -  by Laslus -----  Poly Rangers fic!!! -  Or: The Huge Colective Denial of FeelingsThe first time Trini notices, they are around the fire. She looked at the whole picture, feeling the warmness she usually felt when hanging with them, how she finally felt like she belonged somewhere. She should focus on that, on the happiness she felt as they sang off tune, how they were a picture together. Oh.

All of the Above  by songofsunset : This short one shot is a perfetc mood setting piece, with rangers hanging out. In a few senteces, it grasps both each ranger’s personallities and the nature of their both. Sweet fluffiness all around.

Just let me love you when your heart is tired by milkyegg_carton: A cure little fluff about the aftermath of the battle with Goldar!!

walk me home by twoorangecookies: A nice little, well, it’s canon complaint but it’s sort of a missing scene, but it’s also sort of an AU where Kim asks Trini to walk her home.

Campfire Dance-Off by Skyland2704: team bonding fluffiness!

we carry each other (we’re just different colors) by hearden: This is a fascinating fic, about the rangers before being rangers! Seriously! There are so many character beats, and a very good grasp on the characters!!

am i the only living soul around by younglegends: A story told backwards,going from the aftermath of the movie to the very beginning. Again, another rich story exploring the characters and their core! An awesome read about the power rangers that really makes a point about their evolution and their bond in face of their sttrugles. I always go back to this fic for inspiration.

Do Better by iwasnthere622: One of the best jason centtric fics out there, exploring his role as leader and the way he shoulders the burden.

Dildo Wars  by cabooseachievables : I think this is one of the most fun pieces of fanwork I’ve ever read, seriously, just pure delight from start to finish as the rangers start a prank war between themselves.

**********NEW!!!!!!!!! Riding Shot Gun by zipzipnada:   --Kimberly finds out her new friends have never tried weed before, and knows for a fact Jason is a shotgun king.

Shipping Fics:

BY THE WAY, THE AUTHOR tworangecookies has plenty of Trimberly works if you’re interested, I can’t recommend enough to check them out, you’ll definetly find something for your tastes, both on AO3 and on tumblr @5ivebyfive. Another tumblr with fics in this universe is @magicmumu2

you’re my sunshine by titaniaeli: Short, fluff, and engaging, basically a tale of Jason falling in love with his team. (RANGER POLYCULE)

 in a hopeless place by twoorangecookies: (AU) This is one of my favorite fics. It’s an Outsiders AU, and I never had contact with The Outsiders, but I do love how consistent the rangers are even in an Alternative universe. This fic is well paced, and leaves tense with each cliffhanger, not to mention the forbidden romance, which is just *cheff’s kiss. (TRIMBERLY)

The Heart part 1 by The Otter Limits: While this fic is a sequel to the movie, I’m putting it here, because its main focus is the relationship between Trini and Kimberly. I really love this fic because it has a very heavy dose of Angst. I’m not sure it’s everyone’s cup of tea, but I do love the melodrama involved. Also, there is some neat world building about the rangers’ powers and the universe they live in. (TRIMBERLY)

The Hunt For Love by magicmumu: Awesome Valentine’s day Fluff, what else can you wish for? Honestly, the dialog between the characters as they go on an scavenge hunt it’s so amazing, you can’t help reading this with a smile on your face. Can’t recomment enough. (TRIMBERLY)

Fire meet gasoline by twoorangecookies: (mature) A cute little soccer AU, with that good old rivals to lovers premise. What more can I say? Go check it out!! (TRIMBERLY)

Clarity by thebrightestbird: I think this was the first time I read about this ship, and interestingly it immediately spread to be fond of it in the tv show universe as well. Great stuff!!!  (ZACK/JASON) 

with my feelings on fire (guess I'm a bad liar) by movingforthesakeofmotion: The one where a date night turns into exposed secrets and discoveries. (TRIMBERLY, CRANSCOTT)

We can have all that we ever wanted by theshipstorulethemallwrites: 5 Times Someone Thought The Rangers Were Dating and 1 Time They Were

EXPLICIT FICS:

Turning sweet love into poison by twoorangecookies: (EXPLICIT) this fic is Intense, and I really advise you to look into the tags before going in. It deals with heavy subjects like body dysmorphia, so be mindful. Now that that’s out of the way, this fic is delicious to read, two traumatize characters navigating a complex situation, it has all those spices for those who love some heavy Angst in their romance. (TRIMBERLY)

Legacy of Power by Hearden (Mature, but the collection has Explicit fics): (INCOMPLETE) .This fic is interesting because it’s sort of a nice multiverse mix between the tv show and the movie, with the simple premisse of having TV Kimberly and Tommy meeting the 2017 rangers. It’s one amazing fic, very well written with an awesome premisse and solid character work. It’s specially awesome to see two versions of Kimberly knowing and interacting with one another.

*****NEW !!!! -- Shut up and Drive -  by Twoorangecookies --  (Sort of a power rangers meet Fast and Furious, but R rated 😈)  Trini is looking forward to start her new career as a rookie cop. She isn't the best at relationships, so she goes out one night just looking for a thrill. Then she stumbles on a scene that is not her scene at all and more thrill than she asked for, and she meets a woman that is the most annoying, obnoxious woman she's ever met. A woman she wouldn't go for in a million years. At least...that's what she thinks.

PS: I have to say, it’s really interesting to go through fandoms, not only to meet how diverse people’s interpretations can be, but how rich and creative they are as well. Just the ammount of Tommy Olivers I’ve seen for the 2017 universe is stagering, not one version is the same, and that, I think, is also very precious.

Anyway, remember to comment, reblog, and all that stuff that shows authors your apreciation. Feel free to add fics you might’ve read and are not here, I’ll sure try to do so as I find new ones. I tried to categorize stuff as best as I could.

[eddieschains]

Virgin!Eddie X Fem!Reader

Massive thank you to @choke-me-joey for helping me on this one!! Love you to pieces 🥰

Just a reminder that i am taking requests and also… virginity is a construct

TW: 18+, drug use, Jason and Chrissy making out, Steve Harrington is bad at sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Eddie Munson. The freak. The weirdo. The cult leader. And surprisingly, the virgin.

You and Eddie were becoming fast friends when you accidentally walked in on a hellfire meeting while looking for after school study hall. He made some sarcastic and borderline mean comment about you interrupting, but after seeing what he was like in the school cafeteria, you knew he didn’t mean it. He saw you sitting on the sidewalk after his campaign was over, and drove you home when your dad didn’t show. The two of you had practically been attached at the hip ever since.

You and Eddie had created a friday night tradition of getting high at skull rock, watching the constellations, then going back to his trailer for snacks and a movie. You had just pulled up to skull rock, gathering your supplies before looking beside you. You see another car parked next to Eddie’s. Being the nosy person you are, you look over to see Jason and Chrissy inside. They had their tongues shoved down each other’s throats in the front seat.

“Ed.” You tapped him on the shoulder. He turns towards you as you point to the car next to you.

“Is that?” He doesn’t finish his sentence before you start nodding anxiously.

“Goddamn it i just wanted to smoke some weed.” He pouts.

“Well isn’t Wayne out of town for the weekend? Can’t we just do it at your place?” You ask, frantically wanting to leave this situation.

Eddie nods, stuffing his supplies back into his tin box. “Yeah we can do that. Kind of ruining our tradition though.”

You put your hands up and shrug. Implying an oh well. He turns the engine back on, putting the car in gear and driving off.

Eddie pulls into the driveway and you hop out running into the trailer. He grabs you some sweatpants and a shirt to change into for the night while he makes some popcorn for your movie night.

“What movie are we watching?” You ask while rummaging through his movie case.

“You can pick tonight. Forgot to stop at family video.” He sits on the couch, bringing the bowl of popcorn with him.

“Ooh! Footloose?” Eddie whips his head around.

“I own footloose?” He asks. You hold up the tape in your hand, wiggling your eyebrows up and down. “Fine. You’re lucky i like you enough to suffer through it for you.”

“You like musicals.” You put the VHS in before plopping down on the couch next to him.

“Some musicals. Footloose is just a bunch of horny teenagers trying to fuck each other without anyone knowing.” He rolls a joint, lighting it and handing it to you. He always let you have the first hit, knowing it would hit you hit you harder than it would him and you’d enjoy it more.

You sat there passing the joint back and forth, stuffing popcorn into your face until Eddie piped up.

“So Jason and Chrissy.” He states.

“Yeah. Jason and Chrissy.” You respond, uninterested.

“You ever done what… what they were doing?” You turn to him, confusion written on your face.

“Made out?” Eddie nods. “Yeah i’ve made out with people Eddie.” You snort.

“With people? As in multiple?” He always asked weird questions when he was high, but usually bounced between subjects once you answered.

“Yes i’ve made out with multiple people. Is that bad?” Eddie shakes his head.

“No no of course not. I just- have you ever done anything more?” He stumbles over his words.

“Like sex? Yeah i’ve had sex Eds. What are you getting at?”

“What does it feel like?” His curiosity was killing him.

“I mean it can feel good or it can feel bad. Depends on who you’re with.” Eddie just nods, returning his gaze back to the TV.

“Harrington is shit at it.”

He snorts out a laugh, “That’s probably why he can’t keep a girlfriend.” Taking another hit from the joint.

“Eddie?” He turns back to you. “Are you a virgin?”

He looks down, playing with his hands in his lap. “I mean i fingered that one girl in the back of the hideout once. But… that’s pretty much it.”

“Do you want to have sex?” You place your hand on his thigh, feeling it twitch at your touch.

“I mean of course i want to have sex. Just… just haven’t found anyone that wants to do it with me.”

“I will.” You move closer to him, your chest pressed against his arm.

“Y/N… i cant- i can’t do that.” He stands up to throw the but of his joint in the trash.

“And why not? You’re comfortable with me aren’t you?” You respond, wondering why someone who was so eager to have sex is turning it down.

“Because i like you.” He blurts out. Your eyes feel like they’re going to pop out of your head. “Fuck im sorry.”

“No no it’s okay. Come here.” You pat the seat next to you, inviting him back to the couch.

“I like you. I like you a lot. And i was trying really hard not to act on those feelings because i like what we have right now and i don’t want to ruin it. But seeing Jason back there- it made me think of how badly i wanted that to be me and you.” You don’t know what to say. You’re shocked. Shocked that your best friend has just confessed his feelings for you, and that you feel the same way. “Fuck i shouldn’t have said anything.” You grab his face and pull him into a kiss. It’s quick, but rough.

When you pull away, Eddie is left staring at you. His big eyes burning into your skin. It was rare for him to be at a loss for words.

You wrap your legs around his waist, straddling him before kissing him again. This time you’re savoring it. Putting more passion into it as his hands find their way onto your hips.

“If you want me to stop just say so. We can forget this ever happened.” You say, not wanting him to feel pressured to do anything.

“Babe, i just told you how much i like you and how much i’ve been dying to fuck someone. Put two and two together.” You laugh into his neck, placing another peck to his lips before lifting your shirt over your head. Wearing no bra, you’ve now exposed your chest to him.

He just sits there, staring at your tits in awe, not knowing what to do next. You grab his hands and place them on your chest, letting him squeeze his hands over them.

“You’ve never touched anyones boobs before?” He shakes his head mumbling uh-uh.

You hold his hands on top of your boobs, guiding them around your chest.

“This okay?” He asks breathily.

“Yeah yeah this is good. You can play with my nipples too.” He grabs your nipples between his fingers, twisting them around. “Yes oh my god like that.” You bury your head into his neck, kissing and sucking while grinding yourself on his crotch. “Wanna fuck you Ed. Please, wanna feel you inside of me.”

Eddie groans into your ear before attaching his lips to yours. You reach your hand in between the two of you, palming his dick under his pants. You stand up to take your sweatpants off, pulling your underwear with them.

“Oh my god…”’Eddie groans at the sight of you. “You’re so- fuck.”

“Pants off pretty boy.” You smile at him. He eagerly undoes his belt and pulls his pants down to his ankles. You straddle him again, grinding your naked pussy on his hard cock, coating it in your wetness. “Ready?” You ask, Eddie’s head nodding so fast you’re scared he’s going to snap his neck.

Reaching down you grab his member, sliding it up and down your cunt, taking in the sounds coming from his mouth, before slowly pushing it inside of you.

“Oh shit.” Eddie wraps his arms around your back, holding on to you for leverage as you sink yourself all the way down.

“Fuck you’re so big Eddie. Fill me up so good.” You begin to grind back and forth slowly, letting him get used to the feeling of being inside of you. Both of your heads are buried in the others neck, moans and groans seeping into each other’s ears. “Gonna go faster now okay?” You breathe on to him.

Lifting your head from his neck, you place your hands on his shoulders before lifting yourself up and back down quickly. His eyes start to shut as you grab one of his hands from your waist and place it on your chest. He grabs your mound and starts to squeezing and kneading the way you had shown him earlier.

“That’s it baby. Just like that. Such a good boy for me.” Eddie throws his head back, a loud moan escaping his mouth at your praise. You keep bouncing up and down, feeling him deeper each time you slam back down. “Eddie, you okay?”

“What? Yeah im fuckin great.”

“You’re not talking. This is the quietest i’ve heard you.” You laugh.

“Didn’t know i was supposed to.” Eddie’s cheeks flush red.

You grab onto his face, pushing your foreheads together, still bouncing up and down. “Just tell me how it feels. Tell me if i’m doing okay or if you want something different.” He nods, wrapping the arm that wasn’t on your tit around your back.

“Feels so good. So fucking wet and-shit- and tight.” He starts bucking his hips up to yours, earning louder moans from you. “Think im gonna cum soon.”

“Me too. Go ahead cum for me Eddie, wanna feel it.” Your words push him over the edge, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you as his body tenses. It’s not long until you’re doing the same. The feeling of his orgasm triggers your own, feeling the walls of your push clench and tighten around him, earning one last moan from him.

You lay on top of him, keeping his cock inside of you while placing small soft kisses on his neck. “You’re not a virgin anymore.”

He laughs, “That i am not. Kind of hoping i’m not single anymore too.” You look up at him, smashing your lips on to his. “Nope. Not single either.”

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 16

I'm in dire need of a trip to the Stardrop Saloon. I have been working my ass off on this farm non-stop, and a couple glasses of ice cold beer from Gus is going to do just the trick.

"Long time no see, Gus!" I holler as I enter the saloon.

"Ahhh Danny! Good to see you. I've heard lots about what you've been up to, but haven't gotten to see you," he replies as I take a seat at the bar.

"What do you mean you've 'heard what I've been up to'?"

"Oh you will regret you asked that. I'm sure they will answer everything you are questioning." Gus points to the arcade where the group usually hangs out. All of them are aware of my arrival and are waiting like hungry dogs for me to walk over there. Even Emily starts walking out from behind the counter and takes me by the arm to walk me over. I fumble to grab the handle of the beer Gus passed me just before we started walking away. This was not how I expected my night of relaxing to go. Instead, I am now being involuntarily investigated for who knows what.

"I didn't do it, whatever it was!" I shout, making myself sound guiltier than before.

Everyone had looked at me with confusion, but then burst out laughing.

"Can we not just want to hangout with you?" Maru chirps. I give her an accusing stare. I notice she looks at the others in the room with a suspicious look.

"Hey where is Haley?" I had noticed the spot beside Alex where she usually sits is empty.

"Got 'em," Sam says a little too loudly. The crowd, including me, shoots him a dirty look. He quickly puts his hand over his mouth as if the words just accidentally slipped out.

"What do you mean 'got 'em," I quiz Sam. He gives me a wide-eyed stare and slowly just shakes his head, not wanting to answer my question. I hear some of the group groan, some just put their hand on their forehead in disappointment.

"Jas saw you and Haley getting down and dirty, quite literally, in Aunt Marnie's cow pen. She told everyone," a voice chimes in from behind. When I turned around to see who spoke, it was Shane. He was standing in the exact same spot by the fireplace with a beer in his hand.

"Well aren't we mature, guys? Couldn't just come flat out and ask me!" I throw my hands up in the air when I turn back to look at them.

"We didn't want to...I don't know... center you out?" Leah tries. She makes a cringe face, knowing her comment did not help.

"You guys did an amazing job doing that," I clap my hands sarcastically. I won't lie, I am kind of amused at their attempt at subtleness. "Just because you guys tried so hard, I will stick around. DON'T over do it or I will leave."

Resting against the side of the pool table, facing the majority of the room, I take a sip of my beer and hold it out as if telling them to 'go on'.

"Well we all saw you guys dancing together at the Flower Dance of course. What was that about? Elliot wags his eyebrows as he asks.

"She didn't have a dance partner," I looked at Alex for a split second, then turned back and continued, "and I also didn't have a dance partner so naturally we just partnered up. That's not anything weird."

"You know what I meant, Danny."

I sheepishly look down at my muddy boots and tap them anxiously on the hardwood floor.

"You guys had a lot of chemistry going on there..." Abigail pitches in.

"Then we hear that you guys were getting it on in Marnie's cow pen?" Sebastian joins.

"We weren't 'getting it on'!" I howl in embarrassment while doing air quotes. I now truly know what it's like to not have privacy in this town.

"My sister hasn't stopped talking about you whether she knows she is doing it or not. Everyday it's 'Danny this. Danny that'. No offense, but I don't need to hear everything it is you are doing, or are planning to do," she gives me a friendly laugh. I know she didn't mean harm, but I couldn't stop focusing on the fact that Haley is talking about me all the time.

"She talks about me?" I inquire while slightly blushing, somehow forgetting that everyone is listening to me.

Sam perks up and aggressively sticks his hand out to me as a way of saying their point is proven.

"She isn't into me! She isn't even into girls. I don't know what you guys want from me. She is always on and off again with Alex which means she is clearly into him. Enough to keep going back." This has just turned into a big finger pointing game.

"Leave me out of this," Alex throws his hands up in surrender.

"Just like you randomly left her alone on the day of the Flower Dance? Do you know how much that means to her? And for someone else even! Who does that?" I snapped at him.

The room falls silent. No one dares to say a peep. My breath is heavy and unsteady. My anger level is starting to boil over.

"If you're into Haley just admit it and get this over with," he quietly and calmly replies.

"FINE! You guys want me to admit it? I'm into Haley! Are you all happy now?" I finally break, dramatically throwing my arms out to the sides with each sentence.

"We all knew, Danny. You didn't hide it well. We just wanted you to admit it and not think you have to hide it." Maru says gently.

"Why would I admit it when it makes no difference in how things are? She isn't into me and never will be. I'm nowhere even near her type. She hates how dirty I always am from being outside. She hates the way I dress. She hates the farm smell that lingers on me. She hates everything about me." I lay back onto the pool table, contemplating everything being said.

"The way she looks at you says otherwise," Penny quietly says.

"You're just saying that to make me feel better, but thank you for trying." I poke my head up as I speak to Penny, but rest it back down after.

"She was actually here the whole time," I hear Sam say. I quickly jump up off the pool table and look for her. I can't believe she just heard me say all that.

"I'm just fucking with you," Sam cracks up uncontrollably, swinging his body around as he laughs. Sebastian, who is sitting right next to him, puts his hand on Sam's shoulder and just shakes his head.

"Haha very funny," I shoot back sarcastically as I roll my eyes. I go back to just leaning on the pool table.

"Just tell her how you feel," Sam has finally stopped his laugh attack to pitch in.

"Just for her to go back to Alex eventually and hate me for ever being around her? Absolutely not. She'd be so disgusted if she found out I was into her and creeped out by the fact we hung out often."

"She wouldn't think that-," Emily tries.

"Did she tell you that?" I cut in before she could finish her sentence.

"No but-" Emily attempts once again. I throw my hand up to silence her and angrily leave the arcade.

"I'm not risking my pride and dignity just to get shot down," were the last words I called back before leaving the saloon all together.

[misskattylashes]

Okay, so…..to add to my theory that all is not well in the state of Alex and Louise and their ‘cute’ TM relationship.

This is a collation of her posts from this year’s leg of The Car Tour (I hasten to add there were none at all last year for the South American leg, or the Australian leg this year.)

So we start with Tokyo (top left). Louise, subtle as a brick as usual, poses in Alex’s blue Lacoste top and a pair of oversized sunglasses with a caption saying she is going somewhere she has always wanted to go and the poster behind is a clue. It is a Japanese poster. Then once she was there, we had stories of her trip there, asking for recommendations of places to go.

Next comes Paris. On both days she posted her outfits of the day on her stories, along with photos of her and her dad, and the band performing on stage with the obligatory ‘Mon amour’. Then of course we get the post of her adventures at the Paris gig, along with the polaroid of her and Alex (conveniently posted on the day the internet went cray cray at the leaked picture of Milex at the Scott Walker gig)

London….well she really went to town with London. On the day after Miles posts himself on the Eurostar saying he was ‘coming home to you London’, and two turtle emojis, Pauline posts a picture of a hand hanging out of a car, saying she was getting the Eurostar treatment. We then get endless stories, one of which is her in the bath watching the film ‘Ice Cold in Alex’ (I shit you not), then her outfit of the day blah blah blah. Then of course we get the infamous post with the bed and her holding Alex’s jacket (one he stopped wearing a year ago – hardly the brown Celine Milex jacket)

But something weird happens with Glastonbury. She posted stories about going there. But she only posted one of her outfit, then…radio silence. Then we have Alex’s weird behaviour on stage with the Frank Sinatra song Don’t Worry About Me (about dumping someone) and the mystery of why Rosie, Miles’ manager was backstage with the Monkeys, and yet Miles never appeared.

Then Pauline posts her Glastonbury stories. No mention of Alex. All mentions of Alex restricted in the comments. The photos are all of her having fun with everyone except her ‘boyfriend’

Rome... We had no outfit of the day, just a photo of her at the gig taken by a fan. Then the next day she posts a professionally shot video of her running to side stage to watch the band. Shortly after that, we have a post about Rome with one minor mention of Alex in her caption. But no photo taken with him.

Then we have the ‘holiday’ snaps, when the world finally got to see that the ‘cute’ couple look awkward around each other, and that the whole shoot was prearranged with a paparazzi agency. Then of course, there is a picture of Alex coming home to London two days afterwards - even though Louise was still in Italy - and even more interesting, two days before the release of his buddy’s fifth album!!

So, we finally come to the US. Since the Monkeys went to the US, she went to stay with Amanda in LA. Then the week they were due to play New York, she flew to NY, making sure she takes pictures of herself doing stuff. Even though the Monkeys were in Canada. Then we get to the gigs last weekend. No stories from her. No outfit of the day. I didn’t even know she had gone to the gig until someone pointed out to me that one of her friends had posted a video of her there with Amanda (of course). She is dressed down, looking like a regular concert goer. Not a rock star’s girlfriend. She went to the infamous pool party but never posted about it. But the girl who did post it made it seem she spent most of the evening with her, chatting – despite her ‘boyfriend’ being there chatting to various ‘ladieeess’. Added to that the ‘distant’ pictures of them walking along, which claim to have been taken by every person in New York on that day.

I think we are being prepared for the breakup. If the theory is to be believed that she is a beard with a five year contract, well they were officially announced as a couple in mid September 2018, so the time is probably almost up.

I mean in all fairness it could just be that she has been told to stop making such a big deal of it because it looks like a publicity stunt (ahem) but there is also the fact that she is pretty much absent from social media. Except the other week when Miles was doing his gigs and posting a lot, we had a few posts from her with pretty pointless things.

So, I don’t know. Are they heading for a breakup and this is the publicity people’s way of preparing the fangirls for the worst? Or do they just have a really weird and distant relationship? One that involves interacting as little as possible?

[lemonluvgirl]

Make Me has been Updated

So recently I had a very nice reader point out in the comment section that in my Modern AU fic Make Me, Peeta seemed to get overpowered by Gale too quickly in their fight considering I wrote Peeta as a college wrestler who had won a wrestling scholarship. I actually thought that was a very good point and with the help of that kind reader, I did some research and added some more plot to the fight scene in chapter 1. Then writing for this universe got me inspired again and today I decided to write a continuation of Katniss and Peeta's romantic night at Peeta's apartment. So, more Gale getting his ass kicked has been added as well as more Everlark smut. I am feeling pretty happy with the way the revisions and added content turned out! So if you haven't read it before, or if you have and want to read more, You can check out the new and improved version of Make Me AO3.

Excerpt from Chapter 1:

It was supposed to be an ordinary Saturday night. The kind where I met my best friend for drinks at the local hole in the wall, and hustled some miners out of their pocket change. They were usually easy marks who paid more attention to the way my ass looked in my short denim shorts while I lined up a shot, than the actual game.

But a little into the first half hour, while patrons were still trickling in slowly, the mood in the bar changed from relaxed to filled with some kind of unnamable tension. It was still early, too early for any drunken disagreements to break out, but the tense mood lingered. I shrugged it off as Gale and I started to prepare for our first game.

The first time I noticed him was when he stood in front of the bar but didn’t sit down. He just held up a finger as he gave the bartender his order. His hair was pale blond, and he had a thicker build than most of the olive-skinned men from the Seam. I only caught a side glimpse of his face, and then the crowd flowed around him, obscuring him from view.

Well, an outsider coming into our bar certainly explained the weird feeling I’d gotten earlier. I chalked it up to obliviousness, maybe a traveler passing through who didn’t know the customs of the locals.

The second time I noticed him was when he slowly sauntered over to the pool table that all of the regulars at the bar knew as my and Gale’s spot. At first, he just seemed familiar, but the closer he got the more familiar he appeared. He walked up to us and placed a quarter on the rail, at the same time I placed him, and where I knew him from.

“I call next,” the blond guy said in a voice too cheery for the dreary establishment we all called The Hob. He was taller than I remembered but still stocky, and broad-shouldered. I wondered what he was doing here on a Saturday night.

The only identifying mark outside this place was a busted neon sign labeling it ‘Bar’. He couldn’t have chosen to come in here based on the aesthetics, or the welcoming atmosphere. This place was usually only frequented by exhausted miners and out-of-work Seam residents, and he stuck out like a sore thumb. He was wearing a plain dark blue button-up, some faded dark wash jeans that still looked serviceable and his brightly colored sneakers had seen better days but she was sure at one time they had been expensive, like the rest of his slightly out-of-date outfit.

Beside me, Gale laughed.

“I think you missed your exit Merchie. The townie bar is 4 streets over,” Gale told the guy, who I went to school with from elementary to high school. He had been the youngest son of the baker, valedictorian in my class, and captain of the wrestling team. I vaguely remembered the circumstances surrounding his reappearance in our podunk town.

His father passed away last year. People said their family bakery was in trouble, and the former golden boy had to move back home because his university scholarship had been cut when he blew out his knee. A string of unfortunate events seemed to plague the kind boy I once knew.

All that and his pale merchant good looks weren’t winning him any popularity contests tonight. At least not in this place.

“It's a free country,” Peeta Mellark said, voice firm instead of placating like I assumed he would be. He had a reputation for being a nice guy back in school, not a push over since he was strong and athletic, but more….gentle than anything.

But right now Peeta’s blue eyes didn’t look gentle. They looked immovable and hard as he met Gale’s gray gaze, stare for stare. It was a little shocking to see him so…unintimidated by my 6’3” best friend who could scare off guys who sniffed too closely around our pool table in a heartbeat.

I elbowed Gale in the ribs to cut the tension and the macho male bullshit going on. He turned to me with a scowl.

“Your turn to break,” was all I said.

Gale grunted and took up his pool stick, as Peeta leaned against the side wall watching.

I turned my back to him, hoping he’d get bored and leave eventually.

But he didn’t.

He stayed through the entire game, and I could feel his eyes on my back. Although he didn’t outright leer when I leaned forward to take my shots like some of the other guys were known to. Several times I caught his eye, but he always looked away or covered it by lifting the mug of beer to his lips, his stare getting lost in the dissipating foam.

Eventually, I kicked Gale’s ass, like I usually did on a Saturday night. When the last ball sunk into the pocket, my best friend handed over five bucks with a scowl but didn’t leave to go get us some drinks like he normally would. Instead, Gale stuck around and eyed Peeta watchfully like he was a wild animal lurking around one of his game trails, waiting for Gale’s back to turn so it could swoop in and steal a catch from one of his snares.

Peeta, seemingly unbothered by Gale’s lingering presence, took up a pool stick and a cue and ignored Gale’s glare. He instead looked over at me expectantly.

I looked back at him with a neutral expression. If he wanted to spend his Saturday night in a shitty bar, losing his money to a known pool shark like me, who was I to argue?

“It's your turn to break right?” Peeta asked me in a voice I almost mistook as shy. And when I looked closer at him, he smiled a little at me. It was…sort of adorable? I wasn’t used to guys giving me such blatant puppy dog eyes and sunny smiles with just the right hint of self-consciousness.

I nodded, fighting off a blush, and was about to ask him whether he wanted to be solids or stripes, but before I could, Gale cut in.

“She’s not gonna play with you,” he said in a menacing voice.

My head snapped quickly in Gale’s direction, and now I could see there wasn’t just dislike in his eyes, but something akin to fury.

“I didn’t know you were her keeper,” Peeta replied, as he shifted his gaze to Gale who crossed his arms over his chest. There was something icy in his tone that I had not ever heard before.

I was taken aback for a second by the bizarre turn of events. Sure, my long-time best friend had always been protective of me, but this was downright ridiculous. What did he think Peeta Mellark was gonna do? Shank me with a pool stick in the middle of the bar in front of a crowd of witnesses?

“He’s not,” I bit out the words to cut off Gale’s answer before he spoke. “Grab a drink, Gale. Or take a walk. I’ll be done here in a bit,” I ordered, fed up with his posturing and bad attitude.

“I’ll do that once this merchant asswipe gets the hell outta our bar,” Gale said, undeterred.

Before I could tell Gale what an absolute idiot he was making of himself, Peeta answered.

“Why don’t you come over here and make me?” in a challenging voice.

“Crap,” I muttered right before Gale took a step forward. The night was turning out decidedly differently from how I had envisioned my weekend going.

My heartbeat kicked into overdrive as I watched Gale square up against Peeta, but for his part, Peeta didn’t look even the least bit worried. He eyed Gale’s advance calmly, with almost lazy curiosity. He slowly set his empty beer glass down on the built-in shelf by the pool table and rolled his shoulders back with a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. 

“I’m gonna wipe the floor with you, pissant,” Gale said in a low, threatening tone, as he stepped into Peeta’s space, rearing up to his full height which was an intimidating 6’3. Gale probably had a good 4 or 5 inches on Peeta, (even though Peeta was broader and way more muscular) but Peeta didn’t look intimidated at all. It looked like he was welcoming this confrontation. 

Which was crazy. Just batshit insane. 

“Whatever you say, big guy.” Peeta mocked, in a cheery sarcastic tone. 

“Knock it off, you guys. Stop causing trouble.” I said, hoping to diffuse the situation, even though I knew it was a long shot. Gale was like a bull when he got mad. It took very little to wind him up and make him see red. Which was one of the main reasons we broke up. He had such a damn temper. 

Gale ignored me, which was no big surprise. But Peeta’s eyes flicked over to me and I saw indecision flicker in them for a brief second. I knew it couldn’t be because of fear, he wasn’t scared of Gale, I somehow knew that, but when he saw my disapproval he seemed reluctant for a second. 

Unfortunately, Gale used that momentary distraction to his advantage and he sent a punch flying directly for Peeta’s stomach. 

I cried out in dismay at Peeta’s impending pain, but before Gale’s punch could connect, Peeta dropped low and twisted away smoothly. 

He slipped out of Gale’s reach and Gale stumbled, losing his footing when his momentum kept going instead of being halted by Peeta’s body. 

Quick as a flash, Peeta turned Gale’s momentary coordination against him and through some kind of wrestling wizardry got his arm around one of Gale’s tree trunk legs and just-flipped him. Freaking, honest to God, just flipped my giant-ass best friend over like a sack of potatoes.

I hadn’t even gotten over my shock before Peeta was on Gale’s back, twisting his arm up and Gale was planted face-first into the floor, howling and cussin’ up a storm. 

“Give it up, buddy.” I heard Peeta saying, as if from far away, yet he was only a few feet in front of me. But my mind was still spinning. “You’re not getting out of this until you say the word,” Peeta said in a patient voice, talking to Gale like he was a small, misbehaving child. 

The entire bar was standing up, watching by now. When my eyes flicked up to the crowd that had gathered around, I was relieved to see as many astounded expressions on a good number of faces, glad I wasn’t the only one surprised by the turn of events. 

A few on-lookers dared to call out questions about who started the fight, and whatnot. Which I quickly answered in truth, pinning the blame rightly where it belonged on Gale. 

But as I looked back at Peeta, his strong arms flexing casually as Gale bucked and kicked out beneath him, his broad shoulders straining the fabric of his shirt, still wearing that same calm, slightly amused expression, I realized just what a smooth operator Peeta Mellark was. 

He looked up at the crowd who were speculating about how he’d subdued a bigger opponent so quickly, and someone volunteered the information that Peeta was a college wrestler. This caused a fresh wave of fresh chatter and more interest in Peeta. Some of the older guys, who followed town sports religiously, threw in little anecdotes about how the wrestling team had gone to State the year Peeta was captain. 

Peeta took it all in stride, keeping a good grip on Gale, waiting for him to tire out. When he was asked questions about the accident with his knee, he shrugged his shoulder’s in a kind of ‘what can you do?’ way, and said that he was lucky that he still had another one. That charmed onlookers in chuckling. 

This set off another round of expletives from Gale, who thought he was being laughed at. But I did not feel one bit sorry for him. As far as I was concerned, he had earned this humiliation fair and square. 

Peeta told him that he would not release him until he said he was sorry. 

Which Gale eventually did, through gritted teeth. 

Peeta got off him and moved to walk away, but Gale, sore-loser that he was, couldn’t resist kicking out at Peeta’s left leg. The one with the knee injury. 

This time Peeta did fall, and caught the edge of a chair on his way down. 

Gale moved swiftly to get on top of him, but I was officially done with the whole thing and just as Gale lifted his arm to punch Peeta in the face----

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read the rest on AO3.

[fandomtherapy44]

castiel x reader

Summary: This story is from the perspective of Y/n Winchester. The sister Of Dean and Sam. We will be starting from season four since sadly we did not get Misha Collins as Castiel throughout the whole series. It will start off as a friendship, but it will grow more as the series goes on. I will be skipping some episodes even though they are great episodes they do not push the story forward. I am so excited to get to write this since they are not many Castiel X reader stories out there. Okay without further due Love War & Grace enjoy the Story.

Paring: Castiel X Reader

Word count: 6,000

Warnings: Some language, Typical Supernatural violence, Spoilers for season four of Supernatural

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Chapter Three: In the Beginning

Y/n’s POV:

“ No, please don’t leave Me!” I wake up suddenly shooting up from my bed. These nightmares are getting more real every time I close my eyes. I go to get some water. I hear wings flapping and turn around to see Cas standing there. “Cas?” “Hello, Y/n what were you dreaming about?” He said in his usual gruff voice. “ Nevermind that. What are you doing here at four in the morning?” I said not wanting to answer that question “I am here to for your brother and you to stop something”

‘’Stop what?” I questioned as he came up close and gently put his fingers on my forehead.

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“Move it buddy and Mam you can't sleep here.” I heard this voice talking to me and noticed that I was not lying in bed anymore. “Okay... sleep... where?” Dean said sleepy, wait Dean. “Anywhere but here.” The voice said as he was walking away. “Y/n why are you sleeping on the sidewalk?” Dean asked me in disorientation. I opened my eyes and somehow I was sleeping in front of a bus bench. “I have no idea the last thing I remember is falling asleep in my own room after having a beer. Maybe there was more in the beer than I thought, well that's the last time I take anything compaltry from a motel. Why are you sleeping on a bus bench?” I asked, half confused, half asleep. “I have no idea either, let's see if we can find out” He said as he pulled out his phone.

“Perfect,” he said with sarcasm. “Let me try”. “ What the Hell?” I'm so annoyed that I almost threw my phone down. “Okay let's just recollect ourselves and try to think about what happened” Dean said trying to calm not just myself but him too. “Did Castiel visit you last night?’” “ He asked me. “Yes he did, he said you and I had to stop something. Cas you son of a …”. “ He said the same thing to me too. Also Cas? Since when did you get a nickname for him? " "Well I think it's easier than saying his full name every time.” “ right, guess that makes sense. Let’s go to that diner and get some coffee, to ask around and to put ourselves together.” Dean said gesturing up at a Blue Jay Diner.

As we are walking in I'm hoping that Cas has a good reason for us to be here. 

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As we walked in I noticed that the whole diner and everyone looked like they were stuck in the 70’s. “ Must be a convention in town” I commented. Dean and I sat next to this guy who looks in his early 20s. “Hey, where the hell are we?” Dean asked the man. “Jay Bird's Diner.” He answered honestly.  “Yes thank you for that heh he just meant what state and city?’’ I asked him with a kinder approach. “Lawrence, Kansas.” Lawrence why the hell Lawrence I thought. “Hey, you okay guys?” “ Yes, we just had a difficult night, thanks.” I answered him thinking that was nice of him to ask. ” Hey, uh, two coffees here, Reg.” “ Thank you” “ No Problem.” Dean pulled his phone out again trying to get single. ”Can you tell me where I can get reception on this thing?” Dean asked the man. “The USS Enterprise?” The man said looking weird at the phone. “Ha, that’s a good joke’’ I said laughing. “What joke?” he asked as Reg came over with some coffees. “Thanks... nice threads. You know Sonny and Cher broke up, right?” Dean said joking as usual.

“Sonny and Cher broke up?” The man said concerned. I looked around until my eyes landed on the newspaper. I elbow Dean to get his attention. “Ow Y/n what the He-” he stopped when he saw the same. “Nixon accepts resignation of top… and the date is Monday, April 30, 1973.” We do not even have time to process that because we learn who this stranger is next to us. “Hey, Winchester.” Dean and I both go to respond but instead the man does. “Son of a bitch. How you doing, Corporal?” “Hey, Mr. D.” “I heard you were back.” “Yeah, a little while now.” “Good to have you home, John, damn good.” John? Dad. “Well, say hello to your old man for me.” “You got it, Mr. D.” The man John was talking to walked away and he noticed us staring at him like we had seen a ghost. Well, I guess that’s true. "Do we know each other?” John had asked, looking at us both. “I guess not.” Dean said, answering for us. “Take it easy, guys” “Yeah you too” I said while looking into his eyes. I guess that is a pretty good reason for us to be sent here.

========================================================================

We are following well I guess our dad when I bump into Cas. “whoa” I said, almost falling but he caught me. “uh thank you” we stared into each other's eyes for a second.”you're welcome’’ he let go of me and when he did I felt colder. “What is this?” Dean asked Cas. “What does it look like?” “ Is this … real?” I asked hoping this was not a dream. “Very.” He answered looking at both of us. “Okay, so what? Angels got their hands on some DeLoreans? How did we get here?” He gestured to us. “Time is fluid, Dean, Y/n. It's not easy, but we can bend it on occasion.”Well bend it back or tell us what the hell we're doing here!” “I told you, you have to stop it.” Cas said in his monotone gruff voice and as usual not making sense. “Stop what? Huh? What, is there something nasty after our Dad?” We hear a car beep and turn back and Cas is gone. “Oh, come on! What, are you allergic to straight answers, you son of a bitch?!” Dean said angry which is fair but I trust him I have too.

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John is talking to the car salesman looking at an old van oh no we can’t let that happen. Dean and I walk over to the beautiful classic 1967 chevy Impala leaning against it. “You two following me?” I answered “No, no, we were just passing by. And we never got to thank you for that cup of coffee this morning. we were a little out of it.” “More than a little.” “Let us repay the favor.” Dean said, patting baby. “This is the one you want.” “Oh yeah, you – you know something about cars?” Dean and I nodded our heads looking at the engine. “Yeah... yeah, our Dad taught us everything we know.” I said, smiling a bit. “And this – this is a great car.” Dean said, opening the hood. “327 four barrel, 275 horses. A little TLC and this thing is cherry.” “You know man, you're right.” John said, sounding excited. “Then what are you buying that thing for?” Dean said, nodding at the van. “Dean, John can buy any car he wants and I'm sure it’s for a good reason.”

She’s right. I kinda promised someone I would. "Over a '67 Chevy? I mean, come on, this is the car of a lifetime. Trust me, this thing's still gonna be badass when it's 40.” John looks like he’s grateful. "John Winchester. Thanks.” John said, holding out his hand for us to shake. We shake his hand. “Dean Van Halen, this is my sister Y/n – and thank you.” we were in pretty rough shape this morning, huh?” “No kidding.” I've been hung over before but, hey, I was, I was getting chills in that diner. You didn't feel any of those cold spots, did you?” Ah, I know what Dean is  doing. I joined in. “I swore I smelled something weird too, you know? Like... like rotten eggs. You didn't happen to smell any sulfur by chance?” “No to both.” He answered, getting annoyed. “No... There been any cattle mutilations in town recently?” Okay that's pushing it. “Okay, mister, Mam! Stop it.”.”Yeah, if only we knew what to stop. Listen, uh – watch out for yourself okay?” I said to him. "Yeah, sure.” When we were walking away we heard John confirming the sale for the impala. 

========================================================================

We stole a car and now are following dad in the impala. He stops in front of a house and a young beautiful blonde woman comes out to hug him. Dean and I both say at the same time. “Mom?”

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We are now watching them have a date in a little booth with milkshakes. “I can't believe this, she looks so beautiful’’ I said wanting to cry because I never got to know mom like Sam and Dean did. “Yeah she is’’. Then we hear a voice behind us. “Why are you following us?” It was mom. We turn around and she attacks us. “Are you crazy?” She is kicking our asses. But Dean grabs her behind her arms and holds her to the wall.”Okay, how about we talk about this, huh?” “Dean! let her go look at her wrist’’ I point out at the charm bracelet. I walk up to her and asked “Are you a hunter?” 

========================================================================

My parents are saying goodbye and they look so in love. Mary walks up to us. “Dean and y/n right? I'm not sure you should come in.” Mary said with hestion. “You can trust us. I mean, come on, we're all hunters, right? I mean, we're – we're practically family.” Dean said with a convincing tone. “Yeah, thing is, my Dad, he's a little, um…” Wait, grandpa is still alive? I thought. “Dean and I would love to meet him. We've heard so many great stories about him.” “You've guys heard of him?” She asked. “Well clearly not enough.” I said with a smile trying to contain myself that I'm actually meeting my family.

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“So, you're a hunters? Well, tell me something, mister and miss hunter, you kill vampires with wooden stakes or silver?” Grandpa asked, I did not know he was such a hardass. “Neither, you cut their heads off.” I answered proudly. ”So, did we pass your test?” Dean asked with hope. “Yep. Now get out of my house” Grandpa said yep definitely a hardass. “Dad!” Mary said, she can't believe her father right now. “I don't trust other hunters, Dean, Y/n don't want their help, don't want them around my family.” “Knock it off, Samuel.” Grandma said from the other room, setting the table and putting grandpa in his place. “They are hunters.” “Who passed your little pop quiz, and now I am inviting them to dinner. Are you hungry?” She asked us. “That sounds great, thank you.” I said I was trying to be on my best behavior. “Good. I'm Deanna, you've met my husband Samuel, and Mary's younger sister Y/n sadly passed away when she was younger. now wash up.” I was named after her sister. I didn't even know mom had a sister. I looked at Mary.”Samuel and Deanna and Y/N ?” I asked as she nodded her head at me. I wonder what her sister was like.

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 “So Dean, Y/n this your first time here.” “Well, it's been a while. Things sure have changed... we think.” Dean answered. “You two working a job?” Samuel asked. “Yeah, maybe.” Dean!” I said surprised. “I'm sorry about my brother, he forgets his manners sometimes.” I said while glaring at him. “ That's okay, it's good to know that he's guarded like that.” “My sister is right, I should've responded like that, it's just I don't trust other hunters either, Samuel.” Dean apouligzed which surprised me. “Hey, um, so why were you following me and John?” Mary asked us. “Mmm, we thought something was after your, um, boyfriend, but um, we don't think that anymore.” I answered. “John Winchester mixing it up with spirits, can you imagine?” Deanna said while Samuel looked annoyed at the mere mention of John’s name. “I saw that.” Mary told her dad not letting him get away with it. “What?” Samuel answered incently. “That sour lemon look.” “Now hold on, John's a really, really nice... naive civilian.” So Grandpa hated dad, good to know. “So what? You'd rather me be with a guy like this?” Mary said while nodding at Dean. “Oh god no no you would not want to be with him.’’ I answered for him. “Yes she's right I think, you don't want to be with a guy like me.” Dean said a little offended. “Mary, of course not, it's just that I –” Samuel said trying to smooth this over. “That's enough, both of you, we have company.” Deanna had told them. “So what about you, Samuel, you, uh, working a job?” Dean asked curiously. 

“Might be.” damn hunters do not like sharing. “He's working a job on the Whitshire Farm.” Mary answered being a little petty. Maybe that's where I get it. “Whitshire, why does that name sound familiar to me?” Dean said and he's right we've heard that name before. “Well, it's been all over the papers. Tom Whitshire. Got tangled up in a combine a few towns over.” “ Those things do happen sometimes” I said. “So why was he on it in the first place when his crops are all dead?” “ Demon omens” I said, confirming it. “That's what I gotta find out.” “What about the rest of the town? Well, did you find anything on the web? ...Of information that you have assembled.” Nice save dean I thought with sarcasm. “Electrical storms maybe. The weather service graphs should be here on Friday.” Grandma told us. Sounds like demons to me. “By mail?” Dean asked. “Of course by mail Dean sorry were just used to getting things by ourselves” They look a little weird at us. I bring Dean over to the side. “Did you forget that we are in the 70s or did you hit your head. so please try to stop the 2000's references, Marty mcfly please?” “ Yes I will, sorry it's just hard.” “ Yeah I know I keep On pulling out my phone but we got this okay” “yeah okay” “ Great break.” “You know, it sounds to me like we might be hunting the same thing. You know if we go in there in numbers, we could take care of this real quick.” Dean said, referring to us. “What part of “we work alone” do you not understand, son?” Samuel said and I don't blame him but come on we're trying to figure out a back to the future mystery here throw us a bone will ya.

========================================================================

Dean and I go up to the Whitshire house. “This is stupid why did I have to be a nun?” I asked, pulling on my head piece a little. “Because it makes sense and it helps me look like a real priest, it's also a little funny.” Dean said, trying to hold back his laugh. I almost slap him but Mrs.Whitshire opens the door just in time.

We are walking to the door after her interview. When someone knocks on the door. We open it to see Samuel standing there in the same get up as Dean. “Father, sister, I see you beat me here.” “The Lord is funny that way. Beth Whitshire, this is our associate, our senior, senior priest, Father Chaney.” We walk next to Grandpa. “Please accept our deepest condolences on behalf of the county diocese.” Grandpa said handing her a fruit cake yeah nothing says I'm sorry like a cake no one eats. “Mrs. Whitshire was just telling us all about Tom, and how normal and ordinary things were the day before his death.” I see, so you didn't notice anything unusual, ma’am?” Samuel asked. “You mean like my husband’s guts fertilizing the back 40?” “Awkward” I whisper under my breath. Samuel is having a hard time to answer so Dean and I walk over to Mary and the victim’s son.  

“Charlie, would you like to tell the Father and Sister here what you just told me?” Mary said to us. “Dad drank sometimes. Sometimes he got rough with Mom.” “And that's when the stranger came?” “I just thought he was some Bible thumper, like you all. He showed up about a week ago.” Interesting I thought. “Saying what?” Dean asked. “Did I want the beatings to stop? I just thought he was crazy, I didn't think – and the next thing I know, Dad's dead. Am I going to jail?” poor kid. “You didn't do this, Charlie.” I told making sure that he knew. “Did the stranger want something in return?” Dean asked him. “He didn't want anything.” Huh, not likely. “Come on, Chuck, he wasn't just handing out freebies now, was he?” Dean said being not wrong. “He did say something about comin' a callin' ten years from now. Maybe he'd want something then.” Oh no, all this kid wanted was peace. “Something like what?” I asked terrified for his answer.”I don't know, okay? Look, I told you he was nuts.” Mary pulls Dean and I to the side. “What do you think?” “I think this kid has no idea that he just shook hands with the devil.” I said looking at Charlie Sadly. “Charlie, do you remember what this stranger looked like?” I tried to get to the bottom of this. “Yeah, he was about 5 '10, white, normal looking really.” “ anything out of the ordinary with his appearance.” “There was one thing.” “What was it.” “It's just, the light hit his eyes in a weird way and... for a moment I coulda sworn –” “Red or black maybe.” I answered back.”No, they were yellow. Pale yellow.” What the hell, yellow eyes? What is going on?

====================================================================================

Dean slams a map down and I look at it trying to figure this crazy stuff out as well. “What do you say we just slow down and talk this thing through.” Grandpa tried to calm us down. “There's nothing to talk about.” Dean answered. “Except you're saying it's a demon, and none of us has ever heard of a demon with yellow eyes.” “ We have, it killed our family without thinking twice.” I answered while staring at Grandpa's eyes.”Just calm down” “You don't get it, do you? You are in danger, we are all in danger. In fact, you need to get yourself someplace safe.” I said trying to get my family safe.”Not until we know what we're dealing with here.” could he not be a stubborn hardass for 10 minutes.”Sam's right, Y/n, it could be a demon, it could be a shapeshifter, it could be any number of things.”Deanna said trying to stand by her husband.“We know what this thing is, we lived it.” I said getting mad.”And we're gonna kill it, that's all the talking I need to do.” Dean said with this intensity. “You're gonna kill a demon? How?” Samuel questioned. “There's a hunter named Daniel Elkins. He lives in Colorado, he has Colt's gun. The Colt.” “Yeah, I heard about the Colt, used to tell it to Mary and y/n as a bedtime story.” “Well we know it’s real for sure.” I said, trying to get it in their heads. “Alright, say that it is. You got some kind of crystal ball telling you where this demon's gonna be?” Samuel said doubtful still. 

“Wait, I think we do.“ I said, grabbing our dads journal out. “What's this?” “ It's a list.” Dean said, catching on. “Of what?” “Our Dad wrote down anyone he thought ever came in contact with the Yellow Eyed Demon: who, where and when.” “why?” Samuel questioned. It is a little crazy. “‘Cause the more he could learn about the son of a bitch, the more he could figure out why it killed our Mom.” I said, still staring down at it. “Look, Whitshire Farm. I told you that name sounded familiar.” Dad really did everything to find this demon. “Uh... our Dad could see the future. Look at this, it says he's gonna hit here tomorrow night.” Dean said looking at me shrugging hoping that excuse was good. “Liddy Walsh?” Samuel questioned. “Haleyville, that's close.” Dean said. “I mean, yeah, it's about three miles, but…” Samuel said while looking at his wife exchanging looks of are these people okay which we get a lot. “ I know you think we're crazy and I don't blame you. I mean If someone told me the same thing, if I didn't know what I did I would think the same but were telling the truth.” I said hoping my small speech might have convinced them. “You seem like really nice kids, Dean,y/n but yeah, you're crazy.” “ We might be but we are going to kill the demon that destroyed our lives” I said as I walked out of the room with Dean.

========================================================================

I walked to Mary’s room breathing in because this might be the last time I see my mom alive. I knock on the open door. “Hey Mary my brother and I are leaving, I just wanted to thank you before I left”  “ Thank me for what I mean I almost gave your brother a concussion.” “ exactly I think sometimes he needs one. Huh Uh actually I wanted to thank you for trying to convince your dad for us to help.” “ Yeah no problem. I think we need more help but ever since Y/n's death I don't think he can trust anyone else” Mary responded and I asked something that has been nagging me this whole time. “If you don’t mind me asking how Y/n pass and of course you don't have to answer.”  “No its okay it happened two years ago my dad and his hunting partner and y/n were on a case they were chasing a werewolf my dad’s partner thought they had caught the right one but instead the real one got my sisters scent and she was smiling one moment and the next she was lying on the ground in her own guts.” Mary said, crying. I go to hug her.

“I'm sorry that happened. I know what it feels like to lose someone to this stuff that we chase.”  “Thanks Y/n you seem like a good friend. "" Thank you, I try, and speaking of good friends. That John kid seems pretty great. What’s he like.” “I don't know. He's sweet, kind. Even after the war, after everything, he still believes in happily ever after, you know? He's everything a hunter isn't. No offense.” I chuckle at that “ No offense taken” “So you have anyone special in your life” Mary asked. It was funny. I never thought I would be talking about a special someone with my mom.

”Me no I don't think love is in the cards for me.” “ Well you're a great person, someone will see that.” “ Thanks Mary.” “ of course. Can I tell you something” Mary asked with excitement. I nod.”He's gonna ask me to marry him. Tomorrow, I think!” “ That's great Mary” “Oh, Dad's gonna explode, but I don't care. I'll run away if I have to, I just… I love John, and…” “and what” I questioned. “I wanna get out. This job, this life, I hate it. I want a family, I wanna be safe. You know the worst thing I can think of? The very worst thing? Is for my children to be raised into this like I was. No, I won't let it happen. If what happened to Y/n happened to my kids I couldn't bear it.” I want to cry and tell my mom that everything is going to be okay but I can't so instead I lie.” I'm sure that won't happen. I mean who would do that. I truly wish all your happiness Mary.” I grab her and hug her tight and let go. “Thank you Mary for everything.” I said as I almost ran out of the room passing my brother.

========================================================================

I ran out of the house breathing heavily trying to control it. I hear a flap of wings and turn around to see him.” Cas? I didn't pray.” “I know I just felt you in distress.” “ So you came to help me, all you do is just stand there standing not doing anything.” I said while looking down and when I looked up he was sad. “I'm sorry that was mean you do help me more than you realize, it's just I'm trying to process this. And why can’t Sam be here? He has to be looking for us.” Sam's not looking for you.” What does that mean? “So if we stop this demon does it mean that my siblings and I get a normal life.” “You realize, if you do alter the future, your father, you, Sam, Dean – you'll never become hunters. And all those people you saved, they'll die.” “Of course I realize it but I don't care I'm still going to fight” “I really am sorry Y/n no one deserves this especially you three.” I turn around to see him gone. 

========================================================================

Dean and I get into the house to get the colt and I'm at the safe to crack it while Dean stays in the car ready to drive away. “Hold it right there, friend. Drop the gun, be on your way.” It's Daniel, the current owner of the colt. I pretend to put it down but instead I point at him ready to shoot. “ I'm sorry Daniel but I need this to save my family.” “ Who the hell are you?” “ I'm a hunter just like you.” “Thief's more like it.” “ I will return it I just need it for a couple of days.” “Not happening, miss.” “Look, I have a chance to save my family’s lives. My family. But I need this gun to do it. So if you want to stop me? Kill me.” Daniel lowers his so I lower mine. “There's some hunters in Lawrence, the Campbells.” “Never heard of them.” “ That’s where the gun will be I promise. Thank you” I take the Colt and leave.

========================================================================

We burst into the Walsh house to see the yellow eyed demon holding Mary against him using her as a shield. “ Mary! Let her go, you son of a bitch.” I yelled at it. “Where'd you get that gun?” He said looking at the colt I cock it and give Mary the signal to break away. As she does that the Yellow eyed demon smoked out of the poor bastard he was possessing. “Damn” Dean said, annoyed. I exit the house feeling uneasy. “Mary, what else did he say to you?” Dean asked. “I told you, just that he liked me.” Oh no is this when it happened how it knows her. “What did he mean by that?” Mary asked, a little scared. Samuel comes up to join us before we can answer. “Are you okay?” He asked Mary. “No, Dad, I'm pretty far from okay. Can we go?” She said walking away to the truck. “Nice job in there.” Samuel said to me which was weird. “I missed the shot.” I answered. “Take the compliment I'm saying that I was wrong about you guys.” He said, looking at us both. “We need to talk alone.” Dean said and he was right but what is wrong with Samuel. 

====================================================================================

“We have to kill this thing now, or Mary dies.” Dean said while we both were sitting.”What? How do you know that?” Samuel questioned. “We just do, okay?” I said pulling out Dads journal. “When?” “I don't know, maybe today, probably years from now, but it's happening, trust us.” “So what, are you guys some kind of psychics now too?” “ No, just listen to us.” He sits down too. “Now, this is gonna sound a little... actually it's gonna sound massively, massively crazy.”Dean said. What is he doing? ’’Mary is our mother.” Oh okay so we're doing this. “I am your grandson, she is your granddaughter and I know what the hell I'm talking about.” “You wanna run that by me again, son?” Samuel questioned this whole thing again. “ My real name is Dean Winchester. I was born January 24th, 1979. My parents are Mary and John Winchester.” I sigh.”My name is Y/n Winchester born November 2, 1984 to Mary and John WInchester. “I don't have to listen to this.” Samuel does not believe this. 

“Mary gets killed by a yellow eyed demon in 1984, and I think that this – what happened tonight – I think this is the moment that he caught her scent. Now, if we don't catch this thing now, and kill it, and it gets away? Then Mary dies. So I am asking you, please.” Dean is pleading with him at this point.”How did we know about the Colt? Huh? How did I know about the Yellow Eyed Demon? Or where it would be? were not making this up, Samuel.” I said, trying to get him on our side. “Every bone in my body is aching to put you six feet under, but there's something about you – I can't shake it. Now, I may be crazier than you guys but I believe you.” Yes but why was that too easy? ”I mean, how do we find this bastard?” “ with this the list” I said pointing at the page. “And with the Colt?” “Yes” “Here, let me see it.” Samuel said grabbing for it I held it back. “Sorry, we don't let anybody hold it.” “I'm your grandfather.” “ It's not you” I said, trying to be civil. “Sure it is, especially when it's me you're trying to kill.” Samurl said as his eyes went yellow and slammed Dean and I against the wall I knew there was something wrong.

====================================================================================

“Future kids, huh?” the YED walked over to Dean. I grunted trying to get up. “I only know one thing that's got the juice to swing something like that. You must have friends in high places. So, I kill your Mommy? That's why you came all this way? To see little old me?” Dean’s trying to get up too. “Oh, I came here to kill you.” Dean said, staring at his eyes. “Hey, wait a minute, if that slut Mary's your Mommy, are you... are you one of my psychic kids?” He leans in to sniff Dean. “No, not you. Maybe you.” He said walking over to me. “Get away from her you bastard!” Dean yelled. YED walks up to me and sniffs me.  "No you're not, must be another brother but you smell delicious almost as much as your mommy. Hey you planning to have kids so I can make more of my children. “ “Go back to hell” I spit in his face. “That's terrific, means it all worked out. After all, it's why I'm here.” “So that's what this is about, these deals you're making. You don't want these people's souls.” Dean yelled from across the room and the YED walked over to him. “No, I just want their children. I'm here to choose the perfect parents, like your Mommy.” “Why her? Why any of them?” “Because they're strong.” Deanna is starting to come around the corner to try to get to the colt. “They're pure, and they eat their Wheaties. My own little master race – they're ideal breeders.” “You're disgusting” I said to him. 

“ No sweetheart, I'm a dealer, there's a difference.” “Oh, get your mind out of the gutter. No one’s breeding with me. Though, Mary? Man, I'd like to make an exception. So far, she's my favorite.” “ So why make the deals?” Dean questioned trying to distract him. “I need permission. I need to be invited, into their houses, I know, I know, the – the red tape'll drive you nuts, but in ten short years, it'll all be worth it. ‘Cause you know what I'm gonna do to your sibling? I'm gonna stand over their crib and I'm gonna bleed into their mouth. Demon blood is better than Ovaltine, vitamins, minerals – it makes you big and strong.” “For what? So they can lead your discount demon army? Is that your big plan?” “Please, my end game's a hell of a lot bigger than that kid.” “End game? What end game?” “Like I'm gonna tell you, or those angels sitting on your shoulder. No, I'm gonna cover my tracks good.” “ You can cover whatever the hell you want, but I'm still gonna kill you.” “Right. Now that, I'd like to see.” “Maybe not today, but you look into my eyes, you son of a bitch, ‘cause I'm the one that kills you.” “So, you're gonna save everybody, is that right? Is that it? Well, I'll tell you one person that you're not gonna save. You're Grandpappy.” He takes out a knife and stabs himself. “NO!” Dean and I both screamed out. “NO!” Deanna screamed out too and the YED sent her flying to the floor she was crawling to the knife and he snapped her neck like a pretzel.  We’re released from the hold and I go for the colt to shoot but he's gone then I realize Mary’s not here. “Mary... Mary!” Dean and I ran out to the car. 

========================================================================

The car stops and Dean and I arrive in time to see Mary and YED kissing. “NO!” we both yell out then I see Cas and we get flown away.

========================================================================

I gasp awake and breath heavily and see Cas standing there. “Cas we couldn't stop it. She still made the deal. She still died in the nursery, didn't she?” I stare into his eyes. “ Don't blame yourself Y/n you couldn't have stopped it.” “ What do you mean?” “Destiny can't be changed, Y/n All roads lead to the same destination.” “ Screw destiny Cas, I make my own future and why did you even send us back then?’’ “For the truth. Now you know everything we do.” “ What the hell are you talking about?” Cas looks around and I realize. “Where is Sam?” “We know what Azazel did to your brother. What we don't know is why – what his endgame is. He went to great lengths to cover that up.” It's starting to make sense. “Where's Sam Cas?” “425 Waterman.” I start to get my things together and to get Dean. “You brother is headed down a dangerous road, Y/n, and we're not sure where it leads. So stop it. Or we will.” I'm about to leave when he says something “I'm glad you're okay.” “ Thank you Cas for everything.”

========================================================================

Dean and I walk into the location and see something crazy.”So... Anything you wanna tell us, Sam?” Sam looked surprised that we were here.”Guys, hold on, okay? Just let me-""You gonna say, "let me explain"? You're gonna explain this? How about this? Why don't you start with who she is, and what the hell is she doing here?” I said angry. The girl looks at me.” Hi Y/n good to see you again” I am shocked. “Ruby?” She smiles.” Is that Ruby?” Dean asked, angry too. He does not respond and so Dean throws Ruby against the wall holding the demon against her. They tussle and she pins him. “Ruby! Stop it!” She's holding him in a chokehold.

So I throw her off and flip her to the ground. “Don't you ever touch my brother again!” She shakes her head and I let go. “Ruby, he's hurt.” Sam nodded to the injured man that was possessed. She and him limp out. “Did you have to do that?” Sam asked me, annoyed. “Oh I'm sorry Sam but did you forget she's a DEMON!” I said basically yelling. He walks away leaving me to think what happened in the four months that we weren't together.

================================================

That's it hoped you liked it! Next chapter we meet Uriel let's just say him and Y/n won't be besties.

Next

[unclewaynemunson]

Hmm. So you picture Nancy staring at Robin in her Scoops outfit hmm?

Obvious prompt is Obvious then. Nancy and Robin go to the back room for some inappropriate use of ice cream toppings. ;)

Oooohh i like this one a lot, thank you for sending it in!! I do have to admit I'm not very comfortable writing anything too explicit on here so I kiiinda cheated a little bit, but I hope you still like it anyway!

~

'Seriously, again?' Robin says when the doorbell chimes and she turns around to see Eddie Munson stroll into the ice cream parlor. 'No one can need that much ice cream, Munson.'

'Two scoops of banana, please, Buckley,' is the only thing he says in reply.

'I know why you're here,' Robin says in a low voice, leaning over the counter to make sure he can still hear her. 'You can only sit snuggled up in a booth sharing banana splits with Nancy Wheeler so many times before the whole town catches up to what's going on between the two of you. I have to admit, I did not expect you to be into girls like Nancy Wheeler, but congrats, I guess.' She tries her best not to sound too jealous about it; they make a cute couple. It doesn't matter that Robin's heart basically leaps out of its chest every time Nancy shows up in the store. It doesn't matter that Robin thinks about her every night before she falls asleep. Right?

But to her surprise, Eddie doesn't get flustered one bit at her comment. Instead, he bursts out in loud laughter, throwing his head back and slapping his hand onto the counter.

'What's so funny?'

'You are embarrassingly wrong, Buckley. Wheeler's not here for me,' he says, with a strangely intense glance at her.

Robin gasps. 'She's still into Steve?' she asks. She doesn't know why that surprises her; it wouldn't be the first time Steve effortlessly captures the attention of the girl Robin is pining for, anyway.

But Eddie groans, then dramatically ducks down to bury his head in his arms on the counter.

'Jesus, Robin, can you get any more dense? You seriously haven't noticed the heart eyes she's making at you all the time?'

Robin stares at him, lost for words for a good few seconds – something that doesn't happen often. 'At... me?'

'Yeah, you idiot. I thought you knew and were just waiting for the right moment to make your move. I've seen the way you look at her, you're not exactly subtle about it. Nancy and me, we bonded over our shared love for Scoops Ahoy employees in weird sailor outfits that accentuate thighs unfairly well and losing our gay little minds over that.'

Robin squints at him. This is too much new information at once; she feels like her head is going to explode. 'Are you saying you're into Steve?'

Eddie holds her gaze for a couple of seconds, but doesn't say anything.

'You know what,' he eventually breaks the silence, 'Keep your banana ice cream. Nancy should be here any moment, I'll just... give you girls some privacy.' He winks and starts walking backwards to the door. He's probably going for smooth, but blindly bumps into one too many tables to succeed at that. He waves at her from the doorway, then disappears into the crowds of people walking around the mall.

🍨

Only a few minutes later, Nancy shows up, looking pretty as ever, with her hair perfectly styled and a pastel pink dress that highlights her waist in a truly unfair way and shows more skin of her legs than Robin can handle.

'Can I have some strawberry, please?' she politely asks Robin.

Robin trusts Eddie: she knows he would never play a cruel prank with her feelings. So now she just has to be brave.

She takes a deep breath, then leans over the counter like she did with Eddie before. But this time, she also grazes her hand over Nancy's arm. Her skin feels warm and smooth under her fingertips

'A little birdie told me you're not actually here for ice cream, Nance,' she says in a soft voice.

Nancy's cheeks immediately turn an adorable shade of red.

'I –'

'Don't worry,' Robin says with a wink, her heart losing all its sense of rhythm completely, but trying not to let her nervousness show. 'We got some special flavors in the back. You wanna try them out?'

Before Nancy can say anything, Robin opens the window behind her.

'Steve!' she yells. 'Your turn to scoop. I need a break.'

He frowns as she guides Nancy with her to the back, but doesn't say anything and takes his place behind the counter.

'Special flavors, huh?' Nancy asks her. A shy smile is playing around her lips, as if she knows exactly what Robin is up to.

'Yeah,' Robin whispers. She hardly recognizes herself. When did she get this brave? Was there something in the chocolate chip ice cream she ate before her shift started? 'Wanna taste?'

Nancy leans into her; Robin feels how her hands find their way to Robin's waist, gently tugging her closer.

Nancy's lips are soft and they taste like the strawberry ice cream she hasn't even eaten yet. Robin can't help the surprised sound that escapes from her mouth, causing Nancy to pull her even closer, hungrily licking into her mouth. Robin is swaying on her feet, but Nancy pulls back before they can lose themselves into their kiss completely.

'Tastes good,' she whispers against the skin of Robin's throat. 'I think I tasted some chocolate chip. But I might have to check, just to make sure.'

Robin immediately pulls her in for another kiss; Nancy's right hand wanders over the edge of Robin's sailor shirt, just a gentle teasing of fingers over skin, driving Robin completely crazy already.

'Nance,' she whispers into Nancy's mouth, not entirely wanting to let go, but still knowing that there's a whole legion of customers just on the other side of the window.

'Hm?'

'It's, like, half an hour before closing time. How about I get you that strawberry ice cream and you wait till I'm done? We can hang out back here, maybe try out some of the toppings...' She pauses, letting a suggestive silence fill the air between them.

Nancy nods eagerly. She has a dazed look in her eyes that Robin has never seen there before and that's kind of making her lose her mind.

'I'd like that,' she says.

'Good.' Robin pulls her in for a final kiss, with the promise of what will happen after her shift already tasting sweet on her lips.

[istorkyou]

The Price Of Love (Modern!Ivar AU)

A Modern!Ivar x F Reader

Warnings - See individual chapters. STRICTLY 18+

Synopsis - Money isn’t everything.

Word Count - 1340

Note - This is the second fic I ever wrote and I’m not sure why I never posted it. I think I started writing The Arrangement not long after and kind of fell out of love with this one. Still, it’s been festering in my completed docs for well over a year so I figure I might as well post it 😬 It’s fluffy, and maybe a little cheesy (and by a little I mean a lot!) so if that’s your bag I hope you enjoy it!

Moodboard - The beautiful moodboard is made the magical, amazing @serasvictoria. Thank you so much xxxx

This was beta read by my aussie wife who has left Tumblr. All love, all the time Lou x

Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @momowhoo​​ @zuxiezendler​​ @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog​ @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer​ @pieces-by-me​ @heavenly1927​​ @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint​​ @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy​ @petite-hime​​ @serasvictoria​​ @mimiiinspace​​ @itsmysticalmystery​​ @lonewolf471​​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​​ @draculasbride-blog​​ @love-all-things-writing​​ @southernbe​​ @redhead7799​​ @kaybee87​​ @ivarlover​​ @ivarhoegh​​ @idgafiamallthefandoms​​ @darkphoenix5037​​ @profoundtyrantharmony​​ @snarling-through-our-smiles​​ @crazyunsexycool​​ @xceafh​​ @bragisrunes​​@noway4u @batmandallyboy​​ @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73​​​​ @meandmycherrytree

Masterpost

CHAPTER 12

The next few weeks can only be described as surreal. You go about your normal life but now some people recognise you, staring and pointing and taking pictures of you. It’s like being trapped in a weird nightmare.

Your shop is way busier than usual, you suppose you have to look on the bright side of this shit show.

There are countless articles written about you, Sadie tells you that most of them are complimentary, although some less so. She tells you the comment section and social media posts are really awful. You just steer clear of it all, the good and the bad.

Ivar is having a hard time at work because of it all. He tells you his mother isn’t pleased with him at all. He keeps most of the details to himself but he is definitely more stressed than usual.

You spend every spare seconds with each other, at your place. It doesn’t appear that your place is known to the media yet so it becomes your safe haven.

You find relief in each other. Every chance you get you are making each other come to try and release some of the tension. You try to avoid going out together in public, but having to hide away is not healthy for your new relationship. You aren’t doing the normal things new couples do, dating, getting to know each other outside the bedroom.

On a lazy Sunday afternoon you're both fed up with being cooped up inside.

“Let’s go out, Ivar. I can’t be in these four walls anymore. Let’s go out and get some lunch, go for a walk, let’s just go anywhere, I’m going crazy in here!” Your hands fly up in exasperation.

A massive smile cracks out on Ivar's face, “that’s my girl! Screw them baby, let’s just live our lives!”

You get ready and head out for a walk into town, you end up finding a street market and shop for things for dinner. It's so wonderfully cliched and normal; walking hand in hand, his arms around you, his face buried in your hair breathing you in. You barely notice if people are looking at you or not.

You head into your favourite pizza place for lunch and hear a massive roar of clapping and whooping when you walk in. You look over in the direction it’s coming from and it’s Iris, Sadie and a bunch of your other friends.

“Oh crap, that’s all my friends. I promise I didn’t know they were here!” You turn to Ivar and say, he just laughs at you.

“Shall we join them?” He asks. You smile and nod at him, he seems quite relaxed about it.

You head to the table and Iris stands up, walks straight past you and pulls Ivar in for a crushing hug.

“Don’t worry about me, Iris. Jesus!” You laugh. Sadie heads over and gives you a hug.

“So nice to see you, stranger! I had forgotten what you look like, it’s been weeks,” Sadie says to you, a slight scold in her tone.

“I know, I’m sorry, it’s been a very weird few weeks. All of the attention has been making me super uncomfortable,” you admit to her quietly. You look over to Iris who is still hugging Ivar.

“Iris, do you want to put him down?” you joke.

“Not really hun, he’s very huggable,” she pokes her tongue out at you and turns back to him. “You really are very good looking aren’t you?” He laughs, looking at you and a blush covers his cheeks.

“Come and sit down, we've been looking forward to meeting you!” Sadie tells him.

You spend the rest of the afternoon sitting in the restaurant with your friends, eating and drinking. You can tell by the way they react to Ivar that he has won them over, he is relaxed in their presence and hilariously funny. A massive feeling of pride swells in your chest as you watch him charm everyone.

“I must say, Ivar. You don’t seem anything like your reputation.” Sadie giggles at him. He turns towards her with the deepest scowl on his face you have ever seen, his face is tipped down and he is staring at her menacingly through his eyebrows. She lets out a terrified squeal and Ivars face breaks into laughter.

“Jesus, there he is,” Sadie exclaims.

“I’ve been a lot happier recently so the asshole side of me hasn’t come out for a while,” he tells Sadie then looks at you and smiles. You can almost hear Sadie swoon. You actually hear Iris pretend to puke then laugh. You smile back at him, blushing.

When it’s time to leave, Ivar warmly hugs everyone. “Iris, I will pass on your number to Hvitserk” and winks at her. You look at her quizzically.

“Oh, you think you're the only one that can pull a Lothbrok?” she retorts, leaving the table in fits of laughter.

It’s dark when you leave, not a photographer in sight.

“We needed that, didn’t we, Y/N?” He asks you.

“We did,” you give him a big kiss, “I’m missing your dick though, this is the longest we’ve been together without you being inside me. Let’s go home.”

—————-

“So, this annual ball thingy at his company is coming up and he’s been practically on his knees begging me to go for the last two weeks,” Sadie and Iris look at you curiously.

“Yeah, so what’s the issue?” Iris asks.

“There’s a red fucking carpet, that’s the issue. Apparently loads of famous people go every year,” you say with a worried look on your face. Iris squeals in excitement.

“No Iris, it’s not a good thing. It’s terrifying. What if I trip over, what if I have a nip slip, what if I fuck up in some way and embarrass him, and myself?!” You wave your hands around trying to get your point across.

“Yeah that would be bad,” Iris says seriously, catches the look of shock on your face and bursts out laughing. “Of course you won’t do any of those things! Have you told him you will go? You have to go with him. I will if you won’t,” she winks at you.

“Just do it, Y/N you will be fine,” Sadie says in a soft, encouraging voice.

“I haven’t said yes or no yet, but I have been on the lookout for a dress and I’ve found this..” You take out your phone and show them a picture of a long gown, clinging to the curves of the model beautifully.

“It’s nice, but it’s quite simple,” says Iris with a wrinkle in her nose, you give her a smirk and narrow your eyes the swipe to the next picture.

“YES!!!” they both shout at once! You are showing them the back of the dress, or lack thereof. It’s almost backless, the fabric starting again dangerously close to the model's ass. You nod and smirk at their reaction.

“It's amazing, right?!” You ask them.

“Oh. Oh!! Do you know what would make it more amazing?! I’m going to make you a necklace, a long string of zirconias that you can wear running down your back. Let me, let me!” Sadie pleads.

“Go on, let her, Ivar can use it like a lead in the bedroom after,” Iris says playfully, winking at Sadie. You burst out laughing.

“Not really the intended use for one of my creations but do with it what you will,” Sadie says, trying to be prim and proper but with a devilish glint in her eye.

“Sadie, thanks so much, I would really love that, you know I love all your jewellery.” You blow a kiss at her.

“I’ll get the dress then, I will let him know I am going to go,” you squeal in excitement.

You send him a quick message.

I will go with you to the ball ❤️

His reply is instant.

Good girl 😉

His response has you chuckling. “He’s happy,” you tell the girls.

Chapter 13

[custardcove]

First Memories

Chapter Three - Return to Sender

The next morning, there was a letter on Pansy’s doormat.

Alice picked it up to get a better look at the loopy, eloquent handwriting. It was addressed to her. She opened it at once, breaking the wax seal.

Dear Miss Webbe,

It is with careful consideration that I have chosen to respond to your request.

I am impressed that someone who rolled into town with nothing to their name would be bold enough to make such an enquiry.

Even with this considered, I am not accepting visitors at this time, nor will I be in the foreseeable future. I apologise for any inconvenience this may have caused. I’m sure you were eager to meet again.

Sincerely, with my condolences,

Queenie Von Drachen

So much for being alert. Alice showed the letter to Pansy over breakfast.

“Huh, now that’s a problem. I’m willin’ to bet she knows exactly why you want to see her.” She pauses to offer Primrose a spoonful of mush, who eats it without issue. “’Meet again’, though? Do you remember how you met the first time?”

“Not at all. But I know we must have.” Alice stirs her spoon around the bowl of o-shaped cereal in front of her. “How am I doing to ask her about my necklace now?”

“Catch her.”

“Sorry?”

“Catch her outside the villa. She doesn’t stay in there all day every day, she’d go stir-crazy.”

“Well, okay… but if I see her, what am I going to say?”

As Pansy inhales to answer, there’s a knock at the door. “Could you get that, Alice?”

“Ok.” Alice gets up and walks out to unlatch the door. It’s Taylor.

“Hey, how’s it going? Can I come in?”

Without replying, Alice steps to one side. She nods at him.

“Thanks.” Taylor walks through, already seeming to know where Pansy is. “Hi, came to see how things were going. Don’t have to work until three.”

“Heya—things? Like with Custard here?”

“Haha, I like that—but pretty much. Since, you know, she just showed up out of the blue an’ all.” He slaps his knees as he joins the table.

Alice sat back down, hoping it would remind them she was in the room. “We were just talking about the letter Queenie sent.”

Taylor’s eyes widened. “Queenie wrote to you? Can I see?”

“It was a reply,” Alice explained, sliding her letter over. “We think she has something that belongs to me. I’ve been having weird dreams about it.”

Pansy, while lifting Prim out of her highchair, commented, “This is first I’ve heard ‘bout these dreams.”

“It just seemed like a load of nonsense brought on by stress,” Alice mumbled.

“Right, so she won’t meet with you.” Taylor put the card down, newly informed. “She might actually be busy, or think she’s above you, but then why write at all? It’s a bit sus.”

“I was telling her,” Pansy insisted, “She’s gotta catch Queenie outside.”

“And I was saying,” Alice interjected, “what in the world am I going to say to her?!”

Giving this some thought, Taylor stared down at the letter. “Well, Queenie likes being buttered up, that’s for sure. You could start with that.”

“I don’t want to lie…”

“Don’t have to. She’s very fussy about her appearance, you only have to go on about how much effort she’s put in. Oh, but don’t make it sound like an insult.”

Alice cringed at the thought. Complimenting people wasn’t too hard, but it felt bad having an ulterior motive. Then again, Queenie was potentially keeping her possessions hostage—stealing, really—and that was worse. It wasn’t like she could go up and say, ‘You’re hiding something! Give me my necklace back!’ It just wouldn’t go down well. “I suppose we’ll scope out the villa and see what days she usually comes out, then.”

“She usually turns up in the town square on—oh, today,” Pansy offers, trying to make things easier, much to Alice’s horror. “We can go right now. Taylor, would you mind staying to look after Prim?”

“Er, sure.”

Alice dared not argue with the plan, but she’d been hoping to mentally prepare herself before being thrust outdoors to confront the noblewoman. Any hopes that Queenie wouldn’t be there were shattered when the square came into view. There she was, dressed to the nines in her blue gown, making conversation with a passerby. They left in a huff after Queenie said something she’d apparently found very amusing herself.

Pansy gave Alice a little nudge, and a reassuring smile. The human replied with a flat frown, annoyed that she’d chosen this to be some test of independence.

“Er, Queenie…” Alice started, scurrying up to ensure the noble wouldn’t make an unannounced getaway.

“Well, if it isn’t Alice Webbe.” Queenie was smiling, but it wasn’t clear whether she was pleased to see her or if she was contemplating a rude remark. “You’ve forgotten my title, I take it? Or perhaps my letter made you think we’re on first-name terms?”

“Are we…?”

“I’ll allow it, but don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

Alice remembered what Taylor said. “I came over to talk to you about the letter, actually, but I understand you’re busy—and I wanted to compliment you on how lovely your dress is.”

“Oh?” Queenie raised an incredulous eyebrow. “It is lovely, isn’t it. This is one of my favourites.”

“I really like your hair, too. Your ringlets are really stylish.” It was the truth, but Alice hoped she wasn’t laying it on too thick.

“Do you?” Queenie touched one of her deep brown ringlets, giving it a light tug. “You seem quite taken with my appearance, Miss Webbe. I didn’t realise your request to see me was so … dear to your heart.”

“Oh, er—actually—” Whoops. “Pansy said you’d found something that might belong to me.”

There wasn’t the slightest change in Queenie’s expression. “Something of yours? Hmm… I haven’t found anything with your name on it. I don’t usually pick up other people’s lost personal effects.”

“It’s a locket. A gold one.”

The heiress gave this some more thought—or pretended to. “I might’ve found something like that … but if I did, why would I give it back~?”

“Because—because it’s mine?!”

“As stated, I have nothing with your name on it. It was nice speaking with you, Webbe, but I must be off.” Queenie spun around, starting with a brisk walk before breaking into a run.

Momentarily stunned, Alice began to give chase. “Hey, wait!”

Pansy, who spent this time watching from afar, grasped the situation and started running too. Queenie was quick on her feet, and had a head start, but her bustle was slowing her down. Ever elegant, she lifted her skirt to continue, but her heels weren’t doing her any favours either.

As Alice dodged and weaved through passers-by, topiaries and market stalls, she felt her lungs burning. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do when she caught up—tackle Queenie or grab her arm—but right now she had to focus on getting there. Her own speed surprised her. “Can’t run fast in those shoes, can you?!”

Taunting her hadn’t been a wise idea. Queenie turned heel, outstretching her arm with a swooping ‘come here then’ motion, blasting dark ice onto the open road. It formed a slippery trail, finished with jagged icicles. Alice barely had time to react, shoes losing grip, careening toward frosty daggers. She braced for impact. But before she could be impaled, something stopped her. The icy thorns were inches away from her face . . . but were thankfully staying there. A warm feeling, a pink glow enveloped her whole body. Pansy’s telekinetic hold. She set her down away from the danger, rushing over. But Alice only seemed to have one thing on her mind. “D’you think that was ice magic or shadow magic?”

“Alice, you almost got seriously injured!”

“Oh—yes, and thank you for saving me.” She nods vigorously to show her gratitude. “I’ve just never seen ice this colour before—it’s sort of purple-black, like it’s composed more of dark matter, but definitely frozen…”

“It was almost red,” Pansy grumbles. “But if you really wanna know, I’ve never been able to damage her much, so her magicore ain’t ice.”

“Interesting—so her family must have taught her ice magic, probably due to their heritage.”

“Wh—yuh—” Pansy raises her hands, giving up. “Yeah, yeah, probably. She got away, so there’s no use chasing her no more. And—agh—I have a headache now.”

Alice looked back in the direction where Queenie had made her escape. One of the town residents was poking at the icicles. Alice sighs. “I suppose this puts us back at square one. Even if I try to get Queenie’s attention again, she’s just going to run away.”

“Mmn,” Pansy mutters, rubbing her temples. “Let’s go back to Taylor and see if he has any bright ideas.”

In the short time they’d been out, Taylor had constructed an obstacle course for Primrose to crawl through out of sofa cushions, blankets and pillows. He tried to excuse this behaviour as soon as Alice and Pansy walked in.

“It’s, er, it seemed like she’d have fun with it.”

“It’s cute,” Pansy chuckled, putting her keys up on their hook. She picked up Primrose, greeting her with mushy nonsense words.

Taylor directed his attention to Alice. “So, how’d it go?”

“Badly.” She folded her arms inwards. “It almost worked, but I think I got to my point too quickly. She ran.”

“Queenie nearly killed her, by the way!” Pansy interjected, her tone turning firm. “It’s not like she doesn’t know humans take damage different.”

“What’d she do?” Taylor stood, outstretching his arm as if to shield Alice from further harm.

Alice shook her head. “Oh, she just tried to make me slip—”

“Into a wall of ice spikes!” Pansy refuted.

“She probably knew you’d stop me.”

“Good goddesses, why are you defending her? I think you need a rest. Maybe some tea.” Pansy set Primrose down in Taylor’s arms, hurrying into the kitchen. Alice began to put the cushions back where they belonged.

“Are you okay, Alice?”

“Yes, Pansy saved me.”

“I mean emotionally. This plan was a bit…”

“Of a failure? I’m fine. Maybe a little embarrassed. I just want my stuff back.”

“But—”

“This isn’t the first time someone’s tried to kill me. And it won’t be the last.”

“Still… I don’t think that makes it okay.” Taylor held himself, not sure how else to tackle her statement. Primrose peered over his arms, staring intently at Alice as if she were part of the conversation. “Abaabwa.”

“Really.” Alice couldn’t hide her smile. “Taylor, do you have any other ideas about how we can get Queenie to ‘fess up?”

“I could give you a boost over her fence?”

“Yeah, that’s not happening. I was thinking more of an excuse to get permitted entry.”

Pansy reappeared with a tea-tray, a cup for each of them and a sugar bowl. “It’s not usually Queenie that opens her gates anyways.” She sets the tray down on a low table. “She’s got maids and butlers and stuff to deal with it.”

“Maybe we could get in via one of them, then? When did you go inside?”

“Oh, it was for gardening stuff. Maybe, though. She pays them well, they’re pretty loyal…”

“We could tell them you’re there to do the garden, and go in with you,” Taylor suggested, lighting up at his own idea.

Pansy put her mug to her lips with a frown. “I, er…” She took a sip. “I don’t know if they’d buy that, but I s’pose it’s worth a shot.”

“I don’t like lying,” Alice muttered, adding sugar to her tea.

“It’s the best idea we have, unless you’ve got a better one.” Taylor shook his head. “Better than trespassing.”

“You were the one that came up with the idea to trespass!”

“Hey, it would’ve worked.”

---

||Previous|| - ||Next||

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Dog Dean Afternoon: Part Two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon angst and violence

Summary: Something was taken from you, something so precious a mother should never have to lose. Then, you found something you’ve been searching for ever since your little angel was taken from you. Is this a new beginning or a fire waiting to burn?

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

x

Once they are put down, you sit next to the brothers who have already gotten started with the research.

"So, it turns out that it wasn't mace that they were sprayed with. It's necrosis, which is the premature death of tissue," Sam says.

"What caused it?" you ask.

"Venom from a poisonous snake. It makes sense since the taxidermist was constricted, Olivia and Dylan heard hissing, and they were sprayed in the eyes."

"By venom," Dean says in a deadpan voice.

"Be venom."

"What are we talking about here? Some sort of a freaky-ass snake monster?"

"Maybe. The weird thing is snakes can either envenomate or constrict. No snake does both. It could be a Vetala."

"Yeah, but they're not afraid to sink their fangs in. The taxidermist was bite-free. It doesn't really fit the profile."

Kevin would know more about it, and since he's at the Bunker with nothing to do, Dean makes sure there is something for him to research while he takes a break from the angel tablet. It's nearing two o'clock in the afternoon when you get a call about another murder. Joanna and Maryan have had enough time to sleep and not be cranky, so you're not worried about waking them up a little earlier than planned.

The next murder happened in a rural neighborhood that looks too nice to have anything bad happen to it. There are police cars surrounding the house as well as a coroner who is bringing the bodies out on stretchers.

Dean holds Maryann instead of keeping her in the stroller, and you hold Joanna's hand as you walk inside the house. It looks like they are finishing up here since you got the call a little late.

"What happened to them?" you ask the sheriff.

"Claw marks all over their bodies. They died from blood loss. These people just moved to this town not even a week ago, and they're already murdered."

"Anyone else in the house?"

"No, it was just the two of them. You're more than welcome to look around. We're pretty much done here. Just give me a call if you need me."

"Thanks."

As the last remaining officers shuffle out of the house, you walk inside. The place is bloody, but you know they'll clean that out in the next couple of days. You look back at Zeus to see him staring at the window to the second floor. You look at the stairs and wonder if the sheriff was mistaken, and if there is someone else here.

You leave Joanna with Sam and walk upstairs carefully in case there is someone else here, and they aren't good.

"Where are you going?" Dean asks.

"I don't know. I have a feeling."

Sam and Dean know never to ignore the feelings you get, so they quickly follow behind you. You walk into the master bedroom and look around. This is the room Zeus was staring into when you looked at him. Nothing seems out of place, and there isn't a drop of blood anywhere. You're about to leave when you hear a faint whimper come from the closet.

You walk over to it and pull it open to see a very young and very scared little boy crouched in the corner. He looks about seven, but he could be older. Something tugs at your heart, something that tells you you're supposed to be here.

"Oh, I didn't know there was anyone in here. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

You reach in, but the little boy scoots further away from you in fear you will hurt him.

"Is that a kid?" Dean asks from behind you.

You look at them and back at the boy to see him staring at them with wide eyes.

"Why don't you two wait downstairs? We'll be down in a minute." Thankfully, they listen to you. This kid isn't coming out of the closet without reassurance, so you take a seat outside of it and lean against the door. The back of the door knocks against the dresser which is why you can lean against it and not fall. "What's your name?"

"Noah," he says in a small voice.

"How old are you?"

"Ten."

He's so scared and hurt by what he must have experienced that it makes him look younger than he actually is. Again, that same something tugs at our heart strings even more. This time, it's a bit clearer why.

"No one is going to hurt you, Noah. You're safe now," you whisper, but that still doesn't make him want to come out. "What happened here?" He doesn't seem to trust you, so you take out your badge and show it to him. "I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to know what happened."

"A bad man came over with a dog and pretended he was hurt. My mom let him in, and that's when he attacked. I was able to run upstairs and hide so he wouldn't get me."

Your heart breaks at his story.

"What did this guy look like?"

"He was a tall white man. He had a hat on him."

His memory might be blocked from how traumatic this must have been, so you don't force him to remember anything else about the man.

"What kind of dog did he have?"

"A German Shepherd." Your mind goes to the Colonel, but you don't know why. "Am I going to die?"

"No," you quickly say. "No one is going to hurt you. I promise. If you come out of the closet, then I'll make sure you feel safe." He still doesn't trust you, so you have to try a different tactic. "My name is Y/N. What's your favorite animal?"

"Whales."

"Check this out, Noah," you grin.

Blue magic mists around your hands, and you create a magical blue whale that's about the size of your forearm. The whale starts to swim around in the air with sparkles of blue magic. Noah gasps and leans forward to watch the animal. The whale spits out water, but instead of water, it's blue magic. He locks eyes with you, and that's when it clicks in your head.

This little boy is meant to be in your life. You were meant to find him, to help him, and one day, to love him. Even though what you're thinking is wrong on so many levels, you can't think of a single reason not to do it.

Noah is meant to be your son.

"Now, someone who can create something like this can't be scary, can they?" The magic mists away. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm a witch, but a good witch."

"Like the fairy godmother?"

"Like Glinda, the good witch from the Wizard of Oz. Do you have any other family?"

"No."

"No siblings? No aunts or uncles? Grandparents?"

"No. All I had were my parents, but they're gone now."

If this little boy is alone, then he will be put into a foster home. Who's to say you can't adopt him?

"I saw my mom die when I was your age. It was very scary, and I thought I was going to get hurt."

"How were you able to not be scared anymore?"

"My husband's family took me in and took care of me. If you come out of the closet, I will take care of you like they did for me. I will protect you."

Somehow, he feels safe with you. He knows you won't hurt him because you've magically imprinted on him. This is someone you were meant to have in your life. Suddenly, all the pieces of your life fit together perfectly.

Noah was the missing piece. You might be crazy, in fact, you know you are. But that doesn't stop you from feeling this way.

You hold out your hand, and he takes it without a second thought. The both of you walk downstairs once he is ready to face them. As soon as he sees them, he becomes intimidated and hides behind your legs.

"Don't worry, Noah, they won't hurt you."

Without another word, you take him out to the car. You strap in your kids first, but you move Maryann to the third backseat since she is the lightest, and you can easily lift her up and over the seat. Next goes Joanna, and you place Noah where Maryann was sitting before. You get up and go to close the door, but he grabs your arm in fear.

"Where are you going?"

"I'll be right here. I'm just going to close the door. I'll be right here."

He lets go of your arm, and you close the door gently.

"What are you doing?" Dean asks as he and Sam join you.

"Sam, would you mind if I talk to my husband alone?" He nods and steps off to the side to give you some privacy. "Dean, this kid has no one. He has no family, and he'll end up in the foster care system if we bring him to the authorities. You know how bad those things are for most kids. They never take care of them. I don't think the Sheriff knew the couple had a kid."

Dean hears the question in your voice. You don't have to ask him what he knows you want to do.

"No. Absolutely not."

"I didn't ask you anything."

Dean looks around to make sure no one else can hear him before he speaks.

"We are not taking this child home," he whispers.

"Why not? Dean, the second I looked into his eyes, I knew he was meant to be our son. I was meant to take care of him. His parents died, and our son died."

"He isn't a replacement for Robert," Dean says angrily.

"I know he isn't, and he's not. You didn't see what I saw. This kid needs us just as much as I need him. If he goes into the foster care system, all that's letting us do is adopt him legally. We'd be saving him from years of abuse and mistreatment from someone who only sees him as a paycheck. We could give him the love he deserves."

Dean can see how crazy this is, but you can't. In fact, you don't think this is crazy at all. However, once you set your mind to something, it's hard to veer away from it.

"Look, I'm not asking you to say yes. I'm asking you to think about it. If you truly don't want this, then I won't force you. Just give me a week."

Your eyes go wide, you jut out your bottom lip, and you beg him with everything he's got. You both know he can't say no to you when you do this.

"Fine. One week. That's it."

"Thank you," you whisper. You move around to the other side of the car and get in so that Joanna sits in between you and Noah. "Noah? If you want to, you can come live with me and my family. You don't have to go into a foster home. It's your decision, and if you say no, then I will take you to the police."

"I want to stay with you," he says truthfully. "I also remembered something else about the man."

"What is it?"

"The man with the dog was driving a van belonging to the animal shelter in town. It's not far from here. My mom always told me we'd go there to adopt a dog, but she never did."

"We have a dog. You'll love him. Right, Zeus?"

Zeus moves to the other side of the seat and sniffs Noah to make sure he is okay. When Zeus finds nothing he doesn't like, he licks the side of Noah's face. Hearing Noah giggle brings you joy you never thought you'd have.

Dean walks over to Sam once you get into the car, and Sam is confused about the look on Dean's face.

"She is out of her fucking mind."

"What happened?"

"She wants to bring the kid home with us. As in, become his mother."

"What? You're really going to let her bring home a child? Do you see how wrong this is?"

"Of course I do, but I don't have a choice, Sammy. She gave me a week, and if I tell her no and try to take him away from her, I'm scared she'll break down. She can't handle any more pain."

"Dean, this is kidnapping. You're taking someone's child away."

"According to her, he has no family. His parents just died, and he'd be going to a foster home. She says if that happens, then all that would do is let her adopt him legally."

"Look, we will talk about this later, but right now, we need to focus on the case. I guess the kid can stay with us for tonight, and both of us will talk to her tomorrow."

"Fine."

Sam and Dean talk back to the car and get in. Neither one of them knows what to say to you, so you speak first.

"Noah says he saw the man who attacked his parents. He had a German Shepherd with him, and he drove a van that belongs to the local animal shelter. I think we should go there."

x

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