#didn’t even have bacon on the burger but I don’t think I’ll go here again versus the other places unless it’s rly good | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

muffinbeliever · 3 years

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When the Stars Align [07]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Soulmate!Reader

Word Count: 4717

Warnings: language, sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), ANGST, but also cute date fluff, Lisa Braeden (yes this is a warning), crying, body insecurity

Summary: Soulmate!AU– Everyone has the first words their soulmate says to them tattooed on their wrists. You and your cat are living a normal life in Fort Collins, Colorado when three men come bursting through your door, completely changing your life. Reader-insert story. Starts around S06E08, but Sam has his soul, and it doesn’t really follow the series from there

A/N: HELLO !!!! i apologize for the delay my classes have been swamping me with work and i already had writers block but i finished this chapter like five minutes ago and i'm desperate to post it and see what you guys think ! please be sure to leave comments and likes as always <3

Masterlist | When the Stars Align Masterlist

Sunlight illuminated Dean’s face that you admired as you drove along the open road. The windows were down, a light breeze flowing through the car. Occasionally, Dean would catch you staring at him, but you didn’t mind and neither did he.

You giggled when you noticed a familiar neon sign and the red leather booths that peaked through the window, having been here only a couple of hours before.

“What?” Dean looked over at you, nervous as he didn’t know why you laughed. You shook your head, before replying.

“I just really like this place,” you said, refraining from telling him about your earlier excursion with Thomas, not wanting it to ruin the moment. He gave you a soft smile.

“I remember,” he said, his eyes shining with fondness, “You mentioned that you come here a lot when you were showing me around.” Your heart soared at the fact that he remembered the small detail.

He parked the car, before quickly getting out of the car, jogging over to your side to open the door before you could even register what had happened. He extended his arm and you giggled at his silliness before getting out of the car. He closed the door behind you, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, gently leading you towards the diner.

There weren’t many people and you were grateful, hoping to have a quiet dinner with your soulmate and get to know him a bit better. He grabbed a booth snuggled against a corner of the room, gesturing you to sit down. You took one side of the table and he took the other side.

Two menus were placed on the table, and the dark-haired waitress flashed Dean a smile. She looked a couple of years older than you and her black jeans and tight shirt hugged her curves, her tied apron accentuating her slim waist. Her hair fell in gentle waves, framing her face in a way that yours never did.

“My name is Carmen, I’ll be serving you tonight,” she said directly to Dean. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, and you caught Dean glance at you.

“Can I start you off with anything to drink?” She asked, and Dean nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll have a Coke, please. Sweetheart, what about you?” He asked you kindly.

“A water, please,” you said to Carmen. Her eyes roamed your face and clothes, and she gave you a smirk.

“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she said, winking at Dean before walking away, her hips swaying with each step. There was a familiar sinking feeling in your chest that reeked of self-doubt.

Who did you think you are? Bagging a guy like Dean Winchester? Obviously, you weren’t terrible to look at, but you sure as hell weren’t a head-turner. Guys didn’t double take when you passed by nor did they try to pursue you. The only exception was Thomas, and you were sure that it was more of a friendly attraction than romantic.

You picked up a menu, not even sparing Dean a glance, trying to focus on what you were going to eat. Despite having eaten here many times, you were surprised at the selection they offered. Most times, you got a salad, sometimes switching it up with a burger, but the prospect of a pastrami sandwich sounded especially inviting tonight. You were debating ordering the pastrami, but decided that it probably wouldn’t look very attractive to eat. Besides, you were already self-conscious about your body, might as well try to eat healthily. Out of the corner or your eye, you saw Carmen approach your table, placing down the two drinks and straws.

“Have you decided what to get, sugar?” Carmen said, flashing a smile at Dean, not that he noticed. He was still looking at the menu, preoccupied with the dozens of choices to choose from.

“Yeah, uh… I’ll get the double bacon cheeseburger with fries on the side,” he said, before looking up and handing her his menu.

“And you?” She asked in a bored tone.

“I’ll get the chicken salad please, dressing on the side,” you said and she wrote it down before leaving. Dean gave you a look.

“Salad? I thought you liked burgers,” he observed, and you felt your heart sink. You didn’t want to be a salad girl, but here you were. You chastised yourself, this is Dean. He doesn’t care if you eat a pastrami sandwich.

“You’re right, I’ll be right back,” you said with newfound courage before getting up from the booth and walking over to the counter. You were able to call out to Carmen.

“Actually, can I have the pastrami sandwich with a side of fries instead of the salad?” She scoffed.

“Figures,” she muttered, “You don’t look like the salad type.”

Her bitchy tone cut through your heart like a knife. You were taken aback, unable to think for a second. You tried formulating a response, but she was already gone. You looked over at Dean who was typing away on his phone, probably texting Sam. You were defeated once again by a beautiful woman.

You made your way to the table, sitting down, lost in your thoughts. Dean’s phone was put away and you were staring at the table. Thinking for a second, you got up, and a look of confusion flashed in Dean’s eyes, but it was gone when you slid into the booth right next to him.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Get a little lonely over there?” He joked and you rolled your eyes before snuggling closer to him, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne.

“Just missed you was all,” you mumbled into his shoulder and he kissed the top of your head.

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” he said, “but I can tell something is wrong.” He gave you a knowing look.

“Carmen is pretty,” you admitted, hating that you were being petty.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” he said, and you scoffed, pulling away to look at him.

“I’m not jealous,” you said, hoping you sounded more confident than you felt.

“I was just… I was making sure that… I…” you stammered before sighing, your shoulders falling in defeat.

“Yeah, okay maybe I was a little jealous. But clearly, we’re here together and she just kept staring at you, and don’t even get me started on how she talked to me.” You could feel yourself sinking deeper into your thoughts, hating that your stupid insecurities were about to ruin the date.

“What did she say to you?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing. You shook your head, debating on not telling him, but his deep green eyes were full of concern and worry.

“Just that I don’t look like the salad type,” you said, lowering your head in embarrassment. A hand came up to cup your cheek and your eyes met his once again.

“That’s bullshit. You’re beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m only yours, sweetheart,” he said, sincerely, before pulling you into a gentle kiss. It was scary how easily that calmed you down. You had struggled with insecurities for the majority of your life, and it usually took a couple of days, if not weeks, to pull yourself out of the dark hole in your mind, but one kiss from Dean, and all of the sudden, your heart stops racing and your thoughts slow.

Your kiss was disrupted by a clatter of plates on the table. Carmen didn’t speak a word to either of you and she was about to leave when Dean called out to her.

“You’re going to apologize to my girlfriend and then we’re getting a new server. You have no right to speak to her like that,” Dean defended you, an angry look on his face.

“Dean,” you whispered, a bit embarrassed by how this was going. She wasn’t exactly wrong, you weren’t supermodel-thin nor did you have amazing curves that drove men wild.

“Sorry,” Carmen said, not sounding sorry at all, before spinning on her heels and walking away from the table.

“Bitch,” Dean muttered, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed you were lost in your thoughts, a small frown on your face. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head before you turned to look up at him.

“Let’s just enjoy our date,” you said with a hopeful smile, and he nodded. Forty minutes, a pastrami sandwich, and a double bacon cheeseburger later, you were giggling like a schoolgirl, enamored by the man sitting next to you.

“Sammy was sitting on the handlebars while I rode us to the hospital!” Dean exclaimed and you laughed at the story. He snatched a fry off your plate and dipped it in ketchup before shoving it in his mouth. You were acutely aware of the warmth radiating from his thigh that was pressed against yours. Caught up in his green eyes, you didn’t notice a man approach the table.

“How was the food?” You jumped, shocked at his sudden appearance. It was the manager, John or Jacob or something with a ‘J’. He came over after you complained about Carmen, apologizing for her behavior and telling you that he would be serving you for the rest of the night.

You beamed at him, completely satisfied with the pastrami sandwich that was now happily sitting in your stomach.

“Great!” Dean responded, flashing him a smile. The manager returned the smile before continuing.

“Because of your unpleasant start to the evening, dessert is on us. We have root beer floats, ice cream sundaes, and a variety of pies,” he listed, and you immediately looked at Dean whose eyes lit up.

“We’ll take a slice of apple pie, please,” Dean responded right away, his hand squeezing yours in excitement. You giggled at the smile on his face. The manager nodded and left the table, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence. You looked up at him, admiring the freckles dotting his face. He gave you a soft smile that you returned and you leaned in for a kiss. It was a chaste kiss, not one of need or lust, but adoration and love.

Throughout the months, you have accepted that you had fallen for the oldest Winchester brother. There was the obvious fact that he was your soulmate, the one person in the world made exactly for you, but you knew that even if that weren’t the case, you would have still been in love with Dean. You loved his wit and charm, often catching yourself imagining his flirtatious winks. Not only was he gorgeous to look at, but he didn’t flaunt it like other men did. Sure, he knew he was attractive, but you at times, you sensed deep-rooted insecurities from him, which you thought was ridiculous since he was basically built like a Greek god. He was selfless to a fault; always putting everyone before himself. His loyalty to Sam was admirable, and you had no doubt that he would do anything for those he loved.

The manager placed a giant steaming slice of pie between the two of you, two forks on the side of the plate as well as whipped cream. You expected Dean to dig right in, but he looked at you expectantly. The scent of the spiced apple filled wafted from the plate and made your mouth salivate. Dean picked up a fork and detached a large piece from the tip of the slice. Before you could even register his actions, he brought the fork up to your mouth and pressed it against your closed lips. You accepted it without question, humming as the warm treat hit your tongue.

“That bad, huh?” Dean joked with a twinkle in his eye. You smiled at him before returning the favor. Your fork didn’t grab nearly as big of a piece as his did, but you focused on the way his lips wrapped around the fork. His tongue swiped at his upper lip, not wanting to waste a single crumb of pie.

Heat pooled in your belly and you clenched your thighs together, remembering just how much of an expert he was with his tongue. He groaned, his eyes closed as he savored the pie, and the sound shot straight to the apex of your thighs. You let out a small whimper, and his eyes flashed open. His green eyes swept your figure, taking in your squished thighs and flushed neck before smirking at you.

“Later, sweetheart,” he promised, his fingers dancing on the top of your thighs. You could feel his warmth through your jeans, sparks of electricity shooting through you with every touch. You shuffled closer to him, wanting your bodies as close as possible.

“You want some more?” He offered to you and you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Dean got another piece of pie and shoved it in his mouth. You looked at him, confused, and he smirked at you once again before pulling you into a searing kiss. You let out a soft moan as his tongue played with yours, the taste of apple pie fresh in your mouths. His hand tightened around your thigh at the sound. He was the first to pull away, breathless.

“Let’s get this to go, ya?” He suggested with a wink and you giggled, nodding. You were lost in his smile, noting the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and his full lips turned up. He waved the manager down and asked for a box and the check. You placed the pie delicately in the take-out box as Dean set down enough cash to cover for the meal and tip.

You slid out of the booth first, pulling your leather jacket on and Dean’s hand rested on the small of your back, leading the both of you out of the diner. As you expected, the air was crisp and chilled. He opened the door of the Impala for you, making sure you were safely inside before shutting it. You watched as he jogged over to the driver's side, sliding in next to you. Grateful for the long bench, you shifted closer to Dean and his hand came to rest comfortably on your thigh.

The soft sounds of Bon Jovi whispered through the speakers, barely noticeable unless you strained your ears. The windows were closed this time due to the slightly colder weather, but you were warm with Dean beside you.

There wasn’t much talking on the way home. You sat in a comfortable silence, occasionally feeling his eyes on your face, but every time you looked at him, he was looking away, a smile on his face. After the third time, you huffed and grabbed his hand from your thigh, interlacing your fingers with his. He looked at you, surprise written on his face, and you gave him a triumphant smile. He brought your interlocked hands up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your hand.

Before you knew it, the familiar light of your street came into view and he pulled his car up in front of your house. You didn’t want to let go of his hand, so you slid out his door after he did, holding the box of pie in your other hand. The crickets were chirping as you walked up to the front door.

‘Later, sweetheart,’ came the echo of his voice throughout your mind, and you pulled him into the house, roughly kissing him once the door was closed. His arms came to your shoulders, gently pushing off the sleeves of your leather jacket. You struggled a little bit, not wanting to drop the pie in your hand, before Dean took it from you, setting it on the small table next to your door that usually held nothing but a small succulent.

He pulled off your shirt in a swift motion and his lips began traveling down your neck, occasionally sucking and licking sensitive spots. You gasped as he nibbled your earlobe.

“So responsive,” he murmured and an involuntary shiver ran through your body. His leg gently pushed your legs apart and his thigh pressed against your covered core. His hands gripped your waist, and you ground against his thigh, the friction of your jeans rubbing against your sensitive bud in a deliciously perfect way.

“Good girl,” he praised, continuing his trail of kisses from your neck down to the tops of your breasts.

“So beautiful,” he whispered to himself, staring at your flushed chest. You were wearing a simple bra, nothing fancy or particularly sexy, but Dean made you feel like you were in expensive lingerie, draped in the finest lace and silk in the world. You moaned wantonly, begging for more. You picked up the rhythm, moving faster against his thigh. He watched you with lust-filled eyes, devouring you. The pressure between your legs kept building until it finally peaked, and you came with a loud moan. Dean placed gentle kisses on your sweaty forehead, relaxing you as you came down from your high. His leg came down, setting your feet gently on the floor. Your legs felt like jello, occasional spasms wracking through them.

“Maybe we should move this to the bedroom,” you suggested, not wanting the night to be over. He picked you up in his arms and carried you bridal style into your room. He gently tossed you onto the bed. He peeled his clothes off and you wriggled out of your tight jeans and soaked underwear. Your hands went behind your back to unclasp your bra and you flung it off the bed, hearing it land on the floor with a soft thud. You laid back down on the bed, fully naked and ready for Dean.

His eyes swept over your naked body and you spied his cock straining through the fabric of his boxers. He quickly discarded his underwear and laid on top of you, his firm chest pressing against your naked breasts. You could feel him hard against your stomach and you snaked a hand between the two of you, wrapping your hand around his shaft.

Your thumb wiped across the slit, catching the beads of precum that were leaking from his tip. His breath caught and you slowly pumped him in your hands. One of his large hands came to rest on your right breast, his thumb brushing against your pebbled nipple. The other hand dipped into your wet folds, collecting your juices on his digits. You watched him suck them off his fingers before they were venturing into you once again. You whined, not wanting to wait another second for his cock to be inside you.

“Please,” you said, squirming beneath him. He had one hand lazily circling your clit and the other pinching and tugging at your breasts.

“Please what, sweetheart?” he asked, power dripping from his words. You searched for more friction, but couldn’t find any.

“Please fuck me,” you begged. “I want to feel you inside me please. Fill me up with your big cock.”

“Fuck, baby,” he swore under his breath, before lining himself at your entrance. With a single thrust, he was completely unleashed in you, and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. He groaned into your neck, still not used to your tightness and warmth surrounding him. When you were adjusted to his large size, he began moving inside you.

His cock dragged along your walls with every thrust, emptying you and filling you repeatedly. Your legs hooked around his back, driving him deeper into you, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. Your moans bounced off the walls, as did his low grunts.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he demanded, his fingers working your clit once again. Your eyes clenched shut as you came around him with a scream. He pulled you into a bruising kiss and his thrusts became sloppy as he raced to catch his release, pulling out of you and spilling himself on your chest and stomach. Spent, he rolled next to you, the two of you heaving to catch your breath.

“Wow,” you whispered once your racing heart began to slow. He turned his face towards you, grinning.

“Yeah,” he agreed, before climbing out of bed to get you a damp towel. The two of you cleaned up in silence. He pulled on boxers and you pulled on underwear and his t-shirt, switching the light off before falling back into bed. His arms rested around you, your chests pressed against each other.

“Thank you for taking me on a date,” you said, catching his eyes with yours, “I’ve never been on one before, but I’m glad I waited for you.” You felt his body tense and his lips pressed tightly together.

“Sweetheart,” he started, and you saw regret fill his eyes.

“I should’ve waited for you. I wish I did,” he admitted, his voice tense. You shook your head and tried to press closer to him, but he pulled away.

“Dean,” you asked, confused, but it was his turn to shake his head.

“I never thought I’d meet you. I always thought this—,” he gestured towards your body, “you— I thought it was impossible. The life I live is not made for soulmates. I never imagined myself living a normal life with my soulmate. I couldn’t even bear the thought of it. So I didn’t.”

He ran a hand down his face, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. You tugged at his hand, wanting to see him.

“I know that you have more experience than I do, Dean. That doesn’t bother me,” you tried to explain, but he pulled his hand away from yours.

“You don’t even know half of it,” he snapped back, and you pulled back at his sharp tone.

“Then explain it to me,” you demanded, knowing that this conversation had been boiling for a while and that it was only a matter of time before it reared its ugly head again. Dean must’ve known it too, because his eyes softened and he rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

“At first, it was just a bunch of one-night stands,” he started, and you laid stiffly, afraid that he would stop talking if you moved.

“I spent a lot of nights picking up girls in bars. I would flirt with them and take ‘em home. I’d show them a good time and leave before they’d wake up in the morning. It went on like that for years. I didn’t think I’d ever meet you. Hell, I didn’t even know if I’d be alive to meet you.

“But then I met Lisa, and for the first time in my life, I wanted to spend another night with a girl. I ended up spending a whole week at her place. I knew she wasn’t my soulmate. I knew that her soulmate died in a car accident years before. I knew that the universe didn’t perfectly make us for each other, but at the time, I didn’t care. Sam and Dad were on a case and I was alone.

“I thought about her a lot during my time on the road. I wanted to cling onto something— I needed to cling onto something. Years passed, and I still didn’t meet you. Me and Sammy ended up working a case in her city. I met her son.”

Your breath hitched. Her son? Dean turned his head towards you at the sound and saw the panic flash across your eyes.

“Oh no, Ben wasn’t my kid. I swear,” he tried to reassure you, but you didn’t feel comforted at the thought, you merely nodded, gesturing for him to resume his story.

“The apocalypse was approaching, and I was scared. I was weak and scared. I didn’t think I’d make it, and I had accepted the fact that I wouldn’t meet you before the world ended. I thought Lisa and Ben were all I had. I dreamed about her, quite a bit, really. I dreamed about having a life with her, mowing the lawn on Saturdays and picking Ben up from baseball practice. I visited her again before the whole Lucifer-Michael showdown happened. I told her that I’d made arrangements to keep her and Ben safe, and she asked me to stay with her, but I knew that I couldn’t. I had to be there for Sammy. For Bobby.

“But then, Sam was in the cage. I was lost and broken. So I did the only thing that I could think of. I left the hunting life and moved in with Lisa.” His words pierced you like a knife, your heart shattering into pieces. Tears pooled in your eyes.

You weren’t exactly sure why you were upset. It wasn’t his fault that the two of you hadn’t met at the time. It wasn’t his fault that he met Lisa before he met you. It wasn’t his fault that he sought comfort in her when you weren’t there for him. You knew it was no one’s fault, just circumstance, but that didn’t keep you from feeling a sting of betrayal.

“How long?” You whispered, knowing that if you spoke any louder it would crack and you would burst into tears. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know the answer. He was silent for a moment, and you thought he wouldn’t respond.

“A year,” he said, his voice hoarse, seemingly filled with regret, concern, and pain. Your stomach dropped. A year? He spent a whole year with her. A whole year with her and her son. Their son. It didn’t matter that Dean wasn’t Ben’s biological father, you already knew that Dean loved him like his own. You let out a shaky breath, preparing yourself to ask the question that had been floating around your mind ever since he started.

“Did you love her?”

You couldn’t even meet his eyes. You looked anywhere but him, your eyes roaming over your ceiling instead of the green eyes that were staring at you. He was quiet, and you closed your eyes, feeling tears spill down the side of your face.

“I thought I did, but I don’t know anymore,” came his whispered reply. “In some ways, it probably was love. But not the kind of love that would survive. I couldn’t live a life without hunting. She couldn’t live a life with hunting.”

You winced at his words. The implication that if they were able to compromise, he wouldn’t be laying next to you right now, but next to her. You wished he had just said yes. Maybe it would’ve hurt less.

“Okay,” you said because there was nothing else to say. You contemplated kicking him out of the bed, but you still loved him, and you knew that it would just pain you more. You turned over on your side, your back facing him. You pulled the covers up, wanting them to swallow you whole. There was movement on the bed and you heard the shuffling of sheets, feeling Dean’s warm body come close to yours to hold you, but you tensed up.

“Please don’t,” you whispered, and he stilled before respecting your wishes, retreating back to his side of the bed. You gripped a pillow against your side, hugging it for comfort. You tried to keep your sobs silent, but there was no use hiding them.

You cried for your pain and hurt, wanting to hate Dean, but you couldn’t. You cried for the love lost between the two of you. You cried because you didn’t know if he even wanted you. But most of all, you cried for Dean. You cried for the burdens he’s endured and that you couldn’t be there for him during times of hardship. You cried because you knew that it wasn’t Dean’s fault, yet here you were punishing him because you were really punishing yourself.

As your tears slowed and your breath became steady again, you were exhausted. You were already drifting off to sleep when you felt Dean’s fingers in your hair and a gentle kiss to your forehead. Too tired to argue, you snuggled into his body and let sleep take you away.

Taglist: @akshi8278 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @lanea-1 @slamminmine

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x soulmate!reader #dean winchester x y/n #reader x dean #reader x dean winchester #y/n x dean winchester #y/n x dean #dean winchester angst #dean angst #dean winchester fluff #dean fluff #supernatural #supernatural series #muffinbeliever

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

First Date

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

Pairing: Landscaper!Dean x reader

Square: First Date

Word Count: 1,900ish

Warnings: language, fluff

A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo . Enjoy!

_______

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two Weeks Later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Name sounds familiar is all,” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two Weeks Later

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

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

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

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

“You like lemonade?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One Month Later

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

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

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

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

Plant should be all good now. Enjoy your weekend.

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

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

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

“Are they black?” you asked.

“Yeah. You find them?” he asked.

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

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

“Yeah?”

“You single?”

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes you will, sweetheart.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Same,” you said.

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

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

“Too much?” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____

#spndeanbingo #dean x reader #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean fanfiction #dean fanfic #dean x #dean x you #dean #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction

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curlynerd · 3 years

Text

You're Bacon Me Crazy Word Count: 2K Rating: T Summary: "I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!" Or, Dean comes out through complicated burger metaphors. Notes: humor, canon-adjacent, coming out, established Destiel, #pray4Sam

Also read on AO3!

"You're really having two burgers, Dean?" Sam asks in his most smug, most obnoxious "I’m eating kale for lunch" voice. Dean really hates that voice.

Dean straightens his back and spreads his hands out, like the two wrapped burgers, the extra large fries, and the soda with two straws are a majestic bounty. “I’m a growing boy, Sammy."

“Uh-huh,” Sam deadpans. He lifts the takeout lid of his salad and starts carefully drizzling the vinaigrette cup over his bed of leafy greens and grilled chicken. “And you’re definitely not going to bully Cas into splitting them with you? You know he doesn’t need to eat.”

Something tight and anxious curls in Dean’s chest. “No!” he blurts out, realizing a second too late that it’s normal for him to share his food with Cas. Just because he’s been doing it more now that he and Cas are finally together does not mean that it’s weird now.

In response to Dean’s defensiveness, Sam raises a self-righteous eyebrow in sync with his salad-laden fork. “Can he even really taste them? I thought he didn’t like food in angel mode.”

Dean swallows down a multitude of answers. He likes sharing the experience with Cas anyway. He thinks the way his face scrunches up at the molecules is cute. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside that an angel -- his angel -- is willing to put up with something so silly and mundane and human as taste-testing different burgers.

He really, really needs to tell Sam the truth about him and Cas. Hell, he’s been trying to for months! But every time the perfect opportunity presents itself, he turns into a fuckin’ coward.

And today definitely is another perfect moment. The conversation has naturally turned to Cas. They’re sitting at a picnic table at the park, with nobody around to overhear Dean spill his guts in the most agonizing and uncomfortable way possible. They’re working a case, so immediately after the conversation Dean can bury himself in research and hunting and not have to deal with Sam’s big, obnoxious “let’s make a huge deal out of this!” puppy dog eyes. And Cas isn’t even here right now to make things more awkward. He’s still checking out the victim at the coroner's office across the street.

Dean tries not to think about what a big baby he’s being by ignoring this golden opportunity. “He just tastes stuff different as an angel. He’s learning how to pick out the nuance.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Because there’s so much nuance to ‘extra cheese’ or ‘hold the tomato.’”

“Oh like you’d know, Mr. Tofu Burger.”

“You’d eat a burger off the floor. Are you really trying to convince me you care about what kind of burger it is?”

Dean huffs and levels an indignant glare at his brother. “I absolutely have a favorite burger.”

“Then why’d you get two different kinds?”

"I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!"

Sam snorts. "That's just an excuse to eat more burgers." He spears a forkful of tomato and spinach with a smug little twinkle in his eye.

"It's so not," Dean insists. He gestures at the two wrapped foil rounds in front of him. “These are two unique burgers that both have their own delicious qualities.”

“Really?” Sam’s expression is so pompous Dean kind of wants to throw a french fry at it. Except that would be a waste of a perfectly good fry.

“Yes ‘really.’ Look--” Dean carefully unwraps his first burger. “This is a pickle burger. And not just any ol’ pickle burger. The best, most amazing, and -- dare I say it? -- sexiest pickle burger in the entire continental US.” He smirks as Sam rolls his eyes. “Now I can tell by that condescending look in your eye, you’re wondering, ‘What the hell is so special about a pickle burger? It’s just pickles!’ But that’s where you’re wrong.” Dean lifts the top bun and points down to the burger, looking almost gleeful at all its toppings. “Fried pickles, pickled red onions, relish…Sour and sweet and crunchy, the perfect compliment to a juicy, meaty burger. And one this big? You’ve gotta have a little something special to handle all this meat.” Sam tilts his head, his mouth twitching like Dean said something embarrassing. Was it waxing poetic about vegetables? Probably. Dean chooses to ignore it.

“Ya know,” he continues, “for the longest time I didn’t think I’d like a pickle burger. For years I’d be at diners and think, ‘...maybe? I dunno. Probably not for me.’” Dean pulls his mouth down into a thoughtful frown and bobs his head to mimic his past thoughts. “And then...I’m not sure, I just figured, why not at least try it? All those burgers I’ve had all over the country; I could at least give it a whirl. And it. Was. Awesome!” Dean gently places the bun back on his burger and gives it a little affectionate pat. “Now I can’t get enough of ‘em.”

Sam's expression does a complicated dance that Dean can't even begin to follow. But it suddenly clears into a look of dawning realization, followed quickly by horrified guilt, before it clamps down entirely.

Weird.

"Well...I can't fault someone for enjoying a good pickle burger," Sam says slowly. He doesn't meet Dean's eye, keeping his gaze down as he delicately stabs at his salad with his fork. He frowns at the cucumber slice he spears and carefully dislodges it from the prongs. "Especially if they really like, uh, pickles?" Sam cringes a little down at his greens. Dean can't blame him. It's a sad looking salad.

"Exactly!" Dean gestures down at the burger. "I'm a meat man and a pickle guy." Sam looks up toward the sky and then down toward the ground below with a sort of pleading desperation. "This is a great burger for me. And don't even get me started on the sauce--"

"Okay!" Sam's voice pitches up several octaves. Dean frowns at him, but before he can ask, Sam takes a deep breath and plasters a warm, understanding smile across his face. "You know what? You're right, Dean. After all this time. All those, uh...burgers. I'm glad you've figured out which one you like best."

"Well, not quite. I mean, this one…" Dean carefully unwraps the second burger. "Is there anything sexier than a breakfast burger?" He practically beams down at the golden-brown bun, the fringes of fried egg drooping over the side, crisp bacon peeking out from under the patty.

"I...I don't know?" Sam has the same terrified expression as when Dean drags him onto ramshackle roller coasters at crappy county fairs. God, he's such a baby about cholesterol.

“Yeah. C’mon, you know they’re great!” Dean says cavalierly, because he’s not going to miss a chance to gloat about the awesome food Sam misses out on with all his salads. “Bacon is, you know, bacon! It’s the best tasting thing in the world! Salty, greasy, crunchy…”

Sam’s brow furrows so deeply it’s like it’s mining for coal, his unfocused eyes searching the empty space between them like he’s trying to figure out the deep, dark mystery of bacon.

Dean rolls his eyes. Of course he wouldn’t understand. The dude eats low sodium turkey bacon. "I know you haven't had good, real bacon in ages--" Sam looks offended. Then confused. Then offended again. "--but trust me, man. It's awesome. When ya got bacon in your burger, it automatically makes the burger a hundred times better. Can’t get enough of it!” Sam groans like he's in pain.

Dean grins and keeps going. “And you’ve gotta admit, a fried egg is a thing of beauty. Give me a good silky, drippy egg all over my burger and I’m a happy guy.” Sam’s nose scrunches up into abject horror. “You get that gorgeous, soft yolk oozing everywhere...It’s creamy and delicious and unctuous and--”

“Dean!” Sam shrieks. He lets his fork fall into his bowl and covers his face with both his hands. His voice is muffled, but it’s definitely a tormented whine. “I know this is a tough topic for you, but can you please just say you’re bi and never use words like ‘unctuous’ again? I’m begging you!”

Dean freezes. “Wh-What?” Did Sam really--? He--? How does he know?!

Sam pops up from his elbows, dragging both hands through his hair as he frees his face from hiding. “I get it, dude. Okay? I get it. I mean...I don’t get it.” He glances down at the two burgers with a perturbed look and holds up his hands in surrender. “But I get it.”

Dean stares at him. “Get what?” he demands. His heart is pounding fast. Bi. Sam knows he’s bi. When did he figure it out?! Why’s he bringing it up now?!

Sam fixes him with a flat look. “The burgers? The...God...bacon sex metaphor? The pickle guy thing? I get it. Please. Please stop talking about eggs like that. I’ll never eat an omelette again!”

Sex metaphors? Pickle guy?! Dean takes a moment to think and...yeah. Yup. He really did say “I’m a pickle guy,” out loud. Wow.

Maybe he should just...roll with it?

Because otherwise Sam is definitely going to mock him for that for the rest of his life, and honestly, coming out is the much better option.

“You got me,” Dean says with a small laugh. He spreads his arms out with a bit of a flourish, and it’s a relief to say it. It feels good. “What can I say? I like all kinds of burgers. And hotdogs. Tacos. Kielbasa...”

“Please stop,” Sam groans, rubbing at his eyes with his hand.

Oh yeah, this is definitely the better option. Dean fell ass-backwards into a conversation he’s been dreading for months, and the only person feeling awkward and miserable here is Sam!

Really it’s a win-win.

Dean grins from ear to ear as he relishes Sam’s mortification. “Hey now, I thought you were supportive! What happened to ‘I’m happy for you and your burgers?’”

“I am happy for you, I just wish this wasn’t happening over lunch…” Sam whines as he drops his hands on the table.

“What’s Sam happy about?” Cas asks, startling the both of them by approaching their picnic table. His eyes are earnest and sincerely curious, which only causes Sam to send a miserable, pleading look his way while shaking his head.

“Sam thinks pickles are gay,” Dean says to Cas with the same sort of smug glee of the teacher’s pet tattling about note passing in class.

Cas scrunches his face in confusion as he sits down beside Dean. “Sam, that’s...nonsensical.”

“That’s what I said!” Dean lies, because the way Sam’s eyebrow is twitching right now is too damn funny. “Wait til you hear what he thinks about bacon.”

Sam drops his face into his hands again. “This is the worst day of my life,” he groans as he massages his temples with his fingers.

Cas furrows his brow at him. “You’ve been to Hell.”

“And I’m still there, apparently!” Sam flings his hand up in exasperation. Cas quietly takes a sip of Dean’s drink, which for some reason just pisses Sam off more.

“You know, you could have just been normal about this. No weird, gross food metaphors. Just--” Sam drops his voice several octaves and bobs his head in a deliberately annoying parody of Dean. “--‘Hey Sam, by the way, I’m bi and totally in love with Cas, no big deal,’ or whatever.”

Dean goes still while Cas tilts his head at the two of them.. “Who says I’m in love with Cas?” Wait. Is that obvious too? Shit, well, looks like he gets to rip two bandaids off today. Thank God for the hilarious panic on Sam's face, because otherwise Dean would be the one freaking out here.

Sam’s eyes go huge, all color draining out of his face. “Oh shit. I didn’t-- I’m sorry, I--”

Dean can only manage to maintain the ruse for a few seconds before he bursts out laughing. “Nah, I’m just messing with you. Where have you been, man? Cas and I have been together for ages. I thought you were the smart one!”

Sam looks like he wants to leap across the picnic table and strangle Dean.

With a glare so sour it could peel paint, Sam snatches Dean’s extra large order of french fries and storms off toward the car to sulk. About three paces away, he stops, turns around, and levels a stern finger at Dean alongside his scowl. “For the record. I’m proud of you. And I’m honored you chose to trust me with this information,” he hisses in a frustrated huff before he spins on his heel and marches away.

Dean wipes a tear from his eye, still chuckling under his breath. Cas stares after Sam in concern.

“Why is he so mad?”

Dean shrugs off the question as he slides the pickle burger in front of Cas and nudges him with his elbow to try it. “Hell if I know. If you ask me, dude needs to have a burger every once in awhile.”

#destiel #deancas #destiel fanfiction #deancas fanfiction #supernatural #spn #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #katie writes things #this is either the best thing I've written or the worst thing I've ever written. possibly both #I'm very sorry for making you read the bit about the fried egg

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winchester-purgatory · 3 years

Text

My brother’s best friend | Dean Winchester (part 1)

Summary: Dean visits his brother in Palo Alto...and fall for the redhead crashing in Sam’s bed

Word count: 1.8k

Palo Alto, California 2004

''Are you kidding me?'' Sam grumbled as he checked through the peephole of his small apartment, seeing his big brother on the other side.

It was rare - very, very rare - that Dean would visit him. He'd rather vagabond from states to states in his precious Impala than visit his little brother who was in college, getting a degree, aka doing something of his life.

The only times he'd visit was if something happened to their dad - or when he needed something. Nine times out of ten, it was the latter.

Although they had been raised by the same man, the two brothers were very different. Their lifestyle, by example, was polar opposite. Sam was pursuing law studies and planned on become a criminal lawyer while Dean prefered to jump from states to states - or, in Sam's words, from bed to bed - without ever settling. He was also a walking trouble, always getting himself tangled in some messy crap.

When they were kids, their uncle Bobby used to joke and said that Sam would help Dean get out of jail one day. He couldn't be closer to the truth.

Reluctantly, Sam unlocked and opened the door, skipping the greetings. ''What are you doing here?'' he hissed at his brother, keeping the door as closed as possible - and blocked - so Dean wouldn't peek inside or simply invite himself in.

''Hello to you too, Sammy.''

''What do you want?'' Sam demanded.

''Who said I needed something? Can't I miss my little brother?''

If Sam hadn't known his brother so well, he would've believed him. But, this was Dean.

''It's almost midnight and I have class at eight, Dean. I don't have time for placotage. What is it this time? Your girlfriend dumped you? You're out of money? Whichever, I can't do anything. I'm just as broke as you.''

He wasn't always this intolerant, but school had been stressful these past weeks and the younger Winchester was running on short nights and large coffees from all his hard studying. Therefore, he wasn't in the mood to deal with Dean's bullshit.

Dean rolled his eyes. ''I'm not here for money. I just need a place to crash. I was at this car expo with some guys from the auto shop I work at and, instead of spending a handful on a shitty motel, I thought of you and your old couch.''

Auto shop? Last time they spoke, he was working night shifts at a 7/11. That's an upgrade, Sam noted.

''Nice of you to think of me, but you can't stay here. I...I sold the couch. And, I have to study for-''

I sold the couch? Try again Sammy.

Not letting the brunet finish, Dean ignored him and pushed the door wider, walking in as if it was his place.

He glanced around the small apartement, the office lamp on the desk creating a dim light throughout the whole place. Like Dean remembered, the appartement was cramped. You could barely fit any furnitures beside a couch, a desk and a bed. It was a college student appartement, you can't expect too much. He immediately remarked the laptop set up on the desk with a pile of papers ant textbooks, mimicking the same set up Sam had in his old bedroom.

''Dean, I said-''

Panic rose inside Sam, whirling around and trying to push the blond out of his apartment, but it was too late. He had seen her. The fire haired girl sleeping peacefully in Sam's bed.

A smirk formed on the older's lips, turning his head in Sam's direction. ''Is that what you were trying to hide from me? From Dad? That you had a girlfriend? Oh Sammy. Always been shy about that stuff...''

Sam closed the door and sighed. ''She's not my girlfriend. And, keep it down, will you?''

Dean cocked an eyebrow. ''Why is she sleeping in your bed then, uh?'' He shook his head, smirking, convinced that he had demasked his brother. ''You know, Sammy, you've never been the master liar between the two of us. Is that why you ignored Dad's calls? Because you were too busy-''

''Dean,'' Sam hissed, narrowing his eyes in warning, not letting him time to finish his sentence.

He knew how filter-less his brother was and, even though the redhead was sleeping soundly, Sam would rather not risk her waking up to some dude she didn't know was insinuating events that never happened between she and Sam. That would be creepy and awkward.

Dean rolled his eyes. ''Right. I forgot how much of a prude you are.''

''She's a friend,'' Sam insisted, sighing with tiredness. ''She got into a bad argument with her boyfriend and needed a safe place to stay.''

''And you're trying to make me believe nothing happened under the sheets?'' Dean sank into Sam's couch and shook his head disapprovingly. ''You're such a let down, Sammy... How can you let a hot girl crash in your bed and pass the opportunity for a good time?''

''Because, unlike you, I think with my brain instead of my dick. She needed a roof, Dean, not a new dick.''

Dean smirked. ''Look where that got you.''

Like always, Dean got what he wanted and crashed at Sam's.

Well, he 'accidently' fell asleep on the couch while his brother was studying, giving Sam no choice but to let him sleep after trying times and times to wake him unsuccessfully.

The sound of glass clashing and shattering pulled Dean from his sleep. He sat up, a bit startled by the noise, and squinted his eyes at the harsh morning light shining straight in his eyes. Does Sam not have blinds or something?

''Shit,'' slipped a feminine voice.

Dean rubbed his eyes, adjusting to the change of light and glanced around, catching the redhead from last night standing at the 'kitchen' area of Sam's appartement. She was wearing one of Sam's old tee shirt, her long hair cascading down her back. Dean bit down him bottom lip.

''Everything okay?'' he asked, trying to see what happened.

''Yes!'' responded a feminine voice. ''I just dropped and broke a plate. It's nothing.'' She bent down to clean her mess, using a towel to pick up the broken pieces.

Humming, Dean stretched his arms over his head, his back aching from Sam's raggedy couch, and stood. He should get a new one, this one sucks.

''Sorry for waking you,'' she apologized, running a hand through her hair, tucking a piece behind her ear in slight embarassement. ''I was trying to make coffee and...I don't know how it happened.''

''Apologies accepted if you tell me there's coffee left,'' Dean bargained with a sly grin.

The redhead stood and nodded at the coffee machine before throwing the broken pieces of plate in the trash. ''Lucky for you, there's enough left for a cup.''

Picking up a cup from Sam's perfectly neat cupboard, the blond poured the last of coffee, not bothering to rinse the empty carafe. Sam will get on his back about it next time he'll use it, but it's not like Dean cared.

''I'm Juliet,'' the girl introduced, taking a seat in the desk chair as there wasn't any barstools or dinning table - not that there was any room for one. ''And you're Dean, Sam's brother.''

Dean furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. How did she know his name? He opened his mouth to ask, but she beat him.

''Sam left a note.'' She nodded at the sticky post-it on the top of the coffee maker.

Left for class. This is my brother, Dean. Don't hesitate to kick him out if he gives you trouble.

- Sam

Reading said note, Dean scoffed.

''I take it you're not on on Sam's good side,'' Juliet assumed, smiling behind her mug.

He shrugged, leaning against the small counter. ''Typical brothers.'' Dean took a long gulp of his black coffee, sighing at the burning feeling of the biter liquid as it passed through his throat. ''Sam and I are very different. Polar opposites, I'd say.''

Juliet looked him up and down and hummed affirmatively. ''I can see.''

At first glance, you wouldn't be able to tell they were brothers. Other than having very different facial features, their style was also contrasting. Although it remained along the lumberjack vibes - thanks to their father -, Dean was all about his fetish leather jacket and flannels while Sam was more of a polo and zip up hoodies person.

A phone went off, interrupting their small talk and Juliet checked the screen, knowing it was hers. She looked at the caller ID, face turning blank as she read the identifier. She let it ring.

''You don't pick up?''

She shook her head, biting her bottom lip, lowering her eyes on her bare thighs.

Dean didn't mean to pry, but he might have seen a guy's name on the screen. If he sticks to what Sam had told him last night, it must be her boyfriend - whom she got into a fight with.

''Want me to pick up?'' he suggested, lightening the mood, mild-joking.

''What?'' Juliet chuckled. ''No. I...I'll call him back later.''

Cocking an eyebrow, Dean gave her a look. ''Lie.''

Her blue eyes looked up and caught his green irises, holding an unsaid staring contest. As Dean stared into her eyes, he felt as if he could see through her like open doors. He could see how utterly unhappy she felt in all aspects of her life and it pulled at his heart.

Instead of admitting defeat, Juliet broke their stare and abruptly rose from her seat. ''Not that I don't like this morning chatter, but I have to get ready for work. My boss is going to have my head if I arrive late during lunch rush.''

It was almost eleven and, if she ran fast, she had a chance to get there in time.

She put her empty mug on the counter and skipped to the bed, retrieving some bundled clothes from a backpack at the end of Sam's bed.

''You work at a restaurant?''

''A diner,'' she corrected, fulmining though the bag for one more item before heading to the bathroom to change.

''Do you happen to serve pie at your diner?'' Dean asked, feeling hungry.

Knowing his Sam, he probably only had healthy snacks in his mini fridge and Dean was not about that life. He'll only eat lettuce when it's served with bacon and cheese...in a burger.

Peeking her head from the bathroom's door frame, Juliet flashed him a grin. ''Sure do.''

Just like that, Dean ended up sitting at some old fashioned diner's counter, eating a cherry pie with a scoop of ice cream, as recommended by the waitress.

''We don't usually serve it like that, but I'll make an exception for you,'' Juliet said, deposing the plate on the counter, right in front of Dean. ''After all, you saved me from getting fired.''

Dean smiled and thanked her before diving into the cherry goodness. God, he loves pie!

#dean winchester #dean winchester fic #reader x dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fic #this has been in my drafts for so long #it's the prequel of my christmas fic #I havent reread it

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idreamofplaid · 3 years

Text

Forget Apple Pie

Summary: Dean is living the apple pie life. The reader has a hard time accepting it, and is it what he really wants?

Characters: Dean x Reader; Lisa (barely); Sam mentioned

Word Count: 3344

A/N: I wrote this years ago in a Writing Challenge and Follower Celebration called The Seven Deadly Sins Challenge hosted by @waywardbaby & @aint-t-bovvered. My sin was envy and my prompt was “This will not turn out the way you think.” It remains one of my favorite things I’ve ever written.

It was everything you had ever wanted for him. The sight of Dean in an actual backyard with a fence, trees, and flower beds was something you had hoped for in the deepest, quietest part of your heart. But this was just wrong. You were sitting on his deck half heartedly sipping a beer. Dean was a few feet away from you standing at the bar-b-que grill flipping burgers. He’d given up wearing layers of clothes, like he had in his hunting days, opting now for t-shirts only.

The short sleeves hugged his biceps. Dean’s muscles were still prominent. He hadn’t gone soft, in spite of his civilian lifestyle. Your mind wandered back to the hunts you’d gone on with Dean. You’d had each other’s backs then. Now, the monsters were yours to face alone.

Lisa came out of the house carrying an empty tray. She walked over to Dean, whispered something to him, and kissed his cheek. He smiled down at her and lifted the meat from the grill piling it on the platter. You put your bottle of beer down a little too hard on the table and got up to go find somewhere you could get away from the cozy domestic scene and the happy neighbors. You heard one of those neighbors say to Lisa as you were leaving. “You’re so lucky to have a man like Dean. You’ve turned him into absolute husband material!”

The first escape hatch you found was the door leading into the garage. It was easy to picture Dean in here surrounded by tools and spending hours working on his Baby, keeping her in mint condition. Baby. There she was. Her silhouette was unmistakable under the tarp covering her. A tarp. She’d been forgotten. Dean didn’t drive his car anymore.

You walked toward her in a sort of daze. You’d been here to Dean’s new home only a handful of times, and you hadn’t entered the garage during any of those visits. This was the final blow. You ran your fingers up the edge of her windshield, and something inside you broke. Everything you’d held together for so long just cracked and shattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were standing in the same spot you’d stood in earlier in the day. You’d waited until almost midnight before picking the lock and slipping back into the garage. It had been surprisingly easy to get in here even after several shots of whiskey. Maybe Dean was going soft after all. You approached Baby again. This time running your hand along the edge of her roof. You whispered in the empty garage. “You don’t deserve this.”

You placed your hand on that hateful tarp and closed your fists around it clutching two large handfuls. You snatched the cover off revealing the Impala still gleaming and beautiful. “What are you doing?” Dean’s voice was low and steady. He had added another shirt over the clothes he had been wearing this afternoon.

Your mind was fairly fuzzy, but some things were perfectly clear. The wrongness of this situation was still glaring to you. “Why did you leave her here, Dean? Why did you forget about her?”

Dean walked closer to you and the car. He was staring at you intently. “I didn’t forget her.”

“Really? Do you come in and say ‘hi’ between backyard parties?” You teetered a little but managed to fling the tarp to the floor without falling on top of it.

Dean squinted his eyes. “What? Wha…”

“How long will it be before you get an SUV, maybe a minivan? Have you joined the PTA? A bowling league? Neighborhood watch?” Your eyes flashed at him. He just looked confused.

“What are you getting at? We talked about this. All the time. Having a normal life.”

Your voice lost a little of its edge. “Yeah. We talked about it.” In the silence that followed, whiskey inspired courage took hold of you. You moved close to Dean and touched your lips to his. His response was to put his hands on your waist and step back.

“Y/N…”

You rolled your neck to look up at the ceiling and shook your head. Your heart twisted, and you could feel the actual tightening in your chest. “You’re acting just like every man I’ve ever known. Chasing after the yoga instructor with her tight little ass.”

Tears gathered in your eyes. You swiped at them and carried on. “Come on, Dean. What’s wrong? Nobody has to know. We can do it right here in the garage. Just a little something on the side. Then you can go right back to Lisa and crawl into that bed you share with her. I bet it’s nice and big, pillows all over it, down comforter to match the sheets, and a big wooden headboard. So very married, that bed.”

You looked at Dean then, cocked your head to one side, and pointed your finger in the direction of his chest. “Tomorrow morning you can have a nice breakfast at your kitchen table with fresh squeezed orange juice and Belgian waffles with real fruit and pure maple syrup.” You dropped your finger, and your voice got soft. “I’ll be at one of those nondescript diners we used to go to, drinking cheap coffee. Maybe I’ll have scrambled eggs with soggy bacon, or if I’m feeling really festive, a stack of pancakes with some of that fake strawberry goo on top. While I eat I can enjoy watching all the people around me who aren’t alone.”

While you were talking, the tears had started to stream down your face. Dean stepped nearer to you and lay his hand on your arm. You shook it off. “Don’t touch me. Don’t you dare pity me, Dean Winchester!” You stumbled back and caught yourself on the Impala.

“Your life is so perfect now, isn’t it? Here you are in the suburbs with a mortgage. You don’t belong here, Dean. You’re playing house with a woman who doesn’t really know you. This will not turn out the way you think. You can’t forget about what matters to you, what…” You turned and braced yourself on Baby’s door. Your voice was broken and just above a whisper. “Just go back to thinking with your dick.”

Dean walked up behind you and put his hand on your shoulder. You let it stay. There was no fight left in you. “You’re drunk, Y/N. Get in the car. Let me take you home.”

You laughed. It was a humorless sound. “I don’t have a home.”

Dean turned you around gently to face him. His eyes held a soft expression. “Then let me take you to where you’re sleeping tonight.” You didn’t protest when he led you around to the other side of the car, opened the door, and settled you inside. You dozed on the ride to the motel where you were staying. When you got there, Dean helped you inside. That was the last thing you had a clear memory of until the next morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In spite of the curtains being drawn, the light seeping in around the edges was harsh to your eyes. You rubbed your fingers over your forehead. “How do you feel?” You opened your eyes at the sound of Dean’s voice. He was sitting next to you on top of the covers, legs stretched out, back against the headboard.

You pulled yourself up slowly, eyes blinking. “You stayed here all night?”

“Yeah.” He swung his legs off the side of the bed and disappeared in the direction of the bathroom. He reappeared in less than a minute carrying a glass of water and some aspirin. He sat down on the bed and handed you both. “Take those and drink all the water. All of it.”

You swallowed the pills and drank a few generous sips of water. “Shouldn’t you be home? Won’t Lisa wonder where you are?”

Dean took the glass from you and placed it on the bedside table. “I sent her a text. Told her not to worry. She probably thinks I’m with Sam.”

Bits and pieces of last night drifted through your mind, the things you’d said to Dean. Daylight had a way of making things embarrassing that seemed like the thing to do in the dark. You took a deep breath. “Dean, about what I said…”

Dean turned from you, made a fist on his lap, and grasped it with his other hand. “What you said was true. I have done a lot of thinking with my dick…but never with you. And I didn’t start last night.”

“Dean, I shouldn’t have…”

He turned back around, put his hand on your shoulder, and looked directly at you with his deep forest green eyes. “It would have been easy for me to accept your offer and take you right against the car or in the backseat if I slowed down long enough. I’ve wanted to for a long…long time. But you are not a quick roll in the sheets to me. You never have been. Know that.” Dean slipped his hand from your shoulder and looked away.

There was a hitch in your breathing, and absolutely no words would come to you. After a few seconds of heavy silence, Dean spoke. “I need to go. There are some things I need to take care of.” He reached for the notepad and pen on the table. He wrote something down, tore off the piece of paper and gave it to you. “Will you meet me there Wednesday night?” You looked at the address in your hand and nodded.

Dean crossed the room to the door. When he put his hand on the knob, he looked over his shoulder. “Y/N, you’re not alone.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More than once you wondered if you were in the right place. The long driveway meandered its way through the trees, big sturdy evergreens and oaks. There was a clearing at the end of the drive, and in that clearing sat a cabin situated by a lake. It was immediately clear to you it wasn’t a hunter’s cabin. It had rustic charm but looked way too polished to be the kind of place where a hunter would seek shelter.

You gathered your purse, dropped your car keys inside, and made your way to the front door. You lay your palm flat against your stomach, took a deep breath, and knocked. Dean opened the door wearing one of the plaid shirts you remembered so well. You tried not to notice how handsome he looked, but that was a fight you weren’t going to win. It would be easier to take down a vampire.

Dean smiled when he saw you. It was almost shy, just a slight curve of his lips. “Come on in.” He led you into a large open room. There was a kitchen to the right, the cabinets were made of light wood, and there was a window overlooking the lake. Just off the kitchen there was an open door which you assumed led to a bedroom. To the left, there was a living room area with cream colored furniture and a large rug in warm hues of copper, red, and gold. There was also a fireplace which you could imagine added to the coziness of the room during the winter months.

You searched for the right words and settled on “‘This is a nice place. Is it yours?”

Dean laughed a little. “No. Construction doesn’t pay that good. I rented it. It’s where I come when I want to get away, do some fishing, and think.”

You surveyed your surroundings again and quietly asked, “Did you bring Lisa here?”

Dean stumbled over his words. “No. Too far from civilization for her, and she hates fish.” He started to wave toward the sofa, his hand floundered in the air for a second, then he dropped it to his side. “Do you want something? A beer?”

Your thoughts returned to your last experience with alcohol. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“O…okay.” Dean motioned again toward the living area. You took a seat at the end of the sofa, and he sat in the chair to your side. He leaned over, elbows on his knees. “Look…um…” He sat up, back against the chair, then leaned forward again. “Something happened to me, Y/N.”

Dean rubbed his hand across his mouth then stared off into space like he was searching for what he wanted to say. “ I mean you. You happened.” His eyes sought yours; and there was a calmness in them, a certain kind of peace. “The other night when I stayed with you I was awake most of the night thinking about what you said. The stuff about not belonging where I was. I did try to fit into that world. It was what Sam wanted me to do, so I did my damnedest to do it. I didn’t even fire a gun that entire year. I didn’t scan the internet looking for a case. And sure it was normal, but there was this hole in me.”

Dean glanced down for a second and ran his tongue over his bottom lip before looking right back into your eyes. “You filled that. I know you were drunk and you don’t remember, but I do. You curled into my side and put your head against my shoulder. I held you while you slept. What I felt…I just wanted to protect you from anything that would ever hurt you, but the main thing that had hurt you was me.” His eyes were pleading with you to understand, to forgive him, to believe in him again like you once had, to trust him. “I thought I was still there for you. I didn’t know…I’m sorry.”

You looked away, your eyes landing on the wrought iron fire grate. While you stared your mouth fell open a little, and you closed it back. “Dean…I…” You looked back to him; he hadn’t taken his eyes from you. “What about Lisa?”

“There is no Lisa. The whole time I was with her I never felt anything like I did when I was holding you.” He paused. I ended it. I moved out, Y/N. I moved out because I love you.” Tears were shining in Dean’s eyes. He had shed so many tears because someone or something had died, but this time it was because something was alive. The same thing was living in you.

You reached for him. “Dean, why are you so far away?” He moved to sit beside you, and you wrapped your arms around each other. Dean held you to him like you were the air he needed to breathe to live. His hand cradled the back of your head, and he buried his face in your hair. You held each other until time ceased to exist. You’d been in that spot forever, and no time had passed at all.

When Dean finally moved, it was to take your face in his hands and kiss you. That awkward first kiss in the garage was forgotten; this was the one that mattered. He eased his tongue into your mouth claiming you with a gentleness only love could inspire. You held onto him through the kiss, and when he pulled away you opened your eyes. Your breathing had gotten shallow with the sweet intensity of that kiss. You brushed your fingers through his hair. “I love you too, Dean. I didn’t think you wanted to hear that from me.”

Dean stood and lifted you into his arms. He carried you into the bedroom and lay you down on top of the bed. He pulled off his shoes and socks before lying down on top of you. He started kissing you in the hollow of your neck, made his way up to your ear and back to your collarbone. You moaned releasing a little of your pent up need for him. You pushed at his shirt trying to get it over his shoulders. He finished taking it off, and it fell somewhere on the bed behind him.

Dean’s lips sought yours again. This time his kiss was more insistent. Your hands slid under the back of his t-shirt touching the warmth of his skin. The weight of him on top of you made you feel so safe, made you feel so cared for. The taste of him was so comforting and stirred every passion in you. The sound of his moans while he kissed you ignited all the emotions you’d pushed down and denied. Everything about what was happening overwhelmed your senses, and you started to cry.

Dean stopped, and his eyes roamed over your face. “Y/N? What is it?”

The tears were still falling down your face. You placed your hand on his cheek. “Will you just hold me for a minute?” He rolled a little to the side and circled his arms around you. It was hard for you to catch your breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Shhh. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Dean kissed the side of your head and whispered to you. “I’m here, Sweetheart. I’m right here. I love you. It’s okay.”

He kept whispering the same things to you over and over. His voice was soothing, and it calmed you down. Once your tears stopped, you kissed him without holding anything back. You let go of the loneliness you’d felt without him, the torment of the nights you’d known he was with another woman, and the anguish you’d felt believing he’d never know how much you loved him. You pulled and tore at his t-shirt practically ripping it off him. “Dean, make me forget the last year. Please make me forget.”

He discarded the rest of his clothes and took yours off slowly, taking the time to kiss every spot of your exposed skin as he did. Dean kissed your shoulders, stomach, hips, and thighs. He kissed each of your fingers and along the curve of your breasts sucking each nipple into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue until you were calling his name. He entwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand while he kissed a line down your jaw, lingered over your mouth with deep kisses full of desire, and moved up the other side.

He let go of your hand to move his own between your legs. Dean glided his fingers through your folds feeling how wet you already were for him. A whimper escaped your mouth. “Dean. Please.” You felt the tip of his length touch your opening. When you felt him push into you, your eyes locked on his. “I love you.”

His thrusts were slow and rolling at first. The feel of him stretching you made you gasp. And every sound you made, he answered with one of his own. As his thrusts became faster and deeper, the sounds gave way to your name. “Y/N. Y/N. Y/N.” He was so beautiful. His face held a look of totally focused bliss. His full lips mouthed your name without a sound right before he yelled your name with one final deep thrust and came inside you. His hot release filled your womb. Your walls tightened around him with your own climax, and Dean kept coming shooting rope after rope of his seed into you. Dean rolled off your body and lay on his side next to you catching his breath. He was still panting when he pulled you close to him. “I promise you I won’t do anything to mess this up. I will make you forget. I’ll do everything to make you happy, and I’ll never hurt you like that again.”

You kissed his shoulder wanting to hold this moment forever before you spoke. “What about a home? You had a home.”

Dean kissed you slowly, deliberately. Then he pushed your hair back from your face. “I have a home. My home is with you.”

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @onethirstyunicorn @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @asthesunwentdown @vulgar-library @petitgateau911 @thinkinghardhardlythinking

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967 @sgarrett49 @wingedcatninja @coffee-obsessed-writer @adoptdontshoppets @ellewritesfix05 @weepingwillowphoenix

#dean angst #dean smut #dean fluff #dean x reader #dean oneshot

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real-fanta-sea · 3 years

Note

Hello!!💚😊 do you still write kiss requests?? For Trevor/Mike ship and can I request something for 'bury the hatchet' mission with 11 or 57 number? I really love to see how Trevor saves Michael so😍😱

Thank you!💗

Hi sweetie! I'm sorry it took me so long, but it's finally here! Find it under "keep reading". If you prefer AO3, click here to read the fic. tw mentions of violence, kissing, kinky old men

"Get the boyfriend!"

"The WHAT?" Michael huffed out, along with a small puff of fog, as he crouched behind a thumb stone that felt too small to shield him. Of all things, why would they think they were dating? Like, that were the signs? Can't two guys share a trailer, a bed, a shower, a coffee mug, cigarettes, whiskey bottles and take-out receipts without arising suspicion? Can't two consenting adults watch each other read a porn magazine while relieving stress? Is it a sign of marital status to carry someone over a threshold while high on... whatever was Trevor high on? Michael cringed inwardly as a bullet grazed the top of the stone and made the falling snowflakes find refuge on the back of his neck. There was no time to mull that over. The crunch of footsteps and angry commands closed in, and he had to act fast.

He did the math frantically. His pistol still had 16 bullets ready to be planted into the brains of whoever he aimed at. There was another full magazine in his jacket pocket. Good. Michael peered above the top of the stone, now chipped into a monstrous row of teeth. The silence has been ruptured by the sound of breaks. Judging by the urgent stomping, there were far more than 33 men to bury that night. Michael ducked and ran towards a statue of an angel reclining over another piece of stone, big enough to hide him under its sorrowful wings. Finally able to stretch out, he took a deep breath and cracked his neck. He remembered the last time he had to fight off so many people and cursed when he shot a look back towards Brad's grave. At that time, there was no blanket and a cup of hot coffee waiting for him. At that time, dance macabre was all too real for comfort. But it was not a time to die; he convinced himself. Not in the freezy shithole called North Yankton. Not without a fight.

Just when he peered over the side of the sculpture, the world around him slowed down into a strange state of blue trance. He shot four men in a matter of seconds, retreated to his cover, and resurfaced again behind a different piece of stone. All he could feel was a stinging sensation on his face as he collapsed with snowflakes, a soft crunch of virgin snow below his feet mixed with the recoil of the gun in his hand, going off in time with the rhythm of his heart. He wouldn't have minded if the state of focus and tranquillity remained his primary state of being. To be faster than others, not feeling the bullets licking skin and flesh off of his body, killing without remorse - he missed such balance in his retired life.

Not many voices filled the graveyard when Michael finally threw his pistol away and snatched a gun from a random unlucky henchman whose blood was rapidly cooling on the ground. The relative silence unnerved him. The math didn't add up, and even when he cracked his neck again to relieve some of the pressure, the popping sound didn't fill the space enough to be comfortable again. Only when he ascended from the aisle, ducking, eyes darting all over the dark place, he noticed how fast he was breathing and that his hands were shaking.

Fuck it, he thought to himself, that one extra burger, coke and pizza every now and then, when he couldn't sleep, did hurt after all. Maybe Mandy was right to nag at him for smoking too. Before he could make an oath to himself to start exercising once he got away from the situation. Before he could even turn around in awe, the bushes behind his back rustled and gave birth to a furious Chinese man. The newborn didn't spare a second to hit the back of Michael's head with something Mike later identified as the butt of his gun and knocked the dumbfounded Michael unconscious.

It didn't take long for Michael to wake up, but the world was swirling around him into a smudged black-eye blue mush, and it reeked of puke. There was a horrible echo of voices nagging in his throbbing head, and it took a lot of him to recognize two twitching shadows dragging him through the muddy snow. For a split second, he felt weightless as the shadows threw him inside a gaping black space and the thunder of the van door being shut made him shriek in pain.

For what felt like an eternity, his existence was reduced to watching a streak of orange light running towards his chest and vanishing before it reached his head. Michael scrutinized the small cut out in the wall that divided his dark cell and the cockpit of the van and marvelled at the sounds emerging with every blink of the orange light. The slight rocking of the vehicle only served to make him more nauseated in between his scattered thoughts. Why haven't they killed him was among the first coherent questions his brain was capable of producing. Why would they want him alive? The light blinked away rapidly and brought about the noise of radio static and two voices fighting over what frequency to tune in. Get the boyfriend. Why was the question coming back then?

Michael groaned as the deafening sound of Channel X pinned him to the ground again. Boyfriend. He recognized the music. He remembered. They thought Trevor would pay whatever price they demanded in exchange for his safety. A bitter chuckle escaped his lips, and he didn't try to stop it for a change. How they could still think that after witnessing their bickering at Brad's grave, Michael wasn't entirely sure. What he knew with paralyzing certainty was that no one was coming to save him, and it was Trevor's fault. In between the blinks of light and throbbing pain, his memories ran back to the moment Brad unknowingly shielded Trevor as it often did in the past ten years and wished once again Dave either pulled the trigger a second later or aimed for Michael's head.

He didn't know whether to be annoyed or thankful when screeching breaks interrupted his daydreaming session. Judging by the high-pitched angry Chinese, they either had some very unfortunate flat tyre, or they ran into trouble. Or, which was something Michael didn't want to think about, they arrived at their lair and discussed the best way to make a chop suey from his guts. He shifted slightly, shaking off the inappropriate thoughts his mind offered him. It did him no good to think about alternate universes where all his problems were gone, and he was roasting under Los Santos sun by his pool.

The sliding door opened, and Michael was immediately hit into the face with a sluggish white light and smell of iron. Just one glance at the tiles plastered all over the walls, hooks idly clinging in the draft, and he knew exactly where they were. A shiny tray with a handsaw grinned right back at him from the centre of silhouettes of men. Oh god, he was so screwed. So fucked over. He made a mental note to kick Trevor in the balls when... IF... he sees him again. A pair of hands grabbed his ankles and pulled him out of the car, his head bouncing off the ground when it hit ice-cold concrete. Michael shivered. Was it really all there was for him? Would the famous Michael Townley, the phantom of the north, end up minced into Flormart burgers? A curse escaped his lips when he imagined the limp, tasteless slice of pickle and an unnaturally orange slice of cheese tiredly melting on his flesh in someone's microwave. He could withstand any torture but that.

"Hey you, you are awake, aren't you?"

Michael winced inwardly and squinted his eyes against the bright light. "Oh, am I? I didn't know! Are you a doctor or something?"

There was a prompt leathern shoe planted into his face. Michael hissed upon contact, the smell of cheap shoe glue imprinting into his memory. So much for a well-meant, friendly sarcasm.

"Ok, I got it. I'll shut up."

"You better should, pig!" There were several snorts around him, obscured by the bright light. Michael's cheek throbbed. If he was a pig about to be made into bacon strips, he swore to take them with him. The guy who kicked him circled around like a shark.

"Now, tell me. Where does your boyfriend keep the drugs?"

Michael just snickered and shrugged as best as his tied arms allowed. The shadows stepped closer, towering above him. He felt another kick; this time, the shoe bit into his ribs, making him hiss.

"ANSWER!"

A pair of hands yanked him onto his knees. The floor crushed into them, a painful reminder he should have picked up yoga when his wife told him so.

"I DON'T KNOW!"

The sole of the shoe pushed into the middle of his back, stretching his muscles to their capacity. Michael's forehead was pearled with sweat. He could barely breathe. Any further, and he was sure he would throw up.

"Do you think we are stupid?"

The pressure worsened. Michael gasped for air.

"We've seen him carry you over the threshold, and we know from a reliable source you share the bed with him,"

A picture of Ron shaking in the middle of a hostile office, surrounded by the same shadows, flashed through Michael's mind before he blinked it away. Another mental note was taken. Kick Ron's balls right after kicking Trevor's.

"AND YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO CLAIM YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHERE HE KEEPS HIS ASSETS WHEN WE KNOW YOU SQUAT ON HIS DICK EVERY NIGHT???"

"Believe it or not," Michael gasped and tried to turn just enough to look the bastard who stepped on him in the eye, "I don't know anything. Oh, and it's not me who squats; I am more of the top kind of guy."

It occurred to Michael the Chinese guy who led the interrogation had a strange sense of symmetry because before he knew it, he had another pulsating bruise spread over the other side of his ribs. He wanted to think the remark was worth it, even though his body told him otherwise.

"Hang that fag on a hook - let's see if he remembers with more blood in his brain."

For a second, Michael panicked. There were too many hands grabbing and groping him, turning him, and he remembered how he, as a little boy watched spiders do just that with flies in their webs, both horrified and fascinated. He has always considered himself a spider in such situations. Oh, how the turntables! He now was the fly, and the spider was walking away.

"HEY, WAIT!"

The hands kept him floating in the air, and the man stopped in his path, turning around.

"Hm? What is it?"

Michael's eyes rounded, even though he desperately tried to fight the trepidation. "You are terribly wrong about this. I am not his boyfriend, just an acquaintance. I have no idea how you guys are affiliated, but whatever this is about, it all runs down to money, right?"

The man folded his arms on his chest slowly, visibly taking pride in Michael's panic, but his thin lips kept shut.

"I'll pay you if you release me. Generous money, actually. That's what you guys want, right? That's what everybody wants."

The man took a few steps closer, right under one of the beaming tube lights. Michael gulped when he saw the grin on his handsome face. It took him a surprisingly low effort to come close to Michael and grab his jaw in a vice grip.

"Have your whining ever worked on anyone?"

Michael shook his head ever so slightly. He got a shark-like grin in response.

"What we want is to know where your lover, Trevor Phillips, keeps his merchandise and take what is contractually, thus rightfully ours. Tell us, and maybe we will let you go."

His eyes were as black as Trevor's when Michael last saw them, yet there was no shadow of affection in these. The man who looked at him was by all means already dead inside. The hand slipped away from his jaw, but Michael could still feel where his new friend left purple imprints.

"I thought so. Never mind, after the night spent upside down, I hope your point of view will change. HANG HIM!"

All of a sudden, there was a roar of an engine from somewhere above. Michael tried to locate the sound, but it glided away, much to his captors' disdain. There was a cacophony of stomping and foreign words bouncing off the walls, mixing in with the cry of sliding door and hum of the engine coming back.

"HEY!"

His voice was too weak against the noise. No one noticed him twitching; no one cared he was still there.

"HEY, MOTHERFUCKERS, WHAT'S GOING ON!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" was the answer from one of the men, along with a sting of a gunstock on his eye. Michael didn't need answers anymore, though, as the barking of shots and cries of mowed down men crept through the open door. Not so silently, he cursed Trevor for dragging him right into the middle of mafia wars, something he had no desire to see up close. Leaving him in the graveyard alone with a mob? One kick in the balls. Letting them kidnap him and hang him like a piece of ham? Two kicks in the balls. Letting the mafia kill him in a shoot out? Thousands of years of haunting Trevor and another kick in the balls as soon as they both reincarnate. Gunshots from outside closed in on him.

Michael tried to break free from the ropes but only managed to swing back and forth.

"Oh FUCK, I'm going to KILL HIM! YOU'RE SO DEAD, TREVOR!"

"MICHAEL!"

At first, Michael thought he was hearing things. In his state of panic, his brain couldn't get a grip of how the hell Trevor knew where to find him, let alone come and rescue him after he almost shot him. Then he thought that some kind of vessel must have busted in his head, for the familiar voice was accompanied by an even more familiar tall outline topped by a crown of ruffled dark brown hair. He couldn't help but blink rapidly a couple of times, dumbfounded in the middle of the slaughterhouse.

"JESUS, MIKEY!!!"

There were rushed steps, a sound of a gun falling to the ground, followed by two trembling hands cupping his face. Michael closed his eyes and relied on other senses to confirm his suspicion. First, there was a smell of late-night coffees, morning cigarettes, diesel fuel and cheap soap he bought for Trevor not so long ago. Second, there were two big hands, fingers brushing around the edges of his bruises in a way they did years ago when they both were different people, but somehow they did remember how to soothe him. Third, there was a deep-set voice trembling with worry whispering his name. And finally, when Michael opened his eyes again, there were the amber eyes, glazed, terrified and hurt. There was no doubt anymore. Trevor came back for him.

"Oh god, I was so fucking afraid!"

Michael couldn't keep angry when faced with the first shy tears welling in Trevor's eyes, but his ability to speak left him as they fell down and disappeared into the blackness of Trevor's shirt. So instead, he let Trevor's hands caress him, oddly at peace with the gentle touch on his face.

"To think I almost lost you again!" Trevor bit his lip. Something about the droplet of blood blooming under his teeth left Michael breathless. "I was so angry, infuriated much, yes, but then I imagined you laying there with Brad and..."

Trevor gazed into Michael's eyes with such urgency it immediately reminded him of their first kill. The fear mixed in with the red gleam in his eyes, the sense of irreparable, coming back from the past to haunt them. Lost in thought, Michael didn't register the swift movement right in front of him and was caught by surprise by a feeling of having his lips pressed against Trevor's.

They were hot, trembling, and tasted of cigarettes and blood, a mixture Michael desperately tried to forget about. Where they first gently touched his, as if they couldn't believe he was still alive and well, they pressed harder in mere seconds, making Michael's eyes flutter shut. It was difficult for him to admit, but Trevor's lips were the only drug Michael craved for long and lonely ten years. For once, he let his nagging reason get hushed by the shy movement of Trevor's lips, and all the hatred slipped his mind momentarily.

At length, Trevor broke the kiss, and still holding onto Michael's cheeks, he gently propped his forehead against Michael's. Michael let him take a break, listening to his shallow breathing, and their thoughts were buzzing almost audibly where their skin touched.

"Oh god, to think I almost lost you..."

"It's ok, T; I'm still hanging on."

"Yeah, but what if I didn't turn around and follow that convoy? What if they killed you?"

"You could say I would hang around for a bit, and then they would kick me out."

Trevor raised his head and furrowed a bit. "What's that with you and emphasize on hanging?"

Michael raised eyebrows at him and waited till the realization would dawn on Trevor. It took three seconds for Trevor's eyes to round and his mouth to form a perfect 'o'.

"Oh, yeah, uh, I see. Wait a moment, sugar."

Michael's feelings on Trevor holding a knife were usually on the border between panic and deep fucking rooted urge to run for the hills. When Trevor approached him and swung it around his face, Michael was momentarily inclined to the second option, twitching nervously under the cold gleam of the knife. Trevor eyed him with palpable exhaustion.

"Stop wiggling goddammit, do you want to get cut?"

Michael pouted at him.

"Hey, don't give me THAT face, pork chop! It wasn't MY idea to tie you up and hook you here!"

Trevor's knife slowly cut through ropes, murmuring as it bit through thick threads. The very tip brushed against Michael's leg, leaving goosebumps in the wake of its cold touch.

"But I have to say this is kinda hot, eh?" Trevor's grin was back, the brightest light in the room. "How about we try it again when we get back home?"

"What the FUCK are you talking about, Trevor?"

Trevor leant in, still grinning, his knife gliding against Michael's waist.

"I mean, I will send Patricia shopping,"

The knife dipped lower, slipping under Michael's shirt. He gasped, inwardly cursing for giving Trevor the tiniest bit of gratification.

"then I'll take some nice silk rope,"

The dull side of the blade ran through chest hair lush between trembling peaks of his nipples.

"tie you up and make some sweet, sweet love to you, cupcake!"

Trevor's lips were so close, his breath on Michael's lips again, who was petrified with anticipation. His heart hammered against the patch of goosebumps on his chest, and if the last bit of rope didn't snap and let him slide off the hook, Michael would have leaned in himself and stole that kiss. But, instead of the sweet release, he was sent to the cold ground head first, folding like a rag doll upon impact.

Not only Michael sustained another hit on his head, swearing and kicking around, not unlike the turtle Amanda bought for the kids and that he and Jimmy used to torture by putting it on its back, laughing about the way it tried to turn over, but it was Trevor who was laughing his lungs out, folded in half. Michael tried to stab him with a menacing glare, but it didn't help in the slightest. Gathering the last shred of strength, Michael scraped to his feet and balling fists full of Trevor's jacket, he threw them both against deadly green tiles.

Trevor's laugh died out soon after the impact, but the grin remained despite Michael pinning him down. At first, Michael's intention was to beat him up, partially to let the frustration out, partially to get revenge for the stolen kiss, but he was taken aback when Trevor's hands closed over his fists and squeezed gently.

"Whatcha gonna do, Mikey?" Trevor uttered in an irresistibly husky voice that sent shivers of excitement to all the wrong places, "Beat me for saving your life?" Michael growled.

"You fucking..." but the words he wanted to say got sucked back into the vortex of emotion running free in his ribcage. No, beating wasn't what Michael's mind supplied him with when it came to what to do with Trevor. He could barely resist the vivid pictures of Trevor, hair running down his slender back, undressing in front of him, leaving marks on his neck and long scratches speaking volumes about how Michael liked to celebrate their victories. And then, on that day, Trevor was there. Older, but just as tempting, daring, enclosing Michael in the smell of both freedom and slavery with each exhale. Michael took a deep breath. He couldn't help but give in to the craving.

Trevor yelped when Michael crashed his lips with his so hard their teeth clinked together. That was the thrill he wanted to relive, and as soon as Trevor's hands rested against his lower back, pulling him closer, Michael surged deeper and dared to brush his tongue against Trevor's. The choked moan he managed to draw out fueled his fingers in their haste, letting go of fabric and instead bury themselves into Trevor's hair, pulling him closer. Trevor's skin could have combusted any second with the heat it emitted, and Michael couldn't resist yanking him closer, eager to get burned once again.

"Mikey... Jesus Christ!"

Trevor could barely breathe, so much Michael could tell by the heaving of chest caught between the wall and his own body. He was proud of the trembling in Trevor's touch, of shallow breaths and flushed cheeks right in front of him. He still got it.

"What?" Michael grinned impishly and let one of his hands slide down Trevor's back and squeeze him. Trevor yelped in surprise but didn't try to wriggle out of the embrace and even giggled when Michael let his hand rest there. Trevor leaned in closer, his breath sending shivers down Michael's spine as it touched his ear.

"Let's go home, cupcake."

#trikey #gta 5 #trevor philips #michael de santa #real_fanta_sea.fic #kiss prompts

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sillydg · 3 years

Text

Chapter seven: Prince Charming’ 101: Dating a Commoner

Book: The Royal Romance

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Drake Walker X MC (Riley Herreld)

Word count: 4900

Series Summary “What if”: Riley and Drake spent a passionate one-night stand together on the last night before the social season. The next day they find out the harsh truth of her being the new suitor in town and him being the handsome best friend of prince charming Liam… Are they going to write a fairytale of their own or will everything crash and burn?

The Masterlist

In this seventh episode: Liam and Drake have a heart-to-heart when Liam comes to Drake for advice. Maxwell gets excited about burger night. A/N: First of all, a very special thanks to @kachrisberry for sharing her thoughts with me and editing and most of all inspiring! Thank you! You’re amazing! A/N: Thank you for reading and staying with me during this series! Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist! A/N: Disclaimer: Characters and some dialogue owned by Pixelberry.

Episode Warnings: Language (Swearing and sexual terms), Implied sexual situations, Angst, longing.

Prince Charming’ 101: Dating a Commoner

"Well, I think we need to talk about Riley, Drake."

Drake closes the door behind them; "Of course, sit down."

Liam sits down on one of the comfy chairs, while Drake leans against the door tapping nervously with his heel against the wood.

"You okay there buddy?"

"Well, Li, to be honest, you must be really desperate to come to me for woman advice."

D: I know it’s unlikely, but please let that be why he’s here… Please!

“Yeah, well between you, Tarique and Maxwell...”

D: Thank God!

Drake snorts; “I can see how your options are limited, but given the fact that if one of the three of us needs lady advice, we would come to you. Are you sure that you don’t know the best thing to do?”

“In this case, I’m sure Drake. Besides, when did you ever come to me for woman advice? And as far as I recall, you’re doing pretty good with the ladies.”

“Oh God, serious? Let’s not pretend that a one night stand has anything to do with actually establishing a relationship here, Liam. Besides, you’ll be the first to know when I meet the right woman. It will be the moment when I ask you to hide in the bushes, during my first date with an earpiece in my ear to talk me through it.”

Liam chuckles, “are you sure you haven’t met the right girl though? Again, you looked really happy yesterday morning, and for crying out loud, the fact that the two of you actually slept together in your bed after is a big first. You usually make sure that she takes you back to her place, so that you can run after.

Look, I know you guys didn’t exchange numbers, but if you give me a name, I could always send Bastien in for a search? It might be nothing, but don’t you owe it at least to yourself to find out?”

“God Liam, when did this turn into a conversation about me? Just let it go, she was fun for a night and a morning, so me being happy was just me being satisfied. Besides breakfast was good and Maxwell seemed less annoying than other times, so let a man be happy for once?”

“Do you hear yourself, Drake? Breakfast was… okay but they were out of bacon, which usually is a big deal for you and Maxwell should’ve been more annoying in your books because of his constantly wiggling in his seat, moving his feet because being nervous about meeting Riley. He EVEN pulled you in a morning hug, before your first coffee without getting murdered right on the spot.” He chuckles, “At least let me send Bastien in to find her and get her phone number to add her to an emergency protocol for a stressed Drake when things threaten to get out of hand between you and Max.”

Drake rolls his eyes, “not to break your spirit Li, but I doubt she wants to be part of that kind of labor intensive program. It might be less time intensive to just banish Maxwell as soon as your King. Just throwing it in there… and if they ask why, you can tell them it’s a matter of national security, and I’ll live happily ever after…the end. So, now we’ve established that, let’s talk about your happy ending, the one where you actually came here for, like the fool you are.”

Liam laughs, “You know, there is something you’re not telling me about her, Drake… but fine. I’ll let it go. At least for now.”

D: Note to self, think of buying some smoke balls to disappear when this comes up again.

“Much appreciated. Now…” Drake starts to smirk, “can we finally get to the part where you tell me what got you so desperate to come to me for woman advice.”

“Well, how am I going to ask this without sounding like a complete asshole?”

“Better plan, why don’t you just ask it while sounding like a complete asshole?”

“Drake, how do you, you know, date in real life?”

“First off all, if that’s sounding like an asshole, I’ll better stop talking altogether. But dating in real life? Meaning…”

“Yeah, you know like…”

Drake grins, “us commoners? Damn Liam… you must really like her.”

D: For fuck sake…he must really, really like her to come to me with this. What the hell am I supposed to do?

Liam sighs, “Yesterday during the masquerade and after on what I think was our first date, she seemed so relaxed and herself. But today, she was tense, conflicted and all of the sudden she avoided sharing her feelings and thoughts with me, afraid to not be the embodiment of a perfect lady. I’m not sure what happened in between, but I just want her to be able to get back to the state of mind she was in the first night.” Liam falls silent, sunken in thought.

Drake sighs at Liam's words because he knows exactly what happened in between. Riley and him bumping into each other in front of the maze, the moments they shared today in the barn, in the private tent and at the pond. He swallows. But especially his decision to keep his and Riley’s night from Liam and refusing to talk about it, not only to Liam, but also to her.

D: Damnitt, maybe I need to talk to her about letting Liam in. He deserves to be happy, and clearly Riley is the best chance to actually achieve that in this real life horror movie that is court. Okay, I’m just going to tell her… tell her that it will not bother me, them flirting. Them touching. Them kissing, hell, that I wouldn’t even care walking into them having sex. And if I’m already busy lying to her, just tell her that it was just lust, just one night of fun, and that there is absolutely nothing worth exploring. That I just sleep in beds with every other woman all the time, hug them, touch them, comfort them, listen to their cute rambling without having the tendency to put myself down.

What the hell is happening to me. For god’s sake.

What if John is right… what if she’s making me happy to? What if she’s also my chance at happiness? Liam said it himself, of course without knowing it’s Riley we’re talking about, but don’t I owe it to myself to at least explore it. Maybe I should be talking about what happens if she’s not chosen this social season. Who am I kidding though… Of course she’s chosen… So I could ask what happens if she drops out of court… Or… if she would turn Liam down. God how can you think like that Drake? You just met her… what the hell is happening with me.

He gets disturbed from his thoughts as Liam breaks the silence, “I just want to comfort her, Drake, make her feel right at home. I want to get to know the real her and I want to let her get to know me, because I might have a chance at love and I’m not going to let that slip through my fingers without at least trying everything in my power.”

To be knowing is one thing, but to actually hear it from Liam’s mouth is another. D: Fuck… and there it is. Of course he will do everything in his power. And who can blame him? She’s perfect. His chance to escape all the royal bullshit from time to time. Someone to keep him grounded, making him feel loved and supported without judgement.

O God, what was I thinking? I almost kissed her, I touched her cheek, pulled her close… and worst of all, I got hope that she… that she might…oh hell, what does it matter. It needs to stop. And I’m going to help him, because he deserves it and she deserves a man like him. I know what he is trying to do here. I know what’s he scared of…

“It’s not only getting close to her is it? You’re also trying to avoid the fact that once she gets close to you, that she doesn’t run, like Leo’s mom did when it all became too much to handle at court.”

Liam nods, “yes, and to prevent that she needs all the support she can get. It came to my attention that one of the reasons Leo’s mom ran away was because she never felt dad would accept her for who she was. She became scared to share her thoughts with him, that he would realize he made a mistake by marrying her. She never felt worthy, Drake, and that’s toxic when you’re in a relationship with anyone but especially a king.

She never found the confidence to actually be herself at court and never found the support with the person who she needed it the most from. And I have to learn from that. Of course, I know that Riley has you and Max to count on, and I’m grateful for that but if I want to establish something real here, she needs to trust me too… I need her to be comfortable enough to share things with me, just like she did yesterday. So, I thought, I need to figure out a way to at least establish that trust in the next few days especially before we head to Lythikos. You know, before she enters the lion’s den with everything that comes with it.”

Drake falls silent at his words, as he recalls the horror in her eyes the moment he suggested to give Liam a call when he ran into her this afternoon while she was crying.

“Are you sure that she doesn’t need a little more time and space to adjust, Li? Yesterday might have been fun, but when reality of court kicks in, it can hit hard. So while she was carefree and open yesterday, today she has had to adjust to a lot and very quickly. Her conversation with the queen gave her quite the beating and to be honest not all the courtly ladies are welcoming her with open arms…

Don’t you think that pushing her to get close to you, like you’ve been trying to do all day and steering the two of you into a state of trust within just a few days, will only lead to the opposite of what you are trying to do?”

Liam frowns, “we’re not only talking about me wanting to date her anymore, are we? We are also talking about me trying to kiss her…”

D: YES! What? No… Fuck!

“Well, yeah maybe.”

“And why’s that bothering you, Drake?”

D: It’s not. Nope, it’s so not bothering me. You know, why would it bother me… For fucks sake, why does it bother me?

“Look Li, nothing is bothering me about you wanting to kiss her, ”

D: Yeah, liar. God, need to turn this conversation back to him, before I blow my fucking ass.

Drake sighs, “I’m just looking out for you bud, because I recall a conversation only a week ago, where you told me that you will do everything in your power to treat every lady the same. This meant not spending time with them outside of courtly events, no kissing and well, no sex. How did we go from that to me bumping into the two of you drunk, unattended and in the middle of the night? Also, interrupting two kisses today and well, you proposing to have a fucking jailbreak tonight.”

“Okay, that makes sense. I meant every word, but that was before I met her, Drake. At the time, I honestly thought it would be easy to treat everyone the same, simply because I never had any romantic feelings for any of the ladies at court and I’m absolutely 100% that I never will.

That was until I met Riley. She’s bubbly, warm, open minded and the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She breathes possibilities, and I would love to connect with her on every level. But believe me when I say, I will give her all the time and space she needs. After she rejected my third attempt, because I thought that the other kisses didn’t happen because you kept interrupting us, I made it clear that the ball is in her corner now. But honestly I don’t think it’s time she needs here Drake, it’s something else.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She rejected me with the words; ‘'I just don't want to hurt other people by overstepping boundaries with actions I can't undo.' It just doesn't make any sense, but I didn’t want to stress her out more by asking her about it, considering the day she has had and it sounded like a big thing resting on her shoulders.

But it hasn’t left my mind since, and I’ve come to the same conclusion over and over; it’s like she needs permission from someone, that she might hurt someone by kissing me… which would be weird right? Unless there might be someone else, but I recall her telling me that she felt like love is a lost cause and that she doesn’t do relationships, so who could it possibly be?”

Drake sighs at the words, very well knowing that those words are directed at him and only him.

D: Why would she think that she would hurt me by kissing him. That’s ridiculous right? Why would she even care about not hurting me? She’s here for him, not for me, she shouldn’t even care. But what do I say, what can I tell… God I hate lying. But I need to do it for him, for them. I hope he’ll understand.

He swallows, “Well, maybe the other ladies at court?”

Liam leans on his upper legs with his arms, leaning forward. “I’m not sure Drake, she did ask me if it’s right to kiss her if I don’t kiss the others, so it might as well be. I guess time will tell, or maybe she will tell me eventually, but in the meantime…” Liam smiles, “I guess I’m asking you to be my earpiece buddy. Because all women are a mystery for that matter, but this one, she seems to be an enigma.”

D: O God… I don’t want this, I can’t do this. But I have to. For him, for her, for them. Fuck me. Fuck this shit. You know what, if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do this the right way. Ohhh, you’ve asked for my help, now you’re going to get it.

Smirking he says, “fine…” and he moves towards his desk to lean on the edge, “well Liam, I guess I’m welcoming you to class ‘dating for prince charming’s… the commoner edition!’ And I suggest you pay good attention bud, since your happily ever after is depending on it.”

Liam laughs, “Oh God, I might have regrets already, you are enjoying this way too much…”

“Now, silence please, we’re in class, crown prince Liam. Now let’s take a look at the subject of our first lesson, the beautiful courtly lady Riley.” He grabs a poster with Riley’s face, and with the slogan ‘Vote for Riley, once a commoner just like you!’ on it off his desk and presents it. “In case you forgot who it was.”

“Not a chance, but that’s kind of disturbing, Drake.”

“Yeah, well just call her lucky that I was able to stop Maxwell from actually passing these out at the rally. He came to show them to me this morning and it took me two hours to talk him out of it. Never thought I would say this, but thank God for Bertrand, who pulled him away because they had to wake her up, leaving these behind in my room. That conversation was also the reason why my first morning coffee was on the rally itself. Or at least the one sip I had.” He sighs at the thought…

Liam chuckles at his sad face, “well, I’m seriously impressed, Drake. Seems like that New Yorker charm of that woman has still had this relaxing effect…”

Drake rolls his eyes, “So much for letting that go… just pay attention okay, because even in dating commoner land she’s quite the exception to the rule.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s just not… regular, not as a courtly lady, not as a commoner, I find her to be… unique. She doesn’t exactly draw in the lines, she is smart, witty, challenging and I bet she’s not one to have the bouquets of red roses, big boxes of luxury chocolates, 12 course dining or diamond rings on top of her list. She strikes me more like the kind of woman who enjoys chicken wings in bars, playing pool all night, maybe pizza and beers in front of the tv, you know things like that…simple, everyday things. You know, the type that says, ‘it doesn’t matter what we are doing or where we are going, it’s the company that makes it special.”

He chuckles, “Well, I guess that’s why the two of you seem to connect very well, right?”

Drake feels the guilt rising in his chest, and he clears his throat, “well, if connecting well means her not directly running at my grumpy mood, then my answer is yes.”

Liam snorts, “God, high bar there Drake…”

“I think my ‘so called high bar’ says more about the other woman at court than about me, Liam, because I’m nothing but a delight when I’m grumpy.”

“Holy heavens, Maxwell is right. You are making jokes now.”

Drake rolls his eyes, “what I’m trying to say here is that you actually made a step in the right direction to ask her out to eat burgers in the bar. Look, Hana told Riley that she’s going to stay in tonight, so if you want Max and I can skip it too? I mean usually if two other people join on a date, it’s another couple.” “No, you’re my earpiece remember! And you know what, just pretend to be on a double date with Max… he will absolutely love that.”

“Oh God, don’t give him any ideas Liam, for crying out loud. Now, quickly moving on. We are heading towards your room to pick out something casual and I will give you some pointers on the way over there.”

“Drake… I appreciate the thought but do you actually realize that my closet isn’t filled with twenty jean overshirts accompanied by the same amount of matching white shirts to ‘choose’ from?”

D: Note to self, ask Maxwell on a shopping trip, but hell no I’m letting Liam get away with this.

Drake rolls his eyes, “wow! Okay, just for future references, that’s actually how an asshole sounds like, Li!

God, what is it with you royals, always mixing up a simple thank you with an insult.

First of all, I doubt that you have a lot to choose from when it comes to the casual area, so I think we will manage, and second, Maxwell is meeting us later, so if we really fuck this up, we actually have a backup. So does this answer satisfy you, your highness?”

Liam smiles and stands up, clasping Drake’s shoulders, “Thank you bud.”

“Now, was that so hard?” Drake moves up with him, “and you know what, I will try to talk to her about what she said, alright? If it is on her shoulders then it may be helpful not to wait, but to actually figure it out.”

“You’re the best of buds, Drake. Thank you,” and he pulls him into a big hug. Drake swallows.

D: God, if you only knew, bud.

“Now come on, let’s get you out of these clothes, Li.”

They walk through the door and Liam laughs “Well okay, but next time, you buy me dinner first Drake.”

After half an hour, Drake and Liam set out of Liam’s bedroom.

Maxwell turns around the corner with a small carton box in his hand, “looking sharp, Liam, who knew that I had competition on fashion-profession? Wanna do Riley too, Drake?”

D: Definitely no objection here to do that again… fuck, I mean, no I don’t.

Drake turns completely red and clears his throat. “That won’t be necessary, Maxwell, because this was literally the only casual outfit in his closet, cards were still on it, so you might want to take this one shopping for more tomorrow Max. And well, I might tag along since someone not so subtly mentioned about my wide variety in my closet.” He glances side ways to Liam.

“Okay, I’m going to give Bastien a call, Drake. Because the only way Maxwell is going to survive an actual shopping trip with you is having him around for emergency bangs, both before and during.”

“You know what Li, you are right. Change of plans, I’m going to drink whiskey in my favorite bar and Maxwell, I will give you money to just buy stuff for me. How’s that for a solution.”

Maxwell squeaks excitedly and turns on his heels, when Drake grabs him at the collar. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“O God, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say those words Drake. I’ve been dreaming to give your closet a proper make over ever since I met you and you were wearing well… this but only a lot of sizes smaller. I made a two hundred page scrapbook over the years that I was going to get, before you well, stopped me.”

Liam and Drake just blink in unison at the way too excited Maxwell.

“A two hundred page scrapbook? Okaaaay, that’s not disturbing at all…”

Liam chuckles, “Max, I don’t think we have time for that right now, although I think Drake here appreciates the effort,” and he clasps the shoulder of his still frozen best friend.

Drake looks down and murmurs, “is this outfit really that bad?”

D: I mean, she picked me up in this, so how bad could it really be?

“It occasionally pops up in my nightmares Drake, so…”

“Okay Max, if you are actually dreaming about my outfits, maybe Liam should be focusing on getting you a lover instead of me. So please tell me where the scrapbook is…” Maxwell squeaks once again excitedly… “OMG, you’re going to love it, Drake, you know I always thought that earthy colors are going to bring out your eyes and…” “FOR the love of God! Not to study it, but to burn it Max, what the hell is wrong with you? Now, can we just drop this highly disturbing conversation about what I wear and just focus on you taking Liam shopping for some casual clothing?”

Maxwell’s face suddenly turns completely dark, glaring at Drake, “if you ever dare to touch that scrapbook to burn it Drake, so help me God. I will burn all your clothes and fill your closet with unpractical slim fit suits AND replace your sneakers with the most uncomfortable stylish and weirdly printed shoes one could ever think of.”

Drake and Liam, once again stare at Maxwell in unison, not sure if they ever heard him threaten anyone or anything in his life, not even sure if he is serious, but certainly not daring to laugh to find out about it. Maxwell composes himself and a big smile appears on his face, “now we’ve established that, I absolutely would love to take you shopping Liam, but don’t you have like over a hundred of the finest tailored three piece suits in your closets? Can you tell me why you would need casual clothing while we just started the social season, going from one courtly event into another?”

Liam smiles broadly and holds up a list with dates planned over the next week, “I don’t think I can appear at a date to a…” and he looks at the list, “game hall in a tailored three piece suit right?”

Maxwell steps forward and takes a look, “now who exactly are you planning on taking on these ‘Drake’s favorite things to do’ list?”

“The same woman, who he’s taking out for burgers and who you bought that box of chocolates for Maxwell.”

Maxwell turns completely red out of excitement and starts to wiggle in place, “you’re taking Riley on these dates Liam? But that’s amazing. O God, but what do I tell Betrand? He has some extra curriculums planned for her this week, ohh who cares, I’ll figure it out, this is sooooooo exciting.”

Liam chuckles, “thanks Max, it’s good to have you in my corner. But Drake didn’t you just say that she’s not the chocolate kind of girl?”

“I did, but these are not just any chocolates Liam.” He opens the box, revealing three perfect replicas of small booze bottles, “she’s going to love these. The filling matches the bottle, so chocolates, but done differently.”

Liam blinks at the chocolates, “these are amazing Drake, how can I… what… I’m sorry to ask but what’s gotten into you? The date list, you wanting a closet upgrade and now these special chocolates?”

“Yeah, Yeah. Let’s not make a big deal out of this, alright? I just figured you didn’t want to show up empty handed tonight when you are picking her up.”

Maxwell beams, “yes, I’m sooooo excited for our double date, Liam, it’s been ages since Drake and I have been on a proper date night.” Drake frowns, “double date? Did you text him this idea, Liam?”

“Nope, it wasn’t me.”

“Nah, it was Riley, she texted me that Hana was not coming, so that tonight was the perfect opportunity for a double date.”

“So while I’m here planning her best week ever, she is going to ruin my evening by planting these kinds of ideas in your head?”

D: God the things I do for that woman.

Maxwell shrugs, “ohh come on Drake, it’s going to be fun! Although you could have dressed up a little bit more, look at all the trouble Liam is going through for Riles.”

He draws in a sharp breath, “something tells me this is going to be a long night.”

“Okay, before people, and by that I mean Max, gets seriously hurt, let’s get going. She’ll probably be ready by now and that gives me time to talk a bit about my plans the next few days and to officially ask her out, I’ll meet you guys up front right?”

Drake hands him the box of chocolates, “absolutely, but first we walk you towards her door, come on.”

They arrive at the hallway with Riley’s door in it. Maxwell and Drake stand to wait at the corner as Liam moves towards the door. They both peek around the corner, and he knocks.

“You know Drake, you never buy me presents again…” Drake closes his eyes for one second.

D: I’m zen. There is no one more zen than I am.

“But all jokes aside Drake…”

“Does this mean that you’re going to stop with the whole double date thing?”

“Not a chance, but, what I wanted to say was, thank you! Because honestly, you’ve had Riley's back all day by being an amazing friend to her. And now helping Liam setting everything up with these amazing dates, chocolates and clothing, seriously, this could be the start of their beautiful love story and they might thank you in their wedding speech!”

D: Wedding speech…

He swallows, “Yeah, they just deserve both to be happy Max,” but his words didn’t come out as sure as he hoped. Luckily Maxwell is so excited about all this, that he doesn’t even notice.

D: It’s what they deserve right? I mean… I just want them to be happy and if that’s together, that’s fine. That will make me happy too, right? Right?

“Drake, look… Drake,” Maxwell taps him on the shoulder, earning a glare from Drake. “WHAT, Max?”

He swallows and squeaks a bit, “she just opened the door…”

Drake peeks around the corner as his eyes fall on Riley as she greets Liam with a warm smile.

D: Ohh, that smile.

He gives her the chocolates and she lets Liam in, but seems to feel an extra pair of eyes staring at her. She takes a step in the hallway, their eyes meet and she gives him a broad smile, making him step into the hallway without thinking. She’s all dressed up, but not courtly dressed up. Her black skinny jeans are paired with some worn out sneakers, and she is wearing an extremely flattering tight tank top matched with a thin leathery jacket. Her loose brown hair falls playfully over her shoulders and her cherry red lips are the star of the show as he suddenly sees how Liam grabs her hands and pulls her playfully inside, she waves and disappears.

D: So if I only want for them to be happy… and if that actually will make me happy… Then why does it feel like I have been punched in the stomach right now?

He blinks.

D: What the hell did I just do?

And the door closes behind them.

Check the Masterlist for previous chapters

Chapter eight: Behind closed doors

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#choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #drake x mc #drake walker #choices royal romance #choices trr #choices the royal romance #trr fanfic #fanfic #the royal romance fanfic #the royal romance

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sunrisefairy · 4 years

Text

Little lies and lunch breaks

Paring: George Weasley x Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: George becomes a regular at the fast food joint Y/N works at.

Taglist: @hufflepuff5972 @inglourious-imagines message me if you would like to be added!

A/N: I started working at a vegan place so this may be loosely based on a fantasy I have about George coming in and falling in love with me *sigh*

George was aimlessly wandering around London on his break on a Tuesday afternoon when he stopped dead in his tracks. Across the road he noticed an angelic beauty walking on the footpath. Her hair was swept into a braid and tucked under a black cap and was dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans. The girl entered a shop, George figured it was a fast food place by a quick glance. Perfect, he thought he was on his lunch break so definitely could eat something.

He followed the path of the H/C girl and entered the store the bell dinging behind him, he was right, it was a fast food joint for sure and even better the pretty girl was behind the counter chatting to another girl who was sweeping the floor.

He stepped towards the counter and the girl who was apparently named Y/N according to her name tag greeted him.

“Afternoon! What can I get started for you?” Y/N smiled sweetly at George.

George was caught off guard, her voice floated through the air, it sounded so warm and comforting. “Uh, what’s good here? Have you got anything with chicken?”

The other worker sniggered behind Y/N who held a confused look on her face, George wondered if he said something offensive.

“Um, no. Nothing with chicken, this is a vegan fast food place.” Y/N gestured to the wall behind George which a giant mural with the words ‘The Green Vegan – delicious fresh food’ was written right and centre.

George’s checks heated up and he was certain they were the same shade as his hair right now. He coughed, “Yes! I knew that. I don’t even like chicken, I’m vegan actually. Was just trying to be funny.” He didn’t know why he said that a straight out lie, the bacon and eggs he had for breakfast that morning popped into his head.

The girl let out a chuckle, “well the ‘classic burger’ is a crowd favourite, it has a heap of greens topped with mayo and a chickpea patty. It’s really yummy if you wanna give that a go?”

George nodded hoping his red cheeks have gone unnoticed, he doubts it.

Y/N clicks some buttons on the register, “you want it in a meal? Comes with fries and a drink?”

Once again George nods slightly scared that he’ll blurt out another random lie, he pays for his food and stands off to the side.

A few moments later his order is being called out and he walks up to the counter to get it.

Y/N passes it over to him offering him a warm smile along with it, “here you go love, hope you enjoy it!”

George throws a quick thank you her way and strides out the store. Godric why is he such an idiot, Freds gonna pass out from laughter when he tells him about this later on at the shop. Why did he say he was vegan? He hates vegan food, thinks it tastes like grass.

~~~

George has actually become a regular at The Green Vegan. Not because of the food although he will admit it does taste pretty delicious but mainly because of the pretty girl that works there. He quickly found out that Y/N works every day except Wednesdays and Sundays, so naturally he visits the store everyday except those two, just to see her. Surprisingly he hasn’t let any other silly lies slip from his mouth and even made Y/N laugh a few times during conversation.

Fred had a field trip when he told him of the unfortunate situation hes gotten himself into. Fred thought it was the funniest thing he’s ever heard and taking it upon himself to ask George if he has any vegan recipes he wants to share. George has learnt to ignore Freds teasing.

“Alright Georgie, you can have your lunch break now,” Fred announces returning from his break “I had the best chicken sandwich at the store on the corner, almost bought you one but I remember you recent lifestyle change so thought better not tempt you.”

“Oh, shut it will you.”

Fred smirked, “what are you gonna do when you finally ask the girl out? Probably wouldn’t be smart taking her out to dinner.”

Again, George rolls his eyes at his brother and exits the store, heading to his new favourite place.

~~~

“Back again? What would you like today George?” Y/N calls out to him the moment he steps foot into the shop. George hums looking at the menu, he’s been getting something new each time he comes. “I’ll try the Caesar wrap today please Y/N”

Y/N gets started on making his wrap right away, she glances up at him “so how long have you been vegan for George?”

George’s face pales at the question, “um, maybe a few months. It’s uh pretty new.”

Y/N nods and smiles before concentrating back on the wrap. George takes the time to admire her. She has a little wrinkle between her brows when she’s concentrating, she also has a habit to bite on her bottom lip when she’s thinking too, George has noticed. His focus moves towards her hands, swiftly grabbing the ingredients. She’s wearing gloves but George can tell her hands are soft and delicate.

Before he can stop himself, he utters, “has anyone every told you you have really nice hands?”

Bloody hell, he really should duct tape his mouth shut when he’s around Y/N.

“Actually, yes I have been,” Y/N states with a giggle packing up George’s food. “by some old guy. Think he was trying to flirt but I definitely appreciate the compliment more coming from you.” She winks at him handing over his food.

George quickly grabs the brown paper bag and shoots a see ya later over his shoulder before hastily leaving the store, not wanting to embarrass himself even more.

~~~

He doesn’t get to see Y/N until a week later, having had to travel for a business trip. George was itching to get into the shop again to see Y/N, chatting to her had honestly become the highlight of his day.

He orders the onion rings today and 2 strawberry milkshakes, one for Fred.

“Here you go George! I hope you have a good day.” Y/N grins at him and begins tidying up behind the counter.

George gets halfway through the door before turning around, a wave of confidence flowing over him.

“Hey Y/N,” he swallows “forgive him if I’m being completely inappropriate but I was wondering if maybe one night I could take you out? Like on a date?” He holds his breath waiting for an answer.

He watches Y/N’s face carefully, he notices her cheeks flush a light shade of pink and she bites he lips slightly before nodding slowly. “Yeah, I’d really like that. I finish here at 5 maybe we can go out for dinner?”

George grins widely, “perfect!” he states a little too loudly. “I’ll be here to pick you up.” He turns to leave, again stopping and facing Y/N once more. “Um, you should probably know that I’m not actually vegan. I don’t know why I said that the first time I met you, guess I was just nervous around you.”

“That’s hilarious George,” Y/N lets out a hearty laugh, “it’s totally fine though, we don’t have to go to a vegan place tonight. I don’t mind.”

George smiles, “perfect, I’ll see you at 5.”

“Can’t wait.”

#George Weasley #George Weasley oneshot #George Weasley fluff #George Weasley imagine #George Weasley one shot #George Weasley fanfic #George Weasley fan fic #Fred and George #Fred Weasley #Fred Weasley oneshot #Fred Weasley imagine #Harry Potter #Harry Potter oneshot #HP oneshot #Harry Potter imagine

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fics-of-culture · 4 years

Text

Nightmares and Angels

Requested by anonymous

Summary: The littlest Winchester has been experiencing hallucinations and nightmares of her brothers covered in blood. Can a certain whiskey eyed angel come to the rescue?

Words: 2,123

Warnings: Blood, Hallucinations, Nightmares. Reader has PTSD. Possible misrepresentation of mental illness. (I personally don’t have many experiences with PTSD or hallucinations so take everything here with a grain of salt.)

It was late. And you found yourself milling around the bunker. Again. Trying to find anything to occupy your time with in order to avoid going back to your room. You were positive that if you went to bed you’d have nightmares. You’d been having them a lot recently. Along with some other... issues that you’d yet to address. Today had been especially difficult for you in that regard. Your older brother Dean had been in the kitchen making dinner when you had another one of your ‘attacks’ as you called them.

“You want bacon on your burger?” Dean turned away from the veggies he’d been chopping to face you. You were seated at the kitchen table, nose buried in a book and just enjoying your brother's company when he had asked. Being caught off guard by the question, you let out a little ‘huh?’ “The burger.” Dean repeated. “You want bacon on it or- Ah shit!” He exclaimed suddenly. You stood from your chair to check on your brother when you saw it. A steady trail of red streamed from his thumb onto the cutting board. Apparently Dean had nicked his finger while he was distracted. You froze in place. Images flashed rapidly before you as Dean grabbed a towel to stop the bleeding. You watched in horror as the blood seeped through the towel. Slowly, it continued to spread until it was running as a steady steam down his arm pooling around his shoes. You took an unsteady step back, priming yourself to run out the door when a pair of fingers snapped in front of you. Dean was staring at you with concern. Hand wrapped in a towel completely devoid of blood. “I said can you get me a bandaid?” Dean asked. Watching you curiously as you stood there. Shaking off your latest trance, you gave Dean a sharp nod before turning to locate your first aid kit.

It wasn’t always like this. Some days were just worse than others. You had gotten so accustomed to seeing your brothers steeped in blood that you had started to see it even when it wasn’t there. Your brothers didn’t know about this. No one did. And you intended to keep it that way. They always looked as though they had the weight of the world on their shoulders and you couldn't bear to stress them out more with your personal problems. You sighed as you wandered into the kitchen. It was empty now. Your brothers had gone to bed hours ago, meaning you could roam around freely without your brothers worrying about why you were up so late. Knowing you’d be awake for a while longer, you decided to brew some coffee. You were pouring yourself a steaming cup of coffee when you heard wings flap behind you.

“Is that for me? Oh sweetheart, you shouldn’t have.” Gabriel speaks in your ear as his arms wrap around you to pull the cup out of your hand. You roll your eyes as you turn to face him. You cross your arms as you stare at the angel who has been your best friend since he’d been ‘brought back to life’. A smug smirk graced his lips as he kept your beverage from you.

“Gabe, that drink does not have nearly enough sugar for it to be for you.” You sass him as you reach out to take your cup back, but he continues to withhold it from you.

“I’ll tell you what, you give me a little sugar right now and you’ll get this drink back.” You cross your arms and groan in annoyance as the mischievous angel taps a finger to his cheek. “Come on hon, one little kiss and I’ll stop buggin’ ya. Besides, I’ve been gone for weeks! Don’t you wanna welcome me home?” It is true that he had been gone for quite a while. He and Cas had been working overtime in heaven trying to keep the lights on. Uncrossing your arms, you sigh in mock defeat as you step closer to give your favorite angel a kiss on the cheek. He lets out a dramatic gasp as you give him a quick peck. You turn your face slightly to hide the blush spreading on your cheeks. If Gabriel notices your sudden bashfulness, he doesn’t say anything.

“You only get a kiss because I did miss you.” You mutter quietly. Gabe gives you a soft, genuine smile. “Now can I have my drink back?” You raise your arms and make little grabby motions with your hands as you wait for Gabe to give your drink back.

“Hell no!” He basically shouts, showing no concern for the other sleeping tenants of the bunker. He swiftly raises his right hand and snaps the coffee out of existence. Your arms fall to your sides as you regard your friend with a look of betrayal. You open your mouth to whine at him before being quickly cut off. “You have any idea what time it is, sugar? You don’t need coffee. You need sleep.”

“You promised you’d give it back.” You said, giving Gabriel your best pout. Maybe your patented Winchester puppy dog eyes would distract the angel from the lateness of the hour.

“Honey.” Gabriel’s voice was suddenly lacking that playful tone from before. “I know you and the rest of the mystery gang are used to burning the midnight oil, but you need to take care of yourself. Are you guys even on a case right now?”

“No.” You muttered quietly. “But!”

“But nothin’ sweetheart. You gotta go to bed. Unless there's something you’re not telling me?” Gabriel had suspected that something had been up with you for a while, but damn if you weren’t a tough cookie to crack. You just huffed out a little sigh before saying goodnight to Gabriel and heading to your room. You were certainly not interested in explaining your lack of sleep to Gabe. You figured that you could probably get away with loading up Netflix on your laptop and staying up a bit longer, but Gabe was right. You desperately needed sleep. Chuck knows you’d been lacking it for the past couple weeks. You resign yourself to your fate as you get ready for bed. Maybe with Gabe in the bunker, the dreams won’t be so bad you think to yourself as your eyes slide closed.

Sam was suddenly woken to the sound of your screams. His bedroom being situated directly across from yours gave him the benefit of being the first one to hear your destress. In less than a second, your brother sprung up from his bed, blankets violently tossed to the side as he rushed toward your room. Once he was in the hall, he shouted once for Dean, but didn’t linger to wait for him. Instead, Sam burst into your room, shotgun in hand. Expecting some sort of intruder, Sam was caught off guard when all he found was you screaming and writhing blindly on your mattress.

“Y/N!” Sam shouted your name as he rushed to your side. Jostling your shoulder in order to wake you, your brother watched in horror as your eyes opened suddenly, falling upon his face. Instead of his presence soothing you as he thought it would, you instead jerked away from his touch and let out a scream of what he could only describe as haunting despair. From your perspective, you weren’t seeing your sweet brother Sammy as you normally would. Instead, you watched as your brother’s face was covered in blood and contorted in anguish. Desperate to get away from this haunting image, you pulled away from his grasp and pinned yourself to the headboard of the bed. As far away from your concerned brother as possible. Vaguely you recognized that he was speaking to you, but you couldn’t pull away from your panic long enough to hear him. All you could do was stare at the blood pouring down his face, repeatedly jerking away from him each time he tried to touch you or otherwise get near you. A few moments later, you were curled into a ball on your bed when the door swung open once more. It was Dean. He stood there staring at you with a worried expression similar to Sam’s, apparently having heard the ruckus you’d made. But you couldn’t focus on that. All you could see was the copious amounts of blood dripping from what appeared to be a stab wound right where his heart was. Just like when Sam approached, you jerked away from Dean when he got near you. You were unable to do anything in this moment other than tremble and sob at the horrific images of your bloodied brothers before you. You truly tried to calm yourself, but nothing seemed to soothe you. And the presence of your brothers were just making your stress worse. You couldn’t get the picture of your blood soaked brothers out of your head. Subconsciously, you desperately cried out to the only being you thought might be able to save you. You didn’t even register the new presence in your room until you felt the bed dip. Your head jerked up, frantically searching for the new intruder when you saw Gabe. He wasn’t covered in blood or half dead. He was just your Gabriel. You let out a little cry of relief when you saw him. Instantly moving to crawl into his lap for comfort.

“Hey hon, what’s going on?” You hear him whisper as he wraps his arms around you. From your spot in his lap, you couldn’t see the confusion and worry on his face as he tried to figure out what was happening.

“I can’t- I can’t make them stop!” Your voice sounds pathetic to you as you speak frantically. Gabe runs his hand through his hair, not entirely sure what to do.

“What’re you talking about? What won’t stop?” His hand falls to your head and he lets his fingers card through your hair as you whimper into his chest.

“The hallucinations! I can’t make them go away.” With your head buried in his chest, you don’t see the grim look Gabriel sends your brothers. Your brothers turn to share a look as if to say ‘Did you know about this?’

“What’re you seeing?” He turns his attention back to you. He kept his voice gentle as he spoke to you, not wanting to spook you more than you already are.

“Sam and Dean. Covered in blood. Oh God make it stop.” The trickster was positive he felt his heart break when you said this. He knew you’d been having some sort of problem that you weren’t sharing with him, but he never imagined it was anything this severe. And according to the shocked looks on your brother’s faces, they hadn’t known either. He sucks in a breath and steadies himself, wanting to be confident for you.

“Look again.” He speaks calmly. And you pull away to look him in the eyes for the first time since he arrived. You let out a little ‘what?’ He’s patient as he speaks to you. “Look at your brothers again. It’ll be okay. I promise.” Hesitantly you do as he says. You turn your head to look at Sam and Dean as they stand helplessly in the corner of your room. Clearly unsure how to help you. To your shock, they looked completely normal. A little ruffled from getting out of bed so suddenly, but they didn’t have a speck of blood on them.

“Ho-how?” You can’t wrap your head around the sudden change.

“A little angel magic. As long as I’m here, you won’t have to worry about those pesky images.” You let out a little sob as you hugged him with renewed vigor. Gabe cuddled into bed with you and when you seemed calm enough, your brothers left the two of you alone. Dean was grumbling a bit about leaving his little sister alone with the trickster but Sam just shoved him out of the room. You were sure that they were going to have a long talk with you tomorrow, but for now they seemed content to just let you relax.

“Gabriel?” He let out a distracted ‘hmm?’ as his fingers continued to comb through your hair.

“Stay with me tonight?” You spoke so quietly that if Gabe hadn’t been an angel, he wasn’t sure he would’ve heard you.

“Anything for you, sweets.” The two of you made your way under the covers. You laid your head on Gabriel’s chest and slowly allowed yourself to succumb to sleep. Knowing that for the first time in months, you would be getting a peaceful sleep.

#spn #spn gabriel #gabriel #gabriel x reader #gabriel imagine #spn gabriel x reader #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural reader insert #reader insert #fanfic

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lexibugsblog · 4 years

Text

Sharing with Strangers

WARNINGS: N/A, cuddles and fluff

Arvin One Shot

This is my first fan fiction I've ever written so please be gentle :D

Arvin makes it to Cincinnati and gets dropped off at a diner

A red Volkswagen pulls up outside, a man in a baseball cap with a duffel bag throw over his shoulder steps out waving at the other man before he drives off. I look at the clock on the opposite side of the wall, 3:23 A.M. The bell chimes above the door as he strolls in, worn baseball cap still hiding his face.

“Hi, welcome in!” I regenerate my normal greeting. I grab my notepad and make my way over to him,

“What can I getcha’?”

“Just coffee.” He states quietly, glancing out at me from the corner of his eye. “Coming right up,” I notify him, giving him a smile. Once I prepare the coffee I bring it over to him, setting it down on a napkin. “Thank you,” he mutters, this time his head looks up for a split second. I turn to walk away, but he looked in need of some company and there was only one other guest, asleep at a corner booth towards the back of the diner, so I slide into the corner booth across from him. He finally looks up at me, mouth agape. “How long have you been on the road?” I inquire.

“How did you-” he takes off his cap, his mused hair adding to his disheveled appearance.

“You look like haven’t had a good meal or a good sleep in a minute,” I explain, he seems a bit taken back at this point, maybe insecure about how he looked, but he shouldn’t be, even worn to the bone he looked drop-dead handsome.

“So, are you running away from something or to it?”

“Take a guess,” he smiles playfully before taking a sip of his coffee. I laugh a little, lacing my fingers together on the table. I purse my lips, taking him in, his chocolate eyes watching me, awaiting my response. “Running away,”

“Why do you guess that?”

“Your eyes,” I explain, he laugh awkwardly breaking eye contact at that moment.” You have tired eyes, full of woe, not hope, at least not as much as someone who would be running to something. Also, you were hitchhiking, so it must have been abrupt and really bad whatever it is your running form.” His eyes then flicker back up at me for a moment, nearly brimming with tears. My heart sunk to my stomach, “I’m so sorry! I really didn’t mean to-” I begin apologizing profusely, getting up from the booth.

“No, no really it’s okay,” he gestures back to the booth,” Please stay.” I hesitate as he sniffles, running his hands over his face, pushing away any water that was on the verge of spilling out. “Please.” He says on last time before I take my seat across from him again. “I really am sorry.” I declare one last time. “It’s okay, really,” He assures me, “Its just been a long drive.” I nod, shifting in my seat, trying to break the uncomfortable silence without overstepping again.

“Where are you headed, if you don’t mind my asking.” I preface this time.

“I don’t know. The man that picked me up said he was headed here, so I’m here.”

“Where were you coming from?” he opened his mouth to speak, a name on the edge of his lips be he stopped himself, thinking on the answer, “A small town, on the other side of Ohio” I laugh softly to myself. He smiles back at me, eyebrow raised in confusion, “What? You don’t believe me?”

“Nothing,” I smile pushing my hair out of my face, “You just really have this whole ‘handsome mysterious stranger’ thing down pat. You show up at three in the morning to a 24/7 diner, ball cap shielding your face, duffel bag slung over your shoulder. Then when asked where you’re from, you give the vaguest answer a person could get.” He chuckles, once again running his hand through his hair, “You think I’m handsome?” he flirts halfheartedly. I let out a laugh, blush filling both our cheeks as he laughs along with me. He had a beautiful laugh, much lighter then he himself seemed to be. This time, even once our laughter died down, the silence didn’t seem as uncomfortable as before.

“Look,” I prompt, “how about I make you some food, on the house, I get off at five and we can go back to my place.” he seemed in awe of this offer, hell I was a bit in awe of my offering, but something about him seemed different. I’ve lived in this city my entire life, I had met a lot of people most of them questionable at best, but he had something about him that made him seem like a genuinely good person. “It’s not a lot but its a real bed, at least for the night.”

“I’d really appreciate that.” he finally answered after a beat.

“Okay,” I give him a nod and a smile before getting up from the booth to prepare him some burger and fries. Time ticked by quickly after he finished eating and I finished cleaning up it was nearly time to go. I finish packing up my sketchbook, and art supplies that had been laid out on the counter before he’d come in when Sarah finally comes in to relieve me. I grab my backpack before heading over to his booth to let him know we could go. “What’s your name by the way?” I ask as he slides out of the booth.

“Arvin, my names Arvin,” he states as he throws his duffel bag over his shoulder. “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet your Arvin.”

The walk back to my apartment was quiet, I began overthinking things. What if he was some crazy person, I sneak a glance at him, what if he murders me or something once we get back to my place. How could I even begin to politely retract my offer, he looks over at me a shy smile on his lips, as his hand tightens around the strap of his bag. Before I could say anything, we were at my apartment,

“This is it,” I tell him, as I begin fumbling for my keys. “Hey,” he stops me, “If you’re uncomfortable I can find a motel.” He gives me a sympathetic smile and once again my heart wrenches looking into his bloodshot eyes. He’s been through it, I don’t know exactly what it was but I could tell he needed a little human kindness.

“No, I’m not, just promise...promise you won’t, like, murder me or anything?” I propose, he chuckles sticking out his pinky finger, “I promise,” he says, as I wrap my pinky around his. We both smile inwardly as I finally find the apartment key. After walking up a couple flights of stairs, I open the door to my place, flicking on the lights, as we enter. I sit my things down on the small kitchen island, I shove my hands in the pockets of my bib, becoming a little insecure myself as he looked around. I hated the color of these walls, it must have once been a vibrant orange but over the years has become dull, the pale yellow overhead light not helping. The covers of my bed disheveled, I’d always meant to get into the habit of making it but I never did. He then sat his bag down, moving over to the large window the by the bed, he looked out it,

“I’m going to change real quick,” I inform him as I meddle through my closet for my pj’s “Feel free to make yourself at home.” I gesture to the whole one room of my apartment. I quickly change into a sweater, shorts, and some comfortable socks before exiting the bathroom only to find him staring at my painting sitting the easel.

“That’s not finished,” I explain, biting my thumbnail, watching him admire the unfinished painting of a naked woman.

“This is really good.” he compliments. It could be better. It isn’t until he turns around, I stop looking at all the imperfections of the painting and I actually look at him, no more jacket, baseball cap, or even shoes, he looked perfectly at home, as if he was made to be here, at this moment. I wished i could capture this image forever, it almost felt like a dream.

“Thank you,” I finally say, remembering he paid me a compliment just a moment ago. I shake my head of all the thoughts swirling around in my head as I begin to turn the bed down for him. “I’ll take the couch,” I say pulling the throw blanket off the back of it.

“Definitely not,” he states firmly.

“What?”

“I’ll take the couch, I’m the guest.”

“Which is exactly why you get the bed.”

“I’m not letting you-”

“Look,” I interrupt him for the second time tonight, “I promised you a bed to sleep in tonight, and that what you’re going to get,” I say firmly, he presses his lips together in defeat. “We could share?” my cheeks flushed at the thought, but with my back to him he was none the wiser.” I mean, if that’s okay, I don’t want to make you feel weird or anything, I just..” he begins stumbling over his words, causing a smile to pull on my lips. “Okay,” I say finally turning to him.

“Okay.” he agrees his lips pulled together in a tight smile. As he settles into bed I turn out the lights before joining him. At first, we both lay on our backs, neither of us saying anything. Eventually, I began to hear the patter of rain against the window, and his breathing became more shallow. I finally look over at him for a moment, the neon lights of the outside shining onto him, he really is beautiful, this is the last thought that passes through my mind before drifting off.

I wake up the next morning to the sound of a heartbeat thudding in my ear. As I come to I realize my leg is flung across his hips, and his arms are snaked around my body. Part of me felt like I should be freaking out, I only met him yesterday, but a big part of me couldn’t deny how natural and comforting this felt like this was how things were meant to be. Not long after he finally woke, realizing our position he quickly lifts his hands from my body, not all the way, just hovering above where they were.“Im not uncomfortable.” I simply say, and with that his hands return, tightening even. Yeah, this is good.

Once we finally get up from bed, he takes a quick shower I make us breakfast. He comes out of the bathroom in the same disheveled clothes from yesterday before sitting on a stool at the island. I set a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of him before taking a seat beside him with my own plate.”So, whats next?” I prompt. He takes a bit, thinking about the question for a moment. Selfishly I knew what I wanted his answer to be, but also I could tell he’d been on a long journey before he’d out into the stranger’s van that brought him to hear, and he had a long one left to go. He finally swallows and looks over at me, a boyish grin plastered onto his face, “I think I might stay here for a while if you’ll have me.” I toothy smile spread across my face, he may not be around for long, but I was more then happy to be part of his story, even if just for a little while.

#oneshot #arvin russel x reader #arvin russell #the devil all the time #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #tom holland #netflix #diner aesthetic #artchick

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ill-skillsgard · 4 years

Text

Bred For Blood - Part 19 - Promise-Promise

Title: Bred For Blood

Warning: 18+ - sex/mature language & themes/gun violence/substance abuse etc. *mentions of coma/unconsciousness, injuries, and sex in this part*

Characters: AU Axel Cluney, AU Ivar Lothbrok, AU Valter x OC

Description: A bright, young survivor meets an acid-gun slinging headhunter with a knack for melting faces and connections to a prodigal Utopia embedded in the heart of a deadly forest. Violence and passion incite a battle of fealty while betrayal nips at Zed’s heels.

Note: Sooo many feelings in this part, you guys. Next part will be the finale! My gosh, it’s actually coming. Stick around because it’s gonna be a doozy! Much love to all the readers who’ve waited patiently and shout out to any new readers who’ve taken the time to let me know their thoughts. I appreciate all the comments and reblogs forever! With that being said, please comment and reblog. It’d really make my day. XO

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Zed waited for Vee next to the window overlooking the vast green ocean of vegetation. The sliver of sun painted the sky aflush, rolling west in shades of violet. Pinprick stars perforated the melting spectrum, and the phantom moon showed its impatient face fully before the horizon swallowed all light. It was a soothing array of scenery, and Zed rested her head on the glass until footsteps drew her attention to the door. She smiled as Vee came in carrying a plate of zucchini fritters and mashed chickpeas, returning the warm greeting silently.

"Hungry? Axel wasn't a fan. He wants a cheeseburger from McDonald's," said Vee, handing the platter to Zed.

She accepted the dish with a nod. "Did you tell him why that's not possible?"

Vee sighed. The dark beneath his eyes seemed permanent now. "I didn't get into detail. He wouldn't understand."

"Shouldn't we make him understand?"

"It's too soon. The big lug just woke up. It was a challenge just to get him to lie there. Soon he'll want to leave the lab, and I don't know how he'll fare around his adoring fans."

Zed bit into a greasy fritter and scooped a dollop of the paste with the leftover crescent. "He'll love the ego-boost, I'm sure."

"That's what I'm afraid of. All those people will confuse him. Who knows what that might do to his head. We're in a delicate situation."

"Axel seems to like me. Maybe I can convince him to stay put."

Vee grimaced from the thought of Axel working Zed over with his motoring mouth and crass sense of humour. The scientist had grown accustomed to nights alone with her, cooking together and discussing their future. The night they'd spent alone in the greenhouse rang in his heart; the night he admitted his feelings and begged her to squash them. The thought of her alone with Axel picked a scab he didn't know he had.

"You're worried about something," Zed said.

Vee snapped from his bittersweet reverie and sighed. "Am I ever not worrying?"

"True," Zed snorted. "Now, eat. I can't finish this all myself."

The pair finished the plate before Vee set the dish aside and motioned her to the sofa.

"We need to talk about what we found in Glott's notes. I know we can't test this theory, but we should treat it as the truth," said Vee.

"Okay, well, if that's how we're approaching this D negative blood sample... What's the next step? We have no medical supplies. I checked the med tent in the courtyard for the third time just for fun."

"Then we have to visit Glott and get some answers. And by we... I mean me."

"Valter—"

"I know you don't want me to leave, but what other option do we have? Every day we waste here is another step backward."

Zed shook her head until a thin braid dislodged from behind her ear and swung in her face. Vee resisted the urge to tuck it back. The girl's face swivelled toward the window, and she pondered and watched the premature stars twinkle across the bruised sky.

"We go together," Zed said firmly. "I won't budge on that."

"And what about Axel?"

"We wait until he's better. We'll need him to navigate the way."

"And if he never recovers?" Vee asked.

"Then we go anyway. All three of us. We get Axel better, and we go together."

Vee inhaled through his nose as Zed screwed her eyes into his. When he nodded, a smile unfurled across her face, shadowed by the last drops of brassy sunlight.

"I hate this plan, but I suppose it's all we have," said Vee.

"Promise we'll all stick together."

"Of course, Lea. I won't leave without you guys. Promise."

"Promise-promise?"

"I double promise with a cherry on top. Stick a needle in my eye and call it macaroni."

Zed stifled laughter beneath her palm. "I think you've been hanging out with Sam too much."

"That, or I'm just tired."

"I'll let you sleep now. You look beat."

Vee twisted his mouth in lopsided agreement. "Yeah, you're right. I'm gonna hit the shower first. Unless you want to?"

"No, you go ahead. I'll stay here a little longer," Zed said as she laid her temple against the cool glass and looked out over the forest floor, now drowning in the twilight.

~*~

In the morning, Zed left the apartment and padded down the hallway in her mismatched slippers. She slowed as she turned the corner and found the brothers talking. Axel's eyebrows were locked in a line, and Vee looked up at her with relief.

"Lea, can you help me explain to Axel why he can't leave the hospital room?"

Axel whipped the covers off his thighs. "This place is fuckin' weird, and I know you're lying to me. That doctor you had in here is a whack-job. Something isn't adding up."

"Stay put," Vee commanded.

Zed rubbed the sleep from her eyes and prepared to take both sides with a long breath. "Axel, your brother is right. You can't leave yet. Just stay a little longer and heal."

"Where the fuck am I, Vee? This isn't like any hospital I've ever been to. And why can't I use the phone to call mom and dad?"

Axel's question erased all the sleep Vee had gotten the night before. His fatigue was contagious. Zed approached the bed and brushed Axel's shoulder. The touch diffused the tension in his upper body and opened him up to a new explanation, one that hadn't come from his kid brother's mouth.

"There are no phones here, Axel. You're right... This place is different. We're missing a lot of things you’d consider normal."

"Look, darlin', I know you're just trying to make me feel better, but none of what you're saying makes any sense. What do you mean there's no phone? There's electricity, isn't there? So why can't I hobble my way to a pay phone or borrow someone's cell?"

Vee and Zed exchanged pained looks. The younger brother kneaded his brow and offered Axel the same explanation he had before, reworded. Axel refused to believe a word and scrambled off the gurney, throwing Vee's hands off him as he limped a few steps and realized his mistake.

"What the fuck is wrong with my foot? Did someone sliced my ankle in half? What is happening to me? I feel like I'm on an acid trip that never ends. I go to sleep and see crazy shit, only to wake up in an even crazier place where there're no phones and no fucking food! You're talking in goddamn riddles, Vee. The least you can do is get me a Baconator for my trouble! I can't walk—I can't even jerk off 'cause my good hand is fucked. You gotta help me out."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Axe? There are no restaurants!"

"Bullshit! Sweetheart, come on, you can help me, right? Can you please just grab me something greasy? I'll pay you back, I promise. I'm good for it."

"I wish I could help you, Axel, but Vee's right. There's nowhere to get stuff like that anymore."

"Anymore? What does that even mean? You guys are talking like I slept through the apocalypse or something!"

Zed turned to Vee, who blocked the way to the courtyard. "Come on, Axe. Just settle down, and get back into bed."

"Are you gonna find me some painkillers then?" Axel faltered toward the bed and hoisted himself onto the flat mattress with his right arm.

"I'll see what I can do, buddy, but will you promise to stay here for a little longer?"

"Whatever," Axel scoffed. "What else am I gonna do?"

Zed waited until Axel slid back under the covers and tilted his face away from them both to assess Vee's mood. She suspected Axel's recovery would be difficult. Still, when she pictured him with his eyes open again, she heard laughter and saw game nights, shared wine and inside jokes knitting them closer together—not disarray and a friend who'd forgotten her. And if Vee had left the day he championed himself, Axel wouldn't have any flagship of his past. The scientist's presence tranquillized her despite Axel's rotten mood fouling the atmosphere.

"You're hungry, Axel?" Zed asked.

"Starving."

"I'll try to track down something tasty to eat. It won't be a greasy burger, but maybe I can find you something close to fries. I'll make it myself if I have to."

Axel flipped his eyes to the girl standing with her arms knotted behind her back and smiled. "Oh, darlin'...You're a sweet thing. I'd hate to ask, so I'll just accept the offer. Or maybe Vee can go, and you and I can chat a little more?"

Zed chuckled at the man's slyness. "I have some other things to do. We’ll talk when I get back."

"Don't rush for me, honey, but if you do, I'll take it as a good sign," Axel said with a wink.

At the cost of one of her knit blankets, Zed found someone in Athena to chop and bake a sweet potato in peanut oil. She bartered for garlic and salt to sprinkle on the dish. The redheaded child spotted her making transactions and stopped her at the mouth of the Hives with a cloth of fermented cashew cheese and a large chunk of bread that sat out overnight but was still soft. She offered the foodstuffs to Axel on a thin wood slab, and he accepted with an obsequious grin. He relinquished his dissatisfaction and warmed next to Zed.

"Aw, darlin', look at you go. How can I thank you for your trouble?" Axel asked as he chomped a crispy strand of sweet potato.

Zed stepped back from his bed, blushing. "It's okay, Axel. You don't have to do anything but get better."

"Will you stay with me for a while? If I have to stay in bed, it'd really make my life easier if I have someone to talk to. That is if you don't mind my chattiness."

"Sure. Let me grab a chair from the apartment," said Zed.

Axel finished his meal quickly, and as if he hadn't eaten at all, felt the pang of hunger moments after the last bite of bread. His appetite woke up ravenous, and no amount of homegrown food could satiate the growl.

"I might need to eat again in an hour," Axel informed as Zed dragged the chair across the floor. “I’m a big boy, you know.”

"That's fine. I'll find you something in a little while ."

The injured man nodded and sighed, eyelashes fluttering over tired green eyes. A bloated silence proceeded, and Zed wondered how to initiate a conversation. Vee told her not to confuse Axel with present-day news, but all she wanted to do was ask about Richard Glott's underground bunker and with who he'd crossed paths that left him slashed and maimed.

After a couple of deep breaths, Axel murmured, "I see you in my dreams every time I fall asleep. Is that strange?"

Zed hid her shy smile behind her palm. "Oh, stop."

Axel shimmied his torso higher on the bed and frowned in pain. "No, seriously. Not trying to be slick, honey. I see the most fucked up things when I sleep. You know the kind of dreams so vivid, you wake up and your heart’s pounding, thinking it's all real for a minute? Then you're like... No way."

Zed shifted closer to Axel's bed. "What do you dream about?"

Axel smiled to himself. "You, mostly... Us. You and me doing crazy shit together. Sometimes I'm in the desert, and I see this airplane in the distance. It's on the ground, and I ride toward it, you know, you're not gonna ignore a crashed plane, right? Then I find you there, but these guys are hurting you, and you're going nuts trying to shake 'em, but there's too many, so I shoot 'em all, and they melt like popsicles. You stab one good, though."

"What else?" Zed asked.

"I dunno... Sometimes it's just me and you cruising through the desert, and I get the feeling you hate me, but I kinda like it. I'm happy you're there, even though we're in the middle of nowhere, and I have no idea what's gonna happen next."

"Sounds like some pretty weird dreams."

"They're so lucid. It's like a movie, and I'm the main character, and you're... Well, you. Like my cool sidekick."

"Sidekick, huh?" Zed scoffed.

"Yeah, you have this air about you that's like not to be fucked with. Then things always get real dark. I don't even want to tell you about it 'cause you'll think I'm fucked in the head."

Zed knew this part of the story and lowered her eyes to the floor. "It's okay. You can tell me if you want. It's just dreams, right?"

"Nah, I'll just leave it at that. It's not sex stuff or anything if you're wondering."

"Your dreams are more entertaining than anything I have going on today."

With Zed's green light, Axel inhaled deeply before launching into the story of their past. Before he uttered another syllable, a severed connection sparked in his head. His eyes grew large, and he looked around the makeshift hospital room, awestruck.

"In my dreams, we're trying to get to Vee. He needs us for some reason."

"What does he need?"

"Some science shit, which makes total sense because he's a scientist. He's actually a scientist, and not just in my dreams."

"Axel... These dreams you've had... Do you think they have significance?" Zed asked carefully.

"Totally. They have to. Right? Or am I fucking crazy?"

"You're not crazy, Axel. I promise."

"But what if I am? This place... I get such a bad feeling when I'm awake in this room by myself. Vee won't tell me where we are. It's like he's hiding something, and he never lies to me about anything. We don't do that."

"Vee just wants you to get better. He's under a lot of stress, and your recovery is a big part of that. We didn't think—he didn't think you'd make it through. Another complication is the last thing you guys need."

Axel went quiet again and fixated on the dust motes and bolts of lightning crackling up his leg. A storm grew behind his eyes, the same torrents Zed saw when she tried to stop him from leaving Kinderfeld and her behind. Sickened by the thought of Axel sneaking off, she touched his arm and offered a warm smile.

"Talk to me, Axel. Please. Don't keep anything inside."

Axel glanced at her small hand on his tattooed bicep and the lightning in his body faded.

"We were friends in a past life," Axel claimed.

"We're friends in this life."

"Can I tell you one other thing, then I promise I'll stop talking about my bonkers dreams?"

"Yes. I don't mind at all."

Axel curled his bicep and touched Zed's fingers, feeling the motion out until she grasped his hand.

"I think I have to take you somewhere."

"Oh, yeah?" Zed giggled. "And where's that?"

Axel blushed for the first time and brought her hand to hold next to him on the bed. "Not like on a date or anything. I just get this feeling that I'm supposed to protect you, even though you seem capable of looking after yourself just fine. This dream voice keeps reminding me to stay with you and Vee... Like I'm not allowed to let either of you out of my sight. Especially not you."

"Then don't," Zed said.

He squeezed her fingers gently. "I won't."

~*~

Word of Axel's consciousness seeped out of the lab and into the village. Nobody knew who had made the discovery—Vee blamed Samson while Zed suspected Nalani, who'd waltzed by the lab doors at a suspiciously slow pace several times each day—and leaked the information. They barred visitors and only allowed the doctor in to help change Axel's bandages until Ivar arrived.

Axel was alone, humming a tune from his teenage years when the king came through the doors and stopped to stare at his bed-ridden friend.

"Zee, you're awake? And no one thought to tell me?"

"Sorry, hombre, but I think you have the wrong room. Name's Axel."

Ivar flashed all his sharp teeth in a sly smile and wagged his finger. "Always a joker."

"No, really," Axel chuckled, then went deadpan. "Wait... Who are you?"

Before Ivar spoke, Vee walked into the lab and froze when he saw Ivar standing a few feet from Axel's bed.

"Ivar. I wasn't expecting you."

The king sneered and motioned toward Axel. "What's with this guy?"

"Hey, maybe we can talk for a second?" Vee invited Ivar down the hall, out of earshot.

Ivar glared at the scientist. "When exactly were you planning on telling me he woke up?"

"That's the thing, Ivar. You don't understand... Axel's suffering from amnesia. It's common for coma patients to lose parts of their memory. Right now, he's in a very touchy state. He has no idea where he is, who you are, or what any of this is. I've tried to keep people away from him to avoid confusion, but now everybody knows. It's not good for him. Subjecting him to all this new information can cause anxiety, panic... Who knows. We're trying to ease him back into life."

"What do you mean he doesn't know who I am? I'm his best friend."

"Trust me. Axel doesn't even remember serving in the army."

"That's crazy. We should tell him—"

"No. It's too big of a shock. Axel's already gone through hell. Imagine trying to explain our world to somebody who has virtually no idea what's happened in the last couple of years."

Ivar pondered and didn't respond to Vee's relief, then sighed as though he accepted the explanation.

"So what does this mean for you? I assume you're retracting your claim and staying in Kinderfeld?"

Vee twisted his mouth to the side. "How can I go now?"

"You volunteered."

"That was before Axel came home. He needs me. I'm the only person he recognizes. Give me some more time with him, get him back on his feet and see if he'll start remembering, then I'll go."

Ivar crossed his arms across his burly chest. "Who knows how long that might take?"

"Would you leave someone you loved in that state?"

"I'd do what's for the greater good."

"He's your best friend. He's my brother. Axel needs us right now, Ivar. Think of all he's done for us. We owe it to take care of him until he's fit to at least walk again. I need him to remember what happened so I can get a better idea of what's going on outside."

"I suppose you're right," Ivar conceded. "You can't go out blind by yourself."

"Yes, you're right," Vee said with great relief.

"So what now? I can't talk to him?"

"You can speak to him if you like, but try not to bring up things that might confuse him. Don't talk about the army or mention recent times."

Ivar looked over his shoulder at the apartment's open door and heard the muted humming of a girl filtering through the corridor.

"And how's Lea taking all of this?"

Vee stiffened. "She's helping out."

"Axel has no idea who she is? He really doesn't know what's happened?"

"Not that I can tell. He keeps asking for cheeseburgers and to call our parents."

"Wow," Ivar whispered.

"Yeah, it's hard."

Ivar went quiet, distant, and shook his head slowly before inhaling through his nose and squeezing Vee's shoulder. "I trust you, brother. Maybe we'll talk more about your expedition in a few days when things have a chance to settle with Axel."

"You got it."

Axel pretended he wasn't trying to listen to the conversation between his brother and the brown-haired man with the striking blue eyes when the pair returned. Ivar nodded at Axel, his eyes awash with sympathy for the indisposed man.

"How are you feeling, Axel?"

"A little on the shitty side, my man. Not gonna lie. Hands busted, foot's bum... Can't fuck my way to a decent meal in this place, and everyone's tiptoeing around like I'm a sleeping baby. Gotta say I've had better days."

"Well, I hope you heal up quick. There are a lot of people who want to see you."

A coy smirk unfurled over Axel's face. "Yeah, I kinda get that impression. Sometimes, I see people looking in through those doors. I feel like a panda at a zoo. Everyone wants a peek at little ol’ Axel, huh?"

"Is there anything I can get you?"

"Cheeseburger?" Axel asked hopefully.

"Would if I could, friend."

"Goddamn it," Axel lamented.

Vee widened his eyes when Ivar looked at him, confirming what they'd discussed in the hallway.

"Say, how do you stay so beefy if there's no meat in this place?" Axel asked Ivar.

"I get my protein where I can. Try to stay fit. I'll get someone to bring you something good to eat."

Axel snorted. "Yeah, that's what that sweet-lookin' one said, but everything tastes like tree bark. No offence to her. She tried her best, and I'd never insult a lady's cooking to her face."

Ivar sucked in his bottom lip and nodded. "Well, I'll see what I can do for you, Axel. Get better soon."

Vee held his breath until Ivar left the lab and shrunk once the doors closed.

"You sure have a way with words, don't you?"

"Everyone who walks in here acts like they know me."

"We might have to move you to the apartment. Put a cap on your visitors."

"Who was that?" Axel asked.

"That's Ivar Lothbrok. He kinda runs things, in a sense."

"Nice guy."

Vee scoffed. "Yeah. Nice."

An itch stuck in the back of Axel's head, and he grew quiet once again, trying to unravel the mystery he'd woken up inside. He was a figure in a snow globe, a permanent fixture in a landscape rife with faces he'd seen in dreams. Sitting up in his bed, Axel wondered what laid beyond the confines of his glasshouse. Never one to follow the rules, even under the firm guidance of his smart younger brother, Axel decided once everyone fell asleep, he'd find himself a walking post and go exploring.

~*~

Zed woke to the sound of Vee's soft snoring coming through the open door of his bedroom. The possibility of sleep retracted with every second she spent staring at the smooth, globular ceiling in the dark, trying to make shapes out of the dream residue behind her eyelids. The sofa stiffened her back, and she twisted her spine until air bubbles popped and her muscles strained from the motion. She pulled the blanket up to her chin and squeezed her eyes shut for a few minutes, but Axel's stories followed her from sleep, brushing up on her with sharp quills. Since Axel painted his dream world, she hadn't stopped thinking of him and mourning the loss of his memory for the both of them. Axel didn't know his missing pieces were dancing under his eyes each time he slumbered, and she longed to stitch them together to create the full picture.

She squinted into the darkness, fatigue long since faded, and left the apartment. Light on her bare feet, Zed padded down the hallway and turned the corner to find an empty bed. Her heart twinged from Axel's absence. She considered going back to the apartment to tell Vee his brother was missing but found herself propelled to seek Axel out herself. There was nowhere in the lab a man of Axel's stature could hide, so she went out to the courtyard to begin her search. The floodlights cast pyramids of light over the foothills but revealed nothing but stone paths and glittering grass ranks. She started left first, then changed her mind and shot right toward the warehouse. Zed minded her steps as she picked up a jog, extending her legs to clear the roiling yards until she reached the square entrance of the warehouse. A guard leaned against the steel wall next to the exit, blinking and wiping a hand over his face to rouse himself. He saw Zed across the cement expanse and stood up straight.

"What're you doing out here?" The guard's voice clattered through the chamber.

"Sorry," Zed said, casting a thorough glance around before retreating into the light and shadow of the courtyard again. She rushed to the Hives, taking quick strides to reach her abandoned apartment before anyone else noticed her. After a quick knock, Zed opened the door to find her former living quarters as deserted as ever. Nobody had claimed the space in her absence, nor was Axel's adjoining apartment occupied. Both rooms were empty.

Zed's search for Axel continued and grew in urgency with each lonely cove and space she found. As she made her way around the central dome where the courtyard bordered the largest hill, she stopped at the mouth of the Chrysalis and addressed the men standing guard.

"Have either of you seen someone limping through here?"

"Nobody's come 'round here, Zed. Who're you looking for?"

Zed cocked her head. "Who do you think?"

"You mean Zee?" The man on the right asked. "Thought he was paralyzed."

"So it's true? He's awake?"

"Please don't tell anyone. Not yet."

The bearded guard rose a dark eyebrow at Zed. He was one of Ivar's highest-ranking patrol. Zed recognized him from the night they'd brought in the Zeronaut captain, Monk. He often stood by wherever Ivar went and didn't talk much unless addressed. "Ivar know about this?"

"I don't know what Ivar knows. Vee communicates with him, but we're trying to keep this from the general public."

"What do you think, Fen? Should we tell Ivar?" The scrawny, clean-shaven guard asked.

Fen sneered and told his partner to close his mouth before angling his torso toward Zed. "We'll keep an eye out, petite fleur."

Zed nodded and continued on her way, but there were few more spots Axel could hide unless someone had intercepted him and invited him into their hovel. She thought of Nalani, who often wandered the courtyard at odd hours and Trinity, who adored Axel and might jump at the opportunity to lead him to a private alcove. The two of them shared living space in Athena. Zed wanted to keep the search party light, and asking around would only spread curiosity like wildfire.

She continued touring the courtyard, her naked soles sore from hurried walking. Finally, she stopped at the greenhouse gate, its series of coiling iron bars and metal flowers welded to the columns in intricate clusters. Zed lifted the latch and pushed the gate open, taking care to shut it quietly. The greenhouse where the citizens grew aloe and berries was the little-known getaway spot Axel and Vee coveted as their private paradise. Zed zigzagged through the raised beds, taking care not to trip over the irrigation hoses and climbed the wooden steps at the back of the third square house. Around another corner and through the thick blackberry bushes nestled in rectangles of sodden earth, Zed rushed to the spot under the sky where the light poured in but found nothing.

"Shit," she whispered, out of breath and reeling in the thick, tepid air.

Zed looked up to the cloudless velveteen sky, crushing disappointment wringing her heart. In a throng of shadow off to the right, a figure shifted and startled the woman backward.

A tired voice called her name.

The shady form lengthened, struggling to stand. Once it stood at its full height, the vice pressing Zed's chest disappeared. Axel hobbled into view, using the overhead pipes to help himself along.

"Axel! There you are. Oh my God, you had me so worried. Why did you leave the lab?"

"The lab? Is that where you've been keeping me?"

Zed clapped her palm over her mouth. Axel gave an elongated nod, eyes wide and accusatory.

"Is that what I am? Some kind of experiment?"

"No, Axel—"

"What are you and Vee doing? Tell me why he's keeping me locked up. Tell me where the fuck I am, Lea. Please. This place... Something about it seems wrong. It scares me."

Axel wilted against a plant bed as Zed approached and caught his elbow to keep him upright.

"Axel, don't be scared. Please, I promise you're safe. We're not trying to keep you captive. This is all difficult to explain, and you were asleep for so long parts of your memory are missing. Vee's only trying to make it easier for you to cope."

"Cope with what, Lea? Cope with the fact I'm a prisoner? That I can't sleep because my nightmares are so vivid, I feel like I'm dying? That people watch me like some sideshow freak?"

"Everything," Zed sighed. "The new world. How can we explain all this to someone who woke up in the past?"

Axel looked up through the skylights and whimpered. "Something terrible has happened, hasn't it?"

Zed, wounded from the dejection in her friend's voice, led Axel to sit on the floor, then sat next to him and draped her arms over his shoulders, resting her cheek on the thin cotton shoulder strap of his tank top.

"I wish I could say you're wrong, but I can't lie to you, Axe."

"My instincts were right. Something is very wrong. After that Ivar fella came through, I started getting this feeling you all weren't telling me something on purpose."

"Don't be angry with us, Axel. We didn't know how to tell you."

Axel leaned his head on Zed's and sought her hand to hold. She slid her fingers through his and gripped tightly. "It's okay. I get it now. I'm supposed to be here. You and me... We're meant to be together. Otherwise... Why would I see you every time I close my eyes?"

"Axel," Zed whispered. "I missed you so much when you left. I thought I'd never see you again. Now everything is different."

"I'm sorry. If I hurt you back then... I didn't mean it."

"Just don't leave me again. Please. I can't fool myself into happiness without you in my life."

"I won't leave. I can't."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Lea."

"Promise-promise?"

Axel chuckled and kissed the top of Zed's head before laying his cheek on the ruts of her braids. "Yeah. I promise-promise."

~*~

Axel and Zed laid on the floorboards and watched the stars twinkling above while the chamber filled with water vapour, obscuring the glass until the condensation evaporated. When the infinite black sky lightened to meteorite violet, Axel used Zed as a crutch to stand up. He stole a fistful of blackberries, stuffing the fruits in his mouth and mashing them until inky juice seeped from the corners of his lips. He complained about his ankle, which he'd suffered walking on during his solo excursion to the greenhouses. Zed berated him for wandering off and helped him down the steps and through the rows of potato plants, arms locked, their pace slow to accommodate Axel's injury.

A murmur greeted the pair as they approached the iron gate. A dozen villagers gathered around the entrance to witness Axel emerge with smiles on their faces. Frozen from the elated faces beaming at him, Axel pulled on Zed's arm, alerting her to the hoard of onlookers.

"Who are they?" Axel asked.

"Zee! Happy you're awake!"

"What happened to your arm, Zee? Are you okay?"

"He looks terrible."

Zed opened the gate, and the crowd dented but didn't part. "Make room, please!"

"We want to talk to Zee!"

Axel then realized the group addressed him, their wide eyes drinking in his bruised and broken state with smiles unfitting his poor condition. An overwhelming sense of worry touched his skin, and he grabbed for Zed to lead him, but they huddled around the gate until a tall head of blond hair sliced the crowd in half. Vee shouldered past, his eyes hooded and brow furrowed.

"Axel! Lea! What the hell are you doing out here? Lea, did you let him out?"

Zed frowned and drew her shoulders up. "Of course not! I'm the one who came looking for him."

"Let's go. Come on, now. Everyone make way. Go back home!" Vee barked.

"We want answers! What's happening outside the walls?"

"We'll answer your questions later," Vee said disdainfully. "Lea, help me get him back."

The trio staggered to the lab, breathless from the trek over the bowing foothills. Vee waited until they were behind closed doors to deliver a speech about how irresponsible and defiant Axel was, how his behaviour might cause unwanted ripples where the scientist required placidity. Axel hoisted himself into bed and accepted his lecture, sullen and quiet, occasionally glancing at Zed, who also wrung her wrists.

"I told you not to leave the room, Axe. Why? Why can't you listen to me for once in your goddamn life?" Vee asked.

"You're not my mommy, Valter. I can do what I want, and frankly, I don't appreciate you keeping secrets from me!"

"What are you on about?"

"Oh, don't play dumb. You've lied to me this whole time! About where we are, what's happened to me. I think you know much more than you lead on."

Vee scoffed and looked to Zed for reassurance. The girl stood still with her shoulders hunched.

"Lea, help me out here."

"Well, Vee... Maybe it's time we tell him everything. There's no use hiding the truth anymore. He already knows something's wrong."

"Yeah!" Axel cried. "I'm done sitting around twiddling my thumbs. You have to tell me what's up. How did I get like this? What the fuck happened to me, and why can't I remember anything? I don't know how I got here or who all those people are out there."

"That's the thing, Axe... We don't know what happened to you. You left, and when you came back, you were unconscious and hurt. We don't leave this place, so I can't tell you anything more than that. I didn't know if you'd wake up and certainly didn't know you'd have amnesia when you did."

Axel turned to Zed for verification, and she nodded her head regretfully.

"It's true, Axel. I wish we could tell you more."

"Then at least tell me where I am. Start there," Axel demanded.

Vee and Zed stood speechless for a moment until she sighed deeply. "Vee, maybe we should give him the postcards and his journals."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're right, Lea. Go get the box. Tonight's gonna be a long one."

Zed hauled the box of postcards and dog-eared journals into the lab and hefted it onto the foot of Axel's bed. Vee unpinned the postcards from the corkboard and offered them to Axel with a pinched smile. Zed sat in her chair while Vee laid on the floor, a long arm slung over his eyes as Axel began to read aloud from his workbooks. The three of them listened to the stories Axel had penned years before while he was in the infantry as if none of them had heard the tales. From time to time, Axel stopped narrating and glided over the lines, taking in details he should have known, but couldn't place. During these silences, Zed and Vee would look up at him to assess his emotions, whether or not the words shifted the pieces into place or made any difference at all.

Axel took in a strained breath. "Ivar and I aren't talking. He wants to be the leader on this ship, and if things don't go his way, he turns into a giant douche-nozzle," he broke into giggling at his insult. "I haven't eaten in three days, and the water supply is low. We're down to a cup a day each. It's not enough, but it's gotten us through so far. One of the guys got sick, and they've taken him below deck. He throws up constantly even though there's nothing in his gut and howls all night in agony. I swear to God I'll shoot him in the head tomorrow if he doesn't let us sleep tonight. Someone needs to put him out of his misery."

Zed grimaced, and Vee stared at the ceiling with dry eyes, unflinching from the story.

"Day six... I now know what rat meat tastes like."

"Oh, god. Ew," Zed mumbled.

Axel continued without pause. "It's not that bad when you haven't eaten in almost a week. I've set up more traps in the galley to catch the rest. If Ivar plays his cards right, I might share my rats with him, but he's still a stuck-up twat.

I'm not sure how the rats are surviving. Maybe there's food still hidden somewhere on the ship. Maybe they're eating each other."

"This must have been when you were on your way back to America...Or... Whatever you want to call this half of the world now," Vee said.

"What do you mean?" Asked Axel.

"The Unity... The government... They abolished the borders, erased the country names and burned the history books. The states became part of the North-Western Hemisphere. Same with Canada and all that. No countries. No names."

Axel seemed to accept his brother's explanation that nothing would ever be as before. The commune in which he now resided was the only tangible place left in existence. Outside the walls lay sites changed from war, stripped of home and heritage. A tightness in Axel's neck prevented him from speaking until the revelations grew too heavy for him to bear.

"What happened to everyone else?" Axel asked.

"It's hard to say," Vee whispered, then cleared his throat. "A lot of people died."

"How many?"

"Billions," Zed said.

"You mean... We're the only ones left?"

"No, we're not. There are other survivors out there, people who were meant to live through the storms."

"Storms?"

Vee sighed, the farfetched nature of their fates exhausting him before he began. "The Unity developed a way to return the planet back to its natural state. No more electronic communication, no more broadcasts or satellites or TV. After the extinctions reached an all-time high, they introduced these plants that could suck the pollution from the air quickly. They grow extremely fast and are lethal to anyone who wasn't vaccinated against the spores. One plant can release a spore cloud big enough to cover half a football field, and they breed and multiply like vermin. Even a small cluster can kill a stadium of unimmunized people in a few minutes."

"But why would they do this? Have I been vaccinated?"

Axel's questions ripped holes in Vee’s composure. Zed's stomach churned and flipped as the scientist fished for the least aggressive explanation. A gloss came over his eyes, and he avoided his brother's bewildered stare.

"No, Axe. You're not."

"Oh... Are you?" Axel whispered.

"Yeah, I am. So is Lea."

"Why? Why didn't I get vaccinated?"

"You were lost at sea with your platoon for weeks, and before that, you were overseas. They didn't immunize the troops."

"Are you telling me the government wants us all to die?"

"Most of this is widely debated. There are some theories that the Unity had a strategy in mind."

Zed lent the scientist a hand and cut the heavy topic with a smile. "Axel, you're much more special than you know. Those people out there all adore you because of what you've done for Kinderfeld. You were the only one brave enough to go out when they needed supplies. People know your name not only here but out in the world. I've seen you fight and shoot. You're a natural."

"Well, yeah. I've been shooting guns since I was a kid."

"You were a special ops sniper. More than just a good shot."

Axel warmed to the compliment. "And what about you? Are you the mercenary of my dreams?"

Zed blushed and failed to hide her pride. "Not a mercenary... But I've murked a few Scavs in my day."

"Man... I like you," Axel tittered. "Ain't she great, Vee? What a prize."

For the few seconds of silence that passed, Vee's expression darkened. He recognized the reverence pulling Axel's features, the heartfelt way Lea relaxed when they spoke. Even in the absence of memory, Axel and Zed forged a bond too strong to pry apart. He would never wish ill upon his brother, but he mourned the days past with the woman whose eyes shone like vats of golden syrup passing under the morning light. At the risk of sharing a likeness with Ivar, the king who could never quite capture the woman's love, Vee thought of what life might have been like had Axel never returned. Would Zed love him? Could she? Had he ever toed the waters of her unspoken affection? Vee cursed his stupidity the night he told her how he felt and quickly dismantled his chances before she had the opportunity to consider him more than a close friend.

As Zed stared at Axel upright in his bed with his journals splayed out around him, Vee knew it was too late to rescind his platonic claim. A victim of his own sabotage, the scientist turned from them and pushed out every last ounce of breath to make room for another stale intake.

"I think it's time I showed Axel the Crimson Yawn."

Zed nodded and left the brothers, sensing a gloomy air rising between them. Vee was much better at explaining the inexplicable. He delivered news with a needed bluntness, one Zed had never mastered. Once she left the lab searching for distractions, Vee helped his brother box up the journals and offered his elbow to guide Axel back on his feet. Amid the bleak news, Axel had almost forgotten the pain in his extremities.

They waddled to the locked chambers where the bulk of Vee's scientific discoveries came to light. Axel squinted against the bright white walls and polished floor as he followed his brother through a series of doors leading to a clear dome similar to the greenhouses he'd found, only this hollow contained a twisted swarm of redheaded plants, mouths bloody and agape. Each one stood over seven feet tall and lifted its black-spotted maw to the sky in a silent scream. Axel turned from them.

"I've seen these before, but never this many. In my dreams, there's always one growing in a container."

"You recognize them?"

"And you say these things can kill me? How is it possible?" Axel asked.

"They're a sophisticated hybrid plant. They release spores like mushrooms, and those spores become airborne. If you breathe them in, they attack your blood, soaking up the nutrients and essentially turning it into a highly acidic jelly. You burn from the inside out. Well...Dissolve is a better word."

"And you've brought me here why!?" Axel shouted, dodging backward and planting too much weight on his bad ankle.

"Don't worry! They can't hurt you from in here. The filtration system's design protects everything inside."

"I still have a hard time believing all this. You know how crazy it sounds, right?"

Vee clapped his brother on the shoulder. "Oh, I realize. Why do you think it took me so long to break the news? You try finding a delicate way to explain this to someone who just came out of a coma."

Axel became transfixed on the plants again after Vee's assurance. He shuffled to the glass and studied the roaring heads, each one slightly different than its neighbour. They resembled demons, bizarre red monsters with thick necks and broad leaves of wax. Their spiked roots toiled in the ground, gnarled and tangled in a hellish orgy above and beneath the soil. Beyond the ranks, Axel saw the roiling jungle and all its hues of green and black. The sun broke through parts in the towering trees. How he longed to feel the wind on his burnt skin and walk among the flora. Axel observed the plants for a few minutes as Vee stepped back and allowed him time to digest.

"Am I in a nightmare?" Axel met his brother's eyes and did not blink.

"Some might say that. And I'm sorry. I've dedicated my life to making things better for the survivors, but there's nothing left I can do. All we have now is the village and each other."

"And mom and dad?"

"They're gone, Axe. They've been gone a while."

The tattooed man swallowed bitterly and nodded as a wall of tears blinded him. Vee touched his brother's shoulder and shared his pain through the comforting gesture. Axel crossed his chest with his good hand and patted Vee's fingers.

"Do you mind if I spend some time alone? This is... It's just a lot."

"Of course. Take all the time you need, Axe. I'll leave the doors unlocked. You good to walk?"

Axel's voice floated below a whisper. "I’ll manage."

~*~

In the apartment, Zed held her arms out before her and swung them in half-circles, stretching her muscles in preparation for another stiff night spent on the sofa. Vee came in after dinner and found Zed flinging her limbs outward.

"Nightly aerobics?" He asked with a touch of humour, the most he could muster after a day of harsh truths.

"Just stretching out before bed. My back's been killing me."

"Oh," Vee's green eyes popped open wide. "Don't sleep on the couch, Lea. You can take the bed tonight."

"Nah, it's okay."

"No, really. I insist. You deserve a night without hanging off the edge of the cushions."

"Then where will you sleep?" She asked.

"The couch."

Zed laughed at the idea. "You're far too tall to fit comfortably."

"I've passed out there dozens of times. Don't worry about me, really. Take the bed."

"Why're you being so nice, huh?" Zed snorted.

"I've seen you in pain the last few days, and I feel bad. It's rude of me to have one of the biggest beds in this place when I don't do anything to deserve it."

"Oh, shush," Zed jested. "You've done more for this place than anyone."

"There's always the Chrysalis."

The good humour in the room vanished with Vee's maladroit suggestion. Zed shook her head and scoffed. "I'm not going to the Chrysalis. I want to stay here with you guys."

"Fine by me. You'll take the bed tonight then. Grab your blankets and go."

Zed and Vee swapped bedding and wished each other goodnight. Though she deemed herself undeserving of the luxury, when Zed crawled onto Vee's large bed and spread her limbs from corner to corner, her skin bristled with goosebumps. The scent of the sheets belonged to the man outside the room, sprawled on the sofa, long legs dangling over the arm—cotton and boyish musk, the redolence Zed had grown accustomed to except in this moment. Lying on the mattress reminded her of the hugs and closeness she'd received from Vee when Axel had fled.

She relived their days together in clips of happy memories and some not so joyful. Across the apartment, Vee recalled the same night playing in Zed's mind—their evening in the greenhouse when they'd held hands, so close together yet barred by the promises of friendship. Vee cursed himself repeatedly while Zed entertained the idea of getting together with the scientist.

Soon, Zed's thoughts slid over the night she'd spent with Ivar. If she concentrated, she could feel the fullness between her legs still. Ivar had made love to her the way couples did in films. He'd stroked her and kissed her skin, took her nipples gently between his lips and sucked until she giggled. What might have excited some left her shivering. Was one of the brothers more deserving of her love? Was she foolish to think herself so desirable her attention was a coveted badge of excellence?

What a prize!

Lea... I want you to tell me no, right now.

It's like you were made for me.

With her heart racing, Zed turned over in bed and clamped her eyes shut. Debating which of the three men in her life she wanted more made her stomach flip, yet she couldn't keep the lewd considerations from pouring into her head. In these fantasies, she replaced Ivar with Vee. Yes, he was smart and gentle and keen on her, but he'd told her not to let him cross the line, claimed he didn't want her that way despite his feelings. Vee's kind face took the place of Ivar's, coasting down her stomach, stamping her thighs with kisses from luscious lips. She squeezed her legs together and let the inevitable shift knock Vee from the picture to make room for his older brother.

The tattooed man with all his addictions and his looming depression positioned himself between her knees and grasped her ankles delicately. A murderer and womanizer leaned over her body, caging her with long limbs decorated with sparrows, weapons, chains and barbed wire.

We're meant to be together. I see you in my dreams every time I fall asleep.

Zed bit her lip when the phantom sensation invaded her. She knew not how Axel would moan or if he'd coo and sigh the way Ivar had when they had sex. She wanted very much to think Axel would treat her with respect and scorned the claims Trinity had made about his wild side. Then the obscene journal entries came to life, glowing, fanned by salacious visions. What if she didn't want to make love? What if she wanted to be taken hard and fast by a man who worshiped her? Guilt and arousal mixed in her chest and sat heavy, grinning evilly like a demon poised to possess her body.

Sleep wriggled through Zed's conjurations and pulled her under before she realized she was slipping into blackness. The cozy bed and Vee's sheets lulled her, and soon, she dreamed of ordinary things, forgetting her personal stash of pornographic thoughts. She slipped further as the moon made a lazy arc through the night sky until something touched her shoulder and jarred her from sleep with a sharp gasp.

Her scream ripped through the apartment, sending her waker toppling out of bed.

"Lea? Oh, fuck. Fuck!"

"Axel?"

In the dimness, neither of them saw each other but tasted each other's heavy breath. Soon the light snapped on, and Vee stood at the door, chest heaving.

"What the hell is going on?" Vee asked. "Axel? What're you doing?"

"Christ, I thought Zed was you. I just came to... Well, I couldn't sleep," Axel cringed. "Shit, my hand. Fuck, I landed like a sack of bricks."

Vee snickered, setting off a series of giggles. "You came to sleep in my bed?"

"I didn't mean to scare you, Lea."

"It's all right," said Zed. "Really. On any other night, it would have been Vee in here."

Axel pulled himself up by the elbows and sat on the edge of the bed, grimacing from the agony of his agitated wounds. "Sorry, guys. It's hard to sleep out there. People are watching me."

Zed scooted over and patted the part of the mattress warm from her body. "Come on. Lie down. I think we could all use a sleepover after the day we've had."

"You're not serious," Vee said with a scoff as his brother took up Zed's offer and laid down next to her.

Zed nodded with conviction. "Absolutely. You too, Valter. Turn off the light and get over here."

He rolled his eyes as he flipped the light switch. "This is hardly a three-person bed."

"Well, cuddle up, pal."

"Lea takes up a fraction of the bed, anyway," Axel pointed out.

"Is this not weird to you? Three adults sharing a bed?"

Zed moved to the center as Vee climbed into bed from the left. To her right, Axel had already sprawled and turned over to face her in the dark.

"It's no stranger than how half the people in this place sleep all piled on top of each other. Humans were meant to nest. In the wild, this is how we'd sleep."

"Yeah, but we're not in the wild," said Vee.

"Yes, we are, little brother. Have you seen it outside? We're literally in glass bubbles, in the middle of a rainforest. Now shut up, and go to sleep."

"You shut up."

"Guys?" Zed chimed.

"Yeah?" The brothers answered.

"I love you both.”

Robbed of their voices, Axel and Vee set aside their bickering to bask in the genial haze of Zed's words. Axel shifted an inch closer while Vee laid stiffly on his side, eyes wide in the dark. As though her claim was bathed in wine, they soaked in the meaning and slipped drunkenly into slumber.

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