#flutistbyday writes

[flutistbyday2020]

Angel Dust's Birthday

It was Angel's birthday.

Charlie is determined to let Angel Dust just how much he is loved.

Y'all. I broke my own heart writing this, so be warned.

Angsty fluff that *should* make you feel a little better.

I'm new to the fandom and I wrote this in a few hours. It's only been edited once, so I apologize for the errors.

In which Angel Finds out just how much he's loved.

Angsty fluff.

Warnings: heartache

Word count: 2217

I messed around with the timeline a little. Moonlight Serenade wasn't recorded and released until the 1940s, but I love it SO much. It was my great grandmother's favorite song and I feel like a child when I hear it. I suggest listening to it! Also, I forgot what a BITCH it is to format on Ao3. Sorry, y'all.

“Fucking Val and his stupid mother fucking games,” Angel mutters as he stomps into the Hotel.

Valentino knew what an important day it was and was still an ass to Angel.

As much as Angel didn’t want to admit it, Val had hurt his feelings and he wanted to drink it off.

He stomps past the lobby but Cherri Bomb stands in his way, arms on her hips, wide smile on her face.

“Hi, Angel! What are you doing? How was your day?” she all but screeches.

[[More]]]

Angel involuntarily grimaces, pushing Cherri away as she attempts to stop him from moving forward.

“What? I’m fine, Cherri,” he hisses. “What are you on about? Let me through.”

Cherri pushes back, gaining some momentum.

“Seriously, Cherri, I’ve had a long day and I just want to get drunk.”

She grins. “Even better,” she said. “Let’s go blow something up--”

“I’m not in the mood,” Angel yells, puffing up to all eight feet.

Cherri’s grin falters. “Just trying to cheer you up,” she grumbles, still attempting to stop Angel but failing.

Angel was fueled by a shit day and the need for alcohol.

“Wait--” Cherri grabs his arm, but he pulls away.

“Shit! Fuck! AHHHH!! Mother fucker!”

He rushes to the source of the noise-- the kitchen.

He goes through the door frame and is greeted by a six-foot flame shooting from the oven; Charlie frantically waves her arms, screaming at the top of her lungs.

Lucifer came rushing in. “What is--”

He took in the scene and with a snap of his fingers, the flame was gone, but a pitiful Princess was left.

She looked at Angel and burst into tears.

“What the fuck?” Angel gets out before Charlie throws herself on him, clinging to him with a death grip.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out between sobs. “I wanted it to be perfect! But I can’t even make you a cake!” She wails at the top of her lungs.

He patted her head the way one would pat a bomb. He gives Lucifer a “please help me” look and Lucifer takes in a breath.

“She wanted to surprise you with a cake and a party.” Lucifer grimaces and pulls Charlie from Angel.

“Uh, Vaggie? Can you come here?” he calls.

Vaggie comes in a moment later. “What the fuck?”

Lucifer drops the still blubbering Princess into her girlfriend’s arms and gives a tight smile.

Vaggie pulls Charlie closer, petting her and pushing her hair back.

He walks to the oven and pulls out the cake pan. “I don’t know how,” he says, hands on hips, “but she managed to set the oven on fire,” he picks up the oven pan and the cake batter drips out. “And failed to cook the cake.”

Vaggie's eyes widen and Charlie wails louder.

“I’m suck a fuck up!” she sobs.

“No, you’re not!” Angel, Lucifer, and Vaggie say.

It takes some doing, but eventually, Charlie is calmed down enough to proceed with the party. She leads Angel to a parlor and half-heartedly says, “Surprise!”

The room is decorated from top to bottom in shades of pink and white. Streamers, table cloths, napkins, cups, and even a banner that read, “Happy Birthday, Angel Dust!” written in immaculate handwriting.

Niffty comes running in. “Do you like the sign? I made it. And I helped decorate. And I--”

Angel smiles at Niffty. “I love it.”

She beams and Angel looks around the room and notices a very empty spot where a cake should be. He lets out a puff of air.

Charlie notices the change in his face and her face falls. “I’m sorry, Angel.”

“Now, now!” Alastor sings out as he appears from the shadows. “This is a birthday party and there is no frowning at a party!”

He pinches Charlie’s cheek and she forces a smile.

“Hey, asshole,” Angel calls out. “She’s feeling rough. Leave her be.”

“Would that be any way to talk to someone who helped plan your party?” The Radio Demon says, an ever-present smile on his face.

With a snap of his fingers, a cake appears on the table. It’s 10” in diameter, pink, covered in a spider motif, with a spider web from frosting on the top, and “Happy Birthday” elegantly scrolled in the middle.

Angel balks. “Uh,” he coughs out. “Thanks, Smiles.”

“You are more than welcome!” An audience cheers from Alastor’s microphone and there are eye rolls around the room.

Husk walks over with a martini glass with pink and blue liquid, a sugared rim, and topped with cotton candy. He smiles. “A special cocktail for the birthday boy.”

Angel takes it and sips gingerly. He smiles. “This is amazing, Whiskers!”

Husk narrows his eyes in false anger, but his smile gives him away.

The group migrates to the couch and the conversation becomes lively. Fat Nuggets finds his way to his owner, Niffty perches on Alastor’s shoulders, and Vaggie sits close to Charlie. They laugh and share their favorite memories of Angel, much to his chagrin.

After half an hour and three cotton candy martinis, Charlie jumps up and claps her hands once. “Okay!” She looks at Angel. “Would you like to do cake or presents first?”

“Cake,” Angel says decidedly.

Lucifer dims the lights and ignites the candles on the cake with a flick of his wrist.

“Show off,” Angel murmurs under his breath.

“I heard that!”

“Dad!” Charlie admonishes, ushering Angel to the table with the cake and sitting him down in a chair.

Vaggie pulls out her phone and the group sings.

Angel smiles and blows out his candles. He wishes for freedom but is only in his thoughts for mere seconds as Lucifer turns the lights back on and Charlie is cutting the cake.

Angel gets the first piece and the group waits until the first bite is taken before they join.

“This is delicious,” Angel moans.

“Surprised?” Alastor asks, smiling.

“Well, yeah,” Vaggie answers for Angel.

“It was my mother’s recipe.” Alastor taps his head, indicating he had the recipe memorized.

They finish their cake and migrate to the couches. Angel sits cautiously and is handed a small box, four inches wide and two inches tall.

To my favorite loser

-Husker

Angel opens the box. It was a custom deck of cards with pictures from Voxtagram-- one of him with Charlie, one of him and Fat nuggets, one of the whole crew after Sir Pentious’ first week-- Angel Dust was glaring the whole time-- and one of him and Husk after they had bonded.

“I know that you’ll memorize the cards and it will be even easier to count this deck, but--” Angel cuts Husk off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Thanks, Husk,” Angel whispers. “I love them.” He smiles. “But we--” he points a finger between himself and the cat demon, “are never playing with them.”

Husk laughs brightly at Angel’s smirk.

Angel’s heart felt a little lighter. Maybe this won’t be so bad, he thought. He appreciated the gift, knowing how much time and effort Husk had put into it.

Vaggie hands him a small, rectangular package. He opens it gingerly and takes out a necklace.

It’s gold with a short chain, M <3 A, in the middle. Two gold letters and one rose gold heart.

Angel’s heart stutters. He knew instantly that they were the initials for Anthony and Molly.

“How--” he asks but is cut off by another present thrust in his arms.

Charlie smiles brightly.

Angel opens the package carefully, now wary of presents.

He opens a plain white box and sees a carousel with four horses on gold poles. The top and bottom are pink and white striped with gold motifs decorating the edges and a gold flag at the top.

“Turn it over,” Charlie encourages.

Angel does and looks blankly at the knob before turning it. He releases the knob, and “Moonlight Serenade” by Glen Miller, his mother’s favorite song, starts playing. Not the usual music-box noise, either. A real recording.

He gulps.

His heart stops and then starts again, pumping faster. His eyes dart to Charlie and his heart breaks. He blinks several times, trying to gather his thoughts; trying to stop the tears from falling.

Husker notices and there is another martini in Angel’s hand in an instant.

Charlie’s smile falters and she looks concerned. She looks at Vaggie nervously.

Angel asks, “How do you know about my human life?”

Lucifer clears his throat and blushes. “I may or may not have peaked at your human life," he says, dragging out the first 'may'.

Angel guffaws. “You can do that?!”

“I’m the King of Hell,” Lucifer snorts. “And a fallen angel. I have powers.”

Angel rolls his eyes, but his breath is taken away when Lucifer opens a portal and Angel’s human life plays in black in white, like an old film. Him taking his first steps, learning how to ride a bike, giggling with Molly, his first day of school, his first friend; all on display, conjuring up memories and feelings he thought he’d forgotten and repressed.

Angel tears up. “Gee,” he chokes out but doesn’t continue because the images shift to Molly.

She’s crying at Angel’s funeral and Angel stands up, yelling at Lucifer.

“You think I wanna see that?” he screams.

“Patience, Angel Dust,” Lucifer chides in a non-negotiable tone.

Angel sits, but crosses both sets of arms, ready to stand up and storm out at any given moment.

The images shift to a man comforting Molly: a mutual friend, Thomas, after Molly faints.

The movie forwards to Molly and Thomas’ wedding.

Angel tears up. “She looks so beautiful.”

“And happy,” Charlie says gently.

“And happy,” Angel echoes softly.

The movie shifts again, but now it’s in color. There are two children on the screen, laughing.

Angel sits up. “Who’s that?”

Lucifer can’t help the sigh that comes out of his mouth. “Your niece and nephew.”

The movie stops and Angel stands up, going toward the images, and tries to touch it, but his hand goes through. He pulls both sets of arms around him and looks at Lucifer forlornly.

Lucifer’s heart breaks. He can relate. The “what if” can be too much sometimes. “Your niece, her name is Mary.” Lucifer smiles brightly and more images of Mary flit through the portal. She’s laughing with her twin, taking her first steps, learning how to ride her bike.

Angel smiles ruefully. “And the boy?” he whispers.

Lucifer clears his throat. “Anthony Martin the Second.” It’s soft and Angel almost didn’t hear the name.

He turns around slowly and can’t help the tear that leaks out of his eyes. He swipes at them quickly and looks around the room. Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor are all engaged in the movie and don’t see. Angel locks eyes with Husk and is given a knowing nod. Angel blushes to the top of his head.

He looks back at Lucifer. “So I have a niece and a nephew.” He smiles.

Lucifer continues the movie, showing Molly and Thomas growing older while the twins grow up. The group watches as Anthony and Mary get married and start their own lives. There is an Anthony Martin the third, then an Anthony Martin the fourth.

Angel’s eyes get wider. “Wow. I didn’t realize how much I was idolized.” He spits out the last word.

Charlie places a hand on Angel’s shoulder. “Your sister loved you and talked highly of you.”

Angel grimaces, but his face softens when he sees his sister on her deathbed.

Angel gets as close to the portal as he can without going through it. Fat Nuggets nudges at Angel Dust’s feet and is picked up. Angel hugs him closely.

Molly looks at her children and grandchildren, smiling until she falls unconscious.

“She passed away ten years ago,” Lucifer offers gently. “She went straight to heaven.”

Angel looks forlorn again. “Sorry, Molls,” he whispers, accent dropping just slightly. He wipes his eyes and turns toward his friends. “Thank you,” he says, voice warbling. “Val was such an ass today--”

Angel is cut off when Charlie throws her arms around him and hugs him tightly. “We love you so much, Anthony,” she says, her voice also unsteady. “I just wanted to give you something good.”

Angel hugs back with a fierceness that Charlie didn’t expect. Fat Nuggets protests and drops to the ground, looking plussed by the intrusion.

Angel likes that Charlie uses his real name. They hug for a long while, everyone quietly watching.

Lucifer snaps, and the banner changes to say, “Happy birthday, Anthony!”

Lucifer’s heart swells with pride as he looks at his daughter. He did raise a wonderful little girl-- no, woman.

Angel is still hugging Charlie when “Moonlight Serenade” plays through the portal.

He turns and sees his mom dancing in the living room, holding a small boy—his lip quivers.

He turns and sees his friends standing in front of him, small, hesitant smiles on their faces.

Lucifer hands him a DVD and smiles knowingly. Angel takes it and hugs it to his chest before setting it with the rest of his presents.

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank all of you.”

Then Anthony walks over to Charlie. “My lady,” he says in an exaggerated accent, bowing to the Princess. “May I have this dance?”

Charlie chuckles and curtsies. “Of course,” she replied in the same exaggerated accent.

[flutistbyday2020]

Piece By Piece (rewrite)

If you haven't read my original, this isn't too different. I just added one scene.

Posted Nov 17, 2021

Want to find more of my works? Use the tag #flutistbydaywrites on my page to find ALL of my writings.

Want to add yourself to my tag list? Go HERE. I will no longer manually add tags!!!!!! I’m not even sorry about that.

Lots of love,

RED.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: this particular piece is a one-shot, but I plan on turning it into a short fic. This is a Song Fic, Based on “Piece By Piece”, sung by the lovely Kelly Clarkson. Check out the song before reading this and it’ll mean that much more. I’m honestly tearing up as I write this because the song resonates too deeply with me.

All characters belong to Pixelberry and the song belongs to Kelly Clarkson.

Please ignore all spelling and grammatical errors as I write all of my stuff on my phone!

I hope you enjoy this.

Word count: 2600ish.

Lots of love,

Red.

——-

Riley was six years old when her father left her. She remembers the day as if it happened yesterday. She remembers his bag on the floor; she remembers how hard it clattered and how it scared her.

Riley was ten when she was a ward of the state. She felt nothing but pain and hate in her little heart; no foster parents could make her feel safe and loved, so she bounced from house to house, never staying somewhere for more than three months. Her father called twice a year: once on Christmas Day and once on her birthday. She always told him she was happy and okay. He didn’t care anyhow.

Riley was smart; she never needed to study to get good grades. She feared nothing and no one. The teachers let her do her own thing. They knew that she had to heal on her own time.

Riley was sixteen when she was emancipated from the state. She dropped out of high school but perused her diploma online. Riley was two months from eighteen when she graduated high school and never looked back. She had invited her father to spend some time with her to celebrate, but her invitation came back with a “Return to Sender” stamp.

Riley was nineteen when she had her first apartment in New York City. She had spent a little under a year homeless; bouncing between shelters and living within the homeless communities. She had literally—in every sense of the word—lucked into a job as an intern for a local magazine company. She happened to be standing in front of the CEO of New York Weekly” in a Starbucks when ordering a coffee with money she had earned by cleaning houses, a job that she had just stumbled upon a month ago. She had been wearing clothes gifted to her by the family whose house she cleaned— they were rich and bought designer clothes and they loved Riley, so they took care of her. Standing at this particular Starbucks had been fate. Money that she had just been given, clothes that were gifted, and timing that had been orchestrated by the universe were all random factors that lead to this job.

This literal stroke of luck had led to her internship, then lead to a full-time position, then to an apartment, which was something Riley never dreamed of. The CEO of New York Weekly had been enamored with Riley the moment he set his eyes on her. Not in a romantic way, though. In a way that a father loves a daughter. It took Ted six months to convince Riley that not everyone was out to get her. Shortly after hiring Riley, he found she was homeless and rented out an apartment for her, rent-free for a year, on the terms that Riley signed a three-year contract. He handed her the keys to a new life, and Riley Brooks never looked back. She celebrated her twentieth birthday in her new apartment with coworkers who had fallen in love with Riley. She was hopeful and ready for a new life.

———

Four-and-a-half years after Riley set foot in New York, she felt whole for the first time since her father left. She had found a rhythm in her job, two life-long friends, and healing.

She had reached out to her father once on social media shortly before her twentieth birthday, but he never responded. Claire and Lindsey helped her heal and move on with her life. There was never anyone special for Riley, though. She had given up on that a long time ago.

Claire, Lindsey, and Riley were celebrating their collective birthdays, being as they were born on January 23rd, 24th, and 25th, respectively. They loved it. “Soul sisters”, they called themselves.

It was on this particular night in January that Riley was tipsy when she ran into a bachelor party. She caught the eye of a tall, muscular blond with smoldering eyes that night and fell in love with a Crown Prince.

She took a chance on him, not knowing how it would end. It was a whirlwind romance that ended with her as Queen, just on the cusp of twenty-six.

Riley adapted to the life of a queen easily—nothing was harder than being a ward of the state, then being homeless in NYC. Cordonia fell in love with Riley the moment she set foot on the soil. Liam stood by her during everything, never faltering in his faith. They only argued once— about children.

Liam and Riley had been married all of three weeks when he brought it up to her.

“I’ve never wanted children, Liam!” she hissed at her king.

“Why not, Riley?” His eyes were soft and understanding, but he was confused. He had briefly brought up children when they were engaged, and Riley had laughed. He thought it was just nerves.

“Because—” Tears welled up in Riley’s eyes. She never talked about him. She never talked about her father. Not even to Claire or Lindsey. She left that life behind the day she signed her name on the lease agreement. “— because, Liam, I never want to hurt my children.” Tears poured freely now. Riley’s wound was open, so many years later and Riley felt like she was six again, watching her father leave.

Liam scooped Riley up in his arms, kissing her forehead and temple. “Riley,” he cooed, “I can't imagine you ever hurting anyone.” He sat down in a large armchair with Riley in his hold. He held her tightly.

“You don’t understand, Liam,” she wailed. She felt like a child.

“So tell me,” he whispered.

Riley sobbed quietly for almost ten minutes before she could speak.

“Liam— I— I was a foster child before I lived in New York,” she offered as an explanation.

Liam was confused. “I don’t understand what that has to do with anything, Riley.” He tightened his arms around her reflexively.

“Liam,” she whispered after several more minutes, “I never thought I would love anyone the way I loved you. Do you remember how scared I was when you proposed?”

Liam laughed at the memory. “I thought you were going to run away from me, love.” His hand found her chin and he made Riley face him. She had that same deer-in-the-headlights look again. “I honestly didn’t think you’d walk down the aisle,” he admitted sadly.

Riley looked down, talking herself down from bolting.

“Liam, my father left me on my grandmother’s doorstep when I was six. He broke me. I swore I’d never love another man again.” Her shoulders slumped and Liam wipes away her tears. He didn’t speak, though. “When I moved to New York, I was homeless. It was sheer dumb luck that I landed the magazine gig. Ted, he was amazing.” She smiled sadly at the memory. “He saw right through my bullshit and offered me a job, an apartment, and a family. Everyone at NYW loved me in ways I never thought I could love again. Between them and my sisters, I healed enough . . .” Riley trailed off, knowing Liam could figure out the rest.

Not enough to love a man or children, Liam thought. He offered Riley a smile and a chaste kiss. “But I came along,” he pointed out.

Riley laughed loudly. “But you came along. And you swept me off my feet. You pieced me back together, Liam Rys, King of Cordonia.”

Liam beamed. “One could say the same about you, Riley Rys, Queen of Cordonia and my heart.”

“Liam—” Riley paused, not knowing what to say. “Liam, my father wrote me a letter and it arrived shortly after we announced our engagement. That’s why I was so mopey.”

Liam kissed Riley, trying to kiss the pain out of his wife’s eyes. He kissed her fiercely and protectively. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, quietly.

“Honestly, I didn’t know how to bring it up. ‘Hey, Liam, my piece of shit father wants something to do with me now that I’m a duchess.’” She made a face at the thought. “I didn’t want you to... I don’t know, beat him up?”

Liam chuckled. His head was now resting on Riley’s. “For you, My Queen, anything.”

Riley gave an exasperated grunt.

“What if you decide you don’t love me anymore?”

This made Liam laugh loudly, only irritating Riley. She half-heartedly smacked his shoulder.

“Riley Rys, I will never stop loving you. Not even after my heart stops beating. I will wait for you at the gates of heaven until you are with me again.”

Riley looked up at Liam. “Okay,” she whispered.

“Okay?”

“Okay, we can have children. As many as you want.”

Liam didn’t need to hear anything else. He picked up his queen and laid her in their bed. They made love with a purpose that night— Riley apologizing for keeping secrets and Liam washing away any fear or doubt she ever had about their relationship.

Not even a year later, Riley was pregnant with the Crown Prince or Princess. She felt fluttering in her stomach one day at lunch and dropped her glass. It shattered loudly, causing momentary panic. Bastien bolted to her side, afraid Riley was hurt. Liam was afraid for the baby.

“Your Majesty!” Bastien cried, eyes searching the room for any signs of danger.

“Riley, what is it?” He pleaded.

Riley’s hands were gripped on her stomach and she was looking down at it, not acknowledging anything.

Once he determined there was no danger in the room, Bastien focused on his Queen. She still had a death grip on her stomach. “Your Majesty, I implore you! Please tell us what’s wrong.” Bastien was nervous.

“Here,” Riley said without looking up, holding her hand out to Bastien. Bastien apprehensively held out his hand.

Liam looked to Bastien, but Bastien shook his head. He had no idea.

Riley yanked on Bastien’s hand, pulling him to her. Lord have mercy, Riley is strong, he thought. Riley took Bastien’s hand, placed it on her stomach firmly, never once looking up. Then he felt it. A little flutter. He laughed. His heart was happy for Riley and Liam. “Your Majesty,” he said coolly. “Maybe we should let His Majesty feel.”

“Oh!” Riley said, suddenly snapping out of her Revere. “Of course! I’m so sorry, Liam! I had to let Bastien know not to call an ambulance.”

With just as much force, she yanked Liam’s hand and set it on her stomach. Liam’s eyes lit up momentarily before tears welled. “Our baby,” he whispered.

“Our baby,” Riley agreed.

They stayed in their little bubble just long enough for Bastien to take out his phone and snap a quick picture— Liam looked up at him just as he put his phone away. Busted. Bastien smiled guiltily, but Liam mouthed thank you before turning back to Riley.

When Riley was in labor, Liam never left her side. It wasn’t easy labor. She was edging on preeclampsia and was under the careful eye of several doctors. The epidural did nothing to ease Riley’s contractions. She screamed and cursed while grasping Liam’s hand for support. Liam was in pain, too, that day and long night. He hated seeing Riley like this.

Their baby came hell or high water, completely healthy.

Maxwell, Hana, and Drake never left the hospital either. They were allowed in the room at first, but Riley was too uncomfortable after only about an hour. Maxwell paced, Hana anxiously wrung her hands, and Drake wished he was halfway down a bottle of whiskey.

“Drake!” Liam’s voice boomed into the waiting room, scaring everyone. Drake sprung up, running to his best friend.

Drake saw Liam’s face— anxious and upset, stained with tears.

“It’s Riley,” he started, fumbling his words. So unlike him. “She’s preeclamptic. She’s bleeding out. They’re taking her to an OR and I can’t be in there by myself. Please,” he begged Drake. Please come with me so I don’t have to be alone if Riley dies. He didn’t have to say that out loud for Drake to understand.

They donned sterile scrubs, caps, and booties in record time. Riley was already under anesthesia and open on the table when they were allowed in. Liam darted in without acknowledging his security.

Bastien gripped Drake’s shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. “You have to stay calm for him, Drake.” Bastien’s voice was muffled, but Drake nodded in understanding. “It’s not pretty, Drake,” Bastien warned.

Drake nudged past Bastien. Despite the warning, he was nauseated at the sight before him. His stomach lurched. His eyes looked up to see Liam sitting at Riley’s head, not as a king, but as a broken man whose wife was in danger. He went to Liam and put his hand on Liam’s shoulder. There was a curtain separating Riley’s chest from her abdomen so that her husband and friend couldn’t see what was happening.

Time seemed to stop. Liam couldn’t focus on anything besides his wife’s lifeless form in front of him and Drake couldn’t focus on anything besides Liam.

“Your Majesty,” a Doctor said, after what seemed like hours.

Liam didn’t hear her. He was staring at Riley. Drake nudged him. His head snapped up, confusion on his face. Drake looked in the direction of Doctor, holding Liam’s baby. Liam’s eyes followed Drake’s.

Liam stood, a king once again. He strode over to the doctor and took his child out of her arms. The doctor smiled brightly at Liam.

“Congratulations!”

Liam smiled brightly as he looked down at his daughter. My god, she is beautiful, he thought. She looks just like Riley. He kissed her forehead and she whimpered. His heart swelled. Her eyes fluttered open for half a second— bright blue like Riley’s, not brown like Liam’s.

“Baby is healthy, Your Majesty. We have to stop the bleeding in Her Majesty’s abdomen and close her up. You may stay, but the baby needs to go.”

“Thank you,” Liam responded, not looking up from his princess. He walked over to Drake, pride radiating off him. “Would you like to hold your niece, Drake? She needs to meet Hana and Maxwell and I must stay with Riley.”

“Niece?!” Drake exclaimed! “Her?” Drake held out his arms, love overpowering nerves. Drake cradled his niece, the Crown Princess, and realized that if he felt this protective of her, Liam must feel even more so. “Do you have a name?” He mused.

Liam had migrated back to Riley’s head. He sat so that his body protected her upper half. He couldn’t protect her from herself, but he could shield the outside world from looking at his wife.

“Mary Eleanor Louise,” he murmured, briefly looking back at Drake. He smiled. “After her great grandmothers and my mother. Her nickname will be Ella.” Liam looked back at his wife. He wasn’t worried about his child at the moment; he knew Drake would never let harm come to his daughter.

Drake made his way out of the OR, holding precious Ella in his arms. His nerves suddenly took over again and he was afraid he was going to drop the princess. He stood outside the OR door, gathering himself. He was trying not to worry about Riley and he was trying not to worry about dropping Ella.

Bastien noticed his discomfort. “May I?” He asked. Bastien didn’t wait for permission before adjusting Drake’s arms and posture. “You are holding the heir to the throne, Drake Walker. Don’t forget it.” His tone was stern but his eyes were soft.

“Never,” Drake whispered reverently.

PERMA//FOREVER

@kingliam2019

@glaimtruelovealways

@drakewalker04

@kimmiedoo5

@imthequeenofcordonia

@texaskitten30

@dcbbw

@cordonia-gothqueen

@custaroonie

@shz256

@hopefulmoonobject

@sanchita012

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@we-lazystudent

@losingbraincellseveryday

@mom2000aggie

@jamzm

@gkittylove99

@neotericthemis

@busywoman

[flutistbyday2020]

Draft #2 -- 16 Candles

No idea what the prompt was, but here is the result. I have no plans to finish this.

Set in THR AU

Liam x MC

No warnings; just absolute fluff.

Word count: 581

Riley Brooks had never had a big birthday celebration.

She had several birthday parties, but none of them had more than six to ten people in attendance. This was a shame because Riley loved being the center of attention. She was never going to say anything, of course, because that’s how she was raised. A lady never complained.

The last “big” birthday party she had was her sixteenth, and that was almost a decade ago. She secretly hoped Liam would throw a bash for her, but she didn’t want to seem ungrateful so she never said a word.

Her birthday was January 25th, which fell on a Saturday this year. She was hoping the whole court would show up.

Riley was deeply engrossed in the movie Sixteen Candles late one evening when Liam came in from a long day. She had her favorite blanket wrapped around her artfully, her lap full of animals and their two-year-old, Mary.

“I never pegged you as an 80’s film lover,” Liam said to his wife, smiling.

Riley jumped at the sudden noise, startling the cat and waking their toddler.

“Jesus, Liam. You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days,” Riley whispered as she pulled Mary closer to her chest, trying to comfort her.

Liam laughed and took Mary from his wife. “Hello, Princess. Are you ready for bed?”

Riley melted at the voice that Liam reserved just for Mary.

Mary nodded and wrapped her arms around her father's neck, leaning into him. Liam left the room, singing her the same lullaby he’d been singing since the day Mary was born.

Riley’s heart rate had settled and she soon was absorbed in the movie once again. When Liam returned, he sat next to Riley, pulling her into his lap. She snuggled close to him, his warmth making her suddenly drowsy. She loved being in Liam’s arms. She felt safe from the world, even her own heart, in his hands.

“Long day, my love?” Liam’s voice was low.

“Not so much as an emotional one,” Riley answered, her volume matching Liam’s.

“What’s that?” Concern laced his voice.

Riley pointed to the screen as an answer.

“I don’t understand how those are connected.”

“Riley,” Liam pleaded, “please tell me what’s on your mind.”

Riley sighed dramatically. “I’ve never had a big birthday party, Liam. I know it seems silly, but it’s a big deal to me.” She looked up at her King, hoping he wouldn’t tease her. “My last boyfriend said that birthday parties were frivolous, and there was no point in celebrating another year passed.” Riley pouted at the memory.

That was what made Liam laugh. Riley narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t be mad, love,” Liam chuckled. “You are ridiculously adorable when you’re feeling miffed.” Liam kisses the tip of Riley’s nose. “If it’s a big birthday party you want, I will make it happen,” Liam said, smiling.

Riley searched his face, finding nothing but sincerity.

“Okay,” she finally whispered.

Liam had a way of assuaging her without making her feel like a child. “Have you ever seen this movie?” She asked, nodding at the TV.

“No,” Liam admitted.

“Well, we are changing that right now. And after, we’re watching The Princess Bride.” Riley smiled as she stood. She turned the movie back to the main menu and handed the remote to Liam. “I’m going to the restroom and then I’ll come back. Will you phone the staff and get some popcorn for us?”

_____-------_____-----_____-----_____-----

WACKY DRABBLES

@emceesynonymroll

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PERMA//FOREVER

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[flutistbyday2020]

If I Die Young

A one shot based off the song, “If I Die Young” by The Band Perry (but I recommend the cover by Naya Rivera).

Pairing: Dean x Fem!Reader, Dean x Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak. Pretty PG 13.

Hunters don’t die from old age or natural causes.

They die from wounds, during a hunt gone wrong, self-sacrifice, or a bar brawl turned nasty.

They definitely don’t die from cancer, and they definitely don’t die at twenty-seven.

So, when you had a bruise that just refused to heal, you didn’t think anything of it, but Sammy insisted that you go to the doctors.

[[MORE]]

You took your fake ID and your fake insurance cards and sat in the waiting room, your small, clammy hand in Sam’s sure, large one.

Your leg bounced nervously. You hated the doctors. You hated hospitals. You hated feeling trapped.

“YN,” Sam chided gently.

Your leg’s movement ceased.

“It’ll be okay,” Dean encouraged.

You shot a glare to the elder Winchester brother.

“Jordan?” A nurse called.

Sam and Dean stood before you realized you were Jordan.

The nurse smiled at you and your boys as you went through the door that separated the waiting room and the exam rooms.

She made you get on the scale, she made you stand against the wall to get your height— you were short and the brothers never let you forget it. She sat you down on the exam table before she took your vitals.

The nurse asked standard questions and you answered. Dean blushed when she asked if you could be pregnant. You snorted.

The nurse left and the doctor came. “Jordan?” She asked and you nodded. “I’m Dr. Lexi Grey.”

They took vials and vials of blood— Sam held your hand and kept your eyes focused on him and not the needles.

They took X-Rays and MRIs and every other scan in the book.

It took almost three weeks to get the results back.

Cancer.

You laughed at the irony of a perfectly healthy twenty-seven year old getting cancer. Stage four cancer.

“Six good months if we don’t do chemo or maybe eighteen if we do chemo,” Dr. Grey said.

“We can do chemo—” Sam had started.

“You’re still young—” Dean had said.

You shut them down. You weren’t going to fight it. Your grandfather had died from cancer and you didn’t recognize the man in the coffin by the end of the ordeal.

“Not happenin, boys,” you said.

Not long after your diagnosis, you began feeling the effects. You were tired, all the time. You didn’t have an appetite most of the time. You lost weight.

But you were still happy.

Sam and Dean unconsciously took on less and less, spending more time with you.

You traveled just to travel.

The first place you went? The World’s Largest Ball of Twine.

It was a three hour drive from the bunker and you bounced with anticipation the whole way there.

“This is what you wanted to see?” Dean asked, hands on hips, watching Sammy very carefully take a picture of you.

You stood in front of the ball, arms outstretched and a goofy smile on your face.

You humored Sam, too. He wanted to visit the historical town of Lindsborg, so the three of you drove there, all singing along to classic rock the whole time.

But your favorite place that you visited? That was the Boot Hill Museum in Dodge City.

Dean dressed up like a cowboy and participated in a fake shoot-out.

He bought you a hat that said “World’s Cutest Cowgirl” and you proudly wore it.

You had hundreds of pictures from these trips and you insisted on making a scrapbook.

Dean complained on the outside, but you knew he’d do anything to make you happy.

Sammy was awfully adept at decoupage.

“When I die, I’ll turn into a rainbow. That way you’ll know I’m in heaven,” you said one night during dinner. “That way you’ll know I’m safe.” You nodded in affirmation at your statement.

The cancer was spreading. You could feel it in your soul.

So you made your boys— Cas included— eat one big meal with you once a week.

Dean tried to lighten the mood. “Who says you’re going to heaven?”

“I did,” Cas deadpanned, glaring at Dean as if it were stupid to think anything else would happen to your soul.

That made Sam laugh and you smile.

It made Dean glare.

“I don’t want you to die,” Dean said after he’d snuck into your bedroom way past what could be considered a decent hour.

He had been crying and his cheeks were still wet.

You didn’t say anything. You just held your arms out.

He accepted your embrace and you cried and together.

“I love you, sweetheart. Always have. Was too stupid and too scared to say anything. But now—”

You cut him off with a kiss. “Now we have to face the music.”

Dean spent every night with you after that.

“I want a hunter’s funeral, obviously,” you said.

Sam and Dean had fought this— they didn’t want to plan your funeral.

“But I want my ashes spread at sea. And you have to sing to me!” Tears sprung from your eyes.

“Of course,” Sammy said.

“What song?” Dean asked.

“‘Hey Jude’, please,” you whispered, voice thick with emotion. “At dawn.”

“Put on your fed suits.” You were rambling now. “Throw my pearls into the ocean.”

“What happens when I die?” You asked Cas.

“Your soul will separate from your body. I expect that Tessa will be your reaper,” Castiel explained in his gravelly voice. “Tessa will take you to the threshold and I will greet you there. I will take you to heaven.”

“What’s heaven like?”

“It’s different for everyone. For Ash, it’s the roadhouse. For Bobby, it’s watching the boys grow up before they were truly hunters. It’s your best memories, over and over.”

“Oh.”

Your mother visited you in your dreams. “I’ll collect you in sixty days’ time.”

“Dean,” you said the next night after passionate love making.

“Yeah, Princess?”

“I wanna get married. Next week.”

Dean threw his head back in laughter. “Of course.”

“And I wanna drive Baby.”

Dean laughed again. “Okay.”

The wedding was small and haphazard and perfect. Sammy was the best man and Castiel was the maid of honor, much to his chagrin.

You bought a short, white dress from a second hand store and the boys wore their Fed suits.

You bought a cheap bouquet from the nearest florist and went barefoot. You had your grandmother’s pearls around your neck.

Castiel was kind enough to transport you to a private beach for the ceremony.

Dean cried, just a little.

You could feel the beginning of the end two weeks before your mother said she’d be there.

“This is it,” you told your boys at the weekly meal.

Everyone cried, including Cas.

You spent your last week in a special hospital bed— you were in pain and needed an IV for the pain meds. Dean helped you go to the bathroom as much as he could.

Your eyes were heavy and you couldn’t fight it.

“I love you, Dean, Sammy. So much.”

Sammy kissed your forehead and Dean kissed your lips.

You fell into slumber and neither of your boys left you until your body was cold.

When you opened your eyes, you were separated from your body. You watched the scene before you.

Dean carefully laid your body on the pyre— the one that you and he had constructed. Therapy you called it.

Sammy lit a match and tossed it.

They watched until the flames burned out and Dean fell asleep outside.

Tessa didn’t say a word— she just touched your arm and you followed her into the light.

As promised, Castiel was there. You threw your arms around him and hugged him fiercely.

He returned the affection.

When you entered heaven, you didn’t know what to expect.

You were wearing your wedding dress and you could feel your wedding band on your left hand.

You heard a voice you thought you’d never hear again.

“YN!” Bobby boomed.

“Bobby?” You cried.

You ran to him and threw your arms around him. Tears fell freely from your eyes and sobs fell freely from your lips.

“I know, YN. But they’ll be here before you know it.”

Bobby held you until the tears subsided.

“I’ll visit you often,” Castiel promised as he turned.

You jogged to catch up with him. It was easy because you didn’t need to breathe now.

“Cas, how do I make a rainbow? I promised Sam and— and Dean I’d let them know I was safe.”

Cas nodded for you to follow him. He walked until there was a clearing in the cloud and it felt like you were dropping, but Cas was flying your soul down to earth.

Dean and Sam were collecting your cremains from the pyre and Dean was clutching your pearls.

“I’ll open the clouds,” Cas started, “and you’ll use the purity of your soul to refract the light from the sun. Focus on Dean.”

The clouds separated and you closed your eyes. You could feel the sun moving through you. When you opened your eyes, there was a rainbow that shined on your boys. No, you shined on your boys. You were the rainbow.

Dean fell to his knees and cried. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he choked out.

You visited Sam and Dean when they drove to the ocean. They found a secluded cliff to spread your ashes.

Castiel made sure the wind blew toward the ocean.

He landed next to Dean.

Dean turned and pulled Cas into a hug.

“Thank you for being here.”

“YN is here, too,” Cas said, pointing to where your soul was.

Dean turned and you focused on making yourself into a rainbow again.

Sam chuckled. “Hey, YN. Miss you.”

Dean walked closer to your rainbow and reached out to touch it—you.

When his fingers touched your colors, you gasped. You could feel his fingers.

The rainbow was solid—no, you were solid. Dean laughed when his fingers didn’t move through the light.

“Miss you, sweetheart.”

He placed a kiss at where he thought your forehead should be and turned.

He opened the bag of your cremains and began singing.

“Hey Jude, don't make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better

Remember to let her into your heart

Then you can start to make it better.”

Sammy and Cas joined.

“Hey Jude, don't be afraid

You were made to go out and get her

The minute you let her under your skin

Then you begin to make it better.”

Dean turned the bag and your ashes spread in the wind. Tears rolled down his face.

Sammy grabbed his shoulder and he cried, too.

“Hey Jude, don't let me down

She has found you, now go and get her

Remember to let her into your heart

Then you can start to make it better

Better, better, better.”

“Na, na, na, na, na-na-na na

Whoo-ooh-oh

Hey Jude, hey Jude

Hey Jude, make it, make it

Make it, Jude

Oh, Jude.”

When Dean died, Castiel came to you immediately. “I had to pull some strings— I owe Naomi— but Dean will be here soon.”

You ran to the gates and waited impatiently.

Tessa could barely keep up with Dean because of how fast he was running.

“Y/N!” He called when he saw you.

You ran to him and he picked you up in a tight hug. He squeezed you hard before he began kissing you.

It had been five years, and damn, did you miss those lips.

“Hey Cas? Can you get pregnant in heaven?” You asked. You couldn’t explain it, but you felt pregnant.

“Y/N, you were pregnant when you died. Now that your soulmate is here, the baby will grow and age until they are eighteen, then stop growing.”

Dean almost shit himself.

When Sammy died eight months later, Dean had felt it. He waited by the gates, holding you in a casual embrace.

Sammy pulled you into a bearhug and wrestled Dean to the ground.

“Momma?” A small voice called.

Sam’s eyes snapped up— Bobby—Bobby Singer— was holding a child that looked exactly like Dean.

“I was pregnant when I died,” you explained.

Sam shook his head and pulled Bobby into an amended bear hug.

“Who’s this?” He asked as he took the child from his stand in dad.

“I’m Mary!” The little girl exclaimed. “And you’re my uncle Sammy!” The girl wrapped her arms around Sam’s neck.

Yep, he was a goner.

Dean had died a hunter— scarified himself for Sammy. Sammy had died a hunter— hunt turned nasty. So it didn’t matter that you died a civvy way, as Dean joked.

But who cared?

You had your boys and your best girls and that’s all you needed in your forever.

**************

(Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in my future Spn one-shots!)

Tagging my permas.

@glaimtruelovealways

@drakewalker04

@kimmiedoo5

@imthequeenofcordonia

@texaskitten30

@dcbbw

@cordonia-gothqueen

@custaroonie

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@losingbraincellseveryday

@mom2000aggie

[flutistbyday2020]

One Night Standards

Heyyyyyyy. It’s me, Red. No, I’m not dead, believe it or not.

I come bearing a gift— my submission for Wacky Drabble #63. This week’s Drabble is “I’m your [relationship], of course I care.” and will be bolded in the fic.

Wacky Drabbles is hosted by @wackydrabbles and if you want to read the rules, check them out.

This doesn’t follow anything I’ve done—just an angsty one-shot for y’all.

Check out my Masterlist HERE.

Word count: 997

Pairing: Liam x MC.

Unbeta’d. (Has anyone seen @ravenpuff02 lately???)

⚠️ ⚠️⚠️ As always, I’m slapping an 18+ warning on this and calling it a day. ⚠️⚠️⚠️

This is inspired by Ashley McBryde’s “One Night Standards” and the plot loosely follows the lyrics.

The thing about Riley Brooks, is that she was always good for a one night stand. She was sex on legs and a force to be reckoned with.

It happened by pure accident the first time. Liam ran into Riley at a local dive bar. She was dancing with one of her girlfriends when Liam caught her eye.

Of course, she knew who Liam was. Anybody who was on social media knew who Liam was. Liam was the best lawyer in New York, and he had blown off his friends that particular Saturday evening to go to that particular dive bar.

Riley was a dream in painted-on skinny jeans, a tight black top, and Louboutins. Her hair was in a slicked back ponytail and her lipstick matched the soles of her heels.

Liam and Riley chatted over what they thought were ridiculous laws and what they like to do for fun. It was shortly after midnight when Riley placed her hand on Liam‘s elbow and said, “Let’s get out of here.”

Riley was the best lay Liam’s entire life. They spent the night tangled in the sheets, and Liam swore that he could fall in love with this girl.

She was smart and witty, too. She talked about politics and philosophy with Liam until they both fell asleep.

She was gone when he woke up.

The next time, it wasn’t by accident.

Liam waited a week, two weeks, three before finally going back to that dive bar in hopes that Riley still was there. He didn’t want to seem desperate, but hey, he kinda was.

Much to his delight, Riley was there, dancing with yet another girlfriend. Riley noticed when Liam came in and all she did was smirk at him.

They met up week after week for about six months before Liam met Olivia. They married out of convenience and not for love. They didn’t share a life or a bedroom, just a house and a name.

It didn’t matter to Riley, because she had found Drake. She seemed happy enough, and Liam never pushed for details.

Riley and Drake were on again, off again for about a year. When Riley and Drake were off, she was at the bar, waiting for Liam.

She never asked, and she didn’t care, how Liam always happened to know when she and Drake were off. But he was always there with a double scotch, neat.

They always went to the same shitty hotel, they always got the same shitty room, and they never once exchanged numbers.

There was one time when she and Drake had gotten into a huge fight that resulted in Riley crying on Liam’s lap.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m sure you don’t care.”

“I’m your... whatever this is. Of course I care, Riley.”

(Riley didn’t like the term hook up or boyfriend, because that meant commitment, and Riley didn’t do that.)

Liam liked to think that it was a relationship. Riley knew better.

She never asked where Liam‘s ring was, she never asked for more, and she never stayed for more than one night.

He never asked about her latest break up with Drake, he never wanted to push her for more for fear of losing her, and he always woke up to an empty bed.

He once asked her after about two years, “Am I enough for you, Riley?”

Riley had stretched out and laid her head on his chest, lacing her fingers through his. “You are, Liam.”

“I’m leaving her,” Liam declared one night.

Riley rolled her eyes. “I’m not your girlfriend, Liam. I don’t care.”

Liam scoffed. “You and I have more of a relationship than Olivia and I do.”

“And, just like that, the night is over,” Riley sighed. She sat up and started gathering her clothes to get dressed.

“You’re my Cinderella,” Liam whispered.

Riley’s face contorted in a grimace. “Call me what you want if the shoe fits,” she snarled.

Riley finished dressing and turned to Liam. “We had two rules, Liam! Two! Always use protection and leave emotions in the lobby!”

She stormed out without another word but was back at the bar the next week.

When Liam got there, Riley was dancing with another man. Liam saw red.

He very calmly went to the bar and ordered two glasses of scotch, neat. He walked over to Riley and gave her a tight smile.

“Hello, Liam,” she said. “This is Maxwell, a friend from work.”

Maxwell stopped dancing with Riley and looked Liam up and down. He smiled at Riley. “Have fun,” he said.

Riley shook her head and laughed as Maxwell danced away.

Liam held out a drink to Riley and she shook her head.

“Not feeling it today?” Liam asked, immediately concerned.

“Let’s go somewhere quiet,” Riley said as she tugged on Liam’s jacket.

They settled into a corner where it wasn’t quite so loud.

Liam took a swig of his scotch. He looked at Riley and let her do the talking.

Riley’s hands set in her lap and she bit her lip. “I’m pregnant,” she finally spit out.

Liam saw red again. That’s just fan-fucking-tastic, he seethed to himself. He stood and straightened his jacket. “Congratulations,” he hissed as he turned to leave.

“Wait, Liam!” Riley cried as she pulled on his elbow. “Where are you going?”

Liam turned and saw Riley’s eyebrows were knitted together and tears had formed in her eyes.

“I’m assuming you’re breaking up—ending whatever this is,” Liam said, pointing between the two of them. “I take it Drake is the father?”

Riley placed one arm over her chest and gripped her elbow, eyes drifting to the floor. “Liam.” she paused. “I haven’t seen Drake in almost three months. It’s yours.”

All the fight left Liam. “Oh,” he breathed.

Riley gave Liam a tight smile.

“So much for one night standards,” Liam chuckled before taking Riley into his arms and kissing her properly for the first time in their entire relationship.

********************************

(If your username is crossed out, it’s because I couldn’t tag you.)

PERMA

@kingliam2019

@glaimtruelovealways

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@texaskitten30

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WACKY DRABBLES

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[flutistbyday2020]

John Deere Green: Chapter 11

Soooooo uhhhh don’t hate me—

I’m so sorry that this took so long. If you don’t know, I took a spill in April that made me bed-bound for six weeks and my mental health took a nosedive. I’m trying to get better, and part of that is writing.

Unbeta’d cause 🤷🏼‍♀️

Word count: 1539. Short! I know.

Riley’s heart began to pound as she pulled up to Liam’s house. Her heart ached. She felt bad for how she acted around Drake. It wasn’t fair to anyone, especially Liam.

Liam was at the top of the porch stairs when she pulled into his drive. She could see the concern on his face.

Riley parked in her usual spot and waited for Liam. He opened her door and immediately pulled her into a hug.

Riley inhaled his cologne and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

“Are you okay?” Liam whispered. “You worried me.”

“Much better now that you’re in my sights,” Riley said as she backed away from Liam. She nodded her head at her car. “Grabbed you a burger.”

“You are a gift from heaven,” Liam gushed as he swooped into Riley’s car.

Riley laughed. “Come on. Let’s go eat and I can tell you all about that text.”

“So what’s up, Riley?” Liam asked before he shoved more fries into his mouth.

Riley chuckled at him but sighed deeply. Tears stung her eyes. The guilt was eating her alive. “Well, as you know, Drake and I have gotten close lately.”

Liam nodded.

“Last week, I found him in the drive after he’d had a long day and we went to a bar. We played a drinking game, and I got drunk. One thing led to another, and... I kissed Drake.” Guilt was eating Riley alive. She was crying as she spoke. “I’m so, so sorry, Liam. I don’t know why I did it, but it felt right until Drake looked at me. I feel so bad,” she rambled. She was looking down at her hands that were tangled in her lap.

She and Liam sat face-to-face on his bed. He was quiet while Riley talked.

Liam thoughtfully wiped the grease off his hands before putting one under Riley’s chin and lifting her face. “I know, Riley. Drake told me the next day. He said it was all him and not to be mad at you.” He smiled sadly. “I knew you’d tell me when you were ready.”

Riley’s lower lip quivered. “You knew? You aren’t mad?”

Liam moved the food and trash onto his nightstand before taking Riley into his arms. He pulled her onto his lap. “Darling, you have gone from a long-term relationship in New York to an engagement that is short for established couples. You’re allowed to feel dazed. You’re allowed to mess up.” Liam pulled Riley close to him. “I don’t care as long as you don’t do it again.”

Riley nodded and snuggled into the crook of Liam’s neck. “I won’t kiss anyone but you. Promise,” she giggled.

“Good,” Liam said as he looked down at his fiancée. “Love you,” he smiled.

“Love you too,” Riley said as she leaned in to kiss Liam.

Riley snuggled into Liam, all thought of food behind him. He wrapped his arms protectively around her.

“Are you ready for next week?” he asked.

Riley nodded. “Yeah. I feel like I’ve known you forever and this was just meant to happen.” She smiled dreamily. “You’re my own Prince Charming,” she giggled.

Liam acted offended. “If anything, I’m a King.”

This sent Riley into a fit of laughter.

They spent the rest of the evening talking about their wedding, their families, and their future. When Riley left that night, she was more than confident that Liam would never hold that kiss against her and that she was, indeed, marrying the right man.

Liam had bought Riley a 60-acre property on which a gorgeous two-story Victorian-style farmhouse set, draped with a wrap-around. There was a small “in-law” house behind the main house, a swimming pool, a barn, a greenhouse, several flower gardens, and land that had already been tilled for farming.

Liam surprised Riley with pictures of the house and property the night after she confessed her sins of kissing Drake, and she had tears of joy in her eyes as Liam scrolled through his phone.

“It’s more than perfect, Liam,” she sighed as she leaned into him.

“Anything for you, my love,” he responded.

Riley’s bridal shower was on a Wednesday— who would have thought that her social status as Liam’s fiancé meant that she could reserve a fancy hotel on a Wednesday and people would show up?— and almost one hundred women were in attendance. On a Wednesday!

Riley only recognized a handful of the women at her party: her bridesmaids and some of Liam’s friends.

Kiara was dutifully making rounds and introducing Riley to women of her status or just below, in Kiara’s words. You don’t need to know everyone’s names, Riley. Just the ones who will help you find charities.

Riley desperately tried to hold onto reality, but it was hard when one didn’t feel like they belonged. I’m just a waitress from New York, Riley whined to Hana. A waitress who fell for one of the most eligible bachelors in America, Hana had retorted. Riley sent death glares to Hana as she danced away, claiming to do some maid-of-honor duty or something like that.

Riley was glad to see that Madeleine was in attendance— she’d grown close with the woman. She wasn’t nearly as bitchy as some had claimed, and honestly, with the way Leo broke her heart, Riley didn’t blame Maddy one bit.

Madeleine smiled at Riley from across the room, a “come save me from this person” smile, and Riley was more than happy to cooperate.

Riley walked to Madeleine and made a noise of distress, clutching to Madeleine’s arm. “Madeline, my florist just called and said that the roses for my attendants will be more pink than red!” Riley made her voice waiver for dramatic effect, and the woman Madeleine was speaking with let out an honest gasp.

“How horrible!” The woman gasped.

Maddy nodded solemnly. “I’ll call them at once, Riley!”

Madeleine walked away like she had a purpose and Riley looked at the woman. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, you know how us brides can be.”

The woman clasped Riley’s hands. “To a bride, every detail is important. You go fix your flower fiasco, Riley.” The woman nodded in affirmation and Riley nodded back.

“Thank you,” Riley said.

Truth be told, she didn’t even know what colors her flowers would be, or even what kind. Hana and her mother had planned every detail. Riley had given them an idea of what she wanted and found her dream dress. The rest was on the Dream Team, Riley called them.

Riley’s bachelorette party was okay— Riley wasn’t a fan of the party scene.

Hana had ordered the bridal party to bar-hopping, and everyone was buying shots for Riley. Thankfully, most of the patrons were too drunk to notice that the shots the bartenders were pouring were water instead of vodka.

It was nearly two AM when Riley broke down and called her fiancé. She wasn’t drunk by any means, thank you very much, but she had just enough of a buzz to miss Liam.

Riley stumbled out of the bar and plopped on the curb before calling Liam.

He answered quickly. “Riley? Love? Are you okay?”

Riley giggled. “I’m fiiiiiiiine, Liam. Just bored.”

Liam could hear the pout in Riley’s voice. “Isn’t Hana keeping you company?”

Riley snorted. “Hana is playing tonsil hockey with some stranger.” She gagged.

Liam laughed. “How drunk is she?”

Riley whined. “Stop talking about Hana and talk about me!”

This earned another laugh from Liam. “Okay, what about you?”

“Well, for one, I miss you. And, two,” Riley said, but didn’t continue.

“And, two?” Liam prompted.

“I don’t know. I forgot. Come get me,” Riley said pitifully.

“Where are you?”

Riley craned her neck to see the sign of the bar. “Kismet.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

It was the night before the wedding. All of Riley’s things had been moved to her future in-law’s house— they’d stay in the big house until a property had been established for them in a small town just south of Cordonia, Valtoria.

It was just a 15-minute drive from the Rhys homestead, close enough for Liam’s parents to rely on him, but far enough for the couple to find independence.

Riley paced in Hana’s front room. It was well past 11 and Riley should be asleep, but she was just so damn nervous.

Things had been going well with her life. Too well.

Riley was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Riley,” Hana murmured. “I promise everything is going to be okay.”

The knot in Riley’s gut tightened as she shook her head.

Riley pulled out her phone and glanced at the notification bar. She could just call Liam as he said, but he’d probably be asleep by now and—

Her spiraling was stopped by a sharp knock, knock, knock at the door.

Riley’s eyes snapped to Hana.

Hana shrugged. “It’s probably Liam checking on you.”

Riley didn’t consider who else it could be until she had flung the door open, a stupid grin on her face.

The grin fell when she saw who it was.

“Hello, Riley. I think it’s time we talk,” Justin said as he pulled Riley into his arms for a crushing embrace.

***********************

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JOHN DEERE GREEN

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[flutistbyday2020]

Ladder

I am participating in @emceesynonymroll’s wacky Drabbles. This week’s prompt is “Don’t ever do that again” (or something like that) and should be in bold.

Word count: ≠ 1300. OOPS. 💋💋💋

I am going out of my comfort zone and writing in first person instead of third omniscient. What you were about to read may or may not have happened to me recently… Emphasis on the May have. I fell at work and obviously I changed names and whatnot, but this is basically how it went down.

John Deere Green Chapter Nine was just posted and I am working on Ten!!! Love you all.

Also, I am fighting my talk to text because I have a new phone that hasn’t figured out my typing habits yet.

As soon as my foot left the rung of the ladder, I knew that I hadn’t missed it and I was going to land on the ground. I had a moment of clarity— it was almost cartoonish; time stopped just long enough for me to realize what I had done before I fell to the ground. I felt like Wile E coyote.

As soon as I hit the ground, I knew that my knee would never be the same. To be fair, my knee was already messed up, but it hadn’t hurt like this in almost eight years.

Tears stung my eyes, and I felt my pockets for my phone. Liam was in a meeting, and I didn’t know who was around the castle to help me. Mara was on vacation; she would be the first person I called otherwise. Sobs began racking my body because of how much pain I was in. I had to collect my shit before someone came looking for me, because Liam would have my head if he found out that I didn’t get help immediately.

[[MORE]]

I knew it wouldn’t be able to pull myself up off the ground, so I pulled my phone out and searched my contacts. Should I call Bastien? Would he alert Liam? Could he be subtle? I don’t know. I’m gonna call him. My heart pounded as the line rang.

“ Your majesty? What is it?“

My voice was thick with tears. I fell and I can’t get off the ground. Please come help me.” I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped.

“Where are you?” His voice was laced with worry and urgency.

“I am in our quarters. In the master closet. Don’t tell Liam. Not until I know how bad it is.”

“Your Majesty—”

“That’s an order, Bastien.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

I hung up the phone and gingerly pulled up my pant leg. My knee was already bruising, along with my shin. It was already swollen as well. I knew that I would have to go to the doctor and get an x-ray to determine that nothing was broken. More tears fell down my face, but these were tears of frustration more so than pain.

Bastein came barreling in the room, coming for me. I alerted him of my exact location and waited for him to come in. He crouched down next to me and carefully placed his fingers on my leg.

“Does this hurt?”He said as he pressed on my knee cap.”

I hissed in pain.

“I’ll take that as a yes. We need to go to the hospital, Your Majesty.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” I spat out.

Bastien just stared at me. He was used to my temper.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “I’m hurt.”

Bastien nodded. “I know. Can you put weight on it?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t want to try on my own.”

“Good idea. Here,” he said as he placed a hand under my arm. “One, two, three.”

Bastien lifted me with ease and I tentatively put weight on my right leg. A sharp, shooting pain radiated from the point of impact. I cried out and grasped Bastien instinctively.

Bastien made a tsk sound as he reassessed the situation. He looked at me. “Are you sure you don’t want me to alert His Majesty?”

I shook my head defiantly. “When he is done with his meeting, then you may tell him.” My eyes were hurting from the tears that fell, but I jutted out my chin stubbornly.

Bastien rolled his eyes before swooping me into his arms. He easily carried me to the living room and sat me on my chair. He disappeared to the kitchen and returned with ice in a bag. “Put this on your knee,” he instructed. I didn’t dare defy him.

I set the ice down on my knee carefully, wincing at the initial contact.

“I’ve made arrangements for us to leave, Your Majesty. We must take the back way as to not draw attention to you,” Bastien said as he crouched down next to me. “I’ll carry you.”

I nodded, giving him permission to carry me.

“Hell of a week for Mara to be off,” I stated dryly.

Bastien chuckled. “She’s never going to ask for a personal day again after she hears about this.”

I chuckled, too.

Bastien carried me through the servant passages to the back entrance. He easily sat me down in the back seat. His eyes searched mine, silently asking one more time if I really wanted to leave Liam.

“I’m fine,” I reassured him.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

He and I both knew that I was bullshit. Hospitals terrified me and I would be crying for Liam the moment I entered the building. I was hoping to make it to the exam room before I cried though. Maybe I can pass off the tears as pain.

When I arrived at the hospital, there was a flurry of doctors and nurses at my side.

Bastien vanished into the background.

They took my vitals and asked questions.

How are you feeling? What hurts? What happened? Does it hurt when I do this?

I’m okay, besides my knee. I forgot how ladders work and here I am. Yes that hurts!!!

I couldn’t stop the tears when they contorted my knee at a funny angle.

The Doctor who was moving me hissed when my tears started. “Your Majesty—.”

“Please, just call me Riley,” I whispered.

“Riley. I am so sorry for hurting you.”

“It’s okay,” I said as I wiped away my tears. “You’re just doing your job. And I hate hospitals,” I whimpered.

As if on cue, Liam came bursting through the door.

I heard gasps of Your Majesty’s, but Liam was only paying attention to me.

“Riley,” he whispered as he kissed me on the forehead. “Why did I have to hear from a maid that my wife had been taken to the hospital?’” He was smiling, but only I could hear the anger in his voice.

I began sobbing. Between the pain of my knee, the anxiety of being in a hospital, and Liam being mad, it was too much. I slapped my hands over my face.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I didn’t want to disturb you and—.”

“Riley.” Liam’s voice was commanding.

I put my hands down and looked at him.

Liam took my hands in his and said, “You could never disturb me. Now,” he announced as he turned to the doctors, “what have we decided?”

“Uhm, Her Maj— Riley needs X-Rays to determine if anything was broken, Your Majesty.” They were all nervous.

Liam smiled kindly, putting them at ease. “Please call me Liam.”

“Of course. I sent a nurse to get a wheelchair so that Riley doesn’t walk on her knee.”

“A wheelchair?” I squeaked. “I’m fine!” Heat flooded my cheeks. I hated having attention drawn to me. I looked up at Liam, begging him to stop them.

“Ah,” he began, understanding my silent plea. “Maybe I could carry her? Promise I won’t let her touch the floor.”

“Of course,” the doctor said. “I’ll come get you in a moment.”

Later that evening as Liam and I lay in bed, he looked at me.

“Don’t you ever do that again, Riley. I thought you were dying.”

I laughed, trying to lighten his mood. It didn’t work.

“I’m sorry, Liam. I really did know I’d be okay.” I grasped his hand in mine. “It wasn’t the end of the world.”

“Riley, you are my world. Nothing is more important than you, my queen.”

He leaned over and kissed my cheek.

“Okay,” I said. “Next time I fall off a ladder, you’ll be the first to know.”

Liam laughed. “I already had them all put away, my love.”

*************************************************

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[flutistbyday2020]

I promise!

I promise I haven't given up all hope on writing!! I'm hoping to have a new chapter of JDG up soon!

[flutistbyday2020]

Excerpts from John Winchester’s Journal

Nov 2, 1986

Mary has been dead for three years. She doesn’t know that Sammy has learned the alphabet, and likes to catch by the. She doesn’t know that Dean watches his little brother like a hawk every minute, with an expression that says he’s willing to die to keep Sammy safe.

She doesn’t know how it tears me up inside to see that expression, and to know that it’s there because I have drilled it into Dean that Sammy is his responsibility. He’s eight years old, and I’ve told him, his brother’s life is in his hands.

Mary, I didn’t have any right to do that. But what else could I do?

[flutistbyday2020]

John Deere Green Chapter Eight: (500 Miles)

⚠️⚠️This story and its contents contain material not suited for sensitive viewers. This story is not meant for anyone under the age of 18. If you are reading this, you are agreeing you are over 18. This warning serves as a blanket trigger and content warning. Cussing, rape, abuse, miscarriage, adultery, death, and other dark subjects will be mentioned. This is your FINAL WARNING.⚠️⚠️

Word Count: 2454

Story master list is HERE.

Want to find more of my works? Use the tag #flutistbydaywrites on my page to find ALL of my writings.

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Lots of love,

RED.

The next day, Liam woke at 0600 sharp, half an hour before his alarm was set to ring. He bounced out of bed and dressed quickly. He chose slacks and a black button-up, knowing that he would be photographed.

Leo had given Liam the number of the photographer and videographer that he had used for his proposal. Leo joked and said that Liam was stealing all of his ideas, but Liam told him about the water tower. Leo joked about how Liam shouldn’t show up his older brother.

Liam had purchased well over 100 roses, as well. He, his family, and friends had painstakingly taken every petal off the roses to lay on the path— he didn’t want fake petals for Riley.

He wanted to have candles on the sides of a path to a pond where he and Riley could see the water tower clearly. He would have big lanterns with the words, “Will you marry me” written on the side, highlighted from behind with lights at the head of the path. There was a pond at the end of this path; two willows gracefully framed it. There would be lanterns hanging from the branches and Liam would get on one knee there.

Drake called Liam a show-off, but Liam shrugged and said, “only for the best.”

Twenty minutes. Hana was coming with Riley in twenty minutes. He was going to be engaged by the end of the night. Holy shit!!!

Liam had invited everyone from his and his father’s social circle for the engagement party. There were going to be close to three hundred people at this party— the entire county was anxious to see Leo and Liam celebrate their upcoming nuptials. Their weddings would be the talk of the country, as well. The Rhys’ were a prominent family not only in the south but the entire US.

The upper class of the farmers would all be in attendance— The Beaumonts from Ramsford, the Nervarkis from Lythikos, the Vancouver’s from Domvallier, the Amaranths from Krona, the Ebrims from Portavira, and the Therons from Castelsareillan. Their prominent citizens from the towns would also be in attendance.

Liam paced on the front lawn. People were already arriving, the band was already playing, and Riley would be here soon!

It was a gorgeous summer evening. It wasn’t too hot, thankfully. There was a light breeze that floated across the Rhys grounds, carrying the smell of the food and sounds of easy conversation.

Liam was going to wait until sunset before whisking Riley away to the pond. That way, the candles could illuminate the path. He hoped to plan it just right so that the lanterns would shine brightly, too.

Hana was impatiently tapping her foot in the foyer, waiting for Riley. Riley had changed her dress six times and puked twice.

“We’re going to be late if you don’t come out here this instant!” Hana cried.

She heard Riley stumbling around in her room, the sound of Riley slamming her bedroom door, then the sound of heels clicking on the tile.

“Jesus! I’m coming!” Riley yelled back.

Riley sported a floor-length, black dress that was very Breakfast at Tiffany’s. It was a mermaid-style gown, no sleeves, high neckline, and a slit up the side. She wore a pearl necklace and dangly silver earrings. Her hair was in an elegant updo.

Hana gasped. “Riley! You look beautiful.”

Riley blushed. “Thanks. I know Liam is going to propose tonight, and I want to look the part.”

Hana laughed lightly. “You sure do look the part. Come on. Let’s go!”

Hana wore a tea-length red dress, strappy sandals, and her hair was half up, ringlets curling around her face.

She almost bounced in her seat the entire ride to Liam’s house.

They pulled up the drive and were greeted by a valet stand at the mouth of the driveway.

Liam was at the stairs, waiting for Riley. He was a gentleman and opened Hana’s door first. Riley knew to stay until Liam came to her.

Liam swept open Hana’s door and offered her a hand. She took it and gracefully exited. Liam took her hand to his lips after bowing slightly. “It’s so good to see you, Hana.” His smile was genuine.

Hana winked. “It’s good to see you, too, Liam.” She proceeded to give a valet the keys and headed inside as Liam made his way over to the passenger side.

This is it! He straightened his posture and opened Riley’s door. She offered him her hand and exited the car. Unlike Hana, it was not graceful. Her foot caught on the hem of her dress, and she stumbled ever so slightly. Liam wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Oops,” Riley giggled as she looked up at Liam.

“If you wanted a hug, all you had to do was ask,” Liam teased.

Riley squeezed her arm around Liam. “Good to know. How about a kiss?”

Liam leaned down and kissed Riley chastely, much to her disappointment. When they pulled apart, Liam held Riley at arm’s length to look at her.

“I love the dress, Riley. It’s a flattering shape,” he commented as they began walking toward the backyard.

“Thank you,” Riley murmured. Her heart was pounding in her chest. When is he going to propose? I won’t be able to eat until he does! “Audrey Hepburn is my favorite actress and Breakfast at Tiffany’s is an amazing movie.”

“I agree,” Liam said as they approached a server with a tray full of champagne flutes.

Riley took in the sight before her. Liam had gone all out, and she knew it was for her. There were several white tents, all with three round tables underneath. The tables sported white, lace tablecloths. Each chair had a pink slip. There were vases in the middle filled with pink roses.

As Liam plucked two flutes from the tray, Riley approached an empty tent. There were nameplates, but she couldn’t make out names. Before she could proceed any further, Liam laced his arm with hers and pulled her away.

No need to spoil the last surprise of the evening, Liam thought. Amanda’s flight should be touching down any moment and she should be here just after sunset. Just in time to celebrate her daughter’s engagement!

Liam tugged Riley in the direction of people. “Do we have to?” She whined.

Liam laughed. “Yes, darling. If you’re going to be. Rhys, you must be good at politics.”

“How is talking to people politics?” Riley was still whiny.

Liam turned to Riley and kissed her on the cheek. “You must talk to people and figure out what they want from the way they look at you. For instance,” Liam subtly pointed at a woman next to a man, “That woman, Kiara, is trying to get a trade deal from Bertrand. Do you see how she leaned forward? She’s not interested, but she knows that if she butters him up just right, he’ll crack.”

Riley nodded, even though she wasn’t quite sure.

Liam chuckled. “It’s okay, love. You have an entire lifetime to figure it out. Ah, here we are,” he said as they approached a redhead. He leaned over and whispered, “Just remember, her bark is worse than her bite.”

The redhead looked up. “Liam! How good it is to see you!” Her eyes shifted to Riley. “And you must be the woman who stole his heart?”

Her tone was sniveling and it made Riley bristle. Riley smiled politely and stuck out her hand for Olivia to shake.

Olivia grasped it, hard, and pulled Riley in for a hug.

“If you break his heart, I’ll break your neck,” Olivia hissed.

Riley wrapped her arms around Olivia and squeezed a little too hard. “From what I heard, you’ve already broken his heart. Maybe I should break your neck?”

Riley pulled back and was rewarded with a stunned look on Olivia's face. Riley leaned in and whispered one last thing: “I’m from Brooklyn, Livvy. You’ll have to be scarier than that.”

She smiled brightly as Liam looked between the two of them. Riley shrugged and whisked off to find Hana.

“What was all that about, Olivia?” Liam demanded.

Olivia shook her head. “She’s not afraid of me, so I’ll give her that.” She smiled sadly at Liam. “She’s a great woman, Liam. I can already tell.”

Olivia turned and walked away.

Liam didn’t have time to ponder what was said because the sun was starting to dip in the sky.

His eyes wandered until they found Riley next to Hana, Maxwell, Bertrand, and Kiara.

Riley stormed up to Hana and finished her drink in one swig.

“Uh, what’s up, Ri?” Hana asked as her eyebrows shot up.

“Olivia’s a bitch.”

The lady that was talking to Bertrand laughed. “You could say that.” She gasped. “Oh, no! Where are my manners?” She smiled at Riley. “I’m Kiara Theron. I’m from Castelliarian.”

Kiara approached Riley to shake her hand.

“This is Bertrand and Maxwell Beaumont from Ramsford,” Kiara pointed at the brothers. Bertrand, too, stood forward to shake Riley’s hand but Maxwell hugged Riley.

Maxwell smiled. “I know Riley! We met at her job!”

Riley returned the hug. She liked Maxwell.

“So, Riley, what brings you to the south?” Bertrand asked.

“Just needed a new start, I guess,” Riley laughed. “Happened to find Liam in the process.”

The group chuckled.

“I think Liam found you, Riley,” Bertrand offered. “I’ve known him since the day he was born and I’ve never seen him like this.”

Riley looked Bertrand in the eye. She could tell he was being honest.

Just then, Liam approached. He greeted everyone before turning to Riley.

“I was wondering if I could steal a moment of your time?” Liam asked as he offered Riley his arm.

Riley smiled brightly as she set down her empty champagne flute. “You can’t steal what is freely given, Liam.”

“If you’ll excuse us,” Liam said to the group.

The couple walked in silence for a few minutes before Riley spoke.

“Where are we going?”

Liam smiled to himself. “You’ll see.”

“Brat.”

The only sound was of their feet on the ground.

They approached a path and Liam stopped, turned to Riley, and took her hand. “I have a surprise for you.”

Riley raised her eyebrows.

Liam held up a blindfold. “Put this on.”

Riley’s heart began pounding again. “You aren’t going to kill me, are you?” She squealed.

“What? No! Why would I—”

Liam could see the terror in her eyes. “Okay! it’s okay, Riley!” He wrapped her in his arms and waited for her to calm. “No blindfold. But you have to promise to keep your eyes shut.”

“Okay.”

Riley dutifully placed her hands over her eyes and Liam guided her down the path.

The candles were lit, the petals were scattered, and the lanterns were in place.

The sun had dipped just low enough to make the candles shine, but it was still high enough to see the water tower.

Liam guided Riley to the clearing. “Stay here and don’t open your eyes!”

“Okay.”

Liam pulled out his phone and confirmed the photographer and videographer were in place. He then lit the candles in the lanterns.

He was nervous. His heart was pounding. His hands were sweating— Ew! What? He thought as he wiped his hands on his pants. Come on, Liam. Get your act together.

He turned Riley so she faced the water tower.

“Riley, I’m going to be cheesy for a minute.”

Riley giggled. “Okay, then.”

Liam placed his hands on top of hers. “There’s an old song, “John Deere Green”, by Joe Diffie. It talks about two kids who fell in love at first sight.”

Riley was silent.

“Open your eyes,” Liam whispered as he took his hands from hers.

Riley’s mouth dropped open as she saw the water tower. “Liam, it’s—” she couldn’t find the words.

“Still not enough?” Liam offered.

Riley shook her head. “I love it. Thank you.” She stood on her toes to kiss Liam.

This time, it was not a chaste kiss. He held one arm behind her back and one hand was on her head. He kissed her deeply and passionately.

Riley pulled back, breathless. She smiled at him.

“While that song reminds me of us, and helped inspire tonight, that isn’t our song,” Liam said with a smile.

“Oh, and what is our song?”

“500 Miles”,” Liam stated. “I would walk 500 miles And I would walk 500 more just to be the man who falls down at your door,” Liam sang quietly.

A tear streaked down Riley’s cheek.

“There’s more, Riley,” Liam whispered as he took Riley’s hand. “I loved you from the moment I saw you at the store.”

Riley blushed. “I’m still sorry about the soda.”

“Don’t be, love,” Liam murmured. “I knew that you were supposed to be in my life that day. As the fates would have it, you were my waitress on the night that Leo and I decided to do what was best for our family.

“Riley, Leo and I had decided that we would marry whoever was the best for our family. We would marry the person who could help our farm. Madeleine was born for this life— she could be a queen in another life. And you, Riley? You surprised me when you helped me with that horse.

“You have surprised me at every turn, Riley. First, you agree to go out on a date, and then, you help a man you barely know foal a horse. You agree to a second date. And then, when I told you how soon I had to be married, you took it in stride.”

Liam counted the reasons on his fingers.

“I can only hope to be half the man you deserve, Riley.”

He placed Riley’s hands back over her eyes and moved them so that the photographer could see the lanterns behind them before he got down on one knee. “Keep your hands over your eyes,” Liam whispered.

Riley nodded.

Liam got down on one knee, ring in hand, and began singing again:

“When I wake up, well I know I'm gonna be.

I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you.

When I go out, yeah I know I'm gonna be

I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you.”

More tears fell from Riley’s eyes.

“Open your eyes, Riley.”

Riley’s eyes Snapped open and she saw Liam before her. Happy tears streamed freely.

“Riley, I promise you that I will love you with everything I have for the rest of my life. If you let me.”

Riley held her breath.

“Riley Alexandra Brooks, will you marry me?”

Perma

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John Deere Green

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@the-food-hole

[flutistbyday2020]

Bury a Friend

Chapter 1

Hello! Welcome one and all to my hodgepodge, hot mess express of a fan fic.

This is a “Supernatural” fic, and has an EXPLICIT rating.

⚠️  This is not suitable for those under 18. If you are reading this, you consent that you are over 18. ⚠️

This story will have themes of death, gore, sex, language, and self harm. This is your blanket warning.

Story summary:

Alex Walker is a Hunter. She’s known Sam and Dean Winchester for years, but when Sam left for college, they were all separated. The Winchester brothers are pulled back into Alex’s life seven years later. Follow Alex, Amanda, Alex’s best friend, Sam, and Dean as they navigate life as hunters and the precarious relationships that develop.

This is slightly canon, slightly AU. I’m still super new to the fandom, and I’m actually only on season seven of Supernatural as of June 17, 2020.

Song Inspiration: “Bury a Friend” by Billie Eilish

Parings: Dean x OC; Sam x ? OC x ?

Warnings for this chapter: Cussing

Chapter Summary: Meet Alex and Amanda

Word Count: 2135

Shout out to @muffinlover246fics for being an AMAAAAAAAAAZING beta reader.

Dean Winchester.

What. A. Man.

No, a God.

Alex had known Dean and Sam for years. 10, almost 11 years, to be exact.

Alex met them when she was just 15; just a teenage girl, who hadn’t even finished going through puberty yet.

When Alex met Dean and Sam, the girl was gangly, angled, and uncoordinated. The amount of times Alex tripped over her own feet or ran into a screen door, was too many to count. Alex was not a graceful teenager. She had tried activities like gymnastics to help, but she broke her arm and never went back.

She was a graceful adult, though.

Between puberty, her father’s training regime, and some miracle, Alex had stopped tripping over her own feet and started to become a true hunter.

Her father trained her mentally and physically. Alex could handle any weapon that dropped in her hands, She could single-handedly shove stakes through hearts, and she always made sure to have the upper hand. She was smart, too. She knew her limits and never bit off more than she could chew.

She used her small stature to her advantage: she could hide most anywhere and she could wiggle out most monster’s grips.

She was adept, daft, and cunning. She also knew to keep a low profile— nobody had been able to pin her down.

She was deadly.

Alex had met Sam and Dean through a family friend who knew John Winchester. They were all hunters; a life that Alex had desperately tried to escape. Her Dad would drop Alex off with Sam when he and John would go on a hunt. Dean was resentful that he had another “kid” to look after, but Sam was grateful to have another person to talk to. Sam and Alex were close up until the day he graduated from high school. Sam left after a huge fight with his father and never looked back.

Alex had mourned the loss of her friendship with Sam, but Dean never gave Alex a second glance. Which wasn’t surprising— Dean was almost 10 years her senior, nine years and 364 days… Not that Alex has counted or anything. She was just a kid to him.

Dean and John left seven years ago and Alex hasn't heard from a Winchester since.

When Alex started hunting, She began to track Sam and Dean. She followed their trail through newspapers. Once they had reunited with Ellen, Alex got a phone call every time they showed.

She had long tried to forget about her feelings for Dean, but she kept an eye on the brothers to make sure their paths didn’t cross.

Until the universe decided to pull the Winchester’s back into her life.

Alex was at the Roadhouse, nursing a whiskey, neat, when she heard a voice She thought she would never hear again.

“Alex?” The voice boomed from across the bar.

Alex turned to the source of the noise. A goofy smile coming across her face when she realized who was speaking to her

“Well, I’ll be!” She said to the giant man before her.

Sam had aged, but well. Under all that bulk of muscle, the kid that she knew was still there. She could see it in the kindness of his eyes. Even though the life of a hunter was cruel, he was still good.

Alex stood to hug Sam, but he swept her up in his arms and spun around. Alex laughed loudly but clung to him. She inhaled his cologne and all those good memories she had of spending time with the Winchester’s came back in waves of nostalgia.

“It’s good to see you, Alex,” he said as he put her back on her feet.

“You too, Sam!” Alex said, joyfully as she sat down. “Care to join me?”

Sammy nodded before turning to Dean.

“Dean, you remember Alex?”

Dean glared at her. “Yeah, Cameron’s kid,” he grunted. “Dumped her with me. Gave me another mouth to feed.”

Alex tsked her tongue at Sam before turning toward him. “Is he always such an ass?”

This earned a laugh from Sam. “Yeah,” he guffawed. “Yeah, he is.”

“Whatever,” Dean huffed. “Can I get a beer, Jo?”

They waited until Dean had skulked off to the corner of the bar before resuming conversation.

When Alex was 15, their age gap made the world of a difference. But now that she was 25? 10 years didn’t seem all that bad. And Dean looked good for 35. Really good. Even though he was still an ass.

“So, what brings you here?” She asked Sam, turning toward him with a bright smile.

Sam shrugged. “It’s been awhile since we’ve had a case. Dean was getting restless, so I suggested we come here. It’s the closest thing we have to a home.”

“You don’t go to Bobby’s anymore?” It was an innocent question, but she could tell it set Sam on edge.

Sam’s eyes darkened for a second.

“Consider the question withdrawn,” Alex half joked.

She knew Bobby had a heart attack and she also knew that neither Sam nor Dean had bothered to pick up a phone and call Bobby in almost a year— that’s why she was in town. She had hoped that the boys had long moved on from their relationship with Bobby.

Alex had called Ellen for her weekly check in when Ellen had told her Bobby had a heart attack. Alex rushed to Sioux Falls immediately.

Jo had gushed every detail about Sam and Dean to Alex when Alex and Amanda came to the Roadhouse three nights ago.

“How do you know about Bobby?” He asked, leaning closer to her.

It was Alex’s turn to shrug. “You and Dean are famous in this world,” she said nonchalantly as she downed the whiskey in one swig. “Word gets around. My dad knew him, too,” I offered. “Said he was a drunk.”

The truth was, Alex knew Bobby through her father as well. Her father and Bobby had been close for about twenty years before a hunt went very, very wrong.

Her father had almost gotten Bobby killed, and instead of owning up to it, Cameron pinned the blame on Bobby.

That fight created a rift between Cameron and Bobby that nobody could fix.

Alex had reached out to Bobby only twice in the past seven years— once to see if he’d help her. He said he had no interest in helping Cameron’s blood, and once more just to tell him that Cameron had passed away. Even though they weren’t in contact, she still cared for Bobby. She always drove by his house when she was in town, just to make sure he was alive.

Alex knew that if Sam and Dean found out that Bobby had been hurt, and almost killed, by her father, they would most likely turn on her. Bobby was the only family they had left, and Bobby hated Alex.

That made Sam laugh. “That’s what they all say. But those who know him—”

“Know he’s mostly sober?”

Alex and Sam laughed. She didn’t realize how much she had missed the younger Winchester brother. His presence was a breath of fresh air.

Jo poured another round.

“So what are you doing here?” He asked.

Alex looked at him, debating if she should tell him the truth. “Ellen’s like a second mom to me,” she said after a moment. “She likes to think she’s checking up on me, but really, I’m checking up on her.” It wasn’t completely untrue. Ellen did like it when Alex popped in, but only ‘cause she was a hunter and she was worried sick about Alex.

Alex could see the wheels turning in Sam’s mind and hoped he wouldn’t press it. Eventually, he nodded, accepting her words.

They fell into an awkward silence. They both knew that you couldn’t trust other hunters as far as you could throw. They both knew that Alex had just lied to him for a reason.

“Alex,” Sammy started.

She looked at him. Her heart broke when she saw the sadness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for how I left things.”

Alex waved her hand dismissively. “That was years ago, Sam. C’est la vie.”

Alex moved to get out of her seat, but Sam’s hand was on hers in a second. She couldn’t help but look up at him.

“I mean it, Alex. I was so desperate to get out that I didn’t care who got caught in the crossfire. I messed up.”

Alex could see the sincerity on his face. “Okay,” She whispered. She cleared her throat. “But I really should get going. The rowdy crowd is about to show up.” Alex gave Sam a shit-eating grin and slapped money down on the bar.

When Alex turned, she couldn’t help but notice Dean. Well, who Dean was chatting up, anyhow.

He was leaning against the bar, talking up her best friend, Amanda. Alex Looked back at Sam and winked. “Watch this.”

She walked over to Dean. He either didn’t sense her presence or didn’t care. Alex looked at Amanda, and Amanda noticed her best friend instantly.

Alex slightly raised her eyebrows, asking Amanda a silent question. Do you want me to stop this? When one friend was being hit on by men they didn’t like, the other would come over and would ask, “Honey, are you ready to go?” Before sharing a kiss with the other to get the man to go away. Most of the time, it worked. Sometimes, the guy was a creep and wanted to “join them”. Those guys usually got a punch to the nose.

Amanda gave a slight nod, inscrutable to anyone who didn’t know the pair .

Alex stepped in between Dean and Amanda, making herself known.

“Dean,” Alex crooned in a voice saved for men she thought were one step above Neanderthals, “I see you’ve met Amanda.” Alex smiled brightly, but her eyes showed a silent threat.

“Yes, I have, Sweetheart,” Dean said, with confidence dripping from him. He winked at Alex before turning to Amanda.

It took everything Alex and Amanda had not to laugh.

“I hate to break it to you, Dean, but you’re barking up the wrong tree,” Alex said in a tone that indicated that he should leave.

Dean stood up straighter. He looked down at Alex, literally and figuratively. “Is that so, sweetheart?” His voice challenged Alex this time.

Alex gave a small laugh. “Yes, it is Dean. You should leave before you get humiliated.”

“Ha,” he said, his signature cocky smile on his face again.

Alex shrugged her shoulders. “I warned you.” She wrapped her arms around Amanda’s neck and kissed her friend deeply.

Dean’s jaw dropped and Sam started laughing in the background.

Alex pulled away from Amanda and looked at Dean. He shrunk back from the pair and sank onto a stool. He was leaning on the bar again, shell shocked from what just happened. Alex knew he was a little turned on, too. It was in his eyes.

Alex raised her eyebrows suggestively while leaning into Dean.

He was disarmed by the powermove and lust, so it was easy for Alex to reach into his pocket and snag his wallet.

“I told you, Dean. Wrong tree,” She whispered seductively. Once the wallet was securely on her person, Alex discreetly pulled out her knife.

Her lips were millimeters away from Dean’s and she could tell he wanted to kiss her.

Alex licked her lips as one final distraction before slamming the knife into the bar top, pinning his jacket sleeve securely to the wood.

He reacted like Alex knew he would— He tried to bounce out of his seat, but was stuck to the bar top.

By the time he had successfully removed the knife, Alex was already halfway out the door, Amanda in tow.

“Keep the knife, sweetheart,” Alex called as she dragged Amanda out of the door and into the night.

Sam walked up to dean. “Dude—“

“Don’t say anything,” Dean threatened as he pulled his jacket back on. He patted down his sides. “Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed as he patted down his front and back pockets. “She just took my wallet!”

This made Sam, Jo, and Ellen laugh.

“Shut up,” Dean hissed.

Ellen leaned across the bar. “She may have been just “Cameron’s kid”, Dean, but she’s not a baby anymore. Her daddy died five years ago, and she was hunting on her own till she found Amanda two years ago.”

Dean looked at Ellen, then at Sam. He had definitely underestimated Alex.

Ellen could see the lust in Dean's Eyes so she clicked her tongue dismissively in response. “Don’t go messing with her, Dean Winchester. She’s had enough heartache for a lifetime.”

Dean stared at the door, hoping to see Alex again, and not just because she had his wallet.

[flutistbyday2020]

The mood board for a story I’m writing

“Bury A Friend”

Supernatural AU

Two OCs with Sam and Dean... what will happen?

Follow to find out.

Muah.

The debt I owe, gotta sell my soul

'Cause I can't say no, no, I can't say no

Then my limbs all froze and my eyes won't close

And I can't say no, I can't say no