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buirbaby · 3 years

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The Wardens: Death Is A Cruel Mistress

Summary: Tabitha's time had run out on Earth, consumed by flames. When she wakes up in her new hell, she discovers that not only is it cold, but it's a hell of an entirely different meaning. She is in Westeros, with the knowledge to change the tides of future, but without the ability to speak it aloud. Tabitha must carve her path without fame, fortune, or noble titles in order to save characters from their deaths. All she has is a sword in her hand and the ability to warg.

Rating: M+ Mature themes, language, and violence

Masterlist | Next

The end of the work day was like any other. Tabitha was misting a few plants in the lowlight of the fading afternoon as evening encroached on her small storefront. Jingling jovially, the door tinkled open with just five minutes to spare on the clock before she'd lock it. Lifting her head, her fingers listed up toward her glasses to see who had entered. Originally, she had believed it to be a customer in search of a last minute plant or clippings she sometimes arranged into floral bouquets. However, rather than a customer, her stomach dropped to the floor at the cursed visage of a man in a finely pressed suit.

He wasn't there for a plant, she knew this. Just as she knew many others that had been harassing her and a few other remaining shops on Main Street. A new development wanted to take control of this block and turn it into an impressive condo complex on the rustic street that garnered attention from tourists and locals alike. Wiping her hands off on her apron, which was dusted with dirt and pearlite, Tabitha cleared her throat and approached. If he thought there'd be a mousy garden shop owner, he was sorely mistaken. Tabitha's family had own this storefront for generations and she wasn't about to hand it over, not when she'd fixed it up with her own blood, sweat, and tears. She was a successful business woman, the shop was in stellar condition and thriving despite the pause in society due to COVID.

"Can I help you?" she asked sharply, coming around the polished wooden counter to assert her place.

"Yes, is the owner or manager in?"

The fated question, one that made her blood boil each time the casual, yet scathing glance was set over her, as if a woman in her late twenties couldn't be said person. It happened yet again and Tabitha forced herself not to snort in indignation. "I am her," she replied evenly.

"Wonderful," the man drawled, withdrawing a manila folder from underneath his arm. "As you're likely aware, my company is purchasing property in the vicinity. There are a few stores, this one included, that are refusing to sell. I've come with an offer-" he opened the folder, images of the supposed development and work ushered beneath a contract and a hefty sum with quite a few zeroes.

"Then you would be aware that I, like the other few businesses, are still refusing to sell. Listen, this street prides itself on historical shops and architecture. I know that we're prime water view property, but I'm not selling, and I know for certain that my fellow business owners are just as adamant in our position. I don't need the money," Tabitha didn't touch the paper. He could have added more zeroes and she wouldn't have cared. This was principle, her family's lineage, and she wouldn't be a sell out.

"Please, these prices are negotiable. My company is really eager to develop here and keep to the charming architecture on the street. Won't you consider it? You could always reopen in a much larger shop down the road," the man suggested.

"It wouldn't be on Main Street," Tabitha pointed out. "Look, sir, I've got nothing against you, but I don't appreciate being badgered to sell. I will never sell. Your company should either take what they've got or look elsewhere. Now please, I'm just about to close."

"Nothing is going to change your mind, miss?"

"Nothing," Tabitha assured him, closing the folder and sliding it back over toward him.

Escorting the man to the door, he paused to glance at the fire alarm posted near the entrance. It was a bit old, but the pipes had been updated within the last decade. "Old system here," he commented.

"The shop is as humid as a rainforest, I'm not too worried," Tabitha shrugged, opening the door. Perhaps she should have thought about the oddness of the comment more, but she didn't. A lot of things in the shop were old, considering how long the building had been standing. She had put a lot of money into reinforcing the structure and replacing the old with new so that the beautiful piece of history could be continuously preserved. Shutting the door behind him, she locked the glass door and flipped the sign over to ‘closed’.

There were a few chores to finish up around the shop, to include changing out bug sticky tape and sweeping up dirt. After balancing the register, she locked up the cash, and shut the lights off. Through the back of the store, there was a locked door that led to a staircase, revealing a set of stairs that ascended into her apartment that was situated above the shop.

Her head ached, them pestering at least twice a week to sell her home and livelihood just to relocate. That wasn't it. Aside from the principle of it all, she would also have to find a house and a new store. Who knew if she'd be able to buy it outright or what she'd be getting. Then the stress of moving alongside of wondering if her typical clients would follow her elsewhere. No, it was too much and she wouldn't do it, even if she was the last one on the frontier against this condo company. Maybe if she had some family to help her she would've grudgingly considered it, but already she was spread thin between all her work.

A loud meow greeted her as she pushed open the door to her flat and she smiled, the tension of the day slipping away as a fluffy black cat stood on the arm of her couch and beckoned with his tail to be given attention. Letting out another shouting protest, Tabitha chuckled and brushed her palm over the feline's head, the long hair cat pressing into her hand as she raked down his spine. "I know, I know, I kept you up here all day. I'm sorry Balerion. Bad cat mommy," she hung her smock up and bent down to pick the fluffy monster up, the baby curling into her arms like a babe as he mewed in content. "But you know I'm going to make it up to you. Tomorrow we're going on another trip, aren't we? Hollis is gonna take care of the shop while we're gone."

The plan was to head up to Iceland for the hike and climbing trip that Tabitha had been saving for for years. Balerion was her partner on all escapades, a willing participant in hikes and her little buddy even in rockclimbing as he'd be situated in a special backpack where he'd be fully strapped in. Already the feline had been with her to the Amazon, Alaska and Denali, Scotland, the Azores, and Hawaii. He seemed to love the adventure, which was uncommon for cats, especially given the strenuous conditions they were sometimes subjected to. However, even if Tabitha was miserable, Balerion was always kept warm, dry, and safe. She had friends, but Balerion was her soul mate.

"Let's go through our packing list one more time, we don't want to forget anything," she said, reminding herself more than him as she brought him into the bedroom and plopped him down onto the bed. Balerion flopped down, hanging his meaty paws over the edge as she opened her suitcase and hiking pack to double check the supplies. "Now it'll be summer there, so lots of hours of sunlight, but still quite mild. Want to make certain we're warm enough at night. Shouldn't be as bad as Denali though."

After checking the list thrice more and comparing it to what she had laid out, Tabitha decided that the two of them were ready for the journey tomorrow. Dinner was simple to prevent much to clean before the two of them settled in for the evening, a book on her lap as she re-read through one of her favorite series: A Song of Ice and Fire . The place where she'd gotten Balerion's name from. She barely managed more than a chapter, too excited to board the plane at the crack of dawn to Iceland with her furry companion.

Tugging the blanket up, Balerion curled up by her side, Tabitha set her alarm on her phone and tried to get some shut eye. It was difficult at first, the anticipation clawing at her, but eventually she slipped away from reality. Cascading into a dreamless sleep, she was awoken by the worried yowl of her cat, which roused her. Eyes burning, Tabitha turned over in an attempt to grab her phone to check the time. It wasn't often that Balerion made such an awful noise. Usually when he wasn't feeling well and was going to vomit. However, as she turned on the night lamp, she noticed a thick haze permeating the room. Balerion was no longer beside her, but she could hear his crying, loud and insistent.

Smoke. It was smoke.

"Balerion?" The moment she opened her mouth, she drew in a copious amount of smoke and choked on it. Sputtering, she rolled off the bed and crawled, looking for her pet. "Bale, come here baby. Come here!"

She didn't hear the fire alarms going off. If there was any sort of fire, the alarms should have been ringing. Ducking underneath the bed, she found him cowering in the corner, reaching beneath to drag him out toward her. Fire escape. There wasn't time to think about what had caused the fire, nor where it had originated. Her mind was fully in survival mode. This was the second floor and the ceilings were quite high, her best hope would be utilizing the escape to get as close to the ground as she could before dropping down.

Tabitha made it to the window where the escape was, standing up enough to try and glimpse outside, but was horrified by what she found. There was a glass pane to look through, but a curtain of fire as the flames had consumed the exterior of the structure first. She had replaced a good portion of the interior, but the outside was still the same old shingles. Wherever the fire might have started, it had lanced up around the outside, beginning to eat in through the roof before billeting up through the flooring of her apartment. It was possible that the wet atmosphere of her shop cocooned the apartment temporarily, but in the meanwhile the rest of the older parts of the structure went alight.

Panic consumed her as Tabitha dropped back down to the ground and hoped that maybe the nearby fire department would get inside before either of them perished. Keep low to the ground, try not to breathe in the smoke.

Crawling away from the window and doorway, Tabitha slid next to her bookcase, glancing over at the picture frames and the years of her early twenties depicted in photos of her when she'd left the confines of her small town home to embark on a journey in the military. Those years, while she'd complained a lot about them, had helped put a backbone in her and set up a foundation for schooling and regiment. She still enjoyed rucking-or backpacking as the civilians called it, never quite trading in her boots in.

Her eyes fluttered, a soft hoarse cough parting her lips again as Balerion's yowling quieted and she felt exhausted. Perhaps she could hear the fire trucks in the distance, perhaps she couldn't. Tabitha's eyes shut to the sound of a formation marching and a cadence being called.

#game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #a song of ice and fire fanfic #asoiaf fanfiction #asoiaf fanfic #reincarnation insert #freeform #added lore #the ability to change the future but with a twist #romance is not the main theme #BAMF female OC #buirbaby writes #The Wardens

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mbavholidayexchange · 3 years

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to @oceanographerschoice from @rowsha

title: holidays are for making you blush

rating: teen and up audiences

summary:

the story of a vampire learning to be loved, and the two idiots who love him.

ao3 link: link

content:

Rory Keaner grew up different from his boyfriends.

Not so much different from Benny, as they both grew up with a single parent, but much more different than Ethan. He sort of (definitely) envies Ethan in a way (in many ways); he envies his nuclear family, his good grades, his smarts, his humor, and-

His flat chest.

He envied Benny's too. Both of them, unlike Rory, grew up and identified as cisgender boys. Nothing changed about their wardrobe when they got to middle school. Neither of them had to deal with a substitute teacher who didn't know the chosen names of everyone in their class. They didn't live with the shame, the tears, the want to be someone other than themselves- they've been with each other since they were both in diapers. And Rory would never have that bond with the two of them. He would never be able to relate to them the way that they related to each other.

The jokes, the references, and the longing, knowing gazes they would shoot in the direction of the other. Rory didn't know what it was like to have someone know you inside and out. He knew the concept of his body was… an enigma all on its own. He knew his own brain betrayed him when it came to understanding a word Ethan and Benny were saying to each other half the time.

So, becoming a vampire made things…

The day he got bit was easily the best and worst day of his life. It was rushed, it was peer pressure, it was the way Rory felt waking up into a body he finally felt was his. But at the same time… he felt dead. No matter how you looked at it- he was a dead person, that was a part of him now. He didn't have a beating heart, just still blood that stayed cold and dead like cement flowing throughout his veins. He had no need to eat, but he still ate (in other ways). He didn't need sleep, not because he was immortal, but because the thought of never being the person he was before… it tore him up inside.

For the way he was born and for the way he transformed, he knew he wouldn't be the same as his boyfriends ever again. After all, they were human- well, minus Ethan because he's some type of prophet for the supernatural. And Benny too, what with him being a "spellmaster" as Grandma Weir put it. So, okay, maybe they weren't fully human. But they would grow old and live life the way it was meant to be lived- with death. And Rory would have to watch them die and be alone for all of eternity. Who else (other than a seer and witch) would be able to love someone so… noticeably undead?

To Rory's surprise, Benny and Ethan didn't really care whether he was alive or "undead." they cared about keeping Rory safe from being found out. They stole bags from the blood drive, they picked up extra sunblock for him at the corner store. Sunglasses, hoodies, rats- the whole nine yards. Just to make Rory happy. Just to keep him from exposure. it made him wonder if all those intrusive thoughts of never being to love again once they were dead were valid at all. He feels like, to a certain degree, the thought of his boyfriends staying with him (even after they were long gone) would be enough for him to make it on his own.

There were still other things about being a vampire trapped in a girl's body that bothered him. On one hand, he could run away from his mom and live his life and live somewhere with Ethan and Benny in the woods. Like they did in Dusk. On the other hand, he could tell someone other than those two what was going on, and that he needed help (a cure, a surgery, something). If he stayed the way he was, trapped inside his room with the curtains drawn and sneaking vermin into his room, he would stay like that until his mom noticed he wasn't aging and find out the awkward way. But if he just told somebody maybe it would be hard and he could find a cure like Sarah did and live and die with Benny and Ethan and-

No. That's not possible.

He can't tell anyone. Not a single soul. that he's a vampire- that he's transgender. That his disgusting, embarrassing name is Tabitha Abigail Keaner and that's the name he has to hear over and over and over at home. At a place that doesn't feel like home because home was wherever Ethan and Benny were.

But he can't keep it in any longer. Surely, it's going to get blurted out eventually. Or written in a note followed by "I've decided to skip town, you'll never see me again, goodbye everyone." He wondered, sometimes, how much a bus ticket would cost.

Not a lot of it makes sense, and not a lot of it should make sense. But he knows that no matter how horrible his home life will get, and no matter how much he wants to correct teachers and substitutes, he'll always have his home. Ethan will always put on a videogame and Benny will always order a pizza for the three of them. And they will always call him Rory, whenever they kiss or hold hands or ask him to pass the remote.

Rory decided that he wouldn't let the daunting gloom of immortality shake him as much as it did when he was just a fledgling. He decided that the future was malleable and the present was cement, because of Ethan throwing his controller and Benny slamming the door on the delivery guy's face. He cherishes what he has, even if it is two dorks in Canada. For now, as the thoughts of them dying swim in his mind's kiddie pool, Rory rests on Ethan's chest while holding Benny's hand.

"Chag ah molad baruch, Ror." Benny says, placing a kiss on Rory's cheek as they sat under Ethan's Christmas tree.

He blushes, both because of Benny's kiss and the embarrassment of not learning Hebrew fast enough. He looks down at the wrapped gift in his lap, sitting shiny and neat underneath a large plastic ribbon. He pulls Benny in for a hug. It only lasts for a second or two, before he pulls back to ask:

"That means 'blessed Yule', right?"

Benny laughs, then nods in agreement. He gives Rory another peck on the cheek and Rory has to try his best not to squeal like a Dusk fangirl.

"Or 'merry Christmas'," Ethan interjects, face stuffed with Grandma Weir's cookies, "but if you wanna look at its root meaning, it translates to-"

"Celebrating the birth of a male. Yes, E, we know." Benny and Rory both roll their eyes, knowing that Ethan was never slow when it came to languages.

Rory feels a bit bitter that Benny taught Ethan hebrew before him- but then again, they did meet before they met Rory, so it makes sense that Ethan would be almost fluent in it by now. Still, it didn't stop Rory from being jealous of their impenetrable bond.

Ethan shrugs, turning back to the cookie platter only to notice the last of the treats had been mysteriously eaten. He gasps dramatically, spinning around to face Benny and Rory, who were gleefully eating the remaining cookies together.

"Stupid vampire speed." he grumbles, sitting down next to the two of them. Rory ruffles his hair playfully, and he smiles.

"You should know you're no match for the vampire ninja, babe." Rory says matter-of-factly, resting on his elbows now. A smug smile was plastered on his face as Ethan scowled and Benny giggled.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." he says with his arms crossed, "open my gift first."

"No way! My gift is cooler!" Benny says, pushing Ethan's gift out of Rory's lap and snapping his fingers. Suddenly, a small, beautifully wrapped box is in the other gift's place. It sparkles with magic air, shining (quite literally) as bright as a star.

"Wh- no fair! Yours didn't glow before! Take it back!" Ethan surges towards Benny, tackling him to the ground. They both struggle for a while, Benny pulling at Ethan's hair and Ethan trying to put Benny in a chokehold while Rory falls to the floor laughing.

After enough laughing, and concern for his boyfriends' well being, Rory decides to speak up.

"Okay, how about I open the gifts with my eyes closed? That way, whichever gift I pick is a surprise."

The two boys look up from their tangled position at Rory, Ethan's fist stopping mid-air above Benny's face. They look at each other, then shrug. They untangle themselves from each other, sitting prim and proper next to the tree. It makes Rory's smile even wider.

"Seems fair to me." Benny says.

"I don't see why not." Ethan agrees.

With that, Rory closes his eyes and begins to reach underneath the tree. He feels around for a bit, hand accidentally bumping the branches of the fake plant, until he feels a gift. He can't tell whose it is, but he knows that it's medium sized and wrapped in a bow. He thinks it might be the present from earlier. He picks it up and settles it on his lap, opening his eyes.

"To Rorster, from Ethan." he reads aloud, "looks like Ethan's is up first."

Benny groans in defeat, and Ethan pumps his fist in triumph. He briefly turns to Benny and kisses him apologetically, ruffling his hair. "Better luck next time, Ben."

"Go on, open it." Ethan encourages, arm around Benny.

Rory rips through the paper excitedly, making sure to keep the bow intact as he tears off the decorative wrapping. When all the paper is gone, he sees a familiar logo across the seal. His eyes widen in realization, mouth agape in wonder. Could Ethan really have pulled this off? No way- no way he could've done this…

"Ethan, you shouldn't have…" Rory says as he peels back the seal on the package, opening it to reveal-

A chest binder.

Not just any chest binder- a GC2B binder. And not just one, but multiple; a nude one that matches his skin tone, a black one, and a navy blue one. Rory clutches his hands over his mouth. He can't believe this… he knows how expensive these were, and he just… can't imagine how Ethan got the money to buy them.

"How- how did you-" Rory picks up the binders one by one, running his hands over the smooth material. Tears began to form in his eyes.

"It was nothing, really. I just used my birthday money from the past year or so and figured it would come in handy one day." Ethan said it like it was really nothing, shrugging nonchalantly as he leaned on Benny's side.

Rory, dumbfounded, couldn't keep his eyes off the binders. They seemed to shine brighter than the magic box, to glimmer in the light of the tree. The fabric felt silky smooth on one side, and perfectly rough on the other. It made Rory's heart want to leap out of his chest and swaddle his boys in the tightest of hugs. The tears from earlier were beginning to fall as Rory couldn't keep his happiness inside of him for much longer. The two boys began to take notice of his tears, wiping their own eyes themself.

"Well, I guess you gotta open mine now." Benny smirks when he says it, a glint in his eye that Rory knew all too well.

This is either going to be a very elegant gift or a very elaborate set up to a prank.

Rory opens the gift with caution, untying the ribbon around the small box. Still glowing, Rory has to squint his eyes to lift the top of the box off. He holds his hand over his eyes as if the sun was beaming directly into them. After a while, the light begins to die down.

"Jeez, Benny," Ethan rubs his irritated eyes, "did you have to make it so… painful to look at?"

"It's for the drama, dude."

Rory chuckles at that, wiping a light-induced tear from his eye as he reaches inside the box. His hand comes in contact with something small and… textured? It feels like a chain of some sort. He picks it up, then gazes in awe at the present in his palm.

"A locket? Ben…" true to his word, it's a real locket. The chain is silver, as is the heart shaped pendant hanging from it. Rory can see his reflection in the heart, and it makes his chest flutter.

"Open it!" Benny smiles from ear to ear, along with Ethan, who is just as in awe as Rory.

Doing as he's told, he opens the pendant. Inside is a picture of the three of them. They're at the place where they got those milkshakes that made Ethan discover he was lactose intolerant. As he blinks, the image changes. The picture of Benny and Ethan dressed as Ghostbusters on Halloween makes him remember the time they got swirlies from those jocks. It changes again to a moving image of Benny tripping and falling at the roller rink.

"I have no idea how you got pictures of these, but I love them. Thank you." Rory wraps his arms around Benny briefly, kissing him on the cheek as he lets go.

"It's a spell." Benny states proudly, "it shows all of your zikheronott semekhim- or 'happy memories', with the ones you love."

Ethan slaps him playfully on the shoulder. "You made my gift look like shit!"

Benny rushes to tackle Ethan, and they return to their shenanigans. They tussle on the floor again, looking like total geeks. Rory goes into another laughing fit as Ethan sits on Benny's back, trying to force him into a grotesque, spit-soaked kiss.

The next day, Rory proudly walks out of his house with a flat chest. His locket tucked safely under his shirt.

#my babysitter's a vampire #mbav #ronnethan #rory keaner #benny weir #ethan morgan

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showmethedestiel · 7 years

Text

Like I said; I don’t like Hospitals

Chapter Thirteen

[Masterlist]

Summary: You help Misha while he’s going through a hard time. The two of you quickly become friends, but will it lead to something more in such trying circumstances?

Words: 3,118

Pairing: Misha/Reader

You quickly fall into a rhythm with Misha’s family; your family. It generally goes have breakfast with Misha, take the kids to school, come home and work on your art or your website, pick the kids up from school, make dinner, put the kids to bed, spend time with Misha, sleep.

And it works. Not only does it work, but it makes you happy – really happy.

So of course; something has to go wrong.

Two weeks after Misha started going back to work, you get a call from Jensen – Misha’s in his trailer and he won’t come out, which is very uncharacteristic.

It’s a Wednesday morning, the kids are at school, and so you get in your car and set off – after googling directions.

You get there in just over an hour and Cliff the security guard shows you to Misha’s trailer. A few people wave at you; recognising you from the internet but not knowing the reason for your visit.

You get there and Cliff leaves you to knock on the door softly.

“Who is it?” Misha’s voice comes from inside, but it sounds off.

“It’s Y/N.” You reply worriedly.

There’s silence for a moment before the door opens and Misha disappears inside his trailer.

You cautiously follow him, shutting the door behind you.

Misha is sitting on the couch; head in his hands.

“Mish?” You ask, sitting down next to him and putting a tentative hand on his back.

Misha takes a deep breath and leans back so you can see his tear-streaked face and red eyes.

“Misha, what’s wrong?” You ask; eyes wide and concerned.

He looks away, sad guilt on his face, and takes another breath. “Y/N I love you. I love you and the kids – and when I’m with you everything is okay.” He says softly. “When I’m with you guys everything seems normal, but I can’t Y/N…” His voice breaks, “It’s not normal. My wife is dead Y/N. Vicki’s gone.” Tears resume falling down his cheeks and his breath is wracked with sobs.

“Misha.” You say sadly. “Come here. I know, come here.” You soothe, and he leans into your arms, his head resting on your shoulder.

“Jesus.” He breaths, “I’m sorry, I’m such a fucking idiot – I dragged you all the way up here, and I interrupted everyone at work. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“Misha, no.” You say sternly. “It’s okay – I’m glad Jensen called me, you’re allowed to feel this. You’re allowed to not be okay. Okay?”

Misha just nods into your shoulder, his breathing calming.

“Whatever you’re feeling? It’s okay – it’s normal. You lost somebody, and it’s good to grieve. I understand, everyone at work understands.”

Misha’s stopped crying and he slowly sits up.

“What did I do to deserve you?” He asks, smiling softly.

“Everything darling.” You say, cupping his cheek and smiling.

He sobers slightly. “I really am sorry for making you come all the way here.”

You shrug, “Eh, I’ve been wanting to see the set anyway.”

Misha smiles and relaxes, leaning in to kiss you.

“Love you.” He murmurs.

When Misha has a half-hour free – which isn’t for a while because he held up filming – he shows you around.

“And this is Jared’s trailer – which I once filled with sixteen-hundred dollars’ worth of change.” He says as you come to yet another trailer.

“You sound like a tour-guide.” You muse.

Misha laughs, but before he can say anything, Jared appears in the doorway.

“Oh hey Y/N. I see you got Misha out of his trailer.” He grins and walks over, slapping Misha on the shoulder.

“Hey moose.” You say.

Misha rolls his eyes, “She found our side of the internet.”

“I did. Have you guys seen all the erotic drawings there are of you guys?” You ask casually, making Jared laugh.

“Well, Misha did most of it so…” He replies, grinning.

Misha nods, “True.”

You have lunch with Jared and Misha before the former has to go back to filming.

“So.” Misha says, swinging his arm, and – by proxy – yours. “Just you and me.”

“Uh huh.” You laugh

“My trailer’s empty…” He smirks.

“Mish,” You laugh. “As much as I’d love to fuck you in your trailer – I have to pick the kids up from school.”

Misha rolls his eyes, “Another time.” He smiles at you lovingly. “Love you.”

Hearing those words still give you butterflies. “Love you too.”

You lean up to kiss him before breaking away to go back to your car.

On the drive home from school, West and Maison seem to be plotting in the back seat.

“What are you guys talking about?” You ask, eyeing them suspiciously in the rear- view mirror.

“Nothing.” They reply in unison.

“Sure.” You say incredulously, before shrugging. “Fine – don’t tell me. I’ll find out sooner or later.”

Maison wriggles around for a bit before blurting out, “At school they’re having a ‘bring your parent to school day’…”

“And we want you to come.” West finishes.

“Oh,” You say, surprised. “I- I’d love to.”

“Told you she’d say yes.” West giggles.

Suddenly tears are threatening to escape your eyes as you watch them in the back. This isn’t where you expected your life to be, but somehow it’s better than you could have imagined.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table; about to put the kids to bed, on your laptop, sipping tea – when you get a skype call from your mom.

“Hey mom.” You say as her face pops up on the screen.

“Hi honey. How are you? Beth tells us you’re in Washington?” She asks, smiling tightly.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks Beth.” You mutter. “It was kinda last minute.”

“Well,” She sighs. “As long as you’re happy.”

“I am.” You say just as you hear the pitter-patter of West running through. “Hey Westie.” You say, pulling him onto your lap.

“Who’s this?” Your mom asks, peering at her computer screen.

“Mom, this is West; Misha’s son. West, this is my mom.” You say, desperately hoping nobody says anything wrong.

“Well hello West, it’s nice to meet you.” Your mom smiles.

“Hi.” West smiles back shyly.

“Anyway, Y/N. I actually called because your father and I want you to come visit soon. Bring um, Misha and West if you like.”

“Oh,” You say in surprise. “I mean I’ll have to talk to Misha, he has a very busy schedule…”

“Yes, well. I just thought it would be nice, since we never see you anymore…” She snips.

“Alright, alright - I’ll sort something out.” You say, raising your hands in defence.

“Good.” She smiles. “Call us soon.”

“I will mom. Goodbye.” You end the call and sigh as West shimmies off your lap to go find Maison.

Misha doesn’t get home until one, but luckily you’re still awake.

“Hey babe.” You say, moving into his arms.

“Hey,” He says, kissing you tiredly. “You’re up late.”

“Mm,” You hum. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What is it?” Misha asks, walking you to the couch and sitting.

“Well,” You begin, sitting in his lap. “My mom wants to meet you.”

Misha raises an eyebrow. “A lotta people want to meet me, what sets her apart?” He smirks and you roll your eyes.

“She wants us to come visit with the kids. I told her you have a busy schedule, but she’s very persuasive.”

“Hm,” Misha thinks for a moment. “I have a few weeks after GISHWHES…”

You frown, “GISHWHES?”

His eyes go wide, “I haven’t told you about GISHWHES?” He exclaims, “How could I forget?!”

“Do tell.” You hide a grin at his adorable enthusiasm.

“So it stands for the Greatest International Scavenger Hunt the World has Ever Seen. It’s a week in August where I basically get people to do my bidding. We’ve broken a bunch of world records and it’s incredible. You’ll love it.”

“So are there teams, or what?” You ask, smirking.

“Yes… Why?”

You shrug, “Maybe I’ll put a team of my own together.”

Misha eyes you suspiciously. “You’re planning something…”

“Not at all darling.” You tease, before distracting him by unbuttoning his shirt.

“So we’re visiting your parents the third week in August?” He asks, somewhat breathless.

You nod, and he leans up to kiss you, his fingers ghosting over the exposed skin of your lower back.

In the morning you instantly regret sleeping on the couch as you stand and find all your muscles ache.

Misha has already left his position under you on the couch, to go make breakfast.

You wander into the kitchen where you find him making scrambled eggs wearing only underwear and an apron. It’s a good look.

“Good morning.” You murmur, nuzzling his exposed neck.

“Hey there.” He chuckles, turning to you. “Sleep well?”

“Not even slightly.” You say, “But it was worth it to wake up to this.”

Misha sighs contentedly, before remembering that he’s cooking.

“Fuck! Eggs,” He yelps as you both smell them start to burn.

You laugh and walk back to the kitchen table, watching Misha failing to salvage breakfast.

You woke earlier than you normally would, so you have some time before the kids get up.

“Oh yeah,” You say as you put your dishes in the sink. “West and Maison asked me to come to this ‘parent day’ or something at school.”

Misha looks up from his phone, surprised. “Oh, what did you say?”

You can’t tell his reaction yet. “I uh, I said I’d go.” You say cautiously, sitting across from him.

A small smile forms on his lips. “So… You’re cool with going?”

You nod. “Of course.”

He stands, walking round to embrace you wordlessly.

You laugh, falling backwards under his enthusiastic tackle. “Yeah yeah, love you too.”

You follow West into the classroom to see the slightly comical sight of everyone from business men to heavily pregnant women all sitting at kids’ desks next to them.

“I sit here.” West says, leading you to a desk near the back.

You sit down beside him, across from an overweight bald man sporting what look a lot like gang tattoos.

“Hi,” You smile at him. “I’m Y/N.”

He nods at you curtly. “Steve. I’m Tabitha’s dad.”

“Good to meet you. I’m, uh, here with West.” You smile.

“Okay kids, we’re gonna go around the room and introduce our parents okay?” The teacher, Miss Gulliver, says.

Each child goes around the room, says something along the lines of, “this is my daddy, he’s an accountant” and sits down. You start to worry what West is going to say about you.

It’s Tabitha’s turn, and she stands and says sweetly, “This is my dad, he’s a poet.” And sits back down.

It’s West’s turn. He stands, “This is Y/N, she’s a fucking awesome artist.”

You desperately try to stifle your laughter as Miss Gulliver’s eyes widen, “Now West, what have I told you about using bad words?” She says in a panic.

West giggles, “Sorry.” And sits down.

You do some more arbitrary social exercises before it’s home time.

As you’re leaving, Miss Gulliver stops you. “Miss erm, Y/N?” She says, giving you unpleasant school flashbacks.

“Yes?”

“Could I speak to you for a moment?” She gives you a sour smile.

“Uh, sure.” You say cautiously, walking over to her desk.

“Please, have a seat.” She gestures at the tiny chairs in front of her desk.

“Okay…” You say, sitting down.

“I just wanted to ask… Well, to put it bluntly – who you are.” She says, before adding, “We know that, sadly, West’s mother passed away recently – and, well… Now you’re here and West is swearing…” Her tone is clipped.

You smile a little, “Apologies Miss Gulliver, but I find it hard to believe the language wasn’t an issue before.” You smirk humorously. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’m Misha – their father’s - partner.” You say, extending a hand.

She takes it, looking a little startled. “Oh, right. We weren’t aware Mr Collins already had a new girlfriend.”

Her tone makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and you tilt your head. “Well I’m sorry nobody informed you, but we’ve been a little busy with the funeral et cetera.” Which wasn’t exactly true, but this teacher was pissing you off.

“Uh huh, well, we know the impact that moving on so fast can have on children at this age and I can’t help but wonder…”

“Well don’t.” You cut her off sharply. “We’re fine, thank you very much and I sure as hell don’t need some lonely elementary school teacher telling me how to live. I think we’ll be going now.” You stand, picking up your purse. “It was good to meet you.” You say, your words thick with sarcasm – and walk over to where West had been playing. You take his hand, “Come on Westie, time to go.” You say, and walk out of the building.

You get into the car, still mildly annoyed, before finally dropping your head to the steering wheel. “Shit.” You say, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Y/N?” West asks from the back.

You straighten up. “Yeah West?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine West, I just um… It’s fine. Let’s go get Maison.”

“Hey babe.” You say as when Misha appears in the bedroom.

“Hey, how was the school thing?” He asks, closing the door and stripping off his shirt.

“Um,” You say, about an octave too high. “Nah, it was fine…”

Misha raises an eyebrow, sliding into bed next to you. “That bad huh?”

You chuckle nervously. “No, it was mostly fine. It’s just… I may have seriously pissed off the teacher.”

“Miss Gulliver?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s a bitch, don’t worry about it.” He says casually.

“Yeah?” You laugh, relieved.

“Uh huh. I think me and Vicki already set a bad precedent anyway.” He smiles fondly.

“Thank god, I was scared I had dishonoured the family or something.” You laugh.

“Out of curiosity, what did you do?” He asks carefully.

“Oh, well West said I was a ‘fucking awesome artist’ - which, by the way, I wonder who taught him that - in front of all the parents and then she pulled me aside and told me she thought that you had ‘moved on too fast’, so I told her I didn’t want her opinion as a lonely elementary teacher and stormed off.” You wince, waiting for Misha’s reaction.

He laughs raucously. “Good for you. She had it coming.” He says, leaning across to kiss you.

He pulls away, “Oh, also – my mom wants to meet you.”

You swallow nervously. “She does?”

“Yeah,” Misha shrugs. “It’s my birthday at the end of August, so I thought maybe after going to your parents, we could visit my mom.” Before he adds bashfully, “If you want.”

“Uh, yeah – okay.” You say, somewhat fearfully.

“Come on,” He laughs. “My mom will love you. I should warn you, she’s a little crazy, but you have been living with me for a few months – so you should be pretty acclimatised.”

Hearing Misha talk calms you. “Yeah, no – I look forward to it.” You smile. “It’s just a little intimidating. I don’t even know her name.”

“Her name’s Rebecca.” He smiles softly.

“Okay,” You breathe. “Cool.”

Misha has a week off after Friday, so naturally he’s in the kitchen on his phone – as usual.

When you walk in he quickly holds the phone to his chest, “You wanna be in a livestream?” He asks quietly.

You shrug, “Sure, why not.”

“Don’t say anything incriminating.” He chuckles, lifting the phone back up to show his face. “Y/N’s here, and she just needs to sign the NDA and she can talk…”

“What?”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He laughs, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You rest a hand on his shoulder and peer at the screen. “Hey guys,” You say, smiling.

“We were just doing a GISHWHES Q&A.” Misha explains. “Does anyone have any questions for Y/N, now she’s here?”

You watch dozens of comments go by, trying to read them. “What’s it like being Misha’s girlfriend?” You read, resting your head on Misha’s shoulder and smile happily. “Absolutely… Terrible. Atrocious, honestly; as you’d expect. This is easy, next question.”

You smirk as Misha laughs, nodding. “It’s true; I’m a terrible person and an even worse boyfriend.”

You grin and lift your head to read more questions. “Will you be doing GISHWHES?” You smirk mysteriously. “Perhaps. Maybe I’ll join one of you guys’ teams…” You muse.

“Here’s one.” Misha says, “Who’s your favourite Supernatural character?” He smirks, assuming you don’t know any of their names.

“Hmm,” You ponder, “Definitely Dean because he’s clearly the best looking. Next question?”

Misha rolls his eyes and walks away with the phone. “It looks like Y/N won’t be doing livestreams any more… How unfortunate,”

You chase after him, laughing. “Okay, okay. Of course it’s Castiel because he’s the most attractive.” You say, catching up to Misha, who’s still holding the camera away from you.

“Really? Are you sure about that?” He teases, before you grab the phone from his hand. “Hey!” He yelps, chasing after you as you saunter away with it.

“So, I’ve taken over Misha’s livestream – what do you guys want to talk about?” You laugh, still dodging Misha, who’s desperately trying to get his phone back.

“Fine,” He says, raising his hands and walking away in defeat. “You do the livestream, see if I care.”

“See,” You say to the phone, “He thinks reverse psychology will work on me – but I think he’s forgetting I’m not five.” You say as you make your way into your studio.

You read through some of the comments saying you and Misha are adorable, before seeing some questions.

“Where am I?” You read. “I’m in the room Misha very kindly let me use as a studio.” You lift the phone to show some of the room, careful to avoid the painting of Misha and the kids.

“What’s Misha like in bed?” You laugh. “Well, he doesn’t snore and he’s a light sleeper and…” You say seriously. “I know, I know that isn’t what you meant, you dirty-minded people.” You chuckle. “I should probably give Misha back his livestream before he starts plotting against me.” You say, walking back to find Misha. “But before I go, I was serious about having some of you guys on my GISHWHES team so… I’ll figure that out soon.”

“Have you gotten bored of my fans?” Misha asks, taking back his phone.

“I’ll have you know they’re very entertaining.” You say defensively. “I just didn’t want to restrict their Misha face-time because unlike me, they can’t see your pretty face every day.”

Misha furrows his eyebrows. “Pretty?”

“Yes darling, you have a very pretty face.” You say, booping his nose.

Chapter Fourteen

#Supernatural RPF #fanfiction #misha collins #misha x reader #misha collins/reader #fluff #smut #gishwhes #emotional comfort

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