#the boot where they hug literally knocked me the hell out I was holding back tears and everything

[24601orwhatever]

I get the whole appeal behind the “JVJ despises Marius” thing, but in the context of the musical, their relationship being more tender is so SO good

Marius being so excited to have a father again, only to lose him immediately after … valjean saying goodbye to “the son [he] might have known” 🙅🏻‍♂️

[tempobaekh]

Short N’ Sweet

pairings: frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, suggestive, allusions to sex at the end and a tiny mention of sexual acts?? readers physical appearance is not mentioned

a/n: i am going absolutely feral for this man, like foaming at the mouth feral, gnawing at the bars of my enclosure kind of feral. and i also love sabrina and because of Halloween i got this idea, this might be a little late since yknow Halloween is over but i just got this idea so we can ignore that:) also i wanna thank my biggest fav frank writer @agirlcandream84 for inspiring me to write this. i absolutely love her work and the way she writes frank please go read some of her work. okay enough yapping from me

Halloween night was finally here, and you could barely contain your excitement. The costume you’d been planning had been kept under wraps—literally—and you’d teased Frank endlessly about it, keeping him guessing for weeks, knowing full well the look on his face would be priceless.

Ever since you’d seen Sabrina Carpenter's iconic outfits from her Short N’ Sweet tour, the idea had taken root. Glitz, glam, a bit of sparkle, and a lot of confidence—that was going to be your vibe tonight. And you knew it would knock Frank’s socks off.

Or maybe more like knock his pants off.

Frank, being Frank, wasn’t exactly putting in the same level of effort. He’d gone with his usual all-black getup: a black shirt that fit him just right, dark pants, combat boots, and his well-worn jacket. Not much of a costume, but with his gruff demeanor and dark eyes, he still looked intense and dangerously handsome.

You’d teased him about needing a 'proper' Halloween costume, but he’d only smirked, knowing you’d be the one to steal the show. Still, he was eager to see you; he���d been waiting all week, and you could feel the thrill of his anticipation even through the closed door.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he called out.

With one last deep breath, you slipped on a towel and cinched it tight around your chest, and stepped out of the bathroom, strutting a little as your heels clicked on the hardwood as you made your way toward him

He looked up when he heard you approaching, his gaze immediately sharpening with curiosity. You watched as his eyes narrowed slightly, scanning you up and down in curiosity. "You gonna tell me what the costume is, sweetheart?” he asked, a little smirk creeping onto his lips.

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you took a step closer, letting him get a little look at your carefully styled hair and the faint sparkle of the makeup you’d applied.

“Mm, you could say that,” you teased, giving him a wink. “But the real costume’s under here. Want to see?”

“Hell yes, I do,” he murmured, his gaze darkening, lips twitching in that half-smile of his that always drove you wild. “C’mon, darlin’—let me see it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You took a step back, giving him a grin, and with a flourish, you unwrapped the towel and tossed it aside, holding out your arms as you posed.

Frank’s reaction was immediate. His jaw went slack, his dark eyes going wide as he took you in. His gaze roamed up and down, lingering on every detail—from your heels up your bare legs, taking in the glittering, skin-colored tights that shimmered like liquid gold. He lingered on the lacy, sparkling red bodysuit that hugged every curve perfectly, bedazzled in red crystals that caught the light with each tiny shift and gave you an ethereal, almost unreal glow. The garters—lacy, sparkling, and just suggestive enough to make his jaw clench—added an extra edge to the look.

When he finally found his voice, he only managed a rough, “Damn, sweetheart.”

Laughing, you spun around, tossing the towel aside and letting him see the details you’d added just for him. He took in the bedazzled kiss mark on the top of your right inner thigh, positioned right where he always planted kisses with his face and tongue buried between your legs as you writhe and moan with pleasure under him. And when you turned around, you knew he’d see the second kiss mark on your left shoulder blade—another favorite spot of his when he has you on your hands and knees and thrusting into you from behind.

You felt the air between you shift, and a shiver ran down your spine at the brief image in your head.

“You like it?” you asked, turning around and looking at him, enjoying the way his eyes roamed over you, taking in every last detail.

Frank’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed the distance between you, his large hands resting on your hips before he traced one finger down to that kiss mark on your thigh.

"Sweetheart…" he murmured, sounding almost reverent. “You look…”

"Too much?" You asked, feigning a worried tone, but you couldn’t hide your smile.

"Too much? No… no, darlin’, it's perfect," he said, reaching out to gently run a hand along your arm, his fingers grazing the crystals. His voice was low, roughened with restrained desire as he brushed his thumb over the spot. “Did you put this here just for me?”

You smiled, heart racing. “Maybe. Figured it might be a nice little reminder for you.”

His fingers skimmed up to your waist, tugging you closer, his hands warm and possessive. “Can’t lie… I’m definitely thinkin’ about ditchin’ Josie’s altogether tonight.”

“But it’s Halloween,” you teased, giving him a look that only seemed to make him hungrier. “We can’t just skip it, Frankie. Besides, I want to show off a little.”

“You’re killin’ me here,” he muttered, his voice dropping as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your neck. His fingers flexed against your waist. “Whole place is gonna be starin’ at you. Don’t think I’m gonna be able to keep my hands off you, darlin’.”

You laughed softly. "Guess you'll have to try, Castle."

He let out a low groan, and you felt his hands slide lower to your behind. "Yeah, easy for you to say when you’re wearin’… this." His eyes dipped down to the kiss mark on your thigh, a possessive gleam in his gaze as pulle away and traced the outline with his thumb again. "This here… You’re just tryin’ to drive me insane, aren’t ya?"

You shrugged, an innocent smile on your face. "Maybe. Or maybe I’m just giving you something to look forward to, and besides, you're the only one who gets to take it off me.”

That got his attention. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You keep talkin’ like that, and we’re not makin’ it to Josie’s tonight, baby. But we’re not stayin’ long. Got… plans for when we get back.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the grin across your face. "Come on, big guy. Try to survive the night without dragging me home too early."

When you arrived at Josie’s to meet up with Karen and her friends from her law firm, you caught more than a few looks. Heads turned, eyes lingered, and you could feel Frank tense beside you, his arm protectively draped around your waist as he pulled you in close.

Every now and then, he’d lean down to murmur, “You know, you’re lucky I’m keepin’ it together.”

“Oh, I know,” you replied each time with a wink, enjoying every bit of his attention.

As the night went on, Frank’s hands couldn’t seem to leave you alone, not that you minded. They’d drift to the small of your back, settle on your hip, or tug you closer to him. It wasn’t possessive so much as it was protective—he just wanted you to himself and wasn’t shy about it.

The night was fun, filled with drinks, laughs, and compliments from Karen and Marci who appreciated the sheer effort you’d put into your costume. But the real thrill was feeling Frank’s hand skimming along your waist, his fingers brushing the bare skin where your tights met your bodysuit. Every time he leaned down to murmur something downright filthy in your ear, you could feel the low, restrained fire in his voice that would make your thighs clench.

Finally, as midnight approached, Frank leaned in close, voice low and warm against your ear. "Alright, darlin’. I think we’ve done our part here. Time to go home."

You couldn’t help but smile as you glanced up at him. "Couldn’t wait to get me alone, huh?"

"Not one bit," he admitted, his fingers lacing through yours as he led you out of Josie’s and into the cool night air.

The drive back home felt like a blur, and as soon as you got home, his hands were on you the second you closed the door. He pulled you close, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

Frank’s lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak, his hands roaming your back with an almost desperate energy. His touch was firm but reverent, like he was savoring every inch of you. The smooth leather of his jacket pressed cool against your bare arms as he pulled you flush against him, his strength and warmth radiating through the layers between you.

“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and thick with want. His hand drifted to your thigh, his fingers brushing over the kiss mark there, and he let out a soft, possessive growl. “This right here? This ain’t fair.”

You smiled against his mouth, your breath hitching as his fingers teased along the edge of your garter. "I thought you liked it," you teased, your voice a little breathless.

"Like it?" He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes blazing as they swept over you. "I can’t think straight, darlin’. All night, all I’ve been thinkin’ about is gettin’ you alone."

His hands slipped to your hips, gripping just firmly enough to remind you of his strength as he guided you back toward the couch. You let out a soft laugh, but it caught in your throat when he leaned down, trailing kisses along your jaw, then down your neck. He paused just at the hollow of your throat, his stubble grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Frankie…” you whimpered, your hands tangling in his hair as his lips continued their path, brushing over the crystals adorning your shoulder blade.

He hummed against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing. “You knew exactly what you were doin’, wearin’ this,” he said, his tone somewhere between a grumble and a purr. His fingers toyed with the edge of the bodysuit, skimming over the the crystals adorning the fabric. “You’re lucky I got any patience left.”

"Maybe I don’t want you to be patient," you replied, your voice soft but laced with mischief as you tugged him back to meet your lips.

Frank chuckled darkly, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. "Careful what you ask for, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours. The way he said it, low and promising, sent a thrill straight through you.

And with that, he captured your lips again, deeper this time, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was setting the stage for something as bold and electric as the confidence you wore tonight.

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

[the-lighwood-who-lived]

Please Don't Leave - Jace x Reader

Jace messes up, big time. Will he manage to make amends in time or is it not meant to be? ( why the hell am i being so cryptic)

‘JONATHON CHRISTOPHER HERONDALE!’ the name echoed throughout the institute, making a shiver run down Jace’s back. Everyone knew this scream. It was Izzy, had to be. Jace desperately tried to think of how he could have possible upset his devil for a sister as Izzy’s boots clicked down the hall, as she walked up to him.

She pulled him down by his collar before flipping him, ‘You never learn, do you?’ she said. Jace wasn’t hurt, only his dignity. He got up with as much self-respect as he had left and asked her sassily, ‘ Mind telling me whats wrong though?’

‘Whats the date?’ she asked, her voice dangerously low. It was the 28th …. what was on the 28th of September? NO! how could he have ever forgotten! Realisation dawned on him as Izzy just shook her head, ‘ This isn’t the first time your forgetting Jace, she doesn’t even hope anymore.’

This was terrible… Jace remembered 28th of September, this very day, a few years ago, when he met her. She knocked the breathe out of him, literally. They first met in the training room, she had him pinned in under a minute. That was they day he met Y/N, Izzy’s parabatai. That was four years ago, and for the third time, Jace had forgotten their anniversary.

He loved her, they had been through hell and back, this year, of all the years, he shouldn’t have forgotten. The battle scars from the Dark War were hardly healed. He sat down on the closest chair, not knowing how he could have messed up to this extent. ‘Where is she?’ he asked Izzy. She sat down next to him, he was her brother after all, she knew the regret weighing on him. ‘She’s with Alec and Simon, practicing archery… She’s upset Jace, we’re parabatai, I can feel it.’ Izzy says.

Jace nodded at Izzy before walking to the training room. He found her there, just as Izzy said, working herself to the max. He tried lightening the mood, hugged her from behind. ‘Hello’ he whispered. She elbowed him hard in the ribs as she walked to the bench for some water.

He went behind her, ‘Y/N, hun, I’m sorry’ he said kneeling in front of her. She refused to look at him, scared that she won’t be able to hold up her stoic façade. It may not have been a big deal to others, but to her it meant a great deal and he knows it. Running into the fray anytime, anywhere, changes you. Little things matter.

‘Look at me..’ he said, turning her face with one finger, but trailed off as he saw hurt and betrayal in her eyes. He would kill anyone who hurt her, he’s never had to of course, cause she is more than capable of doing that herself. The only people who could actually hurt her, were the ones who she opened up so vulnerably to. ‘Forgive me Y/N, one last time… please…’ he whispered.

‘Do you care anymore Jace?’ she spoke to him for the first time that day. Jace was taken aback by that, he cared, he cared more than anyone could imagine. ‘Its been a few months since the Dark War Jace.. the war that made me lose everything, you are supposed to be my rock…I can’t love you if you don’t meet me halfway…’ She said stoically. A terrible fear grew in Jace, worse than the fear of death… the fear of losing her.

‘I love you, your are my sun and my moon. Do you think I could ever stop caring?’ Jace stood up determined. ‘Meet me in the Missions Hall in 5’ he said. ‘Jace-‘ Y/N began.

He cut her off though. ‘Please… come’ he said as her ran off. She did, of course she did. One last time before letting go. Alec, Simon , Izzy and Clary were there too, but they were… smiling?

Music played out of nowhere. Wait… she knew this song…A voice, beautiful in her memory as ever started singing to her. Jace.

When you feel your love's been taken When you know there's something missing In the dark, we're barely hanging on Then you rest your head upon my chest And you feel like there ain't nothing left I'm afraid that what we had is gone

Then I think of the start And it echoes a spark And I remember the magic electricity Then I look in my heart There's a light in the dark Still a flicker of hope that you first gave to me That I wanna keep Please don't leave Please don't leave

He stopped there, knelt down in front of her.

‘Never again should those eyes fill up because of me… Every time I wake up next to you, I feel stronger. Every time you smile, I feel alive. Every time you make me watch those Disney movies, my dignity dies, but to hear you laugh is worth it. The sun and all the stars in this universe will die before I give up on our love. Will you, Y/N Y/L/N, do me the honour- or royally break my heart – and marry me?’ He said, the great Jace Herondale was in tears, with a rose gold ring in his hand.

She hesitated, his heart shattered. Then she broke into the most beautiful smile ever, the warrior, the soldier, Y/N. ‘You and me Herondale, to the end of days. I will marry you Jonathan’ She says. That’s all she had to say, he jumped up and picked her up into a hug.

He kissed her, not with aggressive Herondale passion, but with all the joy of this second chance. That’s her Jace.

[lottiethroughthelookingglass]

15x20 Coda

Can’t believe it’s the year of our Lord 2020 and I’m writing Supernatural fix it fics at 3am.... This truly is the bad place. Anyway here’s what happened immediately after the credits rolled on whatever that was...

“Sam and Dean stood, arms around each other looking out towards the vista. Heaven. Their heaven. United again, after everythi-“

“-Is he for real?”

“That’s what was saved on my computer. Supernatural – Final Draft.”

“This is bullshit.”

Becky shrugged, taking her laptop back from Sam as his face twitched uncomfortably. 

“Who did I even marry? Like, it wasn’t even Eileen?”

“I don’t know man but you named your kid after me. I’m holding you to that one.”

“I don’t even want kids. Our lives are crazy. Why would I do that to a kid?”

“Well I’m just glad Chuck didn’t get to go ahead with that one.” Becky said, sitting back down with her laptop, “I mean all of his drafts were honestly terrible but that one… I mean it didn’t even make sense considering your character arcs. Dean literally died like he thought he would at the beginning of the series and Sam, grows old with a random woman and doesn’t do anything with his life and not even mentioning Cas even though he was right there in heaven-“

Becky looked up to find Sam and Dean staring at her.

“I’m sorry, not that you guys are just characters or anything. But just, when I came back and I found that I was really worried you’d actually died in barn because you fell on a nail.”

“Yeah well I will be avoiding all barns from now on.”

Thunk. The three of them looked up to where Cas had knocked over a Funko Pop Sam.

“Sorry,” Cas readjusted Funko Sam so he could go back to back to fighting Funko Crowley.

There was an awkward moment of silence as the group processed the revelation of Chuck’s ending. Becky sipped her tea as Cas sat back down next to Dean. Dean looked over to him, their eyes met briefly and they shared a small smile.

“Did I never even ask about Cas?” Sam shook his head breaking the silence. “Like, you come back from fighting Billie and say he’s dead and I just… never question it?”

“Well, none of you seemed very upset about my death in that story.” He turned back to Dean, “You were far more concerned with the pie and the dog.”

“To be fair that was probably the only thing that felt right there – pie is more important.”

Cas rolled his eyes and picked up another biscuit from the tray Becky had brought them. Ever since becoming human again he’d picked up a real sweet tooth. Dean was silently waiting for when Sam would start having a go at him too about healthy diets.

Like hell I’m going because of a rusty nail in a barn, Dean thought, I’m getting killed by a heart attack and Cas’s gonna die of diabetes. Sammy’ll still get to outlive us both though.

“It’d be nice to think Jack is doing that with heaven though.” Sam said, “You know, rebuilding things, making it actually good.”

“I guess we’ll have to see when we get there. Which will not be soon, we fought for a bit of peace and I’m intending to actually enjoy mine.”

“We can just ask him next time he’s home.” Cas added.

Dean shook his head stifling a laugh with his hand, “Can you imagine if we’d made him God I mean- He’s three for crying out loud. He made me buy him a Marvellous Marvin the Talking Teddy three months ago.”

“You bought him that?”

“Wait so Jack didn’t become God?”

“God no, no he’s not God.” Dean plucked the biscuit Cas had just picked up out of his hand and started to eat it, “I mean he is up in heaven, but he’s just helping Michael get things running again with all the angels back from the Empty.”

“I’m confused, so you didn’t kill Chuck?”

“Noash fukind matr-“

“Chuck’s gone, but he’s not dead.” Sam interrupted the garbled explanation Dean was trying to make through a mouthful of cookie. “We found a way to umm- bind him I guess? In his own mind so he didn’t even know it was happening. Rowena and I did the spell and Dean set the trap.”

“I was still as useless as in Chuck’s version.” Cas clarified taking another biscuit to make up for his stolen one.

“Hey, if you hadn’t saved me from Billie we’d all have been toast. You were key.”

“Wait so Chuck’s not human and he’s not dead?”

“No- God I can’t believe he made himself human. I can’t believe we made him human and then said that was a punishment – sorry, no he’s kind of in a uhhh…”

“Alternate universe.” Sam added, “but one just for him. It’s more like an alternative plane of reality inside his own mind where he can write whatever stories he wants and think they’re real but they’re not. They can’t hurt anyone.”

“But he’s God so…. They might be real? He could be making them real.”

Sam twisted his mouth thinking, it was something he’d considered but didn’t want to dwell on.

“Well it’s not us.” Dean declared, “And honestly, if he makes another world with other Sams and Deans and Cas’s and Jacks then they’ll defeat him some other way. Like Inception, but with God!” He grinned at his reference even as the rest of the room ignored him.

Becky leant back in her armchair letting out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you guys are ok. You too Cas, he was really adamant about killing you off.”

“Dean was very adamant about bringing me back.” Cas looked over to Dean, a soft smile and look of adoration of his face.

Dean blushed, trying to cover it up with a cough. “Yeah well, I had some stuff to say.”

Becky grinned, taking a sip of her tea as Sam suddenly started to find the wallpaper very interesting.

“So, what are you guys going to do know?” Becky asked after the moment had become sufficiently awkward. “I mean no Chuck, no apocalypse, no world to save. Are you going to keep hunting, or…?”

Sam, Dean and Cas looked at each other.

“I don’t know,” Sam said. 

“Honestly, I’m thinking Chuck had it right with the pie festival.”

Becky and Sam laughed at that.

Cas took another biscuit

***

Dean closed the boot of the Impala with a soft thud. Becky had given each of them one of her dioramas she sold on Etsy. It was always a bit weird being reminded that their life was a story that some people liked to collect stuff from for fun but he had to admit the miniature scale replica of Baby she’d given him was awesome.

Sam stood at the door giving Becky a hug and thanking her for the lunch. She hadn’t quite explained to the rest of the family who these three strange large men were that were randomly joining them for lunch beyond “They’re just some Supernatural fans I know from the internet.” Her husband had spent the entire time struggling to believe that lie even moreso after Cas had slightly traumatised one of the kids with an in-depth description of the dangers of invasive wasps to honey bee colonies.

Dean wandered over to where Cas stood beside Sam and Becky.

“Thanks again for checking on us Becky.” Dean said, accepting the hug she gave him.

“Of course, I always knew you’d beat him but it’s good to know for sure.”

“Sure is.” Dean took a step back, “Well I guess we’ll be seeing you?”

“Next Supernatural convention?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Even if there’s a ghost?”

“You do know we’re not the only hunters in America.” 

Becky bit her lip.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she paused, “it’s just, this is exactly how I would have written it.”

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise, Dean brows knitted as Cas tilted his head.

“I don’t- not that you had to go through all that. Just that now you can actually take a break. Be normal, do your laundry-“

“-Sam and Dean have always done their laundry. That’s how they clean their clothes.” Cas piped up in confusion.

“-Be happy. Get to actually enjoy living in the world you saved. Have free will and be at peace.”

Dean chuckled, “I mean I’m personally good with never doing my laundry. But you’re right, it’s weird but good.”

“We’ll stay in touch Becky.” Sam said.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

They waved their goodbyes and walked back over to the Impala. Dean got in behind the wheel, Sam in shotgun and Cas in the back.

Turning the key the Impala revved to life. The radio began to sing, the opening chords to Kansas’s Carry on Wayward Song filling the car. 

Dean slammed the radio off.

“God, I think Chuck has forever ruined that song for me.”

Sam laughed, in the back Cas even let out a chuckle as he leant his head against the window ready for the long drive home.

It wasn’t their heaven. Not yet anyway. And that made it so much more.

[wordsnwhiskey]

As It Should Be | Chapter 4: Company

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Summary: Whiskey gets a surprised call and he and Frankie have a long talk.

Rating: M

Warnings: Talks of drug use, alcohol, mentions of character death, mentions of canon typical violence, PTSD, violent nightmare

A/N: I really wanted this conversation to happen between these two given their respective histories. We all know that Whiskey needed therapy and in this verse he gets it. It’s also my HC, from what I vaguely know (I’m not an expert and I could be very wrong), that Whiskey was an officer in the Air Force where he flew/placed in jets and that’s how he knows how to fly an F-22 (The Silver Pony).

We are getting some angst and some fluff this time folks!

Also, yes I do have a specific soap in mind for Whiskey, it's Old Glory by Duke Cannon

Huge special thanks to mi esposa @danniburgh and my friend Agent Capri Sun for the betas and encouragement!!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 3: Statesmen & Demons | AO3

He was drowning. He needed...something. He needed help.

Frankie pulled his phone out, went to the recent number that was, as of yet, unsaved, and pressed ‘call’. His shaky hand brought the phone up to his ear as the line rang.

Whiskey’s hair was still wet from his shower, and his white t-shirt clung to his damp skin. Eyeing the take out on his counter, he sank into his couch and smiled at your texts:

Whiskey: Thai sound good, sweetheart?

Bourbon: God yes Jack, I’m starving!

Whiskey: I’ll let you know when I get outta the shower, see you soon sweetheart

He was just about to send you a message to come on over when his phone rang. Glancing at the clock on his stove, then back to the unfamiliar Texas number on his caller ID, he frowned.

“Whiskey.”

His greeting was curt. Who the hell would be calling at 8:30 pm on a Wednesday?

“H-hey Whiskey, it’s me, Frankie. Is… uh, is she there?”

Whiskey’s frown deepened, not that he minded Frankie calling him, far from it, but his voice was cracking like he’d been... crying?

“Oh, hey there, Flyboy. No she isn’t, do you need me to get her?”

“N-no, no… I, uh, I don’t want her to see me right now. I’m, uh,” Whiskey could hear Frankie take a deep breath on the other side of the line. “I’m having a bad night, Jack. Could you come get me? I’m at the hotel.”

Jack shot straight up, practically leaping to his feet.

“Did you…?”

The question clung to the air like lead, crushing both of their chests in the silence.

“No, I haven’t… I just… fuck.”

Jack was moving, grabbing his leather jacket, keys, and Stetson, practically sprinting out the door.

“Don’t worry about it, Flyboy. I’m headed your way.”

He shifted his weight while he waited for the elevator to take him to the parking garage, shooting off a quick text to you in apology. Frankie’s words, “I don’t want her to see me,” rung in his ears and he decided to hold off on telling you what had come up, at least until he could see you at the office tomorrow.

Whiskey: Hey sweetheart, sorry something came up and I can’t do dinner tonight. Everything’s fine, see you at the office, sugar. X

Your phone went off and you quickly unlocked it, eager to hear back from Jack so you could head over. A frown pulled the corners of your lips down at his text, but you knew he wouldn’t cancel on you without good reason.

You: See you tomorrow, cowboy. Better make it up to me ;)

Frankie had left the door slightly ajar and was pacing around his room, arms crossed in front of him when he heard a quick knock, then the handle was turning and Whiskey crossed the threshold. He took a cursory glance around the room: nothing but minibar booze bottles, thankfully. Whiskey let out a sigh of relief that was short-lived when he took in Frankie’s demeanor. Frankie’s face was taut with shame, and his gaze refused to rise any higher than Whiskey’s boots.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” Frankie choked out, “ Pope, and Hawk… I can’t disappoint them again. I’ve been clean for three years, and I didn’t…”

Jack shook his head and beckoned Frankie over, wrapping his arm around the other man’s shoulders and pulling him in for a quick, tight hug.

“C’mon, Flyboy, this is not the time nor the place to talk about this. I’m taking you back to my place, and we’re gonna have some whiskey that’s much better than what you’ve had here, and then we can talk.”

Frankie nodded and grabbed his hat, planting it on his head as Whiskey tugged him out of the hotel room. He was so deep in his thoughts and his guilt for having Whiskey come out that he didn’t realize where he was until the elevator dinged. Whiskey unlocked and opened the door to his condo, giving way to a view so incredible Frankie almost forgot to breathe. Across from the entryway, on the far side of the condo, the gorgeous New York night skyline twinkled back at them from beyond the wall of glass windows. Frankie marveled at the rustic elegance of Jack’s home. It had an entirely open floor plan, giving Frankie a view of the dark cherry butcher block island, the top-of-the-line range top, and other appliances, all immaculately clean. For a moment, he wondered if that was because Whiskey ordered out more than he cooked, but then he saw the bags of takeout on the counter and immediately felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, looks like I interrupted your dinner plans.”

Whiskey closed and locked the door behind him, hanging his jacket up on the nearby hook. He glanced over at the takeout, then put his hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, partner. I just told her something came up. You hungry? I ordered her Drunken Noodles, be a shame to put them to waste.”

Frankie was about to decline when his stomach rumbled, and Whiskey chuckled.

“C’mon, Flyboy, go sit down on the couch and I’ll bring the food and some whiskey round.”

With a nod, he toed his dress shoes off (they were all he had without his go bag) and made for the brown leather couch. He sat down a bit stiffly, feeling awkward given the circumstances. Whiskey brought over the containers of food, handing one to Frankie and resting his own on the coffee table before grabbing them the promised drinks. He sat down, and Frankie took his drink in one hand, relishing in the smooth burn as he took a sip, then set it down to dive into his food.

They ate in a relaxed and cozy silence. Frankie finished first, which wasn’t a surprise. When Whiskey finished, he took Frankie’s empty container with him to toss in the garbage before he made his way back. An awkward silence replaced the previous comfortable one, and Frankie found himself having a hard time pulling his gaze from the amber liquid in his glass. Whiskey took a deep breath, then turned on the couch to face Frankie.

“Santiago said you’ve been clean for three years? That’s quite the accomplishment.”

“Yeah, thanks. Doesn’t really feel like it right now. I feel like I failed. I’m worried I’ll slip up.”

“I don’t think you will, Frankie. Neither do Pope or Bourbon.”

Jack didn’t know why, but the words rang true in his mind, even though he hadn’t known Frankie for very long.

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy to throw three years of hard work away, Flyboy.”

A small smile tugged at Frankie’s lips and he took a sip from his glass.

“Must’ve been weird for Halcón. Last time she saw me, fuck, I was barely with it. The suspension hit me hard. I had been getting my shit together before Colombia and the funeral. I just wanted to be able to fly. I couldn’t and still can’t stand the idea of being grounded. That, and I knew my fianceé would leave me if I didn’t get it together. But then, well, we all went to Colombia.”

“I couldn’t imagine being grounded. I don’t fly often, but to not have the option? I dunno what I’d do.”

Whiskey shook his head and grimaced. Frankie perked up, head snapping to meet Whiskey’s gaze.

“You fly?”

“Mmmhmm, was in the Air Force for a bit, did jets. Statesmen has an F-22, the Silver Pony, that I fly.”

A small buzz of excitement was washing over Frankie, and he subconsciously scooted closer to Whiskey. He didn’t really have anyone to talk to about flying, even if helicopters and jets were two very different means of flying.

“What made you risk it, Flyboy? What happened in Colombia?”

Frankie frowned and let out a deep sigh.

“Pope had been down there for a few years, chasing a narco named Gabriel Martín Lorea. He finally got a break when his CI told him she knew where he was hiding out and where he was stashing his money. He showed up outta the blue asking us, our old team, to come down and do recon, $17k just for a week of recon. If we wanted to stay on after that, we’d be entitled to 25% of whatever we seized, and the rumour was that Lorea had $75M on him. I’m guessing Halcón was busy with a mission for you guys, and I’m glad she was. It ended up being a fucking shitshow.”

Whiskey noted the faraway look in Frankie’s eyes as he sighed and took another swig from his glass, shaking his head as Frankie recalled the events.

“After the recon, Pope said he thought we could do the job ourselves, take all the money and not tell the local governments. We found out that the local agency hadn’t been the ones to pay us the $17k. That had come out of Pope’s pocket. He was so sure that the locals were on Lorea’s payroll, and if he went to the local agency, Lorea would disappear with the money. At the end of the day, none of us could say no. Turned out the rumors of Lorea having $75M were wrong. The house was stuffed, literally, with cash. Tom, our captain, got greedy. He ignored our hard-out time and insisted we take more loads of cash. We ended up stealing close to $250M, then we burned the house down.”

Whiskey whistled. “$250M is a lot of money, partner…”

Frankie barked out a humorless laugh, his eyes rueful.

“Too much. Our helo couldn’t take it all and make it over the Andes. I knew it before take off, and I warned Tom and Pope, but all any of us could see was the money. Tom didn’t want to leave it on the runway. I almost had us over the Andes when a gearbox blew, and I had to get us back to flat. We had to cut the money net, and it was just our luck that it happened to be over a coke farm. It was a bad landing. I honestly don’t know how none of us were seriously injured, but Pope and Tom went to go and convince the farmers to get out of the money. Our comms were out, so we were going off of hand signals. Tom got too trigger happy, and he dropped a few of the villagers. I-I provided cover fire, too…”

Frankie hung his head, no matter how much Will, Benny, or Pope had tried to reassure him, he still held an enormous amount of guilt over what had happened. He felt Whiskey’s hand rest on his shoulder, and he leaned into the touch.

“That’s what you were trained to do, Flyboy. You couldn’t have known any different, especially without comms.”

Frankie nodded, taking a large gulp of his whiskey, then continued on.

“A couple days later, we took fire in the mountains, and they got Tom. It ended up being a kid and another guy from the coke farm. We killed them, but there was nothing we could do for Tom. Headshot, he died instantly. 10 years we all served together, and then he was gone, leaving behind an ex and two daughters. It could have been any one of us though, Jack… we all took lives during that mission. Tom just took the wrong ones. It… it could have been me even, I shot some of those villagers, too.”

Frankie felt Whiskey’s grip on his shoulder tighten and looked up to see the empathetic sadness of someone who truly understood how he felt reflected back in Whiskey’s eyes. Frankie cleared his throat.

“We ended up bailing on a lot of the cash, taking only what we could carry in our daypacks and tossing the rest in a ravine so we could haul Tom’s body out with us. At the end of it, we made out with around $5M, but we all agreed it should go to Tom’s family. I got back to find my fianceé had left. She couldn’t stand my leaving with Pope. Looking back, my addiction is probably what really did us in, but I was devastated to come home to an empty house after everything that had happened. Things got… dark after that. I fell back on old habits, fuck, I had barely been clean a few months when we went to Colombia. I didn’t want to think about what we’d done there, didn’t want to feel the emptiness, didn’t want to sleep and deal with the nightmares. I was a mess, and I… uh, I took too much one day. Pope found me unconscious, lying on the ground, and got me to the hospital. When I came to, I realized I didn’t want to end up dead in my shitty apartment, once they discharged me, I checked into rehab.”

Frankie took another drink. No one other than Pope knew that knocking on death’s door had been the turning point for him. Whiskey chewed on his lip, taking a drink and debating whether he should share his past as well.

“Drugs are… a terrible thing to get hooked on. My high school sweetheart, carrying my unborn son, was murdered by two meth head freaks robbing a fucking convenience store. I was on leave from the Air Force, waiting for them to come home when I got the call. I didn’t realize how much it festered in me until about a year back when we were taking down the Golden Circle.”

Frankie nodded. He remembered that he had been glad he was clean by then.

“I’m sorry, Whiskey… I didn’t know, I shouldn’t have-”

Jack’s hand moved from Frankie’s shoulder to rub his back reassuringly.

“Listen, the things you’ve done and seen for our country… and not, well, it’s a lot, and I know it’s not the same as the freaks who… it’s not the same. I almost sabotaged the mission. My hate-addled brain thought it would be justice… It was Bourbon who very literally knocked me on my ass and kept me from making a decision I’d regret. She encouraged me to see a Statesmen counselor, which has been a lot of work, but has been more helpful than I ever thought it would be. Have you thought about that?”

Frankie was distracted for a moment by Jack’s hand. It felt nice, reassuring, safe, things that had been sorely lacking for him today.

“I have and I did, well, I had to as part of the program, and I kept it up for a bit after. It helped, but… I couldn’t really talk about what happened with Tom. Sure there’s confidentiality and all that, but what we did is all kinds of illegal. I couldn’t exactly bring that to a session or group.”

Frankie snorted, a ghost of a smile tugged at a corner of his mouth.

“Really though, aside from the program I was in after rehab to get my license back, I’ve gotten some hobbies and some other out-outlets. This was just a lot. I needed to not be alone.”

Jack cocked his head at the way Frankie stuttered and subconsciously fidgeted with the bandage on his right wrist. He had picked up from the night prior that Frankie had a thing for pain, and Frankie’s reaction when he had bandaged him up was further proof of that. But using it as his sole outlet or method of working through his issues was something he wouldn’t enable. His eyes narrowed, and before Frankie could blink, Jack snatched his left hand, mindful of the tender marks as he held fast and fixed Frankie with a hard stare. Frankie flinched at the sudden movement then his eyes widened a little.

“You know this ain’t a solution, Flyboy.”

Jack’s voice had an edge to it bordering on a growl. Frankie shook his head quickly.

“Shit, no, Whiskey, the i-impact p-play stuff, i-it’s an outlet, and it’s not my only outlet. I met my old partners, Sam and then later on her husband, a year and a half or two years ago. I was a year clean before I even had my first session with either of them. I met Sam when she booked a flight tour, and one thing led to another… She’d come back into town and sometimes her husband would come with, but we all kept everything pretty quiet. They helped me relax, and they had their fun.”

Frankie was doing his best to be nonchalant, but he couldn’t help the slight bitterness creeping into his voice. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Jack’s tone had thrown him off guard, unexpectedly stirring something in him. Whiskey, of course noticed on both counts, having been trained to do so. He could see through Frankie a mile away. Frankie nervously took another sip from his glass, shuddering as Whiskey’s thumb gingerly rubbed circles over the marks, seemingly accepting his explanation.

“You know, had I known about your… interests, I would have done things a bit differently last night, Flyboy.” He winked at Frankie, then smirked as he examined Frankie’s wrist more thoughtfully. “How are they doing?”

“G-good, thanks. And uh, well, you’re one of 3 people who know.” Frankie murmured.

Whiskey’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise as he nodded and released Frankie’s hand.

“Really? Not Pope or Bourbon?”

“Are you kidding me? Pope would never let me hear the end of it. There are some things he doesn’t need to know.” Frankie chuckled and shook his head. “And Halcón? Well, there was never any reason for her to know. We never did anything together before last night.”

“How long has it been since you last saw Sam or her husband?”

Frankie downed the rest of his whiskey, eyes far away for a moment, remembering their last session, the sharp pain followed by a rush of endorphins and the occasional soothing praise. He shook his head gently, blinking himself out of his memories at the feeling of Jack’s warm hand on his knee.

“It’s been a while, six months? They moved overseas.”

There was a beat of silence, Whiskey could sense there was something up, it was a subtle shadow flitting across Frankie’s face. He decided to push a little more.

“Did you have feelings for them?”

“It was complicated.”

The edge in Frankie’s voice was tinged with pain, and he tried to cover it up with a laugh that came out humorless.

“I guess it isn’t that complicated. After six months, things shifted, and they made it clear I wasn’t part of their long term plan. It became very transactional, which was fine, but there was less and less... care after.”

“Oh.”

The response slipped from Jack’s lips, and he was momentarily stunned quiet before his temper began to flare. His index finger and thumb gently gripped Frankie’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Listen carefully, Flyboy. What I did last night was the bare minimum of what someone should do in that kind of situation. Anything less is negligent. Christ, how was this ever stress relief for you if you were left to free fall afterwards?”

Whiskey’s voice was calm and even, but Frankie could see the fury raging in his eyes. Sensing Whiskey’s desire for understanding, he nodded then shrugged.

“I guess I’d try to go on a hike with one of the guys or go train at the gym.”

Silence fell between them, a muscle in Whiskey’s jaw clenching before he glanced at the clock and let out a deep sigh, willing himself to calm down.

“It’s already just about midnight, Flyboy. Why don’t you go shower, and I’ll put on a clean bandage for you once you’re done. You can use my bathroom. There’s a clean towel hanging you can use. Don’t worry about clothes, I’ll leave something for you to sleep in on my bed so you can change while I set up the guest room for you.”

Frankie was about to protest, saying he could do his own bandages, but Whiskey fixed him with a stare and shook his head.

“Go on Flyboy, get yourself in the shower. Head down the hall, second door on the left. Your room is across the hall. I’ll be waiting there with the medkit when you’re done.”

Whiskey took Frankie’s empty glass and stood, taking their glasses to the sink while Frankie got up and made his way to the shower. A pensive frown tugged at Whiskey’s lips. Tonight certainly explained a lot of things. The sharp fury that permeated Whiskey’s chest when they were talking about Frankie’s previous partners returned. How could someone not be bothered with aftercare? It was also clear that Frankie felt abandoned by them. On some level, the poor man was probably terrified of that happening again, if he even entertained the thought of something between the three of you. Whiskey waited a few moments until he heard the water running before heading into his room. He let out a sigh as he grabbed a white t-shirt and a pair of linen shorts for Frankie to wear, leaving them on the bed before he left to make sure the guest room was all set.

Frankie undressed quickly, folding his clothes and setting them down on the vanity in a neat pile crowned with his hat. Next, he made quick work of unwrapping the bandage around his wrist and tossing the materials in the garbage. He let out a sigh of relief as he stepped into the shower and the hot water scoured the last two days from his skin. The relief was quickly replaced with a small whine of pain as the water hit his wrist. Closing his eyes and bracing himself against the wall with his forearm he breathed through the pain, acclimating to the sensation. Frankie took a minute to just exist, trying to enjoy the quiet that had slowly crept back into his mind. Taking a deep breath, he set to work getting himself clean. The steam made the air thick and heavy with the scent of Whiskey’s soap, something akin to leather and tobacco leaves. It clung to Frankie’s lungs, and he could have stayed there enjoying it for considerably longer. But, he didn’t want to keep Whiskey waiting, so he rinsed off and hopped out of the shower. He toweled off, smirking to himself when he saw it was monogrammed (because of course it was), then headed out and changed quickly into the shirt and shorts that had been left for him.

Whiskey looked up in time to see Frankie stride through the doorway wearing his shirt and shorts, smelling like him, his soap. He swallowed thickly and tried to recover with a smile.

“Feel better, Flyboy? C’mon, sit down. Let’s have a look.”

Frankie nodded, then took a seat next to Whiskey on the bed and gave him his right hand. Whiskey hummed his approval at the lack of resistance from Frankie, something the pilot felt tug at his chest.

“This is looking much better, Flyboy, should be completely healed in a few days.”

Whiskey smiled as he finished tending to and wrapping up Frankie’s wrist. Without prompting, Frankie offered his other wrist and Whiskey couldn’t bite back the smirk that followed. He was glad though, glad that Frankie was trusting him with this and was embracing these moments, even if it was for something small. Frankie’s left wrist was considerably better off, but even so, Whiskey was still gentle as he looked him over.

Frankie’s heart fluttered at the intimacy of what was happening. Here was Jack, a man he’d known for barely 48 hours, who was taking care of him, who had dropped everything to come get him, who had spent his evening letting Frankie talk. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had treated him this way.

There was an overwhelming urge building in his chest, and without thinking, he acted on it.

He gripped the collar of Whiskey’s t-shirt with one hand, tugging him closer as Frankie leaned in and kissed him. Whiskey was shocked for a moment, it had been the last thing he had been expecting, but he quickly recovered when he felt Frankie’s tongue swipe at his lip. His hand rested along the column of Frankie’s throat, thumb grazing over the scruff along his jaw as he deepened the kiss, leaning into Frankie and tasting him.

A small moan pulled Jack back to his senses, resting his forehead against Frankie’s and cupping his jaw with this other hand. They both panted, trying to catch their breath, and Whiskey smiled as he gave Frankie another quick kiss. For a moment, Frankie was worried he had overstepped when Whiskey cut off their kiss, but looking into the other man’s eyes, he knew that wasn’t the case.

“You’ve had a long day, Flyboy, we’re not gonna do anything tonight. Tomorrow though, if you want, I could help you get rid of some of that stress and help you come down the right way. No rush, no pressure, you can say no and nothing changes. I don’t want an answer right now either, sleep on it.”

Frankie’s breath quickened and his pupils dilated at the thought, but one thing nagged at him.

“What about Halcón?”

Whiskey chuckled and patted Frankie’s shoulder.

“Well it’s what we both want, in a manner of speaking. She’d be onboard, but she doesn’t have to know exactly what we do for now unless you’re comfortable with it. A lot of this is stuff I know she wants to go over on Friday, but for now, when it comes to me and Bourbon, keep an open mind and try not to overthink it, partner. If you want to do this tomorrow, then we can do it. If not, no harm, no foul, you’re still welcome to stay here and keep me company.”

Frankie nodded, still processing what Whiskey had said and more than a little surprised that Whiskey was inviting him back regardless of his decision. Whiskey stood up then, squeezing Frankie’s shoulder.

“G’night, Flyboy. Holler if you need anything.”

Frankie was back in Colombia. He felt sluggish, his feet refusing to respond the way he wanted them to. He saw the villager from the cocaine farm pop up from the rocky outcrop, but Frankie couldn’t move, couldn’t draw his gun to take him out. He cried out in anguish as the man fired.

“No! Tom!”

Then he was surrounded by Pope, Benny, Will, you, and Whiskey, statuesque as the man who killed Tom lined up and dropped Pope, moving his way down the line. Frankie was sobbing now, he was being swallowed up by the ground, sinking helplessly as the people he cared for were murdered.

Whiskey woke with a start to the sound of shouting.

Ripping the sheet and comforter off, Whiskey glanced at the clock. It read 01:30 and he sighed. Frankie just couldn’t catch a break.

“P-please, No! Po-Pope, God, n-no, Hal-Halcón! Whiskey!”

He really didn’t want to shake Frankie awake, worried as to how he might react waking up from that sort of dream, but Jack had to do something.

“Hey, Frankie, I’m right here, you gotta wake up. Wake up, Flyboy.”

Frankie shot up, feeling like ice water had been poured down his spine. He was wild-eyed and breathing heavily, but once again, Whiskey’s soothing words served to ground him, and he clung to them with all he had. He felt Whiskey pull him into a hug, and Frankie didn’t care about the awkward angle, he clung to the embrace as well.

Whiskey’s heart ached at the way Frankie clutched at him after hearing him call out Pope’s, his, and your names. He had a vague idea of what might have happened, he still had dreams where he couldn’t save his loved ones every now and then. Once Frankie’s breathing calmed a bit, Whiskey tugged him up out of bed.

“C’mon Flyboy, you’re coming with me.”

Frankie didn’t argue, he just followed, grateful that Whiskey was pulling him by his hand, needing that point of contact. Whiskey pulled back the covers on the side opposite of his and waited until Frankie crawled in before he pulled the covers over him, then slid in on his side of the bed. He scooted a bit closer, not wanting to crowd Frankie unless he wanted the contact, and was pleased when the other man scooted back until his back rested against Jack’s chest.

“Get some sleep, Flyboy. I’ve got you.”

Sooner than he expected, Whiskey heard soft snores coming from Frankie. He smiled then wrapped his arm around him and pulled him closer.

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[carminite-wyrm]

A Kingsglaive Time Loop AU, Part 1

Nyx Ulric wakes up, the memories of a burning city, of betrayal and loss, fresh in his mind. It is not the first time that he wakes this way, and it won't be the last.

Or: Nyx has a very, very bad time.

Now with a Part 2!

Nyx gasped awake, the scent of ash and burning flesh, and the sound of war and ruin still fresh in his mind, a burning ember of phantom pain deep in his chest. He lay there, eyes quickly taking stock of the room he was in, a room that was so familiar to his senses, a room that he could have sworn should have been reduced to so much broken rubble, like the rest of Insomnia. He could see the fading curtains, the walls that were slightly cracked, the photos of his family and friends. By all appearances, this was the same damn apartment he’d lived in for nearly the past decade, down to even that one corner where it would always leak when it rained. Off to the side, he could see his phone, the date and day clearly marked upon it. The day that the ceasefire, and the peace treaty, had been declared.

He slowly ran his fingers over the worn fabric beneath him, the soft texture slowly easing the rapid pace of his heartbeat. He finally managed to drag himself into a sitting position, and lifted his left arm into the thin strip of sunlight that managed to peek through the curtains. There was no sign of the magical scarring that had crawled up his arm like wildfire, when he had put on that damn ring. His arm moved freely, none of the pain he still remembered slowing him down.

With a groan, he stumbled to his feet, shaking his head as he tried to dispel the…dream, it had to have been a dream, one born from that crippling loss that had nearly seen him lose Libertus, alongside the other fellow brothers and sisters in the Kingsglaive. There was no way everything had been real, even if there were elements of reality to it, such as that damnable giant daemon that had nearly been the cause of Libertus’ death. Now that he thought about it, really thought about it, away from the panic and adrenaline of oh shit everything is going to hell and the King is dead and so was-

Yeah, there was no fucking way any of that was real. It had felt real, sure, but Nyx was pretty damn sure that rationally, there was no way the King would have deigned to give him of all people the all-powerful ancestral ring that held together the shield over the city, and much more to boot. After all, didn’t the King still have people like Marshal Leonis, who definitely had the proper skills and strengths to guard something as important as that? Not some random Glaive who was in the process of serving out yet another punishment for insubordination.

Feeling almost like he was a ghost in his own body, Nyx decided the logical thing to do was to find Libertus and Crowe, his two best friends. Not just because he wanted to make sure they were fine, of course, but also-

Oh, who was he kidding, the dream – and yes, it was absolutely a dream, Nyx affirmed to himself – had in fact rattled him enough that he wanted to hug those two for at least an hour.

As he stumbled out of his apartment, blinking at the sunlight above him, he tried to remember where he was meant to be going, where he would be able to find Libertus and Crowe at…around midday, now that he checked his phone. His phone buzzed then, from where he had haphazardly crammed it into his uniform pocket. Taking it out, he smiled slightly at the message, which turned out to be from Libertus, and handily reminded him that they were meeting up in one of the training grounds.

Nyx tucked the phone away, and decidedly pushed aside the little part of himself that quietly reminded him that this was exactly how things had played out, in the dream. He still had to hold himself back from desperately clinging to Crowe and Libertus like his life depended on it, when he finally met up with them, though he did still give them both a slightly calmer hug, to their surprise.

That dream was just a combination of recent trauma, his own over-active imagination, and also probably more trauma.

Right?

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

Thirty minutes later, he was watching the news report about the coming Peace Treaty with Niflheim, the other Kingsglaive around him murmuring in discontent. As Commander Drautos -and how could he be a traitor, how could any of them be traitors- debriefed them, Nyx found himself having to hide his hands in the pockets of his uniform, the phantom urge to reach out and just end the man keeping him on edge the whole time, to the point that he almost missed Crowe being called away for a separate assignment.

Two days after he had woken up from that terrible dream, he watched as Libertus stormed away, the death-glazed eyes of Crowe staring up at him from inside the bodybag.

And on the 16th of May, four days after that dream, everything fell apart.

Nyx screamed wordlessly as he watched King Regis die at Glauca’s hands, the scene identical to the one he had dreamt, as Lunafreya spoke words that almost fell on horror-deaf ears, that only registered because he could almost speak them word for word himself.

He stumbled as the King’s magic disappeared, only kept upright by the fact that he already knew, somehow, what it felt like to lose that connection, the steel-spark buzz of power fleeing from where it had lain within him.

He received Drautos’ call almost in a fugue, his words echoing those from his dream. And it was only the memory of that dream that meant that the bullet from that traitorous bastard Lazarus only went through his arm, instead of through his shoulder, though the shock of it still had him on the ground. He mouthed the words Lazarus spoke, as he gloated, as he was goaded by Lunafreya into putting on that ring.

Libertus ramming into Drautos- no, Glauca, with the car, nearly made Nyx laugh out loud, it was so ridiculously accurate it felt like it was scripted. And when he faced the old Kings of Lucis, in that otherworldly time, it was only the faintest sense that he needed to save Libertus and Lunafreya, no matter what, that stopped him from cackling hysterically in the face of those reticent ghosts.

Nyx died with burning scars tracing up his left arm, with the rising sun in his eyes and the ruins of a dead city behind him.

And then he gasped awake, the scent of ash and burning flesh, and the sound of war and ruin still fresh in his mind, a burning ember of phantom pain deep in his chest.

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

All in all, Nyx thought it was perfectly justified that he missed the treaty announcement, and the subsequent debriefing, curled up in bed for the past hour as he realised, truly, that this wasn’t all just a horrible dream. That he was indeed reliving the same five days, the five days that would culminate in the fall of Insomnia, the deaths of almost everyone he’d cared for, and his own death at the very end of it all.

The ringing of his phone had eventually stopped, if only because he’d thrown it haphazardly off to another end of the room, and probably broken it in the process. With that in mind, he absently gave himself another twenty or so minutes before Libertus or Crowe, or both of them, broke into his room demanding if he was alright.

Oh shit, Crowe.

He dragged himself off his bed, and stumbled over to his sink, as the image of Crowe’s corpse rose unbidden at the thought. He stood there, hunched over the sink, as he desperately tried to bring some semblance of rational thought back.

He just. Needed to make sure Crowe wouldn’t go on that damned set-up of a mission, the one that would have Luche -that fucking traitorous bastard- killing her for- For what, exactly? Luche had only talked about what Niflheim had promised him and the other traitors, after he had revealed what he had done.

Alright, then. Nyx nodded to himself, taking a moment to wash away the acrid taste of bile. Crowe first, everything else can wait.

He had four days, or three, if he discounted this one, before Niflheim would attack during that farce of a treaty ceremony. Four days to figure out how to avert disaster.

Nyx briefly entertained the thought of just, grabbing Crowe and Libertus, and heading for literally anywhere other than Insomnia, before roughly brushing it aside. No, he had a second, well, third chance, somehow. A chance to make things better, to make it so that no one (except those who really, really deserved it) had to die, so that the Empire wouldn’t be able to run rampant with their magitek armies and tamed daemons. And what sort of hero would he be, if he just ran away from that chance?

A sharp knock on his door, and the sound of it being flung open, had him spinning around in surprise, stumbling back into the counter in barely-concealed panic, before he registered that 1) it wasn’t a magitek trooper or some other sort of attacker 2) it was Libertus and 3) Crowe wasn’t with him.

Somehow, he had forgotten that Libertus had his apartment’s spare key.

“Oh shit, Nyx!” Libertus crossed the room with surprising speed for someone on crutches, eyeing how Nyx was practically trying to meld with the countertop. “When you didn’t pick up the phone-“

Libertus broke off with a yelp as Nyx grabbed him, half in a hug, half so that he could drag him in closer.

“Lib. Where is Crowe?”

“She’s off at some confidential briefing with the Commander, Nyx, are you alright?” Libertus managed to extract himself from Nyx’s grasp, giving him a once-over with a critical gaze. “You look- you look like shit, Nyx. And you weren’t at training. Do I need to get you to a doctor?”

“N-no. I’m…fine.” Nyx slowly inhaled, then exhaled, before trying to make himself look a little less like he’d just had a breakdown for the past hour and then some. “I am definitely fine. But I need to see Crowe.”

“Nyx, I’m sure it can wait.” Libertus sighed, filling a glass with water and passing it to Nyx, gesturing for him to drink it. “Me and Crowe covered for you during the briefing you missed saying you came down with something, though Commander does want a confirm on that. Though, man, you actually look terrible.”

“Just…had a bad dream, that’s all.” Nyx admitted.

Libertus raised an eyebrow, before shaking his head.

“You know that you can tell us anything, right? Anything that’s troubling you.”

“I…”

Nyx considered telling Libertus everything. Telling him about Crowe’s death, about the Glaives turning traitor, of Commander Drautos being that hated General Glauca, of the city burning under an Imperial onslaught, of the Old Wall and the old Kings. Of how Nyx had died.

But would Libertus even believe him? Nyx barely could believe it himself, and he’d lived it. Twice.

Libertus was one of his best friends, his brother in all but blood. But even so, he was fairly certain that Lib was probably going to check him into a hospital, at least initially, and he couldn’t afford to spend time trying to assure him of his sanity when he only had four and a half days.

“I’m fine, Lib. Really. Just had a bad dream, about Galahd.” Nyx paused, before he added. “And that giant daemon.”

“Oh.”

“Now, please, I need to meet up with Crowe.”

“She should be out of that meeting by now, I told her to meet up with us here, after I checked on you.”

Almost as if on cue, Crowe burst into the unlocked room.

“Oh good, you’re alive.” Crowe said, looking at Nyx and Libertus. “Wow, you really do look out of it.”

“Crowe!” Nyx swept her up in a hug, trying not to tear up.

“Hey, hey, Nyx. You good?” Crowe asked.

“You’re alive.” Nyx breathed, clutching her harder. “You’re alive.”

“I…am?” Crowe looked over at Libertus in confusion. Libertus shrugged, mouthing ‘Bad dream’ at her. Nyx instinctively lifted his middle finger at him, having caught the action even as he swallowed back his tears. “Look, Nyx, I’m fine, alright? Now, sit down, and let us catch you up to speed. Some shit’s gone down.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you are.” Nyx nodded, slowly moving to sit down. Libertus and Crowe both perched themselves nearby, Libertus taking the other seat, whilst Crowe leaned against the counter, wrinkling her nose at the mess in his sink.

“So…what’s happened?” Nyx asked, though he knew what it was they were going to tell him. But…well, he couldn’t just tell them how he knew that anyways, might as well give himself plausible deniability for some of his foreknowledge.

“Niflheim wants a peace treaty, at the cost of all other regions of Lucis besides Insomnia. And the King accepted it.” Libertus spat.

“There’s…not many in the Kingsglaive are happy about things at all. The general sentiment is that the King’s throwing away our homes.” Crowe continued. “On that note, the Commander’s given me a mission to recover the Princess Lunafreya from Tenebrae, I’m leaving first thing tomorrow.”

“No.”

Libertus and Crowe both turned to stare at Nyx, who was clutching the glass of water in his hands like a lifeline as he spoke.

“What-“

“You can’t. Crowe, please,” Nyx looked up at her, trying to convey the importance of his words, the desperation behind them. “Don’t go on that mission.”

“Nyx, I have to-“

“I don’t want to lose you, Crowe.” I don’t want to lose you again.

“Look, Nyx, you know I can handle myself.” Crowe patted his shoulder comfortingly. “Don’t let some bad dream get you all worked up, what did you dream of, me dying?”

Nyx dropped the glass, sending shards scattering across his floor. Distantly, he heard Libertus cursing, and Crowe…saying something, something that he probably imagined was supposed to be soothing, but couldn’t hear over the rising static as he remembered Crowe’s death, Libertus’ fury, Luche’s smug shitty face, Drautos half covered in that cursed armour-

Eventually, things slowly came back into focus, and he blinked as he looked up at Crowe and Libertus’ slightly relieved expressions. His neck ached, and it was only then that he realised that somehow, he’d gone from sitting in one of the terrible bargain chairs he had in his flat, to being on the floor, back pressed to one of the walls.

“You back with us, hero?” Libertus asked softly.

“Y-yeah.” Nyx croaked out, tilting his neck back and forth for a bit in an attempt to ease the soreness. “Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be. Guess I must’ve accidentally hit the nail right on its head, then.” Crowe said, crouching down and slowly extending her hand. “Now, let me help you up.”

Nyx nodded, getting his breathing under some semblance of control, and he briefly closed his eyes, waiting until he felt calm enough to actually move.

He let Crowe hoist him to his feet, and went in for another hug, this time getting both her and Libertus in it. They gradually relocated to sit on his bed, Nyx practically wrapped around his two siblings-in-all-but-blood.

“You died, Crowe. You died and there was nothing I could do to stop it.” Nyx sobbed; the words slightly garbled considering his face was mashed into Libertus’ shoulder. “A-and Libertus left, and then everything just, went to hell and then some, the city was attacked-“

He broke off, unable to put the rest of what he’d seen and lived into words.

“Look, hero, you know what I’m capable of, right?” Crowe said reassuringly, after a silent minute, slowly carding her fingers through his hair. “Whatever it was that your subconsciousness cooked up, it won’t happen, alright?”

“It-“ Nyx choked up, the words he desperately wanted to say lodged in his throat.

“I’ve called you in as sick, so the Commander won’t be all up our collective asses when you don’t show up for duty for the rest of the day.” Libertus said, patting Nyx on the shoulder. Nyx felt like he should be flinching from that, even though he knew that there wasn’t any kingly power burning its way through his body. Yet. “Come on, you should get some rest. Proper rest, after I get you something to eat. I’ll be here, though Crowe needs to go prepare for that mission of hers. We can see her off in the morning.”

The meal that Libertus cooked up an hour later tasted like ash in his mouth, and as Nyx was herded to bed, he couldn’t help but think that he had failed, once again. But he couldn’t go after Crowe, not now, not when Libertus was already keeping a cautious eye on him, not when all they knew was that he just had a panic attack, and a dream terrible enough to spark it.

And on top of all that, he had no idea what to do now, not when he knew that Libertus and Crowe probably wouldn’t believe him at this point, not when he’d made everything out to be just a bad dream. He’d had some sort of grand plan, to convince Crowe to not go on that mission, in the hope that it’d derail at least part of the Empire’s plan, derail it enough to give him time to figure out how the hell else he’d be putting a spanner into the rest of their planned invasion.

That plan, at least for now, was in utter shambles.

Now that he thought about it, actually thought about it, there were so many things that would eventually lead to the fall of Insomnia.

Crowe’s death, which would fracture the Kingsglaive even further than what the initial ceasefire announcement had done.

Lunafreya’s arrival, and subsequent kidnapping, which would be the bait that would draw the loyal Kingsglaive to their doom at the hands of the traitors, and signal the initial attack on Insomnia.

The theft of the Crystal and the fall of the Wall, which, he still didn’t know exactly how that had even happened.

The whole mess with the – rebels? Faction? – that Libertus had joined the other two times, the ones who had bombed the signing ceremony.

The death of King Regis, which would inevitably ruin much of their chances to stop the invasion, because it would mean that no one would have their borrowed magic anymore to help them against the forces of Niflheim.

How to deal with those giant daemon weapons withoutbringing forth the Old Wall, an act that would cause a decent amount of destruction in itself.

And General Glauca, that traitorous Commander of the Kingsglaive who was, Nyx admitted, quite possibly the greatest threat to everything he held dear at this point.

He could deal with rescuing the Princess, having done it twice already. Could probably even deal with the traitorous Glaives, hell, he knew at least Luche and Tredd were in on it, and if he took those two out then the others would lose a good part of their leadership.

But how in hell was he going deal with everything else? Nyx wondered, not a little desperate, as exhaustion finally set in, and he fell unwillingly into a fitful sleep.

He woke again, sometime in the evening, eyes tracing the cracks along his ceiling as he tried to parse his racing thoughts. There was just so much to do, so much he had to stop or fix before the Empire burned the city to the ground.

Well, he eventually thought, a little sardonically, I could always just knock Luche out now, and maybe he won’t kill Crowe tomorrow.

He sat bolt upright at that thought, and tried not to fall out of the damn bed in his haste. He fumbled blindly for his boots, and looked around for something heavy enough to give someone a bad concussion. The frying pan hanging on the rack above the shitty little stove, still a bit damp after Libertus had washed it, looked like it would do nicely.

He couldn’t kill Luche yet, even if every bit of him really wanted to do so. It’d probably de-rail things to the point that his foreknowledge would be rendered completely useless, and he hadn’t yet come up with ideas on how to deal with the next few days to make that murder as feasible as he wanted.

But he could just. Make sure that Luche wouldn’t be able to kill Crowe, or at least he’d be able to give Crowe a better chance at surviving the ambush, if he couldn’t convince her not to go in the morning.

Nodding to himself, he opened his door, preparing to march down the hallway and bait Luche into sticking his head out so he could bash it in with roughly three kilograms of steel. Fortunately, no one appeared to be outside of their own flats, though considering it was late in the evening by now, that was unsurprising.

He knew Luche had a habit of sleeping early if he had the opportunity to do so, so Nyx was fairly certain that if he knocked on the man’s door now, Luche shouldn’t be aware enough to register it was Nyx holding the frying pan before it hit him.

Sure enough, Luche opened his door with bleary eyes, and Nyx had a moment of vicious satisfaction watching the man crumple to the ground with a single hit of the pan. Now that Luche was unconscious, and not dead (there was a pulse, Nyx had checked), all that was left to do was shove him somewhere in his own apartment and hopefully have him out of commission for the next day at least.

“Uh, Nyx?”

Nyx looked up from where he was dragging the surprisingly heavy Luche the rest of the way into the apartment. Libertus was standing there, one crutch held limply in his hand.

“This…isn’t what it looks like, Lib.” Nyx winced, as Libertus looked incredulously at where Nyx was holding onto Luche’s limp arm.

“Is it?!” Libertus’ voice somehow reached another octave, as he cautiously approached Nyx.

“Look, this is going to sound incredibly crazy, but would you believe me if I told you that Luche is a traitor and he’s going to try to kill us all, except for the fact that I just knocked him unconscious.”

Libertus’ expression told him that no, Libertus didn’t believe him, and also that Nyx was…probably in some deep shit now.

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

Nyx awoke, for the fourth time, in his bed, in his flat, a burning ember of phantom pain deep in his chest, clutching at where the piece of the collapsing hospital ceiling had stabbed right through him.

Well, he thought, somewhat hysterically, that could’ve gone better. Much better.

[rose7420]

Things Get Better

When Y/n gets hurt her only hope is with the god of mischief... requested by @lokiismyhubby

(Y/S/C)- Your skin color

Warnings: Some description about a broken bone

Y/n cradled her arm closely to her chest. While sneaking around, she had lost her balance on the third shelf of Loki’s bookcase. The little literature fanatic had become too enamored by the dozens of books upon the shelves. Now, while the shelf may have been knee height for his imposing frame the drop certainly wasn’t a short one for a person of Y/n’s stature. Her foot slipped off the side as she backed up just a little too far attempting to read the spine of an eye-catching book and consequently she fell towards the hard ground holding her arms out to break her fall. Her outstretched limbs prevented her face from slamming hard into the wood but took a lot of damage. Her arm was at a very unnatural angle, tender and warm to the touch. There was no way she’d be able to fix this on her own.

She looked over to Loki’s desk where he was slouched over, staring intently at papers before him with a scowl. His head was propped up by his hand, arm resting on the table. She took a deep breath and tip-toed her way towards him. A part of her wanted him to notice her steps and the other part wanted to dash in the opposite direction.

It didn’t take a genius to guess which instinct was stronger at the time for the borrower.

She had watched Loki for a while now. The man was intelligent, cunning, and mischievous. But she still trusted him for some unknown reason. Perhaps because of the way his green eyes never missed anything, or how she felt he knew what people were thinking with a glance. No matter the fact that she was pretty sure this man was a literal wizard.

No literally, she’d watched him make books and animals appear out of thin air. Or how he’d glamour himself as a completely different person on some occasions.

Now that was creepy… but cool.

She approached his black boot that was anxiously tapping away, sending tremors through her body. Her eyes followed the extent of his form. Even sitting his frame was unfathomably large, towering over her without effort. A shiver ran through her body as she thought of all the ways he could effortlessly kill her.

Suddenly, his foot shifted and came close to knocking little Y/n off her own feet. She squeaked in alarm, drawing the attention of the giant above.

Loki’s attention was lost from the paperwork in front of him and drawn to the noise he heard below him.

How odd, he thought.

Peering down at his feet, his eyes widened at the sight of a minuscule figure standing beside his boot.

“Oh my.” He whispered.

He slowly stood up out of his chair, towering over the little being. He quickly knelt down to lessen the distance between them. He reached out a curious hand but stopped his movement when the person shouted something he couldn’t make out. As he looked closer he saw that the person was a female, and seemed to be holding their arm as if she was injured.

“Are you hurt?” He asked.

The girl nodded, “Yes sir...I-I was hoping you could help me.” She stated with hesitancy, heart pounding. Could hearts pound out of your chest?

Hopefully not.

Loki’s tough facade softened immediately, knowing that such a tiny soul would ask him for help out of all people.

“Of course dear, let’s move to a different spot.” He lowered his palm before her, flattening his fingers to offer an easier step up.

Oh hell no, she thought; scrambling away from the outstretched hand.

“Hey now… I’m not going to hurt you. You asked for help, right? I’m here to help. I promise no foul play.”

He watched as she approached his hand cautiously and experimentally sunk her own hand into his skin. He held back a smile from the ticklish sensation. He was awed by the fact that this girl was no taller than his thumb, standing at most of two inches tall. She paused for a moment looking back up at Loki as if asking for permission. He nodded trying to lessen the intimidating expression he usually wore into a softer, more trustable one. Her tiny weight upon his palm tickled even more as she scooted closer to the middle of his hand. Seeing that she was settled, he curled his fingers around her but left her a good amount of breathing room.

“What’s your name dear?” He questioned, holding her at chest level.

He watched her mouth move not being able to hear her clearly. Slowly he raised his hand bearing her closer to his face, able to hear and see her clearly.

“I was not able to hear you down there, could you repeat that?” He said, missing how tense his simple movement had made the small girl.

“M-my name’s Y/n.” She stuttered, her hand of her uninjured arm twiddling with her threadbare shirt.

“Well Y/n, let’s get you fixed up, shall we?” He lowered his palm to the desk he was sitting at previously, removing all the papers with one large sweep of his arm.

Y/n was curious as to what the papers were for. She remembered watching him earlier and how agitated he’d looked while staring down at them.

“What are those papers for?” She asked innocently.

Loki looked at her confused as to why she would want to know as he sat down.

“Just paperwork.” He said simply.

Paperwork? What did that mean? Her confusion must’ve shown on her face when Loki spoke again.

“You do know what that is now Little One?”, humor coating his voice.

Rather embarrassed, Y/n’s cheeks flushed but she shook her head.

“Let me see your arm dear,” Loki ordered kindly, changing the subject. Y/n held it out hesitantly, the pain was almost unbearable as she moved the unstable limb. She cried out in pain, prompting Loki to lean in closer and pinch her slight wrist in his large fingers.

He was once again awed by how he couldn't even see the small hand between his fingers. He did however feel the dainty tendons and bones moving under his tender, gentle touch.

“How did you even manage to hurt yourself?” He asked with curiosity and worry.

“I fell off your shelf,” Y/n said meekly, ducking her head. Loki didn’t overlook her shyness, in fact, he wished to comfort her but he had to take care of the primary problem as of right now. He closed his eyes, imagining the bones mending back together and the arm reverting back to its (Y/S/C) tint. He opened his eyes and her arms were back to the original.

Y/n looked down at her arms in amazement. She turned her forearms upright and down. Looking up at Loki, who was already staring down at her she felt a smile stretch across her lips. Without thinking much of it, she jumped up enthusiastically and ran to his nearby hand. She threw her arms around his thumb.

“Thank you, Loki!”

Loki smiled and chuckled at the girl’s heartfelt actions. He curled his fingers in and wrapped her in a hug; the best he could offer at their different sizes.

“So Little One… you like books and you know my name; without me informing you of it… I must say you interest me very much so.”

Y/n immediately let go of his finger, backing away with dread. Before she got too far away she bumped into a wall… of skin? Loki’s hand blocked her from going any further, the huge palm thrice her own height.

“Why are you leaving?” He asked quizzically.

“Well, I invaded your privacy. I didn’t think humans liked that.” Y/n stated as a matter-of-fact her voice shaky.

“First of all… I am not a mortal or human as you say and secondly, it doesn’t bother me if you looked at my things. I’m rather happy to know someone likes literature as much as myself. Why don’t we settle down and find a good book to read?”

Y/n nodded still processing that he wasn’t human. That explained all the magic stuff. She watched as Loki strutted to the bookshelf bending down to look for the perfect book. Once he’d made his selection, he walked back to the desk and scooped Y/n up, holding her in a protective cave of fingers against his chest. He sat down on the plush bed and reclined his back against the headboard letting his legs stretch out. Y/n was astounded by how tall he was. The simple length of his legs surpassed her own house! He let Y/n crawl onto his chest, who found the fabric of his cotton shirt soft and warm. She snuggled in the blanket of his shirt and listened to him read. His voice was soothing as the deepness of it reverberated through her entire being. He let the book rest upon his upper stomach where she could see the page clearly but the words were still printed too big for her to read properly.

A little way into the story, an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation started on her back. She looked over her shoulder to see the tip of a large finger making circles on the itty width of her back. The rumbling beneath her stopped as Loki paused his reading. She turned all the way around, to face Loki. He stopped rubbing her back momentarily.

“Is everything all right?” He asked.

Y/n thought about that simple question. This kind giant had helped her immensely. The kindness in Loki’s heart surpassing even his immense stature. She smiled shyly back at him.

“Everything is all right.” And it truly was.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed like and reblog!

[apocalypseornaw]

Walk Away-3

After so long apart you finally agree to see Sam and tell him the truth

You groaned as you sat back against the wall hoping this newest wave of nausea would pass.. It was normal according to the obgyn Tasha had helped you get into. You had just entered into your second trimester and found out the gender of the baby at your last appointment. She was growing perfectly and doing a number on your insides in the process. You heard someone clear their throat and looked up to see Max leaned against the doorway leading into the bathroom with a cup of tea in his hand. He held it out to you with a smile “Ginger tea with honey and lemon” You thanked him as you took the cup and allowed yourself a small sip of the warm liquid. 

He walked a little further into the room before sitting down next to you his long legs stretched out in front of him “Donna Hanscum called again” you nodded before saying “That doesn’t really surprise me..has Jody and the girls started their rounds again?” he let out a sharp laugh “Not yet, it holds them off when they can talk with you but I had to tell Donna you weren’t here considering you don’t want Sam to know you’re currently starting to move past smuggling a basketball into smuggling a beach ball” “He doesn’t need to know” you mumbled but Max shook his head “He loves you Y/N. I don’t know what happened but he wouldn’t be trying this hard to get you to talk to him if he didn’t”

You leaned your head back against the wall then rolled your head over to look at Max “If and it’s a big if but if I was to agree to see him and Dean could you put a glamour on me?” his eyes went to your ever growing stomach “Oh you mean to hide the bump?” you nodded and he scratched his chin in thought then nodded “I think I can manage that with Alicia’s help. I’ll call Erik too, he's better at stuff along those lines” “Thanks Max and thank Erik for me too” he stood to go call Erik who was his boyfriend of a little over three years. You’d known him for a while but had gotten to know him better over the last few weeks considering his mom was your doctor. “When are you going to call Sam?” he asked from the door so you shrugged “When Jody calls I’ll tell her it’s fine to give Dean my new number then go from there” he nodded then walked out the room.

------

Sam was sitting at the table in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee and trying to ignore just how much the bunker itself seemed to miss your presence. How had he messed everything up this bad? How had Dean been able to see just how much pain you were in but he couldn’t? Christ he was an idiot. If he could do it over he would have never gone on that very first hunt where all of you met Lila.

She didn’t hold a candle to you. You were...hell you were a force of nature. Everyone who knew you was drawn to you. You were caring but strong, courageous but smart. You would dive in feet first to help someone you cared about and even strangers. He’d seen you go toe to toe with more than one demon just to save a life. You were a soft touch when needed but also was the first to make someone shake off any self doubt and get their fire back.

When Alex had needed help paying for college you’d found grants seemingly out of thin air. When Patience would get upset about her broken relationship with her father she’d call you. You were one of the few people Claire would take advice from without rolling her eyes.

As for the way you’d changed not only his life but Dean and Cas’ as well he didn’t have the words for. Dean never got a chance to withdraw into himself with you around because you’d be at his door slipping new cds under it or bribing him out with food and western movie marathons. Cas always seemed to brighten up when you walked into a room because you never let a day pass without reminding him just how important he was to what you called your family group.

When you’d come into Sam’s life you’d knocked him flat on his ass metaphorically speaking and literally speaking. He’d ended up catching a punch from you on accident. Dean had teased him that your right hook was what made him fall in love with you. Looking up to see a woman as beautiful as you were apologizing but calling him an idiot for getting in your way at the same time did help matters. From that day forward you were all he could think about. The day you finally moved into the bunker was the happiest day of his life. 

The dreams of a so-called normal life was behind him but with you a new normal started to form in his mind. He never felt more whole than when you were in his arms. Waking up to you curled against his chest or with his arm around your waist was the most peace he’d ever felt. He loved you more than he ever dreamed possible to love someone after losing Jess. He felt like such a failure because he had apparently not shown you that. When you started to talk with Donna, Jody and the girls at least he knew you were alive,healthy and indeed staying with the Banes twins. 

He knew they lived near a small town on the upper west coast but that was all he did know. He wanted nothing more than to track them down and beg for the chance to see you but for now at least knowing you were ok was the best compromise he was going to get. He sighed and looked down at his laptop. He had a few news websites up but his heart wasn’t in trying to find a case, his heart was wherever you were. He could hear Dean talking to someone in the library and thought maybe he had a case until he heard Dean say your name. 

He quickly moved around the corner to see Dean pacing across the floor as he spoke on the phone. He caught a few words of what Dean was saying “Are you sure?...Yeah I promise...look you have my word...I will...ok...and sweetheart it’s good to hear from you” Was Dean talking to you? Why had you called Dean? Was something wrong? Were you hurt? He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts he hadn’t realized Dean had not only hung up but had called his name three times.

“SAM!” Dean spoke harshly and he blinked a few times glancing at the phone still in his brother’s hand “Was that Y/N?” Dean nodded “Yeah she told Jody it was ok to pass her new number on to me..She’s willing to see you but she has a few conditions” “Anything, I’ll agree to anything” Sam answered quickly his mind going into overdrive at the thought of seeing you. 

Dean nodded again then said “Grab your stuff. I’ll text her and let her know we’re hitting the road. I’ve got to call Max when we get close enough and he’ll come meet us to lead us up to their place”

------

“Are you sure you can’t tell?” you asked Erik for the sixth time since he’d finished the glamour. He sighed and shook his head “I’m sure. I’ve hid entire buildings, your little baby bump isn’t even a challenge” you smiled then smoothed the shirt you were wearing self consciously. 

“Alicia why did I agree to talk to Sam again?” She walked in behind you and held out a bottle of water “Because you’re still in love with him, it’s blaringly obvious no matter what happened he’s still in love with you because they’ve made the trip from Lebanon in record time. Even if today doesn’t go well at least you know you tried” you took a deep breath and nodded. She was right of course. When Erik’s phone went off you nearly jumped out of your skin but his hand on your arm kept you in place “Calm down Y/N, that was just Max. They’re coming up the driveway”

No sooner than the words came out of Erik’s mouth you heard the familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine. Any other time that was music to your ears but now it made you a little queasy. Erik shot you a smile before grabbing his jacket “Me and Max are headed into town but when you want to lower the glamour I showed Alicia how ok?” you nodded “Thanks again Erik” “Anytime”

------

You took a deep breath when you heard the boots on the porch so Alicia moved to answer the door. You weren’t in direct eyesight so you heard Dean first say “Alicia, good to see you” she greeted him then said “Hi Sam” you felt your heart flip when he said “Hey Alicia, I um thank you for being a place she could come to” “She’s always welcome wherever me and Max are and we make sure she knows it” that was one of the many things you loved about Alicia. Her words and tone of voice was friendly but the underlying venom of having comforted a hurt friend was still very much there.

“Y/N?” Alicia called out as she shut the door behind the boys as if she didn’t know for a fact you were hiding in the small hallway between the front door and kitchen. “Right here” you replied stepping around the corner. Dean smiled when he saw you “Well you’re a sight for sore eyes” you were glad when he just hugged you with one arm around your shoulders on the off chance of him brushing against your stomach.

“I see you’ve actually managed to stay alive without me which is a miracle in itself” you teased with a tense smile trying to calm your nerves before meeting Sam’s eyes. God those fucking eyes of his. You stood there for a second staring at each other before Dean turned to Alicia “You got something to drink? Alcoholic or otherwise. I’d settle for tea or coffee” she gave him a small smile before winking at you and herding him towards the kitchen.

Once the two of you were alone you both started to speak at the same time. You laughed nervously “You want to go first?” he nodded then let out a harsh breath “I’m sorry. I know that probably falls flat but I am. You are the most important person in my life. I love you with everything in me and I failed to show you that. I failed to realize how much my actions were hurting you. I made you think I wanted someone else and I pushed you away. I don’t expect you to forgive me and I don’t expect you to come back with me but I’m grateful you chose to let me come here and tell you that face to face”  You should’ve known with pregnancy hormones on top of everything else that you’d end up in tears. You wiped them away before they could fall before saying “Sam..god just tell me why? Why did you act like that towards her? Was the attachment to me the only thing stopping you? The fear of all our friends taking my side? Of your brother siding with me?” 

“Baby no” he breathed and took a step towards you but when you quickly crossed your arms over your chest and stepped back he froze in his tracks. “I guess it was the feeling of losing someone you love to a demon. I’ve been there before then with what happened to her husband. It got me thinking about what happened to Jess happening to you. That’s not an excuse because you told me that you wanted other hunters backing her and I didn’t listen but please baby please know I have never wanted anyone else since the day I met you” 

“But you didn’t listen to me Sam. That’s why I left! That’s why I came here and got them to ward me so you couldn’t find me. I couldn’t sit around waiting for you to break my heart and I’m not coming back with you no matter how much I want nothing more than to jump into your arms right now. If you want us...If you want a second chance before I tell you something I need a promise that you’ll be ok with it taking time, with me being here and you in Lebanon. I need you to actually think about it before you answer me Sam” you were trying so hard not to cry because you knew for a fact Dean and Alicia were standing just on the other side of that kitchen door waiting to intervene if you needed them to.

“I’d do anything for a second chance for us, to prove to you just how much you mean to me” you nodded slowly then called out “Alicia can you and Dean come here?” the door swung open quickly to both of them nearly stumbling over each other. “Yeah sweetie?” she asked so you braced yourself then said “They need to know” “And you’re sure?” she questioned so you nodded “Yeah I’m sure” 

“Need to know what?” Dean asked but Alicia was already repeating the words Erik had told her would drop the glamour. The moment it faded and your stomach was back visibly rounded Dean’s eyes widened and poor Sam looked like he may faint or puke. “Is that why you left?” Sam asked quietly and you shook your head “I didn’t find out until about a month after I left. That’s why I came here”

Dean recovered quicker and held a hand out “Can I?” you nodded “She is your niece after all” “Niece, so it’s a girl?” he asked with a grin. Your hand came to cover Dean’s so you could place it on the light movements but your eyes never left Sam’s as you said “Yeah I just found out last week” a light kick made Dean’s grin get bigger “Look at that. She’s strong already” “Just like her mom” Alicia replied then reached for Dean’s arm “Let’s give them another minute” Dean nodded and kissed your cheek before saying “I love you kid and I’m gonna love her too” then followed her back into the kitchen.

Sam had remained silent so you finally looked up at him “Are you going to say anything?” a slight smile slipped onto his face before he quietly said “Can I touch you now? Because I really want to hug you and feel our daughter move” you moved towards him and he pulled you against his chest without hesitation. One large hand held your back while the other rested on your stomach “I love you Y/N. I’ll prove to you that things will be different. Nothing means more to me than you and her” you smiled up at him through the tears in your eyes “I love you too Sam” 

Tags: @delightfullykrispypeach @fofisstilinski @chengukargbo @rosalynshields @hunting-the-grievers @spngirl05

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Test Run

Maru (Stardew) x They/Them Reader

A/N: Four down, two more bachelorettes to go! No warnings should be necessary but let me know if you think there is something I should mention. Hope y’all like this wild day! Word Count: 3,532

“Morning, (Y/n).” Robin greeted as soon as (Y/n) tromped through the door, wiping their feet off on the doormat before stepping fully inside.

“Morning, Robin!” (Y/n) waved. “Maru’s in, right?”

“She sure is. She’s tinkering in her room, head on back.”

“Thank you!” (Y/n) practically skipped as they made their way down the hall before quickly turning and detouring back at Robin’s desk, causing the woman to raise an inquisitive brow. “I almost forgot! I got you this,” (Y/n) ruffled around in their sack and produced a bag of peaches, handing the precious cargo to the eagerly awaiting carpenter.

“Thanks, kid! The fruits that come from your farm are to die for.” Robin praised, already digging into the bag for a fresh picked peach.

“Hey, I’m glad you like them!” (Y/n) beamed. “I’ve started growing strawberries in the greenhouse too as a surprise for Maru. Demetrius seems to be really looking forward to it too.”

“I’ll bet.” Robin laughed, “what else ya got there?”

“A carton of void eggs for Seb. Make sure he paces himself. I still don’t see the appeal of them beyond aesthetics.” (Y/n) said, placing the eggs on the desk.

“Don’t worry, I gotcha.” Robin promised. “Better get moving now. Don’t want to keep my little engineer waiting now, do you?”

“Right! Thanks Robin!” (Y/n) hummed as they made their way to the back of the house. They knocked on the door and called out in a singsong tone, “Maruuu, I’m here!”

“Just a minute!” Maru called.

After some clattering and clanging, Maru’s door opened, the highly intelligent girl wasted no time pulling (Y/n) in before closing the door once more.

“I’m glad you could make it.” Maru said as she gave (Y/n) a warm hug.

“I can always make time for you,” (Y/n) glowed, “so what did you want to show me?”

“First, did you bring the batteries I asked for?” Maru asked.

“Oh yeah! Just a second,” (Y/n) dug into their sack once more and produced a large handful of batteries, “I couldn’t remember how many you needed, so I just brought a bunch.”

“Aw, (Y/n), I only needed two. You can keep the rest.” Maru said.

“Oh don’t worry about it. You always have a use for these things. It’s been storming a lot lately anyway so I’ve got plenty. Take ‘em, I insist.” (Y/n) pressed the batteries into Maru’s hand.

“You are too sweet.” Maru said, kissing (Y/n) on the cheek, leaving them a giggly, lovestruck mess as Maru walked past them to put the extra batteries away for later. “Now for the main event,” Maru turned back to (Y/n), her eyes gleamed behind her glasses.

“Oh boy! What is it?” (Y/n) bounced on their toes, excitedly waiting for their partner to reveal her newest invention.

Maru walked past her vast array of scrap metal and tools to grab an old shoe box that was sitting on top of the schematics that littered her desk. She popped the lid off and showed (Y/n) what laid inside.

“You made shoes? Neat! You are so talented, I wouldn’t even know where to start on a project like that.” (Y/n) praised.

“These aren’t just any shoes,” Maru explained, motioning (Y/n) to sit with her on the bed as she popped the batteries in place, causing the shoes to faintly glow, “these babies are speed enhancers.”

“Woah, cool.” (Y/n) gasped.

“And I would be honored if you would test them out for me, my busy bee.” Maru smiled, tapping (Y/n) on the nose.

“It would be my honor.” (Y/n) laughed.

The couple exited the bedroom and made it to the front of the house just in time to see Sebastian shove a whole void egg into his mouth, shell and all.

“Dude, I didn’t even boil those!” (Y/n) exclaimed.

Seb took a long pause to chew and swallow the egg before answering with a shrug, “It’s the best way to eat them.”

“I’m so concerned about the decisions you choose to make.” (Y/n) grimaced.

“Come on, (Y/n). Let Sebbie enjoy his eggs. We’ve got a trial run to start,” Maru took (Y/n)’s hand in her free one, the other carried the shoe box.

“I have got to see this.” Seb said, cradling his carton of void eggs as he followed the couple out of the house.

Outside, Robin and Demetrius were staring out over the mountains, enjoying the fresh summer air.

“Hey (Y/n),” Demetrius called upon noticing the trio exiting the house, “how’s that erm, special specimen, coming along?”

“Just a few more days I think.” (Y/n) grinned, “I’ll be sure to give you a fair share of the first harvest.”

Demetrius did a little fist pump, “Yes!” he grinned, “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Dad, you can talk plants later,” Maru said, presenting (Y/n) the glowing shoes from the box, “(Y/n) and I are kind of in the middle of something.”

“What did you come up with this time?” Demetrius asked, already circling (Y/n) as they took off their boots.

“Shoes?” Robin cocked her head.

“Speed enhancing shoes, mom.” Maru added.

“Ah yes, should have guessed it wasn’t that simple.” Robin chuckled.

Once (Y/n) finished strapping up the shoes, they stood up, looking at Maru expectantly.

“So, what do I do?”

“Press those little buttons on the sides of the shoes and then start jogging.” Maru informed.

“You got it, boss.” (Y/n) bent at the waist and pressed the small buttons, causing a humming noise and a slight vibration to power through the shoes. Then they started a jogging pace, amazed at how light their feet felt.

“Wow, this is really neat Maru!” (Y/n) said, easily running to from the house, to the lake and back in under a minute.

“Nice work, honey.” Demetrius praised, squeezing his daughter’s shoulder affectionately as they watched (Y/n) make another lap.

“Thanks dad.” Maru smiled, after a few more laps Maru called out to (Y/n), “Okay (Y/n), you can stop now. This was a great run. And just to think, this is only the prototype!”

“Actually Maru, I can’t stop.” (Y/n) called out as they made another lap, sweat rolling down their face. “I’ve actually been trying to stop for a couple of laps now and I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“(Y/n)!” Maru slapped a hand against the side of her head. “You should have just told me, here let me help you.” Maru jogged after (Y/n), trying to catch up with them but failed miserably. “Sweetheart, if you could slow down just a tick, I’d really appreciate it.”

“I really can’t.” (Y/n) said. If anything, they only seemed to move faster. “Oh Yoba, Maru, I’m losing control of my coordination!” (Y/n) yelled as their clean, circular laps became squiggly and erratic bursts of speed.

“Hang on, (Y/n)!” Maru breathed heavily as she tried to catch her partner. She turned to her family watching in stunned silence and called out to them. “Can you guys help, please?”

“Oh, right. Of course!” Demetrius and Robin immediately began running after (Y/n) as well. Seb took his time carefully placing his void egg carton of the ground before joining in to try to cut (Y/n) off only for the shoes to juke him and send (Y/n) running the other way.

This went on for a few minutes, leaving the family short of breath, yet still they persisted. Things got more complicated however, when the glow of the shoes began to blink and (Y/n) began running even faster, sending them barreling down the mountain path into town. Maru made a last ditch effort to grab them but ended up falling into the dirt.

“Maru!” (Y/n) screamed, as their body disappeared down the trail.

“Oh damn.” Seb blew out a breath, helping his half sibling to her feet.

“Oh damn indeed.” Robin agreed as she caught her breath.

“Well, can’t just stand here. We got a farmer to catch.” Demetrius spoke up, wiping sweat from his brow.

“I knew I should have made a kill switch.” Maru groaned, dusting off her pants before jogging off after her partner. “Don’t worry (Y/n), I’m coming!”

“Oh Yoba, oh Yoba, oh Yoba!” (Y/n) chanted between breaths as they zoomed past the community center and into town.

“Ey (Y/n)! New training regiment?” Alex called from Dusty’s pen.

“Alex, I can’t stop! Help!”

“What, like you need a spotter or something? I’ve got your back.” Alex said as he began jogging behind (Y/n).

“No Alex, like I literally can’t stop!” (Y/n) called back before screaming. The shoes were sending them straight towards Evelyn, happily watering her plants and unaware of the danger behind her. “Oh my Yoba! Granny, look out!”

“Hm?” Evelyn turned and smiled, still unaware of the very real danger her brittle body was in. “Oh, hello dear. I made some cookies this morning, please help yourself.”

“Oh no!” (Y/n) squealed, covering their eyes with their hands, but luckily just before impact, the shoes took a hard left and spared granny from serious harm.

“Oh, goodbye then dear! Always so busy.” Evelyn shook her head and returned her attention to her plants.

(Y/n) kept running with Alex keeping pace a few yards behind them. They almost ran into Haley as she left her house.

“What the hell, farmer? Watch where you’re going maybe.” Haley grumbled, holding her precious camera close to her chest.

“Sorry Haley!” (Y/n) yelled back. “I have no control over my legs at the moment!”

“Come on, Haley. Help me catch them.” Alex called over his shoulder.

“I don’t run. You know that.” Haley stated plainly. “Good luck with... whatever’s going on there.” She watched the two run off towards the Cindersaps, hummed and shrugged. She positioned her camera and took a few photos before walking off to the beach only to be stopped moments later by the Mountain Road family huffing and puffing in front of her.

“Haley,” Maru wheezed, adjusting her glasses, “did (Y/n) run through here?”

“As a matter of fact, they did. Nearly ran me over too. They and Alex are sprinting to the Cindersap Forest as we speak.” Haley jabbed a thumb behind her shoulder, lazily pointing down the path (Y/n) had disappeared down. “Now I’ll be going. You might want to fix your hair by the way.” She added before continuing on her way to the beach.

“Damn (Y/n), you’re really booking it!” Alex yelled after (Y/n), the distance between them had started to grow.

“Less talking, more sprinting!... on your part, not mine!” (Y/n) yelled back. Their leg muscles were burning and tight as they continued to book it through the forest. As they steadily approached the pond in the distance, squinting, they could see Leah sitting on the dock with sketchbook in hand, enjoying her day.

“Leah!” (Y/n) yelled, startling the artist.

“(Y/n)?” Leah squinted back, using her sketchbook to shade her eyes from the sun.

“I can’t stop running! Do you think you could maybe catch me or push me into the pond when I get there?” (Y/n) asked between gasps of air. But between the distance and the heavy breathing, Leah had no idea what (Y/n) was saying.

“...What?” Leah called back after a moment.

“Push me into the pond!” (Y/n) yelled again, they were already passing Marnie’s farm and the time for Leah to get into position was slipping fast.

“What, why?” Leah was very confused but carefully, she set her art supplies down before hopping to her feet and jogging around the pond to meet (Y/n).

“Wait, no! Don’t stand in front of me, I’m coming in too hot! To the side! To the side!”

Leah was standing like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide and hands out in front of her as she fully took in just how fast (Y/n) was moving.

“Leah bro, move!” Alex shouted from behind (Y/n).

But it was too late, (Y/n) collided with Leah head on, sending the poor artist into the water, but somehow (Y/n) managed to stay on land, their shoes immediately began working backwards, taking them back a few feet before sending them in circles around the pond.

“Leah, I’m so sorry!” (Y/n) called hands over their mouth.

Leah coughed and pulled a stringy mass of algae out of her hair, looking down at her soaking wet outfit.

“Why did you do that?” Leah asked, not so much angry as just annoyed, confused and inconvenienced.

“It’s the shoes! Maru made them.” (Y/n) puffed, trying to rub their aching thighs as they kept running. “I can’t stop running!”

“Oh, I see what you’re going for now, you want to try to short-circuit the shoes with water, is that right?” Leah grunted, pulling herself out of the pond. She then futilely wrung water out of the bottom of her shirt.

“Yes!” (Y/n) nodded.

“Don’t worry, (Y/n). I’ll tackle ya if I have to!” Alex shouted, running to meet them head on.

They chased around the pond for several minutes. They had a bit of a strategy going that had Alex on one side of the pond and Leah at the other so they could conserve some energy, yet they still couldn’t catch the farmer.

“(Y/n)!” Maru cried out in relief as she and her family jogged tiredly towards the pond.

“Maru!” (Y/n) called in return, narrowly missing another attempted tackle by Alex. “Please for the love of Yoba, make it stop! My legs are burning so bad!”

“I’ll bet, sorry!” Maru huffed, coming to a stop at Leah’s side and looping arms with the drenched artist while motioning her family forward. “Come on, let’s make a wall!”

“This is kinda like an intense game of red rover, huh?” Leah commented wryly, shivering a bit as a gust of wind came through.

“Just hold on tight! Don’t let go for anything!” Maru said, digging her heels into the dirt.

“Incoming!” (Y/n) gasped, turning sharply around the bend of the pond with Alex tromping behind them.

“Oof!”

(Y/n) struck Maru and Demetrius’ interlocking arms and nearly got the wind knocked out of their lungs. Their legs were still moving, fighting against the obstruction.

“Wrap around!” Robin ordered, pulling Seb inward so they could wrap around (Y/n)’s back to prevent a backup escape. Leah met them on the other side, grabbing onto Robin to lock (Y/n) inside.

Even with this dogpile-esque formation, the group still struggled to rein the farmer in and keep their footing. Alex caught up, hands on knees, and let out a low whistle.

“Not even my gridball coach’s drills make me sweat this much.”

“So, where do we go from here?” Sebastian grunted. He’d have really like for (Y/n) to stop stepping on his feet.

“Yeah, we can’t exactly stay in this weird group hug forever.” Leah added.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Maru, wrapped her arms tightly around (Y/n)’s waist and Alex filled in behind her, between Leah and Demetrius, “Shuffle to the pond, then make an opening. Trip (Y/n) up, and I’ll rush us in.”

“Maru, you’ll get wet too!” (Y/n) exclaimed.

“Water’s fine. Trust me.” Leah said with a half smile and playfully rolled her eyes.

“It’s okay, we do this together,” Maru nodded and tightened her hold. “Start moving!”

“Alright sweetheart, let’s go!” Demetrius rallied, starting to shuffle in the direction of the lip of the pond.

Everyone joined in, making sure not to leave an opening for (Y/n) to unwillingly escape from. Being the closest to their watery destination, Seb and Robin loosened the death grip between them, ready to break apart completely on Maru’s command.

As soon as Maru felt a lull in (Y/n)’s movements, she pushed the farmer forward with a yell.

“Now!” She cried.

Robin and Seb managed to whip their arms away quickly, and watched with mouths slightly agape as Maru tackled (Y/n) into the shallow pond, almost as if they hadn’t expected her to actually go through with it.

The couple surfaced and sputtered, coughing and gasping from the intake of water as well as just plain exhaustion from running around all day.

“Ow, ow!” (Y/n) yelped, their hands moving beneath the water’s surface before reemerging with the pair of sparking shoes. Just as they threw them back on to the shore, a huge plume of smoke burst from them. The scene made those still standing on land back away considerably from the flashy footwear.

“Well,” Maru sighed, still hovering hands and knees above the farmer, beads of water clinging to her glasses, “safe to say that experiment was a bust.”

(Y/n) snorted and sat up to hug Maru, laughing earnestly and breathlessly. “Better luck next time. I suppose. I’m sure you can uh, work out the kinks.”

Maru smiled, hugging (Y/n) in return. Everyone else on the bank watched with little smiles of their own. Even Demetrius who had been wary of (Y/n)’s interest in his daughter initially, was warmed by the sight.

“Well, I think that was enough excitement for me.” Leah clapped, “I’m gonna just grab my stuff and get home to wash this algae smell off of me.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna head home too. Yoba, I’m gonna be feeling this tomorrow. Great workout, see ya around (Y/n).” Alex waved before heading off after Leah, splitting off in the direction of town.

“Are you two going to get out or...?” Sebastian let the words hang.

“I honestly don’t know if I can.” (Y/n) laughed despite themself, chuckling into Maru’s shoulder.

“I don’t know if I can either.” Maru joined her partner’s giggles, “Think we could get a little help?”

“You got it.” Robin said, already kicking off her boots n’ socks and rolling up her pant legs. The carpenter carefully waded into the pond and helped her daughter up first, passing the girl on wobbly legs over to Demetrius’ waiting arms. Next came (Y/n) who got to their feet with a painful moan. The farmer stumbled to shore and hung onto Maru for support.

“Thanks for the help guys.” (Y/n) grinned.

“You’re family,” Demetrius explained, “we weren’t gonna leave you like that.”

“Aw, Demetrius!” (Y/n) cooed, slightly embarrassing the scientist, “I love you guys. Y’all are the best!”

“Even after I made you test those shoes?” Maru asked.

“Yeah!” (Y/n) answered with no hesitation. “Even though I feel like every muscle in my legs have atrophied and turned to jello, I’d happily take on whatever else you need a test subject for. I just love spending time with you.”

“I think we’ll take a break from testing for awhile, though I’m both concerned and touched that you are still willing to be my test subject.” Maru said, picking a stray strand of algae off of (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Hey, for a pretty genius like you? I’ll be forever at your disposal.”

“(Y/n)!” Maru pushed at their shoulder with a laugh, heat crawling up her cheeks.

“Alright, enough with the love fest.” Robin turned to Demetrius and Seb, “lunch at the Stardrop sound good?”

“Sounds good, hun.” Demetrius nodded, “It’ll be nice to rest before having to trek back up the mountain.”

“Yeah, I was supposed to meet up with Sam and Abi there anyway.” Seb shrugged, though he wished he could at least bring his void eggs back inside the house before hanging out in town.

Robin turned back to Maru and (Y/n). “And you two? Think you can make it?”

“Is it alright if we meet you there? I can take Maru back to the farm to borrow some dry clothes first if that’s okay. And I’m not sure what Gus’ policy is on shoes.” (Y/n) said wiggling their wet, socked toes in the grass.

“So long as there isn’t any funny business.” Demetrius leveled a protective fatherly gaze at the couple. Old habits die hard apparently.

“Dad, don’t be weird!” Maru admonished, already pulling (Y/n) towards the farm, “We’ll, meet you there. An hour tops!”

“Sounds good!” Robin called back, drowning out whatever retort her husband was going to come up with.

Maru stopped for only a second, asking her mom to take the sprinting shoes with her to the pub before turning her attention back to (Y/n) as they babbled on about their pigs as if nothing more substantial happened to them today. Their hands swung loosely between them, fingers intertwined. Maru smiled softly, listening to (Y/n)’s every word about hay and truffle oil. A lull in (Y/n)’s flow provided Maru an opportunity to lean in and give the farmer a chaste kiss.

“Ooo!” (Y/n) beamed before eagerly returning the favor. “Where did that come from?” They asked after a few more kisses were shared.

“I just wanted to kiss my sweet farmer. Much like when you think it’s cute when I talk about my projects, I think it’s cute when you talk about the farm.”

(Y/n) covered their face with their free hand, “Stop, you’ll make me blush. I can feel the blood rushing to my head already.”

Maru grinned, pulling the hand away from (Y/n)’s face to catch their bashful expression. Another quick kiss to the farmer’s cheek and Maru pulled them down the worn path to the farm, careful to watch for anything on the ground that could harm (Y/n)’s stocking feet.

[babylooneytoonz]

A Gangster's Heart - Tommy Shelby x Reader

A/N : I just felt like writing this because I was feeling weirdly emotional when I woke up. Also, I didn't get a chance to proofread it so please pardon me if there are some grammatical shits. I was on a Peaky Blinders hiatus and I just hadn't written in so long, please forgive me if this is bad .

Warnings : Just Angst , Mentions of vulgarity

You glared at the man in the Blinder cap that was leaning against the doorframe of your quaint little shop in Small Heath, Birmingham City. You pulled out a small brown box from one of the drawers and slammed it rather loudly against your desk, sliding the keys in as you twisted it around and the box unlocked with an unceremonious click. You looked at the bills that were securely resting inside, and a hollow feeling filled you up when you realized that you had been saving this to buy your mother that dress at the seamstress shop.

"I always pay my bloody rent. This month the business 's tight. I even told Finn that this month I need a relaxation on the bloody rent and I will pay it all with the next month's rent. Why are you here again asking for the goddamn money?"

"Listen, Miss, we really are in no fucking position to not do what Tommy asks us to, so if Tommy –“ the man you knew as Curly shuffled the weight of his body from his left foot to right, and his palm slid into the pocket of his pants as he pulled out a box of cigarettes.

"So if Tommy asks you to jump off a fucking building, you are going to jump off the fucking building, yeah?' Exasperated, you slammed the box shut, and slid it back into the drawer again.

"I can come back tomorrow, Mr. Shelby won't ask me for the money until 9 in the morning. I can come collect it at 8."

You let out a loud groan of frustration, and involuntarily, your elbows came to rest on the desk as you buried your face into your palms. Finally taking a deep breath, you looked up, and your lips parted, your lower lip almost quivering, "Listen, I - I can't bloody pay Tommy the rent this month, the business is tight, and I barely made enough to pay my apartment rent."

Curly almost shook his head, scratching the side of his face as his hand mechanically flew up to his lips and he took a drag of his cigarette. Finally he nodded, and cleared his throat, "T's okay, Miss Y/L/N, I'll inform Tommy."

"You do that." You nodded and watched him leave. Almost instantly, you slammed your fist against your desk in frustration and let out an unceremonious groan, more so at the sudden onset of a headache at the side of your head. "Great, just fucking great."

An hour later, you grabbed your trenchcoat, throwing your arms through the sleeves in a hurried manner, and wrapped your scarf around your neck to keep yourself warm. These days, you were staying at your shop for longer hours, and this meant that you left from the shop at the odd night hours, mostly after 10. You grabbed your house keys, and walked out of the shop, your boots crushing the faint hue of ice that blanketed the streets of Small Heath, and you locked your shop.

Hugging the side of your arms, you started walking down the sidewalk, keeping your head to the ground, when you heard the sound of hushed whispers that made your head snap up in the direction of the voices. For the people of Small Heath, the men who belonged to the Peaky Blinders always stood out, perhaps it was because of how they dressed, and the unmistakable razorblade caps on top of their heads.

Of course, Tommy Fucking Shelby had sent them to probably collect the rent from you. You didn't know what came over you, but the nearest you could classify it as was a fit of rage, as you found yourself walking towards the men, your nostrils flared, and your fingers clenched together in a fist, balling the side of your coat.

"Listen here, I already told Curly that I'm in no fucking position to pay this month's bloody rent. You can all go and tell your boss that intimidating me by sending you lads is not going to fucking get me to pay the fucking rent."

One of the man took of his cap and stepped a bit closer, raising both his hands in the air, "but Miss Y/N, Mr. Shelby hasn't – "

"Oh, please lad. Don't justify the threatening acts of your boss, just because he runs your razorblade gang, it doesn't mean that I'm scared of him. Where the fuck is he anyway? I would rather settle this with him on his bloody face than stand around in the middle of the street at 10 at night and argue with you all." You huffed, as words shot out of your mouth like bullets raining down on them. The man who had began speaking stood there with his jaw slightly hanging, and no words came out of his lips.

"Well, I'm gonna go and settle this at the betting shop. Talk directly with Tommy." Before waiting for them to reply, you turned your tail, and started walking down the same street again, in the same direction from where you had come. But this time, your steps were confident, your head was raised as you found yourself walking towards the Shelby Betting shop.

•·················•·················•

"Miss, where do you think you are going?" Someone's voice called out as you barged through the front door, and pushed your way through a few men that were already on their way out, ignoring the voice of the man who had called out to you.

You walked up to the massive copper door that held a plate that read TS, and you abruptly knocked on the door. You waited a few seconds when you heard the muffled voices inside the room go off, and heavy footsteps began ascending towards the door on the other side.

You crossed your arms over your chest, and waited until the door finally opened, and you saw John leaning by the door.

"John."

Acknowledging him barely, you pushed past him and stepped inside, until you were striding towards Tommy who was standing by the telephone, speaking to someone. His icy blue eyes met yours and he slowly raised his palm towards you, asking you to hold on to whatever you had to say to him, while John just made his way to where you were and fixed himself by your side, giving you a confused look.

Finally, after about a minute, Tommy finally hung up and placed the receiver back, slowly turning to you.

"Is there anything –"

"Cut it, Tommy. If you think you can scare me off by sending your Blinders to do your dirty bidding for you, then you're wrong. Here– " Your fingers flew to your scarf, and Tommy just squinted his eyes, his confusion evident from his face as he turned to look at John and then back at you.

"What are you– "

You pulled off a gold chain that you remembered wearing almost all your life; ever since you were a little girl. It was that one piece of jewelry that you owned, and that you cherished, because it had been given to you by your father. You literally pulled at the chain, hissing slightly as it detached itself from your neck and you curled your fingers tightly around it, and finally slammed it on Tommy's desk.

"There. I hope this will be enough. I don't have anything else that I can give you. I hope to God that this settles it."

Turning around, not even waiting for Tommy to reply, and without sparing a look at his confused brother, you turned your tail and fuming, you walked out of Tommy's office, without giving him another look. Brittle tears stung in your eyes and your cheeks felt hot. You kept walking, ignoring the way your body was shaking, like an autumn tree shedding its leaves until you were outside and fixed to the wall, the back of your head resting against its surface. Finally, you broke down, your palm pressed to your trembling lips as you were taken over by uncontrollable sobs.

You didn't know how you calmed yourself; but somehow you did. You wiped your tear stained cheeks with your sleeve and looked up at the sky for a bit, staring at the moonless night, as you started walking back home, with your thoughts and your heavy heart. You were angry with Tommy Shelby, you were angry with yourself, and how you had to depend on the Peaky Blinders to run your little shop.

You kept walking, until the familiar silhouette of your tiny apartment was visible, it's dull grey white walls a striking contrast to the red brick buildings around it. A lonely flickering lightbulb illuminated the front door, and the windows of the building looked like they were about to fall off. It wasn't the best place to live, but it was home. You smiled to yourself when you saw your mother standing by the kitchen window, her frail little hands working on the dishes as she scrubbed them relentlessly. And just as quick the smile was, it vanished into thin air at the sight of her.

You lifted your foot, ready to walk towards her when a vulgar leer subjected to you made you freeze on spot, "Oi look what we've got here, eh lads, what a pretty little thing she is." You could only look at them, with bewilderment and fear in your eyes, as two men stepped out of nowhere, and fixed themselves on either side of you.

"Yeah, leave me the bloody hell alone," you mumbled as you tried to manoeuvre your way through the space between them, in an attempt to walk away, but one of them grabbed your arm, and pulled you back with a rough tug, "Now who the fuck asked you to leave eh? Fuckin' whore."

The man stank of booze and sweat, and it made you want to throw up. You threw him a look full of disgust, and anger as you placed your palm where the man was gripping your arm and tried to pry his hand off you, "Get your fucking hands off me. Don't you dare touch me."

"Maybe you didn't hear me, you whore. I didn't ask you to leave. Where's a pretty little thing like you headed when I can show you, yeah, a bloody good time?" He only laughed, while his hand suddenly shot out and grabbed the hem of your coat, his fingers now dragging it up so he could reach your skirt. You smacked at his hand, hard enough for the slap to echo back into your ears and tried to move away.

"Maybe you need to be taught a fucking lesson." The man spat at the ground beside you, and the other man grabbed your other arm, as they started dragging you towards the dumpster by the side of the street, on the sidewalk. You screamed, as loud as your throat could, thrashing your feet and trying to get away, but they were two, and you were a woman, nowhere as strong as their grips on you were.

The men somehow managed to drag your protesting form to the dumpster, and they pushed you over it, so you had your front pressed to it, your body bent over it at an awkward angle. You hissed, your eyes closing as reflex when you felt a slithering hand latch itself to your thighs, underneath your coat and the hand started moving upwards, forcing you to try to press your legs together to stop him from going any further, "Quit whining you bitch, and let me show you what a real lad takes a whore like. You must like it rough yeah? You must love to have our cocks smashin' into that tight little cunt of yours?"

You closed your eyes, your throat now parched from the screaming, but you knew, deep down that no one was coming. You were on your own.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" That voice enough was enough to tell you that the men had their death sentences already laid out. Maybe it was Tommy's voice, or maybe it was the realization who he was, the hands that were seconds back trying to grope you immediately pulled away.

"We were, uh, just having fun."

"Would you still have fun if I decide to fucking cut your throats and leave you to bleed to your deaths?" Finally, he stepped closer to you, and that's when the men saw who he was, and the realization finally sunk in, as the pale moonlight now illuminated his face, his emotionless eyes and the vein that popped over his eyebrow.

"Mr. Shelby, we .. we.. oi, get the fuck out of here, Jack.." He screamed at the man that was accompanying him, and the two of them turned around immediately, pulling you by your arm and thrusting you into Tommy's chest, to buy them time to escape. The minute your body collided with Tommy's, his arm immediately wrapped around your waist, his hand coming to hold you from the low of your back to steady to your feet. Once he was sure that you were okay, he roughly shoved you towards the wall, and his form stepped in front of you, shielding your vision from what he was going to do.

"Look away, Y/N," his voice commanded.

"Tommy, please get me out of –"

"What bloody part of look away do you not understand?" He practically snapped at you and the crudeness in his words made you almost whimper and press yourself against the wall, as you turned towards the wall and pressed your face to it.

Your body shuddered, even more so when you heard the two shots that were fired from a gun, and suddenly it went silent.

"Come on, love," you felt someone place his arms over either of your shoulders , almost pulling you towards him and slowly, numbly you turned around, tears freely spilling down your eyes, the shrill ringing sound buzzing through your ears. Tommy pulled you close, almost into his chest, as he protectively wrapped his arm around your shoulder and nudged you to walk with him.

"You killed them, you fucking ... killed them." Words began spilling from your mouth as tears began spilling again from your eyes, and you didn't stop mumbling, it was like your mind was blank, and your lips were moving on your own. It was only when Tommy's index finger pressed to your lips, that you stopped mumbling those barely incoherent words, and craned your neck to look at him as you mouthed, in a low voice, "you killed them, Tommy."

Tommy kept you pressed to himself, his arm holding you as he began walking down the street, and you moved along with him.

"This is who I am. Yeah, I fucking killed them, and I would do it again, and will not feel a bloody ounce of regret if they tried to do that again."

It was as though your mind had frozen out, you couldn't think straight. You were still shaking from the aftermath of what you had just witnessed. When you didn't reply, he slowly let go off your shoulder, and you stepped away, almost immediately. He didn't say anything though, as his hand slid into his pocket and he pulled out his box of cigarettes, "I'm going to walk you home."

"No, I need a fucking drink. Just walk me to a place where I could get a fucking drink."

•·················•·················•

Tommy Shelby brought you to the Garrison. And now you were seated on a couch, in the private room of the pub that Thomas Shelby owned. You had already drank two glasses of Irish Whiskey and Tommy was pouring your third glass for you, when you finally looked up at him and reached out, roughly grabbing his other free hand that was laying on the table. He immediately looked up, his eyes meeting yours halfway, as you tilted your head and questioned him silently with your eyes, "I appreciate what you did for me, Tommy, but you didn't have to shoot them."

Tommy leaned forward, sliding your glass towards you and he sat back again, his hand mechanically moving up to his lips as he inhaled the smoke from his lit cigarette.

"Listen, there are things that I do, I do them for a fucking reason, I didn't want you to see which is why I asked you to bloody look away." His voice was cold.

You curled your fingers around your glass and lifted it up, bringing it to your lips as you took a small sip of the drink, letting the burning liquid rush down the canal of your throat. When you didn't reply, Tommy leaned forward, his fists clenched and his lips pressed together.

"I can see that you want to say something, Tommy." You almost whispered.

"This is the fucking reason why, I don't like you working at the shop after the sun sets."

You almost snorted at his words, and instantly your glass flew to your lips, and this time you gulped down two mouthfuls of it and placed the glass back, giving Tommy a look that reflected the annoyance you felt at the situation, "Are you telling me it's my fucking fault, that I wanted this to fucking happen?"

"If I wasn't there on time," Tommy almost began, but his voice was incredibly low, and he immediately stopped his words from spilling out, thinking that you hadn't heard, but you had heard him nonetheless, "Where the hell were the boys when this happened?"

"What?" Your head snapped in his direction, as you gave him a look of confusion.

"Nothing. Come on. I'm gonna walk you home."

"Thomas –" You stood up almost immediately, your eyes burning a hole at the back of his head. "What did you mean about the boys?"

Tommy took a last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it into the ashtray as he stood up, and slid his hand into one of his pockets, before placing your gold chain on the table.

"Curly told me of the word he had with you today. And I told him that it was alright." He pressed his palm against the chain and slid it towards you, pulling his hand away. You kept glancing at the chain for a few seconds before you slowly lifted your gaze, fixing it on him.

"I don't understand. Then why were your Blinders following me?"

"They weren't. They were just doing what I had asked them to do."

You stood up, striding towards Tommy until you had placed your palm on his arm, and yanked his head towards you so you could stare into his eyes. "You asked them to follow me. So you could get the fucking money."

The man in front of you shook his head, and pulled his arm away, without uttering a word. You watched as he walked up to the door and fixed himself by the doorframe , his back turned towards you.

"Harry? Where the fuck's Curly? Send him in, yeah?"

He cleared his throat, and turned back towards you, not meeting your gaze.

"I won't accept that chain. You should keep it. And as for the rent, Curly can collect it next month."

You opened your mouth, but at that exact moment, a rather flustered looking Curly knocked on the door and Tommy's attention drifted away, "Curly, can you please make sure Miss Y/ L/N gets back home?" Without giving you a second glance, he walked off and you were left to look at Curly, wondering what you had said to him for him to react the way he did.

"Curly?"

"Yes? Miss Y/N?"

You walked up to the doorframe, and looked out, your eyes scanning for Tommy but you didn't see him anywhere. You craned your neck back so you were now looking at Curly, "If Tommy was okay with me not paying you today, then why were the Blinders following me?"

His hand flew to the back of his head and he gave you a sheepish smile, before flicking his glance away and then back at you.

"It's not really my place to say."

"Curly."

"Oh alright! Tommy sends the Blinders everyday. He just wants to make sure that you safely reach home from the shop and no one bothers you on your way."

•·················•·················•

"Harry! Have you seen Tommy anywhere?" You were literally out of breath as you slammed both your palms against the counter and the bartender looked at you.

"Mr. Shelby just left a few minutes ago."

You didn't even listen to anything else, you had already turned your tail and were practically running out of the Garrison, not bothering as your shoulders knocked into people on your way out.

Stepping into the cold, brittle street, your arms reflexively flew to the side of your arms as you ran down the street, ignoring the way the people were looking at you and murmuring whispers amongst each other. You weren't bothered what they were thinking about you, and your eyes were fixed on the man who was now inches away from you, smoke coiling around him and his back turned towards you as he walked down the street.

"For fucks sake, Thomas Shelby, are you really going to make me run after you like this in the dark?" You called out, watching him freeze as he turned towards you.

"Does that man never listen? I thought I asked Curly to take you home."

Immediately, your hand shot up, and you almost placed your palm up so you could let him know you were speaking. His cold, emotionless eyes moved from your hand to your face, his expressions unreadable.

"I was wrong. But you are worse than me. You send in your fucking Blinders to make sure that I get home safe but never once bother to tell me why. You secretly care about me, but never let me fucking find out. Thomas Shelby, I really don't understand why you do the things you do. You see, from the day I've known you Tommy, the only impression you've given me is that you probably hate me. Or, I don't exist. And then you secretly do this. I am tired of playing these games Thomas Shelby, and I am done begging you to answer. What is wrong with you?"

You watched as Tommy parted his lips in an attempt to reply, but all that shot out of those lips was the foggy winter air before he clamped his mouth shut again. He almost took a step closer and suddenly all you could feel was a weird tension lingering in the air.

"You know what your problem is? You think too much, you bloody assume too much. You're telling me you think I fucking hate you, when all I've ever done is to make sure you're okay."

"Why would you even fucking care about me?" Your voice sounded weak, but you didn't care. You hadn't realized when your lips had started trembling and hot tears had started skimming down your cheeks. Tommy let out a barely audible sigh as he brought his palms closer to your face, his reluctance to hold you pretty evident. Finally, after fighting with himself for so longer, he let his palms cup your cheeks as he pled your face to his, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Some things are best left unsaid, love. I will always care for you, whether you like it or not. Who knows where you'll be tomorrow, who you'll be with, but you will always mean something to me." You smiled when you felt Tommy's lips press against yours, and in those few seconds he kissed you, he gave you all the answers that you wanted, and he didn't even have to say a word.

Permanent Tommy Shelby Taglist ( Fill the form here if you want to be added ) :

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @really-dont-forget-it @thepeakygurl @baumarvel @nyotamalfoy @peakyfooky

[dcforts]

[day 2: childhood memories + day 3: motel rooms]

One minute Dean is soaping up in the shower - under what could be described more as a lukewarm leak than an actual shower spray - and the next the whole thing dies on him.

Dean sighs heavily, steps out on the cold bathroom tiles and towels off the soap as best as he can. He is sticky and uncomfortable when he gets into his clothes but it’s not worth bringing up the issue at the front because they are leaving the motel anyway.

Sam says, “Maybe they’ll let you take a shower in another room,” but Dean doesn’t want to. This is just the cherry on top of a godawful day and he wants to get out of there now and don’t ever come back. He is sick of those carpeted floors, those disgusting smells, the stained curtains, the dirty ashtrays.

He is well aware that if they didn’t find the bunker they would have spent the rest of their lives in dumps like this, so it’s not like he can look down on anything with a roof on. Still, Dean finds more and more intolerable the places he grew up in.

The ones his dad would leave them in when he was barely ten years old and he was too afraid to fall asleep because of the scary noises coming from the walls and the scary lights coming from behind the curtains. He would think that if he closed his eyes then someone could come in and take Sammy and he wouldn’t relax until he heard the rumble of the Impala in the parking lot. He would finally calm down and be lulled into sleep only by the creaking of the floorboards under his father’s boots, his heavy breathing, the tv turning on, the hiss of a beer being opened.

He is not complaining, but he knows now, that it was fucked up – how they lived. He’s got fond memories too, he is not complaining. He’s just tired. Maybe he’s getting older, that’s all.  Maybe he’s becoming one of those old grumpy dudes that can make a fuss about anything.

“I’ll take care of check out,” Sam says and hands him his bag. “See you outside.”

Generally, he is not bothered by any of those things. Too preoccupied with whatever they are dealing with, he moves on autopilot. But today he woke up with a sadness that he doesn’t know where it came from but it grew and it grew – during the long hours of a stake out, and each time he was thrown against a wall by the monster they were fighting, and finally, half an hour ago, when the shower head of his filthy motel room decided to die on him while he was still all soaped up.

So when Sam leaves the room Dean takes a moment for himself. He sits down on the nearest unmade bed and drops his head in his hands.

There are voices coming from the rooms nearby, not really muffled by the thin walls of the place. A kid crying, a man yelling at his phone, a television blaring commercials.

One time when he was nine, Dean had been having a hard time because little Sammy wouldn’t stop crying. It took him a long time to calm him down and even longer to make him fall asleep. Then from next door came the sounds of a couple fighting and Sam started to stir in his sleep. His father had told him to always be brave, so Dean had gone knocking on their door, his heart in his throat. “Could you keep it down? My little brother is sleeping,” he’d said to the man who’d opened the door. The man had spit on him and slammed the door.

He had washed the spit out of his face together with his tears, wishing for his father to come back and take them out of there.

He knows he is not that kid anymore. He went through so much worse; he went through literal Hell. He sighs and wipes a hand over his mouth, telling himself to get it together. He didn’t get enough sleep, that’s all.

Someone pushes open the door that Sam has left ajar. Cas takes in the view of Dean sitting on the bed with the bags at his feet, surveys the empty room and asks: “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

Dean looks up at Cas and unsurprisingly he is wearing a frown. Also unsurprisingly, he picks up Dean’s bad mood. He walks into the room and asks: “What is it?”

Dean looks down at his shoes and weights what chances he has to get away with a ‘Nothing’. He still doesn’t feel like moving though, so it would be a little weird to say that and then keep sitting there.

“Just a bad day,” he says in the end.

Cas is quiet for a moment, Dean can hear him shift his weight from one foot to the other, can hear the rustling of his trench coat as he moves his arms.

“Tell me about it,” he says and his shoes come into Dean’s view as he approches him and then crouches in front of him trying to catch his gaze. His eyes are soft and questioning. Dean doesn’t like making him worry.

“I’m just being a whiny baby,” he says, trying to playing it down, attempting a smile. “My back hurts, that vamp kicked my ass, I could not even take a freaking shower and now I gotta drive for hundreds of miles.”

“What else?” Cas says and he puts his hands on the mattress to keep his balance. His chest bumps against Dean’s knees.

He shakes his head: “Remembering some stuff from when I was a kid. I dunno, maybe I haven’t slept all that well. My pillow was bumpy.”

A corner of Cas’ mouths lifts.

“I told you, it’s nothing. I just needed a minute.”

“Can I do something to help?” he asks and a warm feeling expands in Dean’s chest. He shakes his head.

Cas studies his face for a moment longer, then Dean feels his hand on the back of his neck gently pulling his head forward until he ends up in a sort of a hug that works and doesn’t work, but still brings Dean’s face pressed against his shoulder and into the fabric of his trenchcoat, so that all he can smell now it’s the not rancid tobacco, not the cheap detergent used for the bedsheets, not the old mouldy wallpaper.

Just Cas, the soap Sam packed for the trip, the Impala.

He smells like home. And that anchors him to the present. A present made of eggs and bacon every morning, of record players blasting his favourite songs, of soft clean clothes and the feeling of safety; a present made of people that call him just to know he’s alright, that would drive from another state just to see him, that will hold him for as long as he needs it.

People that love him and that he loves.

So Dean lets Cas hold him and not hold him for a little while longer - or for a long time, Dean is not sure anymore - before he feels ready to slap his back and say: “Alright, let’s get out of here.”

He stands up and takes one bag, Cas takes the other.

He still looks at him like he’s not convinced that Dean is fine, so he says, “I’m fine,” but then feels embarrassed and stammers a bit when he adds, “T-thanks, Cas.”

Cas nods briefly. “Anytime.”

joining @bend-me-shape-me  in doing this!

[the--blackdahlia]

Bitter Sweet Victory

Title: Bitter Sweet Victory

Summary: An underground fighting ring is someplace they never thought they’d end up, but now they’re in the fight of their lives.

Warnings: Hurt no comfort, major character death, violence, some undertaker x kane. Don’t like, please don’t read.

Undertaker’s hands were wrapped tight as he balled them into fists. How did he get himself into these situations? He was a wrestler, not a boxer, but thank god he had prior martial arts training. But obviously, the training wasn’t good enough, or he wouldn’t be here.

Actually, he wouldn’t be here if not for Hunter running his mouth to a bunch of guys looking for a challenge. Him and Shawn bragged all about the members of the league, of course promoting themselves. Taker had been hoping for a quiet night, just him and Kane. Maybe pizza and a movie, maybe working on his bike while Kane worked out. But instead, he was in a makeshift Hell in a Cell, fighting a guy who made BRock look like a wimp, while his friends were forced to sit ringside. Some of them, like Shawn and Scott Hall, were nursing their own injuries from their own fights.

Fucking hell.

****

“If you all win, you all walk out of here alive,” Their captor had told them from their “green room”, which honestly was more like a jail cell. “Anyone that loses, well, will not be leaving with their friends.”

“You can keep us here.” Hunter had smarted off before being slapped, making him stumble into Kevin Nash.

“You really need to keep yourself in line Mr. Helmsley.” The man had told them. “The sixth one is finishing up his match now. You missed a lot.”

“Who else could you possibly have?” Scott asked. They had gotten the jump on pretty much the whole Kliq; Scott, Kevin, Hunter, and Shawn, with just X-Pac making it away, and hopefully going to get help. Taker had just so happened to be with them, and had cut out of the bar about the same time to catch up with Kane at home. Damn, why didn’t he listen to Stone Cold, who had been trying to get him to stay. “Oh, here he comes now.” The man laughed and suddenly, Taker’s blood ran cold. Especially when he saw the mask that the man produced. “Here you go. You can have this back.”

“No!” Taker jumped up. “What did you do to him?!” Shawn gasped as Kane walked in, his face battered and his knuckles bloody. He shakily took the mask and placed it back on his face, though it hurt like hell.

“Oh my god.” Kevin watched as Undertaker grabbed ahold of Kane and pulled him away from the man who was holding them captive. They were all big guys, but yet they were at the mercy of someone that Hunter had mouthed off to. And it looked like Kane had already paid a price.

“H-hey.” Kane greeted Undertaker when the man left. They were off in the corner, by themselves. Mark was checking his injuries the best he could, finding a couple cracked ribs and other cosmetic damage.

“Shit, this is why you didn’t call to see where I was,” Undertaker grumbled. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault. Got jumped leaving the arena.” Kane explained, leaning into each touch. “I think they’ve been watching us for awhile.”

“How did they get the jump on all of us?” Scott asked. “I mean, we’re all six foot at least, we weight like a fucking brick house.”

“The taller you are, the easier you are to tip,” Shawn pointed out. “That’s why I do so good in the rumbles compared to you guys.”

“Jokes aside, I think they’ve been watching us because we’re some of the best brawlers Vince has,” Kane explained. “When they brought me in, they were watching Raw and taking bets. They watched us all beat the shit out of each other on Raw and Nitro and thought “hey, let’s bring them to our shady dungeon, take bets on them, and watch them beat up other guys.” He held his head, having taken one too many headshots.

“We gotta get out of here.” Hunter told them.

“Brilliant idea. How do you plan on getting us out of here?” Kevin crossed his arms over his chest.

“I don’t know, but we have to get out of here.” Hunter glanced at Kane. “Kane is built, and they destroyed him. What do you think they’re going to do to the rest of us? Like Shawn!”

But any chance of planning went out the door when they were literally dragged out the the fighting area Kane had just left.

And they entered hell.

****

“Taker, watch out!” Kane called out as Undertaker’s opponent swung at him. Their captor was watching over them, much like Commodus watching over his gladiators. But he was not happy as Undertaker missed punch after punch, all while checking to make sure that Kane was still okay.

But then he missed one move and suddenly had a full force punch to the face. It knocked him off his feet, and he landed hard on the dirty floor. He groaned as he tried to push himself up, only to be on the receiving end of a steel toed boot.

“Come on Taker, get up!” Hunter called to him. And boy, did Undertaker want to. He wasn’t going to be the reason one of them didn’t get to leave. And he wasn’t staying here any longer than he had to. He only had to hope that X-Pac or Stone Cold or someone had gotten help.

That’s when he heard a commotion. Just like a flashback, Undertaker saw Kane break down the door to this cell, but this time, had a chair in hand. He swung it at Undertaker’s opponent, hitting him in the back with a sickening crack. He hit him again, knocking him down to the ground, giving Undertaker the perfect opportunity to repeatedly hit the asshole until he was out. “Thank you.” Undertaker smiled as Kane tossed the chair aside. Taker had him wrapped him in a hug quickly, cradling the back of his neck as the others cheered. They had won. They were all getting out of there.

“Well done.” The man walked to them. Kane and Undertaker broke apart. “But, you see, there was a clause about cheating.” Before anyone could react, he pointed a join at Kane’s chest and shot him point blank.

“Oh my god!” Shawn gasped, Hunter quickly squeezing his hand. They all stood, ready to attack, but the gun was pointed their way. Undertaker went to make a move to Kane. He was gasping for air, but he was fading face. Undertaker could tell, even behind the mask.

“You bastard!” Mark hissed, launching himself at the captor. The other four took the opportunity to help out. Punches, kicks, weapons. As they attacked the man who had made their lives hell for the past 48 hours, a noise could be heard. Before they knew it, police were raiding the makeshift ring area. PEople held their hands in the area, with Hunter, Shawn, Scott, Kevin, and Undertaker unsure of whose side they were on.

“Tell Mr. McMahon we found them,” they heard someone say into a radio, and they all relaxed. Until Undertaker remembered Kane, and he quickly ran to him.

“Kane, they found us, we’re going home.” Undertaker told him as he knelt by him, but he didn’t get an answer. “Kane?” He shook him, but his head just rolled. Ripping off the mask, he saw closed eyes surrounded by bruised skin. “Kane!”

“Jesus.” Scott mumbled. EMT’s were soon in to exam the wrestlers, to get them to a hospital for proper care. They were slowly led out, but Undertaker stayed rooted in spot, scooping Kane into his arms and rocking. By the time the EMT’s got to him, to help him to an ambulance, they knew.

As Undertaker held Kane’s body, they knew there was no hope for one of them.

[scribblingfangirl]

GLOWING IN THE DARK #2 | The Punisher - Billy Russo

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Author’s Note: First of all: I am so sorry this part took so long (and it is very underwhelming as it’s just a few scenes of Y/N’s life on the base (all involving Billy - and I’m not sure if I got his character right in this one)). I tried to make it one longer coherent chapter, but I needed these scenes to be able to proceed to the more important parts of the story. Hope you guys don’t mind. I hope the next few installments will appear faster and will get better again. But for now, thank you for reading and enjoy!

word count:  ~ 2.7k

summary: Becoming Billy’s friend is weird - if whatever relationship you have is even considered a friendship.

warnings: //

| PREVIOUS PART | - | next part | - | SERIES MASTERLIST |

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You felt it – whatever or whoever it was – before you even heard or saw anything. 

As a Marine, you had undergone different kinds of training modules and boot camps and this wasn’t your first tour either. Your job before getting promoted to helicopter gunner had been to try and get in and out of places without raising any suspicion or getting in the way of the others that were fighting while you got the intel. Inevitably, however, sooner or later you had to fight your way out of wherever the hell you were as well.

It had heightened your senses, which made it almost impossible for you to have a good night's rest. The smallest change in the atmosphere or the slightest sound sent you straight to overdrive. No heavy eyelids, no blurry mind - just wide-awake and alert.

Of course, this wasn't the case with everyone though. After missions with the Blackbird crew, you’d seen Garth and Dane fall asleep as soon as their heads hit their pillows and nothing could wake them up after that. You even had some conversations with Frank about it whenever you stayed over at the Castles during your military leave. 

You’d call the day you were able to fall asleep within the first ten minutes of getting into bed and stay asleep for the whole night a miracle. That is why your eyes opened wide and your body went rigid as you blinked desperately and tried to adapt your vision to the darkness. Or at least find the smallest shimmer of light. Obviously, you had no such luck. After all, it was somewhere around the early hours of the morning and it was pitch-black in the tent. 

Your hand automatically went for the gun under your pillow, only to end up empty, and it took you a millisecond to realize that you weren’t in your cot in the tent you shared with Garth and Dane, but rather in the infirmary where weapons weren’t allowed. 

You decided to do the next best thing. You used your body.

In a swift movement and without much hesitation you grabbed the thing - a person as you came to realize in that very moment - in front of you and used the momentum to turn both of you around, pinning him (as you still were the only woman on the base) down on the bed, straddling his waist and pressing your upper arm on what you expected to be his throat.

A soft chuckle resounded through the tent. In the next second, you were blinking against the white lights that illuminated the infirmary, realising that you were holding Billy in a tight grip. And worse, straddling him. 

As your senses were still on a high (heart beating fast and body frozen) you were unable to do anything else other than stare shocked at Billy.

“Gotta admit Frankie boy, you trained her well,” Billy smirked up at you, his hands going to your waist to support you a little bit and take the weight of your injured foot.

“Na,” Frank shook his head, “All that was already there. I just showed her how to properly use and manage her strengths. Reminded her of who she once was.” Frank approached you both from his place beside the entrance and gently pulled you away from Billy, who started to massage his neck as he slowly stood up.

Billy chuckled at that. “A clumsy girl?”

“Hey! Watch it or I beat your ass-”

“Again… was that what you wanted to say? Do I have to remind you that you didn't beat my ass last time? That's why I told you that there are less violent ways for you to see my backside.”

You had soon realized that flirting truly was Billy’s defence mechanism, just as Frank had said. And humour. Whenever something turned uncomfortable for him he either turned on his charms or tried to alleviate the situation by making some stupid remark.

You had also realized that Billy had been right. You were terribly out of shape. Everything had hurt the day after the game, but you had guessed it might also have had something to do with the fact that two grown-up men literally tackled you to the ground the day before.

So you had gone to Frank, because, obviously, you couldn’t give Billy the satisfaction (or more time with you) and had asked him to give you some training lessons. A little refresher of your earlier days. 

“Okay… What would you do if I did this to you?” Frank asked while cornering you against a wall and trapping you between it and his body, putting his hands on either side of your head.

“Really Frank. Are we really going to look at Self-Defense 101? I’m weak right now, not stupid. I remember the training.”

“Well, show me then.”

Sighing you looked him straight in the eyes as you punched your straight fingers into his ribcage under his left armpit, causing him to withdraw his left arm entirely. Then you punched your fist into his left rib cage that was now open to you, pushing him slightly away from you before punching his chin and knocking your head against his.

Tumbling a few steps back Frank caught himself quickly and grabbed you, hugging you from behind as you had already turned around to move away. “Not so quickly.”

“Do you really want me to give you a concussion?” you groaned, leaning closer into him and knocked your head back into his.

With a grunt, and while trying to regain his footing after stabilizing you due to the additional weight you put into his arms, Frank loosened his arms around you and you went for his right knee. 

Ducking down fast and sliding your hands down his leg to his foot you pulled it up before Frank could regain his balance, throwing him to the ground behind you. You quickly turned around and sat triumphantly on his stomach. 

“Satisfied?”

“It’s a beginning.”

“That’s enough Bill.” Frank's deep voice brought you back to the present. “She might be a little clumsy sometimes, but it’s clear that you can’t say anything against her senses.”

“Hey! Whose side are you on?”

“Kid, let’s be honest. I saw you tripping over nothing but thin air yesterday, somehow managing to injure your foot while doing that. And then you proceeded to fall face-first to the ground.” Frank said as he moved you to another unoccupied bed. Thank god you were the only one in the infirmary right now. Scoffing you rolled your eyes. 

“The ground wanted a hug! Not my problem you’re a heartless guy. Ever thought about the fact that it might not want to just be trampled on? And anyway,” you added after a short pause, “you heard them yesterday after you insisted on bringing me here. I’m fine! Just a misstep, nothing a good night's rest with limited movement wouldn’t fix… which well, is kind of the opposite of what you two just did.”

“Ah well, sorry ‘bout that. Colonel Schoonover wants to go over some strategic movements first thing in the morning. Thought you might want to get caught up with the most important details first.”

“Oh. I see. And both of you were needed to bring me a, and I quote, ‘clumsy girl’ up to date?”

“Oh no. I’m sure Billy, who very enthusiastically volunteered, will do that just fine. I just followed to make sure you don't kill each other. You are welcome by the way.” 

-

After that, you weren’t sure if you were actually becoming friends with Billy (because you didn’t actually need to ‘up your friend game’) or just accustomed to him because he was always there whenever you were doing something with Frank.

Granted, there were times when it was just you and Billy (and multiple other Marines). Like that one time when you were waiting for the showers to turn purple (a term the base had coined to show that it was your time to use the facilities without having to check your surroundings for possible men to appear and take a shower with you.... they had realized how bad it had sounded the moment they had said it to you.)

You had been waiting in front of the facility as there was still around 10 minutes before they would turn purple and Billy had decided to keep you company by starting to annoy you (you couldn't believe how incredibly childish he could be - he gave you wet willies!)

Nevertheless, you had grown close enough to him to tell him about your time as a foot soldier and how you had a knack for repairing stuff, especially cars and aeroplanes thanks to your father. That he had been a military mechanic and that, after your mother had died when you were a baby, he had taken you with him whenever he had to move or do something for the military. That you had practically grown up on military bases and that joining wasn’t even a question, it was the only valid option in your life. And that one day the Marines had asked you to join their new helicopter crew and you couldn't say no, as you had wanted to feel closer to your father who had died a few years prior.

You had also talked about how you never met in New York (or about how Frank skillfully managed to keep you both apart) and about the fact that you guys have the same call sign (well, he and your helicopter). 

That was apparently enough for Frank to give you the “I know I said, I know Maria said, but do not fall in love with him”-speech one night while you were sitting on Billy’s bed, enjoying some alone time with Frank after some hectic weeks of training and strategy meetings.

“Don’t worry,” you had said and patted his back, “you know that my heart belongs to the sky. And, well, to Pete.”

Little did you know that Billy had just entered the tent when you said that.

-

"- hell Y/L/N!”

“It was my pleasure. But you know, maybe next time you could just thank me, one might think you don’t have any manners.”

“You could have died out there!"

"It was a test run Garth. If anything, we would have died together. Also, here I was thinking taking risks is your life motto. I mean, isn’t your name practically Gar-'With some good food I can conquer everything?'-field?"

"With good food, you can conquer everything… and everyone," he winked at you, “because even though the saying goes 'The way to a man's heart goes through his stomach' this applies to women and everybody else as well!"

You laughed and clapped his back as you pushed aside the plastic tarpaulin and let him pass you before leaving the tent as well. 

"Sounds like you gotta invite me for dinner sometime, as soon as we're stateside again!"

"Sounds like it!"

Remembering that you had to get something from your cot you turned around to get it, but stopped in your movement when you caught a glimpse of Billy, his fist tightly shut and his eyes glaring after Garth. Realizing that you were watching him, he turned around and stomped over to his own tent.

-

This repeated itself on multiple occasions. You talking to a fellow Marine or crew member and Billy seeing it and getting angry. Sometimes you realized it, sometimes you didn’t. Like the time in front of the dining tent. 

One of the Marines, you didn’t even know his name, had waved you over to give you a piece of mail that had found its way to him instead of you (apparently your names were similar enough to confuse the guy who had distributed them), apologizing for opening it already. 

You had just shaken your head, saying it wasn’t his fault and had turned the envelope around, causing a beautiful ring hanging on a thin necklace to fall into your hands. Smiling at it while suppressing some tears that were threatening to leave your eyes you had looked up at him. “I doubt you would be caught wearing this anyway.”

Of course, your luck had it for Billy to see him giving you the envelope and the necklace and to disappear through another entrance into the mess hall before he was able to hear you thank the guy for bringing you the envelope.

-

And then there was that time when you were pretty sure that Billy had become more to you. You weren’t sure what exactly, but more.

A Skype call for you had come through during the day, which Billy who had just passed by, accepted and told the man on the other side of the screen to wait while he got you. Sticking around he had to admit that he felt a little green now that he knew that not only Frank but even you had someone waiting for them when they came back. He wasn’t near enough to hear what was being said, but near enough to see you touch the computer before the connection ended and see you starting to cry terribly after that and rushing away, making Billy think the guy just broke up with you.

Frank had found you shortly afterwards (after Billy had gone to him to tell him what had happened, not being a very touchy-feely guy but thinking you might want someone around). He had talked to you, asked what had happened and you had repeated yourself, telling him that “my heart belongs to the sky now. Everybody I ever loved has left me, even though I am the one risking my life every day.”

Frank had just hugged you closer telling you that wasn't true. That he, Maria and the kids would always be there for you, that you wouldn’t be able to get rid of them now, no matter how hard you tried.

You didn’t know how long you had been sitting there, but then Billy had entered the tent, telling Frank that Maria was asking for a Skype call and Frank requested for Billy to stay with you. 

You both had stayed quiet for some time except for your sniffles and hiccups that came from you crying earlier.

“You shouldn’t be crying. You have more than enough men falling on their knees for you.”

Confused you had lifted your head to look at him through teary eyes. “What?” “You shouldn’t be crying because of Pete. I heard Garth inviting you on a dinner date as soon as you’re both on leave again and saw the Marine in Frank’s squad giving you the neck-”

You had started to laugh at that. “Wait what? Please don’t tell me that you’re jealous!” 

“No! Just… just annoyed I guess. I get called ‘Billy the Beaut’ and get called out on my shit and… and then you come along and you’re allowed to dance on all of our noses?” 

You had snorted, wiping your nose on your T-Shirt sleeve. “Welcome to the world of a woman. As normally it's the other way around. Doesn't feel nice, right?” You had chuckled sarcastically. “Anyway, who’s Pete?” 

“Who’s… Who’s Pete? Your boy-, well, your now ex-boyfriend? The guy who just broke up with you over Skype?” 

Being reminded of that Skype call had hurt you, but you had laughed anyway. His stupid conclusions and obvious obliviousness had helped you think of other things. “I might have kissed a Pete once, but I might have lost the memo that he was my boyfriend because as far as I know, I never had one.” 

“But the man-” 

“Was my cousin's doctor and now close friend due to the time we had to spend together.” 

“But you told Frank something about your heart and Pete. Wait, was?”

Of course, he had heard that. “Pete's another name for our bird. Yes, our callsign is Blackbird, but the guys call him Pete and I guess it stuck. And yes, was. He just called me to tell me that my cousin died of cancer. No… please. I don’t need your condolences. I’ve been around death for quite a while. It feels almost normal already.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“I know… but what can I do? I cried and now I have to stand up and make sure that we don’t meet too quickly again, that's what she would want.” 

After that you both had sat there, quiet again, shoulder against shoulder, staring at the green plastic of the tent. Never realising that Billy, however unpleasant that situation might've been for him, never searched for a way out of it.

•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•.

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[infinitebells]

It's time to make Sherlock Holmes shine don't you think ? Hehe ! Okay so what about Sherlock meeting a childhood friend (S/O) during a case (totally random) and he learnt that S/O is about to get married but like, they spend some times together and day after day, they literally fall in love ! The wedding day, Sherlock comes and be like "I refuse" and escape with S/O thanks to William's help (since they're kinda friends yk) ! I hope you'll have a great day <3 thanks for your hard work !

this brought a giddy smile to my face i was JUST thinking about sherlock.

TW: mentions of abuse

✧ when you guys were younger, god you were the best of friends

✧ you were the type of friends where your parents joked that you two would get married someday as childhood sweethearts (was that a thing in the 19th century? idk we’re rolling with it)

✧ but you moved away just before your teenage years, so the next time you see him is like 15 years after that

✧ sherlock had been investigating a group of nobles who had all caught the same illness, and a lot of them happened to frequent the flower shop you worked in so he obviously had to go investigate

✧ this man recognizes you instantly, from the moment he walks through the door, and you’ve only gotten more beautiful since the last time he saw you

✧ you were busy with another customer, so he waits until the store is empty to approach you

✧ as soon as your eyes land on him, you break out in a large smile, because who could forget that dark, unruly hair of his

✧ you run around the counter and envelop him in the biggest head, and he holds you close to him with both arms wrapped around your waist

✧ he’s definitely grown up since you’ve last seen him, and you can’t deny how attractive he is now

✧ he asks how you’ve been and whatnot, before noticing the engagement ring that rests on your left ring finger

✧ you blush lightly (which he notices) and explain that you’re supposed to get married in two months time, and he can’t help the small drop of his heart upon hearing your words

✧ he congratulates you before explaining his case and asking if you’ve noticed anything strange

✧ when he realizes your flower shop is merely a coincidence and not evidence, he asks if he can take you out for lunch to catch up

✧ he tries to convince himself it’s not because you’ve grown so beautiful and still so ethereal, but because he wants to catch up with an old “friend”

✧ from that day forward, you spend almost every day with sherlock

✧ sometimes you’ll help him with easier details of his cases in his home, fussing over the state of his health with watson while sherlock rolls his eyes with a smile

✧ other days he’ll bring you lunch at your work and sit in the back and eat with you so you’re not lonely

✧ at one point your fiancé came one day, staring down sherlock as he watched another man bring her lunch and make her smile

✧ that day, you see how she flinches from his touch, shying away from his touch, her smile seemingly more forced than the days where it’s just you and him

✧ he waits until your fiancé leaves before immediately questioning you about it, already forming the answer in his own head

✧ your voice is shaky when you explain that the marriage was somewhat arranged because he was of a higher status than yourself and he only really treated her nice in public, but was awful alone

✧ it’s at that moment sherlock realizes how madly in love he is with you, grasping your trembling hands as he pulls you to him and asks if he can give you a hug (because this man can see you’re uncomfortable with certain touches and is considerate of that)

✧ you’ll nod your head shyly and the hug he gives you feels like he’s breathing life back into you, like you’ve been drowning for months and months and his hand is pulling you out of the water into fresh air again

✧ you know you’re in love with him, you’ve known but have refused to admit it due to your engagement, but the way he asks for permission to give you a “friendly” hug and is soft and gentle with you makes your heart melt

✧ he leaves rather quickly after that, explaining he has work to catch up on, when in reality he’s going to william’s house and asking for his help

✧ william’s no fool, he can see it in sherlock’s eyes how desperate the situation is, so he puts his noble plan aside to help sherlock

✧ louis is wary of the situation, but he trusts his brother’s judgement and goes along with the plan

✧ by the day of the wedding, you haven’t seen sherlock since the week before, when your fiancé had come in

✧ you’re sitting in a waiting room off the church, hands trembling in your lap, praying to somewhere you’ll get to see sherlock at least once

✧ a knock on your window scares you so bad that you jump out of your chair, whipping around to see sherlock’s grinning face, and two other men with him

✧ you open the window, asking him what the hell he’s doing outside your window, and why he hasn’t been to see you

✧ “well excuse me for wanting to surprise you beautiful, but i couldn’t help myself”

✧ you blush profusely at his words, and he finally explains the plan, which you happily accept

✧ you learn that the two men are friends of his, one with a large build, a mess of black hair, military coat, and a pistol you see hidden on his hip (you decide he scares you)

✧ the other one is shorter, his face softer and more concentrated on you

✧ sherlock lets you change out of your dress and into the pants, button up shirt, and boots that the young boy (who you’ve learned is fred) hands you, wrapping your chest in bandages to hide your breasts before you button the shirt up

✧ when you’re done, sherlock helps you tie your hair back while fred hands you a long cloak with a hood, and brushes some makeup onto your face to make you seem more manly

✧ when you’re ready, sherlock informs you that the larger man (he’s slyly introduced himself as colonel moran, with a wink and smirk) will walk you to the moriarty mansion, where you’ll stay for a few days while the mess of your disappearance at your own wedding blows over

✧ those few days feel like hell. you can’t stop worrying about sherlock, and the many books you fly through at the mansion do nothing to appease your anxiety

✧ on the fifth day, fred helps you back into your disguise before having moran walk you through the town

✧ “colonel where are we going?”

✧ “woman would you be patient and just wait?”

✧ “funny coming from you”

✧ your head is bent down to avoid peoples eyes, with morans subtle tugs and pulls leading you to your mystery destination

✧ by the time you stop walking, you look up to see 221B, and warmth spreads through your chest at the sight

✧ moran bids you goodbye, not without a solid handshake (which he compliments you on), then watches you ascend the stairs and knock on the door

✧ ms. hudson is the one who answers the door to get rid of any suspicion of sherlock or watson eagerly embracing you

✧ she leads you inside, helping you change into a simple blue dress before leading you up to sherlock’s room

✧ you can’t help but run at the sight of him, jumping into his arms and pulling his face to yours in a long, loving kiss

✧ he sets you down and holds you so close to him he can feel your heartbeat through your clothes, and god he’s never felt more at home with you in his arms

✧ “sherlock i’m in love with you,”

✧ “well thank god i love you too, otherwise this would be awkward.”

[itsthestutterforme]

Quick Learner (Supernatural)

Summary: Y/N is a Donna's that Dean couldn't take his eyes off her since she showed up at the Sheriff's station. Donna, Y/N, Sam and Dean went out for drinks where Y/N and competed with each other on the bull ride at the bar. They all parted ways when they were kidnapped and taken to a vamp nest.

Pairings: Dean x reader (platonic), Sam x reader (platonic), Donna x reader (platonic)

__

Dean and Sam rolled into Stillwater, Minnesota after Donna called them to help for a huge vamp nest of 1,000 vamps. They are wearing their suits and walking into the Stillwater's Sheriff stations. "Hiya boys," Donna greets.

"Hey," they greet as each of them give her a hug. "Alright, catch us up. What have you found out so far?" Dean asks. "Yeah, how did you find out there were 1,000 vamps in the nest?" Sam asked in a low voice.

"I was going hiking with some colleagues and we were ambused. I was the only one that survived." Donna says, making both Winchesters look at her softly. "I'm fine boys. It's just more motivation to find and kill those sons of bitches." "We'll help you out every step of the way, you just let us know if you want us to take over." Sam states.

"Donna!" Y/N calls as she walks in and everyone in the station looked at her. Y/N wears black, leather pants and white racer back crop top that is topped with combat boots and white and black plaid long sleeve coat. She was the literal definition of bougie and she looks goregous. She's been getting head turns and stares all day

She walks towards them and in Dean's mind, she was walking in slow motion. He drinks her in with his eyes and Sam notices. He hits Dean's chest and Dean clears his throat before sending Sam a glare. "Dude, stop devouring her with your eyes," Sam scolds. "What? She's gorgeous," Dean states. "Behave," Donna warns.

"Y/N," Donna greets with a smile as Y/N approaches them. Y/N's perfume puts Dean in a haze. "Hi," Y/N says with a wide smile and Dean's heart flutters.

He feels like a scared little boy that didn't know shit about woman, and he hates it. "Hey," Dean says. "Y/N, these are Agents Walker and Patton. Boys, this is Y/N Y/L/N." Donna introduces. "Pleasure to meet you guys,"

"The pleasure is ours," Dean says, clearly flirting with Y/N. "We still on for drinks, Donna?" Y/N asks. "Of course! You mind if these boys tag along?" "I don't see why not. The more the merrier." Y/N states, glancing over at Dean and Sam. "Well I'll let you lot get back to work. Just wanted to swing by," she adds.

"See ya!" Donna says and Y/N waves with a smile before leaving the station. Wolf whistles and men talking over one another. "Hey! If any of you try anything, your little ones will suffer." Donna snarks and the station went quiet before the deputies went back to their duties. "You two, Winchester." Donna says to Dean and he slowly covers his little ones with his hands.

--

Y/N, Donna, Sam and Dean walked into the bar and the first thing Dean and Y/N sees is the bulls ride in the far left corner. Y/N and Dean look at one another and Dean says, "Bet you ten dollars that you won't last thirty seconds on that bad boy,"

"Honey, I ride bad boys for sport. I'll be back to collect my ten dollars," Y/N states, swaying her hips as she walked over to the machine. The air left Dean's lungs as Y/N pulled her hair into a ponytail and slowly peels her long jacket off.

She truly was beautiful. She deserved something more than a one night stand. She's so genuine and happy with herself, it kind of inspired him to love himself like that.

Y/N's grip tightened on the belt on the neck of the machine bull and her other hand is free. The bull whips and pulls her all over the place and she is still hanging on.

A minute past and she still holding on, even with the frequent jerks. The bull came to a halt and Y/N broke the record of 7 minutes. Dean slaps a ten dollar bill into Y/N's hand and she sits down next to them with a victorious smile.

"Don't get too cocky. I can stay on there for 14 minutes if I wanted to." Dean taunts. "Oh really? Then be my guest," Y/N says, motioning to the bull. "Oh, this is going to be good." Sam says.

--

Dean winces as firmly holds an icepack to his temple. "I shouldn't have told the guy to speed up the machine." Dean groans. "You really shouldn't have," Y/N says.

She pulls the icepack away from the temple and hisses when she sees a purple welt. She caresses the surrounding skin and Dean's heart jumps.

"We shouldn't have started competing with one another. I'm sorry," "Don't be sorry, I had a fun time. Minus the landing on my face part," Dean says, making them both chuckle.

They were all walking to their cars intoxicated and didn't fully notice the black van that was slowly trailing them. The doors of the van flew open and the vamps knocked them over the head before carrying their limp bodies into the van and drove off.

Y/N and Sam were the first to come to because they were the less drunk out of group. "What the hell is happening?" Y/N asks, trying not to freak out and lure the attackers back into the room.

"Listen to me, you're going to see and hear things that you've never seen or heard. But I need you to keep a cool head for just a little while." Sam says and Y/N nods.

"Ah look, the hot one is awake." a man with auburn hair says as he walks in and lays eyes on Y/N. "Hey, don't you touch her." Sam snaps, which wakes Dean. "Guess we found out who the boyfriend is," the other man with blonde hair says.

Dean groans and the blondie says, "Rise and shine sleepy head." The guy with auburn hair squats down next to Y/N and brushes a hair away from her face.

"As hungry as I am, I would rather turn this one and make her my girlfriend. She is curvy in all the right place," he says, ghosting his hand over her breasts.

"I will kill you, you blood sucker." "Wrong, this one is the boyfriend." The blonde said before punching Dean in his face.

Y/N was frozen in both fear and anger and her gaze drops to the floor. "You want to live, don't you princess?" The man says, lifting her chin up and she pulls away from him. "Don't do that again," he warns.

Hours passed and the vamps didn't do anything to them besides rough them up when they talked too much. It was like they were waiting for someone. Donna was the last one to wake up and she was bleeding from her head. After brushing up her restraints against a free nail, Y/N breaks through them.

She quietly stands up and Sam and Dean shook their heads. "They can smell and hear everything you do." Sam mouths. But Y/N's fight or flight response got the best of her and she ran. Oddly enough, there was no one else on the floor they were at. This situation was getting weirder and weirder.

She ran to find a weapon to use and when she was sneaking around in search for an exit, she stumbled across a duffel bag with machetes, shot guns and vials of blood it looks like.

Y/N took the machete into her hand and she heard someone speak behind her. Without thinking, she swung the machete around until she heard a faint thunk. Her eyes widen when she sees the blade going straight through the blonde's face.

She winces and pulls the blade out of his face before grabbing the duffel and tip toeing back to the room. "Where did the hottie go?" you heard the auburn haired man say.

She gently set down the duffel bag and waits until the voice grew closer to her before cutting his head off. Her breathing sounds were getting faster and faster as her eyes widen with shock. She releases a loud exhale before using the machete to break their restraints.

"I thought you left us," Donna says. "Hell no, you're stuck with me, Donna Hanscum." They exchange a smile before Y/N says, "I found a bag full of machetes. I'm assuming that it belonged to one of their victims." She picks the bag up and sets it at their feet.

Sam and Dean looks at Y/N with surprise and she notices. "What?" "You just killed two vamps without any hunting experience." Sam explains. "It was out of instinct. I wanted to live and not many things can survive their head being chopped off so I took a chance."

"Yeah, but you could have left us. Any one else would have ran without looking back. It takes courage to fight back." Dean says. "If I did that then who else will kick your ass at bull riding." Y/N jokes, but she's clearly still freaked out by everything.

"We should move out. More of them are bound to come when they notice they're missing," Y/N adds before cleaning off her machete and leaving the room. "She'll make a damn good hunter," Sam says to Donna. "Damn right," Dean states.

[alovesthis]

All Things Must Pass - Dean Winchester CHAPTER THREE

Dean Winchester x Female!Reader Fic

Fic Summary: Reader, her sister Stevie and the Winchesters reunite after not seeing each other in a few years. Ever since Dean told her to leave him and his issues behind, reuniting wasn’t what you expected it would be like. Hunting, past feelings, memories and a life threatening situation that was placed upon Dean Winchester creates tension between you two and everything else.

Warnings: None? Angst. Minor violence?

Word Count: 2.3k

CHAPTER THREE

It’s nearing midnight and the four of you were splitting up. Sam and Stevie are walk around one corner with flashlights by their side, as you and Dean are stalking down the narrow alley. The concrete is wet and filled with puddles from the downpour from earlier. Everything is dark  except certain illuminated spots from a street lamp or two. Just an hour ago, you all figured out that it was just one vampire and it so happens to be a woman who had killed just two people. 

You start walking ahead of Dean and notice a large shadow behind a big dirty dumpster. 

“Dean, over here.” 

You hear his heavy footsteps approaching from behind you and suddenly his flashlight shines at the shadow ahead, revealing a puddle of blood. Reaching for your gun, you continue walking ahead of Dean, who’s whispering to you in protest. You ignore him peaking behind the dumpster and falling to your knees to help the struggling, on the verge of death, man that lies on the floor. 

“This case, the vamp is killed two vics so far?” You ask as you turn back to the man. “It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.” 

“Three now.” Dean furrows his brows at the man laying down. 

“No, he’s not gonna die.” Your hands stop at his neck, bloods pouring out. “It’s our job to save these people, just call a ambulance and then we’ll go.” 

“This son of a bitch kills two people… all of a sudden she keeps one alive?” 

“It could’ve been an accident. I mean, keeping him alive.” 

Your hands are covered in the mans blood as you keep pressure on the wound on his neck. He’s slowly passing out, and you’re beginning to panic. 

“Alright there’s too much blood, Dean. Call them, now.” 

Dean keeps the flashlight on you and the victim as he takes his phone out of his jacket pocket and begins to diall. 

“Don’t you worry. We’re getting help.” 

“Yeah, hi-” 

Dean’s voice comes to a stop. You hear a loud thud coming from behind you and looking his way, you call for him as you see him lying on ground beside the dumpster. There’s a dent in it from him being thrown into it with great force. His voice is hoarse as he groans in pain, his head lifting up to meet your concerned eyes. Without saying anything, the two of you are furrowing your brows in confusion trying figure out what the hell just happened. 

“Dean!” 

You and Dean both glancing up behind you to see Sam and Stevie calling his your name from the end of the alley. You’re sighing in relief and notice that none of you were hurt by the possible vampire that just threw Dean into the side of dumpster. Paying attention back to the victim, you notice that he’s now fully passed out. Your bloody covered fingers glide up to the side of his neck by his ear and pressy gently, waiting to feel a pulse. Once you feel the slight thumps pulsing against his skin, your eyes are shutting for just seconds in content that he might be okay and survive this. 

“We’re alright!” You call out to them. “Still gonna need that ambulance.” 

“Where the hell did that bitch go?” Dean asked. 

“Stevie, behind you!” 

Something pulls you back off the man on the ground, sending you flying and skidding across the concrete. Groaning in pain, you open your eyes to see a blonde woman hovering over you, her mouth opening wide revealing her fangs. Lifting up your right leg, you pull back and kick her hard off of you, causing her to land back on her knees. You feel a burning sensation on your knees and look down to see your light blue jeans have been shredded, covered with a little bit of your blood. 

Behind the vampire just a few feet away, Dean’s rolling up his jacket sleeves and taking the blade to his arm, slicing himself open, blood rushing down his arms. 

“You smell that?” He yells. “Come and get it!” 

“Dean, no!” 

“Yeah, that’s right. Come on...I smell good, don’t I?”

The blonde vampire smiles and snaps her head around, getting ready to pounce over to him. Standing up, you run over to the woman and wrap your arm around her neck trying to pull her back. She instantly elbows you in the stomach, causing you to lose your balance and let her gain some traction over your body. Once she grips you by the waist and makes you face Dean, he rases his arm to make sure she smells his blood. 

She stands there looking back and forth between the two of you, as she grips you tighter by the waist and moves your hair, licking the side of your neck. Your breathing becomes shallow, frightened that she might bite into you, turn you or even kill you. The blade! You remember it’s just behind your back in your jeans, but her grip on you makes it hard for you to reach behind without her noticing. 

“You want me, not her!” Dean shouts, dropping his blade. “Come on!” 

With just your luck, the blade in the back of your waist band drops to the floor before you could even reach for it and you’re cursing in anger. The vampire starts laughing while shoving you off, sending you gliding across the ground and into a puddle. Your eyes widen in horror watching the woman come close to Dean, her neck titled and right onto his neck. No.

 No, this isn’t time for him. He’s not supposed to die tonight, not like this. He can’t. 

Sam and Stevie’s voices echo through the alley and gets louder as they stand behind Dean in shock. Within seconds, you see him holding up his hand with the syringe, injecting her with the dead man’s blood. 

“Dean!” Sam yells, running to his brother. 

The vampire falls the ground and Dean starts breathing heavily, relieved that the vampire is knocked out on the ground. Sam and Stevie stand by him with questionable looks on their faces, pausing to make sure he’s alright. 

“What?” 

“Cutting it a little close, don’t ya think?” Sam asks as his eyes widen in confusion and a hint of panic.

“Ah,” his voice is still breathy, “that’s just chum in the water. Worked, didn’t it?” 

Stevie rolls her eyes and makes her way over to you and the guy on the floor. Squatting down she places a hand on your shoulder and checks for any bite marks. 

“You’re okay.”

You nod and tilt you head at the man. 

“I’ll call an ambulance now.” Stevie says and takes out her phone. 

Dean’s laughing and you stare him down as if he was acting like a mad man. He looks down at the vampire then at you. He catches your eyes and winces just a bit, feeling like he might’ve pissed you off or something. 

He’s picks up the blade from the ground and walks over to you, lending a hand. You’re cursing to yourself and to Dean, but he’s not noticing. You reach out to grab his empty hand and he helps you up. You’re gripping onto his jacket, pulling him into a tight hug. He freezes, but before he can even respond to the hug, you’re shoving him back slapping him in the chest with all your strength. 

“Do you want to die?” You ask. “Is that it? What the hell was that!” 

“Oh come on! I’m fine.”

“We’re supposed to be working together, watching each others backs. That was the complete opposite!” 

“She was going to bite you!” He yells back. “I did what I needed to do.” 

Dean steps forward but you inch back. You’re pissed, but now isn’t the time for another fight. 

“Look, let’s just fucking tie her up and get to the bottom of this shit. I’m wet, exhausted and just wanna kill some vamps!” 

The three of them are just standing there watching you as you curse, wiping your bloody hands on your jeans. Turning around from them, you’re bending down and hold your hand over the man’s chest man. Although he’s passed out, you whisper in assurance that he’ll get the help he needs. 

The brothers quickly grab the vampire and tie her arms together, as all of you start walking away further into the alley and to an abandoned motel not too far. As Dean and Sam are interrogating the vampire, Lucy, Stevie and you are outside on watch just in case anyone comes by and starts questioning the boys and what they’re doing inside the musty motel room. 

Just outside in the shivering upstate weather, it stays silent between you and Stevie. She’s casually smoking a cigarette which you constantly nag her about the day she was old enough to buy a pack. Rolling your eyes at the smell you’re moving off the wall, putting some distance between you and her. 

“Look,” Stevie begins, “I know you haven’t seen Dean since he kicked us to the curb, but what the hell was that back there? Getting mad at Dean. I know it was a dumb move by him to literally put his neck out in the open, but he’s a damn Winchester.” 

You’re not looking at her and she can tell you’re trying to avoid the topic. She flicks her cigarette to the ground, stomping her boot right on top of it and closes the distance you. 

She says your name, “I understand all the tension and not wanting to admit things. But is there something you’re not telling me?” 

Biting your lip in contemplation, you’re furrowing your brows as you stare at your sister. You’re not sure how to respond to any of that, not wanting to discuss the deal Dean made or the feelings you’ve been carrying for almost your entire life. But you can’t lie to Stevie. You never had to, or wanted to so now was no different. If everyone else but her was filled in on Dean’s problem, then why can’t Stevie? You’re all family, she should know. 

Shaking your head as you turn to her, your eyes start prickling with tears. 

“You know all about demons now, don’t you?”

“Yes, why?” Stevie perks up. 

“So then you know people, hunters make deals with them?” Stevie nods her head. “Turns out Dean made a deal not too long ago and his time is running out.” 

“So that’s why he let us stay with them?” 

You’re shrug in response. 

“Dick.” Stevie rolls her eyes. “What a dumbass.” You can tell she’s trying to mask her sadness with insults directed at Dean. He was always someone who looked out for her as if he had another younger sibling to watch out for. If you needed time alone, he would watch Stevie and Sam and make sure they weren’t getting themselves in trouble at school. 

“His time is running out, how long does he have?” 

“Sam said a year.” 

“When is that year up?” 

“I’m not sure, but I’m beginning to worry that it’s almost up. I can feel it even though I don’t want to.” 

Stevie wraps her arm around yours and leans her head on your shoulder. 

“We’re here...I stuck around because he told me he wanted to make things up to me, to us for pushing us away. I just feel like he’s only doing it because death’s about to knock on baby’s door.” 

Her head lifts off from your shoulder to stare at you. 

“Hey, don’t talk like that. You and me both know how he feels about you, Sam sees it too. Take it from Dean and don’t let this deal ruin anything. We’ll take it day by day and we’ll be there for them. Figure it out all together, like we used to.” 

You squeeze her arm and sigh in sadness. 

“Alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Thank you Stevie.”

The two of you hear noises coming from behind you and notice that the door is opening, catching your attention. Stevie and you detach and see Sam walking out of the door with a dejected expression playing on his face. 

“What went on in there?” You ask Sam as he walks out the door. 

“She got turned by vampire blood. Met a dude named Dixon back at some club.” 

“Let me guess, he spiked her drink?” Stevie asks and Sam nods. “Disgusting.”

“She didn’t know what she was doing.” 

“The job is rough Sam, you know that.” 

“I know.” He shrugs as Dean walks out. “I know.”

“What happened?” 

“She’s dead.” Dean responds as he walks pass everyone and to the impala. “We’re off to a club!” 

You turn back to Sam and Stevie in disbelief and scoff, “is he joking right now?”

Sam was filling you and your sister in about how Dean wasn’t joking about going to a club. It’s named Spider and it was where the woman said she was drugged by a man. And that’s who you were all on the look out for. Dixon, a possible leader of the nest he’s been creating, or trying to create and failing miserably. 

Tonight’s one of the longest nights you had in a while. The exhaustion is gnawing at your body just longing for sleep and a quick break. Everything on your mind is catching up to you, your anger about the deal and the pondering sadness about potentially losing him. Your mind is starting to take you to how Dean might be feeling about it himself too. Then it hits you. Dean has always been closed off, sometimes opening up to you in the past. But now? It’s different and your anxiety was beginning to soar even further than it was before.

-

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