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sweetestberryofthebunch · 4 months ago

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Give You My Heart (Detective!Agnes x f!Reader)

For Agnes it‘s always been all work, no life. Balance isn’t even a word in her vocabulary. Growing frustrated with your fiancée, you show up at the precinct and remind her what she’s missing out on.

Content/Warnings: Fluff and Smut, Age Gap Relationship, Brief mention of Somnophilia, Oral, Oral fixation, Semi Public Sex, Degradation, Face Slapping, Hair pulling, Dom/Sub Dynamic, Hard Dom!Agnes, Slight Brat!Reader, mention of safe wording, spit play and choking again, mentions of boot licking

Tag List for Part II: @crazycatladycaceta @live-laugh-love-lupone @jazzyxqzl you guys are the reason I wanted to write more of this, I hope you enjoy!

Read the warnings for this one guys, please! I just want everyone to be aware of what‘s coming and no unpleasant surprises. Love ya!

If I ever write about these two’s actual wedding, I’ll treat them to a fully planned out wedding night scene and not just these little sprinkles of kink I throw at them right now. Which reminds me - do we think Agnes is a Flogger or a Paddle gal?

Spring had sprung earlier than usual this year. By the end of January, the snow had retreated, and now, just a few weeks later, the first fresh green started blooming out of the frost. Mornings were crisp and clear, afternoons sunny but cold. Like every year, you felt the clamping grip of winter fall off your shoulders. Your skin was clearer, your body felt lighter, less stale. Colour seeped back into the world, a much needed change for both you and especially your partner.

You knew for sure that winter was over when Agnes began to forego her pajamas, opting to sleep in nothing but her boxers, if at all, like she preferred.

She slipped into bed one night, as per usual home hours after you, way past any reasonable hour.

At first you gasped when you felt her bare arms drape around you from behind in the earliest hours of the morning. But then you felt her hands start to wander, and you let out a little sigh, leaning into her touch, her bare skin quickly warming up under the covers.

New Year's Eve had put an especially nasty case upon her, something about Gang activity and illegal explosives, and the entire precinct had been working overtime since.

Agnes arrived at the Police Station before sunrise and left way past sundown, with a new stack of files to read before eventually finally passing out. The lunchboxes you packed her returned half empty at best, and when Agnes returned late at night from work, she barely had the energy, let alone the mood to talk.

In fact, the most you‘d seen of your fiancée this year so far was her half empty coffee mug in the morning, left abandoned on the kitchen table when she had to rush to work; And her silhouette in the dark when she slipped into bed beside you way past midnight. Most days, you were lucky to even get a greeting.

So, when she slipped under the covers, bare skin against yours, and you were still awake, you felt your body ache for her immediately. It wasn’t fair that work occupied her this much anyway.

„Agnes“, you whispered as her fingertips traced over your ribs. You could feel her grunt something unintelligible into your neck, lips teasing at the fine baby hairs there. Pushing your butt back into her, a low moan hurried past your lips. It had been a while … since early December, to be exact.

„Relax baby“, Agnes husked into your ear, voice drowsy, „Just let me…“

Her hand stilled on your lower tummy, just above the waistband of your pajama pants.

At first, you stayed completely still beneath her touch, even holding your breath in anticipation. Agnes didn’t tease you often, preferring to fuck you stupid fast and hard, but sometimes she did like to test your patience. Or rather, her own.

Minutes passed without her hand moving an inch. Her breath against your neck was slow, and even. This was not like her at all.

And then, you heard it. A low, quiet little snore, right into your neck.

You let out a sigh, head sinking a little deeper into the pillow. She had fallen asleep on you, right in the middle of this.

When you turned around, careful not to wake her, you were met with her pale face. She hadn’t even opened her ponytail before slipping into bed. Even in her sleep, her brow was creased in worry, her resting face at this point. Your fingers traced over her forehead, brushing a few loose strands out of her face. The touch was featherlight so as to not wake her.

“Oh Agnes.“ you shook your head, arm wrapping around her shoulders to pull her limp body close, cradling her head to your chest.

Gently, you leaned forward to press a kiss right onto the crown of her head. The crease on her forehead evened out a little, so you kissed her two more times, for good measure.

Tomorrow, you were going to make her relax, and if you had to drag her home by her hair, then so be it.

The day started beautifully. Clear, blue sky, crisp fresh air. Despite how close to her you‘d fallen asleep, when you stirred, the space beside you was already empty, the cold morning light illuminating the crumpled up blankets.

You went about your morning routine as per usual, however, as you stepped into the kitchen, drying your freshly washed hair with a towel, you found Agnes‘ coffee mug already cleaned up and drying on the dishrag.

She also had emptied both the last jar of peanut butter and the homemade strawberry jam Mrs Davis had gifted you for Christmas. You rolled your eyes. For someone so grumpy every time she had to see the neighbours, Agnes certainly enjoyed their gifts.

After work, you usually ran your errands and went home to feed the bunny. However, today you had fed Scratchy early, and stayed downtown. The walk to the police station wasn’t far, so as the sun went down, you trailed through the little downtown area, past shops that were slowly closing up for the day. You only stopped once at the little flower shop just at the corner to townsquare, where you spotted a beautiful, full bouquet of white and purple tulips, the first ones of the season.

When the two of you had started dating, you‘d made a point of always buying Agnes flowers, noticing the way she’d smile to herself despite trying to play it cool. A year later, when you‘d moved into her place, you had found that every bouquet she‘d ever received from you had been carefully dried, now lining up the wall of her home office. You had cried, and Agnes had made a point of fucking you on her desk that night, forcing you to look up at the wall as she‘d whispered her favourite memory about each date you‘d had into your ear.

As the police station came into view, you swallowed, gripping the fresh tulips tighter. Time to remind her what she was missing out on.

The parking lot was empty except for Agnes' car. Even the chief's VW was gone already, leaving Agnes to lock up by herself once again. Usually, you‘d be annoyed by that, but today, that was exactly what you‘d anticipated.

Your steps echoed through the precinct. The overhead lights were off, leaving the place tainted in early nights grey and the very last orange glow of sundown. There was only one light on, of course, Agnes desk lamp in her personal cubicle, hidden away only by a shabby glass front.

Your fiancée was crouched over her desk, propped up on her elbow as her other hand held a pen, tracing over whatever notes she had of the day. She didn’t look up as you approached, not even as her door creaked open, and you slipped inside.

There was a plastic pitcher on top of a metal cabinet right beside you, and you put the flowers inside without hesitation.

Agnes would notice in a week or so that her pitcher was in use as a makeshift vase, and you’d scold her about her water intake then.

Right now, you just stepped further into her office, stepping around her desk as you cleared your throat.

“You know”, at the sound of your voice, Agnes' head shot up in surprise.

„I‘m starting to think about getting into the illegal trade of explosives on the black market“, you drawled, standing right in front of her chair, hip leaning against her crappy desk. Pointedly, you raised the hand adorned with your engagement ring, fingertips drumming against your cheek, „Since that’s the only way to see my Partner these days.“

Blue eyes watch you closely, before Agnes leaned back in her chair, letting out a deep grown. „Don’t joke about that.“

God, she looked spent. „This case has been kicking my ass.“

You pushed yourself off the desk, kicking her chair away from the surface, turning her seat until she was facing you head on.

Tired eyes watched you, and the way Agnes‘ glance dragged down your body, following each every single movement. Without hesitation, you grabbed the armrests of her chair. She didn’t stop you, now caged in her seat as you leaned over her, your arms on either side of her.

You tilted your head to the side, putting on our strict no-discussion voice.

„Not as bad as I‘m gonna kick your ass if you don’t come home with me right now.“

To your surprise, Agnes' eyes darkened, pupils wide. She shifted around in her seat, throat bobbing as she swallowed. Oh.

„Baby“, Agnes' voice was hoarse and you had to hold back a self satisfied little grin.

Your lips were only a few inches away from hers, and you could smell her breath. She definitely did not have the baby carrots and hummus you’d packed her for lunch. There were hinds of chocolate and cheap black coffee. When your lips met hers, it was barely a kiss. Instead, your tongue darted out immediately, pushing past her chapped lips as you licked inside her mouth. Definitely chocolate.

You pulled back, your head tilted to the side. If you looked down, you could see right down her grey flannel into her cleavage, where only the soft cotton of her white undershirt kept her skin from yours. One of your hands let go of the chair, instead pulling down her collar. Your head dove down, and you pressed a single, lingering kiss to her chest, right between her breasts. Her skin was soft and pliant beneath your lips, and you sucked it in, giggling into her chest as your teeth grazed over her.

Agnes' breath hitched loudly and you pulled away, letting her skin go with a wet pop. There was a clear red mark of your teeth around the little bruise you’d sucked into her skin. As you admired your handiwork, you noticed that she was shivering. Oh, she was starving.

„What?“, you cooed, leaning in a little closer. „Not here? Not at work?“

You chuckled as your back straightened, your breath ghosting over her face. You were enjoying this way too much.

„But Darling”, you craned your neck, whispering into her ear. “Where else am I supposed to have my way with you? It’s not like you’re anywhere fucking else lately.“

Agnes' eyes darkened. There she was, that dominating, darker side of her. The animal inside of her, the one that she had starved for far too long.

Her hand shot up, fingers grasping at your neck like a vice. You tried to gasp, but your airways were already clamped tight. When she spoke, Agnes' voice was dangerously low.

„That’s what this is? I work overtime for two weeks and you get so desperate you show up at my job to fuck?“ Her hand tightened around your throat.

You gave her a sheepish little smirk, glancing over to the shelf by her door. Your pulse was racing in her grip. When your lips parted slightly, you desperately sucked in a few shallow breaths. „I also brought you flowers.“

For a moment, Agnes just stared at you. Your eyes watching her face so closely, open wide and round. Your pupils wide and your chest heaving. The wild glimmer in your stare, not nervous about what might come next, but excited. She may be the one in control, but you had always been the instigator of most of your scenes. And Agnes loved every second of it. The way your breathing was completely at her mercy. Her eyes went dark, hard as she exposed her teeth in a single, low growl. She was met with your smile, deliriously grinning back at her as you swallowed, throat rolling against her grip.

Agnes lips crashed against yours. Your lips met hers head on, open mouthed and you kissed her back with ferocity. Tongues intertwined, Agnes pushed yours down with dominating precision, licking over your teeth. You moaned into her mouth, deeply and guttural, and her hand left your neck.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you pulled away just enough to take a look at her. Agnes' face was flushed, chest rising and falling. You dove back in, lips connecting to her jaw, trailing down her neck, right between her collarbones.

“Baby”, Agnes huffed, head rolling back against the chair. Her hands found your hair, digging in to keep you close.

“Keep going”, it was supposed to be an order, but with the way you felt her tremble under your lips, the way her legs parted so you could crouch down in front of her, you knew she was begging for you.

Your fingers found the ragged fabric of her shirt. With one strong pull, you tore it open, sending a small shower of buttons flying and then pouring out the ground. Agnes' mouth opened in protest, but you were faster.

The moment you had access to her, you leaned down, tongue darting out to lick a firm stroke over her right nipple. The sensitive bud pebbled against the thin fabric of her undershirt. Instead of scolding you, Agnes' head rolled back with a long moan. Your hands slid down her front, over her ribs, her stomach. All the way towards her jeans, tracing all her most sensitive spots as you went. At the same time, your mouth wandered to her other nipple, kissing it through the thin fabric, sucking it into your mouth.

Agnes flinched, fingers scratching over your scalp. “Lower.”

You sat back on your knees, settling down on the ground between her legs. Under different circumstances, you would have peeled her bare slowly, layer by layer. You would have crouched down on the floor, kissed the tip of her boots all the way up to her ankles, taken them off carefully before teasing your way up her leg.

But you were on the dirty floor of her office, and these weren’t shoes you wanted anywhere near your mouth, and if you had really bad luck, Agnes’ chief could walk in any moment. You had to be quick.

So, as you made quick work of the fly of her jeans, you indulged in a few kisses on her lower stomach, on the thin line of skin where her white shirt had ridden up. Then, your fingers hooked underneath both waistbands, her jeans and her boxers.

One glance up, and you were met with a low chuckle. Agnes was watching your every move, her eyes black with desire, jaw tense.

“Can you..?”, you asked, giving her pants a little tug. Her hips rose up, and you took the opportunity to pull both pants down abruptly in one go. The fabric gathered around her ankles, and you shuffled forward on your knees, until you were comfortably settled between her knees.

One of Agnes' hands rested firmly on the top of your head, urging you closer. Even from where you sat, you could smell sweat, musk and need. The scent of sex. The scent of your future wife.

There was no time to waste, no build up, no teasing. You pressed one kiss to the hair curling above her center, inhaling the scent there. The hand on your head flattened, pulling you closer.

“No Games baby.”

You batted your eyes, glancing up at her without pulling away. Her face was stern, brows raised, eyes fluttered shut. One more kiss above her core, and then you finally leaned down to where she was aching for you.

Your nose brushed through her folds, opening her up like a flower. You could feel her shudder above you, and it made you smile instantly. Barely touched her, and she was already getting worked up. Lips still curled upwards, you craned your neck to press a teasing kiss against her soaked core, thick, liquid desire spilling out of her, coating your lips.

„Baby“, Agnes groaned, and you felt her hips buck against your face impatiently, „Don’t be a fucking tease.“

Fingers curled into your hair, pushing your pursed lips further into her open cunt. You couldn’t help but let out a little giggle at her urgency. The vibrations of the sound made her let out a strangled gasp.

You darted the tip of your tongue out, dragging over her most exposed, sensitive parts, slowly teasing its way right up her center to her clit. The little bundle of nerves was already swollen, exposed to you, pulsating under your tongue‘s quick, gentle flicks.

One glance up was enough to see her free hand gripping the arm rest, short nails digging into black hard plastic. Her other hand scratched at your scalp, keeping you exactly where she wanted you.

„Just like that baby“, she growled, blue eyes piercing into yours. „You just couldn’t wait to get home, huh?“

Her tone grew harsh, that rough, teasing lilt she always used when she talked down to you. A shudder ran up your spine, and your lips closed around her swollen clit, sucking the bud in. Agnes gasped, hand in your hair curling into a fist.

„You know Chief could walk in any moment, he tends to stop by to send me home after hours.”

Much to her dismay, your mouth retreated. You sat back on your heels, staring up at her in complete silence. Your face was drenched in her fluids, a single string of spit still connected your lips to her cunt, before it quickly sank into the chair’s fabric cushion, leaving a dark spot. The way Agnes' eyes darkened at the sight didn’t go by you unnoticed.

“Maybe”, you glared up at her in accusation, “You should actually listen to what your boss tells you some time.” You licked your lips, tasting her. “And I would also like to have you home more.”

The slap came so sudden, you had no time to brace yourself for the impact. Before you knew it, the back of her hand made contact with your cheek, leaving a sharp sting behind. You let out a whimper, one hand grasping at the irritated skin. Wide, watery eyes stared up at her.

While you knew you were pushing limits by talking back, you hadn’t expected her to get this worked up this fast.

For a moment, you saw Agnes' hard front drop. The grip on your hair softened just the smallest bit and her eyes glanced from your lips to your cheek before settling on your eyes.

“Need to tap out?” There was a slight shake in her voice, palm cupping the back of your head. You shook your head immediately, never breaking eye contact.

“I’m golden”, you whispered, rubbing your cheek against her bare thigh, feeling her relax into the contact.

The tip of your nose was tickled by the dark hairs curling in the crook of her thigh and core, and you gave her a dazzling smile. You felt the goosebumps rise on her milky thigh, smiling before pressing a single, gentle kiss to the sensitive skin.

Agnes sucked in a sharp breath, hand gently running through your hair one more time before her eyes darkened again, that firm, cold front slipping back into place.

“Good”, she drawled, hand wrapping around your throat. Her fingers curled, nails digging into your skin, leaving crescent moon markings in their place.

She pulled you up by your neck, meeting you halfway as she leaned down in her seat. Her breath was hot against your face.

When she leaned forward, it wasn’t to kiss you. Instead, her tongue darted out, licking a single, long stripe from your chin, over your slightly parted lips up to the tip of your nose, gathering the mix of sweat and her own desire from you. With the slight pressure on your throat, you didn’t dare try to kiss her, just held still as she tasted herself from you, watching the way her gaze darkened as it fixed on your face, nothing but desire written all over it. The desire to please her, taste her. Desire for more.

Agnes let go of your throat, pushing you back down to the floor. “Get back to it”, she ordered, jaw tight as she licked her lips. “You already wasted enough of my time.”

This time, you didn’t allow yourself to tease her anymore.

Instead, when your lips met her absolutely drenched, pulsating core, you poured every ounce of desperation into it. The deep, overwhelming love for the woman above you that ran through your veins like the very blood keeping you alive, the need to please her the way you lost yourself whenever she took control, and it felt like flying above the clouds.

Your lips closed around her clit and you could feel her racing pulse on your tongue. Sucking her drenched skin into your mouth, your tongue flicked right over it , fast, hard, unrelenting.

One of her thighs swung over your shoulder, and you felt the heel of her steel toed boots dig into your spine. The sudden pain pulled a moan from your lips, and you felt Agnes shudder at the sensation.

“J… just like that“, her groan was strangled, voice pitching higher in that special way it only did when she lost control of herself.

Her heel pressed into your back harder, and you moaned again, this time longer, deeper, pressing your nose and chin into her cunt.

Agnes yelped, and the rare sound was music to your ears. Her hips stuttered up into your face, the hand in your hair curling into a fist as she pushed your face closer.

It was hard to breathe in this position, but that just meant you wrapped your arm around the leg on your shoulder, pulling her even closer.

Agnes' right hand that wasn’t buried in your hair found yours resting on her thigh, and your fingers intertwined. A small smile formed on your lips, just for a second, and you pressed one more kiss right to her clit.

The strokes of your tongue became longer, tongue flat as you ran through her folds from her entrance to her clit. Wet, quenching sounds filled the dim office, mixing with the low grunts coming from the woman above you, in tune with the pace of your tongue.

„Baby“, Agnes breathed, and her hand in your hair tugged you towards her aching clit again, „Baby I‘m so close. Please!“

That was all you needed to hear. Your nose buried in the hairs curling just above her cunt and your neck strained as you leaned in further. It was the type of position your chiropractor probably lost his mind over, but that didn’t matter when you had Agnes O‘Connor begging for her release above you.

Your lips wrapped around her clit, sucking the bundle of nerves in. Her legs twitched, the heel on your back kicking up before pushing back into you even harder. If it wasn’t for the laws of physics, you’d be melting into her by this point. You certainly tried to, science be damned.

Your tongue flicked over her most sensitive bundle of nerves in rapid succession, face buried in her cunt from your nose to the tip of your chin. You could feel a single drop of thick liquid desire run down your neck, and the sensation made you moan into her.

Agnes sucked in a sharp breath, her short nails scratching over your scalp. „Yes!“, she pressed out through gritted teeth, a strangled and broken moan somewhere above you.

You couldn’t breathe like this, there was a growing strain in your neck and you‘d certainly wake up with bruises on your back and your knees tomorrow. But none of that mattered right now. Not when Agnes was growing frantic, when her body was twitching and spasming at the hot, wet pleasure of your mouth. Nails dug into your skin, scratching the surface open. Another small mark you‘d carry around for days to come. Your tongue pushed against her further, and you let out one final strangled whimper, the sound muffled by her cunt on your face.

Still, it did the job. Agnes let out a sharp hiss, every muscle in her body tensing up, pulling you in tighter, impossibly closer. Your tongue worked against her relentlessly, pushing her over the edge of her orgasm and right through it. You didn’t stop despite starting to flinch from lack of air, not until Agnes had ridden out the wave that had washed over her, until her heel slid off your shoulder, legs shaking as her body sank into the washed out cushion of her chair, finally relaxing.

And even then, you only let up slowly, tongue working relentlessly as you licked up the mess between her legs, kissing over her bush, her exposed clit, her drenched folds. Only when you were satisfied with your work did you pull away. Your face was absolutely ruined, slick from your nose to your chin, on your cheeks and jaw. The single drop that had dripped down your neck had caught the collar of your shirt, leaving a wet stain.

You truly were lucky there was no one at the precinct anymore, because there was no denying in what had just happened.

When you finally pulled away enough to look up at her again, there was an exhausted but satisfied smile on your face. You took a deep breath, lungs practically screaming for air that finally, you granted them again.

„You really needed that“, you commented, watching Agnes chest rise and fall in deep, slow breaths.

„Yeah.“ Agnes' head rolled back against the rest of her chair, her eyes fluttered shut for a moment. „I really needed that.“

Your face nuzzled against her thigh, leaning into her hot skin. There was a thin layer of sweat coating her, but you didn't mind, pressing a few lazy kisses along her leg as you caught your breath. Her hand stayed lazily draped over your head, fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair as she just let the exhaustion finally wash over her. It was only now that she truly let herself take a moment just to breathe.

After a short moment to recollect herself, Agnes finally began to close up the Station. Comfortable silence settled between you two as she did, one of her arms loosely wrapped around your waist, pulling you along as she checked if all doors were locked and lights turned off. She’d pulled her pants back up but hadn’t bothered with the belt that now hung open around her hips, and there were no buttons left to close her shirt again, so she just wore it open, white undershirt on display; which included the wet stains your mouth had left over her nipples.

You wiped your mouth with your sleeve, grinning into the fabric. „We have to stop fucking in unconventional places.“

„Why?“ Agnes' nose nuzzled into your neck. Her hand on your back slipped downwards into the pocket of your jeans. „It seems like you’re having fun.“

The dramatic pout you gave her made her laugh.

“I didn’t put down money for a king sized bed to fall asleep alone every night.“

To be fair, it was hard to make an argument for your bed right now. Still, your point stood firm and the look you gave her made it clear that you wouldn’t let her argue.

Agnes shook her head with a chuckle.

„Okay“, she held her free hand up in surrender. Her other arm pulled you closer into her side. „Next time we‘ll make use of our bed again.“

Agnes fumbled with her keys, thumb running over the rough fabric of your jeans as she locked up the precinct behind you.

You waited for her to finish, before hooking two fingers under her chin, forcing her to look up at you.

„Which means“, you said, and your tone left no room for discussions, „You‘ll have to come home before 8 pm. I am okay with eating dinner separately, but from now on I want you home at a reasonable time for bed.“

Agnes' brows rose up. „That’s what this entire thing was about?“

Your fingers wandered to rest against her cheekbone, turning her face to look directly at you. Her skin was rough beneath your touch. You wanted to comment how she wasn’t using the moisturiser you’d gotten her, but when Agnes leaned into your touch, there was no bite left in you. Not when she looked at you like that.

„You just want me home for bed?“

Your thumb ran over her bottom lip, traces of your own chapstick sticking to your finger.

„If I had it my way you‘d be home for dinner every night“, your voice was soft, but you stared at her intently. „We do the dishes together and catch the tail end of whatever game is on. If you manage not to talk about work all evening, we fuck on the couch. We go to bed because you’re tired, not because you’re so spent you might pass out.“

Her eyes darkened, and you felt her fingers dig into the flesh of your ass a little tighter. Agnes surged forward, but your hand on her cheek quickly held her back, mere inches from your lips. When she huffed in frustration you couldn’t help but grin.

„On weekends, which you will take off, we look at wedding venues. We‘re already behind on planning. I will show you every combination of flowers imaginable and you will give me your honest opinion on all of them. Also,“ you raised your chin, „You‘ll ask Agent Vidal where she gets her suits tailored. I love you, but I‘m not marrying you in a flannel.“

„Baby“, Agnes whined, a sound you rarely got to hear from her. You grinned, feeling her breath on your face.

„Promise“, you whispered, forehead resting against hers, „Promise me you‘ll take care of yourself better. And then we can fuck however and whereever you want.“

This time, when she leaned in, you didn’t stop her. Agnes' kiss was urgent, feverish. But when your eyes met hers, all you saw was love, her undying adoration for you. Your palm cupped her face.

„I promise“, she whispered so close to you, you felt the words more than you heard them. „I’m sorry about the last few weeks. You know how I get.“

You kissed her lips again. And then each corner of her mouth. And,before she could stop you, the tip of her nose. „I do. That’s why I came today.“

Her hand clasped firmly around yours as you finally made your way across the abandoned parking lot.

„You know, I always thought the interrogation room would be hot.“

You rolled your eyes. Of course she would think that. „Absolutely not, there’s a giant window!“

„Exactly. And handcuffs attached to the table.“

You felt the blood rush to your head. „Agnes!“

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #berry writes things #agnes o'connor #agnes of westview #Agnes x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x female reader #Agnes O’Connor x reader #agatha all along #wandavision

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gremlinmodetweeker · 1 month ago

Note

Do you still write?if so you write cuddling with cat koing but then he suddenly changes into his human form?

Okay so, I just finished my Mer!König au series, so I think it's finally time to tackle some of these asks. I definitely do still write for it, I just had a little blip around January-early May where I was going through a lot. At some point it might be worth posting about, but the point is that I'm better now and I hope to write more!

Now, this is a very interesting ask because I think this would only go one way.

König likes cuddling. Sometimes, a bit too much. He's an obnoxiously cuddly cat. He'll brush your face with your tail as you're blowing on soup while watching youtube. He's insufferable. However, he sometimes loses control a bit.

The last few times König lost control, it was when you were asleep. He'd be rolling around on his back while you slept and then, all of a sudden, poof! König would shift into his human form and smother you with his back. As soon as he shifts he shifts back, but let me tell you, reader probably goes to a doctor for a couple of months because waking up to something crushing you only to open your eyes and see nothing? Genuinely terrifying.

Well, that all comes to an end on a Friday night. Horangi is chilling and sitting on the chair in your room, sleeping soundly as he likes to do in the evening. König, however, is desperate for attention.

He's just living the best life and rolled on his back in your lap. His big yellow eyes are bright and his pupils have fully expanded as he's looking up at you.

You're watching youtube when you feel his paws reaching up at your face.

"König, stahp," you grumble as he knocks your food off your fork.

He mews and bats at you again.

"What's going on with you?" you mutter bitterly.

Seriously, this cat.

He merps again and you look down. As soon as you do, you sigh. He's just too cute to ignore.

You groan as you put away your laptop and put your plate down to focus your attention on your sweetest cat.

His eyes go even wider as you start to rub his cheeks. His purring is infectious, and soon you're smiling and cooing at how pretty your little prince is. You're just loving the feeling of rubbing his cheeks and you giggle when he drools a little bit. He's looking completely blissed out when, all of a sudden...

Poof!

It takes a minute for your brain to catch up as a giant man flops off the bed and onto the floor.

You're frozen in place, staring at the spot König once was as you hear someone profusely cursing in German.

You slowly turn your head to look up, and there you see a giant man with bright blue eyes staring down at you. His face is shrouded in a black hood with an all-too-familiar set of red tear tracks and his body is covered in that dreadful tactical clothing.

Him, you thought, it's Scary Big Bastard Man. And he's... He's in my lap???

"König?" you squeak.

"König what the fuck!?" you hear a man scream behind you.

You whip your head around to see a Korean man glaring at him. His eyes snap to you and he gulps.

The friendly Korean man.

"Okay, so, um, let me explain-"

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!"

You throw your laptop at the big man and your plate at the other and they curse and scramble towards the door.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU AND WHAT DID YOU DO TO KÖNIG!?"

"I didn't do anything!" man mountain screeches as the other rips him out through the door.

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU!!!"

You're running at them and grabbing anything you can to throw at them as they go.

"THE DOOR! GO TO THE DOOR!" the Korean man yells and shoves the man down to the kitchen floor.

You grab a knife and throw it at them, lodging it squarely in the big man's foot.

He screeches and in an instant...

Poof!

The knife clatters to the ground and where the big man was is now your dear sweet precious baby König, mewling with a bloody back paw.

Your eyes widen and you look at the Korean man glancing between you and König.

"Um," he looks down at König whining on the floor, "hi? My name's Horangi? You might know me as your pet cat."

You look down at König then back up at him.

"You know, like, nyah?"

You throw a knife at him too.

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dreamescapeswriting · 1 year ago

Text

Night Routine ~ MYG

WORD COUNT: 1.4K

GENRE: established relationships, parent AU, cute, fluffy, Yoongi being appreciative of his wife, both of them being adorable for one another

PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

A/N: I’m sorry this came out so short T-T

When you first found out that you were having a baby you'd worried that things were going to be strained between you and Yoongi, but you couldn't have been more wrong. Ever since you told him about the pregnancy he had become one of the most dotting husbands you could have ever asked for, anything you needed - or wanted - you got with only one ask. Though there had been a time in your pregnancy when Yoongi had been a little over the top with you, refusing to let you do anything except rest in bed until your waters broke.

"He's the cutest baby, ever," Yoongi told the boys as they sat in the living room. It was a few weeks since you'd given birth and it was finally time the uncles met their nephew, which they'd all nicknamed "Little Min".

"I think you're biassed," You giggled as you watched Yoongi rocking back and forth on the rocking chair with your son, his eyes fixated on him as if he could never look away. Yoongi could barely get away from his son, which you loved since you knew there were many parents out there that didn't want anything to do with their kids and you were thankful every day that Yoongi wasn't one of those.

The man had continued to postpone going back to work after his paternity leave had ended, choosing to use most of his holiday days from work for now and even asking if there was a way he could work from home. Yoongi never wanted to leave little Min's side, or yours for that matter which you found rather cute, though you were going to miss him when HYBE would eventually demand him back at the building. While Yoongi could happily work from home there was eventually going to come to a point where he would have to go back.

There had been a time in his life when work was the only thing that interested him, that if he wasn't working he was sleeping but now all of that was on the back burner as he put his family before everything.

"I will say, Little Min, is very cute." Taehyung chuckled as he looked over Yoongi's shoulder and smiled. The baby boy looked almost identical to you save for his nose which was most definitely your husband's, the boys fell in love the moment you gave birth.

"He'll get mine and Yn's talents all mixed into one tiny package," Yoongi told the boys as you smiled a little, your eyes getting heavier the longer you sat there. It had been a long night last night since Little Min decided he was going to cry every time you left the room to go back to your own bed, in the end, you'd ended up falling asleep on the rocking chair which hadn't been the best decision since now you had a cramp in your neck.

"The baby keeping you up at night, Yn?" Jimin questioned when he noticed that you were starting to slowly nod off on them, you never once complained about the late nights but it was obvious that they were starting to get to you. You were finding it harder and harder to stay awake through the day and you knew it wasn't ideal when you would be alone with your son soon. But it was your job as a mother to stay awake with him in the night and to make sure you could ease him back to sleep.

"He sleeps through the night," Yoongi announced proudly, not knowing the truth, your heart sunk a little as you realised it was going to come out to your husband, that wasn't in fact the case. You'd kept it from him, you knew how hard he worked and you didn't want your son to wake him in the middle of the night so you made sure to go straight away.

"Are you sure? Because Yn looks shattered," Namjoon chuckles, adding a quick "no offensive" at the end as you let out a tired laugh and shake your head. It was true you looked tired and you knew it, god even your bags had bags at this point but you weren't going to complain, not even once.

"Yn?" Yoongi turned himself to look at you, studying you for a moment and realising just how tired you did look and his heart broke a little.

"Does he wake you up?" Yoongi frowned, glancing over at you as you bit down on your lip a little, you didn't hide it from him to be mean or anything like that, it was simply because you wanted him to rest. Yoongi needed his sleep for work, you could always catch up on it the next day while your son napped.

"Only sometimes," You lied, your nose scrunching up as you did so and Yoongi pouted a little. He'd been with you long enough to know the telltale signs of when you were lying and your nose scrunching like that was one of them,

"Yn," He laughed weakly and shook his head at you, the boys smiled at one another and got up. It was obvious that you and Yoongi needed some time alone to talk about this and they were going to give that to you,

"We'll see you guys later, okay?" Jin asked as he bent down, giving you a tight squeeze as you hugged him back and smiled. The boys had become like brothers to you over the years,

"And if you ever need a babysitter, I'm only down the street," Hobi suggested as he hugged you next, moving to go and give little Min a kiss on the forehead as he fussed a little.

Once the boys had left Yoongi put your son back down to sleep and came to sit beside you on the loveseat, your head fell onto his shoulder and he held onto your hand, running his thumb over your skin. The thought of you doing all of the night feeds and changes crawled into his mind and guilt began to weigh him down,

"Why didn't you tell me he wasn't sleeping through the night? I could have been helping you," He whispered as you shook your head at him,

"You're going back to work soon, I didn't want you to be tired." You mumbled, yawning a little before looking up at Yoongi who seemed dumbfounded,

"I'm his mother, it's my job to be up with him." You mumbled the saying to him. You'd done so much online research and saw just how strong all of the other mothers were with this you knew you had to power through and be that for your son. If other people could stay up through the night and feel fine the next day then you were going to be the same way.

"You're the best mother in the world, that's true but do you know what I am?" He quizzed, moving a little to reach for a blanket to cover you both with, your eyes getting too heavy for you to try and keep open and you let them shut. Snuggling into your husband and letting out a relieved sigh as your body relaxed against his,

"Hmm?" You questioned, too tired to form any actual words at the moment,

"I'm his father which means it is also my job to look after him," He smiles as he notices your body relaxing more and more as you sink into a sleep state,

"And you." His voice seemed to be getting further away as you listened to him, a clear sign you were more tired than you thought and he smiled weakly.

"From now on, we will share the night routine. You're a strong mother Yn and there's no shame in asking for help," He whispered but you were already fast asleep by the time he said it.

You woke with a jump as you glanced around, you were laid in bed but the last thing you remembered was being on the loveseat with Yoongi, your husband, who wasn't in bed with you.

"Yoongi?" You whispered sliding out of the bed, grabbing your cardigan and making your way to the nursery, stopping in the door frame to see Yoongi who was cradling your son and rocking on the rocking chair inside of the room.

"He was fussing, so I came to put him back to sleep." He whispered, making your heart flutter as you knelt down beside the chair and looked at your two favourite boys in the whole world.

"We share the night routine," He ordered before kissing your cheek and sending you back to your own bed for the rest of the night so you could get some much needed rest.

#bts #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagines #suga #suga x reader #suga imagine #suga imagines

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venusshiftsss · 7 months ago

Text

✶ my shifting success story ✶

✶ backstory ✶

Let me set the scene: it was fall semester 2021 and I was a sophomore in high school. School had just gone back in person from being online and I desperately needed to go back online.

I have always had a lot of sensory issues related to being in in-person classrooms. However, since I hadn’t had to deal with them for a whole year, they got worse. A lot worse.

On top of that, I was being harassed and threatened every single day by a group of guys from my English class, which caused me severe anxiety.

Since the school was still holding some online classes for students who had opted to stay virtual before the school year began, my parents and I emailed the school asking if I could be virtual for the next semester. They said no.

So then we began exploring the option of transferring to a fully online school. There had previously been two online schools in my state, however one of them had closed a couple years prior. The one that remained was my only shot so we applied. Unfortunately, I was put on a waiting list of like 50 people.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

✶ the shift ✶

On November 30th, 2021, while I was sleeping in my first period digital design class, I ended up in a dream version of the classroom I was sitting in and became lucid. That’s when I decided to shift. Suddenly, there was a flash of light and I felt myself being pulled / falling downward into a dark void. I kept repeating to myself “I am shifting to a reality where I get into online school.”

Suddenly, I opened my eyes in this CR. I knew I had shifted. It didn’t matter that my current school wasn’t going to let me go virtual the next semester. It didn’t matter I was put on a long waiting list for what I believed to be the only online school in my state. I was going to get into online school.

A day or two later I found out about a new online school in my state, which miraculously had no waiting list at all. I already knew that I had shifted but this really solidified it for me since this school had never even came up on any of my google searches in my OR. We applied to that school on December 15th and I got accepted on the 17th.

In January of 2022, after I had already started the new school, the other school reached out and told us that I had been accepted there too (which was a bit shocking since last I heard there was 29 people in front of me on the waiting list). I stayed at the new school though since I had already started and I liked it there.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

Moral of the story is I shifted here. Shifting does not have to be to this exciting, magical thing. It can be done for mundane reasons. People shift all the time without even realizing. Shifting, in this case, saved my life. I don’t know what would have become of me had I not shifted.

This was the one known time that I shifted. There was another time where I think I might have shifted but I’m not sure if I did or if it was just a dream. Let me know in the comments if you want to hear more about that.

If you have read this far, thank you. I hope you enjoyed and happy shifting! ⁎⁺˳✧༚

#shifting #reality shifting #shifting realities #shifting community #reality shifter #quantum jumping #shifting motivation #shifting antis dni #shiftblr #shifting blog #shiftingrealities #shifting storytime #shifting stories

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cobaltperun · 7 months ago

Text

Eternal Flame (13) - Black Friday

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Chapter summary: The distance ended up being exactly what you and Jenna needed to get some clarity.

Spotify playlist

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part / Next Part

Word Count: 5.7k

-I wanna be happy, could you show me how it's done?-

When Hugh took you to Ethiopia you didn't think you would be spending half the day raking leaves with him. “I thought we were on a vacation,” you said roughly four hours into the manual labor he's been putting you through. Granted, he was right there with you, doing the same thing, so at least that made it fair to an extent. His kids and wife smartly avoided this activity and were in a warm house, drinking coffee and getting to know the locals.

“No harm in some work,” Hugh figured, getting up and wincing as he straightened his back. Oh yeah, he was several decades older than, you frankly you were almost sorry for him right now. “We'll sleep a lot better tonight.”

You did have troubles sleeping, so maybe that’s what he was trying to do.

“Yeah, that's right. Keep finding the positive in everything. I’ll ask you what you think tomorrow, when it turns out that your back is hurting, because you couldn't let a twenty-year-old do a better job than you,” and stupidly you got competitive as well. At least you did things a lot faster since you both wanted to see which one of you could do the job faster and better. As it turns out, being young did have advantages in this particular situation.

“I let you win,” he said as he leaned on the rake, but not too hard though, as you were both afraid that leaning on them properly might make them snap, and that would be an embarrassing way to fall to the ground.

You rolled your eyes, amused by his refusal to accept loss with grace. “So, what's really the point of all this? You've had me working, had me meditating, hell, nearly roped me into doing yoga with you. Come on, spill it,” you said once you began making your way back to the shed to leave the rakes before going back to where Deb and Hugh’s kids were.

“You really should try yoga though,” he was trying to change the subject, to avoid answering your question and you just turned to face him, meeting his eyes and just studying him for a moment. And then he slumped slightly, giving in to your silent demand. “I'm trying to keep you occupied, I guess, not sure if that will do any good, but we might as well start somewhere.”

The expression on your face softened as Hugh said that. You could have figured as much. “You're being ridiculous, but I appreciate it,” the truth was that you probably didn't have any idea how to approach what you were feeling and going through either, and he was just scrambling to try and do something. He was making an effort while hoping that maybe one of those things would work for you, and some were actually working.

The first few days he had to pull you to sit down and meditate with him, but this morning you sat down next to him all on your own. For what it was worth you did appreciate spending ten minutes purely on yourself, being in no rush to do anything, feeling no pressure, having no deep thoughts plaguing your mind. It was just ten minutes, and in that brief period of time you could take a moment and relax. Somehow, starting the day like that was good for you, it was making you feel calm at the start of the day instead of tense as you usually were.

And despite the occasional joking complaints you made about the vacation turning into a glorified test of your stamina, you enjoyed yourself. You were gaining a new perspective on life in general, something to help you look at things from a different point of view. And throughout all of that the ring hanging from your neck brushed against your skin and reminded you that at the end of the day this all had to be worth it.

~X~

There has never been a January this miserable in Jenna's life, filled with so much despair and sorrow and exhausting conversations with her family. All of them, mostly her parents, but also her siblings, aside from Aliyah who saw how she was at the airport, were repeating that you weren't good for her. Repeating that she was like this because of you, that she was difficult to talk to, that she was miserable, that she had a short temper and wasn't pleasant to be around, all because of you.

Eventually she just packed her bag and went back to LA, cutting her family time short, because she could no longer take constantly hearing that. The worst thing about it was that it was getting to her head, and she feared that when, and if, she ever got the chance to see you again, that all those words her family kept repeating would end up reaching her. That the moment she saw you that she would start thinking whatever she had with you wasn't worth losing the support of her family.

And yet, as conflicted as she felt, she still often found herself with your shirt close to her and with your jacket around her shoulders as she went and did some small tasks all around her house. She couldn't quite wear it, the sleeves were too long for her, so she just tied the sleeves around her neck and went about her day. She was all alone so who cared if she looked a bit ridiculous.

From what Barbara told her, and she knew Barbara was only giving her the bare bones as far as the information went, you finished filming in Italy and went on a vacation with Hugh and his family. And despite everything Jenna almost felt bitter, thinking you moved on, that you decided to keep living your life with or without her in it, while she was here, having her world falling apart. If it turned out this between you couldn’t be fixed, then yeah, both of you had every right to move on. She just felt, in despair, that you did it way too quickly.

Her doorbell rang just as she finished washing the few dishes she used for her lunch, and she took your jacket off and hung it on the chair before going to her front door. Enrique said he would drop by, and this had to be him, and sure enough when she looked through the camera in front of her apartment building's front door she found him standing there. Jenna quickly opened the door and the front door of her apartment for him, and he came inside, meeting her in the hallway and she just hugged him soon as he was close enough.

“There, there, it's OK, you can cry,” he told her. By now he knew more or less what happened. He didn't know why you began fighting in the first place but he knew everything else. And while she could allow herself to cry in front of him Jenna honestly didn't have any tears left to shed, she spent so many nights crying herself to sleep that she was just tired of crying.

She let go of him and smiled a bit. “Let's just sit down. Do you want something to eat or drink? Anything?” Enrique just brushed her off, showing her he brought hot chocolate to go along, and Jenna was thankful for the a bit of thoughtfulness from someone who cared about her.

“Y/N’s jacket?” Enrique pointed at the jacket hanging from her chair as Jenna sat down.

She nodded. “I miss her,” she confessed softly. You weren’t talking and that was only making things worse right now. “But I don’t think my parents will ever accept her.”

Enrique leaned back in his chair. “Well, I'm here to fix that,” Enrique promised her, and somehow, she believed him. “So, how about you fill me in on the things I don't know,” he asked, and Jenna began. She told him everything she knew, that your parents were in an accident, were left in a coma and that you needed money. That you sold your apartment and that it still wasn't enough, so you went and got involved in a fight club. She told him all of that, and that it wasn't enough, that your parents couldn't be saved, and that you then, despite no longer having to fight, went and fought again, and Enrique just sat there listening taking it all in.

“You know, and this might just be me, but I think it's beautiful. You know, what she did,” his words took her by surprise, she had no idea how he could even come to that conclusion. You went and you hurt people, and you let others hurt you for money. How could that have been beautiful in any way? “Now, hear me out, I know how it sounds. But think about it. Y/N loved her parents so much that she didn't care what she had to endure to try and save them, she didn't get involved in that out of greed or a desire to hurt people, she went and fought because that was her only hope.”

Jenna just sat there, taking his words in. She hadn’t even thought about it that way, in her mind and in her entire family's opinion there was no excuse for what you did, there was nothing but violence in it, even if they understood the circumstances. Well, at least for the period while your parents were in a coma, and you were fighting for them.

“Just think about how much you would have to love someone to be sixteen and willingly go through so much pain, just for a slim chance that you could save that someone you love. Jenna, I've seen the way she looks at you, and you've seen it too. Your parents worry she would end up hurting you one day, but the way I see it there is a good chance she's the person you'll be safest with,” it felt like everything she thought she knew and everything she thought she felt was thrown on its head and changed in an instant. Like there was suddenly some kind of light shining through the clouds and making her see things differently.

“She went back, Enrique,” she fell back on repeating the arguments her parents kept making, afraid that if he convinced her, that she would only break. That she would ignore everything her parents wanted and do everything in her power to rebuild what the two of you had.

“Jenna, she was broken by grief. Y/N just lost her entire family, you said she fought for months to try and keep them alive, and she failed. So, she went and chose an unhealthy coping mechanism,” a lot like plenty of other people, and finally it all just made sense to Jenna, she understood what Enrique was trying to say. Yet it came too late, now it only made her feel worse that she didn't even consider these options, that she didn't even try to understand you and that she just pushed you away.

“I'm too late. I doubt she would ever want to see me again and I can't even blame her,” clearly not all of her tears were dried up, because here she was, crying once again. Enrique just pulled her into a hug, trying to console her and help her through this.

“You don't know that. Hey, we've both seen how she looks at you! I've spent just a couple of hours with her and even I can tell that girl unconditionally loves you!” and yet she went and risked it all over an impulsive reaction and her need to not go against her parents in that very moment.

The phone buzzed next to her, and her and Enrique saw it was from Barbara. “See what she sent,” Enrique encouraged her and Jenna unlocked her phone, and while making sure that Enrique could see it as well, she opened the message. Her eyes widened; Barbara had sent her a photo. It was you, in a place she couldn't recognize, drinking coffee it seemed, and just sitting by the fire with a small smile on your face, but what caught her eye wasn't your expression nor anything else about you, it was her ring clearly on display, hanging from the necklace around your neck.

“See, I told you,” Enrique patted her on the back and Jenna smiled as she spent who knows how long just silently staring at the picture. She stared, taking in the way the fire was reflected in your eyes, the smile on your face was honest, but there was a sense of sorrow in it, like you were constantly missing something. It wasn't the full smile you had when you were with her, and she studied every single detail about you, your hair, your clothes, the way light from the flames and shadows made your skin look, the way you held the coffee cup, firmly grasping it. She noticed the way you were slightly hunched forward, maybe leaning in to listen to whoever was talking to you, and she remembered how you leaned in to listen to her, you always leaned in closer than this. Your attention was always completely on her, and while you were paying attention to whoever you were talking to in this picture as well, she figured at least 10 to 15% of your attention was somewhere else.

And then she got another message from Barbara, and this time it was a video, perhaps taken only moments after the photo. You were silent, just listening and then it happened, you reached up and your thumb and finger brushed along her ring. You glanced down, the longing clear in your eyes, too lost in thoughts to notice you were being filmed.

“See, she loves you! She misses you, she wants you back in her life!” Enrique messed with her hair for a bit and the remark would have seemed like teasing to her a month ago, but now it was more than welcome.

“I still don't know what to do with my parents,” while she could probably convince her siblings that she would be fine, her parents were a whole other story.

“I'll handle them,” Enrique promised her and she trusted him, maybe he wouldn't be able to completely change their minds, but she believed that he would be able to at least make them willing to give the two of you a chance.

“Thanks,” Jenna said, not sure what else to say to show her gratitude. Then Barbara sent one last message for the day. ‘Just figured you should know that Y/N is trying her best. She’s trying to get better, and you are the biggest reason why she's doing that. As you can see by that ring that she refuses to take off unless she absolutely has to.’

And Jenna smiled, a sense of hope, from the conversation she had with Enrique, the video of you she got, and the message Barbara sent, filling her heart for the first time in roughly a month.

~X~

Even with all the energy you've been spending throughout the days, you still struggled to fall asleep, and you really shouldn't be, your days were packed. If it wasn't actually working and volunteering to help people out with Hugh, then it was sightseeing and long walks, and yet as tired as you were by the time you would say goodnight to Hugh and his family, that exhaustion would just vanish the moment you would lay down in your bed. You found yourself struggling to fall asleep each and every night.

You should have known long days of work or walking or some physically demanding activities wouldn't be enough to get you to easily fall asleep. After all, if there was one thing those fights gave you it was almost ridiculous stamina, and you had to admit you were hating that right now. Because no matter how tired or how calm you would be, you just couldn't fall asleep. You've tried meditating, you've tried doing a quick workout, you tried drinking chamomile tea, and yet none of that helped.

You knew exactly what was wrong, you glanced at your bedside table, at the ring Jenna gave you. You only took it off either when you were taking a shower or a bath, and when you were sleeping. You were afraid you could somehow grab the necklace and break it, and then lose the ring somewhere, so you would take it off. And it wasn't that you were missing the ring in particular, it was just that when you were on your own, your thoughts would just wander to the different places, and you had no control over them. You've been thinking about Jenna damn near constantly when you were alone.

Even when you were with other people you knew there was a sense of longing in everything you did, in every laugh, in every smile. You were there and you were happy. You really were doing better, but you just missed her. and you thought it would get better with time, but it didn't. It was just getting worse day by day. You turned in your bed once again for what felt like the hundredth time tonight alone, unable to quiet your mind.

The only thing you wanted was to just call her and see how she was doing, to just know that she was fine. Deep down you knew you left her at potentially the worst possible moment. You saw the desire to reach out to you, and to touch you in her eyes, back when you last saw her. You knew you were leaving her with the family that despised you right now, and you couldn't even begin to imagine just how hard it would be for her to go through all of that on her own. Living alone was in your mind one of the worst ways one could live, but constantly being surrounded by people who disapproved of something you cared about and put you through emotional pain while saying it was for your sake, was way worse than that.

And you despised yourself for leaving Jenna like that, because in the worst-case scenario she wanted to talk to you, but her family wouldn't agree with it no matter what she said. Yet you couldn't do anything about it, you hurt her, you betrayed her trust and you no longer had the right to reach out first. It had to be her, you couldn't force your way into her life, no matter how desperate you were to just know that she was fine.

And deep down maybe you were afraid of what you would do if she wasn’t fine.

And those thoughts plagued your mind. You constantly worried about how she was, how she slept, if she ate enough. Being alone made those thoughts a dozen time louder, and it was almost unbearable.

You glanced at your phone to check the time and tried to figure out what time it would be in Denver, eventually, you figured Barbara would be off work right now, so you went and called her, hoping her voice could calm down your nerves a bit. Besides, you missed your best friend, as much as this vacation helped you, you still wished she could have experienced some of this as well.

As you waited for her to pick up you promised yourself that when you finally come back and when you finished filming with Hugh that you would go and reconcile with her family.

“Babe?” of course she greeted you like that, that dumbass.

“Sure, sure, Babe,” you rolled your eyes. You found it somewhat funny how different things were the last time you called Barbara ‘babe’ back then Jenna heard it, and you had to explain yourself. Now it was much different, and those were just good old times before you went and fucked up.

“I can hear you rolling your eyes,” Barbara laughed, and you were going to take that, because she needed a laugh after helping you pull through those first couple of days after Jenna left. Barbara deserved every chance to laugh and if anyone were to hurt her you would raise hell until she was fine again, which was also part of the reason why you were adamant on sooner rather than later reconciling with her family.

It would also be very strange to suddenly, for example, appear at a celebration of something important happening in Barbara's life and surprise her parents by showing them you were still in Barbara's life. “Yeah, because eyerolls make sounds,” still, it was a bit strange, it sounded like Barbara had you on speaker. “How was your day?”

“Uh, just the usual, you know. Went to work and now I'm just lying around, bored. About to turn on the cheesiest love songs in history,” that was not good news, that meant only one thing, another heartbreak, well sort of, Barbara never took it too close to heart when something like this happened. Especially since she hasn’t really been serious with anyone over the past year.

“Which guy who asked you out ended up being in the closet now?” you would still humor her.

“James,” and that meant nothing to you. You didn't even know the guy existed; this was the first time you were hearing about him.

“How long ago was this again?” you asked, maybe you just forgot since your mind was damn near always on Jenna these days.

“A few months ago, you were filming Scream, meeting the love of your life while I was at the store, meeting James, who, as it turns out, only wanted a girlfriend so his mom would be happy,” she jokingly ranted. “Didn't even get to the first date point, so no harm done,” she may have been complaining, but you were well aware that Barbara didn’t care one bit about it. When someone right shows up he’ll show up, she used to say, and she still believed that. And she was still twenty, she mostly just dated to meet people and if it ended up becoming serious than so be it.

As for you, despite everything you still smiled at the love of your life comment, almost welcoming the teasing.

“I guess that will keep happening, minus finding the love of my life again, doubt that's happening, but you meeting guys while I’m somewhere filming,” considering you were serious about acting now that scenario was fairly plausible. How many things in Barbara and Hugh’s life would you miss with this job? How many times would you only be able to comfort Barbara over the phone? That was the sad reality of your work.

“About that, I think you won't need to find another one,” she said and you sat up abruptly, your heart beating rapidly in your chest at those words.

“What do you mean?” but she just laughed and for a moment you naively thought that she wasn't laughing at you, that maybe there was another reason she laughed. “Barbara, what do you mean?!”

“Oh, nothing, nothing! Don't worry about it! Oh, by the way, I need to go and get,” she paused as if she was thinking of an excuse. “A pizza, yeah, a pizza. I ordered a pizza and it's just about to arrive!” what the hell was going on over there?

“Barbara, you know I know when you are lying!” but she was already saying ‘bye!’ “You come back here and explain yourself, Barbara!” but she just hung up and you stared at your phone, baffled by what just happened. What did you miss?

~X~

Barbara was laughing her ass off and she just sank into the sofa. Your sofa by the way, because of course Barbara would take her to your apartment.

“See, you've got nothing to worry about. You're the love of her life,” Barbara told her with the almost infuriatingly wide grin on her face and Jenna just looked down, her face about as red as a tomato, and she couldn't stop the smile on her face.

For the first time since the end of last year she was actually at peace, and it was almost ironic that it was in your apartment. It was like deep down she could feel your presence around her, even if the apartment was fairly barren from anything personal in it. She could still feel like you were almost right there with her.

“She sounded,” she began, but she couldn't even find the correct word to describe what she noticed. But there was a change in your voice that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

“Like she was struggling, for the lack of a better word,” Barbara offered, and Jenna supposed that would be the most fitting description, though it wasn't quite the word she would use. It was more like you were on the precipice of finally reaching something that she couldn't define, yet she knew it would be important for you.

“I guess,” but she accepted the description Barbara offered.

Barbara gave her a small smile “So, you are going away for filming, right? That's why you wanted to talk.”

This time next week she would already be in New Zealand, about to start filming X, so that would mean she couldn't see you anytime soon. It was a harsh blow to know that she wouldn’t be able to see you for at least a month and a half from now. She didn't think she would be hearing your voice, and while it felt so good while it lasted, it just reopened that wound on her heart, caused by all the longing within her. She missed you so much, but she still wanted your first contact again to be face to face, and in a way she was afraid of your reaction; even if Barbara and Enrique have been telling her that it would be fine, that you still loved her.

“Well at least you’ll both be free after that and then you can figure out when and how to meet up,” that was a comforting thought, that after the filming was done for both of you, you would have the time and space and could actually talk things through. Maybe even find a way to get back to the way things were before because she desperately needed you back in her life.

“How should I approach it?” Jenna asked timidly.

Barbara put a finger on her chin, seemingly thinking about it. “Well, first of all you need to book an entire restaurant, and you have to arrange for a car to come and pick her up, and make sure there are flowers and cookies, and a good movie and some music. Y/N just adores heartbreaking love songs, they need to have soul crushingly depressing lyrics, by the way,” and then she burst out laughing because Jenna was seriously listening to her. “I'm messing with you, Jenna. Just show up. Just like you told me: ‘Hey, can we meet up, I want to talk,’ do the same thing with her. Or if you really don't want to send that message and you want the first thing you tell her to be face to face, then you tell me and I'll bring her somewhere so you can do that. That’s all Y/N wants, just you.”

And that comforted her a lot, that at the end of the day it didn't matter how she would show up, in front of you as long as she did come to talk. “Can we actually fix this?” Jenna asked because Barbara was the only one who knew you enough to give her that answer.

“12 hours,” Barbara said and then just completely stopped. Jenna just raised an eyebrow, not getting what that mean, so Barbara sighed and continued. “That's how long it'll take the two of you to end up in her bed naked, and very thankful the walls of this apartment are thick, not that you'll notice, because you'll be in the throes of passion. I'm telling you right now, that's gonna happen,” she said it with a completely blank face and somehow Jenna got even redder than before, unable to actually respond to that claim in any way.

~X~

With the vacation over, it was time to go back to work, and that meant going straight from Japan to New York to start filming The Daughter, and the first thing you did would perhaps make or break the rest of the process. Everything in the movie rested on the chemistry between you and Hugh, and the first scene had to start building that.

“Action!” you heard from behind the doors. You relaxed your posture, hung your head a bit and made it seem like you had the weight of the world on top of your shoulders, and you were just tired of it. And it wasn't difficult to get into that mental state. You opened the doors with an unscripted sigh, giving away how tired your character must be feeling as you tossed the bag onto the floor and just kicked your sneakers off, not even bothering to put them away properly. Your character was supposed to think she would come back home to an empty apartment, and you already made your way to your character's bedroom instead of at least glancing in the kitchen and the living room.

“Nicole!” you heard Laura's voice from the living room and froze momentarily, almost stumbling over your feet as you scrambled back to put your sneakers away properly and grab your bag. You let the panic in your eyes show well enough without overplaying it.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, and then took a deep breath as if pumping yourself up to put on a façade. “Hey mom, shouldn't you be at work?” you asked as you leaned into the living room, showcasing the distance between the characters with a wide shot of the living room, with just your head and fingers of your left hand visible, as well as the hint of your bag hanging from your shoulder.

“I came early,” Laura smiled at you, and the smile was perfect, the pain and uneasiness hidden behind the unconditional love of a parent, it was all there in that quick moment that she would be in the focus.

“You arrived,” you tightened your grip on to the doorframe and flinched as if you were about to fall, and then you looked back to see Hugh coming out of the bathroom. You looked back at the hall, where his shoes were and then just looked at him again, as if trying to make sure he was actually there. “Dad?” you said in disbelief, and Hugh looked like he was stuck between being happy to see you and unsure what to expect from you. You leaned away from the doorframe, guarder, tense as you studied him, just as unsure of what to expect as he was.

“Your mom told me you've been skipping school, and I figured we could talk,” he said, and your entire demeanor changed as you glared at him. “Nicole,” Hugh called your character's name, and you tighten your jaw, starting to open your mouth to speak several times, before just giving up and relaxing.

“Sure, come on in,” you said motioning toward your room, there was no bounce to your steps and just for a moment you met Laura's eyes, and she just looked away as if silently saying sorry to you. You just closed your eyes for a moment, briefly letting the pain show on your face while neither Hugh nor Laura could see. As you let Hugh into the room you went and tossed the bag on your bed, not caring when you slightly missed, and it fell to the floor. You didn’t even wince at the slight mess in the room.

Hugh turned on the lights and walked by you, then he just picked your bag up, placing it on the bed with care, while you slumped into your chair. “You should keep your room tidy, when I was your age everything had to be spotless,” Hugh said and picked up an empty bottle of juice your character left lying there at some point.

“You should remember you have a daughter a bit more often, and yet here we are,” you fired back and Hugh’s eyes immediately met yours, only for you to look away and mumble a ‘Sorry’ under your breath.

Hugh sat down on your bed, and you just leaned back, not even looking at him. “I know we haven't spent a lot of time together lately, and I've been thinking that maybe you would like to spend some time with me, meet your baby brother. We can catch up and see how it works out?” he suggested and you looked at him for a moment.

“What about school?” you asked, sure your character didn't go to school for the past month, but it was still the middle of the year.

“We'll figure something out, enroll you in another school. Have you start over,” Hugh said and you nodded not really caring either way.

“Cut!” the director yelled and you and Hugh visibly relaxed. “That's what I wanted! Great job you two! You as well Laura!” he approached you and Hugh. “Hugh, you were right, Y/N can pull this off!” Florian patted you and Hugh on the shoulders and called you over to go over the next scene because the approach he took was to talk to both of you, or the actors involved in the scene, through it and try to explain all the emotions involved in it, as well as let you give him any input you might have as well.

Overall, even though the subject of the movie would be rather heavy, you wouldn't want to do this with anyone else. And from the look in Hugh’s eyes, you figured he felt the same.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @freakshow2501 @osnapitzmel1 @belatrixdragon @ijustlovemaths

@niqmandu @justspance @mirage018 @godamnityess

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dianawinchester03 · 2 months ago

Text

Season 3, Episode 9 - Malleus Maleficarum

Series Masterlist

Author’s Note: Hi beauties!!! Okay beware, this is gonna be a long note that is just about me. You don’t need to read, this is just my way of connecting with you my besties❤️

So, random life updates. I’ve started going to the gym and this new diet. Now, at the back of my mind, I can hear Dean’s disappointment. “Damn princess, didn’t think you’d pull a Sammy on me with this rabbit food diet” IM SORRY BABE IM TRYNA LOSE WEIGHT CUZ IM A HEAVY FUCK😭😭😭not to mention, my scoliosis was killing me so the workouts have been helping.

Things haven’t been the best at home with my mom, mind you I’m a 21 year old grown ass woman and I still struggle with parental issues. How? IDFK💀😭 (sorry I always find humor in the weirdest fucking situations— that’s my Dean side showing lol) I still see myself as a kid and then I remember “HO, you is an ADULT” so I try to work around it.

My schedule was totally fucked, my sleep schedule was totally fucked and I wasn’t taking care of myself the way I should’ve been which is why I decided to put myself first for the first time in my life. I’ve been getting guilted for it but FUCK THAT😂😂😂

All in all, since then, my mental health has been getting better slowly but surely. Everything hurts physically, don’t get me wrong. I feel like I’ve been thrown into the air and tossed around like a goddamn rag doll BUT ya girl is turning into an almond mom and thriving XD (jkjk, god I miss cheeseburgers and cookies. And roti ugggghhh💔)

Besides the point, hope you guys like this one!!❤️

Warnings: smut, phone sex, masturbation (f&m) mentions of cunnlingus, mentions of sex, dirty talk, over stimulation.

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Third Person POV

Somewhere in the US

•Sometime in January 2008

The quartet was now back to a trio once more since Jo parted ways with them again to go off on her own hunt with her mother. This time, Y/N loaned Jo her bike so she was riding along with the Winchesters. Shocker, huh? Y/N fuckin’ L/N, lending someone her pride and joy???

Anyway, the three took on a hunt of their own, now in the middle of the living room to a house belonging to a recent victim who died very….strangely. Long story short, Janet Dutton’s (the victim) teeth fell out suddenly, one by one. Resulting in her untimely death. The death was not only strange but sudden.

Now, Dean was questioning Paul Dutton about his wife’s death while Sam and Y/N searched the bathroom for clues as to what happened. “She was so scared. I couldn't help, I couldn't do anything to stop it….” A grieving Paul explained to Dean as he took a deep breath. Glancing up toward the elder Winchester, who was taking notes on his little pad.

“And I've talked to the police, and I've talked to the medical examiner and no one can explain it.” Dean nodded as Paul spoke, “Well, that's why they put the call in to us Mr. Dutton.” Dean assured him as Y/N closed the door across from them, locking it so she and Sam could fully search it. “But the CDC, that's disease control, right? What do you think, it's some kind of virus?” Paul asked nervously.

“We're not ruling out anything yet. Mr. Dutton, did Janet have any enemies?” Dean asked Y/N gently rummaged through drawers and Sam searched the shelves. “I'm sorry?” Paul scoffed. “Anyone that might have a reason to hurt her?” Dean asked again, while in the bathroom, Y/N glanced over to Sam, shaking her head, indicating there was nothing there. “Wait, wh— what are you saying? That somebody poisoned her?” Paul got up from his position on the couch, his eyes filled with surprise. Dean shrugged in return.

In the bathroom, Sam sighed before his eyes landed on the sink. He placed his finger up before shuffling over to it. He crouched down to check it out, his jaw dropping when he noticed a hex bag stuffed between two pipes.

“I'm just saying we have to cover every base here.” Dean nodded, trying to hold up the stern and serious agent facade. “Well, I mean, what kind of poison? You think a person could have done this?” Paul asked bewildered.

Sam’s eyes quickly traveled back to the bag as Y/N appeared by his side, “What did you find?” She whispered, her voice soft. “Hex bag” Sam whispered back, reaching in to try to take it out from between the crease. He struggled to retrieve it, due to the small space. Y/N watched with an amused smile and tilted head and Sam fought to get the bag out.

Y/N snickered, cupping her palm over her mouth. “You okay there, little Winchester?” She teased, bending down to his level. Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Stop being a smartass and get it, dude” She snorted again, kneeling down and pushing Sam aside to get the hex bag out. “Ta-da” She mused, dangling it in his face. Sam shot her his classic bitchface, but there was no heat behind it before snatching it out of her hand.

The two got up and exited the bathroom as Dean asked Paul, “Would anyone want to?” But the man shook his head, “What?! No, no, there's just no one that could've—“ He exclaimed before trailing off, almost as if he was lost in thought. Dean raised a quizzical brow at Mr. Dutton, “Mr. Dutton?” He inquired, his notebook out and ready to jot something down. Paul snapped out of his daze, looking back at Dean.

“Uh, everyone loved Janet.” He assured him but even Paul didn’t seem so sure. Dean furrowed his brows before glancing over to his brother and girlfriend. The younger hunter and psychic nodded, indicating that they were done with their investigation. Dean looked back to Paul before nodding, “Okay. Thank you very much, I think we've got everything we need. We'll get out of your way now.”

The rain drizzled above them as they walked down the porch to the Dutton residence toward the Impala, “That dude seem a little evasive to you?” Dean asked them, pointing to the house behind them with his thumb. Sam and Y/N shrugged, “I don't know I was under a sink, pulling this out.” Sam answered as he took the hex bag out of his pocket and handed it to Dean. Y/N put up a finger, “Correction, I got it out. You were struggling like a dog with a cone on its head” She taunted.

This resulted in another eye roll from Sam and a chuckle from Dean, “Bite me,” Sam shot back, “No thanks,” Y/N winked back as Dean stopped in front on the Impala to open it up, “It’s a hexbag” Y/N told him as he gagged when looking at the contents, “Awww gross.” He groaned, covering his nose. “Yeah, there are bird bones, rabbit's teeth. This cloth is probably cut from something Janet Dutton owned.” Sam explained as he pointed to it.

“So we're thinking witch?” Dean suggested as he stuffed the hexbag into Y/N’s hands. “Uh, yeah, and not some new age wicked water douser either.” She nodded, wrapping the bag back up as she and Sam followed behind Dean. “This is Old World black magic, charming. I mean, warts and all.” She grimaced, shaking her head as they approached the Impala. Dean mimicked her expression, opening the back door for her, allowing her to climb in while Sam claimed shotgun.

Dean shut her door before peeling open the drivers side, plopping in next to his brother, “I fuckin’ hate witches” He pointed out with a look of disgust, Y/N’s brows furrowed when he said this while Sam chuckled awkwardly, glancing back over at his surrogate sister as Dean rambled on. “They're always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere.” He ranted, “Pretty much” Sam muttered, frowning slightly. “It's fuckin’ creepy, you know, it's down right unsanitary.” Dean grumbled, started the ignition.

“You do know that witches are related to psychics, right?” Y/N piped up, slightly glaring at her boyfriend. Her voice was soft but still stern, her displeasure with the comments obvious. Dean’s face turned pale at her words, “What?” Sam’s lips tucked into his mouth when he saw Dean’s face fall as though he had seen a ghost, trying to stop himself from laughing.

“They’re like our older jealous black sheep cousin. Our powers come from nature, meaning they’re natural. We can still practice witchcraft but that doesn’t classify us as witches since we don’t dabble in dark arts.” She explained as she peeled off her black blazer. Dean’s face morphed into a look of guilt while Sam’s face remained in ‘don’t laugh’ mode. “Yeah Dean,” The younger Winchester said, his eyes flickering between Y/N’s and Dean’s faces.

“She’s right.” Sam confirmed and Dean exhaled deeply, “I….I didn’t mean to insult you, sweetheart. I just don’t like witches.” Dean said sincerely. Y/N snorted, shaking her head. “Me neither, they’re nasty bitches. They give us a bad rep too,” She agreed, stretching out her limb. “They do give you a bad rep,” Dean muttered, “No one is scared of psychics. Everyone’s scared of witches.” He pointed out and Y/N nodded.

“I don’t understand it. I mean, we’re pretty much the same.” She shrugged, “We both hear and see a bunch of things you normal folks don’t, we’re both hunted….we both have powers” Dean raised a brow at her, “You normal folks?” He smirked. Y/N rolled her eyes, “You know what I mean smartass.” She muttered, a smile tugging at her lips as she reached over and swatted his arm before leaning back against the window.

“Either way, someone definitely had it out for Janet Dutton and it’s most likely a witch” Sam chimed in, Dean nodded in agreement. “Yeah, someone who snuck into that house and planted the bag.” Dean sighed, “So what are we thinking, we're uh, looking for some old craggy Blair bitch in the woods.” He asked as he turned on the heat in Baby, gathering up some heat between his hands from the vents.

“No it could be anyone. Neighbor, coworker, man, woman, that's the problem, Dean, they're human, they're like everyone else.” Y/N explained. “Great. How do we find 'em?” Dean grumbled, “This wasn't random, someone in Janet Dutton's life had an ugly axe to grind. We find the motive—” Sam began, “—We find the murderer.” Dean finished his sentence in, causing Y/N to flinch.

“I swear, the way y’all talk at the same time and finish each other sentences, it’s fuckin’ creepier than witches, man” She muttered. “Shut up” Sam and Dean said in unison as Y/N gagged. The two brothers eyed each other and she shook her head in disbelief. “You just did it again you morons,” Y/N groaned and Sam snickered while Dean flashed her a wink before peeling out of the Dutton’s driveway.

Later that night, they decided to stake out and follow Paul Dutton after agreeing with Dean that he was a bit evasive. They ended up following him to a diner and into an empty dead street. Paul parked his car at the head of the street so they kept it safe and parked a few cars down. Dean and Y/N were growing bored, now playing rock, paper, scissors while Sam lounged in the backseat.

“I want to stab myself” Dean groaned when he lost again. Y/N chuckled in victory as Sam let out a breathy laugh, “Oh poor baby,” Y/N teased, as she pinched her boyfriend’s cheek, making Dean roll his eyes. “This is the worst stakeout ever, absolutely boring. He’s literally just sitting there.” Dean complained.

“Hey, you said somethin’ was up with the dude.” Y/N pointed out, as she took out her pack of cigarettes and lighter from her jacket, offering Dean one. “Don’t remind me” Dean grumbled as he pulled out a cigarette from the pack and Y/N flicked her lighter, directing the naked flame to the end of the stick. “And he’s been there for hours,” He complained as the steam rolled out between his lips.

Y/N cupped her hand over the flame to light her own cigarette. “Maybe he’s just waiting for someone?” Y/N suggested, taking a huff from her cigarette and letting the smoke trail from her parted lips before turning her body so she can lean her head backwards onto his chest. He inhaled from the cigarette, resting his chin on the top of her head before shrugging his shoulders,

“Maybe, but it’s still weird. Who just sits in an empty parking lot on a Thursday night?” Dean questioned, his hand now stroking her hair. “Serial killers.” Sam piped up from the back, his hand resting over his face as he layed across the backseat. One of his knees propped up, Y/N snorted in amusement as Dean chuckled. “You two and you’re goddamn serial killer obsession, I swear” Dean muttered.

“He’s not wrong” Y/N agreed, taking the cigarette out her mouth and holding it in between her fingers, “There’s probably a dozen dead bodies in the trunk as we speak” She teased and Dean rolled his eyes, “Can you two shut your pieholes, and enjoy the silence without speculating?” Dean scolded, his hand swatting at her boob lightly before tucking it into the top of her shirt for comfort, wiggling his fingers between the creases of her bra.

“Jesus Christ, Dean!” Y/N exclaimed, smacking his hand away as he grinned, “What? I’m just trying to stay warm” He shot back, tucking his hand into her boob again. Thankfully, Sam didn’t see since he was texting Jo because he probably would’ve berated them for being ‘indecent in his presence’.

Y/N let out a breathy scoff, “If you want to stay warm than turn on the heat” She protested, her cheeks tinged slightly pink as he smirked. “Why would I waste Baby’s precious heat when I can just stick my hands up your shirt?” He asked with a cheeky tone and Y/N rolled her eyes, taking another huff of her cigarette before flicking the end out the window. “What a caveman” She grumbled.

Sam paused in his text, grimacing in disgust before rolling his eyes to type, ‘Angel, I love you but can you please hurry your fine ass up and get here before Dean and Y/N lick each other’ to his girlfriend.

“You know you like it” Dean teased and Y/N scoffed, “Yeah, your sweaty hands are so comfy, I love it” She mocked in a deadpan tone and Dean stuck out his bottom lip in a little pout.

Sam’s phone buzzed in his hands, ‘I doubt they’re that bad’ Jo responded, he scoffed typing away once more.

‘Oh God, don’t get me started. I’m literally three minutes away from having to gouge my eyes out and plug my ears with cotton’ He complained.

Meanwhile, Dean chuckled, burying his nose into her hair to inhale that intoxicating coconut shampoo of hers, the tobacco added to it gave him a sense of relief. Eventually, she complied and the two made conversation while Sam complained to Jo in the back.

Suddenly, Y/N noticed Paul Dutton’s car began jerking forward. Almost as if he was struggling. “Dean!” She quickly slapped Dean out of her hair, his head snapping in the direction of Paul's car. Sam rose from his seat in a whip as Dean and Y/N tossed their cigarettes out of the window and Dean started Baby’s ignition. Paul tossed himself out of his car and onto the pavement as Dean hit the gas and drove over towards him.

The brothers and Y/N quickly exited the Impala and jogged over towards Paul, who was hunched over choking on the ground. “Check the car!” Dean urgently instructed Sam, who did so immediately while he and Y/N knelt beside Paul.

His face grew red as he choked on the maggots, “Sammy!!” Y/N shouted as she frantically pounded Paul’s back. “Got it!” Sam yelled back, pulling the hex bag out of the steering column. Dean and Y/N hauled Paul to his feet, leaning him against the car as Sam lit the hex bag aflame, glowing green and blue before tossing it on the ground away from them.

Paul’s eyes widened as his throat opened back up, greedily gasping and inhaling the oxygen into his lungs. His chest heaved as he spat out the maggots from his mouth. Y/N grimaced, averting her gaze and instead watching Paul with a concerned expression. She didn’t like maggots, never has and never will. “You okay?” Dean asked, holding the man up while he panted for air.

“What the hell is happening to me?!” Paul panicked, “Someone murdered your wife and now they're trying to kill you, that's what's happening to you.” Y/N stated, matter of factly. “That's impossible! There's no way—” Paul denied as she scoffed, rolling her eyes. Dean was quick to cut him off, “Well, if we hadn't have been following you, you'd be a doornail right now. Now who wants you dead?” He demanded.

“I-uh…” Paul stuttered, “C’mon, think!” Y/N urged him, “There's a woman—uh—” Paul tried to think, “Okay, a woman? Okay.” Dean also urged him to continue as Paul’s face flushed with embarrassment. “An affair—a mistake, she was un-balanced, she was blackmailing me and I put an end to it a week ago.” He admitted. Y/N blinked rapidly, her eyes going from Paul to Dean as he described his infidelity.

“What’s her name?” Sam asked pressingly, “Wha–What could she have to do with—?” Paul stammered again and Y/N was growing tired. “Enough!” Y/N snapped, holding her hand up in a stop signal and Paul snapped his mouth shut, “Look, Jude Law. We don’t give a shit if you’re screwing the nanny. What we need to do is stop a goddamn witch. Now give us your girlfriend’s name or so god help me—“

“Fine, fine...uh–” Paul quickly relented, “Her name is Amanda Burns” With a huff, Y/N nodded, “Thank you.” He nodded in response before pulling out a pen and paper from his pocket to write down Amanda’s address. They then guided him back over to his car. “You gonna be alright?” Y/N questioned as he leaned against the door.

He nodded, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine. Thank you” He assured her, Dean patted his back in farewell and they returned to Baby to head to Amanda’s home.

Not too long after, Y/N was on her knees picking the lock to Amanda’s house while Sam and Dean stood guard behind her. With a slight click, the tumblers of the lock finally gave away and she smirked in satisfaction. She pushed the door open and the three snuck inside slowly, making sure to keep their guns drawn in front of them.

Sam closed the door behind him as Dean and Y/N walked forward towards the living room. They entered the room, only to find Amanda lifeless on a glass coffee table covered in blood which was still pouring out of her wrists. Dean flicked the light on as the flames burnt in her candles, so it seemed as though she just died. “That's a curveball.” Dean commented as Sam and Y/N nodded their heads with furrowed brows.

“Yeah.” Sam muttered with a slight frown as Y/N muttered, “You’re telling me, man” They all slowly approached Amanda’s corpse as Dean gently used the barrel of his gun to lift her right arm before doing the same to her other arm. “Three per wrist, vertical. She wasn’t foolin' around.” Dean pointed out as Y/N’s eyes landed on the rotting rotisserie chicken on the floor, maggots coating its carcass.

“Yeah, looks like she was working some heavyweight evil here.” Sam confirmed as he put his gun in the back of his jeans and bent down to look at the scattered remnant of what seemed like an altar holding his nose to the smell of the burnt rotten food. “No shit, Sherlock” Y/N huffed, doing the same. Sam shot his sister his classic bitchface as a shiver ran down her spine as a fly buzz echoed in her ear, the sound reverberating in her ears.

“God, I hate those things.” She huffed, swatting it away from her face before standing back up. Dean nodded in agreement as well, “The smell isn’t much better up here.” He mumbled as the smell of decaying hit his nostrils. Y/N glanced around the room, noticing some odd items that weren’t quite right. Dean spun around, then jumped back, startled since he nearly walked into a rabbit, hanging from the ceiling, dead. “Oh god!”

Y/N cupped a hand over her mouth, her eyes darting over to Sam. The duo shared an amused gaze, Sam pushing himself to his feet as Dean ran a hand over his face to mask his fear. “Fuckin’ witches! Seriously man, come on!” He exclaimed, turning back to the duo. Their faces quickly dropped, trying to mask their amusement. “Guess we know where she got the rabbit's teeth from.” Sam reverted back to the subject in hand.

“Well, Paul sure knows how to pick 'em huh? It's like Fatal Attraction all over again.” Y/N scoffed, shifting her weight onto her other foot as she shoved both her hands in her back pockets. “Yeah.” Sam sighed, “And why does the rabbit always get screwed in the deal?!” Dean grumbled, turning back to the rabbit. He frowned, glancing down at the bowl of its blood, which was leaking from its mouth. “Poor little guy”

“You know what I don't get, guys? If she was so bent on revenge, why do this?” Sam pointed out, “Well, she got Janet Dutton, thought she finished off Paul, decided to cap herself and make it a spurned lover's hat-trick.” Dean suggested with a shrug. Sam and Y/N didn’t look too convinced however, “Maybe” Sam sighed as Y/N crouched back down, shielding her nose to get a better look at the occult pages on the floor beneath the table Amanda’s corpse laid.

“I mean, this doesn't exactly look like the TV room of a bright and stable person, you know?” Dean commented as he pocketed his gun into his inner jacket, “No, but then…” Y/N began as she reached around and pulled out another hex bag that was tucked under the table in a crease. “There’s this,” She stated as she stood up, handing it to Sam. He looked stunned before he tossed it to Dean, who caught it with ease.

“Another hexbag? Come on” Dean grumbled in distaste as he untied it and peeled it open to find similar contents of the bag they found in Janet’s bathroom. He grimaced in disgust before pelting it on the table. “Looks like we got a hit, huh? A little witch-on-witch violence?” He said as he reached for his phone in his pocket, flipping it open. “I guess.” Sam and Y/N sighed in unison while Dean dialed 9-1-1 and held his phone to his ear.

“I'd like to report a dead body, 309 Mayfair Circle.” He told the operator, pacing over to his girlfriend, “My name? Yeah, sure my name is—” He snapped his phone shut comedically with a bored expression as Y/N snickered slightly in amusement before reverting back to a serious expression. “Why are witches ganking each other?” She muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don't know, but I think maybe we got a coven on our hands.” Sam responded, “Well that’s just great ain’t it” Dean muttered sarcastically as he and Y/N ran their hands over their faces in frustration.

____________________________________________

Dean laid back against the headrest behind him tiredly as he sipped a glass of whiskey, glancing over at his girlfriend who sat at the small table with his laptop in front of her. “Sweetheart, we already got the names of Amanda’s friends. We’ll check ‘em out in the morning.” Dean’s voice snapped her out of her deep train of thought. “Come to bed” He urged her, patting the empty space on the bed beside them.

Y/N looked over at him for a moment before sighing and shutting the laptop. She got up from the chair with her laptop in hand and placed it on the nightstand before getting off the chair. She crawled over the bed, snuggling closer into his warm shirtless body. “Maybe I’m paranoid” She mumbled, burying her face into the crook of his neck.

Dean’s glass paused halfway to his mouth, “You’re always paranoid,” He commented with a snort, downing the rest of the brown liquid before stretching to place the empty glass next to her laptop on the nightstand. She rolled her eyes, smacking his arm playfully while he chuckled. “Shut up” She grumbled before placing her chin on his chest to peer up at him.

“I just got a bad feeling, that’s all” She sighed as her fingers trailed along the little pudge on Dean’s stomach. “If you say I ‘always get feelings’ so god help me, I’m making you sleep on the ground” She threatened with narrowed eyes but they held no heat behind them. He laughed softly, his fingers trailing through her damp hair, “No you won’t, cause you’ll miss this” He teased, giving her a cheeky grin.

His hand trailed down her body, which held his flannel over it. “Or this” He added, giving her a squeeze ass, erupting a small squeal from her lips. “Or this” He concluded, planting a kiss on her forehead. She fought the growing smirk on her face, “Yeah yeah, I’d never survive without you” She teased before playfully shoving at his chest.

He gasped dramatically, “Hey, I’m being sweet right now” He muttered, squeezing her frame in his arms. She snickered softly, “Oh, so that squeeze to my ass was you being sweet hm?” She inquired with a raised brow. He shrugged, “It was a gesture of courtesy” He responded simply.

“Such a gentleman” She mumbled sarcastically, shifting her head back down onto his chest. He let out a satisfied sigh, “Damn straight” He proclaimed proudly before placing another kiss on top of her head.

“Don’t ever let that ego get too big, Winchester”

“Too late, L/N”

“You’re ridiculous,” She scoffed, lifting her head, “But you love me.” Dean replied as a matter of factly and Y/N nodded in agreement. “Unfortunately, I do.” She responded with another scoff and he laughed once more, “Oh shut up, you know you’d be lost without me.”

Y/N’s face fell, her heart thundered in her chest when she was unconsciously reminded of his deal. “Yeah…yeah I would be” She admitted, her tone a bit croaky, her big (e/c) eyes now filled with sorrow. A sad feeling bubbled up in his chest as he saw her eyes go sad, his hand trailing up and down her back in a soothing manner. “Hey, hey...” Dean cooed gently.

“Baby I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that” He apologized, now realizing why she got all glum. She shook her head, “No, no it’s okay” She reassured him, trying to mask her feelings, not wanting him to feel guilty. She placed a kiss on the bare patch of skin on his chest.

Y/N trailed her lips up and chest slowly, peppering kisses from the base of his anti possession sigil tattoo. All the way to that sweet spot behind his ear, in an aid to diffuse and turn the situation. She refused to give up hope, no matter how hopeless it may be. She wasn’t gonna give up on her man just like that, not ever.

He tilted his head to the side, allowing her more access to his neck as he hummed in appreciation. The feeling of her lips on his skin was like heaven, a sweet drug that he craved endlessly. It was the only true heaven he knew and probably the only one he will ever know.

Author’s Note: HI so remember those warnings? Yeah they weren’t for Dean and Y/N💀 sooooo ENJOY! If you don’t wanna read the Sam x Jo smut, you could always skip it🫶

Meanwhile, in Sam’s motel room. “Yeah, we’re thinkin’ it's a coven. Gonna check out the dead witch’s friends in the morning” He said to Jo into his phone, leaning back on the wooden bed frame. One arm lazily resided as the back of his head, propping it up while the other held the phone against his ear.

“A witch coven, huh? Well that’s not good” Jo’s voice echoed into the phone, sounding rather concerned. He sighed before rubbing his free hand over his face. “Yeah, it’s a blast” Sam joked, running a hand over his light stubble. “Just be careful, okay?” She warned him, her voice suddenly going soft.

He scoffed playfully, “Angel, I can look after myself” He reassured her, a shy smile tugging at his lips. He could hear her scoff on the other line, “Yeah, I know. I’m just worried is all,” She confessed with a sigh. A sympathetic frowned formed on his face, her worrying for him always made his heart twist. “Hey, I’ll be fine” He promised her softly, “I’m with Dean and Y/N, I can’t possibly get hurt.”

Sam’s reassurance didn’t ease her nerves entirely, but she still smiled faintly. The thought of him being hurt still lingered in the back of her mind as an annoying itch. “Don't pull your puppy dog eyes on me, Winchester. I can just picture it right now” She muttered into the phone and Sam chuckled, his nose crinkling at her words.

“Oh, is that a threat?” He asked with a smirk, shifting his position on the bed. “Maybe it is” Jo shot back before a playful smile took hold of her lips. “Yeah? What are you gonna do to me, Ms. Harvelle?” He questioned slyly, pulling himself down onto the bed to lean back against his pillows. Jo’s smirk turned into a full-blown grin at the sound of his flirtation, her free hand playing with the hem of her shirt.

“You wanna know the answer to that, Mr. Winchester?” She inquired, her tone becoming more sultry. His breath got caught in his throat, his body growing hot as he felt his cock shift in his pants. “Yeah, I’d love to know” He responded, his voice low and raspy.

Jo’s breath quickened, her eyes closing for a moment as she imagined what he looked at currently. He was probably sprawled out on his back, his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of skin and his hand shoved into his jeans. “First, I’d run my hands through your hair…” She began breathlessly, biting her lip, her thighs clenching together.

“Yeah?” He inquired, his brain now filling with dirty visions that involved her and him. “Then what?” He prompted curiously, his hand now placed on his stomach, itching to move it lower. “I’d kiss you slowly, starting with your neck” She replied huskily, “and trace my way up to your lips.” Her fingers began playing with one of the buttons of her shirt mindlessly as she spoke.

Sam let out a quiet groan as his eyes fluttered closed, imagining those sweet lips of hers on him. “I like the sound of that” He murmured, his fingers now tracing slow circles on his hip bones. “I know you do” She responded cockily, licking her lips as she toyed with the buttons of the flannel she stole from him. “And then what?” He inquired once again.

”Then I’d unbutton your shirt, one by one” Sam’s hand drifted lower, now toying with the button on his jeans. “And start trailing kisses down your chest” Finally, Sam freed himself. His cock springing free from the confides of his jeans and boxers. He was quick to wrap a firm hand around his cock. “Shit” He whimpered through gritted teeth, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“What’s the matter, you getting all hot and bothered, Sammy?” Jo giggled as she stuffed her hand up her shirt, toying and tweaking with a perky nipple of her. “Yeah, I am. Can you fuckin’ blame me?” Sam responded in a slightly whiny tone. The sound of Sam’s whines made her let out an unintentional moan. She brought her hand to her mouth to stifle it, not wanting him to know she was touching herself.

The small sound didn't go unnoticed, leaving Sam's eyes going wide. “Did you just...moan?” He inquired curiously, his voice filled with disbelief. A smirk found its way on his lips as he realized she was doing exactly what he was. “I— wha—” Jo stammered.

“What’s the matter, you getting all hot and bothered, angel?” He cut her off, his voice deep and gravelly while he thrusted into his hand, throwing her words back into her face. “S-shut up, Winchester” She protested, her cheeks tinged red in embarrassment, “I’m not, I’m—” He cuts her off once more, his hand quickening its pace.

“Yeah you are.” He grunted, “I swear to god I can hear it from here.” He teased, his hand moving slower as he chuckled breathlessly. “C’mon, it’s nothin’ to be ashamed of. It’s just me and you here..” He urged her, biting his lower lip. Jo didn’t need to be told twice. In a flash, her jeans were off and the tips of her fingers were coated with her very own slick as she rubbed furiously at her clit to the sounds of Sam’s desperate whimpers and dirty words.

“I swear” He groaned, his breaths becoming ragged as he quickened the pace of his hand. “I can hear how wet you are right now….” He whispered, his voice strained from the immense need for release. “S-Sam. Please…” Jo pleaded, her eyes screwed shut, her hair sprawled out across her pillow as her lips formed an “O” shape. Trying to hold back her impending orgasm, only willing to allow herself to cum at his command.

“Oh, listen to you...” He breathed, “such a desperate little thing.” He teased, his hand matching her pace, “bet you wished you were stuffed with this big fat—” he paused, his brain clouding for a second as he let out an involuntary moan as his hand sped up “—cock”

Sam’s words instantly made Jo’s walls clench around her own fingers. “Oh god, Sam” She whimpered, “I do...I do...” She confessed desperately, her heart hammering wildly in her chest, almost like it was going to burst. “Please, god, I need you.” She pleaded, her own words coming out breathy and desperate. “I bet you wish I was there, right? Wish I was pounding into that pretty little pussy”

Sam’s thumb swiped across the tip of his cock, collecting the precum leaking down to add to the extra stimulation. He brought his hand up to his mouth to collect a glob of spit before bringing it down back to his rosy tip. He groaned at the feeling, stroking his dick up and down at a quick pace and imagining it was her hand instead.

“God, I wish I was there too. I’d shove those pretty little thighs of yours open wide and lick you up, nice and slow” He let out another, “Just the way you like it.” He said huskily, letting his tongue glide across his lower lip. “Fuuuuuck” The words made Jo’s head swim, her teeth gritting in response. There was something about dirty talk that she loved so much. It made her squirm and shiver in the most pleasant ways possible.

Her imagination went wild with the thought of him on top of her, his head in between her thighs, his long tongue running over her folds. “I’m close, I’m close” She warned him, feeling fluids fully soak her fingers. Her grip on her phone tightening near her ear. “Hold off.” He growled into the phone, his voice leaving no room for questions.

“You can’t cum til I say so.” His tone was firm, leaving her whimpering at the sound of it alone. “Yes, sir” She gasped out, knowing better than to argue, especially when she was at his mercy. His grip on the base of his cock tightened as her desperate words echoed through his ears, his own climax quickly approaching, unable to hold back any longer.

“That's my good girl" he cooed, feeling his release nearing. "Now tell me what you’re doing” He ordered. “I’m lying down on my bed, my legs are spread wide open.” She replied, her breath coming out in pants. “I’m on my back.” He groaned into the receiver, the mental image of her on her back making his cock twitch. “Yeah? You all spread out for me?”

“Mhm” She nodded frantically, “I’m so soaked for you, wishing it was you playing with me instead” she whined. “Me too baby, you have no idea how much I wish I could be there with you.” He panted, his hand moving at a steady rhythm. “Keep going.” He instructed with a hint of firmness.

“I feel so empty without you in me. I wish you were here, god you would be so deep inside of me right now. I’m t-trying so hard to hold back.” She whimpered out, her head thrown back “Please, please let me cum” Jo pleaded, the desperation clear. “You know the rules. You’re not gonna cum til I say so.” He growled out, a smirk forming on his lips when she whined out in frustration. “Who’s gonna make you cum?”

“You, only you” She gasped out, her body squirming in need. Sam chuckled deeply, a cocky smile on his face. "That’s it, there it is…." Then, he felt that familiar tightness in the pit of his stomach. “Fuck, Jo!” His pace quickened, pumping at his cock furiously, chasing his own release.

She could hear his heavy panting and the sound of skin slapping skin on the other end, making her whimper even more. “I need you, Sam…please” She pleaded, the need for release almost overwhelming her. “Cum.” That singular word from Sam made Jo snap, the dam bursting in an instant as her pussy clenched around nothing.

She mewled and screamed his name relentlessly, damn near soaking her sheets with how worked up he had her. The sound of her release made Sam follow suit, his climax hitting him like a tidal wave as she continued to plead for him. Jets of his release practically spit out of his tip and dripped onto his hand and shirt as his hand slowed, trying to prolong the sensation as best he could.

The beads of his semen leaking down. "Damnit..." he cursed, his breaths ragged from the intensity of his orgasm. “God…I swear, you’ve got too much power” Jo muttered over the phone to him, her breaths shaky as she tried to regain normal respiration. Sam chuckled weakly in response, patting around his bed for the towel he had discarded from his shower earlier.

Once he found it, he picked it up then slowly sat up in his bed, his shirt clinging to his glistening chest. “Yeah, you love it though.” He teased, starting to wipe himself clean. “Are you okay, angel? I wasn’t too mean, was I?” He asked sincerely, a stark contrast to how he was just a minute ago.

“Oh hush, you know I like it when you’re rough and commanding” She reassured him, sitting up and taking one of her pillows and hugging it to her chest. He hummed in response, tossing the towel on the nightstand before laying back down on his pillows. “Don’t I know it”

____________________________________________

The next morning, Elizabeth, one of Amanda’s friends, was turning the soil of her front garden with a small trowel. Sam, Dean and Y/N walk up her driveway to question her, all decked out in their FBI suits. “You must have a green thumb.” Sam commented. Elizabeth’s head snapped up towards them from her spot where she stooped, “Excuse me?”

“Getting these herbs to grow out of season like this, quite impressive.” Y/N added as she pointed to the familiar herbs she worked with when it came to concocting her healing balms and other ‘psychic’ treatments. Usually she worked with them dried and grounded but they were easy to recognize in their natural form. Elizabeth looked at her stunned, her eyes glancing back down to her garden.

“I'm sorry, I have introduced myself first.” The psychic apologized before reaching into her jacket simultaneously with the boys to retrieve their badges, “I'm uh, Detective Bachman, this is Detective Turner and Thornton” Sam introduced himself, then Dean and Y/N, offering the alarmed brunette woman a kind smile as she pushed herself up from the ground. Dusting off her gardening gloves.

“Hi-ya” Dean greeted with a sweet smile as he and Y/N stuffed their badges back into their inner jacket pockets. “We're following up on Amanda Burns' death, going around the neighborhood and talking to neighbors and stuff like that.” Y/N explained, “But didn't she— I mean she killed herself right?” Elizabeth stammered with panicked filled eyes. “Maybe, maybe.” Sam nodded.

“We heard you were friends with the deceased, is that right?” Dean asked professionally, “Yeah, I guess so.” Elizabeth breathed out, nodding shakily. “Did you have any idea about her practices?” Y/N asked with a raised brow as she stuffed her hands into her dress pants pockets. “I'm sorry, what kind of practices?” Elizabeth blinked rapidly, “Well see, her house was littered with Satanic paraphernalia.” Sam informed her, taking note of her shaky behavior.

“A regular Black Sabbath.” Dean commented but Elizabeth shook her head, “No, the— but she was an Episcopalian.” She stammered again, “Well, then we're pretty sure she was using the wrong Bible.” Dean snorted, earning side eyes from Sam and Y/N, along with a smack to the arm by his girlfriend. Dean clutched his arm and gritted his teeth at her, grumbling under his breath while two women approached them.

“Elizabeth, you all right?” Renee, a blonde woman with mid-back length hair and bangs called out to her friend with a brown skinned woman next to her, rocking a Bob and bangs. The second Y/N laid eyes on her, she got that familiar feeling in the back of her neck. The burning rose rapidly as the two women approached them. That could’ve only meant one thing. Demon.

She hissed lightly as she cupped the back of her neck, earning a concerned look from her boyfriend. She nodded lightly, indicating she was fine. Dean's narrow eyes flickered from her and back to the women as Elizabeth responded with, “I'm fine uh Renee, these are detectives. They say Amanda was— she was practicing—” She didn’t get to finish since Renee cut her off, placing a hand on her shoulder as she and her other friend, Tammi, stood beside her.

“I'm sorry detectives; you can tell that Elizabeth is a little bit upset.” Renee interrupted in a snooty tone. “Of course, Miss ... ?” Dean said, “Missus. Renee. Van Allen.” The snooty blonde woman said slowly and emphatically, like it's significant and she's important. “Would you like me to spell it for you?” She sassed. Dean chuckled dryly, glancing over to Y/N, who already had her eyes narrowed at the woman, “No, I'll get by, thanks.” Y/N replied in an equally sassy tone.

While Sam and Dean held a smirk to themselves to hide their amusement. Renee scowled at her before returning to a faux remorseful gaze, “This Amanda business has been hard for Liz. For all of us.” She sighed, “Yeah. I mean, you think you know a person.” Tammi sighed. Y/N’s eyes snapped over to her, squinting lightly in suspicion. “Well, I guess we all have secrets don't we?” Dean replied with an equally suspicious gaze.

The women nodded with smirks, minus Elizabeth, who looked shaken. “Well, thanks, um, we'll be in touch.” Sam greeted politely as they began walking away, “Have a nice day.” Dean waved, guiding Y/N away by gripping her wrist. “Bye” Tammi said eerily, the psychic glancing over her shoulder at her. “Missus. Renee. Van. Allen” Y/N mocked the woman’s tone once they were out of earshot.

“I swear to god those chicks are like some ‘Real Housewives’ rejects, dude.” Dean complained as the three got back into the Impala. “They were pretty bitchy, that's for sure.” Y/N agreed, buckling her seatbelt while Sam looked at them with amusement, stretching his arms back out.

Later that night, Dean was driving down a country road through fog while Sam sat in the passenger's seat looking over the friend group’s recent activities and Y/N lounged in the back smoking a cigarette, all discussing the case. “Well, I'm already sold on that Elizabeth chick. Did you see that victory garden of hers? Belladonna, wolfsbane, mandrake, not to mention that little flinch she threw when we mentioned the occult.” Dean scoffed.

“Hey, you work with those herbs, right?” He asked Y/N, looking over his shoulder. Y/N nodded as she exhaled a drag of her cigarette. “Yep, not in the way she does though. I use them in my balms, ointments, tonics and all that good stuff.” She responded, taking another puff from her cigarette. Dean nodded “And those herbs she had aren't exactly the friendly sort, are they?” He inquired with a quirked brow.

“Not at all” She shook her head in confirmation with a little snort. “Well, she's definitely had a good run lately, gone up a few tax brackets, won almost too many raffles. Kinda thing a little black magic always helps with.” Sam piped up from the passenger seat, scrolling through a news article in his lap, shining a flashlight over it. “Yeah.” Dean muttered with a nod.

“I don't think she's alone either. Looks like 'MRS. Renee Van Allen' has won almost every craft contest she has entered in the past three months.” Sam added, also mocking the blonde’s snooty words as he explained, “Yeah, a regular Martha Stewart, huh? Except for the devil worship, I'm thinking that was the coven we met back there, minus one member.” Dean agreed.

“Amanda was clearly going off the reservation. What do you think, they killed her to keep up appearances?” Sam asked, “Seems like an appearance kind of crowd, don't you think?” Y/N commented with a roll of her eyes as she flicked her cigarette out the window. “Yeah.” Sam agreed with a sign, “If they killed the nut-job, should we uh, thank them or what?” Dean asked as he tilted his head, “They're working black magic too, Dean. They need to be stopped.” Sam said firmly as Y/N nodded in agreement.

Dean blinked at them surprised, “Not to mention, one of ‘em is a demon. I sensed the bitch the second she appeared, didn’t even bother to conceal herself” Y/N pointed out. Sam and Dean both turned around to look at her curiously. “When were you gonna say something?” Dean inquired, looking slightly offended.

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, “Slipped my mind.” She responded, a sly smirk tugging at her lips. Dean rolled his eyes before looking back at the road, “Whatever. When you say ‘stopped', you mean like stopped?” He asked them wearily, his eyes flickering over to them for a split second, only to see them giving him looks in Winchesterian that said, ‘Duh Becky’

Dean was a tad bit surprised at their brutality, “They’re human, guys” He defended, “They’re murderers” Sam and Y/N shot back in unison with deadpan looks. Dean blinked but agreed nonetheless as he shrugged, “Burn, witch, burn” as he continued to drive. “So, about that demon. You think they’re getting their power from them?” Dean asked but Y/N didn’t get to respond.

The Impala suddenly started to stutter and choke up, the engine rattling, “What the fuck—” Dean muttered in shock, looking around frantically as Sam and Y/N’s brows furrowed. Baby’s headlights flicker on and then back on again on the outside as she slowly came to a stop in front of a familiar figure standing in the middle of the road with her arms crossed.

Sam and Y/N recognized the woman to be Ruby, sharing a panicked look. The two immediately hopped out of the car first with Dean following to suit, “Ruby.” Sam gasped, “Demon bitch” Y/N gritted her teeth at her as Dean narrowed his gaze at the blonde, instinctively shielding Y/N with his left arm. Ruby didn’t bother to quip back at Y/N, looking more panicked than anything else. “Sam, listen to me, there’s no time—”

“For what, what're you talking about?” Sam asked concerned, “You have to get out of town” Ruby stated urgently. “Hiya, Ruby.” Dean glared at her before fishing the Colt out from his pocket and aiming it at her, “Long time no see,” He growled, cocking the gun, “Dean!” Sam chastised him, but Dean ignored him, “I was hoping you’d show up again”

Ruby however, seemed unphased. “Point that thing somewhere else” She warned, “Hahahaha! Right.” Y/N laughed sarcastically as stood beside her man. Ruby rolled her eyes before turning to Sam, “Sam, please. Go. Get in the car and don't look back.” She pleaded warningly. “Hey blondie, we can take care of a few kitchen witches, thanks.” Dean scoffed cockily.

“I'm not talking about witches, you jackass. Witches are whores. I'm talking about who they serve.” Ruby snapped at him, “Yeah, demons. They’re getting their power from demons. We’re up to date, thanks” Y/N shot back sassily, placing her hands on her hips. “Yeah. And there's one here, now.” Ruby glared at her. “Oh, what, you mean besides you?” Dean smirked as Sam looked nervous

Ruby didn’t bother to respond, “Sam, it knows you're in town and it's gonna come after you and it's way more than you can handle.” She warned him, Y/N’s face dropped at this. “Oh come on, what is this, huh? Please tell me you're not listening to this shit!” Dean groaned. “Put a leash on your boyfriend, Y/N, if you wanna keep him.” Ruby snapped at the psychic, making her eyebrows touch the sky as Sam gulped.

“You’re not gonna do shit, bitch!” Y/N warned, her nostrils flaring as her anger got the best of her. “Dean, look, just chill out.” Sam pleaded, “No! No! She's messing with your head, God knows why, that's who they are!” Dean exclaimed, the Colt still aimed at Ruby. “Sweetie, seriously, relax” Y/N chimed in, placing her arm on her boyfriend’s bicep.

Dean quickly snapped around to her with a shocked expression, “You’re seriously siding with her on this?” He inquired, almost offended. “No, asshat, I’m just not stupid. She’s a fuckin’ demon that can kill us with a snap of her fingers. I’m not taking that chance!” Y/N retorted, narrowing her eyes at him as Sam sighed.

“I’m telling the truth!” Ruby insisted. “And I'm telling you to shut up, bitch!” Dean quipped back harshly, whipping his head back around to Ruby. “I'm sorry, why are you even a part of this conversation?!” Ruby huffed sarcastically, stepping forward, her arms crossed over her chest, “Oh, I don't know, maybe because he's my brother and she’s my girl, you black-eyed skank!” Dean retorted, standing his ground.

“Oh, right, right! You care about them so much. That's why you're checking out in a few months, leaving ‘em all alone?” That struck a nerve in Dean, his grip tightening on the Colt as Sam and Y/N gulped simultaneously. Their hearts thumping out of their chests. “Shut up…” Dean growled, shaking his head. “At least let me try and save them, since you won't be here to do it any more.”

That was it right there, “I said SHUT UP!” He fired a shot, only for Sam to push his hand upwards and away from Ruby screaming, “Dean, NO!” The brothers landed on the ground in front of Y/N’s feet, wrestling for the gun. “Knock it off! Both of you! Now damn it!” Y/N hollered as she crouched to rip them off of each other.

They both ignored her, however, too busy tussling to even heed her warning until she grew frustrated, using her power to forcefully rip Dean off of Sam. “I said, ENOUGH!!” She bellowed. Her body trembled as she pushed Dean back and Sam scuffled to his feet, letting out deep breaths to calm herself down.

Sam’s eyes darted behind her to see Ruby now gone from where she was standing, a solemn look on his face as Dean scoffed, looking at his little brother with disappointment. It was until their eyes focused on Y/N, both widening when they saw her nose beginning to bleed, her face scrunched in anger.

“Baby, you’re…” Dean trailed off as he took a small step forward, his eyes fixed on her face that was now stained with thick blood. “I’m what? Huh?” Y/N spat out, her face softening as soon as she realized what was wrong after tasting the warm metallic liquid that was dripping into her mouth from her top lip, now coating her teeth.

“Oh…” she mumbled, wiping some of the blood from her nose before it could get on her grey shirt. Sam and Dean both looked at each alarmed, watching in pure alarm as she wiped away the blood. She felt weak, her head began to throb from the sudden surge of power she had used to forcefully yank Dean off of Sam.

“C’mon, let’s get you bac—” Dean instructed immediately, approaching her with wide eyes to guide her back to the car before she could even let out a complaint. She protested anyway, “I’m fine, I swear—” She was cut off by Dean, who ignored her pleas and gently grabbed her shoulders, his grip a little too strong.

“No, you’re not. Shut up, let’s go.” He said firmly as he pulled her to their car, leaving Sam to stare around for Ruby in vain.

The trio walked into their shared motel room, Dean’s arm hooked around Y/N’s shoulder as he guided her in and switched on the light. She had old diner napkins stuffed up her nose from Dean’s glove compartment as a makeshift bandage. She still felt weak, gaining her strength back slowly but surely, “What the fuck were you thinking?” Dean chastised his little brother as he walked Y/N over to a bed.

He pushed her into the bed while Sam closed the door. “What?! What the hell was I thinking?” He exclaimed, offended, his voice going up an octave. “She's a demon, Sam. Period. All right? They want us dead, we want them dead.” Dean yelled as he turned to check the mini ice box they had stolen earlier, grabbing out a few ice cubes and placing them into a towel from his duffle.

“Oh, that's funny, I remember that demon chick in Ohio, Casey? You didn't want her dead.” Sam retorted, his concerned eyes flickering over to Y/N and back to Dean. “That was different! She wasn't stringing me along like a fish on a hook” Dean protested, walking back over to the bed where Y/N sat perched on the edge.

He knelt down in front of her, placing the towel of ice on the bridge of her nose as she sighed softly at the feeling. “Seriously, charming. I’m fi-“ Y/N tried to assure him once more but he cut her off. “Would you shut up? You’re not fine.” He chided, ignoring her eye roll as he focused on the task at hand. “No one's stringing me along!” Sam defended as Dean looked at him as though he was an idiot.

“Oh for Christ’s sake—“ Y/N groaned, handing Dean the towel with ice before standing up in front of him. “Look, I know it's dangerous, that she is dangerous. I don’t trust the bitch one second, but like it or not, she's useful.” Y/N backed Sam up, “You’re fuckin’ crazy!” Dean exclaimed in disbelief, his voice going up an octave as he looked at Y/N like she had lost her mind.

“No! We kill her before she kills us.” He snapped, his jaw clenching in frustration at the thought of even listening to Ruby as he pointed towards the door and then towards himself. “Kill her with what? The gun she fixed for us?” Sam mocked, narrowing his defiant eyes at his brother. “Whatever works.” Dean shot back with a shrug. Sam and Y/N sighed.

“Dean, if she wants us dead, all she has to do is stop saving our lives.” Sam explained as though it was obvious. Dean rolled his eyes, turning away from them, going over to the sink and turning on the water. “Look, we have to start looking at the big picture Dean, start thinking in strategies and — and moves ahead.” Sam tried to reason with his brother as he cupped his hand to collect some water, splashing it on his face.

Dean blinked rapidly as he groaned lightly, a pain striking in his stomach as he got a bit light headed. “It's not so simple, we're not – we're not just hunting anymore. We're at fuckin’ war.” Y/N added as Dean turned off the water and looked at them in the mirror above the sink, grabbing a towel to dry off his face and turned back around to them. “Are you two feeling okay?”

The duo simultaneously side-eyed him, “Why are you always asking us that?” Sam groaned as he sat on the edge of his bed. Y/N stood a few feet away from him, her hands perched on her hips. “Because you're taking advice from a demon, for starters.” He pointed to Sam. “And by the way, you seem less and less worried about offing people.” He pointed between them two. “You know, it used to eat you up inside.”

“Yeah, and what has that gotten us?” Y/N shot back, crossing her arms over her chest as she shifted her weight from one foot to another. “Nothing, but it's just what you're supposed to do, okay?” Dean retorted, “We're supposed to drive in the fuckin’ car and fuckin’ argue about this stuff. You know, you go on about the sanctity of life and all that shit.” He pointed to Sam while rubbing his stomach uncomfortably.

“And then you get all soft and try to play peacemaker, you yell at us for being knuckleheads, call us morons and then we figure it out cuz you’re right all the fuckin’ time” He groaned as he pointed to Y/N, still rubbing his stomach from the sticking pain. Sam couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at this, “Wait, so – so you're mad because I'm starting to agree with you?” Sam chuckled.

Dean looked between his brother and girlfriend before exhaling, “No, I'm not mad, I'm— I'm— I'm worried, Sam—“ He stammered before moving over to the bed and settling on the edge. Y/N followed to suit, noticing he seemed to be in a bit of unexplained pain. “I'm worried because you guys are not acting like yourselves” He huffed as Y/N gently rubbed his back.

“Yeah, you're right, we’re not. We don't have a choice.” Y/N said gently as Sam nodded in agreement, “What is that supposed to mean?” Dean grunted, glancing over at her as he clutched his stomach. She swallowed thickly, clearing her throat as Sam looked down at his hands to stop tears from brimming in his eyes, unable to speak.

Y/N signed heavily before beginning, “Look, charming, you're leaving— right? And we gotta stay here in this shithole of a world. Alone. By ourselves. How the fuck are we gonna do that?” She shook her head, her voice small as she spoke. Dean felt an override of guilt rise in his chest, “The way I see it, if we’re gonna make it, if we’re gonna fight this war after you're gone, then I gotta change.” Sam added, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Into what?” Dean asked, his brows furrowing. “Into you. I gotta be more like you.” Sam stated firmly. Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he blinked rapidly as he tried to focus on what Sam was getting at but the pain in his stomach just worsened. His face tightened as he winced, hunching forward.

Y/N took notice of his mannerisms quickly, putting a hand on his shoulder again, “Are you all right?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowing, “I-I’m fine” He huffed out, not wanting to seem weak in front of his brother. “You don’t look fine,” Sam pointed out, his voice laced with concern.

Y/N placed her hand on his forehead, “You’re sweating up a storm,” She mumbled. “I’m telling you, I’m fine.” Dean grunted, swatting her hand away from his forehead with an annoyed expression. “What’s going on with you???” Sam’s worry skyrocketed as Dean rocked back and forth, “I don’t know” Dean admitted with a wince. He gasped, hunching forward again sharply.

“Oh— guys something's wrong— bunch of knives inside of me—“ He grunted, gritting his teeth. “Dean?” Sam muttered, rushing over to kneel in front of his brother as Y/N tried to stop him from falling off the bed by his side, “Son of a bitch!” He groaned, shaking ferociously. “Babe, hey.” Y/N cooed lightly as placed her hands at the sides of his jaw and he looked around rapidly.

Dean just shook his head in response, unable to find his words as the pain kept surging at different places in his abdomen. “The coven man, it's gotta be the coven.” Dean groaned out, realization dawned on him. Sam and Y/N shared a panicked look as he darted up from his spot in front of Dean and Y/N stayed with him, the hunter writhing in pain.

“Okay, okay, don’t worry. Stay with him” Sam assured him, instructing Y/N firmly as he frantically started to search the room for a hex bag. She nodded kept a firm grip on him, letting him lean his head on her shoulder while she rubbed his back comfortingly. He grunted again as the pain worsened, “What the hell are you doing?” He grunted.

Sam pulled out a drawer and dumped out its contents, quickly throwing them to the side, “Uh, checking for hex bags” He spoke quickly, rifling through the motel desk drawers hurriedly. He began opening the cupboards below the sink looking for the hex bag as Dean yelled in pain, laying back back on the bed, his face still twisted in pain.

“Dean!” Y/N exclaimed, feeling helpless as she lunged forward to help him back up. “Sammy, hurry the FUCK UP!!” Y/N shouted over her shoulder, “I’m FUCKIN’ TRYING!” Sam yelled back as he pulled things out of the cupboard, throwing them aside. Dean leant forward again falling to his knees in front of the foot of the bed, spitting out blood, choking and sputtering.

“NO!!” Y/N grabbed him, now cradling him on the floor, the hunter spewing blood all over her top in a fetal position. Sam was still looking for the hex bag, in another cupboard pulling out pillows only to find nothing, he moved to the bed while Dean was still choking on blood and spitting it out of his mouth and onto a frantic Y/N.

Sam pulled off the covers to the bed, tearing back the sheets and sliced the mattress open with his knife and still couldn’t find the hex bag. “Guys, I can’t find it!” Sam panicked, his eyes landing on his brother growing weaker and weaker in Y/N’s arms. Their eyes connected, the psychic was close to breaking down as she cradled her love, shaking her head at Sam. “I don’t know what to do..” She cried.

“No.” Sam’s gaze hardened, marching over to his bag and rummaging through it. He retrieved the Colt and opened it to make sure there were bullets in it. “Sam, what are you doing?” Dean grunted out but Sam didn’t answer, his face filled with determination as he pushed himself to the door. “Sam?!” Y/N called out to him, “Stay here!!” He shouted back firmly before exiting the room and closing the door behind him.

"Son of a--!" Dean groaned, pushing himself off of Y/N's lap, using the foot of the bed to steady himself, as he stumbled into a standing position, "We've gotta go after him—" Only to fall flat on his ass again and into Y/N’s lap once more. “Stay down, you idiot!” She chided, her hands firmly on his shoulders, trying to hold him down as he huffed in frustration, “I’m fine!” he protested, even though he was in a lot of pain and covered in blood.

The Impala sped down a dark country road with Sam at the wheel, a look of determination on his face as he gripped the steering wheel in one hand and the Colt in his other.

Elizabeth, Renee and Tammi were around a coffee table in the Van Allen residence with the altar set up, chanting. “Kihér tolic echranmuk, madan fiéré, marc oh don duer kianave—” They were interrupted when Sam kicked in the door, the wood from the frame scattering around the entrance as the women scream out of fear getting up from the altar raising their hands in surrender.

A pissed off Sam Winchester entered the room with the Colt drawn at the women, “Oh my God!” Renee squealed, “Let him go.” Sam demanded gruffly. “Let who go? What are you doing? You're insane, get out!” Renee screamed confused as they all panicked. Sam was beyond pissed and fed up at this point, “Look, if you know about me, then you know about this gun.” He waved the Colt between them.

“You're killing my brother. Now let him go. Get away from the altar.” He instructed. “What?” Renee scoffed, “NOW!!” He bellowed, “Okay…okay...” They all moved away from the altar with their hands still up as Sam kept the Colt trained on them.

Back in their motel room, Y/N was still cradling a Dean in her arms, tears streaming down her face, watching helplessly as her love coughed and sputtered blood all over her. She couldn’t give a rat's ass about her shirt at this point. All of her focus was on him, and the fact that there was nothing she could do to help him. No matter how badly she wanted to heal him, she couldn't, she was completely and utterly useless to him and the realization made her feel even worse.

"It’s okay, baby," she whispered softly, her lower lip trembling as she gently pushed his sweaty hair back from his face. “You’re gonna be okay…you’re gonna be okay…” She whispered more for herself than for him, rocking him back and forth as she gently patted his back.

He groaned softly, his breaths uneven as he lifted a shaky hand bloody to cradle her cheek. His tear filled eyes pierced hers, a pained but still comforting smile gracing his face. "I'm okay, princess... I'm okay." He reassured her weakly. But they both knew he was lying, it only made her cry harder.

She cradled his head to her chest, her grip on him tightening as she closed her eyes tight, trying to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks which were now smeared with his blood. "You have to be okay, okay?" She whispered to him, a desperate tone in her voice as she continued to rock him gently. "I've got you…I’ve got you..." She comforted, gently running her fingers through his hair, her voice shaky as she kissed the top of his head lovingly.

His breathing started to slow, making her believe he was doing better. “There he is, there’s my guy..” Her words died in her throat when she saw his eyes flutter shut. “DEAN!” She cried out, her heart shattering in her chest. Her grief was cut short when she heard footsteps approaching the door, only for it to be kicked in harshly. The culprit was revealed to be Ruby. Dean’s eyes shot open as the sound of Y/N shouting his name and the door being kicked in.

“You wanna kill me? Get in line bitch.” He spat at Ruby. Ruby rolled her eyes and marched over to Dean. She pulled him up by the collar, tossing him on the bed. “What the fuck, you bitch?!” Y/N bellowed, pushing herself up to attack the demon. Only to be kicked hard in the stomach by Ruby, landing on the floor with a heavy grunt. She then leaned over Dean and forced his mouth open with her left hand.

Dean tried to push her away as she sprayed a dark brown liquid into his mouth from a bag at her side with her right hand while Dean still struggled under her hold. Ruby stood up as Dean chokes on the liquid and spits some back out. “Stop…calling me…bitch…” She breathed heavily as Y/N groaned, winching and clutching her stomach. She was sure she had broken a rib or two.

Back in the Van Allen residence, Sam was still aiming the gun at Elizabeth, Renee and Tammi. “Go.” He demanded gruffly, pointing to the fireplace. Elizabeth, Renee and Tammi move over in front of the fireplace with their hands still up in the air. “What— we— we weren't hurting anyone.” Elizabeth pleaded, “Please, we don't even know your brother.” Renee insisted.

“Stop the spell, or die. Five seconds.” Sam narrowed his dark eyes at them, his finger hovering over the trigger. “What?!” Renee squealed as the three women shook, staring down the barrel of the gun. Sam was deadly serious, cocking the gun and pointing it back at them. “Four.”

“No, please, please don't kill us!” Renee cried, “We were just getting Renee a lower mortgage rate!” Elizabeth chimed in, looking over to her friend to back her up. Renee nodded frantically as Sam’s face twisted with confusion because the women seemed sincere but still held the gun ready.

Back in the motel room, Ruby stood in front of the couple. Y/N was helping Dean wipe his mouth with a towel, he was still clutching his stomach but he stopped coughing up the blood. The pain gone physically but mentally, Dean could still feel the knives poking at him. “Next time you point that gun at me, I'm not gonna just disappear, understand?” Ruby warned Dean before tossing the gun at Y/N.

Y/N’s eyes flickered up to her, catching the gun in one hand while eyeing the demon. “You…saved my life..” Dean said surprised, Y/N mimicking his shocked expression as she finished up wiping his mouth. “Don’t mention it.” Ruby smirked, “What was that stuff?” Y/N asked, pointing to the bag. “God it was ass.” Dean muttered with a grimace, “It tasted like ass.”

“It's called witchcraft, kitten.” With that, Ruby turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her and leaving Dean and Y/N on the bed, the psychic grimacing in disgust at the nickname the demon seemed to like calling her.

"Witchcraft, my ass." Dean protested with a scoff, gently rubbing his stomach."Seriously that was the nastiest crap I’ve ever tasted.” He chuckled, trying to lighten the tension by using humor. Y/N however, wasn’t amused. Still gripping the side of her ribcage where the bruising had already started from Ruby’s kick, her mind still stuck on the fact that if she hadn’t stepped in, Dean would’ve been dead.

He would’ve gone to hell way before his time. Now that he was saved, she knew damn well when his true time came. She wouldn’t know how to handle it. She was already dreading it, still clinging onto the little hope of saving him but witnessing Dean’s suffocation in real time, she felt sick to her stomach imagining what could actually happen if he went. What was going to happen if those hellhounds can for him.

He noticed the way she was staring down at the worn carpet and her hand still wrapped around her injured side. His face softened, “Hey, I’m fine…” He reassured her gently, placing a hand on her knee. “Yeah…for now” She whispered as she nodded, still unable to meet his gaze, which only made him more worried.

He gently grabbed her chin, tilting her head up to look at him, “Princess, look at me.” He murmured. Her eyes finally met his ones as sadness and frustration filled her eyes. “I’m still here.” He said softly, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. “And what’s gonna happen when you’re not?” She croaked, her face creasing.

He sighed softly, his eyes full of guilt, he moved his hands to hold her face. “Hey, don’t think like that.” He told her gently, “C’mon. I’m still here right now, right? You can’t keep worrying about what if’s—“

“It’s not an ‘if’ anymore, Dean.” She shot back firmly, “Maybe we can’t save you, just maybe we won’t be able to get you out of that stupid fuckin’ deal, then what’re we gonna do? Just let you rot in hell?” Her voice broke. He winced, hearing the raw pain in her voice, he gently wiped a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb.

“Don’t,” He told her firmly, “You can’t think like that. I’m not going anywhere, okay? You have to believe that.” He tried to convince her as he wiped her falling tears with his thumb. But he wasn’t convinced himself, “I dunno if I believe that anymore,” She sighed, shaking her head.

His face fell and his heart broke for her, he knew this was hard on her too. Maybe even harder on her than him. He pulled her closer, making her straddle his lap as he wrapped his arms around her tightly. He leaned up to press a kiss to her lips but she quickly pulled back, “No—“ She grimaced, “I love you, but I’m not kissing you when your mouth smells like ass” She gagged at the smell of the concoction Ruby squirted into his mouth.

He let out a strangled laugh, “Can’t argue with that” He chuckled, leaning his head on her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly as she buried her face in his neck.

Back in the Van Allen residence, “Okay, maybe it's not you—“ He shook slightly before turning the gun to Elizabeth. “—or you.” He points the gun at Renee this time, moving the gun again. “Maybe it's you…” He accused, pointing the gun at Tammi who sobbed, upset and scared. Sam wasn’t buying it for one second, “I don't even know what he's talking about. What a–re you even talking about?” She stammered.

“I mean, all of you, everyone in your little coven, you've all had runs of good fortune.” Sam spat with disgust, his eyes still trained on Tammi. “Newsworthy good fortune. Except for you, Tammi…” He narrowed his eyes, “Now tell me, why is that? You didn't want anything for yourself? Or is it because you're already getting what you wanted – like these women's souls.”

Renee and Elizabeth’s eyes widened with pure fear, “I can't- I-I'm not- I-I-I don't…” Tammi faux-stammered again, her act falling when Sam didn’t let up. His dark eyes unconvinced. So she sighed and put her hands down, going from looking frightened to calm. Her eyes flashed over black, revealing that she was the demon Y/N and Ruby warned him about.

“Nice dick work, Magnum.” Tammi smirked darkly. The other two women gasped audibly, looking shocked as their jaws fell. “Let. My brother. Go.” Sam commanded, gritting his teeth. “What's wrong? Couldn't find my hex bag? Sorry, sweetheart, but your brother's lungs should be on the floor by now and poor little Y/N is probably crying over his bloody corpse.” Tammi said menacingly with a nasty smile.

Sam’s eyes held pure anger, his finger finally pulling the trigger to the Colt. But the bullet didn’t hit her, since Tammi lifted her hand, slowing it. The bullet lost its momentum, stopped and fell to the floor. Elizabeth and Renee gasped again as Sam’s face fell with shock. “You're in a lot of trouble, Sam.” The demon giggled before waving her arm.

Before he knew it, Sam was propelled across the room as an invisible force smacked into him. His body was slammed roughly into the wall with a loud impact. He groaned as he slammed against it, his head bashed against it. “Tammi, what's wrong with your eyes?” Elizabeth asked cautiously, tears streaming down her face. The demon turned to her with a bored expression, her eyes now reverting back to its host’s brown color while Sam struggled against the wall.

“Tammi, what are you doing?!” Renee demanded in her snooty tone, “Renee, shut your painted hole.” Tammi snapped, making Elizabeth cup her hand over her mouth in shock and Renee began shaking with anger. Her eyes bewildered, “What? I-I will— You can't— Not in my house, Tammi Benton!” Renee stupidly stood her ground.

The demon, annoyed, rolled her eyes before waving her right hand at Renee, resulting in the blonde’s head snapping to the right so far it almost turned completely backwards, killing her instantly. Her wide dead eyes connected with Elizabeth’s, her body falling to the floor as Elizabeth shrieked in terror, still covering her mouth.

The sounds of the bones in Renee’s neck cracking made Sam flinch on the wall, feeling sick to his stomach as he watched one of the housewives meet her demise due to her egotistical nature. “Look. You got me – let the girl go.” Sam pleaded through grunts, his jaw clenching. “Wait your turn, young man.” The demon snapped at him, now turning back to Elizabeth.

She whimpered, “Oh my god..” trembling as Tammi slowly stalked towards her, “Shh, Lizzie. It’s okay” The demon cooed with a menacing look in her eyes, “You’re not Tammi..” Elizabeth whimpered again as the demon brought her hand up to play with her brown locks. “No, but I'm wearing her meat. I had to break the ice with you girls somehow.” Tammi responded softly, but her tone held no comfort.

“You killed Renee.” Elizabeth cried, “Renee, Amanda ... That's what happens to witches who get voted off the island.” The demon smirked as she moved to walk around the altar table. “Who..are you?” Elizabeth shook as she asked, resulting in the demon lightly chuckling, “Funny story, actually.” She began, playing her hands behind her back and she recollected.

“You remember all those dark demonic forces you prayed to, when you swore your servitude? Just who did you think you were praying to?” She mocked as Sam fought against her hold she had on him but it was no use, “This-this isn't – it can't b—“ Elizabeth shook her head in denial, “What did you think it was? Make-believe? Positive thinking? The Secret?” The demon continued to taunt her as she stalked toward her once more.

“No, it was me. You sold yourself to me, you pig.” She cackled as Elizabeth gasped, looking at her with horror. “All I had to do was bring one good book to Book Club, and you ladies lined up to kiss my ass.” The demon smirked, “No, no, we didn't know—“ Elizabeth cried, shaking her head. “Oh, yes you did. You knew every step of the way, and now your ever-livin' souls are mine.”

Tammi then turned back to Sam, placing a finger up. “Comments? Questions?” Sam didn’t bother to answer her as another nasty smirk plastered across her lips before she now stalked toward him. “Hmm, Sammy Winchester, wow! Right here in our little town. You know, my friends and I, we've been looking for you and your friend” Sam rolled his eyes at her, scoffing.

“Why? Oh, right, 'cause we’re supposed to lead some piss poor demon army.” He shot back with sass and a bored expression, “No, not at all. You’re not our Messiah and Y/N is not our Saviour. We don't believe in you.” The demon spat with disgust. “But, there's a new leader rising in the West – a real leader. That's the horse to bet on, Sam, the one who's gonna tear this world apart.”

Sam glared at her as he continued to struggle in the hold, “Thing is, this demon? It doesn't like you guys very much. It doesn't want the competition.” Tammi then raised her hand, Sam slid up the wall, groaning, and was suspended against it, his feet leaving the ground. Which was pretty high considering he’s a fuckin’ giraffe, “Nothing personal, it's a P.R. thing, so, buh-bye.”

Tammi kept her hand raised, and Sam began to be crushed into the wall, paint and plaster cracking as he was pushed harder into the solid barrier. Her eyes flickered over to Elizabeth, who stood there watching, frozen in fear and the front door to the house slams open. Dean and Y/N run in with their shotguns drawn, only for Tammi to turn around and wave her hand in their direction.

Easily throwing them over the sofa. The two stumbled to their feet, only to get pinned to the wall behind them, side by side. “Three for one. Lovely.” Tammi smirked, eyeing the trio. “Great fuckin’ idea, Dean. Run in, guns blazing.” Y/N spat angrily at her boyfriend as she grunted due to the force crushing her chest.

“Shut up” Dean grumbled back at her, “Oh yeah, cause sitting back and waiting would’ve clearly been much better” He responded with sarcasm, grunting when Tammi pushed him more into the wall. “Hey! Save the squabbling for couples therapy in hell” The demon snapped, her hand still raised in their direction.

“How ‘bout you go suck a fat one?” Dean retorted with sass, ignoring the pressure on his chest as he sent her a mocking smirk. Y/N was fighting a grin from forming on her face, not wanting to encourage Dean’s smart-ass behaviors but finding the fact that he’s still got it in him to be a total ass during near death situations to be adorable while Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance on his side of the wall.

Tammi raised her palm, sending the three higher up on the wall as they grunted and groaned. “Wait!” A voice said suddenly, revealing to be Ruby. The blonde demon walked into the house with her hands raised in surrender, resulting in Tammi’s head snapping towards her. Surprised filled her eyes as she allowed her hand to fall to her side, but the hunters remained plastered to the wall.

“Please. I just ... came to talk.” Ruby pleaded, putting her hands down. “You made it out of the gate. Impressive. That was a bitch of a fight, wasn't it?” Tammi scoffed, “Doors out of Hell only open for so long.” Ruby retorted dryly, “What do you want, Ruby?” Tammi snapped, “I've been lost without you….” Ruby said in a sultry tone as she advanced slowly towards Tammi.

“…take me back. That's why I led the Winchesters and L/N here.” She smirked darkly as she glanced over to them, seeing Dean and Y/N’s faces contort with anger. The couple’s gazes darted over to Sam, mouthing harsh, ‘Told you so.’ To him. The younger Winchester looked betrayed, hurt at the fact that Ruby wasn’t going to help them. While Y/N too was suffering with that pain but she masked it over with anger directed towards the treacherous demon.

“They're for you ... as a gift.” Ruby practically moaned as she spoke to Tammi. “Really?” Tammi asked with a dark smirk, “Let me serve you again. I've wanted it – I've wanted you – for so long.” Ruby confirmed in a soft breathy tone as she bit her lip, now moving forward to stand face to face with Tammi. Dean and Y/N lifted their eyebrows at the hot-demon-chick on hot-demon-chick flirtation. The psychic tilting her head as the hunter made a, ‘Goddamn’ face.

Sam, however, wanted to puke on the spot.

“You were one of my best.” Tammi sighed. Ruby smiled softly, pretending to lean forward to kiss her but instead, she whipped out her knife in an attempt to stab Tammi, only for her to catch it midair. A nasty snarl leaving her lips, “But then again, you always were a lying whore.” The knife was thrown sideways out of their hands across the wood floor when Tammi flicked their hands to the side.

The demons immediately began to brawl with Ruby kneeing Tammi a few times in her midsection. Sending a couple of right hooks across her face but Tammi recuperated almost immediately. Head butting Ruby harshly. The two grunted in pain as the three hunters, still against the wall, watching anxiously. Flicking every so often. They weren’t even sure if Ruby was on their side at this point, her acting was a bit too good.

Tammi clapped back with a few right hooks of her own, kneeing Ruby in her stomach before kicking her into her face and sending her straight into a TV on the table. Sparks erupted from the cord behind her. But she got up and kicked Tammi in her stomach, attempting to run past her, however Tammi clotheslined Ruby causing her to fall flat on her back. Tammi then pulled Ruby up by her collar and threw her into a bookcase, the demon bleeding from her nose and mouth profusely.

Tammi then got a fireplace poker from the stand on the hearth, looking at Elizabeth who was still cowering from her, before she stalked back over to Ruby with the poker in her hand. “You're really telling me you threw in your chips with Abbott, Costello and Aubert here?” Tammi mocked the panting demon as she stood above her, looking over at the three hunters with disgust.

Ruby, panting, tried to get up but Tammi hit her across the face with the fireplace poker. Elizabeth took her chance when she realized they weren’t paying attention to her anymore, ran to the altar and dumped a bunch of pins out of a bow onto the cloth with the demonic symbol on it. Elizabeth was unseen by Tammi, who was still paying attention to Ruby.

“Come on. Get up.” Tammi continued to taunt Ruby when she didn’t move, blood still running down her nose and mouth, “I said, get up!” She shouted again before tossing the poker aside with a bored expression and crouching over Ruby, grabbing her by the jacket and pulling her up. “We've been here before, haven't we?” Tammi chuckled as she glanced over to Sam. “She didn't tell you?”

Sam looked confused as Tammi turned back to Ruby, “Pretty mortifying, I guess. She was one of mine. I turned her out a long, long time ago. Ruby here was a witch. Of course, that was when you were human.” She revealed as Ruby’s head drooped, so she grasped it, reeling it back further as she winced and grumbled. Dean, Sam and Y/N all looked surprised even though they were still both pinned to their respective walls.

Tammi then threw Ruby back down onto the debris of the bookcase she crashed through roughly and stood up, “Tsk, didn’t want your friends to know that all those centuries back, you sold yourself to me? Embarrassing, I guess.” She taunted as Ruby looked up at her with utter distaste, “But don't worry love, no secrets where you're heading remember?”

Tammi began chanting and black smoke rose out of Ruby’s mouth curling and hovering inches above her mouth as she tried to fight the exorcism. “Monyé valack forsa, ulu iri regatt ruac, fieesh nieesh forthsa lé inmist infirum forthsa por un betest a té un fornalles ecclaisee—” Suddenly, she began to cough due to Elizabeth chanting under her breath at the altar in an attempt to kill the demon.

As Tammi coughed harder, her power faltering. That resulted in Dean and Y/N dropping from the wall, both falling forward. Sam also fell from the wall and dropped to the floor as Tammi brought her hand up to her mouth. She coughed up a handful of long pins into her hand, her mouth bleeding in the process. She looked at the pins confused for a second before she remembered that she allowed Elizabeth to live.

With an angry growl, she lifted her right hand and clenched it into a fist. Elizabeth’s breath catches, bones crushing loudly as her chanting stopp. Her eyes went wide as she brought her hand up to clutch her chest before her heart stopped and she fell onto the altar, dead with her eyes still open.

Y/N used the distraction to her advantage, grasping up Ruby’s discarded knife from the ground before pouncing on Tammi. She grappled her from behind, wrapping her arm around her throat before driving the knife into her back, stabbing her repeatedly as she struggled against her grip. Tammi died as well as the demon that was inside of her, her body going weak in Y/N’s hands.

She allowed the corpse to slump down, falling to the floor, the knife still in her back. Y/N breathed heavily as her eyes glanced over her shoulder to Sam and Dean, the elder Winchester helping his little brother up to his feet. The Winchesters padded over to her, moving a bit sluggish due to their shared injuries. They stopped in front of Ruby, who had pushed herself up from the ground.

“Go.” She instructed the three, slightly embarrassed as she wiped the blood away from her mouth. “I'll clean up this mess.” She assured them. The three nodded and Y/N wrapped her arms around both of the brothers shoulders, helping each other on their way out. “Wait” Dean grunted, stopping them so he could reach down and pick up their shotguns from earlier.

The trio all look back at Ruby one more time. She turned her eyes black and glared at them harshly, “Go.” She snapped in an authoritative tone. They all walk out the door as Ruby leaned over Tammi’s body, taking her knife out of her back and holding it up. The knife was covered in blood, and smoking as Ruby breathed heavily.

____________________________________________

After the events, they went back to their motel room. Dean and Y/N were getting dinner for them while Sam stayed back. He was now splashing his face with water, panting as he looked in the mirror above the sink with a worried expression etched on his face.

Meanwhile, outside, Dean and Y/N were walking back with their food in their hands. Suddenly, the lights outside began to flicker and the two stopped in their tracks, instinctively going for their guns with their free hands as they looked around. No one was in sight but they scanned the place once more with their eyes, landing on Ruby, who was standing there in the shadows of the hotel parking lot with her arms crossed over her.

“Not this bitch again.” Y/N muttered in annoyance to herself, putting her gun away along with Dean. “So the devil may care after all, is that what I'm supposed to believe?” Dean said to Ruby across the lot. “I don't believe in the devil.” Ruby shot back as she stepped out of the shadows, stalking toward them. They did the same, now stopping in front of her. “Wacky night.” Y/N commented.

“So let me get this straight, you were human once, you died, you went to hell, you became a…” Dean’s curious words trailed off as Y/N gulped, glancing over to her boyfriend nervously. “Yeah.” Ruby answered matter-of-factly, turning to leave. But even Y/N was curious, “How long ago?” The psychic asked, causing the demon to stop in her tracks. “Back when the plague was big.” Ruby answered, her back still to them.

“So all of 'em – every damn demon – they were all human once?” Dean asked, his brows furrowing. “Every one I've ever met.” Ruby answered as she turned to face them. “Well, they sure don't act like it.” Y/N scoffed, “Most of them have forgotten what it means…..or even that they were. That's what happens when you go to Hell, Dean. That's what Hell is – forgetting what you are.”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, a lump growing as Dean rolled his eyes. “Philosophy lesson from a demon. I'll pass, thanks.” He snarked, making Y/N shake her head as she swallowed thickly. “It's not philosophy. It's not a metaphor. There's a real fire in the pit. Agonies you can't even imagine.” Ruby assured him. Dean tried to mask his fear as Y/N’s gaze dropped to the floor, clenching her jaw harshly.

“No, I saw "Hellraiser". I get the gist.” He retorted. Ruby rolled her eyes and turned to start walking away. “Actually, they got that pretty close. Except for all the custom leather.” Dean looked thoughtful, pondering a question in his mind. The same question on Y/N’s mind, the thought eating away at them. Ruby had an inkling of what they wanted to ask so she stopped her departure, and turned back to them.

“The answer is yes, by the way.” She said, “Sorry?” Y/N asked with a raised brow, feigning confusion along with Dean. “Yes, the same thing will happen to you.” She told them. The two blinked rapidly, hating the fact that it was true. “It might take centuries…but sooner or later Hell will burn away your humanity. Every Hell-bound soul…every one…turns into something else. Turns you into us. So yeah….yeah, you can count on it.”

Dean glanced down at the floor, now realizing something. He was sure of it but he couldn’t ask it in front of Y/N, not wanting to break her heart or her spirit. So he turned to Y/N. “Sweetheart, will you take these inside?” He asked her gently, handing her the food in her free hand, her other hand holding up the drinks. Y/N’s face fell, “Wha—”

“Please?” He pleaded and gave her his best puppy dog eyes, adding that little pouty lip she always fell head over heels for, knowing it would make her not fight back. Sure, she was stubborn but she couldn’t always resist his charming side.

She let out a heavy sigh and hesitantly took the food from him. Once it was out of his hands, he nodded with a small smile. “Thanks.” Y/N nodded, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, still looking confused before turning and walking toward the motel room door.

Dean pressed a kiss to his fingers, blowing it in her direction as she threw one last glance at the two before shoving the key from her pocket into the motel room door. Once she was inside, Dean’s face fell back to expressionless as he turned to Ruby. The demon had a knowing look on her face and let out a small smirk. “Spit it out then. I know you’ve got a question on your tongue.”

“There's no way of saving me from the Pit, is there?” He asked with a knowing look, scared to find out the answer. “No.” Ruby confirmed with her sigh. Her face remained emotionless, and his face fell as he stepped dangerously towards the demon with an angry expression. “Then why’d you tell Sam and Y/N that you could?” Ruby shrugged before saying, “So he would talk to me. You Winchesters and L/N can be pretty bigoted. I needed something to help him get past the—”

“The demon thing? It's pretty hard to get past.” Dean interrupted with a dry scoff as Ruby chuckled humorlessly, “Look at you. Tryin' to be all stoic. My god, it's heartbreaking.” She snorted as Dean rolled his eyes, “Why are you telling me all this?” He demanded, “I need you and Y/N to help me.” She answered, “Help with what?” Dean’s brows creased as he narrowed his eyes at her, “With Sam.” She stated matter-of-factly.

Dean sighed, shaking his head. “The way your girlfriend stuck that demon tonight – it was pretty tough. I know you’re like that too. Now, Sam's almost there, but not quite. You two need to help me get him ready – for life without you. To fight this war on their own.” He didn’t answer, his jaw clenching so harshly you’d swear the corners were turning white.

Ruby turned to walk away again. “Ruby!” He called out to her harshly and she paused. “Why do you want us to win?” He asked. Ruby turned back around to face him again. “Isn't it obvious? I'm not like them. I don't know why. I – I wish I was, but ... I'm not. I remember what it's like.” She stammered, as she looked down thoughtfully. “What what's like?” Dean blinked as he asked once more,

“Being human.” She answered simply as she looked back up at him. It was now Dean’s turn to look down, lost in his thoughts for a few seconds, and when he looked up Ruby had disappeared leaving Dean alone in the parking lot.

____________________________________________

Author’s Note: This was sooooo long overdue and for that I apologize but I hope everyone is doing well! Thank you for always supporting me and this weird ass book. Be sure to tell me what you loved and what you hated <3

What was your favorite scene? I’d love to hear!

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy

@hey-its-zoe @modiddys-blog @thvxr @tommysaxes @cookiemonstermusic258 @elite4cekalyma

@ladykitana90 @strawberrykiwisdogog @barnes70stark @mostlymarvelgirl

Xoxo

#dean winchester #supernatural #spn #sam winchester #dean and sam #sam and dean #supernatural fandom #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #Genesis Primis #The Old Testament Series #sam winchester smut #sam winchester x jo harvelle

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nicolesainz · 3 months ago

Text

LHR to MAN (MM7)

Mason Mount x f!reader

Summary: Sure, having fun with no attachment works, especially for a footballer. But sleeping with the enemy? Is it okay to mess around with an ex Chelsea player, whilst you're still the captain of the women's team? where does all the tiredness come from? and, is falling in love that bad?

Warnings: graphic descriptions, minors dni, 18+, unprotected sex, filth, angst, jealousy, like 10% fluff

A/n: I haven't written about Mason in a while and I have missed him. Plus, most of my fics are about him, so going back to my roots!

Never in my life I believed that one could that easily become a gold member at an airline.

Most do it to visit a loved one, their parents, relatives, friends, maybe visit a new country.

I, on the other hand, do it for 2 nights of endless pleasure and a broken heart.

Mason and I grew closer when I signed for Chelsea in 2020, during the January Transfer Window. Both the women's and the men's team were on a great run and just a few more players would do the trick for ultimate success.

I was brought from Leicester City, alongside Ben Chilwell. Guess Mount had a thing for ex Leicester players, given one of us became his best friend and the other his fuckbuddy.

At first, me, Mason, Ben, Reece, Kai, Christian, Erin, Lauren and Sam were a big friend group. Always going out after game days and celebrating our wins. Things were rolling out smoothly and exciting. I felt like I had finally found a permanent family to eventually end my career after a few rounds of trophies.

Things started going downhill, the moment I sipped the final drops of my Jameson and they started tasting like 'Mason would be a great fuck' in my head and tongue.

Luckily for me, Mason was thinking exactly the same thing about me. All it took was a "Hey, I think I will head now. I am completely wasted" and a "I will drive you back" from a more sober but still tipsy Mason.

The first night was exactly like the lyrics of Bed Chem, by Sabrina Carpenter.

He was a cute boy, with a white jacket and a thick (London) accent.

When he drove us home, in simply milliseconds, he had picked me up, pulled my panties down and turned me around roughly and simply everything made sense.

Mason was smiling in pleasure as I was on top of him, riding him tirelessly, trusting him inside me as deeper as I could. He would always talk sweet to me, even if we were acting the most vile things on each other.

I was genuinely obsessed.

It barely took him one hour after we finished when he said "Are you free next week?"

A week turned into a month. A month turned into 3 months and then in the blink of an eye all this turned into 3 years.

In the end of the 22/23 season it was announced that Mason would part ways with Chelsea and transfer to Manchester United. I knew negotiations weren't going well, but I had hoped that the board would settle eventually in an agreement with Mase.

At least Mason had the decency to call me before the news blew up.

"I'm really sorry, I messed up. I will be leaving this summer. United offered me a place and I accepted. I am so very sorry."

I can emphasize enough how many times he apologized.

It was because of those apologies that every time I fly to Manchester, my heart is heavy. I had held onto those small signs that Mason started seeing me as something more than a fuckbuddy. Maybe as a person he would like to date and have around in a more permanent way.

But there was no confirmation of my suspicion.

Going back to present day, Mason was thrilled to be back in the squad and starting XI for Sunday's game. He has been having a rough few months.

This roughness and sadness was put on me. All of his frustrations would turn into endless sex, literally every time Amorim told him that he wasn't fit to start in a game.

In between his sadness, I could sense the appreciation that someone would take care of him, even if that was in a sexual manner. Obviously I was willing to listen to him if he wanted to talk, but he would always put on a smile after he had finished. He would always be more relaxed.

I am currently being sent into oblivion, as Mason's face is buried in between my legs, feelings his beard scratch my thighs and his tongue rolling around my sex.

Oh my fuck

Luckily, sex is a great way of exercise, so the more the merrier.

My fingers run through his hair and pull his face closer to me, with suffocation being key into my pleasure, but with no objections from Mason.

"Jesus Mason. What will happen if you score in the game on Sunday?" I say breathless

"I will literally fuck you on the field, whilst you wear my jersey." He raised his head to look at me before sitting up his body and inserting himself inside me violently slowly.

My mouth opens agape as Mason thrusts abruptly and holds onto my bedpost to have more balance in his movements. His tongue is so deep down my throat that I can feel my moans wanting to escape from the excitement.

"Lovely, you are as tight as ever" the more he keeps taking, the more wet and tight I get. Everything about this man can drive me insane and one step away from locking him in the bedroom and riding him day and night.

Even the neighbours could hear the cracking of the bed with how brutally we are enjoying ourselves. My legs unconsciously wrap themselves around Mason's waist and as he picks me up, his lips part from mine for a brief second and the distance is already killing me.

"I know its selfish of me, but sometimes I wish you would transfer to Manchester, just so I could have you all to myself."

The moment those words left his mouth, my heart rate skyrocketed. I didn't know he was feeling like this. Like I was.

"If it wasn't for your future that I care about, I would ask you to move in with me."

What is going on and why do I like where this is going?

"If I could, I would follow you to the other side of the world."

This has definitely gone past the friendship line, but if he wasn't going to stop, then neither was I.

Mason guided us to his shower, opened the tap, picked me up on his shoulders with my womanhood facing his lips, kneels and feasted as if he was longing my touch for years.

"I want more of you"

Cries, tears and moans leave my body as this erupts a million firecracker inside my stomach and heart. Going from one bad relationship to another, my friends to benefits situation with Mason has been the best thing I have had in ages.

"You are mine." He groans as he allows me to touch the ground and he rises up, so i am eyeing his hardened errection.

I smirk with how evil his thoughts are when we are together.

I grab his thighs firmly and use my tongue as a toy to mess around with the tip of his manhood as Mason breathes deeply, with his hands in a cross position.

"This would be so much easier if the thoughts of Colwill touching you didn't creep on me every night that you are not near me." he whines as my throat gap deepens for Mason to go down further.

"Hell, I love you" he blurts out, looking me dead in the eye, holding my chin up softly.

"Mase, uh, I-" he wastes no time and falls once more on his knees to kiss me sweetly, cupping my face inside his hands and holding my body closer for warmth.

"I will travel every day just to spend 10 minutes with you, if it means you can be mine. I can't stand the idea of you one day leaving my grasp. I love you so much."

"You have no idea how long I have bee wanting to say this to you, Mason. I love you too. And maybe soon I can call Manchester my new home as well."

"Home will be wherever you are. Whether that is London, Manchester, Barcelona or even another planet. I simply want you close to me."

"That will forever be the case, baby. I will always be yours. Just like I have been from the very beginning"

#mason mount smut #mason mount one shot #mason mount x reader #mason mount fluff #mason mount

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xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox · 10 months ago

Text

Rumination

Ruminate

(v.) to think about something deeply

After Edward left her, Bella Swan fell apart. Desperate to try and save his eldest daughter, Charlie brings his youngest daughter to Forks to see if she can bring her sister out of her depression.

Now, y/n must try to help her sister find her way back to the light while also trying to navigate her Junior year of high school in the odd town of Forks.

Chapter Three: Revelation

Now playing: Trouble by Cage the Elephant

Warnings: cursing, mentions of murder (James, Laurent, reader’s dreams), mentions of vomiting, mentions of death (Laurent, reader’s dreams)

I convinced Charlie to let me stay home from school today. I had things to do, and school would only keep me from them. Besides, we weren’t doing anything important.

Picking up my phone, I dialed Quil’s number and waited.

“Hello?” His voice crackled into life on the other end of the phone, and I felt relieved.

“Hey, Quil, it’s y/n. Sorry to call you so early, I didn’t know when your school started.” I told him, wondering if I woke him up or not. “Is there a way you could get out of school today? I’ll come pick you up, but I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

“Uh, yeah, I think I can get out of school? Just-uh, gimme a sec.” He said, and I heard him set the phone down. His voice, distorted by the distance from the receiver, sounded as he spoke to who I assumed was his mother.

He came back after a moment, picking up the phone again and telling me, “Told Mom that I threw up. Come get me at ten, she leaves for work at nine thirty.”

Relieved, I smile.

“Thank you, Quil. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you, y/n.”

With that, I hung up the phone and went back to sleep.

---

“I made some lunch and stuff for us, I was thinking we would go to La Push to talk.” I said as Quil opened the door to my truck.

“Sounds good. Do you want to talk there only or..?” He looked at me, waiting for my response. I sighed.

“I’d rather talk there, but I’ll tell you what this all is about.” I said, pulling out of his driveway and trying to order my thoughts.

Deciding on how to say everything, I started to speak.

“Bella said that Embry had distanced himself from you and Jacob at the end of January. I told Jake that I had seen him hanging out with Sam and his group. Now, Jake’s flaking on Bella and I, and Bella thinks he’s doing what Embry did. I just wanted to fact check with you and see if you knew anything.”

Quil was silent for a moment, then nodded.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s wait to talk until we’re at the beach.”

---

La Push was beautiful as always, the chilly air offset by the warm sun. I set down the large blanket I had brought and put the cooler down on top.

Quil and I sat in silence for a moment as he slowly ate one of the sandwiches I had brought. I sipped on some water as I tried to decide what to say.

Swallowing the last of his sandwich, Quil looked at me and started talking.

“At the end of January, Embry started ditching us for Sam and his gang. Before that, he was pissy and irritated at everything. I thought he was stressed with school stuff, ’cus that’s how he gets when he’s stressed, but it was more than that. He started running fever and went through some rushed second puberty, you know? Getting taller all of a sudden and getting muscles from nowhere, and Jake thought Sam had him on steroids or something.”

I nodded, “When I saw him at Roy’s, he was taller than Jacob all of a sudden, his voice was deeper, and he’d gotten bulked up. I caught his arm and it felt like he was on fire.”

Quil nodded, sighing.

“Yeah. Now Jake’s doing the same shit. He’s ditching me and Bella, Billy says he’s never home at night, and he’s gone through that fuck-ass second puberty shit. He’s like 6’3 now and sounds like a grown ass man! His voice is deeper than his dad’s is!” As he spoke, Quil was messing with the hem of his shirt. He twisted it around his fingers and stretched it between them, picking at loose threads and scrunching the fabric.

“He’s never home at night?” I asked, my mind putting things in place.

“Yeah, Billy says he’s never home at night and when he is, he’s sick as a dog.” Quil looked up at me, his brows drawing together, “Y/n, why’s that important?”

“At Roy’s, I only ever see Sam and his group there in the early hours of the day, and they always look exhausted. All of them look like they haven’t been to sleep, and Sam has mentioned that they work at night.”

Perhaps they are in a gang, or a cult, and the reason no one can pin anything on them is because they aren’t awake to see it.

Quil was silent for a long moment before he looked back up at me, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Oh, Quil,” I said, reaching out to pull him towards me in a hug. He held me tightly, his face pressed into my shoulder and his hands gripping at my jacket.

“Whatever’s happening, I—” he cut himself off with a shuddering breath, and my chest ached for him. With the arm around his shoulders, I squeezed him tightly, and with my other, I ran my hand up and down his back how I did for Bella.

“I don’t want to be next, y/n.” He said, his voice heavy.

It killed me to see him so distraught when he has only ever been playful and cheery. Now more than ever, I was determined to figure out what was happening. For Bella’s sake and for Quil’s. I didn’t want them to get hurt.

---

“Bella!” I call as I get back to the house. When no one answers, I run up the stairs and knock on her door. I hear a groan from the bathroom and turn, my brows drawing together.

“Bells? You know in there?” I ask, reaching for the handle. When I open the door, my sister is slumped in the bathtub with the trashcan beside her. She looked horrible, her face flushed and eyes bloodshot, and she was sweating despite wearing only a thin tank top and shorts in the porcelain bathtub.

I crouched beside her, pressing my hand to her cheeks and sighing.

“I’m going to get you some water and some crackers, okay? I’ll call Charlie and tell him to get some meds from the pharmacy.”

Bella only nods weakly, and I hurry downstairs so get her ice, water, and some Tums. I call Charlie as I go back up, telling him about Bella’s current condition. He agrees to come home early and get some medicine for her.

“Take the Tums first, okay? I’m gonna put the ice on your face.” Bella nods at my instructions, flinching as I put the ice pack on her forehead.

Charlie comes home after I get Bella back into her room, and I tell him about her condition.

He sighs, “Probably got it from that Newton kid when they went out to the movies together, Billy said that Jacob’s been feeling bad lately, too.”

Deciding that it wouldn’t be suspicious if I pried, I ask, “Really? What’re his symptoms?”

Charlie shrugs, “Fever, mostly. Billy said no vomiting, but his temperature’s higher than it’s ever been and it won’t break. Told him to take him in to the doctor, but Billy said it’ll pass soon enough.”

I hum sympathetically, “Quil said something like that’s been going around the community. Said that it started with Sam and his group, and is spreading outward.”

I wait for Charlie to react in any way, to see if he knows anything. He doesn’t. Instead, he just sighs and walks up the stairs to check on Bella. I sigh, reaching out for the land line and dialing Jacob’s home number.

The phone rings for a good minute before Billy picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Billy, it’s y/n,” I say, “I heard Jake wasn’t feeling good, is he okay? Bella just got real sick today, so i wanted to check in.”

Billy hesitates a moment before replying, and I know that he knows something’s up.

“Hey, kid. Yeah, Jacob got sick a few days ago. Says he probably got it from Bella’s friend at the theatre.” Billy’s voice sounds normal enough, but he hesitates a second too long between some of his words and I know he’s lying. Jacob does the same thing.

“Probably, the flu’s been going around our school,” I say, trying to sound sympathetic. “Hey, I’ll bring him some soup tonight. Might make him feel better, right?”

“No,” Billy says hurriedly, “You don’t gotta do all that, he’s been having trouble keeping stuff down anyway and—”

“It’s no big deal,” I tell him, “I’ll bring some food over for you both so you don’t have to worry about making anything or ordering it in.”

“Y/n.” Billy says, his voice stern. I blink, knowing that I’m too close to whatever they’re hiding for comfort.

“Stay at your home. Jacob needs as few people around him right now as possible, and I’d hate for you to get hurt or— or sick.” He tries to cover his slip up, but I catch it. Anger rises in my chest for a moment, fire flickering up my throat and I speak before I can stop myself.

“So he’s too sick to see the people who care about him, but not too sick to go out every night with Sam Uley and his gang?” I demand, my anger as sharp as it is misdirected. I sigh, adding, “Whatever, Billy. I’ll talk to you later. Hope Jake feels better.”

Before he can respond, I hand up the phone and set it down. I go upstairs and shower, getting ready for my shift at Roy’s.

---

Bella felt better after a few days. I figured whatever she had, she vomited it up or sweat it out.

Now, the two of us were out hiking. She had suggested it, since neither Embry nor Jacob would return our calls and Quil was under house arrest by his mom after she found out he faked being sick to skip school with me.

“I forget how much I love the woods, I think. Being away in the desert for so long made me forget how beautiful Forks is.” I tell my sister as we start to go through a clearing.

She hums in response, and I debate wether or not to set up camp to have a picnic here. Bella ends up agreeing to take a break to eat, and as I start to set up, she freezes and calls out to someone.

“Laurent!” Her voice is full of surprise, but there’s also a bit of happiness in it, too.

I turn around and see a man standing at the end of the clearing, staring at us. He smiles, stepping forward to come closer.

He steps into the light, and his dark skin gleams in the sunshine. My breath catches as he gets close enough that I can really see him, and I find that he has crimson eyes and ashen skin.

“Ah, your sister, I presume?” The man, Laurent, asks, and Bella nods. He speaks oddly, his accent almost Cajun but the way he pronounces things is off putting.

“I did not think that I would see you here anymore, Bella.” My sister laughs, but the gleam in Laurent’s eyes made goosebumps raise across my skin.

“I live here, so shouldn’t it be the other way around?” Bella asks, teasing, “I thought you were in Alaska now!”

“I suppose,” Laurent relents, and I take a moment to take in his clothes.

He wears large, heavy boots and black slacks. His shirt is while and ruffled at the collar, but unbuttoned enough that his glittering chest was exposed. He must be wearing a shit ton of body shimmer, I supposed, but that doesn’t account for his eyes. No contacts are that good, right?

“I just assumed that, with the Cullens gone, you would also be away.” Laurent says to Bella, his voice innocent, but prying, “You were a sort of pet of theirs, no?”

My eye twitches at the insinuation that Edward owned my sister, and I opened my mouth to respond but was silenced by Laurent continuing.

“The Cullens,” Laurent continued, his unnerving eyes flicking to me, “Do they visit often?”

Bella froze, but recovered quickly.

“Yeah, all the time. They were here a few days ago, actually.” She said, and I could hear the awful tone of alarm in her voice.

“Were they, now?” Laurent asked, and Bella was quick to change the subject.

“How are you liking Alaska? Carlisle mentioned that you got close to, uh, Tanya?” Bella reached out, holding my hand.

“I like Tanya, I like her sister more,” He replied smoothly, “Though their rules are rigid. Sometimes I slip up.”

Bella hesitated, “Ah, we all make mistakes, right?”

She paused when Laurent just smiled, and then quickly asked, “Did Victoria ever find you..?”

“She did,” he mused, “I came here as a favor to her, actually.”

His eyes swept back to me, and I held his gaze. He was as beautiful as he was unnerving, I couldn’t look away from him.

“She wanted me to see if your Edward was still here, acting as a guard dog.” He said, his voice velvety and soft, “She wants to make sure that all the pain he caused her is repaid.”

Bella swallows, “W-What do you mean?”

Her voice trembles as she speaks, and I carefully reach my hand into my pocket and hold tightly to the small canister of pepper spray that Charlie had given to me.

Laurent smiled, taking a step forward.

“Victoria is very upset with you, Isabella Swan,” he all but purrs, “Your Edward killed her James, she wants to torture Edward the way that she has been tortured.”

Alarm raises in my mind, and I can feel my pulse begin to speed as adrenaline begin to rush through my veins.

“However,” He continues, slowly stalking forward as Bella drags me back, “I figured that I would do Edward a solid. Kill you myself, so that you die painlessly, quickly.”

“What the fuck,” I breathe, “What the fuck, what the fuck, Bella, what the fuck is going on.”

Laurent blinks slowly at me, surprise coloring is ashen face, “She does not know?”

“Know what?” I demand, “That Edward’s some murderer and killed some girl’s boyfriend, and now she wants to kill my sister to get back at him?”

Laurent moved faster than any human possibly could, but he freezes when something snarls at him as he gets within three feet of us.

“I don’t believe it,” he breathes, and I whip around to see a massive black shape moving in the forest.

My initial thought is that it’s a bear. The massive creature is taller on all fours than I am standing up, and its footsteps feel like they shake the earth.

The animal stalks slowly into the light, and I see that it’s not a bear, but a wolf. The monstrous beast isn’t alone, however, and two more wolves appear on each side.

Bella has gone rigid, and I find that I’m holding my breath. Laurent moves with lightning speed, grabbing me and throwing me off to the side before sprinting away. I land on my back, the wind knocked out of me.

One massive wolf, its coat a dark shade of silver, stalks out towards me. My heart beats wildly, and I freeze.

If this is how I die, at least it will be quick, I think, holding my breath as the hulking creature comes to slowly stand over me, bending down to sniff at my body.

It rears its head, and part of me waits for death.

The other part, however, feels calm. For a moment, I believe that I know this creature, that perhaps I have seen it before.

And then it leaves, stepping back and turning to race off the way Laurent and the other wolves have gone, and then Bella is sprinting over to me and grabbing me.

We race back to the truck and speed home, bursting into the house where Charlie and Harry Clearwater sit at the table.

“Dad, they aren’t bears!” Bella yells breathlessly, “They aren’t bears in the woods, they’re wolves!”

“Massive wolves, Dad, the size of a bear!” I say, “They’re like, ’roided out wolves!”

“Wait, wait,” Charlie says, standing, “What?”

We explain what we saw, what happened. We get chewed out for being in the forest, but we are promised that he would have the department look into the cracked out, steroid infused, wolf-bear-thing issue.

When Charlie goes to bed, I demand that Bella tell me what the fuck Laurent was, and what he was talking about.

She hesitates, then asks me, “Do you believe in Vampires?”

---

I stare at my sister, a mix of anger, disbelief, and confusion swirling in my chest.

“You mean to tell me that the Cullens are fucking vampires?” I ask slowly, torn between laughing and yelling.

I can see how my sister believes her words, and I know her well enough to know that she would not be so sure of a lie.

“Yes,” she confirms, “And so was Laurent. His eyes were red, so he fed on humans recently. His skin shined like diamonds, and when he threw you, his skin was ice cold and hard as stone, right?”

Slowly, I nodded.

She nodded.

“This is all bullshit,” I told her, still staring, “But… but I believe you.”

“It’s fine if you don’t, y/n. I would understand.”

I shook my head, “It’s either I believe what you’ve just said, or there’s no explanation on why Edward and his family of freaks are so damn weird.”

She huffed a laugh, and I sighed.

“I’m going to shower and go to bed. I need to sleep on everything you’ve just told me.”

---

In an attempt to regain some sense of normalcy, I threw myself into my school work and my job at Roy’s.

My insomnia came back.

Every time I slept, I dreamt of that silver wolf, and of Laurent.

Sometimes, the wolf killed Laurent in front of me. Sometimes, it would chase me down and drag me to La Push. It never hurt me, though.

Sometimes, in my dreams, the wolf would just sit and watch me from the woods right outside the house. Sometimes, in my dreams, I would sit with it and draw.

Any dreams with Laurent were bloody, brutal, and woke me up with a pain in my chest.

Sometimes, Laurent would kill me. Sometimes, he would kill Bella. Sometimes, he would kill the wolf. Always, though, his eyes were red and haunting.

---

I heard from Charlie that Bella had stormed over to Billy’s house and demanded answers from Jacob. What she got, however, were cryptic non-answers.

“I’m enlisting your help.” She announced, bursting into my room as I got ready for my shift at Roy’s.

I sighed, “About?”

“You always loved Billy’s stories, do you still remember them?”

“Yeah, vaguely,” I answered, “It’s been a while since I’ve heard them.”

“Good enough for me,” she decided, “I’m coming with you to Roy’s. I’ll work on figuring out the shit Jacob told me and I’ll see if you know anything once I get it all in order.”

I shrug, “’Kay.”

---

I had gotten Bella seated at a booth in the back, the one previously occupied by Sam and his posse. After Embry had joined them, they had stopped coming.

“You need my help yet?” I asked Bella, setting a refill of coffee down beside her.

“Jacob said that he had already told me what he was, but that I just need to remember.” She said, “The only story I remember being told was about ‘Cold Ones’, and a treaty being made to keep them off Quilute land.”

I thought for a moment, knowing that this story in particular was familiar.

“I’ll come back when I remember what I’m trying to think of.” I tell her, walking off to attend to my other guests.

It’s not until the end of my shift that I remember.

My eyes grow wide and I hastily pull Bella home, rushing to the computer and typing something in, pulling up an article.

“They’re descendants of wolves, remember?” I announce, pointing to the article I had saved so many years ago.

My sister just stared, her eyes wide.

“They were the ones who saved us from Laurent, they were the ones who’ve been terrorizing the forest!” I say, triumphant in my memory, but fearful of my discovery.

“We have to—”

“First thing in the morning.” I promised, staring at my sister. She stares back, but nods.

---

Neither of us slept well. Bella was up and down all night, and I just stared at my ceiling for the majority of it.

When my alarm finally went off, I jumped out of bed and started to get ready. Bella was quick to follow, and we told Charlie where we were going, leaving before he could say anything.

The drive to the reservation was tense and quiet. Neither of us spoke; we already knew what we were doing and what we would say.

I parked the truck as Bella went to talk to Billy. He didn’t want to let us in at first, claiming that Jake needed his sleep, but I pushed past him and marched into Jacob’s room.

He was asleep, but the change was jarring.

For one, he had a tattoo. For another, he had gone through the same growth spurt that Embry had. His legs hung off his bed, his shoulders took up almost the entire width of the twin bed, and his body was more muscular than before, as impossible as it seemed.

Bella and I looked at each other for a moment before I shook my head and walked out. As I passed him to go back to my truck, I stared at Billy. He watched me go, but I could see the lines of worry and guilt in his weathered face.

Bella came out shortly after me, and just sat on the porch for a while. Jacob came out to talk to her, and I watched from the truck, waiting. After a while, they both came over to me and got in.

“We’re going to go explain everything to the others,” Bella murmured, “About Victoria.”

“Laurent’s dead. It’s Victoria that’s been killing people in the woods, not us. We’ve been hunting her only.” I watched Jacob speak in the rear view mirror, and I sighed as I started up the truck again and started driving wherever they directed me.

————

Author again! Editing things again (1/4/25)

So sorry for my absence; after I finish revising my published chapters, I’ll publish my next chapter!

#eclipse #new moon #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #x reader #twilight #werewolf #vampire #edward cullen #alice cullen #rosalie hale #sam uley #jared cameron #embry call #Quil Atera V #carlisle cullen

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apomaro-mellow · 1 year ago

Text

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 12

Part 11

@spectrum-spectre before you say anything, there's no smut in this one so go to sleep and read it at a more reasonable hour

In Eddie's fantasy world, he took off in a plane with Steve, escorted him back to Indiana, dropped him off at the door of the home he'd be staying at, giving him a very thorough scenting before letting him go.

But Eddie had work to take care of and Steve said he would be fine. And Eddie had gotten the hang of figuring out when Steve meant what he said. It wasn't hard. Whenever he wanted to be spoiled, he put that bratty lilt to his voice. They parted ways, Eddie having rubbed himself all over Steve before they exited the car, then again before getting to the check out counter.

Eddie was avoiding notice by wearing his hair in a braided bun and big sunglasses. He insisted on getting Steve a first class ticket. It was the only way to keep too many people from rubbing against him and thus making his scent fade sooner.

"Don't miss me too much", Eddie teased, looking over the rim of his shades.

Steve wrapped his arms around his neck. "I already do, Daddy", he whispered. He kissed him and then murmured against his lips. "Can't stop thinking about it. In less than ten days..."

Eddie put his hands to Steve's waist. He couldn't wait either. They'd be reuniting for Steve's heat. But they weren't coming back together just for that. While Steve was pretty regular and was 99% it would come when he said it did, Eddie would have Steve on the first jet to Texas on January 1st.

Steve thoroughly enjoyed the luxury of first class and landed back home with less than half the stress of a normal plane flight. Eddie had been a little zealous in spending on him sometimes, and it reflected in how much money he sent to Steve so that he could get a ride at the airport. Steve had specifically told him that Lucas could have picked him up and then he'd be with family for the rest of the time.

Eddie must've heard something different because when Steve checked his venmo, he was several hundred dollars richer. When Lucas picked him up, he decided that money could be well spent doing some last minute shopping.

"You know, I'm actually kind of relieved", Lucas said as they packed the last of the stuff into his trunk.

"Why?", Steve asked.

"I thought when you started being a sugar baby and junk you'd turn into a different person. But you're still Steve."

Steve smiled. "Didn't go through a name change last I checked."

"You know what I mean. You were still cursing out the ref at the game back in DC. And you got Robin a mug with a weird picture, not like a diamond encrusted dog bowl or something."

"She's gonna love the mug more than that. And the ref had his blinders on for the whole first half."

Steve didn't realize how relieved he was to hear that though, that he had retained the real parts of himself even though he felt completely changed by Eddie. Would he start to change in time? How long would it take? His reverie was broken when Lucas pulled into the driveway of his home.

"Okay, so Dustin told my parents you were seeing someone and Mike told them it was someone famous but they don't know it's Eddie Munson."

Steve felt his stomach drop. "Do they know that I'm?"

Lucas shook his head. "You get to tell them that."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me", Steve groaned.

The last thing he wanted to tell the people who helped him through the final years of high school and the first couple of college was that he was getting dicked down by a celebrity and was falling for him too. The Sinclairs were more like his parents than his actual mom and dad.

They didn't hold back either, bringing it up the moment he entered and they got their hugs.

"Dustin told us you're seeing someone?", Mrs. Sinclair said.

Steve snuck an ear twist as Dustin walked by with a grin, one that the Sinclairs definitely noticed but let him get away with. He had to be honest not just because of how important they were, but because they'd find out everything sooner or later. New traveled fast online and he was honestly surprised they didn't know more already.

"I met him one night at a bar. He covered my dinner when I was a little short", Steve said as his hands were kept busy helping with the food preparation.

"Sounds like a gentleman", Mr. Sinclair said.

Lucas and his friends were sitting in the living room, which Steve was thankful for. He knew they'd want to spill every last bean. He got away with giving them minimal info: Eddie's first name, the fact he was a musician, an alpha, and that they'd been on a few dates.

That night, he cornered Dustin and Mike and made them swear to keep their mouths shut about anything else.

"Lucas got basketball tickets. We should get something to", Mike said.

"How's about you don't get a tanned hide?", Steve offered, eyes hard.

Christmas went as usual, Steve spent the day of and day after in the Sinclair home, then returned to his own apartment where Robin was already waiting to celebrate New Years. He didn't get two feet into the door before she was feeling his stomach.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not-"

"But you could be. I know you and your cumslut tendencies. So I know you're not making him wrap it up."

"But I'm still taking my birth control", Steve said.

"You just know that if you get knocked up I'll have no choice but to move back in with you and help you raise this pup", Robin said.

"There is no pup. And I wouldn't make you do that."

"I would though. For you", she promised.

"I know Robs. That's why I'm not gonna let it happen. If I wanna have his baby, you'll get a six month notice before we conceive."

"Thank you for that."

They spent December 31st ordering take out from three different places and binging Empire. When it got to the time for real festivities to begin, they turned the tv to where Eddie said he was going to be performing.

"So that's your beau. He's not bad", Robin complimented. "How's the rest of the band?"

"They're great. I think you and Jeff would really get along. He's actually really into brass instruments too. And Gareth knows a bunch of nerd languages."

"You mean like Klingon and Elvish?"

"And apparently he's learning Atlantean."

Midnight came and Steve kissed her forehead and Robin kissed his cheek.

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

The next day, he was packed and ready to hop on his flight. Robin dropped him off and hugged him tight enough to hold him over until the next time they met. His ticket was first class again and when he landed in Austin, he was already feeling a tingling under his skin. He missed his alpha. Need his scent, his touch, the rumble of his voice.

Because of this, while he loved the other CC boys, he was a little disappointed to see them awaiting his arrival and not Eddie.

"The Ed-man had to finish something in the studio last minute", Gareth explained as they led Steve to the car.

"Thanks for picking me up, guys", Steve certainly preferred them over a stranger from Uber.

Grant drove the way back, taking them to a mansion that had Steve's jaw dropping. He was no stranger to big houses, but he was used to them being simply for status. They'd been grand but sterile, devoid of any personality. The moment Steve stepped in, he could see that wasn't true for this place. He could pick out each of the resident's scents, could see each of their quirks as he was given a tour of the place.

They saved Eddie's room for last and he found out when Eddie barreled down the hallway to meet them at his door.

"They're really good pack", Steve said as Jeff, Grant, and Gareth left the two of them alone.

"I knew I could trust them with you." Then Eddie kissed him about six times. "For all the missed mistletoe." Then again. "For New Year's."

Steve laughed against his lips. "You gonna show me the bedroom anytime soon? I'd love to lie down, Daddy."

Eddie bit his lip, looking nervous all of a sudden as he slowly opened the door. Steve wanted to take in everything. After all, a bedroom could tell you a lot about a person. But his attention was immediately grabbed by the bed situation and what was sitting on the bench in front of it. There was a thin quilt turning it into a canopy bed, much like the den Eddie had made in their hotel room back in New York.

Steve recognized the pattern from what he'd heard before. Jeff's handiwork. And by the foot of the bed was a small bench where a collection of clothes sat. Steve went right to them and took a whiff of the first shirt. It was so undeniably Eddie, he would have thought his neck was pressed to his nose were he not still by the door.

Then he picked up a tank top and caught notes of lemon and ginger. "Are these...?"

"I tried to scent a lot of stuff before you got here, the boys helped out too. I hope that was okay?" His hands were stuck in his pockets and his back was tensed like he might run.

"It's more than okay", Steve reassured him.

"And the den? You like it? I can always change it if you don't. We've got tons of linens here, all that can be scented in a moment's notice and-"

"Eddie", Steve put a hand to his arm. "It's great. Now...", he held up one of the garments. "Help me nest?"

Eddie swallowed and nodded. He followed Steve's lead as they arranged everything on the bed for maximum comfort. Once Steve was satisfied, he sank down into it, smirking when he saw the way Eddie gingerly lied down next to him.

"Your first time doing a heat?", Steve asked.

"I've been around omegas in heat before. Just not as the uh, let's say star alpha", Eddie admitted.

Steve turned so his back was against Eddie's chest and pulled his arm over him. It took Eddie a moment, but he got comfortable and melted against his body. The exhaustion from the flight and being up for hours finally got to him and Steve closed his eyes.

When he opened them hours later, his body was warm and he felt a wetness between his legs.

Part 13

Tag Team CLOSED

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie @sllooney @starman-jpg @oxidantdreamboat @xxbottlecapx @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord @beckkthewreck @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi @abstractnaturaldisaster @ellietheasexylibrarian @eyesofshinigami @dragonmama76 @greatwerewolfbeliever @chaosgremlinmunson @blackpanzy @millseyes-world @batxsignalsx @lilpomelito @goosesister @libraryofgage @aresthelostboy @royjaimie4eva @silenzioperso @she-collects-smut @lost-wondering-souls @eddielives1986 @marklee-blackmore

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #i literally checked the clock b4 posting #bc i know now i have the uncanny ability to post smut #and therefore keep specs up at all hours of the night #but this time there's no smut so haha!#there will be a healthy dose of debauchery in the next one tho

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russellsppttemplates · 2 years ago

Text

Papa loves you so much, princess (Mick Schumacher)

Mick and Y/N find out their family is growing

Note: english is not my first language. this is another long piece that I hope you enjoy! I have been talking about this since January, so this is ver long overdue!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's period and pregnancy

Getting up from the bed, you were fortunately quick enough to reach the bathroom in time to pour your guts out on the toilet, leaning on the toilet's side to support your torso. You were already up by the time Mick walked inside the bathroom, his sleepy expression with some traces of concern, "I told you I shouldn't have had that last piece of dessert", you pointed your finger at him through the mirror while you splashed your face, "you kept looking at it like you were a dog that was abandoned on the road, and then when I asked if you wanted my piece, I swear I saw happy tears in your eyes", your husband teased you, rubbing your back in a comforting manner, "do you want me to get you anything?", he asked, "just some cuddles in bed should do the trick", you muttered, allowing him to carry you back to the bed for a few more hours of hopefully uninterrupted sleep.

After leaving work, you stopped by the grocery store since you and Mick had noticed you were running low and running out of a few items at home, "we just had a snack break and the next part of the meeting should be the last one, I'm sorry I'm not helping you", he said over the phone while you browsed the aisles, "it's okay, handsome. You can still help me out here, though. I'm the cleaning section and I already have dish soap and the spray for the wooden cabinets, anything else?", you asked, earning a negative answer from him, "no, that's all I think. Next is the bathroom one, right? We are running low on toilet paper, and I used the last plaster yesterday. You only had one box of tampons in the cabinet so given that you are about to have your period, see if you need more of them", he pointed out, grabbing your attention to the matter. It should have started by now, you checked the date on your watch. And you were never late.

"We also need those tissues you keep on your bedside table, I used some today and I noticed they were the last ones", you could hear the smile on his voice, "alright, bub. I'll see you at home, have a good meeting!", you dialed off, grabbing the things he mentioned before looking at the pharmacy section.

You were never late, so it had to be this, right? Barring any other health situations, all of your symptoms aligned with pregnancy symptoms: you had been nauseous, feeling sick (and maybe it wasn't the stolen dessert's fault), you kept falling asleep whenever you rested on the sofa at home and Corinna had complimented the way one of your summer dresses fitted you, claiming that the neckline looked beautiful on you. And you and Mick had been trying, not with a whole calendar but rather just not using protection and seeing where it led you, and maybe this was it. Grabbing two boxes for the sake of it, you put them in your shopping trolley before heading to the till to pay for everything so you could go home.

When Mick got home, dinner was already on the table while you also fed Angie her own dinner, his kiss on your forehead coming with an apology for having arrived just in time for it, "no need to apologise, myself and miss Angie kept ourselves busy", you petted her soft fur before heading to wash your hands, joining Mick at the table and enjoying the meal.

"Does it taste okay to you?", you asked Mick, the taste of the broccoli seemingly off to you, "yes, tastes like this dish always tastes. It's very good, why do you ask?", he questioned, "I don't know, tastes funny to me", you mumbled, using your fork and knife to push the green vegetable to the edge of your plate, "maybe you got a bad one", he noted. That was another symptom, you thought, remembering when one of your friends couldn't eat her favourite meal while she was pregnant because she claimed it tasted different.

"Actually, I've been having a few symptoms, and they are all compatible with-", you were interrupted by your husband, "pregnancy", he smiled, seeing your brushed and stunned face, "I've noticed them too. You haven't told me you are craving your usual sweets when you're on your period, your boobs look even more amazing but the moment I so much as graze my finger in the skin you hiss because of the pain, you're not one to take naps during the day but the moment your head hits the pillow you're out like a light, and it's not common for you to have a bad stomach", he reasoned, making you blush even harder, "Why didn't you say something though?", you asked softly.

Mick shrugged his shoulders, "I just didn't want to burden you, or maybe I was keeping my hopes up and I didn't want to ruin yours, or point out something about your body like that, I'd never want to do so in a way that could be harmful", he answered apologetically, making your get up and go sit on his lap, "you could've said something, I wouldn't be offended, I think anyway, apparently pregnant women get mood swings so I can't speak for sure", you shrugged your shoulders, "truth is, I got some pregnancy tests at the store today because I also thought the same thing, but I wanted to do them with you", you looked at him, "but I don't know how to deal with this hope, like, I could just have some bug, but it is also true that everything checks out...", you fiddled and played with his fingers, "we take it step by step, if you'd like", your husband began softly, "and if you're not pregnant, we can keep trying", he explained, grabbing your hand once you nodded, heading to the bathroom so you could do the tests.

The plastic sticks were on the counter, Angie lying on the bathroom floor while Mick sat on the edge of the tub wirh you on his lap, "just a little bit more, liebling", he kissed the side of your head, "I'm sorry", you whispered, gaining his questioning look, "if I'm not pregnant, I got both of our hopes up for nothing", you explained, feeling his fingers lift your chin up to look into his eyes, "no need to apoligise, liebling. We just keep trying, it's not like we mind trying", he winked, looking at his watch to see the time was up, "I'm ready when you are", he said soflty.

You got up, picking up the sticks and seeing that both of them had the same information, "it won't be trying for a baby, but I've heard that sex while you're pregnant is a whole another level of sensations", you smiled at Mick, showing him the positive results.

"We're having a baby?", Mick mumbled, still not sure if he had grasped what you said in the right way, "we are, baby Schumacher is going to be here in nine months", you cried out, smiling as Mick cuddled you, his arms circling your before spinning you, "Angie! You're going to be a big sister!", Mick said once he put you down.

"I remember reading about these old wives' that help you guess the gender of the baby, and your grandmother did some on me for both of you and they turned out pretty accurate, I think", Corinna said as she sat in the outdoor sofa in front of you.

Since Gina was visiting, you and Mick decided to invite her and Corinna to spend the day together, Angie sitting next to her auntie while you sat next to Mick, "Oh, that would be fun!", Gina said as she straightened her back, picking up her phone so she could look them up on the Internet while Corinna started with the ones she knew, "they say that if you have a pointed belly towards the front, it means you're having a boy, and if you have a rounder bump and wider hips, it means it's a baby girl", she said, seeing Mick quickly ask for you consent before he helped you stand as he lifted your t-shirt, "what do we think? Pointy or not so much?", you did a turn around yourself, "I think it's rounder", Mick said earning a nod from his mother, "me too", Gina said, "but I've always had wider and rounder hips", you tried to reason as Gina wrote girl and a stick next to it to help count.

"The next one was that sweet cravings were sign of a baby girl, and salty cravings were sign of a baby boy", and Mick wiped the smug smile off his face, "I've been eating a lot of savoury stuff", you nudged your husband while his sister wrote down the tie.

Gina opened the lunar calendar on her phone while the four of you looked at all the details they asked for, "it's a girl according to this one!", Mick yelled way too close to your ear, "another point for babygirl then", you said, cuddling back to his side and giggling at everyone's exciting.

You saw and tested a couple more and, without realising it, you tried the last one without noticing it was the last, only for it to make another tie between babyboy and babygirl, "so that's it?", Mick said, not expecting it to turn out like this, "you just have to wait and see, you know, like all the people do because you can know for sure on the ultrasound", Gina teased him.

Once you got to the OB/GYN, Mick offered to go get you checked in at the desk while you went to find a comfortable chair to sit in while you waited, "final bet: are they a baby boy or a baby girl?", Mick said once he sat down with you, his hand holding yours to calm down your nervous thoughts. The ultrasounds always made you nervous, always wondering if everything was alright and as it should be, so having Mick there to support you and distract you was appreciated, "I think they're a baby boy, and he looks like his papa", you cradled his cheek on your palm, "I think they're a baby girl, and she has your kindness and empathy. It's just my gut feeling", he smiled, kissing the top of your head while he moved your conjointed hands to rest on your bump, feeling the baby kick, "not my chubby cheeks?", you playfully gasped, "what can I say? I think the Schumacher genes are much too strong", he teased you, looking up to the door when your name was called.

Entering the room and greeting your doctor, she asked you a couple of questions before asking you to lay on the little bed, the gel cold on your bump as she moved the wand around, "okay, everything looks good, strong heartbeat for little one and mother as well", she smiled, "I can see it. Do you still want to know?", she asked one last time, earning a nod from both you and Mick, "you're going to have a baby girl, congratulations!", she announced.

Your hand squeezed Mick's, feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head as you both looked at your baby on the screen, "we're having a little girl? Liebling, it's a little girl", he said, his eyes tearing up as he kept looking at the screen. Despite having feelings and guesses about it, neither of you didn't have any preference, feeling happy just with the idea that you were carrying a combination of you and Mick, but you couldn't help but get all goddy as you imagined Mick with a little daughter, knowing she would have him wrapped around her finger from the moment she was born. Even thinking now, she has him wrapped around her finger since you both found out you were pregnant.

"She looks good, there isn't anything that looks concerning. The measurements are all within the norm, everything looks good. Congratulations, mama and papa!", she smiled, "do you want copies to take home?".

While she went to get the slightly exaggerated number of copies of baby Schumacher (Mick wanted everyone that was important in his life to have one), your husband helped you clean the skin on your bump, "are you happy?", you looked at him, not seeing any signs of uneasiness but feeling his a little bit tense, "I am, liebling", he said, "but she's going to be here soon, you know? Little one is growing so fast, I can't believe we're past the half way point", he admitted, "I just don't want to disappoint any of you", he gulped, making you craddle his face with your hands, "My love, I know you and believe me, if how everything has gone until now is any indicator, we are going to have princess treatment", you smiled softly on an attempt to calm him, "thank you for sharing this with me, though. You can always share your worries with me, Mick", you finished, kissing his lips passionately, "I love you, liebling", he kissed you back, "and you little one, papa loves you so much, princess".

#mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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angelosearch · 18 days ago

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fanfic writing struggles rant

I'm in this head space where I have written so little lately that I fear I have forgotten how.

Of course summer classes and various non-writing projects/commitments I have been getting in the way... but writing used to be how I decompressed. Writing has seemed harder lately. I dread it some. I have trouble finding words and my rhythms are all gone. The prose is forced. It takes so long to get warmed up for a session that it is basically over by time I get there.

When I have a few minutes and the motivation to put words to a page they... they just don't have the "oomph" they did before. I hate it. I have two fics pretty much done and a bunch of chapter pieces but I can't bring myself to post. They just don't feel "good" enough.

I feel so uninspired too. Even the ideas I was so excited about before seem so dull, hackneyed or convoluted. I'm so down on it all, I'm even looking back at my past work with a terrible attitude.

I am so bummed. This might be the longest I've gone without posting anything since I started writing again in January 2024. It's so irrational but part of me is like "what if this is it?," like I've used up all my fanfiction juice.

I am currently in a rough thyroid flare up which effects... pretty much everything. There's brain fog, pain, inflammation everywhere, a whole host of fun symptoms. The worst of it is how it effects my sleep, which has a cascading impact on my mood and cognitive processing. I have no energy or brain power. And depressive symptoms, yay!! (oh, and it makes my wrist worse 🙃) Hopefully this will be short-lived. I never know how long it's going to be. If I need a med readjustment... It could be quite a while.

I'm going to try to read and comment a little more to try to get the fire burning again. At the very least it will challenge my urge to socially isolate... Which I think I've been doing lately whoops 😬

#fanfiction update #personal

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pentacentric · 2 months ago

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Sam Week - Day 3: Evil/Impurity/Childhood

"Dean?"

"...yeah?"

"Do you think...do y'think people can be bad? Like, truly bad?" Dean feels Sam's chin dig into his chest as he swallows. "I mean...can people be evil? Real, actual evil? Like monsters are?"

...

In which Dean does his best, he really does, but he misses the point entirely. But Sam knows it's not Dean's fault.

...

Dean twitches his way out of sleep, not sure yet what woke him.

Maybe it's that it's fucking hot in here.

Bobby's spare room only has a sputtering, clanking, tiny AC unit. The windows are too narrow for anything that puts out air that's actually cool, let alone cold. Half the time they don't bother with it; the weak, warm draft not being worth the noise.

Dean twists over, punches his pillow, tries to get comfortable in the sweaty sheets. Sighs. He almost wishes it was January, he'd be freezing his ass off, but at least he could pile on extra blankets.

He's trying to force himself back to sleep when he hears it. The noise that probably woke him up in the first place.

A thready whimper, coming from the bed next to his.

He quiets his breathing, listens. Unlike Dean’s bad dreams, which really only happen around Certain Events, Sam's nightmares come and go over time, with no pattern Dean's ever been able to figure out. Can never tell how bad they'll be, either. Sometimes they stay like this, not kicking over into anything serious: just some whines, a few mumbled pleas. And then Sam'll settle back down into sleep, Dean following him shortly after.

He hopes this will be one of those nights.

But his luck is out to lunch, and the noises from Sam's bed multiply, the whines and whimpers getting louder, more frequent, joined by choked-off cries and slurred nos and stops and pleases. He can see Sam's skinny frame twisting under the sheets.

Dean, sighs, gets up. Sits on the edge of Sam's bed, leans over, starts talking to him, low and soothing.

"Sam, hey, Sammy. It's ok. Wake up, Sammy...you're alright, you're good. I'm here, Sam. Shhhhh...time to wake up, ok?"

He doesn't touch him yet, knows better than that. Sometimes it'll set him off, start him flailing and kicking out against whatever's tormenting him in his dreams. And Sam may be small, but he's ferocious when he's scared, even when he's asleep. And his knuckles and elbows are sharp and bony. It only took one black eye before Dean learned to start with the talking before he tries to shake Sam out of it.

Tonight, of course, talking isn't working. After Sam finally lets out a shout that's loud enough for Bobby to hear down the hall, Dean takes action. Grabs Sam's wrists, both at the same time, presses him down to the mattress as he shakes him gently.

"Sam, Sammy, it's me, it's Dean. Wake up, Sam!"

He hates doing this. Knows it's terrifying for Sam to wake up from his nightmares restrained like this, held down. But sometimes it's the only thing that works. And leaving him lost in his head with whatever horror has its grip on him seems far crueler.

With a sharp cry, Sam bucks under him and his eyes snap open wide in the moonlight.

"You're alright, it's ok. I'm here, Sam, you're safe." He croons nonsense while Sam's gasps start to slow down, while his shaking fades to trembling.

"...Dean?"

"Yeah, it's me, Sammy. We're at Bobby's, remember?"

"...yeah..." Sam chokes out, and he sounds so sad and lost and small that Dean feels something awful hook into his heart and tear.

He lets go of Sam's arms, pulls the sheets off him, slides down so he's laying next to Sam. Sam immediately turns over and wraps his arms around Dean, burying his face in Dean's chest. Dean pulls him close, runs his fingers through Sam's hair.

Lets him cry it out, silently.

When Dean's t-shirt has stopped getting any wetter, he asks, quietly, "What was it this time?"

He feels Sam shake his head.

"I dunno. Don't remember."

Dean knows it's not true, but he also knows that's all he's gonna get.

"Ok, well, it's over now, right?"

Sam nods.

"You gonna be able to get back to sleep?"

This gets him a shrug.

"Maybe...will you stay? Sleep here?"

"Yeah, sure." He was going to, anyways.

Sam's breathing evens out, though Dean can tell he's not asleep yet. Just quiet, thoughtful. That almost worries Dean more than the nightmares. Introspective Sam at 2 AM can be...a lot. He's given Dean a few nightmares of his own after some of their talks.

"Dean?"

Dean suppresses a sigh.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think...do y'think people can be bad? Like, truly bad?" Dean feels Sam's chin dig into his chest as he swallows. "I mean...can people be evil? Real, actual evil? Like monsters are?"

Oof. Yeah, it's gonna be one of those nights.

"Yeah, Sammy. I'm pretty sure they can."

"Yeah...yeah, I think so, too..."

There's a moment of quiet. Dean keeps stroking Sam's soft hair absently.

"How can you tell? If someone's...evil. Really evil, not just an asshole. Not just crazy."

"I dunno, I mean, you can't always tell, I don't think. Some bad people seem all normal and nice. Are good at pretendin'. But I guess eventually it comes out, though, like in what they do or what they say. Or both." Dean shrugs. "Bad people do bad things."

"But what if...someone's just...fundamentally bad...like, inside, they're all rotten. Put together all wrong and dark and twisted. Are they still evil if they only act good, only say good things? If it doesn't come out?"

"...I dunno, Sammy."

"And...like, what if someone's not really an evil person, they're actually good, but they do bad things? Does that make them evil?" His fingers twist in Dean's shirt. "Even if they have like, no choice? If someone's making them? Or, like, if not doing them would be even worse..."

"I..I think you always have a choice, Sammy. There's good choices and there's bad choices, and, like, 's not hard to know which is which."

"I dunno. I think...some stuff is really complicated, you know? Good and bad at the same time, or, like, depends on what other stuff is goin' on around it." He lets out a long, shaky breath. "But, yeah...I guess some choices, they make sense no matter what. Like killing someone. I mean, killing's bad, right?"

"Yeah, 'course it's bad."

"...Dad kills. He kills a lot."

"That's different. Those aren't people."

"How's it diff'rent? They're not animals. Not all of them, anyways. It's still killing."

"Yeah, but monsters are evil."

"So, it's ok to kill evil people, too, then?"

"...I, just...no, Sam. We don't kill people."

"Witches are people."

"Sam...look, you've just gotta trust me on this. Ok? Killing monsters—it doesn't make Dad evil. It saves people. It makes him a hero. Ok?"

Silence. Dean knows he's not likely to get Sam to ever agree to say their dad's a hero. Too stubborn, too resentful.

Sam shifts in Dean's arms, shuffles closer, sticks his cold little feet between Dean's shins.

"Yeah, I guess." And then a voice so small Dean almost doesn't hear it. "...he wants us to kill, too."

Dean swallows. What does he even say to that? Even though he's got no doubts that there's nothing evil about hunting—knows that it's good, it's right—still...that's a lot for a kid Sam's age to deal with. Dean still struggles with the idea, himself, sometimes. When the monsters look like people, especially.

"Look, Sam...you don't have to worry about that right now, ok? Y'got a few years before you'll start huntin' for real. It'll be clear when you're actually doin' it what's right and what's wrong. You're just...you're too young to really understand it right now. Ok?"

He feels Sam stiffen in his arms, knows he fucked up. Dad pulls that shit with Sam all the time. Won't tell him things, won't explain why they're doing things, says he's too young to understand.

But Dean knows, and thinks their father does, too, that Sam understands some things far better than people give him credit for, far better than he should. Sometimes he already knows why their dad does stuff, just wants him to admit it to them, be honest.

Being told he can't understand something, that he doesn't deserve to know...that's probably worse than being yelled at, or even hit, for Sam. He definitely reacts differently to other punishments than he does being shut down, that's for sure.

"Look, Sam, I don't mean it like that, ok? Just, this stuff—I don't got it figured out. I don't even think most adults have it figured out. People've been arguin' about this shit for thousands of years. It's like...philosophy and shit. You and I aren't gonna be able to figure out, like, good and evil at two in the morning in a shitty little bed in Bobby's spare room, ok?"

Sam relaxes a little, but is still quiet.

"I didn't mean you couldn't understand it. Hell, you c'n probably understand it better than I can. I didn't start thinkin' about shit like this till, well...I barely think about shit like this even now. I'm too stupid to ever hope to figure it out. I just gotta go with what I know is right, y'know?"

"Shut up. You are not stupid, Dean." Angry, defiant, certain. It makes something warm swell in Dean's chest.

"Yeah, ok, Sammy. But this here, this ain't the kind of thing I'm really good at, y'know? I don't sit in the car thinkin' about deep shit. I think about what I'm gonna get when we stop to eat, or if there's gonna be any cute chicks in my class at our next school, or if Indiana Jones could beat Han Solo in a fight."

He hears Sam huff.

"But, Sam...there's one thing I know, ok? Dad...he's not evil. You were right, you know? Some choices, some of them ain't always so easy. I think a lot of 'em are pretty hard, probably. But Dad, he makes the best ones he can. He's good, ok? I know you get mad at him sometimes, but he's not a bad person."

"I know Dad's not evil, Dean. That's not what I was talking about. Not what I was sayin', not at all...."

Now he sounds frustrated, annoyed, and Dean feels a flare of irritation. How's he supposed to know what the hell Sam's talking about, when it seems like Sam's talking about like six things at once and Dean's barely talking about one?

"It wasn't even about him, I just...I just don't know if I..."

Sam sighs, and now he sounds so, so sad. Uncertain and kind of defeated.

"I just don't know, I guess. I start thinkin' and my head just goes round and round and there's just more and more to think about and it gets more and more confusing and I feel smaller and smaller and then I feel like I'm fallin' sometimes, an' the dark's all around me and it's huge, it's everything, and it never ends..." he trails off, swallows. "...or somethin'."

Yeah, or somethin', all right. Dean shakes his head, runs his hand up and down Sam's arm soothingly.

"And that's why you just shouldn't start. Thinkin', that is. That's my philosophy, anyways. Deanology. Or, no...Deanism, yeah, that's it." He taps Sam's forehead twice with his finger. "Can't get confused by all those thoughts if you don't have any."

"...Dean. Y'r such an idiot." He laughs, a little thickly, into Dean's chest.

"Exactly my point." He yawns deeply, pulls Sam a little closer, closes his eyes as Sam curls up against him. "It's the only way to live."

#samweek2025 #sammy #big brother dean #sam is canonically a deep little shit #sharing a bed fixes everything #at least for a while #fanfic #long-ish #sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural #samweek #weechesters #my fic

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junedenim · 5 months ago

Text

2013

beneath the boardwalk, part 11 (series masterlist)

do i wanna know?

warnings: depression & desperation

word count: 3.7k

I moved in with Jackson at the end of January. It was sudden and maybe too soon, but I liked Jackson and his place. I had known him long enough and slept (plain old sleeping) with him long enough to know I could live with him. I felt I had grown out of my old apartment. I had expanded so much like I had eaten a Wonderland cookie that the windows were bursting, shattering glass onto the street, and cutting into me.

It was a form of self-harm that unfortunately hurt Jackson in the process as well. I felt early on in living together that we weren't perfect matches. We didn't talk very often about unrelated things, only ourselves. My narcissistic tendencies were often inflicted on him, but he did the same to me, something I didn't mind because we rarely saw one another, only at nighttime.

It didn't help that he was still my agent. I shunned myself from writing a memoir again because there were unavoidable subjects that would expose me to him in unkind ways. I began writing short stories, thinking I would make a collection of them. Jackson found the idea to be dumb but was polite enough not to phrase it like that.

I started to think about my death in horrible ways. I was convinced I'd get pushed onto the subway tracks. I started seeing my dead grandmother around New York and thought I had developed schizophrenia. I wrote a story about it and labelled it as fiction. Jackson called it "depressing" and found it to read like a science fiction mess. Both were true and criticism I could take back when he was my agent, but not as my boyfriend.

I told Fennel and Kaka about the problem and they told me to go see a therapist. I didn't until I got so high one night that I was convinced I was going to jump out the window by accident. Dr. Varma was thirty, blonde, and had these ugly side bangs. The day after my first session I had Opal cut bangs, full-frontal ones, into my hair. They turned out rather well for someone who has unstoppable shaky hands. I got put on an SSRI, which stumped my creativity until I got used to it around March.

I thought about moving back to London but only ever told Dr. Varma this because I figured it would hurt every New Yorker I knew. In general, things felt aimless. Winter tends to have that effect on me. It's consuming and feels like my stomach has a parasite on it and my brain is being squashed between someone's hands. I was also 26, anxious, and terrified by the thought that I was suddenly going to be 27 that year.

It feels anti-feminist to say a man made everything make sense, so, I'm not going to say that, but certain people make everything make sense. Even though Alex and I didn't talk much, the thought that he'd be 27 too made things feel less troubling. Things made sense in his mum's car driving in circles.

I don't mean to discourage the power of my friends in this process. Opal comforted me more than anyone. I was often disillusioned with how the start of the year had turned out, mostly with my relationship with Jackson, and despite her close friendship with him, she was always understanding. She never pushed ideas on me. Never toward breaking up or staying together. She felt like Dr. Varma sometimes, her words pointing me in a certain way, but I never had to pay her for it. I always knew she just wanted the best for me.

One evening, we watched The Sound of Music and I cried in her arms while Christopher Plummer sang Edelweiss. I declared Captain Von Trapp would be my husband. I sounded the same way I did when I was 6 but he sang with a tenderness I love so dearly to this day. I found comfort in childish things. I realized how disconnected I had become from that part of my life, with the people who gave me life, the land I grew up in, and how much of a tailspin every chapter had felt. The most normal I had ever felt had been 10 years ago. It belonged in a world I never knew.

I knew I had to get out of New York.

I bought a plant in February. One that doesn't need much attention and can sit on your windowsill for a year at a time and not die. It made the act of having a plant a lot less beautiful but I felt like a proper starting point for taking care of things, including myself.

During this time, Jackson and I were still together. We would break up in April where I would be accused of using him, something I did partially do. For a long time after I felt ashamed of that because Jackson had been a person who had changed my life, brought my happiness, and had a beautiful friendship. Our relationship began out of insecurity of my singledom but was also built on the foundations of those traits.

I did use Jackson, but in the same way everyone uses a relationship to fulfill a part of their life. If I didn't need a use for him then we wouldn't have been together. However, I admittedly did use him as a rebound, something I confessed to him when I started going to therapy.

Jackson and I didn't talk much about anything other than ourselves, so we never got to the topic of what we wanted from a relationship. I never had any intentions of marrying Jackson, not to say he had any with me either, but he took it a lot more seriously than I did. Frankly, I didn't take anything seriously and that was starting to scare me.

I had maintained the difficulties of a romantic relationship with near-consistency from the age of 18 to 25, which is particularly rare in the 21st century, especially two people like Alex and I. I took my work seriously during that time and when the relationship fell apart, almost everything else fell to the side.

The proper levels for taking things seriously I'm not sure of, but for me, I didn't feel like I showed up, other than with Opal and Jackson. The only two other people I was as close with were an older gay couple that fed me once a week. I was dependent on everyone. Opal went through a lot of shit in 2012 that I disappeared away from and took Jackson with me. I knew I did it but I was too ashamed to make a change or even say sorry for it. Yet, she took our friendship seriously and still showed up for me.

I decided that after my birthday I would take a trip to upstate New York. I picked dates I knew Jackson couldn't accompany me and rented a car. I wanted to be alone. When I told Opal this she asked me if I wanted company. I thought I didn't need it but her question made me realize that what I desired most was genuine socialization.

Even though she hates suburbia and hiking, Opal came with me.

We drove for four hours up to Watkins Glenn. Opal drove us the first two hours out of the city and I drove the remaining four to our hotel, The Colonial Inn & Creamery. Creamery meaning it had a built-in ice cream parlour, which saved us from many late-night snack runs.

The State Park, which was the main reason I went, had these gorgeous waterfalls. Since it was early spring and the air held a slight drizzle, the park was fairly empty. We stopped at the gorge, right where the water falls down, not in some rushing force, but just like that drizzle of rain that surrounded us on a work up to it. It was gradual before forming a small lake at our feet. I squatted, dipping my hand in, and patting the cold water on my face.

"Should we take a break here?" I asked Opal, who was standing beside me.

She loudly sighed, "Yes. Please!" She sat beside me and took chapstick out of her purse. "It's very beautiful," she said while placing it on. "Thank you for taking me."

I smiled over at her. She wasn't elegantly dressed, something out-of-the-order for her. She looked tired from the walking and her jeans were dirty at the bottom cuffs. She placed her arms on her legs and I felt calm. "Thanks for coming with me," I said.

We didn't talk after that. We had talked the whole trail and we had many words left to say but we watched the water drizzle down the stone, not a sound made.

She stood and began taking pictures. She had begun dabbling in photography at the end of last year when her boyfriend bought her a camera. (Is that a gift most boyfriends get their girlfriends?). I took out my notepad, small and dainty, and a gift from Jackson.

I drew the waterfall. It was two circles to signify the gorge with a bunch of lines cracking down the middle. On the next page, I wrote, Eroding for a billion years until, one day, water spilled out, and here I am now looking at it. How many paths were walked until the water found this one? I'm not good a poetry, clearly, but it was a respectable description of what my mind was ticking through. I found it to be dumb, even when writing it, but paired with the awful drawing I had drawn and more importantly the photo Opal took of me sitting on the rocks, just me and the water. All together it embodied a piece of me.

On our way back to the hotel we bought peach Schnapps. We drank it while we flicked through the television. It undeniably felt like two kids who broke into their parents' liquor cabinet. We each sat on our individual queen-sized beds and I turned to Opal across the gorge that divided us and said, "I think you're my sister."

She giggled while swallowing, trying to keep all the fluid in. I could tell she almost said something snarky but she softened by the time she could speak. She was an only child and she said to me, "Yeah. It feels that way for me too."

After Jackson and I broke up, I briefly lived with Fennel and Kaka while I tried to figure everything out. I was writing more ever since Watkins Glen and Jackson, through his kindness and belief in me, set me up with a different agent. There was no promise to be friends, but we knew we'd run into one another again, especially because of Opal. We ended amicably and he helped me move out. We hugged each other goodbye and I didn't see him for a while after that.

I heard Arctic Monkeys would be headlining Glastonbury again around this time. The announcement had been made weeks prior but I hadn't paid much attention to any news, let alone my other ex-boyfriend. I sent an email to Alex because we were old losers who still primarily communicated through it. If Alex ever got Facebook I think we would still be communicating on it to this day.

In the email, I apologized for not sending my congratulations sooner and that I was excited about the next album. On the whole, it sounded sterile and formal. It came off as something a person he’s never met would send as congratulations in hopes he’d throw some money their way.

Alex politely wrote back a thank you and then asked if I had suffered a stroke because I used “your” when I should have used “you're.” I wrote back how I was rolling around in embarrassment from the thought of it alone. He wrote back a note of laughter. After that, things were dry and I didn't hear from him until June.

When the band headlined Glastonbury that year, I didn't watch. You can't get the BBC stream in America, which was beneficial for my well-being. I had decided to move on and not be so absorbed with him. Something I never really did. He was hard to avoid.

I had thought the moment I moved out of the apartment Alex and I used to share that all old wounds would feel healed. I had thought leaving New York City would dissipate all the aches in my bones. Every absence was fleeting. However, I needed to go somewhere that didn't feel so loud.

I settled in New Lebanon, New York for two weeks. It was cooler than the heated cemented city. The house I stayed in was an old sawmill with a garden and stream nearby. Since I was staying there alone, I only had make-believe to keep me company. It wasn't the healthiest but it made for good writing.

It also forced me to learn how to cook because there were very few places to eat. Alex called me when I was in the middle of making pasta. I had just gotten a new phone (my first iPhone, the 5) and had yet to transfer all the contacts.

I picked it up and felt like an old lady with my inability to pick up the call. "Hello. Who is this?"

I knew it from the chuckle alone. "We've really fallen out enough that you don't remember my name."

"Oh." I embarrassingly laughed. "Hey, you. I've just gotten a new phone. It's Apple. The new one. I'm feeling very posh right now. I'm cooking dinner."

"You're cooking?" It's like we had skipped thirty chapters. I had broken up with my boyfriend, started therapy, temporarily moved out of New York City, learned to cook, got a new phone, and learned how to do a cartwheel since we last talked. I had yet to register all of it too.

"Yeah. I've got a house too. Well, temporarily. I'm in New Lebanon, New York. It's a writing retreat. A personal one with no other writers."

"That sounds nice. You've always liked seclusion. You've got chickens too?"

"No. It's making me want to get a dog. Or a cat. Or maybe a cow. You'd hate it here."

"Why?"

"It's quiet. You're alone with your thoughts the whole time."

"Yeah. I would hate it." He grew quiet, like he believed I could read his thoughts across the call line. I probably could. Something along the lines of terror and isolation. He wracked through so much and tried to bleed the rest of it out.

I switched. "It's also home to the Shaker movement."

"What's that?"

"It's these Christians that don't have sex so they don't have babies and they've pretty much all died out but three. I've been to the museum here way too many times because there's nothing else to do."

"You thinking of joining?" He posed.

It would make for an interesting experience. If I ever ran out of topics to talk about I might vow to the Shakers in hopes of getting another book out of it. "At this rate, I might as well. Everyone is either married or dying out here."

"You can't do that,” he insisted. “It would be a loss to humanity."

"Me having sex?" It was crossing a line. He had a girlfriend and was my ex-boyfriend and I was lonely and thinking about taking a lifelong vow of celibacy.

He avoided. "Where's Jackson?"

I sighed and stirred a fork through the boiling noodles. "We broke up a few months ago. Nothing big. We're going to stay friends and all that." I said it not quite believing it, dripping my words with sarcasm.

He plainly said, "Sorry about that."

"Eh," I voiced, "what can you do? Que sera, sera is my new motto. I'm becoming a housewife to myself."

An ugly snort sounded through the phone. "Are you high?"

I giggled. "No. This is what happens when I'm left alone in nature for too long. I'll be joining a nudist cult soon. What about you and Arielle?"

"Fine. You know, I'm touring and all that." He didn’t talk about her with me ever, which was the appropriate thing to do, but I took it as a sign that they were like Jackson and me: never seeing one another and on the edge of a breakup.

"I know," I said. "How's that going?"

"Good. We're having fun."

"I'm liking the new stuff."

He was short and wanted to change the topic quickly. "Thanks." He was evasive. I don't know what that meant about the subject matter of "Do I Wanna Know?" and I won't write who he had in mind when his pen hit paper. But I have written the history here and you can deduce what you want.

"How's your new material?" He asked. I couldn't remember the last time I had sent him any of my writing. Our art had become separated. He didn’t ask for my opinion. I didn’t ask for his. I think that’s when our relationship died. We were so attached through our love of creating and not sharing that with one another was proof that whatever was left was necrosing.

"Fine, I think. Just short stories for now. I don't know what else to write. Nothing much has happened."

He outwardly laughed. "Seems like a lot has happened."

"Maybe. It doesn't feel like it." He was on the outside looking in, but from within, everything played out slowly, and it all went down in an inevitable nature.

"I get it. I'll leave you to dinner."

So, we faded away from one another once again. We were barely a blip on one another's radar. I went back to the city and lived with Fennel and Kaka until I was done "figuring everything out." I wondered why Alex had called me. If it was just to catch up or he had something to tell me. Despite my loneliness and desperation, I never called Alex. He was always the one reaching out.

I submitted the collection of short stories to my new agent and began renting a studio apartment in Downtown Brooklyn. I began writing freelance again to exercise my writing muscle and get the additional paycheck.

The night AM was released I listened to it and tried my best not to dissect it. My brain imagined who the muse of the songs but when the album finished I went to bed and decided that all it would be to me was an album. It was nothing more than a collection of good songs.

The Monkeys passed through a week later and I got a text from Katie that we should get lunch. I had a meeting with my agent then so she asked if I wanted to go to the show. I liked the idea of it. Of just being able to enjoy the music again, but I knew my presence didn't exhibit that. I went anyway.

I tugged Opal along with me and we went to Webster Hall. We would enjoy the show. I would get drinks with Katie and that would be it.

It was wishful thinking that I didn't even believe in. I enjoyed playing with fire too much for that to be the case.

I sat on a couch with Opal squished next to me. Alex sat in a chair to my side and we knocked knees with one another. "When I moved I found all those guitar picks that you misplaced," I told him. I held some drink and leaned on the arm of the couch. "They were behind the couch and under the bed. I found one in one of the kitchen drawers."

He plucked a smile and fell further back in his chair. "Yeah, I was never good at keeping track of those."

"I know," I laughed at him. "I lived with you. It was very annoying."

"I probably left that one in the drawer just to annoy you. I did that sometimes."

I crossed my brows and faked a sternness. “You enjoyed pissing me off?”

He took a deep breath and sank back in his chair. “Well…” He didn’t say anything else. Our conversation conjoined with the group’s and we never discussed how much meaning sat in that single word. Well.

As my time apart from Alex grew, I wondered how much of him I truly knew. He had these secrets he buried deep. Those guitar picks were tokens for me to collect. It was his own game he never told me about. He got a kick out of getting a rise out of me in the same way as when he would call me posh just to get an eyeroll. More and more I felt Alex to be a closed book that I only got to experience a few pages of.

The night grew later and we didn’t feel the need to linger. I felt the doors closing. I felt a need for it to be over. When we got on the subway home, I didn’t know when I would see Alex again. I didn’t know if it would be next year or another decade but I knew it wouldn’t be either of us reaching out. We would run in the same circles. Weddings, birthdays, babies, but we wouldn’t share those with one another. We wouldn’t be plus ones and we wouldn’t be giving presents to one another.

We said goodbye with a wave. I felt stupid for going in the first place. There was a feeling I had held onto what could have been for long enough. When I went to bed that night, for the first time in a long time, I didn’t think about Alex. There was no pit. I didn’t do anything wrong. It just wasn’t right. I was comfortable.

When I spoke with Alex, every word was spoken with a tinge of hesitance. I was holding myself back. I couldn’t live in that awkwardness and I don’t know why I was fighting for so long to be able to do that. I had invaded his territory for nothing but a few words and a drink. I had surrendered now. Happily.

a/n: well, sorry for the wait, followed by the shortness, but i suppose the length illustrates the point. the next part will be much longer and much sooner. i'm luckily in the writing spirit (for now). thanks for reading!

#alex turner #alex turner fic #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x oc #alex turner x reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you #alex turner smut #junedenim #beneath the boardwalk

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