#I listened to this last night and woke up with it still stuck in my head

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part I 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. (needs to be edited, so please excuse any temporary errors!)

word count: 5.3k

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The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed. 

“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before. 

“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother. 

Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious. 

“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the rowdy one of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.” 

There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger. 

“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.

Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early. 

Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast. 

“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free. 

You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie. 

“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home. 

Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. 

What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any “coming of age” rituals. 

Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries. 

‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed. 

“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience. 

He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you. 

“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress. 

“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind. 

You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand. 

“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you. 

“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.” 

Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling. 

“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you. 

Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door. 

The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead. 

“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you. 

“As they have been taught, your reverence.” 

In this room, here in front of this woman, Jessica was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years. 

Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down. 

“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.” 

For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.

“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection. 

“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.

“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you. 

“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful. 

“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before. 

“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door. 

“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you. 

Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face. 

“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you. 

Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?” 

You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one. 

“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down. 

“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting. 

It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat. 

“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction. 

It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight. 

You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep. 

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 

The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head. 

“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.” 

The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room. 

“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen. 

Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful.  “To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”

Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime. 

It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different? 

Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different. 

“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew. 

Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with. 

Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing. 

“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap. 

He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively. 

Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face. 

“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke. 

Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.

“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.” 

Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for. 

“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly. 

You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul. 

But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted. 

“Soon.” 

You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up. 

You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation. 

You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly. 

He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent. 

The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better. 

You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right. 

You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach. 

“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence. 

Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive. 

But god, you wanted to live. 

Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer. 

‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides. 

As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front. 

You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression. 

“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view. 

Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability. 

Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd. 

He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime. 

He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago. 

You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you. 

“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?” 

You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you’d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes. 

“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side. 

Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements. 

The two of you were communicating. 

“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?” 

His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you. 

It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days. 

In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child. 

Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him.  He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. 

The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress. 

You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in. 

You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother. 

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 

You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it. 

“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of. 

“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves. 

Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position. 

His tone felt off, like he was toying with you. 

“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin. 

You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this. 

You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime. 

“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge. 

This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.  

“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?” 

“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter. 

“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing. 

“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.” 

It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame. 

“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir. 

“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.” 

Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough. 

“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?” 

“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before. 

A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed. 

This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain. 

“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover. 

The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer. 

“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.

The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying. 

Animal, indeed. 

I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. 

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A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!

[rose-skunk]

Don't bend with the wind

Your love must not end but begin

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

So request kinda if not just sharing my thoughts in general.

Alex. My boy. What if reader is a civ or even another soldier in a different squad and the whole thing with him joining Farah’s forces indefinitely. I think this can really lend itself to some angst and that good old misunderstanding. Kinda leaning towards civ!reader just because the more miscommunication. I guess it’d have to be an angsty ending though 😳, but regardless-

Love your writing and, as always, feel free to change anything or do whatever gives you the most inspiration

World Caves In

PAIRING: Alex Keller x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Perhaps it would have been better if your husband had died - at the very least you could understand that.

WORD COUNT: 7.9k

WARNINGS: Angst, misunderstandings/miscommunication, hurt/comfort, vulgar language, abandonment?, Alex being an adorable husband, fluff, etc.

A/N: I was gonna make this an angsty ending but I got my period and thinking about that made me cry so here we are, lmao. Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

When you’d been escorted out of work by two uniformed men, you knew the news wasn’t going to be good. Sitting in the back of a large black car, you spare nervous glances as the vehicle jumps, its wheels going over the last speed bump. Your work building begins to become a fraction of a memory and disappears faster than your resolve. 

The men sit on either side of you, silent, and the only comment is to the driver as you all enter the main road. Swallowing, you part your lips and mutter, plain dread in your tone, “Is he alive?”

All you get is a glance from the front mirror and nothing more. You hunch more in your seat and stew in agony, mind far off on the topic of your husband. 

Alex wasn’t overly reckless, you’d managed to snuff most of that out over the course of the many years you’d expressed concern to him about it, but a large chuck of the blond was still too selfless for his own good. It was hard not to think the worst. 

From training to advising, your husband was always off on one mission to another, far from your quaint and quiet home here—where you waited day after day for even a sliver of contact from him. Alex specialized in so many things that trying to wrap your head around it was impossible.

Even now, you only knew the bare minimum. 

The soft-smiled man worked in the SAD division of the CIA. He’s an Operations Officer. Currently, he’s somewhere across the globe. 

Away from you.

Thinning your lips, you take down a deep breath and settle back into the seat, pulse flying. The men were obviously Agents—you’d looked closely at their badges when they’d first shown their faces at the front desk and had kept within view of your work’s security cameras just in case this was a ruse. When you could find nothing out of the ordinary, you had tensely asked them what was happening. 

They would be holding his dog tags if he was dead, you had reasoned, desperately, a flag. 

It was frantic, the way you had thought that up; how could you not be like that? Alex was the light of your life! With him constantly putting his life on the line, it was inevitable for him to get hurt, sometimes seriously. It was ingrained into your mind the way you would help clean his wounds in the middle of the night when the pain woke him up with a grunt stuck in his throat. The way you would sit half-asleep in his lap and re-wrap bandages while he told you to go back to bed half-heartedly. His hands drifting over your warm skin like he was cascading his fingers up and down the spine of an old book.

You never listened. 

“It’s late, Bug, I can’t keep you up like this.” His drawl echoes in your ear as you rub a heavy palm into your eye. Alex’s hands are both on your hips, squeezing the flesh just below your tiny sleep shorts. You have him sitting on the floor, back resting on the wall and shirt discarded to the side only wearing loose gray sweatpants. A long cut up his left pec is the center of your blurry attention—a wet rag held as you dab at it. Blue eyes narrow at you. “I’m just fine with doing it myself, y’know.”

“You’re being stubborn again,” you utter, the soft light of the bathroom placed at half-capacity to at least try and keep some of the veil of sleep over your heads. “I told you to wake me up when you needed it cleaned.” Your skin brushes his and Alex shivers under you, sighing breathily. “And you’re not keeping me here—I’m helping.” 

A small flash of that full smile, mustache flinching up, “Well when you look so pretty sleepin’ I can’t just shake you awake and tell you to fix me up.” 

You take your free hand and pinch his nose, yawning as he grunts out chuckles. A delicate glance is thrown his way as the rag lowers from reddened skin. Like a butterfly's whisper, you study his face gently; reaching and cupping his cheek with your palm. 

Alex’s lids flutter, heavy weight falling into you as if waiting for this—lips pressing to your inner wrist in reverence. You hold back a tired giggle and feel the corner of his mouth pull up when he feels it.

“All that talk, and yet,” pressing a smooch to his forehead you take your hand back and hear the grumble he lets out after, “you still like it better when I’m the one that’s working on you.”

“Can’t complain too much,” he admits slowly as his head leans back to tap the wall, “my wife’s hands are way softer than mine.” 

Alex’s grip on your flesh tightens when you sipe away the last line of crimson from the wound, tattooed arms flexing. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, watching his eyes slightly awash with pain. “Got caught on a stitch.”

“Ah, well,” the blond sighs, shifting “I suppose I can forgive you.” 

Laughing quietly as the house settles, you shake your head and rest your forehead on his. 

“Such a saint,” your lips utter teasingly as Alex smiles wide, his hands moving higher to your waist. You lean into him, stealing his warmth as your tired eyes flutter; feeling his thumbs run circles over the flesh of your lower spine. 

A content breath escapes you.

“Go back to bed, Sweetheart,” Alex whispers, lips brushing yours like silk, the bristles of his facial hair tickling you. “I can do the rest, promise.”

“Know you can,” your mutterings are barely heard, but the man seems to register them, sea-glass gaze incredibly soft. He chuckles at your sleepiness, one hand leaving your waist to capture the back of your head; weaving into your hair and gently massaging your scalp. You practically melt into him, limbs going slack, slurring out, “Quit it. Wanna help, Alex.”

His laughter shakes you, and with a huff escaping, you bury your burning face into his neck and lean into him, careful of his wound even in your fatigued state. 

“No offense, Bug,” Alex shifts, grunting as he easily maneuvers you until you’re laying in his arms, inked forearms under your knees and behind your shoulders with vivid images of grim reapers, snakes, and angels guarding you close. A kiss is firmly pressed to your forehead as the blonde smirks downwards, “But you’re about as helpful to me right now as an empty mag.”

You grumble, trying to disappear into his skin and letting him dig his stubble into your cheek. 

“If you bring me back to bed before you’re done,” you yawn and close your eyes, “I’m divorcing you.”

He laughs deeply into your ear, body shaking as he pulls back and sends you an incredulous look. 

“Hell, we can’t have that, can we, Mrs. Keller? I’d lose my damn mind.” 

It’s a long drive, and you worry through the entirety of it. A primal, whole-body-shaking type of fear. You’d built a life with Alex and loved him more than anything or anyone that had come before. Even if he was gone a lot, that had never dulled what the two of you had—your marriage was nothing short of something you would find in a fairy tale; flashing pictures on pages with vivid colors and tender glances. The very cover itself is made of the finest leather and inlaid with gold calligraphy. 

Please, Alex, you plead in your head as you remember his loving gaze—his back as he makes supper in the kitchen and hums to himself. Please be okay.

The men hold open the car door when it comes to a stop outside a very obviously abandoned apartment complex near the outskirts of town. You get out quickly. Looking around, you take in the overgrown grass and the broken concrete with a knife in your lung; holding back the flood of anxious tears. 

Though, confusion takes president. 

“Where did you…?” You turn to look at the Agents, but they’re already clambering back into their car and snapping the doors shut. Wide-eyed and slack-jawed you watch them speed off as a cloud of dust drifts into the air. 

Pulse echoing in your ears, you watch the vehicle speed down the road and disappear. 

Swallowing, you whisper, “What the actual fuck?” Turning in circles, no one else is around. A part of you starts to worry less for Alex and more for yourself.

They were CIA, you reiterate, I checked their badges—Alex showed me the standard ones. Could I have missed something? 

Expression nervous, you shift on your feet before your stuttering legs take you closer to the abandoned building, not really seeing much choice here. You could imagine the scene from The Wizard Of Oz—when the man pulls back the curtain and all is revealed. 

That said, you could really only hope that was what was actually happening to you and you weren't getting kidnapped or shot. Taking a deep breath, you clench your fists and enter the building through the open front door. 

It was in the wide lobby that you locked eyes with Kate Laswell. You blank, mouth parting as the scent of concrete and decaying furniture get stuck in your nose. 

The woman seems highly agitated, brows tight and jaw clenched. Her white blouse had been flattened multiple times by rough hands, lanyard swaying on her neck like Alex’s dog tags would. She holds a file in her hands; the paper bulky as if holding something more than just paper inside its manila clutches.

“Kate?” You ask, confused, “What are you doing here? What’s all of this about?” Taking quick steps forward you splay your hands as your voice grows more serious. “Where’s my damn husband?” 

You didn’t know Laswell personally, in fact, when you had first got a glimpse of her here, you’d forgotten the older woman’s name for a moment. The first meeting between the two of you had been at a CIA get-together that Alex had been forced to go to because of his position—some celebration because a group of ICBMs had been taken back into US hands after being stolen. Your husband had introduced you to the Station Chief over a drink with a hand on the small of your back.

But it didn’t stop you now from talking to her like you’d known her for years. Not when fear was flooding your veins.

“What the hell is going on?” You say harshly, glancing around the room for any sight of someone else here. 

Kate sighs heavily but wastes no time in speaking, her professional tone and serious face leaving your already fast-paced heart racing.

“Alex isn’t coming back to the United States.” Your eyes blank, staring into icy blue. She holds out her manila folder, jaw tight. Blunt. “He’s a deserter.” 

It’s like your entire being halts; your skin suit feels as if it’s sagging on your bones with the weight of a cinder block connected by hooks to the floor. 

What did she just say?

Opening and closing your mouth you stutter, lids blinking rapidly. 

“I…” Fingers flinching in the air, an exhalation from your nose sounds more like a wheeze. Kate watches stiffly, taking a look at the floor before returning her attention to you; emotion flashes in her eyes. “...W-what?”

“Keller deserted his post—I tried to speak with the Colonel but there’s only so much I can do.” Laswell takes a deep breath as you continue to go through shock. Alex wasn’t coming home? How, why? “He’s staying in Urzikstan to fight with the Liberation Force.”

“Urzikstan?!” You gape, but the woman continues. 

“For all intents and purposes, I shouldn’t be here, but Alex asked me personally to hand these to you.” Again the manilla folder is shown to you, but when you only glare and fight the fear and confusion rampaging in your gut a sigh echoes out and it’s placed on a termite-eaten side table. “Even communicating with you could put you in danger now that he’s gotten on the bad side of the entire SAD and CIA branches. This is all I can do.”

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself, hand coming up to capture your mouth. 

“If Alex re-enters the states—he’ll be arrested and tried in a court of law. If he’s not shot on sight for what he knows.” Kate watches you closely, shaking her head in pity. “I’m sorry,” there’s a strained pause, “but he’s made his decision.” 

As she brushes past you, leaving the folder on the side table, you feel your wide eyes well with tears—confused and horrified. But he’s coming back to me, right? Alex…Alex wouldn’t leave me here alone.

It was common knowledge that over the last years the blond had gotten more agitated at his line of work; the orders that he didn’t want to follow but had no choice. No voice. But he can’t just abandon you...could he? You’d taken vows. Had a happy marriage and relationship. Loved each other.

He can’t just…he can’t…

Your hands shake and you’re unable to stop them, gaze locked on that unassuming manilla folder. Kate pauses in the doorway, peeking back and seeing your sickly-looking face, the agony written in the lines of your forehead. Like the picture of a loyal wife being told her husband was never coming home. And Alex wasn’t even dead. Resentment begins to burn. 

But he made his bed. 

“He told me to tell you that he wouldn’t be angry if you wanted to leave him,” was all she said, a final knife being stabbed into your heart and being ripped out like a live wire. Electricity makes your back go stiff in an instant. “It would be best to never tell anyone that we met.” 

You were alone, full body shivers and bile stuck in the back of your throat. Cold sweat coats your palms, a sticky mess of your barebones disturbance. 

“He…” your voice is hoarse, bouncing off the far walls. “Alex left me here? He left me.”

It was easier to say that the sun had exploded and you were waiting for the last beam of light to incinerate you. Inside of your skull your brain pounds as, in a mad dash of desperation, you rush to the manilla folder and rip it open with vibrating arms.

Having Laswell tell you that Alex wouldn’t be mad if you…if you…the hairs on the back of your neck rise and suddenly you’re angry beyond a sliver of a doubt. It was insulting.

“Alex fucking Keller,” the paper opens to the bulk of your husband's dog tags and a flip phone—reports like his own personal file and the patch that he had once worn so proudly on his combat vest. Red, white, and blue dig into your retinas; it was old, worn beyond measure, but that little patch was something that was never removed. Not even to be cleaned. 

“The dirtier it is,” Alex had commented on the American flag patch when you’d offered to mend it for him, cringing at all the blood stains and dirt flecking off it as he slipped his vest off in the foyer of your home. “The luckier I am.” 

“I think the stench of it alone will frighten off anyone who comes near,” you had raised a brow, smirking up at him as he walked over, laughing. A kiss is placed on your lips, Alex’s bright smile transferring over to you as if able to spread from his mouth to yours that simply. You sigh dreamily. 

He pulls back with a tiny wink as you gaze up at him, cheekily stating, “That’s the plan, Sweet Thing. Gotta make sure I come home to you in one piece.”

You brush your hands over it and think that maybe it would have been better if he had died. Then you could understand why he’s doing this to you. Anger spreads into rage. 

Looking next at the phone and dog tags, all you do is shake your head and slam the folder shut, bitter tears tracking your face. You can’t read anything—can’t see his name imprinted on that metal that used to press coldly into your skin as you both slept in bed. You don’t care about the phone or the files. 

None of it mattered.

“He fucking left me here,” it’s like you’re a broken record replaying over and over again. “You absolute bastard, Keller!” Yelling, you press your fingers into your face, hands spreading over your eyes and mouth to muffle your enraged sobs. 

“You’re still alive and you left me alone.” 

Only the abandoned building echoes your pain; replaying it back over and over again as your wails echo around the lobby like a symphony of laughing jesters. 

—

The phone that Laswell had given you had been going off at least three times every day—morning, noon, and at night. You had stared at it with fury, knowing exactly who was calling even if the thing was displaying an unknown number. By now you had steeped in your anger enough that you had found yourself snapping at friends and family alike when asked if you were alright. 

You wished Alex was here so you could hit him upside the head for being so stupid. So you could hate him until you had the pleasure to love him again.

Urzikstan. 

You’d looked up the country after you had spent two days straight in bed, afterward manically cleaning the house with a glare that could light fires. The far-off place was a land utterly divided by war. Russian occupation, a terrorist group; the force that your husband had joined. Mass against mass against mass.

Brick meets wall.

And Alex had chosen to stay—without a doubt because he’d seen the dire situation and had used that damnable good heart of his to empathize to the max. Forget donations, humanitarian work, or anything else, the man had fucking decided to join in a Liberation Force. 

As much as you wanted to say you hated him; had wanted to slam your gold wedding band to the table with a good riddance for betraying you like that…you still had his dog tags around your neck, and the ring was still on your finger. 

“Too good for his own sake,” you grumble, shoving dirty clothes into the washer like they had tried to attack you. “Deserted the fucking CIA, Jesus Alex. Do you even think when I’m not around?” 

There were only so many times you could curse his name until you felt a deceiving needle of pride slither itself into your skull. You could describe Alex as many things but he would always be steadfast in causes that truly needed his help. He often told you that the best missions were the ones where he could do so much more than take out a target—he strived to help the individuals he met. Form bonds. 

God forbid something came in between the blond and the ones he’d chosen to give his loyalty to.

You slam the washer shut and stomp into the living room after starting another cycle. Stress cleaning was really not a good look on you—the entire house was without a single spec of dust but you yourself felt like you’d run seven marathons. Clenching your teeth, you go and drop to the couch, a grunt falling from your lips as your head hits the pillow.

Staring at the ceiling, you finally take in the utter silence of the house—not a home, because it could only be that if Alex was here—with a pained crease forming on your brow. The pipes spit water, and the washer grunted its mechanical garble…but there was no humming man making food in the kitchen. No blond hair visible as a head rests on your chest; your fingers playing in the locks that act like silk as you part them, the man on top of you purring. Body a weighted blanket.

“Was it really that easy,” you whisper to nothing, lip quivering. “Was it really that easy to stay away, Alex? I thought…I…” 

Eyes wrenching shut, you hear the phone right at noon again as it sits on the coffee table. And you let it. 

There were voicemails, no doubt, but you hadn’t thought to listen to those either. This small act of rebellion was all you could act on but for the simple fact that it also harmed you. Barbed wire steadily digging deeper as it kept your hands wound to your sides—neck plastered to the pillow as bright silver spikes glinted. You stare at the unknown caller who really wasn’t all that unknown and watch the screen light, vibrating over the wood in steady intervals. 

What hurt the most was that if he’d asked you to come along—become an Expat just for him—you would have said yes. You could find a new job, a new place to call home. Humanitarian work would have been at the top of your list and Alex…well….he would still be fighting, just as he always had. 

But at the very least you would have been there to clean his wounds. Together. You’d both promised on that altar to do nothing less. He could’ve asked. He should have asked. 

Alex…

“Urzikstan,” you mutter for what seems like the fiftieth time. When the ringing stops a few moments later the new voicemail icon flashes. Placing your arm over your mouth, you clench your hand so tight it starts to shake, whispering into your skin, “Fine. I guess you did make your bed. And…and I won't be there to lie in it with you.” No matter how much I want to.

You slip the wedding band off of your finger and place it beside the phone before turning and burying your head into the cushions; feeling more numb than you ever had before.

—

It carried on like this for three months. The ring didn’t move from the coffee table and neither did the flip phone; the file had all but been tossed in the trash as it sat teetering on the living room desk. You carried on as well as you could, all things considered. 

Work was a blur, going out with friends even harder to enjoy, and any enjoyment of hobbies or activities was dulled to an almost gray existence. Like a ghost, you wafted through experiences with dog tags and a withering appearance. Eventually, you just stopped going out unless it couldn’t be helped. You still bought meals for two at the grocery store out of habit. You placed blankets where Alex used to sleep beside you. You went to work. 

And still, the calls never stopped except for a brief pause after the first month. You’d thought he’d finally given up, but no. Back at it.

It had gotten to a point now where the device was automatically deleting all recent voicemails—too little space in the inbox. 

Angry curiosity was tempting you. It would be easy, you reason, to simply play the first message and listen. The worst part of it was that you’d begun to forget Alex’s voice and perhaps that was why, on that dead-aired Saturday, you snatched the phone and brought it into the kitchen. 

Firmly planting it on the counter, you stand behind one of the island chairs and glare, hands tapping into the wood. 

“I’m giving you three minutes, Alex,” you speak as if he’s still here, as if his form stands right behind you, head tilted like a damn dog with that infectious smile and those sea-glass eyes. “Three minutes,” your fingers snap the device open and you go to your voicemails; jaw tight, “and if you don’t hear you groveling, Keller, I’m deleting all of them and chucking this phone into the sink.” 

You go down the line to the very first message, small buttons clicking, and before you can stop yourself you press play.

It begins with a small moment of silence. A cough. 

“Hey,” he says your first name, not one of your epithets. Your brows deepen their annoyed furrow, but you can’t help the uptick in your heart rate. Inside your flesh, the sinews of your throat close in on itself like a balloon. “I…I’m guessin’ I have a good enough ass-kicking waiting for me since you didn’t answer.” A strained laugh before another pause. You feel acidic tears boil behind your lids. “I’m not surprised—not really. Done some stupid things but never something like this.” You can hear him shake his head, voice going lower in defiance. “But they were asking me to leave Urzikstan in a worse place than when I entered it. This Liberation Force, Bug, it…they’re good people and what they’re asking me to do…” Alex huffs, growling under his throat. “I can’t stand by that. The man you chose to marry, he can’t stand by that. They need me here. I’m not asking you to not be angry—to not hate me for this. I know I damn well deserve it.”

You let your tears hit the counter, head slightly bowing over. That was your Alex. 

“You need a leash,” your strained voice hits the walls, bouncing off picture frames and your husband's cooking utensils. The small pieces that make up the whole picture frame of your life. “God,” you huff wetly, “you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“I know I should have talked to you first, figured out some plan. But, uh,” Alex’s throat gets choked up, and you snap a hand to your mouth when you realize he’s close to tears. He clears his throat. “Hell, I should have done a lot of things, Sweetheart.” 

You can hear shouts in the background, calls in Arabic. The pounding of a door and a woman’s voice.

“Alex, we need to move! Everyone is ready—Barkov’s lab cannot be left standing a moment longer.” The hurried hand to the line muffles the words, but you hear him anyway.

“Affirmative!” He comes back. “I don’t have time to explain more, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for… everything. I’d understand if you don’t use the passport Laswell’ll give you, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to stop calling.” Alex laughs and your face freezes.

“Passport?”

“What kind of Husband would I be if I just let the most perfect woman in the world go without a fight, huh? I’ll be waiting until you call to tell me to shut the hell up and leave you alone or that you’re down in the airport waiting.” There’s a large sound of combat vests being clicked on—pistols being situated into holsters and a rifle strap slipped over a chest. Alex suddenly pauses and you stare at the phone blankly. “I know this is a big ask, Doll, and I know I’m horrible for even springin’ this on you when I’m half a world away from our bed. But I had to try, even if it was selfish. I just…I just really need to hear your voice telling me if I’m an idiot or not for thinking this up. Call me back soon…or when you run out of my clothes to burn in the firepit out back…I love you, okay? More…more than anything.” 

There’s a minute or two of nothing, just Alex’s ragged breathing, and then there’s an older man’s voice ordering him to hurry up. The line clicks. 

Your ears ring as it does, wide eyes dripping tears from your bottom lashes as your lungs chill over. Hand slowly flinching out, you ghost over the keys before clicking on the following voicemail. As it plays, your feet start to take you backward at a snail's pace, your spine flattering against the wall as blood drains to your feet. 

“Hey, it’s me again. I still haven’t heard from you—that’s alright. Take your time.” Steadying yourself with a hand, you look out of the kitchen and get a glimpse of the manila folder on the desk, its tan hide sucking you in. Pulse in your throat, you rush out to grab it as Alex’s voice echoes. “I know Laswell gave you the file, I trust her that much at least.” A sigh. “But even if it’s just to yell at me, please pick up the phone soon. Let me save some of my dignity and give me a chance to beg on an open line, huh, Sweetheart…? But I guess that’s all—gotta go. I love you.” 

You don’t play the next message because you’re ripping open the file with rabid hands, seeing exactly as you had when Laswell left it for you. Alex’s mission report; his patch. The dog tags around your neck clink together like a song, some brutal rhythm. 

“Passport?” Grasping the mission report you pick it up, flipping through the multiple pages of blacked-out words and more confused than ever. “Airport?” 

The words come out as whimpers, hands so shaky that the pages slip from your fingers. They slam to the floor in a flurry of bond paper and you curse loudly, snatching for the remnants futilely. Grasping on your hands and knees hitches build in your breath as your fingers dance rapidly before they slip across something distinctly not paper. 

Small, tiny, and blue. Laminate. 

Your very blood seems to stop in your veins. Pushing back one last piece of paper, you come face to face with a singular American passport. Gasping down mute breaths and licking your lips, you pick it up lightly, leaning back on your legs as if you’d just slammed your head into the concrete. 

“Alex…” you whisper to no one. 

Flipping the hard cover open, a small, palm-sized piece of paper slips out to your lap as your own face stares at you in image form. You blink for a moment before going to take the note and separate the ends. Formal script is inside, stiff lettering. Not your husband's handwriting, but you didn’t have to guess who’d written out these directions for you. 

Laswell.

There was a destination in fountain pen ink—an airport near the Urzikstanian and Georgian border. Seeing as Urzikstan was on the travel-ban list due to the turbulence of the government and terrorist threats, you wouldn’t be able to get there directly. 

But you supposed Kate had your back for that too. 

Georgian safehouse - wait for Keller there. It’s secure. More directions and then a small gap. A pause. Good luck.

You don’t know how long you stare at that paper—that passport. The first thing you think about is how could Alex ask you to do this. Uproot yourself with the snap of a finger. You wouldn’t be able to bring anything beyond what could fit in a few suitcases. No furniture, no large amount of clothes, or even sentimental items. You’d have to quit your job; leave behind family and friends to travel to a war-torn country.

But he’d said it was your choice, and he wouldn’t push you to make it. He’d said you could leave him if you wanted—keep all of this that you’d built here.

…But you’d built it together, hadn’t you? 

You think of Alex’s bright smile and his mustache. His tattoos. How he’d hold you so tight in the long hours of sleep that you half-believed he thought you’d disappear if he didn’t; nuzzling his nose into the back of your head and grumbling out nonsense. The way you could trace his scars and watch as he willingly submitted to your praise, delicate lips curving into sheepish grins as you place soft kisses on the raised skin. Red cheeks.

This place wasn’t a home without Alex in it.

You look over at the coffee table and lock onto the gold of your wedding band.

—

Getting into Georgia was a long affair of paperwork and screenings—not days but months of legal jargon that Alex had dodged entirely because of his desertion. By the time you’d landed in country, you were wholly exhausted down to the very marrow of your bones. You get through the checkpoints, pick up your bags, and look out at the entirely new world outside of the airport’s windows. 

“Okay,” you swallow saliva and nod carefully before looking down at Laswell’s directions to the safehouse. 

You slip the paper into your pocket after memorizing the address, tips of your fingers brushing the smooth surface of the flip phone. Clenching your eyes shut, you take your hand back out and go to try and hire a driver. You were here, but that doesn’t mean all of this was forgiven. 

After you find someone able to drive you to where you need to go, you end up standing with a quaint hostel ahead of you, home far behind. Gazing slightly nervous at the strange place you’ve found yourself, you think of Alex’s hand on the small of your back and sigh; caressing the cool metal of the ring around your finger. 

Walking forward, you hitch your bags over your shoulders and grit your teeth against the hot sun. When you meet the owner at the front desk you state your name and ask for a bed. 

The man’s eyes widen for a moment before he looks at something on his countertop, raising a brow in thought. Grabbing at a stack of papers he holds up a finger and begins digging. Too tired and overwhelmed to ask what was wrong, you just watch and rub at your face. 

“Ah,” the man snaps his fingers and laughs to himself, “here it is! I knew I had placed the note somewhere, Mrs. Keller.” You blink, confused, but the man just takes a key from the wall and motions for you to follow. Sparing a glance around for a moment, you slowly slink after, not really having a choice.

“I remember your Husband coming to me—the blond with the tattoos.” The owner looks back, making sure you’re following. He motions to his right side with splayed fingers. “Scars on the side of his head, to reserve a room.”  

Alex was here? How much had he done already pertaining to the chance that you would show up? 

“Y-yeah,” you chuckle stiffly, “that was him. Sorry for being so long I was…preoccupied.”

“You’re lucky he kept up on payments,” the man grumbles, opening a door with the key and motioning you inside. “My pleasure to finally have you, regardless.”

Entering the small and sparse room, you take the key from him with a thankful smile and a quick thank you before he closes the door. As the barrier thuds, you sway on your feet. Blinking. Breathing hard. You drop all of your bags with a heavy thump that echoes off the walls in a single instant. Heart pounding at everything that was striking you in an instant, you walk slowly back to the bed. You don’t bother to take a shower or brush your teeth; even change. 

You fall down on the mattress and pray you don’t have to dream about Alex sending money to this place every week simply on a suffocating hope that you’d come back to him. You pray you don’t dream at all. 

The phone wakes you up only thirty minutes later.

Groaning, you shift your body so your hand can snake into your pocket, grasping it and tossing it to the pillow beside your head. You’d never made it through all of the voicemails without crying, so you just deleted all of them and let the inbox fill back up again. 

Feeling the dog tags press against your chest as you form your chest into the bed, you shove your head downward and listen to it ring. 

Bring-bring, bring-bring, bring-bring

It happens in a flurry of a sleep-addled mind and a horrible desperation to see your husband after nearly a full year of no contact. You flip it open and answer with your nose pressed deeply into the pillow below you. Ears straining and pulse running like a starving cat after a mouse. 

Dead silence. 

“...Sweetheart…?” It’s pitiful how fast the tears flood you at Alex’s shocked and tiny voice. Tight breathing sounds over the line from his end and your other hand digs into your scalp. A small, cut-off laugh. “Hey…I—” 

You hang up with a vicious slam of the screen and let the silence settle again. People walk the hall; the sun dims as night sets in. This isn’t home. Dropping the phone back down to the pillow you curl into a tight ball and cry yourself back to sleep.

If you had to guess, you’d say the small curse was what woke you for the second time, though you didn’t register it until minutes later. That muffled ‘shit’ as a foot hits your dropped bags near the door. But then it’s silent again and your ears only twitch to the gentle sigh that brushes against your face; a thumb and forefinger caressing your cheek as hair is placed back over your ear. 

Perhaps the only reason at all as to why you don’t wake up screaming bloody murder is because of his calluses. They burn your flesh as they slide over it—as ingrained into your very being as your own heart is. As if Alex’s touch was another organ that was needed to survive. More important than a liver or a spleen. 

When your eyes slip open he’s leaning back in a chair he had turned to face you, built form shifting as the rickety wood creaks. No more than five feet away sits your husband, and all you do is suck in a tight breath and lock gazes with soft sea glass. 

Alex freezes at the same time, strong brow line peeling back and mustache stiff as his lips immediately thin. You both stare for a good while, a thread of tension entering the air. The night deepens. 

He speaks first, in the dense hours of confrontation. Your heart feels like it’s been stuck with a spear, vignette at the sides of your vision, and a blooming center of only Alex’s body and his messy hair. The scarf around his neck. The combat vest. 

Had he driven all this way to see if you were here? Because you’d answered the phone? But you hadn’t even said anything. Your head stays on the pillow, wondering if you were hallucinating.

“Hey,” Alex forces a chuff before he glances away, nervous arms crossed. “Hey there, Doll. Sorry that I woke you. I…ah,” your eyes bore into him, hand on the sheets slowly clenching into a fist. “I figured there was an off chance you would be here.” He clears his voice, throat closing on a trying laugh. “Guess I’m glad I looked. You should remember to lock your door, by the way.” 

At the sight of your rising glare, his tone drops, expression falling even more than it already was. Deep well of sadness grew in his eyes, lips pulling back in a strained agony. 

Alex’s gaze drops to the floor. 

“I know,” is what hits the air, “I know, Sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it,” you push your body up as his large shoulders tighten—such an accomplished and strong man brought to a squirming heap when his wife’s sharp words hit him in the chest. “What the hell were you thinking, Alex?!”

Heavy feet hit the floor as you stalk over, fatigue and tiredness pushed all the way to the back of your mind yet also enhancing your emotions. Bitter rage was sparking—held in far too long. Alex’s eyes don’t meet yours, so you grab him by the chin and angle his head up to you. 

At the sight of your red sclera and the baggy gaze he stills. Under your grip his beard tickles you, the soft grip of flesh that makes you want to wrap your arms over him and weep; make him promise to never leave like that again. 

“I…I wasn’t…”

“That’s the thing isn’t it—you didn’t think.” Sea glass floods over, going glossy; hurt etched into both of your faces as if carved from the same stone. But you don’t stop now, growling out as your skin burns. Alex isn’t sad that you’re angry, he’s sad he’s done this to you. “You disappeared, Alex. Laswell had to just drop all of this shit on me. I thought you had died.” You growl. “Do you know what that feels like?!” 

“Sweetheart—”

“Shut up! You let me talk,” he falls silent, hand delicately coming up to grab your wrist. Not to pull you away, just to hold you. To feel your skin and the heat of it. You sniffle and his eyes break. “And the worst part of it was that if you had just asked I would have followed you right then and there.” Alex sharply looks back at you. “But the biggest insult was that you thought I would leave you—that you even considered that.” 

Shock slowly gives way to a blank expression. He was confused, now.

Was that what you were angry about?

“You’re an idiot, Keller. Hot-headed. Cocky.” You shake your head, but a tiny smile begins to bleed onto Alex’s face. Watching you like you’d just sprung a million dollars on him. His grip slightly squeezes, calloused thumb running the span of your knuckles as you shake his head with your hand. “Damn nuisance to my health, is what you are.” Trying to remain angry is tough when he’s looking at you like that—starstruck—but you spit out, “It’s insulting that you thought I’d just give up on us that easily.”

“Most women don’t want a man who’s wanted for desertion, Doll,” Alex whispers, testing a smirk on his lips with his expression still strained. 

“Arrogant!” your voice snaps. “Not a single brain cell in his stupid little head.” You let go of his chin and grip the sides of his skull, feeling the dirty but still soft strands of hair before you huff at him. 

But he just looks at you and smiles, face smooshed. 

“...You really came?” Alex asks quietly. You fall silent and after a moment you deflate.

After the silence of trying to keep the sneer on your face, you let it drop, lips quivering slightly. Anger glints with pain. “I should hit you upside the head, Keller, for all the worry you’ve put me through,” you grunt, eyes flashing over every new bruise on his face—every cut you’d have to re-learn. He looks tired. 

Oh, Alex…

Before the blond can respond to you, you’ve captured the back of his head and shoved it into your chest; face burying itself into his scalp to bring forth that scent of dust and cologne. You whimper out as he grips you around the waist with just as much fervor, “Did you think that I would stay away?”

Alex says nothing, only the slight tremor in his bicep betraying him. You firmly kiss his skull and run your fingers through his hair, the both of you so tight together there’s barely enough room in your ribs to allow your lungs to inflate. 

But holding him was more important than air, a sentiment that Alex seemed to share entirely. 

“I’m so glad you’re here, Bug.” He mutters into your skin. “Feels good to be able to hold my girl again.”

You stay like that for a long time before you pull back and capture his cheeks, face pulling closer before you kiss him deeply. It’s not a fast-paced or desperate thing—no clashing teeth or tongue. That wasn’t what you needed right now. 

All that you needed was Alex. Your home. 

You both separate and the blond grabs the back of your neck, forcing you back so he can lay another on the side of your mouth; nose, cheek. Anywhere that he could reach as his mustache tickled you to a smile. Giggles worm out and you wiggle out of his grip to wipe at your cheeks, spreading away tiny tear tracks and saliva.

“Quit it,” you whisper, and Alex gazes up at you reverently from his chair.

“Negative, Ma’am,” he says, equally as soft, not even blinking. “Don’t wanna.” You roll your eyes, face hot. 

The seconds draw long of only watching one another before you shake your head and move your hands to shimmy out of the dog tags around your neck. Alex’s gaze locks on the metal swiftly, smile shifting.

“You’re horrible.” You huff, quietly, before shoving his dog tags at his chest. “Now put them back on.”

“But I’m not in the—” Your glare shuts him up. Alex clears his throat sheepishly. “Yes, Ma’am.” 

You nod and watch as they’re resituated around his neck. Right where they should be. When you take a step back to really take him in, there’s a moment where you skim over the state of his left leg. After all, the metal was barely noticeable in the dark. But when you do see it every little part of you shrivels up with confused pain.

Alex stands with a noticeable preference to his right and as he towers over you, fingers coming to grab at your face and slowly drag it back up.

A slightly apologetic look washes over him.

“I’m guessing you didn’t listen to all of the voicemails.” 

“Alex…” you slowly cut off. “You…” Staring at the metal limb instead of the real one, you gape. “...how?”

“Y’know,” he laughs, but you don’t find this funny. He notices and kisses your forehead, tapping his scalp to yours and saying after a contemplative pause, “I think it’s better if I don’t explain it. I’m alright, just...” Alex smiles cheekily, the spark that you love coming back easily as it shimmers in his eyes, “just a little more carbon fiber and aluminum than I was before.” 

You hug him tightly.

“I’m sorry, I should have come sooner—I was just angry, and I wasn’t—”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Alex sighs, grabbing you and maneuvering the both of you to the bed. He sits and you end up laying in his lap like that moment in the bathroom ages ago. “None of this is your fault, okay? You deserve to be angry. I shouldn’t have put such a burden on you.” 

You sigh in his arms, head under his chin and heart finally able to return to a steady pace. Licking your lips, you ask, “Does it hurt?” 

Sending a glance down, Alex’s lips twitch with a grin before it disappears. He hums.

“Sometimes.” Your hand grips his opposite cheek and you lay a kiss on his chin, caressing his flesh.

It’s a tentative kind of love. An understanding and a plea all at once. 

The blond leans back against the wall and pulls you closer, closing his eyes. Finally relaxing for the first time in what seems like forever. But his girl is in his arms, and he’s never been this calm.

“I have a home in Urzikstan,” he confesses lightly, fingers brushing your body and giving way to shivers. You listen, eyes fluttering at the vibrations of his words. “It’s safe—protected. I…want us to live there.” Alex nods against your head, swallowing. “If you’ll come back with me.”

“Yes,” your answer is immediate. “Anywhere, as long as you’re with me.” 

You feel his breath hitch, soft chuckles brushing your hair far better than any comb. There’s a small tremor in his voice as he says, “I love you. God, do I love you.” 

Your lips pull up, body growing heavy with a final sense of home.

“I love you, too.” Soft kisses and tight arms. Shifting tattoos. “But if you ever do something like that again without talking to me, I’m telling Laswell she has permission to put a bullet in your ass.”

His loud laughs shake your body, and you press your face into his neck to steady yourself; smiling.

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[reiderwriter]

🎱 Trust In Me When I Say 🎱

Chapter Four of That's What You Get

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Female Reader

Summary: What happens in Vegas doesn't stay in Vegas, and now that you're back in Quantico, you and Spencer decide to seek some advice.

Warnings: none!

A/N: My laptop gave up on me tonight, so this one was typed out on my phone, just as the fanfiction gods intended. This one was fun to write, though, and I'm so excited for the next few chapters! Hope you enjoy it!

Check out the series masterlist and my general masterlist. Requests are closing in September for 1 month!

Spencer slept all the way back to Quantico, not once budging his hand from your leg or letting you know peace. You enjoyed the warmth of his hand between your legs, but masking your expressions after your original wake-up time was like working on a case all over again. 

You wished you could just curl up into his side and sleep again for another ten hours, still feeling the exhaustion of your night out. When the PA system pinged with an alert from the Pilot saying you were close to landing, you panicked slightly about how the hell you were going to get the man off of you. 

If you pushed his arm away, surely they'd see the movement under the blanket and think you had been doing something way less innocent than you had. If you just stood up and let his hand fall from your lap naturally, you'd be stuck awkwardly standing in your seat with nowhere to go. If you woke him up, there was no way of knowing how he would react. These thoughts chased each other around your brain the entire descent, while he slept on peacefully. 

Luckily, the landing seemed to wake him up naturally. Without a chance for second thoughts, you grabbed and squeezed his hand under the blanket, pushing it so it wouldn't move too much as he rose from his slumber. 

"Well, good morning, Spence," JJ laughed as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. 

"Looks like someone had a long, sleepless night. What was it? Got drunk and did some math for fun?" Emily teased. Your heart was jumping out of your chest now, praying that he wouldn't make any sudden movements and would realise the situation he'd gotten himself into. 

"Yeah, I guess it was a long one," he yawned out, finally moving to stretch his arms a bit when he realised the position they were in. He made a small jolt, the kind that you'd only know was a reaction if you were looking for it, and luckily, you didn't think either woman were. 

He turned his head to you, tracing his glance down his own arm, down to your lap, and pulling it back up to your face before sending you a questioning glance. He gently turned his hand over so it was facing palm up, and you held it in yours for a second. He squeezed it as if to ask what was going on but you shot him a look that said "don't ask," and thankfully he was able to understand you. 

"Hey, Y/N. How's your head today?" he asked, initiating the conversation so that your prolonged eye contact wouldn't be seen as suspicious. 

"Pounding. Uncomfortably. What the hell did I drink last night?" You let go of his hand now and bought the leg that he had been gripping desperately in his sleep up now, crossing it over the other. The movement was large enough to mask his hand, pulling away, and luckily, he did just that, taking the chance you gave him. 

"Three tequila shots, five high balls, six Long Island Ice Tea's, an ill-advised Jello shot from a promoter on the street and… And after that your guess is as good as mine." You rolled your eyes at him. 

"Listen up, team, the Director has taken into account the hard work we've put in this last month and granted us some special leave. You're free for the next four days unless there's something urgent." Hotch announced from the front of the jet, letting you escape the eavesdropped conversation. 

You hung back as everyone exited the jet, still trapped into your seat by Spencer, who was taking his time moving and grabbing his stuff. 

"You two coming?" Rossi looked back at you, the last of the team to exit before you. 

"Yeah, if wonder boy ever gets his move on. We'll be right down," you answer for the two of you. Rossi nods and doesn't ask any follow-up questions, leaving the two of you alone on the jet. 

"What the hell was that?" You whisper-yell at him quickly, somehow still afraid of being overheard. 

"I'm sorry it wasn't intentional! How long was my hand…. down there?" You could see him blush as he asked, and you had to hold back a laugh, entertained by his meek reaction. 

"Practically the entire time you were asleep, Reid. God, I know we've grown closer in the last twenty-four hours, but you don't need to be attached to me physically, you know?" 

"It was an accident, I swear!" he moved away from the seat now, his hands coming up in a surrendered position. "Why didn't you push my hand off, we were under the quilt. They probably wouldn't have noticed."

"Because I remembered a certain somebody blabs in their sleep if they're moved or disturbed, and I didn't want to explain why you were saying my name in your sleep."

"Oh, you think I'd say your name, Y/N? Do you think I was dreaming about you?" he questions you, suddenly growing in the space, standing a little bit taller, more confidently. 

"Yeah, I just– I just assumed you were… YouYou had that vice grip on my thigh and…" you tried not to stutter, sending a stressed hand through your tousled hair. You had just assumed that his dreams had been similar to yours. That he'd wantes you so badly that, even in his sleeping state, he'd reached out for you unconsciously. 

"Y/N, if I was dreaming about you, I wouldn't be mumbling your name in my sleep," he said, matter-of-factly, grabbing his bags and making his way to the exit. You stood silently waiting for him to continue. 

"I'd probably call out for my good little girl instead," he smirked and quickly left before you had a chance to hurl the blanket in your hands at his head. 

–X– 

You quickly followed him down the steps after that and joined the rest of the team back at the bullpen to collect your things. Rossi and Hotch had retreated to their respective offices by the time you reached your desk, never ones for letting paid leave get in the way of them doing their jobs. Penelope had also practically sprinted back to her tech cave, and you could hear her cooing sounds as she checked in on her system. 

"Well, I, for one, am heading out." JJ spoke confidently, grabbing her car keys and making her way to the elevators. 

"I'm right there with you, blondie," Derek said, stretching out his arms. "Four days off does not sound bad right about now." 

"Are you coming, Y/L/N? Reid?" Emily asked, making her way to the elevator ahead of you. 

"I'm gonna finish up a case file so I don't have to worry about it when we get back," Spencer replied. 

"I'm gonna check up on Penelope before we leave, see if she needs a ride." She shrugs but doesn't question the two of you, and you wave them all off to the elevator. 

Once the doors are fully shut, you're left alone with Reid in the lobby. Putting his earlier teasing aside, you turn to him with a serious expression. 

"What do we do now? Surely we have to tell Hotch, right?" you ask, finally acknowledging your marriage outside of Vegas. 

"I don't know, I don't particularly want that lecture." 

"Yeah, he kind of just has a way of staring at you that makes you disappointed in yourself." You shudder at the thought.

"We have to start somewhere, though, right? And it's not like Hotch was one of our witnesses. He'd have sooner arrested us than let us do that." You mutter to yourself.

"What about Rossi?" Spencer poses the question to you, and you look directly up at him for a second. He has that look on his face that he gets on cases where his eyes glaze over, and you can see he's remembering important information that could be relevant.

"Rossi's third marriage was a Vegas marriage, and they separated pretty quickly. It might be useful to go to him first. At least we'll get no judgement." He looked up at you when he finished, his eyes soft with a hopeful look, desperate to see if he'd made a helpful suggestion.

"Yeah. Okay, let's go ask Rossi."

You made your way up the stairs quietly, doing your best to act natural. Luckily, Hotch's blinds were drawn, and he seemed deep in paperwork, so he didn't notice your unusual path.

Spencer led the charge and knocked on the office door quickly twice before opening it.

"Spencer, Y/N, I thought Aaron was clear when he said we had time off now. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He looked up at the two of you from his desk,and you awkwardly glanced at each other before turning back to him, unable to find the right words to say.

"That bad, huh?" He laughed up at you from his desk but still waited for you to talk.

You took the plunge first.

"We fucked up and we need your help,"  you blurted out quickly, unable to stop the rambling when it took hold. Rossi only raised a single eyebrow at you in question, so you powered on.

"We got super drunk last night and ended up at the marriage licence bureau and now we're legally married and we need your advice because this happened to you before, too, and we thought it might be helpful to ask you for your opinion on what we should do next." You hardly took a breath throughout,only cutting yourself off when Spencer grabbed your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Well, I'll be damned," Rossi pushed himself back in his seat, looking upon the two of you with fresh eyes.

"I guess celebrations are in order, correct?" He chuckled as you squirmed under his stare.

"We just wanted to know what the best way to go about this is. Should we register the marriage with the bureau, let Hotchner know, that kind of thing?" Spencer managed to ask, his fingers entwined with yours and his thumb drawing small circles on the back of your hand. 

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised," was all Rossi offered from his desk, and you snapped your eyes back to his. "But I don't know what advice I can really offer you right now that doesn't come straight from the FBI Handbook, and I'm sure you have that memorised, right, kid?" 

"All interpersonal relationships must be reported to your direct supervisor or team leader. Failure to do so could lead to termination or suspension if it is deemed to negatively affect your work," Spencer approximated the official guidelines.

"Here's what I will say. Take some time with it, but only a week, tops. If your problem goes away in that time, perfect, nothing to worry about. If it doesn't, tell Aaron at least." 

"So tell Hotchner in a week that we're getting a divorce, great, thanks," you tried your best not to sarcastic but you were tired and you were stressed and the words had a mind of their own.

"Hey, what was that thing you said to me a while back, kid? You never know when you're going to get the chance to experience new things at your age?" He smirked up at Spencer, happy enough that he got to feed him that line back from the case you'd worked in Atlantic City.

"Give it a week and tell Aaron. I don't care what you tell him, but only a week, okay? Because if you don't, I will. I don't particularly want to acclimatise to your replacements when you're fired for not disclosing this."

You nodded your goodbyes to the man and swiftly exited his office, making your way back down to the bullpen.

"I think Rossi's right. We should wait and tell Hotchner after we've got this annulment thing finished. And we still have to figure out who our two witnesses are." You let out the sigh as you turned to face Spencer, quietly engaging him in conversation. 

"Yeah, that sounds good. How about you meet me at my place tomorrow and we can talk about details and get the ball rolling?" he asked, looking at you with hopeful eyes. "Maybe we could see if we can jog our memories a bit as well, I have a few books on memory loss that I've been meaning to read recently, I'll get through them tonight and maybe they'll have some tips to help us figure out what happened." 

"Yeah, yeah, perfect. It's a date!" The words left your mouth before you could stop them, and you had to stop yourself from instantly clapping a hand over your own mouth in surprise.

"Like an appointment, something scheduled, not like a… not like a date-date. You know what I mean." He laughed at you a little before looking side to side, checking if anyone was in the vicinity. When he saw that there was no one around, he stepped closer to you, closing the gap between the two of you, and placed a small soft kiss to your temple before moving away quickly.

"It's a date. I'll send you my address later, but for now, you should go check on Garcia. Keep up our cover story, right?" He began walking backwards to the elevator  having grabbed his bag while you were stood mouth slack in surprise. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'll go do just that. Bye."

"Goodbye, Mrs. Reid," he said, stepping into the elevator, the doors closing before you had a chance to chastise him. 

You stood there for a solid two minutes, just staring at the place the man had been, desperately willing your heart to go back to beating at a respectable rate. When it didn't, you knew you were in trouble.

Turning on your heel, you ran down the hall as inconspicuously as possible before throwing the door to Penelope Garvia's office wide open. 

"Penelope, I fucked up and I need your advice." 

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[eternalxvenus]

༻ room for one more? ༺

summary: after many failed dates, you begin to give up on the dating scene until Sarah and John B give you an interesting proposal.

cw: smut 18+, sarah x f!reader x john b, threesome, oral (f and m receiving), face sitting, overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, praise, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, good girl, baby), brief drug use, lmk if i missed any!

wc: 3.6k

notes: thank you to the lovely @juniebugg for giving me this amazing idea, i loved writing it and hope i did it justice 🙏🏽

☆ obx masterlist ☆

The sun was setting but the day was still hot, a soft wind tickling your skin. You were lying on your towel, opting to enjoy the last few rays of the sun with Kie. JJ, Pope, John B, Cleo, and Sarah were all in the water swimming and playing around. You all had a rough week for different reasons and so JJ called for a mandatory beach day.

As you dozed in and out, listening to the sound of the waves, Kie nudged your side softly. "So... how is the whole dating thing coming along?"

Even though she was genuinely curious, you couldn't help the sting of embarrassment as you tried not to groan. "Not so great. I have a date with Kelce tomorrow, but I'm not over the moon excited." You turned to look at Kie through your sunglasses with a tight smile. "If this one doesn't work out, I'm giving up."

Her nose scrunched up in mild disapproval. "Kelce? I didn't think you'd go for someone in that circle.

Truth be told, you usually wouldn't. Even though the whole Kooks vs Pogues thing isn't as relevant anymore, some Kooks were still stuck in their old ways. "Me either. He came up to me and started a conversation at the boneyard a couple nights ago and asked for my number. Now we suddenly have a date at the country club," you sighed with a shrug.

"Even if it doesn't go well, don't stress it. You don't have to push a relationship anytime soon– you're still young."

You sat up and turned onto your back, deciding to take a nap while you could. "Easy for you to say. You have JJ, Cleo has Pope, and Sarah has John B. I'm the odd one out." Kie gave you a solemn smile but didn't say anything else, which you were thankful for.

A few hours later, everyone was out of the water, and the wind picked up leaving goosebumps on their wet skin. While everyone was drying off, Kie woke you up and said it was time to go.

You asked John B to take you home because you had plans tomorrow. As everyone laughed and joked around with one another, you couldn't bring yourself to be in a cheerful mood knowing they each had their special person within the group.

Once you were home, you immediately took a warm shower to try and let the warm water relax you. It did somewhat, but it didn't stop your brain from overthinking. After what felt like hours of tossing and turning in bed, one melatonin later, you finally were able to fall asleep and stay asleep.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

The room was unbearably hot when you woke up. You flung the covers off you as you wiped the light sheen of sweat from your forehead. You'd left the window open, and your AC wasn't on. With an irritated groan, you got up and closed the window. Wanting to cool down your room as quick as possible, you turned the AC on as low as it could go.

You checked your phone and saw a few missed messages.

Kie: have fun on your date, lmk how it goes!

Sarah: if you aren't busy later come swing by the chateau :)

Kelce: morning, i'll be there at 1 to pick you up for lunch. can't wait to see you.

You sent in your replies and got ready for your date with Kelce. Light makeup and a cute but simple white dress. As you grabbed it from your closet, you saw the red dress you shoved in the back with the price tag still attached. You'd bought it impulsively while shopping with the girls one day but had never worn it. 

It was a mid-thigh deep cherry red with a slit and showed off your cleavage perfectly—according to Sarah, at least. It had never seen the outside of your closet, no matter how many times your friends tried to make you wear it. You never felt like you could truly pull it off.

There were five minutes to spare when you'd finally finished up. As you were spraying your perfume a text from Kelce came in letting you know he was outside. You grabbed your purse and met him outside, where he sat in his car.

A small sigh left your lips. He didn't bother to meet you at the door. Perhaps he wasn't the gentleman type. You got into his expensive car, the leather seat cool from the AC blasting on high.

"Ready to go?" He asked, giving you a once over. You nodded softly and gave him a small smile. Neither of you spoke much the entire ride there. You sat on your phone checking social media, playing games, anything to pass the time.

Kelce parked in front of the country club and beckoned you to follow him. He led you to the outdoor patio that connected to a restaurant. After a waiter sat you both and you ordered drinks, Kelce started the conversation.

"So, is this your first time at the country club?."

"Uh... yeah, it is."

"What do you think of it?" he said, taking a sip of the drink that had been placed in front of him.

You shrugged, "It's nice, I can see why people come here." There was a beat of silence and you knew this date wasn't going to be the best.

"Honestly, I'm surprised we're here right now. I never thought I'd be taking a pogue on a date at the country club. But you're really hot, so I've got no complaints."

His statement made you internally roll your eyes. "Right..."

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

You were back home, feet aching slightly from your shoes, and the heat was making you feel groggy and gross. The date was not good. All Kelce could talk about was himself, the kook life, and how he wanted to bring you to a party at Topper's next week. You declined. He also made slick remarks about you being a pogue which pissed you off.

You: hey sarah, i'll be over in a bit.

She sent a thumbs to your message. You got in your car and made your way to the chateau. When you pulled up, you saw John B out by the deck. 

Inside you could see Sarah walking around so you went in to greet her.

"Hey, I'm here," you said knocking on the door as you walked inside. 

"Hey! Glad you could make it." She sat the plates she was holding into the cabinet and motioned for you to sit. She came over and sat next to you on the couch as you both got comfortable. "Kie mentioned you had a date… how did it go?"

You picked at your nails and shook your head. "Not too great."

Sarah hummed sympathetically. "Well, Kelce isn’t as interesting as he makes himself out to be." You both laughed as you nodded in agreement.

You laid back on the couch letting your head fall back. "When is everyone else coming?" assuming Sarah or John B had something planned for everyone tonight.

"Actually, I only invited you. John B and I wanted to talk to you about something," she sighed. You felt nervousness bloom in your stomach as she stood up. "I'm gonna go get John B, just sit tight."

While waiting for them to come back your mind was wandering, not sure what could be so important that they had to talk to you together and in person. The door swung open and Sarah walked back in with John B right behind her. No one spoke as they pulled up two chairs and sat in front of you on the couch. John B gave a soft smile which helped your nerves just a little.

"Okay so," Sarah spoke up. "We weren't really sure how to go about this so just bear with me here. You're one of our best friends and we've spent a lot of time together over the years..."

You could hear your heart beating in your ears, almost drowning out Sarah's voice. Please don't tell me they don't want to be friends anymore, you thought to yourself.

"Anyways, me and John B have been talking. We both find you attractive obviously. And we wanted to invite you to bed with us! Like a threesome." Sarah had a smile on her face and your eyes widened.

"W-what? You want to have a threesome? With me?" They both nodded.

"Basically, me and Sarah had been talking and we asked each other who we'd want to hook up with if we were single. To our surprise we both said you, so we figured why not just ask."

Your face felt burning hot with shyness and embarrassment. You'd only had sex one time and it wasn't all that great. You and your boyfriend at the time had wanted to lose your virginities to each other but neither of you knew what you were doing.

Sarah's hand grabbed yours and pulled you out of your swarming thoughts. "You don't have to answer right now." She was caressing the back of your hand with her thumb reassuringly. "Go home and just think about it. We'll be waiting patiently for your answer— no pressure at all, okay?"

The air in the room felt a little less heavy. You knew they wouldn't force you or be mad if you decided not to. "Okay," you said with a small smile.

They both hugged you, walked you to your car, and waved you off home. On the ride back, all you could think about was whether you should accept or not. You weren't experienced and didn't want to disappoint them.

You were laying in bed but once again couldn't sleep. You decided to take a few hits of the weed pen JJ had given you a while back, it's lasted you a while since you only use it when you can't sleep or need to relax.

Once you felt the high encompassing your mind you laid down and closed your eyes. Your mind drifted to the thought of being in bed with Sarah and John B. With that, you fell asleep.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

It had been three days since your threesome invitation. You had thought about it a lot. Even though you hadn't spoken to Sarah and John B directly, you all still talked in the group chat with everyone else like normal.

It was still early in the morning when you texted Sarah.

You: hey are you and John B up yet?

20 minutes later, you got a reply.

Sarah: good morning! i am but he's still sleeping lol. what's up?

You: i've given it some thought and i wanna do this but are you sure? i'm not the most experienced when it comes to all that

Sarah: i'm so happy! thank you for trusting us and don't worry we'll both be there to guide you. are you free tonight?

You said yes and she told you to come over at 7. That gave you 11 hours to completely freak out before heading over there.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

The warm air from outside blew into your car as you sat outside the chateau, trying to give yourself a mini pep talk. They suggested that you come in loungewear, so you wore shorts and a cropped tank top with no bra, all things considered.

You went up and knocked on the door and waited. John B came and greeted you with a hug. He didn't hide the fact that he was taking in your body. 

"Hey, come in. Sarah's finishing up in the shower so she should be out in a few minutes." With a brief nod, you followed him inside.

It was so weird, normally the chateau felt like a second home. You'd help yourself to whatever and never felt out of place. This time it was the complete opposite. You didn't want to touch anything or sit without someone telling you to. You felt like a guest, who was visiting for the first time.

John B sensed your nervousness and gave you a smirk. "Don't get all shy now sweetheart, we haven't even started. Speaking of which, is there anything you wanna do? We could have some takeout, watch a movie, anything really."

You gave him a puzzled look. "I thought we were going to... you know."

"I love your enthusiasm," he chuckled. "We are, but Sarah and I both thought it'd be best to ease into it rather than just jump right in. We want this to be as comfortable as possible for you."

It was the little things like this that reminded you that these are your best friends. They knew you like the back of their hand and wanted this to be enjoyable for you and them. "A movie sounds nice," you said with a smile.

A little while later you were all sat on the couch watching some random movie that you'd picked. It wasn't all that good but you were still tuned in. Your eyes glanced away from the TV when you felt Sarah's hand start grazing the inside of your thigh. She was still facing forward almost as if nothing was happening. You looked back at the TV and spread your legs a little wider.

It was summer, entirely too hot for any blankets— even with the cool air of the AC blowing— so if John B looked, he'd see what was happening. The light, teasing touches went on for a few more minutes and you could feel yourself getting more and more worked up. You were ready to break the silence and ask for more until you felt John B's lips on your neck. A soft gasp slipped past your lips as your eyes fluttered closed.

"This okay?" he muttered against your neck, and you nodded. "Use your words, pretty girl."

You managed to whimper out a soft 'Yes' which encouraged them both to keep going. Sarah's hand moved higher, lightly rubbing you through your shorts. A moan slipped from your pouty lips at the contact and you tried grinding your hips against her hand for more stimulation. "Let's go to the bed," Sarah whispered.

The short walk was filled with little kisses and light touches, none of you wanted to stop even for a second. Sarah instructed you to take off your clothes and lay on the bed. She and John B did the same as she sat behind you and John B positioned himself in between your thighs.

"Fuck... your pussy is dripping." You attempt to close your legs but he has a strong grip on your thighs. "Don't try and hide yourself, I wanna see everything."

Sarah brought her hands up to massage your tits, your nipples feeling painfully hard. "John B is gonna use his mouth to make you feel good, okay?"

"Okay– oh!" He wasted no time licking a long stripe to collect your arousal on his tongue.

"How does she taste baby?" Sarah asked. You could hear the lust and neediness in her voice. "She's so fucking sweet, like candy." John B couldn't help but moan as he continued to move his tongue in and out of your hole. You felt one of Sarah's hands leave your breast to touch herself behind you. Her soft moans make you even more turned on.

John B brought his mouth to your clit and sucked hard. That was all it took to have you falling over the edge in pleasure. One hand squeezed Sarah's arm while the other tugged on John B's brown tresses. Your moans filled the room as you rode out your first orgasm of the night.

Sarah replaced your spot in front of John B and once again he wasted no time lapping at her essence. Once she reached her peak John B didn't stop he was pushing her into overstimulation and instructed you to hold her legs open.

"John B! Please– ohmygod– it's too much!" she tried to push his head away but he didn't budge until he pulled another orgasm from her. You watched in amazement as she started to squirt making a mess of the bed and his face. He wore your combined juices proudly, not bothering to wipe any of it off. 

You leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Fuck Sarah you look so hot like this, squirting all over the place, being so messy." She whimpered at your words as John B finally gave her some reprieve.

She pulled you down so your lips collided with hers in a heated bruising kiss. Her tongue swiped across your lip and made its way into your mouth massaging your tongue.

In the corner of your eye, you saw John B stroking his hard cock slowly. Sarah noticed as well and gave you a smirk. "Let's show him how thankful you are for making you cum."

John B positioned himself up against the headboard and Sarah brought you face to face with his length. "Grab the base and take him into your mouth. He likes it really messy," She whispered while keeping her gaze on him. You followed her instructions and did your best to please him.

Once you'd taken as much as you could into your mouth, a light gag leaving your throat, he groaned. "Fuuuuck, that's it, take it all in that tight little throat." You went at your own pace for a bit, then Sarah took over gagging you on his cock at a brutal pace. Your eyes watered and there was spit and drool all over your chin and his pelvis. John B's thighs tensed and without warning his load filled your throat forcing you to swallow it all. 

You coughed a bit and Sarah rubbed your back soothingly while you and John B caught his breath. "You did so good baby." She went to kiss your neck and caress your body.

The praise did things to you. "Thank you." John B pulled you against him and kissed you deeply. "Do you wanna keep going, sweetheart?" John B muttered against your lips. The room felt so hot in combination with all the body heat and the summer air. You were definitely spent, but you wanted to go again. "I want you inside, please."

He nodded and moved you down to straddle him. Sarah moved to sit on his face, facing you. She moaned, feeling his tongue on her clit again. You sink down on his length feeling completely and utterly full. Sarah pulled you in for a kiss as you rocked your hips in a slow rhythm.

The stimulation on your clit from grinding felt delicious, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. One look at Sarah and you could tell she was close too. "I wanna cum together," you whispered against her lips. "Okay, together." she nodded. John B pushed his hips up to get impossibly deeper and gave a harsh such on Sarah's clit, pushing you both over the edge.

You both collapsed onto the bed, your body completely worn out. Sarah and John B left kisses and comforting touches anywhere they could, telling you how well you did and that they were so proud. Their voices faded away as sleep overtook you.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

A month after your night with Sarah and John B things couldn't have been better. You'd spent many pleasure-filled nights at the chateau. They were always showing you something new and making you feel so good. There were even times when it would be just one of them if the other was busy or not around.

You weren't expecting the text from Sarah asking you to come over considering you were just there two days ago. She asked you the wear that red dress which made you even more confused.

Walking into the chateau, not bothering to knock, you saw the table with lots of food and a candle adorning the middle of the table. "What's all this?" you questioned. John B and Sarah both turned from their spot in the kitchen and greeted you. 

"We wanted to do something special to thank you, you look beautiful by the way," he said leading you to the empty chair. They sat down at the table and you could tell something was coming up. Even Sarah looked a bit nervous. Maybe they were going to end things.

"So, we don't want to keep you here with this uncertainty. We did all these because this past month has been amazing. You've always been a great friend and I think– we think– doing this has made us incredibly closer." You nod in agreement. "We want you to be our girlfriend. We'll be an official polyamorous couple. I don't want to have to give you up to someone else and neither does Sarah. We want you to be ours and we'll be yours completely."

You felt like the wind had been sucked out of you. They wanted you to be their girlfriend. Before you could say anything Sarah chimed in. "Sorry if this seems sudden and we understand if you want to keep things how they are. You don't have to have an answer–"

"Of course I would," you cut her off with a wide smile. You could see the worry leave both of their faces. "God I love you." Sarah laughed leaning over to place a kiss on your cheek, John B following suit.

The rest of the night was spent having an amazing dinner and even better sex with your new partners. Never in a million years did you think this would be your life but you loved it and you loved them. They were your best friends and lovers wrapped in one.

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[pixiesfz]

could you write about sam being sick and still playing through a game and the reader just takes care of her afterwards etc? i loved your jessie fic so much 😭😭🫶🏼

Stubborn girls s.k x r

plot: After a family night out Sam gets food poisoning, y/n tells her not to play but she doesn’t listen.

warning: reader and Sam have a child, sickness and vomiting , I’m writing this on my phone, I also don’t know how to cure food poisoning so just go with it

“I liked that place” You said as Sam opened the door for you and your sleeping daughter who you know held “I’m not sure my stomach isn’t feeling right”

“Well that is because you got the seafood which I said don’t get because-“

You were cut off as your wife ran to the toilet it wasn’t till later you heard Sam hurling up the last of her dinner.

you walked to the bathroom with your little toddler still in your arms who now stirred awake.

“Sam?” You asked at the door “I’m alright” she said “you sure? The colour in your face says different” you pointed at her face as Sam once again had her face in the toilet.

“Mama sick” your toddler said from your shoulder and you nodded “yeah cause she ate the seafood” you mumbled and your wife groaned.

“Time to go to bed bubba” You told your daughter who merely nodded “Sam are you okay?” You asked her again and she nodded “It’s a one time thing I reckon” her Australian accent shining through, you nodded and walked your daughter to her room.

“Mama got game tomorrow” your daughter said and you nodded “correct but mama is sick and shouldn’t play” you smiled at your daughter even though your words were serious “but mama said she’s fine”

“Mama lies a lot”.

You made sure your daughter was in bed and asleep before you made your way to the kitchen and grabbed medicine and a washcloth which you put u der the cold water from the sink.

“Sammy” you sung out, expecting her to be in the bed but she was still in the bathroom. You sighed as you now knew that she shouldn’t play tomorrow.

Sam seemed to read your mind as she looked up to you “I’m fine I promise” she said but you shook your head “Your skin is pale, you have bags under your eyes and your head has been stuck in the toilet for about” you checked your watch “twenty minutes now”

“Twenty minutes?” Sam asked and you nodded “little darling was a bit woke when she heard you chuck up” you said before you sat down next to Sam and took off your shoes “I’m fine-“ “No you’re not” you cut off Sam.

You rose your brows at her which she looked away from “you have food poisoning” you told her before bringing the medication and the washcloth out.

Sam excepted it as you put it on her forehead “You know you can’t play tomorrow” you told her and she groaned “we are versing Arsenal tomorrow I am playing” she said “what and vomit all over the pitch, no way am I watching that” you said before filling up a glass of water.

“Here take these” you said before pushing the tablets out to her, she did and you stroked her hair “just know that your team would rather you play healthy rather than play sick” you said and she leaned into your touch “I love you” she said with a smile.

“Are you trying to trick me into telling you that you can play”

“No”

You looked at her again.

“Maybe” she admitted and you gave her a sweet kiss on her temple “you missed” she whispered, a joke between the two of you on how you had your first kiss.

“I am not kissing you on the lips until you drink that water and have those tablets” you said before sitting up “I’ll grab you pyjamas and I’ll put a bucket next to our bed, if you need to wake me then do” you told Sam with a stern voice as she usually would try to hide any sickness or injury from you.

You grabbed her a pair of trackie shorts and a used oversized top and a bucket before placing the bucket to Sam’s side of the bed and passing the clothing to her.

“I love you” Sam said “and I truly mean it this time” she smiled “I love you too, in sickness and in health” you joked before giving her a soft kiss on the lips.

You crashed into your bed fairly quickly after and fell asleep, when you woke up you went to cuddle into Sam only to find an empty space.

Opening your eyes, you groaned to see your wife not present in the bed, then you checked the clock to see the time.

10 am.

You shot up, you were supposed to be up at 8, your alarm should’ve woken you up it always does.

Then you saw the paper on top of Sam’s pillow.

‘I feel better now and went to the game, sorry’

“That evil little Australian mother fucker” you swore to yourself before you heard a gasp behind you.

“Mummy swore!” Your daughter said from behind you “no she didn’t” you said very quickly to the giggly girl

“You said fuck!” she yelled before running away.

You sighed to yourself as you ran your fi hers through your hair. Grabbing your phone you saw to see that Sam turned off your alarm.

You then called her in anger which she didn’t pick up. Rolling your eyes you got up and put your jeans and your Chelsea jersey on “Well if she says she’s fine then let’s go watch”.

You got ready quickly and then got your daughter ready who had thankfully have seemed to forget about her new word she had learned.

You out on her Chelsea beanie and top and you both drove to the game. It would be around the second half once you got there.

“Hey y/n where you been, did you sleep in?” One of Your girlfriends team mates sister teased as you sat in the family and friends section. “You can say something like that.

“Mama Sick!” Your daughter smiled to her and she nodded her head “I could tell something was off because right now we’re getting smashed” she said and you furrowed your brows “what?” She pointed at the score.

3-1

You let your daughter look over the gate as you shook your head and looked for Sam “can you see Mama?” You asked your daughter and she laughed “Mama off” she said and you looked to the corner to see Sam subbed off.

You hated to say it because you loved her so much but she looked terrible.

Her tan skinned turned green and her bags under eyes were so dark she must not have slept last night.

When the siren went You saw Millie who went to go to your daughter “get Sam” you told her as she picked your daughter up “Is Mama in trouble?” Millie sang out to your daughter who laughed at the older girl

“how bout, lie to your wife, turn her alarm off so she doesn’t know that your playing sick type of mad?” You said

“Mummy is very mad” your daughter told Millie who opened her eyes wide “I’ll go get her” she said and went off, you didn’t want to get mad at her in public so you shook your head “tell her to meet me at home”

When you next saw Sam she walked into the kitchen where you sat with your daughter, watching her favourite show and she walked up to you with her head down “What you upset that I didn’t wake up later?” You asked and she shook her head.

When she looked up your heart almost broke, her eyes were shiny and her face was red, she had been crying.

“I’m sorry” she said and sniffed and you quickly got yo and held her “it’s okay” you said before you shook your head “actually it’s not okay but we can get to that later” you told her as you rubbed her back up and down.

When she sat down next to you she put her head on your shoulder “I shouldn’t of played, I just put them one man down, I couldn’t do anything special” she said and you grabbed her hand “You don’t need to do something special every time you play Sam”

“I know since the World Cup eyes have been on you but I want you to know that you are allowed to make mistakes and take time for yourself without being a bad player or being selfish”

She looked up to you with glossy eyes “I love you so much, you always know what to say” you smiled “I know and that’s why you married me” you smirked, knowing this time you were right.

“Mummy said fuck!”

Both of your heads whipped to your daughter who was smiling with her doll.

“Mummy said what?” Sam asked your daughter with a smirk.

You were somehow both in the doghouse that night.

[sseastar]

✶ tingly feeling ; lee heeseung.

info. fluff ; lee heeseung x gn!reader warnings. physical touch / cuddling. listen to. it takes two by fiji blue.

[✧] “see, this is nice, isn’t it?” a muffled voice says against the skin of your neck. it’s funny how much you’ve become used to the feeling of his lips grazing over your skin. you could barely look at him early into your relationship and you think you’ve come a long way. especially since your boyfriend could have anyone in the palm of his hand just by smiling. or those damn eyes.

“i suppose,” you tease, taking your hand to run your fingers through the locks of your boyfriend’s hair, his head tucked at the crook of your neck and his body half draped over yours. his arms tighten around your torso as he presses a soft kiss on a spot on your neck, and you giggle. a little under a year ago, you would’ve slapped yourself for giggling, reprimanding yourself for letting a man make you giggle. but lee heeseung always had that effect on people anyway, and you were no different.

well, except for the fact that you were the one he chose to love. and frankly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“what do you mean you suppose? i know you’re comfortable right now,” heeseung lifts his head from where it rests against your neck and shoulder, lightly tapping his forehead onto your cheek. you only laugh, tightening your hold around the boy that lays halfway on top of you, patting both of your hands against his back and shoulder and pressing a kiss onto the top of his head.

against the sound of your oscillating towering fan in the corner, you can hear the morning birds chirping outside the window you decided to leave open the night before in hopes to cool down the stuffy summer air. the chirping was what woke heeseung up from his slumber next to you as you finished up one of your assignments before turning it in. as soon as he watched you click the bright blue ‘submit’ button and the webpage celebrated with animated confetti, he was shutting your laptop and forcing you back down onto the pillow. ‘this is your punishment for not letting me wake up in your arms.’ you only rolled your eyes at him, but allowed him to take up his rightful place over your body.

“no, yeah, you’re right, i’m enjoying this because you’re being a big baby right now.”

“hey!” he huffs, and his grip on you loosens as he props himself up to interrogate you. you don’t think you it’s possible to not get flustered by the way he hovers over your frame. even if he’s whining right now. so, you yank on his shirt again and he gives in, returning to the position he had been in. “what do you mean ‘big baby?”

“i’m saying you need to be cuddled as much as i do and that i’m glad i’m the only one that gets to see your clingy, cute side under your whole…husband material…apparatus.”

“oh, you think i’m husband material?” heeseung raises his head from your chest again to quirk an eyebrow at you and you take your hand to push his face back down to its original spot.

“hee, you already know i do, you dork,” you pout, and he only laughs against your neck, only for you to join him when you realize how content you are right now. content in this moment, in this place, in his arms.

no matter how asleep your leg is.

⌕. author’s note ; ayo guess who's back! it's been so long sinc i last posted, and this is so so short but i currently am in finals week and just need a break so i wanted to post something here! i'm still very much working on my wips rn but i keep losing motivation and getting inspo at the worst times (like i said i have finals this and next week) so thanks everyone for the patience! i'm obviously not a consistent writer just because my personal life doesn't allow for it, but posting stuff every once in a while is just something i want to continue to do because i don't want my writing to just be stuck in my google drive! anyway, hope y'all enjoyed this very very short thing that i ended up posting as a blurb because i couldn't find a good wip to put it into lol <3

⌕. taglist ; @soobin-chois @koishua @iwonzzi @enhacolor @chrysbibi @acaiasahi

[apocalypseornaw]

Love You Better (Pt 3/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

The distance between you and Dean starts to take a toll. How much longer can the tension between the two of you continue before it snaps? And can your relationship survive his insecurities

I think only warnings are cursing and some sort of talk about sex

You weren't sure what exactly had woke you up. You blinked a couple times to let your eyes adjust to the darkness in the room. Nothing was out of place and you could hear Sam's snores coming from the adjoining room. You laid there a second before you heard Dean barely whisper your name.

You turned over to face him and saw in his face he was in pain. He looked broken even asleep. You gently touched his arm "Dean?" He jolted awake, green eyes wide as he took a few breaths. He finally focused on you so you asked if he was ok. He nodded "Yeah, I'm good" you knew he was lying but you also knew pushing it wouldn't work. "You called my name in your sleep. Bad dream?" He nodded quickly "The usual, you getting hurt" if you had been anyone else you would've believed that but there was a hesitation in his eyes, his touch that told you there was more.

You moved closer to him and laid your head over on his chest "Well try to get more sleep. I'm right here" he smiled but it didn't even reach his eyes. He leaned down and pressed a feather light kiss to your lips before settling back onto the pillows.

You were worried about him. You needed to ask Sam about the fallout from the time he'd gotten poisoned by a Djinn before, maybe call Charlie too since she'd dealt with it. After a moment of listening his heart beat under your ear you felt sleep nipping at your mind to pull you back under.

Dean watched as you told Jax goodbye. He still wasn't sure of the reason the two of you had split. If he was being honest Jax was a decent guy and from what he'd seen and heard had damn near worshiped the ground you walked on.

--------

You hugged Jax and he whispered into your ear "You and Dean are a good fit" you pulled back and smiled "I'd like to think so" then motioned around the garage "This place seems to be doing well, I'm happy for you"

He nodded over to where Dean was leaning against the impala talking to Sam "Looks like we both landed where we were meant to" you hugged him once more before saying "Don't be a stranger"

-------

He walked you over to the impala and offered his hand to Dean first. When Dean shook it he smiled "Was good working with you again Dean. Take care man" Dean nodded "You too"

Jax shook Sam's hand too and thanked him for the help before the three of you decided to hit the road home.

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

You'd gotten about sixty miles from Austin and Dean was being a little distant still. You weren't sure what was wrong. He'd even let a few songs you knew he loved pass without so much as drumming along on the steering wheel. You cut your eyes up at Sam to see if he'd noticed but his eyes were on his phone screen checking emails.

You let out a breath then leaned up between the two of them to kiss Dean on the cheek "if you want me to drive I promise I can treat her right. You didn't sleep too well last night" he shook his head but a slight smile pulled at his lips "I'm good sweetheart"

You nodded and leaned back in the seat, he'd talk to you eventually. You had to trust that.

Dean walked up the steps to Bobby's porch. He could hear the sound of music from inside. Certain things stuck out as feeling out of place. Like the junkyard had organization to it, the paint on the house was fresh and wasn't peeled anywhere not to mention the flowers blooming in the garden.

The nagging at the back of his mind grew worse but he pushed it down. He knew where he was, this was Bobby's there was no way anything too much was wrong. He hesitated with his hand on the knob and before he could turn it the door opened and there you stood.

"Sweetheart I think something is wrong" your eyes widened slightly but you nodded "What do you mean Dean?" Then looked around behind him "Where's Lisa? Did she get called into work last minute?" The confusion he felt he knew was visible on his face "Lisa?" Before he could question further he heard Jax's voice calling your name. The man in question came into view behind you and nodded to Dean before slipping an arm around your waist "Baby what's going on?"

Dean could feel his blood boiling as you turned to look up at Jax "I don't know. Dean was saying something was wrong and Lisa couldn't make it" Dean motioned between the two of you "What is going on?"

Your smile faltered slightly "We're celebrating Jax opening up two more garages across Texas. You don't remember?" He shook his head "I think I need to sit down" you stepped out of Jax's embrace to offer him a hand but he shook his head again "I'm good"

You stepped back to let him past you and he heard you tell Jax to go get some water and Ellen? Ellen was alive?

You followed Dean into the living room and sat next to him on the couch, your eyes full of worry "Should I call Lisa? Sam should be here soon" He shook his head and started to ask what was going on but noticed a ring on your left hand. His heart clenched in his chest as he motioned to it "That new?" You looked down at the ring then smiled brightly "We were gonna tell everyone over dinner but yes, Jax proposed last night"

He stared at you for a long second "How long have you two been together?" Your eyes furrowed slightly before you said "Dean did something happen? An accident or something?" He shrugged "I don't think so" you nodded slowly then said "Remember me and you had a fling but then after that wreck that we got into with Sam and Bobby I don't know I guess we started pulling away from each other. You ended up getting back with Lisa then Jax asked me out. That was God six years ago now?"

He felt like the room got ten degrees hotter, he could feel his chest tightening "So you and him have been together that whole time?" You nodded slowly "Im gonna call Lisa ok?" He watched you stand to walk away and knew this wasn't right.

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

Lisa had ended up actually being at work but apparently everyone stayed at Bobby's when you landed in town? Which meant Bobby and Ellen were downstairs in their bedroom while Sam and Jess were in one room, you and Jax were in another and Dean was supposed to take the third room until Lisa could join him.

He couldn't sleep, you weren't supposed to be with Jax. You were supposed to be with him. Of course the sound of Sam and Jess having sex wasn't helping either. He eventually gave up and decided to head downstairs, he took a deep breath before walking past the room you and Jax were in.

When he heard you moan loudly it took everything he had not to break the door down and kill that son of a bitch.

"Dean!" You were on your knees in the bed shaking his arm, trying to get him to wake up. He was having a nightmare that much was clear. He'd been saying your name then his hands were balled into fists tight enough you were afraid he'd hurt himself.

When his eyes opened you ducked back to give him room to breath "Baby are you ok?" He stared at the ceiling for a second before nodding "Yeah, I'm good"

You watched him for a while before he finally sat up, leaning back against the headboard. The sheet pooled around his waist as he did so. He'd gone to bed wearing sleep pants and a tshirt which made you question why he'd been wearing a shirt when he normally didn't.

A slight smirk that was a ghost of his usual one played at his lips "Quick staring sweetheart. You know what I look like under these clothes" you felt your cheeks warm for feeling like an overly hormonal teenager. A couple days had passed since you'd been home from Texas and you were used to yours and Dean's sex life being a usual thing. It didn't bother you when you had reason but you were starting to wonder if something had happened you didn't know about.

"Excuse me for you being gorgeous there Dean" he shook his head at your words but smiled nonetheless "Come here" he held out an arm so you moved closer to him, ducking your head against his clothed chest "Are you sure you're ok?" You asked quietly "I'm ok" he replied and leaned down to press a kiss onto your lips. It was just a touch of a kiss but enough to take your breath away. God you were in love with him and seeing him like this was breaking your heart.

When you cut your eyes up at him he smiled "Let's get some sleep" you nodded and laid down against the pillows and he laid down behind you so you reached for his arm and pulled it around your waist before falling back asleep.

You woke up the next morning and felt Dean's hand had slipped under the shirt you'd worn to bed and had cupped one of your breast in his sleep. You didn't want to move in fear of waking him because this was the most intimate touch you'd had with him since before the three of you had gone to Texas.

You missed his touch. He'd been barely kissing you. You felt him stir behind you and tried to stifle a moan when you felt his erection around your ass. He rolled his hips into yours and laughed as he moved his hand to pinch at your nipple" Good morning"

---------

You were like putty in Dean's hands, always had been. As he teased at your breast you shifted back into him, rubbing back against him "Are you feeling better?" You asked and he nodded biting down gently on your pulse point. You let out a moan and felt him freeze behind you. "Dean?" You turned and he smiled "I forgot we gotta help Jody do some stuff today. Better get up now so we can start getting stuff together to hit the road"

You watched him grab clothes and adjust himself in his pants before he came over to give you a quick kiss "Be back in a few" you watched him walk out and fought the urge to cry. What had you done to make him not want you?

The sound of your moan rang through Dean's head. He should've ignored it, pushed through and give both of you the pleasure from being together you desperately needed but he could still hear you moaning Jax's name, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh and Jax praising your body.

He let the water rush over his face in the shower hoping maybe to wash it away. He didn't want to lose you because of this. He wanted to be selfish and just bury himself inside of you but the doubt remained what if you didn't love him like he loved you? He couldn't blame you, you deserved better but how the fuck was he even supposed to face that maybe you didn't want him like he wanted you?

@marimarvelfan @suckitands33 @sushiumex @janineb86 @nix-rose @ladysparkles78 @globetrotter28 @holdingontil-may @freewastelandstrawberry @jackles010378 @stillhere197 @cat-loves-music @marvelfanfn2187a113 @that1nerd-20 @foxyjwls007

[zombholic]

☆ 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 ☆

tw: kinda physical fighting

you wake up to your brothers stupid make believe band conjuring up all the random notes to their stupid instruments to make any sound they possibly can. your blood boiling from getting woken up you barged into your garage, slamming the door open you walked right up behind your older brother, pushing his back roughly.

“what the fuck y/nn! what!” he turned around, shouting at you, his face now covered with annoyance and anger. “can you turn that shit down?! i will tell mom! you woke me up!” you yelled back, basically seeing the steam come out of your ears.

“did we wake the beast from hibernation?” the short haired brunette spoke up, her hands dropping from her bass guitar that was painted a blood red. “fuck off abby you can’t even sing” giving her a dirty look before walking back inside your house “if you guys keep being loud i will break y’all’s faces” you slammed the door shut before going back to your room.

being woken up too early you decided you might as well go hangout with your friends, quickly doing your usual morning routine you threw on some leggings and a oversized hoodie and your bootleg ugg’s you got from like jcpenny’s, they were still cute though. grabbing your car keys you quickly went downstairs to tell your mom you were going out.

meeting up with them at ellie’s house, you guys passed the joint around, giggling mess, dazed eyes looking at each other. “dude, wait oh my god” you spoke up all of a sudden with a mind like einstein, “aren’t all accents just mocking each other?” you sat up causing jesse, dina and ellie to start contemplating as well. “oh my god guys, guess what fucking abby had the audacity to say to me this morning!” you were still very upset. “what muscle mommy say now” dina hollered, literally crying at her nickname for anderson.

“listen shh, she said ‘did we wake the beast from hibernation’ like who the hell is she to talk to me like that in my own house, you rolled your eyes, jesse busted out laughing. “i’m sorry, y/nn, abby can be funny sometimes” “nuh uh! she’s a bitch and i hope she gets ran over by a semi.”

ever since your brother started that little stupid four people band in high school, abby the only one who stuck out like a sore thumb for being the biggest asshole. you guys were always at each other’s throats about something as stupid as eating the last fruit cup. she always managed to hop her ass on every single nerve in my body and she enjoyed it so much, she loved ruthlessly annoying you.

—

it had been a couple of hours and you needing to come back home because your mom was going on her twenty-four night shift at the hospital. opening your front door you saw abby and your brother, naveed, playing on his playstation. those two being too into a really stupid round in fortnite to even notice you, making your way into your room you had changed into a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, the ac in the house never seeming to work.

slipping on some socks you walked into your kitchen to make some ramen noodles, still hungry from the leftover munchies. kneeling down to grab a pot to boil some water in, right as you got back up you bumped into someone. turning around and groaning in annoyance “personal space weirdo, all up in my bubble” abby gave you a disgusted look after the comment, grabbing some ingredients to make a sandwich “what bubble? your big ass head is a bubble" she went on to making a sandwich. "fuck you abby, i really wanna strangle you sometimes!" you groaned out of frustration.

abby putting down what she was doing, turning her head to look at you with the stern face, getting up and slowly she cornered you into a wall "do it, you're just a bitch who barks" her harsh blue eyes gazed down at you. "fuck you abigail" you pushed at her chest, trying to get out of the suffocating situation. grabbing your wrists she manhandled you to bend over the island, one hand gripping your hands behind your back and her other on the back of your neck.

"abby let me fucking go" you squealed trying to squirm out of her deadly grip, she grabbed a fist full of your hair pulling you onto her front, you could feel her breath on your face "remember how easily i can fucking break you y/n" she let out a chuckle after seeing your eyes go from anger to fear in a span of a couple seconds.

"i am twice your size kid, watch your fucking self” she eyed you up and down before leaving the kitchen.

AUTHORS NOTE: yall im high asf rn so pls tell me if u like this cause im honestly just typing words

[famoulouswrites]

~Nightmares~

Ace x Y/N

(She/her pronouns used)

(Overblot spoilers)

(Y/N low key has PTSD)

(Not proofread.)

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧

The overblots were horrible.

The room around growing black, the walls and plants cracked or decaying, the very emotion of the victim distorting everything around them.

Were they even victims? Y/N believed so, but her nightmares painted them in their worst light.

One night, after the first overblot, Y/N dreamt that she ran into the gardens maze, only to be chased by the sounds of yelling and a rose bush hitting the walls.

The next nightmare was even more intense, Y/N stuck alone with Leona, dust clouding the sight of her friends, the threat of being turned to sand closer and closer.

The next one? Hiding bellow a table in the monstro lounge as the sound of foot...or the merman equivalent of foot steps on the tile came closer.

Another? Trapped in golden chains, surrounded by what should have been a joyous party, destroyed by the new head of Sacrabia.

Trapped under fallen debree of the festival,

Surrounded by sobbs and an endless number of stairs,

With each overblot the nightmares grew more and more unbearable.

And Y/N was at her breaking point.

Each night she had these nightmares, along with the normal nightmares presented in the mirror....were those even nightmares if she wasn't asleep?

It didn't matter.

Tonight's was the worst of all of them.

In every dream nobody ever touched her, the threat was present but never actully harming her, until tonight.

Grimm....or somthing that looked like Grimm, scratching her, hitting her wih his claws in an aggressie manner, nobody was the there to help, she screamed for Ace, for Deuce, Jack, Epel, Kalim, anyone! Even for Grim to return to his senses! Nobody came.

In one last pounce from Grimm, she woke up.

Breathing heavily she looked up at her ceiling.

She couldn't do this anymore, why was she always in the middle of overblots? Why was Crowly so irresponsible that he let so many happen in the first place?

It wasn't fair!

Y/N sat up, crying to the point she could hardly breathe. She was convinced that if she had magic, she'd be very close to overblotting herself at that point.

The small knock on her door almost went unheard, until it became more fantic.

Getting out of bed and walking down the stairs of Ramshackle, she could finally hear a scared voice pleading for help.

"Perfect wake up! Riddles on my case again, you gotta let me in till Trey calms him down! Perfect? Perfect!!!"

Oh...it was Ace.

Again.

She walked to the door, and opened it already stepping out of the way for when Ace would come plowing in.

She'd been though this a quite few times before.

Ace was lucky this time, she saw, as he wasn't collared yet. Unlike a majority of times he came bolting into her dorm.

"Oof, Riddles really ticked this time. I swear I thought I locked the door to the flamingos!" He started to rant, walking around the main living room, as he tried to prove his innocence to her, before finally looking back up to Y/N.

"Y/N....you look like crap."

"Wow thanks."

Y/N sighed as she sat down on the couch.

At least her couch was nice and cozy, it made the situation a little better.

It was true what he had said, she did look like crap.

Her hair was all messed up, tears were going down her face still and she was soaked in sweat.

For once Ace looked more orderly than her.

"You....you need to talk about somthin'?" He offered, sitting next to her on the couch.

"I don't know, it was just a nightmare." She said, brushing off the offer.

"Hey! That's serious!" Ace argued "Whenever I'd have a nightmare back home my bro would sit with me and listen to it! Doesn't matter how old I get!" Ace said. "So talk! ...if you want."

Y/N sighed, and started from the beginning, recounting every nightmare she'd had after coming to Night Raven Collage, all the way up to her latest one.

"Dang...." Ace said, shaking his head. "And I thought my nightmare about my pants falling down was bad...."

"Look," he said with a soft sigh "I'm not gonna say you shouldn't worry about those cuz, let's be honest, I think overblots happen here more than anywhere else......this school really needs better therapists, but! You know that you'll always have help!" Ace smiled softly as he sat at the edge of the couch.

"Like-like with Riddles! You had me, Deuce, Trey and Cater! With Leonas you had me, Deuce, Riddle, Jack and I kinda guess Ruggie...does he even count? He did hardly anyth- ok I'm getting off track! Point is, you'll always have help! Ok? You're never going to have to handle one on your own, ok?"

Y/N listened, knowing he was probly right but...she was still scared. "I know in real life I have you guys, but what about in my dreams? I know they're not real but it makes it so hard to sleep..." She sighed.

"Well...um..." Ace thought for a moment "I'll sleep with you tonight! And if any nightmares come, I'll just shoo them away!" He laughed. "That's what my brother used to do for me!"

Yuu smiled. "Thanks....I'd like that!"

Of course, as always, nightmares came as always.

Another one about Leona.

She was back on the playing field, surrounded by sand, she couldn't see anything but the yellow clouds...but this time, she heard a voice calling out for her.

"Y/N! Y/N over here! I've got ya!"

[yandereunsolved]

Hii Im not sure if youre taking requests rn but if you have the time I would love for a yandere Kit Walker hc set or a yandere post death Kyle Spencer fic where the reader tries to leave him at Misty’s :)

The Honey In My Honeycomb - ,, yandere Kit Walker pre and post Asylum

tw(s): yandere themes, mentions of baby trapping, mention of murder of child(ren), descriptive gore

♡ It all started out like a cheesy romance movie. Your car broke down, and Kit just happened to be driving by. He fixed your car and invited you back to his shop. He ended up changing your oil and tires for free. It evolved into the two of you dating shortly after. You never saw the warning signs—none of them. You never saw through Kit's honeyed words and his charming smile. You would have been better off if you just listened to that tiny voice in the back of your mind telling you to run while you still could.

♡ You were stuck at his shop all day. He had gone home to retrieve some tools and never came back. You got worried that something may have happened to him. You weren't prepared for the gory scene you found. A trail of blood led to your bedroom, where you found Kit passed out near the mutilated corpse of a woman. Your clothes were thrown all around him, and he was cuddling them in his sleep. You freaked out and shrieked, which woke him up. He desperately tried to explain it to you. He pleaded with you to just listen to him. You didn't. You ran and reported him to the police. A part of your mind did want to believe him. The more time that passed, the more you believed in his innocence. Only you were wrong. He did murder all those people that he was accused of killing—over fifteen. He did it all for you. That is the secret he will take to the grave with him.

♡ He was put in Briarcliff Asylum while awaiting his trial. You were allowed to visit him, although it terrified you. You had heard such bloodcurdling stories about that place from the few patients that had survived it. Your visits with him always had to be monitored. Sometimes, though, no one would. That confused you, but you never verbalized it. Kit just threatened to kill the nuns if they interrupted your time with him. All of the nuns thought he must have been possessed by some lust devil. He just could never seem to get enough of you. Day and night, the only thing that came out of his mouth was praise about you—how pretty you looked, how vulnerable you were, how he had to protect you from the vile world that threatened to taint your purity.

♡ It was irritating, really. Protecting your visage wasn't easy when so many people tried to interrupt him. He had to get rid of Grace. It was really her fault. She just shouldn't have been flirting with him. She shouldn't have tried to come onto him. She shouldn't have ignored his warnings. He said multiple times that he was a man who was happily dating such a beautiful thing as yourself. Grace just didn't seem to listen to that. She even had the gall to interrupt one of your meetings with each other. He was in the middle of showing you how much he missed you. That was the last straw.

He made it seem like it was Doctor Arden's fault with a botched sterilization. He can clean that up himself. He's a big boy, and Kit isn't helping. He can't make himself look guilty in any way, of course. He could never let you know how much of a monster he really was.

♡ He has kept a ring in his pocket since the day he met you. The ring belonged to his grandfather. It's practically a family heirloom. He so desperately wants to put it on your finger. He just wants everyone to know that you belong to him—his darlin', his one and only. The thing is extremely shiny, too. It'd look so good on your hand. 

♡ That's not the only jewelry he has for you. He has a lot more tucked away in his trusty, rusty old red tool box. He stole all of it from the people he killed for you. He plans on giving it all to you as wedding gifts. He'll fix all of the pieces, of course. He'll wipe the blood away and make sure none of it stains your beautiful figure. He also stole their money from their bank accounts. He has more than enough to keep you both financially stable until you die. He would never let his little house spouse work with some other man. The thought of it just makes his hand itch to reach for an axe. 

♡ He fantasizes about what your wedding would look like. You'd look like a god(dess) walking down the aisle toward him. You wouldn't need anyone but him and the priest. He would kill the priest after. You wouldn't know that. It's just that he can't let anybody see such a holy sight except for him. He wouldn't want to risk somebody making an off comment or lusting over your figure. 

Your body is yours and yours alone. It's also his, if you'll allow him to have it. 

He can't wait till the wedding night. He has it all planned out. After your dinner, you'll both bathe together. He'll set the mood. You both will have each other for the first time in marriage. It's something that makes his mouth water when he thinks about it.

♡ If you can get pregnant... He will immediately try for a baby with you. He just thinks your belly would look so adorable swollen up with a mixture of you and him. You'd be completely dependent on him. You wouldn't be able to leave, and he'd be the best father to your children. Not to mention, he can teach them how to be protective of you. It'll be absolutely perfect! You'll have no way to escape!

♡ If you are unable to get pregnant... Kit doesn't want you to worry. He'll just pick a random kid off the street if he needs to. He'll kidnap a baby from the hospital and say he adopted them. He could go the legal route for adoption as well, if that would better please you. Anything to keep you with him until you both die in each other's arms.

♡ He ideally wants anywhere from two to five kids. He's always wanted one girl and one boy. He'd ultimately want five because you'd never leave him all alone with five children. Sure, you could run off with two, three, and a slim chance of four, but five? No. You have absolutely no chance of escaping him, then. Unless you wanted to abandon them and him, that is. That's fine! He'll just threaten their lives. He'll kill one of them if it convinces you to stay. There are no lengths he wouldn't go to to prove his unending love for you.

♡ He already has your shared casket picked out. He picked it out within the first week of both of you dating. He's already written both of your wills with your future children in mind. He has the plot of land picked out and everything. He may not be a rich man, but he'd spend every penny he has to make sure your shared resting place is envious to the heavens.

♡ The day he is released is a day that will live in infamy within his mind. He finally knew that he had to tie you to him, both literally and figuratively. He understood how fickle humanity is. He needs to save you from the dangers and trauma he faced while in there. The same Kit that came into the asylum isn't the same one that came out. He's a lot more open about his obsessive and possessive tendencies. That crazed look in his hazel irises isn't clouded by his sweet and homey nature anymore. You could see it; you can see it now. You couldn't escape.

♡ He doesn't allow you to leave the house for the first few months. If you try to escape, then it'll be even longer before he allows you to roam free without many restraints. You are trapped within a prison of his own desire. He gaslights you into believing it's for the best. You know how dangerous the world is out there. He's been through the asylum. He knows. He just wants to protect you. Can't you see that? He's traumatized and wants to protect you from that trauma. So that means locking you away in your shared house and keeping you there. Don't worry about boredom. Kit will buy you anything that will make a smile appear on your features. He's addicted to it. You have no shortage of books and other trinkets to keep you entertained while he is out working. Just not anything that you could use to communicate with people. The last thing he needs is you getting that silly little idea in your head to call the police on him. 

♡ After about a year in captivity, assuming you haven't made numerous escape attempts, he'll propose to you and allow you to take short excursions with him. The wedding is just as he thought. It's just you, him, and the priest in the middle of the woods, only a few miles from your shared house. You may not have any guests or family, and he may have foraged the wedding certificate by signing fake people as witnesses, but your marriage is still real. A piece of paper doesn't define your love for each other. Of course, he murders the priest after. He chopped him up into tiny pieces with his axe, soaked his body in a mixture of chemicals, and then left those pieces of him at the bottom of lakes, rivers, and streams at least twenty miles away from the house. If you ask him what he's doing, he'll simply say that he's doing some spring cleaning. He's just taking out a bunch of old trash, that's all.

♡ Even when you gain more privileges, Kit still always has an eye on you. He's always close to you. He'll give you the illusion of space and privacy if he needs to. If you distance yourself too much from him, then he'll sweet talk you into letting him into your space once again. You don't feel good? It's because you haven't let him make you feel good in a while. You feel depressed because you aren't around him as much. You're isolating yourself from him. That's the problem. The problem is you. He'll be right here when you inevitably crawl back to him. He'll shush you and pepper kisses all along your body. You'll realize that you need him even more than he needs you. 

♡ Give it two to five years and a lot of begging, and he'll let you help him while he works. He doesn't let you do any hard labor or interact with the customers. No, honey, he keeps you safe and sound in the back of the shop. You can clean his tools, sort his things, and perhaps even handle the money if he trusts you enough. It may look mundane to most people, but you crave it. You've been starved of any autonomy for the past few years. Being able to control a small workplace is like being somewhere safe, somewhere without Kit. You can allow your mind to drift off and fool yourself into thinking that you are safe. You can just imagine that Kit is nowhere to be found. You can almost taste freedom on your tongue during those fleeting moments.

♡ If you ask for help from someone, he kills them and burns their bodies to ashes in the hearth in your home. He finds it extremely romantic. He'll cuddle into you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear. He'll nip at your skin and mark you up. He's just a bit jealous. He's just a little more possessive. He can't believe that you thought someone else was better than him. He can't believe you wanted to leave him. He'll show you how good you have it. He'll just have to show you again how good he makes you feel—inside and out. The vile dead bodies of the people who have tried to help you take you away from him will keep you both warm at night. He'll take you right in front of the fireplace. He'll claim you again near the sizzling embers of those who dared get near you.

♡ Kit Walker is still as in love with you as the day he laid eyes on you. He has fallen even further into the depths of his own obsession with you. He's ready to take the next step and start a family with you. He can't wait to see your little ones running around the home. He can't wait to see them graduate with you. He can't wait to grow old with you; his devotion to you never faltering. He just needs you to be with him forever, even into the afterlife. He loves you. He'd kill the devil and every god in existence if he had to, just to keep you in his arms forever more.

-‘๑’-

ׂׂૢ taglist: @coentinim @bluerthanvelvet444 @cxndiedvi0lets @doll3tt33 @lacucarachapisser @fear-is-truth @slutforgarlogan @newwavesylviaplath @marchsfreakshow @violet1737

-‘๑’-

[ythankucaptainmccoy]

CoD: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader - Found

I felt inspired to write this today after being fired from my job that I put my heart and soul into for nine years. I don’t know why but all of the sudden I was like I’m going to do this. So here is the finished version of what I saw in my head. I hope you all like it and my inbox is open for asks or requests right now. I’m stuck on CoD men at the moment. This one will be featuring König as well.

—----------------------------------------

It was late when Ghost woke up with a start as he came out of his nightmare. He had been having the same nightmare for the past week after (Y/N) had gone missing. It was a standard mission of retrieval, but when he had taken a round in the leg Soap had to help him walk. That was when she had split from them to draw the enemy away. When they made it to the evac site she didn’t arrive.

Ghost was adamant that they wait, but Soap had convinced him they should go and that she would be okay. He slowly got up and made his way to the kitchen going through the motions of making his night time tea. As the kettle was placed on the stove he could still see her eyes and the worry in them when she made the decision to draw the enemy away. How he had begged with his own eyes for her to stay. 

It was the last time he would probably see her again, and that thought alone reminded him of his mother and brother's family’s murder. The thought of her dead and discarded made him suck in a breath as he felt the panic rising. (Y/N) would know what to do when he had a panic attack, but she wasn’t here. She wasn’t here because he wasn’t man enough to beg her to come with them, and that he couldn’t do this without her.

The screaming in his head was getting louder, and his chest felt like it was constricting. This attack was getting worse by the moment as he imagined her corpse coming towards him wailing at him. He jumped and fell backwards onto his ass scrambling for his knife. He held it in front of him shakily until his vision and hearing started coming back to him. “Simon drop the knife no one's gonna hurt ya’ here”, a voice he should know soothed.

The voice started getting more recognizable, but he was still trying to get his bearings. Then he recognized Price, the old man was holding up both hands when Ghost realized what was happening. He dropped the knife as if it had burned him and listened as Price talked him down. The wailing he thought was her was the kettle going off, and the panic attack had played with his mind.

After he had come back around Price had him sit at the table as he made the tea. Price was telling him that Kortac had a lead on (Y/N), and that König had volunteered to go retrieve her. That would make sense as (Y/N) and König had been good friends back before she joined 141. He nodded along as he listened to Price talk about how they coudn’t go in, and that's why Kortac had taken the job. 

After Price had made sure he was going to be okay he went back to his room to try and get more sleep. He rolled over several times trying to get himself to sleep, but it wouldn’t happen. He got up and went out for a walk around the base noticing all the spots he and (Y/N) would go to be alone. His favorite spot was the sniper training tower where they had had sex the first time.

She had been angry about Soap getting the better of her on sniping and he volunteered himself to help her. They had been dancing around each other for a year when he finally made the first move which led to them shagging in that tower. He smiled remembering how she had moaned and called his real name. How she writhed under him and how afterwards she lay there in his arms until Soap had called up making mentions of how no more shots had been fired. 

His smile quickly fell as he thought about how she may never come home. He kept walking, coming to the mess hall where he remembered her taking a ketchup packet hitting it just right to make it explode in Soap’s face and how they had all laughed. She was the light to his darkness and no matter what, she was always in a good mood until someone made a joke about how she should be home in the kitchen. He made his way back to his room praying Kortac could find her and bring her home to him.

***MEANWHILE IN SOME RANDOM ASS DESERT***

It was a hot afternoon and (Y/N) was trying to stay alive in a hostile environment. She had been captured right after Ghost and Soap had made their safe extract, but escaped and made it into the desert outside of the major city. She had to wait for nightfall before she could go into the city to steal some food or anything else she may need. To be honest she missed them, but there was no way she could get word to her team without possibly compromising them. 

(Y/N) missed being on base, missed the others, but she truly missed Simon. She wanted to be at base sneaking into his room or him into hers to help each other sleep. She thought back on the first time she had sex with him in that sniper tower, and how he had her writhing and moaning. (Y/N) wanted to lay her head on his chest and relax because she knew that right now he would be having a hard time sleeping.

The sun slowly set and soon she would be making her move. She needed more water so her first stop would be the well at the edge of the city. Then she needed to get food and more bandages. (Y/N) knew where she could get the bandages, the food was going to be tricky. She started making her way towards the city. She checked with her binoculars to see the well only to find it guarded. 

“Shit they got wise”, she murmured. Well she would have to sit and wait to see if they would leave or stay. It got dark and they stayed, making her decide to go back to her small encampment. It was far enough away to get a fire going. If she didn’t die of dehydration the night would certainly make her freeze to death. She sat at the encampment praying that she could go into the city the next night to scavenge.

The night passed by and (Y/N) tried to find shade in the small dilapidated stable. It was where she would sleep during the day. Her stomach kept waking her up as it cried for sustenance, but she didn’t have anything to satiate it. If and when she made it home she was going off base to her favorite pub to have a burger and good bourbon. If Gaz and Soap were here they would at least be cracking jokes and trying to cheer her up. She fell asleep again and didn’t wake until right before sunset. She got up and started the walk back towards the city.

The city seemed clear as far as She could tell. The men who had been guarding the well weren’t there now. (Y/N) watched for a couple more minutes just to be sure, and once sure she raced to the well. The water rippled when she bent down cupping her hands, and sucking down water. She drank until her stomach started to cramp. Once her thirst was quenched she darted from alley to alley until she reached a drug store. 

(Y/N) knew that the back store room didn’t lock because she was the one who had broken it the first time she broke in. Under the cover of darkness she slipped in and scoured the shelves grabbing what she needed and filled her pack even taking some bottled waters. She made her way to the back pharmacy where the locked door was, but couldn’t get in. The fridge back there had to have some penicillin which she could use, but she would just have to go without. 

She slipped back out into the alley and started taking note of where she needed to head next. There was a market a couple streets over that sold some raw meats. Some of the shops would be closing up so she had to be quick. She made her way to the markets, but they were all closed. They must have had them close up to keep her options limited.

There was nothing left, not even scraps that she could pick from. This was a failure, but she had to move on. Just as she started back the way she had come from a truck pulled up across the street and armed men climbed out. “Shit shit shit”, (Y/N) cursed. She was going to have to be careful making her way back to her camp unless she wanted to be captured again or worse.

She rounded the last corner when she saw a man looking in her direction. She ducked back into the alley, but he had already alerted his comrades to her position. When the man rounded the corner she ducked down and went for his legs making him fall over her. He dropped his rifle and they rolled in the alley trying to get to it. She could hear the other men approaching when she finally headbutted the man. 

(Y/N) scooped up the rifle and fired a round into the man's skull. She encountered two more men that she quickly dispatched. There was another truck still running, and seeing her opportunity she took it. She hopped into the driver's side and tore out of the city as fast as she could. There was no way she could stay near the city now that they were certain she was there. She continued on for several miles hoping to come across a small village.

There was no such luck, and she was starting to get tired. When she looked at the truck's dash she saw that it was around five in the morning. She continued for a short amount of time when she saw a small house in the distance. The road had disappeared a long time ago and hopefully this small house was unoccupied. When she pulled up she shut the truck off, and grabbed the rifle. 

After clearing the house it was in fact abandoned. It wasn’t all that dilapidated and the bed looked inviting, but her paranoid brain wouldn’t let her sleep there. She took the cushions on the old couch downstairs, and took them to the pantry that unfortunately was empty and placed them on the floor. She drank some water as she grabbed an old curtain covering a doorway and put it in the old pantry on top of the couch cushions then placed the backpack in the far back.

(Y/N) watched the sun rise as she checked on her wound. It needed new bandaging, and she wrapped it with the bandages she had taken. The wound seemed to be festering as it oozed some. Once it was wrapped she went back inside to crawl into the pantry closing the door behind her. She lay her head on the backpack and pulled the curtain over her like a blanket keeping the rifle beside her just in case. The hunger pains were growing, but there was nothing she could do as she slipped off into sleep.

Little did she know that a friend of hers was looking for her in the city she just fled. She woke a few hours later, shivering. She knew she had a fever since she was shivering and it was the hottest part of the day. She lifted her shirt and unwrapped the bandages to see the wound was red around the edges. It also had some discharge and she knew that it wasn’t a good sign. (Y/N) knew she was more likely to die of infection at this point. 

She should have broken into the pharmacy for the penicillin after all. She pulled the makeshift blanket higher and relaxed back in her makeshift mattress. Sleep came easy as her fever got worse. Mumbling in her sleep as the fever continued to ravage her body. A noise and her eyes slowly and lazily fluttered open. It had to be a hallucination she definitely didn’t hear footsteps through the house.

The footsteps were going all around the house, but then they started towards her hiding place. She sat up with a lot of effort that had her breathing heavily, and grabbed the rifle. Lifting it made pain sear through her, and she had just pointed at the door where the footsteps stopped. She held the rifle up as she listened for the person to walk away, but her body gave out causing her to drop the rifle. 

The clattering and her gasp from the pain had the stranger on the other side almost ripping the door off its hinges. She reached for the rifle again, but the stranger was quicker and stepped on it as she tried to pull it from the floor. Pain erupted in her body as the adrenaline left her and weakness hit her like a truck. She collapsed backward as her world spun and started to darken. She tried to keep the darkness at bay, but it consumed her.

(Y/N) started to come around as something cool touched her brow. When she opened her eyes she could see someone with their back turned toward her. One small lantern sat in the corner set on the dimmest setting. She had to get out of here not knowing what this person had planned for her, but when she went to move her strength was almost non-existent and let out a groan. The stranger whipped around and quickly shone a bright light into each eye.

(Y/N) tried to focus her eyes as the figure started talking in a language that sounded familiar, but quickly switched to English. Then a name hit her as her vision cleared some more and she could see the blue eyes and sniper hood. “ König?”, she rasped. “Easy Mause you need to rest”, he told her. “How… how did you find me?”, she coughed. “Your new friends asked me to come fetch you, but you are not fit for travel, and I don’t want to risk you dying on the trip to the extraction zone”, he relayed. 

“We should move now” she told him. “No Mause you have had a high grade fever and you need to rest. Not to mention you have stopped breathing on me twice already to the point of needing resuscitation”, he argued. “I feel… fine”, she said, sitting up with a harsh wince. “No Mause I thi…”, König didn’t get to finish as she got up and walked out of the tent. He quickly followed as she walked towards the truck he had hidden under a desert camo tarp. 

He watched as she got half way and swayed on her feet then down to her knees. He raced forward sliding to her as her upper body fell sideways. He cradled her against him as he looked her over. She was a ghostly pale color and shaking even though she was sweating. He quickly hauled her up and took her back into the tent where he checked the wound. He changed the bandages and made sure the wound was clean. 

When she woke again this time she was alone in the tent, but she could hear König moving around outside. He seemed frantic with his movements so (Y/N) pulled herself up and slowly got out of the tent. “What are you doing?”, she questioned. “I should have listened to your advice last night, Mause. They have some small patrols looking for you”, he relayed as he packed the gear into the truck. She swayed slightly as her strength started waning. 

König took notice right away quickly scooping her up and putting her in the passenger seat of the truck. “Stay here while I get the tent put away”, he ordered. She sat and watched the horizon when she noticed a cloud of dust. “König leave the tent there’s a patrol headed straight for us. He whipped up looking in the direction (Y/N) gestured to. He leapt into action running to the driver side while she started the engine. Flooring it caused the truck to lurch forward and (Y/N) groaned.

She watched as König radioed in for extraction and that there were enemies gaining. Confirmation came over the radio back to him as a Pave Low appeared on the horizon. Gunfire whizzed past their heads, but König pressed on. Sliding to a stop he pulled his gun out of the truck returning fire as he yelled at (Y/N) to head for the heli. She was almost there when she heard the grunt and impact of a body falling behind her. 

When she turned König was on his back still firing back as he yelled again for her to go. “I’m not leaving you behind damnit!”, she yelled above the heli. She grabbed him and dragged him as pain lit up in her side. She was sweating from the pain as he continued returning fire. She heard the ramp lower and gunfire coming from the ramp. She could feel the blood starting to ooze from the torn stitches. Tunnel vision had started and she could feel her strength fading, but she was so close. She couldn’t do it. She screamed in frustration and pain as she felt the impact of the ground. 

Somewhere she could hear a familiar voice as König was yelling at her to leave him. It all happened so fast she saw someone grab König as someone else provided cover fire. Then she felt weightless as her vision wavered. She lifted her head briefly and was met with another masked figure, but those eyes looked so familiar, but why she didn’t know. 

The weightlessness left as she was placed on some blankets, but she could still feel the cold metal under her from the heli. She could hear more yelling as she tried to get herself to sit up. She reached out trying to find something to help her when a hand held hers. She felt the heli lurch upwards and away as her vision and head swam trying to make sense of everything.

Then she heard a voice shouting and she knew that voice it was Soap, but he shouldn’t be here then she recognized Nikolai yelling back to him. She wanted to confirm that it was in fact Soap and Nikolai she heard, but she blacked out as she felt her shirt being lifted and heard the fabric being cut. Those deep brown eyes she saw earlier while being carried into the helo followed her into her darkness. 

Waking up was a complete bitch if (Y/N) was being honest the bright lights were killing her already pounding head. She took in her surroundings slowly noticing she was in a hospital bed and that there was a man in the hospital bed beside her. He was awake and looking at her with those blue eyes. “Hey Mause”, he whispered. Her eyes went wide as she realized König was maskless. 

He was handsome with black hair and those piercing blue eyes. “König your hood”, she gasped. “It’s okay Mause I trust you and your team”, he chuckled. She was about to say something else when she realized something on her other side moved. Her head whipped around to spot Ghost in the chair beside her bed. His shoulders were moving and holy shit was he laughing. “Simon”, she breathed in a whisper. 

“Hello love”, he said as he leaned in pulling up the bottom part of his mask. “Simon we have an audience and I haven’t brushed my teeth yet”, she mumbled. “It’s alright love”, he told her as he kissed her hard and rough. This went on for a few minutes until (Y/N) remembered König was trapped in here with them. Ghost went in for another kiss as his hand traveled down her side skipping over her wound. “Ghost! König is here”, she hissed. 

“It’s fine love, besides I think he is enjoying the show isn’t that right König?”, Ghost asked. When she looked, König was trying to readjust himself discreetly. “Maybe I should let him join us so we can share you when you're healed hmmm”, Ghost hummed. (Y/N) whimpered, causing Ghost to smirk as he looked at König. “What do you think, König, should I let you share her with me once she is healed to thank you for saving her?”, Ghost questioned. (Y/N) looked over at him with a smirk as he responded, “Once you’re healed Mause then you're ours' '. 

The nurses came in to check on both patients while Ghost watched from his chair. He had his woman back and the discussion that he and König had while she was still asleep was coming to fruition. He had known that König was attracted to her when they had worked together before, and (Y/N) had always made mention that she would trust him if they brought another person into the fold. He watched over (Y/N) and König as they both drifted in and out of sleep. 

—--------------------------

That's it, I hope you all liked the little twist at the end and maybe I’ll make a part 2 of this with the three of them. Until next time, I hope you all have a lovely day!

[avatqr]

Please Stay [zuko x reader]

-please enjoy this one shot I came up with in the middle of night:3

-some extra info you might want: You are apart a noble family in the fire nation, Your father is a Commanding officer and serving in the war

Things have been so great with Zuko for such a long time. Since his he has returned from his banishment and started talking to his father again things were looking up.

We spent all of our days together, running through the royal palace, trying the best restaurants in town, sitting down and having tea with his uncle. I have one specific memory though, I wasn't doing so well. I was running a high fever and throwing up nonstop. The smell did not leave my bathroom for weeks! Zuko stuck by me the entire time though. He made me soup, tea, fetched me water, held my hair the whole deal. I could never thank him enough for that. Things were going well for not just him but for us. I loved him so much and he loved me. That's how it always was. That's how it was always supposed be. But after a few months something changed. I don't know when I started to notice the changes. Zuko was suddenly distant, less excited. It was was almost like the fire in his eyes has went out. I spent countless nights awake in my bed worrying about what could be wrong. Was it me? Did I make him angry?

I was walking through the palace, I had finally heard my father was back from Ba Sing Se. I make my way down the dark flaming hallway. I saw Zuko walking a ways down, I ran up to him and just walked by him silently waiting for him to greet me like he normally does but this time I get no greeting. We walked in silence for awhile listening to the flames rumble and the way our steps sounded together. The silence was tearing me apart. I finally broke.

"Why haven't you said anything?" I whispered. The tension was choking me. A chain is around my neck, a whisper was all I could manage.

"Me and Azula talked last night, and I have been thinking about some things. And I.." Zuko stopped talking. He let out a heavy sigh and turned to walk the other way.

"What has been wrong with you this past couple of weeks?" The chains that have been suppressing me suddenly start falling off. "I have done nothing but been there for you before and after your banishment!" I exclaimed. He was still faced away from me, he looked calm and collected unaffected by my words. "Your just going to stand there and say nothing! I bent over backwards for you, proving my love fixing your reputation. Fixing your mistakes!" I screamed. He turned and faced me he no longer looked calm and collected. He looked frustrated and hurt.

"I never asked you to do that! I never asked for your help. I never wanted or needed your help." He exclaimed.

I felt hurt by his words. I felt the tears starting to well in my eyes, "Are you saying you don't even apricate my help?" He said nothing. All of the sudden I was angry again. "I hate you! Be a coward and run away for all I care. Without me your what? A traitor to the fire nation and a fugitive?"

"I don't know what you want me to say." He whispered. He walked off and I never saw him again until 2 weeks later.

I woke up to the sound of my door being opened. I jumped out of bed and opened the curtain to reveal who it was. It was Zuko.

"What are you doing here? You don't talk to me for two weeks now all the sudden your in my room in the middle of the night! Who do you you think you are?" I said sharply. He was wearing all black with a mask and hood. really does no good because you can still see him in the full moon. I look down and in his left hand is a scroll rolled perfectly wrapped in a red ribbon with a nicely knotted bow.

"I'm sorry..I have to do this." He set the scroll on the desk and ran out of the room. I ran out after him.

I chased him all over town. He was trying to escape me but I wouldn't let him. I didn't understand what was happening. Was he running away? I cried and yelled out for him. I just wanted to talk. And I didn't want to yell this time I didn't want to get angry. I never meant to hurt Zuko. I still love him so incredibly much. I don't understand why we won't except my help, why he keeps running away from me. I continue running after him until we reach the docks outside the city.

"Please just talk to me!" I pleaded

"You wouldn't understand. The avatar is alive. I don't want to be around when the news gets around."

"That's really what your worried about?"

He looks at me, his eyes start tearing up. "Do you know what my father would do to me? He already disowned me once. I have made so many mistakes, I am an embarrassment to him! To our family! To the royal name!" He yelled. I could hear the hurt and the fear in his voice. It made my heat feel heavy. I just wanted to give him a hug.

"I have to kill the avatar. For my honor." He looked at me with tears in eyes. But after hearing him say that all my empathy washed away with the roaring waves that were crashing against the dock. I hate it when Zuko talks about his honor. His destiny. It fills me with rage that he lets his family dictate his path.

"Your honor!?" I shouted. I started stomping toward him. "Shut up with this honor thing! This is not your destiny! You understand what killing the avatar would do to the world? Of course you don't understand! Your running away because your afraid! Not because you feel the need to restore you honor." I grabbed the collar of shirt and pulled him to me and looked at him. My face filled with frustration and disappointment.

"You know what maybe I am afraid! Maybe I'm afraid my father will burn me to death this time! I am always the fool! I am looked down upon every single day! I am a fraud. I am not the great prince I am destined to be." He started to sob.

"Your going to throw everything we had away because your afraid? I'm here for you always, always Zuko. Please let me help you. Please don't run away from me." I started to cry too. It breaks my heart hearing him cry.

"I'm not the man you need. You need someone strong and who can protect you. Your right. Last time we talked, I am a coward. I'm running away from my problems and I don't want to accept the help that's offered to me."

"Zuko.. your are more than enough for me. I can't imagine myself with anyone but you. It's like you were put on this earth for me. Please! You don't have to go through this alone. You don't have to go through anything alone! Just please don't leave me!" I clung onto him and sobbed hysterically like a child. But in that moment my heart was being torn right out my chest.

"I'm sorry.. I love you." He didn't look at me, nor did he hug me back. He gently pushed me off and started boarding a boat. I couldn't believe it. He just walked away. He said I love you but did he even mean it? He didn't even look at me.

"So that's it?! Your just going to leave? After everything we've been through? Zuko Please!" I cried out to him. I begged on my knees even and pleaded but none of my efforts were enough to make him stay. I watched him disappear into the night. The walk home was depressing. It was raining, my pajamas were soaking wet and the smell of wet concrete and metal filled the air. I made my way home in the dark following the line of street lamps that have been extinguished from the rain. When I got home I sat on the edge my bed staring at the neatly tied scrolled placed on the table. I pick it up. I read it.

"My dear love, I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. But this is the only way I can find my own destiny. Everything you have taught me about life I will cherish forever. Our memories I will cherish forever. Don't think because I am leaving means I don't love you. Because I love you very dearly. You encouraged and inspired me in so many different ways. I will be back for you. Someday I won't need your help. I am tired of finding the strength to keep going here. I am tired of being ridiculed and silenced. I wouldn't have made it any longer staying here. Please try to understand. I want to be strong so I can help you. And be strong for you. I have thought of you every single day since I have met you and I will continue to think of you."

I cried for the rest of the night.

[nikolaiismysugardaddy]

I'm under your spell // Nikolai Gogol

pairings... Nikolai Gogol x Reader

contains...! fluff! gn!reader, knocked out reader

I apologize for any mistakes in advance - english is not my first language!

Extra: I was listening to Bring me the Horizon - Follow you when the idea popped up in my head. Take a listen to it, it's pretty nice. ♡

Hope you enjoy! xx

You woke up in an unfamiliar bed. The last memory you remembered was when you were in Sigma’s casino, playing poker with some drunk folks. You won the last round, and everyone around you lost all their money. And that’s all, you can’t recall a single motion after that. 

The moment you tried to sit up, you noticed that your clothes had been changed to some nice and cozy pajamas. Your head hurt so much, it felt like a hundred needles were stuck in your scalp. You turned to your left and noticed black and white striped pants placed atop your own clothes on a chair. 

That’s when another memory popped up in your mind: you went to the casino with Nikolai. He was the one who came up with this whole game-night idea. “Yeah, that’s right…” you hummed to yourself. “The only reason I agreed to this was because I wanted to confess to him…” You buried your blushing face in the blanket. In the very same moment, you felt something strange wrapped around your forehead. Bandages? You tapped the fabric carefully; now it was obvious that it was bandaged. 

“What the hell happened?” It was absolutely annoying, not remembering a single thing. A worn-out sigh left your mouth while you buried your face in the pillow. Your eyelids got heavier, and slowly, you fell asleep again. 

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

“No, no, she’s still asleep.” you heard someone talking not too far from you. “I told you, I can take care of her!.. What do you mean I can’t even take care of myself? Don’t joke around, I’m the clown to make puns like this, not you!” You yawned without a sound and rubbed your eyes but the other person in the room noticed it quickly. “Gotta hung up, Sigma.” He threw the phone on the pile of clothes. “My dear Y/N, how are you feeling?” He sat down on the edge of the bed. It was Nikolai. But… Why is he here? And where the hell am I by the way?

“I… I don’t know. My head hurts so much, but…” even talking felt inconvenient. “Hah, what happened?” 

A well-known goofy smile spread across his face. “Well! Quizz time, dove! Which version of the story is true?” He looked relieved that you were awake and hearing your voice put him in a better mood already. “Sigma’s version was something like, hmm, some customers were so jealous of you winning all the matches they accidentally dropped a bottle of wine on your head.” He mimicked Sigma the whole time, even distorted his voice to sound a bit like him. “The better version is mine, of course. Some customers got so mad at your impressive talent in poker that they wanted to destroy your knowledge as soon as possible and hit your pretty head with a bottle.” At the end of his monologue his face became distorted. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get his cool again. “So!” He placed his gaze on you, forcing a foolish smile on again. “Which one do you believe is the truth?”

“I think it’s somewhere in between the two.” Your voice was still creaky but somehow you felt a little better since you knew he was here. He looked pretty much unsatisfied by your answer but it wasn’t the right time for him to persuade you why his version was the real one. “Um, could you tell me where am I?” You tried to sit up but the pain was unbearable and some solid whines left your mouth. Nikolai unconsciously placed his hand on your chest and pushed you lightly back in the bed. His whole upper body was above yours.

“Don’t!” His eyes widened from the worry. “You’re at my apartment…” he muttered lightly and retracted his hands. 

“S-so this means y-you changed m-my clothes?” your face turned cherry red from the thought that Nikolai may have seen you naked. 

“Of course, I couldn’t leave you in those wine soaked clothes.” He smiled self-confidently and didn’t even realized what his words meant to you until he noticed the embarrassed look on your face. His eyebrows frowned before he bursted out laughing. “My, my, you know I got my magical cloak for a reason, do ya?” He placed his palm on your blanketed thighs. “I didn’t see anything.” His eyes were as gentle as ever. “But I can mention that it’s pretty difficult to dress someone down and then back up blindly.” His giggles filled the room. 

You playfully pinched his thighs while a warm smile spread across your face. The discomfort you felt before just disappeared. You didn’t even notice that you fixed your gaze on his face, your eyes exploring every small detail. All of a sudden, Nikolai laid his head down on your legs while a huge, relieving sigh left his mouth. “I’m glad you’re better.” he hummed into the blanket.

Your face flushed again and you felt some comfort and safety wash over you. “You worried a-about me?” every word you said felt insecure. It wasn’t so frequent for Nikolai to worry for someone. Of course, he had human feelings, but he defended himself from these kinds of feelings. 

“Mhm.” He buried his face into the sheets, making you feel even more nervous. “Another quizz! Why do you think I took you to the casino yesterday?” His voice wasn’t as cheerful as before; it was more likely shy now. 

“I don’t know? You told me you wanted to have fun and mess a bit with Sigma, as usual…” You finally felt enough strength in you to sit up, pulling your legs out from under Nikolai’s head. Quickly, he slid up next to you, slightly pushing his body against yours. Your heart skipped a beat from the unexpected closure. His eyes were filled with excitement, but somehow bittersweet. 

He took down the card from his eye to get a better look at you. “Well, surprise! It was all made up! So… do ya wanna know? The real reason?” he leaned really close to your face, his breath brushing your cheeks as he spoke. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body. 

“I would like to.” you couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. The tension between you two was palpable from the first time you met. Was he maybe feeling the same thing you were? 

“Excellent! Excellent!” He clapped his hands like a little child, but then his expression changed in the blink of an eye. He looked more serious than ever. “To tell you the truth… my head is haunting me nowadays, and I can’t really express this weird feeling, since I haven’t had something like this before.” There was a sense of vulnerability in his eyes. He held your hand gently in his. You made him feel like it was okay to let his guard down and trust someone else for once. “Sometimes I feel like I can’t even breathe when you’re away and it’s strange, ya know? I feel like you could drag me through hell and back, I wouldn’t mind at all, as long as I could hold your hand in mine. It’s crazy, ain’t it?” He laughed to himself. You looked into Nikolai’s eyes, and saw a mixture of emotions that you couldn’t quite decipher. 

You were speechless, unsure how to answer to his sudden revelation. The man you were secretly in love with had just declared his own love for you. “What do you mean?” Your hands were sweating, and your heart was beating loudly in your ears. The way he looked at you made you weak to the core. 

“You really don’t get it?” He sighed, his gaze never missing yours. He squeezed your hands and gave you a light peck on your lips, causing your heart to race even faster.

“W-what?” You couldn’t decide at this point if you were awake or still dreaming. You were sure he would never confess his feelings to you. 

“I’m saying I’m under your spell, dove.” He tugged a strand of your hair behind your ears to get a clear look at you. “I think I could sacrifice my freedom if your arms were my cage.” He whispered to you with some bitterness in his voice. “It feels weird, ya know?”

You couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words. You leaned in and gave him a soft, tender kiss in response to his words. 

“Yes, I know.” You murmured to his lips, savoring his taste on yours. And then all the energy you had before left your body. Your head fell to his shoulders. His hands wrapped around your body and pulled you into his lap, worried. The atmosphere around you felt too comforting, you felt vulnerable in his arms. 

“Are you alright? Do you feel dizzy, angel? Oh my, my, should I call Sigma?” He was troubled by your well-being so much that he even forgot that you did not answer his confession properly. 

You took a deep breath and tried to regain your composure, but the sensation of his warm embrace made it difficult to focus. “No, no, Kolya, it’s okay. It’s just so relieving; I wanted to confess my feelings towards you yesterday too.” You lifted your head and looked directly in his eyes. It was written all over his face that he was surprised by your words, even though he already sensed it. You have never seen him blush like this before. He tightened his arms around you, and buried his face in the careen of your neck. 

“I’ll never let you go, my precious little dove.”

[dianawinchester03]

Season 1, Episode 9 - Home

Series Masterlist

(Slight TW: Reader has a minor panic attack on the first scene. As someone who suffered with panic attacks frequently, I wrote it to the best that I could explain from my experience. You can skip if you'd like but it partly adds to the plot.)

________________________________

Y/N's POV

Fire blasting and burning down a house.

A woman with her two young kids at the window, screaming for help.

A lamp cord wrapped around Sam's neck choking him to death.

Dean with an ax in his hand, knocking down a wall, then a knife flies at him, stabbing him in his heart.

People screaming for mercy.

My eyes fly open after being screwed shut. Realizing it was all just a dream I try to catch my breath. I can feel my head stinging with a horrible headache. I woke up drenched in my own sweat that's running down my neck and forehead. I look over frantically at the beds next to me to see Sam and Dean still asleep on their respective beds. I push my covers off and run into the bathroom. Splashing my face with cold water.

What was that? Was that a vision? It couldn't be. I'm not psychic like my mom, if I was it would've shown up long before. Holy fuck. Am I late bloomer or some shit? It felt way to real to be just a dream. No no no this can't be happening. I couldn't be psychic. I can't be. It should've shown up sooner.

God how I going to explain this to the boys. Are they gonna hate me? I'm overthinking. If I don't stop I'll start to hyperventilate. Calm down girl CALM DOWN. Relax. Just count like dad always thought you when this happens.

I could feel my heart racing, it's beating escalating by the second. Practically pumping out of my chest. I struggle to get air into my lungs, I could feel my breathing falter as my mind swirls, the images of that family burning alive, the agony they went through. My palms begin to clam up and I could feel my head growing lighter.

"One...breath...Two...breath...Three..." I whisper to myself counting until ten. My back presses against the door as I slide down it. I curl into a ball, pulling my knees to my chest. Crying, begging for that to not be a vision. Please just be a dream. Please just be a dream. I don't want to be psychic. I can't be. I can't be. I know it's supposed to be a gift but I don't want it!!

I hear light knocking on the bathroom door, "Y/N/N? Is everything okay?" I hear Deans soft voice outside, concern seeping through his tone. I sniffle and scoot to the side, opening the door. His face drops when he sees me on the floor, my tear stained face buried in my hands.

"Princess...what's wrong?" He instantly wraps his arms around me, sinking in the floor next to me and I bury my face in his chest sobbing. I could feel everything in that dream. Everything that those dying people were feeling. "I-I d-don't wan-" I struggle to get the words out, coughing through my tears.

"Hey shhh, it's okay sweetheart. I've got you" He coos in my ear, patting my head soothingly. "Was it a nightmare?" He asks me gently. "I don't know" My voice cracking. "It's okay, you don't need to talk about it. I'm here. Just let it out" He whisper into my ear, giving me a kiss on my forehead and the top of my head.

________________________________

"Alright, I've been cruising some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig" Dean tells us but my mind is still stuck on the dream I had last night, currently I'm drawing the house I saw in my dream. Something about it seems so familiar but I can't pinpoint what or why.

I'm sitting across from him at the desk on their motel room while Sam is on his bed, drawing like me. "A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali, it's crew vanished" He says, taking a sip of his coffee. "And uh...we've got some cattle mutilations in West Texas" He continues to list. "Hey!" He calls out to me and Sam annoyed, we look up from our pads.

"Am I boring you two with this hunting evil stuff?" He asks us, glaring. "No. I'm listening. Keep going" Sam says quietly. "Yeah, me too. Continue" I say, looking back down at my pad with the drawing. "And here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times" Dean emphasized the last part.

"Any of these things blowing up your skirt, princess?" He asks me, waving his hand in my face. I scan over my drawing and something clicks in my head. "Wait, I've seen this." Sam says. "Holy shit." I whisper to myself. "What?" Sam asks going to his bag to get something.

I go into my bag and pull out an old picture my dad had with him, mom, John, Mary and a four year old Dean outside of their old house. "What're you guys doing?" Dean asks Sam. Sam pulls out an old picture of Mary and Dean. Comparing it to the picture he drew of a tree and it was identical to the tree in the picture behind them.

"Look at this" I show Sam the picture of the house that I drew and the picture of our parents and Dean as a kid, behind is John and Mary'a old house...identical to the one that I drew from my dream. Sam is stunned by this, "You saw it too..." He said lowly and I nod shakily.

"Dean. I know where we have to go next" I say shakily. "Where?" Dean asked confused. "Back home. Back to Kansas" Sam says and Dean seems shocked by this. "Okay, random. Where did that come from?" He asks us. "Alright, these pictures were taken infront of our old house, right?" Sam takes the picture from my hand and his picture, showing it to Dean.

"This is house where your mom died?" I asked. "Yeah." Dean confirms looking at the picture. "It didn't burn down completely like Y/N's parents house. They rebuilt it, right?" Sam asks. "I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you guys talking about?" Dean asks us confused. "Okay look. This is gonna sound crazy but the people who live in your old house...I think they might be in danger..." I trail off looking at Sam.

"We think they might be in danger" Sam says. "Why would you guys think that?" Dean asks. "Uh..just...um..Look just— You gotta trust us on this, okay?" Sam stutters trying to come up with an excuse, grabbing his bag and I go to grab mine. "Okay, whoa, whoa. Trust you?" Dean gets up from the table as we pack our stuff.

"Yeah" Sam says. "Come on guys. That's weak. You gotta give me a little more than that" Dean says. "I can't really explain it is all." Sam says. "Well, tough. I'm not going anywhere until you do" Dean says annoyed and Sam turn to him sighing. "I have these nightmares" Sam begins. "So do I" I add. "I've noticed" Dean says sympathetically, probably due to my episode last night.

"And sometimes...they come true" Sam says and Dean is stunned. "Come again?" Dean asks. "Look, Dean..I dreamt about Jessica's death for days before it happened." Sam tells him. "Sam, people have weird dreams man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence" Dean assured him, sitting on the bed.

"No. I dreamt about the blood dripping; her on the ceiling, the fire. Everything and I didn't do anything about it because I didn't believe it" Sam argues. "It's true Dean. Days before me and my dad argued. I dreamt about it, I dreamt about me leaving and before you try to feed me that psychology bullshit. I'm not gonna eat it. Just listen to us. Please." I plead with him and Dean sighs shaking his head.

"The day Jessica died...I had this erring feeling that something bad was gonna happen all day. Then we heard Sam scream...." I confess and Sam looks at me shocked. "Really?" He asks. "Yeah. I'm sorry Sam I didn't k-" I go to say but he cuts me off. "It's not your fault. It's okay. You don't need to apologize" He assures me with a small smile and I sigh.

"Look Dean. We're dreaming about that tree, about our house and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean. That's where it all started man. This has to mean something right?" Sam tries to reason frustrated. "I don't know" Dean says shaking his head.

"What do you mean you don't know?" I ask him frustrated. "Dean. You found me on the floor last night crying. It was because I dreamt that! Exactly what Sam saw, I did too!" I exclaim and he looks at me shocked. "I felt the pain, the misery, the anguish, everything. As if I was there" I tell him, tears forming in my eyes. Don't be a little bitch y/n, tough it out.

"This woman might be in danger. I mean this might even be the thing that killed our moms and Jessica!" Sam exclaims. "Alright. Just slow down would you?!" Dean yells, getting up from the bed and walking over to the desk. "I mean, first you tell me you two have got the Shining and then you tell me that I've gotta go back home. Especially when..." Deans voice is shaky as he trails off.

"When what?" Sam asks. "When I swore to myself that I would never go back there" Dean says sadly and my heart drops. I didn't even think about that. Dean saw everything that happened to his mom that night and then heard about everything that happened to mine. Of course he wouldn't want to go back. Gosh I feel so stupid and selfish now.

"Dean..." I say softly. "I'm sorry, I didn't think of it like that" I apologize, putting my hand on his shoulder comfortingly and he looks down sadly. "Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure" Sam pleads. And he looks back at Sam with anguish in his eyes, then back at me he sighs. "I know we do" He says understandably.

________________________________

The boys and I pull up to their old house, by just the look on Deans face you can tell it's already hard enough on him. "You gonna be alright, charming?" I ask him softly, concerned. "Let me get back to you on that, Princess" He says quickly, staring at the house.

We all exit the Impala and walk towards the house. I take the initiative to knock on the door and after a couple seconds a young blonde woman answers it...the same woman from my dream. My breath hitches in my throat when she comes into view and I notice Sam is taken back by it too. Holy fuck it was real.

"Yes?" She asks us sweetly after opening the door. "Sorry to bother you, ma'am. But uh we're with the Federal-" Dean goes to lie but Sam cuts him off. "I'm Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean and our best friend Y/N L/N. Umm...we used to live here. Y/N used to live down the block" Sam says, I notice the look of panic on Deans face when Sam spills the beans.

"You know, we were just driving by and the boys were wondering if we could come and see the old place" I say sweetly. "Winchester and L/N....Yeah that's so funny. You know I think I found some of your photos the other night" The woman says with a smile on her face. "You did?" Dean asks shocked.

She looks at us hesitantly for a second before inviting us in. "Okay, come on in" She opens the door wider and we all look at each other with a pleasant smile on our faces towards her and enter. She introduced herself as Jenny as we follow into the kitchen behind her to see a toddler boy, no older than 3, in his crib bouncing up and down chanting.

The second I entered, I felt a heavy sense in the house. I could feel a weight on my chest, like I couldn't breath when I entered. It felt dark, evil, brooding...I couldn't explain it but it wasn't good whatsoever. Maybe I'm just being paranoid.

"Juice, Juice, Juice" and a young girl probably around 10, seemingly doing homework at the kitchen dining table. "That's Richie. He's kind of a juice junkie." She introduces her son, going into the locked fridge and getting a sippy cup with juice.

"But hey. At least he won't get scurvy" He smiles at him, giving him his juice. "Sari, this is Sam, Dean and Y/N. Sam and Dean used to live here." Jenny tells her young daughter, Sari, at the dining table. "Hi" Sari says with a pleasant smile on her face. "Hey, Sari" I say sweetly while Sam and Dean wave at her.

"So you just moved in?" Dean asks. "Yeah. From Wichita" Jenny informs us. "You got family here, or..?" I ask curiously. "No, I just..uh..um..needed a fresh start, that's all" She stummers on her words as we nod. "So new town, new job— I mean, as soon as I find one. New house" She says with an awkward smile.

I look at the corner of my eye to see an unease but sad smile on Deans face. "So, how are you liking it so far?" Sam asks. She turns to us a bit unsure, "Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home...I mean, I'm sure you have lots of happy memories here...but this place has its issues" She puts it vaguely.

"What do you mean?" I ask concerned. "Well, it's just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights almost hourly." She explains and that sets alarms off in my head. "Well, that's too bad. What else?" Dean asks. "Um...Sinks backed up. There's rats in the basement" Jenny further informs us and Deans frown deepens.

She realizes how it might sound and quickly apologizes, "Im sorry. I don't mean to complain" She says sincerely but he smiles reassuringly. "No. Have you see the rats or have you just heard scratching?" Dean asks. "It's just the scratching, actually" She says lowly. "Mom?" Sari calls Jenny over.

"Ask them if it was here when they lived here" Sari says and our faces drop. "What, Sari?" Sam asks her. "The thing in my closet" She says. "Oh, no, baby. There was nothing in their closets. Right?" Jenny tries to convince Sari and herself, turning to us for back up. "Right. No, no, of course not" I tell Sari nicely with a smile on my face.

"She had a nightmare the other night" Jenny tells us. "I wasn't dreaming. It came into my bedroom and it was on fire" Sari insists and the boys and I share bewildered looks.

We're now walking out of their old house and as soon as we left, the feeling I was getting when we entered the house was gone. I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding. I've never felt this was on other hunts before, I can't tell why I felt like that in Sam and Deans old house. It makes no sense.

"You hear that? A figure on fire" Sam says a bit panicked as we leave the house, walking down the porch. "And that woman, Jenny, that was the women from your dreams?" Dean asks us. "Yeah" I confirm, "And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights. Both signs of a malevolent spirit" I list off as we walk towards the car.

"Yeah, well. I'm just freaked out that the two of you guys weirdo visions are coming true" Dean says roughly and I roll my eyes. "Thanks" I grumble sarcastically and his face drops when he remembers that my mom was psychic. "Y/N I'm so-" He goes to apologize but I cut him off. "Forget about that for a second" I say bluntly.

"The thing in the house, you think its the thing that killed our moms and Jessica?" Sam asks. "I don't know" Dean says frustrated. "Well, I mean. Has it come back or has it been there the whole time?" I ask. "Or maybe it's something else entirely guys. We don't know yet" Dean argues. "Well, those people are in danger, Dean. We have to get them out of that house" Sam defends.

"And we will." Dean says and goes to go into the car but I stop him, "No, we mean now" I argue. "And how you gonna do that huh? You got a story that she'll believe!?" Dean gets into my face and argues back. "Then what are we supposed to do?!" I yell frustrated, taking a deep breath.

________________________________

"We just need to chill out, that's all" Dean tells us as he filled up Baby with fuel. We're all at a gas station, Sam outside leaning against the car next to me while I'm smoking a cigarette. "If this was any other kind of job, what would we do?" I ask as I take one last drag from my cigarette before flicking it on the ground and crushing it with the heel of my boot.

Sam takes a deep breath, rubbing his hands together. "We'd try to figure out what we were dealing with. We'd dig into the history of the house." He answers, walking over to Dean who's by the trunk. "Exactly, except this time we already know what happened" Dean says. "Yeah but how much do we even know? How much do you actually remember?" I ask Dean gently, walking over to them and leaning against the trunk next to Sam.

"About that night you mean?" He asks. "Yeah" Sam says and Dean shakes his head. "Not much. I remember the fire. The heat...." Dean says taking a deep breath, reminiscing on the events of the unfaithful night. I could see the flash of emotions as he talks about it. "....then I carried you out the front door" Me and Sam head snap up when Dean says this.

"You did?" Sam asks surprised. "Yeah. Why. You never knew that?" Dean says casually. "No" Sam shakes his head. "And, uh, well you know Dad and Mr. L/N's stories as well as I do. Mom was...was on the ceiling. And so was Mrs. L/N. Whatever put them there was long gone by the time our dads found them" Dean says trying to suppress his emotions.

I just stare at the floor as he talks about it. A lump growing in my throat. I never knew my mom obviously. Granted neither did Sam. Hell, Dean knew my mom more than me. Dean used tell me about when he was little, my mom and dad used to babysit him every so often whenever John and Mary needed the assistance.

He always loved being around my mom because apparently she used to make him pie. Apple pie, his favorite. She used to sneak him slices to carry home because his mom didn't want him eating too much sweets. From what I can tell, they shared a really close bond.

He absolutely adored her and I can tell that when he found out the same thing happened killed my mom, it truly affected him. He lost two mother figures in a span of a couple months, I may have never known my mom but by the stories I've heard. I know she was an amazing woman that I'd wish to be like someday.

"And they never had any theories about what did it?" Sam asks Dean. "If they did, they kept it between themselves" Dean says, turning around to lean against baby with us, me in the middle of the boys. "God knows we asked them enough times" I scoff. "Okay, so if we're gonna figure out what's going on now...we have to figure out what happened back then...and see if it's the same thing" Sam says.

"Yeah. We'll talk to our dads friends, neighbors. People who were there at the time" Dean says nodding. "Does this feel like just another job to you fellas?" I ask ironically. Sam chuckles dryly but Dean doesn't answer. Taking it into thought before excusing himself, "I'll be right back, I gotta go to the bathroom" He says walking away.

"Yeah, me too" I say to Sam, walking towards the bathroom. I'm just a couple feet behind Dean, when I bend the corner I see him dialing a number into his phone and put it to his ear. "Dad....I know I've left you messages before. I've left F/N messages and so have Y/N. I don't even know if you get them" He clears his throat lightly.

"But I'm with Sam and Y/N. And we're in Lawrence...and there's something in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not...but.." He trails off before taking a deep breath. "I don't know what to do" His voice cracks when he says this and my heart sinks in my chest. I could just cry hearing the way he sounds so defeated. "So, whatever you and Mr. L/N are doing. If you two could just get here....Please" He pleads.

"I need your help, Dad" He finishes, sounding like he's in the verge of tears before hanging up the phone. He turns around to see me, his face dropping probably at the fact I just heard everything. "Dean..." My tone is sad, concerned and soft. As I say this, his head drops and it's like the dam broke and he couldn't hold back his tears.

I rush over to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, his arms wrap around my waist. I pull him close as he buries his face into my hair on the side of my neck sobbing. "Hey shhhh, it's okay darling. I've got you" I coo soothingly into his ear while he sobs softly, his body trembling. "We'll find them, I promise. Okay?" I pull away and take his face in-between the palm of my hands.

"I promise" I say again, a little more firmly. He nods weakly as I wipe away some of his tears with my thumb before pressing a kiss to his cheek and holding him again tightly. "I'm here, just let it out" I say softly as I rub my fingers in his hair.

________________________________

"So you, John Winchester and F/N L/N. You guys used to own this garage a long time ago?" Dean asks Guenthur. After calming down and leaving the gas station. We all decided to go to our dads' old garage they owned together with an old friend of theirs and ask him a couple questions. "Yeah, we used to. A long time ago" Guenthur says chuckling a bit, he then turns to us wiping his hands with his rag.

"Matter of fact, it must be 20 years since John and F/N disappeared. So why are the cops interested all of a sudden?" He asks us suspiciously. "Oh, we're reopening unsolved cases. The Winchester and L/N disappearances are a couple of them, seeing as they're closely related" I say professionally and the boys nod along in agreement.

"Well, what do you wanna know about John and F/N" Guenthur asks us. "Whatever you remember, you know? Whatever sticks out in your mind" Dean says. "Well, he was a stubborn bastard, I remember that. And F/N was a bit of a dick but boy that man could put down in a drinking contest" He tells us chuckling and we all chuckle along with him.

"And whatever the game, John hated to lose, you know? It was that whole marine thing. And F/N, despite whatever he had a heart of gold. He had this tough way about him, you know he's seen some shit" Guenthur chuckles and I nod along listening. "They sure loved their wives. Mary and M/N. And they dotted on their kids" He says.

I see Dean's face drop again at the mention of our moms. "But that was before the fires?" I ask. "That's right" Guenthur confirms. "They ever talk about what happened those nights?" Sam asks. "No. Not at first. I think they were in shock." He tells us. "Right. But eventually. What did they say about it?" I ask.

"They weren't thinking straight. John kept saying something caused that fire and killed Mary." Guenthur says. "They ever say what did it?" Dean asks. "Nothing did it. It was an accident. An electrical short in the ceiling or walls or something" Guenthur assures us. "I begged F/N to get him some help instead he bought into it and uh...." Guenthur explains to us and trails off, looking down.

"And what?" I insist. "Well they just got worse and worse" He tells us. "How?" Dean asks. "Oh, they started reading these strange old books that F/N had. F/N took him to this palm reader in town that was friends with M/N" He told us and Dean looks over at me. "Palm reader? Do you have a name?" He asks him. "No" Guenthur scoffs.

________________________________

Later we're by a pay phone and Sam's going through the phone book while Dean and I lean against baby. "So there are a few psychics and palm readers in town." Sam tells us. "There's uh, someone named El Divino. There's the mysterious Mr. Fortensky." He says the last part chuckling.

"Uh, Missouri Mosley. Some dude named—" He goes to continue but Dean cuts him off. "Wait wait. Missouri Mosley?" Dean asks. "What?" Sam asks confused. "That's a psychic?" He further questions. "Yeah. Yeah I guess so." Sam says and Dean gets off of baby and opens the backdoor, grabbing John's journal.

"Dad journal. Come here look at this" He tells us as he opens it and we walk over to take a look. "First page. First sentence. Read that." He hands me the book and Sam stands next to me. "I went to Missouri and I learned the truth. What F/N was telling me was true" I read out loud off the page and look back up at the boys.

"I always thought he meant the state" Dean says.

________________________________

After we found Missouri's shop location in the phone book. It wasn't too far so we hopped into baby and headed on over. Now sitting in the waiting area, a dark skinned middle aged woman comes out talking to a middle aged man.

"Don't you worry about a thing. Your wife is crazy about you" She assures the man, smiling. "Well, thank you" The man thanks her and leaves. When he leaves she looks at us and takes a deep breath, "Poor bastard. His woman is cold banging the gardener" She tells us and I cock my eyebrow at this.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asks and she turns to us. "People don't come here for the truth. They come here for good news" She tells us bluntly. "Well. Sam, Dean and Y/N, come on already. I ain't got all day" She says a bit annoyed and we sit there stunned. Guess she really is a psychic.

We follow behind her into what looks like her office. "Well, let me look at you" She smiles laughing. "You boys grew up handsome" She compliments them. "And you, Y/N. Oh you look just like your mother. As beautiful as ever" She says sincerely to me, a bit of tears in her eyes. "Thank you" I say softly.

She smiles at me and then turns to Dean. "And you were one goofy looking kid too" She turns to Dean laughing while me and Sam snicker. "You ain't wrong there" I mutter and Deans head snaps on my direction, giving me a slight glare. I scrunch my nose at him before flashing him a wink and he rolls his eyes scoffing, Missouri's eyes glances between us for a couple seconds with a sly smirk on her face.

She then takes Sam's hand with a smile, "Sam. Oh, honey" She gasps sadly, her smile dropping. Sam seems a bit weirded out by this. "I'm sorry about your girlfriend" She tells him sincerely. "And your fathers. They're missing?" She asks us and we're all surprised, taken back at her accuracy.

"How'd you know all that?" Sam asks. "Well...you were just thinking it just now" She tells us. "Where are they? Are they okay?" Dean asks concerned. "I don't know" She tells us. "Don't know? You're supposed to be a psychic, right?" Dean asks a bit annoyed. "Boy, you see me sawing some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician?!" She exclaims annoyed while Dean looks like a little boy being scolded by his parent.

Me and Sam stifle our laughter at Dean being told off. "I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please" She orders us, gesturing to some chairs and the boys take a seat. I don't hold back my laughter anymore. "I like you Ms. Moseley" I smile at her and she flashes me a grin. "Please. Call me Missouri" She says and I sit inbetween the boys.

"Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm gonna whack you with a spoon!" She suddenly snaps at Dean and he freezes. "I didn't do anything" He says defensively. "Well, you were thinking about it" She shoots back and he looks at us before shrugging. Me and Sam smile at the sight and stifle our laughter.

"Okay. So our dads. When did you first meet them?" Sam asks her. "They came for a reading. A couple months after Mary died, it was also a few days after M/N died" She says sadly, tears welling up in her eyes. "F/N referred him to me because M/N was a good friend of mine. I just convinced John about what was really out there in the dark because he wouldn't believe F/N. I guess you could say, I helped draw back the curtains for him" She explains to us.

"What about the fires?" Dean asked. "Do you know about what killed our moms?" I ask. "A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hoping I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing" She tells us. "And could you?" Sam asks and she shakes her head. "I don't..." She hesitates.

"What was it?" I ask shakily. "I don't know." She says. "Ohhhhh....but it was evil" Her voice goes low and my breath hitches. Missouri looks at me and narrows her eyes. "You felt it didn't you?" She asks me and I look down. I notice the boys heads snap over at me shocked. "I don't know what I felt. But it wasn't good" I say.

"So what? Y/N's psychic too?" Dean pipes up. "No" "Possibly" Me and Missouri say at the same time. "It's not possible" I shake my head. "I would've known by now" I say firmly and Missouri frowns. "There are such a thing as late bloomers. It is possible Y/N. You could be unintentionally blocking your abilities on your own" She tells me.

"How?" Sam asks. "I can't say. Only Y/N would know" She says gently, looking at me. I shake my head and I notice the boys give me a sympathetic look. "So, you think somethings back in that house?" Missouri asks us changing the subject which I am grateful for. "Definitely" Sam says nodding.

"I don't understand" Missouri sighs. "What?" I ask. "I haven't been back inside but I've been keeping an eye on the place and it's been quiet. They never rebuilt F/N's old house. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it acting up now?" She questions.

"I don't know. But our dads going missing and Jessica dying and now this house....all happening at once, it just feels like something is starting" Sam replies and I nod in agreement. "That's a comforting thought" Dean says sarcastically.

________________________________

We convinced Missouri to come with us back to Sam and Dean's old house to take a look at the place. Now knocking at the front door, Jenny answers with her son Richie on her hip. "Sam, Dean, Y/N" She breathes out a bit relieved, looking like she was just frightened. "What're you doing here?" She asks us.

"Hey, Jenny." Sam says softly. "Um, this is our friend, Missouri" Sam introduces Missouri. "If it's not too much. We were hoping to show her the old house. You know? For old times sake" Dean says nicely as Missouri smiles at Jenny who looks at us a bit awkwardly.

"You know what? This isn't a good time" Jenny denies and goes to close the door. "Listen Jenny, it's important- OW!" Dean tries to budge but Missouri smacks him upside his head. "Give the poor girl a break. Can't you see she's upset?" Missouri snaps at him while Sam and I bit back our laughter.

"Forgive this boy. He means well. He's just not the sharpest tool on the shed. But hear me out" Missouri turns to Jenny, pleading with her nicely while Dean glares at her. Sam and I are shocked by this but try to stifle back our snickers. "About what?" Jenny asks, exasperated.

"About this house" Missouri states. "What're you talking about?" Jenny asks us but I get the sense she knows more than she's letting on. "I think you know what she's talking about" I chime in, giving her a knowing look and she looks down guiltily. Missouri flashes me a small smile before turning to Jenny.

"You think there's something in this house. Something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?" Missouri adds and Jenny takes a deep panicked breath. "Who are you?" She asks us. "We're people who can help. Who can stop this thing. But you're gonna have to trust us just a little" Missouri says calmly and Jenny hesitates a little bit before obliges, letting us in.

"If there's a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it" Missouri says as we walk into Saris room. "Why?" Sam asks. "This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened" She informs us. Sam looks visibly nervous, his Adam's apple bobs as he takes a look around the room.

As I look around the room I could feel the darkness surrounding the room that I felt earlier, this time. It's a lot heavier, more potent. It didn't feel like just one thing. It felt like there's a ton of dark shit in here and it's not letting up easily.

Dean seems a bit nervous too as he pulls out his EMF meter, powering it up. Missouri turns to him and asks, "That an EMF?" He looks up, "Yeah" He responds. "Amateur" She scoffs and he glares at her a bit. She walks around the room, touching various items and Deans EMF goes off a bit, the red lights and noise blurring.

"I don't know if you kids should be disappointed or relieved but this ain't the thing that took your moms" She tells us and we're all stunned. "Are you sure? How do you know?" Sam asks shakily. "It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It's something different" She explains to us.

"What is it?" Dean asks and she walks over to the closet, opening it. It felt like a flash of energy just came out of it as she opened it. "Not it. Them. There's more than one spirit in this place" Missouri states and I gasp lowly. "You felt it too didn't you. Don't deny it" She turns to me.

"I-" I stutter on my words, not able to explain. I can't be psychic. I just shrug, not looking her in her eyes that are narrowed in my direction."What're they doing here?" Dean asks. "They're here because of what happened to your family" She says, walking back to us. "You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walks this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes wounds get infected." She explains.

"I don't understand" Sam says. "This place is a magnet for paranormal energy" She elaborates and turns looking around the room. "It's attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead" Missouri says morbidly and I feel a pain in my chest. "You said there was more than one spirit" I say.

She turns to me and nods in confirmation. "There is" She says and walks back into the closet. "I just can't quite make out the second one" Missouri says and asks me. "Can you?". I struggle to answer. "I don't know. But all I know is this don't feel good at all" I say shakily. "Well one things for damn sure. Nobody's dying in this house ever again" Dean states firmly.

"So whatever is here, how do we stop it?" He asks Missouri.

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We're all now sitting downstairs in Jenny's living room and Missouri set out a bunch of stuff on the table. "So what is all this stuff anyway?" Dean asks curiously as he sits by the table. I'm sitting next to him, my chair turned backwards with me straddling it and Sam standing next to me, leaning against the table with his hands.

"Angelica Root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt. A few other odds and ends" She lists off, pointing at each item. "Yeah? What are we supposed to do with it?" I ask. "We're gonna put them inside the walls, in the north, south, east, west corners on each floor of the house" Missouri explains.

"We're gonna be punching holes in the drywall, Jenny's gonna love that" Dean replies with sarcasm, looking at me and Sam. "She'll live" Missouri retorts. "And this will destroy the spirits?" Sam asks. "It should. It should purify the house completely" Missouri responds with a nod.

"We'll each take a floor. But we work fast. Once the spirits realize what we're up to....things are gonna get bad" She warns us.

We got Jenny to leave the house for a couple hours so we can work on the house. Missouri is outside escorting her to her car. Sam's takes upstairs, while Missouri takes the basement and Dean and I took the kitchen. Dean pulls out an axe and starts breaking the wall with it, putting the bag inside....just like my dream....if it's true then that means...

"Holy shit" I gasp. "What?" Dean asks me concerned. "You breaking the wall. I dreamt that. And I dreamt Sam getting strangled with a cord" I tell him quickly. "Duck!" I yell and pull him to the ground. The knife was flying towards us, it stabs the cupboard above us.

We grab a table, knocking it down and using it as a shield, knives stabbing through it. "You dreamt me getting stabbed too, didn't you?" He asks me and I nod quickly. "Oh shit. Sam!" I gasp, realization takes over Deans face and we bolt upstairs.

We run into the room to see Sam on the ground with the cord wrapped around his neck, gasping for breath. "Sam!" Dean exclaims, he tries to pull the cord off, grunting but it wouldn't budge. I see the bag with the stuff Missouri gave us to put in the walls next to Sam.

I take it up and kick a hole in the wall which part Sam was supposed to put and and chuck it in the hole. Suddenly a blast of white light takes over the house, temporarily blinding us. I cover my head with my arms and Dean does the same.

I rush over to Sam to see the cord has loosen. He takes a deep breath, catching his breath and we pull it out from around his neck, holding him up. I sigh in relief as I hold my best friend in my arms. Dean lets out a sigh too, holding his little brother.

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Later we're all back downstairs in the kitchen, that's in quite the mess. "You sure this is over?" I ask Missouri. "I'm sure" she says, turning to me. "Why? Why do you ask?" She questions. "Never mind. It's nothing I guess" I say and we hear the front door open and close.

I'm still a bit unsure about this whole thing, the place still feels a bit heavy but maybe I'm just being paranoid. I notice Sam seems uneasy about it too but he chooses not to say anything. The light turns on, "Hello, we're home" Jenny announces her presence, walking in with Richie on her hip and holding Saris hand.

She looks around in shock at the mess the place is in. "What happened?" She asks us worried. "Hi. Sorry uh. We'll pay for all of this" Sam apologizes and I notice Dean look at him like 'We will?'. "Don't you worry. Deans gonna clean up this mess" Missouri tells her and his eyebrows cock up at this.

"Well, what are you waiting for boy? Get the mop" She orders him in a motherly tone and he goes to walk off. "And don't cuss at me" She snaps and he turns back surprised. I hold back a snicker at his reaction as he goes to get the mop, mumbling to himself angrily. I chuckle at the interaction, my heart swelling a bit at the cute look in Deans face when he's mumbling like a child.

He's so freaking adorable. Wait. What? I think to myself. Missouri head snaps to me when I have this thought, a sly look on her face and she flashes me a wink. I look at her confused and she comes closer to me and whispers, "You'd be surprised at what he thinks of you". I cock my eyebrow in confusion and she shakes her head in amusement.

We all leave the house after cleaning up in a orderly fashion, turning back to Jenny and waving at her as we leave.

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"Alright so tell me again. What are we still doing here?" Dean asks us a bit annoyed. We're all outside of their old house in the Impala. "I don't know. I-I just uh-" I stutter on my words. "We still have a bad feeling" Sam pipes up. "Why?" Dean asks up exasperated. "Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubinstein thing. The house should be clean. This should be over" He adds turning to us.

"Yeah. Well, probably. But we just wanna make sure. That's all." I tell him and he sighs, leaning back in his seat. "Yeah, well. Problem is. I could be sleeping in a bed right now" Dean groans. I look at the window to Jenny's room, she's banging on her window and it looks like she's screaming "Help!".

I nudge Sam roughly. "Sam. Dean!" I exclaim and we all rush out of the car. "You two grab the kids. I'll get Jenny!" He tells us as we run up the porch and knock the front door down. I run into Richies room and grab him, holding him to my chest. "Help! Please!" I hear screaming from Saris room.

When I run in I see Sam standing stunned at the door, what looks like a figure of a man in bursting flames while Sari is on her bed screaming for help. Sam rushes in and I hold Richie to my chest, clutching him closely. "Come here. Come here. Don't look. Don't look" He goes in and gets Sari, picking her up on his hip and we all run downstairs.

Sam rests down Sari and I rest down Richie when we get downstairs. "Alright. Sari. Take your brother outside as fast as you can. Don't look back okay, sweetie?" I tell her gently. Suddenly something grabs me and Sam by our feet, pulling up down the hall causing Sari to scream. Grabbing her brother she runs outside where Dean and Jenny should be.

The force pulls us, dragging us across the hall and into the kitchen, knocking us into the table. The force throws us all across the room, into the fridge, into the wall, across the floor, into the counter, like we're rag dolls. Me and Sam groan in pain getting to our feet.

We hear the door getting knocked doing, assuming it's Dean we go to bolt for the door but the force grabs us again, throwing us into the wall and we grunt in pain. "God dammit!" I scream, trying to pull out of the force as Sam does the same but fails while screaming.

The door finally breaks and we hear Dean yell, "SAM! Y/N!". But the flaming figure that we saw in Sari's room earlier appears again in front of us, making its way slowly to us. Our faces contort in pure fear. I look at the figure properly, my heart beating out of its chest when it comes into view clearly.

It was familiar...too familiar. A face I only saw in old pictures. "What the fuck?" Sam whispers stunned. "No fucking way" I breath out in shock. "Sam? Y/N?" We hear Deans footsteps and voice in the house. When he walks into room and aims his gun at the figure, ready to shoot.

"No! Don't! Don't!" Me and Sam yell for him to stop. "What? Why?!" Dean yells back in confusion. "Because we know who it is" Sam says. "We can see her now" I say and the figure diminishes the fire to reveal...Mary. Sam and Deans mom. Dean lowers his gun in shock, fear, confusion. "Mom?" Dean says softly. Mary takes a few steps closer to him with a small smile on her face.

"Dean" She says sweetly and tears well up in Deans eyes. She then walks over to Sam who has breathing is rugged but smiles tearfully looking at his mother. "Sam" She says softly and then turns to me, the smile growing wider on her face. "Y/N" She says nicely, tears welling up in her eyes when she turns back to Sam.

"I'm sorry" She says apologetically to him, tears streaming down both our faces. "For what?" Sam asks tearfully and she doesn't answer, she just has this look of guilt on her face. She then turns and looks up to where Sams nursery was. "You get out of my house. And let go on my son and his best friend" She demanding tone.

Right after she says this, flames engulf her own body and the burst of flames fly up to the ceiling. The boys and I try to turn our heads away but we're too stunned by what's happening. After that, the force that was pinning us to the wall falters and we're free.

The weight on my chest that I felt earlier was suddenly gone. The brooding darkness that was there, erased. We look around, gasping for breath. "Mom?" Dean whispers, looking around. Sam and I walk forwards from against the wall, "Now it's over" I say to the boys nodding.

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The next day after the events in their old house, the boys and I are outside by the Impala and Jenny hands Dean some of the old pictures she found of their family. There's one with a young John and Mary, one with my parents when they were young, another with all of our parents, one with a four year old Dean holding 6 month old Sam and another with Dean holding a 6 month old me.

Dean smiles at the photo and looks at Jenny, "Thanks for these" He says gratefully. "Don't thank me, they're yours" She responds with a smile. He hands me the picture and I put it in a box with their old stuff, I walk back up to the steps by the front door where Sam is sitting and I take a seat next to him, leaving Jenny and Dean to talk.

"Well, there are no spirits in there anymore" Missouri tells us as she exits the front door. "This time for sure" She assures us confidently, taking a seat next to me. "Not even my mom?" Sam asks. "No" Missouri says softly, shaking her head and Sam nods. "What happened?" I ask her.

"Mary's spirt and the poltergeist's energy, they cancelled each other out" She explains to us and then looks at Sam. "Your mom destroyed herself going after the thing" Missouri says sadly. "Why would she do something like that?" Sam asks tearfully. "Well to protect her boys and their best friend, of course" She assures us and we nod with tears in our eyes.

"Sam...Y/N, I'm sorry" She apologizes. "For what?" Sam asks a bit confused. "You two sensed it here, didn't you? Even when I couldn't" She tells us. "What's happening to us?" Sam asks. "I know I should have all the answers but....I don't know" Missouri says honestly. "Am I psychic like my mom?" I ask her shakily.

"It's possible. Very possible. Even if you don't want the gift, it's yours to bear. Only time will tell" She says softly, I drop my head nodding."Sam, Y/N. You guys ready?" We hear Dean call out to us. We get up and walk towards the Impala. "Thanks Sam and Y/N" Jenny thanks us and we give her a nod.

"Don't you kids be strangers" Missouri calls out to us. I turn to her with a small smile on my face. "We won't" Dean says smiling back at her. "See you around" She says and Jenny gives us a small wave. We hop into Baby, Sam in shotgun and me in the back, Dean starts the ignition and we're off.

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Third Person POV

Missouri enters her shop, closing the door behind her. She feels presences in her home, resting her bag down she sighs. "That boy and that girl. I mean, they have such powerful abilities. Why they couldn't sense their own fathers, I have no idea" She says, turning around in the seats where Sam, Dean and Y/N were earlier is John Winchester and F/N L/N in their place.

John takes his face out of his hands and looks at Missouri. "Mary's spirit? Do you really think she saved the kids?" John asks her, clasping his hands infront of him. "I do" Missouri confirms and John looks down at his wedding band tearfully.

"And M/N's spirit. Was she there at all?" F/N asks a bit hopefully but Missouri shakes her head. "I can assure you, she's resting peacefully. I've made note of that" She assures him, tears in her eyes thinking of her deceased friend. "John Winchester and F/N L/N I could just slap you two. Why don't you two go talk to your children?!" She angrily shouts at the grown men.

"We want to" F/N says shaking his head, John still looking down at his wedding band tearfully. "You have no idea how much we wanna see them. But we can't" John says, looking up. "I just want to see my little girl, and give her a hug. But not yet" F/N says, holding back tears. They both look over at Missouri.

"Not until we know the truth" John says, determined.

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Authors Note: This chapter is unedited so please excuse any mistake, I will be editing it when I get a chance. I hope whoever is reading enjoys!! I really do pray you guys love Y/N's character because bits and pieces of her personality come from me. I'm having so much fun writing this so don't be ghost readersss so please comment and tell me your thoughts and opinions.

Next chapter is out in a couple days so be sure to look out for that.

Xoxo.

[animeomegas]

AMY XD my first thought was an appalled "seven?? what if they're all in heat at once"

I have two actual cats and it's already a lot to deal with the scrambling, meowing, play-fighting, cleaning up and feeding them...

and then i looked it up and apparently "Heat cycles in cats last from several days to two weeks or longer, and repeat every two to three weeks"

LISTEN if I want seven catboy butlers to serve me in a mansion, then that's my own business and I won't be judged for it 😤 @ikemenomegas

I own zero cats and have never owned a cat nor will ever own a cat. Catboys are the limit for me with cat related things XD They key is to also make them butlers or maids so they can clean up after themselves 😌

But oooooh, catboy in heat..... yes....

... n-sfw below...

Being woken in the middle of the night is always a disorientating experience, no matter the reason. It is understandable then when you woke up pinned underneath a writhing, hot to the touch, catboy, that it took your brain a few minutes to turn itself back on and comprehend the situation you were in.

"Kitten?" you asked groggily, wrapping an arm around him. You almost recoiled at the sheer heat radiating off him. "You're burning up, baby, what's wrong?"

He hissed at you, clearly disliking the question, but only a second later the hiss devolved into a whine and he had sunk his teeth into your shoulder and straddled your hips with his. Your hands automatically flew to rest of the waistband on his pyjama shorts.

"'m in heat, master, please," he mewled into your shoulder. "Need you to breed me, I need it, please, I'll be good." He ground his hips down onto yours and all of a sudden your brain turned properly back on.

The heat, the scent, the hard cock being enthusiastically pressed against you, the way he was breathing on your neck, everything flooded in all at once.

You sat up suddenly, forcing him back from you, the momentum toppling him onto his back. He didn't seem to mind, if anything he seemed very ready for you to pin him down and manhandle him into your chosen position.

Desperate for you attention and affection, he grabbed one of your hands and stuck two of your fingers in his mouth. He grazed the sides of your fingers with his sharp, little teeth before sucking on them with a wanton moan, gently massaging the digits with his sandpaper tongue.

"Fuck," you whispered, barely holding back your own moan. He'd gone into heat in the middle of the night, an entire week earlier than expected and with no warning signs. You still didn't have your meal prep finished, or all of his favourite blankets washed, and your room was tragically bare of the water bottles you'd need in the down moments. Not being prepared left an anxiety bubbling in your stomach, but that only made you feel more protective over your precious kitten.

"Shh, settle down, kitten, I've got you." You ran a hand over his head, rubbing behind his left ear in the way that he liked and he looked up at you with watery eyes, still sucking on your fingers.

It was the start of a very long week.