#and the man that told me i was pretty in a nightmare of mine but then vanished | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pitchsidestories · 2 months ago

Text

all's well that ends well II Lucy Bronze x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2010

a/n: hi, we hope you enjoy the full length oneshot to the snippet we posted last week. 🫶🏻

“You!”

Your voice was high-pitched and cracked slightly at the end of the question.

You didn’t care.

There was no way, she was actually here. You had heard the rumours but hadn’t believed any of it. And now she was actually here, right in front of your eyes, on the Chelsea training grounds.

She actually did it.

You watched her through narrowed eyes, subconsciously clenching your jaw.

She smiled brightly at you: “Yes, me. Good morning to you too, pretty girl.“

There it was, that typical smug smile. Lucy Bronze, just like you wanted to forget her.

“Don’t call me that.“, you warned her.

Bad enough that she was here, you didn’t need her stupid remarks.

She remained unbothered, teasing you some more: “Oh, someone woke up in a bad mood.“

“No, only still stuck in a nightmare called Lucy Bronze.“, you replied, taking in the unfamiliar sight of her in the blue Chelsea training shirt.

From the look on her face she clearly interpreted it as you checking her out.

You cringed.

“A nightmare, huh?”, she repeated with a grin.

You wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid self-assured smile off her face.

“Dressed in Chelsea colours. Why did you come back? And of all clubs you had to choose mine?!”

You half-expected her to crack another joke but instead, her face turned serious.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t come here for you. I came for what the club had to offer.“

“In other words, Barca didn’t want you anymore.“, you taunted her.

You watched, waiting to see her face fall but it never did. She just cocked her head and replied: “Cold. But essentially yes, they didn’t guarantee me a spot in the starting squad so I left.“

Before you could stop yourself, you released a humourless laugh.

Following Lucys confused look, you explained: “You always leave when it gets uncomfortable. See you on the pitch.“

You turned around and took exactly two steps towards the football pitch before you heard Lucy catching up to you.

“What’s that supposed to mean? If you really think that you don’t know me well enough.“, she asked, her voice finally conveying some anger.

“Oh, I do know you.“, you shrugged and left her standing on the sideline of the pitch, joining your teammates for the warm-up.

To your surprise, she jogged up next to you, clearly not done with the conversation yet. “Sure. Of course you know me better than I know myself. You’ve always been such a know-it-all.“

You huffed in offence but before you could protest, she increased her pace and left your side.

In her place, Sam Kerr appeared with a curious look on her face: “Wait, you and Bronzey got history?”

“Yes, it was a long time ago though and I don’t want to talk about it, okay.”, you revealed reluctantly.

“Aw man, I love a good break up story.”, the Australian forward replied pouting.

“I know you do Sammy, but you won’t hear that one.”, you told her.

“I’ll figure it out sooner or later.”, she declared confidently.

“Don’t you dare asking Lucy about us.”, you warned your teammate.

“I’m sure she’ll tell me.”, Sam responded winking.

Much to her actual surprise the English defender did open up towards her, once it was just the two of them in an empty room.

“Our story is quick to tell we were together for quite a while, I went to another club, so we tried to do long distance, yet it didn’t work out.”

“And she thinks it’s your fault?”, Sam questioned.

“Obviously and she’s talking about comfortable all she has ever known is English football.”, the older woman shrugged.

The forward took a moment to think about what she just said before humming. “Oh, this is going to be a very interesting season.”

“Admittedly, I did a few things wrong in the past and there isn’t much I regret but these I do.” Memories of the moment Lucy regretted the most passed behind her inner eye.

“That’s too much information. I didn’t come for a deep dive.”, Sam intervened chuckling.

“Come on girls, don’t dally.”, Millie who stood in the doorframe called for them.

“She thinks she has something to say around here now that she has an honours doctorate.”, the forward rolled her eyes playfully.

“We’re ready, Doctor Bright.”, the dark-haired defender reassured the blonde with a teasing grin on her lips.

“Good to hear, Doctor Bronze.”, Millie answered happily.

A few days had passed since your conversation with your ex-girlfriend. During and post training you tried your best to ignore her. You were about to leave the Chelsea grounds, but a familiar voice held you back.

“Can we talk?”

“Now?”, you wanted to know.

“Yes.”, Lucy nodded.

“Fine, but be quick, I don’t have much time.”, you stated in an icy tone crossing your arms impatiently.

“Then you’ve to make some time.”, she emphasized.

“What do you want to talk about?”, you asked short-temperedly.

“About us. This is getting ridiculous. How’re we supposed to play together when you ignore me all the time?”, the defender countered eagerly awaiting your response.

The late afternoon light enhanced her tan, and her green eyes were glowing. You couldn’t help to admire the woman in front of you, but when you remembered what happened between you two and acid formed in your mouth, so you spat out words as cruel as the taste of that. Sentences you knew would hurt her.

“You’re less quick and sharp nowadays. Also how am I supposed to trust you on and off the pitch?”

Lucy blinked at you. Her face frozen, not slightest slip. Shaking her head, she replied: “You really have a way of making someone feel welcome here.“

“I’m normally more welcoming to our new signings… making sure they settle well into London…“

You stopped yourself from continuing and bit your lip. Why did you now feel the need to prove to her that your were actually good person?

“But not to me, I got it.“, she said, almost reading your exact next thought. She should know that you didn’t welcome her here.

“You’re a whole different story.“, you said plainly.

Your eyes suddenly caught sight of her arms crossed in front of herself. The little hairs stood up, small bumps forming around them. She had goosebumps.

“You’ll need a jacket. The evenings can already get cold.“, you advised her, trying to let no empathy seep through.

At once, you felt glad that you remembered to wear a long-sleeved shirt to training. You absentmindedly pulled the sleeves over your hands.

Your ex just rolled her eyes: “You act like I’ve never been to England.“

“You’re freezing. I can see that from here.“

“Yeah, this is obviously not Barcelona. But I’m not new here.“, she replied with clear annoyance.

You refused to let her have the point. “True but you never played in London though.“

“No, I didn’t.“

“See.“

It was petty but you won. You turned to walk away from her like you had done so many times in the past few days but again she wouldn’t let you. Her hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back in one swift movement.

“Where are you going? We’re not done here.“

You sighed in frustration: “I won’t ignore you in training anymore. Happy?”

“No.“

“There’s more?”, you frowned at her.

“Of course, it’s not done with that.“

Eyebrows raised, you waited for an explanation: “So?”

“We should talk about us too. And what happened.“, she suggested.

Your heart stopped for a second, your lungs felt deprived of air and you couldn’t do anything but stare at her for a second. There was no way you would bring that break up back again. You both knew how it had ended.

“Another time, okay?”

“Y/n…“

You forced yourself to a half-smile: “See you tomorrow.“

You found yourself in the starting line-up for the next friendly at Stamford Bridge. You would be playing on the right wing, in front of Lucy. And despite all your doubts, the game went well.

More than well, to be honest. It was like you had never been apart. Lucys typical runs forward gave you the opportunity to move towards the centre and position yourself in the penalty areas. One of her crosses was so precise that you only had to tilt your head to put the ball into the net.

“Amazing game, girls. The season is off to a great start.“, Millie cheered as she high-fived you way too hard.

“Yeah, thanks for the assist, Luce.“

“You’re welcome. I still know your movements on the pitch.”, Lucy waved it off while the look on her face was melancholic. There was a hint of fondness in her voice too.

“And I’m sorry for what I said about your playing style.”, you bit your lip guiltily.

“I know.”, the defender sounded almost amused.

“Good.”, you sighed relived.

“Don’t worry.”, the older woman added quickly.

“Bye Luce.”

“See you, y/n.”, Lucy watched you go with a sad smile.

“Lucy? You two are so weird.”, Millie tapped on the dark-haired defender’s shoulder.

Irritated she turned around to face her team’s captain. “What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you finally talk about it?”, the blonde asked frustrated.

“I try to, but she always runs away.”, the older player explained annoyed.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out for you.”, Millie promised.

And the Chelsea captain stayed true to her words.

It was the next day when you found yourself locked in a room with your ex-girlfriend.

“Sam, Erin, that’s not funny, let us out!”, you commanded, hammering your hands against the door. You felt like a mouse stuck in a trap.

“Do you hear anything, Erin?”, you heard the Australian ask the Scottish midfielder. The reply wasn’t audible to your ears because Lucy had started to speak.

“They’ll open the door again once we talked about us.”

“That’s so childish of them. To talk about us? That’s history.”, you grumbled.

“Of course. It’s obviously not history for you if you keep pouting about it.”, the defender observed

“I’m not pouting, I’m so over you at this point.”, you corrected her.

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”, your former lover sounded unconvinced.

“You really broke my heart back then.”, you confessed quietly, your voice full of the sadness and hurt from days in the past when the breakup was still fresh like a open wound you thought would never heal.

“I didn’t do anything.”, she remarked calmly.

“Yes, you did you left.”, you disagreed fiercely.

“I left because I had to. After you assured me, long distance would work.”, Lucy defended herself.

A grieving smirk appeared on your face, you remembered your old self, what a fool she has been. “I thought it would, but it didn’t that happens.”

“Yes, it happens. So, stop blaming me for leaving it was a mutual decision.”

“It wasn’t your fault- Cam we leave now?”, you directed the question towards the people who kept you in that room.

“Nope, you know what we want to hear.”, Sam declared grinning.

“Lucy, what does she want from us?”, you wanted to know.

“I’ve no idea., she admitted before continuing, we won’t get back together, Sam. That won’t work.”

“Exactly.”, you added quickly.

“That’s not what we want. Keep talking and you’ll see.”, the forward insisted.

“What if we begin again? Like we just met for the first time.”, Lucy suggested.

“Wait, what?”, you frowned.

“We can start over.”, she offered in a hopeful tone.

“You mean as in strangers who get to know each other?”

“Maybe.” , she nodded knowing fully well you’d never be a stranger to her.

“And we don’t know where this leads to?”, you felt your heart flutter against your chest, the door was open again and you both stepped into the unknowing. The past was the past the future was uncertain, all you could influence was the present.

All's well that ends well. Yet this was only the beginning and the closing of one chapter of your relationship.

#lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso oneshot #woso community #engwnt #lionesses x reader #lionesses #barclays wsl

250 notes · View notes

doctorbitchcrxft · 9 months ago

Text

Wendigo | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, Dean's a dick but so is the reader

Word Count: 8817

A/N: Happy Saturday! Enjoy the next chapter!! Taglist/Requests are open!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

You were curled up against the backseat of the Impala writing in your journal and humming along to Dean’s Foreigner cassette tape when Sam jerked awake in the front seat. You jerked up as well, concerned.

Dean shot his brother a worried look. “You okay?”

Sam blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

“Bull. Nightmare?” you asked.

The younger brother just cleared his throat in response.

“You wanna drive for a while?” Dean asked.

You and Sam gave him an incredulous look.

“Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that,” he laughed.

“Just thought you might want to. Never mind.” He rolled his eyes and returned them to the road.

“Look, man, you’re worried about me,” Sam sighed. “I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay.”

His brother just hummed in response.

“I’ll take you up on that driving offer, though,” you chimed in.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“And I told you I wasn’t listening.”

“Dick.”

Dean just scoffed in response.

Sam’s unfolding of a map brought the conversation back on track. “All right, where are we?”

“Just outside of Grand Junction,” you answered. You leaned over his shoulder and pointed at the spot labeled “Grand Junction” and drew a trail with your finger over to a spot labeled with the coordinates Dean had found in John’s journal.

Sam hesitated before speaking again. “You know what? Maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon.”

Dean shook his head. “Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—”

“We gotta find Dad first,” Sam finished.

“Dad disappearing and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence.”

“Wait, showing up again?” you asked. Even after poking around at Stanford, this was the first you’d heard of a previous encounter with the creature.

“I thought Sam would’ve told you,” Dean said.

“Told me what?”

Sam turned to face you. “You remember what I said about my mom dying? She died the same way Jess did.”

You nodded in solemn understanding.

The car went quiet again; the silence only broken by the older brother. “Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do.”

Sam scanned the map again. “It's weird, man. These coordinates he left us. This Blackwater Ridge.”

“What about it?” you asked, putting your chin on Sam’s shoulder to look at the map.

“There's nothing there. It's just woods.” He put down the map, looking past your head at Dean. “Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?”

Dean just shrugged in response.

The three of you found yourselves in a ranger’s station in Lost Creek National Forest just outside of Blackwater Ridge. You and Sam scanned a three-dimensional map of the forest atop a large table in the center of the room.

“So Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote.” The brunet tapped his finger against the ridge’s label on the map. “It's cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place.”

However, his brother’s attention could not be pulled away from a picture on the wall. “Dude, check out the size of this freaking bear.”

You walked over to him, and he was right. The thing was massive. The man standing behind its corpse looked like a dwarf in comparison.

“There’s about a dozen or so grizzlies in the area,” you added.

You and the boys were startled by a ranger’s voice coming from behind you. “You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?”

“Oh, no, sir, we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper,” Sam assured him, laughing awkwardly.

Dean grinned and raised a fist. “Recycle, man.”

‘I could hit him. Jackass.’

The ranger obviously did not believe him. “Bull.”

Your eyes flicked to Dean, who was unmoving.

“You're friends with that Haley girl, right?” the ranger continued.

“Yes. Yes, we are, Ranger— Wilkinson.” Dean faltered only to read the ranger’s name tag.

“Well I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons now, is it?”

You shook your head.

“You tell that girl to quit worrying, I'm sure her brother's just fine.”

“We will.” Dean paused only for a moment. “Well, that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?”

“That is putting it mildly.”

You laughed. ‘I’m sure we’d get along great.’

“Actually,” Dean stopped the ranger from leaving the room. “You know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brother's return date.”

The ranger eyed Dean curiously, but still got him a copy of the permit.

Dean laughed smugly as the three of you left the station, waving the paper around.

“What are you, five?” you asked him.

“Listen, sweetheart, I consider this a major success.” You quirked a brow at him, mildly annoyed he called you that stupid name again. “This eliminates a lot of the groundwork we normally have to do.”

“Fair point,” you shrugged.

Sam broke the somewhat comfortable silence. “Are you cruising for a hookup or something?”

Considering the thought you’d just had, you were taken slightly aback. “What do you mean?”

“The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?” Sam was more talking pointedly at Dean and not you. You came to a stop on your respective sides of the Impala.

You couldn’t quite see Dean over the top of the car. “I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?”

You could practically feel the look Dean was giving Sam.

“What?” the brunet scoffed.

“Since when are you all shoot-first-ask-questions-later, anyway?”

“Since now.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, biting the inside of your lip. “Really?’ you muttered, getting down into the car.

***

Sam walked a little further up the walkway to the Collins house than you and Dean did.

“Forty-five minutes in that copy room for this?” you inspected Dean’s small, fake park ranger ID.

“Can’t rush art, sweetheart.”

“Now you’re just working it into every sentence because you know it aggravates me.”

"Yup,” Dean chuckled.

You smirked lopsidedly and Dean knocked on Haley Collins’s front door. A quite beautiful, dark-haired girl opened it moments later.

“You must be Haley Collins. I'm Dean, this is Sam, and (Y/N), we're, ah, we're rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. He wanted us to ask a few questions about your brother Tommy.”

Haley hesitated. “Lemme see some ID.”

Dean held up the ID you’d previously been inspecting to the screen door. The girl looked between the ID and Dean.

“Come on in.”

“Thanks.”

The door swung open, allowing Haley to catch a glimpse of the Impala. “That yours?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice car.” She began leading the three of you into the home.

Dean looked back at Sam, mouthing something excitedly to him that you couldn’t quite make out. You rolled your eyes. You decided then and there you would push your attraction to him to the side for the rest of the time you were working with the brothers. To you, he was just an asshole playboy.

Sam’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. “So if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?”

You took in the sight of the table set for dinner and a young boy who looked to be about thirteen already picking at his plate of food.

Haley entered the room with a bowl and placed it onto the table. “He checks in every day by cell. He emails, photos, stupid little videos—we haven't heard anything in over three days now.”

“Well, maybe he can't get cell reception,” you suggested.

“He's got a satellite phone, too.”

‘Well, there goes that theory.’

“Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?” Dean threw in.

The teenage boy clanked his fork against his plate, sharply stating, “He wouldn't do that.”

You eyed the boy, getting a read on him.

“Our parents are gone,” Haley said. “It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other.”

You nodded in understanding. As much as you were trying to dislike her, it wasn’t working all that well.

“Can I see the pictures he sent you?” Sam asked.

Haley pulled out her laptop to show Sam the folder of pictures and videos her brother had sent her. “That's Tommy.” You could hear the sadness in her voice.

She clicked through to the most recent video.

A scruffy, presumably twenty-five year old man appeared onscreen. “Hey Haley, day six, we're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow.”

Something flickered past outside the young man’s tent. Your brows furrowed.

“Well, we'll find your brother. We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing,” Dean assured her.

“Then maybe I'll see you there,” she answered. “Look, I can't sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy. I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself.”

“I think I know how you feel.”

Your eyes flicked over to Dean, growing angry at what you assumed to be an attempt at seducing the girl.

‘She’s mourning the potential loss of her brother, and you’re gonna try and charm her? Asshole.’

The younger Winchester once again broke you out of your thoughts. “Hey, do you mind forwarding these to me?”

“Sure.” Haley clicked away on her laptop again.

***

You and the boys wound up at a bar. The table was covered in newspapers, John’s journal, and beer bottles; some full and some half empty.

“So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic. Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found.”

You gestured to John’s journal, which Sam slid over to you. You began flipping through it.

“Any before that?” Dean asked.

Sam pulled out a newspaper to show his brother. “Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack.”

You leaned across the table, squinting at the headline. You felt Dean’s eyes flick to your breasts that had subsequently been pushed up in your wife beater as you leaned over.

You glared at him. “Stay focused, Winchester.”

Dean rolled his eyes, apparently unable to find his way to a witty response. You turned your attention back to the headline that read, “ GRIZZLY BEAR ATTACKS! UP TO EIGHT HIKERS VANISH IN LOST CREEK AREA.”

Sam pulled out his laptop. “Before that, 1959 and 1936. Every twenty-three years, just like clockwork.”

“You have WiFi in here?” you questioned.

“Don’t need it. Just wanted to look at Haley’s video.” He pulled it up from a folder on his screen.

“Oh, shit. I almost forgot. Can I see that?” You hopped off your stool to get between the two brothers. “Watch this.” You clicked through the three frames of the video containing the shadow you’d seen flash across the screen. “That's three frames. That's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move.”

Dean reached across you to hit Sam’s shoulder. “Told you something weird was going on.”

Sam rolled his eyes, closing his laptop. “Yeah. I got one more thing.” He put a newspaper article between you and Dean. “In 'fifty-nine one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive.”

You skimmed the article briefly. “Is there a name?”

The only survivor of the attack in the article Sam showed you and Dean was a child at the time. He now lived a life of what appeared to be solitude. He drove a beat up truck that was parked haphazardly in his driveway and lived several miles out of the city. You took in the poor old man’s messy house as he led your trio into his living room.

“Look, ranger, I don't know why you're asking me about this. It's public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a—”

Sam interrupted him. “Grizzly? That's what attacked them?”

Mr. Shaw lit a cigarette, took a deep puff, and nodded.

“The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks too?” Dean’s tone was slightly pointed. “What about all the people that went missing this year? Same thing?”

The old man continued to take drags of his cigarette. He seemed almost scared to entertain any other explanation aside from a grizzly bear attack.

Dean continued to pressure him. “If we knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it.”

Mr. Shaw shook his head. “I seriously doubt that. Anyways, I don't see what difference it would make.” He sat down in his recliner. “You wouldn't believe me. Nobody ever did.”

Sam sat down opposite the old man. “Mr. Shaw, what did you see?”

“Nothing. It moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar. Like... no man or animal I ever heard.”

“It came at night?”

He nodded.

“Got inside your tent?”

“It got inside our cabin. I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window or break the door. It unlocked it.”

You tried to keep your face from conveying your intrigue and tinge of fear.

“Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn't even wake up till I heard my parents screaming.” You could see Mr. Shaw becoming lost in his mind.

“It killed them?” Sam continued.

“Dragged them off into the night.” The old man shook his head as if to shake away the memories. “Why it left me alive... been asking myself that ever since.” He took a brief pause before reaching to the collar of his wife beater. “Did leave me this, though.” He pulled it down to reveal three long, deep claw mark scars. Through morbid curiosity, you were tempted to run your fingers over the jagged edges of the scarring. You couldn’t imagine how painful and angry the marks must have been when the poor man first got them.

“There's something evil in those woods. It was some sort of a demon.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Shaw. We’re sorry about your parents,” you told him, turning away. “Have a good night, sir.”

Mr. Shaw seemed too caught up in his own head to respond with more than a wave, letting a cloud of smoke slither out of his mouth.

*** Later that night, you and the boys had just booked a room in yet another crappy motel.

‘One of these days I’ll treat myself to a stay in a halfway decent hotel.’

Before the three of you would be turning in for the night, you were headed to Dean’s car to pack your bags for the early morning you were about to have.

“Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors.” Dean broke your train of thought. “If they want inside, they just go through the walls.”

“So it's probably something else, something corporeal,” Sam said.

“Corporeal? Look at you, smartass,” you laughed.

“Shut up. So what do you think?”

“The claws, the speed that it moves…” Dean trailed off. “Could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature, and it's corporeal. Which means we can kill it.”

“True,” you started. “But how are you gonna know what to bring to kill it with if we have no idea what it is?”

“Just trust me on this one,” Dean replied. “There’s not much a gun won’t be able to take care of.” He let the door to the motel almost completely swing shut behind him; nearly hitting you in the face.

You caught it just in time. “Right, right. Just like you ‘took care’ of Constance by shooting her.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Dean raised a brow at you, just barely turning over his shoulder to give you his response. He started busying himself in the weapons box in the back of his car.

“I mean, just barely. Nearly caught me in the crossfire.”

Dean rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically. “And what a shame that would’ve been.”

“Hey!” You shoved his shoulder with yours.

He glared at you in response.

Sam, who had been quiet the last few minutes, spoke up. “We cannot let that Haley girl go out there.”

His brother was rummaging through the weapons box; haphazardly throwing guns into his duffel bag. “Oh yeah? What are we gonna tell her? That she can't go into the woods because of a big scary monster?”

You found a shotgun that was slightly smaller than the rest, giving it a once over before moving to put it in a duffel bag of your own. Before you could fully get it settled in the bag, Dean took it from you.

You went to protest, but Sam cut you off by saying, “Yeah,” as if it was obvious.

Dean turned his attention away from you and your shotgun long enough for you to steal it back.

“Her brother's missing, Sam,” he tried to reason. “She's not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend.”

Dean seemed to notice you had taken the gun back and glared at you. He picked up his own duffel, and you closed the weapons cavity.

“Finding Dad’s not enough?” Sam countered while you closed the trunk. “Now we gotta babysit too?”

You and Dean gave Sam a look.

“What?” he snapped.

You shook your head.

“Nothing,” Dean replied. He threw the duffel bag at him and walked off.

***

You yawned and pulled yourself into a tighter ball on the backseat of Dean’s Impala. You hadn’t gotten much sleep last night for a reason you couldn’t quite place.

“Don’t get too comfortable, sweetheart, we’re here,” Dean told you.

“Fuck.” You grabbed yours and Dean’s duffel bags off the seat next to you and got out of the car to feel loose gravel grating against your boots.

A man who looked to be in his late fifties was up ahead of you next to a Jeep with Haley and the teenager you recognized as Haley’s younger brother. You approached the other three from behind Sam and Dean.

“You guys got room for three more?” the older brother asked.

Haley crossed her arms. “Wait, you want to come with us?”

“Who are these guys?” The older man pointed at your group.

“Apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue.”

Sam headed past everyone, and you followed.

You assumed the middle-aged man was the guide Haley had talked about hiring the previous day. He was very skeptical of the three of you. “You're rangers?”

Dean’s confidence never wavered. “That's right.”

“And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?” Haley was apparently skeptical, too.

“Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts.”

‘That’s what he calls me.’ You couldn’t quite understand the pang that went through your chest when he used that nickname for her. You pushed the thought aside once again, reminding yourself that you weren’t special in Dean’s eyes. To you, he was becoming more of a playboy asshole with each passing moment. You hoped your attraction to his beautiful green eyes and sharp jawline would soon turn to disdain.

Speaking of which, he appeared next to you as the guide spoke once more. “What, you think this is funny? It's dangerous back country out there. Her brother might be hurt.”

You turned around, trying to explain Dean’s attitude away. “He knows that. He just has a funny way of showing it.” You hoped Dean didn’t miss the bite in your tone. And from the way you could feel his glare burning a hole through your skull, you were sure it wasn’t lost on him.

The guide shook his head, brushing past you and the brothers. He headed into the forest, and you followed a few paces behind. You would never admit it, but the woods had always unsettled you just a bit. You tightened your grip on your bag and pushed forward.

Dean had apparently learned the guide’s name from Haley while you were lost in your own anxiety. “Roy, you said you did a little hunting.” He quickened his step to pass you and get up next to Roy.

“Yeah, more than a little.” The response came gruff and disinterested.

“Uh-huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?”

You could feel where this was going. ‘Don’t fucking provoke him, Winchester.’

“Mostly buck, sometimes bear.” The disinterest was ever present in Roy’s tone as he continued to scan the treeline in front of him.

Dean passed him up, doing that obnoxiously confident backwards walk again. “Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?”

Suddenly, Roy grabbed Dean’s jacket roughly. You nearly flinched.

“Whatcha doing, Roy?” Dean’s tone had hardened.

Roy grabbed a stick, and peering around Dean you could see the jaws of a bear trap close around it inches from Dean’s boot.

“You should watch where you're stepping. Ranger.”

‘Damn.’

Roy dropped the stick and took the lead once more.

Dean turned around to the rest of the group. “It's a bear trap.”

You scoffed.

You could hear Haley’s quickened step crunching leaves as she passed you to catch up to Dean. “You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffel bag. You're not rangers.” She grabbed his arm, spinning him to face her. “So who the hell are you?”

The teenage boy passed his sister and Dean. You and Sam hesitated behind Haley, shooting Dean a quizzical look. Dean jerked his head for the two of you to go on. You followed Sam forward, but hung back close enough that you could hear Dean and Haley’s conversation.

“Sam and I are brothers, and we're looking for our father. (Y/N) is—” you were interested in this explanation, “—a friend of ours.”

‘Oh, so we’re friends now.’

“He might be here, we don't know. I just figured that you and me, we're in the same boat.”

“Why didn't you just tell me that from the start?”

“I'm telling you now. 'sides, it's probably the most honest I've ever been with a woman. ...ever. So, we okay?”

‘Wonder how many times he’s used that line.’ You caught that same squeeze happening in your chest happening again. You desperately wished to get ahold of yourself and snap out of it. ‘He’s just pretty to look at. He’s a complete douche. Get it together, girl.’

You had missed Haley’s response to Dean’s “heartfelt” admission, but heard “And what do you mean I didn't pack provisions?” You heard the rustling of a plastic bag behind you, and remembered the bag of peanut M&Ms he had bought at a gas station before coming here. You heard Dean start walking again, and you hurried ahead to catch up with Sam and not look like you were snooping.

Dean had apparently noticed you were hanging back and chuckled to himself. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

He walked up beside you. “Jealous?”

“What?” you turned to him, feigning disgust. “Fuck no.”

“So… you were just snooping because…?”

You wanted to smack the smug grin off his face. His amusement at your aggravation riled you up even more. “I was just curious what she thought of us. And to be frank, I don’t exactly trust your ability to explain things away. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” You knew he didn’t believe you. “That’s all.”

You petulantly stole the bag of peanut M&Ms from him.

“Hey! (Y/N)!”

You marched on.

“This is it. Blackwater Ridge,” Roy announced after what felt like hours of walking. Your anxiety around getting lost in the forest was only deepening. That was what it all boiled down to. You had a fear of not being in control, and the idea of a place where every “landmark” looked the same, wildlife ruled the terrain, and being alone in it was pretty much a death sentence, scared you pretty severely. Not to mention, the time you almost bled to death in the middle of the woods had another hunter not found you.

You had no means of identifying where you’d come back from. All the trees seemed the same to you. You had no idea how you were going to get back to the car at the end of the day; if you were even going to make it out of here by the end of the day. You had been walking for so long that you were sure you’d be sleeping out here tonight. The thought of that frightened you even more.

What truly unsettled you was that the sounds you had been hearing up until you made it to Blackwater Ridge— crickets, leaves rustling, birds chirping— all of it had been silenced.

“I'm gonna go take a look around,” Roy announced.

The younger Winchester stopped him. “You shouldn't go off by yourself.”

Roy’s snark almost rivaled Dean’s. “That's sweet. Don't worry about me.” He waved his gun around and pushed between the two brothers to head deeper into the forest.

Dean turned to the rest of your group. “Alright, everybody stays together. Let's go.”

‘Great. More fucking woods.’ You marched forward, trying to put on a brave face.

Sam’s eyes softened when he caught sight of you. “You okay?”

Apparently, your “brave face” wasn’t as brave as you thought. “Yeah, why?”

“You look… kinda nervous.”

“Yeah, I am. I’m, uh, kinda scared of the forest, honestly.”

“Aw, sweetheart,” Dean’s mocking tone interrupted your vulnerable moment. “You’re scared of a little woods?” He jutted out his bottom lip, feigning a pout.

“Fuck off, Winchester. I’m fine.”

“Whoa, touchy. Relax.” Dean held his hands up in surrender. “Was just poking fun, that’s all.”

“Okay, well, it wasn’t funny. So, fuck off.” You rushed ahead, still white-knuckling the duffel bag on your shoulder.

Before Dean could catch up to you or respond, Roy called out from quite a bit ahead. “Haley! Over here!”

Haley took off in the direction of Roy’s voice, closely followed by you. Haley froze at the sight in front of her. “Oh, my God.”

In the clearing Roy had found, bloodied, torn open tents surrounded mutilated camping supplies and backpacks. Deep gashes in the tent material and the surrounding trees were jagged and stained with blood around the edges. The sight wasn’t making your queasiness any better.

“Looks like a grizzly.”

‘No, it doesn’t, Roy,’ you thought.

Haley’s backpack hit the ground next to you, and she tore through the campsite; screaming her brother’s name.

Sam moved to quiet her down. She kept screaming. A much harsher “Shh!” passed Sam’s lips, finally getting the girl to settle down.

“Why?” she questioned defensively.

“Something might still be out there,” he answered.

Dean called his brother’s name from the other end of the campsite. You followed Sam over to the sound of Dean’s voice.

You crouched down next to Sam. Dean snapped a stick and pointed to a set of drag marks on the ground. “The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here, the tracks just vanish. That's weird. I'll tell you what, that's no skinwalker or black dog.”

The three of you stood and returned to the campsite to find Haley crying on the ground over her brother’s broken and bloodied phone.

“Hey, he could still be alive,” Dean told her. She shot him a confused and slightly angry look.

Out of nowhere, a scratchy male voice started gutturally calling, “Help! Help!”

Roy was quick to run to the shouter’s aid. However, you weren’t so sure it was a real person screaming like that.

“Help! Somebody!” came again.

The brothers started off to follow Roy.

“Wait, guys!” you called, not wanting to be left alone despite your hesitation.

“C’mon, (Y/N)!” Sam called.

You dropped your duffel in your rush to follow Sam’s voice. When you found where the group had gathered, you could see the brothers searching the treeline. You licked your teeth, upset that your intuition was right. Your group had found no one.

“It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?” Haley said, confused.

“Everybody get back to camp,” you ordered.

You followed the path you were pretty sure would get you back to the mangled campsite. Thankfully, your sense of direction was right, but all of your supplies had been taken by the time you returned.

“Our packs!” Haley exclaimed.

Roy grumbled, “So much for my GPS and my satellite phone.”

“What the hell is going on?” Haley was catching on.

“It’s smart. It’s trying to isolate us so we can’t call for help. It knows we won’t last long without supplies,” you stated.

“You mean someone, some nutjob out there just stole all our gear.” The guide’s voice was hard and angry.

“I need to speak with you two. In private.” You pulled the brothers aside by their jackets. Dean shrugged your hand off him.

“Can I see your dad’s journal?” you asked. Yours had been taken along with your duffel bag.

“No, why?” Dean asked petulantly.

“Please, dude, c’mon.” You were not in the mood.

“Give it to her, Dean,” Sam chimed in.

Dean rolled his eyes and handed it over.

You flipped through until you found a page marked by a First Nations-style drawing of a tall figure with long claws labeled “Wendigo.” You looked up at the boys expectantly.

“Oh, come on, wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or, or northern Michigan. I've never even heard of one this far west,” Dean responded.

“Think about it, Dean, the claws, the way it can mimic a human voice,” you tried to reason.

“Great.” He took his pistol out of his belt. “Well, then this is useless.”

“I told you guns don’t work on everything,” you quipped.

“Shut up.”

Sam took the journal from you and handed it back to his brother. “We gotta get these people to safety.” He led you and Dean back to the group. “All right, listen up, it's time to go. Things have gotten...more complicated.”

Haley seemed pissed. “What?”

“Kid, don't worry.” Roy’s tone was almost patronizing. “Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it.”

“It's not me I'm worried about. If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now,” Sam countered.

“One, you're talking nonsense. Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders.” Roy was now getting in Sam’s face.

“C’mon, Roy, chill out,” you told him, pressing a hand to Sam’s chest to keep him from stepping to Roy.

Sam let you keep your hand there, but still bit back at Roy. “We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right? I'm trying to protect you.”

“You protect me? I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night.” The guide was so close you could smell the chewing tobacco on his breath.

Sam still refused to back down. “Yeah? It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you, and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here.”

Roy laughed mockingly. “You know you're crazy, right?”

“Yeah? You ever hunt a wen—”

Dean pushed you out the way and shoved his brother back. “Relax!”

Haley got between you, the boys, and Roy. “Stop. Stop it. Everybody just stop. Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him.”

You considered for a moment the implications of what may happen if you allowed them to stay.

Dean broke the silence. “It's getting late. This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves.”

“How?” Haley asked.

“I’m not gonna sugarcoat this,” you began. “We don’t really have the time for the ‘monsters under the bed are real’ talk. This thing is a Wendigo. I’m gonna start carving some symbols into the ground. No one crosses the circle once I’ve drawn it. Got it?”

Haley nodded at you. “What can I do?”

“Build a fire with— sorry, I never caught his name,” you gestured to the teenager next to her.

“Ben,” Haley told you.

“Ben. You two start gathering enough wood and tinder to keep a fire going. Don’t go too far, though, please.”

She and Ben nodded at you before setting off.

“Thank you,” you called after the Collins siblings. “Sam, Dean, help me with the Anasazi symbols.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said. You were surprised at his compliance.

After a while of scuttling across the forest floor drawing a circle of Anasazi symbols around the campsite, the sun had set. Haley and Ben had long since returned and were tending the fire. As you finished the last symbol, you brushed the dirt off your hands on your jeans.

Haley looked up at you from her place by the fire. “One more time, that's—”

“Anasazi symbols. It's for protection,” Dean explained. “The wendigo can't cross over them.”

Roy laughed, feeling the need to assert the fact he thought this was bullshit.

“Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy,” Dean told him, clearly fatigued of the man’s attitude.

Roy turned his attention back to the treeline with his gun over his shoulder. You followed Dean over to where Sam sat away from the group at the edge of the campsite.

“You wanna tell me what's going on in that freaky head of yours?” Dean asked his brother.

“Dean—” the younger one began to protest. You sat down next to him.

“No, you're not fine.” Of course, he already knew what Sam was going to say. “You're like a powder keg, man, it's not like you. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?”

You laughed. “Yeah, I’ve got enough of that attitude with just him, Sam.”

Dean nudged the tip of your boot with his harshly. You returned his glare petulantly.

“Dad's not here. I mean, that much we know for sure, right? He would have left us a message, a sign, right?” Sam’s mind was clearly going a mile a minute.

“Yeah, you're probably right. Tell you the truth, I don't think Dad's ever been to Lost Creek.”

You decided to just sit back and listen for a moment before throwing your two cents in.

“Then let's get these people back to town and let's hit the road. Go find Dad. I mean, why are we still even here?” Sam threw his hands up in frustration.

“This is why.” Dean held out his dad’s journal to his brother. “This book. This is Dad's single most valuable possession—everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.”

Sam shook his head. “That makes no sense. Why doesn't he just—call us? Why doesn't he—tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?”

“I dunno. But the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it.”

Sam’s eyes began to well with tears. “Dean, no. I gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jessica's killer. It's the only thing I can think about.”

“Okay, all right, Sam, we'll find them, I promise. Listen to me.” Sam looked up at Dean. “You've gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man.”

Sam looked away again, still fighting the tears congealing in his water line. “How do you two do it? How does Dad do it?”

You let Dean take that question. “Well for one, them.” He gestured to Haley and Ben. “I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable.”

You paused, looking down at the dirt and twigs below you before speaking. “It’s kind of the same for me. I don’t have a family anymore.” You felt Dean’s gaze on you, but kept the burning in your cheeks at bay. “This is really all I’ve ever known. I know I couldn’t go back to a normal life after all this. So, I do what I can to help everyone else’s lives feel a little more normal. Not everybody needs to know what’s really out there. It kinda brings me peace knowing I’m helping somebody else live their life relatively worry-free.”

Dean continued. “I'll tell you what else helps.”

You looked back up at him.

“Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can.”

You smiled at Dean genuinely for the first time.

A twig snapped, breaking you and the boys out of the little bonding moment you’d just had. The same, slightly unhuman grainy voice screamed out again from somewhere in the trees. “Help me! Please!”

Dean stands with his gun. You thought about pointing out the fact that it was useless, but decided to keep it to yourself.

“Help!” the strained sound came again.

Sam shined his flashlight through the tree line.

“He's trying to draw us out. Just stay cool, stay put,” Dean told the group.

“Inside the magic circle?” Roy quipped.

“Shut up, would you?” You snapped, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Help! Help me!” The voice seemed to become more distant before a low growl emanated from just outside the circle.

Roy pointed his gun at the sound. “Okay, that's no grizzly.”

��Oh, now you believe us,” you quipped.

“(Y/N),” Dean warned, still facing the outside of the circle.

Something rushed past where Haley and Ben were standing. She let out a scream.

“It's here,” the younger Winchester stated.

The guide shot at the rustling bushes, and then again. “I hit it!” He took off before you could protest.

“Roy, no!” you immediately ran after him.

You could hear Dean behind you addressing the Collinses, but barely registered it while trying to follow Roy.

“Roy! Come back!” you called.

“It's over here! It's in the tree!” the man called back.

Just as you reached him, something grabbed onto Roy’s shoulders and began pulling him up into the tree above.

“Roy!” you grabbed his ankles, doing your best to pull him back down to the ground.

Roy was screaming above you, and the Wendigo’s strength was too much for you. Roy’s screaming was cut off sharply by a snapping sound. In that moment, you knew he was gone. You let Roy’s legs go and dropped back down to the ground.

The Winchester brothers appeared at that second, rushing to your side.

“You okay?” Sam asked, helping you up. “Where’s Roy?”

You shook your head. “He’s gone.”

You and the boys headed back to camp to find Haley and Ben huddled together. Haley was caught off-guard by your return, and nearly took you out with her makeshift torch-weapon. “Shit!” she yelped. “You scared the crap out of me!”

“Sorry,” you laughed. “Easy, tiger.”

She threw her torch back into the fire. “Where’s Roy?”

Your smile faded. “I tried to help him. I’m sorry.”

She nodded somberly. A saddened, heavy air fell over your camp as the remaining five of you tried to go to sleep before your undoubtedly busy day tomorrow.

Haley and Ben settled down near the fire with tatters of backpacks and tent material as pillows and blankets respectively. You and Dean forced Sam to lay down and rest because it was evident via the bags under his eyes that he’d had none over the last several days.

“I’ll take first watch,” you told Dean, settling your back against the stump of a tree near where Sam had started falling asleep.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.”

“First of all, stop calling me that,” you snapped. “Second, it wasn’t a suggestion. I’m taking first watch. Go to sleep.”

“Why are you so insistent on this?” Dean furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“Why don’t you trust me?” you countered.

“I don’t know, maybe because you’re the last person to have seen my dad before he ‘mysteriously disappeared’?”

“You’re not seriously suggesting—” you scoffed, and Dean cut you off again.

“Maybe because I don’t even know you. Maybe because you so readily agreed to just hitch a ride with Sam and I the day Jessica died. Maybe those are some good reasons not to trust you.”

“Dean, I had nothing to do with your dad’s disappearance. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m on my own. Sorry that I was just excited to finally have someone willing to take me along with them. And I don’t give a shit about you, honestly. I do give a shit about Sam, though, and I’m not gonna leave while he’s in this headspace. And I wanna help you find your dad.”

“Why do you care so much?” he hissed in retaliation.

“Because I don’t have any family. I want to help reunite yours. Like you said earlier, it helps you feel a little better and sleep a little easier at night.” Your voice had softened considerably, and you turned your attention from Dean to your hands folded in your lap.

“Fine, but after we find my dad, you’re gone,” he responded after a moment.

“Fine.” You turned away from him, hugging your knees to your chest. “I’m still taking first watch.”

“Whatever, (Y/N).” You could hear Dean moving around behind you.

“Goodnight,” you said.

All you got was a huff in response.

At some point that night, Sam was actually the one to take over your watch. He’d woken up from a nightmare, and you knew he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep any time soon. You did your best to get some sleep despite your heightened sense of awareness from your unsettling surroundings and the anger you still felt at Dean after your argument.

When you did awaken, Sam was sitting against the tree next to you, Dean was talking to Haley about the origin of Wendigos, and Haley was grilling Dean about how he knows about monsters.

“Kind of runs in the family,” was all Dean answered her question with.

You felt Sam push off the tree behind you. You still hadn’t rolled over from your sleeping position.

“So we've got half a chance in the daylight,” Sam announced to the group. “And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch.”

“Well, hell, you know I'm in,” you heard Dean respond.

“'Wendigo' is a Cree Indian word. It means 'evil that devours',” Sam explained.

You began stretching while Dean continued educating Haley and Ben. “They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter.”

“How's a man turn into one of those things?” Haley asked.

“Well, it's always the same,” the older Winchester continued while you started to make your way over to them, brushing leaves out of your hair with your fingers. “During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp.”

“Like the Donner Party.” That was the first you’d ever heard Ben speak.

“Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities. Speed, strength, immortality,” Sam continued.

“If you eat enough of it, over years, you become this less than human thing. You're always hungry,” Dean finished.

“So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?” Haley waited for the answer with baited breath.

“You're not gonna like it.”

“Tell me.” Haley steeled herself.

“More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It—” Dean seemed to be searching for the right words, “—uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there.”

“And then how do we stop it?”

You spoke up for the first time, holding an empty beer bottle, a white cloth, and a can of lighter fluid you’d found from near the camp. “Guns are useless, so, Molotov cocktail, baby.”

You could swear Dean cracked a smile at you, but you refused to acknowledge it.

The sun had risen much higher since your crew had first started walking. You had passed multiple trees with bloodied claw marks on them. It was starting to unsettle you, quite honestly. You’d just passed the seventh or eighth claw-marked tree when you decided to bring Sam’s attention to your thought process.

“You know, I was thinking, those claw marks are so clear and distinct. Not at all as jagged as they were on Mr. Shaw’s scar or the tree where the thing snatched Roy. They were almost too easy to follow.”

Almost as if on cue, a low growl rumbled from above and trees rustled. Haley looked up before jerking herself out of the way. And good thing she had, because Roy’s corpse soon landed where she’d stood.

Dean inspected Roy’s corpse while Sam helped Haley up. “His neck's broke.”

The growling continued.

Upon hearing the sound, Dean started to bark out, “Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!”

You immediately split. You were always quite a fast runner and light on your feet. You and Haley took the lead of the group and could hear the boys’ thundering footsteps behind you.

Before you knew it, the growling had landed right in front of you. You and Haley were brought to a skidding halt before the creature. Haley yelped as the creature grabbed your legs and began dragging the two of you. You took the bag of peanut M&Ms you’d stolen from Dean out of your jacket’s inner pocket. You let the bag’s contents out slowly as sticks and rocks scraped up your dragging body. The last thing you felt was a sharp pain on the back of your head before you vision blacked out completely.

The next time you came to, the first thing you felt were your aching wrists and hands on either side of your face. You could faintly hear Dean calling your name, and your vision began to get less hazy as Dean’s voice became more clear.

When Dean’s annoyingly beautiful, worried face finally came into focus, you said the first thing that came to mind. “Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper.”

You could hear Sam laughing behind Dean and Dean sighed. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he sounded relieved.

Sam reached above you to cut your wrists down. “You okay?”

Despite your aching joints, you said, “Yeah.”

Sam helped you over to one of the cave’s walls. “You sure you're alright?”

“Yeah. Yep,” you groaned. “Where is he?”

“He's gone for now.”

“Oh, thank god,” you breathed, making Sam laugh a little. “Oh, sweet.” You noticed the stolen duffel bags next to you and started rummaging through yours. Haley let out a shriek, causing you to jerk your head in her direction. She’d found her brother, and thankfully, he was alive.

“Cut him down!” Haley ordered. Sam got to work.

You found a flare gun in Dean’s duffel bag, saying, “Check it out.” to the rest of your group.

“Flare guns. Those'll work,” Sam responded, grinning.

You laughed, throwing one of the guns at Dean who caught it easily. He twirled it around his finger, smirking at you.

“Enough fooling around, let’s go,” Haley urged. She shouldered her brother, and with Ben’s help, started moving down the mine shaft.

You and Sam held up the rear of the group while Dean took the lead. Amidst the clunky shuffling of Tommy’s weakened body down the shaft, you could hear the same deep, low growling you’d heard in the forest.

“Looks like someone's home for supper,” quipped Dean, scanning the corridor ahead of him.

“We'll never outrun it,” Haley said.

Dean looked back at you and Sam. “You thinking what I'm thinking?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Sam responded.

“I don’t,” you chimed in.

“You’ll catch on,” Dean shot back. “All right, listen to me. Stay with Sam and (Y/N). They’re gonna get you out of here.”

“What are you gonna do?” Haley asked the older Winchester.

He winked at her, shooting her that same smile he’d shot you one of the first times you’d met him. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. He started yelling moments later, walking away from you. “Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby, I taste good.”

‘I bet he does.’ You surprised yourself. ‘What? What the fuck? He’s an asshole.’

Sam’s voice brought you out of your head. “All right, come on! Hurry!”

Your group rushed down the tunnel. You stayed in the rear, and Sam headed up to the front. He began leading your group down to where you could faintly see a bit of daylight peeking through.

And then, the growling again.

“Fuck,” you muttered. “Get him outta here!” you instructed the Collinses.

“(Y/N), no,” Haley told you.

“Go!” you urged her.

She finally nodded and started pulling her brothers down the tunnel with her. You aimed your flare gun at the direction where the growling was coming from.

“C’mon, motherfucker,” you grumbled, scanning the tunnel.

“(Y/N)!” Sam called from behind you.

You wheeled around to come face to face with the Wendigo. In your startle, you missed your shot with the flare gun. Your only other option was to take off after the three Collins siblings, closely followed by Sam.

“Come on, hurry, hurry, hurry,” Sam ordered the group. “Get behind me.” Given Sam’s size, he was able to hide all three Collinses behind him. You knew your pistol was no use, but you still aimed it at the creature anyway.

The Wendigo approached, taking its time in getting to you.

“Hey!” you suddenly heard Dean from behind the Wendigo. It wheeled around, only for Dean to shoot it in the stomach.

Flames curled up the Wendigo’s horribly disfigured body in twisted tendrils. The creature let out a howl before collapsing to the ground in a pile of burning embers.

Dean was revealed behind where the Wendigo previously stood. “Not bad, huh?”

Despite yourself, you grinned.

A quite chipper, clearly freshman EMT had patched you up upon your return to civilization. You had an uncomfortable laceration on your neck, a few scrapes above your eyebrow, and your wrists burned from where you had been tied up. You’d survive, it would just take you a few days to recover from.

You watched from a short distance as Haley approached Dean, both of whom had been patched up. You scowled as Dean smirked lasciviously at Haley and couldn’t help the bile rising in your throat when Haley leaned in to kiss Dean’s cheek. She said one final thing to Dean before walking toward the ambulance carrying Tommy with Ben.

“Thanks, (Y/N)!” she called to you.

You waved at her with a lopsided smile. She returned your grin before hopping into the back of the ambulance.

Sam motioned for you to come back over to Dean’s car.

“Man, I hate camping,” said Dean as you approached.

“Me too,” you shivered.

“Still scared of the woods?” he asked you, his tone slightly patronizing.

You ignored his tone and answered earnestly. “Definitely. Probably more so, now.” You crossed your arms over your body and hugged yourself.

A moment of silence passed before Dean addressed his brother. “Sam, you know we're gonna find Dad, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” he nodded. “But in the meantime? I'm driving.”

Dean lolled his head to the side dramatically before tossing the keys to Sam. Recalling your fight with Dean at the campsite, you hesitated to get in the car when the brothers did.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” Sam asked out of the driver’s side window. “Let’s go.”

You nodded, conceding, and hopped into the backseat. You threw your legs up on the leather beside you and stared out the window. Out of the corner of your eye, you could swear Dean was staring at you.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #supernatural #dean winchester #supernatural series rewrite #spn #spn series rewrite

445 notes · View notes

sansaorgana · 9 months ago

Note

Hello love! I've just found your Buck fics and I love them!! Please can you write one where Buck comes home from the war but he has nightmares from being in the POW camp and he always manages to wake himself up before he wakes the reader up but one night you wake up first and then the reader wakes him up and tries to calm him down and reassure him that he's safe. Just Buck clinging onto his girl to remind himself that he's home? Thank you!

hi love! 🌺 thank you for this request! I love writing Buck fics no matter what but tbh I was growing a bit tired of the stories happening on the base etc. and I'm in love with some domestic Buck back at home! the next story I am going to write is about dad!Buck and I can't wait to write that one, too 😻 btw I mentioned Meatball here as usual because I love this dog and I miss him and I know Buck is technically not his owner but I love to imagine him adopting Meatball after the war lol

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

You were lucky – not only was your husband back home, but he was back home normal. Except for a few scars on his face and a few on his body, Buck seemed to be completely alright. It was almost alarming how normal he was.

He was the same man he had been before the war. Not that you had known him for long before – you had gotten married pretty fast, knowing that he could not come back from Europe. But to you he seemed to be the same man. He was soft for you, always trying to give you a smile, calm and stoic most of the time but also could make a good joke or tease a little. He seemed to act the same and you always wondered about it. You knew that he had to live through unimaginable horrors up in the air and when he was in the German camp. But he would never talk about it and you didn’t want to push him to talk.

You were a member of the local society for military wives and widows. You had meetings twice a week in the evening in a room given to you for that purpose by the local church. This community had helped you a lot mentally when Buck was in Europe, especially when he was in Germany. There were women with stories like yours… but worse. Some husbands were lucky enough to come back like your Buck – nearly scratched on the surface. But all those wives would eventually come back with some depressive story. One husband started to drink, the other started to be abusive, a few were constantly shell-shocked. Or traumatised as it was called now.

But not your Buck.

Sometimes you felt stupid for even speaking during those meetings. You felt as if you had no right to be there. Everything was fine with your Buck. He had never been a drinker and he was not now either. Even the war couldn’t change that. He didn’t start to gamble or sleep around either. There were many stories of infidelity. But once again, not from your Buck.

You even asked him about it one day. You just couldn’t believe – after listening to all these women’s stories – that he had been such a good and loyal husband to you. But he only looked at you as if you were crazy.

No, your Buck was not a cheater either.

“Recently I feel like these other women there don’t like me,” you told your friend when you were walking back home after one of the meetings in the evening. It was dark already but you lived in a safe neighbourhood and on the same street. You had become friends because both of you had husbands in Europe. But hers hadn’t come back.

“I’m not going to lie, (Y/N),” she sighed as you stood in front of her house. All the lights inside were off. Poor thing lived all alone now. “It’s difficult not to envy you.”

“It’s not like Buck had it easy!” You got defensive. “He went through hell!”

“I know,” she smiled sadly. “But he doesn’t show it.”

“I’m lucky, I know,” you took a deep breath in.

“Yes, you are. But I feel like all of them are lucky. Even the ones with drinking and cheating husbands. I wish mine was like that, too… At least he’d be back with me,” her eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, darling…” You leaned in to give her a hug and kissed her cheeks. “Go, make yourself a tea, watch something on TV and go to sleep. I have to go now, it’s late. I’ll visit you tomorrow for coffee,” you promised her and she nodded her head.

You waved at each other goodbye and you crossed the street to go back home, too.

Surprisingly, Buck wasn’t waiting for you on the porch. He would usually do that because he wanted to make sure you’d come back home safely from the meetings.

Not only was he not on the porch but also all the lights inside your house were off, too. And when you wanted to enter the house, you noticed the doors were locked. You sighed and reached for the key inside your purse.

When you entered the house, you were greeted with silence. You locked the door behind you and took a walk around all the rooms on the ground floor. Meatball was sleeping on the carpet in the living room and you scratched him behind his ear before going upstairs.

Buck was in bed already, asleep. You smiled to yourself as you approached him to fix his duvet and put a kiss on his forehead. He had been struggling with a headache for the whole afternoon so you just wanted to leave him in peace, glad that he was finally resting. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, just like a little boy.

Quietly, you went to the bathroom to prepare yourself to go to bed, too. It was still quite early but you didn’t want to wake him up with the sound of TV or a radio.

When you were in your nightgown already, you turned the light in the bathroom off and you joined Buck in bed. You weren’t very sleepy so you just laid on your side and watched his side profile. You smiled to yourself and caressed one of the scars on his cheek gently.

After a while, when you were starting to drift off to sleep, you got startled by Buck’s sudden movement. He tossed around as his face winced a little. You furrowed your brows and rested on your elbow. He moved once again and trembled as incoherent words were leaving his half-parted lips.

You realised he was having a nightmare and it was painful to watch. He no longer reminded you of a peaceful boy. He was scared. You had never seen your husband scared.

“Buck, baby,” you whispered softly as you grabbed his arm, trying to shake him out of his dream. “Buck, come back to me, hey…”

His eyes opened as he sat up rapidly, taking deep breaths and wiping the fresh sweat off of his face.

“Buck…” You asked quietly and he turned around like he was surprised to see you there.

“(Y/N)... You’re back already?” He furrowed his brows as his lower lip trembled.

“Yes. What’s going on?” You asked him and tried to move closer but he flinched. You remained still, feeling a little hurt at his rejection. “Buck, what’s going on? You had a nightmare?”

“Yes, it’s fine,” he lied.

“It happens sometimes. Why don’t you want me to touch you?” You asked, carefully.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he confessed and hid his face in the palm of his hands.

“What?” You shook your head awkwardly. “You couldn’t know, come on, Gale, we all get bad dreams sometimes…” You caressed his back. His white shirt was wet from the sweat. You sighed and moved closer. He didn’t flinch this time and you tugged on the fabric of his shirt. “Come on, baby, let me help you change. You need a new pair of pyjamas.”

“It’s not sometimes,” he mumbled and you stopped pulling his shirt.

“Hm?” You asked and gently moved his hands away from his face. Your heart sank in your chest at the sight of the tears in the corners of your husband’s eyes. You had seen him cry only on special occasions like your wedding day or when he was back home. He hadn’t even cried when he was leaving because he didn’t want to make it even sadder and more difficult for you.

“I said…” Buck’s voice trembled, “that it’s not sometimes. I have them all the time, those dreams,” he explained.

You went silent for a while and then you left the bed to turn the small light on and sit back on the edge of the bed, holding his hands.

“Why haven’t you told me?” You asked, worryingly.

“I didn’t want you to worry and…” Buck took a deep breath in as he looked down. “...I didn’t want to spoil your life. I wanted to be the same as I was before. I didn’t want to come back only to ruin everything, to be weaker. It would be a disappointment for you.”

“Buck, stop,” you cupped his face and made him look at you again. His cheeks were damp already and it was breaking your heart. “I can’t listen to this, stop,” you shook your head and leaned in to press your forehead to his. “Baby, you can’t hide such things from me. You’re in pain and I’m your wife. I’m here to help you with the burden.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You are not one, you will never be. But you are carrying it and I want to help you. Oh, Buck, baby…” You hugged him and caressed the back of his head.

After a while of hesitation, he clinged to you and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You started to shush him and caress his back as you rocked him softly in your arms.

“Now, get out of that wet shirt,” you moved away slightly and helped him to take off his pyjamas.

You took them to the bathroom to put them in the laundry bin and you got him a fresh pair out of the closet.

“Do you want something to drink?” You asked and he shook his head as he was putting on his new pair of pyjamas. You waited for him to finish and you turned the light off before joining him in bed again.

“Gale, baby, come here,” you opened your arms and he laid his head down on your chest. You hugged him tight and placed a kiss upon his forehead. “What are your nightmares about?” You dared to ask.

“I’m back in Germany and they’re shooting us like dogs and I just… I just want to go back home to you,” he whispered as his voice broke. You felt tears forming in your eyes. “It’s so cold and I’m hungry and I realise that I won’t see you again. And it’s killing me to know that… That you’re here and you won’t ever see me again, too. And how heartbroken you will be when they tell you I’m dead. Even facing death I’m more scared and worried about you,” he continued. After opening up finally, he wanted to let it all out and you were listening to it while caressing his back gently. “I remember that song playing while we were dancing at our wedding. I remember you in that white dress, I remember your smile. And I think that’s when they kill me.”

“Gale…” you couldn’t stand to listen to it anymore. You didn’t want to shut him up but it was painful for you, too. “You’re home with me, love. You’re home with me, everything is alright now. You’re safe,” you assured him and leaned in to kiss the top of his head. “I won’t let anyone… anything, harm you,” you added.

Usually it was him telling you such things.

“Next time you have a nightmare, wake me up, please, baby,” you pleaded and he nodded but you knew he wouldn’t do that. He was too proud for that. You sighed and squeezed him tighter in your arms. “I love you, Gale.”

But he didn’t answer. He was already back asleep, tugging on your nightgown like a little boy. However, you were glad to see him so peaceful again.

It turned out that no man came back the same.

Not even your Buck.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #lilysfiction #*buck #gale cleven x reader #austin butler x reader

325 notes · View notes

theminecraftbee · 1 year ago

Text

Doc wakes up slowly. He's had a lovely night of sleep, cozy in bed, dreaming of fantastical misuses of withers. Hotguy gave him an autograph and personally thanked him for finally blowing up Scarland's sound system and getting one over on anyone who might make a button. For some reason, Scar's alien from season six was also there, and then it exploded. That was pretty great too. And everyone had clapped for him, and told him he was the best, most important creeper in the world, and that all of his enemies were just haters, and that they would absolutely listen to all of his opinions, which were perfect, always. And they covered the Hermitcraft server in fresh, ripened tomatoes, and everyone helped him garden them.

It really was a lovely dream. He didn't particularly want to wake up, except perhaps to tell everyone about all of the aforementioned perfect opinions. But alas, even after a perfect, lovely, cozy night of sleep, mad doctors must wake up--

--and scream, as a menacing figure holding a knife looms over his bed. He throws a punch at whoever the person is before thinking and hisses, overestimating his strength and knocking them over. He scrambles for his light.

"Owww," says someone from the floor. Wait.

Doc peers over the edge of his bed. "Grian? What on earth are you doing, man?"

"Almost falling on my knife. You know, this is harder than I thought it would be," Grian says. He is holding his knife in one hand and cradling his now very crooked, bleeding nose with the other. Doc would feel bad, but... ehhh, it's Grian. Who had been standing over his bed with a knife. He probably deserved it for... something or other, Doc'll figure it out.

"You need help?" Doc asks.

"Right. No. Let's get back to this," Grian says, standing up and brandishing the knife again. The effect is much less frightening now that the lights are on, there's blood dripping down the front of Grian's sweater, and it's clear Grian is a bit uncertain of how to look intimidating. "I need you to know Mumbo only has one best friend."

Doc blinks.

"...okay, man?" Doc says.

"What?" Grian says.

"Yeah, like, I don't know what you're talking about. Mumbo and I sometimes talk about redstone, but--"

"You talk about redstone? How dare you! Mumbo is mine, you hear? Mine!"

Doc blinks again, slower. He considers pinching himself. This would be an odd addition to an otherwise lovely, perfect dream, but dreams can become weird nightmares pretty quickly, you know? That would explain why Grian's doing whatever this is.

"I mean, I don't know, he normally comes to me about it?" Doc says.

"Cheater..." Grian says.

"What?" Doc says.

"I can't believe you two! Guh! That was my offended noise!" Grian says.

"Look, uh, I don't really understand what you're doing here man--"

"I'm warning you off of Mumbo! I heard around the block you're his best friend now, so I'm going to kill you now unless you stop that."

Doc squints. "With the knife?" he asks.

"Yes, with the knife!"

"And why am I his best friend?" Doc asks.

"You got the crown! Mumbo said whoever got the purple crown would be his best friend! That's not allowed, only I'm allowed to be his best friend! So I'm, I'm being all threatening! And stuff! Please tell me I'm being threatening," Grian says. "It's been a while since I had to do something like this, I'm modeling off of a different guy I knew, but you know, it's very important to me that you're warned off properly! So there!"

Doc looks at Grian for a while.

"Yeah, uh, man, sure. I'm... really threatened," he says.

"Really?" Grian says.

"Yeah. Really. Very threatened. Hey, uh, my elevator buttons are Grian-proof, supposedly, but I don't know if--"

"Are you--are you trying to distract me by offering me buttons? I'll have you know that doesn't work anymore! Not when it comes to Mumbo!" Grian says. "Although. Hypothetically. If you were telling me there were buttons I could press that you think wouldn't have consequences no matter what I did. That sounds like a challenge."

"Yeah, man, I mean, uh. No. Don't press my buttons--"

"Gotta go bye," Grian says, very quickly, and he shoots out of Doc's bedroom. Doc stares after him through the door.

"I'm going back to fucking bed," Doc says, because frankly, this has convinced him he doesn't need to be awake. And also a security system. A security system that can roast pesky birds. He's sure he can come up with something. Mm. Roast bird. He falls back asleep, vaguely convinced he'd dreamed up the whole incident.

(In the morning, he finds a very grumpy Grian stuck in his elevator. Well. He supposes having to fix it is worth the expression on Grian's face there.)

#hermitcraft #docm77 #grian #a bee fic #okay look just saying grian is NOT gonna be normal about this one folks

607 notes · View notes

gallavichsreddie1128 · 8 months ago

Text

The Pact (Will Graham)

Description: Y/N and Will made a pact when they were 6 years old but Y/N doesn’t remember it.

Word Count: 2,582k

By definition: A pact is a formal agreement between individuals or parties.

Will Graham was an odd man to say the least. He lived alone and collected dogs, he had visions, he sleep walked and he was capable of murder. Capable of murder? Who am I kidding? The man has murdered someone but that's besides the point. Will Graham was an interesting human being. He wasn’t stable or okay in the head. He needed actual help but he wouldn’t ever admit that. Even when his best friend was screaming in his ear about it.

“Will that isn’t okay! You need to get help before you hurt yourself.” Or somebody. He rolled his eyes and scoffed. He didn’t need help nor did he have the time. There was a murderer on the loose. That was more important. “I don’t have time Y/N. And besides, it's not that big of a deal.” He said, she scoffed at him and it was her turn to roll her eyes. “Will, I found you on the road. What if you got hit by a car?” “I didn’t. Thanks to you.” He appreciated the hell out of her. She was there for him through everything and he couldn’t thank her enough. But she was overprotective of him or so he felt.

She was just being a good friend. He couldn’t tell her this but each time she saved his life, whether it be a small occurrence he fell more in love with her. She wasn’t aware that he was in love with her nor did she remember the pact they made when they were 6 on the playground. The pact that Will holds onto as the days go on. The pact that he made sure he never forgot. What was the pact? That if they weren’t married by their mid to late thirties they’d marry each other. She didn’t remember the pact, which frustrated him but she still made it and it was on paper. He kept the paper all these years waiting for the right moment to bring it to life. The man was crazy, well crazy for her. But she didn’t see it.

She just thought he needed help with his mind but little did she know there were other problems. “Then why don’t you stay for a few nights and help me if you think I'm that helpless.” He suggested to her. What he was asking her didn’t seem like a lot but to him it was only step one to his plan. She agreed and stayed that night. She offered to stay on the couch but he convinced her to take the bed. He was also in the bed with her but she didn’t mind. Besides one nightmare he had that woke them both up, he slept great.

He got up before her and watched her sleep. She looked so peaceful and pretty. She was always pretty but peaceful? With him in her life that wasn’t always the case. She worried for him and his health but he didn’t take it seriously. She blamed Jack Crawford for what he’s been through. She hated that man but would never tell Will. Will liked his job but it was dangerous. His hand caressed her sleeping face as he had a soft smile. Soon enough, he thought. Soon enough he’d get what he wanted and that was her.

Night after night she stayed with him and watched over him until she fell asleep. She knew that her company was helping and that he needed her there so she offered to move in with him and even split the bills. He held back the smirk that wanted to show. She was giving in to his plan without knowing. She made the next move without realizing it. He told her that he wasn’t sure it was a great idea but she insisted and told him that with her there he sleeps better. He put on the act of being hesitant about it and tried to tell her that his problems weren’t hers. “Will, I care about you so yes your problems are mine.” She was falling into his trap perfectly.

Once she was moved in she told him that she would take the guest bedroom. He wanted to tell her that they could share his room but didn’t wanna make anything obvious so he agreed. Him and Hannibal helped her move into the house. Hannibal didn’t have any idea about the pact, nobody besides Will did. It worked better that way. She even had a dog of her own that Winston and the others would have to get used to. Will loved it though and it felt like he was one step closer, which he was. Each night Y/N would end up in his bed by his side. Holding him in her arms so he would calm down. But by morning she was back in her bed, which he hated.

He felt ungrateful, He had her in his house, moved in and helped him but it wasn’t good enough. He walked into her room before getting ready for work, he walked to the chair by her coffee table and sat down in it. He stared at her as she slept, with a dark look in his eyes. He fought the urge to touch her beautiful skin or put her hair behind her ear. He would wake up early just to go into her room and watch her.

It was storming like crazy outside and the dogs were all in the room with them. Y/N slept in Will’s bed due to the storm. She thought it would trigger his nightmares, at least that’s what she told him. Truth was she was scared of thunder, and has been since she was a little girl. So being in bed with Will made her feel safe. She was wide awake staring at the ceiling as thunder could be heard. She couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was the stress from life or worrying about Will. Or the thunder, she couldn’t tell.

She heard Will whimpering in his sleep. She turned to look at him and he was in a pile of sweat and shaking. “Will.” She said, shaking the man. She repeated this until he sprung awake breathing hard. “Hey, it’s okay.” She said, rubbing his sweating back. He looked around to see that he was in his bed. He reached for her hand that was on his back and she let him take it. He placed his forehead on it and kissed her knuckles, he was glad she was there with him. “I’m here Will. I’m not going anywhere.” She said and sat up with him. “Thank you so much.” He whispered. She smiled and leaned into him. “It’s what i’m here for you.” She said.

He looked over at her and watched as her sleepy eyes shut and opened again like she was trying to stay awake. He shifted his body towards her causing her to look at him. He stared at her lips for a moment before leaning in and kissing her. She kissed back softly as his hand held her face. This was a perfect moment and he was so happy that she didn’t pull away or run off. They pulled away way too quickly for his liking. She gave him a small smile before getting out of the bed. “You need a shower. You stink.” She jokes and he laughs.

She watched him as he left the house for work. She had a small smile on her face thinking of the night. They kissed and it was perfect. She never realized that she had feelings for him until that kiss. It felt so right. They didn’t talk about it yet but it wasn’t awkward. She wasn’t sure where to start but she knew it would get brought up eventually. She decided while he was gone she would clean up the house because Will never does. The house wasn’t a mess but she felt like cleaning it up.

She walked into his bedroom and smiled as she saw the bed that wasn’t made. They kissed in that very bed just hours ago. After she made the bed she saw that his dresser had clothes sticking out of it and decided to fold his clothes for him. She pulled out the clothes of the first drawer and saw a piece of paper that was folded. The paper looked old and wore out. She stared at it and thought about opening it to see what it was but that would be an invasion of privacy. But what could it possible be? She let her thoughts get the best of her and she opened the paper.

I, Y/N Y/L/N, Vow to marry William Graham if we aren’t married by 35.

I, Will Graham, Vow to marry Y/N Y/L/N if we aren’t married by 35.

She smiled as she read it but what made her smile drop was the words below.

This is a pact that we made years ago and a pact is a pact. She will be mine. She can’t escape or run from me.

The writing was new compared to the first two sentences. She read over the words a million times before she looked around the room. They made this when they were 6. She completely forgot about it til now. How did Will remember this? And why did he add to it. She folded the piece of paper and put it in her pocket. She had to bring it up to him.

Will drove home feeling happier than ever. He didn’t have stress or worry. He was happy. He got to kiss the love of his life. What more could he ask for? Well besides her being his wife but maybe he wouldn’t have to force her after all.

He walked through the doors and greeted the dogs. Y/N waited for him in the kitchen. Her foot was tapping on the floor as her nerves were through the roof. He walked into the kitchen with a smile on his face. He saw her sitting at the table with a glass of wine making him smile even more. “Hey you okay?” He asked. She didn’t even look at him as she pulled out the paper. She set it on the table and pushed it towards him. “What is this?” She asked. He knew what it was but grabbed it and read it anyway. He laughed “This is a pact we made when we were 6. Where did you find this?” He asked her. She finally looked up at him. “Will, don’t play dumb with me. It was in your top drawer.” She said. “Ok so I kept it. I thought it was cute.” He said. She shook her head. “Will, it’s what is written at the bottom of the page.” She told him.

He never wanted her to find this. He was hoping she would never find it. “Is this why you have me staying here?” She asked him. “You offered to stay here and even live here.” He exclaimed. “I know Will but this feels planned.” She said. “What feels planned?” He asked. “Why did you write that at the bottom of the note?” She asked, ignoring his question. “I-” But he didn’t know what to say. He was struggling over his words. “We made a pact. We must follow through with it.” He said. “Will, We made that when we were 6.” She exclaimed. He shook his head. “A pact is a pact.” He said. She looked at him in disbelief. “Will I won’t marry you because of a pact we made when we were 6.” She said. “You will.” He said walking over to her.

She stood up but he backed her up against the wall. She was scared and nervous as he stared at her with dark eyes. “We belong together Y/N. We love each other and we made a pact that we would be married by now to each other.” He growled at the last part. “Will, please.” Her eyes stared into his dark ones and he cupped her face. “We even kissed last night.” He smiled. He leaned in to where his lips were almost against hers. “You belong to me.” He whispered. “You have since we were 6.” He kissed like he had last night. She didn’t kiss back. She was shocked by the note and everything else. Sure, she had feelings for Will but marrying him? Right now? With him acting like this, that wasn’t happening.

She pulled away from the kiss. “Will baby, I do love you but you need help. And I'll be there with you every step of the way.” She whispered and cupped his face. “I don’t need help, I need you.” He told her. “Will, I can’t marry you in the state of mind you’re in.” She said. “You can and you will.” He told her.

She knew that if she ran, he would find her. If she told anybody, he would kill them. Will Graham was a fucked up human being. She truly had no escape. He took her hand and made her follow him to the bedroom. She was confused as he pulled out a black velvet box. “Will, what is that?” She asked. “I got these the day after you moved in.” He said with a smile.

He opened the box to her, she gasped at the two wedding bands inside. “We can do it right here, right now.” He said. She was quiet as he took out the rings. He set them on top of the dresser and grabbed her hands. “Y/N, I’ve loved you since I was 6 years old. You’ve helped me with my nightmares, my thoughts and life itself. I don’t know what I would do without you. I don’t need help, I just need you.” He said as he slipped the ring on her finger. She had tears in her eyes at what he said and what was happening. He took his ring and gave it to her. She took it with shaky hands. “Will, I do love you a lot and you mean so much to me. But I really think we should wait on this. Let’s enjoy each other and worry about this later.” He shook his head. “What if we don’t get later? What if something happens? This needs to happen now.” He said.

She sighed and realized that no matter what she said he would come up with something. “I want a real wedding.” She said. “And we will have that baby. This is just for now.” She looked down at the ring she had on her finger and the one that he gave her to put on his finger. She really had no way out of this. But it wasn’t that bad either. Maybe as his wife she could get him some real help that wasn’t Hannibal Lecter. Maybe just maybe she can get him to leave his awful job.

She grabbed his hand and slid the ring on it. “Will, I love you so much and nothing will ever stop that or come between this. You’ve been by my side since I was 6 years old and I thank you for that. You’re a beautiful and kind soul that I will cherish from this day on.” She said. He smiled at what she said and they leaned in and kissed. As Husband and Wife.

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hugh dancy #mads mikkelsen #will graham #will graham x reader #will graham x you #will graham imagine

133 notes · View notes

slxtni · 7 days ago

Text

Imagine it's late at night. You're walking home from your best friends house. You're always a little paranoid, so only one earphone in. But you listen to nasty music like you do all the time.

It's calm until you notice the car behind you driving slower and right on your side the window rolls down. You can't see much, it's dark outside. There's a man inside the car, his mouth covered by a mask. You start to panic.

"hey pretty girl, wanna go for a ride?" You don't answer, you walk faster. Almost run at this point. But he catches up with you very quickly, unbothered. "You know you can't run from me." You try not to look at him and panickly start searching for your phone. Unfortunately, it's nowhere to be seen.

And just as you look up from your bag, the car has stopped and the man stands in front of you. You can't do or say anything, not even scream, as he grabs you and forces you into his car. The trunk is dark and tight and as trunk lid closes you gain your voice back. You start to scream and cry as the car starts to drive. But nobody can hear you. It's late at night and the neighbourhood is asleep. Nobody notices you.

You don't stop screaming, the whole time. Tears in your eyes. He took your bag away. Your phone isn't here and nobody can safe you. Well, to bad, you should've stayed at your friends house for the night.

As the car stops, your throat is dry and hurts from all the screaming. Your tears stopped, even as the man opens the lid and grabs you. He takes you with him in his house. You would've tried to run or fight, but there's no chance. You're way to weak.

"Everything is prepared for you" He says. And as you are forced to enter the house, you understand what he means. The basement is full of shelves with all the stuff you'd seen in the nasty porn you watched before. Dildos, lingery, chains. Your biggest nightmare. And he planned all of this for weeks.

The man holds you down on the table in the middle of the room. You're to shocked to do anything. And then, he starts his game. He pulls down your skirt and imiediently rubs on your clit. You try to scream, because it feels so - good.

You're scared as he puts his fingers inside your cunt. "You're already so wet for me little girl" he laughes. And you notice he's right. "Maybe i'll be gently with you for the first round". He groans. And then keeps fucking you with his cold fingers. In and out until you come on his fingers. It's almost embarassing, coming all over your kidnappers fingers in your tight pussy. But you can help it.

He makes you suck his dick. Puts it deep down your throat until you choke. But he doesn't care. He's so turned on and uses your face as his cumhole. He forces you to swallow the full load of his cum. Every single drop. "Good girl" he calls you.

Then he puts you on the table again, holding you down with his arm. Your cheek hurts as it is getting pushed on the table. You could cry, but you're so damn needy, aren't you? Your pussy is begging for the cock you just sucked. He pretends to be gentle and slow, going really slowly as he pushes the first inches into your dripping cunt. But then he thrusts into you. His full length and you can feel him so deep inside of you. It hurts so bad.

He is going faster and harder each time, groaning and moaning, calling you a good littel girl and his personal fuck toy. You can feel your insides clenching around him and you're so embarassed. What would anyone say if they saw you like that? So needy for the cum of your rapist inside your womb.

And as he moans louder and his thrusts get harder, you feel it. He empties his balls deep inside of you and you can't even think about the fact that you're not on birth control as you fall over the edge and come hard around his cock.

As you lay on the table, more than exhausted, he grins down on you. "I knew you would love me and my cock so deep inside of you. And this isn't the end. From now on, you're mine."

And he makes you his personal fuck toy, just like he told you, coming every day to fulfill his needs deep inside of you. Keeping you in his basement. And as time goes by, you don't even care anymore. You just think about getting fucked by your rapists cock all the time.

#1cky princess #bd/sm blog #breeding k1nk #cvm in me #r@pe kink #cvm wh0re #r@pe play #send r3pe threats #1cky daughter #abuse k1nk #r@petoy #rough cnc #r@pe b@it #corruption kink #cnc free use #free use slvt #r4ape kink #attention wh0r3

34 notes · View notes

ontheblock · 2 years ago

Note

loose ends was so good..ive been looking everywhere for well written krauser nsfw stuff. do you habe any re4 krauser?

jackie boy is such a gold mine for content, i wish more fans liked him. don‘t you worry tho, i got you, anon :))))

audience

warning: heavy dubcon, krauser being mean, voyeurism, humiliation, dirty talk

“Hng… Jack, don‘t-“

You writhed in his lap, legs forced wide open to accommodate for his wide frame. Your chest was pressed flush to his, face buried into the side of his neck so close that you felt his even pulse.

“Oh, but we‘re just getting started, baby.“

One large hand heavily rested on your hip, thumb rubbing circles into your skin that would sooth you if the circumstances were different. Maybe if those parasite riddled men weren‘t standing around you, breathing raggedy wet breaths.

Jack‘s other hand was crammed between your bodies, disappearing between your thighs to plunge two thick fingers into your pussy over and over. You couldn‘t keep still, torn between riding his hand to completion and jumping out his lap to escape those glowing eyes that were a recurring nightmare fuel.

“Jack… They can see…“ Your arms were tightly swung around his neck, holding onto him for dear life, pulling him impossibly closer to hide yourself away - maybe even fuse with him to escape the shame you felt. He clearly had none left.

Jack laughed, voice directly inside your ear. “You know I don‘t mind the audience. ‘S not like they can touch the goods.“ To drive his point home, Jack pushed in deep until you tried to lift yourself up and away from the stimulation. The hand on your hip held you down easily, leaving you defenseless and moaning while his fingers curled into your spongy sweet spot.

“Besides, you‘re so wet right now. Enjoying this more than me?“

You shook your head against the crook of his neck, whining in both distress and arousal. Shame and lust were so tightly interwoven in the pits of your stomach that you couldn‘t separate them anymore. You twitched around him and Jack grinned. If there was something you couldn‘t hide from him it was how your walls gripped his fingers right now.

“Fuck, you love this. These bastards would be all over you if they had even an ounce of free will left. You want that?“

Jack‘s voice, his words - they gave you whiplash, hips slowly grinding against his hand, legs shaking like leaves. “N-No!“

You peeled your face away from his neck, catching a glance of your surroundings. Five men stood just behind Jack, close enough to touch your face if they just extended an arm. Their eyes were so distant but clearly focused on you. There was noise behind you - boots and groans and heavy breathing. You locked eyes with the man standing closest in your field of view and you felt your heart hammer against your ribs.

“You‘re leaking all over me. If I wasn‘t right here, you‘d throw yourself at the biggest guy around, wouldn‘t you?“

You sobbed, vision growing blurry with tears but hips bucking down anyway. You were close, wildly constricting around those fingers fucking you at a steady pace. If your heart wasn‘t beating in your ears, you‘d be able to hear the lewd squelching of your dripping pussy with every thrust.

“You let them fuck you raw when I‘m not here? C‘mon, tell me.“

His thumb joined the assault, pressing against your clit. You jerked in his lap, moaning high and pretty while he rubbed slow circled into the bundle of nerves. “I told you to speak.“

His voice was level, commanding. You scrambled to brace your hands against his wide shoulders, trying to replay his words in your head and forming a coherent answer.

“Don‘t… I-I don‘t-“

Jack looked at you, expressionless with a mean glint in his eyes. “You better fucking not. Whose job is it? You know this one, baby.“

Your chest shook with a moan that bled into a wet sob, hips still moving to meet his movements. “It‘s yours…“

Jack grinned at that. “Atta girl. You‘re right, it‘s my job to fuck this hole. And you know what?“ His fingers stilled mid thrust and you could finally catch your breath. The pause wasn‘t long lived once Jack harshly ripped his fingers from your hole, turning your exhale into a winded whine.

“I think I‘ll do just that.“

“Wha-? But-“ You yelped, Jack suddenly standing up from the shitty folding chair, two hands securely on your thighs to pick you up with him. You clung to his shoulders, looking around yourself to discover that there were more brainwashed soldiers right behind you the whole time, mouths slightly ajar and eyes unblinking.

“What‘re you doing?“ Your words were fast, stumbling over themselves as Jack put you down in front of the chair. He quickly spun you around, back to his chest and you almost fell - your legs felt soft underneath you, wetness sliding down your thigh and growing cold with the air.

“Jack!“ A strong hand clamped down on the back of your neck, the other snaking around you and warmly laying on your stomach as he shoved you forward, bending you at the hip. Your hands flew out to catch yourself on the backrest of the chair.

“Stay.“ Jack all but barked the order at you. You shivered, head forced down with the bruising hold he had on your neck. His other hand disappeared and a zipper sounded loud in your ears.

Your eyes were wide, listening to Jack groan as he pulled his cock from the confines of his heavy cargo pants. He couldn‘t be serious. Jack never made you do something like this before, fully aware how terrifying these people - this parasite - and this whole mission was for you. You were shaking, palms slippery with sweat but you couldn‘t deny that there was slick dripping on the floor with the knowledge that Jack was about to mount you like a dog right now.

You gasped a soft breath as the warm head touched your hole, applying some pressure before rubbing through your folds. Your hips were squirming against him, unable to thrust back or pull away as long as Jack held your neck in place. His dick kept rubbing your pussy, tips just barely catching on the hole as you whimpered. “Jack…“

The teasing stopped as Jack chuckled. “Don‘t worry. I‘ll give you this dick.“

And Jack, being a man of his word, firmly held the base of his cock to line himself up, oozing tip finally slipping into your body. You sucked in a breath, the initial stretch was always a lot to take. You knew that Jack knew that. You also knew that he loved it.

His hips snapped forward, only stopping when his pelvis clapped harsly against your ass. You cried out, the brutality of it almost sending you face first into the chair if it wasn‘t for Jack pulling your right back.

His hand pulled away from your neck and you instinctively took a step forward, feeling him too deep in your guts.

“Don‘t run from this dick now. You‘ll take it and you‘ll love it.“

His hands grabbed onto your shoulders, pulling you back to keep your ass flush against him. You were whining, finally able to pick your head up and regretting it right away.

One of those things - barely a man anymore - stood right in front of you, staring down on your frame and making your whole body tense up. Jack groaned behind you, hips pulling back to snap right back against your ass.

“Fucking tight…“ His pace was relentless, fucking into you with fast, rough strokes that made you cry out. One hand reached back, pushing uselessly at his hip. “Slow- Ahh! Slower!“

Jack was grunting behind you with effort, totally left cold at your attempt to stop him, muttering filth under his breath about how good your pussy was, about how he should‘ve done this sooner.

You couldn‘t take your eyes off this monster in front of you, afraid that if you did he‘d touch you, kill you. Jack would never let him but you couldn‘t risk it, couldn‘t stop thinking about it.

Jack kept up his rough treatment, pulling you into his thrusts to go as deep as possible, kissing your cervix with every thrust.

A horrible mix of shame, fear and thrill brewed between your hips, making you burn from the inside out if you didn‘t cum right now.

It didn‘t take much. No fingers on your clit working you over the edge, not Jack‘s mouth and tongue stimulating your sensitive nipples. You were cumming just like that with a sharp cry on your lips, just from Jack‘s brutal thrusts and that feeling deep inside you that you didn‘t want to acknowledge.

Jack moaned low in his throat, hunching forward and faltering in his movements as you squeezed his cock into a vice grip. He rutted into you again, reaching his peak buried balls deep, cumming enough for it to spill out around his cock.

Jack breathed for a second before stepping back, pulling out and letting go of your shoulders. Without his hands on you, there was nothing holding you upright. Your legs gave out easily, knees hitting the floor in front of the chair. You felt his cum dribble out your hole thickly, running down your thigh and dripping on the floor. You were holding onto the chair, wheezy and breathless.

Jack was already decent again once he crouched down beside you, pinching your chin between his fingers and turning your head towards him.

“Wasn‘t that fun, baby?“

You could do nothing as he sloppily pressed his lips against yours. Maybe it was a little fun.

#resident evil #resident evil smut #resident evil imagines #resident evil 4 #jack krauser #jack krauser smut #jack krauser x reader #jack krauser x reader smut #jack krauser imagine #tw dubcon #just jack being a bully #ME NEXT

397 notes · View notes

kyruskumiho27 · 8 months ago

Text

Warnings: none (angst if you squint??)

Summary: confrontation

Pt 1 here

“Can I talk to you?”

You hadn’t expected him to want to talk. He was so distant with you, so standoffish.

You nod your head mutely, tilting your head.

Miguel ask you to follow him, guiding you to his office. You walk in silence, then wait as he paces. Finally he ask you to sit down.

“Is there something wrong?”

Miguel stares at you for a long while, his brows furrowed like he’s trying to think of something to say. You sit there fidgeting, going through all the possibilities of what you could’ve done wrong.

He finally sighs, pulling up a chair from nowhere and sitting across from you.

“Tell me about him.”

Those eyes, god those eyes.

“Tell me what he was like.”

They tell stories and secrets and dreams and nightmares.

They say so many things, but he speaks so few.

You cock your head in confusion, opening you mouth to voice it.

“Tell me what he was to you.”

You stare at him, your brows furrowing more before they raise in understanding. You open your mouth, then close it, then open it again.

He waits patiently, scooting closer to you.

His presence makes you feel faint. The way he looks at you makes you want to cry. You miss him so much, and you know nothing about him.

“We were supposed to get married two years ago.” You finally say.

“The accident happened two weeks before the wedding. He was so excited. I was so excited!”

You smile sadly.

“His parents and mine had planned everything! They told us to just enjoy each other. And god I loved him. Loved him so much…”

Tears beginning to well in your eyes. You wipe them away quickly, for some reason embarrassed to let this man in-front of you see you cry. But he looked at you so kindly, different from his normal look.

You missed him.

“What happened?”

“What happens to everyone of us I guess….”

You both stay quite. You sneak glances at him, watching as his eyes shift with emotions.

He looks so calm when he’s not stressed, or in a mood. His lips formed into a pout, is eye brows raised.

You blush as he turns to look at you.

“Is that why you avoid me? Because I remind you of him?”

You bite your lip.

“I can’t risk falling in love with you, its like a betrayal to him. Your so much like him, in every way.”

“It’ll hurt me to much. It’ll hurt you, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

Miguel stays quite, watching you with perceptive eyes. He clasps his hands together, sticking his lips out in thought.

You study him. He looks so goddamn pretty. Unrealistically pretty. Unfairly pretty. You huff.

“I wanna love you.” He says suddenly. He looks at you, waiting for a reaction. An answer. He looks so lost and hopeful it almost breaks your heart.

“You can’t-”

“I can. I do.”

You sighed. “Miguel-”

“Please? I wanna love you, and not just from afar.

And I want you to love me, like I know you do. Please mi amor.”

“Miguel…”

“Please love. I won’t hurt you, can’t hurt you lovely… please…”

“Miguel…”

“Y/N please…”

“Miguel.”

He stops at this, his breath halting.

“I know.”

His fist clench, but not in anger.

“Just give me time, all I need is time…” you whisper, looking downwards. He pauses, nods, then scoots closer to you. Sitting in silence. “I can do time.”

You both sit there for a few more moments, then part ways. He hugs you, surprisingly, then kisses the top of your forehead and leaves.

Just a little more time.

#writing #tumblr fyp #fyp #fyp2024 #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #love #miguel x you #miguel 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman

51 notes · View notes

jessicamarbles · 11 months ago

Text

Isabel

“Your name is Isabel.” The woman’s voice was like a warm blanket dropped over a bird cage. You turned to look at her, barely noticing where you were now. High up upon a shelf in some strangers cottage, peering at a woman as large as a giant. Thick curls of golden hair framed Her pointed, kindly features, but your eyes rested on Her lips, full and almost smiling.

You found you could not look away.

“You have always been Isabel.” She continued “I found you on the beach. You are mine now.” Her words had weight to them. They made truth where none had been before.

“You had a bad dream. You dreamed you were something big and rough and angry. You spent your days with other big, rough, angry things. But that’s not what you are. Not what you ever were. You’re small and delicate and pretty. See?” With a gentle touch she turned your face to the looking glass and, to your astonishment, it was true. You were small and delicate and pretty. But something else. Something not quite right. You moved slowly, like you were racing your reflection. Your face was still, oh so still, and almost too pretty, like a painting. Before you could look closer she twisted your head back into position with a nimbleness that made you tingle in some place that you no longer had. You stared again at the shimmering ruby of her lips, vast and smiling.

“You were always small and delicate and pretty. The big, rough thing you dreamed was unhappy. But Isabel is happy. Isabel is happy when it is with me.”

And for the rest of the day, Isabel felt just how it had been told to. Quiet, serene, blissful. It had no thought of need nor want for purpose. No reason to exist beyond what it was: pretty and delicate and Hers. Dolls are made to be loved.

When dark fell, She gathered a candle and vanished to some other room. You ached to go with Her, but no surfeit of need could move your wooden limbs. Outside of Her gaze you were frozen, an object, as all dolls are when their Owners do not need them.

Alone in the dark, the nightmare stalked your mind.

Cracked light broke a black sky. Shouting. The *sky* shouted, bellowed, and the rough, angry things yelled too, though their voices sounded small against the night.

“Reef the sails! Now!”

But it was too late.

Burst wood. A scream that seemed to start inside your mouth. Choking. Kicking. Scrambling. Floating in the dark.

Then It came. A shimmering ribbon rippling toward you through the inky black. Huge, inhuman, but with a face not wholly unlike a man’s. Beautiful, but cold, and far too pale. And its eyes. Its eyes were pure black, two demon pearls against a mask of pristine white. They brought a fear with them that no storm ever could.

You could have leapt for joy when She returned, if you could have moved at all. She took a scoop of hot porridge in a wooden bowl, stoked the fire, tidied, washed her face and said some kind of blessing to the day. Then she fed the black tom cat, combed her hair, wrote out a day list and drank a cup of something warm and brown. Only then did she turn to you and say

“Isabel is happy. Isabel doesn’t think. Are you happy?”

You cast your mind back to yesterday, that pristine bliss, then looked away. The truth felt like a sin.

“What is your name?” She asked instead.

A memory stirred in you. Some doom faced man, all buttons and brass had asked you that. Was he a dream as well? He’d needed your name for the paper promise you made to him and to the sea.

He needed your name.

Your name.

You leapt to your feet and tried to yell. To tell the world who you’d been. There is power in knowing who you are.

But no breath came from your painted lips and instead you danced a mute tantrum at Her that, at least, brought a smile to those big, red lips.

“Dolls don’t need words.” She said “Not besides the ones we give them.”

For a while She watched you stamp and gesticulate, enjoying the show you made of your frustration. Then, as if finally bored, She said

“Your name is Isabel. Your name is Isabel and you are mine.”

The tempest died in its heart and Isabel sat daintily on the shelf, brimming with a cool blue calm. It spent the day watching Her work. Snipping herbs, inking parchment, adding a pinch of this or a spoon of that to the bubbling iron pot. It sat silent, frozen, but ecstatic just knowing She was near.

When night returned the dream fell on you like heartbreak.

The creature wrapped its long, wriggling tail around you. You tried to hit it – you’d been strong back then, if little else – but your blows tumbled forcelessly through the black depths. You clawed at its incandescence with your nails, clipped short, uniform code, but you found no purchase against the shimmer of its scales.

When it was coiled around every inch of you, it began to squeeze. You fought as much as you could. Not much at all. Something in you broke and your lungs freed that final gasp of air.

You stared into its perfectly black eyes as the monster swallowed your dying breath.

You fell on morning, waking, like a drowning man on driftwood. Once more She came, and you wanted to reach out to Her. Again she made her morning first, before paying you any regard.

When at last She turned her head toward you, you leapt to your feet and held out your arms, then dropped them, limp, embarrassed, not knowing after all.

“Today you learn to speak, little doll. You may have one word. All yours, to say or swallow.”

You nodded, though no question had been asked.

She leaned in and Her breath against your body was like a summer wind. Then she spoke into your mouth, a single word:

“Isabel”

You knew at once it was your own.

She stood and sipped something hot from her morning mug then said, offhandedly

“Isabel is happy. Isabel is mine. Isabel sleeps in my bed at night.”

For a long time, the witch said nothing, seeming to ignore the longing on your face.

“What is your name?” she asked, looking down at you.

For the first time, you noticed Her eyes. Her perfectly black eyes.

Isabel answered with the only word it knew.

#empty spaces #emptyspaces #dollposting #fantasy writing #transgender #somber #melancholic #dollification #spooky

105 notes · View notes

ladykailitha · 1 year ago

Text

Royal Pain Part 20

Hello, darlings! I hope that cliffhanger didn't leave you hanging for too long.

As promised two villains get vanquished and Wayne is bestest. As always.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

***

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Eddie cursed over and over again. He just needed to take a quick piss. He was supposed to just be in and out, but nope.

Motherfucking Seth Davies cornered him in the stall.

“There you are, pretty boy,” Seth purred. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” He stroked Eddie’s cheek, but when Eddie flinched away, Seth grabbed his face roughly. “I told you, you are mine. No one else’s.”

Eddie pushed him, but he barely even budged. “Get out of here. You aren’t supposed to be here.”

Seth chuckled darkly. “You see that’s where you’re wrong, princess,” he sneered, pressing their bodies together. “You see this club is exactly five hundred feet from Nightmare Holes. I’ve been coming here for longer than that usurper has.”

Eddie felt a cold sense of dread shudder down his spine. Shit.

“Imagine my surprise when you showed up with the usurper and the little bird with all your little bandmates,” Seth continued. “I knew it was a sign that you were meant to be mine again.”

Eddie tried to push him again. “I’m not anyone’s. I’m not even seeing anyone right now.”

As much as it hurt to say that, it was true. Steve and he hadn’t even gone out on a date yet. Mostly they had hung out, usually with other people there or they were at his tattoo parlor working on the tattoo.

“And it’s going to stay that way, won’t it, peach?” Seth growled.

“Eddie?” Steve called out.

Eddie went to call out, but Seth put his hand over his mouth to silence him.

“Eddie?” Steve called again.

Eddie bit down on Seth’s hand causing him to scream, but he didn’t budge from Eddie’s mouth.

Steve’s eyes narrowed at the stall the cry had come from.

“Hey, just me and the boyfriend having a little fun,” Seth called out. “So if you could give us a minute.”

The door opened and closed and Eddie closed his eyes, tears falling. He couldn’t believe Steve had fallen for that.

Suddenly the door to stall banged down to the ground without its hinges and then was slammed aside. Seth was being pulled off of him and thrown into the basin of the sink.

“What the fuck?” Seth growled, abruptly face to face to the avenging fury of Steve Harrington.

“I told you at Hop’s,” Steve growled, “that you picked the wrong man to target.”

Seth scoffed. “I didn’t think some skinny ass prep could take me.”

Steve shook his head. “I meant Eddie. I would anything to protect him and you are so going to regret this.”

Seth took a swing at Steve, who side stepped it easily. Eddie got out of the stall and came to stand next to Steve.

“I don’t work out as much as I used to,” Steve said, with a raised eyebrow, “now that I’ve been running a tattoo shop full time, but I do enough to keep in shape.”

Steve loosened his shoulders and took a proper swing at Seth. He aimed straight for the guy’s nose. He smirked when he heard the crack.

“The fuck?” Seth screamed. “I think you broke my nose, you fucker!”

“I’m only going to tell you one more time,” Steve warned. “Either get the fuck out or get your ass kicked. Your choice.”

Seth spat out blood from his mouth. “If I can’t have him, no one can.” He pulled out a knife and lunged at Eddie.

Steve grabbed Seth’s extended wrist and twisted it hard. The knife dropped to the ground and Seth tripped over his own feet. He clutched his wrist, screaming as Steve kicked the knife behind him out of reach.

Seth got back to his feet, blood staining the white suit.

“Let it go, man,” Eddie pleaded. “Just walk away and move on with your life.”

“You think he’s going to be any better?” Seth sneered. “It’s all you’re good for slut. To spread your legs for the first pretty boy to bat his eyelashes at you. You deserve to be beaten into submission, because submission is all you’re good for.”

CRACK!

Suddenly Seth was on the floor cradling his jaw.

Steve looked over at Eddie appreciatively. “Wow, baby. That was a good hit.”

Eddie shook his hand. “Fuck, that’s going to sting like a bitch later.”

Seth stared up at Eddie as if he was seeing him for the first time.

Steve gently took his hand. “Let’s go to the bar and get them to call the police and get ice for both our hands.”

Eddie smiled up at Steve. “Sounds like a plan, sweetheart.”

Seth just continued to stare as if his whole world had been yanked out from under him.

“Actually,” Gareth said from the doorway. “I’ve been on with the police this whole time and I filmed it.”

Eddie and Steve turned slowly to see Gareth standing there, his phone in his hands and cheeky grin on his face.

Seth scrambled to stand up, but it was too late. There was knocking on the door with a gruff voice saying it was the police and to open up.

All three of them gave their statements while Seth tried to lie through his teeth that Eddie had sought him out and cornered him in the bathroom. Gareth just calmly showed the officer the video and one glare from the officer shut Seth up for good.

Gareth then pointed to the knife in the corner of the room. “And you can keep the cell phone, boys. I’m due for an upgrade anyway.”

It took barely a half hour and then they were back out with their friends with a story to tell. And ice for both Steve and Eddie’s hands, of course.

Wayne stayed another week to make sure that the DA didn’t do something stupid again. Thankfully, an election had happened since then and a new DA was in there. One that wasn’t so soft on domestic abuse, assault, and attempted murder then the last one was.

And with the video there was no doubt Seth was guilty of all of the above. Plus the judge ruled that the earlier case could be used in court as a pattern of behavior. When Seth’s lawyer got the word about that and that the video wouldn’t be thrown out, he caved.

Seth was forced to plead guilty to all charges and would go away for ten years without the possibility of parole. When faced with the alternative of going to jail for at least twenty years on the attempted murder charge alone, he took the deal.

This is time Eddie was informed of the deal and agreed as long as the cops actually enforced the protection order this time.

As Wayne was getting ready to go back to Hawkins, he stopped by Royal Pain to say goodbye to Steve.

“Steve! Your future uncle-in-law is here!!!” Robin called out.

Steve came running out of the back where he was watching Argyle and Chrissy tattoo the same picture to see who could copy the style the easiest.

“Robin!” he hissed at her as came up to Wayne. “Sorry about her. She’s been calling for wedding bells since day one.”

Wayne chuckled. “That’s alright. But have you got a few minutes. I’d like to take you out to lunch.”

Steve turned to Robin. “When is my next appointment?”

She pulled up the schedule on the computer. “You have a little over an hour.”

He turned back to Wayne. “Is there some place you had in mind or are you up for suggestions?”

Wayne grinned. “Whacha got?”

Steve laughed. “Oh so many...”

“I wanted to thank you for taking care of my boy,” Wayne said once they had ordered at a good sandwich place and were waiting for their food.

Steve blushed. “I’m just grateful I got to him before Seth did any real damage.”

Wayne scoffed. “I think he did plenty.”

Steve nodded, grabbing a hold of this water glass and rubbing the condensation off with his thumb. “Without a doubt, but he threatened to kill Eddie and who knows what his full plan was.” He fought off the shiver that went down his spine at the thought. “I think Eddie will recover from this, not so much if Seth had actually done something.”

Wayne nodded. “I get what you’re saying now. You’re right. So count me as even more grateful than before.”

He rubbed the scruff on hsi chin thoughtfully. “Why didn’t you try and break down the stall door?”

Steve’s head jerked up in surprised. “The hinges were on the outside because it opened toward the sinks instead of inward. Trying to bust it down would have only made things worse.”

Wayne huffed out a laugh. “So you just what? Removed the screws?”

Steve blushed, ducking his head. “Something like that, yeah.”

“I know you two are going slow,” he said, “and I appreciate you letting him go his own speed, but boy, you’ve got to kiss him!”

Steve sputtered. “What now?”

“Look,” Wayne said, leaning forward on the table, “I love my nephew with all my heart, but that boy has a tendency to get lost in his head. And don’t think I didn’t notice you wearing that necklace.”

Steve rubbed the pick around his neck fondly. “I know what it means, him giving this to me. He told me. Not right away, but I know that he gave it to me because he feels the same way about me that I do about him.”

“You in love with Eddie, son?” Wayne asked gently.

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah. I really do. But I’m okay going this speed because he’s not the only with hang ups. I had a really bad relationship a few years back that is still effecting everything I do when it comes to relationships. I had a bad tattooing experience where someone tried to sue me and that left me in pieces, too.”

Wayne nodded back. “All right, I can’t say I understand, but you seem to have a good head on your shoulders and I’ve said my piece.” He held up his hands in surrender.

They chatted amicably about their favorite sports teams and Eddie as they ate their lunch.

Wayne paid and they walked out on to the pavement. Wayne called Eddie to pick him up and they continued to chat while they waited.

“Oh come...” Steve said, “you can’t believe they have the team to win it this yea–”

He was spun around and was face to face with the last person on earth he ever expected to see. And really at this point after his dad in his shop, Nancy at the grocery store, and Seth at Hop’s, he really, really should learn by now that the world loves to torment him.

“You absolute fucker!” the man snarled. “How dare you just walk around town like you didn’t ruin my life!”

Wayne immediately got between them. “There is no reason to go around harassing people on the street regardless of what they’ve done.”

The man looked Wayne up and down and scoffed, ignoring him. “I can’t get it covered! I can’t even get it removed because it covers too much of my back! You did this to me, you asshole!”

The man raised his fist to hit Steve, but someone tapped his shoulder. He turned around only to be punched in the nose.

“The fuck!” he screamed.

Steve cocked his head to the side. “Hey-ya, Eds!” he greeted warmly.

Wayne huffed out a laugh. “You always did have perfect timing, boy.”

“Everyone meet Quinn Colburn,” Steve said dryly. “the asshole who kept trying to sue me over a tattoo I did for him. The one the courts kept denying over and over again.”

Eddie grinned. “Ooh...can I hit him again, then?”

Wayne and Steve laughed as Quinn stood there holding his nose.

Quinn spotted Eddie’s tattoos. “I hope you don’t go to this asshole for your tattoos, he’ll fuck up your life.”

Eddie laughed. “Too late, man. I love them!” He pulled off his shirt right there on the street. He tapped his chest. “This was the first one he did for me and I fell in love with his style.”

Quinn’s eyes bulged out his head. “But that’s a small one! He does shit at large tattoos. I even heard that he won’t do them anymore. I wish he had decided to do that before he fucked up mine!”

Eddie turned around slowly. The sword was done, complete with the words scratched out, and most of the right wing was done. “He’s not done yet, but god, I wouldn’t let anyone else touch me after this. He’s my only tattoo artist from now on.”

But that one served to make Quinn angrier. “So what? You can do your friends’ tattoos just fine, but when it comes to strangers, you can’t be assed to do it right?”

“Show them,” Steve bit out. “Go ahead. You think it’s shit, but I never did. Go ahead, show them!”

Quinn turned around and showed Eddie and Wayne his tattoo.

“Wow, babe,” Eddie marveled. “It’s a bit anime, but holy shit that’s wicked cool.”

“You drew that, Stevie?” Wayne asked.

Steve nodded.

“You are very talented man,” Wayne said, with a smile.

Quinn whirled around to face them. “You’re all morons if you think that was good.”

Eddie and Wayne looked at each and shrugged.

“You had your chance to stop him at anytime and didn’t,” Eddie pointed out. “That’s no one’s fault but yours. You can either continue to be bitter or you can move on with your life knowing you have a kick ass tattoo from a kick ass artist. Up to you, man.”

Quinn threw his arms up in the air and stalked off.

Steve turned to Eddie with absolute heart-eyes. “I know it’s not even the same realm as what happened last week, but that’s the second time you’ve come to my rescue. Thank you.”

Eddie blushed. “I couldn’t stand there and let that man continue to harass you.”

“God I love you,” Steve breathed. His eyes went wide when he realized what he’d said.

Eddie grinned. “Right back atcha, big boy.”

Steve blushed a deep red. Eddie grabbed his cheeks and pulled him in for a searing kiss.

He wasn’t sure how long they kissed, but Wayne had to clear his throat a few times to get their attention.

“As happy as I am for you both,” he said with a fond, lop-sided smile, “it is summer out here, and I would really, really like to get out of the heat before I become Kentucky Fried Wayne, please.”

Steve laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the shop?” he whispered into Eddie’s space.

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, baby. I’ll be there.”

Steve watched as Eddie and Wayne walked to Eddie’s van, a goofy grin on his face.

***

Steve mimed for Gareth to go for help when he opened and closed the door to the bathroom and didn't realize that Gareth had called the police and started filming.

Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tattoo artist steve

169 notes · View notes

hymemena · 1 month ago

Text

Schoolyard Heroes Fantastic Wounds Lyric Starters

Feel free to change pronouns as necessary, and remember to specify muse for multimuse blogs.

CW: Witchcraft, religious themes, scarification, insect mention, amputation, surgery mention, medical, death, corpses, body horror, fire, burns, blood, obsessioin, possession, suggestive, wounds, injury, cannibalism implied, murder, poison, disease, illness, infections, vampirism

—

Body Shots

"You'd best adhere to the words of the oracle."

"Phineas sinned but he didn't sin every day."

"Now you rise?"

"Rise, rise, rise!"

"Now we're doomed!"

Panic In The Year Zero

"Kiss me."

"Curse me!"

"Carve your name with blunt precision."

"Greet me with this violence!"

"Taste my pores like an insect feeding!"

"Understand, there is no time."

"Understand, I could not care less."

"Reattach these severed limbs! Fasten velcro to loose appendages!"

"Die young."

"Leave a pretty corpse for me?"

"I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you."

Serial Killers Know How To Party

"Serial killers know how to party!"

"Leave your name and number sewn into my skin."

"It feels so strange…"

"Come with me?"

"I'll burn your heart in effigy!"

"Your blood runs cold."

"Your screams could raise the dead! But no one listens."

"That proves you're mine."

"Everything will fall apart, just like we planned it."

"We thrive in altitudes of Hell and places I can't speak of."

Centaur: Half-Man Half-Motorcycle

"Tonight, my dear, we need a sacrifice."

"Your lips won't satisfy my appetite."

"This girl has fallen ripe with pestilence."

"My stomach aches from taste of consequence."

"Undress these wounds! It's show and tell!"

"It seems so absurd."

"You can mark these words."

"I'll destroy them all!"

"If you could live one thousand lives, I'd watch you die one thousand times!"

"Soon you'll be consumed."

They Live

"We live like creatures, we love like homicide."

"We'll write your future!"

"We control reality?!"

"Deep within these shadows, we're alive."

"Look at all these imbeciles!"

"Come with me, you pretty thing!"

"Your secret's safe with me."

"I'll take it to the grave."

"God help you."

"Remorse is useless, now."

Battlestar Anorexia

"This disease will make your heart explode!"

"They took our blood."

"Your kiss shall poison me."

"Darling, won't you please?"

"This disease will make your blood turn gray."

"This is a jet-black field trip to the end of days."

"Maybe some things never change."

"You'll see."

"Revlon smiles steal your spotlight."

"You'll be saved if you repeat my name."

Nightmare At 20,000 Feet

"Strike the spark that melts our features."

"Salt the earth, I'll salt your wounds."

"You softly whispered in my nightmares."

"Hateful words fall on infected ears."

"Baby, baby, this ain't no dream."

"Listen, honey."

"I'll lick my wounds when someone tells me where I'm bleeding."

"Rescue me from this doom!"

"This burning mess is crashing to the ground!"

"No, we'll shake hands with our tongues."

Funeral Parlour Tricks

"Who will save you from his darkness?"

"Diamonds are a girl's best friend."

"How could you refuse this offer?"

"This is where the story ends."

"Taste my blood and live forever."

"Feel this cold touch one more time."

"Amputations last forever."

"Your face looks oh-so lovely tonight."

"A dark farewell."

"The story unfolds before my eyes."

Nothing Cleanses Quite Like Fire

"This is the worst of wounds."

"This is a call to arms!"

"Knives have started sharpening themselves!"

"I've told you this before!"

"You are mine again."

"This is my taped confession."

"Remind me of nothing."

"Dare you speak my name?"

"Your medicine is useless."

"Nothing cleanses quite like fire."

"Don't scream, your worthless calls will draw attention to me."

"Look at me!"

"Lie to me."

"Honestly? We're enemies."

The Girl Who Was Born Without A Face

"Their skin is melted to the floor."

"Oh, the horror!"

"I'm convinced you'd be so gorgeous if your face existed."

"Your eyes will turn to black."

"The tears you weep will cut like broken glass."

"Trade in your body for a model with these modern features?"

"I'd hold your hand if you had fingers."

"We're horrible creatures."

"There is no point in trying."

"We are so sick of dying."

15 notes · View notes

bullet-prooflove · 5 months ago

Note

Can I have Dwight Hendrickson x Fem reader with the prompt "Sweetest of the sunflowers, yeah, you're the sun to me"?

Tagging@ @kmc1989 @Atrxdixs @princesschyanne @words-and-seeds @cookiedoughmeagain

Companion piece to On The Rocks

Dwight has always had nightmares. They used to be of Afghanistan, of Lizzie but more recently they’ve been about you. Or more specifically about you and Wade Crocker.

In his dreams he watches the two of you on the veranda of the Grey Gull. It starts with a kiss, Wade’s mouth on yours, his arm wrapping around your waist drawing you closer and then the knife comes out. The moonlight catches the glint of the blade before the other man drives it into your chest and in that moment Dwight can’t breathe because it’s as if Wade Crocker’s plunged the knife into his own chest and carved his heart right out of his rib cage.

On those nights he wakes up, he gathers you close, burying his face into your hair as he listens to the sound of your breathing. The sensation of being surrounded by you, it soothes him, lulling him back to sleep.

“You’re having nightmares again aren’t you?” You say later that evening when he steps out of the shower.

You’re sitting on the bed dressed in jeans and that pretty top with the sunflowers on. Dwight wishes that this was like any other night, that he could just drop the towel and climb into bed with you but he can’t because he has a meeting with the Guard in an hour over Jordan’s disappearance.

“Yes.” He says as he sits down alongside of you. “Ever since Wade Crocker came back into town.”

He doesn’t mention they started after you’d told him the two of you had slept together a few years ago, that he’s noticed that the interest Wade takes in you is practically predatory. He doesn’t want you to think he’s jealous or possessive but Christ the feeling he gets when that man looks at you…

It makes him want to commit a murder.

“How can I help?” You ask him and in that moment he almost does it, he almost tells you to stay away from that prick but the truth is, Dwight, he’s just not that type of guy.

“You already are.” He says finally, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek. “You don’t realise how much sunshine you’ve brought into my life, before you everything was grey and now my world, it’s so bright and full of colour.”

His forehead comes to rest upon yours, your lips so tantalisingly close.

“I don’t want to lose that.” He whispers. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Is that what you dream about?” You ask him, your fingertips chasing over the stubble that lines his jaw. “Losing me to Wade?”

“Let’s not talk about that.” Dwight says, his voice tight and it feels like he’s slapped you across the face because Dwight, he doesn’t shut you out. He’s always open with you, that’s why this works.

You pull away from him then and he sees the hurt cross your features as you raise to your feet and begin to shove things into your overnight bag.

“I’m gonna stay at mine tonight.” You say, your voice glacial as you sling it over your shoulder. “I’ve got some shit I need to catch up on.”

“Alex…” He says as he gets up to follow you but you’re already hurtling out of the bedroom door, slamming the damn thing shut behind you.

Love Dwight? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#dwight hendrickson #dwight hendrickson x reader #haven #haven syfy

31 notes · View notes

alovesongtheywrote · 11 months ago

Text

Nightmare Academia P.19 | Spencer Reid x Reader

♥ Summary: In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, somebody dies, somebody leaves, and somebody ends up alone. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: criminal minds season 10, episode 13. Nelson's Sparrow.

♥ A/N: i remembered which episode this was off hand, im oddly proud lmao

♥ Word Count: 1847

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

Spencer didn’t think he would have to call in that favour you’d offered him. He was pretty sure that when you sent a little text that said, “I owe you one,” you were joking. He waved it off like you were joking. When he told you not to mention the favour he had done, he’d meant it. The two of you had spent the rest of the night joking because that was all it was supposed to be.

The favour, the owing, it was all supposed to be a joke.

Then Gideon died.

Nothing really seemed funny after that.

Spencer had to leave for a bit. He needed to go, and join his team, and solve this murder. He also had classes to teach. He hoped you would help him out with that, though he hated having to ask. You didn’t deserve this burden. You hadn’t deserved it before, either, but you kind of took it on without asking.

Now, Spencer had to ask.

He didn’t want to do it. Like, he really didn’t want to do it. He ended up staring at your contact in his phone for a solid forty-five minutes waffling over what the fuck he could say in this situation.

“My old friend and mentor was murdered last night. I need to go find the man that did it. Cover my cases for me while I’m gone, will you?” Felt rude. And harsh. And like a crazy fucking load of information that you would definitely have questions about- and while he would normally love to answer your questions, Spencer- understandably- did not feel like answering questions about this specific topic.

A simple, “We need to talk,” was way too goddamn ominous.

“I need a favour,” could be taken all kinds of wrong ways.

Something like, “Heyyyyy, so, my old mentor died and I need to go find the man that did it. Would you mind covering my classes for me until I come back, even if that takes actual months? K thank u byeeeee,” just felt wrong.

“A close friend of mine just passed, and I need some time. Can you cover my classes for me while I’m gone?” Was appropriate, but it left out so much- and for some reason, Spencer didn’t like the thought of lying to you.

So, he decided to tell you in person.

And he had regrets about that decision almost immediately.

He ended up standing by the office door like a fucking creeper for a solid five minutes. He didn’t move, he didn’t open the door, he didn’t knock, he didn’t say anything, he just sort of stood there thinking about what the fuck he was going to say to you.

And then the door creaked open for him.

You were sitting at the desk that you shared with him, buried so deeply in your work that you didn’t even hear the door open. You didn’t look up. You didn’t see Spencer. You just typed away at the computer in front of you, marking papers and adding up grades.

You seemed oddly peaceful. At ease. Relaxed- at least as relaxed as you could be while grading. Spencer briefly contemplated the idea of leaving you a note.

Before he could take off to find a pen and follow in his mentor’s footsteps, you finally saw him. Your eyes lit up, they really did, but Spencer told himself he was seeing things.

“Good morning, Dr. Pretty Boy!” you stretched yourself out slightly, giving Spencer the impression that you’d been working for a while, “Ready for more bullshit?”

For a moment, despite everything, Spencer managed to find respite from his grief. A smile crossed his features. He laughed at your joke- and immediately, he felt guilty for it. His eyes went from bright to broken in a split instant. Tears welled up in their corners. What fucking friend was Spencer? Gideon hadn’t been dead for two days, and here he was, laughing with his cute coworker over some cute fucking quip.

The grief crashed over his body in waves. Reid tried to hide it. He looked away from you, covering his mouth with his hand and trying not to actually sob in the middle of your shared office.

You saw right through him.

“Oh, pretty boy,” your voice was a whisper, and as you darted into Spencer’s field of view, he could see the concern etched into your face. Somehow, it made him feel worse.

“Hey, hey,” you tried to hide your own panic with soothing words, briefly wondering what the fuck you could’ve done to make him cry. Your mind came up blank. And really, if Spencer cried easily- if he cried the way you did- you were sure you would’ve broken him by now, but you hadn’t.

Honestly? That was probably the worst option. That meant something was wrong- and you probably wouldn’t fix that something with an apology and a cup of coffee.

Still. You had to do your best.

“Reid? Spencer, honey, talk to me,” you reached out, lightly placing your fingers on his elbow- enough touch to comfort, but hopefully not enough to make him uncomfortable.

He didn’t say anything, but for a moment, he looked at you. His eyes were full of unshed tears. You could feel your heart drop through you before it shattered somewhere deep inside. Without another thought, your grip on Spencer’s arm changed from a light graze to an undeniable hold.

When you spoke, you sounded panicked. You said his name and Spencer could practically feel it- like ice down his spine, like the feeling of falling just as your body goes to sleep. Ironically, it woke him up.

“Gideon’s dead.”

You tried to find a response to that, but the words escaped you. Mostly because you didn’t know who that was. Spencer saw the confusion on your face, and with a deep breath, he offered you the kindness of elaboration.

“He was- he got me into the FBI. He was important and now he’s dead.”

“Shit,” you brought your other hand up to hold his arm, “Spencer, I’m so sorry.”

“I have to go. I have to find the person that did this.”

You tried to hide your shock at the revelation that Spencer’s friend hadn’t just died- Gideon had been murdered. And Spencer wanted to solve the case.

What choice did you have but to support him? In his place, you would want to do the same thing- you just wouldn’t have the qualifications for it. Spencer, however, was part of the FBI. He could help solve this case, legally and responsibly. You had to let him go.

“Then find them. Don’t worry about your classes, I’ll cover them-”

“You-” he cut himself off with a broken laugh, “You didn’t even let me ask.”

“You don’t have to. I know you would do the same for me- even if you wouldn’t, I like talking shit about the FBI to your students. It’s fun for me, that's how I have fun. Now go,” you let one of your hands run up his arm, “Get out of here, solve some crimes, and legally get whoever did this behind fucking bars.”

Spencer put one of his hands over yours. You took the initiative and laced your fingers together. The two of you stared for a moment, focusing on nothing but your joined hands.

“I’m sorry,” he broke the silence- not by much. His voice wasn’t anything more than a whisper.

“Sorry? For what?”

“For coming in here and crying all over you.”

“Hey, don’t apologize for that. I cry all the time, remember? I cry constantly. I can start crying now, if you want me to-”

“That won’t be necessary,” he grinned, tracing tiny shapes into your skin with the tips of his fingers, “Thank you, though? Is that the appropriate thing to say? Thank you?”

“Thank you works for me.”

“Then, thank you.”

Silence flowed over you again, curling around your bodies like some sort of mist. For a moment, the universe stilled, preserving the two of you in a tiny soundless bubble of space and time.

“Go kick some criminal ass, pretty boy. Responsibly. And then come back here, okay?”

“I will. I promise.”

“Good. Because otherwise, I will turn your students into my little minions, and you’ll never get them back.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

With a final grin, you pulled back. Spencer did the same. You wound your arms around yourself and squeezed. The air in the office dropped a few degrees. Spencer’s hands twitched, tapping a nervous pattern into his thigh.

“I’ll see you later, (L/N).”

He stepped back, moving slowly. When he reached the doorway, he turned and headed down the hall at regular Spencer-speed. You just stood in the office like an idiot. For the second time that week, Reid had stunned you to silence.

The first time, when he brought your student’s paper to the community center, you were stunned by the kindness he displayed. The Spencer you knew was usually smarmy petty little shit. He had his moments (such as getting stabbed to protect you and sharing his office with you when yours got all haunted) but for the most part, he was a bit of a prick!

In that moment, though, Reid did something kind and considerate. He took care of someone who needed it. He reached out to a former inmate with compassion and empathy, and even though Reid had worked for the FBI, you wanted to bring him to the community center with you every goddamn Monday for the rest of time. That little action had exposed his heart to you- and yeah, most people would argue that the whole “taking a knife” thing was a better demonstration of character, but for whatever reason, this was what stunned you.

The second time he’d stunned you, he’d done it by leaving, and lord, this time was worse. This time the shock didn’t feel like butterflies swarming through your organs. It felt like fear. Like an unknown future was running at you with malevolent intent.

At one point, you had wanted this. You wanted Spencer to leave, but now? The fucker had carved out a space for himself right in the middle of your life. He’d built a little niche between your fourth and fifth ribs and moved right into you. You had functioned without him when he was in the hospital, but you had always figured he would come back. This was an indefinite leave of absence. This was an indefinite leave of absence after you had warmed to Spencer, after he had shown you (in multiple ways) that he could be kind.

You finally came back to your body, still feeling a slight numbness in your hands. You moved to the doorway just in time to watch Reid turn around the corner and vanish from sight.

“I’ll see you,” you said- though you weren’t loud enough for him to hear by any means, “Reid.”

Behind you, a couple books fell from their shelves. You didn’t even flinch.

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, @ghostatrixx, @reiding-writing, @mywellspringoflife, @80katie, @ms-ks-world, if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!! if you would like to be tagged and aren't, also let me know :D

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #x reader #nightmare academia

53 notes · View notes