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qyllenhaal · 3 years

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God’s Face in the Fire || Part 2

Dark!Lee Bodecker x Dark!Reader

Summary: A wife who would do anything to give her husband the world, even if it means getting herself involved with his trouble.

Word Count: 10.3k

Chapter warnings: dark themes!!! contains mentions of murder, non-graphic death scenes, smut (loss of virginity in a flashback scene), manipulation, brief mention of sexual assaults, misogyny, uncomfortable situations. Please heed the warnings!!! 18+ only

A/N: It's been forever since I posted. The last two weeks have left me discombobulated that it was hard to find time to sit down to write and edit this, but I'm glad I got to it! The next part is going to be the last part but I have plans to do one-shots for this universe. I'm going to be posting a Senator!Chris fic tomorrow so stay tuned for that.

Enjoy!

"You remember when I took you out for milkshakes and you spilled yours all over me? You were wearing that exact same color," Lee said pointing at the dress she was pressing.

"All those years ago, and you still remember that?" Y/n wanted to drown in this tender moment she's having with her husband. Hearing him laugh, his stomach shifting, and his eyes wrinkling.

"How could I? Watching you get all flustered and cute really got me goin’. It's when I knew I was gonna marry ya."

The days have been incredibly warm and beautiful since Y/n had done what she did. It was cruel irony that she was enjoying another day while someone’s body was rotting. The softer moments of life were few and far between these days, but right now she’s offered her a wonderful distraction.

She had taken on more tasks than usual to distract herself from the intrusive thoughts she had. She even accepted a last minute invite to help put on an event at the local rental hall with some of the other mothers in town. It gave her an excuse to look nice and show herself off to anyone who had some doubts about Lee. Things were looking good for him, but there was always something to do to further rehabilitate his image. She always looked her best as the sheriff's wife. Keeping up the appearances exhausted her since they have become more frequent for her. However if she wanted the people to fawn over her lovely family, she had to show up. An arts and crafts event for the kids is also a good chance to get their daughter out of the house.

Teenage Y/n did not see herself becoming a housewife so young. It was unsavory to think about being a homemaker for one of the boys’ at school. She surmised that she would’ve stuck by her original plan if she had not been so lonely. All of Y/n's friends left within a year of graduating high school. She didn't have that many friends to begin with, but she thought that at least one would always be there for her. Rose went to college, and Barbara found a man to marry and moved to upstate New York. Only one stayed for some time, Judith, but she eventually left after having a shotgun wedding. It was selfish of her to think that someone would stay just because she got rejected from the only college she had applied to. Other people had lives and Y/n was just not at the center of them.

The absence of her friends made her pregnancy more lonely. Her baby shower consisted of her family, Lee’s sister, and his co-workers and their wives. None of the women seemed to be fond of Y/n. It always plagued her mind to know if they thought she was too young and stupid or if it was just something else

She found solace in some of the other mother's in town. When she began showing up around to volunteer at bake sales and food drives she expected them to look at her face and then down at her belly and reject her. She is younger than them and feared they'd find her naïve. She had kept to herself for so long that she thought they'd write her off as the sheriff's meek wife.

Y/n didn't get a chance to mingle with anyone prior to her marriage and Lee made it harder by insisting in little ways that she stay in the house. No one was at fault that Lee wanted to keep her to himself. It was possible he did it out of insecurity, but Y/n now speculates that it was because he didn’t want to hear or even see what he may have been doing.

One of the ladies who Y/n only knew by her dark hair and distinct, pointy nose joked that Lee had, "finally let Rapunzel out of the castle." When the other mothers joined into laughter, she felt small. It was only a harmless joke that was steeped in the truth. It took her persistence to no longer wanting to feel alone while being pregnant to get the women to warm up to her, and the did.

"I remember spilling the milkshake, but I was too embarrassed to remember anything else about that night," she admitted.

Lee remembers that night very well. He wishes that she didn't end the night so quickly because she ruined a pair of trousers that could easily be replaced. He had only bought them to impress her, but it didn't take much to get her to swoon over him. No other man was giving her the time of day.

"We should go out to that diner Friday night. Now that we have someone to watch the little one, we don't have to stop by your parents to drop her off anymore. I can just scoop you up and we can have a night together," Lee pressed himself into Y/n's backside. She giggled when his hands lightly danced against her ticklish sides.

Lee had also been aware of the slim moments of intimacy with his wife. He was serious about this race but he truly underestimated how much time and effort he'd have to put into this. But people really did love the old mayor. The only slight Lee had against him was his old age and how some believed that if he kept going then he might run into some health problems. The rumors about him becoming more and more forgetful were minute compared to the dark gossip swirling about Lee though. Some of the people in town would probably vote for a paper bag before Lee.

His biggest fear is that he loses the election and drives his wife away. He could lose the race, but if his wife somehow slipped away, taking their baby with her, he’d drink himself into a stupor. Lee tried his very best to hide his insecurities from her. When he worried, she worried too and it made it much harder for him to plan his way out of whatever hole he is in when he has a hysterical wife to deal with. That's why he'd rather not tell her anything.

Lee also wasn't the young man in his prime anymore, he believed that his good looks were fading, and he has gained a considerable amount of weight. The fear of Y/n just up and leaving him for someone younger than him and riding off to the city always plagued him. The birth of their daughter should've assuaged him, but his self-doubt always lingered like a cloud that made him stick to his vices.

"I've really missed ya honey...missed this body of yours."

Y/n flinched when his hands ran down the front of her body, over her stomach and then circling up back to her breast. Her body has changed considerably since giving birth and the hormonal imbalance left her feeling tired, sad, and alone. Her mother told her that all she had to do was look at her child and she'd feel better, but every time she looked at her little girl all she did was worry. Was she a good mom? Why was her daughter crying so much without much working? Was Lee staying at work for long hours to avoid the crying and her? Did he still find her attractive?

They’re both too busy thinking Lee's mayoral bid to realize they felt the exact same way as each other. If there was any other time that proved they were an extension of each other, it was now, but they were too blind to see it.

"Lee y-you're going to be late for work," her voice was weakened by his lips now nipping at her neck.

"Don't give a damn," he whispered against her skin, inhaling her familiar scent, "just wanna feel my wife."

Today, Y/n felt herself slipping back into her normal self and normal life. She melted into Lee, hoping that maybe they could have a moment to themselves, but they were interrupted by the phone ringing downstairs. Every early morning and late night phone call had her on edge. They never seemed to be about anything important but it hasn't failed yet to make her stomach churn.

Lee groaned and pulled away from her. She watched him disappear to go answer the phone.

It has been nearly two days and the only thing on her mind is what happened after she left that brothel. The anxiety made her feel sick. Hours later after it happened, around 2 a.m., she woke up and darted to the toilet. Lee kept asking her if she was pregnant as he held her hair back while her face was in the toilet. She dismissed his claims, knowing full and well that she was just sickened by her actions.

Lee had not mentioned a death or anything related to that brothel, so had he even been found? Was his death even reported? The girls who worked for him were probably too worried about their own arrest than the death of their abusive boss.

She wiped the look of worry off of her face when she heard his heavy footsteps coming back up the stairs.

"Who was it?"

"Your brother," his tone held disgust, "invited us to dinner on Sunday. He asked to speak to you but I told him you were still sleep."

"Lee!"

"I don't want to hear it," his voice boomed, much more dominant and rough than hers, "I ain't having dinner with him and I don't want to hear your mouth about it."

Y/n stayed silent and watched him grab the police hat resting on the dresser. She hated for him to leave on such a sour note, but she wouldn't dare say anything in fear she might make things worse.

He started towards the door of their bedroom before turning back to his wife, "Sandy supposed to stop by Saturday. I don't know why, so don't ask, but she claims she's comin'. Who knows if she'll stick to her word."

It’s like Lee did that on purpose, as some sort of sick payback for her brother calling. Y/n was not fond of Sandy and did not like to be around her for more than ten minutes. Sandy was a nice girl, a bit unsavory at times, but her husband Carl was a stain on her life. There was something about him that reminded her of the men her mother had warned her about when she was a young teenager; a man with a slick tongue and a creepy air around him. However, she found Carl much more sinister than that. The look in Carl's eyes when he looked at her and flashed her that unsettling smile was imprinted into her brain. They did not come around much, but when they did it was always a traumatic experience for Y/n.

Lee left the room before Y/n could respond. He knows how Y/n feels, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. She’s not going to protest against it because she knows better than that. He focused on the sound of soft babbling from his daughter as he walked into her room.

"Hey you," she looked up at him with her big eyes and her widening smile that made his heart swell, "you gonna be good for your mama? You've been on a mean streak lately and I'd hate to make good on my threat and put you in baby jail."

His daughter reached up and tried to grab at his face. Lee was clean-shaven now, but for the first few months of his daughter's life he had enough hair on his face for her to grab a hold of. It was funny to see how she still tried to grab at his non-existent hair, pinching his skin in the process.

"Miss the beard little lady? You're just like your mama," he kissed her forehead and felt a deep sense of guilt that he had to leave her to go to work. But everything he did was for her and if he believes that the long hours are going to pay off. All of his work is going to pay off when he wins that race.

The dress her daughter wore was blush to complement her mother's golden one. She looked around at every single building and person they passed as if it was her first time seeing it again. Her sense of wonder always made Y/n adore her even more. Y/n wondered what was going on in the little mind of her and what sense she made of the world.

She was never fussy when they were out, which was good for Y/n, but also good for the rehabilitation of Lee's image. He has such a good daughter and pretty wife, he must be doing something right. Every single person who stopped to say hi or coo at how cute her baby was, Y/n wondered if they have ever said something negative about Lee. Y/n never received weird stares or grimaces that would make her paranoid, but she still felt on edge. She always wanted to be on her best behavior, especially when Lee was not with her.

Y/n was forced to be her normal self; cheerful even though her mind was reeling over two nights ago, her sister-in-law, and what the conversation between Lee and her brother this morning may have sounded like. When one of the toddlers thrusted their drawing her face she feigned an excited smile. She hoped the mother's didn't notice her lackluster attitude.

"Y/n , can I speak with you?"

It was Sally's voice that called to her. She looked at the blonde woman with a bit of panic on her face. She thought that she was going to get chewed out by her, especially since she pulled her far away from the other children, and her daughter who was being held by one of the recently graduated girls.

"Is everything alright Sally?"

"I should be asking you that. Why am I hear things about Mrs. Blackwater sayin' she seen your Lee dumpin' bodies in the river behind her house?" At that moment Y/n could not hear her despite her lips still moving. Her blood ran cold at that last name being mentioned. It's been years, close to a decade, since she thought about that old woman, but the mere mention of her name brought Y/n back to a place she didn't want to be.

"I-I...I don't know what she's talking about-"

"My husband and I made a sizable donation to your husband's campaign, and it would be a shame to see him lose," the sugary voice and fake smile on Sally's face made Y/n's stomach ache. She didn't like how some of these women could be so fake because it always made her question if they really liked her or not. But Sally didn't care what Y/n would respond with, all she cared about was her and her husband's reputation, "you're not that much younger than me so you remember them days when that old bitch would be on her porch spewin’ whatever nonsense she could think if at any girl who walked on her sidewalk. No one likes Mrs. Blackwater, but don't think for a second they won't consider what she has to say about that husband of yours. I've heard too many whispers about him and I don't like it. I'll pull my endorsements if you don't fix this shit."

Was murdering one person not enough to save her husband from losing this race? The brothel owner was one person, someone who would not be missed by many people, but could she do something about Mrs. Blackwater?

'That's not right, that's not right.'

No matter how much she tried to shake that evil idea off, it kept creeping into her mind. Murder was the unlikely tool she had in her arsenal all along. It was morally wrong to kill someone, but her victim and the potential one had not been nice people. Mrs. Blackwater's stain on this Earth paled in comparison to Reed's, but that woman made her blood run much colder than the brothel owner.

It was so ironic that Mr. Blackwater was a beloved man in town because no one could stand his wife. They knew not to cross her path and that pies and home cooked meals would not abate her disdain for people. A man who was so kind and friendly was married to the most antisocial person Y/n has ever come across. But he never wasted a moment to sing her her praises. Y/n remembers one of her sons and he was mean just like his mother; a school yard bully that would beat up on anyone he saw as weak and alone. Y/n was lucky that he knew she had an older brother to protect because the Blackwater’s youngest boy never tried anything with her. However, she was not lucky enough to escape the wrath of Mrs. Blackwater. The irony was that she probably would've been better off being a victim of her son. That woman was nasty and wasn't afraid to show it.

"Don't you two get tired of dressing like whores?"

They had to pass the Blackwater house to get to Rose's house. Her house used to be at the end of the street before it got burned down, leaving the Blackwater house the last one on the street. It was nice, and had a big, big porch that Mrs. Blackwater always sat on for most of the day. She didn't stop at calling them just "whores'' and "wenches" either. Y/n never could understand why they always took the brunt of that woman's anger. Rose went home in tears every time she walked by that house. Maybe Y/n's anger is displaced, but she blames Mrs. Blackwater for why Rose was so eager to leave. There wasn't much here, but Rose always promised she'd stay. But ever since they encountered Mrs. Blackwater's misery, Rose had changed.

She could imagine that same venomous voice saying awful things about her husband, "Lee Bodecker put that body in the water. I saw it with my own two eyes!"

The thought of her husband killing someone shouldn't sound so crazy, especially after being able to do it herself. But her Lee can't be a cold-hearted man who slept with whores, murdered people, and ruined people lives. He was so sweet to her, he wasn't always was, but his touch was so soft against her skin, how could he hurt anyone?

Y/n had just turned 19 when she met Lee. He was a deputy, closer to being the sheriff than either of them knew at the time. Their age difference scared her somewhat; she only gave him a chance so she could distract herself from reminding herself that she should be finishing up the last year of being a college freshman. She had the grades and thought her test scores were satisfactory but she got rejected from Indiana University. Her father told her that there is always next year, but her mother told her she should just figure out a new plan.

It was the uncertainty and loneliness that made her get closer to Lee. He was close to his late 20s, unmarried, and he didn't exactly make his loneliness unknown.

He left a sour taste in her mouth in their very first encounter; pulling her over as an excuse to get her number. She gripped the steering wheel to stop them from shaking so much. She only had her license for a few weeks and made sure to be careful in fear of this exact situation happening. His slick talk didn't make her feel that much better either. She was too shaken up to even look at him in the eye or take in any of his features. She just remembered seeing his badge the words DEPUTY SHERIFF etched into it.

Lee let her off, saying she had a "pretty face" and that he hoped to see her around. She didn't think much about their interaction the days after he pulled her over, but she began to see him more than before. Y/n couldn't remember a time she had seen him prior to that one night and found it odd that his face kept reappearing. (He later told her that it was fate, but it was not. Lee purposefully put himself in her orbit. It was not hard to learn what her routine was and when she went out.)

She was weary about his advances, unsure how to react to them because the most experience she's had was with two boys, only one of whom she kissed. Their first date was not by choice either, he just decided to stick by her side while she was at the local dinner by herself.

And he has always stuck by since then, always hovering around her until she realized he was not going to go away and it’d be futile to ignore him. Lee never gave her the chance to make the decision for herself, but his girl was so sweet and she just needed a few cushy words for her to understand that this was where she belonged.

"Do your parents know you're out here meeting me?" It had only been a matter of time before she learned to be very obedient to him; always accepting his plans, even if it meant sneaking out of the house in the midnight hour. The smirk he wore on his face every time he watched her walk up to him left her feeling enchanted.

"Don't talk too loud. If my brother hears you he'll kill you and have my head."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her front to him. Lee groaned at the feel of her breast against his chest. She was so nervous to do anything with him that she only let him kiss her. It was fine for a while, but he had grown tired of waiting. Tired of being teased by her in those soft, pink dresses that would ride up whenever she had to bend over even just a little bit. He couldn't believe how naive she was to believe he was always dropping things like a pencil or his wallet on accident; he just wanted to see her bend over for him just for a chance to peak at what pretty panties she wore that day.

Getting her to come out with him at night was surprising, but the idea of riding in his patrol car was so alluring. The sparkle in her eyes gave him an overwhelming sense of machismo; enough for him to realize he just needs to take what she wants.

The full moon hung in the clear sky and they had a vast, open field in front of them. He took her just to the edge of the county that was secluded and was his favorite spot to go for some quiet (or getting his dick sucked). The moonlight and a few street lights that were actually working were the only light they had.

"You look so pretty today baby," his hand rested on her thigh the whole entire drive but only now did he actually move it to stroke her skin, "you always look so pretty for me. I'm the luckiest man in town."

Y/n giggled and her face felt like it was burning up. No one had taken the time to compliment her sweetly, and that was obvious to Lee. He cradled her face in the palm of his hand and watched her turn into putty. His hand inches closer to her heat causing her to jump like his hand was made of actual fire.

"Relax baby...just relax for me," Lee planted his face in her neck and nipped at it. His lips tickled the skin on her neck and she did her best to suppress her giggles but they spilled from her lips. Lee smirked against her skin, "there she is. There's my girl."

She let a laugh slip through, but she suppressed the moan that was stuck in her throat. It was so odd to feel him on her neck but it was an unfamiliar feeling that she liked. His hand never left her thigh, in fact he had sneakily moved it closer to her sex. She felt ashamed about the growing wetness that she could feel sticking to her.

Lee grabbed her hand and placed it right over the bulge straining in his pants. She let out a heavy sigh when she realized what it was. "That's how hard you make me. You making me so fucking hard girl," he growled in her ears. This was something only the senior girls from her high school could dream about when they talked about hooking up with their boyfriends. None of them were even half the man Lee was, and here he was: hard and ready just for her.

"L-Lee," her voice broke into bits, her body overheating from Lee taking control, "wait, can we slow down?"

"You taste so sweet baby," he continued kissing her, ignoring her until she was pulling away from his grasp. "What's wrong girl?" The furrowing of his brow made her worry that she pissed him off. Lee was all she had, he convinced her to put away her dream of going to college and stay here for him, if she ran him off then she'd have nothing else.

"I'm just nervous. I’ve never done this before Lee," she hoped her honesty went a long way and would make him take her home instead. But all it did was make him readjust himself in his seat and pull away from her rather coldly.

Lee was irritated with her, she got him all hard, but he did his best to temper his anger. She's lucky that he was on the job all day and didn't have a chance to drink yet or else she'd see the side of him that he purposely hid from her.

"Don't be nervous baby. You know I love you right?" She nodded her head with her wide eyes holding a sad look in them, "good girl. Let me show you something."

Lee patted his lap and Y/n looked at him with apprehension.

"C'mon now," he patted his lap once again, this time with a bit of impatience in his voice.

Y/n awkwardly shifted over the center console of his patrol car and found herself in his lap. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder. She tried to ignore how his bulge poked at her slit through her cotton panties.

"You ever been in a car this nice before?"

"Uh-uh," she shook her head, somewhat distracted by the beautiful interior and his cock poking at her. The only car she's ever drove was the shitty one that was passed down to her. Lee's patrol car doesn't look like it's more than five years old.

Seeing her look in wonder at the dash made him even harder. He began to rut against her, trying to feel as much friction as he could, but it wasn't enough to satiate a man who has been waiting a few months for this.

He sat back and started fumbling with his pants. Y/n heard the sound of the metal on his belt and unzipping of his pants but she froze on top of him instead of moving. She grabbed the steering wheel and held onto it as tight as she did the night he first laid eyes on her. Her alarm rose when Lee lifted her up a little to push her panties to the side.

"Lee what are you doing-"

"Shhh baby don't worry, I got you."

The sensation of his head poking at her slit and her sliding down him was unspeakable. She was uncomfortable with his splitting size, but he didn't move her at all, trying to give her some time to adjust but it was just so hard for him to restrain himself. She was so tight and warm, and definitely untouched by any man. "Fuck," he mumbled warmly in her ear. She felt him wrap his arm tighter around her, almost as if he was afraid she was going to somehow run away from him. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't know her way back home and she'd be stuck out here. She was safe with Lee even though she found herself feeling more confusion than pleasure.

Those girls from her high school days had to been lying to her, sex didn’t feel all that magical; his patrol car was not a romantic place to lose her virginity. Lee rocked her on his cock slowly as she tried to find the same pleasure that he was experiencing. His heavy breath was on her ear as she stared straight up into the night sky.

"You feel so good. You feel so fucking good baby."

His pleasure is what made her want to stay on top of him like this. She cared for him so much and she just wanted Lee to be proud of her. The "good girl" that continuously spilled from his lips sounded like a hymn she wanted to memorize.

Y/n let Lee have his way with her body. He groped her breast through her dress and then let his hands graze her sides. She wondered what he was doing when his hand slipped into her panties, but the warmth that shot through her made her mind go blank. Lee rubbed at her sensitive bud and she constricted around him. Instead of whimpering, she was now fully moaning; the way it felt so good had put her discomfort into the back of her mind.

"Oh fuck -- move your hips girl. You feel so good."

He rubbed her harder as a reward for swirling her hips against him. She began to bounce on top of him and he no longer had to do the hard work, just lean back and feel her engulfing him in her warmth.

"Lee," she whimpered, unsure of herself, but then she called his name again, "Lee," as if to let him know that he was the one giving her pleasure.

Lee knew he wasn't going to last, not when she was as tight and wet as she was. He can't remember the last time he took someone's virginity, nor when he was this hard. It was clear to him that she had no idea what she was doing by the way she bounced on him without a rhythm. Sometimes she'd stall herself before moving fast again. It didn't irk him, he found it endearing that she was so inexperienced. He was going to have to show her a lot of things and get her to fuck him to his liking.

Y/n gasped when Lee pulled out of her and jerked himself until white liquid was splashing on the back of her panties. She'd have to wash them before her mother saw the stain.

"You did so good baby, taking my cock like a big girl," he placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek, still trying to catch his breath while she shifted on top of him. He put himself away and nudged her towards the empty passenger seat. She was silent the entire time he drove her home. A sense of pride filled her because she had made Lee feel good. The sex itself was too weird to describe as being good, but she liked how she felt inside when he told her she felt good and that she made him cum. That's all she wanted to do was please Lee.

Saturday morning proved to be another beautiful day. It seems as if Summer didn't want to leave just yet even though October was near. There wouldn't be many more opportunities for Lee to make his impressions and sway the last few voters not on his side.

The event had been boring at most, but Sally's words really shook her up. No one in town would deny that Mrs. Blackwater has always been a bitter women, but they also wouldn't necessarily turn the other cheek if she starts going around saying that Lee Bodecker is a murder. Y/n's new problem made her forget about the decaying brothel owner. She doesn't care how mean the whole town thought the old woman was, she wanted her gone.

"You slept in. Did I tire you out last night?" Lee had the same smug smirk on his face that has been imprinted on her brains since their early years together.

Y/n nodded even though it wasn't completely truthful. She slept so hard because she's mentally spent and it was finally catching up with her body. Lee had been too distracted to notice how distant she was last night and how she is still distant now. In his eyes, as long as she was eager to lay under him then everything was fine.

Most mornings started like this: Y/n waking up next to her still tired husband and waiting to hear her daughter crying for her. He trudged out of bed and she heard him beat a path down the hall to the bathroom. There was still no sound of her daughter needing her, giving her some time alone. It was nearly silent except for the faint sound of the shower going. She breathed deeply and found herself feeling serene. Just five minutes without the memory of Sally threatening to pull her and her husband's support taunting her.

"Y/n! Do you not hear her crying?" Lee held a stern look on face, he must have been standing there for a few minutes. His towel was wrapped around his waist, stomach hanging over the soft white cotton, "what's wrong with you girl?"

She shook her head, "nothing Lee. I'm just still a lil' tired."

His face softened at her explanation but he nodded his head towards the door so she could take care of their daughter. Y/n hurried not to upset him for the rest of the day.

Their baby was just fussy and hungry. Her little eyes weren’t that red so she hadn’t been crying for long. “You hungry?” Her daughter somewhat understood what her mother was saying because her eyes went wide. The nightgowns Lee had bought Y/n made it much easier for her to pull herself out of them to feed their girl. She could see her daughter calming down, eyes closing once again. Y/n thought about keeping her daughter with her but she needed to rest in her crib. She placed her down gently as not to disturb and wake her again. At least one person in this family deserves peace.

"Back to sleep?" Lee's voice startled her, but the hand on her hip soothed her. Y/n nodded, never taking her eyes away from her girl. "Precious isn't she? So sweet when she's not fussin' about."

"She only fusses because she's teething, and she misses her father."

"Honey, you know why I'm at work longer than usual. It's for her. It's for you. It's for us. Do you know how much better her life, your life, is going to be better after I win that race?"

"But what if you don't win?"

Y/n rarely questions Lee, not even over small things, so he was confused as to why she was questioning him now. Did his wife not believe in him? She worried a lot, but when he first ran for sheriff, she was not this doubtful.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Lee, I didn't say that. It's just that people been talkin' and -"

"And you believe them? So my own wife doesn't think I'm going to win because a few people can’t got some things wrong?”

Y/n flinched as his voice got louder. The brashness of his voice woke their girl up from her attempt to fall into a deep sleep. Instead of waking up and silently looking around, the first thing that came from her was a cry. It served as a way for Y/n to escape Lee's wrath. She pulled her crying daughter into her arms and held her close to her chest. One glance at Lee's face and she knew he was going to deal with her later. But for now he just sighed and walked out of the nursery.

"Aww don't cry honey. It was just your daddy, okay? He's not mad at you sweetheart. Don't cry...don't cry," Y/n's voice cracked and tears slipped down her face. Her pleas were more for herself than they were her daughter.

Lee's hesitance to address the obvious problems he faces in regards to the election made Y/n feel uneasy. All she wanted was for her husband to just outright say he never did those things, but he never did. And if Y/n has resulted to murder, then she knows deep down that he did some of those things that people allege. There were just things that were too loud to drown out. The business when it came to solving a string of murders that happened a few years ago and people talking about him didn't affect him when he was going for re-election. There was no one else that had a strong enough presence to go against him and the folks in town figured that Lee gets enough done as far as crime goes, even though he could do more.

Y/n should be tired of trying to clean up his mess when he was so short with her. However it is not entirely his fault; he does not know. Maybe one day he'll learn and be grateful for what she has done for him.

Lee just couldn't stop reminding her that Sandy and Carl were coming over. It's almost as if he knew it got under Y/n's skin and used it against her after she hurt his feelings this morning. He's a sensitive one, even though he hides it well from most people, but her moment of vulnerability wasn't meant to hurt him. Though if their conversation had progressed any further, she might have spilled what she did to the brothel owner. She may want to believe Lee would be proud of her, but she cannot be so sure. It's sickening to assume that someone would be proud of a murder. She quickly began to feel dirty after a few minutes with her own thoughts ever since Lee snapped at her.

"Can you clean up? We're going to be having guests soon."

There were just a few baby toys on the floor but it was best not to make things worse with Lee (even though those toys were going to end up in the same place anyway).

Lee stepped outside as Y/n put their daughter in her high chair. Ever since her birth Lee was mindful not to smoke in the house; it was one of the house rules Y/n proposed that he was surprisingly very accepting of. She had taken away most of the things that he used to destress: alcohol, cigarettes, and candies.

She heard the motor of a car and Lee's muffled voice. She knew it was them, but hoped they were just making a short trip over. It's not like Lee likes Carl, and he's constantly complaining about his trouble making sister. Y/n hates that Sandy uses their daughter as an excuse to come over. She wouldn't mind if Sandy came alone, but she hated Carl around her little girl and she's sure Lee feels the same way.

Y/n's mother had gotten their daughter such a stupid gift when she was born. A baby that's not even half a year old yet didn't need a toy that had a million little pieces they could easily choke on, but of course it was her favorite thing to place with. Lee never cleaned up the mess, it was always Y/n who was doing it. She tried her best to pick everything up before they stepped inside but she heard the front door open. She tensed up, but she only heard the heavy footsteps of one person, and god did she hope it was Lee.

"What you doin' down there?"

Her eyes trailed up and Carl was gazing down at her. Words got caught in her throat and she clutched her hand around one of the toy pieces, the edges of it painfully digging into her palm.

"Did I scare you?"

The smirk on her face made her want to shriek. She noted that he didn't call her "darlin'" like he used to. She can only guess what Lee did to him when he "took him out back" after calling her that for a few years.

"Where's my niece?"

Y/n shot up, not caring about the toys still on the floor. She'll be damned if Carl is alone with her daughter for even a second.

Sandy came in with Lee following behind her. He gave Y/n a look of understanding, he too hoped this was going to be a short visit. The sound of Sandy fawning over her niece overtook the room. Their daughter giggled and babbled at her aunt as if she could understand her.

"Y/n go make us some ice tea."

Usually Lee doesn't command her to do things, unless he was stressed or horny. She knew her was the former by the look on his face. He was aggravated and this visit wasn't going to make him feel any better. As Y/n left the room, Sandy sat down on their couch with their daughter in her arms. Carl sat next to them, making the alarm in Lee rise.

"I got you something honey," she pulled out a little doll from her purse. It looked tattered and Lee wondered where she got it from.

"You know she already has enough dollies," Lee joked. It didn't matter to his girl, it was a new toy, "got anything for your brother?"

Sandy eyes him before pulling out a small bag of candy. She tossed it to him and he caught it, "I knew you'd ask for somethin'"

He opened it and instantly popped a sweet cherry candy into his mouth.

"Y/n's not letting me drink since the girl is so young. This is the only thing I got, even though she's on my ass about that too," Lee knew that Sandy wasn't too interested in the ins-and-outs of his everyday life but he gets tired of complaining to his deputies.

"Yea, I bet," she kept a snide comment about her sister-in-law to herself. The box of cigarettes she had calling her name we're going to have to wait. "How's that mayor race going?"

"It's going."

"Heard that whore house owner croaked," Carl's voice carried to the kitchen and Y/n paused, "found in unusual circumstances...chairs pushed up against the door...poisoned. Reckon one of those girls got tired of him holdin' them down-"

"No smoking in the house," Lee interrupted when he noticed Carl reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. Carl laughed as if he wanted to challenge Lee, but his hand went back to resting on the back of the couch.

"Wouldn't want this little darlin' smellin' like a bar."

Anytime Carl spoke at or about her daughter, Y/n wanted to vomit. Carl is not nice. She wonders how twisted Sandy might be to marry someone who is awful to women and has no filter.

There was a cloud of fear over her head when Carl was around. She wishes Lee was more apprehensive but Sandy's his little sister, and he cares for her no matter how much those two causes. Things would be different if Y/n had told Lee about that time Carl pressed himself against and put his hand up the skirt of her dress. His threat would forever bounce off her skull and it only got louder when he was near. "Shut you're fucking mouth or else your husbands gonna see his slut wife bending over for another man." She was five months pregnant and had no way to defend herself. He only groped her, but she always wondered if he would've gone further if Sandy hadn't come in looking for the cooking tongs Lee told her to fetch. Sandy knew something had happened, but she said nothing. Y/n's disdain for her only grew from that day on.

Lee redirected the conversation from what Carl had started to something a bit more asinine. He didn't want to talk about something work-related because he didn't need to be stressed out any further. Reed’s death wasn't another blow to his reputation like Lee thought it would. It was going to be another unsolved murder from the way it was looking though. The people assumed one of the girls did it. The place had been emptied out; it surely looked different from when Lee was last in there. Lee was lucky that Reed was extremely disliked, unlike that preacher Roy who died some years ago. More people said "he had it coming" instead of "why isn't the sheriff doing anything?"

He laughed about it though. When he was alone in the car after leaving the crime scene, he laughed. There was no more worrying about the rumor that Sheriff Lee Bodecker beat one of his girls. When Lee did go to that place, he was never forceful. Lee could be mean towards women at times, but he was never violent.

If Lee was called in on a Sunday morning, then it was very important. He woke Y/n up at 5 am and kissed her out of her confused state to say goodbye. She only slept for another hour after laying her head down back on the pillow.

This morning felt so different.

The morning she woke up knowing her task was to deal with Reed, she was distracted and jumpy. But she had grown so accustomed to her guilt that it's become a comfortable feeling. Mrs. Blackwater was a more personal score to settle. That woman was throwing dirt on Lee's name, but the turmoil she caused her teenage friend would never leave her mind. Y/n had learned how cruel someone could be without physically hurting you. The boys on school grounds were annoying brats, but that woman had a truly awful mouth.

The Petersons’ daughter was over right after church. She had a wide smile on her face, happy that Mrs. Bodecker was giving her another opportunity to make some money.

"She's been a fairly good mood lately," Y/n handed her daughter off to the shorter teenage girl, "she slept through the night for once, but she's still gonna need a nap. Once she starts fussin' put her in her crib. I should be back before Lee."

Y/n wished her well and the Petersons girl wished Y/n a good time running her errands. It was comical to think of this as an errand, even though today she was going to treat it like one.

She was in Lee's nice car again meaning she was going to have to temporarily get rid of it. Y/n put much more effort into this, her haphazard plan to take out Reed could've gone horribly wrong. She spent her time snooping around town when she was out with one of her mom friends. The plan had been simple: park the car at the crowded grocery just two blocks away from the Blackwater house. The house sat at the end of the street, a bit separated from the other row of houses because of the larger amount of land they owned. It wouldn't be a problem to walk to the house seeing as others in this neighborhood do the same thing.

When her mother had made that dress for her to wear to the Spring Formal, Y/n cried, saying she was going to look like a nurse instead of "the prettiest girl in town" like Jim, the guy who asked her to the dance said. A teenage grievance had somehow come in handy almost a decade later. It was under a long coat that was a bit abnormal for this warm day.

Y/n felt sickly confident. That only thing she worried about was Lee cruising through and seeing his car in the parking lot. But the grocery store offered a great cover. The sun was covered by a thick cloud as she walked away from the grocery store and to the old Blackwater house.

That porch still looked the same. It was old and rickety, squeaking as she stepped on it, she's surprised it didn't give it away some years ago. The rocking chair Mrs. Blackwater sat on while terrorizing people was no longer there. At least her days of scaring off the newer generation of kids were over.

Y/n knocked on the door and waited. She had to knock again, and by the third time she wondered if the old lady did the job for her!

"Who is it?" The voice was much more frail, but it was that voice.

"I'm here to help!" The upturn of her voice at the end made her statement sound more like a question.

The locks on the door began to click and Mrs. Blackwater peered at her.

"You're not the one they always send."

"Oh, she's sick today! I'm just filling in for her today!" After two weeks of watching, Y/n learned what days Mrs. Blackwater's nurse came and went. She came everyday but she was absent on Sundays. It's somewhat astounding that Mrs. Blackwater didn't ask about Y/n turning up on a Sunday.

"Ahh whatever," she dismissed, unlocking the screen door, and wheeling backwards in the wheelchair that she had been relegated to a few years ago.

Y/n didn't know what to expect when she stepped inside, but it wasn't too far off from how her parent's house looked; black and white photos littering the walls and stacks of paper that probably could've been thrown away a decade ago. What is different from her parent's home is that this place is an utter mess. The nurse that usually comes to take care of her could at least tidy it up a bit. With how much she hated everything, Y/n would've assumed she hated mess too, but her home says otherwise. This lady was an absolute hoarder.

"Don't bother me," Mrs. Blackwater sniped at her. She wheeled herself next to the couch and glued her eyes to the black and white television screen.

Y/n doesn't know how many hours Mrs. Blackwater spent sitting there and watching The Andy Griffin Show. She didn't laugh when something funny happened, she just sat there still, sometimes grumbling to herself in reaction to what was happening on screen.

The least Y/n could do was tidy up a bit. It would be a kind gesture to leave her to die in a presentable place.

Mrs. Blackwater is not going to die a violent death. She was awful, but she did not deserve the brutality like someone who has done physical harm did. (If she was just a little bit braver, she would've hacked him to death, but the sight of blood makes her ill). Mrs. Blackwater was up in age, nearing her 90s, and it would be time for her to go soon anyway. Y/n dusted around the TV, one of the last things this old woman may see. All the photos of people on the walls were staring at her as she moved about cleaning the dust from the frames. So many people, many dead but most probably alive. Mrs. Blackwater had children and probably grandchildren but no one came to visit her. Her tongue was sharp, but how could no one come and visit their aging mother?

"Stop moving so damn much. Sit down girl."

The venom was still in her voice. It would never go away, at least not until she dies. This woman didn't appreciate anything and enjoyed being miserable. Y/n listened to her like that scared little teenager she used to be. She sat on the couch, a few feet away from Mrs. Blackwater who had not taken her eyes off the TV or moved at all. Y/n was spending time with a woman who was going to die at her hands today. If she's going to die then at least she's going to die doing what she loves; watching her shows and bitching out the closest person in reach.

She had only moved to grab the newspaper from the table on the other side of her. It was Friday's addition, Y/n could tell from the photo on the cover. She couldn't help but eye the old woman as she read the paper. It has been probably three hours and she hasn't even asked for anything to eat.

"People droppin' like flies in this shit hole."

Y/n's ears perked up, but she didn't say anything, she just let the lady talk.

"Leroy should know better not to do that shit here...especially with that corrupt sheriff around...would've had an easier time gettin' away with it in the city. Everyone in the city already does all that illegal shit so it probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Now he’s dead."

Y/n had heard that name before. She remembers vividly Lee chewing someone out on the phone and saying their name with contempt. Leroy, Leroy, Leroy. The name "Bobo" also came up in the conversation a few times. Y/n wanted to be mad at Mrs. Blackwater for referring to her husband as "corrupt" but something nagged at her to keep the conversation going for her sake.

"W-what do you mean?" Her voice cracked but it was ignored by the old woman.

"You must not be from here. Everyone knows that if you get caught up with that fat bastard sheriff you must be doin’ some awful shit. The only reason why he keeps gettin' re-elected is because everyone is scared of him. It doesn't matter how many babies that man has, he's a killer...dragging that man's body and fucking up carnations..."

No one had ever talked to Mrs. Bodecker about her husband like this. Town gossipers had the decency to wait until she left the room to say something about him. But she's not Mrs. Bodecker right now. It does not matter anyway because the old lady doesn't know what she's talking about. She hasn't spent the hours with Lee, with him being sweet and so soft with his daughter. Y/n firmly believes that if Lee did indeed kill someone then it was for a good reason. She knows her husband involves himself in dirty things, but it had to be for a good reason. Lee did not show brutality for no reason; he didn't get his rocks off on hurting innocent people.

"People can change. I'm sure he's a different man now."

"Why!? Because he got a bitch and a bastard? You are too naïve...at least the other girl they send has some more sense in her head. No man is going to want to marry a dumb girl."

An awkward silence surrounded them but it was mostly felt by Y/n. She found herself frozen with a ball of rage and anxiety in her stomach. But she had no time to dwell for much longer though.

"I'm thirsty...go make me something."

Y/n noticed Mrs. Blackwater flinching when she grabbed the remote to turn the volume higher. She either had arthritis or just pain in her hands.

"Okay...do you need to take any pills at this time?"

"My husbands gone and my children don't visit me. You think I care about taking my pills?"

Maybe Mrs. Blackwater would be kind to her if she knew Y/n was going to take her out of her misery. Breaking open the capsules and dumping it in the tea she made for her is going to do the job. She might succumb to a heart attack, or pass peacefully. The only person Y/n felt bad for was the poor nurse who was going to find her dead tomorrow morning.

Lee was able to leave his shift earlier than expected. Sundays are very quiet, the only thing he got up to was paperwork at the station. He could go home early to his wife, play with the girl while Y/n makes dinner, and get a nice ride from his wife while their daughter sleeps. Y/n said something about needing him to pick up some chicken stock from the grocery store.

People filled in and out of the grocery store as the sun began to set. A few people spoke to him, never for too long knowing that he's not fond of small talk. But more people being friendly with him was a good sign. Even without his sweet wife next to him, no one shied away from saying hello to the man running for Mayor.

Two boxes of chicken stock should be enough even though his wife sent him for three. The brand she likes isn’t exactly cheap. Lee promptly made his way to the cashier who greeted him with a smile.

"Good evening sheriff!" her voice was sweet and she batted her eyes a few times. Lee offered her a smile, but a small laugh escaped. This girl couldn't be younger than 20 but she fawned over him like a young school girl. Her behavior reminded him of Y/n when she was that age. "Darlene said she saw your car in the parking lot but didn't get a chance to catch Mrs. Bodecker herself."

Lee stopped caring about the items (a few snuck in there for him) being rung up. His brows furrowed and the girl realized that she had said something maybe she shouldn't have.

"My wife was here?"

"That's what Darlene said. Her shift ended right as I was coming in so I wasn't there when it happened...do you still want the chicken stock?"

"Yea yea just ring it up."

Lee's mind was too preoccupied with the weird behavior his wife has been exhibiting for the last several weeks. She often hovered over him when he was on the phone like she was interested in what he was talking about. All the swearing and terms she didn't understand kept her from asking what his loud, and often abrasive, phone conversations were about. But now she was listening a little too hard for his liking.

The only time Y/n was supposed to drive their car is if Lee told her she could or if there was an emergency. A trip to the grocery store did not fall under either of those categories. But it was particularly weird to him that she would go to the store when she told him to go himself. If she had forgotten something, she would have not hesitated to call the station. Something was up with her.

Everything felt normal as he stepped into the house. The smell of what she was cooking hit his nose and the familiar noises of his daughter babbling louder than the Y/n moving around the kitchen. If he had no questions for his wife, then he'd feel all warm inside walking into his home in this current state.

Y/n was talking to their daughter as if she was holding a real conversation with her. Their daughter started squealing when she saw Lee appear in the doorway. He put his index finger to his lips to tell her to quiet herself, but she was only louder.

"I couldn't believe it either! They said the hairdresser purposefully dyed Marie's hair darker," she spoke, thinking her daughter was just squealing because she was talking to her and not because her husband was creeping up behind her.

Hands snaked around her waist and she nearly jumped. "Oh yea? Is that what the town is gossipin' about today?" Lee's familiar voice soothed her and she turned around in his arms. She deftly kissed him and looked up at him.

"Wanna know what else I heard?" He whispered to her. Y/n nodded, a smile spreading on her face as she rested her forehead against his, "heard the sheriff's wife been out and about and driving his nice car."

Y/n's smile fell from her face, but it only made Lee smile wider.

"You wanna tell me what you were doing out?"

"I needed something from the store."

"So my task to pick up the chicken stock after work was for nothing?"

"No...I went to my parents house...didn't want to go empty-handed. You know how my mother gets."

What a sweet little liar.

But she still had the smell of an old house lingering around her so maybe it wasn’t completely a lie. Still, he knew something was up with her.

“How was work?” She quickly tried to change the subject. Lee was not really in the mood to interrogate her, it was Sunday after all. He sat down in the chair next to his daughter's high chair. She started reaching for his hat but he was too far away, so Lee rested his head on the tray and let her have her fun. Y/n was probably going to be mad at him for putting his head where she eats and getting all of his “outside germs” all over it, but he didn’t care.

“I’m tired,” he confessed, a heavy sigh escaping him, “I’m really fucking tired.”

Y/n wishes she could lift more of her husband’s burdens. Killing people who were talking about him did not get rid of the core problem. Sometimes she wishes he never decided to run for mayor. Life was so much more comfortable when he would run unopposed for county sheriff. Instead her husband had a bigger dream. From the very beginning she felt like it was a long shot that this would be successful, but they had gotten so far in changing how most of the people viewed Lee. And even though they felt a way about him, they still respected the sheriff.

“It’s going to be over soon. I promise.”

He truly wanted to believe her, but the sinking feeling that the past was going to catch up with him was not going away.

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker smut #the devil all the time #dark fic #lee bodecker fic #sebastian stan fic

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walviemort · 4 years

Text

hidden blessing (6/?)

Summary: Killian thought the only thing he was left with after Milah’s death was a broken heart and a thirst for vengeance. It’s not until he gets to Storybrooke, after so many years spent in stasis, that he discovers something else: he’s carrying her child. How does this new, tiny blessing change his path? (Canon-divergent from 2x12.)

a/n: I didn’t realize it had been so long since I updated—apologies! Hopefully I haven’t lost you, and hopefully the next one will go up sooner. Dedicated as always to the amazing @sherlockianwhovian <3

“If you must know,” he started, then leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’m pregnant.”

Emma stared at him for a moment, then scoffed. “Seriously? This is no time for jokes.”

A spark of anger quickly ignited within Killian; he wasn’t sure if that was his normal temper, or the hormones playing a part. “Why the bloody hell would I make something like that up?”

“I don’t know; some weird attempt to lighten the mood.”

“Am I lying?” he snapped back.

She opened her mouth a few times, trying to come up with an equal retort, but he saw the realization of his truth wash over her. She finally came up with, “That’s impossible.”

“Afraid not.”

She blinked in disbelief and looked him up and down, her gaze eventually settling on his midsection. His bump was still mostly hidden by the bulk of his vest, but if one knew to look, they could see the way his stomach curved just above his belt. “Wait, for real?”

If it weren’t for the taste of bile on his tongue, he probably would have found humor in her reaction. As it was, he simply longed for a drag from the waterskin Snow was carrying and his temper was wearing thin. Impulsively, he reached out for her hand and placed the back of it against his stomach, against the spot where its inhabitant was currently moving about—not strongly discernible kicks, not from the outside, but definitely noticeable, especially (hopefully) to someone who had been through this before.

Emma’s eyes grew wide in shocked recognition and she snatched her hand back. “Holy shit; you’re pregnant.”

“Aye; and if you don’t mind, I’d like to wash my mouth out with something other than rum.” And without another word, stepped around Emma to join the rest of the group.

Emma only paused a moment before rushing to catch back up to him. “But...how?” she stammered.

“Well, when a man and woman love each other—”

“I know that,” she cut off. “But like...is that a normal thing in the Enchanted Forest?” She cast a worrying look in the direction of her father.

And as quick as the anger had come, it was replaced with sympathy just as fast; he couldn’t fault Emma’s confusion, when it evidently was an impossibility in her realm. ��Not necessarily; it’s rare—only runs in certain families—but it does happen. Obviously.”

He hoped that might be the end of it, not quite wanting that revelation to drop on any unsuspecting ears just yet, but Emma had more questions. And honestly, it felt nice to talk to someone about it, however briefly, and equally nice to have someone take an interest.

“How far along are you?” she continued.

“About sixteen weeks, the doctor says.”

“Does anyone else know?”

“Just Regina.”

“Is she the...mother, or whatever?”

“Heavens no.” Though he could see why she’d think that.

She grew silent for a bit. “You should have told me,” she finally scolded.

“I know,” he agreed.

“I can’t afford to be worried about you, too.”

That honestly took him aback; it had been centuries since anyone had any concern for him. “I’m flattered, love, but you don’t have to; I can take care of myself,” he assured her. Her focus needed to be on Henry—not his sorry arse.

She was about to say something, but David’s voice interrupted. “Up here! We made it!”

They jogged ahead to join the rest of the group at the ridge, which gave an unparalleled view of the island, specifically the Dark Jungle—or at least, it had; it appeared to have grown over quite a bit in Killian’s absence. They heeded his warning on going through it, at least, and agreed to his recommendation to make camp with only minor protest.

He thought sleep would claim him quickly—while he wasn’t as fatigued as he had been weeks ago, he still found himself needing more than in the past; given the excitement of the last day, he knew he needed it. But the island wasn’t quite ready to let him.

The crying—how had he forgotten it?

The sound of the Lost One’s wails echoed in his skull, and if he wasn’t careful, his own would likely join them; it certainly had in the past. Regardless of the number of decades that had passed since his father deserted him and his brother, the cries never failed to bring up the feelings of hurt and abandonment that lay buried within.

But now it wasn’t just for him—gods, what if that happened to his child? For not the first time (and likely not the last), he worried that one or more of his enemies, or even just his penchant for ending up in life-threatening situations, would leave his child parentless.

He rolled from his back to his side, away from the others, and curled in on himself, hoping the fetal position—and feeling of fetal movements under his palm—might calm his thoughts and mind, but it was to no avail. He squeezed his eyes shut in concentration, but all that did was force out the tears that had been brimming at them. It had been many years since he’d silently cried, but as a lad, it had been a lifesaving skill; thank goodness he still remembered how.

Gods, how was no one else reacting to this? Even with the echoing sobs in the foliage, he could still hear the prince’s snores, and the general silence told him everyone else was equally still.

He let his crying jag run its course; he’d need the waterskin again soon, but hopefully he would at least cry himself to sleep. Alas, he did not, and the rhythmic sounds of the others in the camp did nothing to lull him, either.

Sighing, he returned to his back, hoping the stars might give some comfort—but they were invisible through the foliage. He quietly sighed again and let his head fall to the other side, glancing at the rest of the camp. The first thing he saw was a blanket lying in a heap and Emma’s jacket—but no Emma.

He sat bolt upright. He had no doubts she heard the voices, too. He’d known her for a lost girl from the moment he’d locked eyes with her. But why the bloody hell had she gone off alone?

His jacket was on and he was ready to search for her when she returned on her own, a blank sheet of parchment in hand that he could immediately tell was anything but harmless.

It was Pan; of course it was. A shiver went down his spine at the thought of the demon child being close and he not being aware of it.

After rousing the others, she explained: the map would lead them to Henry, but first, she had to stop denying who she really was. Regina scoffed at the idea and questioned its validity, but he set her straight: Pan loved his games, and this is just another they had to play.

(Surprisingly, he had the Charmings on his side. “I’m winning you over; I can feel it,” he teased David; he took the responding roll of eyes as progress.)

Of course, Emma coming to terms with her identity was much easier said than done. It took a certain kind of confidence—and many years—for most people to fully own their selves; for Killian, it had taken a handful of decades to achieve that kind of self-awareness. That was time they didn’t have for Emma.

In her typical impatience, Regina decided a quicker plan: use a tracking spell on the parchment itself to lead to Pan. Again, he found himself in agreement with the Charmings, that using magic was a risk. But Her Majesty wouldn’t hear it, and off they went into the jungle…

...Right into an ambush. He should have known that would happen; alas, the only warning he could give was of the danger hidden in the Lost Boys’ poisoned arrow tips. He said a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that he and his child would manage to avoid that fate; and, to his surprise, a warm wash of magic ran over him—shielding him, it felt like. He caught Regina’s eye from across their circle and she nodded at him. Well, at least she’d done that.

They somehow made it through the altercation relatively unscathed, though David seemed to have had a too-close encounter with an arrow, and Killian really did not want to deal with Felix ever again. Pan repeated his smug instructions to Emma, and then their foes retreated...leaving them no closer to finding Henry.

He took small comfort in the gentle movements he felt within while he subtly rested his hand on his belt on their trek back to camp. They may not have come out ahead, but at least they weren’t behind (he hoped).

He and Regina hung back at the campsite while Emma and her parents continued at the map. His adrenaline from the fight was starting to fade and his interrupted sleep was calling for him—but at the same time, he was too spooked to sleep. Regina’s pacing seemed to suggest the same thing.

“Thank you for the protection,” he said quietly; his voice seemed to startle her from her thoughts, but she recovered quickly.

“No problem. I wasn’t about to risk anything happening to...you know.”

“I appreciate it. But I’d also rather we not find ourselves in that sort of situation again.”

She nodded. “I know; I was hasty. I just...I hate not knowing where he is.”

He stepped closer. “I know I’m not as familiar with your boy, but we’ve all got our motivations to get him back. You need to trust the rest of us.”

She scoffed. “Afraid I’ve never been much of a team player.”

“Well you best figure out how, because not only does your son’s life depend on it, but all of ours—including my child’s, as well.” He turned and stalked away, letting Regina brood while he did much the same.

The sooner they worked together, the sooner they saved the lad and got out of this bloody realm, and his child would be safe again.

It seemed like the Charmings were having a moment, so he stepped aside briefly to deal with another stirring of nausea, then rinsed his mouth out with rum after. He was rather annoyed that he’d likely be dealing with that for the duration of their stay here; all the more reason to find any way to hasten it.

He’d barely returned to the clearing and pocketed his flask when Emma was running towards him. “The map is working! We know where Henry is,” she practically shouted, shoving it in his face.

Sure enough, a map of the island had appeared on the parchment—a deceptively simple one.

Emma stood at his side as he studied it, and Regina was quick to jump on the other. “Where?”

It took him aback, for a moment, that they were both willing to listen to him. “Uh...We're here at the southern tip of the isle, in the middle of the Dark Jungle,” he explained, gesturing with his hook, “and Pan's camp lies due north.” A bright red X marked the spot; but it didn’t detail the dangers that lay between here and there.

“That's where he's keeping Henry,” Emma stated matter-of-factly.

Regina clearly hadn’t taken his previous lecture to heart. “What are we waiting for?”

“Well, the terrain’s not easy,” he warned. “There will undoubtedly be some nasty impediments along the way.” He shot her an annoyed look.

“We should prepare,” David stepped in. “We only made it out of our last encounter because Pan let us. We need a new plan.”

“Agreed. It's time we stop playing his game and he starts playing ours,” Emma concurred.

Regina bristled. “And if I disagree?”

Emma wasn’t having it. “Go ahead, but I think you know our best chance is together.” Again, Killian sent a knowing look in Regina’s direction.

She swallowed bitterly. “You better be right.”

Everyone dispersed to either sulk or plan, but Emma lingered in his space. He hadn’t missed her reddened eyes, or the general sense of emotional exhaustion.

“Excellent show of patience, luv,” he encouraged her. “And that's what defeats a nasty little boy.”

“I hope so,” she confessed. He wished he knew of a better way to comfort her, but he was still on the outside looking in when it came to her walls, and had little more than a crack to peer through. That said, he knew where he usually turned in moments like that, and pulled his flask back out. She rolled her eyes as he did. “Is rum your solution to everything? You shouldn’t even be drinking that.”

“It certainly doesn't hurt. And it’s not for me; it’s for you.” She eyed it briefly in his extended hand, then took it from him and drank a very long swig. It seemed to help; she relaxed a bit—as much as she could, given the situation. Which was good, because his curiosity got the best of him and pregnancy brain meant he had little to no filter. “So just how did you unlock the map?” he asked.

“I did what Pan asked,” she shrugged.

“And just who are you, Swan?”

She smirked and handed the flask back. “Wouldn't you like to know?”

“Perhaps I would,” he confessed solemnly. She’d clearly been expecting flirtation and not blunt honesty, if the way she was taken aback was any indication.

But it was quickly followed by a small smile. “Ask me that again when we get home and I might have an answer for you.”

She then wandered back to her parents, leaving him in an almost stunned silence. The fact that she hadn’t shot him down was not something he had prepared for—but he was far from complaining.

Logically, he knew there were far more important matters at hand than flirting with his crush. But who said he couldn’t do both? (Especially if she was going to be receptive to the idea?)

Intense fluttering started behind his navel again; he rested his palm against it while he was still out of everyone’s sight. “All the more reason for us to fight to get home, eh, little one?” he murmured.

They still had a fight ahead—gods only knew what they’d face—but for the first time, he was feeling optimistic.

(And hopefully, it wasn’t just the hormones talking.

(Emma, meanwhile, was starting to plan and prep with her parents, but was running over that conversation in her mind. He’d been genuine with her—as much as when he confessed his condition to her earlier. Despite his past proclamations, he really knew her about as well as she knew him: not as much as she’d like. That realization was throwing her for a loop; she was in the middle of a cursed jungle trying to rescue her son—why in the hell was she flirting with a pirate? A pregnant one at that?

And why didn’t she regret it one bit?)

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

thanks for reading! tagging @cocohook38 @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump (let me know if you want a tag!)

#cs ff #killian jones ff #mpreg #hidden blessing #My ff

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idreamofplaid · 4 years

Text

Amazed by You

Summary: The reader’s relationship with Dean is growing. That requires being real and accepting the gift of what happens next.

Characters: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1591

A/N: This is a request for @kaylielovespandas. I picture this as early season Dean. I wanted to capture the scramble of emotions that two people have who are in a new situation for both of them with the backdrop of the reader’s emotions that she deals with as part of her monthly cycle. It’s supposed to be young, exciting, confused, and hopeful. I don’t know that I succeeded in that. I’m reposting it from this morning because I messed something up, and there’s an issue with the keep reading tab not working. Not beta read. Mistakes are mine.

Reader’s POV

The first time it was easy. Your relationship was new then; you hadn’t started sharing motel rooms and the beds in them yet. Dean was close to you in one way or another most of the time now, whether it was interviewing a witness decked out in FBI suits or sharing burgers in Baby’s front seat, and you loved it. That is until now. Now it presented a problem.

Logically, you knew you couldn’t stay perfect in his eyes. That was the nature of a relationship. You learned each other’s flaws and faults over time, and those things became part of the tapestry of the person who still not only held your interest but had your feelings flying in the direction of something bigger. For instance, Dean was a complete smart ass. It was sexy. It was cute. It was downright exasperating when you wished he’d just share his feelings for once instead of glossing them over.

This thing you were trying to hide was nothing that could even be considered a flaw, just the opposite actually. It was something women did. It was natural. So why were you freaking out so much about it now? You didn’t want to send Dean running for the hills; that’s why, and your sarcasm could make Dean’s seem tame in comparison with its bite. That was just one mood.

Others included non-stop tears and withdrawing into a safe little cocoon away from the world. When your hormones dictated, you might cry about anything from the puppy in a dog food commercial because he was hungry to the sight of the sunshine just because it was so pretty. Then there were the times you just wanted to curl up in a tiny little ball and pull a blanket around you.

You didn’t want Dean to think you were some kind of emotional mess. He grew up with his brother and an absent father. There had clearly been a notable absence f estrogen around him. Even the other hunters he mentioned knowing as a kid were all male. Later, his one night stands were just that. They didn’t last long enough for a monthly cycle to enter the picture. Girls who picked up guys i bars, or allowed themselves to be picked up, weren’t generally on their period.

The fear that was consuming your irrational mind right now was that you would snap at him over something trivial; you would end up in an argument, and Dean would leave you for the much less complicated bar conquests. You eyes filled with tears at the thought of losing Dean, and the idea of him being with someone else had them spilling down your cheeks. You were swiping at them when Dean turned the lock with his key and walked into you motel room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean’s POV

The first thing I saw was you on the bed, and sweatpants never looked so damn good. I could see the curve of your hip. Don’t stare, Dean. Don’t stare. Right. the food. “I got pizza. No onions, no sausage. Just the way you li...” What the hell? Why didn’t I notice you were crying?

I toss the pizza box in the direction of the table by the window and get to you as fast as I can “What is it, Y/N? What happened?” Your arms are around me as soon as I sit down, and m neck is getting wet where you’ve hidden your face in it. Oh, God. Did somebody get to you? Did I let something hurt you? My hand goes for the back of your head. I want you to feel safe. Make her safe. “It’s okay, Y/N. I’m here now.”

After awhile, the crying stops. You sit up, but you’re not looking at me. I take your hand. I’m scared out of my mind. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” My eyes are scanning over you looking for an injury. I can’t see any blood.

Your hand squeezes mine a little. “I”m okay.” When you look at me, I can’t read your expression. You seem unsure about something, but your voice is more certain. “Let’s eat.”

I search your face again for any sign that something’s wrong. You’re making our way to the table and the pizza. I think about it for a minute then ask, “Y/N, what was that?”

By this time, you’re taking your first bite of the almost loaded pizza. You swallow and smile it off. “It was nothing. I was watching a movie on TV, and it made me sad.” A movie? Okaaay. I don’t have to feel so bad about staring at your boobs. And I can’t help but sneak a glance at them every chance I get while you eat.

I watch you eat half the pizza, matching me slice for slice. By the time the last crumb is gone, I’m wondering if you’re hungry for anything besides the pizza and hoping you are. I stop while I”m clearing the table. This is as close to good as my life’s ever been. I drop everything in the trash and come back to where you’re sitting. I lean down and kiss you. Your lips are soft, and you want my kiss. I can feel it. I’m smiling before I pull my lips from ours. Your eyes are gorgeous. Could you be any more beautiful? “I’m gonna grab a shower. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

I’m smiling even bigger when I climb into bed next to you. You snuggle right up against me, and I take you into my arms. Your lips find mine. I like where this kiss is going. While my tongue is twisting around yours, I move my hand from your back around your side to your stomach then start to slide it under your waistband. “Dean, stop. Don’t do that.” Your body is tense when you pull away from me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reader’s POV

You want to suck the words right back in and swallow them down as soon as you’ve said them. Dean’s chewing at is full bottom lip, and his eyes are the kind of green that makes it hard to think, but his words snatch you right back to the reality his handsome face made you forget for a second. “ Did I do something wrong?”

You shake your head even more upset with yourself now. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Are you sure? You can tell me.” He’s so sincere. Anyone who doesn’t see the soft side of Dean Winchester isn’t looking. “ I won’t...Whatever it is, I won’t do it again.”

You scoot up and sit with your back against the headboard. Dean is still propped on his elbow. He looks up at you when you start to talk. “It isn’t you. I...didn’t want you to know.” There’s a long pause, and Dean doesn’t say anything. He’s still listening. “ I have my period.’ This whole time you haven’t been able to look at him like you were making some shameful confession, but when he lays back with his head on the pillow and blows out a breath; you do.

He’s quick to sit up next to you. “is that all?” You might be offended at that if he didn’t look so genuinely relieved. “What do you need? Just tell me. I’ll do it. I can get you snacks, or more pillow, or...”

Dean was babbling, and it was adorable. He didn’t have the first clue what to do. Not really. He was trying, but he didn’t know. Looking back on it later, you would know that was the moment you fell in love with him; but you didn’t now that now. You only knew that he was making you feel warm inside and cared for.

That made you brave enough to open up a little. “Will you just hold me? I know you wanted more, but it feels like my insides are falling out right now.”

A gentle smile spread across his face. “Yeah. I can do that.” You turned over and snuggled into Dean until your back was pressed against his body, and his arm was draped over your waist. You took his hand and guided it into your sweatpants stopping when his whole hand was below your belly button. His huge palm almost covered the entire lower part of your stomach. You left your hand over his holding it in place and because there was something very reassuring about it.

“Is this okay?” You asked him in a whisper.

Dean’s voice was just as quiet, and the tone of it was soothing. “Is it okay for you?”

“Mmm, hmmm. Your hand is warm. That feels good. It helps.”

“Okay. then yeah; I can do this.” You felt Dean’s nose brush your cheek before he nuzzled it into your hair and breathed in deeply. “You smell good.”

That made you smile. “Just for you.”

Dean kissed the spot where your cheek met your neck. “That’s my girl.”

“Dean, can you really sleep like this?”

He kissed down the edge of your face toward your chin. “Do you mean can I sleep with a beautiful woman in my arms that’s made me want to hold only her? Of course I can do that.”

He was good at it too. Maybe it wasn’t killing monsters or shooting pool, but Dean excelled in making you feel better. In fact, he might just be better at this that those other things. And as it turned out, you’d have the rest of your life to find out just how good he could be.

Tag lists are open. Feedback is golden motivation! Every like, comment, and Reblog is appreciated!

Forevers: @bitterstar88 @coffee-obsessed-writer @timelordy-fangirl2 @stusbunker @girl-next-door-writes @mariekoukie6661 @sandlee44 @cosicas-cuquis @ohnowin-chester @waywardbaby @oldfreakything @dean-winchesters-bacon @akhuna01 @tumbler-tidbits @maddiepants @evansrogerskitten @ackleholicwinchester @sorenmarie87 @ladywinchester1967 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @sea040561 @atc74 @mrs-meghan-winchester @shaniquacynthia @brinkofinsanity77645 @defenderrosetyler @emoryhemsworth @outcastedangel @67-chevy-baby @neii3n

Dean/Jensen fics: @akshi8278 @adoptdontshoppets @karikatz12481

Dean Lovers: @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @deanwinchesterswitch @myinconnelly1 @destielhoneybee @1000roughdrafts @clarinette07 @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @da5haexowin @savemecastiel @logical-princey @wingedcatninja @cap-just-said-language @focusonspn @sgarrett49 @fandom-princess-forevermore @team-free-will-you-idjiot @deanwanddamons

#dean fluff #dean x reader #fic request #dean fic #reader insert

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs “Stress”

I thought about this idea during finals week for obvious reasons. As for some of the other stuff, I am still trying to figure out what I want to do. My motivation likes to come and go at odd moments, so the longer, more complicated stuff that requires research is eluding me at the moment, but I hope you all like it :)

Humanity was crafted in the fire of adversity. On a planet where everything is stronger, faster, and more dangerous than them, they still manage reign supreme. Looking back at their history, the human came down from the trees and developed primarily on hot, hostile prairies of Africa relying on their small bands of family to keep them safe.

Due to the hostile nature of their planet the human has one of the most remarkable and advanced reactions to stress in the sympathetic response of their body, known as the fight or flight system. In response to say, sight of a predator, the human brain immediately releases stress hormones into the blood activating adrenaline and cortisol production. In states like these humans, run faster, jump higher, react quicker, feel less pain, increase their strength, and recognize more frames per second (described by humans as the world slowing down). Additionally the sympathetic response shuts down all parasympathetic actions, which include digestion, growth, ovulation, sex drive, hunger, and other additional functions.

However, this remarkable stress system, which the humans are renowned for, has one horrible downside….. The human body cannot tell the difference between the stress of a predator attack or the stress of a long-term work environment. The human body reacts to deadlines the same way it evolved to react to the chase on the prairies thousands of years ago. Chronic stress is one of the largest dangers posed to your human companions, and should be taken seriously. Long term effects of stress can results in depressed immune systems, sickness, skin problems, high blood pressure, cardiovascular issues, digestive issues, sexual dysfunction, depression, anxiety etc.

Chronic stress is a human’s worst enemy.

***

“I swear by all nine circles of Dante’s hell that if the assembly refuses to hear me out than we are going to have galaxy wide rioting on our hands, and you know who is going to have to deal with it. Me, yeah that’s right, me, just like every other riot, protest, demonstration and sit-in this side of the sector. Just let them be together if they really want, just get them immunized first, Damn!” Commander Vir marched onto the bridge angrily pulling on his jacket and throwing himself down in the Captain’s chair, “Four hours of sleep last night, four, and I have to tell you I am sick and tired of this shit. LIEUTENANT!”

“Yes, Sir.” She asked hesitantly

“What do we have TODAY? What could have possible gone wrong on this fine morning?” The man snarled sarcastically. Krill glanced at Sunny with a worried expression. This was hardly behavior they had come to expect from their friend.

“Well sir, paperwork, as usual, and then you have a conference with the GA at 9, and a report due to the Fleet Admiral at 10. Captain Kamma and Captain Roll need your opinion on dealing with a Finneri dispute over airspace in the Alpha sector, plus the ship is due for routine maintenance, but there is still a little matter about that Vrul scientist that the GA wants transported back to HQ. If you have the reports, I can send them in now…..” She trailed off.

Commander Vir took a deep breath and rested his forehead against one hand messaging his temples, “I haven’t finished the reports yet, I haven’t had enough time to finish the reports, I was doing more important things than finishing the reports like…. Oh, I don’t know trying to put down riots and prevent luting. I think humanity’s public image is more important than some stupid piece of paper. Kind of hard to get anything done when you are trying to keep the entirety of the GA to stop seeing humans as violent militants.”

“Sir, I can-“

“No, I will have the stupid reports done, just give me an hour.” He stood from his chair, “Walk with me.” The supporting crew barely had time to leap from their seats and follow after the man as he marched out of the room. Usually silent, the prosthetic on his leg whirred with excess power as if aware of the man’s agitation. Sunny followed behind the only one able to keep up without jogging. She held Krill by the hand as he floated behind her. Commander Vir answered rapid fire questions left and right as he marched on down the hall. A marine appeared form one of the side halls.

“Captain,”

“Make it quick, Corporal.” The man fell into a jogging step beside him.

“Uh, yes Commander, there seems to be a problem.” A single green eye turned upon the man and narrowed. The entire crew stiffened a little. Krill hid behind Sunny’s bulk. The entire crew had been on edge for weeks now. All of them begged to whatever deity out there that things would get better for their Commander. The crew, once so laid back, and relaxing now found themselves in an enviornment of stress like a rubber band close to sapping, all caused by a triangular ripple effect coming down from on high. When the Commander wasn’t happy, no one was.

Generally, goofy, friendly, social, and fun, the man had slowly grown, irritable, reclusive, and tense as sarcasm and jokes began to fly right over his head….. Accept for the biter angry kind.

“What NOW.”

“Well, sir, the last armament shipment….. well they got our order wrong. We got only two cases of .223.” The man had to speed up a little to keep up

“Two cases! The F*ck are we supposed to do with that. We needed two Pallets not two cases.”

“Yes sir, I know but-“

“Ahg never mind, I’ll call in to the supply department later.” He coughed once or twice, wiping his mouth before pushing past the marine and into the chow hall marching up to the coffee maker and angrily shoving mug under the nozzle. Another glance was exchanged between Sunny and Krill, the man didn’t drink coffee at least he hadn’t until about a week ago. All around, the breakfast crowd looked up from their meals nervously fiddling with their forks and spoons as they watched.

Cup filled up, the man turned in a circle.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Could it have been the unusual power of the prosthetic, the fact that he turned in the direction of his missing eye, or could it have just been coincidence that his leg knocked against the counter sending a wave of hot liquid over his arm and onto the floor as the cup dropped from his hands. The entire room went silent, which only made the shattering of the glass louder followed by the string of abusive, vulgar curses spilling form the man’s mouth that much more poignant. Sure, he wasn’t opposed to cursing, but THAT was excessive.

He waved his arm hissing in pain. Before growing silent, horribly silent. The entire room was still hands raised halfway to their mouths food dripping form forks. He stood very still shoulders hunched hands clenched into half claws. From their position, Krill and sunny watched as the man’s slow, even breathing began to speed up, blood rushed up to his face, a vein pulsed in his neck.

The expression that came over the human’s face was one of pure animal rage completely out of place in such a setting. Humans and Drev alike ducked for cover, especially telling when it came to the humans, as the man spun in a circle and violently ripped the machine from the wall and throwing it to the floor. Glass and plastic shattered, but that didn’t seem to be enough. The advanced military prosthetic, sensing his anger, whirred to life powerful hydraulics and pistons crackling to life as he engaged the foot. Metal screeched and screamed as it was crushed. Crewmembers cowered further under their tables as the wreckage was kicked violently into the air. The power of the prosthetic sent it halfway across the room where it smashed into the ground shattering whatever piece of equipment was left.

Then slowly they looked up watching as the man spun in an agitated circle, paced to the right, then to the left before screaming through his teeth and running out of the room leaving a scene of carnage behind him.

***

Krill and Sunny found him three hours later forced to explain to the admiral and the GA of the commander’s absence.

They found him in a service tunnel running the side of the engine room sitting in the red emergency lights on the floor with his legs curled to his chest, and his arms about his dog’s neck. The animal had her head resting on his shoulder tail tucked between her legs as if she knew something was terribly wrong.

Sunny had trouble squirming through the close opening, but eventually hauled her bulk into the small space, “Adam?”

The man didn’t look up but a desperate chuckle broke from his lips cracked and breathless, “Great, just what I needed, for you guys to see me like this…… what did the admiral say? Am I fired?”

Krill scuttled around the side of Sunny squeezing himself past her bulk with a huff, “Commander, why would they fire you. Preposterous, that doesn’t make any sense.”

Sunny managed to make it to her knees and then into a low crouch, “Vir, the Admiral actually said that…. Now maybe you’ll understand because I didn’t and I quote, ‘I’m impressed the boy managed to make it this long, my first breakdown was two weeks after I started, and I nearly ran my car into a tree.”

The dog whimpered as the man lifted his head, throwing it back with a shaky breath, “You don’t have to try and make me feel better Sunny. The damage is done, I messed up, and I lost in in front of the crew like a child, and I can’t help but think about how much of a jackass I’ve been for the last few weeks. I’m garbage at this, I should never have taken the job.”

Krill huffed scuttling down the short hallway and over to the man, “Oh what is it you humans say…… pity party is over. Man up and talk to us, you are being horribly illogical, and that is something I cannot abide. Start from the beginning and tell us what’s wrong so we can fix it. You ARE the commander of this ship and you deserve to be here, so might as well fix the problem while we can.”

Fifteen minute later, Krill had ushered them out of the engine room and back to his infirmary where the Commander now hunched on the edge of one of the beds elbows resting on his knees as he stared down at the floor. Krill bustled around him like krill always did examining his burned arm, if there was a problem, he fixed it. That’s just the way he was, Sunny listened.

He rubbed the sides of his head again, “I’ve just been so….. Stressed, I have so much to do, and I don’t have enough time, everyone is counting on me, and now with the riots…. I just….. my body is falling apart, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat because when I do I get nauseous, my head hurts all the time, I’ve bene sick for like…. I don’t know, a month. Feels like my heart never slows down, and someone has their hand around my chest just…. Squeezing. Plus.” He lifted up his shirt exposing his pale stomach, and the livid red bumps across his stomach raised and strangely discolored, “I broke out in hives yesterday, haven’t done that since I was a kid.”

Krill paused shooting the man a glower, hands resting on his hip equivalent, “And you never thought to, oh I don’t know talk to a DOCTOR because you don’t have one of those just conveniently lying around.”

Vir rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh, “I…. its stress related Krill, there’s nothing you can do medically for me.” Sunny had moved at this point slowly walking over towards her two friends, and before Krill or Vir could say anything, she pulled the man into her arms, all four of them, and hugged him lifting him completely and easily off the ground. He went quiet in surprise and Krill looked up at her in annoyance.

“Hugs are good for humans. Supposed to relieve stress…. I think.” Sunny said. She thought for a moment he would pull away, but after a few seconds he sagged against her read resting against her chest. Krill relented with a sigh and stepped back.

A muffled voice, “What am I supposed to do Sunny?”

Krill tapped one of his feet on the floor, “The way I see it, Commander, there is only one logical course of action.”

***

The crew watched from where they sat or stood around the chow hall, on or around the tables as the man, their Commander, awkwardly shuffled his feet and stared down at the floor, “I…. have to apologize to…. To all of you for my….. Deplorable behavior lately. “He took a deep breath and looked up with clear difficulty, “The way I have been acting is very unprofessional, and the outbursts are just as bad. I know there are no excuses for what I have done, and I take responsibility but I have been under a lot of stress lately, and I am still learning how to deal with it.”

Some members of the crowd nodded along with him, some frowned, but the vast majority gave encouraging smiles. “That’s alright, Commander, we understand.” Someone said from the back followed by a chorus of agreement.

One of the marines stood up, “We forgive you, Commander, and I have one word for you….” He turned to the room and waved his hand in a wide arc over his head, “Delegation.”

“Delegation?” The man questioned

“Yeah.” The marine said, “Like since you’re a boss you can make everyone else do the work for you.”

The commander shook his head, “I no… I couldn’t”

Just then the lieutenant took to her feet, “Just hear him out, sir. He’s right, you’ve been trying to do everything yourself, and it isn’t healthy. There are plenty of things you can outsource. I mean some of the other captains have specialties in certain areas, and you could put them in charge. And here, on the crew, you could appoint someone as the head of a sector, and just have them report in. They can deal with the little stuff and you can do the big stuff. For instance, I’m great at writing, I was an English major before joining the army, so I can write the reports….. and no offence, but you suck ass at writing… sir.”

The crew broke out into laughter, Vir grinned sheepishly, “Alright, maybe you have a point.”

Other members of the crew agreed, “You’re forgetting we’ve had almost as much contact with E.Ts as you, sir. We can deal with some of the little stuff, so you don’t have to worry.”

The commander took a seat on one of the tables facing the crowd, “I just don’t want it to seem like I’m pawning all my work off on others.”

Another crewmember waved the comment off, “Give us some credit, we know you better than that. Besides everyone deserves a little downtime.”

“Yeah a little stress relief is good. Man you need to get some kind of hobby.” The marine who spoke leaned over towards his companion and quietly…. But not to quietly whispered, “Either that, or get laid.”

The comment hadn’t been quiet enough, and a row of marines broke into fits of giggling. Vir flushed bright red trying to ignore the comment, “Alright, first thing’s first, we need to have a meeting, decide how to divide things up. I’m thinking the marines, the bridge crew a -“ A glare from Krill silenced him, “Of course…. We can talk about that tomorrow….. you…. Are all dismissed.”

The crew shifted to their feet. A few of the marines walked past still laughing causing the blush to flare up again. The marine that had spoken shoved him lightly, “You’re such a boy scout, you know that right?” Vir grumbled as he moved past. The marine turned to walk backwards down the hallway, “Come on man, just saying great stress relief. Woman, dude…… alien if you’re into that.”

Vir raised his hands, “Ok, ok, stop, I get it.” More laughter as the marines walked away. He sighed, but was immediately accosted from behind. The floor fell out from under him, and suddenly his only view was blue armor, “F***, Sunny what the hell.”

She shifted him into a more comfortable position over her shoulder, “This is a hostage situation. You will not be released till you get at least eight hours of sleep, there are no other options.”

Vir sighed, “Guess I don’t have much say.”

“Nope.”

Stress is a human’s worst enemy, and it is our job to make sure our humans stay healthy.

#humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are weird #Earth is space Ausralia #earth is a deathworld

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tardistimes · 4 years

Text

Change: Chapter One

Summary: In the aftermath of X-Men: First Class, Moira MacTaggert struggles to regain her memories but perhaps with the help of Nick Fury she may come closer to discovering the truth.

Fandoms: X-Men (Prequels), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel (Comics), Agent Carter

Word Count: 2,200

At first, Moira found the conclusions her partner and supervisors had made impossible to believe. That a man could somehow make her forget months of her life, by using superpowers. It sounded... well, it sounded ridiculous.

Then Levene showed her the tapes. They confirmed the few facts her supervisors did know about her missing months – that she had joined some kind of secret task force, that she had worked alongside people with incredible and unbelievable gifts. Levene described the meeting where Charles Xavier had read minds and Raven Darkhölme had transformed into Agent Stryker. Then he showed her security footage of the hallway outside the meeting room. Where Levene froze at the water fountain as Moira looked around, apparently talking to herself.

“Afterwards you told me that he contacted you,” Levene explained. “That somehow you communicated telepathically.”

The second tape showed the parking lot where Moira had driven to fetch the mutants and the Agent Stryker, the mystery agent her supervisors refused to talk about.

“I lost you after that. You told me you had to do something important and that, while you were gone, I should try and keep McCone off your back.” He continued, a touch of reprimand to his voice that he didn’t really mean. Levene was used to Moira running off on her own and leaving him to run crowd control. It worked well that way and Levene knew it. He was good with people, good at smoothing down riled up supervisors and reassuring concerned citizens. Moira was good at jumping into dangerous situations feet first and wangling her way out of them.

“And you didn’t see me until last week?”

“No, I did see you one other time. We went on a mission to Russia.”

“I went to Russia?” Moira blinked, stomach churning as the entire situation became even more unsettling. To forget a few conversations was one thing, but to forget weeks of her life and covert operations abroad was another. The sense of violation deepened as it finally sunk in that this had really happened to her.

Levene explained that the task force had picked up a new recruit by this point, someone called Erik Lehnsherr who could apparently control metallic substances. “I didn’t really see his powers in action though. Xavier managed to make our team invisible somehow. He said it was an illusion he made them believe so we could get through the check points.”

“And I didn’t tell you what had happened when we met up?”

“You gave me a rundown, but nothing more than I’ve already been able to tell you. That you got involved in recruiting mutants and hunting down a guy who was trying to kill humans. Then you disappeared again and I didn’t hear anything more about the task force until the Cuba incident.”

Moira hummed, pressing her cold fingers to her lips. “McCone debriefed me about that. As much as he could anyway.” He’d disapprovingly told her how she had stood on a beach, in the middle of two warring nations, defending the mutants only to be nearly killed by one for her troubles. When they’d had that conversation she still had the marks around her neck from where Lehnsherr tried to strangle her.

The agency continued to ask her questions about what happened on that beach, regardless of the well-known fact that she couldn’t remember any of it. It seemed inconceivable to anyone, Moira included, that this could actually happen.

“Well, you have all the information that I do on that. I didn’t see you again until you called me over to your apartment a few days later.”

Moira kept pressing Levene for more details over the coming weeks and months, but he could never find anything new to tell her. She kept trying though, telling him it was so she could try to understand more about her thoughts and actions during those missing months, to piece together the case so they could work out if the threat still existed. What she was really waiting for was something, anything, that would trigger a memory and help her remember. Some insignificant phrase or word which would bring everything back. Something more than flashes of light and that godforsaken kiss.

The kiss disturbed her more than she cared to admit. And not just because her bosses had immediately jumped on one of her few remaining impressions of those missing months as a way to further undermine her. Her memories from the Hellfire Club were still there. She knew that mutants existed and she knew that Xavier was apparently the foremost expert on them. That was why, according to her application for travel, she had flown to Oxford to meet with him.

The extent of his powers, demonstrated to her through the tapes and Levene’s descriptions, painted a portrait of a very powerful being. One who had no problem altering people’s perceptions, communicating telepathically, wiping months of memories away – and he certainly had no reservations about using that ability. She remembered the emotion behind the kiss and knew how deeply she had cared for him. How badly had her judgement been impaired that she had fallen for someone who apparently had no qualms about invading her mind, the one part of her that should be hers alone? Had her feelings even been genuine? Did she have free will during that time?

When she was alone she questioned everything. Her motives, the people she had sided with, her instincts, her thoughts.

At work she needed to keep her head high and walk the corridors confidently, otherwise she risked having her job pulled out from beneath her. Her superiors eventually accepted that she remembered very little of what had happened. The tests showed there was no brain damage and, coupled with their knowledge of Charles Xavier’s abilities, the conclusion was drawn that she would never remember. With that acceptance, however, Moira found that all of her hard work establishing a position for herself at the CIA appeared to have been undone. Even though she hadn’t exactly gotten people to like her before the incident, there had been a level of begrudging respect. She’d proven herself multiple times to be capable of more than secretarial work. But now wherever she went there were whispers. About the hormonal woman who had fallen in love with a mutant.

She was shunned by most of her colleagues, but then that wasn’t really new. Now, instead of listening to the run of the mill sexist jabs, she got a little variety by having her every decision questioned because her mind didn’t work properly. Because she was damaged. Levene stood by her like he had done since they’d first been partnered up, and he always jumped up to defend her.

Levene, who was now in the unique position of being one of the few people to meet Charles Xavier, still remember it and was alive to tell the tale.

With time Moira knew she could restore her credibility among the ranks, as long as she didn’t show any more weakness. And Levene’s long-winded speeches about her patriotism and bravery, which arose every time Moira got a snide comment by another agent, couldn’t hurt. Except, a month later they would still just laugh and say she was protecting freaks.

Time passed. Her paranoia settled but the CIA’s didn’t.

“I’ve decided to pull you and Levene off the case,” McCone said, slapping the file she had just delivered back onto the desk after a polite glance. They’d been investigating a man with potential communist affiliations for the past three weeks.

“But sir,” Moira started,” we’ve nearly closed it.”

“I think you would be better suited to a different assignment.”

“Sir…”

“Especially after what you went through. To be frank MacTaggert, we’ve been discussing it and we think it would be in your best interest to take a leave of absence.”

She tried to speak but he cut her off. “Just take a few months.”

He tried to interrupt her again when she opened her mouth but she spoke loudly over his attempts. “I’m perfectly capable of doing my job.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of Moira.” He said, using the same tone he reserved for the secretaries.

“I never said I was ashamed.”

“Of course not. But…” He paused and took a minute, leaning back in his chair and forming a temple with his fingers. “Given what you went through, we thought it would be appropriate for you to have some time off. To help you deal with your feelings.”

“I have no feelings about what happened, sir. I don’t remember it.”

“You never know. Some R&R might help you with your memory loss.” McCone said, trying to pretend that he was doing this for her benefit.

She took a deep breath. “Sir, don’t drop us off this case.”

“I’m sorry Moira, but I really think it’s for the best.”

She was costing Levene his career with this bullshit. Every time they got anything close to a half-decent case it would be snatched away from them before they could close it. And they always used the excuse that it was because she wasn’t in her right mind.

Levene never complained, he would grouch about McCone and the rest of the CIA for how they treated her. He wouldn’t complain about her or request a new partner. He liked working with Moira and Moira liked working with him. She liked being his friend and having dinner with him and his wife on the weekends. She liked having someone around that she could actually trust. Someone who didn’t think she was weak. But she couldn’t keep working like this. And she couldn’t allow Levene to be punished for his loyalty to her.

“I didn’t want to have to do this,” Moira said, shaking her head. “I’d hoped if I stuck it out things would improve, but I see now they never will. I am an excellent agent. And one day when you realise what an ass you are, you’re really going to regret this.”

McCone’s genial expression abruptly fell away with her words and the scowl she was more comfortable with reappeared. “Now look here MacTaggert...”

“You have left me no other choice. You can leave Levene on the case. I quit.”

Pulling her jacket back she removed her gun from its holster and pulled her badge from her belt. She set them both on his desk.

“Moira,” he said with a smile as she stood. “You don’t have to quit. I told you we’ll give you leave. Paid leave. And you can come back as soon as you feel ready. We’d have to ease you back in of course, maybe put you on desk duty for a little while…”

She shook her head. When she had been made an agent she had hoped things would finally get easier, that she wouldn’t have to work twice as hard as everyone else to get half as much respect. And yet, no matter how much she sacrificed, she knew now that she would never rise any higher in their esteems. It seemed futile to keep trying.

Not confident that she would be able to refrain from calling McCone worse than an ass if she continued to speak, Moira turned swiftly on her heel and walked out. McCone half-heartedly called after her, but she had no doubt her resignation would be met by more celebrations than regrets.

Making her way into the break room she collected her bag and purse, stopped by HR and then made her way straight to the parking garage. There was nothing important at her desk and she wouldn’t give the other guys the satisfaction of seeing her pack up her stuff.

Moira was going to be better than they ever would. She just didn’t know how yet.

She’d talk to Levene later, he’d gone home already but she wanted to call him before McCone did. He deserved to hear about her decision instead of getting a blunt notice from the agency saying he’d have a new partner by next Monday.

As she shoved her key into the lock of her car she found herself pausing for a moment, her anger ebbing away. Taking a deep breath, Moira tried not to panic as her unemployment suddenly dawned on her. She was more than qualified for plenty of jobs, and maybe this time she could find one without so much bullshit.

Yanking open the door she threw her bag onto the backseat. A voice stopped her before she could get in.

“Moira MacTaggert.”

Turning she spied a tall man, cloaked in the shadow of the stone pillar he leant against. Her eyes quickly spied four men evenly spread out around him, hands behind their backs in the picture of obedience.

“Yes?” She said hesitantly, wishing she hadn’t thrown her purse into the car so hastily. Her back-up weapon was in there.

Stepping forward so she could see him clearly, the man shot her a tight-lipped smile. “I’m sorry if I startled you. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Nick Fury.”

He paused, casually placing his hands in his pockets. “Tell me. What do you know about S.H.I.E.L.D?”

#moira mactaggert x charles xavier #moira x charles #x-men first class #marvel cinematic universe #agent carter #nick fury #s.h.i.e.l.d #formerly abandoned fic #editing old chapters #ideally finishing this

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bamby0304 · 6 years

Text

With Wolves- Ch.22

Series Masterlist

Bamby’s Masterlist

Summary: Known as The Omen, your reputation puts fear in some of the most dangerous and deadly Alphas. So when you’re caught and sent to the worst maximum security facility unknown to man, no one expected an unclaimed Omega to walk through the gates in shackles and an orange jumpsuit. Word circulates, and before long there’s a price on your head. Who will claim the untamed Omega?

A/N: I enjoyed writing this chapter despite it making me tear up, because I know it’s gonna hit y’all like a freight train :D thank you to @moonlitskinwalker and @crispychrissy for looking this over for me!! xx

Warnings: Explicit language. A/B/O dynamics. Angst. Mentions of what happened in chapters 20 and 21. So, mentions of medical stuff, the procedure, the assault, the fights. Yeah, guys… it’s angsty.

Bamby

Castiel set you down on your bed in your cell and took a step back, watching as you curled into yourself. You were still groggy from the drugs, your hormones all over the place. Whatever they’d been forcing into your system lately was making it hard for your body to discern how it was supposed to feel. It was almost as if you could feel another heat coming…

It seemed Sam’s claim wasn’t working how you’d all hoped.

“I need Dean and Sam,” you sniffled, refusing to meet Castiel’s gaze.

Eyes looking you up and down, he decided against that idea. “I can’t leave you alone. Not like this.”

“You did before,” you spat, shooting him a quick glare before letting your eyes fall back to the concrete floor.

“I did not leave you, Y/N.”

Scoffing, you forced yourself to turn until your back was to him, curling into the fetal position.

“It’s the truth. I did not leave you.”

“Right, so that Alpha just tripped over me.” You rolled your eyes, facing the wall.

“No, he was supposed to be there,” he finally admitted, which had you turning to glare at him. Before you could snap, though, he went on, “I asked him to send someone to help you. I got a call and needed to be somewhere.”

“What could be so important you risked sending someone to an Omega in he-”

“Claire.”

You mouth snapped shut and eyes went wide as you looked up at him. A cold flush of realisation hit you. Cas had always been reliable, he’d been a friend, but he was also an Alpha. In a moment of weakness you were attacked and he was the only one you could blame. So you took your rage out on him. You never once thought there might have been a reason for his absence.

Claire was his niece. His Omega Niece. Her parents had been killed by feral Alphas who could smell a young Omega. If it wasn’t for Castiel they would have taken her. Probably killed her. He stopped them and took her to a friend named Jody Mills, a sheriff who knew when and when not to look the other way.

Being the person he is, Cas wasn’t in the position to take care of his niece, so he left her with the sheriff. They stayed in contact. He sent money and presents, always made sure to get a photo on every first day of school each year. She was the last of his family and had been the topic of a lot of your conversations with the Alpha. She was the reason you’d befriended him.

“What happened?”

“I got a text message from Jody saying Claire had gone missing. It said she’s started dating an Alpha boy in her high school who took her out on a date and never brought her home.”

“So you went to go find her,” you filled in the blanks, knowing Cas would do anything for Claire.

He gave a short nod. “I tried calling you, tried to explain. I think it was too late.”

“Did… did you save her?” Your heart was racing at the thought of Claire, sweet little blonde pain-in-the-ass Claire, beaten and bloodied because she messed around with Alphas.

You’d been there, done that, and got the t-shirt, too. You were well aware of the dangers of Alphas, you’d lived and breathed them since you presented. But you never wanted someone like her, someone who didn’t have it in them, to become what you have, to go through that. She was the reason you did what you did. To protect and stand up for people who weren’t able to themselves. To be there when no one else was.

“It was a trap,” he answered flatly. “I’ve been here since.” He gestured around you.

Blood running cold, you sat up to lean on your elbows as you looked around. “You’ve been here that long?”

“Yes.”

“No one said anything. He didn’t say anything.”

“Why would he?”

At the mention of him, the him, your boss, you recalled your conversation with Sam and Dean in the Cage. You all needed to get out of here, but if you didn’t do your job then the world outside wouldn’t be any safer than what you were dealing with now.

“Cas…” After a pause you turned to meet his gaze. “Do you… do you know about the morning star?”

He back went straight as a shocked expression crossed his face. “Why are you asking me that?”

Watching him, reading his body language, you sighed, “You know why.”

“He’s why you’re here? I thought you were out. I thought you stopped. You never trusted him. Look at what he’s done to you. Look at what-”

Not wanting to hear it, you snapped, “Do you know about the fucking morning star or not, Cas?”

Snapping his jaw shot, he hesitated before answering, “Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“Lucifer. Your mark is Lucifer.”

There was a bittersweet feeling that came with the answer. While you wanted nothing more than to rip Lucifer a new hole after everything he’d done to you and your pack, you also knew the risks. He was Alpha and you were in no state to face someone like him. Then there was the added problem of the fact that he was now in the Pit. He could be down there for days, and during that time you could be put through any number of tortures or torments.

You needed to get out of here as soon as possible. You should have been out already, to be honest. But now you were going to have to wait… or go down there with him.

“I’ll help you,” Cas assured you suddenly.

Meeting his gaze once more, seeing nothing but certainty, you gave a short nod. “Good. Because I’m gonna need all the help I can get.”

The two of you stayed where you were for a few short uninterrupted seconds before the sound of running feet had both your heads snap in the direction of the cell entrance. You both waited and listened, hearing the approaching feet draw nearer and nearer.

Cas shifted, getting ready to attack while you just stayed there on the bed, not worth much in your weakened state.

When Sam grabbed the cell bars and threw himself around the corner towards you, everything came crashing back. The worried look on his face broke your heart as the feelings of what you’d been through since seeing him last flooded you.

Dean and Benny weren’t too far behind him, and you watched as they each looked from Cas to you before your Alphas reacted.

Sam and Dean grabbed at your arms and pulled you to your feet. They buried their faces in your neck and inhaled deeply as their bodies vibrated with concern and fresh relief. You held them, feeling tears flow from your eyes as you sniffled against Dean’s shoulder.

“We heard about the fight,” Sam started, pulling back so he could take in your state. “Lucifer…” he couldn’t say it, couldn’t utter the words that would cement what you’d been through.

Dean growled, his head still buried in your neck. “I’m gonna rip his throat out with my teeth.”

Reaching out with one hand to intertwine your fingers with Sam's, you lifted your free hand up to Dean’s head where you stroked his hair. “I’m… I’m okay. Cas saved me.”

Both brothers looked to your friend then, nodding their thanks. But when they turned back to you, you could still see a darkness in their eyes that didn’t settle well in your stomach.

“What?” you asked, looking from one to the other.

Dean’s eyes began to water. “The reason we know what happened, sweetheart… is ‘cause… Kevin...” his voice broke.

Benny cleared his throat, taking over, seeing as your Alphas couldn’t utter the words. “Some guards came and found us out in the yard,” he started, looking to the two pack Alphas before going on. “Kevin didn’t make it.”

It’s like a hammer hitting the thin glass of a stained window. The light and colour, the hope, it shattered. You literally stumbled as a feeling similar to a punch to your chest overcame you. Your blood ran cold as the words settled in the pit of your stomach, then to the core of your heart and finally bounced off the walls of your brain.

Kevin…

“No.” Shaking your head and stumbling a little more, you lost your grip on your Alphas as the world spun and left you falling to the ground. In that moment you wanted nothing more than for it to swallow you whole. “No.”

Kevin was…

No one had time to react before you were on the floor, clutching at the cold concrete as your wide eyes stared vacantly ahead. You couldn’t even cry. Couldn’t get angry. Your stomach was filled with an empty flutter of compete nothingness that weighed you down like an anchor. You felt your insides drown in a heavy and dry pain that had a bitter taste. The floor felt like it was melting as you sank down into it, hoping that the Earth would just make you disappear so you’d never have to feel anything ever again as everything broke inside you.

Hands grabbed at you, trying to pull you to them. You could sense the echo of voices as they bounced of the walls and met empty ears. Clutching at your face, trying to pull your attention to them, everyone in the room worried. But you just sat, empty, nothing, gone.

Kevin was gone.

Then there was the other thing. The love of your friend was a cold and painful reminder of your other loss. Absentmindedly, your hand found its way onto your stomach as you felt everything they had done to you. Everything they’d taken.

“My pup,” your voice was barely a whisper in the frantically worried room, but it was loud enough to cut through the air like a sharp knife.

Everyone fell silent and just like that, you could hear everything again. The silence spoke more than the words that had been calling out to you. Suddenly the room was louder than ever before.

“What did you just say?” Dean asked, voice tense as if he was fighting the emotions inside him.

Eyes drifting down to where your hand rested on your stomach, you watched as a single tear fell down to land on your wrist before rolling until it fell off and disappeared.

“Toni…”

That one name was all it took.

Sam cupped the side of your face and turned your head until you were facing him. “Y/N. Y/N, look at me.” It took a moment for you to meet his gaze. “What did they do?”

Behind him, Dean looked broken and scared, eyes wide as they looked at and through you all at once. His mouth was parted like he was ready to cry, but nothing came out. All the colour drained from his face as he waited.

Sam was worried, frantically desperate for you to tell him, to say anything other than what he was fearing. Dean and Sam had implied that the younger of the two had his own experiences with the doctor, and just the thought of what they could have subjected him to made your stomach churn. You could only imagine the horrific possibilities that were going through his head.

When you answered, your voice was flat and detached, void of the emotion that should have been there. “They cuffed me to the bed. I was naked. Ketch and Toni cuffed me to the bed in her office. They told me Mick is gone. They pulled my legs up. Then Toni used a tool to… scoop.”

Sam’s hand trembled as it stayed where it sat, cupping your cheek. “Scoop?”

“Pup or no pup, they had to flush me out,” you recalled coldly.

Both Sam and Dean’s gaze fell to where your hand still sat on your stomach. The words didn’t need to be uttered… you’d said enough. They knew now.

Without a word, Sam was pulling you to him. His arms wrapped around you as he buried his face in your neck. A few seconds passed before you felt him sob against you. Dean stayed where he was, kneeling just a few inches away as he let tears slowly fall from his eyes.

You’d never seen an Alpha vulnerable and broken… never thought it was possible. But here you were, with your Alphas no less, watching as they crumbled at the realisation that you hadn’t just been ripped away from them. You’d been violated. You’d been poked and prodded. You’d been stripped of a possible pup. You’d been left wondering if you had actually even been pregnant.

Then you’d been attacked. Almost raped. Lucifer had tried to violate you in a different way that was no less cruel or disgusting. You’d been left to listen as your best friend had been beaten… beaten to the point of his death.

Kevin was gone.

“We need to get out of here.”

Sam pulled back to look at you. Reaching up, you ran the pad of your thumb along his cheek, wiping away a tear. Then you looked to Dean and reached out for him. He accepted your hand and let you pull him closer until you could rest your head on his shoulder as you looked up at his brother.

“I want to get out of here.”

Calming himself down, Sam nodded. “What do we need to do?”

Not really having an idea, you brought your eyes up to Cas as he stood a couple of steps away from your group on the floor. He met your gaze, and just like how it had been before you’d lost trust in him, he understood exactly what you were thinking.

Giving a short nod, he answered Sam’s question and your unspoken one, “We need Gabriel.”

Bamby

#alpha!dean fanfiction #alpha!dean fic #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean x omega!you #alpha!dean x omega!y/n #alpha!sam fanfiction #fic #alpha!sam x omega!reader #alpha!sam x omega!you #alpha!sam x omega!y/n #abo #abo dynamics #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #with wolves

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