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palioom · 6 months

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cavity search

summary: javier has left your calls unanswered for more than two weeks, so you come up with a plan that will bring him right to you.

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

word count: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; cavity search; anal fingering/play; vaginal fingering/fisting; some degradation (whore, puta); handcuffs; no knowledge about airport security before the 2000s

a/n: idk what i was on when i wrote this & i wish i remembered what inspired this // banners by @saradika

• masterlist •

Checking her purse for a final time in the taxi, she smiled, seeing the tiny package of coke hidden at the bottom of it, beneath the huge cellphone, makeup and perfume and her wallet.

The plan was stupid and risky. Trying to pretend to smuggle a little coke through airport security on a fake flight over to Cali. Just to get his attention? It was worth her money.

Though, there was no guarantee that Javier Peña would be sent over once they caught her. But she was willing to bet on it since he was supposed to be near the airport today - or so she’d heard.

Because even though he couldn’t stop telling her how much he loved fucking her while his cock was buried inside of her weeping pussy, he hadn’t answered her calls in more than two weeks. Sure, this was nothing more than a bit of fun on the side, but she sure was hurt and eager to have him again.

Eager and just a bit crazy enough to do this.

When the taxi stopped at the airport, she paid the driver with a smile before getting out, straightening her short skirt.

He would love what she wore and she couldn’t wait to see his face.

The check-in was easy, twirling her boarding pass in her hands as she bit her lip. She could already feel herself get wet at the thought of him having to come here, not even entertaining the thought of them sending anyone else.

Taking out her cellphone, she pretended to make a call while going over to the security check, laughing and name-dropping some of Escobar’s associates.

Gacha, the Ochoa’s, Escobar himself.

Pretending she knew about a dropoff, not caring who heard.

It was insane, seeing the reactions by the guards around her, noticing the whispers, one of them leaving while the other waved her over to inspect her now.

“Hasta luego.” She said, all sweet and confident, putting her phone back into her purse. Smiling at the man in front of her who urged her to put her heavy bag down.

He simply searched it, placing the contents onto the table. The phone, the makeup, her perfume.

And finally, the small bag of cocaine, looking at her with a raised brow while she just smiled innocently.

“I have no idea how that got in there.” She said as he put everything into the bag again, save for the drugs.

“Sígame, por favor.” Was all he replied to her, motioning for her to follow him, another officer already approaching her as well, flanking her.

This could go very wellor incredibly bad now, letting them lead her to a private room where she simply waited, anticipation setting her body on fire. She had to squeeze her legs together to try and get some friction, growing more and more horny by the minute, her hands cuffed to the middle of the table.

Then, the door opened, and in walked Javier Peña, his face going from serious to surprised and then back to serious, all while her smile grew bigger.

“Do you need me to stay with you, Agent Peña?” The officer asked.

Javier shook his head.

“I got it from here. She’s tied to Escobar so this is my jurisdiction.” He said to the officer who let him in, giving him a stern look when he hesitated for a moment but finally left them alone.

Just standing there, he let out an incredulous laugh, shaking his head.

“Fucking hell, chiquita.” He said, feeling angry but also incredibly impressed by her boldness, knowing just by her grin this had been a plan of some sort which seemed to be going incredibly well.

“Hello, Javi.” She replied, lips still stretched wide into a smile, but her eyes were filled with excitement and hunger. “Long time no see.”

Stepping closer, he placed his hands on the table, leaning over to her, no hint of amusement on his face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at, chiquita?” Oh, he was angry. Voice quiet but deadly. “You’re smuggling drugs now?”

She giggled at his question, batting her eyelashes at him with her cocky grin and shrugging her shoulders.

“You didn’t answer my calls, Javi.”

His face fell for just a moment before he laughed, biting at his bottom lip and standing up straight. Towering over her as he rounded the table.

“You little puta.” Stopping next to her, she had to crane her head to look at him, his arms crossing in front of his chest, his biceps bulging in the short sleeved red shirt he wore. The smallest smirk curled his lips upward. “Getting arrested for what? Some dick? Is that really worth it to you?”

Again, she shrugged her shoulders.

“You should take it as a compliment, Javier. I would if I was you.”

Her heart beat in her throat at the sight of him like this, wondering if he looked at his suspects the same way he looked at her right now.

“How’d you even know they’d call me?”

“I didn’t, I just hoped they would.”

What a clever, crazy little thing. Who was insane enough to buy a cheap flight and get a baggy of drugs just because their calls hadn’t been answered in a while?

Her, apparently. And somehow, he liked it.

Javier sighed, thinking this whole thing over. Something about this had him half hard in his jeans already, the thought of her desperate pussy enough to get him going.

Maybe he could pull this through, just go along with her little game. But it would just give her what she wanted, wouldn’t it?

Reaching for the cuffs, he unlocked them, surprising her. He wouldn’t just let her go like this, would he? How would he explain this to anyone?

“Get up, looks like I gotta do a cavity search.” He said, tone flat, like he was bored, like this was routine to him. Just another workday. Meanwhile it got her going, eyes widening just a little, gaze dark. “Pretty girls like you don’t just hide a couple of grams in their purse, strip.”

Blinking up at him, her mouth fell open at the direct orders, just slightly and he had to chuckle at her dumbfounded look. She clearly hadn’t expected this.

“C’mon, I don’t like to repeat myself. Get your ass up and strip.”

His tone had her get up quickly, her hands moving to her skirt, opening the zipper at the side. As she let it fall to the floor he took his time to pat her down, first moving over her sides, really squeezing at her waist and hips before moving up again, stepping behind her. She gasped when he cupped her breasts through her clothes, maybe just a little too hard.

He had to make sure she didn’t hide anything, after all.

“You take your job very seriously.” The sarcastic remark earned her another squeeze, harder this time. “There’s nothing there, Peña.”

He grinned, letting go of her and taking a step back, watching her strip out of her underwear, the black, lacy panties landing on the floor, her ass exposed to him.

The air in the room felt cold without anything on, shivering just a little as she waited for his next orders, excited and dripping wet already.

She didn’t expect to feel the cold metal of his handcuffs on her ankle, tying her to the leg of the table on one side before he roughly took her other ankle and attached it to the other side with the pair he had taken from the table, forcing her to bend over it, fully exposed to him.

It was quiet, only their breaths softly echoing off the walls, and she just waited for him to touch her, clenching around nothing at the thought of his rough hands all over her body and pussy.

Then, he moved around her, appearing in her field of vision and going to a smaller table standing in the corner, grabbing the box of gloves standing on it. Her breath hitched in her throat but he only looked back at her with a raised brow.

“You really thought I’d search you without these?” He asked, placing the box down on the table in front of her, taking one out before he moved behind her again.

She turned her head to look at him, watching as he put on the bright blue glove, just the sound making her whimper.

“Usually we find drugs placed in someone’s ass, so I guess I’ll start there, huh?” His non-gloved hand pressed her flat onto the surface, laying between her shoulder blades, her ass perfectly sticking out for him. “Or do you want to admit to something before I start?”

She shook her head firmly, gasping loudly when she felt his fingers spread her cheeks before he spit onto her asshole, hearing him laugh at her strangled moan.

One finger pressed against the tight ring of muscle, eliciting a moan from her as it slipped inside. This was far from the first time he had put his thick fingers inside of her ass, but the situation just made the sensation feel so much better.

“Where did you even get them?” He asked almost casually as he spread her open, pushing his finger in and out of her carefully.

She moaned, fingers curling into the hard metal surface of the table, biting her lip.

“Friend of a friend, owed me a favour.” She responded, breathless.

“Fucking hell, chiquita.” He muttered, carefully adding a second finger.

A moan slipped past her lips, her own hand coming up to cover her mouth, muffling her noises while he scissored his fingers, opening her wider.

God, he was thorough in his inspection.

“Hid them pretty well, bebesita.” Javier said, pushing his fingers in all the way to the knuckle, wiggling them around and laughing at the strangled noises that left her. “But I suppose your ass is empty.”

Pulling his fingers out, he sighed, the sound of latex snapping appearing behind her before the crumpled glove landed on the table next to her and he took a new one.

“Wish it wasn’t.” She mumbled, cheek pressed into the cold metal, looking back at him. The sharp smack of his hand on her ass echoed in the room, making her cry out before she bit into her closed fist. It was a nice feeling, the pain bleeding into pleasure, his fingers now rubbing against the sopping entrance of her pussy.

“You really get off on this, don’t you?” He chuckled, pressing two fingers into her without warning, making her squirm and try to adjust her stance. “Me searching your ass? That’s what you wanted, didn’t you? Getting your ass searched and then your pretty pussy?”

She gripped his fingers tight, still pumping in and out of her, stretching her open, his words only turning her on more.

“I can feel your pussy answering me, bebesita, but I need an answer from you for the record.” Scissoring his fingers, she moaned into her hand, her eyes closing.

“Yes.” She breathed out, whining when he pressed a third finger in, the stretch bringing that sweet pain with it that she loved. “That’s what I wanted, yes!”

He chuckled, his hand between her shoulder blades pressing down harder as he leaned onto it, his fingers knuckle deep inside of her.

“Must’ve hidden them pretty well, still can’t find a damn thing, chiquita.”

She felt so close already, his gloved fingers stroking along her inner walls expertly, her knees beginning to wobble.

“Javi- Mhmm, ‘m good at hiding things.” Her words came out slurred and incoherent, biting down into her fist harder.

His brow raised at her words, curling his fingers.

“So you do have something hidden here?” He asked with a grin, stroking along that good spot of hers again and again, watching as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. “Did you just admit that you do, chiquita?”

Her orgasm took her by surprise, knocking all air out of her lungs as she pulsed around his fingers, moaning against her fist, feeling the intense waves reach every part of her body as she shook on the table.

But he didn’t stop, using the gush of wetness to work another finger into her, paying close attention to how she squirmed and moaned at the feeling, eyes closed in bliss. This was new for either of them, but she seemed to enjoy the stretch.

“Gonna have me put my whole hand up your pussy to get it?”

She was already dripping down his hand and the inside of her thighs, wetting his watch as he kept pumping in and out, four fingers inside of her.

He wondered if she could take his whole fist, in awe of how tight she was around his fingers but also how much she could fit already.

Greedy thing.

“Hope it was worth doing this, bebesita.” He rasped, watching her twitch from the overstimulation, some tears in the corners of her eyes. “Making me fist your tight pussy, think you can take all of it, baby?”

She nodded, unsure if she could take it but wanting to try, the sensation of four fingers already bordering on too much.

“Can take it, can take it.” The words were still slurred, her mind hazy as he worked her open wider. Feeling so full, so nice and stretched open.

“You better, for getting me out here, making sure you don’t have any more drugs hidden anywhere.”

Javier felt like he could cum from this alone, easing the rest of his hand into her slowly after a minute or two, stopping his moments as she let out a strangled moan, both trying to escape from him while also backing into his hand, now inside of her all the way to the wrist.

“Fuck, look at that.” A low whistle accompanied his words before he chuckled. “Taking my whole hand and there’s no drugs hidden anywhere, just wanted me to fist you. Did two weeks really get you that desperate?”

She was right at the edge again, feeling that familiar tug while the stretch threatened to overwhelm her, tears running down her cheek and onto the table.

Couldn’t believe just how full she was, thinking about how huge his hand was. Feeling the cool metal of his watch against her pussy.

“So desperate to get searched by a DEA agent, all because I didn’t have time for you, bebesita. You filthy thing.”

Tensing his fist inside of her, he pushed her over, her entire body convulsing and daring to just collapse if he didn’t press her down onto the table with the hand not currently buried inside of her. Not a single thing was in her head as she rode out her orgasm, boneless and unable to produce much noise.

Just too overwhelmed with the foreign feeling, the slight pain and the pleasure. The fullness. Reaching places inside of her she didn’t thought were possible to reach.

Javier let her ride out the waves before slowly, carefully removing his hand from her, more of her juices dripping over his forearm, over his watch. Utterly in awe of what she had done, suddenly unwilling to simply let her go.

“Nothing.” He said with a hint of disappointment, stripping the glove off of his hand, throwing it to the other one. “A desperate whore and a liar.”

She felt spent, barely registering his hand running along her pussy lips as he knelt down, admiring his work. Pretty and wide for him, he just had to have her.

Not here, though. Javier uncuffed her from the table and helped her sit down on the chair, letting her catch her breath.

“Think I gotta investigate you more thoroughly, chiquita.” He threw the gloves in the trash before coming back to help her get dressed, seeing just how fucked out the was. That would be hard to explain, but he was sure he would find a way.

After all, Javier was good at talking himself out of things.

“Guess you know more about Escobar than I thought you did.”

She weakly smiled back at him, her hand on his shoulder when he helped her stand, pulling up her skirt. Still wobbly, but giggling at least.

“You can search me all you want, you won’t find a thing. I’m just too good.” There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, her fingers curling into his shoulder. “I’d love to see you try, though.”

He shook his head, painfully aware of his hard dick straining against his jeans.

No matter how pissed he had been at the beginning of this, he certainly did not feel any of that anger anymore. Impressed with her whole idea and fucking horny because of her.

“Then let’s go and continue this in private, I’m sure I can get you to talk somehow.” He joked, moving behind her to cuff her wrists with a smirk. “The DEA doesn’t have to know about my methods, do they?”

She nodded, trying to look like he hadn’t just shoved his entire fist inside of her, stumbling a little.

“Maybe you can do a more thorough cavity search, Agent Peña.” A giggle left her at the sharp inhale behind her, looking at him over her shoulder. “I could still have something hidden up my ass, you know.”

Oh, she really was crazy.

In a way, he really was glad to have not called her back in so long.

How else would they have found out that she can take much more than just his dick?

#javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena narcos #Javier Peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x you #javier peña smut #narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedrostories #my writing

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doctorbitchcrxft · 11 days

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Home | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mention of parental death, mentions of abuse

Word Count: 4388

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You sat cross-legged on the floor of the boys’ motel room, sipping a coffee you’d run out to get earlier that morning. Dean was on his computer, and you were responding to the potential cases he’d found.

“A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali—” Dean started.

“Ooh, I like Cali,” you cut him off.

“—Its crew vanished.” He finished.

“And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas.”

“Meh, that’s boring. Let somebody else handle that one,” you dismissed.

Dean noticed Sam hadn’t spoken in just about the last hour. He was frantically scribbling on a notepad.

“Hey,” Dean called to his brother. “Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?”

“No. I’m listening. Keep going.”

He clearly wasn’t.

“And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times.”

“Ooh, I like that one,” you said.

Dean leaned over and waved a hand in front of Sam’s face. “Any of these things blowin’ up your skirt, pal?”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows at his notepad. “Wait. I’ve seen this.”

“Seen what?” you asked.

Sam got up from his bed and began rifling through his duffel bag.

“What are you doing?” Dean eyed his brother strangely.

The younger brother pulled out a photo from the bag and held it up next to his drawing. You couldn’t quite see what he was looking at from where you sat.

“Guys, I know where we have to go next.”

“Where?” Dean asked.

“Back home. Back to Kansas,” he responded.

The older brother was surprised. “Okay, random. Where’d that come from?”

He showed the photo to the two of you. “Alright, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?”

“Yeah…?” Dean still had no idea where he was going with this.

“And it didn’t burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?”

Dean— as well as you— was still lost. “I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but… the people who live in our old house— I think they might be in danger,” Sam rushed out.

“Why would you think that?” you questioned.

“Uh… it’s just, um… look, just trust me on this, okay?” Sam turned away.

“Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?” Dean shook his head and stood to follow him. “Come on, man, that’s weak. You gotta give us a little bit more than that.”

“I can’t really explain it is all,” Sam shrugged.

“Well, tough. I’m not goin’ anywhere until you do.”

You turned to face Sam as he began to explain. “I have these nightmares.”

You nodded. “We’ve noticed.”

“And sometimes… they come true.”

Dean was stunned. “Come again?”

“Look, Dean… I dreamt about Jessica’s death— for days before it happened,” Sam explained.

“Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.” Dean sat back down on the edge of his bed.

“No,” the younger brother protested. “I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything about it ‘cause I didn’t believe it. And now I’m dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?”

You felt overwhelmed, and so did Dean. “I don’t know.”

Sam sat down across from his brother. “What do you mean you don’t know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!”

“Sam, slow down—” you urged him, knowing Dean was about to go through the roof.

Sure enough, Dean stood and started pacing. “I mean, first you tell me that you’ve got the Shining? And then you tell me that I’ve gotta go back home? Especially when….”

“When what?” you asked.

Dean’s voice broke for the first time since you’d met him. “When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?”

Sam’s puppy dog eyes appeared as he spoke softly, “Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure.”

Dean nodded. “I know we do.”

***

You looked out at the boys’ childhood home and followed them up to the front door.

“You gonna be alright, man?” Sam asked his brother who didn’t respond.

“Jury’s still out on that,” you muttered in response.

Dean knocked on the front door, and a young woman answered. You could see a look of recognition pass over Sam’s face.

“Yes?” the woman said.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but we’re with the Federal—”

One Winchester cut the other off. “I’m Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin’ by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place.”

The woman seemed surprised and smiled. “Winchester. Yeah, that’s so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night.” She turned to you. “Are you a Winchester, too? I didn’t see a little girl in any of the pictures.”

You shook your head. “No, no. Just a friend. (Y/N).”

She smiled at you. “Nice to meet you. Come on in.”

Inside the home, a girl who looked to be around seven sat at the table doing homework, and a little boy who was presumably two jumped in his playpen.

“Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!” the toddler called excitedly.

“That’s Ritchie. He’s kind of a juice junkie,” Jenny explained, taking a sippy cup from the fridge and bringing it to her son. “But, hey, at least he won’t get scurvy.” She walked back over to her daughter. “Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). The boys used to live here.”

“Hi,” the shy girl said quietly.

You waved.

“So, you just moved in?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, from Wichita.”

“You got family here, or…?”

Jenny’s smile faded. “No. I just, uh… needed a fresh start, that’s all. So, new town, new job— I mean, as soon as I find one. New house.”

“So, how you likin’ it so far?” Sam questioned.

Jenny laughed awkwardly. “Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home— I mean, I’m sure you had lots of happy memories here—”

You discreetly turned to see Dean smile weakly.

“But this place has its issues,” she finished.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, it’s just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We’ve got flickering lights almost hourly.”

That caught your attention. “Oh, that’s too bad. What else?”

“Um…sink’s backed up, there’s rats in the basement…” She trailed off. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain.”

Dean shook his head. “No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?”

Jenny looked at him quizzically. “It’s just the scratching, actually.”

Sari tugged on her mom’s shirt, who stooped down next to her. “Ask them if it was here when they lived here.”

“What, Sari?” Sam asked.

“The thing in my closet,” she whispered as if the thing would hear.

“Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets.” Jenny looked up to you and the boys. “Right?”

They shook their heads.

“She had a nightmare the other night,” Jenny explained.

Sari’s voice suddenly got louder. “I wasn’t dreaming. It came into my bedroom and it was on fire.”

The boys seemed too shocked to speak.

You took over. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You’re okay now though, right?”

She nodded.

“See? It didn’t get ya. It was only a dream.”

You knew it wasn’t. A pit filled your stomach after saying your goodbyes to the family and heading out of the door.

“You hear that? A figure on fire,” Sam reminded the two of you.

“And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?” Dean asked.

"Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin’ true,” the older brother chuckled humorlessly.

“Well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it’s the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?”

“I don’t know!” Dean responded.

The brothers were only making each other panic worse at this point.

“Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?” Sam inquired.

“Or maybe it’s something else entirely, Sam, we don’t know yet.”

“Both of you need to calm down,” you told them, simultaneously getting in the car. “We’re gonna get those people safe. Whatever’s in there is not gonna hurt you or those people.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil,” Dean remarked.

You snapped into a more intense tone, leaning over the backseat. “Look, dude, you’re gonna get your shit together. The two of you are only ramping each other up. Now, you are going to get a grip or I will do this job on my own.”

Sam and Dean both nodded.

“You’re runnin’ low on gas, Dee.” You patted Dean’s cheek before sitting back against your chair.

***

“We just gotta chill out, that’s all,” Dean said as he pumped gas.

“I’ve tried telling you that eighty times since we left that house.”

He ignored your snide comment. “You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?”

"We’d try to figure out what we were dealin’ with. We’d dig into the history of the house,” Sam sighed.

"Exactly,” the older brother began, “except this time, we already know what happened.”

"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?”

"About that night, you mean?”

"Yeah.”

Dean paused. “Not much. I remember the fire… the heat. And then I carried you out the front door.”

You looked at the floor, knowing how hard this must be for him to open up.

“You did?” the younger Winchester asked.

"Yeah, what, you never knew that?”

"No.”

“And, well, you know Dad’s story as well as I do. Mom was— was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her.”

“And he never had a theory about what did it?”

“If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times.”

"Okay. So, if we’re gonna figure out what’s goin’ on now…we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it’s the same thing.”

You decided to add your two cents. “Yeah. We can talk to your dad’s friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time.”

Silence blanketed the three of you for a moment, the air feeling heavy.

“Does this feel like just another job to you?” Sam piped up.

‘Of course, it doesn’t,’ you thought.

Dean kept quiet for a moment. “I’ll be right back,” he finally said. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” He walked away, and you watched him turn the corner around the gas station. He looked back for a moment, and you assumed it was to see if anyone had followed him.

You furrowed your brows. You allowed a few minutes to pass before you announced to Sam, “I’m gonna go check on Dean.”

While you turned the corner, you saw Dean exiting the bathroom door. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. When he noticed you, he tried to shoulder his normal attitude.

“You stalkin’ me?”

“No, actually, I came to check on you.”

“Well, I’m fine.” He went to brush past you.

You grabbed his bicep. “Don’t lie to me.”

He stopped, looking you over. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”

“Then what’s this?” you gently brushed your first finger under his chin, picking up a tear he had forgotten to wipe away. You held it up for him to see.

Dean opened his mouth to say something before snapping it shut again. He gently pulled his arm out of your grip. “C’mon, let’s go.” He started walking away from you.

You caught up to him, asking, “Are you sure you don’t just want me to do this one by myself?”

He nodded sharply.

Sam gave you a curious look while Dean got in the car.

You shook your head before the two of you ducked into the Impala simultaneously.

***

The three of you spoke to a man who had owned a car garage with John years ago. You learned how much John had changed before Mary’s death versus after, and you began to understand why Dean was the way he was. You also learned that he had been going to see a palm reader in town. Dean recognized the names of one of the palm readers Sam had read from a compiled list: Missouri Moseley. The three of you went over to her house and waited in her foyer as she finished with her last client.

She guided the client out of the door. “Alright, there. Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you.”

The man thanked her, and she closed the door behind you.

She addressed the three of you. “Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin’ the gardener.”

You giggled.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Dean asked.

“People don’t come here for the truth. They come for good news,” the woman explained. You stared at her, as did the boys.

“Well? Sam, Dean, (Y/N), come on already, I ain’t got all day.”

You looked at Dean. You knew you hadn’t told her your name. The three of you followed her into the next room.

“Well, lemme look at ya,” she smiled at the boys. “Oh, you boys grew up handsome.” She pointed her finger at Dean. “And you were one goofy-lookin’ kid, too.”

You giggled again. You liked her a lot.

“Sam.” Missouri grabbed his hand. “Oh, honey…I’m sorry about your girlfriend. And your father— he’s missin’?”

“How’d you know all that?” Sam asked her.

“Well, you were just thinkin’ it just now.”

“Well, where is he? Is he okay?” Dean questioned.

Missouri’s smile faded. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t know? Well, you’re supposed to be a psychic, right?”

“Boy, you see me sawin’ some bony tramp in half? You think I’m a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can’t just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please.”

You smirked at Sam and sat down.

Missouri snapped at Dean. “Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I’m ‘a whack you with a spoon!”

“I didn’t do anything!” he responded.

“But you were thinkin’ about it.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, and you and Sam smiled.

“(Y/N), honey, I didn’t mean to completely disregard you,” she smiled at you. “(Y/L/N)... where do I know that name from?” She pondered for a moment and her smile faded. “I knew your dad. Mean ol’ bastard.”

Your throat clenched. You could feel the boys looking at you, but you kept your eyes on Missouri.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you,” she went on. “I’m just sorry about what he did to you. And your brother? You poor thing.” She tsked.

Tears welled in your eyes.

Sam knew he should change the subject. “Okay. So, our dad— when did you first meet him?”

“He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say I drew back the curtains for him,” Missouri explained.

“What about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mom?” Dean questioned.

“A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin’ I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing.”

“And could you?”

You tried to focus on the conversation, but your throat was still choked up. You could vaguely register them talking about what Missouri sensed in their house and how she had been keeping an eye on the place since Mary’s passing. All you could focus on were the memories you were being pulled back into. Memories of what your father put you through and how your mother just stood by. Memories of defending your brother against your father’s wickedness. You tried your best to pull yourself back to the light; you knew Missouri could hear what you were thinking. You wouldn’t let yourself be weak enough to let your father hurt you eight years after his death.

“Baby, you are not weak.” Missouri’s voice pulled you back to shore. “I’m sorry I brought all that up for you.”

You nodded at her, voice too weak to respond. Sam squeezed your hand, and you could feel Dean’s gaze boring into the side of your head.

***

You and the boys headed back to their childhood home with Missouri. You still couldn’t register what was going on outside of your own head. You knew Missouri hadn’t truly brought anything up for you; these memories were all just buried under the surface for you. Hunting didn’t exactly leave much time for you to dwell on your emotions.

Jenny allowed Missouri to come into her home and showed her and your trio into Sari’s bedroom. You were beginning to come back to earth and could focus on the conversation happening around you.

“If there’s a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it,” Missouri explained, walking around Sari’s room.

“Why?” Sam asked.

Missouri turned to him. “This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened.”

Dean pulled out his repurposed walkman.

“That an EMF?” Missouri asked.

“Yeah,” Dean answered.

“Amateur,” she deadpanned.

You noticed the EMF was beeping frantically.

“I don’t know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain’t the thing that took your mom,” Missouri told the Winchesters.

“Wait, are you sure?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

She nodded.

“How do you know?”

“It isn’t the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It’s somethin’ different.”

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“Not it.” Missouri opened the closer. “Them. There’s more than one spirit in this place.”

“What are they doing here?” Dean asked.

“They’re here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected,” Missouri elaborated.

Sam shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It’s attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won’t rest until Jenny and her babies are dead.”

“You said there was more than one spirit.”

“There is. I just can’t quite make out the second one.”

Dean’s voice became hard. “Well, one thing’s for damn sure— nobody’s dyin’ in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?”

***

After Missouri taught you how to pack small protection bags that you and the boys were to place in the cardinal points on both floors in Jenny’s house, you had to get Jenny and her kids out of harm's way.

“Look, I’m not sure I’m comfortable leaving you guys here alone,” she told Missouri.

“Just take your kids to the movies or somethin’, and it’ll be over by the time you get back.”

You could tell the woman was still unsure, but she followed orders anyway. And with that, the four of you got to work.

When you were halfway done with the job, things started to get ugly. Just as you were about to place your second and final bag in the wall of Jenny’s bedroom, a cord snaked around your neck and pulled tightly. You dropped the bag of herbs to the ground; unable to get it into the wall in time. You gasped for air, frantically reaching for the bag but the spirit’s hold was too strong. Your vision began to spot and your face contorted in discomfort; doing the best you could to get air in your lungs. It was no use. Just when you thought it was over, Dean rushed to your side.

“(Y/N)!” he cried, pulling at the cord with all his might.

You clawed at your neck with one hand and motioned to the bag of herbs with the other. Dean understood what you were trying to say, and kicked a hole in the wall. He quickly put the bag inside, and your neck was released. Your head fell to the ground gasping for air.

Dean pulled you into a fierce hug that left you breathless. He pulled back from you, holding your face on either side. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. He gingerly touched the place where the cord had undoubtedly bruised your neck. “Can you stand?”

You nodded again. With Dean’s help, you made your way down to Missouri and Sam who stood in the middle of an extremely messy kitchen. Jenny’s kitchen table had been turned on its side with knives driven through the top of it, assumedly by the ghosts. The refrigerator door was swung wide open, and various items from the pantry had spilled out all over the place.

“You sure this is over?” Sam asked the psychic.

“I’m sure. Why? Why do you ask?”

Sam sighed in response. “Never mind. It’s nothin’, I guess.”

The front door opened.

“Hello? We’re home,” Jenny announced when she walked into the house. She came into the kitchen, dumbfounded by the mess. “What happened?”

"Hi, sorry. Um, we’ll pay for all of this,” Sam told her.

“Don’t you worry. Dean’s gonna clean up this mess,” Missouri added.

Dean stood glued to his spot.

“Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop.”

He glared at Missouri, but began walking away nonetheless.

“And don’t cuss at me!”

***

You remained confused by how Dean had hugged you for the rest of the night which you spent in the Impala parked in front of Jenny’s house.

“Alright, so, tell me again, what are we still doin’ here?” Dean asked his brother.

“I don’t know. I just… I still have a bad feeling,” he responded.

“Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over.”

“Yeah, well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, that’s all.”

Dean slumped down in his seat. “Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now.”

You slumped down in your seat, too, only to see Jenny screaming and banging on her bedroom window. “Guys, look!”

The three of you rushed into the house.

“You two grab the kids, I’ll get Jenny,” Dean said.

You nodded and sprinted to Ritchie’s room. The sleeping toddler was startled when you woke him up, but allowed you to carry him downstairs nonetheless. You met Sam by the front door who said to Sari, “Take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don’t look back.” She obliged and took the little boy from you.

Before the two of you could do anything else, you were slammed to the ground and dragged backward across the tile floor. You could hear poor Sari screaming as you and Sam were dragged away.

You were pinned to the wall by an invisible force and pushed up toward the ceiling. You could hear presumably Dean hacking away at the door, trying desperately to get in as a figure on fire approached you.

Dean made his way into the home and called your names frantically. He raised his gun at the fire figure when he caught sight of it.

“No, don’t! Don’t!” Sam cried.

“What, why?!” you asked.

“Because I know who it is. I can see her now.”

And then, the fire vanished revealing who you recognized from pictures as Mary Winchester. She was wearing a white nightgown and her blonde hair billowed softly around her. Her feet were bare, and her aging skin was only slightly wrinkled.

You could see tears rising in Dean’s eyes as he lowered his gun. “Mom?”

The woman smiled and stepped closer to him. “Dean.”

She walked toward you and her youngest son. “Sam.” Her smile faded. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked.

She looked at him sadly, but said nothing.

The woman turned to you last. “Thank you,” she said.

You smiled back at her, though you weren’t quite sure what she was thanking you for.

She turned away and looked up toward the ceiling. “You get out of my house. And let go of my son.” Her hair and nightgown were swept up into flames once more. The fire licked up to the ceiling, growing larger before disappearing entirely. You and Sam were released from the wall at once.

“Now it’s over,” Sam muttered.

***

The sun had risen while you and the boys were in the house. You called Missouri back to the Winchesters’ childhood home, and she sat on the porch talking with Sam.

You were standing with Dean by the car looking through his old family photos.

“Thanks for these,” Dean told Jenny.

“Don’t thank me, they’re yours.”

Dean put the trunk of photos and family memorabilia in the car. You and Dean bid Jenny, who thanked you, goodbye before leaning against the car together. The two of you knew you had a lot to talk about, but you weren’t brave enough to start the conversation.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked you.

You couldn’t look at him. “Why do you ask?”

“I think you know.”

You paused a moment before turning to face him. “I promise I’ll tell you, just… not today.” You stuck out your pinkie for him to take.

He chuckled at you. “What are we, five?”

“Just do it, asshole,” you smiled back.

He linked his pinkie with yours, shaking your hand back and forth lightly. The two of you stood there for a second, staring at each other and getting lost in the moment. Before long, you both realized what was going on and jerked away from each other.

Dean scratched his head. “Sam, you ready?” he called.

Sam nodded and came over to the car.

“Don’t you kids be strangers,” Missouri told you.

“We won’t,” Dean responded.

“See you around,” the woman winked at you.

You smiled at her before getting in the car and driving away.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @elqsiian @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @doublecrazyyymofo

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

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ladykailitha · 1 month

Text

Across a Crowded Room Part 3

Oops! This has five chapters not four. So I might double up next week depending on how far in the other stories I get.

This is a long boy. Longer than I usually make parts, but there was no place to break it without slowly down the plot.

Also heads up, if you're familiar with me at all, you know that I tend to write a nuanced, but mostly unfavorable Nancy. I like the character, (I know it doesn't seem like it) but she's isn't a good person. So when I write her, she isn't a good person especially if I'm writing post canon (ish, Eddie lives) but she is brave, she is strong, and she is tenacious.

So you are a fan of Nancy and don't like the way I write her in this story, please hit the back button, not the comment section. Please?

Eddie and Robin don't come out great in this chapter, either, but at least they're trying.

And sexy times ahead.

Part 1 Part 2

****

Eddie shook his head as he watched Steve go. His little plan about moving out to Cali to be with Eddie made him so happy. That Steve wanted to be with him even if that meant being further away from Robin. And wasn’t that the be all, end all.

Steve was out in no time at all, tight jeans and grey Henley. Eddie wanted nothing more to rip them off of him and toss him into bed to ravish him.

Steve caught his heated glance and winked at him.

“We’ve got plenty of time for that, rockstar,” he said, voice low and dangerous, “you’re here all week.”

The fire in Eddie’s gut didn’t quench, it ignited. “Same goes for the apartment hunt, honey.” He pulled Steve in close, wrapping one arm around his waist. “I could please you in that bed of yours or even on the sofa if you’re eager enough.”

Steve felt a shiver down his spine and his eyelids drooped. “Yeah, and just how would you please me, Eds?” He placed both arms around his neck.

“I’d start with these two little moles,” Eddie purred, licking the spot he had just described.

Steve let out a low moan. “And then?”

“Then I would get my hands on that glorious ass,” Eddie continued. He went back to licking and kissing that part on Steve’s neck, but his hands cupped his ass and brought Steve flush against him.

“Eddie...” Steve whined. He was so hard.

“You like that?” Eddie cooed. “Then after bringing you close, I would let my hands roam. In your hair, under your shirt; your back, your stomach.”

Steve legs started to shake as Eddie did just that.

“Hmm...” he purred into Steve’s ear, “looks like we’re gonna need to lie you down, sweetness. What’s it going to be, the bedroom or the sofa?”

Steve’s hands slid down Eddie’s arms, rubbing them up and down as he thought about it. “Bedroom. Definitely the bedroom.”

Eddie grinned and spun Steve around. “Lead the way, babe.”

Steve scrambled to the bedroom, Eddie hot on his heels. Eddie slammed the door behind them as Steve sat on the edge of the bed. Eddie prowled his way to his boy, who smirked up at him.

Eddie licked his lips. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous. I can’t want to take you apart.”

“Come get me.”

Eddie proceeded to just that. Clothes were quickly dispatched and Steve lay on the bed looking up at Eddie with wide-eye wonder.

Eddie crawled over top of him and kissed him deeply. Hands roamed again, mapping out every freckle, every mole, every scar, every line. He kissed the spots he found he couldn’t get enough of.

Steve moaned and whined in pleasure as Eddie made his way down his body.

“You got condoms, big boy?” Eddie asked, face directly above Steve’s cock.

Steve pulled out a box and tossed it at him.

“Keep these under your pillow, Stevie?” Eddie admonished playfully. “Such a dirty boy.”

Steve’s cock twitched in response and Eddie grinned. He quickly sheathed both of their cocks and then went to town, licking and sucking Steve off.

Steve’s hands buried themselves into Eddie’s hair, trying not buck into those perfect lips.

Eddie reached underneath Steve’s balls and pressed a finger in. Steve nearly jackknifed off the bed.

“Drawer!” he panted. “Lube in drawer.” His hand flailed at his nightstand and Eddie grinned.

“I should have asked if you had any, baby,” Eddie said. “Let’s make this really easy for you.”

He grabbed the lube and looked at the bottle. “Strawberry passion fruit?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I like the flavor,” Steve grunted.

Eddie shrugged and coated his fingers with the stuff. He lowered himself back onto Steve’s cock and then slow pressed one finger to Steve’s entrance.

Steve moaned as Eddie pressed past the rim and into his ass. It was all he could do to not just come down Eddie’s throat in a heartbeat. Not that he could do that with the condom in the way. But that’s what it felt like. The second finger joined the first and Steve was a goner. His back arched as he emptied his load straight into Eddie’s hot mouth.

Eddie pulled off with a slick pop and stared down at the very debauched Steve Harrington. He removed Steve’s condom and tossed it away after tying it off.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he murmured. “That was the hottest thing ever.”

Steve blushed and the blush went all the way to his nipples to Eddie’s enjoyment and Steve’s chagrin.

“Just you wait, Stevie,” Eddie purred, placing a kiss on Steve’s overheated stomach. “There’s more good coming for you.”

“Eds...”

Eddie kissed his inner thigh and began working Steve open again. Once he was satisfied that Steve would be able to take him without discomfort, he pulled his fingers out.

“Please...” Steve begged.

Eddie rubbed his hands soothingly on Steve’s thighs as he lined himself up to his ass. “I’ve got you, honey. I promise to make you feel good.”

“I trust you.”

And if that wasn’t the kicker, Eddie didn’t know what was.

He went in slow until his hips were flush against Steve’s beautiful ass and then he immediately picked up the pace.

Steve moans became cries and Eddie could tell that it felt good from the way gripped the sheets.

“I’m not going to last long, you feel to good.”

“I wanna see,” Steve murmured breathlessly. “I wanna see you come, Eds.”

One, two...

And then he stilled, filling the condom with his load. Steve was nearly sobbing from the intense pleasure.

Eddie pulled out and disposed of his condom. Steve collapsed on the mattress, sated at last.

Eddie laid down next to him and they cuddled together as they came down from the high of really good sex.

“Holy shit,” Steve said once his brain came back online. “What was that?”

Eddie chuckled, nuzzling Steve’s neck. “I call it a suck and fuck.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “Because of course you do.”

“It’s good to see you so happy, Stevie,” Eddie murmured. “You know, when I first arrived at the bar and saw you with your friends, I thought ‘he’s happier without me’, but now that I see you now, and how much happier you are now. There’s no contest. I make you happy. I make you happy. I make you happy. And there is nothing better in the world than that.”

Steve kissed him. “Is that why Robin was pissed when you said the plan was for you to move to Chicago, because you thought I didn’t need you?”

Eddie nodded. “She made me see reason.”

“I’m glad.”

They cuddled for a bit longer before they hopped into the shower to get cleaned up and to spend more time in each other’s arms before facing the world yet again.

****

Steve was starting to get a migraine. Well, okay not really. But that’s what apartment hunting was starting to feel like.

Their first day had been a complete bust. Too high of a down payment. Shitty landlords. Beautiful pictures, horrible reality. Bad neighborhoods.

So they decided to go to dinner with Robin to blow off some steam after such a crappy afternoon.

“I’m just grateful to be sleeping on Nancy’s couch until I can find a place,” Robin said in sympathy.

“How is Nancy and Jonathan?” Eddie asked.

Steve took a drink to hide his grimace. It bothered him that his two best friends were still in contact with his ex and the guy she cheated on him with, but he couldn’t tell them why it bothered him without completely blowing up Robin’s living arrangement. So he kept his mouth shut.

“They’re taking a break,” Robin said with a wince of her own. “She’s pissed at his lack of ambition and he’s pissed she cost him a high paying photography gig by shooting off her mouth to the wrong person at the wrong time.”

Steve ducked his head because the was no glass big enough in the world that he could lift to hide his gleeful expression. He fiddled with his napkin for something to do with his hands.

“That’s rough,” Eddie was saying. “I was rooting for them, you know?”

Robin nodded. “They were cute together.”

Just then Steve was spared the mortification of shouting out that she cheated on him by the waiter coming up to take their drink and appetizer order.

“I’ll drive,” Robin said. “You order whatever you like.”

Steve ordered a strawberry daiquiri and Eddie snorted into his water glass. Robin rolled her eyes.

“Of course you did,” she huffed. “I’m just surprised you two made it out of the apartment at all, if I’m honest.”

“Just a whiskey for me,” Eddie told the waiter to get out of this suddenly very awkward conversation.

“I’ll take a cherry Coke, please.”

Once the waiter had gone, Steve went back to playing with his napkin.

Their drinks arrived and then their appetizer. They ordered their main as they happily munched on their nachos.

About half way through dinner Robin rolled. “Come on, Steve. It’s not like you can avoid talking about her forever. You two broke up before you even met Eddie and me.”

Steve just shrugged, twisting his napkin further. He was sure it was going to be in pieces before this meal was over.

Eddie looked between them in confusion. “Who, what now?”

“Nancy,” Robin said. “He always gets super quiet and broody when I bring her up.”

Eddie frowned. “Hey, man–”

“Don’t call me ‘man’, we fucked!” Steve spat. He got up quickly from the table and stormed out of the restaurant.

Once he was out onto the pavement he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. A minute later, Eddie was lighting one up next to him.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie muttered. “Going back to calling you ‘man’ after all the sweet nicknames I had been calling you all day was wrong.”

Steve’s hand shook as he let out an exhale of smoke. “I guess I just don’t get why you two are friends with her.”

Eddie sighed. This is the one sticking point he had with Steve. Nancy Wheeler. “I know she was your ex, but you two seemed to put it past at the gang get togethers, so I thought you were okay. But obviously not and I don’t why.”

Steve looked up at him with tears glittering on his eyelashes. “Isn’t it enough for me to say that she hurt me as the reason?”

Eddie sighed and pulled Steve in close. Steve went, a little reluctantly, but he went. He finished his cigarette, tucked under his arm.

Robin came out just as they were finishing their cigarettes. She handed Eddie his credit card and sack that held the remains of their dinner in to go containers.

“Let’s go home.”

She led the way to the car and slipped into the driver’s seat.

Eddie paused when Steve got in the back. He shared a panicked look with Robin, before he got in on the side behind her. He slid all the way to the middle to wrap his arms around Steve.

Robin looked at them in the rearview mirror and sighed.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she said softly. “I know bringing her up upsets you and I do it anyway. First relationships are complicated and yours more then most.”

“Baby?” Eddie asked. “Why did you invite Jonathan and Nancy if being around them upset you this much?”

Steve was quiet for a moment. “Joyce told me I was being rude inviting Will and Mike, but not their older siblings and if I continued to snub them, she would stop Will from coming. And if Will didn’t come...”

“Mike wouldn’t come,” Eddie finished. “And if Mike didn’t come, neither would El, starting this chain reaction where it would be maybe the Sinclairs if they didn’t side with the others. Shit, baby, I had no idea.”

Steve shrugged.

“Uh uh,” Eddie said fiercely. “This is something that has been hurting you for years and we just ignored it. You have a right to be upset.”

“He’s right, Steve,” Robin said. “We made you feel like you couldn’t come to us with what you were feeling and I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t want to say anything because you didn’t have a lot of friends that were girls at the time and I felt like if I brought it up it would really splinter the group.”

Eddie kissed the top of his head.

The car lapsed into silence the rest of the way home. Robin pulled into their covered parking and turned off the ignition.

“What do you want me to do, dingus?” she asked softly. “If you don’t want me to bunk with her I won’t. You are more important to me than she is.”

“But what will you do until you find a place?” Steve asked in dismay.

“I’ll figure it out,” she said. “I can talk to my boss and see about getting temporary housing or if she knows a good cheap motel.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and decided to tell them the truth that had been weighing on him all these years.

“She told me she never loved me,” he whispered, “and that everything we had was bullshit.”

Robin whipped around in the front seat to stare at him in shock.

“She said what?!”

Eddie was twisting in his seat too. “Stevie...”

“I thought it was just a fight,” he continued. “But apparently she thought she was clear that we were through and slept with Jonathan like literally the next day.”

The silence in the car was deafening and Steve was starting to panic. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” He undid his seatbelt and struggled to get out of the car, but Eddie was still wrapped around him.

“No, baby,” Eddie murmured. “You really should have. You’ve been holding onto this pain, with the people you care about the most telling you to get over it.”

“This is so messed up,” Robin whispered in anguish. “Do you know what she says happened between you?”

Steve stopped struggling and shook his head.

“That you were just weren’t right for each other and went your separate ways,” Eddie said quietly.

Steve snorted. “That’s the most watered down, polite version of that she could have possibly said.”

“It also removes her from all responsibility from her actions,” Robin hissed. “I’m so angry right now!” She hit the steering wheel. “Fuck! I told Kendra I would be sleeping over there tonight, but all I want to do is call Nancy and bitch her out. Jesus fuck!”

Steve got out of the car and hurried to the driver’s side. He opened the door and pulled her out into a hug. “I appreciate you. I love you for being angry on my behalf. But go. Talk to Kendra, rant about it. But don’t call or text Nancy until tomorrow, okay? Not even drunk. Promise me?”

Robin sank into his arms and sighed. “I promise. But the fact that she kept lying about it and telling me that you were just bitter that she found someone else so soon just makes me so angry.”

Eddie got out and closed the door behind him. He walked around to the side of the car that they were standing on and leaned against the hood of the car with his arms and legs crossed.

“I feel like such a bad friend that we took what she said at face value,” he muttered darkly.

“Guys, no!” Steve protested. “I should have told you but I was so ashamed by the whole thing. We were together for two years and I didn’t know she didn’t love me? Like were there signs I missed, thinking everything was perfect? I just felt so stupid.”

“Do you need me to stay?” Robin asked. “Because I will. I’ll call Kendra right now and sleep over tomorrow.”

Steve shook his head. “I think I just need a tub of cookie dough ice cream, The Lizzy Bennett Diaries, and a bottle of wine tonight.”

She kissed his cheek fiercely. “I love you, dingus. Never forget that. Even when I’m in New York. Okay?”

He nodded and she squeezed him tightly before letting him go. She handed him back his keys and made her way up to their apartment.

“Do you want me to stay or go, babe?” Eddie asked, his voice cracking with emotion.

“You have that expensive hotel you’re paying for, Eds,” Steve said with a chuckle. “You should use it.”

Eddie deflated and nodded, looking away.

Steve walked up to him and kissed him deeply. “I forgive you both. I’m not mad, I’m just upset, and we are not through. You’ve got me for life, but I just need a night to myself, okay?”

Eddie let out a shuddering breath. “Yeah, okay, Stevie. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry tonight went down the way it did. That comment about rooting for Nancy and Jonathan was out of line even without the stuff you told us tonight. You deserve better than that.” He took Steve face in his hands. “And this is my promise: I will always strive to be your port in the storm, that now matter what comes your way, you can always depend on me to take your side.”

Eddie kissed him deeply. They said goodbye and Eddie was driving off when Robin came down the stairs with her overnight bag.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” she said tenderly.

Steve nodded. “Like I told Eddie, I forgive you guys, I just need time to sort out my feelings about everything. It’s been a crazy twenty four hours and I need to figure out what I want.”

Robin kissed his cheek and then said goodbye.

Steve watched her drive off with a sense of relief. Not because they were gone, but because the truth was out and he felt lighter for it.

****

Part 4 Part 5

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes

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gabessquishytum · 4 days

Note

So I just had a cursed dream (stress (?) Nightmare) that will probably haunt me for days to come and though it would make an excellent Dreamling prompt. (And no, I don't even have a crush on this coworker that featured in my dream. It was wild.)

Dream and Hob work on the same team. They've been slowly growing closer, chatting outside of work, ect. Dream mentions something off-hand in their messages during the work day, like telling Hob some facts about a piece of music or whatever (for me in my dream it had been a workout routine).

Hob types up some long message, confessing his feelings for Dream but doesn't plan on sending it. He scrolls up through the chat and in the process, accidentally hits send.

He's mortified. But then Dream starts typing. And then his message comes through, and it's Dream saying he would be lying if he said he didn't share the sentiment. And they talk in the chat, exchanging some more messages when suddenly there are people replying to the messages that aren't just Dream and Hob.

Well, whoopsies! Turns out what they thought was their normal DM chat with each other was actually a team group chat! So everyone's seen it. Everyone. Including their boss.

Dream's a ball of anxiety about it, worrying about being fired over the non-professionalism of it all. Meanwhile, Hob is just ecstatic that Dream likes him back.

(As some optional Angst/drama, the coworker I apparently confessed to in my dream was married, so maybe in the Dreamling version of this, Dream's married/dating someone (Thessaly? Just because I'd feel bad for Cali) and in his own confession mentions how he is married, he shouldn't feel this way, and yet the prospect of being with Hob has brought him more joy than his current relationship has, possibly ever.)

This is absolutely hilarious omg. If it happened to me in real life I would simply pass away though.

Dream is actively DYING of embarrassment. I like to imagine in this au that both he and Hob are a little older and they are now immediately being bullied by their gen-z colleagues for not realising they were in the group chat. Ha ha, very funny, Dream is totally not having a meltdown and considering quitting his job, changing his name and leaving the country forever. Meanwhile Hob is having a montage from a romcom in which he skips around the house in his pyjamas and flowers bloom wherever he steps.

For the angst factor either Dream IS in a relationship OR he goes into damage control mode and starts saying that it was all a prank and he doesn't like Hob at all, he assumed it would be obvious that someone like him would never lower his standards so far. Cue utter devastation for Hob as all his dreams collapse. He calls in sick to work, locks himself in his house and refuses to take any calls. Dream starts to think that he may have made a terrible mistake as he is shunned in the office and Hob won't even talk to him so he can't explain himself.

FINALLY Death drags Dream’s sorry ass over to Hob’s place and makes him stay there banging on the door until Hob finally answers, bleary eyed, bottom lip quivering. Dream’s carefully curated apology flies out of his brain and he's just clinging to Hob’s sweaty old t-shirt and begging for forgiveness. He's practically sobbing that he does like Hob, he's just stupid and scared and he's not used to things being good. He doesn't expect to get a second chance but he can't bear the idea of Hob being sad.

Fortunately, Hob is a great believer in the healing power of kisses. So he invites Dream inside. And a few hours later, the office groupchat gets a single picture of Hob being cuddled and snuggled by Dream as he deserves. All is right with the world <3

#kydrogendragon #the sandman #dreamling

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jarviscockerssecrethusband · 1 month

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One thing I love about the harringrove fandom is the agreement both that Steve is dyslexic and Billy is a MASSIVE reader.

Because while Steve’s always been surrounded by teachers or his parents or exes who either believe that he’s incapable of appreciating reading or that he just doesn’t care, Billy thinks that’s bullshit.

Because when Billy gets told to tutor Steve in English, he doesn’t start with a book for toddlers or fucking Shakespeare. They start with Billy reading him Wuthering Heights.

And at first Steve does not fucking get it. He doesn’t understand the plot, the message and especially not the dialect. But he finds himself enjoying it a lot. Billy’s a natural storyteller. He could be on stage.

Billy’s taste in books is both eclectic and weird. He’s reading Finnigan’s Wake for fun. In Irish. He likes Portuguese romance books and German surrealism and a lot of George Orwell. So much so that Steve kind of feels that love rubbing off on him.

He’d used to like reading. Before he was told he was doing it wrong. And even though he despised the books set by Hawkins High with every fibre of his being, there was this fire set in his belly, a want to impress Billy.

So he starts with The Hobbit. Eddie “Freak” Munson’s the only other dyslexic Steve knew and he loved that shit. How hard could it be?

The Hobbit is fucking difficult. It starts with a map, Steve thinks is in Elvish and some of the chapters feel like they go on forever. The words still bounce around the page and switch constantly. He likes it though. It’s weirdly fun as a story and he finds himself rooting for Bilbo.

Henderson can never know. That is the one thing Steve is certain of.

Billy doesn’t laugh when Steve tells him that’s what he’d decided to start with. He just rolls his eyes, not meanly and says he used to read that with his mom. Back in Cali. Before Neil fucked everything up.

Billy reads a lot of Oscar Wilde. The Importance of Being Earnest is constantly tucked into his back, dog eared and well loved. Steve knows enough about Oscar Wilde to know what that indicates.

Billy’s a poof. A faggot. A queer.

Billy is like Steve.

He doesn’t have the courage to look out for anything gay. Nothing even that hints at the matter. Steve knows that his dad has The Iliad tucked away in his office. He’s away on business while his mom sits in the kitchen and complains about America. Even after 15 years in the States, she still misses Poland.

His daring heist after she goes to bed leads to him sitting on the kitchen floor, crying about Achilles and Patroclus. Billy’s right, classics are a fucking bummer.

Steves not as stupid as other people think. He knows that if this were a book, him and Billy are hurtling towards deaths door. Even in real life, he’s seen the guys on tv, worn down to the bone on hospital beds.

Gay does not equal a happy ending.

He resolves to never touch The Iliad again.

Billy comes to their next session with a black eye and his mullet chopped off. They don’t talk about it.

1984 is depressing. And surprisingly apt for how Steve feels that his 1984 has gone. He does feel like he’s constantly being watched. Like being in love is illegal. Like saying anything too far against the government will have consequences.

Steve asks if Billy thinks Orwell wrote 1984 about America or Russia. Billy snorts but doesn’t answer.

That’s the note they end on for the year.

Christmas comes and goes. So does New Year. Two months of not seeing Billy aches in his gut.

Then he comes back.

It’s the middle of February. Billy’s been kicked out for a week. Steves playing nursemaid.

He’s beaten up pretty bad. Still, Billy insists he’s had worse.

Steve hedges around asking why it happened. Like the confirmation might suddenly make the full scope of their plight real.

Still, eventually Steve asks. Billy looks at him like he’s particularly simple.

He’s gay. Obviously Steve. And he actually has the balls to go out there, meet men, dance. Even if it does mean getting caught by Neil.

During his explanation, Steve notices they’ve gotten closer together. Like significantly closer.

They’re grazing hands. Electric.

Then Billy moves.

Billy kisses him and Steve’s world turns into a fucking supernova.

They kiss and it doesn’t make Neil vanish in a puff of smoke, it doesn’t make the shopkeepers who sneer at his mother go away, it doesn’t make Steve magically able to read.

But it does make Steve feel like maybe they’ll survive.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #dyslexic steve harrington #tw homophobic language #tw abuse

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ihni · 4 months

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It's @weird-an's birthday, so have a little Argilly (!) (yeah I know!) piece inspired by this post.

This piece is written to be read around the time they release season 5, because whatever shit they come up with to happen in Hawkins, our forgotten boys will just be living their best life in Cali.

~~~

Billy wakes up slowly, gaining awareness in increments. The softness of the sheet underneath him, the sounds of the traffic interspersed with voices coming from outside, the warmth of the air in the room and from the body behind him. Taking a deep breath, he stretches until his joints pop and then releases the air in a content sigh as he becomes boneless once again, turning around and snuggling up to the man behind him. Tucking his head in under the man’s chin, still without opening his eyes.

There’s a chuckle. Billy can feel the vibrations through the body he’s clinging to, and can’t help but smile.

“How long have you been awake?” he murmurs, and hums contentedly when a big hand splays out over the back of his head, scratching lazily at his nape.

“A while,” comes Argyle’s voice from close by, and Billy feels a gentle kiss on the crown of his head.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asks, then yawns.

“You’re cute when you sleep,” is the answer.

“I’m cute all the time.”

A laugh, and Billy can feel Argyle move as he nods. “Truth. But especially when you sleep. Also, we’re not in a rush. We can stay here all day, if we want.”

Billy starts to nod along, but then stops. Reluctantly blinks his eyes open. “Not all day. We’re meeting Tommy later, remember? You promised you’d show him all the best burger places in town.”

“Yeah but that’s not until the afternoon,” Argyle argues. “We have hours to go before then.” A pause. “You can go back to sleep, if you want.”

Billy considers. It’s still a luxury to be able to wake up at his own pace, and not have to hurry to get ready in the morning. It’s also not until recently that he has started sleeping through the night, with the nightmares being less frequent the longer he spends away from their source.

Two years. Two years since he clawed his way back to the real world, two years since he stopped having to sleep with one eye open, two years since fate – perhaps as an apology for everything it had put Billy through – brought Argyle to that godawful Indiana town. (No one could tell who was most surprised to see the other; Argyle, who had been told that Billy had died in a fire, or Billy, who hadn’t thought he’d ever get out of that hellish place at all. Their reunion was emotional and tearful and came as a shock to everyone else, who hadn’t even known that they knew each other. But honestly fuck everyone else.)

It has been two years now since Billy sat down in the passenger’s seat of Argyle’s van and went back to California without looking back; his only goodbye being a middle finger aimed at the ‘Leaving Hawkins’ sign as they passed, while Argyle’s hand rested on his thigh, gripping Billy’s other hand in his.

Two years later, and here Billy is, in bed with Argyle; his best friend, his lover, his Aggy. There are no monsters anymore, there is no Neil to be wary of. He is safe, he is warm, and he can go back to sleep if he wants.

Does he want that, though? He frowns. Something tickles his mind, like a half-forgotten memory. He dreamt something, he realizes, but trying to remember what it was is like trying to capture mist in his hands. It slips between his fingers like smoke, but still leaves him feeling vaguely uncomfortable.

Argyle, like always, notices. “What is it, Bee?” he asks, and hugs Billy closer. “Nightmare?”

“I don’t know,” Billy says, truthfully. “I don’t remember.”

Argyle hums. “You were moving around a lot. Talking in your sleep again.”

“Really?” Billy says. It’s been a while since he did that. “What did I say?”

“Just murmurs. No real words. You sounded kinda worried, though.”

“Hm. Well, I don’t remember.”

Billy rolls back a bit and puts his head on the pillow. He immediately misses Argyle’s warmth, but Argyle keeps his hand on the back of Billy’s head, playing with his hair, and at least this way he can look at Argyle’s face.

He’s beautiful. Big and strong and soft, with his sunshine smile that never fails to make Billy feel all warm inside and his long hair that somehow always looks perfect even right after waking, unlike Billy’s. There’s a mark on Argyle’s cheek from a crease in the pillow, and Billy wants to kiss it.

Argyle’s smile – widening at the sight of Billy, which will always be a thrill – is contagious, and Billy finds himself smiling too.

“’Mornin’, Aggy,” he says and leans forward to place a kiss on Argyle’s lips.

“’Mornin’, Bee,” Argyle replies and smiles into the kiss.

They lean their foreheads together and breathe for a while. Then Argyle stretches out too, like a big cat. Billy seizes his opportunity to plop himself on top of Argyle, who just laughs and puts his arms around him, pulling him closer. Chest against chest, Billy moves with Argyle’s expanding lungs as he inhales. It is soothing, and he tries to relax. But he doesn’t quite succeed – the remnants of the dream is still lurking in the back of his head.

Of course, Argyle notices. “Bee?” And of course, he knows what’s Billy’s thinking. “Do you think it’s got something to do with, you know, all that stuff from a couple of years ago?” He doesn’t even say ‘Hawkins’ out loud, because he knows how Billy feels about that town. It is just another reason to love him.

Billy wants to say no. Wants to reject it out loud, because all that is over. But that nagging feeling in his brain stops him. “I don’t know,” he admits. Argyle knows about the nightmares, about the dreams. He has met El after all, and knows what she can do – and he knows about the times, right after they got back to California, when Billy and El’s dreams merged. It has stopped now, thankfully. Or, he thought it did.

“Do you think something’s … wrong?” Argyle asks. His voice is neutral, but Billy knows him well. He knows what Argyle went through, too; what he had to see and live through on his way across the country two years ago.

And Billy decides, then and there, that “No. Nothing’s wrong.” Because they’ve had enough, him and Argyle. They’ve done their part. Billy has served his time; he paid the price, survived, got out and got away. The people they left back in Hawkins – none of whom cared enough about him to try to save him, by the way – could have left too. If they stayed around for the next wave of horror, that’s their choice.

Hawkins can burn to the ground, for all that Billy cares. If something’s about to go down there, Billy doesn’t want to be involved. Doesn’t even want to know about it.

“Okay,” Argyle says and pats Billy’s shoulder. As if he knows what Billy’s thinking. He probably does.

“And if it is,” Billy says, petulantly. Makes sure to say it out loud, so that the powers that be can hear his refusal. “If something is wrong .... If something goes down, back there? I don’t give a fuck.”

“Right on.” Argyle chuckles and kisses his curls. Hugs Billy even closer, trapping him against his chest and making him feel … small, and safe, and cared for. Something that Billy has only ever felt with Argyle, outside of when he was a child and his mother was still around. “Right on, my dude.”

Billy huffs out a laugh, but wrinkles his nose in distaste at the same time. “Don’t call me ‘dude’ in bed. It’s weird.”

“But you are my dude, dude.” Billy tilts his head back so he can glare at him. It’s hard to maintain a façade of annoyance in the face of Argyle’s sparkling eyes, but he manages through sheer force of will. “My little man.”

“Stop it.”

“My bro.”

“Aggy.”

“Brochacho.”

“I will literally kill you.” But despite his words, which are an obvious lie to the both of them, he cannot stop the smile that blooms on his face, or the blush that follows when Argyle laughs and peppers his face with kisses.

“Sure you will, dude.” Argyle sees straight through him. He always has.

That doesn’t mean that Billy will just take this kind of disrespect lying down. He struggles out of Argyle’s grip – only succeeding because Argyle lets him – and rolls and crawls with grunts and mutters to the edge of the mattress. He pushes off the bed and gets to this feet, uncaring of the fact that he’s naked, and cocks a hip to the side while he points at Argyle, who’s still sprawled out in bed, grinning. “Just for that, breakfast is on you.”

Argyle just keeps smiling, even as he leans forward and hooks his own finger around Billy’s, shaking his hand a little. And damn it, Billy is charmed. As always. “Sure thing, Bee. Cold pizza?”

“Leftovers? You call me ‘dude’ in bed, and I get leftovers?”

“Tasty, tasty leftovers, though.”

Tasty leftovers. Breakfast with his Aggy, after waking up in bed with his Aggy, in the apartment he shares with his Aggy.

A look to the window reveals blue skies with barely any clouds. The leaflets on the palm tree just outside moves gently in the breeze. Billy knows that if he opens the window, he will smell car exhausts from the road and Chinese food from the restaurant across the street and a hint of decomposing trash from the dumpster around the corner … and under all that, the salty air blowing in from the ocean, barely two blocks away.

Life is good.

He releases Aggy’s finger and takes his hand instead, pulls him up until he’s standing. Pokes him in the middle of his chest and raises his eyebrows as he looks up at him. “I want garlic sauce on mine.”

Argyle salutes – lazily, and with the wrong hand – and says, “You got it,” before pressing another kiss to Billy’s face – forehead, this time – and walking past him to get out the bedroom. Argyle’s not wearing anything either, and Billy watches appreciatively as his behind disappears around the corner.

Whatever might go down in Hawkins, it’s got nothing to do with him anymore – him or Aggy.

Life is good for them, now. He’s not trading this for anything.

And with that, he files the fragments of the dream away to be forgotten and follows Argyle out into the kitchen for a cold pizza breakfast.

~~~

(And yes, Tommy has moved there too because he deserves some kind of appearance as well, so I'll just headcanon that he and Carol maybe have moved out there and is finding their feet out in the real world. He's gonna become fast friends with Billy and Argyle and become a cook or something.)

#ihni writes #argilly #argyle #billy hargrove #argyle stranger things #argilly fic #cali bros #i don't know if it counts as bros if they're together though #hmmm #a conundrum #oh well #happy birthday an :)

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beaulesbian · 2 years

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I think we need to talk more about Dustin’s shirt

in the same video that talks about Mike’s airport outfit, they also talk about Dustin’s shirt:

There’s someone on a horse with a sword, looking very heroic. there’s a wizard under the dragon, possibly casting spells at it.

Also how the fire connect from the person on the horse to the back of the shirt to the dragon, and to the mage under the dragon, on the other side..

So he has on the shirt basically their party, fighting a fire breathing dragon. Which could be another clue for foreshadowing.

A giant creature - possibly a dragon?

Which we saw already something similar on Will’s painting.

It’s interesting how the shirt design is a bit different from the painting. It’s only Will/the mage on the side with the dragon, and the rest of the party, with the castle is on the front (Hawkins vs Cali? far away from home?)

On the painting it’s Lucas who is on the horse, but we also know Lucas is the ranger and could be the one with the bow and arrows on the shirt (also bc he had that wrist rocket/slingshot), so it’s interesting Will painted him with sword and a shield (- a shield that has colors blue and yellow)

one more detail I like on the shirt is the pocket:

there’s a Castle.. on the pocket over a heart. (Castle Byers? It’s drawn with same/similar colors as the mage on the back of the shirt.)

and this show already has an interesting way of putting some details into pockets over hearts:

edit: and yes, on the shirt it looks like from the person on the horse has the fire bursting from the sword, and then the fire connects with the fire from the dragon. so especially if that person is a paladin and wields a flaming sword, that’d be really cool.

and at the center of the dragon there is a image as if the spell from the mage struck the chest of the dragon.

edit 2:

#thoughts?#i just love the ever small details even in the wardrobe and costumes #stranger things #byler #mine #stranger things theory #stranger things meta #dustin henderson #will byers #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #long post

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dianawinchester03 · 1 month

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Season 1, Episode 9 - Home

Series Masterlist

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

________________________________

Y/N's POV

Fire blasting and burning down a house.

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

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

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

People screaming for mercy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you mean you don't know?" I ask him frustrated. "Dean. You found me on the floor last night crying. It was because I dreamt that! Exactly what Sam saw, I did too!" I exclaim and he looks at me shocked. "I felt the pain, the misery, the anguish, everything. As if I was there" I tell him, tears forming in my eyes. Don't be a little bitch y/n, tough it out.

"This woman might be in danger. I mean this might even be the thing that killed our moms and Jessica!" Sam exclaims. "Alright. Just slow down would you?!" Dean yells, getting up from the bed and walking over to the desk. "I mean, first you tell me you two have got the Shining and then you tell me that I've gotta go back home. Especially when..." Deans voice is shaky as he trails off.

"When what?" Sam asks. "When I swore to myself that I would never go back there" Dean says sadly and my heart drops. I didn't even think about that. Dean saw everything that happened to his mom that night and then heard about everything that happened to mine. Of course he wouldn't want to go back. Gosh I feel so stupid and selfish now.

"Dean..." I say softly. "I'm sorry, I didn't think of it like that" I apologize, putting my hand on his shoulder comfortingly and he looks down sadly. "Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure" Sam pleads. And he looks back at Sam with anguish in his eyes, then back at me he sighs. "I know we do" He says understandably.

________________________________

The boys and I pull up to their old house, by just the look on Deans face you can tell it's already hard enough on him. "You gonna be alright, charming?" I ask him softly, concerned. "Let me get back to you on that, Princess" He says quickly, staring at the house.

We all exit the Impala and walk towards the house. I take the initiative to knock on the door and after a couple seconds a young blonde woman answers it...the same woman from my dream. My breath hitches in my throat when she comes into view and I notice Sam is taken back by it too. Holy fuck it was real.

"Yes?" She asks us sweetly after opening the door. "Sorry to bother you, ma'am. But uh we're with the Federal-" Dean goes to lie but Sam cuts him off. "I'm Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean and our best friend Y/N L/N. Umm...we used to live here. Y/N used to live down the block" Sam says, I notice the look of panic on Deans face when Sam spills the beans.

"You know, we were just driving by and the boys were wondering if we could come and see the old place" I say sweetly. "Winchester and L/N....Yeah that's so funny. You know I think I found some of your photos the other night" The woman says with a smile on her face. "You did?" Dean asks shocked.

She looks at us hesitantly for a second before inviting us in. "Okay, come on in" She opens the door wider and we all look at each other with a pleasant smile on our faces towards her and enter. She introduced herself as Jenny as we follow into the kitchen behind her to see a toddler boy, no older than 3, in his crib bouncing up and down chanting.

The second I entered, I felt a heavy sense in the house. I could feel a weight on my chest, like I couldn't breath when I entered. It felt dark, evil, brooding...I couldn't explain it but it wasn't good whatsoever. Maybe I'm just being paranoid.

"Juice, Juice, Juice" and a young girl probably around 10, seemingly doing homework at the kitchen dining table. "That's Richie. He's kind of a juice junkie." She introduces her son, going into the locked fridge and getting a sippy cup with juice.

"But hey. At least he won't get scurvy" He smiles at him, giving him his juice. "Sari, this is Sam, Dean and Y/N. Sam and Dean used to live here." Jenny tells her young daughter, Sari, at the dining table. "Hi" Sari says with a pleasant smile on her face. "Hey, Sari" I say sweetly while Sam and Dean wave at her.

"So you just moved in?" Dean asks. "Yeah. From Wichita" Jenny informs us. "You got family here, or..?" I ask curiously. "No, I just..uh..um..needed a fresh start, that's all" She stummers on her words as we nod. "So new town, new job— I mean, as soon as I find one. New house" She says with an awkward smile.

I look at the corner of my eye to see an unease but sad smile on Deans face. "So, how are you liking it so far?" Sam asks. She turns to us a bit unsure, "Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home...I mean, I'm sure you have lots of happy memories here...but this place has its issues" She puts it vaguely.

"What do you mean?" I ask concerned. "Well, it's just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights almost hourly." She explains and that sets alarms off in my head. "Well, that's too bad. What else?" Dean asks. "Um...Sinks backed up. There's rats in the basement" Jenny further informs us and Deans frown deepens.

She realizes how it might sound and quickly apologizes, "Im sorry. I don't mean to complain" She says sincerely but he smiles reassuringly. "No. Have you see the rats or have you just heard scratching?" Dean asks. "It's just the scratching, actually" She says lowly. "Mom?" Sari calls Jenny over.

"Ask them if it was here when they lived here" Sari says and our faces drop. "What, Sari?" Sam asks her. "The thing in my closet" She says. "Oh, no, baby. There was nothing in their closets. Right?" Jenny tries to convince Sari and herself, turning to us for back up. "Right. No, no, of course not" I tell Sari nicely with a smile on my face.

"She had a nightmare the other night" Jenny tells us. "I wasn't dreaming. It came into my bedroom and it was on fire" Sari insists and the boys and I share bewildered looks.

We're now walking out of their old house and as soon as we left, the feeling I was getting when we entered the house was gone. I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding. I've never felt this was on other hunts before, I can't tell why I felt like that in Sam and Deans old house. It makes no sense.

"You hear that? A figure on fire" Sam says a bit panicked as we leave the house, walking down the porch. "And that woman, Jenny, that was the women from your dreams?" Dean asks us. "Yeah" I confirm, "And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights. Both signs of a malevolent spirit" I list off as we walk towards the car.

"Yeah, well. I'm just freaked out that the two of you guys weirdo visions are coming true" Dean says roughly and I roll my eyes. "Thanks" I grumble sarcastically and his face drops when he remembers that my mom was psychic. "Y/N I'm so-" He goes to apologize but I cut him off. "Forget about that for a second" I say bluntly.

"The thing in the house, you think its the thing that killed our moms and Jessica?" Sam asks. "I don't know" Dean says frustrated. "Well, I mean. Has it come back or has it been there the whole time?" I ask. "Or maybe it's something else entirely guys. We don't know yet" Dean argues. "Well, those people are in danger, Dean. We have to get them out of that house" Sam defends.

"And we will." Dean says and goes to go into the car but I stop him, "No, we mean now" I argue. "And how you gonna do that huh? You got a story that she'll believe!?" Dean gets into my face and argues back. "Then what are we supposed to do?!" I yell frustrated, taking a deep breath.

________________________________

"We just need to chill out, that's all" Dean tells us as he filled up Baby with fuel. We're all at a gas station, Sam outside leaning against the car next to me while I'm smoking a cigarette. "If this was any other kind of job, what would we do?" I ask as I take one last drag from my cigarette before flicking it on the ground and crushing it with the heel of my boot.

Sam takes a deep breath, rubbing his hands together. "We'd try to figure out what we were dealing with. We'd dig into the history of the house." He answers, walking over to Dean who's by the trunk. "Exactly, except this time we already know what happened" Dean says. "Yeah but how much do we even know? How much do you actually remember?" I ask Dean gently, walking over to them and leaning against the trunk next to Sam.

"About that night you mean?" He asks. "Yeah" Sam says and Dean shakes his head. "Not much. I remember the fire. The heat...." Dean says taking a deep breath, reminiscing on the events of the unfaithful night. I could see the flash of emotions as he talks about it. "....then I carried you out the front door" Me and Sam head snap up when Dean says this.

"You did?" Sam asks surprised. "Yeah. Why. You never knew that?" Dean says casually. "No" Sam shakes his head. "And, uh, well you know Dad and Mr. L/N's stories as well as I do. Mom was...was on the ceiling. And so was Mrs. L/N. Whatever put them there was long gone by the time our dads found them" Dean says trying to suppress his emotions.

I just stare at the floor as he talks about it. A lump growing in my throat. I never knew my mom obviously. Granted neither did Sam. Hell, Dean knew my mom more than me. Dean used tell me about when he was little, my mom and dad used to babysit him every so often whenever John and Mary needed the assistance.

He always loved being around my mom because apparently she used to make him pie. Apple pie, his favorite. She used to sneak him slices to carry home because his mom didn't want him eating too much sweets. From what I can tell, they shared a really close bond.

He absolutely adored her and I can tell that when he found out the same thing happened killed my mom, it truly affected him. He lost two mother figures in a span of a couple months, I may have never known my mom but by the stories I've heard. I know she was an amazing woman that I'd wish to be like someday.

"And they never had any theories about what did it?" Sam asks Dean. "If they did, they kept it between themselves" Dean says, turning around to lean against baby with us, me in the middle of the boys. "God knows we asked them enough times" I scoff. "Okay, so if we're gonna figure out what's going on now...we have to figure out what happened back then...and see if it's the same thing" Sam says.

"Yeah. We'll talk to our dads friends, neighbors. People who were there at the time" Dean says nodding. "Does this feel like just another job to you fellas?" I ask ironically. Sam chuckles dryly but Dean doesn't answer. Taking it into thought before excusing himself, "I'll be right back, I gotta go to the bathroom" He says walking away.

"Yeah, me too" I say to Sam, walking towards the bathroom. I'm just a couple feet behind Dean, when I bend the corner I see him dialing a number into his phone and put it to his ear. "Dad....I know I've left you messages before. I've left F/N messages and so have Y/N. I don't even know if you get them" He clears his throat lightly.

"But I'm with Sam and Y/N. And we're in Lawrence...and there's something in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not...but.." He trails off before taking a deep breath. "I don't know what to do" His voice cracks when he says this and my heart sinks in my chest. I could just cry hearing the way he sounds so defeated. "So, whatever you and Mr. L/N are doing. If you two could just get here....Please" He pleads.

"I need your help, Dad" He finishes, sounding like he's in the verge of tears before hanging up the phone. He turns around to see me, his face dropping probably at the fact I just heard everything. "Dean..." My tone is sad, concerned and soft. As I say this, his head drops and it's like the dam broke and he couldn't hold back his tears.

I rush over to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, his arms wrap around my waist. I pull him close as he buries his face into my hair on the side of my neck sobbing. "Hey shhhh, it's okay darling. I've got you" I coo soothingly into his ear while he sobs softly, his body trembling. "We'll find them, I promise. Okay?" I pull away and take his face in-between the palm of my hands.

"I promise" I say again, a little more firmly. He nods weakly as I wipe away some of his tears with my thumb before pressing a kiss to his cheek and holding him again tightly. "I'm here, just let it out" I say softly as I rub my fingers in his hair.

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"So you, John Winchester and F/N L/N. You guys used to own this garage a long time ago?" Dean asks Guenthur. After calming down and leaving the gas station. We all decided to go to our dads' old garage they owned together with an old friend of theirs and ask him a couple questions. "Yeah, we used to. A long time ago" Guenthur says chuckling a bit, he then turns to us wiping his hands with his rag.

"Matter of fact, it must be 20 years since John and F/N disappeared. So why are the cops interested all of a sudden?" He asks us suspiciously. "Oh, we're reopening unsolved cases. The Winchester and L/N disappearances are a couple of them, seeing as they're closely related" I say professionally and the boys nod along in agreement.

"Well, what do you wanna know about John and F/N" Guenthur asks us. "Whatever you remember, you know? Whatever sticks out in your mind" Dean says. "Well, he was a stubborn bastard, I remember that. And F/N was a bit of a dick but boy that man could put down in a drinking contest" He tells us chuckling and we all chuckle along with him.

"And whatever the game, John hated to lose, you know? It was that whole marine thing. And F/N, despite whatever he had a heart of gold. He had this tough way about him, you know he's seen some shit" Guenthur chuckles and I nod along listening. "They sure loved their wives. Mary and M/N. And they dotted on their kids" He says.

I see Dean's face drop again at the mention of our moms. "But that was before the fires?" I ask. "That's right" Guenthur confirms. "They ever talk about what happened those nights?" Sam asks. "No. Not at first. I think they were in shock." He tells us. "Right. But eventually. What did they say about it?" I ask.

"They weren't thinking straight. John kept saying something caused that fire and killed Mary." Guenthur says. "They ever say what did it?" Dean asks. "Nothing did it. It was an accident. An electrical short in the ceiling or walls or something" Guenthur assures us. "I begged F/N to get him some help instead he bought into it and uh...." Guenthur explains to us and trails off, looking down.

"And what?" I insist. "Well they just got worse and worse" He tells us. "How?" Dean asks. "Oh, they started reading these strange old books that F/N had. F/N took him to this palm reader in town that was friends with M/N" He told us and Dean looks over at me. "Palm reader? Do you have a name?" He asks him. "No" Guenthur scoffs.

________________________________

Later we're by a pay phone and Sam's going through the phone book while Dean and I lean against baby. "So there are a few psychics and palm readers in town." Sam tells us. "There's uh, someone named El Divino. There's the mysterious Mr. Fortensky." He says the last part chuckling.

"Uh, Missouri Mosley. Some dude named—" He goes to continue but Dean cuts him off. "Wait wait. Missouri Mosley?" Dean asks. "What?" Sam asks confused. "That's a psychic?" He further questions. "Yeah. Yeah I guess so." Sam says and Dean gets off of baby and opens the backdoor, grabbing John's journal.

"Dad journal. Come here look at this" He tells us as he opens it and we walk over to take a look. "First page. First sentence. Read that." He hands me the book and Sam stands next to me. "I went to Missouri and I learned the truth. What F/N was telling me was true" I read out loud off the page and look back up at the boys.

"I always thought he meant the state" Dean says.

________________________________

After we found Missouri's shop location in the phone book. It wasn't too far so we hopped into baby and headed on over. Now sitting in the waiting area, a dark skinned middle aged woman comes out talking to a middle aged man.

"Don't you worry about a thing. Your wife is crazy about you" She assures the man, smiling. "Well, thank you" The man thanks her and leaves. When he leaves she looks at us and takes a deep breath, "Poor bastard. His woman is cold banging the gardener" She tells us and I cock my eyebrow at this.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asks and she turns to us. "People don't come here for the truth. They come here for good news" She tells us bluntly. "Well. Sam, Dean and Y/N, come on already. I ain't got all day" She says a bit annoyed and we sit there stunned. Guess she really is a psychic.

We follow behind her into what looks like her office. "Well, let me look at you" She smiles laughing. "You boys grew up handsome" She compliments them. "And you, Y/N. Oh you look just like your mother. As beautiful as ever" She says sincerely to me, a bit of tears in her eyes. "Thank you" I say softly.

She smiles at me and then turns to Dean. "And you were one goofy looking kid too" She turns to Dean laughing while me and Sam snicker. "You ain't wrong there" I mutter and Deans head snaps on my direction, giving me a slight glare. I scrunch my nose at him before flashing him a wink and he rolls his eyes scoffing, Missouri's eyes glances between us for a couple seconds with a sly smirk on her face.

She then takes Sam's hand with a smile, "Sam. Oh, honey" She gasps sadly, her smile dropping. Sam seems a bit weirded out by this. "I'm sorry about your girlfriend" She tells him sincerely. "And your fathers. They're missing?" She asks us and we're all surprised, taken back at her accuracy.

"How'd you know all that?" Sam asks. "Well...you were just thinking it just now" She tells us. "Where are they? Are they okay?" Dean asks concerned. "I don't know" She tells us. "Don't know? You're supposed to be a psychic, right?" Dean asks a bit annoyed. "Boy, you see me sawing some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician?!" She exclaims annoyed while Dean looks like a little boy being scolded by his parent.

Me and Sam stifle our laughter at Dean being told off. "I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please" She orders us, gesturing to some chairs and the boys take a seat. I don't hold back my laughter anymore. "I like you Ms. Moseley" I smile at her and she flashes me a grin. "Please. Call me Missouri" She says and I sit inbetween the boys.

"Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm gonna whack you with a spoon!" She suddenly snaps at Dean and he freezes. "I didn't do anything" He says defensively. "Well, you were thinking about it" She shoots back and he looks at us before shrugging. Me and Sam smile at the sight and stifle our laughter.

"Okay. So our dads. When did you first meet them?" Sam asks her. "They came for a reading. A couple months after Mary died, it was also a few days after M/N died" She says sadly, tears welling up in her eyes. "F/N referred him to me because M/N was a good friend of mine. I just convinced John about what was really out there in the dark because he wouldn't believe F/N. I guess you could say, I helped draw back the curtains for him" She explains to us.

"What about the fires?" Dean asked. "Do you know about what killed our moms?" I ask. "A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hoping I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing" She tells us. "And could you?" Sam asks and she shakes her head. "I don't..." She hesitates.

"What was it?" I ask shakily. "I don't know." She says. "Ohhhhh....but it was evil" Her voice goes low and my breath hitches. Missouri looks at me and narrows her eyes. "You felt it didn't you?" She asks me and I look down. I notice the boys heads snap over at me shocked. "I don't know what I felt. But it wasn't good" I say.

"So what? Y/N's psychic too?" Dean pipes up. "No" "Possibly" Me and Missouri say at the same time. "It's not possible" I shake my head. "I would've known by now" I say firmly and Missouri frowns. "There are such a thing as late bloomers. It is possible Y/N. You could be unintentionally blocking your abilities on your own" She tells me.

"How?" Sam asks. "I can't say. Only Y/N would know" She says gently, looking at me. I shake my head and I notice the boys give me a sympathetic look. "So, you think somethings back in that house?" Missouri asks us changing the subject which I am grateful for. "Definitely" Sam says nodding.

"I don't understand" Missouri sighs. "What?" I ask. "I haven't been back inside but I've been keeping an eye on the place and it's been quiet. They never rebuilt F/N's old house. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it acting up now?" She questions.

"I don't know. But our dads going missing and Jessica dying and now this house....all happening at once, it just feels like something is starting" Sam replies and I nod in agreement. "That's a comforting thought" Dean says sarcastically.

________________________________

We convinced Missouri to come with us back to Sam and Dean's old house to take a look at the place. Now knocking at the front door, Jenny answers with her son Richie on her hip. "Sam, Dean, Y/N" She breathes out a bit relieved, looking like she was just frightened. "What're you doing here?" She asks us.

"Hey, Jenny." Sam says softly. "Um, this is our friend, Missouri" Sam introduces Missouri. "If it's not too much. We were hoping to show her the old house. You know? For old times sake" Dean says nicely as Missouri smiles at Jenny who looks at us a bit awkwardly.

"You know what? This isn't a good time" Jenny denies and goes to close the door. "Listen Jenny, it's important- OW!" Dean tries to budge but Missouri smacks him upside his head. "Give the poor girl a break. Can't you see she's upset?" Missouri snaps at him while Sam and I bit back our laughter.

"Forgive this boy. He means well. He's just not the sharpest tool on the shed. But hear me out" Missouri turns to Jenny, pleading with her nicely while Dean glares at her. Sam and I are shocked by this but try to stifle back our snickers. "About what?" Jenny asks, exasperated.

"About this house" Missouri states. "What're you talking about?" Jenny asks us but I get the sense she knows more than she's letting on. "I think you know what she's talking about" I chime in, giving her a knowing look and she looks down guiltily. Missouri flashes me a small smile before turning to Jenny.

"You think there's something in this house. Something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?" Missouri adds and Jenny takes a deep panicked breath. "Who are you?" She asks us. "We're people who can help. Who can stop this thing. But you're gonna have to trust us just a little" Missouri says calmly and Jenny hesitates a little bit before obliges, letting us in.

"If there's a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it" Missouri says as we walk into Saris room. "Why?" Sam asks. "This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened" She informs us. Sam looks visibly nervous, his Adam's apple bobs as he takes a look around the room.

As I look around the room I could feel the darkness surrounding the room that I felt earlier, this time. It's a lot heavier, more potent. It didn't feel like just one thing. It felt like there's a ton of dark shit in here and it's not letting up easily.

Dean seems a bit nervous too as he pulls out his EMF meter, powering it up. Missouri turns to him and asks, "That an EMF?" He looks up, "Yeah" He responds. "Amateur" She scoffs and he glares at her a bit. She walks around the room, touching various items and Deans EMF goes off a bit, the red lights and noise blurring.

"I don't know if you kids should be disappointed or relieved but this ain't the thing that took your moms" She tells us and we're all stunned. "Are you sure? How do you know?" Sam asks shakily. "It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It's something different" She explains to us.

"What is it?" Dean asks and she walks over to the closet, opening it. It felt like a flash of energy just came out of it as she opened it. "Not it. Them. There's more than one spirit in this place" Missouri states and I gasp lowly. "You felt it too didn't you. Don't deny it" She turns to me.

"I-" I stutter on my words, not able to explain. I can't be psychic. I just shrug, not looking her in her eyes that are narrowed in my direction."What're they doing here?" Dean asks. "They're here because of what happened to your family" She says, walking back to us. "You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walks this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes wounds get infected." She explains.

"I don't understand" Sam says. "This place is a magnet for paranormal energy" She elaborates and turns looking around the room. "It's attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead" Missouri says morbidly and I feel a pain in my chest. "You said there was more than one spirit" I say.

She turns to me and nods in confirmation. "There is" She says and walks back into the closet. "I just can't quite make out the second one" Missouri says and asks me. "Can you?". I struggle to answer. "I don't know. But all I know is this don't feel good at all" I say shakily. "Well one things for damn sure. Nobody's dying in this house ever again" Dean states firmly.

"So whatever is here, how do we stop it?" He asks Missouri.

________________________________

We're all now sitting downstairs in Jenny's living room and Missouri set out a bunch of stuff on the table. "So what is all this stuff anyway?" Dean asks curiously as he sits by the table. I'm sitting next to him, my chair turned backwards with me straddling it and Sam standing next to me, leaning against the table with his hands.

"Angelica Root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt. A few other odds and ends" She lists off, pointing at each item. "Yeah? What are we supposed to do with it?" I ask. "We're gonna put them inside the walls, in the north, south, east, west corners on each floor of the house" Missouri explains.

"We're gonna be punching holes in the drywall, Jenny's gonna love that" Dean replies with sarcasm, looking at me and Sam. "She'll live" Missouri retorts. "And this will destroy the spirits?" Sam asks. "It should. It should purify the house completely" Missouri responds with a nod.

"We'll each take a floor. But we work fast. Once the spirits realize what we're up to....things are gonna get bad" She warns us.

We got Jenny to leave the house for a couple hours so we can work on the house. Missouri is outside escorting her to her car. Sam's takes upstairs, while Missouri takes the basement and Dean and I took the kitchen. Dean pulls out an axe and starts breaking the wall with it, putting the bag inside....just like my dream....if it's true then that means...

"Holy shit" I gasp. "What?" Dean asks me concerned. "You breaking the wall. I dreamt that. And I dreamt Sam getting strangled with a cord" I tell him quickly. "Duck!" I yell and pull him to the ground. The knife was flying towards us, it stabs the cupboard above us.

We grab a table, knocking it down and using it as a shield, knives stabbing through it. "You dreamt me getting stabbed too, didn't you?" He asks me and I nod quickly. "Oh shit. Sam!" I gasp, realization takes over Deans face and we bolt upstairs.

We run into the room to see Sam on the ground with the cord wrapped around his neck, gasping for breath. "Sam!" Dean exclaims, he tries to pull the cord off, grunting but it wouldn't budge. I see the bag with the stuff Missouri gave us to put in the walls next to Sam.

I take it up and kick a hole in the wall which part Sam was supposed to put and and chuck it in the hole. Suddenly a blast of white light takes over the house, temporarily blinding us. I cover my head with my arms and Dean does the same.

I rush over to Sam to see the cord has loosen. He takes a deep breath, catching his breath and we pull it out from around his neck, holding him up. I sigh in relief as I hold my best friend in my arms. Dean lets out a sigh too, holding his little brother.

________________________________

Later we're all back downstairs in the kitchen, that's in quite the mess. "You sure this is over?" I ask Missouri. "I'm sure" she says, turning to me. "Why? Why do you ask?" She questions. "Never mind. It's nothing I guess" I say and we hear the front door open and close.

I'm still a bit unsure about this whole thing, the place still feels a bit heavy but maybe I'm just being paranoid. I notice Sam seems uneasy about it too but he chooses not to say anything. The light turns on, "Hello, we're home" Jenny announces her presence, walking in with Richie on her hip and holding Saris hand.

She looks around in shock at the mess the place is in. "What happened?" She asks us worried. "Hi. Sorry uh. We'll pay for all of this" Sam apologizes and I notice Dean look at him like 'We will?'. "Don't you worry. Deans gonna clean up this mess" Missouri tells her and his eyebrows cock up at this.

"Well, what are you waiting for boy? Get the mop" She orders him in a motherly tone and he goes to walk off. "And don't cuss at me" She snaps and he turns back surprised. I hold back a snicker at his reaction as he goes to get the mop, mumbling to himself angrily. I chuckle at the interaction, my heart swelling a bit at the cute look in Deans face when he's mumbling like a child.

He's so freaking adorable. Wait. What? I think to myself. Missouri head snaps to me when I have this thought, a sly look on her face and she flashes me a wink. I look at her confused and she comes closer to me and whispers, "You'd be surprised at what he thinks of you". I cock my eyebrow in confusion and she shakes her head in amusement.

We all leave the house after cleaning up in a orderly fashion, turning back to Jenny and waving at her as we leave.

________________________________

"Alright so tell me again. What are we still doing here?" Dean asks us a bit annoyed. We're all outside of their old house in the Impala. "I don't know. I-I just uh-" I stutter on my words. "We still have a bad feeling" Sam pipes up. "Why?" Dean asks up exasperated. "Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubinstein thing. The house should be clean. This should be over" He adds turning to us.

"Yeah. Well, probably. But we just wanna make sure. That's all." I tell him and he sighs, leaning back in his seat. "Yeah, well. Problem is. I could be sleeping in a bed right now" Dean groans. I look at the window to Jenny's room, she's banging on her window and it looks like she's screaming "Help!".

I nudge Sam roughly. "Sam. Dean!" I exclaim and we all rush out of the car. "You two grab the kids. I'll get Jenny!" He tells us as we run up the porch and knock the front door down. I run into Richies room and grab him, holding him to my chest. "Help! Please!" I hear screaming from Saris room.

When I run in I see Sam standing stunned at the door, what looks like a figure of a man in bursting flames while Sari is on her bed screaming for help. Sam rushes in and I hold Richie to my chest, clutching him closely. "Come here. Come here. Don't look. Don't look" He goes in and gets Sari, picking her up on his hip and we all run downstairs.

Sam rests down Sari and I rest down Richie when we get downstairs. "Alright. Sari. Take your brother outside as fast as you can. Don't look back okay, sweetie?" I tell her gently. Suddenly something grabs me and Sam by our feet, pulling up down the hall causing Sari to scream. Grabbing her brother she runs outside where Dean and Jenny should be.

The force pulls us, dragging us across the hall and into the kitchen, knocking us into the table. The force throws us all across the room, into the fridge, into the wall, across the floor, into the counter, like we're rag dolls. Me and Sam groan in pain getting to our feet.

We hear the door getting knocked doing, assuming it's Dean we go to bolt for the door but the force grabs us again, throwing us into the wall and we grunt in pain. "God dammit!" I scream, trying to pull out of the force as Sam does the same but fails while screaming.

The door finally breaks and we hear Dean yell, "SAM! Y/N!". But the flaming figure that we saw in Sari's room earlier appears again in front of us, making its way slowly to us. Our faces contort in pure fear. I look at the figure properly, my heart beating out of its chest when it comes into view clearly.

It was familiar...too familiar. A face I only saw in old pictures. "What the fuck?" Sam whispers stunned. "No fucking way" I breath out in shock. "Sam? Y/N?" We hear Deans footsteps and voice in the house. When he walks into room and aims his gun at the figure, ready to shoot.

"No! Don't! Don't!" Me and Sam yell for him to stop. "What? Why?!" Dean yells back in confusion. "Because we know who it is" Sam says. "We can see her now" I say and the figure diminishes the fire to reveal...Mary. Sam and Deans mom. Dean lowers his gun in shock, fear, confusion. "Mom?" Dean says softly. Mary takes a few steps closer to him with a small smile on her face.

"Dean" She says sweetly and tears well up in Deans eyes. She then walks over to Sam who has breathing is rugged but smiles tearfully looking at his mother. "Sam" She says softly and then turns to me, the smile growing wider on her face. "Y/N" She says nicely, tears welling up in her eyes when she turns back to Sam.

"I'm sorry" She says apologetically to him, tears streaming down both our faces. "For what?" Sam asks tearfully and she doesn't answer, she just has this look of guilt on her face. She then turns and looks up to where Sams nursery was. "You get out of my house. And let go on my son and his best friend" She demanding tone.

Right after she says this, flames engulf her own body and the burst of flames fly up to the ceiling. The boys and I try to turn our heads away but we're too stunned by what's happening. After that, the force that was pinning us to the wall falters and we're free.

The weight on my chest that I felt earlier was suddenly gone. The brooding darkness that was there, erased. We look around, gasping for breath. "Mom?" Dean whispers, looking around. Sam and I walk forwards from against the wall, "Now it's over" I say to the boys nodding.

________________________________

The next day after the events in their old house, the boys and I are outside by the Impala and Jenny hands Dean some of the old pictures she found of their family. There's one with a young John and Mary, one with my parents when they were young, another with all of our parents, one with a four year old Dean holding 6 month old Sam and another with Dean holding a 6 month old me.

Dean smiles at the photo and looks at Jenny, "Thanks for these" He says gratefully. "Don't thank me, they're yours" She responds with a smile. He hands me the picture and I put it in a box with their old stuff, I walk back up to the steps by the front door where Sam is sitting and I take a seat next to him, leaving Jenny and Dean to talk.

"Well, there are no spirits in there anymore" Missouri tells us as she exits the front door. "This time for sure" She assures us confidently, taking a seat next to me. "Not even my mom?" Sam asks. "No" Missouri says softly, shaking her head and Sam nods. "What happened?" I ask her.

"Mary's spirt and the poltergeist's energy, they cancelled each other out" She explains to us and then looks at Sam. "Your mom destroyed herself going after the thing" Missouri says sadly. "Why would she do something like that?" Sam asks tearfully. "Well to protect her boys and their best friend, of course" She assures us and we nod with tears in our eyes.

"Sam...Y/N, I'm sorry" She apologizes. "For what?" Sam asks a bit confused. "You two sensed it here, didn't you? Even when I couldn't" She tells us. "What's happening to us?" Sam asks. "I know I should have all the answers but....I don't know" Missouri says honestly. "Am I psychic like my mom?" I ask her shakily.

"It's possible. Very possible. Even if you don't want the gift, it's yours to bear. Only time will tell" She says softly, I drop my head nodding."Sam, Y/N. You guys ready?" We hear Dean call out to us. We get up and walk towards the Impala. "Thanks Sam and Y/N" Jenny thanks us and we give her a nod.

"Don't you kids be strangers" Missouri calls out to us. I turn to her with a small smile on my face. "We won't" Dean says smiling back at her. "See you around" She says and Jenny gives us a small wave. We hop into Baby, Sam in shotgun and me in the back, Dean starts the ignition and we're off.

________________________________

Third Person POV

Missouri enters her shop, closing the door behind her. She feels presences in her home, resting her bag down she sighs. "That boy and that girl. I mean, they have such powerful abilities. Why they couldn't sense their own fathers, I have no idea" She says, turning around in the seats where Sam, Dean and Y/N were earlier is John Winchester and F/N L/N in their place.

John takes his face out of his hands and looks at Missouri. "Mary's spirit? Do you really think she saved the kids?" John asks her, clasping his hands infront of him. "I do" Missouri confirms and John looks down at his wedding band tearfully.

"And M/N's spirit. Was she there at all?" F/N asks a bit hopefully but Missouri shakes her head. "I can assure you, she's resting peacefully. I've made note of that" She assures him, tears in her eyes thinking of her deceased friend. "John Winchester and F/N L/N I could just slap you two. Why don't you two go talk to your children?!" She angrily shouts at the grown men.

"We want to" F/N says shaking his head, John still looking down at his wedding band tearfully. "You have no idea how much we wanna see them. But we can't" John says, looking up. "I just want to see my little girl, and give her a hug. But not yet" F/N says, holding back tears. They both look over at Missouri.

"Not until we know the truth" John says, determined.

________________________________

Authors Note: This chapter is unedited so please excuse any mistake, I will be editing it when I get a chance. I hope whoever is reading enjoys!! I really do pray you guys love Y/N's character because bits and pieces of her personality come from me. I'm having so much fun writing this so don't be ghost readersss so please comment and tell me your thoughts and opinions.

Next chapter is out in a couple days so be sure to look out for that.

Xoxo.

#dean winchester #spn #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fandom #supernatural tv show #supernatural fanfiction #dean and sam #sam and dean #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction

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lavendertales · 1 year

Text

Fire on fire—Javier Peña x f!reader**

Chapter 17 of the Unholy series

summary: you and Javier spend your first full night together. A new chapter waits for you both in Cali.

word count: 4.8k

WARNINGS: talk of grief in the beginning. Blindfolds, lingerie, face sitting, dry humping, doggy (implied rough sex), squirting, cum play.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

A/N: last chapter, lovebugs! I hope you had as much fun reading this as I had sharing it with you all. Thank you so much for all the love and support💕 P.S: here is the inspo for the lingerie😌and keep an eye out for the extra one-shot post-Colombia that’s gonna come real soon!

gif: @vera-kozhemiakina

series masterlist | AO3

There’s an unusual heat around you this morning. Granted, the atmosphere in Colombia is always this way, but you wake up to the sound of rain tapping lightly against your window, wrapped in your beloved blanket and fingers intertwined with yours.

It’s the second time Javier has spent the night, only now there is so much more to be felt between you. Grief, anger, tension, love, everything that has been boiling for the past fifteen years.

You’re nose to nose with him, having the perfect opportunity to study every little detail about him. There’s something so soothing about watching him finally get proper rest; you can see his long eyelashes, his stubbly cheek, and plush lips that can be both the sweetest and sinful touch you have ever felt on your skin. The fact that he’s holding your hand in his sleep makes the moment all the more endearing, like a perfect little gesture that’s a secret between the two of you.

“Staring is creepy, you know.”

God, his voice is huskier in the morning and you begin to wonder how come you’ve spent this long without moments like these.

“I’ve heard it can be romantic,” you retort, smiling as he’s slowly waking up.

You caress his hand, and Javier fully opens his eyes—his brown, warm eyes that don’t cease the look of admiration for you.

“How would you feel if you’d wake up to me staring at you?” he asks.

You shrug. “Pretty good. You look cute when you’re needy.”

Javier makes a mocking sound, some disapproval mixed with admiration, and your smile widens.

“You mumble in your sleep,” you say out of the blue. “Did you know that?”

Javier seems surprised by your statement, but he doesn’t question it. Instead, he gazes fondly at you, awakening more and more with each passing second.

“How would I know that?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I figured one of your lady friends noticed at some point in time.”

The sound that leaves Javier’s mouth has a hint of mockery, though not explicitly so. You reckon it is one of his default noises when people mention his personal life or habits, so you don’t bother with it. Perhaps you’re not the most qualified person to mention this at all.

Or perhaps you are.

“They never stayed long enough for that,” he casually mentions, shifting in bed so that he’s staring at the ceiling, seemingly contemplating everything.

“I feel so special,” you gush, hoping to catch a glimpse of his eyes.

But Javier doesn’t move.

He keeps staring at the ceiling, barely blinking, and you figure something’s the matter. Not that he’s the most communicative person in the world—particularly with you—but you have enough of that God complex to actually believe he might open up to you in some way, especially now, given how yesterday went.

“What do I mumble about?” Javier asks absentmindedly.

“You keep saying ‘I’m sorry’ a lot. Not sure to whom or for what. Some things in Spanish too, about forgiveness, I think.”

Bits and pieces return to Javier’s mind, crystal clear now. The faces he sees are ghosts of his past, as well as his present, always lingering in the dark, haunting and tormenting, laughing at him on occasion.

He finally turns towards you, and you see it: somewhat of a sadness darkens his eyes, otherwise emptied of the happiness he momentarily felt last night with you.

“My mom,” he replies after a while. “The first person I apologize to is my mom. Always. I apologize to her for… not being able to be there more for her. She died when I was fifteen.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“She was sick for a long time and I couldn’t do much of anything. Then I apologize to Loraine. My ex-fiancé. I met her after college. I proposed for all the wrong reasons. We weren’t—“

“Did you love her?”

Javier doesn’t need to ponder over that. Though he cannot help the embarrassment that comes with that story.

“I thought I did,” he tells you with honesty. “I did care for her, but it wasn’t true love. She lied to me about being pregnant, I lied to her about being in love… match made in hell.”

You chuckle softly, your head resting on his bare shoulder as you let him speak freely. It’s probably the first time in God knows how long that he gets the chance to let it all out, raw and real, in a place that keeps him safe.

“Then I apologize to all the innocent lives I couldn’t save since I arrived in Colombia. All the children, the mothers and fathers I failed. And, at the end, I apologize to you.”

“To me?”

Javier grunts a soft mhm that resembles a purr, and you feel your body tauter, warmer.

“Why do you apologize to me?” you ask.

He turns to look at you, meeting your eyes with a remorseful glare, and you hold your breath.

“For not being honest with you in the first place. I could’ve spared us both a lot of pain and anger if I’d just… told you back in college how I felt. If I would’ve been open.”

“You’re not the only one carrying the fault,” you try to coax him. “I wasn’t the most open person in the world either.”

“Match made in hell.”

You chuckle more audibly this time around, with Javier mimicking the sound as well.

“Then how come this works?” you retort.

He can’t argue against that. There is no answer to that. What he does know is that, whatever the trouble or the question, you are the answer.

“We��re made of the same clay,” you continue. “We… think the same, we act the same and we do the same.”

“A little troubling how similar we are.”

“Shockingly, I agree.”

But there’s something else Javier wants to ask, and he’s hesitant to do so. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up after last night, nor live under the impression that spending the night together might change your professional feelings.

He coos your name, looking at you as if he’s desperately trying to memorize every detail of your face.

“I gotta leave for Cali tomorrow.”

His voice is small, afraid to go on, and you can tell he’s forcing himself to go on as brave as he did till then.

“I know.”

“Steve and Sofia are coming, too. They’ll be part of the team. They put me in charge, not really sure why—“

“Javi.”

“—but they want me and someone else to supervise the entire Cali operation. I nominated you.”

“Javi.”

He finally hears you, sees your pleading face, begging him to listen to reason and end his babbling. It’s an unusual habit for him, talking this much, but you always managed to bring that out of him, one way or the other.

“If you want to know if I’m going or not, just ask me, like a normal person,” you almost giggle.

“I meant every single thing I said in that letter. Including the part where I said I want you to be okay, no matter where you are or who you are with. If you don’t want to, I understand it.”

“I do want to. I will be joining the team in Cali.”

You see the relief on Javier’s face, and you almost laugh fondly at his stubbornness to conceal it through a rugged, yet forced expression.

“You are?”

“Mhm. I’ve made a commitment to the DEA, to the case… of course I’m sticking around and seeing this through.”

Javier exhales, after what feels like an eternity, and simply looks you over.

“I’m flattered you thought to nominate me as your coworker,” you smile. “I would’ve thought you’d ask Steve first.”

“He was the backup in case you said no. Just don’t tell him I said that.”

“God, you’re so stubborn.”

“Said the pot to the kettle.”

You peck his lips, getting lost in his scent and his taste once more. Soon, your bodies get entangled, skin pressed against skin. Javier’s lips leave a wet trail as they suck on a particular spot on your neck, and you hum softly.

“I’m so much better than you at this,” he says, keeping up his sweet torment.

You smile, your hand grazing his chest and stomach in its devilish pursuit. Javier stops, gasping when your hand fists his cock, as slowly as humanly possible. You reach up for his lips while you keep that same pace, beyond satisfied with the result.

“You’re kidding, right?” you joke. “I’m actually crushing you at this.”

“Maybe—don’t use the word ‘crushing’ when you’re—hmm—doing this.”

You giggle against his lips, the moment making Javier ticklish and causing him to laugh alongside you. But then, his smile fades as your face darkens, haunted by something.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, pulling away.

You simmer in the bizarre sensation for a little while, trying to pinpoint what the exact issue is. And then, you come to the realization.

“I’m fine,” you say, still frowning at the sudden change of pace. “It’s just… I don’t know why, but Escobar popped into my head.”

“Trying not to take that as an insult.”

You chuckle, watching him with a guilty figure. “He knew me. When I went after him, he recognized me by my birthmark, he knew my middle name—“

“Carina.”

You look at him, stunned that he knows that piece of information that truthfully, you don’t recall confessing to him.

“Economics professor, Mr. James, always insisted to call us all by our full names. I know you really hated to be called Carina. Especially by me.”

“Which is why you kept doing it in front of others.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“I don’t know why this happened now. I’m sorry. I mean he’s dead, he doesn’t…”

Javier rolls over to the side, taking your hand in his and stroking it gently. “Don’t have to apologize for anything that shithead did or said. You can be angry and upset about it.”

You respond to his touch, smiling fondly at him.

“Don’t ever say you’re not a good man,” you tell him.

“You’re going soft, cariño.”

“In your dreams, Peña.”

You press a chaste kiss to his lips, then get out of bed, leaving Javier behind to watch your naked figure roam around the room.

“Where are you going?” he asks, almost saddened by your departure.

“I gotta head down to the embassy, confirm my transfer for tomorrow. You can either stay here or come along with me.”

Javier grunts, exhaling along with it, and he smirks your way. Hate as you might to admit it, you were a sucker for this sassy side of him.

“You’re putting me in an impossible situation here,” he huffs.

“How come?”

“Cause if I stay here, I get to see you walk around with nothing on, but if I go with you… well, we could make out in the evidence room.”

You chuckle, shaking your head at him. You bounce back to the bed, pressing another kiss on his lips. His hands sneak around you, giving your ass a good squeeze, and you give him an unimpressed glare.

“Could you go there and bounce back here again?” Javier asks, earning another chuckle from your side, paired with a playful push of his arm.

“You’re so filthy,” you coo.

“Said the pot to the kettle.”

You pull away abruptly, leaving Javier hanging low and dry.

“I’m going to the embassy,” you insist, starting to get dressed. “You can stay here playing with yourself or you can join me and make a good impression.”

“Leaning towards the first one. How would I make a good impression there?”

“As the lead man for the Cali operation, showing up at the office to ensure the smooth transaction of the other lead man, on a Sunday, no less, would look good for you.”

Javier huffs, finally getting out of bed and searching for his clothes. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

As it turned out, no one was happier about your return to the office than Claudia Messina. She even gave you a hug, which was a rare sight and treat for any agent at the embassy, repeatedly making sure that you were okay and that you were, in fact, there to sign as the co-lead in the Cali operation.

Javier stood by your side the whole time, proudly nodding to confirm Claudia’s questions while also ignoring her side-eyeing him whenever you spoke. He was fairly certain by now that she knew you and he had something going on behind closed doors, but then again, she needn’t know more than the absolutely necessary information.

After you signed the papers and confirmed your transfer to Cali early on tomorrow, Javier invited you for lunch, thus marking your first official outing as a couple and your very first date. You enjoyed a rather quiet meal together, which was a welcome change from the usually fast-paced, loud and deadly environment you learned to navigate your daily tasks through.

“I’m glad you’re joining the team,” Javier tells you as he’s parking the car in front of your building.

His soft voice, a little huskier than usual, pairs devastatingly nicely with the rain that’s pouring outside. The raindrops tap fast and cruel on the windows, cooling down the city, yet it has the exact opposite on you.

“I know,” you retort coyly. “What would you do without me?”

Javier smiles and huffs. “Probably be more productive.”

“More productive, really? Weren’t you the one being needy this morning?”

“Weren’t you the one who threw herself at me two days ago?”

“Oh, you wanna play this game?”

“I do.”

“Do you? Cause may I remind you, you were the one getting a hard-on in the conference room while staring me down.”

Javier smiles, walking you to the door and shielding you from the rain at the same time.

“No comeback?” you huff, opening the door. “You’re really going soft on me, Peña.”

“On the contrary.”

You notice his wicked smile and it triggers one of your own.

“What do you feel like doing?” you ask.

“It’s fuckin’ blazing outside and we’re free till tomorrow morning. What to do, what to do…”

He approaches you, gently grabbing the hem of your shirt and giving you a lustful look.

“I might have something in mind,” you say, brazen and zealous.

Fire spreads rapidly throughout your veins, your skin burning at the mere sight of Javier, and the simple thought of what you’d like to do getting you wetter than you would’ve thought.

“Yeah?” Javier grins. “Like what?”

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Then make yourself comfortable and I’ll be right back.”

You steal a kiss from him, and rush to the bathroom, making sure the door is locked behind you. You actually forgot about the bold fashion statement you’re currently slipping into, with everything that’s been going on. You’re not even sure as to why you’ve bought them in the first place, but the timing couldn’t have been better now.

You check yourself in the mirror, slowly twirling and making sure everything is in place. The black straps of the fabric wrap your body in a taut way that’s giving you a big confidence boost. Inhaling deeply, you smile to yourself and grab the tie that’s been gathering dust on your bathroom drawer.

When you re-enter the bedroom, leaning seductively against the doorframe, you see Javier sitting on the edge, hands joined in between his legs and staring down. He senses your presence and looks up, eyes wide and pupils fully blown out.

“Fuck me,” he mutters, eyeing you up and down.

“That’s the plan. I take it you like it?”

Javier huffs, the sound mocking you and your silly little question, and for once you don’t take offense at it. You know the overall look—the black lace underwear and its garter belt—is sultry and inviting in every way anyone can think of. The only thing missing from Javier’s facial expression is drool.

You inch closer to him, tantalizingly slow, revealing the tie in your hand. You reach around his broad shoulders to remove his leather jacket. Javier watches you intently, curious as to where is your brilliant, filthy mind headed but at the same time, all too eager to process your latent moves. So he reaches to unbutton his shirt, but you are quick to grab his hands, thus putting an end to his actions. Without a word, you guide him further up the bed, and when he’s leaning against the pillows, still in his shirt and jeans, you open the bedside drawer to reveal some more fabrics.

It’s only when you’re tying his hands around the headboard’s ends that Javier raises his brows and starts to get a sense as to where the afternoon is headed.

“Are you serious?” Javier asks, though not making an effort to free himself from the constraints.

“Do I look like I’m not?”

“What you look is gorgeous. And fuckable.”

“And you look like you’re about to get needy, which I happen to enjoy.”

Securing him to the bed, you move on to his face, pressing a languid kiss over his lips before tying the tie around his eyes.

“Oh, come on,” Javier whines.

You have to admit, the sight of a restrained Javier to your bed stirs powerful emotions inside of you. A smile breaks from the corners of your lips as you join him on the bed, your legs on either sides of his clothed thigh. You bite on your lower lip as you press your core onto him, arms on his shoulders for support. Before you can even realize it’s happening, you’re grinding on his lap, while Javier is completely unable to response.

“This what you had in mind for the rest of the day?” Javier asks in an unusually raspy voice. “Use me as leverage to make yourself cum?”

“A little,” you smile in utter delight.

The sensation of rubbing your barely clothed pussy on his thigh, the raw electricity of it, is causing your head to spin.

“That why you’re dressed like this? To make me feel worse?”

“Not worse,” you coo while continuously grinding on him. “Just a little riled up.”

“A little? We’ll see about that.”

You smile and grind faster, needier; Javier clenches his fists, anger building fast within. Sheer anger at being unable to see your gorgeous figure desperately fuck yourself on him, using his body as a propeller for your own pleasure. And then he comes to realize that that’s been your plan all along.

Devilish and effective. Just like you.

He loves this, too; the way you’re using his body as leverage to reach that pinnacle of desire and ecstasy, making him squirm and nearly beg for release himself. He feels his cock throbbing in his jeans, pulsing with immense need with each roll of your hips against his jeans, yet he knows that soon he’ll get to feel you properly.

He hears your breaths get ragged, soft moans cooed in between, and he smiles. He can picture your beautiful figure fucking yourself on his thigh and getting warmer and wetter with each passing second, and the mere thought could easily make him come in his pants like some lousy, horny teenager.

Well, maybe he is that way with you.

“Fuck,” you mutter, and Javier smiles.

“That feel good, cariño?”

“Yes—“

You know that if you keep going down this treacherous path, you’ll eventually come, messily and speedy, and you don’t want it to happen this way.

Besides, this is simply a test of strength and self-control. For both of you.

Your hips no longer rut against his thigh; instead, you cup his cheeks and kiss him, hungrily, like you haven’t felt the touch of his lips for the longest time.

“Cariño?”

“Hmm?”

“Sit on my face.”

Bewildered, you stare at his immobilized figure, contemplating, craving. You haven’t really done this before and it’s stirring all kinds of emotions inside of you.

“Uh—are you sure?” you check.

“Did I stutter?”

“No, but I just wanna make sure—“

“Sit. On my face. Now.”

He doesn’t bother asking you to untie him, nor does he squirm or try to break free. No; he simply waits, breaths deep and as hungry as the body they’re being freed from.

“Panties to the side. And sit,” Javier enunciates, as if reading your mind regarding your struggle about the lingerie.

You follow through, nearly embarrassingly wet by this point. You notice the erection strangled in his jeans, and you can’t help but admire his self-control.

Both legs on either sides of his face, you lower yourself onto him. That first brush of his stubble and mustache against your folds is thrilling, his tongue lapping diligently to collect every ounce of arousal you’re capable of giving him sensational. It’s also mighty impressive how he’s able to provide you with so much pleasure already, even with his hands tied. Between moments of ecstasy, you remark Javier’s clenched fists, tugging at the restraints. You know that he craves to mold your skin between his fingers, to grope you till he leaves bruises.

“Javi—fuck—“

He can’t say a damn thing, not with his mouth full of your soaked pussy. You start to rub yourself all over his face, feeling the buildup in your belly, ready to be detonated. Javier grunts, the vibrations an additional aid towards your impending orgasm. Your mind gets foggy, your breaths shallow and your chest tight; and then you feel it throughout your entire body.

“Fuck, right there—oh God—“

You finally come, your body seizing entirely on Javier’s face as your orgasm knocks all air out of your lungs. You feel a hand tightly gripping your right ass cheek, and you come to your senses enough to realize that his left hand broke free from the headboard. Shit, that’s a determined man, you think.

You look down, seeing Javier licking his lips. “Good girl,” he praises.

Blood rushes to your face, your cheeks now appearing sun-kissed, as you climb down, settling on his lap. His free hand is now on your back, gently resting there, waiting for you to make your next move. You remove the blindfold, and Javier blinks several times in a row, taking in your gorgeous attire, almost unable to believe that this is real and that he gets to have you this way.

His other hand is now free as well, and they both move to hold your waist, not daring to move. He stares you down, and you know he’s gonna take his revenge for what you did.

That’s exactly what you were counting on.

“My turn now,” Javier mutters.

He rolls you on the bed, flat on your tummy and ass up. He bites his lips, quickly disposing of his clothes. When he wraps his hand around his aching cock, he grunts as if in pain. He gives himself a few strokes, stopping abruptly the second he realizes how sensitive he truly is and that he’d probably come in a matter of seconds if he keeps doing this.

“Can I fuck you my way?” he asks.

And his question comes so kindly and sweetly that you nearly tremble.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“On all fours then.”

You obey, sitting in position. His hand grabs your hip, pulling you closer, and you suck in a breath. The anticipation is killing you, and you know that no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that you’re prepared for what’s to come, it won’t be true.

Cock in his hand and hand on your waist, Javier thrusts inside you in one languid motion. You instantly moan, the feeling of having him so thick and eager inside of you utterly maddening. He starts to fuck you with fervor, wasting no time. He’s fucking you like he only has five minutes to spare, so much so that you can barely breathe. You try to reach around to touch him somehow, in some way, but he swiftly grabs both your arms and keeps them locked together, snapping his hips faster into you. He’s mesmerized by the way his cock disappears in and out of you, the way your ass bounces against the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and the sounds you make… Jesus fucking Christ, this is the best sight he’s ever seen.

Your face buried in the mattress, hair falling down your face and your cunt at Javier’s mercy, no sounds other than some groans and moans leave your throat. It’s pretty impressive that for a man who ran on two hours of sleep, cigarettes and whiskey for the longest time, he snaps his hips into you so fast you’re nearly seeing stars. He can’t get enough of you, the way the lingerie is strapped to your body, it’s all giving him a fever.

“Fuck, you’re so—beautiful,” he grunts. “S-So good.”

“Javi, I n-need—“

“Hm? What was that?”

“I need to cum, please—“

“So do it.”

You’d reach around to play with your clit if you could, but Javier is taking everything from you, and you can’t help but give it to him. A few more thrusts and he’s done for: next thing he knows, he pulls out and comes all over your ass, jerking himself off to completion. He watches you squirm and, freed from his grip, you rub your clit speedily, and you come with a ragged moan, your orgasm messy and unusually wet, spurting everywhere.

It takes you a while to settle down. Then you feel Javier’s hands on your ass again, only now they’re gently cleaning your skin with what feels like a warm cloth. When you move to the edge of the bed, you see the mess over the sheets, slightly embarrassed.

“Wow,” you notice. “I don’t think I’ve ever… came this hard.”

Javier smiles. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Of course you would, you cocky bastard.”

He leans down to kiss you, falling atop of you again. “So I take it you liked the lingerie?” you cheekily ask.

“We pretty much ruined your sheets. Take that as you will.”

It’s no longer embarrassment that you feel, but rather fondness, and a certain happiness. It’s bizarre—you’ve never felt happiness quite like this. It feels deserved, after all the hard work and hardships you’ve both endured.

You crawl into the bed, listening to the rain falling against the windows. Javier joins you, one arm wrapped around you.

“Starting tomorrow, we’re gonna go through hell again, you know?” Javier says, visibly contemplative.

“Nice pillowtalk.”

Javier chuckles softly, turning to look at you.

“I know though,” you reply. “We should enjoy this afternoon as much as we can.”

“Any other devilish plans on your mind?”

“Eh. Let’s see how you feel in half an hour, maybe we give it another go.”

You graze his cheek, weirdly thankful for all the moments that led you to this particular one, safely in his arms.

“You know I’d fuck you all the time if I could,” he tells you.

“You sure know how to flatter your women.”

“About the mission though… I’m thinking we should have some boundaries.”

“Like what? No making out in the break room or getting down and dirty in the evidence room?”

You smile at one another, smugly remembering the precise moments you broke all rules known to professionalism.

“Would help, yes,” Javier says. “It’s for our safety. We can’t let people know we’re together. Otherwise—“

You take his hand into yours, trying to reassure his pessimism. You can’t help but share it as well, although you know it consumes him more than you on occasion.

“I know,” you tell him sweetly. “We’ll be careful.”

Javier sees your wide smile, and it manages to make him flustered for what feels like a premiere in his life.

“What?” he asks.

“So… we’re together? A real couple?”

“I thought it was obvious.”

You shrug. “I like to hear it.”

Javier’s thumb grazes your cheek, cupping it as if he’s holding the most valuable possession in the world in his hand.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmurs.

“I know that too. We’ll be fine.”

“We’ll be fine.”

And for the first time since he’s been in Colombia, Javier means it, and feels it to be true. He knows Cali will be just as—if not more—murderous and bloody than Medellin and Bogota, but it doesn’t feel that difficult now that he’s not alone.

He was never alone when you were around him. And maybe, hopefully, he won’t ever be alone again.

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