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fofisstilinski · 6 months

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Enemy's cruelty

Author's note: Hello, I know that I've been away for a long time and I'm sorry for that but I needed some time away. Recently I came back in the app and realised that I never posted this part so this is my way to apologise for being inactive for so long. I hope you will enjoy this.

Pairing: Ubbe x Reader.

Genre: Mini!series, drama, angst, slight romance.

Summary: You are planning to leave Ubbe after the news you received.

Warnings: Violence (emotional and physical), mentions of strangulation, mentions of marriage and strong language.

My enemy and me masterlist | Nemesis's wish |

History had always had this odd tendency repeating itself.

The first one was Ragnar Lothbrok. He cheated on his wife with princess Aslaug – Ubbe's mother – and she showed up on his doorstep with child – his child. Lagertha had no choice but to leave him. After all, that should be the actions of everyone who had a little bit of dignity left in them.

History is the greatest tutor. It taught you that being a great man, doesn't have to mean that you are an equally great husband.

The sons of Ragnar had a long legacy behind them from the past coming from their father and from the future because they were destined to score great achievements matching their father's reputation or even overcoming him. Though they were famous about their battle and political exploits, when it came to their intimate relationships things were completely the opposite. All their glory were coming in contrast to the infamous rumours surrounding them.

To be honest, the loyal husband didn't exist – or it was extremely rare to exist among them. It was a common secret that they had their affairs in the lands they were raiding, but it was only because they wanted someone to warm their bed for some nights before they come back to their families.

You had never cared about Ubbe's affairs. In fact, you wished something like that happened because you wanted to be free away from this who you hated passionately. But never guessed that the day your wish came true would come. Also, you would never believe that you could feel any other feeling than hate or disgust or anything bad about this awful man.

This was the worst thing that could happen and it did happen at the worst time possible. Ubbe and you had started developing weird feeling for each other – but probably it happened for the best. You were only in the beginning of feeling less abhorrence about the other person and luckily you were back on same terms before you would disappear from Kattegat for good.

Thinking about taking your child and walking away made your heart clench in your chest. You didn't want young Ragnar to grow up apart from Ubbe. You wanted them close, but you couldn't keep them close anymore. You couldn't stay and be more humiliated than before. It wasn't right neither for you nor for your son.

You knew you had to leave immediately and you would when the boy would recover from the flue. He was better the past three days – the fever was almost gone.

The same as Ubbe. Ubbe was barely around. You two couldn't stand each other in the same house. As you were informed by Torvi, he was having restless nights at Great Hall in the company of his brothers.

He wasn't seeing Margrethe anymore.

He barely talked to her.

He didn't talk at all to you.

You didn't talk at all to him.

The only moments his tired hoarse voice made it in your ears were when he was talking to your son, but even then you didn't want to hear him at all. His voice was irritating you even more than before.

You didn't want him around, but you couldn't keep him apart from his son – not when you were about to take him away from him in a matter of days.

You were trying not to think – especially not for him and not when he was around. It was even worse thinking about him and sensing his presence being in the same place as you were.

It was one of those moments, Ragnar was laying on his father's lap and was listening carefully to the stories Ubbe was telling him about his father and the cities they had raided. Ubbe was speaking about his family's legacy proudly and your son was looking at him magnetized. It felt like he was hanging from each word coming out of his mouth.

You dared to dream about a total different life for a damned second, but you erased that bloody thought from your mind the following one. There couldn't be any other alternative life that Ubbe and you could live happily married with Ragnar. You were meant to be at each others throat.

You turned around and pretended to clean your already cleaned house because you didn't want to look at him anymore. You didn't even want to breathe the same air as him.

It was all back to normal – you were back to hate him. The only difference was that after all these events you hated yourself more than you hated him. You were at fault more than he was because you let your guards down. Even for a little amount of time you let yourself change your feelings. It wasn't a wasn't a great change but still it was enough to get hurt.

Hopefully, you wouldn't get to be around him anymore if everything worked according to your plan. You didn't really like the idea of Ragnar growing up without his father, but you couldn't stay. You had been enough humiliated so far because of him and his mistress.

You would have left sooner if it hadn't been for your sick son, but he was getting better now. If your plan worked right, you would be away from this place in two nights from this moment. You would grab your son and leave at dawn before the any fisherman or merchant saw you. You had even paid some fisherman a great amount of gold to let you sail on his boat in the nearest town and there you would find your way alone.

Your mind was so absorbed in your thought about your escape plan that you didn't notice Ubbe and your son moving from the bed. Ubbe stood up and had the child on his lap before placing him inside his crib. After that he came behind you, standing there uncomfortably without saying a word. When, in fact, Ubbe wanted to say something – anything.

You almost startled when you faced him so close to you, but you didn't do any action that would let him notice. It had felt so long since the last time you were facing each other this close – the last time you had fought about his child with that girl. This time didn't feel any different.

You were standing facing each other without speaking, but there were so many unsaid things between you. So much tension that both of you couldn't unsee the fact that it existed.

Before, in moments like that – when you were staring at each other – you were throwing blades at each other. It felt like a whole single combat between the two of you. The first to take his eyes away from the other was the one who lost the battle. But this time, it didn't feel like it.

The anger and hatred were participating as any other time. Only now, another emotion was there too, in addition with the other two. It felt like guilt, coming from both sides for different reasons.

Though Ubbe was the one to blame for the best part of this situation they were put into. It would be only fair to let her go without any word and he knew it himself deep in his heart, but it was hard to accept it – to deal with it. They weren't in the best of terms ever – in fact not even close to good ones – but she had never left or had done anything to humiliate him in public. Their personal matters were kept to themselves within the walls of this house – though it was a common secret that they weren't getting along. Apart from that they kept themselves civil in public and in front of his family even though they knew everything about them.

Ubbe cleared his throat first. He had been wanting to say something since the moment he set his foot in the house, but couldn't form a word. But he knew that he couldn't keep himself from speaking. He had to say something – it felt now or never. Ubbe wanted to clear his position, to apologize. He knew that you wouldn't let him do so.

You were a proud woman – he knew it as he knew that you wouldn't let him say anything about the matter that would be keep things civil between you. In any case, this would end up bad, like it always did. You would fight again and this time it might be worse than the other times because this time you had something really serious to argue about.

"The child seems better." This was the only thing Ubbe managed to say.

You rolled your eyes at his statement and felt your blood boiling. It felt like he was in disbelief that you managed to take good care of your son and he was healthy all over again. You were mad at him for all the other situation with the slave girl, but him undermining you was worse than cheating.

"Did you believe that he wouldn't?" You tone was harsh and bitter. At the sound of it, Ubbe's expression changed. His features hardened and his jaw was clenched. The battle had started once more – like any other time.

"Would you blame me for that? It isn't like you are the most caring person around." His tone was matching to your own which enraged you even more than before. You had all rights of Midgard to be angry and he was trying to turn it to you being a bad mother because you were mean to him.

It wasn't like you didn't know it – you knew that your actions towards him wasn't kind but the opposite. But you weren't this way to your son. Ragnar the Younger was your only comfort, your only companion. The person who made you like your life when you hated it more than ever.

Your love for him was sincere. How could it now be, he was your only child even though he was also the son of your nemesis you couldn't feel any less love for the person who grew inside your body and got out of it. He was yours and you adored him.

"But your whore is, right?" You felt like you were going to strangle him to death with your bare hands. After your words, you didn't even wait for an answer of his or any movement, you were mad and you wanted to take it out of you without pressing your hands on his throat. You had never did something like that – you had slapped him, yes, but your hands never went further than that. "If you believe that she is, you are stupid enough. I have learned not to underestimate any rival of mine and I certainly haven't underestimated you or her. How could I underestimate a slave girl? Slave girls can do anything to get them out of the low position they are and be in power and when they manage to free themselves, they want more and more." A fire was dancing inside the color of your eyes. You were mad and you couldn't keep the words from getting out – you didn't want to keep them.

Ubbe didn't get to say anything. His eyes were glaring directly inside your own burning eyes – his gaze was no different than yours. He didn't answer and you after a short breath you started again with the poisonous words.

"It's so easy to notice that she is a gold digger after your status. Just by looking at the way she has all of you – the sons of the mighty Ragnar Lothbrok – wrapped around her little finger you can say it. You fools have sincere and true feelings for her – how pathetic. But I won't blame you, you can't choose who your heart belonges – unfortunately. Just don't ever judge me again. You can't because you don't me." One long breath again. Your eyes always on his – sign of you believing every word that came out of your mouth. Ubbe was listening to you, preparing for his own little speech.

"I won't deny that I am a cruel woman – I know I can be harsh and bitter, but that's how I grew up. It wasn't easy for me either. I am not a thrall, but all my life it felt like I was. My fate – it seems – is controlled by men, treating me like an object they can use to secure some kind of alliance or a womb that's only use is to produce heirs. But I am a woman – a person." You almost tear up, but before even your tear came make it further than your eye you manage to wipe it away.

When you finished, Ubbe was running his hand through hair, ready to speak himself.

"You speak a lot without really knowing what you are saying – yet your words is your truth. I am not saying that life was kind to you – I can't know what has happened to you before I met you, I can only assume. My life hasn't been kind as well. Everyone is expecting extraordinary things from me because of my father – a father that was never there for me. Most of my life I've been only with my mother – who was never really there – and my brother – Bjorn. If it wasn't for him, I probably wouldn't be the man I am." Ubbe was starting calmly and yet so intensely.

"As for Margrethe, don't judge her you don't know her the way me or my siblings do. The problem is between us – it had always been there. We are the people to blame about the tragedies of our lives. You and I have made mistakes and the worst of them all was our lack of interest in hearing to each other. You had problems and I had mine when we married and we let those problem tear us apart. Both of us haven't been the ideal person for the other, but here we other stuck with each other having a conversation that had to be made a long time ago.

"We fucked up our lives with our bare hands and now after all this time of failing ourselves we are called to deal with the consequences."

"You fucked up our lives big time." Your words came out in the most selfish way possible when his own were spoken wisely and reasonably. That was Ubbe people knew and loved.

"Me, alone? As if you are a saint." His bitterness was back, but it wasn't enough to make you stop. You were mad at him.

Yes, his words were right. You were the authors of your destruction and downfall, but his doing – his intimate relationship with her and the aftermath of it, their child – was the worst part of it and was his own doing. He had tore you apart and signed your end. He couldn't say it was both your doing. Well, partially it was, but Ubbe was the one to take the most of the credit about it.

"I am not, but I wasn't the one who humiliated you by sleeping and impregnating a thrall. Be the reasonable man you claim you are and accept the amount of the blame you have, along with the consequences that follow." You spoke calmer than before and took first your eyes away from his. You moved away from him to the crib of your son to check on him. He was asleep, luckily you were calmer than usual and he was able to take his nap.

"This incident is just the tip of the iceberg. We have equal amount of blame for the rift in our marriage." He continued behind you in a tired tone of voice.

Your eyes moved away from the small form of your son and moved to the much larger one of Ubbe. You rolled your eyes once more frustrated. You were done by this. You knew what you had to do to stop all these arguments and drama – you were going to leave just a couple of days had left for you to endure Kattegat and Ubbe.

"Which marriage are you talking about? There's no marriage. You destroyed that." You weren't yelling – just scoffing. But your words, you damn well that wasn't the entire truth. It would be the whole truth if you said that you both destroyed your marriage with your foolish actions.

Your scoffing made Ubbe even more than he was. He moved towards the table and sat down on one of the wooden chairs. You stayed at your former position. You were standing close to your son's crib in front of him.

"You are my wife and that won't change even though both of us would like that." Harsh and calm tone, enough to make your blood boiling for once more. Your lips pursed in a thin line and your jaw clenched.

"Yeah, I forgot you would love to free her and then marry her." Your own tone was an ironic one when you referred to her.

"I intend to marry her regardless."

Your eyes turned to meet his – his blue ones were already gazing you. It was one of those rare moments he caught off guard. For a moment or so you thought that you misheard him, but the fucking expression on his face told you otherwise – told you that you heard clearly his words.

"What?" Your voice wasn't louder than a whisper.

"I'll take her as a second wife of mine. I would tell you under different circumstances, but I have to realize that there would never be ideal or even better circumstances between us. So, yes, Margrethe will be my wife and she will give birth to my child." The whole time Ubbe was speaking, his eyes were studying you – your eyes, your expressions, everything.

You managed to take a couple of steps away from the crib. You couldn't even form a word, because you couldn't process his words.

"Your first and only wife you meant to say."

"You are my first wife."

"I am not your wife anymore."

Your whole conversation was happening – surprisingly – in the most civil way possible. No bitterness, not poisonous words, nothing. The first and hopefully the last time.

"This conversation goes nowhere. You are way too stubborn to understand a couple of things and I have a tone of fucking stuff to deal with. If you decide to calm down before the marriage, good. If not, then I'll take matters in my own hands the way I know." Ubbe stood up from the chair and moved towards you not too close, but not far enough.

"Don't do anything impulsive for your sake."

Low voice, quite threatening and eyes gazing deep in your soul. But you would never let him notice that. You were eyeing him the same way – you would never back down to none especially him.

"I am not afraid of you." Your voice was challenging and for the first time after days a vicious smirk formed on his face.

Ubbe leaned towards you, his hot breath fell on your neck. He took a sip of your scent before any word came out of mouth.

"Maybe not at the moment, but you will be." His voice was soft – softer than ever. Yet that was definitely a threat.

You didn't get to answer to that because he stormed out of the house, leaving you behind confused and angry – definitely not afraid.

The days felt insufferable. Each was another torment for you. You couldn't even step out of the door of your house, everyone was pointing their fingers at you, gossiping about your husband's offspring with the slave girl. They were mocking you – something that you proud self couldn't accept. You glared at them but that wasn't enough to restore your dignity. The only thing that would help your reputation would be to leave him for good and never ever step a foot on this damned grounds.

And the big was finally there. You were only an hour away from your freedom, but your heart was aching. It felt wrong and apart from this another strange feeling were eating you up alive. You felt like you shouldn't leave with your son, but this wasn't an option. You were out of options indeed at the end of the day.

You didn't bother to wake up Ragnar. You wrapped him in a thick fur and put your own black cloak on.

The sheet of snow on the ground and the roofs of the houses was thick. It was very cold this time of the night out there. You shouldn't be out, but you had to make it in the dock and leave to save any little dignity you had left after your husband's achievements.

You walked like a shadow in the way that led on the dock. Your weird feeling was getting stronger and stronger at each step you took towards the directions you wanted. It felt like your heart was trying to warn you not to go – not to leave Ubbe – but your mind was telling you otherwise. You had to leave, to get in that boat and move away from Kattegat.

Eventually, you made it on your destination and took off the hood of your cloak, but something felt off. Things didn't go as you planned them to.

Two men were standing in front of the dock and there wasn't any boat close enough. Moreover, the fisherman you had paid to help you was nowhere to be found. You were watching them like a hawk, trying to study them and find to get away somehow. There was no way back to Kattegat.

You turned around to step back – not to your house – to the forest. There should be a way to escape from the forest. However, when you did turned around, your eyes widened when you spotted Ubbe eyeing you with two men standing next him. Both of them were his brothers – Bjorn and Hvitserk. You couldn't read his face, but you knew by heart that he was angry and tried to hide it under this mixed expression.

Before you even thought about anything to say, Ubbe had already started walking in your direction. You couldn't really anything – you didn't need to. Both of you knew that this was the only right thing to do for the sake of your dignity, but Ubbe would never let you slip away in the middle of the night with his son on hands. Once Lagertha had managed to leave his father and Bjorn had gone her. Ubbe couldn't let you take his eldest away. He couldn't bear the thought of his boy growing away from him.

"I told you not to do anything impulsive, but per usual you didn't listen to me." Ubbe whispered to you when he was just a breath away from you. His hands wrapped around your son's little body and pulled away from your hands violently, waking him up by the way he pulled him.

The boy started crying and you yelling.

"Don't touch him! Give him to me! Ubbe!" You were yelling at him as he was walking at the other way around towards his brothers. You tried to reach him and take your son back, but the two men you saw earlier grabbed you by force by both of your arm and didn't let you approach. You were hitting them and were trying to break free but they were far more stronger than you. "No! No! No! You can't do that to me, Ubbe! NO!" You were yelling crying. Your son was crying as well on Hvitserk's lap. You sank on your knees, still trying to break free and reach your son. "You are a monster! I fucking hate you!"

Hvitserk was trying to calm down your son, but he couldn't unsee your state.

"Ubbe, maybe you should—" Hvitserk tried to reason with him, but Ubbe stopped him using both words and movements of his hands.

"Don't get involved in that, Hvitserk. This is between me and my wife." Ubbe's voice was stern as his steps were bringing him closer to your wrecked form.

"Your former wife. Former." You spitted as he was kneeling in front of you. He clicked his tongue inside his mouth when he heard you.

Swiftly his hand pulled your face by your chin and your eyes met – yours were burning full in tears and his had gone darker, they had the darkest shade of blue you had ever seen. Shortly after your eyes met, his hand moved from your chin to your throat. It wrapped around your neck so firmly that you almost couldn't breathe, but you didn't care at this point. The worst part of this situation you were into was your son's crying – it broke your heart. You wanted to reach him and caress him, sing to him and calm him down.

"You are my wife. Mine. Like it or not this is the way." Ubbe was speaking in hoarse and stern tone all the time. He was imposing and serious. "Now you have two options here and that's because I am a generous person. If it was for another man, you wouldn't have the option to see your son again, because you would be dead or worse." He left your throat and ordered his men to help you stand. At first you resisted, but eventually you did as he said. Ubbe stood up as well and for once more you were facing each other.

"Your first option is to leave. You are free to go where ever you like away from Kattegat – away from me." He started say and motioned to his men to set you free – something they did instantly.

You frowned you couldn't believe your ears. There has to be something there he wasn't going to let you leave just like that – not after all this chaos.

"But my son stays here. You will leave and never lay a foot on Kattegat. You will never see him again."

At the sound of this, you felt your heart clenching. It was like he had stabbed you with his knife directly in your heart and then ripped it out of your body. You couldn't leave your son behind and never see him again.

"No, I can't do that! You can't do that!" You cried and gazed only at your son, but Ubbe's hand wrapped around your jaw tightly and forced you to look at him, when you tried to look back at your son he didn't let you. He kept your face stable at your former position.

After your words, Ubbe smirked.

"So this leaves us with the second option. You will stay here, be my wife – my loyal wife – and you will move in the Great Hall with me. You will accept my marriage with Margrethe and give us your blessing. Also, you will never try to harm her or my child or else you will never see Ragnar the Younger again. That's a promise." He continued and left your face. After that, he moved back to his brothers who were watching the whole scene without talking after Hvitserk's attempt to reason with him. "I'll give you a second to think about your options. Think about it well."

Ubbe took Ragnar on his hands trying to calm him down himself, but he couldn't – Ragnar was still crying.

You approached them – tears were falling like waterfalls from your eyes – and opened your hands for Ragnar. Ubbe didn't give him to you even after he saw the boy's hands lifting towards you – he wanted you.

"You won't get to touch my son unless you choose correctly."

Before you mumble your answer, you wiped your tears from your soaking cheeks.

"Everything will happen as you wish. We will go to the Great Hall and I'll give you my blessing for your marriage. I'll take care of your wife and your child. Just give me my son. Please Ubbe." You hadn't felt more humiliated than this moment ever again. Even when you learned about the slave girl and her child, you didn't feel like this.

He let you have your son. When he brought him on your hands, you let your tears fall freely. You closed your eyes and smelled his scent. After that, you placed a long kiss on his forehead.

"He is my son and don't you dare think of doing something like this again, because next time I won't be this generous to you." Ubbe whispered to you and you didn't answer.

As long as you had Ragnar on your hands, you didn't care about anything else. Neither your dignity nor who Ubbe slept with. You were defeated for good. You had lost the war of your life. Your life had no meaning apart from your son. You were nothing more than a mother. Ragnar was all that had left in your life and you would give it to protect him – or end with the worst way possible whoever dared to harm him.

The following day you moved in the Great Hall, earning scoffing and mocking looks from the people in it – even the queen had a weird look on her face like she was questioning the choices you had made and your approval for Ubbe's second marriage with a thrall. The people who knew were the only ones who showed quite the sympathy, but still they were on Ubbe's side. You had no allies in this place. You were on your own as you had always been.

"Welcome in the Great Hall." The queen was the one to welcome you first. You didn't even pretend that you were glad about it, didn't even bother to force a fake smile on your face.

"It's good to have you here. Maybe you could help us with the preparations of the wedding." Margrethe was the one to speak next. She approached you smiling. Your gaze met the one of Ubbe's who was already on you, expecting your answer to his bride. You knew better than to cause a scene.

"Sure. It would be nice." You spoke, earning the laughter and mockery of Ivar. You couldn't blame him though. If it wasn't for Ragnar, you would scoff at yourself for your foolishness.

The day of the wedding was even worse than anything you had to endure so far. Maybe that was the worst day of your life and not the day of your own wedding to him. This day and the day you tried to escape with your son had been marked on your memory as the worst day of your life – you couldn't really choose which one had been worse than the one. You only knew that on those days you had been humiliated and violated in the worst ways possible.

You used to be a proud woman – now you were the exact opposite of that. You were dishonoured. You felt small and vulnerable in public, but kept trying to not break in front of the prying eyes. They had disgrace your honor, but you would never let them see how much it affected you.

You wore one of your finest dresses and put on your best of efforts to keep forcing fake smiles on your face. Your hair was braided on a tight bun. The dress you wore was black unlike the bride's white.

You were the first one to walk down the aisle and notice everyone. It was an open wedding – all Kattegat participated to confess your public humiliation, but you kept your forced smile there and waited for them. Ubbe and Margrethe followed shortly after you.

Everything was blurry for you until the Gothi asked who would give the bride to her husband. You forced a smile and without a lot words you gave her the ring made of gold Ubbe had picked for her. Then, the priestess blessed the three of you with the blessed blood of the sacrifice and it was you who had to give your bless about their union next, before the Gothi would bless the ring and Ubbe would put it on her finger.

That was the most difficult part of it. You weren't hurt about the fact they were getting married – you couldn't be. Ubbe had treated you the way your father did and that was enough to had the same feelings for him as you had for your father – to despise him. They treated you like one of their possessions, like an object. You wantes to believe that even the person he were towards you – Ubbe was different from him. But eventually they were all the same.

Margrethe lifted her hands which were inside a wreath and you touched it. You wanted to destroyed the moment your hands touched it, but you didn't do that. Instead, you freed her hands from and let it slip on the floor.

"You are free." You looked at her with your fake smile and tears threatening your eyes. Tears that you would never let them fall. You were stronger than that. Apart from relying on your own strength, you had asked Frigg herself to help you endure this. "Go, marry my husband... with my blessing." You paused for the shortest of breaths and touched your hands with Ubbe's and Margrethe's. After that you were enough not to remember the rest of the ceremony.

A feast came after this parody of a wedding. You were seated on the right side of Ubbe and Margrethe on the left. You didn't really payed attention to the conversations in the Hall, neither tried to start one. You were seated on your chair drinking ale from a curved horn.

You were quiet until Lagertha – or Earl Ingstad – approached and sat down in the empty chair next to yours. You smiled politely at her and fake. By the look on her face you were sure that she could say whether or not that smile was sincere. She knows more than people would like to.

"I have a question for you, though I know the answer myself." She started and got all of your attention on her.

"What would that question be?"

"Why did you blessed this union? Why did you stay?" Her voice was soft along, but her gaze sharp. She was studying you – reading your mind. "You and I have more in common that we would like. Once I was in your place as well. I know the feeling."

You took a long sip from your drink and worked on your answer for some seconds. You weren't going to say the truth – you weren't going to mention anything about that night. You wouldn't like to be called a coward, but better a coward than a childless mother. After all, you were there because of Ragnar the Younger, not because of Ubbe.

"Not all of us are as strong as you."

Lagertha seemed pleased by the way you chose to answer. Her hand reached for yours and she leaned closer to you. Her voice was softer than a whisper – you barely heard her – and when her words made it in your ears you were surprised.

"Yes, because you are stronger. No woman would let herself be disgraced in such way because of the love for her child. I – I didn't. When I left Ragnar, Bjorn didn't choose to come along, but eventually changed his mind. A son should be close to his father – yes – but no mother must be away from her child." Her words made your heart clench. As one mother to another she could understand your agony and pain for your only child.

A true smile formed on your face and you gave it to her, before she retreat to her original seat.

The rest of your night went by the same way it did before Lagertha showed up. Ivar would leave his offensive remarks which didn't really bother you anymore. Hvitserk wouldn't be in his usual mood due to this marriage – something like yourself. Sigurd didn't really seem offended or affected by Ubbe's choice to marry the girl. Bjorn was Bjorn – he was his usual self. After all he was the only one who never had or seeked any kind of relationship with her.

When you retreated to your chamber, you found Ubbe having Ragnar on his lap, talking to him about one more story of his family's saga. When he spotted you, he left the chair he was sitting and came closer to you, giving you the child.

"You were unexpected today." Ubbe noted and you almost let a bitter chuckle leave your mouth.

"I didn't have a choice." You spoke, looking only at your son. The only time you decided to look at him was to ask him about something. "And why are you here, anyway? Isn't your wedding night? Shouldn't you be with your new wife?" There were more than a question – more than you intended to ask – but it came out naturally.

Ubbe decided to avoid the answer you gave him after his remark and focused on your questions.

"I wanted to see my son." He said casually tickling with one of his hands your boy, making him jiggling and laughing. You smiled at the sound of his angelic laughter. "And you." This time his voice was much softer than any other time. Your eyes met and you tried to focus back on your son and not on the fast rate of your heartbeat.

"Ragnar is fine, I am fine. Go to your wife." You said quickly turning your back.

You were walking through the room, caressing your son's back. That was one of your desperate attempts to put him to sleep. He was upset the nights away from home – your former home. He wasn't used here and he would refuse to go to sleep.

"You are also my wife."

You sighed harshly when he reminded you – like you could forget when he was around all the time. Or you could forget when you were giving your blessing to wed another. Or when he forced you to stay. Or—

A soft knock on your door was enough to stop all your thoughts and prevent you from giving him any answer. Ubbe opened the door himself and revealed Hvitserk.

"Sorry to interrupt you." He spoke looking at you and you smiled at him.

"You don't. Ubbe was just leaving."

"Yeah, that was exactly the reason I came. We are expecting you. Don't be late." He whispered to his brother, but not low enough for you not to hear them. You didn't even want to think about the topic of their conversation, but you could imagine – much to your displeasure. Your mind was getting there not following your attempts not to. After these words from brother to brother, Hvitserk turned to apologetically. "Sorry again."

"Goodnight." You muttered and he winked at you. Ubbe closed the door, but not before he overheard your whisper to yourself. "I suppose that it will indeed be a good night." You laughed to yourself and he did the same as he closed the door behind his brother.

"We—" Ubbe started saying awkwardly. A hand was at the back of his head, scratching him skin. You stopped him, before he could even form a second word.

"No need to tell me anything. It's your personal life." You told him quickly, raising one of your hands – the one which wasn't holding the child – to stop him.

"You are part of my personal life." His voice was hoarse and calm for once more. As he was speaking, he was moving towards you for once more.

"I am part of your chores. I suppose." You smiled. One more real smile that evening. He smiled as well.

"No. Do you want one truth?" Ubbe was whispering now. He had stopped right in front of you. Your son was the only thing who kept you apart.

"Only one?" You kept whispering as he did.

Both of you were smiling.

"Just one."

"Go ahead, say it. I promise I won't tell a soul."

"Good. Coming back to you had always been my top priority since we met."

Your whole conversation was made of whispers and smiles – like a sacred prayer. One that was so sacred and holy that shouldn't be heard from the other. Your first and only silent one without yelling or anything loud.

You hadn't noticed how close to each you were standing until you stopped talking. All this closeness felt uncomfortable.

You took your eyes off of him and looked at your son – he was asleep. You smiled at the sight.

"He is asleep." You told Ubbe softly enough not to wake the boy.

"Yeah – um – I should probably get going." He was saying awkwardly as you were placing your son inside his crib.

"Yes, I think you should. Goodnight." You muttered and smiled uncomfortably at him.

Ubbe took a few steps back and mouthed a rushed "goodnight" before he was out of your door.

You felt yourself smiling at the memory of your previous conversation, the most real in all this time you knew each other. The only one which didn't end up in a fight or happened within one. The most calm and yet the most intensive you had.

If only this was the beginning and nothing had happened before that.

You moved you head in an attempt to remove these thoughts. Ubbe was in Margrethe's chamber with Hvitserk celebrating their first night as a wed couple and before he had forced to stay in Kattegat and suffer under the roof of the Great Hall.

Things wouldn't change with a couple of romantic thoughts. After all, any time you had one of those things had the tendency to become even more wild between Ubbe and yourself. As far as you stayed in the comfort of your chamber – away from everyone and their drama – you were safe.

Your child was the only person you needed around and Ubbe was the opposite – the person you definitely hated to have around. He and his new wife were the people you wanted to avoid and you were going to try.

Tag list: @bruher, @utterlyhopeful-fics, @hypocritic-trash-baby, @fofisstilinski, @brianochka, @thelirofnorthlands

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fofisstilinski · 7 months

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Vikings

Oh my god, I just watched Vikings and I'm in love. I'll write ideas for one shots (and series).

If you are a writer and need ideas, you can message me .

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fofisstilinski · 11 months

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𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍!

. •* • ☆ ° . DEAN WINCHESTER . ° ☆ • * • .

PAIRING: dean winchester x fem reader

REQUESTED: no

SYPNOSIS: nsfw headcannons with dean winchester

WARNINGS: SEXUAL THEMES (18+), strong language, dirty talk, spit kink, choking kink, dom dean, titty fucking,mentions of sex, car sex, drunk sex, (+ oral) and cockwarming!

A/N: this is super short lol - so sorry for that. i’m really tired, but let me know if y’all want a part two!! + also thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoy, much love, xx

* • ♡︎ ° . 💌, —

• says the most dirty and filthy things - all in an attempt to get you worked up, which almost always works!

• gentle and soft kisses - lips, face, neck, chest, stomach, thighs, everywhere!

• almost always leaves behind some sort of mark - his way of showing people that you belong to him!

• "You’re so pretty baby," - "Look so gorgeous laid out for me."

• the KING of giving head - this man literally adores going down on you. his favorite thing about the long nights with you.

• quickies are always on his mind - any time he passes somewhere he thinks he can have his way with you without being caught he’s taking a mental note to do exactly that later

• "You're so fucking addictive," - "Can never get enough of you."

• the biggest tease ever - trails his lips all over your thighs as you squirm and beg for him

• rarely ever allows you to take charge - dean prefers being on top and being the one in control

• drunk sex - happens more often than people think, whenever he drinks dean can become super clingy and touchy

• loves to tie you up - rope? sure. tie? yes. handcuffs? ALWAYS.

• all up in your ear like - "You’re so good for me," or "Always so ready to take me, aren’t you?"

• car sex - loves to take you in the back of his car, loving the way your skin clings to the leather seats and the windows fog up

• boobs - dean loves boobs, he loves to lay his head on your chest, his face falling between them, having his cheeks SMUSHED. goes absolutely fucking feral when he’s able to fuck them, all covered in spit and cum, he loves that. dean also loves to see the way that they bounce as he pounds into you, roughly

• "Fuck baby, tits look so pretty," - "So big, so swollen for me." ^^

• shower sex - since the two of you are on call every minute of your lives, there’s rarely ever time to take two separate showers, especially since sam had to shower too. which meant that the two of you usually took one together, which almost always ends in sex

• JEALOUS SEX - that’s it

• the biggest advocate about women cumming first - dean won’t allow himself to cum before you have. he usually pulls two to three orgasms from you before he allows himself to let go

• has the biggest spit and choking kink known to man - (let me know if y’all want a fic about this)

• definitely a fan of overstimulation - either way, but especially loves when he’s doing it to you. it’s just the way that your body twitches and you whimper from his touch that drives him wild

• "Awh, baby, - What’s wrong?" - "Can’t take anymore?"

• has his own sex playlist for you

• COCKWARMING - this usually only ever happens if he’s super busy or upset with you, he’ll make you sit on his cock and wait until he’s ready to pleasure you on his own

• favorite positions are; missionary - he loves to look at you, admire you. // doggy — loves being able to pin you down against the mattress and use you as he pleases. // cowgirl; but not the traditional cowgirl, he likes when you’re on top, but held close to him, chest against chest as he rolls your hips on him.

• almost always gets a boner when you scold him for something - what can he say, you’re sexy when you’re angry

• gentle sex whenever either of you are upset or hurt

• absolutely will fuck your face - thrusting roughly as spit dribbled down your chin and tears burned your eyes (he LOVES that shit)

—

TAGLIST: @all4t-bonex @blondeocean246 @bouquetbrandt @devilbysurprise @magicalmelodies1017 (if you would like to added to the taglist for one (or any) of my fics, let me know here and i’ll add you)

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fofisstilinski · 1 year

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omg , and Yes , fuck dean

Lawful Balance: Part Six

Word Count: 2.1k Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, eventual Sam Winchester x Reader Warnings: PTSD, cursing, cheating, murder, alcohol consumption. A/N: The moment ya’ll have been waiting for, finally finding out what has Dean so goddamn wound up and depressed. This is a literal rollercoaster and is thus the catalyst to the beginning of Sam… Hope ya’ll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS WELCOME - IT FUELS ME.

The week dragged.

It really did.

You had a quick meeting with Claire that next morning to run over the few notes you'd gathered from Sam, and then excused yourself for a cup of coffee.

You busied yourself with your paperwork for the rest of the week, handed off some meetings to coworkers and took yourself out for lunch each day. Why? Frankly the firm was busy with the latest case for Dean, and you didn't have any new clients now that you'd handed off your case with Sam. You were embracing the short period of solitude and focused on your mental health, because frankly, you were going to be a pretty shitty wife if you went home miserable each day.

On the Friday at the end of the next week, you finished up early. After making some adjustments to your schedule next week, which was going to be fairly busy, you gathered your belongings and went to bid your assistant goodbye when you spotted a tall, beautiful blonde with curly hair. She was talking to Hanson, twirling her hair around her index finger and smiling, but poor Hanson was noticeably flustered.

“I'm sorry, Mrs Winchester, but for legal reasons I am not allowed to dispose of any information and you must speak with your lawyer.”

You stopped and frowned, glancing over at Hanson. His eyes briefly spotted you and he shook his head, ever so slightly, so you figured you would leave.

That was Sam’s wife. What is she doing here?

Blinking rapidly and shaking your head as if doing so was going to rapidly diminish your thoughts, you left the building.

When you arrived home, Dean wasn’t home.

So, you decided to do what any sane or insane person would do… snoop.

You started gently fishing through the paperwork on his desk, placing everything back in its place, albeit a little neater than Dean had left it. You ruffled through his draws, getting frustrated that you hadn't found anything when…

What the hell?

Your fingernail caught on a false bottom, so you pulled the draw off it's hinges and dumped it's contents on the floor. Propping the draw on his desk, you started picking at the false bottom, internally chastising yourself, even when you successfully caught the corner and ripped it out and tossed it to the floor.

What are these?

Before you, were old, handwritten letters.

A video tape.

A folder with CLASSIFIED written across it.

Photos.

And a gun.

Your eye twitched as you stared at the gun, deciding you didn't even want to touch it, but you pulled everything else out to look at it.

At this point, you felt completely overcome with pure need for information.

You'd spent years in this stupid routine with a husband who shows you little affection or attention, who turns into an asshole when his brother shows up and refuses to tell you anything about everything.

Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back, they say.

You opened a letter first, and saw that it was Dean writing to Sam, addressed, but never sent.

I’m so sorry.

I can never forgive myself for what I did. I was drunk, we thought you were dead and never coming back. Still, it wasn't right. But please, don’t tell Y/N. I'll do anything, Sam. Anything.

Please write to me.

Dean.

You swallowed hard, your eyes dry as bone but emotions were beginning to boil from the deepest pits of your stomach. You had no true idea what this meant, and before you jumped to any conclusions, you needed to find out.

You opened the CLASSIFIED file next, and found a bunch of case files and classified information on the case that Dead lead a couple years ago.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?!”

You looked up, jaw clenched, to find Dean, his eyes wide and face distraught. His coat and belongings tossed onto the floor, his body curved toward you in some form of defense.

“You want to tell me what this is?”

“Y/N! Why were you going through my shit?”

“Yeah, alright, I'll give you that. I shouldn't have. But I had this… this need I couldn't ignore, and that was the blatant lack of information my husband has told me and I got curious. So before you take another damn step into this room, tell me… what, is, this?”

Dean clenched his jaw, his eyes now narrowed a little.

“What did you read?”

You proceeded to read him the letter you read, followed by throwing the classified folder towards him and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Explain. What has this got to do with the letters?”

“Y/N.”

“Enough!” You screamed, wiping a stray tear from your eye. “Tell me.”

“The guy, Jack, that psycho fucker? He knew people. He said he knew some guy who knew some guy who worked with Sam in the military. Said if I didn't drop the case then he was gonna kill him.”

Your eyes widened. “What,” you whispered.

“Then, he sent me that tape…” he pointed to the draw, and you broke eye contact to quickly stare at it. “Of him sawing off some guys leg before he got caught and was in holding. He told me that would be Sam, or you, if I didn't drop it. He fucking threatened my entire family.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Your voice was soft, a struggle.

Dean shook his head slightly, wiping a hand down his face. “I was ordered not to. We almost went into witness protection.”

“But you won that case.”

He pulled a face, as if that made it any better. “Yeah, I did. Eventually. But that case fucking destroyed me.”

“Is that why you started drinking?”

“Yes.”

“What…. but… I feel like there's something else you're not telling me.”

Dean collapsed on the floor, but you made no move toward him. He leaned on the hinds of his legs and looked down at his lap. “Then Sam went missing. We had an officer show up at work telling me that he was MIA, there were search parties but they didn't know if he was dead or alive. I thought…” Dean sighed heavily. “I went to Jack at the prison and he just laughed in my face. The fucker was calling my bluff. At least that's what I thought. So I went to Sam’s house and spoke to Jess. Another officer showed up and said that he'd been missing for weeks, and presumed dead.”

You slowly sat down in Dean’s office chair, trying to allow the information to soak in. “Then what?”

“Then we got drunk and mourned the loss of her husband, my brother, before I fucked his wife in his bed.” Dean said that was such bitterness, he practically spat the words out.

You couldn't believe your ears.

“Excuse me?”

“I cheated on you, Y/N.”

“You…. you cheated… with… with Jessica?”

Dean stayed silent, but the silence was deadly.

All of a sudden, your world felt broken. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and everything went dark.

When you woke up, you were lying in your bed, and Dean was kneeling beside you, his body bent over and shaking. You announced your awakening by groaning and rubbing your face, and when your eyes reopened, you saw Dean’s bloodshot eyes staring back at you. The usual emerald green of his eyes were dark and grey.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry. There is nothing … NOTHING that I’ll ever do that'll fix what I did. I won't make an excuse. I'll tell it how it is. I was broken. I did a stupid thing and made it worse. I am sorry.”

You stared at his broken face, and, even surprising yourself, reached up and slapped him as hard as you could across his face. His head recoiled, and he slumped further into himself.

“I deserved that.”

You wiped angrily at the tears cascading down your face, then. Your chest hurt, your stomach was in knots and your throat burned with all the emotions you refused to let out right now.

“What time is it?” You asked him.

“9:30.”

“I’m going out.”

“Y/N, you shouldn't go out like this-” he reached out but you pulled out of his grasp.

“You don't get to tell me what to do.”

You left the house in a haste, not bothering to change your clothes, fix your ruined makeup or worry about a shower. You just jumped into your car and sped off to the nearest bar.

3 shots of tequila, 2 beers and 4 Long Island Iced Teas later, you were dancing on top of the bar to ABBA’s Dancing Queen, your hair wild and makeup cleaned off, shoes on the floor and feeling completely and utterly free.

Halfway through your drinks, you called Kevin and Charlie to join you. This was extremely unusual for you, and strange that you had their number despite never reaching out in the past, but considering all of what you'd found out today, you decided “fuck it.”

“Fuck my husband,” you said cheerily to Kevin, who was twirling his straw in his drink absentmindedly.

“Well I'd assume you do,” he said and laughed.

“No, I mean, he's an ass. I'm not talking to him right now.”

“What did he do?”

You grinned so wide, like the Cheshire Cat, that Kevin reared back with wide eyes. “You okay?”

“He cheated on me, Tran!”

“He did what!” exclaimed Charlie, her mouth agape.

“Yep. So, here's to the first night of my freedom. Fuck Dean!” You held up your drink to clink glasses with Kevin and Charlie, and they shook their heads as they echoed your sentiment. “Fuck Dean.”

After some rounds of darts, and one more drink, the three of you were perched at the bar, sharing each others’ current dramas.

“Honestly dating these days is ridiculous,” Charlie huffed, pushing her drink away and letting her head fall against the wood of the bar. “It's either, I'm not into cosplay, or, I don't want anything serious, or, I'm straight. Like damn, have some fun for a change why don't you? I'm tired.”

“Hey, at least you can get a date,” Kevin countered. “Nobody wants the Tran.”

You giggled. “Maybe because you call yourself ‘the Tran.’”

“But it's my name!”

“No no no, Kevin, that's your name. Lose the Tran. It screams boring.”

“Hey!”

You and Charlie laughed, and for the first time all day, you felt good. There were no negative emotions clouding your judgement, or ruining your day… only fun times and tasty drinks.

“So what's the deal with Sam?” Charlie asked after a few moments.

You bit your lip, finding no filter when you opened your mouth. “Dean’s brother.”

“Oh?” Kevin asked. “The guy you gave to Claire for his divorce?”

You nodded.

“Damn. Keepin’ it in the family,” Kevin sassed.

You playfully thwacked him on the bicep.

You hadn't really thought of Sam that way. Well, maybe not really. Not including the time he popped up as a real life apparition after sex with your husband. But that was a one off thing, right?

“He’s really cute. And tall,” Charlie said, fanning herself. “If I wasn't gay, I'd be all up on that like a fucking coconut tree.”

You cackled loud with your whole body, almost falling off your barstool and forcing yourself to grip the bar til your knuckles turned white.

“You should call him,” Kevin said, nudging your phone. “Right now. Do it.”

“Nooooo, that's a bad idea, I'm drunk.” “All the better!” They both said, winking at you.

You grabbed your phone and quickly pulled his contact up, but paused, your finger hovering over the call button.

Maybe this is a bad idea.

Who am I if I bounce to his brother after finding out he cheated?

Am I even single now?

Oh it's harmless, who said I would do anything but have a conversation with the man?

Fuck it.

You pressed the button and brought the phone to your ear.

He answered on the second ring.

“Y/N?” “Sammy!” You slurred, and giggled. “Everything ok? You sound… drunk.” “Maaaaybe.” You hiccuped.

You could practically hear Sam’s eyebrows when he responded. He frowns when he's concerned. “What happened?”

“Can't I just have fun?” “Y/N,” he said, lowly this time. You shrugged, knowing he couldn't see it. “Dean.”

Sam sighed heavily on the other end of the phone. “He told you.”

“Yup!” You popped the ‘P’. “Where are you?”

Kevin and Charlie were winking at you, silently encouraging you and making you laugh.

“Harvelle’s.” “I'll be there in ten. Don't move.” Then the line went dead. “Ooop, shit, he's coming,” you announced to your friends, before joining them on the dance floor for another ABBA song.

Taglist: @alexsoenomel @maddiebwrites @ladysparkles78 @stoneyggirl2 @jdmswife @supraveng @ophir-pacifica @dawnissunnysideup @zeppette @fandomoniumflurry @iamsapphine @hobby27 @mcotton0928

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fofisstilinski · 1 year

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mean dom xavier mean dom xavier 🥺🥺🥺🥺

slapping spitting facefucking rough sex finger sucking allllofffit dark mean dom xavier is the love of my life 🥺

omgie imagine being new at nevermore and he develops an obsession with you because you're so quiet and naturally submissive so he decides to make you his 🥺 maybe one day he's pinned you against a wall and is tormenting you and you accidentally moan or call him sir or just say 'sorry daddy' 🥺 so hides you in his art shed and takes you over and over again 🥺 loves seeing you cry 🥺 sluts you out completely 🥺 mean dom xavier mean dom xavier ☺️

love this. abso-fucking-lutely

MEANIE - xavier thorpe

Being new at Nevermore was not easy. Having to transfer mid year was not ideal. But your powers were getting out of control. So here you were sitting in Principle Weems office while your parents sweet talked her into letting you transfer mid year. Your parents being lawyers half time worked in your favor and you were now sitting in an empty dorm room without a roommate.

The uniforms were absolutely hideous, with the skirts going below the knee and they were a bright shade of purple. You got dressed in the uniform before quickly heading to your first class, not stopping by the quad as one of the students told you earlier. You sat down in one of the chairs and soon after other students started to pile in, all of them avoiding sitting next to you, until a tall boy with long hair walked in and sat right next to you without hesitation. “I’m Xavier.”

“I’m y/n.”

After a couple of weeks at Nevermore you and Xavier had grown closer. And even if he didn’t know it, you were obsessed with him. Whenever you could you’d hang out with him, in his shed, his dorm room, the quad, and even classes. Xavier didn’t mind as it felt nice having you always around following him like a little puppy, he had to stop himself multiple times a day from picking you up and just fucking you in front of everyone.

You were walking to his dorm room having the key in your hand. You insert the key into the lock before walking into the dorm room seeing Xavier standing there waiting for you, “hi, Xavi.” You meeked out walking right in front of him and looking up at him through your eyelashes. He walked closer and closer to you causing you to back up until you hit the door and you were stuck there looking up at Xavier. You felt your body sink down at his stare.

You whimpered. “You gonna cry?” He asked tautly gripping your neck. You shook your head at his question knowing it was a lie. He let go of your neck before slapping you across the face making a whine come from your chest. “Let’s go.” He said and grabbed your arm and dragged you outside into the woods, “Xavie, my legs hurt.” You complain and his grip on your arm tightens. He brought you all the way out to his art shed. “Xavi! Please.” You begged not wanting to spend the weekend locked in his shed, with your consent of course ;). (consent is sexy)

“You should’ve thought about that before deciding to be a fucking brat all day.” Xavier explained shoving you into the shed turning the little light on inside revealing the dusty mattress he snuck in from his room, it being Rowan’s old bed. You struggled against his grip, it being no use as he was stronger then you, and he threw you onto the mattress before unbuckling his pants and pulling his cock out. He grabbed your hair making you sit up right in front of his cock it leaking with precum.

He pumped his cock a few times before you opened your mouth waiting for him to facefuck you, before he shoved his cock into your mouth he slapped you with it and then thrusted into your mouth. Your eyes bulge and you gag around his cock only earning a harsh pull to your hair as a warning.

No words were said between them as Xavier was chasing his release and his thrusts into your mouth were getting sloppy. He let out a low groan as his cum shot down your throat. “Swallow it.”

You swallowed his cum back along with some of your tears that fell in. “There’s my pretty little whore.” He said stroking your cheek feeling the tears on his hands before landing another slap to your face. He gave a gesture with his head signaling you to lay down. You did so and he ripped your pants off with your panties, your pussy glistening with wetness. He stuck two fingers into your tight hole making you moan out, “Xavi!”

He went slow with his movements before taking his fingers out and before you had the chance to whimper his fingers filled your mouth. You moan around his fingers grabbing his wrist. Your tongue moves gracefully around his fingers making sure to clean off all the juices from his fingers.

Xavier pulled his fingers out and wiped them on your face. He lined his dick up with your entrance giving you no time to adjust before ruthlessly fucking into you, “f-fuck!” You sob tears streaming down your face. Xavier scoffed at you as he continued to pound into you at a godly speed. Your sobs were music to his ears encouraging him to go faster and harder. “Xavie, I- im going to cum.” You mustered out and his hand reached up and curled around your neck. “Cum for me.”

You hit your climax and your body rutted against the mattress as he was still pounding into you. You try and push him away as it was starting to hurt. He pulled out making you sigh in relief before he flipped you over onto your stomach and made you hike your ass up as he started to pound in from the back ignoring your whines. Xavier grabbed your hair making your back arch and the tears that were covering the mattress to be visible, “my little slut can’t handle her own boyfriend’s cock. pathetic.” He degraded shoving your head down into the mattress muffling your cries.

He thrusted in as much as he could shooting his cum into your pussy before pulling out and watching it drip out of your pussy. You didn’t move after he pulled out, you just collapsed against the bed exhausted.

How were you going to be able to do this for a whole weekend, whenever he needed help getting release.

requests are open!

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fofisstilinski · 2 years

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OMG i love it , thank you so much ❤

Everybody Makes Mistakes

Request from @fofisstilinski Reader does something wrong in an investigation and everyone gets angry. Reader later gets hurt so he apologize to her for his actions

Walking into work today nobody really talks to me and I knew why because of the failed mission yesterday. Sitting at my desk I run a hand through my hair seeing Spencer eyeing me from his own desk until I got up stomping over to him arms crossed over my chest. "Spencer how many times can I say I'm sorry for you hurting your leg?" He was chasing an unsub and was about to handcuff him when I accidentally fell down the stairs making my gun accidentally go off. He has to wear a cast for a week's but they got the bullet out no problem. "Y/n, I can't forgive you for this. Hotch has kept me here when I was going to visit my mom since our next case is in Vegas. Now because of you I can't so thanks a lot!" Throwing my hair over my shoulder I turned on my heels exiting the building. Getting in my car I turned the key driving through the city even though it was starting to rain heavy outside.

Sitting at a red light it changed to green where I started to go until someone slammed into the side of my truck. My head hits the steering wheel and I don't remember anything after that. I hear a beeping sound in my ear squinting my eyes opened I could see I was laying in a hospital bed. An iv sticking into my left hand before I heard foosteps enter the room suprising me at who it was, Spencer. "Y/n, thank goodness you're alright. I was so worried that you wouldn't wake up from the accident. I'm so so sorry for what I said earlier. I didn't mean I was just upset in the moment." He has tears falling down his face pulling up a chair at my bedside where I give him a confused look across my face. "Spencer, what happened to me. What accident?" He reaches over taking my hand in his with sad puppy dog eyes as he spoke. "Someone ran a red light and crashed into the side of you. You've been in a coma for a few days where I was terrified you wouldn't wake up."

"I can't believe I got hit like that. What about the case in Vegas how did that go?" I asked knowing that the team must have gone without me since I was in the hospital. Spencer glanced in the direction of the door answering my question. "It went fine actually everybody is in the lobby waiting to see the news. I'll go get them." Before he could leave I snagged his wrist holding him in his place where he raised a brow down at me. "Wait Spencer...I forgive you. I know you wouldn't yell at me and not feel guilty about it." He leans down kissing me quickly until I grab the collar of his shirt deepening the kiss. His right hand runs through my hair until we heard a camera flash and Garcia squealing. "Awe they made up with a kiss. So adorable." Spencer and I broke away both blushing like crazy.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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fofisstilinski · 2 years

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Rotten Chapter 1 {Steve Harrington x fem!reader}

Summary: When something horrible happens to Y/n, her friends find her. Platonic Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley x reader. Poc and plus-size friendly.

Warnings: Rape!!, cursing, panic attack, mentions of weed, hyperventilation, vomiting, blood, vaginal bruises.

Yeah, so I wrote this to deal with some things. You know how it goes.

"Need a ride?" Eddie Munson asked, as his van came to a halt next to Steve Harringtons car.

There was smoke coming from the engine and Robin and Nancy stood behind him, annoyance written on their faces.

The light rain that was falling only made everything worse.

Steve turned to the Metalhead, as Eddie just smirked smugly with the window on his passenger side down.

"We're managing just fine." Harrington answered, before once again facing the vehicle as if he had any idea how to fix it.

Nancy Wheeler was the first to step forward, open the door of the backseat and slip inside, which caused a light chuckle from Eddie.

Robin followed her immediately, and Steve shot her a betrayed glance that she answered with a shrug. "I'm not gonna freeze off my ass in the middle of the night, while it's raining, might I add, just because you're too proud to get into someone else's car." She told him, as she walked around the van to get into the seat behind Eddie.

"Come on, Harrington. Or I might just leave you here." Eddie joked. Steve sighed dramatically, before closing the engine hood, locking his automobile and getting into the passenger seat.

"My dad is going to kill me." He mumbled, as the other man started to drive again. The music that came from the radio was turned down, it was Eddies highly valued Exodus tape, the one Y/n gifted him for his last birthday.

"At least you won't get yourself hospitalised for hypothermia." Nancy laughed lightheartedly, causing the other to smile. "Yeah, I guess." Steve answered, as he leaned against the door and looked out of the window, his eyes followed the raindrops on the glass, like a child waiting for one of them to win the imaginary race.

They drove for a few minutes, the music still quiet, before Eddie cleared his throat.

"Where do you want me to drop you off anyways? Like, what was your plan? It's..." He glanced at the clock. "It's almost midnight, after all."

Robins gaze catched his in the rearview mirror. The blonde raised her brow. "We could ask you the same now, couldn't we?"

The man shrugged, as he leaned back a bit. "I was at a party. One of these preppy ones that I would never attend out of free will." He told them, which surprised the others.

"Why were you there, if you didn't wanna be?" Nancy asked, but not teasingly. It was a try to lift the awkwardness by holding small talk.

"I was meant to pick up Y/n Y/l/n. You know, promised her I wouldn't let her go home by herself. When I showed up I almost wasn't let in, I couldn't find her anywhere, then some cheerleaders told me she walked off with a one of these laundry-basket guys." Eddie sounded a tad hurt by her ditching him.

"Well." Robin chuckled. "Good for her I guess."

It was quiet after that, the music once again dominating. Eddie silently hummed along, until Steve broke the silence. "We wanted to go to the exact party you're coming from." He finally revealed, and Eddie laughed.

"My god, why would anyone voluntarily go there." His laugh was infectious, as the rest tagged along just a second before going quiet again.

"You and Y/n are pretty close, right?" Steve turned to face Eddie for the first time since getting into the car. Robin mentally face-palmed herself. How could someone make a crush any more obvious than asking her best friend if they were dating?

Eddie nodded, eying Steve suspiciously.

"We've been best friends since I stepped on her sandcastle in second grade. Of course we're close." Eddie answered and the girls on the backseat exchanged a glance.

Y/n was involved into the entire paranormal shit since the beginning, she was always there. She walked to the Wheelers house to pick out outfits before parties with Nancy since they were fourteen, she worked together with Steve and Robin, she was even the first person Robin dared to come out to, but she strictly separated these friendships from the one she shared with Eddie. Them smoking weed, judging the cheerleaders when they practiced and making each other mixtapes was just for them. The line started blurring when Eddie got involved into the paranormal shit too. Y/n still tried her best to prevent that. It was a blatantly stupid exchange, they were in the upside down together, they knew who was close and who wasn't. Chances were high Eddie was running to Y/n to tell her Steve had a little crush as soon as they were out of his car.

But neither of the boys said another word, until Eddie asked where he was taking them again, and Steve told him his adress. It wasn't like his parents were home anyways, so there was no issue with some friends staying over.

The Metalhead finally turned the music up, as 'Bonded by blood' was playing.

The crew fell silent once again.

That was, until Nancy saw a figure walking down the side of the road, dressed entirely unfitting for the rain (despite it being summer), and she soon recognised that person as Y/n Y/l/n herself.

"There's Y/n!" She blurted out and pointed into her direction. Eddie laughed, as if she was joking, until her spotted her himself and slowed the car, Steve rolled down the passenger window.

"Hey sweetheart, get in the car!" The Metalhead exclaimed. Y/n turned to him, she seemed startled, almost disturbed with her wet hair clinging to her face and her arms wrapped around her body.

"Eddie." She stated, her voice fragile.

The car now stood, and Y/n noticed that her best friend was not alone, as Steve opened his door to make space for her on the passenger seat.

"My lady." He joked, holding the door open for her. She recognised Robin and Nancy in the back, as they were waving lightly.

Y/n swallowed, still keeping her distance.

"I don't want to stain the seat." She stated, her eyes meeting Steve's briefly, before she quickly looked away again. Her voice sounded incredibly hollow and all of them knew that something was wrong. "A little rain won't do damage." Eddie chuckled to cheer her up a bit, but she just nodded hesitantly before slowly walking towards the door. Steve still held it open, and she stopped to look at him, whispering a 'thank you' his way while she sat down. He closed her door, before getting into the backseat as well, pushing Robin further into the car.

Eddie started driving once again, as the rain stopped and he turned off the windshield wipers.

"Their car broke down. I came to pick you up, like I promised, but you were already gone." The brunette informed her. Y/n only nodded again, her fingers playing with the hem of her skirt.

"Are you alright?" Robin was the first to ask the question they all had. Y/n didn't react at first, then she opened her mouth and closed it again, before taking a deep breath.

"Sure." She shrugged, but her voice was still so brutally hollow and Steve could feel his chest tighten in worry. Eddie licked his lips, trying his best not to sound like a complete ass despite being a bit mad that she wasn't there when he came to that damn party, just for her. "Did that guy ditch you?" Her best friend asked, once again turning down the volume of his music.

"What?" Y/n stuttered, as she properly looked at the Metalhead for the first time.

Eddie shrugged. "Some girls told me you left with someone from the team. I mean, I don't like them, you know, but I thought you'd be fine. But he's a dick if he ditched you." He rambled.

Y/n could feel tears dwelling up, but she swallowed them as she turned away from her friends again. It took her a moment to form an answer, because she feared the tears would actually fall if she talked. And once she did, she only managed to blurt out an 'oh'.

So that's what everyone thought, huh? That she walked off with 'someone from the team', that she walked off with Jason Carver to have some fun? "Are you sure you're okay?" Nancy urged Y/n, as the latter felt the hand of the brunette woman on her shoulder. She was quick to move away, licking her lips and taking a few breaths before being capable of talking again.

"God, I'm fine. I walked off with some guy, he ditched me, it's not that deep. I'm fine." She reassured her friends, in a tone that made it clear she had no interest in discussing it further.

She leaned her head against the window, shifting on her seat to get as far away from everyone as she could.

Y/n lost focus, still picking at the hem of her skirt until she felt something wet between her legs. Her breathing stopped, before she boldly touched her thigh under her skirt. The car was dark, but as she saw the red liquid that now covered her palm she finally felt the reality wash all over her.

Everything around her got blurry, her head was pounding and suddenly everything was much too loud for her. The lump in her throat felt thicker, as she felt that she had to puke. Her breathing went faster and she gasped for air like a fish out of water, the panic now dominating entirely.

"Eddie, stop the car!" The young woman shrieked, startling the others.

"What? Why?!" Eddie exclaimed, still driving.

"Stop the car!" She told him again, her voice full of panic as she felt unable to breathe and began crying. Eddie hit the brakes abruptly, but as soon as the car stood on the completely empty road, Y/n unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of it.

She could only take three short steps, stumbling a bit until she fell to her knees at the side of the road, blood still on her hands and running down her legs, and threw up into the bushes. The gagging caused even more tears, and at this point it was a disgusting mix of hyperventilating and vomiting and her own blood.

Steve was the first who jumped out of the car to follow her, running around it as fast as he could and putting his hand onto her forehead to hold her while she still threw up. Y/n had no idea who held her, but she was grateful because everything, especially her head, felt so heavy, and without the person who held her she wouldn't be able to kneel anymore. Nancy was quick to follow, already preparing some handkerchiefs and a bottle of water.

Eddie was the one who realised she was bleeding, as he stared at the huge stain on the passenger seat. He felt the need to tell the others, to have them comfirm what was right before him, because he couldn't quite grasp it. His stuttering caught Robins attention, who then noticed it as well.

Her mind started racing, realising where Y/n bled, and then realising that she never just walked off with some guy. As the blonde put two and two together, she could feel tears coming up herself. God, that was what she meant when she said she didn't want to stain the seat...

"Shit, fuck." Robin whispered and walked off, brushing her hands through her face. "Fuck." She stated again, more loudly.

Y/n didn't even hear her, she still panicked as Steve rubbed circles on her back in a desperate attempt to sooth the crying girl.

"Sssssh, you're fine. It'll be fine. I'm right here. I got you, I won't let go." He assured .

Nancy and him exchanged a glance, as Nancy got up and handed Steve the supplies she had prepared.

The brunette woman walked towards Eddie, who got out of the car and seemed so livid, that she thought he was going to explode any second. He made an attempt to walk towards his best friend, but he seemed like he was about to scream, or hit something, anything, and Nancy stopped him.

"You're not being helpful." The brunette told him, but he shook his head. "You haven't seen it yet, have you?" He hissed, pointing to the car. Nancy shook her head in confusion, until the tears that now fell down the Metalheads cheeks got her moving, getting faster with every step until she reached the car and saw it herself.

"No." She breathed out. "No, no, no, no, no..."

Nancy looked at Robin, who never appeared more resigned, a silent conversation going on between them. They turned to Steve, the way he held Y/n, the way she would completely lose halt if he wouldn't be there. The way he whispered soothing words into her ear. They turned to Eddie, who kicked the tire of his car, running his hands through his hair with guilt written all over his face, and they turned to Y/n, understanding of what happened, what was done to her, washing over her, and how she held onto Steve like he was all she had and they thought that the person who did this to her, was worse than any upside down monster could ever be, because he was human.

I'll write a second part if you want one I guess. I'm not even sure if it's okay, I just needed to write this.

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fofisstilinski · 2 years

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talented hands — e.m.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: smut, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, cursing, dirty talk, praising

word count: 1.4k

summary: eddie is a talented guitar player, but you’re curious to know what else he can do with those fingers.

navigation // masterlist // taglist

“Should I play a little song for my favourite girl?” Eddie asked, smiling as he reached for his guitar on the wall. You nodded enthusiastically, always enthralled whenever he would play you some music.

You and Eddie had only been dating for a few weeks now after he asked you out. He had finally gathered the courage, given that he had a crush on you for a long time. God, the moment you said yes, Eddie was the happiest man on earth— and still is. That man is smitten with you at all times, no matter what you do.

Although the two of you were perfectly satisfied with the relationship and with each other, you hadn’t done anything intimate yet. Yes, you occasionally made out with your hands all over each other’s bodies, but that was about it. You opted to take it easy this time because of your previous relationship experiences. You wanted to savour every moment with each other, to really get to know each other without feeling compelled to rush with any sexual acts. Eddie was an amazing boyfriend; you couldn't wish for a better one. He encouraged you to take your time, and he said he'd be ready anytime you were, which was reassuring to hear.

“What song do you want me to play, sweetheart?” he questioned as he sat back down on his bed, his guitar propped on his thigh.

“You’re always letting me pick! I want it to be a surprise this time” he chuckled as he thought for a moment before he began to play. It was a slow song this time. But not a slow song that would lull you to sleep, no. This was the kind of slow song that made you want to rip each other clothes off while kissing passionately.

Your gaze was fully fixed on his gorgeous face as you sat in front of him. Eddie was so focused on playing the guitar, it caused his eyes to shut as he slowly became one with the music. He was so mesmerizing like this, a sight you could never get tired of. You were admiring his exquisite facial expressions until your gaze was drawn to his hands, playing the guitar. His long, delicate fingers, snapping each of the strings so skilfully as if it were the easiest thing in the world. You stared at them intensely as you licked your lips. His focused expression and skilled fingers, all in combination with the sensual song playing on his guitar, were enough to make you drool. But before you even could, he abruptly stopped his movements, snapping you back to reality.

“Why did you stop?” you asked, a puzzled expression on your face as he amusedly stared at you.

“I saw you staring at me”

“Well, yes, you’re very handsome Eddie” you explained, as if it were obvious.

“The funny thing is, my love, you weren’t staring at my face this time” He remarked as he sat back down on his bed after returning his guitar to the wall. You felt your cheeks heat up, as if you’d been caught.

“You’re curious, aren’t you?” he motioned for you to sit on his lap while looking at you with a mischievous smile.

“Curious?” you asked him with furrowed brows as you straddled his lap and rested your arms on his shoulders. He grabbed the back of your head and brought his lips to your ear, his hot breath giving you chills all over your body

“Curious to know what else I can do with them” he whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. God, he was so right. You wanted his hands and fingers all over you. Even inside of you.

“Please, Eddie, show me” you pleaded before crashing your lips on his. You were hungry for him, aching for his touch. His hands travelled from your waist to your butt, squeezing it as he deepened into the kiss.

“Anything for you, my darling” he flipped you over as he was now hovering above you, his lips immediately attacking your neck and his hand sliding beneath your shirt. The cold touch of his metal rings made you wince for a moment, but you soon grew used to it. His hand gently massaged your boob while his other supported himself on the bed before his lips moved to yours, kissing you again.

“Are you sure about this?” he questioned as he looked you in the eyes. You nodded, feeling eager for him to continue.

“I need you to use your words, sweetheart” he instructed as he kissed your cheek, patiently waiting for your response.

“Eddie, I need you, please” you begged, causing him to snicker as his fingers crept slowly to your throbbing core, longing for his touch. He removed your skirt first, followed by your underwear, tossing it somewhere in his room. He took his rings off before hovering over you again, staring deep into your eyes while his fingers moved to your core.

“Hmm so wet for me” he groaned before gathering some of the wetness and rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your eyes fluttered shut before he slid a finger inside while his thumb now massaged your clit. He inserted another finger inside you, stretching your walls as they curled up perfectly, hitting that one spot inside you. It felt so good, exceeding all your expectations. Seeing him play the guitar countless times, you could only imagine, but now, feeling those fingers inside you felt like heaven.

Your hand moved to his crotch, palming his already hard boner over his clothes as he grew more impatient. He stripped you of both your clothes, pausing for a moment to admire your beautiful naked body with a smirk on his face, nearly causing him to drool at the sight.

“Y/n, you are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, you know that?“ you felt your cheeks heat up at his compliments as a shy smile appeared on your face.

He kissed you once more, eagerly this time, before he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing your folds as you grew more impatient with each passing second.

“Eddie, please!” you cried out, not able to wait any longer.

“I want to take my time with you, baby” he murmured before slowly easing himself into you, low groans leaving his mouth as your mouth gaped open at the sensation. It’s been so long ever since you’ve experienced this pleasure, feeling so full and your walls being massaged so perfectly. He felt huge inside of you, completely stretching you out.

“You’re taking me so well” Eddie praised, making it easier for you to relax as you wrapped your legs around his waist. His thrust became deeper, your nails scratching his back as you gasped.

“Fuck, you feel so good” he groaned before speeding up, causing you to moan his name loudly.

After a while decided that you wanted to switch positions, as you didn't want him to do all the work, “Eddie? Can I be on top, p-please?” you stammered in between his brutal thrusts. He slowed down, his face softening into a gentle smile as he pulled out and lay down on the bed underneath you. You hovered over him and gently sank down on him, your hands steadying yourself on his chest. You slowly bounced up and down on him as his hands gripped your hips, guiding you.

“You’re doing so well sweetheart, just like that” he praised as you increased your pace, causing his eyes to flutter shut. He then wrapped his arms around your body and thrusted up into you as you fell forward. You kissed his neck and clenched around him while his grip around you tightened, both of you nearing your release. He quickened his speed and one last powerful thrust was enough to send you over the edge, causing you to see stars as your nails dragged over his skin. Not much later he came as well, spilling himself inside you as he moaned your name, holding you tightly.

You fell off him and lay beside him, trying to recover your breath after having the best orgasm of your life. He got up and quickly helped you clean up after which he smothered you in kisses, making you giggle.

“Y/n, You. Are. So. Beautiful”

navigation // masterlist // taglist

tags: @jexnrey @raccoonsstinkybunns @eddiemattress @missonaryjjm @drayslove @slutforjohnmulaney @fofisstilinski @eichenhouseproperty @matchagreenbailey @romcomsonnetflixstyles @kitkatkaitin @3uph0riiia @changkyunssmiles @leelizzzle @delehosies @screechingtrashkid @nottluvr

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fofisstilinski · 2 years

Text

Please tag me in Jamie Campbell Bower One Shots. I'm obsessed with him.

Anyone who wants help writing about him , or peter ballard , or eddie munson , or steve harrington , can call me.

#jamie campbell bower #jamie campbell x reader #Peter ballard #Peter ballard x reader #Jamie bower #steve harrington #Eddie munson #Steve harrington x reader #Eddie munson x reader

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fofisstilinski · 2 years

Text

7 minutes 🤰🏼

7 Minutes in heaven | Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve try to be more responsible and get to work on time, but you turn his plans and make him late

Word count: 0.8k

Warning: smut

Request: Hey bae so i was thinking what about prompt 11 with the reader and steve where they had just woken up and hes trying to leave for work and its just super fluffy maybe with some smut pretty pleaseee🫶 (11. a kiss that says “we’re late for work, but let’s be later”)

You tried to slip in while Steve was in the shower, but he had locked the door to keep you out, knowing that if you got in with him, he’d be late for work.

Defeated - and pouting -, you went back to bed and waited for him.

Ten minutes later, he walked into his bedroom with pants on and damp, unstyled hair. He had tamed the hair on his chest, making it a little less bushy and wild. Unlike what he told Dustin, the ladies did not dig it.

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fofisstilinski · 2 years

Text

i love this , and the bônus was awesome .❤

Thanks

a new hell

requested by: @fofisstilinski :)

warnings: blood, 1 mention of date-rape-drugging (but it does not actually happen), vecna being a gaslighter, angst w/ a happy ending

a/n: reader uses she/her pronouns and refers to herself as “girlfriend” but if you want me to publish a gn version lmk!

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

you don’t remember a lot about the last week. you remember bits and pieces, like a film camera flipping through stop-motion stills. you remembered blood, and yelling, and crying and walking home alone from eddie’s trailer for the first time in almost a year.

there was some other things you remember, too. you remember a voice, a sinister one, telling you things about yourself. things you absolutely hated. you remember closing your eyes and seeing the film strip — the blood, the yelling, the crying. you remember opening the fridge and seeing a grandfather clock nesting between the orange juice and egg carton.

it was the last spring break of your high-school career and you were spending it going crazy. well, at least, you thought you were going crazy, until you heard the voice again.

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fofisstilinski · 2 years

Note

i need more this , please

Can I request a Sam x reader imagine where the reader is on hunt with the boys when they disappear out of the blue? And the reader is gone for an extended period of time before Sam and Dean find them but the boys are horrified when they find out what happened to the reader? Extra angst would be nice

This probably wasn’t what you wanted, anon dear, but it’s what my brain came up with. ...Oops…

Warnings: angsty angst angst

“Y/N?”

You freeze in the middle of the canned goods aisle, one hand going to your stomach to quell the instant pit that formed there at the sound of his voice.

Oh god...It...it can’t be…

“Y/N?”

Your name shakes when he says it again, and then a hand is on your arm, slowly turning your towards him.

“Oh my god, we thought you were dead.”

And then he’s crushing you into himself, tight and hard, and your arms go to protect your belly instinctively as you struggle to breathe.

You feel him freeze around you, recognizing that you aren’t hugging him back, and he slowly lets you go as he takes a step back to really look at you.

“Dean,” you manage to whisper. “You… you’re… Hi.”

His brow is in a deep furrow now, calculating the situation. “What the hell happened, Y/N? You were there with us on that werewolf hunt, and then you just...weren’t. And we found bodies, and one of them was a female, and we just… we salted and burned you… what we thought was you.”

He runs a hand down his face, takes a deep breath, and when he looks at you again the haze in his green eyes brings tears to yours.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was never supposed to know.

“But you’re alive. God, you’re alive. Why didn’t you call us? Did something happen?”

It’s the fact that he can’t fathom you leaving, the fact that he’s searching for a logical answer to your absence, that’s what sends a sharp stab through your gut.

You can’t stay here. Your resolve isn’t that strong.

“I… I have to go. Dean, I’m so sorry.”

He catches your arm again, “What? No. No way in hell. Y/N, what’s going on?”

Then he looks at your left hand.

And sees the ring there.

And his entire face changes.

“You left us. On purpose. You left, and you let us think that you were dead.”

His voice has gone steel cold, rising with each syllable. People around you are starting to notice, giving you side eyes as they push their shopping buggies past you.

“Dean-”

“No. Save it. I understand everything now.”

With one more look, he turns his back on you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his retreat.

“Wait!” you call after him, unable to stop yourself. He pauses and turns halfway to look at you. You spit it out before you can stop yourself, “How’s… how’s Sam?”

Dean’s eyes go dark, “You don’t get to ask that question anymore.”

And then, in a blink, he’s gone.

You stand there, feeling like you just lived through a nightmare. You’d dreamed about them, many times in the two months since you’d left. But not like this. Never like this.

You go through the checkout line like a zombie. Use the clicker over ten times to find your car because the whole parking lot looks foggy through the tears streaming down your face. Pull the fake ring off your finger that you use to keep men from getting too close. Put your hands over the small bump forming beneath your shirt.

Sam can’t know. Sam can never know. This is for Sam. Move on, for Sam.

It’s the same thing you’d said to yourself when you found out you were pregnant.

The same thing you said when you made your plan to disappear.

The same thing you say now as you turn the key in the ignition, unable to stop yourself from looking for a black car as you drive away.

You don’t see the Impala.

You don’t see him.

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fofisstilinski · 2 years

Text

omg

Dream a little dream of me

Title: Dream a little dream of me…

Square filled for @howbadcanitbebingo: Being trapped and sex must be ensue

Summary: It’s your birthday and one of your favorite fantasies comes true.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Soldier Boy x Reader, Jensen Ackles x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Words: 3.333 😂

Warnings: language, naughty dreams, fantasies, fangirling, RPF, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, taking turns, creampie, a hint of oral (male rec), breeding kink, cuckolding (kinda), I’ll label this slightly dub-con (not to me but before anyone complains…), spanking, I mention gunplay, mentions of anal sex (nothing happens, though), marathon fucking, Plot? What plot? it’s basically just fucking with Jensen Ackles’ characters

A/N: It’s my birthday and I do with them what I want to.

It’s a little past 1 am when you finally shut the TV off. You rub your tired eyes, yawning as you must get up for work in not six hours. Binge-watching all episodes of The Boys after you just had a Supernatural marathon wasn’t your best idea.

You can’t help it. Jensen Ackles will be the death of you, or rather his characters Dean Winchester and Soldier Boy.

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fofisstilinski · 2 years

Text

His House (2)

Summary: You are in trouble and need fast cash. For the longest time you tried to be a good girl, now you need to break the rules all over again.

Pairing: Mobster!Dean Winchester x Thief!Reader

Characters: Jimmy “Cas” Novak, Sam Winchester, Crowley, Carson Brady

Warnings: angst, language, breaking and entering, criminal reader, mafia au, implied sexual harassment (not Dean), threats, scared reader, kind of hostage situation, there is a tiny hint of fluff, mentions of characters death/murder/crimes

Words: 2,1 k

Divider by @firefly-graphics

<< Part 1

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fofisstilinski · 2 years

Text

Wrong House

Summary: You are in trouble and need fast cash. For the longest time you tried to be a good girl, now you need to break the rules all over again.

Pairing: Mobster!Dean Winchester x Thief!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, breaking and entering, criminal reader, mafia au, implied sexual harassment (not Dean), threats, scared reader, kind of hostage situation, Dean is not a soft mobster here

Divider by @firefly-graphics

“You can do this,” you whisper to yourself. “You’ll go inside, get all their shiny things and money, and get out again.” Your fingers are trembling when you try to get the lockpick out of your pocket. “Shit, it’s been too long since I broke into a house.”

Your landlord’s words still echo in your mind. He will kick you out if you don’t get him the money you owe him or give him something sweeter. You shudder at the image, not wanting to end up on your knees in front of your bastard of a landlord.

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fofisstilinski · 2 years

Text

more , please

That Wicked Love – Part 1 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Spencer pinned after you for two years until he dared to ask you out. Everything looks amazing until the second date comes around and Spencer stands you up. After disappearing for three months, he comes back, but things turned complicated enough to change your lives forever.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+ / MINORS DNI. Not actually explicit smut, but heavy topics. Having sex is mentioned. Nudity – part of - is described. The main characters discuss pregnancy and abortion topics. Angst: would you expect something else from me?

A/N: I wrote this based on this request. I thought of making it in one part, but I already have 9k written, so I split it. I hope you like it!

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When Spencer Reid asked you out on a date, all the butterflies in your stomach went crazy.

Two years have passed since he started to frequent your bookstore. He made a habit of visiting at least once a week. In the first months, you didn’t exchange any words, but as you saw him as a regular customer, you started talking to him. He was a shy guy, but he loosened up with time.

To say that you developed a massive crush on him was an understatement. And you didn’t know it, but he felt the same for you. He started to bring your favorite coffee every time he visited you. Those types of gestures were part of your love language, and you were fascinated.

You thought about making the first move, but you didn’t want to scare Spencer. So you waited. You waited for almost two years, the time that Spencer used to collect the courage to ask you out.

The first date was wonderful. Spencer picked you up from your place with a bouquet in his hands. You guys went to dinner at a cute restaurant and walked in the nearest park from your building. You talked a lot, and you swore Spencer was the most adorable human being you had known.

But something went wrong. When the second date was about to happen, he stood you up.

He didn’t call you or visit your bookstore anymore. You waited for any news from him for some weeks, but after a month and a half, you assumed he had lost interest.

Maybe Spencer Reid was like the other guys you knew after all.

Three months later, your jaw almost fell when Spencer crossed the door of your bookstore. He looked different, though. You noticed.

Spencer let some stubble grow on his face; his hair was more disveleshed than usual; he wasn’t wearing a sweater vest under his jacket; instead, he was wearing a black dress shirt, black slacks, and a dark blue tie loosened around his neck.

But what surprised you the most was the confidence he showed when he went direct to talk to you.

Spencer apologized for standing you up, explaining that he had to be away and not have any contact with other people for three months because of his job. Spencer told you that he came back just a couple of days ago, and he was re-adjusting to his routine.

You knew he worked for the FBI and that his job was dangerous, so you believed in his words, although you wanted to be mad at him.

The excitement of seeing him again suppressed any red flag that could appear at that moment. The same excitement you exhibited when he asked you out again, promising that he wouldn’t miss it this time.

You said yes without thinking twice.

But this time, there was no cute restaurant or a walk in the park. You ended up in a bar, drinking some whisky and chatting. Unlike your first date, when he didn’t stop talking about everything and nothing, now he barely said a couple of sentences. Spencer looked more focused on gawking at your cleavage as you spoke.

Spencer walked you home, and you invited him to come in for a while and hang out. You didn’t expect to go much forward than that, knowing Spencer was a sheepish guy. But when he kissed you, it was a pleasant surprise. He tasted like the whisky he drank earlier. His lips were plump and so kissable that you didn’t want to stop, and it seemed like Spencer didn’t want to stop either; you knew it when the kisses turned more heated, and one of his hands slipped under your shirt, touching your bareback. One thing led to another, and you both ended up in your bed that night. You didn’t complain, though. Who would know that the shy guy that barely talked to you at first could give you some mindblowing sex?

As you didn’t complain when he showed up the following week at your work and asked you if he could walk you home. That night there wasn’t even a drink in a bar, just sex, and Spencer leaving soon after you both were done.

It wasn’t what you expected from a relationship at this point, but your crush on him blurred your senses and the alerts. You left your guards down only because Spencer Reid didn’t seem a bad guy.

You knew his job was stressful too, so you understood.

But this kept happening again and again. Basically, your meetings were to have sex at your place because Spencer didn’t want you to go to his - and he was leaving after. Sometimes he vanished for weeks without a call or text. And when he would dare to show up at your bookstore days after, you already knew the reason.

It hurt you to recognize it, but you became only his partner for casual sex. And you accepted it.

You took your precautions. Sure you did. But sometimes, things happen.

That’s what you told yourself, holding the positive pregnancy test in your hand.

Things happen.

You needed to talk to Spencer about it. He was in a case somewhere. You didn’t even know when he would come back. You both usually didn’t speak much in your passionate encounters.

So you texted him that he should call you when he returned.

And he did. Immediately after the jet touched down in Virginia, he called you.

“Hey. I got your message. I was precisely thinking of coming over to yours now,” Spencer admitted. You could hear his needy voice, something that always gave him up. He needed stress relief. He needed to be in your arms.

You paced in your living room all the time until Spencer knocked on your door.

You already suspected what it could be Spencer’s reaction. But maybe he would surprise you, who knows. You weren’t a couple, strictly speaking, but feelings were involved at this point. You didn’t know what you wanted to do either, but you craved some kind of support from him as a minimum.

You opened the door, and the first thing Spencer did was wrap you in his arms and kiss you deeply. Not saying a word, he pushed you both inside the apartment, and without breaking the kiss, he kicked the door shut with his foot. Quickly his hands were on your blouse, undoing the buttons.

Your mind was a haze. Spencer always managed to melt your brain a mush when he kissed you. You almost give in, but then you remembered what you needed to tell him.

“Spencer...”

“Yeah. I missed you too, baby,” he purred on your lips.

“No. Stop. Spencer, stop!” You managed to say, pushing away from him. He indeed did so—a confused look on his face, though. Why did you stop him? You never did that before.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked, narrowing his eyes. Did something happen? Were you sick?

You didn’t prolong the suspense and blurted out the news.

“I’m pregnant.”

Spencer froze on the spot. His brain halted its functions. What were you saying? Not that he didn’t know what pregnancy was, but ‘you’ and ‘pregnancy’ were two opposed concepts in his mind.

After seeing you didn’t get a response from him, you let out a deep sigh. It was the scenario you knew would happen.

Spencer cleared his throat, still collecting his thoughts.

“You what? No. It can’t be. You told me you were on the pill,” he told you, trying to make sense of the whole thing.

“I was! But surely you can tell me about the success statistics of contraception methods,” you scoffed, defensively crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, but failure tends to associate with careless use. You must be constant in day and time!”

Now was Spencer, who paced in your living room, running his hands through his hair.

“Are you accusing me of being negligent? I did all I should have done. I took all my precautions. I did everything right! And if you didn’t trust me, why didn’t you do something?”

You wouldn’t accept blame that wasn’t on you. Yeah, because it seemed that this was the worse mistake in the world.

“You said you didn’t like condoms!” Spencer defended.

“No! I said that it felt - fuck. You know what? Forget it. The fact is I’m pregnant with your baby. And I don’t know what to do, honestly,” you confessed, exhausted from bickering and not having any reassuring words from the man it supposed might provide them.

Spencer noticed your demeanor. You were overwhelmed, and he wasn’t helping.

“(Y/N). I’m sorry, okay? It wasn’t the best reaction. Although I don’t know what a good response is allowed here,” he told you frankly.

“Tell me about it,” you mumbled.

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” you murmured, sitting on the couch. Maybe you had an idea, but you wanted to know what Spencer did think.

“Do you want to keep it?”

“I don’t know!” You shrieked. “What should I do?” You looked at him with pleading eyes.

“I can’t answer that. It’s your decision,” Spencer reminded you, sitting next to you. His voice was soft, trying to soothe the words coming from his mouth.

“I know! But I’m worried about us, though. I know this is unexpected but - but is it something you want? With me?”

Probably it sounded too straightforward. Your intention wasn’t to scare Spencer, but you needed to know.

The silence that came after your question should have been enough as an answer, but Spencer knew you wanted to hear it from him.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I can’t be a dad. I just can’t,” he confessed—gaze averting yours.

“So you don’t want me to keep it?”

It was naive of you to think that you both could make a real relationship after this? Maybe. But you loved Spencer. You were willing to give it a try.

“I - I - that’s not what I’m saying,” he said, almost in a whisper. You barely could hear it, but his words echoed in you as if he had shouted them.

Again. You were willing, but Spencer wasn’t.

“Oh,” you said at the realization. Not only did Spencer not want to be a part of your baby’s life, but he also didn’t want to be part of yours.

“I’m sorry. I can’t be a good boyfriend, let alone a good husband. I’m not that kind of man,” he apologized. You shook your head.

“I’m not asking you that...”

“You will. Eventually. And I can’t give you that.”

Spencer sighed. He was aware of the weight of his words, but he couldn’t stop it.

“So, that’s it? You will walk away?”

You asked with your voice almost breaking.

It was the end. The real end and you still didn’t know what you would do. You grew so attached to Spencer that even knowing he didn’t love you, a little hope always remained in your heart. But now it was dead.

“I would like to have a better answer for you...”

“Sure you do,” you sobbed. There was no point in hiding your pain.

“But if you want to keep it, I can help you financially. I can pay the child support. And if you don’t want to keep it, I can pay the clinic. There is no problem with that,” he offered. But you were already fed up. It was over, and you needed to cut it off right away to get your shit together.

“I won’t keep it. And I don’t need your money,” you informed, standing from the couch and heading to the entrance door to wide open it. “Now, get out!” Spencer stood, but he wasn’t sure about leaving. You were rightfully upset, but he wanted to do something to make things a little less painful if that was possible. Which it wasn’t.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay…”

“Stop talking about money! That’s not the important thing. Just - just leave, okay? Do it quickly. Get out of my life for once and for all!”

Spencer did what you told him. He didn’t say anything, only glanced at you trying to say he was sorry. You didn’t even look at him. In the second that he was out of your apartment, you slammed shut the door. That was the last time you saw him. Or at least you thought it would be.

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