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rae-writes · 3 months

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angelic alteration

om brothers x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings: nsfw, corruption kink based

synopsis : when Solomon and Diavolo can't fix the problem, it's up to Mc

a/n : thought the angel event (og) could use some more spice so I poured my entire spice rack on it

“Mc…I’m afraid we have bad news.”

You sighed into the receiver, “Yeah? You guys can’t reverse the magic, can you?”

“Nope!” Solomon chirped cheerfully, “Diavolo and Michael’s magic mixed together too strongly for us to reverse ourselves. You’ll just have to wait for them to go back to normal, or…”

“Or…what?”

“Well, this is just a theory, but what if you just corrupted the angelic magic and forced their demonic sides back out?”

“Corrupted, huh..? I like the sound of that.”

†

“I can feel the magic trying to stop me…how. stupidly. annoying.” Lucifer accentuated each word of his complaint with a sharp thrust, face pinched in concentration as sweat beaded at his temple.

He’d be damned if something as trivial as a hexed bracelet from the celestial realm kept him from indulging in you, the one temptation he would never dare ignore.

Your nails dug crescent moons into his shoulders, thighs squeezing at his hips tightly as you moaned and panted beneath him. “Lu-ci-fer! S-slow d-own!”

He growled and sped up in response, snapping his hips into you harshly, “How dare they try to turn me back? I am the Avatar. Of. Pride!” Once again, each word was accentuated with a thrust, making his cock hit deeper and deeper each time.

And he was so fucking proud each time he had you a moaning mess underneath him, crying out his name, begging him not to stop— you made his sin flood his entire body every time.

An electric charge cracked through the air for a brief second before the bangle broke in half, magic forcibly shattering under Lucifer’s sheer prowess.

He grinned sharply, capturing your legs against your chest in a mating press as he went even harder. His wings shedded to black, spanning out proudly behind him as the halo melted down into his horns.

“I’m going to ruin you, do you hear me? You’re not leaving this bed- not tonight, or in the morning, or maybe even until tomorrow afternoon…I’m keeping you until I’ve had my fill.”

†

The sight of Mammon’s blue eyes peering up while his mouth was busy pleasuring you had always been a pretty sight— the shimmering halo was only a little bonus this time.

But you wanted his horns to hold onto. “Just like that, Mams…doing so well, pretty boy.” Your hips rocked over his mouth, grinning down at him with gold flickering in your eyes.

He was all about giving now that the bangle had taken hold, which even before, Mammon always keened when you sat on his face and just used him.

The second born was moaning and whining and whimpering against your skin as his tongue lapped up everything he could, “Mmph- like this? ‘M I doing good, Mc?”

“Y-yeah, baby, fuck— so good…” you carded your fingers through Mammon’s hair, feeling him get more and more excited before you lifted up off his face.

And he was absolutely distraught with the lack of your taste, desperate cry leaving him as he tried to chase after you. “No, no, no! Mc, please, come back— wasn’t done, wanna taste you still, wanna make you feel good, please!”

The laugh you let out made him whine even louder, fingers gripping frantically at your thighs. It was like a switch flipped, magic being overtaken by his greed.

His eyes flickered gold like yours, a whiny growl escaping him. He forced you on your back within a second, mouth working at you even more desperately now as he held you down and took what he wanted— and he wanted to make you cum.

“Jus’ let me, please let me make you cum— you taste so good, Mc, I don’t wanna stop. Want you to scream my name and yank my hair, grip my horns, just give me more- more, more, more!”

†

A small shriek left Levi when you rammed against his prostate, hiccuped cries of your name following. His back arched, wings flaring out behind him, making you hit even deeper spots inside of him.

With his new attitude, he’d been letting everyone else spend time with you and he was finally feeling the built up envy creep along his spine, right beside the spikes of pleasure.

“Aww…look at you. So sweet for me, huh? Why so shy, Levi? Wasn’t this what you meant about strengthening connections?”

Garbled sounds left him, courtesy of your fingers stuffed in his mouth. His eyes rolled back, hands gripping at your hips desperately, though it wasn’t clear if he was pushing you away or pulling you closer.

“How am I gonna know I’m doing good if you don’t tell me, ‘vi? C’mon, sweet thing, tell me. Or do you not want me?”

It was like you asked the unthinkable. A loud whine left him and his tail returned, knocking the halo right off his head before it coiled around your abdomen.

“No! I want you, I want you so badly, please keep fucking me— don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” Diamond shaped scales scattered across his body as the magic wore out.

You cooed, thrusting into him sharply, making his body lurch, “Good boy, Leviathan..”

†

“Fuck!” Satan cries out, fingers digging into his white wings to try and keep them from fluttering. His back arched almost painfully, loudly begging you to keep going.

“Oh, look at you…” the coos that left you made him flush red, giving you a great sense of satisfaction. This was the most he’d been riled up since putting that ridiculous bangle on.

Your thighs were burning at the unforgiving pace you were riding him at, beads of sweat splashing onto his skin, so you decided to change the game a little.

“Come on, Tannie, if you want it, work for it.” You settled your weight on top of him, ceasing your movements as you cockwarmed him instead.

A displeased growl comes from the back of his throat, eyes snapping open with a glowing green. “Mc, move! Please!”

Slowly, the halo above his head began to flicker and dim before it shattered, dissipating in the air. Another growl escaped him as his wings followed suit, tail lashing out like a whip.

“That’s it— c’mon-!” You gasped when he yanked you forwards, chest pressing against his as his tail locked you in place. The only sounds that could leave you now were broken moans as he fucked you almost viciously.

“You know how I feel about you fucking. teasing. me. Feels good doesn’t it? Yeah? Cause I’m not stopping. ‘M not stopping until I physically can’t fuck you anymore— fuck, I needed you.”

†

Unabashed moans echo off the walls of Asmo’s bathroom as the fifth born writhes under your touch. The sound of water sloshing makes his cheeks burn fiery red and the sound of you moaning back at him makes it even worse.

“W-wait! You d-don’t have to— oh!”

“Shh, Azzy…’m just taking care of you. You were so hard and aching…could see it even though you tried to hide under the water.”

The white feathers ruffled with pleasure (slowly shedded away and turning back), hips jerking frantically to chase the pleasure. The bangle’s magic was completely buried under how hot you made him feel and the feeling of you licking along the edges of his leathery wings increased it ten fold.

“Yes, Mc, like that— don’t stop, just like that, just like that!” Amso curled over on you, horns knocking against your shoulder as he cried out even louder.

You fisted his cock harder and swiped your thumb over the tip relentlessly, “Yeah? Made you feel so good, you corrupted yourself, huh? Pretty little Azzy…come on, cum.”

The squeal he let out cracked halfway through, broken cries of your name following like a mantra. His hand encased yours, making sure you didn’t stop jerking him off.

“K-keep going, don’t stop! Wanna cum for you again ‘n again, gotta make up for when I was giving you away to the others, please, please, let me cum again for you!”

†

“H-haaah…ah! M-Mc…what’re you..o-oh..doing?”

“You said it made you happier seeing others get to eat, so…” you hummed, licking your lips before digging your tongue back into the slit of his cock, “I’m just..enjoying my meal…”

Beel had always lost his cool when you went down on him, finding your mouth to be too good at pleasuring him. The growl he let out was something only a demon could make.

The glowing of the bangle did nothing to deter you— in fact, you only laughed and peered up at him with the red sin of gluttony swirling through your irises. With another hum, you enveloped his cock in your mouth and forced your head as far down as you could, swallowing around him.

He tried so hard to not buck into your mouth or grip at your head as the magic worked to keep his ravenous nature at bay, but…that’s just not who he was anymore.

“C’mon, Beelie…want you to cum in my mouth, I wanna taste you..pretty please? Let me have it…”

A low groan fell past his lips, hips finally jerking up and accidentally making you choke. A rushed apology was given as his fingers tangled in your hair and gently guided your head at a faster pace.

The beating of his insectual wings was rapid as he got closer, magic completely dissipating when he let out a sound akin to a small roar, grabbing at his own horns when he came.

Watching you pull away with visibly stuffed cheeks, slowly working on swallowing it all (though drops still ran down your chin) made a sharp pang shoot through him.

“Thank you…you always make me feel so good, Mc…but..now ‘m hungry. Let me return the favor..wanna taste you too.”

†

“A-are you sure…this is o-okay?” Belphie chokes out quietly, hands pressing down on your hips to keep you pinned to the bed with your knees bent to your sides.

Your fingers curl in the sheets, body lurching forward at each thrust, “yeah, ‘s okay— feels good, doesn’t it? You’re doing so good, Bel…”

The clipped whines and gasps that Belphie was making made his cheeks flair with an embarrassed flush; but you were right. It felt so. fucking. good. And he didn’t think he ever wanted to stop.

Through the pleasure, it was easy to ignore the glowing bangle on his wrist and the voice in the back of his head telling him that he should have more reservations- that he shouldn’t be doing this— that voice wasn’t even his. Belphie wanted this, he did!

As your hands stretched back to claw at his lower stomach, you moaned out his name and wiggled your hips, begging him to go faster.

“Please, Bel…know you can go f-faster than this, want you to fuck me— please, please, please! Don’t wan’ you to be an angel, want you to be my demon again-!”

Magic cracked in the air, sending the hair on the back of your neck rising before a familiar tail curled around your stomach and yanked your lower half higher up, forcing your chest further into the mattress.

The attic bed creaked with the force he slammed into you at, whines mixing with growls now; his horns pressed against your skin as he rested his forehead against your back, making it arch even more. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless again? Couldn’t even go a couple days without having me play with you, fuck, you’re such a slut for me.”

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iluvzaddies · 8 months

Note

imma need some tommy shelby w equestrian!reader omg like anything

(i’m a sucker for this man)

admiration

pairing: thomas shelby x equestrian!reader

warnings: none, just tommy fanboying over reader

summary: you are the first woman to ever join and win a horse-racing competition. thomas shelby, who loves horses, deeply admires you and your skills. you meet him in a pub called the garrison and there, you witness his admiration.

“well, i’ll be… win after win. victory after victory. all in different places. proud to say this woman’s a birmingham resident.” arthur shelby said as he held up a newspaper, a cigar in his mouth.

“i’m guessing it’s about that (y/n) (l/n) girl, eh?” polly gray or aunt poll as the shelbys liked to call her, asked as she downed a glass of whiskey. “she’s become quite the hot topic.”

“oh, she’s hot, alright.” john shelby smirked, fiddling with the cigarette in between his two fingers. “still a turn on despite wearing fucking trousers all the damn time.”

“john.” thomas shelby warned, not wanting to hear sexual remarks about you, especially from his own brother.

thomas admired you. how could he not? you were the one who raced his beloved horse, monaghan boy, and brought victory to his name.

he hadn’t gotten the chance to meet you yet. unfortunately. he wondered when you would be done with your little world tour and back in birmingham.

but lo and behold, you stood there at the entrance of the pub, wearing a loose blouse and a pair of trousers as you always do.

“what can i get for you?” grace, the new irish barmaid, noticed your presence and asked.

“you choose. i’m fine with anything.”

“you look worn out.” grace pointed out.

you did look worn out, like you hadn’t had a wink of sleep in ages, but you were beautiful nonetheless. actually, more beautiful than thomas imagined. he stared at you, mouth slightly agape, captivated by the mere sight of you.

“been rough for the past couple of months.” you sighed. “traveling, competing, attending social events. haven’t gotten much sleep.”

“i see.” grace nodded, pouring whiskey into a glass and handing it to you.

thomas couldn’t believe it.

you were here.

in the garrison.

in the flesh.

“well, aren’t you gonna talk to her?” aunt poll raised her brow at thomas, who couldn’t get his eyes off you.

“if you aren’t then i will.” john volunteered.

thomas quickly snapped out of his daze, whipping his head to john. “no.” he pushed his seat back and stood up.

“i never thought i’d see the day tommy boy falls in love.” arthur chuckled.

“i thought he was in love with the new barmaid.” john scoffed, taking a long drag from his cigarette. he was upset that his older brother wouldn’t allow him to talk to you let alone talk about you.

“apparently not.” aunt poll shook her head as thomas eagerly made his way towards you.

“how much for the drink?” you questioned.

“it’s–“ grace was cut off by a deep voice, belonging to the one and only thomas shelby.

“–it’s on the house, ms (l/n).”

“mr shelby.” you shot him a look of surprise. you had forgotten the shelbys practically owned the place.

“leave us be, grace.” he ordered the barmaid and she followed, resuming back to her duties and leaving you two alone.

“here. take a seat.” he pulled out a chair.

you did as told and he pulled out another chair, sitting across from you.

you took a sip out of your glass. “you’ve some fine whiskey, mr shelby.” then looked around the dimly lit pub. “nice looking place as well.”

“please, call me thomas.”

“okay… thomas. call me (y/n) then.” it felt weird to call him by his actual name. you had only just met and he already wanted to be on a first name basis.

“so, what brings you here, (y/n)?”

“felt a little homesick.” you shrugged.

“no, i mean, in the garrison.”

“oh, it’s been a while since i drank. i wanted a drink, so i went to the nearest pub. why?”

“nothing. just curious.”

“is that all you have to say to me, mr sh– thomas?”

“do you enjoy racing horses?”

you hesitated. “the fame can be overwhelming. i love racing horses, it’s my passion, it’s what i do… but i want to be away from people… just for a little while.”

“fame can be overwhelming, yes. i know a thing or two about that feeling. only difference is i’m not famous for being a horse jockey, i’m famous for being a gangster.” he joked. the thomas shelby, the man who always had a straight face, made a joke.

you let out a laugh. a sincere one.

god, your laughter sounded like music to his ears.

“i can’t believe i’m having a decent conversation with one.”

“we gangsters are capable of having decent conversations only with the ones who deserve it.”

you let out another laugh. “goodness. if that’s the case, i’m glad you approve of me.”

“you raced my horse, after all.” he reminded.

“monaghan boy.“ you remembered the beautiful, black horse that you were assigned to race. the horse that led you to fame. “he’s a good boy.”

“aye, that he is.” he agreed.

“you know, thomas, you’re not half-bad.”

he found himself gleaming, enjoying every bit of the conversation, whilst the two shelby siblings and their aunt watched the scene unfold from afar.

you took another sip of the whiskey, humming at the taste, while thomas lit up a cigarette.

then, came silence.

none of you spoke a word, but you enjoyed each other’s company. it was evident in the way you looked at each other. you looked at each other as if you were the only people in the room.

“i’d like to take you somewhere tomorrow.” he suddenly said, breaking the silence.

“oh.” you perked up. “where?”

“the stables. let’s race, you and i. no audience. it’ll be just the two of us.” he proposed.

“is that a date?” when he didn’t deny it, you couldn’t fight off the smile that was making its way to your lips. “you’re rather bold, aren’t you, thomas?”

“what’s your answer?”

“i’ll have to check my schedule first…” you trailed off, but then you decided, why not? it sounded like a good offer. “you know what. fuck it. sure.”

thomas grinned at your rebellious behavior.

“what do you think about two in the afternoon?”

“fine with me.”

uncharacteristically, thomas’ heart fluttered. it had never done that before. it was an odd sensation yet it felt good at the same time.

you informed him your address, so he knew where to pick you up. “need me to write it down or you got it?”

“i got it.” he reassured.

you finished your drink and got up. “it was lovely talking to you. thank you for the drink.” you began walking towards the exit, but before stepping outside, you turned to look at him and uttered. “see you at my doorstep tomorrow, thomas.”

“see you tomorrow, (y/n).”

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x you #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x you #peaky fookin blinders #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you

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zepskies · 8 months

Text

Strong as Blood - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out?

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

AN: This two-part fic can be read as stand-alone, but it’s really a bonus sequel to Break Me Down!

Word Count: 4,500

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Angst, fluff, and a smutty ending.

To find the chronological reading order for the series, check out the series masterlist. ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down

Part 1: “Probably Temporary”

Make no mistake. Ben was still a terrible cook.

He’d sort of gotten the hang of the grill though, even if he technically wasn’t supposed to be smoking meat on the apartment’s second-floor balcony.

You peeked out at your boyfriend through the sliding glass door to make sure he was still doing okay. He caught you though, and shot you a wink.

He was very proud of his grill.

We’re so gonna get in trouble with the homeowner’s association, you thought, but you couldn’t help a smile. You obliged him when he beckoned you over, and you slid the door open.

“Almost done? I think our neighbors are going to complain again,” you said with a laugh. Ben rolled his eyes.

“It’s a bit of smoke, not a fucking forest fire,” he groused. “Let those uppity fucks complain. Bet’cha they won’t have the balls to say shit to my face if I go across the street for a little visit.”

You soothed him with a hand along his shoulder. It also gave you an excuse to check on his progress. You considered this episode to be a success, considering the balcony wasn’t up in flames this time. And the steaks actually looked good. Not brittle pieces of charcoal, but not raw and bleeding either.

“I think those are done,” you advised. Ben followed your gaze and nodded. He used his bare hands to turn the foil-wrapped potatoes, just because he could.

“Why don’t you take ‘em in while I finish up these potatoes,” he said. “How’s the rest coming?”

“Good. I’m about to take the casserole out of the oven,” you said with a nod. Meanwhile, he placed the steaks in a glass dish that been sitting near the open grill. He handed it to you, but you almost dropped the steaks when the hot glass burned your hands.

You hissed in pain, while Ben caught the dish with both hands. His brows furrowed, first in surprise, then in thinly veiled concern when he looked over at you. He reached out for your shoulder.

“Damn,” he said. “Didn’t seem that hot…you okay?”

You looked up from your stinging hands and sighed at him in exasperation, but you couldn’t get that mad at him. He sometimes couldn’t gauge things like this when it came to what he could handle, versus what your normal human body could.

“Yeah. I’ll just break out the aloe. First, let me get some oven mitts,” you replied, but your answering smile retained some good humor. Ben quirked an apologetic smile of his own. He decided to follow you into the kitchen, taking the steaks in himself.

You grabbed your favorite green oven mitts and carefully took out the veggie casserole. It smelled delicious, but Ben still peered at it over your shoulder when you placed it on the counter.

“Don’t you look my casserole sideways,” you quipped. “You need to eat more veggies.”

He leveled you with a dry look. “You saying I’m getting out of shape?”

“God forbid,” you gasped, playfully jabbing at his firm abs with a mitt-covered hand. “I’m just saying, your super metabolism is compensating for a lot of booze and Taco Bell.”

Ben rose a brow at your cheekiness. He drew closer behind you, trapping you against the counter with one hand braced on the edge, and the other sliding up your jean-clad hip.

“You’ve got some nerve. I don’t talk shit about the stash of Twix bars in your nightstand, do I?” he remarked. He nipped at your ear, making you flinch and giggle. His beard was also tickling your neck.

“You’re peeping in my nightstand now? How dare you,” you teased. He snorted in response.

“Please. Your purple vibrator isn’t exactly a fucking mystery to me,” he retorted. You felt his smirk growing against your neck. “Might wanna keep it away from the chocolate though. That could get messy…unless you want it to be.”

Your body shook with the effort of containing your laughter. He was so fucking gross.

“Don’t you need to check on the potatoes?” you asked. “I don’t want to have to pressure wash the balcony again.”

Ben made a sound of agreement, but was sure to swat you on the ass before he went. You jolted, but you just shook your head with a blush and a smile.

It had been over a year since you and Ben had moved in together. Already you’d had your first fight as a true couple, your first Christmas, and so many other challenges, large and small, that had all come to solidify one thing for you.

You were happy. Maybe for the first time in your life.

It just came with some…small caveats, you reflected, as you reached into the fridge to find the jar of aloe vera. Before you slathered some onto your hands, you realized they were no longer red, and they didn’t even sting anymore.

“What the hell?” you muttered. You put back the jar and rested a hand on your hip.

Well, maybe you hadn’t burned yourself as bad as you thought.

With that oddity still in your mind, you pulled on your oven mitts again and took up the casserole with the intention of bringing it to the dining table. Admittedly, you were a bit distracted. You didn’t remember about the raised ledge in the doorway to the dining room until it was too late.

You tripped, and though you managed to make it to the table, you gasped when you broke right through the wood.

The table just seemed to give up when you hit it, cracking in half, and sending you tumbling to the floor with hot casserole heaped on top. You were still stunned when Ben tore back inside. His green eyes were wide, his brows furrowed as he took in the state of you on the floor with the broken table.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, though he bent down to help you up. He checked you for injuries, but both of you found nothing.

“I’m okay,” you said, a bit shakily. “I tripped, that’s all.”

Ben’s brows raised as he looked from you to the shards of the table. He knocked on the wood surface.

“Cheap piece of shit. Where’d you get this thing?” he asked.

You flickered at a smile and admitted, “IKEA.”

Ben shook his head. “We really need to broaden your palate.”

You insisted you were all right. But he insisted, without words, on checking you over again. His hands brushed down your shoulders and arms, your hands and neck.

He held your face in his hands, and he let out a deep sigh. You just smiled up at him, though inside, you were hiding a bit of worry yourself.

That table hadn’t been cheap. It was solid pine wood.

But Ben seemed to believe you. He also seemed a bit exasperated.

“I should just layer you up in goddamn bubble wrap. The way you find ways to break yourself is beyond me,” he muttered. Your lips pursed.

“I resent that—”

“I’m sure you fucking do.”

“Besides,” you said, a smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth. “What a pain in the ass would it be to unwrap me?”

Ben huffed, even as his hands traveled down to wrap around your waist and pull you in close.

“True,” he smirked. “You’re already a pain in the ass as it is.”

You opened your mouth to mount an indignant protest, but he shut you up the only surefire way he knew how. His kiss was swift, deep, and left you humming into his mouth in surprise.

But you soon pulled back, brushing a thumb along his chin. “We’ve got to clean up this mess. And…did you get the potatoes?”

Ben thought for a moment, but then his mouth firmed into a line.

“Shit,” he muttered, and released you to run back to the grill.

That night, you stood barefooted in your nightgown and took a moment alone in the bathroom to breathe. And to think. And to test the strength in your hands, by bending one of Ben’s metal wrenches like it was a useless paper straw.

Okay, now you were panicking a bit.

What the fuck? you thought. You had only ever experienced super strength when you were on V24 (which you had not taken, let alone the permanent stuff).

But…if you thought about it, there had been one other time when you had felt this strong. And it had been when you were in the hospital, almost two years ago, after Vought Tower collapsed. You’d needed a surgery you might not have lived through. It was Ben’s actions that had saved you…after he donated his blood.

Unless he was somehow giving you transfusions without you knowing, there was only one other possibility you could think of for Ben’s DNA to somehow be in your system…

Holy shit, you thought. And you sat down on the closed toilet. Hard. Enough to dislodge a decorative dish that was perched on a shelf behind you. You gasped, but weren’t able to catch it before it hit the ground loudly. You winced and picked it up, even as you heard Ben’s steps approaching the bathroom.

“You okay?” he asked predictably, through the closed door.

“Fine!” you said, your voice too high. You cleared your throat and tried to normalize your voice. “I’m fine, just dropped something.”

“Christ. You going for a record today?” he remarked.

You rolled your eyes.

A few minutes later, you finished in the bathroom and tried to act as normal as possible as you slid into bed next to your boyfriend. He was watching TV, but he glanced over at you. You knew he was silently assessing you, seeing if you were really okay.

You gave him a smile and leaned over for a goodnight kiss. You attempted to be chaste, but he deepened it. He slid an arm around your waist and tilted his head, slipping his tongue between the seam of your lips.

You welcomed him at first…but a tremor of warning flashed in your mind, along with the persistent thought that had followed you from the bathroom.

Should I tell him?

You didn’t know why your inclination was to hold it in. There very well could be something wrong with you. But if your suspicions were true, then you wanted confirmation first.

“What’s the matter?” Ben asked. He’d pulled back, sensing your distraction. You came back to yourself.

“Nothing, just tired,” you said, stroking his chest over his shirt.

Ben looked into your eyes, his face more or less stoic. You saw the way he was trying to get a read on you though, like he didn’t quite believe you. You couldn’t blame him, but you could be very convincing when you needed to be.

He eventually nodded, letting you turn away from him to slip under the covers. Even though you felt the sting of your lie tingling unpleasantly down your spine.

You met Dr. Tonya Baker at her office in the Supe Affairs building. She’d been Vought’s top scientist, up until last year. After Stan Edgar’s death and the company’s collapse, the CIA recruited Dr. Baker.

You didn’t like her. Nor did you trust her, exactly, but she had assisted Dr. Vogelbaum when Becca Butcher came to him with a unique problem. Now, Dr. Baker was the only one left with the knowledge and resources to advise you.

And she was able to confirm your suspicions. She came back with lab results while you sat up on an examining table.

“You’re eleven weeks pregnant,” she informed you.

Even though you’d been somewhat expecting it, suspicion and knowing were very different things. You took in a shaking breath, and through your shock, you were smiling. Happy, and even relieved.

Until Dr. Baker spoke again.

“The super strength is probably temporary. A side effect of the fetus’s genetics. But, it’s also advantageous for you,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “This makes it much more likely that you’ll survive the birth.”

Your breath ceased at that thought, not to mention her clinical delivery.

“Always with that delightful bedside manner, Doctor,” you quipped. All of a sudden, you were feeling lightheaded.

Or maybe you were just freaking the fuck out.��

When you got home that evening after work, Ben watched you.

He knew something was off with you the second you walked through the door, pale and pensive. Still, you flashed him a greeting and a smile that didn’t reach your eyes on your way to the bedroom.

So he followed you. And the fact that you didn’t even notice, even flinched when he dropped a hand on your shoulder, told him that you were more than just distracted. The last straw was when you walked into the dresser while glancing back at him. You hissed and shook out your sandle-clad foot.

Now, you were injury prone at the best of times, but this was a bit much, Ben thought.

“Geez, I didn’t even hear you,” you said, trying at a chuckle. “Normally you thud around in those combat boots like an elephant. We’re lucky no one lives below us—”

“What’s the matter with you?” Ben asked. He was never one to beat around the bush.

Your eyes widened a fraction; unease crept down your spine, but you gave him a quirk of your brow.

“Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me,” he said. His gaze was hunter green, serious, and focused down on you.

“I’m fine, Ben—”

“No,” he snapped. “There’s something off with you.”

You bit your lower lip. It seemed your boyfriend knew you better than you thought. You’d had a plan though. You had wanted to wait until you had a moment to shake off your anxiety and focus on the good when you sat him down this evening.

But you should’ve known better. Ben was remarkably impatient, even when he didn’t know what he was in for.

And he got tired of waiting for your answer.

He changed tactics, reaching for your arms. His grip was firm, but gentle in brushing his thumbs back and forth across your skin. His mouth was in a line, and you caught the concern hiding under his furrowed brows.

“What’s so bad you can’t tell me?” he asked.

You looked up into his eyes. Despite yourself, you had to smile. I’m not playing fair, you realized.

“Okay, come ‘ere,” you said. You took his hand and led him to sit with you on the bed. Pulling his hand between both of yours into your lap, you sighed and thought about how you were going to say this.

After a moment, you got a burst of inspiration. You held up a waiting finger to him and went into the closet to pull out one of your 25-pound hand weights. It might as well have weighed a pound, for how light it felt. You brought it back to the bed, and Ben stared back at you quizzically.

“So…I didn’t get that table from IKEA,” you confessed. “It was solid wood, and I really did break straight through it.”

He rose a brow. “All right…”

You then showed him your newfound strength, by breaking the hand weight in half with your bare hands. His eyes widened, making you giggle a bit. You deposited both metal heads into his hands. He considered them, then you. His brows were knitting together even tighter.

“What the hell—”

“Remember when you donated blood for me, when I was laid up in the hospital a couple years ago?” you asked. “I got your super strength for a day or two afterwards.”

Ben nodded. You had been a bit more than laid up, but semantics, he guessed. He was getting more confused by the moment.

“Well this time, I’m told it’s also temporary…for the next seven months or so,” you said with a playful smile.

Ben considered your words. He turned them back and forth in his head…

Finally, his gaze flicked from yours to the broken weights in his hands. And he tossed them to the floor with a heavy thud on the hard wood.

You giggled in earnest when he reached for your face with both hands. His eyes searched yours for any hint of a joke, his jaw tight and working.

“Are you fucking with me right now?” he asked. His voice was a hint unsteady. You smiled bright and covered his hands with your own as the beginnings of tears stung in your eyes.

“Not this time,” you said. “Ben, I’m pregnant.”

It took him a moment to register your words. You saw the moment it all finally set in, with new realization etching into his features.

Never once had you seen this man tear up. He turned his face away, but you still caught the edges of his emotion.

You reached for his bearded cheek, turning him back to you. His eyes were red and starting to shine, even though he was fighting it. A muscle in his jaw clenched, and then eased.

After a beat, his hands moved down from your face to brush down your arms, down your sides and around your frame. He pulled you into his lap, for which you went willingly into his arms. And your tears fell in earnest when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You knew what this meant to him, but you still couldn’t help but prod at him.

“Are you happy?” you teased, rubbing his back. Ben huffed and brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes.

“What do you think?” he countered.

Your hand moved down to slip under his shirt, gliding over the taut muscles in his back as they responded to your touch. You met him with a small smirk.

“Show me,” you challenged.

His lips quirked; that was all the encouragement he needed. Ben’s hands moved to tangle in your hair and squeeze the curve of your waist, bringing you flush against him when he kissed you. You inhaled deeply. Your nails dragged up his back, applying some pressure that made his shoulders twitch.

You didn’t know what your newfound strength felt like to him, but for Ben, you felt solid in a way you hadn’t before. He could let go of some of his self-control and knead your hips with a force beyond bruising.

He could veer away from your lips and raze down your neck, and give your shoulder a love bite that would’ve drawn blood. Now it didn’t even break your skin. It did, however, earn him a pleased gasp.

Maybe he’d just have to keep knocking you up, he thought. So you’d always be this strong.

You started rucking up his shirt first, and had to push him back to even get it off him. After that, all bets were off.

It was a mad scramble to shed each other’s clothes, with Ben not being able to get away with his usual manhandling. Your smile grew, as you now had the strength to literally push back and make him work a bit harder for it.

He smirked up at you when you managed to take him by surprise and push him back onto the bed. You’d successfully bared him for your gaze, but you still had your bra and panties on as you climbed over him and straddled his lap.

Ben held himself up with a hand on the bed as the other slid around your waist and hooked you in. You took his face in your hands and gave him the full force of your passion.

Your lips claimed his in a devouring kiss, teeth clicking and tongues dueling for dominance. And you ground down your clothed core against his rising length, earning his groan of appreciation into your mouth.

With a flick of his wrist, your bra strap snapped off in the back. You huffed, knowing he’d probably broken the clasp.

Ah well, I’m about to need new ones soon enough.

The thought made you smile against his lips. You let him pull the bra down your arms and wherever he decided to fling it off to. You thought he might start traveling down between your breasts, as was a favorite path of his to map out.

But then, in one smooth motion Ben had you flipped over onto your back. He grinned at your yelp of surprise, but he didn’t give you a chance to recover. He latched onto your neck again, this time on the other side as he scraped his beard and teeth across your skin.

Meanwhile, you moaned encouragements in his ear while his heavy hand squeezed one of your breasts, rolled a thumb over a pert nipple.

You trailed your hands down his chest, soothing over golden tan skin and freckles and sculpted muscle until you reached his hard length. You earned a straining grunt from your man as you teased the sensitive flesh, a thumb circling over its weeping head.

Ben grabbed your wrist and gave you a warning look. “Can’t let me fucking concentrate, huh?”

You just grinned and took his hand instead. You dragged it down your body until you guided his fingers into your underwear, between your wet folds.

“Ben, I need you,” you said. But your need was already in your eyes. Your skin was on fire wherever he touched, and deep inside, where you burned for him most.

Ben felt it in your iron grip on his hand, now almost as strong as his own. Your legs curled up his thighs to wrap around his hips, teasing him with the soft promise between your inner thighs. So how could he do anything else but give you what you wanted?

He teased between your folds with his fingers first. Gathering some of your wetness, he circled over your clit firmly. You whimpered as your back arched in response.

“Gonna sing for me, baby doll?” he teased. Your breathing became more labored as his fingers continued to play with you, but you managed to offer a small smirk.

“You gonna make me?” you asked. “Think you need to bring out the big guns for that one.”

Ben chuckled. As usual, you were being a little shit.

So he brought you to the edge of your release, just with his fingers. You were starting to squeeze them tight with your inner walls, your moans getting more urgent. But he withdrew his digits at the last moment, leaving you panting and confused.

“What…”

He smirked down at you and wrapped his slick fingers around his cock, stroking himself a few times. You watched him with expectant, hungry eyes.

“You want the big guns, I’ll fucking give ‘em to you,” he said. It made you huff, but you had to smile as he returned to you. He hooked his fingers on the hem of your panties and slowly, torturous, he pulled them down your legs.

Those same hands then traveled back up, gliding across your skin with purpose. Your breath shallowed in anticipation.

He eventually gripped your hips, pushing your thighs up a bit farther, and you lined his cock to your entrance. Your heels dug into his ass and added a bit of force when he pushed inside you. And your moans tangled together along with your bodies.

You fairly pulsed inside, and he felt it in your inner walls wrapped so fucking tight around him. His forehead briefly fell to your shoulder. Even though you were panting for breath, you still soothed him, carding your fingers through his hair.

Normally he’d be going off at a relentless clip by now. But Ben started slow, rolling his hips back and forth into yours at a steady rhythm that managed to take your breath away and make your toes curl.

His name fell from your lips, reverent and pleased. You felt every part of him as he plunged inside you, and it was incredibly fucking hot.

He took a moment to meet your eyes. He gave you a grin that softened the hard edges that so often lined his face in times like this. And you realized then what was happening.

Ben didn’t do slow. Not for long anyway. But it seemed like he’d taken your challenge to heart. In fact, you had a feeling he was showing you what he couldn’t quite put into words.

When he reached a hand to part your folds and circle two insistent finger pads around your clit, you couldn’t help but grip his arms tight enough to bruise him. Your mouth opened on a keening moan.

Combined with his deep strokes starting to brush all the right spots inside you, it had you squeezing on him from the inside as you came hard, and made it known in his ear.

“Fuck—” Ben’s brows furrowed as your release finally triggered his own. And his voice joined yours, muffling in the pillow under your head. You shuddered as he spilled deep inside you.

Your arms came around his back and held him to you for a moment afterwards, just stroking his back, his shoulders, his neck, whatever you could reach while you both caught your breath.

Eventually, Ben’s lips found your neck. You felt the shape of his smile grow there.

“Too bad you’re already knocked up, or that could’ve been a great way to bring in our second kid,” he remarked.

This time, it took a second for his words to click together in your mind. As soon as they did, you uttered a laugh that shook both of your frames. You swatted his ass in reproach. He smirked down at you.

“I can't with you,” you said. Though you were still giggling. “You’re just gonna have to wait for the first one to come out of the oven.”

Ben’s smirk evened out into a grin, his face almost boyish in his glee.

“Well, what can I say, baby? You’re a damn good cook.”

AN: 😂 Well then. What did you think of how she broke the news? And Ben's reaction to finding out he's finally going to be a dad? 🥹

But of course, it's not going to be all sunshine and roses in Part 2. The reader and Ben reveal the good news to her family, and as we all know, he's hoping for a son...

Next Time:

“Hey,” she said. “You know how much I care about you, right?”

“And where’s this going?” you quipped. But you turned around and gave your little sister a half-smile. You knew what she was about to say.

“So what are you going to do about that?” she asked, gesturing to your man in the kitchen. “Mr. Macho wants his prized stud. What happens if he doesn’t get him?”

You sighed. “Ben’s wanted this for a long time. He’s got an idea in his head of what it’s going to be like, and…we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Keep reading: PART 2

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doctorbitchcrxft · 25 days

Text

Phantom Traveler | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, namecalling, typical Dean and reader

Word Count: 8289

A/N: Hi guys. I've been overwhelmed with love these past few weeks. Just wanted to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading. You guys are fucking awesome; I'm so grateful. I hope y'all enjoy this week's episode! Asks/requests/taglists are open!!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You were sound asleep, curled up into yourself when a knock on the door brought you out of your slumber.

“(Y/N)?”

‘Sam.’

“I got coffee, thought you could use some,” he called through the door.

You pushed yourself up out of the bed as you yawned, and walked over to the door of your motel room to open it for Sam.

“Dude, you realize it’s six in the morning, right?” You scratched your head as you let Sam into the room.

“You sound like my brother.”

You playfully glared at him. “Don’t compare me to him.”

“Here.” He handed you a coffee and a bag of what you assumed was a pastry.

“Thanks,” you replied, sitting on your bed with your stuff in hand.

Sam sat on the chair across from you. “Still haven’t warmed up to Dean, huh?”

“Well, he hasn’t exactly warmed up to me,” you reminded him, thinking of the fight you got into yesterday over his reckless driving.

“Guess that’s true,” he conceded. “It’s weird, though, you guys are so much more alike than you let on.”

“Tell that to him. He started it.” You took a big bite of your pastry.

“Seriously?” Sam laughed, “ ‘He started it’?”

You shrugged, smirking.

He seemed to remember his original intention behind disturbing your slumber. “Hey, he found a case, though.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s up?” You licked the pastry cream off your thumb.

“We don’t know. The guy on the phone didn’t say.” Sam raised his coffee cup to his lips.

“Guy on the phone?” You took a sip of your coffee as you let Sam answer.

“Yeah. Some guy my dad and Dean worked a case for a while back’s got another one for us. He called Dean.”

“Ah—” you nodded, “—gotcha. So, where’s he live?”

“Pennsylvania,” Sam responded.

“Okay, not too far,” you noted. “I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

***

“Thanks for making the trip so quick,” a short older man named Jerry told you and the boys. “I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean and your dad really helped me out.”

You were walking beside Sam as you followed behind the man who was having you do this job. You were being led through a warehouse past planes as well as their parts and people hard at work.

“Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?” Sam asked the older man.

Someone walking in front of your group was eavesdropping on you. “Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie.”

“Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking,” Jerry stated authoritatively to the man. He turned his attention back to the conversation. “Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart.” He addressed Dean. “Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?” He’d turned to Sam.

“Yeah, I was. I'm— taking some time off,” Sam explained.

“Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.”

“He did?” Knowing what you knew about Sam’s relationship with his dad, you found this surprising, too.

“Yeah, you bet he did,” Jerry nodded. “Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?”

“He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now,” Dean lied.

“Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam and— what’s your name again?” he asked you.

“(Y/N).”

“(Y/N). Even trade, huh?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that,” you laughed.

“Say, (Y/N), how’d you get wrapped up with these two?” Jerry asked.

“Oh, uh—” you began, searching for an abridged version of the truth, “—I met them on a hunt in California. They decided to drag me along with them.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. The guys are gonna need backup with this one,” Jerry said.

“Why?”

He did not give a direct answer to your question. “I got something I want you guys to hear.”

He led you to his office where you and Sam took the two chairs and Dean stood behind his brother.

”I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley,” Jerry stated, putting a CD into a drive. “Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.”

A frantic voice immediately rang out from the speaker as soon as the recording started. “Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485—” the recording cut out with a static sound, “—immediate instruction help! United Britannia 2485, I copy your message—” and cut out again, “—May be experiencing some mechanical failure—” and then cut out one last time. The man’s voice was completely drowned out by static, whooshing, and growling sounds.

“Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south,” Jerry continued. “Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh… well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.”

“You don't think it was?” Sam questioned him.

“No, I don't.”

“Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors,” Sam listed.

“Alright,” the man replied.

“And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?” Dean inquired.

“The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage… guys— and gal— the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance.” Jerry shook his head.

You frowned.

“No problem,” Dean declared.

You gave him a questioning look to which he shrugged off.

***

“How fucking long does it take to make a fake ID?” you groaned, falling back across the backseat of the Impala. You and Sam had found a way to isolate the EVP on Sam’s computer, having gotten a copy of the tape from Jerry.

“I don’t know,” Sam responded. “But I’m gonna lose it if it’s much longer.”

“Same here.” At that moment, Dean walked out of the Copy Jack the Impala was sitting in front of as a pretty woman walked into the store. They greeted each other before Dean walked over to you and his brother.

“Dude,” you started, “You’ve been in there forever.”

“Wah-wah,” he whined, mocking you. “You can’t rush perfection.” He held up three IDs.

“Homeland Security?” Sam questioned as he took one of the IDs. “That's pretty illegal, even for us.”

“Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times,” Dean pointed out as he got into the car.

“Alright, so, what do you got?” Dean asked his brother as he flicked your ID back at you. It hit you square in the side of the head.

“Dude, really?” you hissed, aggravation clear in your tone.

“Shh,” the older Winchester hushed you as he waited for Sam to answer.

“Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder,” Sam explained.

“Yeah?”

“Listen.”

The isolated voice of what you were dealing with came through the recording scratchy and backed by demonic growling sounds. “No survivors!”

“ ’No survivors’?” Dean asked. “What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.”

You shrugged.

Dean let out a sigh. “So, what are we thinking? A haunted flight?”

“There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers,” Sam began.

Dean hummed in affirmation. “Or remember flight 401?”

“Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights.”

“I don’t know, guys,” you stated skeptically. “Ghost just doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, thanks for your optimism, sunshine,” Dean quipped.

“It’s not about optimism, you asshole, it’s about being right and dealing with whatever we’re up against properly,” you pushed back.

“Know-it-all,” the older Winchester replied.

“Fuck off, Winchester.”

He let out a breath and turned his attention back to the case.“Alright, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?”

"Third on the list: Max Jaffey,” you said.

“I wasn’t talking to you, but why him?”

You glared at Dean. “Because if anybody saw something weird, he did. I talked to his mom while you were spending forever in the store. She said some pretty weird shit and told me where to find him. He was so screwed up, he checked himself into the hospital.”

***

You and the Winchesters walked beside Max Jaffey, who hobbled on a cane, through the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital’s garden.

“I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security,” Max told your trio.

“Right. Some new information has come up,” Dean lied. “So if you could just answer a couple questions...”

“Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything… unusual?” Sam questioned.

Max looked confused. “Like what?”

“Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices,” Dean offered.

“No, nothing.”

Seeing as no one was getting anywhere with this investigation, you tried your hand at it. “Mr. Jaffey, you checked yourself in here, right?”

He nodded at you.

“Why?”

“Uh, I was a little stressed,” he said sarcastically. “I survived a plane crash.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded. “And that’s what scared you? That’s what screwed you up so badly?”

You could tell you were close to the answers you were after as he swallowed uncomfortably. “I— I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

“I know, but I also know you saw something up there,” you continued. “We need to know what.”

“No.” Max shook his head. “No, I was… delusional. Seeing things.”

“He was seeing things,” Dean half-mocked him.

You shot a warning glance at Dean, hoping to get him to shut up.

“It's okay,” you coaxed. “Just tell us what you thought you saw, please.”

“There was… this—man. And, uh, he had these… eyes—these, uh, black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him...” he trailed off, stopping as he recounted the events.

“What?” Dean asked.

“He opened the emergency exit,” Max explained. “But that's— that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door.”

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, clearly confused.

“This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?” Sam asked.

Max quirked his head at the younger Winchester. “What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me.”

***

“I think we can rule out phantom traveler,” you noted as you got out of the car in front of the Phelps’s house. You were going to visit the wife of George Phelps, the man who opened the emergency exit.

“Why?” Dean asked.

“You heard Jaffey. He said the dude had black eyes. Opened a fucking emergency exit on his own. ‘Black eyes’ points me to demon.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Demons?”

“I mean, it makes sense,” Sam shrugged. “He could be a demon. He might be some kind of a creature, too, in human form.”

“Does that look like a creature's lair to you?” Dean questioned as he gestured toward the house that was representative of the essence of suburban houses. From its beautiful garden to the cobblestone steps to the beige paint coating the outside of the two-story building.

Sam shrugged and began leading your trio up the steps of the house.

Once inside, you three sat across from Mrs. Phelps on the couch while she sat in an armchair.

Sam picked a picture of Mrs. Phelps and an older man up off of the side table. “This is your late husband?” he asked.

“Yes, that was my George.”

“And you said he was a dentist?” Dean questioned.

She hummed in affirmation. “He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that...”

Sam asked another question. “How long were you married?”

“Thirteen years.”

You could tell Sam was contemplating how to ask his next question. “In all that time, did you ever notice anything… strange about him; anything out of the ordinary?”

She paused for a moment. “Well, uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean.”

You nodded, clicking your tongue. “I think that’s all we have for you, Mrs. Phelps. Thank you for your time.”

She showed all of you out, and you piped up as you walked down the stairs outside of the house.

“Demon’s sounding more and more correct all the time,” you smiled, trying to joke around.

“Jesus, you’re annoying,” Dean groaned.

“And you’re a misogynistic dick that can’t handle women with brains,” you responded.

“What, are we gonna duke this out now?” Dean stopped by the door of the car, facing you.

You stood by the backseat’s door. “You started it,” you taunted childishly, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared back at him.

“Really?” he leered. “You’re gonna pull that card? Mature.”

“You act like you’re any better.”

“Guys—” Sam tried to cut in, but Dean continued to fight with you.

“You’re such a bitch.”

“Wow, haven’t heard that one before,” you drawled.

“Guys! You can fight later. Wrong place, wrong time to sort this out,” Sam chastised you and Dean like you were children.

You got in the car and slammed the door behind you.

“Don’t hurt my baby ‘cause you’re pissed,” Dean scolded you as he started to pull the car away.

“Just drive, asshole,” you grumbled in frustration as you slumped down in your seat. The rest of the car ride to the local outlet mall was silent.

***

You had never felt more confident. Despite the fact that you could have worn the one dress you already had to pose as homeland security, you decided to treat yourself to a new outfit to distract from your aggravation with Dean.

The boys had gone to a suit shop called “Mort’s for Style,” and you went into a dress shop called “Betsy’s.” It was a cute little shop with a lot of great dress and pantsuit options.

You had picked out a navy blue pantsuit. You wore a white button-up underneath the blazer with the top two buttons undone to accentuate your breasts. The blazer was unbuttoned, and the high-waisted, straight-legged pants you wore matched the black color of your blazer. With the white button-up tucked into your pants and the small amount of makeup you threw on to draw attention to your eyes and lips, you felt good.

Once you had paid for your clothing, you walked out of the shop and back to the Impala. Surprisingly, the boys were not there waiting for you.

You leaned your back against the car, picking out the grit from under your nails.

You looked up when you heard Dean’s voice. “Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers.”

Both of the boys were dressed in sharp, black suits. You almost lost your breath at the sight of Dean, but fought yourself to keep your composure. You would not give him the satisfaction of knowing you found him attractive.

“No, you don't,” Sam told him. “You look more like a seventh-grader at his first dance.”

You laughed at the younger brother’s jeer. “What took you girls so long?” you asked once you got in the Impala. “I thought you two would’ve beat me out the store by a long shot.”

“Dean wouldn’t leave the dressing room,” Sam said dryly.

“Seriously?” you droned.

You and Sam both looked to Dean, who did not answer immediately. When he finally spoke, he complained, “I hate this thing.”

“Hey,” Sam stared. “You want into that warehouse or not?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he continued to drive along.

You steeled your nerves as your black, pointed-toe pumps clicked across the warehouse floor. Your trio was headed to the security guard that would allow you in to see the wreckage.

You held the clipboard you had stowed in your bag close to your chest, acting as some sort of a recorder for the boys. The three of you flashed your badges at the security guard, who nodded and allowed you into the hangar where the wreckage was being kept.

There was a large map of what the plane should look like painted onto the floor, and the parts that corresponded to the different portions of the map were laid in their proper spots. There were wires hung on fences and broken interior parts of the plane laid on tables. The most heartbreaking things for you to look at were the torn passengers’ seats because most of the people who had been in them were now dead.

You looked over at Dean, who had earbuds in and was moving a small box over the tops of the wreckage.

“What’s that?” you asked him.

“It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies.”

You got closer to him, noticing what the object appeared to be. “I know what an EMF meter is; I’m not stupid. But why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?”

“ 'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade,” he grinned.

“Yeah, I can see that,” you quipped.

His grin disappeared. “Bitch.”

“Dick.”

You once again fought the pain in your chest when he called you a bitch. In all honesty, you thought his homemade EMF meter was cute. However, you were too far gone in your war with him to surrender now.

Dean ran the Walkman over a piece of the wreckage with black spores and yellow dust on it. You could hear the faint sound of a spike on the meter through Dean’s headphones.

“Check out the emergency door handle,” Dean called to Sam.

Sam came over to where you and Dean stood as the older brother scratched at the dust to get some on his hand.

“What is this stuff?” Dean asked.

One way to find out.” You saw the younger of the two brothers start scraping some of the dust into a small bag.

“We need to go,” you told the boys. You weren’t sure what told you that, but you just suddenly felt unsettled. The hairs on the back of your neck stood at attention, and every muscle in your body tensed. You started off toward the exit in the back of the warehouse.

“Wait, (Y/N), what if we’re missin’ something?” Dean questioned, clearly aggravated you were ready to ditch already.

“Too bad, we gotta go.” You kept walking toward the exit, making it out of the door and around the backside of the building.

At that moment, an alarm started blaring through the area surrounding the warehouse.

You turned around to look at the boys as you gloated, “I’m not gonna say, ‘I told you so’!“ Not bothering to rip your shoes off of your feet, you took off running to the gated exit.

Sam and Dean were quick to follow you and soon passed you up. The older brother took off his suit jacket and threw it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence. You did the same with your blazer. After quickly taking off your pumps to avoid hurting yourself when you jumped from the top of the gate, you threw yourself over the fence. The other two did the same.

Sam grabbed your blazer that you were too small to reach from the top of the fence as Dean found it within himself to remark, “Well, these monkey suits do come in handy.”

You ran after the two boys, heels and blazer in hand as the jagged rocks in the cement cut into your feet. As soon as you shut the door to the car, Dean slammed on the gas pedal.

He tore out of the warehouse’s parking lot, speeding down the road to head toward Jerry’s workplace.

"(Y/N),” Sam started, turning in his seat to face you with a curious expression on his face, “how did you know that?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. My intuition’s just always been pretty sharp.” You were being honest; there had been a few times on hunts previously when you’d known it was time to get the hell out of dodge.

“Hm.” You could tell Dean still didn’t trust you.

“Dude, I don’t know what else to tell you. That’s the truth,” you countered. “I’ve been helping you guys with your dad for almost two months now, and you still don’t trust me. I don’t know what more to do for you.”

“Maybe because I don’t know you,” he responded, never taking his eyes off the road.

“Maybe if you tried to know me, you’d find it a little easier to trust me,” you answered.

“Not interested,” came Dean’s grumbled response.

You tried your best to ignore the pang that went through your chest once more. “Of course not.”

***

You refused to speak to or even look at Dean; your frustration with the fact that he had no desire to know you and his general existence boiling to the surface. You could feel his stare burning into the side of your head as you focused on Jerry, who sat in front of you. He was looking through a microscope on his desk at the yellow dust Sam had collected.

“Huh,” Jerry remarked. “This stuff is covered in sulfur.”

“You're sure?” Sam asked.

“Take a look for yourself,” Jerry offered, getting up from behind the desk so Sam could take his place.

Banging sounds along with a string of curse words caught your ear as Jerry sighed.

“If you guys will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire,” he dryly stated, walking out of the office.

You got up from the chair you were sitting in next to Dean. “See?” you started excitedly, gesturing toward the sulfur, “Demons.”

“That would explain how one guy had the strength to open up the emergency exit,” Sam added.

“This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?” Dean put his hands on his hips as he stood. “You ever heard of something like this before?”

Sam looked over at his brother, who responded, “Never.”

“Well, I have,” you said simply.

They both looked to you to continue.

“In NYC a couple years back. Some cabbies had gotten possessed and were takin’ girls left and right.”

“Those were demons?” Sam asked, standing up from behind Jerry’s desk. “That was a huge deal on the news while I was at Stanford. Police thought it was a serial killer. You took ‘em on all by yourself?”

“I’m a big girl, Sam,” you chuckled. “I can handle a few demons. But, yeah, that was me. That was probably the toughest case I’ve ever been on. Finding where those demons had taken those girls after they drugged them in the cabs... where they were raped and murdered...” You shook your head, your cheery expression gone.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Sam told you gently.

Your eyes were glued to the floor, hands on your hips with not a bit of life in your voice as you muttered, “All in a day’s work.”

Sam had asked you to tell him and Dean everything you knew about demons once you got back to the Winchesters’ motel room. Sam sat at the table close to the window while Dean sat on the bed closest to his brother. You stood in front of the two as you spoke.

“Demons exist in every religion in every world culture. With the ones that I was dealing with up in New York, they were most similar to Incubi from early Christian religion. Incubi raped sleeping girls. These demons drugged the girls to put them to sleep, then they raped them, and then they murdered them. What I’m thinking for these demons is that they’re most similar to certain Japanese demons. I had to look into these when I was trying to figure out how to kill the NYC demons. The Japanese believe demons cause certain disasters, whether it be natural or man-made. Some cause earthquakes, others cause disease—”

“And this one causes plane crashes?” Dean deadpanned, cutting you off.

You ignored him. “Demons are having to find new ways to ratchet up the body count. Like with me in New York, Incubi can’t go about their old methods anymore. This demon probably evolved with the times like the Incubi did, and so it figured plane crashes were the best way to get its job done.”

Dean snorted, getting up from. the bed and turning away from you and his brother.

“What?” Sam asked.

He turned around, scratching the back of his neck. “I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death, and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here.”

“Yeah. Me too,” the younger Winchester admitted.

Dean’s phone rang, and he answered it. “Hello?... Oh, hey, Jerry… Wha— Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?... Where'd this happen?... I'll try to ignore the irony in that… Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon.”

He hung up the phone.

“Another crash?” Sam questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah. Let's go.”

“Where?”

“Nazareth.”

‘Ah, there’s the irony.’

***

After leaving the horrendous scene of Chuck’s plane crash, you and the boys went back to Jerry’s office. Once again, Jerry confirmed that the dust you had taken from the steering wheel of Chuck’s plane was, in fact, sulfur.

“Well, that's great,” Dean sassed. “Alright, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.”

“If that's the case, that would be the good news,” you chimed in. You looked up to the sky, addressing the pilot. “No offense, Chuck.”

“What's the bad news?” Jerry asked you.

“Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into the flight, just like 2485,” you informed the older man.

“Forty minutes?” Chuck inquired. “What does that mean?”

“It's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death,” Dean said.

“I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in,” Sam explained.

"Any survivors?” the older Winchester questioned his brother.

“No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason.” Sam turned to you after thinking for a moment. “On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?”

“ ‘No survivors,’ “ you realized. “It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job.”

Dean drove the Impala down an empty highway.

Sam was on the phone with one of the survivors from the plane crash, the conversation almost over. “Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks.” He hung up the phone. “All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon.”

“That leaves the flight attendant, Amanda Walker,” you commented.

“Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight P.M. It's her first night back on the job,” Sam told you and his brother.

“That sounds like just our luck,” Dean grumbled.

“Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel,” Sam said worriedly.

“Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass,” Dean tried.

“I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off.”

“God, we're never gonna make it,” you shook your head, leaning back in the seat as you scrubbed a hand through your hair.

“We'll make it,” the older brother countered, slamming his foot on the gas.

Somehow, someway, Dean had managed to get to the airport at ten minutes to seven.

You jumped up out of the car, taking your gun out of your pants and stashing it under the backseat.

“What are you doing?”

You still did not feel like talking to Dean but answered him shortly nonetheless. “We’re going into an airport.”

Dean finally caught onto what you meant and took all of his weapons off of him, too. “I feel naked.”

You fought the smile threatening to creep up your face.

You rushed into the airport just behind the boys, squeezing your way through the crowd of people to get to the departure board.

“Right there,” Sam pointed out. “They're boarding in thirty minutes.”

“Okay. We still have some cards to play,” Dean paused, thinking for a moment. “We need to find a phone.”

He found a courtesy phonw on the wall, picking it up. “Hi. Gate thirteen… I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um… flight 4-2-4.”

He waited impatiently for Amanda to pick up the phone. When she finally did, he began speaking again.

“Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here… Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so—” His face fell, his eyes widening a touch. “You what?... Uh, well… there must be some mistake—”

Sam went around his brother to try to get a closer listen.

After a longer pause, Dean let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “...Guilty as charged… He's really sorry… Yeah, but… he really needs to see you tonight, so—... Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic… Oh, yeah… No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda!” Dean slammed the phone back onto the receiver. “Damn it! So close.”

"Alright, time for plan B. We're getting on that plane,” you stated firmly.

“Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second.” For the first time since you met him, Dean looked scared.

“Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash,” Sam argued.

“I know.” He looked conflicted.

“Okay. So we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You and (Y/N) get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes.”

Dean looked at Sam blankly, evidently a little anxious.

“Are you okay?” the younger Winchester asked.

Dean hesitated. “No, not really.”

“What? What's wrong?”

“Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh...”

“Flying?” you cut in.

“It's never really been an issue until now,” he told you.

“You're joking, right?” Sam huffed.

“Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?” he spat.

For the first time since you met him, you didn’t feel like mocking him about his fear of planes.

“Okay, then (Y/N) and I’ll go,” Sam proposed.

Dean shook his head. “What?”

“We’ll handle this one.”

“What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash.”

“Dean, we can do it together, or I can do this one with (Y/N). I'm not seeing a third option, here.”

Dean scratched his head. “Come on! Really? Man...”

Dean walked much faster than you did toward the car to get supplies, clearly trying to leave you in his dust.

“Would you slow down a bit, please?” you asked.

“Why should I?”

“Because even if you get to the car before me, you’re not gonna have a fucking clue what to use to deal with a demon,” you reminded him, your words a bit more venomous than need-be.

He stopped, turning to face you. “Are you calling me stupid?”

“No,” you told him. You truly weren’t.

“Definitely sounds like you are.”

You walked past him to the trunk of the Impala. “I wasn’t, I’m simply pointing out the fact that I’m the one who knows how to deal with demons, and you don’t.”

“There you go again. Acting like you know so much better than I do.” His attitude was truly exhausting.

Your voice rose as you defended yourself. “Because I do! In this case, at least!”

“But it’s not just this one time that you acted like you’re better than me,” he argued. “Do you realize how frustrating it is to deal with your smart ass?”

“Do you realize how frustrating it is to deal with yours?” you threw back. You sighed, putting aside your anger for now. “Look, we don’t have time to talk about this.” You shoved holy water, a rosary, and the EMF Walkman into Dean’s hands. “Now, let’s go.”

You shoved past Dean and headed back to the airport.

***

You sat between Sam and Dean, completely at ease. Dean, however, was losing his mind.

"Just try to relax,” Sam whispered from the window seat

Dean’s voice came back harder and slightly louder. “Just try to shut up.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” you scolded playfully.

“Don’t be a bitch,” Dean clapped back using the same tone with you that he had with Sam. He took in a sharp breath when the plane began moving a second later.

You gathered your courage and grabbed his hand. He jerked away from you and looked at you in surprise. When the plane took off, though, his hand rejoined yours, squeezing tightly. You giggled to yourself.

“I’m so glad this is funny to you,” Dean hissed.

“It’s not,” you answered simply.

“Then why are you laughing?” His grip tightened once again.

“It’s just,” you considered your next words carefully. “It’s kind of cute, that’s all.”

Dean was caught off-guard by your response. He eyed you quizzically, unsure of what to say. You just shrugged, settling the back of your head against your seat with your hand still in Dean’s. It was much larger than yours, and you fought the urge to run your fingers along the calloused ridges.

Moments passed in a bit of an uncomfortable silence before Dean spoke again, not a trace of bite in his tone. “Why are you doing this?”

You rolled your head toward him. “Everybody’s scared of something,” you quietly replied. “It helps me to know I’m helping you. Even if you do hate my guts.”

“I don’t hate your guts.” He spoke so softly you almost couldn’t hear him.

“Pfft, could’ve fooled me,” you answered.

“You just…” he started, “...get on my nerves. ‘S all.”

You giggled.

A few minutes later when the plane had fully gotten up in the air, you heard the familiar sound of a song you had heard many times before in the Impala coming from the man next to you.

“You're humming Metallica?” Sam asked Dean monotonously.

“Calms me down,” the older brother replied.

“ ‘Some Kind of Monster’? Really?“ You raised a brow at him.

Dean did not respond to you.

“Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused,” the younger Winchester reminded his brother.

“Yup,” you chimed in. “We only have thirty-two minutes to track the bitch down and full-on exorcise it.”

“Yeah, on a crowded plane,” Dean commented. “That's gonna be easy.”

“Just take it one step at a time, alright?” Sam said calmly. “Now, who is it possessing?”

“It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress,” Dean stated.

“Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up,” Sam told Dean, who hummed in response.

Dean sat up stiffly, his body still tense as he turned to the blonde flight attendant walking past.

“Excuse me. Are you Amanda?” he asked her.

“No, I'm not,” she answered with a smile.

"Oh, my mistake.”

The flight attendant hummed in agreement.

He peered into the back of the plane, finding the other blonde flight attendant. “All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state.”

“What if she's already possessed, genius?” Sam asked.

“There's ways to test that,” Dean responded, pulling the holy water out of his jacket. “I brought holy water.”

“Correction, I brought holy water—” you leaned forward, gently taking the bottle, “—And that’s for when we try to exorcise the demon. She’ll flinch at the name of god if she’s possessed.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Dean replied, getting up from his chair. You could tell he had not. You already missed the feeling of his hand in yours.

He turned to go, but you stopped him.

“Dean!” you whispered.

“What?” The annoyance in Dean’s voice was back.

“Say it in Latin.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then what is it?” you smirked, quirking a brow.

“ ‘Christo!’ I’m not an idiot!” he hissed back. Dean turned away from you and headed to the back of the plane.

You slumped down in your seat, closing your eyes as the copilot began speaking. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your first officer speaking...” you tuned out the rest of his message.

A few minutes went by before the older brother returned.

“Alright, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet,” he sighed as he flopped back into his seat.

“You said ‘Christo’?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her.”

“So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere,” Sam explained.

The plane shook, causing Dean to tense up. He grabbed your hand once more. “Come on!” he whined. “That can't be normal!”

“Hey, hey, it's just turbulence,” you coaxed.

“Sweetheart, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm fucking four.” He went to drop your hand, but you tightened your grip.

“Okay,” you started, changing tactics. Your tone became harsh. “You need to calm down.”

“Well, I'm sorry, I can't,” Dean sassed.

“You didn’t want to be treated like you’re four, so stop acting like it,” you commanded. “Be a man, Winchester. If you’re a basketcase, you’re wide open to possession. Get your shit together. Right now.”

Dean took a deep breath.

You smiled. “Great. Onto the Rituale Romanum.”

“The what?” Sam and Dean asked in unison.

“The exorcism ritual,” you elaborated. “It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful.”

“More powerful?” Dean questioned, his voice strained and eyes wide.

“Yup.”

“How?” He was starting to get panicky again.

“It’d just be able to wreak havoc on its own without a vessel,” you informed.

“Oh. And why is that a good thing?”

“ 'Cause the second part of that sends the bitch back to hell once and for all.”

“First things first, we got to find it.”

“There ya go,” you chuckled.

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled, getting up from his chair with the EMF Walkman.

You and Sam let him walk down the aisle by himself for a few minutes before the two of you got up to go talk to him.

You tapped his shoulder.

“Ah!” Dean jumped back, wheeling around to face you. “Don’t do that!”

“Anything?” Sam asked.

The older brother shook his head. “No, nothing. How much time we got?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Sam told you and his brother. “Maybe we missed somebody.”

“Maybe the thing's just not on the plane,” Dean shrugged.

“No way. Dean, it’s gonna be here,” you protested. Just as you spoke, the EMF meter spiked.

You looked up to see the copilot coming out of the bathroom.

“What?” Sam asked. “What is it?”

You stared at the copilot. “Christo.”

The man’s head slowly turned toward you and the boys, his eyes black.

You wheeled around to face Sam. “We gotta talk to Amanda.”

“She's not gonna believe this,” Sam contested.

“You’re probably right, but we only got twelve minutes,” you reminded the younger brother. You walked ahead of the boys into the concessions area where Amanda busied herself.

“Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope,” she smiled politely, clearly caught off-guard by your presence.

“Actually—” Dean began, “—that's kind of what we need to talk to you about.”

Sam closed the curtains behind you as Amanda answered Dean. “Um, okay. What can I do for you?”

“Alright, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole ‘the truth is out there’ speech right now,” Dean rushed out.

She looked confused but kept her smile painted on her face.

“Alright, look, we know you were on flight 2485,” Sam continued for Dean.

Her grin disappeared. “Who are you guys?”

Sam ignored her question. “Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure.”

“We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now,” the older brother told her.

“I'm sorry—” she started, attempting to move past you, “I— I'm very busy. I have to go back—”

“Chuck Lambert’s dead, Amanda,” you cut in, effectively stopping her from leaving. “The pilot from 2485.”

“Wait. What?” She turned to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. “Chuck is dead?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “He died in a plane crash. That’s the second plane crash in two months. Doesn’t that strike you as weird?”

She shook her head in complete disbelief.

“Look, there was something wrong with 2485,” Sam added. “Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too.”

Dean made a last attempt to drive the point home. “Amanda, you have to believe us.”

The blonde looked to the ground. “On… on 2485, there was this man. He… had these eyes.”

“Black eyes?” you asked.

She nodded.

“That’s exactly what we’re talking about,” Sam clarified.

“I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?”

Dean answered before you got the chance to. “Okay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here.”

Amanda looked between the three of you, confused. “Why? What does he have to do with anything?”

“Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?”

“How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot—” You could practically see her mind running a mile a minute.

Even Sam was getting impatient. “Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit.”

“Do you know that I could lose my job if you—”

“Babe, you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't go get him right now,” you remarked.

She looked at you and nodded, turning to leave for the cockpit.

As soon as Amanda made it out of the curtains, you fished the holy water out of your hoodie’s pocket, moving to press your back against the wall next to the closed blue curtains.

A few moments later, you heard the copilot say to Amanda, “Yeah, what's the problem?” Just outside the curtains. As soon as the demon ducked into the small room, Dean punched him in the face. He then shoved the demon to the ground and slapped duct tape over his mouth.

“Wait,” Amanda protested as you got down on the ground beside Dean, “What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him.”

“We are gonna talk to him,” Dean replied simply as you splashed the copilot with holy water.

The demon groaned under the duct tape, his skin sizzling and burning holes through his shirt.

“Oh, my god. What's wrong with him?” Amanda cried.

“Look,” Sam started calmly, “We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain.”

Amanda’s breath quickened. “Well, I don't underst— I don't know—”

“Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that? Amanda?”

She gave herself a pep talk before heading outside of the curtains.

“Hurry up, Sam,” Dean groaned. “I don't know how much longer I can hold him.”

The demon went to kick the older Winchester in the back, but you dove to grab his legs.

Sam began reciting the Latin ritual written in his father’s journal. “Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino—”

The demon kneed you in the forehead, causing you to fall back and got a few good swings at the boys in as well. You clambered on top of the copilot, sitting on his stomach with his arms pinned by his sides under your legs.

Sam continued with the ritual before the demon threw you off of him. He ripped the tape off of his mouth and turned to Sam. “I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!”

You attempted to recover from getting slammed into the wall while Dean focused on attacking the demon.

Sam sat there in shock, so you grabbed the journal and tried to finish the ritual.

The demon hit Dean again, effectively getting the young man off of him and knocking Dean into you. The book fell from your hand, and the demon kicked it out into the passenger’s cabin.

A cloud of black smoke flew out from the copilot’s body and into a vent while Sam went out into the aisle to find the journal.

Suddenly, the plane shook violently and took a nosedive. The lights in the plane flickered and you and Dean were thrown to the back wall of the concession’s area.

You and Dean screamed as the plane went down. Dean held onto the emergency exit door for dear life as you pressed yourself into the corner opposite from the older Winchester.

Your yelps were cut off when the plane leveled out following a surge of electricity coursing through the aircraft. You assumed Sam was able to finish the ritual and the pilot was able to regain control of the plane.

You shakily stood up from the ground and dusted yourself off, tugging on the sleeves of your large hoodie.

You stepped out into the passenger’s cabin, heading to Sam as people began asking their neighbors if they were okay.

You wrapped Sam in a short, tight hug as you thanked him for keeping his head level enough to finish the ritual and trying to comfort him after what the demon had said. When you had made your way back to your seats, a slight rumble went through the aircraft. Dean grabbed your hand once again, and kept it there for the rest of the flight. A small smile tugged at your lips.

After landing back at your original airport, you stood beside Sam and Dean as you watched the swarms of EMTs, FBI agents, and FAA agents go from person to person. They questioned or looked over each one, and your focus bounced between them.

You found Amanda in the crowd talking to an FBI agent, and she turned to the side to mouth “thank you” to you and the Winchesters.

“Let's get out of here,” Dean said firmly.

You began to head to the exit when Dean asked Sam, “You okay?”

You turned back to Sam, who reminded you and his brother, “Dean, it knew about Jessica.”

“Sam, these things, they, they read minds. They lie. Alright? That's all it was.” The older brother attempted to brush Sam’s concerns off.

“Yeah.” The brunet didn’t sound convinced.

“Come on.”

***

The next day, you and the Winchesters visited Jerry at his workplace to give him the final mission report. Jerry showed you and the boys out and escorted you to the Impala parked outside of the warehouse.

“Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed,” he acknowledged. He shook your hand before turning to the boys. “Your dad's gonna be real proud.”

Sam gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile. “We'll see you around, Jerry.”

You turned to the car, as did Dean before he turned back to the older man.

“You know, Jerry—" he began.

“Yeah.”

“I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway?” the young man continued. “I've only had it for like six months.”

“Your dad gave it to me,” Jerry explained simply.

“What?” Sam exclaimed in shock.

“When did you talk to him?” Dean questioned.

“I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call.” He took a pause. “Thanks again, guys— and gal,” he grinned.

“Bye, Jerry!” you called after him as he headed off.

“This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service,” Sam told his brother.

Dean dials what you assumed was his father’s number. However, instead of the out-of-service message Sam had described, a voicemail began to play.

The two boys leaned into the phone so they could hear it better.

You leaned over Sam’s shoulder, the voice hard to hear, but you were still able to make out the words. “This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.”

Sam fumed, shaking his head in frustration as he got in the car. He slammed the door behind him. You looked over to Dean, who did not meet your gaze. He got in the car following his brother. You took one last look at the setting sun as a plane flew over your head.

“I fuckin’ hate flying,” you muttered.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel

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

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a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual · 9 months

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Nimona headcanons that I wrote in like 15 minutes don’t judge me

I feel like both Bal and Ambrosius are the kinds of people who try and act like they’re not sick

Bal has an amazing immune system he rarely if ever gets sick

But when he does get sick he’ll be in absolute denial about it

If someone confronts him all he’ll say is “No I’m fine I don't get sick” and then he’ll push himself until he’s literally sitting in a hospital still acting like he’s not sick

Ambrosius has the worst immune system you can possibly imagine

Someone sneezes on this boy and he’s sick for the next two weeks

But he’s also sick enough times that he’s convinced himself that he can work through anything

After a while he’s literally forced to relax and be taken care of and he complains the entire time that he should be working

I’ve kind of alluded to this headcanon but I don’t think Nimona can get sick

But if she could get sick she would be the most annoying person known to mankind

She would have a sore throat and make the biggest deal about it and force the boys to take care of her

And the boys will comply because this is one of the few times that Nimona lets them take care of her

I mentioned in this post tags that they all hand make every single present

The first thing that Bal ever made/gave Ambrosius was welded rose that he made out of scrap metal

He thought it was a stupid present but Ambrosius got super emotional and said it was the best present he had ever received

Bal highly doubted that cause Ambrosius literally got a car as a birthday present once

But then he saw it in a little vase that Ambrosius made and it became kind of a tradition after that

During every big event in their lives Bal welded Ambrosius a rose and he kept every single one

By the time the knighting ceremony rolled around he had close to 80

Ambrosius made more heavy-duty vases just to hold all of the flowers

It’s kind of sweet because you can see both of their hobbies improving as the years go on

The first gift Bal ever got from Ambrosius was a sweater he crochet himself

He made it cause he knows that Bal runs cold and he would make off-handed comments about it every once and a while

He was kind of nervous cause he never took on a project that big before

Bal wore it all the damn time

He treated that sweater like it was gold which is why he was crushed when it started unraveling

He went to Ambrosius sobbing with an arm full of yarn apologizing and saying he ruined it

Mind you he gave him that sweater like 5 years prior and had knitted and crocheted him a million things afterwards

It was a miracle that the sweater lasted as long as it did

He spent the entire night consoling him while asking for his input on the new one he was currently working on

The first gift Bal and Ambrosius gave Nimona made him tear up and cling to them as an actual koala for the rest of the night

Bal welded him a little dragon and Ambrosius crocheted him a little rhino

The first gift Nimona gave the boys was for both of them

It was a painting of the three of them the boys thought it was beautiful but also incredibly out of character

Until they gave them the second painting of the three of them fighting guards as the institute burned down behind them

The boys framed both and hung them in the living room

Whenever Ambrosius goes anywhere he’s swarmed by groups of people and sometimes those people will ask questions about his clothes and jewelry

And he gets this proud look in his eyes while he says “Oh my kid made this in the living room 15 minutes before I left the house”

When Bal proposed he actually made both the engagement and their wedding rings

He always got compliments on both rings and Ambrosius would let them get a better look while gushing about all the little details that were put into it

And this doesn’t stop when Bal and Nimona are around either

In fact he’ll drag them over and gush about them while they get progressively more embarrassed

#nimona 2023 #nimona movie #nimona headcanon #nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #goldenheart #they get back at him tho #they'll wear the shit he makes just to make him emotional #Bal will wear the old sweaters and Ambrosius will get all nostalgic on him #because he remembers literally everything he's made for them #but he's not used to his hobbies being taken seriously #they also use plates and mugs he made #no matter how old and ugly they are

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piratefishmama · 10 months

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Fake It 'till You Make It | Part 1

The phone was ringing. It was eight in the morning, on a Sunday, and the phone was ringing. Eddie rolled over, pushing his face into his pillow in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, he’d suffocate in the sweet embrace of his misshapen, well-loved pillow before whoever dared to call at such an ungodly hour, decided to give up.

No dice. However his uncle did seem to be answering it for him, bless that man, bless each and every one of his gray hairs.

“Eddie, up an at em, son! S’fer you!” Damn him. Damn him and all his gray hairs.

“Nggghhhh!!!!” Was his very coherent response

“It’s one of those kids’a yours!” Kids? He had kids? Oh shit he had kids, right. kids who should know better than to call at EIGHT. AM. AM. THE MORNING.

ON A SUNDAY.

Just inconsiderate really. He’d spent the majority of the previous night convincing the Gillespie’s that maybe their daughter didn’t actually need to get onto the endless carousel that was the dating scene.

Convincing them that maybe the dating pool was so batshit insane that it was for the best that she remain perfectly single for a little while longer. That maybe being single wasn’t nearly as bad as being with whatever the fuck Eddie Munson was.

Eddie had spent the entire evening referring to her father by his first name as it visibly pissed him off, called his daughter ‘sweet cheeks’ and slapped her ass as she left the room one too many times (any time more than zero times was too many times), offered her mother a joint to chill the fuck out, talked about his band incessantly, he’d gone all out on the ‘disrespectful sack of shit’ angle until he’d been forbidden to date their daughter.

Then listened with glee outside the door while they declared she was forbidden from dating for as long as it took to shake her from her ‘bad boy’ phase. A job well done, she’d slipped him the fifty bucks she owed for the night through the back window, and he was on his way. Fifty bucks better off!

Megan wasn’t having a bad boy phase. Megan was a lesbian waiting for the perfect opportunity to get the fuck out of Hawkins. She just… couldn’t handle her parents constantly asking about her dating life. Or her lack of a dating life.

She was beautiful, the picture of stereotypical femininity, they had no idea why their daughter wasn’t snagging one of the rich Loch Nora guys like a Harrington, or a Johnson, or even one of the B grade rich guys like Hagan, or Peters.

She was too busy with a Holloway.

Then the following hours before he’d eventually passed out, he’d been slowly working through memorizing the chorus tabs of an Iron Maiden song he’d been meaning to learn for one of the covers used to bulk up Corroded Coffin’s sets. Jeff already had his parts down, Eddie had been lagging.

“M’not here!”

“Says it’s important!”

“Tell em I’m dead!”

There was a pause, and then his bedroom door was opening, and a cushion was thrown at his head, forcing him upright to shout his indignation to the world while his uncle stood there stern and unimpressed “Boy get your backside up an talk to y’damn friends.”

“Nghhh, fine.” He was up anyway. The phone ringing had woken him up. It’d take a miracle to fall back into a full snooze now. He shoved his blankets aside, trudged past his uncle, and snagged the phone from where Wayne had left it on the little table by the window. “Whomever this may be, I’m nuking your stats next session for the unholy crime of waking me up before noon.”

“But I’m calling about a job”

“Ahh, Henderson. Might as well just tear up the sheet for that little gnome now, kid.”

“He’s a dwarf and— ngh whatever, I needed to roll a new character anyway. Listen! I have a job for you, if you want it, one of your weird little rent a guy gigs” not something he was proud to have let slip around the kids. It could get weird if they made assumptions!

But if it got him an extra buck or two without having to do much other than be an over the top version of himself, then what was the harm? It wasn’t like he was selling his body or anything, just his funhouse personality.

“…Go on.”

“Okay so… don’t freak out, but… it’s a guy. He’s cool though!! Like, really cool, super chill, no danger to you what so ever.” That was fine, his ‘dates’ were usually fake but that didn’t erase the very real danger of being perceived by two of an older less cool generation that talked. “He knows it’s all fake so it’s just acting—"

“And this guy’s parents? How cool are they?” It wasn’t just faking a date, it was faking it in front of parents. Parents who usually weren’t about to approve of him when it was a heterosexual relationship. A Homosexual one? He really didn’t want to have to go through the real risks of hate crimes with a teenager, but Dustin clearly wasn’t getting the danger aspect there.

“I don’t know, I don’t really know them, but he says he can explain everything if you give him a chance, he’s free today, he even said he’d buy you breakfast if you meet him early!”

“…And he knows I’m a him, not a her, right?”

“Yeah, I said he was cool! The gay thing isn’t a big deal to him.”

“I’m not—” it was instinctual, Dustin didn’t know what he was, maybe he’d heard rumours, but he didn’t outright know that his dungeon master was a queer. Probably for the best, as lovely as Claudia Henderson was, she was very susceptible to accepting the crowdsourced opinion on things. She didn’t have her sons need to question everything.

She’d probably pull him from every Hellfire meet ever if Dustin let it slip that the guy in charge was queer.

“I know you’re not, but it’s fake right? it’s not like you guys have to do anything other than claim to be dating, right?” True… he never actually did anything with his ‘dates’. Usually just telling the parents they were dating was enough of a shock to the system to hide the lack of proof. The most he’d ever done was slap an ass here and there, maybe wrap an arm around a waist or two.

That was enough for the ‘traditional’ close minded Parents of Hawkins.

“…Fine, I’ll hear the guy out, but I’m only hearing him out alright! I’ll decide on whether or not I wanna take this job only after he explains, got it?”

“Got it!!”

“Alright, tell him to meet me at Benny’s in twenty.” Another quick confirmation and Eddie was hanging up the phone. so much for going back to sleep but at least he’d get a lovely breakfast out of it.

Part 3

#PirateWrites #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet

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cultofdixon · 6 months

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That growling wasn’t a walker

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • You can handle just one walker…or a few…or really, yeah. Daryl is in for a surprise • SFW/Smol ANGST • TW: Minor Injuries / Anxiety

Requested by: Anon

“It’s getting late, should set up camp somewhere”

“Go ahead and set it up” Y/N handed Daryl the few squirrels and one rabbit she caught, earning a confused look from the man. “Heard some walkers. Gonna take them out before setting up our trigger lines”

“Smart…just be safe okay?” Daryl reminds his partner always as she gave him a smile bringing herself close enough for him to meet half way for their lips to touch. “Don’t make me have to come after yea” a hint of a smirk peaked out when Y/N playfully smacked him in the chest before heading toward the low growling she heard.

Y/N went a bit further than she expected from where she was with Daryl. The sound grew louder so she half expected to deal with at least a handful of walkers. Nothing she can’t handle. She was starting to hear a different tone with the growling that it started to come off as animalistic.

“Hm…” Y/N kept her gun holstered and readied her hunting axe when it came to the bigger animals.

And boy. Wait til Daryl heard about this

She’s been gone a minute Daryl thought as he finished the fire and half the trigger lines, keeping the direction she went off to open so she wouldn’t trip and hurt herself. It’s happened. He’s learned his lesson.

Footsteps started to come clear and they were heavier than normal if they were Y/N’s. He knows it’s wrong but to be safe he readied his crossbow and soon enough her silhouette came clear. Daryl instantly glued his gaze to the amount of blood on her and tried not to think too hard about it.

“Rough kill?”

“Something like that—-Hey Daryl, have you ever like eaten a grizzly bear?”

That made him look up at her confused stopping himself from making a makeshift grill.

“Nah, be crazy to hunt a bear”

Y/N crouched down a bit to his level as Daryl got a clearer look at the blood on her noticing it was fresh and part of his mind went to she got hurt.

“Would you…say they’re edible though? Never heard somebody eat a bear”

“Anythin’ is edible if you’re hungry—-You gotta sit down let me look—-“

“Cool. I got bear for dinner” She patted her legs as she rose from the crouched position taking a few steps back before dragging a dead bear into view. “Son of a bitch put up a fight”

The man was speechless watching her drag this grizzly bear next to him and immediately sat on the other side taking out her knife about to start skinny when he stopped her.

“Sweets, we gotta get you cleaned up and make sure you ain’t too badly injured”

“I’m not. Just a few scratches and probably a gnarly bruise on my side from getting almost knocked off my feet but I’m good” Y/N plopped herself down and started to get to work, and Daryl helped her knowing if he quickened the process he can access her injuries.

It took a few hours and a bit of convincing, but here they were. Sitting next to one another enjoying some of the bear meat while the rest was wrapped up and hung up to avoid losing the hunt to what was hunted. Daryl finished wrapping Y/N’s arm in the last of the bandage he carried letting her finally have a full grasp on some of the bear meat.

“You’re crazy you know that”

“I’m hangry, let me enjoy this”

The archer rolled his eyes watching her eat and occasionally adjust the bear pelt laid on her shoulders. It was still unsettling that his partner took on a bear, not surprising because she can definitely handle shit but how she didn’t get help or even wanted it.

“Just wait til Michonne hears about this”

“She’s gonna be so proud” Y/N laughs a little to herself knowing damn well Michonne is gonna accuse Daryl of not keeping a close eye on his partner. Because she has a tendency of doing radical things.

Once they packed up and headed back home, Michonne wasn’t the only one to greet them back as she was accompanied by Carol and Aaron who both noticed the bandages and bear pelt on Y/N.

“Daryl, what happened?”

“We brought back a lot of game” Daryl states dropping the bag by Aaron’s feet as he immediately looked inside with a confused look.

“Uh. That’s a lot of meat”

“Captain Obvious over here” Y/N laughs, shrugging the bear pelt off and handing it to Michonne as she kept her attention on her injuries. “Hey, it lost the fight”

“You two hunted a bear?? You know how dangerous—-“

“Ha!” Y/N cut Carol off immediately. “We…”

Then all three of them looked at Daryl with a hint of anger and worry but the second emotion was more directed toward Y/N.

“She hunted a bear”

“All by herself”

“When she could’ve just left it alone” Michonne finishes only to roll her eyes to Daryl’s shrug of a response.

“She didn’t die”

“SHE STILL GOT HURT!” Aaron pointed out the obvious one more time as Y/N sighs patting Daryl on the shoulder.

“They are ungrateful to my hard work” and with that she made her way back to their place. Knowing damn well Daryl was going to get chewed out by the three and she wasn’t going to stay there for that.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #short but I think it’s great

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ashisill · 5 months

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I wait for you

Warnings: smoking, drinking, crying, mentions of sex, self sabotage, depression, suicidal thoughts, mentions of debating suicidal (it’s mentioned a few times. Please heed the warning if this triggers you), angst, angst, more angst, and being hopelessly in love with Sir Jacob Kiszka.

~This one is a lot, but I am very proud of how it turned out.

You and Jake had something special. Something that only comes once in a lifetime. Everyone watched you two, and wished for what you had. He loved you more than himself. More than his iced cold whiskey after a show. More than his beloved guitar. Honestly if you were to need him mid-show he’d drop everything, and run right off the stage for you. He was always running for you. Always looking for you everywhere he went. All you had to do was say his name, and he was there. He was always there. No matter what. You were truly his first priority. His first choice. His first love …. His only love.

You gave it all up. Things got hard, and you ran away. You fucking left it all behind. Your picture perfect life left in a daze. Although it wasn’t all your fault you still blamed yourself. Jake was busy all the time. Between tour, interviews, and traveling. You began fighting all the time. Every little thing was an argument.

You had your last argument in an cold hotel room. You got physical with each other for the first and last time. He never hurt you. He would never dream of it, but when you had enough you landed a smack against him. He grabbed your arms harder than he meant. You left that night, and you’ve regretted your life ever since. Running was worst decision you’ve ever made. How could you leave him? How could you hurt him when he’s treated you so sweetly. You’ve wanted to call you really did. Was it fear that stoped you? Fear of him hating your guts for what you did. You’d rather live in this unknowing pain than bare the thought.

“Jake wake up you’ve been asleep all day” Josh tried to wake his twin. They’ve found themselves in yet another hotel room. “Jake come on. The shows in a couple hours” he said opening the windows, and nudging Jake.

“Cancel it what’s the fucking point?” he said, and you could smell the whiskey on his breath. To see Jake so hateful towards his passion hurt Josh. ‘You drug me into this damn band, and you don’t even want it’ was the thought that repeated in Josh’s mind.

“Jake your drunk get the hell up” Josh said pulling the covers off, and throwing them on the floor. “I’m not doing it again Jake. I’m tired of this. Get the fuck out of the bed” Josh left slamming the door behind him. Where he was going? He didn’t know, but he needed some fresh air. He headed outside to walk the city.

There you were in the local park with your dog, having no idea they were in your town. Josh stumbled into park. The nature fascinating him, and catching his interest. That curly headed boy you loved so much came into your field of vision. As much as he’s changed over three years you knew it was him. “Josh!” You shouted.

He looked around confused, assuming it was another fan. Then he spotted you waving at him “no fucking way”. You bolted after him, and your dog chased you. “What are you doing here?” He pulled you in for a warm, and welcoming hug.

“I actually live here now. What are you doing here?”

“Got a show tonight darling. I missed you”

“I’ve missed all of you dearly. How is everyone?”

“Let me buy you a drink and we’ll catch up”

Meanwhile Jake is unaware of Josh’s discovery, but he knew you were there. He could feel a change in the air … He could feel you. For some reasons things didn’t seem so bad. For the first time in a while he got himself up, and took a shower. He brushed out his tangled hair, and cleaned himself up. Throwing on his favorite pants, and a button down shirt. Complete with some expensive cologne that he can’t remember where it came from.

Josh told you everything you missed in the past three years. You longed to be there for it all. Finally you asked the question that’s been eating at you since the conversation started. “So” you took a drink preparing yourself. “How is he?”

“Jake? Oh he’s fine. Still Jake I suppose”

“Is he? That’s good” you took another drink.

“Do you believe me when I say that he’s ‘fine’?” He said using his fingers as quotation marks.

“I want to yes. Is it white lie Joshua?”

“It’s a big fat fucking lie. He’s not fine. He hasn’t been fine since that night, but that’s not your problem. It’s just hard taking care of him when he doesn’t want to care for himself”

“I miss him a lot. I hate myself for leaving him. I’m not doing so good myself. I don’t even know myself anymore. It’s like I’m a stranger in my own body. The world seems so dark without him”

“I’m sorry dear. Jake isn’t much better. As much as I’d love to lie, and tell you he’s happy. He’s not at all”

You wanted to tell him the reason for your outing this morning. The true reason why you were there, but you couldn’t. How could you look him in the face, and tell him you didn’t want to live. How could you tell him hours before you were really debating on staying on this Earth. You could see him reacting strongly. You already knew the things he would say. Maybe even shed a tear with you. He’s already dealing with a lot, and you can see it in his eyes. You just couldn’t do it.

“What’s the matter?” He could still read you well.

“It’s just a lot, but I’m okay” lair how could you? He sees straight through it you know he does. He sighs, but doesn’t pry. Instead he simply just changes the subject.

“Have you loved another?”

“Never”

“Never? Not once?”

“Hook ups don’t count. Some of them look like him, but there never him”

“He could say the same darling. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to see him”

“What why not? Please don’t don’t this-”

“I’m not taking him away from you. Just listen to me. He’s not well dear. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true. Come see me after the show, and I’ll think about it. Maybe all he needs is you, but I’m holding back for a reason”

“I think I know why, and I understand. Do you promise you’ll think about it” he’s hesitant because if you left again he knows it would kill Jake. There’s no way in hell he would make it out alive. Just the thought of it makes Josh want to crawl away and cry.

“Would I ever lie to you? I just need what’s best for Jake. I’m sure you understand”

“You so good to him Josh. I wish I had someone like you. Caring for me the way you care for Jake”

“That person is in a hotel room about a mile away. Like I said meet me after the show okay?”

You agreed, and said your goodbyes. Returning to your home to find something nice to wear. What used to be Jake’s favorite dress seems like a perfect fit. Josh headed back to the hotel to find his brother. “Jake you better be out of-”

“Yeah” was all he said.

“Feel good today?”

“I suppose so. Where’d you go?”

“Oh ya know for a walk”

“Where’d you go? Terrible liar you are”

“The bar. I’m glad your feeling better today”

He just nodded his head. Josh sighed knowing it’s taking everything out of him not to tell Jake. ‘Your lovers back! Your lovers back! She’s here you don’t have to be sad anymore! Please don’t be sad anymore. She’s here, and she loves you!’he wanted to shout it at him. To see Jake smile for the first time in three whole years. To see his face light up like it once did before. Instead he stayed quiet, and went on about his business. “Can you go check if sam is ready?” He asked Jake.

You did just as Josh said, and after the show he snuck you backstage. “I need you to be really quiet, and not let him hear you. Walls are paper thin darling” he said locking the door behind him. “I need you to answer me completely honest”

“Okay what’s up?”

“Your gonna stay?”

“A part of me died that day. I can’t go through this again. I fucking miss him Josh! I would go through hell again just to hold him one more time. I’d break all my bones if that’s what he wanted. If he asked for the moon I’d bring it to him. The stars too. He’s my world Josh need him back. I need his love. I need his touch. I need him Josh I need him. This morning I didn’t want to live any longer without him. The scary part is I almost fucking did it. That’s why I was at the park. I needed air. I needed to breath. Moments before you saw me I was crying on a park bench. Embarrassing I know, but it’s the truth.

“Oh darling no. No sweet girl no”

You broke into tears, and Josh comforted you with a hug. Like you predicted tears started to fall from his own eyes. “We need you here. You belong here. I am so fucking proud of you. Your here. Your alive. To know that life has been so terrible to you that you questioned living. It makes me want to hide away, and shelter you from every bad thing. I know I didn’t tell you this enough, but I love you. I really love you, and I don’t want you to be in pain anymore. Your safe now, and in a few moments everything will be okay again. I promise you. I know how bad your struggling. I see Jake everyday, and it just gets worse. I just want to see him happy again. Your the only solution my darling. I haven’t seen him smile in three years. He’s never excited about anything. He doesn’t have anything to talk about, and he always drunk. Always. When he does speak it’s either to cuss me out, or it’s about you. I know how bad things are, and I want to see you feel okay again too”

“What does he say about me?” You asked as Josh wiped your tears.

“It always starts angry. He’s angry because he wants to be happy again, but he can’t be. Your the light in his life. Then he starts to act like he’s angry with you. Sometimes he’ll cuss you out too. Then he’ll start to cry, and your name is all he knows. When I try to comfort him he’ll ask for you. I’ll say “she’s not here Jake”, and he’ll remember that your gone. He’ll start to think of you, and how he loves you so deeply. He’ll tell me some stories about the two of you before it hurts to much. Normally ends with him crying himself to sleep or getting so drunk he can’t feel you lingering”

“How could I do this to him? Your positive he wants to see me?” You asked trying not to lose your control.

“Come with me”

Josh knocked on Jake’s dressed room, and an annoyed “what?” came with it.

“Can I come in? I have someone you might want to talk to”

‘Could it be her?’. Jake went quiet, and Josh opened the door. There he stood with a cigarette in his fingers. His face dropped, and neither one of you moved. You’ve looked for him in every room, but now he’s here. A rush of adrenaline flowed through his veins. He feels alive for the first time, and all you had to do was walk into the room. Color has returned to his pale face. His eyes once grey, and gloomy now glowing in your light.

You both just stood there questioning if this was real. You broke the cement that glued you to the floor, and ran once again. Straight into his arms this time. Josh knew everything was finally better, and left shutting the door behind him. Letting his back rest against the shut door. His hand covered his mouth as he began to cry once more. Crying because Jake’s gonna be okay again. Because he knows all is well now that your here. Tonight he’ll fall sleep without a single worry. He’ll drift away knowing his brothers happy. Knowing he won’t have to make himself sick from worrying. Or staying up half the night waiting for Jake to come back with some girl that looks similar to you. He’s safe, and Josh can finally breath again.

You gripped, and pulled at each other like this was a dream you were going to wake up from. His hair got longer, he still wears those same old jeans, and he still smells like home.

“I’ve missed you” was all you could manage to say.

“My girl” he kissed your forehead. “Oh my girl”

You buried yourself in his neck fighting back tears. “I thought I’d never see you again. I wanted to call I really did”

“Shh shh it’s okay. I promise”

After all you put him through he’s still forgiving. The pain he’s been in for the three years was nothing just to feel you again. He’s willing to forget this ever happened just to keep you in his arms forever.

“I love you ya know? Time hasn’t changed it a bit”

“I love you too Jake”

His lips were locked on yours immediately. You pulled at each others hair, and the collars of your shirt. Trying desperately to get closer to each other. “Jakey”

“God I’ve missed you calling me that”

“I missed you. I missed you so much”

“I’ve miss you to my love. Do the others know your here?”

“Only Josh”

“Assuming he found you when he went on his supposed ‘walk’ the morning” he said holding your face in his hands.

“Well to be fair he was on a walk, and I found him”

“You found us. You came home. God I’ve missed you. Every day when I wake up your on my mind, and it stays that way till I sleep. Even in my sleep you haunt my dreams every night”

Lips crashing against each others once more. Emotion running through you both. “Why’d you leave me baby?”

“I don’t know Jacob. I don’t know”

His hand wrapped around your neck, and he kissed you hard. “Don’t leave again” his eyes began to water

“I’m here Jake. I’m not going anywhere my love”

He brought you to the small couch in the corner. Tangled up into each other, kissing his neck, and hands wandering each other’s bodies. Wordlessly you agreed to save it for later. Your felt tired like you haven’t slept in years. As you laid on your lover your eyes began to fell heavy. Jake laid their wide awake wondering how you were here. It didn’t feel real, and he held on to you just in case he woke up from this dream.

Josh came back later to tell Jake everyone was headed out. You were passed out on his chest completely unaware. “We’re fixing to leave” Josh whispered at the door.

“Alright” he woke you up gently. “Time to go sleepy girl”

You and Jake took a drive, and enjoyed the city lights. After you hit the bar that was in the lobby, and headed back to the hotel room. Everyone was gathered in the twins room talking about the show.

“Yeah I know. Did you hear how bad I fucked that up?” Josh belted out laughing far louder than he needed to.

Jake swiped the card, and the opened the door. You laughed almost as loud as Josh. As the alcohol hit your system everything was just so damn funny.

“Is that … her?” Sam asked confused.

“Sam look at Jake of course it’s her” Danny knowing immediately by Jake’s smile that it was indeed you.

“Y/n! Y/n! It’s you! Your back!” He shouted.

“Oh my god I’ve missed you Sammy”

“Good to have you back” Danny hugged you tight. You let your self go limp in his arms. “Someone’s drunk huh?”

“Just a little bit Danny”

“Josh check out this record I bought” Sam said already distracted.

“Let’s hear it brother”

It was a soft jazz album of a band you’ve never heard of. Jake’s eyes were fixated on you as you spoke to Danny. He reached out his hand, and you grabbed it with a giggle. He danced around the room with you, spinning you round and round. Stumbling all over the place, and tripping over each others feet. Josh watched in awe as a smile never left Jake’s face.

A little while later after the chatter quieted you collapsed onto the bed. Josh motioned Jake to come to him. They went out to the balcony “I’m proud of you Jacob”

“Thank you for taking care of me for so long. You could of kicked me to the curb. Or let me quit my job, but you didn’t. I’ll never be able to repay you, but know I wouldn’t be here without you”

“I promised you I’d always be here for you. I love you man”

“I love you too bud” they shared a hug before Jake followed you to the bed.

“Tying to escape?” you joked peeking your eyes open at him.

“Now ma’am I thought you were asleep” Jake said kissing your forehead.

You shook your head, and he joined you in the bed. You cuddled up on his side, threw your leg and arm over him, and began to fall asleep.

“Promise we’ll stay like this forever?”

“For infinity my love. I’ll find you in every universe I live I promise”

“I love you Jakey”

“I love you too my girl”

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alovesongtheywrote · 5 months

Note

can i please ask for another part of nightmare academia if you can 😭😭 i need a pick me up so bad bc of exam week at my campus and i loveee your series sm!!!

sending love 🫶🫶

♥ Summary: This should help! I hope your exams went well!! In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, Spencer makes up for past mistakes and you take him home. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: mentions of the stab, guilt

♥ A/N: ok, we're getting goofy again- at least, for now

♥ Word Count: 1382

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

You didn’t see Reid again until he came back to work. You saw Penelope every now and then, and she kept you updated on his condition until she left, but you never saw Reid until he came back. Once he did, all your mugs went missing. Honestly, you were kind of proud.

You were hesitant to retrieve your stolen property- hesitant to see Reid again. You stood outside his door for a good ten minutes before you even bothered to knock. When you heard his voice through the door, telling you to come in, you almost turned tail and ran.

You were avoiding him, not because of your anger but because of your guilt. You couldn’t stand seeing him hurt and motionless in the hospital, broken because of you- so you just avoided him. It was the cowardly thing to do, but still, you did it.

Now, you needed to see him again- you needed to get your mugs back. You needed coffee. You pushed open the door.

Reid’s face lit up when he saw you. His eyes were so bright, and his smile blinding. You felt so guilty.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?”

You weren’t entirely sure if his words were genuine, or if he was playing a game with you. Either way, you could play along, “I’m here for my mugs, Reid.”

“I thought you’d say that. Go back to your office, they’re already there.”

You tilted your head, “Not bad. You took the base prank and elevated it. Smart.”

Spencer shrugged, “Thanks.”

You paused halfway through the door, tapping a nonsense pattern into the wall outside his office. Staying felt wrong, but you couldn’t leave. Not yet.

“Hey, uh. I’m sorry I didn’t visit you in the hospital. I was-”

“(Y/N), I know what you did.”

You paused, looking up at him with wide eyes. Yes, he knew what you did, you got him stabbed- did he know how guilty you felt about it?

“You covered my classes for me,” he picked up his own mug, “You were busy. Don’t worry about it.”

You nodded, taking in a deep breath, “Perfect… And uh, are you- how are you settling in?”

You didn’t know a person’s smile could make you feel physically warm, but his did, “I’m doing okay. I told you, I’ll be fine.”

“You did. Just one of many things you’re right about, I guess. And you- you aren’t hurt, right?”

He shook his head, “I told you, I’m okay.”

“Good- perfect,” you paused, fingers still pressed against the wall, “Now tell me to get the hell out of your office.”

He laughed a little, taking a sip of his coffee, “Get the hell out of my office, Professor.”

“Good boy.”

You left, missing the delicious sight of Reid melting into an absolute puddle at your words. He wondered, briefly, if you were trying to put him back in the hospital. He could never tell when it came to you- but god, if you wanted to put him in the hospital, all you had to do was ask.

Upon returning to your office, you were met with the sight of two cardboard boxes on your desk. One of them contained your mugs. Inside the other, a 1960s Vintage Royal Empress Typewriter measuring about twelve inches in width and weighing thirty-three pounds and eight ounces. You could feel the tears forming behind your eyes. Your typewriter had been destroyed in the attack.

Somehow, Reid had gone out and found you a new goddamn typewriter that was the exact same make and model as your old one. You could kiss that damn bean-pole- you wanted to kiss that damn bean-pole.

Your fingers brushed over the polished metal of the machine. In the box, beside it, you found a note.

“I remember you said something about being in the market for a vintage typewriter. I found this and thought you’d like it. Feel free to use it the next time you get angry at me.”

It wasn’t signed, but you didn’t need a signature. That was his handwriting. He bought you a typewriter. You got him stabbed, and he bought you a fucking typewriter. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you took a seat at your desk.

That evening, Spencer passed by your office on his way home. He stood outside the door for a second, listening to the click of the keys beneath your fingers. He stayed there for a while, in the otherwise silent hallway, letting the click of the keys promise him that you were nearby.

He’d missed you, during his recovery. He knew that you felt guilty. He couldn’t forget what you said in the hospital. He also knew that you were busy- you’d picked up his classes without a second thought, and while you had done an incredible job, he knew that couldn’t have been easy. That hadn’t kept him from missing you, though.

He had to face that down, too- the fact that he could miss you so much after only hours of being away from you. You’d settled in so nicely with everything else in his life. He’d gotten used to you, and you were such a presence that nothing could come close to replacing you. That probably wasn’t normal, but it was a therapy appointment for another day.

Until then, he would let himself listen to you type away at the machine he got you.

He stayed in the hallway for a few short minutes, until the click of the keys stopped. He barely noticed the change. He did, however, notice you stepping out of your office with your bag slung over your shoulder. You were clearly surprised to see him.

“Shit! Reid! It’s you. Fuck, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” he winced, “I didn’t mean to-”

“I know,” you swayed a little, side to side in the doorway, “But hey, it’s good that I caught you, I uh. I wanted to say thanks. You- you really didn’t have to get me a new typewriter, Reid.”

“Well, technically it isn’t new. The Vintage Royal Empress line didn’t come out until-”

“Reid. You know what I mean. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem. I mean, you saved my life, so-”

“Saved your life?” you scoffed, “Reid, you wouldn’t have gotten stabbed if it weren’t for me.”

“And I would have bled out if you hadn’t been there.”

“And you wouldn’t have been bleeding if it weren’t for me.”

“If it weren’t for you, what? If it weren’t for you looking out for your students? If it weren’t for you protecting Missy? If it weren’t for you being smart enough to use the typewriter as a weapon? Tell me, (Y/N), what did you do to get me stabbed?”

“I-” you were at a loss for words, “I’m sure there’s something I did, I just. Can’t think of it. Right now.”

Spencer smiled, “Maybe you just want to stab me.”

“No!” you practically jumped across the hallway, stopping right in front of Reid, “I do not want that.”

“Clearly.”

Your eyes darted down over Reid’s stomach, hovering over the location of the wound. You couldn’t see it, but you remembered the red stain across his shirt, the pool of blood that got bigger and bigger no matter how hard you’d pressed down.

Before you could even think of stopping yourself, your fingers brushed lightly against his torso. Your touch was gentle- enough for him to feel, but not enough for him to flinch. Inside your office, the lights flickered. You only realized what you were doing when Spencer moved to wrap his hand around yours.

You jumped a little, shaking your head as you came back to your senses.

“Shit- I’m sorry, I um-”

“Don’t apologize,” Spencer’s voice was soft. His eyes carried some sort of gentle confidence within them.

You squeezed his hand.

“Hey, you aren’t taking the train home, are you?”

“I am, why?”

“Because if someone elbows you in the wrong spot, you’re gonna bleed out on the train, and I’m gonna feel like shit about it.”

“That’s highly unlikely. The stitches have already-”

“Spencer,” you stopped him, “You can tell me about it in the car. Let me drive you home.”

On both accounts, he did.

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!! if you would like to be tagged and aren't, also let me know :D

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #x reader #nightmare academia

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 5 months

Text

You’re the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 5

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

All OC Characters belong to me

Taglist: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci24 @jeyusos-girl @jeyusosgirl @melaninsugababy @baconeggndcheez @bemybabiibish @jstarr86 @nbanenefrmdao @purplehairgawdess @arination99 @alyyaanna @m3llowww @gomussy @jeysbae @babysyhsy @bebesobrielo @empressdede @venusesworld @harmshake @mustafumilf @theninthwonder

NOVEMBER 23RD 2020

Incoming text from Josh Fatu: good morning, can’t wait to see u tonite ❤️

Airielle stared at the text message with a smile on her face. Even though she was happy she was also extremely nervous, this would be her first date in 3 years since…Airielle quickly shook her head trying to get rid of those thoughts. She jumped when Yasmine burst through the door carrying shopping bags. Airielle rolled her eyes as Yasmine passed her a Victoria’s Secret bag.

“Just something sexy to wear.” Airielle laughed and thanked her. “You nervous? It’s been a while since you been on a date.” Yasmine paused “Even though I still think those other two should count but whatever.” She shrugged.

“Yeah im freaking the fuck out honestly.” Yasmine reached over and grabbed Airielle’s hands, giving them a squeeze.

“Just remember, you are not defined by what happened to you. You are the light that refused to surrender.” Airielle smiled softly and looked away from Yasmine. “I know I give you shit about getting back in the dating scene,” Yasmine grabbed Airielle’s cheeks to make her look back at her. “But I just want you to know how proud of you I am. Just have fun and be free.” Airielle pulled Yasmine to her in a tight hug.

“Yo bro.” Josh looked over at the door when Jon came strolling through.

“I know this ya house, but I could’ve been naked.” Jon shrugged and plopped his body down on the bed.

“You ready for tonight? I can’t believe she actually agreed to go out with you.” Josh sucked his teeth and glared over at his twin.

“What the hell that's supposed to mean?”

“You ugly as fuck uce” Jon laughed then held his hand up, trying to shield his face and body from Josh’s hits. “Aight, Aight Damn.”

“If I'm ugly, you ugly. We twins jackass.”

“I hope you got my girl some roses.” Trin said as she came into the room and sat on the bed next to Jon. Josh nodded and scrubbed his hand over his face. If there was an emotion beyond nervousness, that's what he was. Trinity noticed and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“This gon be my first- first date since high school man, The last time I was this nervous was with the boy’s mom.” Jon and Trinity winced at the fact he wouldn’t say his ex-wife’s name. “And I was fifteen, i’m thirty-fucking five, why am I so nervous?”

“Cause you like her uce. And technically yall already went on y’alls first date.” Trinity nodded her head in agreement. “Just be yourself man, she gon fall in love with you.”

Airielle looked at the clock and cursed. Josh was supposed to be at her place in 30 minutes and she still didn’t decide which dress to wear. She let out a sigh of relief when Yasmine came into her room holding her IPad, on facetime with their other cousin Ashley.

“As the family fashion expert. We need your help.” Yasmine flipped the camera and showed Ashley all of the dress, shoes and jewelry options they had.

“Bitch are those my earrings!” Yasmine rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth.

“Focus Ashley-”

“I’ve been looking for them everywhere hoe!” Airielle giggled and took the IPAD from Yasmine, turning the camera to herself.

“I need your opinion Ash, I’m stuck.” Ashley rolled her eyes and nodded.

“Fine,” She muttered. “Show me again.”

AIRIELLEJONES

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Yasmine had just finished curling the last piece of Airielle’s hair when there was a knock at the front door. Airielle felt like she had to throw up. She was about to run into the bathroom when Yasmine stopped her and pushed her towards the door.

“No running. Go enjoy yourself.” Airielle nodded and took a deep breath before opening the door.

“Damn,” Josh said lowly, licking his lips as he shamelessly raked his eyes over her body. “I mean,” he cleared his throat. “You look beautiful.” He felt his cheeks heat up as he passed her the bouquet of white, red and pink roses.

Airielle took them. “These are so pretty.” She said as she lifted them to her nose to smell them.

“I mean, beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman.” They both stared at each other before bursting out into laughter.

“That was so corny,” She said as she shut her apartment door and started walking towards the elevator. He chuckled as he followed her.

“Yeah aint gon’ lie. That wasn’t my best work.”

Josh had just pulled up in front of the restaurant and Airielle was about to get out of the car when Josh stopped her.

“Whoa, whatchu’ doin?” Airielle froze with one of her hands on the handle of the car door. She turned her head and frowned at him. “Opening the door?” She said as more of question and Josh chuckled.

“Nah, don’t touch that.” He said getting out and rushing over so he could open the door for her. “I got you.” He said as he held out his hand for her to grab. She rolled her eyes with a smile and grabbed his hand, letting him help her out of the car. She smiled wider when he didn’t let go of her hand as they started walking towards the restaurant. He only let go of her hand to hand the valet his keys and a twenty dollar tip.

“Wow, this place is nice.” She said as the host led them to their table. She smiled at Josh as he pulled out her chair for her.

“Yeah, Jon recommended it. Said he takes Trin here all the time.” They sat there in silence. Glancing at each other over their menus, sending secret smiles to each other.

“So i’ve been told.”Airielle started off, breaking the silence between them. “We technically already had our first date.” Josh nodded with a chuckle.

“I mean, technically yeah. So what this’ll be our.” He stopped to count on his fingers making her scoff. “Third date.”

“You did not just count to three on your fingers.” He shrugged with a laugh as the waiter came over to take their orders. Once he walked away Airielle turned her attention back to Josh. “Ok, so tell me something about you that I don’t know.”

“Damn,” Josh said as he blew out a breath of air. “I can play the piano.”

“Oh wow foreal?” She asked, eyebrows raised in shock and he nodded.

“Yeah, me and my brothers. My momma kept us busy so we weren’t tearing up her house. It was so much shit she put us in man, uh- karate, soccer, baseball. Man, any sport that you could think of my mom had me and my brothers there. No your turn.”

She placed her chin on her palm and smiled at him. “I used to dance and cheer competitively. My parents' garage is literally full of medals and trophies.”

She narrowed her eyes at him when he started to smirk. “That’s kinda hot.”

“I was a kid Josh.” She chuckled and threw a piece of her dinner roll at him when he shrugged.

The rest of their date went amazing. They never ran out of stuff to talk about. They didn’t even realize they were the last two people in the restaurant until the waiter came over to tell them.

On the ride back to her apartment, they stopped to grab some ice cream. Neither one of them wanted the night to end. After he parked in her complex’s garage they walked slowly to her apartment, holding hands.

“This was like the best date I've ever been on.” She said, turning towards him as they stopped in front of her door. Her statement made him feel good.

“Yeah? Me too.” He said with a wide smile. Airielle was about to turn to walk into her apartment when Josh stopped her by grabbing her hand.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked and Airielle nodded immediately. She honestly thought she would have to make the first move. He grinned before pulling her closer to him and wrapping his arms around her waist. He hesitated before leaning head forward and capturing her lips in a soft, tender kiss. They stood there, lost in eachother only breaking apart at the sound of a loud squeal and a loud clanging sound, like something had dropped coming from inside Airielle’s apartment.

“Sorry.” They both chuckled at Yasmine’s muffled voice. He gave her another kiss before telling her that he would text her when he got home. After he walked away, Yasmine ripped open the door and yanked Airielle inside.

“Bitch tell me everything.”

Happy Thanksgiving (if you celebrate it.)

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

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milesdickpic · 11 months

Text

His Little Girl | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader P. 75

Click here to see the master list

Hey babes. We are back with another chapter! I hope you are all doing well and are enjoying the story! Thank you for all the feedback and love! I love you all so much! 💕 Happy reading and enjoy! ❤️

A/n: You have your ultrasound to see the boys. There's a lot that goes on in this chapter, but the best is yet to come! 🫶🏼

Word Count: 3.8k (I think. I've added so much to it while editing lol)

Warnings: cursing, mentions injuries, blood, crying, but so much DAMN love (sorry if I make you cry.)

Please don't take my work, I will find you.

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

(I always forget where I save these pictures from. Forgive me. 💀)

Today, you were finally going to the OB/GYN to see your boys. Phoenix was due back to work today. She and Phantom were working on improvements for the flying arrangements. Hangman was away on the boat. Mav stayed with Bradley at the hospital. Evelyn had the girls over at her house. You and Austin were on your way to your ultrasound.

“I’m getting a case of deja vu, darlin.” Austin laughed as he parked Hangman’s truck into a parking stall. He looked over at you and smiled, “You ready for this?” He rubbed your belly.

You smiled, “Let’s do this.”

Austin came around to your side and opened your door. He helped you down and into the office. He took your ID and checked you in at the front desk. He came back and plopped down next to you. “I’m really excited to see how much they’ve grown since I first saw them.”

You chuckled, “I can just feel how big they are. My back and tired swollen feet remind me everyday.” You leaned back in the chair and rubbed your belly.

“If they take after the Lieutenant. They’ll definitely be some big boys.” He chuckled.

“Lieutenant Commander.” You raised your brows to Austin.

He looked at you shocked. “No way. Bradley promoted!?” He placed his fingers over his open mouth.

You nodded, “Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw.”

“Wow! Did he tell Maverick?”

You shook your head, “No he hasn’t. The day after he was promoted he was back on the boat.”

He nodded his head, “Hmm, well I know that Maverick is going to be so proud of him.” He smiled at you and nudged your shoulder.

The nurse called you and Austin back. Austin helped you onto the bed. You lifted Bradley’s sweater up and over your belly. You caught how big Austin’s eyes got. You chuckled and he looked at you. “I am an advertisement blimp now, Aus.”

He shook his head, “God, you are right. They have grown so much.” He rested his hand by your head and laid the other on your arm.

You grabbed Austin’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Ready to see the boys again?” You gave him an excited smile. He nodded and looked back to the monitor. The doctor squirted some of the jelly onto your belly. They took the transducer and started to rub it around. The boys appeared quickly onto the screen.

Austin gasped, “Oh my gosh, darlin. They’re huge! Look at them!” He cover his mouth as his eyes went wide.

“They look like they are on track. I believe your boys will be ready to come out of the oven soon.” The doctor smiled at you. “Did you and Lieutenant Bradshaw pick a date yet?”

“Lieutenant Commander.” Austin winked at you and chucked.

The doctor laughed, “My apologies Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. Did you and him pick a date yet to possibly be induced?”

You bit your lip and look up at Austin. You shook your head, “No we haven’t. He’s been in the hospital.”

The doctor looked at you sadly, “I am sorry to hear that Mrs. Bradshaw. Well we still have some time. I want to see you every two weeks as time is getting closer and closer. So you and Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, can discuss dates.” They went back to scanning your belly. They measured the twins and snapped a couple of pictures. “Are there any questions you have?” The shot you a smile as they started to clean you up.

“Is there anything I should start doing different? To prepare myself for the boys?”

The doctor laughed, “Get as much sleep as possible. You’re going to miss it.” You and Austin started to laugh, “In all seriousness, just take it easy. I know you can feel that it is getting harder to do things. So don’t push yourself.” They finished cleaning you up and handed you and Austin the pictures. “Enjoy the rest of your day! I send my well wishes to the new LCDR.” They waved goodbye to you and Austin.

You pulled your shirt back down and Austin held your hands to help you up. You felt like you were out of breath, “Oh my gosh. That doesn’t get easier at all.” You started to laugh as Austin helped you down from the bed.

“Now let’s go see your husband, darlin. I know he will want these new pictures of the boys there with him.” Austin winked at you and helped you to the car.

-------

The end of the week finally rolled in. Today was the day that the doctors were going to start weaning Bradley off of the sedation medication. You were excited to see his beautiful eyes. You knew it would probably take a day or two before you saw him and heard his voice, but you were more than ready to kiss his lips over and over again. You just prayed he wasn’t in too much pain.

Mav was at the house getting things set up for Bradley. You sat in the room alone with him. You held his hand and rubbed your thumb over his hand.

“Hi, baby. They started to wean you off the medication. We will see each other soon. I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” You kissed his hand. His thumb twitched against your hand. “There you go, baby.” You brought your lips to his ear, “Come back to me, my love.” You kissed his temple gently before you sat back down. “We brought you pictures of the boys. I had my appointment last week. They’re so big now. They definitely take after you.” You smiled and placed the back of his hand to your lips. “I can’t wait to have you back, honey. I can’t wait to kiss you over and over again. To hear your voice.” You smiled goofily at him. His eyes were still closed. He was still hooked up to everything to monitor him as he rests.

“I love you, Bradley, Always.”

-------

A couple of more days rolled around and you were home. You spent a lot of your time at the hospital with Bradley as he slowly started to come out of his sedative state. But he hadn't opened his eyes or anything yet. You were getting worried because the doctors at most, two days after, he would at least open his eyes.

today, you were packing a bag for Bradley. You packed him some comfortable clothes he could change into. You packed all his toiletries you knew he’d want. Leia came into the room and laid on your back as you packed Bradley’s bag.

“Momma, do I get to come with you today to see daddy?” She nestled her face into your back.

You reached your hand back and scratched her head, “You do baby. You’ll get to see your daddy today.”

Leia hugged you, “Finally! I miss him so much, momma. Do you think he will wake up from his nap today?” Leia started to rub your back.

You laid your head back onto hers. “I hope so, baby. I miss your daddy too.”

Leia kissed your back and came around to the front of you. “Can I help you pack daddy’s stuff?”

You caressed Leia’s cheek. “Of course, you can, baby. How about you go and get something you know your daddy would want and put it in here?” You kissed her cheek.

She sprang up, “I know exactly what daddy would want!” She ran out of the closet.

You chuckled and continued to fold clothes and place them into the bag. Leia came running back into the room. Before you looked up to see her she was dropping at least 10 uncrustables into Bradley’s duffle. You stopped placing clothes into his bag. You started to laugh and looked up at Leia. You picked up an uncrustable and held it up to Leia.

“PB&Js baby?” You raised your brows and began to laugh.

She nodded, “Yes, momma! I know daddy will be super hungry and what is better than a PB&J!? Our favorite snack!” She smiled and picked one up. “I actually want one of these right now.” She ripped one open. “I’ll be back momma! I’m gonna go put it in the toaster!” She started to skip out of the room.

“Please make sure you ask your Papa Mav or Austin to help you with the toaster!” You chuckled and took the PB&Js out of the bag. You stacked them next to the duffle as you continued to pack clothes.

When you finished, you brought all the sandwiches down stairs to put into a lunch bag to take with you. Leia was propped up on the counter sharing her PB&J with Austin.

“Hey! That bite was WAY too big, Austin!” Leia frowned at Austin and placed her forehead to his. She started to growl at him and Austin chuckled and did it back. Then he started to tickle her as he snuck another big bite out of her uncrustable. “AUSTIN!”

Austin laughed as Leia was clearly annoyed with him. Mav saw you coming down the stairs with Bradley’s duffle. “Here, sweetheart. Let me help you.” He smiled and grabbed the heavy bag from your grasp. You made it downstairs and placed all the sandwiches on the counter. You went into the pantry to grab an insulated lunch bag. You started to pack all the sandwiches into the bag.

“That’s quite a bit of PB&Js, darlin.” Austin chuckled as he let Leia down from the counter.

“They’re for daddy, Austin! I know he’ll be hungry!” Leia smiled at Austin.

Austin knelt down to her and cupped her cheeks. He pulled her in and kissed her forehead, “Gosh, you are so smart, Leia Rey.” He smiled. “Well, we should get goin. Let’s go and let Phantom go home to get some sleep."

Austin grabbed the duffle from Mav and grabbed Leia’s hand. He brought them out to the car. You gave Mav a kiss on the cheek before you left.

“I’ll be there in a bit, sweetheart! Just going to get cleaned up. I’ll be there within the hour.”

When you, Austin, and Leia arrived at the hospital Austin grabbed the duffle and lunch bag. You let Leia down from her booster seat and held her hand. When you got into the hospital you all headed over to Bradley’s room. Phantom was laying on the couch by the window sill. You went over and patted his shoulder.

“Hey we are here, how was he?” Phantom got up and smiled.

“He did great last night. We got a little more movement from him.” He stood up and stretched. “Who is here with you?”

“I have Austin and Leia with me today.” You smiled.

“Little Vapor is here?” He raised his brows to you.

You nodded, “I felt it was a good time for her to finally come in and see him. He’s doing so much better.”

“Where are they?” He looked around for Austin and Leia.

“They’re in the family waiting room. I told Austin to keep her there until Mav could get here. We are going to clean up and change Brad before she comes in and sees him.”

He nodded and gave you a hug. “If you girls need anything. I’m just a phone call away.” He kissed your temple. “If anything changes with him, please give me a call.”

You smiled at Phantom and nodded. “I will, thank you.”

When Phantom left, you sat next to Bradley. You held his hand in yours. “Hi baby, I’m back.” You kissed the back of his hand. “If you can hear me, Bradley… Can you squeeze my hand, baby?” You stayed still as you waited for the slightest movement. You felt his fingers slightly curl to your hand and you smiled. “There you go, baby. There you go, Bradley. I’m here, honey. I love you so much. You are doing so good. I am so proud of you, Bradley.” You rubbed his hand and arm, “Our little Leia is here to finally see you baby. She’s so excited to finally see you. She’s missed you so much.” You rubbed your hand over his scruffy face. “She’s been so strong. She definitely gets that from you.” You felt his hand twitch in yours.

You stood up and leaned over the bed railing and kissed his cheek. His prickly hair poking your lips. “Mav is going to come and help me clean you up and get you changed. Get you out of these endless hospital gowns.” You laughed, “How does that sound, honey?” You noticed he was trying to smile as the apple of his cheek bones balled up. You gasped and started to laugh, “I’ll take that as a yes please.”

His eyes started to flutter. You were noticing the white of his eyes starting to show. You stood up, “You got it, Bradley. You got it, honey. Just keep trying. You’re doing so good.” You held his hand tight in yours and caressed his cheek with your other hand, “Good job, my baby. You are doing so good.” You started to cry happy tears.

Mav finally came into the room. “Y/n, I’m here sweetheart.”

You waved him over, “Mav hurry come over.” He jogged over with a smile on his face. “Look, Mav. He’s trying.”

Mav chuckled, “There you go, Brad.” He rubbed his arm. “You got it, son. There you go.”

Bradley’s eyes opened slightly. He blinked a couple of times and looked at you. His eyes lit up. You could see that he was trying to smile. You started to tear up, “Oh my god, Bradley.” You cupped his face. He still had the tube in his mouth. You and Mav started to cry as he looked at the both of you. “My baby.” You whispered to him.

He shakily brought his hand up to your cheek. You grabbed it with both hands and placed it on your cheek, he caressed his thumb over it. You held his hand hard to your cheek and kissed his palm. “God, I love you so much, Bradley. I love you so fucking much, baby.” You kissed his palm over and over again. Your body became overjoyed with happiness, you felt like you were floating away on a cloud. Here he was, your husband, he was finally back. Your Bradley was home.

You went to go and grab a nurse. They came into the room and greeted Bradley. “Hello, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw! Welcome back! I’m so happy to see you back. How are you feeling pain-wise, sir?” The nurse came around to chest his vitals. Bradley flashed him a weak and shakey thumbs up. “That’s great! Okay now take a deep breath alright? I’m going to take the ventilator out from you. You’ll feel a lot of pressure in your neck. That’s just the tube coming up, okay?” Bradley nodded slowly and slightly as he closed his eyes to signal he agreed.

The nurse turned off the ventilator and came over to Bradley. “Breathing feel alright?” Bradley closed his eyes to signal yes. “Okay, sir. Get ready when I say 3 take a deep breath in.” Bradley closed his eyes again.

Mav wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You held onto him tightly and excited.

The nurse started to unsnap the mechanism that was around Bradley's mouth. He removed it and all that was left was the tube. “Okay, Lieutenant Commander. On three, deep breath, let’s get this thing out of you. One, Two, Three.” Bradley took a deep weezy breath and the nurse started to pull the tube from him. Bradley started to gag and cough as it came up. His eyes tore up as he choked slightly. The tube finally all came out and had some blood on it. Bradley gasped for air and started to cough dryly. He winced at the pain he was feeling in his torso. He held onto his chest as he coughed.

“I’ll go and get you some medication for the pain, sir.” Bradley closed his eyes tight and raised his brows as he continued to cough.

When the nurse left the room you bee lined for Bradley. You grabbed his face and kissed his lips over and over again. He started to laugh through his cough. You didn’t care that his lips were super dry. You just wanted to feel his lips against yours. You never thought you would get this chance again.

When you finally broke away from his lips. Bradley gasped and wheezed for air as he gave you a little smile. You looked into his eyes and they looked so relaxed. You knew he was finally happy to see you. Bradley gestured for some water. You grabbed a water bottle from his bedside table. You held it to his lips and he began to drink it slowly. He nearly drank the whole bottle before he nodded at you that he was done.

He swallowed the water that was in his mouth. He smiled and looked up at you. “Hi, sweetheart.” His voice was so soft and really raspy. He smiled up at you.

You smiled and shook your head. Of course, this man was going to greet you. Even if he could barely breathe. You started to cry, “Hi, baby." You placed your hands on his cheeks, “Hi, my baby. Hi.”

Mav came over and kissed Bradley on his forehead. Bradley looked over at Mav with wide eyes. “Holy shit, You’re here. You're actually here.” He chuckled softly and grabbed onto Mav’s hand. He kept looking at him with big eyes and disbelief that his uncle was standing here in front of him.

Mav started to laugh, “I’m here, Bradley. I’m here. It’s good to finally see you. I’ve been waiting a long time for you to finally open your eyes and hear your voice.” Mav held Bradley’s hand close to his heart. “I love you so much, Bradley.” He started to cry.

Bradley smiled and a small tear fell from his eye, “I love you, Mav.” His voice was super hoarse and shaky.

He looked back over to you. “I missed you, sweetheart. I heard you talking to me everyday. Thank you so much, baby. You were my motivation to keep pushing.” He smiled at you.

You kissed him over and over again. “I love you, Bradley Bradshaw, always.

“And I love you, y/n Bradshaw, forever.”

You and Mav kept Bradley waking up a little secret from Austin and Leia. You wanted to surprise them when they came into the room. You and Mav started to clean up Bradley. You were being gentle with him because he was still in pain. The nurse said that the medication he gave him would kick in shortly. You washed Bradley’s face and brushed his teeth. You applied moisturizer and exfoliated his lips. You applied some lips balm to his lips and they were soft and smooth again. You washed his hair gently and fixed it for him. His curls were really defined. Mac gave Bradley’s body a sponge bath. He cleaned him up pretty well. You helped Bradley change into some sweats from home. After he was cleaned up and clothed, the nurses came in to change his bedding before he got comfortable in bed.

Bradley’s voice was very soft and raspy from not talking for nearly a month. “Thank you both, I feel so much better.” Bradley took a deep breath and winced slightly at his pain. You kissed his lips and smiled. “Are you ready to see your little girl?”

Bradley’s eyes went wide and he nodded his head. “I can’t wait to give her a kiss,” he grunted and held his chest. You and Mav looked at Bradley concerned knowing he was in great amounts of pain.

"You all right, Bradley?" Mav came over and rubbed his arm gently.

Bradley breathed in and you could hear the crackling and wheezing coming from his chest. He nodded and gave him a weak smile. "I'll be okay."

Mav nodded and looked up at you. You looked back at him and at Bradley. "I'll be back, okay?"

------

You went to the Family waiting room to go and get Austin and Leia. He was sitting with her on a couch and reading a book to her as she cuddled into his side with her teddy. You opened the door slowly and smiled. “Are you both ready to see him? We just finished getting him ready.”

Austin nudged Leia, “You ready to see your daddy, Leia girl?”

She nodded fast, “Yes! I can’t wait to give him a kiss!” She jumped down from the couch and came over to grab your hand. When you reached Bradley’s room you looked down at Leia. You cupped her cheek as she smiled up at you.

“I just want to warn you, baby. Daddy is hooked up to a couple of things to help monitor him. Daddy had a couple of bumps and bruises. He’s also a little fragile right now, so we have to be very gentle, okay?”

She nodded, “I understand, momma.” You looked at Austin and smiled. “Ready?” He nodded to you.

“Here we go, Vapor girl.” You held your hand out to Leia and she grabbed it. In her other arm she hugged her teddy tight. She took a deep breath as you opened the door. The three of you walked in and you opened the curtain.

Austin placed his hands on Leia’s shoulders. You all three walked in, Mav was sitting at Bradley’s bed side rubbing his arm.

Leia looked at him and Bradley turned his head slowly to see her. His eyes went soft and he smirked at her.

“Hi, my Leia Rey.” His voice was soft.

Leia started to tear up. She held onto her teddy tighter. “Daddy…?” Her breath quickened.

Bradley slowly waved her over. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Leia started sobbing, “DADDY!” She ran for Bradley.

Austin placed his hand on your shoulder when he saw Bradley awake. He looked at you with wide eyes and pulled you in for a hug. “Oh my… Darlin! He’s awake! And talking!” You looked up at Austin and teared up. He kissed your forehead and walked over to Bradley.

Leia was clinging onto her dad’s hand. “Daddy, I missed you so much! I knew you would be okay!”

Bradley brought his hand to Leia’s cheek, “I’m not going anywhere, my Leia babe. Daddy is here.” He looked at her so lovingly, the same gaze he had on her when he first saw her. He caressed her cheek and fell relaxed in her hands. Leia held onto her dad's hand tight against her cheek.

Austin came to Bradley and Bradley gave him a shaky fist pump. “Heyyy. Aus! You’re here.” Bradley chuckled.

“I’m so happy I am.” Austin started to tear up as he saw Bradley.

“Where is your girl?” Bradley sounded concern for Phoenix.

“I’m going to call her up. She has to come and see you. She’s at work right now.” Austin placed his hand on Bradley’s shoulder. “It’s great to see you up, man.”

Bradley nodded, “It’s great to be here, man.” They shook hands and Leia snatched her daddy’s hand from Austin.

Leia placed kisses all over Bradley hand. “I love you so much, daddy.” She cuddled into Bradley’s hand.

“I love you, Leia Rey, forever.”

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

There was a lot of skipping around in this chapter, but I hope you all loved it! I am so excited to see that Bradley is up! I just wanna cover this man in KISSES. Thank you for being here, besties! I'll see you all in the next chapter! 🫶🏼

My support group is in the comments ❤️

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sainzfilm · 1 year

Note

another request… a mclaren girl who was brought to the team by danny x carlos sainz!!!!!!!!!!

pairing: carlos sainz x mclaren pr!reader

a/n: sometimes i just wish i could work in the f1 world. and by sometimes i mean all the time <3 i hope you like this bb! 💝

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

“And for the first time in Formula 1, Carlos Sainz is victorious, he wins the British Grand Prix!”

Chills went all over your body as you cheered for Carlos’ first victory in his career. He finally fucking did it.

Making your way through the crowd, you stood near the barricade as Carlos took the podium, looking proud of his achievement. Despite being in a sea of people, he smiled at you and sent you a wink, which caused you to blush.

As you walked back to find Daniel to accompany him for his post-race interviews, Carlos followed shortly after and couldn’t help but look at you as you stood beside his friend. Butterflies erupting in his stomach– how could you stand amongst people and still be the most beautiful woman ever?

When Daniel finished his interview, you gave him a quick hug and congratulated him for his efforts on the race, “Good job, Daniel, today was tough.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” He smiled as he patted your back, “Looks like a certain someone wants your attention.”

Turning around with a frown that was immediately replaced with the biggest smile when you spotted a smiling Carlos, you walked towards him and gave him a hug, “I’m so proud of you! Congratulations, smooth operator.”

“Thank you, cariño,” He grinned as he hugged you back, “It feels crazy. I don’t know how I did it!”

“I always knew you could do it,” You smiled as you patted his shoulder gently, “Carlos Sainz, winner of the British Grand Prix. First of many, huh?”

“I could only hope,” He smiled as he put his hand on your back while walking out the paddock, “I really missed you, you know? Feels like I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I miss you too,” You sighed as you put your hands in your pockets, “I’ve been thinking about leaving though.”

“Leaving? What do you mean?”

“McLaren. I like my job, but Daniel’s leaving next year,” You frowned as you rambled, “I just- I don’t know. Lando’s got his own PR, so where do I go?”

Carlos stopped walking, turning to you and putting his hands on your shoulders, “To me, cariño.”

“Yeah, obviously, you’re my friend. I really appreciate the support.”

“No, not like that,” He chuckled as he smiled at you, a sparkle in his eye, “Come be my PR. Mine’s about to take off next season for God knows what reason. It’s perfect timing.

“You’re not kidding me, right?”

“Ay, of course not,” He replied while clicking his tongue, “You know how much I missed having you around. Besides, if you were with me so often, I think I could win more.”

Rolling your eyes and shaking your head, “You know you don’t have to sugarcoat just so I could take the position.”

“I’m not!” Carlos frowned as he crossed his arms like a kid, “I’m telling the truth.”

Before you could respond, Lando runs up to the two of you and puts his arms around your shoulders and Carlos’, “Hey, hey! What’s up with my two friends?”

“Nothing, just persuading Y/N to come to Ferrari as my PR next year,” Carlos groaned as he stood up straighter.

“What?!” Lando exclaimed as he took his arms away and stood in front of the two of you, “No! She’s a McLaren girl through and through!”

“Please, mate,” Carlos snickered as he shook his head, “Red suits her so much better!”

“You’re wrong,” Lando frowned as he crossed his arms, “She’s gonna be my PR.”

“In your dreams, Lando.”

“Oh god, will the two of you stop it?” You laughed as you brushed your hair back with your fingers, “I’ll go wherever my heart decides for the next season. Okay?”

The two boys grumbled an agreement and nodded before Lando bid his farewell to catch up to George, who passed by.

“So,” Carlos trailed off as he smiled sheepishly, “Can I win your heart?”

Damn it, Carlos. Always so vague with his statements.

“Maybe, red would suit me,” You shrugged as you crossed your arms, “Who knows?”

“Mhm, red would definitely suit you,” Carlos smirked as he took his jacket off and placed it around your shoulders, “See?”

You couldn’t fight the blush that spread on your cheeks as you took in a deep breath of his cologne, “I guess it does.”

“You know what else would suit you?”

Frowning in confusion, you tilted your head and looked at Carlos, “What?”

Carlos smiled as he tapped your nose, “Me.”

bonus scene!

“God, mate, do you always have to be this cheesy?” Charles groaned as he entered Carlos’ driver’s room, “Can’t believe it took you so long to make a move.”

“Ay, shut up, cabrón,” Carlos frowned as he playfully pinched his teammate’s hip quickly before going back to decorating, “It’s her first day here and I want to make sure my girl gets the best welcome.”

Charles laughed as he shook his head, “I’m happy for the two of you, though. New beginnings in both your lives.”

“Hey Car- oh, sorry to interrupt,” You froze in your spot as you held onto your clipboard, “What is all this?”

Carlos and Charles looked at you wide-eyed and smiled awkwardly before throwing confetti over you, “Welcome to Ferrari!”

856 notes · View notes

maesphantoms · 1 year

Text

Breathless (Simon 'Ghost' Riley, John 'Soap' MacTavish, GN! Reader Plationic)

Warnings: Takes place during the mission 'Alone', talks of blood, injury, and death. Gunshots and knives. Medical and military inaccuracy.

Genre: Angst/Whump

Word Count: 5,511

I basically got up gameplay of this mission and ran through it so there is a lot of dialogue from the actual mission. Feel free to ignore this if that isn't your cup of tea :D I had an idea going into this, but very quickly lost it haha I'm not very proud of it, but hey I'm rusty so what can I expect?

Not proofread

For once in what feels like forever, Soap was finally quiet. You were sat next to him while Ghost followed Graves back to Alejandro’s base and as much as you loved the Scottish bastard, he just kept talking and teasing you. About a shot you missed or height or anything else he could think of. You could tell that it was getting on Alejandro’s nerves too, but he was far too nice to say anything to him. As for Ghost, you could tell he had checked Soap out long ago. Whenever you tried to catch his eyes in the rear view mirror you could see that he was far away in his mind, distracted by something in his head. You’ll have to ask him what it is once you’re all settled for the night.

Ah….I can’t wait to shower… You thought to yourself. It had, after all been a very tiring day. It’s not everyday that you get to blow up an oil rig. Especially one with a missile. Admittedly, yes, Soap and Graves did all the work in the ACTUAL blowing up of the thing, but hey, you and Ghost did a damn good job being a part of the team.

“Johnny…?” You heard Ghost finally speak, the first time since you all got back into the truck.

Raising your eyes back up the rear view mirror, you could see him trying to look at Soap but you could only see his eyes from the reflections from the headlights bouncing off the trucks in front of us. You glanced over at Soap to see him nodding off. Elbowing his side, you pointed to Ghost once Soap looked at you.

“You say something, L.T.?” Soap cleared his throat.

“Making sure you’re still breathing is all. I don’t have a good feeling..” The Lieutenant muttered the last part under his breath.

As if on cue, the truck in front of you pulled to a stop right outside the gates of Alejandro’s base. You all shared a look and began to get out. Graves hopped out of his own truck as some of his men began to walk towards him. Your stomach began to feel like it was filled with lead as you walked around the side of the truck to stand next to Ghost, Soap and Alejandro on the other side.

“What’s this?” Alejandro asked Graves, pointing to the men standing by the gate.

“This is the immediate future. Step away from the gate.” Graves responded, walking towards Alejandro.

Ghost glanced behind you as you heard the footsteps of someone walking up behind you. Your hand slowly inched towards your knife. This was going to be bad. You glanced at Ghost and both almost imperceptibly nodded.

“What?” Soap’s voice cut through the air. You may have wanted him to shut up in the truck, but you were happy he was talking now.

“You heard me.”

“You’re crazy, this is my base.” Alejandro motioned towards the base.

“It’s not a base. This is a sizable covert facility…and I admire it. So, I’m taking it.” Your hand closed on your knife, the other one forming a fist. This was going to be really bad. “You boys…and Owl.. have been relieved. Thank you for your service.”

“No, no, no. I don’t take orders from you.” You could feel the anger coming off Alejandro and Ghost in waves. Oh fuck, this is going to be really really bad.

You began to formulate a plan in your head. There was one man behind you and one man beside Ghost. Then from where you could see, two behind Graves. Out of your peripheral, you could see one behind Soap. You’ve seen how many men Graves could have with him so you couldn’t count on these being the only ones here. You couldn’t see on the other side of Graves’ truck and there could be more behind him. If you took the one behind you, Ghost the one beside him, you could get the ones behind Graves while Alejandro got him and Soap with the one behind him.

This plan could not work as the others don’t seem focused on the men as you. Except for Ghost, but you two were basically two sides to the same coin. You could communicate with just your eyes. A truly terrifying duo to be up against. As if he heard you, Ghost’s fists tightened and he followed suit in slowly reaching for his knife.

“What the fuck did you just say to me, pendejo…?” Alejandro began walking towards Graves, but Soap put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him,

“You’re out of line, Graves.”

“Don’t do that,” Graves stepped back and pointed a finger at Soap. Every muscle in your body was tense. “Don’t….do that. No one needs to get hurt here.”

“Are you threatening us?” Ghost’s voice slightly made you jump as he took half a step closer to you.

“Soldier, I don’t make threats. I make guarantees. So let’s not do this.” The cogs in your head were spinning at a rapid pace. Where are the weak spots in their armor? What happens if the other two don’t move as fast as you and Ghost? What if someone gets shot? Does Graves have more men posted where they can’t see?

“I’m calling Shepard.” Soap said, eerily calm, before turning around and beginning to walk towards the truck.

“General Shepard sends his regards.” Your veins turn to ice. Of course. Of fucking course. “He told me y’all wouldn’t take this well.”

“He knows about this?” Ghost sounded incredulous. All the pieces began to fall into place for you. You glared at Graves, you were going to skin the blonde bastard.

“He’s put me in command of this operation from here on out. So y’all need to stand down. It’s time for the pros to finish this.” Soap turned and made eye contact with you and Ghost. “And why the hell are we talking like this is some kind of negotiation? It’s NOT. I’ve got my orders and now you have yours.” Oh, you’re turning the skinny bastard into your toothpick.

“And who the fuck do you think you are, cabrón? My men are inside!” Alejandro yelled. The man behind you took a couple steps forward. You began to see red and your hands began to shake.

“I’m afraid not. Your men have been….” Graves sucks on his teeth, “Detained.” Alejandro lurches forward and gets thrown against the truck out of view. Fuck! You have to come up with a new plan….and fast.

“Graves, what the fuck?!” You yell.

Gunshots. No time to formulate a new plan. You lunge back and elbow the man behind you in the gut then stab him in his eye. Ghost shoves the man in front of him to the truck and sinks his knife in his neck as you hear Alejandro struggling. You can barely see Soap through the window holding a Shadow by the neck and shooting at Graves. Ghost pulls you to a kneel and you inch along the truck as Soap groans and falls on his back. The gunshots stop.

“Go Johnny, get out of there! Soap! Go!” Ghost yells beside you. You look over and see Soap get up and jump over the concrete barrier, the Shadows shooting after him.

“Your turn, Ghost. Go.” You whisper to him under the gunshots, pulling out your pistol.

“What?” He turns and looks at you.

“There’s not enough time. Go or I’ll kill you myself.” You push his shoulder and his eyes harden.

“You better come out of this alive, Owl.”

“That’s the idea, Lieutenant.” You smile as he runs off into the darkness just as the gunshots stop.

“You there, Ghost? Owl? That was a big mistake, folks. It did not have to be like this.” You heard Graves walking around the side of the truck so you made your way to the front, trying to find Alejandro. Fuck, he’s gone. “Son of a bitch… find em!” Graves yelled.

How the fuck were you going to get out of this situation now? You needed to distract them a little longer. You needed to find out where Alejandro is. Time to wing it.

“Graves! You fucked up big time, brother!” You yelled, watching the feet under the truck run to where you were. Just able to squeeze under it, you quietly and quickly moved to the middle then backed up until you could crawl under the one behind you. “I’m gonna enjoy making a rug of your scrawny ass.” You cackled.

“Owl…we will find you. And the two British idiots.” He mused. You continued to move around and under the trucks where they couldn’t see you. This was too easy.

“Oh, no you won’t. But we’ll find you. And you won’t see us until my knife is in your throat, pretty boy.”

You climbed on top of the truck that Graves was originally in. Grabbing a grenade of one of the dead Shadows on the way up, you whistled and as they all turned, saluted them before throwing it. Graves managed to shoot a bullet at you before running away and it found its place…somewhere around your collarbone. You bit back a screen as you ran off while it exploded. Gunshots and shouts following you.

Once you were sure you lost them in the woods, you began to head towards the town as that’s where you saw Soap run. You just had to hope Ghost headed the same way and neither idiot had gotten themselves killed. Every small action brought incredible amounts of pain to you, but the internal mission to find the boys overrode everything. That’s not to say you didn’t feel the pain, because you definitely did. In every single breath, every single step. You didn’t dare move your right arm.

As the street lights started to wash over you, you dipped into an open shop and sat down to catch your breath behind the counter. You could hear distant screaming and gunshots and had to hope it wasn’t Ghost and Soap. Bringing your left arm over your radio ripped a scream from your throat that you tried your hardest to keep quiet and you flicked through the radio channels. It was filled with random Shadow chatter. You kept flicking until you came across a familiar voice.

“-iper position in the church tower. Find your way there, and you might just make it. Then we can look for Owl.” You’ve never been so happy to hear the grumpy bastard’s voice.

“No need, Lieutenant. I’m here.”

“Owl!” Soap exclaimed.

“You injured, Owl?”

“Aww, look at you, Ghost. All concerned.” You teased, laying your head back against the counter. You needed to move. And soon.

“Answer the question, sergeant.”

“I caught a bullet to the collarbone. Luckily, it didn’t hit an artery.. Would’ve bled out a while back in that case. I guess that’s what I get for giving Graves a grenade…even if the slimy bastard was able to run from it. Are either of you?”

“Hold on, your collarbone?!” Soap exclaimed.

“Very exciting, I know.”

“Are you alright?”

“Other than the potential to be bleeding into my chest cavity? Oh, I’m swell. Shall we go out for some drinks after all this?”

“Enough. Owl, get yourself to the church. I’ve set up a sniper point there and Johnny is on his way here. Where are you?” Ghost’s voice sounded tense.

“Umm…that’s a hard question. It’s some shop. I’m behind the counter right now.”

“Get a move on, and be careful. There’s Shadows everywhere.”

“Church….right.” You said, mostly to yourself. You closed your eyes and bit your lip, you pulled yourself to your feet. Even though you could now taste blood as you bit into your lip, you managed to keep quiet.

“Are you able to bandage yourself, Owl? Is it still in you?”

“No exit wound.”

The comms then went silent. Checking your gun, you counted how many bullets you had. Once you got yourself ready, you put your left hand over the bleeding hole and began to walk out the door. You could barely see the towers of the church over the other buildings. The screams and gunshots still far enough away that you felt comfortable running towards the gleaming building.

As you rounded a corner, you could see the carnage left in the wake of the Shadows. Blood and bodies filled the streets as the rain began to wash it all away. Not fast enough. Shaking your head, you attempted to focus on the mission at hand. You would get Graves for this, it didn’t matter if you had to to die as well.

“Graves is rounding up cops.” You heard Soap’s voice come over comms again.

“He’s judge, jury, and executioner now.” Ghost grumbled.

“Guess that’s what happens when you can’t make it in the real world. You have to kill an entire town to feel good about yourself. I can’t wait to skin the little bastard. Maybe stuff him and hang him on the wall for all of the Shadows to see.” You spit out, watching a pair of Shadows walk across an intersection in front of you.

“Just focus on getting to the church, Owl. Graves will get what’s coming to him soon, I can assure you of that.”

“You’re telling me, you see that big boy with the skull face and you’re not gonna start sweatin’?” You could faintly hear a Shadow say from nearby.

You smiled to yourself and continued to slowly sneak through the roads.

“I’m not going to see him.”

“You’re right, you won’t see him. It’s too late if you see him, you’re fuckin’ dead already.”

He wasn’t wrong. Ghost definitely was one to lurk in the shadows and take his enemies out from cover more than lunging straight into the fight. It was something you admired about him. Something you were inspired to try more. Now, you were nowhere as skilled with a throwing knife as he was, but you were able to sneak up behind enemies and slit their throat before moving onto the next. Something you’d have to put into action as you made your way through the death and blood riddled streets. You were cold and in pain. Every single breath hurt. You kept your hand on the wound as best as you could to apply pressure, pretty sure it wasn’t slowing down the bleeding. The church was still a ways away and the more you spent out in the rain, the more a sense of dread began to fill you. What if you didn’t make it…what if Soap or Ghost gets caught by the Shadows….what if YOU got caught by the Shadows…would they kill you right away or torture you to get an answer out of you as to where your companions were?

You shook your head again, you needed to keep your composure. Blinking the rain out of your eyes, you focused on the road ahead of you and the radio crackling in your ears as Ghost was teaching Soap about different tools and weapons he could make. Making mental notes, you kept a look out for the same things Soap kept finding. You just had to hope it would be enough.

“Feeling weak, are you, Johnny?

“A bit shaky, sir, yeah.”

“And you, Owl?”

“Never better, sir.” You grimaced as the pain flared up as if to make a point.

“Graves tried to kill us. Would stand to reason if you were a little off. Find a stim, it’ll give you a boost.”

Nodding to yourself, you began walking through a clothes store. A welcome relief away from the rain and the Shadow currently patrolling outside of it. A short break couldn’t hurt you. You needed to catch your breath. Sneaking around the counter, you found yourself in the changing room which was pitch black. Pulling yourself against the wall, you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing. How much longer could you do this…

Grabbing a shirt that lay discarded on the ground, you attempted to use it to stem the blood from your shoulder. Going through a mental checklist, you thought about attempting to find a needle and thread to just sew the wound shut and be done with it, but you knew that was a bad idea. Just as you mentally scolded yourself for the dumb idea, you heard a noise from the other side of the wall. Quiet footsteps, almost imperceptible with the rain pounding down outside. Pulling yourself back into a crouch, you tightly held your knife in your hand and stared at the door frame beside you. If you had to ambush the Shadow so be it. You figured he’d eventually come into the store and it appears now was the time.

Glaring at the door, you readied yourself to lunge at the man as soon as he walked through, but instead were shocked to see a man crouched down to the same level as you, backing his way into the dark room. He turned around and held up a bottle before sighing in relief.

“Owl, steamin’ Jesus you scared me.” Soap whispered.

You all but collapsed into the wall again. Thunder rumbled.

“You doin’ alright there?”

“Peachy.” You sounded breathless.

“Ghost, Owl and I found each other. They aren’t doing to hot by the looks of it.”

“Copy. Hurry and get here the both of you, and then we can find some help. Keep your head level, Owl, we need you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once again, you pulled yourself into a crouch and nodded at Soap while he began to search the room for anything of use, something you hadn’t gotten to yet. He could grab everything for all you cared. You just needed to get to the church. Let Soap do all the crafting he wanted.

Soap nodded to you when he was ready to once again ready to move. You both walked out the end of the hall where the changing room was which lead to what was obviously a backroom to the store. A dead Shadow sat against a wall next to a window, knife sticking out of his neck.

“Ghost, you missing a knife..?”

“Several.” You could practically hear the smirk. Laughing breathlessly, you shook your head.

“Think we found one.”

“Some of the dead Shadows are my handiwork.”

“You came through here?” Why is it getting more difficult to talk? Soap glances at you.

“On my way to the church.”

“And you left us?” Soap sounded hurt.

“I’m used to working alone.”

“So much for no man left behind.” You muttered.

“Just get yourselves to the church. Tryin’ to keep you two alive and get you here in one piece. One of us needs to survive and tell the tale.”

“Takin’ a shine to us then?” Soap teased, elbowing you to which you glared at him. He put his hands up in an apology.

“Not in the slightest. Still got a lot of ground to cover.” The radio crackled to silence.

“That’s that, I guess.” You laughed.

“Let’s get to work. Go through the window, I’ll be right after you.” Soap gestured to the broken window beside you.

Taking a breath, you readied yourself and jumped through the broken glass and landed on your feet with a low grunt. You could faintly hear a Shadow giving a sit rep to his radio. They hadn’t found any of you and were slowly getting more and more on edge. Much like you felt. Your nerves felt electrified. Sure, you’ve been on some shitty missions, but nothing like this. Nothing with this big of a toll. The screaming and gunshots were slowly quieting down. They were running out of townsfolk to slay, which meant they would be on guard much more now that they didn’t have any other targets to keep track of. You couldn’t see the church from where you were, but you hoped it was closer.

Soap followed behind you and spotted a crate at the end of the little alley you two were in. You both walked over to it and he opened it while you were keeping a lookout. Your hand was aching from how tight you held your knife, your gun sitting heavy in it’s holster.

“Seek and ye shall find.”

“Whatchya got?” You heard Ghost’s voice again.

“Black powder.” Soap began to put together a mine.

“Nice. This could get interesting.”

“God, am I happy you’re trained in that shit.” You gestured to him.

“As am I.” Soap smiled, widely. “Lt. About to play rough with the Shadows.”

“I like the sound ‘o that.” You raised your eyebrows at the tone of his voice.

“Fashioned a trip mine.”

“A man after my own heart.”

“Thought you’d like that.”

“You thought right.”

You stared at Soap in shock. Well all right then… For the third time, you had to shake your head to focus. You’d never get over how they jokingly flirt with each other in the face of danger. The first mission you did with them had you struggling not to laugh at how effortlessly they would fall into doing it. Ghost acted like he hated everyone, but you could tell that he and Soap were close friends.

“Oh, don’t let me distract you from getting to your boyfriend. By all means, lead the way Johnny.” You teased.

Soap shook his head and laughed before beginning to walk towards the other end of the alley and took out the Shadow you had heard talking earlier. You hung back a little and let him take him down. Looking through the different doorways you had passed in case he had any buddies with him.

“Killed a Shadow.”

“Nice.”

“Took his gun.”

“Good work. Moving up in the world, Johnny. Choose your shots and targets wisely, Johnny. Guns make noise.”

“I could’ve given you mine if you wanted it.” You walked into one of the open doors and spotted another dead Shadow.

Walking back into the alley, you let Soap take the lead again. Once the other Shadows in the area found the body, Soap looked at you before throwing a smoke bomb and you both ran forward and took out one of them and as you were pulling your knife out of the one you got, Soap got the last one. You bent over and attempted to catch your breath. A wave of nausea hit you out of nowhere. Soap grabbed your arm but you waved him off and stood up. How fucking far was this damn church?

Once you looked passed the Shadows you noticed a balcony that you had to jump off of. This would be fun. Steeling yourself, you leapt and landed on your feet with a slight slide with the slippery ground.

“It’s pishin it doon oot here.” You heard Soap say as he landed beside you. You just looked at him, confused.

“Speak English.” Ghost’s deadpan voice made you laugh.

“It’s rainin’ fuckin’ hard.” Soap sassily responded, making you snort.

“Then say so.”

“I did!” Soap raised his hands up in exasperation.

“Rain’s good. It’ll cover your tracks.”

“Covers theirs too..”

“Let’s worry about you two, Johnny.”

“So you do like me?” You teased.

“I like you alive.”

You laughed again then turned to open a door, Soap immediately pulling you to a stop. Turning to look in the door you saw a shotgun pointed straight at you. Backing up, you silently thanked Soap. You once again tried to catch your breath as Soap went around and disarmed the trap you nearly walked into. Absentmindedly, you put your good hand on your chest, you couldn’t tell if it was from the gunshot or if something else was wrong. Your chest hurt.

“Come on in, Owl.” Soap said, holding the shotgun. “Ghost, found a tripwire rigged up to a shotgun. Disarmed it. Took the gun.”

“Open hearts and minds with it, Johnny.”

As soon as you walked through the threshold of the doorway you heard a distant banging. You and Soap made eye contact and he headed up the stairs holding out the shotgun. Putting your pain aside, you followed him, knife tightly clenched again. At the top of the stairs, you were greeted with a long hallway, the door at the end being the source of the banging. It echoed loudly down the hall and, admittedly, made you jump slightly every time it came. Your mind was immediately filled with the images of zombie movies and how there’s always a scene like this. The survivors in a dark and spooky hallway while a zombie banged on the door, waiting until they put their guard down to smash through it and eat them. Your hair was already standing on end when the British bastard’s voice spoke through the radio again, making you jump and quietly curse him out.

“Johnny… Graves is burning the midnight oil to find us..why?”

“Graves and Shepard are both involved. No matter what, this is an unprecedented amount of fuckery.”

“We need to get to the bottom of it.” You chimed in, you didn’t know if it was your fear and mental image of a zombie on the other side of the door or whatever the fuck was going on with your chest, but you couldn’t get a deep breath in.

You were a hardened soldier and here you are, terrified of a fictional movie trope. Soap turned and looked at you again as you struggled to breathe in. Waving your hand, you two continued to look through the small house as the banging on the door continued.

“Accurate and deadly fire tends to resolve those things. Right now, we’re not safe here.”

“Right now, we’re not safe anywhere, L.t.”

As you rounded a corner, you saw a shadow on the wall the looked as if someone had been speared through and left there. Once again, your hand flew to your chest as you struggled to breathe, the thought of zombies came back. Forcing yourself to round the corner, you saw one of those stupid boxing toys next to the home’s…previous tenant.

“Owl, what is with you?” Soap asked, walking over when he heard you wheeze while trying to gain your breath.

“I’m fine.” You waved him off again, but this time he finally walked over and made you sit down against the wall so he could look at your wound. The bleeding had slowed with the shirt you used earlier, but still oozed when he untied it from around your shoulder.

“We need to hurry.” He muttered to himself. “You ready to head out now?”

“Only if you go first because my mind is convinced that THAT,” You pointed to the door as it banged again. “Is a zombie ready to eat us.”

“What the fuck?” Soap laughed at you as he retied the shirt.

“I don’t fucking know, man. Maybe it’s the blood loss. Because that screams zombie movie. Oh god. What if this is how we found about the apocalypse, on the run from Graves? That’d be horrible.” You winced as he tightened the shirt and made it into a makeshift sling.

“L.t., you hear this shit?” Soap asked, laughing again.

All you got in response was a grunt. Soap pulled the shotgun back into his hands and started to head to the door. You bit your lip as you steadied yourself. In the end, the cause of the noise would haunt you far more than any zombie. As soon as Soap turned the knob, a man fell through it and reached his bloody hand towards you two while dragging in a raggedy breath before going limp and lifeless.

“Poor bastard..” You whispered, stepping around him.

“Owl, over here. Found adrenaline stims.” Soap ushered you over to a nearby crate, making you tear your eyes off the dead man.

For the first time since you met up with Soap, your hand loosened around the knife. Your knuckles screamed as you put it down to grab the stim. Both of you nodded at each other and injected it.

“Good mornin’ Mexico..” Soap grinned.

The surge of adrenaline in your body made you forget about the tightness in your chest for a little while. You followed Soap into the next building, a coffee shop with a broken railing. Once again, the two men started their banter and you just laughed at them.

“The mask, take it off.”

“Show my face?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Negative.”

“Are you ugly?”

“Quite the opposite.”

“I doubt that.”

Soap helped you jump down onto the 1st floor and then you heard Shadows talking. The both of you went back into a crouch and you pointed the men walking around outside the window and Soap looked at you and pointed to the open door then put his finger up to his lips.

“Johnny, the town’s full of tunnels.” Ghost’s voice crackled over the radio once more.

Slowly, you and Soap began to take out the Shadows one at a time. When the last one went down, you winced and adjusted your arm in the sling. Soap looked at you as your wheezing became louder. He knew something was wrong, but you two needed to get to Ghost. You just needed to last a little longer then once you were all out of this situation, then he’d interrogate you.

The rain continued to pound on you both as you made your way to the tunnels, taking down Shadows whenever you had the chance. Soap continued to craft different mines, molotavs, and pry tools. Eventually, you two landed in the freezing water and began to make your way through it. You tried to fight your teeth chattering as you were slowly overtaken by a bone deep chill. The water you walked through had blood mixed into it. From you, Soap, or the carnage you’d never know. Probably a mix of the above.

As you two climbed up the stairs out of the tunnel, you were never so happy to see a fucking building. But of course, it’s blocked off. Never the easy way. You and Soap began to make your way through different shops, the adrenaline in your system almost depleted. Just a quick break. You just needed a quick break and then you could keep going.

You leaned against the wall as you saw Soap head for the door. He pulled on it and noticed it was locked so as he pulled out on of his homemade pry tools, you tried to say something to him. Tried to tell him to wait so you can catch your breath. You just needed to catch your breath and you’d kill all the Shadows that hunted you three. Nothing came out. A deep exhaustion came over you. You were cold and you were tired. And fucking hell did your chest hurt.

Everything moved in slow motion. Soap got the door open, but then was on the ground with a gun pointed at his face. You could faintly hear Graves voice on the Shadow’s radio. Reaching for your gun, you could barely raise it before the Shadow was dead.

“Holy hell, Ghost was that you?”

“Who else? Now go.”

Soap turned around to look at you and you could immediately see the panic on his face. Your eyes were half closed and a faint whistling was all that was your breathing. Guilt immediately started to overcome him. He should’ve stopped you earlier when he heard you wheezing. You could see him talking, but all you could hear was your heartbeat and your breathing. Suddenly, more Shadows started coming in and you did your best to shoot them, Soap put his hands around your waist and pulled you up. Pain shot through your entire right side. And then you two were running. You’d be lying if you completely knew where you were going. The world seemed to blink in and out of existence.

Whatever flashes you would get confused you. You were outside, then inside, then outside again. A large iron fence. Ghost was suddenly next to you. Then you were sitting in a truck. The truck slammed through barbed wire. Soap was undoing the sling again. Finally, your consciousness slipped through your fingers like sand and you were falling.

It felt like someone was sitting on your chest. You groaned as you opened your eyes. Immediately, you felt a hand on yours. Blinking away the bleariness from your eyes, you turned and looked to see Soap standing there. Ghost not too far behind him. You were clearly in a hospital.

“It wasn’t a zombie, was it?” You whispered to Soap.

He shook his head and laughed weakly.

“Damn. That would’ve been a good way to go.”

“Collapsed lungs and blood loss not good enough for you?” Ghost piped in.

“Hell no.” You smiled, “At least Graves didn’t get what he wanted. I bet he’s pissed.”

“You know it.”

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #modern warfare x reader #maesphantoms

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starsandhughes · 1 year

Text

Penalty Box— Quinn Hughes Edition (Part Seventeen)

SERIES MASTERLIST

previous: sixteen

next: eighteen

(vezina is the goalie award iydk)

TUESDAY, APRIL 4TH

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, trevorzegras, and 9,014 others

yourusername BREAKING NEWS: QUINN HUGHES IS AT SEVEN GAMES WITHOUT A PENALTY!!

while this is not his highest streak without one (his highest is ten, and he’s reached eight games three times) it’s the highest we’ve seen since i started the best friend edition of penalty box! go quinner!! in 27:27 minutes of ice time, too!! look at you go!!

this was a very sad loss (petey and tito got goals!! we deserved to win for them!! and ig the rest of the team… maybe quinn… but for sure them!!!) BUT quinn did a very good defensive move tonight to stop matty beniers’s shot from going in the net! homie took that puck right out of the crease behind demmer #QuinnForVezina (joke). and bear threw hands!! and got a fighting major!!! take notes, quinn!

congrats on your lucky number seven, bestie <3 i am proud of you; but more importantly, i love you💙

BREAKING NEWS PART TWO: quinn had his tongue out!(a baby bit) so y/n’s boyfriend of him!

tagged _quinnhughes

view all 233 comments

_quinnhughes i think this one was nice? but i know i love you, too💙

yourusername maybe you DO get paid for thinking

trevorzegras @/yourusername i’m so in love with you

_quinnhughes that came out of nowhere

yourusername @/trevorzegras i love you, too, sap<3

_quinnhughes this is MY post

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes and she’s MY girlfriend

jackhughes and she’s MY soulmate

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes nobody asked

yourusername you stupid boys stfu i’m sick of all of you

user1 if bear can go feral, so can huggy

jackhughes imagine only going ten games without a penalty

yourusername you’re so humble

jackhughes thank you

_quinnhughes i’m going to bet y/n was being sarcastic

yourusername @_quinnhughes you’re going to bet right in front of gambling addicts?

jackhughes @_quinnhughes this really isn’t good for us

_quinnhughes @/jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras spill

jamie.drysdale @_quinnhughes they’re betting ok whether z makes it to seven games

jackhughes @/jamie.drysdale when did you start listening to quinn?

jamie.drysdale @/jackhughes him and y/n scare me

jackhughes that’s valid

user2 QUINTIN JEROME IN THE NATIONAL ANTHEM HOT DAMN

user3 i wanna talk about the eighth pic

trevorzegras i’m coming for you, hughesy boy

_quinnhughes i’d like to see you try

yourusername i’d also like to see you try

trevorzegras @/yourusername who’s side are you on?

yourusername @/trevorzegras ethan’s

edwards.73 NICE

user4 i haven’t seen jamie appear in a quinn edition omg hi jamie!

jamie.drysdale hi

lhughes_06 4+3=7

yourusername good job, honey! college is clearly paying off

lhughes_06 thanks, mom!

edwards.73 7-3=4!

yourusername @/edwards.73 so proud of you!

jackhughes that’s my boys!!

user5 quinny’s lookin pretty fly for a white guy

jamie.drysdale i’ve been told to say congratulations?

_quinnhughes i’ve been told to say thank you

_alexturcotte @_quinnhughes i’ve also been told to say congratulations

_quinnhughes @_alexturcotte i’ve been told to say thank you again

#penalty box series: quinn hughes edition #penalty box series #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes insta edit #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #jack hughes #jamie drysdale #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes x reader #luke hughes #ethan edwards #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #alex turcotte

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romanstheory · 7 months

Text

Make Me Proud a Jey Uso One Shot

Warnings: none all fluff

Word count: 728 ** I knowwww it’s short I can make another part if y’all want**

18 +

Inspired by Sami and Jeys moment at his first night on RAW

Things have been weird sense leaving the bloodline….. I didn’t see any of it coming. The same boys I grew up with stabbed me in the back when I called out Roman for what he was doing. They exiled me… shunned me… left me for dead. I’ve never experienced betrayal like that before. Jey is who I would consider the absolute love of my life, and the feeling was mutual but he always had his brothers in his ear. I was the only one who dared to challenge Roman, well, until Jey finally did.

I was out on injury when everything took place. It was sheer chaos but I was so proud. He broke free from the grip of his egotistical cousin and sheeplike brothers. I screamed at my tv watching it all unfold week after week. Finally, Jey is back from his break and he was here at RAW to speak to the crowd.

I pace back and fourth rehearsing what I want to say to him over and over again. Should I even be doing this? I mean surely management is going to be cool with it right? Wait….. when have I ever cared about that? My thoughts raced over and over again. I can hear Jeys music echo through the arena “breathe….” I say to myself. Jey begins talking when I que my music to be played.

I walk out with a mic, Jey’s face riddled with confused and regret. “Look I mean no harm….” Say walking into the room “I just needed to tell you this to your face”. Jey patiently waits to hear what else I have to say, but also avoiding full eye contact like he always did when he knew he was face to face with the consequences of his own actions.

“Main even Jey Usoooo welcome to Monday night RAW!” I say loudly. “You did it”. Jeys eyes connect with mine quickly. We stand in the middle of the ring taking in the reaction of the crowd. I’ve always fought for Jey…. Even when he refused to fight for himself. Roman hated my guts for it and I didn’t give a damn. “Our entire lives you’ve been choosing to follow Roman” I say “but you finally chose yourself”

Jey puts his head down, eyes still connecting with mine. “I’m so proud of you Jey” I say with tears swelling up in my eyes “I’m so damn proud of you. I know you probably think I hate you, but I can’t and I won’t ever hate you. God Jey you got out!” A smile creeps across Jeys face as he picks his head up. I walk closer to him. “I always knew who you were in here” I say pointing to Jeys heart. “Listen to that! Listen to your heart”

Jey pulls me into a tight embrace, my heart fluttered a little. It felt like for the first time in a long time I got my friend back. I exit the ring to allow Jey to have his moment. The night progresses and my phone buzzes in my back pocket, it’s a text from Jey.

Meet me in the parking lot I need to talk to you

I walk through the now almost deserted hallways of the arena and to the parking lot. Jey is sitting on top of a big crate left to the side. He puts his hand out to help me up next to him. He stares down at his thumbs twiddling them back and fourth. “You needed to talk to me?” I ask. He nods slowly “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for everything we put you through” he says finally looking at me. “You didn’t deserve that and I get it if you don’t ever want anything else to do with me. It’s cool I accept that”

“You did what you were forced to do” I say softly “Roman said I was out and to leave me and because you trusted him you did. I forgive you” Jeys eyes light up, I could tell he didn’t expect forgiveness. “You made me so proud” I say softly putting my hands on his. Jey scoots closer and I lay my head onto his broad shoulder while he exhales harshly as if he could finally breathe again. “You better not ever do that shit again though”I say playfully

#wwe #Jey uso #jey uso one shot #roman reigns #the bloodline #Jimmy uso #jey uso fluff

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6emo6zombie6 · 4 months

Note

hii!! I was wondering if I could request a reader who is hurt with either Dutch or John? maybe from an animal attack or just getting hurt by someone who now has a scar across their face?

If not its totally okay! have a great rest of your day <3.

Thanks for requesting! I hope this is good (And not all too graphic lol)

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

Clawed ~ Hurt gn!reader x John/Dutch

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

“Where’re you headed?” Dutch asks, his voice rough as usual as he walks up behind you.

You pay him little mind, humming in his direction as you fasten your horse’s saddle, ensuring none of the straps are too tight.

“Huntin’?” He asks again, now walking up beside you to lean against the hitching post that your horse, Runar, is hitched to. He’d clearly referred to the bow on your horse.

“Yeah,” You breathe, nodding as you glance at him. “Pearson mentioned we were out of meat, so I figured a little huntin’ trip wouldn’t hurt.”

“You’re not takin’ Charles?”

“No,” You shake your head. “He taught me enough, I’m all set to go on my own.”

“hm,” Dutch chuckles. “I’ll take your word for it.”

You know he’s worried about you—he has been ever since he pulled you out of your situation and took you refuge in his camp. You’d been taken by a different gang, beaten up, and starved for their sick sense of entertainment.

You tut at Dutch, unhitching your horse and clumsily climbing up on the saddle.

“You know,” He watches you. “You ‘oughta get a smaller horse. You can barely get up on this one.”

You roll your eyes, adjusting your position. “But I like Runar, he’s calm and loyal.”

“I’m just jokin’, I’m just jokin’.” Dutch chuckles. “You be careful now,”

“I’ll be back by sundown.” You put on your hat, nodding once more at Dutch before taking off and leaving the campgrounds.

Your ride wasn’t all too long, you headed up north from Strawberry. Charles had taken you there twice, and both times it had been crawling with deer and some smaller animals. You decided to stall your horse in the trees, grabbing your bow and carefully making your way through the woods. You peered up into the tree to see if there were any squirrels, though you couldn’t find any.

You wandered around for a while, missing tons of shots on little animals. It was clear you weren’t experienced enough to successfully get an arrow in any rodents. You got bored after that long while, making your way back to your horse and riding it through more of the trees.

You rode through the woods and out of the trees, and you were quickly met with an open field. You smiled upon noticing a group of deer, grazing peacefully. You felt bad about killing the animals at first, but you quickly concluded that hunting meant life or death.

“Slow up, boy,” You murmur to your horse, getting him to stop right where the trees ended. You get off of him and draw your bow together with a few arrows.

“Stay here,” You command, patting your horse on the shoulder. Slowly, you gain on the deer, focusing on them as you prepare to shoot your bow. You pick a spot slightly right from the deer, crouching in the grass as you lift your bow, drawing the string and aiming at the fattest of the group. You internally cheered, thinking of how proud Charles would be if he heard you hunted your own deer for the first time.

Suddenly, you heard Runar neigh loudly, his high-pitched screech alarming both you and the deer. Your head whips around, scanning the edge of the forest.

“Runar!” You yell out, seeing him gallop off into the foliage. “Damn that horse,” You grunt, looking the other way again, watching all the deer scurry away. You look at your bow, then at the sun that is starting to set. You sigh, making your way south toward Valentine in the hopes of catching a stagecoach there.

Only a minute had gone by, and you were nowhere near the edge of the field when you heard a blood-curdling growl.

Cougar.

Now you knew what had spooked Runar.

You turned around swiftly, only to be met with a large, female cougar charging toward you. You knew she was out for blood—seeing the hungry look in her eyes. You froze for a second, then whipped around and started sprinting, running as fast as you could.

Once you looked around to check where the cougar was, she had already jumped at you. You shrieked as she pummeled you to the ground, her nails digging into your hip and waist. Your heart raced as your mind went blank, only concerned with staying alive. The large cat nipped and scratched at you, one of her paws dashing across your face as you struggled under her impressive stature.

You were half aware when your hand shakily reached to your belt, your hands gripping your knife to bring it up and plunge it into the animal’s heart. She struggled a little longer before collapsing, her blood spilling all over your chest. You gasped for air as you pushed her off, her body lying limp in the grass.

You got up, your body trembling from all the adrenaline in your blood. You felt a faint stab in your abdomen, as well as the taste of copper in your mouth. As you stumbled forward, you looked down, your shirt ripped to shreds and blood seeping from two large gashes.

“Oh, no,” You breathed, the shock washing away, making you feel the painful sting from your wounds. You frantically press your hand up to the gash, breathing heavily as you start to panic. It all went by so quickly, your blood kept dripping as you walked, hoping to make it to civilization before anything else went down.

Alas, you never made it out of the field, collapsing halfway through as your vision started to flicker. You saw flashes and stars, then everything went black.

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

“Don’t die on me, now,” You heard in an echo. The raspy voice sounded familiar, but you couldn’t seem to put your finger on it. Your eyes opened slightly to see the stars in the pitch black sky, then when you looked to the right, a dark-haired man, his face illuminated by a lantern on the ground next to him. You finally recognized the face.

John.

“John?”

John exhaled, an expression of relief washing over his face. “What-“ He grunted. “what were you thinking? Out here on your own. You’re lucky I found you.”

He seemed to be only wearing his jacket, his shirt currently wrapped around your wounds.

“I’m sorry,” You breathe, wincing at the pain of your wounds. “How—how’d you find me?”

“That horse of yours, he ran back to camp.” John shoveled his arms under you, lifting you up while you groaned in pain. “I followed his tracks back here.”

“You kill that cougar?” He looked around at the animal’s carcass.

“yeah—” You keep moaning out in pain as John places you on the back of his horse, getting on himself. You hold on to his jacket weakly, the world spinning around you.

“Dutch is worried sick about you, you know?” John shook his head, speeding through the woods. He grunted, frustrated by your lack of planning.

“God—i—,” He stammered. He seemed almost angry at you. “You could’ve died!”

“But I didn’t,” You murmur. John ignores you, riding back to camp with haste.

He helps you off his horse once you’re there. Charles, Dutch, Susan, and Arthur crowd around you, all with worried faces as you stumble along to your tent. The rest of the gang members watch from all over the camp.

“What—” Dutch walks up behind you on one side, Charles on the other side to help you walk. “What happened? My dear child,” His thick eyebrows knit together in worry as he successfully helps you lay down on your cot. He stands over you as he inspects you, your torn clothes, the gash on your face, all the blood.

Before you can answer, Miss Grimshaw is already in your tent, bandages in hand.

“I’ll handle it,” Dutch sternly says, taking the supplies and ushering the woman out of the tent. You watch, confused as he closes up the front flaps and lights a lantern in the corner of your tent. Something in his expression hints that he feels guilty.

“I—” You grunt. “I almost had a deer, all on my own…” You murmur, Dutch looks at you, still confused. “A cougar attacked me after Runar ran off.”

“I was a fool to let you go alone,” He sighs, bending down to take John’s shirt off of your wounds. You grunt at him peeling the fabric away, the cold air stinging. He looks at the gashes on your abdomen and waist, pained at the sight of his loved ones hurting.

“God,” He took a long look at your face, inspecting the ragged gash that ran from your cheek to your forehead. “Hosea’s gonna have to stitch that up,” He murmured, pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger affectionately. “That damn animal, ‘went and tore up your beautiful face…”

You look away, feeling guilty about bringing Dutch this much distress. he gently caresses your cheek, then kneels by your cot and grabs the roll of bandage.

“Sit up for me, darling,”

You struggle to sit up, grunting and moaning in pain as you move slowly. The waistband of your pants digs into the gashes on your skin, so you slide your suspenders off of your shoulders and roll your pants down. Dutch pushes up what’s left of your shirt and begins carefully bandaging up your wounds.

You suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, feeling the pressure of the fabric on your stinging skin. You’ve never seen Dutch this precise and careful, let alone his visible worry as he tends to your wounds. You look down at the mess, part of your pants had torn up and lots of blood had seeped into your clothes. Dutch sighs, constantly looking up at you to make sure you’re not in too much pain.

After a few minutes, he’s done bandaging you up. He gets up and takes another look at your face before silently walking out of the tent. You watch him with confusion, eventually forcing yourself up and out of the tent to see what he is doing.

You look across the camp to see him filling a bowl of stew, he looks concerned once he notices you out of your tent. You ignore his gaze and walk over to the main campfire. John stares at you silently, and Reverend looks at you with remorse.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” John asks, his concern hidden by a mask of frustration. You hum at him, sitting down against a log with a groan.

Dutch walks over, shaking his head as he sees you by the campfire. The rest had already gone silent.

“Here,” He murmurs, handing you a plate of hot stew. You smile up at him and take the plate. “I want you to rest after you’re done eating, understood?”

“Okay…” You murmur, looking up at him as he pats your head quickly before walking off to his tent. The conversation sparks up again around the campfire after that. You watch John as he gets up and walks away, disappearing behind Pearson’s wagon. He comes back a minute later with a bottle of whiskey, not making any eye contact as he puts it down beside you.

“Should help with the—with the pain.” He murmurs, sitting back on the crate that he had previously been sitting on. You smile softly in his direction, taking the bottle in hand and gulping at it.

“Heh, you and Marston are matching,” Bill barks out a laugh as he walks by, referring to your bloodied and scarred face.

You and John mutter a synchronized “Shut up.” At the man.

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