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lilacxoz · 10 months

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Boyfriend’s Daddy - Toji

F!reader

Cheating!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, choking, oral(Toji receiving), slapping, dacryphilia, sadism, use of “daddy”, cheating Toji, you cheat on Megumi basically.

I am not responsible for people under 18 who read this. minors or ageless bloggers please dni!

You loved Megumi, you really did. But you always knew something was different, that you needed something more. You had always thought it was just the sex, he was never good at making things exciting due to his shyness. You understood that, but plain vanilla sex gets boring.

Then it was the poor aftercare, always falling asleep with his head in your neck. Never asking if you were okay and always waking up the next morning as if nothing happened the night before.

Next was his lack of emotion. You found it hard to read him despite being his girlfriend of two years. He’d always hide his emotions and you hated that, especially during really deep conversations. And it wasn’t that his lack of emotion meant lack of commitment, but sometimes that’s what it felt like.

You don’t know when you fell out of love with him, but you knew you hated yourself for it.

But now you were here, sitting next to Megumi while his mother and father sat on the other side of the dinner table. Megumi had his hand on your thigh like always, but it didn’t have that warm comfort anymore; It just made you uncomfortable.

“What are your plans tonight?” His mother asks, her voice sweet like honey while his father just held that scowl. There was something about his father that you liked, you just couldn’t quite place it though.

“Nothing really,” you reply with a soft smile, “probably sleep.” She gave a sullen smile, as if she knew how the love in your relationship has diminished.

“Your anniversary is coming up, anything planned? You both could use the beach house?” Megumi just huffed, shrugging his shoulders. “You know, we’re not getting any younger, a grandchild-“

“Stop! We’re not ready and never will be for that.” Your heart cracked a little at his words because you did want a child with Megumi, but it seemed he already made his mind up. You felt the shift in the air, taking Megumi’s hand off your thigh.

He was about to say something of your action, but his phone rang. He excused himself as you collected the plates to wash. “I can get those,” his mother protested.

“Let me,” you challenged, “please.” She didn’t protest, giving you a smile before she and her Husband settled on the couch. Their distant chatter and the sound of the sink is the only thing that helped muffle your thoughts. You felt a hand on your lower back as you felt Megumi’s breath fan your neck.

“Gojo…I won’t be home until tomorrow night. Love you,” he informed, kissing your temple. He took your face in his hand, planting his soft lips to yours. But those butterflies weren’t as strong as they used to be. “Talk when I get home?” You nodded, it seemed that’s all you did with him.

He then walked out, explaining his dismissal to his parents before leaving. You assumed it’s because Gojo came to pick him up like he always did. It was five minutes and you were halfway through the dishes before Toji came into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out a small bottle of sake. You expected him to leave after that, but he leaned against the counter next to you. You watched him open the bottle and take a sip, as if contemplating what to say.

“I uh, ‘m sorry about my boy. Something’s up, clear as day.”

“You don’t have to apologize on the behalf of his relationship downfall,” you say almost barely a whisper. Toji’s lips purse shut, he wasn’t apologizing for his son. He was apologizing for you. He watched as a tear fell down your cheek, trying to hide it as you faced away from him.

“I don’t appreciate pretty girls crying over my stinkgumi son.” You let out a soft laugh, hands washing a dirty porcelain china plate. He offered you some of his drink, cleaning your hands off before accepting the bottle. You took a big chug, impressing Toji by a change in your “good girl” persona. “Didn’t know a good girl like you could drink like a man.”

You softly chuckled, crossing your arms as you looked up at him. “Seems like to me your more of a girl yourself with how mysterious you act,” you tease. He let out a soft chuckle, your heart catching in your throat at the sound. It was a beautiful laugh, one that made your stomach go crazy.

“You’re a strange one,” he thinks aloud, making you shrug as you go back to the dishes.

“Guess I’m strange and pretty,” you say, repeating his words. He tried to hide the smirk on his face, liking the way you think and act. He started to see what his son saw in you, and he liked you a lot better than he did before.

He left you alone after that, meeting his wife on the couch. Ten minutes go by before you realized Megumi took the car. You stood outside, staring at the empty parking spot in shock. Then you felt a presence behind you, Toji tossing his keys up and catching them. “I’ll drive ya,” he said, walking over to his sleek black Nissan Skyline. You gulped, following him to his car.

You sat in the passenger as he turned the car on, roaring the engine to life. It smelt like him inside, along with being surprisingly clean. A bass heavy Petey Pablo song started playing, a very sexual song that made your face heat up.

“Didn’t know a late forty year old man listened to this kind of music,” you teased. He chuckled, his thumbs tapping on the steering wheel.

“I’m thirty-seven, and I grew up on this shit,” he said through a chuckle before a smirk. Your placed your hands under your thighs, listening to the erotic lyrics. You only felt nervous because this was a song you had sex too, and it may not have been good sex but it still roused some of the familiar emotions. You felt a second heartbeat between your legs and your breaths grow shallow. You hated it, hated how Toji was only heightening your arousal. He wore a plain black tee and grey sweats, exposing his defined and veiny arms.

It was a very painful ten minutes to your home, and a little awkward. There was tension, and it was painfully obvious what kind. “Look kid, I know exactly what your thinkin’, and it’s wrong,” Toji calls you out, making your face burn and body to curl in on itself. You nodded as you bit your bottom lip. You then stepped out of the car, not bothering to say goodbye with how embarrassed you were. Of course it was wrong to get turned on from your boyfriend’s father; but it had been almost a year since you were fucked and missed the rough sex. Now? All Megumi wants is soft sex.

You closed the front door behind you, leaning against it as you let out a pent up breath. You were aroused more than you ever were with Megumi, and you felt embarrassed. You spent a good two minutes self loathing, thighs pressed as you tried to get Toji out of your mind.

You heard a knock on the door behind you, a little surprised because it was close to midnight. When you opened, you were met with a six foot three figure looking down on you. The next moments happened in a flash, his hands on your waist as he pushes you into the house, his lips on yours in a flash. His lips were rough, and you loved it.

He shut the door behind him with his foot, slamming you against the wall next to the front door in the foyer. You let out a yelp, his lips devouring yours as his hands moved to your ass. “This dress has been driving me fucking nuts, and since Stinkgumi didn’t fuck you in it yet then I will.” You moaned at his words, his lips moving down to devour your neck and jaw next. You let your hands move on their own, on his chest and palming him through his pants. You knew he was tall and muscular, but you didn’t think that would make his dick that big. Not even fitting in your small hand.

You felt his hips move with your hand, his own hand rubbing your pussy from behind. You moaned as he slipped your g-string to the side, one you wore for Megumi. You gasped as he slipped a thick finger inside your pussy, teeth biting your lip. “Fuck Toji!” You moaned, his finger curling inside you. You felt like your skin was on fire, your pussy clenching against his finger. He added another finger, your body hitching against his body.

You slid your hand inside his sweatpants, fisting his thick and twitching cock. He grunted at the action, hips bucking up into your hand. “This is so wrong,” he whispered in your ear, “but I bet you like that; fucking your boyfriend’s daddy.” When you didn’t reply, he brought a free hand up to your face, slapping it hard. His wife didn’t like his sadist pleasures, but the sultry smile on your face said you loved it. He slapped you again, your pussy fluttering around his fingers as they thrusted into you.

He then slipped his fingers out, forcing them into your mouth. Your tongue lapped at his fingers, eyes never breaking from his green ones. A smirk adorned his scarred lips, watching you take his fingers. “Why don’t you suck my dick just as good?” He asked, taking his fingers out your mouth and slapping your face again. The side of your cheek was red and stinging, but you loved it.

You lowered yourself to your knees, eyes never breaking from his as you let him take your dress off as you lowered. You were now in nothing but your red g-string, hands slipping off his sweats to reveal his thick and long cock. You licked a line down his slit dripping with precum, relishing in his defined chest and black line of hair from his stomach down to his pubic bone. He looked like a sculpture from the gods, knowing this as a shit eating grin forms on his face. “Suck,” he commands.

You take him in your mouth, his cock filling your mouth completely. He had a hand reach down to the back of your head, fisting your hair as he helps you suck him off right. He knew he was big, his wife refusing to even try to suck him off because of it. Five years it’s been since he last got sucked off, and he didn’t realize how much he missed the sight. As if he could cum on the spot.

You sucked and licked his cock, getting it glistening with your spit. He loved it, along with the mascara that was forming around your eyes from tears. The sight was one his son clearly didn’t take advantage of if you were so unsatisfied. Toji’s head fell back as he bucked his hips up into your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

With each thrust of his hips made you gag on his cock, tears falling down the apples of your cheeks. But you loved how he used your mouth how he liked, your pussy missing his fingers with how much you wanted him to use your pussy like that instead.

He let out a deep groan before pulling you up by your hair, pushing your lips to his. His tongue dived into your mouth, exploring every part of you. He pulled away, leaving you breathless as you stared at him with glassy eyes.

“Go get a condom,” he says, but you just smile.

“I haven’t had sex in two months, you think we have condoms?” His eyes subtly widened at your words, there was no way it was that long for you.

“So you want me to fuck you raw? You dirty girl,” he purred. You just smiled with lidded eyes and a sultry smile, leading him to the couch just in the other room. He pushed you over the armrest, your ass on full display for him. He took his shirt off as his hand caressed the plush skin before him.

He loved the nice piece of ass you offered, not even caring it was already claimed by his son. If Toji wants something, his son isn’t going to stop him from getting it. His old girlfriends’ used to be scared of Toji, but you were the first one to poke the bear without fear. He liked that about you. He liked it a lot.

“I want you to tell me exactly what you want,” he affirmed, wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling you up so he could see your face-his other hand aligning his tip to your wet pussy.

“I want you to fuck me,” you moan out, hands holding your tits as you try to meet your hips with his. He just darkly chuckles, bringing his mouth to your ear.

“And my name is? I won’t give you what you want until you use the proper name for me.” He wanted to hear you call him daddy, wanted to see the redness form on your face as your needy cunt begged him to slam his dick inside.

“D-daddy- please give it to me rough daddy,” you cry out, gasping when he slammed his hips against yours. His cock plunged so deep that your legs almost gave out, your thighs shaking as your moans grew to quiet whimpers. It hurt, yet all you wanted was more. He began slow, watching your face contort from feeling full with pain, to feeling full with pleasure. He was eliciting noises from you that you didn’t know you could make, and it was pretty obvious. Toji just couldn’t believe his son didn’t know how pretty his girlfriend sang when she got what she wanted. No- what she needed.

His thrusts grew more pronounced and fast, your tits and ass bouncing with each thrust. You wanted more, wanted him to treat you like the cheating whore you were. And he was willing to treat just as such. His hand wrapped around your neck as he helped position one knee on the armrest to get a deeper angle. And with each moan, his hand squeezed your throat tight. He loved the sound of you choking, along with the flutter of your pussy when you did.

You were too much for him, giving him everything he ever wanted with sex. You were such a bratty girl with witty remarks, a girl who wasn’t afraid to back down. The girl of his dreams.

He pulled out of you, flipping you around so you sat on the armrest, legs wrapped around his waist as his hands gripped your ass. “You want to finish? Tell me what do I get from this exchange?”

You just moaned out as you offered your pussy to him. Yet, that wasn’t enough. Toji wasn’t one to want women, even shocking himself that he was married with a lovely step-daughter who he treated like his own. But he wanted your everything.

“Just your pussy isn’t enough,” he grunted, hair in his emerald eyes as he stared you down.

“Everything!” You blurted, completely drunk on lust and him. “You can have my everything. How you want it daddy.” Your answer pleased him, thrusting his cock back into you with inhumane force. The house filled with your moans and his grunts, the both of you nearing the end.

You came first, his mouth swallowing every cry as you came around him. He followed soon after, grunting and groaning as he came inside you. But the one noise he made shocked you, and it was a whimper. It was a noise you knew he didn’t make often from the subtle pink adorning his cheeks.

When he pulled out you pushed him onto the couch, straddling his hips. “I wanna hear you make that noise again daddy,” you pouted, teasing his tip with your finger.

“You’re gonna keep me up all night, aren’t ya?”

#jjk x reader #jjk toji #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #toji fushiguro #toji x you #toji smut #toji zenin #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji #daddy toji #dilf toji #toji fushiguro smut

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ceilidho · 5 months

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Hi crazy Johnny with a single mam anon back because im insane and have brainrot and am seriously contemplating writing it bcus i feel compelled by the power of Christ (Johnny’s cock) to write something pervy and nasty and creepy but ultimately sweet but im also just braindumping and sharing bcus not enough johnny content floating around I fear so have to pull up my bootstraps and do it myself (this is so long ceil im so very sorry)

anyways so I think this is sooo much hotter if Johnny is either on a prolonged medical discharge or he’s been forced into retirement for one reason or another (because then can keep an eye on you lol) he and like this has been touched on before but he’s just got. nothing to fucking do. And holy hell he’s going crazy. He needs something to do. So his silly, terribly adjusted brain latches onto the poor single mam next door who DEFINITELY needs his help.

Im a sucker for forced codependency. You, who thinks you’re doing great on your own, versus ‘can’t handle this all on yer own, eh little lass?’ Johnny MacTavish. He’s SO fucking subtle about it. Commenting on how hard it must be to have to raise a baby all your own, and gods love you just look knackered here let me take the bairn for a bit. He comes round and makes little comments about your house being messy (disorganised, but not messy) and immediately starts ‘sympathising’ because you just mustn’t have time to clean up but it’s important to keep hazards out the way of the baby, here he’ll *help*.

Never questions your ability as a mother, god no, just slyly drops suggestions that you’re not coping as well as you thought. And it fucking NAGS at you. And eventually, you start going to Johnny more and more for help. I honestly think he would cause problems in your flat (fixable ones, like fucking up the electrics or messing around with the pipes but stuff he knows he can fix) so you either have to A. Move in with him temporarily or B. Have to ask him to fix them. Eventually just says that your landlords a cunt for letting you live in a shithole and insists you just move in with him permanently. You do (it’s not really up for debate).

He doesn’t use condoms. I’m sorry he just doesn’t, but he will TELL you that he does- especially the first time you have sex. You’re all worried because ‘oh god Johnny I’m not on birth control I just put it off after I had the baby and we didn’t use a condom-‘ and he’s immediately tucking you into his chest and stroking your hair and shushing you ‘divvint be daft lass, course i wrapped it up, stupid thing just broke. Did ye not realise? Must’ve been heat o’ the moment, don’t worry yer little heed about it alright? Johnny’s here.” and kisses you on your hair and lulls you into sleep. Adamantly denies whispering about how pretty you’re gonna look pregnant as if he’s trying to subliminal you into pregnancy. lol.

Will legally adopt your baby. Like he’ll suggest it, straight up. And you’re probably a bit taken aback because it’s only been six months but he is insistent. This is probably the catalyst for his ‘im the biological dad’ delusions. Once he’s down as the father he’s actually losing his mind a little. Can imagine Simon or Gaz popping round to check up on Johnny on their next leave and suddenly he has a family and they’re actually a little concerned because when Gaz makes a comment about the baby’s being cute Johnny’s like ‘Yeah we did a good job, didn’we lass?” and between the two of them there’s just silence because johnny this is not your baby but they can see that slightly deranged look in his eyes. Defo asks about all the heavy details of your pregnancy and labour and the first few months so he can pretend like he was actually there for it and will talk about it as if he were actually there (extra bonus points if Gaz actually pulls you aside in the kitchen and asks about Johnny’s behaviour and tells you to be careful LMAO).

So yeah anyways.

PLEASE WRITE THIS IM BEGGING YOU!!!!!! im screaming at that last bit i need this so bad please......i don't ask for much but i swear to god please write this for me. this idea was designed in a lab to inflict the maximum amount of psychic damage on me. please write this and i will happily beta/edit it for you if you need any help omg

#john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap x you #soap x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2

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look-at-the-soul · 1 month

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Every little thing you do- Part 2

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series Master list

Thank you so much for giving this little idea so much love 💕 it means a lot! Thank you for taking the time to read and share your thoughts

Word count: 2,695

The house was quiet, it was probably pretty late by now, but at least the initial commotion was calmer now. Tommy’s eyes focused on the flame flickering on the bedside table, the room was quiet. Then his eyes darted to Y/N… his best friend seemed so vulnerable, so small. He had seen the marks her father left on her back it was a horrible sight and now it looked worse. As if her life wasn’t complicated enough by the unplanned pregnancy, Y/N would have to deal with the physical pain as well.

He studied Y/N’s face for a minute, taking in the swollen eyes from crying too much, his heart aches for her, she didn’t deserve to be treated like this. She held a special place close to his heart since they were kids.

“Do you’ve a minute?” Polly asked.

As she realized the doubt in her nephew’s eyes, she assured him that Y/N would sleep for a while. After cleaning her injuries and adding a strong ointment to the wounds on her back, Polly checked the baby and gave Y/N a tea to help her sleep.

Tommy gave Y/N one more look and covered her arm with the thin sheet, but was careful enough to not hurt her before he walked out of what was once Ada’s room in Watery Lane.

“What happened?” He found Polly downstairs stomping her cigarette on the ashtray. Earlier, she didn’t ask questions, she just rushed to take care of Y/N’s wounds just she had done so many times when they were kids, and eventually teenagers on the brick of trouble every time.

“Y/N is pregnant, the son of a bitch told her he wasn’t sure the baby is his.”

“And that’s why her father hit her like that?!” She asked scandalized. “He’s an animal.”

“How’s the baby, really?” He asked with genuine concern.

Polly sighed. “She was smart to offer her back, so the belt wouldn’t hit in any compromising area, but I’d keep her in bed just in case.” She suggested.

“Tommy,” Scudboat apologized for the interruption, “we found the vehicle, Scott has been hiding in the house, do you want the men to enter and get him?”

Leaning on the counter, Tommy considered his options for a few seconds. “No, keep someone watching his house at all times, he might try to escape.”

As the blinder left him again alone with his aunt, Tommy expressed out loud a decision he had already made.

“We can’t leave her alone Pol.” He clenched his jaw. “She’s on her own, that bastard just used her and her family won’t help her with the baby yo-you saw how they hurt her.”

“I know.” She added breathlessly stopping for a second as she got the kettle. “They turned their backs on her when she needed them the most.”

“Sort a doctor tomorrow morning to make sure they’ll be fine.”

“And then what?” Pol stared at him.

“I just got a house, still needs a few things… I can take Y/N there, because if she stays here, she’ll see her parents all damn day.”

“In the meantime if she needs another place, there’s my house as well.”

Tommy folded his arms against his chest and nodded profusely.

“Poor Y/N… she’ll have a hard time with people pointing fingers at her all the time.” Polly shook her head.

Tommy remembered the long stares and whispers over Ada, when she suddenly got married and started showing no long after. He had been forced to walk around with the gun in his hand for several weeks. They even kicked her out of a boutique once she tried buying a dress and Tommy had to stop by with a few men until his sister got the dress that she wanted.

“I’ll blind anyone who dares to do something against Y/N.” He stated firmly pouring some whiskey finally.

“What happened?” Finn asked looking from his brother to his aunt.

“If anyone asks,” Tommy pointed a finger at him, “you haven’t seen Y/N here alright?”

Finn frowned. “But I haven’t seen her.”

“Exactly.” Tommy agreed walking towards the fireplace, he added a few pieces of wood and then took a seat in front of it. Pondering on the previous events, worry installed on his shoulders of what might happen. Anger spreading on his body at the thought of his best friend being humiliated by her useless boyfriend, after all she had done for the prick and he had the audacity to doubt the baby was his. Thanks to her, Scott got the chance to be a blinder, and with that endless benefits.

One of his men knocked desperately and as Tommy went to see what was happening he heard the best news of the day.

“We followed Scott, he was at the train station.”

He took the remaining of his drink in a swing. “Was?”

“The boys took him to the warehouse, he had a ticket to escape.”

Tommy gave his aunt a look. “If Y/N wakes up, send someone to let me know.”

As Polly saw them disappear, her eyes darted upwards, in a silent prayer. She knew Scott wouldn’t live a day without regretting his decision. Taking her cup of tea with her, she decided to look for some clothes and clean sheets to provide to Y/N while they sorted everything out.

Y/N was considered part of the family, she and Tommy had always been close, in a way Y/N was the only person who could understand her nephew. The one who he trusted the most.

She decided to go to the church the following morning to light a candle and pray for Y/N and the baby.

Taking a deep breath and one of her eyes cracked a bit open. As everything started to hurt so bad, her chest felt heavy as memories from what had happened hit Y/N hard. Word by word her parents had said replayed in her mind.

A single tear rolled down from her eye to her nose. With trembling fingers, Y/N moved one of her hands to the yet non-existent bump. It was still early to start showing but she couldn’t help but think her baby was starting to grow inside her.

Despite the circumstances, Y/N felt like giving her own life for this baby. It didn’t matter that Scott or her family decided to leave her.

Tommy opened the door carefully to not wake Y/N up, but to his surprise she was already awake.

“Go on… say it.” She was waiting for Tommy’s lecture.

Scott had turned his back just like her parents. All the people she thought she could rely on showed her to not take them for granted.

But Tommy shook his head.

“How are you feeling?” He asked taking the chair in the corner to place it next to the bed.

“Like a total failure.” She admitted with tears in her eyes.

“Y/N.” Tommy didn’t know what to say to make her feel better, to help her. “Hey, look at me.” He spoke softly and covered one of her hands with his own.

Y/N started biting the inside of her cheek to prevent more tears to come out. But looked at her best friend anyways.

“You’re not alone, I know you’ve a lot to take in at the moment… but you can count on me for everything.” He offered sincerely.

She didn’t feel worth any of this, she felt dirty, stupid for believing in Scott’s love words. How could she have been so naïve?

“Why?” Her voice broke. “Why do you want to help me when I’ve done everything wrong?”

“Don’t do this to yourself.” Tommy swallowed hard. “Don’t let them get in your head, I know how it is, but this isn’t your fault.”

“Of course it is! I gave myself away to Scott, I’m just another whore.”

Tommy lost his control, he didn’t want her to feel this way.

“You’re not a whore. You did it out of love and that’s not something to regret.”

“I deserve this, my father is right.” Y/N shook her head, she angrily wiped a tear away.

“No, you don’t deserve this shit happening. Y/N you’re a good woman an-”

Y/N’s grandmother asked if she could walk into the room. Tommy felt grateful for the interruption because he didn’t know how to deal this situation. He didn’t want to say that he had warned Y/N about her now ex boyfriend and make her feel worse than she already did.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

At least he got a chance last night at the warehouse to make the bastard pay for playing with Y/N’s heart. Tommy made it very clear he better disappear from her life for good because if he ever saw him again, he wouldn’t let him walk twice alive.

He had been a few punches away from killing Scott. But the image of Y/N holding a baby in her arms stopped him… he wouldn’t be responsible for killing that baby’s father, even though Scott definitely deserved it. So he limited himself to leave a little warning, a message.

“This is a mess, Y/N feels so guilty for getting into this.” Tommy announced walking into the kitchen. He found his sister and aunt making breakfast.

Tommy’s eyes fixed on Karl and he was taken back in time to when Ada thought he had betrayed Freddie. He was a lot of things, but he’d never cause a pain like that to a child. At least not one of his own people.

From the beginning, he knew Scott was a piece of shit, but Y/N seemed so happy and thrilled, how would he step in to destroy her happiness? He never imagined he’d have to help her pick up the broken pieces of her heart. The sudden presence of Polly close to him made him snap back into reality, she stepped closer to help him light the cigarette that was hanging from his mouth.

Tommy moved his eyes towards his nephew, he was playing with a truck on the floor. Perhaps he was overthinking but he didn’t know what would he answer when Y/N’s child asked about his or her father.

“Ada would you talk to Y/N?”

“About what?”

“When you got pregnant…” he began with embarrassment in his eyes to talk about that. “It’s something similar.”

They’ve come a long way ever since, but Tommy still regretted the time they spent apart. Family was everything to him.

“And what do you want me to say Tommy? Her boyfriend dumped her, it’s not the same I got married.”

He sighed in frustration. “I just want Y/N to feel our support.”

“You’re going to make her feel overwhelmed! I know how noisy you can be.” Ada protested.

Tommy scoffed, he felt offended by his sister’s words. He just wanted to help Y/N.

“I’ll talk to her.” Polly intervened placing some food on a tray to give Y/N.

“Thank you.”

Ada clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. Her eyes boring into her brother.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

But Ada turned the corner of her mouth down and shuddered. “Nothing it’s just strange to see you go above and beyond for someone.”

As she walked out of the kitchen, Tommy found himself thinking of her words. She was telling the truth but… but how could he stand there and do nothing for Y/N?

He knew her like the palm of his hand, she had been by his side since forever, encouraging him to follow his dreams, telling him the truth right in his face when he messed up. Even he didn’t want to hear it.

There was no other way to do this, she’d have his entire support through the pregnancy and whatever she might need afterwards.

“Mr. Shelby!” Y/N’s grandmother shouted from upstairs.

Tommy skipped a few steps and when he reached Ada’s old room, he found Polly holding Y/N’s hair back, she had been sick and her grandmother was trying to hold her trembling body.

“I’m sorry Pol. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry for? With everything you’ve been through it’s not a surprise your stomach can’t handle food. Tommy help me here.” His aunt asked him to take her place so Y/N could use his strength as support. “Take her to that chair, while I sort this out.”

Following Polly’s instructions, Tommy lead Y/N carefully to the chair in the corner while his aunt and Y/N’s grandma changed the bedsheets. Ada joined them a moment later with a glass of water. “Try some crackers, it helped me with sickness during my pregnancy.” She offered taking the sheets downstairs.

Y/N groaned feeling embarrassed and mortified for everything. As soon as she smelled the food her stomach protested, but she felt bad for telling Polly something so she decided to just eat the food. But the moment she got the first bite, she couldn’t help it and it ended in her throwing up and making a mess.

“I want to thank you for taking care of her.” Y/N’s grandmother admitted taking her hand.

“I was just thinking…” Tommy started to say, “You could come with me to the new place I got.” Then he turned to face her grandmother. “It’s outside the city, away from curious eyes and it’s surrounded by trees.”

“No.” Y/N stated.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea dear.” Her grandma smiled at Tommy. “Fresh air could help her.”

Y/N sighed frustrated with herself, with the situation.

“Think about it, yeah?” Tommy suggested. “That way you won’t run into your parents everyday, and you can walk to the lake to relax.”

“He’s right.” Her grandma approved. “You’ll feel grateful to be away from the drama.”

“Perfect! Looks like you got it all figured out Tommy.” She snapped. “Just like my mother who wanted to send me to her aunt’s farm.”

She knew this wasn’t fair, he was the only one offering support, but she couldn’t help it, she felt on the brick, like everything was falling apart. And she was angry with herself.

Polly pushed Tommy away and gently grabbed Y/N’s arm. “Sweetheart all of this worry isn’t right for the baby. For the first time, I think going to that house is the best idea.”

“Unfortunately your choices are limited my darling.” Y/N’s grandma spoke softly. “But you should know that these wonderful people are trying to help you.”

She was trying to be strong, to pretend this didn’t hurt her, but truth is he world was crashing down. And this was only the beginning.

That seemed to click on Y/N’s mind because she gave a small nod, he lower lip gave in and it started quivering, then the tears started to fall down her cheeks.

“Thank you so much.” Y/N sobbed. “I’m so sorry.” Emotions took over her.

Her grandma pulled her in for a hug, wrapping her arms protectively around her just like she did when she was a child. “The Lord removed some people from your life but look at the angels he placed right away.”

Tommy saw Polly dabbing the corner of her eyes with her sleeve.

“This baby will grow surrounded by people who really love him or her.” He assured her.

“Now how about I help you take a bath? The doctor should arrive shortly.” Polly offered rubbing her back.

Her grandma squeezed between them. “I better go, said I was going to church.”

“Thank you for coming gran.” Y/N gave her a tight hug.

As they moved to get things done, Polly stopped her nephew before he could walk downstairs. “You’re brave for helping her like this.”

“I can’t leave her on her own.” He tried to explain, but Polly interrupted him.

“Your mother raised you right.” She then, in an unexpected move touched his shoulder. “She’d be proud of you.”

Part 3

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @lau219 @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest @wannabeperfectionists-blog @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @skydysneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactic3a (can’t tag) @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @ietss @abaker74 @natalie--rushman @elliaze @justrainandcoffee

#that’s what Cill said #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fics #peaky blinders fan fiction #polly grey imagine

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wttcsms · 7 months

Text

time, mystical time (cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine) ; simon "ghost" riley.

pairing simon "ghost" riley x f!reader word count 3.3k synopsis snapshots of the defining moments in ghost's life. content contains slight angst, mild descriptions of alcohol abuse (ghost's father) + domestic abuse (non-explicit desc., but the act itself is mentioned various times), a bit of tiny look into my take on ghost's background, nsfw content, slight size kink, breeding kink, creampie, domestic fluff, pregnant!reader in some scenes, children (dad!ghost) author's notes takes place in this au & honestly is a lot more enjoyable of a read if you read that fic (+ the other connected one shots [go on my masterlist]). fun fact: simon is referred to as simon in the scenes with only you and his family. he's ghost anywhere else.

His mother had always told him that as a baby, he was always rather quiet. Scared her half to death, she would say, ‘cause he’d rarely ever cry. Even the doctor got worried when he first came out.

Looking back at his childhood — perhaps the lack thereof — Simon assumes it’s probably instinctual. With a deadbeat drunk of a father armed with a heavy hand, being quiet probably saved Simon’s life more times than he wants to admit. He’d be knocked upside the head for the littlest of reasons, shouted at for even less.

I’m the man of the house.

His father’s slurred justifications for doling out unfair punishments ring through the dark halls of his childhood home. Simon hears it while he cowers inside his closet. His room is dark because his father doesn’t believe in nightlights, and mum got slapped hard for daring to go against his wishes and trying to sneak Simon one. She thinks he didn’t see it, but Simon sees a lot more than he should. Since then, he’s been sleeping in the dark. It’s not so scary anymore.

There are scarier things that lurk in the light, anyway.

It’s stuffy in the closet, and he knows it’s stupid to hide here because dad will find him any second now. The punishment is bad when he gets to drinking, and it gets worse whenever Simon tries to hide.

A loud thump against his door makes Simon hold his breath. Then, the door bangs open from the weight.

Kicking doors open comes second nature to Lieutenant Riley.

The loud crash of the door popping from the rusty hinges shocks the poor girls previously trapped behind them. All of them stay huddled together, staring fearfully at the loud, big men toting even louder, bigger guns. The hollowed cheeks, hopeless eyes, and array of bruises on their skin makes him sick. It’s a hot summer’s day, and Simon hates that after all this time, his observation from his childhood still stands true:

There are scarier things that lurk in the light, anyway.

A bit hypocritical, he supposes. After all, he walks around in broad daylight, and he’s certainly no saint.

With the help of the rest of his extraction team, Ghost makes quick work of herding all the girls out of this depressing underground prison and out into a free world. He’s careful to be gentle with his touches, nothing more than a gentle guiding hand. Even with his gloves, he can’t be certain he’s not tainting them. Sins don’t wash away as easily as blood does.

He’s the last one to leave, but he doesn’t exit alone.

For a while, he felt a tight grip on his arm. Someone’s been clinging onto him this whole time, and with everything that’s happened, he can’t find it in his heart to shake them off. With no other distractions present, he finally turns to see who’s gotten so attached to him.

This is it.

This is the moment where Simon Riley claims his life begins.

It’s such a juvenile feeling, he thinks. Waiting for his phone to ring, wondering why you haven’t texted or called. It’s so silly. So what he saved your life? It’s not like you owe him anything. It’s his job. He had a duty. Nothing more, nothing less.

Besides, he’s an asshole. Not the type of asshole who thinks he’s entitled to your company since he rescued you, but the type where Soap and the rest of the team aren’t too surprised he doesn’t have anyone to come home to.

He can’t sleep.

It’s been weeks since he gave you that burner phone. Surely you would have called, even sent a simple “hello”, if you really wanted to. He knows there’s not much to do in that facility. He knows that you haven’t been sleeping well. He knows that he should go to sleep; he’s got an early flight to catch in an active warzone, and there’s no way in hell he’s gonna get any semblance of rest as a result.

Instead of sleeping, he’s grabbing his own burner phone off the nightstand and staring at the screen. It’s a simple enough task, really. He can just head straight to his contacts list and click the only one that’s there. Isn’t it traditional for the guy to call first, anyway? Or is he just fooling himself into thinking that you’re waiting for him to make the first move? Do you want him to make the first move?

He’s never experienced this before. This newfound, boyish anxiety. The equal mixture of both hopelessness and hope churning in his stomach every time he sees you; do you think of him as much as he thinks of you? The question is then followed by a decisive no. He hasn’t survived this long because of blind optimism, so there’s no point in indulging in it now.

Will you come back then?

You looked up at him while asking this question, and you looked like an angel unfairly punished to walk alongside man. He wanted to spend the rest of his life constructing a stairway to heaven that you could use to make it back to your rightful home. When you look that beautiful and then proceed to ask him a question, what else was he supposed to say besides,

Whenever you want me to.

Perhaps God truly is as merciful as he is all-seeing, because after a minute of contemplation and staring longingly at your contact, his phone screen lights up with the notification he’s prayed for (the only thing he’s ever prayed for, really).

You’re calling him.

And true to his word, he’s on his way.

He’s never said I love you before, and as a result, he’s too scared to make his first attempt to do so, even though you just told him those three words yourself.

(He might tower over you, but looks can be deceiving. Simon thinks you’re much stronger and braver than him, in all the ways that matter.)

I love you.

He resists the urge to beg you to say it again and again and again, on repeat for the rest of your lives.

He doesn’t say it back immediately, but he does let you take off his mask for the first time.

He doesn’t realize that the wide-eyed, awestruck, soft gleam in your eyes as you take him in, fully, for the first time is the same starry-eyed look he gets whenever he looks at you. He has a feeling you’re well aware of it, but now he finds the courage to confirm it.

“I love you.”

And with a smile that could bring him back to life, all you have to say is, “I know.”

His mask is in your hands, after all.

“You never quite outgrow it, do ya?” Tommy’s got his hands in his pockets, but Simon can still picture the wedding band on his younger brother’s finger. He had been happy when Tommy tied the knot with Beth, if not a bit jealous.

Now, though, Simon’s got his own wedding band. It’s tucked underneath his uniform, hanging from the same chain his dog tags are. It rests against his chest, in a spot closest to his heart, right where it — you — belong.

Dad’s dead. Tommy says mum cried, but he couldn’t understand why. After all, she’s the one who faced his wrath for the longest. She’s been on the receiving end of all his harshness. She’s the one who’s taken the most hits, the hardest hits. Simon nods in agreement but doesn’t tell his brother that he thinks he might know why.

Simon knows his mother is a good woman. A long time ago, his father wasn’t the man he knew growing up. He doesn’t know when the change in his personality happened, and Simon somehow feels like it’s his fault. He was the catalyst, the trigger. While she was pregnant with him, that’s when the violence and the drinking and the anger started. He knows mum isn’t crying to mourn the man he became; she’s just finally safe to grieve about the man she loved and lost. Simon hasn’t been able to face her in a while since he’s come to the conclusion that his being born was the cause of everything horrible that has happened to her.

“No, I suppose not,” Simone says. The house feels smaller than he remembers, but when he walks into his childhood bedroom, he’s transported to darker times. The room is as big as the whole world again. This room, this damn house, is his only world. He’s nine and cowering in fear again. He’s little again. He’s scared again. He wants to run away, but his scrawny little legs won’t let him. Dad won’t let him.

Then he blinks and realizes that the room hasn’t changed all that much.

Within the next week, Simon gets the house demolished and the land sold.

“Ta-da!” You present to him a knitted, baby-blue blanket. The beginning stitchwork is sloppy at best with considerable improvement the further he looks. Between every thread, Simon can practically feel the love that’s stitched in it.

“You like it?” You ask him, looking at him expectantly.

“It’s perfect.”

“Liar!” Your laugh rings through the cabin, and Simon feels like he’s being bathed in sunlight from the warmth of the sound alone. It’s distinctly yours, and he doesn’t want to be the barbarian who just takes and takes, but he wants it all to himself. He wants to catch it from the air and stuff it in his pockets and save it for when he’s in a foreign country and can’t sleep at night.

“Why would I lie? It’s perfect.” You’re perfect.

“I messed up, like, five times trying to get this damn thing started! And it was so hard to get into a good groove since Simon Jr. thinks he’s a little football player. He’s been kicking like crazy!” To prove your point, you get closer to Simon and take one of his large hands, placing it on your growing belly. He’s sitting, surrounded by tools and pieces of a crib that he’s trying to build, and all he can do is look up in admiration at you, the most beautiful woman to walk this earth, an angel too good for this world, the mother of his child, his wife, you. Your hand is on top of his, and you squeeze it gently, and he loves the way the diamond on your wedding ring glitters in the sunlight.

“He’s a strong one, alright.” Simon chuckles, feeling the way his son bumps against your belly.

“Must get it from you, then.”

That’s funny. Simon was just about to say that he’s pretty sure he gets it from you.

When he’s with you, Simon likes to take things slow. He can be rough at times, demanding and conquering you with nothing but brute strength and vulgar compliments. Like a true soldier, you take all of his transgressions in stride.

Tonight is one of the nights where Simon will indulge and finally take things slow. He likes to savor every moment he gets with you because no matter how much time has passed, the pessimist in him doesn’t stop reminding him that time is fickle, and the future is never promised.

But Simon wants to build a future with you. Simon has built a future, but he’s greedy. So, so greedy. He wants more, he wants all of you, he wants everything you’re willing to give him. The way you part your legs for him, how you willingly — lovingly — let him in, even though nature resists.

No matter how many times he’s split you open on his cock, even with the slickness of the previous two orgasms he so happily wrung out from you, there’s still resistance as the width and length of his cock struggle to slide into your cunt.

“It’s okay, love, let me in.” His whispers of reassurance are barely heard over your little whimpers. You’re nodding, trying to be a good girl for him, but the fact of the matter is that Simon Riley is incredibly too big. He is a god among men, and you find yourself squeezing his hand tightly as the first few inches of his cock make its way into your warmth.

“I know, darling.” He mumbles, but his gentle words are spoken roughly. Desire coats every syllable, and his voice is gravelly. He’s holding back, restraining himself from giving in and giving it to you roughly. His hand, so much larger than your own, squeezes back. He’s slowly pushing more of his length inside your needy cunt, and you moan at the feeling of being complete.

You don’t realize the tears that are welling up in the corner of your eyes as he completely enters you, the tip of his cock perfectly pressed against your cervix. Simon’s always been good at mixing pain and pleasure, and tonight is a testament to that.

“More, please.” It comes out like a weak, little whine, and Simon is putty in your hands. Completely malleable to your every whim and desire. His love wants more? He’ll give you everything.

Your lashes are wet with your tears, and he watches as tiny streams of tears fall down your heated cheeks. Your face feels warm to the touch, Simon realizes, as he leans down to kiss away your tears. Poor thing. You must have exerted yourself too much when you were thrashing around earlier as he refused to remove his mouth from your precious pussy until you came in his mouth.

You’re no match for the sheer strength and power of Simon, who’s built like a Greek god and probably just as powerful. You surrender to the overwhelming sensation of his cock stroking in and out of your cunt, and you’re damn near shameless in your greed and desire for more.

“Cum in me. I want you to give me another baby, wanna grow our family with you.” You toss your head back in pleasure, feeling the way his grip on your hand tightens at your words. The two of you move perfectly together; you wrap your legs around his waist as his free hand grips your hip to keep you steady.

“Yeah? My wife wants me to fuck another baby into her?” Simon grunts, doubling his efforts to ensure that his cock hits deep enough to press against all the spots that have your walls tightening around him.

The throbbing of his cock and the allure of expanding your family with Simon, with having a part of him always, even after the two of you have left this earth, is enough to send you over the edge. The ecstasy is all-consuming; all you know is Simon. You feel him to the depth of your core, his heat pressed against your own, your shared bedroom heavy with lust and love.

He loves the way your body goes slack from the intensity of your orgasm. It lets him know that he’s fucked you just the way you deserved to be fucked, filled to the brim with his cock and his cum and all his love. He kisses you hard, savoring the natural sweetness of your lips pressed against his own. He muffles your moans as you feel the endless stream of his cum spilling inside of you, the warmth of it all being almost too much to bear.

“Mmmf,” You pull back from his kiss, just so you can look him in the eyes as you give him his favorite reminder in the world.

“I love you.”

He responds with another deep kiss. It says enough. It says I love you, too, and we’re going for a round two.

He has all the time in the world with you.

He doesn’t feel any pain. That’s odd.

He looks back to the last minute. He heard the distinct sound of a gun firing, and he stumbled a bit as fate had its cruel fun and allowed the bullet to miraculously hit him in the one area his bulletproof gear just so happened to miss. What are the odds?

He looks down. A dark stain is forming on his uniform, and the spot only continues to grow bigger. He moves a hand down to where the stain is at — it’s wet. A fresh wound. Fuck.

The sentiment is shared with Soap, who for once in his life doesn’t have anything smart to say. Ghost wants to say something cheeky, then. Just to keep him calm. It worked with Tommy.

What’s the matter? Don’t worry about me. Should’ve seen the other guy. Almost had him in the last round.

The words, Ghost realizes with growing dread, don’t quite come so easily.

It’s like his brain knows what he wants to do, but nothing is going as planned. Soap is saying something, but he just can’t quite make out the words. Johnny, speak proper fucking English, why don’t ya?

No. That’s not the issue. Ghost frowns, but he doesn’t think Soap notices because of his damn mask. He can’t speak for shit, and he can’t hear, either. Actually, now that he’s really trying to take in his surroundings, everything’s a bit hazy, too. Like someone’s put some stupid film over everything, and stuff’s all slightly blurry. Just out of focus, just out of reach.

“—get you home, alright?” The words sound all jumbled up, and Ghost only really catches the last end of whatever Soap’s blabbing on about. He’s a good kid. Great soldier. Stellar human being. He mentioned something about going home, but that’s just silly. The mission isn’t over yet, get it? They can’t go home ‘til the mission’s complete.

“—don’t close your eyes—”

Home sounds nice. Warm vanilla in the colder seasons, jasmine with equal hints of something fruity and floral in the warmer ones. You fill the house with these scents, even matching your daily perfume to it. Doesn’t matter much to him, though. He hugs you close to his body and breathes in deeply, and he can still smell just you. No perfume will ever compare.

Oh, and a busy kitchen. You’re covered in flour, his son sits on the counter, his daughter in her high chair. The entire kitchen comes to life, and every time he sees all three of you giggling in unison, his favorite sound of all, this kitchen becomes his whole world. This is what he goes to war to protect.

Baby blue walls and a crib. Crayon drawings of a stick figure family. Watching his daughter’s first steps and his son clinging to your legs.

Maybe Soap’s right. Forget the mission. He should just head home.

But first, he’s really fucking tired. He’ll shut his eyes just for a minute.

He blinks a few times, eyes struggling to adjust to the light. Light slaps against his face were the cause for his waking up. A damn shame, honestly. He rarely dreams, but when he does, it’s of you, and he was dreaming about something certainly worth remembering for the next time he’s reunited with you.

He rolls over to confront whoever dared to ruin the one good rest he’s had in a long time, only to come face to face with bright, innocent eyes the same shade as his own.

“G’morning,” his son says, the words still clumsy on the two-year-old’s tongue. When Simon doesn’t answer immediately, he resumes slapping his father’s face.

“I’m up, buddy.”

The little toddler claps his chubby little hands together in pure joy.

“Dada home?”

Like a sight for sore eyes, you appear in the doorway, gently opening the door and pushing it open. You’ve got your daughter in your arms, and you look ready to scold the young boy for disturbing Simon until you realize that he’s already awake. There’s that smile of yours that Simon loves so much, the one he swears could bring him back to life.

“I’m home.”

author's note i intended for these little scenes/glimpses of his life to be the things ghost sees as he's bleeding out on the field. get it? the whole "life flashing before your eyes" thing BAHAHAHA. don't worry, he's alive and very much well, enjoying much needed domesticity with you + your little family. the last scene is him fucking u good and well, and that's the lil dream he was having. muahaha

#ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #one shot #drabble #fluff #angst #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 smut #ghost smut #simon riley smut

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i-cant-sing · 2 years

Note

What if teen reader was blind? Like her eyes are just crystal clear, BUT she’s blind. And shitty father Ethan probably doesn’t notice or refuses to acknowledge that his daughter is LITERALLY stumbling, tripping, bumping into shit and at one point, falls into the lake and he’s like “qUiT sCrEWinG AroUnD wE hAvE tO FiNd rOsE”

Now with uncle Chris, he probably has some kind of leash around her wrist for him to either gently pull her along, hold her hand, or she just stays behind with uncle Leon while he talks about his days as a cop to her to keep her mind occupied from her shitty father and Rose

You know what? You're so right. Because Ethan would 100% tell reader off for "fucking around" and Mia keeps telling him that this is just your way "seeking their attention" so poor reader is just getting gaslight her whole life.

When she comes to the village, and Ethan abandons her to look for Rose, reader is just so very scared as she stumbles with -100 vision, all while sniffling and trying not to break down. Since she heavily relies on her hearing, sometimes reader will just run straight into a tree if she hears something. Fortunately, she has Handsome now to save her.

Chris is just punching air as he looks at you through his binoculars, telling his team to keep their eyes on you as he decides to go and fetch you himself because at this rate, you're gonna be dinner for those monsters.

I can also imagine the Lords looking at reader with sympathy as she aimlessly swings a tree trunk around to fend monsters off. Heisenberg probably just grumbles under his breath before grabbing you by the scruff of your neck and telling you to "calm down. I'll help you find your sister." before dragging you towards his factory to give you some food and a bed to sleep (and maybe his jacket, poor thing has just been one shiver from hypothermia)

I can also see Lady Dimitrescu just taking one look at you and going "this. This is my child now." Before picking you up from your armpits and carrying you to her castle, softly hushing you as you try to break free.

In general, I think they would all treat you like a frail kitten they found abandoned in the rain rather than an actual human being. And as much as you deny it, you do enjoy the warmth and care they give you.

I don't think Chris would put a leash on you. Maybe a tracker or just holds your hand as he guides you through the woods, but not a leash. That's more of Ethan's thing, especially when he becomes a yandere for you and realises you weren't actually faking any of it.

Now he's got those kiddy backpack leashes you for you, plus Mia put a tracker INSIDE your body surgically (yes, you were not willing so she knocked you out). Now they know where you are 24/7.

Be happy they don't make you wear bell around the house. (They just might in the not so distant future)

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ghouljams · 6 months

Note

I just read the part about Price asking Ghost to leave the military with him and settle down on the ranch and it had me laughing my ass off at the thought of Price being all "eh you'll probably not even meet Goose, she won't bother you at all!"

When you have some time, I'd kill to see the day after Goose and Ghost have their little sleepover and are discovered by Price. Just, the pure horror I'm imagining on Price's face when he realises that Ghost was sleeping with his *baby*, has me cackling to myself. Poor Simon wishes he'd been KIA, because surely that would be less terrifying then the look on his old captain's face.

So I did write the "aw fuck this is Price's kid" ages ago, I've linked it there. But I can always write more Ghost and Price, so I'm gonna write more of them.

You leave the little back house, scurry away from the clashing energy of your father and one night stand, and Price takes your place. The door closes behind you like a tolling bell. You feel bad leaving Simon to the wolves, but you've never seen your dad so upset.

"How the fuck was I supposed to know that was Goose?" Ghost cuts, facing the silent fury in Price's eye the same way he always has, head on.

"She got my fucking name, took you back to my god damn farm, what else do you want a birth certificate?" Price grits out.

"Wasn't exactly thinkin' about that at the time," Ghost can feel the gruff slip of his voice, the early morning and late night of it. A lingering reminder of you. One he thought he'd be happier to have.

"Ghost," the warning way Price says his callsign is far removed from the soft way you'd sighed his name, "I'm-" he cuts himself off with a growl, strips his hat off his head and pinches his nose. Fighting himself over how to address the elephant in the room.

"Use your fucking head," he finally settles on, the bite of Price's voice would make a lesser man flinch. It steels Ghost's nerves, makes him clench his fists. "You even know her name?"

Ghost feels his nose wrinkle in annoyance, or disgust, it's so hard to tell sometimes. Of course he does, you weren't some barracks bunny only around for a little fun, you were- you were what he wanted to be, bright and human and so tantalizingly real. Of course he knew your name, whispered it to you enough times that the walls probably knew it too.

That isn't how Price takes his silence.

There's another short swear, a stilt of accented anger from Price as he snaps his hat against the wood door. The sharp whip of canvas jerks Ghost back to the present. His captain stares him down, weighing his options. There's no sending him back, they both know there's nowhere to go back to. The same way there's nowhere to abandon him here. The two of them are tied together in this even through the worst of it.

Price points his hat at him, keeps him down the barrel of his aggression. "You stay the fuck away from my daughter," he keeps his attention on Ghost just long enough to be sure he's gotten the point before turning towards the door. "Chores start in ten, I'll introduce you to Goose and that'll be the last you see of 'er."

"Yes, Sir," Ghost drawls, poking the bear in the hopes it'll relieve some of his own anger. Price's hand closes tight around the door handle. Even from the back the commanding anger that radiates off of him is oppressive. Ghost straightens his posture on instinct. Whatever Price was going to say he seems to think better of, tugging the door open and slamming it behind himself.

In the privacy of the empty room Ghost drags a hand down his face, covers his eyes, crouches to drag his fingers through his hair. There's a spiderweb in his chest that feels like it's splintering his ribs. His fingers are cold, the house is cold. You took all the summer heat with you, all the short warmth of his feeble attempt at starting over, gone in an instant.

He should have stopped trying a long time ago. Simon Riley is dead, long live the Ghost.

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deans-baby-momma · 1 month

Text

Anonymously Yours

Will a wrong number lead to love?

BOLD = wrong number's messages

Italics= Y/N's messages

A/N: Thanks to @kazsrm67 for being my beta for this story and also @chriszgirl92 who bullied me into letting her read it before it was posted, who actually found mistakes that had been overlooked. LOL

‘Hey girl! I had fun last night with you. Maybe we can do it again sometime.’

‘Wrong number.’

‘Girl, quit playing! It's me. Did you get so drunk you developed amnesia?’

‘DUDE! It's 6 am. I've been asleep all night. As I said before, wrong number!’

‘Oh come on darlin’. I know you didn't give me a fake number.’

Y/N's phone lights up her face as she reads the last message. This guy just wasn't giving up.

‘Listen Romeo. Whoever you met last night either gave you a random number or you put it in your phone wrong. Sorry but I'm not her.”

‘I can't believe this. This never happens to me. Well, I'm sorry for waking you up. Have a good day.’

Y/N slams her phone down on the mattress and closes her eyes, willing for sleep to overtake her. But it never comes. She can't stop thinking about the poor schmuck at the other end of the conversation.

She sighs as she re-opens her eyes and grabs her phone

‘I'm sorry for being such a bitch. It's early. I didn't sleep well and shouldn't have taken it out on you. I hope you find the girl who fooled you…..but seriously if she just gave you a random number, she probably wasn't all that into you.’

‘Yea. That's pretty obvious. But thanks for laying it out like that. And sorry for waking you up. Again.’

Y/N read the message and then threw the comforter off her body, sitting up and placing her feet on the cold concrete floor of her room.

That's the thing about living in an underground monster-proof shelter….it's always cold! Especially in the deeper quarters, like the bedrooms and restrooms.

But being in the business of keeping the world safe from what goes bump in the night, Y/N and the Winchester Brothers must adapt and overcome the inconvenience of living off the grid.

So, an old defunct Men of Letters safe house is Home Sweet Home for the martyrs.

After using the facilities and brushing her teeth, Y/N heads toward the kitchen area, her stomach growling for sustenance.

She and Sam had spent days researching and analyzing tomes, trying to gather lore on how to kill a Khiksaz, the newest threat to the population. So much so, that it has been close to 24 hours since she had eaten anything.

She was starving!

The delightful aroma of coffee engaged her senses as she neared the kitchen. Inhaling the caffeinated fragrance, she entered the room to get her fill.

Dean, the oldest brother, stood at the stove flipping bacon. The sizzle of the meat met her ears and she hummed in bliss.

Y/N loved Dean's cooking skills. He could turn the most mundane ingredients into a delectable, magnificent meal.

“Good morning sweetheart,” he says as turns to look at her. “Sleep well?”

Y/N sips the hot beverage, letting the liquid brew wake her more and warm her from the inside.

“I guess,” she answers as she takes a seat at the table. “No nightmares, so that's a plus I guess.”

Dean approaches the table with a plate of bacon and pancakes that were warming in the oven and sets it in front of her.

“Progress though, right?”

That's the thing about Dean and Y/N; they share a connection of both suffering from nightmares. Dean’s of Hell and Y/N’s of witnessing her family get murdered by a rugaru while on the annual family camping trip.

The only thing that saved Y/N from the monster who stole her family was the fact that she had stepped out of the tent and wandered into the woods to find a spot to relieve her full bladder. She had watched from her hiding place behind a big oak as the giant beast tore her mother, her father and little brother to shreds. The guttural screams still haunted her all these years later!

“Yea, I guess so,” she admitted. “But I also feel like if I don’t dream about them, it means I’m forgetting them.”

“I know sweetheart,” Dean says from his side of the table as he pours a generous amount of molasses on his hotcakes. “But I’ve told you before. Just because you don’t dream about them doesn’t mean they’re not still in your thoughts; doesn’t mean you don’t love them or miss them anymore.”

“Yeah,” Y/N answers forlornly. “I know you’re right.”

She takes a bite of her own breakfast and moans obscenely at the burst of flavor.

“So how was your night?” she asks, knowing Dean had left to search for a hook-up to take his mind off the monotony of research. “Did you find some willing girl to get your rocks off?”

That’s another thing about Dean and Y/N’s relationship-friendship; they were crass and blunt with one another. They were like two peas in a pod. And it all started when Dean came to Y/N for advice on what exactly women want in a hook-up.

FLASHBACK

“Y/N,” Dean says as he sits at the table where she had been scouring an old journal she’d found in the library. “You’re a female, right?”

The question catches Y/N off guard and she laughs. “Yes, Dean. Unless I’ve been cursed in the last 5 minutes, I am a female. I have a vagina and boobs.”

“Smart ass,” Dean says with a smile. “Can I ask you something though? Something that only another female might understand.”

“Sure, Dean. What is it?”

“What do women look for in a hook-up?”

“I’m going to be blatantly honest with you here,” she says and continues once Dean nods. “Plain and simple. To get off. Someone who knows what to do with what the good lord gave him. We don’t really care about size but if you don’t know how to use what you got, we have to do It ourselves. And while that gets the job done, it's not as fun. As the saying goes, ‘It's not topside of the boat; it's the motion of the ocean’.

“So, Mr. Winchester,” Y/N smirks as she places her elbows on the table and rests her chin on her palms. “Do you know how to use what you got?”

She smiles as she notices the blush creeping up his neck. Who knew Dean Winchester could get flustered so easily?

Y/N would be lying if she said she'd never noticed how handsome Dean Winchester is. She has eyes with perfect vision, she can see the sex appeal. But she swore to herself that she would never be the fly caught in his web.

Dean Winchester was a player and a philanderer. He didn't do romantic relationships. Something else they had in common.

Y/N found out very early in her adult life that her choice of profession didn't lead to having a partner who understood the need, the commitment to keeping others safe from attacks of the paranormal.

So, much like the oldest Winchester, she sought out one-night stands, a love-em-and-leave-em situation was what worked best.

“Awww is Dean-o embarrassed? Well, tell me this then. Canoe, yacht or cruise ship?”

Dean flips her off and pushes up out of his chair and rushes off down the hallway, Y/N's laughter following him.

END FLASHBACK

After breakfast was finished, with Sam popping in after his early morning run to mix up a smoothie Y/N and the Winchesters gathered in the library to research more about the Khiksaz.

About an hour and one less brother later, Y/N's phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulls it out and notices it's the same number from earlier with another text.

‘You single? There's not some big burly man out for my head for waking you up this morning is there?

‘No worries Romeo. Single as a Pringle over here.’

‘That's good. You seem nice.’

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at that. This morning she had been bitchy and quite frankly rude to this stranger and he just called her nice.

Sam looked up from the book he was reading, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Sorry. Just read something funny on my phone.”

As soon as Sam was once again studying what he was reading, Y/N began texting her new friend.

‘Is that your way of asking to be friends?’

‘What if it is? What would your answer be?’

Y/N left him on Read as she contemplated his question. Would it be so horrible to befriend this guy? She knows nothing about him and he knows nothing about her. It could remain anonymous and be something to get her through the boring task of research.

‘It stays anonymous. You don't ask my name and I don't ask yours. We'll keep it casual unless one of us has a bad day. Then we'll help the other out. No pictures, no voice messages, no videos. Capichè?’

‘You sure do drive a hard bargain RG. But okay.’

‘RG?’

‘Yea. Regina George….you know the bitchy bitch from Mean Girls.’

‘Are you seriously calling me a bitch this early in the friendship?!’

‘NO!!! God no! You said it yourself this morning. You apologized for being a bitch. Sorry. I'll come up with another name for you.’

‘Oh. Haha. You got me. Okay, Regina or RG is fine.’

‘Good because I already gave you that moniker in my phone.’

The rest of the afternoon consisted of researching this new species of monster and texting Romeo, as he was now labeled in her phone.

Dean was once again absent from the library after he had brought in some sandwiches he had whipped up.

As evening approaches, Sam and Y/N were still poring over the lore and taking notes. Dean walks Into the library with a whistle on his lips and his keys twirling around his finger.

“See ya later nerd,” he calls out as he heads up the stairs.

“Wrap it before you tap it,” Y/N yells.

“Fuck you!”

“No thanks.”

And then he was gone. Off to find some floozy in a bar to make him forget the awful world they live in.

Y/N retired to her room around midnight, her eyes tired and her back aching from leaning over all day.

As she changes into her pajamas She hears her phone ding with a message.

‘You awake?’

‘No. I'm sleeping peacefully. Ha! I just climbed into bed. What's going on?’

‘Eh. Nothing much. Just lonely.’

‘Lonely? You mean Romeo didn't go out and try to find another conquest?’

‘Not really in the mood. Just wanted to have a conversation that didn't lead to anything.’

‘Okay. So tell me about your day.’

Y/N laid in bed, reading texts about Romeo's job in pest control and how he hated that customers would call him in about their problems but when he eradicated the vermin there was no appreciation, no gratitude.

She tells him about her work as customer service and how she suffers the same fate.

‘The adage “The Customer is Always right” is bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit!’

‘I feel you there sister.’

The two of them keep texting back and forth throughout the night until Y/N hears Dean’s early morning return from wherever he’d been. She made a note to sanitize Baby’s backseat before their next trip.

She listens to his footfalls approaching and then continues past her room to reach his, further down the hallway.

‘God this night sucks! I just want to fall into bed and sleep. Text tomorrow, bestie?’

‘Tomorrow Romeo.’

That night, Y/N’s sleep is plagued with nightmares. They consist of the anonymous person on the other side of the phone. As the night continues the images behind her eyelids morph into more pleasant ones. Her dream guy is tall, muscular with beautiful features and a complete sweetheart; a complete and adorable heartthrob.

She wakes the next morning with a smile on her lips and an urgent need to masterbate. She sends out a silent thank you to the girl who gave out the wrong number; before making her way to the bathroom.

A week later, Sam and Y/N finally had enough knowledge and data on the Khiksaz for the three of them to venture out to the small community of Sikeston, MO and take this monster on.

With help from the immense amount of lorebooks and tomes in the library of the Bunker, they figured out that a Khiksaz was a phantasm from a tribes of Arabian descent that had been captured and stored for millennia in a handspun clay jar after the spirit ripped through the older members of the tribe and began to beseech the still infantile and juvenile members to allow it to lead them.

One of the oldest chiefs, a religious man, conjured up a binding spell that captured and trapped the Khiksaz creature into the urn for all eternity. Unfortunately, someone in Missouri had come across the container and, not knowing what it contained, unleashed the beast which was causing chaos and devastation in the small town.

Sam and Y/N had worked mercifully at creating a copy of the enchantment and found a similar vessel to once again apprehend the offending spirit.

It was a 9 hour drive that took Dean only 7 to accomplish. Once they were checked in and unpacked, the three of them set out to make sure they had what they needed to accomplish the job.

Well, Sam and Y/N did. Dean sulked and flipped through the television channels until he found an old John Wayne western to watch.

Y/N felt her phone buzz in her pocket, but she was too busy perusing the spell once again to check.

After a few minutes, Dean huffed and turned the tv off and announced he was going out to find some fun in this one-horse town.

Y/N had had enough of his attitude for the last few days. He had been agitated and snippy at them both.

“God damn Dean! We are here to get this Khiksaz not for you to get your dick wet in some strange pussy!”

“Don’t you fucking worry about where my dick is going!” Dean yells back. “I don’t need a cunt to get off. My hand works just fine. I just need a drink or twelve.”

“Asshole!” Y/N says, stepping up to the older Winchester and getting in his face.

“You’re insufferable! I’ll see you two when I see you.”

He steps toward the door, throws a middle finger sign over his shoulder and sings, “Don’t wait up.”

Y/N growls. She literally and audibly growls.

“What the hell is his problem?!” she asks, rhetorically.

“He’s Dean,” Sam tries to reason. “You know how he is.”

“Yea, he’s a giant asshole.”

Once the two of them get the spell and weapons, along with the container to hold the Khiksaz in, they decide to go find something to eat.

While waiting on Sam to use the restroom, Y/N pulls her phone from her pocket to see a text from Romeo.

‘How you doin’?”

‘Friends fan huh? So maybe I should call you Joey. By the way, that is the lamest pickup line ever.’

‘I thought it was pretty good. In the 90s. It worked a few times.’

‘Yes I tried it.’

‘An no, I’m not hitting on you’

‘I don't know whether to be pleased or offended.’

‘Why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Never mind. So what are you doing?’

‘Getting ready to head out and get a bite to eat.’

‘Alone?’

‘Nope. My brother is coming with.’

‘Oh. You have a brother? So do I.’

‘Cool. What are you doing? I thought we were keeping this anonymous?’

‘You're right. No deep seated questions about one another. Sorry.’

‘Feeling like a jerk. A co-worker of mine and I got into it and I said some things I didn’t mean and now I regret it.’

‘So go apologize.’

‘Yea. I probably need to. ‘

‘Go apologize Romeo. Or I’ll send my brother to kick your ass.’

‘You make your brother do all your dirty work?’

‘I don’t make him do anything. But anyway, he’s out of the bathroom now so I’ll catch you on the flip side.’

‘And go apologize.’

As they walked across the highway to the diner, Sam brought up the texting.

“You have a boyfriend or something?”

“No,” Y/N answers sheepishly. “Just a friend….who might be a guy.”

She waits until after the waitress takes their order before delving into the whole story of how some random guy began texting her because he was given the wrong number by a girl.

“Ouch! That’s harsh.,” Sam says. “But what do you know about this guy? Is there a reason the girl gave him a fake number?”

Y/N shrugs as she takes a sip of water. “I dunno. Like, he seems nice. And we get along. But just through text. I don’t even know his real name. I called him Romeo in jest and it kind of just stuck.”

“You don’t even know his name?! Does he know yours?”

“No,” Y/N laughs at the ridiculousness of it. “He refers to me as Regina or RG.”

Sam looks at her confused so she explains.

“Regina George from Mean Girls. I was kind of a bitch to him, like Regina is to everyone in the movie. I didn’t take offense to it. I thought it was quite hilarious.”

“Let me see your phone,” Sam says, holding his hand out for it.

Y/N watches Sam scroll through her contacts until he gets to ‘Romeo”. He opens the information tab and studies it. His lips pull into a quarter smile as he closes the phone and hands it back.

“What?”

“What, nothing? What was the smile for?”

“What smile? I’m just happy you made a friend outside Dean and I. I mean, you gotta be careful because of our line of work. But I like that you have someone else to talk to.”

“Oh.”

The waitress brings their food and the subject is dropped. Their attention and concentration goes back to the job at hand and they discuss how to lure the Khiksaz out and distract it while the incantation is said.

In the early morning hours, Y/N is awakened by Dean stumbling into the room, blitzed out of his mind. He staggers to the mini-fridge and pulls out a bottle of water, opening it and downing it.

Between the smell of booze and the aroma of some of the most fragrant perfume, Y/N can’t help but gag. Dean notices the involuntary movement and shakes his head.

He cautiously walks to the bed and sits down beside Y/N.

“Are you here to gloat?” she whispers. “I really don’t want to hear about your sexcapades with some poor hometown girl.”

“Y/N, we’re friends right?” Dean says instead and it shocks her.

“Yes, Dean. We’re friends.”

“I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to call you an uptight cunt.”

“Um, Dean? You didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. On the drive over to the bar. I called you an uptight cunt and a self-righteous prude and I’m sorry.”

“All is forgiven,” Y/N says, burrowing her nose into the pillow. “But please go shower and wash that stink off you before I puke!”

Dean chuckles. “Yes ma’am.”

Unfortunately the next day does not go to plan at all. Both Winchesters and Y/N are thrown around while fighting and trying to capture the Khiksaz. Sam ends up with a concussion but Y/N breaks a couple of ribs.

With horrible dictation, Dean gets the spell read and the monster is once again bottled up and will make the trek back to Kansas to be stored away in the dungeon of the Bunker.

Y/N feels every curve and bump in the road of the 647 mile trip. Broken ribs are uncomfortable and painful when you're lying still but Dean insists on driving like a bat out of Hell.

He is on a tangent about how the information they had to the Khiksaz wasn’t complete and they didn’t know it had powers and how it’s his fault for leaving the research up to the two of them.

Sam tries in vain to reason with his hard-headed brother.

“We don’t always know everything about the monsters we go up against. This is just another instance!”

“Yea. Well-”

“Well, nothing! This hunt was no different than when we went up against that Wendigo or the rugaru that killed Travis! What?! Is it because Y/N got hurt? Is that why you're so pissed off?”

“We all got banged up; it's not just her,” Dean defended. “You have a concussion for Christ's sake!”

“And your brooding and griping isn't helping. Let's just call it a win and move on. Please!” Y/N pleaded from the backseat. “And Dean? Slow the fuck down! You're killing me back here.”

Knowing that his erratic speeding and Baby's lack of sufficient suspension is probably agonizing with busted ribs, he took his foot off the gas.

“Sorry sweetheart,” he apologizes. “I just want to get back to Bunker to rest and recuperate. I'll go slower.”

The rest of the ride was quiet and uneventful, other than when Sam tried to fall asleep and Dean blasted Metallica to keep his brother awake.

Once parked in the garage, Dean hurried to help Y/N sit up and get out of the car and hovered around her as she made her way to her room.

“You need anything, just holler okay?”

“Thanks Dean.”

As soon as he was out of the room and the door was closed, Y/N pulled her phone out.

‘I've had a shitty day at work. Tell me a joke.

There was no response for the longest time; so long Y/N began wondering if Romeo had actually blocked her.

‘Did you hear about the Italian chef that died?’

‘No. What happened?’

‘He pasta-way!’

‘OMG! They was corny as fuck!’

‘Forrest Gump’s email is 1forrest1.’

‘That one is no better. Lol. But they made me smile. Thank you Romeo.’

‘You're welcome Regina. Wanna tell me about your day?’

‘Nah, that's okay. It was just another one dealing with ungrateful, unappreciative customers.’

‘How was yours?’

‘Honestly, about like yours. Customer called with a rodent nuisance and I took care of it. Customer never acknowledged it.’

‘People suck!’

‘Yes, they do.’

The phone was silent for a few minutes before it buzzed again with an incoming text.

‘I ordered a chicken and an egg online. I'll let you know which comes first.’

‘Ya know, I'm starting to understand why that girl gave you the wrong number. You. Are. A. Dork!’

‘You asked for it missy! I am quite offended. I'm the farthest thing from a dork. I'm suave and charming for your information!’

‘And a dork. But you made me smile with your silly dad jokes. So thank you.’

‘Glad I could make you feel better. Our conversations make me happy.’

‘Same goes for me. But I'm getting pretty tired so I'm gonna try to get some shut eye. Good night Romeo. :*’

Y/N's eyes widened as she realized what she had done. She'd sent him a kiss face! A stranger! Someone she didn't really know.

What if he took that the wrong way? They had agreed to be anonymous friends. FRIENDS, nothing more. So why did she send him that?

What did it mean?! Was she developing feelings for this mysterious man?

She thought back to just a few nights ago, the erotically passionate dream she'd had with what she imagined this stranger to look like.

She reminisced of her dream Romeo kissing her breathless, worshiping her body as if it were a temple; of how they had fervidly made love into the early morning hours. He had brought her pleasure numerous times!

Oh fuck! She was falling for him.

‘Sweet dreams darlin’ :*’

Y/N laid awake for hours, contemplating on how to handle the knowledge that she was falling for the stranger.

How was it possible to develop feelings for someone you've never met, someone you'd never laid eyes on. Hell, she didn't even know the sound of his voice.

Around dawn, she decided she would no longer exchange messages with him and as soon as her body was healed, she was going to go find some willing guy to fuck Romeo's memory away.

Of course, she was awakened by her phone alerting her that a text was waiting.

‘Good morning beautiful’

‘You're probably still asleep’

‘I just can't get you out of my head’

‘Maybe we should break the anonymous rule and meet?’

Y/N read each of the lines over and over, each time making her heart drop. She didn’t know what to do.

She began to think that maybe she should’ve just ignored and erased his first message; when she realized it was a complete stranger who had accidentally texted the wrong number. She shouldn't have engaged with him. Now she was in this predicament. Of course, this is how her life is, fucked up and confusing as hell!

Y/N silences her phone and rolls out of bed carefully. The motion takes her breath away as her broken ribs shift with the motion. She makes her way to the door and down the hallway toward the bathroom, only to be almost bowled over when Sam, dripping wet and shirtless, comes barreling out of the bathroom.

“Oof.”

“Oh god Y/N. I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, profusely. “I didn’t expect you to be out of bed. Dean said he was going to bring you breakfast.”

“That’s sweet of him,” Y/N responded with a smile. “But that doesn’t negate my bladder issues.”

Sam laughed and stepped to the side. “Yea, I guess not. So, ummm…I guess I’ll come check on you later?”

“Okay,” she says as she closes the door to the communal bathroom and shuffles to the row of toilets. As she went to sit, she realized that the mundane task was hindered; she couldn’t bend without excruciating pain radiating from her thorax.

Even though her bladder was yelling at her to be emptied, Y/N stood and studied the ancient throne. With a small shrug, she grabbed the roll of tissue and tore off a few squares of paper before pulling her leg out of one side of her sleep pants and straddling the seat.

After cleaning up-because peeing like a man isn’t as easy for a woman as you’d think- Y/N heads back to her room, where as Sam said, Dean was waiting with a tray of eggs, bacon and coffee.

“Oooh, nectar of the Gods,” Y/N says as she reaches for the hot beverage. “Thanks Dean!”

“You’re welcome. How’re you feeling?”

“I’ve been better. I can tell you that,” she answers. “I’m going to try to wrap them later.”

“I can help you do that,” Dean says as he watches her sit on the bed before sitting the tray of food on the table. “You probably can’t get it tight enough.”

“M'kay.”

A few hours later

“Dean, I swear to Chuck if you try to cop a feel, I’ll kick your ass!”

“Oh be quiet, Y/N/N. It’s not like I haven’t seen them before,” Dean teases.

And he was right. On a couple occasions the eldest Winchester had been witness to Y/N’s top half of her body exposed; whether it’d be walking into the bathroom as she was exiting the shower or when she got wasted at that bar the three hunters visited and she flashed the whole crowd as she finished singing “Natural Woman” by Aretha Franklin; well butchered it would be a better word as she couldn’t hit a single good note in her inebriated state.

But she was being ogled by a fellow patron and was feeling frisky so after placing the mic back on the stand, she flipped her shirt up and flashed the whole bar. Her bra covered the main parts but it had been a ragged one and didn’t hide much.

So, yea Dean and Sam and half the community of Bumfuck, NM had seen her tits.

“I know,” she giggles and then groans as he wraps the gauze around her torso tightly. “Motherfuck! That hurts.”

“Cry baby,” Dean jokes.

“Let me kick you in your balls and see how you feel,” Y/N threatens.

“Hey now. If I can’t grope you, you aint groping me!”

“You’re such a dork!” Y/N says and they both laugh.

“Okay, you’re all bandaged up now,” Dean says as he hands her her shirt. “Go on and get redressed.”

As soon as Dean leaves, Y/N feels her phone buzzing in her pocket.

‘Regina? Are you there?’

‘Did I scare you off?’

‘Could you please answer me?’

‘Please?’

Y/N pockets the device and heads back to her room. How is she going to answer him? Is she?

She sits on her bed and stares at the phone as it begins vibrating again.

‘I’m sorry. Whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry.’

Deciding to throw caution to the wind, she answers.

‘I’m here. I’m fine. No you didn’t scare me off. You actually didn’t do anything. I did. We agreed to be friends and I went and let my feelings take control and didn’t even realize it until I sent you the emoji after my message.’

‘I know you aren’t interested in me. I know I’m just the consolation prize for the busty brunette or blonde, maybe even a redhead, that you were really hoping to talk to and text. I won’t hold it against you if you want to stop texting. No need to meet in person to tell me.’

Y/N reads over her message a couple times before hitting send and laying her phone down. It immediately starts ringing.

Romeo calling…..

Fuck!

‘I’m not answering you.’

The phone stops ringing and then a message comes through.

‘You have it all wrong, darlin’. You are not a consolation prize…not even close! I wanted to tell you, to say the words to you. But you won’t answer so I’ll just type them. I’ve fallen for you too.’

‘Don’t just say that to appease me. I’m a big girl. I can take rejection’

‘Baby, rejection is the last thing on my mind. Will you please answer the phone?’

Y/N reads Romeo’s last message a few times before she opens the chat box and responds.

‘No. But I will agree to meet you. Work is going to be pretty busy for the next few weeks and I won’t have much free time. So, how about two months from now we meet at a mutually agreed upon place and see where this goes?’

‘Deal.’

Y/N knew that in a couple months her ribs would be healed enough to not raise any questions or alert Romeo to the fact that she fights monsters for a living and not existing in a dead-end customer service job as she had alleged to.

The next few days, Sam and Dean went on a couple little salt-and-burns, leaving Y/N at the Bunker to continue healing.

Y/N and her mysterious Casanova texted continuously, getting to know one another better and just regaling one another with childhood memories and stories.

It was nice; it was befitting for two strangers to become acquainted. Y/N still refused to actually speak to the man she had feelings for. The secrecy was thrilling to her and she preferred the voice he had in her now-nightly dreams.

To pop that bubble by finding out he had a high pitched, nasally voice would be most crushing.

Of course, she hadn't told Romeo her real past. He knew her parents had passed, but she claimed a car accident took them from her.

She felt terrible for lying to him but how do you tell someone that your parents were killed by a beast that isn't supposed to exist?

What Y/N doesn't know though is Romeo had lied to her about his past also.

When Sam and Dean returned from their latest hunt, neither one of them acknowledged Y/N or said a word.

Both Winchester stomped to their respective rooms and she heard one door slam right after the other did.

“What's gotten into them?” she wondered aloud before going back to reading the book she had found. It was an erotic novel.

Greg cups her cheeks in his hands and he leans into her, closing the distance until their lips meet. His were soft and plump against her thin, chapped ones, but the lack of moisture on her lips was the last thing on her mind. He licked the dry vessels until she obliged opening them, inviting him in to taste her.

Greg’s, Romeo’s moans filled her ears as he explored her mouth, his tongue wrestling with hers.

Layla Regina threw her arms over his shoulder and planted her hands against the back of his head, pulling her lover closer and deeper into herself.

They stumble and almost fall but right themselves before hitting the bed, her on her back and his weight pushing her into the mattress. As his hands begin wandering her body, Regina silently begs for his hand on her most intimate area. As his palm slides down the skin of her abdomen, she wonders if her prayers were heard.

After becoming so enthralled with the book that she was even substituting her and Romeo’s nicknames into the plotline she missed the sound of Dean’s boots thudding down the corridor.

“What has you all dreamy-eyed and drooling?”

Y/N jumps in her seat and slams the novel shut, internally lamenting the fact that she didn't mark her place for later indulgence.

She looks up to see Dean standing at the mouth of the hallway, a couple of beer bottles in his hand.

“Are you reading porn?” he asks with a laugh and a smirk.

“It's a romance novel, dumbass!”

“Eh, same thing,” Dean shrugs as he steps toward her and offers her one of the beers. “Romance guy woos the damsel right into his bed.”

“So, you know oh so much about this subject, I take it you've read a lot of romance novels?” Y/N snarks.

“You know as well as I do, life doesn't happen that way,” Dean says instead of answering her. “It's a lot more messier and a lot less loving.”

“Are you telling me you don't woo all those unwitting hookups you have? Not even just a little bit?”

“Oh no. I woo the hell out of them. Tell them exactly what they want to hear-” he takes a drink then continues. “Then I get what I'm after and leave before daylight. Easy in, easy out.”

“You are a real piece of work Dean,” Y/N says with a laugh. “Those poor women probably think they've finally found the man of their dreams and the poof! you're gone.”

“Oh like the schmucks you hook don't know you're a one and done?” Dean says, rolling his eyes. “I've heard them before, telling you all their hopes and dreams. I've heard them during, thinking you are ‘the best they ever had’- their words, by the way- and then you're usually in the back of Baby before Sam's even gone for his run.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N laughs, trying to hide the embarrassment of the fact Dean has heard some of her excursions. But that's what you get when you stay in cheap motel rooms with thin walls. “That was one time! And he was a clingy fucker. Always had to be touching me; my face, my hands, my hips. Hell he even tried to suck my toes. Eww!” she shivers at the memory. “I couldn’t get away fast enough.”

They both laugh and then it goes quiet as they drink.

“So, um…” Dean begins. “Girls, ahem women, don't like that? The touching?”

“No. I mean yea we love an attentive man but sometimes it just takes away from the whole experience. Touch me all you want, run your hands all over me. Play with my tits, my clit…hell a little ass play ain't out of the cards but once he's inside me, I expect to get fucked! Not just filled and rubbed. Use that dick and make me feel it. Ya know? It's inside me for a reason.”

Dean shifts and adjusts his body in his chair and clears his throat. “Okay. Okay. I get that but let's change the subject.”

“Oh is Deanie-poo getting turned on?” Y/N jests. “You got a big ole boner under this table?”

“Shut up Y/N,” Dean mutters before getting up and bolting back toward his room, his half-empty beer bottle still on the table.

Y/N shakes her head and laughs before opening her book to try to find the place she left off at.

Why is it that time crawls when you are looking forward to something?

Y/N's ribs are slowly healing, thanks to the Winchesters generous and considerable care. They both made sure she was taking it easy and mending.

Sam always made her stretch and exercise what she could so her muscles wouldn't lock up and get sore while Dean kept her fed and hydrated and in good spirits with his complete goofy foolishness.

Y/N also noticed that as time went on and closer to her “date” with Romeo, Dean began to get happy and cheerful and just completely giddy.

Not like him at all. She'd also noticed he went out a lot more than usual. Once the day was done, Dean would disappear with only the sounds of his beloved Impala leaving the compound behind.

Does he have a girlfriend? Has he met someone and is unofficially officially dating? Who is she? When will she and Sam get to meet her? Will they?

Y/N didn't put much more thought into Dean's disappearance because truth be told, she had her own secret. She was in deep with Romeo.

They had texted regularly after their proclamation and had even done a little sexting.

Nothing too graphic, just a few descriptive words here and there and talking about using and touching. But it was enough to make Y/N wet and yearn for the day she finally sets eyes on her Romeo.

‘What are you wearing, gorgeous?’

Y/N smiled as she read the words on the screen.

‘Wouldn't you like to know.’ she teased.

‘I wouldn't have asked if I didn't.’

‘I'm sitting on my bed in a lace bustier with the matching thong. I'm so lonely Romeo.’

‘Is that an invitation? Because I can be there in no time at all.’

‘Haha. I’m only joking with you. I’m sitting here in an old pair of ratty sweats and a tee-shirt that had way too many stains to be presentable. My hair is up in a bun on top of my head but most of it has already fallen out and is just blowing in my face. I do not want you to see me like that at all.’

‘So when we meet in a few days, I still won’t get to see the real you? You’re going to be all dolled up and not the picture of perfection that you just described.’

‘Romeo, believe me….NO ONE wants to see this.’

‘I do. I am going to be honest with you. I am tired of going out and hooking up with people who don’t show their true selves. Who lie about who they are, what they do….give out random wrong numbers. I’m ready to be with a real person.’

‘Wow. That is honest. And truthfully, I feel the same.’

‘Maybe getting the wrong number was an omen. Someone up there believes we are both ready for something substantial. Shit, duty calls. I’ll text you soon :*’

As soon as Y/N read Romeo’s last message, Sam was knocking on her door.

“Come in,” she calls and the tall, long-haired man peeps around the open door.

“Just got off the phone with Jody. She needs help. I called Dean and he’s coming to pick me up and head to Sioux Falls. Wanted to let you know.”

“Okay. What’s Jody got?”

“Sounds like a cursed object wreaking havoc. A couple of bodies have come up….” Sam begins to explain and Y/N pushes herself off the bed and begins throwing items in a bag. “Wait, what’re you doing?”

“I’m coming with, I’m tired of sitting here by myself. Don’t worry,” she says as Sam gives her a pointed look. “I will stay away from the line of fire so to speak. I can hang with Claire and Alex or something.”

“Okay,” Sam answers, skeptically. “I don’t know if the girls are even home. You know, Claire has been hunting and Alex….well, she has her own friends now. You might be stuck at Jody’s by yourself so how’d that be different than staying here?”

“Sammy,” she says, patronizingly. “Jody’s has windows and sunshine and warmth and just please let me go?”

“Yea I guess I can see your point,” Sam answers and Y/N pumps her fist in the air before finishing packing. “By the way, Samuel, were you calling me old? When you said the girls might not even be there? Insinuating that they wouldn’t want to be saddled with the old, hurt woman?”

“Shut up, Y/N” Sam says with a smile. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

Dean didn’t seem surprised at all when Y/N threw her bag into the back seat of the Impala and climbed in. He just nodded and as soon as everyone was loaded, took off toward South Dakota.

“Y/N!” Sheriff Mills exclaims as we all exit Baby. “I didn't expect you to come. But am I glad you did.”

She hugs me and whispers in my ear, “I sure could use another female to talk to.”

“I'm here,” I whisper back and then pull away from her embrace. “I'm gonna crash on your couch while these two help you with your case.”

“Good. Good.”

She turns to the Winchester and greets them with their own hugs. After the warm welcome, the three of them head toward the station to discuss the case.

Y/N pulls the erotic novel she's reading and heads to the park across the street and sits at a table.

Opening to the page she marked, she immerses herself back into the story. As she continued reading about the marriage of Greg and Layla, the fictional characters in the story, she began fantasizing about another wedding; one that featured herself and Romeo.

She is brought back to the present when her phone buzzes in her pocket and she pulls it out to see a message from the man she can't seem to quit thinking about. She smiles as she reads the words, remembering how she felt as they vowed their lives to one another.

‘Another day, another rodent to take down. Please tell me your day is better’

‘Not really. This seminar is taking forever.’

Before Romeo can respond, she hears Dean call her name and she turns to see him slide his phone into the front pocket of his jeans as he heads to the Impala.

“We're heading to Jody's,” he announces. “You coming?”

Y/N hurries to mark the place she thinks she left off at and shuts the book before jogging across the empty road to get to the Impala.

“Did you figure out what’s going on this time?”

“We think it’s Lamia,” Sam answers. “Bobby went up against one, years ago but he put it through a wood chipper so this is not the same one but it’s the same M.O. They look female and seduce men and then choke them and eat their hearts.”

“Ew. Well, where’re we going to find a woodchipper?”

“We’re not,” Dean says. “I’m going to pretend to be the victim and then stab it with a blessed silver knife and burn it.”

“That’s risky,” Y/N states, worry about her friend filling her with dread.

“Well…” Dean says with a shrug and the conversation ends.

They pull into Jody’s driveway to see the Sheriff having a very animated conversation with her surrogate daughter, Claire.

They watch through the windshield as Jody hugs Claire and then the young blonde heads toward an old jalopy of a car and takes off.

“That girl is going to be the death of me,” Jody exclaims and her three guests join her. “Come on in guys. I’m making lasagna.”

That night, after helping Jody with the dishes, Y/n and the Sheriff join the Winchesters on the back deck of Jody’s modest ranch-style home.

The conversation flows but no one brings up the case at hand.

Y/N notices Dean is distracted and keeps looking down at his lap and wonders if he is beginning to regret his role as the Lamia’s victim.

‘Just to let you know. Something’s come up and I gotta leave town for a few days so you might not hear from me for a while. Just know I will be back for our date. I’m looking forward to it.’

Y/N reads the message and smiles. She’s been looking forward to it also.

‘Be safe and I’ll talk to you soon :*’

After the guys go up to bed, Jody and Y/N finish their glass of wine and stargaze.

“So what’s new with you?”

Y/N turns her head, looks at the older woman and smiles.

“I have a date.”

“Oooo, tell me more. Who is he? Does he know about….?” Jody begins badgering her with questions.

“I don’t know his name. I call him Romeo; it’s a joke between us. He, uh…..a few weeks ago, someone apparently gave him a fake number and he texted it but it wasn’t exactly fake. It was mine. We’ve been texting back and forth since and agreed to meet.”

“Oh,” Jody says, looking apprehensive.

“What is it?”

“How do you know this ain’t some demon or monster just trying to get to you and the boys Y/N?

“I’ve thought about that, Jod. I’m wearing my silver rings and I’ll have a flask of holy water to spike his drink if need be,” Y/N explains. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered.”

“Sounds like,” Jody chuckles and then lightly punches Y/N in the shoulder. “You gotta tell me all about it, though. Even the juicy parts, especially the juicy parts. Damn, I ain’t got laid in forever. I need to find a man.”

They both laugh and then settle back down and stargaze some more before heading inside and going to bed.

Dean Winchester almost becomes the Lamia’s fifth victim. If it hadn’t been for his fast thinking brother, Dean would’ve succumbed to the creature’s power and be dead.

Although he was alive, it was only barely. The Lamia had sucked so much blood from his body that he was unconscious for days.

Sam and Y/N had maneuvered him into the backseat of the Impala and raced back to the Bunker, hoping to find something to revive the oldest Winchester.

While they waited and researched, Y/N realized that she hadn’t heard from Romeo in almost a week. Their date was coming up and he had gone radio silent.

Sure he had told her that he had to leave town and wouldn’t be able to text her but couldn't he at least take a second to check in?

As soon as she could, Y/N sent him a message.

‘Haven't heard from you in a few days. Are you okay?’

And then, for the rest of the day, she kept an eye on her phone for a response.

The device stayed silent.

When Dean finally came around two days later, it was much to the relief of both Y/N and Sam.

They sat at his bedside and regaled him with the story of how the Lamia was not who they thought it was but that Sam caught on pretty quickly and used the current from an old stove hookup to burn the creature before she could take Dean’s life.

Dean, as stubborn as he was, refused to stay in bed. He was adamant that he needed to get up and that he wasn’t wasting away in his room while there were other monsters still roaming the world.

Sam and Y/N eventually gave up and left him to his own devices, going to their respective rooms to rest themselves. It was tiring trying to save a life then having that same someone argue that they hadn’t needed it.

Y/N was awakened by her phone buzzing with an incoming text. She opens the message thread and sees that Romeo has responded.

‘Sorry darlin’. I’ve been extremely busy. But I’m back in town and chomping at the bit for our date. Wanna move it up a few day?’

Y/N felt her face flush. She had been excited and eager and wishing that time would move faster as well.

‘A few days would mean tomorrow. You want to meet tomorrow?’

‘Yes. Tomorrow.’

Y/N woke up the next morning, nervous but excited. She was going to meet the man she had been messaging and getting to know through texts for the last three months.

She joined the guys in the kitchen for breakfast and then headed back to her room to determine what she was going to wear.

What do you wear when meeting someone new? She knew him, she thought, but she had yet to see him face to face or even hear his voice.

What if he was not at all what she’d been picturing all this time? What if they meet and one (or both) of them weren’t completely different from what the other thought?

She chose her nicest pair of jeans; nicest meaning they weren't covered in monster blood and guts and other bodily fluids of the creatures she has murdered.

Next, she chose a nice flowy camisole that wasn’t so low cut it showed much cleavage but low enough to show off her chest. Over that she wore a fitted leather jacket with the fancy schmancy silver buttons.

She slid the silver and turquoise necklace on with the matching silver ring, that way if Romeo went in for a hug instead of a handshake, she could still test if he is a werewolf or skinwalker and she had a vial of holy water in her purse to confirm he wasn’t a demon.

As she was finishing her makeup she heard Dean walking past her room, a whistle on his lips.

“Why is he in such a good mood?” she wondered out loud then went to look at her reflection once more.

By the time she got to the garage, the Impala was gone. Y/N was glad because she did not want to explain to Dean why she was borrowing one of the many cars there.

She chose an older model black Ford Mustang because it was one of the few inconspicuous cars they owned. Heads wouldn't turn at the sight of it rolling down the street, unlike the Bel-Aires and the Fairlanes would.

She didn't want to bring attention to herself for a set of wheels that should be in a museum somewhere.

As she drove toward town she hummed a tune that had been stuck in her head for days. She'd finally realized it was ‘Hooked on A Feeling’.

Y/N had no idea where she'd heard the song or even who sang it but it seemed appropriate for the situation. She was hooked on a feeling that she'd found her soulmate through a mistaken wrong number.

Once she got parked and walked toward the door of the restaurant she was to meet her Romeo, something caught her eye.

Down past the building was a sleek black car that she'd know anywhere. A 1967 Chevy Impala that if you looked closely had been rebuilt at least twice but was in pristine condition.

She turned her head to look through the window of the restaurant and her heart dropped. Dean was inside!

What was he doing here? Did Sam tell him about her rendezvous with Romeo and he was here to stop it? But then she realized that she hadn't told Sam about the meet-up.

Turning on her heel, she walked with purpose back to her car and slipped inside.

‘Something has come up and I can't make it. Sorry.’

Y/N raced back to the Bunker, parked the car and ran to her room. She flopped on the bed and let the tears flow.

How dare he be there? Finally, when life was going her way, she was going to meet the man of her dreams, Dean fucking Winchester had to go and ruin it!

Her phone buzzed a couple of times in her pocket but she didn't check it until she was all cried out.

‘Hope everything is okay. Is there anything I can do?’

‘Are you ghosting me?! Really?’

She didn’t answer. Y/N wasn’t sure how to answer. She was no better than the woman who gave Romeo the wrong number to begin with.

What was she supposed to do? Tell him that her “brothers” were actually just two men she lived with in an underground shelter that was warded to keep out supernatural beings that were out for their head? That her job consisted of continually being on some demonic radar?

Yea, he’d think she was nuts!

So instead, Y/N turned her phone off and laid in bed, wallowing in her own self-pity. She would never find a man to understand her lifestyle and she wasn’t going to give it up.

Fighting monsters and demons was her life! She was dedicated to making sure no one ever had to witness or live with the fact that their loved ones were murdered by things that shouldn’t even exist!

A few moments later, she heard the bunker door slam shut and could make out the boys’ voices but couldn't understand what they were saying. It got heated quickly though as she heard Dean yell, “You don’t fucking understand!”

Y/N got off her bed, wiped the tears from her face and left the bedroom, heading toward Sam and Dean.

“I just don’t understand it, man,” Dean says as she reaches the doorway to the library. Y/N stays just out of their sight; she can see them but the boys have yet to notice her presence.

“We get along so well. She’s funny but smart. She puts me in my place.”

“Maybe you should just man up and tell her your real name,” Sam suggests.

“No, no way. That opens up this whole world-” Dean says as he waves a hand around, motioning to the room and all the books on the supernatural they have. “She’s not like us. She wouldn’t understand. I just don’t know what happened?”

“I’m telling you Dean,” Sam says sternly but compassionately. “You may just be surprised.”

“No. I’m not telling Regina about this life.”

Y/N gasps and puts her hand over her mouth as it all comes clear. Romeo is Dean. Dean is Romeo. Holy shit! Wait, what? Like, what the actual fuck?! Dean is who she’s been chatting with via text for months now?

She thinks back to the first message and tries to remember if it came in as Dean since she has his contact information saved. But no, it was a number that came up, not a contact. She quietly runs back to her room and grabs her phone.

As soon as it turns on, she goes into her contacts and scrolls down to Romeo’s. She opens it and sees it is indeed a different number than she has saved for Dean….and his other phone….and his other, other phone.

So what is going on?

She walks back toward the library and this time she makes herself known.

“Oh hey Y/N.” Sam says with a smirk on his face.

“Hey Sweetheart,” Dean says, his tone melancholy before taking a drink of his beer.

“So, which came first? The chicken or the egg?”

Dean swallows the drink in his mouth and then slowly turns his head toward her. “What did you say?”

“Which came first? The chicken or the egg?”

“Um, how do you know that?”

Y/N walks closer to Dean and holds out her hand. “Hello Romeo. I’m Regina.”

Dean froze. The only thing that moved was his eyes, from her outstretched hand to Y/N’s face.

Time stood still as Y/N waited for Dean to catch up to what she had said. Suddenly his eyes widened and his lips opened and closed like a fish trying to breathe.

“What?!” he finally found his voice and spoke.

“I’m Regina and I’m assuming you’re Romeo from what I’ve heard.”

“You are the amazingly hot chick I’ve been texting all this time?”

Y/N nods her head and Sam laughs from his spot across the table from his brother. “It’s about time! I was getting tired of watching you guys pine for one another, and not realizing it.”

“Shut up Sam,” Y/N and Dean both state.

Dean pushes his chair back and stands up, pulling a dinosaur of a phone from his pocket. It’s a frigging flip phone for Chuck’s sake!

“What the hell is that?” Y/N asks as she laughs and watches Dean flip the phone open and punch in numbers on the number pad. “How old is that phone?”

“It was Dad’s,” Sam explains as they both watch Dean work on getting into the phone and open up the text thread. “I didn’t even know it was still usable but apparently my brother uses it to hook up.”

Y/N turns her attention back to Dean and watches as he looks at the screen, apparently re-reading all the messages.

“Well, fuck!” Dean says with a chuckle. He then turns to her and smiles. “Romeo at your service. And he is a dumbass. I didn’t recognize your number, but I do now.”

Sam stands and closes his laptop. “I’m going to go to my room and give you two some privacy.”

Neither Dean nor Y/N pays attention as the taller Winchester leaves the room, their eyes glued to one another’s, studying one another. No words were spoken for a few minutes.

“You’re Regina?”

“And you’re Romeo,” Y/N states with a nod. “I just have one question though. How the hell do you know who Regina George is? That's a chick flick if there ever was one!”

Dean shrugs and blushes. “Rachel McAdams is hot. What can I say?”

They both laugh but then Dean surges forward and wraps her up in his arms.

“But not as hot as my Regina. She can't hold a candle to you, baby.”

Y/N feels her heart squeeze around such a heartfelt compliment and smiles. “How idiotic are we?”

“Well sweetheart, this idiot has fallen for you.”

Y/N’s phone slips out of her hand and her arms wrap around Dean’s neck. “It’s a good thing I’ve fallen for you too then.”

They stand there, wrapped up in each other just taking it all in.

“Can I kiss you now?” Dean asked and Y/N nodded.

He slowly leans in, their eyes glued to one another's until at the very last second he glances down to her lips.

As soon as their lips touched, it was like everything became clear. The world had been dark and gray and now it was bursting with vivid color.

Dean licked against the seam of her lips, begging for entry and Y/N immediately granted him access.

When the need for air became necessary, they pulled apart but not before Dean placed his forehead on hers and smiled.

“Who knew love was right under my nose?”

“Well, here it is,” Y/N says as she tightens her hold on the older Winchester. “Who knew we belonged together? Now take me to bed!”

@spnbaby-67 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @supraveng @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @deanwithscissors @raisinggray @fanfic-n-tabulous @hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @purpleeclipseeggsland @kmc1989 @leigh70

#dean winchester #y/n #sam winchester #Anonymously Yours #angst #fluff #smut-ish #Supernatural

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iamslikesthings · 4 days

Text

Wait @buckstommy this is your fault.

But Chris trying to be a vlogger. Gamer probably, he wants a twitch stream. And sometimes his friends watch.

And poor poor Chris keeps having to be like "guys, please stop telling me my dad's hot"

He has to block #dilf and #bilf (Buck I'd like to fuck, after he explains that Bucks not his dad. But he's not Not his dad) from the chat.

He builds houses in Minecraft and you can see hear Eddie telling him that Buck will give him a lift tomorrow. And Chris jokes he can never be a fire fighter cause he likes sleep and the shifts are weird. And then he has to drop that his dad and Buck are firefighters.

He plays Geometry dash and Buck comes in to say hello in a nice shirt and Jacket. Chris pauses his game, to greet Buck. "I'll be back in a minute. Go piss or something" He says before pausing the stream and swiveling round in his chair.

"Hey Kid, how- how you doing today? I mean, good day at school? Sorry I didn't mean to interrupt your game. I'll be out your hair."

"Shut up Buck"

"what"

" sorry. Shut up. I know you were on a date"

"oh. Don't worry about it Chris. Pepa needs your dad right now. Besides you guys have HBO and I don't"

"Where is your date?"

And again Bucks face freezes. Eyes wide "what?"

"you were on a date..." Buck nods "where are they? Did you leave them in the car with the window down?"

"Chris!"

"...do they have leftovers?"

Bucks eyes go wide like a deer in the headlights. Then he seems to snap back into his brain, straightening up from where he was slouched against the wall. He raises his hand, swings open the door and reveals...Tommy standing behind the door, holding a plastic bag. Tommy waives awkwardly " Hi Chris". Buck shuts the door again. He doesn't seem to know what to feel. Or what to do with his face.

Chris pushes himself out of his chair and towards Buck. He wraps his arms around Buck, nearly around his neck. He'd never say it outloud but he misses when he was little and Buck could swing him around in a hug. But now he leans his weight onto Buck. "Are you done with basketballs now?"

Buck laughs wetly. "You are exactly like your father." Chris preens a little.

"He knows?" is sighed as Chris leans back.

Buck nods, and Chris notices the small smile that tucks Bucks smile into the corner of his mouth. "He knows". They smile at each other for a moment before breaking back to where they came from.

"I'll leave you to your game" Buck turns to leave the room as Chris sits back in front of his game. "Hey Buck!". A few watchers with fast internet and good hearing may catch "I love you. Thanks for everything"

The rest might catch "Love you too kid. Thanks for everything"

#evan buckley #9-1-1 #911 spoilers #evan buckely #christopher diaz #7x5 #not really #bucktommy

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babygirlbenji · 2 years

Text

Hottest D.I.L.F - Pierre Gasly

A/N cat finally published a fic after seven months, who cheered !! anyway this is my first pierre fic and i'm lowkey proud of it ??? sry there's not rly much 'dad!pierre' but maybe it could b a series?? if u know what i mean?? anyway let's get into it!!

It really was not very often that Pierre was home. With his hectic schedule, he was away for days, sometimes even weeks. It was very hard for you, especially when you first got together just over five years ago, but even harder now that you had an 18 month old daughter to think about.

However, there was no doubting Pierre’s devotion to you and little Amélie. Any chance he got to take his girls to a race and show his baby off to his fellow drivers, he took it with both hands. Amélie had come to be a regular in the paddock, and all the drivers loved meeting and interacting with the little girl.

When Pierre was home, though, it was like everything that had happened in your lives before you met had led to this exact moment. The laughs you shared, the stories you told, the love you had for both each other and the little human you created… it was like something out of a fairytale. Many happy evenings were shared on the balcony in your home near Nice, Amélie fast asleep in her cot with you and Pierre sharing a glass of wine (for him) and a soft drink (for you, as you were still breastfeeding) only a few metres away.

One such day, during the summer F1 break, your work day had been… less than ideal. You worked at a high-end restaurant as an events co-ordinator, and your customers were infamous for being very difficult and demanding. You’d spent the first half of the day trying to persuade one client to not use one caterer (who was notorious for either poor food quality or just not turning up at all), and the other half of the day trying to persuade a colleague that a collaboration between the two of you would be highly beneficial. Much to your chagrin, neither venture had gone in your favour.

Fumbling with the keys to your home, you unlocked the door and kicked your heels off, dumping your bag on the small dresser by the front door. You made a mental note to yourself to check your files at the weekend.

The house was eerily quiet. Normally, when Pierre was home and looking after Amélie, your home would be vibrant with the giggles of a daughter laughing at her father doing some weird shit, or her bouncing away in her bouncer while he played F1 2022 (while stealing glances every few seconds to make sure she was okay).

Today, though, the halls were silent. No baby giggles, no goofy dad jokes, and definitely no sounds of pixelated Formula 1 cars.

‘Hello?’ you whispered. You made your way through the hall, before coming across the sweetest scene you had ever witnessed.

Pierre and Amélie were stretched out on the floor, on her baby mat and below her mobiles (of F1 cars, of course), both fast asleep. She was on her back, arms lazily flopped on the floor above her head, while her father was on his side; he probably fell asleep like that to make sure that she fell asleep before he did, as he hated sleeping on his side.

You whipped your phone out and took a picture of the scene in front of you, before quietly stepping forward and gently knocking Pierre’s foot with your own.

‘Oi.’ Another nudge with your foot, slightly harder than the last time. ‘Don’t make me mimic Daniel and yell your name obnoxiously loudly.’ The Frenchman finally stirred, looking around blearily to see who had dared wake him from his slumber. You did feel a bit bad, as the season was a few days away from getting underway again, but you wanted to spend some time with your husband before your daughter woke up from her sort-of-planned nap.

‘Bonjour, amour,’ he mumbled as he got up to wrap his arms around you. ‘Good day?’ You shrugged, relishing his embrace. Your head instinctively rested on his chest and you let out a contented sigh.

‘Typical rude customers, typical crusty old boss. What else is new?’ Pierre chuckled. He broke apart from the embrace slightly to cup your face with his hands.

‘Quit. I’ll support you.’ You made a face.

‘I’m grateful for the offer but you know I like being independent.’

‘Go part time at least.’ It was indeed tempting, and you had thought about reducing your hours, but that was a conversation and a decision for another day. Right now, you had a husband to catch up with and dinner to make together. You stood up on your tiptoes to give him a gentle kiss.

‘I’ll think about it. What do you want for dinner? We’ve got some lasagne leftovers, or I can do a pasta bake with something, or we could order in, or…’ Your sentence was interrupted by your daughter stirring on her floor mat, obviously recognising her mother’s voice. ‘There’s my little star, how are you, Ammy?’

As Pierre watched you pick up your baby and hold her close to your chest, his heart swelled with love for his girls. He had known since the moment he met you that you were the one for him, but there were several moments that stuck out to him in which he knew that he was going to spend the rest of your lives together, and one of those moments was six months before he proposed to you, when you had just given birth to Ammy.

‘Je t’aime, amour,’ he whispered to you. Your eyes met and you shared a sweet smile, before your attention returned to Amélie, who had started fussing.

‘Bonjour, my little petal, how are you?’ You gently lifted her out of her bouncer and into her chest. She giggled at the attention from her mother, playing with your hair with her tiny fists. ‘Ow, ow, darling, that hurts.’ Though your words could have come across as scolding, your gentle laughs as she figured out the texture and waved your hair around negated the slight pain as she pulled the strands from your scalp.

Pierre watched, completely transfixed by his two favourite girls. He’d always wanted kids, especially a daughter, but this was a million times better than what he had ever imagined.

After you had had dinner on the sofa watching a new season of Below Deck, you tucked Amélie into her cot and put her little nightlight on. You said your usual goodnights to her, as you gently kissed her soft baby hair on the top of her head. She smelled of her baby lotion, of vanilla and fresh laundry. It was one of your favourite smells.

‘Goodnight, my angel, mama and papa love you so much. Sleep tight.’ You closed the door as quietly as you could.

‘Amour, where are you?’ Pierre’s voice chimed in from your master bedroom.

‘Just coming, darling, I’m just down the hall,’ your voice softly echoed down the hall. Pierre was always the protective type, especially when you joined him in the paddock, but since you had Amélie, his protectiveness had grown tenfold. If you were just at home, though, it was probably just him being a clingy bastard (not that you really minded).

You joined him in the huge four-poster bed, snuggling into his side. It was moments like this you missed the most; just you and him, alone from the world and having some time to yourselves. You loved Amélie, of course you did, but every couple needs time just for each other.

‘Would you prefer it if I was here more?’ Pierre’s question made you sit up and look at him, bemused.

‘What do you mean, babe?’ He shrugged.

‘I’ve just… I’ve been thinking about it and maybe it’s time for me to quit F1.’ Your face must have conveyed how shocked you were at this revelation, because he ploughed on. ‘Well, Amélie’s getting older, I don’t want to miss any more than I have, and I can always do reserve driver positions for teams or be a pundit like JB. I have three driver’s championships now, I doubt I’ll be short on offers. Plus I can be the hot… hot… what do you say? About JB?’ You started giggling when you realised what he meant.

‘DILF, babe, and you’d be the hottest DILF in the paddock. But it’s not a decision you have to make right away.’ He nodded, accepting the fact that you were both tired and needed some rest. Like you said, it wasn’t a decision that needed to be made right away. All you needed to do know was bask in each other’s company, safe in the knowledge that all the two of you would ever need is each other.

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly fanfiction #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly smut #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 imagines #alpha tauri #pierre gasly x oc #f1 2022

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myocsfanfictions · 5 months

Text

South Side Story

Shameless Fanfiction Season 1

Desna Hills has come living in the Southside of Chicago four years before. Taken in by Kev and V, Desna is close friends with the Gallaghers. Let's see how this Southside story unfolds.

MASTERLIST

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Chapter 10

They were all in the Gallagher’s living room, every each one of them was talking at the phone, asking to whoever they could reach if they had either spoke or seen Frank.

Desna had been calling every single person she had on her phone, but no one had come across the man. She didn’t know how to take that information; it could be a good sign that maybe he was just passed out under a bridge or at the side of the road, maybe in an old abandoned house, he did that sometimes. But it could even mean that if he hadn’t be seen it was because he could be dead as well.

Suddenly a noice made them all turned towards the window just to see the phone V was using being pulled back from out the window.

“Motherfucker!” Veronica exclaimed before running out of the house. Probably Kev had woken up.

“Anything?” Fiona asked.

But nobody apparently had seen Frank since the night before. How was it even possible? He was loud, rude and bothersome, someone must have seen him.

Their attention was caught by Debbie that started to cry. Poor baby, even if her father was an asshole she could not stop loving him. Desna walked closer to her as Fiona tried to sooth her, “Don’t worry Debs,” she said, “We are going to find him.”

Desna was really hoping that Frank Gallagher hadn’t died on his kids.

“We split up,” Fiona said looking at all her siblings, “All the regular spots, okay?”

Desna’s phone buzzed in her hand to alert her that someone had just send her a text.

“Shit,” she muttered, before walking to Fiona, “Fi, I’m sorry, Kev asked for me to help him today,” Fiona touched her arm, shaking her head.

“It okay, you’ve done a lot,” she said, and Desna touched her hand to try and give her comfort.

“The Alibi is a regular spot,” Desna said trying to sound encouraging, “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

“Thank you,” Fiona said before turning towards her sibling to decide where they would have to go. Desna took her bag and jacket heading to the door, but as she did she didn’t miss the look that Lip was giving her. He had his arms crossed as he observed her, but when their eyes met he turned away, giving his attention back to his sister.

“Finally!” Kev exclaimed as Desna entered the bar, frowning at his tone.

“Whoa! What got you all worked up?” She asked as she put her bag down, behind the counter.

“Bills get higher, no fucking phone, had a fight with V, want for me to go on?” Kev answered as he moving past her to go the back of the bar.

“Then go home, fuck her and come back with less steam!” Desna protested, before noticing her colleague looking at her, “Hey Jess,” she greeted with a small smile.

“Someone is nervous,” the woman said owning a glare from Desna, that took a rag to go and clean some tables. She looked around to study the face of all the customers: Tommy drinking at the counter, Billy sleeping on the counter, four man laughing loudly in the corner of the hall, a woman drinking her beer, her eyes glued on the TV, clients waving to Desna’s direction to make an order, but there was no trace of Frank Gallagher.

“Jess?” Desna said walking back towards the counter. The woman looked up as she was cleaning a glass.

“What?”

“Did you happen to see Frank Gallagher today?” She asked. Jess seemed to think about it, but then she shook her head.

“No, didn’t see him,” Desna scoffed, before thanking her. She took a look at her cellphone but there were no calls or texts. It was becoming worrying. How could it be possible that no one had seen the man. Where the fuck was he? Did he left the fucking country?

“Des! Clients!” Kev shouted and Desna turned to him with wide eyes.

“The fuck, Kev!” She argued back, “You wanna argue with me as well?”

“Can we stop thinking about fucking Gallaghers for a day or two?!” He asked in exasperation.

“That’s why you argued with Veronica?” She asked.

“Take orders! I love you!” Desna looked at him with a frown.

“Jeez, calm down man…” she said walking towards the clients.

She had worked for two hours, checking her phone as often as she could, but there was no sign of the Gallaghers. She could not believe she was actually worried about Frank Gallagher. She had never liked the man. Selfish and narcissist, leaving his children with no money, but spending everything that he had on alcohol and drugs. Parents that didn’t act as such was one of the things that Desna hated. Nobody forced anybody to have kids, just don’t fucking have them if you have to make them struggle all their life.

Suddenly the door of the Alibi opened, revealing Lip entering with Karen on his heels, aggressively throwing Kev’s cellphone on the counter.

“What the fuck Lip!” Desna exclaimed, but Lip was glaring angrily at Kev.

“You can shove your phone up your ass, alright?” He said, “No more freebies from me like doing your taxes every April, because you can’t understand the instructions!”

“You didn’t want him to use your phone?” Desna asked Kev in disbelief, that stutter without answering.

“Fucking asshole.”

“Hey! Don’t talk to him like that!” Desna argued moving towards Lip, that glared at her too. But before he could answer Kev talked, arms raised up.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey take it easy, all right?” He said moving to the front of the counter, Lip turned to look at the man, that was now using his usual laid back tone, “Look, Frank isn’t far, okay? He never goes far?”

“I know, but it’s last Friday,” Lip explained, his tone much calmer.

“Last Friday?” Kev asked, “So what?”

“Kev, the disability check,” Desna explained, “This is the check day,” finally realization got him.

“Oh Jesus! Fuck me!” Kev exclaimed “Jess! Frank Gallagher, did he leave with anybody when we kicked him out last night?”

“Name me one person who would be caught dead with him in that condition?” Jess answered, and Desna’s eyes immediately move to Lip, who turned away from biting his lips.

“Steve was definitely gone by then, so Frank wasn’t with him,” Kev thought out loud before turning to the costumers “Hey, anybody seen Frank the Plank?”

“Steve?” Asked Desna.

“W-which Steve?” Lip asked looking at Kev.

“‘Steve’ Steve. Fiona’s new Steve,” Kev answered. Then Karen move forward.

“In here?” She asked.

Kev nodded, “Talking to your dad. Friendly enough.”

“What time?” Desna asked and Kevin though about it for a moment.

“Hours before closing,” he answered. Lip for silent thinking about it for a moment, before starting to walk towards the door.

As he made a step, Desna talked “If you need anything-“

“Don’t worry about it,” he answered avoiding her gaze, “Karen.”

“Thanks, Kev” she said with that annoying fake sweet tone, then she tuned to Desna, “See ya.”

Desna ignored her, finding herself looking at the ground, turning only when she heard the door close.

“Sweet, Jesus,” she heard Kevin say, “I didn’t understand it was that bad,” Desna was fighting the tears that where threatening to fill her eyes.

“Don’t worry, Kev,” she said walking back behind the counter abounding to look at Kevin.

“Have you heard?” A man shouted entering the bar, “A body has been found under the EI!”

Blood froze in Desna’s veins as she and Kevin share a look of dread. What if it was Frank?

“Shit…” Kevin muttered.

“Kev, we have to tell them,” Desna said and the man nodded immediately.

“Take your things,” he said at her that rushed to her belongings as Kev turned to Jess.

“I’ll leave it to you,” he said opening the door so that Desna could ran out.

“You think it’s him?” Desna asked as her and Kev made their way towards the Gallaghers, “I mean, could it really be him?”

“I don’t know, bug,” he said, his body tense. The chances that the body was Frank Gallagher were high; nobody had seen him in more than twelve hours, nothing. Frank was an asshole but his kids cared about him: Fiona was going out of her mind, Debbie cried and Lip…

She just hoped that it was not.

“Hey,” Kev announced their entrance, immediately moving towards V, “Can I talk to you for a second?” Desna’s gaze fell first on Debbie, sitting on the coffee table sobbing surrounded by her siblings, then she noticed Lip and Karen in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. They had probably just arrived. Desna wondered if Lip had already talked to Steve, since he was in the house with them.

“They…” she muttered getting everyone’s attention, “They’ve found a body under the EI.”

Their faced all paled as they looked at her.

“When?” Fiona asked, getting up, her voice shaking.

“N-not so long ago,” Desna said.

“We… we gotta go,” Fiona said turning to her siblings, “Get your things, we have to go,” they all started to get their jackets and as they were ready they started to exit the house. As Lip passed by her, they look at each other silently. He bit his lips, trying not to show his worry, but she knew he was. Her hand moved to his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. Lip nodded his head lightly before walking out followed by Karen. The two girls shared a glare, but they didn’t say nothing to each other, too busy to follow the group to see if the body was actually Frank’s.

They ran all the way to the EI, they saw the police already making the measurements. Desna could see the body as she put her hands on Carls shoulders standing in front of her. From where they were it was not possible to see the face, his clothes could resemble Franks though and that made her pull Carl close to her. When she saw the forensic medic getting closer to the body, her breath got stuck in her throat. Then he finally turned the body and Desna closed her eyes as everyone screamed with joy.

It was not Frank Gallagher.

Carl turned in her arms hugging her around her waist, and she immediately hugged him back with a little smile. Turning to find Lip glancing in her direction. Her lips moved in a small smile, and he gave her a little nod, his gaze finally more relaxed.

Frank Gallagher wasn’t dead. Then where the fuck was he?

******

Tag List: @th3h0nkz @aunicornmademedoit

If you liked it, plerase leave a ♥️ and reblog!

#shameless imagine #shameless fanfiction #shameless smut #shameless #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher x oc #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher #fiona gallagher #ian gallagher #carl gallagher #debbie gallagher #liam gallagher #frank gallagher #veronica fisher #kevin ball #smut

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mrsamaroevans · 1 year

Text

Meet Me In The Afterglow

Fandom: Mayans M.C.

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x Female Reader.

Request: No.

Words: 3,255.

Warnings: Talk about pregnancy.

A/N: English is not my first language, so, sorry if there are grammar mistakes or if the redaction is poor. *Gif from shadesalvarez. Sorry I had to save it but my phone and laptop stop working whenever I want to look for a gif*

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

Put you in jail for something you didn't do. I pinned your hands behind your back, thought I had reason to attack, but no.

You barely gave him the chance to talk.

Everything was pretty clear; how late he came home, all the cancelations to your dates, his empty chair at lunch and dinner. Everything told you that your husband was cheating. Absolutely everything.

And then that rumor: Miguel and Palomo were spending time together, there was even a picture. That was the moment you couldn’t stay without saying anything. Not anymore.

“I told you Potter wants her compromised,” Miguel said when you confronted him about it.

“And what better way than sleeping with her, right?”

Miguel left what he was doing. His shirt was opened not being able to finish undressing after your words.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He asked. He looked furious, probably as furious as you were. It was never a good combination.

“Miguel, please… You think I’m dumb?” You got up from bed and walked towards him just a few steps. Miguel didn’t take his eyes off you, but he didn’t say anything “You think so?”

“If you really think I’m sleeping with her, then maybe you are.” He said, sarcastically.

“Fuck you.” You told him, walking to your side of the bed again.

“Amor… I don’t know where you got that from…”

“You really don’t know?” You asked, turning back to him “This is the first time in a month that you’re here early… all you do is be out… with her… there are days you don’t even come home to sleep.”

“That doesn’t mean…”

“Shut up!” You cut him off “Don’t you even try to minimize what I feel… don’t you even think about it.”

“I’m not… You don’t trust me?” Miguel seemed confused. He was looking for the right words to say, but he didn’t find them. It was the first time you saw him running out of words.

“How?” You asked “How do you want me to trust you when you don’t talk to me? You don’t come home, I never know where you are, you don’t pick up my calls…” your eyes filled with tears so you needed to pause for a few seconds “Would you trust me if this was the other way round?”

Miguel didn’t say anything. You knew he wouldn’t ‘cause you knew the answer. For goodness sake, Miguel loses his mind for less than that.

“Thank you for coming early today ‘cause I’ve been wanting to tell you something… this is not what you vowed at the altar, so… if this continues like it’s been, I don’t want it. I’ll leave and I’ll take my children with me… oh yeah, I almost forget it...” You shook your head and reached for the cabinet on your bedside table “Congrats…” You told him, handing him the white envelope “You’re gonna be a father for the second time.”

Miguel didn’t open the envelope. He was too shocked, but he got a hold of your hand before you could walk away, nevertheless, he couldn’t say anything.

“I’ll take another room…” You told him “Goodnight.”

And you left him alone.

Three days later, Miguel still hadn’t talked to you. If he had to go out of the house, he asked someone to tell you and if by any chance you two find each other around the house, he never said a word. But that night he was home early. You heard him walking to your shared bedroom and closing the door. But somehow, you couldn’t fall asleep so you took your nightgown, and your phone and went out to the pool with a giant glass of cranberry juice.

What a goddamn moment to be pregnant.

Surely your brain needed something stronger than a simple juice.

The night was quiet and cool. Time went by hearing the crickets sing and looking at the moon twinkling on the water of the pool. You were so inside your brain that you didn’t hear Nestor’s steps when he got close to you.

“Nestor!” You said, one of your hands on your chest for the surprise “You scared me.”

Your husband’s best friend smiled and with the look he threw at you, he asked for permission to sit in the same armchair. You nodded immediately.

“Are you okay?” He asked once he got a seat.

“Yeah, why are you asking?”

He shrugged.

“I have seen you and Miguel”

You rolled your eyes.

So that was it.

“Miguel sent you.” You didn’t ask. It was Obvious. Nestor does everything Miguel says.

“No…” He said, sounding convincing “He told me about your worries, though.” Nestor was silent for a couple of minutes just like you did “Miguel’s no cheating on you…”

“Nestor… stop.” You cut him off “We’re friends but I know your bond with Miguel is stronger, I know where your loyalty lies and it’s with him, not with me…”

“You’re right,” he nodded “Miguel is like a brother to me.”

“And that’s why you’d cover his lies—”

“And that’s why I’m here,” he corrected you. He had a little teasing smile on his face “If he was cheating on you —which he’s not—, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t tell you a thing.”

You thought about it. You remembered when Miguel was going to propose to you. You knew it, you had suspected it from weeks before and you tried to get information out of Nestor but he never told you a single thing. He even avoided being left alone with you. Or that time when Los Olvidados took your son and Miguel did something he told you he wouldn’t. Nestor ran away from you every time he saw you and it didn’t matter how insistent you were; he didn’t tell you anything.

Maybe his loyalty was with Miguel and maybe he was gonna cover him forever, but he was right. If Miguel was really cheating on you, he wouldn’t be there. You were his friend too.

“Miguel knows he’s been away for too long…” Nestor added “But it has nothing to do with an affair…”

“Then where is he?” You asked looking at him “Where is he when he comes home late, when he doesn’t come home at all?”

“He’s been dealing a lot with Potter… and wait… how many nights he hasn’t come home?”

You tried to remember but you couldn’t think more than once.

“Like… two?”

“Just once.” Nestor corrected you “Listen, I’ve known Miguel since we were kids… when he met you, he became someone new and I knew that what he felt for you was real and strong.”

“You’re making me feel terrible.”

“No,” he chuckled “You had the right to feel that way, I mean… is the easiest thought.”

You laughed.

“I’m just gonna ignore that you just said I’m not original.”

Nestor laughed too. It was probably the first time in weeks you laughed that way with someone that was an adult.

“You know what I mean,” Nestor said and you just nodded.

“I fucked it up, right?” you asked, your elbows in your legs.

“I think the both of you did.”

You sighed, thinking about the way Miguel reacted when you accused him of sleeping with Palomo. Of course he was mad. You’d also be mad if he accused you of having an affair.

“You’re going inside so I can close in here?”

“No.” You told him “I’ll close, thanks.”

He nodded and smiled once again before leaving you alone with your thoughts.

I lived like an island, punished you with silence, went off like sirens, just crying. Why'd I have to break what I love so much?

Miguel, as he told you, he didn’t know why would you think he was cheating on you with Palomo. Truth was that neglected his home and family for all the opportunities he’s been having since he made the deal with Potter and Los Olvidados, but it never crossed his mind to cheat on you.

He loved you. Everybody knew it. Even people who were never okay with your marriage accepted it. Nobody could say that Miguel Galindo didn’t love his wife. It was obvious every time he laid his eyes on you. Every time he was near you. Nobody could get in between your relationship, every man and every woman knew it.

He was furious. He didn’t think the word furious was appropriate for what he was feeling. But he was furious that the idea crossed your mind. Yes, he’s not been at home lately but, where did you leave the trust? Why didn’t you trust him?

So you didn’t talk. Miguel was not in the mood to argue and he knew he would say terrible things and he didn’t want to, let alone knowing you were carrying his second child. But, he was worried about what you said; You’d leave? Take his children away from him? If he ever say that he didn’t care or that he was not afraid, would be lying. Miguel didn’t see his life without you and every day he arrived home, that fear beat in his chest for the possibility of not finding you there.

Every night, he gets into the closet and his fear vanishes whenever he sees all your clothes. O whenever he gets into the house and sees Cristobal's toys in the living room, he just sighs and smiles ‘cause that means you're still there.

A week and a half went by. On a Tuesday he got home earlier than what he used to. It was past seven and the first floor was too quiet. The fear hit him, so quickly went upstairs just to hear his son’s laughter coming out from his bedroom. Miguel calmed down and walked toward there. He needed to see him awake.

“DADDY!”

Miguel smiled at his son’s excitement. Cristobal was in the bathtub, he had foam in his head and was playing with some plastic ships. You were sitting on the floor at the bathtub’s side and had also a ship in your hand but you didn’t look at him.

Miguel had kept his distance to give you space and to clear his mind. But probably wasn’t the best decision he had made.

“We went to school today,” Cristobal told him when he sat at the edge of the bathtub not caring he could get his clothes wet.

“School?” Miguel asked, looking at you but Cristobal was already an expert at talking so he answered:

“Yes. Mommy says that I will go to kindergarten soon...”

Miguel nodded and smiled. Cristobal was about to be of age to go to school, but you had not talked about it ‘cause for obvious reasons he wanted his son to be homeschooled.

“And did you like it?” Miguel asked, wiping the foam off his cheek.

Cristobal nodded while smiling widely and Miguel knew he couldn’t deny him going to school, not after that smile.

“Can daddy dress me?” Cristobal asked, looking at you.

“Daddy is probably busy, honey…”

“I’m not...” Miguel interrupted you and smiled at his son “C’mon… is almost bedtime.” He stood up and helped his son out of the bathtub.

You gave him Cristobal’s towel and once he put him it on, he pulled out his hand at you to help you up. You took his hand, but that touch felt rare. He didn’t like the feeling.

“You’re gonna read to me?” Cristobal asked when he picked him up.

“Sure… which book do you want?” He asked.

“The Rockstar R!” Cristobal said almost at the same time that Miguel whispered another book’s name.

“The Rockstar R?” He asked, confused.

“It’s his favorite of the moment…” Were the first words you told specifically to him in more than a week, but you turned your gaze to your son almost too quickly “Baby, be good for daddy, okay?” The kid nodded and you stood on your toes to kiss his head “Goodnight, baby, see you tomorrow...”

“Goodnight mommy.”

Miguel saw you walk out of the room before leaving Cristobal on his bed to dress him, and when he looked at him, he saw his big brown eyes looking directly at him.

“Why mommy is sad?”

“No, she’s…” Miguel thought for a few seconds. He had to be doing something really wrong if his son could see that something was not completely right with you “She’s tired… she’ll go to sleep. Now… what pjs you want? Iron Man or Captain America?”

“Captain America!”

Miguel dressed his son, took him to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, prayed, and read him a book. All of that took him half an hour because Cristobal used any excuse not to fall asleep and, being away from home for so long, Miguel didn't mind about the kid manipulating him.

Once his son was asleep, he left the room and went downstairs. It was still early and he hadn't eaten. Not that he was particularly happy to have dinner without you again, but he had to do it anyway.

But when he came downstairs, he saw you in the dining room, sitting in the place you usually took, while reading a bunch of brochures and sheets.

“What are you doing?” He asked you at the same moment when you drank from your glass.

“It’s not wine, Miguel, relax.”

But he was not worried about that ‘cause he remembered how you didn’t even drink coffee during your first pregnancy even though the doctor said a cup a day would be fine. He never thought it was wine. You were obsessed with cranberry juice when you were pregnant with Cristobal, so he guessed that obsession came back.

“I meant this…” He said, getting closer and taking a couple of the sheets on the table “What is this?”

“I’m looking for the best school for Cristobal,” You said, leaving your glass aside and the pamphlet you were reading to take another.

“I thought that was something we would talk about,” He said, sitting in the chair next to you and just realizing you already read all of them. Some had a few notes on the edges or some words underlined “I wanted Cristobal to be homeschooled...”

“I always wanted him to be a normal kid.”

He chuckled “Thousands of children are homeschooled in this country and that doesn’t mean they’re not normal...”

“Miguel… our son barely has contact with other kids,” You looked at him “You went to school so did I… I just want him to have the same and then… He saw the school and the playground and I wish you could have seen how his eyes shone. I thought it would be hard, but he wants this… he yearns this...”

Miguel nodded and took some papers. You fell silent as he read the options you were considering.

He knew you were right. Cristobal had no friends and no cousins. He needed to grow up with kids his age and all those papers you had on the table just meant you were considering everything the schools had to offer, including safety, which was what concerned him the most.

“I like this one…” he said after reading everything you had written in all the papers.

“Me too.” You said, “I think it’s the best option.”

“When are you going?”

“I’ll call tomorrow.”

Miguel just nodded and stood up. He didn't expect you to speak to him again, but when you did, he didn't hesitate to turn to you.

“Can we talk?” You asked.

He looked into your eyes. Sure you were tired like he told Cristobal, but there was also a glimpse of sadness in them. He couldn’t stand looking at you that way.

“Of course.” And he sat again.

Tell me that you're still mine, tell me that we'll be just fine even when I lose my mind.

“I’m sorry,” You said. You'd been wanting to talk to him since the day you had that conversation with Nestor, but you hadn't really thought about what to say. You wanted everything to go back to normal, but you knew that, in a way, the situation you were in wasn't completely your fault, so you apologized for the one thing you had to do so “I… should have asked you first. I should have listened to you when you said you were not cheating…”

Michael sighed. He seemed very uptight and to be honest, everyone in the house was the same. There was no way they could have listened to your argument the other night, but it was obvious that they knew something was wrong. For God's sake, you've been sleeping in another room for over a week now.

“Well… I didn’t help that much, did I?” Miguel started “I didn’t say too much these past days…”

“You were mad; I understand it”

“Yeah, I was… at first...” He clarified and sighed again. You knew he was having a hard time admitting that he also had to do with the whole problem. You knew him very well. He didn't like to admit that he was wrong “Then I realized what you meant… I’ve been away from home. I took for granted what I have here; Cristobal, you…”

“And there’s a little bean on the baking…”

“Yeah, let’s not forget the bean...” Miguel smiled making you smile too, “I’m sorry.”

You grabbed his hand on the table “I’m sorry, too.”

You looked at him and he seemed different. It was like the weight on his shoulders had left and, to be honest, you felt the same. It wasn't like you had said everything you wanted to say, but at the same time, it was like no more words were needed to fix the situation. Miguel knew how you felt and you knew how he felt. He knew what he had done wrong and you knew that you had to prove your hypotheses before accusing him of something.

“Come here…” he asked you, pulling your hand. So you got up from your seat and took a few steps towards him. His hands grabbed your hips and made you sit on his lap.

Having him near felt good. You didn’t realize how much you craved his closeness until that moment.

“I love you.” He said after leaving a kiss on your cheek “Sometimes I look at you and I think ‘That’s it… there’s no way I can feel more for her ‘cause if I do my chest is gonna explode’, and then, I prove myself wrong because it never stops growing… I’ll make sure you know that I keep falling in love with you every time I see you…”

What could you say after that? When you suspected Miguel was being unfaithful, you reacted that way, not out of pride. You loved him and it hurt you to even think that he was no longer feeling the same for you... that he was giving to someone else, all that love he once gave to you.

But he never did.

His love, his heart, and all of him... was still there. With you.

“I love you,” You said. Controlling your tears better than you thought were capable of. “Let’s not do this again, please.”

“You have a deal,” Miguel said, kissing your lips. It felt the same as the first time he had kissed you. “You’re gonna sleep with me tonight?” He asked still too close to your lips.

“Yeah, but after dinner ‘cause I’m starving…”

Miguel smiled and palmed your thigh.

“Let’s go...”

Tell me that it's not my fault, tell me that I'm all you want even when I break your heart… Meet me in the afterglow.

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

#miguel galindo #miguel galindo imagine #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo masterlist #miguel galindo fanfiction #mayans x reader #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc fanfiction #miguel galindo x female reader

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passivenovember · 1 year

Text

Life is supposed to be an epic. A scroll that never stops rolling with a script that never takes a breath, but maybe Steve isn’t well versed in spotting the blank when it appears.

So, it’s best to mark his life in breaths.

The first time Tommy made him laugh so hard that strawberry milk shot out his nose and coated the lunch room table in foamy, blossoming pink friendship. Maybe that was chapter one. The first breath that made him whole. He had his second half, finally. For the first time in his life he had a friend.

The next breath he took was when his parents filed for divorce. It was a little more like trying to catch air in his lungs before a wave crashed overhead.

Steve’s father packed a suitcase and caught the train to Chicago because Steve’s mother wanted to keep the house.

He’d never heard them scream at each other like that.

In a panic, howling as their blue Mercedes pulled out of the driveway for the last time, she smashed her hand through the kitchen window.

Said it was because she was aiming to catch her wedding ring as it bounced along the counter tops, but.

Steve doesn’t remember that part.

He remembers other things.

Picking shards from her knuckles, breathing deep through his nose while his mother mimicked and shook so hard Steve felt like his lungs were going to knock loose from the force of it.

She pulled him close when the blood was gone. “You’re my protector, Steven,” She said.

“Like a shining Knight,” Steve said, even though there was nothing left to fight for. Where does the knight go when the kingdom sleeps.

Nancy gave him something to obsess over.

Her love was a chapter that brought peace. Nancy was like like napping in a filed with the sun on his face, belly full of cheese sandwiches and tart lemonade. Steve’s lungs carried air to every part of his body, making his limbs feel taught and weightless.

He got comfortable. Bored, maybe. Fell asleep.

And when he woke up, startled because Nancy had disappeared into the treeline and took all the warmth of summer with her when Steve wasn’t looking, his skin was red and sensitive. Burnt.

Steve had thought he was being helpful but it took forever for things to peel off and scab over. To become new, again.

After a while he learned to breathe on his own. He’s gotta live. And everything’s a blur, really. It’s gooey tentacle monsters and sleepless nights and the feeling of claws scraping down his throat when he jerks awake.

Startled.

Sucking enough air into his lungs to fill a weather balloon. To raise the titanic. To bring back the dead.

And it’s never enough.

But then he meets Billy, who’s name means Protector.

Billy, who’s probably the last chapter Steve will be able to discern the start of because he’s it, for Steve. He’s the binding glue that holds Steve’s saga together. He’s the protagonist and the tragic hero and the breath that escapes Steve’s lungs when he falls, bloodied, to a tiled floor in nowhere, Indiana.

The end of a story.

Steve spent every moment they were together holding his breath.

Billy spooks easily. He lashes out and then he cries about lashing out and he disappears, or he tries to, but Steve chases him while his chest contracts around big, heavy feelings.

Steve sits by Billy’s hospital bed and holds his breath.

Hopes Billy makes it out alive.

When Billy does, Steve breathes. Billy wakes up covered in bandages, rasping as he reaches for Steve over miles of scratchy hospital cotton, and Steve lets go.

Of his fears.

Of a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“What do you think happens to us when we die?”

Steve flicks his sneakers over the edge of the hospital bed as some poor nurse’s cart rattles down the hall. He’s not supposed to be up here, but Billy gets cold.

He talks more, these days.

Only to Steve.

Only to Max.

“I think we go to Heaven,” Steve answers. His hand is a weight on Billy’s thigh, a napping amphibian soaking all the warmth he keeps on offer.

Billy doesn’t say anything for a while. Then he says, “I don’t believe in Heaven,” so softly Steve almost can’t make it out in time. Billy leans back on the hospital bed, breathing harshly through his nose. “When I died--”

“That didn’t happen. I wouldn’t let it.”

“--I saw a river,” Billy tells him, anyway.

Steve remembers from his Nancy days that that’s a motif in Greek Mythology. Everyone passes down a river to get through the underworld. And there’s a three-headed dog, or something, guarding the entrance.

But Billy isn’t the kind of guy who’d believe in something like that.

“Orpheus and Eurydice are my favorite love story,” Steve says. Doesn’t mention that it was all that was playing in his head this summer, when everyone thought Billy had passed on.

When Billy blinks at him, it’s because he understands.

He’s smart. Smarter than Nancy, because he knows when to hold on with both hands. Smarter than Steve, because everyone is.

Billy sits up and leans closer. So close Steve can see green summer leaves swirling in his endless waves of blue. “Do you want to be buried, here?” Billy asks.

Steve swallows. “In Hawkins?”

“Yeah,” Billy says. Like he’s afraid of the answer. Like it matters to him.

And Steve’s smart enough not to fuck this up. “I want Hawkins to eat shit.”

“Okay,” Billy says easily. “What do you want them to do with your body?”

Once, a few years ago, Steve’s parents almost drove into a tree because the road was slick. The car was totaled and the responding officer said it was a miracle they made it out alive.

From that moment on, they never let Steve forget about it. The miracle. How lucky they were. They got a will drafted and sat Steve down on his fifteenth birthday to walk him through the specifics.

Cremation, no burial, no funeral.

Steve doesn’t like to think about death.

Billy frowns. He knocks Steve’s hand from his knee. “I want to be dumped in the ocean,” He says, like he’s expecting Steve to argue.

“From your casket?” Steve teases.

Billy doesn’t laugh.

It’s awkward. It’s uncomfortable and thinking about Billy, lying there like that--

“Let’s talk about something else,” Steve tries.

“No.”

“Why is it so important to you?”

“What, am I bumming you out, Harrington?” Billy snaps, eyes like the center of a flame. “I almost died this summer. Shit kinda fucks your priorities around a little.”

His voice shakes just enough that Steve can see through it to the root, stretching far below them.

Billy’s afraid.

He’s right on the brink of shaking apart and Steve’s not going to let that happen. Not now, not ever again.

So he crowds in Billy’s face. Says, “Yeah? Well my priorities are getting you out of this fucking hospital so we can dip our bodies, warm and alive, into the ocean.”

Billy’s chin wobbles. Like it frightens him and makes him happy in the same breath. Like he just can’t believe it. “What about when we die--”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Steve determines. He runs all ten fingers through Billy’s hair, careful not to let it hurt. “Right now I just want to live with you. I want a long, happy, healthy life with you, Billy. Okay?”

When Billy doesn’t respond, Steve kisses him. Long and slow on the mouth and then chaste and quick on his cheeks. Pecking at Billy’s face like a lovesick bird until he finally cracks a smile.

When Billy’s nurse appears in the doorway, she tells Steve to get his sneakers off the bed if he wants to keep his feet.

And it makes Billy laugh.

Steve climbs down and doesn’t say that he has thought about what will happen when he breathes in for the last time. Not to his soul, but to his bones.

He wants to be with Billy, in that great wide somewhere.

He just wants that. Love, napping with it in a summer warm field.

#harringrove #yeah idk what this is #i didn't edit either so i don't wanna hear a goddamn word!

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midnightmoonytales · 1 year

Text

𝔸𝕡𝕡𝕝𝕖 ℙ𝕚𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕪: 𝔽. 𝕎

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Slight angst, mentions of insecurity, mild argument, please let me know if I missed anything.

A/n: I tried writing this with my fellow curly-haired girls in mind. Bc yall- when people take time to learn how to properly handle curly hair and play with yours in a way that won't make your hair all wtf, in the end, is my absolute favorite.

White sparkling snow glistened around the burrow, covering every nook and cranny it could touch from last night's storm. Sounds of people's laughter mixed with Christmas Carols rang throughout the walls of the burrow. Three families all bundled up together under one roof, sharing memories, young and old. The dying flames of the fireplace crackle in the background, long forgotten. You could say it's cramped, hosting two more families on top of already having to fit seven people into the burrow. But no one would change a thing. Well... maybe Percy, poor boy forced to bunk with the twins and your younger brother, Teddy. Your fathers, Sirius and Remus bunked with your aunt and uncle, Lily and James. Said, "it reminded them of old times." What really justified how old they are, but we won't tell them that. Bill and Charlie ended up bunking with Harry and Ron, mostly to keep them out of trouble. Meanwhile, Hermione, Ginny, and you all shared Ginny's room.

Not that you stayed in there much, opting to sleep on the couch with Teddy. The fire crackling soon became a natural lullaby to you both. Sweet boy would wake you up frightened, during ungodly hours of the night complaining of nightmares that flooded his dreams. Refusing to sleep anywhere other than with you. It's been like this since he learned to walk. Not that either of your fathers minded, they had scrapbooks filled with pictures of you and Teddy.

Spending Christmas with your parents was rare, the full moon causing your parents to send you off to the Potters until it passed. They were like a second family to you and Teddy. Harry became like a brother to you, always trying to protect you even though you were older. It became a tradition at the Potter's house to make muggle Gingerbread houses during Christmas time, ending the night with a glass of eggnog.

Wanting to make the most of having everyone here this year, you and Harry convinced the others to compete in a gingerbread-making contest. The parents all agreed to be judges as the kids tried their best to win. Key word tried, of course, you and Harry had an advantage after making them due to years of experience. Assisting Molly in the kitchen early this morning to bake pounds of gingerbread for the contest.

With the delicious aroma of gingerbread baking in the oven. Everyone huddled around the living room, making room for one another. Sirius and uncle James telling everyone a story about your old professor Snape. Earning a swift smack against their heads from Lily, since Severus is her best friend. Remus recalled how Sirius got yoinked by the whomping willow because he was too cocky. Harry mutters, Father like daughter, reminding you of the time you ended up in the infirmary when trying to get one of the animals that escaped from Hagrid.

A few more stories were spread around before George spoke up. "My favorite story from when the three of us attended Hogwarts is probably Fred being caught sneaking out of Y/n's room." Groans left both yours and Fred's lips, remembering that eventful morning.

<><><>

The sounds of small pebbles hitting your window awoke you from your sleep. Growing aggravated from being woken up, you through your duvet off of you. The brash cold air stole away whatever sleep you had left in you. Reaching for your wand on the nightstand, "Lumos," muttered from your lips. With the glow of your wand, the sound of pebbles halted to a stop. Approaching your window, you could faintly make out a mop of red hair through the dense fog. It could only be one person, quickly you opened your windows. Before you know it, Fred was mounting off his broom. "What are you doing here!" You quietly shouted, trying your best to not wake anyone in your house. Swiftly closing your window behind him.

"I missed you," He grumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist. You could see the tiredness in his eyes, but it warmed your heart to see he would fly all this way to see you, even if he was tired. Reaching your hand to fix his air-ridden hair, you dragged him to your bed. Wanting to get out of the cold that was surrounding you both. It was rare to get to spend time together lately. Between George and him running the joke shop and you preparing for your NEWTS, your schedules were jam-packed. But you both made it work.

Snuggling into each other, his hand caught your chin. The smell of cinnamon and gunpowder flooded your senses. Rubbing your lip with his thumb, planting a passionate kiss on your lips. Neither one of you is in a rush-rather slow tired kisses being exchanged as you both fall into a sleepy embrace.

The sounds of birds chirping, and streams of bright light wake you up. Groggily rubbing the tiredness out of yours, "Shit," you mumble. Fred was supposed to be gone before the sun was up. Your parents were early birds, which was their normal since you were born. Rushing out of bed, your legs got caught in your duvet, causing you to fall to the floor with a loud...THUMP. Alerting your sleeping boyfriend. Trying to pry yourself as fast as you can, you noticed that your window was slightly cracked. You swore you closed it last night.

"Are you okay?" Fred panicked, quickly making his way off the bed to help you get out of the duvet.

"You have to get out of here, it's morning." You warned him. The color drained from his face. Quickly, he picked up his broom that was in the corner of the room. Looking out your window, the coast was clear. Turning around, you were met with a kiss. "Mm as much as I love kissing you," Pushing him away gently, "you have to get out of here before you get caught." Fred smiled like he had just won the lottery, mounted his broom and flew out the window. He turned around to say bye, a bright smile on his face soon replaced with fear as a big black dog grabbed onto the end of his broom. Bringing him down to the ground. There was only one person that it could be...your papa. Quickly turning around, you were faced with your stone-faced father standing in your doorway...oh no.

<><><>

"You gave the boy a proper fright Padfoot," James wheezed, bent over in his seat. Lily shook her head at her husband's amusement. A few poorly hidden chuckles were admitted from the others. On the other hand, Molly was fuming. She knew her boys were always up to no good, but she usually found out.

"You better thank Godric, Fredrick Weasley, that I'm only learning about this now," Molly exasperated, Arthur rubbing her arms up and down trying to calm her down. Whispering something into her ear, you could see her start to calm down. The bell that Harry brought Molly a few Christmases back, rang, alerting everyone that the gingerbread was done. You and Molly excused yourselves to the kitchen. Grabbing the mittens from the drawer, you pulled the gingerbread from the oven. "So... Y/n dear, do you want to marry my Freddie?" Molly asked, her attitude completely different from the one just a few moments ago. Panicked, you dropped the gingerbread. Luckily enough it fell onto the oven door rather than on the floor. "Sorry dear, I didn't mean to frighten you," She spoke tenderly.

Frighten you, that was a nice way to put it. It's not that you didn't want to marry Fred- Rather, it was a dream you had since you attended Hogwarts, but you didn't think he wanted to marry you. It felt stupid to think that way. You two have been dating for seven years now. Marriage was bound to come eventually. Especially now that you both were older. The two of you were doing well in your careers. You have a lovely home together, midway between your parent's home and the burrow. "I truly do wish to marry him, Molly," you said, separating the correct pieces of gingerbread into their respective plates.

She stopped what she was doing before looking up at you, "but?" She was one person who knew you too well. Doting on you even before you started dating her son.

Laughing under your breath, "but I don't know if he wants to marry me," You finished, turning around to continue separating the gingerbread. Your mind wanders to the possibility of him not wanting to marry you. Molly's hand softly rubbed your shoulder making you aware of the feelings of wetness falling down your cheek.

"Oh dear, that boy is absolutely enamored with you." She said, pulling out a chair and beckoning for you to sit in it. Softly but efficiently pulling your hair tie out, separating part of your hair into sections as she spoke, gently yet diligently detangling knots with her finger. "That boy has been planning on marrying you since he learned you could tell him and George apart." Her voice was laced with amusement.

"He has?" You asked, turning around to face her. Hands gripping the top of the chair. Nodding her head before turning your face forward, she continued to play with your hair. Gently pulling pieces apart to easily braid your hair into a crown. It wasn't perfect, with random little hairs sticking out in certain places, but it was you. You were far from perfect and that's okay. You don't have to be. Your hands smooth over the apples of your cheeks, hoping to hide any possibly noticeable pigment. Her words didn't take all your worry away but did ease the thoughts that plagued your brain.

By the time Molly was done braiding your hair and complementing it with mistletoe, the gingerbread was cooled. Icing prepared the night before. It was time for everyone to pair into teams. Looking for your partner in crime, you realized he was nowhere to be seen. While it was possible to lose him in the sea of redheads, everyone else was accounted for. Mumbling each person's name as you saw them. Realizing that your boyfriend was not amongst them.

Glancing outside through the kitchen window, dark clouds started filling the sky. Another storm in the midst of brewing. Yet, Fred was still nowhere in sight. Scenarios scorched through the inside of your eye lids, panic overtaking any relief that you once had. Where the bloody hell is Fred? Why would he go out now? We’re with family, why would he do this when we are with our families? You rather him do whatever he is doing behind closed doors of your home than sit here embarrassed amongst your families. Not that it makes it any better, because it doesn’t. Rubbing your sweaty palms against your trousers, hoping to wipe away the worry. A firm hand settled against your shoulder, squeezing it ever so slightly. Looking up to see both of your fathers standing behind you, soft smiles placed lazily on their lips. A weak smile spread across your lips, more so worried about wherever Fred disappeared to.

“We’ll be your gingerbread partner's pup,” Sirius said, moving a strand of hair that had managed to escape the braid. Remus hand rubbing circles along your spine, relieving some tension. Parents weren't supposed to team up with the children's since they were supposed to be judges, but since your partner is missing, they couldn’t leave their daughter by herself. Nodding, you quickly got to work planning and setting up. Choosing to make a mini version of the shrieking shack. Both holding memories, good and bad, from your parents and your years at Hogwarts. Rather than using it to change on full moons, George, Fred and you choose it when picking an inconspicuous spot to prepare pranks.

After what seemed to be forever, you all finished. Proud of your work, the shack looked just as wrecked as it was in real life. Windows hanging by a thread and the building tilting ever so slightly. James, Lily, Molly and Arthur all stood together, conversing. Going from one gingerbread to another as everyone stood behind their respectable houses. As the judges chatted amongst themselves, their final decision being Teddy and Charlie who made a wonky dragon on top of a crumbling house. While it probably wasn’t fair, you would do the same thing for Teddy. The smile that appeared on his face made it feel like you won yourself. Faintly, your attention was captured by the sound of the door opening and closing. Snow littered through his hair and shoulders, frantically trying to shake it off. Excusing yourself, you made your way over to Fred.

“Hello Darling, mmm I love the hair style,” he said, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. Shrugging off his coat, leaving it to rest on the coat hanger that was probably already too full to hang anything else. “Did you guys already start the gingerbread house?” He said, bummed. Stating earlier that he wished to partake in it.

Annoyed, you sat there for Godric knows how long, waiting for your lover. “You don’t get to be bummed when you leave without us knowing.” The feeling of being embarrassed and humiliated swelled up in your chest. Upset that your parents even saw his absence. You loved working on the gingerbread house with them, but still. “Where the bloody hell were you,” You whispered shouted, trying your best to not alert those around you. Which didn’t work as well as you hoped, everyone around going quiet. Before Molly rushed everyone into the back yard, despite the protest that it was snowing outside.

Caught off guard, “What exactly are you insinuating?” His arms crossed and his brows furrowed. He knew he had to keep what he was doing a secret but couldn’t believe you didn’t trust him. Never once in the past seven years has, he done something to break your trust. Of course, you had fought every now and then, but that's what couples do. However, this conversation in itself was absurd to him.

“I don’t know, Okay,” you said, fidgeting with whatever you could touch. Millions of thoughts were going through your head. “You go missing during the middle of the night for hours at a time.” You rambled on, expressing thoughts that have been inside your head for a while now. Your fingers picking at your bottoms as you expressed your emotions. “I just don’t know what to think, you’ve never done me wrong before, but hours at a time at night is concerning,” You stated, never truly making eye contact with him.

“You want to see where I’ve been off to at night then fine.” He said, taking off his sweater off the rack and pulling it around you. Before taking your scarf off the rack and wrapping it around your neck. His shoulders raised ever so slightly, considerably tensed. Even when he was upset, he still took time to make sure that you were all set. He didn’t have to prove either where he went but if it made you feel better then so be it. Opening the door, he pulled you through piles of snow. “I wasn’t going to do this till tomorrow, but plans changed.” He muttered.

“W-what?” You asked, confused on where he was taking you in the middle of winter. Snow falling continuously, not caring that you were traveling somewhere. After what felt like hours, and a steep hill, you made it to the willow tree you and Fred used to come to when either of you were having a bad time. “What are we doing here Fred?”

“Please be quiet, and let me talk,” he said, cold fingers pressing against your lips. “I was going to wait till tomorrow, but I’m going to do it now.” Digging into his pocket, pulling out a red-velvet case, decorated by painted flowers. “You’ve been my partner in crime for over seven years now. You never once mixed George and I up, even when we tried pulling pranks on you to believe we were the other person. You helped us open our Joke shop, staying up countless nights helping us fix gadgets that were faulty.” He spoke, getting onto one knee, opening the velvet case to show a crystal encased in gold vines that shimmered in the moonlight. “You made me feel like my own person, not just another Weasley people couldn’t name. You taught me how to be vulnerable, and how to be a better man. All those nights I was out, I was planning how to make this as special as I could for you.” Looking around you noticed your favorite flowers in floating pots and fairy lights hanging from the old willow tree. Over to your left, your whole family scattered around, smiling at you. “So, will you do the honors of being my partner in crime for the rest of our lives?”

Tears swelled down your face, all this time you thought he was out doing something sketchy he was really just planning your proposal. Before you could speak, little arms wrapped around your legs tight. “My sister,” Teddy said. Digging his head into your legs. Laughs escaped everyone, as your fathers came to grab him. Planting a small kiss on his head before your parents took him back over to everyone else.

“Yes,” Wiping the almost frozen tears from your face as he slipped the gorgeous ring on. Pulling him into a kiss as soon as he was finished. Happy that your thoughts were wrong in the end. You were getting your happily ever after, the one you always dreamed of.

<><><>

I went full time at work so I could buy a new laptop for school, and I'm absolutely drained. Especially when there only one of me and I'm getting pulled six different ways at once. But on a good note, I'm so glad I finished this.

@ghostofscarley @verygayauthor

#fred weasley #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred x reader #fred x y/n #fred weasley x you

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aziraphale-is-a-cat · 2 years

Note

So I have a concept rattling in my brain a concept to be ignored or not

Just 15 year old globe Trotter Danni being accompanied by her twin 15 year old reluctant globe Trotter Danny who together got the amity ghost infestation cleared up together and went on the run because two halfas will get hunted by the government and the Fenton parents.

So Danny and Danni run off to Gotham because it's far away from home and easy to hide in while there they befriend any of the bat boys.

I like to think tim Drake would just kinda want friends and the homeless twins are good age appropriate friends to have!

Dick grayson would probably not get the chance to talk often but would appreciate the time he did get to interact with them.

Idk why but I feel like if Bruce was the first to meet Danny and Danni he would be their age and tame them like street cats before snatching them off the street and whisking them away to Wayne Mannor to a extremely exasperated Alfred.

If Alfred met the twins first it would be very " you sure that you don't want to eat dinner with my family and have a bed to sleep in? " because Alfred would be an adult who doesn't want children on the streets.

Danny and Ellie would probably be just some street kids Jason interacts with because he has a soft spot for street kids.

Damian takes after his father in picking up sad little meow meows off the street and would also tame the street children like cats and take them home to a extremely exasperated Alfred and Bruce.

I'm not familiar enough with the rest of the batfam to think of interactions

Jason would 100% just look at those poor kids and be like: mmmmmmm mine now

And he just, doesn't tell Bruce and has them lodged in a safe house until one of his siblings inevitably crashes the place for whatever reason and discovers that the Wayne family trend of adopting black haired blue eyed children off the street is still running strong. And jason has to beg for the secret to be kept. Bonus points if Jason knows Danny and Dani are half ghosts bc Lazarus vibes and actively tries to stop anyone from figuring them out.

If Damian finds them it's like taking in strays, feed them till they trust you and then just randomly take them home one day.

He gets them comfortable with him, he sees the green eyes, questions the ruthlessly until they spill their guts, brings them food, and just one day they wake up in Wayne manor. Poof. Bruce had no idea about this, nor does anyone, but now he has two new children?

But I think Tim would be funny, maybe he runs into them while sleep deprived and thinks he's seeing double from the hallucinations or some shit.

Danny and Ellie just sitting on a park bench getting gradually more and more uncomfortable as some kid their age who looks stupid familiar stares at them with the intensity of a thousand suns. And they're panicking, thinking maybe they've been found out or he can just tell they're not normal when in reality he's just trying to figure out if he actually should sleep soon (the answers yes, the answers always yes).

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp #ask #writing prompt

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kitthepurplepotato · 1 year

Text

Shenanigans Part 8

Alternative Universe Part 3/3

New to the story? Start with Chapter 1!

Part 6-7-8 can be read without knowing the whole story, if you want to give it a go, click here!

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Part 8: The Menace and the case of the pajama party in the alternative universe. ( + extra Tododeku!)

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Warnings: swear words, drunk people (everyone is 25+ and responsible), drunk crying

Summary: Bakugou Katsuki might not have feelings when he’s sober, but he’s really weak to wine and champagne - with that said, get ready to an overly sensitive, fluffy Bakugou from the alternative universe.

Meanwhile, in the real world, the grumpy Bakugou Katsuki suffers - he can’t seem to understand his confusing feelings towards his biggest “enemy”.

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Meanwhile in the real world…

“Go to sleep, Kacchan.”

Honestly, the fuck is the nerd’s problem? Katsuki is on the couch. His eyes are closed. What the fuck else can he do?

“I would like to sleep, but your stupid fucking freckled face is distracting even with my eyes closed.” Katsuki snaps, his movements aggressive as he slaps his duvet around a bit for greater comfort.

Why is he on a random ass couch instead of his bedroom?

Because those two fuckers didn’t let him go home alone. Not even the mention of his poor starving pigeons made them change their mind. Sadistic assholes.

“Izuku’s freckled face has nothing to do with you hyperventilating on the couch.” Todoroki sighs. “She’s fine, Bakugou. She’s probably having a pajama party with a less mental version of you right now.”

Was that supposed to make him calm? And anyway… “Why the fuck are you here, Candy Cane?”

“I’m here to make sure you don’t strangle Izuku in his sleep.” Comes the easy answer, and to be fair, he might do that if he gets sleep deprived enough.

“Go and share a bed with him him, just in case.” He grumbles back and closes his eyes again, hoping to have least 3 hours of sleep tonight, just to have some energy to scream Y/N’s face off properly when she dares to come back. That’s all.

“Good idea, thank you!” Perks up the half and half idiot, making Izuku squeak like a 10 year old virgin. Fucking idiot.

“I wish to sleep a-alone, thank you v-very much.” He stutters and leaves the living room; Todoroki goes after him like a kicked puppy who does not understand their owner’s anger, even tho they just shat on their carpet 5 minutes ago.

After a few minutes of loud commotion in Deku’s bedroom - the nerd is probably telling that dick off for not understanding human communication again - the flat falls silent; but Bakugou’s thoughts are still too loud to be able to sleep.

“Fuck this shit.” He grumbles and takes his phone out to type out a message.

The fact, that the message was sent at 3:30 AM does not matter. He’s just not tired yet.

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The pajama party is more like an interrogation on crack. You are attacked with questions from every side, barely able to answer them all, but all your anxiety flew away the moment Todoroki popped open his secret drink fridge filled with all the fancy alcohol he stole from his idiot father’s old liquor cabinet. “Well, it’s his fault he left them in my mom’s house. He’s not gonna come back for it.” He said nonchalantly, when seeing your massive saucer eyes when he popped open a super expensive champagne that costs more than your monthly wage.

You tell the guys about the world of quirks; you try to keep it simple and not too revealing, but Deku is about to pop a vein as his question wasn’t answered before, so you have to do something before the guy gets brain damaged.

They tell you all their funny stories from America, about their dreams and plans for the future; they are so pure and so lively, they make your heart melt. You also try your best to tell them about their current life in your world; you can’t really tell them much about Deku and Todoroki but the more you drink, the more you ramble about your annoying boss, about how much you hate his guts, about his daily assholery; by the end of the day you end up with your head on the dumbstruck blonde’s shoulder next to you.

By 3 AM, Deku and Todoroki are passed out on the massive bed in the funniest position ever; they literally fell asleep on top of each other, their bodies making a cross sign on the bed. Deku’s body is spread through Todoroki’s lap like a cat, his head hanging down from the side of the bed. It definitely doesn’t look comfortable, but they look content so you decide against waking them up.

The blonde next to you is also half asleep, but he looks kinda melancholic. To be fair, he did stop responding to your ramblings after a while, but you were too drunk to care.

“I’m sorry for talking shit about your other self.” You apologize as you make your way to the makeshift bed on the floor. “He’s really not that bad. He can be really caring, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” He snaps, then suddenly, he’s really interested in his own bedding by the way he stares at it. You swear his eyes look a little bit wet, but you might be hallucinating. “I’m sorry, it’s just…”

He’s crying. Motherfucking murder whatever god Dynamight is fucking crying.

You definitely drank way too much. This can’t be real. “I’m frustrated, goddamit!” He cries out loudly, waking the other two up with his sudden hysterics. “There is this beautiful, intelligent, caring lady in that fucker’s life who tolerates him even though he doesn’t deserve it at all and he’s being an absolute ass about it.” He continues, silent tears falling on his red cheeks. “He has everything I always wanted yet he doesn’t give a shit about it, and that frustrates me.” He ends his rant while he covers himself with his duvet aggressively. You are not sure if you want to cry over the touching words or laugh at how adorable he is so you just end up staring at him from the other side of room where your bedding is.

“He’s a sensitive drunk, bless his little heart.” Mumbles the greenette and taps Bakugou’s head with his hanging hand. He passes out again right after.

“If I would be in his place…” he mumbles, still hidden under his duvet. “Actually… I will go to your fucking country and I won’t leave until I found you. I will make sure you are the happiest fucking woman in this world, I’ll force you to come with me to Japan if I need to. That’s what I’m gonna do. Yeah.”

The room falls silent. You are definitely crying now. Who is this man and how is he related to Bakugou Katsuki? You really want to get married to this random stranger in a random creepy chapel in the middle of the night.

“I’ll give you all my possible addresses then.” You murmur into your pillow with a smile on your face; it’s really silly to be jealous of your own self, but you can’t help it. You are really sad you won’t be able to see these people again; this weird trio made their way into your heart in less than 24 hours and to be absolutely honest with yourself, you really don’t want to go back to the real world.

You slowly drift off to slumberland in this safe and peaceful room, dreaming about a better world and a better life.

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Meanwhile in the real world…

Mr. Katsuki did NOT sleep last night.

Why, you ask?

Because sleep is for the weak.

No, it has nothing to do with the fact that his secretary is in another world, sad and lonely, probably frightened to death in the middle of night, sleeping on the street somewhere, freezing and hungry.

Mr. Katsuki does NOT care about the Menace.

He’s also not tired.

The bags under his eyes? They are Gucci. It’s a fashion choice. They make him look rough and manly, as Kirishima would say. They also help shutting up the extras, as they are too terrified to talk to him.

Everything is fine.

“Katsuki.” The half and half fuckface sighs. The fuck is his problem?! He haven’t said a single word. He’s calm and collected. “You’ve been staring at the concrete for 2 hours now. We still have a few more minutes.”

“I’m just making sure no one steps on the spot.” Mr. Katsuki answers, looking all professional. This is just another job on the field. No biggie. He’s just doing a good job.

“Kacchan, you made sure no one steps on that spot 2 hours ago.” Deku opens his mouth and Mr.Katsuki does not understand the problem here. Yes, he drew a big circle around the area saying “If you step here, you die.” But there might be someone around who’s visibly impaired, or just dumb in general. Or a foreigner who does not understand the world DIE! DIE! DIE! Written all over the area. Maybe, the message is not clear. You never know.

“Fuck off and let me do my job!” Mr. Katsuki snaps, his eyes still focused on the concrete in front him. He could probably remember every single crack on this concrete piece by now even without looking at it.

A few minutes later, something suddenly falls from the sky; Mr. Katsuki is too focused on the concrete to see it coming, hence why, the Menace arrives with a big thump.

Mr. Katsuki almost throws up from the way his heart suddenly drops for a second… wait, no. The only reason Mr. Katsuki feels sick is the smell of alcohol coming from the ground.

“I will never drink again.” Mumbles the idiot while rubbing her stupid forehead. And Mr. Katsuki looses his shit.

“You fucking asshole!” He screams, making the hungover Menace flinch. “I thought you fucking died!” He screams even louder. “Yet here you are, fucking hungover, while I couldn’t fucking sleep because of you!”

Y/N’s phone suddenly beeps, so she takes a look at it, giving Katsuki a questioning glance.

“By the message you sent me at 3:30 AM, you slept really well last night?” She dares to say, and also, she dares to continue. “Oh, and your other self is so much nicer than you are. Quite a bummer, really. I kinda wanted to date the guy.”

Mr. Katsuki does not get flustered. The only reason his face is red as a tomato is the hot weather. It has nothing to do with the indication of Y/N willing to date him. It’s not him anyway, technically. Plus, he would never date this terrible, smelly woman. Never. He has no intentions of waking up next to this menace everyday, moan about the stupid pigeons while trying to untangle their limbs from each other, he definitely has no intentions of making breakfast every morning to make sure the Menace actually eats proper food and not just rice with fucking broccoli - just because the food is plain, doesn’t mean it’s nutritious.

… wait.

You are misunderstanding. He definitely DID NOT think about this before. His self-deprived brain is just a bit to imaginative, that’s all.

Let’s take a deep breath and step back for a bit. Let’s think about this situation.

The Menace is clearly hungover if not fucking drunk, still.

The Menace just confessed that she met his other self.

That means…

“You got drunk with me in an alternative universe?!” Mr. Katsuki snaps again, glaring at the floor incredulously.

“No, I got drunk with you, Deku and Todoroki. Also, you are really sensitive and super cuddly when you drink. It’s adorable.” The menace GIGGLES, hiding her stupid face behind her stupid hands, looking like a lovesick teenager.

Cuddly?!

Adorable?!

“You did not fucking cuddle me. You did not!”

Dynamight can not take this shit anymore. He explodes. Literally. For the next few minutes, all you can hear is swear words and death threats coming from the hero, his palm making explosions from left to right.

(…And you didn’t even mention the cute selfie you have on your phone with the three of them yet; you can only hope the picture is still available in this world, because fuck if you you won’t frame that shit and put it on your living room shelf.)

“It’s Shouto’s fault! His father has a liquor cabinet!” She tries to save herself self while throwing the other one under the bus. Todoroki doesn’t get offended, just stays silent for a while and nods.

“My father indeed had a liquor cabinet, but I never opened it before. Does it have good stuff in it?” He asks innocently, but his gaze is nothing but mischievous.

“Shou…” Midoriya facepalms, but says nothing else. He’s just done.

“The best stuff, mate. Mind sharing in the future?” Y/N winks, and for the first time in Shouto’s life, he grins at a “stranger”.

Mr. Katsuki doesn’t comment, he just explodes again.

Literally.

💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥

Extra:

(not a part of the main story, feel free to skip if it’s not your cup of tea)

Warnings: Closeted gays, Tododeku, talking about sex (only vaguely)

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“You wanted to see us, Y/N?”

Yes, you wanted to see these two. Why? Because you are a fucking fujoshi. That’s why.

“Shouto, Deku. Please, sit down.” You point at the sofa, making the two bulky heroes shuffle awkwardly. “Today, we will talk about love, romance and sexual attraction.”

As you finish your sentence, the two heroes get extremely uncomfortable, shuffling a bit more to stay as far away from each other as they can. They literally behave like two teenagers who just got caught making out. It’s actually quite hilarious.

“I’m… not sure why is this important, miss Y/N, b-but to be honest, I ne-never had the time to think about my… preferences? I’m married to my job, I guess?” Stutters the green haired hero, awkwardly ruffling his own curls to keep himself grounded. Adorable.

“I am more than content with my current life. I do not need romance to be happy and satisfied.” Deadpans the half and half hero, and that’s actually what you wanted to hear; because now, you can ask your question without beating around the bush too much.

“Does Deku has something to do with your current satisfaction?”

If he dares to answer with a lie…

“Yes.” He deadpans again, making the greenette next to him blush like a high schooler.

“Deku?”

“I… I don’t think there is anyone who would be able to understand my work on the long run, as I barely have a day off, and I also couldn’t find anyone who would tolerate my rambling for long enough to like me that way.” He sighs, trying his best to not make an eye contact with anyone in the office.

“I like your ramblings.” Shouto steps in, not really understanding the problem here. This guy really can’t read the room. “I also work with you, so I understand your line of work perfectly.”

“Shouto, we are talking about love and romance.” Deku whines, clearly done with his best friend’s bluntness. “You wouldn’t have sex with me, would you?”

“I never thought about this option before.” Todoroki touches his non-existent beard, clearly deep in thought. “Is it allowed to romance your best friend?”

“Shou!!” Deku takes one of the pillows from the sofa and hides his face in it; his body lit up as OFA intensely crackles around his muscles from the embarrassment.

“You can date your best friend, yes. Now leave. And talk about it. My work here is done.”

As the two heroes leave the office, you look at the blonde hiding behind his massive desk next to you; the two were too busy to realize he’s here, and you decided not to make a comment about it either. It was more fun this way.

“They will fuck tonight.” He says while looking at you with a mischievous smirk on his amused face.

“They probably won’t, but they will get together, for sure.” You smirk back, your hand in the air, waiting for a high five, which never comes.

“You have a long way before you can get a high five from me, you fucking drunkard.”

Oh, well.

At least you officially made two couples since you started in this office.

That’s enough of an achievement for the day.

“I really want to drink with you again, Mr. Dynamight.” You sigh into the distance, mumbling to yourself.

“You wish!” The blonde snaps, his blushing face hidden behind his hands as he looks away; as Mr. Dynamight said, you are a long way from getting drinking privileges with the hero, but never say never; If that adorable blush is anything to go by, you are not that far away from it as Bakugou thinks.

… next chapter!

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The alternative universe story ENDS HERE, the main story will be continued!

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End note: We are slowly getting into the romance territory here! I actually came up with quite a few ideas in the last few days! Don’t worry, it’s still going to be funny. If you think these two can do anything in a non-comedic way, you read this story the wrong way, mate.

Also thank you for those who only read the last 3 chapters; I hope you enjoyed them! Feel free to stay around for the rest of the story! The taglist is still open for everyone! 💥

If there is anything you want to see in this story, feel free to message me with your ideas! 💜

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Taglist: @ibkg @chuugarettes @lilmaimai @nonomesupposedto @sozainturpal @luleck @notplutos

#bakugo katsuki x reader #my hero academia #bakugou x reader #shenanigansbypurplepotato #mha x reader #bnha x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x you #bakugou x self insert

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