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deans-baby-momma · 4 years

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AFFLICTED-Part 8

A/N: Here it is....the last part to Afflicted. Enjoy!

The first day of Dean’s ‘vacation’ he busies himself with changing the oil in Baby and replacing the brake pads and fluids in my car, a 2015 Dodge Charger. He had told me they were both overdue on maintenance. So while he is in the garage I do a couple loads of laundry and take care of our daughter.

When I had become pregnant with Mavelin, Dean had insisted we get rid of the car I had been driving, an old hunk of junk Honda Civic hatchback, and get a more dependable vehicle. At the time, the Civic was all I could afford. That was way before I’d even heard of the Winchsters. To say I wouldn’t miss my car was a bold and inaccurate statement. That car held many memories for me but I had to agree with my husband, it wasn’t the safest option.

I am just hanging the last of his never-ending abundance of flannels when he walks into our bedroom, grease covered and dirty. Dean Winchester with grease splatters and stains is a sight that I can’t help but squeeze my thighs together at. The man is always sex on bowed-legs but with specks of oil and grime makes him even sensual.

“Hey baby,” he says as he spots me walking out of the closet. “How about after I take a shower and we have lunch we take Mav over to that park on 9th? Let her watch all the wildlife.”

“Yea, that sounds good,” I answer with a smile. “Do you need help getting those hard to reach areas?”

“Fuck yea! Is she asleep?”

I nod and follow Dean into the bathroom, where we quickly strip and step into the shower stall. Dean immediately steps under the stream, grabbing the soap and lathering it up to wash his hair.

After a couple of minutes he rinses by running his hands up over his face and hair and turns toward me. As sexy and lustful he is when he is dirty, Dean Winchester wet and naked is downright titillating! He is standing there, the water hitting his head and shoulders and rolling down his body.

“Like what you see?” he asks with a smirk when he catches me watching the water slide down his body.

“Duh.” I answer and he pulls me into his arms, hugging me close to his body and allowing the water to cascade over both of us. I can feel his cock grow against my hip. His head lowers until his lips meet mine and I instantly open for him.

The water runs frigid by the time we exit it and wrap ourselves in towels. Dean used to complain that shower sex was complicated but over time he and I have figured out the logistics of it and have used needing a shower as an excuse to get some quality alone time with one another. Especially when the Bunker was overrun by the people he and Sam had saved from the apocalypse world.

Sam and Mary return three days later, with tales of how the ghost almost got the upperhand by jumping from location to location until they realized that the great-granddaughter of the woman was carrying around a broach that she was linked to.

The next few weeks, it is quiet. No one calling for help with cases, the supernatural seems to be taking Dean’s lead and enjoying a vacation themselves. Life in the Bunker is mundane and normal. It is eerily comforting, not having to worry about where the next threat is going to come from and just being a normal-well as normal as the Winchesters could be-family.

But as with all things, the good times must end too. Dean is into his fifth week of his break when the call comes in. Donna Hanscum, sheriff in Stillwater, Minnesota calls early one morning, profusely apologizing for interrupting but in major urgency for some help. After both Sam and Dean speak to her on the phone, you find Dean in your bedroom packing a duffel.

“So,” I begin as I sit on the edge of the bed. “Guess vacation is over huh?”

“Yea, sounds like Donna has sometthing on her hands,” he explains as he rolls up the dress shirt to his suit and places it in the bag. “Are you okay with this? I know you weren’t feeling the best this morning.”

I look up at him, confused. “I heard you in the bathroom. Sounded like you were hacking up a lung. I can send Mom and Sam if you think I need to stay back and take care of you; if you’re coming down with something.”

“No I’m fine,” I assure him. “It’s probably just something I ate or maybe too many whiskeys. I think you were trying to get me wasted last night so you could take advantage.” I finish, smiling up at him.

“Nah, I don’t need you wasted to do that,” he jokes and he cups my cheek in his palm. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Dean, I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. It was just an upset stomach. I am allowed to not feel well all the time you know?” I tell him, laughing at his mother hen tendencies that he denies.

He goes back to packing and within an hour, the three oldest Winchesters pull out of the garage in Baby, headed to Minnesota. Adam stands beside me while we wave them off.

“Why didn’t you go?” I ask as the Impala disappears.

“Dean asked me to stay back and keep an eye on you. Said you weren’t feeling well,” Adam says. “Are you alright?”

“God, that man! Yes, Adam I am fine. Got a little drunk last night and it didn’t settle on my stomach well so I woke up nauseous.”

I stalk back toward the entrance of our home, leaving him standing there.

I am not about to tell my brother-in-law or anyone else that this has been going on for almost a week; waking up nauseated and rushing to the bathroom to puke up whatever is in my system. There could only be one reason for that and I do not want to even consider it.

As I’m going to bed that night, my phone vibrates and lights up on the nightstand. It’s a text from Dean.

D: Hey babe. We made it. Got to catch up with Donna and introduce her to Mom. This case has really taken a toll on her though.

Y/N: Hey. I’m glad you got there in one piece. I had no doubt you would. What does your mom think of our lovely sheriff friend? Her and Donna hit it off? And why do you think that?

D: That’s because I’m an awesome driver. :) Mom is like Sammy and me. Even though she just met the woman, she says Donna is acting strange.

Y/N: Really? Strange how? I mean Donna is kind of strange anyway. So it’s more than usual?

D: Like she was surprised when we walked into the station. I mean she covered it well, but I saw a brief look of shock. I don’t know maybe it’s just been too long and I can’t get a good read on her.

D: So what are you wearing?

The next morning I am met with the same queasiness that has been tormenting all week. Before I could even tend to Mavelin, I was bent over the toilet puking my guts up until I was dry heaving. Knowing that what I have been worried about is more than likely happening, I decide to find out for sure during Mav’s morning nap.

I brush my teeth and rinse my face off before heading toward her room. When I get to the door, I hear Adam talking to her. I push the door open to see my brother-in-law with my daughter on the changing table and he was changing her diaper.

“Who’s a good girl? You’re a good girl. Just like your Mother.”

Mavelin coos and Adam laughs. “Yea your mom likes being called a good girl too.”

I finally make my presence known by walking into the room and standing beside him, pretending not to have heard what he said.

“Good morning, sweet face,” I sing to Mavelin. “Is uncle Adam changing you? Yea, then you’re almost ready for breakfast aren’t you.”

I turn and head toward the rocking chair. Once I am seated I pull the flap of the nursing bra down and reach for Adam to hand her to me.

He turns with her in his arms and stops in his tracks.

“Uh….”

“Oh come on Adam. It’s a boob,” I tell him as I take the baby from him. “It’s not like you haven’t seen them before.”

I help Mavelin latch on and look back up to see that my brother-in-law has left the room. I shrug it off and continue feeding her.

That afternoon while Mavelin is finally down for a nap-she fought her morning siesta- I head to the bathroom where I know the extra pregnancy test is.

The wait for the timer on my phone to go off seems excruciatingly lengthy. When the buzzer finally rings, I take a breath and turn the stick over. Two blue lines. I’m pregnant again! There is a human growing inside me and I am not 100% sure who the father is.

My heart is pounding in my chest as I get rid of the evidence and walk out of the bathroom. So many emotions are running through me; so many thoughts in my head. Mavelin is only 4 months old and is already going to be a big sister. I always knew I wanted more kids, Dean and I had discussed that when I was pregnant with her and he was on board to have one or two more.

But now that it’s actually happening, I can’t be happy; I can’t be excited to be adding another member to our family. Because it might not even be his.

I sit on the end of our bed and contemplate everything. How will I tell him? Do I tell him? Do I just pretend that there is no other possibility that he isn’t the father? That would destroy him, destroy us.

I stand and take a breath before I head out into the hallway and into the kitchen.

Adam is sitting at the table, reading a lore book.

“Adam,” I say to get his attention. “Can we talk?”

A/N2: Did you really think this story was going to be over? SIKE! Ha! Watch for an announcement on Tumblr today at 3PM EDT. <wink wink>

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @squirrelnotsam @sandlee44 @internationalmusicteacher @kricketc29 @natura1phenomenon @blacktithe7 @spnbaby-67 @travelingriversideblues-x @keymology @tftumblin @markofdean79 @thevelvetseries @deanwanddamons @winchester-fantasies @akshi8278 @michellethetvaddict @larajadeschmidt13 @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @hoboal87 @atc74 @maddiepants

#AFFLICTED #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #adam milligan #castiel angel of the lord #mary winchester #reader insert #accident #paralysis #cheating #smut #smidge of fluff #angst #unplanned pregnancy #oops

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flightsrsk · 4 years

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hello hello all !!! my name is riley and this is my actual trash son maverick, aka the flight risk !!! i am so so hyped to get the ball rollin on this, so check out info on my kid under ze cut !!

warning: this got rlly mcfreaking long and i am so sorry fjdklsjs i am incapable of writing a short intro post

unfortunately i will not be able to be around for the official opening bc i’m on vacation w my fam and godparents, but i will try and intermittently read intros and chat to you guys about plots !!!! PLS feel free to bombard me through IMs or through discord if any plot sparks ur interest or u think mav could fit well in one of ur plots!!! :’)

THE BASICS

Name: Maverick Hobbes Braxton

Age: Twenty-one

Gender: Cismale

Pronouns: He/Him

Major & year: Philosophy, Third year

Faceclaim: Alex Fitzalan

Occupation: N/A

THE FLIGHT RISK

Maverick Braxton, as you might see, is an enigma—or rather, has evolved into one, slowly: a transformation that begun with his first breath. In his early years, the stage had been set for him, line by line. Act One: attend prep schools, excel in classes. Act Two: attend Covington, take center stage—you know, all of the things his older brother, Richard had accomplished with ease, just one year prior to all of his expectations. It was simple, really: a blueprint laid out ahead of him, with little to nothing in his way.

The only problem was that Maverick didn’t exactly see the point in choosing that path, that stage, that story. To him, it wasn’t challenging.

That, and the fact that the life laid out in front of him offered him absolutely nothing.

A series of banal expectations, unfair comparisons, and heartbreaking betrayals, and the traditional life of the Braxton child was thrown out the window—at least, in his brain, it was. See, Maverick Braxton, while independent, coy, and arrogant, isn’t stupid. He knows if he pleases his parents just enough, they’ll still distribute his trust fund and still bail him out of legal trouble when he inevitably tiptoes too far down the delicate line between ambition and rebellion. Perhaps it’s a bit selfish, but what does he owe to a family who paid him no attention, who never asked of his well-being, his own ambitions, his personal dreams?

He’s the kind of person to drive down the highway, windows rolled all the way down, cigarette lit—not because he necessarily likes the taste of nicotine, but because he likes the way the smoke creates clouds that obscure reality. He’ll surprise you in class when he interjects with a sarcastic but surprisingly salient point before throwing up his hood and retreating to the back corner for the rest of class. He’s the kind of person to start reading a book, flipping incessantly through the pages, both impatient by the pace of the plot, yet put it down before he reaches the final pages because he doesn’t want to be disappointed by the ending. He’s the kind of artist who rarely finishes a sketch, the writer who is never satisfied by a poem—for fear, of course, by deep-rooted insecurities that nothing that he will ever do will be enough.

A once-broken heart had taken time to mend, even though it seems ice-cold and whole from the outside. It’s why he has commitment issues: he doesn’t want to be burned again. He plays off his flirtatious bit as a personality trait, someone who is bored by the prospect of being tied down—and yet those who share his bed might consider him Covington’s most surprisingly deep pillow-talker.

An enigma, you see—one who doesn’t stick around long enough for anyone to truly understand, truly a Flight Risk.

BIOGRAPHY:

( You can read his full biography here! Still in the process of editing it a bit, but below are some important bullet points! )

Maverick was born the second of three children to the Braxton family—and as per usual with the Braxton children, he was born into a life filled to the absolute brim of expectation.

His father, a playwright, his mother, an actress. His brother, a theatre prodigy—what part did that leave him to play? The assumed expectations were to follow in his mother and brothers’ footsteps and take center stage; he excelled, for a while, but Maverick always felt lost.

Neighbors and family friends would always ask if he had measured up, in each and every shape and form: it was like the entire universe had a scoreboard with their names titling each section, and Maverick was always playing catch-up, never knowing where the finish line was.

For a while, he stuck to the script that was given to him: study, succeed, repeat. He tried to understand the ins and outs of his father’s work, of masterful acting techniques, trying to make a large enough splash to where his family would even notice the work he put into his life. Surprise: it didn’t.

It took him seventeen years to truly understand that his role in life was not exactly the story his parents had laid out for him, but rather, his sibling, instead.

Downcast emotions transformed quickly into cynicism. What used to make him feel sad now fueled a blue fire within Maverick’s chest, one that felt wronged by the system he was placed in: a complete first-world problem, but it was then and there when he decided to take advantage of his situation, given that he had spent his entire life dedicated to a part he wouldn’t play.

Hypocritical as he was, he still enjoyed the fruits of his parents’ work, cashing the unlimited checks with his name on them, as if it was some sort of sick version of love.

One piece of recognition that Maverick finally earned was an acceptance to Covington—and even that couldn’t be tainted by his brother’s success or his legacy status.

At Covington, Maverick has both lost and found his footing, multiple times. He’s quit acting, quit studying theater, in favor of a topic that stimulates his brain more than reading lines and

PERSONALITY:

Maverick Braxton is certainly a paradox. He’s charismatic, funny, and has a witty sense of humor –– and is generally appreciated by his peers because he’s able to move conversation and discussion without making topics seem dry.

Despite his apparent inferiority to his sibling, the Braxton family still breeds the cream of the crop. He’s certainly a bit arrogant sometimes, given that he’s intelligent, innovative, and clever, and wants to be recognized for it –– however, even if he might not show it on the outside, he appreciates a good challenger. He thinks it keeps his wit sharp, and of course, his ego would never show it, but he does appreciate learning from people. After all, his passion in philosophy, his current area of study, makes him certainly interested in how the world works.

Those who happen to get to know Maverick outside of the surface-level stuff, outside the initial cockiness and flirtatious front he puts on will know that he’s actually quite thoughtful. His lonely childhood has made him extremely loyal to those who have shown him similar trust and friendship –– he would never turn his back on them.

He asks probing questions, is a good listener –– perhaps because he’s interested in human decision making, but is also because he doesn’t quite know what it’s like to be loved unconditionally –– though he wants to.

Deep down, what almost no one knows is that he’s really quite soft. He passes his curiosity off as wanting to understand people, when really it’s a mechanism for hoping someone asks him questions in return, to give him the time of day he wished his parents ( and the rest of the goddamned universe ) had given him.

Despite his theatre prowess, he isn’t actually a particularly good liar. Those who spend enough time around him can hear his tone of voice incline slightly and see him scratch his brow.

AESTHETICS:

coffee-stained mugs, walking with headphones in but nothing playing, untied shoelaces, black hoodies, a cheeky smirk, small books in his back pocket, writing in the margins, unfinished poems, quoting old authors on a daily basis, incessant eye-rolling, pen ink stains, an unmade bed, mismatched socks, floral ties, empty bottles of liquor, rose thorn pricks, old worn poetry books, polished dress shoes, calloused fingers, unlit cigarettes between teeth.

HEADCANONS:

Funnily enough, Maverick’s name means ‘independent, a noncomformist’, which is exactly the path that he has taken to stray away from his family’s expectations.

He does have one strong connection to his family, though: his grandmother, on his father’s side. She understands the pressure he undergoes, who saw the pressure Maverick’s father endured to obtain the success he has. She is one of the only reasons that Maverick has not just jetted off to take on his own adventure. He loves her dearly, and wishes that her empathy and wisdom would rub off on the rest of his family.

Maverick has some form of synesthesia, which allows him to remember a lot more than the average person. He associates colors, smells, sounds, to words –– and allows him to efficiently study any subjects he doesn’t have immediate passion for.

In the privacy of his own bedroom, he sometimes writes poetry and sketches his thoughts and muses –– when he knows he’s in complete privacy. Faces and features that appear in his sketchbooks are often those he’s thinking of often, those who intrigue him. He’s actually quite good a sketching, maybe not quite as good at writing poetry.

His room is spotless –– evidence that he is a bit of a control freak sometimes. It shows that during his adolescence, he reveled in the parts of his life that he could control and perfect.

tw drugs. He more than dabbles in drug use, smoking marijuana maybe every other day, while partaking in harder drugs like cocaine and adderall and others probably once a week. He feels like he’s in control of his use, but it may start to get the best of him. end tw.

Maverick is left-handed. He hates that he gets pen ink stains when he draws, writes poetry, takes notes. His left palm is probably perennially covered with ink.

Though he’s often wearing headphones ( airpods, of course, the nerve of this rich kid ), half the time, nothing’s playing. Sometimes he forgets to press play on his phone, sometimes he purposely likes listening to decision-making and conversations of strangers. it lets him think about the nature of mankind.

Maverick’s favorite philosopher is Albert Camus, known for his work that heavily developed the idea of absurdism ( much to do with the meaning of life, and human inability to discern an answer ).

Maverick’s preferred method of transportation is his skateboard. he loved it first because his parents hated it: pushing himself around on a board like that would get him injured—besides, why not just take the car to school, the driver had been paid for anyway? It was his first taste of rebellion. Now at Covington, where skateboarding is far more efficient than walking across campus, it comes in handy when he sees someone he’d rather not stop and chat to.

Maverick could die with a poetry book nestled on his chest—it’s the one thing he got out of the impressive book collection his family owned. There was something daunting and beautiful about the way poems would transform metaphors into something fantastical, like the emotions were clearly there, but the words were skirting the issue. Kind of like how his parents would never really tell him they loved him.

Maverick often has headphones in when he walks to class. not particularly because he’s actually listening to music or a podcast, but rather because he’d just … rather not be bothered to stop and talk to people.

Maverick loves to draw. He’s mostly self-taught, with a bit of mentorship from his high school art teacher. Evidenced by the rest of his fleeting personality, he rarely finishes a sketch or painting. He claims he never has time to finish them, but the number of crumbled-up, half-finished sketches in his trash bin might say otherwise.

PLOTS

** see my wanted plots tag here too! // and my plots page here !!

* FIRST LOVE / OPEN.

It wouldn’t be easy to make Maverick feel like even more of a disappointment than he already had with his parents, his family—but your muse proved this feeling wrong. He loved them, more than he’d ever loved anything before. In the midst of confusion about where he belonged, he felt safe with your muse; he’d do anything for them. Things ended, he felt betrayed ( though the break-up could have easily been due to a fault of his ), and the split made him the one who now struggles fully with commitment. He doesn’t want to have his heart broken again. See: this entire pinterest board.

but also if u give me this ……………… i’ll name my firstborn after u

* BEST FRIEND / OPEN.

Those who go through similar childhood traumas are often able to understand each other –– that was how it worked with Maverick and your muse, at least. They’re thick as thieves — and have likely seen the ups and downs of Maverick’s life in real time.

* CHILDHOOD FRIENDS / OPEN.

Self explanatory—and also probably knows about the pressures the Braxton family imposes on their children.

* EX-FRIENDS / OPEN.

Friends who were close, close no longer. Maverick’s a real piece of work, and an asshole, too—there are myriad possibilities for why Maverick could have pushed them away. He wouldn’t openly admit that he misses being around your muse, but he certainly would feel a bit of guilt given that they’re no longer the closest of friends.

* MOMENT OF WEAKNESS / OPEN.

Your muse, in whatever unfortunate setting, saw a glimpse of Maverick’s soft side that hardly ever makes an appearance. He’s not going to let them tell the world about his vulnerabilities, though. Not a chance.

* DISLIKED / OPEN.

Maverick is sarcastic, cold, and sometimes emotionless. It’s not surprising that not everyone gets along with the middle Braxton. The possibilities are endless—throw in some sexual tension and I’d actually fall at ur feet.

* PREVIOUS ROOMMATES / OPEN.

Your muse, at one point, probably knew Maverick better than everyone else at Covington. They overheard some of his phone calls with his parents, saw his notes for how he was to achieve his life goals, heard him crying in the middle of the night when he thought your muse was asleep. They could be extremely close now, as in one of the few people Maverick opens up to, or could be distant friends who know about one anothers’ struggles. The possibilities are endless, tbh.

+ ANYTHING LEGITIMATELY ……… IF U THINK THERE’S POSSIBILITY FOR SOMETHING COOL W MAV AND UR MUSE. SIGN ME THE F UP. THANKS.

#tw:drugs #tw:smoking #tw:flashing lights #covintro #// PLS HMU WITH PLOTS OK FDJKLSJSD I HATE I AM MISSING OPENING BUT I WANT ALL THE PLOTS

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