#all we need is john added in and it would be PERFECT

[squilfmybeloved]

dutch telling arthur "see? you don't kill everything" after arthur releases a fish on that mission is so :( like okay :(( thanks dad :(((

[phantasm-ae]

cw: fluff, afab reader x price, baker wife, grumpy x sunshine, domestic fluff, domestic chaos

HEADCANON: Price likes to keep his life separate. You — his sweet little baker wife, all honey and syrupy sweet vs his violent and bitter work as an elite operative. But what happens when the lines suddenly are crossed when your cafe gets robbed?

PAIRING: John Price x reader

You and your husband John owned a small cozy cafe somewhere in a quaint little town secluded in a warmy and sleepy valley. Nothing too exciting of course ever seemed to happen here. Quiet. Homey. Cloistered and remote.

Just the kind of place Price thought would be perfect to better draw the boundary between his life and yours. Where you -- his darling sweet and syrupy love of his life -- and your world remained all scones and sugar packets. While his was smoke and steel.

John didn't mind of course. He liked it perfectly that way. Loved it, even.

You didn’t ask questions when he disappeared for days at a time -- you just packed him a thermos and kissed his cheek like you always did. You didn’t need the details, he reserved. You just know that he was in the military and that was all, too dull and recluse to truly fathom that what he did could turn stomachs inside out.

You only asked him once though -- early on, when you’d burned a batch of cinnamon rolls waiting for him to come home from a mission that went a day too long.

“Did you win?” you asked, hands sticky with sugar, eyes soft and searching.

And he’d stared at you for a long, long moment. Then he nodded. “Yeah, love. We won.”

That was enough.

After that, you never asked again. Instead, you made his favorite blend of tea whenever he came back, warm and steady like a lighthouse in the storm. You mended his uniforms without asking about the holes. Humming softly as you patch through what you thought were just snags from bad fences or brambles, never suspecting the bullets that tore through and almost tore his jugular in half.

You never really knew what that odd smell was buried in the seams on some of his cargos or vests, only scrubbed a little harder, added a touch of lavender to the rinse water, and folded everything just the way he liked. Tight, precise, like the way he made his bed.

You didn’t see the bloodstains or the torn flesh. Nor the daunting threat of death and decay at his fists. No, heavens no.

You saw the man who kissed your knuckles when you handed him warm muffins. The one who grumbled every morning about how you made the café smell like vanilla instead of "real breakfast food" -- and then ate three scones before the door sign flipped to open.

The one you let rest his head in your lap and carded gentle fingers through his hair as if you could soothe away every awful thing he’s done with just a little more tenderness.

That was John. Your John.

The one who would quietly fix the loose leg on your favorite chair before you even noticed it wobbled. The one who grunted and shifted in his sleep, sometimes mumbling things under his breath that didn’t sound like English. The one whose eyes got distant in the quiet hours between closing and bedtime.

But always -- always -- came back to you.

He was a different man in this town, in your arms. Here, he wasn’t Captain Price, commander of elite soldiers, a ghost on the battlefield with blood on his hands. Here, he was John. Just John.

Your John Price. Husband to honeyed and gentle Mrs. Price from the bakery.

He loved the routine of it -- the slow pace, the scent of baked goods in the morning, the sound of your soft voice humming along with the radio as you wiped down the counters. Loved when you wore those little frilly lemon-print aprons and silly heart-shaped earrings. When you brought lunch to the old postman every Tuesday and insisted on naming the stray cat that wandered by the café (“Muffin,” of course).

No one in town ever suspected what John was capable of. Why would they? He looked like a grumpy husband with joint pain and a nicotine habit. Wore thick puffy jumpers that you'd always knitted in the winter and helped carry the elderly ladies’ groceries. Didn’t speak much. Smoked out back and occasionally grunted at tourists.

The townspeople adored you. But they... well they pitied him.

“He’s lucky, that one,” they’d whisper over tea. “Poor dear looks half-dead most days. But she’s so sweet to him.”

John heard it. He didn’t mind.

If anything, it made him smile.

And then came the Tuesday that shattered the routine.

It started like any other: sunrise over the sleepy valley, kettle whistling, you carefully arranging pastries in the display case. John out back somewhere in the kitchen. Grizzling and grumbling about as you voiced out how the espresso machine just wasn't working properly at all since yesterday. Finding the usual muttering and clattering of steel and plastic a soothing backdrop as you kneaded dough and dusted some floury residue off the counters.

Until the door opened.

Too hard. Too fast.

Three men. Military posture .... Wrong energy? Probably just grumpy and hungry you concluded in your sweet little head.

You blinked. Smile not faltering one bit. “Good morning! Table for—?”

They didn’t answer. One reached under his coat. One locked the door behind him.

“Cash. Now.”

“Oh, dear,” you said, wiping your hands on your apron. “Can it wait until I get the biscotti out of the oven?”

“No.” He slammed his hand down. “Now, lady.”

And then, without warning, John was there.

Still clad from the lacy smock you insisted he wore as uniform with you. Adorned with the added crocheted flowers and bunnies in the straps and pockets. Looking like a hulking and fuming bear. impatient and unreserved like someone woke him up too early from hibernation. You didn’t even hear him come out. But there he was, behind the counter, face calm, eyes unreadable.

“Step away from my wife.”

The man turned, laughing. “You’re the barista?”

John didn’t answer. He moved fast -- too fast for someone with a bad back. He seized the soup ladle from the stovetop, swung it like a club, and cracked it across the man’s wrist with a sickening crunch. The gun clattered to the floor. Chaos erupted.

Two down before you could even blink. One tried to run -- John slammed him into the dessert case, shattering glass and scattering éclairs everywhere. The other wry and grimy one -- standing up after being knocked down silly -- ended up with a cookie tin embedded in his skull. You ducked behind the counter, mostly to protect the good china before a tooth came loose and broke your precious porcelain collection.

When it was over, John stood among the wreckage, a shallow cut on his temple bleeding down one side of his face. Panting and slightly disheveled, he surveyed the mess. The three robbers were still stunned, two of them knocked unconscious and crumpled on the floor, the third stumbling towards the door, muttering incoherent apologies, desperate to escape.

He wiped a hand across his forehead, inadvertently smearing the blood deeper into his skin, but didn't seem overly concerned about it. His eyes flickered to the scattered debris -- one of your favorite DIY cookie jars had cracked underfoot, and a few of your pristine biscotti had been knocked into the floor.

John didn’t say anything at first. He surveyed the chaos with a sigh, his hand still on the soup ladle, the faintest traces of a grim look tugging at his lips despite the blood trickling down his temple.

This was always the moment when he felt the weight of the violence seeped in -- when his world collided so violently with yours. He’d wanted to keep it all away from you, protect you from seeing him in this light. All clawed, gnawing, and evil.

But now, here he was.

Standing in the wreckage of your cozy café, a handful of broken china and smashed éclairs scattered around like confetti at a funeral.

You, however, weren’t looking at him with concern or shock. Neither surprise or fear even. No! Your eyes locked onto the mess -- the broken glass, the ruined biscotti, your smashed up DIY cookie jars!

He heard the soft thud of your footsteps as you walked over, a stern frown settling over your face. His chest tightened, and a knot formed in his stomach. This was it. The moment he had been dreading. The moment you’d look at him not as your husband, not as John darling or the John dear who fixed the leaky sink and ate too many blueberry muffins --

But as someone dangerous. Chaos. Bloody. Resolute and messy. Cutting. Squeezing. Strangling all the good until their eyes white and their necks blue. Dealing with devils and killers close to the bone.

He hadn’t meant for any of this to spill over into your world, not like this. He didn’t want you seeing him like this -- fighting in his element. But before he could even speak, you were already swinging --

-- A sticky and wet dish rag smacking him square in the chest.

"Johnathan Price" you snapped, brandishing a broom like a sword next. “What in God’s green earth do you think you’re doing breaking my good plates?! That was the Easter jar! The one with the bunnies!”

He blinked, stunned. “Darling I—”

“You promised no more soup ladle beatdowns inside the café!”

“They had a gun—”

“And I had biscotti in the oven!”

John, a man who’d led covert strikes in warzones with a cigarette in his mouth and a knife in his boot, found himself retreating from a five-foot-two woman armed with a broom and righteous fury. He tried to sidestep your next swat, but the broom caught him on the hip anyway.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing the spot. “You hit harder than Laswell on her third cup of coffee.”

You grabbed a dustpan at that. “Don’t sass me, mister. You just demolished the dessert case and scared off the Tuesday brunch crowd. They’re pensioners, John!”

He gave a sheepish shrug, eyes glancing toward the unconscious men still groaning on the floor. “They’ll come back. You make good scones.”

You huffed, storming toward the shattered biscotti like you were mourning lost children. “Next time you feel like unleashing your inner Rambo, do it outside, away from my marble countertops!”

He crouched beside you, picking up shards of cookie and porcelain, one bloodied knuckle throbbing. “I was gonna apologize, you know.”

“For what? Using my cookie tin as a blunt weapon or bleeding on the tile?”

He gave you a guilty look. “For... letting you see that side of me.”

You paused then, glancing at the trail of éclairs and unconscious criminals in his wake, then at your husband -- your grumpy, violent, cinnamon-roll-consuming husband in a floral apron, bleeding but earnest. A beat passed. And in that beat, something settled deep in your chest -- a quiet, undeniable truth.

Something had truly shifted. Maybe in him. Maybe in you. The boundaries crossed and broken. Something anew was invited when your John decided to wield a knife instead of a whisk today. When he hardly flinched when blood lingered near his teeth. Toying and grunting more pleased than disgusted by the iron taste around his fingertips and palms.

You watched him, framed in morning light and bakery ruin, chest heaving and temple bleeding, the frock of the bunnies in his apron fluttering slightly with every breath -- and in that moment, you saw not a stranger, not a monster, but something... more. Something that had always been there, just tucked behind tea cozies and his grumbling, quiet love.

And maybe you should’ve felt fear. Maybe you should’ve run. But instead --

-- you bonked him again on the head with the broom.

“John, I swear to God, if you’ve broken my grandmother’s pudding dish -- ”

He winced, actually winced, as if your wrath started to sting more than the bullet that probably grazed his arm one time back in Mexico.

“Ow! Ow! I was gonna apologize, woman,” he muttered, ducking the next swing. “Didn’t mean for you to see that side of me.”

“You think I care about that?!” you snapped, jabbing a finger at the mess. “You think I’m afraid of a man in bunny-print pockets? No! I’m mad because you smashed my entire tea set! The limited-edition one with the painted violets!”

John, still bleeding slightly, looked at the floor, sheepish. “They came in with weapons, love.”

“They came in with dirty boots!” you shot back. “And you just let them stomp all over my floor like heathens!”

One of the robbers groaned softly in the corner. Without breaking eye contact, you picked up a scone and hurled it with perfect aim. It thudded against his forehead. He slumped back down.

John stared at you.

“…You terrify me sometimes,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

You narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms. “Good.”

And that -- well, that was the real violence in John's life now.

Not wars or battles or bloodshed. No. It was John Price getting scolded within an inch of his life while holding a rag to his face, trying not to bleed on your embroidered doilies.

-- not the fists, not the firefights. Not the burning of scanting flesh and loose wounds and gunpowder --

But the fury of you. His tiny sweet little flour-dusted wife with a broom in one hand and a lecture in the other.

And John. Your John

Wouldn't have it any other way.

masterlist

[voidpvllman]

domestic habits | bob reynolds

summary: while the rest of team is on missions, you and your husband have the tower to yourselves

content warnings: this ones suggestive, a little steamy, if you will (as always, nothing at all explicit) fluff, family dynamic, banter, domestic bob, husband!bob, sentry appearance, suggestive (hiighlyyy suuggessstiiveee) themes, inappropriate jokes, bob being an absolute dream husband, kissing (🤭) you may sweat a little..

you tilted your head, phone tucked between your shoulder and your ear. “i’m telling you, i will not survive three more days of this.” “uh huh,” you flipped the pancakes, smiling in amusement as walker ranted on.

“he snores.”

“you snore, walker.”

“he snores so loudly that the room next to us banged on our door at two am, telling us to shut up.”

“oh… well, at least they didn’t wake you up, knocking on the door and you were already awake.”

“oh, that’s very funny…”

“why thank you. i’ve been working on my standup.” john snorted, “god, you would be a terrible comedian. no one would ever laugh at your jokes.” you scoffed, “bob thinks i’m hilarious, thank you very much. he laughs at all my jokes.” “bob also has the palate of a child and takes your side on everything, even if it’s factually wrong.” you smirked slightly, “he’s a very smart man.” “he’s biased. of course he’s going to take his wife’s side.” you felt yourself grinning; you still felt giddy anytime someone called you his wife.

“how are things there?”

“quiet… perfect.”

“you two are so in love, it’s disgusting.”

you smiled again, “don’t be jealous, walker.”

“don’t rub it in, reynolds.”

another smirk, “can you survive another three days with alexei?” john groaned, “i can. i can’t guarantee he will.” there was a slight scuffle in the background, muffled voices were arguing.

“hello, princess!” you jumped at the sudden loud voice in the speaker, “shit-“ your startle had caused you to jerk the side of your finger into the hot pan, “ah, damn it.” you muttered it, scrambling to run it under cold water and keep an eye on breakfast.

“hello, alexei… how are y–“

“i was snoring so loudly i woke the neighbors!” you winced, holding your phone further from your face, “that’s nice.” there was no need to put the call on speaker. “soldier boy was so angry!” his booming laughter nearly blew the speakers of your phone. “can i have my phone back?” you could hear john in the background, quietly, “seriously man, you’re getting cheeto dust all over it.”

“soldier boy wants phone back now.”

“okay, alexei-“

“wait!” you nearly jumped again; the pancake you were trying to flip nearly became a casualty.

“yes, alexei?”

“when we get back, you make tacos?”

you rolled your eyes, “okay, alexei…”

john had gotten his phone back, finally, “sorry if you have a headache now, he took it out of my hand.” you snorted, “slight burnt hand, no headache.” “i’m sure bob will kiss it better for you.” he sighed dramatically, exaggerating it greatly, “must be nice…”

you rolled your eyes with an amused smirk, “it really is.”

“goodbye, reynolds.”

“goodbye, walker.”

you dropped your phone on the counter, adding the final pancakes to the stack. you had made entirely too many for only two people. you were used to cooking for the entire team, which was usually slightly less food than an entire football team ate. your phone buzzed again and you groaned, trying to put butter and syrup on a plate of pancakes one handed as you answered.

it was yelena.

“hello, if you are calling to rant about a fellow teammate, please leave a message. i will get back to you in the order your complaint was received.”

“i’m going to use that, it’s very clever.” you smiled; despite the interruption, you were glad to hear your best friend’s voice after almost two weeks. “how are things? very quiet and romantic, i’m sure.” your cheeks heated up, thankful no one was here to see how flustered you still got anytime bob was mentioned. “i am just checking in to make sure no one died. tell the loverboy i said hello.” “you realize i’m the one that makes sure no one dies usually? and bob is still asleep.” “is that so?” yelena hummed slightly, checking her watch on the other side, “it is late morning there… …you wear him out?” you gasped slightly, dropping the silverwear— you should have been used to her comments by now, “i— yelena!” you heard her snickering through the phone, “i– yes.” you smirked to yourself as yelena whistled, “have fun, kids. always use protection.” “yelena—!” the phone clicked off and you rolled your eyes.

you balanced the plates and mugs of tea- for bob- and coffee for you, turning around precariously. you yelped as you turned around and nearly crashed into bob. “whoaa—“ bob grabbed you to steady you, pulling you against him secularly with one arm. he caught the plates before they fell, manipulated the pancakes back onto their neat stacks and caught the mugs before any liquid could spill, with a simple twitch of his finger. yeah, he could do that. you exhaled, partially from almost falling, partially because of the closeness to your favorite person in the world. bob shifted the plates and mugs back to the table. once the breakfast you had worked so hard on was safe, he turned to you. his eyes still glowed golden, looking up and down, “good morning, gorgeous girl.” your heart fluttered, like it did around him, especially at the nicknames he used. you wrapped your arms around him, nestling into his chest, face burrowing against his chest. he kissed your head, then tilted his head up to meet your lips. “whatever you made smells good. pancakes?” bob didn’t let go of you, keeping you in a tight hug. he always hugged for just slightly too long. you loved it. the too long hugs, the need to always be close, the hands always roaming your body- protectively, possessively, or just to pull you as close to him as possible. “i was going to bring you breakfast in bed...” you pouted slightly and bob stroked your lip with his thumb. “am i ever going to get to make you breakfast?” you smirked, “no, sir. that’s my job…” bob just smirked, pulling you in for a passionate kiss again.

you had taught bob how to cook in the early days, when the team had benched him indefinitely, until he could fully control his powers. you were more of the house keeper, strategizer and manager of the team, so you rarely went on missions, and never got in the field of fire. this situation meant you and bob spent a lot of time together. it was the two of you alone together more than not. you two had gotten close very quickly. when weeks went by with just you and him, it was really inevitable. you trained together to stay in shape. you exchanged book recommendations, watched movies when neither of you could sleep at night. the team began noticing the shift in dynamic between the two of you and the very obvious looks you gave each other. eventually, the team placed bets on when you two would finally get together, not knowing you were already together.

bob did the dishes as you stretched out on the couch with a book. you heard the sink turn off, dishes being placed back in their cupboards, silence, then the water being turned back on, a curse, water being sprayed, another curse. the shuffle of bare feet crossing the room, growing closer. you lowered your book just slightly, glancing over the top of it with a raised eyebrow. bob was looking at you, shirt soaking wet and clinging to him in a way that left you with nothing appropriate to say. “the sprayer wouldn’t turn off. i’ll fix it though! i just need to…” you bit your lip, half listening, “m’hm… real shame…” bob raised his eyebrows at you. you very clearly were not listening to him, and you had just realized along with the soaking wet, clinging shirt, he was only in his boxers. bob smirked, eyeing you as you looked him over with a slightly feral expression. “do you see something you like?” bob crossed his arms slightly, covering the tantalizing outline that the soaked, clinging shirt provided for the eight pack. you snapped out of it, looking slightly dazed, “sorry- i- what?” bob laughed, tilting his head slightly, tongue flicking out just barely to catch a bit of the water running down his lip from the rogue sprayer. your eyes now held a look your husband was positive he had never seen. “i said…” he dropped onto the couch, arms above your head, landing with a knee on either side of you. you felt the air get stolen from your lungs as your poor heart frantically pumped blood, trying to figure out why your brain was telling it you were now, suddenly, doing intense exercise.

well, not exactly.

…or.. not yet…

“i said,” bob leaned in closer, lips brushing against your ear, “do you,” a gentle nip against your neck, “see something you like?” you swore the room was spinning. you exhaled slowly, trying to recall what the book you had just been reading was about. for some reason, you couldn’t…likely not even with a gun to your head. you finally forced yourself to nod, already feeling out of breath, “very much so…” you smiled playfully, despite your body giving you signals that you were in a life threatening situation. bob smirked smugly, “and to think i’m still worn out from last night…” you huffed slightly as he shifted off of you- just slightly- now sitting just above your hips, just looking down at you casually, “tease.” he smirked, just eyeing you, “do you think it will take the other one- the golden one- to get your fill of me?”

sentry had been allowed to come out pretty regularly, especially now that bob had full control of his powers. he was quite convenient, really. he had nearly endless powers and made everything easier, faster, and usually safer. sentry would come out as the two of you would go on your evening walks. some evenings, he would come out just to hold you against him as you hovered on the roof, looking at the stars, watching the traffic go by. he was the strongest aspect of the team, but bob still was reluctant to let him out on missions; a part of him still scared he would get carried away or lose control. especially if you were involved; the other other one would come out if he thought you were in any sort of danger- or could, potentially be in danger at any point, in your entire life, ever. sentry tended to be much more jealous and protective than bob. not that bob wasn’t- it was as if it had been dialed to one hundred. void, however… if you were ever flirted with, looked at wrong, looked at in sexual way, or touched by anyone, void would claw his way to the surface, taking complete control without any warning or chance of stopping him. he was bob, multiplied by one thousand. he was sentry, dialed to one hundred. in a twisted way, it was quite like having three husbands… all three protective, all three keeping you the priority, all three obsessed with you.

you hummed, hands resting against his hips, “baby, honestly, i could probably wear the other two out too before i ever got tired of you. and i mean that sincerely. in more ways than one.” you smirked slightly at the last comment as he leaned in to kiss you. he laughed slightly against your lips, “i truly love your confidence. but the other two physically can’t get tired.” you hummed again, thinking, debating, “i’m willing to test that.” bob smirked deeply, eyes darkening just slightly at the thought, “i’m pretty sure you like having full use of your legs though, right?” you gasped up at him, smacking him gently. you held back a laugh, he was holding back an amused smirk. it was a wonderful thought, but really, there’s no way you would last.

painfully, rudely, bob shifted off you, “i’m going to go take a shower. probably a cold one.” he eyed you at the last part, amused smirk spreading across his face. you eyed him coolly, watching him round the corner towards your room. you would have joined him, if you didn’t hate cold showers more than anything.

you ordered pizza for dinner, begrudgingly. bob had insisted if you weren’t going to let him cook, he was demanding a night off from cooking for you. you were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket with your head in his lap. he had picked jurassic park and you didn’t complain. bob would laugh at you every time you jumped, despite seeing the movies a dozen times. he stroked your hair, pulling him closer against him. “if dinosaurs came back from extinction,” you shifted to look up at him with an amused smile, hoping he never stopped with his questions that drove the others crazy, “what ones would you want to come back?” you hummed as you considered, “definitely no carnivores. definitely not raptors…” “did you know that actual raptors were very small and had feathers?” you eyed him, failing to hide your adoring smile, “can i answer your first question?” bob blushed, ducking his head slightly with a shy smile, “sorry…” god, you loved this man– with his stupid questions that didn’t feel stupid to you; and his random facts that you always remembered, keeping them tucked in your head. “triceratops and brachiosaurus.” bob contemplated, hummed once, then nodded, satisfied with your answer. “okay, if you could be any dinosaur, what would you pick?” bob looked down at you with a huge smile, thrilled that you had joined him in his “stupid questions”, “micro raptor.” you scrunched your eyebrows and looked up at him, “why a—“ he held both hands up, measuring a small size between his hands, “they’re the size of a crow, so you could carry me around.” you snorted, shaking your head. god, he was so adorable it made you dizzy. “what about you?” he was still smiling, clearly very proud of himself for that answer. “pterodactyl. just so i could fly.” bob tilted his head when he looked down at you; a very playful, very dangerous look on his face, “you want to fly?” you regretted it immediately. you were terrified of heights, but obviously a flying dinosaur wouldn’t be. “no, i don’t- i really don’t-“ he still was looking at you, eyes now glowing gold in the dark room.

oh, no.

“you never told me you wanted to fly… you realize i know a guy for that? you realize i am that guy?” you exhaled, shaking slightly, “you’ve taken me flying-“ it was a lie; bob had held you several times as he hovered a few feet off the ground. when he was kissing you, you were distracted enough not to be stupid enough to look down. oh, but he looked so excited. and so hurt that you had never mentioned it…

ohh- what the hell…

“please?” bob had pulled you to your feet, pulling you against him, burrowing his face against your neck, “please let me take you.. just once…” damn it, damn it, damn it. you couldn’t do this. you could not do this. why had you even said that? why had you even considered it? absolutely not. there was no way you could–

“don’t drop me.”

you had to stop yourself from slapping a hand over your mouth and looking insane. where the hell had that come from? why was that what came out of your mouth? bob’s eyes glowed brighter and you cursed. he was pushing the elevator button before you could argue, dragging you along behind him eagerly, like a child heading to a toy store. you were holding your breath. you knew you were holding your breath and that you needed to breathe, but you physically couldn’t. the elevator doors opened to the roof and you felt nauseous. bob wrapped his arms around you and nearly stumbled as you tensed yourself up like a board. “baby—“ he tilted your head up to look at him, fighting your tense posture, “we don’t have to do this… you said you wanted to. that’s the only reason i offered…” you took deep breaths, trying to avoid his eyes, trying to pull yourself together and convince yourself you weren’t going to die. bob obviously wouldn’t drop you.

bob stroked your jaw, pulling your attention back to him, “do you want to do this?” you really did. you nodded once, fighting away the fearful tears that were staring to form. bob held stepped back, hands on your shoulders, bending slightly to look into your eyes, “do you trust me?” you really, really did, with everything in you. you nodded once, biting your lip, stepping into his chest. “what if you drop me?” your eyes were squeezed shut, face buried in your husband’s shirt, squeaking pathetically as you felt your feet leave the ground. “i promise i won’t drop you, sweetheart.” you clawed your way closer to him as wind picked up in your face. you could just tell you were much higher up than you had been. “what if you do?” bob exhaled, tightening his hold on you even more, just to make you feel more secure, “i won’t.” “but what if you did?” you heard him laugh slightly and you would have smacked him if you weren’t clinging to him for dear life. “if i drop you, the other guy will catch you.” “and what if—“ he cut you off again, clearly trying to hide his amusement, “if sentry drops you- which we never would- then the other one will catch you. as an absolute last resort.” you exhaled, relaxing slightly.

“open your eyes…”

you did, slowly; it took everything in you not to scream and start flailing in a panic. you were at least one hundred feet above the tower, overlooking the city- which you felt like you could see all of. “i’ve got you.” you couldn’t breathe completely, voice shaking as you replied, “i know.” “hold on…” you could hear the smirk on his face in his words; it was his plotting tone..

“robert, no! don’t you dare-“

his arms tightened around you, shifting slightly to hold you up at a different angle.

“this was quite enough-“

you screamed as he jolted forward like a torpedo, flying above the city like a rocket. “slow down–! robert, i swear—“ you swore you heard his laughter above the roaring wind in your ears. he slowed, hovering once again. he took your hands, eyes coming to meet yours. his expression was passionate, fiery, so full of love you thought you may melt. he brought one hand to your cheek, stroking it as he leaned in for a kiss. kissing this high above the city was invigorating, it felt even more like flying, it felt like you weren’t even—

he wasn’t holding you.

he had a hand on your waist and hand on your cheek but he was not holding you.

you began hyperventilating, flailing frantically to get back into his arms. “hey! hey hey hey-“ bob grabbed your shoulders, “look at me, sweetheart. look at me.” you forced your wide eyes to him, trying to ignore the screaming in your head, trying to force away the panic slamming against your chest. “look at me…” his voice softened, pulling you back to him. “i. have. got. you.” then, horrifically, he let go of you completely. you didn’t fall. you didn’t scream. you didn’t panic. you just kept your eyes locked on your husband, watching a proud smile spread across his face, “look at you…” he moved forward, wrapping his arms around you again. “god, i love you. god, you’re spectacular. i’m so proud of you.” you were smiling- widely. bob wrapped his arms around the back of you, kissing your head and then resting his chin on top of it. you exhaled slowly, looking out over the city, “it’s..beautiful up here.” you lay your head back against his shoulder.

“thank you for this… i love you.”

“i love you more…”

“not possible.”

bob held you tightly, flying you back to the tower at a steady pace. you buried your face into his neck, placing lazy kisses up his neck and along his jaw. he groaned just slightly, tilting his head back to give you easier access, “careful,” his voice was low, warning, “i might drop you…” he smirked playfully. “the other guy will just catch me, then…” bob exhaled, it came out as a low growl, “don’t… don’t bring them up right now.” you smirked, “jealous?” he narrowed his eyes at you slightly as your feet touched solid ground again. you dug through your pocket and pulled out the key for the roof entrance. you felt hands gently slide down your sides. you dropped the keys again, bending down to grab them again. bob stepped closer to you, right behind you, just barely pressed up against you. you sharply inhaled, knowing exactly what he was doing. he rubbed your back, innocently. “stop…” you stood up and faced him, and there, just behind his eyes, was the look. you smirked innocently, unlocking the door as bob backed you into it, agonizingly, kissing you slowly.

“i love you.”

he ran his fingers through your hair, tugging gently, backing you through the door with more urgency now. he closed the door behind him, nearly tripping down the stairs. bob had picked you up, your arms wrapped around his waist. your back hit the wall beside the elevator, his thumb repeatedly pushing the button, as if it would make the elevator arrive faster. your fingers slid up his shirt and he breathed in sharply against your lips. the elevator dinged, the door slid open and your back hit another wall. shirts were discarded before the doors had closed completely; bob propped you up against the handrail on the back wall, tucking himself against your knees. the elevator dinged again and you were picked up, carried, and dropped on the couch- not remotely gentle. he climbed over you, hovering over you slightly, looking down at you with the same dark expression.

you stretched up to meet his lips, pulling him down against you. you were already breathless; both giddy and giggling like lovesick teenagers. the elevator dinged once again, though you were both too distracted to hear it. “surprise! we are back early— oh god.” bob nearly screamed, almost falling off the couch. you hadn’t really even been doing anything that shocking- yet… you sat up, trying to subtly adjust your sports bra, while bob looked like a deer in headlights, beet red. bucky, ava and yelena stood just outside the elevator, bags hanging stiffly by their sides, one was smirking, one was glaring, one was covering her mouth. “i’m moving out.” bucky dropped his bag where he stood, walking briskly to his room without another word. “we were just— we thought you weren’t coming back for a few more days…” yelena raised an eybrow, expression flat. “we were watching a movie…” he nodded once, trying to sound confident as he straightened himself up again, sitting on the opposite end of the couch as you. “a movie…” yelena deadpanned, eyeing him with the slightest hint of amusement. “must not have been very interesting.” ava smirked, looking away from the pair. “we had already seen it.” you smirked, deciding to own it. yelena just rolled her eyes, “good night, люблю птиц…” you smirked slightly, watching the pair head to their rooms. bob shifted, putting his arm around you once he knew they were gone, “what did she call us?” “love birds.” he smirked, looking down at you to give you one more kiss, “fitting.” he stood to his feet, turned off the tv and held out a hand to help you up. he tucked you against him, both arms around you, fingers double interlocked with yours as you trailed him along behind you, towards your room. he placed a kiss on your temple and you thought, achingly, that the others should all be away on missions more often.

***

a/n: i’m not sure how i feel about this tbh. i just needed fluff

[callsign-swan]

Cover up

The Thunderbolts* are onto him, but Bob has the perfect little cover up.

Part 2 to sneaking around (can be read as a standalone)

"She's cute."

Bob stopped, the elevator doors sliding shut behind him. For a good moment, everybody else had the vision of him being dragged to the floor, the back of his sweater caught.

But that didn't happen.

Bob swallowed as he looked at Yelena. The woman that had become his best friend since he'd learnt to enjoy life again, since he found somewhere he belonged.

It didn't feel right to lie.

"She? Who's she?" John asked, unintentionally saving Bob's ass. Giving him the time he needed to think of a good lie.

Well, it would have been a good lie, if he didn't look so damn panicked.

"I was at the shelter!" Bob said quickly. "Gonna adopt a cat."

"We don't need another cat," Bucky said from the sofa, his flesh arm against his forehead as he laid there. On his chest, Alpine seemed to purr louder.

But Bob doubled down. "This would be my cat," he explained, his forehead beginning to sweat. "Company while you guys are saving the world."

"Bob's a cat guy," John muttered as he walked away. "Who knew?"

But Yelena wasn't buying it. Of course she wasn't; she was the one that had witnessed Bob out on a date. She was the one who had seen him buy flowers, seen him kiss her forehead and hold her hand.

So, she once more followed Bob. "Buying a cat my ass!" She called after him as they walked the corridors of the watch tower. "You were on a date!"

"It wasn't a date!" Bob insisted, his hands doing most of the talking. "We're just... friends."

"Friends don't treat each other like that, Bob," she insisted. "Friends don't buy bouquets of flowers that nice for each other. Friends don't kiss each others foreheads and hold hands."

For a moment, Bob stared at her. She was right, he was more than friends with that girl, but Yelena was dead wrong. He made a mental note to get her some flowers. Maybe not kiss her forehead, not if he wanted to keep breathing.

"Just..." he sucked in a breath. "I'm not ready to tell the others yet. Can we keep this between us?"

Lips pursed, arms folded over her chest, she was the image of a stern mother. But then she dropped her arms. "We can keep this between us," he said and patted his shoulder.

Bob let himself smile before he disappeared into his room.

***

"Stop squirming," he whispered to the little bundle in his arms. The elevator carried them both up and Garfield wouldn't stop.

Garfield. She wasn't even an orange cat. She wasn't even a male. Nothing about her said Garfield, but that was her name.

The absurdity of the entire situation hadn't yet hit Bob.

Maybe it was because she was at the shelter with him, playing with the dogs (he couldn't handle having a dog) and cuddling with the cats. She had been the one to pick Garfield.

"It's bad luck to change her name," she told him as she carried the pet carrier, Bob's hand on her back.

"Trust me," Bob said, stopping outside of her apartment. "I don't need anymore bad luck."

So the grey cat with the sweet pink nose was Garfield.

Her story wasn't a tragedy. A home with kids and she didn't like kids. Bob could work with that. Bob could give her a good life.

"Oh my god he really did it," Yelena muttered, looking up from her game of cards.

Garfield raised her head from the crook of Bob's elbow (he'd taken her out of the carrier as soon as they were inside).

"Everybody, this is Garfield," he said, placing her carrier down to scratch the top of her head. "This is definitely who Yelena was talking about the other week."

All eyes were on him. "Garfield?" At least three people asked.

"Like, the 'I hate mondays' guy?" John asked.

"He's not Garfield coloured," Ava finished.

"She," Bob corrected.

The New Avengers stared at him, unblinking. "She?" Bucky asked. "She's called Garfield?"

"Bob-" John stopped himself from adding two more letters, from turning it into a name full of bad memories. "Bob, you gotta change her name."

"I can't," he answered. "Bad luck."

John's eyebrows raised. "Bad luck?"

"'S bad luck to change a cats name once you've adopted it." Plus, she loved the name, but the New Avengers didn't need to know that.

When Garfield yawned, the room seemed to soften. Earth's new mightiest heroes gave a collective 'aww' and moved closer.

While they all stared at her, pet her grey fur and let her sniff their hands with her pink nose, Yelena looked at Bob. One point to him, she guessed. Plus, Garfield really was the cutest little cover up.

[jjscrybaby]

What if sweetheart kook’s male cousin visits and JJ and JB spot them together at the mall. And they look like friendly and all cause they are relatives but JJ doesn’t know it so he gets insecure thinking the reader finally realised he is not enough for her. When the reader invites him over he thinks she’s gonna break the news of break but instead he meets her cousin, gets relieved and they have a movie night.

jj maybank x sweetheart!reader | resolved angst | (jealous!jj, misunderstandings, reader & jj being a bit oblivious, fluffy ending!)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“This is so fuckin’ boring,” JJ complained for the sixth time in the last hour. John B needed a perfect gift for Sarah’s upcoming birthday, and apparently that meant JJ had to spend his Saturday afternoon in the mall. The only person he’d go to the mall with without complaining was you.

“Just shut up. I told you I’d buy you churros,” John B sighed, looking through the array of necklaces that the girl behind the counter had gotten out for him. The majority were out of his price range, but it was still nice to get ideas for the future.

As JJ leant against the wall, subtly hitting his vape under his sleeve, he felt his mind go to you. He’d texted a few times, asked if you wanted to come over before he knew he’d be stuck with John B, but you’d said you were busy. He assumed that meant hanging out with the few Kook girls you actually liked. He was halfway through thinking about if he should buy you something when he looked up and out the shop window, his eyes landing on a sight he never wanted to see.

You sat on a bench, a boy next to you showing you something on his phone. You were giggling, swatting at his arm as the two of you shared some fries. JJ’s face fell, his stomach dropped and he suddenly had an urge to throw up. Sure, you weren’t his girlfriend, but it was a known fact that you liked each other. It was just a waiting game at the moment, him trying to plan how to gain the confidence to pop the question, but maybe he’d left it too long. Maybe you’d thought about it and realised you didn’t really like him. He was a Pogue, that was all he’d ever be.

“I’m leaving,” JJ announced, catching John B’s attention who turned to him in confusion. He looked past JJ, seeing the same thing the blonde was staring intently at.

“Shit, Jay,” John B muttered, placing his arm on his friend’s shoulder. “Maybe it’s not what it looks like. They’re just talking.”

“Fuck that,” JJ scoffed. “I’m not a mug. If she doesn’t want me, fine, but I’m not lettin’ myself be played by a Kook.”

“Hey. Don’t talk about her like she doesn’t mean shit to you when we both know she does. Let her explain, alright? Don’t blow your shit and ruin this, okay? You’ll regret it,” John B warned.

Thankfully, John B picked out a necklace and the two of them were back at the Chateau within the hour. JJ sulked in his room, smoking a joint and thinking about the way that boy had you giggling. You’re not the kind of girl to lead someone on, he knows that, that’s why he’s so confused. If you were seeing someone you would have told him… right?

It was half seven when his phone pinged, your contact showing up on the screen with a text. ‘come over for a movie night? my parents aren’t here <333’. What was this? The other dude gets you for lunch and he gets you for dinner? How is that fair? He wanted to ignore you, but the little hearts you’d added to the message had him softening. Before he knew it, he was on his bike heading over to your place.

You opened the door within seconds, little pyjamas on with a sweet smile playing on your lips. You squealed, happy to see him as you threw your arms around him like it had been weeks since you last saw each other. As hurt as he was, he couldn’t help but hug you back — inhaling the scent of your vanilla shampoo.

“Missed you,” you murmured, smiling up at him like you hadn’t been with another man all day.

“Yeah, uh, missed you too,” he muttered. Your face scrunched up in confusion, he was normally a lot more reciprocate of your excitement.

Your hand wrapped around his arm, pulling him inside your house. You lead him into the living room and he froze. The boy was sat on your couch, scrolling on his phone. What was he doing here? Had you invited JJ over just to break the news that you just wanted to be friends? He’d try, sure, but he wasn’t sure he could go back to being just friends.

“Oh! Jay, this is Daniel. Daniel, this is JJ,” you introduced, a smile on your face as you looked between them.

“Ah, this is JJ,” Daniel smirked, a teasing tone to his voice that had your cheeks heating up.

“Yeah, yeah. Can you go upstairs? We’re having movie night,” you explained. “I mean… you can stay, I guess. But you won’t want to, we’re watching rom-coms and you hate—”

“I can take a hint,” he interrupted with a chuckle, getting up from the couch. He gave JJ a warm smile and ruffled your hair as he passed. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He called as he disappeared up the stairs.

“What is he doing here?” JJ didn’t mean to sound so aggressive, but he couldn’t help it. Why were you acting like this was completely normal?

“Hm?” You hummed, turning to look at him worriedly. “Um, he’s visiting for the week from college.”

“Your parents know he’s here?” Now he knows he isn’t going to win this competition. He hasn’t even met your parents! How is this fair? The first girl he properly falls for and she’s got some secret boyfriend.

“Well, yeah.”

“And they’re just fine with that?” He scoffed, pulling away from the hold you had on his arm.

“Well, he is my mom’s nephew,” you mumbled, looking at him anxiously. You weren’t sure what you’d done wrong. You knew you hadn’t seen JJ today, but you hadn’t seen your older cousin since Christmas and you didn’t think it was polite to not spend at least one day showing him around the island.

JJ’s head snapped towards you. He was silent for a moment, before a laugh left his mouth. Daniel was your cousin. JJ had spent the entire day freaking out over you having a boyfriend when said boyfriend was your cousin. “Fuck, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I was a dick.”

“I’m confused,” you said softly, stepping towards him hesitantly.

He strode over to you, arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed an apologetic kiss to your temple. “I saw you earlier, at the mall—”

“You were at the mall? Without me?” You pouted, interrupting him.

“It was torture, trust me, but not as fuckin’ torturous as me thinkin’ you had some secret man that you’d kept from me,” he confessed.

“Did I… did I not mention I was hanging out with my cousin?” You were sure you’d told him, but now that you really thought about maybe that was Sarah you’d told he was coming to visit. Your cheeks heated up, maybe because you felt guilty but also because you couldn’t help the flutter in your chest that had appeared once you realised that JJ had been jealous.

“No, baby,” he chuckled, looking down at you. “I should’ve asked, though. Shouldn’t have been a dick, ‘m sorry. And when your cousin comes back down I won’t stare at him like I’m gonna kill him.”

“Mkay,” you hummed with a giggle, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Only want you, Jayj. Thought you’d have worked that out by now.”

This time it was his turn to blush. He rolled his eyes, but a smile played on his lips as he lifted you up and sat down on the couch with you in his lap. He kissed your jaw, stroking your cheek as he stared at you in awe.

“You’re the only one I want, too.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

How would the boys react to you having bratty attitude sorry if u have done this before

Technically, I did have someone send in something similar (which y'all can read HERE) but there is a distinct difference between the asks. But also, whenever any of y'all leave the prompt a bit open-ended, I will always allow myself to ignore my self-control and just go for unhinged spice. So, yes. Attitudes are dealt with...enjoy!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: bratting, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, dom/sub dynamics, swearing, punishment, sex toys, overstimulation, collaring

Word Count: 1.3k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Please, John. No more. I can’t.”

Your body trembles, wanting release but not receiving it. John moves the vibrator up and down your pussy, purposefully avoiding your clit or penetrating you with it. Somehow, you are overstimulated and yet entirely unsatisfied.

It was just a bit of bratting—a bit of fun. Goddamn him for making you regret it.

“Told you what the punishment would be. I was very clear, love,” murmurs John. He teasingly brings the vibrator up to your clit, allowing it to stimulate those nerves for a few seconds of perfect bliss before turning it off.

You whimper, hips bucking, wanting more. John tuts and taps the vibrator against your lips. It’s sticky with your slickness, and you obediently open your mouth. He slides it inside just enough to not choke you, but enough for you to clean some of yourself off of it.

Dipping his head, John lightly grazes your nipple with his teeth. It sends a sharp pang through you, only adding to the unfulfilled desire. Removing the vibrator from your mouth, he clicks it back on, running it up and down your body.

“I listed every possible punishment. We agreed that I would choose. And this is what I’ve chosen,” he says calmly, bringing it down to your pussy again.

“I hate it,” you moan, trying to angle your hips enough so that the device might make contact.

“Use your safe word if you have to, love.”

You keep your mouth shut.

John smiles against your skin. “Thought so.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Feel good?” You nod. “Not too tight?” asks Kyle.

“It’s fine.”

He tilts his head, lips slightly pursed. “Let’s try it out.”

“Try it out?”

The collar buzzes, vibrating against your skin. “Jesus fucking Christ. What was that?”

“Did it hurt?”

“No,” you reply, confused. “Just—weird.”

Kyle grins. “Perfect.”

“Perfect? What is this?”

“Your punishment,” responds Kyle.

“My—oh.”

Oh, yes. The bratting from yesterday. The attitude and pushback you flaunted around all day because it felt good and you thought you could get away with.

Kyle drops onto the sofa and lightly taps the cushion next to him. You obediently sit, the fabric scratching against your bare ass. Now you understand why you’re naked.

“For the rest of the day, you have to get my permission to do anything.”

“Do I have permission to talk?”

“Only if it’s to ask me for something.”

You roll your eyes. “What about breathing?”

“This is what I’m talking about,” says Kyle. “That attitude.”

He’s right. This is the exact thing that has you in trouble with him in the first place. But if you’re going to be stuck like this on the sofa, you need something to drink.

Swallowing down your pride, you glance at Kyle. “May I please go to the kitchen?”

Kyle nods. “You may.”

You stand, and the buzzer in the collar goes off. Instinct as you turning to tell him off but Kyle is already talking. “Didn’t give you permission to stand.”

This fucking asshole.

“May I please—”

Buzz.

“Kyle—”

Buzz.

“What the fuck!”

“You’re still standing,” he says calmly.

You throw yourself back down onto the couch and, with a hint of a growl, say, “May I please stand?”

Kyle licks his lips. “Course you can, love.”

“Thank you,” you mutter, standing.

You make it three steps before the buzzer goes off again. Halting, you turn, and Kyle makes a gesture with his arms like he’s walking. You’re going to murder him after this.

“Do I have your permission to walk to the kitchen?”

Kyle grins, and nods.

Two minutes in and you’re already losing your mind.

You don’t walk to the kitchen. You stomp.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny taps his phone screen with his thumb. The clitoral suction stimulator toy starts up again immediately. Every muscle within you viscerally reacts. The sharp clench causes your body to jerk in Johnny’s arms, but there is nowhere to go.

His thick, muscled arms keep you pinned against him and the bed. Your legs are spread wide, open to the bedroom, his knees forcing them apart. Between your legs is the suction toy, vibrating away, pulsing little bursts of air outward that feel like Johnny has his mouth on your clit and not a device. Johnny’s cock sits inside you to the hilt. He does not fuck you. His hips remain still as yours flex and rock, wanting to escape from the overstimulation but hardly moving at all.

“Thought I’d reward you for being a brat?” he murmurs against your ear.

Johnny taps the phone screen again and the toy’s suction shifts to a different rhythm. Your pussy clenches down on his cock and Johnny grunts.

You have no idea how many orgasms you’ve had. Johnny keeps forcing them out of you, one after the other. Sweat drenches your brow and the back of your neck.

“Please,” you whimper.

“Please, what?” prompts Johnny, adjusting the toy slightly.

The orgasm is ripped from you. It’s almost violent the way you cry out, fingers digging into his thigh and the bedsheets.

Another tap and the toy clicks off.

“Love,” he whispers, lightly rocking his hips, cock sliding in and out of you languidly. “You didn’t answer me.”

Just as you open your mouth to answer, Johnny taps the screen again. The stimulator turns on and your mind bends backwards, falling into a whirlwind of lust.

All you did was give him a bit of attitude—a bit of bratty banter. You expected Johnny to spank you or even bend you over the nearest surface and fuck your brains out. But this?

This is punishment.

“Guess I’ll keep going, love,” muses Johnny, clearly enjoying this. “Until you find your words.” He lowers his voice. “You had plenty to say earlier.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

A punishment is brewing. You feel it like an innate instinct. Simon’s been simmering all day, bubbling like a witch’s cauldron. Whenever he gets like this, you know when you walk through the door, he’ll be on you, deliciously torturing you until you’re completely spent.

Sometimes it’s good to be bratty—to push back against the things he tells you to do even if they are good for you.

Did you eat breakfast this morning?

Drink some water.

Do the chores you’re supposed to do.

Complete those errands.

You’re independent. You’re an adult. But having Simon tell you what needs done just to do the opposite is a euphoric rush. Bratting is just a game. A bit of fun. There are really no stakes here, just an outlet for your attitude and a need to be playful.

“You’re late,” says Simon, checking his watch as you walk through the door. “You were supposed to be home an hour ago.”

“The time got away from me,” you shrug, depositing your purse and keys on the sofa and not in the designated spot near the front door.

Simon crosses his arms over his chest, observing you quietly for a few seconds before speaking. “Have something for you.” You eagerly follow him into the kitchen. “Sit,” he says, pointing to the kitchen table.

You drop into it, knowing that you’re about to get exactly what you want. Simon disappears for a full minute before returning. He sets a piece of lined paper down in front of you. You glance up at him, confused.

“What’s this?”

Instead of answering your question verbally, he places a pencil on top of it.

“Simon,” you probe.

“I want you to write ‘I will do as my dom says’ over and over until you fill up every line.”

You balk, as Simon takes a step back. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s perfectly fair,” shrugs Simon. “Think I was going to spank you? This is punishment. Do as your told and maybe I’ll give you a treat.”

“Simon,” you protest, watching him go. “Simon!”

He simply waves. “Don’t make me get the handcuffs.”

“Fucker,” you mutter, picking up the pencil.

[novemberheart]

{overview} The cycle completes itself

{warnings} fem reader, poly 141, a/b/o dynamics, MDNI, p in v smex, mating cycles, marking, cursing, Simon and John chapter

Chapter 33 <- Chapter 34 -> Chapter 35

It wasn't like how everyone had described it.

It wasn't some euphoric high, that had you screaming with pleasure.

It wasn't painful.

It was gentle.

It was stable.

It was secure.

You were no longer alone in the world.

You were protected, loved, and valued.

You weren't alone in the world.

You were safe.

You were no longer alone in the world.

Warmth flooded you. Tears rolled down your cheeks. Your heartbeat slowed in your chest, your muscles relaxing. Those three seconds felt like a lifetime, your mind moving from its halt to overdrive. You leaned forward your teeth catching his shoulder completing the cycle. He growled against you, the vibrations going straight through your new mark.

It burned.

Hands grabbed you ready to pull you away. He wasn't deep enough in his rut for it to not hurt. He held up his hand to stop them, his mouth still refusing to leave your neck.

He had experienced much worse for far less reward.

He knew this might’ve happened when he marked you. It would only be natural for you to return the favor.

The initial pain left, a sudden wave of iciness crashing over him. It was welcomed compared to the feeling of being lit on fire from the inside out. He was changing. Every fiber of his being altering to better serve you. He was no longer just an alpha.

He was your alpha.

The greatest title one could have.

His fangs throbbed at the excursion and he finally felt satisfied enough to detach himself. He licked across the teeth indents, his saliva the perfect remedy to help it heal nicely. Couldn't have you walking around butchered after all. You whined against him, the warmth leaving your body in an instant.

You wished the feeling stayed. You whimpered, your fangs shrinking back to their normal size, your mouth detaching from his shoulder with a pop. Your mind worked on its own, instincts running hot. Your tongue soothed over the spot, sending a pleasant shiver up his spine. The two of you were useless, needing all the help you could get to roll you together. You both woke up a bit from the jostling, you pushing your way under his tank top to press against his chilled skin. They built a nest around you as best they could, you still clinging onto Johnny’s shirt. Their bodies acted like walls to keep out even the idea of any threats entering this sanctuary. Simon's eyes met theirs- hazy yet thankful, before lulling to sleep.

He woke up to your teeth on his arm. He chuckled lowly, his hand smoothing over the back of your head.

“Yes, pretty girl?” He murmured, nothing but patience and adoration in his voice. You smiled up at him cheekily, rolling onto your back, exposing your neck to him. Simon's bite was developing nicely. It was too bruised to make out the details yet. “One bite wasn't enough, hmmmm?” he grumbled, his teeth grazing against your chest.

“No,” you breathed in agreement. Your body twitched in excitement, your hands wandering around his body. John had the perfect balance of muscle and fat, warmth and strength.

You purred at his scent. His normal campfirey scent weighted down by the scent of an alpha in a rut. You preened at the thought that you were the one that brought the scent forward.

“What do you need, sweet girl?” He hummed, his lips soft against your shoulder.

“You,” you mumbled, your fingers racking through his hair. “And maybe a bath?” you added, making him chuckle.

“I like the sound of both of those,” He smiled, already moving to stand. Simon was still out like a light next to you. “How ‘bout we leave that here so it doesn't get wet,” John suggested.

“Simon?” you questioned softly. John's shoulders shook as he laughed, his hands reaching out to grab at Johnny’s shirt you were still clinging to.

“This, sweetheart,” he said softly, pulling it away from you. You flushed, rolling your eyes at yourself. You didn't have time to dwell on it, his hands hoisting you up from under your pits. You were about to insist on being able to walk, but the feeling of being so close to him quickly drowned that out.

He drew the two of you a bath, his thumbs already beginning to loosen the tight muscles that had formed.

“Where are the betas,” you questioned, your hands smoothing over his broad chest.

“Your betas are getting us some lunch,” he responded instantly. “How does your bite feel?”

“Fine,” you assured. It only stung a bit when you got some of the warm water on it. Your body wasn't rejecting it. You sighed, resting your head against his chest. His heartbeat could easily lull you to sleep, your eyes already growing heavy, yet your body had other plans.

“Alpha,” you whined, resting your chin against his chest, and staring up at him. He groaned, leaning down so his forehead was against yours. He pressed a kiss against your head, shushing you softly, continuing to clean. He maneuvered you so your back was against his chest.

You purred as his soapy hand ducked between your thighs.

“Easy, pretty,” he soothed one large hand prying your legs apart. His thumb ran over your folds, before settling on a lazy rhythm against your little bundle of nerves. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip, your hips rolling against his hand.

He pulled his hand away.

You growled nastily at him and he swatted your bottom. He put you on your feet and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, letting the tub drain out. He turned over his shoulder staring at you expectantly.

“I'm sorry for growling at you,” you mumbled, your eyes shining with tears. You should know better than to egg an alpha on while he was in a rut. He placed a kiss against your lips.

“S’alright sweetheart,” he soothed. His eyes were soft, almost like the interaction had amused him. “Now how about you hop up on the counter and spread those pretty legs for me, hmmm?”

“You two done in there?” Simon grunted from the bed. John chuckled, seemingly unfazed by the brutal pounding that just took place in the bathroom. John tossed you on the bed, Simon's hand immediately spreading across your lower stomach. Could he feel John's warmth from there? You sighed happily, stretching your sore- but satisfied limbs against the sheets.

You could faintly hear a ruckus coming from the living room, John rolling his eyes.

“Betas must be back,” he nearly chuckled. He moved towards the door, throwing an ‘I’ll be back’ over his shoulder.

You rubbed at your tired eyes, slowly rolling them over to look at Simon.

He was already staring at you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, the overwhelming desire to press yourself so close to him so you would be joined together forever.

His jaw was clenched shut, his eyes unsure of what to do. Tears welled in them, and he quickly cleared his throat beginning to move away from you.

“No!” you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades. “You’re my alpha now,” you breathed. “You can't just pull away from me because you feel something, Simon. Please don't run away from it,” your words were desperate, your face buried in his neck, your cheek brushing against the mark on his shoulder. “I need you,” you whined, your grip on his tightening.

His body relaxed from above yours causing both of you to sink into the mattress.

“Then you'll have me,” he muttered with absolute certitude. The sentiment was more powerful than an ’I love you.’ For Simon, the act of giving himself was more terrifying and meaningful than throwing around those three overused words.

He groaned against you as you slammed your lips into his. It was sloppy, relentless, and passionate just like your relationship with him.

“Wanted to make you mine for so long, pup,” he groaned, his tongue flattening against the mark on your skin. His mark. His mouth swallowed yours again, the thick fabric of his sweats not able to hide the throbbing member confined in them. “Whose mark is this?” he growled, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep them spread.

“Yours,” you panted. “My alphas,” you gasped. He vibrated against you, the purr in his chest feeling like a bolt of lightning against your skin. Your hands scratched at his broad torso, pulling at the light gray fabric.

You could feel his smirk against you as he kissed the various love bites that littered your skin.

“Can I take you, pup?” he murmured against you. You nodded rapidly, rolling your hips up to meet his. The question was; could you take him? You couldn't even bring yourself to look, keeping your eyes steady on the ceiling. He clicked his tongue at you, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ll go slow, pup. Won't hurt at all,” he assured. You rested your hands on either side of his cheek, connecting your lips with his.

It felt so right being in his arms. Looking back now all the fights and feelings you had towards him felt silly, but it made you appreciate this moment all the more. Your hands rolled down his body, pulling at the hem of his tank top. You faltered when you felt him flinch.

“Can I?” you whispered. “It is mine after all,” you smiled up at him. He smirked, nodding softly. He pulled the tank over his head, dropping it to the floor. Your stomach turned a bit at the painful scars that littered him. The biggest going all the way from his collar down to his ribs. One spot caught your eye. A burn mark on his hip, just peeking out over the waistband of his sweats.

“Look familiar?” he teased softly, following your gaze.

You wiped your eyes.

“It does.”

It was the injury that sent you to them.

How far you all have come.

You traced your hands over every inch of him. He let you, his eyes shutting softly. You paused at your mark, running your fingers over the sore flesh. It had already begun to heal and scab over. It looked a little funny next to John's large one, but they complimented each other. Your hands pulling at his sweats caused his eyes to open.

“Alright, sweet girl,” he hushed, helping you shake his pants off. Your eyes still refused to look down at him, feeling the weight of him slap between your thighs was enough. He pushed the pillows around and brought the blanket up over the two of you, a sentiment that made your omega purr. He was building a nest for the both of you. You rested your heated cheek against his shoulder, taking a deep breath when you felt the head of his cock catch against your entrance.

The push-in was slow, your body greedily accepting every inch and stretch. You thought it was safe to look down, figuring you were almost there only to see only half of him buried inside you. Your head flopped against the pillow, your half-lidded eyes meeting his. You were too embarrassed to admit the pressure building in your stomach was about to snap.

“Simon,” you mumbled, your thighs shaking around his waist.

“Doin’ so good, pup,” he breathed. His thumb circled your clit lazily, a rough growl leaving him as you came around his cock. “That easy?” he grumbled, teeth biting at your cheek.

“Feels so good,” you gasped, your hands resting on your shaky thighs.

“Wasn’t even fully in and you’re already comin’ around me?” he smirked. “Such a good omega,” he praised, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You grew restless when he refused to move, his eyes taking in every inch of you.

“Simon,” you muttered, wiggling your hips. He snarled, large hands keeping you in place. “You’re too big to stay still like that,” you whined. It wasn't unpleasant, it was a toe-curling fullness, but the spasming happening throughout your body was wearing on you. “Simon, please,” you continued.

“Fuckin’ made for me weren't you?” he mumbled, sending a shockwave through you. The last bit of his self restraint snapping when you rippled around him. He pulled out just enough for you to miss the fullness before pushing his hips back into yours. You couldn't help but squeak your hands grabbing at the pillows for support. He grabbed your hands guiding them to his shoulders. “Don’t worry about scratching me up, pup,” he purred, his pace quickening before you could process his words. Truth be told he wanted you to claw at him. He wanted every bit of proof, every bit of assurance that this was real. You were here. Under him and marked, beautiful wet eyes staring up at him with such feeling he couldn't hold your gaze for as long as he craved to.

God, did he fucking love you.

You whined when you felt a growing bulge at the base of his cock.

“Don't worry ‘bout that, pretty,” Simon panted, holding himself sheathed inside you. It was a pattern for him, give you five or six hard thrusts before keeping himself buried to the hilt inside you for as long as he wanted.

“I want it,” you whined, nails dragging up his sides.

“Yeah?” he questioned breathlessly. He pushed his hips deeper, the tip of his knot pushing you closer to your limit. You didn't care though. You needed it. Needed to be filled by your alpha. It was the only thing that would make you better. The only thing that would calm the fire blazing through your veins.

“Need it,” you added through a shriek. His thrusts were rhythmic now, working you open as much as he could to take his knot. “Yes,” you repeated like a mantra. It only spurred him on, his hips halting against yours, favoring to slowly bully his knot into your pretty cunt. “Simon,” you moaned.

You came with a scream, your body shaking against the bed as his knot pushed into place at just the right moment for every ounce of his cum to be locked into you. He pressed you into the mattress, his face burying in your neck as he came with a gritted groan, his own shoulders twitching from pleasure.

The room was nearly quiet, except for the thrumming of both your heartbeats. Neither of you could move even if you wanted to, too blissed out for your own good.

“Comfortable?” he checked, having to dig deep to get his vocal cords to work. You nodded softly, wrapping an arm around his neck to keep him as close as possible.

“Yes, alpha,” you sighed, completely and utterly content.

He waited till you were asleep to let a tear fall from his eye.

After years he finally had something he had always denied himself.

A pack.

You were grumpy when you woke up. Your body still exhausted from all the strenuous activity it had been put through.

Your alphas didn't seem to mind at all. Their fingers and lips trying to gently smooth the frown off your pretty face. You felt a bit better after eating, yet you could hardly hold the spoon. Kyle was happy to feed you, wanting to return the favor after you had so dutifully taken care of him.

You took another bath and were ushered into a clean bed with clean sheets. You should be happy. Yet there was one thing weighing on your mind.

One half of your neck felt empty.

“Bloody do it,” Simon huffed, his alpha on edge from your attitude.

“Please,” you added, through wet lashes. Your hands reach forward tangling themselves in the soft fabric of his shirt. Your lips ghosted over his pulse. Right there. Right, in plain sight, but could still easily be covered by facial hair or a scarf if needed.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he lulled, tilting his head back to allow you the room you needed. You didn’t need to be told twice, your fangs already throbbing at the sight. They sunk in with ease, a confirmation it was the perfect spot. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, his hand gripping onto Simon’s arm to steady himself. His jaw fell open, spots appearing in his vision as a wave of peace flooded over him. It was an addictive high. One that he knew he’d be chasing through you till the bitter end. You released him, your tongue soothing over the area just like Simon had taught you.

“Think you broke him, love,” Simon chuckled, watching as John’s eyes grew hazy from the euphoric high. A shiver ran up his spine as those same eyes zeroed in on your neck. Simon rested a hand against your cheek, tilting your head back to give John the perfect view. “Relax, pup,” Simon smiled down at you softly, making your eyes well up. His thumb ran under your eye, trying to ignore his own pounding heart as he felt your heartbeat quicken. You could feel John’s teeth hit your neck, not giving you a moment of relief as they sunk into your tender flesh.

You felt a moment of bliss before passing out.

It wasn't completely uncalled for, you had been through a lot not only this week but today.

The pleased smile across your face gives them no room for worry.

As silence settled over the three of you, one known fact cut the silence in the air.

A new phase of your lives was underway.

Hi friends! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! This will be the last chapter of SECTION 1 of As Needed. Section 2 will begin in THREE DAYS! Lots of love!

[stargrillzz]

𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘬 summary: two different worlds, two different people, two different desires...or maybe not so much. note: i love the cliche kook x pogue!reader my favorite definitely, xoxo.

The sun was going down, the day was ending, this was probably your favorite time of the day.

The daily routine during this summer.

First JJ and you would drop John B off at the Cameron mansion because he had to work, then you and JJ would go surfing, he would drop you off at your job, a music store, and after a while he would pick you up there and then pick up John B. Some days Ki was added, who lately was working with his father all day, and Pope, it goes without saying that he was only studying to enter the university.

"Wait, I have to finish packing up a couple of things and then we can go" says John B giving the van door a light knock, starting to walk away.

The blonde replied "...take your time, anyway this dumbass needs me to keep teaching her how to surf" he brings his face closer to yours in a mocking way.

"Shut up, you're just jealous because I surf better than you" he looks at you mockingly "I only fell once, only once" you pushed him more. He took you by the knees carrying you on his shoulder, you took advantage of that opportunity to start hitting his butt "put me down stupid blonde" you laughed "baby, if you keep touching my ass I don’t know what could happen".

It was a joke.

You knew it.

He knew it.

You were the perfect pair of siblings, you couldn't live without each other, but you didn't feel anything beyond platonic... I mean, yeah, you fucked a few times... several times, but you both knew it was just for fun.

There was only one person who couldn't stand what you two had, someone who knows they shouldn't feel that way but can't help it.

You and JJ can feel how big footsteps sounded more and more towards you, your first guess was that it was John B, but the footsteps resounded quite decisively on the floor, not at all like your friend's common calm step.

"Rafe" sighed when you saw him, somewhat scared, you knew well that the cute blond and the big dickhead didn't get along very well and that most of their encounters ended with you acting as JJ's personal nurse.

Because pogues always first, always.

"Look man, we don't want any trouble, we just came to pick up..."

"Sarah is calling for you, she's in the living room" Rafe cuts your friend off and just keeps his jaw clenched, staring at you.

You knew damn well that Sarah was not at home, you assumed that he wanted to tell you something that from the look on his face it would not be good.

You nodded your head, then turned your head to JJ "could you wait for me a few minutes?" you asked him.

You weren't in the mood to take any shit that Rafe tells ya, not with everything you've been feeling lately.

"There's no need for him to wait for you…" Cameron said.

You simply kept your gaze on the beach-boy, ignoring the rich-boy "please?"

"Always" he said simply looking at you.

Rafe followed your steps with determination, even more annoyed by the fact that the blond was still waiting for you outside.

"Something happened?" you asked once inside the house.

"I don't know, you tell me, do you have a boyfriend now?" he smiles sarcastically. "what the fuck are you talking about?" you frowned.

The tension was clear, you realized that he was upset, but you did not know why.

"The pogue garbage that is waiting for you outside...that's what the fuck I'm talking about" he answers even angrier.

You raised your eyebrows, clearly offended. "That's not what I meant," he corrected himself instantly.

"I don’t even know why am I surprised" you laughed sarcastically "not you, ‘m not talking about you" he says quickly.

"I hate to break it to you but let me remember you that I am also a pogue garbage, which reminds me...we should stop...what we do, whatever we have, it ends now" breaks your heart, but you knew it was the wisest decision for your well-being.

His heart broke too, but he wasn't the type to give up so quickly, definitely not. He always gets what he wants.

And he wants you.

"No" he said firmly.

You were trying to hold back a couple of tears, you didn't want him to see you cry, not him.

"What are you gonna do now? pay me to sleep with you, sorry Rafe I'm not a whore you can sleep with whenever you want and then kick out" you said quickly and in a strong voice "and then leave me or avoid me like some kind of bitch that's crazy over you."

"It's not like that..." he sighs "what the fuck are you talking about, it's not like that" he starts to get closer to you but you just move away.

"This doesn't make sense, we're not going to get anywhere Rafe, it's pointless" you raised your shoulders.

"We should just talk more calmly, okay? I want to do things right," Rafe said desperately, moving his hands like he always did when he was uneasy. "There is nothing you can do, for God's sake I don't even know what I was thinking from the beginning" you brought your hands to your face "this is wrong, very wrong, you are bad, a bad person" at this point you were already crying , inevitably Rafe felt like the worst piece of trash "you always look for conflict with my friends, you're into super shady, weird shit" you breathed a little "just... every angle of you is bad." There were a few seconds of silence, he didn't know what to say, you were right in everything you had said, what could he argue? "I know…and I'm very sorry, but I don't know what to do to make you forgive me, to be with me." "Just…don’t make this harder” you sighed and just like that, you left.

------

But again…it’s Rafe fucking Cameron, he gets what he wants.

And Oh Lord, he was gonna get you back.

[athenasdaydreams]

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: Remus loves christmas for many reasons, but his favourite reason might be you.

chapter warnings: mention of food, other than that not any to my knowledge!!

A/N: merry christmas!! i guess i have to listen to the people of tumblr and write another one... yay

At the young age of 6 years old, Remus John Lupin knew one thing; he loved Christmas. While every day was a constant reminder of his... condition, Christmas was his chance to be normal. His mother would bake sugar cookies and brownies with him, while his father would use magic to string old christmas lights across their small house. His favourite part, however, was not the gifts, or the decorations. It was chocolate. Remus loved chocolate in any form it came in, and in winter, there was no shortage of it. Hot chocolate, peppermint bark, festive chocolate frogs his father would buy for him, Remus adored christmas for this reason.

When Remus went to Hogwarts, his love for christmas only increased. Surrounded by friends who entertained him with games of wizard's chess and card games, he had more to look forward to when the first snowfall of the year happened. Remus loved the way you loved christmas as well. Your sweet disposition only shone brighter during the holiday season. Whether you helped a first year put his ornament higher on the gryffindor common room's christmas tree, or shared your homemade treats with kids whose parents were far to busy to make any, you were just the most perfect person on earth, like an angel that descended from heaven.

On his fourth Christmas holiday spent at Hogwarts, Remus couldn’t help but watch you from the corner of the common room, pretending to be engrossed in the book resting on his lap. You were laughing as you helped a third-year untangle a string of enchanted fairy lights that kept trying to loop themselves into knots. The sound of your laugh—light and genuine—made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

“Oi, Moony!” Sirius’s voice jolted him out of his reverie. “Are you going to make that move, or are you just planning to stare at her until next Christmas?” Sirius smirked, leaning back in his chair, a knowing look plastered on his face.

James snickered beside him, flicking a wizard’s chess piece that had been knocked over in the chaos of their ongoing game. “Don’t be too hard on him, Padfoot. Christmas is the time for love and all that nonsense, isn’t it?”

Remus flushed, ducking his head to hide the redness creeping up his cheeks. “I wasn’t staring,” he muttered, though the heat in his face betrayed him.

“Oh, sure,” Peter chimed in, grinning as he picked up one of the chocolate frogs from a plate nearby. “Because it’s totally normal to sit with a chessboard in front of you for twenty minutes without moving a single piece.”

Before Remus could come up with a defense, you approached the group, holding a tray of what looked like freshly baked gingerbread cookies. “Anyone want some? I tried a new recipe, and I think they turned out pretty well,” you said, smiling as you offered the plate.

Remus’s heart skipped a beat as you leaned closer to him, holding out the tray. “Here, Remus. I know you like chocolate, so I added a little drizzle on these ones.”

He stared at the cookies for a moment, then at you, his brain struggling to form coherent words. “Thank you,” he managed, his voice quieter than he intended. He took one, the warmth of your smile making his insides feel like melted chocolate.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. “Smooth, Moony. Really smooth.”

You laughed softly at their antics, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, enjoy, everyone. Let me know what you think.” And with that, you turned to help another group of students decorating by the fireplace.

Remus watched you walk away, the cookie forgotten in his hand. James leaned over and whispered, “Mate, you’re going to have to say something eventually. Preferably before we graduate.”

But Remus didn’t need their teasing to know what was on his mind. You had a way of making every part of Christmas brighter, and he couldn’t help but think that you were the best gift he’d ever have the privilege of knowing.

By the next Christmas, the common room was alive with festive cheer once more, and this time, you and Remus sat together by the fire like old friends—though to Remus, you were so much more than that.

It had been a year since that quiet, awkward conversation, and in that time, you and Remus had grown closer in a way that felt effortless. He no longer hesitated to sit beside you in the common room or join you for study sessions in the library. You’d developed a quiet, easy camaraderie that made him feel like he belonged in a way he hadn’t since arriving at Hogwarts.

This Christmas, though, felt different.

“Are you winning, Moony?” you teased, leaning over to glance at his game of wizard’s chess with Sirius.

“Not even close,” he admitted with a wry smile. His knight was just smashed to bits by Sirius’s queen, and his remaining pieces seemed to be shaking with dread.

“Poor knight,” you said with mock sympathy. “He never stood a chance.”

Sirius grinned. “I’m ruthless. Everyone knows that.”

Remus rolled his eyes but chuckled, turning to you. “I think my pieces have officially given up. Care to save me by distracting Sirius?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh no, I’m terrible at chess. But I can offer you some chocolate for moral support.”

Reaching into the small tin you’d brought with you, you held out a neatly wrapped piece. Remus accepted it with a quiet “thanks,” and as he unwrapped it, he couldn’t help but marvel at how thoughtful you always were.

“Do you ever stop being nice?” he asked softly, almost to himself.

You tilted your head, smiling. “Why would I stop? It’s Christmas.”

“Still,” he muttered, looking down at the chocolate in his hand. “You make everything... better. Not just Christmas. Just—everything.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you reached for a piece of chocolate yourself to hide your flustered smile. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

The word friends made his heart ache in the best and worst way. He wanted to be more than that, but the thought of ruining what you already had was enough to keep him silent.

“You’ve been so good to me this year, Remus,” you said after a moment, surprising him. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His head snapped up, his eyes wide. “Me? You’re the one who’s—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

You leaned closer, curiosity sparkling in your eyes. “No, go on. What were you going to say?”

He hesitated, then sighed, giving you a small smile. “You’re the one who’s made this year so great. I mean, you’re... you’re incredible, really. You make everyone feel special. It’s hard not to feel lucky just being around you.”

Your heart fluttered, and you looked down at your lap, feeling suddenly shy. “Well, if I make everyone feel special, it’s only because I learned from you.”

Remus blinked, caught completely off guard. “From me?”

You nodded, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. “Of course. You’re one of the kindest people I know, Remus. And you always know how to make people feel cared for, even when you don’t realize it.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The room seemed to grow quieter, the glow of the fire casting a soft light over your faces.

“Thank you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Merry Christmas, Remus,” you said, your smile brighter than any decoration in the room.

“Merry Christmas,” he replied, his heart so full it felt like it might burst.

He still didn’t know if he’d ever work up the courage to tell you how he really felt, but for now, being your friend—your favourite friend, he hoped—was more than enough.

[brotherwtf]

Can we get more clegan bikeriders or bucky × benny???

there's so much bikeriders content honestly!! we are eating good anyway go read @johnslittlespoon tough and sweet and @hogans-heroes bike riders x mota crossover because they're both big brained and their fics are perfect

adding my little ideas with an au where Gale is in a biker gang who frequents this one diner John works at, a "family friendly" place with red and white stripes, the type of place you wouldn't expect someone like Gale to frequent except he has a silly little school girl crush on one of the waiters

and of course heads are going to turn when a man who's Harley is rumbling loudly outside walks in with his leathers on and a deep scowl on his face, and yet all he does is move right to the bar and park right there, waiting to get John's attention so he can quietly order a coke

of course John being the guy™ he is always tries to make Gales coke a float, asks if he wants to add a little sweetness to it with a wiggle of his eyebrows because he LOVES to see this tough looking biker blush a little bit when he intentionally brushes their fingers together

John loves it because Gale tries to act all tough, he rides in a gang after all, but he doesn't smoke, doesn't drink, and he's downright smitten with John and John knows it, he just wants to play cat and mouse a little bit because he loves seeing Gale all smitten

and of course John would follow Gale outside to his bike and ask for a ride, come on, Buck, just one ride, please? and Gale can't even imagine denying him so he allows John to sit on the back of his bike and when John orders him to pull over he does, at which point John makes a big show of grabbing the front of Gales jacket and kissing the hell out of him, good shit good shit

need me some tough looking Gale that's just absolutely in love with the big fool John

[insidekatmind]

THE TENSION- JONATHAN DEVISS

The tension was palpable on the set of Outer Banks.The soft lights of the evening scene where Pope and Cheryl had to confess their feelings added an almost tangible intimacy. You and Jonathan were on the couch in the living room of John B’s house, surrounded by the crew, with the director giving the last directions. The script called for a passionate kiss between the two characters, but there was an unspoken word between you and Jonathan that made everything more complicated.

You sat on him as the scene predicted. The tension in your body was evident, and Jonathan felt it. With your heart beating fast, you tried to focus only on the jokes.

"Cheryl," he began, with the trembling and emotional voice that Pope would have, "I can’t pretend anymore. Every time I see you, everything else disappears."

You were playing your part, trying to keep it professional: "Pope, we can’t. You and I... we’re too different. But... damn, I can’t stop thinking about you."

The director shouted: "Perfect! Now kiss!"

Jonathan approached slowly, his intense gaze met yours. The moment seemed suspended in time. When his lips touched yours, the chemistry exploded. It was a recited kiss, but it felt all too real. You felt Jonathan’s hands, which were initially laid carefully on your hips, slowly descend towards your butt. It was a subtle gesture, imperceptible to anyone not in your position, but you felt it clearly.

Jonathan’s eyes were still closed when he drew you closer, increasing the intimacy of the moment. It wasn’t in the script, and your heart sped up. You tried to keep calm, even though his warm breath against your neck made you lose the thread.

"Cut!" said the director, satisfied. "Excellent chemistry, you two. Perfect. Let’s take five minutes and then we’ll resume!"

As the troupe dispersed, you were still above him, his breath still irregular. You looked into his eyes, looking for an explanation, but Jonathan seemed almost pleased, his smile was a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction.

"Jonathan," you whisper, trying not to attract attention, "what are you doing?"

He raised an eyebrow, keeping the tone light but with a hint of seriousness: "I was... getting into the part. You know, Pope is in love with Cheryl. We have to make it real, right?"

His hand was still on your side, and he made no attempt to push it away. "Jonathan, are you sure that was just acting?"

He approached slightly, his face a few inches from yours. "And you, y/n, are you sure it was just acting?"

His intense gaze made you shiver. The moment was far too intimate, but before I could answer, someone from the crew came over, breaking the tension.

"Jonathan, you need makeup. five minutes and we’re back on set!"

You quickly came down from her womb, your face on fire. He stood up, arranging his clothes distractedly, but not before giving you one last provocative look. " We’ll talk about it later," she whispered, enough to make you blush even more.

The scene was over, but you and Jonathan seemed to be just getting started.

[the-rodent-gentleman]

With another tale to spin.

So many days spent working on this...and it was worth it.

A lineup of the main cast for a Talespin reboot set in the 1990s. I had to do quite a bit of research into the fashion trends of that decade to ensure everyone fit in. To be frank, I'm impressed with how easily (almost) all of them take to the aesthetic.

As for how this sort of reboot would work as a show, I have a few loose concepts I might consider posting in the near future, both for reimaginings of classic episodes as well as crossover events, considering I envision this taking place a few decades before the events of the 2017 Ducktales reboot.

Here's some information on what they'd be like along with my thought processes on the character designs from left to right:

Baloo von Bruinwald - Papa Bear here wasn't particularly hard to pin down. I just had to jazz up his wardrobe a bit with a jacket and glasses, really. If I could pick VAs in real life, I'd go with James Monroe Iglehart because not only does he have that deep bouncy voice that invokes the perfect blend of devil-may-care and warmheartedness (Lance Strongbow from Tangled: The Series) but the man can also sing (Asmodeus from Helluva Boss), something we should have gotten more from Baloo in the original Talespin. Besides, it'd be interesting and fun to explore a Baloo with black coding on top of the German ancestry the original Talespin gave him as well as his original Indian heritage from the Jungle Book.

Rebecca Cunningham - Now Becky here definitely got the biggest makeover in terms of redesign. As much as I don't mind her original look, it really needed her personality and VA's performance to do all the heavy-lifting and felt like a product of the time. That's why I decided to depict her and Molly as Plains Cree (hence the added ponytail), not merely for the sake of diversity but to help introduce conflicts that feel genuine and less forced with a nonwhite-coded character. As for voices, Deedee Magno-Hall would work well as her time as Pearl on Steven Universe shows she can do motherly figures but also depict that neuroticism that's key to Rebecca's character flaws.

Bagheera - Yes, that's right. Baloo's original spouse is here like he deserves! Like any rebooter worth their salt, I had to figure out how he'd fit into the universe, especially since I want to incorporate his friendship with Baloo and the other Jungle Book characters - so I decided to make him a former S.H.U.S.H. agent who now works as Higher for Hire's second pilot. There'd be a whole arc centered around him having to confront his past because of F.O.W.L. causing trouble and everything. Now for his design, I decided to go for simple by giving him a very "dorky dad" look as way of making him seem unassuming. Personally, I'd pick Riz Ahmed (Ballister Boldheart from Nimona) as the VA as I headcanon Talespin Bagheera to be Indian-Pakistani. Plus, Ahmed is a dedicated rapper and the idea of Bagheera dropping a diss-track is just too good an idea to pass up.

Shere Khan - Nothing changed. Aside from the flower and cane, nothing about this man changed at all. Really, it's stupefying how little formal business attire has changed between the 30s and 90s. So, I added in an orange gerbera (a symbol of strength and resilience) and a badass cane for extra flavor. I also headcanon him as Chinese-Indian by the way, so make of that what you will. Now while I know none can truly replace Tony Jay, I believe Christopher Judge (Kratos from God of War 2018 and Ragnarok) would come pretty dang close on account of his intimidatingly booming voice and the way he delivers dry wit.

Don Karnage - As time consuming as he was (the teeth especially), I think Karnage's redesign is by far my favorite. Something about him in that flowing coat with the open chest fur just works. In terms of lore, Don Karnage would stay more or less the same, albeit he'd be like that old man struggling with all the doohickeys cropping up. He'd be voiced by John Leguizamo (Sid from Ice Age and Bruno from Encanto) who can do surprisingly good villains, like in Violent Night, yet can still come off as hilarious.

Wildcat - To be honest, I'm not entirely sure if I'm OK with the look I gave him, but I do like the idea of Wildcat rocking a beanie, so I'll keep him this way for now. Other than that, I'd prefer to keep Wildcat as much of an enigma in terms of backstory as the show did, just to preserve that sense of amiable chaos he's so good at bringing. By the way, I'd let his original VA Pat Fraley keep voicing him cuz if it ain't broke don't fix it.

Molly Cunningham - Other than giving her pants longer legs and getting rid of the bow, Molly's not too different. The most noteworthy detail I added would be the cuff bracelet on her wrist. I based it off of this trinket posted on Facebook a while back based on traditional Plains Cree beadwork since I figured that'd be easier for me to draw. For a VA, I'd give her Dani Chambers (Molly from Epithet Erased and Becky Blackbell from Spy x Family) since she's pretty good with voicing cute yet sassy young girls. Kit Cloudkicker - Ah Kit, the one the Ducktales reboot did so unnecessarily dirty. Not to worry, he's still as much of an aviation prodigy here as ever. Besides, it'd be far more interesting to explore a Kit who tries too hard to instead emulate Rebecca, even if unintentionally, to the point of burnout. As for his fit here, I simply switched out his beloved sweater for a nice two-toned jacket. For voices, I'd go with Justine Lee (Ken Amada from Persona 3: Reload) who can pull off sounding like a young spirited boy quite well. Simon Zhong - The only original character in this lineup. Ya'll who follow me might recognize him from all my Kit x Simon art. He's mainly here to serve as a nice chaotic counter to Bagheera (the two of them will parallel Baloo and Kit naturally) as well as a living bridge to potential conflicts with F.O.W.L. I decided to give him a grunge look since black is so prominent in his design, not to mention a Pac Man ghost shirt to hint at his fixation on video games. If he were to be a character in a real-life reboot, despite being pretty laconic, I'd go with Charlene Yi (Ruby from Steven Universe and Chloe from We Bare Bears) since she's got that crackling voice that has its own unique charm.

Louie - Yeah, I gave the main man the Florida treatment. Honestly, I think he looks even better this way. Aside from deeper lore on his history with Baloo and the other Jungle book characters, I wouldn't change much else about him. On that note, like with Wildcat, I'd stick with his original voice actor, Jim Cummings in this case.

Marcos - And now for the guest of honor. Say hello to Don Karnage's singing, prancy, and oh so theatrical nephew (who may or may not take over as captain one day). Because yes, yes this kid will in fact grow up to become the Don Karnage we see in the Ducktales reboot! Between an uncle who keeps berating him for "not acting like a real pirate" and a one-sided rivalry with his uncle's former protege, Kit, poor Marcos has quite the chip off his shoulder. In light of that, Alanna Ubach (Manny Rivera from El Tigre and Mamá Imelda from Coco - God, that woman has range) would be his VA as she can pull off voicing a bratty and overconfident Latino kid pretty well.

Overall, this would be a pretty stacked cast.

As for the background, I'd rather hold back on explaining that until I start posting some more of my concept art. But I'll give you a hint: Memphis style. And that's all ya'll are getting from me (for now).

Talespin, the Jungle Book movie, and all relevant characters belong to Disney. I only own Simon and the idea of this reboot.

Don't forget to hit me up on Ko-Fi for commissions!  

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For better quality views: DeviantArt | FurAffinity | Weasyl

[imaginedreamwrite]

I am so excited for the new poly 141 series! Can we pleeeeeeeeeease get a sneak peek?

Sneak peek of Pretty Little Things:

He felt like a scent hound, following the tendrils of some enticing scent that called to him from down the hall. The sound of his feet echoing on the floor was muffled to his ears, every function in his body focusing on his sense of smell. Even before he opened the door his mouth was watering and he had nearly broken the door off its hinges to get into the room.

“Soap what the fuck?” Ghost grit his teeth as he questioned the sergeants motives behind nearly breaking the door in two, his brown eyes narrowing in Johnny’s direction.

“That smell…” Johnny groaned and stepped further into the room, feeling tightness in more than part of his body. “Fuck-“

“It’s an omega from the match making service across the pond,” Captain Price had finally given Johnny the answer he so deeply desired, and tossed a couple of pictures on the desk.

Johnny swiped them from the Captain’s desk and lifted them to his nose, the scent of an omega clinging to the surface. As he inhaled the delicious and mouthwatering concoction, he felt that familiar stab of want and desire.

“She’s pregnant,” Gaz had stated from a couch set near the wall, looking over a series of forms in his hands—information about the omega they were potentially going to choose, “only 3 months-“

“Fuck,” Johnny drew the pictures from his nose, going through the four in his hands, “that scent-”

“It’s hella addictive.” Gaz complimented Soap’s comment with his own, agreeing wholeheartedly with him.

Johnny drew his attention back to the pictures in his hands, thumbing through them. The first being a sonogram, the indication was clear that this omega would come with a future baby. The second and third photographs were of the omega herself, one of which was taken in the style of some high school or college pictures for the purpose of identification. But the fourth picture was less professional—it was personal and something along the lines of a selfie taken in one of the rooms in the omega matchmaking agency’s housing facility.

“This is the top choice?” Johnny asked Price, more begging than not, and had nearly bitten Ghost’s hand off when he tried to take the pictures from them. “Tell me this is the top choice-“

“We’re sending her gifts, Soap.” Price had shot Johnny a warning look, a subtle sign to knock off the attitude, especially with one of their mates.

They were, as a whole, mated with a strong and unwavering pack mentality. But they needed an omega, they craved and desired one that would fit well into their pack which had led them to the agency. And the matchmaking process had gone beyond the borders of the UK, extending internationally. They would need to make the decision as a whole, as a pack with one mind directed toward the perfect omega for them.

Soon enough they had landed on you.

“Gifts?” Johnny glanced at Simon, eyeing him with annoyance for stealing the pictures he wasn’t done with, and then he eyed Gaz. The youngest sergeant was reading up on all the information they had on you, everything you had willingly given along with the information the agency sent.

“Gifts to start the courting process, standard and highly recommended.” John had leaned toward on the desk, elbows resting upon the top as he looked over his men. “Something containing your scent, and a courting gift from each of you. We’re sending it out at the end of the week.”

“And in exchange the omega sends us something of hers.” Simon added to Price’s statement, finally allowing Johnny to take the pictures again. He was all too happy to steal them back before he sidled up to Gaz, sitting next to him in a comfortable yet intimate position.

“You have until the end of the week and if you’re late, too bad.”

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt. 12

A/N: Apologies for the radio silence for so long but it's been hectic getting my dissertation finished! I only have a few more weeks of assignments left and then uni is done which is very scary. For now enjoy this part! As always let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or send any requests you have for this pairing!

I make no claim that my ranching knowledge is accurate, it's all made up.

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!reader

Previous part - Next part

---

The first colours of the day are starting to paint the sky when y/n stepped out of the house, hat securely on her head and cooler full of food for Gator who was waiting for her.  She dropped it next to the stone grill in exchange for two steaming mugs of coffee that she took to the barn where Jimmy was opening up.

When he got to the open door she handed him one of the mugs, “learning to do this shit one-handed is vital to starting the day properly caffeinated.”

The pair worked through tacking up the horses for the day in a comfortable routine that they had perfected over the last few weeks working together.  Despite repeated reminders that it was low man’s job to tack up in the morning, y/n just glared at whoever directed the reminder at her and insisted that it was a ritual she enjoyed.  Besides, anything she could do to help Jimmy pick up ranch skills quicker and avoid ridicule from the hands.

Comanche was the last horse y/n tacked up, always choosing to leave her own horse until the end when she could give him a little bit of extra attention (and her apple core, an important part of his day).  She led him outside of the barn in time to hear Rip calling out the start of the day.  Mourning the fact that she hadn’t had time for a morning cigarette, y/n mounted up to follow the hands out of the gate towards the herd.

-/-/-

A few hours later, the hands were moving all the cattle from their grazing with the help of the helicopter.  Y/n had Comanche positioned at the back of the group with Ryan and Colby to the left of her to keep the herd moving forward.

“I thought you’d be better to deal with once we finally got over 10 years of pining but no turns out you’re just more of a soft fucker,” Colby complained to Ryan.

She laughed at her friend, “not all cowboys are emotionally stunted like you Colby, no need to be jealous I’m sure you’ll find a real girl to love you one day.”

“A real girl?  As opposed to a what girl?”

“A blow up one,” Ryan sighed, “she’s saying you have a sex doll.”

He didn’t get a chance to insult her back as she opted to leave the boys at the back to check in at the front.  She eased to a walk next to Lloyd when Rip rode up to them.

“Y/n you’re in charge of keeping everyone on track,” he directed, “I gotta deal with stragglers.”

She saluted him and shouted after him, “take Jimmy with you!”

“You’ll take all our jobs when we retire, kid,” Lloyd commented.

Y/n laughed, “old man you ain’t ever gonna retire.  I know you’re gonna die on that horse herding cattle.”

She peeled away and returned to the back next to Ryan who smiled softly at her.  Colby gagged at his friends which earned a middle finger from both of them.  Everyone’s eyes snapped to the trees when there was a shout followed by hooves at speed.

“Ryan, Colby go get those cattle back here!” Y/n shouted, “Lloyd help Jimmy with the horse!”

Repositioning her hat to keep the sun out of her eyes, y/n groaned internally as she scanned over the remaining hands to ensure no more cattle would slip through the cracks.  John had spent her whole life preparing Lee to take over the ranch but now that he was gone, it seemed that her father was desperately scrambling.  In her opinion it seemed far too convenient that John had decided to reconcile with Kayce when the ranch needed an heir, overlooking the fact that she’d been part of the operation for 8 years.  She was pretty sure that she could handle the (legitimate) side of the ranch with her eyes closed.

“You looking deep in thought there sweetheart,” Ryan cut through the anger simmering under the surface.

She smiled at him, “just wishing that dad would see I could handle the ranch.  Jimmy alright?”

“Anyone would think that you feel sorry for him,” he joked half-heartedly.

Lucy shrugged, “I do Ry.  I was born doing this and y’all chose it but he didn’t.  Least I can do is hope he adapts quick.”

She watched as the cattle slipped into the rest of the herd, keeping an eye out for any of them that might have sustained an injury going through the woods.  They were followed by Lloyd who she gestured over to the back before he could get to Rip.

“He’s finding his hat before he comes back,” He answered her question before she got it out.

Y/n huffed out a breath, “fuck knows losing that would not go over well.”

With a nod to her, he turned his horse around and cantered back to head up the herd.  Lucy patted Comanche’s neck and turned her eyes back to the cattle in front of her.

-/-/-

With all the cattle down by the barn, y/n settled into the familiar movements of separating the herd.  Even when she wasn’t old enough to be in the pen, she could remember sitting on the fence helping  John organise the hands.  When she was 10, she’d been allowed to take part on her horse and Lloyd had spent many a evening helping so that y/n would be able to keep up with her brothers.  At this point in her life, there was a chance she could do this job with one arm tied behind her back.

In the other pen, y/n watched as Kayce’s stallion continued to give John a hard time.  She rolled her eyes and leant over to speak to Lloyd, “I question my brother’s motives for giving dad that horse unless he’s tryna get his inheritance early.”

“I think it’s gonna take a bit more than a horse with a vendetta to kill your father,” he remarked.  

Y/n laughed, “here’s hoping a concussion might knock some sense into him.  That or finally kill the rest of his brain cells and I can take over the whole thing.”

She turned her attention back to the cattle encouraging Comanche forward to cut off one of the heifers that had made a break for it.  With her thoughts back on the job and not her father, y/n quickly fell back into the rhythm of working the cattle.

-/-/-

A little while later, y/n’s attention was pulled away from the cattle to Kayce’s truck pulling up outside the barn.  She watched her brother get out before helping Tate out of the other side.  Her nephew made a beeline to the corral to climb the fence, fascinated with what the hands were doing.  Y/n sought out Rip’s gaze from the opposite side who waved her towards the fence where Tate was watching from.  With a smile of thanks to the foreman, she brought Comanche parallel to the boy.

“What are you doing?” Tate asked in greeting, reaching out to stroke the horse’s spotted neck.

His aunt glanced back at the herd, “well we’ve got to split up the herd before we can send them off to make sure they all go to the right place.  Different colours mean different things.  It’s up to us to know which colour is meant to go to who.”

“Mind if I steal your nephew from you?” John leant up against the fence next to him.

She leant down from Comanche to receive a high-five from her nephew, “he’s all your dad.  Misbehave for me Tate.”

Ignoring her dad’s groan and her suggestion, she directed the gelding around the remaining herd to where Ryan had been watching the conversation with hearts in his eyes.

“Why you looking at me like that?  Someone will see you,” Y/n teased.

He rolled his eyes at her, “you’re good with him.  That’s all.”

“For all my brother’s faults he and Mon made a damn good kid,” Y/n admitted, “I just hope dad doesn’t mess it up with how he’s gettin’ his claws in of late.  Tate practically worships him.”

“He adores you too y’know,” Ryan pointed out to her.

Y/n shrugged him off, “that’s just because I’m the only part of this side of the family that’s been around since he was born.  Dad has a lot more interest to a young boy than boring aunt y/n.”

“You ain’t boring to me sweetheart.”

---

@child-of-of-the-sunshine @kendallroydefender @qardasngan @thecobraghost @little-diable

[jj-maybanks-daughter]

shark

john bs little sister, y/n routledge got attacked by a shark while surfing with the pogues

warnings- blood, sharks, drowning 

a/n- please don’t read if your afraid of sharks. however, what you read  is not my responsibility  

y/n walked from her room to the living room where all the pogues are. “can someone go out to surf with me? i don’t like being alone and i really want to go out”

“sure.” john b said 

���i’ll go!” pope added, smiling

“im in” jj yelled 

kiara and sarah looked at eachother and shrugged.

they all got ready to surf. y/n had a pink bikini on and brought her white board

“ew look at the water it’s all grey” sarah said disgusted pointing to the water. 

“your fineeee” john b joked. “let’s go”

they swam out into the water. the waves were pretty calm. y/n had drifted off while she was laying on her board.

they layed there for a while, hopeful some nice waves will come in.

the salt air had y/ns y/h/c hair all wavy and perfect. everything was perfect. until something was under y/n. she didn’t notice, she was falling asleep laying on her stomach. both feet and right hand in the water.

out of nowhere, there was a splash. the shark had gotten y/ns left leg, tearing it to shreds as it had held her underwater. blood curdling screams were coming from her mouth underwater, begging that someone would hear her. 

“y/n?” sarah asked, noticing there was a splash and she wasn’t on her board.

the shark brought her above water and she screamed. he leg was being ripped off by a thousand stake knife’s, and she couldn’t get away. i was like she was in a car wash, but instead of soapy clean sponges, it was razor sharp knife’s. 

“oh shit” john b paddled over to her fast and got her in his arms. the water was red and thick. the pogues watched with shock in their eyes. “call 911!” john b screamed as he sucker punched the shark. it finally swam away, not after taking another bite.

kie and sarah rode a wave in to shore in a panic and grabbed their phones. 

“911, what’s your emergency” the operator  spoke through the phone

“hi um we have a 15 year old female that just got t attacked by a shark” sarah cried with a shaky voice into the phone

“is she conscious and where was the bite”

“i don’t know, she’s still out in the water but the shark is gone now. uh- i think it’s her leg”

“ok. i’m just going to send a medivac to your location. stay on the line.”

“ok” sarah was crying.

“y/n, talk to me, your ok” john b said as she layed on the board slipping in and out of consciousness. “come on, kid give me something here” he slapped her face gently a few times to keep her awake

jj and pope had rushed over to help, but there was nothing they could really do. once they had gotten to where they could stand jj tied the leash of his surfboard around her leg as tight as he could to stop the bleeding. it was gruesome and horrific but they were gonna do what they had to to save y/n

“jj?” she asked in a hushed, raspy voice as they swam her back to shore.

“i’m here, i’m here” jj said brushing her wet hair out of her face, trying to put on a brave face for her

“i can’t feel anything” she said closing her eyes slowly. he watched her eyelashes flutter in pain, shock and fear coating her glassy eye.

“i know, i know, keep your eyes open, your gonna be alright” 

the boys and y/n got to shore after fighting with the fast crashing waves and rip current 

“y/n, they have a medivac coming for you ok?” john b said as he tightened the makeshift tourniquet to where if it was her neck, she wouldn’t be able to breath

“that hurts, john b, stop your hurting me” she was crying and trying to catch her breath

“i know, i know, im sorry. we need to stop the bleeding and this is the only way i can do it. if i didn’t have to i wouldn’t”

her eyes were heavy and she was pale pink. her lips were chapped and had blood all over her. her pink bathing suit and white board were stained with a dark red

“jj?” she pleaded as she opened her eyes in pain

“yes?” he asked.

“i’m scared” 

“me too, we all are. your…” he paused, not knowing if the next statement was true “your gonna be ok” it was convincing him and the pogues as much as it was her.

“i’m cold” she said, lifting her head to see what john b was doing. she also was looking for a towel or be wrapped around in.

john b nudged her back down to the towel her head was resting on “don’t look, it’s ok” he didn’t want her to see her own leg that was bleeding profusely and had muscle and bone popping out at every spot.

“i’m cold…” she drifted off. she was trying to stay awake, but she was just too tired. 

“oh shit” pope tried to wake her up by squeezing her face, but it was no use. he checked to see if she was breathing. she wasn’t conscious a few times, but not like this. she was still. her eyes were shut. not shut in a fluttering way, but a frozen way. her flushed chapped lips parted and still. she didn’t flinch at any contact. she was out.

pope tapped her face a few times, looking for signs that she was just sleeping. she was frozen. she was still bleeding, which in this case, was a good sign. he put his ear to her chest to listen. she was breathing.

john b walked away, crying “come on y/n/n, your ok, they’re almost here” he said as he paced back and forth while pope was examining her conditions.

“she’s still breathing, just make sure it stays that way” pope directed jj to put his finger under her nose to monitor her breathing. he put his bloodied finger under her nose. and his ear on her chest.

sarah walked away to john b, holding him in a bear hug as they both cry, looking towards an almost lifeless y/n. their usual bubbly, energetic, and crazy y/n was just attacked by a shark which left her bleeding with a leg bearly on the bone.  they could everything that made up the leg. there was no way they could keep reattach it, even though the hoped.

“damn it! we should’ve just stayed at home” jj screamed, pulling at the roots of his hair. he walked away to wash his bestfriends sisters blood from his calloused hands 

kiara sat there in shock. mouth wide open, eyes in a bliss. she was somewhere else. trapped in the memory of what just happened to her friend. they knew they couldn’t do anything about it. they had give. every effort to stop the bleeding, that being all they could really do.

out of no where, a scream of pain came from y/n. “help me, somebody help me” she begged, looking into popes chocolate brown eyes with a plead. “i need help please” she sobbed. she caught a glimpse of her leg. the one she had used for surfing, running, swimming. everything she loved to do. it’s been with her forever. she was shocked and in an unbearable pain. 

“calm down, calm down, your ok, the medivac will be here any minute ok? you need to relax” he said, rubbing the top of her wet with seawater head in an effort to calm her down. 

“where’s john b? i need john b. i- i need him” she stuttered, looking around for him as she grabbed the top of her thigh, whining in pain. 

john b came running back, leaving sarah. “your ok, hunny im right here i walked away cause you were unconscious, ok, im right here” john b caressed her cheek with his thumb, wiping away her tears and blood

“i don’t think im gonna be ok…” she reached up to grab john bs face and smiled “can you make sure jj knows i love him… please” she sighed and looked back down. she loved jj. she had since forever. she didn’t want herself to die, and what she really thought about for the past seven years of her life to be unknown.

“you can tell him once your ok. your gonna be ok” john b said crying “your gonna be ok”

sarah and kiara were sobbing at the deck of the chateau, sitting in the chairs on the deck. sarah’s head was in her hands that were being held up by her elbows. kiara’s head was against the wood boarding of the chaout looking up to the sky in a plead.

the medivac swooped in to get y/n. she was conscious but had lost a lot of blood and her leg was bearly hanging on. the loaded her up and she said goodbye to the pogues with tears in her eyes. “it was nice being with you guys. i love you” 

once she was being lifted away, they all sat there in silence, all of them covered in her blood and were shocked and crying.

“come on, we have to meet her at the hospital” jj said getting off the beach to get the twinkie. he was covered in sand and blood, but john b didn’t mind 

“let’s go” john b squeezed sarah in a hug as they walked to the car, knowing there was a good chance she was dead by now.

jjs bloody hands drove them to the hospital which was 45 minutes away. 45 minutes of silence. 45 minutes of fear. 45 minutes of grieving someone who they didn’t know was even gone

he pulled into a parking spot and they all hopped out. 

they got to the front office. none of them wanted to ask where she was, not wanting to know if she was gone. they didn’t want to have to hear it here. no where really. but in a waiting room of a hospital is not ideal.

pope finally walked up to the desk and leaned on it. “umm… im here to see y/n routlegde…” he asked numbly as the rest stood behind him

the receptionist typed up her name as they watched her as they bit their nails. “it looks like they took her to the hospital in kitty hawk. they have better care for her situation there.”

“can we get the adress” jj asked sternly from behind pope 

“yup.” she passed them a pamphlet and smiled warmly. “good luck”

they walked back outside. their hands were dry of blood and had tear streaks down their eyes. 

after an hour of silence, sarah spoke up. “if they gave an adress she’s probably ok now, right?” she sniffled after her sentence, bringing the back of her hand to her nose

“i hope” john b said as he hopped into the back seat, rubbing sarah shoulders.

jj started driving and took a wrong turn. “FUCK” he scream slamming his hands down on the wheel. he started crying even though he tried not to. 

“jj…” kiara started

“don’t. quit being emotional and shit, she’s fine” he took a breath and sniffed his nose.

he pulled back out to go the right way. he was anxious to get there and was traumatized on what happened.

“where are you going?” kiara asked softly.

“chateau. she needs her stuff and we’re here now anyway”

sarah and kiara washed up and grabbed stuff that she might need at the hospital as the boys sat in the car.

“dude… what the fuck just happened… this morning was normal and now we’re here.” pope said and he threw his head into his hands and shook his head back and forth.

jj clenched his jaw and swallowed the lump in his throat. he honked on the horn for the girls to hurry. 

the trotted back to the twinkie with suitcases and pillows. they hopped in and put her stuff in the trunk. they didn’t even get the chance to buckle in before jj stepped on the gas.

the arrived at the hospital and walked in to the check in desk.

“we’re here to to see y/n routledge” kiara said as she leaned on the counter. 

the lady frowned at the screen.

“is she ok!?!” john b yelled as he cried.

“she’s in surgery. it’s gonna be a while before she’s out. you can get an account and we will send you a notification when you can see her.” the lady informed 

john b scanned the code and filled out the paper. “we can’t see her till tomorrow. this is bullshit” he said as he stormed out of the hospital.

“it’s ok, at least we know she’s alright” sarah drew circles on john bs back as they hugged.

“i just can’t believe it…” he said 

“i know, none of us can” she cried 

“well what do we do now” pope asked 

“my moms probably freaking out” kiara said while she leaned against the door of the twinkie. arms folded 

“same” pope said

“let’s just go back to the chateau and we’ll figure it out from there, yeah?” sarah said hopefully.

“i’m not driving” jj huffed as he plopped down in the back of the car

“i got it” john b said finally letting go of sarah 

they got back to see news people out on the beach in front of the chateau 

“no, they can’t be here” jj yelled. he walked outside with kiara and grabbed their boards and towels they had left on the beach earlier.

“do you know what happened?” the news lady asked. jj and kid ignored her and packed up to go inside.

“you know, this is really shitty of you guys. a 15 year old girl probably  died and your doing a news report for money. that’s embarrassing” he said sternly, not bothered enough to look up from what he was doing.

“it’s our job, kid” one of the camera men said, pointing the camera to him

“profiting off of death? that’s gross.” kiara said as jj grabbed y/n favorite board that was bitten and looked at the marks on it.

“you have quite the nerve to come on our property for this. get out” jj spoke, pointing away from the scene.

“this isn’t your property, it’s the beach.” the same guy spoke.

“your disgusting. all of you. disgusting. i hope your family’s happy with all the money your just brought in from a tragedy. i’m appalled. don’t think my lawyer won’t be hearing about this.”  kiara said as they walked away, flipping the people off.

“i hate people. she’s probably dead and they don’t even care. all they care about is themselves” jj cried to kiara as she hugged him

“she’s gonna be ok” kiara said as she cried also.

they got back inside and the pogues started clapping from the living room.

“what?” kiara asked 

“dude that’s all over the news what you just did. thanks for sticking up for my sister” john b hugged jj and kiara 

“the last thing she wants is for everyone to know. they didn’t even ask” jj cried again.

“it’s alright, buddy. they didn’t say her name or anything” john b patted jjs back.

“oh shit. my moms freaking out. i gotta go, see you guys tomorrow” kiara grabbed her stuff and left

“i gotta go call rose. she’s probably freaking out too” sarah said 

“can you stay tho?” john b pleaded

“yes i will. she’s going to be ok” sarah warmly smiled at him

“i should probably go, my moms scared im sure.” pope said sitting up from the couch. 

“pope?” john b asked

“yeah?” 

john b hugged him and cried “thank you… you saved her thank you” 

“hey,  what’s a pogue gotta do? we stick out for each other. you don’t need to thank me” he smiled

the boys were in a group hug

“see ya” jj waved to pope

sarah came back with her phone and flopped on the couch. 

they sat in silence until john b spoke up

“that was the worst day of my life. worse than when my dad went missing.” john bs head was full of flash backs, him fighting the shark, jj tying the leash, her saying she was gonna die, it was all flooding back to him in waves. he knew it was going t be engraved in his mind d for ever.

“you can say that again. i hope she’s ok” jj looked down at his still bloodied hands. “i’m gonna go shower. get this shitty day over with” 

john b was still in his trance. “tell jj i love him. tell jj i love him.” he got up and stormed to the kitchen, cracking open a beer. he chugged it down and caught his breath.

sarah sat and watched. she didn’t want to say anything. her boyfriend just had to watch his sister die on the beach and he couldn’t do anything.

she got up and sat with him. 

after jj got out of the shower, john b hopped in. he was silently crying, realizing there was no way in letting her know he loved her. he didn’t even say it when she saw him last.

he cleaned up and relaxed a little. they went to bed

meanwhile at the hospital 

“i don’t think we can save the leg. all the tissue and muscle is ripped to shreds. even if we could, all the nerve are destroyed.” one of the doctors spoke as he examined the leg.

“alright” they removed the destroyed leg up to her thigh. it was super risky, considering she had already lost a ton of blood and taking off the leg wouldn’t help. being under anesthesia that long isn’t good for her, and she would be droopy and drowsy for a while, just from the anesthesia. the blood loss is going to be a whole other challenge.

“poor girl” one of the female doctors sighed as they stitched up her thigh. “that’s crazy”

“yup. she’s going to need a lot of recovery time. i mean that’s nothing like we usually see. good work guys.” 

y/n was still on anesthesia. she kept having a dream of the shark getting john b and jj. she couldn’t not dream it. she had to wait until the surgery was over to not have to dream about it. it’s like she was drowning and as soon as she got close enough to the top of the water to breath, she was pulled down again. just like what happened earlier in the day.

they slowly let her off the meds to wake her up. she had no clue what was going on.

“who- who are you” she looked at the nurse with wide eyes and went to move to get up, realizing her leg wasn’t there. 

she screamed in terror, looking at her stitched up thigh that led to nothing. for some reason she could remember what happened. like some sort of sick dream.

“WHERES MY LEG” she yelled sitting up “WHERES JOHN B” she started crying and the nurse walked over to her

“your ok, hunny. you were attacked by a shark. do you remember any of it?” 

“oh…yea” she started sobbing again. “i- i need my brother please. i- i need to go home”

“im sorry, hunny, you can’t go home. not until we can get you blood and monitor you. i’m sorry. i’ll call your brother to come, ok?” 

y/n suddenly felt super tired. she layed her head back into the awful hospital pillows. how much she didn’t want to go to sleep was overweighed by how physically tired her body was. she crashed hard.

she felt people hooking her up to more machines and checking her heartbeat, but she didn’t care. she was too tired to care. everything was numb. she couldn’t feel the millions of shots being injected into her body to help with pain. 

when she woke up, there was john b, sitting in the hospital chair fiddling with his fingers, the pogues next to him. she fluttered her eyes back shut, not feeling enough energy to talk to them or talk about what happened. all she wanted was to sleep.

jj noticed her opening her eyes and rushed to her side, holding her hand. they hadn’t seen the nub that was left of her leg, and didn’t want to. it would just make the situation real.

“i’m here, y/n/n” jjs voice gave her the motivation to just open her eyes and smile at him. “you don’t have to say anything, just get some rest. we’re all here”

she smiled and shut her eyes again, feeling more at ease. they hoped she would be ready to talk in a few hours. 

she woke up a few hours later with excruciating pain shooting all the way down her left leg. even the part she didn’t have anymore.

she let out a yelp and squeezed her eyes shut in pain. “what’s wrong, y/n/n, talk to me” john b spoke 

(flashback in her head) “talk to me” 

“it hurts” she cried looking at him with glossed over eyes 

“i know, im sorry”

(flashback in her head) “i know, im sorry” 

“stop, stop get out” she cried to him, feeling sorry but she was traumatized. she didnt want to remember anything from the day before, and the only words john b had said to her were the ones when it happened.

“what?” he asked, looking at her with a raised eyebrow

“get out” she sobbed. she was in pain. something about the pogues, her older brothers friends, seeing you in the state she were in yesterday made her cringe and made her want to cry. all she could think was how embarrassing it must’ve been.

“are you sure?” john b asked

“no” she sniffled. she was undeceive. “just… just stop saying that shit, please” she begged

he didn’t know what she was talking about but he didn’t want to stress her out more.

“can you eat something, please?” pope asked, offering her a sandwich they got from the cafeteria.

she turned her head “i’m not hungry”

“you need to restore blood that you lost, you need to eat to have enough energy. please” pope begged, finding her eyes again. 

she held it up to her mouth to take a bite but couldn’t. she couldn’t eat. she didn’t know why, she just couldn’t.

“y/n, please eat. you need to” john b begged

“do you want something else?” sarah asked patting her right thigh.

y/n flinched at the touch. “n-no im not hungry” 

“we can do it the easy way or the hard way, y/n. you need to eat.” john b gets mad when he’s scared

“i- no” she started crying again. 

“it’s ok y/n” jj shot john b a glare as he hugged y/n. just by the hug in the hospital bed, he could tell that the leg was missing. it broke his heart, but he needed to stay strong”

“do you want to get better or not?” john b snapped at her 

she looked at him with wide eyes and her bottom lip quivered.

“john b!” sarah yelled at him, going to join the hug with y/n and jj”

“i- im sorry i- i don’t know what got into me but you need to eat. you can eat it yourself or get the tube. i don’t want to force you to do something but it’s the only way you’ll feel better. please y/n”

“fine… but i don’t want that” she pointed to the sand which in disgust.

“i’ll be back” john b grabbed the keys to the twinkie to go get her her favorite soup from panera. 

“how are you feeling, can i get you anything?” pope offered while he sat in the squishy blue chair in the hospital room.

“it hurts. my leg hurts even though it’s not there, it hurts” she explained looking down numbly

“i read about that once. it’s called phantom pain” pope informed

“shut up” jj said slowly as he turned his head to look over to pope. he still had his hand on hers, head still resting on her right thigh. 

“sorry” 

“it’s ok… where did john b go?” tears started to well in her eyes

“im not sure.” sarah said looking to the parking lot from the hospital window.

“where’s kie?” she sniffled 

“her mom went on a big rant, she wasn’t aloud to come” jj explained

“about what”

“n-nothing” he shook his head. he didn’t want to talk to you about how her mom was scared and didn’t want it to be kie.

around 15 minutes later, john b came back with a soup, just how she liked it. 

he face grew a smile and she sat up, letting go of jjs hand. “thank you john b!” she clapped her hands as her brother moved the bedside table to over her lap. 

she ate her soup in happiness until a doctor came in.

“hello, i’m doctor smith” the blonde lady explained. “i’m just here to check on your stitches and give you your pain meds, is that ok?” she asked y/n

for some reason, y/n had it all planned out in her head that the pogues would never see the stub that was left of her leg. she looked at the group in an indecisive way.

“uh- we can leave if you want?” pope said in a questioning voice

“it’s…it’s ok… you can stay” the doctor pulled down the rack abt the opposite side of the bed and gently pulled the sheets off her leg.

sarah gasped but quickly shoved her hand over her face. john b turned around to take a breath. pope watched with a puzzeled look on his face. jj looked numb and y/n was just sitting there, watching the reactions.

she looked to the side as tears welled back up in her eyes. her emotions were high. the moment was cut off by the doctor

“it looks like it’s healing well, it will take a few months for it to recover but it’s on the right track” she smiled to y/n and put the covers back over it.

the got the shot ready. she injected it into her arm without a warning, causing y/n to jump at the feeling.

“i’m sorry… it looks like it didn’t go in all the way, i have to redo it, im so sorry, i should’ve given a warning” 

y/n was just hit by a bunch of shark teeth, she wasn’t expecting herself to flinch over a measly shot. 

“its ok” the doctor counted off and put a new one in her arm. even though everyone was in the room, she felt like she was by herself. 

they stayed in the hospital for 3 more weeks, y/n was sick of it. the constant check ups, the shots, the not being able to turn on the tv without jj and kiara outbreak, the smell of cleaning supplies, the not being able to really do what she wanted, all of it. all she wanted was to go home.

“we can order you a prosthetic leg. your insurance will cover it, and it will help you get around” the doctor told her 

she shrugged her shoulders and said ok. they fitted her for it.

“it won’t be here for around another month” 

they got home, y/n waddling in on her one leg. she looked around before flopping on the couch. she looked out to the scene of the accident and her face frowned. she wasn’t expecting to feel this emotional about just the spot.

jj noticed and went to hold her. they snuggled up together on the couch, him giving her a kiss on the top of her head.

“what was that for” she smiled, looking up to him.

“i love you, y/n, i love you. i heard you that day, i know what you said to john b and i love you too” 

her smile grew and she layed her head back into his chest, trying to hide the pink flush in her cheeks. he lifted her head back up and kissed her. 

“what do you guys want for di-“ john b stopped himself when he saw you two kissing. he turned around slowly and walked back outside.

they smiled as their foreheads touched, giving them both butterflies.

“i’m sorry you had to see all of that on the beach i-“ 

“you don’t have to be sorry… it’s not your fault that damn fish with teeth got you.”

she smiled at his antics, placing her forehead on his chest.

“it was scary. i was scared. probably more than you” he admitted 

“i doubt it” she booped his nose and fell asleep on his chest.

the next few months consisted of pt and lots of encouragement. as soon as she could go back out into the waves, she was ready. all she needed to think when she was scared was the wise words of her boyfriend, jj maybank  “the chances of getting bit once is 1 in a million. twice is just impossible” 

she slowly climbed her way back to being herself. the relief of taking off your shoes after a long day was replaced by taking off her leg. they all still loved her, even if she was a peg leg.

jj started calling her a peg leg once she was ready for jokes. she thought it was hilarious and laughed everytime. 

she was going to be ok 😊

[lightdancingwords]

One Day - Part Two of ?

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character

Series Summary: You were rescued by Dean Winchester a long time ago. Over time, you kept bumping into each other.

Word Count: 2,420

Tags/Warnings: Violence, profanity, angst, argument, monsters/supernatural

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! This story is AU as it does veer a bit from the history we see in Season 1 of Supernatural. There will be references to episodes and seasons, but it'll change as the chapters come. Enjoy the ride!

Dividers: credit to @talesmaniac89

Chapter Two: Scent of a Woman

If you looked up repetition in the dictionary, Dean was convinced you’d find his photo. His life for the last two years since that rather eventful week in Indiana was essentially fucking, drinking, cheating at poker, and hunting down monsters. It was perfect.

There was only one problem: no Sam.

In the two fucking years since Sam left to go to Stanford to live a boring ass ordinary life, Dean remained daddy’s good little soldier. He did what he was told and he was damned good at it.

Unlike Sam, John didn’t judge what Dean did on his free time. Hell, John was so busy doing whatever he was doing that they barely spoke outside of hunting. That suited Dean just fine, if only because then he didn’t have to see the disappointment in John’s eyes.

As for Sam… Christ, it was obvious that he was enjoying the picket fenced life. Neither John nor Sam were aware that Dean stopped by Stanford to check on his baby brother. He had been tasked with keeping Sam safe and by God, he’d do it.

Not that Sam needed protecting. He seemed to be doing damned fine. He went to classes, hung out with this drop-dead gorgeous blonde, and overall seemed so damned happy it was like a knife to Dean’s gut every time he went.

So when John called Dean with a job while Dean was checking on Sam, he grabbed it instantly. Anything to forget that big ass smile on that baby brother of his.

God. He might go get drunk after this hunt. Maybe find a hot chick or two and bury his emotions for a while. Just enjoy the fucking and—

Dean’s line of thought sputtered to a stop as he pulled up to the address John sent him. It was a goddamned mental asylum. Either John was telling him to commit himself or there was a serious clue Dean was missing.

Let’s see. Power wasn’t on, big sign. Okay. Metal bars on the windows, wildly illegal after a point in history. No fences of any kind, that was puzzling.

What the hell did his father send him to this time? Was John trying to convey something without outright saying it? He hoped not, but it wouldn’t be the first time the Winchester men made a mess out of not talking. They specialized in fists, not words.

Pausing long enough to grab a flashlight and his shotgun and a pocketful of rock salt bullets, Dean headed inside. The fact the front door gave way easier than Elizabeth Hurley—

He sighed, shoved that little sexual fantasy to the side, and kept on going.

It was so sterile and bland that Dean had to keep checking he wasn’t missing anything noteworthy. White walls and white linoleum with white curtains. Christ. Didn’t these people hear of color?

Halfway through his very boring walk-through the asylum, it occurred to Dean there was a scent in the building that stood out. Underneath the stench of stale air and standing water, there was something flowery. Fresh. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

Every so often, Dean would flash the light behind him, to the sides, and see absolutely nothing. Yet, he was convinced he wasn’t alone, that something or someone was mirroring him at the other side of the asylum.

“Ollie ollie oxen free,” he muttered. God. Why was that flowery smell niggling at him? As though something or someone was here and he ought to pay attention. Well, excuse me princess. Despite the obvious skill set—he was alive after all—Dean was hard pressed to declare himself worthwhile of saving.

God, he needed a drink. And a girl. Preferably both.

He was so distracted in his thoughts that he almost didn’t hear the click of a gun behind him, followed by the low, husky tones of a woman’s voice:

“Don’t move.”

Dean hesitated, sighed. Great. Just great. He half-turned to glance over his shoulder, but couldn’t see who it was. “You know… it’s polite to introduce yourself before you turn a gun on someone.”

“Right. It’s also ‘polite’ to break into an asylum,” she retorted. She sounded familiar, but Dean’s memory couldn’t call her up. Maybe one of his one-night stands? One of the people he rescued in the past? He couldn’t remember.

“Uh, lady, you broke in too,” he retorted.

She was quiet. He could almost feel her scowling at him and he grinned. Slowly, he turned around and saw her. He narrowed his eyes as her as he studied her. Oh yeah. He knew her. He just couldn’t place her. Then he got the whiff of the flowery scent again and the memory came back. That damned kiss. That vampire. That silo.

“Shit. Y/N?”

She drew back in surprise, then took a step closer. Then another. He could feel her eyes on him, taking in the details. The leather coat. The jeans. The boots. The amulet. Then he felt her study his face, and the focus sharpened.

“Oh my God…” she muttered. “Dean.”

He smiled lopsidedly. “Fancy meeting you here.” His expression darkened, the smile gone. “Why are you here? In fact, what the fuck are you doing with a gun?”

“Long story,” she said defensively. “Why are you here?”

“Long story,” he echoed back with a scowl. Son of a bitch. This complicated matters. Last time he saw Y/N, she was studying to be a veterinarian, not being a wanna-be hunter in a potentially haunted mental asylum.

She met him in a stare down. He waited her out, determined to out-glare her. God, he felt like a 10 year old in an argument with another 10 year old. In the two years since he last saw Y/N, she definitely did not change. Still fiesty, still hot.

His libido did it again. It popped out of the box and inquired, if you please, if this time, he got the girl. He tried to ignore it.

“Oh come on!” He caved and he was not happy. God damn, she could really stare him down. “This isn’t right! You shouldn’t be here! You should be back in—in blasted Indiana, getting your groove on with your fellow college kids, not here!”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t have a choice,” she shot back. There was something in her voice that had he slanting a look at her.

“What do you mean, you didn’t have a choice?” he demanded.

“After you left, I… I tried to pretend I wasn’t aware of the supernatural, of monsters.” She shook her head. “It lasted two weeks before something else happened.”

“What?” Dean was so surprised he took several steps toward her. “What else happened? Why didn’t I hear about it?”

“Because I dealt with it,” she said fiercely. Dean stared. The fuck? She dealt with it?! “It was a haunting in one of the dorms. A time capsule had been dug up, someone stole a bracelet from it, and pissed off a spirit.”

Dean couldn’t believe his ears. He was the hunter, and this chick was aiming for his job! He couldn’t decide if he should be impressed or annoyed. “Are you shittin’ me? You decided to play hunter?”

She set her jaw. God help him, it looked hot. Damn libido. “Yes, I was the hunter. I did the research, tracked down the stolen bracelet, salted and burned it.”

Oh shit, she’s a female Sam. “So… what, you decided, ‘hey, I did this right, I’ll do it professionally’?”

“God, could you be any more condescending? No, that’s not what happened!” She shifted her stance, and God, that did everything to emphasize her curves. Dean yanked his libido and shoved it back into a mental box. Not the time or place, Winchester. “I went back to classes, I did the studies… but…” She sighed. “Things kept happening. I started noticing a pattern. And… I quit.”

“You quit college? You?” He wasn’t about to forget how hard Y/N got on his case about how she had a scholarship to Purdue and no, it wasn’t easy missing classes.

“Yes! I couldn’t…” There was something in her expression that tugged at his heart. He sat on his emotional reaction; he couldn’t afford to go soft. “I couldn’t forget what I knew, what I saw. T-the vampire, the ghost…. I started noticing weird things in the news, local gossip. I tried, Dean,” and her voice cracked. “But I couldn’t ignore it.”

“So you… instead of, oh I dunno, calling me, telling me about this shit, you decided to go hunting yourself?! How the hell did you even get trained?” He raked his fingers through his hair, wanted to scream at her. She was reckless, untrained. It was a miracle she even stayed alive this long.

She frowned at him. Shit, she looked hot mad. “The number you gave me on that fake card? Disconnected, dumbass. What was I supposed to do?!”

“Not hunt them yourself, that’s for damned sure!” Dean would’ve said more, but then there was a creak. He froze, glanced around, reaching for his gun. Y/N noticed and also followed his lead, looking around. Thank God, she had brains and knew when to pay attention.

“Do you smell that?” he whispered.

Y/N looked around and frowned. “It smells… cold?”

“Yeah. That’s not good. Come here,” he said, reaching for her. She moved over to him willingly, half-turned so her back to was to him. Smart girl. Damn.

There was a loud BOOM that echoed through the asylum, rattling the walls and sending a shower of dust raining down from the ceiling.

“What the hell was that?” she hissed.

Dean spun around, just in time to see chairs, broken tables, and shards of glass hurling down the hallway toward them, propelled by some unseen force.

“Move!” he shouted, grabbing her arm. They bolted as debris smashed into the walls around them, splinters and glass flying like shrapnel.

The hallway twisted into chaos. A metal filing cabinet slammed into the wall inches from Y/N’s shoulder. She stumbled, and Dean yanked her upright without breaking stride.

“There!” Dean pointed to an open doorway. They darted inside, pressing their backs against the wall as the storm of objects roared past the door.

Dean’s breathing was heavy, his green eyes scanning their surroundings. “Okay, so I think it’s safe to say this one’s pissed.”

“No kidding,” Y/N whispered, clutching her gun like a lifeline. “Did you see where it came from?”

Dean’s gaze flicked to the hallway. “It’s not random. Something’s triggering it.”

They peeked out into the hallway. The barrage had stopped, but the oppressive energy still hung heavy in the air.

Y/N’s flashlight beam landed on a pair of cracked, wire-rimmed glasses lying in the center of the chaos.

“There,” she said, nudging Dean and pointing. “Think it’s those?”

Dean’s jaw tightened. “Wouldn’t be the first time a haunted object’s caused this much fun.” He pulled a salt pouch and lighter from his jacket. “Cover me.”

Y/N stepped into the hall first, eyes darting, gun at the ready. Dean followed, moving swiftly toward the glasses. Just as he bent to scoop them up, the air around them chilled, and the light above them shattered.

A guttural scream ripped through the hallway, and a shadowy figure materialized at the far end, surging toward them.

“Hurry!” Y/N shouted.

Dean didn’t hesitate. He dumped salt over the glasses, struck the lighter, and flicked it into the pile.

The glasses caught fire instantly, the flames licking unnaturally high as the shadow let out a deafening shriek. The figure dissolved into smoke, its form writhing and twisting before vanishing completely.

Dean stood, brushing ash from his hands, and glanced at Y/N. “You okay?”

She exhaled a shaky breath, lowering her gun. “Yeah. You?”

Dean smirked. “I’m fine. Another day, another homicidal spirit taken care of.”

She gave him a look. “You’re lucky that ghost didn’t chuck you into the wall.”

“Hey, I’ve got a thick skull,” Dean quipped, flashing a cocky grin.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. Together, they turned back toward the exit, their footsteps echoing through the now-silent asylum.

Once they reached the outside, he glanced at Y/N. “You know, I’m still not cool with you being a hunter.”

She sighed. “You gonna stop me?”

He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Wouldn’t do any good. Short of tyin’ you up—and man, that’d be fun—you’d just keep hunting after I left. I don’t suppose you’d listen?”

“I can’t,” she said, glancing away into the dark. “I… I know too much now. Unless you knew a way for me to forget…”

“Lobotomy?” he offered. She scoffed, and he grinned halfheartedly. “There isn’t. This… this is it, Y/N. This is my life. It doesn’t have to be yours. You can just go back to your life. I got this. I’ll even give you my real number, okay?”

She hesitated, and for a long moment, he dared to hope to keep someone from the hunting life. He grew up in it; it was all he knew. He wasn’t set for the picket fenced life, no matter how much he’d envy seeing families together, happy and innocent. Then she shook her head, and he felt his stomach sink. Damn. Hot and stubborn, just like before.

“I can’t, Dean,” she whispered, and he was surprised to see unshed tears glittering in her eyes. “Ignorance is bliss. I can’t pretend to not notice all the wrong things around us.”

He heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I had a feeling.” He pursed his lips, grabbed one of his fake cards that had his actual phone number on it. “Here. It’s my real number. Call me, okay, if you find something you need help with. I’ll come. I promise.”

Y/N took the card, studied him. “Thanks.” She cleared her throat, blinked back her tears. “Thanks for… helping me.”

He quirked a half-smile. “Yeah, well, you didn’t give me a choice.”

She chuckled, lightly patted his cheek. “Remember that next time you try to shove me out of a hunt.”

“Yeah, well…” God, her hand was soft, and she looked so freaking good. “We still have time.”

Her eyes narrowed a bit as she heard the husky, flirty note in his voice. “Not happening, Winchester.”

God damn it. His libido screamed in the box in his head. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

“Yes, I can.”

He grinned. “See you around, sweetheart.”

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28, @deansimpalababy, @daisychaingirl