#ghost has a dad snore | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peachesofteal · 3 months

Text

Simple Math / Part Seven

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.8k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Brief suggestive content, sex dream. Mentions of domestic violence, stalking. Hospital setting, nurse!reader. Feelings of fear, anxiety. Mentions of stress and weight loss. Soft dads. Little bit of flirting. Simon is... Simon. You get caught in a spell.

Johnny knows this is a dream.

It’s an odd thing, to be conscious of it, to know you’re dreaming but still unable to control your actions. It’s like watching a movie of yourself, but also being yourself, directing your body without having a say in what it’s doing.

He knows this is a dream, because you’re in it. You’re in their home, in one of Simon’s oversized sweatshirts, boy shorts rucked up over the little lightning bolts that arc across your hips, the underside of your cheeks. You’re smiling at him too, like you belong in there, like it’s yours too, and his heart swells, growing to a preposterous size.

“There’s my bunny.” He pulls you into his chest, mouthing up your neck and over your jaw. Your skin tastes like sugar, and when he gets to your lips, his hands shift, sliding down your back to grab two fistfuls of your ass with a groan. “Missed ye.”

“We missed you too.” His fingers trace the edge of your panty line, barely dipping into where you drip for him. “Come to bed, Si’s waiting.” You whisper, stifling a moan.

“Johnny.” Simon calls him, too loudly. He wants to hiss, snap at him about not waking the baby. “Johnny!”

His eyes blink open. White ceiling stares back at him, and he turns his head, finding Simon with a bemused look on his face.

“I was havin’ a great dream.” Johnny grumbles, latching onto him. Simon scoots closer, lifting the back of his hand to his lips with a secretive smile, dotting kisses down to his wrist.

“I know.”

“- and he has access privileges, as long he’s not interfering with care, he’s allowed to be in the room whenever he deems fit. Obviously, in cases where he shouldn’t be, like burn debridement, he’s fine with stepping out, but you should expect him to sleep here.” The nurse nods, nervously peeking over your shoulder at Simon, who’s lurking in the hallway, staring through the glass at the transport techs getting Johnny settled in his room. You catch her eyes, motioning to redirect her attention, and she mumbles a meek apology. “They have a daughter, who Johnny has been mostly separated from since he got here, and he’s hoping to see her often, since she’ll be allowed to visit more freely now. I told him it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay.” Her toes tap against linoleum, weight shifting from foot to foot, and you resist the urge to sprint back to her boss and demand someone else. Fuck. Why does Nora have to be on maternity leave?

“This is my favorite patient.” You warn her instead, dropping your voice low, pitching it brazenly serious. “I don’t ever want to see him back upstairs again, and that’s going to depend a lot on you.”

“Okay, okay.” Her work phone rings, and you jerk your head in dismissal, not quite finished, but not seeing a need to continue to harangue her, either.

Simon glances at you from down the hall, head turning once you’re alone. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t call to you, or say your name, but you’re helpless to the magnetic yank of his presence, a beam of gravity dragging you closer until you’re shoulder to shoulder, looking into Johnny’s room. He’s asleep, dark lashes feathered against his cheeks, blissed out and nearly snoring. “This will be great.” You say quietly. “He can see Penny almost as much as he wants down here. There are far less restrictions, and he’s doing so well, there’s nothing to worry about it.” He doesn’t say anything, just watches you with the x-ray vision that peels you open. Like he’s digging around in your head again.

“D’you have a minute?” You blink at him, graceful words dried out and missing.

“Uh, I… yeah, I’m technically off now so. Sure?”

“Have a tea with me? I’ll meet you outside the café, on the patio. Ten minutes alright?” Have a… have a tea with him?

His eyes are heavy. They’re lasered, locked onto yours, brows knitted together in something soft, some form of emotion that you don’t understand, framing his face above the mask. How can you say no?

“Okay, sure. Ten minutes.” You try to hide how your hands shake, tucking fingernail to palm, squeezing tight.

It doesn’t escape him.

You grow more afraid with each day, that nothing does.

The paper cup cradled in Simon’s outstretched grip is like every other paper cup you’ve seen before, drank from a thousand times, with steam wafting from its rim and aromatics spilling out into the air. “Sorry.” You blurt, reaching. His fingers brush against yours, warm contact momentarily stunning you. ‘Thanks.” You lift the tea to your nose, inhaling deeply.

Irish breakfast. With milk. Your favorite.

“How do you know what tea I drink?” You don’t mean for it to sound so suspicious, or aggressive, but it does. It’s nearly accusatory, but doesn’t affect him. He merely shrugs in response.

“I pay attention.” An engine turns over in the carpark, a small car sweeping across the lot as it turns out onto the street. You watch, feigning mild interest, trying to get a closer look at the driver without appearing too fixated. “So.” He sips, and then removes the lid, vapor rising from the top in a delicate little dance. “How long have you been at Addenbrooke’s?”

“A few years.” The answer is effortlessly supplied, like you’re under a spell. Your eyes go round. What are you doing? Crow’s feet crinkle at the corners of his own, and you manage a shaky smile.

“What brought you across the pond?” He jokes, velvet, soothing lilt in his voice.

“Work.” It’s easy to lie about this, the fabrication usually used in casual conversation almost every day with patients and new coworkers, people who are interested in you being from somewhere else, having a different accent, different education, customs, the whole lot. His jaw moves behind the mask, and before he can push the question further, you rush out your own interruption. “Simon, I want… I want to talk to you about something.”

“Sure.” He nods. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s… the other night Johnny said something about,” Your face is nearly scalding, embarrassment laden lump stuck in the back of your throat. “about you and him, and… me, I guess…” you trail off, eyes darting down into the tea.

“Go on?”

“He said that you guys think I’m special, and you- you said-“

“That we’re here for you.” He finishes, nonchalant.

“Right.” You breathe a little easier, knowing he knows what you’re talking about, words picking up steam. “I want you to know that it’s totally normal to feel this way. It happens a lot, you know. Patients and, or their family members, loved ones, they get attached. This affection starts to happen towards a member of the care team because we become that person who… provides care, twenty-four seven. So, you and… and Johnny, feeling like you have this attachment towards me, it’s very normal. Not a big deal.” You finish in one big breath, cutting your ramble short. His cheeks swell behind the fabric, like he’s smiling, eyes squinting again.

“That’s not what this is.” That’s not… what this is? What does that mean?

“What?”

“Transference. That’s not what is happening here.”

“How do you…”

“I’ve had years of therapy.” He sighs. “Are you uncomfortable?” Say yes, the girl in your head screams. Tell him you need it all to stop. That you don’t like them, that it’s inappropriate. You know how this will end.

“No.” You don’t know why you don’t acquiesce to your own good sense, why you ignore the very clear boundaries and rules that have kept you alive this long.

“Bunny, I need you tell me, honestly, if you are uncomfortable.” He levels you with an intense look, seriousness bleeding from his irises to yours. You press your palms flat on the table, quelling their trembling.

“It’s not… it’s not you. Or Johnny.” You whisper, eyes slipping shut. It’s easier that way, to just close them, to hide. To pretend you’re somewhere else, to block everything out.

What the fuck are you doing right now? Your brain screams, but your heart wails.

What is it like, to be loved like that? To be known like that? To be held in someone's heart, cherished and protected?

“Sweetheart,” Simon’s voice is low, calming, and when you don’t answer, one of his hands folds over yours. “are you with me?”

“Yes.” You peek at him, and then fully let yourself look around, steadying the rancid fear that permeates through your body. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He hums, hand still over yours. It’s warm, and broad, big thumb stroking a slow circle into your skin. “Is today your Friday?” You nod.

“It is, yeah. I’m… I’m looking forward to catching up on some sleep.” He straightens in the chair, shoulders and torso so unbelievably wide, like a long forgotten mythological god. Or the trunk of a massive tree.

“Will you have dinner with us, tonight?” The last of the orange red dawn spills over the crest of the buildings, and the world spins, cold sweat breaking out down your back.

“What?”

“Dinner, with us. I’m picking up takeaway for Johnny from his favorite place as a celebration, for graduating the ICU. We’d love to spend some time with you. Get to know you, if that’s alright.”

“Oh, I…” Say no, you have to say no, shut this down. It’s too much risk.

“No pressure. Just, hanging out, talking. As friends, if you like.” Butterflies thrash in your stomach so violently your knees bounce, and your heart leaps, pitching itself off a cliff like it wants to die.

“Okay.”

“Great. I can pick you u-“

“No! No, I’m fine. I have some errands to run after I get up for the day so, I’ll just meet you here.” It will be just like going to work. No harm, no foul. You can hang out with them, and go home, just like you’re at work. It doesn’t mean anything. It won’t.

You barely sleep. You pace, you nap, you thumb through endless craigslist listings in faraway cities for apartments, you read. You take the long way through the city back to your flat and slowly sift through pieces of your life that you want to keep. Your quilt from home, that’s been tucked away on a shelf. A sentimental trinket that belonged to your mom, also hidden in a drawer. These things that can be removed, without being noticed.

Not that it matters.

He hasn’t been here. Not since the sick shit he pulled with your underwear. It makes you curious when you inspect the undisturbed tape on the back side of the door, the light dusting of baking powder on the bedroom carpet, but not surprised.

It’s not unlike him, to make himself known and then suddenly disappear, the endless mind games partially intentional, and partially something not even he can control.

After all, duty calls.

He could still be in the city. He could still be watching. You don’t know anything for sure.

“Three things you cannot outrun in this world, babe. Death, taxes, and… me.” You mumble it to yourself, the same words that live in your head, in his voice, repeated, pulling a pair of scrubs from your dresser.

But you had been running, and still had your life to show for it.

It doesn’t matter, you know how this will end.

You’ve changed your clothes five times. You hem and haw in front of the mirror, trying not to look too closely at any one piece of yourself, switching shirt and pant combos until you finally settle on your usual, a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt. They’re high waisted, because low rise is not even within the realm of possibility for your hips, and you appreciate how they fit, even if they may sit a little loose right now, given your recent stress levels.

You look fine, you decide. You look professional. You don’t really look attractive, in any way, but the scars on your torso are hidden, and with a little bit of make-up, you think you look presentable. At the very least, you don’t look like you’re half asleep, which is exactly how you feel.

Not like it matters, you chide. This isn’t a thing; it’s just hanging out. You’re going to put an end to this entire charade, tonight.

The train is quiet, and you’re extra watchful. Every face, every movement is logged, every jacket or hat or hood is inspected. Posture, skin tone, height, of every person you pass or see is tabulated and run through your mind. Your brain, a supercomputer in its own right, does it all, seamlessly. It wants to protect you, it keeps you on guard, it can look at a crowd of twenty people all facing the opposite direction and locate a potential threat, just by the shape of the shoulders.

You don’t see him, you don’t feel him, your skin doesn’t prickle, and you let the lack thereof bring you peace, if only for a few moments.

Johnny’s floor is bustling. You wave hi to those you know, checking in with his nurse for a moment, letting her know you’ll be hanging out for a bit. She doesn’t even bat an eye, thankfully, and you try to settle yourself as you turn down the hall.

You’re not prepared for what you find when you knock on his door and slide it open, breath catching for a moment, and you scramble to cover your initial balk.

Their daughter is here. She’s cuddled up on Johnny’s good side, the one without the burnt tissue or recovering surgical wound. She’s asleep, wearing a black onesie covered in skulls, her head tipped back and mouth open, chubby cheeks and sweet little face perfectly content. She’s got her entire fist wrapped around one of Johnny’s fingers, holding it right under her chin like she’s afraid he might vanish while her eyes are closed. “Hey, bun.” Johnny whispers, smiling so wide, two fingers stroking through the wispy curls on top of her head. “We snuck in a visitor tonight.”

“I see.” Your heart trembles.

“Fell asleep right away, next to her Da. Been missin’ him these past few nights.” Simon chuckles, patting Johnny’s leg gently, affectionately. There’s a bag of take out on the table behind him, as well as what looks like an overnight bag, a purple duffel stuffed full. “Price is on his way to pick her up.” Penny gurgles, eyes blinking open in a sleepy daze like she knew they were talking about her.

“Ye’re alright, sh-shh, wee lamb.” Johnny coos. She’s half soothed by his words, but the lights in the room are far too bright, and her small noises waver into a cry, frustrated and tired. He tries move her, cradler her higher up his chest, but his face falls with pain, and Simon swoops in, pulling her into his arms. “Bunny, could ye-“

“Would you-“ They both try to ask at once, and you flounder once you realize the intention, a cranky, sleepy Penelope being pushed into your arms.

“I-“ she wails, interrupting you, bending you to her will without fuss, and you hold her closer, rocking side to side, humming above her ear. Just like the NICU, like a patient, like your stint in L&D, it’s fine, it’s-

“Sorry, sweetheart.” Not fine. It’s not fine. Heat burns in your belly. He can’t call you that, not when you’re holding their baby. “Thank you.” Simon says over his shoulder. He’s moving Johnny, lowering the bed slightly to help reposition him, and they speak quietly to one another, voices low enough you can’t make out any of the words.

“I can help you with him, if you want.” He waves you off.

“I need the practice, won’t have you around all the time anymore, yeah? And once he gets home…”

“Ach. ‘m not paralyzed. Jus’ uncomfortable.” Johnny glowers, pouting, and you roll your eyes, rhythm steady, gently bouncing, letting Penny cuddle into your chest, snuggling her face against your arm and side. She’s beautiful, precious and sweet, cooing herself back into a light slumber, and you smile despite yourself, still rocking after her eyes start to shut. “Knew she’d like ye.” He says softly, and you glance up, surprised by the intensity of their focus, heavy gazes fixed on you.

“She’s very sweet.” Your lips twist.

“She is.” Simon agrees. “We were happy to get her some time with her Da. Good for both of ‘em.” His fingers find Johnny’s cheek, and then their hands meet, a palm pressed to lips, a whispered a I love you.

An intimate moment, as you stand there with their baby in your arms.

“Alright, now that ye’ve done the hard work by gettin’ her back down,” Johnny gestures, urging you to step forward, and you carefully place her back in his arms. For a moment, your faces are level, and you get caught in his eyes, nerves strung so tight they could be a tightrope. “I’ve got her.” Weeks in the hospital, and he still smells like cedar and oranges, woodsy citrus that envelopes you, your lashes fluttering on the inhale. “She likes ye.” He murmurs, breath warm and tickling over your cheek.

“Well, she’s...” you straighten, hands smoothing down the front of your top. They’re moist, somehow, and you tuck them behind your back. “She’s a good judge of character, I guess.” Simon’s phone vibrates, Johnny’s plush smile turning dour, and he sighs.

“Okay baby girl. It’s time.” She cries a little, readjusting to Simon’s hold, and he slings the purple duffel over his shoulder, promising to be right back. Johnny nods, eyes downcast, and his face twists once the door shuts, cheeks turning red, staccato, hiccupped breaths coming fast.

“Hey.” You whisper. “Hey, Johnny.” The chair at his bedside creaks under you, and you lean forward, fingertips lightly caressing the tape residue that still sticks to his skin. You should clean that off.

“’m alright.” His shoulders roll, chin jutting out, brilliant blue gleam in his eyes returning, like storm clouds rolling off after rain. He’s silent for a beat, pinky finger folding over yours. “How was yer day?”

“Oh, it was… fine.”

“Simon said ye were goin’ to catch up on some sleep?”

“Yeah, I didn’t.” You laugh, and he smiles. “I feel okay though. Still awake at least.”

“I’m glad… ye came. I’m sorry if the other night, I was too… forward.”

“That’s okay. You’re just… so flirty, I don’t even know what to do with myself.” You tease, expecting to get a lighthearted quip in response, or a laugh, but he gives you neither, only a serious, sympathetic expression.

“I didnae mean to make ye uncomfortable. Felt terrible, when ye ran off, I-“

“I’m fine, Johnny. You… you didn’t. I mean, it was just… confusing, this is… this is a lot.” He nods.

“I know it is.”

“And you don’t even know me.” His brow creases, focus narrowed in so tightly on you, white walls, white hospital blanket, white everything falling away in a spiral of color.

“I know ye better than ye might think." He cracks a smile. "We want to, if ye’d let us.” No, you don’t. You almost say it. Almost promise him that knowing you would be the stuff of their nightmares, that they have no idea what they’re trying to bite into, or bite off, a near guarantee that it would be than they could chew.

“Well, no harm in making new friends, right?” You entreat weakly, and his eyes flash, ethos of an entire life that you have no knowledge of slipping through, and the dark severity rumbling in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine.

“Aye, bun. Especially when they look like ye in a pair of jeans.”

Dinner is an idyllic affair. Johnny’s favorite takeaway turns out, is Indian, like yours, and the three of you talk for hours, trading bites back and forth, laughing and listening to stories, discovering little bits and pieces about their lives while running interference on personal questions about yourself, allowing them to dip in skin deep, skimming off the top but never getting further. They tell you about themselves, Penelope, their jobs, how they met, and Johnny confides in you about his sketchbook collection, pages upon pages of charcoal and pencil line work, portraits of Simon and Pen covering each page, landscapes, and the occasional cartoon. Your spine eventually starts to wilt, muscles liquifying into goo that can barely hold you upright, and you curl up in the armchair, chin on your palm, listening to the ebb and flow of their voices as they tell you a particular story about how they came to find their current home, a near slapstick comedy about an interaction with the previous owner. Their voices soothe your restless mind, wrap you in a cozy embrace that feels so safe, so comfortable that you can’t fight the languid, siren call of sleep, eyes drooping into darkness, drifting away on their melodies, content and too tired to rationally put together what’s happening. At some point, something covers you up, knit warmth that is tucked in around your shoulders, your feet, a tender touch on your neck and cheek. A whisper of affection soothes the unease that lurks in the background of it all, and you fall into it lazily, farther into the hold of sleep, something your brain and body are desperate for.

When the lights go dim, you don’t even realize, already lost to the sand of slumber.

Around midnight, you wake with a start. Your heart is racing, triple timing in your chest, and you squint in the dark, trying to parse together where you are, what happened.

Oh no. Oh god, did you fall asleep on them? Did you fall asleep in Johnny’s room?

Simon calls your name. He’s settled in a recliner, head turned your direction, mellow light from the little lamp spilling across his features. “Are you alright?” Your mouth is dry, the web of sleep that holds you in suspension finally starting to wane, fuzzy clouds in your head trying to clear without much luck.

“How long was I out?”

“Four hours.”

“I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head.

“Wanted to let you sleep. I know you were tired, and Johnny was out almost immediately after you.”

“Th-thanks.” Your back groans, muscle and bone grinding together, stiff from sleeping in a cramped position for hours, and you’re surprisingly unsteady on your feet. Simon’s out of his chair in a second, turning around the end of Johnny’s bed to offer you a hand, his other lightly resting between your shoulder blades.

“Easy.”

“Sorry… just… think ‘m more tired than I realized.” It’s dark, and you’re disorientated, woozy, tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth, limbs and lids still heavy and desperate to fall back asleep.

“I’ll drive you home.” His keys jingle, and you know you should reject him, refute this presumption, push him off, but you can’t string the right words together in your mind, can’t bring yourself to truculently pull away.

So, you don’t. And to your surprise, your shock, it feels… nice. You let him open the door for you, get you settled, you listen to his music on the way, city flying past outside the window, quiet hour of the night crawling by. You let him help you out of the car when you pull up to the curb, and when he asks if he can walk you up, your rational pugnacity is nowhere to be found.

“This is me.” You gesture to the door, fumbling in your wallet for your keycard.

“How long have you been in the hotel?”

“Oh, not long. Reno just started so…” His head turns, surveilling the hallway. You’re in an end room, far from the elevator but close to the stairs, as requested, and there’s a camera that sits on the ceiling, green dot consistently blinking. He glances at it, then back to you, head tilted.

“Are you safe here?” The world goes cold. Your stomach roils, blood draining from your face, and you try to hold yourself steady, mind turning over a million times. You’re overreacting. He’s just asking in a general sense. He doesn’t know. He couldn’t. Breathe. Deep breath.

“I uh, yeah. It’s got a deadbolt.” Along with a door stop alarm, and a security bar. He steps closer, so close that you can smell him, fresh laundry and musk, something spicy lingering there, something dark and enchanting.

“Are you in trouble, little bunny?” You’re in his shadow, beneath the stretch of a mountain, shielded by it, by a monolith so large it could blot out the sun. It overwhelms you, slows the racing pace of your mind, and you try to sort through the merry go round of feelings that are all trying to push their way out of your mouth.

You’ve never felt this. Never felt this… desire, to entrust someone with your life. Never felt this… attraction, this hold that the two of them have on you.

It makes you want to trust them. Makes you want to lay it all out and beg them to help you. Makes you want to close your eyes and leap, praying they’ll catch you.

It’s wicked. It’s dangerous. It’s a fool’s errand.

It’s unfair.

“No.” You whisper. You can’t look at him, and time slows in the silence, your anxiety piquing. Of course, he would assume something is wrong, after witnessing the panic attack. Don’t read too far into it.

“But you wouldn’t tell me if you were, would you?” He’s pragmatic, yet still kind, watching you with intent. It doesn’t allay any of the stress that’s building up the back of your throat and closing it, cutting you off from the oxygen you desperately need.

After an eon, he sighs.

“Okay, sweetheart. You can keep your secrets. For now.” You choke.

“I… I should probably-“ you jerk your head towards the door, half turning away to swipe your keycard.

“Alright.” He moves carefully, dipping low, and you stand immobilized, confused and quivering as his cloth covered mouth presses a slow kiss to the top of your head. It’s like he’s bewitched you, cursed you, and you can’t do anything but stand there, stunned. “Thanks for coming tonight.” You’re a deer in headlights, a rabbit in a scope.

“Simon.” His name is the only thing you know right now, and it comes out reedy, almost a squeak.

“Get some rest. We’ll text you tomorrow.” He pushes the door wide, arm snaked behind your shoulders, and when you don’t move, he urges you forward, an encouraging hand on the small of your back. Your feet blindly stumble through the motions, searching for the light switch, for your sanity. “Goodnight, bun.” He hums, and the door clicks shut, leaving you alone, staring at the beige-yellow paint on the wall.

The afternoon trains are packed. It makes your skin crawl, not because you dislike busy or hectic places, but because there are too many eyes. You force your head to stay up, casually scrolling past the faces that are turned every which way, keeping your back to a corner or window as often as possible. You’re not sure you even needed to take this route, the one where you loop around and change trains twice, but… old habits die hard.

You’re lighter today, mentally. It’s in your steps on the stairs, the way you tilt your face up to the sun, how you bounce and bob a little along to the rhythm in your headphones.

You try not to read into it, too much. You tell yourself it has nothing to do with the good morning text messages from Johnny and Simon, or the hilarious back and forth between them after Simon sent a god-awful joke to the group chat. It has nothing to do with the heat that spreads through your fingers to toes when you think about Simon last night, kissing your forehead.

You slip inside your apartment, popping your headphones free, glancing at the tape and the door jam, before setting your bag on the counter. You idly sort through some mail you left out the other day. Junk, junk, junk, nothing taxing or important, nothing work related or-

A shadow moves. It flickers against the wall by your bedroom, growing larger, stalking closer to the kitchen, to where you stand, frozen, heart pounding in your ears.

This can’t be real. This can’t be happening.

“Hey there, sugar.” He croons, the thick, Texas accent unmistakable, and you breathe his name in horror.

“Phillip.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader x ghost #simon riley #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x reader

1K notes · View notes

mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 3 months

Text

Too Many Beds

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

summary: you want nothing more than an excuse to sleep next to dean again

pairing: (pre-s1/s1) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none really, language, bed sharing, kissing, mutual pining, idiots in love, brief mention of the death of reader’s dad

timeline: starts slightly before season one, ends near the beginning of season one

author’s note: a spin on the classic 'just one bed, what ever shall we do?' trope lol

You’d known Dean all your life, practically. You met him when you were six and he was eight; two lonely little kids stuck with absent (job-driven) fathers and baby brothers you felt responsible for. Over the course of the last eighteen-or-so years you ran into the Winchesters during hunts enough that you considered them family.

When Sam left for college you were there for Dean and when you lost your dad in a hunting accident Dean was there for you. He actually stayed with you, not wanting you to hunt alone since your brother was off at college too.

So, for the last six months you’d been hunting with Dean (who hadn’t spoken to Sam for over a year).

“One room, two queens,” Dean said to the woman behind the counter, placing “his” credit card on the space between them before sliding it toward her.

“We’re all booked up I’m afraid,” she said.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I was actually about to turn on the no vacancy sign.”

“This is the third motel we’ve been to,” you said, “every one of them has been full—you’ve gotta have something!”

“I mean, there’s technically one room left but the heater’s out and my boss said not to let anyone sleep there because of that.”

There was a silent pause; you and Dean shared a knowing look.

“We’ll pay in cash, your boss ‘ll never know,” you told the woman. She smiled and nodded as you paid her with cash.

“Room 209, my boss gets here at ten tomorrow morning so please leave before then.” She handed you the key and you nodded in thanks.

You had underestimated just how cold the room could be, but when you unlocked and opened the door you understood why the owner didn’t want anyone staying here.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mumbled, following you into the room and feeling the cold air. “We’re gonna freeze our asses off in here!” he quickly closed the door behind him, hoping the icy air hadn’t swept any snow into the room.

“It’s either this or we sleep in the Impala,” you shrugged, “and, no offense to your car, but it’s fuckin’ uncomfortable to sleep in.”

“And there’s only one bed,” Dean sighed.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” you told him, ignoring his complaints.

“Are you shivering or crying?” Dean asked.

You rolled over so you could meet his stare; “Shivering! It’s fuckin’ cold in here!”

“You wanna…cuddle up, maybe?” he asked hesitantly.

“Excuse me?” you laughed a little.

“Look, I’m not thrilled about it either, but it’s cold in here and unless we both wanna catch fucking pneumonia we better be smart and share body heat.”

You sighed, weighing your options; “Fine. But we never, and I mean never speak of this again, you hear me?”

“Understood.” He nodded.

You rolled back over as he scooted closer to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest.

“This okay?” he asked quietly, his lips ghosting the back of your head.

“Yeah,” you mumbled back. “Thank you, Dean.”

You woke up to the sound of Dean snoring loudly. You were used to his snores, sure, but he’d never been this close. He was laying on his stomach and resting on your chest; his mouth open and his hair tickling your neck. Your first reaction was annoyance but then it quickly washed away as you realized you didn’t want to move a muscle, so Dean could continue sleeping.

And the more you laid there, listening to his snores, the more you realized how comfortable you were…even in such a physically uncomfortable situation.

As the time passed and the sun began to rise, you cursed the light that was slowly but surely peeking through the curtain and onto Dean’s face.

“Morning,” he mumbled to you as he lifted his head up. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his right hand before wiping his mouth. “Sorry,” he chuckled, noticing the small spot on your gray sweater dampened with his drool.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled back. “I think it’s your sweater anyway.”

“I thought it looked familiar.”

He rolled off of you and out of bed.

You watched as he padded across the dirty carpet and over to the small kitchen. He turned on the coffee maker and the loud, off putting grinding noise made his face scrunch before he quickly shut off the (definitely broken) machine.

“So much for coffee,” he grumbled. “You gonna sit there all morning or you wanna get outta here? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

“I’m getting up,” you replied. You would usually be annoyed at him for rushing you to wake up, but this time the annoyance was…different. Something about his bedhead, the way his lips were pouting over the lack of caffeine, and how he looked in his brown Henley and baggy sweats just made you wanna hold him again. All you wanted was to pull him back into bed with you and hold him in your arms forever.

You were beyond frustrated at this point. How many stupid fucking hotels had to have vacant rooms with two beds and a functional heating system!?

It had been nearly six months since you and Dean shared a bed and you had been looking for an excuse to sleep next to him ever since.

But the last couple weeks had been different—Sammy was back. Yes, you loved Sam like a brother, but you missed getting to be alone with Dean. You missed sitting shotgun in the Impala and watching him drive.

Sam definitely noticed the way you looked at Dean, but the younger Winchester didn’t say a word. Without being too obvious about it, he tried to do little things that would let you be close to his brother. He’d sit in a certain chair or part of the couch so that you and Dean had no choice but to sit together. Or he’d make some lame excuse so that he got his own room while you and Dean had to share. “I need to do some more research and I need the light, why don’t you two just sleep in the other room?” for example.

“Two rooms, please,” Dean said, reaching into his coat pocket for his wallet.

“Unfortunately we’ve only got one room left,” the cashier replied.

You almost couldn’t believe your ears, fucking finally!

“Oh, that’s too bad,” you faked your best frustrated look, of course Sam saw right through that.

“Well, I am not sharing with either or you,” he said with a teasing smile.

“There’s actually a pullout couch in that room, as luck would have it,” the cashier informed the three of you.

God fucking damn it, you thought to yourself.

It was barely after two when you felt the bed behind you dip, and you shook yourself awake.

“The hell?” you asked, still half asleep.

“The pullout couch isn’t working,” Dean mumbled quietly. “You mind sharing with me?”

You smiled a little and scooted closer into his arms, indicating you were okay with him sleeping next to you.

“Of course I don’t mind sharing with you,” you whispered and his grip tightened.

“I’m gonna go get breakfast,” Sam announced. “I’m assuming you want your usual?”

Dean put his right pointer finger to his lips and furrowed his brows angrily. He gestured to you as you slept and Sam got the message.

“Usual is good,” Dean whispered before Sam left.

Dean stayed laying perfectly still as you slept on his chest, soft snores escaping your lips and to Dean they were the sweetest sound.

As you stirred awake slowly, he rubbed your back a little.

“Morning,” you mumbled, a small smile on your lips. “Where’s Sam?”

“He went to grab breakfast,” Dean told you.

You furrowed your brows as you sat up, looked across the room, and realized something; “The pullout bed looks fine? I thought you said it wasn’t working?” You turned back to Dean, who had a sheepish grin growing on his lips.

“So…maybe I’ve just been looking for an excuse to sleep next to you again. Like we did back in that motel when the heat was out.”

“Really?” You attempted to hide the smile trying to find its way onto your face.

“When we were checking in last night I noticed how your face lit up when they said there was only one room left,” Dean admitted. “And I saw that disappointed look you made when they said there was a pullout couch. So, am I wrong, or have you been wanting an excuse too?”

“I really liked sleeping next to you that night,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “And you’re right, I have been hoping for another ‘oh no just one bed, guess we’ll have to share’ situation but…”

“But what?” Dean asked when you trailed off. You looked down at him.

“Dean, you and Sam have been like my brothers for as long as I can remember. I mean, Bobby practically raised all three of us and my actual brother as siblings! Your dad and my dad knew each other basically forever and I guess…I guess I figured our lives are too entangled for anything to ever actually happen between us. We’re family.”

“Chosen family, Y/n.” Dean smiled softly. “Doesn’t mean you have to be my chosen sister, you could be my chosen…you know…”

You leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his full lips.

“That,” Dean finished his previous statement.

“Let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?” you suggested. “If Sam finds out, then your dad will find out, and he’ll immediately tell my brother, then before we know it Bobby—”

“I get the picture, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled before kissing you again. He put his hands on your cheeks as he sat up. He pulled you onto his lap, your legs now straddling his hips. His hands moved to your shoulders then trailed down to your lower back as yours went into his hair. You pulled away from him after a moment, huge smiles on both your faces.

You looked into his eyes, his truly beautiful eyes, and you bit your bottom lip ever so slightly. Your right hand rested on his left cheek, your thumb stroking his skin lovingly.

“You’re awesome, Dean Winchester,” you whispered.

“You’re fuckin’ incredible,” he replied before he kissed you again. “And gorgeous, too,” he added. “You know how fuckin’ annoying it’s been, sleeping without you every night since that one time?”

“I do know, Dean, I’ve been just as annoyed about it.”

Dean kissed you one more time before he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, tucking his head into your neck. You wrapped your arms around him too, pressing your lips to his temple.

You pulled out of the hug so you could once again look at his face. Resting your forehead on his, you smiled before you kissed him again.

“Breakfast,” Sam called out as he opened the door, “is served!”

You and Dean froze for a split second before you hurried off of him.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Sam said, “did I interrupt you two?”

“What?” you scoffed. “Of course not!”

“Interrupt? There’s nothing to interrupt?” Dean added.

“Oh…wow you two are fast,” Sam mumbled, shaking his head as he made his way to the kitchen before putting the food down. “Well, pancakes, eggs, and bacon from the continental breakfast.” He gestured to the food now on the table. “Hope you’re hungry.”

As Sam sat down to eat, you looked at Dean anxiously. Say something you begged him with your eyes.

“Sammy,” Dean started as he got out of bed, “would you mind uh…not telling dad? About me and Y/n…kissing just now? When we find him, I mean.”

“Dad’s never really been invested in your love life, but he’s not an idiot,” Sam laughed.

“So…you are gonna tell him?” Dean furrowed his brows in frustration.

“Dean, he knows you two are together, it’s not some big secret?” Sam replied, shoveling more food into his mouth. “Damn that’s good.”

“Okay, just hold on—what?” Dean asked. “What do you mean dad knows? There’s been nothing to know since like four minutes ago?”

“Wait,” Sam stopped eating and fully turned to face you and his brother, “are you trying to tell me this is the first time you two have kissed?” Sam furrowed his brows deeply as you and Dean both nodded. “So…never in high school?” You shook your heads again. “That prom we crashed?”

“Sam you were there the whole time? When would we have kissed?” you asked.

“Huh,” Sam let out a laugh. “I genuinely thought you two had been a thing since like… ‘98.”

“What!?” you and Dean exclaimed in unison.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #dean x reader #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

2K notes · View notes

aethelwyneleigh27 · 3 months

Text

Baby fever Scenarios and Headcanons with Husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley (Ghostie)

Thank my baby godson for this one, if it hadn't been for him having me take care of him for the whole day then I wouldn't have anything to write because as of now I have no motivation or ideas to continue my past wips. Render credits are all to the lovely @ave661 who keeps feeding us. My little godson still sleeping on my chest, drool, snore and all as I'm writing this. I can't move, please send help. This is so short too, sorry to disappoint you guys 😭

Y'all CANNOT tell me I'm the only one who thinks of Simon "Ghost" Riley having baby fever from his own children (I would give him more, all he needs to do is ask 😭). Also these are basically moments of Simon with Ghostie, just a bit more general in terms of the baby's gender since some of y'all want boy!dad Simon but originally Ghostie is a girl.

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thesnowurzikdjinn @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @trepaika @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who loves to toss the baby up in the air, simply just for amusement and both of them needed entertainment. Safe to say Soap never did that until the little one was a lot older because when he did it, he ended up with a glob of drool on his face.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who is always so vocal with his baby, you could just tell the influence of him talking to the baby. Just the rumble of his voice sends the tiny one into a fit of giggles while they're on his chest.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who was influenced by you to do that viral thing on the internet, people throwing a slice of cheese on their crying baby to make them stop. It worked and they ate it.. now he keeps the fridge stocked with sliced cheese for that reason.

❥ Babyfever!Husband!Simon who was determined to assemble everything, baby's crib, the car seat.. though the bottle sterilizer was something he needed your help with. Both of you trying to figure where the missing piece went only to find your little one chewing on it.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who comes home late at night yet his little one follows him like a mother duck, as much as he wants to, Simon refused to have contact until he's out and squeaky clean from a shower. Always worrying about how they might catch something from outside while the little one is directly outside the bathroom door waiting for their dad and peeking from the little space underneath the door, knocking every 3 minutes for dada to come out.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who has the time of his life teaching the baby CPR, it started as a joke between the 141 and now your baby knows the word and knows what to do in response to it, the bunny stuffie is the one receiving the medical attention with the little crisp giggle after Simon praises them.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who you find laughing his ass off at Soap who was forced by the puppy eyes of your little one to wear a pink tutu that was on the verge of breaking from his size, glittered fairy wings that were made of wire and horrid quality of pink mesh fabric, a plastic tiara and a light up fairy wand. They forced him to do ballet. (Gaz definitely had that as his phone's wallpaper for a month)

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who love cherishing little moments of how the world reminds him of how naive, dumb and gullible his little one could be. Having a leash kid yet for a completely different reason from misbehaving and being too hyperactive. Walking on a bridge with him over a river as a little family outing at the park when your little one pointed at the aggressive stream of water underneath, Simon jokingly asking them if they want to be tossed in and without a word they turn to you with their arms up and wiggling for uppies. When that didn't work they turned to their dad doing the same thing, making Simon chuckle so much that he almost coughed as they slowly let their arms drape back down to their sides, little pout in disappointment. You playfully glared at your husband, having to explain to a toddler why they can't swim in a strong stream of dirty water.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who is very much amused about how the baby likes his stuble, hoping he won't cause a rash to them because of how much they press their face into his. He makes sure it's extremely well kept after the very first time it happened 😭.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who loves seeing his toddler in their sleep shirt which is basically just his shirt drooping on the floor because it's too big for them but the they're chunky enough to keep it on themselves. Just thinking of Simon hearing the loud stomps of footsteps approving their bedroom, the short pause of silence before the frantic sound of the door knob jingling, he always knew who was about to enter the room. Holding their bunny stuffie while pulling on the blanket of their dad's side of the bed to ask him for help to climb up.

1K notes · View notes

ave661 · 5 months

Note

Hiiiiiii 👋😙

With all the lovely dad!Ghost renders you graced us with, can i ask if you have any headcanons for them? Can never get enough of Ghost having a family he never got to have as a kid. I just wanna hug him frfr okay I'm done babbling 😭🫶🫶🤍

Helloooo! ♥ Ok, so this is interesting ask! Some of my renders are random, but some have a story

Simon forgot to take off his balaclava. Child saw it on him and by the time he realized, it was already too late. He expected baby to cry, be afraid of him and not recognize their dad, but when they didn't and even got interested, he got emotional. Maybe he realized that Ghost wasn't just a soldier and even he became a father - not just Simon.

He wanted to introduce his baby to "Ghost". Wants little one not to be afraid of him and to know what their father does for a living

I imagine him as a dad who likes to chill with his kid in living room. Maybe he turns something on TV and waits for them to fall asleep, and when they do, he closes his eyes for a moment and eventually they both end up snoring

Riley's first introduction to his baby. Simon was afraid of dog's reaction, but baby wanted to give Riley a toy. They definitely liked each other and became friends.

These are either before or after mission - last hug or a warm hello. Maybe his partner wanted to surprise him and came to the base with their baby to welcome him?

Now some of my random dad!Ghost canons! >.<

10000000000% girl dad

he certainly never planned to have children, due to his own traumas and dangerous job, so having them was by an accident for sure.

feeling first kick, seeing a baby bump or ultrasound made something "click" in him

once he becomes a father, he is overprotective and wants to provide child with a safe and calm environment, which he never had

delicate and distant at the beginning. He doesn't think he deserves a family, and if he does have one, he's afraid of losing it.

he is action and giving type of person. A new swing in the garden? Installed in a few hours. Repair a broken toy or paint walls in new color? Done. Take baby to the doctor? You can count on him at any time. This is his love language.

grumpy type with a dad humor. Always has a lame joke up his sleeve

at the same time, as the child grows up, he also learns what it means to show love for them as a father. So only with time he starts to feel comfortable hugging his baby, playing with them, etc.

once he gets it, oh boy, he throws this kid all over the place while playing. Yes, he is the type of father who throws his child on the mattress and pretends to play WWE

have you seen this photo of Chris Hemsworth where he holds his kid by leg on a beach? Yes, this is Simon

or wraps them up like a burrito in a blanket and watch them struggle with smile on his face. The best way to tire them out, so it's a win for everyone if they fall asleep faster!

but he also likes to watch cartoons with them and cuddle (falls asleep after a few minutes)

he does THIS a lot

his kid/s definitely color his tattoos. And no, he doesn't wash them off. He's very proud of them. Definitely shows them to Soap.

seeing blood during a mission in his life was nothing compared to changing baby's diaper. Avoids it like the plague.

definitely did a fake tea party once. Little plastic chair broke under his weight.

has a lot of vids and pics on his phone of every possible situation of what his child is doing - sleeps, eats, talks, plays, smiles.... Once in a while shows them to 141

but he definitely likes photos where baby is sleeping the most. Because then he sees their calm expression and it gives him a sense of peace and fulfillment

#simon ghost riley #dad!ghost #dw I still have a few ideas for dad!ghost renders up my sleeve :*

984 notes · View notes

konigsblog · 8 months

Text

DOMESTIC CALL OF DUTY HEADCANNONS

trigger warnings: fluff, a lot of it.

– how i view each 141 character's time on leave. what they're up to, hobbies, issues...

photo credit @yumethefrostypanda

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

workaholic. spends a lot of time working on reports and going through any important files and updating them. you literally cannot drag him out his seat, he'll refuse. he'll be grumpy all day if you manage to get him out his office. appreciates when you bring him cheese and crackers, or just any type of snack he enjoys as he's too busy to go downstairs and get something himself.

tv shows, and watching them till the sun rises. it's a pattern that's accidental. “jus' one more.” you both agree, managing to get through an entire season, exhausted. sometimes you'll look over at simon and see him already asleep, snoring softly with his arm hung loosely around your waist.

takeaways often. usually, simon will eat some food he doesn't eat whilst on deployment. such as chinese takeaway, a chippy or indian food. sitting down on the couch with your plates rested on your lap and a the tv on. he'll be eating healthy and exercising like crazy (not overexercising, but enough for a SAS soldier) before he goes back on deployment.

JOHNNY ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

going out to bars. he loves to grab a drink with you, in a somewhat busy area. he enjoys distant chatter and sounds as it fills the silence between you two. definitely coming home tipsy and nearly falling into a plant pot. (he did, he just didn't want to admit it the next morning)

always watching the football. you'd busy cleaning, getting jumpscared every few minutes by a loud yell. i bet he begs you to watch with him, seeing you all confused as you attempt to understand. probably cuddling on the couch and watching whatever on his phone afterwards.

waking up super late. he adores late mornings, adores waking up at 11am, your body pressed into his, spooning you and holding you close to his chest while enjoying eachothers warmth.

CAPTAIN JOHN ‘PRICE’

getting jumpscared by his loud ass sneezes. literally will cause you to jump out your skin and drop your phone, giving him a dirty glare before going back to your phone.

fishing. no matter how boring you say it is, you'll always come with him as you don't get to see him often and wish to appreciate every moment together. gets so happy when he catches a big fish, he's like a proud dad.

loud ass snoring... it's deep and loud, you'll have to either pinch his nose or kick him in the leg and pray that you fall asleep before he does. but that rarely happens as he's a deep sleeper. wakes up at random times and spoons you so his snoring is directly beside your ear.

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK

showering together. he can't help himself, he just has to join you. runs the soap down your back, massaging your shoulders whilst you giggle and squirm away from him. he fell over.

his chin resting apon your head whilst you brush your teeth together, probably managed to get toothpaste in your hair much to your demise. hearing him gag whenever he tries to brush his tongue, retching and tearing up.

playing video games together. he says he'll go easy on you but actually gets offended when you win. probably refuses to admit he lost when he isn't giving you an advantage, denying everything whilst you giggle and accuse him repetitively.

1K notes · View notes

teamblck · 2 months

Text

the 141 as dads

captain john price-

• this man is would be such a good dad

• we all know for a fact this man has a breeding kink so i see him having like 3/4 kids

• waking up early in the morning and eating bowls of cereal watching old cartoon re runs with them

• would start smoking outside or exclusively in his office because he doesn’t want that around them

• type of dad in his retirement to coach his kids football/soccer team

• the best for laying the child on his chest, humming as they fall asleep

• would be super interested in what his children’s interest are (this goes for all of them but i’m putting it here)

• takes his kids on camping and fishings trips

• loves to play hide-n-seek with his kids

• his kids would mock his actions and stand in front of the tv with his hands behind his back, and when they are napping on the couch his kid would also start snoring cause we all know this man snores LOUDLY

• type of dad whenever his kids mention they like eating something once he buys like 5 boxes of it

• would cry they say their first word no matter what is is

• loves taking them to the park

kyle ‘gaz’ garrick-

• okay literally the best dad ever

• i could see him with like 2 or 3 kids

• MATCHING OUTFITS

• if he had girls he would 1000% learn all kind of cute braid styles for them

• when he found out his spouse was pregnant he would be shocked but happy and would immediately buy 100 what to expect when you’re expecting books

• would hate when he kids got into trouble cause he would hate laying the law down but would sit them down and talk every calm but firm

• then would go into another room and be like 🥺

• would NEVER get angry with his kids

• all the mothers would flirt with him in the pickup line at school and he just ignores it

• he thinks his children deserve the entire world

• his kids call Price grandpa

• will blow raspberries on their stomachs until they they can’t stop giggling

• takes 1000 photos of his kids doing anything and then spam sends them to his spouse

• got so nauseous the first time he changed a diaper

• family halloween outfits

john ‘soap’ mactavish-

• such a fun dad

•pillow forts

• ice cream for breakfast

• if he had a son/sons he would cut their hair in the mohawk style as well

• would want so many children omg

• he comes from a big family so i think he would want one as well

• but if his spouse didn’t want a big family he would be okay with it

• if you’ve watched modern family he would be like phil dunphy

• would put his kids on those kid leashes whenever they go anywhere

• i feel like one thing he would struggle with is saying no to his children

• would always help them with their math and science homework

• type of dad to do push ups while his kids are sitting in his back and they are all giggling

• the proudest dad ever! is at every dance recital or sports game or talent show and if he can’t be (because of his job) he would ask all about it when he got home and even if they did poorly he would still tell them how proud of them he is and go her ice cream

•TICKLE FIGHTS

• it would also tear him up if couldn’t be there during a special event for his children

• i also feel like he would cry at major life milestones

• if his children/kid are into sports all you can hear at games is him yelling across the field

simon ‘ghost’ riley-

• GIRL DAD SIMON GIRL DAD SIMON GIRL DAD SIMON

• just imagine him with a pink baby holder strapped to his chest

• he would be such a good father omg

• with his past with his father he would be super scared at first but then as he’s holding this tiny infant he would get angry (not at child obviously) cause how could anyone treat their child the way his father treated him?

• would be super protective of his children (i mean all of them would tbh)

• as cute as it is for the baby to wear little skull head clothing, i don’t think he would want his children knowing ‘Ghost’.

• i think one thing he would struggle with is when his kids throw tantrums when it’s over something ridiculous like he wouldn’t let them pull their siblings hair or eat something gross off the floor and he doesn’t know how to deal with them. he doesn’t want to get to firm and scare them and he doesn’t want to give into such ridiculous things so he would kinda back away and look at you for help

• his kids would 1000% get his accent

• loves to lift them up with his arms, whooshing them around like they are a super hero

• has tea parties with his kids and their stuffed animals on a regular basis

• such a big softie for his children/child are you kidding me

• his children/kid use him as like a jungle gym and are usually hanging off his arms

• would never tell them what he does for work and when they ask he would just say ‘work’

i would give any of these men children or all of them

let me know if you have any feedback!!

731 notes · View notes

pixiesndberries · 9 months

Text

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄 141 — 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

CONTENTS : calling them while being drunk at 3:00 am.

CHARACTERS : captain price, soap, ghost, and gaz.

WARNING : none just on crack lmaoaoa 😭

AUTHOR'S NOTE : i need to think about this million times, and it took me million times to have a motivation also (i do nsfw..for the one who wanted to request *wink* *wink*) 😇

JOHN PRICE :

— lad is sleeping peacefully after a long rest after a tough mission, his nokia went ringing like hell and literally thought the fire alarm went BRAHHH. Old man was flabbergasted and looks like having an heart attack at 3:00 am.

DAD MODE 100 % he would actually think about it for a moment whether he would pick you up or not because he's unsure what things about to happen. Would be worried for a moment since your friends took over in the phone to help you make him pick you up.

WOULD 100 % NAG AT YOU IN THE CAR. I SAID WHAT I SAID 🗣️‼️ and it made the whole ride like this.

;

"price i think i will puke the cheerios i ate." you laugh with little hiccups while he was driving stressed while wearing his pajamas on. "hey hey, dont ya' fookin' open that damn window!" he says pulling you away while driving with one hand literally jamming in the whole rode as tokyo drift plays in the car radio.

SOAP :

— i feel like he's either the one calling you or he is with you 😭 ok but like let's stick with this scenario with him. He was having a nice sleep of course, and ik he snores like this IM SORRY LMAO and his phone started ringing like hell and he went crazy thinking it was the fire alarm.

he would pretend to act like he hates you for not inviting him to drink with you as he was getting ready to leave to pick you up; he's trying to stay in contact with you because first of all you are heavily drunk and just very very late so it's not THAT safe for you so he tried his best to keep in contact with you until he arrives.

He almost crash the car tbh and he almost hit a deer 😇.

;

"really not invitin' me? i feel offended." he chuckles teasing your drunk ass, "it's not like that!" you whine nudging him thinking he's actually mad at you. "do you hate me?" you asked looking at him like you were about to cry or something, "yes." "fuck you." "nope you're drunk." (the whole ride is just on crack tbh)

GHOST :

— MY MAN IS TRYING TO HAVE A REST ONCE FOR HIS LIFE 😭 (please let this man have a vacay) yet you were there, just as he feels like he's sleeping (ik damn that felt good for him) when suddenly HIS PHONE STARTED TO RING. Bro was ready to pull the trigger, but he took a deep breath; at first he never wanted to answer the phone but when he saw those messages that was typed by your friends saying that you need a ride home because you are heavily drunk. Okay for a moment he think about it he was like, if i pick this motherfucker up is there a benefit? okay what if something happens to them then it's my fault?

WHEN HE PICKED YOU UP HE HAS HIS BALACLAVA ON AND YOU WERE SO DRUNK THAT YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE GETTING KIDNAPPED 😭‼️ and you were like asking for help and shit and he's just there continues to drive wishing he just made a better decision to burn his phone down. seriously.

after like a whole ass minute you finally shut up and just watch him drive silently 😞 and of course he was like "finally."

;

you were watching him drive silently when the car suddenly passed by your favourite fast food chain making you quickly go feral like hell, "I WANT A BITE PLEASE." you say as you keep pulling his shirt trying to make him stop driving, "no." he says as he just continues to drive tiredly, MAN WAS SO DONE. "please mr kidnapper 😭" "lord help me."

GAZ :

— like soap he was sleeping peacefully and snores like mimimimimi 😇💕 when you called and says that you needed a ride home because you were drunk (you tried insisting that you are not THAT drunk 😭) bro was worried so he was like okay sure so he didn't hesitate but to pick you up even though he still felt sleepy. He really cares for you so he really don't mind.

when he picked you up he helped you going inside the car, putting the car seat on a comfortable position; YOU ARE TREATED LIKE A ROYAL 🗣️‼️ You were mumbling and talking about some topics he doesn't know but continues to listen because he knows you are heavily drunk and you barely know what's happening.

HE'S THE TYPE OF GUY YOUR PARENTS WOULD TRUST FR ‼️

;

"-and and this guy came up on me and like hey shawty you need some good dicking there? And i was like fuck you dude!" you continue to babble even though it looks like you were already getting pulled by your sleep making Gaz laugh, "hey that's actually creepy thank god you went away from him." he says calmly as he continues to drive, "yeah yeah- and- and-"

─ REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED. FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!

684 notes · View notes

inncubus-honey · 3 months

Text

s/o with a snort laugh- cod

as someone with a snort laugh, there are times where I'm insecure about it, but the other half is I don't care and im just living with it. so here's to all people with snort laughs!

price:

its like a gift from heaven itself; its johns favorite quirk of yours. he loves hearing it from the common room as you snort with breathy laughs because of simons dry dad jokes. or from soap shouting, gibberish at gaz hiding his chipped, pink mug that he uses daily for coffee.

after a long mission in the heil, johns chest builds up with warmth at the sound of you giving small snorts as gaz snored on simons shoulder with soap snoring on his other shoulder. you could tell by simons eyes that he was scowling underneath his mask.

———

price found comfort in the dorkiness of your laugh while at times, you had said you hated your laugh. but it reminded him of everything human outside of war, death and everything y’all see on the battlefield. its so you to him and he wouldnt have it any other way.

gaz:

hes the kind of guy to make you laugh harder in order for your snorts to continue. he’ll look up the all classic, cheesy pickup lines in order to start a laughing fit for you. he takes a minute to watch you with the biggest warm, chocolate brown eyes as you covered your mouth to cover up the smalls sounds that left your lips. just searing your laugh and little snorts to memory as you grab your stomach to catch your breath.

———

gaz has a recording of you laughing at a stupid dad joke of his during a dinner date at your apartment. he plugs in earbuds and plays the video whenever hes really missing you or he has a moment alone. gaz has fallen asleep to that recording more times he could possibly count during deployments; its his comfort in the chaos of military work.

ghost:

his eyes are already always trained on you ever since yall got together. at the barracks, on the heli before the drop off point, at all points on the mission, at a bar after a mission; simons eyes are watching you at every moment. whenever he cracks a stupid dad joke after a mission at the bar, your snorts carries its way to his ears and he feels all tension leave his body. copper eyes softened as he watched your body shake as gaz groaned in the background while soap smirked after telling a dad joke. he felt complete whenever he heard your laugh, like everything connected in place in his mind.

———

simon held your warmer body close to his as yall laid under the covers in your shared apartment. watching your slowly stirring figure, a small smile tugged at his lips when your eyes finally opened and met his. upon seeing simon watching you, a small snort left you as embarrassment flushed your face. simon joined you underneath which caused more snorts to leave your lips as he nuzzled into your face.

soap:

your snorts make him snort whenever you laugh ever. yall hold on each other as you both keep letting out little snorts which yall both laugh harder and the cycle continues. all he has to do is say one word for y'all to keep laughing and snorts escaping in your wheezy laughter. as soap took a deep breath and baby blue eyes traveled over to you, his breath caught in his throat as he saw how angelic you looked as cute sounds escaped your lips.

———

he brought your lips upon his as the only thing he could think about was feeling you against him. you’re too beautiful not to kiss in the moment, soap thinks to himself as you relaxed into the kiss. you had been surprised when he pulled you into it earlier. but you wrap your arms around his neck with his hand tangled into your hair as harsh breaths left his nose. soap could only hope and pray to whatever god was listening that he can keep you in his arms forever, that you find comfort in them forever and whenever you need it.

keegan:

he swears he hates the sound of your snorts whenever he walks by the common room to see you laughing with logan and ajax on the couch. but the minute he's in his room, alone, its the only thing playing on repeat in his mind. sometimes he wishes he could wake up to that sound; that he could turn over in bed and see you laying with him as you giggle at something on your phone.

———

quietly keegan approached you as he was getting ready to take his turn for the night watch. logan and ajax were sleeping for their turn. walking up to where you sat on the watchtower, your rifle sat on your lap as you watched carefully, he sat down next to you and watched as you. just in your element of being on the mission…you being you which caused keegan to have those same flustered feelings from before to shoot throughout his chest. keegan thought of a joke that ajax told him earlier and decided to try it out on you.

upon telling you the joke, small snorts left your lips as you tried to cover your mouth so as not to give yourselves away. keegan gives small laughs at the sound of your laughing, soon dying in his chest when the clouds parted in the sky to reveal moonlight down onto you. your figure was graced with shining light as your snorts soon died down as well; keegan saw everything with you from such a lovely sound.

alex:

knowing this man, he would be a mix of price and soap. where he would bask in the warm feeling your laugh provides for him while on the other hand he would keep telling you jokes to keep hearing your snorts. alex would have a smirk upon his face as he just calmly told you jokes and your snorts continued leaving your lips, lovelying watching you as you covered your mouth with your hand. anytime someone tries to say something about your snorts, alex calmly brings them into another room and threatens them within an inch of their life.

———

not so gently alex harshly grasped the recruits arm as he dragged them into an empty spot near the mess hall. throw them inside, alex marched up close to the and bore into their soul. he told them that he ever them or anyone call your cute snorts, ‘a pig laugh’, he wouldn't hesitate to have them run 100 laps outside or clean the armory top to bottom. alex felt fire in his veins after the recruit made the comment and made your face crumple as you covered your laugh with his hand. scared for their life, the recruit nodded and spat out how they wouldnt do it again to which alex sent out of the room.

when alex made his way back to you and saw how dejected you look, he immediately scooped you up and brought you to his room. he spent the rest of the afternoon telling you how cute and heart-warming your laugh made him feel or how he always brags to the boys about how beautiful you look whenever you have a laughing fit.

#cod mw2 x reader #gn reader #captain price x reader #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #keegan russ x reader #alex keller x reader

199 notes · View notes

mistydeyes · 9 months

Text

a collection of random late night thoughts from a high reader

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: After another successful mission in Amsterdam, you enjoy the trip a little too much and won’t stop texting your team.

pairing: 141, laswell, konig x platonic!reader

warnings: swearing, implied drug use

a/n: haha enjoy this light hearted shit post

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

As you said goodnight to Price and Gaz following a beautifully executed mission in Amsterdam, you pulled out a small baggie of goodies you had gotten that day. You perched the window open and lit your joint as you admired the quiet ambiance of the safe house. Amsterdam sure has the good shit as you finished and grabbed your phone, ready to spew all of your high thoughts.

r/n: Lt. why did you think it was a good idea to get an angsty teen's drawing on your arm?

ghost: captain, i thought you said you didn't let them get anything while in amsterdam

r/n: shhh don't tell dad i bought drugs

price: just let them live, Lieutenant, at least you're not in the same house as them

r/n: who do you think would be taller? gaz on ghost‘s or soap on konig’s shoulders?

ghost: no one respond, don’t patronize them

konig: logistically, it’s me and soap (*disliked by ghost and gaz*)

r/n: ever since i joined, SAS stands for Sexy Ass Soldiers

price: keep this up and i’ll have you transferred

r/n: only if you want it to go back to Special Air Service

r/n: i assigned you all spirit animals: ghost - black cat, soap - one of those mice they give meth too to see what happens, price - cougar

gaz: what about me?

r/n: a gazelle, idiot, it’s in your name

price: this is how you spend your time in amsterdam?

r/n: when graves betrayed you, you should’ve said “we’re in grave danger”

soap: we should’ve left you in las almas (*emphasized by ghost*)

r/n: okay new field strategy! what if we all put lube on ourselves, then we could never be captured because we would just ~slip away~

ghost: what the actual fuck

r/n: soap just looks like he would comically snore like in cartoons

r/n: this motherfucker lets out a snore followed by mimimimi💤😴

soap: why would you hurt me like that

r/n:

r/n: shepherd is the bootleg version of mr. clean

gaz:…you’re not wrong

r/n: and graves was the walmart version of glen powell

ghost: okay you have a point

r/n: captain what was it like when you got your first tv in color?

price: how old do you think i am?

r/n: i post myself up for adoption, laswell plz adopt me

laswell: please go to sleep, sergent

r/n: only if you and your wife tuck me in <3

r/n: okay poll time! who do you think could kill someone with their thighs?

price, gaz, konig, laswell, and ghost have left the chat

soap: personally, i think it's Lt.

r/n: nah my money is on laswell

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #simon ghost riley #call of duty #kyle gaz garrick #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #141 headcanons #mw2 headcanons #mw2 #johnny soap mactavish #kate laswell #konig modern warfare #izzie is writing

694 notes · View notes

oopsdevil · 6 months

Text

john price edition.

"I don’t ‘develop’ headcanons. They come to me in visions and I know they’re correct."

• this man snores so loud i can't stand him

• also falls asleep watching the tv and gets mad if you wanna turn it off

• "i was watching"

• yes, he wears socks to bed

• he is an AMAZING cook and its literally his love language

• such a selfless man when it comes to his team,, they are his soft spot

• pretends he is the one that can't sleep when gaz has nightmares and is up alone in the kitchen

• pretends he can't remember soap's anecdote so he can tell it again

• pretends he doesn't see simon listening to manchester city games on missions

• speaking of ??? he is so TIRED of the pointless rivalry ghost has with könig

• (yes is canon)

• "no simon, he can't go in a different car"

• this man was born to be dad of teen twins, period

• such a boy dad, goes to his games, brings the kid to base because his uncles misses him, teaches him how to shave, just his partner in crime

• "don't tell mom"

• (also has the whole respecting girls conversation early in life)

• but clearly also such a girl dad. cooks for her, teaches her how to drive and is so PATIENT about it, actually coaches her soccer team

• she is uncle's simon favorite too

• often slipped on the kids toys when they were little and lied to you about it

• "fuck"

•"again?-"

• "no"

#cod hcs #cod mw2 #cod mwii #john price #john price x reader #john price headcanons #cod headcanons #cod x reader #task force 141

374 notes · View notes

pink3princess · 11 months

Text

john wick x reader hc/ramble

cw/tw: um..a little silly, a little goofy, a little fluff, age gap ( reader is 20+, John is in his 40’s), mentions of tattoos, gn!reader

an: I’m in my keanu reeves era; also this gif makes me dizzy🥴😵; anyways enjoy whores

masterlist

first of all heS GENTLE I DONT CARE WHAT ANYONE ELSE SAYS HES MY POOKIE BEAR CUDDLE MUFFIN

oh my god his hugs :(

i just need to lay down on his chest and for him to rub his hand up and down my back reassuringly after a long day >:(

he loves when you scratch his beard like a dog(is this weird lol) he finds it so domestic and intimate

ok so...he’s old, so let’s imagine he stayed out of the crime world… he has such old guy hobbies its so cute (he's beekeeping age yk)

he’s into gardening, he's in a band (bassist duh), he fixes up cars and motorcycles

the first time you noticed his back tattoo was when you two went swimming for the first time together

you didn't want to be a creep, but you had to stop yourself from drooling over it the rest of the day

you actually had to stop yourself from licking him head to toe like a popsicle but

speaking of tattoos, he LOOOOVES when you trace his back tattoo; if he can't sleep and you start to trace the pattern, he just melts

and if you have tattoos, he loves to do the same to you

he'll kind of lull you to sleep like that, taking his time with light kisses in between

on another note...i bet he does the 'dad on a vacation snoring so loud he has shaken then entire room awake' snore

and when you get woken up by said snore you're a little annoyed, but whenever this happens you just move to the guest room

after moving to the guest room and getting settled down, you get woken up ....again, only to see this BIG SCARY 6 FOOT ASSASSIN curled up next to you under the covers, hugging your waist as if you were a stuffed animal he couldn't sleep without :(

and you're like "...i actually came in here to remove myself from you-"

he's creeps around the house very quietly, almost like a ghost (unintentionally)

you could be doing laundry, folding the clothes and when you turn around to put them away, he's just there in the doorway like 🧍‍♂️ scaring the life out of you

once you two move in together, he'll gift you a dog :( like you're own little family :(

assuming that reader is in their 20's and john is in is 40's, how could you possibly pass up any opportunity to make old man jokes about him <3

" you know, in a couple of years i get to put you in the old folks home..."

"yeah right🙄, i'd like to see you try honey"

he takes care of you in every way; he makes sure you take your meds, and that you eat at least three meals a day; small everyday things like that :(

if you fail a big test or have a bad day at work he's waiting for you at home with a tub of icecream and ready to spoil you with affection

even tho he's a man of very little words, he'll know exactly what to say to make you feel better with words of praise and affection :(

#john wick #keanu reeves #john wick fic #john wick hc #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #john wick fluff #john wick 2 #john wick 3 #john wick 4 #keanu reeves fluff #john wick gif #john wick x you #john wick headcanons #not edited #john wick x gn!reader

1K notes · View notes

nerdpoe · 1 year

Text

To Fail and to Succeed

AO3

Graphic depictions of death, descriptions of the sounds and smell of someone dying via electricity, don't read if u can't handle it. Take care of urself.

~~~~~~

Bruce was about to start falling asleep standing up, he could tell.

This couple had just talked nonstop for five hours about something that didn’t exist.

But he needed to act like Brucie, and Brucie needed to cement the fact that he was a frivolous idiot who would back other idiots like these ones.

His mind ached for something substantial to do, and the comm in his ear had long since fallen silent. He could tell that Dick was still there, at least; the snoring gave it away.

His other children had long since gotten bored and, after two hours of impressions and making fun of the Drs Fenton, had wandered off.

“-And that’s why our Portal is a guaranteed way to explore other dimensions!” Maddie cut into his thoughts, startling him to the extent that he had to put conscious effort not to tense up and dodge away from her proximity.

“You also get to skip that annoying airfare!” Jack worthlessly concluded, slapping Bruce on the back.

“Mom, Dad; you’re both on the no-fly list, remember?” Their daughter, Jasmine, the only blessedly normal one, reminded them on her way out the door. Bruce felt the involuntary sigh of relief leave him; they would not be able to legally fly to Gotham.

Thank god for small mercies.

“Oh Jazzie-pants, like that would stop us!”

Did Maddie Fenton just confess to a crime? Did that mean he could report them?

Could Bruce…go home?

“Easy B, just put up with it until after dinner and you get to come back to your usual broody cave. I’ll even ask Alfred to make you cookies.”

Damn. Dick had woken up.

Bruce grimaced and moved so his hidden camera was fully taking in the lab. One last shot before excusing himself.

“Well, this has been a very interesting-”

“Anyways the portal is ready to go now!”

And with very little fanfare, Jack Fenton slammed the power switch down and stood directly in front of the supposed interdimensional portal. Ghost Zone portal. Whatever, anyone who knew anything about dimensions knew what that thing really was.

Bruce tensed and prepared to yank the fool to safety, but…nothing.

Nothing happened.

Bruce could have cried with relief.

These two were far too scatterbrained to put their literal doctorates to use.

He instead opted for putting a hand over his still-rapidly beating heart and letting out a very small, very unnoticeable wheeze.

He’d already been lost to time once, if he had to do it again because of these two mad scientists-because that is definitely what they were and they were going on a watch list after this-he would have…

He…

Well, Bruce wasn’t sure what he would have done.

Waited for his kids or friends to get him out again and then personally apprehend the Fentons, probably.

Jack looked like he was about to cry.

Scratch that, the man was actively tearing up.

Maddie rushed over to comfort him and Bruce used their distraction to get a better look at the portal without all the background noise.

It was…surprisingly well built. There was no cable management, no safety features, and its very purpose was unhinged. Otherwise, a fairly solid build.

The Drs Fenton would definitely be on the watch list for potential villains.

All Bruce needed was for Tim to tell him how best to make sure this monstrosity never worked, but his chronically sleep-deprived son had just fallen asleep, so that would have to be put on hold.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Wayne, but it looks like the Ghost Zone is going to have to wait,” Maddie sighed, looking just as heartbroken over it as her husband, “In the meantime, why don’t we go get some burgers. Cheer ourselves up.”

Bruce nodded along, playing up the sympathetic look and herding the couple upstairs towards the front door.

Halfway to the strange amalgamation they called their car, he stopped.

His Dad Sense, as Jason called it, was going off.

Jack and Maddie were in front of him.

Jasmine was walking down the street to do…something. Possibly library, if he remembered the layout of the city correctly.

Their son, Daniel was…

Quiet.

For all he had been bugging them to see the Portal come online, he had gone upstairs with his friends and they hadn’t heard a peep since.

Now that Bruce was thinking about it, he hadn’t even heard any footsteps running around up there.

That was Not Good.

The only time teenagers were that quiet was if they weren’t in the house to begin with, or if they were planning something they weren’t allowed to do.

Bruce would know.

He’d semi-raised enough teenagers to know.

Daniel and his friends were about to do something Stupid.

And looking at the boy’s parents, they would probably cheer him on.

“Hey, how about I meet you guys at the restaurant,” Brucie said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and laughing, “I just realized I should pick up some documents from the hotel! I’ll grab those and then we can get that funding underway, hey? Your inventions really are out of this world!”

“Of course, Brucie, you take your time!” Jack vigorously shook his hand, almost yanking Bruce’s entire body off the ground.

Was the man a meta?

“We’ll meet you at Nasty Burger!” Maddie called, revving the engine of that…thing.

Bruce stayed out long enough to wave at them as they drove away and ran over multiple streetlights-why did they have drivers licenses-before diving for the front door and rushing in as quickly as he could.

Through the living room, down to the left, onto the basement stairs and-

-no.

Why were teenagers like this!?

“B?”

Daniel Fenton was dressed in only a hazmat suit, one designed for chemical exposure and not anything else, and was walking into the highly electrified metal arch.

“B, get him out of there!”

Bruce was already leaping over the railing, landing on a table and scattering the glassware. Daniel’s friends, Samantha and Tucker, bolted away from him, taking the phone they had been using to record their stupid stunt with them.

He ignored them.

“Daniel James Fenton!” The boy’s name was ripped from his mouth, voice in full Batman mode, before he even had time to think.

Daniel jumped.

Daniel turned around too quickly for his own two feet.

Daniel tripped.

Daniel fell.

Daniel reached out to stabilize himself.

Bruce was two steps away.

Then the world went Green.

Bruce couldn’t hear what Dick was saying as his body soared through the air and landed hard against the opposite wall.

What he could hear was the unending screams of a child being electrified to death.

He shakily pushed himself up, ignoring the pain from the probable concussion, and forced himself to stand.

The air was thick with smoke, and Bruce gagged when the smell hit him.

Pork roast.

Burning plastic.

The sickly-sweet scent of rot.

“-uce! Bruce! Are you okay?! I’m sending-”

Bruce was not okay.

Bruce could not string together a plan, and Daniel was still screaming.

If Daniel could still scream, then it meant that Daniel was still alive.

Bruce didn’t think, for once.

He charged forward, stuck his hands into the Lazarus Green portal, grabbed what he assumed was Daniel, and pulled.

First through the portal were the arms he was clutching, followed by a head of glowing white hair, and, finally, the rest of the boy.

It was Daniel, Bruce was sure. Same body build, same face, just different colors.

It would be fine.

Barry had survived his lab accident, Daniel would too.

He had to keep telling himself it would be fine, or his brain would shove him back to Ethiopia; with the same smells and the same smoke and a different dead child.

~~~~~~

Danny felt himself being yanked out of the pain, through the green, and laid on the floor of his parent’s lab.

He took his time, shivering and twitching as he hyperventilated. Whatever had just happened to him, he didn’t need to come back to himself until absolutely necessary.

He swore he could still feel the electricity burrowing under his skin, crawling up his spine, and-

-He didn’t want to think about that anymore.

Danny just wanted to go to bed.

Or play video games.

Or get a hug.

Danny could really go for a hug.

The shivering was dying down, and the twitching had almost stopped.

One more minute and he was starting to get his breathing under control too.

Opening his eyes, the first thing Danny saw was Mr. Wayne, crouched in front of him, talking to someone Danny couldn’t see, and looking over Danny with glowing, iridescent green eyes.

“Daniel, can you hear me now?”

Danny nodded, not trusting his voice to work.

“Good, hold on; there’s a…very specialized medical team who need to look you over.”

Oh, no.

Danny decided it was time to tell his voice to suck it up.

“Don’t-don’t tell my parents!”

Mr. Wayne paused, staring down at him incredulously.

“Are you joking?”

Wow, Mr. Wayne sounded a lot like Sam when he was pissed.

Time to butter him up.

“No. I’m not. By the way, Mr. Wayne, whoever told you that the uh, white streak was a good look for you definitely deserves a raise! Totally! Also I swear I won’t tell anyone you’re a meta.”

Mr. Wayne froze, staggered up, and turned to look at the mirror next to Sam and Tucker.

They looked horrified, but they’d also just found out one of the richest men in the world’s deepest secret, so Danny couldn’t blame them.

Then Mr. Wayne let out a strangled sound, and Danny knew his attempt to butter the man up had failed.

“No, it’s fine. Dick. Dick, it’s fine. Stop panicking. Please, I can’t…deal. With that. I’ll go for a check up on the way back.”

Also Mr. Wayne had an imaginary friend.

Stupid.

Danny should have complimented the imaginary friend too.

“Danny, dude, what?”

Danny turned to look at Tucker, only to lean away from the tears on his Best Friends face.

“Danny. Danny? Danny, I think you’re dead,” Sam whispered, the closed off look on her face when the world became too much.

“He’s not-”

“No I’m not-”

He paused in time with Mr. Wayne, who suddenly looked very concerned and glanced over at his parent’s stupid project.

Danny thought the concern wasn’t warranted.

“I’m not dead, look, I have a pulse and ev..ery…” Danny frowned, pushing his fingers against his jugular harder.

Nothing.

Hand over chest?

Nothing.

Wait, when was the last time he breathed after the panic attack?

He couldn’t remember.

“...Mr. Wayne,” Danny whispered, staring at the only adult in the room and hoping he could help, “Where’s my pulse?”

@ae-vixrose @treepainting @princessdaisysolosyourfaves @dixiwoods @marionkind @wisperwind22612 @cloudyelysian @dolfay @0nez1 @sweet-mango23 @choppedphantomsweets @thedragonqueen1998 @alinmenttreasure @apointlessbox @spectralstardustandphantomnights @skulld3mort-1fan

700 notes · View notes