#If johnny were in my head i would be rubbing his nose in it every chance i got we would not like eachother

[wetwareparasite]

Is it just me or is it so cathartic when v tears johnny a new one. Idk why but whenever you get the option to just start chewing him out im like YESSS HAHA 😈🫵

[bunny-jpeg]

vegetable patch (3)

farmer!captain john price & (brief) hybrid!simon

cw: hybrid au, bunny!reader, farmer!price, pregnant!reader, pregnancy, man-handling, fingering, pwp/smut, full nelson (sex position), oral sex (f receiving), threesome, guard dog!simon, double penetration, older!price, mindbreak, (there's a lot happening),

part one (simon) | part two (simon & johnny)

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own!

john never thought it would get to this. when he bought the farm and raised his hybrid guard dogs, he never expected to have a bunny around. let along a pregnant one.

but almost six months into your pregnancy, he had grown affectionate of you. sure you were a bit to handle sometimes, but in a way pregnancy, a roof over your head and a fully belly (in both ways) has made you softer. less of a wild animal and more of a pet.

it was cute.

the one thing that didn't change was your insatiable lust. originally price thought that two strong hybrid dogs would take care of your little bunny cunt, but not even those could stop you. let alone the heaviness of your middle.

the boys were out patrolling the yard with you safe in the house. you were curled up on simon's doggy bed with your hands on your belly and your hands situated on your belly with your head propped up on a pillow.

it was cute, john found himself almost enamored by the sight of you as he relaxed on the couch with a beer in his hand. you were just so small, the little bit of chub at your hips only made you seem cuter.

he got up from the couch and left the beer on the table as he walked toward you. he crouched down and rubbed your cheek. you leaned into his touch and whimpered a little. he chuckled and said, "good girl."

your eyes opened a little and you looked up at price, "what time is it?" your little tail did a wiggle under the over-sized shirt that you wore. he chuckled and pulled you close to him.

he fully sat down on the floor and took you into his arms, delicately. his hand grazed your middle, "not even close to lunch, the boy's are still out. it's just you and i."

you dipped your nose into the crook of his neck and you whimpered, "i feel wet."

"yeah, havin' wet dreams about simon, mama?"

"no." you said, "about you." as your hand reaches for his shirt and you held onto it. you buried your face deeper into his neck as he held you on the hardwood floor.

price's eyes went wide for a moment but then slowly got up with you in his arms. it was like holding a sack of potatoes. the most prominent part of you was the puppy was slept soundly in your belly.

"then i guess we must go to bed then. i know you love simon's bed, but my knees and back won't let me fuck you on the floor." his voice was gruff.

you giggled, "be gentle, baby's sleeping."

"of course, bunny." he replied as he brought you upstairs to his bedroom. there was a spare room for guests and an extra room for the three hybrids of his home.

but right now he was taking you to his room where he could fuck that sweet bunny cunt. it hadn't been the first time he had ever done it, but every time it was something else. a wild little hybrid now tamed and under his gentle care, the way he tamed his boys.

the bed was large and soft, he placed you down and started to work on the jeans he wore followed by the flannel of his shirt. he was hairier than simon and johnny, who had tufts here and there to show their hybrid heritage. but price was hairy that was a man was.

you wondered if a human got a hybrid pregnant then what would the baby be. because from the size of price, you were certain to have a heavy newborn. you got off your shirt and sat there naked on the bed, exposed to your farmer.

his large hands touched your belly gently, thumb grazed the stretch marks, "keepin' the little pup nice and safe, huh? bein' a good mama for me?

you nodded, "only the best for you, sir."

he reached down and rubbed your chubby little cheek, "i can see why simon trapped ya." he chuckled, "cute thing like you shouldn't be wandering the woods. that little cottontail will get into too much trouble."

he got onto the bed and man-handled you into his lap, he wanted to feel you as deep as he could. he wanted to know the inside and outside of bunny cunt. but the position he got you into was more of a wrestling move to keep you pinned against him.

you put your knees up to your head and he had your arms pinned back against him. your squirmed a little, you sort of loved the idea of being trapped. john was propped up against the oak headboard with his little pet bunny in his lap with her cunt soon full of his cock.

it was a little hard to do with such a big belly in the way, you had to squish it a little as you were moved to fit his position. you faced the door that led out of the bedroom and with a few misplaced thrusts, you moaned when price sank his cock into you.

"ah, sir!" you whimpered.

he thrusted into you and kept you in the position. it tested you physical limits but john was a strong man and you were a flexible bunny. after all you had to get through his fence somehow. but now you were all nice a plump with child.

price groaned at the idea of you pregnant with his child next. such a sweet little bunny carrying the farmer's seed made his cock throb while buried inside of you. you sweet noises were music to his ears.

"you like that, mama." he groaned, "you like when i fuck you hard?" he kissed the shell of your ear, "simon got lucky to have a taste of you first, because if it were me. if i caught you in my vegetable patch, then you'd never get the taste of my cock out of your mouth."

you kicked your legs out a little bit as he sank into your further, as deep as it would go. you could feel his cock pressed against your womb. your ears twitched and you felt soaked.

"you'd like that wouldn't you. maybe a little bit more time before you go on birth control would do you some good. see if you can take this old man's seed in your pretty, fertile cunt." he grumbled, "bunnies are known for their many babies."

you felt something churn in your stomach as your pregnant belly bounced with every hard thrust. the sex was rough, heat filled the air as you two moved together.

"i like how you look, mama. all swollen with pup. i bet it was so easy for you, took simon's seed so nicely." he purred as he held you tightly, making it slightly uncomfortable.

but you felt on cloud nine, until the bedroom door opened. and on the otherside was none other than your lover, simon. you whimpered and kicked out your legs.

simon was covered in muck, blood across the shirt he wore. he watched you as you were cock drunk and raised an eyebrows, "price." he said, "what are you doin' with my girl."

"she needed a little tlc, simon." he replied, "you know what bunnies are like. they could be having thirteen kits and still beg for another." he looked over your shoulder and asked, "what the hell did you get into."

"had to scare of a coyote." simon replied, "he could smell bunny all the way from the fence. that's how i knew you were fuckin' her."

"then get that shirt off and help me out." john replied as his pace became harder. you saw stars and your mouth hung open for a moment in pure lust.

with his shirt off and dropped to the floor, followed by, his jeans. he was soon on the bed and licking at your sweet cunt as price fucked you. you were trapped between the two men and you felt a dizziness in your mind.

this was somehow more intense than the threesome you had with johnny and simon. simon only let those in his 'pack' have a taste of his pregnant mate, which meant coyotes like graves were off limits. if simon ever saw graves' paws on you.

simon kept your legs open with his strong hands, the tips of his claws left indents in your skin as he lapped at your cunt. his tongue did touch price's cock which made the older man feel hot all over.

you were the loudest out of the three of you, your voice was high pitched and you felt so full. you squirmed against both men but they kept you still as best as they could.

you came once, then twice, the three times from the pleasure from both men. it was sensory overload. your mind went blank by the third orgasm that the men pulled from you. which left simon painfully hard.

"got any room in there, price." simon said as he pulled away from your cunt and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. his cock stood at full attention in his underwear.

"well, she'll need a good stretch if she's havin' your pup." price chuckled, he could feel himself getting closer. you on the other hand were mindlessly moaning without being able to form words.

your pussy was so wet that he slid in next to price with ease. the stretch made you whimper like an animal, but soon you were dropped back into the depths of pleasure as both men used you.

price let go of your arms but caged you with his around your middle. you felt sore, but your brain couldn't register much. your mouth hung open and drooled a little. your brain felt like it was broken in half.

"i know you can't smell it, price." simon said, "but bred bunny smells the best." his hands were on your belly and soon were price's. simon felt superior for having seeded you first.

sure his other packmates had their fun, but everything from the pup in your belly to the cotton on your tail was his. he watched your gasp for air as you tried to formulate thoughts.

his poor pregnant mate, such a beating to your pussy. but it was okay, he knew that you liked it. bunny's had a pension for a little pain.

both men, fucked you without much abandon. they ever managed to pull one last orgasm out of you which tore from your throat as you went limp against price's hairy chest. the feeling of two cocks inside of your cute little cunt was just too much.

and not wasting any seed, they flooded your poor pussy with human and hybrid seed alike. they stayed in you for a moment more before they pulled out at the same time. cum oozed out of you and simon petted your belly.

"johnny's gonna be jealous he didn't get to join." price remarked.

simon replied, "before he went out on patrol with me. he stuffed a sock in her mouth and fucked her in his bed on the floor. she's got all of our seed in her."

price held you in his arms as you twitched and moaned from the aftershocks of your activity. he watched simon kiss you before he rubbed your belly, "good mama. good little bunny, now you rest and keep growing that pup. simon and i will come back for you later."

you managed to give them a weak nod, your brain felt flat-lined but the lingering feelings of pleasure still shook you to your core <3

[archive-doll]

tiger!ghost, it's goes on

Author Note: it's been sitting in my draft for weeks, and while I'm not satisfied with it, I still like it somewhat.

Trigger Warning: fantasy of biting into one flesh

The reader's body is mentioned to be fat.

The beast-man has a staring problem.

Everyone who meets him for more than five minutes knows it to be true. His hazel eyes never waver and never seem to blink while he stands there like a statue. Or actually, this morning, sit there.

His little birdie has been scaringly easy to convince into following him home. They even placed a hand into the crook of his elbow, and Simon would never admit it, but his slashed tail puffed out when they giggled and pressed themselves into his side, no sign of fear in their faces or scent.

With kneading paws, Simon guided them into his apartment, suddenly recognizing what Johnny had been saying for the last months—his place did not feel welcoming.

Or rather, it doesn't look like a home. His sharp eyes pinch back, pressing into the puff of blond hair at the top of his hair as he waits for the fairy tale to break apart. But, they look over their shoulders where his hands rest and smile at him. It feels like staring at the sun. His eyes hurt, but the idea of looking away is more painful than that bullet he took in one arsecheek.

"C'mon birdie, wat'r. Then, bed."

They didn't try to say no this time, and after a short moment of pressing clothes into their hands - a tee shirt and a boxer - they were softly snoring between his sheets.

Since then, Simon has been looking. Or staring, it depends on the point of view, maybe. They're curled into a ball while he sits on the foot of the bed, guardian body securing the door and seeing the window from the corner of his eye. And he keeps staring.

It is strange, to have another into his flat. Nothing actually changed, it's all the same. But their scents recover the itching smell of mould and the dust there. Maybe he should open his windows once in a while. Once he's certain their scents will never leave. He should arrange the place so they feel at ease coming here.

His keen eyes watch how their chest heaves with every breath, some perspiration pearling at the crown of their hair. The tee-shirt is flowing around them, the collar barely staying around their shoulders. And the fact they're wearing his boxer beneath the comforter keeping them warm, makes an unfamiliar heat burn the apple of his cheeks.

The sun is rising as he shifts on the bed, thick fingers finding the tip of their feet, and staying there. He can feel the eat of their flesh, the curves of their toes under the rubbing of his feet, and the comfort their presence brings is his salvation. The soft light of the morning passes through the curtain and he swallows into his heart the little crunch of their nose when it hits their face. He doesn't dare to move.

Simon only goes away to fetch them water, hours later, and painkillers. They're dishevelled, leaning into the wall behind the bed when he presses his palm under the glass of water, placing it against their pouty lips. There are marks on their cheeks from the pillowcase, and now, he can see the arch of their cupid bow. His ears twitch, eyes entranced seeing how their throat shift and moves with every gulp and he can't control it. Or maybe he doesn't want to.

His fingers pat the top of their head, pinching some strands between his fingertips and adjusting it all before his knuckles rub against the softness of their jaw. They're all plump everywhere, and the tent in his trousers grows when they lap at the water straying on their bottom lip.

"Good?"

"Mhm."

The glass of water is forgotten on the cupboard he uses as a nightstand, hands pawing and grabbing at their body until they're laying down again, head finding the old pillow there. There's a sight and soft touches that find his arms. His hips twitch in the air when they murmur his name, when did he tell them? Simon doesn't remember. He doesn't care too with how sweet it sounds, like honey falling from their tongue.

Their fingers find repose along the heavy curve of his biceps while he continues his shaky coddling, tee shirt settling by their waist. It's doughy there, plush and it waves beneath his hands when he presses one palm on their stomach. Simon sooth their angry tummy, gaze devouring the softening curl of their eyebrow.

"You were supposed to call me first, kitty. Not bring me to your bed."

They blink up, quietness overwhelming the bedroom before they grin up at him at the surprise in his eyes. Even though sleep keeps their face hazy, it's dizzying. They look cheeky and the desire to sink his teeth into the swell of their chin is overflowing.

He growls, the scars around his mouth twisting as they chuckle, and presses the tip of his fingers under her ribs, watching the thickness of their abdomen bend to make a place for him. It's hypnotizing, the sight of it.

"Need to eat som'thin', birdie."

No one called him kitty and survived the affront for a very long time. He wants to taste the sound from their mouth. But, it seems he will have to tame them first, teach 'em some manners too. The bed creaks as he rises up, and they let out a gasp when the mattress quivers, hands empty now before he strides toward the door.

"Kitchen, now."

Their laughter hits him like a kick in the gut.

"I need some coffee first, knighty!"

"Tea."

The bedroom door is left open as he disappears into his apartment, searching for his phone He can't wait to see the tears on their face when he buries himself into their mouth. Maybe that'd shut them up.

© archive-doll - all rights reserved. reposting or modifying, including translating or use on AI is not permitted. original characters are not my own but the stories and writing are.

[the-californicationist]

Four Winds

AO3 was down and I panicked.

NSFW MDNI

"Fuck, Johnny. Your tight hole feels so bloody good. Takin' me so well. Good boy," Price groaned, slipping his rod into his sergeant's hole in quick, pounding thrusts, encouraging him as he straddled the captain's hips, his nose buried in his lieutenant's dense pubic hair, "Suck Riley's cock like that. Just like that."

Gaz was fucking Simon, and every time he thrust forward, Ghost's cock would slip deeper into the Scot's throat.

"You like watchin' Si getting fucked by Gaz's huge rod, don't you, Johnny? Yeah? You want me to fuck you like that, boy?" Price grunted as he pulled Johnny's hips down onto his shaft, spearing him over and over from below.

Johnny whimpered, his cries quieted by Ghost's fat dick, choking him with every throbbing pulse.

As Johnny rode Price's cock, the captain pressed him forward, bending him away, forcing him to show how his stretched hole was taking him. Then, just to make him whine again, Price fit his thumbs in on either side of his cock, pushing Soap past the point of his girth, making him feel so damn full.

Suddenly, as if spurred on by Johnny's muffled high-pitched screams of pleasure, Simon gripped him by his mohawk and held his mouth down on him, burying himself deeper, making his lover writhe for air. Price could feel his asshole clenching against him as he choked, struggling for a breath, whining and pleading for mercy.

Then, Price knew the lieutenant must have been filling the Scot's belly with warm come because Johnny stopped fighting, and his eyes gleamed with shining tears as he looked up at his tall, blond lover, swallowing his orgasm with each and every writhing squeeze.

Price didn't know how much more he could take. Gaz's thrusting rhythm was making Ghost rock forward, forcing Johnny to suck him down his throat, pressing him down onto Price's length deeper and deeper. It was heaven. He wanted to pump his pretty little Scottish sergeant so full it would be dripping out of him all night. He wanted to taste his gaping hole.

"Oh, fuck, Ghost! I'm gonna fuckin' blow," Gaz confessed, grabbing Simon by the neck and forcing his head to bend forward, hunching him over, giving his lengthy cock more access to his warm hole.

"Do it. Come in me, Garrick. Right fuckin' now," his lieutenant commanded, his eyes rolling white from the forcefulness of his sex.

Johnny fell back away from Simon's cock, drool shining on his lips, laying his back on Price's chest languidly, rubbing his own nipples and pinching them cruelly.

After coming all over his spread hole, Gaz knelt down beside Ghost, and they both began to lick Johnny's bouncing shaft, making him cry out in bright, loud shouts.

"Fuck! Oh, fuckin' hell. Dinnae stop, lads. Please! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph… Yer… yer gonna make me come. Oh, my God. Oh --"

Price watched as Johnny's cock bobbed up and down, flagging wildly from how the captain was fucking him, spraying his creamy, thick load all over his belly. Gaz and Ghost started licking it off of him. Price called down,

"Oi, Gaz. Give us a taste, yeah?"

Garrick did as he was told, swiping his hand up and down Soap's softening dick, collecting his liquid joy and brought it to his captain's mouth, letting him lap up the Scot's come from his wide palm.

"Cap'n… please," Johnny whispered, turning his head towards Price, "I wanna feel it… I wanna feel yer come in me, sir. Please…"

"Alright, mate," Price gripped Johnny around his throat and jaw, his big hand covering his mouth, "I'd say you've bloody well earned it."

Filling Soap with his dripping seed was so sweet. The sergeant took it so well, like he was made for it. And the noises that came from Price's throat were otherworldly. He was blinded by his pleasure, and he had never come so hard in his whole life. Everything was wet, and he wanted to drown in it.

After he was finished pulsing, Price shuddered as he slid out of Johnny's limp body, and his men joined him in a twisted, panting, cuddled pile of limbs and torsos, kissing and licking whatever skin they could find.

They could deal with the mess in the morning.

[d0youc0py]

heyy saw your post ab requests!!

can you do simon and konig seeing their s/o for first time without makeup, but she's rlly insecure and overthinking it, while he's totally clueless bc he doesn't think much of it until he realizes she's acting kinda weird. ending with comfort/fluff plss

“You’re mad at me?”

The question rang through your head causing a flood of confusion.

“What? No Konnie.” You assured.

“Why won’t you look at me? You’re barely talking to me. I did something to upset you.” Those sad blue puppy dog eyes nearly killed you. You rapidly shook your head.

“Konnie I would tell you if you did something. I just”- You cut yourself off. You knew Konig was the exact opposite of materialistic and vain, so you didn’t exactly know how to tell him how you were feeling without getting laughed at. “I’m not wearing makeup.” You said slowly. He squinted his eyes leaning forward. He didn’t stop til your noses were touching.

“I like it.” He stated. “You’re mad at me because I didn’t notice.” He also stated. You rolled your eyes.

“No Konnie!” You couldn’t really even hold back a smile. The fact that he was missing your point completely actually made you feel a bit better. Maybe you really didn’t look that different. “I just don’t feel pretty.” His eyes widened.

“How can you say that?” He mumbled. “I don’t like you saying things like that.” He grabbed the empty plate in front of you and began washing it. He muttered a few things under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch.

“What?” You pressed. He didn’t answer you and continued washing the dishes. Once he was done he sat back down with you. This was a common thing with Konig. Him needing time to plan out what he was going to say. At first it felt insincere- having to plan out exactly what you were going to say to a person. Then you realized it just made him all the more honest. He genuinely thought about things- instead of just giving the first answer that popped into his head.

“What do I call you?” He asked suddenly.

“Schön.”

“What does it mean?” He continued.

“Uh, Sweetheart?”

“No, that’s Schatz.” He said shaking his head. “It means beautiful.” That was enough to make your eyes light up. Schön was his preferred nickname for you when you were alone. It was usually mumbled against your skin, but other times it was spoken so proudly as if it were a fact. He held out his arms for you. You accepted his invitation and crawled into his lap.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered.

“Again.”

“Simon.” You groaned. “Can we do this later? My throat hurts.”

“Do you feel it?”

You paused.

“Again.” He insisted.

“I’m beautiful.” You muttered looking at yourself in the mirror. If anything this was worsening your self esteem. Having to stare at yourself next to your god of a boyfriend. Simon shot you a glare in the mirror.

He thought affirmations would help. After you had a small breakdown in the living room when he said you looked different. He didn’t mean it in a bad way at all, but that’s what you heard.

“When Johnny does this it works.” He muttered back, rubbing his jaw. Flashes of the Scot yelling affirmations to himself in the mirror before every mission flashed through his mind.

“That’s cause Johnny is hot.”

Cue another glare.

“You know what I mean. He just rolls out of bed- so do you. Do you know how much work I have to put in to not look ugly?”

“What did you just say?” His voice was so stern it caused you to jump. “You called yourself ugly?” He looked offended. His molten eyes were hard- but there was something else there. Hurt- maybe anger. Probably both.

“You know what I mean.” You sighed.

“No actually I don’t.” He spat. “Why do you talk to yourself like that? Makes me sick.” He growled.

“It doesn’t really have anything to do with you Si. It’s just how I feel without makeup.” You tried to explain. He wasn’t having it.

“It does have something to do with me. You think I have bad taste? That I’m attracted to ugly people? Well I’m not. I’m not saying I like you just because of your looks, you have a lot going for you, but you sure as hell aren’t here just cause you can make me laugh.” He shot back.

“Well you’ve only seen me with makeup.” You reminded. His brows furrowed.

“You’re still here yeah? I haven’t kick you out. You know why?” He took a step forward holding your face between his hands. “You are one of the most beautiful things that have ever happened to me. Don’t you ever insult my taste again, because I know beauty when I see it. Understand?”

A soft smile spread across his face when your glow came back. You smiled widely.

“Yes Sir.”

[iateyourparents]

Hi!! can you write a Johnnie x fem reader fluff? 🙏🏼

red face | j.g.

pairing: johnnie guilbert x fem!reader

summary: you scared johnnie.

warnings: johnnie’s jumpscare(??), use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english isn’t my first language)

an: hi!! finally started doing older requests 🫡

The only thing you needed to be fully content right now was your boyfriend.

It was after 8 p.m., you were in your pj’s and almost done with your skincare. You were more than ready to already jump into your bed and watch some movie with little snacks.

Unfortunately for you, you would have to wait with it for few more minutes.

You just put on red serum on your face and you had to wait fifteen minutes before rinsing it off your face.

You had to admit, you looked ridiculous. In your pink pyjamas with cute dogs on the shorts, with funny dinosaur headband and red face because of the serum. But it was pretty low price for pretty skin.

Just as you got out of the bathroom to wait those few minutes in the living room, the door to your apartment opened.

You smiled excitedly, Johnnie was finally home!

You quickly made your way towards the hallway to greet your boyfriend.

Just as you were ready to throw your arms around his middle he looked at you with a big smile, which quickly faded when he looked at your face.

Not a second later all you could hear was Johnnie’s squealing. You immediately stopped in your tracks and looked at him worriedly with wide eyes.

He quickly stopped screaming but still was inspecting your face with vivid curiosity.

“What happened to ‘hi love, great to see you, I missed you so much?” you asked sarcastically. When he didn’t say anything and still looked at you with wide eyes, you got worried again “Hi, Johnnie, what happened?”

“Y/n?” he asked uncertainly.

“Yeah?” you raised your eyebrows.

“Your face. It’s red.” he stated and then scrunched his nose and quickly went to stand next to you putting his hands on your arms “Is that blood? Oh my god, are you hurt? Come on, I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

You laughed quietly but seeing his serious face you smiled at him and rubbed your hand on his cheek “I’m alright love, seriously. It’s not blood. It’s just serum.” you assured him.

“Serum?” he asked dumbfounded and you nodded and kissed his cheek.

“Yeah, I would kiss you hello but I don’t want to smear it all over your face.” you giggled and he smiled affectionately.

“You look funny.” he laughed while toying with your headband. You narrowed your eyebrows playfully.

“Hey!” you acted offended and slapped his hand off. You turned around and planned to start walking but Johnnie quickly caught your waist and pulled you into his chest, then he kissed your head, carefully not touch the serum with his lips.

“You’re still adorable.” he assured with a giggle “I missed you so much today.” he sighed putting his cheak on the top of your head.

“I missed you too.” you didn’t even tried to continue your offended act and big smile made its way onto your face “How was recording?”

“Good, although I wanted to kill Jake.” he mumbled into your hair and you laughed.

“Let’s go to the living room, we can cuddle after I rinse it off in a moment.” you offered and before you could comprehend what happened, you were in the air.

Safely tucked into Johnnie’s arms, he transported you into the bathroom and then he placed you in front of the sink.

“Rinse it off and I will take quick shower.” he said taking off his clothes and you laughed but did as he said.

You rinsed off the liquid from your face and then wiped your face dry with paper towel. You applied moisturizer and stood next to the shower door.

“Johnnie, I will get you some clothes and prepare some snacks, we can watch something.” you said hoping he would hear you through the water.

“Okay baby.” he replied and you made your way towards your shared bedroom to retrieve his pyjamas clothes.

Soon, you two were laying on the bed, cuddling, with some snacks while watching some new movie.

Every few minutes Johnnie was placing kisses all over your face and you tried to scold him for interrupting your watching but you both knew you didn’t mean a word because of the big smile that was on your face every time he was leaning to kiss you.

Yeah, now you were fully content.

[daisies-daydreams]

Husband/Papa Ghost Headcanons

Pairing: Simon (Ghost) Riley x Wife!Reader Category: Fluff Warnings: Suggestive Content, Swearing, Descriptions of Labor/Contractions

Author's Note: This is a continuation of this request (WARNING: 18+). Enjoy!

Simon would be a proud papa, that's for sure.

He didn’t use his phone that much before, only to text or call people. But his storage space began to run out pretty quickly with all of the photos and videos he took of your daughter, Lily.

“What are you doing, Si?” you giggled. Lily banged on the toy piano while your husband was crouched down, phone camera rolling.

“Filming Lily’s performance,” he replied matter-of-factly. You chuckled and kissed the top of his head, ruffling his dark brown hair. Your two-year old daughter cheered when she finished her song, face lit up and arms stretched above her head in triumph.

“All done!” she beamed with a wide smile. Both of you clapped.

“Good job, Lil,” Simon chuckled.

Simon nearly passed out when you told him you were pregnant with your second baby (not that it came as a surprise to you both👀).

Just like your first pregnancy, he’d try to be there for you as much as he could. It was different now with Lily in the picture, but she made many of your days full of joy and laughter.

I can see him being a stern yet reasonable dad. He’d discipline his kids yet never intentionally hurt them.

Lily’s lower lip pouted as she avoided his gaze. Simon’s arms were at his sides as he eyed the blue stains on her face and the empty candy jar on the floor. He lowered himself to be at her eye-level.

“Lily, baby, did you eat the candy even though Mommy told you not to?” Simon asked, trying to keep his voice soft and steady. Lily burst into tears, rubbing her eyes with her little, sticky hands.

“I sowwy,” she sniffled. His heart ached, but he knew she had to learn to listen to her mom.

“I know, baby,” he sighed as he pulled her into a hug. She cried into his chest. “Candy tastes yummy, but it’ll hurt your tummy if you eat too much,” Simon explained. Lily sniffed, snot dripping from her button nose and onto his shirt. He pulled her back and looked her in the eyes. “No candy for the next three days, okay? Then you can have it again,” he explained while holding up three fingers. She puffed out another sob before nodding her head.

“Okay, Dada,” she sniffled.

Your second pregnancy was more difficult than the first. You had more health complications, which worried Simon half-to-death. He couldn’t bear to think of anything happening to you while he was thousands of miles away on a mission.

All of 141 were like family to you. They'd pop in every once in a while, especially Lily's godfather, Soap.

"Unk Nee!" Lily squealed. Soap grinned ear to ear at the attempt of his nickname ("Uncle Johnny"). She giggled as she ran into his open arms. He spun her around as you walked in from your bedroom. You gave a tired smile, leaning on the wall and rubbing your swollen belly. Simon was still working on his car in the garage, yelling out that he'd be there in a moment.

"How's my wee firecracker doin'?" Soap beamed. Lily ducked her head into his shoulder, her small dirty blonde curls bouncing. Both of you laughed. "Gettin' shy now, are ya?" Soap chuckled.

"You know how kids are," you waved. Soap smiled as he set the toddler down. She rushed back over to you, hiding behind your legs. You patted her head gently.

"How you doin', lass?" Soap asked as he stepped further inside. You sighed, Lily clinging to your maternity pants.

"This pregnancy's kicking my a-butt, it's kicking my butt," you quickly changed your wording. Soap snorted as Lily cackled behind you.

"Mama said 'butt'!" your daughter sang. You grumbled and collapsed your face into your hands.

"Sounds like she's got quite the potty mouth, huh Lily?" your husband chuckled beside you. You felt him snake his hand around your waist. He pecked your cheek, his skin coated in a sheen of sweat from his hard work.

"Why don't you give me a spanking later to teach me a lesson?" you whispered lowly into his ear. Red immediately flooded his cheeks as his hand gripped your hip. Before he could retort, another figure walked through the front door. Lily peeked from behind your legs and gasped as Price entered the room.

"Grandpa!" Lily cheered while pointing her finger at the captain.

You've never heard a room grow so quiet in a single second.

Both of you explained that Price was most definitely not her grandpa, yet she was insistent on the terminology. The captain teased Simon about it constantly.

"I think you taught her to say that," Price chuckled.

As the due date approached, Simon's heart was shattered. He was being sent away on a longer mission, and it required that he made no contact with you. Your husband assured you that he'd be back in time for the delivery, and spent as much time as he could with you and Lily before he left.

A few weeks later, Simon was sprinting through the hospital to get to your delivery room.

Simon’s heavy footsteps echoed down the hall as he whipped around the corner. A blonde nurse shot an incredulous look at the masked man as he sprinted to the counter.

“WHERE’S DELIVERY ROOM 109?!” Simon boomed. The poor woman's face went pale as she pointed a shaking finger down the hall. His head snapped as he shouted a ‘thank you’ behind him. Simon rushed past several nurses and doctors, the door getting closer. He could hear your wailing pierce through the hallway. Simon nearly crashed into the doctor when he stepped out into the hall.

“MR. RILEY!” the doctor gaped with wide eyes. Your husband’s chest rose and fell as he panted. Another harsh cry broke out through the room. “Quickly, she’s about to start pushing,” the doctor rushed him inside. Simon's eyes grew wide as they locked with yours.

"Si," you called softly. Your face was pale, sweat covering every inch of your tense and aching body. Simon rushed over, immediately clasping his hands over yours.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” his dry voice croaked. You gave a weak laugh before jolting forward, another strong contraction ripping through you.

“B-Bullshit,” you tiredly chuckled through gritted teeth. The doctor and nurses came closer to your bedside.

“Okay, Mrs. Riley. It's time to start pushing. Are you ready?” the doctor asked. You swallowed thickly, your entire body shaking as it was wracked with waves of pain. Simon squeezed your hand and lifted his skull balaclava to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

“You’ve got this, love. I’m right here,” he assured. You nodded before sucking in a deep breath.

Not long after, your baby boy, Thomas, was born.

His throat grew tight when you suggested his late brother's name. You were afraid you'd overstepped, but he quickly kissed you on the lips and told you it was the perfect name for the newest addition to the Riley family.

Simon stared in awe at the small baby swaddled in his arms. You were fast asleep in your new bed, exhausted from the long, grueling day. Thomas' plump, rosy cheeks glowed softly as he yawned. Your husband beamed when two small, dark eyes just like his own gazed up at him.

“Hi there, little Tommy,” Simon breathed.

Both of you were unsure as to how Lily would take to her new baby brother. However, when her eyes lit up and she squealed when she saw him for the first time, Simon knew she’d be the best big sister.

Simon would make it a goal to read to Lily and Tommy every night. It melted your heart when you sat with him, Lily in her bed and Tommy in his crib listening to his low voice lull them to sleep.

While most date nights were spent inside your home nowadays, he was just happy to spend any time he had with you.

Simon would leave little gifts or notes around the house, letting you know what an amazing mother and wife you are.

If you feel insecure about your body after giving birth, he'll do everything in his power to remind you otherwise.

Your eyes widened as a sudden slap streaked across your ass. You whipped your head around. Simon's eyes were trained on the TV, though the hand draped over the arm of the couch said enough. You crossed your arms, thankful that Lily was playing in the adjacent room and Tommy was fast asleep in his crib.

"Got something to tell me, Si?" you said with a quirked brow. His lidded, chocolate-brown eyes flicked over to you, his hands reaching over to pull you on your lap.

"Simon!" you gasped. Laughs spilled from your lips as your husband bombarded your neck with kisses, his large hands reaching down and squeezing your bum.

"Can't help myself, sweetheart. Not when you're walking around with this cute arse of yours," he mused. You bit your lip and wiggled in his lap. He nibbled on your ear, his voice low and husky as he whispered into it.

"Tonight, after the kids are asleep, why don't I show you just how irresistible you are?" Simon groaned.

Tommy was a much more of a fussy baby than Lily. He’d keep both of you up constantly. You called your/Simon's relatives or friends over every so often so both of you could have a break.

“How are you feeling, love?” Simon asked. Both of you were lying in the hammock in a park, the summer breeze rocking you back and forth. Your best friend was at home watching your children. Heavy bags rested below your eyes as you stretched.

“Fucking exhausted,” you sighed. Simon chuckled, brushing your hair from your forehead and planting a kiss over it.

“I know, hun. Why don’t you take a nap, yeah?” he suggested. You nodded, letting sleep quickly overtake you. He breathed in through his nose, his mind wandering too much for him to fall asleep. Instead, he took in the sight of his beautiful wife wrapped in his arms as the rest of the world melted away.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

(Writing these melts my heart ngl. We love Papa Ghost in this house).

[ink-n-shadow]

I would love to hear more of your ideas on the ABO!141 AU Glad you're feeling better, hope that your day is way better tomorrow <3

thank you love ♥ this was just a lil idea i had about kyle as the only beta in the pack bc i genuinely believe it’d be a little bit stressful and chaotic and he’d just need a break every so often

(also this is an old(ish) work that i've had in my drafts! i'm still kinda on a writing break until next monday, but enjoy <3)

kyle’s kind of the designated caretaker of the home and base. you can always find him straightening the pillows or folding up blankets, sometimes sweeping the dust bunnies from the floors or vacuuming the couch cushions. it’s a way for him to kind of reset himself and get time to himself. as the only beta in the group, it’s sometimes overwhelming to be caught in the middle all of the time, somewhat of a constant push and pull. so when any of you see kyle tidying up, you know to give him his space.

the only one who can really pull kyle out of his routine is john, who strides calmly up behind him as he folds up a blanket to drape along the back of the couch. he’s jostled from his dissociation by the feeling of two giant paws rubbing up his back slowly before resting on his shoulders, giving a soft squeeze that has kyle humming.

“thought you were doin’ paperwork,” kyle mumbles softly as he glanced over his shoulder at the alpha, eyes fluttering when he notices the soft look in them. “y’ need me for somethin’, cap?”

and it’s john’s turn to hum, bringing kyle’s attention back to the blanket with a gentle nudge of his nose against the back of his neck. “need you to take a break—y’know how long you’ve been cleanin’?”

kyle’s silence is enough of an answer, and he finally accepts defeat when john takes the blanket from him and drapes it across the back of the couch half folded, letting the alpha spin him around to face him. kyle instinctively tilts his head to the side, baring his neck for john when the alpha shakes his head gently, tilting kyle’s head back down with a couple fingers on his chin.

“why don’t you go to that one cafe y’like down the street, yeah? take some time for y’self, sweetheart,” john coos softly and lets his hands come up to kyle’s jaw, holding his cheeks in the palms of his hands. before kyle even has the chance to ask the question, john’s answering it. “don’t worry ‘bout the ‘megas—simon ‘nd i got it under control.”

and kyle can’t help but lurch forward to bury his face into john’s neck, arms wrapping around his body and hugging him tight against his body. he lets out a muffled “thanks cap,” which earns him a gentle head rub and a kiss to the temple.

“bring me back some tea, ‘lright? ‘nd grab those croissant things johnny likes. use my card too.”

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Mo ghràdh mòr 🩶

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x reader

A/N: this was supposed to be cute and all fluff but um... I spiraled. It's angsty, with a happy ending, though!!! I love Johnny sm 🤧

~Fi 🐝

《Warnings》: Domestic angst, mw3 is NOT canon in this house, the TF141 being the absolute best bois, Simon being the best best friend, HAPPY ENDING 🥳

《Word count》: 1.9k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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"Johnny?"

"Yeah, bonnie?" He was stood in front of the pantry, searching for something to snack on as his body slightly angled itself towards the sound of your voice while his eyes were dead set on finding some food before dinner.

He was met with silence on your end and quiet shuffling, his arm already pushing to close the pantry when he felt your arms wrap around his middle. A sweet and giddy smile graced his face as did a pink tint at the familiar feeling of your cheek pressed against his back.

"I love you, s'all." You mumbled, your arms stretching over his taught stomach.

"Oh, that's all, aye?" Johnny teased lightly, although the love seeping from his honeyed voice failed to portray the tone as he intended, the calloused pads of his fingers going to gently rub over your hands.

"Actually, it's everything. 'Cause you're my everything, and I love you so much."

The soft hum of your voice against his skin sent a pleasant tingly feeling down his spine, one that crawled its way into his chest and exploded like millions of fireworks.

"I love ye too, my bonnie lass." He said softly, giving your hands a gentle squeeze.

"But I wonder," Johnny began with that ever so familiar smirk ringing in his voice, "any reason yer no' sayin' it tae ma face?"

You grumbled something illegible into his back, and he could feel your brows scrunching together, which only made his cheshire like grin widen. He gently pried your hands from his stomach and turned around to face you before he wrapped your arms back around his middle.

Your chin was resting on his chest as you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours, and everything in him melted.

"You weren't facing me, that's why." You replied sweetly as one of hid hands settled on your cheek, gently stroking the soft skin, while the other found its place on your hip.

"No other reason?" He grinned softly, watching you huff and pout at him.

"I can prove it."

"Yeah? And how would ye prove tha' tae-"

"I love you, Johnny MacTavish. With everything that I am. You might not be perfect, but you're perfect for me." You cut him off, looking into his ocean blue eyes, delivering your confession with every bit of sincerity you had in you.

His face fell, and with the way he turned red and his eyes got misty, you knew he didn't expect something like this.

You were joking around, teasing each other, and then you came along with your sincere love and dropped it on him like a bomb. And at that point Johnny just knew, he knew, it's not like you hadn't said the L-word before or that he ever doubted you, but this felt different. He sniffled and wiped at his nose before looking away from you.

"Steamin' Jesus, hen, ye cannae drop somethin' like tha' on an unsuspecting man." He cleared his throat, trying to discreetly wipe a few stray tears from his eyes. Your hand found his stubbled cheek and gently turned his face back to look at you.

"I mean every damn word." You smiled softly, his lips twitching upwards in a smile. Johnny tiped his head forward and slightly to the side, leaning into your touch and pressing a few small kisses to your palm.

"Ah don't deserve ye, bonnie." He mumbled into your hand with a sigh, nuzzling his face closer to your warm touch. Your brows shot together and you pinched the apple of his cheek.

"Don't say that!" You scolded him, an angry pout settling on your lips.

"Alright, alright." He chuckled softly, putting his hands up in mock surrender before uttering a quiet "c'mere." And pulling you into a loving embrace, held tightly to his chest.

"I love you too, mo ghràdh. I see ma future when I look into yer pretty eyes. It only beats for ye, ah swear." He said quietly, full of love and truth, moving your hand to rest right above his heart to feel the steady and comforting rythym of his blood pumping in his veins. You let out a sigh, having never felt safer than in his arms.

You stayed like this for a while, only until your limbs began to feel heavy and you gently sagged down to the floor with Johnny, backs pressed up against the pantry as you clung to each other still, not wanting to let go.

One arm was snaked around your middle, pulling you flush against his side while his other hand was loosely intertwined with yours as he gently fiddled with your fingers. Your head found its place onto his shoulder, reveling in the sensation of him beside you.

It was a comfortable and pleasant silence as the sun made its journey beyond the horizon, dipping the world into a dark indigo night speckled with the golden spots of the city lights. The lights in your kitchen dimmed, enough to see, but also so you could see outside your windows and watch life pass by for so many others all while all time had seemed to stop for both you and Johnny.

"I... don't mean to ruin the mood but.." you whispered, fearing that if you spoke any louder, your little slice of heaven could shatter beneath your fingertips. You could feel his head shift slightly, looking down at you presumably, which made you go on.

"I was so scared. I was so fucking scared, Johnny, I... I've never felt so helpless in my entire life. When I got that phone call, it was like... like getting my heart ripped out of my chest, and..." you took a breath after your shaky confession, keeping your gaze away from his. You knew that looking into his eyes at this very moment would break the dam, drowning you in a giant flood.

"I couldn't... I couldn't fix it. I had to watch. I don't even remember most of it, it's a big blurr of me wailing like I was the one that was hurt.. and then there were Simon and Kyle... they stopped me from physically falling apart, I think. I felt like I was dying and they both just held me so tight as if to stop the pain..." acid like tears were freely falling down your cheeks but you did everything in your power to keep your voice steady and finally tell Johnny what went on after his accident and the time he was in the hospital.

You glanced up at him when you felt his arms tighten around you, only to be met with tears of his own rolling down his face. You could practically see the lump in his throat from how hard he was trying to swallow it. But Johnny didn't say anything. He couldn't even if he wanted to, so he just held you as tightly as he could without breaking your bones and listened. "John put on his stupid Captain facade... I knew he was trying to be strong for our sake, for my sake, but I wanted to punch him so badly. And I... I was horrible to him that night, screaming obscenities and insults in his face, but he forgave it all." You swallowed, tasting the salt of your tears trickle down the back of your throat.

"Simon temporarily moved in with me. He insisted, there was no changing his mind," you laughed softly between sniffles at how stubborn Simon could be," he slept on that horrible couch for a month just so he could make sure I was okay. He was my rock, you know, just as Kyle and John were, but Simon... he's my best friend. And I wish I could've done something for him, too, he wouldn't even let me sleep on the couch when I offered him the bed and-" your chest was starting to shake from the sobs that racked through you as you clung to Johnny's sweatshirt.

"I'm sure ye did more for 'im than ye know." He croaked through his tightened throat, trying to push that horrid feeling in his chest down as he feared the thin string of composure he had left would snap and wreak a blizzard of emotions upon him.

He held you as you cried, hating the sound of your broken wails and sobs. His head fell back against the door of the pantry with a dull thump as he squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed once more.

Johnny almost hated your cries more than he did the heart wrenching things you'd confessed to him, he couldn't help but feel something cold pierce his heart everytime a new wrangled sound ripped from your throat. The pain he felt watching and hearing you in so much distress neared the agony and searing feeling he'd felt when he got shot.

He hated that it happened, why wasn't he more careful? He hated how much pain he'd caused you and his friends, although he knew it wasn't his fault. The both of you steadied your breathing, still sat on your kitchen floor, as your sobs were replaced by soft ragged breaths.

"I'm sorry." His words felt too loud as they broke through the silence, and he cringed slightly at how his voice sounded, all rough from the strain in his throat.

"Sorry for what?" You sniffled, wiping at your tears.

"I'm sorry for bein' so careless. And stupid. I-... I'm sorry for causin' ye all this pain.." when his voice broke halfway through the sentence, you quickly sat up on your knees and pulled him into a tight hug, his forehead falling onto your shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Johnny. Never, ever, ever is it your fault. It was horrible for you, too- shit, you're the one that got shot." You chuckled sadly, pulling a deep and pleasant rumble from his chest.

His hands were clutched to your waist as you were the one to hold him this time.

"I didn't mean to bring it up this suddenly, but it's just been weighing on me lately..." You mumbled, shifting around from the uncomfortable position you were in.

"S'okay, hen. I suppose it... sorta helps me when ye tell me what happened while I was... you know, out." He ended the sentence with a soft chuckle. You leaned back and looked at his face with a soft smile, gently brushing your thumb over the scar on his chin.

"I'll tell you if you think it'll help.. just not today. I'm exhausted." You giggled and that goofy smile of his was back in its rightful place.

"I think that's enough for one day, aye, lass?" He grinned sleepily, his eyes glazing over with sleep.

"Yeah, let's get to bed. I love you." You said softly, slightly shifting your weight forward to press a kiss to his lips. It was slow and soft, but so sweet it still made your spine tingle. So much emotion and passion was poured into that kiss, you could've sworn you were about to break into tears once more.

"I love ye more, mo ghràdh. More than you could ever know." Johnny replied, mumbling half of it against your mouth, impatient as he was.

"I love you even more than that." You grinned, challenging him a little to lighten the mood. He scoffed with a wide smirk, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms tightly around your middle as he teasingly bumped his nose against yours.

"That's impossible."

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First full Johnny fic, wooooo!!

I'm working on something BIG for John, too 👀

I hope you liked it, MWAH <3

More of my works 💫

[partycatty]

I don’t know if you’re open to requests but me and my friend have this hc and I would like to see your rendition of it. The reader is stressed about their Algebra test coming up and since Johnny has a PhD in quantum mechanics and deals with that stuff, he offers to help. And as the reader is thinking on the problem Johnny gives them, they put the pencil in their mouth seductively but are unaware of it and Johnny gets a little… riled up. And you can take it from there :)

Love ya !! 🥰💜

ough i love me a big smart man

johnny cage > teach you a lesson

notes: my last fic took all of my mental strength for smut for now so it's only gonna be implied

[ masterlist ]

• damn you and your stubbornness, you're here trying to get your engineering degree and the class you put off all these years finally creeps up on you... and you hate math. thankfully, your best friend has a phd (which still baffles you when you think about it too much; not that he's stupid, more that it's so out of left field for him that you thought he was joking when he first told you).

• knocking on his door, he answers so quickly you wonder if he tumbled down the stairs to answer you in record time. he was always ready to do anything you asked of him, so you knew he was the right person to go to

• you explain the situation, about how you're teetering on the edge of just tearing your textbooks apart with your teeth before he slows you down with his hands on your shoulders.

• johnny ushers you in, welcoming you to his dining room after sweeping the various accumulation of stuff littering every surface to a degree.

• johnny's smarter than you gave him credit for, focusing on his well-articulated lecture but you find yourself missing the middle portion of his lessons when his veiny arms are exposed as he rolls up his shirt. his hands were so defined, so strong...

• "are you even listening?" he groans dramatically, waving said head in front of your face. "you wanna pass this class or not?"

• you swallow thickly, though the subject is still shamefully fuzzy in your mind. nodding slowly, johnny pinches the bridge of his nose before resuming.

• "maybe this'll be easier if we..." he leans over your seated form, towering over you as he flips your notes to a blank page over your shoulder. "here." he writes an example equation, a relatively easy one so he could break it down for you.

• shaking the dirty thoughts, you try to pick the equation apart, separating what you know is in the correct order of operations, but you're stumped when the denominators don't add up like they should.

• the tip of your pencil brushes against your bottom lip as your brows knit in thought. it swiped across the width of your lip, pushing in ever so slightly against your teeth as you desperately try to find a way past the confusion.

• johnny falls eerily silent, fists clenching as he breathing feels hot and heavy down your neck. he rubs his face, circling the table with a long sigh. the noise draws your attention, completely oblivious to how tight his pants were from the display.

• "sorry," you sheepishly look down at the paper. "this is... a lot."

• "no... no! you're fine!" johnny snaps himself back to reality at your puppy eyed expression, like his desperation for you was somehow your fault when it was really his for not knowing how to keep things in control.

• you feel smaller as you sink into the chair, trying to retrace your steps through the numbers. instinctively, the pencil finds its way to your mouth again and you gently suck on the shortened eraser, your tongue pressing against the head of it as the multiplication takes its time in your mind.

• johnny chokes on air, punching his chest to hide his flustered face. he can't even look at you or you might notice the steam from his ears.... why were you here again?

• "you're not helping," you remind him teasingly, and he jogs to your side with a cool breath to regulate his temperature. "did i do this right?"

• johnny leans down, his chin almost on your shoulder as he inspects your work. the error stands out to him at lightning speed and he pulls at your wrist, abruptly tugging the pencil from your mouth and slamming it against the table.

• "there," he huffs out, circling the error with his finger. "five over nine. not nine over five." his eyes flick between the back of your head and the pencil, and the way the eraser shines. he might pass out if he thinks too hard about it.

• he should've picked an easier equation so you'd stop thinking so damn hard about this, he thinks. the pencil wanders back between your lips and it's when you bite down on the pink tip his flat palm slaps the table, making everything rattle. you jump and look up with a shocked expression.

• "can you... not." he breathes, cheeks red and brows furrowed.

• "not... what?" you look down, maybe you had a bad habit in the math process?

• "don't do that." he's being vague, it's getting on your nerves.

• "you're gonna have to be clearer."

• "keep that thing away from your mouth," johnny points at your fingers twirling the pencil, an accusatory finger firm like he caught it committing a crime.

• "the pencil?" you're caught off guard, wondering what his issue is.

• "yes, the damn pencil!" he groans, running a hand down his face. "can't think straight for a single second when you're... you know."

• it clicks in your head, what he's asking of you. it flusters you but also fills you with an egotistical desire. you always had a lingering crush on your best friend, but you never wanted to act on it out of fear of losing the best thing that ever happened to you. johnny's deep, dark voice makes your core stir as you think about the possibilities, how to test the waters from here.

• you slowly place it flat against your tongue, trying to ignore the taste as you relish in the way johnny twitches his eye at the sight. he wants to look away but you're forcing him to, that knowing glint fatal for his heart. the thought of your tongue holding the heavy weight of his thumb, or worse, his dick, is driving him up the wall.

• johnny stomps beside you, grabbing your wrist and pulling the pencil away, managing to throw it out of your grasp and capturing your lips with his own as the pencil rolls off on its own adventure.

• his kiss is consuming, far too much for your mind as you grow dizzy at the loss of breath. his hands pull at your face and neck, trying to squish your face against his as he swallows every whimper and gasp for breath you expel.

• just as he pulls away to get oxygen, his thumb slides between your lips and presses against your tongue, your hot and heavy breath driving him wild.

• "are you really trying to do this to me?" he asks as your lips wrap around his finger, sucking gently. his eyes flutter shut and he groans, nodding downward with his head.

• "maybe," you quietly reply through his finger, sinking to your knees in front of him, sliding your hands up his outer thighs. you're perfectly in line with his crotch, but your eyes are too busy admiring the flustered actor above you as he looks down his nose. he pulls his thumb away, groaning at the thin trail of saliva that falls down your lip from the loss.

• "i'll teach you a lesson," he reaches for his belt buckle, the clinking of metal dulling every sense but your hearing.

• you can study later... probably.

[lavishl0ve]

hi guys!! i’ve lowk been to a slytherin boys kick (ml, mattheo riddle lol) and decided to write a little about him. I haven’t posted in a while but i might as well share for any of the other girlies which enjoy just as much mattheo as me. Enjoy 💋🫶

(Sorry to my Johnny Slaughter stans)

OH i also take any story ideas if you wanna send me a dm 🙏

⚠️ Story Context: Fighting between you and Riddle was never unordinary, but that was until this night where it turned physical…

This Friday night played out as it always did, no studies on weekends which meant party time. A decent gathering but nothing too impressive. (As per invite from Pansy). Perhaps 200 students, flashing neon lights that gave you a headache after what was a couple too many drinks, and always losing trace of Mattheo Riddle- your boyfriend. He’d always seemed glued to a corner, puffing something into the air, whether it was outside or with Theo it never really made a difference. He would do it. Over, over, and over again, and each time he’d come back to your dorm, many hours after the party he specifically brought you to, he’d always smell like something. Cigarettes, weed, alcohol, as long as it was a substance there was a chance. Some days he’d even show up with fresh bruises or blood running from some open wound. But tonight it would be different.

Partying takes a toll on everyone every once in a while, for you it was today. You find yourself slumped on the corner sofa near Enzo and Pansy- your closest friends. Leaning your head on Enzo’s shoulder you watch Pansy down shot after shot. You roll over slightly- your back now pressed against Enzo’s side for a better view. Common chatter with Pansy subsides before she runs off to the dance floor with Blaise. You knew the drill, and therefore the rest of the night was filled with mindless, deep, drugged chatter with the also very bored Enzo Berkshire. It wouldn’t be long before the blasted music started to make your ears ring; You went back to your dorm.

The cycle continued, you lay sprawled out on your bed in your sweaty makeup and the somewhat kept hair you curled earlier this evening staring at the ceiling on those cold silk sheets that felt so nice under your warm sickly feeling skin- this moment always made you feel disgusted. You knew what was about to come. And with that sudden thought an intoxicated Mattheo barges through the door.

Physically, it was worse tonight. You could see the redness in his eye, the stumble in his walk and the stench coming off from him.

He leans over you, planting a light kiss on your cheek before taking a inhale…

“You fucking whore.” He scoffs, muttering under his breath.

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion, tilting your head to find some sort of understanding from his actions.

“Don’t give me that look,” Mattheo says- voice rising, “I can smell him all over you.”

You take a whiff of your clothes, Enzo's cologne. It had rubbed onto your dress.

“Oh god Mattheo, it’s Berkshire’s!” You argue,

“Yeah right.” He laughs, shaking his head.

“Don’t be like that Mattheo, YOU were the one that ditched me at that party. At Least he was good enough to not leave me there-“ you pause, “And what did you do? Get intoxicated enough to not even realize your best friend's cologne?!”

Tensions filled the air.

Mattheo strides around the room, pacing at your sharp words before taking a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. Even the way he puffed the smoke showed his anger.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, “Sometimes it’s like you’re not even my boyfriend anymore..” you sigh.

Your sudden denying of his love for you triggered something in him, he suddenly lunged at you, gripping deep into your shoulder, “Don’t you ever say that again-“ A pooling sensation grows in your left shoulder,

You glance, his lit cigarette scorched into your soft skin. You yelp in defiance. That only resulted in him tightening his grip.

“You know I’d do fucking anything for you!” He hisses through teeth.

With that sentence he pushes you back from his grip onto the bed you had lay on.

You curl up, gripping the shoulder which he burned- finding zero comfort in the cold silk sheets. It felt like fire erupted within your skin, screaming to tear your flesh apart for a single slice of air.

After longing moments Mattheo's busy mind notices your quiet cries, in the same position he’d left you. Something was wrong- and he noticed it now sobering him up.

His shadow appeared at your side. Mattheo Riddle has always had a violent reputation… but he’d never done anything to you. Until now.

You flinch at his approach- hiding your face away from his gaze. His cold hand reaches out to your right shoulder, turning you toward him slightly as he brushes pieces of your hair aside. He glances at the glistening trails gliding down your once done face.

“Wha- wha-“ He mutters,

Mattheo Riddle couldn't form a sentence. Abnormal.

A flicker of desperation ran through his gaze trying to understand the pain point of your crying.

Mattheo narrowed your body slightly toward him more when he saw it. He ran his calloused hands delicately over the reddening burn four times- almost like he couldn’t believe it. The crumpled cigarette on the bed focuses into his view. You sense his breath hitch at his realization- his touch twitching on your skin.

You tilt your head up slightly towards him, his unfocused look on the burn along with his rapid breathing delivered a difference in his demeanor.

You reach out to his tightening palm which he cusped on his thigh, with your contact it seemed like a broken spell. Mattheo dark eyes instantly refocused onto yours searching within them for a sign of sincerity, he cupped your face within his hands,

“I’m so sorry..” his voice cracked,

You nod slightly at his apology as he places a strong hand on the back of your head bringing you into his grasp.

He muttered “I'm so sorry” over and over again like a constant record, almost like you’d never forgive him for the horror he brought upon you.

But you knew you would.

Because you always have.

[sirmidezz]

John Rambo x reader (platonic)

Prompt: John Rambo reminiscing over his childhood after witnessing some drunk dude yell at a cashier.

I honestly got impatient even though I barely posted my small essay not even 10 minutes before writing this, anyways come eat your food kids, ya get a full course in the span of one day.

Warnings: Trauma, PTSD, Child abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, Foul language.

It was grocery day, every once a month when John got out of the house. The only time John ever left the house, unless it was to go to work. (Y/N) stayed at home to clean, trusting that John would be ok in town by himself this time.

John glanced down at the list, reading over all he needed to get before grabbing a shopping cart and heading out to the aisles. John insisted that he would remember every thing (Y/N) said they needed, that he didn't need to carry around a list, but (Y/N) was persistent.

John managed to finish getting most of what the list said in a short amount of time, as he was about to grab his 3rd to last item he noticed some yelling from the front of the store where the cashier's were. Curiosity got the best of John and he went over to see what was going on.

Some drunk man was yelling at the cashier about the price range on his six pack of beer and jar of pickles, trying to negotiate with the cashier and getting livid when his attempt failed.

John rolled his eyes slightly and continued back to his shopping spree. Before johnny could fully leave the area the man let out a scream and chucked the jar of pickles to the floor while spitting out profanities.

Suddenly the hairs on John's arms stood up, he froze slightly, a small memory passing through his mind, one he thought he could forget since it had been so long, one that seemed to set him on edge, one just as painful as any other memory he dared not to reminisce over.

In the blink of an eye John found himself driving back to the house, forgetting the groceries. He didn't think he would remember those times, those times before Vietnam, when the war was inside his own house.

"You worthless piece of shit! Can't even sweep the floors right! Just like your damn mother!" Yelled reeves as he layed hits on a more younger John, knocking him to the floor. John covered his face, not wanting to show that he was crying. "Fucking sissy! Take the fucking hits like a man should! Your not a little bitch your old enough to grow a pair!"

The loud tapping on the window was enough to pull John from his thoughts. (Y/N) Looked into the car, worry all over their face as John managed to zone in and out of reality. "Johnny? Can you hear me?" (Y/N) Spoke softly, a very notable difference from what went on in John's mind.

John managed to get back to his bearings. He had been parked in the driveway of the house for about a good 10 minutes staring off into space. (Y/N) Went over to the passenger side and opened the door. John didn't say anything, he felt like a small kid again, he felt so weak.

After about a good moment of silence (Y/N) spoke up. "You have been parked out here for some time now, you wanna tell me what is going on?" John shook his head, a stray tear escaping his right eye. (Y/N) Understood, they knew it was best to not push it, especially when John was like this. They couldn't help but at least care for their roomie. "You want a hug?" John nodded this time, feeling safe enough to want to be held.

(Y/N) leaned over and wrapped their arms around John's shoulders. John held them back tightly, burying his face onto their shoulder. John let out silent sobs as (Y/N) consoled him. They just softly rubbed his back in a soothing manner, comforting John the best they could.

Soon John's sobs slowly turned into sniffs. He managed to pull back after some time, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry about the groceries," mumbled John. (Y/N) Softly let out a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it johnny, we have tomorrow. I'm just worried about you, ok? Nothing else bothers me." (Y/N) Then softly cupped John's face, rubbing their thumb slightly. "Let's go back inside, we still have the stuff to make spaghetti, would you like spaghetti?"

John smiled a bit, he couldn't help but feed off the positivity from (Y/N). "I would like spaghetti." Said John before the two got out of the car and went back inside.

As (Y/N) began boiling the water John smiled and looked over to them.

"Thank you (Y/N), for everything."

"Anytime johnny, anytime."

[tiny-raccoon-hands]

Tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing (Even though we know it isn't true) prt. 2

The closer mandatory leave got, the more Johnny seemed to retreat into himself. Zoning out of conversations frequently, sheepishly asking for things to be repeated once again as he laughed and apologized. He always gave some random excuse, each one different than the last. This strange behavior was consistent enough that people were beginning to notice.On one occasion, Ghost had watched Gaz pull Johnny aside, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

They had spoken in voices so soft that it was impossible to know what was said, Johnny had squeezed Gaz's shoulder and laughed in a way that made it feel like someone was dragging a cheese grater against Ghost's heart with how fake it sounded.He expected Gaz to push, to not be fooled by the act Johnny was performing, yet he didn't seem to notice anything wrong with whatever answer Johnny gave him. It frustrated Ghost, because damn it! Why didn't anyone see what he saw? How was everyone so blind to the pain that Johnny was so obviously going through?!Ghost had seen the way Johnny's hands would clench and unclench whenever someone mentioned going back home to their families.

How he had been open to answering questions about his family but had dodged questions about his mother. How every detail about her had been short and to the point whenever someone asked.It all came to a boiling point when it reached late afternoon, Ghost had been heading to his room when he heard Johnny's voice rising in volume from the kitchen. A part of Ghost wanted to ignore it, it wasn't his business and it wasn't in his nature to eavesdrop. Yet the distressed tone that was beginning to seep into Johnny's voice scratched at the back of Ghost's brain unpleasantly.

It was a losing battle, he found himself subconsciously heading towards the commotion before he really made a decision. A quick glance inside told him that Johnny was on the phone with someone who seemed to be screaming into the receiver, judging on how far away Johnny held the phone from his ear. His usually carefree and happy expression was twisted into something cold and empty,"I'm still going to visit, nothings changed....", Johnny had said in response once the screaming stopped.

Apparently what he said was a mistake because whatever was said next made Johnny's eyebrows furrow with hurt and anger, "M'not in charge of that! Yer always making it seem like it's my fault!"More shouting greeted him and Johnny's face fell, blue eyes dimmed, almost like the light was forcefully snuffed out, "I never said that...", He reached up and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, "A disappointment?", He nodded, "I knew ye were gonna say that.", He pulled his hand away and took a deep breath, listening to a long tangent the person on the other line launched into.

Finally Johnny sighed, "Look, I hav'ta go.... Mm.... Alright bye mum.... Ye I... Luv ye too...", With that Johnny put his phone down and buried his face into his arms. It was then that Ghost had decided that he had enough, moving into the kitchen, he made his presence known. Johnny's head shot up in alarm, red rimmed blue eyes wide with shock.

[timaeusterrored]

(Something I was thinking about today✨)

Vax hadn’t been answering his phone. Not necessarily uncommon but normally he warned Kerry before he went into missions like that. He had been rather quiet as well, his smile not reaching his eyes this morning. Not wanting to get out of bed. He understood that feeling all too well.

Guadalupe had called him around five saying V had been in Jackie’s garage all day. Now he was asleep in his room. Kerry jumped to check what day it was, maybe it was that time all ready. But it wasn’t, V was just having an off day and needed to feel close to his brother. Kerry also understood that.

Kerry pulled into the Welles residence, V’s bike nowhere to be seen. Most likely in the garage. It was raining now, and Kerry hauled it inside.

Mama Welles was waiting for him in the living room with a shoe box in her lap. God he hadn’t seen something like that in years. A shoe box full of pictures.

“He’s still sleeping, I’ve been checking on him every 30 minutes or so. Something happen?” She was fair in thinking Kerry fucked up and sent her son into a spiral of silence, but as far as Kerry knew, he hadn’t done anything to upset Vax.

“Not that I know of?” He said softly, looking towards the stairs where his partner was somewhere upstairs.

“Sit with me, want to show you something.” She said, patting the space next to her. Even at his age, it was weird being alone with the woman that would possibly be his mother-in-law someday.

He sat next to her, and was offered a picture. He was greeted with a picture of V, his hair a dark blue, baby face and clean shaven, the beginnings of his snake tattoo on his side. He couldn’t help but smile a bit, seeing V so young and full of life, that smile Kerry loved so much on his face. V smiled like Johnny now… it was unsettling. But not a dealbreaker.

“He was about 18 in that picture, Vik gave me some of his old pictures since I had requested them. Wanted pictures of my other boy that’s not a mugshot.” Kerry’s eyes immediately went to the hilarious mugshot of his mainline above the TV for all to see. He looked so serious for a guy that had neon green hair at the time. Kerry shook his head.

“Figured you may like this one.” The next one he got was a picture of V and Jackie asleep on the couch, the two in a weird position of V basically smothering Jackie with his legs, sound asleep in a Second Conflict tank. He still had that tank top somewhere, mostly used it for painting and fixing the cars. His tattoo on his left arm was completed then, and the swirls on his hands were coming into place.

“And another.” This one took Kerry of guard, V was younger in it, maybe sixteen, with a broken and bloody nose with a big smile on his face. He was wearing a Samurai shirt in that one. “That was his first boxing match.” She said softly, chuckling.

Sometimes it hit Kerry that he’d never get to know this V. Yeah he was a kid in these pictures, but the ones with Jackie and his other friends pre-relic… he’d never know that V. His smile was different, his eyes held a light he didn’t have now. He loved his V yes, but he’d never get to know pre-relic V…

He looked up when he heard the stairs creaking, and his V came into the living room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was wearing a shirt that was way too big for him and a pair of sweats that must’ve been his that was still here from his time living here. He blinked at the sight of Kerry Eurodyne sitting on his mom’s couch, just… there.

“Hey…” he croaked out, his voice hoarse with sleep. He walked over, curling up next to Kerry. Then slowly looked at them.

“What the hell are you doing?” He asked, the pictures of V sitting on Kerry’s lap.

“You got to see and have pictures of me, I get to see pictures of you.”

“But-“

“No buts. You have a picture of me with a full mullet tucked behind the steering wheel of the Caliburn.” Kerry accused, making his partner deflate.

“But these are cringy.” V whined, picking up one.

“Yeah I think that’s the point. All parents have cringy pictures of their children to share with their partners.”

Kerry could still sense something was off with his partner, but just kissed his temple and enjoyed his moans and groans when Kerry was given pictures to admire of V’s youth.

“Such a cutie.” Kerry pinched his cheek teasingly when Mama Welles put the pictures away.

“You boys wanna stay for dinner? I have stuff to make your favorite.” Mama Welles smiled when V perked up.

“Zuppa Tuscana?” He asked, hopeful.

Mama Welles nodded and he looked at Kerry with those big eyes he could never say no too. “Like I could ever say no to you.” He said softly, kissing his nose.

V settled back, resting his head in Kerry’s lap and turned the TV on. Delicious smells came from the kitchen while the two waited, Kerry playing with his hair. He watched V more than the actual TV.

He had seen everything before, nothing new on TV or music… but V was a sight to behold, his light in his darkest hour. He quietly reached down and played with the engagement ring on V’s finger, making the merc smile a bit. His own smile.

[violetlilysunshine]

7,500 words??? Is that your longest chapter yet?? Good on ya!!

“Just remember,” he said. “You could’ve just spread those legs for me.”

God it really must suck for him to know that he only gets girls in bed because he pays for it in money or promotions or jewelry or whatever… no one actually wants him for his personality. That’s gotta be a low blow. I bet he drives one of those dumb trucks with the HUGE wheels or some souped up luxury car with no muffler to piss everyone off around him and when either of those cars pass you, you know the driver is compensating for their small penis.

Dean nodded, sighing through his nose. His hand rubbed up and down your back, whether to comfort you or himself, you didn’t know. Your fingers curled into his shirt, and you smiled up at him, just before you tugged him down for a kiss.

Physical touch, physical touch, physical touch. Now every time I read something in this story with physical touch I can’t help but think I crossed your mind at least a little bit when writing it 😂😂😂 even if that is self-centered of me 😬

You let out a breath, and you could see it on the December chill in the air. Your hands were tucked into your pockets, and so were Dean’s in his.

I would totally have my arm looped around his while his hand was in his pocket and be holding his bicep with the other. There would be no way I wasn’t clinging to this man while walking at night

Even after he watched you get inside your house safely, he let out a subtle breath before he peeled away. He wished you were coming home with him tonight. More often, he was feeling your absence when you weren’t in his bed. But it also reassured him, that he knew you were safe with him and Sam at their apartment.

Ughhhhh I want him just to move in with her already but I do appreciate that this is very much like a real relationship and not fanfic-y or movie-esque in the way that what you want to happen always happens and things in the relationship happen way faster than they ever would/could IRL

Sam started to shake his head, but Dean wouldn’t have it.

Literally until just now I’d forgotten that Sam was a lawyer and he’s who she was referring to when she said she new a good lawyer to Nick 😂

These were the what ifs that kept plaguing his mind, ever since the party. Sometimes, it added to the catalogue of waking nightmares that wouldn’t let him sleep.

Obsessively worrying about other people is sweet but not very healthy, Dean

When Dean was at work, he couldn’t let the outside world into his mind. All he could let himself focus on was the scene ahead after he put his mask on.

It’s good for him to get out of his mind though! He shouldn’t fixate so much on it!! Sometimes getting out of your head can help clear your perspectives or give you new ideas when you think about he problem later

Dean dove for him. His Halligan clattered away, but he managed to grab onto the man’s sleeve before he disappeared. Gordon grabbed onto Dean’s arm and nearly pulled him down too. Luckily, he managed to grab onto the splintered edge with his other glove-covered hand. He gritted his teeth at the strain of the other man hanging off his shoulder, but he didn’t dare let go.

Makes me think of Johnny in the outsiders 😭😭😭😭

“I know that. But I’m allowed to worry,” you said. Your brows furrowed. “Please don’t get upset at me for that.”

They seem to get grumpy with each other way faster than they used to and I know they’re stressed about other things and their relationship but still, this should be a safe space and concern should be validated and thanked to an extent

He left you in the doorway with tears swimming in your eyes, and he pretended not to notice them.

That’s not like him, somethings off. I know he doesn’t agree with her and doesn’t like the situation but Dean doesn’t make his girl cry and then leave her standing there alone. Not my Dean. Something else is wrong.

Dean’s hand rubbed up and down your back. You eventually had to look away and sigh. You pressed closer to his side, and he wrapped his good arm around your shoulders.

That’s my Dean.

Dean met your gaze, but he couldn’t quite believe you. He was the one who kept pushing his dad for answers, to let him in on this. This was his family’s bullshit, not yours. You didn’t deserve to get dragged into it too.

But Dean, you’ve been through her family’s stuff too…

“Thank you for always being there for me,” you said. He couldn’t see your smile, but somehow, he knew it was there. But he could also hear you sniffle, and feel your body tremble with tears.

I feel like they’re starting to get back to their old selves a little bit. It’s still heavy and there’s some tension there, but at least they seem to be halfway-united again.

Smoke Eater - Part 14

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: Welcome back! Get ready for some more detective work, a pinch of Jo drama, another fire, and the reader finally meets John Winchester...

🔥Series Masterlist

Word Count: 7,500 Tags/Warnings: Angst, fire hazards, threats, and hurt/comfort.

Part 14: “Message in a Bottle”

A week before Christmas, John Winchester left his house for work before the sun had even risen in the sky. It was still dim when he stepped out onto his porch, which is why he didn’t see it at first.

He heard the clink when his boot kicked at something metallic.

He glanced down and found a small badge lying on the ground. He bent to pick it up, and on further inspection, it was a fire department’s badge. A replica, probably, because it had Dean’s number on it: 20579.

The badge was also splattered with blood.

Later at his office, John handed it over to his partner for his inspection.

“It’s actually paint,” John said. “Forensics looked it over. No prints, of course.”

“That’s a shame,” Cas said. His tone was mild, but his face was as grave as John’s as he considered the crimson-stained badge. They stood together in the bullpen of the 84th Precinct.

“And I got this little present a few days ago,” John admitted quietly. He grabbed a folder off his desk and showed Cas its contents: a picture of Sam leaving the courthouse while talking on his cell, climbing into his car. Someone was watching his sons.

“I already have a police detail on him,” John said, heaving a sigh. “I requested approval for Dean’s this morning.”

Cas’s frown was deepening, along with his furrowed brows. “We may need to ask for backup on this.” 

John shook his head. “Rufus won’t give it to us.”

Their esteemed Lieutenant thought John was on a vendetta with a ghost, stirring up a conflict of his own making. He only approved a temporary police detail for Sam, with the condition that John stopped what he was doing, let the Fire Department handle the serial arsonist, and let this blow over.   

But Rufus should’ve known better than that by now. This was personal, and John wouldn’t tolerate these yellow-bellied threats to his family.

“Azazel’s applying pressure, hitting your weak spots,” Cas said, perhaps pointing out the obvious.

“So let’s hit him back, goddamn it,” John growled. He threw down the folder back onto his desk.

“How?” Cas asked. “We still don’t know who Azazel is.”

The other man thought hard, rubbing a hand over his mouth, and feeling the overgrown stubble. He didn’t remember the last time he’d shaved.

“How’s your progress on questioning Savage & Co.?” he asked.

“Stalled. Nick Savage has lawyered up,” said Cas.

His face slackened from frustration to realization. He didn’t seem happy about his next idea, but it looked like he had one.

“Though now that I think of it, we may be able to apply some pressure of our own,” he said.

John raised a brow and crossed his arms. “How’s that?”

“Dean’s girlfriend works there, if you remember,” Cas said. “Something happened this past weekend at her company Christmas party.”

John nodded, despite his frown. He was set to meet you in a week, but it looked like they might need to question you before then. What a pleasant first meeting that was going to be.

But if you had anything on Savage, on the company, or even better, if you were willing to wear a wire, that could be the break they needed to get some headway on this case. They could squeeze Savage for any information he might have on Azazel—like his real identity.

“Tell me,” John said.

You returned to work on Monday with steel in your veins (and a taser in your purse).

You had about an hour of peace in your office, catching up on your emails and calls. Then there was a knock on your door before it pushed open without your consent.

Damn it, should’ve locked it. Your lips pursed when Nick Savage came in.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you said firmly. Already you were opening a drawer in your desk, reaching into your purse.

“It’s my goddamn office,” Nick replied lazily. But he crossed his arms and stopped just behind the spare chair that sat in front of your desk. It gave you a good few feet of distance.

You stared back at the man with hidden satisfaction through your disdain. It seemed Dean’s threats got to him.

“Just thought I’d let you know that Josh’s been promoted to Senior Sales Manager,” Nick said. He checked his watch absently.

Your teeth clicked in irritation, but you let it pass. He was just trying to get a rise out of you, and you no longer gave a fuck about this company anyway. What you told Dean before was the truth: you were now here just to collect a paycheck, until you could find a new job.

“Good. He’s been working hard, kissing your ass,” you said with a fake smile. “Now if you don’t mind, I have a lot of work to do.”

Nick made the mistake of taking a half-step forward. Your hand subtly clenched on the weapon in your purse, but you tried your best to seem relaxed. In control of yourself. This was your office that you’d occupied for three years.

This was your space, and this man didn’t control you.

“Take one step forward, and I will quit today,” you threatened. And then you bluffed.

“I’ll call Mr. Greenway,” you said. “In fact, he offered me a job last month. Then I’ll make a few more calls, and I’ll take all of my accounts with me. I’ll kill your fucking sales team and leave Josh to continue sucking your lackluster tequila dick.”

Nick stared back at you with thinly veiled shock. You’d always been “no nonsense,” but you’d never spoken to him like that before. He smirked.

This was why he liked you. And hated you.

“All right,” Nick said. He didn’t come any closer, but he did rest his hands on the back of the chair. “How about I buy out your friend Greenway. His whole damn company. And then I’ll blacklist you with every other company that calls for a reference. Even the ones that don’t call.”

Your eyes widened incredulously. He had the gall to wink at you, boiling your blood.

“I’ll fucking sue you,” you said, hating the slight tremor in your voice.

Nick rolled his eyes. “This again? Please.”

You couldn’t help it. Your temper snapped, and you pushed away from your desk to stand up. You gripped the edge of it to steady yourself. You quirked a humorless smile.

“As it happens, I know a damn good lawyer,” you countered. “He puts murderers in jail every day. I doubt he’d struggle too much with a corporate asshole. And I’ll remind you, Dean’s father is a police officer. I’m sure he’d like nothing better than to lock you up after I report you for what you did. And I will.”

Nick scoffed at that, his eyes narrowing.

“If you take it there, I’ll have every resource at my disposal to make your life a living hell. I’ll drag this out for years. Until you’ve got nothing but your boyfriend’s charity to keep you from living in a fucking box.”

You were seething, trying to stay in control. He knew it too, and he smirked at you. He pushed away from the chair and started to leave.

But then, he tossed you a smug look over his shoulder.

“Just remember,” he said. “You could’ve just spread those legs for me.”

It took everything you had within you not to hurl a stainless steel stapler at the back of his retreating head.

“A double please, Ellen. Dry, lots of olives,” you requested.

After a ridiculously long day at work, you were now trying to let go of your frustrations at the Roadhouse, while you still had the money to drink. You rubbed through the ache in your temples.

“Long day, hun?” Ellen asked you. Her eyes were sympathetic as she made you the martini you ordered. You gave her an attempt at a smile.

“Long life,” you muttered.

“Hmm. Asshole boss?” she surmised.

You met her gaze with a note of suspicion. “Did Dean tell you…”

You knew he’d told his brother about what happened at the Christmas party. And you had a feeling he’d told Cas as well, to try and see what you could do from a law enforcement standpoint. The first step was filing a report. Now you knew, however, that you couldn’t. Not if you wanted your life to remain in one piece.

“Nothing, hun,” Ellen shook her head. “You’ve just got that look. I reckon every woman in the world has worn that face. Usually because of a man.”

You sighed and chuckled at the same time. It loosened some of the tightness in your shoulders.

“Yeah, well. This one’s a rat bastard in human clothing,” you replied.

“Ooh, sounds like my old biology professor,” Jo chimed in. She was drying out some newly clean glasses behind the counter along with Ellen. “He had a reputation for scoping out freshman girls.”

You made a gagging sound as you reached for the delectable martini glass Ellen slid your way.

“Men are disgusting,” you said. Jo snorted.

“99.8% of them, yeah,” she said. But her gaze drew towards the door when Dean Winchester came in. And she added, “A few of ‘em are all right.”

Was it just you, or was there a softer look in her blue eyes when she noticed Dean?

You were soon distracted though, giving your boyfriend a smile to try and cover up how exhausted you were, in every sense of the word. He greeted you with a warm hand along your lower back. He dropped a kiss to your forehead.

“Waiting long?” he asked.

“No, just a few minutes,” you shook your head. You laid a hand on his thigh when he took a seat next to you at the bar. “How was your shift?”

This week he was on three 12-hour shifts instead of his usual 24-hour shifts, which meant you got more of him in the evening. 

“Fine. Just a couple of accidents to clear off the road, nothing major,” he replied. He ordered a beer from Ellen and gave Jo a smile. He was surprised to see mother and daughter working civilly together under one roof, after the scene he saw last week.

“How’s the studying going?” he asked Jo, once Ellen was out of earshot to serve further down the line. He turned to you and filled you in. “Jo’s gearin’ up to hit the Police Academy.”

“Oh wow, that’s great!” you remarked.

Jo glanced over at her mom, but then she smiled, looking back at you and Dean. She focused on him.

“The test is in a few weeks,” she said. “I think I’m ready, but I don’t know…”

“You’ll be fine,” Dean said, with easy conviction. “You’re stubborn enough to know it’s what you want. So I got no doubts about you.”

Jo’s smile was warm, with a hint of shy and gratefulness. You smiled at Jo encouragingly, but inside, you had a familiar unease churning inside your gut.

Dean then turned to you with expectant brows. His fingers brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, curling it behind your ear.

“And how was your day?” he asked. His tone was quieter, laced with double meaning.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jo moving on to another waiting customer with a small sigh.

You met Dean’s gaze and you nodded. “It was fine.”

His brows rose a touch higher. “Very convincing. You took the taser with you, right?”

You sighed and had to smile a little. His concern warmed you, made you feel protected, even though you’d had to do that part yourself today. You soothed a hand over his chest, between the open panels of his plaid shirt.

“Yes, I did. I’m okay, baby. We’re at a standstill,” you said. And you reminded him, “I can handle myself, you know.”

Dean nodded, sighing through his nose. His hand rubbed up and down your back, whether to comfort you or himself, you didn’t know. Your fingers curled into his shirt, and you smiled up at him, just before you tugged him down for a kiss.

It was slow and sweet, until you became a bit more than sweet, grazing his bottom lip with your teeth. His hand came up to cup the back of your head as he accepted the warmth of your kiss.

You knew that you couldn’t tell Dean what happened this morning in your office. He’d likely go for the Halligan in his trunk and beat Nick Savage within an inch of his life.

While the idea appealed to you for several reasons, you didn’t want to be the reason Dean lost his badge, or ended up in jail.

So over a couple of drinks, you distracted him by having a healthy debate over what you two were going to have for dinner later: sushi or pizza.

You ultimately won with sushi. (Or maybe he let you win. Either way, you were getting salmon rolls tonight.)

Still, you had that uneasy feeling when you and Dean left the bar. You wondered how the hell it had taken you this long to notice the starry look of longing in Jo’s eyes.

You fell into step with Dean as you two headed for the sushi restaurant down the street. It was already dark out, but even on a Tuesday night, the streets and sidewalks of downtown were busy.

“Can I ask you something…potentially uncomfy?” you said.

Dean’s head turned to you, with a raised brow.

“Uncomfy?”

You let out a breath, and you could see it on the December chill in the air. Your hands were tucked into your pockets, and so were Dean’s in his.

“Did you and Jo ever have a thing?” you asked.

Dean blinked, but then his lips pressed together. “What makes you say that?”

You sent him a suspicious look. You’ve known him long enough to know when he’s hedging.

“Just please, answer the question,” you said.

He blew out a breath. After a moment, he nodded.

“Yeah, for a few weeks,” he admitted.

You sighed. That sure explained a hell of a lot. And really, with his track record, you couldn’t be surprised.

“You dated her, or you hooked up with her?” you clarified. Dean shot you a look.

“Dated,” he said, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

Your brows furrowed. “When?”

He’d told you that he’d been in one relationship before, briefly…

“About a few months before I met you,” he said at last. But he saw the incredulous, almost upset look on your face. “Obviously it didn’t work out.” 

“You couldn’t have told me that earlier?” you asked. Your hands slipped out of your pockets to gesture at him. “How did it end?”

The man sighed, looking up at the sky.

“Come on, Dean,” you prodded.

“All right,” he placated with a hand. “It didn’t end great, put it that way.”

You couldn’t help a frustrated huff. You crossed your arms and kept walking beside him down the street, albeit in silence.

Dean glanced at you in slight exasperation. He was with you now. Why did it matter to you so much?

“She still has feelings for you,” you said, though you still weren’t looking at him.

“How do you figure?” he asked. But if he was honest, even he knew the truth.

“Because I could see her eyeing you like a honey glazed ham,” you snipped. At that, he let out an incredulous chuckle. 

“Are you jealous?” he teased.

You stopped walking and looked up at him, frowning. “Do you want me to be?”

Dean stopped as well. He sobered, realizing you weren’t in the mood for jokes. You’d been through a lot recently, and he knew then that you didn’t need this kind of stress on top of everything else. He drew closer and gently grasped your arms.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. Though he thought to himself, I’ll talk to Jo if I have to.

You sighed in frustration, but he soothed his hands up and down your arms. His touch plied you, along with his smile.

“Hey,” Dean said, dipping his chin so he could catch your eyes. “You should know how I feel about you by now.”

You sighed and nodded in agreement. He wasn’t satisfied.

“Hey,” he said, squeezing your arms and earning your eyes on him. It took him a moment, letting out a breath, but he was honest.

“I love you," he reminded. "And if that damn elevator hadn’t broke down on you, I’d still be missing something.”

…Damn it, you thought, even as a blushing smile grew across your face. Dean Winchester was too smooth for his own good.

But you also saw the sincerity in his eyes. You couldn’t help but be warmed by his words, down to your toes.

“There she is. All right,” he said with a grin. He nodded in satisfaction and gathered you into his arms. “My soft girl again.” 

Your smile deepened, but you still pinched his side, making him flinch and laugh. You held him back and looked up at his handsome face. He still looked amused and his eyes were warm. You leaned up on your toes for a kiss that lingered on wind-chilled lips.

“I love you,” you whispered back, against his lips.

His smile against yours was your answer.

Two hours and two salmon rolls later, Dean drove you home. You had taken an Uber to the Roadhouse, which reminded him that he needed to make another trip to Singer Salvage.

He’d been scoping out potential cars to fix up for you. He’d even recruited Bobby’s help to find something good, something with strong bones. Dean could do the rest.

Even after he watched you get inside your house safely, he let out a subtle breath before he peeled away. He wished you were coming home with him tonight. More often, he was feeling your absence when you weren’t in his bed. But it also reassured him, that he knew you were safe with him and Sam at their apartment.

He later found his brother eating leftover chicken parmesan at the kitchen counter.

“Why’re you eating standing up?” Dean asked, tossing his keys onto the counter. He reached into the fridge for a beer. “You look like Big Bird if he wore a suit.”

Sam sent him a dry look. “I don’t know. Force of habit.”

He barely had time in his day for an uninterrupted coffee, let alone a meal. When Dean wasn’t here, Sam fell back onto his work habits. He took his plate and actually went to the table.

“You eat already?” he asked. Dean nodded and said he’d eaten with you.

“Oh yeah? How’s she doing?” Sam asked.

Dean sighed and sank down heavily onto the chair opposite his brother. He rubbed at his forehead.

“She’s okay, considering,” he replied. But he knew you hadn’t told him the whole story about how your day went at work. Whether you were trying to spare him, or protect him, or yourself, it still drove him up the wall. Knowing Nick Savage was still your boss, and he was there, an ever-present threat just a few floors above you in that building…

It made Dean’s skin crawl. It had his teeth grinding and coiled his spine tight with repressed rage. And worry.

He met his brother’s eyes. Sam had been watching him, hiding his wariness.

“What can we do about him?” Dean asked. He knew he didn’t have to explain who he was talking about.

Sam started to shake his head, but Dean wouldn’t have it.

“I mean it, Sam. Because I almost…” His hand and forearm clenched and unclenched on the table. He could almost feel the way his arm had pressed into Nick’s throat, slowly but surely crushing his trachea. Just a couple of minutes more, and Dean could’ve done it. In that moment, he saw it so clearly.

It was the first time he’d ever wanted to take a man’s life.

“I know,” Sam said. His brows furrowed in sympathy. “But you did the right thing.”

Dean’s lips pursed as his hand once again fisted on the table.

“If I hadn’t been there,” he said. “If I had been just a few minutes off…”

These were the what ifs that kept plaguing his mind, ever since the party. Sometimes, it added to the catalogue of waking nightmares that wouldn’t let him sleep.

“And now she’s gotta go back there, every day, where that animal is just waiting for an opportunity,” Dean gritted out. Then his fist dropped more heavily onto the table, rattling Sam’s silverware.

Sam held the table steady and looked at his brother, calm but firm.

“You can’t touch Savage,” he said. “Don’t even go near him. Whatever you do, he’ll use it against you, and potentially against her. Unfortunately, she’s got the best plan right now.”

Dean looked up at him with angry eyes.

“Wait him out,” Sam said, “until he makes a mistake he can’t easily cover up. In the meantime, she’ll find a new job and get the hell out of there.”

Dean forced a sharp breath through his nose. He leaned back in his chair and tapped his fist more calmly on the table.

“I don’t have to like it,” he said.

Sam nodded in agreement. “No, you don’t.”

The fire was wild. It was eating up the four-story apartment building in a full blaze. The Truck 79 team was geared up outside of it, with Chief Singer already calling out instructions along with Dean.

Benny and the Rescue Squad were already on the roof, rappelling down to get the ones trapped on the top floors out through the windows. Dean was on the ground. He had Gordon, Jack, and a few others behind him. Meg and Chuck were on standby, waiting for the firefighters to pull out any residents still trapped inside.

Dean had to wonder if he was walking into another arson, like the Richardson fire. Against his will, he thought of that day. He thought about everything his father had told him about that arson, about Azazel and his mom’s death. He thought about you, working for a man who was potentially tied to Azazel.

“Winchester,” Gordon tapped him on the arm. “You good?”

Dean glanced over at him, then nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s rock and roll.”

When Dean was at work, he couldn’t let the outside world into his mind. All he could let himself focus on was the scene ahead after he put his mask on.

Inside the first floor of the building was like entering a living furnace. It was hot as shit, and layers of smoke choked the room. The mask was the only reason Dean could see, let alone breathe.

He turned to Jack. “All right, take it room by room. Stay close. We don’t got a lot of time.”

Jack nodded his agreement, and Dean split his team. A few of the others took the first floor on his orders. Dean, Gordon, and Jack would take the old stairs to clear the second floor.

Fuck. This whole place is just wood and plaster, Dean thought, shaking his head. These old buildings were all the same. Easy to build, easy to knock down. And usually they weren’t up to code, often thanks to cheap property owners.

He got apartment 201 open with his Halligan. The shoebox studio was smokey as all hell, but it was clear of any tenants. Gordon moved on ahead quickly, but Dean’s brows furrowed as he listened to the unsteady creaking of the floorboards. He moved more carefully forward.

Until he felt the warmth under his boots, saw the orange glow underneath a thin patch of flooring.    

“Walker, wait!” Dean called, at the same time he held Jack back.

He reached out, just as the wood floor splintered and broke underneath Gordon. His eyes flashed wide just before he fell.

Dean dove for him. His Halligan clattered away, but he managed to grab onto the man’s sleeve before he disappeared. Gordon grabbed onto Dean’s arm and nearly pulled him down too. Luckily, he managed to grab onto the splintered edge with his other glove-covered hand. He gritted his teeth at the strain of the other man hanging off his shoulder, but he didn’t dare let go.

Jack grabbed Dean’s belt to keep him from sliding further down. It let him grab onto Gordon with both hands. The men panted for breath; Dean had a better vantage point to see that the middle of the ground floor below was engulfed in flames. The glow of it flared in the corner of Gordon’s eyes. He could feel the heat making both of them sweat.

The wood flooring under Dean creaked ominously, but before anyone could move, it broke further. He almost lost his grip on Gordon as his torso hung over the edge. He managed to get a new stronghold under the other man’s arm, and Jack did his best to keep Dean from falling by pinning his legs down. Jack was strong, but he was still a smaller man than Dean.  

“Jack, call for backup!” Dean gritted out. Jack nodded behind him and radioed in for help.

Gordon stared up at Dean with wide, but resigned eyes. “The floor’s gonna cave before you can pull me up.”

Dean stared down at him, even as lines of sweat poured down his forehead from within his mask. They both knew that if that happened, Dean would be pulled along for the ride down, maybe even Jack too. Dean gave a sharp shake of his head.

“Just hold on. Backup’s comin’,” he said. All his strength was going into keeping a firm grip on the man’s arm and jacket. He called to Jack over his shoulder. “Can you get next to me and grab him?”

To his credit, Jack tried. But the jagged edges of the floor around Dean were unsteady, creaking and groaning under Jack’s added weight, a bit too much.

“Stop, stop!” Dean shouted, halting Jack’s movements.

Gordon licked his dry lips and blinked sweat out of his eyes. “This might be the part where you let go, Winchester.”

Dean took exactly a beat to process his shock. Then he glared down at the man.

“Shut the hell up, Walker. You don’t let go, you hear me?” he barked. “Jack, grab the back of my jacket and my belt.”

Jack followed the order, and a combination of him pulling Dean up and Dean straining every muscle he had to heft up Gordon slowly, painfully, brought them back up and over the ledge.

Jack had an easier time then of helping Dean pull Gordon the rest of the way out of the hole.

And the rest of their Truck crew came to help them onto their feet, before the fire consumed the rest of the second floor.

Once Dean was out of the building, he took off his mask and breathed in cooler air on his face. He made a beeline for the fire truck. In the back was a cooler, and grabbed a bottle of water to dump over his overheated head and face while he caught his breath. Gordon and Jack were following suit, and the men stared and one another. All of their faces said the same thing.

We made it. We’re alive. That was almost fucked.

Gordon’s gaze met Dean’s, sobering further. For a moment, he looked like he was searching for words.

“How’s your shoulder?” he asked eventually.

Dean nodded, rotating his right arm. He was going to feel that bitch tomorrow.

“Fine,” he said. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Gordon nodded. Another hesitation, followed by an honest gaze. “Thanks, Lieutenant.”

Dean’s face broke into a smile, wry but also genuine. “Yeah, thank me by layin’ off the burgers.”

He swatted the other man’s stomach and went for three more waters. He handed two of them to Jack and Gordon. One was smiling, while the other just smirked and shook his head.

“You callin’ me hefty?” Gordon remarked. “I’m averaging 6% body fat, man.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, right. What’re you, the Rock? That’s why you almost sunk.”

He dropped his fist into the air and made an exploding sound. Jack was wide-eyed, but Gordon just chuckled. They started making their way to the front of the truck to start packing up their gear. The Truck and Rescue teams had done what they could, and all the residents that made it out of the building were being seen to by the paramedics.

“I’d rather be weighed down by muscle than all them Little Debbie’s you’ve been putting away at the station,” Gordon shot back. “Cheap cake is not your friend.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “All right, that’s just uncalled for.”

“Dean,” Chief Singer called, beckoning him over with a hand. His free hand wore a glove as he held something steaming.

Dean nodded at his men and joined Bobby outside his department-issued SUV. Dean’s gaze focused on the bottle-shaped object in Bobby’s hand. There was a small digital box attached to the front, with wires wrapped around. The entire device was now blackened, but the smell of chemicals was unmistakable.

“Molotov cocktail?” Dean quipped, but his face was as grave as Bobby’s. The Chief nodded.

“Lafitte pulled this out of the fourth floor,” he said. “Looks like the same kind of incendiary device Arson found at the Richardson fire.” 

That night, you made dinner for Dean at your house. He was forced to explain what happened at the apartment building, and why he had his arm pinned to his side like a chicken wing. You made him sit down and relax, all while you tried to hide your worry and relief that he was mostly all right.

Later in the living room, you sat on your knees beside him on the couch and lifted the bag of ice from his shoulder. You peered at it in concern, gently rubbing your hand over the joint and surrounding muscle. Dean sighed through his nose as your gentle touch was both soothing and painful.

“Are you sure you should do another shift tomorrow?” you asked, replacing the ice. He shot you a glance.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Right,” you said dryly. “That’s why you can barely move this arm.”

Dean rolled his eyes and made his point by raising his right arm, slowly, but easily back down.

“I’ll be up and running by tomorrow. Just need a good night’s sleep.”

“Dean, are you sure? You seem to be in a lot of pain,” you asked.

He tried to hold in his annoyance. “I think I’d know if I’m fine.”

“You forget, I know all too well what downplaying looks like,” you countered, giving him a chiding look. Dean didn’t appreciate it. He didn’t need you to mother him.

“This is my job, all right,” he said.

You gave him a steady look. Your hand moved up his shoulder to rest along the back of his neck. Your fingers slipped into his hair.

“I know that. But I’m allowed to worry,” you said. Your brows furrowed. “Please don’t get upset at me for that.”

Dean let out a breath. He relaxed against the couch and met your gaze. He knew he had no right to ask you not to worry about him.

“Yeah, okay,” he said.

To you, he still seemed a bit annoyed. You nodded and continued to gently sift your fingers through his hair. You had to wonder if his resentment was coming from a different place.

“Are you still mad at me for going back to work?” you tested.

Dean breathed out deeper this time, but he didn’t answer.

Bingo, you thought with a frown.

“Dean—”

“All I want is for you to be safe,” he said. His voice was harder as his face tightened up. His hand gestured in frustration. “This whole thing…that fucking douchebag…it’s killing me. Fucking killing me. And you know that.”

Your eyes softened, and you unconsciously bit your lip.

“Ditto,” you tried to joke. It landed flat, because your boyfriend was deadly serious.

He looked away from you with pursed lips and a frustrated shake of his head. You sidled closer to him and tried to soothe, with a hand on his chest.

“Look, I’m trying to find a new job, but it takes time,” you said.

“You could quit. You could quit right now,” Dean replied hotly.

You sighed; you couldn’t believe you had to remind him about this. “I can’t, Dean. I have bills to pay, just like you do. You think I like this situation any more than you? I’m the one who’s had to deal with this for months!” 

“I know that!” Dean snapped back. “Or should I say, now I do.”

He pulled away from your touch and pushed off the couch, onto his feet. You looked up with your mouth agape as he left the room. You got up and followed after him.

“You’re leaving?” you asked in shock. You watched him grab his keys and his wallet from the kitchen counter.

“I’ve got a long shift tomorrow and I gotta sleep,” Dean said, rather gruffly.

You followed him all the way to the door, where you grabbed onto his wrist. He stopped in the doorway, glancing back at you over his shoulder.

“Dean, please,” you implored. “Don’t go like this.”

After a beat, he seemed to soften. Just enough to lean over and press a brief kiss to the side of your head.

“I gotta go.”

He left you in the doorway with tears swimming in your eyes, and he pretended not to notice them.

When Dean woke up the next morning, his shoulder still ached, and he still felt guilty. He rubbed the offending join and tried to slowly roll the stiffness out of his arm. Fuck.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes next. They blearily took in the digital numbers on his alarm clock: 5:00 a.m.

He slid out of bed and got ready for work. He definitely wanted to check in with Arson about the device that likely started that fire, and he knew his dad would need to be brought in on it. It would give Dean a reason to press John for an update on his investigation.

By 6:00, he was finishing his coffee, about ready to head over to the station. He could hear the pipes running, meaning Sam was in the shower.

Dean was startled only slightly by his phone vibrating in his pocket. His brows furrowed, but he fished it out and found your name crossing the screen, along with a smiling picture of you. He sighed.

Part of him hesitated. If you were calling just to try and convince him to call out of work, he was going to get worked up again. And he’d rather not have anything disturb his first cup of coffee of the day.

Still, he answered. “Hey.”

“Dean, did you come into the house last night?” you asked.

He didn’t like the wary, almost scared tone of your voice.

“No.” His brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Look at the text I just sent you.”

He put you on speaker so he could check his messages. Sure enough, he found a picture from you. It was of a glass bottle-shaped object on your nightstand. There was a black box attached, but its digital screen was blank. Dean’s breath caught in his lungs as his eyes widened. His heart dropped into his stomach.

“Dean, what is this thing?” you asked. Your voice was shakier, more worried. “It looks like a bomb. And it smells awful, like chemicals.”

“Don’t touch it,” he said quickly. “Get out of the house…better yet, wait for me at your neighbor’s place. I’m coming over right now.”

And I’m calling Dad.

Dean tried his best to calm you while the police and the Arson Department swept your entire house for devices, fingerprints, and any other evidence on who broke in.

You had a hand over your mouth by the front door as you watched them turn over cushions, move tables and shelves, ruck through cabinets. Your entire life turned inside out.

Dean’s hand rubbed up and down your back. You eventually had to look away and sigh. You pressed closer to his side, and he wrapped his good arm around your shoulders.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he said quietly, and kissed the top of your head. Inside, he was furious. Mostly at himself.

If anything had happened to you last night, after he left…he would’ve never forgiven himself.

So it was a welcome distraction when John and Cas’s police car finally pulled into the driveway. Dean led you outside, away from the chaos happening in your house.

“Hey, Dad,” he said, with a nod at Cas. Both men nodded back.

“Son,” John greeted, His brown eyes turned to you next. He offered you a hand. “Good to finally meet you, despite the circumstances.”

You blinked up at him and curled a stray strand of hair behind your ear, a bit nervously.

“Oh, it’s…it’s great to meet you, Mr. Winchester,” you said, sticking out your hand and shaking his.

A smile flickered across Dean’s lips. He realized then that this was the first time you were meeting his father. You were adorably nervous.

A reserved smile tugged at his father’s lips as well.

“John’s just fine.”

You smiled back, with a bit of a blush tinging your cheeks.

“Now, can you tell me what happened here?” John asked you, not unkindly.

Dean’s good humor faded away as he explained about the device left on your nightstand. He filled them in about the fire he’d responded to yesterday as well.

“What the hell is happening, Dad?” he demanded to know.

John let out a breath and nodded, swiping a hand through his dark hair.

“It’s another one of Azazel’s signatures,” he said, lowering his voice so only the four of them could hear. “It’s a message.”

“To who?” Dean asked.

“To me,” John said. “Warning me to back off the case…there’ve been other threats. I’ve finally got a police detail on Sam, and I just got approval for you. I’ll add her to the list.”

John glanced at you. Your eyes widened in confusion as you tried to hold in your fear.

“Who the hell is Azazel?” You turned to Dean. “Is this…does this have something to do with your mom’s killer?”

John’s brows shot up at his son. “You told her?”

“You’re over here talking about him too,” Dean retorted. He gathered you closer and met his father with steely eyes, to mask how his gut was churning with worry.

“You need to get this guy,” Dean said, almost through gritted teeth. “Get him now.”

John agreed with a nod.

Once again, you covered a trembling hand over your mouth. Dean squeezed your side a bit to earn your attention.

“I want you to come stay with me,” he said. His tone was boding no argument, not that you would. You nodded and fairly melted against him. Your head rested against his chest.

“Dean, this is insane,” you whispered.

He nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I know. I’m sorry…I’m so fucking sorry about this.”

You looked up at him, your brows furrowing. “It’s not your fault.”

Dean met your gaze, but he couldn’t quite believe you. He was the one who kept pushing his dad for answers, to let him in on this. This was his family’s bullshit, not yours. You didn’t deserve to get dragged into it too.

The spell between you two was broken by Cas, awkwardly clearing his throat.

“We do need to ask you some questions,” he said. “About Nick Savage.”

You frowned. You peeled yourself away from Dean enough to face the detectives.

“What does he have to do with this?” you asked.

“His company is linked to a money laundering scheme, which ultimately leads back to Azazel,” Cas explained. “But we’re having trouble getting through his wall of lawyers.”

You scoffed. “Not surprising.”

However, it did worry you that Nick was possibly doing business with a criminal. Not that that should surprise you either. 

“What do you want to know?” you asked.

“Well, first of all, would you be willing to file a police report,” Cas said, more gently, “regarding your assault at his home.”

Your eyes widened. Your mouth fell open slightly before you looked over at Dean. His face tightened, along with his hand on the curve of your waist.

“Why do you need me to do that?” you asked Cas.

“It’ll give us the leverage we need to dig deeper into his business,” John said. “Knock loose any shady dealings. We could get him to cough up what he knows about Azazel.”

You wanted to help, but at the same time, you were reluctant to mire yourself deeper in this. Dean saw your reservations, and he could guess why.

“Won’t that just paint a bigger target on her back?” he asked.

“We’re gonna protect her,” John promised. His eyes went from Dean, back to you. “But we need your help. This could be the break we need to get to Azazel. To find out who this bastard is.”

John could see your indecision. “All you need to do is fill out the report. Maybe get up in court to testify.”

You tightened up at that. “Testify?”

“If it gets that far,” John nodded.

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head. “That man can make my life hell without a serial killer’s help.”

You looked to Dean for support.

In the beginning, he had all but begged you to do what his father and Cas were asking. But now, this was just too much. He pressed you more securely to his side.

“Dean?” his father prodded.

“You heard her,” Dean said. “It’s her choice.”

You sighed and held onto the back of his shirt gratefully. The detectives shared a look, with John’s brows furrowing. He regarded you with a gruff, slightly strained look.

“Listen, don’t you want Savage in a cold hard cell?” he asked. “You could put him there.”

“Dad, she said no. Lay off,” Dean’s tone sharpened. Unfortunately, he knew how stubborn the man could be.

“Dean, I’m trying to nail this guy, but I’m missing pieces,” John said. “Right now, I can’t do it without her.”

“Well, figure it out,” Dean snapped.

John frowned in near disbelief. "Excuse me?"

“Look, I know where your priorities are, but mine is making sure she’s safe," said Dean. "If you can’t handle that, then we’ve got a problem!”

The strength of his retort took everyone by surprise, but no one more so than John. He hid it well behind a deepening frown.

He glanced between you and his son. You were looking up at Dean with unshed tears in your red-rimmed eyes, grateful, and holding on tight to his shirt. He still held you to him. His entire frame was tight and angry.

And John knew that he would react the same way, if he were Dean. He also knew then that he was pushing too hard.

So he sighed, and pulled out a card from his wallet. He handed it to you.

“I’m sure you’ve got Cas’s number already, but here’s mine,” said John. “Call me if you change your mind.”

“I’m sorry for invading,” you told Sam that night. He was helping you and Dean bring in your suitcases. You were pretty much moving into their apartment, indefinitely.

“You’re not,” Sam said, shaking his head. “We’re happy to have you here.”

You gave him a tired, thankful smile. “I appreciate that, thanks.”

“We’ll get to have an in-house chef,” Dean chimed in, earning more amused look from you.

“Need I remind you that I’m not an actual chef?” you said. You set down your smaller suitcase, full of shoes and toiletries, to grasp the front of his shirt. You leaned up on your toes and met him with a kiss. It was sweet, but it was also tender. His arms came around your lower back and pulled you flush against him.

He parted from you gently, afterwards pressing his forehead against yours. He let out a brief sigh through his nose.

“I’m sorry, about how I left last night,” he said.

You shook your head, despite the tears that wanted to burn in your eyes. You wanted to tell him, It’s fine. I’m fine.

But you couldn’t lie to him.

“You came back when I needed you,” you said instead. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”

You felt his fingers tangle in your hair, his hand resting along the back of your neck. It was familiar, and soothing.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted you to move in,” he admitted. You chuckled wryly.

“Really,” he said. “…I was thinking of asking you. But not ‘til, you know, down the line.”

You softened at that. You raised up on your toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then you circled your arms around his neck and hugged him close. He held you back just as tightly.

“Thank you for always being there for me,” you said. He couldn’t see your smile, but somehow, he knew it was there. But he could also hear you sniffle, and feel your body tremble with tears.

“You’re safe here,” Dean said softer into your ear. “Nothing’s getting to you, all right?”

 You nodded, pressing your face into his neck. He continued to say and do whatever he felt he had to in order to reassure you that night, and make you feel safe.

All the while, he was trying to reassure himself.

AN: *burrr* That tension, huh? What did you think of her finally finding out about Jo's lingering feelings, plus a bit of Dean's resentment, him and Gordon coming to an understanding, and the reader meeting John for the first time! 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Good news though. Next time, we'll take a huge break from all this drama and have a nice fluffy Christmas special. (Plus a healthy dose of spice. ❤️‍🔥)

Next Time:

You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.

Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”

“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.

You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.

You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”

He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.

“Well, if you’re offering…”

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[ravenmichaelisstuff]

Part 1

Part 2

I think A LOT about Soap trying to give back the childhood Ghost lost. (Part 3)

When a perfect opportunity to bring some of his childhood to Ghost accured he decided to act.

They were on mission the day before, Soap was cleaning out an area while Ghost was keeping an eye on him with a sniper. They didn't get injured or anything like that, but Soap took his sweet time to finish the mission and Ghost had to sit in one position for a couple of hours looking at every move the sergeant made. He didn't mind then.

But men did Ghost's back hurt after. He was always kind of tense, Soap knew that. But today Ghost was huffing and puffing everytime he as much got up from a chair. Even Price told him to "Lie the fuck down". Ghost of course said that he was fine, but when they all went on their evening training Ghost excused himself quite quickly. This was very out of characters because usually he was the last one to leave and the one who made Soap push his limits.

Soap decided to follow after Ghost not too long after, going straight to lieutenant's room. He just walked in, eyes on the floor like always. Just in case Ghost doesn't have his mask on. Soap knows he is unbearable, but he would never let himself break the trust Ghost gave him with being disrespectful. It's not like Soap was clueless, he was aware that if it was anybody else just barging in Simon's room, that person would be greeted with a knife to their skull. Soap was greeted with an exasperated groan. Soap lifted his gaze when met with no protests.

Ghost was lying in bed on his stomach, face burried in pillows- maskless. Soap quickly looked down.

"Ghost! Yer mask!"

"You are the one who walked in here, like it's your room." Ghost said, voice muffled by the fabric.

"Well yeah! But you always tell me BEFORE I actually look at ye."

"You saw nothing, you won't get a lot of my face from looking at the back of my head. I am not moving, you can look"

Soap hesitantly looked up. "So... Everything is fine huh?"

"Fine and dandy" He muttered.

Soap refused to accept those words as the truth. He rolled his eyes seizing the opportunity that Ghost weren't looking. He walked up to him and carefully put his hand at the base of Ghost's nape. He gave him time to move away and when he didn't, Soap put all his body weight on his arm.

Ghost groaned and grabbed Soap's arm tightly.

"I can feel how you are perfectly fine."

"You are certainly not helping, Soap."

"But ah could be! You just have to let me." The Scott pulled out his hand from Ghost's grasp.

"I am not rubbing my back with this stinking magic alcohol you try to force on everyone."

Soap made an exaggerated shocked expression, even if Ghost couldn't see it. "It's from my grandma! And it's good for literally everything! Sore throat? Drink it. Stuffed nose? Rub a little on your neck. Something hurts? Rub it in! It's magic and you all don't believe me!"

"I will reek like a fucking distillery."

"How do you know?" Soap crossed his arms.

"Because you use it almost everyday and I can smell it. I am surprised that Price didn't think you were drunk after you used it the first time."

"Well- ok, maybe. It isn't even what I wanted to do. I will give you a massage."

Ghost shifted on his bed. "No."

"But why! Ye want to suffer for the rest of the week? We have a mission soon." Johnny whined.

"You won't do it properly and it will fuck me up even more, besides you know how-" Ghost seemed to be considering his wording. "How I deal with-" Ghost couldn't finish the sentence. So Soap finished it for him in his mind- 'touch'.

Ghost wasn't a fan of touch. When they have met, Soap was unaware of that fact, but now he could tell when Ghost will be tolerating his touchiness and when it was better to keep his distance. What was important is that sometimes Soap seemed to be the only one falling under 'somehow comforting' instead of just 'tolerated'.

"I can massage you through you clothes if it would make you feel better, Simon. And ah didn't mean a normal massage. I want to try something my ma used to do when I was small. Will you let me?"

"......Get on with it then."

If Soap could scream he would, of course he mostly did it for Ghost, but he would be lying if he said that he didn't enjoy it. Bringing comfort to people he lov- cared about felt especially rewarding to him.

Soap hopped onto the bed, swung one of his legs over Ghost and sat on his things. "Alright?"

Ghost's ears were burning red, but he nodded. Soap took a deep breath.

"Close yer eyes and at least try to relax. You are a pile of stiff muscles... And do not laugh at what I am about to do or I will break your spine lad."

Soap laid his palms flat on Ghost. "It was a stormy day..." He tapped his fingers all over the Brit's back and shoulders. "The rain got stronger that ever." He put a little bit more strength into taping his fingers, pressing longer when he felt tension under the fabric. "Suddenly a lady in heels appeared, running through the storm." Soap mimicked a walking pattern with his hands. "After her there was a man in heavy boots." He pushed his clenched fists into Ghost's shirt, kneading the tension away. And Soap could feel it, the tension leaving Ghost's shoulders, the muscles relaxing under him. Soap continued with his little story, trying to represent it with his hands on Ghost. Ghost was shuddering every now and then, holding his sheets for dear life.

Suddenly Soap blew cold air on his neck. "Did the goose bumps go away?"

Ghost took a sharp inhale.

"Usually I would be already asleep when my mom did that or tell her 'no' so she would do it one more time." Soap was mindlessly caressing Ghost's shoulders now and noticed that Ghost is still shuddering. "Hey, you alright, Si?"

"Close your eyes." Ghost whispered, voice strangled.

Soap did as requested, he felt some movement under him.

"You can look." Ghost was resting just as before, face pressed into the pillows. The only difference was that, now he was shirtless. "Go again."

Soap felt butterflies exploding in his stomach. He was never met with so much trust from Ghost, he not only let him see him but also let him touch his beautiful skin. Soap felt special.

And if Ghost still had his face burried into pillows, only because his cheeks were wet with tears- no one had to know. Soap not only made Ghost enjoy touch again, he made him crave it.

My mom used to do that when I was stressed or couldn't sleep so I really wanted to include it. The story Soap is telling is what I remember to be told, but it all sadly starts to get blurry.